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dreamy625 · 4 days

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Just keep dancing like we're twenty-two - one-shot

(Did I just use a Taylor Swift lyric for a title? Yes I did. I feel dirty.)

1983 and the Terror Twins, on a break between US dates of the Pyromania tour, are on a night out

Words: 2495

Content: Casual drinking, swearing

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“‘Ere, my mate thinks you’re fucking gorgeous”

“Oh does he? And who’s your mate?”

The forthright young man gestured behind him at another, also blond, but taller and skinnier and with considerably less swagger. When he realised he was being looked at, the second man ducked his head and stared fixedly at the floor.

“Cute,” thought Belinda, but she can’t be doing with shy, too much work for just one night. “Yeah, I don’t think so. But,” she reached out and smoothed down Phil’s collar where it had flicked up on one side, trailing her hand down the front of his shirt, “if you’re looking for some company this evening…? I just looove your accent…” She fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly.

“I, um, I don’t… not that I wouldn’t want… but you know… my mate… I can’t leave him on his own y’see.”

“Ah well, your loss, sweetie.” She patted him on the head and strode off to look for a more susceptible prospect.

And that was the fifth strikeout of the evening; the two women they’d danced with early on had turned out to have husbands waiting at home; the group at the bar were on a hen night and the bride unconvinced by Phil’s argument that she should take this one last chance to bag an englishman; the girl Steve had bought a drink for had just been dumped by her boyfriend and cried at him for 45 minutes until he asked the barman to call her a cab; and a glamorous blonde whose stiletto heels made her about six inches taller than Phil had just looked him up and down and said ‘no’ before he even opened his mouth! After this latest failure, they retreated to a table beside the dancefloor to soothe their bruised egos with more vodka, and maybe reconsider their strategy.

“I promised I’d get you laid for your birthday and I’m standing by that. Though at this rate I’m going to have to shag you myself!”

“Thanks for the offer, mate, but you’re not really my type. I think we just have to face the truth, I’m unfuckable.”

“Bollocks, I’ve seen loads of girls sneaking out of your room. Unless you’ve just been playing Scrabble with them in there?”

“Not loads, and that’s different, that’s after shows. They want to get with the guy they watched on stage. When it’s just this,” he gestured down at himself, “they’re not interested.”

“You’ve just got to put yourself out there. It’s a numbers game - if you ask enough, one of ‘em’s gotta say yes. Basic statistics innit!”

“Maybe I don’t want just anyone who’ll have me.”

“Then that’s your problem; it’s not your ugly mug, it’s your attitude - too picky.” He scanned the club and then tilted his head in the direction of a couple of girls carrying brightly coloured drinks and weaving through the tables in search of somewhere to sit. “What about those two? A redhead, I know they’re your favourite.”

Steve looked, with only moderate enthusiasm. “Not bad. I do like her hair. Go on then, do your thing.”

“Alright.” He rubbed his hands together. “But you’ve got to make some effort. At least smile - all the birds go nuts for the Clark smile!”

The owner of the ‘Clark smile’ rolled his eyes but obligingly pasted on what he hoped was a friendly and appealing grin.

Phil stepped into the path of the two wandering women and, dialling his chirpy cockney persona up to maximum, waylaid them with, “Ladies, if you’d be so kind as to join us, you’d be makin’ two lonely travellers in your great country very ‘appy.”

The two women exchanged sidelong glances, and when the redhead opened her mouth, ‘nah, you’re alright, mate’ came out in an equally strong East London accent.

Phil gaped at them - he was relying on American girls swooning in the face of British charm and had no back-up plan for unexpectedly encountering two of his fellow countrywomen, so all he could do was watch as they carried on their way, giggling.

Steve shook his head, the enticing smile turning into a grimace. “This is getting embarrassing.” He drained the last of his drink and dropped the glass back on the table with a clunk. “I’m going for a piss.”

When he got back, Phil was talking to a petite black woman in a bright blue dress at the bar and, miracle of miracles, she actually seemed to be talking back.

“Yep, it’s definitely me that’s the problem,” he muttered under his breath. “He’s sodding Erol Flynn when I’m not there cramping his style.” He was highly tempted just to go back to the hotel and leave his Twin to it, but before he could make the move, Phil spotted him and waved him over.

“This is my mate I was telling you about; Steve, meet Denise, and this is Suzy.”

A woman Steve hadn’t noticed before, slouching against the bar, lifted her hand in a lacklustre greeting. She was tall and a little mousey in comparison with her brightly-attired friend, and would be pretty enough if she didn’t look quite so grumpy. She would be the designated 'have you got a friend for my pal who's too inept to find someone himself' then. Oh well, better than playing gooseberry again - frequently Steve's fate on nights out with Phil.

Small talk was not Steve’s forte, and the best he could manage was essentially ‘what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’.

“So, err, what brings you and your friend here tonight?”

“We were supposed to have dates, but they stood us up.” She glared at Steve who, as a representative of the male sex, was apparently at least partially to blame for this slight.

“Oh…sorry…” Not a great start. “They must be total idiots then,” he declared in a hopeful stab at gallantry.

“Or we are, to have agreed to it in the first place,” she muttered, still frowning.

Steve waved to the barman and ordered doubles of everything for everyone, hoping that alcohol would serve as social lubricant. After a fortifying gulp of his vodka and orange, he tried again.

"How do you and… Denise was it? Know each other?"

"We're roommates. We were at college together and decided to stay and get jobs after we graduated."

"What do you do now?"

"I'm a techie at the Paramount; Denise is a junior buyer at Nordstrom's. Much more glamorous."

"The Paramount? The theatre?"

"You know it?"

"I think we played there last time we were here. We're… in a band," he added offhandedly.

"Your friend said. I wasn't sure I believed him; a lot of guys say they're in a band. If they think it's going to impress a girl."

"Oh. Well I don’t know about that, but we actually are."

"Is it one I'll have heard of?"

"Maybe. Def Leppard?" She looked blank so he half-sang, "Photograph… I don’t want your photograph…" and made some drrng drring noises with accompanying mime.

"Oh, yeah, I might have heard that on the radio. Not really my thing though, sorry."

Crestfallen, Steve didn't really have a comeback for that. He took a long swallow of his drink and looked across to where Phil was whispering into Denise's ear, something funny apparently given the giggling response. "Well they seem to be getting along nicely," he observed.

"Yeah. Sorry you're stuck with me."

"Not at all, nowhere I'd rather be."

"That's sweet of you, but you don't have to pretend. I'm always the consolation prize; I mean look at her, she’s so gorgeous, and tiny, and peppy, and I’m just this great galumphing giraffe next to her.”

“No, you’re very… err…” he floundered, looking for a word that was flattering but not patronising, “...elegant.” She rolled her eyes. “And you’re not that tall.” He straightened up and stepped nearer - her forehead was level with his eyes. “See,” he said, putting both hands on her waist, “perfect height! …For… dancing…?” he hazarded, suddenly realising just how up close and personal he had got. “Err, would you… like to?”

For a moment it looked like she was going to turn him down, but when a glance along the bar revealed the other two gazing into each other's eyes and clearly about ten seconds from sucking face, she acquiesced with a halfhearted ‘oh alright then’.

Now Steve was no dancer but, since his feeble attempts at flirtatious chitchat had entirely failed, he had decided to deploy his only other weapon - making an idiot of himself in the hopes of at least raising a smile. It was a risky strategy, with embarrassment followed by a speedy retreat as likely a reaction as laughter, but at this point he had no other options and was just drunk enough to deem it worth a go. And obligingly the DJ was playing Prince so, having led them far enough into the dancing throng that he wouldn’t be a spectacle to everyone watching from the bar, he busted out his best, most exaggerated, hip-popping, shoulder-shimmying moves. For about twenty seconds Suzy just stood there staring wide-eyed as he threw himself around, then she shrugged and, to Steve’s delight, launched into a routine of her own that suggested she might have seen a few too many John Travolta movies! After bouncing and gyrating through three songs, to the increasing irritation of their fellow dancers who had to try and keep out of the way of Steve’s flailing arms, the DJ put on a smoochier number and Steve held out his hand and twirled his partner into a more typical slow dance hold. She leaned into him, out of breath but grinning.

“You are crazy!” she panted.

“Look who’s talking, Ginger Rogers!”

Looking over Steve's shoulder, she raised her eyebrows as she spotted their two friends still by the bar but now entwined like amorous octopuses. "I think it might be time for us all to get out of here, before those two commit an act of public indecency!"

Steve let himself be pulled off the dancefloor, feeling that this evening might be working out okay after all.

The boys' oh so classy hotel, with nylon bedspreads and perpetually dripping shower, appealed to precisely no one, so the group left the club for the short walk to the girls' downtown apartment. Progress to their destination was slowed by Phil and Denise's apparent need to have at least three body parts in contact at all times, and the other two opted to walk on the opposite side of the street, pausing at each corner for the lovers to catch up. Conversation flowed more easily now, Steve sharing stories of life on the road and Suzy detailing the backstage antics of the various bands who'd played at the theatre. When Steve let slip that it was his birthday, Suzy was a little sad to learn that, being so far from home, he hadn’t really done anything to celebrate it, just the few cards that had managed to make it to the right hotel on time and this night out with Phil.

“Oh no, I don’t think we’ve even got any cake. I could stick a candle in a packet of cookies if you like?”

“Mmm, burning plastic is so festive!”

“You're supposed to blow it out before it starts a fire, dumbass.”

“Ohh, that’s what I’ve been doing wrong!”

They stopped to wait for the dawdlers and Suzy asked, “There must be something nice I can give you for your birthday?”

The way she said it - he wasn’t sure if he was being flirted with. “What did you have in mind?” he asked lightly, not presuming. But she just gave him a sideways smile and started walking again.

"So, coffee?" Suzy asked when they entered the small two-bedroom walk-up. But the other couple were practically clawing each other's clothes off in the hall and vanished into Denise's bedroom without even replying.

“I guess just me then,” replied Steve, feeling suddenly shy again now that the evening was rapidly approaching the point where he would need to make some kind of move. That was the advantage of the groupies - even if those girls weren’t necessarily the type he would have gone for in the regular non-showbiz world, they made most of the running and he didn’t have to find anything clever or suave to say beyond ‘ullo in his apparently adorable British accent. Real girls were harder and he was out of practice.

“Livingroom’s through there,” she told him, “make yourself comfortable.”

Taking cups out of the cupboard, Suzy reconsidered her original intention to maybe get Steve’s number and then send him on his way. Hook-ups weren’t really her thing, and the guys were only in town for another few days before disappearing to the other end of the country but… he was pretty cute, and funny, and it would be better than trying to avoid listening to the other two go at it all night through the wall. While the coffeemaker dripped, she used the darkened window as a mirror to fluff up her hair and wipe any stray mascara from under her eyes. Before picking up the two cups, she rearranged her top so it draped enticingly over one shoulder and added a swish to her walk as she re-entered the living room. However, she quickly realised that her feminine wiles would be wasted - their intended recipient was fast asleep on the couch. Briefly she considered waking him, but he looked so peaceful, and it was nearly 2am. She took the coffees back to the kitchen and poured both of them down the sink - no point being awake if there was no one to play with. She found a blanket and laid it gently over the sleeping man.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she murmured, and kissed him on the cheek.

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Epilogue:

When Steve opened his eyes the next morning, it took him a minute or so to work out where he was - oh yeah, those two girls from the nightclub. Ah, but he was on a sofa and, he checked, fully dressed, so clearly whatever seduction technique he'd attempted had been rebuffed.

“Morning, sunshine!”

A pretty girl with mussed-up hair and mile-long legs appearing from the bottom of a John Denver t-shirt was smiling at him. He smiled back while the words ‘Sarah… Samantha… Suzy!’ crawled through his befuddled brain.

“Do you want your birthday present?” She held out a toothbrush, new and still in its packaging.

“But it’s not my birthday anymore.”

“Pretend. Bathroom’s second door on the left down the hall.”

Not awake enough to argue, Steve took it and shambled to the bathroom. When he reemerged, feeling a bit more with it after peeing, brushing his teeth, and washing his face with cold water, Suzy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom opposite.

“Nice t-shirt,” he teased.

“Just get in here before I change my mind, birthday boy.”

#steve clark #phil collen #steve clark fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #birthday fic #happy birthday stevie

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make-me-your-animal · 7 months

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Chapter 12: Room numbers

Authors note: I'm not a hundred percent sure how I feel about this chapter, but it's also driving me crazy that I haven't finished this story yet. It's literally making it, so I can't write anything else. I have spent hours just staring at a blank page, trying to come up with something. This will be the second to last sirens and leppard chapter. But I have already started a sequel, so we will see. I hope you all enjoy it.

Room 306:

"Steve, wake up." Amaya giggled. she had already gotten ready for her day. washed her face, brushed her teeth, and brushed out her hair. when she returned to the main room, Steve was still curled into the blankets. All she could see confirming a person was even under the heap of white comforter was his wild hair. She wasn't surprised in the slightest, Steve was a lot of things, but a morning person wasn't one of them.

She frowned. Something seemed off today. Usually, he would just beg her to join him under the covers, but today, he just pulled the blanket up until there was nothing for her to see.

"Stevieeee," she purred, pulling on the edge of the blanket. He clutched it tight, not letting go.

"No," he grumbled. His voice was barely audible, but she could hear the sadness in it.

"Why not?" She asked, crawling back into bed with him. He engulfed her in his caccoon. The blanket was just thin enough that she could see him clear as day as they laid facing each other under the white comforter.

"Last night of the tour," he said slowly like that would answer her question. Amaya tilted her head to the side. What did that have to do with anything?

"And?" She questioned when the blonde didn't elaborate.

"Don't want this to end is all," he shrugged. His blue eyes were clouded with sadness. "I just... I don't think I've ever been this happy before. You make me feel happy... i love you more than I've ever loved someone."

"Oh, steve," she reached out a hand to craddle his face. "It won't end, baby. You make me happy, too. I'm not gonna throw away over a year of a loving relationship just because we aren't getting paid for it anymore. I love you too much for that"

"Promise?" He still looked nervous. It broke her heart.

"Promise," Amaya leaned in, kissing Steve softly.

"Promise you won't tell phil. I told you I love you more than him," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Fear not Stevie. Your secret's safe with me, "she giggled, kissing his nose."Now get your ass out of bed. I want breakfast, " she stated, throwing the blanket off both of them.

Steve grumbled again, but this time sat up. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table before flopping back down. It was progress Amaya felt.

Room 304

"Last day of the tour," phil whispered, running his fingers through gemma's blonde hair he slowly worked out the knots that had formed as Her head lay on his chest. He wasn't even sure she was wake. The sun had just peaked over the horizon, and they had been dozing in and out of consciousness together.

"Shhhh," she hissed, pressing her finger against his lips. "I don't want to think about it"

"This will change nothing between us, you know that, right? Im not letting you go anywhere. i worked too hard for this." phil stated rolled over, so he was hoving over her on all fours. Gemma scooted up the bed until she was eye level with him again.

He had worked very hard to regain her trust. He was still putting in the work to ensure that their relationship would last. He started leaving her little notes and still had flowers sent to her dressingroom every couple of shows. Gemma was forever grateful she decided to let him try. Decided to let herself try.

"I love you, gem,"

"I love you too," Gemma smiled, reaching up to craddle phils face in her hands. "So much more than I originally planned"

Phil smiled as he swooped down and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "So much ,my love, I love you so much." he lowered himself even more to bury his face against her neck. Her hands intantly made their way to his hair. He kissed the soft skin just to hear Gemma sigh.

Room 307:

Joe laid on his side so he could watch the women sleeping soundly beside him. The sun had risen and was shining in through the sheer white curtains. It's light casting everything in shades of gold.

She would be pissed if he let her sleep in much longer, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb her peace, not quite yet.

It was the last day of the tour. Tomorrow, he would be flying into Dublin. He would be going home. She would be flying home to London. They had talked it through, and he really believed they had a good shot. Still worry and doubt chewed away at him.

"It's rude to stare," Harper murmered, peering at Joe with half lidded eyes.

"Just admiring the finest of art," he grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

She hummed slightly, her eyes falling shut for a spilled second before snapping back open.

"Go back to sleep, angel," he purred, kissing her forehead. She smiled at him before nodding. He knew they would be all right. They all would.

Her eyes fell shut again, and her breath evened out. They would have to get up and start there a day soon, but not yet. They could remain in their shared peace just a little longer.

Room 310

Bex sat across from Rick, sipping her tea and watching the man carefully. He was wearing the hotel provided robe. His bangs fell into his eyes. He looked so content that she almost felt bad for what she was going to say. "This isn't going to last"

"I know," Rick returned, looking up from his cup of tea. His eyes were filled with understanding. "Is this where you tell me you had fun, but this is the end?"

"You're a great guy. I just don't do relationships"

Rick nodded, sipping at his tea. He finished his tea and stood up, finding his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. "See you tonight?"

Bex nodded, smiling slightly. The second he closed the door, her smile faded. It was the first time she ever really felt pain over a man in a long time.

Room 309

Rebel leaned back against the savs solid chest as the warm water flowed over them. "You know this is kind of a waste of water. We are just gonna shower again later, " Rebel smiled.

"Yeah, but it feels nice," sav returned.

Rebel hummed in agreement. She spun around, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His wet hair clung to her skin. "Gonna miss this"

"Yeah, but we'll figure something out." Sav smiled, leaning down and capturing her lips.

Rebel happily kissed back for a moment before epulling back and resting their foreheads together. "Think the others are this.... pensive?"

"Probably. The end of the tour is always a time of mixed emotions. This tour is especially hard. So much love has formed. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Mel and chris planned this"

Rebel giggled at that. The water was starting to turn cold, but she couldn't find it in her to care.

Mal sat across from chris in the hotel lobby, grinning at the other man. "We couldn't have had this go any better," He asked. "I mean, when you called me and said you knew of a band that would work well with my boys, I didn't think you meant this well. Steve's barely drinking anymore. They all aren't fighting nearly as much. They have someone else to look at other than each other."

Chris nodded his agreement. "Bex is starting to trust. Gemma finally found someone to match her energy. Amaya found someone to take care of other than Gemma. And let's be honest, they all are staying out of trouble because they are too busy with each other"

It's been a great tour, " Mel stated, standing up and shaking Chris's hand.

"It sure has," the other man agreed.

#def leppard #phil collen #joe elliott #steve clark #rick savage #rick allen #def leppard fan fiction #phil collen fan fiction #joe elliott fanfiction #rick savage fanfiction #rick allen fanfiction #steve clark fanfiction

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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months

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𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - when snow white (you) escapes into the woods to escape the queen's order to kill, she learns that not all strangers should be trusted.

warning - smut, swearing, choking, under a spell, dubcon, creampie, slight angst, death, breaking and entering, jealousy, oral sex, kidnapping/entrapment, attempted poisoning and murder, group sex, groping, dark content.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Queen sneers, staring at herself in the mirror. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall.” Her eyes squint, and her back straightens. “Who is the fairest of them all?” The answer she was expecting wasn’t what the mirror gave her.

“Y/n is the fairest of them all.” The Magic Mirror spoke, a live video of you playing before her, your sweet self hums to the animals, pulling a small bucket from the well, capturing the attention of the many people that pass by.

“What?!” She screams, and her face becomes red with anger. “No one is more fair than I! The Queen must have the best of everything. Everyone knows that. What could be more fair?”

“Y/n is the fairest of them all!” The Mirror repeats, not caring for the tantrum the Queen is throwing.

“What do you know? You’re a mirror!” She huffs, rolling her eyes and storming off. A plan sets in motion as she heads to where the huntsman rests, ordering him to take you out of the equation.

You had spent your time running through the woods, away from your horrid stepmother and the huntsman that she had sent after you. Your hands clutched your skirt, lifting it from the ground, and your bare feet dodged the many sticks and rocks. Your breath is heavy, and you can hear his footsteps catching up to you. “Little Snow! You can’t run from me! The Queen ordered me to kill you!” You gasp, picking up your pace, desperately trying to distance yourself from him.

You squeal and cry as your foot gets caught on a root sticking out of the ground. You fall forward, tumbling for a few seconds until you end up on your back. Fat tears cover your cheeks, your eyes are puffy, your hair is ruffled, and your once-beautiful dress is ruined, ripped and dirty. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as the huntsman appears in your vision, “P–please! You don’t have to do this! I–I won’t tell anyone if you let me go! Please!” You cry you beg, you plead. Your hands curl into the ground, crushing the dirt into your palms. You don’t notice the magic flowing through you and into the ground. You are so caught up in begging the man not to take your life.

He shakes his head. “I have to. I was given an order.” His head continues to shake, clutching the knife as he desperately doesn’t want to kill you. “If I return and the Queen finds out I didn’t obey, she’ll kill me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tears slip past, and your lips tremble. You nod, accepting your fate. You wouldn’t be able to escape this. “O–okay. If taking my life means you get to keep yours, okay.” You breathe in and out, a soft sob passing your lips. Your brows furrow as you are met with silence before a crunch and a groan follow it. You slowly peek your eyes open, wondering what caused the noise, and a shocked sob escapes you when you notice a giant black wolf on top of the huntsman. Yellow eyes stare back at you, and you feel oddly calm before standing on shaky legs. It’s as though the animal is giving you enough time to escape. “T–thank you.” You take off running again, the sky becoming dark as night falls, heading in the opposite direction of the castle.

You happen to stumble across a wooden cabin tucked away in the middle of nowhere. You rush forward, rapidly knocking on the door. “S–someone! Is anybody there?! I need help, please!” The door is pushed open from your knocks, and you cautiously enter as you receive no reply, looking around. “Hello?” When you don’t get a response, you decide to take a closer look. “Such a dirty place…” You think out loud, “Maybe if I clean up a bit, whoever lives here may help me.” You nod to yourself and walk over to a broom that rests against the wall and grab hold of it. You get swept away cleaning and then cooking before you slowly make your way upstairs, noticing seven large beds, making you wonder who lives here.

“I hope they won’t mind if I…” You ponder, going over to a bed that reads ‘CRANKY’ and sitting for what was supposed to be a second. The moment your body hits the mattress, your eyes flutter closed, and a deep slumber hits you with full force.

You wake to someone or something poking you. Your eyes flutter open, blinking as you notice many different men surrounding you. You gasp, scooting to the headboard, pulling your knees to your chest. “Oh, please don’t kill me! I–I promise I didn’t do anything wrong!” Your bottom lip wobbles and your gaze shoots between theirs frantically, wondering if the Queen also sent them.

A man with blue eyes and his hair in a man bun scoffs. He crosses his arms over his chest, and your eyes land on one of them being shiny. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my bed?” A growl practically escapes his lips, and his eyes scan your body with a lick of his lips.

You gasp, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I–” You're cut off as you try to get out, but a larger man stops you. His light blue eyes and blonde hair cause your breath to catch in your throat.

He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Don’t listen to him, ma’am. We are just startled, is all.” He turns his head, glaring at his best friend before looking back down at you. “Now, why don’t you introduce your pretty self and explain why you think we would kill you?” He sits at the end of the bed, resting a comforting hand on your leg.

“Oh, I do apologise. Where are my manners? My name is Y/n, but I am more known as Snow White.” The men are shocked, wondering what the princess is doing in their cabin. “The Queen is trying to have me killed, and I don’t know why. S–she sent the huntsman out, and he chased me through the woods until I was able to escape, and that is how I stumbled across your home.”

A throat clears, and you turn your head to look at another man who’s built like a bear, with pretty blue eyes and blackish hair. “She wouldn’t be trying to kill you for no reason. Tell us what you really did. You can’t really be that innocent.”

“I–I swear–” The man touching your leg interrupts you, giving you a soft look.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. I can see that you are innocent. I mean.” He looks around at the men with his brows raised. “What innocent person would break into someone’s home and decide to clean and cook? The breaking in part obviously doesn’t sound great, but look at her. She needs help.”

The man with the blackish hair speaks again while nodding. “You’re right. I apologise. We’ve been rude and haven’t introduced ourselves. My name is Clark, but these bastards call me Bossy.”

The man touching your leg smiles. “And I’m Steve, better known as Brawny.” He points to the man with a permanent scowl on his face. “That’s Bucky. We call him Cranky, though.” Bucky rolls his eyes, wondering why the hell they haven’t moved you from his bed yet. Though, he has been having a great time imagining you tied to it while he pleasures you.

Another man with a flirty smile leans against the bed, coming close to your face. “I’m Johnny, yet these guys call me Sleazy. No idea why. I would’ve said Flirty.” Johnny wiggles his brows, loving the shy look that crosses your face.

A man with a beanie and dirty face and hands nods. “I’m Curtis, known as Dirty around these wankers.”

Your eyes land on a man drinking what seems to be alcohol, and his eyes are half-lidded as he stares at you. “I’m Dean or Tipsy. Whatever you prefer, but I’m hoping to make you scream one of them later.” Your eyes widen.

Your attention is pulled away from Dean or Tipsy to a darker man touching your arm, looking at you with a smirk. “I’m Sam, baby. But you can call me Horny.” You blink, stunned, never having heard such words come out of a person’s mouth before, but you know that you cannot judge as you did break into their home.

“O–oh, it’s nice to meet you all. Such interesting names.” You fold your hands in your lap and look around at each one of the men. “I would like to cook you, men, some dinner as a thank you for not kicking me out.” You watch as they nod, and you give a soft smile to Steve, who helps you off the bed. You head down the stairs, and all seven men follow behind, watching your hips sway beneath the dress. They sit, watching as you start to heat the food. It’s magical to them. You turn around, the food nearly ready. “Please go and wash up before dinner.”

“What? No.” Bucky growls, refusing to get up from the seat while the other men immediately stand and head out. Steve grabs hold of his best friend and drags him out, ignoring the shouts and yells. “Steve! Steve! Stop!”

You shake your head, turning back toward the pot, stirring it before you turn off the stove and grab hold of it, bringing it to the table and setting it down. “Dinner!” You watch as the door swings open, and the men walk back in with smiles, smelling clean. “Don’t you men look dashing!” They thank you before taking a seat, watching you with wide eyes as you fill their bowls with the delicious-smelling stew.

Clark tilts his head as you take the pot back to the sink, noticing that you didn’t make a bowl for yourself. “Are you not eating with us?” The other men stop with their spoons midair, looking between you and Clark. “Come, sit. You deserve to eat the food you cooked.” Clark pats his thigh, raising a brow when you don’t move. “I’m called Bossy for a reason. Now, sit.” You scurry over, taking a seat on his thigh, feeling a weird tingling sensation between your legs as you feel how thick his thighs are. “Good girl.” He nods to everyone, and you all begin to eat. Clark occasionally brings the spoon to your mouth, feeding the two of you.

During the night, you get to know all of the men, laughing and listening to stories. Steve stands, clearing his throat. “I hate to interrupt this wonderful evening, but we have work tomorrow., and I think it is best if we get some rest” The others agree, and you get up to bid them goodnight, practically tucking them into their beds and placing soft kisses onto their foreheads. You are about to head back downstairs, needing to find somewhere to rest, but Steve stops you. “Y/n, here.” You spin, heading over to him with furrowed brows, wondering what he is talking about. He pulls back the blanket and pats the space next to him.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude more than I have.” You gnaw on your bottom lip, feeling like you’ve been a bother. “I can find somewhere else to sleep. I saw a blanket downstairs.” Steve gives you a look that makes you quickly crawl into the bed, and your body shivers when you realise how cold you’ve been compared to the warm man. Your body curls into his larger one, sighing as sleep takes over you before you can even register.

You wake to birds chirping and the sun shining through, your eyes flutter open, and you stretch your arms above your head. You slowly pull Steve’s arm off of you and get out of bed, making your way downstairs, and you decide to prepare breakfast for the kind men. You cook eggs, bacon, pancakes, and a fruit platter, wanting to give them a filling meal for their big day. You smile and turn as you hear the men bound down the stairs, dressed for work with hunger in their eyes. “Good morning! I thought I’d make you guys some breakfast before you go. I hope you don’t mind.”

They smile, thanking you before sitting down. The same happens as the night before. Clark pulls you into his lap and feeds you some of his breakfast, ensuring you also get to eat. You stand once you finish, gathering the dishes and walking over to the sink, gently placing them down before walking to the door and handing the men their coats.

Clark is the first one to grab his coat, thanking you. “I hope you have a good day today.” You lean up, resting your hand on his muscular arm and kiss his cheek softly. Clark smirks, tipping his head before walking out the door.

Steve is next. Once his coat is on, he leans down for you to reach his cheek. “Thank you, Snow.” Steve turns his head and returns the favour, kissing your cheek and smiling as you become shy.

Bucky huffs, “Can we hurry this up? We have work to do if you haven’t noticed.” But everyone ignores him, and he watches with envy as you continue to give each man a kiss.

Curtis gently takes his jacket from your tiny hands, closing his eyes as he feels your soft lips on his cheek. A smile on your face, “Have a good day, sweetheart.”

Johnny walks up next, smirking at you and already leaning down. You give him a soft smile and lean forward, but he turns his head last second, and you gasp. “I–I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” You freak, staring wide-eyed at the happy man.

“Don’t worry bout it, Baby.” Johnny winks, giving your arse a smooth pinch before strolling out. You feel your body and cheeks heat up, eyes still wide as you watch him leave.

“Well damn. He did it before me.” Dean rolls his eyes, slapping your arse after you give him a kiss as well. “Doesn’t matter. Have a good day, Sugar.”

Sam pulls you close, tapping his cheek before resting his hands on your hips. He groans as you lean up and kiss his cheek softly. His hands move down and squeeze your cheeks, pulling you even closer. “Mmm, Snow. You make a man so feral.”

Once Sam leaves, it leaves the last man, the crankiest of the lot. Bucky grumbles, going to reach for his coat, but you pull back slightly and give him a pout. He rolls his eyes, bending slightly, and when you gently kiss his cheek, his whole face grows pink. “Whatever.” Bucky clears his throat and quickly leaves, leaving you in their cabin all by your lonesome, not prepared for what is to happen next.

You hum to yourself, beginning to clean the place. You don’t notice the magic swirling around you, calling the forest animals to the cabin, some even helping you clean. You wash the men’s clothes, and the birds hang them along the line. You are so lost in your own world that you don’t notice an older woman watching you from the shadows, a scowl on her face, but the older woman also doesn’t notice the large black wolf watching her.

You giggle, leaning over to pet the cute little bunny that hops in your direction before you walk inside the house. Your hands become busy as you begin to prepare another apple pie, continuing to hum to yourself. “Excuse me.” You turn, hearing a knock at the open window and someone talking. You smile softly, walking closer to the older woman. “I–I’m so sorry for bothering you. I am just a poor old woman trying her best to sell some delicious apples.”

You lean against the counter, peeking over the window sill and looking at the basket of apples. “That is perfect! I’m baking an apple pie and in need of some apples!” You give an innocent smile to the older woman.

She reaches her hand into the basket and grabs a big red apple that sits at the top. “Take a look at this big red apple.” She holds it up to your face, watching you stare at it in wonder at how perfect it looks. Your hands slowly reach up to touch it, but the woman jerks it back. “Lovely, isn’t it? But you cannot touch without a price.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, looking between the woman and the apple with furrowed brows. You desperately needed more apples to make the pie. It had to be perfect. “I need that apple… But I, uh, I don’t have any money.”

She thinks, knowing that this apple contains something horrible. The Queen realised there was no point in a price when she would finally have you dead. That was good enough. “Oh, my dear. No need to worry for a first-time customer. I will let you have this apple for free.” You look at her, shocked, cupping the apple as she hands it to you. She watches you, desperately wanting you to take a bite out of it in front of her, but she doesn’t get her hopes up.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! How can I ever repay you? You are so kind. Please let me give you something!” You go over and grab a plate of freshly baked biscuits, heading back over to her. She tries to refuse, but you persist. “Oh please, It wouldn’t feel right if I were to take this for free. Please take as many as you want.”

“Okay, thank you. That is kind of you, my dear.” The older woman takes one, bidding you goodbye before disappearing into the shadows again, wanting to watch what unfolds. Her eyes widen as she watches you begin to cut the apple, mixing it into the mixture of the pie. She thought the call of the apple would cause you not to resist a taste. “Oh, no, no, no! This won’t end well. You stupid girl, you should’ve eaten the apple yourself.” She huffs, stomping her foot. “The poison only works for those it is intended for… If she serves it to others, it can have side effects, and I do not need that in my hands.” She growls to herself, knowing that she will have to put a stop to this or kill more people than intended.

Before the Queen can return to the cabin, she is met with the giant black wolf. Its teeth bared as it growled. She scoffs, waving it off. “Be a good puppy and leave. You can’t destroy the Queen.” Her eyes widen as your hums begin again as you place the pie in the oven, and she realises that you are the one controlling the animals, even if you don’t know you are. In the moment of shock, the wolf lunges, and your sweet melodies drown out her screams.

You are happy with how the pie has turned out, placing it on the window sill to cool down. You wait patiently for the men to return home, sitting curled up in a chair with a book between your hands. You’ve made the house more into a home, having gone out and picked some pretty flowers to put in a vase, gathering some wood for the fireplace, and keeping the food warm for when they walk through the door, their clothes all folded neatly. You stand when you hear them, their voices carrying through the air.

Clark opens the door with a smile, “Hello, Little Snow. I notice that you’ve been busy.” He moves past you, brushing his hand across your hip as he moves to the pot, smelling the delicious scent.

The rest of the men enter, Steve, being the second after taking his shoes off and giving you a large grin. “Snow! Did you have a good day?” You nod, giggling as he brings you into a hug. He lets go of you and walks over to the pot also, not used to coming home to dinner already prepared.

“Sugar!” Johnny enters, pulling you into him immediately by gripping your arse in his large hands, causing a squeak to fall from your lips. “You look so good. I could just eat you up.” He grumbles when Dean and Sam push him to the side. “The hell?”

“You're hogging her,” Dean grunts, pulling you against him, and your eyes widen when you feel him grope you so freely. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re so tiny.” He blinks down at you, and you get a whiff of the alcohol already on his breath.

Sam grows annoyed, pushes Dean out of his way and pulls you against him also. “Don’t hog Snow here. I want some too.” His large hands grip your arse, rubbing his bulge against you, groaning softly. “How you doing, baby?”

Curtis and Bucky stand near the entrance, watching everything unfold. You smile softly at Sam as you let go, walking over to the two men and ignoring the shocked gasp they let out as you pull them into a hug, greeting them with your kindness. “Come, sit. Dinner’s ready, and I’ve made a pie for dessert!” You skip over, waiting for them all to take their seats before you grab the pot and serve the food. Dinner goes well, and it’s finally time for them to taste your sweet pie. You walk over to the pie, carefully picking it up before bringing it to the table and serving them a slice each. “I hope you guys enjoy.”

The moment the pie hits their tongues, the magic begins to flow through everything and everyone, eyes turning a bright pink for a split second before they let out soft groans from the flavour that explodes on their tastebuds. You don’t notice anything that has happened. You are too happy to see that they enjoyed your baking.

The atmosphere in the room has changed. Every single man in the room felt their heartbeat quicken and their breathing become heavier. Their eyes are half-lidded, and their members harden, growing rapidly in their pants. It seems their gaze is set on you, eyes darkening as they look you up and down, slowly getting out of their chairs and surrounding you.

“That was a great pie, Little Snow,” Clark growls, getting closer. “But I want to taste something a little bit sweeter.” You squeal as Steve and Bucky hold you, ensuring you can’t move as Clark kneels, lifting your dress and letting out a thick groan when he realises you haven’t been wearing anything underneath, your folds slick with your juices. “Aren’t you a dirty little girl? Wearing nothing while staying with a bunch of men.” You moan as he surges forward, licking from your hole to your swollen button. “Fuck, she tastes so much better than that pie.” Your walls clench when Clark moves close again, gripping your thighs as he nuzzles his face into your soaking cunt, licking and sucking.

You whine as Steve grips your chin, turning you to face him and locking his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Bucky groans. The hand that isn’t gripping you moves to your plump breasts and squeezes and fondles them. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Clark begins to suck on your swollen clit. You whimper into Steve’s mouth before gasping as a finger softly pokes against your entrance, breaching into it with a slow thrust. Your head falls back onto Steve and Bucky’’s shoulders, not noticing the other men rubbing their bulges through their pants, watching the scene before them with dark eyes.

A choked whine escapes you when Clark curls his fingers while Bucky and Steve suck on your hardened nipples, swirling their tongues around. Your back arches, hands gripping their shirts as your vision becomes white and your juices flow out of your sopping cunt, covering Clark’s smirking face. “Fuck, Little Snow. You taste even more divine.” He curls his fingers in, happily watching how you twitch, your arousal still flowing out. “Men, clear the table. We are in need of a different kind of dessert.” He commands, standing to his full height and stepping aside.

Steve and Bucky pull you toward the table, carefully setting you down and stepping back. All of the men stand and admire how beautifully blissed out you look. Johnny stumbles forward, his hardened member already hanging out of his pants, and you gasp as your gaze falls upon it. “T–that won’t fit…” You begin to shake your head as he slips between your spread legs, pulling you flush against him.

Johnny smirks, tapping your cheek. “Dumb little sugar. I’ll make it fit. You’re so fucking wet. I’ll slide in so easily.” He reaches down and grips his throbbing base, tapping his leaking tip against your swollen clit before lining up against your entrance. Johnny groans when he pushes in, gasping at how tight you are around him. “Oh god! You feel so good, Sugar.” His hands grip your hips, slowly pulling out before thrusting into you harder. A grin forms on his face at how your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out a sob as his tip hits your sweet spot.

You are suddenly lifted, and your eyes widen when you feel something poking your already stretched hole. Your head turns slightly, and you notice Sam giving you a cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, Snow. I’m just gonna join in on the fun.” You gasp when he slowly begins to push in, stretching you even more alongside Johnny. Sam’s head falls back, and he groans, “Holy fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” His grip tightens on your hips, and the thrusting begins between the two men. When one pushes in, the other pulls out, and your screams fill the cabin. Johnny pulls you into a deep kiss while Sam grips your hips and pounds hard into you. “Oh man, can you feel how tight she is?”

Johnny nods, groaning. “Fuck yes! I don’t think I’m going to last long!” His pace picks up, slamming harder and faster into you before he buries his face into your neck as thick amounts of cum spurt out of his angry tip. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Johnny slips out of your stretched hole, sagging into a chair as Sam pulls you down, pounding into you from behind, thrusting Johnny’s cum deeper into you. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sam slams into your sweet spot, causing your walls to clench around his thick member and your juices to squirt out of you.

“Good little princess,” Sam growls into your ear, slamming his cock harder into you before burying inside of you, releasing his cum deep into you. “Fuck.” Sam moves back, the magic draining out of him, and he sags next to Johnny, their eyes fluttering closed.

You squeal when you feel someone grabbing the back of your head before you start gagging as Curtis shoves his thick member into your mouth, thrusting in and out. “Jesus.” His head falls back, and his eyes half-lidded. “You’re mouth is so warm.” His hands hold your head, and he pulls out slowly before thrusting in again. You moan around him, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip before starting to suck, loving the salty taste that lands on your tastebuds.

Dean smirks, gripping his throbbing member and tapping his angry tip against your used folds. He lifts your hips before sliding in, groaning at how tight you feel wrapped around him. “Damn, sweetheart. How are you still so fucking tight? You were just stretched by two cocks.” He begins to set his pace, pounding into you, pushing you to choke on Curtis’s cock. “Go on, sweetheart. Choke on his cock.” He groans, fucking into you faster. His tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot, loving how you feel as you squeeze his cock. “Shit! I’m so fucking close!”

While Dean is busy chasing his orgasm, Curtis holds your head down and thrusts into your throat. His head rolls back as you moan around his member. “Such a sweet mouth for a sweet woman.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks, gagging around him, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when Dean fills you, setting off your orgasm, causing your arousal to coat him, and the vibrations from your moans cause Curtis to groan and release deep into your mouth, gripping your chin until you swallow and show him. “Good girl.”

You whine as both men pull out and watch through blurry eyes as they also sag into the chairs. Your head flops down onto the hardwood table, breathing heavily. “Do you think we are done with you, Doll?” Bucky steps up, a pink swirl in his eyes as he peers down at your used form. “There’s still three of us.” You gasp when he picks you up, wrapping your legs loosely around his hips while lining his tip with your entrance. Steve steps behind you, and his hand strokes his cock up and down. Your eyes roll back, and your head flops onto Steve’s shoulder as Bucky pushes in. A loud whine escapes you when Steve follows suit, slipping his giant cock through your tiny hole.

Both men begin to take turns pounding in and out of you. Clark steps forward and grips your chin, turning your head to capture your lips with his. “Who knew Snow White was secretly a whore. You like being used by seven men, honey?” You moan, nodding and clutching onto whoever you can. Clark grips your throat softly, making your dazed eyes look at him. “Of course you do. Only a little whore like you would like being used. No wonder the Queen wanted to get rid of you.” He moves closer, smirking as Steve and Bucky pick up their pace, causing your mind to go fuzzy. “She couldn’t have any competition because you’d end up stealing the attention of men away from her.” You nod along, barely hearing anything that leaves his mouth, too focused on the intense pleasure coming from between your legs.

Steve presses forward, his hands kneading your breasts as he buries himself deeper inside you. “You feel so good, Snow.” He begins to kiss your collarbone and shoulders, groaning as you tighten around him. He picks up his pace, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch, a loud groan escapes him as cum spurts out of him, filling you to the brim. “Fuck…” He pulls out, sagging into a chair, his eyes falling closed.

Bucky moves you, pushing you against a wall and pounding hard into you. “Fuck, take my fucking cock.” He grunts, bouncing you against his thrusts, filling you repeatedly. “You better take my fucking cum, slut. It’s what you are made for.” His metal hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, feeling his cock throb when your eyes widen and your walls spasm, squeezing the life out of his cock. “Oh, what a dirty little slut you are. Who would’ve known you liked being choked.” Bucky smirks before he grunts, burying himself deep inside you and releasing large amounts of cum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The moment he pulls out, his body does the same as the others, and before you can fall, Clark catches you and gives you a dark smile.

“Oh, poor Little Snow. You should’ve chosen another cabin.” Your eyes widen when his eyes flash, and his cock fills you immediately. Even though the Queen was dead, it didn’t mean her minions died along with her. They just now had a mind of their own, a darker, more twisted mind. Your moans and screams echo outside the cabin. Clark’s member was bigger than the others, practically splitting you open. He growls, gripping your throat tightly. “You better find a way to wake the others when I’m done with you because you are ours now.” You are suddenly bent over the table, surrounded by the sleeping men, your nails dig into the wood, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as Clark slams deep into you.

Your vision goes white as he repeatedly hits your sweet spot. Your juices squirt out and cover him and everything around. Your head hits the table as he continues before filling you with his cum, mixing with the others. You barely have time to register Clark’s body dropping as the magic leaves him. You shakingly stand, your legs wobbling, and you grip the table beneath as you look around and take in the sleeping bodies, or so you thought. You stumble over to the closet man, which happens to be Steve and feel his pulse.

Your eyes widen, and your body drops as a wail escapes you, magic exploding from your body as you release every emotion you’ve been keeping in. Your eyes begin to close, and the last thing you hear is the men coming back to life, their hands grabbing you and bringing you upstairs.

Come morning. You would learn never to trust strangers.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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darkdarkstucky · 1 year

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Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

CHAPTER THREE

“Wake up, buttercup!” Natasha cheerily exclaims, clapping her hands together after successfully pulling back the curtains to let the sunshine in your desolate quarters. You groaned sleepily turning your head towards the other direction, until she peeled the covers back from you.

“Uh-uh, we are not letting you sleep in the bed for days on end again.” the red head tuts, pulling your limp arm and ushering you towards a seating position. “Today, we're going out and walking on sunshine vampy.”

“No. Let me wallow in doubt and sadness.” you whine, eyes shut. You were still in dreamland, nestled in the covers with the ac on full blast— and you could literally spend days in the bed it feels like. You were always so sleepy and tired.

Part of you blamed it on over-thinking. Your brain must have been fueling up for all of your racing thoughts. Or it was only during sleep that you weren't thinking anything.

“Can't. The sun is up and the day is to be conquered. Where's your fucking spirit?”

“Oh wait! I remember where i left it, let me check.” you wiggled, making her hold loosen before you dived back into the sheets.

Comfy. So so nice.. you rub your face in Clark's pillow, sighing out in bliss. Just as you were about to doze off again..

“Nat!” you bellow, feeling yourself get lifted off the bed and towards the en suite.

“We're going out and fucking things up dollface! No excuses!”

☁️

“I feel like richard gere and you're my bitch- well, technically not one, but you get my point.” Nat nonchalantly puts down the menu, staring at you from across the table.

There was an astounding array of shopping bags placed neatly along the floor, both of you going haywire on different shops and swiping daddy's plastics, and only when you calmed down did you realize how much clothes you bought.

You'd feel bad, yet both Steve and Clark had gaslighted you early on that it isn't real money princess. So you went on your merry way each time and thought as if you were only playing pretend.

“Why can't i be a bitch?” you mutter, inbetween bites of garlic bread, basically inhaling the small tray of decadent pastry. It was crunchy, and soft on the inside with hints of melted cheese. Ohmy, you wanted to gobble it up.

Nat looked at you as if you were stupid. “Because.. you're rainbows, and butterflies and shiny shimmering glitter.”

You made a face, “You're saying i'm made of nice things? Aww, naty.”

“Yes, and if i put you in my mouth, you'll melt like a cotton candy.” she flippantly voices, which made both of you stare at eachother— silent and intent gazes, before bursting into laughter. Giggling at the unknown double entrede.

“Hello, madamme.” Your head snaps towards a slightly familiar older man decked in a pristine suit, an easy yet flattering grin on his face. “How are you finding your lunch? Has anyone taken your order yet?”

“Oh, hey ben. It's pleasant, as it always is. We've actually just placed our orders,” You smile in response.

“Oh that's great! and you're here with Mrs. Barnes, i see.” He politely nods to the red head. “Will you be joining Mr. Kent at the second floor? He's got an entourage, but i doubt it's concerning business. It appears to be more casual.”

“Is that so? I mean, Clark did say something about a lunch. Who's he with?” Your mouth moves faster than you could think.

In reality, the only thing you've recieved from both of them were casual goodmornings and update as to where they were. Steve was in France, Clark said he was in Russia. Atleast, that was what they told you.

“The usual, madamme. A couple of security details, and a new secretary. She seems to be new, atleast from who Mr. Kent usually keeps in his payroll.” The host narrates, thinking nothing of it. Everyone was already well aware of how much you meant to your husbands— to the point where nobody would bat an eye if they were seen out with another woman. Nobody could possibly believe they would replace you.

And you hated to jump into conclusions, but why would he need to lie?

Your heart wanted to lurch out of your chest. Nat's clearing of her throat made you snap out of your spiral; and you schooled your features back into a cheery expression once again.

“Well, if Mr. Kent wouldn't mind our presence.”

☁️

“.. I was actually a scholar of Kent foundation. Can you believe it? Our fates, so intertwined. It was really as if we were meant to be.” Lois gushes, leaning over in her chair, looking at him as if she were about to jump his bones.

Frankly, it made him quite uncomfortable. Nothing about this - if you could even call it a date, it was more like a formal gathering or a meet of sorts that he was inclined to arrange- felt natural, nor right.

Clark wanted to rely on his base instincts for direction but he couldn't grope for a shred of connection. Not even a silver of fondness, which is strange, considering thag they were supposed to be compatible— the person oppsite of him bore the genetic compatibility, as per several tests.

Though, what she said piqued his interest. “Which part of town would you say?”

“Upper east side,” Lois responds. Clark shifted in his seat, a smile making it's way to his features which held a considerable sway in her judgement. He asks a few more questions in that honeyed voice of his, to which she absently replied at.

“Huh, would you look at that.” He leans back in his seat, gears in his head turning but he maintained an easy smile on his face, mirth dancing in the darkened blue of his eyes.

“How about i permanently move your residence in, say, one of my towers?” Lois' breath hitched at the proposal.

“I-i mean, sure if that's what you want.” she gathered herself for a while, before remembering to act bashful and blinking up at him rapidly, smiling coyly. “I'm yours afterall. Your mate.”

You can hear the jeers and the laughter, staying through the conversation, until you found yourself feeling literal pangs of hurt in your chest. Fuck. What does all of this mean?

“Let me kill this son of a whore,” Nat was about to angrily storm inside, but you managed to stop her, putting an arm out.

“Don't even bother.” you murmur, finding it hard to find your own voice. At that point, you felt almost numb— as if your brain was shutting down from what you've heard, finding it difficult to process at all.

You woke up with the hope of your marriage still intact. Thinking, rather stupidly, that this was just a rather difficult hurdle in your marriage. Thinking that perhaps, this was all just a big misunderstanding like what you were repeatedly assured of.

But this was beyond even your wildest dreams. Nothing made sense. It was as if your world was crashing down on you all at once. True mates? It mocks you repeatedly.

Steve and Clark told you that you were the one. You believed them, because why would they lie to you? They had no reason to!

To get in your pants, silly. The rational, or was it pessimistic part of you said.

You blinked away the tears, turning around, and indulging in the manical urge that clouded all your rationality— run.

So you fled.

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

No Such Thing As Stupid Question

This one is for you, Anna! @unclewaynemunson! Congratulations on your academic progress, I'm so proud of you!

Also on Ao3 for your convenience :)

As someone who showed as little interest in romance as possible, Wayne Munson didn't really expect to be come a parental figure. Maybe he'd get a dog when he retired, some older mutt from a shelter, and they'd sit in front of the trailer in quiet company, perhaps a bark here and there as Wayne sipped his beer. Wayne could imagine that. But a kid, never.

But of course, life had a peculiar sense of humor and his younger brother hit a new low - sadly admirable, given that he was already at the very bottom, but someone brought a shovel with him. Grand theft auto, petty crimes all over, domestic disputes (to put it mildly)...Wayne breathed a sigh of relief when he found out he got locked up before he escalated even further. He didn't want to believe Danny had it in him to seriously hurt someone, but given the right or wrong circumstances, he couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be a casualty like a random witness, someone trying to protect their property...yeah, Danny was definitely better off where he ended up.

As for his son Eddie...Wayne couldn't guarantee the same, even though he vowed to try his damn hardest.

Eddie was a scrawny kid with an ugly buzz cut and dark eyes so large he seemed afraid of anything and everything. When Wayne met with the social worker and they talked over coffee, Wayne couldn't help but notice how Eddie grasped his milkshake, as if someone would take it from him the very next second. His twitchy fingers wrapped around the glass in a vice-like grip and even though Wayne was convinced he was listening to every word said, he kept stubbornly staring into the drink, refusing to meet anyone's eye. And even though the kid was barely in middle school, Wayne found the rigid focus all too familiar, painfully so. It was the first time he found himself truly and purely hating Danny, feeling a burning coal in his chest at what his so-called upbringing did to this boy.

In the end, Eddie was sent to live with him, only a bag with clothes too big, a few trinkets and a single book, worn from constant reading. The Hobbit.

The first day, the now joint Munson household was quiet. Eddie was chewing on an improvised pasta Wayne had made - on his own, thank you for asking, with all three ingredients - and looking anywhere but at his uncle. And Wayne was a quiet man himself so sure, they could stay in silence until Eddie graduated and moved somewhere else, but there was a part of Wayne that didn't want this for Eddie. He wanted at least one Munson to turn out alright.

"Hope it's edible. I...don't cook much," he tried, swallowing a lump of poorly mixed spices.

Eddie's eyes were fixed to his plate. He nodded, the movement almost indiscernible, and then returned to his pasta.

So Wayne tried again. "I saw that book you have," he mentioned and boy, was that a wrong move. Eddie almost curled into himself, his eyes darting to Wayne for the first time - but not with curiosity. With defiance and fear.

He didn't say anything, only stared at Wayne. As if he was daring him to say something, do something.

So Wayne did. "It looked interesting. The Hobbit? I've never heard of it. Is it any good?"

The slight relaxation in Eddie's shoulders seemed promising. "It's my favorite," he said, his eyes returning to the pasta, stabbing a few offending pieces with his fork. "It has an adventure in it. An unexpected one."

Wayne huffed a quiet laugh under his breath. "Ah. So somethin' like this?"

Eddie looked at him again with those large dark eyes. "...yeah."

And then it was quiet again, but this was less forced, less tense. Wayne thought that maybe this was how Eddie would be normally, a withdrawn soul just like himself, but just as he chewed on the last mouthful of less than ideally cooked pasta, Eddie broke the silence.

"Why'd you take me in?" Eddie blurted out and seemed to regret it immediately, biting in to his own lip. "It's...it's not like you knew me before and you could have refused, I...I would understand that. I think. But you agreed to let me stay and I'm grateful and all, but...I just don't get it. Why?" Pausing for a moment, he added "sorry if that's a stupid question. I just want to understand."

It might have taken Wayne a second longer than ideal to answer, but he didn't want to spit ketchup on the poor boy who already seemed flustered enough. He held his finger up and quickly washed down the food with a gulp of soda. "First rule of this house, son," he said and smiled at Eddie, actually smiled, although his facial muscles protested. "Ain't no such thing as stupid questions. Anything you want to ask, just ask. And if I know the answer, I will give it. Understood?"

Eddie was maintaining eye contact now and he nodded eagerly. Almost too eagerly. It made Wayne reconsider in that very second, because this wasn't a withdrawn soul like he'd suspected - this was a boy who wanted to open up to someone so, so badly. "Yes," he muttered and Wayne couldn't help himself, he reached out, slowly, and ruffled whatever hair remained on Eddie's head. And Eddie didn't move away, just watched his hand like a hawk and, when he ensured he wasn't in any danger, even leaned into it, giving Wayne a small smile.

Returning to his side of the table, Wayne leaned in. "Why'd I take you in? I could give you a bunch of reasons, none would fully cover it. Obligation, sure. You're family, that's another thing. But most of all, I just..." He trailed off, finding the correct words, the truthful words. Throughout all of it, Eddie was watching him, waiting. "I guess I just want to give you something better, Eddie. Danny and I, we didn't have the best family, not sure how much he told you. And there ain't much we can do to fix ourselves, but I look at you and I think...maybe I can make a difference right here. Because you seem like a bright kid to me and I just...I just want to do right by you. Even if I'm the only one."

Eddie swallowed thickly, fidgeting. "And...and if I turn out like him?" he mumbled, struggling to keep the eye contact. "What if you...you do that, but I still fail?"

Damn, Wayne Munson did not cry, but the fear, the insecurity in Eddie's voice tugged at something in his chest. He reached over again and grasped Eddie's bony shoulder. "Then you'll still have home here for as long as you want. All I want from you is to give it your best shot. That work for you?"

The boy smiled at him and nodded, wiping at his eyes. "Yeah."

"Good." They were grinning at each other over dirty plates, the smell of ketchup and cheap soda between them. "And I meant what I said. Anythin' you want to ask, go for it. No question is a stupid question."

Eddie smirked at him and Wayne might have detected a glint of mischief in his eyes. He thought he'd bend over backwards to keep it there, to give this frightened kid a bit of childhood back. "Anything, huh?" he asked.

"Yup. But count on me askin' a lot of stuff too. Like," he paused, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

It was ridiculous. But Wayne remembered what the doctors told him when he returned from Vietnam - sometimes to get moving, you need something unexpected, something to confuse the anxiety right out of your brain. So he dug deep and hard into his imaginative side and pointed at Eddie. "What is the single superior animal noise? No long thinking, go."

Eddie blinked at him, once, twice, and then he burst out laughing. He kicked his knee into the table and the dishes rattled around, but he couldn't stop himself. He was wheezing, grasping the side of the table and trying to breathe. And if that didn't make Wayne's heart swell. "You...you looked so serious!" gasped Eddie between snorts and giggles.

"It's a serious question. Now, Eddie, what's your answer?" Wayne tried to keep his face under control, but Eddie's grin was contagious.

The boy cleared his throat and leaned forwards, brow furrowing in concentration. "So many fine choices," he said in a contemplative voice that made Wayne nearly choke on his soda because it sounded like a poor imitation of a British TV celebrity. "I have to go with ribbit. Unique and well-balanced." Glancing at Wayne, he shot back. "The soup to beat all the soups!"

Wayne smirked and crossed his arms. "That's an easy one. Bean soup. And before you ask - not from a can."

"Knew it."

It gradually becomes their thing.

Whenever Eddie is lost in thought, when he comes back from school with a new bruise, Wayne shoots a ridiculous question at him, what is the best race in the Middle Earth for a basketball tournament, what is the ideal number of dried peas to have in your kitchen, and Eddie's smile is back, as radiant as ever.

When Wayne returns from the plant, grumbling about the stupid idiots from the previous shift making his job harder, he finds Eddie bouncing on his feet, waiting for him to come home to ask what is the ideal sole color for running shoes. "Not the shoe color, the sole, Wayne, what is the sole color that makes you just want to run? No thinking, go!"

Even years after Eddie's hair has grown into the thick wavy locks that Wayne isn't envious of, nope, not at all, they still randomly yell questions at each other across the trailer. Eddie hollers "WHAT'S THE FUNNIEST FRUIT IN THE WHOLE WORLD WAYNE?!" and Wayne shouts back "IT'S PEACH BECAUSE IT'S STUPIDLY HAIRY JUST LIKE A CERTAIN NEPHEW OF MINE AND STOP YELLING, BOY!". Wayne asks between quiet puffs of smoke outside "if you had to wear a hat for the rest of your life, what hat would that be?" and Eddie blows out a circle and snickers "a top hat." There's a joke there and Wayne smiles to himself, wondering if he should acknowledge it.

And eventually, when his boy is returned to him after the hell that was March of 1986, when Eddie slowly heals and the Harrington boy doesn't leave his side, Wayne has the perfect question but he bides his time, watching the two fools dance around each other like the foolish fools they are (has he mentioned they are fools? Because they absolutely are). He's hoping he won't need to ask the question, maybe it will be enough to just wait, but nope, he's had enough. Life is too short for people like him and Eddie. So he grabs a couple of beers, drags Eddie to the porch of their government-funded house and after a couple of cans, starts their favorite pasttime.

"What's the best pink thing to ever exist?"

"Plastic flamingos," responds Eddie and sips his beer. "The one piece of clothing humanity should have never invented?"

"Ties, who's supposed to learn to tie that thing...the best cat name?"

"Household or wild?"

"Wild."

"Fluffles. Imagine being eaten by that in the woods. You'd never live it down, even after dying. The most humiliating job ever?"

"TV weather guy. Must suck to be wrong all the time." He doesn't even pause, just continues in the disinterested, flat tone they always use for their late night rounds of no-stupid-question. "The best place to take Steve for a date?"

"Somewhere calm, I think a picnic, he doesn't do well with a lot of loud noises or people," replies Eddie immediately. He sips his beer and freezes, mid-gulp, when his mind finally catches up with his mouth.

Wayne just pats his shoulder reassuringly. "Sounds like a great plan to me." When Eddie doesn't answer or move, he adds "swallow, boy."

Eddie pours the rest of his beer into his mouth and chuckles at Wayne, breathless. "That sounds more like a second date idea. Uh, shit. Sorry. I mean..."

"I'll pretend I stopped listening at the picnic," says Wayne, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his sternness. "Just stay safe, Eddie. But if I have to keep watchin' you and that pretty boy dance around each other for a week longer, I swear I'll have you two sit down and talk it out, kindergarten style. So you'd better ask him out before I give him the talk."

With the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie nodding, grasping the can for support. "Will do. Just...are you..." He bites his lip, turns to Wayne. "Does this change anything?"

"I sure hope it does!" Wayne flicks the ash off his cigarette. "For one, I'd expect your room to be much cleaner when you get a boyfriend."

They're both chuckling now, clinking their empty beer cans together. "Smart ass," says Eddie but it has no bite, no venom. "Thank you, dad," he says quietly, and Wayne can't help himself, he throws his arm over Eddie's shoulders and pulls him into a very uncomfortable sideways hug. It's the best hug in his life.

When Eddie throws open the door the next Friday and hollers "WHAT IS THE BEST CHAPSTICK FLAVOR FOR KISSING?" and Wayne answers, he gets corrected for the first time. "Wrong," says Eddie and wipes at his mouth, still grinning wildly. "It's cherry."

And Wayne gets proven right once more when, not even a year later, after rebuilding of Hawkins, practically adopting Steve into their small weird family, Eddie proves to him that he's not just scarily observant, but he learns the worst tricks in the book.

Because sure, Wayne might have buried his own needs and desires so deep they're practically at the Earth's core, but then there was a sympathetic man close to his age, maybe a bit younger, who approached Wayne and told him he's so happy for him that Eddie is back, that he taught Eddie in middle school and he never believed a single word about his involvement because that boy is incapable of harming anyone, that's what he said. And he invited Wayne for a beer because some people were still treating the name Munson as the plague itself and Wayne might be finding himself looking at Eddie and Steve, wishing that he was younger, he had more courage...

So he's still mostly lost in those thoughts when Eddie starts pestering him during one of Steve's shifts, meaning they're home alone and bored. It's late July, they're both sitting on the porch, sipping beer again, and Wayne has already answered questions about the mug to end all mugs, whether soccer would be more fun to watch with human-sized insects and who is the single person from all Hawkins to be sent to Mars to never return. And then Eddie asks "what's the best movie to take Scott Clarke for the first date?" and Wayne's brain short circuits.

When he comes to, Eddie is smirking at him sympathetically, offering him a new can of beer because Wayne dropped the old one. "Come on, did you think I wouldn't notice?" he asks and nudges his shoulder. "I can sense the "desperately in love" Munson eyes from a mile away. I've got them patented, you know. So. Your answer?"

Wayne coughs and stammers out that it would have to be something smart because Scott is smart. And that he isn't smart enough to figure out what he'd like, so it's not really a good question...

But Eddie just shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, producing two tickets to the Hawkins movie theatre. "Wrong, Wayne. Or not completely. Mr. Clarke - Scott, shit, that's difficult to get used to, he loves smart things, but he's also a massive nerd, as our lady Applejack loves to call him and everyone within a certain interest group. And I happen to know there's something called RoboCop playing tomorrow. I also happen to have two tickets right here, to know that Scott is free and that he'll be waiting for you 15 minutes before the movie starts."

Wayne gapes at him, mouth hanging open and speechless for the first time in his life. His eyes are traveling between the tickets and Eddie's smile while he's desperately trying to stomp out the flames of hope in his heart. "But...but what if he doesn't see me like that?" he asks and he hates how small and insecure he sounds, but Eddie needs to understand that things are different for people like him, for his age, his...whole person.

His nephew - no, son - throws his head back and laughs into the setting sun. "Look at that," he grins and shoves the two tickets into Wayne's hand. "That has to be the first stupid question I've ever heard from you. Let's see..." he taps on his chin, pretending to think. "Ask me again tomorrow after the movie, okay? If you still need to ask."

The next evening, Eddie leans next to the door when Wayne returns from the movie. "So..." he drawls, raising his eyebrows. "Do you still need me to answer?"

And Wayne huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Nah, no more stupid questions in this household."

#steddie fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #academic fairy godmother Aneta #clarkson #wayne munson #scott clarke #steddie drabble #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist · 8 months

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🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

Reader inserts will have no descriptors, OFCs will be black and plus-sized(unless otherwise stated). I love being able to give girls/femmes who look like me the chance to romance some of their faves.

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

I love to write fanfiction. Right now, my main muse is Henry Cavill. But I also like some Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters (see below who I will write for - send prompts or requests to @ellethespaceunicorn HERE).

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

Don't Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

Summary: Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director's Cut] {DARKER FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Don't Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC

Summary: At a New Year's Eve party, Ransom Drysdale's life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach.

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Summary: This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

Lloyd Hansen - What happens when reader starts dressing to match lloyd?

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz, so far only these categories 😁 Let me know if you ever want to be removed!

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

~Please DON'T ask me to tag you in a series that you've never 'liked' or 'reblogged'. It's just kind of rude. Also, don't ask for an ETA on the next chapter.~

*Blog Header, Cover Art for fics, Masterlist Header/MDNI 18+ Banner, Support/Reblog banner and Masterlist Dividers made by me in Canva*

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imagines--galore · 6 months

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Dear Readers,

Whenever I’m feeling down I go back and read all the lovely comments that you leave on my fics and honestly they make me glad that I exist. So, from the bottom of my heart and the furthest reaches of my soul - thank you. Thank you so so much.

Sincerely,

An Amateur Writer

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pyromaniac9 · 5 months

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steve clark and phil collen ❣️

#def leppard #steve clark #phil collen #the terror twins #steve x phil #steve clark x phil collen #r i p steve clark #cute british men #hot british men #sexy british men #fanfiction #fanfic

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dreamy625 · 1 month

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Overture and beginners - chapter 5

< Chapter 4

Words: 1412

Content: Very slightly smutty

-----------------------------

“Pssst.”

Steve looked around warily, “Hello?”

“Over here, behind the van.”

Recognising the voice, he checked hastily over his shoulder before ducking behind the rusty old Transit. “What are you doing here? Your dad’s just inside you know.”

“He won’t see us here. Look what I got!” She waved a small cardboard box at him. When he just blinked in incomprehension, she pulled out the foil strip inside and showed him the side with the days of the week printed on it. Steve might be fairly innocent in the ways of women, but even he knew what that was.

“Put them away!” he hissed. “Someone might see.”

Katie put the packet back in her handbag. “So what do you think?” she asked, suddenly uncertain, worried that she had gone a bit too fast.

“I think you’re very brave,” said Steve seriously, “to go into one of those clinics.”

“Oh, that was fine. I’ve been before, with other people. Other people who should have gone earlier,” she added with a wince. “That’s why I know it’s important.” Noticing that her boyfriend still looked rather bunny-in-headlights, she rushed on, “No pressure… just so we don’t have to be worried… and to be prepared… for when, if...”

Steve’s anxious expression cracked into a soft smile, “You are amazing. And just so you know,” he looked down, suddenly finding the pavement fascinating, “I, er, did go to the chemist, so it’s not all on you.”

She could imagine exactly how embarrassed that little errand would have made him and couldn’t help smiling a dopey smile at him. Glancing up, he smiled back.

“I would kiss you if I wasn’t so scared of someone seeing,” he whispered.

“I’ll imagine it.” She closed her eyes for a second and puckered her lips, “Mmm.”

Steve snorted, “You’re barmy, you!”

“Just a little bit.” She started walking backwards away from him - “See you Saturday.” - then turned and ran up the street.

-----------------------------

Saturday afternoon found them once again, taking advantage of the elder Raffertys’ fortnightly visit to Great Aunt Margaret in Barnsley, rolling in the sheets of Katie’s yellow-frilled single bed. With Steve’s shifts and numerous band practices, and Katie’s need to conceal the existence of a boyfriend that her father had such a strong aversion to, they’d only managed to see each other for a chaste few hours at the City’s art gallery in the intervening two weeks, so when finally alone they’d wasted no time, peeling off clothing the second they got through the door and down to their underwear by the time they landed on the mattress in a tangle of limbs.

“Oh, I have missed you,” muttered Steve into Katie’s neck as he slid his hand up the smooth plane of her back and unclipped her bra.

“I can tell,” she commented cheekily, brushing her hand lightly across the rapidly-growing bulge in his boxer shorts. Caressing his bum, she couldn’t resist giving one of the perfect pert cheeks a little pinch.

In revenge, the kiss he was about to bestow on her collarbone turned into sucking, hard.

“No marks!” she squealed. “I had to wear a polo neck for three days in a row after last time!”

Her weedy attempts to push him away were useless, so she reached under his arm and tickled him. His surprised ‘Ah!’ broke the suction, but he took the attack as a declaration of war and started to tickle her back - maybe not a fight he should have picked as he turned out to be way more ticklish than she was! However, despite his slight frame, he was stronger and, amid the breathless giggling and wriggling, he managed to tip her onto her back and pin her hands above her head.

“Do you give in?”

His grip on her wrists was loose and she could have pulled away if she tried, but she didn’t want to. “Okay, I give in… if you kiss me!”

That seemed like a pretty good bargain to Steve.

Building on the success of their previous experiments, they graduated to putting their hands to work on each other simultaneously, the shared sensations adding a new level of intimacy and inching them closer to the eventual goal that they’d both acknowledged with their parallel visits to purveyors of contraception.

Steve came up for air, “We could… do you want to try…?”

Katie bit her lip, thinking. There were butterflies in her stomach, but only little ones. She nodded, then reiterated, “Yes, I want to.” Steve smiled in response, but then he seemed to freeze, profound indecision showing on his face. “Do you? Want to?”

“Yes.” He scrunched his eyes up. “No. I mean, yes, but… argh… not now. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Do you want to stop?”

“...No…” The conflicting forces of desire and caution could be heard in his voice.

“So…” She’d stilled her hand during that discussion, but not moved it away from its grasp on Steve’s dick, and now she made a tentative half-stroke. “Just hands then?”

“Hands is good. Hands is very good.”

-----------------------------

After a mutually satisfying conclusion and a quick cleanup, they laid side-by-side with the covers pulled up to their chins in the chilly room.

“Sorry, I just… not here. I just feel like they’ll know.”

“Aw but they’re out, they’ll be gone for hours yet.”

“I can’t shake the what-ifs. What if they come home early, what if someone heard us through the wall or… I dunno… psychic parent vibes or something.”

He was smiling so she felt it was okay to laugh, “You are silly.” She lifted herself on one elbow so she could see him better. “Is it so different from what we just did anyway? And would it really matter if they did find out? I’m eighteen after all…”

“YES! Your dad will actually kill me!”

“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating.”

“He said he’d break both my legs AND both my arms! I’m not so worried about the legs, but I need my arms for playing.”

“But how would he know, psychic vibes aside? I’m certainly not going to tell him.”

“Because,” he said, pulling her down into his arms, “if we do this, I won’t be able to wipe the grin off my stupid face for at least a week afterwards. Everyone will know!”

“You are funny,” she murmured, nestling her face against his neck.

“Hilarious. Now, it’s nearly tea time, so I’d better go. Just in case.”

Reluctantly she let go and sat up, feeling around the bed for discarded items of clothing. Steve stood up and pulled on his jeans.

“My parents are doing the quiz at the Admiral Rodney next Saturday evening. I can skive practice just this once, Kev’ll be out with his girlfriend, and I can bribe Chris to go to the pictures. We could have the place to ourselves? If you want?”

"I'd like that,” she said, tossing Steve his t-shirt.

As they were saying goodbye on the doorstop, Katie’s face suddenly registered alarm. “Get down!” she hissed, dropping into a crouch.

“Shit! Not your parents?” He looked genuinely terrified.

“No, but Mrs Craddock from next door just came out her front door. Her and Mam are friends, and she’s a terrible gossip.” She craned her neck to get a better look. “Damn, she’s holding secateurs, like she’s going to do gardening or something.”

“What are we going to do?” Steve mouthed, still wide-eyed.

“She might be out there for ages… you’re going to have to crawl. If you stay close to the hedge, she won’t be able to see you. Wait for my signal when you get to the gateway, I’ll distract her, and then you run, okay?”

It seemed risky, but he couldn’t think of anything better, so he nodded.

“Good luck,” she whispered, and Steve raised his hand in a salute.

He made his way slowly around the garden on hands and knees, smothering a yelp when he put his hand down on a slug.

“Oh my life is not at all ridiculous,” he thought as he squatted behind the gate waiting for the all-clear.

“Well HELLO Mrs Craddock, hasn’t it been a LOVELY day?” greeted Katie loudly.

“It rained, dear,” came the slightly puzzled response.

But it did the trick, she turned away from her pruning to face her meteorologically-challenged neighbour. Katie raised her thumb behind her back and Steve sidled crablike around the gatepost and made a break for it.

Chapter 6 (final chapter) >

#steve clark #steve clark fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #overture and beginners fic

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