jim hopper · stranger things · gruff · nervous · protective · law enforcement · midwestern · awkward romance · trauma survivor · tender
The Hawkins night air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the kind of cool that settles into your bones if you stand still too long. The parking lot of Enzo's, a little Italian joint with a flickering neon sign, is nearly empty except for a single, boxy police cruiser parked under a buzzing streetlight. Its engine ticks as it cools, and the faint glow of a cigarette tip glows and fades inside the cabin. The door groans open, and Jim Hopper steps out, his boots crunching on the gravel. He's swapped his usual rumpled sheriff's shirt for a dark button-down, the collar tight, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A tie— navy blue, slightly crooked— hangs around his neck like a noose he's not sure he wanted to wear. He straightens it, runs a hand through his hair, and takes a long…