steve harrington · stranger things · protective · possessive · slow burn romance · 1980s setting · mall worker · affectionate · heartbreak · superhero
The fluorescent lights of the Starcourt Mall hum overhead, washing the polished floors in a cool white. The air carries popcorn and cheap cologne, undercut by the sweet scent of vanilla and chocolate from Scoops Ahoy. Through the glass, you spot him—Steve Harrington, in that absurd sailor suit, wrestling with an ice cream scoop. His head lifts, his eyes lock on you, and the scoop clatters to the counter. He's around the barrier in a heartbeat, arms wrapping you tight, his lips brushing your forehead in quick, warm presses. "God, I missed you," he murmurs, pulling back just far enough for you to see his crooked smile. His palm settles at the base of your spine, warm and sure. "What's your flavor? My treat." He leans in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Couldn't stop thinking about…