#jopper fanfic

[vashbes]

🌲JOPPER FIC❤️‍🔥

Currently writing a Jopper fic heavily inspired by Slavic mythology & folklore. I’d love to share it chapter by chapter and get some detailed feedback from non-Russian guys! Also need a few tips for the next chapter from a foreign perspective. If anyone’s down to read, review and chat about it, let me know! 🙏

[blush-and-books]

stranger things/jopper fanfiction masterlist!

oneshots:

they took our love (and they filled it up) | after all of his encounters with the upside down, it's a wonder that love is what's threatening to finally take him out. hanahaki disease au. word count: 9.6k

i know his name (i think about him every day) | set during season 4A, people keep asking joyce about her "husband" who passed away. she learns to grieve in healthier ways. word count: 4.3k

my love is yours (if you're willing to take it) | joyce and hopper after their great escape in 4A. intimate moments ensue. word count: 3k

[mymagnets]

Winter: Part Two

She’s jolted awake by the phone ringing after having nodded off in front of the tv. Cheers plays softly as she snatches up the phone to keep it from ringing again.

“Hello?” she mumbles.

“Joyce, I have a favor to ask.”

It’s Jim. She’s immediately more awake, knowing he wouldn’t call so late if he didn’t really need something.

“What?” she asks him, wanting immediately to know the favor, the need in this moment. Her anxiety skyrockets and she takes a slow breath in through her nose followed by a long exhale through her pursed lips.

“I need cough medicine and a fever reducer. Maybe some broth or juice or even tea if you have any.”

She performs a mental inventory, thinking of the cough medicine they have for Will since been battling a croupy sounding cough the whole time after returning from the Upside Down. They have ibuprofen and tylenol on hand too. In the freezer she has some broth too that she set aside for a time like this.

“Sure. Let me grab it all and tell Jonathan I'm bringing it over.” She’ll tell him she’s leaving just in case she can’t come right back. He might need to make sure they’re ready for school in the morning.

“Joyce?” His voice is almost a whisper and she leans in as if he’s sitting there instead of on the phone. “Can you bring it to the cabin? You remember…”

She definitely remembers his grandpa’s hunting cabin. She remembers hiding there from her dad at one point, fearing his punishment for something small and trivial. She remembers her first kiss on the front porch, dappled with summer sunshine. Losing her virginity to Jim, on an old army cot because it was “almost a bed” he was trying to be all chivalrous in a way only sixteen year old boys were and didn’t want to do it in the car on the back seat.

Her face flushes. Yeah. She can find the cabin.

“What is going on, Jim?” she pushes, beginning to get suspicious even though she doesn’t know why.

“Just can you? I’ll explain it all. Please? And don't tell Jonathan where you're going,” he adds.

“Jim, I have to tell him,” she retorts. “I can't just walk out of here without saying anything.” What exactly is he thinking she’ll do? Walk away from her kids without mentioning it?

“No, no, no,” he blurts and she thinks maybe, just maybe she’ll get a crumb of context. “Just don't mention the cabin. Everything is fine, just, I’ll explain it all,” he says again.

She takes another deep breath and she can hear him, waiting, breathing on the other end of the line.

“Fine. Be there in twenty minutes. And before you ask, yes, I remember how to get there” she says and hangs up with a sigh.

She knocks softly on Jonathan’s bedroom door and enters when he mumbles something. His bedside lamp is on and he’s holding a book.

“I thought you were done for the night,” she teases. They’d been discussing The Crucible before he went to bed, knowing he was invested in finishing it before the assigned reading was due.

“Wanted to know what happens next,” he says, sticking a torn bit of paper in to hold his spot and flopping back on the mattress.

“Baby, I’m taking some emergency supplies to Hopper. He called and asked if I’d help him out. It sounds like he’s sick,” she explains.

“We’re fine here, Mom,” he says. “I’ll make sure Will’s ok. Go rescue the chief,” he smirks at that

“Good night, honey. Don’t stay up much longer, okay? And don’t worry about me if I don’t come back until morning. I’d imagine that if he was desperate enough to call me, he’s probably pretty bad off.” She rolls her eyes wondering if Jim is being a giant baby about the situation, mildly anxious that the situation is actually quite dire. She’ll find out soon enough.

Pulling everything together, she bundles herself up and heads out.

It’s been over fifteen years since she’s been to the cabin but she has no trouble finding it, even in the dark. She parks next to the Blazer and heads up the porch steps, making sure to avoid the icy patches. Knocking, she hears Jim saying something then his yell.

“Come in!”

She swings open the cabin door, exhausted and mildly annoyed that she’s left the warmth and safety of her home, left her boys alone.

Then she sees him, that gigantic bear of a man who she would do anything for. He’s holding that sweet girl, already tiny, who looks even smaller in his embrace. She flings the door shut with more energy than necessary and stands there, stalk-still.

“Jim,” she hisses at him. “Explain to me,” she enunciates each syllable. “What the hell is happening?”

She’s angry. How dare he keep this, of all things, from her. 

She’s terrified. This can’t be safe. Not for any of them.

She’s heartbroken. She knows El hasn’t been with Jim the whole time and it crushes her to imagine the sweet little thing out in the woods, scrounging food and hiding in order to protect herself.

To his credit, he looks mildly ashamed, but quickly says, “Got something to get her fever down? Once she’s settled in bed I’ll tell you everything.”

To her surprise, El reaches out in her direction, tiny grabby hands directed her way. “Will’s mom?” she asks with a cough.

“Joyce, honey. What is it?”

“Please?”

“I think she wants you to hold her. C’mere and sit. I’ll get her medicine,” he grunts as he stands up and switches the girl over to her lap instead.

Like her youngest, El is still small enough to sit on her lap, but her legs dangle off the edge of the couch. She kisses the top of the fuzzy head, noting the fever. “God, Jim, she’s burning up,” she grimaces.

“I know, I know,” he says, pulling out the ibuprofen from Joyce’s belongings.

“Don’t give her the full adult dose,” she warns. “I would’ve brought that gross cherry flavored children’s tylenol if I’d known. God, Jim,” Joyce says again.

El easily downs medication and Joyce wonders if that’s a side-effect of living in a lab and being an experiment. Her boys both would have gagged before taking it. 

Gradually El’s fever comes down, she drinks a bit of the broth Joyce brought, and Jim settles her into bed. Joyce has to promise to come back tomorrow before the little girl will let go of her hand, but finally they have a sleeping child in the bed and they can talk.

“I’m sorry,” he begins the whole conversation, whispering hoarsely so the girl can sleep.

“Did you find her? When? How long has she been sick?” she pummels him with questions.

“Um, well, this is the project I’ve been workin’ on,” he starts, lamely.

“Yeah, Hop. I figured that part out,” she rolls her eyes at him.

“Christmas,” he blurts out. “On Christmas I was gonna leave food out for her again when she just appeared out of the woods. I convinced her that I could hide her well enough here long as she follows some rules like staying inside and stuff like that.”

“But why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“She’s still hiding. And if she’s still hiding it’s because they’re still looking. I didn’t want them looking at you and the boys, probing into your lives, poking around. I was hoping that if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t be a target.”

She sighs and lowers her face into her hands. “Do you think it’s safe now?”

“I don’t know,” he says, honestly. “I just knew you were the one I could trust so I decided to call you and hope for the best.”

“So we’re keeping her a secret then?” 

He nods then says “yeah” because she’s still got her eyes covered.

“And we’re keeping the cabin a secret?”

“Not a secret so much as we’re just not talking about it. If it comes up, we say ‘oh yeah, the old cabin’ and move on. People know it exists. I’m just banking on them not thinking of it for a while longer.”

She looks at him then. She’s tired, done.

“Okay, I’m going home. I’ll come back tomorrow after my shift because I told El I would. Call me if I should bring something or if I shouldn’t come for some reason.”

“‘Kay,” he says carefully, waiting for her next words.

“I’m too tired to talk about it tonight, Jim, but I’m not done talking about it.”

“Okay,” he repeats.

“I’m going home to sleep. Going to have breakfast with my boys. Then work. Then talk.”

She stands and he matches her actions, grabbing her coat so she can slide her arms in.

“Can you, uh, will you call when you get home? Please?” he asks her gently.

“Yes,” she sighs. “See you tomorrow.”

She drives home in silence, no radio, only her thoughts. She’s tired and that admittedly makes things worse, but she’s angry with him. And she can’t really decide if she ought to be or not. She can’t figure out how to explain why.

He goes into work early when El has just woken up and her fever is low. He hates to do it but really can’t figure a way around it and he placates himself by saying that she would have been out in the woods alone if she wasn’t in the cabin. It doesn’t make him feel any better.

“Morning Flo!” he calls out from his office when she enters the station. It’s not usual, him being there first and her coming in later, but his plan is to work in his office this morning then go out “patrolling” around town and go out to the cabin instead.

He goes out to greet her properly.

“Well, aren’t you the early bird?” she says, noting that the coffee is already on. “Well done, Chief.”

He waves a hand to brush that off. “Thought I’d come in and get some paperwork done early then maybe patrol around town. Don’t feel like I do that enough, especially in the wintertime. Kinda stay shut away in here or go out on calls only.”

“Seems like a sound plan,” she says.

If she suspects he’s up to something, there’s nothing about her demeanor that indicates it. He’s relieved at that. He doesn’t want to try and fool Flo. This is a one-time thing. He’s getting sweaty just saying he’s going to patrol. He promises himself that he will patrol at least a little so that it isn’t a lie.

He saunters casually, he hopes, back to his office and settles in to attempt to wrap up some paperwork. In the end, he really does get quite a bit done and almost feels justified in leaving early.

The chief drives past Benny’s, silently thanking him for looking out for the kid. He drives past the quarry where the body was found, the one that wasn’t Will. He even swings by El’s spot, the place where he left her food and where he found her. Before going to the cabin, he runs to the grocery store for whatever he thinks might tempt a sick child to eat something.

Then he heads home to El.

“It’s me!” Joyce knocks on the door to the cabin late that afternoon, dusk already falling. Her arms are full of an odd assortment of items that she likely should have put in a box or bag but instead were balanced precariously.

“Joyce,” Jim says as he opens the door. “Uh, can I take something for you?” he asks as a jigsaw puzzle box slides from her grip and clatters to the floor, pieces slip-sliding around inside.

“I think it’s best if I just,” she turns in a circle. “Set it down?”

He quickly grabs the gallon of milk off the kitchen counter and she hefts her armload up there, sighing as she releases her grip.

“I brought some stuff,” she says simply.

“I’ve got eyes,” he deadpans.

“Shut up,” she retorts, but a grin is plastered on her face when she says it.

“Kid’s been asking about you for the last hour,” he tells her. 

“She doing any better?” Joyce’s forehead crinkles in concern.

“Yes,” says a little voice from the doorway of the bedroom.

“I’m so glad, sweetie!” Joyce immediately sits down in a kitchen chair and holds her arms out to El who melts onto Joyce’s lap, head on her shoulder. “Does your head hurt as much? Your chest when you cough?”

“My chest, my throat,” the girl points as she speaks. “I do not like to cough.”

“Of course you don’t! Well, I’m sure your… Hop will get you better in no time. I brought you some things to do while you’re recovering.” She rocks gently as she continues.

Hopper wonders if she knows she’s doing it, the rocking, or if it’s something all moms do without realizing.

“Have you done puzzles before?”

A tiny nod from the little girl.

“Well, I brought you a jigsaw puzzle. Jonathan, Will, and I did it before they went back to school after the holidays. There’s a change of clothes, a couple of books, some art supplies.”

While she lists things off Jim realizes how much this must have cost her, to find things and just give them up. As if reading his mind she says to the girl, “And it’s all for you to keep,” but she looks at him when she says it.

After a few minutes the girl stands and takes the puzzle box off the kitchen counter, briefly looking at Joyce for affirmation.

“Go ahead, sweetie,” she tells the girl.

El takes the puzzle and a sleeve of crackers to the small, low table that is in front of the tv and begins to work so Jim pulls out the chair across from Joyce.

“Hey,” he begins, a small smile on his face.

“Hey,” she sighs, smiling back. “I’m not mad at you,” she clarifies, knowing that they’re going to have this talk now.

“It…” he hesitates. “It seemed like you were.”

“I know,” she huffs. “I’m sorry. Jim, we were best friends once.” She pauses and he just waits, practicing his underexercised skill of listening. “I think we are again? Maybe it’s too soon to say that for sure. But I’ve come to count on you.”

He nods and waits for her to continue explaining. Tries not to push her to get to the point.

“You’re always there if I need you. You’ve got my back. But I don't want to be in any kind of relationship where we hide things from each other even to protect one another. There are battles I can fight myself and there are times when I need to be the one to make the call whether or not I can do it on my own. But with my past,” she shrugs and trails off. 

“I think,” he murmurs slowly, “that makes sense.”

“I was angry because I want to be the one to decide whether or not my knowing about her,” she glances at the girl, “will be a risk bigger than I’m willing to take. I know your intent was good, but I don’t want stuff like this between us.”

“I’m gonna be honest and say that’ll probably be hard for me to actually do,” he admits. “I wanna wrap you and your boys in bubble wrap. Her too,” he watches El rub her eyes and yawn. “It’s scary after everything, to know you can’t protect people you love.”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for getting angry. I know you were trying to keep us all safe.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that, Joyce. If anything I should tell you how sorry I am for keeping this from you.” He pauses, “I am. Sorry that is.”

Her short laugh comes out in a single huff, but she puts her hand on his forearm where he’s leaning on the table. “I know you are. We’re both figuring this out.”

The silence is comfortable. Eventually he mumbles something about putting the kid to bed and Joyce replies that she ought to get home to her boys.

The secret is a little bit lighter with the weight of it shared.

[someone-help-im-obessed]

Cigarettes & Dreams

Jopper (Joyce x Hopper Fanfic)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/77468006

[catherineav]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@manuushroom and I have had the best time collaborating on this, and we would be honored if you would give it a read. <3

SUMMARY: Jonathan likes New York, mostly because it couldn’t be less like Hawkins. But living across the country does mean that when he finds himself alone and injured, he’ll finally have to learn to accept help—from the most unexpected source. 

“Jonathan?” the woman asks, stepping towards him like he’s a frightened animal. “Jonathan Byers?”

He nods, wary, and she must believe him because she quickly closes the distance between them and kneels close, holding out a rag and examining his cut.

“I’m Diane. Your dad—Hopper called me.”

[elposting]

i love byler but jopper and elmax over byler ANY day

[tbuddahh]

Simplicity

It still surprises her, waking up each morning, warm sunlight filtering through the bedroom window dancing across her eyelids, no fear of the apocalypse clawing at her nerves.  After the last few years it seems more unusual to feel safe and secure than to be constantly afraid that her loved ones are in danger.  Every morning Joyce wakes, takes a deep breath, and finds that she needs to remind herself that they are all safe.  They are all ok.  They are all home.

Hop is almost always awake before her, and she knows it’s partly habit, partly nightmares that still drag him out of his slumber in the wee hours of the morning.  Sometimes she wakes to him tossing and turning, cradles his face in her hands and wakes him, holds him, listens to him whisper about the demons he can’t quite destroy.  Those nights, after speaking the horrors out loud, he tends to find a peaceful sleep, their arms and legs tangled beneath their cotton sheets.

Today is a typical day.  The sunlight determined to have Joyce’s eyes opening blearily, arms stretching, the bed empty beside her, but Hop’s presence sensed through the smell of brewing coffee wafting to her nose.  She rises and dresses for the day, brushing her dark locks before quickly applying some mascara and lipstick to her face and heading toward the aroma floating from the kitchen.

She smiles when she sees him, his back towards her as he busily pops waffles into the microwave.  Joyce always thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but now that they are together, she feels no guilt letting her gaze travel his body.  That’s just what she does as he finishes his task, until he turns, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“Just how long have you been standing there ogling me, Joyce?” Jim questions, a smirk pulling at his lips.  He’s started to fill out a bit, the skin and bones that came back from Russia finally gaining back some flesh.

She laughs, walking towards him, her arms lifting to wrap around his neck, “can you blame me?” She lifts onto her toes, and he bends his head for a kiss, a simple chaste thing because there are already footsteps sounding down the hallway.

“Hey Mom, Hop.” Jonathan nods towards them, making his way to the plate of cooling waffles.  “I’m going to meet Nancy this morning.  Anything you need me to pick up while I’m out?”

She’s not sure she’ll ever get used to this, the simple domesticity of their lives now.  It only seemed natural, after everything that happened, for them to find a home together, one of the few still standing in Hawkins.  Hop and her bought this lovely ranch home way below value because, well, what kind of idiot would buy a home in Hawkins.  Of course they have the benefit of knowing the evil that threatened to destroy the town is finally and undeniably defeated.

Joyce shifts from her position next to Jim, grabbing a mug and filling it to the brim with coffee before leaning against the kitchen counter.  

“I can’t think of anything, Jonathan, but thanks.” She feels a swell of admiration for her sweet boy.  He’s grown into such a thoughtful young man, and she can’t help but take a little pride in the man he’s become.

Hopper moves towards her, his arm coming around her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.  She’s noticed neither of them can seem to stop touching one another since his return.  It is almost like they both need a tangible reminder of their current reality, like neither of them can quite believe it.  

“I can drive you on my way to work.” Hop offers to Jonathon as El and Will make their way into the kitchen, sleepily heading towards the plate of waffles with mutual grumbles of good morning.  She knew they were up too late playing board games, but who is she to begrudge them the normalcy of a late night of fun with friends.  Normalcy that is long overdue.

As the two younger members of the household delve into waffles drowning in syrup, Jonathon finishes his last bite and tells Hopper he’ll take him up on the lift to the Wheeler’s house.

Hop nods, tilting his head back to finish the last swig of coffee in his mug.  He brings it to the sink, washes and dries it while Jonathon dons his jacket and shoes.  Joyce sets down her own mug, taking in the moment, her children safe, the sweet smell of syrup mixing with bitter notes of coffee.  She can hardly believe it and sometimes the simplicity of it all brings tears to her eyes.

“Mom,” Jonathan brings her back from her trance, his arms circling her small frame in a tight embrace, “I’ll see you later.” He says, and she kisses his cheek.

“I love you. Be safe.” She replies, her mantra anytime one of her children leave the house.

Hop slides in next, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, his arm wrapping around her waist, and just as he pulls away the words drop from her mouth, “I love you. Be safe.”

He pauses, his hand still at her hip, and her mouth drops open, her brain catching up to her words.  Yes, she loves Jim Hopper.  She’s loved him for longer than she’d care to admit, but this is the first time she’s said it, the first time either of them has actually used those words.

The moment seems to freeze, the kids’ eyes all finding Joyce’s blushing cheeks, and then Hop is leaning in again, brushing his cheek to hers, his mouth so close to her ear it tickles when he whispers, “I love you too, Joyce.”

The smile pulls at her lips slowly until she is beaming, smiling brightly as she rises on her toes to drop one more kiss to his lips before Jim’s out the door, Jonathan by his side, Will and El giggling over their waffles.  She reaches for her cooling mug, lifts it to her mouth, and she just can’t seem to stop smiling.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[cricketsatnight]

Could you do a jopper smut where they are finally reunited at home and have sec but have to be quiet because of the kids

(Um, yes, and the inspo for this one hit me like a truck. I wrote about as picture-perfect a "we're finally home" scenario could be for them. Everyone is alive and life is peaceful, which the show most certainly won't give us.

Come get yer smut, anon.)

“H-Hop, the kids– Jim–” She shut her eyes and started nervously fidgeting at the hem of her shirt. “It’s not even just our kids, it’s the whole damn circus.”

“I can be quiet. Can you?” Hopper nuzzled into her skin, brushing away her hair with his nose. He nipped at her ear and Joyce’s breath hitched. “I mean, if you’re not sure, we really don’t have to–”

“I want to.”

Keep reading on AO3~