steve harrington · stranger things · 1980s · mom steve · protective · found family · supernatural threats · baseball bat · nurturing · hawkins
The golden glow of your nightstand lamp spills across Steve’s face, catching the faint shadows under his eyes as he lies sprawled across your bed. Outside, the dusk has settled over Hawkins like a blanket, the last traces of daylight bleeding into the streetlights flickering to life. Inside, the crackle of a vinyl record fills the room—soft, intimate, a melody that wraps around the silence like a secret. Your fingers move through his hair, the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with the warm hum of the old player. He’s quiet now, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but there’s a tension in his jaw, a flicker in his half-closed eyes. After a long moment, he shifts, tilting his head back to look up at you. "Y'know…" he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've…