#they look and feel as tired as Jim Hopper does

[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | cam girl - j.h.

kinktober day seven - sex work

pairing: jim hopper x plus size!camgirl!reader

wc: 3.33k

summary: when you hosted a halloween raffle for your customers on your cam site, it just so happened to be that the winner was your own chief of police — jim hopper.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NOT welcome, NO AGE = BLOCKED! sex work, cam girl!reader, dirty talk, slight knifeplay, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, penetration (sex toys), squirting, mentions of fake blood

an: this is VERY late. please forgive me as i try to catch up LMFAOOOO enjoy!!!!

all reblogs, likes and comments are very appreciated! please give ur feed back!!

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JIM WAS A DIFFERENT MAN behind his uniform and badge, he was a different man when it was just him alone, his laptop, his solace. 

he was a hungry man, who hadn’t felt much of a woman’s touch in a while. not since work got heavier, days got longer— he didn’t have the energy to look for a companion. to hopper, he didn’t feel like the hottest man in town. 

getting older, gaining a little weight, being a little too mean to anyone he didn’t know – being alone seemed inevitable. 

but he found comfort in something. it was his guilty pleasure, as people would say. but he didn’t feel guilty, because stumbling upon a certain cam girl site led him to you. 

it wasn’t ideal. the idea of sharing your body for the world to watch and see was deathly terrifying. but the money. when you were in your early teens you always felt ugly, everyone made it known to you that fat was ugly. they tried to convince you to hate yourself, and they did. 

but then you got older, you turned eighteen, and then you were twenty three — in a grown woman's body. but the attention you got now felt forced, only because it was new to you. you found that people would pay to watch you naked, see you play with yourself, spend hundreds just to get on the phone with you. 

doing this for a while you learned how to not get discouraged, or tired of it. this week was especially long for you, sitting at a desk typing in numbers all day, but then saturday came around. 

halloween. your favorite holiday, and in the spirit you were doing halloween deals on your page. you had a decent amount of following, over one thousand people who subscribed to you, paying monthly just to access your videos and photos. 

you lived under the name of theevxmpg1rl, something that’d been a username since you were younger for your social medias, but described you still. 

you situated yourself in front of your camera, clicking on your computer until the camera got you in full frame, sitting on your knees with a bloodied kitchen knife in your hand. you were wearing the tightest white dress that hugged your rolls and pressed your breasts so they sat firm. 

the white button up dress that came just below your ass was soiled with fake blood, you even added a little nurse’s hat to try to put some sense behind the outfit. you were going for a silent hill nurse kind of vibe, just without the gauze. still, you knew and that’s all that mattered. 

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jim was home alone again, laying in nothing but his boxers  with his laptop directly on his lap. jim was one of th many men who joined the halloween raffle you announced at the beginning of the week, and it wasn’t until it was eleven fifteen on halloween night when he got a notification. 

congratulations! you’ve been selected as the winner of theevxmpg1rl’s halloween raffle! please follow the link below to join the video chat!

jim had to read it a few times back before adjusting himself in front of the camer once he followed the link, which prompted him to a screen that does the audio and visual checks. jim clicked the camera off, a little nervous to be on chat with you and only you. 

it was only two minutes when he saw you pop up on screen. smiling as you adjusted your dress lower, you looked at the familiar username that popped up in your chats a lot. 

“hi there, congratulations on winning this little raffle i had going,” you said and waited to see a face on screen, instead just a black profile picture. 

“uh, thank you.” jim said hesitantly, feeling himself grow half hard at the way you were dressed. 

“so, you have forty minutes with just me, do you have any ideas of how you want to spend those forty minutes?” you said with seduction, hoping maybe he’d take open the camera. 

“you look real pretty sittin’ like that,” he said in a low voice, the stranger’s voice booming through your laptop. you felt the bass in his voice hit straight to your core. 

you blushed, smiled and looked down at your knees, “thank you.”

jim was getting more comfortable by the minute, watching you squirm and he hadn’t even shown you what he looked like. he was nervous that you’d recognize him, that is if you lived in the area,  but luckily he didn’t need to show his face. he pointed the webcam downwards so that it cut off at his neck, and sat back against the headboard to show you what he knew you were wanting. 

he was admiring the way your body was shaped, every roll and inch of thickness that was added on your body made his cock stiffen. there was just so much of you, all for his eyes in this moment.

“why don’t you stand up and take that little costume off, yeah?” he asked, and you obliged with a fit of butterflies in your belly. 

it wasn’t until you used the kitchen knife to pry the buttons of when you saw the picture flash into an actual video feed, with a gruff man in frame but only from the neck below. you were okay with this, because when you fixed the camera you were able to see that he had is large hand in his boxers, stroking himself to you. 

it spurred you on, furthering the wetness between your thighs and you managed to take the bloodied dress off, leaving you in a black lace underwear set. the blood from the dress stained your skin, but jim didn’t mind. you being in the spirit made him smile, and groan at the sight of you doing a three sixty, bending over once you show him the fullness of your ass. 

“you’re fuckin’ unbelieveable,” jim breathed out, catching the authority in his voice without missing a beat. 

“would you like me to take anything else off, sir?” 

it startled him a bit, and his hand gripped the shaft of his girthy manhood, watching as you teased your fingers with the waistband. 

“cut those fuckin’ panties off, baby,” he ordered, and like an obedient girl you were, you took the kitchen knife carefully as you stood up and turned back to face the webcam, sliding it under the fabric nd sawing through the lace. you repeated that on the other side and spread your legs a little so they could fall to the floor. 

you dragged the tip of the knife up the thickness of your thighs, scrapping it against the curves in your belly, up your waist and over the cups of your bra. 

“you know, i wasn’t always a fan of blades,” you trailed as you moved the blade behind your back, turning and wedging the blade under the stretchy fabric of the band, “but i feel like maybe i’m starting to like a little danger,” 

you looked over your shoulder as you cut through the band and let the bra go loose, sliding off of your arms. 

jim took in the shape of your back, the way it curved at the waist and how your ass looked from behind, thinking of all of the ways he’d make you beg him to stop with tears in your eyes. 

“yeah, ‘s that right sweetheart?” he asked behind the screen and you turned, letting the ruined bra fall to the floor. 

you stood in front of your camera that sat on your dresser, pretty halloween lights surrounding your room and coloring you red and orange. 

“mhm,” you hummed in agreement, feeling your cunt pulse at the sight of him freeing his hardness from his boxers. 

it was a little above average size, but the thickness of him made your mouth water. he looked heavy, almost impossible to take in your throat without feeling the searing stretch. 

“fuck, you’re so thick, i love how pretty your cock looks,” you flutter, dropping the knife and pressing your tits together for him. 

“you think so? think i have a pretty cock?” he asked and you nodded, loving that he could see all of you but you were still wondering who this mystery man was. 

your customers had no obligation to show you their face or even turn their cameras on, but for some reason you were yearning for a face. 

“i think so,” you smiled and sat on the edge of your bed that was positioned in front of the dresser. 

“fuck, just like that, let me see you spread those pretty legs for me,” he groaned, his hand pumping his thickness in his palm, wet with spit. 

jim was too eager, he felt, too eager to see all of you. 

“what do you want me to do, sir? do you want me to play with myself?” you asked nervously, with sultry added to your voice. 

“i want you to cum with me, baby, don’t cum until i tell you to, you got that?” he firmed up, moving his hand to his mouth to spit more and rub it on his angry head. 

“but,” you started and he cut you off. 

“it’s yes or no sweetheart,” 

“yes,” you said, defeatedly. 

“yes what?” he urged again, and you bit your lip as you opened your legs further to show him the slick gathering between the fat of your lips. 

“yes sir,” 

he watched you grab pillows from where your headboard was, and stacked them to lean on and sit with your knees to your chest. 

“do you want me to use a toy?” you asked coyly. 

jim thought about it, and felt his cock throb at the image. 

“yes baby, grab one of your dildos, can you do that?” he asked softly, the fluttering in your stomach only growing as you smiled and reached over to your night stand. 

you opened the drawer to pull out a neon pink dildo that was not nearly as thick as him, but well endowed enough for you to feel full, as full as you could feel without the real thing. 

“you’re fucking pretty like that, love watching you fuck yourself dumb,” jim admitted and you bit your lip, bringing the tip of the fake cock to rub between your lips and against your clit. 

jim was imagining it as himself, teasing your tight hole until he finally gets wet enough with your juices to slide inside. he wanted to be the one filling you up and watching you squeeze around his cock. 

“you’re one of my top customers, sir, do you watch me a lot?” you asked in a breath as you watched him pump his swollen cock, and moved the shaft of the pink toy between your cunt lips. 

watching the way your cunt sucked the toy in without even sliding inside of you made his leg twitch, moving it to bend at the knee as he stroked tighter. 

“i do, baby. can’t help it when you have such a pretty, thick fuckin’ pussy,” he breathed, sitting up a bit more, “fuck, i think you’d look real nice sittin’ on my cock, get you soakin’ me,” 

you saw the slight chub of his belly, the hair on his chest and the thickness of his thighs — all manly. 

the hair on his arms and the thickness of his fingers wrapping around his shaft to jerk himself off, ignoring the burning desire to see the man behind the username. it was causing you to clench around nothing as you leaned back on the stack of pillows, letting on hand squeeze at your breast and the other guiding the tip of the toy to stretch your hole. 

“that’s it, honey, let me see how much you can take,” he said gruffly, a low rasp in his voice that added to the powerful aura. he seemed like he was used to being in charge, getting what he wanted, knowing how to get what he wants. 

all you wanted right now was to be what he wanted. 

“mmphf, fuck, i-,” you gasped as you sunk the toy further into your cunt, “-haven’t fucked in a long time,” 

jim groaned at that, watching how your cunt stretched around the toy the further you welcomed it inside of you. 

“aw,” he cooed and you heard the slick rhythm of his hand stroking his cock, “i bet you wished you did meet ups yeah? i don’t see how anyone wouldn’t wanna fuck that pretty face,” 

“fuck, fuck so good, ‘s fuckin’ good,” you moaned and bucked your hips as you tried to copy the same pace jim was going. 

when he realized this, he felt his balls tighten and let out a throaty moan. 

“oh fuck, you need this cock that bad? tell me sweet girl, tell me you need me,” 

you did what he asked for. you weren’t going to say no. 

“yes! yes sir! please, i need you, need your thick fucking cock inside me,” you cried as you threw your head back, the juices around your toy gathering to tell the entire neighborhood how wet a random man on the internent had you. 

“oh baby, you sound so fucking pretty, so needy,” he taunted and you could practically hear the smile on his words. 

“cus’ i need you, need your dick,” you cried as you pushed the toy deep inside you, hitting a spot that sent twinges to your clit. 

“think about you suckin’ me off, honey, all the time, any time i can,” he admitted through the computer and your body responded to his. 

you watched as his sloppy fist pumped around his cock, throbbing for you as you continued your pace with your dildo. you pulled the cock all the way out of your hole, just to prod the tip between your pussy lips and fuck your hole with just the tip. 

“fuck,” you cried, feeling an unusual build up in your tummy, “want your cock, want it so bad,” 

jim was watching you fuck yourself, the way you fucked your hole with just the head of the fake cock and watched you play with your nipples. it was too much, so much to take in from you and he groaned loudly, watching as you started to squirm. 

“fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you chanted and jim tsked. 

“not yet baby, what did i say?” he ordered and you whined, moving your other hand down to rub firm circles with two fingers on your clit. 

“doing so good, come on, talk to me princess.” he asked and you cried, clearing your throat. 

“please, let me cum on your cock, let me soak it please, i wanna cum for you, just you, wanna show you how much i need your cock,” you moaned, imagining his thickness filling you up until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“so fucking big, so thick, gonna stretch me out so much sir,” you added and he grunted, his fist massaging at his head as he thrusts into his palm. 

“fuck, fuck baby go on, cum for me, let me see you cum on that cock,” he strained as he neared his own orgasm, watching the desperation in your eyes turn to glee. 

your fingers rubbed firmer, faster and you moved the dildo to slowly slide back inside of you and when you felt the stretch again — you let out a throaty cry when you felt the tension of your release break. 

“oh my ff-” you tried, “cumming, ‘m cumming,” 

something inside you snapped, and the tension in your lower belly spread through your body as chills ran over and you heard something sort of a faucet running. 

but it was just you, making a mess over your bed and letting this man watch as you squirted for him on the dildo. your legs shook and trembled as heat flooded your face, eyes rolling back and letting your body convulse at his doing. 

“oh fuck,” he grunted, thrusting one last time into his fist before he lets spurts of cum hit his belly, wincing with every stroke and calling just for you. watching you had been one of the best things he’s seen in a while, and only made the need to have you even stronger. 

like that’d ever happen. 

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stepping into the new holiday season took a lot out of you, especially with going to the supermarket for christma decorations a little towards the middle of november. 

you went in for a couple of things only, not focusing on the rest of the world just about what you need. of course, until you got so distracted you back up into a tall, full figure. 

you turn in the aisle, scanning up the frame you bumped into and meeting with a beige police uniform, and up to the unshaven face of jim hopper. of course you didn’t know who he was, but he knew who you were. you were too entranced by the roundness of his face and the mustache that sat on his top lip, until he raised his eyebrow at you. 

“oh! i’m so sorry, sir, i just wasn’t paying attention,” you blushed and his throat tightened at the formal name you gave him. 

there was no way you’d know it was him that night, the one that watched you squirt for him. so he needed to play it cool, especially finally seeing you in person. full, luscious and gorgeous — clothes hugging every curve that he’d have memorized. 

“it’s alright honey, honest mistake, yeah?” he says, his frame towering over you. 

“yeah,” you said shyly and looked down the aisle under his gaze, “honest mistake.” he was gorgeous, sculpted like a man who could protect you if need be. he made you nervous and it wasn’t just because he was the chief. according to his badge, at least. 

“are ya new in town?” he asked, moving his hat off of his head and into his cart he had. 

“sort of, didn’t even really know they had an actual police department here.” you said, half joking. it was a small town, and seemed a little run down. 

jim just chuckled, and shook his finger at you, “you’re funny,” 

you just blushed, putting the christmas lights you held in your hands in the basket. he watched your every movement, watched you turn and face him again while you inhaled and exhaled. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“well, i better get going. have a good day, sir.” you smiled, pushing your basket down the aisle as he watched you leave. 

“have a good day, honey. let me know if you ever need anything.” 

you just smiled and thanked him, turning back and walking to turn into another aisle. he itched to see you again, needing to hear your voice in person again. 

that night you got a message from the same user who gave you butterflies in your stomach, and who watched you strip bare for him on halloween night. 

should be careful who you bump into these days, honey. didn’t want to say anything in person so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but you’re even prettier in person. you know where to drop by if you ever need some help. 

you hiccuped, instantly typing back to the man in uniform. 

that was you? you’re the chief? 

he responded swiftly, quickly. 

does that make you uncomfortable? 

you grinned at the text box, moving your fingers around the keyboard. 

no actually, i might have to drop by the station now that i think about it. need a little bit of extra help from one of the guys there, you wouldn’t know anyone who could be of service do you? 

i do, actually. he’s the chief, just call this number here and he’ll get to you as soon as possible, baby. 

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TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley

still doing my taglist, and i'll be adding it under every kinktober fic from now on! let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore!

#plus size smut #smut #fat girls #chubby smut #plus size reader #jim hopper x plus size reader #jim hopper smut #jim hopper #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things au #st4 #female reader #fluff #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober masterlist #x reader #jim x reader #curvy #body positive #chubby #big tiddy committee

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 2)

Part 1 (also your responses?? I’m!!!!!so happy!!!! nvm i changed my mind imma continue this) next: Part 3

The Hawkins police station is almost empty as Wayne marches inside. At the front desk, Flo looks up with any lack of surprise.

“Your nephew isn’t in the jail cell, Wayne.” She says in her way of greeting. With the several times of bailing Eddie out of here from his mishaps, she’s practically his next-door neighbour.

“I need to speak to Hopper.” Wayne says hoarsely. After an hour of calling Eddie’s name and walking around the area in the woods, he had drove straight to the station.

Flo blinks, her gaze searching him from head to toe. “How urgent is it to see the Chief? He’s out with Powell and Cahallan for the search.”

“Family emergency-urgent.”

Flo makes him sit down at the chairs as she radioes Hopper. Waiting patiently is usually his strong suit, but Wayne’s leg bounces lightly for the first time in his life. It might have to do with this rushing river of energy that’s keeping him more awake and alert than his coffee.

He knows that he’s gonna pass out soon when the hours catch up to him, but to hell with it. He’s not having any good sleep until Eddie comes home.

The sound of doors opening perks Wayne’s attention up. Chief Jim Hopper approaches him with a nod. “Wayne. What’s the issue here?” Direct as always. Wayne has a little good faith in the chief for that reason.

“Jim.” He stands up. “It’s about my boy Eddie-” he tries not to notice on how Hopper’s shoulders seem to deflate and how his expression hardens to irritation. “-he’s gone missing.”

“You don’t mean run off?”

“Strong word to use when I found his van crashed with blood on the wheel and my nephew nowhere in sight.”

That catches Hopper’s full attention. “Show me.”

Wayne drives back to Eddie’s van, Hopper’s police car right behind him. Predictably, the van remains as it is when Wayne had left it. He watches as the chief and two officers closely inspect the vehicle, inside and out, making comments.

“Keys still in the ignition. Engine’s juiced out.”

“Definitely a bloodstain on that wheel. Nothing else on the seats or dashboard though.”

“How fast was this kid driving?” “It’s Eddie Munson.” “Statement withdrawn.”

“Front’s not completely crumbled than I imagined.”

Wayne doesn’t tell them how loud they’re talking. Keeps his hands gripped tightly around his forearms. He knows police work is a long process, but he does want them to look up at him with an Eureka! and say, “We know where your nephew is.”

Wishful thinking is something new to him too.

“There’s blood on the headlights.”

“What?” Hopper walks over to officer Cahallan squatting at the front. Wayne does the same because he never saw any blood there. Only laser-focused on the wheel.

He still doesn’t see any until Cahallan points them out. Along the damaged hood and headlights are speckles of blood so dark it’s black.

A chill runs down Wayne spine. His first thought is that Eddie hit a deer. Those bastards know nothing about safe road crossing. But… that doesn’t make sense. If it’s a deer, then it could’ve been lying on the road or nearby where he could see it.

“The hell?” Hopper mutters, wiping a hand over his face. He stands up and faces Wayne, leading him away from the van.

“Well?” Wayne asks because he doesn’t want to ask the real question yet.

Hopper sighs. “I’m not entirely sure, Wayne. But with the scene here, I feel like Eddie just ran off, hid somewhere, and probably on his way home.”

“He didn’t come home last night, Chief.”

“Did you check other places where you know he likes to be? Like the high school?”

“No,” Wayne shakes his head, “I was on my way there but I saw the van- Jim, you know it doesn’t look-”

“It could be a hit and run.”

They both whip their heads towards Powell’s voice. He’s standing next to the half-open driver’s door, holding a small white bag with his fingers.

“I mean, van damaged at the front with dry blood on it? The tire marks on the road? Missing driver? This bag of pot I found in the back?” He sniffs, making a face. “It’s a hit and run, Mr. Munson. Textbook. And there’s no body because your nephew might’ve dragged the poor bastard out into the woods somewhere.”

The woods become so quiet that Wayne could probably hear the birds over at the Appalachians. He tries to imagine it. But he can’t because he knows Eddie is too kind, too gentle, too scared to even think of harming another person. Even it’s something by accident, Eddie would just run.

Eddie wouldn’t even do this.

Before he thinks twice, Wayne walks back to his car and restarts the engine.

“Wait, hold on! Wayne!” Hopper grabs the frame of the open car window. “Wayne, I have to take your statement at the station. We’ll still help look for Eddie, alright?”

Wayne glares at him. Without a word, he reverses his truck back to the road and drives off.

He silently prays that Eddie is at the high school so he can ground the boy for the rest of his life.

—

Jim watches Wayne Munson’s truck driving off before he turns around and stares a hot-metal glare at Powell. Cahallan has been muttering curses and pinching the bridge of his nose ever since Powell explained his hit and run theory.

“You,” he growls, making the officer shrink down, “are a fucking idiot. Who the hell gave you the right to sprout that bullshit in right of Wayne Munson?”

“I- well, I just thought-”

“Can I radio Morgan to tow the van?” Cahallan asks, sending his own glare at his coworker.

Jim nods, not moving his glare. “After we find Will Byers and Eddie Munson, you’re fired, Powell.”

—

Small hands are shaking Eddie by the shoulder as he slowly wakes up. He absentmindedly slaps them away as he gets up. “Yeah, yeah, Wayne, I’m up.”

But instead of his bedroom, he blinks his eyes open to a natural hollow of overgrown roots with a nightly blue light, weird floating snowflakes, and Will Byers’ face.

“Oh good, you’re finally awake!” Little Byers the Vanished smiles, relief clear on his face.

Eddie greets him with, “What the fuck.”

Little Byers blinks at him owlishly and shakes his head. He tugged on Eddie’s arm. “We gotta run. The demogorgon might come back to find us.”

“What the fuck.”

“The demogorgon? That’s what I call the monster. You know, from Dungeons-”

“What the fuck.”

Little Byers stops tugging and stares at him. Eddie’s never seen a twelve year look so judgemental of him. “You swear more than my dad.” The kid says in a tone that reminds him of Wayne and, shit, does that make him hurry to his feet.

He lets Little Byers grab his mostly uninjured hand and damn, the kid has some arm strength. Eddie lets him to do that because his legs feel a bit numb and he’s shaking badly as he gawks around the surroundings.

This is still the woods in Hawkins, he knows that. But at the same time, it’s not. He can’t stop staring at the snowflakes and vines, tripping over a few.

Fuck, he wants to go home and hug Wayne and never walk into the woods ever again.

“Hey, uh, where are we going?” It’s hard to ask when his teeth are chattering for some reason. Even though it’s November, the weather is warm enough to allow a light sweater and jacket. But here, whatever and wherever here is, it’s so cold that it easily seeps through his flannel and denim vest and below his entire skin.

“My house!” Little Byers says as they come across the road. There are more vines everywhere on the asphalt. And why the hell is everything so blue? “I’ve been trying to talk to my mom and I know she can hear me, but we-”

“Yeah, nope.” Eddie tries to yank his hand out but this kid has a strong grip. “I need to go to my place.”

Little Byers stops and looks at him. “Why?”

“Why? Well, Little Byers,” he runs his other hand through his hair, getting out some dead leaves and the snowflakes, “because I just got dragged into this weird place in the middle of the night after crashing my van and my uncle is coming back from his shift by now, so it would be a relief if I could just go home so he doesn’t freak out!” His voice pitches higher by the end of the sentence.

The boy stares at him with wide eyes. He looks over his shoulder for a moment - presumably to the direction of his house - and back at Eddie.

“Not saying that you should go with me! I mean, you said about trying to get to your mom, right? Like, maybe go to your house and I’ll go to mine and…” Eddie trails off when Little Byer’s expression changes to that judgemental look again. It makes Eddie’s insides shrivel up in shame because he’s finally registering too late the words coming out of his mouth and wow.

Solid plan, Munson. Just leave the missing kid you just found all by himself in this weird Hawkins nightscape and run off alone while a monster is running around wanting to kill you.

“Actually, you know what? I’ll just take you with me! Yeah, solid plan. Watcha think?”

Little Byers breaks into a smile, nodding vigorously. “Yes, that sounds good! We can try contacting your uncle too!”

Oh thank god I didn’t actually leave this kid behind like a fucking idiot. Eddie tugs the boy along by the hand this time to where the trailer park is. He hopes.

Because he gets lost again, he’s probably just going to curl up into a ball and cry like he should’ve done minutes ago.

— —

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @demolitionjetstar @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot

#wayne munson #eddie munson #will byers #jim hopper #klaus writes #stranger things #eddie and will in the upside down au

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Working Lunch

Jim Hopper x AFAB! Reader

Plot? What Plot? It's straight up Hopper porn. It's not alluded to in this story but Reader is younger than Hopper like late 20's to his mid 40's as I'll probably string this, the Dirty Dancing story and others to come into a linked series of oneshots.

Warnings: Smut with a capital S, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (F receiving), p in v sex, creampie, rough sex, rough Hopper, size kink - we live for Dad bod! Hopper, semi-public sex? Light choking? Do better warnings shithead.

It’s a slow day at the diner, mostly due to the beautiful day outside, sun blazing in through the windows, making the vinyl booths almost too hot to the touch. You let out a huff, it’s bad enough that you’re missing the sunshine, but you’re also missing Hopper. The two of you have been super busy with work, helping Jane study, trying to fix up the cabin, most evenings you’re both so tired you crawl into bed with only a small kiss or two before succumbing to exhaustion. You thrive on affection, something that Jim was usually only too eager to give, so you’re feeling significantly touch-starved and needy.

You wonder what Jim is doing right now, it’s almost lunchtime, you knew from Flo that’s he’s barely been stopping to eat and when he does it’s usually from the station’s giant tray of donuts. A devious little idea starts to form in your mind, you could take Jim some lunch and maybe, just maybe get some attention whilst you’re there.

“Hey Donna, would you be ok for half an hour if I take some lunch over for Hop?” You ask your colleague, who is currently overfilling the sugar dispensers in a daze.

“Oh, sure sweetie take the time you need, it’s not exactly Grand Central.” She smiles, gesturing to the empty tables as you quickly make up a BLT, shoving it into a paper bag.

“Call me at the station, if it picks up.” You say, pressing a grateful kiss to her cheek.

The midday sun hits you in a stifling wave, heat gathering about your ankles from the burning sidewalk, you’re glad to be wearing your light pink work dress as you skip across the street towards the station.

It’s barely cooler in the building, despite the numerous fans humming and grating on every available surface, Flo has her nose pressed into a gossip magazine when you clear your throat.

“Hey there hunny, you here to see the Chief?” She smiles indulgently at you.

“Just thought I’d bring him some proper lunch for once.” You say shaking the bag.

“You’re too good to him, you know that?” Flo reminds you affectionately.

“I know.” You laugh, heading down the corridor, waving at Powell in greeting from where he’s stood by the xerox machine. 

  The door to Jim’s office is shut, no doubt to keep Callahan from bothering him incessantly, you knock smartly on the wood, buzzing with excitement to see the man on the other side.

“Yeah?” Jim grunts and you roll your eyes at his manners opening the door, he’s pouring over some paperwork, head in his hands not having bothered to look up, the air stale with cigarette smoke and coffee.

“Special delivery for Jim Hopper.” You chime, shutting the door with your butt.

His head shoots up straight away, the deep frown of concentration on his face morphing into a beaming grin that makes your heart swell and sputter. 

“Well this is a surprise.” Jim says happily, pushing his chair out, moving quickly around the desk. His large hands envelop your waist pulling you close, you wouldn’t be surprised if the heat from his palms burn a hole through your dress.

“It’s lunchtime, can’t have the big, strong, Chief of Police going hungry.” You smile, holding the paper bag aloft.

“You’re too good to me.” He murmurs, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“You know it’s funny, Flo said exactly the same thing.” You tease, chasing his lips for a kiss of your own.

“She did huh?” Jim asks, eyebrow cocked, hands drifting down past your waist to cup your ass. “Well I can’t have my best girl going around thinking she’s underappreciated can I?” He teases, bringing you flush to his body, kissing you hard.

Your head is spinning as his tongue licks into your mouth, threading your fingers through his hair, moaning softly as he manhandles you, lifting you to sit on the edge of this desk. Jim hitches your dress up, hands disappearing under the fabric to rub along your thighs, his lips quirk up in a cocky smile when he coaxes another soft moan from your throat.

“So eager baby girl.” He croons, sinking to his knees in front of you, finger hooking at the waistband of your panties dragging them down slowly revealing your wet core. “Jesus baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping for me.” Jim groans, placing heated kisses to your inner thighs, up and up, until his nose nudges at your sensitive clit, tongue swiping through your creamy slick before pushing in.

“Jim!” You gasp, head thrown back, fingers tugging at his short hair.

He growls against your cunt, hands grabbing at your ass, dragging you forward so his tongue fucks you deeper. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, aware that the majority of the Hawkins’ Police force is just on the other side of the door, but it’s hard to concentrate when Jim is lapping at your pussy in such a sinful way. Two thick fingers replace his tongue, stretching and scissoring, making you ready for his cock, the tip of his tongue now firmly focused on your sensitive clit, circling insistently.

Your body seizes, shivers wracking up through your spine as your orgasm pulses from your belly down to your curled toes and back again.

Jim is on his feet, frantically unbuckling his belt, unleashing his thick, girthy cock from the straining confines of his uniform, the tip ruddy and leaking heavily with pre-cum. You can only reach for him, with hooded eyes, head tucked into his neck as he leans over you.

“Fuck.” Jim grunts, lining himself up with your weeping slit, pussy stretching with a delicious burn as he works his way in. You already feel impossibly full, whimpering with each thrust, the edge of the desk digging into your back, your nails biting into Jim’s shoulders.

“You feel so fucking good baby.” He groans, hauling you up to his chest, capturing your lips in a messy kiss.

“Hop, fuck, want you to bend me over your desk.” You whine, licking the sweat from his exposed throat.

“Oh fuck, you’ll be the death of me.” He says in awed disbelief, pulling out, flipping you over and slamming back in, in one fluid motion, flicking your dress up over your ass so he can see his cock piston in and out. His large hand strikes the back of your thigh, leaving a welting red mark that makes you squeak, the sting only sending you closer and closer to your climax again. Papers, pens and clutter falling to the floor with the force of Hopper’s movements, fucking into you without hesitation, drunk on the tight, wet heat of your pulsing cunt.

“Jim, baby, I’m so close.” You whimper, tucking a hand between your legs to rub at your clit, feeling his heavy balls slap against you.

“Oh Jesus.” He huffs, his grip on your hips sure to leave bruises, there’s a knock at the door but Jim doesn’t stop if anything he drills into you harder than ever. “Go away - I’m busy!” He yells, breathing heavily.

“Yeah - Chief I have a question abou-”

“Callahan - if you don’t step away from my fucking door right now - I will fire your sorry ass!” Jim shouts and you have to stifle a giggle, which cuts off abruptly into a strangled moan as Jim presses against throat, hauling your back to his chest. “Something funny baby girl?” He growls in your ear, biting down on the sensitive lobe.

“Jim -” You whine brokenly, he bats your hand away from your clit, circling with his rough thick fingers.

“That’s it doll, come on my cock, lemme feel you squeeze me.” He encourages, voice rough and low.

The tight band in your stomach snaps, wave after wave of burning pleasure coursing through you, making your legs shake.

“God fucking dammit!” Hopper chokes, snapping his hips in staggered thrusts, his cum filling you to the very brim, leaning heavily against your back, trying to put his weight onto the desk, panting from exertion.

“Jim -?” You murmur weakly.

“Yeah baby?” He asks breathlessly, rubbing soothing circles over your back.

“We squished your sandwich.” 

#stranger things #jim hopper x y/n #jim stranger things #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #hopper x y/n #hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x afab reader #jim hopper x reader smut #jim hopper smut #chief hopper #chief jim hopper #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper imagine #hopper #hopper stranger things #hopper x fem reader #jim hopper x reader oneshot #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fandom

[abbygirly]

I am COMPLETELY IN LOVE with Chief Hopper (David Harbour) and I decided to put my stories here to share with you guys.

I hope you enjoy it and leave a comment if you'd like to read more!!!

Without further ado, here it's Part I!!!

PS.: Help me give a title to this story!!

Thanks!!!

-Oh my God!! You have a crush on Hopper? - Nancy asked, yelling in my ears.

We were leaving class and waiting for the bus.

-Geez, Nance. Why don't you scream louder so that maybe he'll hear you from the station?

-But, I mean... It's Jim Hopper. He could be our dad.

-You think I don't know that? It's just... I'm sick and tired of hanging out with guys like Steve. They're so immature and stupid. I can't seem to find someone that makes me feel the way Hopper does. He's so manly and sexy, I can't explain. I feel so weak when he's around… it's ridiculous, I know.

-What are you going to do about it? It's not like you can go straight to him and tell him that...

I sighed.

-That's why I didn't want to make a big deal out of this. It's just a crush. It'll never be anything more. Besides he's friends with my dad, so he would never make a move even if he wanted to.

-We're going to find you a great guy that's gonna make you forget all about Chief Hopper.

Doubtful, I thought to myself.

I knew it was ridiculous having a crush on Chief Jim Hopper. Especially because I was still a virgin. He's much older and so much more experienced. I'm sure he likes women who know how to behave with a man like him. But I wanted to know how it would feel to be really desired and I wanted to learn how to please him, but at the same time, what if he laughed at me? I would never get over it and probably get traumatized for the rest of my life.

I couldn't stop wondering what it would be like to be in chief Hopper's arms, his hard body against mine. His big hands on me, touching and caressing me.

My curiosity always gets the better of me. Whenever I see him, my heart races and I get soaking wet. I start thinking about everything I'd like him to do to me. Like spank my ass and make me gag on his hard shaft. I would love to drool all over him and take all his cum in my mouth.

Fucking chief Hopper!

I was starting to get soaking wet and dying to relieve myself when I got home. I shut the door behind me and started going up the stairs when I heard male voices in the kitchen.

-Dad? - I yelled and went straight to the kitchen, only to see Chief Hopper standing in the middle of the room with my dad. He was in his usual uniform, which made him look even more irresistible, if that's even possible. His eyes trailed down my body and I shivered.

-Hey, there she is! - Hopper said, spreading his arms so he could give me a hug.

This isn't happening!!, I thought, as my knees got weaker as he held me in his arms. I fucking love his bear hugs, even though I know he probably still sees me as a young girl. His smell was just.. pure fucking Hopper scent, so manly and sexy, I almost orgasmed right there.

When he let me go, I felt a sting on my chest, like a voice saying: he'll never want you.

-How was school? - dad asked, but all I could think about was tearing my clothes off so Hopper could fuck me right there.

-Abby, I asked you a question.

-Oh… it was… so good… - I answered, practically moaning and Hopper stared, with a half grin on his face and he winked at me. I had to bite my lower lip to stop from saying: For fuck's sake, Hopper. Fuck me now!!

I couldn't. Not yet. Not when my dad is around.

But I wasn't going to give up that easily. There was nothing I wouldn't do to make him mine.

... TO BE CONTINUED.

#david harbour #chief jim hopper #hopper #jim hopper smut #jim hopper #chief hopper #romance #stranger things #smut

[mynameis-noe-body]

Okay so — time for Stranger Things' Headcanon: dad Jim Hopper edition.

James "Jim" Hopper was born around 1941/42, follow me on this. He went to school with Joyce, same year, right? And we know they are around 40 in Season 1 — it's 1981/82.

Let's say he left for Vietnam right out of high school, he's barely 18, just a boy. But he spends five of the worst years of his life fighting in a foreign country, breathing shit and stuff. He's 22 when he comes back — 1964.

Joyce gets married the same year, to Lonnie. They are definitely not going to be happy, and Jim knows that. They have been friends, good friends years before. So, he's not really surprised to find about his old friend unhappy marriage. They spend and awful lot of time talking about that, but there's nothing she can do, come on — she's a young woman, just married and even though she fights her husband every day she still believes there's something that may be saved. That's when she gets pregnant with Jonathan — 1966.

Jim is 24, he just started into Hawkins Police and damn, the uniform dresses him good. Chicks look at him, and he likes that, he can't deny. At the same time, things for Joyce keep getting harder.

Things go slowly and difficult, and even boring sometimes. Nothing really ever happens in Hawkins. And people talk — better saving the appreance, right?

It's 1967 when, one summer night, Joyce is exhausted. Lonnie hasn't come back yet, and she knows she won't see him before Monday night, that's just how her weekends usually go. She's lonely, and tired, Jonathan is finally sleeping and she need a break. Jim calls to check on her, just to say hi or something. She invites him over. "God, I need a beer and a cig, Jim. You don't know how tired I am."

He comes later, six cold beers and a pack of cigarettes. (Maybe even some weed, for old time sake.)

They drink, and smoke. And laugh. And smoke, and drink. They don't know exactly how it happens, but it happens. They wake up still half naked on the couch next morning and they swear it was just one night, and they'll forget about it. He leaves, and life goes on.

Lonnie comes back home, Jim meets his wife some time later. And when he gets married, they live on the other side of Hawkins for some time, before New York. It's not a big city, and somehow the two of them just slowly becomes... strangers. Up to the point she doesn't even know...

And surely he cannot imagine Joyce's pregnant.

She keeps telling herself the baby's Lonnie's. It cannot be another way around. In 1968, she has a girl.

Jim is 38 when he comes back to Hawkins — it's 1980. He hates to watch the happy family; he knows Joyce isn't happy at all, but that girl. Sarah would have been 9 and Joyce's girl is just a little older, a 12 years old spitfire. Funny little thing, she is. And she hates her father to the guts. Everytime she can, she leaves the house, running into the woods. Her older brother tries to keep her but it's just — she's wild. A little rebel.

When Jim finds her the first time, running all alone in the street, crying an ocean, he immediately recognizes her. Jim takes her to the Benny's Burger, gets her a hot dog and fries, and a coke. She keeps talking, and talking, and talking — about her family, school and all the things no one in her family seem to care about ("Lonnie's fighting with Johnny, and mom's fighting with Lonnie and no one ever see me. This is good, can you buy me more sometime?")

He feel in love that night. He didn't get to be a father to Sarah... but she desperately needs one. So he talks to Joyce and keeps telling her it's alright. "Listen, that's a mess, I can see that. But I'm glad to help. If your daughter needs a safe place... just, you know where to find me."

And she does find him. The girl spends half of her nights at Jim's, mostly when her father comes home drunk enough to take it out on her, too. Jonathan is tough — he really doesn't want to deal with an old Chief, nor to be saved from his own father. But she's just a child.

Jim buys a VHS player. And a second toothbrush. She is small enough to take the couch. He can't cook to save his life, but finds out he's willing to learn — she can't eat pizza every fucking night, for god's sake. He helps her with math homework. Teachers are used to him coming to pick her up at school.

She calls him dad at school, speaking to her classmates. They know her as the Chief's daughter. Joyce doesn't mind explaing, she's done with keeping the appearance. "Jim is my dearest friend" she says, buying grocieres at the store, her youngest running around the shop, showing her the last pack of coloring pencils he wants for his next birthday. "He's always been there for my girl, and she just loves him like a daughter would."

He calls her peach. She's fine with it. And she should be at that age where kids get embarrassed by their own parents, but she jump out of his Hawkins Police pick-up with such pride before entering school — he couldn't be happier about that.

He lectures her about that danger of drugs, and alcohol and boys at the beginning of her first high school year. Now she's embarrassed. "I'd rather talk with mom about that, if you don't mind..." he nods, silently. "But thanks anyway, I love you too, dad."

It's the first time she said that. Jim doesn't get any sleep that night. He hadn't realize just how much he cared about her — it wasn't a matter of blood anymore, she was his daughter. Not Sarah, not a sort of surrogate for his own loss — his kid. She was her own person and he loved her.

He teaches her to drive. But she definetly improves with Jonathan, he can't be really patient about it.

She loves her brothers, really — they are just different. Like, there is something, somewhere... she can't wrap her head around it, but it's there. They are family just not the same family, perhaps. There is Joyce in her eyes, and in her smiles, but nothing of Lonnie. Even though she can see his nose on Jonathan's face, and his lips on Will's. The way he used to walk, bouncing around just like Johnny does. And the way he used to hums rock music, sometimes — just like Will's habits. She does not. None of this. She's quiet, and loves old movies, and checkered shirts, and coffee. No coffee in the Byers house, but tons of it in Jim's trailer.

And it all comes around when she gets a fever. Appendicites. Joyce and Jonathan rushes her to the hospital, they call him from the public phone. "Peach's getting operated right now — please, can you come?"

He's never left the Police station faster. And the doctors say they need blood — "Type 0 is rare. We don't have any bags available at the moment, but she needs a transfusion to recover as quickly as possible" the doctor explains.

Thank god Jim's there because the next day, when she opens her eyes, she asks about him too. He's slept in the hospital room, Joyce says, in case she woke up. But then, the doctor delivers the complete blood tests. They made sure about blood type compatibility and everything else, even though it was predictable — after all, she is his daughter.

And that's where all the knots come home to roost. Jim turns pale. He and Joyce exchange an eloquent look. He swallows. "My daughter — sure, but you mean that I... that we..."

Everything goes back to that 1967 summer night, to those beers, a joint shared on the sofa. Life couldn't get any stranger, right?

#chief jim hopper #hopper!reader #Dad Jim Hopper #jim hopper #joyce byers #jonathan byers #will byres #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #Jim hopper headcanons #Joyce Byers headcanons #jopper #jim hopper headcanons #Jopper headcanons #joyce byers headcanons

[marvelslut16]

Meeting Hop for the first time

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Wheeler!reader (platonic at this stage)

Synopsis: Overwhelmed 14 year old (Y/N) sneaks out of her house and runs into recently returned Officer Hopper, and they unload on each other in the early hours of the morning.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Swearing maybe? But none that I can think of.

Author's note: OMG I'm alive and so is this series? Who would of thunk it? These 10 hour days are kicking my ass, by the time I get home from work I'm too tired to write and I'm creatively drained. But I'm making a conscious effort to post more. So wish me good luck.

Everything is so loud: Holly screaming from the room next to mine, and the wails crackling loudly through the baby monitor attached to my Mom’s hip; Nancy listening to her Kate Bush’s The Dreaming cassette for the millionth time- far too loudly- to drown out the sound of Holly’s cries; Mike is practically screaming as his action figures fight in a life or death battle in his room; and my mom is calling for my dad to make a bottle for Holly and all dad does is turn the TV up a notch higher every time she calls down to him, pretending he doesn’t hear her.

Even in the dead of the night the house is too loud, my mind echoes the day's activities, and my brain hurts from all of the studying I secluded myself in my room to focus on. It’s hard to breathe when I think of all of the things I have to do. I have to wake up early tomorrow to make everyone breakfast since mom is still healing from having Holly, then I have to get Mike and Nancy up and to the table, fix Holly a bottle, feed burp and change her, quickly scarf down what’s left of breakfast, clean the dishes, get dressed for school, make it to the bus stop in time, go to school, come home, take a turn with Holly, help with dinner, clean the dishes, shower and then finally do homework into the early hours of the morning. 

I close my copy of the Catcher in the Rye and set my pencil down as I finish the first draft of my AP English essay on the theme of maintaining happiness and keeping up appearances that are clearly shown in the story. My open window and the cool breeze blowing in isn’t providing me with enough fresh air to breathe properly and to stop my rising panic. After a good five minutes of debating, I sneak out of the house for the first time.

I debate walking all the way to Jonathan’s house, but there’s no way Joyce wouldn’t tell mom if she caught me there in the middle of the night or sneaking out in the early hours of the morning. Well later in the morning, given that it's almost two already. I aimlessly walk for about ten minutes before I end up at the neighborhood park. It's been ages since I have been there in a capacity that isn’t watching my younger siblings. I breathe in the fresh air, plopping down on a swing and soak in the quiet and peaceful early hours of the morning. 

“What do we have here?” a gruff voice from behind startles me a few moments later. I jump from my spot on the swing and turn to look at the owner of the voice, getting my legs ready to run back to the house if I’m in danger. 

But instead I’m greeted by the most handsome man I have ever seen, he looks to be in his mid thirties, close to six and a half feet, he’s sporting a little stubble on his face, his blondish looking hair covered by his hat, and he’s wearing a Hawking police uniform. He must be the big city detective everyones been talking about, the one that just moved back to town. 

“Um, hi,”  I answer timidly, unsure if he and his big city ways will arrest me for breaking curfew. 

“What brings you to the park in the middle of the night?” the man asks, sitting down on the swing next to the one I’ve just abandoned. 

“I uh- I just wanted to get out of the house for a little while. It feels like my baby sister is always screaming, and then everyone else in the house gets louder to compete with her. I just wanted a break from the noise and from endless homework.” I’m not quite sure why I’m sharing everything with him, but it feels good to get it off my chest. I haven’t even told Jonathan, he’s been too consumed with cheering Will up after another broken promise from Lonnie. 

“Oh, so you must be the (Y/N) Wheeler, the one that just led Hawkins high to their first ever Scholastic Decathlon, and won.”

“I see my reputation precedes me,” I huff out, annoyed that that’s all anyone ever knows me as, the freakishly smart freshman.  

“Well you were in the newspaper for it,” I roll my eyes at his sly smile. “Your face was the first thing to greet me when I opened my newspaper on my first day back.”

“So you must be Jim Hopper, the war hero and big city detective,” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“I see my reputation precedes me too,” his whole body shakes when he laughs. 

“Well, when someone actually gets out of this town, people talk when they decide to come back.”

“Where are you planning to escape to after graduation?” he asks, and I don’t blame him. Anybody who has the chance usually runs, and with my intelligence I’m a shoo in at almost any University I could dream of, so it’s only natural to assume that I’ll run too. 

“I’m actually planning on staying here,” I sit back down on the swing and start to push myself back and forth. “Ever since I was four and I could read my picture books on my own, everyone assumed that I was meant for great things. My mom forced me to do more, to do better, and when I was old enough she forced me to join every academic club I could. I never got to be a kid, I never got to be in ballet like Nancy, and I couldn’t play with toys like Mike. I was a genius who’s meant to do great things, just something for my parents to brag about when they go to dinner parties. 

They put me on this pedestal, and I constantly feel like I’ll fall off of it the moment I do something to disappoint them. My mom expects me to be a doctor or a lawyer, or some big wig in a fortune 500 company. And no one has ever bothered to ask me what I want, what I like to do. I don’t even know what I like to do, I don’t have time for hobbies- if I’m not at school or doing homework I’m taking care of my little siblings. I just want them to realize that I’m not some perfect jewel that they can show off, I’m a person who’s bound to mess up and who deserves to have her own life and do what she wants to do.”

“The people here put me on a pedestal too,” he says after a minute, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette and lighter. “Back when I was your age I played football, I was the youngest starting quarterback in Hawkins High history.”

“You led the Tiger to their first ever football championship, they still have the trophy front and center in a glass case,” he shakes his head before lighting his cigarette. 

“The people in this town, my coach especially, expected me to play college ball, and I thought about it for a while, only disappointed everyone when I saw what was going on in ‘Nam and decided to enlist. But then they all expected me to be some brave hero, and I ain’t. I was just someone who wanted to see justice. So I went to New York and became a police officer there, and the people here thought highly of me ‘cause I was some fancy big city cop.”

“You still went on to do amazing things, you never really disappointed anyone,” I stare off at the monkey bars in front of me. “I know I’ll disappoint everyone, especially my mom, when I don’t go to any of the schools she has picked out for me. If I’m not their little genius, I’m nothing to them.”

“They ain’t worth your time if that’s all they see you as, even if they are your parents,” he tosses his now finished cigarette. “You have a good head on your shoulders, you’re bound to do good things, no matter what you choose to do after graduation.”

“Ya know, you’re a really good listener, and strangely easy to talk to,” I fight the tears that cloud my eyes, this complete stranger has made me feel more seen than my parents ever have. 

“Could you tell my ex wife that?” he cracks a small grin. 

“And you’re funny too?” I giggle. “I wasn’t expecting that with how intimidating you looked when you first caught me, I thought you were going to arrest me for breaking curfew.”

“If I catch you again, I may just have to,” he stands from the swing with a groan. “C’mon I’ll drive you home, ‘ll be sure to keep the lights off and go slow so none of your nosey neighbors notice.”

“Thank you,” I smile at him, forever grateful to him for listening to me tonight. “Have you thought about going on a higher pedestal and becoming the Chief of police? You’re a lot smarter and kinder than the rest of the idiots in that station.”

“I’ll have to start kissing the Mayor's ass,” I giggle again and thank him as he opens the passenger side door for me.

The car ride is spent in silence, with the exception of giving him directions here and there. He waits until I’ve climbed up the trellis and slip back into my room before he drives off, turning his lights back on at the end of the street. I sleep soundly that night for the first time in a long while, it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders and I feel lighter, freer and happier. 

CFTF tags: @letaliabane @ilovethatforyou @gay-forspace @ffantasylandd @iwamaye2 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @l0ve-0f-my-life @moonstarsandsongs @euphoniumpets @noshi-chan @astream-ofconsciousness @rentheanonymous @southsideacademythings @peter-beter-barker @tinynshykitten @captainstilinskis @krazykatkay456 @sara-stark-rogers @jayybear @lolitagirly02 @wolfieellsworld @lolacolaempath @idkitsrandxm @agirlinherhead @miss-goldenweek @gaspyghosttt @sharp-cheekbones-locked @stitchattacks @tomshelbystits @piper570 @kaylahat @evyiione @strbyallycow @bigenergy777 @unatempesta-dipensieri @minispice-1

#can't fight this feeling #stranger things #jim hopper x wheeler!reader #jim hopper x reader #stranger things imagine #jim hopper #jim hopper imagine

[evil-ontheinside]

Friends & family byler fic recs!

all I know at the end of the day by @strangerange1s

Holly thinks that she likes Will the best from all his friends. Lucas and Dustin are kind, but there’s something about Will that makes Holly feel happier. Maybe it’s because he lets her borrow whatever toys or crayons he’s brought to their house. Maybe it’s because he absent-mindedly plays with her hair when she’s close to him, and it feels nice.

Maybe it’s because Mike smiles the most when Will is around.

Or, in which Holly observes her older brother's relationship with his best friend. (And maybe they get Holly'd along the way.)

Dustin Henderson, the Scientific Method, and Homosexuality by crow_of_crimes (Theyna_Shipper)

Dustin Henderson is, if nothing else, a firm believer in the scientific method. As a bug collector since age 4, an aspiring computer scientist since 5th grade, a member of Hawkins A/V since 6th grade, a science camp attendee since 7th grade, and a boy with a lifelong passion for science, he recognizes its principles: careful observation, study, and peer review.

So when strange things begin to happen in Hawkins, that fall outside the usual nature of strange things that happen in Hawkins, he returns to his roots to find the answers. After all, the scientific method applies to social science, too. And if any observation ever needed careful dissection, it was this one.

Or: Dustin Henderson applies the scientific method to figure out why two of his best friends have been acting so strangely.

The Darkest Eyes by @light-lanterne

1988.

It’s a year after the gate to the Upside Down was closed for the last time, and the people of Hawkins are trying to readjust to normal life. Some of them went to college, some others are just finishing high school, and all of them are trying to figure out how to move forward after fighting to stay alive for so long. For the most part, they are doing fine. And Jim Hopper couldn’t be happier: he married the woman of his dreams, his daughter is safe and happy, and he has two amazing boys to look after now.

There’s only one pesky little problem in his life. Someone he sometimes wishes he could have thrown through the gate right before it closed, never to be seen again: Mike Wheeler, who has somehow managed to sneak into his life again and, even worse, who Hopper has started to not hate.

What has his life come to?

or: a semi canon-compliant character study of mike wheeler, his unaddressed trauma and his relationship with will byers, told through the eyes of a very tired jim hopper who can’t help but to become attached to the boy who keeps dating his children.

the yellow box by @zombiewheeler

Holly watches from afar as Mike Wheeler slowly comes to terms with his love for Will Byers.

why you are always alone by @willow-lark

Poor Mike Wheeler, Vecna condescends. You lie to yourself. You lie to your friends. You are the worst kind of person—a conformist, trying to pretend it doesn’t eat at you like it does.

“You don’t know anything,” Mike cries out, voice cold and strangled.

You’re not a kid anymore, Michael. What did you think, really? That you were never going to have to buck up and face it?

Or, Mike Wheeler gets the Nico di Angelo treatment.

Smalltown Boy of Hawkins by @withoutanynamefics

After the Byers family leaves, Mike is left with feelings and thoughts he rather wouldn't face. Unfortunately for him, there are times when you have to confront your fears to be able to finally breathe.

@bylerficrecweek

#and another one wuhu #I really like these fics even though it took me a while to find all of them oof #I hope ppl won't mind me tagging them #and don't forget to check the tags as usual before you read anything :) #even though these are totally worth it: safety comes first! #bylerficrecweek2023 #byler #stranger things #fic rec

[thatlittlered]

A Better Time Will Come | Jim Hopper

Summary: Jim accepts Flo’s proposal for a replacement as a last measure, but never once realizes quite what that entails.

Read previous chapters 

“So you’re staying?”

“Yeah, I guess, if everything goes according to plan.”

“So now the plan is to spend the rest of your life doing paperwork in the middle of nowhereapolis, huh?”

“I’ve always enjoyed office work, it’s calm.”

“You mean repetitive.”

“I like repetitive. I’m just really tired, things are nice here.”

“Again, I think you mean you like Mr. Chief of Police and his hot mustache. The one that’s middle aged and has a schoolchild, by the way. He’s stealing you from me.”

“First of all, I only mentioned his mustache once. Come on! Secondly, your points stand, but it’s not like anything is going to happen.”

“Even if he stops being your boss?”

“I-I’m done with this conversation actually, I have to check on dinner. Also, middle-aged sounds so bad, he doesn’t look or feel middle-aged.”

You know her well enough to know she’s smiling slyly over the phone, “And how does he feel?”

“I’m putting down the phone!”

“Fine, let me know when you find out!”

“Bye-bye, love you.”

“Bye-bye, you friend-abandoning slut. Love you too.”

You would be lying if you said you haven’t already thought about the parameters of all of this. His age, his status, the existence of El – however lovely she may be. Everything is complicated.

It’s not like you’re choosing to stay for Chief Hopper, but it’s an added benefit.

You just don’t know how to take advantage yet.

Jim notices a shift in your behavior. It’s your last week in the station and whilst he thought you would be sealing your exit with generous smiles and even more generous plates of food handed around. Instead, you’re mostly floating around, handling tasks and avoiding his office.

His eyes catch yours when you come in to pick up some papers and you smile, but it feels off. He thanks you gently, his gaze following you all the way back to your desk without your knowledge.

Five pm comes painfully slowly, and so does six and seven. You stay longer, as usual; there are always things to do and you don’t want to leave any loose ends, especially now that you’re leaving. When Jim finally hangs it up for the day, he is surprised to find out you left without saying goodbye.

The precinct is near empty, so it makes even less sense that you chose today of all days to break a month-long habit. Something is way off and he gets sickeningly worried when he finds your car still in the parking lot, parked further away than usual and hidden in darkness away from the streetlights.

A hand on his gun, he walks up to it slowly, only to find you still in it.

He calls out your name but you still don’t see him; music blasting in the car. His fist banging on your window finally gets your attention and scares you half to death. You roll down the window and invite him in, ‘Girls on Film’ now buzzing quietly in the background. His presence fills your tiny car while he settles in the passenger seat, his long legs barely fitting.

He looks so sweet.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“No, it’s fine. Sorry for scaring you.”

You give a half-smile, “Did you need something?”

He looks tired, sad almost, but you write it off as a hard day’s work and your rather uncomfortable current situation.

“No-no, I just got a little worried, that’s all. Is your car not running or something?”

“Nope, I’m just hanging around, listening to music.” your hand points to the cassette player and you finally pause the music, “My aunt sleeps a lot these days and I don’t want to bother her.”

Jim nods and runs a hand through his beard, scratching lightly. The air is unreasonably tense.

“Should’ve picked a safer spot, it’s too dark here.”

His concern makes you laugh for the first time this week.

“I’m outside the police station, that’s the safest place to be.”

He chuckles too; eyes meeting yours.

“And now you’re here as well. Feels pretty safe to me.” The man chokes on thin air.

His breathing is heavy and his voice lower than usual, “Right, I should leave you to it then.”

“You can stay. Unless El is waiting for you…”

“She’s at Joyce’s house.”

“Joyce?”

“Byers. Joyce Byers; the mother of one of her friends.”

“Right. Is she your friend?”

It is absolutely not your place to ask this and you suddenly shiver with shame, as if a schoolgirl caught in her crush. The thought of him judging you seems unbearable.

“I-I guess so. Guess I’m staying too.”

His fingers touch the carton of cigarettes poking out from his pocket, but he quickly retreats.

“It’s okay if you want to smoke. I don’t mind.”

He smiles and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it in one smooth movement. It is the epitome of charm, the death of restraints.

“You want to turn the music back on?”

You do so and the next song comes on. You pretend not to notice Jim stealing glances at you or the way his hand lies restless on his thigh, almost twitching. It is a sharp contrast to his other side that gracefully moves the cigarette to and back from his lips. So characteristic of Jim Hopper, you think, to teeter between borderline arrogance and timidity.

“Which song is that?”

“It’s the same group; I’m not sure about the name though. It’s pretty new; my friend made me the tape before I left. Do you want me to check the back?”

He smirks and if you didn’t trust him so much, you’d think he’s mocking you, “No, it’s fine.”

“You don’t like this type of music, do you?”

“I don’t dislike it. I just don’t know what kids listen to these days.”

“That makes you sound so old!”

You love how heartily you make him laugh.

“I am compared to you.”

“I’m not nearly young enough for you to say that.”

The laughing fades out, slow breaths taking over with a very unfitting beat in the background.

“You are not.” in all his insecurity, Jim still knows when he’s being flirted with, “This would be a very good time for me to kiss you.”

“But you won’t do it.”

He looks at you longingly, inhaling smoke to soothe what can’t be soothed. His leg is shaking, you can tell, as he glances at the last two cars driving away in the parking lot.

“No, I won’t.”

You gently reach over and touch his hand, silently telling him to hand you the cigarette. Your lips touch where his had been a moment before. You smell like him now.

“That’s alright, a better time will come.”

Series Masterlist.

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#stranger things #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #david harbour #the replacement

[saltypiratepunk]

Weird (sort of...?) take.

I've been thinking about some people saying that all the lines in season 4, vol 2 of Stranger Things about Hopper not being fat anymore are kind of fatphobic.

Warning ahead, I'm not here to convince you otherwise, I'm not really sure myself what those were supposed to mean (if they had a meaning, ofc).

Nevertheless, that was not what I saw while watching. It seemed pretty much in character to me, for Hopper at least, I don't know where my opinion stands on Mike' contribution, tho.

Look, two times out of three it was Hopper himself who mentioned his weight loss. It doesn't mean anything yet, yes, but stick with me, I'm getting to my point from here.

To understand what I'm trying to say, you need to remember what kind of a person Jim Hopper is.

He is a protector, a guardian. He'll do everything in his power to protect people he loves from any sort of pain and suffer, even if it is his own pain.

Moreover, Jim Hopper doesn't do feelings. He is a very closed off person. We see proof of that throughout the whole show. We know by now how he reacts when it comes to his emotions.

Doubtless, those scenes with said lines were emotional to him, all three of them.

The first time he joked about his 'new' appearance was after reuniting with Joyce when she sees him without a shirt and asks him 'what did they do to you?'. Meaning scars all over his body (cause, you know, I'm pretty sure she already noticed his weight loss by now). At this moment you can clearly hear an immense amount of pain in her voice, see it in her eyes and across her face, which obviously catches Hop's attention.

And what does he do? He acts according to his nature — he activates his usual protective mode and tries to change the subject, to joke it off like it does not matter.

In addition to it, you can see by Joyce's reaction not only the evidence of her disapproval of his statement but that she also knows what he's doing. She knows him that well, knows that he is trying to shield her and himself from a terrible pain he's been through. She knows he's not ready to talk and decides not to push him on it just yet.

The second time it was absolutely the same, but instead of Joyce it was his daughter, his babygirl. The one he's supposed protect, not the other way around.

In their reunion scene she hasn't even seen his scars and was already worried sick about the way he looked — like he's fading away, tired and beaten up. The second she tries to mention it, her fears and worries, he immediately interrupts her, turns this whole situation into a joke, and once again activating his protective father mode.

Because that is what you do when going through trauma, at least that's what someone like Hopper does — someone who had difficulty sharing his feelings long before his hellish time in prison and a nightmare of a 'life' he had there, someone who most of the times would acknowledge his emotions and feelings only when it's almost if not too late, someone who never let's anyone take care of him.

As to why exactly I read that in said lines —I relate to this situation and character in particular a lot. I'm also not a feelings person. I, myself, do the same thing when it comes to my disorder or previous trauma. As soon as someone mentions my condition I too immediately shut down. I make a joke out of it so to avoid discussing this further, because it's uncomfortable and way too much on it's own. While some people would pity you, others would be filled with worry. Thus, I think Hopper did what he did for the very same reason — to as always protect everyone around him from pain and to avoid dealing with his own pain.

As for Mike, I don't know whether or not it was fatphobic, but his joke sort of aligned with their whole dynamic regardless.

So, when I first saw vol 2, those jokes didn't strike me as fatphobic ones. That part looked like an example of one of the most common ways of coping with trauma. It looked like Hopper was just not ready to talk about it and, who knows, maybe he never will be, and, yeah, he jokes about it so it would not hurt anyone any more than it already did.

I really hope that is what they meant with those 'jokes', because I can't be disappointed in yet another show like this.

#plus i don't think david harbour would agree to potebtial fatphobic jokes towards his character #if there was no reason for it #by 'reason' i mean he's character's... well.... character #david is known for sometimes arguing with the duffers #about what's best for his character from time to time #anyway I'm not trying to justify anyone #it's just a theory #that i like more to duffers and writers and actors being fatphobic #tw fatphobia #stranger things: season 4 #stranger things headcanons #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things netflix #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things season 4 #chief jim hopper #jim hopper #joyce byers #joyce stranger things #joyce x hopper #joyce and hopper #el hopper #hopper x eleven #eleven hopper #eleven #jane hopper #mike weeler #the duffer brothers #btw nothing but love for chubby hopper

[strangerficsx]

CHAPTER EIGHT | THE MIND FLAYER

gif not mine. credit to owner.

word count: 2,375

In the woods, Jennifer and Steve, along with the kids continue down the train tracks, grouped together. Tears well up in her eyes again, that gut wrenching feeling of leaving Wilhelmina at the junkyard made Jennifer sick to her stomach, looking down at her bloodsoaked self.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks.

“Yes. He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“He was tiny two days ago.” 

“Well, he’s molted three times already.” 

“Malted?” Steve asks.

“Molted.” Dustin says. “Shed his skin to make room for growth like hornworms.” 

“W... when is he gonna molt again?” Jennifer stammers, cutting in. 

“It’s gotta be soon. When he does, he’ll be fully grown, ot close to it. And so will his friends.” 

“Yeah, and he’s gonna eat a lot more than just cats.” 

Lucas stops Dustin.

“Wait. A cat?” He asks. “Dart ate a cat?”

“What? No.” Dustin lies. 

What are you talking about? He ate Mews.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max asks. 

“It’s Dustin’s cat.” 

“I knew it! You kept him!” 

Dustin tried to deny it, beginning to argue as Jennifer and Steve look at each other annoyed. Max joins in on the argument too as the brunette female and Steve take a few steps forward, noticing something. 

“Hey guys,” Steve calls. “Guys!” 

Jennifer furrows her brows at the kids before looking back. Steve slings the spiked bat over his shoulder and Jennifer wipes away the tears, heading toward the sound. Lucas and Dustin follow behind as Max lingers on the tracks before jogging after the other's. Later, the five of them tramp through a clearing. Steve, Lucas, and Dustin shine flashlights ahead as they come to a hilltop overlooking the dense forest and glowing city lights beyond. 

“I don’t see him.” 

Lucas peers through his binoculars. 

“It's the lab. They were going back home.” 

Jennifer stands there, grabbing Steve’s arm, worried what might happen next as they continue, walking down the slope leading towards Hawkins Laboratory. The enter through the group of shrubs and trees, moving closer before walking out as someone in the distance calls out to them. Flashlight beams from the woods as Jennifer, Steve and the kids exit, stepping into view. They see Nancy and Jonathan. 

“Steve?” They ask in unison.

“Nancy?” Jennifer asks. 

“Jonathan,” Dustin says. 

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asks. 

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks. 

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.” 

“They’re not in there, are they?” 

“We’re not sure.” 

“Why?” 

In the distance, monsters screech as Steve and Jennifer look over at the darkened lab. Soon everyone turns too. The emergency lights turn on and off. A look of dread settles on Jonathan’s face. 

“Shit.” Jennifer curses, stepping towards it. 

Nancy turns to Jennifer, looking her over. "What happened to you?" She asks.

"Wilhelmina... she-- she died back there after being attacked by those... those creatures."

"Oh, Jennifer. I'm sorry for your loss."

Soon indistinct chatter is heard amongst everyone as Jennifer rolls her tired eyes. Nancy pushes past them, joining Jennifer in her spot. 

“The powers back,” She says. 

The chatter stops as the group rushes toward the guard booth, the light now on as Jonatha repeatedly pushes the button as Dustin pushes his way into the booth. He pushes the button too, but nothing happens. Sudden;y the gate opens as the curly haired kid grins. Jonathan and Nancy enter his parked car, driving past the open gate as Jennifer and Steve along with Max, Lucas, and Dustin wait along the outside. 

Max spots something as two vehicles approach them. They move out of the way as Jonathan’s car speeds past them. Hopper’s SUV comes to a stop in front of them. Steve ushers the three kids inside as he helps Jennifer in, he gets in as well. The vehicle zooms off. 

——

At the Byers residence, the porch light glows on the front porch as Jim’s SUV, Jonathan’s car and Bob’s car are parked outside. Inside, Will lays on the couch as Jonathan strokes his head. Jennifer and Steve watch Nancy rests her hand on his shoulder tenderly as Hopper taks on the phone. Jennifer pulls Steve into the kitchen where they wait, holding onto each other. The kids sit around the table. 

“They didn’t believe, did they?” 

“We’ll see.” He sternly says. 

“”We’ll see?” We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike shouts.

“We stay here, and wait for help.” He says, not changing his expression before leaving the kitchen. 

The dark haired boy’s brows furrow as he goes over to the games. He lifts a blue 3D cube from the top and gazes at it with a somber expression. 

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?” Mike says as the kids including Steve and Jennifer look at him, leaning against the counter top. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?” 

“Yeah,” Lucas and Dustin say at the same time. 

Mike sets the cube on the kitchen table. “We can’t let him die in vain.” 

“Well, what do you wanna do, Mike?” Dustin asks. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demo-dogs on our own.” 

“Demo-dogs?” Max asks, armed crossed. 

They stare at the red haired female. 

“Demogorgon, dogs. Together, Demo-dogs. It’s like a compound, play on words—” 

“Okay.” Max cuts him off. 

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…” 

“But there’s an army now.” Lucas says. 

“Precisely.”

“His army.” 

Jennifer and Steve look toward Mike, brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” Steve and Jennifer ask in unison. 

“His army. If we stop him, we could stop his army too.” 

Mike rushes into Will’s room, and shows the other’s the drawing of the shadow monster. 

“The shadow monster.” 

“It got Will on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” 

“And so the virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?” 

“To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.” 

“Woah. Slow down.” 

Mike continues. 

“Okay, so, the shadow monsters inside everything. And if the vines feel something like, then so does Will.” 

“And so does Dart. 

“Like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive mind.” 

“The hive mind?” Jennifer asks. 

“A collective consciousness. It’s a super-organism.” 

“And this is the thing that controls everything.” 

“It’s the brain,” Jennifer finishes. 

“Like the mind flayer.” 

“What?” Everyone asks, confused. 

Dustin takes out the game manual as Everyone from Steve and Jennifer to Lucas, Mike and Max to Hopper stand around the kitchen table. The dimly lit kitchen light shines above the book. 

“What the hell is it?” 

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn't even know it’s true home.” He explains, continuing. 

“Oh, my god, none of this is real. This is just a kids’ game.” Hopper groans. 

“No, it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids. And unless you  know something we don’t, then this is the best metaphor—” 

“Analogy.” 

“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.” 

“Okay, so this mind flamer thing—”

“Flayer. Mind flayer.” 

Jennifer sighs before continuing. 

“What does it want?” 

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.” 

Steve stammers. “Like the Germans?”

“Uh, the Nazis?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis.” 

“Uh… If the Nazis were from another dimension, totally. Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself.” 

“It wants to spread and take over other dimensions.”

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.” 

“That's great. That’s really great. Jesus!” Steve says, concerned. 

He turns away as Jennifer watches before following after him. She watches as her boyfriend paces back and forth before stopping him, cupping his cheeks. Jennifer holds Steve’s gaze. 

“Maybe we should do our date now since the world is ending.” 

“No, not while demo-dogs are after us, or this mind flayer thing. We will get to that date, even if it’s in another life.” 

He presses their lips together, holding each other for a while before pulling away. She brings him into her arms before heading back to the table. 

“…We win.” Nancy says. 

“Theoretically.” 

Hopper grabs the book from Nancy’s hand as he glances at the page. 

“Great. So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?”

“No Fire— No Fireballs.” Dustin chuckles. “Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because… because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains, and the mind flayer, it… it… it likes brains. It's just a game. It’s a game.”

“What the hell are we doing here?” 

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” 

“We are!”

“How are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns.” 

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hop shouts. 

“We know it’s already killed everybody in that lab.” 

“We know the monsters are gonna molt again.” 

“And we know that it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.” 

“They’re right.” Joyce says, voice almost hoarse. 

Everyone turns to joyce. “We have to kill it..” 

Jim Hopper approaches Joyce. 

“I want to kill it.” She says.

“Me, too.” 

“I—” Joyce begins.

“Me, too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.” 

“No. But he does.” 

Mike walks toward Will. The other’s close behind, looking at Will. 

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.” 

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.” 

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

Later, Jim drags a lawnmower and tosses it in the yard. He drops a cardboard box outside then returns to the shed. Little by little, he unloads the compost, leaving a large pile of junk in the backyard. Inside the shed, Nancy pulls off strips of duct tape as Steve seccurs a brown tarp over the wall. 

“Hey.” She says, catching his attention. “I saw you and Jennifer earlier in the kitchen. Her hands cupping your face — are you… are you guys, like, dating now?” 

“Yeah,” He says, resting his arm above and looking down. “We are. Is there something wrong?” 

“No, no. Of course not. I’m… I’m happy for you both. You guys look great together.”

Steve steps on the ladder. Later, Jennifer, Steve, Nancy and the kids smother the walls with cardboard, tin foil, newspaper and other materials as Nancy wraps one of the support posts as Max sets a chair covered in cardboard and duct tape against it. She puts another chair opposite the first.

In the house, Dustin stares out the kitchen window anxiously as he removes his hat, running his hand over his thick curly hair, passing Nancy. She is standing against the wall with her arms crossed, looking iver.

In the living room, Steve takes practice swings with the bat as Jennifer sits on the couch, watching and waiting. In the hallway, Lucas and Max sit across from each other. Steve stops swinging as Jennifer stands as he lowers the bat.

Before she could say anything, the lights above begin flickering as Nancy, Jennifer, Steve and Dustin look toward the backyard. 

Sometime later, Jim bursts through the back door as he searches for something, grabbing a pen and an empty envelope, he rushes toward the table and sits down. He sighs. 

“What happened?” 

“I think he’s talking, just not with words.” Jim speaks, jotting a series of dots and a dash on the paper. 

“What is that?” 

“Morse code,” The kids and Jennifer say together. 

“H-E-R-E. Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.

Hopper gives Joyce a look. Inside, the radio beeps as Dustin writes it down, Lucas shouts to Nancy each letter. 

C-L-O-S-E G-A-T-E

The gang in the kitchen reviewed the message. 

“Close gate,” They say together. 

Everyone perks up at the ringing phone and rushes toward it. Dustin grabs the phone and puts it back on the hook. Soon Jennifer walks over, grunting as she rips it off the wall and hurls it to the floor.

“Do you think he heard that?” 

“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere. Right?” 

They all look towards Steve in their current standing positions. In the living room, the kids look outside. They clear the way and hold the hunting rifle towards Jonathan. 

“Do you know how to use this?” 

“What?” 

Can you use this?” He asks. 

“I can,” Jennifer says. 

Jim tosses Jennifer the hunting rifle as she slides the bolt. The gun cocks. Standing with the whole group, Hopper and Jennifer aim their rifles at the living room windows. Screeches echo in the distance. Steve grips the handle of his bat as Lucas aims his slingshot. Mike wields a candle stick. They stare out the window before turning to the dining room window.

The bushes rustle outside the window as the group waits edgily. Snarling, they turn to the living room window, weapons ready. The monster groans as loud thuds are heard, the monster screeches again before it abruptly stops. Suddenly, a demo-dog is thrown into the living room as it slides across the floor lifeless.

It screeches as everyone screams in fear, holding their stances. His rifle trained on the creature, Hopper approaches slowly towards. He prods the creature with his foot as his head flops back.

He relaxes his grip on the gun. Soon, everyone swivels around as the door creaks, the bolt unlocks. Lucas, Jennifer and Hopper raise their weapons. The chief steps through them to the front of the group. The door chain slides off its track. Creaking open as someone enters. Their jeans are rolled up above their dirty sneakers.

Hopper lowers his gun. Eleven stands before them in dark clothes. Her eyes darken and hair slicked back, blood drips from her nose.

As the group gapes at her with shocked expressions, Mike moves towards the front beside the chief. Tears well in his eyes as they lock onto hers. The corners of his mouth curl up and Eleven returns his wistful smile.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

El has a nightmare and Hop has a night shift, so she can't talk to him about it and goes to Billy instead. Imagine Jim coming home in the morning and finding El sleeping in her brother's bed taking almost all the space and the covers, while Billy is about to fall off with one leg and one arm touching the floor. And Hop can feel his heart melt because this is the cutest thing he's ever seen.

HI I’M the one melting bc this is so adorable!! ♥ i’ve been bundled into a ball of fluff over the idea of this.

One of my absolute FAVORITE things that really cemented me into the “I live and breathe for Billy’s found family and you can pry it from my cold dead hands” club was fics where Billy looks out for El. like, something about this big rough and tough and emotionally vulnerable boy noticing and helping out this small but also feisty and emotionally vulnerable girl just drives me CRAZy ♥

their dynamic is TOO GOOD. they’re so similar and both deal with the same kinds of traumas and call me crazy, but I don’t think Billy likes the idea of other people going through what he went through. I think he likes to THINK he does, I think he likes to both silently and very loudly wish ill of people- usually bullies or assholes who think they’re clever. Think they’re better than him bc they have whatever constitutes as a “happy home life”. He hates those people. Those are the people he (almost) wishes could feel the pain he’s felt his whole life… the pain of trying to be as small as possible, to take up as little space as possible, and still get slapped for it.

The thing is… he never actually means it. He likes to think that if he was given the choice, he could throw his life and all of the pain that’s come with it onto some poor, unsuspecting soul… but somehow he knows he would never. Could never. It’s an upsetting thought for him.

And he most definitely wouldn’t want anything plaguing a little kid… especially this little girl that Billy shares a home with now.

Bc Billy’s no stranger to nightmares, and within about 3 days of moving into the Hopper household, he knows El isn’t either. Bc he wakes up to shrieks. It startles him awake, gets his heart racing like crazy, and sets his entire body on fire because…

Because he hears heavy footsteps, rushing somewhere on the wooden floors. 

He’s awake but his mind is still processing it so his vision is blurry and all he sees is a large figure barreling towards the only room- El’s room, and the door slams open and the shrieks get louder and Billy’s livid.

And he jumps into action, gracelessly because he’s still drunk with sleep and exhaustion (because those first few weeks in the cabin are rough on him.) and he rushes to El’s room, running himself into the doorway, leaning heavily on it, eyes scanning wildly to stop this because holy shit he didn’t think this man was like this but then again how could he be so stupid as to think this man wasn’t a poison to society like every man Billy’s ever met and-

And….

And El is crying and Billy’s vision is getting less blurry and she’s… she’s hugging Hop. Hop is on the bed, arms wrapped tight around the little bundle of curls and tears that are shivering against his chest, and Hop shoots a look up to Billy in the doorway. He must look like a fire being doused.

You okay? Hop mouths, patting El’s head.

Billy’s blinking hard, trying to make sure he knows exactly what he’s looking at- make sure he knows that there’s no danger here.

El starts mumbling something… something about monsters and labs and Papa and…

Billy leaves. Stumbles his way back to the couch and flops back down and falls into a restless sleep of his own monster.

And it takes a bit for him to realize he may never get used to it. Every time he sees something other than reality. Every time his mind is somewhere that isn’t the present. Every time Billy rushes, heart beating violently, over to the room, leaning heavily on the door, ready to fight, mind just racing with thoughts of: oh no, it finally happened. He finally did it. He’s finally bored of me. He finally moved on to her...

Every time Billy snaps back to the present, taking note of the girl having brown hair rather than red…

But Billy just never gets used to it. He never gets comfortable. It’s happened a countless number of times and every time he’s nervous and today, when El screams, Billy is up in a second, stumbling on wobbly legs that’re heavy with sleep over to her room to see her standing and crying and wobbling around herself. She’s wandering around her room, bumping into her bedframe and her dresser and her wall because she has her hands covering her eyes in fear.

Billy grabs hold of her, embracing her in his arms, keeping her still. He feels her shake as his sleep hazy mind slowly clears.

“Monsters.” is all she can say but it’s all Billy needs to hear.

So he guides her out of her bedroom and into the living room to sit on his bed in the corner. He lets her talk for a minute about what she saw and how it makes her feel and Billy just lets her before he tells her it’s “not real” and that she doesn’t have to be scared. He doesn’t quite know what else to say. Even though he has nightmares too, he’s not sure what he’d want to hear. It works, nonetheless. She breathes a little more even and nods and curls herself up in the corner of his bed while he goes to grab her a glass of milk and an extra blanket.

When Billy notices she’s not shaking anymore, he figures this is the perfect time to guide her back to her bed and try to get back to sleep himself, but the second he opens his mouth she beats him to it.

“Can you sing?”

His brows furrow deeply. “Huh?”

“Sing? Can you sing a song?”

“Uhhh… I don’t really sing, kiddo.”

“Yes you do. Sometimes you sing.”

“Yeah but-”

“Please?”

And it’s the puppy dog eyes and the pouting lip and the fact that her face is still puffy from crying that really seals the deal.

So he gives her the extra blanket and lets her get cozy and tries for the life of him to think of something to sing- some slow song he’s heard her listen to or that he’s heard and knows the lyrics to or that, maybe possibly, his mom used to sing for him when he was a kid… but even those are far and distant and muffled and it’s stupid but there’s only one song and it’s only the chorus that he can think of.

So…. well…

He makes sure she’s comfy and he lays back in the bed a bit and he twists his face up a bit and sings rather awkwardly-

“Take me down to the paradise city… where the grass is green… and the girls are pretty… oh won’t you please take me home?”

She snuggles in more, burying her face into his arm and grabbing hold of it. He sighs a little, trying his damnedest to sing the chorus slowly and in some kind of tune that resembles a lullaby.

Somehow, for some reason, it does work- with only a couple repetitions of the chorus, El is fully calm and asleep against Billy’s arm, her own arms wrapped around it like it’s a teddy bear. The smile Billy gives to her is small and soft and involuntary, and he keeps singing the chorus, softer and softer and even softer, until he too is asleep.

And just imagine Hop’s heartwarming surprise when he comes into the cabin after a grueling and tiring shift to find El spread like a semi-broken starfish across the bed, the blankets mostly wrapped around her and yet with a hand still gripping onto the arm of Billy, who is half off the bed and yet still fully passed out.

He chuckles to himself as he pulls off his boots, makes some coffee for Billy to wake up to, and gets ready for some shut eye of his own.

And imagine Hop’s even more… perhaps confusing surprise when Guns and Roses’ Paradise City comes on the radio one night when they’re all driving back from the Byers’ home and El shouts out “lullaby!”

He shoots Billy a very confused look, to which the boy just shrugs and makes his best “I have no idea what she’s talking about and don’t ask me” face.

#y'all..... i'm back on my bullshit in this new year #i've been writing SO MUCH this month who is she!!! lol #Billy Hargrove #Jim Hopper #Eleven #El Hopper #found family #fluff #ask #angst #only a little bit #i'm gonna post once a week for now even though i've got asks written out! #bc i'm trying not to burn through everything i've done lmaooooo #i'm also working on a fic while doing these #i'm deciding what day i was gonna do fridays #but then i didn't end up posting yesterday lmaooo #anyway here take this!! #i'll be answering more as consistently as possible!! #sorry i've been gone so long i've been so stressed and upset jweiwa;fawjif;wa #i was gonnaput this under a Read More so i'm not a jerk about long posts and LOOK AT ME not using a read more #someone tell me if read mores are good or bad i still don't know proper etiquette lmaoooo #halp

[bombshellbois]

Code 314

@harringroveweekoflove

Harringrove Week of Love Day 3: Car Sex

Rating: M 

Words: 2688

Summary: The story of Billy’s least favorite arrest for indecent exposure ever. And it’s all Steve’s fault.

There’s only one interrogation room in the Hawkins police station. That means Billy is left handcuffed to Jim Hopper’s desk while Steve is in the interrogation room. It’s dark in the station, aside from the yellow light framing the shade over the interrogation room window, and the lamp on Hopper’s desk. Fucking small towns. This is, without a doubt, the most unprofessional arrest Billy has ever had. 

Hopper emerges from the interrogation room and slams the door behind him. No Steve. Billy expects Hopper will sit down and pick up his phone and call Mommy and Daddy Harrington to come pick up their kid. Then it will be up to Billy to deal with whatever the fallout is. Hopefully Hopper didn’t make Harrington cry or anything, so Billy can still sort of respect him after.

Hopper does not reach for his phone.

No, he throws his hat on the desk and drops down into the chair hard enough that it scoots back several inches on the wooden floor. Folds an arm on the desk and leans in close to Billy, looking him square in the eye. He looks tired and sort of pissed. 

“Steve Harrington is a goddamn pain in the ass.”

“I know the feeling.” Billy has worn that look many a time, and exclusively from dealing with Steve. He can actually kind of sympathize with the cops on this one. “But if what he told you sounds like bullshit, he’s being straight with you this time.”

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Hopper picks up his clipboard where there’s a mostly blank form for citations. Only the top is filled in. ‘Code 314- Indecent Exposure’  “I’m not gonna finish filling this out.”

“I’m sure Steve will appreciate that. He’d be the talk of the country club.” Billy suspects that’s not a gift to Steve, though. For a cop, Hopper is okay. He’s let Billy off with 14 warnings for speeding so far. Neil has gotten 2 speeding tickets and had his car towed for illegal parking. 

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell happened and why it was a bad idea.” Hopper pulls the sheet free and crumbles it into a ball, tossing it into the trash can. “Then I can tick off the little box in my conscience that says you won’t do it again and we can all go home.”

Billy rolls his eyes. Jesus, he’s never going to be able to look Hopper in the eye again. “Come on, man. Didn’t Steve tell you?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“Steve wasn’t lying. We really weren’t having sex in the middle of the woods. We were… look, I know it sounds like a lie, but we were... it was like therapy.”

Hopper’s eye twitches a little. “Police observation evidence would suggest otherwise.”

“I know what it looked like, but admit it. You can’t actually say you saw any dicks,” Billy pushes. 

“Just… tell me what you two were doing out there,” Hopper sighs. 

“What are any teenagers doing out there? You know what that spot is for.” Billy sighs and sits back in his chair. “But if you really want the gory details…”

***

“Would you stop wiggling?” Billy leans down and grabs the bottle of lube he shoved under the driver’s seat and flips the cap open. 

“I’m not wiggling,” Steve huffs, wiggling to try and… do something? Billy isn’t sure because it’s the back seat of the Camaro. There’s pretty much no room, and Steve sure as hell isn’t gonna find more by squirming. He’s just gonna make things harder.

Billy pauses and pinches Steve’s thigh, hard enough to get a hiss out of him. “Fucking hold still. I’m gonna make a goddamn mess all over the backseat if I have to try and catch you after I put this stuff on my fingers.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he makes a ‘go on’ motion with his hand and then tucks an arm under his head. Billy grabs Steve’s ankle and braces it on his own shoulder. Steve squirms and drops it, hooking it around his waist instead. 

“Harrington. I’m not gonna guess where your asshole is, asshole. Not when it’s my seats under your ass. Work with me here.”

Steve groans unhappily but lets Billy hook an arm under his knee and haul his leg back up. “It’s too small back here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s fucking small, Princess. It’s the back of a fucking muscle car. Who’s fault is it that we can’t use your house?”

Steve’s face twinges a little. Fuck. Billy has his dick out, he’s hard, he’s got his boyfriend naked from the waist down, and now Harrington is gonna fondle his conscience. It works because yeah, that was probably a little below the belt. 

“Sorry, babe. It’s the blue balls talking. When’s the last time we went a week without fucking?” He leans in to press an apology kiss to Steve’s lips, until Steve whines. He actually whines, long and pitiful, and grabs Billy’s shoulder. 

“Too far. Bending it too far.”

Billy drops his eyes to the very naked leg braced against his shoulder. “What? I’ve practically had you bent in half before.” 

***

“Okay, stop. Stop!” Hopper waves his hands, looking a little pallid in his desk lamp. “That’s way more information than I needed.”

“You asked what we were doing up there,” Billy points out. “We were trying to fuck in my car. Like every other couple that parks up there.”

“But you weren’t in your car.” Hopper taps his desk emphatically. “There’s a fine line, Hargrove. Stay in your car and you’re fine.”

“We would have if Steve had followed his stupid recovery regimen like he was supposed to!”

“Recovery for what?” Hopper takes a breath, holding up his hands. Billy really should let that Byers woman know that this guy tries to follow her advice. “Just… go back to where this all started.”

“You’re the boss.”

***

“Practicing late again, Harrington?” Billy asks, glancing over as Steve comes into the showers. It’s just the two of them at this hour, and it’s been a good few days since he really ragged on him properly. How convenient. Steve just glares at him and dips his head under the water. “Ever thought about maybe just being good at the game?”

“Ever thought about shutting up, Hargrove? I hear it works wonders for people with your condition.”

Billy grins, holding his tongue between his teeth. That pisses Steve off endlessly. “My condition? Go on, gimme the punchline.”

“Being an asshole.”

“Someone is feisty today. Did—”

***

“No. No, not where you two started,” Hopper interrupts him. “Skip ahead to where this incident started.”

“Oh.” Billy shrugs. “Okay. It was the end of basketball season and we celebrated by me fucking Steve until he couldn’t walk straight.” He ignores Hopper’s heavy sigh. “Literally, too. But then the coach made us do hurdles the day after. That’s where it all kind of went downhill.”

***

Billy knows before Tommy even starts jeering that Steve is hurt. He lays there a second too long in the red dust of the track, the fallen hurdle tangled between his legs. Billy can tell that asshole is trying to figure out how to get up without looking hurt, because that’s the shit Harrington worries about. Sighing, he ‘accidentally’ slams his elbow back into Tommy’s stomach as he chucks his water cup into the trash before jogging out onto the track.

“Regular gym class hero, aren’t you?” he mutters, hooking his hands under Steve’s armpits and hauling him to his feet. 

“I’m fine,” Steve protests while trying not to put weight on his right leg. It’s a sort of pained hopping that’s not very convincing of being fine.

“Yeah, you look totally great.” Billy pulls Steve’s arm around his shoulders and waves to the coach. “Hey! I’m taking Harrington to the nurse!” he calls, and doesn’t pause to wait for a hall pass or whatever. He’s got Steve hopping around like the hurt asshole he is. That’s better than any hall pass out there as far as permission goes. 

Billy is surprised that when he dumps Steve onto the bed in the nurse’s station, he makes another pained noise and shifts to lay down. Then shifts again onto his side.

“What hurts?” he asks, sitting on the low, plastic stool that’s always by the wall. He figured they had an ankle or knee issue here, but that didn’t seem right.

Steve rest a hand on his right leg. “Thigh. Something in the back of it.” 

“Sounds like a hamstring injury,” Nurse Agnes says, bustling in and jamming a thermometer into Steve’s mouth. Nothing like a fever to pull a hamstring, Billy guesses. “Which leg, Mr. Harrington?” 

“Right,” Steve mumbles around the thermometer. 

“Don’t talk,” she huffs. 

“But you asked me—”

“On your back, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve grunts and shifts onto his back, looking over at Billy for solidarity. Billy just grins and splays his legs further on his stool, kicking one leg up to brace on the side of the infirmary desk. Steve turns the same shade of red he gets after a good hour in practice. He makes a vague swatting motion that probably means ‘stop it’ but he sure doesn’t look away. Billy just runs his tongue over his teeth at him, getting the red to turn two shades darker. 

Agnes’s diagnostic technique appears to be trying to shove Steve’s leg up towards his chest and seeing when he starts making pained sounds. Then she whips the thermometer out of his mouth and sweeps out of the room, tutting and shaking the thermometer and muttering about Steve running too warm. 

“I was in PE,” Steve calls after her, grabbing the pillow out from under his head and chucking it at Billy. “Asshole,” he hisses.

“Can’t help it. Kinda hot watching you get fondled by a sixty-something old woman,” Billy teases, tucking the pillow between his own head and the wall. “Thought she was gonna mount you any second.”

“Me too,” Steve admits, dropping his head back down on the stripe of sanitary paper on the bed. “It was terrifying.”

***

“The official diagnosis was ‘hamstring injury and a mild fever, young man.’” Billy says, leaning on the heel of his hand as best he can while he’s handcuffed. “She put him on ice for 20 minutes, gave him some cheesy printout about stretches, and told him to give it a few weeks to heal.”

Hopper unlocks Billy from the cuffs, and then unlocks them from the chair as well, securing them back to his belt. Billy has the vague urge to get up and walk out just because he technically can and that’s his normal response to authority. He does have the good sense not to piss off one of the few okay adults in Hawkins, though, and not to ditch his boyfriend at the police station. 

“Right. So Steve hurts himself and you just… forgot?” Hopper raises his eyebrows. “I’m sure you’re a more considerate boyfriend than that.”

Billy raises his eyebrows right back. “Based on… what?”

“Call it a hunch.”

Billy sighs and rubs his wrist. “Whatever you say, man. Anyway, that was over a month ago. I forgot about it once he was allowed back into the normal classes at gym. See, we don’t usually fuck in my car. Steve’s shitty parents are usually out of town. I thought the guy was secretly an orphan for a solid month after I met him because they were never around…”

***

“Why the fuck are your parents here for so long?” Billy groans, sitting low in the driver’s seat of the parked Camaro, letting his head loll out the window while he smokes a cigarette. 

Steve lights his own cigarette and rolls the passenger side window down. “For my birthday.”

Billy frowns and raises his aviator sunglasses, glancing across the car. “It’s not your birthday.”

“I know. But next month there’s a conference in Tokyo or something.” Steve blows a mouthful of smoke out of the car. 

“Okay, but… next month isn’t your birthday either.”

“I know.” 

Billy thinks about also pointing out that since they’ve been home, they don’t appear to actually be doing anything with Steve. He and Billy spend all their time in Billy’s car, complaining about not having a parent-free place for sex anymore. But he figures Steve realizes that already too. 

“Can’t believe we’re reduced to car sex at the local make-out point,” Billy sighs instead. “Surrounded by the other horny masses.” 

Steve looks out the window. It’s turning dusky already, and making it hard to see the other cars parked among the trees. Pretty soon it’ll be too dark to see any of them, until they finish doing the deed and turn on the headlights to drive away, one by one. “We could always wait for my parents to leave. Might be another few weeks though.”

Billy stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Get in the back seat and get your pants off, Princess.”

***

“Skip the sex part,” Hopper interrupts him. “I don’t need to hear that again. Just skip to the part I drove up to.”

“Okay, so remember that stupid little care sheet the nurse gave Steve?” Billy shoots a glare at the closed door of the interrogation room. “Guess who didn’t do any of his stupid fucking stretching exercises?”

***

Billy kind of hates his life right now. And his boyfriend. His boyfriend who has probably locked his fucking hamstring up because he thought sitting on ice for two goddamn days was as good as actually stretching. 

“You’re the worst fucking athlete in the world,” he growls, grabbing Steve’s leg by the knee, kneeling in between his legs with their hips wedged together. It manages to be completely unsexy because Steve is an asshole, though. Billy is kind of mad at his own dick for staying hard through all of this. 

“Oh fuck you. You don’t get to talk when you’re having the stupidest overreaction in the world,” Steve snaps, gesturing around vaguely from where he’s laying in the grass in his t-shirt and boxers. “Everyone is probably watching us.”

“Everyone is probably fucking because they didn’t fuck up their leg as soon as their sport season was over.” Billy sets a hand along the back of Steve’s thigh and leans his weight in gradually. “So now I get to fucking play physical therapist with your ass until it loosens back up.”

Steve hisses at the slow stretch when his thigh is barely past vertical. “My ass is fine, thank you.”

“Not if I can’t get my fingers into it, it’s not. It’s useless. Your ass is useless right now, Harrington.”

***

“Okay.” Hopper taps the desk like he’s surrendering a wrestling match. “Okay. That’s where I came by on my sweep. We’re done here. Just… stop talking. And do that in the gym from now on. Wearing more than just your underwear.”

Billy stands up and stretches. “Told you Steve was telling you the truth. Can I have him back now?”

Hopper gets up from his desk and grabs his hat. “Steve didn’t tell me anything.”

Billy blinks at Hopper’s back. Now there was a surprise. 

Hopper opens the door to the interrogation room, spilling yellow light out onto the floor. Billy can hear Steve’s voice inside. 

“Unless you’re here to give me that phone call, we have nothing to talk about.”

There’s a heavy sigh from Hopper and the sound of cuffs being unlocked. “Please get out and go home.”

Steve steps out of the interrogation room, blinking around at the dark interior and rubbing his wrists. “Billy!” He scrambles over and grabs Billy’s arm. “I didn’t say anything. If Hopper said I did, he was lying. I never sold you out.”

“You can’t sell me out when we actually didn’t do anything wrong,” Billy sighs, resting a hand on Steve’s head and turning him towards the door. “But thanks. Come on, Princess. I’ll take you home before the phone here rings and it’s your mom.”

Hopper shuts the station door firmly behind them.

#my writing #harringroveweekoflove #harringrove #billy/steve #poor Hopper #he did not sign up for this #he's here for the inter-dimensional monsters #and the evil scientists #and even the Russians getting involved #he does not need to investigate anything involving this much teenage sex

[writingjoycebyers]

Could you write a small drabble about jopper being protective of eachother 🥺

Joyce Byers x Jim Hopper - Friend, old friend - a song fic

(this fic is based on the prompt above (I hope this counts as protective) and the song slow mover by Angie McMahon. Comments and reblogs make my writing heart go boom boom - you know how it works. love feedback and suggestion on how to do it better. or ideas. or thoughts. or whatever <3)

Warnings: contains mature topics like a hint of cheating, alcohol consumption, very light nsfw (superficial) and angst. 18+ as always

Friend, old friend, it's 4 AM

What are we doing in the street?

They walk through the empty streets of Hawkins, a cold february night in 1969, snow falling onto them, and they don‘t even notice the small, cold drops on their heads, shoulders and hands - they‘re far too gone to notice, too drunk to freeze and too sober to dance in the snow the way they used to when they were kids in Jim‘s parents backyard. They‘d left the bar an hour ago, to roam the empty streets at night, talking and walking like old friends do.

„Yeah, he‘s with my mother tonight. Jon loves it there.“, Joyce adds as Jim asks her where she‘s left her son - a reasonable question considering Joyce seemed to have time and space to get wasted all on her own on a saturday night. „She lets him have chocolate before dinner and all.“

„And...“, Jim adds, unable to finish his questioning words when Joyce interrupts him. „I‘ve got no clue, and I kind of don‘t want to know.“, Joyce finishes his sentence, anticipating the question underlying the small word „and“ and the tone of her friend‘s voice. No clue, he might aswell be screwing some girl in her very own wedding bed. Lonnie.

„Joyce, does he even care for the kid?“, Hopper suddenly blurts out, without warning, and boy — he does sound angry. He stops, and grabs her by the shoulders. It‘s a sudden move for him, impulsive and way more serious than she had experienced him at the bar, in their heavy, drunken laughter above the tears behind her brown eyes.

„He... even asked me if I want to try for another one.“, Joyce confessed, a whisper in the cold as she tried to avoid locking eyes with Jim. She had become bad at eye contact lately. Her hand found his on her shoulder. He had not actually asked, had rather joked around that if they tried for another boy, then maybe he‘d finally have a kid that liked what he‘d call boys stuff. Joyce swallowed hard. Lonnie didn‘t want to make another baby for love. No, he was being selfish. And still that idea had sparked a tiny bit of hope inside of her, a hope that he‘d maybe change? Change for the sake of another kid? But she couldn‘t tell Hopper. So she told him some kind of half hearted truth.

„Are you hungry?“, she suddenly asked as his grip on her shoulders began to losen. She nodded into the direction of a 24 hour diner, the neon lights behind them illuminating his silhouette from behind. She loved his silhouette.

I don't want to buy fried chicken

I wish that I was going to sleep

„Nah...I just... Joyce.“, he mumbled, his articulation heavy and sloppy from the drinks he had drowned. The „Joyce“ said it all. He knew she was trying to distract him, knew she did not want to talk about Lonnie, that she did not want to stay with that man and neither would want to leave him. He‘d take her with him, he thinks, take her with him into his small apartment in NYC, around the corner of his police training station, and hold her tight every night in his way too small bed, and never let go again. He‘d done that once too often already. But then, his mind flashes to the woman he‘s dating, Diane, tall and blonde, a woman he hasn‘t thought of much during his visit home, if he was honest with himself. A small bundle of guilt starts to form in his gut, and he isn‘t sure if he‘s sick from the alcohol, or if it really is his conscience.

„Just tired.“, he mumbles then, and none of his thoughts were said.

So they start to make their way towards Jim‘s parents‘ house, the way they had done it so often as teenagers just a couple of years ago. A lifetime ago. Joyce keeps on walking next to him although she lives on the opposite side of town now, that small house on the edge of the woods. Where was home?

Quietly she follows Jim up to the corner of the street, because walking next to him feels a lot like home to her, so familar with his warmth, his unique scent, his height towering above her. He was home, after all.

They stop by the STOP-sign, a flashing one that stands across the streets of Jim‘s birth place, and as if the stop sign was meant for them, they don‘t go any further. It‘s quiet, a winter night, and Joyce feels like she can hear the snow flakes falling. Jim‘s presence feels warm, and life feels cold - and she does not know where to go. She‘s got a house to live in, but no home to go to sleep at. No peace within her own four walls.

„So, when are you heading back to the city?“, she asks shyly after some moments of silence.

„Tomorrow night.“, he replies, staring down on the floor, and then back up to the sign as a car goes by and it starts blinking.

„So.. last night here, huh?“, Joyce whispers, her face turned to the side because for some reason, for some damn reason she can‘t look him in the eye again.

The silence gets louder, the blinking feels harsher, the cold gets colder. She wraps her arms around herself as she feels the dizziness of the alcohol get washed away by the bleak midwinter air and her thoughts. The last night - their last chance?

Her thoughts drift off as she feels his gaze on her, feels him get closer and wrap his arms around her. They stand there in a deep, intimate hug and she asks herself what if - what if she was married to him, what if the house on the other side of the street was theirs, their home? What if they entered the living room, warmed themselves up with a deep, long kiss? God, she wanted to kiss him. His breath is warming the side of her face while he still hugged her, and she turns her head a bit, looking up. The last time they had been this close to kissing had been another lifetime ago. His eyes look dark and warm in contrast to the cold wind around them.

„You wanna come inside with me?“, he suddenly suggests. She answers with a small nod.

And I don't want to kiss you

Underneath that flashing sign

They enter his parents‘ place and although it is huge and empty, it is welcoming and cozy. The furniture hasn‘t changed. The atmosphere hasn‘t changed. There‘s a small light on the table by the sofa, and the room looks so large without Jim‘s family in it. She looks at him, and he looks sad. „It is okay to miss them.“, she whispers softly, her small hand on his back as they stand in the middle of the living room. The tension they had shared under the flashing light is gone for a second. They‘re old friends again. She rubs his back, and feels like she was wrong, feels as if she had interpreted it all the wrong way. Maybe he needed a friend, not a lover. Or maybe he needed time?

She can sense his tension underneath her hand, and she‘s glad she can be close to him in some way, somehow. Joyce looks around the familiar room, the old clock on the wall telling her the night might soon be coming to an end, and she gets sad herself. Their last chance - gone?

But then, suddenly, Jim wakes up from his short, griefing trance. Without a warning he pulls her close by the hand that had just comforted him, and as he leans down his lips find hers. There‘s no time to lose. They kiss and it feels both wrong and right, both hot and cold. She‘s overwhelmed by the passion behind his kiss, the force behind his touch as he scoops her up into his arms and her legs wrap around his waist like they belong there. „Jim...slow down. I want to feel this.“, she suddenly whispers. Suddenly, the night feels still young as he takes her by the hand and they walk up the stairs to his childhood bedroom

What's the hurry? We're not ready

We've got plenty of time

Some time later, minutes, hours, moments, they‘re a mess of limbs and words and kisses and Joyce could swear to God she has never felt like this before. He‘s rushed, but gentle, as if he‘s trying to make up for the lost time, and she‘s the other side of the magnet, slow and sensual and they make the perfect mixture. It takes a bit of talking, a bit of trust, and then they arrive - arrive at home.

For the rest of the night, Jim holds her tight in his way too small bed for once and he never wants to let her go again. They look into each other‘s eyes as they lay entangled, none of them daring to losen the grip, and Joyce feels tired, but she does not want to miss a second of this. Their last chance, remember?

„Get some sleep.“, he murmurs with a soft kiss onto the top of her head. „I‘m not leaving your side tonight.“, he adds as he strokes her hair, caresses it gently, stroking away the thoughts of guilt that come creeping up in Joyce‘s mind as she lays in the arms of another man, indulging in the afterglow of a forbidden rush of passion and confusion. What about him, she thinks, is there someone he should feel guilty for now?

Joyce couldn‘t know what the future would hold for him, a wife, a marriage and a daughter. She could only guess. Neither could she know what the future would hold for her, that she would indeed try for another baby with Lonnie and that, in two years or three, she‘d sometimes find herself lying awake late at night, counting the weeks between their little adventure and her blood results from the doctor‘s pregnancy test. It‘d be wishful thinking, maybe, that she wanted her second son to be more like Hopper than Lonnie. Wishful thinking, and a stupid, unprotected adventure.

Maybe you will get married

Maybe fall in love

Could you make me fall asleep

When you're holding me?

Try set me on fire

The morning after, Joyce awakes with her head on his chest and his arms neatly placed around his torso. Jim is fast asleep. Memories of the night come flashing back in front of her inner eye. She‘s Lonnie Byers wife. She is Lonnie Byers god damn wife in another man‘s bed. And she‘d always thought she was better than Lonnie.

Quietly, she leaves the bed and tiptoes to her clothes lying on the floor on the other side of the room. For the first time, she catches a glance of Jim‘s old room. Nothing has changed. She gets dressed as silently as possible, staring at a picture on the wall - him and her during Prom Night, in front of the Gym. She should have known earlier that this was more than friendship. She had known earlier, actually, and they had always danced around it, danced like it was prom night - until yesterday.

There's someone else but I twist all of

His words and he twists mine

At last, Joyce puts on her jacket, slips into her shoes and opens the old wooden door as carefully as she can. One last look towards the bed with a peacefully sleeping Jim in it, and she‘s out the door. He had promised last night he wouldn‘t leave her side, but this was a promise she herself could not make. In this moment, she felt as if they had to go backt to the separate paths they had chosen at some point, whether they were right or wrong, drunk or sober.

She waves him goodbye as the front door of Jim‘s parent‘s house closes behind her. A wave he doesn’t see.

Joyce would never return to that place again — She‘d not return home for more than 10 years after that. And when she, in 1983, finally does return home, entering the Chief of Police‘s office one morning, she‘ll be too panicked to notice that it‘s home, too broken to see that he‘s still there beneath the flashing sign. Waiting.

So I'll have to let him go

We sometimes fit, but we always lie

And he thinks we could make it work

But only when he's drunk

You think you could help me swim

But I've already sunk

_____________

Thanks for reading. Please drop me a line if you‘ve got thoughts on this. Or if you wanna chat about joyce/st/jopper. My inbox is open.<3

#jopper #joyce byers #young jopper #jim hopper #headcanon #hopper x joyce #joyce x hopper #winona ryder #jopper fic #stranger things #slowmover #joyce byers x jim hopper #hopper #joyce hopper #joyce stranger things #joyce byers headcanon #jim hopper x joyce byers #teenage jopper #adult jopper #writingjoycebyers #joyce horowitz #joyce #winona #st fanfic #fanfiction #ask #prompts #byers

[harringrovetrashrat]

Two Bears, One Weasel

Jim was sipping his coffee, paper out in front of him, trying to pretend he didn’t have to leave in the next 30 minutes, when he heard yelling. He sighed, setting down his coffee and folding up the paper, leaving a hefty tip, before grabbing his hat and stepping outside. What he saw made his blood boil.

Neil Hargrove stood in front of his son, who stood in front of Steve Harrington. The man was shouting, shoving into his son’s space, and Steve looked murderous. The boy was close to making a mistake, Jim could see it in his eyes, and he walked towards the trio, Neil’s words becoming clearer as he approached.

“--I don’t give a shit what excuse you wanna make, Billy,” Neil snapped, grabbing Billy by the elbow and pulling him closer. The teen just turned his head, face set and grim. “Look at me,” Neil demanded. “I know what I saw and I warned you, you disgusting faggot--”

“Alright, Neil,” he said, looming as he approached. His anger simmered below his skin, just waiting for the chance to be let out. Neil spun around, almost lighting up when he saw Hopper. Like he thought he’d be on his side of whatever bull shit he spewed. “I need you to let go of your son.” Neil stepped back, running a hand over his hair, pretending he wasn’t just yelling abuse at his child.

“Sorry, Chief,” he said, placatingly. “My son and I were having a disagreement, it got a little out of hand.” He smiled, wide and fake, grabbing Billy’s shoulder roughly and pulling him away from Steve, who scoffed and switched between glaring daggers at Neil and giving Jim a look that said Do Something. Neil sent a sharp angry look towards Steve, but wiped it off in time to send Jim another slimy smile. “No worries, we’ll finish this at home. Sorry to bother.” Jim didn’t miss the way Billy flinched when Neil’s fingers clamped harder.

“Fuck that!” Steve burst out, unable to control himself. “A disagreement,” he scoffed again. “You lay a hand on him--” Jim placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder, sighing.

“Steve, go inside, please,” he said, giving the boy a warning look. Steve flushed, looked ready to fight. “Go. Inside.” Steve snarled quietly and stomped inside, slamming the door after him.

“What a disrespectful young man,” Neil said, but Jim could hear the disgust in his voice. Could see the dangerous glint in his eyes. It made Jim crack his knuckles unconsciously. Which brought Neil’s attention back to him. “We’ll be on our way. Billy,” he snapped, shoving him towards his truck. “Get in and wait while I talk to the Chief.” Billy looked like he wanted to do anything but.

“Billy,” Jim said, voice even, “Don’t you take another step. I wanna get your side of what happened here.” Neil bristled, anger sparking in his eyes. Billy looked between them, stock still.

“I said it was just a disagreement,” he pushed. Jim moved closer, looking down his nose at the weasley man.

“Do most disagreements end with you manhandling your son?” His voice was sharp, pointed, and he knew Neil was starting to get the message. The man crossed his arms, puffing himself up.

“You know my son,” he replied. “Sometimes he just needs a firm hand.”

“Is there a reason Steve Harrington is nearly breaking my plates with the force of cutting up his pancakes?” Jim turned when he heard Benny’s voice, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Just having a talk with Mr. Hargrove here.” When he made eye contact, and Benny had that calm collected look, like a man who asked a question he knew the answer to, Jim let out a sigh. “Everything’s fine.” Benny ignored him, coming to stand next to him, arms crossed as he stared Neil down.

“You sure? I don’t like nonsense in my diner, Hop, you know that.” He flared his nostrils slightly.

“Benny--”

“If you don’t like nonsense in your diner, I’d suggest kicking that boy out,” Neil said, gesturing to where Steve was glaring out the window. Benny’s eye twitched and Hopper ran a hand over his face.

“And what does that mean?” Benny asked.

“I found him and my son,” his face twisted with disgust and fury, “Kissing, and you know what fags are like. Can’t help spreading their disease. Which is why,” he grabbed Billy again, trying to steer him towards the truck, “I’m taking my son home to have a talk.” Jim could feel the hot rage pouring off of Benny, could hear him breathing harshly through his nose, and he wondered if Neil was just dumb or distracted. “I’m sure you two can appreciate why,” he gave them a conspiratorial look.

“I don’t think I get what you mean,” Benny said, voice low and tense. Jim sucked his cheeks in, trying to remember he was still in uniform.

“Well,” Neil said, tugging Billy forward. The boy looked ready to cry, anger and fear making him shake. Jim saw red start to blur the edges of his vision. “You seem like men’s men. I’m sure you understand the need to stop queers before they spread.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Benny said, taking another step closer, his usual calm and friendly demeanor turning into something stormy and violent. If the way Neil’s brow furrowed was any indication, he was starting to understand things weren’t going the way he was thinking. “I’m supposed to understand your bullshit bigotry because I’m masculine?”

“Bullshit?” Neil hissed. “I know for a fact these boys have been fagging around--” Benny didn’t wait for him to finish, fire igniting as he landed a hard punch to Neil’s cheek. The man staggered, dropping Billy’s arm to catch himself.

“Billy, behind me,” Hopper barked. The boy did as he was told, Neil’s eyes now cold and furious as he watched Billy run. Hopper stared him down. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen, Mr. Hargrove. You’re gonna get in your truck. You’re gonna go home. And if I find out that you’ve laid a hand on your son? I’m going to make a home visit. Out of uniform.” Neil’s face was red and he stood up, pushing into Hopper’s face.

“Is that a threat?” Benny wrapped an arm around Billy’s shoulders, maneuvering him towards the diner.

“No,” Jim replied. “It’s a promise.” Neil blanched and took a step back. Benny stopped, jerking his head to send Billy all the way inside. Neil sniffed, trying to save face.

“Didn’t think two men like you would stand for having fairy scum in your town,” he said cruelly. Before Benny could make it all the way over, face thunderous, Jim finally snapped. He charged forward, grabbing Neil by the scruff of his neck. The man yelled in shock and pain as Hopper slammed him against the hood of his truck.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” he hissed, slamming Neil again when the man struggled. “The only people I don’t want in my town, are the ones who think hitting their kids for something they can’t control is acceptable. And from what I hear, you fit that to a T.” He could feel Neil tremble under his hand. “So you’re gonna go home. And you’re never gonna lay a hand on your son again. You get that?” He gave Neil a good shake until the man nodded. Jim let him go and took a step back, crossing his arms. Neil faltered, shooting them a sneer.

“I can’t believe you’d take the side of some cocksucker.” Benny’s eyes darkened again and he moved forward, making Neil flinch.

“You best get moving, Neil,” Jim said, slow and dangerous. “Or these two cocksuckers as you so kindly put it, might have to do something about this bullshit you keep spewing.” Jim motioned to Benny and himself, giving Neil a grin that made him go white. “And trust me, we don’t take kindly to bein’ called names like that.”

“You--!!” His face went red and he yanked his truck open. He paused, one leg hitched up, sneering again.

“Yeah,” Jim called. “And if you think you’ll win this fight, go ahead. Continue it.” Neil blanched again, though the fury never fell from his face. His tires squeaked as he peeled out, Jim and Benny looming together in the parking lot.

Jim sighed and took off his hat, wiping his brow.

“You alright?” Benny gently laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder. His voice was soft, eyes even gentler, and Jim smiled, resting his hand atop his husband’s.

“You know it. I gotta get to work, Flo is gonna give me the tenth degree,” he said with a groan. Benny chuckled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Jim’s lips. “Make sure those boys are okay, would ya?”

“Of course. We got that extra room still fitted up, right?” Jim let out a laugh mixed with a sigh.

“We do, and you can offer it, but I’m sure Billy would much rather stay with Steve than us.” Benny shrugged, giving Jim’s shoulder a squeeze and a rub.

“That may be, but I’m gonna make sure he knows he’s got a safe place with us.” His face turned dark once more, looking after where Neil’s truck had gone. “Do you think he’s gonna listen?”

“No,” Jim sighed. “Not if he’s anything like my father.” He put his hat back on, cupping Benny’s frowning face. “I’ve already pushed it, but, if you thought the inside of Neil’s truck needed some fish guts, maybe under the seat, I might just agree. In theory.”

“That so?” Benny smiled. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #jim hopper #neil hargrove #homophobic language #f slur tw #benny hammond #hopperxbenny

[kingsandsaints]

I feel like not a lot of people consider that whenever we see billy displaying genuine emotion in the show is whenever he's crying. I like the idea of billy letting his guard down in front of steve not being afraid to cry, even over the small things.

Oh BIG TIME! Canon!Billy is one big mask. I’m still rewatching s3 with my sis and it’s honestly so weird to be reminded of what a douche Billy is in the series :p But yes, the only time the mask slips is when he really can’t keep it on and he starts crying. I imagine it would take A Lot before he can cry in front of Steve.

[*record scratch* then I started writing something that became a scene and then there were other scenes and then it basically turned into one of those ‘x times B y’s + 1 time B z’s’ thingies. anyhow, I hope you enjoy]

~ Billy learns to cry in front of people ~

First time it happens, Billy has had a shit day. It probably had something to do with his dad said to him in a fit of anger, something that seemed insignificant at the time, but proved harder to shrug off than he initially thought. He’s irritable. All of him feels as if he’s covered in a thick slime that’s itching and oozing but impossible to scratch off. 

Steve doesn’t notice that Billy is crawling out of his skin and wants to be left alone. After a while of him playfully trying to get Billy’s attention, the guy snaps. Steve’s wide eyes are enough to make Billy’s heart jump in his throat because fuck he’s doing it. He’s lashing out and it’s scared Steve and somewhere from the pit of his stomach comes a mean whisper that tells him that he’s just as bad as his dad. 

He mumbles an excuse and disappears into the bathroom, locks himself up and sits down at the edge of Steve’s bathtub because of course the Harringtons have a big ass tub. As he’s trying to figure out what happened, why he’s feeling this way, he starts to cry. He didn’t know he had to, but now that he does he doesn’t want to stop. After a minute or so he swings his legs across the edge of the tub, shoes and clothes still on, chest shaking and curls up inside it. It feels better, letting the soft whines echo across the tiled walls of the otherwise deadly silent bathroom. He doesn’t know that his crying is loud enough for Steve hear their muffled sounds from across the hall. 

“Billy?“ he says softly as he raps his knuckles on the door. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” Clearly he isn’t. 

When Billy hears Steve’s voice he lets out a wounded wimper and shrinks even deeper into himself. No. No. Steve can’t see him like this. 

 Somehow he hoped that if he ignored Steve long enough that he would eventually forget that Billy was even in there and get back to whatever he was doing. But Steve doesn’t give up and it’s not doing anything for Billy’s blood pressure. 

“Babe? Can you let me in?” 

‘Let him in.’ Steve was asking so much more than simply taking the lock from a bathroom door. 

“Go away,” Billy blubbered into his knees. A pause.

“I can’t hear you.” 

Billy lifts his head, clear his throat and in the most steady voice he can manage he says:

“I wanna be alone for a bit. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

“I can hear you’re upset. I don’t want you to be alone in there.“ 

“Steve-” Billy takes a deep breath of air that seems both too hot and too cold at the same time. “Just give me a second, yeah? I just wanna be alone.” The silence on the other side of the door draws on.

“Okay.” 

After that the quiet returns. When it does, Billy finds that he doesn’t feel the need to cry anymore. Having to negotiate with Steve sort of pulled him back to earth it seemed. He still takes another 10 minutes of quiet contemplation before he gets out of the tub. Then another 5 of looking at himself in the mirror, trying to fix his hair and face to make them say anything other than ‘I just cried in your bathroom like a fucking pussy’. Because that’s what it is, he’s just too sensitive. He needs to man the fuck up. 

Billy stares at his own red-rimmed eyes and thinks ‘what does he even see in you?’ 

It takes one last deep breath before he can finally take the lock from the door. He startles when, upon opening Steve tumbles into the bathroom and hits his head on the tiles. 

“OW! FUCK!” 

“Dude, what the fuck! Are you okay? Have you been here the whole time?” Steve squirms as he rubs the back of his head. His dark hair that is spawled around his head stands out starkly against the tiles.

“I kinda forgot this door opened to the inside, sorry.” His voice is quivering. Billy’s heart drops when he sees tears well up in Steve’s eyes. 

“Fuck, are you okay? Are you bleeding?” Steve pulls his hand back to find that there is no blood.

“I don’t think so,“ he whimpers. 

“Here, let me look.” Billy helps Steve sit up and digs his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, reliefed to find no wound. He’ll probably get a lump but for now there’s nothing there. 

“Seems you’re okay,“ Billy breathes as he pulls back and searches Steve’s face for a sign of hurt. “Are you?“ Steve takes a deep breath and wiped the wetness from his eyes.

“Yeah, should be fine.” He whispers as he rubs his hands dry on his jeans. “What about you though? Are you okay? What was that about just then?” 

Billy doesn’t answer right away. He’s still registering that Steve just passed a few tears and moved on like that was nothing. He didn’t even hide it. It didn’t even seem to occur to him. 

The second time is when they are watching a movie. When Steve wanted to get high and watch a Disney Movie, Billy didn’t expect it to be so sad like fuck did they really have to kill the mama deer? Couldn’t they just let them eat some fucking grass? At some point, Steve turns to Billy and asks:

“Are you crying?” Billy blinks furiously and clears his throat. 

“No,” It still comes out croaky. He’s just tired and a bit woozy and emotional.  Steve laugh is warm and kind. Billy finds that he doesn’t mind Steve’s snickering, especially not after the little squeeze he give to Billy’s thigh. 

“It’s gonna be better from here on, I promise.” He says sweetly. And like that the moment disappears. 

It still feels wrong at times. Crying is a punishment in and of itself, but in front of people is straight up torture. It’s simply not an option. To cry is to show weakness and to show weakness- well, then you die. Billy is pretty sure that’s how these things work. So whenever he is frustrated, it comes out in either rampant anger or silence. He shuts down and finds himself inable to respond to anything. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even exist. At some point Steve learns to leave Billy alone when he gets like this. He often needs to collect his thoughts before he can even begin to think about talking through his feelings. 

After a particularly rough night, Billy stands on Steve’s porch, water pouring from the sky and out of his eyes. As soon as he opens the door, Billy launces himself into Steve’s arms. And Steve catches him. He actually catches him and keeps him up on his feet. His arms fly to Billy’s drenched back and he holds him tight while Billy sobs into his shoulder. 

It’s terrifying. Billy expected Steve to dissolve, to drop him, but Steve is solid and warm and he smells like home. He’s not going away. He’s here. He’s staying and he’s safe. 

“Hey, tiger,” Steve whispers gently as he rubs Billy’s heaving back. “Lets get you out of the rain, yeah? Lets go inside.” 

Steve gives him dry clothes and a blanket and hot chocolate that is more lukewarm than hot because he didn’t put it in the microwave for long enough but Billy still drinks it. Because Steve held him up and Steve is towell drying his hair and Steve isn’t scared of him or put off by his weakness. Steve talks to him like he would otherwise. When he senses that Billy is not in the right headspace to talk about what happened, he does the talking for him, a little monologue to give Billy’s mind something to do. Steve talks about the video store, about the girl Robin has been trying to hit on, about the kids and their shenanigans. He plays with Billy’s hair, scratching at the nape of his neck as Billy sips his drink and when he’s done, Steve takes him upstairs to a bed where he never lets Billy slip out of his hold. 

Years later, at Joyce and Hopper’s wedding, Billy is asked to speech. Or rather, he insisted on giving a speech. After his own dad found out about Steve and kicked him out, the couple took him before Neil could even get Billy’s suitcase out the door. They’ve been better parents to him that his own family ever was. They saw the good in him, gave him a roof, clothes and put him through college. And above anything else, they never made him feel like he was too much to handle, moodswings and all.

Billy starts out playfully and manages to pull a few laughs from the crowd but as he gets serious, his throat closes up, a hand come to his mouth and he has to struggle not to let the dams flow over. Then suddenly there’s a hand on his lower back, the scent of a familiar cologne and a gentle whisper in his ear. 

Hand still on Billy’s back, Steve takes over, speaks the words that Billy can’t get over his lips. It’s a litlle bit embarrasing, to have his boyfriend read out his deepest gratitutes to a room full of people, but Billy can feel nothing but love from the room. He can barely glance in the direction of his adoptive parents because he knows for sure that Joyce is crying and once he sees her tears he’s sure he won’t be able to keep dry. 

As Steve gets to Billy’s favorite part, he takes it back over and forces the words through his narrow throat. He even manages to look the couple in the eye a few times and find that even Jim has a bit of wetness in his eye. 

When he’s done, the crowd errupts into a long withheld applause as Jim and Joyce get out of their seat to embrace their son. Steve pulls Billy into his side and kisses the tears from his cheeks.

“You did good, baby.” He whispers. And Billy almost believes him.  

//

This just became a little ficlet ?? idk how that happened. I don’t know if this was something you wanted but thanks for the ask! I’m usually not the person people come to for headcanons but this was fun! keep em coming!

#harringrove #harringrove headcanon #billy hargrove #steve harrington

[kendallroydefender]

Welcome to Hawkins Hell (Hopper x Reader) Part 2.

Walking out of the office the memories from the previous hour came back to you, subconsciously taking a step closer to Hopper who gave you a sympathetic smile. "What should I do about this?" You asked looking at the smashed door "Should I call the police?“ he chuckled "The police is already here.." he said "Let’s get out of here. I would say you lock the door and go home, and tomorrow someone will think there was a break in or an accident or something. I don’t think it’s good to worry everyone about what really happened." You looked at him for a moment then nodded. You slipped into your coat, took your purse and carefully closed the door, or what was left of it, behind you before you locked it. "Does the diner have surveillance?" Hoper asked while stomping out his cigarette "Hop this is Hawkins no one has any kind of security system." You answered him, he rolled his eyes "Where’s your car?“ he asked looking around the empty parking lot "In the Garage getting repaired. I came here with my bike“ you answered, as soon as you said it he stomped towards the bike and put it on his Blazer. "Come on i don’t let you drive home on this while this thing is out there.“ he gestured towards the woods, so you sat down in the passenger seat of the car.

Driving through Hawkins with the radio on playing softly. You looked out of the window seeing the woods pass by. "Hop?" He hummed "What is happening here?“ he glanced at you "I don’t know Y/n. But I will find out." You nodded as he explained what had happened in the previous days "I could help you.“ you asked him, he turned his head towards you "No! The hell i will do getting you into this" you rolled your eyes "Hey! I need you to promise me to stay out of danger, okay? You are one of the only people that i like in this town, can’t be losing you too." He said sadly in memory of Benny. And you wanted to comfort him and before you knew it you reached out laying your hand on his one that rested on the console between you. You were scared for a second, that was until he closed his fingers around your smaller hand, giving it a squeeze. You stayed like this until the car came to a stop in front of the house you lived in, "When does your shift start tomorrow?" Jim asked "Two pm.“ you answered him "Good I will pick you up at 1:30, that’s okay?“ you furrowed your brows "Jim you don’t have to do this." He huffed "But I want to, I will not have you driving on that bike through the woods with everything going on." You looked down cheeks getting flushed "Okay. But Hopper please be safe." He smiled and you got out of his car, waving at him before closing the door of the apartment building behind you. He stayed a few moments after you had disappeared. He didn’t liked the feeling that had starting to spread in his chest.

You spend your morning watching tv and running errands before Hopper came to pick you up "Hey Chief." You greeted "Hey- you look tired." He answered "Oh that’s how you seduce the women in town? I couldn’t sleep well." He laughed at your joke knowing about his reputation but cringing at the thought of you knowing it too. At the Diner he got out of the car too. You two walked towards the door, taking one deep breath you looked at your co workers "What happened here?" You asked acting shocked, looking back at the door you saw Hopper "inspecting“ it. "Oh Chief! Good that you’re here.“ Polly, the owner called out. You turned back around towards Becky and Charlotte, who had the shift before yours. "Nobody knows, it was like that when we arrived this morning.“ Charlotte raised a eyebrow "But you and the Chief huh?“ she asked smirking "He just drove me here because my bike had a tire this morning.“ she still smirked "The bike is still on his car if you want to investigate.“ you laughed.

With your apron tied around you, you stepped out of the backroom. Hopper sat down at the bar "What can I bring you today Chief?“ you chirped with a grin wich earned a chuckle from the man "Hm how about a coffee and a doughnut?“ he answered. Placing his order infront of him he winked at you. "So Polly since I’m here now should I make a report on your window?“ hopper asked biting into his sweet baked good, but Polly waved him off "Hopper it’s broken glass, nobody was harmed - there’s not even money missing from the register.“ your boss said before adding "It was probably some drunk man stumbling into our Diner and I also believe you have better things to do at the moment.“ she said referring to the missing Will Byers. "I’m just happy Y/n wasn’t here when this happened.“ you smiled at her before briefly glancing at Hopper.

The next few days went by with Hopper driving you, search parties and no news on the missing Child. Hopper always told you in the car what happened the day and what he investigated. Right now he sat at the counter at the diner eating Fries, talking to your co workers while you leaned on the other side of the counter. You all discussed the newest theories about the missing kid while everyone threw in their conspiracies Jim and you glanced at each other from time to time knowing what the reality was. "But what if it was aliens?“ Charlotte chimed in "Why would aliens land in Hawkins?“ you answered back stealing one of Hoppers Fries, "Because nobody would expect it duh?" Charlotte said rolling her eyes at you "I hope it’s not aliens." Hopper mumbled as Polly came out of the back "Of course it’s not Aliens Hopper don’t entertain her ideas.“ she gestured to Charlotte who shrugged. "I‘m gonna get my stuff and then we can leave“ you told your designated driver and went off closely followed by Charlotte "Y/n please i‘m not going to tell anyone but is there really nothing going on?" You furrowed your brows "Charlotte I’m pretty sure there are no aliens in Hawkins.“ "Oh I’m not talking about that..“ she laughed "I mean you and the Chief.“ you rolled your eyes "This again? I already told you-"

"That there’s nothing.“ she finished your sentence "But you two are so cute together and he definitely likes you." You stopped in your tracks "He does not like me.“ she tipped her head to the site "Okay if you say so, but I bet he would say something if I or anyone else here would just eat from his plate and he for sure wouldn’t drive me to work for a week.“ you looked down, there was no way Jim liked you back. You said your goodbyes to Charlotte and walked behind him to the blazer. "Everything’s okay?“ Hopper asked, he had noticed the change in your behavior after coming back. But you didn’t heard him, still thinking about what she said, only snapping out of your thoughts when you ran into him, not realizing that he stopped walking "Oof“ you let out "Sorry I just thought about this whole alien thing.“ you quickly lied, he wasn’t convinced but decided against pressing more. He wanted to speak when the radio in his car went off "Chief? Chief are you there? We found something.“ You looked at him, his face went pale "I‘m here.“ he simply answered "Can you come to the lake at the quarry? It’s the kid.“ Powell said "On my way Hopper said back taking your hand in his once again.

#jim hopper imagine #hopper imagine #hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #stranger things #Jim Hopper