Beast of Burden - Jim Hopper x Reader

Beast of Burden

It had been eight months since you had accepted a job at The Hawkeye Lounge in downtown Indiana as a lounge singer. If it wasn't for your friend, Sonny, you might as well have been on your way back to your parents' place in Kansas City. After dropping out of your junior year of college, you were insistent on floating around Indiana until you figured out a plan, a plan that didn't include moving back in with your parents.

Sonny had been a bartender there since their freshman year at Indiana State University, occasionally playing the piano for a few extra bucks after his shifts ended. How he was able to convince the bar's owner, Darlene, to hire a part-time lounge singer was beyond you, but you were thankful for the work. While you only came in during weekends, you were able to swing side-jobs throughout the week to be able to afford to pay Sonny for a fraction of the rent in his shoebox apartment.

While you weren't a professional singer by any means, you enjoyed the cathartic release of singing a good tune with the aided musical prowess of your best friend. The two of you had been friends since middle school, agreeing to go to Indiana State together to get out of Kansas. You were there for each other through it all: your first date with Harry Fenderson, the death of your first dog, the divorce of Sonny's parents, and Sonny's coming out. College had done nothing but bring the two of you closer, living together for the past three years and becoming the perfect brother and sister duo. While Sonny was constantly bringing boys home, you found yourself longing for the embrace of someone different. None of the boys at Indy ever captured your interest. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you would much rather take home one of your professors than any of the students. You always had a thing for older men, and it ultimately made it difficult for you to find a relationship.

The two of you had majored in separate subjects, Sonny opting for music and you opting for a degree in chemistry. The last semester had proved to you that you made a mistake, and your decision to not pursue music haunted you every day after you had filed to withdraw from the college. You desperately needed a break to reset your life, and, while singing two days a week at a local bar wasn't a year abroad, it was something to distract you from the reality of what the future had in store for you.

The Hawkeye brought in the same crowd of people every week: locals who came to take the edge off after a long week of work. The people, who ranged from being quiet to loud depending on the time of night, tipped you and Sonny fairly well, giving you a generous cushion for your savings.

Just as the crowds were the same, so was the set list that you and Sonny had religiously abided to. You never strayed from your usual playlist of slow and peaceful tunes, simply because the two of you never wanted to draw too much attention to yourselves. Why distract the patrons when you're just background music to them, anyway?

Tonight, however, felt a little different to you. While there was no uniform to abide by, the two of you enjoyed coordinating different outfits every weekend. Tonight's wardrobe consisted of the color red, which always made you feel so much more confident than any other color. While Sonny opted for a simple red tie and black dress shirt, you arrived at The Hawkeye with a form-fitting red dress that cut off just a few inches below your backside. To accentuate the curves of your back, you wore a pair of tall black pumps, accessorizing with a simple red rose in the apex of your head, which was decorated with a half-up style, loose curls falling gracefully around your shoulders. The cherry on top of your ensemble was the dramatic makeup you decided to experiment with: smoky eyes, a cat-eye line, and dark red lips. You were dripping of sex appeal and confidence.

After the two of you had sang the first five songs of the set, you turned to Sonny with a soft smile and mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Hey, Sonny?" you asked, raising your eyebrows to accentuate the puppy-dog eyes you enjoyed giving him when you were about to ask for a favor.