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taytrashmouth · 7 months

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Hi! Can I request the first prompt with Steve please!

Love this!!!!!

Prompt: “you’re being all cute and sweet and it’s making me want to kiss you.”

Character: Steve Harrington, stranger things

Steve Harrington x reader

It was late on a Saturday evening, your parents were at work and Steve’s parents were on some vacation in France.

All they knew was that you were at home ‘studying’. You were at Steve’s house, your boyfriend.

“Steve!” You called from the shower.

“Mmmm!”

“Do you have any clothes I could borrow?” You yelled from the other side of the door.

He knocked a few seconds later, and he handed you an old t-shirt and some boxers, he was looking away, at something for school with a pen in his mouth.

You shut the door again. “Is that your college application essay?” You asked.

“Yeah! I just- I keep messing up and I don’t know how to fix it.” He sighed, flipping onto his bed. “I feel so dumb you know?”

“Let me read it.” You stated opening the door and drying off your hair with a blue towel.

He smiled at you. Like you were the only thing that mattered. So you smiled back.

“It’s so unfair, My clothes always look better on you.” He whined as you settled with your back to his chest, leaning on his headboard. He held your torso tight and rested his head in your neck. Your legs were intertwined.

“No I think you look super sexy in your Freddy Kruger t-shirt.” You joked, smiling up at him and he hugged you tighter.

You read the essay while he rested on your shoulder. Clearly tired from the past week.

“Steve?” You asked after a long silence.

“I know-, it’s stupid and I don’t really have good ideas for the essay. And I feel like it’s obvious that I’m stupid- and they want someone who’s smart you know-“ he began to rant.

You turned around, straddling him.

“Steve-“ you interrupted.

He looked at you, very distressed.

You held his cheeks. “You’re not stupid.” Suddenly he looked like the weight of the world had hit him.

Your sad face, and the years of being told he was dumb crashing onto him.

“Fuck.” He choked as he began to cry. “This is so- sorry-“ he apologised and wiped his face.

“Hey, don’t apologise, it’s okay to cry. I was going to say I really liked the essay, I thought it was a really different perspective on going into the world. You know most people they, say what the university wants to hear, but you wrote from your heart.” As you spoke you wiped his tears which made him cry more.

“And I don’t think you’re stupid. You know how to bake, and fix a car, you can do my hair- which I can’t even do.” At this he chuckled.

“You are kind and that’s more than most boys know how to do-, and you built me a bookshelf…and I love books. You’re thoughtful, and you find solutions to things that most people ignore. You’re good with kids.”

. “And a bonus is that you’re like super hot.” You shrugged, fixing his hair that has fallen into his face.

He smiled.

“You’re being all cute and sweet and it’s making me want to kiss you.” Steve whispered.

Your smile reached your eyes. “That’s okay.”

He smiled into the kiss, smothering you. Kissing your lips first, then your cheeks and your forehead.

He stopped abruptly and held your arms. “I love you.” He spoke. This was the first time he’d said it.

You paused for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face. “I love you more.”

He let out a breath of relief. Memories of Nancy leaving his head, he’d been scared to say it since.

Soon he was kissing you again, long and passionate.

#stranger things #y/n #stranger things fanfiction #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrigton x reader #steve stranger things #x reader #steve #steve st4 #steve harrington #fanfiction prompts #dialogue prompt

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romantique-dreams · 2 years

Text

SAFE & SOUND ‒ S.H

summary: it was a long few days at work, and you were in need of some much needed tranquility time, but you didn't know you would end up on a table with your shirt off. leave it to steve to be your saving grace.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ minors dni!, drinking, swearing, topless reader, fluff, steve's paternal instincts kicking in, being drunk, descriptions of the act of vomiting. (that's all i can think of please let me know if you find more!)

“Hello?” Steve spoke, weary eyed, and dressed in only his boxers.

“Hey man, sorry to bug you so late. You have gotta come get your girl,” Eddies voice crackled over the wall phone. “She’s been a menace tonight, dancin’ on tables, strippin’ and shit.”

You had told Steve you were going to a small get together that night. It had been your first night off of work, and you were really looking for some much needed time with friends. Steve was invited but opted to stay home, not wanting to smother you too much since you were already at his place almost every night of the week. He wanted you to go have fun, but not as much fun as Eddie made it sound. It’s not that he didn’t want you to enjoy yourself, but you were a clumsy being; so much so that you had managed to burn a meal you were cooking and then spill it all over, ultimately slipping in the process. He can only imagine how you were with drinks in you.

“No, you’re fine. I’ll‒,” he was interrupted by a loud yawn. “Sorry, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Okay, good. Hey, stop! No more drinks for you! Son of a‒,” and with that the line went dead. Steve could hear you fumbling with god knows what in the kitchen, and protesting that you were fine and it was ‘just one more shot’.

He let out a small chuckle and shuffled around his room, slippers scuffing against the hardwood floors.

It was mid fall in Hawkins, leaves were starting to to change color and litter the ground, the air was bitterly cold in the shade, and the sun was starting to disappear into its hibernation for the winter time. He knew you were going to be cold, but he also knew you were going to go out kicking and screaming, so he was going to bring an incentive. He was bringing you one of his sweatshirts that smelled of him, specifically wearing it since you requested one when you left his house the night before. You never turned down one of his sweatshirts, it was always a safe haven for you.

He slipped himself into a long sleeve henley shirt, the top few buttons undone, and slid some plaid pajama bottoms over his legs. Steve’s hair looked like he had just been through hell and back ‒ fly aways everywhere with some sticking straight up. The things he did for you. He departed from his warm room with another yawn and went out to his burgundy BMW while he twirled the keys around his finger, the sedan roaring to life as he turned the keys in the ignition.

You were on the table, swinging your shirt in the air as Eddie was scrambling over to you, his fingers pinched over the bridge of his nose. You were only wearing your bra and a pair of jeans at this point, and it was hard to avoid the awkwardness of it all on Eddie’s end. He was shielding his eyes from your top half, staring at the shoes that were now scuffing his kitchen table.

“For the love of god, can you please get down? I don’t want you hurting yourself, Steve will literally end me,” Eddie pleaded with a soft tug of your ankle, careful not to pull too hard, knowing you would most likely topple to the ground.

“No, I’m having fun up here‒,”

“Just get down, Y/N.” Steve was now standing in front of you, face firm, and eyes laced with worry. He held out the sweatshirt in front of him, wiggling it in his grip.

You locked your eyes with his and then down to the sweatshirt, a blush blazing your cheeks. Looking at him brought you back to reality; you were topless, hair a mess, dancing on a table with a cup in your hand. God, this was embarrassing. You willingly obliged and sloppily climbed off of the dining room table, Steve’s gentle touch on your elbow as he helped you get down. Steve didn’t necessarily care how you looked, but being topless in front of all your friends, including Eddie, wasn’t an appealing thought. He handed you the sweatshirt, and you quickly slipped it over your bare top half, nuzzling your nose into the neck of the hood.

Liquor was coursing through your veins, a haze was glazed over your half-lidded eyes, and your body swayed back and forth as you were still. You felt good, this was what you needed, until the nausea had set in. Steve was already escorting you out of Eddie’s trailer with a small ‘thank you for taking care of her’. Your stomach was doing flips, on a never ending roller coaster. You slowed your walk out to Steve’s car and hunched over, your mouth salivating and dripping off of your bottom lip. Your throat began to tighten as you felt the beginning of a gag coming, you hadn’t eaten much so hopefully nothing would come up. Your valiant effort didn’t do much, and the contents of your stomach were left on Eddie’s front yard.

Steve was quick to notice the color draining from your face, easing you gently by rubbing circles on the small of your back as he slipped a hand in your hair to pull it from your face. He whispered small comforts into your ear, closing his eyes tightly with small crinkles forming around them. He wasn’t one that handled vomit all too well, but once again the things he did for you. A few more rounds of expelling all that you had in you passed and you sat yourself up. There was snot dripping from your nose that gathered at your cupid's bow, and rivulets of tears were staining your cheeks, leaving tread marks of mascara behind. If you had looked like a mess before, you looked like a disaster now.

“Let's get you goin’, yeah? We’ll get you in bed all freshly showered, okay?” Steve offered, and wrapped his lanky arm around your torso, his bicep flexing from the weight you leaned onto him as you walked.

You nodded blearily and accepted his help to get you to the car. The brunette opened the passenger side door for you, and even went as far as buckling you in and shutting the door after. Steve always had a paternal instinct within him, there was always a need to take care of whoever he was around. He felt like it was his duty to make sure every person he was ever in contact with should feel cared for and comfortable. He would go to any measure necessary as long as that resulted in alleviation of any struggles, or just feeling safe. He had never really gotten in touch with this protective side of him while in school, considering he was surrounded by complete assholes most of the dreadful 4 years; but it wasn’t until he came in contact with a group of ruthless kids and otherworldly monsters. He felt the most like himself in the timespan of fighting for his life and the kids, he was where he was meant to be. He could feel the utter joy spread throughout his body, his eyes lighting up like small fairy lights whenever he was able to put someone at ease, or bring a smile to their face.

You fell forward, elbows resting on your knees, your face in your palms. You were now fighting a constant battle of trying not to throw up or pass out, not really succeeding at either. Once again you were now emptying the bile left in your stomach out of the passenger side window, Steve’s hand finding your back as he kept one on the stairs. He shushed you softly while the radio drowned out your gagging sounds, the bile burning the back of your throat. When you felt like this, you had always gotten emotional, scared of getting yelled at or reprimanded. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes once you had finished.

Eventually you were both pulling into Steve’s driveway, his hand finding its way to your thigh, soft gentle squeezes being placed in order to provide you some sort of comfort. He hated seeing you when you didn’t feel good. He swiftly got out of the car after unbuckling you, pressing a warmhearted kiss to your forehead. In no time you were picked up with your legs hung over Steve’s forearm and his other hand cradling the curve of your back.

“Gonna get you inside, mmm‒, then we’re gonna get you a shower and layin’ down. Can’t have my sweet ‘thang feelin gross,” he whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning against the shell of your ear.

You nodded weakly in response, and sighed.

Your throat was raw, your head was pounding, your nose was congested to the point of no return, and you just over all wanted to crawl into a hole. This was supposed to be a night of relaxation, to forget about work, and be able to have fun for once; clearly that was not happening.

He carried you through the entrance of his house and upstairs to the bathroom that was next to his room. He set you on the toilet with a ‘stay right there’, and left to get a change of clothes for you. He picked some items of clothing out for you, with a specific crew neck in mind; his yellow one that seemed to go missing every other month. He returned to the bathroom with the articles of clothing and set them down on the bathroom sink.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you undressed, okay? Do you need help or do you think you can do it yourself?” Steve quirked an eyebrow up with a slight smile tugging on his lips.

“No‒, no. I don’t need any help, I’m okay,” you rasped out.

You proceeded to slip off your clothes, starting with the sweatshirt that was given to you earlier by Steve. You followed with removing your bra, and pants with your underwear. Steve was careful not to ogle too much ‒ his mind in a constant state of confliction. You were so beautiful. He could drink in your silhouette for hours, getting lost in each one of the colorful flecks in your irises.

Steve started the shower, steam seeping into the air, layering everything in the bathroom with a sticky film. He grabbed your hand in his and helped you into the shower. Your eyes shut reluctantly, letting out an appeased exhale.

“Steve, could you‒, can you get in with me?” You whispered sheepishly over the sound of the running water. You really just wanted him near you, considering all of the embarrassment you surrounded yourself with tonight.

“Of course, sweet heart.”

Without hesitation Steve stepped into the shower, still clad in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt. The water quickly seeped into the fabric and clung to his body, outlining each feature on his able-bodied figure. He pulled you tightly to him before beginning to shampoo your hair. He rounded his fingertips on the crown of your head and slowly worked down to the hairs on the nape of your neck. You were melting into his touch, each rub more pleasing than the first. Once he was done shampooing he switched spots with you and gently leaned your head back. Each movement was tedious and laced with devotion. He was careful to shield the water from your eyes as it dripped down to your forehead while he rinsed out your intoxicatingly sweet shampoo. He moved onto the conditioner, only focusing on the ends because he remembered how you told him it got too greasy if you put it into your roots.

“Thank you so much, Stevie boy. Love you so, so much,” you babbled as he squirted some body wash onto your loofah that you kept at his house.

“Anything for you, sweets. Always gonna be here to take care of you.”

He paid close attention to his gentle motions of the loofah against your chest while the bubbles began to lather up on your velvety skin. As he finished washing you, ridding you of tonight's events, he turned you around once more to rinse the remaining conditioner out of your hair. His clothes were now fully saturated with water, socks and all. His brunette strands were ultimately plastered to his forehead, and small water droplets fell from his ridiculously unfair eyelashes, pooling at the tip of his chin. Steve gave you one last kiss to your cheek and stepped out of the bathroom, quickly changing into a different pair of clothes, discarding them outside on the balcony. He made sure to throw the clothes in the dryer to warm them a bit before you put them on.

He was quick to return to the bathroom and reached in to shut the water off and help you out. He wrapped a large bath towel around you, and placed one around your shoulders, knowing you got cold after your showers. He then started to ruffle one into your hair, wrapping as best as he could with the position you were sitting in on the toilet.

“Time to get ‘ya dressed,” Steve raised his eyebrows, waving the clothes in front of you.

He was nimble in getting you dressed in clothes, pulling you into a soft embrace immediately after. Steve’s love language had been physical touch, always being the first to place chaste kisses all over your cheeks, and show you his fondness of you.

He escorted you to his bedroom, tucking you in beneath the sheets that were covered in his scent, the smell alone almost putting you to sleep. He left after, but returned with a glass of water and some saltine crackers for if you were hungry in the middle of the night.

“Alright you get some rest now. I’ll be in bed in a little, gotta give my gratitude to Eddie for puttin’ up with your trouble butt.”

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah, Y/N?”

“I love you so much, thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate it.”

Steve grabbed your small hands in his, his chestnut eyes boring holes into you.

“Absolutely anything for you, okay? I will always be takin’ care of you, my angel baby.”

a/n: i'm so sorry this is so rushed, i wanted to get it out as soon as possible. i'm going to be skimming over to see if i can find anything that i missed in my quick proofreading. likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! let me know if you liked it! -g

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