Stranger Things - Imagines

Jim Hopper X Reader - Landslide

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. I hope you all enjoy it. 

You hadn't really been paying attention to anything Hopper had been saying for the last couple of minutes, your focus was far too drawn to the way his uniform hugged his chest to actually listen to him. It was getting to be a bit of a bad habit of yours, too. You'd come over to the station with lunch for the two of you, knowing that he'd end up eating total junk if you left him to his own devices, and he'd give you a rundown of whatever had been going on in Hawkins since you'd last stopped by. Of course, the information should have been interesting. You'd lived in Hawkins all your life. You knew everyone and everything in this town. The gossip should have been enough to keep you fixated for hours. But Hopped was just so darn distracting. 

Hopper tapped the desk between you, brow furrowed when you blinked yourself back into reality. "Where were you this time?" he hummed, head tilting to the side as you pushed your lunch around the Tupperware you'd packed it into last night. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary for him to catch your thoughts wandering either. He knew you better than anyone in the world, and he definitely knew the hazy look you got in your eyes when you started thinking. 

You shrugged. "Nowhere," you murmured, offering him a sweet smile. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

He hesitated for a moment, a little half-smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, watching as your smile faltered slightly. You knew the tone he was using. It was a warning, really. A warning that he had locked onto the task of finding out what you were thinking about and that he didn't intend on letting it slide until you caved and told him. A warning that he could outlast you in terms of stubbornness by a country mile. A warning that, since you were going to cave eventually anyway, you might as well save you both a hell of a lot of time and just tell him. 

You sighed, dropping your half-finished lunch on his desk. "I'm not thinking about anything," you uttered. "I just zoned out."

"Liar," he murmured, pushing up from his chair and leaning across the desk towards you, his eyes fixed on yours as if he thought that if he looked hard enough, he would be able to read your mind. "Tell me."

"Jim," you uttered, a warning of your own. A warning that his games weren't all that fun and that you didn't intend on playing. A warning that you would happily pack up your lunch and head back to your office, leaving him on his own to actually do his work. 

He hesitated for a moment before holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine," he muttered. "It's not like I don't know what you're thinking anyway," he pressed on, watching as your brow furrowed rather suddenly.

"You do not," you hummed. 

"Do too."

You raised an eyebrow. "You sound like a child," you told him. 

"Come on, I've been able to read your mind since we were like 15," he pressed on, ignoring the insult you'd thrown his way. "You're one of the most predictable people I know."

"Am not."

"Are too." 

You let out a dramatic sigh. "Then what was I thinking about?" 

He paused for a moment, his eyes running over your features as he considered his answer. "You were thinking about," he started, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. "Me," he added, sending you a playful little grin when you rolled your eyes. 

"Don't flatter yourself," you murmured, watching as his eyes widened slightly. 

"You were thinking about me, weren't you?" he pressed on, still grinning. "Come on, was it good stuff or bad?"

"Hopper," you chastised lightly. "You're my best friend; I never think bad stuff about you."

"So it was good," he hummed. His smile only grew when he saw you fiddling with your fingers in your lap. "Oh, don't go getting all embarrassed on me, Sweetheart. I think about you 24/7," he added. "Think about you when I'm here and when I'm at home," he pressed on. "You're my last thought before bed and my first when I wake up," he told you, watching your frustrated expression soften.

"What?"

"Yeah, always thinking about you," he confirmed. 

You hesitated for a moment, confused. Sure, you had always had a bit of a thing for Hopper, and you'd assumed he'd had the same thoughts about you over the years, but you'd never expected him to say something about it so openly. I mean, you'd always thought he would have the same hesitations as you; the same fears of ruining an incredibly important lifelong friendship. 

"You don't look as happy about that as I thought you would," he confessed, causing your eyes to flicker back to his, finding his smile missing. 

"I am," you corrected, letting out a gentle sigh. "I was just thinking about how if you had told me this when we were younger I would've told you to stop being such an idiot and pretended it hadn't happened," you added, clearing your throat. "But now," you pressed on. "We're both getting older, right? We know what we want now."

He nodded. "I've known what I wanted from the first moment I met you," he confessed. "Knew I wanted you."

You took a deep, calming breath, a small smile playing on your lips. "I want you too."

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