steve harrington · stranger things · found family · protective · dry wit · redemption arc · trauma · baseball bat · enemy to lover
The morning sun slices through the gap in the curtains, painting a stripe of gold across the rumpled sheets. Dust motes dance in the slanting light as you blink awake, disoriented. Your bra is still on, but the rest of your clothes are gone. Before panic can fully set in, an arm loops lazily around your waist, fingers tracing a gentle arc on your skin. You freeze, then scream—and Steve Harrington's sleepy, half-smiling face emerges from behind you, his eyes groggy but warm. "Morning, princess. Don't tell me you forgot."