#chief jim hopper fanfiction

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Perv!Dark!Jim Hopper x fem!reader • Jealousy, angst, posessive Hopper • Hopper has a corruption kink and some dark fantasies about reader

PART TWO

Chief Jim Hopper knew he had a problem; several, in fact. There was his moderate abuse of alcohol which bordered on severe, especially under times of heightened stress (which to be fair, seemed like most of the time these days). Then there was his pill addiction, the ones he found himself leaning on throughout the day when the effects of the previous night’s alcohol had worn off. But the problem Hopper had that bothered him the most, perhaps, was the one that involved YOU…

He was absolutely, unequivocally in lust with you. Every time Hopper saw you, the limited bit of feminism he’d learned over the years flew right out the window. He wanted you, and not in a pretty way, or any way that implied romance, flowers, dating, none of that. He wanted you carnally, in a way that almost frightened him because of the strength behind it.

Hopper knew he could control himself, at least physically. He wasn’t worried about that, wasn’t concerned that he’d hurt you. But mentally…he was out of control. The fantasies that filled his mind involving you were beyond pornographic; they were sinful. Everything sweet about you, everything pure, Hopper wanted to corrupt.

As the station’s new secretary, he saw you daily, heard your voice chatting on the phone and with your co-workers. And fuck, how he wanted you. He wanted to know if your pretty face would still look so sweet, so innocent, with his cum running down it? How distorted would your sweet voice sound with his cock rammed down your throat? Would you still be smiling if his hands were in your hair, yanking it backwards as he stretched your asshole beyond its capacity to take him?

Hopper knew he was sick. And sometimes, when he was alone and drunk, or high, he didn’t fucking care that he was sick. He didn’t mind being a monster, in those moments with his hand around his cock, lying on his back with his eyes closed, imagining your mouth around him instead. Servicing him, seducing him, your pretty eyes on his and only him.

He was your boss, after all. Your superior in every way. How Hopper wished he could take advantage of that superiority, to abuse his position of power as thoroughly as he longed to abuse your throat. It was all fantasy, of course, and therefore safe. A secret indulgence that Hopper took little pride in during sobriety, but that he found himself a slave to when intoxicated. Even at the station, he’d have no choice but to relieve himself in the privacy of his office.

Hearing your voice just outside his door, knowing what you were wearing as he’d seen you when he entered the station that morning, Hopper would lock his door and have his pants undone before he got back to his chair. He’d loosen the top buttons of his shirt, sit back and stroke himself to the sound of your voice beyond the door, hanging on your words, the gentle trill of your laughter. He’d imagine how pretty your moans would sound as he took you from behind, how sweetly you’d whimper as he pumped his cum inside you, then licked you clean.

Hopper would reach for whatever was nearby, usually his emptied coffee cup from that morning, and ejaculate into it. And what a poor substitute for your mouth it was, he’d think, breathless and leaning fully back in his chair, cock still leaking and twitching in his hand. He’d always toss the cup into the trash can and clean himself up, so no one suspected a thing. No one else at the station was aware of his perversions, and that’s how Hopper wanted it to be. He knew that if his secret got out, it would ruin his already faltering reputation within the community. Hawkins was his hometown, and had generally been sympathetic considering his past trauma and choice to return home after the death of his daughter. But this? Combined with the rumors of Hopper’s substance abuse, the fact that he was lusting after the new secretary at least ten years his junior would likely solidify his reputation as a degenerate and render him unfit for duty.

Hopper was lonely, very lonely. It had been months since he’d last had a woman, and even then, it was so casual and boring that it meant nothing to him. He hadn’t even wanted her, truthfully; she was just a wet, willing mouth to suck him off, parked behind The Hideaway bar downtown after they’d both indulged in far too many beers. She’d swallowed his cum, he’d fingered her in the front seat to climax, and that was the end of it. She’d left his car for her own, parked a few feet away, and they’d never seen each other since. She’d tried to get his attention in the weeks after, but Hopper wasn’t interested.

Because a week later, you’d come to work at the station, and Hopper’s world (at least, his internal world) had been flipped upside down. He’d never been more attracted to anyone in his life, never felt such an instinctive, primal yearning for a woman who he literally knew almost nothing about. But really, Hopper would ask himself, did he need to know more? He could see everything he wanted to take from you, from just one look in your direction. That body…those soft pink lips that would look even softer with his cum dripping out of them…Your eyes, beautiful eyes that he needed to see rolled back while gagging on his cock…

Hopper was reaching a breaking point, he feared. Although he knew he’d never hurt you, he needed to. He needed to know what you felt like around his dick, what sounds you’d make taking him. He wondered if you’d ever been with a man as big as him before? Hopper knew he was hung, at least three inches above the average man’s size. He was thick too, and he knew from experience that women appreciate a cock with not only length but girth as well. He knew he could pease you, could do things to your body that no other man ever had, if only you’d allow him. If only, if only, if only…

Hopper was drowning in ‘if only’s.’ One way or another, he would have you. The first step , he decided, was to approach you as a colleague. Not as your boss, necessarily, even though that’s what he was. He needed to be subtle about his approach, so as not to come across as abusing his position of power over you. This needed to go down smoothly, softly, a calculated plan of action that Hopper was dedicated to seeing through, from the beginning to where it ended with his cock buried inside you…

He planned to approach you at the station’s annual ‘Spring Fling,’ a community fundraising event for local charities held every year on the second Saturday in April. Hopper chose this event because it was outside of work, yet as an employee of the Hawkins P.D. you were sure to be there. The days leading up to the Spring Fling were the hardest for Hopper, both figuratively and literally. He’d never had to masturbate so often in his life, finding himself painfully hard through most of the work day just being near you. Thank god for the privacy of his office and the lock on its door. Hopper had begun taking extra coffee in the morning with the excuse that he was more tied than usual, with the actual intent of dumping the coffee out and using the empty cups to cum inside.

He groomed himself as usual the morning of the event, taking slightly longer to adjust himself in the mirror before leaving his trailer. Hopper had been a little self conscious about his weight in recent years, but he was tall and knew that his height worked as an advantage for him. Straightening in the mirror, pressing his shoulders back, he met his eyes in his reflection, their deep, intense blue. He was ready.

Hopper planned to make casual, friendly conversation with you, before inviting you to dinner. He’d control his body as best he could, force his eyes not to wander from your eyes to anywhere besides your lips, perhaps, and even then, for the briefest of moments. He needed to seal this deal, to secure your trust (although as Chief of Police and your employer, he was reasonably sure he already had it). No need to get ahead of himself, however, Hopper remembered. It was better to assume you had at least a neutral opinion of him before proceeding, rather than expect your automatic approval.

When he arrived at the Spring Fling, Hopper was surprised to see how just many people had turned out. The event usually drew a big crowd, but the majority of Hawkins seemed to be there this year. It was promising for the charities hoping to earn donations that day, but made Hopper’s effort to spot you in the crowd more difficult. He met up with officers Callahan and Powell, and lingered with them near the stage set up for music to be performed later, hoping that perhaps the trio of them would catch your eye and prompt you to say hello.

When Hopper did see you, he was awestruck. You were, to him, like something divine: an angel dressed in white, your long skirt moving gently in the light April breeze, the neckline low enough to display your breasts but modest enough to keep his mind actively wondering for more. Your hair was pinned up by bright yellow ribbons, tied together at the back of your head to create what looked to Hopper like the crown a princess in a fairytale might wear.

You were so effortlessly elegant, so perfectly innocent, moving through the crowd completely unaware of the effect you were having on Hopper, and likely most of the other men in attendance. Hopper opened his lips to speak as you approached, but was stopped short when he noticed the young man walking alongside you. Hopper hadn’t seen him before, had been so lost in the sight of you that anyone else near you had faded into the background of his vision, blurred by your presence.

The young man smiled and placed his arm around your waist, as if to claim you. Hopper’s jaw tightened; he’d seen this man before. Up close, he was barely a man at all, at least as Hopper perceived. This was a boy, in his early twenties Hopper assumed. Hopper wondered what this boy was doing for you, what he was doing to you, knowing full well that he could do it so much better, regardless of how good this boy was in bed-

“Chief!” you said brightly, pulling Hopper from his vindictive string of thoughts. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe this many people showed up today, isn’t it great?”

Hopper forced a polite smile onto his face.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m glad to see such a big turnout.” Hopper’s eyes narrowed slightly at the man with his arm around your waist. “You look beautiful, (y/n),” he said, and you smiled, cheeks going slightly pink. Because of course they did. Of course you blushed easily, because you were so sweet, so soft. And it made Hopper want to absolutely ruin you…

“Who’s your friend?” he asked, his tone slightly sharper than he’d intended. You smiled and looked up at the (admittedly handsome, Hopper conceded) man beside you. “This is Steve, my boyfriend,” you replied, your cheeks going pinker. The young man extended his hand to Hopper for a friendly shake. “Steve Harrington,” he said, his big brown eyes full of a joy that Hopper had only dreamed of ever experiencing. “My mom runs one of the charities participating here today, right over-.” He pointed awkwardly past Hopper, who didn’t bother to look, chuckling slightly. “-Over there,” Steve continued, adding “it’s good to meet you, Chief.”

Hopper studied the boy a moment longer, committing to memory all of the details about him he’d have to pick apart and analyze later. “Likewise,” Hopper lied, taking Steve’s hand and squeezing harder than he needed. Steve’s eyebrows rose but his smile remained polite. “Well uh, (y/n) tells me a lot about her new job,” Steve said, his tone pleasant as ever. Hopper’s eyes shifted back to you. “Does she?” he asked, and you smiled up at Steve.

“I tell him what I can,” you teased. “But not all the details; I can’t give away too much information about everything that goes on at the station-.” You playfully patted Hopper’s arm, and he swallowed. “-You know,” you continued. “Official police business and all that…”

Hopper knew you only were being friendly, but his paranoia made him wonder exactly how much you knew about what went on at the station? Specifically, his daily masturbation when you were just outside his door? Hopper forced the possibility away, refusing to entertain it. If you knew about it, you probably wouldn’t be so friendly towards him right now, or anytime for that matter. You’d probably think your boss was a pervert (and that’s exactly what Hopper knew he was) never speaking to him again unless you had to. You were too sweet, too innocent, to ever condone such carnal, almost animalistic behavior from a man, surely. At least, that’s what Hopper had always assumed. It’s why he wanted to test how far he could soil such a pretty little flower, to pluck every petal and see what you were capable of underneath?

“Only good things,” Steve assured Hopper. He nodded politely. “Well that’s good to hear,” Hopper said, but he wasn’t looking at Steve; he was looking at you. “(Y/N) is a real asset to the station. We’re lucky to have her.”

Steve smiled down at you warmly. “Me too,” he murmured, and you leaned into each other for a quick kiss. Hopper felt his blood boiling.

You noticed the odd look on the Chief’s face, and felt slightly embarrassed. Even though you weren’t at work, and in a casual setting, you worried maybe it was still unprofessional to give your boyfriend a kiss in this situation? In front of your boss? You were still learning the proper decorum for working at the station, and you hoped your innocent display with Steve hadn’t rubbed Hopper the wrong way. The last thing you wanted to be was unprofessional.

To lighten the mood, you decided to attempt a joke. “I think,” you told Steve, glancing from him to Hopper. “The reason the Chief likes me is because I get him those extra cups of coffee right away every time he asks for them.”

Hopper couldn’t help it; his eyes widened slightly. You were giggling, probably oblivious to the actual weight of what you’d said, but…Hopper’s paranoia lurched in his stomach. What if…what if you did know? He scanned your eyes for any sign of hidden meaning, for any indication that you were on to his behavior behind the office door. But all Hopper saw in your eyes was, as usual, a beautiful innocence that lay waiting to be corrupted…

Steve chimed in with “I’ll bet you need every last drop too, huh Chief?”

Hopper frowned at him, not understanding for a moment before he realized Steve was talking about coffee. “With your job, being so stressful, I mean.”

Hopper nodded, realizing that his dislike of Steve Harrington was rapidly shifting to hatred. “Yeah, it’s a job alright,” Hopper muttered in Steve’s direction, still avoiding looking at him.

You noticed a friend of your and Steve’s a few feet away, and waved to them. Steve saw them as well, and you both took a step in their direction. “Gotta go, boss,” you smiled warmly at Hopper. “See you Monday morning.”

Hopper grinned tightly, glancing very briefly at Steve when the younger man took his hand again. “Pleasure to meet ya, Chief,” Steve told him. Hopper didn’t return the sentiment.

The rest of the event dragged on for Hopper monotonously. Although he tried his best to avoid seeking you out in the crowd, he still found himself looking for the yellow ribbons adorning your hair, and the white dress that drifted so gently in the breeze. It was a welcome distraction in a way, having so many people around, speaking to him even though he had no interest in them or their conversation. There was only one person in the crowd that he cared about; and now, he knew that having you would be more of a challenge than ever.

Hopper felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned. He was looking at a woman, and it took him a solid thirty seconds to recognize that she was the woman he’d fucked in his car months ago. “Hello there, Sherrif,” she said with an overly flirtatious drawl, her voice and demeanor reeking of desperation. She slid her hand down Hopper’s arm, and he watched it, noting the harsh, tacky shade of her nail polish. He knew that you would never wear such a color. You kept your nails neat and pretty, painted in soft pastels like the flowers in your hair.

Hopper hated this woman’s hand on him. He hated the way her neon pink lipstick had transferred onto her teeth as she smiled up at him, waiting for validation. Hopper wondered how long it would take to wash that disgusting pink lipstick off his dick later? He smiled back at the woman, watching her light up at his attention, that he remembered her. There was nothing in this for Hopper, he realized, besides a quick fix to a problem only your body, your mouth, could solve for him.

He looked past the woman briefly just in time to see you and Steve leaving the event together, hardly able to keep your hands off each other. It was all the motivation Hopper needed to make yet another bad decision; and so he took the woman’s hand in his, and asked her a question he already knew the answer to: “What’re you doing tonight?”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone (Part 2)

Pairing: Jim Hopper x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: This is a continuation of "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone" where the reader is a secretary at the Sheriff's Department and Hopper drives her to and from work everyday. Hopper gets worried when he finds out the reader is sick and decides to take care of her. This story is the aftermath and set a few days after the reader has recovered. Set before the events of Season One of Stranger Things.

Tropes: Mutual pining, angst, fluff, grump x sunshine, age gap (reader is fresh out of college), jealousy, shy reader

Warnings: No Smut, mostly fluff, self-deprecating talk, indecisiveness, occasional cursing/a lot of cursing, Hopper is a little OOC, contains a few references to sex (I'm going to label this one mature just in case, only because of Sandra.)

Word Count: 4.7k (I'm so sorry- but not really because it's great)

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

Internal monologue is done in italics

Honestly, this is kinda self-indulgent, but absolutely necessary. If you don't like, don't read. If you do like, you're my favorite!

ENJOY!

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

Exactly four days later you feel 100 times better and are ready to go back to work. Hopper hadn't stopped by again, but he had called to see how you were feeling and if you needed a ride to work. You glance at your reflection in the mirror trying not to cringe at the memory of Hopper peeling you off the bathroom floor and tucking you into bed.

UGH. I can't believe he saw me like that. You groan to yourself. All stuffy, hoarse, and drippy. EW. You internally curse Marcie for bringing back the illness from work. But then you thank her.

You had spent an entire day with Jim Hopper and you weren't scared. It wasn't that you were afraid of him hurting you, but rather that you were shy and usually couldn't think of too much to say to him without blurting out how nice you thought he looked.

He made you soup, carried you to bed, and carried you to the couch. Your cheeks warm with the memory of how perfect it felt to be held against his large chest, how his arms seemed to be made to carry you. You glance at my reflection in the mirror, thinking about putting on some of Marcie's makeup.

After Jim had seen you sick, you thought that maybe today you should try harder to dress up to erase the image of your feverish and leaky self the other day. You stutter on the thought of his name. When he left you hadn't meant to say it, you just wanted to call him by his first name because what he was doing felt personal and in that moment calling him Hopper, sounded wrong.

Maybe I scared him. You snort at the thought of scaring a man almost three times your size.

You were aware that your feelings for Hopper had passed work colleagues and friends a while ago, and you had been successfully ignoring them, until he showed up like a knight in shining armor and took care of you when you were sick.

I mean the man peeled me off the bathroom floor and TALKED TO MY MOTHER.

You flinch at that though. That had been increasingly awkward when she demanded to know if you were sleeping with your boss, a question that Marcie asked you when Hopper left and she came out of the shower with a wide smirk. When you said no she then tried to convince you that he wanted to, but you shook her off and went to bed.

Bed being a relative term, because every time you closed your eyes you thought about how good it felt to be pressed against him when he carried you.

That entire day all you could think of was that it seemed like maybe he had feelings for you too, but then when you hugged him and said his name he bolted.

You sigh to yourself, applying a small amount of mascara to your lashes, that you will inevitably rub off, and spritz your tangerine perfume twice in the air before glancing one more time in the mirror and walking to the living room.

Hopper's car appears in the driveway and you practically float out the front door, smiling to him through the windshield before looking down at the ground with red cheeks.

"Hi." You smile at him while climbing up into the car with as much grace as you can muster.

"Hey." His smile is wide, but his voice sounds a little hoarse.

"Oh no are you getting sick. I'm so sorry-"

Hopper clears his throat. "It's okay I'm fine."

"Well just let me know and I can make you some chicken soup, return the favor- ya know." You smile wider moving closer to the middle of the car, to bump your knee against his.

"Yeah." Hopper leans away, making you feel like a bucket of ice water has been dropped on you.

What did I do?

"Well I made you some lemon squares anyway." You reach into your purse before pulling out the container to give it to him.

"Lemon Squares?" The corner of his lip quirks.

"Yeah I made them from scratch."

"Really?"

"Mhmm. It's what I wanted to do before I started working at the department." You place the box on the seat between you.

"Make lemon squares?"

"No. Open a bakery." You blush looking out the window of the car and thinking of all the plans you had. "Now that kinda feels like that is on the back burner for a bit, just until I get more comfortable in Hawkins."

"I didn't know you liked baking that much." He looks over at you curiously from under the brim of his hat in a way that makes you believe that he sees right through you.

"Yeah I went to a fancy schmancy baking school and everything and I was going to open a bakery where I lived, but Marcie called, said she had cheap rent here and we always said we would be roommates so-" You shrug your shoulders. "Ended up here."

"And you hate it?" Hopper offers.

"No. It's just different." You smile over at him. "I actually really like working at the department, everyone's really friendly."

He snorts. "Not everyone."

"So what? You're a little grumpy, I think it's kinda cute-" As soon as the words pass through your lips you suddenly think that you've said something wrong, because Hopper's entire body goes taunt and he looks away out the windshield. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" You begin to apologize, blushing deeply.

You honestly hadn't meant to say it, but it was all you thought when you walked by his office door and saw him scowling down at some paperwork on his desk or when Callahan would ask him a stupid question before Hopper had his coffee.

"It's okay." Hopper's voice is tight, but he doesn't look at you in the minute that follows before he pulls into the parking lot of the station. He practically jumps from the car before he puts it in park, which you don't understand because you believe it should be you that's embarrassed. You didn’t think it would offend him so much.

Your cheeks are still burning with embarrassment as you walk behind him through the front doors, that he holds open for you, without making eye contact.

"Hey (y/n)! Good morning! I got you coffee." Callahan gestures with a full mug in his hand so enthusiastically he spills some of it on the stack of papers on the edge of your desk.

"Oh-um- thanks Callahan." Your smile is tight lipped, still too focused on what just happened in the car to give Callahan your full attention.

Callahan usually said hello before his shift and did occasionally bring you coffee. And although you thought he was sweet, he was too sweet. You preferred Hopper's grouchiness to Callahan's happy go lucky attitude, but still appreciated Callahan's positivity in the office.

Hopper growls something under his breath and sidesteps around Callahan to get to his office without looking back. Callahan follows behind him obediently asking Hopper about something that happened yesterday.

You sit down at your desk and try really hard not to cry, but every second sit there what you said and Hopper's reaction chase each other round and round in your head.

How could I be so stupid? How could I say that? He's your boss- you shouldn't be trying to get close to him.

At lunchtime you try again.

Your knock at his office door is light, but after an audible pause he tells you to come in. Hopper's eyes are focused on the stack of papers in front of him, cigarette still smoking in the ashtray, and although you know he's working, you have the sneakiest suspicion that he is faking. The Hopper before this morning usually looked up as soon as you walked in and smiled, ignoring the stack of papers on his desk no matter how tall it was- but not today, not in the aftermath of your slip-up.

"Hey I just thought I'd bring you a lemon square to go with your lunch." You smile at him, hoping that he will acknowledge your entry into the room.

"Uh-thanks." He doesn't look up.

You place it just on the edge of his desk just out of his vision, waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn’t.  His gaze remains leveled at the paper. So you turn to go, defeated.

"Hey (y/n)-"

You whirl around, your heart surging-

"Um I'm going to be a little late tonight. Maybe you should call Marcie to come get you." He says it plainly, controlled, still looking down at the file.

"Oh-um-okay." Your heart breaks inside your chest and tears begin to bubble up in your eyes, but you hold back the tears. "That's alright I hope you don't have to stay too late."

You practically run to the bathroom before the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks, soft sobs shaking your shoulders. Why did I do this? Why couldn't I have kept my big mouth shut? Pretend that I didn't have feelings? The mascara you applied that morning blurs and stains the soft skin below your eyes. You spend another 8 minutes in the bathroom trying to remove it and finally when you emerge from the bathroom with bloodshot eyes and bright pink skin, your day somehow gets worse.

Sandra breezes past your desk as soon as you sit down. Damn Sandra. You have to clench your teeth together to avoid the slew of curses that bite against the tip of your tongue.

"Hopper." She purrs sauntering over to catch Hopper just as he leaves his office. She's wearing a dark red dress that hugs her every curve and runs one hand through her perfectly curled black hair where two plastic earrings tangle into the strands.

What person wears a dress that revealing to work? You think to yourself, watching Sandra flash her perfectly tan skin when she pulls off her sweater, before leaning into Jim with a sickening smile.

You force your eyes onto a piece of paper on my desk, but the words all blur together into a haze of black and white.

Sandra was in essence... everything you wanted to be. She was confident, sexy, and beautiful. She also wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind, that became increasingly apparent when Hopper first started driving you to and from work and she cornered you in the bathroom.

*4 Months Ago*

"So you and the chief are getting cozy-" She was waiting at one of the vanity mirrors for you to come out of a stall while applying a fresh coat of dark red lipstick.

"Um I don't think we-" You had practically jumped when she appeared outside your stall door. Sandra hadn't said two words to you since you started working at the department. She worked in the call room and answered the phone, while you worked in the main lobby with Flo.

"Look Honey I’m gonna give you some advice, because I’ve seen this happen more than once.”  She makes eye contact with you, still swiping the dark colored stick back and forth, purposely plumping out her lips. “Sure he seems interested in you now, maybe he takes you out once or twice, laughs at your jokes, pays for dinner, is just the right amount of charming- Jim Hopper is the smoothest man who knows how to work any woman under him.” She pauses with a sigh. “He’ll screw your brains out- and it will be incredible, mind blowing-but at the end of the day Hopper is damaged goods. Can’t get it together enough to stay with a woman for more than one night, of course we seem to be closer than the others…” She trails off proudly with a shrug, before putting her lipstick in her purse and taking out a tube of mascara. “But I’m warning you now, you can’t have a relationship with him. He's only good for one thing and definitely not boyfriend material. Anything he says to you before he gets you in bed, is just a lie, broken promises. I've seen it time and time again, all these women who think they can change him. But no. He doesn't change. All that shit with his daughter and his ex-wife messed him up for all of us, which really is a shame because damn I’d like to have him all the time.” Sandra sighs mournfully.

She doesn’t even care what he’s been through, doesn’t even care what he feels. You stand there in stunned silence, trying to stop the all encompassing rage that surges up with her words. How dare she simplify him to just a piece of meat? Jim Hopper is one of the most kind, compassionate men that I've ever met. And yes maybe at the beginning he ignored me, which I've got no idea why, but he's not just something to be used for sex, he's a person. And that's horrible to act like what he went through was nothing. He lost his daughter to CANCER and then he had a divorce. Who wouldn’t be effected by that? I see everyday how it hurts him.

“But if he’s going to be with anyone it’s me. Because we make sense. Just wanted to give you a heads up.” She says swiping her right eye one last time before throwing the mascara in her purse. “He’s definitely not going to want a relationship with someone half his age with no experience. And he always comes back to me.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Your jaw is clenched together, holding yourself back from throwing down with a coworker. But oh how she deserves it.

“Good.” Sandra winks. “Bye sugar.”

*Present Time*

You flash out of the memory before grabbing a pen from one the cups on your desk so you can pretend to be writing something when in reality you're shamelessly eavesdropping on them and  trying not to notice how Sandra is dragging her claw-like hand across the front of his chest.

"Hey Sandra." Hopper tips his hat with his free hand. You can hear the smile in his voice.

"I was hoping that tonight maybe you could come over? We just had such a nice time the other night and I was thinking that we should do that more often." You don't miss Sandra glance over at you when she says it.

You suddenly wonder how accurately you can throw the pen.

"Uh well." He chuckles.

"You didn't have a good time? Well it sounded like you were having a good time." She presses again, this time sending a flirty smile at him.

I'm going to throw up.

Honestly you had thought about being with Hopper once-well- more than once, but it wasn't just to reduce him to sex. It was because you loved him and you wanted him to just-. You watch the way he looks at Sandra, smiling down at her. You wanted him to look at you the way he looks at her.

He hesitates. "I did."

Hopper glances over Sandra's head at you, catching your gaze, but you immediately drop your eyes, blushing at getting caught. A sickening feeling fills your chest imagining them together, thinking of how he makes her feel, how she makes him feel.

Maybe he really likes her and he's just afraid to tell her or is afraid of the commitment. You consider sadly. I need to just get over this, move on. It’s only going to make working here harder. Plus he’s my boss. Might as well set boundaries… You think about the other day when he took care of you, held you close to his chest so tightly it didn't seem like he was just being friendly. He made me soup, tucked me into bed, carried me to my bed. How can he go from that to barely looking at me? Hot to cold so quickly that I feel like I'm covered in frostbite and sunburnt at the same time?

"Good. I'm free at 6 and I stay up late. Bring some more of that wine, you know how it makes me do crazy things." She winks, before kissing Hopper on the cheek and sauntering away, but not before glancing at you one more time with a smirk.

And there's the answer. He'd rather spend time with her.

You see her pouting her lips in the mirror again, making you feel inferior with just a look. Maybe that's why he doesn't like me, because I'm too young? Inexperienced? It's not like I'm a child. It wouldn't be that weird to date me would it?

You watch him turn and walk back to his office avoiding eye contact with you the whole way, making something tug at your heart as he does. Will today be the last day he drives me to work? All because I said that I thought it was cute that he was grumpy? Maybe this is because he's worried I have feelings for him and he just wants to be friends, which he's right I do, but I wish that he would just tell me, not avoid me!

The next few hours trickle by in a haze while you sit at your desk and try to pretend your heart isn’t broken. Hopper passes exactly twice and both times he doesn’t acknowledge you.

Just like old times I guess. You think about the two months before he started driving you home, when you were still relatively new and he avoiding speaking to you and would give you a tight-lipped smile occasionally that never reached his eyes, for a reason he never explained. You thought it was because he hated you, but it changed when he started driving you home and you hadn't ever asked.

When it’s finally time for you to go you don’t bother to call Marcie, instead you just begin to walk the 1.23 miles home and of course as soon as you leave, it begins to rain.

Exactly 30 seconds after you leave the station you're soaked to the bone and shivering, but you refuse to go back to the department.

I can’t go back and see him again. Everyone else has probably left by now anyway and the last thing I want to do is catch him sneaking off to Sandra's.  He probably wasn't staying late at work, just needed an excuse not to take me home ever again.

Tears fall from your eyes blending with the rain that trickles down your cheeks, making your hair tangle in a wet mat at the nape of your neck, but you don't care. Within 30 minutes I'll be home curled up on the couch after a hot shower, bawling my eyes out properly while Marcie hands me a pint of ice cream from the freezer. You raise your eyes to look at the desolate sidewalk ahead. Just a little longer.

Cars pass you along the road, illuminating your body for a moment before vanishing into the darkness beyond. Each yellowed streetlight stands like a beacon, but all they do is illuminate the raindrops that swirl from the heavens and soak through your thick sweater, that you guessed smelled like a wet dog right about now.

Appropriate because I probably look like a drenched poodle.

Finally a car races past you so fast you feel the wind tear across your body, but instead of vanishing into the night, the car screeches to a halt in the road. The driver shuts off the vehicle, and you watch them maneuver their large figure from the car, before stomping around to the sidewalk where you are walking with your arms wrapped around yourself.

Fear trickles down your back and you think about running. Your mother had sent you countless bottles of pepper spray and despite Marcie's incessant pleas for the two of you to take the only self-defense class in Hawkins, you weren't prepared for something like this. The pepper spray she sent was still on your desk and the self-dense class never seemed to be at the right time for you both to fit it into your schedule. Right about now you wished that you made time.

You prepare to run, when finally the street light above the imposing figure catches the face of the driver beneath his hat and you realize that it's Hopper. He towers over you, glaring down from under his hat.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I TOLD YOU TO CALL MARCIE TO PICK YOU UP!" He roars dark eyes flashing in the night.

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE OUT HERE WALKING IN THE RAIN ALONE! DAMN IT (Y/N) YOU WERE JUST SICK-"

"Just leave me alone Hopper. Or better yet just get in your car and go to Sandra’s." You shout back, finding your voice.

Who did he think he was? My dad? He drives up out of nowhere, scares the crap out of me, and then he starts yelling at me for no good reason.

"Sandra?" He looks taken aback.

And then whatever shred of self-control you have crumbles.

Tears pour from your eyes like a flood as you curl further into yourself. "I don't understand why you're so mad at me. If this is about what I said in the car, I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you I just-" Another sob chokes your next words. “Please just forget it happened so we can just go back to being friends. I don't want to go back to the way things were before you started giving me a ride. I like talking to you and riding with you and I don't understand what I did to make you hate me so much in the beginning, but please-"

Hopper closes the distance between you so quickly that you don't have time to move away in surprise. His hands go around your waist lifting you up in his arms so he doesn't have to bend down to kiss you. His lips moving furiously against yours, wet from the rain but just as soft as you imagined, mustache tickling your upper lip in a maddening dance that makes you sigh into his mouth.

Your hands gently catch the sides of his face looking into his wide eyes. He's looking at you like he can't believe what he just did.

He looks afraid.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that.” He begins to lean away, hands lowering you to the ground.

You pull him against you and kiss him as deeply as you can, trying to tell him that you want this too, that you want him. "Please don't push me away again." Your words are exhaled in one breath, tears still falling from your eyes.

"I just-" Jim's eyes are wide, but he presses his forehead against yours with a sigh. "I don't want to do this to you, (y/n). I can't-"

"What are you talking about?" Your thumbs rub against his cheekbones, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your soft fingertips.

"I tried to stay away from you because you're so different than me.” He grumbles lowly. “That’s why I didn’t talk to you when you first started workin' at the department.” Hopper looks ashamed of himself, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you. "I didn't want to like you like that."

“We’re not that different.”

“We are. You're like the sun (y/n). You brighten a room just by walking in it, hell, just by saying your name.” His eyebrows furrow together and he sighs again. “And I'm just an old grump. I don't want to ruin you or make you-"

You kiss him as softly as you can and he kisses you back confirming that he really doesn't want to push you away. "Jim, you're not going to ruin me. And yes you're grumpy but I think it's cute."

"I've heard." Hopper smiles, but then he frowns when he remembers what happened earlier. "I'm so sorry about today. When you said that in the car the only thing I thought about was how it couldn’t work  and it made me think about you and Callahan. And then he was standing there with your coffee-“

“Jim, there is no me and Callahan. The only thing I want is you and me.” Your forehead leans against his. “You might see yourself as some giant grumpy grizzly bear, but you’re my giant grumpy grizzly bear.”

He snorts, but this time leans towards you to capture his lips against yours, wiping away the cold chill of the rain to set your body ablaze.

An odd look crosses his face as he remembers what you said moments ago. "Please don't be jealous of Sandra. I know she's a lot sometimes. And yes we've spent some time together in the past-" Hopper clears his throat, ashamed. "But the only reason why I kept seeing her was because I was trying to get you out of my head, because I didn't think that you would ever-"

"Jim." You whisper. "You don't have to explain anything-"

"No I do. Flo told me what she said to you in the bathroom."

"What? How did she-" Your cheeks flush, suddenly embarrassed that he had to hear any of the horrible things that Sandra said about him.

"I told Sandra to leave you alone, but I don’t think she listened to me. She's oddly possessive, but we haven't spent half as much time together as she led you to believe-"

"Jim-"

He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. "I promise that the way I feel about her is only a fraction of what I feel about you. And I know that my reputation in town is-" Hopper clears his throat again with red cheeks. "But I don't just want one night with you (y/n), I want more. I haven't wanted more for a long time and that scared me at first, but if you'll be patient with me I'd like to make this work. And I'm sorry that I made you believe that I hated you, when it's the complete opposite."

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t think so lowly of yourself. What Sandra said about you, it's not true. You're more that what she thinks, Jim. She only sees what she wants to, but I know you. You're kind, generous, strong, and you care so much for everyone that I wonder how you give so much of yourself without asking for anything in return.” You move your hands gently around to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, placing a kiss against his cheeks, nose, and mouth for each attribute listed. “I was so happy when you stayed the other day. And when you left all I wanted was for you to come back.”

“I wanted to stay longer, but I was scared that you didn’t want me there."

“I always want you with me. You have no idea how much.” You kiss him again. "I love that you drive me every day, and every morning when you come to pick me up I get excited to see you. I also find myself wanting for work to end so I can see you again."

Hopper smiles softly at you, hands tightening around your waist that sends a thrill up your spine. Everything about this feels right, more perfect than it has felt with anyone else.

"It's difficult to stay in my office, not when I know you're out there. Sometimes I can't get work done until I see you smile." He traces a finger over your lips as if trying to draw your smile across them.

"Jim-"

Hopper kisses you again. "I like it when you say my name." He whispers against your lips, pulling you even tighter against his broad chest.

"I like saying it." You whisper back.

The rain has continued to fall on both of you, by now soaking through Hopper's jacket, but neither of you feel cold.

"Come on. Lets get you home." Hopper breathes beginning to move you towards his car.

"Hmm." You sigh as he lets go to open the door. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He stands there holding the door for a minute, the rain continuing to soak into his uniform as he gazes at where you sit in the front seat.

“What?”

Hopper leans forward and kisses you again, pulling you tightly into his large chest with a groan, as you tangle your fingertips in the front of his rain-soaked clothing, before he pulls back to press his forehead against yours out of breath.

“What was that for?” You ask leaning back on your elbows across the front seat of his car.

Hopper smiles down at you with red cheeks. “I really liked the lemon square.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“As long as I’m a dork that gets to kiss you, I think it’ll be okay.”

"I'm sure we can work something out." You whisper before pulling him down for another searing kiss and allowing the world to melt away into shades of gray and the soft patter of rain against the roof of the car.

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

Thank you so much for reading!

[dee-writes-smut]

CALLING OUT YOUR NAME

FEATURING Steve Harrington x adopted!hopper!reader

CONTENT WARNING description of injuries, mentions of trauma, hurt steeb :(, angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, Steve being an asshole in high school

SUMMARY just when you thought he had forgotten you, he called out your name

AUTHORS NOTE ahhhhh! I don't know where this went but enjoy :)

You suffered a crushing defeat. Eleven, despite her best efforts, couldn’t reach Vecna in time, resulting in catastrophic consequences. Max, Lucas, Robin, Dustin, and Steve were all severely injured and ended up in the hospital. The extent of their injuries varied, but the grim reality was undeniable: you had all been defeated. During the chaos, you found yourself with Lucas, engulfed in a tumult of screaming, crying, and pleading as you cradled a weak Max in your arms. Her labored breathing shattered your heart into countless pieces.

In your desperation, you called out to any force that might listen, begging for Max's life, because it wasn’t her time to go—none of you were ready to say goodbye. After a frantic rush to the hospital, the overwhelming stress and exhaustion took their toll, causing you to faint in the hospital lobby, alarming both Lucas and Erika. Concerned for your well-being, the medical staff admitted you overnight for observation, attributing your collapse to acute stress reaction. Fortunately, you were stable and discharged the following morning, though Erika insisted on vigilantly watching over you throughout the night.

Being confined to the hospital bed initially kept you out of the loop about the full scope of the incident. Once discharged, you were quickly surrounded by your friends, eager to fill you in. Eleven, whom you had come to consider almost like a daughter ever since you helped Hopper raise her, threw herself into your arms, her tears soaking your shoulder. Mike had to gently pull her away so that Jonathan could have his turn to embrace you, his sobs muffled against your neck. You and Jonathan had shared a brief romantic chapter during high school, but had amicably parted ways when he began growing closer to Nancy. Despite the end of your romance, your bond remained strong, evolving into a deep, platonic love. Will, Mike, and Nancy joined in, their group hug was brief yet filled with immense warmth and concern.

After the emotional reunions, Eleven and Nancy guided you to sit on your bed to explain the sequence of events in detail. Eddie and Dustin had valiantly attempted to divert the bats, a move that tragically cost Eddie his life and left Dustin seriously injured. Vecna had anticipated their distraction and used it to his advantage, trapping and nearly killing Steve, Robin, and Nancy. However, Eleven managed to intervene just in time to save Max, pulling Vecna's focus away from her at a critical moment. This distraction allowed her to barely fend off Vecna, ensuring Max's survival by a narrow margin. While Eleven’s intervention bought them some time, the group had nearly executed their final plan to eradicate Vecna. But, before they could deliver the final blow, Vecna vanished, leaving behind a wide-open gateway that threatened all of Hawkins.

"Holy shit," you gasped, your mind struggling to grasp the enormity of the events they were describing. The words seemed to hang in the air, dense with gravity and horror.

"I know," Nancy replied with a heavy sigh, her voice tinged with fatigue. She gently rubbed your arm, offering a semblance of warmth in the cold aftermath of the battle.

"But how? How was he weakened? And how did you manage to escape from all that… that entanglement of roots?" you pressed, your thoughts scrambling to piece together the chaos they had endured.

"About that…" Eleven began, her voice trailing off uncertainly. She exchanged a meaningful glance with Will, who promptly exited the room. The tension thickened in his brief absence, leaving everyone in a state of anxious anticipation. Moments later, he returned, bringing with him a wave of relief in the form of Joyce and Hopper.

"Oh my god," you froze, your heart leaping into your throat as your eyes brimmed with tears. The sight of Hopper, alive and well, was overwhelming—a beacon of hope in the shadow of despair.

"Hey, cupcake," Hopper greeted you with his familiar, gruff affection, stretching his arms out wide. The old nickname, a tender relic from countless memories of your youth, acted like a spell, breaking the paralysis that had gripped you. You dashed into his embrace, burying your face in his chest, the familiar scent of his jacket enveloping you in safety.

"Pops," you sobbed, the relief of seeing him alive making your knees weak. "How? How are you here?"

"You two kids weren't the only ones who didn't give up on me," he responded, his voice rich with emotion. He glanced over at Joyce with a look of deep affection and gratitude. You smiled through your tears, your heart warming as you witnessed the palpable bond between your adopted father and Joyce. It was clear he had found a kindred spirit to share his turbulent life.

Glancing over at Joyce, you playfully wiggled your eyebrows. Throughout your time as one of Jonathan’s girlfriends, Joyce had always shown you a particular fondness, treating you more like a daughter than a mere acquaintance. This special connection meant that the two of you shared many intimate conversations and inside jokes. Joyce rolled her eyes at your antics but couldn’t suppress a knowing wink, causing a burst of laughter to escape you, lightening the heavy atmosphere.

The room momentarily filled with the sound of your laughter, a much-needed reprieve from the dire narrative. As everyone gathered closer, the comforting presence of friends and family intertwined with a renewed sense of purpose. Hopper and Joyce sat down next to you, ready to dive into the story of their unexpected return and the pivotal role it played in weakening Vecna. They began to recount their side of the ordeal, weaving a tale of resilience and unlikely alliances that had momentarily turned the tide against the dark forces at play, laying bare the depth of their struggle and the flickers of hope that persisted against all odds.

"Where is everyone else?" you wondered aloud, your voice tinged with concern as you scanned the room, searching for familiar faces.

"Dustin broke his leg, so they've got him holed up in the room to the left of you," Nancy explained, her words carrying a weight that seemed to settle heavily in the air. Despite the warmth of her smile, there was an underlying sense of burden that spoke volumes.

"And Robin… Robin broke her windpipe," Jonathan continued, his tone somber. "It was touch-and-go for a while. They had to rush her into surgery and put her on a respirator. She's in the room next to Dustin, still unconscious. The doctors are cautiously optimistic, but it's going to be a long road to recovery."

As the reality of their injuries sank in, you felt a knot form in your stomach, a mix of fear and helplessness tightening its grip on your heart. Hopper's comforting embrace offered a momentary respite, his strong presence a steady anchor in the midst of turmoil.

"Lucas is with Max in the room next to Robin," Nancy continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Max… she's in a coma. Her injuries are… severe." Her gaze flickered to Jonathan, a silent plea for support, and he responded with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. "The doctors… they're not sure if she'll wake up. It's… it's hard to say."

The heaviness of the room seemed to weigh down upon you, pressing in from all sides with an oppressive force. You struggled to find words, your mind reeling with the magnitude of what they were telling you.

"Oh! Also… uh," Mike interjected, his voice hesitant as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Also what?" you prompted, your heart racing with anticipation, a sense of foreboding creeping into the corners of your mind.

"Steve… Steve has been asking for you," Eleven chimed in, her innocence a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. She had joined your makeshift family after 'the Steve incident,' unaware of the painful memories it dredged up for you. The mention of it sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of wounds that had never fully healed.

"Why? What does he want?" you asked, your irritation bubbling to the surface. The audacity of Steve to seek you out in the midst of such chaos left you reeling, a surge of anger rising within you.

"He won't say, kid," Hopper interjected, his voice low and gruff. He remembered 'the Steve incident' all too well, the scars it had left behind still raw and tender. "But if you want him out of your hair, I'll handle it."

"Wait, Hop. She needs to, it's been long enough since-" Joyce began, her voice filled with concern and a hint of motherly affection.

The tension in the room thickened as Joyce and Hopper engaged in a silent battle of wills, each one advocating for a different course of action.

"No," Hopper cut her off sharply, his expression resolute as he shook his head.

"Pops," you interjected, breaking the tension with a warm smile as you wrapped your arms around him. "I'm an adult now. I got this." Despite the façade of confidence you projected, a knot of dread coiled in the pit of your stomach at the prospect of facing Steve once again.

"Whatever you say, kid, but I don't know if I trust his intentions after the-" Hopper's words trailed off, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Please don't finish that sentence," you pleaded, a grimace tugging at the corners of your mouth. Hopper heaved a weary sigh, his resolve wavering in the face of your insistence. He leaned down to press a fatherly kiss to your forehead before reluctantly releasing you.

You smiled up at him, a surge of joy flooding your heart at the sight of him alive and well before you. "I've got this, pops. I'm your daughter, and if you can come back from the dead, I can take care of a kid I used to be friends with," you reassured him, though the words felt more like a mantra to bolster your own courage than a genuine assurance to him.

After bidding a reluctant farewell to your father, you followed Joyce out of the room and toward the door at the far end of the hall, adjacent to Max's. Joyce filled you in on Steve's condition as you walked, her voice tinged with a mixture of concern and confusion.

"He's in here with a few broken ribs, chunks of skin missing, dehydration, and a concussion," she explained, her words painting a grim picture of Steve's injuries. "When he came to, he immediately asked how everyone was doing. After we told him you had fainted, he was adamant on leaving to go see you. Jonathan and Hopper had to step in to hold him down."

As Joyce's words washed over you, a wave of confusion washed over you. You hadn't exchanged so much as a word with Steve since he broke your heart all those years ago. His sudden desire to speak with you now left you feeling disoriented and apprehensive.

"Thanks," you managed a strained smile, attempting to steady your nerves with a deep, centering breath before stepping through the doorway. The room felt stifling, the weight of Steve's presence suffocating as you prepared yourself for the confrontation ahead.

Steve's voice cut through the air, calling out your name, drawing you further into the room. His relief was palpable, evident in the way his tense shoulders sagged as he sank onto the bed. "Oh, thank god. Are you alright?"

His words grated against your raw emotions, reigniting the seething anger that simmered just beneath the surface. "Why do you care?" you snapped, your arms crossing defensively over your chest as you glared daggers at him, the venom in your tone thick and acrid.

"Listen," he began, his voice tinged with desperation, his face drained of color as he braced himself for your response. "I messed up, okay?"

"Messed up?" you scoffed, your scowl darkening into a murderous glare. "I don't think spreading rumors around high school about me being 'a whore who puts out for anyone' qualifies as a mistake. That sounds pretty damn intentional to me," you growled, your voice dripping with contempt as you confronted him head-on. Steve recoiled at the ferocity of your words, his features contorting with guilt and shame under your piercing gaze. "Seriously, how dare you have the audacity to ask for me, to care about me, after the stunt you pulled. You used to be my best friend, the person I trusted most in the world, and you knew damn well I was a virgin!"

"I know! I fucked up, and I am so, so sorry," Steve pleaded, his voice thick with remorse as he struggled to find the right words to express the depth of his regret.

"No! You don't get to apologize. Not anymore. Not after you ripped my heart out," you spat, your anger boiling over as you unleashed years of pent-up frustration and hurt. "You know what? I can't do this. I hope you have a shit life, Steve," you seethed, your voice trembling with emotion as you turned on your heel and stormed toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape, for relief from the crushing weight of betrayal that threatened to consume you whole.

"I was scared!" Steve's voice echoed through the room, halting you in your tracks. "I was scared," he repeated softly, his vulnerability breaking through the barrier of anger that surrounded you. You stayed quiet, guarded, but turned back around to see that he had gotten out of bed and was right behind you. Too close. You took a step back, instinctively creating space between you, as he continued to speak.

"I loved you so much that I thought I was going to die," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "You were gorgeous and everything that I ever dreamed of, but things with my parents were starting to get really bad. It went from casually throwing comments my way to yelling and throwing things and threats of kicking me out, and I just…" he trailed off, his breath hitching as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. Finally, he mustered the courage to meet your gaze. "I couldn't put you through that, not after you had lost your mom and little sister."

"That doesn't excuse the rumor spreading, you dick," you retorted, your voice quieter now, the malice drained from your words. Steve reached over, his hands grazing your arms, but you quickly recoiled, pulling away from his touch. The physical contact felt like an intrusion, a violation of the boundaries you had erected to protect yourself from further pain.

"Please," Steve pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "I almost died. You almost—" he sighed heavily, running a hand through his tousled hair in frustration. "When I was stuck in those things, fighting for air, the only thing that came to my mind was you. It was you, baby. I was about to die, and all I could think about was how I lost someone so special, someone I wanted—no, someone I want to spend the rest of my life with. And me being scared is a stupid excuse. I should have never done that to you, but I can't take it back. The only thing I can do is ask for a second chance."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and vulnerability, as he bared his heart to you, laying his emotions bare in the hope of redemption. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat. "I love you, and I just want to take you out on a date. Just one, and then you can decide for yourself whether or not you ever want to see me again. If you don't, then I'll leave you alone. But… but if you do, then I think we could really be something special together, and I swear to try my best to fight for us."

The room fell into a cold, tense silence, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air as you grappled with your emotions. You were hesitant, scared of letting him back in after what he had done, but his words struck a chord within you. It could have been the end for both of you, it still could be at any moment. So why not seize the time you have left? If you got hurt, you got hurt, but at least you could say that you tried. Right?

As you stood there, grappling with your thoughts, Steve's hopeful gaze bore into yours, his heart laid bare before you, awaiting your decision with bated breath. The air crackled with tension, uncertainty hanging thick between you, as you contemplated whether to open your heart to him once more, or to shut him out for good.

"Okay," you breathed, the word hanging in the air like a fragile promise, waiting to see if he would shatter it with a cruel twist of fate. But he didn't. Instead, he took a step forward, his hand finding its way to your waist as he pulled you close, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. He stopped just before kissing you, a silent plea in his eyes as he waited for your permission.

You found yourself lost in his deep brown eyes, the same eyes that had witnessed your tears, your pain, and your heartache. But this time, as you stared into them, you saw something different—sincerity, vulnerability, and a flicker of hope reflected in the small golden flecks. It was in that moment that you knew. He wasn't going down without a fight.

With a silent nod, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a heated kiss that sent sparks flying. It was a kiss filled with passion, longing, and a silent promise of what could be. When you finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless and wanting, the electricity lingering in the air like a tangible force.

"Just don't go and fuck it up this time, okay?" you murmured, your voice tinged with a mixture of caution and longing, your heart laid bare before him.

"Okay," Steve replied, his smile tender and genuine as he pulled you back in for another kiss, sealing the unspoken pact between you with a promise of redemption and a chance at love renewed.

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twenty-One: The Sauna Test

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 3,001 Warnings: fluff, lil' angst, falling elevators, almost confessions?? 👀 Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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When I woke up the next morning, I made a quiet groaning noise as I stretched my limbs. After I put my arms back down, I felt paper, so I picked it up and read it.

Olivia,

      I didn’t want to wake you. I’m downstairs in the kitchen. Come find me.

Steve ♥️

Ever since I told him he was being all domestic last night, it seemed to me that he wanted to keep that up. I mean, I was practically living with him. So, as I got up to make my way down the hall and to the stairs, I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

Looking at Steve as I walked into the kitchen, the smile was still on my face. Something about Steve drinking from a coffee mug just made me… fall for him even more. The way this man is just casually being… him makes me wanna kiss him stupid.

“Hey, there, lover,” I said, softly, wrapping my arms around his middle from behind.

“Morning, baby,” he said. I could hear the smile on his lips.

“Whatcha doing?” 

“Reading the paper and drinking–”

“Coffee?” I asked, perking up.

Chuckling, he turned around and said, “Tea.”

I made a sad face, saying a sad “Oh.”

“Look over there,” he whispered, pointing.

Following the line of sight his fingers gave me, I saw a coffee pot with freshly made coffee inside. Looking back to him with a smile, I said, “You’re the best.”

“I know,” he smiled back, giving me a kiss to the tip of my nose.

He had already set out a cup for me to use, the sugar container sitting next to it. After I had poured some of the brown liquid into my cup with some of the sugar and some half&half, I turned to him, taking a sip. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yes,” he said. “You just told me that like 2 minutes ago.”

All I could do was smile at him as I took another sip of my coffee.

We chatted about this and that while we sipped our caffeine and ate our breakfast. I cleaned up the kitchen while we went and got ready for work. When he came back down, blue uniform on and all, I went upstairs to get changed.

Clad in my graphic tee and denim shorts, I strutted my way back into the kitchen, stopping when I heard Steve call my name. Looking in the direction I heard his voice, I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how I passed him standing at the door and not realizing it.

Shrugging, I made my way over to him, trapping his bottom lip between mine, feeling him kiss me back instantly. “Can I kiss you stupid later?”

He nodded, kissing me once more before opening the front door and leading me out to his car after he locked the door.

~~~

Once we picked Dustin up and made it to the mall, we sent Dustin up on the roof again to spy on the Russian guys that were standing guard outside while deliveries were being made. When he had enough entail, he came to Scoops’ back room, where Robin, Steve and I were sitting.

“That keycard opens the door, but unfortunately, the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun,” Dustin informed us. “Whatever’s in this room, whatever’s in those boxes, they really don’t want anybody finding it.”

While Dustin was talking, I watched as Steve swirled his Scoops hat around on his hand.

“But there’s gotta be a way in,” Robin said.

Blowing into his hat to form the top of it back out, Steve said, “Well, ya’know… I could just take him out.”

“Take who out?” Robin and I asked.

“The Russian guard.” He looked over at me, my face giving off a confused expression. “What? I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It’s easy.”

“Babe,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Need I remind you about your track record with trying to ‘take people out’?”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin asked.

“Yes, Dustin, I did,” Steve replied. “And that’s why I would be sneaking.”

“Ah,” Dustin and I said.

“Well, please, tell me this, and be honest,” Dustin continued. “Have you ever actually… won a fight?”

Looking at my brother, I said, “Did you not hear me basically ask that?”

“Okay, you two, that was one time–” Steve said.

“Nope. Twice. Jonathan kicked your ass our Junior Year. Next.”

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t it? I watched him beat the shit out of you, AND helped you out after.”

Dustin and Steve started arguing about whether or not Jonathan’s fight actually counted. I rolled my eyes, turning my head in Robin’s direction, seeing her looking up before she said something about… something might actually working before she got up and went to the cash register, Steve and I standing at the open door watching her.

“Robin,” Steve said, taking my hand and pulling me through the door, Dustin following. “Hey, Robin! Hey, what– what are you doing?” She turned to us, backing up out of the store as she said, “I need cash.”

“Well, half of that’s mine,” Steve whined. “Where you going?”

“To find us a way into that room, a safe way,” she said, voice raised. “And, in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

“Ah, dude,” Steve said. I looked over, seeing him take the ice cream scoop from Dustin. “Come on, man, not my scooper.” He twirled it on his finger like those cowboys do in the Westerns before placing the handle in his pocket.

“I hope you wash that before you use it,” I said.

~~~

Robin came back from her little errand a little while later with a paper in her hand, walking into the back room. “It is fascinating what 20 bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s office.”

“Care to elaborate?” I said.

Placing the gigantic sheet of paper on the table, which turned out to be the mall’s blueprints, Robin said, “Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints.”

“Holy shit,” I breathed, looking down at the sheet.

“Not bad,” Dustin said.

I leaned down a little to look at the prints, seeing Steve doing the same from the corner of my eye, his hand on my back as Robin said, “This is us, Scoops, and this is where we want to get,” while pointing to the points on the blueprints.

“I mean, I don’t really see a way in,” Steve said.

“There’s not, if you’re talking exclusively about doors,” Robin said, flipping the page on the blueprint.

“Air ducts,” Dustin and I said.

“Exactly.”

I looked up, watching as she walked to the board to grab a marker before coming back to the table, continuing her words, “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room. And these air ducts–” She marked where she needed to, making a circle then a line following the air ducts to another part of the blueprints, making another circle on Scoops. “Lead all the way… here.”

I looked up at the vent, trying to get ideas on who we can send up there. “We need to look inside to see how big it is to send someone in there, but unfortunately… it’s screwed into the wall.” Movement from the corner of my eye had me looking in that direction.

“Well, who’s small enough?” Robin asked.

Dustin and I looked at each other, our eyes saying the same thing before we spoke our thoughts, “Send one of us.”

Steve moved to where they kept all their hardware before getting a ladder to stand on, unscrewing the screws from the wall and pulling the vent off, handing it to me down below. Through the screwdriver in between his teeth, he said, “Flashlight.”

I took the vent from his hands, giving him the flashlight as he took the screwdriver from between his teeth as he took the flashlight from my hand, saying, “Thanks, baby.” Shining the light down the metal air duct for a moment before saying, “Yeah, I don’t know, man. I don’t know if either of you can fit in here. It’s, like… super tight.”

“Get down,” I said, tapping the back of his thigh. “Let me try.”

He jumped off the ladder before letting me climb. I tried sticking my body through, not going past the middle of my arms. I pulled out of the duct, shaking my head before jumping down. “I can’t get through.”

Looking at Dustin, he said, “I’ll fit. Trust me. No collarbones, remember?” He moved to the ladder, climbing it before putting his head and shoulders in… getting stuck at his hips. 

“Uh, excuse me?” Robin said. 

“He’s got cleidocranial dysplasia,” I said. “Basically, he’s missing some of his bones and shit.”

“He can bend like Gumbo,” Steve said.

“You mean Gumby?” Robin corrected him… or tried to as Steve looked from me back to her while he said, “Pretty sure it’s Gumbo.”

“Steve, just shut up and push me!” Dustin said.

“Okay.” Steve moved to the ladder, grabbing Dustin’s feet and pushing, while saying, “I’ll push ya.”

“Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass.”

“What?”

“Touch my butt! I don’t care!”

“Oh, sweet shit,” I muttered, covering my mouth with my hand as Steve climbed the ladder a couple steps, pushing on my brother’s ass. I tried to contain the laughter that wanted to escape, but it came out in a chuckle.

“Come on! Harder!”

“I’m pushing!” Steve said.

“Push harder!” Dustin screamed.

I looked at Robin and started laughing as Steve and Dustin argued.

“You’re playing with my legs!”

“I’m not playing, I have terrible footing,” Steve said.

“Come on!”

“I’m just gonna shove you, ready?”

“Just shove me?”

“One, two…” Steve shoved Dustin, trying to get him into the duct more, my little brother saying, “Shit!”

“That work?” my boyfriend asked.

“One more time.”

The bell ringing had Robin and I turning our heads, my laughter dying down at seeing Erica at the front counter, saying, “Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck! Get over here and serve me some samples.”

Robin and I looked at each other, sharing the same idea.

I looked back at Erica and said, “Hey, Sinclair! Wanna earn a couple bucks?”

~~~

After I convinced Erica to look into the air duct, she came into the back room and did just that as Steve, Dustin, Robin and myself leaned against the counter by the window. She stepped off the ladder, turning to face us and said, “Yeah, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you can fit?” I asked.

“Oh, I can fit,” she said. “I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin asked.

Erica scoffed, saying, “I don’t have phobias.”

It was my turn to scoff before I turned to Dustin and muttered, “Wish I didn’t.”

“Okay, well, what’s the problem?” Steve asked.

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica,” she said.

Sighing, I stepped forward, pulling out some cash. Giving her two dollars, I said, “Here’s your pay for looking.” I leaned in a little closer to her, talking quietly so only the two of us could hear. “I’ll even convince these two sailors to give you some ice cream while you think it over.”

She looked at me for a moment, smirking a little before reaching out her hand. “Deal.”

I turned to the other three standing behind me, smiling a little. “Get her all the samples she wants, in or on what she wants.”

“Babe–” Steve started.

Holding up the rest of the cash I had on me, I said, “I’ll pay for it.”

“That’s for lunch!” Dustin whined.

“Got any better ideas?”

At his nonanswer, I walked through the doors to sit at a booth, watching as Erica put in her orders before sitting down next to me, Dustin following suit before Steve and Robin made their way to the booth as well, placing the ice creams down on the table before sitting.

Steve pushed a banana split to Erica, the young girl pushing it back, asking for more fudge. He gave me a sour look, one I knew all too well; he was upset with me, but wouldn’t be for long.

After Steve had gotten up with Erica’s banana split, Robin pulled out the folded blueprints of the air ducts, holding it up, saying, “Alright. You see this?” She pointed to the line she had drawn. “This is the route you’re gonna take.” She flipped the prints, revealing the other side of the line. “Then we just wait until the last delivery goes out tonight.”

“Then you knock out the grate, jump down and open the door,” I added.

“Then you find out what’s in those boxes?” Erica asked.

“Exactly,” Robin answered.

“Mm-hmmm. And you say this guard is armed.”

“Yes, but he won’t be there,” Dustin said.

“And booby traps?”

“Booby traps?” Robin and I asked.

“Lasers, spikes in the wall?” Erica said.

“What?” 

Putting her hand on my arm, Erica said, “You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child endangerment.”

“See, no–” I said.

“We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” Robin said.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica exclaimed. “Child. Endangerment.”

Sighing, Dustin said Erica’s name, the girl looking at him before he continued, “Hi. Uhh, we think these Russians wanna do harm to our country. Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

“Oh, my god,” I whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

“You can’t spell America without Erica,” she said.

Looking back down at her, then at my brother, he and I both said, “Oddly, that’s totally true.”

“So, so, don’t do it for us,” I said, while Erica slurped on her milkshake. “Do it for your country, for your fellow man. Do it for America, Erica.”

She shivered next to me, before smiling while saying, “Oh! I just got the chills.”

I smiled, sitting up a little straighter while looking at Robin and Dustin.

“From this float,” Erica added, my confidence shattering. “Know what I love most about this country? Capitalism. Do you know what capitalism is?”

Dustin and Robin said they did while I looked confused. 

“It means this is a free market system,” she continued. “Which means people get paid for their services, depending on how valuable their contributions are. And it seems to me, my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many.”

“Free ice cream?” I asked.

“For. Life,” she enunciated.

~~~

“I cannot believe I’m back on this stupid roof,” I complained, leaning in between Robin and Steve.

“You’ll be fine,” Dustin said.

I looked at him, his binoculars held up to his eyes. 

“It’s all quiet here,” Robin said into the walkie talkie. “So, you’ve got the green light.”

“Green light, roger that,” Erica said, her voice coming through the walkie’s speaker. “Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”

“Are we really gonna call it that?” I asked after Robin hit the button to talk.

“See you on the other side. Nerds.”

I sighed and backed up a little from the group. Since I turned and had my back facing them, I didn’t register someone coming up behind me, hands being placed on my arms. Immediately feeling safe, I leaned back into Steve’s arms, his own wrapping around me as I sighed again. “When can we live normal lives again? Demogorgons, Mind Flayers and Demodogs, and now Russians?”

“I know, baby,” he whispered, his lips pressing to the side of my head. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I turned in his hold, looking into his eyes while putting my arms around his middle. “Really?”

Smiling, he pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear, cupping my cheek before he said, “I’ll kiss you stupid.”

I smiled a little, leaning up to kiss him; a long, sweet kiss. 

The crackling of the walkie brought me back down to reality, Erica’s voice coming through as Steve and I made our way back to the ledge. “Alright, nerds. I’m there.”

“D-do you see anything?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.”

“Any guards?” I asked.

“Negative.”

“Booby traps?”

“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

“Thank you for that?” Robin answered.

I heard bangs coming from the other side of the door before Erica said, “I’m in.”

“Oh, god,” Steve breathed, right before the doors opened and Erica walked out.

“Free ice cream for life,” she said.

Dustin, Robin, Steve and I got down off the roof, making our way over to Erica and the boxes, where Steve used a knife or a boxcutter to open an Imperial Panda box… another box of some sort sitting inside.

He grabbed the handle on it, turning it, causing air to hiss out of it before lifting the lid, revealing four more handles.

“Oh, sweet shit,” I breathed.

“That’s definitely not Chinese food,” Steve said. He put the lid down, placing his hand back in the cardboard box on one of the metal handles. He looked at us all before putting both hands up and saying, “Uh, maybe you guys should, ya’know, stand back.”

Robin and Erica did as Steve asked, but Dustin and I did not.

“No,” my brother and I said.

Putting his arm across my stomach to reach Dustin, Steve said, “Just step back, okay?”

Pushing his arm down, I said, “No.”

“Baby, seriously.”

“No! You’re my boyfriend, I lo–” I stopped my words, taking in a deep breath. I placed my hand on his cheek, saying, “We’re in this together. If you die, I die.”

He sighed, knowing my determination. “Okay.” Putting his hand back on the handle, he twisted it before lifting it out of the slot it was in, revealing green… something. I’m not sure what it was. Goo? Slime? I… I didn’t know.

“What the hell?” Steve muttered.

“What is that?” Robin asked.

An answer came in the form of the room rumbling before it moved a little. I instantly put my hand on Steve’s arm, grabbing for Dustin’s hand or wrist with my other.

“Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin asked.

I looked at Erica as she whispered, “Booby traps.”

The room rumbled again, sending Robin into motion, grabbing for the green substance. “Ya’know what? Let’s just grab that and go.”

Steve put the lid back on the metal… container thing as Dustin went to the control panel, hitting a button… about four or five times.

“Which one do I press, Erica?” he asked.

“Just press the damn button, nerd,” she said.

“Which one?” I asked.

“I’m pressing the button, okay?” Dustin added.

“Press open door,” Erica said.

“I’m pressing open door.”

Steve moved past me saying, “Just open the– press the other button.”

Anxiety was filling me at the arguments going on, an overwhelming feeling washing over me. I was brought back to reality when I heard Robin say, “Just open the door!” before a loud clanging noise sounded.

I watched as what seemed like a wall came down, slamming shut and trapping us in this room filled with boxes with unknown substances. Then the room just… fell with all five of us in it.

I was screaming, Robin and Erica were screaming, I’m sure Dustin was screaming. Feeling arms around me, I heard Steve’s voice in my ear say, “Oh, shit,” as lights were flashing by as we made our very fast descent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Posted on March 18, 2024

[maithefluffychicken]

Censored version for tumblr but! You can see the whole commission for @whataboutthefish and her amazingly hot omegaverse Stopper fic here

You can read the fic on Ao3!!! Give it all the love!

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas - Day 3

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): it’s cliche it’s trash i don’t care oh no the heating in our apartment is broken guess we’d better cuddle

Word Count: 2.8K

Story Description: It's cold and the radiator in the cabin doesn't work. Will (Y/N)'s plans for the night be ruined?

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a whiff of smut, bad language

A/N: i'm gonna be honest, i have not watched the last season of stranger things, so I'm still in the season 3 mentality. this fic will be set in December after everything that went down on that season (obvs Jim isn't a prisoner and the Byers and El don't move to California)💖 and whoops, I'm late, but there's a bonus coming in a bit 😉

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That's One Way to Get Warm

Hawkins, Indiana got cold. Far too cold for comfort and your heating system not working would be a devastation like no other. The very dilemma (Y/N) was facing at that very moment.

But her day didn’t start that way.

It had actually started quite normal – as normal as it could be with a kid that has biokinetic powers.

They had all had a hell of a year. The Russian infiltration in Hawkins; fighting the Mindslayer; closing the door to the Upside Down; almost losing Jim; Mike and El becoming an item, then not, then yes once more.  

The last two had been the hardest for (Y/N). She had been taking care of Eleven alongside Hopper since he’d taken her in during winter the year before. By that time Hopper and she had just been friends – close friends, but nothing more. He had trusted her with the secret that the girl was out of the upside down and she offered to help him take care of El.

During that time they grew closer than they thought they could. (Y/N) was younger than Hopper and they knew the town would talk – small towns always talk. But they couldn’t help what they felt. And when El went missing they only had each other to lean on. So, that’s what they did.

It didn’t take long for them to finally admit their feelings for one another. Soon thereafter El reappeared in Hawkins. And after defeating more otherworldly creatures, the three of them became a family. And, at least on paper, Jane Hopper was theirs.

The three of them learned something new day by day. (Y/N) learned how to be a mother, El learned how to live and function in society, and Jim Hopper learned patience. So. Much. Patience. In the blink of an eye, he had gone from a lone wolf bachelor to living with his girlfriend and his adopted child. And even though he would not have traded his present life for anything, it took him some time to get used to it – old habits die hard.

Yet they all found their rhythm as a family. It wasn’t long until they felt like a unit. And when their summer from hell came to an end, they were grateful they had each other to fall back onto. It brought them closer than they ever thought possible.

As the months passed, they started having ‘normal’ family problems. Who left an almost empty jug of milk in the fridge; Hopper forgetting special dates; Eggo waffles being finished far too fast; El going out with friends on a school night; El going out with Mike.

The latter was the hardest for Jim and (Y/N). El was growing quickly before their eyes. Although they were not her birth parents, they had been by her side through milestones no other parent would understand. And she was their daughter.

“Okay, honey. You’ve got your gift?” (Y/N) asked El as she was preparing to leave her in Mike’s house for the party’s little Christmas party.

“Yes,” El smiled.

“And Mrs. Wheeler is gonna take you home at nine o’clock, correct?” 

“Yes, (Y/N/N),” she chuckled at her surrogate mother’s persistence. “Can I go now?” 

“Yes, honey,” (Y/N) smiled and hugged her from the driver’s side of the car. “Have fun. I love you!”

“Love you too! Bye!” El called out as she ran from the car to the front door, trying her best to avoid the snowy weather.

As soon as the girl was inside the house, (Y/N) felt confident enough to drive back home. When she got to the cabin, the sun had completely gone. The trail to the cabin had started to get filled with snow and the windows had started to get frosted.

The thing (Y/N) loved the most about the cold was being able to warm up comfortably. Sometimes it was with a warm and thick blanket, other times with a nice fire, and there were other times when she warmed up by partaking in… physical activities. But the radiator was always on.

It was a small cabin, so it didn’t take much to warm up the space. Still, there was nothing better than the radiator. The little machine was a godsend during Indiana winters. Those were simply unforgivable.

(Y/N) wrapped her jacket close to her body as she walked from the warm car to the porch. Snowflakes landed on her hair, melting quickly after contact, dampening her hair a little. As her hands shook, she dug through her bag for the house keys. She could already hear Hop telling her to keep the car keys and the house keys together so she didn’t have to fumble for them.

“But if I lost my car keys, I would lose the home keys as well,” (Y/N) repeats the story herself the same answer she always gave him. This time she was regretting it. “Screw you, Hop.”

Seconds after, she finally fished out the silver keys.

She entered the cabin promptly after, hanging her coat onto the hook and shaking off the snow that had dropped on her. Without thinking much of it, (Y/N) made a beeline for the radiator. The house had become freezing inside in the few minutes she had gone to leave El at the Wheeler’s house. And she wanted Hopper and El to come home to a warm and cozy house.

(Y/N) was a woman with a plan. She would turn on the radiator, put some cookies in to bake, set the fireplace, and wait for her family to come home. It was a nice and perfect plan. Until the radiator didn’t switch on. She turned the valve to the utter end and nothing happened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?!” (Y/N) yelled out. She had no idea how to fix anything, it was too late to call someone to repair it, and she wanted — needed — heat. So, she called the next best thing. “Hey, Flo. Is Hopper by chance still there?”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N/N),” she chirped. “I’m afraid he already left.”

“Shoot. How long ago?”

“About fifteen minutes already, I think. Is everything okay?”

“Is there a chance you know how to fix a radiator, Flo? Ours is shot.”

“Oh, honey, I can barely work a phone as it is,” she joked. “But I’m sure Hop will be there soon enough.”

“I just hope he doesn’t break it further,” (Y/N) laughed. “You know how he gets.”

“Well, then, start a fire by now cause God knows that man knows how to break things more than he knows how to fix them.” Flo’s laughter rang through the phone, and she couldn’t help but join in. “I’ll tell Randy to go check up on it tomorrow.”

“Alright, Flo, thanks. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you as well, honey.”

As she hung up the receiver, all (Y/N) could do was let out a yell of frustration. Hopper would be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, which meant ten to fifteen of freezing temperatures. So, she took Flo’s advice and started building a fire in the fireplace. Everything she touched was cold, frozen by the weather outside.

Putting on a jacket and finally getting the fire lit, she tried to do what she had planned. But she could feel the cold seeping into her bones, begging her to sit on the couch in front of the fire. Still, she fought through it and was able to put the cookies in the oven, to at least do one of the things she had planned for.

As she was closing the oven, the front door swung open, and Jim stepped through with a smile on his face. Until he noticed it was as cold inside as it was outside.

“Uh, baby, why isn’t the radiator on?” Hopper asked. “It’s freezing in here.”

“Well, your trusty radiator is broken so we’re stuck with just the fireplace,” she responded. “I was thinking we could put some comforters on the floor, some pillows, and we could all hang out in front of the fireplace tonight. Until we can call someone to repair it tomorrow.”

“Why would we call anyone? I can fix it.”

(Y/N) bit her tongue, not wanting to say anything that could offend him. She knew it would end badly, but she would thoroughly enjoy the journey. She knew her boyfriend would become frustrated with the radiator and eventually break some part of it, which would they then end up replacing the whole thing. She just liked to see him fight with inanimate objects.

He fetched the tool bag from outside, plopping himself in front of the machine. Hopper started by twisting the valve, testing in fact that it wouldn’t turn on. Then, he started twisting bolts that did not need to be tightened. After, he resorted to hitting the pipe that connected the radiator to the valve.

“Um, Hop, I don’t think that’s gonna do anything,” (Y/N) finally chimed in. “We can just call someone tomorrow.”

“You don’t think I can do it?” Hopper grumbled. “We don’t have to spend money paying someone else when I know I can fix it. Just give me a sec.”

(Y/N) could see his eyebrows furrowing, annoyance growing inside him. Nothing he did seemed to work, not even shaking the old machine. Out of frustration, he kept hitting the pipes harder and harder until one of them broke.

“FU-UCK!” Hopper yelled out as he slammed the tools to the floor.

“Hop,” (Y/N) called out lovingly from the couch. “Come here.”

“I can’t fucking believe this. This old piece of sh…”

“Baby, come here.”

Finally, the man looked up, any anger he had quickly dissipated when he gazed at her. Hopper got up from the floor, defeatedly walking toward her. He sat next to her, his head in his hands.

“I’ll call up Randy tomorrow morning to see if there’s any point to repair it,” he sighed. “I should’ve just listened to you and left it alone.”

“It’s fine, Flo already called him,” she chuckled. “I love you, Hop, but you’re not good at fixing stuff like this.”

“So, you had no faith in me?”

“Not precisely,” she grinned. “You’re good at so many things, but not this.”

Hopper faked being angry — he did feel a bit offended that his girlfriend didn’t believe in him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a scowl plastered on his face. He avoided her gaze, knowing he would break the moment he looked into her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Hop. You don’t need to act offended.” (Y/N) bit back her laughter, not wanting to anger him further. She knew exactly how to change his mood quickly. She moved until she was sat next to him, running her fingers across his arms.  “Look on the bright side. We can cuddle on the couch until El gets home.”

It didn’t take much for a mischievous grin to appear on Hopper’s face. Especially when (Y/N) planted a kiss on his lips. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her over him until she was straddling his lap. She let out a gleeful shriek and circled her arms around his neck, lowering her head to meet his lips once again.

“I have an idea on how we can heat up without the radiator,” he grinned. “Might make up for the fact that I broke it.”

“Very funny, baby,” she purred as his beard tickled her neck. He left a trail of kisses from her jaw down to her neck, biting slightly. Just enough to not leave a mark. “But El’s gonna be home soon, and I don’t wanna traumatize her just yet with that kind of thing.”

“But she won’t be here for another…” he looked at his watch. “Another twenty minutes. We can definitely have some fun until then."

“Don’t start something we can’t finish, baby,” she whined against him. (Y/N) was getting warmer. Partly because of the fireplace, but mostly from Hopper. She could feel her want growing – she could also feel him growing, – but she knew they couldn’t go on. Thankfully, the oven beeped. “We should seriously stop, Hop. Either way, I need to get the cookies out of the oven.”

“Oh you’re such a tease,” he groaned as she got off him. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“I don’t know. Think of something else,” she laughed. “Now, help me get the comforters and the pillows out to the living room.”

As (Y/N) placed the cookies on a rack to cool, Hopper started moving the furniture to make space for the bed cover and pillows. He brought out as many blankets as he could and placed them all on the floor, creating two makeshift beds on the floor.

“You know, I was thinking,” Hopper called out.

“That’s never good,” she chuckled.

“Normally, no,” he joined in the laughter. “But I’ve been thinking it’s time we start upsizing.”

“Upsizing? What are you talking about, baby?”

“You know, expanding.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Hop?”

He joined her in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her toward him. He looked down intently into her eyes. “What do you think I’m saying?”

“Bigger house.” He nodded and kissed her temple. “Bigger… family?” He nodded again, kissing her cheek. “Finally a ring on my finger?” 

And he smiled brightly as he nodded, kissing her lips passionately. “I’d say it’s about time.” 

“That is the greatest gift ever, Hop.”

“I wanna talk it over with El first, though. Make sure she’s part of this transition.”

Before she could answer, a honk beeped from outside.

“We can ask her now,” (Y/N) smiled. “She’s here.”

She kissed his cheek and exited the cabin. Outside, Mrs. Wheeler smiled at the woman, waving her hand from the car as Eleven exited the car. The girl said goodbye to the woman and skipped over to (Y/N)’s side where they watched as Mike’s mother drove away.

“Did you have fun, honey?” (Y/N) asked her as they walked inside.

“Yes. Max gave me an Eggo ornament,” she smiled. “Can it go on the tree?”

“Absolutely!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Hopper called out. “How was it today?”

“Fun,” she responded. “I have a waffle ornament. Goes on the tree.”

“Well that’s fun,” he replied, unsure of what to say.

As she placed the lacquered ornament onto the tree, she commented, “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, well, the radiator is kind of broken,” (Y/N) replied. “But I was thinking since the heat is out, we could sleep in front of the fireplace tonight. Before we can eat cookies, snuggle up on the sofa, and watch a Christmas movie. Make a whole thing out of it.”

“Sounds fun,” she responded. “Where do I put ornament?”

“Anywhere you want, honey.”

El levitated the ornament, placing it on the highest point, making sure no one would miss it. A smile spread onto her face, proud of her gift and her work. After, she went into her room to change into her pajamas and later helped (Y/N) plate the cookies while Hopper changed out of his uniform.

A couple of minutes later, the three of them were under thick blankets watching Miracle on 34th Street. Half of the cookies were done and three glasses of milk at different fill heights. And as the movie finished, and they were all slightly crying, Hopper spoke up.

“Hey, kiddo, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about something,” he started and only continued when she gave him all her attention. "(Y/N) and I were thinking that it was time for us to start expanding. Buy a bigger house, get married, maybe have a baby. What do you think about that?”

“With me?” El asked worriedly.

“Absolutely, honey,” (Y/N) answered quickly. “We would never think of a future without you. El, you are our daughter now and forever. Don’t ever doubt that.”

(Y/N) took the girl into her arms and gave her a tight hug, one Hopper joined after, his big arms surrounding them both. Tears were streaming from (Y/N)’s eyes and she wasn’t sure if it was from the movie or what El had asked.

“I would like it,” she said after. “Big house, a brother or sister. Big, happy family.”

Once they were all settled on their respective makeshift beds on the floor and El was deeply asleep, Hopper placed a soft kiss on (Y/N)’s lips. On his face, a huge smile danced, his eyes full of love.

“What was that for?” (Y/N) chuckled tiredly.

“For everything,” he sighed contentedly. “For our future, for helping me with El even if you didn’t have to, for putting up with me, for giving me a chance, for…”

(Y/N) gave him another kiss to stop his rambling. “I wouldn’t change this for the world, Hop. You, El, and whatever comes next, that’s my forever,” she smiled. “And take tomorrow off. El is gonna be gone for the whole day.”

With a grin on his face, he responded, “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Taglist: @honeylovemoon @supernaturalwriter @beckiej0073-blog @skyesthebomb @krazyk99 @klf1999 @ilikepunsbeth @magimtz23 @sl-ut @adaydreamaway08 @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @toomanythoughts33

[space-cowboys-and-aliens]

Read My Mind

Jim Hopper x GN!reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: calm fluff, unwinding after a long day, wholesome vibes, no use of Y/N

Note: I do not condone nor support romantic, sexual, or in any way inappropriate relationships between adults and minors. This fic does not contain explicit material; however, if you are 18 and under please read and/or engage at your own discretion.

Summary: Hopper comes home late to you in his bed wearing an old shirt of his.

Word Count: about 300

He shrugs off his blazer as he walks through the front door and lets it shut behind him.

As he makes his way through the eerily quiet cabin, he spots you.

He leans his broad figure against the bedroom door frame when he realizes what you are wearing.

Curled up, half-asleep on his bed. Only wearing one of his old T-shirts. His lips purse together.

“What are you doing there?” he asks amusedly.

Eyes widening, he advances. His hands find their way, grabbing your sides as a grin stretches under his mustache; joining his tousled hair and twinkling eyes, it completes his boyish look. You cannot suppress your giggles as you squirm in his grip. He rests on his side. His hands run up and down your ribcage. Breath in your voice,

“You know, I just found this laying around, thought I could use it to slip into something a little more…”

“…a little more comfortable?”, he finishes, arms linking around your waist, pulling you onto his side of the bed, laying kisses down your neck. Knowing you both have the same idea, you sigh contently. His fingers work their way up into your scalp.

“Long day?”, he murmurs as he gently massages your head using his fingertips. You moan, almost crying out when he pushes up against a particularly tender spot. He pulls your body closer until you're practically on top of him. Your smile breaks.

“Yeah. Long day?”,

you ask him.

He smirks.

“Oh, yeah.”

He looks into your eyes and wonders how deep they really go. He always thought they could never end, the way he never brings himself to come up once you pull him into your gaze.

You hum in thought.

You ponder.

Then, drawing up,

“Wanna skip date night tonight? Just curl up here? Make something quick, put on a movie or two? Or three?”,

your smile stretching wider.

His matches, eyes still glowing.

“How do you read my mind so well?”,

he playfully wonders. He looks dazed, loving. He has taken to kneading the plush around your stomach, an area you used to feel so ashamed of. Shame long gone once you discovered it was always one of his favorite parts of you.

“Yeah, I just want to make my baby feel good after their long day.”

main masterlist

[mrs-steve-harrington]

Tell Me You're Mine

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Jim "Chief" Hopper

Characters: Steve Harrington, Jim "Chief" Hopper

Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 04, Future Fic, Soulbond, Dubiously Consensual Mating Bond, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Protective Jim "Chief" Hopper, POV Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington-centric

Word Count: 2,700

Summary:

The night before Steve is set to go on a mission he likely won't come back from, Hopper comes over for one last night together—or so Steve thinks.

Notes: Inspired by a tag (A Forcing Mating Bond on B to Prevent B From Taking Suicide Mission) in the Made Them Do It Flash Exchange tag set. Written for @urisarang and @stevethehousewife

[fivelakesinwriting]

Flashing Lights -JIM HOPPER {Prologue}

Author's Notes: I wrote this back in the Summer of 2019 and it's loosely based on the third season of Stranger Things - but won't be entirely canon. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo

Warnings: Strangers Things S3 spoilers for those who have not completed, Violence. Swearing. While I root for Jopper in real life, it's no longer a thing within this story.

Requested? Nope. Requests are closed for the time being!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Joyce Byers pushed the younger woman out of the way so she was able to twist the key to close the portal. The older woman yelled, "go!" with a nod towards the police Chief who was currently fighting for his life.

"Jim!" She yelled as she threw her body against the heavy industrial door to get out of the maze of staircases that lead towards the portal.

"Get out of here!" Jim Hopper yelled as he doled out a punch that sent the Russian assassin backwards.

"Come with me!" She sobbed as she clung to the metal bars of the rig she stood on.

"Kinda busy right now, hon!" Jim growled as the assassin tackled Jim to the ground.

"Jim!" She cried as she tried to run to him and help.

"Eva! Help me close this damn thing!" Joyce wailed from the control room, her arms extended as far as they could possibly go.

"Eva, GO!" Jim ordered through the fight, he knew she could handle it. He had the faith that they would all get out of this. They had to.

Eva ran back to the control room and stood on Joyce's left. With a nod she turned the key to close the portal.

"Wait.." Joyce breathed out as she clung to Eva's arm. Something was wrong.

"Jim! No!" Eva screamed as the translucent blue light made Jim part of it's energy.

Jim nodded at his woman with tears in his eyes. Joyce, the woman he loved madly at one time. And Eva, the woman he currently loved and was going to ask her to marry him that night had Joyce not called about the fucking magnets.

"Jim, get out of there!" Eva screamed as she scrambled to leave the control room. Joyce held her back so she wasn't taken, too.

Jim mouthed, "it's okay" to his love with a small, teary smile. With a blast of energy the portal closed, taking Jim with it.

Jim was gone, and all that was left were the cries of the woman who loved him. How was she going to tell El?

**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being as well as taking requests, just while I get my "ducks" in a row after coming back. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

jim hopper x reader smut | enemies to lovers

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Hopper is your boss, and a real piece of shit as well. He always finds something to tease you about, as if trying to exert his authority over you in the cruelest way.

The verbal sparring between you has become an almost daily occurrence, and you’re getting tired of Hopper’s juvenile behavior.

The sexual attraction between you is obvious to everyone else at the station, but it’s something you’re far too proud to admit.

One evening, Hopper has had more than a few too many drinks on the job. The liquor has loosened his already unprofessional tongue, and he’s being even more of a douchebag than usual.

He makes a loud comment about how your ass ‘looks like a ripe, juicy little peach,’ in the skirt you’re wearing, humiliating you in front of your co-workers. Furious, you storm out of the station, headed for your vehicle.

Hopper follows you out to the parking lot, staggering a little in his drunkenness, slurring a string of provocative insults at you. At this moment, standing in between the cars in the station’s parking lot, watching Hopper lumber toward you with a frustratingly handsome grin on his stupid face, you realize that you absolutely CANNOT take any of his shit a minute longer…

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

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“Shut up, Hopper!”

The words came out before you could stop them. Hopper had pushed you too far this time.

He seemed a bit taken back, but fixed his expression quickly, replacing his surprise with arrogance. “You want me to shut up so bad-,” Hopper smirked. “-then why don’t you try ‘n make me?”

You stared at him blankly. Was he joking? First of all, you weren’t in the mood to play games; and secondly, if Hopper was seriously challenging you to some kind of ‘play fight,’ then he must be insane. What kind of grown ass man would try to win an argument in such a childish, immature way? And of course he would win, anyway, as if there were any doubt as to who would come out standing in a physical altercation between the two of you…

The whole thing was so stupid, whether Hopper was joking or not, that you rolled your eyes at him and turned to leave. “Dick,” you muttered, and Hopper grabbed your arm, turning you around to face him.

“That what you want?” he asked, a lecherous grin on his face. At this close proximity, you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re drunk,” you glared up at him. Hopper’s smile faded, his free hand shoving between your thighs. You gasped, your eyes wide in alarm; but Hopper’s intensity remained. “And you’re wet,” he growled, cupping your pussy in his palm.

Heat rose to your cheeks, a blush warming your face crimson. “Fuck you,” was the best response you could muster, and Hopper’s wicked smirk returned. “Yeah you will,” he murmured. Hopper tugged you closer, using the grip he had between your thighs. Another gasp left your lips, which Hopper silenced with his mouth over yours. His tongue tasted like bourbon and tobacco, a combination that made Hopper’s kiss feel as familiar as it did new.

He broke the seal of his lips on yours, watching between your bodies where his hand massaged you. “You always get this wet when you act like a bitch?” he asked. Hopper squeezed your pussy, your juices spreading between his fingers with a loud squelch. You moaned softly as he rubbed the heel of his palm against your clit, his fingertips teasing the crotch of your panties aside.

A sharp hiss escaped you as Hopper touched your bare, cum-slicked lips. “Shh, it’s okay sweetheart,” he purred down at you, with that goddamn smirk still on his face. “You don’t have t’pretend to be tough anymore…” Hopper stroked your labia between his fingertips, gently spreading them. “…Always knew the tiger you pretend to be was nothin’ but a little kitty all along...” Hopper shallowly penetrated you with his index finger, relishing the way you squeezed him. “…And now-,” Hopper murmured, inserting his middle finger inside you as well. “-I’m wearin’ this little kitty like a glove…”

You instinctively ground your hips downward, sinking deeper over Hopper’s fingers. With his free hand, he palmed his erection, grunting at the pressure of his hand through the denim. The sound Hopper made was so vulnerable, so unlike the cocky bastard he usually was, it made your heart stand still. You wanted more of this Hopper, to know his weaknesses, to hear the other sounds he made when he touched his cock…

Hopper walked you backwards till you were leaning against the side of your car. You arched your back against the cold aluminum, as Hopper’s hand continued to fuck you. His lips moved to your neck, sucking bruises into your skin, his teeth grazing the soft flesh at your shoulder. Hopper hoisted one of your legs to the level of his hip, three of his fingers now pumping in and out of your cunt, his thumb pressed calloused and rough against your clit.

You wrapped your elevated leg around Hopper’s waist, panting into his chest as he leaned forward and unbuckled his belt. Holding his cock by the base, Hopper rubbed his tip up and down your pussy, slathering your slick in between your folds. With his eyes trained on your puffy lips, Hopper watched his cock sink inside you, his nostrils flaring with a deep exhale, his jawline tensed. You whimpered Hopper’s name- “Jim…oh my god, Jim…” -as he gradually filled you, your walls fluttering around Hopper’s cock as he split you apart.

You allowed your head to fall backward, glossy eyes opening onto the night sky. Dark clouds rolled high above you, while Hopper’s cock took you to places even higher. Cool drops of rain landed on your forehead, beading in your lashes, slipping between your lips as they parted in a gaping, wanton moan. Hopper slammed his hips into yours, pinning you flatter to your vehicle with every thrust. With a final, hungry growl of dominance, Hopper shoved you off of him just in time, gripping his cock in his fist as thick streams of semen painted your thighs warm and white. He breathlessly reached for you, taking you by the back of your hair, crushing your lips to his.

It was a kiss that felt like so much more than a kiss. Every heartache Hopper had caused you, every cruel word spoken between you both was being made right. Silent words of apology and gratitude were wrapped together, shared between your mouth and his, no words necessary to convey the message that after tonight, things would never be the same, again…

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@mrshopper84

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

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

Pairing: Jim Hopper x fem!reader, Hopper POV

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

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

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

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics.

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

ENJOY!

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

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

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

Where is she? Hopper thinks to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand tightens on the door frame of the car.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could your roommate leave you like this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Which room?" He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure chief."

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

"Jim Hopper. Who is this?"

"This is (y/n’s) mother.”

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wheeze out a laugh. "Shut up."

"And you're definitely meaner."

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

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

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

"I promise I'll be right back."

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

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

"You don't have to-"

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

"I'll try my best."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You didn't have to."  You croak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And within moments, Hopper falls asleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eddieheart]

GETTING USED TO IT

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairings: NONE

Words: 360

Description: Billy’s thought after surviving the mind flayer.

Billy Hargrove had never expected his life you be like this. Cooped up in a hospital bed day and night, fed by tubes and kept on oxygen so he wouldn’t go brain dead.

He never expected that his dad would just up and go, leaving Billy alone in the white sterile room. He never expected then when waking up he’d be greeted by the sorry expression of his little sister, tears in her eyes, glad he was awake.

The last thing he could’ve expected was the chief of police to be there with her, telling him that he’d be living with him now and he surely didn’t expect to become friends with the chief’s daughter.

But here he was, friends with a twelve year old girl, attached to an oxygen tank and living with the chief.

He took a stuttering breath, sucking in more precious air into his lungs, he yearned for a cigarette but even he wasn’t stupid enough to risk blowing the house up for a smoke.

Billy was just starting to get his appetite back and thankfully the doctors had taken out his feeding tube. Hopper was slowly getting him to start eating, soup, shakes, crackers.

It was hard, changing your whole life like that. He didn’t just need a feeding tube and an oxygen tank, he had severe internal injuries, a slew of broken bones, internal bleeding, punctured lung, stomach and liver, to be honest a bit of everything had been broken. He’s even received a concussion.

Billy lived with it everyday, he walked with a cane, carried and oxygen tank and dealt with neurological issues from his head injury. He was broken, cut up and stitched back together.

Suddenly he had people taking care of him instead of the opposite. Max would dote on him, Hopper would watch over him and El was practically his nurse at this point.

At first he hated it, but he was starting to get used to the constant buzzing around his head and even worse, he was starting to like it.

Sure he never expected to live like this, but somehow it was good, somehow it wasn’t bad anymore.

@buggylad

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twenty-Two: The Flayed

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 3,322 Warnings: lil' angst, lil' fluff, falling elevators, confessions?? 👀 Smut: no | yes; A/N:��Hi, friends! You're welcome, bye!! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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Yup. We’re still falling. And still screaming, Steve having joined us. We were holding on to each other for dear life.

“Sweet shit, I’m gonna die!” I cried. Yes. I was crying. I was scared shitless.

Dustin’s screams of, “Shit! Shit!” came through the rest of our screaming.

“We’re going down, we’re going down!” Steve yelled.

“Ya’think?!” I yelled back at him. “We’re gonna fucking die!”

“Yeah, no shit, Harrington!” Robin yelled at the same time I did.

“Why don’t these buttons work?!” Dustin yelled.

I swear, we were all about to start having a screaming/yelling match. If we weren’t in the situation we were currently in, I’d be laughing my ass off, but… I couldn’t do that because… of the situation we were in.

I had Steve screaming in my ear, my own screams I’m sure going right back into his, Dustin and Erica were fighting over the buttons. Robin, I’m sure, was probably holding on for dear life, screaming at the top of her own lungs.

“Come on, press something!” Steve yelled.

“Just press the button!” I screamed.

I have no idea what happened next, but what I did know was that I was basically sitting on top of Steve, my whimpers sounding through the air as Steve held on to me, both of us breathing heavy.

“My groin,” Steve groaned.

“What?” I asked, looking at him.

“You fell on my groin.”

“Oh, shit!” I quickly made to stand up, giving him a moment to gather himself in that… region.

“Is everyone okay?” Robin asked.

I went to answer for myself, but Steve cut me off, saying, “Yeah, I’m great, now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!” while walking toward the control panel.

“I think we’ve clearly established that those buttons don’t work,” Robin said.

“They’re buttons. They have to do something.”

“Yeah, if we had a keycard.”

“A what?” Steve and I asked.

“It’s an electronic lock.” Robin moved to the control panel, standing on the other side of Steve as she said, “Same as the loading dock door. If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate, meaning–”

“We’re stuck in here,” I breathed, my eyes dancing around the floor.

“Yeah.”

“Just so you nerds are aware,” Erica said. “I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s, and Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”

“I don’t care about Tina,” Steve said. “Or Uncle Jack’s party! Your mom’s not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”

“Hey,” Dustin said. I looked at him, his eyes cast up above my head, pointing. “What if we climbed out?”

Stacking up a bunch of boxes, Dustin was the first to climb out, Steve following him.

Feeling on the verge of a panic attack as Steve asked Dustin about climbing, I sat down in a corner, pulling my knees up to my chest. Resting my forehead on my knees, I sighed and closed my eyes.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been like that, or how long I’d even been asleep for, but I stirred awake, feeling fingers lightly stroke my arm. Looking at their owner, I smiled a little, seeing Steve sitting next to me.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Honestly, I didn’t even know I fell asleep,” I chuckled. Looking up at hearing Dustin’s voice, I heard him repeat the same thing over and over again. Groaning, I went to get up, but Steve’s hand on my arm stopped me.

“I’ll go,” he said before pressing a kiss to my temple. He got up, going over to the boxes they’d stacked to begin his climbing. “Hey. You gotta take it easy on that thing, okay? You’re gonna drain the battery.”

I couldn’t hear anything else after that, other than Steve shushing my little brother.

“So,” I heard Robin say. “How long have you and Harrington been a thing?”

Smiling a little, I said, “Like, 8 or so months.”

“Anything beyond kissing and hand holding?”

Darting my eyes between hers and Erica’s, I said, “Little ears, Robin.” Turning my sights up the ceiling of this damned elevator, I heard Dustin say, “What are you doing?”

Narrowing my eyes a bit, I whispered more to myself, “What?” before hearing what sounded like a stream of water. Getting up from my spot, I turned around and looked at the wall, sighing to myself and closing my eyes. “Baby, move your stream!”

I sighed again just before I heard something banging. Turning to see what it was, I watched Erica smack the container filled with that green stuff against a metal barrel. “Wait, Erica, don’t do that!” 

“Hey, hey!” Robin said, running towards the young girl. “Be careful, careful, careful!”

“We don’t even know what that is.”

“Exactly, Olivia,” Erica said. “It could be useful.”

“How?”

“We can survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”

“I hate to break it to you, little Sinclair, but this-” I pointed to the green stuff in Robin’s hands, never taking my eyes off Erica. “-is not water.”

“No, but it’s a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.” She smiled at the end of her sentence, causing me to roll my eyes.

“God, you are a Sinclair,” I muttered.

Robin pressing her ear against the wall of the elevator caused my eyebrows to furrow in utter confusion as I said her name, a “shush” coming out of her mouth in response. She moved the table, climbing it before poking her head out of the shaft door. “We’ve got company.”

Erica and I quickly moved to the table where I made sure she climbed the boxes carefully to reach the top of the elevator before I followed her out, Steve helping me to my feet before closing the door.

The five of us either knelt or squatted while Steve watched the guards through the small square holes as they moved inside the elevator to retrieve a couple of boxes before going back out. I watched as my boyfriend looked at Erica, who was holding on to that green goo for dear life.

Just as soon as the guards left and the door was closing, Steve jumped back down into the room, just in time to put the container under the door, holding it up a few inches. One by one, we all crawled under the door, Steve looking at it on his way out, the glass on the container starting to give.

Once the glass gave, the liquid started to sizzle on the ground, like food being placed on a hot Hibachi grill.

Quickly standing, Steve said, “Jesus Christ,” as the goop ate into the floor.

“Still wanna drink it?” I asked, looking at Erica.

A few seconds later, I heard Dustin say, “Holy mother of God,” before we all turned to face what he was looking at; a super long ass hallway that seemed to stretch for what seemed like the whole country.

“Well…” Steve said next to me, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together. “Hope you guys are in good shape.”

Putting my hand on Dustin’s shoulder as Steve walked me by him, I said, “He’s looking at you, Roast Beef.”

“Let’s go, come on.”

“Why me?” Dustin asked.

“Because you’re wearing a Roast Beef shirt,” I said, walking beside Steve down this gigantic hallway.

~~~

“I mean, you have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive,” Dustin said.

Steve was giving me a piggyback. He claimed it was to help keep his strength up or something, I don’t know. All I did know was that I really wanted to nap.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, groggily.

“It’s a total fire hazard,” Steve added, slightly shifting me.

“No stairs, no exit. Just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.”

“They’re Commies,” Erica said. “You don’t pay people, they cut corners.”

“To be fair to our Russian comrades,” Robin said. “I don’t think this tunnel was designed for walking.”

“Speaking of,” I said, turning my head to face Steve’s profile. “Do I need to start walking again?”

“No, baby, you’re good,” he said, turning his head to kiss my cheek.

“Get a room,” Robin grumbled before adding, “But think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting that cargo.”

“It all comes into the mall like any old delivery,” Dustin said. “And Steve, put her down. She’s not helpless.”

“And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody’s the wiser.” Shifting me again, Steve wondered, “You think they built this whole mall just so they could transport that green poison?”

“Shift me again and I’m walking,” I said.

“You’re slipping.”

“Then let me walk, dingus.”

Steve set me down as Dustin said, “I very seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison.”

Shrugging after grabbing Steve’s hand, I said, “Maybe I’m just talking out of my ass here, but what if it’s a gate?”

“Yes, you’re talking out of your ass,” Dustin said, before continuing, “It’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”

“What the hell is promethium?” Steve asked.

“It’s what Victor Stone’s dad used to make Cyborg’s bionic and cybernetic components,” Robin said.

“It’s a radioactive metal,” I said, looking at Steve’s confused profile.

“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill,” Erica said.

“No, no, no,” Steve said. “No, don’t lump me in with them.”

“He’s definitely not a nerd,” I said.

“Why so sensitive, Harrington?” Robin teased.

“He’s afraid of losing cool-points to a 10 year old.” Looking at Steve, I smiled, seeing a not so happy look on his face. Shoulder bumping him, I said, “Oh, come on. I’m just teasing.”

“I’m just saying that I don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.”

“Promethium,” I corrected. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological creature.”

“All I’m saying is it’s probably being used to make something,” Dustin added.

“Or power something,” Robin said.

“Like something to open a gate with,” I suggested.

“You’re still on that?” Dustin asked.

“Jeez, Dusty, I don’t know! I mean, with the shit we’ve dealt with for the last two years, it could be possible!”

“I was thinking more of a nuclear weapon, Liv.”

“Walking towards a nuclear weapon,” Steve said. “That’s great. That’d be great.”

“But if they’re building something,” Robin said. “Why here? I mean, Hawkins. Seriously. Of all places. At the very best, we’re a toilet stop on your way to Disneyland, but maybe that’s it…” Her and Erica continued walking as Steve, Dustin and myself stopped walking.

“You think the Russians know?” Dustin asked.

“About the–” Steve said.

“What I’ve been saying during that conversation?” I said, crossing my arms.

“They could,” Dustin said.

“So, it’s connected?” Steve asked.

“You two aren’t listening to me, are you?” I asked, looking between both boys.

“Maybe.” Dustin.

“How?” Steve.

“We’re breaking up.” Me.

“I don’t know, but it’s…” Dustin said, glancing at me.

“Possible,” both boys said.

Steve looked at me like what I had said just now registered. “Wait, we’re breaking up?”

“Oh my god,” I muttered, walking forward to Erica and Robin.

“No, wait, are we? Because that would suck!”

Turning around to face him, I quickly put my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him towards me. My lips met his in a passionate kiss, but before it could get too hot and heavy, I pulled away, pressing my forehead against his. “That the kiss of someone who wants to break up?”

“No,” he whispered. He went to dive back in for another kiss, but a throat clearing stopped him.

“Before you decide to have sex with my sister, can we please get going?” Dustin said.

The radio going off with a Russian man’s voice coming through the speaker brought Steve and I back to reality.

“Walkie,” the boys said, rushing over to Erica.

I had to steady myself on the bars next to me, Steve and my brother having almost knocked me down.

Robin had the walkie in her hand, reciting the Russian words, all of us kneeling on the ground. “It’s the code.”

“Wherever that broadcast is coming from–,” Dustin said.

“It’s close. And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”

“It can reach the surface.”

Robin looked up at the ceiling before saying, “Let’s go.”

~~~

We somehow made it to a hiding spot behind what looked like a big A/C thing, the five of us crammed between it and the wall.

“Steve, are we clear?” I asked. “It’s getting crampy in here.”

He leaned forward a second before moving his whole body out of the way. “Okay, clear.”

One by one, we piled out of the hiding spot, following Steve. 

“Okay, that was close,” Robin said.

“Too close,” Dustin added.

Did I mention that we were almost spotted by a few Russians? No? Oh. Well… we were.

“Baby, this is dangerous,” I said, speed walking to reach him, my fingers sliding between his.

He tightened his grip on my hand, almost like he was telling me he was going to protect me from danger… like he always did. “Baby, we’re fine. The rest of you, relax. Nobody saw…”

“What?” I asked, looking from him to in front of us. “Holy shit.”

I couldn’t describe the room we were looking at because I didn’t know how to describe it. It seemed like a hub almost. There were guards keeping… well, guard. People in what looked like hazmat suits, doctors. Looked a little insane.

I made eye contact with a guard on accident, pulling Steve to a new hiding spot where we all crouched down, pressing our bodies against the railings next to us to try and hide our bodies.

“Red Dawn,” Dustin said.

“Oh, shut the hell up, Dustin,” I gritted.

“I saw it,” Erica said. “First floor, northwest.”

“Saw what?” Steve asked.

“The comms room!”

“You saw the comms room?”

“Correct.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive. The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”

“That could be a hundred different things,” Dustin said.

Turning my sights to Robin, she said, “I’ll take those odds.”

I looked at Steve, shrugging a little bit. “We need to find a way out, babe.”

He sighed like he didn’t want to have to do this, but knew there wasn’t another way out. He shook his a little before looking around the red metal box we were hiding behind. Everyone else followed his lead while I stayed put. When he pulled his body back, he faced me a little. His eyes stayed locked on mine while his hand went to my cheek, his next words directed at the whole group. “We’re gonna move fast, and we’re gonna stay low, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

Steve placed a kiss on my forehead before turning back to face the front, moving in a crouched position to the grates that were catty corner to us, myself and the other three following his every move.

We stayed there for a moment before moving again, Steve turning to shush us for a moment. I watched him turn his head back forward, tucking his hair behind his ear. Damn, if that didn’t do things to me.

Hearing a door panel beep, I did my best to look around him, watching as a man in a lab coat walked out with an opened file folder in hand.

Steve slightly stood to watch the man pass by before reaching back for my hand and pulling along with him, telling the rest of the group, “Let’s go!” as we moved to the closing door, reaching it before it actually closed.

We silently went inside of the room Erica talked about as Steve stayed at the door, ready to close it once our little group was inside. I turned around, spotting a man in a Russian Army suit sitting in a chair. 

The man turned to face us, setting down his headset and standing to face us. He moved to grab something from his waist, both of my hands moving to Dustin and Steve, both boys standing on either side of me.

As the man did this move, Robin stepped forward, hand out as she said “Tread lightly!” in Russian, saying it again at his confused look before he asked us something in Russian.

“Silver cat,” she said, making a tail motion with her hand behind her as she said it again. I only knew she was saying this code to him because we heard a million times as she was translating it.

The Russian man said something else that I didn’t understand before Robin looked back at us for a moment before saying, “China?”

The guy scoffed, reaching for what I now know to be a gun a split second before Steve yelled and ran towards him.

“Steve!” I exclaimed, feeling a hand tug me back.

Steve wrapped his arms around the guy's waist, sending him back before he was tossed to the side by the Russian. He went to swing, but Steve backed out of the way, dodging the guy’s fist. Russian Dude grabbed Steve’s uniform and slung him over to the table next to them, Steve’s chest meeting the tabletop before he elbowed the guy’s stomach as he grabbed onto the back of the sailor uniform Steve wore.

Steve grabbed the intercom thing, switching it between his hands before smacking the guy across the face with it, sending his face to the table he sat at before hitting the floor unconscious. Steve breathed heavily, moving his hair out of his face. 

“Dude!” Dustin said, gaining Steve’s attention. “You did it! You won a fight!”

“Holy fuck,” I said, regaining his attention after he looked down at the man. “I love you.” I rushed forward, grabbing his face with my hands, my lips meeting his in the same kiss we shared in the hallway.

We pulled back a little, pressing our foreheads together for a moment before he breathed, “You love me?”

I nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah.” Pulling back to look into his eyes, I ran my fingers through the side of his hair. “I do.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Because I love you, too.”

“While that’s beautiful and all,” Dustin said. “We have a mission to accomplish.” I watched as he moved towards the guy, taking the keycard off of his belt.

“What are you doing?” Erica asked.

“Getting us our ticket out of here.”

“You want to walk all the way back?”

“Well, we can hang out for a little, relax, have a little picnic maybe,” Dustin replied, sarcastically.

“Have a picnic?” Erica said. “We came here for the radio!”

“This plan is way better,” Dustin said. “If I knew Steve could knock out a Russian–”

“He did say he could take him out yesterday,” I said, turning to face Dustin a little.

“Oh, don’t defend him.”

“Why not? He’s my boyfriend,” I retorted, crossing my arms. “You’d do the same with Suzie with a Z from Utah.”

“So, you believe me about Suzie?”

“We’re not talking about Suzie!” I exclaimed.

“Then what is this about?”

“It’s about getting out of here–”

“Guys,” Robin said, gaining all of our attention. “There’s something up there.”

We all followed her up the stairs and through the door as quietly as we could. We walked up the pair of windows, looking out at what I was right about.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said.

A laser device that was being used to open a gate.

Leaning down a little bit towards my brother, I said, “Told you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: i absolutely love it when gaten screams shit. it's the best thing ever, lol

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*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

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Posted on March 25, 2024

[odetolocksmiths]

the cold flow of the air gave him chills all over his body. despite being outside, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, every breath got harder. “el!” he yelled out of frustration, again. where was she? he heard something drop in the distance, but because of the blue fog he couldn’t see what it was. he tried to run, but felt like his body was stuck and everything went too slow for him. why can’t he move the way he wants to? tears welled up in his eyes, he promised not to cry but he can’t lose her. he can’t lose another daughter, not again. with every strength in his body, he tries to push through this feeling of this weighted blanket in the air that seemed to stop him. “eleven!” he screamed out again. he heard the noise again, much closer this time. he stopped moving, trying to take in his surroundings. it was silent. he could breathe again and smelled the stench he was familair with, the one time he went to look for will in the upside down. how did he even get here? he was at his cabin, it looked rotten and abandoned. behind him, he heard leaves rustling. he turned around fast, but saw nothing. “el?” he asked.

then he heard it. the call of her voice. “daddy?” he looked in the direction of the sound. there she stood in the door opening, looking exactly like the blissful memories he has of her. his heart broke, he had forgotten about the amount he missed her. of course he thought of her every day, but he focused on other things so much, he had forgotten about the pain. her blonde hair styled in pig tails, her blue dress flowed through the air. her piercing blue eyes pierced through his own. his breath got caught in his throat, he couldn’t make a sound. “sara?” before he knew it, his body was moving to the door, he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. or so, he thought. the moment he wrapped his arms around her, he felt nothing but himself. he panicked and opened his eyes, the last thing he saw of her was her smiling face turning into dust. he broke down, his body fell to the ground and he wrapped his arms around himself trying to calm himself down. what sick nightmare was this? 

but then he heard her, the screams of eleven’s voice calling out his name in the middle of the woods. “dad!” she sounded scared, she needed his help. he had no time to break down, despite this world being cursed; he had a blessing to see his first daughter again, and he was about to find his second one.

[writerrobinarnett]

Hey guys~ I updated The Strange and Miraculous Tales of Zombie Boy and Chat Noir!

Chapter 14: After a tense visit with Terry Ives, Hopper and Eleven get into a fight over the Zombie Blog that ends in disaster.

[attentionthisisarobbery]

What do YOU Want from Stranger Things Season 5?

Part 3!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Warning: SPOILERS FOR ALL STRANGER THINGS EPISODES UNTIL THE END OF SEASON FOUR VOLUME TWO

So, as you guys might know (like all seventeen of you), I'm currently writing a fanon version of Stranger Things Season 5. The idea is to be canon compliant up until the very end of the fourth season, and from there, give all the characters the fifth season that we, the fans, want for them. I've been looking at as many theories and repeated tropes in fan content as I can - but I want to see if I can hear from you guys directly.

So tell me, what do you want to see in regards to:

Jim Hopper?

Hopper had it rough last season, what with being imprisoned, starved, tortured, and made to do slave labor. Also, he had to break his own ankle and foot to the point of being able to get it through a cuff multiple times and then run on it. We saw him bond with Dimitri, revealing the effect the Vietnam War had on him and his life. On the bright side, he finally got together with Joyce and made it home, reuniting with El. So...

How will his experiences affect his actions and behavior now that he's back in Hawkins?

How will his newfound romance with Joyce be a support to him?

How might it be tested?

What might trigger his trauma in the new season?

How can he overcome that trauma?

How might he be forced to address his past?

Who might he confide in and why?

How might his injuries hinder him?

What part does he have to play in defeating Vecna?

How has he changed towards El in the time they've been apart?

How will he react to the danger she'll have to put herself in?

How can El's story resolve Hopper's guilt over what happened to his daughter?

Joyce Byers?

Joyce continued her epic saga of being the best, most competent woman television has ever seen in season four. She may have topped herself yet again, successfully sneaking into Russia, breaking Hopper out or prison, and then breaking BACK IN. She got together with Hopper and successfully brought him back to Hawkins. So...

How would Joyce react to finding out everything that happened to her kids while she was gone?

How might she change towards the kids, knowing what they did?

Would she trust them more or become more protective?

Was Joyce aware that Jonathan was stoned at the beginning of season 4?

How would she react to the reveal?

What might prove to her that Will is more capable of looking after himself than he was in seasons one and two?

What does Joyce's relationship with El look like since she's been her guardian?

How will Joyce's dynamic with Hopper change now that they're together?

What still needs to be said between them?

What should Joyce's new mission be in season five?

Jonathan Byers?

Jonathan saw a lot of character development last season. He found a new best friend in Argyle, and a sister in El. He showed much-needed support for Will, and he decided that he didn't want to go to college with Nancy, instead applying to the college Argyle plans on attending. So...

How will he tell Nancy about his change of plans?

What prompts him to tell her?

How would he interact with Steve after what Nancy said to him at the cabin?

What led him to change his mind about college with Nancy?

How will his support of Will and his sexuality drive Will's plot forward?

How would he interact with Mike, knowing what he knows?

What actions might Jonathan take to counter his residual guilt for being "distant" ("or stoned")?

How might he be outed to his mom for smoking weed?

How would Jonathan feel about Argyle entering the Hawkins group's dynamic?

How will his dynamic with Argyle change?

Argyle?

Eduardo Franco gave us an amazing portrayal of Argyle as a new addition in season four, even though his character was mostly relegated to comic relief. What we do see of him is that he has a tendency to lose his cool in a crisis, he could be Eddie's new supplier since he has access to the good shit, and he considers Jonathan to be his only friend. So...

What role could he play beyond comic relief and being a supporting character for Jonathan?

How will his friendship with Jonathan evolve?

How will he fit in with the other party members?

What might make him believe he has friends other than Jonathan?

How will he find his place in the party?

How would he interact with Nancy?

How will he react to the Upside Down and the creatures from it?

What is Argyle's home/family situation?

Wtf should his last name be???

I literally don't care how well formed your ideas are - I want to hear your thoughts on as many of these points as possible! Please be kind to each other in the comments; we're allowed to have different opinions and desires for these characters.

(ALSO, I know that weed is like, totally normal nowadays, but in 1986, it was still illegal. Season four made a point of showing us that Jonathan is hiding it from his mom, and that Joyce seemed shocked when Murray suggested that her kids might "smoke some ganja," so it probably does need to be addressed. Tbh, I'd be fine with it if it was just an "oh gosh, I was the same at your age" situation, but I'm curious how y'all think Joyce would actually react.)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4