My debut in the world of Elmax fanfic. Dedicated to @octopusoptimusprime because I respect the desperate need for fics sometimes.
Elmax fluff + Hopper being a great dad
Jim releases a big sigh as he shuts the novel he's been reading– some Western story Joyce thought he would like and bought him for Christmas last week. She has a new job at the local library. Knowing Hopper's secret love for reading, she always has a recommendation list for him. Jim had to admit that she had pretty good taste.
He sits up from his supine position in his bed. Taking a final drag of his cigarette, he puts it out in the ashtray on his nightstand. He glances at his alarm clock– 11:47 p.m. Time for a midnight snack.
Jim swings his legs over the side of the bed. His feet shuffle around, searching blindly for his slippers that appear to have made their way underneath the bed. He finally finds them and walks out of his bedroom and into the living room. The T.V. has been left on, presumably by El before she went to bed. She has a bad habit of doing that. Jim decides to scold her in the morning as he walks over and turns the television off.
Jim notices a bag of potato chips sitting on the kitchen counter. Perfect.
He trudges tiredly into the kitchen, opening the cupboard above the sink to look for a bowl. Finding nothing, he shrugs and grabs the bag of chips anyway. He starts heading back to his room, popping chips into his mouth.
Jim stops when he notices the light on in Eleven’s room. The door is only open a crack, but a sliver of light illuminates a small portion of the living room. Hm. She must not be asleep, afterall. He shoves another couple of chips into his mouth before reaching for the doorknob to El’s room.
“Eleven,” he says, “What did I tell you about leaving the T.V. on–”
Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, he hears a loud gasp, and a startled red-headed girl falls off of El’s bed and onto the floor. She quickly and not-so-gracefully stands, leaning up against El’s dresser nonchalantly. She clears her throat, “Uh, hi, Hop.” It’s Max Mayfield, a girl Hopper admittedly doesn’t know that much about, but someone he knows Eleven became close friends with before moving to California.
Eyes narrowing as he begins to analyze the situation unfolding before him, Hopper’s gaze flickers between Max and Eleven’s faces, both of which are getting redder by the second. El shifts uncomfortably, her knees tucked beneath her on the bed. He watches her try to discreetly wipe a pink smudge from just below her bottom lip.
El didn’t own any lipstick.
Hopper’s glare shifts slowly to the girl by the dresser. He purses his lips and leans against the doorframe. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his mustache and beard which have grown back nicely since his prison stint in Russia.
Stay calm. Just like Joyce said.
“Eleven,” Jim emphatically interrupts Max’s attempt at an explanation, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Eleven swallows and nods. She looks at Max expectantly. In her shell-shocked state, it takes her a second to realize that Hopper wants a moment alone with his daughter and that she should probably leave.
“Shit. Right. Sorry,” she apologizes before heading out the bedroom door. On her way out, she slips uncomfortably past Hopper, who looks at her for a moment but says nothing. He puts a handful of chips in his mouth, never breaking eye contact with her. Then, he hands her the bag and shuts the door in her face.
Max stands, dumbfounded, outside El’s bedroom. Her heart is beating so fast that she swears she might be having a heart attack. Briefly, she considers leaving the chips on the dining room table and making a run for it, but, shit, she came in through El’s window and left her shoes and coat inside. She looks at the snow falling outside the cabin window and sighs, frustrated. She’d probably freeze to death before she even made it to the end of the Hoppers’ driveway.
Max begins to formulate an apology to Hopper in her head. But how do you say, “hey, sorry for breaking into your house at midnight to make out with your daughter who, by the way, I’ve been dating for months without your knowledge?”
Best case scenario, Hopper bars her from ever seeing El again, and she has to explain to their friends why they don’t hang out anymore. At the worst, Hopper chops her into tiny pieces and uses her as fish bait on his next camping trip. Neither option seemed all that enjoyable to her.
Max has no clue how long she’s been standing outside the bedroom door before it reopens. Hopper emerges, standing in the doorway with a look on his face that she can’t quite decipher. For what seems like an eternity, they simply look at each other. Max can feel the heat rising to her face again. Her hands, which are now white-knuckling the chip bag, are starting to sweat. She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can get anything out, Hopper breaks the staredown and takes his snack back from her. He quietly walks back towards his bedroom, leaving a shocked and confused Max standing alone in front of Eleven’s room. Before he reaches the doorway, and without turning around, he says, “Keep the door open three inches, Mayfield.” His voice is muffled by a mouthful of potato chips.
Max’s mouth falls open in disbelief. “Y-yes, sir.”
Max turns to Eleven, who is still sitting on her bed. She walks back into her room and releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding before sitting in front of El.
“I– I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes,” she states seriously.
There’s a pause, and then El starts to giggle. She grabs Max’s face, and she eventually joins her in laughter. They must be being too loud because they suddenly hear a booming “Three. Inches!” from the other side of the house, which makes them laugh even harder.
