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keigoslovebird · 4 years

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Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers!! Pregnancy and references to pregnancy, you have a child (obvi), aged up characters, breeding kink, negative self image (on Toshi’s part), references to alcohol, self deprecating language, very fluffy Daddy Toshi shenanigans

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word count: 8.3k

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing soft husband Toshi, if it isn’t obvious by the word count. I just want to rub his soft belly and tell him how much I love him. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Note: Flashbacks indicated by italics

Wakatoshi Ushijima has always been a man of few emotions and even fewer words, with just one thing on his mind—volleyball.

Since he was a young child, he has always slept, eaten, breathed volleyball. Nothing came close to his fiery, burning passion for the sport, not that he had the time to care about anything else.

That all changed when he retired from professional volleyball at the ripe young age of thirty-one, the years of wear and tear on his body finally catching up to him. He knew it was time when the pain in his joints was so severe he could no longer keep up with his much younger teammates. It was a difficult, emotional decision, but he ultimately viewed it as passing the torch to the next generation of volleyball players.

The announcement of Wakatoshi’s retirement was met with great sadness from the sports community at the loss of such a talented, renowned player, but he left behind an exceptional legacy marked by achievements and historic wins.

His final game with the Schweiden Adlers concluded in a symbolic victory, this chapter of his life drawing to a close the same way it began—with Wakatoshi as an indisputable champion. Every player, coach, and audience member rose from their seats, clapping and screaming words of encouragement. Each of his teammates got on their knees, lowering themselves to press their foreheads into the floor of the stadium, bowing in an ultimate show of respect. The sight of his peers, his coaches, the entire auditorium giving him such an impassioned send off made a heavy lump form in his throat that refused to go away, no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. Tears pricked at his eyes but he didn’t want to cry, not in front of all of these people.

The dam broke when you sprinted across the court, wrapping yourself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“You did so well Toshi. I am so proud of you,” you praised through choked sobs, pressing your tear-stained face into his neck. Your watery eyes and trembling smile shattered whatever willpower he had, his own tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. All those late night practices away from you, the excruciating injuries, the heartbreaking losses, all led up to this moment. This was the last time the Super Ace would step foot on a volleyball court as a professional player, but all good things must come to an end.

The screaming and clapping was so loud you could barely hear his quiet, trembling whisper of, “I love you.”

----

It took him awhile to adjust to what one would call a “normal” life, one that didn’t include daily flights from country to country or backbreaking practices that lasted from sunup to sundown. Sure he still went to the gym and practiced with the volleyball net strung up in your backyard, but it was nothing like his grueling schedule when he was a pro athlete. To make matters worse, the blinders he wore his entire life that blocked out anything but volleyball prevented him from finding any real hobbies of his own. This meant for the first few months, your husband followed you around the house like a lost puppy, just wanting to be a part of whatever you were doing.

You would be cooking dinner, some soup simmering on the stove, when Wakatoshi’s massive form would come up from behind you to shyly peek over your shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” he wondered, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips at how cute he was being, getting used to domestic life, something you never really got to experience until now. Before, you would often be sleeping when he came home at night, and still be asleep when he left in the morning. “I’m just cooking, do you want to help me?” you asked, holding a knife out to him to cut some vegetables. He nodded silently as he took the knife from you.

His chopping skills left much to be desired, but what could you really expect from a man who only ever held a volleyball?

Another time you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You could feel your husband staring so intensely you were afraid he’d pop a blood vessel in his head.

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you need something, Toshi?” You set your phone down and gave him a questioning look, hoping to solve whatever was troubling him.

He was pensive for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching as he figured out what he was trying to say. “No, I just… There’s nothing to do,” he answered finally.

You nearly burst out laughing at his concern for simply being bored, but you held it in. “Of course there’s something to do!” you exclaimed, “You can go on a walk, read a book, watch TV, or even just take a nap.”

His head tilted quizzically, unsure of what you were suggesting. “A… nap? Why would I sleep? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he questioned, sounding like you had proposed he eat sand and not to take a quick snooze.

You chuckled and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, plopping yourself down into his lap. “Sometimes people sleep in the middle of the day because they’re tired, or just because they want to,” you clarified, “We can go take a nap right now if you would like.”

Suddenly Wakatoshi stood up, causing you to squeak in surprise, his arms securely carrying you bridal style.

“W-what’re you doing!?” you squealed, panicked by your sudden lack of solid ground, slightly struggling in arms.

He tilted his head again, reminiscent of a pet confused by its master’s orders. “We’re going to take a nap together, yes? I’m taking you to our room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of your shared bedroom.

You stopped squirming once you took in his words, your belly fluttering with affection. Sighing happily, you snuggled your face against his chest, giving him a simple “mhm” in response.

That day Wakatoshi took his first nap since he was six years old and to this day, he still swears he’s never had a more restful, peaceful sleep in his life.

Those instances happened less and less often as he figured out ways to occupy his time that didn’t involve volleyball.

You adopted a dog, a commitment you didn’t want to make in the past due to both of your busy schedules, but your lives became a lot less hectic after Wakatoshi’s retirement. Your husband made it a daily ritual to take your puppy Leo out on a morning run, both of them returning tired and sweaty before promptly passing out for an hour. He took up a job at the local university to help coach their men’s volleyball team, deciding to try it out when the requests to lend his wisdom and skills kept coming in. Although, his favorite pastime now consists of him standing outside on the patio, beer in hand as he sweats over the flames of his fancy silver grill.

But perhaps the most significant change in your lives came in the form of your son, Hidetoshi.

Much like your refusal to commit to taking care of a dog, neither of you wanted to have kids while your lifestyle was so unfit to raise a child. You didn’t mind making those compromises for your husband, having known the path he would take since you started dating in high school. Frankly, you didn’t mind not having children at all, so it surprised you when he was the one to broach the subject.

“What if we did?” he inquired under the darkness of your bedroom.

You turned over to face him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. “What if we did what, my love?” you murmured.

His eyes flitted across your face with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “What if we decided to have a child?” The shock on your face made his stomach churn uncomfortably and he almost regretted saying anything at all, but his fears quickly vanished as your expression melted into a soft smile.

“We’d have to talk about it more but I’d love to have your children, Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

You had a deep, lengthy conversation about your wants, needs, plans for the future, and whether or not a kid would fit into them. Once all of your cards were on the table you decided to start trying to get pregnant, a mission that your husband took very seriously.

Even as a teenager Wakatoshi’s sex drive wasn’t very high, and his frequent absence and exhaustion in his adult life made it somewhat difficult for you to have sex often. You made up for it where you could, having phone sex and masturbating together over FaceTime, once you convinced him to do it. When he was bewildered as to why you would suggest such a salacious act, you explained you were a grown woman with needs and if he wasn’t there to take care of them, he’d have to help you in other ways. Once he realized how serious you were, he agreed.

But your husband as a young adult and your husband post-retirement are almost two completely different people in regards to sex. He has seemingly unlimited reserves of stamina, built up over years of rigorous, intense training, and he no longer had an outlet to expend them. So, his new outlet to test his endurance became you and your body.

He began fucking you every chance he got with the vigor and gusto of a hormonal teenager, seeking to make up for lost time. He asked for sex at all hours of the day, waking you up in the middle of the night with the insistent prodding of his arousal and lazily thrusting between your thighs in the early hours of the morning before you had to leave for work. He fucked you in every room in your house and on every surface—on the dining room table, in the shower, on the living room floor, and even on your back patio when you both got a little too drunk on some cheap rose.

You welcomed Wakatoshi’s insatiable hunger with open arms, unable to resist your strong, ridiculously handsome husband, but that, coupled with his seemingly limitless stamina, spelled trouble for your muscles and pelvis. In the first year after his departure from professional sports you had to call in sick to work seven times, too tired to function, too bruised to look presentable, and too sore to walk to the bathroom. At first he felt guilty for fucking you out of commission, but the way you begged him so sweetly to pound your needy, gushing cunt deeper, harder, faster and how you whimpered with delight when he bit bruises down your throat, he didn’t feel that bad. A baser, more primal part of Wakatoshi’s brain purred at his marks covering our body and relished in the way you limped. You were just too tempting, too irresistible not to ravage you every chance he got.

After you agreed to start trying for a baby, your partner’s already voracious sexual appetite became downright menacing now that he had a goal to strive for.

“Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so full with my cum and knock you up,” he grunted as he battered into your sore, dripping hole, your body folded in half in a mating press.

“P-please Toshi! Ah~ please,” you babbled, nonsensical and uncertain what you were even asking for. He had been fucking you for so long everything was muddled into a singular dreamy, intangible haze of pleasure and ecstasy.

Wakatoshi gave your clit a slap, hard enough to make you cry out. “Please what? Please breed you like a bitch in heat? Please stuff you full with my cum?” He leaned down to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing with enough force to make your head swim and forcing you to look into his wild olive eyes. “Well, what is it?” he demanded.

“W-want you to b-ah! Want you to breed mee,” you slurred, too drunk on the delicious feeling of his cock dragging against your pulsing walls to form a more coherent sentence.

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated with his impending orgasm. “G-gonna give you what you want, you cock hungry slut, I’m—” He came with a choked, shuddering groan, his warm cum flooding your awaiting womb.

You were both basking in the afterglow, exhausted and soaked in sweat and your combined fluids, when you noticed the furious blush spreading across your husband’s cheeks. “I apologize for what I said during sex. I… I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, giving your shoulder a remorseful squeeze.

Giggling, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I really enjoyed it,” you proclaimed, “I love it when you get rough with me.”

Trying to get you pregnant gave your husband a new goal to strive for and he has never been one to do anything with less than his all.

Thanks to your husband’s dedicated efforts, you got pregnant six months after you started trying, to your shared elation and delight. Those two little lines filled you with as much excitement as they made you anxious, but as long as Wakatoshi was by your side, everything would be okay.

Seeing your little bundle of joy in a 3D ultrasound changed you, changed Wakatoshi forever. Up until then you had only seen him as a colorless little blur on a computer screen, but getting to watch his precious face scrunch and his chubby legs kick reminded you that he was a real living being. The late night sprints to the bathroom, horrible morning sickness, and miserably aching back were all worth it when you were able to hold Hidetoshi for the first time. With his olive eyes, brown hair and chubby cheeks, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and to this day he still is.

Taking after his father from the start, Hidetoshi was a happy baby that rarely fussed or cried, not that you complained. He slept soundly through most nights, so soundly you slept in a chair by his crib for the first month to periodically check he was still breathing, despite your husband’s insistence the baby would be fine. Your mother-in-law had insisted that you and Wakatoshi would be exhausted for the first several months after the birth. Imagine her surprised when you and Wakatoshi looked just as well-rested as usual, better even, since you no longer had to deal with pregnancy. Many people, relatives and strangers alike, were astounded at how charming and polite your son was, even as a newborn. He was happy to just sit and play with his toys as you had lunch, smiling and waving at everyone who passed by.

A man as attractive as your husband with a boy as sweet as your son meant that, much to your irritation, women were tripping over themselves to flirt with him. To make matters worse, Wakatoshi picked up your son alone most days due to your office job preventing you from leaving early enough to go with him. This meant many of the moms at Hidetoshi’s school thought your husband was single and they weren’t shy in their pursuit.

A crowd of women surrounded Wakatoshi as he waited for school to end so your son would come running out with his arms spread wide, confident his daddy would always catch him. Most of the moms simply stared at your husband with dreamy looks in their eyes, attempting to make small talk with him.

One especially bold mother reached out and stroked his bicep, slightly squeezing to get a feel for his muscles. “My my Ushijima, you’re so handsome and strong,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

“My wife thinks so as well,” he grunted as he gently but firmly removed his arm from her grasp.

The woman looked as if he had slapped her across the face and cursed her family. “Y-you’re married? But you don’t even have a wedding ring!” she spluttered, “If you have a wife then where is she everyday?”

“I do have a ring. I just don’t wear it on my finger because I’m afraid of losing it,” he clarified, lightly tugging on the chain around his neck for emphasis, his ring clinking softly against the metal. “I’m happily married to my wife who cannot be here because she is hard at work providing for our family. Do not disrespect my wife or my marriage again or we will have a problem.”

After that the other moms kept their distance, choosing to admire Wakatoshi from afar. It did not, however, stop them from staring with envy on the rare occasion you came with him to pick up your child, glowering at you with an intensity that surely wished you would drop dead. Your husband paid them no mind and neither did you because at the end of the day, you’re the one he chose to marry and have a child with. They can all flirts and look as much as they want, but they’ll never have him like you do.

----

Fast forward to present day, Wakatoshi is seven years into his retirement at the age of thirty-eight and Hidetoshi is now six.

Your husband is an assistant coach part time for the men’s volleyball team at an up and coming university, the rest of his time divided between you and taking care of your son. Hidetoshi just started kindergarten, growing far too fast for your liking. He seems to have gotten a double dose of his father’s genes as he’s already several inches taller than his classmates, though you can tell by the way he smiles and the slope of his nose that he’s yours as well. He’s the perfect combination of both of you—he has Wakatoshi’s tenacity, work ethic, and confidence and your sense of humor, intelligence, and empathy. He continues to amaze you every single day and you nor your husband couldn’t imagine a boy more wonderful than him.

These days your lives are a lot less busy than they were when your husband was still a pro, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. With all the playdates, school functions, and parent-teacher conferences combined with your own job, Wakatoshi’s games, and regular house chores, sometimes it feels like you’re right back where you were ten years ago. This time, however, you have your incredible husband and son helping you and you wouldn’t trade your life for anything, no matter how hectic it may be.

Today is Saturday, it’s the weekend, and you’re only awake because of the bright sunlight that’s streaming through your bedroom window and hitting you directly in the face. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand, yawning loudly as you stretch your tired limbs. As soon as you try to get out of bed Wakatoshi’s arm around your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his solid, muscular chest.

“Don’t leave. Don’t need to be anywhere,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice even deeper and raspier with sleep. His legs entangle themselves with your own so you’re completely enveloped in the warm, comforting embrace of your husband.

“Need to start getting ready for the party,” you sigh drowsily, but make no efforts to remove yourself from his sleepy but surprisingly strong clutches.

“Not yet,” he says simply, and that’s when you realize when he’s doing. He’s slowly, lazily grinding his morning wood on the soft curve of your ass. You’re a little more awake now.

“Oh I see what this is about,” you chuckle, wiggling yourself against him teasingly.

He groans quietly under his breath, but you can feel the sound rumble in his chest. “Want you,” he says, still groggy from just barely waking up. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and he slips them underneath it, trailing his digits lightly down your stomach, making you shiver.

“Little man will be up soon,” you halfheartedly protest, but you can feel the warmth pooling between your legs.

“He’s not up yet, we have time.” The movements of his hips become more insistent, more demanding and you have to stifle your mewls behind your hand. Wakatoshi easily maneuvers his hand into the waistband of your panties, making a satisfied hum when he discovers you’re already dripping for him.

You’re still resisting, though it’s weak and feeble. The list of all the preparations you have to make for the barbecue still manage to just barely cut through your sleepy arousal. “We have so much to d—ahh~” You try to sound firm, but it just comes out as a breathy moan when he begins rubbing your swollen clit.

He uses his other hand to push up your shirt that’s actually his shirt, tracing small circles around your nipples with his rough fingertips. You try to push your hips into his hand in hopes to gain more friction, but his arms keep you locked in place.

“No need to rush. Let’s just enjoy this,” he insists, but the finger massaging your bud gets faster, knowing just how to make you whine after all the time he’s had to learn your body. He pinches one of your nipples between two fingers and squeezes with just enough force to make you gasp.

His erection has gotten even harder at the sound of your mewls and whimpers, hot and achingly hard against your ass and your cunt clenches in anticipation. Your slick is dripping out of you in thick, syrupy strings that makes your thighs sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Please Toshi, need you,” you beg, desperate for your husband to stuff you full just as he’s done so many times before.

Wakatoshi doesn’t respond, opting to push his pants and underwear down to his knees and you almost sigh in relief, just needing to satisfy the desire that’s threatening to burn you from the inside out. You’re so hot you feel like you’re burning and you throw the comforter off of you to try to escape the heat. He removes the hand that was in your panties, instead using it to rub his hard length along your slick folds. You’re keening and so so needy, gasping each time the head catches on the tight ring of muscle around your entrance.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grits out, barely able to control himself.

Your breath is coming in short, uneven pants as you try to sink yourself down onto him. “I love you so much I...”

That’s the moment when he sheaths his entire cock inside you in a singular fluid movement. You let out a strangled moan, relishing in the familiar burning as you stretch to accommodate how thick he is. Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, molding perfectly around his length.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to take me,” Wakatoshi growls, sending another wave of arousal rippling through your body. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply because he doesn’t want to cum and have this end so soon.

He starts moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep to reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you scream. The hand on your breast reaches around to grab your throat, stifling your moans into small, stuttering gasps. You whine each time he shoves himself deep inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your spongy walls.

You stay like that for a while, bodies joined in the most intimate of ways as Wakatoshi moves his hips in leisurely, unhurried strokes. Your body is hot, sweaty, thrumming with the pleasure that’s so overwhelming all you can focus on is the intoxicating feeling of your husband’s cock deep inside you. The tightening in your core signals your impending orgasm, but each time you get close to the edge, it escapes your grasp over and over again. You need him to pound into you faster, harder. You need more.

“Toshi please, I-I need,” you manage to stammer out, but your words are stolen from your throat as he sharply thrusts as deep as he can, the tip of his cock smashing against your cervix with just the right amount of pressure.

“Don’t worry. I know just what you need.”

Wakatoshi is fucking you with so much force that your eyes are rolling back in your head, and all you can hear is the wet slapping sound each time he’s sucked back into your wet heat. He’s close, you can tell by the breathy groans he’s making, but so are you. You clench and spasm around him, growing impossibly tighter and bringing both of you closer to climax. His merciless pounding of your insides just gets faster and rougher, and his other hand moves down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles.

The pleasure that clouds your senses is overwhelming, just dancing on the edge between pleasure and pain and your body can’t take it anymore. Your vision goes white as you cum, cunt clamping down so hard Wakatoshi can barely move. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, your body shaking and trembling as you gush around him. The endless clenching of your muscles practically milks his orgasm out of him, a stifled groan leaving his lips as his thick, hot cum coats your insides. All you can do is moan softly in appreciation, too incoherent to say anything else.

Your husband presses a kiss to your sweaty neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking in the sight of your limp, spent body.

You haven’t caught your breath yet and your lips won’t form proper words, so you make the only noise you can, “Mmfmm.”

You whine as he slowly pulls out his softening length with an audible pop, sensitive cunt spasming at the slightest stimulation. He untangles himself from you and you want to reach out for him, but you’re too boneless to even attempt to do anything yet.

As Wakatoshi gets out of bed to get a warm washcloth, you hear the familiar sound of little footsteps making their way towards your room and you shoot up in bed, fully alert. You quickly pull the covers over your body, just in time for Hidetoshi to come bounding in.

“G’morning Mama! Where’s Daddy?” he wonders, his little head poking around the corner.

Your husband comes out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and washcloth in hand. “I’m right here, Hidetoshi.” The boy runs straight towards his father who picks him up effortlessly, swinging him around in the air as he squeals with delight. “Did you sleep well?”

Hide bobs his head enthusiastically, “Mhm! I had a dream I was a professional volleyball player just like you.”

Your loud, exaggerated sigh draws both sets of olive eyes to you, but you train your gaze on your husband. “Have you been putting ideas in his head?”

Wakatoshi shakes his head no, but the child in his arms pipes up first, “Daddy has been showing me videos of his old matches from when he was with the Schwimmy Addles.” Your husband makes a noise of surprise, a guilty look on his face now that he’s been found out.

“You two are going to be my undoing, I swear,” you chuckle as you flop back into the fluffy pillows.

Hide squirms in his father’s arms, reaching out to you, but the man recognizes the warning look in your eyes and tightens his arms around him. “We should let Mama finish waking up first. Why don’t we go downstairs and make breakfast?” he asks, tickling his sides.

The boy shrieks with laughter and wriggles even harder in Wakatoshi’s arms. “F-fine Daddy! Stooop it!” Your husband stops his tickling and hoists your son over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

He passes the washcloth to Hide. “Why don’t you give this to your mama? Then we can go have something to eat.”

Hide uses his little arms to hold the cloth out to you and you take it from him, nodding with gratitude. “Thank you sweetie, now go with your daddy.”

Your husband starts walking towards the door as a small, chubby hand waves bye to you and you blow kisses to them as they disappear into the hallway.

Using the washcloth, you clean the mess between your legs and muster the monumental effort it takes to get out of bed. You begrudgingly walk over to your dresser to put on clean pajamas and brush your hair so you’re presentable for a meal with your family. The sound of the fire alarm going off has you racing downstairs to the kitchen where Wakatoshi and your son should be.

As you slide into the kitchen and almost fall on the slippery hardwood in your haste, you realize your panic was for nothing. There’s a pan on the stove, grey smoke billowing out of it. Upon further inspection you discern that it’s eggs, you think, that are simultaneously under and overcooked. The guilty parties are sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away, a jug of milk and a couple of boxes of cereal surrounding them. Hide is shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth as your husband eats his own breakfast, only slightly neater in his approach.

“So… you tried to cook?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at the large man chewing his Wheat Chex. He looks over at you and nods, mouth full with milk and cereal. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well, judging by all the smoke,” you say slowly. Your husband simply shakes his head no, unbothered by the fact that he nearly gave you a heart attack.

Deciding it’s not worth the argument or the work to make a proper breakfast, you sit down next to Hide and pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios. He smiles at you, mouth open and full of disgusting half-chewed food, but you still return his beaming grin and ruffle his hair. The both of them are troublemakers in their own ways, but they’re your troublemakers nonetheless.

After you’ve all eaten breakfast, you lay a notepad in front of them that has a list of all the things you have to do before your guests arrive for the barbecue.

You’re standing between them, pointing at each task on the list. “I still have to sweep and vacuum the house, Toshi you need to go to the store and buy all the food, and Hide you need to pick up all your toys that are in the backyard. We have a lot to do today and everyone has to do their part, okay?” you urge, looking between the males on either side of you and they both nod emphatically.

With everyone so busy, it’s difficult to find weekends where they’re all available so this get together has been planned for months. You’ll all be seeing friends and loved ones you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s a team effort to make sure everything is ready for tonight.

----

You finish all of the tasks on time, with an hour to spare thanks to your joint efforts.

Hide is playing in his room while you and your husband get dressed and ready for what will likely be a long night of socializing and entertaining.

As you’re doing your makeup and getting ready for the party, you notice Wakatoshi staring at himself in the mirror, shirtless. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on his face as he scrutinizes his reflection. He pinches his belly with both hands, scowling at the softness that used to be hard muscle. Tracing a finger along the stretch marks on his stomach and arms, he sighs heavily.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask from the bathroom.

Your husband walks over to lean against the wall behind you, his unreadable expression reflected in the bathroom mirror. He hesitates before answering, “I’ve let myself go.”

You set your mascara down on the counter and spin around to face him. “Wakatoshi, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I just said what. I heard a couple of my players say that I’m not as strong or as fast as I was when I was a professional.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing gently. “Of course you’re not what you used to be, Toshi.” At the sight of his deepening frown you quickly add, “You’re so busy being a father, husband, and coach you don’t have the time to work out like you used to.” Getting on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose, “And that’s okay.” It’s a rare occasion that he looks this vulnerable. His anxiety and self-consciousness are so clearly written in his features and it makes your heart ache for him.

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t look like that anymore?” he asks, pointing at the framed photo of his first win with the Japan National Team that hangs on the wall.

“Why would it bother me? This is the body races my son across our backyard, helps me fix our home we bought together, and makes love to me every night. I love you just as much as I did back then, and even more now that we have Hide,” you reassure him and you mean every word of it. Sure he’s not the most romantic of husbands, but he’s your husband and you love him just the way he is, with or without muscles.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he squeezes you even tighter to him. “I know I probably don’t say this as much as I should, but I love you.”

You pepper kisses all over his eyelids, lips and nose. “And I love you more than anything, Wakatoshi. More than you will ever know.”

Your hands lovingly caress his chest that’s softer now, but still sturdy and muscular, and his arms that are not as lean anymore, but are still just as powerful and capable. “For the record, I love how soft you are these days. It’s great cushioning for when we cuddle.”

“Hidetoshi says the same thing,” he recalls, smiling at the thought of your beloved son.

After giving him a knowing look, you go back to putting on your makeup. “See? I told you. That boy is just as smart as his mother.”

It’s nearing five o’clock so Wakatoshi goes to the backyard to start grilling the food for everyone, while you and Hide finish plating the fruits and vegetables you prepared earlier.

You work in comfortable silence until your son turns to you, his eyes shining with unanswered questions. “Hey Mama?”

Putting down the strawberry you were holding, you sit down on the stool next to him and hold his hands in yours. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

“Do you not want me to be a volleyball player like Daddy? Is that why you got mad when I told you he showed me the videos?”

You almost break your neck with how fast you shake your head in denial. “Of course not! I wasn’t mad, it’s just…” you start, trying to find a way to phrase your thoughts that he’ll understand. “Daddy’s job was very hard. His body still hurts a lot from all the times he got injured when he played volleyball. And… his job took him away from me and I missed him a whole lot.”

The look on his face is so reminiscent of his father, it’s like young Wakatoshi was frozen in time and plopped into the chair right next to you. With the way his eyebrows are scrunched up and his mouth is downturned as he thinks, he really is the spitting image of your husband. “Did it make you sad?”

Taking a deep breath, you hold your arms out to him so he can climb into your lap. “Sometimes it did. Mostly at night when I was all alone and Daddy was really far away.”

He rests his head against your shoulder, looking up at you. “Do you wish Daddy had a different job?”

You look out the window at your husband who’s starting up the grill, then look back at the sweet, round face of your boy. “No, I don’t. Daddy’s job was really important to him and it made him so happy that I grew to love it too, even if it made me sad sometimes.”

He sits up in your lap, thinking hard about what you said as he plays with your necklace. “Does Daddy still wish he could do it?”

“Probably, but it’s okay. If he hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have you, and you make our lives so much brighter and happier. Your Daddy and I love you so much, you couldn’t even imagine it.”

He spreads his arms out as far as he can. “This much?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Even more.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Hide’s eyes are wide with surprise, mouth slightly agape as he tries to imagine something so large and vast.

Laughing, you press a kiss to his head. “It sure is a lot, baby. Now why don’t we finish putting out all the food so we can go see what Daddy’s doing?”

Your son leaps out of your lap to grab handfuls of grapes and blueberries from the cartons on the counter, dropping them into the divided sections of the serving platter. “Aren’t you going to help me, Mama?”

You give him a look of mock offense before standing ramrod straight, giving him a mock salute. “As you command, Commander Ushijima.”

You carry both trays of food out to the backyard, not trusting Hide’s ability to hold them upright, while he carries a volleyball in his arms. Wakatoshi turns at the sound of footsteps, a small smile on his face as your son drops the volleyball, barreling straight into his legs with a force that makes the man grunt.

Hide looks up at his father, both arms wrapped around his legs. “Whatcha doing Daddy?” he asks.

Your husband reaches a hand down to ruffle his hair, a slight look of pain in his eyes from the boy slamming into his shins. “I’m just getting ready to start cooking the food for tonight. Do you want to help me?” He bends down to pick him up and Hide quickly hops into his arms, well practiced and effortless with how strong your husband is. The man points to different parts of the grill, explaining what they do, taking care to keep the boy far away from the flames.

Setting the plates down on the table, you inform Wakatoshi, “Hajime and Tooru should be here soon, so should Tobio and Eita. Satori called and said he might be late, something about his luggage getting lost.” At that moment the doorbell rings, signaling your first guests are here. “I’ll get it. You two stay here and get the food on the grill.”

You open the front door, greeted with the familiar faces of Hajime and Tooru. “It’s so nice to see you two! Come on inside, don’t be shy,” stepping aside, you hold your arm out to welcome them into your home.

“Mrs. Ushijima you get more and more beautiful each time I see you,” Tooru teases as you snicker in response.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you at all, has it?” you question, more so directed at Hajime.

“I tell him people are going to get the wrong idea,” the shorter man replies, sounding exasperated.

You usher them towards the backyard before picking up various soda and beer cans. “Wakatoshi and Hide are both in the back. You two go ahead and keep them company while I bring these out.”

It takes a few trips before you join them in the backyard, handing each adult a can and a juice pouch to Hide, who’s sitting at the picnic table with Tooru while Hajime chats with your husband.

“How old are you now, little man?” the brunette asks.

Hide holds up five fingers plus his thumb as he swings his legs back and forth. “I’m six! I just started kindergarten.”

They both wave at you as you join them, sitting on the other side of the table. Tooru leans in towards you, a hand cupped around his mouth, and you tilt your ear towards him. “He’s so… polite and well-mannered. Are you sure Ushiwaka is the father?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

You lightly smack his head, glaring daggers in his direction. “Yes, obviously. Look at them, they’re basically twins.” Tooru looks at the boy sitting next to him then at your husband standing at the grill, then back to your son, then back to your husband. Hand on his chin, he takes in their matching olive eyes and hair and similar expressions, nodding seriously.

“I was just making sure.”

The doorbell rings a couple more times, Tobio and Eita arriving one right after the other. With almost all of your guests present, everyone is drinking and catching up, some casually passing a volleyball back and forth with Hide.

You’re in the middle of telling Tobio that Hidetoshi is too young to be thinking about his future career when the doorbell rings once more, indicating the last of your guests has arrived. You rush inside to get it, not bothering to check who’s there because you already know who it is. Swinging the door open, you pull the man into a tight hug.

“Satori! We’re so glad you made it,” you exclaim, giving his back a few hard slaps.

The redhead pulls away from you, smiling. “I’m so glad I was able to make it in time. The airport lost my luggage, then my parents forgot to leave me a key to their house so I had to wait until a neighbor could let me in. To make matters worse, I got stopped by security when I landed because of this,” he says, holding up a white box with a bow around it.

You quickly grab the box, shaking it to try to hear what’s inside and sniffing it for good measure. “Ooh la la, did you bring us some fancy French chocolates?” you ask. “Actually, don’t tell me, Hide will want to open it.” You hand the box back to him and gesture him to follow you, “Everyone’s in the back so just follow me.”

With Satori in tow, you step onto the back porch and call your son’s name. He hands the ball to Eita before running over, eyes lighting up when he sees the man standing next to you.

“Uncle Tori!” he shouts, launching himself into Satori’s arms.

“Hey there Little Toshi, how you been? Keeping your dad out of trouble?” he asks, hugging the boy tightly.

“I think so! Well… we burnt some eggs this morning and the smoke machines started beeping, but that doesn’t count, right?”

The red-haired man waves his hand dismissively. “Of course it doesn’t. Any crimes committed in the name of breakfast are excused,” he insists. Pulling the box out from behind his back, he offers it to Hide. “I brought you something all the way from France, do you know where France is?”

Hide takes the present from him, “Yeah, it’s in Europe! Daddy showed it to me on a map.” He struggles a bit with the bow before he decides to just rip it off, lifting up the lid.

Satori points to the various chocolates laid on top of wax paper. “This one is filled with something called ‘ganache,’ which is basically just more chocolate, but it’s liquidy. That one over there has caramel, and the one right next to it is a bonbon filled with strawberry jelly. I picked all the best ones just for you.”

The boy smiles, eyes wandering over the chocolates like they’re bars of gold. “Thank you Uncle Tori! I bet they’re really yummy.”

He pats Hide on the head. “I hope you enjoy them lots. Now I gotta go say hi to your daddy, where is he?” Your son points to where Wakatoshi is standing at the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other as he chats with Tobio. “Thanks Little Toshi,” he says, ruffling his hair.

Satori walks over to your husband, pulling him into a crushing bear hug before he can say anything. “Wakatoshi, it’s been too long! I sure get lonely all the way in France, have you guys ever thought about moving?”

Wakatoshi freezes for a moment before giving in, hugging the man back, though slightly stiff in his movements. “We will not be moving to France. Hidetoshi will be raised here in Japan.”

The redhead releases him, sensing his discomfort. “Well, it was worth a shot. How’s your retirement? You miss being a pro?”

“I do miss it sometimes, but it was necessary to let a better, younger player take my place. I wouldn’t trade a few more years on the court for the life I have now with my wife and my son.”

Satori lets out a loud whistle. “I never thought I would hear the day that Wakatoshi Ushijima would say he cares about anything more than volleyball.”

“Volleyball was my entire life before, but they’re my entire world.”

The shorter man just smiles, silent for a moment before pointing to the apron your husband is wearing. “I didn’t think you’d actually wear that thing, Wakatoshi!” The apron black with bright red lettering that says ‘Wakatoshi: Grill Master,’ with a drawing of a flaming steak next to it.

“It keeps my clothes clean. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” he asks, genuinely curious. The redhead just laughs and shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder.

Your husband finishes grilling the food, much to the excitement and relief of the many hungry men who have been circling him like a hawk. Everyone takes from the piles of meat and vegetables, noticeably happier now that their stomachs are full. You’re all sitting around the picnic table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Hajime recalls a story from when he first signed on as the athletic trainer for the national team. Wakatoshi had approached him after practice, saying he had a serious issue that he wanted someone to take a look at. Concerned for his player’s wellbeing, naturally he took him into the locker room and Wakatoshi took off his shirt. At first, he thought he might’ve stretched one of his ligaments too far or had even torn his rotator cuff muscle. Imagine his surprise when Wakatoshi pointed to an ingrown hair on his back, saying it was inflamed and causing him pain. It was then that Hajime had to explain that he’s not that type of medical professional, and that he should make an appointment with a dermatologist.

The sun starts to set, but with the fun everyone is having they barely notice. The night begins to wind down once Hide yawns, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and it sets off a chain reaction of yawning that reaches every person at the table. Your son starts tugging on your sleeve, informing you he’d like to go to bed. Not wanting to leave him alone in the house and taking note of the exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you politely suggest to end the night early. A chorus of heads bob, indicating their desire to head home and sleep.

All three of you hug and kiss everyone goodbye, waving to them as they drive away. You sigh from exhaustion and head inside to put Hide in bed. You and your husband hold each of his hands and take him to his room, pulling back his covers so he can climb in.

He yawns again and closes his eyes, settling into his bed. “Night night Mama, Daddy. I love you.”

You stroke his cheek lovingly before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight sweetie, I love you too.”

Your husband comes up from behind you to kiss Hide as well. “Sleep well, Hidetoshi. I love you.”

With your son asleep in his own bed, all you have to do is take off your makeup and brush your teeth before you too can sleep.

You’re in the middle of washing your face when Wakatoshi comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I enjoyed tonight, I hope you did too,” he says.

You turn around to look at him and smile. “I did, it was amazing to see everyone in one place. It’s been years since we were all able to see each other.” After you finish washing your face, you stretch and yawn loudly, telling your husband, “I’m getting in bed now, join me when you’re done.”

Climbing under the sheets, you nestle yourself into the softness of your bed. You nearly doze off right then, but the shifting of the bed under Wakatoshi’s weight keeps you awake just a bit longer.

He slides in behind you so he can spoon you, an arm slung over your waist.

“Goodnight Toshi, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you too.”

Before he falls asleep, Wakatoshi thinks of all the things in his life that led him here, to you, his wonderful wife, and his precious son.

Leaving professional volleyball was one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make in his thirty-seven years of living, but the end of that chapter of his life gave him Hidetoshi.

He knows that every moment of uncertainty, suffering, and hardship was worth it because it ultimately led him to you and your son, to this life you’ve built together.

He’d do it all over again a thousand times over if it meant that your beautiful, shining face would be there to greet him in the end.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #hq smut #hq fanfic #reader insert #hq reader insert #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #bunny scribbles

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

\\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now.

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too.

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy.

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English.

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke.

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that.

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her.

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest.

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over.

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language.

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing.

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly.

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors.

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest.

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay.

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together.

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions.

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately.

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes.

“I hate you, you know that right?”

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it.

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.”

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction.

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat.

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees.

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips.

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous.

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #fluff #Tom Holland angst

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teenage-mutant-ninja-freak · 3 years

Text

Show me yours and I’ll show you mine

Mob! Leo x fem reader

Summery: You’re a sex worker working at the infamous Red Room (R&R) brothel in New York city when you run into Leo who’s there not on business. He, somehow, takes a liking to you and your adventure ensues.

Warnings: NSFW, sex work mentions, fist fight/violence, alcohol mentions, violence mentions.

((A/N: This doesn’t have much of a plot, just a fun idea I had and I haven’t written a mob fic in so long so here ya’ go!!))

It wasn’t a slow day at Red Room, Clients had been in and out all day and it was nearing 7pm. The smell of perfume and cologne hung heavy in the air and the place was starting to get messy. During the day the brothel is mainly used for men to drink and be kept company but when the night hits, it comes alive.

Women roaming around in lingerie of every kind, singers and dancers to entertain those who are just here to escape their wives or boys trying to become men chasing down pretty women who only show interest after they flash their cash. Security is pretty tight, too. Can’t have minors getting in, as much as they try, or anyone throwing off the atmosphere with drunken brawling.

It’s a beautiful September night, the air is still warm the remnants of summer and sun beans are streaming in through the ornate glass windows. Classic, beautiful furniture covers the main room where men get to know their chosen girl before she takes them back to her room and the bar is crowded with the usuals who are just here to watch and have a good time.

You walk through the vast room, smiling and making chit chat with as many of the men as you can before picking up your drink and retiring to one of the chairs. For a busy day it was still slow for you. You adjust your thigh highs as you sit and take off your heels. A small rest wouldn’t kill you. There were all sorts in tonight including, or so you’d heard, one of the mob boys. You hadn’t laid eyes on him yet but there was a certain tension surrounding the place that only the turtle boys could create so even if you hadn’t seen him, you could feel him. They weren’t strangers to R&R, sometimes they’d bring business associates here to butter them up, buy them a girl for the night and talk business where she kissed their neck or they’d come for their own pleasure.

You take another look around the room, most of the men were focused on Starla who was singing a blues version of “how to be a heart breaker”, her voice slightly deeper than usual and full of sensual promise and her bright red, lacy bra and panties are particularly stunning. Praying that no one will approach you for at least another 10 minutes you take a sip of your whiskey and sit back to enjoy the show- when you hear it.

From a more distant corner of the room there are raised voices and harsh words being thrown about, something that is not accepted in the Red Room. Putting down your drink, you pick up your heels in your other hand and go over to see what all the fuss is about.

“I want what I fucking paid for!” comes a voice from a heavily intoxicated man who is standing on the last step to the stairs. Cherry stand in front of him, clearly distressed and looking slightly dishevelled. You can only assume that something went wrong in the bedroom and she had to run. Bastard you thought to yourself.

“Not if you won’t wear a condom! There are fucking rules!” she bites back. She was right, R&R had very strict guidelines to keep their girls and patrons safe and condoms must be worn for any and all sexual activity as well as regular STD checks.

That’s when he finally loses his cool completely, grabbing Cherry by the hair and trying to pull her back up the stairs. You don’t know exactly what came over you but before you know what you’re doing you drop your heels and rush over, prising his hand from her hair and socking him in the jaw. His head flies back from the impact and hits the wall, ricocheting off it before he falls down cold on the stairs which is met by a round of applause from the crowd that has gathered around you both. You turn to a now crying Cherry.

“you ok? What did he do? You alright?” you ask in quick succession.

“I-I’m-” she sobs and holds on to you, you wrap your arms around her bare waist and move her slightly to the side as the ever late security deals with the unconscious guy. You decide it’s better to get her away and instead take her outside where some of the other girls have crowded round and offer her drinks and cigarettes as well as their sympathies. They stroke her hair and comfort her so you venture back inside, leaving her in their very capable hands.

Once back in the main room, the madame for the night walks briskly over to you with a hard expression on her face.

“And just what was that?” She half whispers

“I know right, that jerk was trying to make her go bare back even though we’re super specific that we don’t do that here” you reply

“Not that!” She snaps “That little brawl you had with him. What do you think you were doing?”

“...Defending my colleague?” you’re confused, this isn’t the first time one of the girls here has had to step up for another, it probably won’t be the last either.

“We have to crack down on you- you girls getting into fights! It’s dangerous and irresponsible and I think you should go home for the rest of-”

You both stop when you sense a presence to your right. Looking over you come face to face with a towering figure: Leonardo.

The madame clears her throat and smiles

“Ah, Mr Leonardo! How- how may we help you?” she beams at him. You’re not sure if it’s out of respect or fear, probably a mixture of both.

“How much for this one?” He says point blank.

“Excuse me?” The madame’s jaw almost hits the floor

“How much for this one for a few hours?”

You smile and give him big doe eyes as he talks price with her and she still attempts to send you home. Eventually it’s settled and allows you to take him back to your room.

He’s silent on the walk up there even as you chat idly about how handsome he is as you usually do with clients and making sure to sway your hips extra heavily to give him a good view as you walk up ahead of him.

Once tucked inside your room, you kneel on the bed and face him.

“So, how do you want me, big guy?” you say in a low, seductive voice.

He sits in a chair by the door in the corner and lights up a cigarette which isn’t technically allowed but acceptations are always made to accommodate the mob boys so you let it slide.

“You can cut that shit out now” he says bluntly.

“what shit?” you’re confused again

“The ‘big guy’ and ‘you’re so handsome’ practically drooling over me shit. It’s overdone and, honestly, you’re not very convincing.”

“I’ll have you know that my acting skills are top notch but if you want realness lets go. How do you wanna fuck me and how long do I have to put up with you for?”

He smiles at that

“Atta’ girl”

You both sit in silence for a few minutes as he looks over you, drinking in your form. His eyes always linger on your hips and the garter belt around your waist so you can safely assume these are your best features in his opinion.

“What possessed you to take on that drunk guy?” he breaks the silence

“My friend was in trouble, besides, I’ve got a solid right hook and wanted an excuse to use it” you reply. He smiles again. Not to be cocky, but I think I’m winning him over you think to yourself.

He’s rented out your room for two hours and all he seems to want to do is talk. He doesn’t even get up from his chair apart from once and only then it was to look out the window as he asked you about how you ended up here. You assumed it was some kind of saviour complex, the whole “how did a nice girl like you end up in a dump like this” routine but the truth is you like the Red Room. You love the attention and praise it gets you, your family knows what you do for a living and are proud of you and you’ve made some good friends here.

“...Besides” you continue “it’s the only place around here where it’s not impossible to make 5 grand in a night if you try hard enough. Most other places can’t say the same.”

He was decent conversation although he was reluctant to tell you anything about himself, but he listened and appeared genuinely interested in what you had to say. You even made him laugh a few times. You didn’t know the turtle boys even had a sense of humour.

Your 2 hours with him were coming to an end and, after pouring him a final drink, you said your goodbyes, It wasn’t completely unusual for a client to simply want to talk for their time with you, but from what you’d heard the turtle boys have an insatiable appetite for women so it doesn’t quite sit right with you that he didn’t want your body. Oh well.

_________________

The next morning was your day off. You woke up before your alarm and took a few minutes to hug your pillow closer to you and breathe in the fresh morning air from the window by your head. Your apartment was modest but not dingy in the slightest, the Red Room paid well and your home reflected that to some extent although you never wanted to be flashy about it. Last night was still on your mind, the way Leo (as he had asked you to call him) looked at you was still burned into your memory. His scent and the way he raised each drink to his lips. Everything he did commanded authority and was done with such grace and composure. Your thoughts were rudely interrupted by your alarm, only, it wasn’t your alarm.

Confused, you look at your phone and see the madame is calling. What does this old bitch want? you think before answering the call.

“Hello?” you talk into the phone, trying to hide your distaste at being bothered on one of your precious days off.

“Hi, y/n, I really hate to do this but I need to get straight to the point. You have an outcall today.” the voice replies

“Oh, I’m sorry, you must be mistaken, This is my day off and I don’t do outcalls anymore. That’s been cleared with you guys for months.” the annoyance was beginning to shine through your voice.

“Yes, I’m aware, but special allowances have to be made when certain clientele....Desire your company...”

“Who the fuck do you think is special enough to get me out of bed right now?” you hiss into the phone

“Leonardo...”

You didn’t hear the rest of her sentence as you take a second to let that sink in. Half of you was pissed as hell that these rich boys get whatever they want and whoever they want just because they practically run the town through fear, but another small part of you was...Flattered.

“What time and where?” you ask

The madame gives you all the information and you hurry out of bed to get showered and ready. You only had an hour and a half to make yourself look presentable and actually get half way across town to his mansion.

Five minutes before you need to be out of the door, you take a second to admire yourself in the mirror. You had done a good job with your cat eye makeup and you were pretty sure your have him eating out of your hand with the little baby pink slip dress you were wearing. Underneath was another garter belt, thigh highs and a small heel. You could have gone bigger considering you were only average height and Leo must have been about 6′7 at least but you decided a small heel worked better with the aesthetic you were cultivating.

____________________

The uber pulled up the the enormous house that towered in front of you, driving carefully between the ornate and ancient statues that seemed the guard the entrance to the driveway. Opening the door and stepping out, the almost overwhelming aroma of roses filled your nose from the thickets by the front door. Everything was beautiful and clearly meticulously designed and placed. You felt your heart drop. What the fuck do I have to offer this guy who has everything? You swallow the lump in your throat and go to ring the door bell.

A small, round man dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat answers the door and smiles at you as if you ask why you’re here. Running a hand through your hair in an attempt to compose yourself (you’re a professional after all) you use your most confident voice to say:

“I’m y/n, and I’m here for Leonardo. He should be expecting me”

Realisation washes over the man’s face as he asks you to “please come in” and you take a seat in the foyer. You take a second to look around. The entrance hall is magnificent, a huge chandelier hangs above you with crystals or even diamonds (you weren’t sure but they were rich enough to afford such luxuries) casting glorious rainbows around the room as the light from the windows shines through it. The furniture had to be custom made, you’d never seen anything like it before and in the centre of the foyer is a round table with the most beautiful vase you’d ever seen and a carefully constructed bouquet of flowers sitting in it. You’d started to realise that maybe you were in too deep, but there was no getting out now.

It’s not long before you here footsteps coming down the stairs behind you. Leo and his older, and somehow taller, brother were walking down and seemed to be deep in conversation. They were still a little too far away to hear and they spoke in hushed voices but you could make out the purple suited one say

“She’s not talking” in a feverish voice to which Leo replied

“That’s not my problem right now, deal with her before I deal with you!”

it sounded serious.

Once at the bottom of the staircase and spotting you, he posture relaxes a little and he puts on that charming smile which reminds you that you need to do the same. That’s what he’s paying for, but he has such beautiful deep blue eyes that it;s difficult to not get distracted by them. He wore a black suit with very thing white lines going down it and a baby blue handkerchief in the breast pocket, his signature colour. He looked to die for.

He approaches and greets you with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek while telling you how beautiful you look. What a silver tongue he has.

He takes you on a tour of the house and garden, it’s clear that he’s only doing this as a formality, to get you comfortable around him and it isn’t to brag. He almost seems indifferent about his extreme wealth. There were a few rooms with heavy locks on the doors and he didn’t show you into those or one entire wing of the house; telling you that was under construction. You saw Donatello go through to that area, though but, you didn’t want to rock the boat by asking questions.

Eventually he took you out to the patio, it was stunning. More roses and other potted flower stood all around and the table was set with silver cutlery and beautiful wine glasses. He pulled a chair out for you to sit, like a true gentleman.

As waiters came and went, bringing you both lavish meals and more wine, you talked for hours. Well...You talked. He mainly listened and asked questions. You couldn’t help but feel entirely comfortable around him, something about his presence was so non-judgemental and sincere that you felt you could answer everything honestly and not put up a front like you usually would on other “dates”. The only trouble around when you spoke next.

“So I’m been rattling on for ages. Tell me about you. What do you like to do in your spare time? Do you like living with your brothers? Where did you grow up?”

That last question seemed to hit a nerve as he looked as if he winced slightly at it. He didn’t answer.

You put your hand on his

“Did you hear me?”

He pulled his hand away and looked you in the eyes

“I didn’t pay you to interrogate me. You’re here to sit and look pretty, not open your fucking mouth”

You were stunned. This sudden turn seemed to come from nowhere and that’s when you felt the anger rise up in you. You’d never been one to hold your tongue and you weren’t going to start now- consequences be damned.

“Well excuse the fuck me!” you began “Why is it that every guy feels so entitled to my life but so unwilling to tell me anything about their own? Oh yeah! Maybe it’s because they’re so boring an insignificant in this world that they have to pay a woman to come talk to their sorry ass because no one would do it for free. I thought you were different but it’s all for show, isn’t it? The house, the cars, the money... Nothing behind that, just another pitiful, sad little man who has to pay for a quick fuck. I’m outta here”

You throw your napkin down on the plate and walk away. You almost make it to the front door when a hand grips your wrist, turning you to face them.

Leo looks sorry for himself. It’s clear he knows the magnitude to which he’s messed up but he doesn’t say anything right away.

“Well?” you say impatiently? “Look, you wanted me here. I just go where the money takes me but for a second I thought there might actually be some kind of connection. You want a real date, then you have to tell me about yourself at least a little. That’s what real people do. But if you’re just going to be a giant douche with no respect, I’m leaving.”

“It’s not a happy story” he finally says through gritted teeth, hand still firmly around your wrist. “But if you want to hear about it, follow me”

He takes you upstairs a through a few more hallways until you reach what must be his room. It’s just as beautifully designed as the rest of the house but with a few more personal touches. As opposed to the slightly Italian looking architecture and design of the rest of the house, his room has katanas hung up on the wall and a small nook in the corner of the room where a tea maker sits. It’s more homely than the rest of the place. More his own.

He sits you down on the bed and slowly begins to explain.

He doesn’t go into too much detail, you imagine that would be too painful for him.He tells you how he was found in a sewer with his brothers and then made to wear chains and perform for sick crowds of smiling a grimacing humans and how he hated them. He mentioned the beatings and the torture, the hunger he felt everyday. He spoke on the anger his father harboured and how they would dream of a revenge so bloody and raw that he hoped god would look away while they did it. He told you about their escape and how it was the first time he’d know the touch of a human that hadn’t left a scar. It was all horrific and you couldn’t believe he survived that.

“...We still don’t know what Mikey saw that night but whatever it was, he didn’t talk for three weeks and now he’s...Well, now he’s the new Mikey. I don’t talk about it because who would want to know? And I don’t want pity, I don’t want your sympathy just because ‘boo hoo, he had a tough childhood’ ”

You place your hand on his cheek and turn his face towards you, he didn’t look at you the entire time he spoke.

“I don’t pity you” You began “I admire you. Going through all that and still being a functional person? That takes a strength I couldn’t muster”

You lean in to kiss him on the cheek, he turns his head and kisses you on the lips slowly, as if to savour every second of it. You hands go to his face and he lightly grips the back of your neck as the kiss intensifies. You lie back and he takes his place on top of you, between your legs and he trails one hand up your thigh to your hip, going just underneath your now bunched up dress.

He begins to kiss down your jaw line and towards your neck and your breath hitches in your throat at the pressure of his lips on your skin. His attention turns to your cleavage, he looks up at you as if you ask for permission and you nod before his head delves between your breasts, kissing and lapping at your tender flesh. You roll your head back and begin to pant slightly. The way he’s so attentive and gentle yet composed and in control is a nice contrast that few men can do successfully.

Cupping one of your breasts as he kisses it, you put your hand under his chin to return his mouth to yours and your tongues swirl together in ecstasy as you moan into his mouth.You can feel him hardening through his tailored trousers. Pulling back, you begin to unbutton his shirt as he takes off his blazer before reaching down between the two of you and cupping his bulge through his clothes. He almost growls at that and takes the top of your dress in his hands, ripping it down the middle. You look up at him wide eyed and he simply smiles and whispers

“I’ll buy you ten new ones”

You can’t see too well in the room as the sun is beginning to set but you can still make out how toned and muscular his chest is even in the half light. You run your fingers over his abs as he pushes up your dress and pulls down your underwear. Leo begins to kiss down your inner thighs, nipping gently as he gets closer to your sex

“No” you say suddenly. He stops immediately and looks at you “I want you. I just wanna feel you”

Pushing himself up onto his knees, still between your open legs, he undoes his belt, unzips him pants and pulls them down. His hard, thick cock bouncing free from its previous restraints. He takes a quick second to reach into his bedside draw and pull out a condom that he puts on with ease. He leans down and puts one hand firmly on the bed next to your head and with the other lines himself up at your already soaked entrance. You ready yourself for whats about to come, he’s bigger than your usual clients. He slowly pushes himself inside you and you gasp at the pleasurable agony of how torturous it is. Eventually he bottoms out and kisses you on the lips before looking into your eyes.

“are you ready?” He asks, you nod in return

His hips start at a slow but hard pace, obviously warming you up for whats to come. He nibbles at your ear and his hand becomes entangled in your hair, pulling it lightly as if to test the waters of how you feel about that. The more you moan the faster and harder he goes while whispering how much of a good girl you are in your ear and telling you how you take him so well.

All you can do is breathlessly moan and beg him not to stop, he looks into your eyes with a devilish mischief and says

“Stop? We’re only just starting”

He pulls out and flips you onto your front, pulling your hips up to meet his and enters you again from behind. He grabs one of your arms and pulls it behind your back, gripping it there to stay and place and with the other he gathers up the lengths of your hair and pulls so that you’re facing forwards. His pace is punishing and your eyes begin to tear up from just how mind blowing he is. Occasionally he would let go of your arm to give you a quick, sharp slap on the ass or to caress your hips a little but eventually he would always grip your wrist again, keeping it in place.

His pace begins to slow and he looks down at himself sliding in and out of you.

“Baby, you’re being so good. Look how well you’re taking me. Such an angel” he coos

“I- I can’t take much more” you whisper but he hears and chuckles to himself. Letting go of your arm his hand slides between your thighs and begins to play with your clit, each circle he rubs is in time with his thrusts and it’s driving you crazy.

“Leo, Leo! I-” you can’t take anymore as a full body orgasm rolls through you and you almost collapse if it weren’t for his arms holding you up. One more smack on your ass and a few more thrusts and you can tell he’s almost at his own release.

“Fuck baby” He purrs and he explodes inside of you before leaning down the kiss the centre of your back. He gentle places you down on the bed so that you don’t just falls that way and quickly goes to dispose of the condom.

You get under the sheets of the bed, still panting slightly and a thin mist of sweat is lining your forehead. Leo gets into bed beside you in the now dark room and you push yourself closer to him as he wraps an arm around you. You lean in and close your eyes against his chest. Sex always made you sleepy, well, good sex did. He looks down at you, kisses your hair and whispers

“You’re gonna need that sleep. I just know I’ll need to have you again in the morning”

You smile against his skin as he rubs small circles on your back as you drift off. The last thing you remember is him whispering, and you’re not sure if it was to you or himself

“It felt good to finally tell someone all that shit. I’m glad you’re here”

Feeling appreciated and satisfied you let sleep take you, only left to dream about what pleasures the morning had waiting for you.

The end

#show me yours and I'll show you mine #my fic #mob! au #mob au #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Pt. 6 "Bang Bang!"

CW: drug/alcohol description (explicit), mention of noncon/dubcon, vomit mention, injury description (past and new), emotional manipulation/gaslighting, creepy/intimate whumper, tourettes/tics, August in general, food mention, stalking mention, bondage, drowning mention, gun mention, gunshot wound, blood mention, character death (explicit) (Let me know if i missed anything!)

Elias woke up with a pounding headache and a nausea that he had never felt before. He couldn't even open his eyes, all he could do was curl in on himself with a groan. At some point he had been set on the bed, the blanket pulled over him. As he tried to recall how he got there, he came up blank. The last thing he remembered was sitting next to August, asking him for another drink. After that, it was all blank. As he pulled the blankets tighter around him, a jolt of pain ripped through his body, and he let out a whine. Everything hurt, every inch of his body felt mangled or broken or bruised. He wanted nothing more than to just pass out so he didn't have to feel it anymore, but he felt like he was spinning just laying there and it made him feel sick to his stomach in a way that wouldn't allow rest.

He heard the door open, carrying along the sound of footsteps and the smell of bacon cooking. He gagged at the smell, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, scrunching up his face in disgust.

"You awake, Eli?" August asked, his voice carrying softly in case he was still sleeping.

"Go away," Elias grumbled, "I don't wanna talk."

August let out a laugh, much to Elias's annoyance, and then to really add to his growing irritation, he felt the mattress sink down next to him. "Yeah, I bet you're pretty hungover, huh?"

"I'm serious August. Please leave me alone." He felt August's hands on him over the blanket, and he was suddenly furious. Hadn't he done enough? Elias was black and blue and still had caked blood on his face from his nose and felt like he might vomit any second, couldn't he just spend a little bit of time resting? Was that really too much to ask? As he sat up much quicker than even he was expecting, he shoved the blanket off of himself and pushed August's hands away. "I said leave me the fuck alone!"

August glared at him as the bitter words left his mouth, but it only lasted a second before he backhanded Elias across the face. He wasn't surprised at the broken cry Elias let out, or the fact that he had to grab him by his shoulders and press him hard against the wall to keep him upright after the blow. He leaned in intimidatingly close, until he could see the glistening tears building up in Elias's fear hazed eyes. "If you ever speak to me like that again I will rip your fucking tongue out."

Elias stared at him, eyes wide and silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't try to move away from him and didn't speak, paralyzed in fear. He wanted the pain to stop, he wanted to stop being scared, he wanted to go home. But all he could do was stay silent and allow August to break him.

"Never talk to me that way. Do you understand?" He was using a more steady tone now, less furious. He loosened his grip on his arms, and Elias could already tell his arms would have hand shaped bruises later. He finally nodded his head once, swallowing back his fear. "Good," his voice was kind again, a self-satisfied grin spread easily onto his face, "good boy."

Elias sighed shakily, looking down at his trembling hands. It suddenly hit him that no one was going to save him, that it had been days and he was still stuck here. August was right, Tyson didn't care about him like he thought he did, now that Allen was ok. He was going to die here. This was it for him. A chill ran down his spine, and he looked up at August as a sort of sickening acceptance hit him. He couldn’t help but hope that August, in his own twisted way, actually wanted him. Even if it only went as far as desire, of lust, he hoped that behind all the torture that August actually wanted him here. Because if he didn't... that would mean that no one wanted him. Not Tyson, not his parents, not even August. And he didn't think he could handle that.

"Do you care about me?" He whimpered. "Or am I just a replacement for Allen?"

"That's a stupid question," August huffed, letting go of Elias altogether. "I hardly even know you, idiot. Of course you're a replacement." He was still smiling softly at him as he said it, and if Elias wasn't really listening to what he was saying he wouldn't even realize he was being mean.

Elias closed his eyes, his heart sinking. This was all a game, he was just a toy, a warm body. Every nice thing he'd said was suddenly a lie, Elias didn't believe any of it. He wasn't beautiful or perfect or precious like August told him, which he knew, but knowing that August had been lying about it made it that much worse. And he had been begging for affection, allowing him to touch him so intimately. Now the deep nausea in his stomach worsened with the swelling disgust in himself. He noticed August was still staring at him with that sickly sweet smile, and he tried to plaster on his own nonchalant, carefree grin. Even he could tell it was faltering and not at all convincing, but the only other alternative was to show that he was hurting, that August's words bothered him, and that was even worse. "That's...that's so relieving." His voice caught painfully as he forced a mangled chuckle. "Here I was, worried you'd catch feelings and I'd have to break your heart." Even as he said it, even with the strained smile he wore, he was choking back his sobs.

"Oh, Eli," August sighed, seemingly defeated. His face softened a fraction -maybe, Elias could have easily been imagining it- and he looked almost like he felt bad for making him upset. "I was only kidding angel. Just giving you a hard time." He reached out and pet Elias's hair gently, frowning when the obvious hurt look on his face stayed. "You're so sensitive. I'm utterly obsessed with you."

Elias sniffled and brought his good hand up to wipe the tears out of his eyes, but once his fingertips fell on the damaged skin of his face, he decided it wasn't worth all the pain, and he let a few slide down his cheeks anyway. "You stress me the hell out."

August laughed at him and pushed himself off the bed. His black shirt had some sort of band logo on it, one Elias had never seen, and it made him a little uneasy to think of August being normal enough to like a band, to buy a tee shirt from them. It was too human, and thinking of August as anything less than a monster made him feel like the crazy one, like he was making up all of the torture.

"Come on, let's get you some breakfast."

Elias groaned at the mention of food, shaking his head. "Man, I can't even think about eating." He was yanked off of the bed by his arm anyway, letting out a sharp gasp and doubling over as a searing pain tore through him. He clutched onto August's shirt, his breathing hitched and short as he waited for the pain to subside.

"What is it, love?" August asked him, his voice concerned. Elias wanted to roll his eyes at his honeyed voice, it was giving him whiplash to try and keep up with August’s violent switch between caring about the pain and being the creator of it.

Instead, he could only shake his head, still unable to breathe correctly. He cried out as August scooped him up, then, almost like he was giving up, buried his face in his clothes. "You really hurt me yesterday," he whimpered, "I thought you said you would only hurt me when I misbehaved. I didn't misbehave."

"I didn't hurt you because you were bad, angel. I hurt you because you sound so pretty when you're hurting." He set Elias down in one of the uncomfortable kitchen chairs, smiling at the breathless whine he let out. "See, like that. Absolutely gorgeous."

Elias looked away from him, chewing on his lip nervously. He hated the way August explained everything like it was obvious, like Elias was missing out on very well known information. Of course August hurt him because he liked the way he sounded. Duh. He grimaced when August grabbed his face, tilting his chin up towards him. "You are so beautiful, Eli. So very pretty."

Elias couldn't help but lean toward him, sighing at the touch. "I wish you were so sweet all the time," he whispered.

August chuckled, running his thumb across Elias's lip, amused at the way he relaxed against him. He was surprised at how easy he'd been adjusting, so far. Sure, he was stubborn and foul mouthed, but he didn't expect him to be accepting, borderline wanting, touch so easily yet. It took Allen a little over a week to get where Elias was already. "I have to show you something," he said, already pulling out his phone.

August had had people keeping an eye on Tyson, following him to make sure he stayed clueless, leaving minuscule threats that were untraceable, ready to hurt him if he was getting too close to finding Elias. They had been sending August pictures as updates, and August was absolutely giddy at the few that they had gotten of Tyson and Allen, them clinging onto each other in a tight embrace, them going somewhere with Tyson's arm slung around his shoulders. Supposedly it wasn’t much more than a friendly touch because Allen was still with Leo, his free shrink, the one he called his husband, the one who Allen was using to make himself feel better. But that didn’t matter, Elias didn’t need to know that. As far as he needed to know, Tyson had handed him over and was now all touchy with his ex again.

When he turned the phone to show Elias, he watched his face fall into a dejected, hopeless frown. So August wasn't lying, then. Tyson really had traded him off for Allen, threw him to the wolves in order to protect the person he actually cared about. He turned away so he didn't have to see it anymore, closing his eyes. He had been hoping against hope that August was lying, clinging onto the belief that Tyson cared, that he would never dream of doing something so horrible. Maybe he was just stupid. Maybe he should have expected it from the beginning.

"See? You're better off here, where someone actually cares for you." August rubbed his shoulder as he spoke, his voice soft and almost...nurturing.

Elias looked up at him, nodding his head. "Yeah," he whispered. His voice was horse and tense from trying to choke back his tears. "Yeah, you're right." He sighed as August placed a kiss on his forehead, leaning into the touch. So that was it, then. Tyson didn't want him and probably wasn't looking for him, he was stuck here with August. He told himself it could be worse, August could do what he did to Allen and torture him and beat the shit out of him, and he wasn't, really. For the most part, he was just vaguely threatening when he wasn't being sweet and praising. He could live with this. Maybe if he was very well behaved, August would stop being cruel altogether, he could actually enjoy being here.

"Want some orange juice? It might help your hangover."

"Yes please," Elias answered, wrapping his frail arms around his battered body.

After August finished eating and Elias felt a little less like he was standing on death's doorstep, they were sitting in the living room, Elias on the floor in between August’s legs. He had his eyes closed as August played with his hair, listening as he hummed softly to himself. His headache was starting to subside, and August began to massage his shoulders. Elias wondered how long it would take him to actually wholeheartedly enjoy the touch, how long until it didn't come with a confusing mix of fear. Half of him wished it would be soon, it would be so much better than the gnawing anxiety he was feeling all the time. But the other half was appalled at himself for even so much as sort of wanting it now. Why would he want to enjoy the soft, obsessive touches of the person who had spent the last few hours torturing him? Why was he letting him touch him right now? He was an idiot, for not running away from him and doing absolutely everything in his power to keep his hands away from him.

"Are you feeling better, bunny?" August asked him, leaning over so his lips brushed against his ear. He smirked when he noticed that Elias's muscles grew instantly taut as he closed in on him.

"A little. My body hurts, sort of." He tilted his head back to look up at him, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile when he kissed his nose. "Th...thank you."

"Of course." He grabbed a fistful of his hair to pull him closer, Elias's already unsteady breathing faltered nervously. "Hey, I'm gonna invite some of my friends over later, is that ok?"

"Yeah, that's cool." He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to relax in his grip. He wasn’t really sure why August made it seem like he had any say in the matter. He was probably messing with him again, pretending like he cared, like Elias mattered to him. "Can we get drunk again?"

August chuckled, pulling off of him altogether. "We should just get high, I don't think your little body can handle anymore alcohol."

"I don't like weed," Elias grumbled, "I told you not to let me smoke again."

"Not weed then. I think I have some molly." He stood up, making his way to the kitchen. When he came back, he sat on the floor next to Elias, holding out his hand to show him the two small pills placed in his palm. Elias was scared, he hadn't even smoked weed or drank before he came here, he didn't know if he was ready for something like molly. But August was much less scary when he wasn't sober, much easier to be around. His stomach was in knots and his hands were shaking as he reached out to take the pills from him, and then he was tossing them back before he had a chance to change his mind.

Elias felt like he was floating, like his body and his mind were finally connected. His tics weren't painful anymore, they were borderline comfortable, like he was scratching an unreachable itch in his brain. The world around him seemed to glow, a bright and beautiful haze that enveloped him with warmth. Why had he been so scared to feel this way? This was what he wanted life to feel like all the time, this calm and pleasant and warm.

August's friends were loud and laughing from the second they walked in, they were all hands and flashy smiles and guttural laughter. Elias noticed how different August seemed around them, how he wasn't threatening or evil at all. He seemed so normal.

Elias was the focus of their attention, he seemed to amuse them quite easily. Particularly when he ticced. They all laughed and mimicked him, but it was all in good fun, to Elias. The laughter just felt warm and friendly, and the way August was looking at him with a wide grin made him feel comfortable with it.

"Hey, here's an idea," one of them spoke up, "let's take little Elias for a swim."

The rest of them chuckled and agreed, and Elias was yanked to his feet, the amount of hands on him was confusing, everyone was ushering him outside. But it was just swimming, right? August took him swimming a few times, and usually it was one of the few places he was safe, at least for awhile.

He blinked at the bright sunlight, looking at the glimmering pool and then at all the people around him. He felt his shirt being tugged at, and he began to feel nervousness creeping up his spine. He started frantically searching through the sea of people to find August, but every face that stared into him was unfamiliar and almost demonically grinning at him. He squirmed in their grasp, the fun suddenly seemed to ice in the air around him..

"Stop it, please," he begged them, still searching for August. "Come on, you're scaring me."

"Awe, he's scared," one of them teased, grabbing some of his hair and pulled it playfully, laughing at him, "look at him, he's still spazzing!"

Elias gasped as they pulled his shirt off, using it to tie his hands up behind him. He scrambled a little bit as they shoved him toward the edge of the pool, afraid of the suddenly dark and choppy water, trying his hardest to not fall in. It was all futile though, and they tossed him into it carelessly.

Elias could only think of one thing as he tried to kick his way to the surface: oh god I'm drowning! He couldn't seem to get the shirt off of his arms, no matter how hard he tried. His lungs were screaming for air, surely his panicked thrashing wasn’t helping, and through it all he heard a loud pop from above the water. He heard another, this time he felt something shooting threw the water next to him. Were they... Shooting at him?

He grew more frantic, fighting against the shirt and the water, suddenly lightheaded. After one of the gunshots, Elias's arm lit up in pain. His shoulder was burning, and he fought harder. The pool around him was dark with blood, making everything all the more horrifying. One last shot rang out, and seconds later Elias was pulled out of the water. He collapsed onto the rough concrete as he gulped in breaths, trying to ease the burning in his chest. The shirt was pulled off of his arms, and he cried out as his shoulder fell forward, remembering the pain. He was pulled to his feet, feeling himself being pulled into a warm, clothed chest. August. He was able to breathe a little better, but now he could hear the quiet wailing of someone behind him. August pulled away before turning him to his group of friends, one of whom was on the floor holding his leg as he cried. Elias noticed the puddle of red around him, and he paled. Had he shot himself by accident? As he thought it, a cold, heavy thing was pressed into his hand.

He looked at August questioningly, eyes wide. He felt August force his fingers around it, holding his fingers down with his own. "What... What?"

"He shot you, you're gonna shoot him back." He spoke through his teeth, an angry grit in his voice. So August had shot him. That made sense.

Elias shook his head, feeling August stretch both of their arms out to point the gun at him. "No! I don't wanna do that!" He whimpered, trying to pull his arm away.

"Stay still Eli!" August snapped. He held him still, tightening his grip over Elias's hand on the gun.

"Please, August!" The man on the floor wailed, writhing in pain still. Elias was shaking in his panic, watching him in horror. He flinched when August forced his finger down on the trigger and it made a loud pop. He froze, eyes wide as he watched the bullet pass through his head, and then watched him crumple to the ground in now an ever bigger pool of blood. He couldn't speak as August pulled the gun away from him and tucked it away. He stumbled as he was led inside, feeling light-headed and like he was about to vomit.

He was silent still as August sat him on the edge of the bathtub, cleaning the wound on his shoulder. He couldn't even feel the pain, his body numb.

"It's a pretty clean shot, I don't think it hit any bone. Kind of just grazed you." August spoke as he bandaged him up. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes," Elias answered mechanically, his voice wavering. He tried to breathe, but his breathing was unsteady and quick.

"Hey, look at me." August instructed. Elias looked up at him, his breath catching. "You're ok. Everything's ok."

Elias felt tears streaming down his face, but he still didn't really feel anything. "I think I'm in shock." He whispered.

"Yeah I think so. Let's go get you wrapped up in a blanket and get you some water, ok?" He helped Elias up, leading him into the living room. He draped a blanket over his shoulders and sat him on the couch. He left him to talk to the rest of his friends, and all Elias could hear from their conversation was something about getting rid of the body. He pulled his knees up to his chest, staring blankly at the floor.

August came back in, sitting close to him. He handed Elias a glass of water, smiling as he took small sips. "There. You ok?"

Elias looked at him, then back at the glass of water. "I shot someone," he stated blankly, "I killed someone."

"Mhm. And he deserved it, too." August petted his cheek gently to try and sooth him, but Elias stayed rigid and cold.

"I killed him. I killed someone." Now he was saying it like he was reminding himself what he did, trying to come to terms with it.

August pulled him into his arms, holding him tight. He was waiting for him to break, to get over his shock and start bawling or screaming, but he stayed eerily still against him, besides his shaking.

They sat that way for around 30 minutes, Elias worryingly silent in August's arms. He wasn't even ticcing anymore, he was so still that it was freaking August out. He pulled away to look at him, and when Elias made eye contact, his face twitched into a frown.

"What the fuck!" He gasped, his hands tightening around the blanket. His eyes welled up with tears.

"Hey, hey, it's ok," August soothed, wiping at Elias's tears gently. "You're alright, love."

"I can't believe...what the fuck did I do?!" He began to sob, his shoulders jolting with the gasps. "What the fuck! Holy fuck!"

August got concerned at his ragged breathing, the panicked rising of his voice. He couldn't say anything to calm him down, not when he was panicking so much, so he slapped him. Not too hard, just enough to jolt him out of his panic. "Listen to me, Eli. Everything is fine, don't work yourself up."

Elias bit back sobs, frowning at August. "I'm sorry," he whined, his lip trembling, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"You’ve got to stop freaking out like this.” His voice was scolding, like Elias had broken a plate or something only slightly annoying and not shot and killed someone. “Seriously, sweetheart, you’re letting everything get to you way too much. You’ll make yourself sick with worry.”

Maybe it was the tone of his voice, the way he was making it all seem so insignificant, but Elias believed him. He didn’t have any control over the situation, maybe there really was no point of getting so worked up, it only made it more scary.

“I want to get drunk again, now,” he breathed, his voice trembling and weak, “please.”

August grinned at him, nodding approvingly. “Ok, love. Whatever you want. Come on, we’ll go make some drinks.”

When they were in the kitchen, two of August’s friends were still in there, hovering next to the counter. One kept looking over his shoulder out the window, at the now red tinted pool outside, his face pale. The other simply stared at the wall to his left, his stare blank and faraway. Elias felt them turn to stare as he lowered himself into a chair at the kitchen table. He was surprised when the more obviously nervous one moved to sit across from him.

“Hey,” he mumbled awkwardly, “how are you feeling?”

Elias looked like maybe he didn’t hear what he said, using his good hand to pick at a chipped part of the table. There were traces of dried, partially washed away blood on his forearm. It had slid its way down his arm when August was bandaging him up and he hadn’t bothered to wash it away completely. Elias understood why, what was the point of it? What was the point in worrying or caring about anything? Like August said, like he was starting to realize, it was a waste of his energy to sit around upsetting himself over it, what was a little dried blood?

“I’m fine,” he choked out. “What about… what about you?”

The man shrugged, watching Elias’s hands shaking and ticcing every now and then as he tried desperately to keep them busy with the ruined wood. “I feel bad. It was meant to be a joke, it wasn’t supposed to go that far. I didn’t know he was gonna… I’m sorry that happened.”

August took a deep, aggravated sigh from where he was mixing their drinks. He didn’t say anything when he set a glass down in front of Elias, but he did trace his thumb over his wrist before turning to the counter. He made three more drinks, dispersed them to his friends and then sat down with his own.

They all drank in haunting silence, August seemed like he was the only one who wasn’t upset, his face was almost bored. Elias tried to mimic his levelheadedness, to try to not think about it. And yet, he kept having to reach up and rub the tears blurring his vision out of his eyes.

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 4 years

Text

Come Away With Me

Masterlist here

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x Female Best Friend Reader

Summary: The fact that you’re overworked is obvious. Tom takes matters into his own hands and whisks you away on a private holiday. Will your mutual pining finally make itself known in the secluded setting?

Warnings: A bit of swearing, some sexual innuendo, responsible alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is based off a request from @sabine-leo for a caring Tom to whisk away his best friend on a short break away from it all! Congratulations on your 3k followers, sweetheart! They are all very much deserved. <3

Also, thank you to @just-the-hiddles and @nonsensicalobsessions for giving this a glance and being amazing cheerleaders!

“Are you at home?”

A groan erupted from somewhere deep inside you, unbidden and unstoppable, in response to the heavenly ache of your feet flexing after slipping out of your shoes after a long day at work. You reached underneath your shirt and unhooked your bra, pulling it through the sleeve of your top to drop it onto the bed beside you. Bliss.

“Just got here.”

“You are working yourself to death. You should’ve been home hours ago. Have you eaten?” Tom’s exasperation bled through the tinny speaker on your phone, laced with concern that spread a comforting warmth inside your chest.

Your free hand snagged your comfiest lounge clothes from their rightful place in a pile on your dresser. Food hadn’t even been a concern with the stress that overrode your thoughts, consuming you and eating away at your sanity piece by piece. “Nope. I think there’s a granola bar in the pantry. Not that hungry.”

The faint but distinct sound of a car door slamming made it through the phone. “I’ll be over in thirty with the usual. No friend of mine will take such poor care of herself on my watch.”

There was no arguing with the stubborn man; a grateful smile tugged on your lips. “Thanks, Tom.”

“Love you.”

Tossing the phone onto your bed, you shoved the mismatched pajama pants and ratty t-shirt into a dresser drawer. Perhaps something a bit more put together and flattering if Tom was going to pop over…

“We’re going on holiday. Next week, Friday, as soon as you’re free from work.”

You almost choked on the beer you’d tilted to your lips. Coughing against the burning liquid searing your lungs, you set it down, staring at Tom with wide eyes as he rubbed your back in soothing circles that sizzled across your skin. When you could gasp a breath, you managed to blurt out, “Delusional-celebrity-best-friend-with-all-the-money-in-the-world says what?”

He chuckled, a light, breathy sound that you couldn’t help but answer with your own quiet laugh. “You are working yourself to the bone. Ah ah,” he picked his hand up off of your back and pointed a stern finger in your direction when you opened your mouth to deny it. “From one chronically, albeit self-imposed, overworked soul to another, there is no use pretending that you aren’t exhausted and in need of a break. Do whatever you must do to get your affairs in order, but you’re mine for three days.”

Damn if the demanding timbre of his voice didn’t send chills down your spine. You hid it by shifting on the couch beside him, dropping your eyes to the takeout carton in front of you. “You know I can’t aff-”

His hand settled on your knee, large and warm while his thumb brushed the outside of your leg. “Don’t force me to go on a weekend getaway all alone.”

There wasn’t any use attempting to fight the hopeful expression lifting his eyebrows and crinkling around his eyes.

Keys. Underwear. Swimsuit. Presentable pajamas. Enough outfits to last the trip. Charger.

The doorbell rang, pulling you out of your mental checklist as you stared critically at the open luggage sitting by the door. “It’s open!”

Tom strolled into the room, letting the cold in with him, greeting you with a warm hug and a kiss to your temple before joining you in looking at your suitcase with his arm draped over your shoulders. “Are we waiting for it to put itself in the car, or…?”

You slapped his chest lightly, the soft knit of his crimson sweater taking most of the force, before kneeling down to gather your things. “Just making sure I have everything. My brain is still a bit fuzzy after work today.”

He swept your belongings from your grasp with a wink and a smile that sent your heart skittering in your chest for his earnest beauty. This time alone was going to be the death of you. “I’ll pop this into the boot while you grab your coat and lock up.”

Your entire body gave into the exhaustion that had tugged on you relentlessly for what seemed like ages as soon as you sank into the heated interior of his car, surrounded by the gentle masculine scent of his cologne and oiled leather seats. Tom’s face was only partially lit by the occasional streetlamp or the glow of the dashboard as he guided his sleek car out of the city proper and into the countryside.

You’d wanted to stay awake, to watch the glow of small towns passing by, count the stars uninhibited by light pollution, even just pester him about where you were going, but it was all too easy to fall asleep rocked by the gentle turns of the car and lulled by Tom’s rich voice humming along quietly to the radio.

The typical sounds of busy city streets were absent when you woke. You frowned, blinking against the gray light streaming in through the windows as you sat up in a bed that was decidedly not your own. The previous night came back to you in groggy snapshots as you rubbed at the sleep in your eyes.

Tom gently shaking you awake. Guiding you to bed with his arm around your waist. Helping you out of your shoes and socks before picking out some nightclothes for you. Tucking you in and pressing a kiss to your cheek before telling you that he loved you. The brush of his hand across your forehead.

You didn’t even know where you were; you’d been too tired to ask the previous night. Running a hand through your mussed hair, you stumbled out of bed, staring out the window to see nothing but dense fog covering gently rolling hills. Not the most helpful scene for determining your location, but the peace of it all allowed you to take a deep breath that rolled through your body to settle deep in your soul.

The steaming hot shower loosened the muscles in your shoulders. The soft clothes that you slipped into erased the lines in between your brows. A pot of coffee waited in the quaint, but well-stocked, kitchen next to a note covered in chicken scratch meant to be words, maybe. Some squinting allowed you to pick out:

”Off on a run. Enjoy the coffee and relax. Be back soon. - Love”

With a mug warming your hands and a throw from the gray cloth couch in the living room tossed around your shoulders, you padded out in your socked feet onto the weathered deck that wrapped around the exterior of the cozy cabin Tom had rented. A chilling breeze rustling through barren trees was the only sound that reached your ears besides the soft blow of your breath to cool down your coffee. It was absolutely still, gifting you with a peace that only air perfumed with moist earth, crisp frost, and fresh evergreen could afford.

The cold was just about unbearable, fighting against your thin socks to sap the feeling from your toes, when a figure jogged down a gravel road to your left. It was easy to recognize the graceful silhouette of the man who’d whisked you away on this vacation, the lean lines of his body hard to mistake for anyone else even shrouded in mist and fog not yet burned by the rising sun. He loped up next to you, his chest heaving beneath his black t-shirt that was absolutely stuck to his skin with the sweat he’d worked up from his vigorous exercise.

Cheeks flushed. Eyes bright and focused as he smiled down at you. Hands carding through his hair - a dull copper in the light of the gray day. He was a vision. It was like your heart forgot how to beat. The intense desire to hear that ragged breathing in a different, more intimate setting, welled up within you so powerfully that you were thankful for the excuse of another sip of coffee to draw your eyes downward.

“Good morning, darling.” He leaned against the wooden railing behind you, squeezing your upper arm in greeting along the way. “Did you sleep well?”

You placed your finished mug down beside him, wrapping yourself tighter in your makeshift cape as you studied the fine figure of the man before you with a grin. “I did. Best sleep I’ve had in a long time, thanks to a certain someone carting me off to the middle of nowhere and then helping me into bed.”

His face fell with a sudden vulnerability that nearly split your heart in two it was so complete. “With how little time we both had available, somewhere close was the best option. And with the propensity for paparazzi to find me, I wanted both of us to relax without worry of intrusion. I apologize if it isn’t to your liking…”

You reached out and grabbed his hand without thinking. A shiver coursed through your body at the chill the opening in your blanket let in against your practically useless pajamas, but you’d do anything, risk any discomfort, to ease any tension in that man’s life. “No, no! It’s perfect. How about you go take a shower and I’ll whip us up some breakfast?”

He pressed a quick kiss to your head. Your lovesick heart convinced you that his lips, wonderfully soft and warm, lingered a second longer than appropriate between friends, that he inhaled the scent of your still-damp hair, but that was a fool’s wish driven by unrequited pining. “You spoil me.”

You pushed at his chest and crinkled your nose with a laugh. “Says the man who bankrolled this whole thing. Go. Shower!”

A mischievous twinkle lit up his eyes before he pulled you into a tight hug, swaying you back and forth as he forced your face into his damp chest with loud laughter that shook you both. You expected to be repulsed, but the clean scent of his sweat was so masculine and heady that you had to work hard to force your hands to push away at his sides instead of tugging him closer. The urge to tear off his shirt and watch the muscles flexing beneath your fingertips clenched deep in your belly. “Now you need a shower, too!”

“Get off me, you brat!” You wriggled out from his hold, blanket falling to your feet, mouth pulled back into an easy grin. The weight that had lingered on your chest for weeks lifted fully from his antics, and you knew he saw the tension disappear from the warmth that suffused his thoughtful gaze.

He swaggered towards you, a cowboy from westerns long ago in holey athletic wear and a finely accented voice that made your knees weaken, dropping his chin to rest his forehead against yours. “We could save water and shower together.”

Did he know the effect he had on you? Swallowing against the sudden moisture in your throat, you shoved him in the direction of the door, shaking your head. “Go!”

The frigid air biting at your flushed cheeks was very much welcomed after he disappeared. You sank back against the wooden planks of the house. With a drop of your head against the siding, you groaned, closing your eyes and crossing your fingers that you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself alone with Tom. If he continued on the path he was on, you weren’t certain of that success.

After a dinner of his world-famous bolognese with pasta and garlic bread, you sat on the couch next to one another, him picking idly at his guitar and humming little tunes as you watched him and sipped at your beer.

“You’re infuriating, you know that?” You softened the words with a broad smile, shifting so that you faced him with your legs tucked underneath you.

His brows quirked upwards as he looked up at you from his deft fingers plucking at the strings. The idle melody never ceased as he replied, “Am I, now?”

The drinks, the delicious food, the comfort that you felt in his presence all worked together to loosen your lips in a daring way you’d never risk otherwise. “For sure. You’re an amazing actor, you can cook, you dance, you’re so bloody handsome that it hurts to look at you sometimes, you saw that I needed a break and demanded that I come with you on this adventure, and if I recall correctly, you did have a movie that revolved a great deal of singing.”

A bashful flush spread across his cheeks, and his eyes dropped to his fingers which had slowly stilled during your tipsy admission. When he looked back up to you, heat darkened his gaze, and your blood pounded in your ears at the promises you read within. “Is that a challenge?”

“Is what a challenge?”

He rose from the couch and turned to face you fully. With a calming breath, he launched into Hey Good Lookin’. But unlike the movie version that you had watched religiously because of the haunting beauty of his character, this was slower, quieter, more intimate. Your fingers dug into the cushions beneath you as he held you captive beneath his powerful stare, all intoxication having melted away from him to deliver the song straight to the heart beating an impossibly fast drum against your ribcage.

You didn’t know how to proceed. Your body screamed at you to stand up, step into his embrace after taking the guitar from his hands, and give him what he’d asked for in roughly delivered song. But your mind cautioned you. It knew better. Knew that any flirting from him was most likely hope on your part. He was friendly, kind, affectionate in his trust. That was all.

So he moved for you, carefully placing the guitar on the couch before holding out his hand to you palm up in an invitation you would never turn down. “Did you bring your swimsuit like I instructed you to?”

“You’re absolutely mad!” Even just standing in the living room, staring out the glass doors at the hot tub that you honestly hadn’t even noticed throughout the day, you were shivering from the cold that seeped through the cracks to raise goosebumps on your exposed skin.

Tom stepped out of his bedroom, drawing your gaze with a dark chuckle that did terrible and wonderful things to your tummy. Especially in addition to the sight of him in just his swim shorts, the smattering of light chest hair drawing your attention down the middle of his lightly muscled chest to his abdomen before disappearing beneath thin black fabric. Very thin black fabric. You swallowed against the desire that had you imagining what you’d find if you followed that trail.

“You’ll be fine once you’re in the water!” he reassured you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you outside. He released you to quickly hop into the bubbling water with a gasp and then a rumbled moan that was made of such sin you forgot how to breathe. The sight of the dimples at the base of his spine made your fingers ache to trace the contours of his body until you had the feel of him memorized. Steam billowed from the water in white clouds lit from underneath the bubbles sounding so loudly in the quiet of the night. You swore you saw Tom’s eyes dart to your chest where the unforgiving temperature made itself known through the thin fabric of your suit. “The longer you resist the colder you’ll get!”

Steeling both your electrified nerves and your raging hormones, you slid into the water beside him, sounding your own moan at the heat that slowly penetrated the layer of cold that surrounded you like a second skin. Your bare shoulders and neck still felt the brunt of the winter air, though, and you drifted closer to Tom. “I can’t dunk my whole body in here, Hiddleston. What’s your solution to that?”

With a questioning look over your flustered face, the draw of his eyes from yours to your lips and back again, he lifted his arm from between you to pull your weightless body in the water until you sat sideways in his lap. His arm curled around your shoulders so his thumb could tease your collarbone, ridding you of any rational thought as you tried to grasp the new turn of events.

Tom had always been affectionate, freely doling out hugs, kisses on your temple, and even words of praise when the opportunity presented itself. But this? The curl of his breath against your neck and the rasp of his thumb over the hollow of your throat, it felt like something more. A continuation of the unsaid words littered between you on the couch earlier.

“Is this alright?” he whispered, barely audible over the bubbling tub, but you felt the words just as you heard them, traveling through your side pressed into the planes of his chest to wrap around your heart.

If only he knew how very much it wasn’t alright. How the press of his thighs into yours and the feeling of his heart racing against your arm was sending so many mixed signals that your brain threatened to short-circuit and spill smoke from your ears. Hesitantly, you twisted your torso just enough to hook your arm around his neck, scratching idly at his scalp. It was far more comfortable for you, but judging by the sharp intake of his breath, perhaps it wasn’t for him.

“Yes. Is this alright?”

He dropped his forehead to rest on your bare shoulder and tightened his grip on you ever so slightly. But you’d notice any minute twitch of his body with how attuned you were to the wonderful man holding you close. “Perfect.”

Despite the anxious energy bordering on heartbreak simmering beneath your skin wherever you melted into him, you had to agree. What more had you wanted out of life than to sit in a hot tub in Tom’s tender embrace, staring at the stars and just breathing each other in?

“You continue spoiling me like this and you’ll have to move in with me whenever we get back,” you teased, hugging him from behind, your face finding a home in the dip of his spine between his shoulder blades, your hands smoothing over the flat of his abdomen.

“I think that if we ever moved in together, you would come stay at mine,” he chuckled, dropping the spatula currently tending to the eggs for a proper fry-up to close a hand over yours. His fingertips danced over your knuckles. “You needed a bit of pampering, and I am fully up to the task. Breakfast is about finished, if you could get a few plates?”

When you turned back to him after grabbing two plates big enough to handle the absolutely massive amount of food he’d prepared, Tom was right in front of you, the food left unattended on the stove. Indecision warred in his eyes, and his hands fidgeted with the edges of the apron he’d thrown on over his t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms.

The sudden shift in his mood was so immediate that you immediately put the plates down on the counter. “You okay?”

A shaky breath. The rub of his hands over his clean-shaven jaw. His lips pressed together and he settled his hands on his hips, dropping his chin to look up at you through golden lashes that caught the light trickling in through the small kitchen window. “I love you.”

Those three words, uttered with such a hesitant, low voice and a somber expression, kickstarted your heart into overdrive. You adjusted your robe around your shoulders. It was a strain to act as if you didn’t simultaneously fall to pieces and soar to the heavens each time he said it, especially so early in the morning and without caffeine. But you managed, plastering on a weary, if a bit confused, grin. “I love you, too.”

A tentative step forward so that you were only a breath away from each other. His hands sought the curve of your waist, skimming over them in a touch so gentle and yet loaded with tension that you thought you’d explode. The various shades of blue, green, and gray that made up his eyes were visible just before his eyelashes feel to caress the tops of his chiseled cheekbones, giving you just a moment to realize what was happening before he touched his lips to yours.

Oh. You couldn’t have stopped your hands from skimming up his torso to cup his shoulders for anything. He pulled away for just a second, unsure by the trembling of his fingers against your sides, panting out puffs of air against your tingling lips.

“I love you,” he repeated, a hoarse whisper caressing your skin. Worry creased in between his brows and the flutter of his jaw.

You silenced his doubts. Your body found a home flush against his, pliant curves to firm planes, holding onto him as if letting him go would wake you from the lusciousness of the dream. Molten heat scented with coffee and sugar spilled out from the hunger of your kiss. You delighted in the taste of his plush lips. The lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips before he sucked and nibbled on your bottom lip was almost your undoing, and you were grateful for his neverending strength holding you securely in the band of his arms.

An acrid odor that singed your nostrils broke through your feverish haze to mix unpleasantly with the aftershave that tickled at your nose along his cheek. Both of you sprang apart from the other, turning to see the eggs burning.

“Fuck!” he shouted, ripping the pan from the stove to throw it into the sink. He fanned away the smoke toward the window with flailing hands, but it wasn’t open, and the frantic sight of him after such an intense moment burst the bubble between you. You doubled over for a second, giggling at the ridiculousness of it all.

When you had managed to calm down after opening a few windows, you sank back against the counter, putting on the best pout you could muster despite the happiness singing inside of you. “But I love eggs.”

He quickly trapped you in his arms, spinning you around and peppering kisses up the column of your throat in a way that had you dizzy and breathless. He nipped at your earlobe and growled, “I’ll give you something else to love, darling.”

Tidbit of Tom taglist: @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ladyblablabla

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @snoopy3000 @silverswordthekilljoy @villainousshakespeare

#tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston/reader #tom hiddleston fluff #fluff #friends to lovers #tom hiddleston x reader

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ne-fe-li-bata · 3 years

Text

Aye yo CORPSE! ...

Dead ass;

You can't convince me that Corspe was/is/does ;

in no particular order..

• Deserve to be held ( I would smother him with my chest and hold him tighter than he has ever been held) & protected from this world

• Pyro! Mans loves🔥🔥🔥 - mostly his fav elemental (Leo is a fire sign); “WOOO... now that’s a fire!”

• Loves knives/weapons- has a collection (quite a nifty 1, ay thank-a-you) & even knows how to use butterfly knives/ tackle combat.

Has a collection of weapons (brass knuckle, daggers, swords, knives,etc.)

• Highly interested in combat/training. Most likely has training in some sort of combat. Loves any form of physical combat < UFC,MMA, Boxing, any type of martial arts>

• Absolute proper gentlemen / clearly has the utmost charm/cunning

I.e holds the door open & will slap yo ass on the way in, moves you away from street side when walking, pulls chairs, defends your honor, etc.

• Takes A . L . O . T to truly capture his attention- but once you have it ..%100

• With his person; protective/obsessives/ possessive/ sensual/ affectionate .

< mine is mine. me no share -like absolutely not at all>

“ You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for ya“

• RP'er on DeviantArt/chats had his own OC. (also prob had his fav person to RP with)

• Watched mostly nothing by anime/cartoons (nick/CN) as a kid & also mostly watched certain shows/movies as a kid well into his teens

(could recite quotes/scenes as second nature)

• Not a major musical theatre type of kid. But musical movies/shows was 1 of his favs- but still highly interested/ in love with theatre/musicals/preforming arts none the less.

-EYES DON’T LIE

•’staring problem’ he’d just stare at you -deep in his head (both good & bad) you’d have to bring him back to you ..”babe- eh, come *snap*back to me. What’s on your mind my love?’

• Genuinely a really warm person- but only to certain people, but comes across cold & distance

• Grew up in the internet & knows the way around the 'business' & 'faceless' YouTubers/celebrities

• His teens/ late adolescents consisted & grew up on YouTube O.G videos/ video game commentary/content;

Cry.. <Cry was a huge part of my life & still hold a special place in my heart. Corspe just like I was most likely devastated with the shit that went down>

Jack

Nova

Sp00n

Jontron

Smosh

Nigahiga

Shane

Jenna

Hanna Hart

Phil/Dan

KevJumba

Ray William Johnson

Pewds

Machinima

EMT

ERB

Wassabi Prod.

VlogBros,

-etc

• Has an oral fixating (lovebites indefinitely <like dead ass ya’ll be chillan/ out & he’d attack you> & just needs something in his mouth always)

• Fidgety af, always need to be playing with something in his hands/playing with

• Is a goddamn absolute certified freak--but also super soft bean boi. (can't stress how this boi needs& deserves to be protected)

• Constant hand/arm touching/stroking for comfort.

• Daddy{papi} / Mommy(mamá) . Master . Sir kink - hard control kinks- but highly sub.

hard(er) kinks

• Lovebites = M I N E

obvs fishnets/ crossbody straps/ lingerie

lace

collars/ restraints

toys

•RP

degrading/praising

sub/dom switch

showing/proving your actually/completely & utterly his/ he’s completely & utterly yours..

& of course you know it's go time when 1 - if not both of you has kitty ears on.

over stim

*no touchy/ don’t let me go*

“look at what I’ve done to you”

“you kno only I can do this to you”

“look how greedy you are for me”

“look at the mess you’ve made because of me’

“cum on my face”/’cum for me”

“who do you belong to” / “you belong to me & only me”

100% all black clothing 🖤

*that once we get home / I swear I’ll deal with you right here, right now* look

primal play “when you run from me, it only makes me want you more” “you know imma find you kitten”

pet names (beast< i feel like you call this man “ (a) beast”-he about to lose his absolute fucking mind> , “oh Corpse/______, you absolute fuckin’ beast- my God” kitten, babyboy/girl, baby(e), bae, my love, lover boy, my darling, slut, needy little bitch, cum slut, lil’ whore, master/mistress, king/queen”

“only yours” “just ______” “ no-one but _____” “only____” “only you”

‘I’ll keep you so no one can find you or bother us’

“that’s my girl” / “that's my boy”

“would you like to/ I saw----”

“look at me” “don’t look away from me”

GROWLING / talking through clenched jaw

not breaking eye contact

• his name & ‘Corspe’ being cried out

“cry out my name for me baby. know who you belong to”

video/sexing/teasing

breeding kink

voyeurism

abrasions

aftercare af

impact play

24/7

edging

accidental stim; “holy fuck- I’m so turned on by you rn”

rope bondage

begging

worships

• But also soft kinks;

MEME SENDING

head on lap/chest

naps

playing with hair

matching outfits

voice messages

always touching (somehow)

no space between bodies

picture taking together/ just of you

body rubs, head rubs

massages

competition

play fighting

“this reminded me of you”

“I remember you said” “I know you...”

“you know I love you”

“I can tell by your eyes”

“ugh- I swear to shit imma marry you 1 day”

“nothing really made sense until you”

“do you wanna watch”/ “WAIT!? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN?!”

“damn- you really do love/like me, eh?”/ “you are SO fucking mine”

“that’s my girl”/ “that's my boy”

pet names/ “MY_______” “YOURS”

long stares

dates- stay at home dates are his fav, as your attention/focus is just on him

choker/necklace/ jewelry (that 1 of you bought- NOT LIKE HIGH PRICE TAG, but like seen it & was like ‘omg ____ would so wear...’)

cuddles with movies /anime watching time

just being in the same room/on call- even in silence

* emojis*- just some sort of communication

inside jokes/ puns/dark humor

seeing 1 another with kids

future kink (family, travel, etc)

playing video games

dancing/ singing with 1 another

Sitting on the ground, wrapped around his leg when he streams/edits

Nerf gun fights

Watching him record (tracks/editing/streaming)

• Loves- loves surprises <like dead ass would set up a surprise date/ do a scavenger hunt for you/ surprise you with your fav thing>

• Loyalty is everything & his best attribute (& pride)

• The music that he make is from the soul/heart. He pit everything has has/what he has left into his art

• No one has seen the real him - a side he truly hides

• He's both book & street smart

Taught himself through YouTube/Reedit/online

• Fav actors; Jim Carrey/Robbin Williams/Will Smith (?)

• Man’s straight up dangerous. we only know like a quarter of him & people fall at his feet. ( h e . i s . n o t . t o . b e. F U C K E D . w i t h)

• Hates silence

( constantly needs background noise) <also can't fight me on this babyboi cuddles pillows/blankets for night-night time>

• People don't understand the pain he is in every day, unless they have fibromyalgia/GERD/high functioning (sever social)anxiety/depression/ agoraphobia

(my mom suffers with fibro/depression <I myself have GERD/ sever social amenity/depression>& I wouldn't wish those illness on my worse enemy...)

• Over all pain has changed him

• Has dealt with self harm since a young age- most likely 9- 11 yrs old. (as someone else who’s suffered with SH for years- when you become so numb it 1 of the only ways to feel some sort of anything/makes you feel like you’re alive)

• Addiction (drugs/people/things)

• Wrote & read a lot of fanfiction

(most likely his main source of reading in pre/teenage years)

• Is a hopeless romantic but has his guard way up

• Obsessed with Japan / Studio Ghibli

• Doesn't think he deserves any of the recognition/ fame he's gotten--but definitely deserves it all as he's creative & inspirational as fuck. Also he’s worked so hard for it & had put himself through so much

Contrary is highly appreciative of those that are supporting

• Doesn't do it for the fame but for the fact he know how he's gotten people through hard time (just like those on the internet got him through)

• Was a scene boy that vibe’d of myspace/ listens to a lot of ‘scene’ pop-punk, emo/ scene band shit (band?)

• Also is/was a major tumblr boy

• Would be a phenomenal father

• His love language: physical touch & words of affirmation

• He would flinch at touch movement but would melt in your hands

• Face caresses would trigger anxiety/ tears.. but once he’s calmed/comfortable would burry his face in your touch. neck & chest

• Still caught up in daydreams

• A part of him is still never satisfied even if it’s exactly to the pin point detail of what he wanted

• Has at least 40/50(ish) songs he hasn't released

• Mommy & daddy issues (not saying his home life was really- really fucked - but non the less- it certainly wasn't the best).. Also wants to protect/provide for his family (especially his sister) & was prob closer to a grandparent/aunt/uncle)

• Definitely prefers to be by himself, as every time people come around, it's like;‘"this is why I'm okay (ish)with being alone"

• lost an important person to him due to O.D/ suicided..

• Also most likely to of heard his "friends" shit talking 'Corpse' or something correlated with him

• His pride is his biggest sin (next to lust)

• Has single-handedly defined a huge part of 2020 ( in the best way)

• Went through a fighting stage where he was ready to fuck anyone up on a drop of a dime (middle/'high school'/street fights- possibly even under ground)

but also a stage where he cut absolutely everyone off for a solid couple years

• Most likely obsessed with 1 of 3 creatures; lion, dragon, wolf ( 5ish- possibly bear/fox)

• Dinosaur obsessed

• Internet & video games raised him

• He raised himself

Quick to adapt to surroundings/situations.

• Mighty Morphin Power Rangers was his shit ( I CAN SO SEE YOUNG BABYBOI RUNNIN AROUND THE HOUSE IN A POWER RANGER SUIT) "IT'S MORPHIN' TIME MOTHER FUCKER"

fav ranger- green

• Has up until next year planned out & is working on the next 'version of corpse' ( PR, vids, music, etc)

• Also med/high key this man was most likely in a physcward (more than once) ..

• This man deserves more than he'll ever give himself recognition for & knows in the back of his mind--people will hate just to hate

• Rose is his fav flower 🌹

•⛈️🌧️. >🌞. Loves storms/ rain & prefers them over sunny days

• Loves the moon/stars/space (?) < observatorium dates = fuckin mint>

• Pixar/Disney lover

• Fav Pixar movie.. either Wall.E or Toy Story

• Pixar > Disney

• But fav Disney movie- Beauty & the Beast (?)

• Most likely had a Jackass obsession's (doing dumb hoodshit)

• Fall is his fav season (?)

• Horror/ thriller movies/shows over everything (obvs)

• Had an escape place in town where he’d hide from the world- that absolutely no one knew about.

• Was really into graffiti/ street art

• Arested as a youth - but charges dropped- or was still considered a mirror (either fighting/ possession/ trespassing/ vandalisms)

• Arrested on heavier charges (also same as above - but not tried as an minor)

• also-ALSO ... thou he feels like he owes people something. HE DOESN’T OWE ANYTHING TO A N Y O N E . His mental & well being is the most important.

• On a side & major note. You can't deny that this man single handily is a (in my opinion) the 2nd biggest “C” that define 2020.

• Was most likely really into skateboarding/BMX

• Late night drives/impulsive road trips & playlist/ sitting at lookouts, just in silence & touching 1 another.

• Clingy af-.. but could also be distance & cold af- especially on high pain days. stormy brain days. PTSD episodes.

• Slow dancing/ dancing around the apartments. with or without music.

• Rocking out with each other- screaming lyrics in each other face.

• “hey baby- how you feelin”

*grunting* *shuffles over & lays on chest*

• Huge comforts for 1 another;

Especially when going out, being wrapped around him for comfort & reassurance. Even being at home alone together- panic attacks are shit, PTSD episodes are even more shit. helping each other with bathing & caring

When he’d be hiding from his reflection- or stares just a little too long. Going up behind him & worship him (vise versa)

• He’d be your biggest hypeman/ #1 fan (vise versa)

• Would LOVE you wearing his clothes/jewelry & would love to wear you things.

Was probably engaged to his ex (that's why he gets offt when people mention "corpse wife"

There'd be days where he'd be so distance & cold.. & tell you to leave but wouldn't let you.

He'd sit in the bathroom with you when you shower/have a bath.

As he doesn't sleep most night. He'd be up just watching you sleep & caressing you.

Lil spoon > big spoon.

I love you... genuinely . turly. madly. deeply.

#dear cropse #if youre seeing this #i kno youll be okay #im sorry for everything you've had to go through #plz kno #to me #you are my brightest star in a universe of supernovas #you make everything okay for me #till fate do us part #i kno 1 day we'll meet #the universe will bring me to you & you to me

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bbrandy2002 · 5 years

Text

The Fall of Cordonia

Chapter Six: Revelations

Summary: Amalas reveals a huge secret to Liam as he faces his past. Baby Nikolas is found, but, getting him away safely will prove difficult as Drake and Bastien sacrifice to save he and Liam.

A/N: This will have two very violent deaths of beloved characters. Feel free to message me beforehand for a spoiler if you need to. I'm not joking!!!!!!!!!!

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Death, Gore....the usual.

Liam stepped into the office of his enemy, welcomed by a hazy smirk and venomous eyes.

Amalas knew he would come and she was ready for him. This was her moment to shine, to turn up the heat, to lay all the cards on the table. She needed him to know who he was truly dealing with and in her eyes, she was a force to be reckoned with.

For all of her confidence, Liam had his own. If she really believed the deck was stacked in her favor, he was prepared to deal them for her.

Liam noticed her tattered, bloodied clothing and the way she clutched her wounded side, almost immediately. Before he could ask, her eyes motioned to the far wall of her study.

Olivia sat perched against the wall, her long, red hair, matted to her face with fresh blood. A short sword impaled into her stomach and penetrated into the panel she rested against. Liam could feel himself losing it as his eyes widened in astonishment and disgust. Everything in him wanted to run to his longtime friend, hold her the way he did when she was five and cried in her room for her deceased mother. Doing so could be costly and Olivia would be the first to tell him to save himself.

He inhaled deeply, quickly exhaling, regaining control of his emotions and wits. Liam knew Amalas was a dangerous woman, however, this level of evil, took him by surprise. He couldn't afford to grieve or be in shock, one wrong move, or a moment of letting his guard down, could be deadly.

Amalas sidled up next to him, he gave her a sideways glance, maintaining his poise.

"Poor, Poor Liv....tell me Liam...should I leave her nailed to the wall or use her as rug?"

Liam clenches his fists, knowing she is toying with him and he refused to play into her taunt. He clears his throat, redirecting the conversation, "I believe we have some things to discuss".

She lets out a weak chuckle, feeling the effects of her bloodloss, her face starting to pale, breaths becoming more difficult. She slowly crosses the floor, stopping at her extensive liquor cabinet, "Can I offer you a drink first?", she asks feebly. Amalas picks up a tumbler in one hand and catches her balance with the other.

Liam soon realizes she has a mortal wound and without her security in the room, he could very easily strangle her to death right now. Her departure from this life would be fitting, she was, afterall, partially responsible for killing or maming his people and friends. He needed answers, and though Olivia was able to get a good lead on Nikolas, there was one more thing he needed to know.

"The only thing I want from you is answers", he replied, inching closer to her, knowing he has the upper hand. Time was his friend, Amalas wouldn't last much longer without being treated. She was headstrong and ruthless, like their father, he knew it was in her genes to not show weakness.

As the blood continued to flow in small, steady streams down the lengths of her legs, she sipped cooly on her scotch. She motioned to the end of the sofa, as she winced into her position on the opposite end. "You want answers? What would you like to know?".

Liam hiked up his suit pants and sat down on the edge of the sofa, "What's your game plan, why go to such lengths to destroy me".

Amalas let out a soft laugh, biting her lip in pure, unadulterate pleasure. She was anxious to shake Liam to his core and revel in doing so. It wasn't that she hated him, but, all of her training and upbringing led her to believe he was an untrustworthy foe, right behind their father. Cordonians had lavished in riches, but, also a long history of malicious and deceptive rulers. Amalas being half Auvernalian by birth, was primed and ready to expand its territory and bring her Cordonian half to its knees-it was her birthright too.

"Answers", she replied contemptuously,"...where do I begin....perhaps you would like to know more about your Queen's poisoning...or".

Liam grabbed her arm, cutting her words off, "What the fuck are you talking about?".

"Ahh, did Liam's little red haired pet not find out about that? I pegged you both as more intelligent than this", she jerked her arm away from his grip, "I suspect that in all the chaos after the attack and a non-existent staff left, you weren't exactly watching what Riley's new psychiatrist was slipping her.....and with you and your two lackey's away from the country, you've given them free reign".

Liam reaches into his suit pocket, frantic to find his phone. He stands and moves away from the sofa, attempting to get through to his wife-there is no answer. He sends an urgent text to Bertrand, who is staying in the palace with Bartie, insistant he check and stay with her until he returns.

Amalas watched gleefully as she prepared for her next reveal, . "I presume", she interrupted him, "you came to know more about our...connection....dear brother".

Olivia had sent him intelligence that Amalas was, indeed, Constantine's child with an unnamed woman from Auvernal. It wasn't something terribly surprising, his father had several children throughout Europe, all unclaimed, but, known, nevertheless. Amalas, however, was an anomaly-one who wedged her way into power, slipped between the cracks...had Constantine even been aware that the woman who married the King of Monterisso, was his child.

She pushed herself from the sofa, clutching the arm rest for support, her legs wobbling as she made her way to her desk, grabbing a file from the top.

Liam stood, following closely behind her, smearing her blood trail with his footprints. She was within minutes of collapsing for good and he would be damned if he would allow her the opportunity to kill him.

She turned to face him, handing him a small file, her dull eyes searching his face for an initial reaction as he began to thumb through it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes widened in confusion and astonishment as he continued to read and gaze. Pictures and documents, one after the other, exposing the culprit for the mission: Fall of Cordonia. His lips began quivering unmistakably and a single tear dropping, as answers became more clear. His blue eyes losing its gleen, he could no longer control his trembling hands as he drops the file to the floor; papers scattering around their feet.

A large smile tugged at the corner of Amalas' lips...she did it...she got him. With that, she falls to her knees at his feet, and collapses onto her back, her smile faded.

Liam watched her body jolt as she struggled for breath, drowning in her heavily filled lungs. He could let her suffer in this state, but, he wasn't satisfied with that. He walked over to Olivia, grabbing the pommel of the sword ripped into her, pulling it out carefully. After kissing her forehead and lowering her to rest on the floor, he whispered, "This is for you Liv".

Returning to Amalas who was choking heavily and writhing in anquish. Liam pressed the tip to her chest as he watched her eyes seemingly begging him to do it already, to end her pain. He wanted to do it, he was charged to kill her mercilessly. He, instead, tossed the sword aside, allowing her to slowly suffer and die from the wound inflicted by his friend-that was justice.

He knelt down beside her, hovering closely to her ear, "Let it be known Amalas...you were defeated today by Olivia Nevrakis...and that shithead, Bradshaw's neck was snapped in half by Leo...but our mother....I assure you, will reunite with the two of you in hell very soon". He tapped her cheek with the back of his hand and a victorious smirk, "Straight flush bitch...I win".

Amalas exhaled one last time and expired.

Liam stood, scooping up the scattered documents, placing them back in the folder, before exiting the study with them.

******

Drake and Bastien were waiting a short distance from a small, off the road compound, just outside of the city. They had recieved a text from Liam telling them Amalas was dead, as well as, Olivia. He also had Bastien reach out to his contacts in Cordonia to ensure Riley's safety.

Liam parked his rental car next to Bastien and Drake's, pulling off to the side of the dirt road. While he had been with Amalas, they were scoping the area, trying to find the entry of least resistance, discovering the compound to not be as heavily guarded as expected.

Bastien moves to the back of the vehicle, opening the trunk to a cache of weapons he had prepared beforehand. Drake still bandaged from his bullet wound in Valtoria, watched as Bastien loaded his vest with a variety of high powered gear.

When everything was ready to go, Liam began to follow them, however, Bastien insisted he remain behind.

"My mother has my son in there, Bas, I'm going".

Bastien and Drake gave an astonished look, unsure if what he said was misheard.

"Did you just say your late mother has Nikolas in there?", Drake questioned.

Liam nodded, still unable to process the very words he just spoke, his beloved mother. He told them about the file Amalas had given him before her death, the proof of her current and previous involvement spelled out clearly.

Eleanor was sent to Cordonia by the late King of Auveral, being his longtime mistress, to seduce and spy on Constantine during his social season. Her job was to convince him to ally with their country and use her influence as queen to weaken his stance enough they could overtake him. It worked like a charm, he fell in love with her, yet, Constantine was more ruthless and unshakable than had been imagined.

She played her part well, diverting the crowns money back to her home country. When Jackson Walker confronted her after finding out, she had him killed and fled the country, knowing Constantine would soon know, as well.

Drake and Liam remained hidden as Bastien detailed his plans to get them all past the six, heavily armed guards at the entrance, knowing there were at least two to three more on the opposite side of the wall.

Bastien tossed a Glock pistol to Drake, instructing him on which guard to hit and when. Liam crouched down, his nerves rattled, praying that this diversion wouldn't create a more dire situation for Nikolas. If his mother felt threatened, would she take it out on his baby? Could he be hit in the crossfire? Was he really even in there?

Bastien aimed his high power rifle, signaling for Drake to get ready. Both lifted their weapons, focused on their targets, and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Liam closed his eyes, attempting to steady his nerves, staying hidden at Bastien's insistence. A worried father who just found out his mother is actually alive, can make impulsive, rash decisions that may get he or his companions killed.

"Ready Drake?", Bastien whispered.

"Yeah, I've got my target"

On three, both men unleashed a firestorm of bullets, quickly taking out several guards. They were met by a fury of return fire as they took cover behind trees.

They were startled to see an onslaught of guards exit the compound, many more than were previously thought. As Bastien peaked out to the side, he realized there was no way they could defeat them all before the guards caught up to them.

As bullets ricocheted around them, Bas calculated his next move. Prepared to carry out his duties faithfully, he commanded Drake and Liam to escape further into the woods. Both questioned his tactic and reasoning, but, he refused to say why, just adament they do as he said.

Drake could sense what was about to happen would be devastating. "Don't do this Bas", he pleaded, determined to find another way.

As their enemy moved closer, Bastien grabbed Drake by the collar, "Get the fuck out of here Drake! When it's done, you protect His Majesty and retrieve the young prince...my orders, son".

With tears pooling, Drake hugged Bastien, before he grabbed Liam to run deeper into the forested surroundings.

Bastien readied the pin, holding it tightly in his hand, awaiting his destiny. The gunfire stopped, but, the approaching footprints continued. He laid face down, in surrender. As the compound guards surrounded him, they began tugging at him and forcing him to his feet, hitting and kicking everywhere. Just as the head guard advanced to enact vengence on the killing of his men, and the vast majority of the guards surrounding him, Bastien pulled the pin.

The ground shook as the blast echoed past Drake and Liam, both, now in deep sorrow over the loss of their good friend.

Liam slunk down to his knees, reeling from yet another personal tragedy. There were too many people he loved dead, many of which were caused in order to defend he and his family. As his mind was wracked with guilt and pain, it was the faint cry of a baby that gave him pause. His gaze met Drake's, knowing that they had found Nikolas.

Drake aimed his pistol as he and Liam headed towards the compound, attentive and cautious of their surroundings. As they entered through the gate, Drake shot and injured another guard exiting the home. The sound of Nikolas' cries were now becoming louder and more recognizable.

Stepping over the injured man Drake just shot in the doorway, they stealthily move inside, allowing the unsettled cries to guide their direction.

As they rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, they enter into an open living room. Liam's sight instantly fell onto Nikolas, then to the woman he once knew as his mother, holding the baby in one arm and a small handgun in the other.

"Hello son....I've been expecting you".

#the royal heir #liam x riley #king liam #drake walker #dark #trh fanfic #choices trh #trh liam #trh #queen amalas

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justagoddamnbranch · 7 years

Text

((Still a lot of sensitive content, if you don’t like violence in particular don’t read))

Wrought part 2

Words: 1570 Rating: T

Leo had about an hour of sobering up before he headed out through the woods to Petey’s house. An hour was long enough right? He’d drank just about the entire pot of coffee and was all jittery so that was a sign he was sober, yeah? Probably, either way this shouldn’t wait too long he needed to apologize right then. Hopefully they were back and didn’t stay over at the church afterward, he didn’t think he was going to be welcome back over there any time soon.

He was within sight of Petey’s house and saw someone hop up from the couch, oh good they were home. Leo waited at the edge of the treeline for them, and soon enough saw them slide open the door. It was Petey. He didn’t look happy at all as he stomped over towards Leo. That was fair, given the circumstances.

Once he was close enough to talk Leo stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak.

Petey barked at him.

Petey barked at him? Petey didn’t bark, what was going on?

“Get outta here.” Petey warned, nose scrunching up in anger

“Listen-”

Petey was full on growling at him now, baring his teeth and hunched down slightly. He looked really scary, and a small part of Leo told him to run. Leo took a step back, putting his hands up in submission.

“Petey I-”

“I’ll give you one sentence to either convince me or get away from my house.”

Leo took a deep breath in and let it out. “Listen I’m really stupid.”

Petey stood up to his full height and walked calmly over to him, searching in his eyes...before reeling back and punching him as hard as he could in his right eye. Leo let out a string of cusses, cupping his eye with his hand and leaning down.

“Yeah you are. Now go home.” Petey spat at him

“Dude, why’d you sock me in the eye?” Leo sounded completely betrayed

“I told you I was gonna beat your ass into the ground, and I’m a fuckin man of my word.”

“Please-”

Petey punched him again, this time in the teeth, loosening a couple in the front. Leo let out a pained groan and looked up, in time to see Dustin dart back from his open bedroom window. Petey stepped back, he knew he had to have had Leo angry by now and he knew that he couldn’t win if it was blow to blow. Leo was a lot stronger than him, so he was going to have to outsmart him. Leo straightened out and let his hand fall from his eye, it was definitely going to be a real shiner. He blinked a couple times to adjust to it, meanwhile Petey ducked behind a tree.

Leo could smell where he went, and Petey was counting on that. He cautiously went up to the tree where Petey was and cleared his voice. Petey poked his head out from one side then disappeared back behind the tree.

“Petey what the hell are you doing?” Leo sighed

Petey answered by poking his head from the other side, higher up this time.

“This isn’t some kind of game! You really hurt me.”

Petey poked his head from the same side, lower down now. He stuck his tongue out at Leo.

Leo huffed and went to the left side, just as Petey thought. He was right there, and ready to deal another blow. He wasn’t expecting Leo to lean down and look though, so his punch was misdirected and hit him square in the nose. Leo stumbled back, cupping his hand against his nose.

“Fuck!”

Leo brought his hand away from his face, there was a lot of blood and a tooth on his palm. He let the tooth fall to the ground and wiped his face, only smearing more. Petey’d broke his nose and there was a steady stream dripping off of his chin. Fine, if he wanted a fight, he was going to get a fight. Leo threw a punch that was aimed for Petey’s sternum, but he turned and it landed on his shoulder joint instead, the direct force slightly dislocating it.

Petey gripped his arm and growled at Leo, “Bitch.”

Petey kicked Leo in the balls, sending him onto the ground. He laid on his side and curled up, moaning in pain.

At this point Dustin came running out, and was about to grab Petey went he brought his foot down on Leo’s hip. Leo cried out, curling even more into himself, and Dustin pulled Petey off of him. Petey was struggling in Dustin’s arms.

“Ok, whoa. Hold on you two-” Dustin was getting ready to scold them before Petey bit down on Dustin’s arm, hard enough to bruise.

“Bro.” Dustin huffed, putting Petey into a full nelson. “What are you, a puppy? Don’t fuckin bite me. Now get inside.”

Dustin let Petey go, and they just stood there a moment. Petey wiped his eyes with the back of his good hand and turned around, heading back to his house. He needed to fix his arm anyways, he wasn’t going just because Dustin told him, no sir.

He paused at the sliding door and called back, “Leo, go home now.”

Dustin watched as he went inside before going to help Leo up. He hissed in pain as he got to his feet but he was upright.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” Dustin asked, he was a little bit in disbelief that the two were fighting seriously to begin with but the fact Leo, of all people, wasn’t hitting back shocked him.

Leo stared at him, he looked pissed but resigned. “...I didn’t want to hurt him more.”

Dustin nodded, but really only because he didn’t understand the situation. Leo nodded back and he tried to take a step back home but his hip started to give out, thankfully he was close enough to the tree he only fell on that and not all the way down. Dustin stammered, trying to help, but Leo only batted away his hands.

“Dude let me drive you home.” Dustin sounded seriously concerned

“No, I got it, I got it. I...think your mom would be mad if you wasted gas to get me over there anyways. I can walk.”

“Can you? It kinda looked like you took one step then fell over.”

“Yeah it’s fine, I just need to walk it off.”

Dustin blinked, he hadn’t heard that phrase since- well it didn’t matter he needed to help.

“I’ll walk you home then.”

Dustin helped Leo inside and onto his bed, Leo protesting that he could handle himself in his own house the entire time. Dustin helped him elevate his leg, then made sure he had everything he’d need until his dads got home before he left. Leo huffed, he didn’t need to be looked after like this, especially not after what he’d done. Oh right, Leo pulled up his phone from his pocket to write Petey his apology. He turned it on and noticed he already had a message from him.

‘dont talk to me for a while ok. i will come to you.’

Oh.

Leo stared at the screen, oh okay. He got up without thinking, but the injury to his hip reminded him quickly. He limped over to the kitchen and got some ice packs and a package of fruit snacks. He wasn’t going to make it back to his room without resting. He got himself over to his couch and curled up on it, one ice pack on his eye, one between his hip and groin. He tore open the package for his snack with his teeth and ate them one at a time, god he was tired. He fell asleep before he could finish all of them.

“HOLY SHIT.”

Leo was startled awake by the sound of his Papa cussing. He didn’t cuss unless it was a big deal. He screwed open his eyes, oh right that one was covered up. Right above him was Chomper, who was looking him over in shock. Shit, he looked really scared. Leo’s soul sunk deeper.

“What’s under the ice pack?”

“Uhhhhh, which one?”

“What do you-” Chomper looked down, “ok normally I would scold you for putting one of our good ice packs on your privates but there’s a more pressing matter.”

Eddy came up from behind him, also looking over Leo now. “Who did this to you?”

“I did.” Leo figured it wasn’t a lie since he caused it

“Oh yeah sure, you popped yourself one then decided to go ahead with all of this.” Eddy gestured vaguely.

“Oh my god is that blood?” Chomper sounded almost frantic

Goddamn it. Leo sat up slightly to see if he bled on the couch, which he did a bit, but he forgot about holding up the ice pack and it fell from his face. Eddy’s brows shot up, and Chomper let out a little gasp. Leo looked at them in confusion...wait they’d never seen him with a black eye. He ashamedly tried to cover it back up, but Chomper held his hands down so he could get a good look at it. Eddy went to go get a warm washcloth to wipe up the dried blood from Leo’s face.

“Family meeting, right now.” Eddy said upon returning, giving Leo the cloth and pulling up two chairs.

#stories #leo #chomper #petey #eddy #blood tw #violence tw #sfw

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tmntreasures · 7 years

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We have to break up... (Leonardo)

Prompt: It was an unfortunate circumstance, but it was simply inevitable. College was pricey in New York and takes a long time to complete, especially for what you wanted to go for. But there was a small glimmer of hope; there was a community college in your home town that cut the completion time in half and was still accredited.

There was just one problem: your hometown was six states away.

This unfortunately made the possibility of a long distance relationship an impossible option. Although you would be living with family, you felt like you had an obligation to contribute to the household and would be working during your summer and holiday breaks; and of course the turtles couldn't just hop on a plane to see you either, especially with your college being so far away. There wouldn't even be anytime for the two of you to communicate online either; there was the time zone difference to worry about, plus the turtle's patrols were always irregular and hard to schedule around, especially if they happened to run into a Foot patrol. Then there was the possibility of enemies finding out where you were. If they were to hack into one of your e-mails and find out where you were currently living, there would be no way the turtles could come save you. You would be putting yourself and your family in danger. There was no other option...

You had to break up.

Leonardo:

“There's just no way it could work out,” you mumbled after the two of you had weighed the options.

Leo sat there with a thoughtful look. His hands were pressed against his mouth and his eyes darted about the room, his mind clearly busy. He knew this was your passion. Anytime you worked on it during your down time he would try to watch, completely fascinated by the craft and proud of how hard you worked on it. It was clear you would put your heart and soul into every project you started, which was what he admired about you. If you were to somehow lose that spark or even grow to resent him if he convinced you to stay, then he could never forgive himself. It was one of the hardest decisions he had to make, but as a leader he did not have the luxury of being selfish. He refused to be the one to hold you back. “If this is what you really want,” Leo finally spoke. His voice was slow and serious, as if he was still trying to convince himself this was a good idea. You frowned, thinking he had more to say. “Leo, are you okay?” Your fingers grazed the textured skin of his arm. His head nodded, his eyes focused on the wall across the room. He couldn't risk looking at you yet in fear that the wrong words would leap from his mouth.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper. He turned to look at you with a small smile on his face. “If this is what you want to do, then I'm happy for you.” He nodded again, trying to convince himself it was the right thing to do. “You're going to do great.”

It was enough to deceive you at least. Relief filled your body and a weight seemed to be lifted off your shoulders. A smiled tugged at the corners of your lips as your eyes began to feel misty. “Thank you Leonardo.” You stretched and gave him a kiss on the cheek. For a moment you could have sworn he pulled away ever so slightly. The thought was quickly dismissed when his large hand patted your back. “C'mon, let's see if Donnie can stream a movie for us,” he stood quickly, but you hardly noticed.

He was handling it better than you would have expected. You thought for sure he would try to fight you on it; of course you were still grateful you didn't have to. It was a very mature decision for him to make, but perhaps that was just his years of leadership taking over. You smiled at the thought, happy that he was growing more into the role given to him. Soon you followed after him, ready to spend as much time as you could with him before the impending move. “Hey Donatello,” Leonard caught his brother's attention. “You know any good sites for streaming?” For a moment the purple-wearing turtle hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Sure Leo,” he turned back to the keyboard and in a matter of seconds had a list of movies and shows. Your eyes lit up at the number of titles that it felt overwhelming.

You winced a little and looked over at the blue-eyed turtle. “What do you wanna watch?”

His crossed arms shrugged. “Eh, you pick.”

“You sure?” Sometimes the two of you had very different tastes in movies and you wanted to make sure he would at least enjoy himself.

“Yeah. Besides, we gotta celebrate somehow right?” The smile on his face reassured you and you turned your attention back to the monitor. There was a tap at Leonardo's arm, drawing his attention away from you. Donatello gestured for him to follow as he spoke, “Hey Leo, can I talk to you for a sec about some Foot activity I found earlier?” The katana-wielding mutant nodded quickly, uncrossing his arms as he followed his brother into the other room. “What'd you find?” he asked as soon as the lean turtle stopped. “Hm? Oh nothing,” Donatello admitted. “What's wrong?” He asked quickly before his older brother and leader had a chance to speak. The question caught Leonardo off guard and his hesitation betrayed him. “Nothing's wrong Donnie. Why would you think something's wrong?” “Well, you called me 'Donatello' for starters.” Leonardo cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. He saved his brothers' full names for serious situations. Already he was doing an awful job of hiding his discomfort.

“So?�� Donatello pressed. “You wanna talk about it?”

An aggravated sigh came out of Leonardo as he leaned against the wall. Of course he did not want to talk about it; who would ever want to talk about something like this? But the cat was already out of the bag, and he would have to tell the others about it sooner or later. Better it be Donatello to know first than the other two.

He tried to paraphrase it, but unfortunately Donatello kept asking questions. He shot down every single option, reassuring his brother that the two of you had already discussed it all. In the end, the two turtles were slumped against the wall; Leonardo was seething and Donatello was still trying to think of something.

“Hmm...I could make a firewall for her computer? Make it harder for the Foot to trace anything?” The purple-clad ninja offered.

“And put family in danger instead?” Leonardo shook his head. “That's not fair, Donnie.”

The glasses on Donatello's face slid down ever so slightly when he furrowed his brow. “There has to be someway--”

“Donnie!” Leonardo's stern tone stopped him mid-thought. “It's okay,” he squeezed his brother's shoulder and forced his lips to smile.

“Hey Leo!” You called out from the other room. You had a movie picked out for a while but you did not want to disturb their conversation if it was about the Foot. However, it had been taking a long time and the brothers did have a tendency to get sidetracked. “I found a good one! You comin'?”

“One sec!” He hollered and quickly returned his attention to Donatello. “Don't try anything.”

“But Leo--”

“This is what’s best, Donatello,” He stated firmly before his eyes drifted to the floor. “I'm not gonna be the one to get in the way of their dreams.” Without another word he returned to you, looking exasperated but ready with a believable excuse. – Throughout the course of a few days, Leonardo had mastered hiding his true feelings from you. He did not want you to leave. Just imagining how empty the lair would feel without you made his gut twist and joints shiver. But the way you smiled as you recollected your childhood days in your hometown made him want you to experience it again. Guilt overwhelmed him for wanting to be selfish when you gushed in excitement after you showed him the set of classes you were scheduled to take during your first semester. It was enough for him to lie through his teeth just to make sure you wouldn't second guess yourself.

The night before you were to leave the two of you ordered your favorite pizza and watched your favorite movies in the lair. Luckily for the both of you, none of his brothers interrupted. Eventually you nodded off to slumber.

He stared at your sleeping form and left you there, wanting to keep you close for as long as possible. When the movie finally finished Leonardo knew this would be good-bye. Very carefully, he pushed your body off of his arm enough for him to stand. With one swift movement he picked you up and left the lair quietly. He was careful with how he stepped, not wanting to wake you. There was only a moment when you woke up, but it was so you could wrap your arms around his neck and hold on as he pushed open the manhole cover.

The moment the two of you were on the surface you fell right back to sleep. He was thankful for that at least; it would be easier for him to leave if you stayed asleep than to have any lingering good-byes. Soon he was at your apartment and slipped inside your room through the window for the final time. Boxes were stacked on top of one another in your once decorative room. The only thing remaining was your bed, which only had a comforter and a single pillow on it. You had packed the sheets, mattress pad, and other blankets earlier, trying to have as little last-minute packing to do as possible for the morning of.

After he had laid you down and covered you in the large blanket, he just stood in the room, staring at the blank walls and labeled boxes. He wanted to leave something, anything, of his behind in the hopes you would remember him; but it was just another thing he could not do. He knew you couldn't forget him, it would be hard to forget a giant mutant turtle after all. But he thought if he left something behind, then maybe you would abandon your school work to come back to him. As far fetched as the idea was, it was still a hope he could not afford having in his head.

Instead he simply brushed the stray hairs out of your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before leaving. The moment he entered the lair Donatello appeared out of the shadows with a sympathetic look. Leonardo stopped and stared at his brother, feeling his heart twist. All the emotions he had pushed down were about to boil over. Thankfully, Donatello was smart enough to not say a word and watched as his brother walked quietly out of the room.

Although you sent a final good-bye message the morning of your move, he did not read it. Instead, Leonardo buried his thoughts in the hours of training. When he couldn't train, he would patrol. When he couldn't patrol, he would keep himself busy with chores in the lair. When he couldn't do that, he would keep trying to convince himself he did the right thing for you. He was the leader and he had to be strong, for his family's sake and his own.

#TMNT #TMNT 2016 #LeonardoxReader #TMNTxReader #CharacterxReader

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jaskiersbard · 7 years

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Next Gen Scamander Headcanon | Linnet x Michael (with added Newt/Tina and a smidge of Jacob/Queenie)

In her first year at Hogwarts, Linnet walked into her first DADA lesson and had two choices; she could sit with a group of gigging girls who seemed friendly, or next to the Hufflepuff boy who was at the front on his own. She chose the boy; when they introduced themselves, she found out that his name was Michael Wood – she beamed and complimented him on his bag.

Michael had a crush on her from day on.

They were best friends all through their seven years at Hogwarts together, chatting and laughing and having fun; during the summer, they often visited each other. Michael, who had no brothers or sisters, found himself often thinking of the other Scamander children as being like siblings to him; he was especially fond of Wren, who was only four when he first visited the house.

Being honest, Newt and Tina saw Michael like another son a lot of the time; he was in the house or in the case a lot during the holidays, and there was an awkward shyness there that reminded Tina of her dear husband.

They remained best friends after graduating, meeting up nearly every day for lunch or something; Linnet went on to become an Auror, and Michael a Healer. He was still painfully aware that he had feelings of more than friendship for her but never said a word in case it ruined their friendship.

On a mission a few years down the line, Linnet’s team were attacked by rogue wizards working underground and she was taken hostage. They took away her wand and starved her, leaving her in a small stone cell with barely any heat or water. They beat her nearly every day, and it only continued to get worse; a week and a half after being captured, they started to take turns raping her. All she could think about was her family; when that became too painful, she found herself wishing for her best friend – she wanted to see his face, to have his company so she wasn’t alone. Photographs were taken and sent to the Ministry’s Senior Auror/Investigative Team – of which Tina and Phoenix were a part of – to taunt them.

Tina, of course, was angry and distressed and not sleeping this entire time because this was her daughter – she wanted to find Linnet and keep her safe, wanted to murder whoever had done this to her. Newt forgot his own philosophy about “worrying means you suffer twice” and worried; he paced and wrung his hands and fidgeted and found himself crying unexpectedly to his wife – he had always been especially close to Linnet, and this was torture for him of the worst kind.

Michael was absolutely distraught; despite not having any training whatsoever, he insisted on trying to help find her in whatever way he could – he went out on searches with Phoenix’s team, sat with Newt and Tina in the evenings so that they weren’t alone, consoled Wren. Not a moment passed where he didn’t worry about her and her safety, and he didn’t sleep at night.

It took them nearly an entire month to find Linnet; there was a short fight before the wizards were subdued and brought in for questioning. Linnet was rushed to St. Mungo’s immediately for treatment; Michael was there, and holding her hand, utterly relieved but also horrified at the state she’d been found in. They kept her in for a couple of weeks to monitor her healing progress and run tests; the scarring and torn tissue in certain areas confirmed the worst.

When it came to releasing her, it was decided that it would be best for her to not be alone in case of nightmares or the like – Linnet insisted that she stay with Michael, who had never left her side unless physically forced to. She trusted him with her life, she’d known him for so long, and he’s a trained Healer – if she needed any medical attention, then he would be on hand immediately. Michael agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

(She didn’t want to go with her parents – they had dealt with enough in their lives, she had decided, and her younger sister was still living at home; she didn’t want seventeen-year-old Wren, a Legilimens, seeing those images)

Healing was a long slow process, both physically and emotionally; she had nightmares every night about what had happened, reliving it, and she would wake up sobbing or close to tears; Michael would be there, wand alight, looking worried and comforting her – not as a Healer but as a friend. After a few nights, Linnet tentatively found herself asking if he could perhaps stay with her in the bed until she fell asleep. Michael, of course, hesitated at this but she convinced him to enlarge the bed so that there was more than enough space. She ended up falling asleep by his side, not touching but calmer because there was the warmth of another living person nearby and it was comforting to know that she wasn’t alone. It soon became a nightly thing – either she would wake from a nightmare and see him there or she would go to his room just to talk.

Michael still had growing feelings for her, but he was more than willing to be there as a friend – in whatever capacity she needed him, really. Because of what had happened, he found himself sick at the thought that he still fancied her because “Merlin, I can’t feel that way now because she’s been hurt badly and that’s wrong” – but he couldn’t help it, he cared about her and loved her. He was trying to help her heal but also dealing with his own misery and distress because he knew what happened, he had seen the photographs and heard the conversations about it, and it disgusted him that someone would do this to her, she didn’t deserve it.

Linnet found herself realizing after a while that she had feelings for him – but because of what had happened to her, she felt dirty, used, weak, and that he could do a lot better than someone like that. She told herself it would pass eventually, that it was just her clinging to him and blowing her emotions out of proportion.

The sleeping together didn’t exactly help either of them in regards to their conflicting feelings – of wanting something more but being fearful too. It was inevitable that it would happen some mornings: Michael would wake up, pressed against a warm body, and be horrified that his body was reacting in a certain way. When this happened, he would immediately move away from the bed to get away from her before she woke up and realized. He felt rather ashamed and angry with himself for his body betraying him like that.

Eventually Linnet was the one to admit to her feelings first – she could tell him anything, he was her best friend, and she needed to get it out in the open if nothing else. She admitted to him that she had found herself wanting more, and despite thinking he could do better…at the same time, she had found herself falling in love with him.

Michael was quiet as she talked, and when she finished he had swallowed, struggling to speak; he told her he had loved her for years, that he’d had a crush on her ever since he could remember, and it had never gone away – his feelings had simply gotten more intense. It was no longer a crush but he was in love with her too.

He asked her permission to kiss her, wary because what happened to her was always in the back of his mind, and she didn’t reply – instead she leaned forward and just did it. Nothing big or grand, just two people sharing a short, simple kiss and smiling afterwards awkwardly.

Their relationship was slow – it was slightly less awkward sharing a bed now that those feelings were out in the open, and they slept every night fully-clothed just…together.

After a few months, things got slightly out of hand – they were kissing and his hand brushed against her thigh by accident. Linnet freezed up, and then Michael had pulled away immediately because he knew something was wrong. He apologized profusely, and then she started crying because she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she was still incredibly scared because of what those men had done to her – even if Michael was different, there was still that reminder and it left her understandably frightened. He just carefully held her and listened before telling her she didn’t have to do anything she was uncomfortable with – he would never hurt her or push her, never.

It was months later that it finally happened; Michael was slow and careful, constantly reminding her “if you want to stop at any point then just say” and he let her be in control – he did whatever she said to do, to feel secure. There was no judgement in his eyes when he saw the scars left on her body (of which there were many); he just ran his fingers over them gently and said she was beautiful – and he really seemed to mean it. There was no rush, no urgency to get off: just a slow learning experience where he checked over and over again. Even when it was obvious that he was very much into the activity, he still told her she could say no and end it – but Linnet just smiled and told him she wanted it, wanted him. It was the most intimate and emotional moment because they were connected so intimately and he was in awe of her – there was no moving at first, just the two of them and soft whispers.

Afterwards, Michael had embraced her and continued to whisper adorations into her skin because he loved her; he loved her so much, and he would never hurt her so long as he lived. Linnet was crying but it was tears of joy and happiness and love.

A year later he asked her to marry him because she was the only one for him, that we would love and respect her; Linnet didn’t hesitate in her answer at all.

Newt cried at the wedding, both giving her away and while watching the ceremony; Tina was there trying to hide her own tears at Michael’s vows, and they were holding hands as they watched their daughter get married. Phoenix looked very emotional, even with a bouncing baby on his lap, and Leo was grinning from ear-to-ear. Wren was a bridesmaid, of course, and had tears streaming down her face. Before the ceremony she had taken her sister’s arm and winked: “he’s a good one, Lin.”

The Kowalskis were also in attendance too. Jacob made the best damn cake ever for them (he makes cakes for all the weddings in the family, let’s be real), every bit of icing immaculate and perfect; Queenie was sitting in the audience, holding his arm and they shared a lot of loving looks – even as they got older, they were a passionate couple. The female Kowalski cousins – Daisy, Ruth, Lucy and Penny – were also bridesmaids, of course, and the male Kowalski cousins – Toby, Abel and Elijah – were either cheering and clapping or beaming ear-to-ear.

And then there was Michael and Linnet themselves. Michael felt like the luckiest man alive, standing up there – it was the best day of his life without question. He told her that he’s enamoured by her, enraptured, and she’s the only girl he had ever loved. He was so happy that his heart could burst. Linnet was trying not to cry because of her make-up but there were tears escaping anyway – lots of tearful laughter and giggles before they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

The Niffler made an appearance, of course, let’s be realistic here: Newt just glared at him through his tears like “NO, get back in the case, you are NOT ruining this day” but Linnet picked Niff up and cuddled him – when no one was looking, she sneakily gave him a bunch of coins to keep him happy.

(Of course Tina saw and she just rolled her eyes – her family is incorrigible, the lot of them, but she loves them anyway)

Michael took Wren by the hand during the reception afterwards and they started dancing, much to everyone’s amusement; her own boyfriend/future husband, Jack was watching and chuckling. Linnet joined in during the next song and it was so much fun.

There were still nights where Linnet was plagued by nightmares, but Michael was always there, without fail, to comfort and reassure her. She felt safe with him, a calmness.

They were blessed three years later with a son who they called Lynx. Newt and Tina were only too overjoyed to have another grandchild (even if they didn’t quite feel that old yet – they’re the spritely kind of grandparents). Wren was godmother, of course.

#headcanon #linnet scamander #Michael wood #linnet x michael #tw: mentions of rape #fanfiction #writing #newtina #jakweenie #lynx scamander #fantastic beasts and where to find them #Scamander children #Scamander family #Michael x linnet

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hepaidattention · 7 years

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Remembering Back

For that little spark of hope that you know is dead but you still can’t help but hope anyway...

Characters: Fitz and Simmons

Setting: Framework

Jemma rushed down the hall, avoiding all security guards. Since she was basically the walking dead in the Framework, she figured it would end very badly if she was caught and then ID’d. Taking another glance behind her down the hall, she suddenly found herself running into something hard in front of her, recoiling her back. She shook her head, her eyes seeing the ground. Those shoes.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the voice resonated in her ears. “Not really paying attention, am I?”

It was him. It was him. Oh god, finally, it was him! Jemma jerked up her head, a grin covering her face. “Fitz,” she said in a soft breath.

Fitz just stared at her. However, much to her surprise, the stare wasn’t a blank slate of ‘do I know you?’ In the Framework they had never met, ever. Yet, the way he was looking at her, it was like he knew her.

“S… Simmons?”

Jemma let out a chuckle of awe and of the humor in him calling her Simmons. Somewhere along the lines of their relationship Jemma was called her first name by Fitz than ever Simmons. She didn’t know what to say, but the way he was looking at her, she decided to hug him. She flew her arms around his neck, holding onto him with dear life. They had been torn apart again, and this was about the time for her to refuse to ever let go.

Fitz was unresponsive at first, but then, slowly, his arms tightened around her until he was hugging her tighter than she was hugging him. She buried her face into his neck, smiling to herself. Finally, she said, “God I missed you.”

She felt a tear from him running down her neck as he held onto her with a death grip. She had a feeling he still didn’t fully remember her, but the way he was holding her, he was thinking the same. He was never letting go again.

But as fate may have it, Jemma’s phone buzzed in her front pocket. This causing an odd sensation for both of them, they pulled apart. Jemma looked at her phone to see Daisy texting her: she found him.

“Um,” Fitz mumbled to her. She looked up, seeing his teary eyes. His mouth was open to say something, but instead he took her hand and led her away from the public hallway. She had no idea where they were going, and she really knew she probably shouldn’t trust this Fitz – she had no idea what Aida had programmed him as. No matter what though, this wasn’t the Android-Fitz. This was Fitz, her Fitz, just with completely different memories.

After going up some stairs they seemed to stop and stay stopped in some sort of closed off meeting room. It actually resembled the SHIELD base, oddly enough.

“How…” Fitz started, scratching the back of his head as he just gazed at her. “Do I know you?”

Jemma laughed. If he hadn’t said her name and hugged her like he did, then she’d probably be devastated right now. But she knew, this was Fitz trying to understand the impossible.

“You certainly seem to.”

Fitz stared as he tightly crossed his arms across his chest. Jemma smiled. She had missed him so much, even his mannerisms were bringing a smile to her face. At last he spoke. “I’ve never met you before in my life.” He stated. “But … when I look at you…” He sighed, trying to wrap his mind around it. “It’s like memories of something that’s never happened come to mind.”

Jemma nodded. “It’s Radcliffe’s programming. I’m not a part of this world, I’m supposed to be dead. Because of that I’m almost acting as a virus…” Jemma said that more to herself than to Fitz. He was looking at her like she was insane. “Would you believe me if I said you were in a world created by a computer, and everything that’s happening isn’t physically real, but in our heads?”

Fitz scoffed. “No.” Jemma sighed. How could she convince him? “At least, normally.” He added. “But, considering the moment I saw you I had at least ten different memories of you swimming through my head, all of which had never happened to me, then, yeah.” He let out a short exhale. “Maybe.”

A smile crept up on her face. “I’m Jemma Simmons, and, well I’m your girlfriend. In real life, that is.”

Fitz paused.

�� “Yeah, well, my dad calls me Leo. Never really liked it much.”

“Well, then it’s nice to meet you, Fitz. I’m –”

“Simmons, I know.”

She smiled at him. “That’s my last name. My first name is Jemma.”

“Oh, sorry –”

“No, actually, its fine. ‘Simmons’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He blinked, seeing Jemma staring at him with a worried expression. “Fitz? Are you okay?”

“Fitz, thank god you’re okay! You couldn’ve been killed! Or worse!”

Fitz chuckled a little. “What could be worse than being killed?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Being stranded on a desert planet, or dying and being turned into a walking parasite? Or even -”

“All right, all right, I’m fine, okay? Nothing happened. Didn’t even get a scratch.”

She sighed, embracing him in a hug. “Don’t ever do that again. Please.”

“Fitz?” Jemma voiced, stepping closer to him.

“Fitz!?”

“Jemma!”

Their hands met, their fingers curling around each other just so they can hold on.

“Fi-”

“Stop - just stop talking. Please.” Fitz let out a graveled breath, his breathing heavy. “Every time you speak, some brand new, yet seemingly old memory comes to me.” He rubbed his temple, his brows furrowed. “I’m getting a bloody headache.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m so sorry, Fitz.”

“For what?”

“For leaving you.”

Fitz shook his head, grabbing her hand in comfort. “No, you couldn’t help it. I know you didn’t want to be stuck on that planet any more than I wanted you back –”

“Not the planet, Fitz. Before that. What’s worse was me deceiving you on why I left – I should’ve told you-”

“Jemma,” he gave her hand a squeeze, smiling at her. “All that matters is you’re here now, safe, healthy, and … with me.”

Jemma gave him a loving smile.

“Oh, I did it again, didn’t I? Lord, I’m so sorry-”

Fitz groaned. “It’s fine. I just need to get used to a migraine for now on.”

“No, Fitz,” she stepped up close enough to him now that she could reach for his hand. She gripped his palm, dozens of memories of them holding hands flashing across his mind. “We can get out of here. I came here so I could get us out, back to reality. Back home where we’re working on an apartment together, and where we work at the lab together, side by side, every day.”

“Every minute of every day we’ve been beside each other. At the Academy, at Sci-Ops, this plane. You’ve been beside me the whole damn time!”

Fitz looked up from their hands, his eyes finding hers. He watched her, searching her eyes for something. “If this is all in my head, then how do I know you’re not just my minds way of trying to just snap me out of it?”

Jemma shrugged. “Well, I guess you don’t. But no matter what, you can be comforted to know you’re still trying to get out of this prison, of sorts.”

“How do I know you don’t really exist, outside of this world? How do I know this life isn’t better than the one you claim we have?”

Jemma took in a deep inhale, intently looking at their intertwined hands. She finally looked up, meeting his eyes again. “You once told me that you couldn’t live in a world without me in it.”

“Fitz, please. Just let them kill me.”

“No, I won’t. I can’t do that. I’m just … I’m just not strong enough to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”

“I always knew that was an exaggeration, because – well you, you have always been so strong. You always looked ahead, looked at the future. You never let anything bother you ‘till the point that it made you break. But me? I knew I couldn’t – I can’t. I had been stuck on a desolate planet for hardly even a month and contemplated letting myself die, or doing it myself, so it would be quick. I was never as strong as you – and honestly, Fitz, now that we’ve been together for so long, I don’t think I could be able to live without you. Not again.” Tears streamed down her face. Fitz reached up with his free hand and used the back of his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears from her cheeks. “Please,” she begged him, catching his other hand in hers. “Just trust me, and let me bring you home.”

All Fitz could see now was a memory of Jemma looking up at him, tears pooling her eyes, him tucking her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Come back to me.”

He decided to speak. “You’re wrong.” Jemma looked at him hurt and confused, her eyes darting back and forth, trying to read him. He shook his head and said, “There’s no way in hell I could live without you.”

Jemma let out a scoffing laugh, a watery smile covering her face. “You technically already did.” She said with a smirk, gesturing around the room.

“Doesn’t count.” He smiled at her. “’You don’t know what you’re missing until you find it,’ or something like that?”

Jemma smiled back and embraced him again, this time firmly enveloping her arms around his rib cage and laying her face on his shoulder. He bound his arms around her, resting his head on hers. But then, reality hit Fitz again. He didn’t even know this person – yet, he loved her?

Jemma looked up at him, almost as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Without any words spoken, she reached up her hand, her fingers running through his hair on the back of his head. She eyed his lips, but she didn’t make another move. It was like she was waiting for him to take the lead.

“And you drove through a hole in the universe for me!”

He blinked, gazing at her. He couldn’t believe half of the memories that bled through his mind, but on top of that, he could barely comprehend the emotions that came alongside them.

“Do you think that you can brave it?”

“I’ll do my best to power through.”

Fitz leaned in, closing the gap between them. His lips met hers, and the moment they collided a thousand memories flooded his mind. The overwhelming deluge of emotions just made him want to kiss her all the more. He enfolded his arms around her waist, drawing her as close to him as he possibly could. –

Fitz eyelids jolted open, a deep gasp coming from his mouth. His blurred vision could see very little, but the longer he tried, the longer he could make out his surroundings. He was… hooked up to something? Trying to move his hands around, his muscles weak from lack of use, he turned his head to see Coulson, Mack, and May all lined up on his right. All asleep. All hooked up to –

They were hooked up to the Framework. He lifted his head, seeing the empty room. All he could remember was being on a mission, trying to find Radcliffe. He was collecting old computer parts and …. Then he saw Aida. Aida did this. He looked to his left, expecting to see –

Simmons. Where’s Jemma? No, no, no, no, this was not good. If Jemma wasn’t hooked up, then did that mean she was-? No, don’t think that way, Fitz. Jemma’s fine. She was just smart enough to avoid Aida’s capture.

Then, like a ton of bricks, the memory of the Framework loaded on Fitz’ brain.

Jemma.

Fitz heard footsteps, assuming them to be Aida’s he laid back his head and closed his eyes. Last thing he needed was for Aida to find out Jemma had broken Fitz’ programing. The longer he kept his eyes closed, the heavier his eyelids became. Then, without being able to distinguish when or how, he was sitting in front of Jemma again.

“Fitz?” She practically shouted, her hands on his cheeks.

He blinked at her, letting out a breath. “Jemma?”

She beamed at him, relieved. “Thank god.” Her body eased. “I thought Aida had shut you off or something.”

Fitz smiled at her. He then looked down at his hands. “It feels exactly like my work – only, does it feel even more real to you? Almost, too real?”

Jemma was in awe. “You remember.”

“Yeah. You should be proud.” He grinned back. “You just broke Aida’s programming.”

She laughed, out of excitement. “Fitz!” She squeezed his arm, standing up. “We’re going to win this.”

Fitz stood up with her. “But where are you? I woke up for a minute there, in reality, and-”

“You did what? Did you see anyone? Did you see Aida?”

“No, but I think I heard her. But Coulson, Mack, and May are all there. But you – you weren’t. And yet somehow you’re in front of me.”

Simmons sighed. “It’s a long story. But basically, Daisy and I hacked in to save you guys.”

Fitz nodded. “Where’s Daisy then?”

She smirked. “How would you like to see an old friend?”

Fitz eyed her. “Who?”

“Eh, he’s British, wears a beard, loves beer. Called himself a Mercenary. Ring any bells?”

Fitz’ eyes widened. “Hunter?”

#fitzsimmons #fitz and simmons #agents of shield #framework #jemma and fitz in the framework #fanfiction #romance #they love each other so much why can't the writers just leave them alone #this is basically just my dreams for when they see each other #renew agents of shield #aos

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Pt. 7 "Hospital Bed"

CW: injury description, drug/alcohol mention (explicit), food mention, noncon/dubcon (explicit), aftermath of character death, strangling, character death, hospital setting, blood mention, bondage, emotional whump, gaslighting, August in general, tourettes/ticcing (let me know if I missed anything!)

"I don't know how you stayed sane," Tyson said, hands tight around his coffee mug as if letting go would make him fall apart. The drink inside had long turned cold and probably didn't taste good anymore, but Tyson couldn't will himself to lift the cup for long enough to drink. "I mean, it's only been a week and I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Leo sighed at the heaviness to Tyson's voice, nodding his head. "I didn't stay sane. It broke me down every single day that he was gone. It's still breaking me, but at least he's here." He paused, realizing that might not be very encouraging. "But it'll be ok. We'll find him, we'll have him home and safe in no time."

"I really hope you're right." He checked his phone nervously, disappointed but not surprised to see no updates, no one had called him. It was tiring, to keep checking and double checking and never having any good news.

He couldn't stop thinking of the picture he'd been spent at the beginning of the week, the one of Elias with his eyes closed, blood streaming down his face. He was pale and tired looking, and Tyson couldn't help but wonder if he was dead in the picture. His perfect Elias, who was confident and unapologetically himself, who was so amused by everything, who could simply sit with Tyson for hours on end to talk and watch him draw and listen to his music. He couldn't imagine how August must be breaking all of that if he was still alive. He remembered how different Allen was when he finally came back, how he was just a shell for the longest time, and even now he wasn't completely right again. Elias was so young and vulnerable, he wouldn't come out of it the same, there was no chance.

"Am I bad person because I sort of hope he's dead?" He whispered. The words were bitter in his mouth, he hated himself for saying them out loud. "I just...I don't want him to experience all this pain. It's gonna fuck him up for life, just like Allen. What if neither of them get better?"

"Don't say that, Tyson. He's gonna make it out of this and they will heal." He patted Tyson's shoulder to comfort him, frowning at how tense he was. He stood up, working his hands into his shoulders to try and get him to relax.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled.

"I just remember how much I wished someone would comfort me. I'm trying to comfort you." He smiled a little as Tyson relaxed against him a fraction. "There you go. It's all gonna be ok, Ty."

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

Elias found some sick type of adoration for his life now. The speed of it all, the way everything was blurred together by music and colors and sex and violence. August had introduced him to so much: he gave him different drugs that each felt like spiritual awakenings in their own respects, put him through levels of pain that he didn't think were possible to feel, intoxicated, hazy sex that was so good it felt otherworldly. He tried not to think about the fear or the punishment anymore, tried to convince himself that it was just his nature now, his way of life. As long as he was fucked up, he felt perfect. As long as he was high, he wasn't thinking of the blown up face of that man.

"Elias," August was calling in a sing sing voice, "Eli, are you in there?"

Elias looked up at him, grinning at the look on his face. He had forgotten that he had a bowl of watermelon sitting in front of him until August pushed it toward him.

"You doing ok? You begged for this fruit and you haven't even touched it." He rubbed his back as he spoke, his palm was warm as it dragged up and down Elias's spine. His lungs tightened ever so slightly when he brushed over the bruise taking up a third of his back, the one he got when August had tossed him angrily against the shelf when he tried to leave.

Elias laughed, nodding his head. "I forgot," he giggled. He picked up a piece, looking at the juice dripping down the tips of his fingers. He was suddenly enthralled, the red was such a beautiful shade and the sunshine made it glimmer. He remembered watching August cutting up the fruit inside, watched his hand guide the knife easily through the melon, the red juice staining his hands. He realized that usually he was the fruit, and he momentarily understood the appeal of hurting him August had. He heard August laughing again, and he smiled up at him.

"You're too cute," August kissed him, holding him close. "My little angel."

Elias dropped the watermelon and crawled on top of August in his sun chair, pressing himself close. He looked into his eyes, laughing at huge his pupils were. His were probably the same. "You make me feel whole," he whispered, "like I'm all put together." He didn't really believe himself when he said it, he knew it was just because he was high and August was there and paying attention to him, and he knew August liked it when he said things like that.

August smirked, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Yeah, you didn't need Tyson after all, did you?"

"Fuck Tyson," Elias ticced, laughing after. "No, I didn't. Just you." Just you, all the drugs you keep giving me, and a week straight of you beating the shit out of me. But just you.

August nodded, pulling Elias towards him with his fingers wrapped loosely around his neck, kissing him again. He smiled as Elias pressed his hips against him, already knowing where the kiss was probably going, eager to get it started already. August had broken him, finally, and made him dependent on physical touch to assure himself he was doing ok. Even when it was painful, he was always offering himself up because being used painfully was far better than being punished.

"Aren't you eager?" He teased, running his palm down his chest. "God I just wanna lay you down in front of me and make you scream."

"Oh, please, August."

That was another thing he'd taught him, the begging, even when it was for pain. Anything to be touched, looked at, praised, he would beg for anything that August insinuated he wanted, just to please him, just to make everything easier.

He hadn't lied when he said he wanted to make Elias scream, but it wasn't in the way he had expected. It turns out that being tied to the bed and having a tiny razor slice long, stinging slices into his skin was not as enjoyable as August had made it seem. But he was writhing and shrieking in pain the entire time, which prompted August to coo: "you sound so beautiful, my bunny," and kiss around the blood to turn the cries into soft whines.

"P...please, August," he gasped, tipping his head back in exhaustion. "It hurts so bad, it's tiring me out." He convulsed as August cut into him again, this time slowly down the side of his ribs, drawing out a slow, building scream of agony, muffled slightly as he bit down hard.

"Oh come on baby, don't try to quiet yourself. Really tell me how much it hurts." He sliced into the other side of his ribs, grinning at the loud, breathless cry that Elias let out. "There you go, perfect."

Elias collapsed again, his lungs quaking as he tried to breath through the pain. "Ha...god, please stop. Please, I'm feeling sick." August smiled, kissing the insides of Elias's thighs until his breathing was less ragged and he hummed in relief. "Thank you, oh thank you."

August pulled off of him, reaching for his phone next to him. "You are just angelic." He started to film him, smiling as he squinted at the flash. "So beautiful my love." Elias offered an exasperated smile, closing his eyes. He flinched as August started to drag the razor from his collar bone and down his sternum, and then began to scream again. He grabbed at the two belts that were securing him to the bed and writhed underneath August. He could feel his blood streaming down his torso, and when he got up the courage to glance up at the carnage, he felt weak and light headed. The screaming turned into panicked sobs, and he jerked harder, with more need, causing the razor to press deeper into him.

"August ple-ease!" He sobbed, trying to hide his face against the pillow. "Please it hurts! No more!"

"Alright, alright," he sighed, setting down his phone and the razor. The phone was still recording, but August doubted that Elias realized, in his state. He crawled on top of Elias, pressing his own bare torso against Elias's bloody one, making him whimper at the stinging it caused.

"Ow...August that...ow..."

August grinned, kissing his neck softly. "I just want to be close to you, sweetheart." He spoke against his skin, then hummed as he pushed into Elias.

"Oh god," Elias sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut. He was scared all over again, because of the blood and the way August spoke when he was on top of him. "F-fuck..."

"Ah, that's my good boy," August moaned, tugging at his hair. "So pretty for me."

"Please, not so ha-hard," he begged, pulling at the restraints, "please baby, please."

August grinned, doing completely the opposite and adoring the way his exasperated whimpers turned to pained, confused moans, especially when he closed his teeth around his throat.

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

"Oh god," Tyson cried, staring at the gruesome video playing on his phone in horror. "What the fuck! He's hurting him!" Leo ripped his phone away from him, instructing for Allen to get him out.

Leo couldn't help but keep the video playing, watching with a deep concern etched into his face. It was like watching a car accident unfold, or a funeral procession; he wanted to look away because what he was looking at was dreadful, but he almost felt like he had to watch it all unfold. It was horrendous, the amount of blood on them both, the way Elias pulled desperately at the belts wrapped tightly around his wrists, the way he screamed in pure, white hot, pain. He was so broken, so far gone. Allen was broken like this, just not so soon. Not after a week.

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

When August was done, he untied Elias, pulling him into his arms. They were both covered in his blood, and Elias was shaking as he pressed his hand against August's chest, frowning when it came away red. "Jesus," he whimpered, "that's a lot of blood."

"You're ok," August assured him, kissing his tears away, "just a bunch of little scratches. We'll get you cleaned up as soon as you calm down, ok?"

Elias took a deep breath, trying to sooth himself. He was starting to get used to this, trying to relax after everything happened. He collapsed against August's chest, closing his eyes and counting to ten in his head. He was ok, he had survived, it was just a bit of pain.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I feel so much better."

"Yeah? That's a good boy." He looked at him, grinning at his exhausted, darkened eyes. "So beautiful."

Elias smiled back at him, leaning closer to him. "You're so perfect to me," he kissed his shoulder, but his voice was shaking as he spoke. He was still scared, despite how desperately he wanted to pretend to not be. "Can we...can we go get a drink?" He whispered.

August nodded, helping him up to his feet. Elias staggered a little, he was used to it at this point, the not being able to walk part of the pain. This time it was spiced up with the added dizziness of blood loss, and he clutched onto August's arm to steady himself.

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

The days began to blur together, and Elias seemed to be on the brink of death. He was pale and covered in injuries, dangerously thin because of all the drugs making him lose his appetite. He couldn't feel it, of course, unless he was sobering up, so he just never sobered up. He wasn't afraid of dying anymore, all the drugs he'd done made him feel at peace with his fate. Besides, he was so tired out, so exhausted from August that death seemed welcoming. He started using more, started egging August on during his punishments, hoping that one day August would go overboard and it would all finally be over. If he wasn't going to be saved, he was going to escape another way.

Now, August was observing Elias cut his coke into huge, thick lines, sighing a little. He'd been doing this too often, pushing himself to do more than both of them knew he could endure. He'd been drinking until he was on the bathroom floor, vomiting what little he had inside of him, he'd do line after line until he broke down in a panic, everything August offered him he'd take and then triple it, and every time it ended in a mess.

"That's too much, sweetheart. Pace yourself." His voice was warning, stern in a way that wasn't immediately threatening.

Elias laughed at him halfheartedly, giving a dismissive shake of his head. "You're too much," he teased, looking up at him with a cocky smile, "I can handle it," and he did the line. And then he did another, and then he collapsed into August's chest with a fit of laughter and sighs.

"I told you not to speak to me like that," August grumbled, at which Elias sat up and turned to look at him. There was a small glint of fear in his eyes when August's voice hardened. It only lasted a second, though, before he bit his lip to stop the amused smile that was spreading across his face. "You'd do well to check yourself."

Elias laughed, running a hand through Augusts hair, like he couldn't be bothered to take him seriously. August glared openly at him, waiting for him to apologize, to stop holding eye contact with him as if they were equals.

"You'd do well to fuck yourself." He retorted. His voice was airy and light, he really wasn't scared anymore. August would fix that, he could make him scared.

With one quick movement, he grabbed Elias's hair and slammed his face down on the table, pulling him upright to see the blood already spreading across his face from his nose. After the initial shock, Elias ignored the tears streaming down his cheeks and forced out a watery laugh. "Ouch," he chuckled weakly, "that hurts a little, you should be careful."

August pulled him to his feet, which he was surprised to find no resistance, and threw him hard to the floor, watching as he hit the corner of the wall. "Shut the fuck up, Eli. Before I make you shut the fuck up."

Elias groaned on the floor, trying to push himself upright. He only got as far as his knees before he had to lean against the wall for support. It took him a few seconds to catch his breath, having it knocked out of him when he hit the wall. "Why are you so grumpy?" He coughed out. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

August grabbed him and picked him up, choking him hard as he held him against the wall. "You think you're so cute, huh? Well you're not, you're fucking stupid. You're a fucking freak. That's why Tyson didn't want you, cause who would want an idiot like you?"

Elias pulled at his arms desperately, then reminded himself that this was what he wanted, to push him far enough to kill him. He dropped his hands down to his sides, trying to will himself to not struggle. The world would swallow him up soon and he would give himself up to the black. He could finally rest, he would be free. The longer August strangled him, the more disoriented he became, his thoughts stopped making sense, they were confusing and panicked, and he could see black splotches across his vision. He saw August's angry face, he felt relieved he wouldn't ever see it again, although he did hate that it would be the last thing he did see. Ever. So instead, he directed his vision to the widow behind him, where he could see the pool and the sun, and relaxed a little again. The sun would be setting soon, the day would end and so would Elias. As his vision was quickly sinking to darkness, he felt a blanket of warmth and comfort wrap around him.

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

"Elias, there you are!" Elias's eyes flew open, and Tyson was there in front of him. He was wearing all black, his tie red. He looked so beautiful, so happy to see Elias. "I've been waiting for you!"

Elias smiled brightly at him, a weight lifted off his soul that he was unaware he was carrying. He wasn't tired anymore, he felt completely new. When he looked down, he was saw he was standing in green grass, his shoes and pants white. "I'm...I'm dead, right?" He asked.

Tyson smiled sadly at him, nodding solemnly. Elias thought maybe he would be scared when he was sure he was really dead, but all he felt was a peaceful indifference. So that was it, he got what he wanted, he was away from August. He didn't understand why Tyson was here, but it was nice to see a familiar face.

"I know you did this on purpose, but it's not time for you yet."

"What? No, I want this. I'm so tired, Ty."

"I know you are. But it's not over for you. You're gonna be ok."

Elias began to cry, utter defeat and exhaustion dragging his body down, and he was sobbing so hard his chest hurt. Each cry was a jolt to his lungs, and then a sharp sting in his entire chest, and then he was staring at the ceiling in a bright white room. He gasped in a deep breath, then a few more. He heard the faint sound of people talking around him, but it was all muddled by a ringing in his ears.

He looked around to see a swarm of people in blue and red moving around him, holding cold things to him, shining lights in his eyes. "Where...what happened?" He rasped out. One of the people stabbed something into his arm, then leaned closer to him.

"You're in the hospital, we had to resuscitate you." One of the others announced something to the room, "stable", and the rest of them relaxed and slowly dispersed. "Can you tell me your name?"

"My name... it's Elias." He couldn't speak loudly, it only came out in hoarse whimpers. The shock of it wore off and his body was starting to hurt again, his neck was aching and his entire body was throbbing dully. He remembered all at once what happened, and he could hear the heart rate monitor he was apparently hooked up to start beeping rapidly at the anxiety the memory brought up.

"Ok, Elias. Do you know what day it is?"

Elias frowned at her, shaking his head. How long had he been with August? It could've been years, could have been days, hard to tell how much time was passing when he was always high.

"That's ok," she assured him. "You were listed as a missing person, did you know that?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah...yeah I was missing."

"Right. We went ahead and notified your emergency contact, the one that filed the missing report. Tyson. Do you know who that is?"

His jaw dropped in surprise, he gaped up at her. Tyson didn't file him as missing, he was the one who got rid of him in the first place. She had to be lying, Tyson didn't care about him. "Is he...Is he gonna come here?" He whispered.

"He should be here any minute. I'm going to be monitoring you, I'll be standing right outside. There's also a police officer right out here, you're safe now."

Elias's eyes welled up with tears, he was overwhelmed suddenly. He was safe, it was over now. And Tyson was coming. He couldn't believe, didn't even know if he wanted to see him, but it was Tyson and he was going to come see him. He curled up into a small ball on the bed, crying softly to himself as he waited.

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