Snowdrop, Part Two

snowdrop, part two

A/N: i stand by what I did. this man picks up everyone under the sun. it's fact. he might be a string bean, but he is a powerful string bean.

gif used in the moodboard is by the always amazing @fightingdragonswithwho

Summary: “It was incredible, even with the rain.”

Warnings: Gideon!daughter!reader, reid wears glasses pre s1 because I said so (at least in this fic), smut, angst, rain, I finally used the classic can you unzip my dress trope, kissing, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, very little dirty talk compared to what I usually write

Word count: 2811

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, please tell me what you think!

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Masterlist

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Part giggle and part shriek, you rushed inside your apartment building with Spencer’s hand clasped tightly in yours.

He had just meant to walk you home after the concert, but the sudden downpour caused you to sprint and not walk it.

“Oh my god,” squeaked out of you as you finally touched dry ground. Looking over at your date, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out. Fully aware that he probably looked like a wet rat about now, he joined in the giggle.

“What?” he sniggered, wiping his outstretched pointer finger over his rain-dotted glasses, clearing his vision.

You tried to choke out your answer though the determent laugh, but it was barely comprehensible, “you-… you-… look-…”

Your amusement only strengthened his own, “thanks,” he grinned, as you felt the cold droplets drip from everywhere. The tip of your nose, your hair, even running down your spine. “You look phenomenal too. Water really works for you.”

“Thank you,” you shut your eyes, trying to regain a bit of your composure.

“I had a lot of fun tonight. When you said that you’d planned something, I gotta say I was a bit nervous, but that was amazing.”

“Yeah, well, I remembered you saying that you love Mozart, so I couldn’t stand there and do nothing when the music majors were putting on a concert of no. 21,” you tightened your grip on his hand, not ready for the night to end yet.

“It was incredible,” he smiled, looking at you as if he was attempting to soak in the last bits of joy from this evening, “even with the rain.”

“I, um… Do you wanna come up for a bit? Just to dry off, or I could lend an umbrella or something?” you bit the corner of your lip.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” a sense of relief washed over you, “I mean, I would hate for you to get sick if I could in some way prevent it.”

“Okay, yeah,” he agreed, “you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, come on,” you beamed and tugged him up the steep stairs.

“This is it,” you swung open the heavy front door to your dark apartment. Only the faint light from the stormy city outside painted the space with streaks and shadows. Finally letting go of his hand, you went to go turn on a few lamps. Slowly following you inside, he didn’t say anything, just took his time, taking in the space around him. “I’ll go grab a few towels, okay?” you announced as he closed the door behind him and gave you the smallest of nods, affirming your brief absence.

Moving with haste into the bathroom, you grabbed two towels from the stack in the cabinet. When you returned, you saw him standing over your dining room table, studying the chess board you’d abandoned mid-game.

“Here,” you handed him the pale blue one.

Only glancing up for a brief moment, ”thanks,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of the wooden board, “I didn’t know you played.”

“Yeah, I do,” you slowly started sobbing up the excess water from your hair, “my dad taught me.”

“We should play a game sometime.”

“I would love that, but fair warning, I’m not gonna hold back just because you’re you.”

“Good,” he looked at you with a bright smile, “I wouldn’t want you to.”

Glancing over his shoulder and out the big window, you asked, “do you maybe wanna just wait it out?” but felt your nose begin to tickle from the cold rain, “it might sto-, achoo, s-stop in a bit,” you sneezed mid-sentence.

“Sure, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother,” his head almost followed yours in empathy as you dove into your elbow, sneezing again, “bless you.”

“Wooh, thank you,” you scrunched up your face, hoping that was the last of it.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna change into some dry clothes? I mean, just, um, you’re cold and that-“

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you cut off his slight panic from the way his words could be misinterpreted, “I, um, I’ll go do that.”

Walking through the white French doors to your bedroom, you were so used to being on your own that the thought of closing them behind you didn’t even cross your mind. Plopping down the now damp towel on the top of your dresser, you opened up the top drawer and looked inside.

Slowly peeling off your drenched cardigan, you folded it up and laid it down next to the sage green towel. Left in your soft, sleeveless dress, you felt your wet hair caress your shoulders gently. Remembering the company that you still had, you felt a shiver go down your spine, secretly hoping that his eyes were still trained upon you, enjoying the show, since you’d left him in the eye line of where you stood now.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw his gaze hastily find something else to focus on, making you hide a smile.

“Could you maybe help me with the zipper?” you didn’t need the assistance one bit, but oh how you wanted it.

“Oh, um, yeah,” he sounded breathy as he rushed to aid you.

He barely even touched you, just gave the zipper a slow tug, as if your skin was on fire. Maybe there was a point to that. Feeling him this close to you, it was hard to ignore the rumbling flame deep within you.

When it slid down as far as it could go, you felt the air hit your back, but it was more so the soft seeking touch along your spine that made you shiver.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, holding up the loose dress to still cover you.

Slowly spinning around, you blinked up into his dark eyes, “you’re welcome,” he nearly whispered, as you watched his chest rise and fall rapidly.

Adjusting your grip, you let go of the dress with one hand in order to reach up and meet his cheek, lightly bringing him down so that you wouldn’t have to turn into a ballerina. Brushing your lips against his, you felt his fingers find your waist, tightening in the loose cotton draped around it.

As the kiss turned more heated, so did the touches. His palms slid down your bare back and only paused when they found your backside, grabbing a handful of it as you felt his sigh fan across your face, drawing you in that much closer.

You let out a low whine as you felt the soft fabric begin to rise, as he gartered it up in his grip. Pulling back, breathlessly, he asked, nudging his nose against yours, not wanting to lose the contact, “is this okay?”

“Yes,” you encouraged, letting go of the dress completely, sending it down your upper body and stopping where his fingers were still entangled in it. Quickly letting go, it dropped to the floor, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, dress now a puddle on the ground.

Standing now only in your undergarments in front of him, it took a moment before he kissed you again, completely entranced by the sight.

“You are so beautiful,” he muttered, as his fingers slowly explored your skin.

Gliding your hands down to the bottom of his sweater, you caught his ogling eyes before tugging it over his head. His skin was warm, oh so warm, like a fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Piece by piece, through curious hands and shy compliments, you slowly helped each other undress until you were both left in just your underwear. And like a moth to a flame, you kissed him again, feverishly.

You were so wound up in it all that you hadn’t even registered the way he backed you up until you bumped into the dresser, successfully slamming the open drawer shut. Pulling back with a small gasp, you giggled lightly.

“Sorry,” he apologised sweetly for his unintentional surge of strength.

“It’s okay,” you playfully caught his bottom lip between your teeth for a second.

Gliding his hands down to your hips, he fiddled with the elastic of your waistband. Keeping his eyes glued to yours, he slowly kneeled down before you. “Here,” he took off his glasses and handed them to you. Carefully setting them down on top of the dresser, your breath hitched at the feeling of his breath caressing your inner thighs.

His palm danced over your lower stomach, swiping his thumb lightly over the wet patch on your panties.

Becoming impatient, you did the job yourself and pulled your last remaining clothes off, coaxing out a low curse from him.

“Fuck… look at you…”

“You certainly are,” you exhaled shakily, wanting so desperately to just jump into the jump rope.

“Can I do more than look?” his hands tried to rest on each side of your hip.

The way that he looked on his knees, ogling up at you, you couldn’t squeeze a single word out, only nod.

Throwing your head back, you felt him shamelessly touch you, but not with his fingers, no, they were digging into everything he could reach, from your hips to your thighs, but with his mouth, his lips, his nose, his tongue…

Peaking your eyes open, you saw that he was still staring at you, head buried in between your thighs. “Holy fucking shit,” his tongue swept through your folds, nudging his nose against your puffy clit as he moaned, lapping up your abundant arousal.

“Spencer, please,” you fought the way your eyes wanted to roll back as he sucked down hard on your clit, “I wanna come on your cock,” pleadingly clawing for him to get back up, “I can finish on your tongue another day.”

“Promise?” he rose back up, swiping the back of his hand over the now glossy lower half of his face.

“Yes,” you scurried to tear his underwear off, cock virtually springing out and hitting him in the stomach, “please, I’m on the pill, is it okay with you if we just-“

“Yes,” he breathed out, rutting desperately against your palm as you reached down to touch him.

You let out a shakily, “o-oh,” as he finally filled you up, stretching you out so good that your bottom lip quivered. He then hiked your left leg up around him, rocking into you with slow, yet hard thrusts.

Both the clattering sound of small knick-knacks rattling on your dresser from the force of his hips, but also the lewd squelching noise of your pussy filled the apartment.

“You're so fucking wet,” he smiled against your lips.

“Yeah, well, we were just out in the rain, so…”

“Shut up,” he replied lovingly, giggling as he pressed his lips against yours.

You felt the weight of your right foot lighten as he half lifted you up off the ground, desperately bouncing you up and down on his warm cock with surprising ease.

You didn’t care that the knobs on your dresser were digging into your back, all you could focus on was just Spencer. The sloppy, messy kisses, the impossible spots he managed to hit repeatedly, and the beautiful sounds he produced, transporting you to another dimension.

“Holy shit,” you felt your thighs shake around him as you couldn’t prolong the inevitable end any longer. Somehow noticing, so cued in on you and every little reaction you fed him, he snaked a hand down to rub your clit harshly, “holy shit!”

Burying your face in his shoulder, he practically manhandled you in the last few moments. Only blinking once and somehow you were now lying on the bed, Spencer bent over you, feet still on the ground, pistoling impossibly deep into you.

“Fuck,” he rumbled as you clamped down around him, being the cherry on top of his sunday.

Panting, it took around a minute before his hips stopped the torturously slow thrusts they kept up, long after the both of you finished.

Like two puzzle pieces, you just stayed there for a while, slowly becoming human again through soft touches and slow kisses.

“Spencer,” you smiled against his lips, “I have to go to the bathroom,” giggling, you tried to wiggle out of his tender hold, “you have to let go of me, I’ll be right back.”

Begrudgingly letting you go, he propped himself up onto his elbow and kept a close eye as you got up. Noticing how his vision caught sight of the load running down your thighs, he bit down on the palm resting against his cheek, just to restrain himself from jumping your bones again.

Snatching up the robe that was still draped across the messy chair in the corner of your room from your morning shower, you flashed him a cheeky grin before disappearing into your bathroom and leaving him alone.

When you returned, you didn’t find him in your bed, but now partially clothed, glasses back on, standing in front of your bookcase, completely still.

“Spencer, I know that you love to read, but even now, after that?” you teased, coming up to wrap your arms around his midsection, giving his shoulder blade a small kiss.

“Who’s that?” he didn’t move you welcome your embrace, just pointed hesitantly at the framed photograph nestled in between a few stacks.

“Oh, that’s my dad,” you smiled at the memories the picture evoked, “he’s actually the one who pulled a few strings and got me the job at the library after he started teaching at the school. I think I was maybe 11 in that picture? It was the first time he took me with him on one of his, as I called it as a kid, bird adventures up in his cabin.”

“That’s your dad?” his tone made you creep around to search his face.

“Yeah, why?”

Eyes locked on the photograph, he breathed out, “that's my boss…”

“What?”

“That is my boss, that’s who, that’s why I’m at the school, he’s why…” he explained, looking rather dazed, just as you must have.

“Your name’s-”

“Spencer Reid,” he filled in, not in the mood for guessing games.

“You’re doctor Reid? The one that just started?” he nodded, making you feel as if you were losing everything before it had even begun. “Oh my god…” you backed up, “you’re him… I feel like I know you from everything he’s been telling me. I mean, he won't shut up about you,” you slapped yourself mentally for not connecting the dots.

Your dad had never ever liked any of the people you’d ever dated, so imagine how he’d react if you came strolling up with his co-worker on your arm.

“It’ll be alright, Y/n,” Spencer said deliberately, “this doesn’t have to change anything.”

Turning your back to Spencer, facing the big window, you closed your eyes and tuned him out as he kept on pleading his case, simply trying to think.

“…I mean,” you started to register his voice once more, “I know he has a gun, but I don’t think he’d actually use it-“

“We can’t do this,” you concluded, cutting him off. “I can’t ruin your career before it has even begun.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Spencer,” you slowly turned to face him once more, “how serious do you think people will take you when they find out you’ve been banging the boss's daughter since day one? You think you’ll be treated fairly? Get the same opportunities? They will stop at that fact and think that’s everything to it. Everything to you. They won’t think you worked as hard as you have to get where you are, to them, you simply slept with the right person.”

Tears in his eyes, he tried to reach for your hand, “Y/n… they won’t fixate on something like that-“

“Yes, they will…” you sobbed, “yes they will, because people are dumb and stupid and shallow, so they will, trust me, they will,” you spoke with certainty. Your dad was one of the founding members of the bau, he had raised you to know exactly how human beings ticked. Walking up, you gently grabbed the sides of his face and said, “you deserve everything this world has to offer. You’ve worked so hard to get what you have, don’t let me ruin it all. I care about you too much to stand in your way.”

“Y/n, I lov-,“ but before he could finish the declaration, you shut him up with a teary kiss.

“Please don’t say it. Please don’t. Just, grab your things and go, try and forget I ever existed-”

“Forget? Y/n, I have an eidetic-“

“Eidetic memory? Yeah, I know. My dad told me.”

The always talkative doctor did say another word, not even a single sound. All you could hear was deafening quiet and the rain, still in a fight with your windows.

The rain… it didn’t stop.

next part

Reid tag list: @rashybaby @buckysveins @amywright @f-me-reid @haleyshue97 @cherryxbbombb @reidsworld @uwucorpse @tommosteps @iaracgr @brinaslittlefreak @reidselle @yourclassictheaternerd @upsetbongos @like-a-bird-that-flew @sannalk2 @kasnuffles @muffin-cup

snowdrop: @i-bitch-you-bitch @plumes-de-nuit @emily-roberts

Help Mohamad reunite his family ❤️🙏

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is facing one of the most challenging times of his life. Mohamad is 37 years old and left his homeland in 2015 in search of a safer and better future. He’s a kind, hardworking man, and his small family has always been his greatest priority.

Living abroad, Mohamad has recently endured unimaginable loss and financial strain. Amidst the ongoing conflict in his homeland, his mother passed away, leaving behind his sister and her five young children—the last remaining members of his immediate family.

As the situation worsened, Mohamad managed to help his sister and her children escape to safety in Egypt, covering their immediate needs and securing a temporary refuge for them. Since then, he has been fully responsible for providing everything they need to survive during this transition.

In his efforts to support his family and cope with this devastating loss, Mohamad has found himself deeply in debt. To make matters even more difficult, he recently underwent knee surgery, which limits his ability to return to work for the foreseeable future. This has made it even harder for him to manage his financial responsibilities and the pressing need to provide his family with a stable future.

Mohamad is now working to bring his sister and her five children to join him in Belgium, where he hopes they can find stability and opportunity after all they’ve endured. This transition, however, requires significant resources that he is currently unable to meet alone.

For privacy reasons, we are not sharing Mohamad’s full name, as he has chosen to keep his identity discreet. While he initially refused the idea of asking for help, I couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle alone. I insisted on doing this for him because he deserves a chance to overcome these challenges. Your contribution 💪 will help Mohamad repay the debt incurred during this difficult time, cover ongoing living expenses for his family, and assist with the costs involved in bringing them safely to Belgium.

Mohamad has been a good friend of mine for years, and I’ve always admired his resilience and generosity. Any support, no matter the size, will make an incredible difference in helping Mohamad and his family rebuild their lives after these painful experiences.

Thank you for reading his story and considering helping a man who has always done everything he can for his loved ones. 🙏

📢 Donate & share: Donation Link

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mohamad reunite his family and clear his debt, organized by Adam Bin Ali

I am reaching out on behalf of my dear friend, Mohamad S., who is faci… Adam Bin Ali needs your support for Help Mohamad reunite his family

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allhellbreakslose

1 year ago

Aaron Blackford freaking out bc Lina is not eating

just a king being a king

Babysitters in Love- Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Requested: Yes

Pairings: Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!reader

Word Count: 1,948

Warnings: swearing, talks about sex–– not graphic and mainly fluff

Summary: Dating Steve Harrington as Dustin Henderson’s sister has to be a secret–– until it isn’t.

He grabs your waist and pulls you back into him as you’re trying to leave. You giggle and turn in his arms, looking up into his big, brown eyes.

You lean up and kiss the underside of his jaw. “Babe, I gotta go. I can’t keep making lies about where I am to my mom and brother.”

Steve rubs his nose against yours. “Babe, Robin or Nance will cover for you. Come on. Stay for just 10 more minutes,” he pleads.

“Stevie, I gotta go.” You grab your bag off his bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You kiss him real quick and run out of the house.

You jump in your car, and before driving away, you see Steve standing in the front doorway, arms crossed, with the biggest grin spread over his face. You sat for a second, staring–– contemplating. I could stay for another 10. What would be the problem? you thought to yourself.

You shake your head at him and put the car in reverse out of his driveway, and start down the street. Then, your walkie starts going off. “Y/N. Do you copy?”

You grab it off the passenger floor and speak into it. “Yes, Dustin. I copy. What’s wrong?” You’re annoyed. He’s going to ask you for something, you know it.

“Where are you? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you, and you haven’t replied. I called Robin’s, and she said you weren’t there.” He sounded worried.

“Oh, I was at Nance’s.” The minute you said it, you regretted it.

There’s a pause. “Nancy? As in, Nancy Wheeler? Mike Wheeler’s sister?”

You have to keep going at this point because backing out looks worse. “Yeah, Nancy Wheeler. Why?”

“I’m at Mike’s right now. I don’t see you here, Y/N.” You can hear one of the other boys snicker in the back. Fuck, they’re all there.

“I was with Nancy, but then I left to the grocery store to grab some stuff, and I’m heading home, Dustin. Is there anything you actually need from me? If not, I’ll see you at home.” You want out of this conversation desperately.

“I want to know where you’ve been. Why are you lying?” Dustin’s annoyed tone is annoying you.

“Maybe she was with her secret boyfriend,” Lucas chimes in over the walkie, laughing.

“What? What boyfriend?” Dustin is confused.

You roll your eyes and pull into your driveway. “All of you shut up. I’m home. I’ll see you later.”

“But who––” you cut Dustin off by closing the antenna of your walkie. You walk into the house and smile at your mom, who doesn’t say much other than a “Hi sweetie” while she pets the cat and watches TV.

You head straight to your room and lay back on your bed, thinking about your day with Steve. You start blushing, thinking of him kissing you, his hands roaming over your body. Your fingers wrap into his hair. He would pull away and look at you, love drunk and his lips swollen, just to dip back down to kiss you again.

You sigh. Fuck, I wish I had stayed.

Your door slams open, and you jump up. “Where the hell were you?!”

“Dustie, what’s wrong? Why are you yelling?” Your mom sounds horrified by your brother’s outburst.

He’s staring at you, and you give him the look of death. Tell her, and I will murder you, you think. He picks up on it. “Nothing, mom!”

He steps in and closes your door behind him. “Where were you? Who is this ‘boyfriend’ of yours?” Dustin squints at you.

You squint back. “I don’t have a boyfriend. And I told you where I was.”

“Oh yeah? What did you get then?”

“What?”

“What did you get? From the grocery store?”

You stare at him for a second. You grab your purse and grab out your lip balm. “This. I lost my old one, and I needed a new one.” Luckily, you have barely used this one if he actually wanted to inspect it.

His eyes flicked between you and the lip balm. He huffed, knowing you were lying but didn’t want to continue this fight. He turned to leave, hand on the doorknob, but turned and said, “I may be your little brother, but I’ll still defend you. I’ll kill any guy that looks at you, got that, Y/N?”

You roll your eyes at his little knight speech. “Yeah, yeah, sure you will.” You’d love to see him find out it’s Steve. Would he really try to fight his favorite male figure?

***

You skip into Family Video, excited to see Steve to tell him to watch out because of Dustin. You see Robin, who smiles at you. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Buckley.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You couldn’t just tell Dustin that I was with you?”

She’s pointing at you, brows furrowed. “What? And then it turns out you’re dead and the last person to see you is me? Nah, tell me next time you need an alibi, and I’ll be there. Otherwise, I’m freaking out trying to find you too.”

You roll your eyes and put your hands up in surrender, “Yeah, yeah, OK. I’ll let you know next time.”

Steve comes out from the back and instantly lights up at the view of you. He jogs over to you, grabs your waist, and kisses you.

“Ew, you two need a room. And not the back room.” Robin has a disgusted look on her face.

He rolls his eyes at her and grabs your hand in his, and in his other hand he grabs a few VHS tapes that need to be put away. He leads you into the romance section, drops tapes into their correct places, then turns, grabs your face, and kisses you. Your hands wrap into his hair, pulling him closer. You two are out of view of the front counter and the front window, so no one will see.

You pull away, leaning your forehead against his. “Aw, how romantic, bringing me to the romance section,” you giggle.

“Only the best for my girl.”

He goes to lean back into you for a kiss when the one person you didn’t even think of pops up. “What in the ever living hell is this?!”

You both turn, letting go of each other and putting space between the two of you, staring at Dustin. Because of his yell, Mike, Max, and Lucas come running over to see you two.

“Ha! I told you! I told you she had a secret boyfriend! Who knew it was Harrington, though?” Lucas jokes.

Dustin turns and smacks his arm, then turns his attention back to you and Steve. “Harrington! How could you? My sister?!”

“Hey! They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Max comes to your defense. You two had a great relationship, you were the big sister she never had.

Steve is lost for words, but you start laughing. They all turn to you, looking like you’re crazy. “Oh fuck, sorry, Steve. I forgot to tell you, Dustin said last night he’d ‘defend my honor’ by hurting whoever looks at me. Better get ready for a fight, Stevie.”

“Ew! ‘Stevie’! You even have pet names? Disgusting. How long has this been going on?” Dustin has his hands on his hips. You couldn’t help but keep laughing. You knew he was pissed, but seeing him this mad was funny.

Steve grabs your hand, smiling, and says, “Three months.”

“Three goddamn months?! And no one told me?”

“Wait, you didn’t even tell me?” Max looks offended.

“No one told you because of this reaction, Dustin. We both knew you’d be pissed finding out we were dating. And Max, I love you, but I knew you’d tell Lucas, who can’t keep his mouth shut and then Dustin would find out.” You’ve calmed your laughter and rolled your eyes.

“But three months? When were you gonna tell me? When I get the wedding invite?” she says, hurt. You wrap your arm around her. You didn’t think of how she’d react.

“You can be my flower girl, Max,” you smile and kiss the top of her head, rubbing her arm.

“You guys are getting ahead of yourselves; chill out,” Steve says, putting his hands up and shaking his head.

You look at Steve, “What? You don’t wanna marry me?”

“Yeah? Is my sister not good enough for you?” Dustin is defensive.

Steve’s eyes are flicking between the two of you. “What in the hell?”

You start laughing and kiss Steve. “I’m kidding, dummy.”

“Ew, oh god, is this gonna happen all the time now? Fuck I don’t wanna see this,” Dustin coveres his eyes like a child.

“Now you know how I feel, Dustin,” Mike says, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Thank god I don’t have an older sister for Harrington to try and date,” Lucas laughs.

“Hey, dweebs, I don’t plan on dating anyone else. And Henderson, you don’t have to worry. I’m not planning on hurting Y/N. And if I do, which I won’t, you’re the first person that can beat the shit out of me.” Steve’s pointing at Dustin, giving him the OK.

You roll your eyes. “Um, no. The first person to beat the shit out of you will be me. Dustin will be second.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, the Hendersons can tag team beating the shit outta me. Does that sound good?”

You look at Dustin, who’s smiling at you. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Wait, I deserve a turn!” Max raises her hand.

“Oh my god, you all get a turn to beat the crap out of me, OK?” Steve ruffles his hair, annoyed.

“I guess it makes sense. Y/N was always our first babysitter, and Steve became our second. It was only a matter of time before they started dating.” Lucas says, shrugging. He seems the least affected.

“Great, now we’ll always have two babysitters around rather than just one at a time,” Mike rolls his eyes, walking away and checking out the action aisle. Lucas follows.

Dustin stares at the two of you for a second. “I swear, I don’t want to know if you two are, but if I find out or walk in on the two of you having sex, I will kill the both of you.”

“Wow, too much, Henderson,” Steve shoves his shoulder.

“No, that’s my sister. It’s not too much.”

“Dustin, it is. Shut up. Go pick out a movie with your friends.” You push him towards his friends.

“Gross. Why is he like that?” Steve asks you.

“I’m not sure. He’s annoying.” You grab his hand and lean into him.

“If it means anything, I’ve been rooting for the two of you to date for a while.” Max pipes up.

“Oh yeah? Why?” Steve asks.

“Because Y/N obviously had a crush on you. She always talked about you and would stare and was definitely jealous of Nancy for a while.” Your eyes go wide and you stare at Max.

“Hey, go check out movies with the boys. Shoo. Go,” you brush her away, and wave your hands at her. She rolled her eyes and walked away.

“Oh, so you were a bit obsessed with me, huh?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You smack his chest playfully. “Shut up. I’m still obsessed with you, but at least I know you’re obsessed with me too.” You lean up and kiss him, his hands moving your hips.

“Hey you two! Knock it off!” Dustin yells. Steve doesn’t move from you, he just flips him off and dips you, keeping his lips on you.

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allhellbreakslose

2 years ago

a/n: i want to clarify shortly that reader did survive, just isn't awake in this fic heh. sorry lovelies. lov ya.

request: Steve x reader where reader gets hurt badly by the demobats instead of eddie and Steve is trying to keep her alive. Angst but fluffy end where reader ends up surviving |PART TWO!|

warnings: little women spoilers lol, st vol. 2 spoilers ig, fluff and lil angst

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (established relationship)

w/c: 1.5k

read part one here!

the room was white. too white.

steve had memorized it all by now, anyway. the white walls, white bedsheets, white tiles that built the floor, and the white, blinding, sickening lights.

the cold tones matched your skin, pale and just a tiny hue of pink covering your cheeks, assuring him that yes, you were alive, and yes, you did survive.

the room wasn't by any means homey. it was cold, with no windows except the one that let anyone outside in the hall watch into the intimacy of what was supposed to be a private room for you, where you could heal peacefully and without the eyes of anyone that'd want to look into the vulnerability of either you or steve.

the beeping sound of the machine beside you was far too familiar to steve— a sound he'd hear the entire time he was awake, and in his dreams, too.

he'd be visiting you all day long, everyday. he'd look at you, enjoying the way your features seemed so relax and trying to ignore the reason why this was like that was because you hadn't woken up since that day.

he'd read your favourite book, the same one you'd read to him on his bed, after fighting monsters and getting a new trauma to add to the list, while stroking his head and letting the sweet and steady sound of your heartbeat lull him to sleep.

"beth dies?!", he'd cry. "are you fucking kidding me?! she was my favourite one!" he'd always fall asleep before you got to read the sister's death to him. also, steve would know you'd argue with him about amy being the best character. "and from scarlet fever?! who dies from fucking scarlet fever?!" he'd complain. he'd also know you'd answer him something snarky. "she did, steve. along with thousands of people in fucking 1860s," he'd almost be able hear your voice.

he'd bring his walkman along, making a quick turn to the music store before driving to the hospital to buy the newest fleetwood mac album, then spending those rare nights he'd sleep at his house making you a cassette with all the songs so you'd be able to listen to it through his walkman— he'd put the headphones over yout head and let you listen to the entire album.

"s'cool, isn't it?" he'd sway his head to the song. "yeah, i listened to it on the radio the other day. figured you'd like this one the most," he'd say. "i'm still unable to understand your obsession with what's-his-name. is it because he has blue eyes? it is, isn't it?"

"does it mean you don't like my eyes, though?" he'd almost pout at the thought. his eyes were your favourite, and he knew it. him doubting it was only part of his dramatic antics. "babe?" he'd call, waiting for a response and sighing sadly when he wouldn't get any.

he'd also bring food for him and eat it next to you, talking about work, about the kids.

"max is doing so much better, too," he'd say, mouth full of chinese food, and he'd chew loudly— something you absolutely hated, but you weren't really awake to scold him, so he'd do it, anyway. either way, he'd try to annoy you even when you were phisically unable to annoy him back (all out of love, though). "her vision is getting better. it's still blurry, though. she complains about it a lot. but, hey, s'better than nothin', right?" he'd continue chewing. "doctors said she was probably never going to be able to see again. so, her actually seeing is huge."

"how's dustin doing?" he'd ask, as if he were repeating whatever you'd asked him. he'd sigh. "not so good. little dude's been in his room a lot. won't let any of us in," with a shake of his head, steve would continue. "i tried talking to him. hoped he'd open up a lil, y'know? and, i don' know. i miss him, too. he's my little brother."

then, at night, he'd bring the little sofa closer to your bed, grab your hand and rest his head on the mattress, so he was still looking at you while playing with your fingers. "i talked to your mom this morning." he'd confess. "she invited me over for breakfast, asked how i was doing."

then, when the hospital was quieter and dark from the lack of light outside, everyone sleeping when he should be, too, he'd let the emotions come in— a few tears falling from his eyes and a few quiet sobs shaking his body. "she's great. she— she misses you so much, baby," steve would wipe a tear away. "i don't think she's given up. i don't think she'll ever give up on you. i won't, either."

"you will wake up, sweetheart. i promise you you'll wake up."

and steve didn't believe in any god. but, that night, and every other night, steve would pray.

he'd pray for your eyes to open, pray to see the life in your eyes again. he'd pray to have those precious moments with you again, with you scolding him for chewing too loudly or talking with a mouthful. he'd pray to hear you comfort dustin and be there for max while she got her vision back. he'd just know dustin would open up as soon as he heard it was you on the other side of his door. because it was you. and you always made everything better.

and later, when the clock almost struck the early hours in the morning, sleep almost consuming his own figure, but his fingers still playing with yours, he'd ever so softly hum to your favourite song. the song you'd both dance to in his kitchen when his parents weren't around, when he'd cook you breakfast and you were fine and beautiful and awake. the song you'd listen to in the car, the windows down and the soft sway of your head to the beat of the music, and steve would have to make himself look forward before he got into a crash because he was too busy staring at you.

in the morning, he'd say good morning and tell you about his dream. his dreams and yours were always so crazy. you'd tell him it probably had to do with what you went through— traumas related to russians, monsters with heads similar to flowers but with teeth, gigantic spiders that controlled minds and a psicopath from another dimension that killed teens.

he'd only say he was glad they, at least, were dreams. it was your routine: you'd wake up next to each other, cuddling for a few minutes and talking about whatever crazy dream you had had while he played with your hair and you laid on his chest, legs interwined and sould that matched.

the mornings at the hospital, he'd quickly tell you his dream while eating the extra pudding the nurse secretly braught him, kiss your head and head off to work, working only one shift so he could make it back to you as quickly as possible.

he also knows you'd probably complain about that, too. something about not having to lose money from quitting a shift only for you. "gotta take care of my girl," he'd probably answer you. "it's not like i'm losing much, either, right? most exciting thing i could be missing out's keith actually getting a date from a costumer."

"robin says hi," he'd tell you as soon as he enters your room, bending down to kiss your head and sit on his usual spot next to your bed. "said she'll probably be joining us later tonight. said somethin' about bringing your favourite movie and some popcorn. what would you think of a movie night, pretty girl?" he'd ask. "like good ol' times, heh?"

at the memory, he'd smile sadly. he couldn't wait to do it again.

later that night, the tv would be closer to the bed, having had been rolled over by both robin and steve, each of them sitting on each side of the bed, back to the future playing on the tv. "d'ya think marty mcfly's hot?" steve would ask robin, who'd be chewing some popcorn while dropping a few more into her mouth. "dude, i'm gay," she'd remind him with a confused face. steve would nod. "yeah— i know, but she—,"he'd accuse you while pointing his thumb to you. "—had a crush on him when the movie came out."

"what year are we talking about?" she'd ask him. "last year."

"didn't you start dating like— days before christmas last year?"

"yeah, but that's not the point—"

robin would groan. "steve, you're, like, the most precious human being to her. seriously. she wouldn't shut the fuck up about you before you two got some ovaries and started fucking dating," she's reassure him, earning a bright smile from him. "she wouldn't?"

"never," robin would nod. "every day?" steve would ask. "every day." she'd confirm.

steve would look back to you, blushing and giving your cheek a kiss, grabbing your hand in his and playing with your fingers, like usual.

god, he couldn't wait to hear from you all you told robin about him.