Dirty Dancing
Jim Hopper x AFAB! Reader
One day I'll write a story which actually has strange things happening but today is not that day. Bob didn't die, Eleven closed the rift at the end of Season 2 everyone is happy, leave me alone. I'm a Jopper fan 'til I die, but not for the purposes of this.
Set 1987 - Jim is approx 44/45, reader is approx 30/31.
Warnings: Swearing, p in v sex, lots of references to Hopper's size, creampie, multiple orgasms, slightly rough Hopper, cock bulging, age gap, nicknames - baby, babygirl.
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Jim has been oddly detached and quiet since yesterday evening. The stars had aligned along with your busy schedules and you’d managed to have a rare date night, going to the movies to watch ‘Dirty Dancing'. You thought he had enjoyed it, seeming engrossed rather than trying to get under the skirt of your dress like normal, but when you asked him what he thought on the drive home he simply shrugged and went to bed.
The following morning he’s still in his funk, not saying a word, departing for work with a distracted kiss to your cheek, a far cry from his usual passionate goodbyes that often left him running late and you in a state of undress.
His attitude bothers you all the way to the Diner.
“How was date night?” Donna asks you cautiously when you arrive, instantly noticing the way you fling your purse to the side and how you punch your card in with slightly more force than necessary.
“Well, I thought it went great, I really enjoyed the movie, evidently Jim’s experience of the evening was vastly different.” You rant, trying to tie up your apron, before giving up, elbows resting on the counter, head bowed in frustration.
“I’m guessing he didn’t, but how would I know? He’s barely said two words to me.” You mumble despondently, the whole thing has left you feeling rattled, you and Jim fought plenty but you’d never been given the cold shoulder without a good reason. Donna opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Joyce coming in to collect her usual lunch order to share with Bob.
“Hey! How was the date ni-?” She greets you excitedly, cutting off at the look on your face, and Donna’s frantic shaking of her head. “What happened?”
“Jim hasn’t spoken to her since the movie.” Donna stage whispers, hastily departing to wipe down tables at your glare.
“Hop’s not talking to you?” Joyce asks in concern, sitting on one of the vinyl stools.
“Apparently not.” You grunt, making up Bob’s sandwich.
“Did you have an argument?”
“No, we went out, we watched ‘Dirty Dancing’ then he was just off with me and still is.” You snap, knife ripping through the slice of bread you had been buttering, Joyce reaches across taking your shaking hand in hers. “Sorry Joyce, I didn’t mean to -” You trail off gesturing at her apologetically, she gives you a small understanding smile in return.
“Bob and I went to see ‘Dirty Dancing’ last week, and I think I know what’s bothering Hop - he feels old.” She says softly.
“Old?” You ask, feeling lost.
“Sweetie, you gotta remember Hopper, and I -” She adds with a slight wince, “- we were in our twenties in the sixties, the stuff they do in the film, the dances, we were doing that years ago. I think maybe it’s made him feel his age.”
“That's ridiculous! You and Jim aren’t old.” You say laughing.
“But we’re not young either, certainly not as young as you” She reminds you gently.
When you and Hopper had started dating a year ago it sent shockwaves through Hawkins, which was ironic considering all the other crazy shit that had happened, kids going missing left, right and center, secret government lab, literal demon creatures crawling out of the ground. Oh no, all that was nothing compared to the chief of police dating a woman 14 years his junior, 29 to his 43 at the time, never mind that you were a fully consenting adult, and you were the one that had pursued him.
Jim couldn’t for the life of him work out why ‘a sweet young thing like you’ could ever want ‘a grumpy, fat, miserable, old guy like him’, you couldn’t give him a proper answer, all you knew was that you loved him and there wasn’t a single thing he could do or say that would change your mind.
"So what should I do to make him feel less old?” You ask Joyce somewhat desperately.
“I might have a suggestion.” She grins wickedly, leaning in close.
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The plan was in place. Jane was staying at Max’s for another evening.You had primped and prepped yourself, wearing a dress not too dissimilar from Penny’s red halterneck in the film. The wine was poured, a couple of glasses already consumed for Dutch courage, you’d thrown pieces of coloured cloth over the table lamps to give the cabin an orange-reddish glow, and finally you had one of Jim’s favorites from his vinyl collection queued up and ready; Solomon Burke’s Rock ‘N Soul. You wring your hands nervously upon hearing the truck pull up outside, straightening out your dress, and quickly rechecking your hair in the small mirror on the wall as Jim tiredly trudges in toeing his boots off without looking at you.
“Hey baby, sorry I’m a little late Callahan screwed up a report and I -” He trails off finally glancing up at you, brows creased slightly in confusion, as he surveys you and the cabin. “ - what’s all this?”
“I know what’s been bothering you since yesterday, and I want you to know that I understand why, and I want to help.” You say softly, approaching him, going up on bare tiptoes to kiss him gently. He returns the kiss eagerly albeit somewhat surprised, a large hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“Baby, I'm at a loss here.” He murmurs against your lips, but allows you to pull him by his belt to the centre of the room nonetheless.
“Joyce said the film last night might have made you feel - nostalgic, and I want to show you that you’re not down and out just yet Jim Hopper.” You purr, leaning away to put the record on, Cry to Me filling the room. “Dance with me?” You ask quietly, unable to keep the pleading edge out of your voice.
Jim lets out a shaky breath, as you loop your arms around his neck, your height difference making him lean down slightly, chest to chest, his strong hands splayed across the top and small of your back.
You weren’t one hundred percent sure how to move so you simply rocked your hips, letting the music take control, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of Jim’s neck. He sighs softly, eyes closing at your touch, and you smile as you feel him start to move along with you. You experimentally lean back, pressing into his grip, he follows you lips tracing against your throat, before bringing you close again. You’re both smiling now, swaying more, his pelvis flush with yours, grinding against each other. You unbutton his police shirt, the fabric falling forgotten to the floor, leaving him in just a tight white vest, hands wandering again tracing his muscles stopping just shy of crotch.
“Not teasing baby, just dancing.” You say sweetly.
Jim’s touch snakes from the small of your back to the flesh of your ass, gripping firmly, using his hold to hook one of your legs up, slotting his broad thigh into the gap, smirking wickedly when you gasp at the pressure against your clit, the material of your panties shifting with Jim’s movements.
“Hop -” You sigh dreamily, as he uses his strength to rock you back and forth.
“This is how we used to do it in the good old days, baby.” He says, voice gravelly. “You’d hold your best girl tight, dancing nice and close.” He grips you harder for emphasis, dress half bunched up around your waist, fingers digging into the soft swell of your ass.
“I’m your best girl?” You ask softly, clinging onto his shoulders, gyrating slightly as your head falls back.
Jim lifts you up suddenly, your legs automatically locking around his thick hips, breath catching in your throat at the look of desire in his eyes.
“My best everything.” He whispers before bringing you to his lips in a searing kiss, tongue licking languidly into your mouth. You reach up, pulling at the straps of your halterneck until they come undone, the dress slipping past your bare breasts. Hopper groans, nipping at your earlobe, your jaw line, your throat, you can feel his hardness pressed to your center straining against his slacks.
He carries you to the bedroom, lowering you gently to the bed, pupils blown wide as he steps back to watch you pull the dress off your lower half, taking your panties with it, leaving your glistening core on display.
“Shit baby, I am one lucky son of a bitch.” He breathes, yanking his vest over his head, you crawl towards him on your knees, unbuckling his belt, both of you working with frantic hands to get his pants and underwear down.
Jim wraps his arms around you again, manhandling you with ease to rest against the pillows, his large frame dwarfing you. Your kisses are messy, verging on desperation, hands petting each other heavily, hips bucking with need.
He rubs his thick cock over your dripping slit, and you let out a soft moan, back arching up into his strong chest, nipples peaked and sensitive.
“This all for me, baby girl?” He hums, grinning as you nod wordlessly, rocking the swollen head of his dick against your aching pussy, slipping in just an inch before pulling back again.
“Don’t tease me Jim.” You pout, hands on his ass trying to bring him closer.
“Not teasing baby, just dancing.” He coos smugly, filling you with a single thrust that has you crying out, cunt clenching at the delicious stretch.
His hips are flush to your own, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickling against your clit, heavy balls slapping your ass with each drag and hit. Hopper is marking up the delicate skin of your neck with multiple hickies, like you’re teenagers, the harsh suck and gentle soothing lick sends you higher, a fresh surge of wetness coating his cock in a ring of cream.
“I can feel you squeezing me baby.” He growls, muscular arm braced against the headboard, driving him harder and deeper into your fluttering cunt.
“Hop!” You squeak, unable to do anything other than grip his shoulders, anchoring you to him through the onslaught of pounding thrusts. You feel your slick dribbling out, pussy squelching obscenely, being made to fit around Jim’s hard length.
“You gonna cum for me baby girl?” He asks, panting, the large hand that was gripping your hip moving to stroke over your swollen clit.
“J-Jim…” You whine brokenly, orgasm rushing through you like a flash-flood, wrapping your legs around his hips again, cock hitting you relentlessly.
“Yes - shit - so good, my best girl.” He groans, flipping you suddenly so you’re on top, limp like a rag doll as Jim squeezes your hips in a bruising hold, rutting up into you. “You’re getting my balls wet baby.” He chuckles, voice strained, you can only whimper, nails digging into his chest, back arched, skin covered in a light sheen of sweat.
He sits up, strong arms wrapped tight around your back, jackhammering his cock so deep you feel your belly concave with the bulge. You’re keening into his mouth, tongues sliding against each other, your stomach tightening again with a telltale warmth.
“Jim - I’m - oh my god.” You stammer weakly, foreheads pressed together.
“That’s it baby girl cum with me, let me fill you up.” He says roughly, grunting as you clamp and spasm around his cock once more, drawing out his own release, spurting thick heavy loads deep within you.
There’s a vague ringing in your ears, and you register that the record has long stopped playing, the only sound in the cabin being your light gasps and Jim’s staggered breathing. He kisses you tenderly, as he pulls out, dick twitching at the sight of his seed dripping from your puffy cunt.
“I love you so much baby.” He murmurs, cradling your face, laying back against the pillows, with you still sprawled listless on top of him.
“I love you Jim.” You smile blissfully, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips.
“Sorry for being a grump.” He sighs.
“Hop - I don’t care how old you are, I’d have loved you when you were twenty, and I’ll love you just as much as I do now when you’re sixty.” You say sincerely, giggling when he grimaces at the word ‘sixty’. “There’s no one else I’ll ever want.”
“You keep saying sweet things like that, we’ll be dancing again.” He warns, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass.
“Sure you don’t need a rest, old man?” You tease, choking on a moan, as Jim presses his rock hard cock back into your tight wet heat.
“You’re in for it now baby girl.”
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