Stranger Things - Imagines

Jim Hopper X Reader - POV

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song POV by Ariana Grande. I hope you all enjoy it.

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains very brief passing mentions of past trauma/ past abuse. If this is going to negatively affect you, please do not read this one. 

Hopper had always thought that sun shone out of your ass. From day dot, he'd made you out to be this precious angel who could do no wrong and to be fair, from where he was standing, it was the truth. You were beyond gentle with him, even when he didn't think he deserved it. And when he'd brought El into your shared home, you'd not even hesitated to treat her as if she was your own. 

In fact, the two of you had bonded far quicker than he had expected and you'd become thick as thieves. He couldn't help but love you more after that. Watching the two of you together, like you were a proper family rather than three broken people brought together by circumstance. 

No, you really were his family. His girls. The only two people he needed in his life. He loved you both more than he could ever make you understand. 

"Hey Princess," he murmured one evening, hanging up his hat on the hook by the door and pausing when he glanced in your direction to find you all tearful on the couch. "What's wrong?" 

When he took a step towards you, you got to your feet, keeping the couch between you. "I'm fine."

"You're crying," he corrected. 

You shook your head. "I'm fine-"

"Y/N," he uttered, keeping his voice as calm as he could manage. He knew how easy it would be to scare you off, especially if you were already upset, and he knew he had a tendency to overreact when it came to you. "Please, Sweetheart, I just want to know what's wrong."

A soft, shaking breath slipped out of you. "It was nothing," you murmured, clearing your throat. "I'm being stupid."

His shoulders slumped at your comment, and he shifted to perch himself on the arm of the couch, watching you with a small frown. "I don't like you using that word, Sweetheart. You aren't stupid."

You hesitated for a moment, blinking away another wave of tears that wanted to fall. "El had Mike here," you murmured. "And we got into an argument because I caught them-" your words trailed off as he tensed slightly. "They were only kissing, Hop. It wasn't a big deal. But I'd told them to keep the door open and they hadn't and I made it into something way bigger than it needed to be and she stormed out." You fell silent for a moment, releasing a shaking breath. "Please don't be mad, Hop. She's just a kid."

He got to his feet slowly, nodding. "I'm not mad," he murmured. "As you said, she's a kid, right? Kids play hooky all the time, right?" You nodded and he held his arms out for you. "I'm more upset that she got you so worked up, Sweetheart."

"I was fine when she left," you uttered as you moved into the safety of his embrace. "But I called Joyce and she hasn't seen her all day. And I called Mrs Wheeler, and Mike isn't home yet. And I thought maybe Steve would know something, so I called Scoops Ahoy, but he hadn't seen her. And-"

"Sweetheart, she's a smart kid; she'll be alright." He paused for a moment, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "I think Mike's a bad influence on her, you know? Maybe we should tell him he's not allowed to come round here anymore-"

"Hop," you murmured, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "If you try to tell her who she can and can't see she's just going to start doing it behind our backs. At least if they're here, they're safe. And Mike is probably one of the most harmless boys I've ever met. If anything, he's a good influence."

He grumbled softly, letting your steer him over to sit on the couch, visibly far less upset than you had been when he'd walked through the door. "You're way too smart, you know?" he uttered, feeling a small smile pull at his lips when you tucked yourself into his side. 

*Time Skip*

At some point, you'd fallen asleep against Hopper, the TV playing quietly in the background becoming enough to make you drift off. You fell asleep like this most nights when Hop wasn't on a night shift, and it came naturally at this point. So, when he started shifting around, you had tried to keep your eyes closed and stay in your slumber a little longer. 

"Where on Earth have you been?" he murmured just as you heard the front door click shut. "Do you have any idea how worried your mother has been?"

Mother. He'd never called you that before and neither had El. Of course, you'd always done the things a stereotypical mother would do. You cooked and cleaned and did the laundry and you were always there when they needed you. You kept the two of them alive, and it was a far better existence than they ever would've had without you. But actually using the word seemed like such a big step. Such an intimidating step. 

"She spent all evening calling everyone who knows who you are, looking for you."

"Mother," El repeated and you could hear the noise of her shuffling on the spot, her feet scraping on the rug. 

"Y/N loves you. And she works her ass off to make your life as good as it can possibly be under our circumstances. I think you owe her an apology." 

"I didn't mean to upset-" she paused for a moment. "Mom," she pressed on. "I didn't want to make Mom sad."

You let out a faux-grumble, rubbing at your eyes and shuffling up into a more comfortable seated position with Hopper's arm still draped around you. You blinked at El for a moment before offering her a small smile. "I'm glad you're home." 

El launched forwards, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"I know you are, Sweetheart," you hummed, stroking her hair back. "And I'm sorry for overreacting." You shuffled over slightly, making a space between you and Hopper for El to slide into. "Can we make a deal? You keep the door open when Mike's over. Just a couple of inches, okay? Just for now. We can reassess the rule when you're a bit older." 

"We aren't reassessing the rule," Hopper grumbled, causing a snort of laughter to bubble out of you. 

"He pretends like he was such an angel when he was your age, but I've heard some stories from Joyce that'd scar you for life," you chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. 

"I wasn't an angel, but I'm not exactly a wonderful role model for our kid," he muttered across her at you. 

You tutted. "You're a wonderful role model," you corrected softly. "But teenage you was a completely different story." 

"Dad was bad at school?" El started, glancing up at you with a furrowed brow.

You felt your heart squeeze at her comment, a bright smile pulling at your lips. "Your father was a delinquent according to Joyce Byers. And I've learnt over the years that Joyce is right about everything." 

The three of you stayed huddled up on the sofa like that for the rest of the night, telling El stories of your teenage years (omitting some of the less savoury parts) and how you had met when you'd first moved to town. And for once, you felt like you were part of a normal family. No monsters from other dimensions. No yelling and fighting. Just a happy family.

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