#Hopper x You

[strangererotica]

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…

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@mrshopper84 🩷

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[eupheme]

Sweet Summer Lemonade

Jim Hopper x F!Reader

Rated E - 7.8k

Tags: dub-con (because of sex pollen) (but with very mutual attraction), use of alcohol and cigarettes, age gap, mentions of death, fingering, oral sex (f rec.), size kink, PiV, mult. orgasms, grump + sunshine, mutual pining, loose pov

Summary:

“So… you and the chief, huh?”

“Oh!” You clear your throat, fingers covering your mouth, “No, not really. I don’t think he sees me that way.”

“Uh huh.” Murray answers dryly, his legs crossing neatly at the ankles as he leans next to you, “Are you sure about that?”

(Or - when you go to Murray’s for some help, you end up with a little more than you bargained for)

Your nose crinkles as the truck finally slows to a halt on the packed-dirt path, just outside the industrial-sized garage door. Debris lines the concrete building, a busted office chair, turned on its side - mechanical parts cushioned against the tall, barbed-wire fence by overgrown tufts of knee-high grass.

“You sure this is the right place?” Your words are directed slowly at Hopper, throwing your shoulder into the door as you open it - the old hinges creaking with the effort.

He’s already out of the truck, the piece of paper crumpled in his hand, shoving it into the back pocket of his light jeans, “This is it.”

Here goes, you think, making for the door, but a hand is catching your elbow, dragging you back. Glancing back at the frown on Hopper’s face, as he leans down to your level, letting you go so his hands can brace on his thick thighs.

“You stick close to me,” His voice is low and hushed, a rough edge to it, “And don’t touch anything inside unless I say so. Got that?”

Annoyance prickles at you - you were in the tunnels last year, same as the rest, and you had come out just fine. Whoever this man was had to be a cakewalk in comparison. He didn’t need to pull the macho-cop act, you weren’t a teenager like the others.

“Nancy said he was nice.” You counter, lifting your sunglasses, perching them on top of your head as you fix him with a look.

The crease between his forehead deepens, the edges of his lips turning down, “Just do what I tell you, okay?”

Your head tilts, his eyebrow raises in response. And fuck - the way he’s seeming to loom over you, big and broad, prickles at you in a different kind of way.

“Fine.” You blink, averting your eyes.

“Good.” He straightens, giving you one last weary look before heading to the front door.

Secretly, you had been hoping this trip would be a little more... interesting. For weeks now, the two of you have been exchanging lingering looks, finding half-hearted excuses to move just a little bit closer.

And when this short trip had come up, you had jumped at the opportunity. Because of the reason it was being taken, of course - and selfishly, for the chance to spend a little more time with him.

But so far today... nothing.

Unless you count the brush of an elbow against yours as it sat on the armrest. Not exactly the steamy encounter you had daydreamed about.

His fist raps a pattern on the rusted metal door, once - twice. Finally, a face peeking out as it cracks open, the room behind dim, curtains pulled tight.

The man’s face pulling downward when he sees who it is, eyes narrowing behind glasses, mouth twisting, "Oh, not you.”

Hopper's foot quickly jamming in the space, preventing it from shutting all the way, “We need to talk to you. It’s about what happened.”

There’s a long pause before the man nods - Hopper’s foot pulling back so the door can shut, the chain latch undone before it opens again.

You follow behind into the house, the inside not a far cry from the outside. But it’s fascinating in a way, the wall of televisions, the man himself - an old robe worn open like a cardigan over a tight white tank, grey sweats.

“Thank you, Mr. Bauman.” You step around Hopper, your hand extended, “We’re hoping you might be able to help us, please.”

Murray’s eyebrows lift when he sees you, the downturned edge of his lip kicking up, “And who is this?”

His handshake is firm, and you smile as you give your name, explaining, “One of Hopper’s friends.”

“Hm. Didn’t think the old grump had any friends,” He gives Hopper a sidelong look, Hopper’s hands jamming in his pockets as he scowls back.

“Just in case you were wondering, that is how you ask for help,” Murray tells him, amusing himself, before he turns back to you, “What can I do for you, sunshine?”

Throwing a look at Hopper for confirmation, you start, “Well, we wanted to see if you still had the original copy of the tape Nancy and Jonathan brought you.”

“Something is happening again,” Hopper cuts in, easing himself into the circle of conversation, arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe with the gate, maybe with El. We wanted to see exactly what they said.”

Murray shoots both of you a puzzled look, “Why’d you come out this way? Can’t you just ask them?”

You fidget, the same thing already discussed in the car. Hopper handles this one again, ”We don’t want to cause any… unnecessary panic. If we ask either, it’s going to spread. We want to do our own digging first.”

Murray thinks about that, plucking the glasses from his face, polishing them slowly on the edge of his robe.

“Please Mr. Bauman?” You ask, your hands clasped in front of you, the sound of your words drowning out Hopper’s annoyed grunt.

“God, please - Mr. Bauman was my father. It’s just Murray.” He looks back up after a long pause, slowly nodding, “But, fine. I can make you a copy. Have to find it first, but I will.”

Your answering smile is relieved - how long could that possibly take?

———

The three of you have been searching for hours now, sifting through beat-up boxes of hastily-labeled tapes in one of the side rooms, taking turns checking possibilities.

It’s slow going - you were quickly relieved of checking duty after you found a tape that leaned towards the illicit. Gasping as Hopper moved in front of you to shut off the high-pitched, recorded moans as he growled out a “Jesus Christ Bauman, she doesn’t need to hear that.”

“It was research for a story!” Murray had insisted, rolling his eyes, hands spread wide.

Now, you were on sorting duty, making stacks for Hopper to check, sweat beading on your brow as you dug through the piles. Even with the drapes drawn, hiding the summer sun, it was warm in the stuffy house - the nearest fan just out of reach as it rotates slowly.

Finally giving up, your arms stretching over your head as you rise, winding your way over to where Murray was working on his own stack.

“Murray, is it okay if I grab something to drink?” Your palm fans your face, the slight gust of air barely soothing the heat.

“Sure, sunshine. Help yourself,” He wipes his own brow, glancing up from his place on the floor. “I’m almost done. Grab a glass for me, too.”

The single bulb flickers in the kitchen, an ancient fridge tucked between two countertops. You revel in the blast of cool air as you open the door, stooping to peer inside.

It’s relatively clean, the shelves clear on one side, jars and condiments lining the other. There’s some beer cans half-way back and you reach for one, dragging it out. When you go to grab another, your fingers knock against a rounded glass bottle, the label curled and worn.

It wobbles dangerously, the cap loose on the narrow neck. The liquid inside - a thick, viscous pink - sloshes onto your knuckles as you catch it with the back of your hand. Trapping it between another container before you carefully nudge it upright.

Your hand withdraws, setting the second can on the counter before you bring it to your nose. The bright residue smells like summer, fresh fruit. Sticky sweet and cloying.

Without thinking, you taste it, licking up the drop that tracked across your knuckles. It seems to soak into your tongue, the taste almost familiar. Reminding you vaguely of the prickly pear lemonade you had on vacation a couple years ago.

Bright and sweet as bubblegum, the tart bite tickling your throat as you swallowed. No worries back then - just summer and sunshine ahead.

You blink, a funny tingling on your tongue, the rest rinsed off in the sink - dried on the dingy dishtowel.

The crisp crack of the can opening is music to your ears. The beer is cheap but you’re not complaining, it’s cool going down your throat - the can pressed against your forehead after you swallow.

Murray joins you a minute later, and you offer him the second can, but he shakes his head.

“Should have specified,” He tells you, dragging a bottle from the freezer, filling the bottom third of a glass.

Drinking the vodka like it’s water, nose scrunching as he swallows. You side-eye him, as you against the counter, elbows pressing against the stained laminate.

Taking your own sip much more slowly, his head turning to look at you.

“Helps me think.” Murray offers, though you weren’t about to ask. There’s a long pause, before his head tilts, “So… you and the chief, huh?”

You choke on the mouthful, coughing as you swallow. Hopper had warned you that he was blunt - a good guy, but not one to mince words.

But it’s almost refreshing, after the passive aggressive tip-toeing around you so often get at work. Right to the point, nice and neat.

“Oh!” You clear your throat, fingers covering your mouth, “No, not really. I don’t think he sees me that way.”

Facing him, you miss the way Hopper’s head tilts in your direction as he listens to a new tape, eyes dragging slow over the cocked curve of your hips - but Murray does not.

“Uh huh.” He answers dryly, his legs crossing neatly at the ankles as he leans next to you, “Are you sure about that?”

You wonder if he’s teasing you, or if he knows something you don’t.

The prospect makes your heart thud, a wishful anticipation in your chest as you answer, “Well, I don’t really know. Sometimes I think there’s something, and then other times he doesn’t notice me at all.”

Not telling him that a part of you thinks he’s hung up on someone else. And the worst part is you get it, it makes sense - they have all that history. And you’re just tripping after him like a lost little puppy.

“Jim’s a pretty direct guy.” Murray interrupts your thoughts, and your answering nod is slow, a little unsure of his meaning.

A pause - before he pats your shoulder, draining the rest of his glass, “Just something to think about.”

Okay, I guess, you think - finishing the remnants of your own drink, finding what looked like a recycling bin for the empty can. After a moment, taking the extra beer you had grabbed over to Hopper. Offering it to him wordlessly as you lean over the back of the couch, next to his shoulder.

He takes it, a thankful curve to his lips, fingers overlapping yours as his hand wraps around the can. For a second, you almost forget to let go - too focused on the way your skin seems to buzz under the brush of his fingertips.

“Thought you forgot about me.” He nods towards the kitchen, cracking it open with a hiss.

You watch the bob of his throat as he swallows, a curl of heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks. Trying to keep your voice from sounding too much like a sigh when you reply, “Never.”

Clearing your throat, trying to keep on track, “Any luck?”

“Not sure. Think we’re getting close though, these are from the same time.” He sighs, leaning back against the cushion, arm trailing along the back - swapping the tape out for another.

The voice that plays from this one is familiar - the recoding caught mid-sentence.

“-you mean without shutting us up?-”

You’re grabbing at his arm, swinging around the edge of the couch to take the seat next to him. Leaning into him to listen, “Wait, wait, that’s it!”

His eyes flash to yours, the recording playing just long enough to confirm it. A relieved smile flashing across his face, before his arm drops to curl around you - a squeezing half-hug of victory.

The tape is handed off to Murray to make a copy, and you stay selfishly seated on the couch. Nothing to do but wait until the copy is made, the edge of his arm still brushing your shoulders.

But the more you sit - the denser the air feels, humid and sticky hot. Your pulse seems to thud in your ears, a steady, dull pattern.

“Is it warm in here?” You ask idly, fingers plucking at the neck of your sundress, peeling it back to get some air against your skin, “Like, more than before?”

He frowns, his eyes averting when you glance his way, his legs shifting, “It’s warm. But it’s cooler than outside, that’s for sure.”

It doesn’t seem that way to you - you’re not sure how he’s able to wear jeans in this heat, even with the beachy, button-up shirt. The sleeves stretch tight across his biceps as his arms cross, your eyes slow to pull away as he adds, “Maybe you just need some fresh air.”

You nod - that makes sense, and you silently wish for Murray to hurry up, as much as you’re enjoying the current seating arrangements.

Now that the tape has been found, copying it goes quickly, the audio conversation as short as it was. Hopper tucking the tape into his shirt pocket, patting his chest as you push yourself to your feet.

It takes an effort, your limbs feeling not quiet coordinated. Your mind a little fuzzy, skin buzzing and tilting towards oversensitive. Maybe the beer wasn’t as cheap as you thought - maybe it was your empty stomach.

Hopper’s eyes narrow when he notices the slight sway in your posture, as Murray not-so-subtly herds you towards the front door. You still manage a thank you, and even a hug that you’re surprised that he accepts, “Thank you for helping us, it means a lot.”

“You’re both welcome back anytime.” Murray tells you cheerfully, the words almost cut off as the door shuts, the latch chain sliding into place immediately.

Leaving the two of you alone, blinking into the sunlight - the slight breeze welcome on your face. You’re still looking dazedly at the door when Hopper’s hand brushes your back, a gentle nudge towards the truck.

His words slow, eyeing you as you start to move, “Let’s get you in the truck”.

You’re compliant, unprotesting as he opens the door, climbing in. Slumping against the seats rolling the window down as he gets in on the other side.

The truck roars to life, reversing out of the lot, dirt kicking up from the driveway as he pulls back onto the main road.

Time seems to lose its meaning as the miles tick down, you’re not sure if it’s been minutes or an hour - the heat in your face and neck starting to feel like it’s moving downwards.

It should be a moment to remember, just the two of you, a beautiful summers day. A warm breeze on your face as the radio rolls through favorites - Springsteen, Rolling Stones, Tom Petty. Songs you know by heart sounding faded as thoughts you kept buried deep inside push to the surface.

Sideways glances that linger a hair too long, eyes drifting over his light, patterned shirt. The extra couple buttons popped at the neck, the coarse hair beneath.

The thick muscle of his arms, large hands that you think would span the space between your shoulder and jaw. The perfect size to cup your face. Fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

You like looking at his hands, thinking about what they could do. How they would feel. On you. Maybe even in you.

The path of your gaze slowly shifts downwards-

You blink - catching yourself, eyes facing forward again. Going rigid as you recognize the curl of arousal in your guts, where the heat has settled. Stronger than you’ve felt before - the aching need for pleasure so sharp it almost hurts.

“You okay, kid?” He breaks the silence, “You’re usually talking my ear off.”

The nickname is unintentional - it’s one he’s picked up from his time looking after El. You know this but it still bristles at you, a dull ache in your stomach causing your words to come out snappish, “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh,” he draws the word out with a scoff, “What, would you prefer ‘sunshine’?”

He’s being petty, defensive - glancing your way with brows pulled low, expression changing when he sees the way you’re sitting, tense and uncomfortable.

You flinch when his hand reaches across, the back of his palm brushing your forehead. Something blooms in your stomach, and you have to fight back a moan at his touch, the feeling between your legs almost like a pulse.

“Jesus, sweetheart.” He’s frowning, eyes darting your way, “You’re burning up. We need to get you home.”

All you can do is nod, your face pressing against the glass again - trying to ignore the instinct to press your thighs together.

———

It’s become almost unbearable by the time you find yourself among familiar roads - the long winding dirt path through the woods to the cabin. Somewhere along the drive, Hopper had offered to take you home, but his was a good 15 minutes closer.

You just needed some water, to sit down for a moment. You were sure it was nothing.

He shifts into park, legs taking him around to your door before you can fumble with the handle. Almost knocking the old wooden door off the hinges as he ushers you inside - the water still lukewarm from the tap as you gulp it down from a glass.

It soothes some of the heat that warms your face, but not the one that roils in your guts. You can’t hold back the groan that wracks your chest, hand splaying across your lower belly.

His hands almost feel cool on your cheeks as he cups them, worry clouding his blue eyes as he angles your face up to look at him.

“How are you feeling? Talk to me, baby.” He coaxes.

“Hurts.” You manage, blinking as you try to concentrate.

“Where?”

Silently, your hand slips lower, until it’s all but cupping your mound. The slightest brush of fingers making your eyes flutter shut, a soft needy groan falling from your lips.

Hopper goes still, unable to breath. Not even knowing what to say for a moment - trying to come up with something, anything, to help figure it out.

“Uh- did you take anything today? Try anything funny this morning?” He stammers, and your eyes flicker open.

A small shake to your head. And then, you pause, remembering.

“At Murray’s. I-It was pink. I didn’t mean to.” You tell him, and he’s nodding - it’s not much, but it’s something.

Leading you to the couch, your body slumping onto it as he heads for the phone. Digging through his pockets for the scrap of paper, silently hoping that Murray will actually pick up.

Your hands wander on their own, brushing across your thighs, up, and then up. A pad of your finger pressing against the thin cloth covering your clit, and fuck - it feels good. Maybe the best you’ve ever felt.

But somewhere in the fog, you know the couch is not the place to do this. With an effort you push yourself up, his eyes flicking worriedly to your wobbling gait as the phone rings.

The bathroom door creaking shut behind you - the wood muffling your moans as your fingers press against yourself again. Easing the ache, just for a moment.

His fingers wrap around the phone cord until it hurts - eyes trained on the closed door, foot tapping as he waits for answer.

“Hello?” Finally there’s a voice on the other end, and Hopper feels like he could strangle him.

“Murray? Jim.” He barks out, not waiting for a reply. “Something is wrong, she’s not doing well. Said she had something pink at your house.”

There’s a beat, before he’s cursing - his questions not quite making sense, “Jesus Christ. She didn’t, right? When did-?”

“What was it?” Hopper interrupts, his voice firm and low, one that he always seems to pull out during his interrogations.

“Let me think. I need to make sure.” There’s a crackle on the other end, the words chosen carefully. “How is she? What are her symptoms?”

Hopper blinks, “Uh, hot. Forehead is really warm. She seems distracted.”

“She um, said it hurts.” Not knowing how to word the next part, heat creeping across his own face, “Down there.”

He makes a face as he waits, scrubbing a palm across his forehead, and there’s an agonized groan on the other end.

“Okay. Can you ask her how much she had?”

His patience is running thin, worry and anger making his chest feel tight, “What the hell was it?”

Another beat of silence.

“It’s an… aphrodisiac. I was doing a story on it.”

He had the phone pressed so close to his ear that it creaks in his grip, “A what?”

“You know…” Murray hedges, and then sighs. “The tape you heard? The one that pissed you off so much? That was part of my research.”

Hoppers mouth feels dry, remembering the lewd, rhythmic moans. The word clicking into place in his mind, things starting to make a little more sense.

“Does it go away?”

“That’s why you need to ask her.” His tone turns serious, “You need to, right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, he sets the phone on the side table, crossing the room to the bathroom. Knocking, then calling out for you.

Listening, not meaning to hear your panting breaths, the stifled moans sliding out from between your teeth. He doesn’t mean to picture what you’re doing either - but the images pop into his mind, his fist tightening around the door handle.

Inappropriate. Get it together.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out, and he hears your sounds stutter. He hopes your listening, “The pink stuff. How much did you have?”

A moment as you think, the words slow from your lips, “Just a bit. It spilled on my hand.”

He’s back on the phone a second later, “She said just a little bit.”

“Thank god.” There’s a sigh on the other end, but Hopper doesn’t know what there is to sigh about, “I didn’t want to tell you, but the reason I was doing the story was a couple guys took too much. It uh, turns out it can cause cardiac arrest.”

The implication hangs in the air - he wants to ask more, but fears the answer. Murray presses on, “But if she just took a little, she should be okay. She needs to…”

There’s a pause as he sucks in a breath, “She needs to work through it to make it go away.”

“Work through it?” He echoes, brows furrowing.

“Yes. If she doesn’t, it hurts like hell. I tried it myself, just once.” Murray confesses, his voice low, “Drank some like a shot. It took twelve hours to go away. I was chafed red, Jim. Red.”

Hopper makes a face at the overshare, lips pulling down over clenched teeth, “That’s disgusting.”

“That’s what happens.” Murray answers firmly, “I’m just telling you, you might have to help her. Or find her help - don’t let her go through that pain.”

He doesn’t know what to think about that either. Doesn’t even want to think about it, helping you. Not like this, not when you’re not in your right mind.

The next call is quick, just to cover his bases - a call to the school. A message for El, asking is she can spend time with Max tonight. Hopefully you didn’t need the twelve hours, but he had no idea what to expect, or if he could move you.

Then the back of his knuckles are rapping on the door again, three short, sharp knocks. He calls your name, listening - his mind going a mile a minute. Opening the door when he hears you say his name, the two syllables drawn out in a soft whine.

Even with what he knows now, he’s unprepared. The bathroom in his cabin had always been small - barely enough room to squeeze in a tub, a toilet, the chipped sink with a mirror.

Small enough that he’s hit with the scent of your shampoo, perfume. Then, the sweet musk of your arousal, completely unmistakable. Combining into something that made his pants feel tight, his breath catching in his throat.

Pheromones, maybe - something he saw once on a nature documentary. Murray didn’t warn him about that part. His back sags against the door as he closes it.

Fuck, he can’t do this.

He’s already thinking things he shouldn’t be - because he knows you don’t see him the way he sees you. That your sugar-sweet smiles and nudges are the same you give everyone else.

Trying on occasion to put some distance. An act of self-preservation - he’s always been shit at love. Always on the wrong side. But then you drag him back in. Bright and stunning and blinding.

Sunshine in human form, after all.

You’re sitting, back against the wall - tucked in the far corner, opposite the tub. Elbows resting on spread knees, your dress dipping down between the soft curves of your thighs. The navy blue flash of panties as you shift, the light glinting off the wet gleam of your fingers has his eyes darting away - flushing as he clears his throat.

Your eyes glassy as you look up at him, the way he fills the doorway - even bigger and broader than usual from your spot on the floor. Another sharp throb shoots through you, and you moan out loud.

His brow furrows, and then he’s moving, crouching down to your level. Fingers reaching out to brush your forehead again, your skin burning hot against his fingers.

“Talked to Murray. You drank some experiment he’s been working on. Says you need to, uh-” His hand rubs the back of his neck - lacking the eloquence of his new friend, completely out of his depth. “Finish. To get rid of the uh, symptoms.”

This close, the throbbing increases, twisting in your guts into you ache. The smell of leather, tobacco, aftershave sending another pulse down your spine, your thighs pressing together in an attempt for release.

Your nod is sluggish, the fingers twitching again, “I tried, Hop. I can’t-”

“Is there… someone I can call for you?” His voice is gruff, trying as hard as he can to think with his brain and not with his cock, “A…boyfriend, an ex?”

There’s a thud as your head tilts back against the wall, as you fix him with a long look.

“Is my flirting really that terrible?” You ask, with a huff of a laugh that borders on delirious.

There’s a long pause as Hoppers mind trips to catch up, to interpret your words.

“Nevermind.” The smile that stretches your lips is resigned, your chest heaving in a panting breath as your hand waves dismissively, “That wasn’t fair of me to say. Just forget it, I’ll be okay, Hop. Really.”

“Wait, back up.” Hopper’s hands raise, his voice taking on an edge, “What the hell does that mean?”

Each word feels like an effort now, your tongue feeling heavy, your heart thudding between your thighs, “It means-, it means the person I’d want to call is… you.”

There’s silence for a long, agonizing moment.

“You don’t want me,” He rasps out, eyes flickering between your half-lidded ones, the glossy sheen of your parted lips where your tongue had flicked over them. “It’s the drug. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Jim.” The name punches out from your chest, your eyes locking onto his, the pretty splash of blue, “It’s not. I’ve always wanted you.”

Realization making him sway - the wooden floor crashes into his knees as he rocks forward. His head ducking down as you push yourself up to meet him.

A whimpering moan that shoots straight to his cock when your mouth meets his, one of his thick arms curling around, a palm pressing flat against your back. Your tongue already swiping at his lower lip, pressing closer until your breasts are crushed against the wide barrel of his chest.

His hands dropping, as he groans in response - cupping the globes of your ass, your thighs opening further for him as he yanks you up and onto his lap.

Fingers fly to the meat of his broad shoulders for balance, the fabric of your dress bunching under roaming hands. A clashing of teeth and tongues as you devour each other, your panting gasps as your core bumps into contact with the thick curve of his jeans.

Electricity flickering down your spine, a seam catching on your clit. The burning in your core turning into something closer to relief. Your hips jerk again to chase the sensation, just as a hand comes up to palm at your breast, the tight peak of your nipple.

“Hopper,” You’re moaning into his mouth, your fingers fisted in his shirt, trying to tug him even closer. Hips rolling, grinding down against the thick curve of his jeans, “Please.”

His last ounce of self-control leeching from him as he accepts what you’re asking. What you’re needing from him.

Begging, even - something he’s only ever dreamed about.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He promises, shifting - your thighs wrapping around his waist, a low whine from your throat as he tries to move.

Hopper gives up on untangling your limbs, instead pushes himself unsteadily to his feet; your arms encircling his shoulders. Lips dropping to his neck, pressing against skin.

Walking you through the door, until he can drop you onto his bed. You scoot backwards to make room for him as he lowers himself down next to you, crowding you closer to the cabin wall.

Fingers trailing up your shin, your thighs falling open, just as your eyes shut with another cramp of discomfort. Halting at your thigh, at the curving hem of your dress.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks, leaning over you, letting you call the shots the best he can.

“Touch me.” You beg, hand reaches for his, dragging it up between your thighs. Hips rocking into his fingers when they press down against your core.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, feeling the damp cotton, your own hand going limp at your side as his flatten, rubbing at the fabric.

His other hand pushing your skirt up to your hips. Letting himself look now, the dark, wet stain of your panties under his fingers. Realizing they were never navy in color - the soft fabric cutting across your hips a light, sky blue. So similar to the shade of his eyes.

Your hips buck again, and his fingers slide beneath the fabric, slipping against soaked skin and soft curls. Another fresh wave of relief, pleasure curling over the pain, your fingers twisting around the pillow behind your head.

“Jesus. You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He grits out, fingers sliding up until they bump against the swollen bud of your clit, your response no more than a whimper.

Stroking against you, again and again - his fingers slick with your arousal. Sliding easily over your skin, making small, messy circles that have your breath catching in your throat.

A litany of pleas and moans falling from your lips, soft “oh, god-” mixing with his name. The sweet build of pleasure barreling down as his fingers touch you.

He’s impatient, the tight fabric limiting his movements, blocking the pretty sight of your pussy from his vision. The thumb of his other hand hooks on your waistband, tugging it down your thighs - your hips grinding into his hand as they rise to help.

A rough exhale of breath, the word “fuck” ground out through gritted teeth. Torn between wanting to keep going just like this - and knowing if you wanted more, that he’d have to use his fingers somewhere else.

His hand shifts, thumb rubbing over your clit, the middle sliding down, pressing against your entrance. Glancing at you for your nod before it sinks in, his fingers so much thicker and longer than your own.

Pressing down to the knuckle before withdrawing, starting a slow thrust that stretches you out. He’s so fucking hard, cock straining in his pants as he watches his finger disappear into you, your pussy so warm and tight around him. Thinking about how you’d feel wrapped around his fat cock, how good you’d feel coming on it.

Biting back a groan as he adds another, your own low whine as they press deep, finally itching at the ache of needing to be filled. Your words are slurred with drunk pleasure, your brain a messy fog.

“Make me come, Hop. Please-“

Fingers curling, each thrust of his wrist a loud, wet squelch in the small cabin. He shines with you, coating his fingers, leaking onto your inner thighs.

“I will baby, I promise.” He coaxes, trying to remember how it goes, fingers dragging against your inner walls until he feels you clench down around him, a ragged gasp in your throat.

His eyes flickering up again to yours, doing it again, again - watching the way your breaths grow shorter, tension coiling in your thighs.

The small rocking of your hips as you chase the movements of his thrusts, fucking yourself on his fingers, the soft pants of breath as you moan out “please” again and again.

Hopper shifts, pushing himself up - though you’re too close, too far gone to notice. Your eyes shut are shut, concentrating, when there’s the swirl of something hot and wet and soft against your skin.

Better than his thumb, eyes cracking open to see the way he bends over you, the pink flick of tongue as it presses against you, a low groan as he tastes you.

The scratch of his mustache, sending goosebumps across your skin. When his lips kiss against your clit and then suck, it becomes your undoing.

Unable to form words as the blinding pleasure peaks, instant relief flooding your system as you find your release. Soaking his fingers and tongue with a hoarse cry, limbs trembling with the effort.

The sounds you make when you come are prettier than he’s ever imagined - loud, panting moans, the heave of your breasts, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut in concentration.

Tight as hell around his fingers, he swears he can feel each pulse, the thud of your heartbeat in your clit as his tongue presses against it.

Devouring you until you finally go limp, before sliding his fingers from you. Bringing them to his mouth, unable to resist tasting the release that coats his fingers.

The sweet tang of your cunt as he sucks them clean, a low groan as his hips shift, pressing against the mattress.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, the fog starting to wane with each throb, though the desire still remained. The immediate pain quelled, but the deep ache of want and need was still burning in your veins.

Pushing yourself up, grasping at his shoulders until he’s hovering over you - your mouth tilting to meet his. His mouth tasting like you when your tongue darts against his, the rumbling groan as your hips shift up to rub against him.

“Thank you,” you moan into his mouth, and he almost wants to laugh, if the situation hadn’t been so disconcerting.

The thought about being thanked for something he’d dreamed about doing, never thinking he’d get the chance to bury his face between your legs.

He kisses you until you feel dizzy, until your hips are moving again, the damp spot darkening on the front of his jeans.

“More,” you break the kiss to beg, plucking at the buttons of his shirt, revealing inches of skin, greedily soaking him in.

“You need more or you want more?” He asks, hand curving to cup your jaw - a perfect fit, just like you imagined.

Lips feeling kiss-swollen as they scrape against the stubble of his jaw, down to his neck. Feeling the thud of his own pulse, “Both.”

He groans, loud and low, letting you tug at his belt, fingers working open the button. Hips shifting into your hand as you cup the hard bulge, your other hand tugging at the zipper.

A noise of disappointment as he rolls off you, the smallest hint of a smirk as he rids himself of his pants, boxers, “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

And he is, your fingers skating over his thick shaft, barely able to circle around it. It’s big, the fat head glistening with a bead of precum, and it smears across your thighs as he settles between them.

You wiggle against him, lining your hips up, but his hands are gripping onto your waist to hold you still.

“Easy, baby. Gonna hurt yourself.”

Taking a moment, his fist wrapping around the base. Sliding himself against you, you body flexing against the hand still holding you as he lines himself up.

Making sure he’s soaked with you before he starts to press in. Eyes bouncing between your face, trying to see if it’s too much, and unable to resist seeing the tip disappear into you, stretching you wide.

Your moan breaks his concentration, the feeling of him splitting you open almost too much. He feels even bigger than you imagined - making room for himself as he nudges into you. Stealing your breath with every small flex of his hips.

So much of him still left as he carefully thrusts his hips forward, the delicious slide of his cock against your walls before he withdraws. Breath heavy as he does it again, each time sinking a little deeper into you.

Almost flush now, his hands on your hips again. Keeping you pressed to the bed so you don’t try to take too much. Perhaps also to keep himself in check as well.

It’s overwhelming, how warm and tight you are around him. Squeezing him already, even with your come coating his cock, slicking him up. He’s afraid to move, thinking that if he starts thrusting, starts fucking you - that this will be over before it’s started.

His lips part as you wiggle against him again, trying to ignore your pretty pleas. The rough gravel of his voice drowning your sighs out, “Hold on, baby. I just need a minute.”

Fingers flexing against your skin, where the flesh pillows between them. But you need more, and you take matters into your own hands.

Your hand slides down, one lingering at your breast, cupping and squeezing the soft skin, pinching at a nipple. Sending a jolt racing down your spine as your other hand follows, drifting until you’re brushing between your thighs again.

Some of your wits now back, maybe enough that you can get yourself off - just like this.

Eyes on his, watching him watch how the tip of one circles your clit. The small rock of your hips that just barely causes him to move, buried in you. But it’s enough.

Your head tilting back as you set a pace, rolling your hips, again - again. Touching yourself, his name peppered in with the panting of your breath.

“Hopper, oh my god-“

And finally he finds his voice, fingers so tight you think they’ll leave bruises. The words skittering across your skin, as his head tilts up to yours, words coaxing, “That’s right sweetheart. Take what you need.”

Eyes fluttering open as the pleasure builds again as pressing your fingers harder, circling faster.

He’d been worrying about you dying earlier - just for a moment. Now he’s worrying about himself, heart pounding in his chest, listening to each little mewling gasp from your lips as you use him.

Fucking yourself with shallow thrusts on his cock, your pretty face screwed up in concentration. Each breath growing shorter and shorter - he can feel you starting to tense underneath him, the clench of your pussy around him as you squeeze in anticipation.

Keeping himself still, letting you get off on him - thinking that he’ll throw you off your rhythm if he moves, desperately wanting to see how it feels when you come on his cock.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Your eyes all but roll shut as your release hits you. The heavy shudder of your body, surprising him with the sharp jerk of your hips. Taking him even deeper - almost all the way as you flutter around him.

Even better than how you felt on his tongue, better than he’s imagined. The sounds you make louder and rougher when you’re stuffed full of him - as he lowers himself down, hands easing off you.

Letting you wrap your arms around his shoulders, face buried in his neck as you drift back down. Holding you until your hips stop moving - waiting until you relax before he slips from you.

You frown, not understanding until he rising up, nudging at your hips. Giving you room to flip over, his palm warm as it slides down your back.

“Hands and knees, baby.”

Wobbling only a little as you push yourself to your knees, back curving as your torso slips back down, pressing against the mattress.

Shifting until your ass rests flush against his front, letting you feel the thick curve of him pressing against your swollen lips.

“You want more sweetheart?” He asks, a thrust of his hips nudging his cock against you. “Or are you all worn out?”

Again putting the choice in your hands, though he wants nothing more to bury himself in your tight cunt again and fuck you proper.

“More.” You sigh, pressing back against him. Feeling and sounding more lucid - the desire more firmly situated in your thoughts, feelings, rather than chemical stimulation, “Want you to fuck me, Hopper.”

“Yeah?” He growls out, thumbs digging into the curve where your ass meets your thighs, spreading you wide.

“Yeah.” You confirm, the word turning into a moan when you feel the tip press against you again, and then he’s slowly sliding back in.

It’s still a stretch, even though you’ve already taken him, the angle so much different. He can see so much more like this, the tension strung tight in your back and shoulders, your fingers fisting in the sheet.

“Relax, sweetheart.” His hand smooths across your hip, thumb rubbing across your skin, easing forward until his thick thighs are pressing against yours, the curve of his stomach flush with your ass.

His first thrust is experimental - shallow, fingers gripping onto your waist. Rocking you with his movements as you groan, so sensitive that you think you can feel every vein, each ridge.

Again, and then again - until your cheek presses against the mattress so you can look at him, your eyes heavy lidded.

The peek of pink tongue between teeth as he concentrates, a hitch in his chest when you clench down around him. Shoulders flexing as your lips part, the words moaned out - a plea, “Harder. I won’t break.”

Fingers digging into your skin, as you add a soft, “Please.”

It tips him over, hands jerking your hips back - all but impaling you on his cock. Sinking himself deep, filling you completely.

Your gasp is low and loud, head tilting back. Urging him to do it again, and so he does. Gripping your hips as he starts thrusting, your panting moans mingling with the wet squelch of your pussy as he pounds into you.

Shifting, his thighs bumping into yours, lifting your hips, pressing you further into the mattress.

Changing the angle, his cock dragging along your walls. His forward thrust nudging against a spot that makes you cry out, muscles clenching, pleasure flooding your senses.

“Yeah?” He asks through clenched teeth, voice like gravel.

Finding it again, and then again. Your fingers gripping the sheets, lips parted as the moans are pushes out of you. Hurtling towards the edge, your hips rocking back to meet him the best you can.

And when his hand moves, fingers pressing against your slick, sensitive clit, it only takes a few flicks of his wrist until you’re trembling, your words a jumble of begging pleas.

“Oh god yes, Jim, please, please-”

Soaking his cock as you start to flutter, tight and hot and almost overwhelming him. His name sounding so goddamn good on your lips as you chant it, the little jerks your hips make as his fingers keep moving.

Your eyes shut as you ride out the waves, your body relaxing into his grip. Realizing he’s still thrusting, drawing your pleasure out, still pressing against your clit.

“Come on honey, one more.” You just catch the rough rasp of his voice, raising goosebumps across your skin, “Let’s get it out of your system. I want to be the only one helping you.”

Quickly working you up again, until his own thrust starting to stutter. Your tight heat too much, he’s not going to last much longer. Trying to hold himself back a little longer, but it’s he thinks he already too far gone.

“Fuck baby, I’m close,” Hopper pants, and thinking about him coming makes you moan. “Where do you want me?”

“In me.” You beg, already close again - from his touch, his words.

“Fuck.” He repeats, “Goddamn-”

His groan low, hips snapping forward, the slap of his balls against your pussy before he grinds himself deep. The sharp thrusts sending you over with him, your own orgasm washing over you as you feel the hot pulse of his ropes painting your walls.

Basking in the sweet feeling release as he ruts against you - until you’re filled - until his hips finally start to slow.

Chest heaving as he catches his breath, fingers carding through his hair, brushing it back. Your thighs burning in a nice, used way - your head pressing against the mattress so you can peek up at him.

Taking a long minute, and then another. Until your breathing finally slows, until the tension melts from both of you. A hand rubs your lower back, above where you are still joined.

“More?” He asks, his gaze heavy as he meets yours.

You clench down around him, squeezing him as his release gets pushed out, dripping down your thighs. He twitches inside you.

“More.”

———

Evening has fully settling in when the two of you finally collapse - his head hitting the pillow with a heavy, satisfied sigh. Your body going limp against his, pressing yourself flush against him.

Your cheek scrubs against the hair sprinkled across his chest, your movements slow and sated. The fire - finally, completely - quenched, the only warmth now coming from your sweaty, sticky skin.

The humor returning, now that the danger has passed. A rumble of laugher beneath your ear, the click of a lighter, his voice a low rasp before he takes a drag of his cigarette.

“If you wanted me that badly, sweetheart, you could have just asked. No need to go through all that trouble.”

Unbelievable.

Your head tilts upwards as you fix him with a glare, “You’re lucky I’m too tired to move.”

His hand lifts to cup your chin, thumb scrubbing tenderly across your cheek. Another breath that takes you with it, rising and falling as you sag against him.

“‘Lucky’ is goddamn right.” He tells you, his teeth flashing with his smile.

And with that, you find yourself smiling, too.

#please mind the tags! #been working on this for a bit - hope you like it! 💕 #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper imagine #hopper x reader #hopper x you #jim hopper smut #jim hopper

[ervotica]

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), jim being the most daddy ever, i just have mega brainrot 4 him

Thinking about dbf!Jim Hopper who sits in his cabin of an evening and waits for you to come over. Jim who drags you into his lap the minute you walk your cute little ass through the door and slings your legs over his meaty thighs, who lets you scrape your fingers through the thick scruff of his beard and drag your teeth along his neck and ears.

Jim who lights your cigarettes for you, thumbing at your bottom lip and placing it gently in the gap he's created; he flicks the lighter and it comes to life as you chase it with the end of your cig. He always laughs in that deep, gravelly way that's reserved only for you.

"Patience, sweetheart."

Jim who lets you blow smoke into his mouth as you ply him with open mouthed kisses, lips smacking wetly against his own when you bite his soft flesh and giggle.

Jim who drives you around in the Chevy and lets you fiddle with the controls to keep you amused, legs draped up on the dash and a cigarette hung lazily from your lips. He humours you when you wiggle your fingers and stretch your arm towards him to play with his fingers as he drives, reaching over to place your cigarette between his lips every so often for a drag.

Jim who adores how you look on your knees with your mouth full of him; his sweet girl, his secret shame, his clandestine lover. How you lose yourself in it, in the pleasure of making him feel good.

The way it turns him on makes him sick, how he groans and his hips stutter when you call him daddy in that sweet lilting voice, how you breathe heavy and high-pitched as you work him from base to tip and suckle on the head of his cock just the way he likes. The way you force yourself all the way down and gag as your nose buries in the thatch of curls by his pubic bone has him incoherent, fisting handfuls of your hair and holding you down until you're gasping and choking around him.

And when all is said and done- when you've told your father you're sleeping around a friend's house but you find yourself in the sheriff's bed instead- he's gentle. Soft and attentive and sure, a little rough around the edges, but you wouldn't have him any other way. You curl up and tuck yourself close and the entire world melts away until all that's left is you and him.

And the lying and the secrets and the sneaking around wears you down occasionally, but you'd do it all a thousand times over for him.

#this is a ramble so it's written how i think #but enjoy!! #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #hopper x you #hopper x reader #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper smut #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writing for fun #writing for myself #smut writing #smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #stranger things blog #dbf!jim hopper #dbf!hopper #mini musings 💭

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 | 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫

requested by @eddiesquinn

A/N: this is kinda filthy I can’t lie lmao I hope you like it! thank you for the request!!

“Tough day at work?” You hum with a smirk as Jim collides his body with yours almost as soon as he’s through the door.

“You have no idea,” he grumbles against your mouth.

His lips are hungry and dominating on top of yours. His hands quickly find their way to your hips, giving them a squeeze and signalling for you to jump. You oblige, jumping up and hooking your legs around his waist. He walks you over to the closest piece of furniture, which just so happened to be small table you guys ate dinner at.

He drops you unceremoniously onto the table top, slotting his hips between your open legs. He grunts as he makes quick work of his belt and fastenings, quickly pulling free his hard cock. He doesn’t even bother with taking your panties off. He simply hikes up your dress, pulls your underwear to the side, before he’s roughly pushing into you. You bite you lip at the slight pain of the stretch. Jim was was clearly in need of fucking out his bad day and you were always more than happy to oblige.

He doesn’t take his time, he goes right to setting a brutal and ruthless pace as he fucks into you. You moan out loudly as he grunts deeply in your ear. You have to put an arm behind you to support yourself as he fucks you with enough force to have the table banging against the wall it was leaning against.

The most sinful of moans escapes your lips when Jim suddenly dips his head down, pulling your panties even more to the side with his fingers, and spits right onto your aching clit. Your head flies back with pleasure as he starts to work his spit over your bundle of nerves, rubbing with his thumb, setting a brutal pace to match that of his cock thrusting inside you.

“You gonna cum for me babygirl?” He asks gruffly, his voice even deeper than usually.

You nod incoherently as you cling onto him frantically, fingers scrambling to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Yeah? Cum for me sweetheart, I need to feel it. Need to feel you squeeze me so good,” he grunts as he thrusts into you harshly a few more times.

His words tip you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him tight as your body convulses through your high.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he grinds through gritted teeth as you feel him spill inside you.

He spurts rope after rope of his seed inside you, continuing to fuck you harshly through both your climaxes. He keeps his cock moving inside you until you can start to feel the warm, sticky mess of his cum dribbling down the back of your ass as he essentially fucks his own cum out of you.

Without warning he’s suddenly pulling out of you, his eyes instantly locking on your exposed and ruined pussy. You feel your pussy clench again with a final remnant of pleasure and you can feel even more of his release pool out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums darkly with a smirk, “now that’s a sight to cure any bad day.”

Your face flushes with the heat of embarrassment as you look down to where his gaze lay.

“Oh my god Jim!” You chastise. “It’s on the table, we eat here!” You smack his shoulder lightly.

His smirk only grows, “well I didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago.”

Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

#stranger nightmare #kinktober 2022 #jim hopper #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper imagine #hopper smut #hopper imagine #hopper x reader #hopper x you #stranger things smut

[littlemissvincentvega]

Hii could u write a part 2 to the morning wood hopper fic? Maybe hopper accidentally bumps into the reader at a bar and he takes her home and Yk… 😏

MORNING WOOD pt. 2 / a perv!hopper one shot

PART 1

a/n: OMG i finally wrote something and it is the part 2!!! i'm going to do part 3 soon (might start writing it tonight) it will most likely be the finale of this little miniseries thing with hopper. but i had so much fun writing this and i hope y'all enjoy ♥ also also i'm in the process of setting up the tumblr tips thing bc i am Poor and somebody asked me about it aaaages ago :) thanks @nonsensecynical for the request and the inspiration for doing the part 2!!

18+ explicit content / perv! jim hopper x fem!reader

cw: alcohol, smoking, sexual themes, general perviness

Wisps of smoke left his nose like an angry bull. He tapped the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray in front of him, watching as the ash fell into it. It had started out clean and empty, but since Jim arrived a small pile of cigarette butts had accumulated there. He nursed his (sixth? seventh?) drink, focused on the melting ice cubes that swirled around the glass.

"Need a drinking partner?"

Hopper looked up from the bar, his eyes widening a little when he saw it was you. Of course it was. He'd jacked off to the thought of you that very morning, so why the hell wouldn't he have to deal with speaking to you as if he hadn't just mentally fucked you into next week? "What?"

You snickered slightly and shifted to sit beside him at the bar. Unbeknownst to Jim, you were already a couple of drinks in, which was why you were so calm about approaching him. You'd considered this a few times before after seeing him drink his problems away, but today was the day you grew a pair, for some reason. "Are you having another drink?"

"Probably," came his mumbled response. He looked at you, "Why?"

You pretended not to notice his gaze drop briefly to your breasts and gave him a coy smile. "I'll get your next one. You look like you need a drinking partner. You're always in here by yourself."

"(y/n), I couldn't ask you to do that," Jim said, sitting up to look at you properly. Why was a young, beautiful thing like you bothering to speak to him? He arched his brows. "By myself--? That's by choice, not because I don't have friends, you know."

"You didn't ask me, I offered. I'm buying the Chief of Police a drink. Least I can do for you doing your duty," you grinned, ignoring his further comments. He closed his eyes in annoyance, sighed through his nose and begrudgingly agreed.

-

"Let me give you a ride home," Hopper told you an hour or so later, sliding the empty glasses toward the barkeep. "Least I can do after you bought me a single drink."

You grinned upon seeing a smile twitch on his usually stoic face, then slid on your coat. "I didn't tell you to pay for my other drinks. I just... let you do it. It's fine, I'll drive myself home."

"No, no-- not happening." He was already ushering you out, a large hand hovering near your lower back. The bitterly cold air of the evening woke you up slightly, and you grimaced at the change in temperature. "I'll hafta arrest you for drink-driving. Wouldn't want that."

Being slightly merry, you bit your lip into a smile of mischief and eyed him. "Would that involve you putting me in handcuffs?"

That kinky little shit. I knew it. Hopper stared at you for a few moments, then continued to whisk you to his truck. "Yes."

Jim helped you into the passenger side of the truck, closed the door for you and then made his way to the driver's seat. He cleared his throat and glanced your way. You had slid your coat down your shoulders just a little to allow the cold air around your breasts. And yes, he could see your nipples trying to poke through the fabric of your shirt. Dark gaze lingered on them for a moment before he cleared his throat again and switched on the engine. "Thanks, uh, for keepin' me company tonight," he mumbled.

"Oh-- don't mention it. It's nice to not drink by myself for once."

"You there a lot?" he queried, taking a look behind before reversing out of the parking spot.

"Mm, sometimes," you hummed, popping the cap off of your lipstick and topping it up in the mirror. Hopper wished you wouldn't do that. It was making his mind go to places, places it had been that same morning. Making him think about how beautiful you'd look with those beautiful plump lips wrapped around his cock, pumping and sucking...

And then you broke his trance with a question. "Should you even be driving?"

"What?"

You returned the lid to your lipstick and put it in your handbag. "You're technically drink-driving, Chief."

God. Stop calling me that. He glanced your way, a gentle smirk tugging at his lips. "What'd you just call me?"

Brows arched, you stared at him and tried to ignore the pulsing between your thighs. After a short pause, you answered him, albeit a little quieter. "Chief."

"Exactly. I'm the Chief of Police, I can do what I want." And what I want is to fuck your brains out.

You simply rolled your eyes and chuckled a little, opting to look out of the window. Jim took that opportunity to steal a few glances at your body, the way your skirt perfectly hugged your hips, how the low-cut top showed off your delicious breasts. How he'd like to grab them, knead them, suckle on your perfect little nipples. He swallowed thickly, making an attempt to ignore his twitching cock. No, not twitching-- it was throbbing.

When you turned to look for any packs of cigarettes Jim had laying around his car, it wasn't difficult to see what he was trying to hide. It only made your core ache more for him, and from what you could see, he was big. You diverted your gaze from it quickly, locating the cigarettes, and sparked up. The first exhale definitely helped to calm you down, but it was barely a distraction from how sopping wet you felt.

The rest of the ride was quiet, almost awkward considering how you were both feeling (unbeknownst to each other), but Hopper broke the silence when he pulled into the trailer park. "Which number are you again?" he mumbled. He knew the number.

"Right there." You pointed at your trailer, which was painted light blue (a DIY job Eddie Munson had helped you with, much to Steve's dismay).

Hopper pulled up at the side of your home, hands resting in his lap to conceal what was going on down there. A small smile was given to you. "Home sweet home."

You noticed that he didn't turn off the engine, which was a slightly disheartening, but your horny little brain had other plans. One hand rested on the door handle and you looked across to him, eyebrows raised. "Aren't you gonna walk me to my door?"

Oh, God, why? He looked mildly annoyed, staring at you silently for a moment. "The free ride home not enough?"

"Nope." You flashed him a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Jim switched off the engine and exited the car. In his mind, he was hoping his erection had subsided a little, but he knew full well it wasn't going away until he took care of it. All he had to do was pray you didn't notice. "Alright," he helped you down from the truck, savouring every moment his hands touched your body, "five more steps and you're home safe."

"Huh, chivalry isn't dead, after all," you joked, walking with him to your porch. You fumbled to grab your keys and began to unlock the door.

"Sure," he cracked a small smile again. You were sweet-- he found you to have a decent sense of humour, too. "Uh, thanks again for keepin' me company."

You removed the key and opened the door, looking up at him. "You're welcome. Do you want to come inside for a bit?"

For a moment, Jim's eyes widened and he fell silent. He looked inside, then back to you. "No, I should get goin'. Got stuff to do."

"What stuff?" You held his gaze, subtly ran your tongue along your upper lip.

"Y'know-- laundry. Got some, uh, dirty dishes--"

But he was cut off. Your hand, much smaller than his, had found the outline of his erection, and you were gently rubbing it through his work-slacks. "What else?" you breathed, watching the poor man try to catch his breath.

He swallowed thickly, all too aware of how heavy he was breathing. Gaze dropped to watch your hand, then slowly rose to capture all of the beauty your body held. His eyes finally met yours again. "Gotta take a shower... maybe it can wait..." Without warning, he pushed you inside and slammed the door behind you both, shoving you against the nearest wall. It made the framed photos there shake, but Hopper didn't care. You squealed with surprise-- his cock rubbed against you as his lips met yours, all hunger and pent-up frustration and passion. He groaned against your lips, only pulling away after a few seconds to catch his breath and look at you. Yes, it was clear. You both wanted the same thing.

-

PART 3 COMING SOON!

#hopper #chief hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #chief jim hopper #jim hopper #jim hopper fanfic #hopper fanfic #hopper smut #chief hopper smut #hopper x you

[huntingingoodwill]

noise complaint

masterlist

pairing: hopper x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

You heard him click his tongue above you in annoyance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gonna give herself a damn concussion. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, hey, don’t cr-” 

You gave one last convincing sniffle. 

He sighed, caving in. “Okay, okay-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A blush crept up his cheeks. 

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

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

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

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

“You’re drunk. Drink.” He spoke. 

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

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

“Cute.” You finished. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hop?”

“Yeah?” 

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

“Of course, kid.”

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

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Y/n: *bites lip* Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?

Hopper: That isn’t gonna work, hands behind your back.

#incorrect quotes #incorrect stranger things quotes #incorrect st quotes #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things #hopper stranger things #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x y/n #hopper x reader #hopper x you #jim hopper stranger things #st s1 #st s2 #st s3 #st s4 #st s5

[lizmaximoff]

JIM HOPPER FIC RECS

An official list of Jim Hopper x Reader and Jim Hopper x OC recommendations (an update from this list).

Fics are arranged by one-shot or multi-chapter, then by rating, and then alphabetically. 

This arsenal contains 97 FICS as of 5/14/23.

To see a masterlist of my own Jim Hopper fics, click here.

LIZZIE’S TOP FIVE

Baking for Bang | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - The reader has been pining after the big, handsome Chief of Police since the day he walked into her bakery.  Using the wiles available to her – namely her baking skills – she sets out to slowly seduce him, culminating on a wintery day in Hopper’s cabin with a box of baked goods and an interesting confession. 

Pain in my Heart | M ( @flamehairedwritings ) - It’s your senior year and your best friend is still a dick. It’s your senior year and your best friend is still an ass. It’s your senior year and your best friend, Jim Hopper, is still trying to get you to help him with his homework.

Popsicles and Water Hoses | E ( @thebackseatofjimsblazer ) - The moment that you had seen what Jim’s shorts looked like with his hard on pressing against his jeans was the moment you realized that Jim could be a friend and a boy. That was also the moment you developed something for Jim you wouldn't be able to describe correctly for a while. Or where you and Jim are spending time together on a summers day after graduation.

Some Legs are Meant to Be Broken | E ( @boogiewrites ) - When Hopper breaks both of his legs, and you’re the newest employee at the station, it means you get recruited to be his babysitter. Would he be as frustratingly difficult to deal with as you imagine?

Hoping for Hopper | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - The reader runs a bar in town and her favorite customer Hopper comes in for a drink. The evening takes an unpleasant turn when a former classmate comes in and stirs up trouble for the reader, making her doubt herself.  Hopper steps in to help like the gentleman he is…n’t.

AMAZING HOPPER WRITERS

@bitchinsinclair

@boogiewrites

@empresskylo

@flamehairedwritings

@irrelevantwriter

saltedtears via AO3

ONE-SHOT FICS

Caregiver Prompt | K ( @thewintersoldierdisaster ) - N/A

Eggnog and Trees | K ( @darling-i-read-it ) - Request: Since it’s the Christmas season, can you write a Hopper x reader where he’s kinda a grinch and she’s just a little ball of love and light. They’re friends but then on Christmas he confesses or something like that.

At the Lake Prompt | T ( @thewintersoldierdisaster ) - N/A

First Date | T ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

Handyman | T ( generallycynical via AO3 ) - You broke your ankle while chasing someone and now you're stuck on desk duty. You complain about your grass needing mowed and the next day, Hopper shows up at your door.

He Seems | T ( @kilyra ) - Running into an ex is always awkward, but when your ex is Hopper, you fully expect it to be awful.

Home is Where the Shitty Coffee Is | T ( underthenorthstar via AO3 ) - You’ve been tutoring Eleven for the year in between the Demogorgon and the Mind Flayer. You’ve managed to develop a massive crush on her surrogate father, Jim Hopper, in that time. One late night over cups of bad coffee, things finally come to a head.

Just What the Doctor Ordered | T ( underthenorthstar via AO3 ) - You fall and injure yourself. An overprotective but sweet Hopper takes care of you.

Kisses as a Distraction Prompt | T ( @clonecaptains ) - N/A

Ranking | T ( @psychiatristreturning ) - N/A

Sneaky Chief | T ( @hawkins-hoe ) - A parent teacher conference with the handsome Chief of Hawkins leads to a sneaky dinner date.

Sweet on You | T ( xfandomwritingsx via AO3 ) - You make Jim dress up as Santa for the Christmas party.

Weeknight Take Out | T ( pettifogger via AO3 ) - N/A

Without Filters | T ( adkinsmayo via AO3 ) - You and Hopper have been best friends since seventh grade. You can see right through his bullshit and that’s what he liked most about you. Through every relationship and every shitty situation, you were always there for each other. Now the junior prom was just around the corner and you both planned to keep your childhood promise of being each other’s date. That was until Ginger Peterson came into the picture. You tried not to be mad, but you absolutely were and something was telling you it wasn’t just because he had broken his promise.

Candy Hearts | M ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

Cups | M ( @flamehairedwritings ) - Prompt: Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party.

Kisses on the Back Prompt | M ( @clonecaptains ) - N/A

Long Time Coming | M ( @xfandomwritingsx ) - You and Hopper finally give into each other.

Sunday Stroll | M ( TheOlderDixonBoy via AO3 ) - You enjoy taking walks in the morning by yourself, but when Jim Hopper starts to drive by and say good morning each day, you begin to truly look forward to them. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re pretty sure Chief Hopper enjoys these meetings as well.

A Very Hopper Birthday | M ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - It’s the reader’s 21st birthday and while out with her friends, comes across her good friend Chief Hopper.  Riding high on a little bit of liquid courage, she decides to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, with regards to her crush on Hopper.

Am I Tough Enough | E ( kitten_michael via AO3 ) - N/A

An Act of Nature | E ( @boogiewrites ) - You move back to Hawkins, luckily you hit it off with a friend of your step brothers. When Chief Hopper finally gets around to asking you out, what is it going to take for the two of you to find time alone? An act of nature?

Behind Closed Doors | E ( @tricksters-captain ) - You get into some trouble and Hopper hides you away in the cabin until it blows over but isolation isn’t for you.

Bloom | E ( @hoppersmut | DEACTIVATED ) - You trust your friend Jim Hopper completely. You’ve asked him to do something for you that no one else will ever be able to do again. You’ve trusted him to take your virginity.

Boiled Over | E ( adkinsmayo via AO3 ) - Hopper’s dominant side is usually his only side. But it rarely ever comes out in the bedroom, he’s always afraid he’ll hurt you. But when it does, Jim is ruthless. But it usually takes you being just as ruthless to get him to lose control. Or in this case, take control. And you know what they say: the heat can make you do crazy things.

Catch Me if You Can, Chief! | E ( My_Name_Is_Nobody via AO3 ) - It's the 4th of July in Hawkins, and while everybody's having fun at the amusement park, the only one who's catching your attention is Jim Hopper, Chief of Police — and he's looking at you, equally interested.

Caught | E ( @davidharbovr | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Chief Who | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - The reader is new to town and had a mildly awkward first encounter with the local chief of police.  Then, come to find out, his car is the one she’s working on and he needs a ride home.  Hopper wants to know why she’s nervous, is it all cops or just him?  The reader feels obligated to prove she’s not nervous at all and one thing leads to another and somehow they end up against the wall of Hopper’s trailer.  

Cherries a la Mode | E ( @alias-b ) - Summer of ‘83. Jim’s having a bad day at work and Lucy shows up to brighten his life. Only if he allows it. A game blooms when they’re alone in his office.

Christmas Miracle | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - You know how to make all the hours of Christmas shopping worth it. 

Clodhopper | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - Hopper gets drunk and horny…and hungry…

Come Away with Me | E ( @halfway-happyyy ) - You had the misfortune of marrying one of Hawkins sleaziest men, but when Jim Hopper enters your life, you realize that everything really does happen for a reason, and every choice has a consequence.

The County Fair | E ( @acciosnapes | DEACTIVATED ) - Barbeque grill outs, pool parties and more- late nights in Hawkins, Indiana was never really that dull, especially if you were the mayors daughter. And, especially fun if you were fucking your dads best friend.

Cuffed Up Chief | E ( saltedtears via AO3 ) - Prompt: There are so many fics out there with Hopper in control but like.. What if there was one where the reader has him in cuffs and is just teasing the ever loving shit outta him?

Dad’s Best Friend | E ( @empresskylo ) - hopper is your dad's best friend. you definitely should not be attracted to him. at the very least, he should definitely not be attracted to you...

Do Not Touch | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Feral | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - Jim was trapped in the Upside Down. He made it out and back to you. But all that time away without you means it’s only a matter of time before he snaps.

Good Girl, Bad Woman | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - You’ll get this round.

Golden Thread | E ( Verbo via AO3 ) - It’s New Year’s Eve, 1982, and tonight you might actually have a chance to act on your long-standing crush on Chief Jim Hopper.

Green | E ( mrs_squirrel_chester via AO3 ) - You’ve had your eye on Hopper for a while now.

Handyman | E ( Pnutbladdr via AO3 ) - Hopper stumbles across your private drawer of sex toys, and one in particular catches his eye

Happy Drinking with Hopper | E ( @likedovesinthewnd ) - After a grueling work week, you and Hopper decide to blow off some steam at your local dive bar.

Haunted House Prompt | E ( @chiefhopalong ) - N/A

Home Sweet Home | E ( @bitchinsinclair ) - Reader entices Hopper to fuck her by wearing his Hawkins PD jacket.

Hop to It | E ( @sherrybaby14 ) - Hopper arrests you for protesting.

Hopper BJ Fic | E ( @lucifer-in-leather ) - N/A

Hopper Can Have Nice Things, Too | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - A funhouse leads to some fun. 

In the Back of the Truck | E ( @crewhonk ) - You and Jim Hopper have some fun in the back of his truck during the Snowball.

Imagine: Riding Jim Hopper | E ( @imagine-fandom-randoms | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Late for A Date | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

Late Night Talking | E ( @laureliciousdefinition ) - You visit Hop on a slow night at the station. 

Little Girl/Old Man | E ( DeathBecomesNerds via AO3 ) - After an all-too-adventurous day with Eleven and her friends, Chief Hopper and Eleven's new guardian get a little handsy with each other.

Long Day, Longer Night | E ( @boogiewrites ) - A long day turns into an even longer night after you find yourself alone with the Chief…yet again.

New Year’s Eve | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - Prompt: Character A can’t travel to see their family, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbor Character B.

Next Contestant | E ( TheCharleeMonstah via AO3 ) - Prompt: JIM HOPPER IN A BAR FIGHT AFTER SOMEBODY GRABS HIS GIRL'S ASS, BAD MOON RISING PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. SHE IS LIKE 'hopper no-' and he's like 'HOPPER YES' and she ends patching up his cuts and such, maybe a lil smut if you fancy?? ❤️

Not the Fun Kind of Daddy Issues | E ( @boogiewrites ) - Jim Hopper is your ex husband. The fire burned bright but you just aren’t good for each other, you know it. You both try to deal with divorce and trying to raise Jane together despite your differences. Will she end up bringing you back together, or tearing you apart? Or maybe a little of both?

The Main Course | E ( @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash ) - Hopper gets stood up on his date, so you decide to make a move.

Make Me | E ( @likedovesinthewnd ) - You’re Hawkins’ finest prosecutor, smart and resourceful, beautiful and cunning. With most of your time spent at the station, butting heads with the Chief of police, what happens when all that tension comes to a head?

Memories Made in the Coldest Winter | E ( bluetriangles via AO3 ) - When your car dies during the first blizzard of the season, an unlikely savior appears in the form of Jim Hopper.

Mouthful | E ( @eleanor-gillespie ) - Literally the entire thing is reader is giving Hopper a blow job. Hopper is encouraging and adorable and has a dirtier mouth than you.

Movie Night | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

The Outfit | E ( @eleanor-gillespie ) - You work retail at the local JCPenney in the men's section. You catch the Chief of Police flirting with a new look... You help boost his confidence.

The Photo Booth | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - You and Hop need more… posed pictures together.

Picture Perfect | E ( @ssahotchswifemain ) - Hopper and his girlfriend make lasting memories together through photographs. 

Pursue | E ( @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash ) - How far can you push Hopper before he loses control?

Reconciliation | E ( @loveberrie ) - In which y/n and Jim Hopper have recently broken up, but when an incident requiring his presence arises, things may just reconcile. 

Role Reversal | E ( @davidharbovr | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Roughin’ It | E ( @glitteringroseangel ) - When Hopper takes off the weekend, The Reader convinces him to go on a camping trip together to help clear his head.

Soaked | E ( @hawkinswhores | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Slippery Hell | E ( saltedtears via AO3 ) - Prompt: Hopper trying to fit in the bathtub with his sweetheart.

Sweet Summer Lemonade | E ( @eupheme ) - You go to Murray’s for some help, you end up with a little more than you bargained for.

Tequila Sunrise | E ( MissFiction via AO3 ) - Jim Hopper encounters an office assistant he's been interested in at his favourite seedy bar and demands her attentions all to himself.

There’s More to Mornings Besides Coffee and Contemplation | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - It’s a special wake up call for our Chief of Police. One that doesn’t include coffee and contemplation.

Three in the Morning | E ( @mikahowl ) - Set right at the beginning of season 1. Reader’s back in Hawkins after graduating from college a couple months ago. As she searches for a more permanent job, she works part-time at the police station. She loves the job, despite the... history between her and her boss, Chief Hopper. A troublemaker in high school, she’s had her fair share of run ins with Hop in the past. But, that’s just it: it’s all in the past. Or is it?

“Too” Big | E ( @bitchinsinclair ) - N/A

Truck Stop | E ( saltedtears via AO3 ) - Prompt: Fucking Hawkins' Chief of police in his truck.

The Upper Hand | E ( @ashlybee ) - working at hawkins police department has it’s perks when jim hopper is your boss, but after a day of you teasing him, he forces you to go to the annual picnic. you haven’t learned your lesson and you continue to tease at the event and hopper puts you in your place.

When It Goes Wrong, It Goes Right | E ( duchess_of_brighton via AO3 ) - Prompt: Where reader tries to make a sexy show for Hopper and it doesn’t go right and she gets embarrassed but Hop comforts her and sexy times ensue…

MULTI-CHAPTER FICS

The Boys in Blue | NR ( MB234 via AO3 ) - Police Chief Jim Hopper was not a man who believed in impossible things. In the pale stark light of the horrifying, awe striking things he’d seen last year, truly the stuff of goddamned nightmares, was it really so impossible that a small, graceful, fucking gorgeous woman half his age could want him?

Moonrise Radio | T ( @whirlybirbs ) - You’re Hawkins high’s new science teacher, faculty advisor for the newly reinstated Hawkins AV club, and crazy townie who overhears a Russian comminucae on a broken ham radio. Chief Jim hopper is into it. Joyce is a good wing-woman and the kids just want to listen the the buggles. 

Ours | M ( @alloftheimagines ) - in which the reader saves hopper from the russian prison camp, and after a soft reunion, shares life-changing news: a baby he had no idea existed awaits him in hawkins.

See You Tomorrow | M ( Teadum via AO3 ) - While you’re staying with your sister Karen and her family you meet a certain police chief when he arrives to drop off his daughter.

Slow Hands | E ( @thebackseatofjimsblazer ) - Robin talks you into going out to the bar for drinks and attention, but you meet Hopper & he promises you things no man has been able to give to you.

Coffee and Infatuation | E ( @likedovesinthewnd ) - Hawkins resident grump and messy Chief of police, Jim Hopper makes an unlikely friend on his quest for coffee. His tumultuous past keeps him from pursuing a relationship. But how long before his true feelings can no longer be ignored?

Don’t Call Her Annie | E ( @boogiewrites ) - Annette Horowitz is Joyce’s younger sister. She hasn’t been the perfect sibling or aunt but after she finds out Will is missing, she finds herself crashing back into Hawkins to do everything in her power to help, driven by a need to prove herself. She hasn’t been around much in the past 20 or so years, but when she comes back home she finds old friends, old habits and old feelings she’d thought she’d finally escaped. Can she really change or is she just kidding herself?

For Your Age | E ( @acciosnapes | DEACTIVATED ) - After graduation, you want one thing, and one thing only. And his name is Chief Jim Hopper. [ PART TWO ] 

Homecoming | E ( duchess_of_brighton via AO3 ) - You and Hopper first met when you were both in downward spirals, grieving and lost. For a while, you gave each other solace, but it didn't last. Two years later you return to Hawkins, hoping to make amends and walk away without regrets this time. Funny how life never turns out quite the way you plan it...

Hungry Eyes | E ( adkinsmayo via AO3 ) - You never thought older men were your type. Older men still weren’t really your type. Unless that older man happened to be Jim Hopper. And from the way you two dance around each other in the office, makes you think younger women just might be his type. Or maybe you just happen to be his type.

Looking for the Magic | E ( @alias-b ) - Nothing ever happens in Hawkins. Jim Hopper told himself that when he was drawn back to his hometown after losing everything. Lucy Garland would disagree. The monsters here are just cleverly disguised in fine suits.

Ride Home | E ( @empresskylo ) - you had always thought chief jim hopper was hot. and you knew he thought the same about you, he just tried to hide it because it was wrong–he knew your dad for fuck’s sake… (oh, and you were still in high school.) however, after hopper crashes a house party, you ask him for a ride home. hopper briefly loses his self-control promising to never do it again…

SPECIAL FICS

Santa Baby | E ( @trailerparkgrl ) - N/A (Based on Violent Night)

Three’s Company | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - our coworkers decide to pop in for a late night visit.

#jim hopper #david harbour #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper smut #hopper #hopper x reader #hopper x you #chief hopper #chief jim hopper #stranger things

[velvetcloxds]

hey could I request a blurb for dbf! hopper where he calls reader whenever he needs help with eleven? love your blurbs!

OUR GIRL | J.H.

word count: 1k

warnings: I made this nanny!reader x dbf!hopper, hope that's okay, age gap obviously, reader is in their twenties. giggles terribly because I love him so much- also the gif??? ignore the blood though

summary: hopper asking you to come over after eleven and mike broke up

You were sitting with your back against the wall, Eleven gripping her pillow tightly though her head was settled in your lap, your fingers digging through her hair in an attempt to calm her down. When Hopper called claiming he was having trouble with her attitude you'd expected to come over to settle a little pre-teen-encouraged spat, what you found, however, was a girl trying to cope with her first breakup.

"Ellie, I'm so sorry," you hummed, the girl moving further into your lap, looking up at you with the saddest brown eyes and absolutely breaking your own heart in the process. "Boys suck," was your simple reply, and though Hopper was stuck in the hall, not allowed in but obviously peaking through the half-closed window, he offered a little nod in agreement.

You'd been the designated nanny for all the kids in town, getting first-hand information about all the latest couples and crushes and you'd sworn to give Mike Wheeler a hiding at his full pre-teen age if he so much as caused a frown on the little Hopper's lips. She was special to you, always the best company if you had to finish an assignment when watching her, helping you with dinner when Jim was working late and it didn't help at all when you and Jim ended up in your complicated little love affair, you'd rearrange the whole town for her before, you'd wipe out the whole world for her now.

"Dad said so too," she sighed and you couldn't stop yourself from pulling her up into a hug, knowing she'd long outgrown being sat up in your lap to be coddled when sad but it was awful hearing her cry like this and she clearly didn't mind, nuzzling her head into your chest with a few sniffles. "Said he'd beat Mike up if I wanted, I didn't," you had to smile, looking up to the door knowing Jim was there, knowing he'd catch your eyes and shrug.

"You can still change your mind," the man noted, and when he pushed his head through the open space both you and Eleven shook your head, sharing a knowing look before reaching a hand out to beckon him over.

"Come on in, old man," you breathed.

"Dad," she groaned and peaked up from where she'd been engulfed in your, Jim's, sweater, letting him take her hand despite her pride, managing a little smile when you squeezed her one more time. "Not cool."

"Listen, Ellie," you stepped in, guiding her to look at you, smoothing some hair from her face and dotting away the wetness under her eyes. "Not all boys are trouble, you know, despite what your dad says, but do you maybe want to wait a little longer before trying the whole dating thing again?" she nodded quickly, if this is how bad Mike, her friend, could make her feel then she had zero interest in any other boys.

"No more boys, ever," she concluded and Hopper was very pleased with that, a wide smile dipping into his lips and earning him a warning raised brow from you. "Except for Dad," she added and made both you and Jim laugh lightly. "He's a good one, that's why he's your boyfriend," she explained and wiped her cheek dry, shrugging as if it was all very self-explanatory.

"He is a good one," you agreed, happy that she was no longer crying, clearly still sad but no longer needing the extra cuddles you had planned for later.

"Do all boys break your heart?" the purest little question, Hopper looked to you to answer, this entire conversation was not for him because he could swear she was just his little El yesterday and now she's talking about boys.

"Not all of them, not the good ones," she moved to sit next to you, a little yawn slipping from her lips, tired from all the crying and the long day and the drama that was sure to come, so you brushed a hand up and down her back, an old habit from when she struggled to fall asleep. "Your dad would never," you were looking at him, smiling just as widely as he was, it was something to behold, such a silly little gesture but it was true, Jim Hopper would protect your heart for as long as he could and you knew that for sure.

"Okay, so I just need to find a good one then, like Dad," Eleven yawned again and you nodded for Hopper to meet you in the hallway, slipping out from your little corner and holding onto the girl's hand as she moved to lay down, sighing happily as you draped her with a blanket, tucking her in just as you usually do.

"You don't have to worry about that now though, you know, just stay our little Ellie for a little while longer, won't you?" you crouched down to be at her level, smiling at her sleepy state and she giggled lightly at your comment.

"I'll try," she mumbled and you kissed her forehead, booped her nose, and squeezed her hand three times just like you'd do when she fell back asleep after a bad nightmare. "I love you, blueberry," she breathed, eyes closing, heart already asleep but mind fighting it just for a few seconds.

"I love you too, pancake," and you did, she wasn't yours, not even slightly but you loved her like she was, like you'd been a part of her life forever, and in special moments like these it felt like you were. "We need to have a little word with Wheeler," you announced tiptoeing into the kitchen where Jim was already making you a cup of cocoa, silently bribing you to stay a little longer.

"We can meet him in the alley," he scoffed and you were drawn to him without any control, melting into his back as you snaked your arms around his waist. "Thank you for coming to talk to our girl," he sounded shy in the statement, busying himself by putting too much sugar in the mug Eleven got you for your birthday, she'd painted it herself and admittedly it looked awful but it was your favourite thing in the world.

"Our girl," you breathed and the words sounded so perfect to your ears, tasted like home on your lips. "We do make a good team though, don't we?"

"The best," he lifted one of your hands from his waist, squeezing it three times, kissing it softly, holding it tight. "You staying the night?"

"Will you help me study if I do?" he wouldn't, he'd distract you long enough for you to cave and cuddle but you had an extra day to study anyway so you'd risk it.

"Of course, I will," he reached a hand around and patted your butt gently, completely contradicting his words. "No distractions, no kisses until you're done," you giggled, kissing the space between his shoulder blades and you didn't need to see his smirk to know it was there, hand not showing any signs of moving.

"Liar."

#dbf!hopper #dbf!jim hopper #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x yn #hopper x reader #hopper x you #hopper x yn #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper drabble #jim hipper one shot #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #nanny!reader #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

[theodorelore]

𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞..

↱ platonic!jim hopper x m!reader

↱ cw: just father/son fluff

↱ a/n: requests are open!!

↱ let me just say, this man would be such a good dad. you want food? get in his truck, he’s taking you to get food. you wanna hang out with him? he’s calling off work.

↱ every year for christmas, without fail, he’d always buy you matching son and father necklaces- which he never took off, no matter how often someone would laugh at him for it.

↱ would be so concerned for you after will byers went missing, considering you were at mike’s house the night it happened, he just couldn’t imagine if it had happened to you.

↱ him taking you for late night drives in his patrol car. you basically just drive around and talk about how your week went, your friends, and whatever else you want to talk about.

↱ actually encourages you to go hang out with the kids, claiming that you need to socialize with someone that isn’t him. and if he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you stay late at mike’s while the group plays dnd.

↱ speaking of dnd, he’ll try his best to learn about it because while you’re telling him about it, he kinda just nods along, not really understanding what you’re saying to him at all.

↱ when in public, if anyone asks if you’re his son, he gets this dorky smile on his face and says, “yeah! that’s my boy.”

↱ especially after he adopts el, he somehow grows more protective over the two of you. since el wasn’t allowed to leave the house for a year, you would always try to sneak her out for an outing at the mall whenever hopper was at work. it worked for awhile, but eventually the two of you got caught, and he grounded the both you you.

↱ he might not look the type, but he’s all for family vacations. at least once a year, he makes you and el pack your bags for a week stay at some old cabin in kentucky.

↱ literally would not let anything happen to you. during any major fight, he makes sure you’re far away from the fighting, or at the very least, in his eyesight.

#male reader #platonic x reader #stranger things x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #hopper x you #hopper x male reader #jim hopper x male reader

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader | One morning after waking up beside Hopper, you notice his morning 🪵. You remember him mentioning something he wanted to try awhile ago, so you decide to indulge his fantasy…

It was impossible to miss; you noticed it the moment you woke up. The sheet covering Hopper’s naked body and yours was very obviously tented below his waist. You yawned softly, stretching your arms over your head. The sheet dipped and rose ever-so-subtly as Hopper’s cock bobbed under the fabric…

You wet your lips, eyes gliding up and down his sleeping form. Hopper had told you once that he’d always wanted to wake up with his dick in your mouth. But that was so long ago, the memory of Hopper mentioning it had faded from your mind. Today, however, presented you with a perfect opportunity to make his fantasy a reality.

Slipping a hand below the sheet, you gently pulled the fabric aside. Hopper’s erection pointed sturdy and thick towards the ceiling, a bead of precum dotting his tip. You felt him stir slightly, his body probably reacting to the change in temperature from having the warm sheet pulled from his waist.

You knelt your cheek against Hopper’s thigh, and pulled the sheet over your head, covering his legs again. Under the covers, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse hair on Hopper’s thigh, pressing a light kiss there. He stirred again very slightly, grunting in his sleep and murmuring something drowsy and unintelligible. You cupped a hand over your mouth and tried not to giggle at Hopper’s babbling, focusing instead on your task.

Pressing forward under the covers, your lips met Hopper’s cock in a soft kiss. He pulsed in response to the stimulation, stiffening and tapping against your lips. You smiled hungrily, and closed your mouth around his shaft. You slowly massaged Hopper’s girth from balls to tip, and back down again.

Hopper groaned, his legs twitching slightly under the covers. You slid your mouth along his shaft, tracing the veins in Hopper’s cock with your tongue. You added soft kitten licks to his tip, peppering it in kisses. Hopper throbbed against your mouth, his tip smearing precum over your lips like a gloss.

You sank your mouth over Hopper’s cock, taking the first four inches down your throat easily. His body jerked slightly, his breathing going deeper. A new tension stiffened Hopper’s thighs beneath your breasts, which were pressed soft and warm against him as your mouth serviced his cock.

Tugging him deeper with a firm, consistent suck, you were able to take a few more inches before your gag reflex activated. You let Hopper’s tip spread the muscles in your throat, smiling around his cock when you heard his familiar, drowsy voice mumble your name.

Hopper reached beneath the covers and laced his fingers through your hair. Holding your head in place, he elevated his hips to fuck up into your throat. “Good baby, y’suck it so fuckin’ good…” Hopper murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep. He guided your mouth up and down his shaft, grunting each time his thrusts tapped the back of your throat.

The pace of Hopper’s breathing had increased, his grip in your hair tightening. You could tell he was getting close, so you sucked even harder. Hopper’s knees bucked, his thighs closing around your head. His thrusts were sloppy and slow at first; but as the haze of waking began to fade, Hopper’s thrusts grew sharper, determined. He pressed your face deeper into the wiry hair at the base of his cock, your nose bumping his stomach with each punch of his hips.

“Christ-I’m gonna come-,” Hopper groaned. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense, as warm semen sprayed the back of your throat and slid down to your stomach. You licked the rest of his cum from his belly, the tension in Hopper’s body dissolving in the warm afterglow of orgasm.

He pulled the sheet aside, revealing your ruddy face and slick, satisfied smile. “Good morning, baby,” Hopper grinned down at you. “Good morning, Hop,” you replied. He slid his hands under your arms and lifted you up, making you giggle in surprise. Flipping you onto your back, Hopper adjusted himself on the bed so his face was nestled between your thighs.

“Don’t you have work today, Chief?” you teased. “They’re gonna wonder why you’re taking so long to get-ahh!” You gasped as Hopper’ tongue made a long swipe across your pussy, silencing you. He smirked arrogantly up at you from between your thighs. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he asked coyly.

“-to the station,” you replied breathlessly. “They’ll miss you at the-ungh!!”

Hopper plunged his tongue between your lips, cutting your sentence short again. “They can wait awhile longer,” he murmured, his cheek resting against your thigh. “Besides…” Hopper trailed kisses from your thigh to your belly button and below, his lips lingering above your clit. “…I haven’t had my breakfast yet...”

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

[sunnylands-world]

Batch of cookies

Pairing: Jim Hopper x fem reader

Summary: You've just moved to town with your parents. your mother thinks it's only the neighborly thing to do for you to bring cookies to the chief your father works with but not everything stays that way…

Word count: 1'793

Warning: p in v, daddy kink, oral [fem receiving], pet names [sugar, pretty girl…]

Universe: stranger things

A/n: here's this one guys since I started writing it a while ago

You stayed across the street from the chief of police for the past few years you had been living in Hawkins. Your mother insisted you bring him some of the cookies you baked. The first time you knocked hopper thought you were a girl scout. you were sixteen with a sugar, sweet smile and held the plate out when he answered. You were in a flowy skirt and a somewhat tight white t-shirt that was tucked in. Your thighs showed beneath the skirt and your baby blue bra was visible in the plain shirt which he noticed before you snapped him out of his train of lustful thoughts.

"Hi," you beamed. Jim was exhausted and not in a very good mood on top of the hard-on forming in his work pants.

"Look kid, I don't buy cookies from girl scouts so you can leave my porch." he said, going to shut the door.

"Oh no chief, I'm y/n. My father works at the station with you and my mom said to bring cookies as a thank you." you said presenting the cookies again. His eyebrow raised as he looked across the street and back at you.

"For your service sir" you said, reading the expression on his face. He nodded, taking the plate and shutting the door.

You immediately assumed he was not interested in friendly neighbors. After that, you saw him to drop off cookies which he grew to love. you begin to enjoy seeing him on his porch with a cigarette in between his lips and looking exhausted. When you're at the door, his uniform would be unbuttoned, a white shirt, sweaty and his brown hair stuck to his forehead. Today was a bit different… your dad had asked hopper to watch you while he and your mother left.

of course, he didn't like the idea; not because he didn't like your company but because he realized this would mean you were at his place for the night after he watched you leave in and out of your house in your short skirts and fantasy about what was under. he tried to tell them off saying you were eighteen and would be fine but your father insisted that he didn't want his precious daughter at home alone so here you were with cookies, a small bag of clothes, and waiting for instructions on where to sleep.

"You can sleep in the extra room, the bathrooms right there," he said pointing out the places and you nodded, setting down the cookies.

"Can I shower?" you asked heading towards the bathroom.

"Yeah," he responded. You entered the bathroom, stripped yourself down, and got into the shower trying to clear up your anxious thoughts about being in his home knowing you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. A few minutes passed before you were out, damp hair and in your sleeping gown. hopper's eyes widened as he looked longer than was appropriate. your eyes raked over him as he sat with a white tank top and boxers. you couldn't deny how much you wanted him right now. your eyes trained on his underwear that now had enlarged in his lower region and back up to his.

"hop i-" he quickly got up heading for his room before he or you did something you might regret. you grabbed his wrist pulling him down and kissing him softly he let his lips move against yours eagerly before he pulled back shaking his head.

"no your-i" he stuttered, trying to fight his lust. "But I want to," you said, searching his eyes.

"Please hop no one else can make it go away," you begged and he caved with a groan as you giggled in excitement. He sat back on the couch pulling you on top of him. hands grabbing your ass with a tight squeeze, lips crashing into each other desperately as you rocked against him. His teeth bite your lower lip, causing prickles of pain, but it hurt in a good way, knowing he was so in need that he'd bite you. A moan leaves you as his tongue slides in tasting the open space.

his hands grip tighter as you continue to rock against him only worried about the wetness soaking your panties. It brings light pleasure to your aching pussy, but it's not enough. His lips left yours leaving light kisses across your jaw with heavy breaths as he moved closer to your neck. his tongue did a small dance before he began to lightly suck the area and your head fell forward, putting you near his ear as you whined. He pulled back.

"What's wrong sugar," he asked, seeing your eyes glossy. "It's not enough," you pouted and a smirk replaced the worried look.

"You want more of me," he asked and you nodded. He quickly lifted the gown over your head, now exposing your breasts with hardened nipples.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful. I could eat you like a cookie" he said, and your cheeks grew darker than before. His fingers slowly moved down till they met your panties running along the waistband. His eyes met yours, glowing with lust.

"Can I taste you pretty girl?" he said, lightly pulling them and letting the band pop back in place. You shyly, whispering a yes.

"speak up for me, say it louder," he pulled the panties down a bit but not enough to show anything.

"Yes" you breathed out and he smiled. He flipped you so you laid beneath him, pulling your underwear down. His eyes fell to your core being covered by your thighs as you squeezed them.

"No, no that won't do. Come on then, spread your legs for me. Let me see." he said. You open your legs, giving him space between them. He lowered himself between them, gazing at your center in awe.

"Look at you sugar, so pretty," he said, pressing a small kiss to your clit, fingers coming to play between your wet folds.

"Hop" you whined, bringing your hands to your breasts, pinching at your hardened nipples. He hummed as he opened his mouth around your pussy, letting spit coat you before he's flicking his tongue at your bud, fingers coming to pry at your hole.

You cry out squeezing his head between your legs, fingers tangling in his hair. His thick fingers working inside you, connecting with the wet muscle as he licks at your clit sending your eyes to the back of your head as the sweet tension builds in your belly. You just want release, but you also want to stay like this with his attention all on you. his hands on you, tongue on you, and anything else he'll give you as long as it's him.

"Hopper i-" you're pretty sure whatever you were about to say would make him stop doing this and you need some part of him even if it was only this. He pulls back though and for a second you thought you messed up or something till his lips clash with yours and he's grinding into your uncovered area. your eyes flutter shut and you moan into his lips. His beard lightly scratches at your skin while you cup his face.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard right now. Hard enough to make you cry for me." He moaned.

"Please," you say, pulling at his shirt and he doesn't withhold any longer, freeing his cock from his boxers. your eyes widen and your mouth waters. He's thick like his fingers, veins running along the side and pre-cum running from the tip. you're so tempted to put him in your mouth, but that would have to wait for another time.

He slips right in thanks to your wetness. The stretch burns as he rocks slowly, giving you time to adjust. You can tell he's struggling to not move faster by his heavy breathing and low curses. You moan softly as your body moves with the couch. The space isn't ideal, but the tingling in your body is enough to ignore the small sofa. He picks the pace, sending you haywire as he pushes your legs up on his shoulders and you gasp.

"oh, god daddy" the word falls from your lips before you can stop it, but he doesn't slow, he thrust harder, ramming his tip into your spot.

"Say it again," he growled.

"Daddy" it falls from you easily this time and he lets out a chuckle, teeth nipping at the skin of your ankle. He threw his head back as your walls tightened around him. You knew your father would flip if he found out, but you just couldn't help yourself. It's Jim Hopper and he was so damn sexy. His hips continued to snap into yours and your legs were quivering. You probably look like you are being possessed, but you are in a way.

You are floating in a state of blissfulness, your chest heavy with your breath as your back arches and you can't tell if it's to run from him or be closer, but you're going with the ladder, because you'd never run from something that felt this good. it only makes you drip more as you think about the fact that this is a secret and yet you're moaning like you're singing a prayer. Maybe you want to be caught and be told you're disgusting for sleeping with a man near your dad's age at eighteen because something about being humiliated for this made your end a hell of a lot closer.

"Fuck Jim please!" His eyes lock on your frame and a half smile makes its way on his face. He brings one of his hands between your legs, thumb rubbing at your clit as you make unrecognizable sounds. your body jerks but he doesn't stop, he just grabs you tighter and slams harder like he's trying to ruin you from the inside out. you're weakened and your skin feels like you're being zapped in random places with pleasure. It's an intense roller coaster ride that you just can't stop riding as it goes through its many loops.

"That's it come for daddy sugar," he says, his hand slapping the skin of your thigh.

"I'm gonna cum hop," you say as your toes curl on his shoulders; and then you're off riding in the clouds completely unfiltered as filthy mumbles falls from your lips and your eyes roll with a wave shooting from head to toe. He follows with the squeeze of your pussy, letting his hips move lazily and losing grip as he fills you fully. He drops your legs, breathing heavily as you both come down. He kisses your forehead and carries you to his bedroom

and you hope it's for round two…

#jim hopper #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x oc #hopper x y/n #hopper x fem #hopper x reader #hopper x you #jim x reader #smut

[ervotica]

dbf!hopper in which your parents ask him to watch you because you twisted your ankle at the pool :( you couldn’t be safer than with the sheriff, but your parents don’t know you two are closer than they think

“it’s absolutely sweltering, how can you still want to cuddle?!”

i’m torn between smutty n fluffy so u choose bae 🫡

Thank you for this my lovely, my love for our one and only Sheriff Hopper is unmatched; Hopper humours your dramatics over a twisted ankle, fluff ensues; 800 words

bambi’s sun kissed summer celly

“Hi, Honey.”

You’re pouting the moment you limp through the police station; you know you are, and it only gets more prominent, your soft little lip pushing further out as Hopper catches a glimpse of your deflated countenance.

You hop your way over to his desk, the door swinging shut behind you, and plant your bum onto the solid wood furniture in front of the older man. Your thighs squish, pushing against the seams of your frayed denim shorts; Jim thinks you’re practically edible.

“How’d you manage that, huh?” He lifts your swollen ankle, resting the heel of your foot against his thick thigh as you whine and halfheartedly explain how you tripped and sprained your ankle at the pool.

“Wasn’t my fault! Tripped ‘cos Hargrove distracted me, fuckin’ shouting.”

“Language.”

You huff and roll your eyes but you don’t curse again. He begins rubbing soothing circles into your calf, squashing the flesh in and then pulling it tight, working his way up your leg until he’s at the pudge of your hip. He squeezes you there, laughs as you prickle and squirm under his heated stare.

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

He lifts you with ease, hooking your legs over one of his arms where the other holds you up at the base of your spine. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, what with the chief being your dad’s closest friend; no one ever realises there might be more to your relationship than that.

He deposits you safely in the passenger seat of his car, pausing to pinch your chin and nudge you gently into the centre of the seat.

“Attagirl,” he mumbles, leaning over you to fasten your seatbelt; you don’t bother telling him that you’re capable of doing it yourself. You adore the attention from him.

You’re dozy and content on the ride to Hopper’s cabin despite the throbbing in your ankle. Lolling your head to the side, you gaze at the man next to you with a level of adoration only seen in cringy romance movies.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he teases in that deadpan way he jokes; you flush white-hot right down to your toes.

After he parks, you let him lift you back out of the car and snuggle in close; the frayed hem of your cut off t-shirt tickles his arm. If it bothers him he doesn’t say so. You reach up and scratch at his jaw, fingers touching and then spreading out until they’re splayed across his stubbled cheek.

The couch is a welcome comfort; it smells of Jim, feels like him as you sink into it with a happy little grunt. You whine and reach for him when he steps away to toe his heavy boots off, quickly perking back up as he makes his way towards you, towards his permanent dent in the seat cushion.

You knock his hat off of his head with the way you fly across the space between the pair of you and into his lap; he doesn’t even scold you as he usually would. You thank the Lord for your injury. His arms naturally fit around your body and he hikes you up until you’re comfortable cradled in his lap, your hurt leg stretched straight to avoid any unnecessary tension.

“Honey,” he laughs, this deep bellowing sound that pushes his eyes half shut and reveals smile lines mostly hidden from the outside world. “It’s absolutely sweltering, how can you still want to cuddle?”

“Missed you,” you mumble into the fabric of his Sheriff’s uniform. “Need a cuddle.”

He coos something sweet that isn’t quite a word and you make a funny sound somewhere between contentment and a complaint. Your face goes to the juncture of his neck, eyes closed as his hand spreads across the top of your head and locks you tight against him. You go still and limp.

“‘s nice,” you slur, already well on your way to being asleep.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, sweet thing?”

“No,” you mildly protest; you both know it’s a lie. You press a featherlight kiss to his neck, and then another. Jim’s fingers scratch at your scalp the way he knows you like.

“That nice?” he asks.

Your replying snore tickles his neck.

#bambi’s sun kissed summer celly #love letters #ily #jim hopper #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper drabble #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x reader #jim x reader #hopper x reader #hopper x you #hopper x fem #hopper x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #writer #writing #writers on tumblr #fanfic #fanfiction

[munson-blurbs]

Hopper volunteers to play Santa for the kids and reader is an elf.. and things get spicy (once all the kids are gone for the day of course...). I got Violent night Santa look in my head and it's living there. :)

I'm not sure what I've done here but...either I'm sorry, or you're welcome.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), mean!Hopper, costumes, oral (m! receiving), p in v, brat taming, no aftercare, semi-public sex (no one is around), age gap (reader is 21, Hop is in his 40s), degrading language

A/N: Divider credit to @firefly-graphics. Thanks to @trashmouth-richie and @corroded-hellfire for their feedback and patience <3

At some point in their lives, everyone fantasizes about someone they shouldn’t. For some people, it might be their teacher; others may think about a friend’s parent or their boss. 

You? You couldn’t keep your imagination from running wild with dirty daydreams about Jim Hopper: full-time Chief of Police and current Starcourt Mall Santa Claus.

A scowling boy hoists himself onto Hopper’s lap, mouth and fingers sticky with lollipop residue. “Santa!” he barks, tugging on his beard. “Last year, I asked you for a new TV, and you didn’t bring me one. You suck!” He sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry. “This year, I want a Sega Master. Got it?” The kid jumps off and stomps over to where you’re standing off to the side in your ridiculous elf costume. He holds out his hand and stares at you expectantly. “Um, hello? Candy cane!” You roll your eyes but oblige, placing the candy in his palm as he skulks over to his mom.

“Good riddance,” you mutter under your breath, just loud enough for Hopper to hear you. The usually humorless man snorts lightly, but quickly regains his composure as the next spoiled tyrant demands a list of toys they just need to have.

Tonight is Christmas Eve, which means it’s the final night for you to make your move. For the past month, you’ve been eyeing Chief Hopper, doing your best to discreetly obtain his attention. Rolling your skirt at the waist so he could get a better glance at your ass when you leaned over, wearing a push-up bra so the top of your cleavage was visible to him, or seductively sucking on the leftover candy canes at the end of your shift. Yet every night ended the same–he smoked a cigarette before grunting a goodbye, speeding away in his old Chevy.

You’re determined to make tonight different, and you put your plan into action the moment the last kid leaves.

“Think that’s the last of ‘em,” Hopper announces, stretching his meaty legs from the plush velvet seat. His eyes are tired after a long day of fake smiling and half-listening to whining rugrats. He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, groaning. “This is the last time I let the guys on the force convince me to do this shit. ‘Giving back to the community,’ my ass.” He pulls a pack of Camels and a Zippo from his Santa suit pocket and lights up, taking a long drag.

“Actually,” you say, sauntering over to him, “I think there’s one more person who needs to tell you their Christmas wish.” You gingerly sit on his lap, fluffing out your skirt so that only your green tights and lace panties separate you from him. “You see, I’ve been a really good girl this year, and there’s only one thing I want.”

 “Let me guess,” he mumbles, taking another puff from his cigarette, “a diamond necklace? Shiny new convertible?”

You shake your head and use your forefinger to tilt his head towards yours. “I’ve always had a thing for you, Hop,” you admit, unhooking the fake beard from his red-and-white cap, unveiling a thin line of stubble along his jawline. “The way you walk like you own this shithole town, commanding authority wherever you go…it’s really fucking hot.”

Hopper laughs gruffly, nudging you from his lap. “What are you? Twenty?”

“Twenty-one, actually,” you retort, repositioning yourself so you’re now straddling his waist. “And unless you have another pack of cigs in your pants pocket, I suspect you’re into me, too.”

He snuffs out his cigarette on the arm of his chair. “And I’d suspect that you’ve never had a man turn you down. Isn’t that right, princess?”

“You’re not about to be the first, are you?” you ask, pouting as you press your chest against his. “Because that’s not a title I’d wear proudly.” You lean in to kiss his neck, but he turns slightly. “What’s not doing it for you, hm? Tits not perky enough? Body not tight enough?”

Hopper rests his head back and chuckles meanly. “Now, princess, you know that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is it?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m more than twice your age, I’m your coworker–”

“Not after tonight,” you remind him pointedly, moving his arms down to your ass. To your surprise, he doesn’t move them. 

“Right, yeah,” he sneers. “Well, that doesn’t change the first part. And I have a reputation of keeping order, and I’m not about to tarnish it by fucking you in the middle of the mall.”

“Interesting,” you purr, pressing soft kisses along his throat. “Because I have a reputation, too. But mine is for getting what I want, when I want. Now, Chief,” you grind slowly against his burgeoning erection, “if you tell me to leave, I’ll leave right now. But I have a feeling that’s not what you want, is it?”

Hop’s eyes flicker to your heaving chest, and you feel him start to cave. His strong hands grip the flesh of your thighs as he bites his lower lip. “I’m no good for you, y’know that?”

“I know.” You kiss him hungrily, brushing your tongue against his. He tastes like smoke and peppermint, and you moan into his mouth. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this…needed this,” you amend.

“I like this better when you don’t talk,” he snarls, and you nod obediently, fingers flying over his coat buttons as you undo them. He’s wearing nothing but a ratty undershirt, and you whimper at the tufts of chest hair that peek through. He’s a real fucking man, not one of those idiot frat boys that plague your college campus. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it my way. Got it, princess?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimper. 

“On your knees,” Hop commands, and you scramble to get on the floor. He pulls his cock out of the confinements of his velvety pants, hissing at the release. He’s so thick, with veins straining along the shaft. You’re unsure how much you’ll be able to take, not that you’ll admit that to him. 

He grabs a handful of your hair as he guides you to his length. Precum is already beading at the tip, and you have to bite back a smile at the confirmation that he’s just as turned on as you are. You hollow your cheeks as you suck him off, gliding your tongue back and forth from tip to base and back again. 

“Bet you’re used to callin’ the shots,” he growls. “These dumb guys falling at your feet, beggin’ you to make them feel good. You’ve never had to beg like this before, have you?”

“Mm-mm,” you manage with your mouth full of him.

“Thas’ right,” he slurs, pushing your head down to the thatch of curls near his pelvis. You sputter and choke when his tip hits your gag reflex. “Am I more than the princess can handle?”

“I can h-handle whatever you g-give me,” you whisper hoarsely. You start to make your way back down to his cock, but he stops you, tugging you by your hips back onto his lap. He rips open your tights and pushes your panties to the side, and you gasp at the sudden chill.

“Only good girls get to make me cum with their mouths,” he states, wrapping his palm around your neck with one hand and rubbing himself against your wet folds with the other. “You said you were a good girl, but you seem like a brat to me.”

“Wanna…wanna be a good girl f’you,” you moan breathily. “Do anything for you, sir.”

“That’s better.” Hop smirks. He lines himself up with you, teasing your hole. “Sit on it, princess.” His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head as you take him in, inch by inch. “Pussy’s so tight, so damn good,” he mutters, and this time, you can’t contain your satisfaction as he starts to crack.

“Am I more than you can handle, sir?” you shoot back, eager to use his own line against him.

Hop’s eyes turn sharp at your reply, and he tightens his grip on your throat. “Watch it,” he warns, “or I won’t let you cum.”

“‘M sorry, sir.” You have no time to feel any sense of shame before he’s bucking his hips into you, groping a costume-covered tit roughly. He’s hitting your sweet spot rhythmically, sending shockwaves through your body each time.

“Not good enough,” he scoffs. “Need to hear you beg me to let you cum. An’ you better do it fast, b’cause I’m close.”

“Please, sir; please let me cum. ‘M sorry for being a brat. I’ll be a good girl; I’ll listen to you, I promise. I just need to cum, need you to make me cum.” The pleading ripples past your throat, and you realize you’d promise anything just for an orgasm from him.

“Move your fuckin’ hips for me.” It’s his way of forgiving you, and you snap your hips back and forth. He’ll leave a necklace of bruises with the grip he has on you, and you’ll wear it with pride.

“I’m gonna cum, sir–if you’ll let me,” you plead one last time, desperate for his approval.

He nods, moving his hand from your throat to your hips, stifling some of the pressure as you ride him. “‘M gonna fill you up and leave you dripping with my cum, princess. Want you to see how I fuckin’ ruined you.”

You squeak out an mhmm as your orgasm washes over you, finishing while he thrusts harder. His own release comes just seconds later, and though you thought his cock felt perfect, nothing compares to him spilling into you.

There’s no cuddling or sweet nothings whispered into your ear; Hop simply pulls you off of his softening cock like you’re weightless. His cum drips down your leg and, always determined to get the last word, you scoop it up with your middle finger and lick it off. He cocks an eyebrow.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he says with a shake of his head.

Your tongue pokes out between your teeth as you fix your panties and adjust your skirt. “Am I a good girl yet?” you question, feigning innocence.

Hop lets out an incredulous laugh, lighting another cigarette. “Go home before you get yourself in more trouble.”

“Not too much trouble that the Chief of Police wouldn’t bail me out of though, right?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

He blows out a cloud of smoke and tucks himself back into his pants. “Merry Christmas, princess.”

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper smut #smut #jim hopper stranger things #hopper x you #hopper x reader #hopper x fem!reader #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #stranger things #requests

[hoe-for-hopper]

Visiting Hopper

WARNINGS: unprotected piv, daddy kink, fingering

Word Count: 978

Summary: You know the drill. No Plot, Just Vibes.

A/N: I <3 Hopper. Also, I suck at endings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“For the last time, I’m not coming out to your house unless there is an actual crime you need to report.” You can hear Hopper angrily speaking to someone on the phone before slamming it into the receiver and swearing. 

Hesitating, you poke your head through the crack in his door and knock softly. “Hi.” 

“Oh, hi, baby. Come in. Shut the door behind you, please.” Hopper pushes his chair back and walks around his desk to meet you. Pulling your small frame close to his chest, he inhales the scent of your shampoo, letting out a low groan. “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to stop by. You know, I was over this way.” Your mouth transforms into a mischievous grin as you trace shapes on his broad chest.

“Mm. Is that so?” He grabs your sides as he holds you at arm’s length taking you in. “You look so beautiful.” You’re wearing the flowy sundress Hopper had gotten you for your birthday. Blushing, you smack his arm before moving to perch on the edge of his desk, spreading your legs slightly, pretending to be innocent. He glances down at your open legs before his eyes flicker back up to yours, “Oh, I see. Why don’t you tell Daddy what you really came here for?” In a second, he’s spread your legs wider, stepping between them and pulling your mouth to his.

Batting your eyes and looking up at his large frame through your lashes, “I don’t what you’re talking about, Chief.”

Your words make Hopper’s cock swell, straining painfully against his uniform. He leans forward, pushing you down onto your back with his body, mouth hovering over your ear to whisper, “Don’t be shy.” 

You’re trying to hold out for as long as possible, but Hopper is always better at teasing than you are. “I just wanted to see you.” Your sex is already dripping, feeling the weight of his body on yours.

“Okay then, I’ll get back to work.” He kisses your neck before lifting himself off of you. 

With the loss of his weight pressing into you, you whisper, “Okay, okay. I want you.” 

Letting out a small chuckle, “I thought so.” He pushes your dress up, sliding your panties down to your ankles where they fall to the floor. Dragging a finger through your slit, you can hear how wet you are for him. “So wet, already? I haven’t even touched you yet.” He’s smiling down at you and you move your hips up and down, trying to create friction. “Needy.”

Using one hand to undo his belt and unzip his uniform pants, the other is curling inside of you, making you squirm. Biting your lip, you know you have to be quiet, you don’t want the other officers in the office to hear the sounds you make when Hopper fucks you. 

Pushing his finger in one last time, he replaces it with his thick length, not giving you time to adjust to the size of him. Pulling your legs around his waist, he slips his hands under your hips to lift you off the desk, angling himself deeper. “This what you wanted?” Hopper is quieting his own grunts as he thrusts into you, your movements pushing papers off his desk.

Not trusting yourself to open your mouth, you just nod. Reaching up over your head to grip the edges of the desk, you knock his coffee mug to the floor landing with the loud crash of broken ceramic. 

Hopper slows his pace as footsteps approach his door. “Everything okay in there, Chief?” The locked doorknob wiggles.

“Yeah. Get back to work!” He looks back down at you, “Careful.” He leans forward to growl into your ear. He stands back up to fuck into you even harder and faster than before, his calloused hands gripping you tightly. “Oh sweetheart, I can feel you. You gonna cum? Cum all over my cock.”

Your building orgasm hits its peak and you’re trying desperately to hold in your cries of pleasure. Hopper’s hand flies to your mouth when he sees your back arch off the desk. One hand still gripping the edge and the other grasping Hopper’s large wrist. 

He doesn’t stop or slow his pace, instead he presses his hand firmer onto your mouth as his other hand grips your hip. He hums as his head falls backward. His hands gripping you tighter, you feel him twitch inside you. Leaning forward, his forearms placed next to your head, he kisses your temple. “Doing so good. Not gonna last much longer.”

Your walls clench around him at his praise. You shut your eyes, attempting to hold off the moans you can feel forming on your tongue. As he peppers kisses up and down your face, his movements grow more erratic, his breathing heavier.

Giving one last deep, hard thrust, he finishes inside of you. Your walls closing down around the warm liquid.

Hopper helps you stand up and fixes your dress before scooping your discarded underwear off the floor. He helps you slide back into them before pulling you close and tucking you into his chest. Kissing the top of your head, he whispers, “I really have to get back to work, baby.” 

You snuggle into his embrace before pulling away. “I’ll see you at home.”

Hopper walks you through the station, you can feel the other officer’s eyes on you and you wonder if they know what the two of you just did. Smiling, you follow your boyfriend out of the front doors towards your car.

“I’ll be home late tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me.” Hopper helps you into your car, leaving a fresh kiss on your lips.

Your whole body is still tingling as you drive back to the cabin thinking that you’ll definitely wait up for him tonight.

#chief hopper x reader #chief hopper x you #hopper x reader #hopper x you #chief hopper smut #hopper smut #hopper/reader #hopper/you #chief hopper fic #npjv

[odetodilfs]

Jim Hopper x male reader married headcanons

If you’re an afab guy you can read like 90% of this as I mean male reader in the sense that he uses words like “husband” to refer to you.

--------------------------------------------------------- Here we're working with husband! Jim Hopper, my favorite, imagine any season Hopper you want as this doesn't have a specific season Hop.

CW: public almost sex, I guess a brief mention of internalized homophobia?? and mentions of scent kinks, anal sex/fingering and that's it.

This list is mainly fluff, with some smut.

Also a special thanks to my discord friend, as they helped me to come up with some of these!

He proposed to you after the most luxurious dinner date at Enzo’s, he asked you if you were down for a nightly walk in the forest, after you agreed, you stepped out and knelt down on one knee, before asking you to be his husband, you obviously replied yes.

You both could barely wait to get home, after what seemed like an eternity you finally got home and fucked for hours, alternating between him topping you or him bottoming for you.

For your wedding he quite literally invited the whole of Hawkins, you will never forget his reply when you asked him why: “Darling, this is all so incredible, but why basically the whole town” “Because I want everyone to know you’re mine,” he said, smiling.

On top of you being his, you also agreed to his surname, he also wanted you to have his surname, but he asked you with a lack of confidence that was unusual for him. “Maybe… if you wish…. you could take my surname?” he said, with a shy smile. “Oh my fucking god, yes, Jim, yes”, you smiled “I want to be yours”

The sex didn’t decline or get less common, if anything he seemed even more needy for you, on sex filled nights, after you both collapsed exhausted, he’d constantly try to push his dick back inside you, or he’d try to get his ass back on your dick.

Not that he didn’t do this before your marriage, but after you two were married he would rope you in for a wild, wet kiss right in the middle of the park, him getting off on the fact that everyone could see how fucking in love you both were and how you were his and his only.

Again, in public you would sit on his lap. 

He’d also kiss you so often, literally every 15 minutes you could expect him to kiss you, and for him to call you his beautiful husband, he loved doing that especially since it was hard for him to accept his bisexuality, but now he loved you, and loved the fact he was married to a man.

The night that made both of you cry was when he started sobbing into your chest, telling you how happy you and El made him, how he finally had everything he’d ever wanted, how his wish of having a family and someone to love was there.

He’d hold you as physically close to him as possible and would would whisper things like “I love you so fucking much sweetheart”

The man is secretly a softy, and you couldn’t love that more, he’d tear up a lot as he still isn’t fully used to the amount of love you give him, you loved being able to be his husband, to call yourself that, those 2 magical words “Jim’s husband” always made your day.

As much as he loves eating you out he has the same amount of love for getting eaten out, and you happily satisfy his needs for that, you love tasting his musk on your tongue and you love how he squirms at your tongue in his ass, and occasionally, your fingers rubbing his prostate, and him shooting in your mouth.

Though as much as he loves bottoming, he does top more, but that's fine by you as his dick can make you feel so many things at once

Both of you LOVE scents, while he likes you to wear sweeter scents, such as vanilla or pine cone, he sometimes puts on cologne, but he knows how no scent can do for you other than his musk, be it from his pits, dick, you love his scent, and he knows it, he also loves how your smells mix together during sex.

When you’re sleeping, well “sleeping” according to Jim, he grinds against your ass, only for you to moan as he does this, then he sees you’re awake and the real fun starts.

When in public and he grabs your thigh, crotch, anything that isn’t your hand, you say a quick “Babe!” or “Jim!” while looking at him, he always replies “Huh, can’t touch my husband anymore’” with a teasing little smile, fuck, if it wasn’t so cute you’d scream at him.

As much as he seems very dominant, and trust me, he is, he also has a sub side, letting you cuff him and edge him as well as him doing the same to you, or letting you top him, or teasing him endlessly.

Seems like you’re making this man that used to be grumpy very, very happy…

#jim hopper headcanons #jim hopper smut #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper #jim hopper x male reader #husband! jim hopper #dad bod #david harbour #dad bods are hot #male reader #gay love #hopper is hot #hopper x you