#chief hopper reader insert

[yoditopascal]

Heat of the Moment (Part Four)

summary: ‘Adopted daughter to police chief Jim Hopper, Shea has a hard enough time fitting in at Hawkins high, throw in monsters, meddling kids, and alternate dimensions into the mix and she’s not sure how she’ll survive.’

content warning: some angst, character deaths, period-typical racism, period-typical sexism, canon-typical violence, possible smut later on??? (honestly we’ll see), cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug use, this is a reader insert but I hate using y/n so your nickname is ‘Shea’

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Vecna's Curse

Unfortunately for the group Steve and Robin still had to work so they collectively decided, meaning fought over with rock paper scissors, to wait till their shift was over to go to Rick’s place

“What’s the deal with you and Eddie by the way?” Dustin asked as they munched on some fries in the parking lot on the roof of Shea’s car. It was a little past 6pm and they were still waiting on Robin and Steve to get off work so they decided to grab a snack to pass the time. Max was sitting on the hood with her headphones over her ears blasting Kate Bush as they conversed.

“What do you mean?”

“ I mean I’ve barely seen you guys even interact with each other let alone hang out and now he’s all asking about you at lunch and stuff?” Dustin said as he dipped his fries into a huge glob of ketchup and shoved them in his mouth, waiting for Shea’s response

“He was asking about me?” She could feel her cheeks heat up a bit as she answered his question with a question.

“Yeah like a lot, it’s pretty gross” Dustin scoffed as he scrunched up his face at her

“We’re just friends” she retorted a little too quickly for Dustin’s liking but the teen decided to leave well enough alone and went back to his fries

Finally, off of work, it was well past 10 pm when the five of them piled up into Shea’s car and headed over to the Lipton residence on Holland road.

The street ahead was pitch black save for the few lights that shown through the trees from their headlights. Pulling into the dark driveway Dustin was the first to bounce out of the car with his flashlight and race up to the front door ringing the doorbell over and over again waiting impatiently as no one answered 

“Guys I don’t think he’s here,” Steve said walking up behind Dustin, he put a hand on his shoulder and tried to steer him towards the car but was shrugged off.

“Eddie! It’s Dustin! We just wanna talk!”

Stepping outta the car with their own flashlights Max Robin and Shea walked around the seemingly empty house, peeking into the windows with their lights as they walked before coming back to the front door where Dustin continued to beat on. 

“We just wanna help!” He pleaded as he kept up his tirade on the front door  

“Reefer Rick!” Dustin tried one last time 

“Dude! Don’t shout that!” Robin shushed him

“There’s no one here man!” Steve shouted tired of Dustin and his pounding already, he was seriously starting to get a headache now with all this Eddie business.

“Hey guys?” Max called from a little ways off from the group.

Turning their attention to her they realized she was shining her light at the boathouse off to the side of the home that had a light on for some reason.

The group slowly approached the boathouse, shining their lights into the windows as they neared, trying to get a decent look inside. When they couldn’t see past the dust and cobwebs that cover them Steve pushed the girls back behind him as he and Dustin entered into the unlocked boathouse first. 

It was dark and damp inside the boathouse with nautical equipment decorating the floor and walls

“Hello? Robin called “Anyone home?”

No one answered as the group continued to look around, searching for any type of clue that Eddie might have been there.

A big thud cause everyone to jump as they all turned their flashlights towards the sound and found Steve poking at the large tarp that covered the boat in the center with an oar.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked, scared half to death 

“He might be in there,” Steve said as he continued to poke and prod at the tarp

“So why are you beating it?!” Shea whisper shouted not wanting to scare whoever could possibly be under the tarp off

“It could not be him!” Steve whisper shouted back

“Dude just take the tarp off!” Dustin whispered as he walked up to the other side Steve watching him continue to poke the tarp tiredly.

“If you’re so brave you take the tarp off!”

Just as Shea was about to make another remark the tarp went flying as Eddie jumped to his feet from underneath. Broken bottle in hand he backed Steve up into the wall with the glass at his throat.

“Wait wait wait!” Steve cried his hands in the air in surrender.

“Whoa, Eddie stop!” Dustin cried his hands up in defense from behind Shea. She had instinctively placed herself between him and Eddie before she realized who it was.  

“Eddie! It’s me! It’s Dustin!” Dustin tried to reason. “This is Steve!” He said realizing that Eddie probably had no idea who Steve was.

“Steve’s not gonna hurt you, Eddie! Tell him, Steve!”

“Right, yep I’m cool man,” Steve said as he swallowed thickly 

“Eddie why don’t you drop the bottle and we can talk about this ok?” Shea said finally drawing his attention away from Steve for a split second as he just realized she was there.

“W-what are you guys doing here?” He asked as his voice trembled, his grip on the bottle tightening as Steve flinched.

“We’re looking for you!” Dustin cried again stepping around Shea to get closer to his friend

“We’re here to help Eddie!” Shea said, putting her hand on Dustin's shoulder to stop him.

“These are our friends,” Dustin said pointing to Robin and Max who stood stock still behind them.

“You know Robin from band, the is my friend Max the one who never wants to play dnd”

“You know me, Eddie,” Shea said approaching him with her hands out, she gently placed a hand on his holding the broken beer bottle “Please Eddie it’s ok”

“I swear on my mother! We’re on your side! Right guys?”

“Yes we swear!”

“Y-yeah on Dustin’s mother!”

“Eddie” Shea called one last time, her grip on his hand tightened softly enough to let him know she wanted him to let go but not hard enough to hurt him. Looking into her eyes he searched for any hint that this was a trick, any hint that the minute he let Steve go she’d turn him over to the cops but the longer he looked into her eyes the more he realized she was being genuine. 

With a shaky sigh, Eddie pushed himself off Steve and dropped the bottle

“Oh thank Christ you’re ok!” Shea cried as she went to pull him into a tight hug once he dropped the bottle. Eddie flinched at the contact at first, still terrified after everything he’s been through but eventually, he slowly returned the hug before he slouched down to his knees on the floor with Shea seated beside him.

“We wanna know what happened,” Dustin says as he kneels down in front of Eddie

“You won’t believe me” he sniffled

“Try us” Max said causing Eddie to look up at her before he sighed.

Rubbing his face with his hand Eddie spent the next few minutes trying his best to describe exactly what had happened at his place as Shea gently held his hand in hers, rubbing it with her thumbs trying to soothe him as he spoke. 

“Her body just like lifted into the air and uh, she just hung there and her bones god her bones just started to snap!” He cried rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“H-her eyes it’s like there was s-something in her head pulling them.” He sniffed, refusing to meet any of the party’s eyes.

“I-I didn’t know what to do so I- I ran” 

“I tried to wake her but I-it was like she was in a trance or something”

“Or under a spell,” Dustin added

“A curse…” Eddie added on further completely mystified at the idea that this was all really happening

“Vecna’s curse…” Dustin said somberly as if just realizing something.

“Fuck you guys think I’m crazy.” Eddie sighed as he came to the end of his explanation shaking his head as he looked back down at the floor.

“You’re not crazy Eddie, far from it” Shea tried to reason with him but Eddie just snatched his hand from hers and shook his head again.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” He screamed visibly shaking now. He knew how this sounded to any sane person, hell if he had heard something like this he’d personally be high tailing it outta there ready to send the guy on a one-way trip to Pennhurst.

“We’re not! We believe you!” Dustin reiterated as he tried to calm his friend. He reached out to touch his hand but Eddie flinched away, saddening the teen as he did so.

“Look what I’m about to tell you might be a little …difficult to take in.” Eddie looked at Dustin like he was crazy but slowly nodded his head anyways.

“You know how people say Hawkins is cursed?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re not..way off”

The group all takes a seat surrounding Eddie as they begin to explain to him about El and the upside down and everything that’s been going on in Hawkins since the beginning.

It was nearing 1 am when the group decided it was time they left so that their parents didn’t go out looking for any of them. Shea was skeptical about leaving Eddie behind again, offering to let him stay at her place once again, but with the cops now involved everyone thought it best to let him stay where he was. 

“Don’t worry Hops I’ll be ok” he said holding her hands as the rest of the group began leaving the boathouse. Trying to reassure both her and himself. 

“Are you sure? I can stay with you” she asked as her thumb rubbed over his pig ring. She looked down t the ground before looking back up at his face searching his eyes but he looked away from her putting his other hand over hers before letting her go.

“Nah you have work in the morning I’ll be fine” Shea looked back at him one last time before she walked out the door, Eddie watching her through one of the boathouse windows. He watched her as she went to open the back door but was stopped by Steve. 

“Can we talk for a minute?” Steve asks pulling Shea to the side, closing the car door behind them

“What’s up, Harrington?” She sighed, she was still pretty irritated with him and didn’t really want to hear what he had to say.

“When Eddie had that bottle at my neck…for a split second my whole life flashed before my eyes and I thought I was gonna die with you still mad at me over something stupid.” He sighed

“Look Shea I’m really sorry ok? I was outta line-“

“No I uh I get it Steve,” she said pushing her hair from her face. “the whole Billy thing I get it you’re just being…well you” She sighed again, really what more could she expect from Steve Harrington?

“You’re like the brother I never knew I needed.”

“Someone’s gotta look out for you shithead” he chuckled as he grabbed her shoulder reassuringly and pulled her under his arm in a side hug 

“So we’re still cool?” He asked.

“Like the other side of the pillow Harrington”

She says pulling him into a tight hug.

 From the window of the boathouse Eddie could see her wrap her arms around Harrington and he could feel a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach watching them.

tag list: @imatrisk @spoonflix @elitesanjisimp @sadbitchfangirl

[queenimmadolla]

HAPPILY. Let’s talk, and of course we have to do this via screenshots sent from other people because I blocked you since I didn’t trust you to not send anon hate given how you’ve done it in the past (and ironically this morning I had something very ignorant in my inbox from an anon that sounded an awful lot like you) and you have me blocked bc I’m assuming you realized I blocked you.

Why would I assume you’re white? Could it be this post in which you group yourself with white writers then pointed out how a reader in your work was once white coded? Applaud you for correcting it, but generally POCs don’t fall into the habit of white coding their readers given the fact that they’re not you know, white.

Now let’s hit on what started all of this, your post (which you made sure to state had no disrespect to Evie—though everyone is already aware you had no respect for her at all given your previous account and what transpired there), rather than talking it over with Evie or simply making a general message, you made sure to publicly comment in a negative fashion on a writer’s (whom again you have already disrespected previously for no real appropriate reason) work, and equate it to police brutality—yet, I have never seen you comment on Hopper fics who is the chief of police. Additionally, your sudden activism seems to have only begun once you no longer became associated with others as a result of your previous conduct and only once an account in which you have directed negative thoughts and statements towards in the past is involved.

Now why did I have a problem with your post? Not because of the Evie mention, she can fight her own battles (and I for one do not feel the need to take it upon myself to harass another writer on behalf of my friend), but because of your little police statement, as someone who has been involved in a altercation regarding law enforcement misconduct and fear tactics, harassment and aggression, I find it really fucking stupid that you somehow associated having sex in a cop car with a fictional character made into a cop—and not even given a documented history of misconduct of any kind by the way—to be in a way shape or form similar to real life fucking events or cop propaganda. That angered and hurt me because (and this is predominantly associated with the black community) fictional romances with cops are not a major concern of ours, the real life shit we’re facing on the streets is.

I haven’t seen you speak up about Hopper, and Law and Order (the fandom on tumblr which must be keeping you up at night with their existence), 9-1-1, Brooklyn 99, really any of those cop show fandom reader inserts. Nor do you have any beef with detective Eddie AUs, and I’ve seen a couple.. Truthfully, I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you cause that screenshot you have has a very a clear message.

Thanks.

[whirlybirbs]

Either “alright daddy long legs, next joke please” or “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?” Maybe both if possible with thic boi hopper? Have a wonderful day! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

----   BACK SEAT  ;

summary: hopper + reader go on a date, it goes well, he tells you about sarah, you make-out, it’s interrupted. another date is planned.word count: 2.1kpairing: hopper x teacher!reader, from my fic moonrise radio.a/n: we love some steamy make-outs.

Enzo’s is packed. 

Not that you’re really noticing, because all of your attention is stuck on the man across the table from you. Hopper has a beer in his hand and he’s smiling, corners of his lips upturned in a sweet sort of way that makes your heart swell.

Nerves bite at your fingers as you grasp the stem of your wine glass and try your best not to shrink under the gaze of the man across from you -- it’s full of a heavy affection you can’t rationalize deserving, not so early into the evening.

You duck your gaze, sip your port, and then look at him again with a smile. He’s magnetic. You can hardly look away. 

Hopper wonders when the last time he’s felt like this was -- maybe when he was married? Maybe before the loss of Sarah? When he was really alive? Your lingering gaze has his heart beating and for the first time in years, he can feel it.

“What?” he asks a bit amused. His knuckles drum on the white table cloth.

“Nothing,” you chirp, smoothing the napkin out on your lap, “... S’ just funny t’ see you sitting at a table three times too small for you.”

Hop snorts. “I’m a growing boy --”

“Alright, daddy long legs.”

He gives a laugh at that -- it rumbles like a summer thunder storm. Warm and electric. You lean back into your seat, admiring his smile. There’s something so grounding about the sound of his laugh and you’re left wondering if you’ve really got it that bad already for the Hawkins’ Chief of Police.

It’s only the first real date, for Christ’s Sake.

“Are you, uh -- Are you flirting with me, Miss Murphy?” he asks, tilting his head as he snags his own napkin and lay it out along his lap.

In your peripheral, you see two trays of pasta coming your way.

“I’m so glad you finally noticed, Chief Hopper.”

Dinner is done quick, scarfed down with intermittent pokes of fun, and by the time you’ve both cleared your plates, the sun has set and the moon is hung high -- you’re suddenly aware of how easy it is to spend time with Hopper and you can feel yourself slipping into dangerous territory. 

Attachment.

Not that... well, not that you hadn’t already become attached.

But, this is different. This is sticky and gooey and warm and plays to the tempo of a love ballad -- it’s new but it’s old, you’ve been here before and it’s never been good. Never been this good. 

Suddenly, Enzo’s is very busy. Jim isn’t the only one in the room and every insecurity you’ve ever had is seated around you, dining on the doubt brewing in the back of your mind.

Maybe Jim sees it on your face.

Maybe he feels the same.

You’re not sure.

“You, uh... You like ice cream?”

He pays, and he holds open the door for you -- his Blazer starts with a cough and Hopper offers a soft look in the light of his dash. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say slowly, waving it off, “Just... I dunno.”

There’s a moment’s pause as he backs up, heading towards Doc’s Scoops, the local ice cream joint ten minutes from the center of Hawkins. It’s El’s favorite.

“Dunno what?” it’s gentle, said with a quick glance, “Murph?”

You blink at him, realizing his face is twisted into worry. That kicks you up into a mild panic and you move to grab his hand resting on the gear shift. 

Blue eyes go a bit wide. Then he gives your hand a squeeze, worry still very much there. “Hey, hey... What’s up?”

“I just... I haven’t dated in a while,” you say finally, spitting the words out with a weighted amount of sheepishness, “That’s all. I guess... I guess I’m just nervous.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while -- but, his face softens into a knowing smile and he nods a bit. He doesn’t let go of your hand, though. Instead, opts to brush his thumbs over your knuckles. It’s a gesture of understanding that quells the doubt nibbling at your heart.

When you both pull into Doc’s, he finally speaks.

“Me, too,” he says slowly, “About the whole... haven’t dated in a while thing.”

“Yeah?” you ask, with a bit of surprise in your tone.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, as if it’s common knowledge.

You both hop out of the Blazer and move to stand in line; you make a point to stand close to him, prompting the small town Police Chief to drape an arm around your shoulders. You lean into his chest, enjoying the proximity while you can. 

“You wanna split something?”

“Hell no,” you mutter even-keeled, squinting at the menu, “Get your own.”

Hopper laughs, ducking his lips to the crown of your head. It makes you smile.

“God, I am so into you.”

You both sit in his trunk, feet swinging, as you eat your ice cream. 

The parking lot is busy -- full of teens and parents and folks that all seem to know Hopper; casual waves are tossed his way by fathers and mothers alike. You wonder, offhandedly, if the two of you will become a piece of the small town gossip mill. 

“I,” Hopper says, digging his spoon into his brownie sundae, “was married. A long time ago.”

You blink. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he nods, swallowing the anxiety that comes with sharing this piece of his life, “Yeah, uh, for seven years.”

You pause, turning back to your ice cream before speaking slowly. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

It’s said with such a sense of humility and honesty and care that Jim is suddenly not so terrified of telling you about Sarah’s -- he turns to eye you in the lights of the parking lot and realizes you’re already looking at him, eyes full of somber adoration. 

“We had a girl,” he chews a chunk of brownie, “Sarah. She passed away. And it got really hard. Diane moved on and I didn’t, not for a long time.”

Your heart strings snap. 

You don’t know what to say. Hopper can see it.

“I’m sorry, Hop.”

A shrug. “I was in a bad place for a long time -- and then El came along and... I dunno. I don’t feel so sorry anymore. She’s my second chance, y’know.”

Hop figured his words would create a divide between you both -- things would get uncomfortable and cold and you’d push away; but, when you nudge his thigh with your knee and lean into him a little more as you lick your cone, he tries to hide the pleasant shock on his face.

“You’re a good man, Hopper.”

He laughs. “I dunno about that --”

“Yeah, well,” you chirp, leaning back onto your hand, “I’m into you. So.”

His lips turn upwards beneath his mustache.

“Tell me more,” he goads, “Is it the fact I’m inhaling this brownie sundae after a full course meal?”

“You’re a growing boy.”

You both snicker into your desserts.

He drives you home, a bit slower than usual. With the radio playing and the windows down, Hopper tries his hardest to sear this memory into his brain. You’re beautiful and he’s happy and you’re holding his hand. Above you, on the winding road towards your cul-de-sac, the stars twinkle.

His engine cuts when he pulls up in-front of your home.

In the light of his dashboard, you both feel like teenagers.

“I had fun.”

“You wanna do it again?”

“What’re you doing tomorrow?” you ask slowly, leaning to smooth down his collar.

In good humor, Hop’s smile quirks. “So soon?”

“Well, I dunno --” you laugh a little, content with the close proximity as he leans an arm across the top of the steering wheel and turns to face you, “I like you.”

Another laugh. It’s crackling with electricity. His eyes jump to your lips.

You see it and you smile.

“How about a movie?” he asks quietly, attention far from the words he’s saying, “I heard the drive-in’s are nice.”

“I like movies.”

“I like you,” he mumbles as your fingers hook into his button down and he pulls himself closer, nose brushing yours as your eyes roam his face greedily, “So let’s see a movie tomorrow.”

“And make-out in the backseat,” you ask innocently, “like two teenagers?”

He laughs, eyes fleeting shut. “... Is it bad I kinda wanna do that now?”

You mirror his laugh, squirming a bit closer and shaking your head. “No. Is it bad I was waiting for you to ask?”

“No,” his hand falls along your cheek, “Because I was taking too long anyways.”

He surges forward then, warm palm grappling with your cheek as you smile right into the kiss. Even in a moment this tender, he looms over you, bulky shoulders turning as you drape yourself across the center console and try to meet him half-way -- his facial hair tickles, especially when you pull apart for a quick breath and he moves to litter little drags of kisses along your cheeks.

Your lips meet again with a new sort of fervor, all the excitement bubbling over into the gesture. You can’t help but move to lean into his seat, his hands getting lost in your hair as you knot your own fingers in his brightly patterned shirt. 

The backseat sounds nice. 

But, before either of you can suggest it, a loud tapping on the passenger’s side window startles the living ghost out of you and you jump six feet in the air. 

Sure enough, there’s your elderly neighbor, Mrs. Johnson standing there in her pink bathrobe and curlers.

You gawk. 

Jim’s smothers a laugh with his hand.

You quickly crank the window down.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment crawling up your skin, “Hi, Mrs. Johnson --”

“Hi dear, is... Is that you, Jim Hopper?” she asks, squinting, “I told Jerry, I said I think that’s Jim’s car! How are you, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I’m good, Beth,” the Chief offers, leaning over you and patting your thigh affectionately in silent apology, “I’m good -- you’re up late, huh? I was just giving Miss Murphy a ride home, I heard there’s been some wild coyote sightings around here.”

“Oh, goodness,” she waves a shaky hand and you realize the poor old woman had no idea what she’d just interrupted, “Well, I best head in, then.”

“Have a good night, Beth.”

“Bye, Mrs. Johnson.”

You crank the window up and drop your head into your hands.

Promptly, both you and Jim burst into laughter.

“Oh my god,” you groan, “We’re teenagers. We... We just got caught --”

Jim snorts, voice high. “She had no idea.”

“Oh, Jim! Jim Hopper!” you imitate, “Oh my god, I cannot believe --”

“Thank god we weren’t in the back,” he says, “That woulda been worse.”

You snort, leaning on the center console and smothering your smile. “I almost asked you --”

“Same here.”

Jim moves, then, nudging you with his shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple that’s reverent more than anything. 

“Tomorrow.”

“What,” you laugh, “Tomorrow we’ll get caught in the back?”

“Hey, I know all the good spots in town,” Jim croons, nudging your cheek with his finger, “Plus, what’re they gonna do? Call the police?”

Your face splits into a divine, cunning, wicked little smile and Jim can’t help but mirror it.

“I’ll see what’s playing,” you say, carding a hand through his hair, “And I’ll call you?”

“Sure,” he says, leaning into the touch, “I’ll pick you up?”

“Sure,” you parrot, dragging him in for one last kiss before pulling away and gathering your purse from the floor, “And I’ll pay.”

“No,” he groans, “No -- enough of that --”

“Hey,” you pat his chest as you swing the door open, “Equal rights.”

He groans louder. “Bye, Murph.”

“I’ll call you!”

He watches you all the way through the door, where you part with a smile and a wave. He hears Cannoli bark before you toss him a kiss and the door shuts. Jim catches himself smiling.

Oh, he’s got it bad.

[empresskylo]

𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

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

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

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

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

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

\\ 

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just a small get together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so fucking right, Hopper was into you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bonus gif [yes it’s actually d.h.]

part 2

[rax-writes]

Title: Mitigation Fandom: Stranger Things Characters: Jim Hopper x Reader Word Count: 2,230 Warnings: Smut Notes: Request from anon for “Somebody asked for a hopper smut so: maybe he's been having the shittiest week of his life. He's been stuck in mud, got elbowed in the nose by some punk, and Callahan even ate his favourite doughnut! So, he gets home on the Friday night and the reader is just humming away at the kitchen counter, making dinner which smells GORGEOUS, and hopper just instantly gets in /the mood/ 😏😏💕”

There are just some days where you can’t win. The days where everything that could possibly go wrong does go wrong, and you can’t catch a single break. For Jim Hopper, today was one of those days.

It had started off the moment Hopper woke up. He had somehow managed to completely sleep through his alarm (he fully blames it on the fact that he had been snuggled up beneath the warm covers with you in his arms), and then when he got into his truck and headed to the station, he realized that he’d forgotten his cigarettes. It was far too late to turn back for them, even by his standards, so he just resolved to buy a new pack at lunch.

When Hopper arrived at the station, he let out a contented sigh of relief upon seeing a box from the best donut shop in town setting on the front desk. When he flipped open the lid, he found that the box was empty.

A glowering pair of eyes fell upon Callahan, who had just shoved half of the last donut in his mouth.

“Sorry, Chief,” Callahan managed to mumble through the donut packed into his gob, and Hopper just grumbled something under his breath and made his way to his office.

Unfortunately, a lunchtime break for cigarettes never came for Hopper. He got called off to help a panicked mother of six, who thought she’d lost one of her kids in the mall – but turns out, the little shit had just been hiding in a clothes rack. And on his way back to the station from that little excursion, he had to swerve to miss a dog crossing the street, which sent him into the mud off the side of the road. Due to the torrential downpour from the day before, there was just enough mud that his tires got stuck.

A half hour and a mud-covered pair of khakis later, Hopper made it back to the station, where he found Callahan and Powell trying to placate some angry young burnout outside. He let out a sigh and made his way over, hoping to put an end to the little confrontation. Just when he reached the scene, the tweaked-out jackass reared his arm back to swing at Callahan, only to punch Hopper straight in the face.

Before the kid even knew what happened, he was slammed against the hood of the nearest patrol car, Hopper firmly holding him down by the back of his neck. Callahan rushed to put him in cuffs and take him inside, and Powell stared at Hopper’s bloody nose and eerily calm demeanor with an expression that could only be described as a mix of bewilderment and concern.

“I need a cigarette,” Hopper said slowly, his tone low and serious. Quickly and wordlessly, Powell retrieved a pack from the front pocket of his uniform, and gingerly handed it to Hopper. After Hopper took one and went to hand it back to Powell, the latter shook his head.

“Keep it. You look like you need ‘em more than I do.”

Hopper muttered a “Thanks,” then took a seat on the bench on the side of the building, pulling long drags off a couple cigarettes until he felt relaxed enough to go back inside. That was when he remembered that his pants were covered in mud. Letting out a few curses under his breath, he checked his watch – 5:38 PM. Deeming it late enough to head home, he poked his head in the station just long enough to announce his departure, and then left.

He had expected you to be gone when he got home. While you occasionally stayed over, it was always just at night – usually after sex, or if your movie marathon ran too late. But when he parked the truck, trudged up the stairs, and did the special knock on the front door, he was delightfully surprised to hear your voice calling, “It’s unlocked!”

Hopper found you in the kitchen, multitasking effortlessly as you monitored a couple of pans on the stove, as well as whatever was in the oven – and it all smelled better than anything he’d ever encountered in his life. And the simple fact that you were in his house, wearing nothing but your underwear, one of his flannels, and a pair of slippers, cooking him dinner just because you wanted to – it all instantaneously turned him on beyond belief.

“Jane is at the arcade with her friends, and Joyce is picking her up afterwards for a sleepover with Will,” you explained absentmindedly, so focused on your cooking that you didn’t even turn around as Hopper kicked off his shoes by the door, and came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. “I’m really glad that they’ve been getting along so well. I think being friends is good for them both; shared experiences and whatnot. Anyway, I was at the store and saw these pork chops. I figured that sounded good, so I decided to make dinner with them.”

“I love you,” was his only response, gently brushing the hair away from your neck and peppering kisses along your skin.

“I love you, too,” you said, and he could hear the smile in your voice. You turned your head to kiss him, and your eyes widened when you saw the bit of dried blood on his nose. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Just some punk-ass kid,” Hopper stated dismissively, pulling you into a kiss before you could reply.

Normally, you would have just given him a quick kiss and returned to pestering him about what happened to his nose, but the way he kissed you was so deep and dizzying that you managed to forget about it entirely. One of his hands cradled your head, while his other arm remained wrapped around your waist, your back pressed firmly against his chest.

You were just about to fully lose yourself in the kiss when the kitchen timer went off.

But he didn’t seem to mind one bit, showing no intention of halting the kiss. You pulled away from him to murmur, “Jim, the food,” against his lips, smiling at his fervor. He let out a little humph, chasing after your lips as he kissed you once gain. You kept this one quick, however, pulling away again and giving him a falsely stern expression.

“At least pause while I finish up dinner.”

“Fine,” Hopper grumbled sarcastically, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He moved to lean on the counter next to you, watching you intently as you removed the food from the oven and off the stove. He’d always adored the way you looked when you were focused on something.

You pulled your oven mitts off as you turned to him, putting your hands on your hips as you smiled playfully at him.

“Do you want to eat now, or later?” you inquired, and a smirk spread across Hopper’s lips.

“Now. But not the food.”

Before you could even blink, he was on you in one swift step forward, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, pressing your back into the counter and his lips against your own. This kiss was more feverish and desperate than the last. It was as if he needed to kiss you, to touch you – and that was precisely how he felt.

It wasn’t long before Hopper’s hands wandered down to the backs of your thighs (not without lingering on your ass, of course), and he hoisted you up onto the counter, without ever breaking the kiss. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer to you – but that apparently wasn’t what he had in mind. His hands found your knees, gently pushing them apart; just enough for you to get the hint that he wanted you to remove them from encircling him. He wasted no time in pulling your underwear down your legs and heedlessly tossing them over his shoulder, before kneeling in front of you. The position would likely be disadvantageous to most, but all six-foot-three of Jim Hopper put him at eye-level with your core – which was exactly where he wanted to be.

The second you felt his tongue against you, an involuntary moan escaped you, as one of your hands grabbed a fistful of his hair, while the other remained on the counter, the only thing keeping you upright. He ate you out like a man starved, progressively getting more intense and vigorous. He knew just how to build you up to the point that you were a mewling, writhing mess, one of his hands holding your hips down to steady you. And when he used his free hand to slip two fingers into you, curling them in a ‘come hither’ motion, you were a goner.

You were still coming down from your high when you felt his arms around you, and he began showering you with kisses, across your neck and face, as you leaned against his broad chest, panting slightly as you regained your breath. Hopper gave you time to relax a bit, before pulling you into a deep kiss. You could still taste yourself on his lips, and the combination of passion and tenderness in his actions stole every thought from your mind besides him.

Hopper gently patted your knees again, and you got his hint, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands returned to their spot beneath your thighs. He effortlessly carried you to his bed, then laid you down and removed his clothes, your eyes hungrily watching his every move. He quickly retrieved a condom from the drawer on his bedside table, before crawling on top of you and kissing you with that same tame desperation.

You pushed against his shoulder, and he did as you bade him, moving off of you and leaning against the headboard as you quickly followed, straddling his hips. Your hair tickled his face as you grinded down on him, a sharp intake of breath leaving his lips at your actions. Your hand found his and you took the condom from him, purposefully taking your time to slide it over his length. He groaned softly against your lips as your hand surrounded him, and Hopper’s grip on your waist tightened when you used his cock to tease your entrance, a low moan escaping him.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be mean. Just… fuck, I need you.”

You were more than happy to oblige his request, sinking down onto his length, as the two of you let out simultaneous moans. You rested your head on his shoulder, breathing slowly as you took a second to adjust to him. His hands migrated to your hips as you began to move, raising up before sinking back down on him again. Low groans fell from his lips like a mantra as he watched you move with lust-clouded eyes, occasionally joined by quiet curses.

It wasn’t long before Hopper could tell that you were nearing your end, and in truth, he was thankful for it – he wasn’t entirely sure how much longer he could last. Watching you ride him – the way your eyebrows furrowed together, the breathy little moans that fell from your kiss-swollen lips, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, undoubtedly leaving little crescent-shaped imprints on his skin – it was all drawing him towards his climax at an expedited rate. He snaked a hand between the two of you and began rubbing fast, little circles on your clit. More lascivious moans tore their way from your throat, which were quickly swallowed by his ravenous kiss. Your hands began to grip his shoulders even tighter, fingertips digging into him as your walls tightened around him, arriving at your climax once again. The frequency of his cursing increased, and he let out a delicious, low moan as he followed suit.

Your arms wrapped around Hopper’s neck and you rested your forehead against his, as his arms encircled your waist in a languid embrace. You were both breathing heavily, eyes closed as you both enjoyed the post-coital bliss. You were the first to move, kissing him softly before you rolled off him, lying on your back while still attempting to catch your breath. He leaned down to press a lingering kiss your forehead, then got up and left the room for a bit. He returned with a glass of water in hand, which he gave you to take a drink from, before setting it on the nightstand and lying down next to you, pulling you into his arms. You laid your head on his chest and snuggled into his side, neither of you saying a word.

After about ten blissful minutes, you groaned.

“What?”

“We’ve still got to either eat dinner, or put it in the fridge,” you complained.

“We’ll go eat in a little bit. Just lay with me for a minute,” Hopper murmured drowsily, kissing the top of your head. You nodded and nestled back into him.

More time passed by, then you rested your chin on his chest to look up at him. He opened one eye and peered down at you, and you smiled.

“So… how was your day?”

Hopper smiled before kissing you softly, and you could feel him smile against your lips.

“Definitely much better now.”

@whoarumancek @gertrudyorkes @v-writings @shirostellations @babiijayla @suckmysweetsweetsweetass @not-a-glad-gladiator @myblackwings5 @queen-of-the-pineapples @myfriendmagislit  feel free to let me know if you’d like to be tagged / untagged ♥

[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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[a-singleboat]

History Between Us

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), alley way sex, honestly just sex with Hopper

18+

You were in town for the week, visiting your mother after living in the too-big city of New York for the past several years. It had been a while since you’d seen her, often busy with work at the office amongst other things. Things like forgetting to pay your rent on time and working overtime just to get a little more money into your pocket, but it wasn’t like you would be telling her that. She had enough to worry about as is.

But spending time with your mother made you realize how much you missed small-town living. You missed knowing everyone and everything that happened, not that you were one for gossip—a lie you told yourself as you tried not to miss home too much.

Strolling through the town square, you sighed as the familiarity of being back in Hawkins quelled your anxiety for the time being. After spending nearly an entire day just catching up with your mom, you decided that it was time for you to reconnect with the community. To remember what you had almost forgotten about living in a small town such as this one; keyword being almost.

Everyone and their mother had been excited to know you were back, wanting to know if you’d be back to stay or if “big city life” was just as grand as it seemed. While you were happy to answer any questions that old friends had, you had no other answer than to say that things were fine and that you were glad to be back. Whether you were staying or not was still on the table though you refused to disclose that with any of the curious shopkeepers that missed your help on the odd weekends that you used to work.

Thankfully, the shopkeepers had been merciful and spared you of the questions and instead told you all the details you had been craving since you'd touched back down in Hawkins.

Most of your friends from high school had moved on, either moved to Chicago (or a suburb closer to it) or the other side of the world. They had made it out, unlike the few others that had chosen to stay.

Joyce Byers was still here, earning herself the title of “Crazy Village Lady” in the time that you’d been gone. Though you didn’t agree with the others, thinking that she deserved some reprieve after her youngest had gone missing. But you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to taint whatever relationship your mother had built up with everyone despite growing up with them.

Karen Wheeler was still the prim and proper, built-to-be-a-mother woman that you had known her as. You remembered the baby shower invitation well, her daughter Nancy growing up to look like the spitting image of herself when she was a teen.

You had chuckled at that, knowing that if Nancy was anything like her mother, she was sure to deviate from that scripture the second she turned eighteen.

You made a left turn at the lights, parking in front of the town’s library. While you were here, you figured you could run one more errand for your mother.

As you entered the old building, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to the one person you had been avoiding talking about. Or else known as the one person you had desperately wanted to know about.

In fact, you were so desperate to know about him that you kept it a secret, not showing any want or need to hear anything about him or how his life had been. Thankfully, those details had eluded your ears so far.

Thankfully, there was no gossip about your high school sweetheart, sweetheart used in the lightest way possible, Jim Hopper.

In a way, you supposed that it was good that no one mentioned him. That way, you couldn’t go out looking for him even if you wanted to. Those long nights together were long forgotten and you wanted to keep it that way.

At least you did until you saw him.

The uniform fit him, you decided, as he walked into the library with a confident air gently floating around him. The afternoon sun through the windows painted him in a way that made him look like an angel, though you knew he was anything but.

He looked different than you remembered, looked more like himself, though you were sure it was just time that had molded him into someone that you could just barely recognize and recognize all at the same time.

You absolutely hated it.

You leaned over to the librarian you had been talking to, Melissa, and grimaced, “Does he always look like an ass, or is it just my lucky day?”

This earned you a chuckle, the older woman patting your hand. “The book you're looking for is on the first aisle, right by your old table.”

She gave you a knowing look before readjusting her glasses, going back to the newspaper that you were sure was dated from a week ago. You frowned slightly, nevertheless thanking her before going to get it.

Your table was no different than you remembered it, the first initial of your name followed by a plus sign and a J still carved into the far right corner. The heart around it had peeled with time, and with use you were sure. Your frown only deepened as you ghosted your fingers over the worn-out letters.

High school seemed so far away and yet here it was, standing in the same building you were.

You quickly busied yourself with looking for the book your mother had requested, a cookbook that she had probably rented out a million times before. You always asked why she didn’t just buy it from the library and her reply was the same as always.

“I wouldn’t want to steal the knowledge from others,” her soft voice replied. “It wouldn’t be kind of me to do so.”

You should just buy a copy for her but you knew she wouldn’t accept.

“Y/n.”

Despite the years, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. You pulled the book into your arms, turning over your shoulder with your frown still evident on your face.

“Hopper.”

His smile, the very same that used to make you smile, dropped off his face.

“Doll, don't be like that,” he held his hands up slightly as if to show that he didn’t mean any harm. The old nickname made you more upset than it should have. “Listen, I know it’s been a good few years but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. You pushed past him, walking to Melissa’s desk. You ignored his attempts to get you to talk to him, checking out the cookbook as Melissa gave you an unamused stare. She checked you out, only looking at you in warning before bidding you goodbye.

You left the library, Hopper following at a gentlemanly distance away, and you nearly made it to your car before he approached you once again.

“Look, doll, I meant to call and you know that. Just give me a chance to talk. I just—“

“You just what, Hopper?” You fixed him with your meanest glare, trying to look as unamused and uninterested as you could while holding the pink-and-white cookbook to your chest. “You just forgot? For three years, you just forgot to call after leaving with no warning but a crumpled-up receipt on the fridge saying you’d be back later? You know, if you did call all those years ago, maybe I’d hear you out but no, you didn’t, and now you get to live with that. Okay?”

Maybe calling him your high school sweetheart was a stretch but those three years that he had spent with you after serving in Vietnam made him more than that. Not only had you helped him through his daughter dying and his marriage falling apart, but he had helped you after your dad passed the year after. Jim Hopper had become a steady constant in your life before leaving you like you were a random chick he’d picked up at a bar.

Frustrated, you pulled open your car door and threw your bag and cookbook into the passenger seat. You sighed, softening your tone before meeting your eyes with his once more. “I gave you a chance, Jim, but you left me. Remember that.”

You don’t know how it happened, but the next thing you remember was being pushed up against some brick wall as Hopper’s lips crashed almost painfully into yours. It was dark now, the sun had set during the time you had spent yelling at him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he enveloped you in everything that was so him.

His lips separated from yours, following a line down the side of your neck as you scrambled for his belt buckle. You undid it messily, moaning as he rediscovered that sweet spot right behind your ear and sucked bruises there for you to find in the morning.

You uttered his name breathlessly as his hands found the end of your skirt, hiking it up before pulling your panties to the side. Hopper’s fingers skillfully found your clit, using the moisture from your already wet pussy to coax more moans from your lips that were already swollen from his own.

“Hop—“ your heart skipped a beat as Hopper slid his fingers into you, feeling bigger than you’d remembered. Your hands worked faster at freeing his cock from the confines of his jeans, his hard length weighed heavily in your hand as you jerked him off a few times.

He removed his hand from you, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you before hiking up your right leg to provide him access.

This was nothing like those nights all the way back in New York. No, there was something different about the way Hopper fucked you—something desperate. The way his hands felt on your skin only solidified your decision further as he muttered sweet nothings into your ear. As he fucked you against a brick wall behind the spot of your first date and if your last here in Hawkins.

There were no more words between the two of you as he dragged his dick up your slit, lubricating it before sliding in. You gasped as he bottomed out in you, almost crying at the rough sensation that you didn’t know that you missed until now.

It was quick, quicker than you would have liked but you knew the two of you were pressed for time. Your relationship was living on borrowed time as is.

“Next time,” Hopper promised in between heavy pants, groaning as you clenched around him. “Next time, we’ll take it slow but I need you right now.”

You almost believed his words, gasping for air as he thrust harshly into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his other hand, the one not occupied holding your leg up, slid down until it met your clit. He rubbed harsh circles into the bundle of nerves there, faster, faster, faster, until you came on his cock.

He was quick to follow, rutting into you until you felt the warmth of his cum spread through you. He thrust into you a few more times before slowing to a stop, only taking a second before pulling out of you.

You sighed in content, allowing yourself a moment of bliss before asking him to let you down. You readjusted your underwear, the feeling of his and your combined juices collecting in the cotton leaving you uncomfortable.

You fixed your skirt, the overwhelming silence growing between the two of you quickly becoming uncomfortable as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Knowing that this encounter was coming to an end, you reached up and gently pressed a kiss to his jawline. It was a heavy contrast from the rough sex the two of you had had just moments prior but you felt it was right.

“Doll—“ he tried again, only for you to interrupt once more.

“Please don’t.” You reached down to pick up his hat that had fallen to the ground, forgotten in the midst of whatever this was. You dusted it off and handed it back to him, your eyes barely meeting his.

He took it, looking helpless as you fixed your hair as best you could without a mirror. You were sure you looked a mess but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“I’ll see you around, Jim,” you stepped away from him. “Take care.”

You left him in the alley, leaving him as he had left you all those years prior but this time… This time you knew you weren’t going back.

[whimsylavender]

Jealousy (Stranger Things Preference)

This includes Hopper, Steve, Billy, and Alexei! If you’d like me to write for the other darlings (Mike, Eleven, Joyce, Dustin, etc) you need only ask!

Jim Hopper

- He is probably the least subtle, next to Billy that is

- Jim shows more physical signs of jealousy when he notices you caught up with someone else who is obviously, and badly, flirting with you

- He stepped away for one second and found someone else hitting on you

- Jim’s jaw clenches, his pupils replacing the colour of his eyes with an angry shadow

- He hangs back for a second, assessing the situation

- Your expression of obvious discomfort sets him off and he can’t hold back any longer

- Jim leans up against the bar, standing behind you, sliding his arms around your waist

- He doesn’t say anything, instead leans down to press a kiss to your jaw, your neck

- When the intruder begins to look uncomfortable, Jim straightens up and flashes a smug smile

- “Hows about you find some other target to creep on before I shove my boot up your ass? That sound like a good plan?”

- He sulks even after the intruder has left in a hurry, holding you on his lap and bathing in your full attention

- Jim makes sure to finish what he started and kisses you with a fiercely familiar passion

Steve Harrington

- Although he tries not to get jealous, Steve usually can’t help himself if someone goes too far

- At a party, he loses track of you just for a moment to get you both drinks and returns to see one of the boys a year younger than himself hitting on you

- Steve stands there in shock

- Everyone knows you two are together, so why would this kid bother trying to get in your pants?

- When he comes to his senses, Steve saunters over with drinks in hand and stands next to you, so close that you can practically feel the annoyance rolling from him in waves

- “You about finished here?” He remarks coolly, handing you your drink

- The kid, although similar in age to Steve, scowls and puffs his chest

- “You got a problem, Harrington?”

- Steve runs his fingers through his hair, sweeping it back and smiling - though there is no humour in his expression

- “No, no problem. I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to break any noses tonight. I mean, I am wearing a white shirt, it would just be a shame to stain it.”

- Steve says all this like he’s talking about the weather, but you know him well enough to pick up on the bitter undertone in his words

- When all is said and done, Steve dramatically flicks back his hair and gives you his winning smile

- “Shall we?” He offers you his drink and you roll your eyes but knock your cup to his, laughing

Billy Hargrove

- Pity the poor fool who tries their hand at flirting with you

- You wanted nothing to do with the jock, he was leaning against your locker when you were trying to put your things away for the day

- “So, how about drinks at mine?”

- His tone is obnoxious, seeping in arrogance, as though he believes he’s the hottest catch in school

- You ignore him, shoving your things away and slinging your bag over your shoulder

- When you turn to walk away, he grips your wrist to yank you around to face him

- “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

- Big mistake

- Neither of you noticed Billy, who had “finished” class early to come find you and drive you home. He was standing nearby in the hall, his expression reminiscent of the receding ocean building into the tsunami

- His eyebrows furrowed, gaze burning a hole in the poor jock’s head, fists clenched

- When he sees the grip on your wrist, Billy shoves everyone out of his way and grabs the asshole by the collar, jerking him away and making him choke

- Billy sees red, lifting his fist and making the jock flinch, whimpering

- However, Billy doesn’t hit him, only because you’re there watching with your wide doe eyes and he doesn’t want to upset that innocent face. Though, he leans very very close to the boy and snarls,

- “Stay away from my girl, unless you want me to break your leg and finish you with my car.”

- Billy leaves with his arm around you, ignoring the boy crumpled in shock on the floor

Alexei aka Smirnoff 

- For the short time you have been dating the Russian, things have reached an intensity to where Alexei is quite forward in protecting you

- He was leaning up against your car, waiting for you to get Slurpees in the convenience store

- Alexei, excited by your presence, glimpses you inside through the wide glass doors and perks up with a smile

- However, he loses his enthusiasm when he notices an older male standing too close to you to be friendly

- Alexei bristles, tapping on the car and trying to restrain himself. He doesn’t know that this stranger is making a move on you, maybe he’s just asking a question

- You turn around to head to the counter and Alexei recognises the panic in your eyes as the male trails behind you, with what appears to be the traces of a smirk on his face

- Alexei scrambles away from the car, impatiently waiting for the automatic doors to open and darts inside

- He grasps your hand, tugging you behind him and swivelling to face the stranger

- “Oh, is this your boyfriend? Not much to look at, sweetheart.”

- The strange male laughs, and though Alexei doesn’t quite understand, he recognises the condescending tone and the way you shrink back behind him, squeezing his hand

- Alexei scowls, gently releasing your hand as the stranger takes a step closer and reaches for you, ranting about how you need a “real man”

- Although he might not be as tall as the stranger, Alexei hits him, hard enough to stun him

- When the man doubles over, Alexei kicks his knee and forces him to kneel, at which point your furious Russian lover grabs the man’s shirt and glares

- “отвали.” Alexei hisses in warning, and launches into a string of explicit words that neither you nor the bloody lipped stranger understand

- It doesn’t take a translator, however, to comprehend that Alexei is threatening to do some very uncomfortable things to the man should he dare to upset his “люби́мая“

(i’m still learning russian, so please bear with me! x )

[chiefhoppersdarlin]

She Single?

Summary: the reader is Officer Callahan's sister and new in town. She runs into the Chief at the station.

Moving to Hawkins to open up the bakery of your dreams had been a difficult and daunting transition for you, but thankfully your brother, Phil Callahan, was letting you stay with him for the time being. Opening up a bakery in the sleepy town of Hawkins was no easy feat, but it was an untapped market, and one the area apparently needed. Business was booming and it left you very busy.

Just as you were ready to leave for work, you noticed Phil’s hat sitting on the counter. You groaned, realizing you needed to stop by the police station to drop it off for him, and that would make you about ten minutes late to open shop, but it was the least you could do for your brother after he opened up his home to you. So you snatched up the hat and ran out to your car, driving as quickly as you could get away with to try and get to work on time.

You came to a screeching halt in front of the station and ran out of your car, rushing through the front doors. You were stopped in your tracks, however, when you collided with something- no, someone very tall and solid. Panicked, you looked up and saw a gleaming badge that read Chief of Police. Great. You managed to collide with none other than Jim Hopper, the man your brother often described as a “grumpy old man.”

“I-I am so sorry sir,” you stuttered, terrified that you were about to get chewed out for not looking where you were going. Your eyes travelled up from the badge on his chest to his face to find a man far more handsome than you would have guessed from your brother’s daily ramblings about work.

“Sorry darlin,” he said at the same time, looking just as surprised to see you in his path. As you studied his face more, you found a warm gleam in his eyes and a small smile twitching beneath the rather glorious mustache that adorned his upper lip.

“Say,” he drawled, looking at you a little more intently. “Have I seen you before? You look awful familiar.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” you reply, running your fingers nervously through your hair. “I think I would remember meeting the Chief of Police. I’m new in town. (Y/N) Callahan.” You offered your hand out to shake his and he took it gently in his own. A small thrill ran up your spine as his large, warm hand encased yours. He certainly was a big man, and not nearly as old as Phil made him out to be either, no older than his early 40’s.

“Callahan? You wouldn’t be related to my officer, would you?”

“Yes sir,” you beamed. “I’m his sister. He left his hat behind this morning, so I came by to drop it off for him.”

“Callahan never mentioned a sister, especially not a pretty thing like you. Well I’m Chief Hopper, but you can call me Jim.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Jim,” you said with a blush, both at the compliment and at the realization that neither of you had yet released your handshake.

“Pleasure is all mine,” he shot back, the smile under his mustache widening.

It was just then that none other than Phil Callahan rounded the corner, and you pulled your hand away quickly, feeling like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You stifled a bashful smile and turned to hold out your brother’s hat to him.

“Oh my hat,” he said excitedly, completely oblivious to your interaction with the chief. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

“It was no trouble,” you said brightly. While you had been cross about it earlier, running into Jim- quite literally- had made the detour worthwhile. You glanced at the clock on the wall and realized you only had a few minutes to get to the bakery on time.

“I really must be going now. The bakery isn’t going to open itself. I hope to see you around, Chief. I offer a special discount for the boys in, well, tan.” You gave him a once over and a wink, one your brother didn’t catch, and turned to leave the station before Hopper had a chance to respond.

“Sister, huh?” He asked, turning to Callahan and stroking his mustache in contemplation. “She single?”

“Don’t even think about it, Chief.”

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

Lipstick Stains

Jim Hopper x Reader  - 621 words  -  Part 1 of 1

Warnings: “damn” is said like once...do y’all need a warning for that lol?

Notes: Fluff!

Summary: Super cute brunch date: AKA the only time Jim is late for work on purpose.

You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering which sweater looked the best. Or, maybe it was the flared jeans that weren’t working? You didn’t know. And of course, that was the problem. You’d been on your fair share of dates through high school decades ago, and enough in your adult life to know you shouldn’t be so worked up about your clothes. But why did you have to pick a breakfast date? You had no idea what to wear to a breakfast date, and across town your date was wondering the same thing.

Hopper stood in front of his bathroom mirror grimacing at the tan uniform in the reflection. You’d both been so excited about this first official date that the idea of going to work after didn’t matter until now. It was easier for you, the library’s archives didn’t exactly have a strict dress code- unlike the chief of police. You couldn’t decided what was throwing you off but time was up- and you were stuck with the old and comfortable outfit that didn’t seem to lay right no matter how many times on your way to the car you tugged and tried to adjust the fabric. Across town Hopper gave up on straightening his shirt and headed out to the dinner on Second Street.

You’d been together for months now, and even though this was technically the first date, you were both so nervous it was absurd. Hawkins was a small town, everyone knew everyone else and you were no exception. Of course you each knew the other existed for most of your lives.You got together right before the kids went on Christmas Break. Your sister was out of town and asked you to pick your niece up from the middle school’s Snow Ball. He’d been waiting outside for El and it was only supposed to be one shared cigarette while waiting. But instead you’d kissed and gotten so wrapped up in it you almost forgot to pickup your respective kids. But of course in Hawkins something always went wrong and that’s how you got here, months later, standing nervously outside a diner all together too nervous for this date.

Hopper had gotten there first, and was already seated and looking over the paper. It felt like you were shaking in your tennis shoes as you walked over, and you hoped your voice didn’t sound as small as you thought it did when you said, “Hi Hop.” The second he saw you, Hopper’s face lit up. He crumpled the paper trying too quickly to stand up. He wanted to tell you how amazing you looked in that sweater, how it fit you perfectly, but all he could manage was a flustered “hi” as he stood to greet you. Hopper pulled you into a quick hug, and you kissed him on the cheek before sitting down. “Damn you look,” Hopper threw you a lopsided grin, “amazing.” You blushed furiously, “jeez Hop this is like my oldest sweater.” Before he could respond a waitress interrupted. “Hi, I’m Shelby, Welcome to Syd’s! What can I get y’all to drink this morning?” “Coffee,” you both said at the same time causing you to dissolve into giggles. The waitress nodded and walked away. “Hey I’m sorry about this-“ Hopper said gesturing to his uniform, “didn’t really think that part through.” You shook your head, but before you could say anything your waitress was back with a pot of coffee. She left quickly and you tossed two sugars into your mug. You tentatively sipped the coffee before tossing in another, traces of your lipstick clinging to the mug. You stirred your coffee as you started again, “don’t be sorry. I love a man in uniform.”

[whirlybirbs]

☄     -----    MOONRISE RADIO. 

summary: you’re hawkins high’s new science teacher, faculty advisor for the newly reinstated hawkins av club, and crazy townie who overhears a russian comminucae on a broken ham radio. chief jim hopper is into it. joyce is a good wing-woman and the kids just want to listen the the buggles.  pairing: jim hopper x reader, murphy as a placeholder surname. rating: t, some swears. word count: 3.8k a/n: this is a season three au! here’s the set up for all the drabbles i am going to end up writing for hopper bc he literally owns my whole ass, thanks, enjoy ;)

Hawkins, Indiana is a small town.

For this exact reason, Chief of Police Jim Hopper knows everyone.

... Seriously.

Everyone.

Hawkins is kind of like Saturn: try to leave its orbit and you’ll get caught in the rings -- literally. Y’know, high school sweethearts marry one another, settling down, and boom! Hopper winds up at their end-of-the-cul-de-sacs on domestic dispute calls and reunites with that shithead co-captain of Hawkins basketball team who keyed his car Sophomore year.

Life in Hawkins is a never-ending cycle of existence that renders everyone in the small town a familiar face. Everyone knows everyone’s business. Everyone knows everyone. 

And everyone certainly knows Jim Hopper.

So, imagine his surprise when after her first day of high school, over a ravoli dinner, El nudges a crumbled pink piece of paper his way with an excited look on her face. The paper is well-loved paper and home to her new class schedule, a point of interest -- she’s marked what classes she has with the boys and Max.

“I like science,” she says with a full mouth, “Fun.”

El points to her sixth period.

Imagine Chief of Police Jim Hopper’s surprise when he sees an unfamiliar name. Someone he doesn’t know.

And she teaches science.

Summer fades with a wave of heat and full moons.

The last week of August creeps up on you and before you even realize it, you’re moving into the cleared out room of a retired Mrs. Gomez and hanging your own name up on the door along with three planetary mobiles, a periodic table and a big exo terra tank for the freshmen class pet on the back windowsill. 

One period turns into six, and a week turns into three.

Your life begins again, Hawkins style.

“Miss Murphy!”

You’re wiping down the chalkboard, smearing drawings of ionic bonds into dust when the stampede begins.

Typical Friday.

You like Mike and Will and Lucas and Dustin and El and Maxine. The little squadron of hellions had managed to win you over easily within the first three weeks of school -- between the abundant D&D references and constant “curiosity voyages”, you’d seemingly become their go-to with questions, gossip, and over-all mentor-ship. 

The whole bunch of them sat together in your sixth period class, and the whole bunch of them were really the only ones excited about Dash, that aforementioned freshmen class pet that you’d scooped up behind the school and saved from being roadkill.

El immediately wanders to the tank and makes sure the heat lamp is on.

You can’t help but smile. These are good students. You like them. They like you.

Maybe it’s because when you were younger, you were just like them.

It’s like a sixth sense. They just... know. 

“We have a question.”

“Is it about reptiles again?” you chirp, wiping your hands, “I don’t know, like, anything about komodo dragons, Dustin, I told you --”

“No!” Dustin waves his hands, hopping up onto the edge of your desk, “No, this is about the AV Club.”

“AV Club?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “The AV Club!”

You blink. All six of them are looking at you expectantly. You deadpan.

“You lost me.”

“She’s new here, guys,” Will sighs, gently nudging Lucas who makes an O with his mouth, “Remember?”

“Right, right, right,” Dustin sighs, waving his hands with a charismatic no-front-teeth smile, “Sorry, Murph, my excitement precedes me --”

You shoot Dustin a look. No nicknames. He knows the rule.

“Make it quick,” you groan, waving an apologetic Dustin off your desk as you begin to collect papers from the previous period, “I have the open house tonight and I gotta get some grading done before -- you’ve got fifteen to catch me up on this AV Club thing.”

Lucas claps his hands. They all settle into the desks in-front of you.

You narrow your eyes.

Mike begins.

“So, there’s all this old radio station equipment in the top of the gym...”

You wring your hands.

You fiddle with the hem of your dress.

This is nerve-wracking.

For the first time in a while, you curse the fact you’ve got mostly freshmen in your classes -- with every new round of bright blue visitors stickers, parents are eager to pick your bones when you begin talking about your curriculum, expectations and the like. I mean, it’s good, you guess, that there’s parents who are engaged but... as a new teach at Hawkins, you can’t help but feel like you’re missing a part of the bit.

It’s nearing the end of the night now and you’ve noticed the parents don’t greet you like they do the other teachers. Like... like friends.

Maybe it’s because you’re new.

New to the town, too. Not just teaching high school science, you mean.

You wonder if all the news stories pouring out of that Hawkins Lab have anything to do with how cheap rent is in the area. The multi-family unit you’ve settled into is in a nicer suburb in town -- green lawns, a playground, neighborhood BBQs... You’d moved on the pretense of your hiring, excited at the chance to get out of the city for a while and live a quieter life.

You jump six feet in the air when someone knocks on the door-frame of your classroom.

“Oh my god --”

Your hand flies to your chest.

“Uh, sorry -- Sorry, is this... is this Miss Murphy’s room?”

The first thing you notice is the badge. It glints in the florescence.

The next thing you notice is... him. I mean, he’s tall -- tall and broad and intimidating but... soft. His eyes are tired and his voice is quiet and you’re staring, Jesus Christ, you’re staring --

Chief of Police Jim Hopper has never felt smaller.

You’re new -- definitely new. Hopper knows, in that moment, that you must be, He would remember someone like you. I mean, how could he not?

(Everyone knows he’s got a soft spot for beautiful women, but he’s damn near mush right now. Pudding. His knees are pudding. He is an idiot and his knees are pudding.)

He makes the doorway look tiny.

You sputter. “Y-yes! Yes, it is. Hi, I’m, uh, Miss Murphy.”

“I figured,” he chirps, lips quirking under his mustache. He waves the piece of paper in his hands, “Kinda... kinda said so on the schedule, y’know?”

“Jim!”

Immediately, someone shoulders his backside.

Right in the damn kidney.

“Christ, Joyce, ow --”

“Be nice!” she cries with a laugh, stepping around him.

The woman is comically smaller than the police officer before you. Joyce has a kind smile and sweet doe eyes and she excitedly rushes to shake both your hands in her own.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she gushes, “Will has said so many great things about you --”

Your eyes widen. “You’re Will’s mother? Will Byers?”

“Yes!” she nods, “Yes, and, uh, this is Hopper --”

Joyce nearly snorts when Jim just blinks. She elbows him. He jumps.

He was staring.

“Jim Hopper,” he clears his throat, trying to regain any semblance of composure. This really knocked him off his game -- you really knocked him off his game. He was fully expecting some nasty old widow to be teaching, not a young, brightly dressed woman who’s smiling at him, Christ almighty, smiling, “Chief of Police.”

He offers his hand. You shake it and your lips quirk. “Are you... here to investigate me, or...?”

“Oh!” his eyes widen, “No, no, uh -- El is my daughter. Adopted.”

“Ah, right. Miss El. Got it,” you laugh a little, nodding, “Groovy.”

“Groovy.”

(Joyce narrows her eyes, grinning between yourself and Hopper. Groovy indeed.)

“She was nice.”

Jim’s cigarette glows red in the evening September air. Joyce, beside him, has this horrible, conniving look on her face -- the same look she gave him when she convinced him to ask Jenny Gonzalez out Junior year -- and Jim immediately goes on the defense.

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Miss Murphy,” Joyce grins, “I saw you staring.”

“I was not.”

“C’mon, Jim,” she chirps, “She’s pretty --”

“Yeah, a pretty bad idea.”

Joyce rolls her eyes so hard Hopper can feel it.

“Listen,” Jim says, flicking his cigarette into the pavement, “With everything goin’ on, I don’t have time for something like that.”

“Jim, stuff like that doesn’t care if you’ve got time.”

Joyce watches him climb into his truck. He slams the door shut,

“If it’s meant to be, it happens anyways!”

He narrows his eyes.

Then, cranks the window down and raises one finger.

“Not on my watch.”

Famous last words, Jim Hopper. Famous last words.

Happy Monday.

“I’m joining AV Club.”

“...What?”

“AV Club. Science. Fun.”

Hopper just takes a looooooong sip from his morning coffee. Eleven stabs her eggos. She forks a hunk into her mouth and chews.

Hopper takes another sip.

“AV Club.”

“Yes. Radios.”

“Radios.”

“Yes.”

You’re sweating.

The storage space of Hawkins High’s gym is ninety degrees at least -- and here you are, brandishing a flashlight in the dark as the Mighty Hellions dig through the space and pull box after box from the makeshift sauna.

“Think this stuff still works, Murph?” Maxine asks.

You ignore the informal nickname and pull open a box to eye a bundle of cables. They’re in good shape. The mic, at the bottom, is too if not a little grimy.

“I don’t see why not.”

After a grueling hour and a half, they finally set up shop in the closet across the hall from your classroom. It’s usually where they keep glassware and Bunsen burners but... with a little begging and a dejected look from Dustin, you grant them their plea and help them set up the impromptu radio station with relative ease.

The desk in the center of the room -- Mrs. Gomez’s old one -- is a little wobbly, but it works.

“And now,” says Mike, “The moment of truth.”

El flicks the switch.

And nothing happens.

Not so Happy Monday.

"How was AV Club?”

“Sad.”

Hopper’s mouth is full.

“Sad...?”

“Radio is broken.”

“Oh,” Hop hums, “M’ sorry, kid.”

“It’s okay,” El says slowly, looking out the window on the ride home, “Miss Murphy buying us new wires.”

Hopper blinks. “Miss Murphy?”

“Yes. Nice.”

Very.

Joyce rings you out the next evening at Melvald’s.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try Starcourt.”

You laugh a little. “What, that super mall?”

“I heard they’ve got everything,” Joyce chirps, “Will and the kids go there nearly every weekend. Ice cream, movies... you name it. A great place for a date, I bet.”

You laugh and pull out your wallet. “Oh to be young and in love.”

“No kidding,” she grins, taking the cash, “Speaking of... are you...?”

“Young?” you laugh, propping your elbows up on the counter, “Or in love?”

“Either.”

You like Joyce. She’s funny. 

“No,” you sigh, “Nope. No, not right now. Neither. I spend my Tuesday nights with wine and a TV dinner.”

“Y’know,” Joyce hums, a knowing look in her eye as she bags the radio supplies, “I know someone who does the same exact thing.”

It’s Miller High Life, actually. And Tostitos. 

That’s besides the point, though, because while Joyce is still very much on his case about the new science teacher, Jim is very much focused on the fact none of the stations god damn radios are working.

He could really go for a beer right now.

Something is jamming the signal.

Actually, to clarify -- the same fucking song on repeat is jamming the signal.

For the last two hours, it’s just been Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles over and over and over and over again. And then again, just for good measure. On the fourth round of the song, Jim had unceremoniously lobbed his walkie across the station. On the tenth, he’d yanked the chord for the radio out of the wall.

If Hopper hears that fuckin’ oh oh sound one more time, he’s going to lose it.

Callahan just shrugs when, finally, the music stops and the booming voice of Dustin Henderson comes over every walkie in the room.

“GOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING, HAWKINS INDIANA!”

Hopper peels into the high school parking lot.

Long strides carry him through halls that he knows way too damn well -- halls that wind and turn and lead him right to room 305. Your name is scrawled across the door alongside a picture of a constellation and a beaker.

But, the classroom is empty.

And then he hears it.

“-- OH OH! VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR! --”

“I am so sorry, Chief Hopper -- I had no idea that was the PD’s frequency.”

You’re wringing your hands but you’re also two beats from laughing and Hopper is really trying to keep it together because... I mean, it’s funny. 

Jim pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels bad. He... well, he probably shouldn’t have slapped the broadcasting mic out of Dustin’s hands. He’s got a short wire now-a-days, blame the whole Hawkins Lab incident and the fact he’s essentially harboring a fugitive and allowing aforementioned fugitive to go to high school and jam radio channels with Today’s Top 40 in her free time.

“No, no -- I... It’s fine. It’s fine, really, just...”

Hopper drops his hand. You’re trying your best to hide a smile that’s threatening to sweep across your whole face. 

“Do not let Dustin play any more of The Buggles, okay?”

You chew your lip and lean closer, whispering. “... Did it really play for two hours straight?”

Hopper’s nostrils flare. He nods weakly. You note the missing walkie from his belt.

And then you burst into laughter.

You buy more cassettes at Melvald’s the next week.

“Oh,” Joyce grins, holding up a Madonna album before scanning it across check-out with a beep, “Nice stuff -- is this for AV Club?”

You laugh. “Let me guess, Chief Hopper told you about ‘The Incident’?”

Joyce's lips quirk and she tilts her head, eyeing you carefully as you bite back a smile and muscle out your wallet from your bag. “... No, he did not.”

“The kids were on the wrong frequency,” you gesture, a bit sheepish, “And, I mean, I had no idea until Chief Hopper had to come to the high school and let us know that he’d been listening to Video Killed the Radio Star for two hours straight.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeah,” you raise your brows, pull a face and mimic the catchy hook, “Oh oh god.”

Joyce snorts.

“It’s not working!”

“Boys,” you sigh heavily, “Just... Just let me look at it.”

There’s a scramble and the sea of bodies part. Max and El are posted by the door, watching with a dejected sort of disappointment. Your knees hit the floor and you ignore the fact your jeans are going to be covered in nasty dust from the underside of Mrs. Gomez desk. Your necklace jingles and you sigh, settling on your back and waving for Dustin to pass you the flashlight.

“Did Hopper break it?” it’s Mike, “If Hopper broke it, I swear to shit --”

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

You squint, pushing apart the mess of wires and sighing loudly when you find the problem.

It’s... weird. Like... Like some of the wires have been chewed clean through.

“Looks like one of the wires is frayed.”

“Frayed?!”

You take the main component home with you.

It’s sitting on your passenger side seat when you pull into Melvald’s.

In the spot in-front of the store sits a Hawkins Police Dept. truck with a CHIEF decal on the side.

“She’s funny and smart and came in here and talked about you --”

“Talked about me?” Jim’s leaned against the counter, coke in his hands, “Hold on, what? You didn’t tell me that.”

“Yeah,” Joyce’s voice lilts, “She, uh, was telling me about The Buggles incident.”

Jim groans. 

“Oh, yeah, when I nearly drove my fist through the kids’ new hobby?”

“-- Funny, she left that part out --”

“I made an ass of myself, Joyce.”

“Hey,” Joyce coos, throwing her hands, “Maybe she likes that about you... y’know... your uncanny ability to be a... uh, an ass?”

“Nice.”

“I’m kidding.”

The shop door dings and Chief of Police Jim Hopper chokes on his diet coke.

You stop short in the doorway. 

The store is mostly empty -- it’s almost closing time, anyways -- and you can’t help but feel like you’re intruding on Hopper and Joyce’s conversation, especially when Hopper is cursing and wiping at the soda spilled down the front of him. 

Overhead, Movin’ Out by Billy Joel plays.

“-- Workin’ too hard can give you a heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack --”

“Miss Murphy!” Joyce grins, “Hi there!”

“Hi Joyce,” you smile, nearing the counter. You can’t help but hide a smirk as Hopper sighs and stands. He drops his hands to his side and you get a full view of the coke down the front of his uniform, “Chief.”

(A little part of him dies inside then.)

(Joyce sees it.)

“Evening, Miss Murphy.”

“Rough night?”

“Little bit,” he heaves, downing the rest of his soda and crushing the can. He lobs it into the trash can beside the register with ease, “Well, duty calls, ladies.”

“Duty calls?” Joyce asks, crossing her arms. Suspicion paints her features.

She’s trying to get him to stay -- trying to goad him into a conversation with you, just like she always does, but the problem is that Joyce is a great wing-woman and honestly? 

That kind of terrifies him. 

It’s been a minute and a half since he’s considered anything more than a one-night stand with someone. He’s been busy, y’know, saving this dimension and keeping a top-secret government facility secret. 

“Yeah,” he deadpans, not feeding into it, “Duty.”

“Duty.”

You blink between them both.

Jim’s out the door with the tinker of the overhead bell.

Ouch. You turn to Joyce.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Famous last words.

“Testing, one, two, three --”

You groan, switch frequencies one more time, and throw your hands.

Maybe the whole Hawkins High Radio Station idea was never meant to come to fruition. It hurts to admit it and you know the kids are going to be so damn upset, but no amount of soldering and wire replacements seems to be getting this hunk of junk to give out any sort of signal. 

You take a long drink from your glass of wine and collapse back onto the couch.

Then, you hear it.

"I’ll be sure to let Chief Hopper know, Miss Murphy.”

“Listen, I... Is he here? I’m kinda in a rush and this is sort of important --”

You’re pushing past Florence, the nice secretary, before you even realize it.

You’d known Hawkins was a weird town. That much was pretty clear from the odd disappearances, government labs and toxic leaks. But this... this is more than just weird. This is borderline panic inducing.

Hopper has a cigarette between his lips and his hat on his desk when you barge in.

He jumps six feet in the air and spills his coffee.

“Jesus --”

“Listen, Chief, I know you’re a real busy guy, but --”

“I am so sorry, Jim,” it’s Florence, moving to put herself between you and the Chief, “Miss Murphy, please, if you can take a seat, Chief Hopper would love to hear all about your top secret Russian communicae when he’s done his coffee --”

When Jim’s eyes widen a mile, you realize he knows something you don’t.

Jim feels small in your living room.

It’s a nice place -- furnished with plants and art and your TV has a stack of sci-fi movies atop of it. In the middle of your rug, though, sits the ham radio surrounded by a winding mess of wires. It’s off, and when you near it, you wring your hands. You’re nervous, he can tell. You can hardly stand still.

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

Hopper blinks. He clears his throat. “What?”

“This... Hopper, I swear, I heard Russian --”

“No, I... I believe you,” he says slowly, narrowing his eyes, “Hawkins is a...”

“Weird town?”

“Weird town.”

You nod slowly then, crank the on switch, and the radio hums alive in a language neither of you know.

Hopper just sighs. 

“... What do you know about radios?”

“It’s close,” you say finally, blinking up from the manual, “It has to be -- I mean, this specefic model only broadcasts and receives up to fifteen miles. That’s... what? Like, all of Hawkins?”

“Just about,” Jim hums, hands on his chin, “and what about the channels?”

“I mean, it’s messy -- I hijacked your frequency. On accident.”

Hopper smothers a smirk with a drag of his cigarette. You grin. His office back at Hawkins PD falls quiet for a moment and you catch yourself staring again. Across from him, you squirm a bit in your seat and turn your attention back to the Olympia Radio booklet. 

“There’s no way of tracking the channels,” you sigh, “I... I dunno. I’m kinda out of my element here.”

“What is your element?”

“Chemistry,” you chirp, “And biology. And some physics.”

“Chemistry, huh?”

“Speaking of which, I know you don’t like me much but,” you rush, blinking up at him, “Thanks for believing me.”

The moment would have been sweet if Hopper hadn’t reeled backwards, like he’s been punched. His face screws up in confusion and he waves, cigarette smoke halo-ing around his head as his mustache twitches.

“Wait... hold on --”

“It’s okay,” you console, “Seriously, I... I’m new around here, I... I get it a lot. Folks don’t really trust the new girl next door. Especially with everything that’s been going on.”

“I... I never said --”

You serve him a look.

“Duty?”

“... I panicked.”

“Panicked?”

Hopper sighs. “You’re just as bad as Joyce.”

Your brows raise. “Are you and her...?”

“No!” he cries, “No, no, I... I am single, I am very single, and I am very busy, but despite that, I still would like to ask you out to dinner, and that is terrifying, okay --”

You blink. “You... what?”

Jim’s about to try and dig himself out of his metaphorical grave when the radio flares up again.

You scramble to grab the recorder and Jim turns the volume up -- quickly, you record the repetitive sentence and when the line finally goes silent again, you spare Hopper a look.

“How about dinner and Russian For Dummies?”

[empresskylo]

hopper is your dad's best friend. you definitely should not be attracted to him. at the very least, he should definitely not be attracted to you...

a/n: i guess i lied, my next jim fic wasn't going to be stepdad!hop but rather dad's-bestie!hop. enjoy nonetheless.

masterlist

cw: smut, age gap, p in v, unprotected sex, power dynamic, size kink

jim hopper x afab!reader

wc: 3.1k

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓

You were sat at your dining room table flipping through a magazine when you heard your dad come through your front door. You lazily popped another chip in your mouth. You had one leg bent on the chair and the other dangling, your body looking painfully contorted but you swore it was more comfortable sitting like this.

“Dear,” your dad called out. You mumbled a response without lifting your eyes from the gossip article you were currently engulfed in.

Your eyes flickered up when you heard two sets of footsteps walk into the kitchen. Your cheeks flushed when you spotted the chief of police, Jim Hopper. Your father had been friends with Jim for years now, and you always had a little crush on him. Especially when he’d come over in his work uniform. 

You almost choked on the chip you were swallowing which gained an eyebrow raise from Hopper. You didn’t realize you were staring at him until you saw his eyes widen. You looked down and realized you were only wearing a frilly tank top and skimpy PJ shorts. You quickly crossed your arms to cover your chest, feeling self-conscious.

“Jim’s gonna be staying the night,” your dad spoke as he flung open the refrigerator door and grabbed a beer for him and Jim. He didn’t think twice about Hopper seeing you indecent like this. He was like family. He had known you since you were a kid. It was normal for him to be around all the time.

“Why?” 

“What? Already sick of my presence?” Hopper teased. 

You awkwardly fiddled with your hands that were resting on the table, feeling Jim’s heavy gaze on your frame. “His place is getting fumigated. Needs a place to stay for the night.” 

You nodded your head, refusing to look up and meet Hopper’s challenging eyes.

“We’ll be in the backyard, sweetie,” your dad said. Two sets of footsteps trailed to your back door and outside. 

You let out a sigh of relief. You shifted your legs, rubbing your thighs together awkwardly, your core throbbing. Fuck. Were you really that hot and bothered by just him being in the room with you for less than a minute? 

You spent the rest of your night in your room, wanting to avoid Jim at all costs. You lay flat on your bed, listening to a Stone’s song and flipping through the same Vogue magazine. 

Knock. Knock.

Your dad pushed your bedroom door open slowly, popping his head in. “Hey, kiddo.”

You halfheartedly smiled up at him. “Listen. I know you won’t be too happy about this, but I think it’s only polite if you sleep on the couch tonight.”

You paused your movement before pushing your magazine away and sitting up. “What? Why would I do that?” 

“Hop should sleep in a bed. You’re still young, you can handle sleeping on the couch for one night.”

“But dad,” you whined. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” He sighed. “I only want to be nice to our guest. Com’on, sweetie. Do your old man a favor.”

You couldn’t help but break into a smile. You stifled it down. “Fine.” Your dad grinned and winked at you before leaving again. 

Your stomach felt all funny inside. Hopper was going to be sleeping in your bed…

You quickly shot out of your bed and begin shoving your dirty clothes sprawled on the floor into your hamper and stuffed your loose papers inside your desk drawers. You tried to put everything away that might be embarrassing. As you were closing your bureau draw, you paused. You pulled out one of your pink panties and hid it so it was on the floor beside your bed. Maybe Hopper would see it. You smirked, a little tingle running through you at this dangerous game you were playing. 

You made your way down the hall to take a shower, staring at yourself in the steam-filled mirror. Your face was red from the hot water. You wrapped your towel tightly around your body and peered out of the bathroom door. You paused, listening for a moment. You didn’t hear your dad or Jim so you assumed they must still be outside. You crept down the hallway and slipped into your bedroom. As you stepped inside you jumped. Jim was there, sitting on your bed. You felt your cheeks warm, your arms quickly trying to cover your body more than your towel was allowing.

“Hopper…” you said exasperated. 

Hopper’s eyes trailed your exposed legs glistening from the moisture. The towel clung to your body, emphasizing the curve of your hips. Hopper cleared his throat before standing up. “Was just checking out my room for the night.” He looked at you as he walked closer. You backed away slightly. “You got a lot of stuffed animals in here.” You could hear the teasing in his voice. 

“So?” you whined. 

Jim smiled, clearly happy with the way he was flustering you. “Just an observation.” You could practically hear the grin on his face as he spoke. He slipped past you, whispering as he did, “The panties were a nice touch.” Your eyes widened. When you turned to look at him, he was already making his way down the hall. Shit, you knew that was a bad idea. Hopper may have stolen glances at you from time to time, but this was the first vocalized interest in you. And he knew you wanted it.

You quickly shut your door and let out a breath. You felt a warm feeling pool between your thighs. You felt dirty from the way Hopper was eyeing you. After taking a moment to steady yourself, you grinned. 

You were sweating as you laid, tucked in a warm blanket, while you tried to sleep on the couch. You huffed and looked up at the clock: 11:34 

Almost midnight and you still hadn’t fallen asleep. 

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, stretching your arms as you went. You halted outside your door as you were passing, hearing groans coming from the other side. 

Like an inexperienced idiot, you immediately thought Hopper must be having a nightmare, or maybe he’d hurt himself. You pushed open the door. “Hop—“ You were faced with Hopper relaxed on your bed, his shirt bunching up, his pants lazily unbuttoned, his hand stroking his thick cock, and your panties in his other hand. 

Your eyes almost fell out of your head, your face hotter than fire in embarrassment. 

Oh my god. Hopper is jacking off on MY bed.

You weren’t sure if you should be disgusted, flattered, turned on, or offended. The rush of emotions must have displayed perfectly on your face because Hopper stood up and pushed the door closed behind you, his body looming over you. His hands were on either side of your head against the wall, his pants still undone but his dick hidden back in his underwear to much of your relief… and dissatisfaction.

“Don’t act like you didn’t leave those for me to see,” he grumbled, referring to your discarded underwear. You gulped. “You knew what you were doing, little brat.” You gulped at the way his nickname for you had felt different in this context.

Hopper’s hand stroked your jaw, your body flinching at first. 

“No. I…” Your words got lost as Hopper’s dark eyes pierced you.

“No, hm? Fine, leave if that’s what you want.” Hopper backed away from you, buttoning his jeans as he slid back onto your bed. 

You stood there, your legs glued to the floor. Hopper looked up at you, raising a cocky brow. “So the little brat wants to play.” He whispered matter-of-factly, his voice was so deep that it came out in low rumbles. You felt a wave of warmth swim straight to your core. 

Hopper’s eyes flickered down as saw the way your thighs squeezed together, a smirk being drawn out across his lips. 

You were only covered by your oversized t-shirt that stopped about mid-thigh. Hopper was so grateful it was so damn hot out. 

He motioned for you to come to him. You hesitated, but eventually, you moved your feet so you were a foot in front of him. 

“I was thinkin’ bout you, you know.” 

Your thighs pressed together harder, your arousal surely dripping through your panties.

“Do you do that often? Think of me?”

He smirked, his large hands coming to grab your thighs which billowed out around his fingers. He nodded slightly. “I think bout you all the time. Thinkin’ bout all the ways I could ruin you.” His voice was soft as he leaned into you, placing a kiss on your clothed belly. Your hands immediately went into his hair, your fingers pulling at him slightly. Your body reacted to his touch before you even had time to think.

Hopper’s hands snaked upwards and pushed your shirt up so he could see your waist and soaked panties. He kissed you again, your t-shirt bunched in his hand, his lips now kissing your skin below your navel. You gulped as he moved further down, his mustache tickling you. 

He pulled back and looked up at you, your eyes wide with lust. “Gotta be quiet. Can't wake your old man.” You felt shame fill you when you remember just what was happening. Your dad’s closest friend that you’ve known since you were a child, was currently feeling you up–saying dirty things like how he has thought about you while getting off so many times–all while your dad was sleeping a few doors down. 

“Hop, I don’t think—“Your words were cut off with a gasp. Hopper could see your hesitation so he stroked you through your underwear, making you realize just how bad you wanted this. Wanted him.

“You were saying?” He asked sweetly as he slid your frilled underwear to the side and moved his finger along your soaking slit. 

Your grip tightened in Hopper’s hair, your head falling back in pleasure. Your earlier thoughts drifting away. 

Hopper pushed one of his fingers in, making you stifle a moan. “God. I’ve waited so long to know what you’d sound like.” Hopper removed his finger from you resulting in your face pouting. He quickly slid your panties down and you kicked them off. “Get on the damn bed,” he growled. 

You crawled on top of your comforter, your shirt riding up and exposing your bare lower half. 

Hopper shoved his jeans off and then was resting his body between your legs. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and you lifted your arms so he could take it off. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed as he watched your chest be revealed to him. 

Hopper leaned down and placed kisses along the swell of your breasts before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You groaned, biting on your nails to try and stifle your obscene sounds. 

“You ever been with a man?” He asked as he switched to give your other nipple attention. His left hand came up and groped your left breast. 

It was hard for you to speak. “N-No.” 

Hopper grinned, biting your bud softly before pulling away. He almost came hearing the fact that you were a virgin. You were going to be so goddamn tight. 

Hopper’s cock throbbed painfully in his underwear. He finally pulled it out, grinding his hips into you so his cock dragged along your clit. 

You didn’t mean to moan as loud as you did, Hopper’s hand swiftly coming up to cover your mouth. “Shh,” he insisted. 

Hopper rubbed against you a dozen more times, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head. Your hands squeezed your bed sheets, trying your hardest not to get any louder. 

“Ready for me?” He asked, even though he didn’t really care if you said yes or no. 

You nodded, biting your lip and looking down between your bodies as Hopper lined the tip of his dick up with your entrance. He slowly began to push in, your head flew back into the mattress, grunts getting lodged in your throat. It stung painfully, but at the same time, you wanted to buck your hips up into him. It was torturous how slowly he filled you. Your walls pressed against him in resistance, making Hopper grunt himself.

“Fucking hell, baby.” The end of Hopper’s sentence rose in octave as he bottomed out. 

You let out a panting sigh as Hopper held himself still inside you, finally filling you up. 

Hopper slowly pulled out of you, a sharp hiss leaving your lips. Your eyes closed as you tried to focus on something other than the twitches of pain between your legs. Hopper leaned forward and left kisses on the side of your neck, his mustache tickling you again. “You’re doing so good for me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“You’re… so… big,” you said through exasperated breaths. One of Hopper’s hands slid into your hair, surely messing it up. He began to rock his hips against you in a gradual rhythm. 

Hopper could feel you pulsating around his cock, he growled low in his throat. “So fucking tight,” he babbled as he filled you. As he continued to rut into you, he realized your time was fleeting. Your damn bed moved along with his body, squeaking rather loudly. Your dad was sure to hear if he kept it up. It definitely crossed his mind to keep going–to pick up speed even–not giving a shit if your dad walked in. Hopper wanted nothing more than to chase this high. But that idea soon got pushed down again. Hopper stopped and you looked up at him with your fucking doll eyes. “Why’d you stop?” You asked, somewhat out of breath. Hopper grinned. How were you even out of breath? He was the one doing all the work. 

“Beds too loud,” he said. He slid out of you with a sting to your crotch. You squeezed your legs together, eyes locked on Hopper as he shifted his way to the floor. He even pondered dragging you out to his truck so he could fuck you in there, but he decided the floor would have to do.

“Well?” 

Startled, you stood up and met Hopper on the ground, his back pressed against the wall. Oh, shit. Did he want you to get on top? On your first time?! 

“I don’t know about…” 

Hopper cut you off before you could finish. “It’s alright.” He smirked at you, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you on top of him. “I’ll guide you through it.” He kissed your cheek and your face warmed. You aligned yourself, your knees on each side of Hopper’s thighs. One of his hands helped line himself back up with you, the other one squeezing your waist. “That’s it.” He encouraged. Hopper intently watched you, your cute mannerisms piquing his interest. Your face contorted, biting your lip, as you slid down on him. Your hands grabbed his shoulders for balance. Hopper’s hands now both roamed the side of your body, bringing your attention back to him. 

You began bouncing, drawing out your every move, trying to warm up. “Is this good?” You asked, looking at him.

Hopper’s hips bucked up slightly in response, a gasp escaping you. “Fucking perfect.” 

You rode him with more confidence, sliding on top of him with far less resistance now. Almost no sound was being made except for the connecting of your bodies and the sounds of both of your moans. 

You were constricting him as his cock throbbed against your walls. He wasn’t going to last much longer, your tight body basically forcing the orgasm out of him. Hopper’s head leaned against the wall, lazily watching you. One of his fingers moved to your clit, dragging it in slow circles. You squeaked, the new sensation making you bite your tongue. So many little sounds were being dragged out of you now. “Sound so pretty,” he mumbled in pleasure. 

As you were chasing your own high, you began to rock your hips back and forth, Hopper hitting you at a new angle. “Shit,” Hopper groaned, not expecting the switch in your confidence. Your moans sent Hopper over the edge, not having enough time to pull out of you before he came. 

You cried in pleasure as you followed close behind with the help of his circling thumb, your body tightly pulsating around his cock. You felt his warm seed explode into you and squelch out of your body. You were too cockdrunk to fully process what was happening, all you wanted was to extend your high as long as possible.

Hopper had to keep from groaning loudly, his voice a deep growl in his throat as he bucked his hips up, expelling himself into you further. 

Hopper watched as you used his cock to ride out your orgasm, messily rocking against him, your eyes shut, in another world completely. 

When you finally slowed, you collapsed forward onto his chest. Hopper wrapped his arms around you, catching his breath. “Always surprising me.”

You took a few deep breaths then looked up at him, your face lined with beads of sweat. “What?” You asked exasperated. 

“Didn’t expect you to use my dick like it wasn’t attached to anything, but solely there for your pleasure,” he teased. 

You felt embarrassed, just as surprised as he was at your sudden horny boost of confidence. He grinned. “It was hot,” he concluded. 

After you both got dressed, you felt a sudden wave of regret. Now that your mind wasn’t goop from the fire between your thighs, you could think clearly. What did this mean: fucking your dad’s friend? Someone who is over all the time. How were you going to hide this? Was Hopper going to want to fuck you again? What if you didn’t want to?

Before you could open your mouth to vocalize some of your panicky concerns, you heard your dad walking down the hall. Your door had slightly opened, just enough for your dead to hear movement. “You still up, hun?” He asked, moving to push your door open.

“Just had to use the bathroom,” You said with more haste than you meant to. Your dad’s hand fell back to his side. “Alright. Night then.” You heard him close the bathroom door. 

You looked up at Hopper behind you with big eyes. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You hissed. 

Hopper rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe he’d forget by morning.” Of course, Hopper was referring to the fact that your dad was too sleepy to remember Hopper was staying in your room, and you were supposed to be sleeping on the couch. It might click by the time he wakes up that it was you who answered him through your bedroom door, not Hopper. Neither of you were sure what you were going to do, but for some reason, it made your thighs pool with desire again. 

[delicrieux]

imagine being eleven or max's sister and comforting them after hopper/billy's death? they both break my heart and i feel like they both deserved an hug

ow idk how comforting it is but it sure is painful! 

Her small body trembles in your arms, and you are uncertain whether it’s from exhaustion or the scorching hurt brought on by a single name. Hopper. The night had been long and neon, loud with screams and whine noise from walkie-talkies that refused to properly work. Bruises dot your body, too many to count, too many not to ache, yet you feel absolutely numb and El almost slips.

Her fingers dig into your skin, hug tightly, no, cling as her blood and tears soak your shirt. Distant sirens echo somewhere, though appear so quiet and so far away, maybe even in a different reality. You stare into the distance, too scared to close your eyes, afraid to fall into the endless void, afraid to think, “Is this what dad is seeing now? ....Nothing?”.

“...Please say something.” You faintly registers El’s voice and glance down. She lifts her head, face red from tears, “Please say some...thing, please...” 

You giver her a crooked smile - an automatic response - and nod gently, wiping streams of tears from her hot cheeks, “I...” Your mind fails to come up with anything, anything even remotely comforting. Your heart beats heavily. Your throat trembles, “I...I don’t know what to say. He was...my dad too.”

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

Christmas With Hopper & the Waffle Maker

Jim Hopper x Reader; El, too, of course

A/N: This is for @sorenmarie87 ‘s Christmas Writing Challenge. My dialogue prompt was “You call this decorated?” along with the below aesthetic. I should note, this is my first time writing for Hopper, El or anything to do with Stranger Things, so please be kind, though constructive feedback is ALWAYS welcomed!

Unbeta’ed - all errors are mine. Aesthetic below created by the amazing Dawn (tagged above), who put this challenge together <3

Summary: Hopper could use a little help making his first Christmas with El a little bit better.

Warnings: A bit of language, some fluffy bits

Words: 6.3K

Tags: ehhh, just a few I think may want to read this... @kazosa @lefthologramdeer @moonchild-shoshanna @buckyscrystalqueen @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle  

The wind howled outside and followed you through the grocery store’s entrance with a ferocious push before you could force it shut behind you. Shaking off the snow from your coat and hat, you relished in the blast of artificially hot air from the vent above you, before heading further into the small market on Main Street.

Grabbing a hand basket, you started to wander the aisles, looking for something to make a quick dinner. Not that you had much of anywhere to be. Your shift as a dispatcher at the station was over, and no one was waiting at home except a cat, your book and a hot cup of tea. It was another long, boring night ahead, and the idea of cooking for one, again, was bringing you down.

Avoiding the huge Christmas display at the front of the store, you quickly ducked down one of the aisles and walked towards where some of the frozen items were kept. As you stood there trying to decide which meal to choose for the next few nights, you heard muffled grumbling and cursing coming from a few feet away.

You started laughing at him once you recognized the Chief of Police as the guy down on his knees, rifling through boxes of frozen waffles. He was clearly frustrated, tossing box after box of waffles into a messy pile on the floor. It was when he violently shoved the freezer door open and it rebounded, hitting him in the shoulder, did he finally stand up and audibly curse.

“God Dammit. You stupid piece of—(incoherent mumbling)…”

“Um… hey Chief. Need help with something?” you asked, half smiling, half nervous.

“What?” he barked in reply and whipped around only to notice he knew you. “Oh… Y/N. Hey. I was, uh, just—”

“Looking for more waffles?”

“Yeah,” he snorted with an embarrassed laugh. He immediately bent down and started tossing the boxes back into the bottom of the freezer.

“Didn’t have the kind you like?” you asked, watching with curiosity.

“Uh, no. My—Jane—my daughter, she only likes a certain kind and they don’t have them, again.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry. Something else she’d like better, maybe?”

“No. This is her thing and I promised her I’d get them for Christmas morning, and of course,” his volume increased with each word thereafter, as if shouting out to an invisible observer “there are none here!”

“I can give you my recipe for homemade waffles, if you like. They are a thousand times better than those frozen things.”

“Thanks, but, she’s sorta partial to these. Besides, its our first Christmas together, I don’t wanna… you know… screw it up by burning breakfast.”

“It’s super easy, Chief. Really. I bet she would even like to make them with you,” you raised a single, challenging brow at him, causing him to chuckle and release the tension he had built up.

“Says you. And we’re not at work Y/N, you can drop the Chief crap.”

“Ok, Hopper,” you said, though it felt strange to call him that, it felt better than Jim, “you really could handle it. Not like you’re trying to create something complicated. They’re just waffles.”

Hopper looked at you skeptically. His shoulders finally relaxed, and though he sighed, there was a small, excited smile on his face. “Alright, I’ll make the damn waffles.”

The way he looked in that moment, caused a little rumble of something deep down inside you; in that place that had not often been brought to life. Here was your boss, your Chief of Police, someone who didn’t smile very often, making you feel slightly light on your feet. Before you could think about it any further, you heard yourself reply.

“I can help you get the ingredients here for you if you like, there’s not much too it.”

“Yeah—um, that would—” his watch began beeping and interrupted his train of thought. “Shit! I’m so late. And on Christmas Eve of all days… She’s gonna—” He paused again and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit! The decorations… the food. Dammit. Some dad I’m gonna be.”

He was flustered, and you could see the panic start to set it. “Stores are almost closed, I’m not going to have time…”

“Jim. Stop and breathe,” you said and placed your hand his arm gently. It stopped his rant and brought his attention to you. “Let me help. What do you need?”

Hopper exhaled with a growl and rubbed at his face. “Uh, well, waffles, apparently. And, a tree, maybe decorations, I dunno… I mean I have some up, but this is her first real Christmas, you know? I wanna make it memorable for her, but if I get home late, she’s gonna lose it again. I can’t be late four nights in a row…”

Hearing him talk about his daughter only intensified the rumblings that began before. Now, the warmth of a long forgotten feeling was traveling further through your veins, and you were beginning to get nervous. Why was Jim Hopper suddenly bringing on these feelings? You’d worked with the man for five years now, and never once before now did you really notice how handsome he was, or how his voice made the hairs on your neck tingle.

At least, not until right now.

“Ok… here’s what you’re going to do. Go home. I’ll get everything you need to give your daughter the best Christmas and bring it to the house.”

“No. No! I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s too much. Plus, it's snowing, and I’m not at the house, I’m up at my grandfather’s cabin. It’s a hike to get up there.”

“First off, you didn’t ask. I offered. Second, I want to help. I heard a little bit about your daughter, and I think you wanting to give her a great Christmas is really sweet. Third, I literally have nothing else to do tonight and if I could spend Christmas Eve helping a little girl have a nice Christmas, how I could I say no?”

He starred at you for a minute, contemplating your offer. Hopper looked down at this watch again and nodded slightly. “Alright, if you’re sure. I will gladly take the assist.”

“Good. Now go home before she chews you out and I’ll be along shortly. Just need directions to your place.”

Hopper pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and you quickly dove into your purse for a pen. He scribbled down the directions and made sure you could follow them. Once you safely added them and the pen back to your purse, Jim grabbed you by both shoulders and bent down to meet you eye level.

“You deserve a raise for this, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“What are friends for?” you said and smiled. “You best go, Chief.”

“Jim… or Hopper… whatever you… uh—yeah, I should go. See you soon!”

He started running down the aisle and remembered the remaining few boxes of frozen waffles currently defrosting on the floor.

“I got them,” you called, “GO!”

You watched him dart from the store and couldn’t help but snicker when you saw him through the store’s front window sliding on the snowy sidewalk and right into a couple walking by.

This was very unexpected twist to your evening, but you felt excited to help. Especially if it meant seeing Hopper again outside of the station. That was also something you didn’t expect; wanting to see him again, and so badly.

Twenty minutes later, you had all the necessary ingredients for the waffles and the few groceries you thought might come in handy. You made your way back to the Christmas display at the front of the store and gathered another handcart full of ornaments, lights, garland and some other things you thought Jane might enjoy. Right before the check out, there was a small display of jewelry that caught your eye.

On the display, in pre-wrapped boxes with Christmas decorations, were delicate necklaces and bracelets. One set was a simple strand of silver stars that sparkled when they caught the light. On a whim, you grabbed it and added it to the items for checkout.

  After a quick stop at your house to drop off your frozen dinners and grab some baking essentials you were sure the Chief wouldn’t have, you were headed back out towards his cabin. The weather had worsened and being as far off the beaten path as he was, it took far longer to reach Hopper’s cabin then you anticipated.

The headlights of your car finally swept across the last turn and revealed the cabin a hundred yards up in the distance. You got as close as you could and grabbed a handful of bags. Trudging through the snow with the wind whipping around you, you saw the front door open, and felt relief. In a dash, Hopper was at your side and gathered the bags from your hands.

“There’s more, I’ll go back—” you started but he immediately cut you off.

“No, no. Go inside where’s its warm, I’ll get the rest.”

Taking the last few steps at quick pace, you bounded up onto the small porch and inside the warm cabin. For the second time that night, you shook off the snow from your shoulders and relished in the warm air circling around you. Once the chill subsided, you could feel the weight of someone’s stare clinging to your back. Slowly, you turned around and saw a girl standing there. She couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, with big brown eyes and a mop of curly brown hair on her head.

The girl, you assumed was Jane, watched you curiously as you draped your coat over your one arm and swiftly pulled off your gloves.

“Hi,” you said and held out one hand. “You must be Jane.”

She took a few steps forward and hesitantly held out her hand.

“El,” she said softly and swallowed thickly as she gingerly shook your hand.

“El?” you asked, but just as Hopper came through the door with the armload of supplies and a blizzard of snow.

He dropped the bags, and you managed to grab the ones with the eggs before they crashed to the floor.

“Are we setting up a bakery in here or what?” he asked, his breathing labored, and his cheeks blushed red from the bitter cold air.

“No, I just brought some extra supplies in case you wanted to make some cookies, or something. I was just saying hi to your daughter.”

“Right… Jane—”

“El,” she said again and louder than before, but this time her small features were set in determination, and Hopper didn’t challenge her.

“Nickname,” he replied to you, and moved the bags to the kitchen table. “El, this is (Y/N), she works with me at the station.”

“The waffle maker?”

Her response made you giggle and slightly embarrassed Hopper. “Ye—yeah, the waffle maker. Anyway, she’s going to teach us and then, we’ll make waffles for tomorrow, just like promised.”

“Cool,” El said and moved to the bags on the table.

You went to help her unpack the bags and came across the one holding the decorations. Looking around the cabin to see what he already had put up, you saw an old woodman snowman displayed near the doorway and two stockings hung near the wood burning stove.

“Um… I thought you said you had some decorations up. You call this decorated?”

“Yeah, I mean, we got the stockings, and this guy here,” he held up the snowman and looked between you and El. “What? He’s festive. Look, he’s got a red and green scarf. See? Festive.” He waved the small piece of fabric back and forth, making both you and El giggle.

“Well, I brought along some extras, just in case. The only thing I couldn’t find was a tree. Lot was closed by the time I got there.”

“Good thing we are surrounded by them. Why don’t you get all that nonsense set up and I’ll go find us a good tree; there are a few outback that may be the right size.” He got his coat and gloves back on turned to El. “You ok with that kiddo?”

“Fine with that,” El replied still going through the bags, barely acknowledging him.

“Right. Ok. Here I go,” he breathed and headed out to find a Christmas Tree.

You turned back to El, and while she was distracted, grabbed the bag with the gift and put it aside.

“So, do you like to bake cookies?” you asked, curious about the quiet girl. She seemed to contemplate your question, and then finally looked up at you with her brow creased.

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever made cookies before?”

She shook her head.

“Would you like to learn how?”

El considered the question and a small smile found its way to her lips. “I would like that very much.”

While Hopper was out searching for a tree, you went about the process of making sugar cookies, explaining it step by step to a very attentive Jane Hopper. She watched with intense curiosity as you shifted the flour and managed the butter and eggs, whipping it all up into a tasty dough, that you then rolled out and cut with shapes like Christmas trees, snowmen and gingerbreadmen. The first two batches had cooked and cooled by the time Hopper came bursting through the door, nearly frozen through and dragging a good-sized pine tree.

“Heat, heat, heat, heat…” he kept mumbling over and over as he dropped the tree in the entry, slammed the door shut and went right for the wood burning stove. Once he had defrosted a little, he turned to you and saw the cookies spread out across the kitchen. “What’s all this?”

“I brought her stuff to make cookies, too. Figured I would keep her company and we would get these all baked while you got the tree, so you two could decorate them together later.”

“That was real sweet, Y/N, thank you. It smells amazing in here. Reminds me of my gram’s kitchen,” Hopper said, a wisp of nostalgia softening his features. “Let me get the tree up. Found the stand out in the shed, then we can talk waffles.”

True to his word, the tree was up in the stand in a matter of minutes. It was more than six feet tall and the top brushed against the ceiling of the cabin. El was excited as she shifted through the different ornaments, closely examining each one.

Hopper helped her open some of the packaging and when everything was ready to go, he ruffled her hair. “Gimme a sec, kid and I’ll find some music to put on and you can start decorating.”

He went through the vinyl collection and laughed out loud when he found what he wanted. “Now, this is music,” he crooned as he slipped the album from its cover and onto the turntable.

The smooth voice of Elvis Presley filled the cabin, as Santa Claus is Back in Town began to play. A huge grin came alive on his face as he turned to El, grabbed her hand and began to twirl her around the room. She was laughing heartily and going along with his shenanigans.

You loved watching them together. The little girl had a way of bringing out a playful side to the Chief you could never imagine existed. Knowing what you did of his past, you were overjoyed to see him having so much fun and enjoying life outside the station. You felt a little guilty, watching them dance and having such a good time; almost like you were intruding on a very special family memory-making moment. But as the song faded away, he let her go and she immediately picked up the lights and began to string the around the tree.

Hopper joined you in the kitchen, leaning back against the wood block counter, and very close to where you were doing the same.

“She’s a great kid,” he mused softly, watching her go about lighting up her first Christmas tree.

“She’s lucky to have you,” you said, pushing off the counter and going back to cleaning up from the cookies.

“I’m the lucky one,” he said, and followed your lead, wiping up the counter and closing the ingredients. “She came along and… Hell. I guess we were there for each other.”

“You’re both lucky.”

You sighed, but not loud enough for him to hear you. Watching them stirred up something in you that you thought you’d put behind you. A family, kids… they weren’t in your future; mostly because you never really wanted them. The past few years had proved to be a little difficult, and very lonely. Now, watching these two together, and the feelings that had stirred earlier for the Chief, you were suddenly envious of what they had, and so wished you could experience your own family one day.

“I should be going,” you said suddenly, and shoved a piece of paper at him. “This has the recipe for the waffles. Just follow that, waffle maker is there, and I’ll get the other stuff back from you next time I see you at work.”

“Whoa, whoa, what’s the rush?” he gently touched your elbow. “Stay a while. Besides, the snow is only getting worse, its pitch-black outside and I would love to have someone to share this with,” from under one of the cabinets he pulled out a mostly full bottle of Jack Daniels. “No one man should drink this much alone. People could talk… make assumptions.”

Against your better judgment, you smiled and snickered. “What are you talking about?”

“You know how these old house wives can be… that Chief Hopper, he sure drinks alone a lot,” he said, mimicking the ones he was talking about. “You could help crush those rumors.” He raised the bottle up. “You said you had no other plans. Stay. Bake more cookies, help me make waffles for the kid.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your Christmas, Hopper.”

“Who’s intruding? I’m asking you to stay.” He tried not to smile through the serious look he wore when he used your own tactic against you. “What do you say?”

A slight vibration of excitement began to hum in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to say yes and spend the rest of Christmas with Hopper and El, but something about it still felt wrong.

“What about her, what if she wants you and Christmas to herself. You said yourself its her first real Christmas. She doesn’t need some co-worker of yours to ruin that.”

“Co-worker?” Hopper snorted a laugh and raised his brows incredulously. “Look, after what you did for me tonight, you’re much more than that. Besides, she’d want you to stay. She likes you. Watch… hey, kid. Do you mind if (Y/N) stays and celebrates Christmas with us?”

She stopped mid-decorating and turned towards the kitchen. El took a few tentative steps towards where you and Hopper stood.

“New friend?” she asked.

“Yup, she sure is,” he responded and looked towards you.

“Ok then. Stay,” the corner of her mouth pulled up into a crooked grin before she turned her attention back towards the tree.

Hopper cleared his throat and nudged his elbow gently into your arm. “See, she wants you to stay. So, stay.”

“Fine, you got me, I’ll stay at least until the storm dies down.”

“Great! I’ll grab the glasses and you can make the waffles!”

  Three whiskeys later, the tree was completely decorated, Elvis’ Christmas album had played through at least twice and El was laying sleepily on the couch with the remnants of a decorated sugar cookie laying beside her.

“Hey, kiddo,” Hopper bent down near the couch. “Whaddya say you head off to bed? Hm? Santa doesn’t come until you’re in bed and fast asleep.”

“Santa?” she asked, half paying attention.

“Remember, the big guy in the suit with the beard that brings the presents?”

She turned her head to him and smiled, tugging at his beard and chuckling. “You’re Santa!”

He snorted a laugh and helped her sit up on the couch. “Come on, off to bed with ya.”

The girl reluctantly got up and put the sugar cookie back on the plate before coming over to you and giving you a brief hug. “Thank you for the cookies and the decorations.”

Her embrace, though it was loose and slightly hesitant, took you by surprise and overwhelmed you with a swell of emotion. “You’re so welcome. Merry Christmas, El.”

“Merry Christmas, waffle maker,” she smiled that sweet and crooked smile again before leaving you and saying goodnight to Hopper.

“Night kiddo. Sleep good, and tomorrow… presents.” Hopper kissed her head and followed her into her room to be sure she was warm and tucked in.

Once she was, he came out and quietly closed her door behind him. “She’s already out.”

“Poor kid, holidays can be exhausting,” you mused as you went about cleaning up the remainder of the baking supplies. “Now, everything you need for tomorrow is right in the fridge. Flour is here, and the waffle maker is right there.” You dried your hands on the towel and headed to the coat rack to get your coat. Before you could slip it over your shoulders, Hopper was waving you off.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t leave, now.”

“Why? It’s late and I suspect Santa has a few more things to wrap,” you teased.

“Yeah, maybe. But ma’am, you’ve been drinking. What kind of cop would I be if I let you drive all the way back into Hawkins town proper after you’ve been hittin’ the bottle?”

You snorted a laugh, thinking he was kidding, but the expression he wore said otherwise. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“And what do you propose I do? Sleepover?”

“Would that be so terrible? You could have another drink with me. Help me wrap some presents and be here in the morning to make the waffles.”

“You just made a very successful batch yourself, Chief. I think you can handle it.” Shaking your head, you continued to put your coat on, ignoring the fact that he was now standing between you and the front door.

“Well… what if I want you to stay? Would you stay?”

He was gazing at you, his eyes soft but hopeful. There was something in there that seemed to be silently pleading with you to say yes, though you just assumed it was the Jack talking through him. In a split second, a myriad of thoughts went through your head, and there was no way to differentiate between them all in that moment. Your gut said stay. Your heart said stay. Your mind told you to run all the way home.

Two out of three… majority rules I guess, you thought as you started to take off your coat. “Alright, Hopper. I’ll stay. But only if you pour me some of that egg nog and add a shot of Jack to it.

“One spiked egg nog, comin’ up,” he said, a smile unfurling under his whiskers.

  By the second spiked egg nog, you and Hopper had finished wrapping the few things he got for El and exchanged more than a few stories while sitting around the warmth of the wood burning stove. The tree twinkled in the corner, and a brief lull had come over the room. The only prominent sound was the crackle of the wood from inside the iron giant next to you.

“This is a great cabin you have here,” you started, suddenly nervous and more than a little tipsy.

Hopper sat up from the couch with a groan and nodded in agreement. “It was my grandad’s place for years, then I just used it for storage. When Jane—El, came along… she, uh, needed some time to transition. Get used to me, you know? Thought this was safer than being in town.”

“Are you planning on going back to town anytime soon?”

“Yeah, most likely after Christmas. Trying to get her enrolled in Hawkins Middle for the new year. She’s a smart kid, already has some friends there, so I am hoping that its not too much on her.”

“Seems like she’s had a rough go of it,” you said thoughtfully, daring a glance at the big man beside you.

His blue eyes were semi-glazed over, but still twinkled with the reflected lights of the tree. He looked thoughtful and ran a hand over his mouth and down his beard before meeting your gaze.

“Rough is one way to describe it. Maybe one day I can tell you all about it,” he paused, and chuckled to himself. “Maybe one day. But, tonight… we celebrate Santa!”

He absently patted your knee before standing from the couch and going back to the record player. Leaving Elvis on the turntable, he moved the needle further onto the record, and the first notes of Blue Christmas began playing. Hopper came back over to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the couch without asking. He just wrapped his arms around you, holding one of your hands to his chest, his other around your waist, and started dancing you around the room.

Singing along with Elvis, he spun you and then pulled you close again. The more he moved you and sang along, the bigger your smile grew. His hands were warm and surprisingly soft. You loved how he was gently brushing his thumb against your back as he spun you around the room and tucked your hand into his chest deeper with each twirl.

Hopper moved you in closer and let his face press intimately against your cheek as he continued singing along. The breath from his words felt like a warm burst of heaven against your ear, and you found yourself falling for him faster than you thought would be possible.

The song began to fade out, and a more up-tempo one took its place. You didn’t want it to end, but you also felt suddenly nervous around him. Whether it was the whiskey, or the abrupt sprout of feelings for the man, you needed a moment to think.

“Bathroom?” you asked, feeling warm from the heat and the booze, but mostly the closeness to the Chief..

“Right there,” he pointed and watched you as you entered it and swiftly shut the door.

Starring at yourself in the small vanity mirror, you tried to calm your breathing and splashed some cold water on your face. From the other room, the music stopped, but Hopper kept on humming the tune and mumbling the words of Blue Christmas. Taking another moment or two, you took a few deep breaths, and rejoined him in the other room.

“Hey, come here,” he said and waved you over to the window, “it finally stopped snowing.”

You peaked out of the curtain to see a beautiful, serene blanket of snow covering most everything. The night’s illumination made it look like something out of a fairy tale, casting an even deeper fantastical glow over the night as the snow sparkled under the full moon.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, afraid that saying it any louder would break the spell.

“It sure is,” he said, and when you turned your face up to glance at him, you realized he was looking at you, and not out the window.

The needle lowered back onto the record, and Silent Night began to play softly just as Hopper took your chin between his fingers and lifted your face up to his. Despite the copious amounts of spiked egg nog, you felt instantly sober as you grasped that he was about to kiss you.

You didn’t stop him, you wanted him to kiss you—and if you were being honest with yourself—it was from the moment you saw him in the market. There was no reason as to why then, but after spending the evening with him and his daughter, it was the only thing you wanted for Christmas.

Hopper paused, only briefly, just before his lips touched yours. When you didn’t pull away, he gently pressed his lips to yours. The bristles of his beard tickled your lips, but the feeling of him against you was something else entirely. The had a magic all of its own.

His fingers slipped from your chin, and cautiously wrapped around you and drew you into his chest. Holding you closer now than when you were dancing, you kissed him back with all your newly found feelings. It only encouraged him to return it deeper, and with a sudden flare of passion.

His lips parted, guardedly allowing his tongue to know yours. When they touched, it sent a bolt of shivers down your body, making your knees feel weakened and a tingle of warmth to grow within you. You felt you could lose yourself in him, very easily, and that thought scared you into pulling back from his kiss.

“Hopper… wait,” you breathed, putting your hands on his chest to give yourself a little distance. “This is… wow.”

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t’ve—” he mumbled and shook his head.

“No, please… don’t apologize. I wanted you too, very much,” you paused and flashed a glance towards El’s room. “Its just a surprise, you know? Like, wow. What’s happening here?” you laughed nervously and ran a hand through your hair.

“I have no clue. I’m really, terrible at these kinda things. But tonight, tonight was fun. Watching you with El, and the way you just sorta swooped in and helped me. It felt good to laugh, and not feel like a sad sack of shit on Christmas. Having her,” he said and pointed towards her room, “and you here, I don’t know. It just feels nice.”

He hesitantly caressed the side of your face and seemed as though he was going to kiss you again, but a sudden yawn made him divert away, then lay his forehead against your shoulder with a groan. His whole body animatingly slumping down, too.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “It’s been a long day, Hop. Come on.” Taking his hand, you lead him over towards the couch and allowed him to fall onto it with a thud. You inhaled sharply and laughed as he pulled you down next to him and draped his arm over your shoulders, drawing you into the crook of his arm.

He rested his head back against the couch, his eyes closing, but a ghost of a smile was left on his face. “Best Christmas in a long time,” he mumbled as he snuggled you into him. “In a long, long time.”

Taking a deep breath, you felt yourself settle into him and close your eyes. Sleep came quickly after.

   When you woke, Hopper was snoring softly beside you. Carefully you got out from beneath his embrace without waking him. El was still asleep and you thought it best to leave, so they could enjoy their first Christmas together as a family. Also, this way there would be no awkwardness between you. Maybe he would regret how close you had gotten the night before. Leaving now would give him an out if he woke up with a different mindset.

You took the gift you got from the store, signed the little tag To El, and left it under the tree with her other presents. Leaving everything else behind, you made your way out onto the porch and took in the serene view before you. Christmas morning donned with a cotton candy sky and a blanket of undisturbed snow that looked like scene from a post card. Not wanting to chance them waking before you left, you quietly made your way down to the car and drove away towards home.

The rest of your day went on as normal. You got home, took a hot shower, made some breakfast before going on to phone relatives far and wide to say Merry Christmas. You had hoped that maybe Hopper would call. He certainly should have had your phone number somewhere in that brain of his. But when he didn’t, you reluctantly picked up the receiver and dialed the various family members. Each conversation was the same…

 Why didn’t you come to visit?

I am covering a shift today at the station, so Florence could spend it with her family.

Do you enjoy spending Christmas alone?

It’s not so bad, honestly. (you’d lie)

If you’d settle down with a nice man, you wouldn’t have to be alone.

Oh yes, maybe one day… (you’d say with a laugh but there was no humor in it)

 When that torture was finally over, you got yourself ready and headed off to the station to cover the phones for the evening.

Only one officer was on duty, Officer Finlay, a middle aged, divorced man who’s only ambition in life was to do as little as possible.  Hawkins was normally a quiet town anyway and being that it was Christmas, the most you could really expect to get was a call from the local bar about a drunken disorderly. The night drug on without incident, and as the sun set on Hawkins that Christmas day, you decided to fix up a little dinner for you and Officer Finlay that you brought from home.

Standing in the small kitchen area of the station, your back was to the room when you heard the PA system click on with a whine before the sounds of Elvis singing Blue Christmas came through. Thinking that Officer Finlay was playing the music, you paused at the recognition of the song and thought back to last night and the time you spent dancing with Hopper.

You just stood at the microwave, lost in thought about the night before and wishing you hadn’t left the way you did. Before you could think of all the ways you blew things with Hopper before they even began, you heard someone clear their throat from behind you.

When you turned, you saw Hopper and El both standing there, cheeks bright pink from the cold air and a huge grin on the girl’s face.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, as El quickly moved in to hug you.

You caught the girl and hugged her back, noticing she had on the gift you left her. The silver stars sparkled back at you, as you gave her one last little squeeze.

“Its so pretty!” she exclaimed, as you bent down and admired it on her.

“It looks beautiful on you, El,” you said, lightly touching the chain. Looking back up at Hopper, you saw him watching you and tried to discern the expression on his face. Was he upset with you for leaving it? Or for leaving at all? Was he remorseful about kissing you… did he even remember kissing you?!

“You left without saying goodbye.” He looked disappointed. “Then, once she opened that, she insisted we come and find you.”

“You didn’t stay for waffles,” she added, her tone thick with disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, I really thought you guys might just wanna spend the morning together.”

“Come back for dinner,” she asked, her doe-like brown eyes quietly pleading with you to say yes. “I promise, no waffles. Hop says we have to have a vegetable.”

You laughed heartily at her response and hugged her again. “I would love to come for dinner, but I have to work tonight. Rain check?”

She looked confusedly up at Hopper. “Rain check?”

“It means can she come another time instead. But, that’s not necessary. Finlay!” Hopper called out, turning to find the officer. “You can cover the phones for her tonight, right?”

“But—” he started and read the Chief’s expression and threw his hands up in the air. “Yeah, fine. But the stew, stays.”

“Fair enough,” he said and turned back around, his blue eyes twinkling a bit mischievously. “So, dinner and maybe a bit more Elvis?”

That warm glow of long-forgotten feelings grew again and there was no way you would or could turn him down. Or El, for that matter. Within the course of a day, they both became two of your very favorite people. The more time you could spend with them, the better.

“Yes, I would love that.”

El was visibly excited, Hopper was a bit subtler about it. He quickly glanced over his should at Finlay, who was now sulking at his desk, then back to you. Taking your hand, he gave it a squeeze and took a step closer to you.

“Good, cause the kid really likes you.”

“I really like her.”

“I might, kinda like you, too. I mean I always have but…,” he trailed off and shrugged his shoulders. When he spoke again, his voice was lowered so only you could hear him. “Last night was pretty great. Would like to do it again, maybe a little less drunk, so I don’t pass out just when things get good.”

You could feel yourself blush but was also excited at the thought. “I’d like that very much.”

“That’s good,” he said and then sung along with the song still playing over the PA. “Cause, it’d be a Bluuuee Christmas, without you…”

El rolled her eyes and hit him in the ribs.

“You’re lame,” she teased and shook her head.

Hopper raised his arms in defense. “Hey, I am not lame, ok. I am…” he trailed off, looking to you for help.

“Oh no pal, you are suuuper lame,” you agreed with her, and gave her a wink.

“I can see how this night is gonna go. May have to break out that whiskey again afterall,” he grumbled with a reluctant smile. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Keeping your hand in his, and El’s in his other, the three of you left the station to head to the cabin for Christmas dinner and who knows what else. Either way, you knew that things would never be the same again after that Christmas day.

[boogiewrites]

Don’t Mess With Jim.

Characters: Jim Hopper x Reader

Word Count: 5000

Summary:  It’s been a long week without being able to see your favorite man, and you intend to make sure he remembers what he’s been missing. You’re reminded of just how powerful of an affect Jim’s words can have on you (and others).

Warnings: SMUT. Oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, manipulation, lying, short argument, but mostly two adults just having a good time.

You can check out my other work on My Masterlist.

Tagged folks are at the bottom, if you’d like to be added or removed, just leave a reply and I’ll see it! Any positive feedback or messages are appreciated. Thanks!

Your date had been fun tonight, as they all had been over the past few months, but you found yourself immediately, urgently distracted as the big man who held all your affections shut your front door behind him. He had been too busy to see you all week. Not a lunch date, not a quickie between shifts, nothing. You weren’t mad, you were just horny and frustrated. Your week hadn’t been great, you could honestly nap right now if you weren’t so throbbingly preoccupied with the other set of needs your body was calling out for. 

You’d been teased by customers, hit on by gross men, and to top it off, you had to deal with your ex-boyfriend running into you while you were at work. But right now, after this flirty but reserved date with the ruggedly handsome Mr. Hopper, all that was the farthest thing from your mind. You start to move towards him, taking off your coat slowly, one shoulder at a time as you spoke. “You know I’ve missed you an awful lot this week Chief.” your voice is low and suggestive, you toss your coat onto the couch. “I’ve missed you too, Y/N, I’m sorry.” he takes off his coat, throwing it over yours, he saunters up to you. “I should’ve made some time for you but,” he frowns slightly, sighing and touching your hair. “It’s been a rough week.” he chews his cheek and looks you over as you close the space between you, your hands on his chest. “I’ve had a rough week too, Chief.” you pout, pushing your chest up against him. You bat your eyelashes up at him, giving him a smile that tells him what you were after. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart.” the subtle but deadly charming grin that made you say yes to a date with him in the first place is on his face. “Anything I can do,” he moves his face into the bend of your neck. “ …to fix that?” his voice drops to a low rumble and it makes a shiver run down your body. You hum as his lips start moving across your neck. “You can keep doing this, for starters.” you let out a low laugh, his arms pulling you closer to him. You let out a muffled moan, your eyes wanting to flutter shut. Once the sound leaves your mouth his hands grip you tighter, starting to cascade across your hips. You grip his shirt and motion with your head to your bedroom. You pull your dress over your head on the walk down the hall, letting him watch you wiggle and jiggle in your particularly sexy matching set of underwear you’d worn to remind him of what he’d missed while he’d been away. You hear a deep breath and groan behind you as you stop to pose in your doorway as he takes off his flannel shirt and unbuckles his jeans, shoes already gone. He stops for a moment to look at you, holding his hands out to you, his fingers barely touching your hips and neck. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, baby.” One hand wanders down your body to grip your ass. His other is teasing the straps on your bra, snapping the strap against your skin. “There is nothing that could keep me off of this body tonight.” his voice low in your ear. You let out a small moan at the feeling his praise sends to your inner thighs, making them tense. “That happens to be exactly what I want, Chief.” you say with a breathy exhale as his mouth works it’s way across your neck again. He huffs at the use of his title, the sight of you in mesh and lace, his eyes roll back in his head as he closes in on a long deep kiss. You can feel him growing hard as he pushed you up against the door frame, your breathing already beginning to pick up. Your chest rises and falls pornographically into his face as his mouth makes it’s way to the edge of your bra. “Fuck baby, I missed you.” he groans into your cleavage, his hands roughly gripping your tits, fingers leaving red marks behind to match the lace that covers everything he wants to touch the most. You hum contently at his words, your hands squeezing his shoulders as he continues to move his mouth and tongue across the sheer cup of your lingerie. He pulls the flimsy fabric down and engulfs your nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you whine from the weak in the knees feeling his mouth gave you. You don’t want to take it off of you, but you push him back with two hands on his shoulders, his legs hitting the edge of the bed. His hands haven’t left your body, and neither have his eyes. “Can you help me out with this next part, handsome?” you ask sweetly, winking at him. Your lips beckon him, your tits pushed together slightly by your arms squeezing together as your hands move to unzip his pants. You slide your hand down his hard length, fingers grazing over the thin veil of his underwear. He bites his lip as you palm him greedily. “Can you take off all these clothes for me, Chief?” you ask, an intriguing smile on your wet lips.  He returns your smirk, his eyes narrowing just slightly at this new demeanor he hadn’t got the pleasure of experiencing from you yet. You step away, one hand on your waist, the other, twirling a strand of your hair, you wait for his answer with big doe eyes. He wets his lips before answering. “You know I really do like it when you do it.” his low and slow words make you want to pull everything off of him with only your teeth. “Well, consider this,” you step forward again, your fingers grazing over his chest as his hands idle over the leather of his belt. “I can go over there, and take my jewelry off,” you punctuate your statement with the swing of your head towards the other side of the room. “So by the time I’m finished there, I can turn around to a sexy naked man in my bed,” your voice grows slightly louder, “Because I want to suck that thick cock of yours, and I don’t want to waste any more time.” your hands are now on your hips. The look on his face is exactly what you wanted. Your no-nonsense gaze and your power stance make his cock twitch.“I’ve been thinking about you pushing me down on that dick this entire week. I’ve made myself come every night in that bed thinking about you fucking me.” you state factually, with authority to your tone. Your hand casually motions to the bed behind him. “But if you want to wait even longer for me to do that then I can.” your head bobs, your arm now extended, wrist limp with an attitude towards his lack of team play so far. His face is impressed, you might’ve even thought you saw some sort of pride in his eyes as they shone at you. “Well,” he shrugs, his arms moving to take off his shirt. “When you put it that way.” he says with a charming, smug grin. You scoff and trot your way over to your dresser, kicking off your heels and taking off your jewelry, just like you said. As you snap the backs on your earrings you hear the sound of him crawling into bed, a pleased smile spread across your face. You twirl back to Hopper, the sight of him laid back in your bed, back against the headboard, hand stroking his impressive cock,  makes your tongue shoot out of your mouth automatically, running across your teeth as you flick your bottom lip with your tongue. You eventually settle on a sexy snarl to greet him with and you put your hands on the comforter, bending over the bed. “You look so fuckin’ good in my bed.” you acclaim, your hips swaying back and forth. He lets out a low, short laugh, you can see the darkness in his eyes from the opposite end of the bed. You stand straight up, your hand moving to your back to unhook your bra, you toss it away. You keep your face playful, teasing. You run your thumbs under the satin band of your panties. You see that smirk of his that makes you groan at the sight of it. His brow low, lip bit between his teeth. His chest was rising and falling noticeably fast and the grip he held on himself tightened, his thumb swirling around the swollen head of his cock. You slide your panties down over your hips and legs, flipping your hair over to one side as you crawled up the bed to him.  He shakes his head and lets out a low whistle as you slink up to in between his legs. “Goddamn woman,” he exclaims, the sight of your body moving, your hair swept and framing around your face. “Talk about lookin’ so fuckin’ good.” he growls, his long arm reaching out to pinch one of your nipples. You look up at him through your lashes, your hands gently making their way up his thighs. “Thanks, Chief.” your voice is smokey and dark. “You gonna let go of that cock?” you tilt your head, your fingers gripping into his big muscular thighs. “I’d like to take my turn now, please.” you bat your eyelashes at him, leaning in closer so he can feel your breath move over his sensitive skin, “Fuck, baby,” he breathes out heavily. “I didn’t think I could like that mouth of yours any more than I already did.” you casually shrug and scrunch your nose at him, accepting the praise. His hands run up his hips and onto his stomach before moving with a thud onto the bed, he grunts, repositioning himself, watching you lick your lips patiently while he settles. You lead with your tongue exaggeratedly dragging across his leaking head. You watch him break eye contact with you as his head relaxes back against the headboard with a dull thud as you take him into your mouth. You run your hand up his inner thigh, your fingernails giving his balls a delicate scratch before cupping them gently. This does not go unnoticed from the moan that escapes Hopper’s now open mouth. If you’d had the room to spare in your mouth you would’ve smiled at his animated reaction. You work a whimper out of him as you pop off of him, slowly wrapping your hand around the base of his length and slowly sprawling your tongue from between his balls to his once again leaking head. The guttural noise he makes as you do this affects you so much you can  feel yourself getting wet from it. While you suck and swirl around the firm dome of the head of his cock, you feel his hands reach your hair. You moan in anticipation around him as you sink him as far as you can into your throat. You hollow your cheeks and bob up and down on him, looking back up into his eyes. His fingers grip your hair tighter, pushing you down farther, earning a hiss of approval at the sight of you from the Chief. His feet plant into the bed, his hips pushing back up underneath you. You unwrap your fingers around him, he’s clearly interested in a bit of show and not focused on making this go so quickly. You keep one hand gripping to his muscular thigh, the other back on his balls. He groans again, a controlled but masculine sound that rumbles down to the center of your thighs. He pulls you off of him by one of his hands in your hair, the other hand hits his hard cock up against your swollen lips. “You better not make me come yet, baby girl.” he whispers angrily at you. His grip tight in your hair. “That’s for after I’ve made you come around my cock.” You moan as you stick your tongue out while he rubs the slick head of his cock back and forth against your lips and tongue. “But you look so good while you’re taking my cock.” he pushes your head down fast on him, pumping a few times before he pulls you off again suddenly, you release from him with a gasp. Your heart was racing and your eyelids were heavy with lust. He groans at the sight of you and continues, roughly pushing you down against him, his hand still at the base of his cock, pushing you against him, his hips raising off the bed slightly. “Take it all, baby.” he clenches the sides of your head, holding your hair back. He drags himself slowly in and out of you, grunting with every thrust as he bottoms out inside your mouth time after time. With how you were letting him have his way with you, you were more than impressed he was lasting this long. You let yourself enjoy being used by him, this is exactly what you’d wanted afterall. You moan against him as he curses out praises under his breath, pumping into you. He moves his hands from your head, you pull away from him with a whimper, he shushes you, his voice low and authoritative. “You’ll get more of me later, baby.” he whispers, pulling you up to him and connecting you both in a frenzied kiss. He rolls you to your back, laying between your legs, continuing the kiss, his strong hands moving your body as he grasped at you. He hums and groans as he listens to the noises you make when he sucks on your neck. He moves his mouth from its hurried path on your skin, looking down at you. You mirror each other in your hyper-aroused states. Your lips pinked, your breath coming faster, the hunger in both your eyes. You’re so distracted by the way he bites his lip while he looks at your body, that you don’t notice his hand move to your thighs. You whine at his unexpected touch. You legs instinctually spread wide for him. A low, confident laugh moves its way down to where his fingers were headed. He teases you, his fingertips running up the inside of your thighs, ghosting over your pussy lips. He finds his way to your clit without even trying. “So eager tonight,” he taunts. He slides one of his long fingers inside you easily, you were obscenely wet as you usually were at this point in the evening with Jim. Your hands move to his shoulders and you gasp helplessly. “So fucking wet.” he murmurs to himself, watching his fingers disappear inside your glistening lips. He hums at the feeling of you tensing around his fingers at his words. Just because your body had always reacted this way to him, didn’t mean that he didn’t notice and appreciate the warm, inviting welcome you always had waiting for him. He dives back into the bend of your neck, breathing in your ear. “Tell me how bad you missed me, baby.” he commands in a gritty voice. You pout, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about you all week, Chief.” you whisper. You whine and lick your lips, feeling your hips want to start rolling against his touch. “Every night you weren’t here I wanted you more.” you moan while you try to form sentences as his fingers curl and build up the distracting sensations you’re trying to push past to speak. “I thought about you doing this, fucked myself with my fingers while I imagined it was you.” your hand wraps up into his hair, griping against his moving head, licking and sucking on your shoulders. He greedily groans, pushing into you deeper, slower. “I bet you came so hard around those pretty little fingers didn’t you baby?” he nips at your skin. “You know I fuckin’ did, Chief.” you growl at him, rolling your hips. “Such a good girl for me,” he hails, his tongue making it’s way to your nipple. You cry out, your thighs wanting to slam shut, his words were getting you closer to coming a lot faster than you anticipated. “So fuckin’ good for you, Chief.” you hear his growl again at the continued use of his title. You knew what it did to him. Your lip is bitten but primed to describe in dirty detail how you’d fantasized about him but your thoughts are interrupted. The last sound you want to hear when your frustratingly sexy boyfriend was trying to fuck you is the phone ringing. You let out a loud noise of frustration, reaching for the phone on your nightstand. “Gotta be Goddamn kidding me right now with this…” you growl, roughly grabbing the phone and putting it to your ear. “Y/N speaking.” you say without it sounding like you want to murder whoever was calling you at…after 10 on a Friday, what the fuck. “Hey, Y/N.” you recognize the voice and your face drops, and your eyes roll back in your head. Jim immediately reads you and knows somethings up. He retracts his fingers from you, wiping them off on the sheets and looms over you, his hands roam your body in an attempt to calm and distract you. “What is it? I’m busy.” you spit out. Jim’s eyebrows shoot up at you in amusement, he’d never heard you be so blatantly rude to someone, it turned him on a little to be honest. “I got to thinking about us after I saw you at the store and…” he begins to stumble his words. “No.” you shake your head even though he can’t see. “No. You can just stop there because I don’t give a shit about anything else you could possibly say after that unless it’s to tell me I won’t ever have to see or hear you ever again.” your voice is completely dark and full of malicious intent. You turn your upper body from Jim, now completely distracted by this conversation, you felt it all bubble up in your throat, the raw bile of seething hatred for another human. “Y/N, you’re being a fucking bitch, I’ve not done anything to deserve you talking to me like that.” he snaps back. “You’re lucky I don’t come over there and-” you slam the lid right on that jar of bullshit. “Shut up and listen to me you overgrown man child, you aren’t worthy of my fucking time or energy, so I’m going to say this one last time. If you keep not listening to my rational demands, I’ll get the fucking police involved you stupid sonofabitch, you can’t threaten to come over here with no consequences anymore.” you gasp for air to begin your tirade. “You were an asshole before I met you, an asshole while we were together and an asshole after. I do not want you to contact me. I do not want you to come where I fucking work again, and I don’t want to fucking know what you’ve been thinking about "us”, so kindly go fu-“ the phone is pulled from your hands and you’re startled as Jim clears his throat and speaks into the phone. "Listen buddy, you shouldn’t threaten anyone, especially a nice woman like, Y/N.” his lips are pursed, your starting to calm down at the feeling of one of your problems being taken care of by someone else. Your body melts against the bed, the focused look in Jim’s eyes making your muscles ache with want. You see his jaw tighten, his fingers fidget, his brow is furrowed and low. You hear shouts from the other end of the line. You can only imagine what he was saying at finding out another man, a very intimidating sounding man was with you at this late hour. “Hey, I didn’t want to get personally involved in this, but if you’re gonna make it my problem, I will.” you can feel the power radiating off of him and you feel your heartbeat start to pick back up, you bite your lip and he stays focused on the shouting you hear from the other end. The whole Chief routine was really doing it for you. “Because I’m the Chief of Police you god damn moron. The names Jim fuckin’ Hopper and if you’re not too stupid to find the police station, you can find me there. In the meantime, take my advice and don’t mess with a woman who’s getting fucked by me.” your mouth is agape, your eyes glued to his as he slams the phone on the bedside table. Your skin is crawling with goosebumps at his words in defense of you. He huffs and looks down at you, “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “C'mere baby.” he growls, kissing you hard. You moan against him, his hands back between your legs “I think you were telling me about what a good girl you’d been for me.” he groans into your mouth. You suck on his bottom lip as he rubs circles around your clit. You’re already fully turned back on, a bit of a mess from his words, you tried to get back into the preferred mindset. “Yeah,” you let out a small giggle, his beard tickling you as he kissed his way down your neck. “I’m always your good girl, Chief.” you purr, he groans in response. “I tried real hard not to touch myself last night so you could have more fun with me tonight,” you say in a whiney but breathless voice, “But I thought about you fucking me in the shower while I was getting ready this morning and I had to.” “Just couldn’t help yourself, could you baby?” he breathes into your ear, his fingers sliding back into you. “Bet you got wet everytime you thought about me this week, didn’t you?” You moan and whine as he picks his deep angle and pumps his fingers into you. You move against him as his deep motions make your body bounce off his fingers. “I did.” you gasp. “I couldn’t help it. It’d been too long, I needed you too bad.” you say through your rapidly increasing breaths and groans. “What do you need baby, tell me.” you feel his fingers retreat from you, but you quickly feel him stroking himself, his hand hitting up against your thigh. “Need you, Chief.” you say sassily, scrunching your nose at him, you knew this wasn’t what he was asking of you. “Baby, you know what I want to hear.” he taunts you in a rumbling voice, rubbing his cock up against your folds. You giggle and move your hips against him. “Oh I do.” you drop your voice, your hands moving to play with your tits, you run your tongue across your teeth at him. “You wanna hear how badly I need your cock,” he grunts at you. “I need you to fuck me, Chief.  You know how I want it.” you reach down with one hand to rub your clit while you move your hips to make it easier for him to slide inside you. “I always know what that fuckin’ sexy body wants.” he starts mumbling, distracted, as he watches you touch yourself, your chest heaving and your head pushing back into the bed. “Then give it to me, Chief. Give your baby girl what she wants.” you purr. “You are my baby girl, aren’t you?” he says with the smallest touch of sweetness, but mostly in a dark possessive tone. “Yes, sir,” you say in a low, feminine laugh. You really did love the mouth on your big man. “You gonna give it to me, Chief? You gonna fill me up with that big cock and make me cum around it?” you moan out, trying to get him inside you quicker, your finger working faster around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He hums in approval, you feel the pressure of his head at your entrance. “You gonna take this cock in this pretty little pussy as well as you did in that fucking gorgeous mouth earlier?” he pushes into you slowly, you want to tense and melt at the same time. His dirty talk tonight was on some level you hadn’t gotten to before and you found yourself mesmerized. For a man that had never had to say much to let you know what he meant, he was so good with his words. “Jim…” you say quietly, almost shy at his words. “That mouth baby, god damn.” you praise as he kisses you. “I’m just making sure you understand what you’re doing to me.” he moans into your mouth as your arms wrap around his neck. “I never want you to think I don’t want you.” he whispers, you moan at the tenderness of his words and how his lips pressed softly against your neck. You reach back down to rub your clit, you’re already so close, and you feel his hips gaining speed. “Tell me,” you whisper. “Tell me how bad you want me, Chief.” you moan. He smirks as his fingertips dig into your flesh. “So fuckin’ bad baby,” he says loudly. “All of you, all the time.” you happily hum against him, tensing at his words. “That mouth, those tits, ” he’s getting ahead of himself and has to take a deep breath. “This perfect pussy of yours.” he groans, his eyes shutting for a weighted moment. “You feel so fuckin’ good,” you whine, back to being distracted by the pressure between your legs. “You’re getting close already aren’t you baby?” he hisses as he sucks marks into your skin. “So close, Hop, so close,” you whine. “Harder.” you cry out, as you tense again. He takes your direction and pounds into you. So hard it surprised you. “Fuck, Hop!” you squeak out, it hurt but you never wanted it to stop. He tightly fists the hair at the back of your skull, pulling your head back. He changes his pace in reaction to the helpless sounds you make when he’s inside you. He hits deep, earning an exasperated deep noise from you as he glided over your g-spot. “Such a good girl.” his voice is breaking and becoming higher pitched. “You feel so goddamn good, baby.” “Don’t stop.” you squeak out, your body being bounced off the bed by his thrusts. “Right there, fuck.” you moan loudly. You hear a smug laugh in your ear. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart? You know I wanna feel you cum around me.” you can feel his breath against your ear and it makes you shiver. “Yes.” you cry out. Your eyes fluttering shut. “So close, fuck.” you moan out a word every time he bottoms out in you. “Give it to me baby, give me what I want,” he growls and you shout. You can’t help it, he’s too big, too good, too much. You cry out right as you crash around him. “Yes. Fuck, baby.” he spits out through clenched teeth. His eyes close and his mouth opens at the feeling of you clenching around him. As he keeps working your body, still pumping into you, you continue to shudder around him, calling out his name as he roughly grabs your tits, thumbs grazing over your nipples, eliciting a loud whine from you. He moves to hold you down for traction, his arms straight out, his eyes focused on yours as he stops holding back. He bottoms out into you over and over in a harsh pattern, pushing you farther up the bed. You brace one hand against the headboard, meeting his hips as you see the sweat beading and rolling down his face to his neck. Your succession of moans growing in volume encourages him, you can’t stop yourself, he’s overwhelming you in such a delicious way. He looks away from your face to watch himself sink and appear in and out of you for a few moments, then he meets your gaze and couldn’t be more pleased with the look on your face that he’s given you. “You’re too fucking good, sweetheart, I’m gonna come.” he groans, his body quickly engulfing yours, his lips pushing harshly against your own, his hips move in in solid swings, you cry out with every hard pump. “Come for me, Chief.” you demand with a whine in your voice, your lips against the shell of his ear as he lets out a strangled moan. His long line of mumbled curses, the way his head falls against you, you know he’s finished. His hips still and his fingers move from their deep implantation into your softest parts. His raises his head, panting and swallowing hard, his eyes starting to lighten. After his eyes focus, he looks directly at you, one hand on the side of your face, kissing you without the urgency and force he had been all night previously. “You’re so fucking sexy sometimes I can’t stand it.” he whispers to you. You let out a small feminine laugh, his lips smiling while pressed to yours. “You’re always too sexy for me,” you coo at him with adoration in your voice, your arms wrapping around his neck. “It’s hard to keep my hands off of you, Chief.” “I think about those hands on me more often than I’d like to admit, sweetheart.” he returns your laugh. You both sighed heavily, realizing the tension was gone, all that was left was to enjoy being alone together for the rest of the night. Although you never want to leave his embrace, the slow kisses he covered you in weren’t enough to distract you from the familiar urge of having to pee. “Lemme go to the bathroom and clean up.” you quietly suggest, your hands pushing gently on his shoulders. “I’ll come right back to you, Chief, promise.” you tease, kissing him one last time after he’s rolled onto the other side of the bed. He groans watching you walk away. “I’ll never get tired of watching that ass walk away,” he shouts to you as you enter the hallway, he hears your laugh before your bathroom door clicks closed. He looks over to the nightstand, the phone still on the table. He picks it up and listens to the silence, no tone, no beeps. He clears his throat into the mouthpiece, he believes he hears the rustling of fabric. “Good, I hope you fuckin’ heard all of that.” he says smugly into the receiver, finally placing it back into the cradle and disconnecting the call.

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[whimsylavender]

Caramel (Jim Hopper x Reader fluff)

This is just a silly idea I had while at work, but I hope it makes you smile!

It was a very slow, quiet day, nothing much happening at all. It was wonderful. You were immensely grateful for the chance to simply lounge about in your sweats in the morning sun streaming in, hair pulled back, occasionally gazing with a deep fondness for the man - the officer - on the couch. He was watching some shitty daytime show, but his eyes were unfocused. Jim was tired, both of you were, and so it was comfortable silence in which you enjoyed each other’s company.

You started to swing your legs a little, sat on the kitchen counter. The only thing occupying your mind was your partner, and the sweet little caramels you occasionally popped into your mouth. They dissolved on your tongue, making it very difficult to resist just one more. Instead, you had nearly finished them.

It left a sweet and slightly salty taste in your mouth and, as you happened to glance over at Hopper, an idea came to mind. 

“Hey, Hop, come here.” You called over the low murmurings of the television. He didn’t stir for a moment, then his eyes snapped in your direction as though you’d pulled him from a deep thought. His only reply was a grunt, a questionable tone, though his expression was nothing but soft for you.

“Come on, trust me!” You added, cooing. “Please.” 

With a dramatic roll of his eyes and a heavy sigh for effect, he hauled himself off the couch and towards you, the corners of his mouth curled in the ghost of a smile.

“What do you want?” Hopper teasingly put on his chief voice as he stood in front of you. Sat on the counter, you were eye level with him, and your hands smoothed down the front of his shirt.

Your gaze darted to the floor as a smile spread across your face. “Well, I just wanted to kiss you, but if you’re not interested-”

“Whoa, I never said that!” He interjected quickly, eyes wide. You laughed at the sight and he shot you a look, standing between your thighs with his hands pressed either side of your hips on the kitchen bench. 

“I was just curious, is all, ‘bout something.” You adopted a more sheepish expression, warmth creeping up your neck. If you were honest, you wanted to see if he could taste the sweet candy, something you’d never thought to wonder before. Hopper grinned, shaking his head lightly.

“Hm.” He mused, touching your chin lightly with one finger and pressing his lips to yours. It was a lazy kiss, warm and familiar. His scruff left a bite on your skin, but you were used to the sensation and the marks it often left on your body.

But he grew restless quickly, pushing forward and lightly grazing your lip with his teeth. He never kissed you in one way, it was always a form of emotion for him. Jim’s kisses could be hot and angry, or soft and quiet, but today it was nothing short of perfect.

Only when you both needed breath did he pull back, drawing in air with rapid puffs. His eyes were dark, clouding out the blue and giving him a predatory demeanour. Neither of you said anything for a long second, then he broke the silence with a lopsided smile.

“I really like caramel.”