Hey guys, figured it was time to actually put a proper masterlist together.
Whether you've just stumbled onto my works or you're someone who's been supporting me for a long time (love you loads) – I hope you enjoy it over here.
I love interacting with you guys, so please leave a comment if nothing else, i'd love to hear from you
<3 li
My Fandoms
(I'm in a lot of fandoms, but currently only really write for stranger things because I have the fuel for it, if you will.)
Stranger Things
• Steve Harrington ☆
• The Hawkins' Gossip Mill
• High Risk... No Reward? (SMAU)
• Dmitri Antonov ⁕
Not the Plan
• Part 1
Requests:
Feel free to request anything using my asks box.
I don't write smut usually just because I'm not very good at it and I feel that you would probably get a better experience from others who are MUCH better, but I mean never say never 🫣
Girl, I am obsessed with that Dmitri fanfic you wrote. Seriously. I am in deeeesperate need of a part 2. Thanks so much girl !!! Keep up the great work!!
oh my GOSSHHH im so glad THANK YOU SO MUCH MY LOVE
IM SO SORRY FOR THE HOLD UP I PROMISE SOMETHING IS COMING IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS
im currently in uni application stages so my life is quite hectic + i'm working on good omens fics (which i don't post on here) BUT I WILL BE WORKING HARD FOR YOU!!!
This is exactly what I wanted to see in the finale. The film was completely devoid of any emotion. They deserved at least an embrace. A desperate, long-awaited one, full of love, the desire to protect, and to love forever… Perhaps with tears, but tears of relief, as well as the longing from a long separation...
REBLOG POSTS❗❗ COMMENT ON FICS❗❗COMPLIMENT FANART ❗❗LEAVE LITTLE NOTES IN THE TAGS❗❗ BOOKMARK FICS YOU LIKE❗❗ TELL AUTHORS WHAT YOU LIKED ABOUT THEIR FICS❗❗COMMENT ON DECADE OLD FICS ❗❗ADD YOUR OWN ANALYSIS IN LONG POSTS❗❗ENGAGE❗❗ INTERACT❗❗ BUILD A COMMUNITY ❗❗
While people don't work for engagement, it certainly doesn't do any harm..
The destruction of the entire universe and every soul in it is a truly depressing ending. Just because God replaced it with another universe that looked similar doesn't change anything - this is Job and his children all over again. Job doesn't want new children, and neither do I.
i'm so over how shows just repeatedly undermine the value of queer love in media if it's not what the show is intended for from the moment it's advertised
and don't tell me that it wouldn't have been different if they were straight. it would've been.
Synopsis: Your daughter gets a little trigger happy with a pair of scissors and Steve’s precious hair.
Pairing: Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!Reader
WC: ~1.9k
Tags: FLUFF, some suggestive language
Notes: I don’t know if it’s all the breeding kink smut I’ve been writing but I’m feeling super maternal rn so here’s this.
Masterlist
A quiet, lazy Sunday was a rare thing in your house but today was one of those days. Nothing needed doing, no one needed seeing, just the three of you enjoying the soft light of the afternoon streaming through the living room windows.
Steve, of course, didn’t take long to drift off on the couch, a magazine on his chest that he just couldn’t keep his eyes open on anymore. You and your little girl crouched around the coffee table. Scraps of coloured paper littered the floor around as you both ripped out shapes for your shared collage.
“Now, you have to be very careful with these okay, baby,” you said quietly to avoid waking Steve as you handed your daughter the pair of scissors.
“Okay mommy.” She mirrored your tone and nodded slowly.
You watched over her like a hawk as she cut out incoherent shapes of the coloured paper. Her little hands worked so carefully just like you said. She reminded you of her dad. Always trying to be careful, but also like her dad, she could often end up being a total clutz.
So entranced by watching her, you jumped out of your skin when the phone rang.
“Shi–sugar,” you just about stopped yourself from swearing. Your daughter was at an age where she seemed to copy everything you and Steve said or did, so you had to be careful.
You hurried to the kitchen where the phone was blaring, worried it would wake Steve from his precious slumber.
“Hello?” you answered.
You managed to stretch the phone cord just enough to be able to peek into the living room, keeping an eye on your two babies.
On the other end of the phone, Nancy’s voice came through. She said something about inviting you all over to a Wheeler barbecue but you weren’t really paying attention, too busy ensuring your little girl didn’t cut herself.
“Yeah, yeah, that sounds nice,” you said down the phone, rubbing your hand over your face. “I’ll check with Steve but– hey!”
You took your eyes off her for a second, one second, you swore it wasn’t any longer than that. But that was all your baby girl needed to make her way over to the couch where Steve laid his head on the arm rest, grab a fist full of his hair and cut it.
You dropped the phone, too frantic to hang it up properly on the wall.
“No, no, no! Baby, no.” You darted into the living room, trying to calmly scold your child without being too loud or frighten her.
She looked at you frozen in place eyes wide with a lock of Steve’s chocolate hair between her fingers. Steve was still completely away in the land of dreams.
“Sorry mommy.” Her voice was almost a whisper. She knew she did something wrong by the tone of your voice, but she looked confused, like she wasn’t really sure what she was saying sorry for.
You picked her up, resting her on your hip and taking the scissors from her.
“Honey, you can’t cut people’s hair without asking,” you said softly swaying her a little.
“I want cut daddy’s hair like you.”
After years of building trust, you did occasionally have the privilege of Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington allowing you to take a pair of scissors to his precious stands. But only when he was between visits to the barber and it just kept falling in his pretty face the wrong way – his words not yours.
“Oh baby, you have to ask daddy first before you can do that.” You stroked her cheek to let her know you weren’t mad at her.
Steve finally started to stir in front of where you stood. His face scrunching up at the light entering his eyes, your blurry figure coming into focus.
“Sorry daddy,” your daughter apologised before Steve was properly aware of his surroundings.
When he saw your worried expression he immediately felt a sense of dread but tried to keep calm for his little girl.
“Sorry for what, sweetheart?”
His eyes then fell to the clump of hair still clutched in her fist. His eyes widened.
“Don’t freak out,” you said slowly.
Steve pushed himself up off the couch and ran to the mirror that hung over the fireplace.
“Oh shi–“ He assessed the damage in the mirror.
Your baby girl had taken a chunk right from where his hair swooped out from the top of his forehead.
“It’s–it’s not so bad,” he tried to reassure himself.
It did look bad, you felt guilty at how much you had to fight to not laugh at him in the situation. You heard your girl sniffle in your arms, sensing that Steve was unhappy. He turned around at the sound too.
“Honey, no, it’s okay.” He took her from your arms and let her bury her face in his warm chest. “Don’t cry.”
You looked at Steve with a somber expression, you couldn’t help but feel like the situation was your fault. He gave you a soft smile to let you know it would all be alright.
“She wanted to cut your hair like I do,” you interjected.
“Is that right?” Steve chuckled. “You want to be like mommy don’t you.” He stroked her hair as she nodded against the soft material of his shirt.
“I’ll tell you what.” He placed a finger under her chin to hold her little face up to look at him. “Why don’t you help mommy even it out, huh?”
“Even it out?” You repeated sceptically.
“Yeah, you think you can do that for me sweetheart.”
She nodded her little head vigorously, her wide smile appearing on her face again. You watched Steve’s eyes light up as he looked at her.
Later that afternoon you had Steve sitting on the edge of the bath tub. You stood in front of him between his spread legs as you guided the scissors through his strands. You held your daughter’s tiny hand in yours as her’s held the scissors. You were, much to Steve’s relief, doing all the work. But it made your little girl feel involved. She had that furrowed brow, focused look on her face, her tongue jutting out in concentration. An expression that she without a doubt got from Steve. She stood on a step stool next to you, Steve helping to keep her steady with his arm wrapped around her and his hand on her back.
He wished he had his camera right now because the image of his favourite girls, so lovingly tending to his hair was something he wanted to capture forever.
“How’s it looking?” He said to the both of you.
“Shh daddy, I’m working,” your daughter responded.
You and Steve shared a look as you stifled your laughs, both of you wondered which of you she picked up the phrase from.
“Sorry,” he rubbed her back as he spoke, “I won’t disturb your vision.”
Steve’s other hand had settled on the back of your thigh. He gave you a tight squeeze just to watch the smile that spread on your face as he did.
“Okay sweetie, you think we’re done?” You asked your little girl.
She took a step back and you saw the panic in Steve's eyes as she nearly stepped off the step stool, his hold on her tightening.
She looked over his hair for a moment, her hand rubbing at her chin in thought. Another one of Steve’s mannerisms. You wondered if Steve noticed how like him his daughter was. He would constantly say how much she reminded him of you, her smile, her gorgeous little face, how kind she was. But you saw so much of him in her and it made you love the both of them that little bit more.
After giving it a lot of thought, your daughter turned to you and gave you an excited nod.
“Show daddy then.” You passed her the mirror, it looked so big in her tiny hands as she held it up in front of Steve’s.
“You like it?” She asked slightly hesitantly.
Steve gave her his best blue steel look into the mirror as he turned his head from side to side to assess your work.
“I love it!” He said, his smile so wide it spread throughout his whole face.
“Yay!” Your daughter squealed and started jumping up and down.
You took the mirror from her so she could throw her arms around Steve and give him a big hug. He held her close, lifting her off the stool to perch her on his knee which he bounced lightly.
“Mommy, you love it too?” She asked you.
You ran your hand through Steve’s, now slightly shorter, but just as soft locks. Both Steve and your little girl looked at you expectantly.
“I do, he looks very handsome.” That was your very PG way of saying Steve looked so damn sexy. He smirked at you as if he knew that’s what you meant.
“I think we’ve got a little hair dresser on our hands”, Steve said stroking the soft brown strands of your daughter's hair. It was slightly lighter than Steve’s, much like his in his baby photos, almost blonde.
“Should we do mommy’s next?” Steve suggested.
“No–“ Your protest was quickly overshadowed by another one of your daughter’s excited squeals.
“Yes!”
“No, no, no–“
Steve stood up, placing your daughter's feet on the floor helping her stand. “C’mon honey, if we want her to be a hair dressing prodigy, she’s gonna need the practice.”
“Steve, I swear if you come anywhere near me with those–“
“Please mommy!” Your little girl pulled the hem of your shirt to get your attention.
God, it was really hard to resist two sets of big, brown, puppy dog eyes pleading with you. Curse Steve and his dominant genes.
“Okay, okay,” you caved. “Just a little trim off the bottom.”
“We’ll do a good job, won’t we sweetheart,” Steve said, ruffling his daughter’s hair.
“Yeah! Good job,” she repeated.
“Why don’t you go grab mommy’s hair brush,” Steve said, bending down to your daughter's level.
He knew she knew exactly where it was because she loved to play dress up at your dressing table.
“Okay,” she said, already running off.
As soon as she left the room, Steve pulled you into a kiss. His arm around your waist and a hand holding the back of your head. You felt the room spin as if it was the first time he touched his lips to yours. He lent his forehead on yours when he pulled away, keeping you close to him.
“We made her,” he said.
“Did we? Sometimes I think you managed to clone yourself.”
Steve chuckled. “Oh, so you don’t remember how babies are made? I’ll have to remind you.” He kissed you again before placing a few more down the side of your neck.
“Steve…” you sighed, half a warning, half a soft whine. “Try keep it in your pants until bedtime, I have an appointment at the salon,” you joked.
You then heard soft but determined stomps approaching and you pushed Steve off you slightly but let him hover in the air around you.
“Got it!” Your little girl announced, waving your hair brush in the air.
“Alright sweetheart,” Steve clapped his hands together, “let’s make mommy look pretty.”
“Mommy pretty already,” she corrected him.
“You’re right my love, she is,” Steve said to her but he looked at you.
As your eyes locked you thought ‘how’d I get so lucky?’ Steve thought the exact same thing.
A/N: I totally got a cuteness overload writing this, hope you enjoyed!! <3 also if you’ve sent me a request recently please know that I am working on it!!! Love yous
