#he changes

Updating along with our beloved David’s news and new insta (@ofdayfelice for you guys!)

Blog’s new looks:

Blog’s new background:

Blog’s new cover:

And the new icon:

Couple: Steve Harrington x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, im about to stop putting this because, by now, y'all should know I cuss in all of these. Just let me know if you don’t want me to, and I won’t, or let me know if you need the warning.

Requested: yes

Prompt: #12 — You’ve changed.

Tags: @the-land-of-imperfection

Song: When I’m gone.

AN: i love when my friends request things because i know they’ll love my work either way???? have friends like this, kids. love you, babe.

You didn’t mind being at a party, at 2:14am on a Saturday, but what you did mind, what your boyfriend, Steve Harrington getting trashed and believing he could treat you anyway he wanted to.

You had taken the time to walk outside and place a cigarette in your mouth, lighting it slowly. You breathed in the cool air and sighed out.

Nothing had been the same since they’d went to that damn Junkyard and you honestly couldn’t blame yourselves. It was traumatic and maybe, just maybe, that’s why Steve is drinking his liver away every weekend. And you? You had taken up smoking.

Footsteps came behind you, startling you and almost making you drop your newly lit cigarette. You turned around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. “Hey.” She muttered out, looking to the forest, breathing out as smoke followed.

“H..heyyy, why aren’t yous inside?” He slurred out, as he stumbled over his own feet to attempt to get to you. You sighed out, annoyed with the fact your boyfriend, was once again, hammered.

“Because.”

“Becauuuuuse?”

“Because, Steve!” You finally snapped, throwing your cigarette on the ground and stomping on it. “Because, every god damn time we come to one of these stupid fucking parties, you get smashed, and me? I get made to look like a fool in front of everyone! It’s like you don’t even give a shit about us!”

“Oh, so—so what? You, like wan'ta break up?” He spoke the words easily, like he didn’t care.

Like you didn’t matter.

“Goodnight, Steve.” You muttered, walking back inside to warm up for a little, before you made your way to your car. You felt a hand grab onto your wrist tightly, and you attempted to pull your arm back to get in your car, but Steve wasn’t having it.

“You’ve changed, Y/N.” Steve said and right then and there, you’ve never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly.

“I — I’ve changed?” You said in disbelief, eyes wide. “You’ve changed, Steve! We were fine and then the damn day the Junkyard happened, you started to drink everyday, and now look where we are, Steve! We’re not even eighteen, yet!” You said angryly, snatching your wrist away. “God, you make no sense! You said you didn’t want to be like your father, and, what would you call this?”

You opened the driver’s door, getting inside and wiping tears off of your face. Placing your eyes in the ignition, you drove off and decided to not look back.

———

When Steve woke up that morning, he groaned loudly, placing his hand on his forehead and looking around. When he saw the empty bottle on the floor, he sighed and sat up.

The events from the night before flashed into his head, remembering everything.

His eyes widened and he yelled. “Why would I say that?! Why?” Placing his head in his hands, he breathed out before getting up. Steve got dressed and grabbed his keys, making his way downstairs before walking out the door.

As he got in his car and started it, he groaned loudly smacking the steering wheel. “Why. Would. I. Say. That?” He gripped onto the steering wheel, trying to shake it vigorously, and then he stopped.

“We could break up. We could break up because of me.” Mumbling to himself, as he started to drive to your house. Tears filled his eyes as he kept driving.

———

You’ve barely slept since the events of last night, and you rubbed your eyes, sighing out. How could he say that to you? So smoothly? Like, he’d been thinking about it for weeks, maybe months.

Standing up, you looked in your mirror before turning away, the events still playing in your head, over and over again. Looking down, you breathed out, trying to find your composure.

There was a knock on the front door, which had made you jump a little, and you had went and opened it.

“Steve?”

“Hey, Y/N. Can we talk?” He stumbled over his words, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Anxiety had filled your stomach as as you moved over to let him in. As you closed the door, he pushed you up against it, kissing you roughly. You, of course, kissed him back, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

As he pulled back, he lightly rested his forehead against yours, smiling as you looked into his eyes, lovingly. “I’m sorry. I’m going to get help for my drinking problem, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, kissing him again.

“I didn’t mean what I said, I—”

“Steve, honey, I understand, I swear.” You smiled, pulling him closer to you, holding onto him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist. “I still love you.”

“I love you, too.” He spoke, his grip tightening on you, hands gripping onto your clothing.

It was time for him to get over his drinking problem.

———

AN: ahhhhhhaha, it’s finished!! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!! I’ll be posting again, soon, hopefully!