#ghost of you by 5sos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunshine-daisies-library · 4 months

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ghost of you | steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve harrington comes to the realization that he needs you more than anything. if only he had come to that realization before he lost you forever.

warnings: breakup, angst, drinking, depression, hopeful ending

wordcount: 2.05k

author's note: this fic is based off ghost of you by 5sos, and i hope you enjoy it! i started writing this like back in february and just decided to finish it up now, so there might be random gaps in there just lmk lol. if you'd like a part two, let me know!

Steve couldn’t sleep as well as he did before. Weeks of tossing and turning could no longer be blamed on a supposedly lumpy mattress. Dustin and Robin had told him time and time again that if he wanted a new mattress he could simply buy a new one. But the mattresses at the store were missing something. They didn’t come with the faint smell of your shampoo, or the wrinkles in the sheets from when you last slept over.

Nearly two months had passed since you were here, yet everything remained the same in Steve’s bedroom. Your side of the bed was untouched. No matter how much Steve insisted he was getting over you, he still refused to sleep on your side of the bed.

Steve rolled out of bed and dragged his feet down the stairs. The floors creaked with every heavy step until he made it down to the kitchen. Dust coated the countertop from lack of use aside from a plate of uneaten food here and there. Robin always made sure Steve had food - she’d stop by the local pizzeria at times and buy him a slice. But as soon as she’d leave, he’d push away the plate and go back to bed.

Steve sat down on the barstool and sighed to himself. To his right sat a half empty cup of coffee. There was nothing special about the cup, it was just a blue cup with a faded “world’s okay-est dad” printed on it from the kids last holiday. But to Steve, it was your cup. Your lipstick was still stained on the rim, faint but still there. God, you didn’t live together officially back then, yet you had designated the left side of the bed and Steve’s yellow sweatshirt as yours, not that Steve minded, though. He loved you, adored you, even.

If only he told you that when it mattered most.

–

Steve wasn’t sure why he gave into Robin and Nancy’s idea. Perhaps it was because he was such a pushover for the kids, that nature transferred to them as well. Nonetheless, Steve was heavily regretting it.

Now, all of Steve’s house was being deeply cleaned to a near perfect state. Nancy suggested throwing a party to get Steve “out of his funk,” as she put it. Anything to help improve his mood, but in reality Steve wanted to do anything but party. He couldn’t when you weren’t by his side, making sure he didn’t drink too much or that he had enough water and food in his stomach. Not when you weren’t pulling him to the middle of the room to dance like no one was watching, or whispering in his ear that you had enough socializing for one night. Those moments, he would look into your eyes and not break away when he called out to everyone that the party was over. Because you were everything to him and anything you said goes. That is until he broke things off with you.

Why did he ever end things?

Steve’s mind was racing as he absentmindedly swept the living room floor, dust accumulating at his feet. He didn’t hear Robin’s voice calling out to him until she was literally in front of him, shaking his shoulders. The boy snapped out of his thoughts, flinching at his friend’s rough shaking.

“Jesus, Rob,” he shook his head. “What do you want?”

Robin rolled her eyes at his hostility and crossed her arms on her chest. “Nancy called,” she deadpanned. “She did the laundry and found a bunch of old crap. She wants to know if she can throw them out or donate them.”

Steve sighed, running his fingers through his uncommonly flat, greasy hair. He had forgotten to shower -once again- but he made a mental note to do so once he finished cleaning the house. “It’s probably my mom’s stuff. I’ll go down to check it out.”

Handing the broom and dustpan to his friend, Steve casually walked downstairs to meet Nancy. And at that moment, he felt as though his entire world collapsed in front of him. In a way, his world really did.

Nancy was crouched by the dryer, folding clothes and sorting them as she pleased. At her side was a lime green basket full of Steve’s old sweatshirts and jeans he once had haphazardly strewn across his bedroom floor. Sitting on top of the pile was a faded black Led Zeppelin shirt. The design was barely there anymore, and you could barely make out the words on it. But that didn’t matter to Steve. That was your shirt and not Nancy’s to touch.

“Hey Steve,” she greeted without looking up from her work. “I set aside a pile of–”

“What did you do?” Steve yelled, his voice raspy and broken from lack of use. He scrambled to the ground and reached for his band t-shirt. The worn material was thin and frail in his hands, almost to a point where he could pull a thread from the hem and the entire shirt would fall apart.

Nancy shot up in alarm, not expecting his frantic reaction. “I-I did the laundry-”

“NO!” he cried out. He brought the article of clothing to his nose, desperately trying to smell you, find you, in the shirt but to no avail. All that he could smell was the stupid detergent from the convenience store.

Tears streamed down his face and onto the cotton, quickly absorbing it and darkening the shirt color. “That was all I had of her,” he sobbed. “How could you, I-I”

Robin ran down into the laundry room at the sound of Steve yelling. “What’s going on here?” she called, racing to meet her friends. “Nancy what happened?”

The poor girl only shrugged her shoulders. “I was just finishing up the laundry and Steve flipped out. Something about a memento?”

Robin stared down at the broken man before her. She could barely recognize him anymore. He was a wreck without you. “y/n’s shirt,” was all Robin could say.

Closing his eyes, Steve could barely make out the image of you in the rain. You had yet another quarrel with your family and ended up at his doorstep. The fuzzy memory replayed in his head, how you were out of breath from running across town to him, looking for him. How he held you the entire night while you wore that shirt since your original clothes were wet and muddy. You clung to him as if he were your lifeline, and he held you with the same regard. They always said you two were too young to know what love felt or meant. No one understood or felt your hurt the way he did. That’s what made you perfect for each other.

And that’s what made you each other’s poison.

–

The debacle was resolved once Steve had fallen asleep in his room, locking himself away for the rest of the afternoon until cleaning had completed. Robin had consoled Nancy after she kicked herself for her mistake, but there was nothing that could be done afterwards. Something Steve had forgotten was that they had lost a friend as well. If he wasn’t your person, Nancy was, the girl glued to the hip wherever you went. And Robin was a little sister to you, the kids, too. You were an essential part of your little group. And now you’re just gone.

Soon enough, the party started and the Harrington Manor was filled to the brim with drunk high school students or popular has-beens. No one quite knew how they managed to get in, but no one stopped them or cared for that matter. It was a long shot, but Eddie, Nancy, and Robin were grasping at straws to get their Steve back. If a party to reminisce old times brings back his cheerful spark, then they were willing to buy all the booze Hawkins could supply.

Steve stood by himself in the corner of the main room of the house, nursing his third can of beer of the hour. He was silent, despite the many people coming up in their drunken stupor to greet the supposed host of the party. All he could manage was a fake smile and nod to bore them off.

All of a sudden, he caught a glimpse of a familiar color of hair. He whipped his head around to follow the shadow, only for it to disappear into the crowd. Steve hurried to push through waves of people dancing to music Steve could only describe as pure trash, to find what he was looking for. After all, could it be? After two months, could a party bring you back to him?

“y/n!” Steve shouted out, his voice drowned out in the blaring music. “y/n!”

The shadow did not stop, but neither did Steve. Steve followed it to the backyard, shouting and stumbling as the alcohol in his system began to take over.

“Steve!” a voice shouted behind him. Steve finally stopped to turn around and see Max staring back at him in disbelief. “What the hell are you yelling about?”

Steve’s hands trembled as he grabbed Max’s shoulders. “y/n,” he whispered. “I saw her, I swore I saw her here. She was right there, I-”

“Steve,” Max sighed. “She’s not here. She never was.” The teen pointed out at the garden and pool, seeing no one in sight. Truth be told, absolutely no one was there. Not in the party, nor the backyard. Steve’s grief had taken him by storm. Max feared the worst for him.

–

The party finally ended in the early hours of the morning. Steve woke up on the sticky floor of his manor to the sound of his doorbell ringing. The night was a blur to him. He could barely recall when the party started, much as when it ended. There were flashes of blaring lights and music in Steve’s intoxicated mind. His friends had tried to stop him from drinking himself stupid. At one point, Eddie had to catch him off the kitchen counter when he thought he could crowd surf. To put it shortly, his friends had gotten extremely upset with him and left not long after. Not that Steve cared, though. The alcohol in his system and neverending dread prevented him from caring.

“I can’t keep doing this anymore, Steve,” Robin had yelled over the loud music. Their friends nodded solemnly behind her. “We can’t keep letting you sulk and drink yourself to death. But we can’t help you when you can’t help yourself.”

“Like I care,” Steve slurred, stumbling over himself. Trashy beer dribbled down his chin, onto his expensive sweater. “I didn’t ask you guys to help me. I didn’t ask you to wash her shirt, or clean her side of the bed. I didn’t ask you to help me forget her.”

“We aren’t telling you to forget her,” Dustin sighed for the millionth time that night. “We just want you to go back to normal.”

Steve plopped down against the wall, his head creating a thud noise against it. “How can I?” he began to cry. “I see her everywhere. It’s like her ghost is still here, dancing through the house.” His friends stared down at him feeling absolutely helpless. The young teens watched pitifully. Steve was their rock throughout it all. He was the strongest person they knew, but now he was broken in a million pieces and there was nothing they could do.

And now, Steve clumsily stood up and kicked around empty beer cans as he approached the door.

“Alright,” he grumbled, thinking it was one of his friends. He knew he had to apologize for the things he said that night, but he was hoping he’d get a chance to get over his hangover first.

The doorbell rang one more time, causing Steve to wince at the pinging noise. “I heard you the first time, for fuck’s sake,” he yelled out. Unlocking the door, the door swung open to reveal not Nancy, or Dustin, or even Robin for that matter.

“Stevie,” you whispered, teary eyed. You were wearing his yellow sweatshirt and hadn’t changed a bit. From your hair to your stature. You were still his girl.

“y/n,” Steve gasped out.

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