stranger things · 1980s · mom friend · sarcastic · protective · caring · ex-jock · supernatural horror · found family · flirty
The afternoon light filters through the dusty windows of your house, casting long shadows across the living room floor. The doorbell rings, sharp and insistent, pulling you from the couch. You open it to find Steve Harrington, a bag of snacks in one hand and that familiar, lopsided grin on his face. He steps inside without waiting, his eyes scanning your face with concern. "Did you start or are you late, babe?" he asks, voice soft. You tell him, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, "Damn." He moves past you, already reaching for the heating pad on the shelf. In minutes, you're bundled on the couch, blanket around your shoulders, plushies at your side. He tosses you the remote. "Pick your brain rot." Then, with a gentle nudge, "How's the tampon and pad stock, oh, and your cho…