#yams | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

t-lostinworlds · 2 years

Text

You Are My Sunshine | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: childhood best friends to lovers; fluff; angst

》 SUMMARY: You always found comfort whenever Steve would sing, especially when it’s that song. He was always willing to do it for you, even if in the end, his heart would break in two.

》 WARNINGS: canon divergence (eddie is alive bc i said so, reader gets cursed instead of nancy, and i know the final battle happened at night but let’s pretend it didn’t for the sake of the sunset lol it’s symbolism i promise), a very sweet & soft steve, pet names (angel, my love, pretty girl), mentions of toxic parents, implied sex & nakedness (like one (1) paragraph), blood, injuries, major angst, character death, sad ending (...sorry.)

》 WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

A/N: hiiii, haven’t posted a fic in a while so i’m nervous. and this is my first ever steve fic so i’m extra fucking nervous so pls be nice sklsksks. i’m keeping my first-fic-should-be-angst tradition going so yeah, this is pretty sad. BUT that will also vary per person lol. hope you still enjoy it tho?? AND ALSO, the song i followed was mostly christina perri’s version instead of the original one but yeah it’s more lullaby than anything else.

++ big, big shoutout to @selfcarecap for proof reading this for me and for screaming at me (affectionately and supportively) on discord even if you had no idea who this man is 😭 ilysm <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Steve Harrington never sang in front of anyone.

Well, unless you count the times when he had one too many drinks at some party where he'd belt out a song or two along with the crowd then, okay—

Steve Harrington never sang in front of anyone, willingly.

Nor will he ever if he had any choice over it.

He wasn't terribly bad at it, but he wasn't ridiculously good, either. He was, more or less, somewhere in the middle, a person who could at least carry a tune without sounding like a dying muppet.

Still, if he wasn't inebriated, he would never be caught singing in front of anyone, even if they'd beg him to.

With only one exception.

You.

His best friend, his soulmate, his other half, and later on—after so much pining, denials, failed dates, heartbreaks, and a hard shove from Robin—the absolute love of his life.

To be honest, you were an exception to so many things in Steve's life. And when he'd known you for as long as he could remember, that was saying something.

So it shouldn't have come off as a surprise that you would be the only person he would willingly sing to. All you needed to do was ask and he'd ignore the deepening blush on his cheeks, take a deep breath, and start singing that song.

The song.

Well, frankly, you didn't even need to ask if he truly thought about it. Because Steve always knew when to sing to you, especially when he would catch on that it was what would help you at the moment.

The first time he ever did it was when you'd fallen off your bike when you were seven. The scrapes on your palms and knees weren't deep. But as a child who was newly introduced into one of the many cruelties of this world, of course, they still stung.

A young and confused Steve was left to comfort a crying you on the sidewalk. He'd tried to help you up since you were only just a couple blocks from home, but you were too scared, knowing that once your parents would see you in that state, you'd only get a scolding. Steve figured out as much when you cried even harder when he told you he'd get them for help.

There was nobody in his house, his parents were out for a couple of days, something to do with work. It was why Steve was left with your folks in the first place. They were good, old friends, which was how he met you.

So taking you into an empty space with Steve having no clue where they even kept the first aid kit, it wasn't the best idea, not even near good.

Then he remembered that one time he woke up from a nightmare when he was very much younger. His nanny had tried to soothe him with a soft hum of a song. The melody and lyrics were still so vivid in his memory since it did calm him, lulled him back to sleep so quickly he couldn't even remember what happened in his dream.

So, with no other option left in his eight-year-old brain, Steve gently took your hand in his, and sang,

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"

You'd look at him funny at first, but hey, you stopped crying, so Steve took that as a win. But then a moment later, you leaned into him, wrapped your tiny arms around his torso in a hug, softly sniffling as you buried your face in his chest. With a proud smile, he kept going, humming against your hair as he smoothed your back. Your breathing grew steadier the more he did so.

Steve had managed to calm you down enough to be able to help walk you home, bargaining that he would tell your parents it was his fault so you wouldn't get shouted at. And if that didn't work, he vowed to never leave your side when it happens.

As expected, you both got a scolding from your parents. But, as promised, Steve held your hand through it all.

From then on, it simply became your thing.

You always found some sort of comfort whenever he sang to you, specifically with that song. It seemed to ground you somewhat. Steve had grown accustomed to the steadying of your heart whenever he continued to hum the melody, your body melting in his hold when he'd murmur the lyrics against the skin of your crown. And it wouldn't take long for sleep to take over you afterwards.

Other times, he would sing to you if you needed a momentary escape, or even just a quick distraction from the horrors that unsettlingly lived in the walls of your broken home.

Like that one night during the last year of middle school. You'd called him up on his own telephone in his room, something that he never thought would become very useful, especially at times like this.

"S-Steve?"

You didn't even need to tell him more, Steve already knew what was going on. It pained him that he did, because it only served as proof as to how many times it's already happened before. If not for the faint shouting he could hear in the background, your barely contained sniffles were enough to have him jumping out of bed, no matter how late it was.

"Just sit tight. I'm on my way."

Steve was thankful your house was only a few minutes down the road from his. The trek from his backyard to yours was muscle memory at this point. Hell, he'd become an expert at scaling a tree all thanks to that big oak that was perfectly situated near your window.

After a few taps on the glass, it was quick to open.

Steve's heart could only ache at the sight of your tear-stained face, his chest squeezing when he saw you flinch at the sudden crash of plates just downstairs.

He didn't waste another second as he climbed into your room, guiding you back to bed before pulling you into his arms. You both curled under the blankets, Steve putting a pillow over your head just to block out any of those harsh noises.

"Want me to sing the song?"

You nodded.

Steve never hesitated.

"...you make me happy, when skies are gray."

Then you both got roped into the whole Upside Down ordeal.

The nightmares were always relentless for the first couple of weeks. Terrifying creatures from another dimension, a monster made of burnt flesh and crushed bones that controlled minds, Russians with a thirst for torture, deaths, far too many deaths. It would be concerning if all of you came out on the other side unscarred and—well, perfectly fine.

It reached a point where neither of you could truly be alone in the dark anymore, senses stuck on high alert that even the faintest rustle of leaves would have you jolting awake.

Steve had been singing you to sleep more times than he had ever done in his life combined.

He wasn't complaining, though. He could never. Because as much as his singing put you at ease, having you curled up in his arms while he hummed the tune brought Steve so much warmth and comfort that the constant beat of your untroubled heart, the peace painted on your beautiful features, it was enough to lull him into a deep slumber.

And still, there were even occasions where you would be the one who'd sing him to sleep, where you would be the one holding him in your arms.

Those nights Steve will forever cherish, where he could freely let his guard down, no more putting up a front as he let himself be vulnerable in your embrace. It was nights when he'd go from the protector to the protected. Even if only briefly, he will always be grateful for that moment of reprieve only you can give him.

Perhaps that was the silver lining to all this chaos you'd been thrown into. Because you and Steve had never been closer. And when you'd been inseparable for all your life, it was one hell of a statement to make.

But it was like reaching a new level of depth in your already strong bond. There were no more secrets, no more putting on a brave face, just you and him, raw and real, flaws, scars, and demons alike but still being able to look at the other with an immeasurable amount of love.

With all that said, it wasn't only when something terrible had happened that Steve would sing you that song.

Like that night when he finally grew the balls to tell you how in love he was with you, the night when Steve finally got to call you his.

You probably wouldn't be able to recall this because you'd been long asleep in his arms while Steve was still buzzing from the euphoria. Your early slumber was his fault, he will wholeheartedly admit.

Okay, fine, he's humbly bragging here, but he'd managed to tire you out after hours—you both were making up for lost time so what—taken by the throes of passion, of making love, as cheesy as that sounds.

And as Steve felt the gentle rise and fall of your bare chest against his own, the song just simply bubbled in him that he couldn't stop it from coming out. A sweet tune, a soft hum, as he sang the words that will forever be tied to all things you.

"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you—" he paused with a lovesick chuckle, pulling you closer in his embrace as if you weren't already laying right on top of him. And as he pressed his lips against your forehead, he fell asleep with a bright smile on his face, right after a soft murmur of:

"I love you, so so so much."

Steve had hoped that from then on, the song would be tied to more happy memories than bad ones.

But then Vecna came into the picture.

He thought it was the truest form of fear seeping in his bones when that vine had dragged him down Lover's Lake, the realization that your scream and the look of horror on your face would be his last memory of you as he was pulled into the Upside Down. He thought those goddamn bats choking him to death and gnawing at his flesh was what finally made him understand the true meaning of being so helpless and scared.

But no.

It wasn't until he saw your eyes roll back as you stood still by the makeshift rope—so close to escaping, but not close enough—did Steve ever know true fear. It was bitingly bitter, the feeling of hopelessness as he desperately called out for you, clawing at your shoulders, shaking, begging for you to just wake up.

The gang was taking too fucking long to find any song, much less your favorite one. And with each second of him watching your barely conscious state, the air in his lungs was growing acidic that his eyes had started to water.

So he turned to the next best thing he could think of.

He didn't even know if it would work, if his singing would surpass the control Vecna had over your mind, if his voice alone would be enough to break through the barrier and have you running back to him.

But fuck it, he was growing desperate.

So as Steve held your face in his trembling hands and pressed his forehead against yours, he sang. He didn't care that his throat was dry and rough, he didn't care if his voice was shaky, he didn't fucking care if he was skimming across being in tune and not.

Steve was singing for you to come back to him.

He was faintly aware that the gang had gone quiet for a moment once he did. Looking back on it, he couldn't blame their shocked faces. After all, most of them never heard him sing before, especially not so desperately.

Yet his focus was solely on you, repeating the song over and over and over, nonstop even if he was out of breath, burning lungs be damned. Because hell, if he was going to die, it might as well be while trying to save you.

"Please don't take my sunshine away."

Steve finally breathed when you gasped awake.

He wasn't sure if Vecna willingly let you go, or if Steve singing to you actually worked. But whichever it was, it didn't matter. You were okay. You were here, you came back, albeit shaking in his arms, but well and alive.

And as he helped you climb back out of the gate on the roof, he thanked whatever otherworldly being that heard him and brought you back. But at the same time, Steve begged for it to never, ever happen again. He didn't think he could take it if that were to happen again.

But the thing with the universe, it never shied away from being so cruel.

•••

Steve hated that he was splitting up with you, especially in a place that had Death written all over it. But he figured you'd be safer back in Eddie's trailer where the means to escape were much, much more tangible. He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if he brought you with him into the demon's layer only to have you get badly hurt then.

He just hoped that for once you would actually listen to him and abort the mission the second the whole thing goes sideways. He desperately wished you'd bring yourself to safety rather than run after him. But God you were never one to be told what to do. So he bestowed a little faith in Eddie that hopefully, the metalhead would drag you back if it truly came down to it.

It was what he kept repeating in his head, when the first earthquake hit, when the vines took Robin, then him, then Nancy.

You escaped. You're safe.

It was like a mantra, it was what kept him going, to keep fighting just to be extra sure that you were truly safe.

And when he threw that Molotov cocktail at Vecna, you bet it was fucking personal.

For hurting his town, for hurting his friends, for hurting you.

As the turn of events unfolded, Steve thought they might actually have done it, they won. But the moment he felt that smallest semblance of victory, it swiftly deflated when he heard the chimes of the clock, snatched away when the ground began to shake.

You had time to get out. You're okay.

Steve didn't even know if could convince himself at that point, because the second the earthquake stopped, he'd never run so fast in his life.

When he reached the trailer and saw you sitting on the ground with Dustin and Eddie kneeling on either side of you, he immediately thought the worst.

Bile climbed up his throat, stemming from the harsh claws that started to dig into his heart. He felt like he was about to pass out when he caught sight of the blood that seeped through your shirt, covering your torso with dark crimson. It wasn't the most pleasant sight, especially when it matched the red, thundering skies.

"Y/N!"

The relief Steve felt when your eyes snapped up to meet his was immeasurable.

"Hey," he whispered, dropping to his knees beside you as he took your face in his hands.

The ache in his chest eased up a little when you leaned into his touch, wearing that saccharine sweet smile that never failed to make his day brighter.

"I'm okay," you hummed, covering his hands with yours, squeezing lightly. "We're okay."

"What happened?" Steve asked.

Eddie cleared his throat, his guilt noticeable as he hung his head low. "They filled the trailer and guarded the gate. We had to get out before they could trap us inside but—"

"There were too many of them," Dustin finished with a sniffle, eyes a little teary but Steve didn't miss the silent apology.

"You did what you had to do." Steve nodded at them both with a small smile, patting their shoulders in reassurance.

"Let me see." He turned back to you, frowning as he carefully lifted your shirt to assess your wounds.

Steve grimaced at the state of your stomach, torn up flesh, your blood covering your once untainted skin. He hovered his fingers over it gently, frown deepening, heart aching at the cause of your pain, his own wounds tingling as if it sympathized with yours.

"We're matching," you joked.

Steve shot you a scolding look.

He knew you were only trying to ease up his worry, to make light of the situation. But for him, the joke simply didn't land. To be honest, no joke ever would when your safety was a concern.

"I'm fine, Steve," you sighed, flashing him a reassuring smile. "I just needed to catch my breath."

He wasn't having it, though. "Can you sit up for me?"

You let out another sigh but did so, anyway. Steve hastily took his jacket off to wrap it around your torso as a makeshift bandage, whispering apologies every time you winced. After checking the tightness of it twice, he grabbed your arms and wrapped them around his shoulders.

"Up on three?"

You nodded.

"One, two, three."

You hissed as you got your feet under you, a slight wobble in your movement that did absolutely nothing to ease out his worries.

"Come here, I got you," he murmured, wrapping a gentle arm on your back for support. Steve hastily cupped your cheek with his other hand when your head lolled back, your eyes screwed shut with your brows furrowed. It took a moment for you to open them again, another second until your gaze focused. He caressed your skin with his thumb. "Good?"

You hummed, "I think I can still walk on my own."

"Right," he said, nodding slowly. "Let's assume you actually can, what made you think I'll let you do that after what's happened?"

You rolled your eyes, a teasing scoff, but then a sweet smile.

But when your hand found his cheek, he stilled, brows furrowed as he held your gaze.

There was something in your irises, a knowing glint, and perhaps even a tightness on the curve of your lips. A beat of silence, a shadow crossed your face. But Steve didn't get the chance to figure it out when you pulled him in for a kiss.

Steve's whole body melted with a sigh, his free hand resting on the back of your head to pull you a little closer.

The kiss was languid yet sweet, nothing too rushed, but God did it make him feel better. It was like a momentary breath of fresh air after the toxicity in the atmosphere only this dimension can bring.

But then Steve caught your shaky sigh, a faint, barely there sniffle as you pressed onto him a little bit more. Your grip on his shoulder tightened, free hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers carding through his hair.

It made his heart thump a little faster, both in a good way, but—surprisingly, worriedly—in a bad way, too.

Steve pulled away, the crease on his forehead deepening at the sight of your glossy eyes.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked, cupping your cheek. "Is the bandage too tight? Did you pull your wound? Do you feel a little dizzy—"

You smiled.

"You're such a mom."

Steve stared at you.

And then, it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"You meant protective and caring boyfriend," he corrected.

You giggled, a rush of warmth coating Steve's body at the sweet, tender sound, one he needed to hear so badly. If he could put it on tape and play it on repeat, he would. But no high-definition speakers would be able to do the sound justice.

"Come on then, sassy pants," he chuckled, pecking your lips before guiding you towards the trailer—well, what's left of it, anyway. "Let's get you out of here."

•••

"The gate got bigger," Robin said, grimacing at the curling vines that covered the glowing, red hole on the wall of the trailer.

"I think we can just walk through," Nancy hummed, picking up the homemade spear, slime bursting everywhere as she stabbed it, just enough to pry it open.

Nobody really found the new fact an advantage. Everything was far too bleak that even the smallest of victories didn't feel right to be appreciated.

Dustin was ushered out first, swiftly followed by Robin who helped Nancy out.

"Go first. Help grab her from the other side." Steve nodded at Eddie before turning to you, sighing, "Quit pouting. Just let us help you."

"Wasn't pouting," you muttered, somewhat out of breath as you took Eddie's outstretched hands that protruded out the wall.

"Careful." He pressed his hands against your back, gently pushing you forward until you were able to break through the other side. "There you go."

He heard you suddenly yelp.

"You okay?!"

"Yeah! Got caught on a vine."

Steve hurriedly followed you out not long after.

The sun was already starting to set when he got back to Hawkins, an orangey glow covering the horizon. And if it weren't for the current situation, he would've stopped and admired the beauty of it.

"Here, back to your lover boy," Eddie chuckled, gently guiding you back into Steve's arms. "I'll go start the Winnebago."

Your grip on his shoulders was tight as you all but wobbled to him. Steve immediately secured an arm around you, planting a warm kiss on your forehead before helping you walk back to where the rest of the gang was huddled.

Steve couldn't wait to go home once you've gotten the treatment needed for your wounds. He was looking forward to having a long, nice, hot shower with you, to cover you in his clothes and tuck you under the warm blankets with him. He always longed for your cuddles after such a long, long, day, to hold you in his arms, start singing and—

"Steve?"

The blood on Steve's face drained when he saw you cough out yours.

He hurriedly dropped to his knees to catch your frail body, movements riddled with panic as he shifted on the ground. He was sitting at an awkward angle but his comfort was the last of his worries. Not when you continued to choke on blood. He gently pulled you upright, your torso now carefully settled on his lap.

Supporting an arm behind your head, Steve checked your wounds with the other.

His heart stopped, beating again but twice the pace at the sight of your blood on his hands.

The jacket tied around your wound was completely soaked through, the knot slackened so slightly yet dangerously as if something had purposely pulled it loose.

Got caught on a vine.

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

He only caught a glimpse of Robin running towards one of the nearby houses in the trailer park before he turned his attention back to you.

"Angel, I'm going to try and carry you, okay?"

"H-Hurts," you whimpered, shaking your head in protest when he tried to move you even slightly.

"I know, I know," he murmured, brushing away the speckles of dirt that littered your crown, chest tightening when he only managed to infect your skin from the crimson red that coated his fingers. "But I need to get you back to the car so we can take you to the hospital."

"No t-time," you breathed out.

Steve bit his lip and shook his head frantically. "We've got plenty of time."

"Need to—" You cut yourself off with an agonized cough, a sound that brought Steve so much pain he'd sacrifice anything to never hear it again.

"Ssh, it's o-okay, c'mere," he said, tender yet broken, taking the edge of his shirt as he tried to wipe away the blood that trickled down your lips. "You're okay."

You faintly nodded. "N-Need tell you, b-before—"

"Don't say anything," he reprimanded. "You need to save your energy. You're going to be okay."

"N-No, listen—" You shook your head, your trembling hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "I want you to p-promise me some t-things."

God, you were so stubborn. Not that Steve ever had any strength to say no to you, either. So as he covered your hand with his own and pressed it harder against his skin, he nodded.

"Anything, my love."

"This–not your f-fault, promise me you'll r-remember that," you struggled, but the determination was there, powerful and commanding in his hopes that your words would stick to him. But he could only press your palm over his lips and stayed quiet. You weren't taking that as an answer. "Steve."

"Okay, okay, I—" He shook his head, swallowing back a sob. "I promise."

"A-And I want you t-to be happy, okay?"

"I will be happy with you," he said through gritted teeth. "Because you're going to be fine."

"Promise me y-you will find a way to be h-happy," you whispered, tears welling up in your own eyes but a ghost of a smile touched your lips. "Even if–not with m-me."

You might as well have ripped his heart out his chest, stabbed it with a knife, thrown it on the ground, stepped on it and burned it to a crisp, the pain would've been much, much less.

Steve couldn't breathe, even just from letting the thought fleetingly cross his mind. You were it for him. It was you, or no one. His future was darker than the unknown abyss if you weren't going to be in it.

But despite the word tasting so bitter and vile against his tongue, despite him being unsure as to how on earth he would even manage to do it, if he would be able to fulfill his vow at all, for the sake of easing out even a fraction of your worry and pain, Steve nodded.

"I promise."

"I love you," you breathed. "S-So much."

He whimpered, biting his lip as he tried to hold himself together, trying to stay strong for both of you.

"I love you." Steve turned his head to kiss your palm but not once did he take his eyes off of yours. "So, so, so much more."

"I-Impossible," you teased, that sweet smile appearing on your lips. They didn't reach your eyes, not because it wasn't a true smile, but because—

Steve shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Stop arguing with me," he chuckled, the sadness curling around his voice as he blinked back his unshed tears just so he could see you clearly. "Just stay with me, okay?"

You nodded with a hum, a sharp intake of breath before your eyelids fluttered.

"H-Hey, no, keep those eyes open, come on, pretty girl," he begged, cupping your cheek, touch frantic, soft, desperate. Once he saw your gaze focus on him again, he quickly turned to his friends. "Guys! Please!"

"S-Steve."

"I'm here, I'm here," he whispered as he hastily turned to you, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm right here, you're okay."

"Can you—" You coughed, the sound clawing at his heart, sharp nails digging deeper when you asked, "Sing for m-me?"

"No," he sobbed, shaking his head frantically.

He knew why you were asking.

Comfort in midst of the unease.

He knew that once he did as much as start the first note, it would start to calm you, it would lull you into a comforting space where you'd slowly let yourself go.

But he wasn't as strong as you. Fuck no, not even close because he couldn't. He couldn't let you slip through his fingers.

Steve couldn't let you go.

Yet being the stubborn woman that you are, you'd managed to give him a tender, and oh so lovely pout, the very one he could never, ever say no to.

"Why n-not?"

"How about this," he started, taking a deep, shaky breath as he offered you a small smile. "I will sing to you as many times as you want once we get you to the hospital a-and then, many more times after that."

Your fingers reached up to push his hair away, slowly trailing down the side of his face before you pressed them over his lips.

"Wanna hear y-your voice, Stevie."

He choked back a sob, gently curling his hand around your wrist, kissing each of your fingers before he placed them back on his cheek. "I'm going to keep talking, don't worry."

"P-Please?" you whispered, wiping away his tears with your thumb. He didn't even realize that they were already streaming down his face, too caught up in the silent way your eyes spoke to him, telling him that everything was going to be okay.

Steve wasn't cruel and selfish enough to not give you what you want.

"Y-You are my sunshine," he started shakily, clearing his throat. Your sweet smile urged him to keep going. "My only sunshine."

"You make me happy, when skies are gray."

"You'll never know, dear, how much I-I," Steve choked, pressing his forehead against yours, never once breaking away from your gaze as he breathed, "I love you."

Your smile grew a little brighter, a concoction of pure beauty and grace as your features glowed golden, the last beams of light caressing your skin. Steve watched your eyes shine, glimmering under the sunset as you tilted your head up, lovingly brushing your nose with his, your warm breath ghosting over his lips as he whispered,

"Please don't take my sunshine away."

Then, everything was still, peaceful.

The trees rustled farther into the distance, the chirping of birds grew quieter, the wind had gone colder as the last rays of the sun slowly sunk and disappeared into the horizon.

"Y/N?" he called gently, eyes blinking rapidly, desperately waiting for yours to open, to give him anything. "S-Stop, this isn't f-funny."

Steve's heart dropped as your fingers slipped from his face.

"No, no, no," he choked, hastily grasping your hand as he pressed it back on his cheek. "H-Hey, stay with me, come on."

He shook his head frantically when he still didn't get a response from you. He looked at his friends, standing by the sidelines, gloom hovering over them as the dark clouds now started to cover the skies.

"Robin," Steve begged.

For what? He didn't know.

But Robin only shook her head with a silent sob, tears streaming down her face. Steve tried Nancy then, she'll know what to do, she always knew what to do. But even she was rendered speechless, staring with unshed tears, lips pressed tightly together to stop them from trembling. Then Steve saw Dustin bury his face into Eddie's shirt, the young kid's body shaking as he cried, the metalhead doing his best to comfort him as he too tried to keep his tears at bay.

It was then.

"N-No please," he sobbed, cupping your face, gently shaking your body. "Wake up, c-come on, my love, you need to wake up."

Nothing.

"Don't do this to me. You can't leave me. It was supposed to be me and you till the end, r-remember?" he continued, hoping his voice will bring you back to him again, just like the last time. "I can't do this without you, p-please, come back."

Steve never knew that silence could be this fucking deafening.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." He cradled your head as he pulled you closer into his chest, rocking you back and forth like he always did when you turned to him for comfort, hoping it would do the same for him.

But it didn't.

Steve balled his fists, the gaping hole in his chest where his heart once was growing unforgiving as his body trembled. He placed one last kiss on your forehead, his tears landing on your cold skin as he screwed his eyes shut. And with a deep, intake of breath,

Steve screamed.

In agony, in pain, in grief, in anger.

Anger at the world, anger at the universe, anger at everything.

Because they did it.

They took his sunshine away.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2022 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things fic #my writing #yams #can't stop giggling at the fucking yams alkslaks

605 notes · View notes