#hopper x reader

[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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[medium-rare-bimbo]

Faster than light thoughts

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

May contain stepcest, age gap, dubcon dark content

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡dark!!! CULT LEADER EDDIE !!! CULT LEADER EDDIE !!! CULT LEADER EDDIE !!!!!!! Imagine being his object of affection, the one he devotes his followers life to <3<3 did someone say virgin! Reader ?? 👁👁 yes me I did. He takes your virginity as a ritual, there are people surrounding your bed as he takes what's his, telling you that this is what needs to be done so you can ascend into a higher being

♡ chrissy, nancy, robin sleepover where they teach virgin! reader how to cum. Youd be so embarrassed to admit it :(( but that's okay they tell you its completely natural and to go at your own pace and not every boy is going to make you cum. Boys are useless! When you shamefully tell them that you've never EVER cum and that you havent even had your first kiss, they assure it that it's okay and robin offers to teach you <3 naturally you end up with your back against her chest and her fingers in your cunt, you had gotten fuzzy a while ago and everyone was fawning over you pretty pussy. They all take turns in fingering you and tasting you, you have the best sleep you've ever had ♡♡♡

♡ being fucked with a beer bottle <3 would be with either eddie or billy, they'd laugh at you while you cry about how gross it is

♡ cucking Jason <3 what better way to get back at your bully than fucking his girlfriend, chrissy deserves her tits in my mouth

♡ stealing their shirts so you can put it on a pillow and hump it later !!!!!

♡ making you squirt infront of people!! Maybe billy, thinking he gets an ego boost after it. Or eddie think he would let everyone have a go of making you squirt <3 such a sweetheart

♡ hopper catching you working at a strip club then blackmailing you after you beg for him not to tell anyone <3 he makes you fuck yourself dumb on his cock then mocks you when your legs go numb

♡ bimbo! crybaby! Reader getting her clit pinched after she gets bratty

♡ hybrid reader!! Hybrid reader !!! Hybrid reader!!!!!! Bunny! Puppy! Kitty! Cow! Bird! Bear! Lamb! Mouse!! SO MANY THOUGHTS IN MY BRAIN!!!!!!!

♡ I think steve would like a kitty, all pretty and only exists for the purpose of looking good and being a hole to stuff <3<3 spoil me so much !!!! Or maybe a puppy, gets to leash me up and make me choke on his cock maybe breed me

♡ eddie would like a bunny, a soft little thing that can keep up with his fat loads of cum, or maybe a kitty who does nothing but lay there and mewl for his cum <3 he just wants a little dumb thing he can corrupt

♡ hopper likes the puppy because old grumpy men and puppies are soul mates!!! Hed be so strict but I'd love him for it !!! Make me feel so special 👁👁 piss kink with hopper x untrained puppygirl reader 👁👁 smoking a cigar while you cock warm him I'm all gooey inside

♡ I think billy would definitely be into cow hybrids 👁👁 cuz like hes the bull of Hawkins and I think he needs a little breeding cow and on milky titz to sucky suck👁👁 shy lil thing that follows him around

♡ robin would like a bird because they're so quiet and pretty!! Just so nice to look at and she would definitely love it when you try to groom her makes her feel so special!!! Or when you coo as shes eating you out omg !! loves how soft your lil wings are !!!

♡ nancy definitely be into puppygirls<3<3 I think shed love to just do whatever she pleases especially when you take everything she gives you, you're so obedient and eager to please her !!!!!!!!!

♡ argyle? Definitely a cow orr maybe a mouse, just wants someone whose soft and warm. Would let you sit on his cock while he smokes, all the praises !!! Stroke your pretty little thighs and pet your ears sucky sucky on those titties

♡ my sick little freak Jonathan? The original perv? Bear. Just something that lays there all pretty and soft, let's him take pictures!! His fav are when you're lying in the sun and he pulls your underwear to the side to see your pussy <3

♡ what if hybrid! boy/girlfriend !!!!!!

♡ AAAA WOLF EDDIE AND BUNNY READER IM GAGGING CHOKING NOT BREATHING, him wearing a muzzle!!! Spikey collar that leaves scratches in my thighs

♡ wolf steve and puppy reader 👁👁 wants to get you full of pups, all hairy and warm treats you so well<3 hunts you the biggest deer he can find just so he can prove how much of a good mate he is

♡ bear hopper x bunny reader <3<3 so big and warm so strong and smart he has to protect his little dumb cocksleeve, let's you have all the blankets for your nest!!! Soothes you when you cry because hes so big and doesnt fit in it :(( but its okay because he likes being pressed against you so tightly

♡ bull billy and cow reader !!! Hes so mean at first!! Always huffing and grunting at you making you think he hates you </3 makes all the others bully you because hes the alpha and whatever he says goes until some dumb new bulls start showing interest in HIS shy submissive mate he gets into so many fights!! Hates that they think they can have you >:00 YOURE HIS >:((( sneaks into your separated room (because everyone is so mean and the farmer cant have their pretty little Hefner sad) just so he can mark you as his. would 100% let's you touch his horns, but only you >:((

♡ dont get me started on heats and ruts

♡ breed me so good!!!! I'm going feral possibly even insane

♡ joyce + hopper with puppygirl!!! Makes my heart all gooey and gross, joyce would spoil you so much!!! Give you extra rewards and treats when you behave or when hop is being grumpy and strict! Definitely would stuff you with toys and make you lick them clean

♡ step dad! hopper digging out a bullet vibrator from his bimbo Step daughter after she gets it stuck inside her because shes so dumb </3

♡ brothers bestfriend/dealer! Eddie corrupting naive! Innocent! Virgin! Reader, him waiting for your roommate to arrive and he gets to know you so well

♡ scumbag! Stepbrother! Jonathan x innocent! Reader. making you sit on his lap, he blows smoke into your face all the time :((((( makes your eyes tear up and forget about his boner that hes rocking against your clothed cunt!! Dont get me started on his Best friend  perv! Argyle who is soooo nice to you but only so he can feel you up close against him

♡ theres a belt that has a lighter attached to it omg imagine eddie using it to light the blunt in your mouth omfg I'm going insane right now

♡ mean! eddie making his artist! Girlfriend draw porn only so he can cum on it and ruin it :(((

♡ being the new secretary at the police station and befriending hopper through your husband. Staying late one night, you and hop start talking which leads to you complaining to him about struggling to have a baby and how you're so worried that you may not be able too, he assures you that theres nothing wrong and even offers to help, your husband is oblivious when you become pregnant, he doesnt even bat an eye when the baby comes out huge (giant genes jim hopper ♡♡)

♡ argyle becoming a masseuse and getting a bit too handsy with his favourite client <3<3 his hands are amazing with pizza dough they would be amazing with my ass <3

♡ would I let Vecna absolutely destroy me? Yes I'm not a coward, I want his claws to make my hips bleed is that too much to ask? "BuT nYmPH hES UgLy aND scARY" and I'm horny so what

♡ you know those baby dolls that you have to take care of for like a week? Imagine being forced to take care of one with whoever, unfortunately it unlocks their breeding kink and they cant get the thought of you and their baby out of their head so it's only natural for them to stuff you full

♡ serial killer! eddie escaping from prison and hiding in your house!! Somehow convincing him to let you live by saying you'll cook him meals and clean him up, he forces you to be his housewife until you're no longer useful to him but once he gets his cock in your sweet tiny little hole he cant stand the thought of you being harmed. When the cops arrive to search your house he takes you with him because he cant just leave his personal fleshlight behind

♡ argyle fucking the new delivery girl, he drives you to the houses because there were too many complaints about him being high </3 but that's okay because your cute little face gets extra tips and he doesnt mind staying in the car especially when your skirt flips up as you climb off the seat. Would let you ride him after you come to the car all teary eyed after you get yelled at by a mean customer who wanted a new pizza

♡ perv! Robin, nancy and chrissy convincing innocent! Reader to try on new clothes infront of them, they assure you that you dont need to change in the bathroom because "they're all girls" they grope you claiming that they're "just making sure it fits right" they then make you try on some underwear that would look sooo cute on you. You think nothing of it until you're stood infront if them and you feel vibrations coming from the fabric pressing directly to your clit, but dont worry chrissy makes sure to catch you as your legs struggle to hold yourself up plus shes holding your hands <3<3 and robin is being so sweet and 'fixing you bra' while telling you how pretty you are, nancy is the sweetest however as she reaches down to help you with false concern, rubbing your clit "trying to make it stop"

♡ hopper x fairy! Nymph esc! Reader !!! He finds you in the forest and takes you back to his cabin because a little thing like you shoudlnt be out here all alone >:((  You're so curious of this big strong creature that took you with them that you follow them around like a puppy, so he shouldnt have been so shocked when you wondered into the bathroom and watched him while he showered, as much as he tried to shoo you away it was hopeless which is why he invited you to join him. Definitely not a ploy to see you naked

♡ want 001 to gaslight me while his cock tears me in two!! "It doesn't hurt that bad, you were made to hold my children how can you give birth if you cant take my cock?"

♡ steve x bimbo reader <3 he thinks you're so dumb and hes looking at you in shock most of the time because how can anyone be that stupid? But he doesnt mind because you're his housewife and he loves that you make him feel all gooey inside, you cook him meals and bake him desserts you're so good with the kids and dustin adores with his moms new girlfriend. When you come home from babysitting with eyes watering about how you have "baby fever" and how you "cant wait to have a baby of your own" he obviously takes the opportunity to help you, he cant have his favourite girl sad now

♡ joyce and karen getting wine drink with reader, they all start talking about how awful their husbands are in bed (let's pretend hopper isnt with joyce ♡) and how they're never satisfied luckily you've bought some new sex toys and because you're so generous you cant help but share with your best friends

♡ 001 being in charge of you at the facility means he watches you do everything, sleep, eat, shower, exist, all of it. Hes all you've ever known and it feels so natural for you to come to him about the ache between your legs

♡ the way I would suck the soul out of this man

♡ dark! Reader being absolutely infatuated with mr Phil Callahan after you gets arrested at a house party, you're always getting In trouble just so you can see him not even hoppers huge cock can make you behave, you want HIM. Thankfully callahan is a good man, a good citizen who would do anything to help someone in need, so when your bent over begging him to fuck you he cant refuse, he doesnt question how you got into his house or how you knew where he lived. Your pussy is worth it <3

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #enzo x reader #murray bauman x reader #phil callahan x reader #karen wheeler x reader #joyce byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader #argyle x reader #001 x reader #chrissy Cunningham x reader #robin Buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #Henry creel x reader

[sleep-paralysis-buddy]

Want

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: smut, age gap, size kink slightly, praise, foul language, Jim being fucking oblivious.

Hoppers old.

Or getting there at least.

And he knows it.

   But somehow you're still here in his bed, your youthful cheek squished against his chest, your arm thrown around his middle that he knows isn't as toned as it used to be. 'A Dad bod,' you'd called it. Said it was hot. He'd just rolled his eyes, giving your ass a playful swat.

   You'd met when you began secretary work at the police station. It was a long, pining heavy minute before he ever approached you romantically. You'd flirted with him, or tried, but he couldn't possibly fathom someone as young and vibrant as you wanting him. He'd tried to avoid you, despite working so closely together. That all changed one night when he had to stay late to do paperwork, and you'd volunteered to stay behind to help. He'd tried insisting you go home, telling you he'd take care of it, saying you should get some rest. But you'd stayed, helpfully pointing out that it'd go twice as fast with 2 people.

   So there he was, 1am with the prettiest girl to give him any attention in a long time, your thigh bumping his under the table. He crosses his legs. Partially to put space between the two of you, partially to hide the growing tent at the front of his pants.

The view you'd given him wasn't helping. The white button down you wore was slightly undone at top, unbuttoned in you're frustration, allowing him a view of your breasts swelling past the top of your bra everytime you bent to retrieve your dropped pen.

   You're barely through half the stack of reports and files when you suddenly stand and lean across him, your hair in his face, your chest brushing his arm.

   'Sorry Cheif, just looking for the notes that go with this case,' you explained, flipping through the stack. He let out an involuntary groan, the scent of your shampoo flooding his senses, his cock straining painfully against his pants. If you heard, you never let on, finding the folder you were looking for and sitting back down. Looking back now, the memory makes him chuckle, wondering how he'd been so oblivious to your advances.

   'I'm gonna..ima run to my office quick,' he said, standing and turning quickly, 'left some notes somewhere in my desk. Might be a minute.'

   'O-oh! Take your time!' You told him, but you looked-and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him-disappointed? He shook his head as he hurried off to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him, fumbling with his belt, desperate for some relief from the pressure. He fell back into his chair, giving his throbbing cock a couple long pumps.

   'Fuuuck,' he breathed, precum leaking out of the angry red tip and onto his fingers. He used it to glide his hand over himself with ease, moaning as he imagined it was your spit, your pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head up and down, those big innocent eyes staring into his. Your name tumbles from his mouth, sweet on his tongue.

   Just as he felt his release rising in him, there was a knock on the door.

His door.

That he forgot to lock.

    There was no time to stuff himself back into his pants before you're opening the door and peaking your head in, so he just spun his chair to face front, hiding his lap under his desk.

   'Hop? Everything good? You find those papers?' You asked, knitting your eyebrows together, making him want to kiss the bump that formed between them.

   'Oh, yea, no, sorry,' he said a little too quickly, 'I uh, I think Flow might have had them last, but she keeps her desk locked at night. No big deal.' He shrugged, wishing you'd take his explanation and leave. He was still exposed under his desk, twitching, his release still sitting on the brink.

   Instead of leaving, you stride into the room, shutting the door behind you, 'maybe they're still in here. Here, lemme che-,' you'd walked around the edge of his desk and he'd nearly jumped to stop you.

   'No! That's REALLY ok, it doesn't matt-,' he didn't speak quickly enough, watching in horror as you shut the drawer open next him, finally exposing his dirty secret to yourself. He braced himself, ready for you to scream, ready for you to call him a dirty old man, a pig, ready for the profanities to spill like venom from the mouth he'd wished so many times to kiss.

   But it never came. You just stood there, your mouth open in a small O shape, your clear and intelligent eyes wide.

   'I'm so sorry,' he breathed, and moved to pull his pants back up, his face cherry red, 'God, I'm sorry, please-' you stopped him in his tracks, resting your small, soft hand on one of his large calloused ones. You bit your lip and looked up through your lashes at him, and he swears he's never wanted anyone or anything like he did in that moment.

   'I thought- thought you-,' you spoke softly, fumbling over your words, and then you whispered 'I thought you didn't want me.'

   He pulled you forward by your waist at this, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing out shakily, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted...' He trailed off, brushing his hands lightly over both sides of your face, like you're delicate and precious, like he could break you if he touched you too hard.

He wanted to break you.

   'Can- can I?' He looked at your lips as he asked his half question. He didn't need to finish. You knew what he meant because you wanted the same thing. You nodded slowly and bit your lip again. He threw  his head back and whispered a curse under his breath, and sighed, 'let me do that for you.'

   He kissed you softly at first, his pointer finger and thumb tilting your head by your chin. And then he got hungrier, greedier. He kissed you like you were fresh air and he was a man drowning, his fingers digging so hard into your sides that you could imagine his fingerprints bruising onto your skin, his teeth nipping the soft flesh. He kissed down your jaw and neck, his stubble scratching and tickling your skin in just the right way, and you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He pulled you down onto his thigh, one leg on each side of his, the pressure and friction on your clit making you dizzy.

   'So damn beautiful,' he said it against your skin, like it pained him, and it did. In his mind, this was a fluke. There was no way you'd want him more than once. Sex with an older man, that's all it was. Just a taboo to you.

   So when you ran your hands down his chest and sang his praises, he thought he was going to melt right then and there.

   He put his hands on your hips and began guiding you on his thigh, relishing the way your eyes flit back into your head. 'Yeah sweet girl? Feel good? Come on, ride my thigh, get yourself nice and wet for me. That's a good girl' he growled the last part, ripping open your shirt, the snap buttons coming open with a loud CLACK. He bent his head and softly kissed your chest, sucking and leaving hickeys anywhere that wasn't covered by your bra.

   As if reading his mind, you reached around and undid the clasp, letting both your shirt and your bra fall off your shoulders. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked at you. The moonlight from the window behind him illuminating your skin, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you ground yourself onto him. The need to be close to you was settled in his very bones, every fiber of his being wanted you like an addict wants a drug.

   He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to sit you on the desk and bury his face between the pillowy thighs he so often found himself daydreaming about. Wanted to see you bruising your knees for him, your eyes glassy while he hits the back of your throat. But all that could wait. He needed you too badly to take his time, to worship your body like the alter it was to him.

   'Want me pumpkin? Hm? Need me to stretch you out good? Make you feel full?' He purred, brushing the hair from your face. You could hardly answer, your mind already so scrambled for him, babbling your pleas and cries.

   He lifted you by your thighs, his hands finding home on your ass under your skirt as he held you above him, ready to lower you down onto him. He couldn't believe his luck as he watched you in wonder, his head falling forwards and into the crook your neck as you lowered yourself onto him, your tightness wrapping around him, ripping a loud, full moan from his throat. He helped you bounce, keeping you upright as you fucked yourself onto him, kissing him hard and deliberately.

   'Jus' like that honey. Fuck, you're so good. Wanted you for so long. Drive me absolutely insane,' you felt him say against your lips. He hugged you tight to him, one hand cradling the back of your head, and bucked his hips up into yours, holding you and cooing sweet praises as he used you, just like he always wanted to. The amount of times he'd imagined this exact scenario at night, when the only one to keep him company was his hand, was uncountable.

   He could feel his orgasam rising again already, and he would have been disappointed in himself if he couldn't feel you reaching your own breaking point.

   'Gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum for your Police Cheif like a good little whore?' Oh, he was loving this. 'Where do you want it baby? Where do you want me to cum? All over that pretty face? On those perfect tits of yours?'

   You're were panting, your face pressed to his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

   'Jim- I,' you stumbled over your words, moaning as he hit your sweet spot over and over again, 'pill. Have the pill.'

   His head spun, 'yea? Want me to fill you up with my cum? I wanna see it leaking all over those perfect fucking thighs of yours, oh FU-' he almost loses himself to his own words, hips slamming messily against your ass.

   'Cum for me princess. That's it, be a good girl, scream it for me.'

   And you did, your release white hot. You pulled down the collar of his shirt, biting his shoulder, leaving teeth marks he was still admiring in the mirror the next day.

   He followed you closely, shooting thick, hot ropes inside of you, moaning and cursing, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you shook against him.

   'Did so good f'me honey. Made me cum so hard. God,'  he buried his face in your neck and breathed in, high off the scent of you and him mixed together.

  

Now, as you stir against him, whining softly in your sleep when he kisses your forehead because he just can't help himself, he smiles softly.

   He might be old, but damn do you love him. And if a few gray hairs don't bother you, then he can keep coping with it.

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #hopper #hopper stranger things #hopper x reader #hopper smut #jim hopper x reader smut #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper x afab!reader #jim hopper smut #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things smut #strangers things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[luveline]

jadey - HONEY - listenlistenlisten, so I feel like you said you'd write for hopper?? but if not (because he's not on the official list) please ignore this request! BUT would you be able to write something about hopper visiting reader in the hospital after she was almost posessed by vecna?? whether this is still early stages of relationship or already established, you pick, gorgeous!! (also ik this means no hopper/joyce but personally I prefer hopper/me??) xoxoxo BIG SMOOCHES

ty for your request, love u! ♡

Nobody would ever believe you, but you know it's Hopper from the smell. You've missed him for months, and though the scent of him wore away from his sweatshirt before you thought you had time to memorise it, you know without opening your eyes that it's him sitting beside you. 

Your heart monitor beeps loud and erratic. 

"Don't," he says quietly. "Don't freak out." 

It won't listen to him, how could it? Not even the oily fog of painkillers can dull the reality of him being here, right here, this close. 

"You're supposed to be dead," you croak, peeling your eyes open achingly slowly. 

"Aren't you a little old for teen angst?" he asks. 

He's real. He's real, you're exhausted, you almost died, but he's alive. Tears well in your eyes of their own accord, not a lick of choice in it as Hopper takes your arm into his hand. 

"You look sick," you say tearily. 

"Nice. You look worse."  

"Where's your," —you gesture to his body— "everything?" 

He's lost a dramatic amount of weight, hollows sunk under his eyes. He grins despite your insult and leans back in his chair, hand sliding down toward yours, fingers pushing between your knuckles to twine them together firmly. "Russian weight loss program. Like it?" 

You're honestly not sure. Maybe when the shock has worn off you'll feel strongly either way, but right now it's his obvious alive-ness that takes centre focus. 

"I missed you," you say. You've not even a syllable into 'missed' when your voice disappears, the agony of your admission knocking the air from your lungs in one callous blow. "I missed you so much." 

He squeezes your hand. "I know. I'm sorry." 

You start to sit. Hopper stands and slips his hands behind your shoulders, helping you up with a tenderness you've dreamt about every night since he disappeared. There was no time to define what you were to one another, all these months you've been grieving a maybe, but you know the connection you had was more than real when he reaches down the millisecond you reach up. His lips smashed to your forehead and his big hands spread and searching like he's trying to stop you from falling away from him, you splutter as the air is knocked from your chest again. 

"Sorry I wasn't here to look after you," he says.

He hugs you for so long you figure you must be dreaming. There's a familiarity to his embrace even if the feel of him has changed, security with a little less padding. "What happened to you?" you ask hesitantly. 

"What happened to me? You just had something– someone in your head. You almost broke your neck, you could've died." 

"I'm lucky. I am. It could've been worse." It was worse for others. Your voice wobbles embarrassingly. It doesn't put Hopper off. You used to worry that being younger than him would make you too different; you aren't a kid but you haven't lived a life as agonisingly detailed as he has. You're scared there won't be room in his head for your weight, too, but there always is. "You're back," you say, relieved.

"I'm back." 

You breathe out. 

"Let me see you," he demands, drawing away to check you over. 

Your skin is clammy and has been for days, you weren't sleeping —sleeping meant dreaming. Hearing the toll. You've chased sleep with coffee and caffeine pills and bad TV, each day going a little more insane with wanting Hopper back. There were moments when you knew for sure he was dead, and moments you hated yourself for entertaining the idea. Whatever you deserved, he's here, wiping your sleep crusted eyes with a careful thumb. 

"Well, you're still a sight for sore eyes." 

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing until you cough. "I look good in the gown, right?" 

"Better out of it," he suggests, kissing the top of your head. He lingers there too long. You can read his mind for that single moment. 

He's not happy with himself for letting you face it alone. Which begs the question. What kept him away?

"Hop, where have you been?" you ask gently. 

"I'll tell you everything after you eat something." 

"Me?" 

"I almost forgot how rude you are," he says, rubbing your cheek fondly. "Shit. Like I could forget a thing about you." 

You take his hand from your face to clear a path. "That's romantic. Hit your head while you were gone?" He nods, hangs his head, lets you cover the back of it with your hands. You pull him forward, searching for hair he doesn't have. "What did they do to you?" you murmur sadly. 

"Don't say that. The neck up is as good as it gets." 

"I don't believe that for a second," you say, though you worry about what he means. "You better go find me something to eat. I want to know everything that's happened." 

"Got a waiting room full of people who aren't gonna like that," he says, lifting his head.

"I really, truly don't care," you say, still so softly. "I've been waiting to see you again for a long time. They can… they can walk a mile in my shoes." 

"Whatever you want." Hopper clasps your elbow. "Anything you want." 

#hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x fem!reader #dad!jim hopper #dad!jim hopper x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fandom #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper fluff

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 | dark!jim hopper x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | smoking with eddie was supposed to help you relax... instead, it forced you to decide how far you're willing to go to keep your record clean.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 ��𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | dubcon/noncon smut (oral m receiving and creampie), slight innocence kink, significant age gap, semi-public sex, kinda mean hopper, handcuffs, coercion, bargaining, abuse of power, very slight/ambiguous eddie x reader if you squint, thicc pre-season 4 hopper the way god intended, slight angst

Eddie did have a tendency to get a little paranoid during a smoke session— a side effect of the product— but maybe you should’ve listened to him this time.

“Do you hear that?” he hissed as you handed the rolled paper back to him.  “Dude, there’s someone out there!"

“Who would be in the woods, this far from town, this late at night?” you rolled your eyes.

Well, the answer to that question is two-fold: stoners, and someone who’s looking for them.

A flashlight suddenly appeared from the trees, and your eyes went wide.

"Shit!" Eddie yelped, jumping up and tossing the joint— even though it was quite too late for that— and starting to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for somewhere to go.  But he couldn't exactly hide behind a tree, because this wasn't a cartoon, and getting back in the car wouldn't really get him anywhere.

So, he ended up basically circling the van and slamming directly into Chief Hopper who looked even more pissed than he had when you first spotted him.

"Uh, hey— funny running into you here, Mr. Chief, sir," Eddie joked as you sighed in disappointment and irritation at his idiocy.

"Get back over there, dummy," Hopper groaned as he shoved Eddie aside, tossing the guy into you— you would've both fallen over if you hadn't basically caught him, and your friend looked pretty disoriented by the whole thing.  

The chief flicked off his flashlight; it wasn’t actually really necessary, with how bright the moon was tonight, but your eyes had to adjust to the dark all over again.

"Two kids smokin' dope in the woods," Hopper observed.  "Munson, this is far from our first conversation— but you—"

He ran his gaze over you as you leaned back against the back of the van, and you felt conflicted about your body's response to his sizing-up.

"I expected better from you."

He reached for the cuffs at his belt, quickly grabbing Eddie by the elbow and turning him around with an unceremonious thud against the van.

"H-hey, not so rough," Eddie chuckled thinly, "it's my first time."

You rolled your eyes; did he always have to make stupid jokes like that?  "It is most certainly not, Munson," Hopper returned firmly.  "And I'm sure the judge will take that into account before he goes easy on you again.  You might wanna practice that 'not so rough' line again before you end up in jail, kid."

Eddie winced, and not from the tightness of the cuffs.  He was finally taking this seriously— finally realizing he was looking at more than community service or a fine this time.  

Hopper stepped up to you next, but you didn't put up nearly as much of a fight— and he was more gentle with you, far more… he even seemed to linger for a moment as he held your wrist.

It was incredibly subtle, but it was all it took for you to know you had a chance.  A chance you were just desperate enough to take.

"Why?" you asked suddenly, heart already racing.

"Hm?"

"Why did you expect better from me?"

There was a silent moment as Hopper considered that question, and Eddie gave you a confused look.

"I heard you were a good girl," Hopper eventually answered.

You smirked a bit, turning around to face the chief with a feigned look of confidence.  "Well, you heard wrong."

"V'never heard of you gettin' in this much trouble before," he replied.  "Not with the law, at least."

"That's ‘cause I don't do bad things to get into trouble, sir," you added pointedly, looking up at him and seeing the look in his eyes change a bit.  "I do bad things to get out of trouble."

You didn't really notice him getting closer until you felt it— felt that gap close as his body brushed against yours, and fuck he was tall 'cause you had to crane your neck all the way back to keep your eyes on his face (though they did briefly dart down to the badge on his chest).

"You know, I never saw you smoke," he noticed, voice lowering.  "Maybe you were just an innocent bystander.  You kinda have that look about you— innocent…"

He ran his finger over your jaw, until he was lifting your chin a little too forcefully.

"I like that," he added.

Your stomach dropped, but you couldn't back away— he had you pressed up against the van, every part of you was at his mercy now, even your freedom.

"Don't fucking touch her, pig," Eddie growled.

"Eddie, shut up," you snapped at him, not wanting him to dig the hole any deeper— or blow your chances of getting him out of it.

“Why don’t you get in the van and mind your own business, son,” Hopper encouraged, stepping away from you to hold up the key for Eddie’s cuff’s teasingly.  “Think you can do that?”

Eddie sneered at first, looking away.  “Ed, please,” you said, a little softer, and he sighed.  Hopper approached Eddie, who looked like he was barely containing his rage and disgust, as the chief unlocked his cuffs less than a minute after he’d put them on.

“Old creep…” Eddie muttered under his breath when he was freed, rubbing his wrists nervously, before he looked at you.  “Are you seriously gonna—?”

"Eddie," you said sternly.  "Get. in. the van."

He groaned but obeyed, walking past you both with a grimace, hopping up in the driver's seat and shutting the door behind him.

"That your boyfriend?" Hopper asked when you were (sort of) alone.

You sighed.  "Just a friend," you insisted.

"Hm," he replied, smirking a little.  "Bet he wants you."

"What makes you think that?"

"'Cause who wouldn't?" he purred.  "Body like this…"

You shivered as his hand ran down your back, slowing down as it slid over the curve of your ass.

"A boy that age would have no idea what to do around a body like yours, honey," Hopper added, humming as he brought his hand back up.  "Need a real man to take care of all this."

"Didn't think this was about you taking care of me, Hop," you returned, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at him with his lip between his teeth.  "Thought it was about working my way out of these cuffs."

He grinned at you, though it wasn't exactly a friendly smile.  "No, baby— the cuffs are staying on."

As he pulled you into him, you felt a firm bulge rub against your hip; you gasped a little, fighting the urge to pull away, and tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss your neck.  "Eddie, too," you whispered.  "If we do this, no charges for Eddie."

Hopper grunted disapprovingly, but you looked up with him with your best ‘please, Daddy’ eyes and bit your lip slightly.  It wasn't quite enough for him, though.  "What's in it for me if I get your friend off?"

"Whatever you want," you blurted out before you really considered what that might entail— you just couldn't let Eddie go to jail.

He purred and grabbed your ass tighter.  "You drive a hard bargain, honey.  But I can't promise anything until you show me what you can do."

Figuring what that likely meant, you slid down until you were on your knees, keeping your eyes up— on him.  It would’ve been harder to keep your balance with your hands behind your back if it weren’t for the van’s bumper right behind you to lean on.  “Y’gonna get it out for me?” you asked him expectantly, and he smirked at you a bit as he reached for his belt.  

There was something about the way he sighed as he did it, about the way he had to reach under his thick belly to do this, about the way his heavy belt clinked as he opened it… you told yourself this was just about the bargain, but you knew there was more to it than that, on some level.

His cock was only half-hard when he pulled it out of his jeans, but already so thick— you were salivating already, but pretty fucking nervous, too.  It was pretty overwhelming to be confronted with what you were about to do in such an obvious way: it all gets a lot more real when there’s a big fucking cock in your face.

Not wanting to make him wait anymore, you leaned forward and took the tip into your mouth, coating it in your spit as you suckled gently… at first.

He hummed a little— you honestly barely heard it— and stiffened a bit more in your mouth.  Soon enough, it was so big that you had to keep your jaw open wide to fit it, and soreness was already starting to set in.  

When you shut your eyes, it was a little easier; you were a little more confident, and you tightened your hands into fists behind your back to stop them from shaking.  Leaning forward more, you took him deeper until his belly bumped against your forehead.  Why did that make your thighs clench together?

His fingers combed over your hair, not quite guiding your head yet but certainly encouraging you to go on.  "Yeah, fuck, that's good— that's really fucking good, keep sucking, baby…" he mumbled, voice thick and sweet like syrup.  The deeper you took him, the more talkative he got; and when you took him all the way to the base, with your nose buried in a patch of curly hair, he moaned louder than ever.

"Shit," he hissed, grabbing the back of your head when you tried to pull away.  "N-no, stay down, need to feel that throat a little longer, fuuuuck…"

You fought harder to pull back, getting dizzy as your coughs and sputters did nothing to give you air.  Only when tears ran down your cheeks and spots filled your vision did he let go, giving you a chance to break away and gasp for air.

He was chuckling lowly as you coughed, smiling down at you proudly even though you weren't much of a sight right now— face swollen and wet with tears, red eyes (even worse than before), on your knees in the leaves and dirt…

"Stand up," he ordered, and you gave him a confused look as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Huh?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Don't you wanna finish?"

He smiled wider.  "That's cute— you were gonna swallow it, too, right?  And you thought that would be enough?"

You started to feel particularly stupid as he yanked you up to your feet.  There was a long, tense silence as he started touching you again— running his hands slowly over your waist, your neck, your hips… 

He started to slowly push your shirt up, but his eyes stayed trained on your face; you must have looked, for once, as nervous as you felt.

He hummed a little as he got your shirt high enough and tugged your bra down; your nipples hardened right away from the chilly breeze, and he toyed with them for a second with his thumbs before groping your chest more confidently with his whole hands— god, they were big, and strong, just like the rest of him.

After unbuttoning your jeans for you, he turned you around quickly and pressed himself against your backside with a purr, slipping a hand down the front of your pants and into your panties.  “Mm,” he emphasized, cupping you and holding you tightly; still cuffed, the position made your hands grab onto his thighs through his pants.

He groaned as his fingers slid between your lips, and you let out a quiet whimper of your own.  

"Oh, fuck— look how wet you are, sweetie," he cooed beside your ear, starting to rub circles around your clit a bit too roughly.  "You like sucking cock in the woods?  Or is it the cuffs?"

You only whimpered a little as he held you tighter.

"Or," he continued, speaking even closer to your ear until his mustache tickled your skin, "is it whoring yourself for a man twice your age?  Is that what gets you off, honey?"

He didn't wait too long for you to answer— he must've known you weren't going to— before he pulled his hand out of your pants and yanked the denim down.  You felt cold and weird and stupid with your bare ass out in the woods; you swallowed down a lump in your throat when you heard Hop shoving his pants lower, too.  "Do you have a condom?" you asked shakily.

"You think I bring condoms on patrol?  What kind of cop do you think I am?"

My pants are around my thighs, Hop, I don't think you're exactly clean…

"No, baby, we don't need one anyways," he decided, rubbing his head around your flexing hole with a sigh.  "God, it's so wet…"

That was his last warning, if you can call it that, before pushing inside; and you accidentally grabbed onto his shirt when your fingers made fists, the sting of pain making your toes curl inside your shoes, too.  You bit your lip so you wouldn’t be too loud, though… you remembered, for a second, that Eddie would hear if you weren’t careful.  That made guilt churn your stomach even more than the Chief’s hand coming down to spank your ass all of a sudden.

“Damn, s’tight,” he chuckled darkly, groaning as he picked up his pace and held your hips steady.  “Sweet fuckin’ pussy… y’like it, sweetie, y’like being fucked?”

Swallowing, you nodded.  “Y-yeah,” you panted softly.

“Louder, honey.”

“Yeah, I like it,” you replied, a little more confident but not exactly ready to shout it out, either.  “Feels good…"

"Bet you wanna cream all over me, huh, baby?"

Well, that would certainly make this more enjoyable— but you didn't need to, really; the pain of the stretch had finally faded and honestly, you were surprised it happened so quickly.  With how thick he was, you were prepared to struggle longer, but if anything your body was giving in, encouraging him, making your back arch deeper and your walls pulse whenever he filled you to the brim.

His hands reached around to cup your tits, and he moaned louder as he felt you up while he fucked you.  When his fingers tweaked your nipples— not too hard, but still a startle— you tensed up inside; and he noticed.  “Oh, they’re sensitive, hm?  Sweet girl…”

Of course, he just did it repeatedly, and more aggressively, until your legs were shaking and you let out a pathetic whine.  “Chief, c’mon…” you pleaded nervously.

“Chief?  Don’t need to be so formal, honey,” he laughed, leaning in a little closer.  “Just call me Jim, okay?”

You really didn’t wanna do that, and you were having a hard time getting much of anything out now anyways: he’d started fucking you harder, deeper, a lot faster… your head was spinning.  At first you’d really just wanted to get this over with, but right now, you never wanted it to stop.  It was so difficult to keep your thoughts straight, you almost told him that, before noticing what a stupid thing that would be to say—

“Fuck, are you close?” he taunted.

“Don’t stop!” you blurted out.  “Please don’t stop, fuck…”

He chuckled proudly, and yep, it was just as stupid a thing to say as you thought it would be; he sounded way too cocky now, and even the way he moved his hips seemed to be more… gloating, than before, if that’s possible.  “Little slut,” he spat, though the insult sounded just as much like a compliment.

“Fuck,” you whispered again.

“I get it, y’know— you’re young and you need a little rebellion,” he said, and in your current state it really didn’t make any sense.  “But reefer’s not worth the trouble.  Why don’t you just let me fuck you when you’re feeling naughty?”

Right now, that didn’t seem like too bad of an idea; you already got the sense this may not be the last time this happened, even if he didn’t catch you smoking pot again.  That feeling was already swelling up inside you, and your throat was dry from breathing heavily— and nearly sore from moaning, even though you’d been trying to fight it.  Your eyes kept rolling back in your head even when they were shut, which they usually were until he brushed your hair aside with his hand and told you to look back at him.

And damn, he was a sight: that look in his eyes was unforgettable, the strain on his face as he drove himself into you over and over.  The curve of his cock stretched you in a way you’d never really felt before, his grip on you was so aggressive and his pace was overwhelming.  He was right, it turns out, when he said that thing before about Eddie and how you needed a ‘real man’ instead.  You protested to that term, but compared to guys your age, this was entirely different— and better.  And supremely fucked up.  And the best dirty deal you’d ever made.

“I-I’m close,” you finally admitted.

“I know,” he mumbled, “go ahead, baby— just come for me.”

It was the way he said it that shook you so much, unexpectedly gentle after so much gruff mocking; it still took you a few more minutes, but you ended up obeying his command pretty easily.

He felt it when you came, groaning through a smile and praising you in a low voice.  You could even hear it, the sticky sound as your cunt soaked him, and he snarled as he looked down at it— he grabbed your ass and pulled it out of the way so he could watch his cock fill your hole.  “God, that’s perfect,” he announced, “you’re so fucking cute.”

Not really the adjective I was expecting after I came on your dick, but I guess I’ll take it.

“Wanna make you do it again,” he admitted, making you swallow nervously, “but we don’t have much more time… and I’m so goddamn close, fuck, you’re just so tight, honey…”

You whimpered and bit your lip, your post-orgasm haze working overtime to keep your shame at bay— but the clarity was due any second now, and it was hard to ignore who this was when he kept moaning louder and louder, sighing your name, touching you and running his hand down your back and promising to fill you with his load—

Wait, he’s gonna do what?

"Pull out," you whimpered.  "Fuck— pull out…"

He only held on tighter to your hips, driving into you deeper as his head fell back in a grunt.

"Hop, pull out!" you yelped, only for a thick, clammy hand to cover your mouth as he bent down behind you— his forehead rested on the back of your shoulder, each hot breath fanning over your skin.

"God, sorry, I'm sorry," he panted, "need this— fuck, so good…"

You struggled harder, but all your strength was useless compared to him holding you there, keeping you exactly how he wanted you.

"Ah, fuck— you don't need to fight it, baby, s'gonna be so good… your pussy's milking me, c'mon, it's what she wants— she wants to be filled up, I can tell.  You want it, baby?  You want me to come?  Fuck I'm so close…"

He grunted a few more times before he suddenly stopped— his hips pressed forward until he couldn’t go possibly any deeper, then even just a little more after that; he held you tight as a tear ran down over his hand on your face.  Relaxing with a heavy exhale, his grip loosened on you slightly but you were far too weak to fight it now, so you just stayed there: bent over, still crying slightly, with a panting and heavy man just behind you (and inside you) catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he said again, pulling out quickly and letting you go; you didn’t realize how weak your legs were until you had to hold onto the van to stay up, awkwardly lowering your bare, sore bottom onto the small lip of the back bumper so you wouldn’t just fall to the ground.

You were pretty out of it for a minute; the smell of cigarette smoke brought you back to reality, and you looked at Hopper, having a smoke as he looked out into the woods.  He caught you staring, and raised an eyebrow.  “Y’want one?” he offered, and you nodded.  

Fishing the pack out of his pocket, he shook out a cigarette for you, holding it for you to lean forward and capture with your lips.  After lighting it for you, he watched you take a long drag and sigh.

“I’ll take you out of the cuffs in a minute,” he promised, but you’d already kind of forgotten about them.

He did, though; help you out of them, that is, and you were able to get your clothes back in order on your own after that.  You wondered if you should say something, or if he should.  What was there to say?  Thanks for the bribe?  Nice cock?  Pleasure doing business with you?

So, he didn’t say anything, and neither did you.  Until just as he was starting to walk away, and you noticed his flashlight had fallen from his belt onto the ground. 

“Wait,” you said, leaning down to grab it, and when you stood up to hand it back to him, you saw something strange in his expression.  You wondered, for a second, if he’d been hoping for more when you said that.  “You dropped this.”

He took the flashlight and nodded at you.  “Thanks,” he said, and you took the last drag of your lended cigarette as you nodded; watching him leave, you dropped the butt to the ground and snuffed it out with your shoe.

For some reason, you waited a little longer after he left to get back in the van’s passenger side.  Eddie didn’t look at you when you got in, and you didn’t say anything; he just started the van silently and began the drive back to the trailer park.  You were halfway there when you decided you should let him know, “you’re not going to jail.”

“I know,” he replied.

#jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #dark!hopper smut #jim hopper dark fic #stranger things reader insert #stranger things smut

[flamehairedwritings]

Do Not Touch

Characters: Jim Hopper x Female Reader 

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 10k

A/N: My take on your friend and mine: sex-pollen! I started writing this two years ago, isn’t that wild.

Tags: s3 Hop’, dub-con because of sex-pollen, fuck or die situation, Hopper being a huge dick at first, swearing, masturbation, dirty talk, thigh-riding, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, doggy-style, creampies, hand on neck/throat but no choking, gentle-mdom Hop’, more submissive reader, slight praise kink, slight cum play.

Summary: A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites.

—

“... fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“They’re tapping your phones, Jim, how can you not see it?”

“‘cause it’s not fuckin’ true.”

“Oh, right, so...”

As Murray sets off on another rant, you raise your eyes to the heavens, or rather the dirty, damp ceiling, and tip your head back against the wall, exhaling a long, long breath.

You knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Not impossible, but not easy.

And even Hopper had known Murray was your only hope with this kind of thing.

This kind of thing being that neither of you speak Russian and Murray does.

You’d heard the message over the Hawkins Police Radio two days ago while you and Hop were working late in his office. He’d been adjusting the frequency, fiddling, more like, when the voice had suddenly come through, delivering a short message. You’d both stared at each other, then it had come through again. You’d realised it was the same passage and had quickly grabbed a pen, repeating it to yourself as you wrote it down phonetically on your notepad.

Neither of you had known what to do, so you’d just carried on with your evening, working on your new case. But it had weighed heavy on your mind when you’d left; with the strange things that had gone on in Hawkins in the last couple of years, you are suspicious of everything. Hopper apparently had shared your thoughts as, the next morning, he’d called you into his office, shut the door, and asked if you’d kept the note. When you said you had, you’d both then decided that deciphering it would put your minds at ease.

... Except it was really fucking hard because none of the words sounded close to anything you recognised.

Barely ten minutes later, Hopper had shoved his chair back and hissed out curses.

“We’re gonna go and see Murray,” he’d muttered as he’d strode out of the room to get more coffee.

You’d watched him go, irritation prickling at you because everything needed to be done right now with him these days. In the four years you’d known him, he’d never exactly been a very patient man, but this was different. In the last few weeks he was quick to rile, short-tempered, irritable, yelling more often than not, and you were starting to get sick of it.

So maybe it’s a good thing that he can let that all out on Murray now, who can give back as good as he gets, often, actually, better.

Not that you don’t stand up for yourself when Hopper is in one of his new moods and snaps. He never yells at you, he never has, just raises his voice slightly or gets unnecessarily snippy or even borderline patronising, but your usual tactic is to just walk away, leaving him to stew until he comes to you and makes his kind of apology (offering you a hot drink or a pastry), or you try and lighten the mood. That’s just getting tiring now, though. 

And it’s also a huge turn-off.

Yeah, okay, fine, you’ve admitted it to yourself, you’re attracted to him, but it’s a line you don’t like to cross; he’s your boss and your close friend, too, considering everything you’ve both been through with El, Joyce and the kids.

Now, though, you’re not even sure you want to be his friend.

You’ve tried to talk to him, ask him why he’s so God damn angry all the time but he just brushes you off or says he didn’t sleep well. The latter is nothing new, he was a mess when you’d arrived in Hawkins, sleeping for a few hours at a time on his couch in his trailer, but he’d really come into his own since then, especially when he’d had to start taking care of El. The former is new. Living through life or death situations, spending many late nights working together, and the town being small has brought you two closer together, and you’ve confided in him and he in you, so it stings when he brushes you off like you don’t have a history, like you aren’t his friend. Like you don’t matter.

“Do you know what it fuckin’ says or not?” Hopper thunders in the next room, and the patronising edge to his tone has your nose wrinkling.

“Of course I do, you neanderthal, if you give me the fucking piece of paper then I will be able to write it down for you.”

For once, and you never thought that you ever would, you’re on Murray’s side.

There’s the muffled sound of cursing, then a patronising ‘thank you’ from Murray, and then it’s quiet, except for the sound of a chair squeaking as one of them sits down. From the huff, probably Hopper. Folding your arms across your chest, you exhale another breath as you let your gaze travel the room.

It’s exactly how you’d imagine Murray’s place would be. There are... things everywhere, on every surface, some things you don’t even recognise like devices and folders with foreign writing on them, all just strewn around. To your left on a counter there’s even a corked jar marked ‘DO NOT TOUCH’, filled with a russet-coloured liquid, an unfamiliar, what was once probably red, flower head submerged in it. It looks rather like a lily, but there are strange, swirling patterns on the petals that you don’t recognise.

Your attention is diverted by the sound of the chair squeaking again, boots on wood, and then Murray’s voice.

“Ah, ah, ah, what do I get, Chief?” 

“What?”

“What do I get for my services?”

“What do you get? You don’t get a fuckin’ broken nose, you asshole.”

There’s the sound of paper sliding against skin.

“... What the fuck is this?”

“It’s what was written for me, word for word, so unless you got something wrong, then that’s it.”

There’s silence, then the sound of Hopper striding closer to the room you’re in.

“You’re welcome,” Murray calls as Hopper exits the room, and you press your lips together at his thunderous expression.

“Thank you, Murray,” you answer for him, raising your voice a little.

“Ah, you’re welcome.”

Dropping your arms as Hopper nears, you raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“It doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense,” he mutters, thrusting the note towards you.

Taking it from him, you read it, then frown as you read it again.

The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly.

Inhaling a long breath, you shrug and look up at him. “Yeah, that makes no sense to me.”

“Yeah, I thought it wouldn’t.”

You make yourself interpret that in a kind way as you look at him, watching him lean against the counter beside you and take the note from you, shoving it into his pocket.

It’s complicated. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s not making a comment on my intelligence.

Licking your lips, pressing them together for a moment, you open your mouth, then close it... then open it again, your voice low, “Do you think this maybe has something to do with what Joyce was saying about the magnets? And the lab?”

If his expression was thunderous before, it’s just full on pissed off now. His gaze darting up to you, you can see how tight his jaw is.

“We don’t know that.”

“I know we don’t, but it’s a little suspicious—”

“Or it could just be some people communicating via code.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s suspicious, isn’t it—”

“Not necessarily—”

He goes to put a hand on his hip as he huffs out a breath, but his elbow knocks against the jar, pushing it off the ledge, and your eyes widen as your hands dart out in the same moment Hopper’s do. Both of you acting on instinct, it fumbles in both your hands for all but two seconds as you try to catch it, in the process the cork top sliding off and some of the liquid spilling onto your hands and his arms and you’re waiting for it to sting and burn but it doesn’t and then— 

And then it’s falling and smashing on the floor.

You stare at the spreading liquid, the flower resting limply on it before your eyes dart up to meet Hopper’s, your mouth open. His is closed firmly, his hands, like yours, still raised.

“What was that?!” Murray calls, and you hear him approaching, your eyes now darting to the archway.

“Uh, it—”

“Nothin’, bye, Murray.”

Hopper grabs your hand and pulls you towards the front door, shoving it open and leading you out into the fresh air. He releases you and pulls his car keys out of his pocket as you head for the passenger side of the Blazer, both of you swiftly climbing in once he’s opened it. He’s starting the engine and turning the Blazer around before either of your seatbelts are on properly. Good. There’s only so much shit a human being can take from Murray.

Your seatbelt secured, a glance in the wing-mirror shows you the man himself, waving his arms frantically and faintly yelling for you to come back.

Absolutely fucking not.

Whatever it was, you’re sure it’s replaceable. Sure he collects weird things but it was just a flower, how precious could it be?

You hear Hopper blow out a breath as you head back to the main road, both of you relaxing. Leaning your head back, you keep your eyes on the road, letting the riddle swirl in your mind. You’re certain it’s connected to Joyce’s theories; in all the time you’ve been working at the Station you’ve not once heard someone speaking in code over the radio that wasn’t one of your own or kids, and as for Russian? You’d be very surprised if anyone in the little old town of Hawkins spoke it.

You want to broach the subject with him again, but maybe not now when you’re stuck in a hot car with him and only just starting a nearly two hour drive.

Boy, is it hot.

It’s just gone noon and it’s already sweltering. Rolling the window down, you tilt your head towards it, expecting some kind of breeze. There’s a light one, but it does nothing, so you grip the front of your shirt between your thumb and forefinger and waft it, trying to create some air. The way the shirt moves against your skin... every time it touches against it, slides against you with the movement, you’re hyper-aware of it. Maybe it’s just because you’re more aware of your body in general considering how hot you are.

God, it is uncomfortably hot.

You’re about to ask Hop to put the aircon on when he does so, angling a few of the grates towards himself. Glancing at him, you notice a few beads of sweat at his hairline.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?”

“Hm.”

Oh, well, that’s that conversation over.

You give him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he’s probably thinking about the riddle, too, so you return your thoughts to it, repeating it, turning it over and over—

It’s so hot it’s actually quite hard to think. 

Blinking and widening your eyes a little, you say each word of the riddle slowly in your mind, but they just end up being words, and when you try and say it all together again you just end up stopping halfway through, forgetting it momentarily.

Just wait until you’re back, you can have a cool drink, whack the aircon right up and think about it until you go mad.

You angle the grates on your side so one’s sending a cool breeze to your face, the other your body, and then drop your hand into your lap—

Jesus Christ.

Your leg jerks a little, involuntarily, as you register the sensation of your fingers on your clothed inner thigh. You quickly move your hand to your side but even that, your fingers gliding over your leg, makes your stomach muscles tighten.

It had felt good. Far better than it usually did.

You’re just hyper-aware of yourself because of how hot you feel, it’s fine.

You shift a little in your seat and— 

You catch yourself before a sound escapes you.

Fucking hell, that had felt good. So good in fact, your pussy is actually starting to ache.

Usually when you’re turned on, very turned on, the smallest of touches can have you gasping but... Are you turned on? You take a moment to consider it and find... Fuck, you are. Where the fuck has this come from? 

Hopper clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts, glancing at him. He’s sweating a little more and he’s gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles almost white, but that’ll just be the heat, another thing that pisses him off.

You need a distraction from... whatever this is your body has decided to feel.

“Maybe it’s from another town.”

“What?” He says it so sharply, almost like you’ve said something completely ridiculous.

“The message? Maybe it’s from another town and just carried over—”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

Your mouth closes tightly and you return your gaze to the road, staring at it.

Take a breath. He’s in one of his moods. Murray has riled him up. Just let him ride it out... Fuck that, I really need to say something to him about his attitude.

It’s the perfect distraction, planning in your mind what you’re going to say when you get back to Hawkins, coming up with retorts and come-backs to whatever he could say, acting out the conversation in your head and going down every route imaginable. You get so in to it, in fact, that you manage to just about forget how warm you are, and you don’t notice that Hopper is sweating profusely, his hips shifting every few minutes.

—

Your clothes are sticking to every inch of you. Your entire body aches.

What the hell is going on.

You’ve been in the car for a total of thirty minutes now, but it feels like a God damn lifetime. Thinking about arguing with Hop had only gotten you so far; it had channelled some of this weird energy you’re feeling but then suddenly you’d thought about ripping his shirt off and shoving him onto his God damn uncomfortable couch and sitting in his lap while you told him all about how God damn annoying he is.

And then the aches, the bone deep aches, had started.

Fuck, do I have the flu?

You just feel awful. Your elbow rests against the car door, your hand supporting your head, and you stare out of the window, taking slow, deep, steadying breaths. You feel nauseous and your skin is on fire. You’ve tried to keep quiet but you actually think you might be sick, and between throwing up in his car and asking him to pull over, you think the latter will annoy him less.

“Hop’.”

“What?” He doesn’t snap this time, instead he sounds... strained.

“Can we pull over soon? I don’t feel well.”

“Yeah.”

Wow.

Okay.

That hadn’t been so hard. 

His voice is still strained and short, but, again, that could just be the heat. He doesn’t pull over immediately and as you glance up you notice a sign for a motel not too far ahead.

Oh, good.

Ten minutes later, the tyres of the Blazer are screeching as he turns sharply into the parking lot of the motel. You have to grip at the handle of the door as he swings in, parking swiftly and braking hard.

“I’ll get rooms.” The words are said so sharply it’s like they’ve been punched out of him.

God, he really doesn’t want me to throw up in here.

Wait, ‘rooms’? Are we staying for a night? That’d be nice.

You both climb out, and you’re almost dizzy from the action. Hopper’s already striding towards the reception booth and you slowly follow after him, wiping the sweat from your brow. You have to walk with your legs slightly apart because your thighs rubbing together... What the fuck is going on? By the time you reach Hopper he’s already got a key and is turning on his heel, walking back behind you.

“C’mon.”

As he passes you, his elbow brushes against your arm and you both flinch because, fuck, a weird little electric shock thing happens. Except, whereas when that usually happens you only feel it on your skin, this time you feel it all over your body, spreading down and curling somewhere in your lower stomach.

And it felt good.

Beads of sweat run down your arms, back and chest as you follow him up a flight of stairs to the first floor. It takes every ounce of energy you have to get up there, whereas Hopper’s almost running. The door’s open when you finally reach it and he’s got the aircon on high which you’re grateful for. Closing the door behind yourself, you’re about to thank him when you look over at him and you notice that he’s drenched in sweat, just as you are.

He glances up and briefly meets your gaze before he runs a hand through his damp hair, his eyes sweeping the room as he paces, his eyebrows raised.

“Only one room left. Sorry.”

You shake your head, the action just increasing your nausea, as you shrug. “No, it’s okay. It’s not like we need to spend the night. Just... think I need a nap, or something. Feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a short silence in which you sit down on the nearest of the two double beds, your hands on your knees.

“Me, too.”

You look up at him, your brow dipping. “What?”

Hopper gestures at himself before he drops his hand, exhaling a hard breath. “Feel like... feel like I’m gonna be sick, too. Feel so fuckin’ hot, can’t think straight.”

“Yeah, me as well...” Your frown deepens. “Are we both sick?”

“How’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. It came on so suddenly, too, only after we left...”

You meet his gaze as he presses his lips together, following your train of thought.

“That son of a bitch...”

Crossing the room, he grabs the phone from the bedside table and dials Murray’s number. At any other time you would have laughed that he had it memorised. Like they’re pals.

His tongue darting over his lips, your eyes following it for some reason, he holds the phone to his ear, his jaw clenched.

Murray answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Murray—”

You can hear the other man even from where you’re sat.

“You broke the jar, didn’t you.”

“Uh, yeah, but I can—”

“Oh, you fucking idiot. Is she with you?”

Hopper’s eyes briefly dart to you. “Uh, yeah, hey, I’m sure it’s replaceable, I can pay—”

“One, no, it’s not, and two, it’s not me you should be thinking about, you ass.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, are you feelin’ a little weird, Jim? Huh? Is your lady friend?”

“Uh...” He glances at you again before turning his back, lowering his voice slightly. “Yeah, why?”

You stood up instantly as he turned, and, ooff, there’s the dizziness again, though you manage to move closer to him, a frown pulling at your features as you tut, so you hear Murray’s humourlessly chuckled reply.

“Oooh, hoooo, you’re both in for quite a day.”

“Why, you fuckin’ asshole?”

“Let’s just say you’re going to be feeling certain urges... or maybe you’re already feeling them?”

Hopper glances at you yet again before turning his back away from you again. You hiss and move closer, brushing against him, which just makes you both grimace because there’s the electric current again. You try to stay as close as possible without touching him.

“Just tell me what’s fuckin’ goin’ on, Murray.”

“The best and most polite thing to call it would be an aphrodisiac.”

You frown as you glance up at Hopper, but he’s just staring at the wall.

“What? Why the fuck do you have something like this, Murray?”

“I was going to dilute it to sell in certain markets.”

“As what?”

“An aphrodisiac, dumbass.”

As Hopper snarls and opens his mouth, you grab the phone, your fingers brushing together making your stomach flip and something clench inside you.

Holding the phone to your ear, you swallow before exhaling a breath and murmuring, “What do we do, Murray? How do we stop feeling awful?”

He sighs, and you’re surprised and also slightly unsettled by his tone softening a little. “There’s not much you can do, except what you have wanted to do for a long time that neither of you will admit.”

Before you can speak, Hopper calls, even though he’s right beside you, “And what the hell does that mean?”

“Fuck each other!”

Your mouth drops open as you think your heart stops, and Hopper freezes beside you.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean—”

“No, Murray, I mean,” you quickly cut him off, rubbing at your damp forehead as you lick your dry lips, your cheeks burning. “What did you, why would we need to, uhm, do that?”

"It’s the only way to ease the aches and pains, honey, that—”

“Pain?”

You’re aching, yes, but you wouldn’t say you’re in pain.

“Stop interrupting me, Jesus...” You press your lips together at his exasperated sigh, before he takes a breath. “The pollen from that flower is like an instant aphrodisiac. If it comes into contact with your skin, that’s it, kiddos, you’re horny. I was diluting it so it’s less lethal, hence why it was in that jar marinating in that liquid. I’m assuming you got some of it on you when you oh so cleverly broke it for no reason?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t mean to—”

“What did I say about interrupting? Depending on how much you got on you, you’re gonna feel hot, then your whole body’s gonna ache, then’ll come the urges and the pain, and once those hit, hooo... so you two had better get to it.”

You feel like you’re having some kind of a fever dream. Rubbing your forehead again, you close your eyes for a few moments as you almost trip over your words, “What, hang on, w-what do you mean by lethal, what happens if we don’t, you know, do anything? It’ll just wear off, won’t it?”

Murray’s silent.

Oh... this is bad.

“C’mon, Murray, answer her.” Hopper’s sudden voice makes you jump.

There’s a quiet sigh. “You gotta take care of each other, together, or... or you’ll die.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Murray speak in an entirely gentle tone.

You don’t know what stuns you more; that, or his words.

“... What.” Your voice is so quiet.

Hopper is silent.

“I don’t know how much you were exposed to but no matter how much, the need and the pain, if nothing is done, can get so bad that your organs start to fail and shut down. If it was just a little, it’ll take longer, if it was a lot then I’d say it’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it... it was just a little. Few splashes. I think.” Your voice sounds far away to your own ears.

“Well, you’ve got some time, then. But it’s gonna be uncomfortable so get to it.”

“Right... Thanks, Murray.” You place the phone down, feeling so far out of your body, hanging up before he can say another word.

Silence.

You look up at Hopper as he clears his throat and moves away, being very careful not to brush against you, his hand running through his hair again. As he sits down in the armchair, you sit on the edge of the bed opposite, staring at the floor.

It’s... it’s... You don’t have the word for it. Wild. Outlandish. Crazy.

“He could be lying, right.” You look up at Hopper as he speaks, meeting his gaze. “He could be mad that we broke somethin’ of his and is just makin’ this all up.”

“Yeah,” is all you can think to say.

“This could just be a reaction to it.”

“Yeah...” You shrug after a moment, blowing out a breath. “Pretty fucking bizarre thing to make up.”

“Well, that’s Murray.”

You both fall silent as he stares at the wall and you stare at the bed. It’s got a patchwork blanket on it, all red squares with other panels of red floral designs. It reminds you of the damn flower. It’s like it’s taunting you. As are the beads of sweat sliding down your spine. And the new, faint, throbbing in your cunt.

You believe Murray.

It’s... wild and bizarre and you don’t understand it at all but, yes, you believe him. Your lips are suddenly dry, either from the realisation or the flower, and you lick them as you lift your gaze to Hopper. He’s still staring so intently at the wall, hands gripping the armrests.

His eyes flick to you as you speak gently.

“I think we should stay the night. Until this wears off. Don’t want to infect anyone else, if that’s possible.”

He nods curtly, expressionless. “Okay.”

Thankfully, Joyce has El for the night, Hopper having asked her to take her in case you both stayed longer than you thought you would, so that’s one less thing. You think about saying that out loud to him, then swiftly decide against it. Of course he’ll already thought about that, will probably take offence at you asking and think it implies you think he hasn’t.

You hate the silence of the room, though, hate the space it provides to think, so you continue instead with, “We’ll just... ride this shit out. It was only a few drops. We’ll be fine.”

Hopper may be expressionless, but what you can’t see are his blunt nails digging into the fabric of the chair. 

“Okay.”

—

It was a mistake, turning the TV on.

It’s too loud, too bright, but, fuck, you need the distraction. Your eyes are fixed on it like you’re possessed, and your shirt is soaked, sticking to your skin. Uncomfortable. Your skin is slick, you can feel sweat sliding down your face, arms, back. A loud commercial comes on and you grab the TV remote, turning it off as a wild burst of irritation suddenly flashes through you.

Focus on the room. Two double beds. Bare desk. Mini fridge. Bathroom. Standard motel room. Boring. Plain. Dull. So dull. Think about how dull it is.

It doesn’t work. It hasn’t been working for the last twenty minutes. Has it been twenty minutes? Longer? Less? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. Your body is aching, not only physically but with need, like you’ve never, ever felt before. You feel almost drunk, too, unchallenged words on the tip of your tongue, your brain doing the bare minimum to stop them from coming out... but they’re not just words, they’re pleas.

Touch me.

Kiss me.

Fuck me.

Your eyes dart to Hopper. He’s not moved but his shirt is soaked, too, the hair on his chest, peeking out the top of the grey, flannel button down, damp. That hair... You stare at it. How far down does it go... What would it feel like if you ran your fingers through it...

Your pussy clenches around nothing and tears start to sting at your eyes.

Fuck, I need to be touched.

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, thick with unshed tears. “Hop’, I feel awful.”

A muscle in his jaw moves. “It’s just a reaction to whatever it is—”

“Yeah, and what if it’s the kind of reaction he was talking about?”

Hopper finally looks at you, brow dipping. “You believe him?”

You hate the way he says it, all disbelieving, making you feel like you’re an idiot. 

“Yeah, I do. Why would he lie, especially about something like this? Yes, he’s a dick, but he’s not this much of a dick. He’s more likely to just rip into us and go on and on than make something up.”

“You can’t say that, you don’t know him.”

Brushed off. Again.

Your chin rises slightly, meeting a challenge you might be imagining. “I’ve known him long enough.”

His jaw moves as he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you hang out all the time do you? You best pals, know everythin’ about him?”

“No, it just doesn’t seem like him—”

“Doesn’t seem like your good pal Murray? How would you know? You can’t just make assumptions like that, he is a—”

The words lash out of you. “Oh, just shut the fuck up, Hopper.”

He pauses, lips still parted, his own words dying on his tongue... until new ones return, his eyebrows raising as his head tilts. “... Excuse me?”

Anger feels good, it channels some of this increasingly restless energy swirling inside you. “Just shut up, you’ve been a real asshole all week, all month, all the time I’ve God damn known you, actually—”

“You didn’t think I was an asshole at the Christmas party.”

You freeze, staring at him.

Last year’s Station Christmas party.

Why did he bring that up.

Was he thinking about that.

You know he was thinking about that.

Because you’ve been thinking about it, too, minutes earlier, intently. It had suddenly come rushing back to you, his hands on your waist, your lips on his, tongues stroking at each other, the moaned sigh you’d released as he’d pressed against you.

You’d both been drunk, though, and lonely and alcohol makes you horny so you’d wanted him to kiss you and he’d spent the last hour before it looking like he’d wanted to, too, your eyes constantly finding each other, looking, really looking, and then you’d just bumped into each other as you’d come out of the bathroom, but it seemed like he’d almost been waiting for you and then you’d talked, no, you’d flirted, he liked your dress, you liked his comically festive tie, and you were both laughing, your hands somehow on each other, maybe to steady yourselves, and then you’d... then you’d kissed.

Neither of you had brought it up, ever, until now. You’d been so horribly hungover the next day that you hadn’t even remembered it until late in the evening and you’d felt so embarrassed. You’d fretted for the rest of the night, wondering if you’d ruined your friendship and a relationship that meant so much to you, but when you’d gone into work the following Monday he hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t even looked at you differently. You’d been so incredibly relieved, but it had come back to you every now and then; how good his lips had felt, how passionate the kiss was, how his hands had felt on you.

All this time you’d thought he had just forgotten it... and it appeared that wasn’t the case at all. 

Your already warm face becomes warmer.

“I was drunk.”

He’s got a fucking smug look on his face, like a fucking petty bastard.

“You kissed me.”

“I did not.”

“You did, you pulled me in.”

“Oh, just shut up, Hopper, it doesn’t matter or count anyway because we were drunk.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I saw the way you were lookin’ at me—”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” you snap, staring at him.

He pauses, the smug look quickly fading. Then, he shrugs, the corners of his mouth turning down. “It doesn’t.”

“Good, shut up, then.”

Silence descends.

And you fucking hate it. At least while snapping at one another you don’t think about how your panties are now soaked and you just want to feel some fingers against your cunt and a cock deep inside you...

A strained groan slips from your lips.

“You okay?” he mumbles, and you blow out a harsh breath.

“No, I’m not, I just—”

Oh, fuck.

You were just about to say it. You were just about to ask him to fuck you. Rolling your neck, your breaths slightly shorter, ragged, you lick your dry lips again.

What the fuck do I do, I’m literally about to ask my boss, my friend, the absolute pain in my ass to fuck me so I don’t, possibly, die.

Then, it comes to you.

“... You just what—”

“Just need the bathroom,” you cut him off exasperatedly, every intonation of his voice prickling your skin, and not in an entirely unpleasant way.

“Jesus, fine,” he mutters, and you hope he doesn’t notice how quickly you turn your back to him as you stand, striding towards the wooden door to the bathroom.

Closing it firmly behind you and turning the lock, you step back from it, releasing a breath that has your shoulders relaxing minutely. You catch your reflection in the mirror to your left and release another breath at your expression; sweaty, tense, and, yes, there’s a trace of panic in your eyes.

Just do it. Do it then you’ll stop thinking about it and then it’ll be over and you’ll feel okay.

Your fingers, seemingly of their own accord, move to your jeans, fumbling with the button and zip. In your haste, the zip catches on the material and tears fill your eyes again.

Oh, come on, come on, come on, please...

You don’t realise you’re murmuring the words out loud, so fixated on what your fingers are doing. Finally after a moment or so you can shove them down, your panties with them, and then you’re spreading your legs as one hand braces against the door and the other slides between your pussy lips.

You can just about muffle the moan that falls from your mouth as your finger tips glide back and forth over your clit, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

Oh, fuck...

It feels heavenly, unlike any pleasure you’ve felt before from a first touch. You’re dripping, too, so soaking wet that you can hear it as your fingers quicken their pace... but it’s not enough.

How is it not enough?

Tears are slipping out of the corners of your eyes as you grit your teeth, a need so desperate coursing through you that it’s painful.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck... Why isn’t it working?

You slip two fingers inside your pussy, hoping filling yourself even a little will help but... no. It just makes you crave a cock inside you even more, increasing the aching that’s running through your entire body.

Oh, please, come on—

Two gentle knocks sound against the door. You freeze again, mouth open as your fingers stay buried inside you.

A throat clears on the other side, and then Hopper speaks, voice slightly muffled.

“Hey, uh... I’m sorry for snappin’, and for my shitty attitude, I... I know I haven’t been the best to be around lately...”

His words just become sounds as a kind of white-noise, ringing starts in your head.

Oh, no, no, no... No...

Your cunt is throbbing. You can’t help but think about him murmuring those apologies in your ear as his cock thrusts slow and deep inside you, as he tells you he’ll make it all up to you, everything, that you feel so good around his cock and he wants to make you feel so good all the time...

As your hand drops and you straighten, you don’t think you have absolute control of your body anymore. 

And you don’t fucking care.

Unlocking and yanking the door open, you instantly meet Hopper’s gaze, watching him blink as he abruptly silences whatever he was saying.

“Woah, you okay?”

How is he so normal? Yes, he’s sweating, profusely, but that’s it, seemingly. What a sight you must look in comparison. You watch his gaze travel down you, settling on your jeans and panties that are around your knees. His eyes dart back up to yours, and you watch his slick throat bob as he swallows hard.

“What the hell you doin’.”

You can hear your own breathing, ragged, short. Staring at him, you don’t know if it’s sweat or tears running down your cheeks.

“Hop’, I need you to touch me.”

It’s as if you’ve just asked him to detonate a bomb. His eyes widening, his mouth moves but nothing comes out for quite a few moments.

“I... Hey, now, hang on—”

“Please.” At any other time you might have been embarrassed for sounding so tragically desperate. “I tried, I tried to touch myself and it didn’t work, I’m aching so bad, please—”

“Sweetheart—”

That nearly has your knees weakening, a faint sound emitting from the back of your throat. He swallows again at hearing it and runs a hand down his mouth, shaking his head.

“I mean—”

“Fuck, Hop’, please. Don’t you feel it, too? I feel like, my, my, my whole body is just in pain, it fucking hurts, Hop’.”

You don’t know whether he feels it, too, or he’s just pitying you, because confliction is rife across his face.

And then he takes a step back, and he might as well have punched you in the stomach with the gasped breath that releases from you.

No, no, no, no...

“Hop’...”

He takes another step back, unable to stop his gaze from flicking down to where your hands are pushing your jeans and panties down and off, your shoes with them, kicking them aside. Then, he looks away, so sharply and suddenly, his fingers flexing by his sides.

“I can’t.”

“Why.”

You can’t think of any reason that would be damn good enough right now.

Hopper can’t look at you as he shakes his head again. “It’s not right, you don’t want this, it’s just the flower—”

“I want this, I want you, Hop’, I need you...” You’ve stepped towards him, your hands on his chest, sliding over his damp shirt, fisting it in your hands. “... I need you inside me...”

His jaw is so tight, his whole body is, you can feel his muscles underneath your hands, and his breathing is harsher. He raises a hand, which you don’t notice is shaking until he places it on one of your forearms. You wait for him to try and pull it away, but he just grips it lightly.

“You... You don’t want me really, this, this isn’t right—”

“I do, I do...” Your chin lifts and your lips brush against his jaw, and you swear you hear him groan quietly. You cling onto it, even if it isn’t real, and the words tumble out of you. “... I’ve thought about you before, inside me, making me cum, I’ve fucked myself imagining it was you before, so many times, please, Hop’, I’m begging you...”

He must have groaned because now his head is tilted against yours, lips against your cheekbone. His thumb is brushing against your inner wrist, too, so lightly. You press against him... and feel it.

His cock straining against his jeans.

Maybe it’s not just you, then. The arm he isn’t gripping moves, your hand dropping to settle on his thigh, your fingers caressing.

“Please, Hop’...” you whisper.

You know he groans this time, his lips so close to your ear. You know he’s seconds from crumbling, too, his hips angling towards your hand, his hand sliding from your wrist to your bicep, head turning closer towards yours, lips inches away—

Then, he freezes, a breath hissing out through his teeth.

He doesn’t move away but, staring at him, you can see the confliction return and even some anger that washes over his features.

“Hop’—”

“This isn’t the way I wanted it to be.”

You pause, lips parted so your harsh breaths can escape audibly. He hadn’t wanted to say that. He’d hissed the words out, eyes unable to meet yours, in fact he’s now closed them; regret swirling inside him.

But you can only think about one thing right now. 

You’re shaking with relief and anticipation. “... You’ve thought about me, too, then.”

A statement, not a question.

His eyes open, finding yours. “Yeah.”

You relish every word you say. “Then fuck me like you’ve wanted to.”

Any last restraint he has crumbles.

And he must have be in just as much pain as you because it happens in mere seconds.

Hopper’s hand grips the back of your head, holding you close and tight against him as his lips crash against yours. A combination of a sob and a moan emits from the back of your throat as you grip at his shirt, desire burning through your veins. His other arm wraps around your lower back and part of your brain is grateful for his strong grip because then he’s suddenly turning you and walking you back towards the closest bed.

The backs of your legs knock against it and you fall back on the soft covers, and it’s like he didn’t let you go at all as he’s already on top of you, one arm by the side of your head, the hand of the other resting on your torso, fingers splayed. One leg is between yours to hold himself up and your brain is working so fast, trying to find any way to soothe what your body is crying out for, that it takes you a moment to initiate its plan. Shifting down, your back arching with the movement, you start to rock your bare cunt against his thigh. The moaned cry you release is swallowed by his mouth, but he gives a groan in return.

“Fuck...” he hisses, feeling how wet you are as you’ve already soaking through his jeans.

The material is rough but that just makes it more heavenly against your swollen, aching clit and folds. Gripping his biceps, your lips tear from his as you tip your head back with a loud moan, eyes closed tightly. It’s not enough but it still feels so fucking good.

It takes you a few moments to realise he’s pushed your shirt and bra up, and his lips instantly descend upon your hard nipples, kissing, licking, sucking, pulling with his teeth slightly.

Tears are sliding down your cheeks in relief and a smile is pulling at your lips because—

“Yes...” you gasp, fingers curling tightly into his hair, tugging at his scalp.

His hips jerk as you do, and his grunts tell you just how much he likes it. So you do it again, and again, and again... and realise he’s grinding his hips against your thigh, just like you’re doing to him.

“Fu-uck...” he growls against your chest, his mouth moving in a deliciously sloppy way up your skin to your neck.

You whine as he kisses you there, your head tipping back, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

It’s so, so fucking good... but it’s still not enough.

“Hop’, need more...”

“Shh, don’t worry, baby, I know...”

How can he string words together? You had just about managed to breathe yours out.

What delicious words they were, though.

You must have done something in response to them, bucked your hips a certain way or made a sound, you don’t quite know because your mind is starting to feel like liquid, because he’s suddenly smiling now.

A lazy, smug smile that makes you clench.

Gazing down at you, his hands splay across your waist, and he presses his thigh a little harder against your cunt, which has your back arching.

“You like when I call you baby, huh? When I talk to you?”

“Yeah…” is all you can so eloquently answer with.

“That’s good to know.”

How is he capable of this much talking? Does the pollen enhance sexual characteristics that are already there?

Whatever it does, you can’t think on it much further because the hand on your waist is now travelling down your stomach, and you’re about to complain at his thigh suddenly disappearing when they’re now replaced by his long fingers sliding over your cunt.

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp as he groans, your eyes falling shut.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet, you’re fuckin’ dripping…”

You don’t even bother trying to respond. Gripping at his shoulders, all you can do is moan as three of his fingers drag up and down your folds. When they move over your clit, you don’t know whether it’s a sob or a moan that falls from your open mouth. Either way, pure pleasure courses through you. Maybe at any other point you would have cum right there and then from how intense it is, but you need something inside you. Whatever is happening, that’s all you know.

“God, Hop’, please…”

“I know, baby…”

And as he says the words, he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Yes…” you cry, your hips pushing down so they slide all the way inside you, but if you’d been coherent enough to you would have bet he would have done so anyway.

“Jesus…” he hisses, tone strained, and he instantly starts to slip them in and out of you, sinking them in as far as he can each time. “… You’re so fuckin’ wet…”

He groans again when you clench down on his fingers, and it seems to break whatever kind of resolve he was still holding onto, however the hell he was holding on to it.

A pitiful whine of protest escapes you when his fingers pull out, and he just nods swiftly, strands of hair falling over his forehead as he rises up onto his knees.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, just let me… Fuck…”

Lifting your head, you watch him shift backwards until his boots can touch down on the ground, but it’s only a moment before he’s kneeling on the floor and then his hands are wrapping around your thighs, widening them, and then he’s lowering his head and then… and then…

Your mouth drops open wider as your hands dart to his hair, plunging in once again as his tongue licks a long, wide path up your folds.

“Just needed to fuckin’ taste you…” he mumbles against you, the vibration of his voice making you mewl.

If his hands weren’t keeping your thighs apart you would have wrapped them around his head. All you can do, though, is rock your hips and grind against his tongue. He growls with pleasure, and just as you inhale a breath to beg for more, he pushes three fingers inside of you.

Three.

Three of his thick, long fingers slide inside you with no resistance or pain at all, and you throw your head back with a loud cry as you clench around them.

“Fu-uck...” he groans, curling them a little, stroking inside you. “... Look how fuckin’ easy that was, huh... How fuckin’ easy are you gonna take my cock, baby? Huh? Is it gonna slide right in? Fill you all up on the first stroke?”

Again, at any other time, you would have cum right there and then, but... somehow it’s just not enough.

Gritting your teeth, because while it’s not enough, the pleasure is still so fucking good, you release a sound between a sob and a moan.

“Hop’... Fucking need more...”

“You want my cock in you, sweetheart, huh?”

“Please.”

He groans again, and then you hear it.

He’s stroking his cock in swift, firm movements, and you want to be doing that, you want to be touching him, tasting him, pleasuring him, and—

“Want you to cum on my tongue, wanna fuckin’ taste you,” he mumbles against your pussy, lapping at you again, and you have to take in a few ragged breaths before you can speak.

“... Can’t... Not enough... Need your cock...”

“Christ...” He exhales a breath that closely resembles another growl. “... Do you know what hearin’ those words does to me, huh? Oh, you’re gonna cum on my cock, baby, but I’ve fuckin’ dreamed about you cumming in my mouth so you know what you’re gonna do?” He lifts his head, and you open your half-lidded eyes to look at him. “... You’re gonna cum on my tongue.”

And lowering his head again, he sucks hard at your aching clit.

And maybe it is just enough, because your back is arching and you’re pulling at his hair and he’s having to tighten his grip on your thigh and tears of relief or maybe it’s beads of sweat are sliding down your cheeks because yes, yes, yes...

You don’t realise you’re chanting the word as your climax builds, and when it rolls through you, a blissful serenity follows it...

That lasts all of a few seconds before you’re squirming again, the throbbing in your core somehow sharper, more desperate.

Hopper, however, is sucking and licking at you still, lapping up your release as he moans, an arm moving to settle over your lower stomach. Opening your eyes, you gaze down at him and see his hand working over his cock still and you want to move and touch him but his arm is keeping you down and his tongue is continuing to move so deliciously against your cunt.

And then he’s releasing short, sharp groans, and his hips are jerking and his hand is starting to slow, and then he cums, and you can only watch as it trickles down his fingers.

No, no, no, you want to feel him cum, you want it inside you—

He lifts his head, licking his lips, and the hunger still burning in his eyes steals your breath away.

He rises, and you can only watch with ragged breaths as he kicks his boots away and pushes his trousers and boxers off. His dick is still hard, pressed flat against his stomach, tip red and weeping.

“You want my cock? You want my fuckin’ cock inside you...?” he’s murmuring, and your eyes dart up to meet his as you release a breath.

“God, fuck, yes, Hop’...”

“C’mere...” He’s suddenly on top of you, then, cupping the top of your head with his large hand as he props himself up on his elbow. It eases some more of the pain a little, having him crowd you, feeling his skin on yours, but you both know exactly what you need.

His eyes are boring down into yours, and your nails are digging into shoulders, and then, finally, you feel the tip of his cock against your cunt.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck, inside me...” you’re breathing, pleading, half out of your mind with need as you nod.

And then, without any more teasing or talking, his thick cock slides all the way inside you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out and your back arches. Pure pleasure and relief and bliss overwhelms you, and you haven’t even cum on him yet. In fact, he can’t move yet because you’re clenched so tightly around him, your slick walls gripping at him like your cunt doesn’t want him to ever leave.

His breaths are short, sharp, strained, and his hand has moved to rest under your head, a gesture that, at any other time, you would have recognised as tender.

“Oh, fuck, baby... Fuck... Feel every inch of my dick... You feel it, huh?”

Words aren’t possible anymore, so you can only nod, eyes still shut tight, and your breaths fall away into moans as he kisses at your neck, all of them sloppy, uncoordinated, needy, and you suddenly realise he’s murmuring to you.

“... Wanna fuckin’ move, wanna make you feel so fuckin’ good, wanna cum in your wet cunt and feel you cum on me, want you screamin’ my fuckin’ name...”

As if his words were the key, you unclench around him with a whine of desire, and, with a hiss, he instantly draws his hips back and then snaps them forward, sinking fully into you once again.

Fucking lighting zips through your body, you’ve never felt anything like it.

He must feel it, too, because he doesn’t stop for one moment, drawing all the way back and thrusting right back into you to the hilt, each time harder than the last and, distantly, you can hear the headboard smacking against the wall.

“... Good girl... Good fuckin’ girl...” he’s growling through gritted teeth, and you realise you are because you’re doing exactly as he wanted.

You’re shouting his name amongst your moans.

And not even just ‘Hop’ or ‘Hopper’; ‘Jim’ is falling from your lips, and each time he hears it his hips snap forward just that little bit harder.

“Yeah, baby, good fuckin’ girl... Good girl... Fuckin’ Christ... Can you hear how fuckin’ wet you are? Listen to how fuckin’ good you take my cock, baby... Take it... Fuck, take it...”

Nevermind listening, it’s how he feels inside you that’s making sparks skitter across your skin. He fills and stretches you perfectly, dragging and sliding against your sensitive walls deliciously each time. You’re not going to last much longer, the last coherent part of your mind knows, and it nearly makes you sob with both relief and dread.

You never want this fucking feeling to end, it’s all so good, so fucking good but you know it’s just going to feel even better when you cum, when you feel him cum.

Managing to open your eyes, you find his gaze still on you, flicking from your parted lips to your chest.

“... Cum...” you whisper, voice hoarse, and you have to swallow before you try again. “... Cum inside me, please... Want to feel you cum... Fill me with your cum...”

“Yeah?” His jaw is tight, eyes boring into your own again. “... Wanna feel my fuckin’ cum fillin’ you up, baby, huh? Want my fuckin’ cum leaking out of you?”

“Yes”, you chant over and over and over breathlessly, gaze fixed on his, unable to look away because his hips are stuttering in their rhythm, just slightly, but enough that you know.

He’s close.

“Cum, cum for me...” you start to plead now, “... Wanna feel you cum, cum inside me, Jim, please... I need it...”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ need it, baby?” he grunts, voice low, gravelling.

“Yeah, give it to me, please...”

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take my cum...” He groans sharply then, mouth dropping open. “... Fuck...” His hand darts out from under your head and grips at the bedcovers, and with a few more thrusts, he then buries deep inside you and cums with a shout, eyes shut tight.

And euphoria spreads through you.

You feel his cum spill inside you, and the pleasure that courses through you from the sensation sends you spiralling into your own release. Gripping at his arms, nails digging in probably to the point of pain, you throw your head back and cry out.

It’s unlike any bliss you’ve ever felt before.

For a few moments you may even black out as it rolls through you in wave upon wave upon wave.

Hopper feels closer, as well, as if he’s collapsed slightly but just about managed to hold himself up in time. His lips are against your jaw, and you can feel his panted breaths, his lightly trembling frame.

Oh, you’re trembling, too, can hear it in your own breaths.

At least you can try and calm your heart rate, now, because it must be over, it has to be. It’s been done now, it’s...

It’s...

It’s...

It’s still there. That strange energy, whatever the hell it is. It’s not as intense now, but it’s there. Enough so that you lick your lips and gaze up at him, finger tips gliding down his arms.

“Hop’... I can still feel it.”

It’s a few moments before his eyes open, and when his gaze meets yours, and you realise he’s still hard inside you, you know before he speaks what he’s going to say.

“... Me, too.”

Neither of you speak, or move, just gaze at each other. Enough sense has returned that you take these few moments to breathe, but not enough that when those moments do start to stretch on... you just can’t help yourself.

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you start to slowly roll your hips.

His eyes fall shut with a guttural groan, and your involuntary mewl answers him.

When his eyes then snap open, you also can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“You not satisfied yet?” he murmurs, voice dangerously low, and you shake your head as your tongue glides across your lips.

“Fuck me again, Jim.”

His thumb and forefinger are suddenly gripping your chin, and his lips hover over yours as he exhales a breath.

“It not enough that my cum is fillin’ you up? You need some fuckin’ more?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, trying to lift your chin higher so you can kiss him, but he holds firm.

“You want me to fuck you again, sweetheart?”

“Please, Jim...”

His lips brush against yours, and it’s the lightest of touches, but it’s enough to have you moaning as you rock your hips again.

“Please...”

“Well, seein’ as you’ve been a good fuckin’ girl...”

Pulling back, he rises up onto his knees, and pulls out of you. You mewl softly at feeling empty now, but you’re instantly distracted by his hands gripping your thighs, keeping them parted wide, and the fact his eyes are fixed on your cunt.

“Fuck... Your pussy looks so pretty with my cum spilling out of it...”

Fucking hell.

“Hop’, please, fuck me, I need you again, I need your cock—”

“I know, baby, I know.” Your words have his gaze tearing away and returning to your own, and he releases your thighs with a groan. “Turn over. On your stomach.”

You don’t need telling twice.

Except you have your own demand.

“Take your shirt off, I want to feel all of you.”

When his fingers fly to the buttons of it and start undoing them, then you roll over onto your front, resting your cheek against the covers.

You hear him toss it aside, and then his fingers are sliding down your back, over your ass and to your cunt. His fingertips caress your pussy lips lightly, gliding up and down, and your eyes fall shut at the gentle waves of pleasure that pulse through you. He’s toying with your mixed cum, gently pushing it back inside you and spreading it along your cunt.

“Jesus Christ...” he breathes, half in awe, half aroused.

Any other time you would have left him indulge himself for as long as he wanted, but the desperate need inside you is growing once more.

“Jim... Fuck me...”

You’ve only just finished pleading him, when his cock sinks inside you, this time in a slow, long thrust.

As your mouth drops open in a high moan, your fingers gripping onto the covers, he releases a long groan, eyes fixed on his dick disappearing inside you.

“Fuck, look at that...” His hands grip your ass, spreading you open wider. “... Take me so fuckin’ good... So fuckin’ good...”

Your eyes nearly roll back when you close them, as he starts to repeatedly give you slow, long thrusts, watching his own cock spread your soaked lips apart. You’re nearly delirious with pleasure, cunt pulsing around him, and when you feel him move, you can’t even open your eyes.

He settles over you, holding himself up on his forearm while his other hand slides under your neck and grips it gently, making you lift your head, tipping it back a little.

And now his lips are right against your ear.

“Fucking perfection... Like you were fuckin’ made for my cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply as his thrusts speed up a little.

The position you’re now in somehow makes it feel more delicious than before, like his cock is somehow filling you even more. You now focus on the lewd sounds caused by how wet your pussy is, too, and it’s so lewd, so filthy and hot that it’s making your stomach clench.

You must clench around him again, too, because he inhales a ragged breath before speaking.

“You gonna cum for me again?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, mind starting to turn blank.

“Gonna cum on my hard cock? Soak it and the fuckin’ bed?”

“Please...”

It feels more intense this time, the mounting pleasure, and your fingers twist into the bed covers as you try and ground yourself. He’s murmuring into your ear still, hand on your throat still gentle.

“... what a good fuckin’ girl you are, taking my cock so good, gonna take my cum again, huh? How many times can I cum in this pretty little pussy, how many times can I fill you up until you’re satisfied, huh...”

It’s all too much, too good...

Your orgasm crashes over you.

Your brow dipping, your mouth dropping open, a scream is pulled from your throat, and the world goes dark.

—

Your eyes snap open.

Oh, fuck.

There’s a slight pounding in your head, the beginnings of a headache most likely from dehydration.

Annoying.

When did I last have a drink, though? Or eat? Must’ve been...

Oh.

It all comes flooding back to you.

That... That actually happened?

Releasing a soft groan, you lift a heavy hand to try and rub at your forehead—

Another hand catches it, and the space beside you dips slightly.

“Hey, hey, woah, you okay?”

Your gaze darts to the source, and you find Hopper sat there, concern etched across his features. You don’t have time to think about it or answer, though, as he swiftly releases your hand and a glass of water suddenly appears before you.

“Here, drink this.”

Sitting up a little, you drink deeply, your throat dry, raw, actually, and the entire contents is nearly gone when you finally lower it, gasping a breath in.

He takes the glass from you, placing it on the bedside table, and as you lick your lips and adjust against the pillows, he watches you, fingers rubbing against his mouth.

Clearing his throat after a few moments, he ask quietly, “You okay?”

Is it too soon to tell him that was probably the best fuck of your life?

Raising your eyebrows, a light smile pulls at your lips. “Yeah. A little sore, but...” Your smile fades as he looks down at his hands, his jaw moving. “... Oh, Hop’, I didn’t—”

He can’t look at you, his head shaking. “I am so... I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, no, don’t be.” Leaning forward, you place your hand on his arm, hating that he stiffens. “We couldn’t control ourselves—”

“I could’ve, I could’ve held out longer, I could’ve locked myself in that fucking bathroom, I just...” He looks fucking devastated.

Shifting closer, you wrap your other hand around his arm, tightening your grip. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I mean it. I...” Well, it’s now or fucking never, and all things considered... “... I wanted it, Hop’. Even without that aphrodisiac thing. I wanted you. I have for a long time.”

Your face is burning and your heart is pounding but relief settles on your shoulders the moment you finish speaking.

His head turns towards you now, gaze darting to meet yours, searching it. “You... You’re not lyin’ to me?”

Your lips lifting again, you shake your head before murmuring, “No.”

Hopper exhales a breath, his hand setting over both of yours. “I’ve... Fuck, I’ve wanted you, too. Just... I imagined it going a little differently.”

You give a soft laugh as delight overwhelms you, and his thumb brushes against your skin. “Yeah, we really skipped the first date, didn’t we.”

“In the traditional sense.” He smiles as you laugh again, but it’s gone just as soon as it arrived. “... You sure you’re okay?”

You don’t care how foolish you look, with your tender smile, gaze openly filled with affection. Probably because his gaze is exactly the same.

“I am. Really. It’s a good sore.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your teeth graze over your lower lip. “I wouldn’t mind getting used to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’d hoped you’d say that...”

Cupping your cheek, he closes the gap between you and kisses you tenderly, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin gently. It’s sweet, gentler than you had ever imagined him to be.

It’s perfect.

When his lips leave yours but he remains close, you smile again. “I guess we can give Murray a thorough review, then.”

He growls quietly as he brushes his nose against yours. “Don’t talk about that man right now...”

As he moves closer, laying you back on the bed, your arms slide around his neck and your smile widens.

“Yes, Chief.”

—

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#jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #hopper x reader #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper smut #my writing #flamehairedwritings #just a goofy sexy time

[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

[moooxy]

mean!jim hopper smut?

Harmless (18+)

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Mean!Jim Hopper x Reader

Synopsis: Every time you hang out with Jonathan, Joyce’s friend drives you home.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: possessiveness, dumbification, dirty talk, overall mean hopper, rough grabbing, slapping, semi-public sex, threats, size kink, face-fucking, daddy kink, creampie

AN: oh I’ve been waiting for a hopper request for so long

It wasn’t your place to say, but you quite liked Hopper. Whenever he wasn’t so serious, his sense of humour was cute and quick-witted. You liked to mess with him; talking back to him when he splashed his authority onto you and Jon, teasing him whenever he looked too solemn.

It wasn’t your place to say, but you quite liked Hopper. Whenever he wasn’t so serious, his sense of humour was cute and quick-witted. You liked to mess with him; talking back to him when he splashed his authority onto you and Jon, teasing him whenever he looked too solemn.

However, you don’t think he liked you very much. Sure he faked a simper around Joyce, but between you and him… he stayed as stoic as ever. And god, whenever you talked back to him you could feel the annoyance vibrating in his blood. As fun as it was for you, he didn’t reciprocate the amusement.

As a plan to get some peace and quiet, Joyce started to kick the both of you out when she tended to routinely ask Hopper to give you a ride home. Neither of you had the heart to disappoint the sweet Joyce Byers, so you went along with it.

You visited Jon a few times a week, and each time Hopper drove you home. Each time you tried to make the ride less awkward, by attempting to strike up a conversation or flicking through his music tapes—but he was impenetrable.

It was a Friday night, and Hopper’s shitty car bounced as you both got in. You hated his car; it was ugly, jouncy, noisy and it tended to wildly splutter at random times. Taking a deep breath to overcome the immense amount of intimidation you felt asking him a normal question, you speak up. “Can you drop me at the diner? It’s on the way—“

“Why?” He asks, flicking on his headlights.

“I uhm, I have a date.”

“With who? Thought you were with Jonathan,” he grumbles.

“No, he’s dating Nancy Wheeler. And it’s with uh— Billy Hargrove,” you let out.

“Oh definitely not,” he snarls. “Not with that kid.” You don’t dare to argue, his aura of authority ignites— he wants no challenge from you.

You don’t say a word when you leave his car, after he drops you off outside your house.

The next few times you visit Jon, you don’t stick around and wait for Hopper. You started to bring your bike again, so you’d just walk straight past Hopper and ride home. A week later on Saturday, he catches you out. It’s dark out, he snatches your wrist just as you’re about to leave.

“It’s too late to bike. I’ll take you,” he grunts. He mumbles a short goodbye to Joyce, before he leads you out, his hand hovering over the small of your back. He loads your bike in the trunk, his car jolts forward when he piles into the driver's seat. He turns the key, and the silence between you is disturbed by the choking of his engine. “So, you’ve been avoidin’ me?”

You choke on your own saliva at the unexpected confrontation. “Uhm… I’d think of it more as doing you a favour.” You say as he finally pulls out of the driveway.

“How so?”

“Well, I know you’re not very fond of me. I know you’d rather hang out with Joyce more than driving me home…” you explain.

He snorts, “hang out with Joyce? We’re not teenagers,” he mumbles and you shrug. “I’d rather you get home safe.”

“Well, that’s your job Chief.” You tease.

“Alright, don’t get too cocky now,” he says. “I’m just lookin’ out for you, ‘s all. Don’t want you to get your heart broken by that fuckin’ Hargrove kid.”

“You’re not my daddy,” you mumble.

“Okay…? Like I said, just lookin’ out for ya.” He says, pulling up to the curb outside of your house. “Out, kid.”

You scoff, “thanks for the ride, daddy.” Hopper watches you rig your bike out of his trunk, letting out a strangled exhale when you walk inside your house. You made his dick fucking twitch when you called him ‘daddy’, and he instantly senses that something bad’s gonna happen.

A few days later, you’re climbing in his car again. He has news to tell you this time, and you can tell something’s up because of his stiffness— well, he’s more stiff than usual.

“Saw that kid kissin’ another girl at the bar,” he grumbles into the tense atmosphere of his car.

“Hopper, you really think I’m seeing him because I wanna be his girlfriend?” You ask with a slight chortle. He grunts in response, confused. He signals for you to elaborate. “I’m only going out with him because…” you stop yourself, already oversharing.

“‘Cus of what?”

“Well… It’s silly but— I heard he’s got a big—”

“Oh you gotta be kiddin’ me,” he says with a judgemental huff. “Where is your self respect?”

“Oh so I let a guy fuck me once and all of the sudden I have no self-respect?” You scoff, turning away from him. You’re pissed off. “I have needs.”

“Well sugar, I have needs too but you don’t see me going around and finding a slut with the ‘tightest pussy’, do ya?” He sternly mumbles, a hint of ridicule laced in his tone.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Well so is he so I don’t see the problem,” he replies.

“The problem is: I’m not using you for your cock, so it actually matters if you’re an asshole to me,” you seethe.

You see his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “Don’t get mouthy with me, girl.”

“Or what?” You scorn, gritting your teeth as you look out of the window.

“Or I’ll fucking pull over,” he snarls.

“Yeah? And do what? You’re harmless,” you deride him.

“You wanna find out?” He looks over at you, threatening you.

“You won’t do shit—“ and with that, he’s steering off to the side of the road, it’s a conveniently quiet area surrounded by trees.

“Get out,” he growls, jumping out of his seat and stomping over to your side. “You wanna act like a slut, you get treated like one,” he rumbles, trapping you against the side of his car. The bitter air caresses your bare thighs, the wind causing your skirt to aggressively fly up. “On your fuckin’ knees.”

You don’t dare to disrespect him, you’re fucking in for it now. Yeah, you did want to wind him up, you did find him attractive, you did find him fun to play with—but you really blew it now.

“Open your mouth,” he commands. “And I swear to god if you say ‘make me’ I’ll fucking dislocate your jaw,” he grunts. Instantly, your mouth flies open and he almost laughs. You’d be lying if you said his dominance wasn’t making you wet. “Good slut, you look so pretty right now.”

You don’t dare to take your eyes off his, you hear his belt clink as he tugs it off. After you hear a quick zip, he takes himself out. He’s so fucking big, he’s even comparing his size to your face. He strokes himself, his length reaches your forehead— and he’s incredibly thick too. He slaps your tongue with his cock, tauntingly chuckling at the evident fear in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, sugar? Thought you liked big cocks,” he teases, his honey voice laced with sticky threat.

“Not as big as yours—“ you say but he curtly slaps your face with his thick fingers.

“When did I say you could talk?” He grumbles, “bad fucking slut.” And with that, he slides himself into your mouth. “Not a sound from you,” he commands and you nod as best as you can.

He moistens himself up with the saliva in your mouth, slathering his cock with your spit and then thrusting himself back in, slowly. He’s only halfway in and you already feel like gagging, he’s already cutting off your air supply. He thrusts himself in your mouth— you’re not really doing much sucking, he’s using you as a fuck toy. Everytime you close your eyes he slaps your cheek, and a proud smile emits on his face when he sees your glassy eyes. “If only you were this quiet when you haven’t got a cock stuffed in your throat. God, everytime you run your mouth I’m doing this,” he grumbles. “You really are a good girl deep down, aren’t you?”

You hum, when you blink a tear drops from your eyelashes.

“Poor baby, crying on daddy’s cock. I’d feel bad for you but fuck— you had this coming,” he mumbles with a grin. He pulls out of your mouth, and he feels his knees go weak at the sight. “Fuck—it’s drippin’ down your chin,” he almost moans. Your saliva is drizzling down from your bottom lip. “Come on honey,” he opens his back door, “I’ll look after ya.”

He slides in, patting his knee and you eagerly follow him. He has you on his lap, hard cock springing up. He slides your panties out of the way, silently thanking you for wearing a skirt. You sink down onto him with a strangled moan, and he chuckles evilly.

“Look at you. Sugar, I’m going to fucking devour you,” he rasps and you whine into his neck.

And that’s exactly what he does.

It’s not long before he has you bouncing on his cock, your legs aching and you’re begging him to make you slow down. He doesn’t listen, his hands continue to bounce you repeatedly on his huge cock. You’re so close already, and you try your hardest to wait and save yourself from the embarrassment— but he knows, he can read you like a fucking book.

“Sugar,” he moans out. “I can feel you tightenin’ around me,” he groans. “You gonna cum?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please.”

“Fuck, say please again and I’ll let you cum right fuckin’ now,” Hopper groans, spreading your cheeks open and slamming you down onto his cock.

“Please, please,” you mewl.

“Good slut. Good fucking slut,” he gasps. You finally let loose, pussy spasming around his length as you’re finally able to cum. “You feel so good,” he mumbles, still bouncing you up and down. “Don’t worry sugar, keep making those cute little sounds and I’ll cum soon,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “God, you’re perfect for me. Should have fucked this pussy sooner,” he says and you nod in agreement. “You’re fucked stupid, bet you don’t even know what I said, do you?” He chuckles and you nod again— he was right. He always was, he knew you so well in such a short amount of time. “Fuck ‘m close,” he groans. You lean in to kiss him but he turns his head and you frown. “I don’t do kissing, sugar.”

You hum in disappointment, arms clutching onto his shoulders. He stops bouncing you, holding you upright and pummelling into you from below. It produces a vulgar slapping sound, and you feel your eyes rolling back at the pure pleasure and overstimulation you’re feeling right now.

“Perfect pussy, all fucking mine.” He grunts, slapping into you relentlessly. He groans, “I’m close. You want my cum, sugar? You want my cum in your little pussy?” He eggs you along, and you nod vigorously. “Fuuuck,” he groans out. Quickly after that, he stops pounding into you and finally spills inside of you. “That what you needed in order to stop seeing that delinquent kid?”

“God, yes,” you whine.

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #jim hopper #mean hopper #hopper x reader #hopper smut #stranger things smut

[empresskylo]

𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you have always thought chief jim hopper was hot. and you knew he thought the same about you, he just tried to hide it because he thought it was wrong since he knew your dad 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. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jim hopper x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut— unprotected sex, car sex, large age gap, reader still in high school but is eighteen, sorta rough sex? size kink,  power dynamic. *if any of this bothers you, don’t read. 𝐰𝐜 | 2.9 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i now have dark!hopper fic ideas so if anyone has any requests lmk

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

「 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 」 [bonus gif added at the end] r.h. masterlist

Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you wrote for the school paper and that often led to you questioning the police about local crime scenes. And it wasn’t your fault that you encountered the chief of police, Jim Hopper, on almost every occasion. And it definitely wasn’t your fault that he was so good looking. What, were you supposed to pretend you didn’t find his authority and dad bod hot? But it might have been a little bit your fault that Hopper got stumped on the questions you’d ask him because you made sure to wear your shortest skirt those days. 

Hopper was not a boy in your school who would fumble with his words and act stupid around someone he was attracted to. But still, you could tell that Hopper was into you, even if he hid it well. It’s like he expected your bombarding presence when anything remotely interesting happened in Hawkins. You’d show up, notebook in hand, and press him for details. You knew he was hard to crack. He was professional and no one could get information out of him… Well, except for you. You always managed to get him to spill some sort of top-secret information about the case–just enough for you to work with. And if that wasn’t obvious enough that he liked you, you also had caught him glancing over at you before, his eyes lingering on your exposed legs before quickly averting his gaze.

\\ 

It was the weekend and you were busy celebrating this being your final year of high school by attending a party. You danced through the crowd of bodies, catching a glimpse of Steve Harrington working his charm on one of the popular girls in your grade. You rolled your eyes, he’d grow out of it eventually. 

You didn’t think the party was too loud until a police siren sounded from outside the house. In a panic, students began running every which way, darting out of whoever’s house this was–you weren’t quite sure–and off into the streets and woods. You peered out the window and saw Hopper walking up to the door, yelling at a couple of kids as he did. You were glad you wore your favorite skit and a low-cut shirt tonight. 

Before Hopper could bang on the door, you swung it open. 

“Hi, officer,” you teased. His face was tense and his narrowed eyebrows made him appear threatening–nothing new here. 

“What the hell are you dumb fucking kids thinking?” He yelled, spotting the drunk teenagers behind you as they darted out the back door to escape Hopper’s rage.

“It’s just a small get together.”

Hopper rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked around, most of the others had fled the scene, their laughing voices and hollering echoing down the neighborhood street. 

This wasn’t even your house, you knew you couldn’t get in trouble for this. But you couldn’t help but swoon at the idea of Hopper putting you in handcuffs…

“Shows over. Go home.” He ordered at you and the small group who were watching from behind you in the living room. It must have been the kid who lived here and his close friends, who else would have the guts to stick around… Well, besides you, of course. 

Hopper turned around and marched down the steps towards his truck. He didn’t get paid enough to deal with annoying seniors throwing a house party. His presence was enough to break the whole thing up, so he was calling that a job well done. 

“Wait,” you called out to him, chasing him down the lawn. Hopper stopped in front of his vehicle and turned towards you, an annoyed scowl plastered across his unshaven face. “What?” His voice was dark and husky from lack of sleep.

“I…Don’t have a way home.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. You weren’t lying–now that everyone else had ditched, you really didn’t have a ride home, and it was late and dark out. 

“Seriously?” He asked. 

You could see the harsh lines from frowning all the time engraved on his forehead. Still, there was a softness to him. You knew he wouldn’t say no. 

In a huff, he turned to get in his car, “Get in.” 

You smiled, happy at your success, and jumped into the passenger side of his truck. 

Hopper already knew where you lived, he was well acquainted with your dad, and in such a small town, everyone knew where everyone lived. 

After Hopper had taken off down the road, you leaned over and turned on the radio. That earned an annoyed glance and a grunt from him. He reached out and turned the volume down, the low hum of The Rolling Stones playing out of his shitty speakers. 

You looked out the window and rubbed your arms. Hopper didn’t pay much attention to what you were doing so you had to vocalize your intentions. “It’s cold in here.” Your arms laid bare to the chill Autumn weather. When Hopper didn’t respond, you began digging in the back compartment of his truck. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” He shot daggers at you before looking back at the road.

“Don’t you have an extra jacket or something in here?” 

You turned back to him and he sat in silence, contemplating if he should do what his mind just told him to do. Jim was trying his hardest not to engage with you, he knew it would lead to no good. Against his better judgment, he slipped his coat off and shoved it at you. 

You were genuinely surprised that he actually gave you his coat. You held it a bit dumbfounded before sliding it on. It was warm from his body heat and smelt of him. You felt a rush of blood rise to your cheeks as you drowned in Hopper’s coat that was evidently too big for you. 

It was only a few more minutes before Hopper pulled up to your house, pulling over on the side of the street, bushes and trees in your front yard blocking any view from inside your house to Hopper’s truck.

You smiled and looked over at him, “Thanks.”

He had no excuse not to look at you now that he wasn’t driving. When he looked over, his jacket was engulfing you like a blanket, your exposed legs hanging out of it like it were a dress. His jaw tensed and he controlled himself from gulping. “Sure thing, kid.”

Maybe you’d be able to get out without him realizing you didn’t give him his coat back. You could sleep in it all night. And it would be a perfect excuse to go visit him at the station in the morning. 

You went to open your door but it didn’t budge. You began shoving it with both your hands, but the stupid thing was jammed. 

“Shit. Ron told me he fixed that damn thing for good,” he said annoyed. Just another thing added to the long list of shit he had to do.

You turned back to him in your seat, your face turning red when you got the idea of climbing over him to get out his door instead. 

Before Hopper noticed what you were doing, your hand was on his arm and you were crawling over to him from your seat. 

“What are you–” He asked in pure shock.

“Didn’t wanna inconvenience you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his as your hand rested against him. He didn’t shove you off or jump out of the truck to get away from you. Your eyes lingered up to his and you could see the darkness spread across him. His look intimidated you, sending a rush of heat right to your core. 

You gained enough courage to continue on and climbed up onto his lap, awkwardly holding his chest for balance as you slid on top of him. There wasn’t much room so your body was forced close to his. He still didn’t say anything. It was making you nervous. 

You grabbed his door handle and you were about to push it open and step off of him and onto the road when you felt his large hands grip your waist. You looked over at him and saw the way his pupils were blown and his breathing was deeper than before. 

He yanked you down fully onto his lap prying a gasp from your lips. You sat, half-straddling him, and speechless. 

Hopper came back to his senses all at once and released you, his hands falling to the side of his thighs before looking back at you in what appeared to be shock and horror. 

You were so fucking right, Hopper was into you. 

Your hands gripped his button-up uniform top as you looked at him with hooded eyes, unwilling to leave your spot on top of him. 

Hopper’s chest was falling up and down in heavy breaths, his eyes searching yours as you held onto him like you were afraid he was going to shove you off. 

He began to realize that you were okay with what he just did and you were now begging him to continue through your pouting lips and fluttering eyelashes. 

One of his hands braved exploration and slid up your warm thigh leaving goosebumps in its wake. You took a sharp breath in at his touch. “Hopper…” Your voice was barely audible as your head spun from his intoxicating stare. You felt him begin to harden underneath you, his eyes searching yours for a response. With that, you crashed your lips against his, his mustache tickling your nose, wasting no time kissing you back. His other hand was under his jacket you wore and clutched onto your hip, pulling you towards him. 

The amount of awful thoughts he’d had about you made him worry he wouldn’t be able to control himself when you stepped into his truck. It was why he tried so hard to avoid you whenever you were around. The temptation dripped off of him as he held you, knowing he was past the point of return. He couldn’t stop now. 

He effortlessly pulled your weight down onto his lap, pressing you up against his growing bulge. You whined, the feeling of him against your core was making you wet beyond belief. His hands were large against you, he was able to hold most of your thigh in one hand as he squeezed it. You knocked his hat off as your hands came up to wrap around his neck while you kissed him, pushing your chest against his. 

One of his hands slid between your bodies and under your skirt, his finger brushing against your soaking panties, making you jump. You momentarily pulled away from the kiss to let out a yelp as he began dragging his fingers back and forth. 

His lip kicked up in a slight smirk as he watched you squirm on top of him, your weight rolling into his hand needily. He pushed your underwear aside and let one finger slide around your hole, then he gently pushed in. 

You bit your lip, his eyes never leaving yours. His finger filled you and when he began to slide a second one in, he was met with some resistance. His fingers were large and easy enough to fill you, how on earth was he going to fit his–

Hopper was pondering the same question, his throbbing cock begging to escape his pants at the thought of how tight you were. 

His fingers slid out of you, desperate to find release inside you. You hiked your skirt up so he could see the way your thigh billowed at the sides as his hand squeezed it. His hands left you to unbuckle his pants, awkwardly pushing up against you as he slid them down just enough for his length to spring out. You licked your lips and reached down, gripping his cock in your hand. You almost couldn't wrap your entire fingers around him; you always knew he was big. 

You wanted him so fucking pathetically right now. Your hands held his shoulders as his own shoved your skirt up then grabbed his cock in one hand and shifted your panties to the side with his other. He lined himself up with you as you dripped in wetness, eagerly waiting. 

He looked up at you, his eyes hungry with lust, his intense expression sending shivers up your spine. You slowly sank down on him, taking in his tip. You squeaked, already feeling like he wasn’t going to fit. His eyes shut, preventing himself from grabbing your hips and forcing you down to take him in all at once. 

You slowly sank down further until you bottomed out, both of your breathing loud. 

“Fuck,” he cursed. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he throbbed inside you, pressing against your cervix. Your skirt was hiked up above your belly button and his hands crawled up to your exposed waist. He lifted you up off him with such ease, wanting you to take him in again. With a loud moan from both of you, he guided you back down, small shocks of pain radiating through you at the quickness of his actions. You began to move on your own, slowly riding him up and down, your head bending towards his to avoid hitting the roof of his truck. 

The pain of him stretching you out soon subsided and was replaced with pangs of pleasure. You picked up speed, your bodies sloppily colliding. “Jesus,” he growled. “You’re, ugh–so–fucking–tight,” he managed to get out between grunts. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you towards him as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, shifting the angle so his cock hit right at your g-spot each time he filled you up. 

You began to let out soft whimpers, Hopper’s guttural growls masking the sounds you were making. You leaned forward, clinging on to him, your face buried in his neck and shirt as you continued to ride him. Your soft cries filled Hopper’s ear making him twitch inside you. 

His arms wrapped around you and held you close. Your legs were starting to give out, your pace slowing. Filled with impatience at how slow you were going now, Hopper’s hand found his seat lever and pulled it, sending you both backward as it extended to an almost horizontal position. You were momentarily confused as to what he was doing until he rolled you over in one swift motion so you laid underneath him. Your legs widened so he could fit comfortably between them and he began thrusting into you. You squealed as he pounded into you with such force, you were certain his truck was rattling to the waves of Hopper’s thrusts. Your arms extended over your head and clutched the wall of his truck to help hold you in place as he forcefully slid into you time and time again. He was cursing against your lips before his forehead connected with yours. His breath was hot against you as he panted. 

You felt yourself getting dangerously close. In a small voice you spoke, “Hopper, I’m…Gonna–”

He continued to fuck into you, your legs as far apart as they could be, wanting him to hit you as deeply as he could. “Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck,” he swore, his cock twitching inside you as he thrusted. In a loud groan, you felt him begin to spill into you, sending you over the edge as well. You mewled under him, your legs shaking as he kept his speed, his cock sending spurts of hot liquid into you. His hands roamed your body, not able to touch enough of you as he came. One of his hands came up and rested on the side of your cheek and partially in your hair, pulling in into his fist. Your name pooled off his tongue as he gave one last deep release inside you, his thrusts beginning to slow now. You panted under his weight as he came to a stop. He collapsed on top of you, both of your faces covered in sweat. Liquid dripped out of you as he gently pulled out. He was out of breath as he grabbed you into his arms and rolled you both over so you were laying on him instead. 

After laying there in heavy breathing filled silence, he began to sit up, taking you with him as he did. You sat on his thighs as he shimmied his pants back around his waist and let his seat swing back to its usual position. 

A small wave of fear-filled Hopper’s newly cleared mind. “You’re eighteen…Right?” 

You giggled, “If I say yes, does that mean we can do this again?”

His eyes widened before you began climbing off of him. “I’m kidding,” you said, dragging your words out. “I’m eighteen, you idiot.” 

Hopper let his thoughts untangle themself before he turned to you. “We probably shouldn’t do this again. I shouldn’t have even let this happen tonight.” How was he going to face your father the next time he saw him without remembering the way you looked when you rode him tonight?

You jumped out of his truck, leaning against his lap as you stood on the pavement. “Okay. We won’t do this again then,” you said with a shit-eating grin. You knew Hopper wouldn’t be able to resist you now, so it didn’t matter what he said. He watched you walk towards your house, your skirt flowing back and forth as you walked. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in his fists as he already felt himself begin to get hard again watching the way his jacket looked on you as it engulfed your small frame. 

bonus gif [yes it’s actually d.h.]

part 2

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

[ronancebible]

lessons learned {steve harrington x f!reader & robin buckley x f!reader}

Summary: Oblivious Steve, for some weird reason, refuses to believe you're not a virgin, so you play along. This is 3 times he's almost caught you in the lie and 1 time he did. 5.5k words

A/N: I gotta warn y'all, this is pure fucking filth. This is nothing other than an excuse to write the some of the most self serving, filthy fanfic out there. There is also very brief Hopper x Reader in this. Also, I am not changing Robin's sexuality! Steve and Robin do not interact sexually in this (you're in between them ;) ).

Warnings: Brief mention of smoking weed and drinking, masturbation, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex... use your imagination :)

You breathed deeply as you ran your hands over your clothed center. Your fingers came back damp, your panties already soaked through without you even having touched yourself. God, Steve made you crazy. You quickly thought through all the cards in your Rolodex, trying to think of someone that would come quickly to take care of you, but the sight of Steve, shirtless and sweaty, mowing the lawn across the street quickly banished any thought of getting someone else involved. You needed it dirty, and you needed it now.

You whimpered quietly as you watched sweat drip down Steve’s strong back, and began rubbing yourself firmly over your panties. You loved this part, the anticipation and the carnal need, how dirty it was to be so desperate you couldn’t even bother pulling your clothes off.

Your eyes quickly slipped shut as you imagined running your soaked pussy over Steve’s chest, getting yourself off while all he could do was watch helplessly, whining as his hips rutted into the air fruitlessly.

You picked up the pace, moaning wantonly now as you shifted and rammed yourself onto the corner of the couch cushion. The couch creaked quietly as you rocked your hips back and forth over the firm seam, and your moans got breathier as the heat in your lower belly pooled. You were sure there was a new stain on the couch you would have to deal with later, but right now, all you could worry about was how Steve would sound when he—

“(Y/N)?” you heard Steve call, the door creaking open simultaneously.

Frantically, you flipped over, fixing your panties and sitting squarely over what you were sure was a very noticeable wet spot on the couch.

“Yeah?” you answered, your voice wrecked and breathy. “In here.”

Steve came into the room, shirt replaced, though his sweaty hair was enough to make your neglected core ache.

Steve wrinkled his nose. “It smells like sex in here.”

You chuckled nervously, trying your very best not to wiggle yourself against the couch again. He needed to leave. Now.

“I wonder why,” you replied nonchalantly, turning your attention to the TV that you forgot had been on.

Steve laughed, saying, “Yeah, you’re right. I mean, it’s just the 20 year old virgin home alone. Not like anything crazy would be going on.”

That was another thing. Steve, completely without basis, was convinced you had never had sex in your life. You were also pretty sure that he didn’t know girls got themselves off. He couldn’t be more wrong. You knew you were the town slut, and you took pride in that title. You just knew how to keep your business to yourself. If he knew some of the people you had slept with, his limp, sweaty hair would curl into ringlets. He was just so oblivious that he never picked up on any of it.

You just chuckled drily and shook your head, not confirming, but not denying.

———

You were so warm, and so turned on, and not exactly sure how you wound up in this situation. You could hear Hopper’s voice in your ear, egging you on as you whimpered and made a mess of his uniform pants.

You vaguely remember seeing him at the bar, neither one of you drunk enough to really enjoy the atmosphere. You were too blissed out to be sure how you made it to his car, but you didn’t care at all, because just then Hopper started bouncing his leg, mumbling a deep “Good girl,” in your ear before you came, trembling, and soaking his pants through to the skin.

He didn’t let up, slipping his hands under your skirt and easily slipping two thick fingers into you, making you see stars with how sensitive you were. You let out a wrecked moan, already feeling another orgasm building as his fingers brushed up against every electric point inside you.

“Please,” you whimpered in the chief’s ear, before he roughly undid his belt and pulled out his dick (which was so large and looked so delicious, all you could manage was an open-mouthed keen). Without thinking twice, you seated yourself on him and let out a loud moan, your voice cracking.

Please let this be a long night, you thought.

The next morning, you found yourself in his car again, only this time in the passenger seat. Once Hopper pulled up to your place, you quickly thanked him for the ride, giving him a smile and pat on the thigh (god those thighs, that not even 30 minutes prior you had gotten incredibly messy yet again) before hopping out of his Hawkins PD station wagon, adjusting your gait as you walked. What? He was a large man. 

I must have famously bad luck, you thought, as you noticed Steve sitting on the porch of the small house you two shared. His brow was drawn into a tight, worried expression as he stood up to meet you at the front door. 

“Hey, what happened? Why did you not come home? Why is the Chief dropping you off?” He asked, rapid-fire.

You sighed, turning to face Steve. You decided on a half-truth.

“Relax, I just went out last night and spent the night on that side of town. He offered me a ride when I told him where I was going,” you said.

Steve squinted at you before nodding reluctantly. 

“Just call next time. If I didn’t know you any better, I would’ve thought you were out having a one-night stand,” he chuckled.

Your face reddened at the thought of last night's activities, and you awkwardly chuckled, which Steve thankfully took as embarrassment rather than guilt.

You weren’t sure exactly why you didn’t want Steve to know that you slept around. In fact, given the opportunity, you would gladly take that man to bed as much as he wanted. It just felt like a separate sphere of life, one that might change your relationship with him. He was a really great friend and a cool dude, but he was raised by traditional parents, and you weren’t sure how he might react to finding out that sex was your favorite pasttime. Plus, the company you kept wasn’t exactly the most traditional either, if you thought to last night with Hopper. And a few nights ago with Robin. And last week with Karen Wheeler.

Steve just thumped you on the back and said, “Glad you’re good.”

———

Robin had to be your favorite person to sleep with, you thought idly as you watched her spin the bottle across the circle from you.

Okay, you were a little drunk. But sadly, you were a horny drunk, and the way Robin was pulling her bottom lip between her teeth right now made you want to drag her into another room and make her forget her name. You shifted slightly in place at the thought.

You and Robin were two peas in a pod. She was your best friend, along with Steve, only she knew more details of your private life and frequently participated in it. Being best friends made it even better, as you could basically sleep with her whenever either of you wanted. All it took was a certain glance at a sleepover and you’d be coaxing orgasms out of each other till dawn.

As much as you wanted this night to be the same, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve had joined the party, booze and pizza in tow. After a few drinks, someone (read: Steve) wanted to play truth or dare to “spice things up.”

Right out the gate, the game was promising to be either unbearable or incredibly fun. The first question, directed to Jonathan and asked by Robin, had been if he’d slept with anyone other than Nancy. Both of their faces red, Jonathan had mumbled a quick “no,” before quickly turning to Steve and asked him who his favorite kiss was. It was then Steve’s turn to blush deeply, eyes flicking over to Nancy briefly before he answered, “Tammy Thompson,” which everyone knew was a bald-faced lie.

Many rounds later, everyone was pleasantly drunk and the questions slowly turned more salacious, leaving them all flushed and hot under the collar. Steve had popped open his shirt nearly down to his stomach, and you were having a hard time not staring at his chest and barely containing your drool.

“(Y/N),” Steve sang, turning to you. You swallowed drily, blushing furiously as you looked up from his chest.

“Hmm?” you replied. “My turn?”

“Your turn,” Steve confirmed, eyes flicking curiously over your face. He settled at your eyes and grinned.

“If you could lose your virginity to anyone in this room, who would it be?” he asked.

Immediately, everyone else in the room pulled a confused face. Robin’s head snapped around to look at you so quickly, you worried she was going to hurt herself. She had a deeply confused frown on her face, no doubt thinking of the previous night, which was anything but virginal. 

Nancy had a similar look on her face. You and she had never really slept together, but in freshman year of high school you had taught her to masturbate with a, erm—hands-on approach. She was no doubt remembering the same when she cocked her head at you in silent question.

You had never done anything with Jonathan, but even he seemed privy to more details of your private life than Steve. He looked over at Nancy questioningly, attempting to draw an answer out of her.

Steve was clueless to their expressions, though, as he looked over at you with a grin, thinking he had pinned you down in a revealing question.

Nancy started to open her mouth, seemingly to protest Steve’s assumption, but you cut her off with a gentle look.

“Who says I haven’t, Harrington?” you teased lightly.

Steve rolled his eyes, huffing a breath. “Yeah, right. Miss prude having sex? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Robin barely suppressed a snort, covering it up with a cough when Steve looked over at her curiously.

You sighed. At this point, he would be clueless forever.

———

It had been two weeks since you and Robin had sex. Between late shifts at work and visiting family out of town and Steve never giving you a chance to breathe, you hadn’t gotten a chance to do anything together.

Tonight would change that.

You and Robin were on very clear terms on what your friendship meant. You two were truly a testament to successful friends with benefits. You were able to hang out normally without it being weird or either of you expecting sex. She truly was your best friend, even without the fucking.

But, oh my god was the fucking amazing. And you did it kind of a lot. It started very stereotypically, honestly. Probably just like every lesbian friends with benefits situation out there.

First, it had been practice kissing when you were both 16. Then it just turned into a few makeout sessions. It was exactly the kind of cute, awkward making out every teenager does. After that though, you stopped anything non-platonic for a few years when Robin had an outrageous crush on some girl from work.

It had been when you were both 19, on a hot summer’s day. The heat was making you horny out of your mind, and Robin wasn’t taking the hint to leave so you could fuck your brains out with the toy under your mattress. Turns out you hadn’t had to. Robin had nervously said it was too hot and she was going to take her top off. Half a joint and a broken fan later, both of you just were down to panties, playing a glorified game of chicken. You had tried not to notice how soaked you both were, just in case you were misunderstanding, but eventually Robin made the first move.

“I’ve always wanted to suck on some tits,” she had said finally, seeming fed up with your inability to make a move. She scooted forward on the couch, clenching her thighs conspicuously.

Fucking Christ, finally, you had thought, before saying, “Good thing, because I’ve always wanted you to suck my tits.”

Robin had chuckled then, a smile lighting up her eyes as she leaned in. The rest is pretty much history (in your eyes, anyway).

Tonight, Robin was coming over and Steve was going to be out for the night. You were both very clear that you would be spending the night doing just about anything other than sleeping. You had laid out some weed (nothing too crazy; you still needed to be sober enough) on the coffee table, along with snacks and water. You had put down blankets and pillows all over the living room floor because you two had a tendency not to make it to your bedroom, and it was just more comfortable to be prepared.

You knew you were doing a lot, but sex had become a big part of your friendship with Robin. Even non-romantically, you wanted to treat it with reverence because she was important to you.

As soon as Robin called to let you know that she was about to leave her house, you turned on the TV to some random movie and started rolling joints. As soon as you finished the second one, Robin let herself in.

“Mmm, smells like weed in here!” she called from the entrance.

You laughed, “In here! I just finished rolling.”

Robin came barreling into the room, her presence larger than life and her smile equally so. She unceremoniously dropped her bag on the ground and flopped on the couch next to you, just about as close as humanly possible.

“Hi,” she smiled, reaching for the joint.

“Hi,” you replied, bypassing her hand and placing the joint in her mouth yourself, fingers brushing her lips. She sucked in a sharp breath at the touch.

You flicked the lighter, putting the flame up to the joint and watching it light, spirals of white smoke immediately floating through the room. Robin took a long pull from it, before passing it to you, placing it gently on your lips the same way you had. 

Time passed slowly as you passed the joint back and forth like that, until you were just high enough for every touch to feel incredibly pleasurable.

Eyelids just slightly heavy, you took the joint and said, “Let’s shotgun this one.”

Robin smiled lightly, immediately nodding and leaning in. You took a long pull from the joint, letting it settle in your mouth. Then, you slowly leaned in and breathed it into Robin’s mouth as she inhaled.

Your lips brushed softly, and you dropped the pretense, abandoning the shotgun only halfway through the hit. You surged the little bit of distance further and claimed her lips with your own, sighing into her mouth almost immediately.

Her kiss, as always, was electric. As much as you loved sex, kissing was a whole other world. The soft slide of Robin’s lips against your own, the taste of her chapstick, the little noises that escaped both your mouths, the insistence with which you both leaned into each other—it was all intoxicating. You took Robin’s bottom lip between your own, sucking into your mouth and pulling before letting it pop back into place. Robin whimpered, pulling you flush against her, and exhaled against your mouth, her tongue teasing your lips. You gladly reciprocated, running your tongue against her bottom lip as you tangled your fingers in her hair. 

After what might have been hours of mindless making out, the intoxicating slide of swollen lips over each other, and endlessly wandering hands, you became acutely aware of the rest of Robin’s body. Your core was practically dripping onto the couch through your sweatpants.

Robin was wearing a ribbed tank top with seemingly nothing underneath, if the color and peak of her nipples through the shirt were to tell you anything. You moaned at the sight, diving down and mouthing at her tits through the fabric. Robin let out a gasp, arching into your mouth as you progressively got her tank wetter. You barely came up for air, reveling in the light mewls that escaped her mouth as you continued your ministrations.

“(Y/N),” Robin moaned, scrabbling at your clothing, trying to find purchase to get you closer to her. You pushed her down onto the couch, a whine escaping her as you briefly separated from her chest to take another hit off the joint.

“Shhhh,” you said, gently easing your knee between her thighs and lifting her tank for direct contact with her nipples. Robin moaned as she ground herself against your knee. You smiled, latching back onto her nipple and increasing the volume of her moans tenfold. It was moments like these that made you so glad you no longer lived in an apartment.

It took you about 30 seconds to notice Steve in the doorway.

You looked up from Robin’s chest, and there he was, eyes wide and frozen in place. You slowly lifted off Robin, who whined at the loss before noticing Steve, as well.

It was like a stare-off between the three of you, you and Robin slowly inching away from each other while Steve stood there with a completely bewildered look on his face.

“Since when do you fuck?” he asked, voice disbelieving.

You blinked. “Since, like, 16, Steve.”

Steve’s jaw dropped impossibly lower. “And since when do you fuck girls?”

“Since 16,” you answered drily.

“And since when do you fuck Robin?!” he nearly yelled.

“Like all the time since nearly 2 years ago,” Robin piped in, clearly enjoying the scene in front of her.

“And how do you get her to moan like that?” Steve said, voice cracking as he looked between the two of you.

You paused.

“Girls don’t moan when you fuck them?” you asked.

Steve sighed, almost a whine, as he pulled his fingers through his hair. He was really flushed, you noticed.

“I mean, a little, but not like that. Not like they want it so bad,” he muttered.

“Everyone reacts differently, Steve. It’s not really a guarantee that everyone moans like I do,” Robin said, barely bothering to cover herself. 

Steve laughed mirthlessly. “I promise you, I have never had a girl react like that to me.”

You clucked lightly, turning toward Robin. “Isn’t he supposed to be the sex god of Hawkins?”

“I am!” Steve protested. “It’s just—I’ve never done anything like that.”

You smiled lightly. “It’s okay, Steve. Girls just know each other’s bodies better. Speaking of which, you said you wouldn’t be home tonight. And I still want to capitalize on that time,” you said, raising your eyebrows to get him to take a hint. At the same time, Robin shifted into your lap, smiling over her shoulder at Steve, making the same face as you.

For a minute, Steve was glued there. You could hear his heavy breathing, and you could see his flushed face and how his eyes darted between you and Robin, mentally mapping everything he saw. Holy shit. He was turned on.

Your gaze flicked toward Robin, who was obviously noticing the same thing. When she turned back to you, you quirked an eyebrow in silent conversation.

You saw Robin realize what you were asking and turn it over in her head.

“Could be hot,” she whispered to you. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Robin squinted at both of you. Then, she smiled and said, “As long as he doesn’t, like, fuck me or anything. I’m still a lesbian.”

You nodded, grinning wolfishly. You turned to look at Steve, who was still glued to his spot, looking between the two of you confusedly. You laid on the charm.

“I can… teach you,” you suggested casually, as if you didn’t want to take the two of them at the same time more than anything in the world. “You know… how to make girls moan like that.” Steve’s jaw dropped, but he stayed there.

“But, I know you’re a visual learner, so you have to come over here,” you prompted, wiggling impatiently against the seam of your sweatpants.

Steve seemed to snap out of it quickly, grinning as he made his way over to the couch and sitting next to you on the floor.

“Let’s start with the basics,” you said, leaning down and flicking your tongue over Robin’s nipple, eliciting a startled gasp. Steve took a ragged breath. “What do you typically do?”

Steve’s eyes were locked on your tongue as it danced over Robin’s tits, waiting for his response.

“I, um… typically start with kissing. You know, making out. Running my hands over her body. Then once she seems like she’s, uh, ready… I’ll put my hand down her pants,” Steve started.

You and Robin’s eyes both snapped to him. He noticed, furrowing his brow looking between you two.

“What? What is it?” he asked, frowning.

“There’s your first problem,” Robin said.

You nodded. “Steve, girls are very different from guys when it comes to pleasure. For most guys, it’s literally like a switch. You’re turned on, and all you have to do is pull on your dick.”

You shifted, simultaneously running your hands over Robin’s naked torso while talking to Steve. Robin let out a little shudder.

“You see,” you continued, “women are like… running a warm bath. You can’t just start the faucet and put the plug in, or you’re going to end up with just a lukewarm bath. You have to let the tap run, let it heat up, so that you get a hot bath. Women are like that. You have to get them sufficiently warmed up so that they really enjoy it.”

While you were talking, Robin wiggled under your hands, trying to maneuver them where she wanted them most. She let out little whines when your fingers trailed over her nipples.

“You see?” you asked, turning to Steve. He nodded, completely in the zone, his eyes mapping the movements of your hands and flickering up to Robin’s face to revel in her pleasure. Robin laughed lightly when their eyes met. 

“Focus on (Y/N), Harrington,” Robin joked. Steve let out a shy chuckle, turning back to you.

“Good. Now try on me,” you said, pausing your ministrations on Robin momentarily to tug off your small top. Your tits puckered in the open air. Steve’s mouth was open as he drank in the sight of them.

He reached out and grabbed your waist. He dragged his fingers across your skin with an expertise you weren’t expecting. You shuddered as his fingers trailed on the swell of your underboob, letting your eyes slip shut as his touch ran over a nipple.

After a minute or so of you and Robin breathing heavily as hands ran across your bodies, you said, “Good. Hold on.”

Steve’s hands left your body and your eyes opened again. You continued running your hands over Robin, going lower and lower with each pass. In between words, you sucked at her nipples, earning a low moan every time.

“What do you do when you’re in her pants?” you said.

“I rub around a little bit. You know, the clit or whatever. Then I’ll typically finger her for a few minutes until we fuck,” Steve said, his voice cracking.

You shook your head and sighed, “Wrong again, Steve-O. The vast majority of girls don’t get off from fucking. They need their clit played with to come. If they’re not moaning like Robin was, you’re just not giving them what they need, which is pretty constant clit stimulation. Like this.”

You pushed your hand against Robin’s shorts over the spot you knew she liked. She let out a sudden moan, long and low, at something finally connecting with her clit. You rubbed slow and hard over that spot, torn between watching Robin’s face, screwed up and moaning, and Steve’s face, flushed a deep red and nearly panting at the sight.

You grew impatient at the instruction, just wanting to fuck either one of them until you got off several times. Robin’s shorts got pulled down rather roughly as a result.

She let out a broken yell as you buried your face in her cunt, lapping at her clit mercilessly. Steve let out a choked off grunt at the sight. You repositioned yourself and raised your ass in the air in front of him, breaking away from your favorite feast for just a second to murmur, “Do what I’m doing.”

Steve leapt at the permission, pulling your sweatpants down to reveal a glistening and already soaked pussy and inner thighs.

You were surprised when he licked at your thighs and lips first, seemingly cleaning up the mess you made of yourself. You moaned deep into Robin’s center at the feeling, who in turn let out a surprised yell at the vibrations. You switched to sucking Robin’s clit and quickly lifted your hand to tease her entrance, egged on by both people on either end of you.

You slipped a finger into Robin, shallow and curled upward, stroking the spot inside her you knew would make her legs start to shake as Steve finally licked a hot stripe through your folds, his tongue probing for your clit. 

“D-down a little,” you managed to say as Robin’s hands tightly gripped your hair, her moans getting progressively louder as you turned your head to the side for a new angle. 

Steve found what he was looking for and licked at it relentlessly, inspiring heavy moans of your own to reverberate through Robin’s core. 

The three of you continued like that for a few minutes more, the room steadily filling with wet sounds of mouth against cunt and increasingly loud and breathy moans. 

Steve was a quick learner, you had to admit. His onslaught of tongue and lips against you had your knees getting weak under you, but he grabbed your hips and hoisted them higher, granting him better access. 

Surprisingly, you felt an orgasm building quicker than you would have expected. Steve took your clit into his mouth, lips pursed to suck, and gave a long pull, simultaneously easing two fingers in your soaked hole. You keened against Robin, heat pooling unbearably in your lower belly, and slipped two more fingers into her. Her walls clamped down around your hand, and she threw her head back in pants as she chanted, “Close, close, I’m so close, please (Y/N), fuck, please please please—”

You didn’t stop, didn’t relent, continuing your ministrations against her until you felt her walls clamp and flutter around your fingers and she let out a loud, high-pitched moan, sure to wake the neighbors. You worked her through it, stroking against her favorite spot inside and lightly licking her clit. Robin continued moaning, practically on the verge of yelling, as she pinched and rolled her nipples through her fingers until she was completely spent, limp against the couch cushions.

You had felt Steve stop momentarily as he watched Robin finish with awe. His fingers had stilled inside you, and you let out a frustrated growl, pushing back against him.

“Lesson number 3, Steve. When a girl tells you she’s close, you don’t slow down, you don’t speed up, you keep doing exactly what you’re doing, even if it kills you,” you said, flipping over onto your back and breaking him out of his trance. You reclined against Robin’s naked body, feeling her heave under you as Steve dipped his head back down to your center.

What he had lacked in knowledge, he made up for in enthusiasm. It was clear to you that while he may not have known exactly how to make a girl scream, he had certainly tried. Now, with that enthusiasm and new instruction imparted upon him, he was unstoppable. He lapped at your clit relentlessly, stroking at a spot inside you that made your toes curl and he ripped a truly embarrassing moan out of your mouth. 

Robin, now recovered, pulled your hair out of the way and turned your head toward her, pulling you into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered into her mouth as you felt yourself approaching the edge. 

The sight below you only served to egg you on. Steve was absolutely buried in your pussy, his whole lower face glistening with your juices. He was whimpering lightly, too, gently fucking into the couch through his jeans. 

“Stevie, Steve, oh my god,” you breathed, fisting your fingers through his hair. “I’m almost there, please, fuck, please keep going.” 

He continued his exact motions, moaning into you at the sound of your voice.

With a high-pitched keen, you fell over the edge, clamping your thighs around his ears. You screwed your eyes shut, fucking up into Steve’s face to prolong the feeling, with Robin behind you sucking bruises into your neck. She reached around and pushed two fingers into your mouth, trying to quiet your ear-piercing moans. You gleefully licked and sucked around them, using the action as an outlet as your orgasm surged through you still. 

Once you had come down, panting heavily as Steve nuzzled your inner thighs, you wasted no time in dragging him up to your face and taking his mouth in a bruising kiss. He moaned into your mouth as you deftly undid his belt. 

It was honestly impressive, the speed with which you got his pants off and took him in your hand, pumping quickly as you lined him up with your entrance. 

“Go on,” you whispered in his ear sweetly. “If you ask nicely, I’m sure Robin will help you get another one out of me.”

Steve groaned as he pushed into you, the intrusion familiar and welcome and making you moan loudly. 

“Please,” he breathed, his eyes squeezed shut. “Robin, please.”

Robin chuckled breathlessly, nodding as she brought her hands around your front, rubbing in firm, tight circles over your clit, exactly how she knew you liked it. Underneath you, you could feel her doing the same to herself, trying to bring herself off at the same time as you and Steve. 

You knew none of you would last long as Steve started thrusting into you earnestly. While Steve may have had a little trouble with foreplay, he sure knew how to use his hips. You moaned wantonly as his thrusts snapped into the most sensitive spots inside you, feeling yourself once again get close to the edge. Both Robin’s hands sped up, and her moans in your ear egged you on. Steve’s breaths turned ragged as his hips started to stutter. 

You came first, with a weak tremble as your body eked out the last bits of pleasure it could. You moaned loudly, turning and capturing Robin in a searing kiss as your legs seized and walls clamped onto Steve. 

Steve was next, snapping his hips into you with a brusque finality as he gave a vocal grunt, spilling into you and dropping his head on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair in a manner you hoped was soothing as he panted into your chest. 

Robin was last, giving a pleased sigh and kissing up your neck as her free arm tightened around you.

All three of you lay, practically boneless, trying to catch your breath. 

“This whole time, I thought you were a virgin,” Steve muttered disbelievingly. 

Robin chuckled. “Yeah, you were a little slow on the uptake there, buddy.”

“Sooo…. that morning the Chief drove you home…?” Steve asked, trailing off. 

You snorted. “Yes, Steve.”

Steve pulled a face. “And how the hell did you bag Karen Wheeler?”

“Oh, that one’s easy. Ted doesn’t know his head from his ass,” Robin replied, stroking her fingers through your hair. 

“And does Nance know you’ve slept with her mother?” Steve teased. 

You swatted his arm. “No. And she will never know,” you said threateningly. 

Steve propped his chin up on your chest to meet your eyes. You softened, a goofy smile overtaking your face. 

“Good lesson?” you asked softly. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “If the noises you were making count for anything, I’d say so.” After a pause, “Although, I daresay I could use more practice.”

You suppressed a grin. “You know, you could use more practice. Robin’s still better than you and I’m sure you won’t stand for that.

“I will not, you’re right. Prepare to be overtaken, Buckley,” Steve wagged a finger in her face. 

“Count me out, Harrington. This was fun, but I’m still as gay as they come. And don’t you dare go stealing my fuck buddy,” Robin warned, squinting at Steve. 

Steve laughed, making eye contact with you. “We’ll have to see about that.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x you #steve harrington x you #robin buckley #robin x reader #robin buckley x reader #robin x you #robin buckey x you #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #only briefly though! #my writing #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #smut #stranger things smut

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

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

PART TWO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopper forced a polite smile onto his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #hopper smut #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #david harbour #stranger things smut #stranger things #perv!hopper #perv!jim hopper #jim hopper x fem!reader #hopper x fem reader #hopper x reader #hopper x you #hopper x y/n #hopper angst #Jim hopper angst #stranger things angst #dark!hopper #dark!jim hopper #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #Jim hopper fanfiction #hopper x reader smut #hopper x you smut #Jim hopper x reader smut #hopper x y/n smut #Jim hopper x y/n smut #chief jim hopper

[medium-rare-bimbo]

Stepdad hopper!!

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

Contains: stepcest, dubcon, age gap, cheating

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ your mother hadnt been home as much as he wanted her to be meaning he had a lot of pent up needs that he needed to release :(( his hand wasnt soft enough to give him the feeling he wants, his rough callous hands would pump his cock for hours yet still be unsatisfied not to mention the playboy magazines didnt compare to a real womens body

♡ he would be lying if he said he didnt like you before the blue balls hit in fact he had these perverted thoughts as soon as his eyes laid upon you and your short dress and frilly socks, your doe eyes peering up at him as your mother introduced you both, the quiver of your lip as you watched him stalk closer, taking in his entire form

♡ hed be lying if he said he didnt think about you when he slept with your mother. Hed be lying if he said he just saw you as a daughter. Hed be lying if he said he didnt listen to you touch yourself. Hed be a bigger liar if he said he didnt watch you through the gap in your door.

♡ he comes home, angry, a bad day with bad people, he sees you all cute and pretty wearing his favourite sundress with the pink frilly apron he got you. He cant help himself, his instincts are practically howling at him to pick you up and force his cock inside you

♡ you turn to him, wide eyes a smile on your face as you grab the plate of cookies you had made earlier in the day, unsurprisingly your mother is nowhere to be found so it's just you and him in the house

♡ "hey kid where's your mom?"

"mom said she would be home late, something about work and paper, so I made dinner for us! I made cookies too but you can only have one right now, I dont want you to ruin your appetite"

♡ god how he loved you, always taking care of him like the good girl you are, making sure he eats, making sure he gets to work on time, checking up on him, asking how his day was. He adored you <3

"What are we having?"

♡ he pulls out a chair, ready to sit at the dinner table until you stop him

"We can sit in the living room! Mom isnt here so she cant tell us what to do OH! and we're having chicken alfredo"

♡ your eyes crease as you smile at him looking for approval as you peered up at your stepfather, he smiled back, a small smile but a smile nonetheless. He grabbed a cookie, muttering a thank you before popping it in his mouth as he walked to the living room

" you- um you can take a shower if youd like, um-the food wont be done until later a-and you can be all clean before you eat"

♡ you meek voice called out to him shaking with nerves as you talk to him. He huffed out a laugh and nodded his head, turning to head up stairs behind him, he heard your sigh in satisfaction as you watch the big man clamber up the stairs

♡ he groaned as the water hit his tensed muscles, the stress from his body leaving as the warm water came down on him. He was tempted to touched his cock but he feared that he wouldnt be able to control the noises that croaked out of him, despite all his fantasies he didnt want you to come into the bathroom thinking he was hurt only to see his cock out

♡ he dried himself before cursing realising he forgot his clothes. Hopper wrapped the towel around his waist before calling out to you

"Y/N! can you get me some clothes I forgot to grab them"

♡ he heard you shout in confirmation as he leaned back against the bathroom sink. Hearing your footsteps he trotted closer to the door prepared for your hand to shoot in with his clothes, instead the door opened and you stood there with his folded clothes. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed trying to stutter out a response as your face heated up

"I- um- I- okay"

♡ His giant body loomed over yours as you stood frozen in place, staring at this god of a man. Droplets of water dripped down from his neck to his chest going lower and lower until they hit the towel hanging low on his hips.

"'Okay'? Can I have my clothes now?"

"YES- I mean um yes here you go"

♡ you didnt walk away as he grabbed them though, you watched as he took them from your hands, his finger brushing over yours. He stared you down like prey wating for you to do something. the moral part of him wanted you to leave but another part wanted you to act on the thoughts swirling around your head

"Are you going to leave?"

"Yeah I just um- yeah.."

♡ you made no attempt to move too busy gawking at him to hear him properly.

"If you keep standing there you'll have to see things you wont be able to unsee"

♡ that seemed to snap you out of whatever daze you were stuck in, your eyes flicking up to his face as your pupils seemed to turn into black holes. Your mouth trembled as you tried to blurt out anything that came to mind but the thoughts were unholy and youd ruin your mothers relationship if you spoke them

♡ he lurked closer to you letting you smell the musk of his newly fresh body, your thighs pressed together drawing his eyes toward them, Hopper stared down at you reaching his hand to your shoulder and placing it there.

"Are you going to be a good girl and leave?"

♡ You nodded yet still made no attempt to move, breathless and lust driven. He scoffed as you stood still, backing away and unfolding his clothes. Before you could process what was about to happen the towel dropped and in all its glory stood his semi hard cock, He pulled his boxers on and then his pants smiling to himself as your eyes continued to eat him.

♡ he while putting on his shirt he heard a quivering murmur leave your mouth to which he looked at you, staring at you as if asking you to repeat what you said

"I didn't say anything I just- i was thinking out loud"

"Thinking out loud? About what?"

"I um... i cant say"

♡ he huffed out a laugh rolling his eyes

"We're both adults here you can say what you want I wont take offense"

"I um.."

"Go on baby.. repeat what you said"

"I said.. I said my mothers a lucky women"

♡your voiced phased out by the end but he xouldnt care less he understood what you whispered perfectly. His skin prickled with excitement he had been waiting for this day, waiting for you to say something.

"Really? You wanna play house then?"

"I- what"

"You can be mommy and I'll be daddy how about that?"

"I'd love to but I dont think-"

♡ Hopper cuts you off with his lips, silencing anything that came out of your mouth after "id love to", his arms wrapping around your body holding you against him.

♡ he breaks the kiss, pushing you against the wall and once again slamming his lips into yours, stopping any noise from exiting, his moustache scratched your face as you clawed your way at him look for something to steady yourself with, teeth, tongues and spit collided with eachother as he claimed your mouth. Your legs wrapping around his waist as he encased your body

♡ his hands inched their way between your thighs grazing up and down the soft skin, slowly but surely working his way to the pantie covered mound. Hopper circled the area where your neglected clit lay, a single finger swirled around your most sensitive area.

♡ he let your hips jerk up for more stimulation (hed have to teach you some manners later) his bear like hands made their way to the middle of your panties feeling the wet spot your juices had left behind. He groaned into your mouth, an animal like snarl as he pried and groped at your most private part of your body

♡ his cock ground into your thigh the thickness of his manhood pressing against your skin and all though he was wearing pants the tight confines of the fabric didnt shy away from the intimidating size of it. Your head threw itself back as you released a pornagrpahic moan

♡ pulling your panties to the side he finally feels you skin to skin, he growls as his finger get sticky from your slick. his heavy finger eased itself into you stretching the tight hole to prepare for his cock. Despite your wetness dripping from you and soaking his fingers you were still so tight compared to him.

♡ his finger swirled inside you getting a feel of the spongy walls he so desperately thought about. When he slipped his another finger inside of you it felt like a scolding knife and although the pain burned the pleasure burnt brighter, you collapsed into him head laying on his chest and arms curled up in his shirt

♡ his hand left your hole inching it's way to his pants pulling them down to release the throbbing monster attached to his body. Hopper rubbed the swollen precum coated head along you cunt feeling you juices cling to him inviting him to enter you

♡ hopper forced himself into your tight hole, stretching you so much that you dont think any man will be able to fill you the same, you could feel every vein of his thick cock, the way it pulsed as it breached your hole, the way precum leaked out of the swollen head almost begging to enter your womb. You could feel all of him and at some points you felt as if you were going to rip in two from how big he was

"Thaaats it take it for daddy baby"

♡ his thrusts started out slow, tempered and gentle letting your now ruined cunt get used to the abuse he was putting it through, each vein caught on your walls making you fall limp against him however his rhythm picked up as time went on, he was a strong man but not strong enough to control himself around you

♡ your legs are pinned to your chest by his massive hands, your calves resting on his shoulders as he pounds his thick cock up into you, each thrust faulting as he breaches your cervix, youre jolting everytime his dick twitches, his hands forcing your body into itself pressing down on the bulge in your stomach.

♡ you dont know where to put your hands too overwhelmed with the appendage abusing your cunt, your slick and juices are dripping out of your newly damaged cunt and onto hoppers balls and down his thick hairy thighs.

♡ the house is filled with moans, groans, squeals and the sound of skin smacking together but neither of you care. His entire body is encapsulating yours, his frame hanging over you as he uses you for his own pleasure

"My good girl- my- my girl- fuck-"

"DA- daddy- plEAse please please please oh god- PLEASE gentle! Be gentle y'go-gonna break me cant- cant take this! S'too muuuuch"

♡ your sobs seem to fall on deaf ears as his instincts kick in. his mouth made subtle marks on your neck the feral part of him wanted to mark you until you couldnt breath, until your neck collapses in on itself and you have no other choice but to show everyone who you belong to but.. he knows it wouldn't go over well with your mother, he knows that you would never tell her, he knows that youd lie and he knows your mother will pry pry and pry until she figures out that her husband was fucking her daughter.

"That's it baby doing so well for me- T-" he thrusts into you body harshly causing you to pathetically squeal  "TAking it so well"

♡ the noises coming from you were nothing but sounds, too cock drunk to form a sentence (not that he minded, he knew his little girl couldnt take him without getting dumb) whines and choked moans flowed out of you as he ruined you

♡ any steam from the shower didnt compare to the condensation on the mirrors your bodies were causing, You clung to eachother like velcro, feeding off of eachothers pleasure

♡ his thumb pressed against your clit swallowing it whole as he circled it like a shark. Your hips jolted as the stimulation became to much, you cried out as he picked up his pace clenching around him as you came on his cock, juices squirting onto his stomach and down his legs.

♡ hopper howled as he came. short yet harsh thrusts continued fell out of him like possessed man as he tried to get his cum as deep in you as possible.

♡ you lay in eachothers brace, still held against the wall as you tried to regain feeling in your body and mind. Praises poured out of his mouth in whispers as you fell in and out of that post orgasm feeling

♡ the jiggling of keys unfortunately broke you both out of your dream like state, hopper placed you down, pulling you underwear over your newly filled cunt before fully dressing himself. Your mother called out to the both of you but luckily she was too concerned on who left the oven on to come look for you. You steadied yourself on the wall as you walked like a newborn doe to greet your mother (hoppers orders)

♡ you stayed the rest if the night eating the, thankfully, edible chicken alfredo, occasionally your leg would jerk up as you felt hoppers thick cum leak out of you, your mother was none the wiser. he stared you down from across the table his foot playing with your ankle as you licked up the white sauce from the corners of you mouth.

#stranger things x reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #hopper smut #tw: stepcest

[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 💭

[alcottsangel]

Rotten Chapter 3 {Steve Harrington x fem!reader}

Masterlist | Soundtrack

Summary: The crew takes Y/n to the hospital and call Hopper to report the rape. What will Steve do, when he finds out who did it?

Warnings: Rape!!, cursing, blood, hospital, rape-kit, medical treatment, mentions of drugs.

last part | next part

The moment they had arrived at the hospital, there was still one question hanging in the air. Who did it?

The drive had been filled with complete silence, except for Eddies music. Steve had one hand placed on Y/n's shoulder, as if to tell her that he was still there, that she wasn't alone, and the moment the car stopped, he got out to help her out of it.

Y/n didn't unbuckle her seatbelt, she just looked at him, her eyes big with fear, and he smiled at her again, to remind her that they were doing this together.

In the hospital light Y/n's bruises could finally be seen, and Eddie gasped as he walked around the car and saw her face. There was a discoloured line on her neck. His handprint was visible, giving them an idea of the horrors Y/n had faced. There was a small cut on her chin too, it was not bleeding anymore, though her lips were. They were chapped, her dark lipstick almost completely gone, the bit that was still there smeared. Some blood had dripped onto her shirt, but it was less than Eddie had expected. How bad were her injuries down there, if they were bleeding so horribly?

Half her face was swollen from the hits she had to take, and if she wouldn't still be pumped with adrenaline, it would probably hurt terribly. Eddie wondered if more marks would show up with time, and he also wondered if the guy who did this looked even half as bad.

The light suddenly brought all the horrors to reality, with her clothes ripped in some places, and totally not sitting the way they should, and her hair messy and her makeup ruined.

"Who?" Eddie whispered to her. She didn't answer, she just looked it him. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm so sorry." Was her only answer, and it suddenly hit him who was behind all this.

"Do you want to take my Walkman with you? Maybe it helps to listen to music?" Steve offered, and was never more thankful that Nancy took her big blue bag out of his car earlier.

Y/n wasn't sure what the music was meant to change, but maybe it would quit her thoughts if it was loud enough, so she nodded.

"Thank you, Steve." She forced a smile, but it only lasted seconds before the façade fell again.

"Let's go in, okay?" Nancy told her. She didn't want to force her friend, but Y/n looked so incredibly pale, and the brunette feared that she would pass out with the amount of blood she was still losing. But Y/n just nodded. The earphones hang around her neck now, and she felt numb again.

It was easier to just push everything down and pretend she was alright for now. She wasn't sure if she could hold it up, but at least it fulfilled its purpose for now.

Eddie and Steve both offered her a hand and she took them, as they walked into the Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

The moment they entered, they were welcomed by the smell of disinfectants and the sterile white interior. It was almost as cold inside the hospital as it was outside, and the alcoholic smell reminded Y/n of the party, of him again.

She stopped and felt the panic rise, her breathing getting faster.

"It's alright, you're safe." Eddie squeezed her hand reassuringly. It was a bit sweaty and warm, but she felt his rings and then Steve squeezed her other hand, and the smell of alcohol was replaced with the smell of his hairspray. She breathed in deeper, and followed a pattern that Nancy instructed. "I'm okay." She assured then, but more for herself than her friends.

"Let me handle it." Nancy told the others, as she walked to the reception.

Steves gaze followed her, before looking around in the waiting room. There were two boys their age in one corner. One of them looked miserable, he hung in his chair as if he was melting, his eyes were closed and he had a cup of water in one hand.

The other boy danced to a rhythm that wasn't there, and Steve had no doubts that they took something that had only worn off for one of them yet. There was also a woman in her thirties, bouncing a sleeping toddler on her knee. She looked at them with suspicion, as if she feared they would jump around and make a fuss to wake her kid. Eddie stared back at her and then made a grimace, so she finally turned away from them with one last disgusted glance.

When Nancy returned there was a nurse by her side. She was older, possibly in her fifty's, but she wore a kind smile and approached them carefully. "Hello, dear." She adressed Y/n, but the girl didn't respond. That woman now knew how she was violated, and suddenly she felt so embarrassed again. Robin had shielded her from the eyes of the people in the waiting room, but nobody would shield her from the procedure she soon had to endure, and the people who performed it.

"My name is Donna. You're safe now. Will you follow me? Do you want one of your friends to accompany you?" Y/n exchanged a glance with Steve, but then she shook her head. They had seen enough already, she was much to ashamed to let them see everything. Donna went ahead, Y/n hesitated before following her, but eventually did.

Donna takes her into a small room with a divan and asks Y/n to take a seat. There is a second nurse in the room with them, and she introduces herself, but Y/n can't really understand a word that either of them is saying to her. It's like she's in trance, like she isn't actually there with them.

The nurses explain something and hand her some paperwork. Y/n signs them without really knowing what it is. She's wondering, how she is meant to pay for this. Then she curses herself for not thinking of that sooner. Thinking of it before they went to the hospital and before she signed the papers.

She's asked about her medical history. It's the only time Y/n is answering them, as she gives the nurses a rundown with as little words as possible.

Donna ask's her about the rape. Y/n isn't saying anything. Then Donna tells her they do not need to perform the entire procedure, if she tells them which areas he violated. Y/n still doesn't answer.

They offer her a paper cup with water and she takes it, not because she's thirsty, but because she feels like she must, like drinking is a part of the procedure.

"Are you ready?" The nurse without a name ask's, and Y/n nods. She's not sure if she's ready, though. She's not even sure for what she is supposed to be ready.

"Maybe it helps you to listen to some music?" Donna offers, and points at Steves Walkman. Y/n nods again, then she puts the headphones on, leans back on the divan and presses the play button.

A Tears for Fears tape is playing, and Y/n's first thought is how different Steves music taste is compared to Eddies. The music is calm, somehow happy and it indeed makes it easier as the procedure begins.

The first thing they do, is taking care of the wounds that are still bleeding. Apparently she's torn open a bit between her legs, and it needs stitching. They inject local anaesthetic before they do that.

The adrenaline is wearing off, and everything hurts again. She's handed painkillers, to take with the water she got.

Y/n watched, as they carefully placed the clothes she had worn into big plastic bags.

She feels exposed to them, she is exposed to them, but there isn't much to do about that. They let her choose sweatpants and a shirt from a box. The clothes are all ugly, so she doesn't care which ones she picks. The sweatpants are too short, and the shirt is too loose. It had an ugly purple tone, one that she would never wear willingly.

It was a weird thought, that her clothes were now bagged and seen as evidence in a crime. It had been her favourite shirt. It was Eddies gift for her eighteenth birthday, he had made it himself, and now she had ruined it.

She was glad though, that she had not worn the Hellfire Club Tshirt, because she wouldn't have been able to even look at it without thinking of him.

Then they take several swabs of different areas. Y/n simply pretends they're not. She pretends nobody's touching her, listening to the music, dreaming of times where she would drive around with her friends simply for the fun of it, times where she was fine.

They take pictures of all her bruises, a ruler next to them to proof their size. She's ashamed, as they photograph her down there, but the nurses assure her it was alright.

They brush out her hair and bag that up, too. Y/n questions why they would need it, but she's not saying anything.

Hours go by. Injections are filled with blood, pills are swallowed. They still explain everything to her. She still doesn't understand a word they are saying.

Steves tape is 41 minutes and 52 seconds long. She replay's it three times until the nurses are done.

"Men are dogs." Robin blurted out, as they watched their friend walk away with the nurse. "That we are." Eddie agreed with her, as the encouraging smiles they had worn for Y/n faltered. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, before deciding to sit down as far away from everyone else in the room as they could.

"I got them to call Hopper." Nancy informed them. "Hey knows that a girl was raped, but he doesn't know it was Y/n yet."

Nobody answers her, so Nancy just sighs.

Robin gets up and walks over to the vending machine. She fishes a few coins from her pocket and throws them in. It's enough to buy two Snickers. Nancy says she has no appetite, so Robin just shrugs offering one to Eddie and sharing the other with Steve.

Steve looks around, seeing the mother with the toddler again. The kid woke up and made a fuss, and the woman looked incredibly annoyed by that. She still bounced the little boy on her knee, then she stood up and walked around with him.

"Can Y/n, like..." Steve mumbled, a bit embarrassed. "Still have children and shit?" Robin shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not."

She tilts her head to look at him. "How am I supposed to know that." The blonde snaps, but she immediately feels sorry, so she leaves the rest of the Snickers for him.

"We got work tomorrow." Robin reminded him, but Steve scoffs. "Fuck that, I won't go to work when she needs me." The girl next to him chuckles. "You got a point there."

Steve thought about work. Thought about Y/n coming in at least once every week, getting a John Hughes movie she would force Eddie to watch. Being a teenager wasn't exactly as enjoyable as that guy made him believe.

He recommended Revenge of the Nerds to her once. Steve never realised what a shitty film that was. He laughed his ass of when he first watched it, but he only realised now how horribly it portrayed rape. It suddenly dawned on him, how many movies did.

Maybe he should open a new genre at Family Video. 'Movies that show rape as something normal and support peoples preconceptions'.

By the time Hopper walked into the hospital, thay had already been waiting for an hour. The older man walked up to the woman at the reception, who told him something before pointing into their direction.

The moment he turned around, he realised that the girl that was raped was one that he knew. He looked over them, at Nancy and Robin, the gears in his head turning. They must've looked miserable, because his look grew more pitiful as he approached them.

"Who?" Was the first thing he asked, but he already knew the answer. "Y/n." Nancy muttered. Hopper nodded, sitting down beside them. He brushed with his big hands through his face and took a deep breath.

"What happened?" He asked, and Nancy was the only one of them, who was able to give him a proper rundown of all they knew. Jim just listened and made notes, it was his job, but he felt the anger rise.

When Nancy was finished, he leaned back and sighed. He knew that most rape cases didn't end well. He would do everything to assure that this wasn't one of them.

"The issue is, that anyone could have done this to her and we have no way to proof who did it, if nobody has seen him." He explained to them, and Eddie groaned. "I'm going to kill him." He whispered, and Steve nodded with approval.

Hopper leaned back in his chair, then he stood up. "The Vitullo kit they're performing takes some time, I will be back when they're finished." He told them, and turned to leave, but Eddie stopped him.

"I know who did it." He told Jim, who paused. "What?!" Steve yelled, only to be hushed by the mother across the room. "How do you know?" He said, lowering his tone.

"She told me." Eddie shrugged. She didn't really tell him, but Hopper wouldn't take his guess seriously, would probably think Eddie wanted to frame his bully for this crime.

"It's Jason Carver. Jason Carver did it." Jim nodded, writing the name down. He knew who Jason Carver was. He also knew that with his reputation, it would make everything even harder.

"I will be back soon." He assured them, as he squeezed Steves shoulder reassuringly, before walking out of the waiting room.

Steve got up only seconds after him, brushing his fingers through his styled hair, before walking towards the door too.

"Where are you going?" Nancy stopped him, there was a warning in her tone, but Steve couldn't care less. "Finding Jason before Hopper does." He tells her, before turning to walk out of the damn sterile waiting room. Eddie gets up quickly and Nancy shoots him a disappointment glance, before even Robin follows Steve out.

"She needs us here!" The brunette tells her friends, but they are out before they can hear her.

Feedback needed! After it was heavily requested, next chapter the crew will get justice for Y/n lmao. What do you want to read in the next chapter? Also, I researched the 80s rape culture for this part, it's so disgusting.

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#steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x raped!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #jim hopper #hopper x reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler #stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #stranger things

[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

[pxgeturner]

𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔶 𝔊𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢 (16+)

there are a list of ten kinks available, go ahead and start requesting! each kinktober piece will have a 1-5 hundred wc. (do not forget that you must abide by blog rules & request rules )

don't just send in some bland ask in go "character with somno" a proper request would be like "virginity loss/first time with sugar daddy!character x r after they just got back from a shopping trip"

since there are only ten slots, request asap!! the list will be completed in no particular order. unless you send in a tip, tips will put your request higher up on the priority list! you can also override a taken slot if you make a request and tip!

followers only (if you're shy, anon is fine, just please only followers)

teratophilia —

virginity/first time —

breeding — p. altman (@inklore)

somnophilia — n. sully (@urvampgf)

size difference —

menophilia — m. o’hara (anon)

double penetration — s. rogers & b. barnes (@amourrs)

daddy kink —

overstim — t. riddle (anon)

free use — j. miller (anon)

tagging mooties:

@amourrs @odairsangel @yellowjaxxx @urvampgf @rottencranberry @inklore @oeyateyam @waitingforteyam @scarleart

#nsfw.giselle #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober prompts #miguel o’hara x reader #tom riddle x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #kylo ren x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #joker x reader smut #venom x reader #Jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #ellie william x reader #joel miller x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #miles quaritch x reader #quaritch x reader #Steve rogers x reader