stcveharringtcn - Tumblr blog

stcveharringtcn · 2 years

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150 Random Writing Prompts

There’s some fluff, some smut, some angst, and some funny prompts all mashed up from a bunch of prompt lists I’ve found. Absolutely none of these prompts came from me, I just threw a bunch of ones I liked together.

“Come over here and make me.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“I almost lost you.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Kiss me.”

“It could be worse.”

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

“Just once.”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“Wanna dance?”

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“You did all of this for me?”

“I swear it was an accident.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

“I fucking hate you”

“He’s dead, again.”

“It’s hard to get used to…” “what is?” “Being someone that someone cares for…”

“The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.”

“It hurts…” “what?” “Loving someone who doesn’t love you…”

“Let me do this, please.”

you’re not as funny as you think you are

i’m just getting comfy

just because you can doesn’t mean you should

how don’t you know the difference between your left and right?

thank you for being in my life

text me when you’re home

you are such a nerd

why are you so cold?

stop laughing at me

you were put on this earth to give me a headache

you’re ticklish

can we go home yet?

you are a terrible influence

one of us is clearly smarter than the other

you need some sleep

how have you survived this long by yourself?

are you just quoting song lyrics?

i’m only here for the dog

sleep is for the weak

that was you?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What? I have never-”

“I do not have an answer for you.”

“In my defense, I really wanted to.”

“At least I didn’t break any laws.”

“What did you do this time?”

“How do we get out?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Just marry me already.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Did I just say that out loud?”

“H-How long have you been standing there?”

“I’ve never felt this way before and I’m terrified to be honest.”

“Is that what you call an apology?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Somebody’s in love!”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person.”

“I’m never leaving…I promise.”

“Uh, am I interrupting?”

“I like you, like like you like you.”

“Be my Valentine?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, I love you.”

“You’re so fucking cute.”

“Stop being a fucking prick.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“You’re my everything.”

“I love seeing you smile.”

“i’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“ i can’t get enough of you.”

“i like being close to you. you’re warm.”

“i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know.”

“is this okay?”

“this is a one time thing.”

“you know where to find me.”

“you’re really good at that.”

“here’s my hotel room number.”

“don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

“Wanna join?”

“Stop doing that”

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

“Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

“ i think i might be in some kind of love with you.”

“say you want me, and i’m yours.”

“you need a place to stay for the night”

“i want to taste you”

“i love it when you talk dirty

“if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

“if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs”

“i don’t know what to do” “then let me teach you”

“i forgot my towel”

“this feels dirty” “that’s because it is”

“don’t cover you’re face, i want to see you”

“are you sure about this?”

“ive never wanted to fuck someone as badly as i want to fuck you rn”

“do you want help with that?”

“im going to fuck you until you forget that assholes name”

“bend over the desk love”

“is that my shirt?”

“my mother adores you.”

“is that a drawing of me?”

“i didn’t mean to say that but yeah, i love you.”

“i’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.”

“stop looking at me like that!”

“i didn’t know you could sing.”

“you weren’t supposed to hear that!”

“you wrote me a song?”

“i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.”

“this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you.”

“do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold”

“My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes”

“I’m not going anywhere”

“fuck you.” - “when?”

“no one’s ever made me feel like this.”

“here, let me help you.”

“we’re quite literally fugitives of the state.” - “so no pizza?”

“you’re insane.” - “people keep telling me that.”

“you’re pretty.” - “you’re drunk.”

“i told you i’d come home to you.”

“i’ll keep you safe.”

“i’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.”

“i didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.”

“please never stop smiling.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

“Shut up and take your pants off.”

“Wanna see what I’m wearing underneath all this?”

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

“How are you this perfect?”

“I’ve waited so long for this.”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

“Just let me finish this/this level and I swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh..no, I was just..” “Want some help?”

“Tell me again.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.” “Then do it.”

“I don’t care what you do just fuck me.”

“Stop distracting me.”

#send me requests plsssss #i’m working through them i promise #i’m just working on a smut i really wanna get out #then i’ll focus on requests this week

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stcveharringtcn · 2 years

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𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary a lot of things can happen before dinner. or, a snapshot into your life with steve, three daughters and a big secret. [3.1k]

warnings kid!fic, steve!centric / steve’s pov, dad!steve, mom!reader, afab!reader (reader is the birth mom of their three kids), fluff, a ridiculous amount of kisses and hugs, steve trying to figure out why you’re so tired and tense, pregnancy reveal, pregnant!reader, happy tears, a joke about lice (sorry), this was requested kind of here

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"Can we have popsicles?" Avery asks.

Steve looks down from where he's making dinner to find his three daughters. Avery, the oldest, stands at the front of their triangle with her puppy dog eyes already wide and shimmering. She's taller every time he looks at her lately. Constantly growing.

He wipes his hands on a hand towel. "Ave, dinner will be ready soon."

"Please?" asks Beth, the second oldest.

Beth, or more affectionately Bethie, stands at Ave's left. She's young enough to miss some words when speaking but old enough to hold very interesting conversation. She's also the Daddy's girl of the lot, and he almost cracks when she brings her two hands together pleadingly.

Steve doesn't even want to look at Dove because he knows she'll melt his reluctance instantly. Being the baby, she has a lot of power. She calls the majority of the shots these days. She's a little bit wobbly on her feet as she approaches, freshly turned two years old and the cutest thing Steve has ever seen.

"What do you think, Dove? You want a popsicle?" he asks, always encouraging her to speak. It's nearly unnecessary considering how often her sisters speak to her.

"Yes," Dove says quickly, pushing past her sisters to cling to his leg. She's usually a total mommy's girl. Her affection all but seals the deal.

He scoops her up with a smile. "Well…"

"Mom says it's okay," Avery adds.

"Yeah?" He grins at them. "If your mom says it's okay then you can definitely have popsicles."

They form a small crowd at the freezer. Steve pulls out the box and they're patient as they choose their favourite flavours. Raspberry for Beth, cherry for the other two. He peels back the thin plastic wrappings and encircles the wooden sticks with tissue paper to try and prevent sticky hands.

His three girls linger.

"What?" he asks, wondering why they haven't run off to finish watching their movie.

"Mom said we have to give you a kiss," Ave says.

"Did she?"

"Thank you kiss," Beth adds.

He squats down, beaming. "Your mom is totally right. You do have to give me kisses. At least one on each cheek."

He receives two prim kisses from Avery, two shy, soft ones from Beth and a very reluctant one from Dove, who's much more interested in her cold snack than any affection. He wipes the sticky kiss prints off of his cheeks and stands as they all totter out, a single form line that makes him want to take a picture.

Speaking of their mother, where are you?

He turns the pots on the stovetop to simmer and peeks his head into the living room, looking for you. You're not on the couch like he'd thought you'd be, Ave in your usual seat and Dove trying her best to climb up beside her. Steve watches her rub pink all over the couch and thanks god for fake leather.

"Where's mom?" he asks.

Only Beth looks up. "What?" she asks.

"Where's mommy, do you know?"

"She was upstairs," Ave says, lips stained cherry red.

"Can you keep an eye on Dove, please?"

Ave nods and wraps an arm around her little sister's shoulder protectively. He feels a swelling of pride.

Steve jogs up the stairs. You're in Beth's bedroom making her bed, looking very tired. Shoes off but coat still on, you've barely been home from work an hour. You're exhausted.

Steve believes that Friday night should be a time to relax. Let Saturday morning suffer all the neglected chores. Pushing yourself to clean won’t do you any favours.

"Hey, angel. Don't start in here, I'll do it after dinner."

You shrug and give him a small smile. "That's okay. I like doing it."

He waits for you to finish making the bed and then sidles into your space, arms around you in a hug before you know what he's doing. You smell like spearmint.

"You don't look the best," he says worriedly, arm behind your neck to hold you in place as he presses a firm kiss to your temple. "You need to take it easy."

You hug him back, your arms a familiar warmth against his back. "I'm okay, Stevie."

"I know, just…" He gives you another kiss before tucking you into his front. He doesn't say it. He hopes it's implied: how something happening to you would crush him into tiny pieces.

"I like taking care of them," you say. If he didn't know you better he'd think you were being defensive.

He pats your back with a big palm. "I know that. You're the best mom ever, babe."

You can't help smiling at his words, though you continue, "I don't want you to have to do everything."

"I don't do everything, Y/N, you're just tired tonight. It's okay to take a break. We'll do everything that needs to get done tomorrow. Or Sunday," he attempts a joke.

"You worked all day, too," you murmur.

Looking after your three kids is work. Hard work. He really does need your help when you get home. There's baths and homework and dinner. Even when the older pair are in school, there’s laundry, shopping, cleaning, and Dove is a full time job. An adorable, brilliant full time job, but demanding all the same. He wouldn't change it for the world.

With that in mind, Steve will always try to take the extra weight when you're not feeling up to it. In the same way you'll do it for him, in how you call in sick to work when there's too much laundry and the house is a tornado, or how you'll let him sleep in at the end of a long week and only wake him up when the breakfast is served and the kids are all dressed.

It's a partnership. It's being selfless, and asking for help when you need it.

He's told you that before and he knows you know it. He doesn't worry about telling you again, rubbing your back until you've gone lax in his arms.

"Dinner's ready," he says quietly. He pulls away from you, although it's the last thing he wants to do, and cups your face in his hand. "Think we should eat on the couch tonight? Might be nice. You can sit with Beth." And I'll have Dove, he doesn't say. Dove's the handful at meal times.

"Thanks," you say, looking up at him with way too much gratitude. He stomps it away ruthlessly – as in, with a chaste kiss and a squeeze of your cheek.

"We're a team," he says with a grin. "In case you forgot."

You lean into his touch. "I didn't forget." There's something very heavy in the way you say it. He chalks it up to how tired you are and shepherds you downstairs.

In the living room the kids are in disarray. All covered in sticky juice, Beth stands by the tv with her tissue in hand but her popsicle missing.

You find it soon enough in Ave's fist. The oldest holds both, seeming neither sad nor happy about it, Dove at her side gnawing on a naked stick. You slip it out of her hand and she looks like she might cry, but she’s quickly sated by the sight of you and your lips pressed to her crown.

Dinner and cleaning. Steve gives you the easier task. "You wanna go do dinner?"

You nod. You leave with Ave and Beth’s half-melted popsicles and return with a dampened hand towel for him. He accepts and smiles at you fondly, following your tense shoulders as you disappear down the hall.

Steve sits on the couch and wipes down Dove first. She hates it, to his chagrin, squirming and whining the whole while. Avery doesn't care, letting him clean her hands and cheeks with her eyes glued to the TV. She's old enough now to go wash her hands when asked but Steve loves to dote, telling her thank you with a bubbly affection that has her beaming.

He looks for his middle kid and finds her exactly where she'd been before, hovering in front of the TV.

"Beth, baby, c'mere," he prompts, holding out his hands. She climbs into his lap without a peep.

He cleans her small hands first. They're a lot like yours, especially the shape of her nails, and he takes very good care of them. "You have your mom's hands," he tells her.

Beth perks up. "I do?"

He holds up his hand. "See, they don't look anything like mine."

"Oh," she says, sounding put out. Where Dove favours her mom and Ave has learned to lie and say she loves her parents equally, Beth is a daddy's girl through and through.

"They're beautiful," he says quickly. "Just as pretty as your mom's."

She goes a little shy at the compliment, her face angling down. He tilts it up gently to wipe her warm cheeks clean.

She pouts as he rubs the towel over her lips, "Dad," she complains.

"What? Your lips are blue."

He pats her dry with an untouched corner and smiles, finding one of her hands to squeeze. "All done."

He isn't surprised when she stays in his lap. He worms an arm around her back and she collapses in the way little kids do, all at once like a balloon that's been popped. He lets his nose sink into her hair and breathes in her smell.

"Will you do me a favour?" he asks her quietly.

She looks up. "What?"

"Will you sit with your mom for dinner? She needs a good hug like this one." He lays the compliment down thickly.

Beth nods with a funny look on her face. He wonders what she's thinking but is quickly distracted — jealousy is a powerful emotion and soon there's tiny hands on his legs, Dove's crying still so much like a baby's that it makes his chest ache.

It's very bittersweet to have them growing up. He hates to admit that he misses having a little baby around and worries about telling you. He doesn't want you to think you have to want more, or feel guilty in any way if you don't.

In any case, Steve wants a huge family and he always has but he'd say easily that the one he has now is perfect the way it is.

He frowns as Dove bubbles into hysterics. "Bethie," he says apologetically.

Beth slides off of his lap and wanders into the kitchen as Steve takes Dove into his arms with a sigh. "You're not very nice to your sister, you know that?" He can't stay mad when she does the same thing as Beth had, dissolving in his lap.

Avery approaches wantonly.

"Ave? Do you want a hug?" he asks.

"I'm hungry," Ave says, draping herself over his legs, all drama.

"Your mom's doing it. You can go help, if you want to."

Ave climbs onto the sofa beside him. There’s a sheepishness to it that worries him, expecting an admission. A smashed glass or forgotten homework.

"What?" he asks her knowingly.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispers.

Steve frowns but quickly hides it away. "Sure, Ave. You can ask me anything."

She nods and her hand grasps his shoulder as she leans into his ear, her attempt at whispering clumsy and endearing. "Is mom okay?"

Steve narrowly avoids Dove's forehead slamming into his chin as he startles. "Why wouldn't mom be okay?"

"She was sick."

Steve blinks at her. "What?"

"She was throwing up. I asked if she was okay and she said to come ask you for the popsicles."

He doesn't know why you were throwing up. He'll ask, but first. "Ave," he murmurs, holding an arm out. She's as tall as him when she stands on the couch, and her head falls against his, her small cheek to his chin. Dove is quietly annoyed at his stolen attention. "Your mom is fine. I’ll take care of her."

"She's sad all the time this week."

He frowns. "Baby, she's not sad. She's tired. She's really tired, but I promise she's not sad. Don't worry about your mom, okay?"

Avery slides down the couch cushion behind her and away from him. "Okay."

He kisses the top of her head. "Thank you, princess," he says quickly.

He picks up Dove and carries her with him into the kitchen. You're almost done, and he's glad to have caught you.

Beth lingers by your legs. You're having a half conversation with her about school, wooden spoon in hand.

"Beth, let me talk to your mom?" he asks, giving her an apologetic smile. She grumbles all the way out of the room.

You look up at him with wide eyes. Dove, having seen you, wants to be in your arms rather than his. You take her and dot a few soft kisses over the side of her face as she settles in your hold.

"You were sick?" he asks, straight to the point, maybe a tiny bit angry that you hadn’t told him but more worried than anything.

"Just… a bit."

"You weren't gonna tell me?”

"I was. Later. After dinner."

He bumps your hip to take the pan of golden-brown veggies and starts to dish them out. "How long have we been together?"

You smile at him. It's always been hard to pinpoint when you stopped being Y/N and Steve and started being Y/N and Steve. Slowly, so slowly, you'd come together, and now all of a sudden you're a family down the line with no signs of coming apart.

"I need you to tell me when you're sick, no matter how busy you think I am." He scoops out what's left of the veggies onto your plate and then looks at you, worried you won't be able to eat. "Is it food poisoning? Nerves? I'll call the doctor after dinner, we'll-"

"It's not food poisoning."

He stares at you. Really stares at you. Thinks about how tired you've been. "Baby, are you-"

He cuts off when you lean against the kitchen counter behind you and promptly burst into tears. Quiet and fierce, fat teardrops crest your cheeks and don't stop. Dove looks rightfully panicked. Steve would find her concerned little face turning to him adorable any other time.

His heart breaks for you. "Hey," he says, frowning. "Hey hey hey, you're okay. It's okay. Come here, baby."

You let him hug you. One hand to your back, the other on Dove's, trying to manage her and comfort you at the same time.

"I'm sorry," you say, "I'm really sorry, I was gonna tell you tonight, when they were sleeping, and I wanted to tell you a week ago, Stevie."

You sound as young as you did when Steve first met you. "Baby," he murmurs, trying to be the calm to your panic. His thoughts come a thousand a second.

"I was going to tell you, I promise."

"Is that what you're worried about? I'm not mad." He speaks carefully, though the reality is sinking in, and his heart is racing.

You're pregnant.

He remembers the first time you'd told him, just like this, all tears and panic. Worried about how you'd do it, how you'd manage. And Steve had said exactly what he plans to say now – anything you want to do is what he wants to do. That he loves you. That you're perfect, and that your choice won't change that. He'd comforted you for days the first time. Weeks. Even after you'd made the decision to stay pregnant and to have Avery, you'd needed a lot of support and he'd given it to you in droves. He's more prepared to do it again.

You look up at him and you're smiling despite the tears.

He realises he might have miscalculated; you're overwhelmed by emotion, but that emotion isn't wholly unhappy.

You hold his gaze. "Steve," you say, tears pushed down your cheeks from the force of your smile.

His heart skips in his chest. It soars.

He crushes his lips to your forehead and laughs. "Oh my god," he says, kissing you haphazardly. "My girl. Holy shit."

"I got you a- a card," you say, still crying.

"Yeah?" he asks, feeling close to tears himself.

"S'in the car."

"I'm gonna get you more than a card. I'm gonna get you a parade."

"You're happy?" you ask him.

And there's so much to talk about: if you're ready for another baby, where the baby will fit, the mortgage and the car and the kids. Steve knows how it goes now, the hours upon hours of worrying and sorting and reassuring you and himself that it's something you can do if you want to.

More than if you're ready – if you can handle another baby. If you're well enough to be pregnant again. He looks at your poor tired face and feels that crushing awe he always feels when you are, can’t believe that right now you have a whole huge process taking place that could potentially become another Avery, or Beth, or Dove.

You sound like you want to do it. And if you want to, he's ecstatic.

"Are you kidding me? Baby." He plasters you in kisses. Every inch of your face. You giggle wetly and you're holding Dove so tight that she starts to laugh too, the three of you breathing in funny wet huffs as he paints over your skin with his mounting affection. He loves you so much he might die right there.

Beth appears in the doorway, quickly followed by Avery. The oldest is peeved.

"Dad! You told me she wasn't sad!" she says, distressed.

You laugh some more and are quick to comfort her. "I'm not sad, Avey-baby, these are happy tears."

"Why?"

You look at Steve with a precious, beaming smile. "You wanna tell them?"

He gives you another smacking kiss on your cheek. "You're my everything," he says to you, eyes locked.

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with a huge smile. He turns to the girls and grins maniacally.

"Mommy's got lice! They're sucking her blood and making her tired!"

"Steve!" you try to scold, your surprised laughter breaking up any real malice.

"And they're catching!"

"Ew!" Beth shouts.

Steve grabs Beth up and says, to her horror, "She already gave them to me, Bethie, and we have enough to go around."

He watches Ave cross the kitchen and hug your hip, still worried. You bend down to rub your nose against hers.

"Daddy, put me down! Now!" Beth screams, writhing away from him. She can’t escape his tight grip, practiced now in handling unhappy babies.

"Don't be like that, Bethie. Sharing is caring."

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thanks so much for reading! | my masterlist

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#steve harrington pls father my children sir #steve harrington x you #fic rec

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