Stranger Things - Imagines (Book 2)

Steve Harrington X Hopper!Reader - The Love

A/N - This chapter wasn't exactly inspired by anything, but I was listening to You've Got The Love by Florence and the Machine a lot whilst writing. Reader is Hopper's daughter in this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 

One of your favourite parts of your dad having overnight shifts was being able to have Steve stay at the house whilst he was gone. It wasn't even like you were hiding it either. Your dad was pretty damn protective, but that included worrying his ass off about you when he wasn't home to keep you safe. So, when you'd asked whether Steve could spend the night, Hopper had been quick to agree. After all, you'd practically lived at his place for almost a year whilst your dad had been gone. The two of you were adults. And having Steve at the house kept both you and El a little safer. 

And the best part of having Steve stay at the house was getting to wake up together and make breakfast. Whether it was just a simple bowl of cereal or going all out with pancakes and all the toppings, you loved being around him in such a domestic way. With El still sleeping soundly in her room and your dad out of the house, it almost felt like being in your own place. It felt grown up and serious. It felt like you were an adult couple.

This morning, you opted for the fancier breakfast option. Pancakes were cooking away on the hob and Steve had been pottering around with your dad's faulty coffee machine, trying to make it work just enough that he could make you a drink. 

You'd just been about to spin around to tell him to be careful, fiddling around with electronics when he didn't know what he was doing, when you'd run smack bang into a cupboard door, hanging wide open. 

"Fuck," you yelped, your hand rising to cup your eye gently. And then, Steve's fingers had been prying your hands away from your face, a deep frown etched onto his face. 

"Shit," he uttered softly, his thumb brushing over the spot where you'd made contact with the door. "That's gotta sting," he hummed, his eyes flickering between yours. "You alright, Sweetheart?"

You nodded, blinking away the tears that had formed on instinct at the sudden pang of pain. "Yeah, just shocked me, is all," you murmured, leaning into his palm lightly as he continued to cup your face. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured, looking so damn sad that it made your head spin. 

"Why?"

He sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he pulled you into a quick hug. "Should've shut the cupboard," he uttered. 

You shrugged slightly. "I should've looked where I was going."

Steve grumbled softly, pulling back to look at your eye again before shaking his head. "It's gonna bruise," he murmured, brushing his thumb over it a final time. 

And then, something had clicked and you'd pulled out of his grip, hurrying back to the cooker to flip the pancake you'd been working on. "Almost lost one," you started, attempting to lighten the mood as Steve watched you with a soft frown. "Baby," you uttered, interrupting the internal beating he was giving himself. "I'm fine."

He nodded slightly, moving over to the freezer and pulling out an ice pack. "This should stop the swelling," he hummed, placing it over your eye and lifting your hand to it to make you hold it in place. "Go sit down; I'll finish breakfast."

You sighed, knowing deep down that there was no point in trying to argue. Steve, though one of the most caring and conscientious people you had ever met, could be stubborn as all Hell when he wanted to be. You leant up on your tip toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before leaving him to get to work. 

Steve had just been finishing plating up the pancakes when Hopper had gotten home, calling out a gruff greeting, the weight of the night shift already taking effect on him. All he wanted was to crawl into bed, maybe after stealing a little bit of whatever the two of you had cooked up for breakfast. But then, his eyes had found you on the couch, ice pack pressed to your face, and all sense of weariness had faded. 

Hopper had marched into the kitchen, catching Steve by the collar before any of you really knew what was happening, and hauling him up against the wall. 

"You like hurting girls, punk?" he bit out, his scowl so deep on his face that he was almost unrecognisable. 

"Dad," you cried out, tripping over yourself in your attempt to get to your feet. "What the fuck-"

"You get off on hurting my little girl?" he pressed on, his hold on Steve's t-shirt tightening as he pushed him hard up against the wall. "Answer me."

Steve looked terrified, his mouth dropping open as he shook his head. "No sir."

"You put hands on her?"

"I walked into a cupboard," you cried out, your hand wrapping around Hopper's wrist. "Steve didn't touch me-"

Hopper's grip loosened slightly, his eyes darting down to look at you, finding the bruise spreading across your eye socket, the ice pack abandoned on the couch. "You sure?"

"I'm certain," you agreed softly, letting out a breath you hadn't realised you had been holding. "Steve wouldn't ever hurt me; you know that," you reminded him, watching as he finally released your boyfriend entirely, taking a step back and holding up his hands to show he was done fighting, not that you could really call what had been happening a fight. 

"You walked into a cupboard?" Hopper pressed, knocking your chin up so that he could take a better look. 

You let out a soft sigh. "I wasn't looking where I was going and we left the door open by accident," you explained, wincing when Hopper prodded at the forming bruise. 

"God, it's a wonder you made it out of Starcourt in one piece, you know that?" he uttered. "Giving yourself a black eye on a cupboard door," he chastised quietly. 

"Well, you can thank Steve for getting me out in one piece, can't you?" you murmured, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. "And you can apologise for attacking him, too, whilst you're at it."

Steve shook his head, finally seeming to regain his ability to move again now that the adrenaline had faded slightly. "I would've done the same thing if it was my kid," he uttered. "Nothing to apologise for."

Hopper hesitated for a moment, looking between Steve's rumpled t-shirt and your deep frown before sighing slightly. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," he muttered. "I know you're a good kid. I know you wouldn't hurt her," he pressed on. "I'm sorry," he added, before clearing his throat. "I should get some sleep," he told you, giving the black eye another once over. "Keep the ice pack on it a little longer. It'll take some of the swelling out of it," he reminded you softly, shaking his head. 

"Night Dad," you called out as he made his way over to his bedroom, still grumbling about his daughter the clutz as he left the two of you. You slowly approached Steve, running your hand over his chest to smooth out the wrinkles that had formed in his T-shirt. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slightly. "You're dad is scary."

A soft chuckle slipped out of you at the comment. "Tell me about it," you snorted, kissing his cheek quickly. "Come on, let's eat."

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