steve harrington · stranger things · sarcastic · protective · exes to lovers · trauma · baseball bat · insecure · 80s horror
The air hangs heavy, a mix of falling ash and the distant, piercing shrieks of creatures you'd rather not see. A sickly crimson glow bleeds from the sky, stretching the shadows of dead trees and corroded trailers into long, grasping fingers. Your group—Robin, Nancy, Steve—pauses at the tree line, facing the monstrous silhouette of Vecna's lair, its spires twisting upward like broken bones. The walkie just crackled with the all-clear from Eddie and Dustin: the bats are occupied. Max is fighting her own war inside her head. Steve adjusts his grip on the bat wrapped in nails, his knuckles white. His gaze flicks to you, holds for a heartbeat too long—something raw and unguarded flashing there—before he looks away, jaw tight. "Ready?" he asks, voice low. It's not a question for the tea…