#when silver cries i cry

[kohanaaaaa]

Finally played through chapter 7.. miracles were made today won at the 1st try I really thought I was gonna lose since I had barely any hp left

[true-blue-sonic]

I think TSR played a big part in the "crybaby that wouldn't hurt a fly" perception of Silver. Silver in that game can't even comprehend other people's aggression. I think that combined with how meek and even fearful he's often drawn in IDW creates that impression of him(he cowers in fear at Blaze's flames and nervously holds her in Victory Garden and that isn't the only instance of him being frightened in that series)

About TSR, I definitely agree. Though, I looked into it more before to see if Silver would meekly let Lanolin scold him without talking back in IDW issue 63, and Silver actually does have good scenes in the English localisation! For example, he is shown at least twice to be right on Eggman's tail about what he is doing with Dodon Pa and the Ultimate Energy Engine, and even talks to Eggman once without immediately letting himself be shot down when Eggman insults him.

....But then the localisation put in that fucking Trash Talk Scene and UGH. I looked at the Japanese version, and especially Sonic is just so much more easier to bear there. The thing is, the essence of what the localisation seemed to want to convey in their conversation is absolutely there. Sonic is a bit teasing and competitive, Silver is somewhat awkward and cannot really convey what is bothering him. But Japanese!Sonic, you know, tells Silver multiple times to not worry. That they're friends who haven't seen each other in a while and that he thus would like to race with Silver because he enjoys it. He does joke a bit with Silver's worries, but when Silver expresses frustration he backtracks and goes right back to encouragement once more. None of that dumb "I'm gonna badly beat youuuuu" "I'm gonna make you look sillyyyyyy get your head in the gameeeee" "I'm gonna feed my car to youuuuu", and so on. That's not expressing happiness at being able to race with a friend who hasn't been around in a while, that's just being a smug jerk waving your self-confidence into someone's face who clearly is not interested. And then you continue ragging him on while he tries to talk about his worries, which you keep shooting down in favour of your bragging. Bah. One of English-TSR!Sonic's worst moments, imo. Not helped by Silver's altogether awful responses, like "I'm not hungry, but thanks", and not to mention the "I'm so gonna own you!" "Okay." from the racing start. Like Silv, bruh, you're constantly sneering at and mocking other racers on the track in multiple games, show some bite??? And, as seems to be happening with most of Silver's mischaracterisation by fandom, this one event gets cherrypicked to show that he's just Complete UwU Baby Who Cannot Trash Talk So Cute So Cinnamon Roll If You Look At Him Funny He'll Drown In His Own Tears.

....Yeah. Sigh. Even worse because he's got multiple good moments otherwise.

Anyway, onwards to my other current Silver-related dislike in the Sonic franchise, namely IDW! Because he can indeed be drawn strangely there, and definitely cowering like you said in your ask. Though, a Silver with huge starry eyes and shit when things go right for the heroes for a change is HELLA ooc as well. Give Tangle her stripes and tail back please :/

In my mind, Tangle was similarly starry-eyed in issue 9 as Silver in issue 26, but Silver is WORSE there. In what world is Silver more of a Manic Pixie Dream Genki Girl than Tangle???

And the annoying thing is that also in IDW he's got, in my opinion, great moments! The battle with Zomom in #28 is a no-nonsense, well-coordinated fight between Silver and Whisper wherein Silver can convey what he believes in when he gets jeered at, while showing off some slick psychic moves. In issue 30, Silver gets tons of moments to shine: he's a massive help in Sonic's attempt to reach the final Emerald with Metal Sonic on multiple fronts (carrying the Emeralds, using his powers to block the blows from that gigantic Zavok while not dropping them, getting to Sonic at the very last second so he can turn Super in time, etc.). And even if the Super battle against the gigantic Zavok goes by in mere seconds (which the comic lampshades itself), the scene wherein Sonic and Silver remove the Metal Virus from the world with Silver's PK is one I quite like as well. It shows further good coordination between Sonic and Silver, nobody is being a smug jerk, they know what they should do to save the world and do it smoothly. So also in IDW there are definitely moments to be found where Silver is just his IC self, where I would even go so far as to say that for a good 80% or so in issue 63 he is too.

...But, of course, people only look at the moments wherein he's Being Baby to support the fact that He Is Baby, so there's not a lot of people paying attention to those issues in favour of others that have him far more flanderised and dumb. For example, I quite like Victory Garden because I like the idea Silver would start a garden and seeing Blaze and Silver interact, but it doesn't give much respect for his powers (he can't even carry a bunch of equipment at once, or not slap himself right in the face with it?), throws in an obligatory It's No Use reference because Evan wrote this*, and adds some silly faces and poses here and there on him as well. And there you have it: uwu baby Silver! Not to mention the absolutely awful way Sonic treated him in issue 8, where I'd say the TSR conversation was actually bearable compared to that. Plus the fact Silver is just regularly drawn all throughout the comic as wide-eyed cute boyo in all sorts of goofy kid poses, to the point where Evan actually toned down some of her sketches for #8. (I believe there is a second example when he and Sonic first see Whisper, but Tumblr's search function is shit as always.) So yeah, both the art of IDW and the way Silver is written there tends to be on the meh side in my opinion and furthermore makes him a nice punching bag for everyone else, sigh, and those are the exact moments other fans seem to focus on for their idea of what Silver acts like in favour of actual more IC moments.

I do not know enough about what appears to be one of the root causes of this mischaracterisation of Silver: namely Archie, the stories of the various issues Silver was in, and the fandom's general mindset at the time. But I know enough to realise that Silver was just written plain awfully there, and it bothers me that Silver The Punching Bag (both by comic characters and writers alike, really) from that comic just seems to have gotten carried right over into IDW next. And now we indeed have fans see Silver as a massive cry-baby with half a braincell who won't be able to walk two steps without perishing from something, which is fine if that is how you want to portray him for your fanwork! But it is not what an IC Silver is like, yet especially the comics portray him like that too. I will readily say that Silver seems tough to get down because he's gotten a very 'dual' personality between rude determinist and friendly world-admirer, but the fandom, comic writers, and localisers alike focus far too heavily on that latter part and twist him into someone he simply is not. And since I like seeing both parts of that personality come into play and I do not like Silver being drawn like Tangle (wide-eyed, goofy, Silly Poses Of Enthusiasm) while displaying an altogether awfully unfitting personality (dumb, overly innocent with a complete lack of rudeness or smugness, constantly being set up to be mocked by other characters), I do not like how this characterisation is what has become so pervasive in the fandom's mindset, either.

[drag0nalias0]

Wasn't expecting a trash isekai with an op protagonist anime to make me start to almost cry today but hey ho.

It seems that my weakness for cute villains with sad backstories has struck again.

Atl least Toma didnt die like i thought he was going to, unlike Rui and Destra. (Although the second season of Fruit of Evolution was horrible and deviated from the light novel in the worst way. He didnt even die, from what i remember, in the light novel. But i was yelling the whole season for the poor boy to get a hug and at least he got that. Untill he killed hisself)

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

It’s cool to think there are wrestling stat guy stans like how there is with baseball

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟔 — 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

kinktober day 006 | roommate!natasha x werewolf!reader

despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for.

cont. reader has a cock, (very) rough sex, breeding, creampie

word count. 2063

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Natasha, you can’t stay here during my transformation,” you plead, grasping your roommate’s hand in yours.

The brunette is adamant, looking up at you with a stubbornly steely gaze. “I’m staying, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

You wring your hands in exasperation, somewhere near tearing your hair out in frustration or crying in anger. “You’re not listening to me, Nat. It’s not just the pain. I become a different being altogether, and you just can’t see me like that.”

“I can, and I will,” she stubbornly says, folding her arms over her chest and mistakably pushing her cleavage up, too.

The tips of your ears burn at seeing Natasha so utterly bratty.

You bite your tongue, refusing to argue with Natasha even more. Keeping you safe was one thing, but the real reason to steer Natasha away from you during the full moon was to keep her safe.

Because when you’re in your werewolf form, your true desires get heightened by a thousandfold, and from the way you already feel about Natasha, you’re worried it might implode when it comes to your inner beast.

As the Gods of Fate have it out for you, the full moon comes earlier than expected.

Your first agonized cry comes when Natasha’s still in the shower.

“Y/N!” Natasha calls out your name, once, haphazardly scrambling to wrap a towel around herself and sprint to the room where your cries are coming from.

The sight that greets her is absolutely horrific.

You’re bent over, on the floor of your room, on all fours and spitting out blood. Your back is bent at an inhuman angle, your spine broken.

“......Y/N?” Natasha’s voice shook, rooted to the spot in sheer terror.

You don’t respond. You’re in a state of little awareness, or so it seems, a low grunt of pain and fury escaping from you as your transformation continues. 

Natasha takes in a deep breath and steps into the room.

She wants to reach out, hold your hand, tell you that it’s going to be fine but she knows it’s not. The sounds of excruciating pain, broken bones, and surpassed limits make Natasha weep for you on the inside, knowing that you have to go through this painstaking process every month.

The transformation seems to be slowing down, now. Your human blood is splattered across the walls of your room, but your werewolf form seems to be perfectly healthy. You’re still more human than wolf, though: your muscles had thickened and were iron-hard, and you were taller than before. 

However, your wolfish eyes that survey the room are bloodshot red and absolutely inhuman.

That gaze is a chilling scene, narrowed eyes and steady puffs of air surveying the room. Your slow yet calculated mannerisms are reminiscent of your human form.

Natasha hasn’t quite yet caught your eye,  but when she does, it’s like a predator has found its prey.

Your red eyes are like lit coals and smoking silver, surveying Natasha with every ounce of authority and a near possesiveness.

“Natasha.”

Time stills, and the sound of your haunting voice reverberates around the four walls of your room.

Natasha truly can’t help but let out the tiniest whimper of fear. And perhaps a little something more.

“Y/N,” Natasha says your name again, because it seems to be the only thing capable of falling from her lips, and she swallows harshly at your predatory behaviour. She presses into the wall, one hand clutching the top of her towel, the other finding purchase in the edge of your cupboard. 

When you begin to move closer, Natasha screws her eyes shut, anticipating what was to come. Your presence looms over her, metaphorically and physically, and Natasha waits for her inevitable demise.

The ‘inevitable demise’ never happens.

Instead, Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly to your huge hands gently wrapping around her torso, a sharp nose burying itself into the crook of her neck.

The whine she lets slip is involuntary. Your close proximity undermines her calm composure, regardless of your way, shape, or form. If that was telling of her feelings towards you, Natasha would choose to play oblivious.

You’re supposed to be scary, and Natasha’s supposed to be terrified, but with the way you’re dragging your nose up and down the column of Natasha’s slender neck, inhaling her sweet scent, she hardly considers her heart to be beating steadily.

She’s intoxicated by you, even more so with your unabashed exploration of Natasha’s neck. The redhead might be grasping at straws, but it’s almost like you’re seeking something. Something from Natasha. Comfort, perhaps?

“You’re okay,” the redhead whispers, fingers combing through your fur in comforting motions. She hears something that sounds suspiciously like a purr of satisfaction, so she repeats that motion.

Your head moves from her pale neck to her pretty collarbones and down her cleavage until your nose hits the obstruction of Natasha's towel.

A low rumble of disgruntlement sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. Natasha lets a full-body shudder take its hold of her body, under the vibrations of your low decibels.

Not comfort, then. What was it?

Almost like you could read Natasha’s inner thoughts, your werewolf form decides to say capre diem and let a huge hand slither up the inside of your roommate’s bare thigh.

Natasha squeals and swats your hand away, instinctively, then she catches herself and her eyes go wide. 

Oh. 

The fire that dances in your eyes is nothing short of a human-like mischief, playful and oh so dangerous. The incarnadine flush that adorns Natasha’s cheeks like a flower blossoming in the spring is one that your werewolf greedily soaks up, pulling her body flush against yours.

You can see the moment realization hits Natasha, the moment she realizes your desires are nothing short of sinful. 

“Want,” you enunciate slowly, stately and unyielding. Your eyes are locked onto hers, gleaming. 

Expectant. Possessive. Knowing.

The grasp of your hand on her inner thigh once again has Natasha letting out a breathy moan, one of pleasure and a startling realisation.

It wasn’t comfort. It was sex.

-----

If Natasha knew that werewolves were this fucking astronomical at sex, she would’ve introduced supernatural creatures into her bed a long time ago.

The position she’s in is nothing short of embarrassing, on all fours, grasping at the headboard like it was her lifeline. 

Perhaps it was, truthfully, because with the ferocity of the thrusts of your Herculean-sized werewolf cock into her pussy from behind was worthy of being sent to the afterlife. Not like Natasha would complain, though.

“Oh- mhmmm, n’more, s’too much,” Natasha slurs, her breasts shaking rhythmically with each time your jerk that massive thing into her, velvet walls squeezing tight around your pulsing cock. Her eyes are threatening to roll back, drool already spilling from the sides of her lips, arousal already leaking from her thighs and on to the bed.

You don’t seem to give a damn about the messiness of it, though, and that could perhaps be linked to the scientific nature of more barbaric animals. But Natasha could ponder over animal studies at a later point in time, for now she was being treated like a fuckdoll, and it was midblowingly gratifying.

“All– the way,” you grunt, trying to shove the entirety of your huge cock into Natasha’s pussy, clearly displeased by the fact that you were struggling to be sealed inside the redhead completely and inescapably. 

It shouldn’t have been a problem because she was already so wet, so pliant, so perfect for the taking. You’d make do with what you had, though.

“It’s too big,” Natasha had whined earlier, gasping as your tip stretched her opening out, the biggest thing she’d ever taken in her life. Her grasp on the headboard tightened as you slid in with a cruel impatience, big hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass.

“I’ll… make it fit,” you reply, somewhat slowly, your speech clearly deterred by your transformation into part-animal. The results of it are undeniably effective, nonetheless, the cockiness of your brash words making arousal pool in Natasha’s hips.

You’ve reached a sweet spot of Natasha’s, and her walls clench around your big cock tightly, mewling as you push its head against her sponginess. 

“Right there, please, please, plea-” Natasha is cut off by one of her own moans when you jerk inside her, spurred on by the sheer tightness she’s providing you. 

When you lean down to entrap Natasha in a breeding press, your bigger body engulfing her smaller one, slick and sweat converging in an unholy sacrament, it’s all over for her.

Going weak in the knees, Natasha moans as her arms give out and her front flops into the bed. The results of this lie in the fact that her back becomes beautifully arched, her ass rising towards the ceiling; your wolfish eyes drink the sight in with a lick of your lips, cock twitching at the prospect of all the new angles you’d be able to reach.

An animalistic prowess takes mighty hold over your sentience, triggering a feral craze to wash over your werewolf form, and it takes mere seconds before you ram your cock back inside Natasha’s wrecked cunt with undying fervour.

The warbled sounds the girl lets out beneath goes unheard, muffled by the pillow, but the sheer slickness of her pretty pussy gives a certain confirmation that she was enjoying it as much as you did. 

Not that your werewolf would care much, anyways: What it was chasing was pleasure, seeking relief in the completely sexual sense, a carnal desire to take and to breed and to claim. 

You push yourself in hilt-deep inside Natasha, fully lodged in, skin against skin.

Instinctively, your hands fly to Natasha’s belly. You can feel your cock bulge there, spreading her out, filling her up.

The next series of your thrusts cause Natasha to make noises she’s never made before, her body moving like clay under your touch. 

You pull out and make her sob, then thrust all the way back in with an unbridled strength that leaves Natasha breathless. Then again, and again, until she cums helplessly around your cock, pulsing and throbbing and alight with nerves.

This is not the side of you Natasha’s grown to know and love. There are no gentle smiles, no soft hugs and whispered words of admiration. It’s completely animalistic, entirely pleasure-chasing, undeniably one-sided.

You’re thrusting into her like she’s your personal fuckdoll, bringing her to high after high, but you don’t even seem to register that fact. You’re using her for your pleasure, and it should be wrong, but…

“More! More, please, please, need another,” Natasha sobs into the pillow, every fibre of her body screaming at her to stop but her brain unable to put it into action. She hardly registers what she’s saying, only begging pathetically and dripping endlessly.

“Inside,” you growl, right next to her ear, sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. Natasha babbles her acknowledgement, even more turned on at the prospect of being filled, fuck it, and the orgasm that crashes over the both of you is heaven-like.

Natasha’s scream of your name reverberates for miles to come.

With that, you’re cumming, finally, and the seed that spills out from you is endless. Natasha drools into the pillow as you unload your cum inside her, gripping fistfuls of her ass pressed flush against your hips. 

“Mine,” you hear yourself say. The helplessly, pathetically aroused tone of your voice nearly makes Natasha weep again — she’s rendered a damn werewolf near speechless.

Streams of white fluid spray onto Natasha’s back once you’re done with her cunt. You manhandle her around to face the front, to find her pretty eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool coating her lips.

Your werewolf heaves as you watch as your seed overflows from her pretty pussy and on to her thick thighs. A perfect creampie.

Your werewolf, however, has different plans, feeling your cock stiffen again at the sight of her ruined pussy. 

-----

The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing feeling between your legs.

Shit. Was it my transformation?

You leap out of bed, yanking the covers off—

To reveal a very naked Natasha Romanoff, your best friend and your roommate.

She awakes with a start, blinking at the light, and then wincing as if her body was aching all over.

“.......Nat?” you ask hesitantly, eyes trailing over her marked thighs and tits. “What happened last night?”

“Okay. Don’t panic, but you’re fathering my children.”

finally catching up on fics!! i did spend significantly longer on this fic, so it would be highly appreciated if you could reblog

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[luveline]

can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room. 

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?" 

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there." 

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers. 

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress." 

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held. 

"It's not, everybody cries." 

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently. 

"It's really not a big deal." 

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?" 

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass." 

"No, Eddie, you can't." 

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks. 

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt. 

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry." 

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?" 

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says. 

You nod appreciatively. "Well…" 

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?" 

"I know so," you say. 

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides. 

"People saying shit about you?" he asks. 

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb." 

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh. 

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?" 

"Is it really weird?" you ask. 

"Super fucking weird, babe." 

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear. 

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask. 

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

"Isn't it always?" 

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen. 

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually." 

"Are you serious?" 

"As a heart attack." 

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you." 

"You're very charming," you say sweetly. 

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."  

[ventique18]

MALLEUS: "What, is that hairless monkey-looking, naked creature?"

Lilia: "It's the rumored child you were talking about. His name is Silver. So? Isn't he adorable?"

Malleus: "Adorable? This thing?"

HONEY IT'S A BABY. YOU LOOKED LIKE A NAKED MONKEY CREATURE SOMETIME IN YOUR LIFE TOO YOU KNOW OMFG!

Lilia then says Malleus came at just the right timing because he'll be off shopping, so he asks Malleus to look after Silver for a bit. MALLEUS LITERALLY ALL-CAPS IN SURPRISE LMAO!

"HA? THIS THING? ME?!"

Then Lilia says unlike fairies, human babies apparently can't live off of flower nectar LOL! So he's off to get some powdered milk. Malleus screams after Lilia and says what if he accidentally KILLS this tiny thing because of his strength? Lilia says it's fine, just stroke him gentle and sing him a lullaby if he cries.

SO SILVER DOES CRY WHEN LILIA LEAVES. Malleus PANICS LMAO. I LOVE HIS VOICE! He sounds so young!

Malleus: "Ugh. What a noisy cry. So, I should only sing you a lullaby and you will sleep? Why would I even know any lullaby?"

Silver: "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!"

Malleus: "No, wait... I do know one."

HIS VOICE IS BEAUTIFUL WHAT THE HELL I HAD TO PUT DOWN MY PHONE HOLY SHIT!!!!

Malleus: "... He actually fell asleep. Ha... Lilia, hurry and come back."

Malleus: "But, where did I hear this lullaby..?"

IT'S MELEANOR'S LULLABY TO HIM WHEN HE WAS AN EGG!!! AAAAAH!

[buckyalpine]

Sub Bucky x reader

In my fucked up phase rn, That’s it, that’s the warning for this. Cause imagine behind closed doors, Bucky turns into a subby, babbling little baby for you, desperate for you to help get rid of that achy feeling between his legs, that special place you never let him play with. 

“Baby boy” you purr, slinking over to the bed, your eyes raking up and down over his very naked body, his leaky cock making a mess all over his tummy. “Are you hard baby”

Bucky whimpered with a nod, squeezing his thighs together to give his balls some relief, gripping his cock tightly in his hand. He wanted to wait for you but he couldn’t, imagining you under the shower, water soaking your body, your delicious body wash covered in soapy bubbles. He tried to ignore the way the image made him leak but before he could stop himself, he’d thrown his clothes off to palm himself. 

“Only naughty boys touch themselves baby, I told you, tell mommy to help you” You brushed your fingers through his soft locks, ignoring his needy pout, walking over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a silver chastity lock. 

“What is it?” Bucky looked at your quizzically with wide puppy eyes, whining at the feeling of the cold metal touching his sensitive cock. He squirmed at the feeling, still trying to be good for you while you tapped his thigh to hold still. 

“It’s to help you bubba” you coo, locking the cage in place, kissing his pouty face.

“Was I bad?” He looked down at his throbbing length, wishing he’d just waited for you instead just like you’d asked. 

“Of course not baby, but I don’t want you hurting yourself, you gotta be gentle when you touch yourself there, right?” 

“But-

“Shh, you’re my good boy, aren’t you?” You leave him high and dry, slinking off to the vanity and grabbing your body lotion, rubbing it between your palms before slathering it onto your skin. 

It makes everything so much worse. 

Imagine you find him whimpering and whining, playing himself through the cage, palming and tugging whatever he could touch. He lets out a frustrated huff, precum making his plush thighs sticky while start to lotion your breasts, smirking as you give them a squeeze making him nearly cry. 

“What’s wrong baby”

“It’s too tight” Bucky whined, the head of his very pink cock and nearly bursting out with how hard he was. “Thingy is too big to fit, hurts mommy” 

“Aww baby c’mhere” You decided to give into his neediness, your own cunt soaked and fluttering with how greedy and desperate he was. You took the key and unlocked the chastity cage, smirking at the whimper he let out, his cock instantly hard, the tip already wet. 

“Mommy-

“Shh, you don’t want others to see how naughty you are baby” You grip the base of his cock, rolling his heavy balls in your hand, leaning over to flick your tongue over his slit making him moan, another spurt of precum dribbling out. “What have I said about your special place” You ask him softly while giving him long, languid strokes, loving the way his eyes roll back, trembling on the sheets. 

“Only-only you can touch me”

“Good boy” You hum, jerking him off until he’s nearly in tears, making him hold it while you straddle him and impale yourself on his cock. He can barely control himself while you slam yourself up and down  on him, struggling to keep his hips from moving, wanting to thrust up into you and cum for minutes on end. 

“Fuck mommy!” He cries out, tears streaking his cheeks, pawing at your breasts as they bounce above his face, “I wanna cum, wanna cum so bad” Only you can make him lose it like this, only you’re allowed to make him feel good, all of his self-restraint slipping as you clench around him. 

“Yeah baby? Wanna cum in mommy? Does your special place feel all tingly now?” you coo, reaching behind to tug his balls and his jaw falls open with he most guttural, primal moan he can muster, your hips riding him faster, “Go on sweet boy, you can cum, let mommy take care of that achy feeling baby, make yourself feel good” 

He wails with pleasure as he starts to thrust up, only getting in two sloppy strokes before emptying himself in you, his cream covering his shaft and balls, dripping down his ass and onto the bed. 

I’m driving myself feral with what would happen you caught him masturbating. He held off as long as he could, but he can’t get rid of the feeling and he needs to take care of it right now. He doesn’t care that you caught him while he was tugging at himself, one hand cupping his balls, pulling and palming them while the other strokes his cock. You shook your head disapprovingly but he can’t stop. 

“But it was so hard mama” He pouts, spreading his legs further to show you, “See?” He bucks his hips up slightly for emphasis, giving you a shameless view of his heavy cock and balls and cute perky ass, “S’too full” 

Just imagine his soft little squeals of pleasure when he lets go of all restrains and rubs himself all over your bed. His face is buried in your pillow, all clothes on the floor, his hips rolling and grinding on the mattress. He can only take so much, eventually shoving the pillow between his legs, humping himself like a puppy in heat till its soaked with cum. He loves how soft it feels on his dick, pressing it harder against him in different positions, his favorite being on his back while he holds it down and rubs himself on it. 

He doesn’t stop until the sheets have to be changed. 

“What did you do baby” You cocked an eyebrow, the scent of sex and his self pleasure making your body feel hot, ready to punish him until hes begging you to stop. 

“I-I-” He struggles to meet your eye, caught with your pillow shoved between his legs, whining when you pull it again to reveal his spent cock, stick cum glistening all over his skin. “I didn’t mean to, my thingy had too much cum mommy” 

“Aww, my baby’s special place was all tingly again?” 

“So tingly, mommy, look” He spreads his legs for you again and it makes your belly clench each time. He was such a needy, horny little fuck, always ready to present himself to you, letting you play with his special place whenever you wanted. You coo at his apologetic pout, reaching over to give his soft cock a squeeze, loving the high pitched whine he lets out, now overly sensitive from his many orgasms. A steady dribble continues to weep from the tip and you lean over to take him in your mouth, making him shudder. 

“Looks like you’re not empty yet baby” you continue to lick and tease him, milking him dry till there’s not a drop left-

I apologize but I did say this was my fucked up phase, so if you made it this far, this is on both of us. 

[dark-fics-4-you]

Thinking about an younger reader calling Dark!Dilf Rafe old and that’s he needs some viagra 😭LOL

Imagining his reaction 🤬

Softcore

Dark!Dad’sBestFriend/DILF!Rafe x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), ignoring safe words, smut, large age gap (20-30 years), spanking, choking, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, breeding kink, degradation, secret relationship, manipulation, daddy kink, Rafe uses ‘kid’ to refer to reader a couple times, Rafe wants to get reader pregnant against her will

A/N: In my mind Rafe is in his late 40s/early 50s in this and Reader is 19/early-mid 20s

⚠️CHECK ALL CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE READING‼️⚠️

“Y’know, maybe I didn’t hear you correctly kid, would you mind repeating yourself?”

You could tell by the edge in his voice that you had succeeded in getting a reaction out of him, but the way his blue eyes darkened as he glared at you led you to swallow down your cockiness.

Your boyfriend’s tall frame crowded your vision as he approached the bed you were lounging on as he removed his boxers.

Glancing away didn’t help, as the older man’s large hand came to your chin, redirecting your attention back up to him as he towered above you. Still you found your eyes fixed on the spots where his dark blond hair had begun turning silver.

“What did you just say to me, Y/N?” He spoke slowly, as if you were child who was acting up.

Despite knowing that this was his way of giving you a chance to retract what you had just said, you huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes at the man who was older than your own father, before repeating yourself with a small laugh, “I said, I’m getting you viagra for your birthday since you’re getting so old.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened in frustration, eyebrows furrowing together before suddenly moving the hand on your cheek to your throat, applying a light pressure that had your eyes widening in surprise.

“You think this is fucking funny?” Rafe growled before pinning you to the bed you were sitting on by your throat.

The back of your head hit the soft mattress, the force at which Rafe had grabbed you made your pink lingerie slip ride up, exposing your matching panties underneath and some of the soft skin of your tummy. He licked his lips as he watched as your nipples harden beneath the thin material.

“Rafe-” you eeked in surprise, your hand reaching up to grab the one at your throat.

“Still think this is a joke?”

It took almost no effort for him to grab you again, climbing onto the bed as he manhandled you into laying across his lap face down.

“Rafe! Stop it! I’m sorry, okay?!” Your desperate pleas for him to release you went unfulfilled, and as you thrashed on his lap, trying to break free, you already knew what was coming next in return for your careless joke, and you couldn’t tell if the pit in your stomach came from excitement or fear.

“Nah, I don’t think I am gonna stop,” goosebumps erupted across your skin when you felt him pull the material of your slip up your back, exposing your round ass to him.

You shivered when he placed his hand flat on your ass, rubbing your skin and lightly groping the fat of your butt.

The blond drew his hand back and your tensed in anticipation before he spanked you hard. The extra sting from his rings made you whine and you bit your lip to keep from crying out.

“What do you say?” His expectant voice reminded you of your rules.

“… thank you, daddy,” you reluctantly forced through gritted teeth.

This second strike was harder this time, on the same place he had hit you last and you cried out louder this time.

“Mm- thank you, daddy. I’m sorry,” you added at the end, stupidly hoping that niceties could get your through this punishment faster.

He spanked you again, this time smacking the untouched cheek, and you moaned at the sharp pain.

“Y’really think sucking up to me now is gonna help you out, sweetheart?” He said mockingly, as if he was reading your mind.

You were slower to answer him, his words taking longer to register as your body tried to numb the pain.

“N-no. And thank you, daddy.” You didn’t want to forget to thank him again, he only ever gave you one warning.

Rafe was clearly enjoying toying with you, you could feel his stiff cock poking against your thigh, further proof no viagra was needed.

After 4 more spanks, your eyes were leaking tears, lip wobbling as you mumbled out appreciations each time he struck your now bright red ass.

“Rafe! Please, I said I’m sorry, okay?! It was-” you hiccuped through tears, “it was just a stupid joke.”

You swore you felt his dick throb against you at the sound of your pleading voice.

He ignored you, however, instead striking your ass three times quickly and rough enough that you almost screamed from the pain and shock.

“Red light! Rafe please,” you sobbed out the safe word that you and Rafe always used, but the sound of him chuckling darkly in response made your blood run cold.

Pain bloomed across your already sore ass again and you whimpered. You were crying heavily now, and you brought your own hand to your mouth to muffle your weeping when he spanked you again.

“Have you learned your fucking lesson?” His stern voice came from above and you nodded immediately.

“Yes daddy, please! I’m so sorry.” You cried desperately.

You winced when you sensed his hand nearing you again, but this time, his thumb slipped between your legs and traced over your barely clothed slit.

You squirmed in his lap as his lazily thumbed your clit over your panties, whining when he applied pressure.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that, kid? Pretty sick of you to be so goddamn drenched for an ‘old man’ like me.” Rafe mocked you, and to your embarrassment, you could feel yourself growing wetter when he slid your panties to the side and slowly pushed his thick middle finger into your slick cunt.

A whimper escaped your lips when he curled his finger inside you, and your hips twitched as you tried to make more friction between the two of you.

“Shut up,” you moaned before he finally started thrusting the digit into you.

“Please, we both know you get off on the fact that your father has no clue his little princess is sleeping with his best friend.” You didn’t have to see him to know the triumphant, jeering smirk he had playing across his lips.

You also didn’t deny what he said, because you couldn’t. No matter how completely fucked up it was, you did find sneaking behind your parents’ back to see an older man to be thrilling in the sickest way possible.

Not to mention how hard you had came on the several occasions the two of you had gotten close to being discovered (every time, his hand had slapped over your mouth to stifle your moans, but he didn’t stop fucking you until he emptied himself into the condom, no matter how high the risk of being caught).

Part of you suspected he was so careless at times because he wanted the two of you to get caught, a thought that was so unbelievable at first that you completely dismissed it, but when two times became three, and then three times became an almost weekly occurrence, you found it hard to deny that he seemed to enjoy putting you in situations where you could be discovered.

You felt him pull his finger out of you before grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back onto the bed, and you protested as he climbed over you, caging you beneath him with his big, veiny arms.

“How mad do ya think he’d be if I put a baby in you, huh, Y/N?” Your eyes widened as he looked down at you hungrily.

“Rafe-” you said warily, trying to sit up and get out from under him, but the older man easily grabbed your shoulder and pushed you back on the bed.

“I bet he’d kick you out of the house if you got knocked up.” Despite your kicking, his strong hands grabbed the straps of your panties, ripping them past your legs and tossing them behind him.

“But imagine how disappointed with you he’d be if he knew you let me do it,” Rafe chuckled, and more tears formed at your waterline as his words sunk in.

“Stop it, Rafe. I’m serious, this isn’t funny, it’s sick,” you couldn’t stop your voice from wavering as you looked up at him.

When one of his hands locked tight around your wrist, you whimpered, struggling against him to free yourself.

You froze when you felt the head of his thick cock rubbing against your slit, and Rafe’s grip on your wrist tightened as he started to push his tip inside of you.

“Stop fucking moving around, Y/N,” his gruff voice commanded.

Resisting did nothing to help you, and you were almost disgusted by how wet you felt as he forced himself deeper.

Taking all of Rafe’s cock was never a painless process for you, he was so thick it always felt like he was splitting you in half, even more-so now.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he stretched you out slowly. Rafe groaned when his dick nudged your cervix, dropping his head to your neck and trailing sloppy kisses along the tender skin.

You moaned loudly, tensing at first when his lips found your throat, making the older man curse under his breath when you tightened around him.

“Shit, kid. You feel fucking amazing.” His breath tickled at your neck and you squirmed beneath him as you tried to adjust to the pressure between your legs.

Rafe’s free hand came to your throat, squeezing tight as he tilted his hips back and then slammed into you.

You whined, closing your eyes in surprise, pain outweighing the pleasure at first. His fingers twitched around your throat as he felt your walls grow slicker and he was able to fuck you faster.

Delirious waves of ecstasy clouded your mind, his thick cock stretched you out in a way that made your head spin.

Rafe’s grip on your throat tightened and you reached for his wrist, hoping that his hold on you would relent, but the older man just took it as a sign to rut into you harder.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, losing yourself in the rhythm of his pace, greedily grinding your hips to bring yourself closer to the edge.

When his free hand crept between your legs and his thumb began rubbing circles over your clit, you whined, opening your legs for him more so he could fuck you deeper and massage your clit easier.

“Daddy- I’m- fuck-” you mindlessly babbled between moans, already feeling your mind go blank with each snap of his hips.

“Yeah?” He groaned when he felt you pulse around him. “Gonna cum on this dick like daddy’s good girl?”

Alarm bells should have been sounding in your head, but in the moment, you cared too much about chasing pleasure rather than facing consequences to resist.

So you obeyed him.

You whimpered as you came undone, the wave of pleasure washing over you again and again as the blond pushed his cock into you relentlessly. Your body sagged against the bed, head lolling back as you rode out your orgasm.

Rafe could feel your walls pulsing and constricting around him, squeezing his cock so tight it almost hurt him.

He bit back a curse before reaching one of his strong arms behind your back, staying inside you the entire time as he pulled you up off the bed and onto his lap. Your legs fell to the side of his as he rutted into you from below.

The new position had your quaking thighs squeezing against him, and you wrapped an arm over his shoulder and around his back in an attempt to steady yourself. The change of angle made your head spin and you whimpered in pain as he split you open with his dick.

Rafe’s lips hungrily captured yours and your stomach flipped when he forced his tongue into your mouth, holding your head in place to kiss you deeper as he fucked you up and down on his cock.

When he broke the kiss, you both gasped for air, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten, “Fuck, kid. How’d I get so lucky?”

You couldn’t answer him, so lost in matching the movement of his hips that you couldn’t think about anything else.

His lips found your neck, nipping and kissing the tender skin to pull more moans from you.

“So perfect, sweetheart. M’ gonna fill you up,” he whispered into your throat between kisses.

At his words, you remembered why you had resisted in the first place, eyes widening as you squirmed in his lap. Rafe’s pace only increased as he locked his arm around your waist, pressing you against his bare chest and stopping you from pulling away as he pounded into you.

“Rafe- red light-!” you were cut off when his big hand covered your mouth, and you helplessly squealed against him.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, kid,” he snapped and you felt yourself unconsciously clench around him.

The older man drilled into you, stretching you out with each punishing thrust.

“Fuck- fuck!” He groaned, squeezing you against his chest as his hips stuttered and he came undone inside you.

You whined as you felt his hot seed flood your walls. Trying to get off of him proved fruitless when he held you in place and forced you to milk his cock of every drop.

The sticky feeling of his cum dripping down his cock deep inside of you was inescapable and you shuddered when he lightly bucked his hips to thrust himself up inside you again.

“Still think I need viagra, you fucking brat?”

[kakashisbabymama218]

Seven days a week: day 1

Kakashi x fem!reader.

smut, oral (fem!rec) mulitple orgasms, overstimulation, cervix fucking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, crying, mentions of crack (lmfao nobody smokes crack in this i promise)

*okay so this is my first time writing in almost a year, so hopefully im not too outta wack and this doesnt suck assholes.

“K-Kashiii— it’s too much… too deep” you cry out, hands pushing at Kakashi's toned stomach in a futile attempt to get him to slow down.

Kakashi ignores your cries, still pressing feather light kisses against your neck before sucking down on one of the hickeys that already cover the expanse of your neck. his pace never falters as he slams into you with so much speed and force your pushed up further and further on the bed each time his hips meet yours.

after a particularly rough mission that ended with Kakashi being hurt, lady Tsunade ordered the copy ninja to take a week off to recover and Kakashi planned to spend the entire week fucking you so good the only thought left in that pretty little head of yours was about how good his dick feels as it drags along your gummy walls.

“Shh, shh… you can take it." he murmured against your ear. "you gonna be my good girl and take every inch daddy has to offer, right?" he questions as his tip kisses your cervix over and over again, voice deep and low.

you're so fucked out at the point you don't know whether to nod or shake your head. you want to be good, you really do but you're already on your third orgasm of the night and you can barely keep your eyes open at this point. Kakashi looks like he's barely broken a sweat, damn him and his years of ninja training, his stamina being one of the things you love and hate the most about him.

“But it’s too much” you whine loudly, your walls clenching tightly around his fat cock, and he groans against your ear, hips stilling as he attempts holds himself back, wanting to drag the feeling of you walls fluttering around his dick for as long as he can, never knowing when he's going to be called away for another long mission.

he might have to go without the feeling of your tight cunt clenching down on him for days, weeks, maybe even months, so he's going to get his fill now and he doesnt care how hard you cry or how much you beg.

"just a little bit longer princess then we can take a break, just let me fuck you for a little while longer"

Kakashi pulls out until nothing but his tip his being swallowed by your greedy cunt, slamming his hips against yours and swallowing down the screams that fall from your lips.

"even after taking my dick over and over again, you're still so. fucking. tight" he grunts out the last three words, accompanying them with a sharp slam of his hips.

you're eyes flutter shut as your pushed over the edge once again, your body shaking and convulsing as your fourth orgasm rips through you. your legs wrap around Kakashi's waist, grinding clit against him as you ride out your orgasm.

"mmmpf—fuckkkk" Kakashi groans, pulling out at the very last second and wrapping his hand tightly around his dick, stopping the orgasm he knew was coming. he pushes your legs up, your feet dangling by your ears and gathers spit in his mouth.

he spits directly on your cunt, smirking to himself as he hears the guttural moan that slips past your lips. he watches as his spit drips from your clit down your slit and pools at your gaping entrance. he takes your swollen, sensitive clit into his mouth and sucks down... hard

your hands fly to his long silver strands as you push and pull at his hair, so high off the pleasure you're not sure if you want him to stop or keep going.

"K-kas...Kashi...Kashiiii" you slur, his name falling off of your lips over and over again like a mantra. Kakashi lets his tongue circle around your hole before pushing it in as deep as it'll go, his nose rubbing against your clit.

Kakashi slurps and sucks at your cunt, moaning against your puffy folds, the sweet taste of your slick on his tonuge is addictive, like crack in the 80s. (im so unserious its crazy)

he has to force his face away from your cunt when your cries get louder, more high pitched, and your grip on his hair tightens almost painfully, the telltale signs that you're close and Kakashi wants you to the two of you to cum together.

he strokes himself once, then twice before he's pushing his way past your entrance and into your gummy walls once again. it doesnt take long for his orgasm to approach once again. he brings one of his hands down and uses two of his fingers to rub fast, hard circles on your sticky clit.

a few more thrusts and you're crying out, toes curling, back arching off the bed as you cum for the fifth time, except this time your squirting on Kakashi's dick. the feeling of your slick flowing from you and onto Kakashi's length is what finally makes him cum. his thick, sticky seed paints your walls a delicious shade of white and when he eventually pulls out it drips from your pussy down to your ass and onto the soft, light blue sheets below you.

"shit" he hisses quietly, letting his forehead rest against yours, eyes glued to where the two of you connect, pushing his entire length back inside of you ignoring how sensitive he is, waiting to feel your walls wrapped around him just a little while longer.

I WROTE THIS, ME MYSELF AND I!!! dont steal my shit!!!!!

[jenosbigtoe]

THE REQUEST OF THE BABY TRAPPING AND JISUNG!!!!!! I WANT TO KISS THAT ANON FOR THERE PRETTY MIND

when you said you are thinking about it with jeno and jaemin like can you write one for jeno because it had been on my mind all time🤭🤭

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: sugar daddy!lee jeno x reader

warnings: sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, dubcon, filthy rich silver fox jen, daddy kink, possessiveness, unspecified age gap (~15 yrs…), babytrapping, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: this made me want to write a longer one shot so that’s also in the making rn!! enjoy this drabble for now tho 💋

jeno would do anything for you.

you were his precious baby, whom he spoiled absolutely rotten. he gave you unlimited access to his credit cards, bought you thousands in expensive luxuries goods like designer bags and shoes, took you around the world in getaway vacations, and paraded you around on his arm as his woman. and all he asked for in return was for you to love him and be devoted to him just as he was to you.

he didn’t care if he was “too old for a young woman like you”. you were both perfectly consenting adults. if anything, you seemed to love being spoiled by an older man. you loved to run your hands through his jet black hair with strands of silver running through. you loved to kiss the fine lines starting to form around his eyes and forehead. and you loved to tell him how men your age could never treat you with the respect and care he does.

you were more than just a sugar baby to him. but your relationship was complicated. to you, he was more than a sugar daddy but less than a boyfriend. he wanted you to officially be his and had asked you many times before to be his woman. but every time, you declined. your reasoning being you were both happy in your arrangement and you didn’t want to ruin any of that.

he never liked that you weren’t officially his and he was finally going to change that. the best and only way he knew how.

“dadddyyy!!” you cried, fat tears rolling down your face and making a mess of your makeup. you hugged a pillow close to your chest and buried your sobs into it as jeno pounded his fat cock relentlessly into your poor cunt from behind. as many times as you’ve taken his cock, you could almost never get used to how long and thick he was, stretching you out and reaching places no one else had before. it seemed with every thrust, he was trying to beat down your womb.

he used one hand to press on the small of your back, arching it so his cock could reach even deeper inside your cunt as his other hand pulled your hair back to force your head up from the pillow so he could hear every cry, scream, and moan coming from your pretty lips. his hips pounded relentlessly into yours, your cunt leaking arousal around his shaft and sucking him back in with every thrust.

he leaned down to speak lowly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “my baby fuckin loves it rough huh? all that screaming and crying when your cunt is so messy and so tight for daddy.”

you choked out another sob and pushed your ass back on his thrusts, pleasure overwhelming all of your senses. he groaned at your movement and started rutting his hips even faster against yours.

he was filling your little cunt so much, you couldn’t even think straight. you felt your core tighten and your pussy clench harder around his pounding cock when your orgasm suddenly flooded your senses and blanked out your mind. your cunt was leaking and spasming uncontrollably while he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

“fuck baby i’m close too,” he groaned from behind you. “m gonna cum in this pussy, fill you up full.”

before you could tell him, wait! it’s not safe! he suddenly bottomed out and shot his hot load right into your warm cunt. he filled you with every last drop of his milky hot load until it started leaking out because you were already so full.

“jeno! i can get pregnant!!” you were starting to panic but he shushed you and pulled you tight against his sweaty chest in a spooning position, never once pulling out.

you tried breaking free from his embrace but he was much too strong for you. he kept one arm locking you to his chest and he moved his other hand to rest on your lower stomach.“wouldn’t you look so pretty with our baby?”

“jen-“ he shut you up with a deep kiss pressed against your lips.

“you’re mine now.”

@jenomov had to tag my jenhoe bc it’s been a while since i’ve written for baby daddy

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x single mom!reader

Summary: When you go to steal a silver case from the Twins, they quickly realize you're under duress.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: protective!tangerine, mentions of coercion and kidnapping, cursing, crying

~ @kpopgirlbtssvt hi lovie!! here it is! hope you like it xx ~

April, your almost one-year-old, is currently tucked in your arms as you try to console her.

She won't calm down and you've been assuming the train's lights are too shiny for her small eyes since she's been inconsolable for the last hour. "Honey, shh," you try again, caressing her round cheeks.

"Hello." Your thoughts are interrupted by a calm voice as a young girl sits in front of you. Her short brown hair is cut neatly into a bob and she's wearing a pink shirt and skirt. She looks well-groomed. "Your baby is adorable," she comments, glancing at April. 

"Thank you," you say, smiling as you bounce April on your lap now—the movement calming her a little as her cries turn into small breathy babbling sounds.

After a moment, the girl continues. "I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you, but have you seen a silver case somewhere around here? My Uncle seems to have misplaced it," the girl's smile falters as if looking for sympathy, "It's very important to me," she finishes, her eyebrows creasing as her lips downturn into a pout.

You shake your head.

She urges you, "Could you perhaps help me look then?" She leans in closer as she runs her hand under April's chin, her demeanor more insistent now. 

Your smile falters and you turn April away, your hand on her back, as your motherly instincts kick in. Something is wrong. "I'm so sorry. I would help only," you begin, holding April closer. 

Your answer is interrupted as the girl scowls, "I'll pay you," she says.

Pay you? Your mind races as you wonder why this girl would pay you for your help. What's in this case that warrants such attention? Once you shake your head again, the girl's calm energy vanishes. 

"Well, this is a shame, hmm?" her tone suddenly shifts and she smiles cruelly as she crosses her legs. The table that's separating you and her comes in handy as it hides the weapon she produces and presses against your knee.

She angles the gun upwards and you tense your arms around April, holding her even closer. April squirms, sensing your worry. 

"Please," you whisper, looking around the train. None of the other passengers seem preoccupied by your predicament. They aren't even looking in your direction.

You want to scream, but you have a feeling if you do so, this girl wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. "Please don't hurt my baby," you say, fear settling inside you.

The girl tilts her head and chuckles. She taps the gun on your knee, making you flinch. "Hmm, you see, you're just the girl for this. Men underestimate girls like us—

They'll never see you coming—a vulnerable little thing like you, with something so precious to lose—you would do anything for your baby, would you?" She smiles at April. 

"Please," you sound like a broken record, "what do you want from me?"

"Is your baby's daddy around?"

You want to lie but you're too scared so you shake your head. 

"Pff, men—bastards, hmm?" The girl laughs and then she turns serious. "Now listen closely, if you don't want me to blow you and your baby to bits, you'll do exactly as I say," she pauses and her smirk turns sinister,

"Understand?" 

* * *

You feel like you're in a trance as your shaky hands hold the gun behind you. You walk into the train car, looking for the men the girl had insisted took her case from her.

You feel a little exposed as the buttons from your chemise have been slightly unbuttoned to reveal your bra and the girl had made you let down your hair. 

Go for the sex appeal and you'll have men at your feet, she'd promised.

However, you don't care how stupid you look. All you care about is April. April, who the girl has promised you she wouldn't harm if you did as you were told. April, who had started to scream again when you'd placed her in the seat next to the cruel stranger and who had continued to cry as you disappeared from her view.

Your poor baby.

You try not to cry now. You don't want your mascara to run and ruin your cover. You hold your head up, glancing at all the passengers as you walk by. 

Twins. You were looking for Twins—that should be easy enough. 

You walk slower, only catching fragments of conversations, until suddenly you walk by two men.

One is adjusting his stripped blue vest, his brown hair messy and his face smeared in bruises and blood.

The other, who looks nothing like the first, is holding onto a silver case. Your breath hitches when you hear the man exclaim, "Some fucker had this in his arms when I bumped into 'im—what are the odds, huh? Maybe it is our lucky day, bruv!"

You pause. They don't look like Twins, but in all honesty that means nothing—they have the case.

You take a breath and shut your eyes, turning around and hiding the gun in the flow of your skirt. You walk up to them, your eyes landing on your target as you 'accidentally' trip and fall onto the man in blue's lap.

"What the fuck?!" The man exclaims. It's an honest reaction to some random girl falling onto you. His British accent is thick and your cheeks burn as you stare into his blue eyes. Suddenly, your entire ruse threatens to crumble as your hands shake. You try to shift and press the gun to the man's stomach—like you'd been told.

April, think of April.

"She has a gun," the other man whisper-shouts and this sets the man you'd landed on into action as he hastily grabs your wrists, his other hand gripping at your waist as he shoves you off of him and corners you in the other seat, you back pressed to the wall as he twists your hand.

You yelp in pain, dropping the gun as your tears now fall freely. You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting a blow or a hit of some kind as your chest heaves.

None come.

"Her hand is trembling, Lemon." You hear and hesitantly open your eyes. The man holding your wrist has turned to his friend, Lemon, and is showing him the shake in your hand.

Lemon looks you over and settles in his seat again. "Poor bird's shakin' in general," he points out, confusion evident in his voice.

The first man tugs on your arm to pull your eyes to him. You look up, body still pressed up against the window as one of your legs dangles from the seat and off his thighs.

You don't dare move as the man looks like he wants to kill you. "What are ya doin' with this," he snarls, shaking the gun to scare you but then he hands it to his friend. "Who the fuck are ya? Some fuckin' hooker tryin' to play assassin?" He looks you up and down in your little outfit and you feel humiliated.

You shake your head. Assassin. The word rings in your ear. "I'm sorry," you cry breathlessly, "Please. I'm so sorry, please—she has my baby,"

You're a sobbing mess at this point, your voice trembling and hoarse. "She has my baby-"

Lemon speaks up when the man doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist. "Tangerine," he hisses, "she's sobbing. Something's wrong, mate."

Tangerine looks at Lemon sternly and then turns his attention back to you. You feel the tears spill down your cheeks as he stares and then he drops your wrist.

In an instant, you scramble to press yourself further against the wall and sit normally. You hastily button up your shirt, sex appeal be damned. 

"Someone put ya up to this, didn't they?" Tangerine asks, his eyes softening just a little as he calms himself down. "Does someone have your baby?" he is trying to make sense of the word vomit that had just happened. 

"Yes, s-she took my baby. I- I don't know what to do anymore. Please don't hurt me," you plead. Tangerine's eyebrows furrow. He looks at Lemon and they seem to have a conversation—or perhaps an argument—with their eyes. 

"Lemon, my brother," Tangerine says after a moment, Lemon's lips curving as he clearly won whatever had just happened between them,

"And I'm Tangerine," he looks you up and down again. "We aren't gonna hurt ya, darlin'. Promise," he says as he runs a hand in his hair and then down his jaw, "And we're gonna help you find your baby, okay? No need to worry." 

You stare at him, you have no desire to question their weird names as you are still a little afraid of them, but you nod anyway. They're your only chance of saving April from the hands of the cruel girl. You tell them your name. You have to trust them.

So, you find yourself in the train bathroom, Tangerine hooking something to your ear. His hands work through your hair as he connects the earpiece to the one in his ear. He looks so concentrated and you can't help but stare at him. 

He's handsome.

"I'll be able to hear ya through this, ok?" Tangerine's voice cuts your thoughts and you nod at him. You must still look scared because he adds, "Lemon and I will be around the corner, all ya need is to distract her so she doesn't see us coming, understand?"

You nod again and Tangerine's eyebrow raises. He wants to hear you.

"I understand—thank you," you say, voice still trembling. This earns you a smirk and one last check to your earpiece as his fingertips skim the skin around your ear. He looks into your eyes as he hides the device behind your hair.  

"Good girl," he whispers and the words roll off his tongue naturally. They take you by surprise as your heart leaps in your chest. Tangerine clears his throat, not giving you the chance to dwell on them as he opens the bathroom door and sends Lemon a nod to follow you. 

You try to keep up the appearance of confidence as you walk back to your original seat, the case in your hand. You've been playing the story in your head; They'd left it unattended. I took it from their seats. You don't know if that sounds convincing.

You check behind you subtly and see that the Twins have stayed in the room between the compartments and are waiting for you to distract the girl. You let out a scared breath that Tangerine must hear because his voice echoes in your ear. 

You'll be fine. We're right behind you. 

When you see the girl, her back is turned to you, and you see April's small legs hanging from the seat as she sits in the girl's lap. Your heart is pounding as you make your way to them.

April seems overjoyed to see you and your heart breaks when you see the tears-stains on your baby's face. Your expression hardens as you put the case on the table and sit in front of the girl. 

"Ah, you found it," the girl smiles, caressing April's hair. "You know, we don't compliment mothers enough. Your baby would not stop screaming—it was becoming annoying. The little rascal did tired himself out eventually because he almost fell asleep."  

"She. Her name is April," you say without thinking, jaw clenched. "I did what you asked, can I have my daughter back now?"

The girl looks down at the case but shakes her head, "Mm, no. You may not. I still need your help. Come with me," the girl smirks and stands. She is still holding April in her arms and your breathing has become heavy. You try not to make any expression at all when you see Tangerine and Lemon stealthily approach the girl from behind. 

You hear her surprised gasp as Tangerine grips her arm and you assume he presses his gun to her lower back because she suddenly tenses.

"Hand her the baby, now," he says in a throaty whisper. He isn't asking. The girl frowns and her hand clenches around April for a moment.

With the commotion, April wails and without hesitation—and the security that Tangerine won't let this girl harm you—you swoop in and cradle April in your arms. 

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here, my love," you whisper into April's head as tears freely escape your eyes once again. Tangerine's gun is still pressed to the girl's back as Lemon swoops in and takes the case once more.

You're too busy with April to hear their conversation and eventually, Lemon grabs the girl and ushers her away. 

Tangerine remains, his eyes unusually soft as he observes you and April. He walks closer, but not too close. He doesn't want to scare April—he tends to scare babies, especially when he's as disheveled as he is now. 

You see him and instantly you walk to him and, holding April with one arm, you wrap the other one around his shoulder as you lean up to kiss his cheek. You seem less terrified now that you have your baby and Tangerine's cheeks flush as he feels your lips against his skin.

He doesn't pull away from you. 

"Thank you," you say, your hand sliding down his cheek, lingering there for a moment too long, and then you back away. "I can't ever thank you and Lemon enough," you bounce April on your hip and she giggles. She stares at Tangerine and suddenly reaches out to him with her small hand. 

Tangerine's eyes widen and he looks at you for permission. You nod.

He reaches out and April holds out her small hand to wrap around his finger. She makes a small giggling sound again as she babbles—"She's saying thank you too," you beam in amusement, kissing April's temple. 

"She's absolutely beautiful," Tangerine says, smiling fondly. You grin, your attention fully on your daughter, that you haven't noticed the way Tangerine's blue eyes stay locked onto yours as he says the words. 

April drops Tangerine's hand and you hold her tightly. "Can Lemon and I help ya find your way off this train, luv? Ya do have somewhere safe to go, right?" Tangerine asks plainly, feeling weirdly protective over you and the little baby in your arms. 

You think for a moment, still breathless from what had happened. This train doesn't feel safe anymore. You feel so out of your depth. You were supposed to visit some friends, but you'd missed your stop, and anyways none of that matters anymore.

You'd almost lost April and if you hadn't met them—you gaze at Tangerine—you don't know what you would have done to save her. 

You shake your head and Tangerine's eyes narrow. "Well, that's a problem, innit?" he says and runs a hand in his hair. He stands tall, glancing over his shoulder to see if Lemon's finished taking care of the girl who'd threatened you and April. 

"You wanna stay with us?" Tangerine asks calmly, looking into your eyes. "Lem and I are gettin' off now. We have what we wanted, and we ain't gonna stick around this train to find out what happens if we do. Come with us. We'll keep you and April safe. Promise." 

Although his words feel like a pretty, empty, shiny promise, you accept them anyway. You don't have many choices at the moment and Lemon and Tangerine tell you they have what they call a safe house in the area, which sounds better than a cheap motel.  

* * *

However, a week later, you still haven't left said safe house. 

Lemon had explained that it wasn't safe to travel yet, that he and Tangerine needed more time to settle their affairs before they could easily travel again—especially with April around now. You don't know what that means, only that Lemon and Tangerine often come back from their "affairs" bloodied and bruised. 

You'd just finished cleaning Lemon's head wound when you hear April giggling from her play mat in the middle of the living room.

Lemon stands from the couch, his grin widening as he exclaims, "My turn to watch the lil' angel! Tan needs his abdomen wound checked anyway," Lemon wastes no time in sitting next to April and showing her the Thomas The Tank Engine figurine he'd gotten her. 

You smile and move towards where Tangerine sits in the armchair in the corner. You turn to him and your eyes widen a little. You're thankful for all the months you spent in medical school before you became pregnant with April because Tangerine looks awful.

His left eye is swollen shut, he has blood dripping from his lip, and he's lifting his shirt for you to look at the deep—while still not deep enough to need stitches—gash near his ribs (which is also black and blue from bruising). He isn't looking at you, a faint tint of pink adorning his cheeks. 

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, crouching down and rummaging in the first aid kit on the ground. 

"Hmm," Tangerine hums, still refusing to look at you. 

It must hurt him because he flinches when you apply some alcohol to the wound and bandage him up. You try to ignore that you're touching his chest, or how his skin feels under your hands. It feels entirely inappropriate to ogle your wounded patient. 

Again, good thing you never actually became a nurse.

"So, you're a nurse?" Tangerine suddenly grunts, looking at you with lidded eyes as you move up to inspect how badly his eye is hurt. 

You shake your head, smiling. "No. April came around in the middle of medical school and I had to drop out," you smile and prod at his cheek, earning a wince and you mumble a small "sorry."

"Ya still know what you're doin', yeah?" Tangerine raises his eyebrow in question and winces again, which makes you chuckle. You apply some ointment to his eye. 

"I paid attention in class, yes. I probably couldn't operate on you, but I can mend your black eye," you tease. Tangerine stares at you and he smirks. 

"Good," he looks behind you and after a moment, "Lemon stole your baby," he deadpans.

You turn and see that Lemon must have taken April to the room the Twins had designated as hers. On the first night of your arrival, the Twins had gone all out and purchased all sorts of essentials for children and women. It was unexpected and sweet of them—so incredibly sweet. 

"She'll be fine," you laugh and then turn to Tangerine again. He's giving you that look; the one he's been giving you for the last day or two.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. "You know, don't tell Lemon, but you're April's favorite," you say as you clean up the materials you had used on his wounds. 

"I am?" Tangerine asks, looking genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah," you nod, "she's starting to babble something that sounds awfully similar to 'Tan'." 

"Ah," Tangerine seems happy by this development and you smile. There is a moment of silence as you watch him. You're still kneeling next to him and his shirt is still half-bunched up around his torso. Your chest tightens and you hear Tangerine swallow. 

"Is April's dad—" he starts and you finish for him, 

"In the picture?" 

A pause. Tangerine nods and you shake your head. "Nah," you shrug, "Left as soon as he heard I was pregnant. He wanted to continue medical school without any complications. He's probably some fancy doctor or some shit by now, I wouldn't know. I don't talk to him anymore."

"Dickhead," you hear Tangerine suddenly grumble, and then his hand finds your chin. He lifts your head and his eyes lock with yours. "He's a fool for leavin' ya. He doesn' know what he's missing," he says as his thumb caresses your lower lip. "Ya understand? He's a fool."

You nod, entranced as your heart continues to panic in your chest. When Tangerine finally drops your chin, you clear your throat and stand.

He stands too and walks closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "Ya don't need to worry anymore, darlin'. Lem and I won't let anyone harm you or April. I won't let 'em touch a single hair on your pretty head," he breathes, his voice stern, and you feel his lips against your cheek for a fleeting moment until he moves and disappear upstairs. 

You're left standing in the living room, your heart pounding as you replay every word he'd said. Your skin feels warm and clammy. 

What have you gotten yourself into now?

[liketolovexx]

heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

[stairain]

Double-Edged Sword

The only way Spencer is allowed to fuck you is to wear a strap-on.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, strap-on (he’s wearing it!), vibrator, riding, crying, slapping, erectile dysfunction, female orgasm, male orgasm, degradation, self-doubt. 

WC: 1.6K

The poor man was already in tears by the time you had buckled him into the harness. Weak pleads for you to show some semblance of mercy as you pull the dark leather tight against his trembling thighs. 

“Please, please ‘m sorry.” 

Spencer cries out as he shamefully looks down at the strap-on that’s replaced his own aching cock. He’d been bad, of course, but this was pure cruelty. 

Ignoring his pleads, you wrap your lips around the head of the fake cock, the cold silicone shining against the wet buds of your tongue.

His eyebrows furrow in envy, wishing to replace the toy instead of the vice versa he's found himself in. 

"Please, it's not fair.."

Spencer's voice trails off as you shamelessly stroke the dildo as if it were real. Using your circled fist, you wet the toy with a droplet of your spit and jerk it off.

And despite his envy, he wishes so desperately that he could get hard. You’d locked his poor cock in a wretched metal cage, the cold silver bars preventing him from reaching even half mast. 

His thighs tremble from around your head, and you coo pitifully at him, your hand still torturously wrapped around the strap. 

“Poor thing, sit down, will you?”

Your voice beckons to him, raising your chin a bit as you gently push him back until his legs hit the bed frame. 

With a frustrated huff, he sits down against the soft comforter as you climbs atop him. His eyes shine with tears and pleas for you to stop whatever this punishment is.

The pupils reading apologies and lines of ‘I learned my lesson’ that you had no interest in. 

Pulling your panties to the side, you rub the sensitive bud of your clit over the artificial head of the cock that was everything but him. 

“Can you feel how wet I am?”

You taunt, looking Spencer right in those sad eyes filled with betrayal and jealousy. With your lips parted in soft sighs, you reach past him to retrieve the box that had contained the strap-on.

Your hand rustles in the cardboard for a moment, before you pull out a small controller no larger than your palm. Spencer swallowed thickly and tried to reason with you one last time.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.. Please just—“

A loud buzzing cuts him off, and his words plummet into a strained whine. Throwing his head back, a few tears run down his temples. 

As you grind your soaked folds against the tip, the double-sided toy was pressed right against the thin bars of his chastity cage. 

Spencer’s thighs squeezed together as the pain of not being able to get hard and the constant whirring of the vibrator quickly overwhelmed him. 

He lets out a slacked-jaw moan as the metal against his shaft shakes as frantically as his body. And you relish in the sight as you sink down onto thick, hard silicone.

You lean into the crook of his neck and press wet kisses against the sweaty skin, beginning to lift yourself up and down in his lap.

“You feel so good, Spence.”

You whisper in his ear, and he’s quick to turn his head away from you in the same kind of bratty manner that got him into this situation in the first place. 

He’s breathing heavily out of his nose, trying his hardest not to make any more noises. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing how badly he wished it was him you were riding so fervently. 

You hadn’t fucked him like this in a while, his chest ached slightly at the thought. Your drenched cunt greedily swallowing the whole toy in ways that he couldn’t help but tear up in envy over.

He missed when it was his cock that was being coated in that slick layer of white that you so easily granted to a stupid toy. 

The brunet was snapped out of his jealous fantasy when you’re turning up the vibration on his toy. His eyes involuntarily roll into the back of his skull and his mouth can’t help but unhinge to let out a loud whimper. 

The fake cock was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that only Spencer was allowed to find, and you grin evilly as you grab his loose jaw and force him to look at you. 

You’re just as sweaty as he is, but your eyes aren’t filled with remorse like his are. 

“See what happens when you act out?”

You rhetorically ask before you slap him across his already red cheeks. His head quickly turns with the force, and he lets out a quiet gasp. 

Grabbing his jaw again, you’re quick to reprimand him once more.

“Thinking you can misbehave and still get what you want.”

You slap his face in the opposite direction and feel the tracks of tears that coat his face. 

As you circle your hips and ride the strap even faster, all it takes is one look and he knows you’re close. He shakes his head and tries to speak, but he just can’t.

He doesn’t want a toy to make you finish, that should be him. It should be his cock that you’re grinding so hard on, his length that you should be tightening around, and his tip that should be stamping into your spot. 

But instead, he’s forced to watch with a flaccid cock and heavy balls as you throw your head back and cum around slickened silicone.

Your release leaks around the dildo and onto his thighs, and that’s the only semblance of your pleasure he’s been allowed to feel. As your slick drips down his skin, tears stream down his face. 

And that stupid vibrator underneath his cock is unrelenting, he’s so turned on but can’t do a thing about it. 

With a heaving chest and lowered eyelids, you lift yourself up off his lap.

The toy bobs with the freedom from your cunt and dribbles with the pleasure of your orgasm. 

Spencer’s absolutely breathless as you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him. Strands of his hair stick to his face, and he can barely muster up the courage to look you in the eye.

Your face is a blur to him as you lick up your release from the fake cock, wrapping your wet lips around the shaft and swallowing your own slick. 

With a whimper, he closes his eyes and prays for this to be over. You’ve made your point, he’s easily replaceable, he needs to get his shit together.

But you’re not nearly done with him, not as you’re undoing the straps of leather as you suck off his replacement. 

You release the harness from his body and let it drop to the floor. The incessant buzzing from the toy still ringing in the air, taunting him.

The dual purpose toy had given everything to you, and he’d gotten nothing out of it. He was nothing without you, and you could have everything without him. 

Spencer’s head is clouded with sexual frustration and self disgust alike as you make quick work of fetching the key to his dear chastity cage. 

Twisting the small key into the lock, the cage becomes undone and you pull it off of him. 

But even as you discard the contraption, his soft cock lay before you in a pathetic display of uselessness. 

With gentle hands, you reach out to cup his small bulge. There’s a sick smile on your face as you pour up at him. 

“Look at you.. How could you have ever made me feel as good as that toy did?”

He huffs and tries his best to reason with you. He was certain he was better than that toy, he just couldn’t prove it. 

“I can.”

He says matter of factly, but as you nestle his lack of erection, he’s proven himself inferior. There’s an excuse dying on the tip of his tongue the moment he gets distracted by the soft caresses you deal to his flaccid length. 

It feels so good, but he simply couldn’t get hard. The cage had rendered him useless for your pleasures.

“It’s okay, Spence. We can just use the strap from now on..”

You softly murmur as you run your thumb against the soft head of his cock. The pathetic little thing leaks a drop of sticky precum, and you swirl it around as you can physically feel his refusal to your suggestion. 

“N-No. I’m better than that thing, please..”

He whines gently, having been broken down by whatever mind games you’ve played with him. 

Maybe the toy was better than him. At least it stayed hard, and at least it wasn’t about to cum from just a few soft touches. 

There’s a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, and a tingling in his pathetic little cock that he simply can’t ignore. 

Spencer tries his absolute hardest to hold out, but before you’ve even got a chance to rebuttal his pleads, a shaky moan forces its way from his throat as he spills over your thumb and pointer finger. 

As hot droplets of cum coat your fingers, you sigh almost disappointingly and watch as his release covers his soft length. 

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry.” 

He pitifully whispers as his entire body trembles with the aftershocks of a sorry excuse for an orgasm. 

The toy that resides the role of his rival mocks him. Vibrating gently against the wooden floors that his sticky ribbons drip onto. 

You stand up slowly and press a kiss against his tear stained cheek, knowing that he’d be on his best behavior from here on out.

[konigsblog]

Hi orla i lovee your workk <33

May i req a scenario where enemy side!könig fucks reader under the threat that he'll kill her team otherwise?? :3

LITTLE MOUSE, DON'T RUN.

könig x afab!f!reader

synopsis: your enemy finally gets his way with you, after months of dreaming of your torture.

tw: NON-CON, DUB-CON, threats, manipulation & coercion, kidnapping. dead dove: do not eat. photo credit: @ave661

translation: “davon habe ich geträumt, meine kleine maus. um deinen hübschen körper zu vergewaltigen... ich sehe dich immer, wie du über das feld rennst. scheiße, ich wollte dich nur in deine schranken weisen.” = (i've been dreaming of this, my little mouse. to rape your pretty body... i always see you, running across the field. fuck, i just want to put you in your place.)

you really didn't wanna be the reason your entire team would be murdered, slaughtered by the enemies. you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, your eyes wavering with tears filling your waterline, body trembling as he waits, sharpening his knife with a hungry gaze. he had kidnapped you after finding you laying against a tree, your thigh aching from being shot. you were positive he was going to kill you, then and there, but könig had other ideas.

he brought you into a basement, with the threat being if you didn't follow along with his orders and demands, he'd kill you, before killing your teammates as well. you began to drop your clothing, falling around your feet on the ground. you whimpered when he took a step forward, his silver eyes revealing malice and delirium.

“that’s right, follow along now... bend over for me, over the table.”

you bend over the table, your cheek pressed against the wood, the sound of him unfastening his belt causing you to shake and weep quietly, sniffling from fear. parting your thighs, the feeling of his hard, bulbous cock running over your folds causes your body to react instinctively, betraying you. a tear rolls down your cheek at the wetness, feel almost... ashamed for your body enjoying this torture.

“are you sure you don’t want this? or are you just secretly a filthy girl, my dear? you’d like to me rape this cunt for hours on end, ja? wouldn’t you?” he chuckles, a hoarse growl emitting from deep in his chest as he begins to prod at your hole, pushing inside gently.

your walls pulse and throb, clenching around the tip of his hard cock as he eases further inside. he leans down, his brute chest pressed firmly against your body, using his weight to pin you down, while cupping his gloved hand over your mouth to muffle your screams and cries.

“take it, take me deep, little mouse...” he whispers quietly, his voice guttural as he groans lowly, pushing nearly fully inside while your thighs shake and tremble, body aching underneath his bodyweight.

you want no more, but your body craves and longs for his rough touch, making you feel idiotic for sobbing so pathetically. under his gaze, you're weak and defenceless — i mean, you can't even squirm due to his heavy weight! fighting him off would only worsen the effects and his brutality; his cruelty. german curse words flow from his mouth as his broad hips meet your ass, your eyes watering and glistening, your pussy swallowing and forced open, to take each inch of the large, threatening man's cock.

“don’t cry, there is no need to act like you don’t want this.”

könig taunts you as he tightens his grip on your jaw, muffling your loud cries and choked moans, eyes wide with fear and pain, pleasure causing you gut to swirl, for your core to tighten and your stomach to churn.

your body aches, the pressure against your now weakened body has you breathless, your breathing restricted from each hard thrust. your cheeks become glossy with your tears, lips quivering from the ache, and your pussy getting slicker the more he fucks you. you're forced to listen to his pleasured, laboured breathing, your tight cunt feeling like heaven for him whilst his big cock, forced deep inside you, feels like torture. your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion, no longer fighting it, your hand weakly gripping his wrist. the impact and force of his broad hips against your ass has you shaking, pussy swelling up fron this abuse, while his balls press themselves against your tight ass.

“davon habe ich geträumt, meine kleine maus. um deinen hübschen Körper zu vergewaltigen... ich sehe dich immer, wie du über das feld rennst. scheiße, ich wollte dich nur in deine schranken weisen..”

he begins to pound into your ass, fucking you with a purpose as he unleashes all his built up rage onto you, your breathing getting caught in your throat as he slams into you on repeat, making sure to hear your every scream for mercy and forgiveness.

you're bleeding, crimson coating your thighs, rolling down in pearly beads. your body aches, sore and tired, and the repetitive force against your body causes you to wail out with frustration, tears streaming your cheeks, sobbing from all the pain. the feeling of his tip against your cervix has you shaking, feeling so full with his large, veiny size stuffed deep inside your hole. you can sense he's getting closer, to releasing, and all you hope for is that he won't cum inside you, that he'll pull out. könig's thrusts become sloppy, inching even deeper inside you, your eyes closed despite the rough and intense sensation of his tip smacking against your gummy insides.

könig's places both his hands on your waist and hips, pushing fully inside, cumming deep inside your swollen folds, one last cry leaving your lips. your voice becomes strained and sore from all the screaming and sobbing, the ache between your thighs only intensifying when he eases out, growling out at the sight of your bruised cunt.

you hope that he'll let you go, force you outside on two wobbly legs, to fend for yourself. but instead, you're chained to the wall, his obsession with hurting you only growing, your body bare, bruised and covered in dried cum and blood, to be used as his sex slave for what will feel like an eternity.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 

“Did he do that?” He asked. 

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 

 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 

 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 

It was fake as hell, but it worked. 

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  

 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 

xXx 

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 

They really were looking for someone. 

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them. 

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order.