⥠ABOUT ME: call me lue ââ â â she/her. eighteen. just a fangirl who daydreams a little too much. harry stylesâ luver first, steve harringtonâs slut second. clark kent enthusiast. an anemic girlie with a few too many food allergies. this is an 18+ blog ââ â â minors do not interact. i do not consent to my work being used in AI or plagiarized. requests are always open!
Im not the biggest harry fan but i've been wanting to get more into his music and i guess this new album is the perfect opportunity too!! (although those ticket prices were a bit iffy imođŹ)
unfortunately, i did not đ
i love harry to the end of the earth, but i just couldnât justify spending almost 1k on a single concert ticket. and thatâs not even including my airfare to nyc, a hotel, food, and all the other little expenses. as much as i would love to be there screaming the lyrics with everyone else, iâll be living vicariously through livestreams, tiktoks, and everyone elseâs videos while dancing along in my apartment like iâm actually there.
spiritually iâm barricade, financially iâm in my living room.
BUT, the new album is amaze and i went to his pop up in my city so thatâs something đ
i havenât posted on here in so long that i lowkey feel shy coming back đ but i genuinely love the little community weâve built and i really want to get to know you guys better. youâre all so sweet and supportive and it means more to me than you know.
sooo if you have any questions for me about writing, life, fav tropes, steve thoughts, literally anything, pls send them in and iâll answer!! i think itâd be fun to do a little q&a and actually interact with everyone more instead of just lurking.
(ps if any of my moots want my socials, iâll happily give them bc i love yall and iâm always down to stay connected đ)
first of all, my BIGGEST apologies for basically falling off the face of the earth (posting-wise⌠you already know iâm still lurking in the steve harrington tags). life has been insane lately, but i promise iâm still writing. i have SO many drafts going right now (literally 54 half-written fics), so over the next few days iâm locking in, revising, editing, and finally getting some of them posted!!!
pls lmk which ones youâre most interested in so i know what order to post them in đ iâll add descriptions later, but for rn here are the titles:
girly how are we feeling about the harry comeback, and also are you going to see him !!!
LIFE IS WORTH LIVING AGAIN. the birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and my family is already sick of me talking about him.
iâm going to try my hardest to get tickets and win the war, but iâm not getting my hopes up. iâm a little bummed that heâs only playing nyc because thatâs across the country from me (shoutout the pnw), but iâve been to ny a couple times and would absolutely die to see harry live in one of my favorite cities.
manifesting that all the harries get tix (and that he adds more dates)!!!! đŻď¸â¨
hiiii are you okayđ its been some weeks since you last appeared here!!
hiii yes iâm all good, youâre so sweet for checking in! iâve been so busy with work and school and getting settled into my new city, but iâm finally starting to feel comfortable. iâve still been writing, just not editing or posting, but iâll have so many drafts to post once i fully finish them!!
also, i have some boy drama going on (ugh) but iâm not gonna let him ruin my vibe! plus itâs actually giving me some ideas for stories (tangledluver, your tate mcrae inspired steve fic is coming soon⌠i have a little too much inspo unfortunately)
but yes, all is well and iâm hoping to post soon. if not this month, then most def in the new year (but probably sooner since the new eps come out next week!)
contents: 18+ MDNI, steve harrington x fem!reader, basically just that one really embarrassing note passing scene in sixteen candles hehe, part 2?
Independent study was always the worst kind of quiet.
Not peaceful. Not relaxing. Just heavy. The kind that pressed into your ears until every tiny sound felt illegalâpen clicks, page turns, the soft scrape of a chair leg on the linoleum floors. It also didnât help that Mrs. OâConnell ruled the room with a permanent look of disappointment.
You sat in your usual seat. Middle of the room. Third row back. Predictable. Comfortable. Forgettable.
Melissa sat directly behind you, chin propped in her hand, eyes already drooping as she pretended to read her worksheet.
And one row behind herâone seat to the leftâsat Steve Harrington.
You hadnât realized it until he pulled his chair out.
The faint scrape of metal against tile. The familiar, careless movement. That quiet confidence that seemed to announce him without sound.
You didnât turn around, but your pulse immediately betrayed you.
You were nobody special at Hawkins High. Not invisible enough to be bullied. Not interesting enough to matter. You existed quietly between louder people.
Steve existed loudly, whether he meant to or not.
Youâd had a crush on Steve for as long as you could remember.
It was the quiet kind of crushâbackground noise in your brain. The kind that showed up when he laughed too loudly in the halls, when his hair looked especially perfect in the mornings, when girls leaned into him like they belonged there, or when sunlight hit him just right.
But you never acted on it.
Because he was Steve Harrington.
And you were, well, you.
You kept your eyes on your paper, pretending your pulse wasnât suddenly loud in your ears.
Earlier that morning in Child Development, Jennifer had leaned across the aisle with mischief written all over her face and slipped a folded piece of notebook paper into your lap.
âItâs a sex test,â sheâd whispered. âYou fill it out and pass it to Melissa in independent study.â
Youâd stared at it in horror. âNo. Absolutely not.â
âYour nameâs not on it,â she said. âItâs anonymous. Everyoneâs doing it.â
You shouldâve thrown it away.
But now it sat tucked under your notebook, heavy with embarrassment and poor decision-making as the classroom fell into silence.
You carefully slid the paper out.
Your face warmed instantly.
Have you ever touched it?
You hesitated, then scribbled:
Almost
Have you ever done it?
You felt ridiculous even answering.
I donât think so?
If you answered âI donât think so,â would you ever if you could?
Your pencil hovered longer this time.
I guess so
With who? (Be honest. Your nameâs not on this so itâs okay)
Your heart kicked hard in your chest.
You told yourself it was just a fantasy. Someone completely unattainable and therefore safe.
You started writing before you could stop yourself.
Steve Harrington
Your stomach dropped the second you finished the last letter.
Does he know that you want to with him?
Your answer was immediate and violent:
NO!!!
You folded the paper quickly and shoved it beneath your notebook as if it might burst into flames.
All you had to do was give it to Melissa.
Simple.
You waited for Mrs. OâConnell to look down at the papers on her desk, then leaned back in your chair, pretending to stretch. You let the folded paper slip from your fingers behind you without even looking.
She would grab it.
You didnât think twice about it.
You straightened in your seat and went back to your worksheet, completely unaware that Melissa was asleep behind you.
Steve noticed the paper almost immediately.
At first, he assumed it was homework. Maybe you dropped a worksheet by accident. He nudged it lightly with his shoe, meaning to push it back towards your row.
But then he saw how carefully it was folded.
Curious, he leaned forward and trapped it under his sneaker just as Mrs. OâConnell glanced up. When her attention returned to her desk, he bent down and picked it up.
He didnât unfold it right away.
But by the time the bell rang a few minutes later, he was already gone.
You tapped Melissaâs shoulder as people stood and the room filled with noise. âHey. Did you get it?â
She blinked groggily. âGet what?â
âThe note,â you whispered.
âWhat note?â
Your stomach dropped.
You pulled her into the hallway as panic crept up your spine.
âYou swear to God you donât have it?â
âI donât know anything about it,â she said.
âJennifer Woods gave me a sex test during Child Development, and I was supposed to do it and pass it to you in independent study,â you said. âIâm totally screwed.â
Melissa stopped walking. âDid you put your name on it?â
âNo, but it was really embarrassing! I had to name who Iâd do it with if I ever did it.â
Her eyes narrowed. ââŚwhoâd you name?â
You swallowed. âSteve HarringtonâŚ.â
Her eyes widened. âSteve Harrington?! He doesnât even know you exist.â
âWow. Thank you,â you muttered. âSuper comforting.â
âIâm sorry, but STEVE HARRINGTON?! Heâs a senior. And heâs taken. Like, seriously taken.â
âI know! It was just my ideal.â
She shook her head. âI mean, heâs ideal, sure. But forget it.â
You groaned. âGod, I hope whoever found that note doesnât know it was me. Iâd shit twice and die.â
The rest of the day passed in heightened paranoia.
Every laugh felt suspicious. Every glance felt loaded. You avoided the common areas, especially the senior hallway. By the end of the day, you were exhausted.
The final bell rang, and you met Melissa by your locker. The hallway buzzed with end-of-day energyâmetal slamming, voices overlapping, backpacks thudding to the floor.
âI swear,â you muttered as you shoved books into your bag, âif that note resurfaces, Iâm moving states.â
Melissa laughed. âYouâll survive. Steve probably has half the school secretly crushing on him.â
âYeah,â you said quietly. âBut it still.â
You shut your locker and followed her toward the exit, sunlight spilling through the glass doors at the far end of the hall.
You never noticed Steve a few lockers down.
He leaned casually against the metal, friends talking around him as he pulled the folded paper from his jacket pocket.
He hesitated.
Then he unfolded it.
Have you ever touched it?
Almost
Have you ever done it?
I donât think so?
If you answered âI donât think so,â would you ever if you could?
I guess so
With who? (Be honest. Your nameâs not on this so itâs okay)
Steve Harrington
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Does he know that you want to with him?
NO!!!
A slow, surprised smile spread across his face before he could stop it.
Across the hallway, you and Melissa pushed through the doors into the afternoon light, laughter floating behind you as you chatted about weekend plans.
Steve looked up just in time to see you disappear into the sun.
He folded the paper carefully.
Slipped it back into his pocket.
And kept his eyes on the exit long after you were gone.
contents: 18+ MDNI, steve harrington x fem!reader, steve x hopper!daughter yet again, steve being a nervous wreck as always, not necessary to read animals but it makes it more fun!
The rules had been very clear.
Dinner and dessert at the diner.
Then straight home.
Steve had nodded so many times during Hopperâs pre-date warning he was pretty sure heâd strained a muscle in his neck.
Now, his car idled far too loudly at the curb in front of your house, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing anchoring him to the earth, headlights washing over the front of your house like he wasnât quite ready to let the night end. The porch light glowed warm and steady. Hopperâs truck was parked where it always was. A silent, looming reminder.
You unbuckled slowly, drawing out the moment. âWell,â you said, soft and warm, âthis is me.â
Steve cleared his throat. âYeah. Yeah, Iâuh. I know. I mean. Obviously. I drove here.â
You smiled at him, trying not to laugh. He always did this when he got nervousâsaid the wrong words in the wrong order like his brain tripped over itself on the way to his mouth.
âThank you for tonight,â you added. âIt was really fun.â
His mouth did that crooked thing it always did when he was happy but trying not to show it too hard. âIt was. Yeah. I had fun too. A lot of fun. Likeâmore than a lot. The most. I meanââ
You laughed this time, unable to help it, and his ears turned pink instantly.
âOkay,â he said, chuckling at himself. âIâm gonna stop talking now.â
He finally killed the engine and hurried around to your side of the car before you even had time to open the door. You teased him for it every timeâhow he still insisted on opening the door for you like it was a rule written somewhere in the universeâbut secretly, it made your chest feel warm.
You bit back a smile and stepped out. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of cut grass and something faintly floral from your neighborâs yard. Crickets buzzed in the distance. Everything felt quiet in that way that made your heart beat a little louder. The faint smells of grease and sugar from the diner still clung to your clothes. The date had been simple. Burgers and milkshakes. A shared piece of pie. His leg bouncing under the table every time the bell on the diner door rang.
It had felt⌠normal.
Steve stopped one step below the porch, like an invisible line had been drawn there. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, rocking back on his heels.
âSo, um,â he began, eyes flicking briefly toward the front door like he expected it to swing open at any second, âI had a really good time. With you. Obviously. Not just likeâgenerally. I mean, you were great and the food wasâwell, the food was actually kind of terrible, but that part was my fault because I picked the placeââ
You stepped closer, gently interrupting the spiral. âSteve.â
He froze.
âYeah. Hi. Thatâs me,â he said automatically.
You shook your head fondly. âI had fun too. Even with the soggy fries.â
He smiled at that, shoulders relaxing just a little. The space between you felt suddenly smallerâcharged with something soft and nervous and electric all at once.
He lifted one hand, hesitating in midair like he wasnât sure he was allowed to touch you. Then, carefully, he brushed a strand of hair back from your face, fingertips barely grazing your temple.
The touch made your breath catch, letting out a shaky laugh.
âI like when you laugh,â he said quietly. âYou laugh with your whole face. Itâsâum. Itâs⌠nice.â
âYouâre cute.â You said through a giggle.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
His hand was still tucked near your ear, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek like he wasnât fully aware he was doing it. The porch light caught in his eyes, warm and unsure and soft in a way youâd only seen when it was just the two of you.
âIâuh,â he started, then stopped.
You tilted your head slightly. âWhat?â
âI justâŚâ He swallowed. âI really like you. To the point where my brain completely stopped working just now.âHe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. âJesus. Okay.â
You stared at him, half amused, half melting. âSteve, you know weâve kissed before, right?â
âYeah I justâŚwant to do it right.â He took a breath, steadier this time. âCan IâŚ?â
He didnât finish the question.
He didnât have to.
You nodded.
His hand slipped from your hair to your jaw, warm and tentative. He leaned in slowly, like he was afraid you might change your mind if he moved too fast. Your heart hammered so hard you were certain he could hear it. The world narrowed to the space between your mouths, to the faint smell of his cologne, to the way his breath ghosted over your lips.
Just as he closed the final inchâ
The front door flew open.
Light spilled out across the porch in a blinding rectangle. Hopper stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unimpressed and unyielding.
âThatâs close enough.â
Steve startled so violently he nearly fell off the porch.
Your body reacted on pure instinctâstepping back, face blazing, hands flying up as if youâd been caught doing something far worse than kissing your almost boyfriend on your own front porch.
âChief! I meanâHopperâsirâGodââ Steve stammered, nearly tripping on his own feet. âI was justâuhâwe were saying goodnight. Respectfully. Very respectfully. Extremely respectfully actuallyââ
Hopper leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes flicking slowly between the two of you with maddening calm. âYeah. Looked real respectful from where I was standing.â
Steveâs face turned the color of a fire truck. âYes, sir. I meanâno, sir. I meanâthere was no actualâphysicalâcontact. With the mouth. With her mouth. Or mine. Yet. I meanâever. Not ever. Well not ever ever, weâveââ
Hopperâs mustache twitched. âYou done?â
He stopped talking instantly, nodding stiffly. âYes, sir.â
Silence settledâthick, awkward, suffocating.
You cleared your throat. âDad, you said ten-thirty.â
Hopper glanced at his watch. âItâs ten-thirty-fourâ
Steve looked like he was about to faint. âIâm late. Iâm so late. Iâm so sorry. This isâthis is the worst possible first date ending in the history of endings.â
Hopper pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his presence filling the porch in a way that made Steve shrink back an inch without realizing it.
Hopper turned to you. His expression softened just the tiniest bit. âInside.â
You gave Steve a helpless, apologetic look and mouthed, Iâm sorry.
You slipped inside, but before the door closed fully, you heard Hopper call out one last time.
âHarrington.â
âChiefâsirâHopperâMr. HopperâDadâI mean not Dad, to me, obviously, to youâsirâ
âBoy, shut up.â Hopper said raising a hand to silence him. âYou bring her home on time tomorrow.â
Steve blinked. âTomorrow?â
A beat.
Hopperâs eyes narrowed.
Steve nodded rapidly. âYes, sir. On time. Early, even. Early is good. I love being early.â
Hopper turned back toward the door, muttered a âGoodnightâ and let the door slam shut.
You leaned against the wall just inside, heart racing, face still burning. Through the glass, you watched Steve stand frozen for a full three seconds, then he let out the loudest, shakiest exhale youâd ever heard.
He had made it halfway down the front path when he heard his name.
Soft. Urgent.
He turned just in time to see you running toward him, bare feet against the concrete, breath a little uneven like youâd made up your mind in motion.
âSorry about my dad,â you said quietly as you reached him, fingers curling into the front of his jacket before he could speak. âI justââ
And then you kissed him.
Right there under the open skyâno shadows, no hiding, no rushing. Just you and him and the quiet thrum of nerves and choice and want. Steve froze for half a second in absolute shock before his hands found your waist on instinct, pulling you closer like muscle memory had taken over before fear could stop him.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
You pulled back first.
Steve barely remembered how to breathe.
And then, his instincts caught up with him.
He looked over your shoulder.
At the house.
Hopper was standing in the doorway.
Watching.
Steveâs heart dropped straight into his stomach. Any second now, he was dead. Buried in the yard. Never to be seen again. Hopps the chief of police, he could cover it up.
But he didnât yell.
Didnât move.
Didnât even clear his throat.
He just stood there in the porch light, unreadable as ever.
And thenâso small Steve almost didnât trust his own eyesâthe corner of Hopperâs mouth twitched.
Not a smile.
Not really.
But⌠maybe something close.
Steve swallowed hard and looked back at you. âIâmâuhâIâm choosing to believe that was approval.â
You smiled, still breathless. âLet him pretend he hates you.â
Steve nodded solemnly. âBest case scenario.â
He pressed a quick, gentle kiss to your foreheadâsoft, careful, earnedâbefore finally stepping back.
âGoodnight,â he murmured.
âGoodnight.â
This time, as he turned and walked the rest of the way down the path toward his car, he didnât look back at the house.
A/n: never been kissed before and if my first kiss isnât on the front porch after a pre planned pre approved date iâm gonna be fuming!
also sorry if this is a little sloppy! i skimmed over it while editing instead of a thorough re-read so if the ending is rushed or if itâs inconsistent, sorry!!!
hiiii, i just wanted to say how much i appreciate your writing like omg its so good, the way you write is amazing and has so much meaning behind it!! LOVE IT đ¤
hey so what if i started crying? this is so sweet, u have no idea how much this means to me. thank u!!!
