Stepdad ! Hopper - Tumblr Posts

Dirty Cop 💋

18+ explicit content • Jim Hopper x fem reader • perv ! stepdad! jim hopper • angst, masturbation, fingering, use of a sex toy, infidelity, squirting •

Thank you @hoppersslvtty for this idea!

There’s something wrong with me, you thought. There must be. The way you were getting wet sitting across the dinner table from your stepdad…

Why the hell did he have to be so goddamned…everything he was? Jim Hopper wasn’t just your stepdad and the town’s Chief of Police; he was also hot as fuck. You’d always resented your mother a little for marrying someone so attractive. It made you sick to think that she got to experience his body and you didn’t, and you never would, because of course he wouldn’t even think of sleeping with his fucking stepdaughter…

…but you were so wrong about that. Hopper had thought about it. On really desperate nights, when your mom couldn’t satisfy his urges sufficiently enough (and that was often, because your mom was a prudish bitch) Hopper would finish himself off in the bathroom looking at pictures of you in your swimsuit from last year’s vacation to Florida to celebrate your turning twenty. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already fully committed the image of you to memory; he already had every curve of your body memorized dutifully and stored away in his mind forever. He could have used his imagination and invented endless scenarios involving you and him, you with your legs splayed and begging him to take you. But Hopper wasn’t totally without standards, and by his moral assessment, he just couldn’t bring himself low enough to masturbate to the thought of you alone. He needed something he could touch, something that didn’t come from his mind, something outside of himself that he could use to get off to your body; and photos of you were the perfect thing. It made you no different than a girl in a dirty magazine, Hopper told himself. What was the difference in him rubbing one out to your pictures versus the girls in the magazines he kept hidden in his desk at the station?

Of course Hopper knew, deep down, that his logic was ridiculous. He was in half of the fucking vacation photos for God’s sake. He’d taken almost all of them. And when he’d had the film developed, he’d made sure to remove from the envelope the ones he’d taken zoomed into your ass and tits before bringing the photos home. He couldn’t risk your mother getting a look at them. Or perhaps even worse, you might have seen them; and he couldn’t risk you thinking he wanted you…

…But Hopper did want you. It was eating him alive, like a gnawing in his gut and groin that hurt both his balls and his conscience. He daydreamed about you bringing him lunch at the station, maybe walking in on him without knocking while he was jerking off to one of his magazines. He kept one of his ‘special,’ photos of you (the zoomed-in ones) with him at all times, and the others he kept locked away in his personal safe at home. Only he knew the combination to get inside: his late daughter Sara’s birthdate. Hopper kept these photos to use any time he needed to fuck you, if only in his mind.

The evening our story takes place, you’d just come home from a date with a boy you met at work. The date had been alright, but you found guys your own age immature and boring. You were preparing to have a shower, carrying a towel, your pajamas, and a hair tie to the bathroom. As you turned the handle, however, you realized the shower was already on. You knew it wasn’t your mom getting a shower because you’d passed her on your way upstairs when you got home. And the scent of Hopper’s Irish Spring soap was in the air, not the flowery-scented body wash your mom used. So the only person that could be in there right now, you thought, is…Hopper.

As much as you wanted to stay, you knew you had to leave. And you would have, too, but something you heard made all the breath leave your lungs and froze you in place…your name.

Hopper was breathing heavily behind the shower curtain. You couldn’t understand any of the other words he was saying, but he had definitely muttered your name. Did he know you were in the bathroom? You didn’t see how he could have, but the other sounds you heard soon revealed exactly what was going on…

The slick sound of wet skin on skin, slapping, smacking rhythmically, was audible from your side of the shower curtain. Hopper was jerking off, you realized, and you felt your legs tremble. Knowing he was naked, wet, and horny as hell mere inches from where you stood, and that only a thin piece of shower curtain was separating your bodies? It was exhilarating, in the worst way. You forced yourself to take a step back, and were so close to leaving when you heard Hopper say your name again. You knew for sure he hadn’t seen you this time, so if he wasn’t talking to you, did that mean he was…masturbating to YOU?

The thought made your head dizzy, and seconds later when Hopper grunted, panting, releasing his semen into the water swirling at the base of the shower, you felt as if you’d seen it happen, just from hearing him come. And never in a million fucking years would you have expected the shower curtain to yank back, and Hopper’s eyes to lock with yours, as the water still poured behind him, dripping down his flushed face and chest, his softening (but still fucking massive) cock hanging at his thigh…

But that’s exactly what did happen. And Hopper was pissed. “Jesus Christ, (y/n)!” he shouted. “What the hell are you doing in here right now?!” He grabbed a towel off the rack beside you so quickly and with such force that it made you jump. “I’m s-sorry,” you stammered, and practically ran behind the safety of the door and shut it as quickly as possible.

Dinner that evening was…quiet. Awkward. Your mother had made mushroom ravioli (which you despised but Hopper loved). It was probably another of her pathetic attempts to make him love her. Of course, he never would. Not when she treated him the way she did. It was one thing to be religious, but your mother had lately become more rigid and uptight than ever before. Her ideas surrounding sex now bordered on puritanical. This drove Hopper crazy because he had an incredibly strong sexual appetite, and your mother was the total opposite. Early in their marriage, Hopper had loved your mother enough to put up with her sex drive being lower than his; but now, she rarely accepted any of his sexual advances. And although she didn’t know it, your mother’s dismissal of Hopper just made his desires for you burn hotter.

You sat across the table from him, avoiding his intense stare, feeling your cheeks burn in both shame and lust. How would you ever be able to look him in the eye again after what had happened earlier that night?

Hopper was staring holes through you, however. He was absolutely humiliated, and wanted to make you as uncomfortable under the intensity of his gaze as you had made him feel when you saw him naked in the shower. And the worst part of all was that he had no way of knowing how long you’d been standing there, how much you’d heard?

As dinner drew to a close, Hopper made up his mind to confront you about it. He would wait till after your mother had fallen asleep, then come to your room and have an uncomfortable, but necessary chat. He HAD to know how much of his shower activities you’d been witness to. Had you heard him groaning your name as he’d blown his load? It made him feel guilty and horny at the same time, knowing you might now be aware of his sick, hungry lust for you.

You excused yourself early from the dinner table. You couldn’t stand the tension of sitting under Hopper’s stare any longer. And also…you were horny as fuck. It was impossible to be sitting across from Hopper, now knowing what he looked like naked, that his cock was even bigger than you’d imagined it being…the way his hair was still damp and slicked back from his shower as he sat across the table from you, glaring and fuming, like he wanted to smack the shit out of you for what you’d done, for spying on him…

As soon as you closed your bedroom door, your hand immediately slid under the waistband of your shorts. You ran to your nightstand and pulled open the drawer. Inside, you found your collection of sex toys, and grabbed the largest dildo you owned. It may have been a poor substitute for Hopper’s cock, but it was all you had. As you rubbed the tip of the silicone cock against your clit, your body was so ready that you nearly came from that subtle stimulation alone. When you spread your lips with your fingers and pressed it inside you, your eyes rolled back as you replayed Hopper’s image in the shower in your mind. God, he was perfection. The way the water had dripped along his shoulders and down his chest, getting caught in the coarse hair that grew there… You imagined what it would feel like to be that water, licking down Hopper’s body, tasting his skin…

Your head was relaxed back on your pillows as you fucked yourself, imagining Hopper grabbing you and pulling you into the shower with him, forcing open your mouth and making you suck him hard again, then drink a second round of his cum as his cock pulsed it down your throat. The soft moans leaving your lips grew progressively louder…so loud that you didn’t even hear your bedroom door open, then close, and lock…

A hand covered your mouth; your eyes flew open. Hopper was staring down at you, his expression completely changed from moments before over the table. His chest was practically heaving, he was breathing so hard. With his palm covering your mouth, he raised a finger from his free hand to his lips, instructing you to stay quiet. His eyes traveled between your legs, where your dildo was buried six inches inside you. “Keep going,” Hopper whispered, his voice unlike you’d ever heard it before. In this moment, he sounded…dangerous. Like he was using every ounce of restraint he had to keep from doing something he’d later regret.

Hopper’s hand covered yours, the one holding the dildo. “I said…” his blue eyes slid back up to yours, and you shivered. “…keep going…”

He pushed down carefully on your hand, causing the dildo to move inside you. You whimpered involuntarily at the sensation it caused. In less than a minute, Hopper’s hand had completely replaced yours in holding the dildo, your own hand falling slack to the bed beside you as he fucked your cunt with the toy.

Hopper bent his face to your pussy and sucked at your clit while thrusting the dildo into you, stroking your walls with a speed and pressure you hadn’t been able to achieve on your own. His dick was so hard that the constriction of his pants was painful. Hopper moved a hand quickly to his crotch and undid his fly, letting his cock hang out, bobbing occasionally as he continued to fuck your pussy with the dildo, licking and sucking at your swollen bud.

Hopper slid a hand under your ass and spread your cheeks, his index finger penetrating you there as well. Your hole puckered and sucked him in, and now he was eating you out, fucking your cunt and fingering your ass all at once. You’d never been handled so masterfully in your life. It was as if Hopper had invented the female body, the way he knew you so intimately, so perfectly, his tongue and fingers working over you with the precision of an artist…

When you came, it was intense. Your orgasm lifted you up, out of yourself, like you’d been pulled to Heaven, before landing you back in your body to ride out the second half of your release, your cunt spraying the sheets beneath you, wetting Hopper’s face, slicking his beard. For at least three seconds, you lost consciousness, coiling and uncoiling again and again under Hopper’s ministrations.

…and then, he was on top of you, impatient, greedy, his heat covering you, the slick of your juices, his sweat and spit sticking to your body as he bit and kissed, and licked and sucked at your skin. Your body convulsed as Hopper entered you, roughly, his cock so much thicker than your toy. He pumped into you with such force that you came again after only a few thrusts, your walls clenching and squeezing every drop of cum out of him. Hopper didn’t mean to come inside you, but he couldn’t help it. You felt too good, he’d wanted this for so long…Hopper sprayed your unprotected cunt with his seed, and immediately cursed himself for his weakness, for his inability to pull out in time.

As he lifted himself off of you, the two of you looked between your bodies at the mess of Hopper’s cum leaking out of you.

“Shit…” Hopper growled. “Fucking shit…” He covered his face in his hands, the implications of what he’d done hitting him like a truck. You reached for him, touching his shoulder, and tried to assure him everything would be okay…but once again, Hopper wouldn’t look at you.

Instead, he looked at the dildo he’d thrown onto the floor before replacing it inside you with his cock in a moment of blind, self-serving lust. He could have kept fucking you with the toy, could have forced himself to accept that and move on…But in a moment of selfish, fuck-hungry greed, Hopper had lost all self control, and had not only put his dick inside you, but his cum as well. And potentially, so much more.

“I am…” Hopper’s voice faltered. “So sorry, (y/n).” He rubbed his forehead between his hands. “I didn’t mean to…usually I don’t come so…you just felt so goddamned tight…”

“It’s okay, Hopper,” you assured him. “Nothing’s going to happen.” You sighed. “We both fucked up, okay? It’s not just you.”

Hopper smiled weakly, grateful for your words. “We won’t let it happen again, will we?” he said. You couldn’t tell if he was asking you, or telling you. But regardless, Hopper was right. You couldn’t do this again. No matter how fucking good it had felt…it was still wrong. A mistake…a selfish, carnal, hedonistic mistake made in the heat of the moment.

“It won’t happen again,” you said. Hopper nodded, satisfied with your response. He apologized again, then left your bedroom to go help your mother finish cleaning the dishes.

You rolled over onto your side and fluffed your pillow, exhausted and ready for sleep. You glanced at your discarded dildo on the floor and smiled sadly, aware that from now on, no cock could ever make you feel as good as Hopper’s had…