#i opened alone (we are so fucking understaffed)

[wellthatschaotic]

neurotypicals are so frustrating,, i keep forgetting that "can you do x" means "go do x"

[fandomwritingbit]

Caught out pt.2

William afton x fem reader x henry emily

A/n: Hiii, this is a part two of this fic I did a while ago. It's really long ngl over 7,000 words. To the person that requested a part two to this that focused more on the relationship between Henry and Will, I took some inspiration from that so thank you very muchly. I hope this reads well, I'll be editing it over the next few days because writer's block is shagging me hard rn.

Warnings: smut, oral, unprotected sex, inappropriate relationships, sexual tension between henry and william, y/n is absolute filth.

The day after Henry had debased himself, started off pretty shit. The restaurant was fully booked all day and it felt like there were over a million kids tearing through the building and creating havoc, along with many other reasons for the two co-owners to stay back after hours. They were so understaffed, two waiters and an entertainer had called in sick, forcing Henry and Will to step up a bit. Well, Henry stepped up, running plates, hosting, the works; William, though he was present, just cracked the whip on the employees that were there. Both had contemplated getting you out of the security office to help out, but the plethora of legal challenges they’d seen in the previous few weeks dissuaded them.

“Who’s fault is this?” William caught Henry’s arm, his expression as fumingly stoic as it had been so far all day. It was this side of William that initially drove Henry into merging with him, the no-nonsense, no-bullshit, pragmatic approach that he was too nice to use. When they were newly joined, grabbing his arm like this would have made Henry shit scared, just the sheer height of the man alone would’ve done it; now though, Henry just looked from his hand to Will’s face, scoffing. 

“Tiff was on bookings, I’m gonna have a word with her.” He pulled his arm free, “You do know, William, that we can’t have high numbers and easy service.”  

William sniggered, slightly surprised by Henry’s attitude, “Functional service would be nice, though.” 

~

All shit hit the fan about midday. 

And it hit the fan big time. A party of thirty and one of seventeen at the same time had all hands on deck, waiters sweating making sure patrons had everything they needed, bar staff making so many drinks that there wasn’t a gap left on the bar, and Henry and William were trying to cope with everything in between. Namely, trying to keep kids out of staff-only areas or from running full pelt into the servers carrying food and drinks, and keeping feuding chefs calm in the kitchen. The latter Henry’s domain, for obvious reasons. So when the shifty looking fellow slipped inside the building, it went unnoticed. 

“Excuse me?” a woman’s shrill voice called to William, obligating him to approach the table. He didn’t smile at her because the look on her face said this wasn’t a ‘compliments to the chef’ kind of thing. 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“There’s plastic in my son’s pizza.” She pointed a thickly painted nail at the slice, showing the cling film sticking out underneath. Fuck’s sake.

He nodded, “Right. I’ll get you a new one.” As he spoke, he picked up the plate and the one with the rest of the pizza on it, cursing this whole fucking operation. 

“Got anything that doesn’t come out of a freezer?” she snapped, looking at him with such disapproval he felt a kid again. 

He just laughed at her. God, it was a £5 meal, she’s lucky they even heated it up for that. Neglecting to answer her, he gave a half-arsed apology and went towards the back kitchen to sort her out. 

Whilst this took place, a man with black gloves waited for the boy on the till to leave before wrenching the till open, shoving his hand inside to grab a fist-full of today’s earnings. The staff were too distracted to cop on, and alarm was only raised when the thief knocked into a server. 

“Hey what are you-” shoving her out the way, the figure moved towards the exit. The young lady got the attention of other staff who called out to the man but didn’t physically intervene, forcing the waitress to run to the kitchen and drag William out by his arm, babbling about what was happening.

He gave chase, following the thief out of the swinging doorway while the staff and patrons watched on in awe. It was at this point Henry burst out the kitchen as well, his face a mask of exasperation as he asked around to try and figure out what was going on. It seemed like no one really knew anything. No one knew where the day security guard was or how much money the thief had grabbed before bolting. 

“Fucking useless.” He mumbled under his breath, immediately kicking himself for how much he sounded like William.

It must have only been a couple of minutes before William walked back in, though it felt much longer. Henry looked to catch Will’s eye, quickly realising that he’d failed in the pursuit both the thief and the money by the slouching of his posture and the cut above his brow. He dabbed it with the side of his hand, smearing blood on his forehead. It was a sight and a half.

“You didn’t get him?” he kept his voice cautious, not wanting to send William over the edge.

He laughed, “Course I did. Fucker hit me and jumped in a car. I will say, he were well organised.” William winced again as he touched his cut, a streak of stark red trailing down the side of his face. Henry watched the movement thoughtfully, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen William like this, though usually he wasn’t sober. There was just something about it that made him feel deeply troubled and guilty. William Afton was powerful and scary. Handsome as the devil, everyone said it and the blood on his face tickled a part of Henry that he kept close to his chest and had done for years. 

Henry sighed, “You alright?” it’s asked nonchalantly but there is a tint of kindness on it. 

“Yeah. It’s going to keep bleeding though, you know what cuts to the face are like.” He again wiped the gash, the blood darkly pretty on his fingers. 

“No, no I don’t.” He shakes his head, he had too much sense to go about getting into fights. William just laughed, Henry's judgement always amused him. But his laughter died when Henry bluntly asked, “Don’t suppose you got a licence plate or anything?”

William’s face went stony, “Shit.” he muttered, feeling a little stupid but in fairness he was busy trying to catch the guy. The two were silent for a moment, the quiet awkward between them. Thankfully, it was broken when William again spoke, the idea hitting him out of nowhere, “The cameras. It wasn’t too far from the back doors, we might be able to get the plate on them.” 

Henry nodded, “Yeah I’ll go and check with y/n.” An odd weighty feeling fills the air at the mention of your name, a bizarre and new-found knowledge on the former’s part and gross pride on the other’s. He turns but stops still, “You should uh try and see how much they took. You know, look at the tickets and-”

“Yeah, I know how to do it, mate. Jesus.” he sniggers, not moving an inch out of principle, since when the fuck did Henry give him orders.

Exhaling through his nose, the sensible owner decides not to pursue what he’d asked him to do, hoping he’d comply without an argument, though what was more likely is that Henry would have to do that himself. He heads out the main restaurant and down the staff corridor, a growing feeling of anticipation at seeing you. He’s sure neither you or William know what he did, but the fear of discovery made him tense. 

Outside the security office door, he takes a breath before knocking, hating himself for being like this, if anyone should be ashamed it’s William, but as always he’s the one compensating. 

You open the door and are greeted by the pensive expression of Mr Emily, you knew exactly what he was going to ask and had been reviewing the footage yourself already. 

“Uh hey, y/n, can you show me the footage of the incident?” You step aside and let him into the cramped space, it’s a horrible office really, no windows and the monitor casting a grainy artificial light against the viewer. He would rather have you serving on the front but you insisted this was better because you, quote, ‘don’t want to deal with all the shit out there.’ End quote. 

“Yeah, sure. I had a look…” you speak whilst getting up the recording of the robbery, “but the fella has a hood up, you can’t see anything uh identifiable.” He glances at your face and is surprised to see you smiling, as you wind it back and play the recording for him. 

Your grin is pretty contagious and makes it hard to focus on the footage, “You find this funny?” His brow is narrowed, it’s not asked nastily more curiously. 

“The thieving? No, sir.” You try to disguise your snigger as you skip it forward a few seconds, to show William pulling the waitress off his arm and booking it out the door. “It’s uh that I find funny.”

He snickers himself, god this was a shit show. “Yes, I can see why.” 

“When I clip it for the police, I’ll leave that bit out… might be hard to explain what he was trying to do there.” You watch your boss nod his approval, an understanding between you to try and keep William out of the copper’s eye-lines.  

Henry then recalls what he said about the outside footage. “What about outside? William said that we might be able to see something on the cameras round the back.” 

“Ah yeah, good idea.” You go off the restaurant recordings, and on to the outside ones. They record a little differently in blocks of footage that display in a huge camera roll, you go to the section he means but scroll down too far, clicking on the wrong block. The two of you are met with yesterday’s footage of the bins and it takes you a fair few seconds to realise. 

“Oh this is yesterday’s.” Henry says the moment he clocks on and you blink trying to read the time and date stamp. 

“Oh sorry.” you rush to go back off that recording, hitting the wrong button and instead going to the rear interior cameras in the same block. The intake of breath from Mr Emily, makes you jump. 

“Ah- no. That’s ah-” The time it takes him to speak is enough for you to gauge the reason for his reaction. Though the footage isn't brilliant you can tell it’s him standing just outside William’s office, his back to the wall. It’s too grainy to see precisely but the movement is clear and pitifully familiar to you. You look at Henry for a moment, lips pursed in confusion, then it occurs to you to look at the timestamp: yesterday around 1:30pm, you were on your ‘lunch break’ then with Will- oh sweet lord. 

“Oh my God.” you say out loud, and Henry swears that this must be what a heart attack feels like. The dawning realisation on your face left him no room to lie his way out of it, sure it was muddy but shit, you can still tell he’s wanking. A disturbed and defeated noise escaped from his throat, “Mr Emily, is that-”

“God, just turn it off.” He speaks hoarsely, a little blunter than he meant, but when he pulls the courage to look at you he sees blatant amusement on your face. 

“Like Hell I will. You saw me and Will- Mr Afton in his office yesterday?” you enquire, smirk not budging an inch. 

“Yes.'' His voice is small as his eyes flicker between you and the footage, which is now reaching its literal and metaphorical climax. Your eyes go wide as you take it in, how he bites on his hand his back lifting off the wall, fucking his fist and letting himself spill on the floor.

“And you uh-”

“Yes.” Now he looks at you, his face red before he tries to grab the mouse, futile really, you’d already seen everything. The whole vile, carnal activity. Something so beneath him, it had been on his mind all day. He internally interrogated himself as to how he didn't think about the cameras, the stupid horny bastard he was. Couldn’t wait to get back to the privacy of his office- no he didn’t want to because the sounds of his co-worker and employee screwing was what was getting him off. 

You move it out of his grasp, your eyes sharp scrutiny on his shame. “God, Mr Emily.” you giggle, a sudden giddiness surging through your veins. If you had known that he was there he could have come in and gotten a better view, the mere thought of that made arousal twitch between your legs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you finally speak again. 

Confusion again twists his features, “What?” He looks handsome like that, you muse. 

“Do you… fancy me, Mr Emily?” A flash of something foreign crosses his face, he just looks at you until you prompt him again, “Well?”

He scoffs, “I- well, you’re attractive, yes. What do you want me to say?” His tone is tinged with disbelief, he can’t believe you’re still in here with him, talking to him, not running into the restaurant to tell William, disgust etched on your face. 

You beam, he really did, it was written on his face. Circumstantial or not, the idea of having two fit older men interested in you, burned your blood. “Then you could’ve said something… I feel guilty if you felt, you know, left out.” 

He’s so speechless he might as well be a statue, so you fill the silence again, “It’s good to know.” He’s just mesmerised by your reaction, you’re almost flirting with him, unperturbed by that god-awful footage, no, engaged by it.

“I’m sorry.” He manages finally, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from his hands. 

“Don’t be.” You shake your head, still smiling. “I’ll sort the recordings. Check for a number plate and clip it for a report.” You slowly place a hand on his arm, stroking up and down, captivated by the effect you were having on him, you felt powerful almost. “So you don’t have to worry. You can go.” 

And he does. He leaves the room without saying a word, shell-shocked into silence. Your reaction wasn’t what he would have thought, but it still scared him because he knew he was going to be the next topic of conversation between you and William, and if he were to confront him, that heart attack probably would materialise. God, if you only knew the half of who he fancied.

~

The next time you see William, is again during your contracted hours, this time leaving the door purposely open despite his protests, a secret hope that Henry might again come down the corridor, no pun intended. You’d rode William to oblivion in his office chair, taking exactly what you wanted from the man in the form of his huge cock stretching your little hole open. 

Now you remain sat on his lap, watching his hand toy with the mess both of you had made between your legs, his fingers pushing his release back inside, thinking to himself how pretty you looked fuck open like that, full of him just how you wanted. 

“I want to talk to you.” You say through a grin, pulling his hand away and towards your lips, where you suck the mixture of the two of you from his fingers, your tongue swirling reminding him of something else you’re more than good at. A low noise from his chest at the sight makes you smile again. 

He smirks, “This is the bit where you ask me for something, huh?” 

“Nothing you won’t like.” You bite the tips of his fingers, holding them for just a moment between your teeth, making him groan. “Do you know about Mr Emily?” The second you ask it he pulls his hand away, cupping under your jaw. 

“What about him?” 

“He saw us the other day. You know on your desk.” You don’t need to jog his memory, he recalls that in explicit detail. 

“Yeah, got quite the eyeful I imagine. Looked mortified.”

“Oh my god, He didn’t tell you.” You laugh, “Not that I blame him.” adjusting yourself before sliding from his knee. You pull up your panties and then the trousers you were wearing, scanning the room for wherever the hell your shoes have gone. When you look back to him, his brow is furrowed. 

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart, what’s this about?” You can tell that despite the casualness of his tone he really wants to know and your cocky expression was grating on him already. Clearly you talking about Henry was of great interest to him. 

So you smile, taking a moment to enjoy the look on his face before giving him the story, in as much detail as you can. You describe the footage you’d found, how even through the pixels you could tell he touched himself desperately, his pace rushed either due to fear of discovery or simple greediness. You tell him how his coworker was so thoughtless as to let his release fall on the floor, and dirty enough to leave it there. 

William looked at you with a grin, he could taste the second-hand embarrassment on his partner's behalf, thinking to himself that Henry must feel like shit right now. When you finish with some clear glee on your face he chuckles, “Dirty bastard.” He paused, an expression flashing across his face that you’d never seen before. “...Did he delete the footage?”

You laugh, “Why? You want to see it?” You half expected his face to fall at that accusation but a grin just cut wide on his face. “I deleted it.” you shoot him down.

“Well then, that’s a wasted opportunity. You never know when that kind of thing can be of use.” He spoke whilst standing up, pulling the lever under his chair up to return it to the height he needed it, not the one you did to ride him. He moved to begin sorting his desk out but his hands stuttered, not sure where to even begin with how behind on work he was. 

“Cold, Afton.” You grin. “You didn’t actually let me finish.” That caught his attention again and he turned to face you, leaning back on his desk before gesturing at you to continue. 

“I said I deleted it. Only fair, I wouldn’t want Mr Emily to feel… slighted.” You sigh, watching him look at you expectantly. You make him wait a fair while before you dig in your back pocket and clack a USB down on the desk next to him. The blooming smile on his face motivates you to ask him for a ‘favour’. 

Clearly there is something of a tension between the two co-owners. And that can be toxic to a business’ success. Though that’s probably not the real reason for you wanting to relieve it.

William moves to pick it up, but you quickly snatch it from the table, holding it between two fingers you drag it up under his chin. “You can have it… for whatever pervers reasons you really want it.”

“But?”

The saccharine look on your face as you speak is like hypnotism at its finest. “I like the idea of two men wanting me. Like I really like it.” you draw out your words for maximum effect.

He tilts his head back in laughter, “Of course you do.”

You’re not entirely happy with the implications of that. “Hey, at least I’m brave enough to ask for what I want.” 

“And you want to fuck him?” The words are quick and harsh off his tongue. “And you’re what, asking for my permission?” 

A short laugh escapes you. “No. But I do want to fuck him. But I don’t want to make you jealous, so maybe there’s a middle ground. If you get me?” He evidently does, judging by that delicious pinch between his brows. For a moment you think you’ve pushed things a little too far, maybe hit a nerve even, so you just blink at him prettily, hoping that that will nudge him in the direction you want. 

Finally, he sniggers, “... You’re asking me… If I will tag-team you. With a bloke I've known for nearly twenty years?” He laughs incredulously before running his tongue over his teeth. The emphasis of the last part makes you resign yourself to the no, you think you’re about to hear.

“Uh yeah..?” Your tone is as cautious as you can make it, whilst your eyes rake over his face for some read of his opinion on the matter. 

But he just leaves you hanging, sniggering away. Clearly he’s made a decision and you won’t get to know until he thinks you need to. 

~

Later that evening after grabbing his old and dusty but trusty jacket off the hook in his office, Henry checks the pocket for his car keys and wallet. Sighing as the events of the day caught up to him, he finally clocks off just after 11pm, and he’s more than ready to fall into bed. 

He pokes his head around the door of William’s office just to give him the polite goodnight that was expected but is greeted by pitch black emptiness. He tries not to be pissed off that the bastard has gone home already and left him working away without a word exchanged. But it's largely unsuccessful, and he finds himself huffing and puffing as he goes to the front of the building to check everythings been locked up properly.

The restaurant always hits different after hours, an unacquainted person would probably find it creepy what with the children’s play area all shrouded in darkness and the curtains drawn on the stage blowing just a little from the ventilation. Hell, he was beginning to find it unnerving himself. 

The interior doors were locked and bolted and the shutters were down, making this whole thing a little pointless, but if he hadn’t checked he’d be halfway home itching with uncertainty. Especially with the robbery that just happened. 

“You know you could have just checked from outside?” A voice says in the dark of the restaurant, making Henry turn like a gunshot towards it. It takes him a minute in his surprise to clap his eyes on William sitting in a corner booth with his feet on the table. In the complete fucking dark. 

“Jesus, William.” He snaps, moving to the wall to flick the lights back on. When he does, the lurker winces in the bright artificial light. “What are you doing?” 

In response, he slides a bottle of whiskey across the table, one that he’d drunk nearly half of already. “Drinking.” His words are a little slurred so he clears his throat. “Drink with me, Henry.” 

Henry scoffs, “Drinking alone in the dark. New low, even for you.” 

Cackling, William puts his hand over his heart, “Ouch. Well, I'm not alone now, am I? Sit down.” He gestures in line with his words, nodding towards the other side of the booth. 

“It’s late, I should-” He begins his protest but is immediately cut off by an overexaggerated reaction from his counterpart. 

“Oh for the love of god, man. Fucking sit down.” He rolls his eyes, still not moving his feet from the table, even when Henry obeys and sits down opposite him. In Henry’s experience it’s best not to argue with William when he’s half-cut, the man could be persuasive, bordering on naggy.  

It’s only when he’s already sat down that he realises the drunk has only got one glass, he pours it for Henry and then takes a swig directly from the bottle. 

“Thought you were saving this for a special occasion?” He asks, twisting the bottle to read the label and humming approval to himself that this was good shit. Truth be told he hasn’t drunk with William for what must be a couple of years, so this proposal mixed with his posh whiskey stank of an ulterior motive. 

“I’m sick of looking at it.” He answered, slowly leaning his head backwards to rest it against the wall and close his eyes. Henry watched the movement over the brim of his glass. He spent many years working with this man, but it only dawned on him once in a while how handsome he was. Not a hallmark prince kind of handsome, but in a rugged, sleazy, scary sort of way, no wonder you’d trotted so happily to bed with him- or rather to his office on your lunch break. He almost laughed as that thought occurred to him. God, he was jealous, and he hated himself for it. 

Suddenly, William shook his head and sat up straighter. “Fuck, I’m nearly mortal.” He snickered, before taking another swig from the bottle, then pouring more in Henry's glass. "Away, mate. You've got catching up to do." 

Although he tried, Henry would have needed another bottle to make it to William’s level of pissed. Still though, a little over an hour later his head was swimming and even just sitting in this booth was testing his balance. 

He shifts in his place, instantly regretting it “Shit. God… I need to stop. Gonna fucki-” He felt like he was going to hit the deck, yet William seemed to have gone the other way, leaning with his head in his hands giggling at nothing. 

“Language, Emily!” He chastised, “Never known you to have such a dirty mouth.” Looking over at the other man, William could tell he’d drunk well too much. He never could handle it that well, it showed immediately in his eyes, that kind of glassy look that was undeniably due to intoxication; many times the two of them had gotten denied service from pubs for exactly that reason. 

His words made Henry look up properly, a bit taken aback by his coworker. Obviously, he was joking, hardly a sentence from William could go by without some flavour of profanity, but that ‘dirty mouth’ comment was like ice down his spine. He said something like that to you when he eavesdropped on the two of you, in such a darkly aroused way that it stuck with him, practically haunting him. “Just shut up, man.” He mumbled, unhappy with the half a smile crossing his face.

William scoffed, leaning forward across the table to snatch the glasses off Henry’s face. He tried to grab them back, but as always, Will was too quick. 

“What the hell are you-”

He laughed, putting the glasses on himself and blinking quickly in pantomime, “God, you’re really fucking blind, huh?” 

Unable to stop himself from smiling, Henry leans to again try and take them back. He's met with William tilting his head to allow him to pluck them from his face, chuckling like a schoolboy. 

Henry feels his face heat up more than he would have liked. “Yeah, that’s why I wear them. Fuck’s sake.” 

“I forgot you’re so moody on the drink, lighten up, dickhead.”

For a moment Henry just laughed in disbelief, thinking to himself that he can’t be serious. “At least it’s only when I’m drinking, you’re a stormy bastard all the time.” Will’s eyebrows raised in response, he didn’t have a lot to say to that, largely because it’s true. His mood could sway the whole staff’s, his bad day was everyone’s problem, most of all Henry’s. 

William hummed for a beat, taking the time to think if he really wanted to say what he was about to. Your words from earlier echoing in his mind. “You’re right, you know.” He smirked then, a proper conniving expression that almost bordered on sinister. “I’ll have to make it up to you then… Call in on me tomorrow. I have something for you.” 

~

And now is the waiting game. Your shift went relatively quickly and painlessly. Bookings have been strictly limited after yesterday's fiasco that led to the thief digging around the cash register, so it was almost quiet. And now you sit on your boss’s very familiar knee, practically vibrating with excitement. You lean your head back to rest on his shoulder, slowly grinding your hips back and forth on his lap, knowing how much it wound him up. 

“You really can’t wait, can you?” His voice is low and teasing like always, but you don’t miss the way his fingers tap against the top of the desk: he’s nervous. 

You smile, “What? I’m excited.” You roll your hip particularly hard, pleasure jolts through your system when you feel that William is pretty excited himself. “I can’t believe he agreed to this. I’ve always wanted to have two blokes fight over me.” You punctuate your point by pressing your lips against the underside of his jaw. 

He snickers from just above you, “Can I tell you something?” A large hand comes up from your ribs to grab a handful of your breast which you arch your back into. “He didn’t exactly agree.” The second the sentence leaves him, you sit upright, turning to face him. 

Your eyes narrow. “What are you saying?” 

“I told him I have something for him, not that-” Your scoffing cuts him off .

“You- he doesn’t know that I’m here to… You’re such a fucking arsehole!” You could almost hit him, if Henry has no idea what this is all about, it’s not going to happen is it? Disappointment courses through you. “I can’t believe you-” You go to stand and grab your shit and leave, but he catches your hips and pulls you back down on top of him. 

He holds you firm, just grinning at the angry line between your brows. “Calm down, sweetheart. Alright? Just bat your eyes at him like you’re so good at and you’ll get what you want.”

Just as you open your mouth to give Will your grievances, the two of you hear polite knocking from the office door which then slowly cracks open showing a tentative looking Henry. 

The second he claps eyes on not only William but you too, the man feels anxiety prickle all over him as a million thoughts cross his mind. Seriously, what the fuck is this? Some kind of gang up on Henry, make him feel like shit for what he did the other day, situation? Fuck, the shame around him was not only tangible but so thick it was practically visible. 

But not wanting to draw attention to his hallway activity, he elects for a “Oh hey, y/n.” Before he focuses his gaze on William, “What is this then?” 

He laughs, “I said I had something for you…” William then takes his hands off your hips, freeing you to move as you’d like. But before you do, he whispers something unintelligible to Henry in your ear. Something that makes the hard line of your mouth soften considerably. 

“Well, love. You still want to play?” The words caress your skin and it dawns on you that you do. Fuck, you really want to play. And you’ve already gone to all this effort… it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity. You nod at William and slide off his lap, then walking over to Henry who still stood awkwardly a pace away from the door. 

You walk right up to him, standing a little too close to him, so close he feels an automatic blush spread across his cheeks. “I uh…” you begin but falter immediately. The confusion on his face was crystal clear. “I can’t get that image of you out of my head. You know, the footage?... I think I enjoyed that more than a normal person should. I thought maybe we could have some fun- if that’s what you want, obviously.” You keep your voice down instinctively, maybe hoping internally it’d be out of William’s earshot. 

He killed that thought with, “Careful, y/n. His glasses will steam up.” The cockiness coating the words made the other man scowl, which in turn just made Will laugh. 

“Shut it, Will.” You interject, your eyes not moving from Henry as you read him for reaction. 

“...This really isn’t a good idea.” He speaks slowly, voice cracking on the first word, making him have to clear his throat to continue. This was baffling, and he couldn’t tell if it was some sick joke between you and William, something designed to cripple him emotionally. But looking closer, from your small smile to his set jaw made him think that maybe, maybe this was a real proposal. 

“Respectfully,” you take another step forward, so close to Henry that you could smell his aftershave. “I disagree.” Your hand rises up to rest on his chest, a finger prying under the lapel of his jacket.  

He chuckles in complete disbelief, flicking his eyes over to William, who still sat cock-sure as hell in his office chair.  “Don’t look at me, mate. This is all her.” He waves a calculatedly dismissive hand as he speaks, trying to disguise the tension he was wrapped in.   

“Yeah but…” The words fail Henry when you continue touching him, stroking his chest in just the right way to get the physical reaction from him that you wanted. “If I do something, are you going to rough me up?” He attempts some level of nonchalance, but it doesn’t carry at all. 

William sniggers then, “I think she’ll do a good enough job of that on her own.” You giggle, curling your fingers under the lapel and pulling Henry so close that your lips are only an inch away from his making him groan slightly. 

“So what do you say, Henry?” You breathe, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure that this is something that he wanted. He doesn’t respond verbally, only closing the gap between the two of you with a surprisingly firm kiss. You reciprocate, excitement bubbling in your core, this was insane, not only was it two handsome men here with you at once, but both your bosses, this was certainly going to bollocks up your professional relationships. 

You take both Henry’s hands and place them on your hips, giving him all the cues to deepen this kiss, which he does by sliding his tongue into your mouth and twirling it alongside yours. You let out a light moan, if he kept hitting you with all these surprises this was going to be even more fun than you initially thought. When you press yourself flush against him, it strikes him out of nowhere that this is real, you, pretty little you, were kissing him, pressing against him hungrily, eager for him. It excites him enough for his hands to rake over you, one cupping your tit and the other pinching your arse in such a way that makes you briefly rise to your toes. 

You mouth the word ‘fuck’ against his lips before he puls away slightly and buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing along your skin until he found your sweet spot. Your hand tangles itself in his hair, encouraging him to keep pulling these cute noises from you. One particularly pretty gasp for you makes him look up, instantly catching William’s eye, his stomach twisting when he sees him chuckling and shaking his head. You grab under his chin, forcing him to put his attention back on you. 

You look over your shoulder, “Have you got a confused jealousy boner, Will?” 

He laughs at your meanness, “If I have to watch, at least put on a show.” You grin before turning back to Henry, intending to follow his advice. You lightly push Henry back until his back catches a side table, there you trail your hand down his body before taking the tent in his trousers in your hand, making him groan again, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

You begin to stroke him slowly over the fabric, grinning up at him, “Fuck, that security footage was so hot, Henry.” You bite your bottom lip and he swears he’s going to melt. “Will you show me in person?”

You feel his cock twitch and it spurs on the wetness now seeping between your legs and collecting in your panties. His hands replace yours, moving to slowly undo his belt, the clinking sound all too revealing, then his fly underneath. You dive in then, helping him pull his trousers down. Flicking your gaze between his eyes and his cock, you trail your finger over the bulge, stopping just at the waistband of his boxers and making him wait in anticipation before you hook your fingers under the fabric and pull them down, letting his hardness spring between your bodies. 

The look on your face is so damn dirty, your pupils so huge that he just blinks at you, gasping when you grab hold of him, feeling his length. He’s thick and you just know he’s going to feel so fucking right inside you. Spitting in your hand, you start a slow pace of stroking him, all teasing, really making him feel every little thing you give him, his twisting expression motivating you to keep it nice and easy. 

“This enough of a show for you?” You say to William, and Henry turns to look at him like he forgot he’s there. 

“Please, sweetheart. I know you can do better than that.” He makes a point of looking the two of you up and down before glancing at Henry and flashing the most wolfish smirk going, making his stomach twist with something absolutely filthy. 

William watches as you grin, his hand taking hold of himself over his trousers. You look such a pretty thing sliding down to your knees, still pumping Henry, though now it was becoming a more substantial pace. His breath audibly hitched when he looked down at the sight of you stroking his cock like that, looking so needy for it. You open your mouth, placing the head of his cock on your tongue for a moment before wrapping your lips around him. You suck him just as tantalisingly, hollowing your cheeks to take as much of him as you could, working your tongue perfectly on the underside of his length. His head was completely empty, soft grunts escaping him when you took him deep in your throat. How the fuck was this even happening? How the fuck was William okay with it? 

From across the room, you both hear the shifting of him standing up, your eyes move to what you could see of him in your peripheral but you don’t stop, if anything you start bobbing your head with more gusto, your hands taking his base and softly stroking him to your rhythm. Henry just stares at William, his hands white knuckling against the table in an effort not to cry out- god, you’re too fucking good at this. No wonder he’s so fond of you. 

William stands behind you, his frame casting an imposing shadow over you on the floor, you can’t help but smile- well, smile as much as you can. He looks between the two of you, watching you give Henry probably the best blowjob of his life, before looking back to Henry’s reddened face, he could tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek, which makes him snigger. He grabs hold of your hair, taking a firm grip of it and following your movement. 

Henry moans and the shame that accompanies it is almost instant. What the hell was he doing? His scrutiny was fucking awful and maybe would’ve made him want to stop, if you weren’t taking him so well. 

“She’s such a good girl, huh?” His voice makes your skin pucker with goosebumps, fuck he sounds so good when he’s horny. 

Henry would have agreed, but all words are absent when Will uses your hair to control your movement. A sudden emerging urge to hear what kind of sounds Henry can make taking over him. You moan, hand reaching in reflex around his wrist, though you let him do as he wishes. He pushed your head further down on Henry’s cock, making tears spring at the corners of your eyes. And then moves you back and forth, forcing you to keep up with it. Something about it is so dirty you can’t help but shift your position so your pussy is rubbing against your heel, the small sensation absolute bliss.   

William catches on quickly and pulls your head back so Henry’s cock pops lewdly from your mouth. You speak immediately, your voice breathy, “Feeling left out?” 

Henry watches in something close to awe as William tilts your head all the way back so you’re looking up at him, his finger rubbing over your lips, the smirk on his face mean. “I agreed to share, not witness.” He leans down and pulls your shirt up, somehow managing to manoeuvre it over your head easily, despite the carnage. He waits, unsure of what to do, his cock glistening with your spit when he takes it in his hand, looking to see your bra being unhooked and the sight of your perfect tits. 

William hooks under your arms and lifts you up, in quite the show of strength, onto the side table. You giggle, “You’re not very good at sharing then.” as you look between the two men, your legs spreading automatically to let William pull your trousers off, your wet panties exposed, he runs his fingers over the damp fabric eliciting a pleased sound from both you and Henry who now touched himself at the view in front of him. 

“You really liked sucking his dick, didn’t you?” His tone is all mocking, though you pick up on a hint of something else. You just nod and lift your hips up against his hand, he obeys your silent ask, quickly sliding your knickers down to your knees and placing his thumb on that needy clit of yours. He gives you just what you need, drawing circles over your bundle of nerves, glancing at Henry whilst he does so, catching his gaze as it flicks from somewhere else, embarrassment written on his face.   

He shakes his head at him before placing his hands on your thighs to keep you open for him as he bends down and replaces the stimulation with his tongue. You grab him instantly, and your want for him makes Henry stroke his cock again, he almost wants to laugh at this attempt to show off, but there’s no denying the look on your face as you roll your hips against him, incoherent moans fleeing your lips. Clearly, William is good at that because when he adjusts his position to press his fingers inside you, you cry out, the sound insanely pornographic. He presses his digits inside you just right, playing you like a fucking violin and you’re close, just the sight of Henry watching could have got you there, but the angle of his fingers pressed against the part of you that made coming undone inevitable. 

William grunts into your pussy, when your hand in his hair lets him know you’re going to cum. You’re a bad one for that, grabbing onto him in your fretful wave, when you’re scared he’s not going to let you get there, his back is covered in scratches from you for precisely that reason. He grabs at himself, palming his erection to the rhythm of your noises and not entirely succeeding. Henry notices immediately, unable to decide what he wants to watch more, you gagging for it, begging to cum, or Will getting off on it.

“Fuck. Will, please.” You choke out, the fucking of his fingers shoving you closer and closer to your end, so quick its near unbearable. He doesn’t stop, curling his fingers more to get you there, still sucking mercilessly on your clit. It hits you hard, your back arching as you cum, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers, fluttering in such a way that it makes it impossible not to bust inside you.

William pulls away from you when your waves begin to die out, to enjoy the sight of you, grinning when he sees Henry looking ragged. 

You see it too, the furrowed brow, sweat lingering on his forehead showing that he’d enjoyed that nearly as much as you had, edging himself helplessly to your pleasure. You can see the precum leaking from his tip and even though you’ve just cum you want more. You want to make him cry. 

“Henry…” The second you say his name he quivers, he remembers your voice sounding like that from before, but the glazed over, fucked out look on your face is new. “Can you fuck me?” You’re sitting up on the table as you speak, your cunt flushed and shining. And you certainly don’t need to ask twice. 

You stand and push him down so he’s sitting in William’s chair, not missing the pissed off look on Will’s face that screams ‘what about me?’.

You straddle Henry facing out towards William, blinking pretty at him whilst rubbing your slick pussy against the other’s cock. Hoping he gets the practicality of this position. Reading your mind, he steps forward, taking your chin in his grip as his foot reaches under the chair to push the lever up, causing you and Henry to drop down roughly to a much more useful height. Henry moans, the jolting movement making him drag against your cunt in the most desperate way. 

It’s not long before you’re lost in the obliteration of two fellas at once. Henry’s thick cock deep inside you, stretching you around him. His hands cup under your behind to give him the space he needs to fuck up into you. You’re whining from it, loving the feeling of his pace, or you would be, if not for your lips being wrapped around William’s cock stifling the sound.

If anyone was outside the door in the former's previous position, they might fall victim to the same impulse he did. The lewd sounds of one using your mouth like his fucktoy and the other fucking out your dripping pussy, no doubt very obvious. As is the mixture of grunts and moans. You can't help but be so thankful for coming across that footage.

[excessive-vampires]

Chapter 14: Frightened Wild Animal Part 1: Riley

Masterlist with CW

Taglist: @demyxdancer @softvampirewhump @d-cs

The house was probably the most upscale property Riley had ever been to, if the porch was anything to go by. Even the miles of woods separating the house from the rest of the neighborhood seemed fancy somehow. They wouldn’t be surprised if they found a spiral staircase inside. Riley was trying very hard not to think about what else might be lurking inside this practical mansion.

It was Mike who made sure the house was clear and opened the door, which meant Riley’s team was the last to go inside. 

The first thing everyone saw was three dead bodies laid out by the front door. One had its throat sliced open, another had a gaping burnt hole in its chest, and the third’s head was caved in. 

Someone in front of Riley swore. Riley grabbed their amulet as their head started spinning and their breath got shallow. Their stomach turned and they had to work not to vomit at the brutality of it. 

“Charlie Team, search this floor,” The head caster from Alpha team ordered. “We’ll take upstairs and Beta Team, find the basement.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Sil and Charlie Team’s head caster said at the same time, and the nine of them split up. Each other team had two casters and an artificer, leaving Riley’s team understaffed. But they had to be there in case they found anything relevant to Mason’s plan. Anything that could help identify what the rune from the cabin was for. The agents were supposed to be able to tell if there was anyone in the house before going in, but Riley seriously doubted Mike would have given the all clear if he had seen the bodies. And if Cliff could mess with the Bureau’s scrying artifacts then there could be literally anything in this house. Riley almost froze with fear but made themself keep moving their feet. 

“Riley, go wait in the car,” Mike ordered. 

“No,” Sil contradicted. “They'll be in more danger alone. Agent Bishop stays with us.” 

Riley fought to keep their breath from quickening as they nodded their assent. But they couldn’t stop their eyes from darting back and forth to every shadow like it was a tiger waiting to pounce, and couldn't stop their mind from picturing Cliff behind every corner.

Once the team found the door to the basement Sil went down the stairs first followed by Riley and then Mike. Just as they got to the bottom, muffled screaming came from upstairs. Mike immediately turned around to go back up. 

“Agent Green!”

“Don’t cite protocol at me, Sil, people are getting hurt.”

Riley would have said something, but they were shocked into silence. 

“Mike! Look at what’s in front of you!” Sil ordered. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you want to go back up there.” Avi’s voice caught Mike’s attention and he turned back around. 

Seven unconscious humans, seven demons. 

Mike rushed towards Clara Bolton. Riley and Avi both yelled “Stop!” at the same time. 

“The runes have them in suspended animation,” Riley explained. “Moving her could hurt her or you.” 

Mike looked at the rune. “This is inlaid into the floor, it’ll take hours to break safely.” 

“Please tell me there’s fifty more of you guys upstairs,” Avi said. 

“There’s six,” Riley answered as they walked over to Avi. 

“Fuck,” Avi swore. “You need to get out of here. Fast.” 

“We can’t just leave everyone!” Mike protested. 

There’s nothing you can do right now! None of us can leave!… Except…” 

“Except who?” Riley asked. 

“She’s human, she could leave this part of the rune…” 

Riley suddenly realized who the demon was talking about. 

“Listen, I have to protect her, it’s part of our deal. So I need you to take her and get out of here, leave the rest of us behind or you’re all going to die. Do you understand?”

“Avi—”

“Do you understand!” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” Then they closed their eyes and Riley wasn’t sure who they were talking to. Maybe them, maybe the person they were possessing, maybe both. “This is the only way. You can figure out how to stop him, you can save me and everyone else. I believe in you.” They opened their eyes and stared into Riley’s. “Take care of her.” 

Riley thought about how they were planning to treat Avi like an unpleasant stranger. Well that plan was out the window. Seeing Avi trapped and helpless like this… They didn’t want that. They couldn’t make themself want that. Not after seeing how scared Avi looked. But at least they could justify it as just wanting to help an innocent woman. 

“I will.” 

“Thank you.” 

Then Avi began to glow, and what looked like molten gold began to flow out of their skin and pool on the floor. Riley caught a glimpse of deep blue eyes before the body passed out and started to fall out of the rune. Riley caught her. The mass of glowing gold on the floor coalesced into a short and fat humanoid with pearlescent scales for skin and gold horns framing slicked back golden hair. Their simple clothes were gold too. As they finished forming they spoke in a familiar voice.

“Go!”

Mike rushed over to help Riley with the woman. As they climbed the stairs they heard Avi and another demon talking. 

“Avi, are you okay?” 

“Yes. I-I think so.” Their voice cracked. “As long as they get her out of here safe I’ll be fine.” 

Riley and Mike each had one of the woman’s arms slung over their shoulders. It was rough going. Riley had to hunch over because of how short she was, and she wasn’t exactly light either. Still, they got within sight of the front door before Mason saw them. 

Sil acted fast, throwing out both her hands in opposite directions and activating two of the runes she had drawn in preparation of the mission. Two things happened at once. 

First, a small explosion erupted from Sil’s hand, with all it’s concussive force and heat directed towards Mason. He had a shield up, of course, but the surprise blow to that shield still knocked him back and off of his feet. 

Second, an invisible wall of force hit Riley, Mike, and the woman, pushing them forward until they all but crashed into the front door. 

Riley got the door open and Sil ran to catch up with the others as they moved as fast as they could towards their car. When they got there Sil slid into the driver’s seat while Mike and Riley hauled the woman into the back. Riley got in back next to her and Mike took the passenger seat. 

“Drive!” Mike yelled at Sil, and she put the gas pedal to the floor. 

Riley held onto their amulet and looked out the window until Mason’s house was out of sight. Then they turned to the woman on the seat next to them. Her face was expressionless in unconsciousness and that made her look somehow different from Avi, who always wore big expressions, whether they were genuine or not. 

The woman whimpered and curled in on herself a bit, Riley thought maybe she was waking up but no, her eyes remained shut and breaths even. Her hand was stretched out towards Riley, they held it. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Riley whispered to her, because that’s what they wanted someone to say to them right now.

They really hoped Mason wouldn’t make them into a liar. 

[whumpsday]

K&J x MMSS 2: Valen & Liz Part 1

Kane & Jim masterlist / Magnanimous Moonrise & Savage Sunset masterlist

content: starvation, blood, nonconsensual restraint, muzzle/gag, aftermath of torture, misgendering a nonbinary character (non-malicious), mentions of rape/noncon, rescue, recovery, vampire whumpee

Note: This is NOT a continuation of the first KJ x MMSS crossover.

Set after K&J #39: Heat Wave Part 2 and after/diverges from 6M/6S

me and @not-a-space-alien are back with another collab!! part 2 will be posted tomorrow! nasa did pretty much all the editing on this one, so huge thanks to them!!

also: i included the taglists for both stories in the first crossover bc i thought it would be a one-and-done thing, but it’s looking like we’re gonna be putting out a bunch of stuff. as such, i will be including the taglists on this and the second part tomorrow as well, but if you’d like to continue being tagged in crossover pieces, please comment saying so in order to remain on the taglist! it’s opt-in! and as the next crossover will be 18+, please be 18+ to enter the taglist for that.

-

Liz hasn't been able to stop thinking about the vampire since she heard about him.

Valen Kithrara. If any vampires deserved to get what's coming to them, it's the Kithrara family. But Kane… Kane's a horrible person, too. He took away the only family she had left, methodically destroyed Jim's spirit until he was a paranoid, crying mess who took years to build himself back up. An abusive piece of shit who by all accounts deserves to die. And yet, as much as she hates to admit it, as much as she hates him, she can't help but feel bad for the guy. She even let him stay in her house for a few days during that heat wave fiasco last month, so it's safe to say they're fine now, she guesses.

If she can be fine with her brother's abuser who she still fucking hates, she can stop this random vampire she doesn't even know from being tortured, no matter what he'd done.

She's going to kill Valen Kithrara. Put the guy out of his misery. In and out, that's the plan. No more fucked up torture, especially when the person she heard about it from said he heard that all the useful “experiments” had been done months ago and it was basically just senseless at this point. She was able to get ahold of the schedule of that base, and it's supposed to be empty tonight. In and out.

When she gets there, she curses under her breath. There's a car out front. Someone's still here. No one's supposed to be here, but then again, neither is she.

She knocks on the door.

Nick answers. He's breathing slightly heavily, and looks caught off guard. "Er, can I help you?"

Oh, this guy is definitely hiding something. Perfect. All Liz has to do is get him to let her down there and she can stake the vampire. He won't want to admit he was even here, and if he does, she can just say the vampire attacked her. It'd be her word against his. "Hey, I'm Beth. I'm from a different branch a few hours out. I happened to be in town, and remembered hearing you guys have a live vampire here. I'm toootally interested in the experiments you're running. I gotta get going tonight, but I figured I'd swing by to take a look if that's okay, see what your setup is so maybe we can get some research going back in my county," she bullshits, giving him a friendly smile.

Nick narrows his eyes. "Are you on duty? Where is your hunting partner?"

"Nah, not on duty. Definitely don't do that shit alone." She laughs. God, she hadn't even told Laken she was doing this. She'll tell them after. "Just in town for personal business. Why, you guys understaffed and want me to pick up a shift?”

Nick blinks at her. "No, nothing like that. You may look, as long as you don't touch anything. I will warn you safely keeping a vampire in a setup like this involves a fair amount of homemade equipment. I made it all myself. I would be happy to share the blueprints with you if you have someone with the technical know-how to recreate them." He opens the door and lets her in, walking to the basement and unlocking the door.

"Cool, thanks!" Liz forces herself to sound enthusiastic, despite knowing she's about to see something truly awful, and follows him inside. What awaits her is something out of a horror movie. The room is filled with torture devices, and Valen himself- god, he looks even worse than Kane did, and completely terrified.

It's at that moment she realizes that she won't be able to do it. On the job, she kills strong vampires who fight her back. She can't bring herself to kill someone so utterly helpless and scared. Which means everything is suddenly a lot more complicated.

"So, what's that thing you've got it locked up in?" she asks.

Nick sits on the lid of the coffin, near Valen's feet. Valen begins to sob, titling his head to make eye contact with Liz. He can't speak, but the message is clear enough from the big, watery eyes. Please, please please please. "It's a shell of silver-core bars coated with iron, with internal restraints. We call it the coffin. The director insists that safety is our topmost priority, but this satisfies even him to know that this vampire isn't going anywhere. It would have to break through two layers of silver restraints, then remove the muzzle on its face before being able to use persuasion. And as a precaution, we never open the coffin unless at least two people are present."

"Well, shit, we've got two people here right now. I could spot you if you wanted to try anything out." The gossip she'd heard included that the guy doing the experiments could hardly even find anyone to go with him anymore because everyone was sick of his shit. "I'd love to see your work in action and everything, if you've got the time."

Nick stares at her. "Please show me your credentials. I could be fired if I didn't ensure the second party was qualified to supervise."

"Of course, yeah." Liz fishes out her hunting license. Elizabeth Lieberman, it reads. She's glad she chose an alias that works with her ID, but with the way her plan is evolving, she's becoming less sure whatever secret reason he's here right now would be enough to keep him from reporting her when she does what she's about to do. But she can't leave this guy here, she can't. She'll just have to figure it out. Get people to cover for her. "I don't think I ever got your name, by the way?"

"Nicholas." He examines the ID and apparently finds it to his satisfaction. He then gives it back, and walks over to the furnace, lighting it and setting the stoneware cup of silver in it to melt. This prompts a fresh round of sobbing from Valen, and him writhing inside the cage, but the device is too heavy for it to even shake under his thrashing.

Nick comes back and sits on the coffin again, crossing his legs. "Elizabeth Lieberman? It's nice to meet you. I don't suppose you're related to Jim Lieberman?"

"Nice to meet you too. Yeah, he's my brother. Got an apprenticeship a couple months after he got taken, started hunting the second I turned 18, never looked back." It's easier to say something genuine than lie through her teeth. What the fuck, is this guy gonna pour silver on him? Why? It's not like hunters could carry around molten silver. "How'd you get into it?"

"Interesting. I've always been fascinated by Jim's story. The two of you are very strong." Nick pulls down his shirt collar to reveal the scars from fang marks on the side of his neck. "I relate to Jim's story on a personal level. That is what got me into hunting." He releases the shirt. "I'm not a proper hunter, though. I don't have a hunting partner. I'm simply an affiliate of the guild. I do research and support."

Liz figured. The guy isn't built like a hunter. She's trained for this work half her life, and it shows. She knows she can take him easily. Hearing his story makes her feel wildly guilty about that, though. God, if he's been through what Jim's been through… well, if she does this right, he won't even know what hit him until he wakes up with a bad headache. And she can't just leave this vampire here.

"Congrats on getting out. That takes guts." She means it. She guesses that's the kind of thing that could drive someone to… this. "I think your silver might be done."

Nick smiles widely. "Thank you. Jim's book mentioned how much you two missed each other. I imagine you must feel the same hatred towards vampires as I do. As many of us do. If you'd like to assist, typically I have someone handle the vampire while I handle the equipment." He hands her a key, then he walks over to the furnace and holds the long metal tongs with the glowing silver on the end. "All you need to do is hold it still on the ground. Kneeling on the shoulders usually works well."

Liz stuffs the key in her pocket, grabs the stake off her belt, and slams the blunt end into the side of his head while he's turned around. She grabs him as he falls, making sure the molten silver that clatters to the floor doesn't get on him. "Sorry, Nicholas," she says softly, setting him down in the chair in front of the desk.

She re-sheathes her stake, pulls out the key, and approaches Valen. "Hey, buddy. Let's get you outta this mess." She unlocks the coffin, undoes the restraints, and helps him out of it.

Valen watches her approach the coffin through a haze. He'd been mentally preparing for more torture, and now this muscular, god-like woman had attacked his abuser, and is now approaching him like an angel descending with kind words. This is a dream, right? Was this really happening?

He is completely limp in her hands, in a daze. His cheeks are flushed. As soon as her hands are on him, he decides he's a little bit in love with her.

Liz decides to leave the cuffs on, and obviously the muzzle is staying. This isn't Kane. The collar won't come off on its own, so she checks Nicholas's pocket and finds his keys. After a couple tries, she finds the right one, leaving it inside the coffin before closing the lid. "Bet that's better, huh? C'mon, my truck's just outside. Let's get you up the stairs." It's obvious that Valen can't move that well on his own, and she supports him as they make their way up.

Before they leave the base, she stops. "Valen, right? Okay, a couple ground rules. I'm helping you because torture is fucked up, but I'm still a hunter. I will kill you if you give me a reason to. No attacking, no trying to take that off-" Liz points to his muzzle. "No trying to run off. Not that you really can right now, but that'll change. You don't hurt me and I won't hurt you. Sound good?"

Valen is so overwhelmed by what's happening. He'd just been sitting there, being subjected to another of Nick's night visits, when this hunter strides in and upends everything all at once. It’s different, and that scares him, a lot. He has no idea who this person is, or what they’re going to do to him, but… She said torture is fucked up. So it could be good. Maybe this was over? His brain refuses to register it. It feels like he’s wading through molasses trying to figure out what he should be feeling. His usual internal stream of pleas has been completely silenced by how suddenly everything had pivoted. He's never even seen this hunter before. The muzzle is staying on, so obviously things weren't going to be too good, but…

Cheeks still rosy, eyes wide with fear and hope, he nods silently.

"Good." Liz takes him to the truck, trying to decide on the best place for him. It would be a lot better if she had a trunk, but her only options are the passenger seat, the backseat, or the bed. The first two left her vulnerable to attack- Valen would lose, but she would be driving and that was dangerous as shit. The bed left him wide-open for escape.

She considers going back and getting the coffin, for a moment, but… instead, she sighs and just loads him into the passenger seat and buckles him in. He really doesn't seem like he'll attack. "There we go," she says, before climbing into the driver's seat. "Name's Liz, by the way. I live about three hours away, so get comfortable. And hey: you're out. Take a minute to celebrate it." She gives him a smile and a pat on the shoulder before getting on the road.

You're out. Is that what's happening? It must be, right? Valen lets his head lean into the window, bonking against the glass. He's out. He's away from Nick. He's away from Nick. He starts to cry softly with relief. He's still a prisoner, it's not over, but this seems like it's going to be better. He can hope for that. Maybe it's a lie, he has no reason to trust this person, but she is the first one to say what's happening to him is fucked up and do something to put a stop to it. But where is she taking him…? To her house?

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her strong-looking hands on the steering wheel and working the gear-shift. He keeps replaying in his mind over and over the sensation of her lifting him up, helping him up the stairs, touching him gently to get him up into the seat and buckle him in. What can I do to make you want to protect me? Anxiety creeps over him.

Liz isn't very talkative on the drive home. She's a little on-edge with a vampire just sitting right next to her while she's driving after having fought so many, and keeps glancing at Valen to make sure he's still chill. She calms down once they finally get to her house. She's glad the timing is good- it's late at night, and no one is out, especially not in a town so close to vampire territory, so no one can see her taking a vampire into her house.

"Alright, we're home." She helps Valen into the house, sitting him on her couch. "I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to take a vampire home tonight, so I'm a little unprepared. Looks like you need… a bath, some clothes, and a meal, for starters." She reaches toward his face. "Not gonna hurt you, just checking out that muzzle," she warns. This isn't Liz's first rodeo, and she's assuming Valen must be at least as jumpy as Jim was when he first came home. The more assurances, the better. She grabs his chin and tilts his head a little, getting a good look of the thing. It doesn't seem locked, which is a major safety hazard she'd have to fix. He wouldn't be able to drink normally with it on, but… "Yeah, I can probably get a straw in there."

Valen's eyes light up with delight when she says this. She's going to feed him? Really? That makes him a little nervous--feed him for what? Dare he believe just because she didn't want to see him starving? And a bath, and clothes… Things you would give a person, and not a piece of meat. It almost feels wrong. It almost feels too much to hope for. Silent tears dribble down his cheeks again, tears of relief. Maybe he could convince her to take the muzzle off. Maybe she wouldn't feel the need to keep him locked up so tight. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe he could be a person and not a piece of meat.

Fuck, he really does remind her of Jim at 24. "Hey, it's gonna be alright." Liz grabs a tissue from the box on the side table and hands it to him. 

He remembers tissues, a relic from an era when he could blow his nose. He takes the tissue and dabbles delicately at his eyes.

"Let's… okay. Blood first, probably. Hmm." She'd heard Jim tell her how Kane jumped on him when he got a papercut, so this guy definitely wouldn't be able to control himself. "I'm gonna have to tie you up first, just for this first time- maybe first few times- to make sure everything goes smoothly. Stay there, lemme work this out."

She's able to scour something along the lines of rope from her camping gear, winding it around his legs and torso firmly and tying it off where he can't reach. Even if he tried to lunge at her, he'd just end up on the floor. "I'll take that off after your dinner. Just try to relax. It'll be fine."

Valen whines softly as Liz approaches him with rope, and starts to sob as she ties him up. It's not painful, it's not even unpleasant except psychologically. More restraints, more tying, more barriers between him and being a person who talks and laughs and says please and thank you and I love you. She tells him to try to relax and it'll be fine, but he can't make his brain believe it. It won't be fine. It's never fine. It's always worse. Things had been getting better, and now they were getting worse again.

Liz passes through the doorway into the kitchen. She'll get a blood draw kit tomorrow, but this will have to do for now. She cuts into her arm, bleeding into a cup.

As soon as the blood is outside of Liz's body, Valen does exactly as she'd predicted, lunging and ending up on the floor. His eyes are wild and predatory, nostrils flaring, and his cuffed hands gouge the floor, raking his claws in an attempt to drag himself forward, growling savagely.

Liz glances back, seeing Valen worming around on the floor. It must be awful to be that desperate for food. She fills about half a cup, which takes longer than she thought it would, before bandaging her arm- first with gauze, then with plastic wrap, to hopefully control the smell a little bit. She hopes Valen is able to control himself a little more after he's finished this. She grabs a straw and heads back to the vampire.

"Valen." He barely seems to hear her. Liz grabs him by the bound wrists to make sure she won't get scratched and pulls him up into a sitting position. She straddles his legs to keep him from moving around so much, then sticks the straw through the muzzle and into his mouth as he strains for the cup. "Fuck, finally. Drink up."

As soon as the straw is in his mouth it's like he's a completely different animal. He sucks and the blood rushes into his mouth, warm and wet. His face instantly loosens into a placid expression, eyelids heavy, lost in the sensation. His eyes flicker to Liz, straddling him. Oh hello, where did you come from, big angel? Thank you. Thank you. He feels the blood warming his frigid insides as it goes down his throat. Thank you. Thank you.

The blood is gone far too fast. The straw wheezes emptily against the dredges at the bottom, Valen still sucking, refusing to admit he's finished.

"Yeah, I get that's probably not enough. Here, lemme turn it around so you can get at the bottom of the straw." Liz pulls the straw from Valen's mouth, flips it, and sticks the blood-covered end back in. After it looks like he's done, she pulls it back out, getting off of him. "I know it sucks, but that's all I've got for you right now. I'll get you more tomorrow."

When Liz lets him lick the straw to get a little extra, he almost starts crying again. She's putting so much thought into his comfort it's almost too much to bear. Ideally he'd like to be allowed to lick the bottom of the cup as well, but he knows why Liz won't let him do that. Please take the muzzle off. I promise it'll be fine. He's starting to have the thought with increasing certainty. Before, back with Nick, he knew for a fact that the second anyone took the muzzle off he'd be using persuasion instantly to try and save himself, but…the urgency to do that was starting to fade, here. Maybe he didn't need to. Maybe they could just have a normal conversation. It’s too good to be true, of course, but it’s a nice thought.

Liz rinses the cup, then returns to untie Valen, helping him off the floor. "Alright. Bathtime, pajamas, then bed. We'll figure the rest out tomorrow. You'll be okay." She helps him upstairs, into her parents' old room. There's a queen-size bed, a bunch of boxes (as she uses it for storage), and an attached bathroom. "This is gonna be your bedroom and your bathroom. I'll get all the boxes and shit out of here at some point this week." She continues helping him to the bathroom.

When she takes him upstairs, he starts to feel a little anxious again as Liz takes him into a bedroom. But Liz is a woman. Even if she did that, it probably wouldn't hurt. It probably wouldn't even be unpleasant. Maybe he would even like it. He thinks about it for a little longer than he probably should, before he realizes what she is saying. Oh, he's getting a bedroom, and a bathroom, and pajamas. That's good, right? He wants that. He starts to bounce a little with excitement. He's getting amenities. Maybe this is okay.

Liz starts filling the tub with warm water, then gestures to Valen's boxers. "You want me to help you get those off, you wanna do it yourself, or you wanna leave 'em on?" She holds up a new finger with each option, indicating for him to do the same to pick which he wants.

He's going to get a bath, but oh, he has to pass the trial of making a decision first. At this point he couldn't care less about his boxers. He has no modesty left, no dignity to scrape up to try and save. He holds up one finger, to ask her to do it, then immediately feels anxious about if that was the wrong thing to do.

"Alrighty, here we go." Liz helps Valen get the boxers off, then helps him into the tub. The cuffs and muzzle are still on, since Liz is afraid he'll take the muzzle off if his hands are free. "I know leaving the cuffs on isn't ideal, but I gotta look out for my own safety too. We just met and all. I promise I'll figure out something better tomorrow, you'll get your hands free. I'll help you get cleaned up for today, though."

She washes his hair and body, trying to be mindful of any injuries, making sure to get under the cuffs and muzzle too. At one point, she presses the washcloth into his hands so he can wash anything below the belt himself.  She has to prompt him to do his own washing a few times before he has the wherewithal to do anything for himself.

After, she helps him into a set of pretty basic pajamas- she does unlock the cuffs briefly so she can get the shirt on, but they go right back on after. "Sorry, I know. It's temporary."

Valen leans into her touches, and at whatever point it's feasible, he leans into her, face into her shoulder, sighing contentedly, clinging to her with his bound hands if she allows it. It's probably pathetic. But he wants to say thank you, and he can't, and it's really, really disappointing when the cuffs don't stay off, but he feels cared for in a way he hasn't in a long time. Not safe, but safer. 

The pajamas are nice--any fabric would be a little scratchy against his injuries, but they're soft and warm, neither of which are anything he's gotten to experience in a while. He sits on the bed, feeling acutely the stark clash between the comforting, gentle pajamas and the hard metal cuffs just a few inches above the sleeves at his wrists.

God, he absolutely breaks Liz's heart. Before sending Valen to bed, she gives him a hug, now reasonably certain he'd want that. He seems desperate for any kind of gentle touch. “It's gonna be alright. It's over. No one's gonna hurt you here." She really feels like she's 20 all over again.

He really, really wants to believe her words. Maybe it's a lie, but for now, in this moment, it's true, and that helps him carry on for a little while.

When Liz leaves him alone to go to bed, he lies down in the luxurious softness of a real bed, but finds to his horror he can't sleep. He's out in the open. That means danger. This is horrible because he starts to realize the solution would be to be shut back in the coffin, which he would hate more than anything, but it's been his only rest and safety for months, training his brain to equate a narrow, enclosed space with sleep and safety.

But he's so tired he wants to cry. Is there anything he could do to possibly recreate this sensation? A weighted blanket maybe? There's nothing. The bathtub? The underside of the bed looks tall enough for him to squeeze under, but he doesn't want to leave the softness and warmth of the blankets.

Whimpering, he pulls the comforter off the bed and wraps himself up in it as best as he can, steps onto the floor, and kneels down, jamming himself under the bed and wriggling forward until most of his body is under it. He almost hopes it doesn't work because this is a less than ideal sleeping position, but he does eventually fall asleep.

Liz calls Laken until they wake up and pick up the phone, confesses everything, and tells them to cover for her. Laken is completely on board, and she goes to sleep too, knowing that Nicholas's "a hunter a 3 hour drive away came to steal my vampire for no apparent reason" story will likely not hold up against her "I was literally home all night and I've got people backing that up," especially when he's the one with head trauma and there's no evidence she was there.

The next day, Liz goes to check on Valen, only to find him missing. "Fuck! Where the hell did he go?!"

Valen is awoken by Liz's startled exclamation. Oh no, she thinks I ran off. He starts wriggling forward, but finds he's a little bit stuck. He grips the carpet fiercely and drags himself forward a little, getting his head and shoulders out from under the bed, letting out muffled exclamations to let her know where he is.

Liz rubs the sleepiness out of her eyes with a sigh of relief. "Oh. You do that too, huh?" At least he's coming out on his own, not needing to be coaxed out like Jim did.

You do that too, huh? Did……did Liz sleep under her bed? Why on earth would she do that?

She pulls him the rest of the way out. "Alright, game plan for today. I've gotta go do some shopping, I've got a friend coming over while I'm out. They're gonna feed you, too. After I get back, we'll get those cuffs off, sound good?"

Someone is coming over while Liz is out. That makes him nervous, but excited because they're going to feed him. He wants to ask if it'll be a man or a woman. Liz had said they. Was it just one friend or multiple friends? Realistically it won't really make much difference the gender of the person, or people, but it will let him know how nervous to feel, being alone in the house with someone new in this state. He decides to assume it'll be a man, this way he'll be pleasantly surprised instead of caught off guard if he's wrong, but immediately regrets it, beginning to shake with nerves.

They're coming over to feed you, not hurt you. Calm the fuck down.

But what if they didn't just feed him? Liz was taking the cuffs off, not the muzzle. He's still stuck having no way to tell anyone if something is wrong.

Still, he nods with enthusiasm at the prospect of the cuffs coming off.

Liz takes Valen down to the living room couch, and Laken arrives shortly after. "Hey!" they greet cheerily. "Jesus Christ, you look like you've been through the wringer. What's up, I'm Laken." They hold out a hand for Valen to potentially shake.

"He can't even answer that." Liz points out.

Oh, it's a man. Great. Awesome. Valen dies inside, ready to lie down and take whatever was going to happen to him as soon as Liz leaves. It was obvious Valen wouldn't be able to do anything about it, either resist in the moment or tell on him afterwards.

Valen's countenance shifts visibly and immediately, shoulders drooping. He starts to hold out a hand to shake Laken's, but thinks better of it halfway through and retracts. Maybe if he wasn't overly friendly, or tried to be standoffish or aggressive, he could at least put it off for a while, maybe until Liz got home if Laken didn't pay attention to the time. But then again, maybe Laken was one of those men who liked it better when you tried to push them away. He couldn't know.

Or maybe he's just a normal fucking person. Not everyone is a sadist like Nick.

But he has the opportunity.

That doesn't mean he's going to take it.

He has no reason not to, though. Well…Laken has an interesting hair color. That's nice, at least.

"That's cool." Laken says easily, retracting their hand. "No pressure, man."

"This is Valen." Liz introduces him, since Valen can't. "He's really scared right now, so try not to be too much." She grabs a thick clothing catalog off the coffee table and hands it to them. "Have him pick out what he likes from here, but don't let him write."

"You got it, boss. Blood stuff in the kitchen?" Laken asks.

"Yeah." She looks back at Valen apologetically. "Sorry. Laken's nice, okay? They're not gonna hurt you either. I'll be back in a few hours."

Apparently they're clothes shopping. Exactly how long does Liz plan to keep him here? She's made no mention of removing the muzzle. Does she plan to just have him live here forever, indefinitely muted? The fact that he is apparently going to receive clothes almost makes him feel good, but he just feels nervous instead. He can't make sense of the implications. Did they intend to just have a pet vampire in the upstairs bedroom? Chills go up his spine. Were they going to do other kinds of experiments on him? Surely not, right? She said she wouldn't torture him…

She'd said she wouldn't. Why would he believe her? Why would he believe any of it?

Still, when Liz leaves, he shuffles forward and reaches a hand out, as though to try and grab her to stop her from leaving.

Laken's nice. They're not gonna hurt you either. There's the they again. Laken must be nonbinary. He'd heard of such a thing in passing, mostly in the context of people around him crucifying it as ridiculous and juvenile. He'd secretly found it intriguing, but it doesn't put him at ease. A nonbinary man can still hurt him.

Liz leaves, and Laken claps their hands together, discarding the catalog back to the table for now. "How about breakfast first?"

And then they're alone. Valen's resolve comes back. I'm not stupid. I know you're probably lying. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. He wants to be fed, very much so, but he doesn't trust Laken, and he doesn't want to let Laken see how desperate and scared he is. He remains silent.

Laken shrugs. "Kay, we'll just go with that, then. You think you'll be able to be chill while I get my blood in a cup, or you need some help? Liz told me on the phone to tie you up 'cause you're still getting your juice back, but if you wanna give it a try without, hey, it's cool. Oh, uh, nod for rope, shake your head for nope."

Absolutely not. Valen feels like he would probably die if Laken tied him up. He's not as desperately hungry as he was yesterday, so maybe he'll be able to not lunge? But it was only one feeding…

No, he can't be tied up, absolutely not. He shakes his head frantically. He would rather suffer whatever consequences come from accidentally lunging than be tied up.

“Okay, cool. Let's get this ball rolling, then." Laken smiles at him, then goes to the kitchen and slices their arm to bleed into the cup.

Valen is able to resist a little bit this time, but after a few seconds the smell is too much. I need it RIGHT NOW I NEED IT GIVE IT.

He tries to stop and pull himself back, though, so he just sort of ends up bumping into Laken from behind.

"Oh, hey. It's gonna take a couple minutes, I think." Laken firmly holds Valen away at arm's length with their free arm. "Good to know I'm delicious, though."

Valen blinks at them. Well… That could have gone a lot worse. He wrenches himself away from Laken, chuffing air from his mouth and nostrils aggressively, still feeling threatened and vulnerable, trying to seem dangerous and prepared. He shuffles backwards and takes a seat on the couch.

Laken finishes preparing the blood, bandages themself, and sets Valen up with the straw, murmuring about how "You really seem like you need to smoke some pot. It's so sad vampires can't do that." They turn the straw around for him to lick the bottom too, citing "Liz told me this was a good last step."

Valen snatches the cup from Laken and clutches it to himself, glaring at Laken as he sips it. When Laken puts their hand near Valen, even for something obviously to help, he lets out a low warning growl like a dog.

When he's all done, they get the catalog back out, and a pen, handing both to Valen. "You can go through this and pick out whatever."

Valen’s heart pounds. Does Laken not realize that Valen can use persuasion through writing?  He’s being handed a pen.  He hasn’t had an opportunity like this in so long. His brain twists into anxious knots trying to figure out how to handle this.

Laken does not, in fact, realize. They open the book up to the first page for him.

Valen is suddenly conflicted. Should he try to escape now? Would that make things worse? They're being kind to him, but…

What is he thinking? He has to get out of here. It doesn't matter how nice they are, they're still keeping him captive. They can still do whatever they want to him. He's still at their mercy. This is probably all just to lull him into being complacent. His mind races. Oh no, he has to make a decision.

He takes the pen and starts to write a command, but to his horror his disused hands can't scrape together the dexterity to get it right on the first try, and he ends up producing some chicken scratch before fumbling and dropping the pen.

He lets out a whine and cringes, looking at Laken through his eyebrows.

"Hey." Laken snatches the pen up, suddenly serious. "I know it sucks you can't say anything, but you know why we can't let you, even if you seem like a nice enough guy. No writing, bud."

That…. also could have gone a lot worse. Laken is being remarkably patient. But Valen still has a hard time suppressing the instinctual fear welling inside him.

He takes the catalog, still bracing for retaliation. When none comes, he turns his eyes downward and points to a black turtleneck sweater.

Laken notices the increase in fear. "I get it, dude. You're just trying to survive, I'd probably do the same if I was you. Listen, I won't even tell Liz. We're cool." They circle the sweater.

Maybe Laken is okay. Maybe. He wants to believe it.

Valen goes through the catalog and picks out all the most expensive things. He doesn't realize until afterwards what he's done, but living among the nobility allowed him to develop expensive tastes. It was frustrating because if he could get back to his house, he still had a lot of money and jewelry he'd take from the Kithrara estate, which he could offer to buy the clothes he actually wanted--of course, in that case, he wouldn't need to be buying new ones.

These are the ones he wants though, he'd just done an honest assessment of the catalog for the kinds of things he'd typically wear. Lots of black tops with long sleeves, dark, tight pants, a long, heavy jacket with a hood. He'd even found a studded leather belt and knee-high boots. Which, unfortunately, cost almost $200, so he figured that was one of the more outlandish asks. He colors a little with embarrassment at his selection.

"Damn, you and Lizzie really are two peas in a pod. Maybe she'll give you one of her leather jackets. Dunno if she's gonna go for those boots, but since you can't, I'll argue on your behalf." Laken gives him a wink. "She'll totally cave. Oh, and, hey. You're trans too, right? You want binders or something?"

Valen looks up at Laken sharply, hardly able to believe what he’s hearing. He tears up instantly. He'd never in a million years thought he'd be able to get that at all, let alone without having to ask and plead for it. His wet eyes sparkle with newfound appreciation, and he nods. Okay, Laken is all right. He leans into them, grabbing their shirt.

But…. something still doesn't feel right. How are they going to care about details like this, and validating him, yet still deny him the very basic ability to advocate for himself? To communicate with them as an equal? Were they just buying him nice things like one would buy toys for their dog?

He looks up at Laken pleadingly and slowly points to the muzzle, hopeful inquisition on his face.

Laken sighs. "I can't. Look, I'll talk to Liz about it, alright? Like, honestly, I doubt she'll keep you here forever, so that'd definitely come off. She's probably gonna let you go. She's just paranoid, y'know? Her brother was held captive for years by-" They suddenly grin. "Ooh, I just got the best idea. I know someone you can talk to risk-free."

Uh-oh, it sounds like Laken is saying Liz's brother was held captive by a vampire. Talking with a vampire also had no risk because they were unaffected by persuasion. But his hackles raise defensively once again at the mention of a third unknown party, this one being a vampire. He tended to assume the worst of vampires, a trait he shared with humans--the assumptions were usually not that far off. But… This one was friends with humans, so they couldn't be that bad. Right? Unless they weren't actually friends, but another captive? Were they just going to be put together for a play date? But Laken had said Liz probably wouldn't keep him here forever, so…? He looks at Laken anxiously. He knows he can't really do anything about anything, but he trusts Laken, a little bit.

"Oh, this is such a good idea. I'm a genius." Laken enthuses, oblivious to Valen's anxiety.

Liz gets home soon enough. "Hey! Everything go okay while I was gone?"

"Super smooth." Laken agrees. "Didn't even use the rope for the blood stuff."

Liz flicks them on the forehead. "Stop taking risks." She unpacks the contents of her shopping: a blood draw kit, a small padlock, and these:

"This way we've got more than just yes and no," Liz explains. "They're not all relevant, like, the yes and no cards are redundant and we don't need hungry and thirsty, but at least you can tell me if you're hurt or something this way. I know it's for kids, but I figured it'd help."

"I actually thought of-" Laken starts.

"And if I put this on the muzzle, we can take the cuffs off." Liz grabs the padlock.

Valen is excited by her haul at first--a blood draw kit means feeding him will be easier, and these cute little cards bode well for his ability to communicate more complex things--he eyes the I want to go home card longingly.

But then she pulls out the lock, and Valen's stomach drops out from under him. No, no, no, please. She's said it as though it were a positive thing, to remove the cuffs, but it looks like a step backwards, definitely a step backwards. As it was now, anyone could take the muzzle off. With this, only Liz could take the muzzle off, or whoever she gave the key to. A key, almost a symbol of ownership as well as from the practical standpoint--if someone lost the key, or something happened to Liz, he would just be out of luck. It forced him to be completely dependent on her and at her mercy in a new and scary way. And if this was her solution, how long was she planning to keep feeding him? Because if the current rate of feeding kept up, he'd be able to break any padlock that wasn't silver fairly quickly. Were they going to stop feeding him? But Laken had said she probably wasn't going to keep him here forever, and would let him go. That was too good to be true, of course, but maybe- They kept telling him things that would make him feel better if they were true, but then doing things that were moving in the opposite direction. If they were going to let him go, putting a lock on his most hated restraint was definitely the opposite of moving in that direction. As soon as Liz declares this will allow them to take the cuffs off, Valen crumples, tears slipping down his cheeks, holding his hands out as though she'd threatened to hit him.

"Oh, hey hey hey, it's okay." Liz takes a step back at his defensive gesture, wanting to give him space. "I thought it'd be good, I thought you'd want them off. Um." She slides the cards across the table to him. "Any of these relevant?"

He shuffles through the cards with shaking hands, trying to find one that says I'm a person and you're not treating me like a person and I don't know how to convince you I don't deserve this. There wasn't one, of course, so he picks out the card that says I am sad and puts it on the table.

"He wants the muzzle off." Laken frowns sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Valen." Liz feels awful for him. She imagines if Jim came home after his ordeal and wasn't even allowed to speak. "I wanna help you, but I've gotta look out for myself too. And it's just too big a risk for us to talk. I really wanna talk to you too, but it's a safety issue."

"He could talk to Kane," Laken says.

"What? No."

"Why not?"

"Because he's horrible and I hate him." Liz glowers.

Valen shuffles through the cards again, his newfound tool. He quickly lays out I need help, I am hurt, I am hungry, I am tired and I want to go home all in a row, hoping that maybe physically seeing his smorgasbord of negative emotions laid out would impress upon them the extent of his distress.

Liz exhales slowly. "I'll draw you some more blood. You'll heal. I'm sorry. We don't have to use the lock if you don't want. I'm trying to help you as much as I can without compromising my own safety."

"Can't we just drop him off at the border when he can run again?" Laken asks. "He wants to go home." They point at the card.

"…He's a Kithrara," Liz says flatly.

"C'mon, look at him. Do you really think he's gonna come back to human territory after this?"

"I don't know. I can't risk human lives on that."

"Then let him talk to Kane so he can say something more than I am sad." Laken argues. "I know you hate the guy, but he's the only vampire we know, and you know he'd be willing to help."

Liz hesitates, then sighs. "Fine. For Valen. But I'm going to complain the entire time."

Laken smiles. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Fucking abusive piece of shit." Liz mutters under her breath as she goes to the phone and dials.

Valen clutches his cards to himself. He does kind of want the cuffs off, although he finds them far less distressing than the muzzle. I guess there's no option to get both off… He has a hard time choosing, so he just leaves it, fine with things staying as they are if that's what they choose. He can use his hands well enough to do most things he'd want to, although it's a little annoying.

Sigh…..but hearing humans yet again talk about how dangerous he is, and how he can't be set free for human safety makes him feel small and hopeless again. He's never going to be free of that suspicion, that assumed guilt. But…it sounds like they're going to talk to someone who might help, so maybe it's OK to hope a little bit. He tilts his head in preparation for trying to hear whoever is on the other end of the line during the phone call.

“Hey Liz, what's up?”

“I've kind of got…” She glances at Valen briefly, “A situation.”

“Are you okay?” Jim’s voice takes on a sense of urgency.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just… okay, I'll come out with it. Your situation isn't that unique. I've got a vampire here and he's scared and hurt and I can't let him talk, obviously. So I was wondering if we could meet up with Kane tonight and have him interpret.” Liz blurts out all at once.

“…Wow.”

“I know, I know. You were right, okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, first of all, always am.” Jim gloats. “Second, whatever you need. I'll go let him know what's going on. Can it be here? I think going to your place again would make Kane nervous after last time, even if it'll be night this time.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks. I’ll see you later, love you.” As much as Liz hates having to rely on Kane of all people, she’s glad this is going somewhere

“Love you too.”

Liz hangs up the phone. "Well, I guess this is really happening."

Laken claps excitedly. "Yay!"

I guess we're going somewhere tonight… Valen figures. He's a little disheartened that the implication from that conversation is that this second vampire is also a captive, same as him. How were they imagining this was going to go? Why was it safe for them to talk to this second vampire, but not Valen? Laken seems excited for it, and Liz seems to think this will be better than the current situation, so maybe it'll be okay. It's a nice thought, that things will work out.

"I'll go get you a second helping." Liz heads to the kitchen and begins drawing blood.

"It'll be okay." Laken tells Valen. "It's all gonna work out." They tap all the cards except I am sad and I want to go home. "We can fix all these easy." They tap I want to go home. "I'm sure we can work this out. The last card depends on you, I guess."

Liz comes out with a fresh cup of blood and hands it to him. He's calm this time. Laken's sitting and talking with him has calmed him down a little. He tries to keep remembering earlier, when Laken had cared enough about his feelings to get him a binder. And just having them acknowledge This sucks was helping, too. It wasn't That thing deserves it or It doesn't feel pain the same way we do, don't worry about it or It's worth it for the greater good.

And they're giving him a second helping of blood. That's so very generous. When Liz comes over and hands him the cup, he pokes the straw into the muzzle, cheeks rosy, sipping placidly like a toddler with a juicebox. Maybe this is OK.

When he's finished drinking, he inverts the straw himself and licks it, watching Liz and Laken tentatively. He wants to say thank you. Even though he's only been able to focus so far on what was still distressing him, he has so very much to be grateful for. His situation has improved immensely.

He flips through his cards trying to find one that matches his feelings, then blushes fiercely and puts down I love you.

"Aw!" Laken is delighted. "Love you too!"

Liz feels super fucking guilty now. "Yeah. Just trying to… make this as okay as possible for you. I know you've been through a lot." She gives him a side hug and collects the cup.

"I've gotta head out. Good luck tonight. And Lizzie, binders too." Laken says, gesturing to the catalog.

"Gotcha."

"It was nice to meet you, Valen!" Laken says. "And hey, don't worry about tonight. Liz's brother is a sweetheart, and it'll be good to talk."

Valen holds up the card that says Yes. Something about a cartoon of a thumbs up makes it feel closer to saying "Nice" than giving a real thumbs up. Nice to meet you, Laken. Please don't die. Humans die so easily.

Liz's brother worries him a little bit, even if he's supposedly a sweetheart. He was held captive by vampires, and so surely has no great love for them. And he's a man, which never bodes well. He does, in fact, worry about tonight despite Laken's plea not to.

-

reminder: i included the taglists for both stories in the first crossover bc i thought it would be a one-and-done thing, but it’s looking like we’re gonna be putting out a bunch of stuff. as such, i will be including the taglists on this and the second part tomorrow as well, but if you’d like to continue being tagged in crossover pieces, please comment saying so in order to remain on the taglist! it’s opt-in! and as the next crossover will be 18+, please be 18+ to enter the taglist for that.

taglist:

@annablogsposts​​

@cc1010foxy​​

@darlingwhump​​

@emcscared-whumps​​

@nicolepascaline​​

@oddsconvert​​

@pumpkin-spice-whump​​

@soursagas​​

@thecyrulik​​

@whump-cravings​​

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump​​

@whumpycries​​

@annablogsposts

@badluck990

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@ceph-the-writing-spook

@cicatrix-energy

@crying-wings

@crystalquartzwhump

@cupcakes-and-pain

@cyberneticfire

@darlingwhump

@deluxewhump

@down-in-the-whumps

@elrysdoesstuff

@emcscared-whumps

@extemporary-whump

@extrabitterbrain​

@iamtheshriekingguineapig​

@icyheart-and-friends​

@inpainandsuffering​

@interdimensional-chaos​

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast​

@lactose-intolerant-egg​

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps​

@littlespacecastle​

@little-whumpee

@lost-in-labradorite-halls​

@magziemakeswhatever​

@melancholy-in-the-morning​

@morning-star-whump​

@myhusbandsasemni​

@mylifeisonthebookshelf​

@neverthelass​

@nicolepascaline​

@nine-tailed-whump​

@no-terms-and-conditions-apply

@not-a-space-alien​

@nyooom​

@octopus-reactivated​

@oddsconvert​

@onlybadendings​

@owencarvourenthusiast

@pigeonwhumps​

@pumpkin-spice-whump​

@quietly-by-myself​

@quirkykayleetam​

@ramadiiiisme​

@redwhump​

@scp-1296​

@secretwhumplair​

@the-whumperfly-effect​

@the-whumpers-grimm​

@thecyrulik​

@thegreatwhodini​

@themarlo​

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight​

@t0rture-me​

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff​

@whuarri​

@whump-blog-reblogs​

@whump-cravings​

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump​

@whump-me-all-night-long​

@whump-my-heart-away​

@whump-queen​

@whumperfully​

@whumpthisway​

@whumpilicious​

@whumpshaped​

@whumpwillow​

@whumpworld​

@whumpy-writings​

@whumpycries​

@whumpyzombie​

@whumpzone​

@wits-and-wrongs

@wolfeyedwitch​

[dearratthey]

“You’re consumed by the memory of fruit and candy. Can’t you see we need you here?”

His stern thick voice shot a dagger into the Double Yefreitor’s throat. He opened his mouth but nothing came from it but the stale rotten scent of cavities soaked in cheap liquor. Him and Jean held eye contact for a long quiet moment; mental tug of war.

The younger man threw his hands into the air and spun to face away from his partner, hands eventually moving to cover his face. An exasperated dry sigh leaves his throat. His shoulders fall like cinderblocks dropped onto them. His body ached all over. Lack of sleep and proper meals starting to take their toll on the satellite officer’s body. Harry stayed standing, unmoving, and watched his partner stand opposite to him behind his desk. His pale eyes scanned the sea of paperwork stacked and scattered across the mahogany desk. Sticky notes posted in almost every clear space with quickly written harsh reminders. The Detective watched as a few papers quietly floated down onto the carpet.

Their job was not an easy one to put it simply. Precinct 41 covered the greater Jamrock area and between the high crime rate and understaffing of officers, they were doing the work of 3 precincts alone. The distant ring of the phones constantly purr on the other side of the door followed by the robotic scripted opening by one of the radio receivers. Another murder. Another domestic dispute. Another OD. Another…. Always something. Even now Harry could feel Jean thinking that this was a big waste of time and he should be knee deep in organizing his case files. A strong pang of guilt pierced his heart. He wondered if Jean felt it too.

“Look Harry…” He spoke finally, and although his accent was coarse, he was softer now. “You’re a great officer and a better partner but I can’t keep doing this.”

Turning to face the disheveled man again, the satellite officer grabs two handfuls of paper and shakes them towards Harry. “I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“It’s Hell without her, Vic.”

“Well it’s Hell without you.”

Jean’s face crumbled with tension as he searched the other, looking for any answers that would help this. He wanted to fix this. He wanted his partner back. His mentor. The man he admires crumbled into a disgusting pile of garbage and incompetence by a woman.

“Six years, Harry. Six years. When will you stop killing yourself over her?.”

Harry could almost smile. Jean has always been blunt when it comes to emotion like this. He’s felt it all and he’s survived. Harry couldn’t be so lucky. Feels so deeply with no way to contain it and process it just a disaster contained in a jar that’s been rolled down stone steps. He knew the younger man was right, it’s been far too long to be lamenting over young love gone wrong but every night she found him in his dreams and every night he begged her to stay and every night she left him again. The ouroboros of love and heartbreak over and over and over like an old skipping VHS tape.

But the Double Yefreitor could not muster a response that would make his other feel better so he said nothing at all. So Officer Vicquemare gives up. There is an understanding between them that’s indecipherable to everyone else. Not a lot of conversation but they both know where each of them stands and the stakes. Comes in handy in dangerous cases.

“We have a case in Martinaise. Dead militia officer hanging publicly behind a Hostel building. We’re making the trip tomorrow.” Jean tosses a file into Harry’s hands and begins to leave the room, pausing at the last moment but keeping his gaze forward out the door. “Don’t let me down again, Harry. I don’t know if I can take any more of this.”

And he left. Harry stayed standing in the center of the office, feeling the smooth Manila folder in his hands. Somewhere a body sways in a tree and two children lob stones at it. A woman with a thousand yard stare sits in her room smoking a cigarette and watching her window glass being replaced. A street backed up with lorries and angry workers. Harry grips the case debrief tighter and takes a deep and determined breath. Something is coming and this time he wants to be ready. Although, everyone knows disco beats determination.

[itsnotreal]

'' what i'm about to ask you, might be a little... inappropriate. '' :))

Harry dipped a fry into ranch before popping it into his mouth. Fuck. Ranch was for sure the superior condiment. He'd just finished a three hour appointment for his car. Yes, three hours waiting at the car dealership for an oil change. Apparently they were understaffed. So, naturally, he was starving and decided to get a bite to eat from the local burger chain, and his favorite place, Blue Jay.

He grabbed the avocado bacon burger he'd ordered in his hands and took a decently sized bite, humming contently while he chewed though he almost choked when someone slid into the booth beside him, ramming into his side a harshly.

With a grunt of disapproval, he turned to see who it was and frowned at them as he swallowed.

"What I'm about to ask you, might be a little... inappropriate." Louis Tomlinson, the bane of his existence, said with a serious tone.

"How about instead of asking, you just- go away?" Harry deadpanned and reached out for another fry.

Louis swatted it out of his hand, "I'm serious, please? Just this once can you be nice?"

Harry's jaw dropped, head snapping back to the blue-eyed man. "Me? You just smacked my food out of my hand!"

Louis just gave him a bored look.

'What do you want, Lewis?"

"I love when you say my name like that." His voice dripped with mock-arousal. "Okay, look. I may have told one of the workers here that you were my boyfriend-."

"Excuse-?"

"-It's rude to interrupt someone."

Harry's mouth pinched together. As if Louis hadn't just interrupted his lunch. "I can't believe I'm saying this but- Go on." He sighed.

"Thank you." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, the guy will not leave me alone, it's borderline harassment at this point and I really just want to have lunch in peace."

"You still haven't asked me a question."

"Oh, right." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can you just, like, pretend to be my boyfriend. We can be on a date or something?"

"Or we could just- be eating lunch."

Louis eyes widened, "So you're down?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply that no he was not down, but a different waiter than the one that had been previously helping him came up to the table with a plate of food.

"One mushroom Swiss burger, with fries and honey mustard." The man said, eyes boring into Harry's very angrily as he sat the plate in front of Louis.

"Great, thanks, Jessie." Louis said with a smile, scooting closer to Harry.

Jessie turned his attention on Louis, the angry gaze melting off his face and into something that resembled adoration. For Louis? Gross. "Anything for you, my love. Let me know if you need anything else."

Harry raised his hand, "I could actually use-."

"Not you." Jessie said with an eye roll and then he walked away.

Harry frowned, "Well, okay."

Louis snickered around a bite of French fry. "You look like a frog."

Harry sighed, "Just shut up and eat your nasty honey mustard."

[selamat-linting]

one of my worst managers ever is this dude when i was working in a department store in 2019. the job is kinda shit to begin with, they never hire enough people, we're so understaffed i had to open the store alone and operate the cash register on my second day, and ofc there's that one time i pissed in a bag. but this manager makes things worse

this manager is a regional middle management guy visiting for a couple of days before fucking off somewhere else. he's a cunt. i dont like him. he made us do this pointless meetings that doesnt count as actual work hours but he will fire you if you dont go. and he kept talking on and on about how bad workplace theft is, reminding us youre going to hell for that. as if that old fart isnt going to hell first for cutting our pay and forcing us do unpaid overtime.

worst part is that a few of my coworkers listened to him. they work themselves to the bone and got all paranoid accusing ppl of possible theft everytime we slacked off on counting the stock. i had a fight with a coworker because of it. mostly shoving and yelling but i could tell the only reason i havent got sucker punched by my coworker is because i was a woman at the time.

in short, this man came in, made our shift manager yelled at two girls until they cry, ramble about his wife having cancer that are cured with exercise only and stories of guilt tripping minimum wage workers that theyre going to hell for stealing a pair of pants that costs three day of working full time, and then left us with a tense and uncomfortable workplace environment. all in the span of two weeks. no wonder i called myself a communist after they forced all of us who got laid off in the pandemic to sign a resignation letter so they dont have to pay for a severance package.

but all in all, it was actually one of my comfier jobs. the pressure to sell wasnt there, my coworkers are generally lovely people, and i really like the menial work, outside stock counts. i've been randomly remembering this because this date would be around the time i got laid off at that job, exactly five years ago.

[skruffie]

the first disaster monday for the rest of my career at the eye place was today :)

Most of the day was not actually a disaster, but what’s happening right now is a lot of “labor restructuring” in which stores that are not doing well are being encouraged to trim hours and transfer employees to stores that are understaffed. We recently just lost our full time clinical tech so our part-time tech is moving into her position, but because my boss wasn’t willing to cut my hours from 40 to 30 the next option was going after our other part timer. He was given the option to transfer to one of the other stores, therefore adding like a 2 hour commute each way for him or he could take a severance of 2 weeks’ pay. He opted for the severance.

Mondays we don’t have a doctor so typically it’s been me and one of the part time employees basically there to dispense glasses, ring up orders, etc. Since now we no longer have any part time employees, the option on Mondays are now I work alone or my boss works 6 days a week. Both are unfair. Right now, the plan is to see if our assistant manager has any flexibility with his kid’s daycare needs so we could work together Mondays but I told him not to try to force flexibility if there is none. The kid comes first.

For the majority of the day today it really wasn’t so bad, but naturally 30 minutes before close and right when my coworker is about to clock out for the last time we had like five people in the store come in all at once while I was busy working on a 2 pair glasses order for a patient and trying to get price quotes, and though we were sitting directly in front of our luxury wall, I knew that at least one of the folks behind us was taking frames. There might’ve been a 2nd person helping him but she also wanted to schedule an appointment (???) so she might’ve just been idly browsing. Three frames ended up missing. The patient I was helping was like “I’m delaying a bit because I really don’t want to leave you alone in here with him” (and the two other people that were now waiting).

However, because I knew this was going to be A Problem, I already had a plan. The second I clocked on I spent about 10 minutes making a 6 x 11 table and writing down every single model number on the luxury wall where each frame was located in it’s corresponding square. I know exactly which frames were taken. I couldn’t really get a description of the guy unfortunately because the dudes that came in had the exact same haircut and also I was busy working alone with a patient. This is going to be every Monday for me now from open to close.

I do love my job, but this is also the exact reason why I’ve been trying to take my time to see if I’m really passionate about it. I don’t want to invest a lot of hope and confidence into something that’s just going to burn me because I already put myself through that working at the state government job. Right now, they’re setting the stores up to fail so let’s let them fucking fail.

[locallyloathed]

I just need to bitch and I don’t have pen and paper to angrily scratch my grievances on and then burn so I’m just gonna scream it into the void. Please disregard.

Where to start, where to start. We’ll run it through a standard day.

Wake up at 4:00 AM - not a problem, I’m an early morning person and wake up naturally around then anyway.

Have to deal with 7 fucking cats in the house. I love cats, favorite animal, but I only signed up to deal with 3.

I live in my older sisters house. When I first moved in, it was agreed that my rent would be dirt cheap if I would just take care of 3 of the cats, with her taking care of the one on her side. I agreed.

I later brought my mom’s elderly cat to save him from being given up. Not a prob, it’s my cat, I’ll deal with it.

Sister moves out to live with her boyfriend half an hour away, and doesn’t bother checking on her other cat. 5 cats. I take care of 5 cats.

Friend moves in “temporarily,” loves my cats, gets their own. Sweet, we get food and water and a litter box in their room for her. So they take care of her? No! They never refill the food/water or clean the litter box and just lock her out of their room, so I get to take care of her. 6 cats.

My fucking sister decides to adopt a special needs cats that she knows damn well I’m gonna have to take care of until she moves back in. 7 cats, one with a whole list of complications I have to watch out for.

I now take care of more than twice the number I agreed to do with no compensation.

I go to open in a fast food restaurant. Ordinarily, fine. Prep work comes naturally to me, and my coworkers leave me alone most of the time. It’s AB opening.

How the hell she hasn’t been fired is beyond anyone’s understanding. Worse manager we’ve ever had, and one used to sell weed through the window.

Once spent an understaffed 3 hour lunch rush in the managers office on her damn phone, got real pissy with me for telling her we needed help. I got pissy right back. Tried to write me up for insubordination, was shot down when the GM looked at the camera footage.

She knows I work hard to make everything run on time in the mornings and will take 6 smoke breaks an hour and has to be strong armed into doing basic tasks.

If another manager is there, they have to babysit her to make sure she does her fucking job. Exception is the GM and AM, who she acts buddy-buddy with in hopes of making them forget how horrible she is at being a manager. This always works.

The only reason she became a manager was because I refused the promotion due to the mistreatment of all of my favorite managers, who were equally if not more hardworking than me and got taken advantage of frequently as a result.

Stand over a fryer for 3 hours, then over a hotwell full of food for 3 more. I have one 15 minute break in the middle, with only the first hour and fifth hour being a break from the heat. Did I mention the AC in our store is fully broken?

I go home. It’s a mess. My roommate has left food on the table and crumbs all over the couch. At least it’s not the full bowls of food they leave in their bedroom knowing full well that I’m terrified of ants (which they find funny.) Rather than clean up after themself, they are yelling at their friends over the discord call they leave running at all times. I start to understand why their parents kicked them out.

Broaching the subject of chores just results in a woe-is-me speech about how hard they work and how I said I’d be willing to clean up the house (I specified a few minor messes when they moved in). I can’t respond, because I get pissed off quickly and have a fucking personality disorder that makes me shut down when I’m upset.

I don’t speak to them unless necessary and usually lock myself away in my room to get space due to always being upset. They attempt to guilt trip me over my behavior, give me the silent treatment when that doesn’t work, and then clean up one (1) mess and apologize. We do this again next week.

I just needed to get this whole situation off my chest. I don’t want to make them move out, they’re still my friend, and my job isn’t that bad, I love all my sisters cats, but just. I need a break. I need to go far away. I need to stop being perceived by any of these people. I need to be dead for a year or two.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I am exhausted. I'm exhausted and I can't keep going at my job. I just can't do this anymore.

The last three days at work have been hell.

First day: I show up and there's no one there. I start work an hour after the store opens and two hours after someone else should've arrived. There was no one. So I texted my boss and started all of the prep, but I wasn't going to open without someone else because fuck that. Finally one of my coworkers showed up because he overslept. To his credit he apologized. Then it was just the two of us for three hours until another coworker came in. Two people didn't show up that day. One called out sick and one just decided not to come.

Second day: The worst and the one I'm saltiest about. I show up and the store isn't open again, but at least there's a coworker there. I didn't see her at first because she was asleep. So we opened, and it was just the two of us for FIVE HOURS until someone else came in. It was the three of us for a single hour until one had to leave and there were just two of us. During peak time. I decided to shut down the drive thru because again, two of us, but a manager from fhe gas station (I work in a restaurant connected to a gas station) came over and told me it had to stay open or I could be fired. The way she said it was so fucking condescending, I nearly told her she could fire me and considered walking out. But I didn't. I had to stay an hour later because only one person, my coworker, was scheduled for that hour and I didn't want to leave him alone. It was so busy we didn't have a chance to breathe, but I still managed to finish a couple end of shift things. Not everything, but some. After that extra hour I HAD TO LEAVE and I apologized to the next manager, told him it was just the two of us and told him what I had managed, and that I needed to go. He just said "Okay." He didn't say "Can you wait while I see if there's anything I need you to do?" Or "Before you go can you finish X?" If he had I would've. But he said "Okay." And I had to fucking go. And again, I had done a surprising amount for the fact that there were two of us. To do everything. All day.

Third day: I show up and there are only two of us again. An hour passes and two more people are supposed to arrive. They don't. They didn't call out, they just didn't show up. Finally, an hour and a half after his shift was supposed to start, one of the two showed up. Three of us running everything. An hour before close one of them had to leave, so it was two of us to close. We stayed an hour and a half late. That's midnight thirty btw. We stayed until midnight thirty because people decided not to fucking show up to their goddamn job and I had to pick up their slack.

Then today, there was a manager's meeting. That includes me. In that meeting, the manager from the second day said, to the damn general manager "I know they were short staffed, but so were we, and this is unacceptable" and handed the GM a list of the shit we hadn't gotten done. Y'know, after I stayed an hour late, after running a shift with two people on one of our busiest days. And by the way, he had four people. Four people for a closing shift is a fucking luxury. He wasn't short staffed by any stretch of the imagination, but he had the fucking audacity to complain about me.

I can't keep doing this. Three days like that nearly killed me. On that second day I cried after my shift because it was so frustrating and overwhelming. It's taking such a horrible toll on me. I dread going to work because I'm afraid it's going to keep being like this. I'm afraid I'm going to show up and no one will be there, or I'll have to deal with a rush with just two people, or some asshole manager will call me out at a meeting with every manager for not being able to leave the restaurant spotless after I stayed a fucking hour late, after running a shift with two fucking people. I wish I didn't have to pay rent because I want to quit. This is ridiculous and I shouldn't have to put up with it, but here I am, putting up with it and still getting shit for it. No matter what I do, no matter the shit they give me, I provide service with a smile and I get absolutely nothing but shit in return.

This is why I hate being a fucking reliable worker. I'm expected to do everything and do it perfectly, while other people will do less than the bare minimum and it's tolerated. I'm held to a higher standard, I'm expected to do all of this and not have a single complaint, but people are welcome to complain about me. I wish I could just not care and not work hard and not show up for half of my shifts, but of course I can't. I can't keep doing this, because one day I'm going to have to run a two person shift or deal with a shitty customer or manager, and I'm just going to walk out and not come back. I don't deserve this shit but of course I'm stuck dealing with it, dealing with the crap that everyone leaves me. I work my ass off all the time, then I have one of the shittiest days ever and can't manage to leave the restaurant perfect, and I get called out in front of everyone. Fuck him. Fuck him fuck him fuck him. I've been pissed about this all day which is why I just had to get it out. I can't keep fucking doing this. I shouldn't have to.

[heartspiked]

that’s not how you pray | eddie munson

summary: eddie wants you to know he’s not guilty

content warning: cursing, crying obvi, mentions of blood, angst

songs that inspired this: hey lover by the daughter of eve + do you want to die together by stars

you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in weeks and it was tearing you apart for more than one reason. you so desperately needed to talk to him and you know he needed you too. it was hard dating a high schooler who flunked more than once and attend college a couple hours away from the sleepy little town of hawkins. arriving in hawkins made your stomach churn in all the wrong ways. there wasn’t kids riding their bikes around town and even a curfew had been implemented. you didn’t even attempt to visit his trailer in fear the police would question you and slow you down in your search for your “murderer satanic” boyfriend. you really needed to talk to him. to sort things out.

you knew he was chicken hearted and wouldn’t hurt a fly. literally, he asked you to step on spiders and those furry worms that stung you if you touched them. he learned his lesson and visited the hospital convinced he was dying. from then on you became designated bug killer. gripping your steering wheel and clenching your jaw you made your way from house to house of eddie’s known friends and associates. they were all dead ends completely fucking useless. his so called band members had no idea where he was and you just wanted to hear his voice to make you feel better. you hoped he wasn’t alone somewhere by himself. when three days went by you decided to risk going to visit his trailer.

it was late and you were speeding but the police, if you could even call them that, were far too understaffed and useless. you sped into the trailer park past the police tape and swerved into an bad parking job not even bothering to turn the engine off. the lights were on! they were on! you threw the door of his trailer open to see one of the little lost lambs dirty and scared. he turned to you in pure shock and you never felt more relieved.

“it’s eddie! he… hee stayed! we need to get him!” it was then you noticed the unmissable massive fucking hole in the ceiling. you didn’t even know what to say you couldn’t stop smiling that you were so close to seeing eddie. you were massively freaked as you watched dustin dash and jump up a chair and onto the roof and you followed him. you didn’t know why his friends were so weird dressed in a homemade medieval knight outfit but you’d make sure to question him. “we don’t have time hurry up, (y/n)!”

you grunted and pulled yourself halfway up the hole before dustin lifted you up and you both were sprinting out the trailer door. unfortunately for you dustin was limping behind and you couldn’t even begin to process what you were seeing. it looked like pure hell and it scared you oh god did it scare you. you didn’t think the crazy conspiracy theorists were right when they said there was hell in hawkins. you laughed it off but holy shit you’d never seen more red in your lifetime. hawkins looked like a deserted town filled with ugly thick vines and dead trees and the hoard of crazy killer bats?

oh my god. it’s eddie. it’s eddie! “eddie! dustin i see him!” your screamed was terribly loud. he’s hurt. you hurried over to him as fast as your legs could take you. they felt crazy numb as your knees skidded on the ground and hurt terribly. “eddie baby my love! you’re okay you’re okay.” you cooed and ran your hand through his tangled hair. eddie gave a gigantic smile,”you’re here… i’m so glad i can see you.” he said weekly and with his cute little laugh he did when he was nervous. you put your hands on his wound. you knew that in all the movies it was best to keep pressure on wounds you knew that. “i wanted you to know i’m sorry for running away i didn’t kill chrissy… i didn’t.” you shook your head tears in your eyes. “eddie shut up i believe you! i never doubted you for a second babe.” you cried out as he placed his hand in yours.

he weakly slipped one of his rings on your finger and you shook your head,”keep it you’ll thinking you lost it babe..” you dug your face into his neck and sobbed as you tried to pull him or pick him up with dustin’s help. eddie started slipping off as he spoke to dustin and you couldn’t let him, no you couldn’t. you two had a life ahead of you. he’d finally graduate. he would you knew it. you slapped his face gently, “baby! seriously baby! you can’t slip off right now you’re gonna be fine!” eddie looked at the curly haired boy sitting on his other side and they both had sympathetic looks. you hated it. he said i love you to his underling and supposed acolyte.

his eyes began to be swallowed by darkness and you couldn’t take it any longer. “please baby! eddie.. edward baby i’m pregnant.. i’m pregnant! it’s our baby..” eddie’s tears began to flow as he grabbed your stomach weakly. “you need to be here for the baby!” you sobbed hitting his chest. he smiled this big fucking shit eating grin that you loved so much. being raised in a religious house you felt like this was punishment how dare the lord how dare god take the love of your life. how dare he. you did all your hail marys and all your confessions on sundays every week since you were young. “stay alive… if not for me for the baby!” you pleaded your sobs deafening.

your throat was raw and burning painfully,“i love you and our unborn baby. i know you’ll be the best mom i love you. find steve okay?” you shook your head as you watched the love of your life take his last few breaths. you kissed his face erratically. “i don’t want steve i want you baby..” you sobbed uncontrollably as dustin tried to pull you away from the munson boy. you wanted to die there and then you wanted to go with him so bad, so fucking bad. you cried into your cold lovers chest for what seemed like hours. you left the body of the man you loved behind. your unconditional love in a place you didn’t understand could exist. you knew he’d never want to be alone ever.

you knew him better than anybody and you had planned a joking little argument for when you’d find him but you’d never play fight with him again and it killed you to see him bloody and surrounded by fucking hideous demon bats. you knew no one would ever know his innocence or his personality and how he was heaven on earth. how your baby would never know how good their daddy was at guitar or hear his band preform live or teach them how to play dungeons and dragons. you knew he wanted a baby girl. you talked about it when you’d get high in his van when you’d meet each other half way from your college on nights he didn’t have his club. you knew he’d want to take care of his baby.

you felt like the earth swallowed him silently the day he died.

[hunterofthemist]

Strength of the Meek

Carrying a paper bag Dave walks into the cafeteria. He looks around the room and sees Kotzal waving him over. He walks over to him and sits down with Kotzal at a noticeably empty table.

"Hey Dave, how are you?" Kotzal asks with a grin. "You dont have to rub it in, I had no idea you were a natural," Dave grumbles.

"It's just that when you showed me the rules I realized how similar they were to a game I used to play on Geon. Thrum If I remember correctly." Kotzal and dave talk for some time, the topic changes quickly from poker to physical ability.

"How strong are humans anyway? I've seen your movies but you said they aren't a good representation of human strength." Kotzal asks intrigued.

"Were strong enough. Enough to take down something bigger than us, at least with some planning that is." Dave answers. "I mean back when humans still dwelled in caves we took down wooly mammoths, which were beasts around three times the size of a human."

"Oh, I didn't know that. It's pretty impressive to hear." Kotzal says more than intrigued at this point.

"What about when a human has to do something impossible, just to keep the ones they care about alive. What do you do then?" He asks, his face getting a bit more solemn.

"We push on, do whatever it takes, even if it means we tear ourselves apart doing so," Dave says with a look of sincerity. He then breaks the look and smiles warmly. "What's got you asking a question like that?"

Kotzal laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head. "I dont know, I just heard stories over the Ether."

The conversation ends as the buzzer goes off on everyone's watch. "Shit thought we had more time for lunch break. That blows." Dave sighs.

Dave and Kotzal start walking down a hallway towards their respective stations. Halfway towards Dave's station, the alarm sounds, as well as an explosion in a nearby hallway.

"What was that!" Kotzal panics, immediately hiding behind dave and shaking. Dave reacts accordingly, not to the explosion but to Kotzal hiding behind him. "Woah dude, you good?"

"Oh sorry, my species is a prey species on my home planet. We get jumpy when stuff like this happens."

Dave chuckles at the thought, "you know if you did this around the others im pretty sure they wouldn't be able to see you." His attention focuses back on the sound. " We should go check out what happened, we're engineers after all."

Kotzal steps out from behind dave nervously and agrees. They walk down the hallway towards the commotion. Smoke billows out of the walls, embers pour out of the holes as well.

A hulking beast pulls its way out of the hole, it had to be around 8 and a half feet tall. Just as dave gets a look at it, several more come out of the walls. Kotzal grabs dave and pulls him around the corner, away from the beasts.

"Get down! Those are Tarvok pirates. We need to go, we do Not want to pick a fight with those." Kotzal is freaking out, likely having a panic attack. He tries to pull Dave with him. Dave doesn't budge, instead, he stares at the wall and puts his hand on it. "I cant."

Kotzal gets more anxious and frenzied, pulling harder on Dave. "No We have to go, David dont do this." In response, Dave grins and puts his head on the cold metal wall. "I said I cant, This station is my baby. I've fixed her more than anyone else. I can't leave her."

Dave turns to Kotzal and continues. "Not to mention the number of people these guys could hurt. You know how far the nearest guard post is, and how understaffed it is. If I turn tail and run countless people will die. But If I distract them, buy us some time. Maybe I can save a few lives."

"But you'll die! You'll get killed, I can't have you do that. I can't lose you, You're the only one who even respects me, let alone is nice to me." He says as tears start to form in his four eyes.

Daves grin breaks and he pulls Kotzal into a hug, Kotzal's small stature causing him to look like a small child not wanting their parent to leave. "That's not happening. I ain't gonna die." Dave thinks for a moment and goes on. "How about you help me, I dont buy this scared child Schtick. There's something there, something strong. I can see that."

Dave breaks the hug and pulls a knife from his belt, and hands it over to him. Kotzal stares at the blade for a second and takes the knife and nods in agreement. "Use your speed and stature to your advantage. there's a lot of smoke, try to use that."

Dave and total talk for a minute discussing plans and strategies after they're done he grabs a pipe on the wall and rips it off, but not before speaking to the station itself. "Sorry about this."

Walking around the corner Dave bangs the pipe on the wall, getting the army of Tarvok's attention. "Hey you brutes, eyes on me." He says, resting the pipe on his shoulder.

One of the Tarvok's starts walking over to Dave with a look of hunger and anger. Dave grins, this being a part of his plan, and stomps on a jagged and sharp piece of metal, launching it into the air. To which Kotzal leaves cover from behind Dave and grabs the piece of metal and throws it into the eye of the Tarvok.

"See, I told you no one would be able to see you back there." Dave jokes. He takes a step forward and inspects the now corpse of the Tarvok. "Oh damn, straight into the eye." Kotzal meekly responds to the compliment. "Thanks, it was heavier than Im used to so I didn't think it hit where I wanted to."

"You're a good shot, keep it up." Dave compliments. For a split second, Dave swore he could see Kotzal's cheeks turn blue.

Dave starts walking forward towards the rest of the army, beckoning them to come to fight him. One soldier takes a step forward to fight. The hulking beast throws a punch towards Dave but he sides steps it and slams his weapon into a pipe next to the Tarvok.

The soldier notices this and started to laugh but a second later the pipe bursts and hot steam starts to burn the soldier and causing it to fall to the floor.

The next one rushes Dave and throws a punch at him, he absorbs the blow into his shoulder and uses the force to spin himself around and slam the pipe into the soldier's skull.

At the display of force, the rest of the Tarvok's take a step back from the carnage. "Hey Kotzal, I think I fucked my shoulder up. It's your turn. " Dave says quietly so the brutes in front of them won't hear. "Yeah, let's do it." He responds, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

Dave starts to run towards the group of Tarvok's with Kotzal following. Before he gets too close he ducks down and arches his back and Kotzal jumps off his back and launches himself toward the enemy.

With one hand he throws a sharp piece of metal in the neck of one of the soldiers and with the other he stabs another with the knife Dave gave him.

The last one is in front of them, he's bigger than the rest. Probably the leader. "Let me handle this one," Dave says as he blocks Kotzal from moving forward with the pipe.

Looking at the pipe in his hand, Dave realizes that the pipe is way too damaged to continue to be useful. He takes a step forward and throws the thing as hard as he can. The pipe flies through the air and when it's about to hit, the leader catches it.

As soon as he threw the pipe Dave started running towards the beast but only noticed that he caught the pipe when he was too close to do anything. The Leader propels his knee into Daves's gut, the spike on it spearing into dave.

"Oh fuck!" He screams as the spike goes through him. He falls back and tries to stop the bleeding. Another scream is heard, not of pain but rage. "You Fucker!" It's Kotzal, with the look of pure rage in his eyes.

"I'll kill you!" He screams as he starts running towards him. As he reaches him he jumps at the leader to get a clear shot at him. In retaliation, the Tarvok grabs him by the neck and holds him in the air. Kotzal doesn't seem to notice, the anger blinding him. He starts slashing wildly at the beast in front of him, a good majority hitting their targets.

Kotzal gets a good stab into the arm of the beast holding him, causing him to be dropped.

While on the ground he stabs the blade into the back of the knee of the Tarvok leader making him fall to his knees, lining him up for a stab to the side of his head, killing him.

He keeps stabbing the now dead Tarvok, more out of rage than him being unsure he's dead. After a few dozen stabs he stops and takes a second to breathe and remembers Dave. He turns around and sprints towards Dave.

He starts trying to help him staunch the bleeding and stabilize him. "No, no-no-no. Dont do this, you cant." He starts tearing up trying to help him.

"It's okay, you did well. Didn't expect the fucker to catch the pipe. I think this is it" Dave says as he rests on the wall, trying to do whatever he can to stop the bleeding.

"Dont say that! You'll be fine, I know what im doing. I can help you." Kotzal says frantically.

Dave looks at him and puts his bloodied hand on his shoulder. "You can't save me, an injury like this is impossible to fix up."

"Shut up!" Kotzals shouts as he slaps dave. "We aren't in the medical dark ages, You know how strong modern medicine is." a grin forms on Daves face as he shrugs. "Whatever you say," he says as his vision fades to black and passes out.

Daves eyes open and the bright light blinds him, "hey your awake." a familiar voice says. His eyes adjust to the light and he sees that Kotzal is sitting on the chair next to his bed.

Dave groans in pain as he tries to sit up. Kotzal puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him. "Dumbass, you can adjust the bed." He laughs, handing him the switch.

"How long was I out?" He asks as he raises the head of his bed. "About two days. You had us worried for a little while." Kotzal responds with a smile.

"You can't kill me that easily, its gonna take a lot more than that, I still have work to do here." He smiles back.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Kotzal asks. "The engines been making a thunking noise for the past week, I still figure out what the hell the problem is." They both start laughing for a minute and after they stop a silence is formed between them, which is promptly broken ten seconds later by dave. "Hey after they discharge me, do you wanna go to the bar and get a few drinks? I'll buy."

"Sure thing, I'd love to."

[nanamis-aiko]

Non"Lethal"

a/n: Haha. Self-issues and self-projects. But I did this one at least. Now let's go.

[🗺][🌸][🏐][1][3]

"You seem to be calmer about being here than everyone would have expected."

I looked at Kiyoko. Her eyes were serious even though her expression didn't change much but her eyes were sullen.

"Would you believe it, Nee-san?" I spoke before I could think. "I went through a lot when I ran away. No one was going to hire me because I was just a kid. People who took me in were worst off than I was." I felt a lump in my throat. "Debts, blood, tears..." I raised my head to stop my tears. "We couldn't even sweat to live. When I was an adult, I just applied to the nearest job I could find."

Kiyoko put her hand gently on my back.

"None of it is your fault."

"But that doesn't change the fact that I am part of the blame." I lowered my head and wiped my tears and exhaled. "I know Nii-san isn't going to make me do the dirty work so at least with the help of the Date Tech, I can pull a bit of weight. Where's Hitoka?"

The door opened hastily and Hitoka came in whilst catching her breath. "Sorry, I got lost for a bit."

I chuckled. "That's okay. I need help with your father's company, do you have records of their finances?"

"Yes, I do." Hitoka nodded.

"Right, the contract signing is today, we can immediately start with the meeting if your father accepts the terms. We need to rebuild the company before we could rebuild the family's businesses."

"I'll inform Daichi after everything."

"Is your father about to come?" I looked at Hitoka.

"Father said he'll be here after lunch."

"Oh, in that case. We could just come together when they arrive. I'll be at the gym."

I left the two in my room. I walked in the direction of the gym but slowly.

"They all came in my room last night." I hugged myself for comfort. "That means they saw it. My back." I ran to the nearest bathroom and gagged but nothing came up. "Fuck..." I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror.

I know I'm looking at myself but I feel like I don't recognize the person in front of me. Have I really changed? Then why does it feel like I'm still looking at the kid that ran away years ago?

I finally got to the gym and saw Nii-san with four of the rookies. "Uhm... what's going on?"

"Hinata and Kageyama challenged your brother in a fight." Ennoshita answered.

"What? Are they crazy?!" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Your brother told them that if they keep fighting they are not gonna join the family."

"They fought again?"

"Yeah, Tanaka was training them and they started a competition with themselves and got overboard."

I dropped my head on my hand. Is this what the family came to? Well, this is better than the family I feared before I guess.

I came up to them. "Nii-san, why don't you take a breather?"

Nii-san huffed and walked away. "You have until this weekend. The terms are final."

I sighed deeply and faced them. "You guys are in deep challenging the head of the family like that. You're lucky my brother isn't some bloodthirsty prick."

The two men look down in embarrassment. I sighed again. "So, what do you need to do?"

The two men were shocked by my words.

"They're going to run a simulation." Tanaka answered for them.

"Right, just tell the others that I'm letting you use the practice range." I exhaled. "I'm gonna go take a walk."

I left everyone in the gym and went straight to the garden. I collapsed on the nearest tree I could go to.

"Family is too small. Finances are lower than a typical mafia family." I sighed. "What a life."

"You're not supposed to be alone."

I looked and saw Tsukishima standing by me.

"We're understaffed. I'm sure you men have better things to do than babysit someone."

Tsukishima put his hand on his waist and fixed his glasses as he sighs. "I'm a defence specialist. Unfortunately, your safety is my job."

I chuckled and stood up and fixed my clothes. "Relax, tall guy. No one's got their eyes on this family. It's up to you guys if you want that to change or not. The other rookies might actually want that." I faced him. "How about you?" I walked away. "You better be careful around those two. They're powerful."

"Fear not, Princess." He smiled. "One thing you're never going to see is me losing."

I would slam the door if I could. "One thing you're never going to see is me losing." I mocked. "What if I punch him? Hmm! how about that?" I opened the fridge and got something to drink. "Fucking son of a--"

"Since when did you use that language?" Nii-san glared at me with a raised brow and crossed arms.

"Holy sh-" I flinched and grabbed onto my drink tight. I stopped myself from cussing then I remembered a very important detail. "Nii-san. I am way past my teens."

He narrowed his eyes at me and I can immediately tell what he wanted to say.

"I know, unladylike..." I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "But I'm not trying to be a lady. I'm a woman." I laughed.

Nii-san finally laughed. He leaned on the counter and sighed deeply. "I guess a lot of things has changed for you, huh?"

I hummed and looked at him. His face was melancholic. I scratched the back of my neck as I think about his question. "I don't know... Not really?" I questioned my own answer. "But at least the world changed a few right?" I quickly steered to a different topic. "I was kind of happy that the gov people implemented a non-lethal law in civilian settings. But you know some criminals won't do that. Smuggling live ammo will be the craze. Unless someone finds a way to make the non-lethals lethal"

"So I've heard. A lot of gangs have been doing so- trying to do so. They're trying to catch up with two of the most powerful families in the prefecture."

"Who are they?"

"Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa."

"I see. Well, we wouldn't be on their radar in our situation, right?"

"With our situation now, not one gang is even looking our way." Nii-san tilted his head up as he let out his annoyance."

I chuckled. I patted my hand on his shoulder like he always did for me. "Don't mind. I'm sure it'll work out. There's something about those rookies that I feel good about."

[5]

taglist: @sh4nn

© Alfi. Altercations and republications are not allowed. Support the owner.

[kitwalkerswife]

Request! Can you do one where the reader is a dom! And sub!kit and it kinda catches him by surprise 😈

Kitchen Duty(Kit Walker)

summary: (the anon basically) in the asylum kitchen

warnings: nsfw, smut, SUB KIT, DOM READER, FEMALE READER, oral(male receiving), rough sex

my first anon! thank you, i hope you like it :)

You and Kit usually liked to hang out together in the asylum. It felt like he was the only one, you could talk to and he didn't judge you for your past. Even though he was an innocent man, he knew that you weren't, but it seemed like he didn't care. You guys weren't involved romantically but you did tend to flirt with each other, here and there. "Hey y/n, how ya feeling after those lashes you got earlier?" Kit asked. You had gotten punished earlier because you wouldn't take your medication and spit them out in the nuns face. That costed you 10 painful lashes. "They've eased down a bit, just don't slap my ass and I should be okay." You laughed. "You'll have to remind me." Kit smirked.

It had started getting late and everyone was getting put into their cells to sleep. You and Kit had a plan to sneak out and chill in the kitchen though because you both wanted some time to yourselves alone. You were so into doing this because you actually wanted to make a move on Mr.Walker. You were a bit nervous, because you didn't know how he felt. You thought positive though because he tended to flirt back with you.

Your plan was to act like you were going to sleep early so you had acted like you were sleeping and stuffed your blankets with pillows right before they were putting people to sleep. Before they could check your room, you snuck to the kitchen and hid behind a bread slicer. They had checked the kitchen before rooms so no one was coming back to look in the kitchen. With Briarcliff being over populated and understaffed, security was not very good and did not care that much. You hear the sounds of many doors closing and being locked. You were in the clear. You then heard footsteps and realized it was just Kit.

"Hey, did you sneak out easy?" Kit asked. "Yeah, no complications, thankfully." You replied. "So, what should we do?" Kit asked. Not much you can do in an asylums kitchen. Everything was shut off, so you couldn't cook. There were no card games or any form of entertainment near. You started to get awkward and nervous so you went ahead and tried to flirt with him. "Do you ever wonder what it'd be like to have a nice fuck in here?" You asked Kit. ~Nice way of flirting, right?!~anyways..."What?" Kit laughed. "No, I haven't thought of that before, though it doesn't sound like a bad idea." Kit replied. "Wanna test that idea?..." You mumbled. "Sorry, did I hear that right?" Kit chuckled. "Yea, I said, 'do you want to test that fucking idea?'" You said in a low tone. Kit was taken aback by how aggressive you sounded. You could tell it excited him, as you watched his bulge appear. You smiled at him. He looked down to see his erection and covered it with both his hands and looked up at you with red flushed cheeks. "I- I'm so sor-" You cut Kits words off by placing your hand on his mouth. "Aw, don't apologize for being turned on.." You said. "I'll take that as a yes?" you asked. Kit nodded his head and uncovered his boner.

Kit picked you up and sat you down on a table. You started to kiss him as he put his hands around your waist and up the back of your shirt to unclasp your bra. You let him but then he tried to grab your boobs. "No, you don't get to feel that yet. Not until I let you." You snapped. "P-please, y/n." Kit groaned. "You will get what you want, when I allow it." You replied. "Now,  pull that cock out and let me make you feel good, my way." He pulled his pants and briefs off and his cock jumped from how excited he was. You pumped his hard cock as you sat on the table across from him. His moans sounded like pure pleasure to your ears. He kissed you on the neck as you gave him a handjob. You could feel that he was close but you wanted to tease him. You suddenly stopped and he gasped, needing more. "Why, did you stop? Please, I need you!" He ripped your shirt open and grabbed your boobs. You pushed him off of you. "And I thought you were gonna be a good boy for me." "My fucking mistake." You hissed. You got off the table and forced him to stand still and watch you. You then took off your skirt and panties. Jumped back onto the table and played with your self in front of him. "If you touch yourself, you get fucking nothing. You got that?" You said to Kit. He nodded and stood there as you played with yourself.

He was being good, so you went over to him and whispered in his ear, "Now fuck me." Kit then grabbed you by your waist and pushed you against the wall. He picked you up with his strong arms and fucked you against the cold brick wall. His cock hitting you perfectly. "Slower." you moaned. He obeyed and slowed down.  You then gripped his hair and said, "Good boy, now fuck me as hard as you want." Kit pounded into you, hard and fast. "UgH-" you moaned in complete pleasure and shock at how good he felt. You came on his cock. I'm gonna cum, y/n" Kit moaned. "NO, NOT YET." You yelled. You got off of him and got on your knees. "Do not cum until i say so." You then started sucking him off, tasting your juices and his pre-cum. You could tell he wasn't gonna last any longer. "Fuck, PLEASE." Kit moaned. "Cum for me, Kit." You demanded. Kit came all over your chest. "FUCK ughhhh" He moaned. He was breathing hard from how much he came. "You got what you wanted, like I said." You smiled. He took a deep breath, "Hell yeah, I did." You laughed at his response.

"Why did it take so long for us to fuck?" Kit asked. "Well, we're kinda being watched all the time." You responded. "Oh yeah, you're right. I wouldn't mind a couple of viewers though." Kit smiled at you. You laughed. "Oh fuck y/n." Kit said with a serious tone. "How are we gonna get in our cells?" ~Well fuck~

[phoebehalliwell]

on the subject of crackships.

in a prue lives, phoebeleo piperkyle pruecole paigeandy au (in which paige meets them in s1) how do u see it playing out and ALSO. do u see them all having kids still. this is so random i am so sorry (also i don't mean they have to be set from the get go and never get w anyone else but these would hypothetically be endgame)

i mean with phoebeleo like hard yes like in s2 when they're watching the baby at the end everyone's like phoebe ik you're gonna be a great mom you're gonna have like a million and one kids like mark my words and phoebe's real smitten about it like wow u really think you : ) i'd like to. guess i should probably find a guy first tho huh. but if that guy's already there bc it's leo and he's been here since season one i think they are easily first to have kids and first to get a full power of three the other three is definitely like another can of worms bc like.

okay so for paigeandy obvi we're starting andy's an old childhood friend of the halliwell's for the sake of cleanliness did not date any of them (if we're going messy tho dated prue hooked up once or twice with phoebe (not while dating prue, but neither of them ever mentioned it around prue bc well. yikes.) And piper had a major crush on andy for like. a decade. from ages 13 to 23) and he's a cop and does. stuff idk helps people and this lands him frequently in bed with social services which is. consistently. a pain in the ass. and he doesn't try to hold it against them bc they're clearly understaffed underpaid there's a lot to do but um jesus. and everyone in the precinct Hates having to go over there to do stuff bc you're just standing in the lobby drinking bad coffee for fifty minutes before you can even get a word in with the work and unlucky andy he drew the short straw ends up at social services and who should he meet there if not this gorgeous but really scatterbrained berkeley grad with a mouth like a sailor and a heart of gold and now um there's no need to draw straws at the station because andy straight up volunteers to go to social services just to see paige which she notices of course because like. were you jinxed or something? cursed? i've never known someone to draw the short straw so many times. and andy's like no i just um. like being hands on with my work i don't like leaving up to some dumb rookie with bad luck and paige is like oh don't worry i promise it is still being left to some dumb rookie with bad luck i mean i am right here blah blah blah banter conversation hint at a tragic backstory give it half a season and then it's official bf/gf shit and as far as charmed goes it's a prophecy about four sisters and the halliwells are like phew. dodged a bullet there lmao. until they do something only charmed ones could do and they're like Wait. Fuck. Is There A Fourth Sister Out There? so they find paige within the first hmm ten episodes or so.

so since we have both s1 phoebeleo and paigeandy i'd say they'd be on the fastest track but i feel like paige does have a lot more issues when it comes to getting married and having kids than phoebe does regardless i think by s4 they're married on track to have kids with pruecole we're doing the s3 introduction and the enemies to lovers arc we seal that with either a wedding at the very end of s4 or at the very beginning of s5 however kids is like. like they both want kids but prue has daddy issues and cole has mommy issues not to mention the charmed one/demon hybrid so they need to do some soul searching on that one. prue's probably pregnant by the end of s5 and has her baby halfway thru s6. paige may or may not have had kids at this point if they did they were kind of a whoopsies baby but she and andy r embracing it with open arms.

piperkyle imo is peak in a divorce/widower era it's been pitched like piperkyle au where he's not fucking insane piperkyle au where she's not brokenhearted piperkyle au where they're both normal happy people who then meet but like. nah. the appeal of them to me really is being the broken fucked up human being and feeling like you're kinda just gonna stay broken and fucked up bc you had your shot and you blew it so now you're here get used to it and then to have someone to meet someone who sees you so genuinely as you are that at first it's disgusting leave me alone i hate you but out of that just honest sight grows familiarity and comfort and before you even realized it happened love and jfc i'm in love with them???? but you realize that you're always happier when they're around you want to stay by their side and you don't even have to wonder if they feel the same because you just know they do because you Know each other and you don't have to wait for them to turn and run once they see who you really are because they know who you are they've known from the start saw the ugly the broken and vile and looked past that and saw the beauty and genuine love underneath like 🗣‼🗣‼🗣‼🗣‼. piperkyle consistently makes me insane. So. in order to hit this. we're bringing in dan. that's right, from season two to six (maybe just five but i'd like to have the pruecole arc wrapped up in a nice bow by the time we open up the next enemies to lovers) piper and dan give a relationship the old college try going from the honeymoon phase to the cringe failmarriage stage until it's eventually just time to call it quits like you literally can't move forward. so because of the delayed start piperkyle would def be the last to have kids but because this is a long slowburn full of character development and just like. vulnerable bonding moments i think that once they go official as a couple wedding and kids are not far off on the horizon i think if we close out a season (a hypothetical 9 or 10) with them getting together for the first time then we gotta burn some miles on the freak out denial stage because i always think that's funny that'll last half a season? maybe a third. and then by the end of the season we're looking at a wedding. by the end of the following season they def have a kid

superlatives!

most fashionable couple: pruecole

most likely to name their kids after dead relatives: piperkyle

most likely to break p tradition: paigeandy

most chill about dating a charmed one: phoebeleo (andy kyle & cole would all be way too willing to throw themselves into danger, leo trusts phoebe's foresight and knows when he needs to sit on the sidelines. it is a lesson all the other men still struggle with)

bonus round!

best bromance: 1st place: leoandy 2nd place: leocole 3rd place: colekyle

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 7

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I redid the whole thing. We’re going to back up a bit in this chapter and visit the past. Please check the warnings before reading. Also, my requests are open. Send ideas if you’re feeling particularly angsty! Or even fluff, I’d like to try my hand at it. As always, let me know what you think of this chapter! For tags, please send in ask! 

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Abuse, Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

2 years ago.

Bucky tapped his fingers on the table as he checked his watch again. 8:15. Forty-five minutes late. Again. He let out a huge sigh, barely able to hold himself from scratching his eyes out. The curly-haired waitress went back to him with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. My manager told me I really need to take your order now. There’s already a line waiting outside…” she let her sentence trail sheepishly. Bucky tried to ignore the heat creeping up his cheeks and gave her an unconvincing smile instead, reciting his order. When she left with visible relief on her face, he picked up his phone and called his wife again. He had tried to call and text her earlier but she hadn’t picked up.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sounding frazzled and irritated as she cleaned up after her rude customer. He just had the audacity to leave a mess after complaining and whining about the wifi three times. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling. 

“Hey, babe. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you at the restaurant,” Bucky’s defeated voice on the other line replied. 

“Oh shit!” She shrieked, attracting the heads of the other customers as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She had lost track of time. Bucky had been waiting for her for almost an hour. On their anniversary. Oh crap, crap, crap. 

“Oh my god, baby. I’m so sorry! I’m understaffed and I lost track of time! Could you please wait for me? I’m so sorry!” She quickly took off her apron and changed into the dress she had brought with her that morning for their date. Bucky had been planning this. He arranged for Lizzie’s babysitter and everything, practically bouncing off with excitement for this night. He wanted to try out this new restaurant and between raising Lizzie and making sure Winter Bakery was still making a profit, they haven’t seen much of each other lately. She just couldn’t find the time whereas Bucky’s stable position in Shield gave him more authority to delegate. And he literally had been trained for this for years. All those late-nighters at the university and all the grunt work he and Steve went through have finally paid up. They were at the top of their game, one of the youngest to acquire their positions. They were heroes in the investment banking world. Life was easy for him now, cherry on top of the cake. He only wished Y/N could be there with him. But she was still on shaky ground with her business and he fully understood that. 

“Of course! I already picked our appetizers though. They were trying their best to kick me out gently if I didn’t order anything,” 

“Oh, my poor Bucky. You should’ve flashed them your smile, charmed your way. They would’ve made you stay,” she replied, fixing her ponytail, not having the time to retouch her makeup anymore. This’ll just have to do. 

“Really, now. It was a waitress, you know.” He teased back. 

A beat before Y/N replied in mock seriousness. “In that case, don’t you dare. I’ll be there in 15!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. See you, babe. I love you--,” 

But before he could even finish his sentence, the line had dropped on the other end.  

_______________________________________________________________________

1 year ago.

“Daddy, look, apples!” Lizzie pointed from her seat in the grocery cart. Her legs swinging as she giggled at the heap of apples on their side. “Yeah, baby, you’re right.” Bucky replied absentmindedly, not even bothering to look as he stared confusedly at the bunch of green vegetables in front of him. The list Y/N gave him said scallions, but how the hell was he supposed to know which was which? Scallions, spring onions, green onions, they were all the same right? He suddenly regretted volunteering to do their grocery shopping alone, having no clue what half of the list Y/N prepared even meant. It was the weekend, they were all supposed to go together and then have a quick visit to the toy store after, for one more of Lizzie’s birthday gifts. She had just turned 3 a week ago and he couldn’t help but promise to let her pick out another doll. When Y/N had given him a pointed look while Lizzie clung on and gushed to him, he couldn’t help but to just give her a tiny shrug. He grew up with nothing, he was gonna give his little girl everything. But that morning when he thought the three of them finally had time to spend together, Y/N couldn’t make it again. She was having problems with her manager and had to go into work unexpectedly. Now, she wasn’t even answering his calls when he had to ask her about the most complicated grocery list he’s ever seen in his whole life. 

“Daddy, when are we getting my doll?” Lizzie asked again, looking up at him as she clutched her favorite white wolf stuffed toy. 

“After this, sweetheart.” He answered, preoccupied and calling Y/N again. This time when she didn’t answer, he gave up, grabbed the one nearest to him and hoped for the best. 

When he’s gotten halfway through the list and let Lizzie point at the snacks she wanted for school, he let his mind wander, when the hell had they become like this? He barely saw his wife anymore. Her problems with her bakery cafe, always dragging her away from them. He wished she could find competent people who would stay but if it weren’t her manager, it was her baker and so on. And if she was finally free, he’d be the one who was busy. It was hard and annoying but coupled that with taking care of an over-enthusiastic three-year-old, it was also exhausting.

He missed Y/N and he wished he could spend time with her. He completely understood that she was always needed at work. He had been through that in their early 20s, but they didn’t have a kid then to compete for their time and understanding it was different from actually living it. Their marriage had become stagnant. The banality of their everyday life, a stark contrast to how they used to be when they were just a couple of kids off college who rented a too-small apartment with his little sister, Becca. Time has flown and he’s finally achieved the life he’s always wanted; a big duplex apartment, a steady high-income job and a family he had always yearned for but never really knew he needed. All of the things he promised himself when he was younger and had nothing, he had now and more, yet there was still something missing. He missed the thrill of his life, chasing his dreams had always kept him motivated, distracted. Now that he had it all, he was at his wits’ end. Maybe it was because they were also growing apart, he could feel it. Y/N had always been able to make him happy and whole; he had always been able to rely on her emotionally. She was the better part of him and now that she was becoming distant, he hung onto her like a lifeline but his insistence on going on vacations as a family wherever his wife and daughter wanted went unheard, all his attempts at romancing cancelled. 

Even as he lined up now for the cashier, he whipped out his phone to text her. His hands had been busy typing when a brooding, dark-haired man stood behind him dressed in all black. His arms were muscled despite his age and the sagging skin on his right arm holding a tattoo of an odd skull with tentacles extending out of it was barely covered by his shirtsleeve. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky,” a familiar husky voice mocked from behind him. 

Bucky immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the voice sending a deep chill down his spine, making him go rigid as he slowly turned around, the blood draining from him when he went face to face with the man who had made his life a living hell, the man who not only broken him physically but in spirit as well. Repeatedly. 

“You some errand boy now? I didn’t raise you to be like that, you know,” He continued to mock, tipping his chin to the cart with Lizzie still on it. 

“Do you know him, daddy?” She asked, holding her little wolf tighter as she watched the stranger warily. 

“Hey there, sweetie. Your daddy didn’t tell you about me? That’s weird. I raised him and your aunt Rebecca a long time ago. My name is Rumlow,” he flashed her a chilling smile, stepping closer to offer his hand. That’s when the fog in Bucky’s brain cleared. He moved with a lightning fast reflex, stepping in between them as he got in Rumlow’s face, fisting his collar harshly in one hand, 

“Don’t you dare go near her,” his dark and low voice had threatened, dripping venom. His eyes had dilated, almost turning black as he shoved him hard. Rumlow’s grating laugh echoed around them, bringing back all those awful memories he had buried deep inside his head. 

“I’ve taught you well, boy. Can’t say I’m not proud,” He clapped and actually smiled at him smugly. At this point, Lizzie had started crying making Bucky even more furious. 

“I don’t ever want to see your face again. And if you go near my daughter again, I’ll make you fucking regret it. Do you understand?” His threats went on deaf ears as Rumlow broke out into a full-fledged grin. 

“I’d love to see you try, James. You’ve grown soft,” He accused, eyeing Lizzie and the grocery he had still lined up, several heads already looking at them. 

“Lucky for you. I have a new son here,” He continued, tilting his head to the boy standing by his mostly empty cart-- save for the beer and the liquor. Bucky flicked his attention to the boy and he felt his world spin as he saw himself in him with his eyes haunted, wary and afraid. He couldn’t have been older than eight. Rumlow smirked at the look on Bucky’s face, already detecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He had succeeded. He always knew Bucky was weak, his emotions his downfall. The fear and guilt clearly written in Bucky’s eyes made Rumlow gloat as he talked to the boy, 

“What did I say, Bert, huh? You’ll only have food if you go get it yourself. Why are you still standing there?” 

The boy looked around the big grocery store, mentally taking note of the stalls and where they were currently at, memorizing it in case he got lost but still, he didn’t move. Bucky looked at Rumlow and he saw the same look he’d always had directed at him before, his taunting eyes daring the boy to go or face the consequences. 

“But I’m scared,” the boy replied, his voice small and frightened. Rumlow moved to him, bending his knees to get to his eye level. “Well then, you just won’t have to eat,” he told him in a hushed voice, pouting and mocking. 

Bucky didn’t have to hear it to know the exact words, buried memories rushing back to the surface. He heard it countless times directed at him. The boy ran to the nearest stall, his heart pounding and hoping Rumlow would still be at that same spot when he came running back. Bucky knew the feeling, it was like he was living it all over again. As much as he wanted to help, he was rooted to the spot, even Lizzie’s crying couldn’t move him. Rumlow stood back up and faced him. “You were always my favorite,” he told him proudly as he pushed his own cart away from them, no doubt to give Bert an even harder chance of finding him. 

Just before he got too far, he swiftly turned around, feigning innocence as he said, “Oh and by the way, say hi to Rebecca for me,”  His lips twisted up into a sneering smirk as he left, whistling without a care in the world. And just like that Bucky was moving, grabbing Lizzie and getting out of that store as fast as he could, hoping Rumlow would stay out of his life forever. 

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

“I’m never letting you do the groceries again!” Y/N screeched, a horrified look on her face as she stared at their fridge. After the incident with Rumlow, Bucky had brought Lizzie to the toy store, allowing her to buy all the stuffed toys and dolls she wanted instead of just the previously promised one doll. They had gone to lunch after, he kept Lizzie distracted as much as possible to forget the man she had just met. When she brought him up again, he told her it was just a friend he didn’t like very much and that she shouldn’t bring it up to her mom because it was nothing, he promised he never had to see that man again. Lizzie seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her usual chirpy self. On their way home, they passed by another grocery store. He had mindlessly strolled the aisles and grabbed whatever he thought they needed, his head at a different place, much as it still is now.

“Bucky, we don’t need four cartons of milk, why would you even get this?” Y/N asked incredulously, shaking her head as she chuckled. 

Bucky had been staring off into space, not hearing what his wife had been saying. “Uhm, hello Bucky, you still with me?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Oh sorry, what was that?” He asked, glancing up at her from his perch by the kitchen counter. The coffee he had brewed, now cold in his hands. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes. 

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he waved dismissively. Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He’d been bugging her to spend more time together, planning outings and dates that she never seemed to find time for. 

“Well, I finally have the day free. Why don’t we go out, watch a movie or have a picnic? It’ll be fun,” she suggested, draping a hand over his shoulder while her chin rested on the other, her elbow propped up on the countertop to keep an eye level with him. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry, babe. I promised to meet up with Thor,” he moved away from her touch, standing up. Y/N looked at him confusedly, “Okay, how about after?”

“Gotta go over some accounts with Sam, sorry love. I’ll be back before dinner,” He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek before heading out. Y/N stared after him, brows knitted, before shrugging. She’ll just get her errands around the house done then. 

After pounding the punching bag in Thor’s gym incessantly, Bucky found himself aimlessly walking around the streets, he just needed to clear his head. The little boy’s face was still etched in his mind as he opened the door to a bar. A little too early, he knew but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought plaguing his mind. 

How could he have let that monster roam free while he had lived his life without even a glance back? 

_______________________________________________________________________

Years ago.

Bucky held Becca’s hand as they ascended the rickety steps of their new home. They had just lost their parents and were now moving into an unfamiliar house. The case worker had told them they were lucky not to be separated and that they shouldn’t worry; they were getting a good foster father who would take care of them from now on. 

“I had interviewed him myself, you see,” She told the children, beaming with pride. 

“I couldn’t have found a better one for you guys, why, this area is still very close to where you grew up in. You could still visit your old haunts,” She ruffled Becca’s hair, trying to lighten the mood while the little girl just moved farther away, hiding behind her big brother. The worn-out door which at once might have been painted pristine white but now had chippings hanging off of it suddenly opened with a creak, a man with a charming and easy nature stepped out with a warm smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“You guys are here! Welcome, welcome, please come in!” He gestured humbly to his house. Becca squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter which he squeezed back in return, reassuring her. There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. He seemed relaxed and easy-going, a smile continuously plastered on his face but there was a lethality to him that the children couldn’t seem to shake off, almost as if it was buried deep inside waiting to be unleashed. The case worker hung on his every word, giggling as they talked. She slapped his arm with the horrible looking tattoo that gave Becca a fright. The children barely moved from the sofa they were seated at after the introductions. 

“It’s usually like this. Don’t worry. They start to open up after a while,” the case worker sympathized with Brock, the man who introduced himself as their new foster father; he would treat them as his own, he had promised. 

“It’s alright. I understand. After my wife, I’ve been all alone and this, this is a blessing to me,” He told her as he turned to the children. Her hand strayed to his arm again and lingered there. 

“Oh, Brock, you are a good man. They’re great children, they won’t give you trouble.” She replied, patting his arm for reassurance. It didn’t miss Bucky how she hung off his every word. 

“But I should get going, I will check up on you in a week. Children, be good. You have my number if you need anything,” She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her blazer.

“Wait, you’re leaving us already?” Bucky couldn’t help the whine that escaped his voice. He didn’t miss the darkness that spilled over Brock’s face for a split second before he carefully put his smile back on again. 

“I’ll be back in a week, Bucky. Don’t you worry,” the case worker smiled before she walked out the door leaving him and Becca to a stranger. 

When she was out of sight, Brock had suddenly changed his demeanor. The smile on his face had turned into a scowl when he faced them. “Alright, listen up both of you,”  he boomed, his voice cruel. “Grab your things and get on to your rooms. I don’t want to hear any noise. No running around, and if I see you making a mess. You bet your little asses, you’ll pay for it,” He stood up and left them to their bags. 

“But Mr. Brock, I’m thirsty,” Becca piped up, looking up at him timidly. The man’s grating laugh rumbled as he threw his head back, shaking it.  

“That’s Rumlow to both of you, you hear me?  Don’t make that mistake again. Now, come here,” He said, beckoning both the children to come over. Once they reached the kitchen, he pointed to the high cupboard. “You see that?” He asked Becca, dropping low to get to her eye level. When she just nodded her head, he continued, “That’s where the glasses and the plates are. If you want something in this house, you go get it yourself. I’m not your nanny,” He held Becca’s face in his hand roughly. His fingers wrapped around her cheeks tight as he held her by the chin. Bucky felt his fists clench at his sides, pushing Rumlow as far as he could with his eleven year old might.  

“Stop that!” He screamed. Their parents never hurt them. How dare this man think he could do this to his little sister? 

“Oh you wanna be the man of the house?” Rumlow jeered, shoving Bucky back making him fall to the floor. Becca’s sniffles grew louder as she tried to stop her crying, her shoulders shaking from her effort. As Bucky lay sprawled, Rumlow scooted down menacingly to him, 

“You dare push me when you were just whining like a little bitch a while ago, you wanna man up? Alright, I’ll allow it,” he taunted, pondering it for a moment before his sinister smile came back on. “Let’s see how long you’ll last protecting your little sister.” He gripped his face by the chin, fingers squeezing exceedingly tight on his cheeks before he pushed him off and he hit the floor. 

“I won’t be some parent to you that you could twist around your little fingers, no. I’ll make you into the best man you could be. I will teach you about order. And order only comes through pain,” He drilled into him like a soldier as he stretched his legs back up, his measured steps going to the fridge to fish out a beer. He took a long gulp before he continued, 

“And the sooner you learned that, the better,” 

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

Bucky sat alone at one of the benches by the field at his school, choosing solitude over the roar of the cafeteria after a particularly bad morning at home. Their foster father had woken up drunk and had haphazardly thrown things at them when Bucky accidentally burnt the eggs he had been cooking for his and Becca’s packed lunch for school. He picked on the peanut butter sandwich he prepared, not having the appetite to eat when he heard jeering voices from a group of boys and sounds of flesh being hit again and again with accompanying grunts of pain. He felt his feet move on instinct when he found them by the bleachers, a scrawny boy at the center of a group huddling over him, they were laughing as he tried to fight them off, not once being able to land a punch. The blood pumped in Bucky’s veins, a constant beating in his ears, as he grabbed the biggest of the bullies by the collar and harshly yanked him off the tiny, blonde boy now sprawled on the floor with his skinny arms covering his face. When one of the other kids tried to punch him, he deftly moved out of the way and delivered a swift blow to his stomach, making sure to spare his face so as not to get in trouble. That was how Rumlow did it, might as well use the same trick right? 

“What? Who wants to go next?” He threatened, loving the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the power he had with defending someone so helpless. The lanky blonde boy stood up beside him, blood dripping from his mouth as he held both his fists up, “I can do this all day,” he said, catching his breath but his stance clearly indicated he could barely stand up straight. Bucky just looked at him weirdly, not knowing whether to find him stupid or brave. The bullies stood against them, unsure. Bucky was the same age as them, only slightly bigger. Him and the blonde boy were still clearly outnumbered but Bucky’s eyes held a lethal strength in them, his body coiled with unleashed brutality, ready to fight. The bullies scrambled out of there as fast as they could, their feet tripping over them. 

“Yeah next time, pick on someone your own size!” he hollered before looking back at the blonde boy who looked younger than them but held himself with such maturity that it didn’t seem possible. He decided right then and there he was going to make him his new friend. Rumlow had always taught him about his belief of the natural order of the world, that strength and might always won the day and that order could only be achieved through pain. If you could inflict it on others, you were stronger, better. Weaker men were useless, had to be beaten up and put in their place. “That’s just the way of the world,” he had said. But Bucky was old and smart enough to see right through his facade. He was a bully, feeding off of people who couldn’t fight back. Bucky was going to be different, he wouldn’t bow down to his will. He just needed to protect his sister, spare her from the taint of Rumlow’s anger and prove that he wouldn't become the man Rumlow has been conditioning him to be. 

“You alright?” Bucky asked the boy standing beside him who was touching the bruise forming on his forehead.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” he replied sheepishly, ashamed he couldn’t fight for himself.

“Next time, just don’t provoke them, they aren’t worth it.” 

“But they were wrong. Bullies, I’d always stand up to them,” the blonde brushed his hair back from his forehead, determination steeling his voice. Bucky smiled, maybe he could learn a thing or two from this boy too. 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Steve, what’s yours?”

“Bucky. Steve, you’re a little punk. You know that?” he said teasingly, laughing. 

Steve grinned back, “Jerk,” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Present

The light filtered into the room as the curtains were drawn back harshly causing Bucky to groan on his bed, flitting a pillow to cover his eyes. 

“Buck, come on. Get up,” Steve’s firm voice spoke through the fog in his mind. 

“Get out, Steve, I’m sleeping.” he replied, turning his back to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“How long are you going to do this? It’s been two weeks. Have you even talked to your family yet?” Steve’s judgmental voice rang out, hard and unforgiving. 

“She doesn’t even wanna see me,” he huffed, anger at himself boiling in his veins. He hasn’t seen his daughter in two weeks. Y/N’s short, cold replies to his messages were just updates on how Lizzie was doing, anything regarding Y/N, he had no idea about. He didn’t even know what sort of excuses she made up for Lizzie, how his “work trip” kept getting extended. When the hell could they keep that charade up? He was lucky enough she was letting him talk to his daughter on the phone for a few minutes every once in a while. He sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey at the bedside table. These days he could only fall asleep when he’s had one too many to drink and even then, he’d still wake up with a headache that could only be dulled by alcohol. He barely even made it to work everyday. Sam had been good enough to cover for him, staying on neutral ground with everything that’s happening to his marriage although his eyes said otherwise, disappointment etched in them. All the while Steve had ignored him the entire time since the hospital. No amount of apologies moved him from his stance except today, when he suddenly barged into the hotel room Bucky has been renting like he owned the place. 

“Jesus, Bucky, stop that!” He swiped the bottle Bucky held between his lips, splashing amber liquid on his shirt and bed. 

“Damn it, Steve! Look what you did!  Give that back,” Bucky held his arm out, his reflexes slow as he tried to grab it from his friend. 

“Jesus Christ. You smell terrible. How much have you had to drink last night?” Steve fanned the air around him trying to rid the stench of alcohol and sweat.

“How the hell did you even get in here?” Bucky’s pissed off voice grumbled but one look at Steve’s intense stare with his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, standing straight as a drill sergeant, arms crossed at his chest with his muscles bulging out of his fitted gray Under Armour shirt; he knew. The punk had intimidated his way in. No doubt leaving a poor breathless, flustered receptionist in his wake. 

“You could get that receptionist fired, you know?” He tried appealing to his best friend’s better nature.

“You wouldn’t tell. Plus, it isn’t as if she didn’t get a hefty tip. Go take a shower, Buck, you stink.” Steve didn’t budge, staring him down with a disgusted look on his face. Bucky just scoffed, 

“And then what? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N kicked me out, man. Just go home, you’re wasting your time.” 

Steve’s hardened face softened as he looked at his friend. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale as he scratched his wildly unkempt beard, his greasy hair sticking out on one side. What the hell had happened to Bucky? How had it gone so bad for his friend in a matter of days? He suddenly moved out of instinct, collecting clothes strewn everywhere and packed them into the suitcase at the corner of the room. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky exhaled loudly. It was too early for this. Where the hell was his drink? 

“Get your ass moving, Bucky. You’re staying at my place,”