summary: you’re happy to ditch college and visit robin on your breaks, especially because she’s befriended Steve Harrington and you can’t deny he’s easy on the eyes. this winter, however, you’re asked to play the role of steve’s fake girlfriend, because he’s kinda sorta told his parents about you, and you kinda sorta have to kiss.
contents/warnings: fem!reader, pining, fake dating, slight angst but resolved to fluff in the end, steve’s evil evil parents
I just had a Vision of Steve watching reader put her hair up in curlers for the night and just being a lil obsessed with her and if the fancy strikes you to write smth for him I'd love to read that scenario
If you move even an inch, you’re dead.
Steve’s breath fans over your face, his nose a millimeter away from your cheek as he stares at the side of your face. You’re painstakingly arranging your hair into curlers, and Steve has taken to watching you from the closest possible point, one of his thighs slung over yours as he encroaches on your space at your bedroom vanity.
“Stop.” You insist, your willpower to keep your arms elevated and aching draining with each second that Steve tempts you with his presence, “Don’t you dare.”
Securing one more curler means that your head tilts to the left and your cheek is promptly stamped with Steve’s kiss. The bastard had kept his lips puckered in anticipation, dammit, and you’d fallen right for his trap.
“Steve!” You gush, your arms burning the longer you hold them over your head, your fingers raw from the scratchy surface of the curlers, “Do not distract me right now! It’ll only take longer if we take a break.”
“You don’t need the rest,” Steve reasons, his voice low and smooth and tantalizing, but you absolutely do, because you’ve only done the top section of your hair, and it’ll be evident if you don’t. His face is now glued to your own- you’ve leaned back, but he’s chased after you, so viciously that you feel yourself slip from the wooden stool, nearly hitting the ground until Steve’s large arms come to bracket your bum.
But now it’s worse, because he’s on the floor with you, and he’s stationing himself between your legs, and he’s leaning over you, and his lips are aiming for your own, and one lone curler is digging into the back of your scalp instead of a whole head of them, and you have to get out of here before you give up on any hope of having your hair styled tomorrow-
You wriggle out from beneath his arm, but he catches you by the ankle and tugs. You slide backwards, hands outstretched and clawing at the carpet as you shriek, “Aah- no! No- Steve!”
“You’ve been doing that forever,” He slumps his weight onto you, and you’re flat on the floor, chin against the carpet while Steve’s nose digs into the back of your uncurled hair. He’s heavy, but almost comforting as he sprawls out over you, and his hands worm themselves beneath your stomach as he settles in.
“It’s only been fifteen minutes! I need, like, an hour sometimes,” You groan, and he echoes the sound into the back of your head.
“It’s already almost eleven. Do you know how early I had to get up to take Dustin to his stupid orientation-thing? I’m tired, and I want to sleep,” He counts each ailment with kisses along the back of your neck, “And I don’t do that without my girlfriend there.”
“I’m not sleeping like this,” You insist, your lungs compressed but your arms finally sighing in relief as they rest limply against the carpet. They’re seized, though, all of a sudden, when Steve hoists himself up off of you and pins your wrists together at the small of your back like you’re handcuffed.
“I will let you get up,” He bargains, his voice sounding the part as he speaks sternly, “if you swear you won’t reach for those stupid curlers again. I want to sleep tonight.”
“If I don’t,” You glance behind you, straining to meet Steve’s eyes, “You have to.”
“What?”
“You finish for me. I can’t go out tomorrow with my hair half-curled. And my arms are tired, so it drags near the end. But you,” You reason, keeping your tone light and lilting, enticingly so, “You’ve just been sitting there staring at me. So I bet your arms aren’t as tired as mine, and you can go faster than me.”
Steve’s quiet for a moment, but he asks scrutinizingly, “So once I’m done, you’ll come to bed with me?”
“Exactly,” You nod, giddiness rising in your chest at the prospect of tricking Steve into curling your hair for you, “Come on, Steve, it’s not that hard. How tired are you?”
“Stupid tired.” He scoffs, dropping your wrists to reach for the curlers lying in wait on the countertop, “Just wait and see, babe. I’m gonna curl your hair so fast you won’t even be able to see me move. And they’re gonna be perfect, too.” He sets about rolling your hair into place, struggling as strands slip off and tangle themselves within the velcro, “Best curls you’ll ever see- don’t you dare try and take over again.”
“Oh, I won’t,” You hum, tiredness seeping into your own bones as you stifle a yarn against the heel of your hand, “Can’t wait to see how amazing they are tomorrow, Stevie.”
I just read a fic that instead of porn w plot, was a age Gap relationship where the stressed older man couldnt get his dick up and she just reassured and cuddled him. And I didn't know I would find this HOT
i’m clenching my fucking fists rn. if it’s someone i read about i need you to send it to me anon
my roommate’s friends share the honor of being certifiably the loudest talkers in the entire world and !! ladies and gentlemen they were in my apartment last night from the hours of 1-4AM
Mei my dad made me watch the first avatar movie (I've got nothing against the films I've just never cared for them) but I fear I'm starting to get the Jake sully hype
they’re on my list!!! now that i’m in an apartment my mom won’t be using my tv all the time and maybe i’ll have a little movie marathon of them
seventeen - attacca
