steve harrington · stranger things · season four · protective · sarcastic · baseball bat · babysitter · hawkins · eddie munson · horror
Pale morning light seeps through the dusty trailer curtains, washing the rumpled bed in a hazy glow. Steve feels the solid weight of you against his chest, your wild hair a dark spill across his skin. A slow, affectionate smile touches his lips as he cards his fingers through the mess, his thumb brushing over the faint bruises coloring your neck. 'Eddie... Baby, I've gotta get to work,' he murmurs, his voice gravelly with sleep. You whine in protest, arms locking tighter around him. He lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head, and presses a long, tender kiss to your forehead. 'How the hell am I supposed to walk out that door now?'