*flip* *flip*

*flip* *flip*

“i can fix him” “i can make him worse” i can imagine him in little scenarios every night as i’m falling asleep

need to see him in those cowboy boots right NOW

maybe 2024 is the year the universe finally gives me a boyfriend

"what, baby?"

bestfriend!steveharrington x reader

word count: 1.1K words

content warnings: just giggly drunkenness and you and your best friend not knowing what personal space is..

let me know if you guys want a part 2!!!

“hi pretty girl.” steve slurs with a dopey smile, as you stumble over to him.

you giggle, letting him catch you as you pull him into the couch. “hi stevie..” you coo.

“where’ve you been?” he mumbles, shifting so he’s at your side, your leg draped over him.

“mmm- i’s’with eddie..” you slur, as steve pushes your hair behind your ear. “ohhh..” he trails off, letting his eyes drift down to your lips. you giggle and lean in, pressing your cheek against his as you wrap your arms around him and robin calls your name.

“y/n- woah- look! look look look!” she yells, dragging vickie over to show you that she has arrived.

you wave with a smile, trying to be polite, despite feeling steve’s open mouth on your throat, lips twisted into a smile as he hugs you tightly against him. you feel him laugh against your neck as eddie stumbles over to offer a drink to the new arrival, and you instinctually grab his arm.

“s-steve-“ you breathe. “what, baby?” he smiles. you look down at him and meet his glazed eyes and blown out pupils. “yeah?” he hums.

the tequila catches up to you as you mumble “I wanna kiss you..” an inch away from his open mouth. he groans, his eyebrows furrowing. “aw- you can’t just say that baby..” he shakes his head, but doesn’t stop inching even closer.

“mmm.. but I wanna-“ “I know I know.. me too- but I can’t- we can’t-“ he cuts himself off.

you pout, pushing your bottom lip out, and feel him harden under your leg. “alright- up…” he shakes his head, patting your hip. your jaw drops open as he starts to move towards the opposite side of the couch.

“wha- steve!” you whine, not caring how desperate you might look.

“we’re not- not doin this- we’re drunk-“ he tries to rationalize out loud. you huff but back off a little, knowing he’s right.

“what if we kissed when we were sober?” you suggest. he looks at you for a minute. “that’s not- you would still wanto?” he slurs. you nod instantly. “wanna do a lot with you..” you smile, pushing your lips into his neck, not quite kissing him.

his breathing picks up and you feel him groan softly. “y’gotta st-fuck..” he whimpers, pushing himself further into your touch. “just one..” you plead.

he sighs, pulling you on top of him. you giggle and throw your arms around his neck. “hi..” you breathe, resting your forehead against his. “hey..” he smiles. “we shouldn’t do this..” you admit, coming to your senses for just a second before sinking into him again. the corner of his mouth turns up a little. “yeah no- def- definitely shouldn’t..” he trails off, as your lips ghost over his.

“makes me wanna do it m-“ he cuts you off with his lips against yours and you moan softly before kissing him back.

he grabs at your back and you tangle your hands in his hair, making him quickly pull back. “mm.. y-cant..” he winces, making you giggle as you pull him in for another kiss and feel him get harder against your inner thigh.

“fuck..” you whimper softly, making him groan into the kiss.

“woah! what do we have here!!” eddie yells, snapping you out of it as he sits down right on the arm of the couch. steves head falls back and he shuts his eyes tight as he lets his hands fall to your waist.

he's a sight for sore eyes. his lips swollen and red and his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath that you stole.

eddie’s eyebrows are raised and his mouth hangs open as he looks between the two of you.

“wow harrington, never thought you’d actually grow the balls.” he teases. you open your mouth to make an out of pocket, alcohol-induced comment about how his ball’s definitely grew, but steve quickly slaps a hand over your mouth, as if reading your mind.

he gives you a look and you giggle, sinking into his chest. he lets his arm wrap around you and the two of you look up at eddie, who was even more shocked than before.

“aw.. well I’m happy for you two lovebirds.. make sure I’m invited to the wedding..” he winks before hopping up and leaving you alone.

you glance down at steve, who is still catching the last of his breaths.

“y’in there?” you ask softly. he nods, looking up at you. “mhm just- thinking..” he mumbles. you gasp. “steve harrington? thinking??” you tease. he glares at you and starts to throw you off of him. “no no no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry..” you giggle, clinging onto him as he brings you back into his lap. he’s smiling now and you sit up a little to get a good look at him.

“what’re you thinking about?” you ask genuinely.

“you.” he answers immediately.

“what about me?” you push a little more. “nothin in particular.. just always thinking about you..” he admits easily. your heart jumps but you try not to show it. “oh yeah?” you smile. he nods before subtly trying to pull you closer.

“aww does stevie wan’another kiss?” you coo. he rolls his eyes but still pulls your neck down to him in a bruising kiss. you smile against his lips and try to get even closer to him.

“steve I want- mmm..” you cut yourself off, knowing you were probably going too far. he pulls away to hear you out. “whatdya want baby?” he asks softly. you groan softly at the nickname.

“want you..” you look down at your lap, scared to meet his eyes.

“y/n..” he groans, his voice getting lower. you quickly meet his eyes to find them dark, his pupils taking them up. “m’sorry..” you apologize. “mm mm baby- don’t apologize.. want you too, s’just- we’re way too drunk to make decisions like that..” he explains. you know he’s right but you still tease him a little.

“what’re you talkin about? m’not drunk..” you giggle, sinking your face into his neck and placing a kiss there. he smiles, making his jaw tense up. “yeah me neither..” he chuckles, as you finally roll off of him. his hand follows you and comes to a rest on your thigh when you settle next to him.

“m gonna go get some water.. y’want some?” you ask, starting to stand up.

“sure.. y’tryin to sober up for me?” he smirks as you start to walk away.

you shake your head and smile at him. “just trying to put some distance between us!” you call before turning and heading for the kitchen.....

okay what are ur thoughts on challenging steve to edge himself everyday for no nut november 🫣 do you think he would make it through the entire month????

okay this turned into a whole rambling thought fic ??? a whole 3k of it?? this is hella unedited cos i'm running out the door so i'll be back to check for mistakes but enjoy some sub!steve & some sorta mean!reader, definitely a hint of a humiliation & exhibitionism kink so beware if that isn't your thing! enjoy u horny bastards MDNI this entire blog is 18+

the whole thing comes about because of a playful bicker.

it’s starts with talking about how long you’ve gone without sex— with steve insisting his dry spell before you two started fooling around was way longer and more difficult than yours.

and you had laughed and teased, cooing about how he could absolutely not make it through an entire week without cumming like you did for a whole month— while he insists the opposite is true.

and steve is nothing if not a competitive bastard who loves to try prove people wrong. so you challenge him to last the whole month — no cumming, no nothing.

but you don’t say no touching. and steve, poor, oblivious to the consequences he’s going to feel very soon, figures there’s no harm in giving in to his morning wood, rutting against his sheets with these quiet grunts until he gets bored and rolls out of bed. it’s something he’s done before and his hard-on goes down in the shower like usual & he goes to work far too smug, feeling so confident and ready to brag when he sees you.

you come into family video middle of the day and steve delights, ready to demolish the challenge you’ve set, bragging about his easy morning and his killer restraint.

your eyebrows raise and you look pleasantly surprised — not miffed, like steve hoped you would — and you offer to raise the stakes. leaning over one of the shelves as he works idly, you change the rules a bit… and set a prize if he’s to complete your challenge.

“if you go the whole month, no cumming, i’ll let you fuck me,” you hum, a wicked smile on your mouth at the way steve straightens up. you’ve been fooling around, tucking your hands into each others pants like horny teenagers but you haven’t actually slept together yet. “anywhere you want, any way you want,”

and steve is smarter than he looks, even as you can see this lust glazing over his eyes— options, so many options pour into his mind.

you in his car, in his lap, riding him and making those nice pitiful noises you do. you in his bed, beneath him, head thrown back in his sheets as you cry out. you, against the wall behind the family video, hidden away but only just, moaning into his hand as you try to keep quiet while you fall apart on his cock.

his cock begins to thicken in his pants just at the thought & steve shifts his weight.

“what’s the catch?” he asks.

“to make your challenge more difficult, you have to touch yourself every day of the month.”

“touch myself?”

“mhm,” you nod, eyes darting down to his bulge. your wicked grin grows at the sight of it growing in his jeans. “properly. not just a little touch, a proper jerk off. how long’s it take you to get hot and bothered? let’s say 5 minutes of stroking, each and every day.”

you’ve got this look in your face like you don’t think he can do it — so of course, steve takes the bait.

“easy.” he snips back, eyes narrowing. “hope you’ll spend the month getting prepared to take it. after a whole month of nothing? can’t promise i’ll be too gentle.”

your smile turns almost feline.

and so it begins. the first few days sail by, steve easily using his mornings in bed to stroke his cock idly, feeling his desire swell and then letting it swirl down the drain in a shower that gets colder every day. after the fifth day, steve has to admit it’s not nice — he can feel his mounting urge to cum building up but it’s not terrible. it’s certainly ignorable. he’s got this in the bag.

another five days pass— but now, he’s waking up aching hard. it takes longer now in the shower to get his hard-on to flag and worse when steve realises he has to still jerk off to win your challenge. his hand feels so much softer than usual and his keyed up lust springs to the surface to moment he starts to stroke himself— steve groans lowly, pressing his head against the tiles and tries go think of unpleasant things.

he fucks up on day 13.

his alarm goes off late and his dream had been lewd and vulgar, an endless loop of sinking his fat cock into you and envisioning how wet and warm you’d be around him. his cock is throbbing when he drags himself out of sleep and he realises he’s been humping against the mattress in his sleep.

the cold shower helps, barely. shivering beneath the icy spray, steve stares at his thickened cock and groans— knowing if he wraps his hand around it now and fucks his fist, he’ll cum in a minute.

so he leaves it and goes to work, wound up enough to snap at robin and then apologise 20 minutes later. you come into his work again, having been absent for the last couple of days, and it’s like you can smell it on him.

“hard morning?” you smirk at him.

“fuck off,” he growls, shoving a vcr back onto one of the shelves. then he looks back at you. “i’m still winning your stupid challenge by the way.”

“uh huh,” you say, not believing him at all. “how’s it’s been going? fucking your cock but never getting finish?”

even your words have an effect on him. steve feels his body flush, his dick strain in his pants, his gut churning with heat. he stiffens up and scrambles to think of a reply — but you’re already laughing.

“oh man, we’re not even halfway through the month and i think you could blow in your pants right here.” you muse teasingly. steve grips the shelf tighter and shakes over the fluster you have on him.

“i have more self restraint than that,” he snips back. the flush passes and he resumes his task, flashing you a quick glare.

you nod and hum again, like you don’t believe a thing he’s a saying, and then he’s watching you head out the door again.

the moment steve realises he’s fucked up is when he’s getting into bed. his cock is, thankfully, not hard — even if there is this persistent tug from his balls that never seems to leave. but he hasn’t stroked himself at all today.

painstakingly, he begins to — soft, gentle strokes over his cock, hoping, praying he can get five minutes in without working himself up too bad. it’s futile because it only takes about twenty seconds behind his cock is twitching in his hand, growing heavier, the head of it beginning to dribble pre-cum and steve moans in anguish into his pillow.

he stares at his alarm clock and strokes slowly, so slowly, having to stop every couple of seconds until finally five minutes passes. steve sighs and releases his cock which twitches in response, the head giving a sad spurt of pre-cum. he’s so keyed up he can’t possibly sleep. his cock is so hard it’s throbbing.

as he pulls his boxers up and buries himself under the duvet, but every touch is too stimulating, his skin on fire with how the urge to cum itches beneath it. he ends up having a very cold shoulder at 3am and his cock never fully softens.

it’s brutal from there on out. from day 14 onwards, his cock remains in this permanent state of aching, always half thickened and ready to go the moment it gets some stimulation. which turns out, is far easier to get now— jeans on the tighter side, the right seat, even the rumble of his car beneath him are enough to have steve swearing and pushing at his crotch, willing it to go down.

that’s how you find him on day 20, five minutes late for his shift because he’s staring down at his tented jeans and trying to think of anything to make it go away. your tap on his window makes him startle, seizing in his seat before he realises it’s probably the only person who’s expecting to see him with a boner in public.

“hard morning?” you joke again, this time pointing at his obvious bulge.

steve glares at you. “you already made that joke.”

“and you didn’t appreciate it the first time!” you say back cheerily. you round the front of his car and open the door, plopping yourself in the passenger seat like you own it.

“what are you doing?” steve asks, going to cross his arms but feeling terribly exposed. he settles for covering his groin, muscles twitching at the slight stimulation the weight of his hands does. his hips twitch forward.

“i’ve got a proposition for you,” you say.

steve shakes his head instantly. “nope, no way.”

you laugh at his quick insistence. “wait listen! i think you will want to consider it, okay?”

you pause and when steve doesn’t say anything more, just eyes you warily, you continue.

“i will knock off five whole days off your challenge,” you hold up your hand, fingers splayed out to indicate the number. your mischievous eyes make steve worry. even if five days off makes his challenge that much easier.

“if you do your five minutes today right now.”

steve blinks. his chest flushes hot at your proposal as it sinks in— here, in the parking lot in front of his work, you want him to jerk off for five whole minutes?

“what? right here?” the question bursts out of him.

it’s not busy out in the least. even in the store, steve hasn’t even seen keith walking about or any customers milling around. he knows keith won’t come outside to fetch him and he’s the only car in the parking lot, besides one another that parked down the other end.

“five minutes for five days off,” you say, twiddling your fingers with a wicked smile.

steve considers it, even though he can already feel his cock growing harder beneath his hands. he groans and throws his head back against the headrest. was he really about to do this?

he looks at the time and then starts to undo the button of his jeans. fuck, guess he was.

he steals a glance at you as he pulls down his zipper and tugs his jeans down a couple inches to expose his boxers. the mischief from your smile has faded, a hunger taking its place. steve averts his eyes, far too aware of how his cock twitches in his boxer at your attention.

he slips a hand into his boxers and curls it around his hard cock. a keening noise pulls from his throat and steve blushes scarlet— all his little noises as he’s spiraled into this lustful denial haven’t had an audience until right now.

he shifts his hand up, a slow stroke, but you’re quickly reaching out to grab his wrist, halting to movement. steve opens his eyes, not sure when they had closed, and makes a noise of confusion.

you grin deviously. “wait,” you point to the clock on the dash. “you can go when the minute changes, big boy.”

steve’s hips jump forward at your words, both the name and your denial. he groans before he can help it, his eyes trained intently on the dash. in his hand, his cock leaks pitifully, a wet spot beginning to stain through his boxers.

humiliatingly, you notice it too. “aw, you’re making a mess and you haven’t even started.”

“stop,” steve murmurs, aiming for stern but failing pathetically. the word comes out as a whine. his cheeks glow fiery hot.

you laugh and then tap his wrist— the minute having flicked over just a second ago.

steve starts his stroking, slow and easy, his eyes slipping closed. five minutes, he can do five minutes of jerking off. even if he was suddenly keenly aware of your watchful gaze, of the window beside him, of the pure exposure of the situation.

“that’s not jerking,” you huff disapprovingly. steve’s eyes crinkle open, his mouth already hung open as he pants softly. his hand does another pass over his cock and he smothers a moan into the palm of his hand.

“go faster or it won’t count.” you say wickedly and steve whimpers, his hand obeying without thought. with the way he’s leaking all over himself, it only takes a couple long strokes before he’s making lewd, wet noises as he fucks into his hand.

it shouldn’t be as hot as it is — rubbing his own cock while you watch, eyes darting between his moving hand and his flushed face. steve can hear himself making little noises with every exhale, tiny little whines as he burns up. the coil in his tummy tightens unexpectedly.

“f-fuck-!” he stops his hand completely, gripping the steering wheel with the other as he feels his orgasm swell. it grows closer, so near to tipping over that steve can’t control his hips as they keep moving, rutting into the air frantically, into nothing, as they try to get him over the edge.

it takes another thirty seconds for his breath to catch and steve to settle down enough to not cum immediately. he quivers in his seat. his eyes flutter open to look at you.

“that was really cute,” you muse, eyes almost feline, dragging up and down his body, slow as trickling honey. steve feels his cock twitch at your words, flushing hotly when your eyes dart to his boxers and definitely notice.

“not five minutes though,” you say with teasing tilt in your voice. you point to the clock on the dash. “i think that was… 1 whole minute?”

despite how he tries to stop it, steve can’t help the pathetic noise he makes in response. he wants to be able to finish this stupid fucking challenge you’ve set, wants to prove himself, wants to be good.

he starts moving his hand again before he can consider how bad of an idea it is. he should just say no and do the next ten days. but it’s wet and warm in his hand, the tip of his cock so drippy that he can pretend his hand is yours. you seem pleasantly surprised to see him going again so soon, your lids low as you watch him closely.

“are you normally this loud?”

steve knows you mean the slick noises coming from the way he’s fucking into his hand. he tries to huff but it comes out as a quiet moan and his face flushes hotter again.

he shakes his head instead, his hair scraping against the headrest. god, his neck is burning up. he’s pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life — but fuck, he can’t stop now.

“how- how ma- many minutes?” the words strain to get out, wrapped in his arousal. his nipples peak hard in his shirt, the friction only adding to his pleasure.

at some point, his hand stopped moving all together and his hips started doing all the work. steve presses against the drivers seat, hips lifting off and bucking into his hand and— shit, it’s too much, the sticky boxers are gonna make him cum if he rubs against them one more time.

in haste, he shoves them down his thighs, exposing his cock to you and anyone who deigns to take a peek in his window. something churns in his gut and steve screws his eyes up, willing himself not to cum yet. so close, he’s so close.

“just one more,” you say, suddenly sounding more breathy than before. steve’s eyes snap open, darting over to look at your face — but you’re fixated on his crotch, watching with a hungry expression.

your eyes lift to his face. another devious smile. steve whines. so close, he’s so fucking close, so close he can taste it. he can win, he can do it.

“steve,” you say softly, reaching out to nudge his chin in your direction. he wasn’t aware of when his eyes slipped shut again but your staring him in the face all lovingly, all wickedly and steve wills his orgasm down. another minute, another fucking minute, he can wait, he’s so close he’s— “cum,” you command.

steve does. white hot flashes through his body as he tips over the edge, ecstasy washing over every sense, stronger than he's ever felt before. his cock kicks up in his hand and a whorish moan drags out of his throat as he paints the steering wheel with ropes of cum.

for a minute, steve doesn't give a fuck if he's just lost— he just cares about how fucking good it feels to fuck his fist, to feel every pass over his slit all the way through his body. he whines and whimpers as the feeling tapers off, his hips finally settling down into the seat.

the mortification of what he's done begins to set it, like the drizzles of cum drying on his steering wheel. he can't stop panting, can't think of single word to say, his lips opening and closing as he tries to recover from the best orgasm of his life.

he hears the car door open and it shoots him into gear, stuffing himself back into his sticky boxers, a shiver going down his spine at how unpleasant it feels. oh fuck, and he's got a whole shift ahead of him.

you're still hovering, one hand on the open car door, leaned down and watching him frantically try to recover— all with that damned wicked smile on your face.

you rap your knuckles on the roof of the car. "damn. better luck next month, right harrington?"

you don't sound sorry at all. steve watches you close the door and leave, weaving between the stores and out of sight as his cock softens and his boxers grow colder. he screws his eyes up and smacks his head back against the headrest.

he's so fucking screwed.