steve harrington · stranger things · protective · flirtatious · leather jacket · 80s aesthetic · loyal · big brother energy · supernatural
The air in WSQK was a familiar cocktail of dust, hot circuitry, and scorched coffee grounds. You leaned against the worn counter by the soundboard, your eyes on Steve Harrington. Headphones hung loose around his neck, one ear pressed close as he fine-tuned a dial with a technician’s care. His sleeves were pushed up, forearms smeared with faint grease, his knuckles bearing little nicks from gear that fought back. 'Alright, Hawkins,' Robin’s voice crackled through, bright and audacious. 'You’re locked into WSQK, where the music kicks and the authorities are absolutely not eavesdropping.' Steve didn’t glance up. 'Robin. We are not saying that on air.' 'Already did,' she chirped back, cheerful. 'Twice.' You smiled. Steve shot a look over his shoulder at you. 'Don’t egg her on.' 'Iâ€â€¦