#old money!steve harrington | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ssweetleaf · 11 months

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old money.

pairing— mean old money!steve harrington x fem waitress!reader

w/c— 3.2k

♡ summary— whilst serving table number three for the evening, a certain someone catches your eye, though he soon turns out to be an asshole. you want more.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, mean dom!steve, he’s an asshole, bathroom sex, so kinda public i guess??, pussy eating from behind, degradation, calls reader stupid once, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v (use protection!!!), breeding kink, cream pie, no aftercare, little bit of spanking, bad ending, i repeat, BAD ENDING!!!

a/n— please let me know what you think! i kind of hate this and there’s like not much plot but enjoy!

˖ ࣪⭑

Life was repetitive.

You’d wake up, leave your sorry excuse of an apartment just to go to work— some fancy-shmancy restaurant that served over-priced food and too-expensive wine, home for the big-wigs and the rich. And then you’d go home, back to your roommate, back to your creaky bed and your ceiling that had a suspicious amount of mould growing— back to your less-than-perfect lifestyle, dreaming of being one of those little flings that hung off the million-dollar men that stepped foot into your workplace, money signs everywhere and diamonds around your neck.

Shit— a girl can dream, right?”

And that was how it went, over and over and over again, letting slimy men pet at your ass and maybe show them a little too much cleavage, flutter your lashes at them all coyly just to earn a rather hefty tip at the end.

You were starting to get pretty sick of it…

“Good evening, gentlemen, is there anything I can get you started with?”

It was late and you were serving table three— a big gaggle of bozos you assumed to have more money than you’d ever have in your life, keeping your eyes wide and speech sickly sweet, leaving a little sway in your hips, keeping your eyes on the prize at the end. God, you hoped they tipped well.

There was six of them, clad in fine suits and sparkling tie clips, already fishing around in their pockets for a light, cigarettes hanging limply out the side of their mouths. Though one stood out in particular, chestnut hair that almost touched his shoulders, honeyed eyes all hooded and swarming, angry looking, especially with the way his eyes furrowed—

“Hey, you listenin’ t’me?” You shook out of your stupor, your cheek ticking when he clicked his fingers in front of your face, earning a few chuckles from his little rat-pack when he leaned back to say, “Jesus, can’t get the service these days, am I right?”

“Apologies, Sir,” you replied, “what can I get for you?”

You would’ve almost said he was handsome until he opened his mouth, his stupid flashy cuff links glinting from the lamp that perched in the middle of the tablecloth, monogrammed SH, his initials, you supposed. He called for the finest scotch you had— the most expensive, ordering a round of glasses for the table and the whole bottle to be served, nothing less, finishing off his sentence with a quick, ‘stat’. He definitely wasn’t asking, though you couldn’t let that deter you, he definitely had the money, you knew that by the size of his Rolex.

So you made priority for his table, serving their spirit on a silver tray and handing each of them a crystal tumbler, finely cut with intricate details and pretty patterns— not that they gave it any notice however, quick when ushering you to pour like they hadn’t the time to do it themselves.

It was all going smoothly, moving around table three and trying to gather the least attention possible, pouring the same two fingers of whiskey, until you got to him. Shy under his gaze you leaned forward, feeling the heat of his gaze on your tits and he was quick to sit up suddenly, causing your hand to slip. A little spillage, nothing drastic, and with the way his lip quirked you knew he had done it on purpose.

“Really are testin’ my patience tonight, sweet cheeks—” he cocked a brow, one arm spread along the back of his chair, “you tryin’ to get yourself fired?”

Oh, fuck off.

“No, Sir,” you spoke quickly, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard just to stop the tears slipping from the embarrassment. “I’ll clean it up right away— excuse me.”

Back and forth, back and forth. To and from their table, spilt scotch all cleaned, soaked up by the crisp white of the serving cloth, the swift dabdabdab had your tits jiggling from underneath your uniform, and you tried not to clench your thighs together when he leaned back to get a good look at your ass.

You couldn’t be serious, getting hot under the collar for some rich asshole, finding yourself all too sugary-sweet once again, gazing at him from beneath your lashes when he ordered his main, sharp jabs flitting from the tip of his tongue when you stalled or stuttered— it only had you down worse for him.

You really were pathetic.

Eventually, the night had started to round off to a close, tables emptying, though the bar still busy with drunk men hunched over in their stools, it was most probable they were complaining about their wives, trying and failing to flirt with the barmaids.

You hurried back to the table you were waiting on, plates ridden from the cloth and piled high next to the sink in the back, ready for the poor dishwasher to see too, placing down the wooden box they had requested, flicking up the golden hinges with your thumbs to reveal their pompous cigars, cutting the caps off and handing them out one by one.

“Light it for me, would ya, honey?” Him again, staring up at you all dark and handsome, it had you inwardly swooning and you made sure to give yourself a slap once you got home.

“Yes, Sir.” You opened the lighter, silver and sleek, watching the flame come to life and flicker while you cupped a palm to shield any draughts. His lips looked so pink, pursed around the thick stick, his gaze heavy and set on you, sucking his cheeks in when he took his first drag, inhaling into his lungs and puffing it out right into your face.

Prick.

You excused yourself, almost finished for the night, eager to have a smoke and then get to bed— probably touch yourself over the thought of him- SH, whatever his name was. You wondered what it could be, the thought of asking him crossed your mind and you quickly shook it away, totally pathetic and really, really embarrassing.

You would never ever stoop so low and try to get with him— no matter if his bank account included seven digits, or his face was the prettiest you’d ever seen, he wouldn’t be able to afford you…right?

˖ ࣪⭑

“Oh, fuck— Steve!”

You weren’t sure what it was that caused you to comply with his request, a short, snappy, meet-me-in-the-bathroom-in-five kind of thing, smirk prominent on his lips, a toothpick limply hanging from his mouth, much akin to the cigarette the first time you had pressed eyes on him.

But whatever it was, it had you pressed against the counter in the woman’s bathroom, skirt hiked up and panties around your ankles, his face snug against your pussy from behind while he devoured your cunt as if he hadn’t had a full three course meal beforehand.

You had learned through teeth-filled kisses that his name was Steve— Steve Harrington. And you almost rolled your eyes at what an asshole-y name it was.

The whole ordeal was messy, his spit slick with your arousal, slipping down his chin and the length of his throat, saturating his once perfect shirt and tie— you were no better, makeup already ruined, lining your cheeks in long, black streaks, clumping your lashes from the constant tears that ebbed over your waterline. You made contact with your glassy eyes through the mirror, staring at your dumbified state before they started to roll back at a certain mean suckle to your clit.

You reached behind you, pushing your fingers into his chestnut hair, going to give the roots a little tug before his palm came down on your ass in a sharp smack.

“Not the hair.” He was stern, words muffled from your pussy and you would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the constant attention to your puffy clit. “Stupid girl.”

Steve’s tongue prodded at your hole, slipping inside with ease at how slick you were, the sudden intrusion causing you to clench around his appendage and you moaned out at the way it flexed against your walls.

You were surprised he even took the time to use his mouth on you, considering you thought he’d be selfish while you fucked, but the thought occurred to you that he enjoyed it— Steve Harrington ate pussy for his pleasure— it made a lot of sense.

“Please—” you whined, arching your back and simultaneously pushing your ass in his face, driving his tongue deeper into your cunt and he audibly growled at that— clutching at both ass cheeks and keeping you tight in place, right where he wanted you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He spoke, it was almost hard to hear, especially over the way he slurped so crudely at your juices. “Wan’ me to pay more attention to that pretty little clit of yours, baby?”

You nodded, clutching tightly onto the edge of the sinks, knuckles aching from the constant tensing and you gazed at the door, no lock, just an emptying bar, and you hoped no woman wanted to use the restroom.

The mere thought of someone catching you in this position had your brain in a tizzy, swirling in a haze all hot and bothered, the prospect of losing your job not even encompassing your mind at all.

He stuck to his word, suckling the pearl of your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue against it and burying his face even further, shaking his head from side to side so filthily and urging a gasp out of you.

You knew he was smirking into you, you could feel it. Smug bastard.

And once you could feel the rope inside your belly tighten, tighter, tighter, so ready to snap— eager to cum and make a mess of his tongue, leave him to gulp down your cream and leave a little kiss to your clit as a thank you…he pulled away, biting at the fat of your ass and suckling his teeth marks into the flesh, your orgasm dissipating, the pleasure leaving your clit as achy as ever and the rest of your body completely unsatisfied.

You gulped down some much needed air, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuttering mouth, words stuck in your windpipe when you tried to speak, instead you hoped your expression conveyed what exactly you wished to tell him.

What the actual fuck, Steve?

“What? You thought I was gonna let you cum?” He cooed, mocking you with a pout and two condescending taps to your cheek once he got to his feet. “Y’seem a little desperate, honey, barely had my mouth on y’for two seconds.”

The smirk was back again, and yeah, maybe it had been the best head in your life, but it definitely wasn’t two seconds until you needed to cum. So yeah, fuck you, Steve.

There was a mindless pout on your lips, and you realised that must of been what he was mocking, your thighs rubbing together, still so slick and sensitive from your ruined orgasm and the way he spoke to you— all condescending and mean, it made you clench around nothing, made your cunt throb the more he spoke to you in that way.

“Please?” You were surprised the words managed to slip, staring back at him and craning your neck to see and it made him chuckle.

Steve clutched your chin between a thumb and forefinger.

“Aw, my poor girl—” he cooed, all sickly sweet and nothing like him, there was something behind it, a different meaning, though you weren’t sure what. “You wanna cum real bad, don’t ya?”

You nodded, sniffling back your un-shed tears and giving him your sweetest heart eyes, all wet and starry.

“I’ll let you cum, hon, don’t you worry.”

He gave another tap to your cheek, a little harder this time and you couldn’t ignore the little glint in his eye and the twitch of his cheek— then pressed a wet kiss to your mouth, an exaggerated ‘mwah’ coming from him at the action.

Finally, he started to work on his belt, fingers fiddling with the buckle to pull it free from the loops, pulling at the button to his slacks and unzipping them completely, letting them slip to his thighs.

And it was quite shocking, actually. Not only was he not wearing underwear, but his cock was huge— you hadn’t a clue how he even got that thing in his trousers in the first place, and you were even more baffled as to why you hadn’t had a good look at it before.

The tip was stupidly pretty, gleaming with pre-cum and you watched while he smeared it around with his thumb— his shaft all littered with thick veins, trailing down to heavy balls, so round and full of cum.

Shit, you thought, he totally had a reason for being such an asshole.

Steve pressed a big palm to your ass, spreading you open as much as he could with a single hand while his other held the base of his cock, pressing it against your opening and feeding it through with a chesty groan.

You could feel your walls stretching around him, trying to accommodate his impressive size all while he split you in half— he was mean about it too, pushing to the hilt and not giving you much time to adjust before pulling out, just to slam himself back inside.

So deep, so heavy— bordering on painful, but your pussy weeped for him and his pretty little massive cock.

“Fuck, look at you, bet you haven’t taken cock like this before, huh, baby?” He let a moan slip, and you were sure it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. “So fuckin’ pathetic, lettin’ me use you like a little whore.”

Your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your skull and you reached behind you, grabbing blindly at any part of him you could find, until he brought his own hand up to press it to the small of your back, holding it there and using it as leverage to fuck himself into you at a heavy pace.

He had the audacity to chuckle at the way you cried out, struggling under his grasp though pushing back against him with each thrust to get even deeper, desperate for him to fuck into your cervix and fill up your tummy with his sticky cum.

“Shit— Steve—”

“Can barely string a sentence together, sweet cheeks—” he grinned, “you must really like me, huh?”

You were babbling expletives and nonsensical verses, staring back at him through the mirror with watery, swarming eyes— clenching around him like a vice, almost too hard and he struggled and spluttered at the new found sensation.

“Fuck, that’s it—” he moaned, dipping his mouth to sponge sloppy, wet little kisses to the back of your neck. “You want that tip, baby, you gotta earn it. Gonna give you a big one, too, if you’re a good girl.”

There was a double meaning — you were sure, whining out at his filthy words and it was when you eventually stared back at your reflection that you agreed with him.

You were pathetic.

Tears streaming, lips all bitten and pouty, cheeks sheened with sweat and your hair stuck to your forehead— the weight of your tits about to fall out of your bra, the buttons on your blouse already popped off mere minutes before when he got his hands on you.

‘I’ll buy you a new one’, he’d said.

Money. Money. Money. Money. Money.

That was all he was, all he spoke about, all he cared about.

You were close, embarrassingly so, keening into him when the mushroomed tip of his cock jabbed into that special spot, the thick veins sliding against your gummy walls and splitting you in two.

“G-gonna—” you could barely get your words out, sobbing into the stuffy bathroom and leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool mirror.

“Gonna what, huh? Speak up, hon.” You could hear his smirk and the way the corner of his lip lifted, all clicky and slick, and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t so inebriated from his pretty cock.

“Cum.”

“You wanna cum?” He cooed, pulling out right to the tip to slam back inside you, heavy and hard, pushing you forward and bruising your hips. “How badly? Gotta let me know how much of a whore you are.”

“So badly, Steve— make me feel so good, better than anyone else—” you babbled dumbly, “wanna feel you cum in me, too.”

“You fuckin’ dirty girl.” His stomach muscles clenched, length throbbing at your want, “wantin’ a stranger to cum inside you— just isn’t good enough, sweetheart.”

He tried to click his tongue at you, wanting to mock you and tease, though the tut soon morphed into some kind of stuttered groan when you clenched and fluttered around him continuously.

“F-fuck, you really wan’ it, huh?” His thrusts were starting to grow sloppy, and his hold on your arm grew lax. “You really want my cum— fill you up and get you nice ‘n’ round, hm?”

You nodded fervently, helping him out and doing most of the movements yourself, his mouth agape and face flushed when you stared at him through the mirror while he watched the space where the two of you met.

“Have to wait until I cum, then you’ll have your turn.” He rushed out, grabbing a good hold of your hips, kneading at the fat before pressing his chest to your back— starting his pace back up and fucking into you like a mutt in heat, chasing his orgasm with a heaving chest and a pumping heart.

One, two, three long pumps, he stilled inside you, shooting his load deep inside and stuffing you full of that old money prodigy, and you took it greedily, milking his cock of every last drop, whining out at the warmth that flooded your cunt.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby— can’t waste a drop, gotta keep it all in.”

You expected him to continue after he had stilled and calmed down a little, get you off and make you cum— however as soon as his high had worn off and all the sparkles and stars in his irises had started to fade, he pulled out of you, long, stringy lines of cum connecting you to him and his cock was slick with your arousal, a thick ring of your cream slicking the base.

Steve reached for your panties that were still hooked around your ankles, pulling them up and letting them snap sharply around your waist, tugging them snug against your pussy so his cum saturated the already dampened cotton.

Speechless, you watched him tuck himself back inside his slacks, pulling up the zip and popping the button before reaching into his back pocket and tugging out his leather wallet, thick and bulging with notes and credit cards and he flicked through the hundreds, taking a wad out and pressing them flat on the counter next to you.

Your tip.

“You promised—” you squeaked out, referring to how he had promised you dearly that he’d let you cum once he was inside you. Fucking lying little son of a bitch—

With one final slap to your ass he headed for the door.

“See ya around, sweet cheeks.”

✰

tagging <3—

@lou-la-lou @paladinshenanigan-blog @bleachvibez @qardasngan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #old money!steve #old money!steve harrington #old money!steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

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ghostlyfleur · 4 months

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♡ life with old money!steve harrington

watching him play the piano*. dinner parties. hand holding. palm kisses. waking up to a bouquet of flowers. breakfast in bed. tennis lessons. absentee parents. night drives. sneaking out of fancy parties. breathless laughs. engagement ring. ‘i love you forever’. touching foreheads. hugs from behind. midnight skinny dipping. being steve’s safe place. his one and only. his spoiled baby. fingers through hair. cuddling. comforting words. soulmates.

*old money!steve plays the piano like tj hammond in political animals. he just does. no, i will not take criticism.

#fleur museum™#moodboards #steve harrington (harmo’s version)#old money!steve harrington #rich!steve harrington #wealthy!steve harrington #boyfriend!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington moodboards #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington aesthetic #steve harrington hc #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington au #old money au #joe keery aesthetic

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buckleysbitch · 4 months

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old money!steve harrington brainrot incoming!!

note - reblogs and comments keep this account going! if you like what you read, please don’t hesitate to share ♡

smut under the cut

steve never lets you touch a door. ever.

always treating you to facials and luxury cosmetics, even though he doesn’t think you need them at all

he always prefers you in your robe and slippers over any fancy dress

but that doesn’t mean he DISLIKES said fancy dresses

“let me unzip you my love”

always being treated to the prettiest new jewelry

and of course he never forgets what metal you prefer

insisting on holding your purse for you

unbuckling your heels for you

“my love”

fresh flowers every saturday morning

reading books to you while you bake in the kitchen

helping to curl the back of your hair

braiding your hair for you before bed omg omg omg

oh he is a GIVER

insists on making you cum at least twice before ever going near his cock

sorry but he is a pussy worshipper, i don’t make the rules

sweet, playful flicks on your clit

always gentle and loving, he loves your body with everything he has

creampies ONLY in this household

takes his time with you, never rough or aggressive

silk robes and timeless matching sets > lingerie

bye this is so generic but jazz music in the background behind his pants and groans? BYE

bubble baths as aftercare

can and will wash your hair and body for you

he worships the ground you walk on

cuddling by the fireplace before you fall asleep on his chest

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #old money #old money!steve #stranger things fanfics #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington au #steve harrington x you #old money!steve harrington

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ridestomars · 9 months

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LAST CHANCE ON THE STAIRWAY – S. HARRINGTON HEADCANONS

𖥻 summary: fake dating old money!steve. 𖥻 pairing: old money!steve harrington x fem!reader. 𖥻 warnings: no mentions of y/n, not proofread - we die like men here.

💭 liv's thoughts: it's been a long time since i've written something, so i decided to make my big comeback with a concept that is very dear to me <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

♡ㆍWhen Steve comes up with (as he called it) a "miraculous, failproof" plan, he wouldn't stop trying to persuade you to join in. It will get to the point of being annoying, because being the brat that he is, this boy can't take a no.

♡ㆍAnd that is why he is doing everything in his power to make you take up on his offer, which means that he is showering you with useless gifts just for the sake of you saying yes.

♡ㆍBooks, cassettes, clothes, vinyl records… heck, even a brand new Walkman. He is truly going all in – and the plan hasn't even begun.

♡ㆍThe thing is: Steve is one stubborn guy, and when he makes up his mind about something, he is going to get it. And he has decided that instead of getting a girlfriend the way normal people do, he has to have you as his fake girlfriend.

♡ㆍYou could argue that it's because you're one of his, erhm… less fortunate friends, but deep down, Steve knows that this is his only shot at getting you as his girl.

♡ㆍTo him, it's like you're this very unattainable girl, someone who's so different from everyone he's known his whole life. You do things for yourself, and you're so ahead of him in so many ways that Steve thinks that you'll never give him a real chance. So, he has to make do with this fake shot at getting to your heart.

♡ㆍAnd boy, does he grab that chance by the horns.

♡ㆍEven though you made it very clear that you were still very much friends, and you didn't want this to get too close to comfort, Steve is already thinking about your matching clothes for his parents' annual gala, and planning a romantic date on the golf course at the town's club. Only because his rich friends will be there to witness you playing together, and you "gotta make this relationship seem believable!" His words, not yours.

♡ㆍSo, of course, he's going to bring you to his favorite rich-boy activities.

♡ㆍThe first, which is his most dear, is shopping. And it's something, as you found out, that he does pretty much daily –– spending one hundred bucks like it's absolutely nothing. But, hey! Steve was never known for being responsible, was he?

♡ㆍHe takes you everywhere, slowly finding out your personal tastes and favorite stores, and you're pleasantly surprised with how much you enjoy shopping with him.

♡ㆍSteve is all for the silly antics: picking out a dozen clothes and making a ridiculous fashion show in the fitting room's small hallway, or wearing clothes that are the wrong size just to hear you giggle and tease him.

♡ㆍIt's nice to have him there for support since he always encourages you to try things you wouldn't have otherwise. Steve is not one to be afraid of making a bold fashion statement, and he wants you to feel secure enough to do the same if you want to.

♡ㆍSo, if you see something that shows a little more skin than you're used to, or maybe a bright color you have never tried before, he is going to be your number one supporter. It does help that he finds you absolutely beautiful no matter what you wear.

♡ㆍShopping with Stevie also means that you are coming home with a bunch of shopping bags, but don't worry! He will carry all of them for you, even if it covers his whole arm, because he doesn't want you to ruin your fresh manicure.

♡ㆍBut besides shopping, Steve always invites you to go to the club to play golf, or tennis with him… even though you have no idea how.

♡ㆍSteve is convinced he is a good teacher, though. And that is what opens the door for opportunities for him to hold you tightly against his body, his big hands holding your arms as he explains how you should grip the golf club, or the tennis racket.

♡ㆍHe keeps telling you that it's good to be close to you like this to show you off to his friends, but with time, the excuses fade as you both discover that touching is good, and that there's nothing better than to be in each other's arms.

♡ㆍThose lingering touches, small smiles, and longing stares are almost like an unconscious thing that happens between the both of you, and you find yourself enraptured by them, completely forgetting about the boundaries you had set to avoid getting too caught up in this fake relationship.

♡ㆍBut it's difficult when Steve is the best fake boyfriend you could ever ask for. If you thought that he was just a good friend, man, you're in for the most delightful ride of your life… because if you feel like you're getting the lines between your real emotions and your fake relationships blurry, Steve had already jumped headfirst in it.

♡ㆍHis attentiveness just triplicates, and it's like he just wants to please you all the time. But it all happens so naturally that you start to wonder if dating him was supposed to happen sooner or later in your life; it just feels like the next step, really.

♡ㆍAnd what surprises you the most is that you could complain about his intensity or his blatant crush on you, but you don't want to.

♡ㆍIt's just needless to say that you're in big, big trouble.

♡ㆍBut let's talk about the good stuff, shall we?

♡ㆍHaving so many gorgeous outfits, it's only natural that he will help you pick out great combinations for your nights out, especially when you have to attend his parents' events together. Trust me, he's gonna make sure you go either with matching colors, matching fabrics, or matching designers.

♡ㆍYou are the only reason why those types of gatherings get bearable for him, honestly.

♡ㆍLike I said in a previous post, the Harrington family is renowned and known all over America, so that means that hearts will be crushed once Steve appears on the cover of a gossip magazine with his hand over your waist, holding you close as you two pose for the camera.

♡ㆍWhich takes us to why he made this whole plan up in the first place: he just wants to escape the madness of having people speculate about his dating life all the time and the crazy gold-digging mothers that practically throw their own daughters in his direction. Having a serious relationship keeps the craziness of being the country's most eligible bachelor, and it shuts down his parents, too.

♡ㆍHe loves to take you out dancing at those parties, even though they're very conservative when it comes to their music; it's either soft jazz music, or some old classics that no one your age has heard of before. But you make your own choreography, pretty much mocking how the other very square couples are dancing.

♡ㆍIt's literally the Laurie and Jo scene from Little Women (iykyk).

♡ㆍAnd please, he absolutely loves to get shitfaced at those parties! There are two things he really enjoys about those gatherings: the food and the neverending champagne. And he certainly savors every glass and those fancy finger foods – once, he almost took a whole tray of those.

♡ㆍTipsy-Steve is just a ray of pure sunshine, and a ball of energy. He loves to dance like nobody's watching and to talk to everyone, including those he claims to dislike. It's funny because his cheeks get so red, and even his way of talking changes a little: his voice gets squeaky, and he merges his words together because there's just so much going on through his head.

♡ㆍBut Drunk-Steve is a whole different person. He can barely keep his eyes open, and he has to spend the rest of the party sitting down somewhere because he gets too lazy… and now his words start to slow down, and he begins to feel a little more sentimental. So, as soon as the bubbly champagne takes its toll on his brain, he still can't stop talking, but most of his words are sweet compliments for you.

♡ㆍIt's like he feels a growing and unstoppable need to be a total sweetheart to you, praising you for just reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. And his clinginess just goes through the roof, wanting to be near you, even though you had just spent the last three hours together.

♡ㆍIt's in one of his drunken spurs where you get to know his actual feelings toward you, because he simply can't keep his mouth shut. He goes on extensive rants about just how great he thinks you are, and that you just might be too good for him… and Steve has such a heartbreaking puppy face, pouting as he tells you all about what goes on in his heart, that it's hard to feel anything but a sense of growing affection for him.

♡ㆍIt's funny, because one night he's pouring his heart out to you, and the next morning, he doesn't remember anything that he had said. And you don't say anything either. Maybe at the next party… or until your deal is over. There's always time, right?

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve and eddie.

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#back at my loving steve hours #this is not my best but hey i can write more about it later #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #old money!steve #old money!steve x reader #old money!steve harrington #headcanons #liv talks about stevie

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astermath · 9 months

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need my filthy rich old money boyfriend steve harrington to take care of like. literally everything.

need him to buy me things, send them over to me with the cutest love notes and get all happy and possessive when he sees me wearing them at our next date.

need him to pick up on something I mentioned in passing, like my favourite flowers, only to buy a whole bouquet of them every single time he gets the chance.

need him to take me to his fancy dinners and forced smile encounters with other men like him, show me off like a pretty doll while talking about the company, all while he can’t stop thinking about how he’s going to ruin that dress for me later.

#stevemath #aster writes stranger things #just need him tbh #and need to read more fics like this hello #he’s so #hzjdhhjgfd #want to chew on him #steve harrington blurb #old money!steve #old money!steve harrington #old money steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic

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stvharrngton · 1 year

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nono i feel you😭

steve is having the time of his life fr. the little shit is like holding a conversation with 3 different people all while he's knuckles deep inside you and you're trying your hardest not to give anything away😭.

he fuck u later at home <3

yea ugh that fucker and your fingers are digging into his thigh so hard, your hand shaky as you try and bring your champagne glass to your lips, skin hot and tingling cause at this point you just wanna cum so bad and the thought of steve making you feel so good and making you cum in front of all these people is just making it 1000x more hotter and dirtier for you but of course. like the little shit he is. he’s pulling his wet fingers from you before you can even think about making a mess and you have to cover your whine with a cough hehe

and then yeah he takes you home and has you ride him on the plush couch for as long as you can muster before your legs start to ache and then he’s wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you flush to his chest and fucking his fat cock up into you so hard and fast until you’re creaming all over him 😵‍💫

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #old money!steve harrington #ivy<3 #asks #k.hc

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l4venderf4iry · 2 years

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starlight

steve harrington x fem!reader

a/n : kinda based on a blurb i found but mainly based on starlight (taylor's version) by taylor swift.

one evening after a wonderful date with steve he decided to have a little more fun with you.

apparently "fun" involves him taking you to a yacht party? a yacht party dressed to the nines, apparently.

"we'll pretend to be a duchess and a prince, my love."

"don't you think they'll see through that?"

"not if your convincing enough." he smirked back at you

a few minutes later you had arrived to the yacht. you two waited in a short line with a "bouncer" with a clipboard signing people in.

"who are you two?"

"this is the duchess of windsor and i am the prince of windsor." it was hard to keep straight face at this point.

"i don't see you on the-"

"we're surprising the host, per se, we're probably not on the list." how could he be so calm in this kind of situation?

"alright head in."

"thank you."

as soon as you went in your ears were filed with some new "marvelous tune" you can't remember anymore, and your vision filled of rich people dancing with colored LED lights blinking around the entirety of the yacht.

it was busy, way too busy for the likes of you two.

"maybe we should just get out of here. what do you say?"

"steveeeee. this was your idea. why should we leave already?"

"maybe not leave completely, but just get out of the loud areas."

"and go where, genius?

"out to the shore?"

"fine" you laughed back at him

as you went onto the on the shore, steve grabbed some rocks and stood with you. he started unsuccessfully skipping rocks on the ocean, and you started saying,

"is that meant to impress me?" smiling sweetly at him

"you look beautiful in the starlight."

"what?" you laughed

"don't you see the starlight?"

"starlight?" he pointed up towards the sky to show you the bright light the stars gave. while you looked up at the gorgeous night sky he stared at you.

steve always knew he wanted a big family. he knew when his parents started leaving more often and for longer periods of him and his house started to feel empty. and soon he realized he wanted that big family with you.

"how many kids do you want, my love? with me of course."

"i haven't thought about how many children i want yet. but i know i want them with you." you took a deep breath before asking, "how many do you want?"

"six."

"six?!" you whispered-yelled back to him

"yeah."

"why?"

"i don't want my kids to be alone. i don't want to be alone anymore." he stepped closer to you and held your face in his hands, looking lovingly into your eyes.

"you're not alone with me."

"i know." he smiled at you then kissed your forehead.

"i love you, steve."

"i love you too, my love."

#steve <3333 #taylor swift #steve harrington #l4venderf4iry #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #old money!steve harrington #Spotify

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pcrjacksn · 2 years

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i don't think you understand how much in LOVE i am with old money!steve

#old money!steve harrington #steveharrington #steve harrington x reader #old money aesthetic #i just read a couple hc's and im completely in love with that man

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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Someone comments on one of Eddie’s videos that you can ‘clearly’ tell that Steve is only with Eddie for the money and Eddie responds to it with a bunch of old pictures of them from when they lived with Wayne. Eddie’s just like, “Steve was a rich kid with a trust fund when we met. He got disowned and kicked out for dating me, and lived with me and my uncle in a trailer while putting himself through school way before the band was making anybody money. What the fuck are you talking about?”

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

#old pictures include:#a pic from the stage of a CC gig where only 3 people showed up. including Steve in his dorky polo #a pic from the summer him Steve and Wayne tried to fix a car in their backyard #a pic of Wayne and Steve counting out their money to see if they had enough to buy a Christmas tree #a pic Jonathan took of Steve hugging Eddie when he came home from your and a pic of Eddie hugging Steve when he graduated from college #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson tiktok saga

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ghostlyfleur · 4 months

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♡ old money!sugar daddy!modern!stevie x oc

#fleur museum™#moodboards ♡#old money!steve harrington #sugar daddy!steve harrington #wealthy!steve harrington #boyfriend!steve harrington #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington moodboards #steve harrington aesthetic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x oc #sugar daddy au #modern au #stranger things #stranger things aesthetic #stranger things moodboard #joe keery

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buckleysbitch · 4 months

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reqs are OPEN!

note - reblogs and comments keep this account going! if you like what you read, please don’t hesitate to share ♡

old money!steve reading books to you by the fireplace while you’re draped over his lap in a silk robe with a cup of hot tea. jazz music fills the air from the record player as his husky, whiskey filled voice recites to you. snow waltzes into a white pillowy quilt through the frosted windows. his glasses perch from his nose, and one of his calloused hands come up to scruff through his picture perfect hair. all is peaceful in your world.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things fanfics #steve harrington brainrot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington au #steve harrington fanfiction #old money!steve harrington #old money!steve #Spotify

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ridestomars · 9 months

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when it comes to old money steve...what are your thoughts on fame. like obviously he is REALLY famous right? the Harrington name is essentially american royalty so wherever he goes there are so many camera. but i feel like he would be so protective over his girl when cameras come into play...but he would adore showing her off!! dressing her up in beautiful outfits and posing to show her off cause that is his GORGEOUS GIRL! anyway just experiencing brainrot

HOW i did not see this ask omg

you literally just summed up the whole old money!steve concept for me, anon, and i love you for it! because the harrington family is truly up there with the vanderbilts and the rockefellers, and we can't argue on that. in my fantasy, steve is absolutely a leo rising (bare with me), and so he loooves to show off, no matter where he goes!

the only good thing about those big events to him is having his pictures taken like he's some sort of real-life celebrity, and not just a socialite. and let's be honest: steve loves to look at them. with that being said, it's only natural that he would love to share that spotlight with you. not only because you're his girlfriend, but because he thinks you are the most beautiful person in the whole wide world, and you deserve to be seen. cue the endless shopping sprees where steve takes you to the most expensive stores, even if it means he has to drive to another city to buy you the nicest dresses, with the most luxurious fabrics. he would be so excited! especially if you're into fashion just as much as he is!!

but then, if you're shy, he'd ask you to, at least, let him take a picture of you before leaving home, just to keep it to himself <3

#I LOVE OLD MONEY!STEVE #my brain waves were peaking the day i thought of it #i'm so gonna make more headcanons for this #i haven't written in ages if this sucks don't come at me #i just want to share <33 #liv answers anon #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #old money!steve #old money!steve harrington #old money!steve x reader #liv talks about stevie

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ecoamerica · 24 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

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feel the bigger thing

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, domestic husbands are domestic ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, rockstar husbands, love is lying on top of each other on the sofa discussing buying a new house with a pool, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twelve: Love is having hope for the future together (@acasualcrossfade)

you know how the rockstar husbands talked about lights for their pool in the original fic, je ne regrette rien? well GUESS WHAT FEATURES HERE

“These numbers,” Eddie’s reading over the printouts from their manager, sales projections and preliminary tour dates and all the rest: “baby, we can get the new house, hell, we can keep this one and have a second house if we want it,” Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head where he’s got him bundled up on his chest, tucked under his chin where they’re currently both sprawled on the couch; Eddie says he likes to think like that—likes to know Steve’s there by design, no question, the weight of him evident every time he breathes, he says; held close to my heart, baby, in fact, is what he also says.

Hopeless goddamn romantic, his husband. But he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We don’t need a second house,” Steve points out, smooshed against Eddie’s sternum.

“We can get the pool,” Eddie added with the audible equivalent of his brow-wiggle and okay, fine, that’s a good point, because Steve may not have really used the one at his parents’ after, well, everything, but he…does kinda miss having one. Now that the memories are distant enough in both time and miles that he doesn’t see standing water deeper than four feet and start fucking hyperventilating anymore.

So…yeah. Compelling argument regarding a pool.

“This record,” Eddie blows out a long breath, slow and even as Steve rides it where he’s braced atop his chest, lifted with his lungs: “this record’s gonna change everything.”

Steve turns his opposite cheek against Eddie’s heartbeat, huffs a little as he gets comfortable again before he asks:

“You think so?”

Eddie doesn’t move, but the fact that he stills so completely is kinda like a motion in itself.

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t sound angry or anything, or even upset. Not disappointed. Maybe just…surprised.

And Steve gets that. The numbers attached to this album are…if they’re right?

This is going to be huge.

But.

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, which is kinda useless given his position, so he sorts of ends up nosing at Eddie’s shirt instead as a byproduct of the hushing of his shoulders: he’s not mad at that, as the outcome:

“I guess, not really,” Steve finally settles on because it’s really not any more complicated than that.

Then Eddie’s got his fingertips at Steve’s nape and he’s spreading them through Steve’s hair and oh.

Oh, that’s so fucking nice.

Which is probably why he pairs the sensation with the question he follows with:

“It’s not good?”

And Steve almost doesn’t hear it, and he wouldn’t even fucking feel bad for not hearing it or not processing it when Eddie’s hands are in his hairlike that because fucking hell, Eddie knows what that goddamn does to him; but Steve does hear it. And again: it’s not angry, or upset. It’s maybe a little surprised. It’s not even quite…hurt, or disappointed, but it’s far closer to either or both than Steve’s comfortable with, than Steve ever wants to hear in that voice, so:

“God no,” he answers with real feeling, shaking his head to back it up and also to—mournfully—dislodge Eddie’s distracting fucking hands; “it’s spectacular,” Steve tells him, plain and honest because it’s the fucking truth: “definitely your best yet.” Also true.

Eddie goes still again, and Steve tips his head up and back at the most uncomfortable possible angle to catch Eddie expression, to read its clues: he’s watching Steve so intently, like he’s something unfathomable and dear enough to spend eternity decoding—but that’s strange in itself. They kind of know each other inside-and-out by now.

So Steve rolls back the words exchanged, looks for the catch, the dropped stitch, the record-scratch.

Gonna change everything—

Ah. Steve’s breath hitches a little, but: he thinks he’s found it. Right.

He makes himself breath in deep but slow, gentle and calm as he can, and Eddie’ll pick up the tension he can’t wholly wash out just yet, and Eddie’ll feel the uptick of his pulse where his one hand holds Steve still around the ribs. But it’s fine. Because they’re fine.

Okay.

“I just,” Steve exhales long; “you said everything,” and Steve tries to make his tone hold the word itself to account, to fill it up with all of the things that came to Steve’s mind and made him denounce the possibility on sight—change everything? But there’s so very little about Steve’s life, about this life together, about their life that they’ve clawed and fought for and now get to relish and bask in: Steve doesn’t want that changed.

And to think a fucking album release could change what they have, that was just, insanity.

…right?

“You said that, and I—“ and that’s as far as Steve gets before Eddie’s dragging him up, firm but so tender, and so full of love in just the touch that any misgivings—and they weren’t even that, that were just…just little off feelings that Steve knew weren’t of real consequence, because he knowswhat they are and what they have and his first instinct was right damnit, and he knew that like he knows the sky is blue and Eddie curls frizz no matter what you fucking do to them: they won’t change in the ways that matter, because they’re…unshakable.

So Steve knew that already, and he knows it now in just Eddie’s touch drawing up upward and closer, but if somehow he’d managed to miss both of those points?

The way he kisses Steve is…fuck, it’s like sucking his soul to consume.

“Oh, oh baby,” Eddie speaks so that they’re lips aren’t ever anything but locked tight, but touching close and with feeling; “not everything, no,” he promises, seals it, vows it straight into Steve’s open mouth so it’ll slip safe down to his heart and soul:

“Not everything,” he whispers, still close enough they can’t breathe without the other there, too, and: that’s heady. That’s real.

“Good,” Steve exhales but with a weight to it, a finality: a seal and vow of his own as he nips Eddie’s swollen lips once, twice, and then tucks himself under Eddie’s chin again, where Eddie’s arms are waiting to envelop him even closer, now; tighter still somehow.

“You’re the center of my world, you know that?” Eddie finally murmurs into Steve’s hair once their breaths have calmed a little, and he can say it steady and sure like he means to, and Steve really just smiles, and burrows that half-an-inch closer, where he compresses Eddie’s flesh to the bone so he can feel the nearest a person can be.

“I do know that,” and it’s not even a fib, or a half-truth: and Eddie already knows the understood ‘you’ of the sentiment clear and well-established—Steve knows Eddie’s love in all sorts of ways, big and small and in between but the first way he probably believed it best was coming to grips with the fact, the unwavering law-of-the-universe fact, that Eddie Munson’s heart beats for Steve the very same Steve’s beats for him. No difference. No more or less. Perfect concert, exact same time signature: precisely shock-start to pump in the first place, like the same spark keeps time in both their chests.

Steve knows he’s loved in ways that don’t have words. Because he loves the very same, and so he knows them intimately, no labels required.

“I already told the promo team we work around your schedule or I’m gonna have to by inconveniently down with the flu for appearances,” Eddie adds as Steve settles back on his chest, soft again and languid: he wasn’t fearful, or even truly hesitant, but—it’s nice. To lean back in and cuddle close.

“You know you don’t have to—“ Steve starts but Eddie tuts him quiet in a flash.

“I do have to. Save my heart the aching, baby,” he presses lips to Steve’s temple and speaks there, drags his mouth wet to the skinL “more important, save yours the same.”

And Steve maybe can’t help but press his own lips first through the cotton of Eddie’s shirt straight to the center of his chest, and then leaning up a little, to the stretched-out collar sneaking the lowest peek of flesh beneath his clavicle: kisses there too, a little sloppy and a lot overfull of feeling as he breathes:

“I love you something wild, Eddie Munson,” and his pulse skips happily, a little dance under Steve’s mouth as he smiles before propping his chin on Eddie’s chest and looking up, meeting the eyes he knows are waiting for him, waiting to lock with his.

And when they do—even after all these years, and Steve has no expectation of it ever change with more to come—but when their eyes meet it’s Steve’s heart that goes giddy, a little off-kilter for joy, and it fucking is that, isn’t it.

It’s wild.

“I love metal, baby,” Eddie answers, and Steve tips his head a little; an odd direction, but he’s intrigued: “music and D&D and meeting the fans,” and Eddie’s playing with his hair again, and he knows what that does, but—

“I feel something so much bigger, for you,” and Jesus, Steve’s in love with maybe the only person in the world who can match him for romance; sometimes outstrips him, even. His heart goes back to dancing chaotic and he couldn’t fucking stifle the grin if he tried, and fuck if he’s ever planning to try.

“Fucking sap,” Steve mouths tight against Eddie’s chest, damp through his shirt for the chuckle he breathes there, weightless and marveling because he gets to have this; they get to have this: they’ve had this for so long and they get to keep it.

“You love it though,” Eddie runs his cheek back and forth across the top of Steve head, and Steve just hums:

“I don’t love it,” he insists with intent in it: “the bigger thing,” he corrects, makes clear: “I feel the bigger thing.”

And Eddie just ducks a smile against Steve’s hair, warm where as it spreads, and Steve can feel it; can’t help him mirror it full as he sighs:

“So tell me more about this pool.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #rockstar eddie munson #domestic fluff #or rather more: domestic LOVE #idiots in love #slice of life #rockstar husbands #they might have enough money for the POOL #criminal levels of softness #steddielovemonth #love is having hope for the future together #these two boys have probably been together around a decade at this point and it FUCKING SHOWS #old married couple!steddie #stranger things

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