#jim hopper fluff

[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

[ddejavvu]

Plain Old Man - Jim Hopper x Reader

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

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

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

WC: 1.47K / navi

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

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

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

"Hop!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper scenario #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper one-shot #jim hopper one shot #jim hopper headcanon #jim hopper headcanons #jim hopper hcs #jim hopper hc #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper x reader fanfiction #jim hopper angst #jim hopper hurt/comfort #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper drabble #jim hopper imagine #stranger things fanfiction

[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 💭

[ashwhowrites]

Hi could I request a cute hopper x reader fic set in season 2, where El helps hopper get ready for his date with the reader and a few months after they are dating, she meets El for the first time. Reader is nervous to meet El as she really wants El to like her, and El loves the reader and Hopper is in love with the reader especially after seeing his two favourite girls get along

Thank you for requesting! I miss writing about Hopper. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Fair warning - I barely have experience in writing El and I haven't seen season 2 in years so I hope it's semi correct with the timeline? And I hope her character is somewhat correct🤞🏻

His girls

Jim hasn't been on a date in ages, as well as asked a girl out on a date. But the few times Y/N stopped by the station, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She captured his attention more than the cigarettes and donuts that sat on his desk. He watched her through the blinds of his office, up until she left.

Jim didn't have the balls to ask her out until she beat him to it.

Now he tore apart his closet as El microwaved her small frozen dinner.

El could hear him cursing to himself and the sound of things hitting the floor. She walked over to his room, knocking on the door.

"WHAT!" Jim yelled, El opened the door with a worried face. Her eyes took in the disaster of his room.

"Do you..help?" She asked, she still was learning how to properly speak. She learned words here and there from the group but she never was out in the world to learn how to communicate.

Jim thought about it. His first reaction was to say no and deal with it. But maybe help would be nice. Maybe it would calm his nerves.

"I need a shirt and jeans." Jim sighed. El smiled and raced into the room. Her eyes looked over his different shirts.

"For a date. Fancy? You know fancy?" He asked, El shrugged. She had no clue what that meant but she wanted to help.

"Date?" She asked

"Yeah, you know how you like Mike?" Jim gagged out, but he knew this was the only way she'd understand.

"Yes." She said in a dead tone.

"I like a girl, and we are going to get dinner." He explained, that the fewer words for her the better.

"Dinner. Girl. Like." She muttered to herself. Her brown eyes scanned his room. She reached forward to grab a button-up. She'd seen Mike wear lots of those, but he always paired it with a jacket.

"Jacket?" She asked, holding up the shirt.

"I need a jacket?" He asked, when she nodded he pulled one out of his closet.

~~~

Jim couldn't lie, he was very impressed with El. He stood in dark blue jeans, a black button up and a brown jacket resting on his shoulders.

"Hair," El said, handing him a hairbrush. Jim smiled and thanked her. Brushing through his hair and trying to push down the bumps.

"Okay, El. I'm going to leave now. Stay here, you know the rules." He said, hands on his knees as he got in her eye level.

"Yes, hopper."

~~~

After many more dates, and once they made it official, Jim was ready for Y/N and El to meet.

Y/N was terrified. She could feel all the air get stuck in her throat when he brought it up.

"Really?" She squeaked out nervously. She'd heard lots about El, which meant she knew El wasn't easily impressed. She was blunt and honest. Two things that scared Y/N to death.

Jim kept pushing and pushing. Y/N knew it was important to him and she felt honored he wanted them to meet. She couldn't help but worry if El didn't like her. Would Jim end it all together? She didn't want to lose Jim, she felt herself falling for him.

~~~

"El this is Y/N!" Jim said a huge smile on his face. A smile El barely ever saw. El knew that Hopper didn't smile often. He was always grumpy and annoyed. She made him crack a smile every once and a while. And she felt her stomach warm as she watched Hopper smile toward whoever Y/N was.

"Pleasure!" El said, a big smile on her face as she held out her hand.

Jim may have given El a lesson in manners before this event. He prepped El just as much, or even more than he prepped Y/N.

"Oh! It's a pleasure for me too!" Y/N said she shook the young girl's hand.

"Compliment her haircut," Jim whispered against Y/N's head.

"I love your hair! The curls suit you very well." Y/N said, thanking Jim in her head, El's smile somehow got bigger.

"Thank you!" She said excitedly. Her face felt warm and her stomach fluttered.

"Pretty," El said, looking at Hopper.

"I agree." Jim smiled.

They sat down for dinner, a simple take-out delivery of pizza. It was so simple that it made Jim feel like they already were a family. El told her jokes that Jim never understood, but Y/N laughed at every single one. El didn't understand much of what Y/N talked about, but she listened closely. She watched her lips move and nodded along.

Jim worked hard on helping El with her communication, and he could see the improvement as she talked to Y/N.

~~~

After they met, El asked for Y/N to come over every day. She claimed it was nice to talk to a girl for a change. Jim rolled his eyes but he loved that El wanted Y/N around, because he did too.

Months down the road, El and Y/N communicated better than ever. El learned new words and Y/N kept her sentences short. Sometimes Y/N was there when Jim wasn't.

He lost count of the times he came home from work to see El learning to braid Y/N's hair. Eyeshadow on El's eyes and lipstick on her lips. Her nails were in a bright pink, and Y/N's nails matched.

"We had a girl's day!" El said, looking towards Y/N to see if she said it correctly. When Y/N gave her a nod and thumbs up, El smiled again and looked back to Hopper.

Jim hasn't had a family in a while. And he worried he'd never feel the love for a family like he did before. He was scared he'd feel too guilty and think he was replacing his old family. But he wasn't.

The two girls in front of him were his chosen family. And he'd pick them over and over again.

"I think Jim needs a makeover too!" Y/N said, a smirk on her face as El immediately agreed.

"No!" Jim argued.

~~~

"Nice nails, Hop!" One of the officers said as Jim walked into the office.

"Shut it," Jim muttered, grabbing a donut and walking into his office.

"Are your nails pink?" Joyce asked, sitting in his chair as she waited for him to arrive.

"My girls wanted to give me a makeover. Now what's up?"

#jim hopper stranger things #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper x female reader #jim hopper x reader fluff #jim hopper fluff x reader #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper request #ashwhowrites

[odetodilfs]

Masterlist

What I write for PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, REGLOG MY FICS IF YOU LIKE THEM!! Also no spam liking, that gets me shadow banned.

Kinktober 2023

Joel Miller fics

Dio Morissey fics Agent Whiskey fics

Tim Rockford fics Frankie Morales fics Javi Gutierrez fics

Pero Tovar fics

Silva fics Javier Peña fics Din Djarin fics Dieter Bravo fics

Oberyn Martell fics

Marcus Moreno fics

Steve Murphy fics

Namor fics

Poe Dameron fics

Jim Hopper fics (and Santa Harbour) Other characters

Miguel O'hara fics Some drabbles I love

Multi character fics

#jim hopper #jim hopper x male reader #jim hopper smut #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper headcanons #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x male reader #agent whiskey x reader #sub agent whisky #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #Javier Peña x male reader #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x male reader #pero tovar #pero tovar x male reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x male reader #dio morrissey #dio morissey x male reader #silva #silva x reader #silva x jake #odetodilfs

[diordrysdale]

thrill of the rush ⋆ jim hopper

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

word count ⋆ 1.4k

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

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

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

you had taken over his mind completely.

everything reminded him of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

he knew something was going on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

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

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

[dimepdf]

PLAYING DANGEROUS. + JIM HOPPER

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

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

pairing. jim hopper x reader

word count. 4.4k

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

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

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

Nothing but silence had descended throughout the halls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That exchange was innocently cute until it wasn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ] #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper #hopper #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper fanfic #hopper st4 #chief jim hopper #chief hopper #insert fic #hopper x reader #stranger things hopper #fluff #angst #jim hopper angst #stranger things fluff #joyce byers #joyce x hopper #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x ry/n #jim hopper x you fluff #jim hopper x y/n fluff #jim hopper x reader fluff #jim hopper fanfiction #stranger things x you fluff

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone (Part 1)

Pairing: Jim Hopper x fem!reader, Hopper POV

Summary: Reader is a secretary at the Hawkin's Sheriff's Department and Jim Hopper drives her to and from work everyday. Hopper gets worried when reader does not come out of her home, and when he finds out she is sick, he decides to take care of her. Set before the events of Season One of Stranger Things

Tropes: Jim Hopper x sick reader, mutual pining, angst, fluff, grump x sunshine, age gap (reader is fresh out of college).

Warnings: No Smut, mostly fluff, self-deprecating talk, indecisiveness, maybe some occasional cursing, Hopper is a little OOC, maybe one or two references to sex, but not explicit and only if you squint.

Word Count: 4.8k (I'm so sorry- but not really because it's great)

There is a minimal use of (y/n). Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you."

Internal monologue is in italics.

Honestly this is my first fanfiction ever, it's kinda self-indulgent, I tried to proofread the best I could, but please BE GENTLE. If you don't like, don't read, if you do like it, you're my favorite.

ENJOY!

*********************************************************

Hopper's truck idles in your driveway behind the ancient sea-foam green station wagon, and has been idling for the past 10 minutes. He is starting to get worried. You always come out to his car immediately when he pulls in the driveway. Probably, he suspects, because you don’t want to keep him waiting, but what you don’t  know is that he would be willing to wait forever just to see you.

Hopper taps his fingers on the steering wheel while inhaling smoke from the cigarette perched between his lips as worry pricks at his chest.

Where is she? Hopper thinks to himself.

His eyes skate over the windows and peeling white sills  of the modest home looking for signs of forced entry, but the house looks relatively quiet. He can’t decide if that is worse.

All of a sudden a frizzy haired, freckled girl wearing a nurse's uniform comes tearing out of the house with a large colorful bag thrown over her shoulder. She rips open the door of the station wagon in the driveway, but then raises her gaze to glare at Hopper's car, before running to his driver’s side window.

"Hi can you possibly move out of the driveway. I'm so late for my shift-" She declares out of breath while glancing down once at the plain watch on her wrist.

Hopper studies her for a minute things not quite connecting. Marcie.  He decides. You had mentioned your roommate in passing, but this was the first time that he had officially spoken to her or seen her.

"Um- sure. I'm just waiting for y/n-"

"She's not going to work today, she's got a cold." The girl waves her hand dismissively. "Sorry you must be Hopper. I'm Marcie and I'm so late, please." Marcie's eyes widen with her plea.

"Yeah sure." Hopper puts his car in reverse to clear the driveway allowing Marcie to squeal past him. Hopper momentarily smiles at her bravery for whipping out of the driveway so quickly when the chief of police is directly behind her, but then his thoughts turn back to you.

He idles in the street for a second, contemplating the situation.

I should just go to work, I should just drive away and sit at my desk and shuffle papers around- He thinks, but then he reconsiders. What if y/n needs something? Her roommate just left her there, I'm not even sure she locked the door. He raises his gaze once more to skate over the empty windows as if hoping that you will appear.

But when you don’t  Hopper sighs in defeat, pulls into the driveway, and turns off the engine. He pauses again with his hand on the key where it still sits in the ignition. His thumb taps anxiously against the wheel.

You're not her boyfriend, you're her boss. Hopper takes in a lungful of smoke, watching the house once more. But a boss can check on his employees, maybe she hadn't been able to call Flo to tell her she wasn't going to be at work so I should just check in on her, because I’m really helping Flo. Hopper reasons.

He gets out of the car, before pausing with his hand on the door. What are you doing? This is definitely overstepping. The intrusive thoughts are back to prick behind his furrowed eyebrows.

The truth was he has tried to keep his distance, but now he has begun to realize how much he relies on driving you to work everyday. How much he relies on those few moments in the car before he is twisted and pulled away to his office. But then you would be there after, waiting at your desk for him to drive you home. And the look on your face every time was enough to erase the tedium of the day.

Jim eyes the front door to check if you are coming out once more.

He always felt better when you’d  practically skip out of front door wearing those cute oversized sweaters and long skirts, with your hair billowing behind you in perfect curls. You would always smile at him as you walked to the car, before shyly ducking your head with flushed cheeks. And then after the shift, he always made sure that he didn't stay too late because staying late meant that you would have to wait for him. And because you were too embarrassed and polite to tell him that you were ready to leave, you would read at your desk quietly.

As cute as you looked leaning back in your desk chair utterly consumed with whatever the novel of the day is, because Hopper noticed you must be the fastest reader in the world given how many different books he'd seen you with, Hopper hated those days. Hopper hated those days because Callahan would loiter by your desk after his shift and make you laugh so loudly that it made the symphony of your voice drift into Hopper's office, quickly turning something that made his own heart jump and buckle in his chest into a consuming fire.

His hand tightens on the door frame of the car.

He hated watching Callahan ease over to your desk so carefree at the end of the night, taking the time to talk to you, flirt with you even.  Callahan who didn’t have to worry about the age difference or what everyone would say if he went out with you or spent the night with you. Callahan who was younger and carefree, maybe even a perfect match to your sunshine. Jealousy burned through his entire body when he thought of Callahan taking you out to dinner, having his hand in yours as you walk to the movies, sitting side by side in a booth at a restaurant, and even after the date when Callahan would walk you to your door and you would invite him in. His jaw clenches at the thought of you with Callahan alone in your house, your room, your bed-

He thinks about getting back in the car again, turning away, and leaving.

Hopper knew that it wasn't fair. He shouldn't feel jealous, shouldn't feel the need to control your life, because it was your life, and he didn't want to ruin it. He didn't want to intrude. You were so young, so full of life, innocent, that he knew he would ruin you in the worst way. He was just an old grump, so far from your sunshine he might as well be hibernating in a cave.

But oh how he wished he could. Oh how he wished he could bask in your sunshine all the time, letting the soothing rays from your smile fill him with peace.

Hopper lay awake at night thinking of you, wishing that you had met when he was a little younger, a little less- well- Hopper. He dreamed of what it would be like to tell you and have you return the sentiment with one of those smiles that sometimes he imagined were only for him.

Hopper looked back up at the house. The thought that you were alone inside and sick, made him close the door of his car, flick away the cigarette, and tramp through the overgrown lawn. Hopper made a mental note to ask you why it wasn't cut and then tossed it away.

Boundaries mean that I’m not going to come mow her lawn one day.

He knocks once. "(y/n)?" He calls, but hears nothing. "(y/n)?" He says a little louder, knocking a few more times.

Hopper was hesitant to shout. What if you had a headache?

His hand closes on the handle and turns, it is open. He sighs in exasperation. What was Marcie thinking leaving it unlocked? Doesn’t she watch the news? There could be any number of psychos lying in wait, watching the house! Then before he can stop himself he thinks: Yeah. Like you.

The inside of the home is tidy, but lived in. The living room has a collection of threadbare chairs and a patchy colored fabric couch covered in what looked like a handmade blanket. Hopper wonders if you made it, remembering last Christmas when you made a hand-crocheted tote bag for Flo. Because that’s the kind of person you were. You gave so much of yourself out to other people, cared for them, and he believed that he was so different from you.

There’s a coffee table with several rings in front of the couch where he places his hat, tracing the circles on the wood with a fingertip.

The smell of coffee pours from the kitchen and splashes against Hopper’s nose, but he continues down the darkened hallway that leads deeper into your home.

"(Y/n)?" He says again, louder, but there is no answer. "(Y/n)?"

The last thing he wants to do is stumble into your room while you are changing and scare you to death. The thought of seeing you naked causes a pink hue to travel into his cheeks.

A low groan sounds from the hall bathroom and makes Hopper’s chest clench in worry. "(Y/n)?" He turns towards the bathroom. The lights are off inside and the door is just barely cracked. Hopper pushes open the door and flips on the switch to the right against the white tile wall.

At first he's confused, because the low groan sounds again, and then he looks down.

You’re laying under a thick blanket, curled into a small ball, halfway between the toilet and the bathtub. Your cheeks are flushed with fever, eyes closed, breath coming in shallow gasps.

"(Y/n)!" Hopper gasps dropping to his knees. "(Y/n) are you okay?" Worry tightens its cold grip around his throat.

How could your roommate leave you like this?

"Hop?" You breathe, opening up one red eye. "Hey." Your voice is no more than a raspy croak. "What are you doing here?” Each word sounds like its too much effort to finish. In fact you close your eye and shy away from the bright bathroom light that Hopper flipped on when he entered the room.

“I came to pick you up. Marcie said you had a cold.” His eyes skate over you. “The door was unlocked.” Hopper felt the need to add that last part, trying to find rationalization for why he’s here instead of telling you that he came in because he was scared.

“Sorry. She called the office-“ You begin to cough violently into the blanket, curling further into a ball.

"Shh it's okay." His hand comes down to your hair, pushing it back from where it sticks to your skin. "Are you alright?" Your forehead burns against his hand.

"Not really." You croak. "I didn’t mean to fall asleep here, but it was easier than going back and forth."

"It's alright." Hopper gently places his arms under your knees, sweeping you up against his chest in one quick move.

You sigh and turn your head into him, while your hand grips the front of his jacket that is still chilled from the wind outside with a shiver. The cold is welcome against your feverishly hot skin.

You cuddle into his jacket away from the offensive light above, making warmth radiate through Hopper's body.

"Which room?" He asks.

"Across the hall." You mutter into his shirt with another sigh.

Hopper hopes that you can't feel his heart stuttering around in his chest like a bee trying to get out of a plastic cup. He's trying not to think about how natural this feels, how wonderful it feels to hold you close and have you curled up against him. He rationalizes that your fever is probably so high that you don't realize what you’re doing, that any other time you wouldn’t dare burrow into him like this. But he can't help but imagine what it would be like for you to want him to hold you like this.

Your room is tidy, but still a little messy. Hopper smiles at the cluttered desk and stacks of paperbacks, memorizing the titles and making mental notes of those that are more worn than others, promising himself that he'll read every one if they are your favorite.

He is always on the lookout for ways to start conversations with you and Hopper figures that the war themed paperbacks he has back at home are a bit out of your comfort zone given the titles of the books on the desk.

Hopper places you down on the bed, quickly pulling the covers over you. He tries not to notice what you was wearing before, he had only ever seen you in long skirts or long pairs of pants, but now you were only wearing an oversized t-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh and a pair of bright blue underwear. He ignores it, feeling the warmth of you skin beneath his palm.

"What can I do?" Hopper kneels next to the bed so you doesn’t have to look up at him.

"I'm okay, just sleepy." You whisper, cuddling into the patchwork quilt with another uncontrollable shiver.

"Okay." He brushes your hair back again before he can stop himself, enchanted by the way it feels against his hand. "I'll be right back okay?" Hopper breathes.

"Please don’t go.” You mutter moving into his touch, turning your entire body towards where he hovers just on the edge of your bed.

Hopper freezes. She didn’t mean that, she’s just sick, doesn’t know what she’s saying. He rationalizes eyes skating your figure again. He’s never seen you look so small.

When you were well, sometimes Hopper believed that you were the embodiment of the sun on earth, filled with light and warmth. Noting that your bright personality just exploded out of you constantly, but now seeing you so dim… it scares him.

“I promise I’ll be right back.” Hopper says again.

“Hmm.” You whisper as you begin to succumb to the exhaustion of the fever.

He backs out of the room, watching your sleeping figure one more time before he springs into action. Hopper walks to the bright yellow phone hanging in the wall in the kitchen and dials the station.

"Hey Flo it's the chief, how are things this morning?" He breezes looking through the kitchen cabinets and refrigerator. Hopper frowns at the dismal array of canned vegetables and moldy fruit in the ice box, but pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Hey chief. Pretty slow. Callahan went out on a call to get Mrs. Morris' cat out of a tree, but other than that it's been quiet. I meant to tell you that (y/n's) roommate called and said that (y/n) won't be in because she's not feeling too well this morning. Tried to call you before you left, but I figured I'd see you when you got in." Flo pauses. "Where are you anyway?"

"Um- something came up. Look I might not be in for a few hours. Do you think you can manage to keep things quiet?" He shifts uncomfortably. Hopper wasn't keen on everyone knowing that he was with you.

What would they say if he was here? He was aware of what the rest of the people in town said about him, but he didn't want them to say things like that about you. You deserved better.

"Sure chief."

"Alright thanks. I'll see you in a bit." He hangs up the phone standing in the kitchen for a minute while he finishes the coffee in the faded green mug. Hopper considers what he has to do, but he doesn't like it. The thought of leaving you again makes his heart twist in his chest, especially knowing how sick you are.

Not sick enough to stop smiling at him. The thought is welcome amongst the continuous admonishing from the guilt of him being there.

Hopper walks back towards your room peering in through the open door to check over your sleeping figure. Deep down he knows that he shouldn't be here, that he should just leave, but he can't. He can’t leave you when you can barely lift your head to look at him.

The phone rings on your nightstand, and as you stir, Hopper reaches for the receiver to stop the call and breaks his only rule.

"Hello?"

"Um. Hi. Who is this?" The voice on the other line is definitely a woman, decidedly older.

"Jim Hopper. Who is this?"

"This is (y/n’s) mother.”

Oh shit.

"Um hi Mrs. (y/l/n)-" Hopper's eyes go to yours which have widened in surprise.

But before he can respond any further you reach out and take the phone from Hopper’s hand.

“Hi mom." You croak. "Can I call you back?"

Hopper watches you with wide eyes as you wait a second to listen to your mother. He can only imagine what she's asking you.

 "No mom, he's not my boyfriend he's my boss." Your voice rasps. Hopper's heart stutters once in his chest when you answer her.

"He's here to check on me." You try to raise your voice again, but it comes out more like a harsh whisper.

You pause.

"No I'm not sleeping with my boss mom." Your face flushes as bright red as Hopper's does. He immediately stands from the bed, realizing that he was sitting on the edge and was about to touch you again subconsciously.

"Please can I call you back. I'm really not feeling well." You sigh laying back down as if sitting up is too much work.

Hopper's brows furrow with worry once more, wishing that he hadn't answered the phone. Because even if he was ever going to date you, which he wasn't, he didn't want your mother to hate him.

"Yes I'll make the soup. I love you. Okay. Bye." You hold out the phone trying to place it on the receiver, but Hopper takes it from you. "I'm sorry." You mutter laying back down in the bed with a sigh.

"It's okay." Hopper's still bright red. "I understand."

You sigh. "She's been so worried since I moved away."  You turn to cough into the blanket.

"Try not to talk." Hopper smiles. "You know, I think you talk more when you're sick."

You wheeze out a laugh. "Shut up."

"And you're definitely meaner."

You snort so hard that you begin to cough and Hopper feels bad for making you laugh, but when it's over you smile so wide at him any regret vanishes. That was why he liked you so much, because every time you smiled at him, you filled him with the warmth and brightness that you shone with every day.

He presses the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature. "Are you going to be okay if I leave for a bit?"

"Yeah." Your eyes are closed now, leaning into his hand. Hopper ignores how you lean into him and again tells himself it is only due to your current state.

"I promise I'll be right back."

"You don't have to-" You breathe in a low rasp.

"I'm not going to leave you like this alone." Hopper responds. "I'm just gonna run to the store-"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." Hopper clears his throat. "Try not to die."

"I'll try my best."

*********************************************************Hopper can remember the last time he made chicken noodle soup clearly. Sara had a cold, it was before she was diagnosed and was starting to get sick more frequently. Hopper had stayed home from work with her while Diane went out and he made the chicken noodle soup recipe his grandmother had used to make him when he was sick.

As he stirs the pot on the stove the smell brings back all the memories that usually make his heart clench in his chest, but now standing here in your small kitchen, the memories are softer.

The trip to the grocery store had been quick as he practically ran up and down the aisles strategically to find everything he needed, anxious to get back to you. Hopper had stolen the house keys out of you purse to make sure that he could lock the door, rationalizing that you wouldn't need them and he'd be damned if he left the door unlocked with you being as defenseless as you were right now.

Hopper walks back towards your room. You are curled up in a ball under the covers again, looking more small and cute that he wants to acknowledge. "(y/n)." He whispers.

"Hmm." You sigh and turn to look at him. Your cheeks aren't as flushed as before, which means the Advil Hopper made you take must have brought down your fever.

"I made you some soup. I think you should eat something." He says gently.

The smile you give him, warms his heart and makes the cold muscle in his chest flutter and stutter.

"You didn't have to."  You croak.

"I wanted to." He shifts his feet unsure. "Do you need help- or- um?" It wasn't that he didn't want to carry you, the memory of how it felt to carry you was fresh in his mind. It was that he wanted to make sure that it was okay for him to touch you again

"Please." Your cheeks flush all over again as he picks you up and carries you out to the kitchen table, sitting you up in a chair before draping the homemade blanket around your shoulders to cover your shivering body. 

He quickly moves to the stove dipping out a portion of soup into one of the flowery bowls from the cabinet before placing it in front of you.

You smile into the steam, letting the heat open up your lungs. "Thank you."

Hopper sits across from you at the kitchen table watching you eat it slowly, another mug full of coffee sitting in front of him on one of the cheerful flower printed placemats. He still can't bring himself to leave because he's worried about what would happen if he left. You could barely walk to the bathroom without help- maybe you might even need to go to the hospital.

The thought of taking you to the hospital filled him with dread, a whole slew of memories there that he didn't want to relive.

"This is really good." You smile at him from across the table. Your voice is less hoarse than it was a few moments ago, but still barely audible. "You didn't have to make soup. I could have ordered some from Sullivan's on the corner."  You cough violently into a napkin before blowing your nose again.

"It's okay. I just wanted to make sure that you were-" He stops unsure if he should continue. "Well if you were okay."

"Oh. Well it's very nice of you. I'm sorry that Marcie didn't call."

"I'm not." Hopper responds before he can stop himself. "I'm glad that I came by." His cheeks flush with his confession.

"I am too." Your cheeks are as red as his before you duck down to look back at your soup. "Though I don't want you to get sick too."

Hopper shrugs. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

He watches you finish up the rest of the soup. She's beautiful even when she's like this. Hopper looks at your face, noting you red cheeks and nose. Even covered in snot and flushed with fever, she's absolutely beautiful.

"Did you want to go back to bed?" Hopper asks when you take the last bite of chicken noodle soup.

"No I think I'll lay on the couch for a bit-"

He immediately moves to pick you up from the wooden chair and helps you over to the threadbare couch, laying the blanket over you before he can focus too much on your uncovered legs. "Thank you."

"Yeah-" His voice has deepened a bit, trying not to dwell on how wonderful it felt to have you in his arms again.

"There should be some tapes in those cabinets.” You gesture to the cabinets under the tv in the corner. “Did you want to stay and watch a movie?” You immediately freeze. You hadn’t meant to ask it, but here he was taking care of you making sure you were okay. You didn’t want him to go, despite his constant internal monologue convincing him otherwise. “Or if you have to go back to work that’s fine.” You back track.

“Um- well.” Hopper considers leaving again. He thinks that he’s overstated his welcome, knows that he is doing more than he should especially more than a boss would do for his employee. His eyes skate over your small figure curled up under the blanket. “I don’t think it would hurt to watch a movie. I think that Flo can manage the department for a few hours without me.”

You try to hide your excitement as he picks out one of the tapes and pops it into the VCR.

Now came the ultimate question: where should he sit? Regularly when Hopper was trying to woo someone he would sit next to them, throw his arm across their shoulders so they would lean into him- but he didn’t want to do that to you… well, he knew he SHOULDN’T want to do that to you. So he forced himself into the lazy boy arm chair that sat about 7 inches from where you were laying your head on the couch as the movie began.  You bunch up one of the couch cushions under you head, trying to prop yourself up as the movie began. Hopper reached over before he could stop himself and helped you adjust the pillow.

Your eyes meet his as a small smile graces your lips. He holds your gaze, trying to gauge how you feel about him- tries to read your mind to see if you wish that he'd just leave, that this is weird and he needs to go.

But there's nothing. He forces himself to look away from your gaze and back towards the tv trying to stop the warm feeling that rises in his chest.

Don't do this to yourself. She's just being nice because you made her soup, asking you to stay means nothing.

Within a few moments you were asleep again and that meant that Hopper didn’t have to feel bad about glancing over at you occasionally. His fingertips itch to push back the hair that's fallen into your face, but instead he puts them on the arms of the chair, relaxing back.

And within moments, Hopper falls asleep.

He wakes up when Marcie kicks open the front door at 8 pm after her shift, practically falling into the living room in her haste. Hopper jumps up from the chair startled.

"Oh hi." Marcie does a double take. "I didn't know you were going to stay here."

"No I wasn't-" Hopper clears his throat awkwardly. "I just-"

"He came to check on me Mar." You croak sitting up. "It's okay."

"Oh well." Marcie eyes him up and down. "I'm just gonna take a shower." Marcie continues to frown. "And I keep my pepper spray in there-"

"Marcie!" You exclaim as loud as you can without hurting your voice, but she doesn't look sorry.

Hopper nods awkwardly as she saunters from the room, his cheeks flushing bright red. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the rhythmic sound of your breathing had lulled him into a deeper sleep than he was accustomed to. In fact he couldn't remember a time recently in which he had slept so soundly.

"Well I guess I should go." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I'm sorry she's just always in a hurry and she doesn't have a filter." You sigh, hearing the shower begin to run. "It takes a bit to get used to her."

Hopper notices that your voice sounds less hoarse than it did when you fell asleep.

"It's okay." He waits another beat, because despite Marcie's sudden intrusion, he wishes that he could stay- but he knows better. "I'll give you a call tomorrow, see if you need a ride to work."

"Yeah I hope I'll feel a bit better." You begin to rise from the couch, but stumble forward and Hopper catches you against his chest in an awkward hug.

"You've got to be more careful." He breathes into the top of your head, holding you tightly against him.

"Hmm." You sigh, holding on to him just as tight. "Thank you Jim."

Hopper freezes. It's the first time you've ever said his first name, and it makes something inside his chest break open. It sounds so perfect coming from your lips that he wishes you would say it again. "You're welcome (y/n)."

Your arms are wrapped around him in a full hug by now, nuzzling your face into his chest- but just like that Hopper snaps out of it.

She doesn't want you, she's just being friendly, like (y/n) is all the time. Plus she's sick today, not thinking straight. The thought makes him sober up.

Hopper extricates your arms from around him rather abruptly, leaving your head reeling, and helps you back onto the couch. "Well goodnight."

"Goodnight." You smile, but it's tight lipped and for good reason. You have no idea what you did to make him suddenly so cold.

And the entire ride home from y/n's house, Hopper refuses to believe you were disappointed when he left.

*********************************************************

Thank you so much for reading! Part 2 will be posted soon!

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper #jim hopper fluff #chief hopper x reader #sunshine x grumpy #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #jim hopper x fem!reader #stranger things

[velvetcloxds]

A MAN IN UNIFORM | J.H.

pairing: brother's best friend!jim hopper x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: age gap (reader in her late 20s)

summary: your brother's best friend has always been hot, but him stepping in when you got an unfair ticket strutting around in his sheriff uniform has you feeling some type of way

Now, had Hopper walked out of his office to find anyone else making a scene in the middle of the police station, shouting at the top of their lungs, catching every eye in the room, throwing things at one of his best officers- he’d have thrown them right out the door. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was you, his best friend’s little sister and heaven knows he at least had to give you a chance before doing exactly that. He folded his arms and leaned against the open door of his office as he shook his head to stop his deputy from getting your attention.

He'd been thinking about you a lot lately, picked up the phone and slammed it down again, dialed your number, and then shoved the phone away, imagining your voice on the other end- would you be excited to hear from him, surprised maybe? He saw you properly at Christmas and Thanksgiving every year and sometimes easter, ran into you around town, and flirted a little in the movie store but not nearly as often as when you were teenagers hopping between diners and bars in high school.

“Listen here, bucko,” you pointed a bright red-nailed finger at the officer who was smirking far too smugly in your opinion, all things considered. “Do you have any idea how close I am to kicking you right off that chair?” he didn’t think you were serious, Hopper knew you were, so when you took a step forward, he did too.

“Lady, I don’t know what to tell you, it’s just a ticket.”

“Just a ticket,” you shrieked, it was a familiar sound, one much like the one you’d give him when he’d thrown you in the pool on summer break or cut you off from the jello shots back in university, it didn’t mean anything good was to come. “If my brother finds out I was given a ticket in his car by some dipshit who just got his badge, he’ll have my head- no matter the reason for said ticket being that the asshat in question had his little ego bruised when I didn’t want to go out with him and decided to get back at me,” Hopper moved at that, a gentle hand on the small of your back, a dangerous look aimed at the officer in front of you as he mumbled your last name just loud enough to let you know it’s him.

“Hopper,” the officer tutted, seemingly under the impression that he was about to be backed and not the other way around, smugness only growing as he stood up to hand over the ticket that you’d thrown at him earlier. “I tried to talk her down,” he scoffed, you fumed, the audacity. “You know how these girls are, can’t take no for an answer.”

“You little shit.”

“Language,” Hopper reminded you, but he was smiling in a way that meant he didn’t mind nearly as much as he should, lightly pulling you behind him and pointing towards his office, it was a clear command and you’d not take it so seriously were he not looking down at you, were he not so close to you, had you not realized in a split second how long it’s been since you’d seen him in uniform doing all of the above somehow making it all seem absurdly attractive. “I’ll take care of it, yeah, meet me in my office. “

Jim Hopper was the only man who could give you an order like that and have it obeyed, even with a big huff and stomped steps and a whole ordeal of uttered musings and threats, you did go to his office, and you busied yourself with the little figurines on his desk while you waited. He was talking to or rather at the officer you’d lost your cool with and you weren’t nearly as curious about what he was saying as you should’ve been. He’s always been attractive, always been too kind to be that hot and you remember countless years being wasted on having a crush on your lame brother’s very cool best friend who picked you up from school and carried your books and turned down nights with girls far out of his league in favor of keeping an eye on you and put out his cigarette when you were near- and now that very cool, very hot, very kind man was walking right towards looking far too damn good in a uniform you’d have to stop yourself from imagining him without.

“Is it safe in there?” he hummed as he stilled in the doorway, one hand holding a crumbled-up ticket, the other reaching to the coat rack to take his hat and you watched him with narrowed eyes as he set it on his head. “Stop frowning at me like that, trouble,” he wasn’t serious, really, he found it adorable even though he knew he shouldn’t, then again, he also shouldn’t have disciplined an officer for being an ass to his friend, but that ship has also sailed.

“Did you put him in his place?” you dared, taking his keys from his paper stack before sliding off his desk to meet him at the door, that same finger that you used to point at the officer now sliding over his tie to straighten it. “Because I’ll walk right back to him if you didn’t.”

“Course I did,” he was the smug one this time and it had the exact opposite effect on you, especially when the officer came walking past the office with a box full of goods and his tail between his legs on his way to the public complaint department of the station and you understood why Hopper seemed so pleased with himself. “Happy?” he dared but of course you were, so much so that you tugged his tie lightly to pull him closer and placed a red-lipped kiss right on his cheek, giggling from the feeling of the little hairs of his beard creeping up over tinted skin.

“Very happy, Jimmy,” you cooed, and he was glad for the door frame because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself standing were it not there. “Seems that uniform of yours is good for more than just making me nervous,” you admitted and gave him no time to push for more before slipping past him into the hallway, stealing his hat and gripping his keys tightly as you did. “Are you taking me out for lunch to celebrate, sheriff?” as if he’d ever say no, as if you’d ever let him.

“As long as you’re not driving,” he knew it would rile you up just enough to frown all perfectly at him, with big eyes and scrunched nose as you walked backward towards the exit.

“I’m ordering an extra piece of pie just for that.”

“I thought we were sharing,” he countered, quick to follow just in case you tripped and hurt yourself. You shook your head, tutting as he caught up with you just in time to grab your hand and pull you out of the way of some stranger.

“No way, got to keep those pants of yours looking nice and tight.”

“Naughty,” he breathed, and he paired the word with a little whistle and desperate glance away from your teasing, very longing gaze. You made quite the little show of licking your thumb and wiping carefully at the red lip stain on his face, for a moment you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to cover him with those all over, his neck, his chest, those big arms of his and in turn you found your cheeks spreading with warmth and wondered if you were too old to have a crush on your brother’s best friend or the town sheriff for that matter.

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

[moonbcrry]

Jim jopper as the readers boyfriend, give us your hopper bf head canons. Sfw and nsfw is fine, this would be soo cute thanks!! X

my first time writing headcanons so this is kinda shitty but i hope you like it <3

cw: fem!reader, age gap, below the cut mentions of; d/s relationship, praise kink, oral sex (fem!receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, degradation kink, name-calling(slut), lmk if i missed anything!

he definitely wouldn't make the first move cus this man has struggled a lot and yknow all those "im the curse" moods he's been in.

you'd be bringing coffee to his office in the mornings, excusing the department was on your way, or taking eggos for el cus jim is so busy with keeping the town safe and you want to help them with the least you could do <3

Jim would deny his feelings for you for as long as he could do and try to avoid you but it's not that possible when you keep popping at his door at the unexpected moments.

though when you finally start your relationship, with your endless efforts of course, he's all over you.

always keeping an arm around your waist, on your shoulders or just casually twirling his hand between your hair.

and we can't deny that he'd be a little possessive about you. like even for the smallest things. like you didn't wear your raincoat on a rainy day? congratulations, you won a grumbling, pouty hopper about how you could get sick at this weather while he puts his jacket over your shoulders.

would he be jealous when others stare at you two? yes, but he also would like that a lot. tightening his grip on your waist as you walked, placing a kiss on your shoulder, hiding his smirk behind that.

but if someone bothers you at a bar for example? that person is dead.

his favourite thing to do with you in the evenings is snuggling on his couch and watching some cheap-ass movies you rented.

his other favourite things are under the cut and NSFW, so no minors.

there's not a single time you could see the end of the movie, either you or hopper gets bored of the movie and you end up making out on the couch.

he lifts you by the waist and you're straddling his hips, hands clawing on his shirt covered broad chest as his tongue lap at your mouth. and you're already panting from arousal, hips jerking against his.

he'd chuckle against your mouth, noticing your growing neediness for him and you're hiding your face on his neck.

he flips you over so you're under him, continuing his attacks on your neck as he pampers you with praises.

when you're in his bedroom this man worships you.

he has you laid back in his bed, spreading your legs with his tight grip on the fats of your thighs as he eats you out like a starved man. when he's done with you, you'll probably have beard burn insides of your thighs

but he's a gentleman, he wouldn't fuck you before preparing you properly. you have to be ready to take him and enjoy every second with him.

have i said praise kink? yeah he fucking loves coddling you with praises as his cock buried deep inside you and your face flushing with his every word as if you weren't doing all the nasty shit with him.

though when he's frustrated or angry he'd be very degrading too. like - ughhh

he has your head flushed against the pillows, ass in the air, cock buried deep inside your pussy as you cry in overstimulation (again im saying this man loves overstimulation) and his calloused fingers digs at the flesh of your ass, "like that, huh? you like when treat you like the whore you are - nuh uh uh, don't shake your head darling. i can feel you squeezing me like vice, creaming on my cock. my little slut."

©moonbcrry 2022 !¡ do not copy, translate or repost ¡!

#jim hopper headcanons #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper smut #stranger things x reader #❧ hattie's lovely nonnies

[pinkandblueblurbs]

after-party

jim hopper x fem!reader. fluff. age gap (reader is college aged), underage drinking, drunkenness, lightly implied child abuse (just to be safe), suggestiveness, references to sex

a/n: i wrote this to take place sometime after this little headcanon, so reader and hopper have that pre-established history.

a/n 2: this is not proofread and im not very happy with it but its my first full hop piece so. yeah. take it as you will

word count: 2k

You barely hear the shouts or the pounding on the door, barely blink open your eyes to see the lines of kids walking by the couch you occupy and towards the exit. The sounds and lights all hurt your pounding head, so you opt to let yourself slip into a comfortable unconsciousness as much as you can.

You’re pulled back to reality by a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently while a low baritone speaks to you.

“C’mon, kid. Wake up.”

You force your eyes open with a groan, and despite the too-bright lights and fuzziness of your vision you manage to recognize the serious face before you.

“Hopper...?” You murmur blearily, mouth dry and mind sluggish. “What’re- oh, shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” He echoes. “You’re busted.” He rises from his crouch, nodding towards the door, and you try to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the way he looks looming over you. “Stand up, it’s time to go.” 

It takes you a few long seconds to process his words, and he watches you while you do, looking unimpressed as you blink at him. “Can you stand up?” 

“Course I can stand up.” You finally reply, swinging your legs over the side of the sofa and planting your feet on the floor. That movement alone has your head spinning, but the alcohol has stripped you of your reasoning, so rather than take a moment to collect yourself you shoot right to your feet.

It feels like standing on a boat, like the ground is tilting under you, but you only have to sway there for a moment before strong hands are reaching out to grip your arms and hold you steady. 

“I’ve got you, kid.” Hopper moves to your side, still holding you upright as he starts taking slow steps towards the door. You follow his lead, using all of your concentration to not trip over your own feet. “Let’s get you home.”

You hum, picturing your soft bed and warm sheets, eager to be back in a horizontal position. Being upright makes your headache worse, and every time you move the contents of your stomach threaten to rise up through your throat. Yeah, going home sounds nice.

You make it all the way out to Hopper’s car- with only a few near wipe-outs and mutters of “careful”- before you remember it’s not your bed that will be at the door to greet you.

“Wait-” Hopper’s opening the passenger side door and you reach out to push it closed again, ignoring his annoyed huff. “I can’t go home.”

“You can’t go home?” He looks down at you as you lean haphazardly against his car. “Why’s that?”

“My parents,” you slur, “my parents will be pissed.”

“Your parents will be pissed.” He keeps doing that- repeating what you say back to you, as if he wants you to hear how stupid it sounds. You scowl. “Pissed at you for going to a party full of underaged drinking and getting the cops called on you? I’d be mad too, kid.”

You shake your head, eyes wide and heart thrumming at the mere thought of facing your parents. “No, you don’t get it. They’ll be really mad.” Something in his face softens as he looks down at you and sees the unmasked fear in your expression. He sighs, and once again reaches for the door handle.

“Alright, well, you can’t stay here.” He opens the door. “Get in.”

You let him coax you into the passenger seat, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when your butt is firmly planted and you no longer have to rely on your legs to keep you upright. You grab for the seatbelt and pull it over your body while Hopper closes the door and goes around to the driver’s side.

“You buckled?” He asks once he’s settled, looking over at you and assessing the strap across your front.

“Yup.” You respond, popping the p. A faint smile crosses Hopper’s face, and he starts the car.

“Then we’re off.”

You rest your forehead against the window as he drives, watching the blur of trees and road signs that whir by. There’s a heavy silence for a few moments, until Hopper speaks.

“You go to that party alone?” He asks. He’s trying to sound casual, but even in your inebriated haze you catch on to the tension in his voice, and you know you’re in for a lecture.

“No,” you murmur softly, picking idly at your cuticle, “went with friends.”

“With friends.” You can feel him glance at you, but you keep your eyes trained out the window. “And these friends just up and left you? Left you passed out on the couch?”

“Guess so.” You shrug. You can hear Hopper intake a sharp breath.

“What are your friends’ names?” His strained tone brings you to finally look at him. Your stomach flips anxiously when you see the angry furrow of his brow. He glances at you again, and your nerves must be visible on your face, because he looks back at the road and speaks again.

“I’m not mad, kid. I’m not gonna get you and your friends in trouble.” He still sounds rigid, but the words are genuine. “I’m just curious to know what kind of assholes would leave you like that.”

You keep your gaze on him, studying his profile as he watches the road. Your foggy mind wanders briefly, taking in his handsome features and remembering the last time you’d seen him. You look at his hands on the wheel, remembering the way they felt gripping your waist.

You blink a few times to clear your head, struggling to remember the conversation at hand. Something about being left alone by your “asshole friends.”

“I’m alright, y’know.” You murmur after the long pause, unsure what else to say.

He takes one more glance at you, takes in your slouched posture and glassy eyes, remembers you stumbling out to the car. You think for a second that he’s going to argue, but he just sighs and turns forward again.

“Yeah.” His voice has turned softer, almost reassuring, though you can’t tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself. “You’re alright now.”

The rest of the drive passes in silence. Once the car pulls up to the small cabin Hopper gets out, then moves around to help you do the same.

He walks you up to the door and lets you inside then guides you over to the couch, which you unceremoniously flop onto.

“You can sleep there, alright? I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”

You hum your assent, looking around the small space curiously while he pops into another room. A few moments later he comes back with a knitted blanket and a somewhat limp, deflated looking pillow. He tosses both to you, and you don’t move to catch them, you just track them with your eyes as they land on your lap.

“Get comfortable.” He instructs gruffly before turning and walking into the small kitchen.

You do as you’re told, leaning the pillow against the armrest of the couch, folding it over once so it has some mass to it. Before you can lay down Hopper’s back at the side of the sofa, glass of water in hand.

“Here,” he holds it out to you, and you take it without question.

“The bathroom’s that door right there, and I’ll be in my room there if you need anything.” He points out the two rooms then nods at the glass in your hand.

“Now drink that and get some sleep. Alright?” You nod, eyes flitting up to him as you start to drink. He offers you a satisfied nod of his own and turns to walk away, disappearing into his bedroom.

You drink half and set down the glass, the fluid sloshing uncomfortably in your already agitated stomach. He must hear the heavy thud as it meets the table, because he calls out “all of it, kid! You’ll thank me in the morning.”

With a frown you pick the glass back up- because he’s right, you’re in for a miserable hangover as it is- and down the rest of the water.

You try to follow his other instruction to get some sleep; you shift around on the sofa to find a position that doesn’t feel contorted, you bunch up the sorry excuse for a pillow so it can offer some support to your throbbing head.

It’s all in vain, however, because you still find yourself awake. Awake and uncomfortable and thinking about the man one room over.

Before you have a chance to give it any real thought- if you’re even capable of real thoughts at the moment- your body’s in motion, heavy feet bringing you to the doorway of Hopper’s room.

“Hop?” You step into the dark space and walk over to the bed. The man lifts his head with a groggy grunt and a confused utterance of your name.

“Need something, hon?” He lets the name slip in his tiredness, and a smile graces your lips.

“Can I sleep in here?” You ask softly, reaching out to finger over the material of his comforter. The man rubs his eyes and heaves a sigh, starting to get up. “No!” You exclaim in a rush, causing him to stop in his tracks and fix you with a disgruntled look. “I mean, can both of us sleep in here.”

He lets out another sigh. “Nice try, kid, but no. You’re drunk.”

“It’s not like that.” You murmur. “I just wanna sleep, that’s all.”

He studies you for a moment, contemplating, and you offer him your most pleading expression. Eventually, there’s a third sigh.

“Alright. C’mere.” You beam at him and practically throw yourself into the bed, colliding with his side and pulling a low “oof” from his chest. For a second you think he’s going to make you scoot over, but then he’s letting his arm drop down around you and holding you in.

He’s warm, and he smells just the way you remember, and his chest makes a far better pillow than the one from the sofa.

“This is much better.” You shift your gaze to look up at him, finding his eyes closed. He still looks serious, even so close to sleep, but he also looks a bit more peaceful.

“Yeah?” You nod against him with a soft “mhm.” “Good. Now we can both get some fucking sleep.”

You hum and close your eyes, grinning to yourself.

“Then maybe in the morning we can-“

“I said sleep.” It’s as stern and gruff as ever, but you can hear the hint of amusement in his tone. Your giggle is the last thing he hears before sleep takes you both.

—

Come morning the first thing you notice is that your head is pounding worse than the night before. The sun is bright through the blinds as you force open your eyes, and you groan, struggling for a while to convince yourself to get up out for bed.

Once you do you stumble out of the bedroom and are immediately hit with the smell of coffee and eggs. There are a pillow and blanket left abandoned on the sofa, and at the table are two sets of mugs, forks, and plastic plates. You move towards the kitchen to find Hopper’s large form standing in front of the stove. He turns to look at you.

“There she is. Morning, sunshine.” He says dryly, taking in your groggy state. All you can muster in response is a vague grunt, and he lets out a huff of amusement, pushing the eggs around in the pan.

You watch him for a moment, slowly coming back to yourself, before your gaze settles back on the made-up sofa.

“Hop,” you start, voice slightly croaky. “You didn’t have to give me the bed.”

He turns to look at you again, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a smile that you can’t quite discern. He clicks off the burner and steps away from the stove, holding the pan of eggs in hand.

“Don’t worry about it, hon.” The term makes your heart stutter. “You needed a good night’s sleep more than me. Had to sober you up somehow.” He flashes you a grin, and you return it, gratitude swelling in your chest.

“Now c’mere, have a seat.” He’s dumping a portion of eggs onto each plate. “I hope you like ‘em scrambled.”

follow and turn on notifs for @pinkandbluelibrary to know when I post a new fic!

#jim hopper #hopper stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper imagine #stranger things imagine #jim hopper fluff #stranger things fluff #stranger things 4 #david harbour

[luveline]

need need NEED more hop x reader w el they are the CUTEST

“So she’s coming?” El asks. 

Hopper pushes a glass of orange juice in her direction. “Mm-hm.” 

“And she wants to see me.” 

“Yeah, kid, she wants to see you.” 

Eleven’s hair curls just under her ears. Hopper hadn’t suspected her hair would be curly once it began to grow, but it waves gently, and tighter the longer it becomes. He doesn’t know how to take care of it. He only just taught her how to use shampoo and conditioner without leaving all the suds in. 

She scratches it. “What are you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” He ruffles her hair. “Eat your breakfast. You can get changed when you’re done. You need me to help you find something?” 

“No. I like choosing.” 

Hopper knows. She isn’t good at matching yet, but she’ll get there. 

She eats her breakfast too quickly, doesn’t drink her juice, and doesn’t put her plate in the sink before she goes, but Hopper doesn’t bother getting mad. He’s trying to be less moody. He’s also trying to be understanding; she’s learning to be a normal kid. Most normal kids are slobs. 

“Can we have dessert?” El shouts from her room. 

“You can have a snack later.” 

“Please?” 

“You can have some chips once you get dressed. Are you still hungry, or–?” 

“Snacks,” she says, turning on her radio. 

Hopper nods, laughing to himself when there’s a knock at the door. He’s been waiting to see you all weekend, and he walks to the door with a terrible smugness about him to let you in. 

“Hello,” he says, wedging the creaky frame open with his shoe. 

“Hi, handsome.” You look up into his eyes, fresh-faced like you’ve had a good scrub and dressed for a day in the house in cuffless sweatpants and a hoodie he thinks might be his. “Wow, nice shirt, hotshot. What is that? The Hawkins Police Department fun run of eighty two? That’s vintage.” 

He leans down to kiss you hello. 

“Oh, hi,” you flirt. 

You’re confident when you know you’re loved, he’s found. Still the homespun woman he knew you to be, but affectionate once you’re comfortable. He smiles into your mouth and pulls you tight to his chest, lifting you off of your feet for a millisecond before placing you back down. 

“Where’s my girl?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. 

“El?” you call. You slide around him to find her but turn back, “Did you ask her about the hugging?” 

“She says it’s fine.” 

“Like, she wants to?” 

It had been a strange conversation. Hopper is used to telling El things, or being told things by her. He didn’t ask her what she likes for breakfast, he just kept guessing until he found the right stuff. She never asked him if she could sit in his side during movies, she just inched closer until he put his arm around her. 

“She wants to,” Hopper says. She’d seemed perturbed by the question, sure, but it ended with her happy little smile through a handful of popcorn. 

“El?” you call again. 

“Kid! Your best friend is here!” Hopper shouts. 

Thunder from her bedroom, a door swung open and slapping the wall. “Y/N?” she asks, the skirt of her dress swinging as she pauses in the doorway. 

You smile and step forward. You’re tentative but excited all the same, laughing as you wrap your arms around her shoulders, and pat her back. “Hi, beautiful.” 

“Where have you been? It’s two weeks.” 

“Yeah? I didn’t mean to not see you for so long, I’m sorry.” 

“Hop says you have lots to do.” 

“There’s a leak in my bathroom,” you take her by the shoulders. “Aw, this is nice. When’d you get this? It’s light and summery.” 

“Hop… from a catalogue.” 

You raise your brows at him, grinning. “That’s nice. How many did you get?” 

“We got five.” 

“Five! From the catalogue!” You hold her hand. “Hop must really like you, huh? Who can blame him?” 

El looks down at your joined hands. Hopper feels his skeptic heart softening. “He likes you, too.” 

“But do we like him?” you joke, letting go of her hand to put your arm behind her back instead. You give Hopper a look. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I was thinking we’d go out for milkshakes?” 

Hopper bites his tongue. El has a birth certificate now, she’s his daughter, she can’t be taken, but going out with her into the world draws stares and derision alike. People can tell she’s abnormal, and he can’t stand that. She doesn’t deserve to be gawked at for talking a little slowly, or messing with stuff she doesn’t understand. 

But he doesn’t want her feeling punished for those things either. 

“Get your jacket, El.” She beams, rushing for her room. “She’s gonna love the jukebox,” Hopper says. 

You meander back into his arms, kissing his stubbly cheek. He pretends to nudge you away.

#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

[ddejavvu]

What about Jim hopper with a reader who is just a big ol sleepy baby? Like she just falls asleep on him all the time

Jim's butt is wet, his hands are grass-stained, and his ears are aching. Fireworks explode across the sky in bursts that nearly deafen him, and he's sure you'll tease him in the morning about his old ears. You have a habit of that, anytime he frowns and grunts, 'what?', you pat his chest and tell him he's getting old. It's true, but it's not his favorite part of the day.

The fireworks are starting to bore him, anyways. El is enamored with each new boom, but she's chattering on excitedly with her friends, not babbling at him. So he turns to you as best he can, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Having fun?" He asks, squeezing your waist so that you're pressed even tighter to him.

No reply.

"Hell-o," he prompts you, nudging your face off his shoulder so that he can get your attention over the deafening booms, "I said are you-?"

He cuts himself off with a frown, his mustache prickling against his lower lip as you slump off of his shoulder and into his lap. Your face lands partially turned towards his own and he finds that your eyes are closed, soft, even breaths coming from between your lips despite the explosions above you.

He can't help it; he laughs. El turns at the sound, seeing your sleeping face and frowning.

"She can sleep? It's loud."

"Yeah it is," Jim brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "She could sleep through a hurricane."

El tenses, eyes terrified, "She has?"

"No!" Jim pats her knee comfortingly, "No, honey. I just meant that she can fall asleep anywhere."

"Oh." She frowns, contemplating. Then, "Do you think she has powers?"

"Maybe she does," Jim chuckles, adjusting your jacket over your shoulders so that it's not leaving you prey to the chilly night air, "She's the Super Sleeper."

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper scenario #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper one-shot #jim hopper one shot #jim hopper headcanon #jim hopper headcanons #jim hopper hc #jim hopper hcs #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper drabble #jim hopper dialogue #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper x reader fanfiction

[empresskylo]

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

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

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That didn’t make you feel that much better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shut his door and walked back over to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always this shy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought I heard somethin’,” You whined. 

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

Shit, shit, shit. This was not good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I am around her enough.”

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

“I know, I’m always right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ashwhowrites]

Fluff! Hop's girlfriend is trying to teach Eleven how to cook. It's noisy. There are lots of yelps and clanging pans. He's watching and loving every second of it, but pretends to be napping whenever you look, because you two are bonding.

I SAW HOP AND I'M RUNNING WITH IT

Not proofread

Y/N and Hopper have been together for about two years now. But only one year living together. And only one year of Eleven having someone new in her house.

Hopper was always worried that Y/N wouldn't have been ready to be with a man that had a child. He gets it. Not every woman is ready to help take care of a kid. But Y/N did it with the biggest smile. And Hopper has never seen El adore someone so much.

El loved having a woman figure in her life and around her home. She liked family dinners, movie nights, and crashing their dates.

And Y/N loved the little girl just as much, even if she wasn't so little. Y/N knew all about El's powers. Helping her whenever she needed. Especially when it was girl issues.

"BABE. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THIS!"

Hopper didn't handle El growing up too well so YN definitely stepped in to teach her everything.

One thing El wanted to learn was to cook. She still loved her waffles, no doubt, but Y/N always made the most delicious meals. And El hated she had to do it all by herself.

"can I help?" El asked quietly. Hopper was passed out on the couch, just a few feet away.

"of course Hun. Wash your hands first" Y/N instructed.

Even with powers to move things with your mind, El didn't quite have a grasp on objects.

"grab the red pan but be careful it's hea-" Y/N got interrupted as El dropped the huge pan. A huge banging noise echoed throughout the small cabin.

Y/N's eyes flashed to Hop, still dead asleep.

"I'm so sorry!" El apologized, going to pick up the pan

"it's fine. I swear he sleeps through everything" Y/N laughed as she helped her pick up the pan. El laughed too.

Quickly going back to learning the new recipe.

~~

Hopper technically was asleep when Y/N started. But once El made her way into the kitchen, determination on her mind, he knew his sleep was gone.

He loved El but she wasn't quiet. He held in the laugh as she dropped the huge pan, shutting his eyes fast when Y/N looked over.

"it's fine. I swear he sleeps through everything"

He slowly creeped open one eye to see their backs to him. Giggling and laughing.

He watched Y/N pull up a chair for El to stand on, the chair scraping against the floor, instructing her she needed to see above the dish fully.

"I love your long hair El. It suits you very well" Y/N said kindly, mashing something in a bowl. The bowl smacked harshly into the counter.

"thanks! Dad thinks boys will like it too much, especially Mike." El flushed and giggled to herself. Moving butter into a pan, the knife scraping against the dish.

"don't listen to him. He's a grump" He watched as Y/N bumped her hip against El

A slight eye roll came from his end

"how are you and Mike?"

Now Hopper truly wished he was asleep. He did not need to hear this conversation.

"I don't know. He's busy and never makes time for me. Something about nan?"

"You'll learn El, but boys suck" Y/N joked. Instructing El throughout the next step

"but you love dad right?" El questioned

Hopper watched as Y/N began to turn her head, flashing his eyes closed in seconds.

"oh definitely. But he's a man and a good man. Mike is a teenage boy. They are different. But young or not, never let a male make you feel not worth it. You hear me? Or you dump his ass" Y/N said sternly.

Hopper watched as she pointed her finger in El's face. Hopper smiled hearing her say she loved him and tried to hide a chuckle as she instructed Mike is a dumb boy. He's been trying to tell El that for months.

"Dump his ass. Yeah" El nodded to herself, a proud smile on her face as she added cheese to what seemed to be a salad.

"and if dad ever makes you feel not worth it, you tell me. I'll handle him" El said, and there was no teasing in her voice.

Hopper wanted to laugh at her seriousness. But his heart warmed at the thought of her loving Y/N so much that she'd definitely handle Hopper no doubt

"oh definitely. My own personal super hero" Y/N whispered as she messed up El's hair with her hand.

Hopper smiled as the two girls smiled at each other. High fiving as they finished the meal.

"I think it's ready!" Y/N cheered.

"I'll bring it to the table" El cheered along. Stepping down from her chair and grasping the meal.

Walking slowly to the table, just inches away and she dropped it. The dish shattered and the food went everywhere.

She turned around red in the face

"oops" she shrugged

Y/N clasped her hands over her mouth as she laughed.

Knowing she wasn't mad El laughed with her.

"I knew that was gonna happen" Hopper muttered from the couch.

His two girls, what would he do without them

#jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fluff #Jim Hopper fluff x reader #Jim Hopper requests

[odetodilfs]

Jim Hopper fics

Purple: Headcanons Green: SFW Red: Dominant Hopper Blue: Submissive Hopper Orange: None of the above

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND I NO LONGER WRITE FOR HIM!!

Dating Jim Hopper headcanons

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Cuffed

Blowjobs and tiddies

Tear

Fight

Got caught

Under the mistletoe

Tease Office fuck Picture At the station Gotta make this quick Disobeying orders Dessert

Favorite Teacher Just how you are

After so many months Third to the mix In Return Hopper's husband Meant to be Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Hopper's first Time with another man

Nightmare (gender neutral reader) It's okay to cry, Jim (gender neutral reader) 10 reasons

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