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Slumber Party

Hopper x fem!reader🔥

A slumber party, you'd said. Jane wants a slumber party. He knows he's not going to survive this. Especially when he comes home and you're wearing his t-shirt. Thigh highs. A steamy hookup is in order.

Cw: smut, 18+, mdni, age gap (20s/40s), reader is horny af for Jim, fucking the babysitter, oral sex (both receiving), cum swallowing, fingering, teasing, manhandling, size kink, in which Hop is used to being dominant but greedily accepts reader's demands, reader is a bit of a brat, lots of tit talk, he steals your panties, Hopper's build is season 5 Hop bc 🤤, p in v sex, unprotected sex, reader is down bad for Jim and wants more, reader cries, Hopper is in for a long night with multiple orgasms, reader falls asleep on his beefy chest 😮‍💨

...why can't that be me?

Anyway. I so enjoyed this one and am tempted to do more with this? Idk.

Late nights after some of those scary moments with Jane were enough to make Hopper call in a favor.

You're a nice girl.

Old enough to drink, as he'd seen you at a bar before.

He knows your dad. Knows that you'd be trustworthy. Knows that your pops owes him about a dozen favors.

The first time he allows you over to meet Jane, he stays. He stays because he doesn't trust anyone - not after the lab and all this shit - but he realizes that you're good company; is pleased with how kind you are to Jane - how much you try to make a connection despite the age difference.

So he asks you over again.

Asks you to pick her up on days he's late at the station.

You're his first call.

It's becoming so bad, he makes you a spare key.

"If it's not a bother, would you come over tonight to keep an eye on Jane?" He's trying his best not to sound desperate over the phone line, but it's a tough night and he needs this support.

"Of course, Chief! No problem. What time do you need me?"

"Uhhhh...now would be great."

Your little laugh on the other line makes him feel filthy for thinking naughty things.

...so you're cute, what of it?

"Already grabbing my keys. What time should I expect you?"

"Late, unfortunately."

"Like...ten?"

"Eleven, if I'm lucky."

"And how many hours is that today, big guy?"

He holds back a groan, breathes deep, feigns unfazed by the nickname.

"Oh, I'm way over. Just waiting on these idiot big wigs to finish their yapping. I'll cut out when I can. Just...make sure she does some of those flashcards and get her something that's not loaded with sugar for dinner."

"Yes, sir."

You do it on purpose, he's convinced. Toying with him. Always stepping so close to some line, but never crossing it.

He likes it. Likes how you call him Jim, how your pretty lips curl up into a smile every time he walks through the door, how you follow his instructions to a T, how he pays you for babysitting but you always pretend to make an issue out of it before swiping his cash.

"Hey, I do have a favor to ask you, though, if you have a minute?"

Hopper bites back the urge to say "anything"

"Sure, yeah."

"I...kinda promised Jane that next time I watched her, we'd do the whole slumber party thing since she rarely gets to. Is...that okay?"

His mouth goes dry.

You.

Sleeping under the same roof.

How fucked, he thinks. How absolutely filthy he is for immediately thinking impure thoughts.

His silence startles you into speaking again.

"I am so sorry. I should have asked you before making promises. It's okay, I will clear it up with her and we can...-"

"No, no, sorry, just, uh...caught up in work. Yeah, that's...that's fine with me. Sure."

"Oh my God, thanks, Jim." You breathe, relieved on the other line. "Jesus, you're scary sometimes."

"Am I?" He cant help the lilt in his voice, the flirtation coming right though.

"Yes! You are..."

"I'll try to dial it back for you."

"Good. 11:00?"

"11:00...ish."

"Be safe tonight."

"Always."

When the line goes dead, Hopper runs a hand down his face, groans, tells himself to get a grip, and tries to focus on work.

•••

10:23 he's pulling up to the cabin, relieved to see your car safely parked, cabin lights low, curtains closed.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about you all night.

Door's locked. Good.

He inserts the key, twists, opens the door to see your surprised expression.

He fails at hiding his surprise.

You.

His shirt.

Thigh highs.

Tiny shorts.

"You weren't supposed to be home yet," you seem a bit...embarrassed, maybe?

He can't tell. Can barely tear his eyes away from your thighs.

"I spilled," Jane speaks up, holding a bottle of cranberry juice.

"Wore my pajamas here, didn't think to bring a change," you try to shrug off.

"Her clothes are in the wash now," Jane explains.

"I just grabbed something, I hope you don't mind. Jane's stuff is too small for me."

Those shorts are pretty small, he wants to comment.

"I planned to be in bed before you got home," you admit quietly. "Sorry we broke into your wardrobe."

Hopper waves it off, agrees to eat the pasta you made for Jane, sits at the table with the chair scooted in to purposefully cover his erection.

Popcorn. Movie. Your legs pulled up on the couch.

You're. A. Sight.

He's pretending to watch the TV from his spot at the table, but he can't stop staring at you.

Those legs, damn it. He wants to run his hands up them, squeeze, get you nice and comfortable in his lap before he slides those tiny shorts to the side and...-

"I'm going to bed," Jane announces as the credits roll.

Oh. Shit.

Hopper glances at the newspaper on the table as you walk by, grab his bowl with a, "you done?"

"Hm? Yeah."

You begin the dishes, in those damn thigh highs. And Hopper tries to not lose himself in fantasies.

You had to know what you were doing to him, right?

"Was work as bad as you expected?" Your voice breaks through the silent room and his loud brain.

He laughs. "It's work, isn't it always?"

"Not always."

"Oh, yeah? Not all of us get paid to have slumber parties in tiny little get ups."

The words slip from him before he realizes.

You quirk a brow at him, finish washing his bowl, touch a damp hand to his shirt you're in.

"This is tiny?"

You're right. You're swimming in it, you just tucked it in to the top of those damn shorts. He hadn't noticed, had been too distracted by your legs to see how long the sleeves of his t-shirt were on you; how wide the arms were.

You untuck, let it flow down. It's somehow almost worse now - more intimate feeling.

He bites his tongue, ogles at you, holds back a groan that only comes out as a deep exhale.

"I'm sure what you came in with was adorable," he teases.

"It was. And now it's stained," you deadpan.

You throw the towel at him, laugh, sit beside him at the table.

When he fishes in his pocket for his wallet, you watch with a humored expression.

"Reminds me..." he slaps cash on the table, like he always does for you.

And you roll your eyes and push it away, like you always do for him.

"Tonight was nothing. I did some flashcards with her, made some pasta, and turned on a movie. C'mon, Hop."

"Mm...take it. I owe you a new outfit."

You smirk. "Maybe I'll just take this one home with me."

And you catch his expression shift slightly, your eyes inspecting his face before you stand, touch his shoulder, make your way to Jane's door.

He thinks you're going to bed, wonders if you made a nest of blankets on the floor or took that ratty sleeping bag out of storage; wonders if he could convince you to take his bed. He'd take the couch; would happily stay awake haunted by the thought of you between his sheets.

Completely distracted with this fantasy, he misses that you'd closed her door, were walking back to him.

"I have another favor to ask, Jim..." your voice is whispered and he is so hooked.

"What's that, sweetheart?" He can't help but lean into the flirtation, drown in his lust for you.

"Touch me."

This time he can't hold back. His sharp inhale gives him away.

You're even closer now, and he instinctively moves the chair back to make room for you.

His fingers hook at your hips, pulling you in.

"Where?"

"Anywhere," you whisper, drawing even closer. "I tried to keep this at bay, but when Jane let me go through your shirts..."

You pause, play with the collar of his uniform, go sheepish.

"Tell me."

You look pointedly at him.

"I've had this crush for so long, Jim. And...I know this could ruin everything and I'm sorry if it's too much."

His fingers dip beneath the fabric of the shirt and he bites his tongue at how responsive you are to his simple touch.

You hiss an inhale, dig your nails gently into his neck.

He watches every move with hungry eyes.

"God...you're down bad, huh?" He teases quietly.

You look lusty and heated before saying,

"May I?"

Always the good girl.

"Sit," he demands.

You draw closer, hesitant but bold, and he moans when you straddle him instead.

Your expression shifts when you feel his hard cock.

Surprise and arousal look good on you, he thinks.

"Can't help myself around you," he admits. "Taken a lot of self-control."

"Then let go."

With you looking up at him like that, those curious eyes, the parted lips, the lust he can practically taste...he folds.

Temptation is a bitch.

His hands trail up your back, lifting the shirt slightly. He goes slack-jawed when he feels no bra on you.

"It's a sleepover," you tease. "Gotta be comfy."

"Jesus Christ..." he practically growls, lifting the shirt completely to see your perfect tits.

His hands fondle you before he takes a pretty nipple in his mouth, trails a tongue around.

You grind against him almost instinctively, needing more.

When you grip his hair and pull, he cant help the groan that leaves him.

Again, you yank, and he pops his mouth off of you, pulls back, only for you to capture his mouth in a needy kiss.

Fingers running through his hair, you grind against him, nibble at his lower lip.

And, God, didn't he know you'd be like this?

He can feel the precum beading at the tip of his cock from how you're grinding on him.

Fuck, he wants you.

Your hands drift down his belly, to his slacks.

You love the feel of him in your hands; how hard he is, how big.

With you fondling him like this, he can't help but lift his hips into your grasp, lean his head back at the pleasure of you finally touching him.

A noise startles the both of you, you almost falling off his lap in an attempt to stand, but he doesn't let you go; though your shirt falls back into place, to his dismay.

The sound was from outside, the wind blowing the trash can over.

Jane's door stays closed.

Wordlessly, Hopper lifts you, carries you across the room to the bathroom where he hoists you on the vanity.

You gape at him as you're closed in together.

"Kid sleeps like a rock," he informs. "She comes knocking, I'll tell her I took ya home," he mumbles into your neck.

"...my car's out front."

Oh, shit.

"You really wanna worry about that now?"

Hopper's big shoulders are suddenly at your knees as he crouches for you.

In awe, you shake your head.

You hadn't planned on the night going like this, but the feelings had been there. Being in his room, digging through his wardrobe...the shirt smelled like him, damn it, and it consumed your thoughts from the moment you slid it on.

His fingers pull at those tiny shorts, urging you to lift yourself just enough to yank them down your warm skin.

An appreciative hum fills the space as Hopper's lips kiss their way up your thighs.

Daydreams paled in comparison to the look of you - all flustered for him - spreading those pretty legs as he feels how wet you are through your panties.

He pulls them off you and pockets them - of course he does.

"Who's stealing wardrobes now?"

"Only fair," he mutters against your skin.

You'd like to come back with something quippy, but you're thrown off balance by him draping your legs over his shoulders, pulling you to the edge of the sink, and putting his mouth on your pussy.

A deep groan - almost growl - leaves him and it vibrates through you so intensely, you can't help but buck toward him.

A slick tongue swipes between your folds, lapping greedily at you.

An unzipping sound surprises you. Peeking an eye open, you ogle at the sight of him.

On his knees for you, pretty legs draped over him, his forearm muscles tensing as he pulls out his thick cock, starts stroking harshly.

You moan.

He stops.

"Shut up," he snaps quietly. "You wanna get caught? Huh?" His hand is still working himself, but his attention to you is gone.

"Wait, Jim. Don't stop."

He pauses, stares up at you.

"Beg."

"Huh?"

"I. Said. Beg. Me. For. It."

The defiance in your eyes humors him.

God, he wants to keep you.

"No? Fine, then." He makes a scene of standing up, loves the way your eyes drift down to his cock. "I'll just paint you instead."

Distracted by the view, your thighs press together now that he's no longer between them. You're dripping. Swollen. Needy.

He watches you adjust for stimulation.

"Off. Don't wanna get your new wardrobe dirty," he flicks at the hem with his free hand.

He's surprised you follow instructions this time.

Completely bare for him, minus the thigh highs, you think this is slightly unfair.

"You, too. Strip," you urge, reaching for the buttons of his uniform.

He huffs a laugh, shakes his head. "I don't think so, sweetheart."

You slowly prop a leg up beside yourself; exposed, fingers dancing up until you're practically playing with yourself.

His eyes are locked on you. You, open and dripping and waiting for him.

"I said anything. You want anything, you strip."

A beat passes between you, defiance flaring in his eyes, but you notice his jerking doesn't stop.

Slowly, you slip a finger inside of yourself, putting on a show for him - wondering who will break first.

Hopper feels the precum dotting on his tip, groans when his fist pumps it over his corona.

Fuck.

"Fine."

A momentary pause, Hop removes his uniform- loves that you slipped another finger inside yourself, how slow and purposefully you're moving. He believes this is how he'll get you to cum.

"God, you're perfect..." you whisper out, staring at his body.

"That's the last demand you'll get, you brat."

"I'm all yours."

His kisses are all hunger, all need, and you match them eagerly.

"Want my cock in you," he mutters, grips your neck. "But not yet."

He guides you down, grabs a fistful of your hair, and shoves you to your knees.

You ache from the floor, but the quiet breaths Hop lets out every time you deep throat makes up for the discomfort.

You want to be so full of him, want to come on his cock, but you're grateful for any attention he gives you, would thank him if your mouth weren't full.

"That's it, take it," it's barely a breath he lets out but you're fueled by the dirty words leaving him.

He's fucking into your mouth, careful not to be too loud. Your fingers work at your clit, dip your middle finger inside, grind against your palm.

Your attention to his dick falters just momentarily, but he notices.

When he sees you playing with yourself, he feels his balls tighten.

"Oh, fuck, look at you...so damn desperate for me."

You can't help but gasp for a breath as you reach your peak, rutting against your cupped palm as Hopper watches with eager eyes.

"Oh, fuck..." when your tongue trails on the underside of his cock, he can't hold back.

You swallow, eyes watering, some of his cum dripping down your swollen lips and beading down your tits.

Breathless, he watches you as you rush to stand, eyes darting to the doorway.

Slow to the take, Hopper hears Jane,

"You in there? I forgot to have you braid my hair!"

"Just brushing my teeth. I'll meet you in there."

"Okay!"

Well, fuck...

He grips you from behind as you're cleaning yourself off, then pulling his t-shirt back over your naked body, your shorts on without the panties he pocketed.

You wash your hands then brush your teeth with Hopper fondling your body. He's almost soft in this moment, his large arms a comfort, big body holding you tightly together. You could get used to it.

"You come right back," he warns.

"Yes, sir."

He lets out a growl that he always holds back when you say that.

"Need to feel you come. Not on your fingers this time. Let's see where I let you, hm?"

He points you toward the doorway, waits to hear you close Jane's door before starting up the shower.

Exhaustion plagues him, but tonight he eagerly awaits your return.

You take too long.

He's showered and dressed before he decides he can't wait in here anymore.

He decides to take the shirt back off for you, is humored by your comment..."you're perfect..." had anyone ever said that to him before? He was pretty sure not.

So, you're broken, he figures, absolutely cracked. Noted.

Leaning back in his chair in the living room, he tries to not let the exhaustion take over just yet; hopes to get a little more from you.

Jane's hair braided, an offer to make waffles in the morning, and you stay until she's soundly sleeping.

You couldn't rest right now anyway, still processing what just happened between you and Jim.

Quietly, you tiptoe out of the room, close the door behind you, and are unfazed seeing Jim snoring in the chair.

Probably bad for his back, you think, but the guy needs rest.

Draping a blanket over him, you grab another from the basket in the corner, flick off the kitchen lights, and curl up on the couch.

It isn't long until Hopper wakes, uncomfortable, and finds you cuddled up on his couch.

He takes a few minutes to watch, hoping you wake on your own, but his morning wood is highly distracting.

Slowly, he makes his way over, thinks better of his next move, and glances the way of Jane's room.

He shouldn't. He knows. It's filthy and wrong, but when was the last time he felt this good?

He couldn't wait. He couldn't.

Lifting you with ease, he hears your startled inhale, turns to carry you like some prize into his bedroom. Closes the door.

His intentions partly to move you to a more comfortable bed, partly more vulgar.

When he sets you on his bed, your eyes are wide open.

Sleepy looks cute on you, too, he thinks.

"I've already made my move, what's yours?" He whispers.

Wordlessly, you remove your shorts and thigh highs.

He strips, too, can't deal with more talk right now - if this gets interrupted by Jane he'll be mortified.

He cant risk the dirty talk right now, so he bites his tongue, climbs on top of you, loves how your hands are instantly on his skin.

You're still wet and ready for him.

He should probably wrap it - you're so young and probably fucking fertile - but he can't think more on that right now, as the blood has fully rushed to his cock.

He drags his cockhead along your wetness, kisses your mouth with such ferocity, you feel wanted and eager.

And then he's shoving himself into you and he's so damn thick, it takes a few gentle thrusts to get adjusted.

But the sound he makes in the back of his throat; quiet - barely there - you can't help but grip his big shoulders.

Hopper takes his time, partly because of how good it feels, partly because he's worried the bed will creak.

His back starts to hurt from the chair, but he doesn't want to admit that to you, so he demands, "want you on top. Want to watch those pretty tits."

Awkwardly, you two rearrange yourselves - nothing like porn, nothing smooth like maybe he used to. The bed is only so big, so he rolls beside you, attempts to keep your bodies connected, and lets you climb on top of him.

You doing the work does wonders for his back.

The moonlight glows through the curtains and - fuck - what a sight you are.

His fingers dig into the fleshy parts of your body, move you along on his cock. He's biting back moans at the way you ride him - clearly a good choice to have you top. Your movements are smooth, youthful and without pain. He could get used to this.

Your hands haven't stopped fondling him, he notices. Tracing across his wide chest, squeezing his big arms, running down his belly, playing with his pecs. He feels heated at the way you ogle at him.

And then you're leaning forward, pressing naked tits to him, kissing him softly on the mouth before peppering kisses to his neck and pecs.

A slight shift in your breathing. He hears it before he really feels you - you're so fucking wet it's dripping down his shaft and to his balls - the damn sheets will be wet.

You're. Close.

And - damn it - if you cum on his cock while fondling him like this, riding him so smooth...he might not be able to hold back. A moment of panic fills him, but you're nipping at his skin and he's back in the present moment.

"Cum for me, sweetheart..." he hums in your ear.

His deep voice, his demand, is what pushes you over the edge.

Your muscles are fucking squeezing his cock with every flutter of your orgasm. Being able to feel your pleasure sends a shiver down Hopper's spine.

He tries to hold back, tries to shove back the urgency, but you're still cumming and he's floored by this.

"Honey..." His gasp comes out a bit louder than he anticipated, with his ears ringing and his orgasm nearing.

"In me. Please. Please. I'm on the pill."

Immediately. Immediately, he's tilting his head back and pounding up into you, filling you deep.

He swears softly under his breath, quiet gasps leaving him as you rest yourself against his beefy chest.

You stay like this, listening to his heartbeat slow, letting him grope and fondle you, feeling his cock softening. You don't want to move, don't want to pop this bubble of intimacy.

Tears fill your eyes as you lay there, clinging to him.

You pepper open-mouthed kisses along his skin, memorize every moment you can.

Hopper's hands on you, he feels your breathing change, though you're hiding it.

"What's the matter?" His deep voice is laced with exhaustion. You're pretty sure you're addicted to how he sounds with your ear pressed against his naked chest.

"M'sorry. M'fine," you shake your head.

"Did I do somethin' wrong?" The fear in his voice gives you pause.

You look at him, handsome in the moon glow.

"No, God, no." Your hands cup his face and you kiss him deeply. "Just...can't help but feel like this is probably temporary. It feels like grief."

Hopper doesn't know what to say to that, doesn't want to make empty promises. Not to you.

So he lets you fondle him some more, lets his mind wander, grabs a shirt from the dresser to help wipe you up so you're not leaking his cum all over the sheets.

He figures you'll shift beside him, but you don't- you prefer to stay perched on top of him, face buried in his chest hair, breathing in his scent.

At some point, your breathing shifts and he knows you're soundly sleeping. Pain shooting up his spine, he softly rolls you beside him, covers you up, smooths your hair.

Selfishly, he stays. He should keep up appearances just in case Jane wakes before you, but the warmth coming from you, your soft skin, the feel of someone beside him in a bed again...he can't leave.

In and out of sleep, he seems to keep an ear out to listen for Jane, is restless and - shockingly - still riled up for you, the old man.

You must have slipped his shirt back on during the night, probably fearing Jane needing you.

When 5am hits, he's awakened by you kissing at his neck, hungry for more.

He loves the attention.

Especially when you dip below the sheets, put his cock in your mouth again.

You're really something.

It takes him a bit longer to get there this time - is surprised he's even ready again. He's exhausted in the best way.

He urges you up before you suffocate down there, kisses you hard before turning over and coaxing you to your belly.

He lifts you at the hips, guides himself to your entrance, and takes you from behind.

A quiet moan leaves you as you hug his pillow, breathe in his scent, are once again so full of him.

This position, the look of you like this, ready and wanting and wet again for him...

It's too much when he watches you reach between the mattress and your body, the knowledge that you're so desperate to cum, you're playing with yourself in this position?

Fuck.

He bottoms out, takes you slow like he remembers you touching yourself last night, and hears the sweet whisper of his name as you cum on his cock again.

"There ya go, honey. Rock back into me," he speaks in a whisper. "Fuck, yes. Just like that. God..."

He's filling this pretty cunt for the second time in hours and it takes all of his willpower to stay quiet.

You're spoiling him.

Reaching for his shirt again, he wipes you up, kisses along your spine, watches you flip over to trace your hands down his chest.

Your mouths move languidly together, enjoying these last few moments of bliss before you should probably go to the main room.

There are those damn tears again. Not falling this time, but the light catches them in your eyes.

"Wanted you for so long, Jim," you run your thumb along his facial hair. "Thanks for indulging this little crush I've got."

He chuckles. "Thank you for a pleasurable night. Jesus Christ, you're insatiable."

You smile. "For you? You have no idea."

You kiss him once more, he lets you sneak from under him to get your shorts on, letting his t-shirt hang, and you linger before the doorway, as if you want to say something else.

You decide against it.

You leave him wanting, still...

°°°

Jane wakes, well-rested, excited to see the waves the braids hopefully gave her.

When Hopper emerges from his room, he looks exhausted but pleased.

Jane is at the kitchen table, her back to you as you're undoing the rubber bands, letting the braids out.

With one hand free, you reach to pour coffee into Hopper's mug, then return to your work.

A plate of waffles sits in front of Jane. Syrup, whipped cream, sprinkles.

Hopper hums when he sips the coffee, glances over at your cup and chuckles. You must have brought creamer, knowing he takes his black.

"Your waffles are ready over there, sir," you blink over at him, a coy glance shot his way.

Hopper inhales slowly, moans an exhale as he lifts his coffee to his lips. He watches your reaction to the sound. You horny little...-

"Better watch," he warns. "I could get used to this."

You beam at him, a slight sadness tinging the edges though.

"Can she come again next weekend?" Jane gasps, unknowingly.

"Oh, I think that could be arranged."

He could lose himself in moments like these.

He'd like to.

#hopper

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