#thewhumpstuff

[pretty-face-breaker]

post-torture cuddles? :3

CW. creepy comfort, masochism, unhealthy relationships

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Hayko watches the smattering of cast-off bloodstains on the sheets. Glossy, an hour ago, and now dried flat and dull to the cotton. There’s a ringing in his head, hurting with each pulse. He doesn’t respond - the words didn't quite make it through.  

Nick kneels behind him and kneads his shoulders, almost gently. It’s the feeling of his nose in his hair that jerks him out of the reverie. He tenses, sucks in a breath, and blinks away the sting in his eyes.

“Are you back with me again?”

“Partially,” Hayko says, throat raw. He can’t stop the whine when Nick cuts his wrists free from the ropes with a few sharp tugs of his folding knife. Realizes, immediately after, that he didn’t hear him pull it out.

A puff of laughter against his neck, then. “Back in your skin?” 

He’d be lying if he repeated himself. He was. When the pain was a punishing, pulsing thing. Now, with it gone, he’s untethered again. The light cascading in from the window is too bright, the carpet springy and rough. It’s too much. 

“Hey, now.” Nick taps him twice on his cheek, just on the edge of too rough. “I didn’t whip the wits out of you, did I?” 

 “Hardly.” In different circumstances, he might have laughed. “If you did, wouldn’t be much left of me, at this point.”

Nick’s smile comes sharp against his head, an eyetooth pressing into his scalp. He rubs away the chaffing on Hayko’s wrists, sitting limp on the mattress. It’s a mean thing. They’re bantering. Bantering after he just consented to being beat out of orbit for-

For his-

“Is there something you’d like?”

“Just-” His voice chips and self-loathing fills it. “Just stay for a few minutes. Just-”

Nick hushes him, so gently his eyes sting again. Hayko’s throat tightens as the ministrations move to his hair and Nick smooths out the snarls. A few beats of that and he’s pulling him back against his chest. Hayko lets himself fall and hisses, when his shirt catches on the welts. 

“Have I ever left you like this?” 

Hayko swallows, a fervid when haven't you? tucked behind his teeth. But he knows what Nick is referring to, and no, technically, he’s never left him after this. Something decidedly not safe or sane but asked for, all the same. 

He must drift for a minute because when he opens his eyes again, he’s draped over Nick’s chest on the bed, half-wrapped in a towel. He foggily registers a hand smoothing gel over his skin, the other playing along his ribs. 

“You’re running out of time, you know.” 

The hands stop. Nick’s heartbeat is steady beneath his ear, unyielding in a way that seems to disagree with that. Hayko stops himself from flinching when he speaks again.

“Don’t worry about me, dear.” 

He takes the press of lips to his scalp with little more than an aborted breath before Nick gives his ribs a squeeze. Presses into the welts hard enough to startle a full gasp out of him. He’s afraid he might not stop his probing, might just sink his claws clean through his back and into his lungs- 

“Oh. Please-...” 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Nick’s voice is gnarled with a grin. 

His next breath whistles from his teeth. It fucking hurts. It hurts like nothing. It's so good. “Yes. Yes.” 

And then, nothing. His fingers are gone, leaving him panting and arching up. Bastard, he wants to say, as Nick pulls them through his hair, smearing blood through his curls. Within a second, he’s back to rubbing aloe cream on his back. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Nick says. “After they run out of time, it’ll just be us. No distractions, hm?”

-

@doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp @redwingedwhump @nicolepascaline @ifbtnna @oh-so-skeletal @whumperfully​​ ​@brittaunfiltered09

[sableflynn]

Sable! Do you have a particular moment or a turning point you recognize, when you decided or were hit with 'fck it, I'm going in?' Essentially something that made you get over any and all things/perceptions/fears/anxieties/hate etc etc that may have been tying down your wonderful butterflies? So that you could just let us have all the indulgent content that you have been writing and sharing? Asking for... a friend. ;) [Eeloo] <3

hi cutie!! so i guess the path i took with creating stuff was like. for the longest time, basically my entire life starting from preschool, i have fallen asleep to sort of whumpy fantasies. i think a lot of people in the community had a similar experience! and it used to be fandom characters and then as i got a little older it became a set of ocs i inserted all the whump onto. it was something i kept 100% to myself and allowed myself to be totally self-indulgent with...and then october 2019 i found “my name is human” by @whump-tr0pes and her entire story of “woman gets kidnapped and tortured and rescued dramatically at the last second” that was EXACTLY what i was about, and she mentioned in her notes that david and nia were characters she used to “explore some whumpy tropes and feelings” and i kind of had this lightbulb moment of, wait there’s an audience for this sort of thing?? and so inspired by her i made this account, fully intending to just write my own self indulgent nonsense and not care what anyone else thought...but then i started diving deeper into the whump community and started getting that “ok but what they’re doing is ok but i’m the real weirdo” (mainly wrt lady whump and nsfw whump) and so i started to feel self conscious again...but then i made friends gdi but they’re wonderful lovely friends who i can say “what if...manhandling” and they’re all like HELL YEAH!!! anyway i’m grateful that athena’s stuff was the first i found bc it was lady whump and nsfw and helped me feel less self-conscious about those particular things. idk what the point of this ramble was and i don’t have a particular answer for you other than that everyone who has written something before me is a trailblazer who helped me feel a little more confident posting my own work, and every bit of encouragement and cheerleading and kind kind feedback i get makes my life!

[straight-to-the-pain]

Yo! Do they have a more 'active' part to the Resistance to Interrogation program that Sam and John teach? If they do, would you ever consider or be willing to write (an equally indulgent) 'training torture/interrogation' session that either Sam or John are running/overseeing? [I'm not looking for any realistic depiction/representation tbh, I just like the idea of 'torture training'] ALSO, when will we get the results for the whump survey?!?! (I must know!)

Yes, so as John implies at the end of his lecture, there is going to be a practical component where his students are effectively mock kidnapped and tortured but he doesn’t run that part because they already know him and it’s better for it to be someone new and unfamiliar. They know it’s going to happen but they don’t know when or how so I think it’s probably some routine exercise that ends up with a captivity situation so they are sort of expecting it but they are never quite prepared for it.

Now, they do make John watch the tapes of his trainees being tortured so there’s that! I was actually planning on writing something where he doesn’t really know Sam very well yet and they’re a newbie being mock tortured as training or as a kind of job interview but I’m not sure if they actively know that they’re being interviewed because they sort of applied for a government job without realising that they were being selected for a covert spy agency.

Regarding the whump survey, I wanted to see if I could get 1000 replies before closing it but I’ve also just been very busy with my new job so it might take some time. Whatever happens, the data isn’t lost and I will try to publish it in an anonymised, general way but I don’t want to publish people’s exact responses to open ended questions because that feels too personal to just be putting out there online so I’m going to try to summarise some of the main views and comments for the long answer questions. This will take time but I hope that people can respect my attempts to maintain people’s integrity and privacy (yes I did just have data protection training aha).

[abouttemperedgrace]

Akira Shastri | History

So, to continue the daily streak, I shall share Akira's history! I'm actually working on the project actively now - trying to keep up with April nanowrimo. Will share WIP snippets on this blog and maybe whumpy WIP snippets (probably more gratuitous on the whumpy front) on thewhumpstuff blog. Here is Aki history below the cut - It mentions other characters who will get their own posts later. [And as usual, I'm not working too hard to edit this stuff, just throwing it out there so it can anchor the upcoming content's drafts.]

She was born to Ehsaan Shastri and Maan Shastri. Ehsaan worked for the fuel and forest preservationist company run by G.C (Auriga) in Sector 09 and he was a bit of a misogynist, so he didn't really want Maan to be working. Maan had the qualifications to work as a journalist (Caelum). When Maan is pregnant with Aki, Ehsaan falls very very sick, and to get him treatment, Maan is co-coerced into joining a genetic enhancement study, which is how Akira-embryo ends up a specific genetic boost and that’s what gets her her ancient-lost-telepathic-empathy-powers. The study is abruptly closed down, so Maan is just stuck with this powered child.

Ehsaan was a mean drunk and had anger issues. There are multiple situations of mild physical violence against Maan, even after Aki is born. So, she decides to leave him when Aki is five. They move to Aki's maternal grandparents (Jeet and Guru Shastri - yes it was an odd coincidence that her family name on her maternal and paternal side was the same, so no name taking issues, ha and they adore her). Her mother takes a few jobs here and there, which is hard as a single parent. She meanwhile has an... interesting time at school given her powers. Aki is frustrated and distracted and can't fathom why people lie, especially because Maan harps on about being honest, especially to oneself and waters a very strong sense of conscience in Aki. Aki is transferred to an up and coming school called Anjuman, which is run by Daevy Pyxis’ biological sister Noor Kohli

Meanwhile, Maan starts working on writing journal reviews for sustainable products and designs, and gets in touch with Tariq's father - Altair Meissa, who is a set-designer and theatre performer, who makes his own furniture. And... well... they fall in love. Sector 09 is hostile and volatile. So there are periodic riots and mob violence sort of stuff particularly between the two religious group. One of Tariq’s heritage and the other of Aki’s, among others. So, Aki is forced to deal with this romeo-juliet-esque situation that her mom has gotten into, because it is an illicit affair and whether they want it or not, Altair and Maan are representatives of the conflicting groups. Tariq also is transferred to Anjuman. Tariq and Akira run into Eze often, who visits their school from Sector 09 G.C.A (given that its run by his aunt).

Things really head south when Tariq loses his older brother in one of these riots and that puts a whole bunch of strain on the Meissa family and this strain, for Maan, ends up sharply reminding her that her relationship with Altair is amoral. A guilt-stricken ‘I-am-a-homewrecker’ Maan ends up dependent on illicitly obtained prescription pills. While battling depression and suicidal tendencies. Akira is left to deal with this mess through her preteens and a bit of her teens, not knowing how to ask for help without giving up the relationship which feels far more dangerous since it’d drive a wedge through Aki’s family, will it threatens to make them social pariahs and might even be a death sentence given the conflict. Spiralling from the loss of her firstborn son, Jheel eventually gets fatally sick. Aki and T are transferred to Sector 09 G.C.A (where they study with Eze), till their family lives can be stabilized. Eventually, Aki returns to Anjuman but T doesn’t. She sees him largely on some weekends and during vacations. She watches him inch towards a sort of unabashed delinquency. She watches him hang out in Eze’s crowd and succumb to a life of ‘drugs and parties’. Aki, having dealt with her mom, tries to help him through his addiction, at least enough so he can keep his sports and academic performance up. There is a competition for a scholarship to G.C.A sector 0, which both T and Aki take part in and tie. On humanitarian grounds (because Jheel is close to death/ready to succumb) T is given the scholarship. (Aki is certain that there is also the influence of T’s buddiness with Eze. This leaves Aki feeling abandoned and betrayed when T accepts.

So, Aki decides, perhaps petulantly, that she too will find a way to attend Sector 0 G.C.U at least, (since transfer to the academy is unlikely) when she gets out of school even though it's much harder for people who do not have G.C.A backgrounds to do so. Despite her goals, she sort of struggles in H.S in a lonely emotional dip. And after the hostage situation that happens in her school and the information she finds out about it simply being a political facade she's disillusioned and upsette. She does run into and stay in touch with Jared though, who sort of helps her clear the entrance exams for G.C.U which she still yearned for, but had also sort of given up on. She loses her granddad on the day before the G.C.U exam - but still miraculously clears it. So, that's how she winds up in Sector 0 G.C.U studying 'biohacking' - which is basically medicine. She is also training as an Acer (G.C. Agent).

[pretty-face-breaker]

piggybacking off of whoever asked this- https://at.tumblr.com/pretty-face-breaker/nick-would-u-stop-hurting-hayko-if-it-meant-he/0ay7k6o4c660

would hayko go back with nick if nick promised not to hurt him (or the people he cares about) anymore ?

"You'll live a life of glamour."

"I did, once." Hayko's voice is hushed, barely audible. His heart has stopped racing and now rests at a steady thrum. "It was terrible."

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"How about if I stop hurting you?"

"...You and I both know you would never do that."

Even with Vladimir out shopping, he can't bring himself to laugh. Not even scoff, out of an unplaceable anxiety that he might not be alone. He knows he's alone. It's only him in the bathroom, the other man being, hopefully, miles away on the other end of the burner.

Still, he can't bring himself to make a sound.

"I love you," Nick drawls in a uniquely coercive tone. "Come back."

Hayko swallows, fidgeting with his destroyed cuticles. He sweeps the pads of his fingers over the white, raised skin around his nails and tries to pretend that he wasn't the one that called. Every day spent running is another one wondering just how close Nick has gotten.

Impatience drips from the line.

"I'm giving you a non-violent option here, my love."

At that, he can't help but scoff a little. "Why do you even bother promising to stop hurting me? It's a fucking complex for you." His voice breaks a little at the end but he hopes the phone disguises it.

A beat.

"Why exactly did you call me, Hayko? To get me riled up? To piss me off so thoroughly that when I find you-"

"...You won't find me."

Nick's laugh is distorted by interference, giving it an inhuman quality that sinks his stomach when he hears it.

"Since when have you been able to keep me away?"

Click.

—

@doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp @redwingedwhump @nicolepascaline @ifbtnna @oh-so-skeletal @whumperfully​​ 

[pretty-face-breaker]

how would nick react if hayko hit him back?

c.w. forced collaring, defiant whumpee, threats of finger-breaking, alcohol mention

‎

"Now what did you go and do that for?"

He was tipsy. It had been impulsiveness and inattention, a slip from the vodka he was currently metabolizing. But Hayko stood firm, glaring him down with his stinging palm loose at his side.

"Don't grab my hair like that. It hurts."

Despite the darkening mark on his cheek, Nick had yet to lash out. He said nothing for another beat.

"I was kidding."

But you're about to be serious, I've heard it before.

Hayko snorted quietly, too foggy in his thoughts to be impressed at his boldness. Instead of pressing his back to the freezer, in the kitchen where they both stood silently, eyes out-of-focus on the shot glasses behind them, he was solid and present for whatever would come next.

"You gonna hit me 'r what?" Hayko slurred.

He thought he could see a smile sprouting on the other man's face.

"Mm, considering it."

"'Did it, though. I warned you not t' pull my hair."

No, Hayko hadn't bothered with the implication of the smile just yet. This was giving him more of a rush than the countertops spinning around them, than the shape of his hand on Nick's patient, smiling face.

And then a knock at the door, which must have been Vlad, just on time.

Hayko glanced across the bar, relief mixing in with his giddiness until-

Until he noticed he could see every one of Nick's teeth. Until he noticed the taller man's hand slipping into his pants pocket, picking blindly, and sliding out with a studded collar.

Hayko was stupefied for a moment. Suddenly, it became difficult to breathe.

"No," more like a breath than a noise.

Nick played his tongue over his teeth, still smiling. "Get. over. here."

His hands suddenly weakening, Hayko's pulse froze in his chest. "N-No, c'me on, I didn't mean it."

"Hayko?"

"Don't-... He can't see me like that-"

"Either you wear the fucking collar, or I break one of your fingers in the next ten seconds," Nick said calmly. Then, jingled it lightly, the sound being more damning than the crack of his hand on his cheek had been.

Than the sound of the door had been.

The leather snapped around his throat and before he could slur out another plea, Nick had pulled the strap to the furthest notch.

@doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp @redwingedwhump​ @nicolepascaline​ @ifbtnna

[pretty-face-breaker]

WIJ: (Re)introduce yourself

Hey, everyone! 

I’m Ace/Acacia and I’ve been writing whump since 2020. This community has been wonderful so far and, since 2020, I’ve been working on two projects: Nick & Hayko and 1973, Emir’s Story. 

My favourite tropes include but aren’t limited to: 

Creepy/intimate whumpers

Mind-games

Masochist Whumpees

Sadistic Whumpers

Beatings & Restraints

Military whump

Abuse of authority

Whumpers as caretakers

Some random facts! My favourite season is autumn, my favourite colour is red, and I average 8 hours of sleep a night, waking up 8:30 am every morning because of school conditioning. 😭 Also, my favourite key is C# minor. 

Some of my favourite whumpblrs:

@evermetnotforgotten

@whump-tr0pes

@pythagoreanwhump

@vacaytobonetown

@straight-to-the-pain

@ashintheairlikesnow

@heathenwhump

@thewhumpstuff

@sableflynn

@quirkykayleetam

@whumpiary

@albino-whumpee

@redwingedwhump

@card-games-and-pain

@deluxewhump

@suspicious-whumping-egg​

@oh-so-skeletal​

​Happy Whumpmas in July!

[pretty-face-breaker]

Observing

c.w. abusive relationship, creepy whumper, creepy/possessive dialogue, referenced murders, vague fade-to-black bad things

before this

—

Place. Click. Crack. 

He watched him cautiously from across the new table. The planks were glossy and a rich brown, a stark contrast to the glass that used to decorate his old living room. When the light hit it at a certain angle, he would go warm inside, a nostalgia cycle reflecting off of the fine wood. But tonight, Hayko was focussed on another thing.

Walnuts.

Place. Click. Crack. 

Nick determined the amount of force he needed with a surgeon-like precision. Although, he had never seen him as particularly meticulous. The man who used to lust after pain with a blowtorch, the man who would take a hammer to a man’s bones to make him talk. 

Fragments of shell clattered onto the table, mixing their dusty browns with the rich stain. 

He hadn’t talked in a few days, and couldn't bring himself to. 

Nick didn’t seem to mind. Liked him better when he was malleable, maybe. 

He had been the type to revel in that kind of control from day one. He was the type to enjoy a bit of a struggle, getting spit on and clawed at by his newest victim. He was the type to humor them before consuming their fire. A little resistance didn’t bother him, as a walnut might, as long as he got what he wanted. 

“They still haven’t traced anything back to me. Sort of disappointing,” Nick murmured. “I wasn’t exactly precise.” 

Hayko could have erupted into laughter if not for his silent streak. Liar. You had been planning it the whole time. 

Nick must have caught that glimmer in his eye because he glanced up and grinned roguishly. It suddenly made him feel weaker. Hayko gripped the armchair for support. 

“Feels nice to breathe a little, yeah? We’ve got the countryside all to ourselves.” 

Crack. 

Setting the steel nutcracker down, Nick stood up. Yes, he was the type to shatter a man’s very core and then kiss him in apology. Card his fingers through his hair, whispering consolations into his fragmented mind. Give and take and wreck and put back together again. 

When he leaned over him, Hayko didn’t react. He only watched, trying to figure out the mess that was Nicolas Sinclair. His savior, the source of most of his nightmares, his lover, the man who had swept an entire cartel, brutalized tens more. For him. 

“And I’ve got you all to myself.” 

Hayko exhaled and let his eyes slip shut.

He needed to get out of here.

——

@doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp @redwingedwhump​ @nicolepascaline​ @ifbtnna

[pretty-face-breaker]

c.w. description of a panic attack, fear, escaped whumpee, referenced captivity, referenced intimate whump

—

He wakes with the sensation of being crushed. 

Everything closed in, his arms immobile, heart reluctant to beat. 

The air is heavy with the presence of another beside him, except his mind is too muddled to know who. No identifying scent, nor enough light to make out the features and all he knows is that a silhouette sleeps next to him, muscular arm draped lazily over his midsection. 

His chest only tightens with each passing minute. He can’t say anything or he’ll wake him.

Who? 

No use in taking that risk. 

He’s waiting for something, lying there on a mattress that he can’t recognize as his fingers begin to tingle. A breath, a sound. An indication of how he should behave, what decisions he should make in the next few seconds though everything in him tells him to run. 

Bile climbs up his throat. Still, he shouldn’t speak. Can’t let him know he’s there. Oh, it’s definitely him. He knows. Otherwise, he would have said something by now, mumbled something sweet under his breath or pulled him into his chest until the lack of oxygen put him obediently back to sleep. 

He’s waiting for something. 

A dip in the mattress, that of a body turning as it turns onto him. He’s waiting for a shift in breathing, a face burrowing into the crook of his neck to whisper “Up already, love?” as fingers play along the rim of his shirt. 

“You keeping me awake again?” 

“No, Nick. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be like that. I like it when it’s just the two of us, just like this.” 

He is wholly trapped. Run, and be hunted in the dead of night. Don’t run, and have to put up with whatever his will is tonight. 

“Hayko?” 

Don’t move, and he won’t see you. 

The body shifts and groans, the arm slithering up and away. “Hayko, eto vsego lish' ya.” 

His breath catches. It takes him a minute to register the voice and the language, the adrenaline falling one beat at a time. 

A moment of cautious silence later, Hayko’s eyes peek open, falling to the side to take a look at whoever’s coaxing him out of his terror. As he suspected: blond, shaggy, and deep set eyes.

In other words, safe. He’s safe.

“Sorry,” he whispers low enough that he doesn’t give away the terror. “Too hot. Woke up.” 

Hayko feels a tired nod, followed by “No worry. We won’t be staying long, anyway. I will wake you at six.” 

He takes a few moments afterwards, watching the popcorn hotel ceiling, adjusting himself to the modesty of the room, and appreciating how the curtains hide them from the world. 

Unlike the condo, of course. 

They’re checked in under fake names and Vladimir is beside him. It starts to come back, piece by piece, even the unsavoury events of the night before.

Still, for the first time in years, Hayko lets his eyes close first. 

—

@doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp @redwingedwhump​ @nicolepascaline​ @ifbtnna

[pretty-face-breaker]

“you love me just enough so i won’t leave.” - Hayko? Pretty please???

This one was quite a trip!

CW. intimate whumper, dubcon touching/kissing, implied stockholm syndrome, handcuffs that aren't used, psychological captivity

-

The final suitcase landed and a little pool of dust jumped in the air. Hayko watched it swirl, lit up by the faint streak of light coming from the window that made it look like fine, gold sand. In the chill of the lodge, there were few things he could grab onto to warm himself with.

“That is the last one I think,” Vladimir said after dropping it. But two more suitcases ended up being dragged in when he went to check. Nick turned and quipped about him needing a better prescription. Then, came an awful screech of wheels against the floorboards that made Hayko grate his teeth.

He didn’t drag in anything more than his share. He knew, once he’d woken up, that they were on the road to somewhere far enough that there would be no more gunshots. No more news. No more phone calls and late night ‘jobs’ and living in fear that a nail bomb might be under his porch.

No more ghosts, whispering in his head that his hands were soaked in blood. No more ignoring them until they suffocated him.

“You alright there, love?”

Hayko flinched and looked at where the rough British lilt was coming from. During the car ride, Nick hadn’t talked much. Near silence in fact, one mile after another so his voice sounded grainier now but the effect on him hadn’t changed.

“I’m okay.”

“Then come help us unpack.”

He lifted himself slowly, afraid that if he stood up too fast he would stop breathing altogether. Inching towards his suitcase, he crouched to unzip it but paused when the first thing that popped out was a coil- two coils of metal, shining in the streak of sunlight.

Hayko stilled.

He hadn’t moved for a minute when his body grew cold. He took a slow breath, keeping his eyes on the handcuffs despite the shadow. The silence was filled by haphazard scuffling of feet, zippers, grunts, the faint rumble of the engine still going outside. He could almost hear a chirping from the woods over the rush of blood in his ears.

“You packed this?” Hayko asked numbly, reaching out to touch the now warm metal. It stung at first, fading under his fingertips as he shivered.

Nick hummed in affirmation. He set his hands on Hayko’s shoulders, squeezing them when he tensed up. “Don’t take it personally. I’m obviously not going to-”

“You just can’t leave me alone,” he gritted out. The two circles grew hot, flush against his fingertips. “It’s been-... you still don’t trust me?” Hayko swallowed against a painful sheet of dryness, a pang of hurt in his chest.

Nick scoffed and tightened his fingers enough that the shoulder muscles relaxed on cue. Don't get angry. There was silence again, pushed against by their shallow combined breaths. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“You think I’m going to run.”

“Of course not.”

Hayko barked out a laugh whose vibrations didn’t go further than Nick’s hands. He felt his inside shaking, a perpetual, cold shudder that slowly heated the longer he stared at the handcuffs.

A full two years earlier was the last time he’d seen any action with them. Afterwards, negotiation on negotiation. Terms and conditions for general freedom. Differing consequences for disobedience that didn’t involve being cuffed to the foot of a bed.

When he refused to be his, refused to do his job until Nick had made him, cursed and spat that he wasn’t his, he wasn’t a criminal like him only for the affirmations to go underwater as soon as he got comfortable.

And now it was back to square one - his victim.

Hayko noticed his voice shaking and kept it low, still touching the handcuffs. “You don’t trust me.”

He felt small breaths on the back of his neck coming in little puffs. Nick’s hands were fixed on his shoulders and he wondered how much harder the man was willing to press before they bruised him. Knowing him, he was willing to press even beyond that as long as the result looked pretty. Suddenly, they loosened, fell away, and Hayko braced himself.

A shadow fell on his face once Nick crouched at his level. Hayko resolved not to look at him, not until he was forced to.

Little rebellions like those kept him afloat.

“Look at me,” Nick said quietly, betraying no real anger or frustration. Nonetheless, an order was an order and Hayko knew that better than anybody else.

He wearily met Nick’s eyes, his touch staying on the handcuffs as if leaving them would leave himself vulnerable. Hayko could have laughed at the flash of that thought, the idea that he wasn’t already.

Nick sighed and raised a hand to Hayko’s cheek, touching the scarring there gently. “You know that I love you. You know that I’ll kill for you - have, actually. That I’ll sacrifice whatever, whoever, needs to go for you to stay with me. You know that. I don’t need to remind you.”

Hayko listened, grimacing slightly if at all.

He knew that. Nick had made sure he wouldn't forget.

“But what I know is that your fire isn’t gone, beautiful. You’re a fighter, and a crafty one at that, and if that means I’ll need to chain your pretty wrists until you shake off whatever instinct you have to run away from me,” Nick said, keeping his strokes over his scars gentle, “then I will do that.”

Hayko listened, not entirely as the rest of his mind was occupied with the scratching of suitcases and automatically leaned into the gentle kisses against his scars. “But you love me.”

Nick quirked a small smile and nothing more. The hand wrapped around the back of Hayko’s head and he leaned in.

Hayko didn’t freeze this time. He turned his head until the kiss just grazed his cheek, far enough away from his lips. Far enough from the hurt, like they were right now. He felt Nick stop too and for once, didn't let his terror overtake his courage.

“You love me just enough so I won’t leave.”

Nick didn’t seem blunted by the avoidance. He thought for a moment then, unfazed, leaned in and kissed his cheek. Soft with a hint of sandalwood. Chaste. “It’s working though, isn’t it?”

Hayko gave him a sudden look. The anguish in it shimmered too shallow to be hidden and he needed to hold back the emotion threatening to burst.

The satisfaction he saw under Nick's soft smile made him too sick to move.

“Yes,” he whispered.

"Then kiss me."

It’s working though, isn’t it?

It had for nearly two years. Hayko pressed harder into the kiss, put his own hand around Nick's head and pulled himself closer so he wouldn't feel the heat of the tears when they broke.

—

Tagging: @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp

[pretty-face-breaker]

Love It When

c.w. very creepy/intimate whumper, aftermath of electrocution torture, dubcon touching, creepy possessive monologue, shock collar 

—

“What does that mean?” Hayko asks tentatively. His voice has gone mostly hoarse though he’s thankful the twitching has stopped, the constant jolts up his neck assuaged after a few focussed seconds on his breathing. Though, there’s fire where the leather sits, making his skin hum.

Nick gives him that look, fingers working the collar loose from his throat. “What does what mean?” 

Not necessarily a threat but not an invitation. 

He could have just sat this one out, stayed silent and all, but the two hadn’t had a real conversation in a while and what he had say made him curious. Whether it was that he was tired of Nick’s cautioning voice winding around him like rope every time he got too pushy or just wasn’t in the mood to get manhandled, he actually wanted to prod him this time. The harm was already done anyway. 

“Tha-at you love me.” Hayko’s voice constricts with the aftermath of the electrocution and he can see a small quirk of a grin on the other man’s face.

He wants to know. 

For a few more seconds Nick works on the collar, pulling the leather from beneath the strap and pulling it apart with clicks. Then, his eyes flicker over to Hayko’s own. He looks right at him and Hayko can already hear the formulation of so, it’s going to be like that today? 

He doesn’t say it though. Nick looks back, the smile still gracing his face turning to a sigh. “It means... I love you.” 

Something shifts in Hayko and he swallows thickly at the way he says it a second time now. It’s much gentler, so much less hungry, and so forthright but he still doesn’t understand. He asks again. 

Again, Nick starts with a sliver of reminiscing, all gentle. “I love... what you can give me. Even the things you can’t, I know you’re trying to.” He doesn’t need to look to see the climbing unease.

“And-...”

“God, I love the way you say my name in that needy, breathy voice of yours, you know? When you need something from me and you know that the only way you’ll get it is by shrinking.” 

He walks his fingers up the side of Hayko’s neck, resting them under his jaw hinge, tracing over his ear and then cups his face. Sighs when he affords to shiver and leans in just an inch closer.

“I... fucking adore the way you cry. That hitching thing you do, the way you cover your mouth and all. I’ve never said it like that but if I could watch you break down all the time, I would, Hayko. But I love when you don’t cry, when you scream instead and I especially love when you’re trying so hard to be quiet.” 

At the terrified, sharp breath that slips out from him, Nick’s eyes flutter in pure ecstasy and he closes their distance again. 

“I love when you’re so out-of-it that you can’t register what I’m doing to you. When... you’re in your pain haze and can’t respond to anything. ... Fuck, you really are too interesting to kill.” 

Hayko closed his eyes a long time ago but that doesn’t help him, doesn’t push away the feeling of Nick’s forehead slumping in the crook of his neck and the warmth of his sigh buzzing against him. 

“Your defiance, I’ve always loved. That smart fucking mouth of yours and your quick wit. Gives me incentive to hurt you and engage with you.” He murmurs the last bit with a chuckle and pulls Hayko to his chest, moving with him as he twitches again. “I love that you’re mine.” Mine, mine, mine.

There’s too much to explain, and as his boy tries to get a word in, he cuts him off with his own question. “Does that make more sense?” 

Hayko tries to whisper out a sore “Yeah” and the other man doesn’t seem to care very much. 

He only cares to add that he loves him because he’ll never ever fucking get away. 

—

Tagging @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbetism @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus

[pretty-face-breaker]

You’re in Shock

At last, it seems Hayko is dragged out of the mess he found himself in two years ago. Though, the road to freedom is not a peaceful one and especially when Nick is driving.

c.w. minor character death, guns and descriptions of blood, whumpee going into shock/being unable to verbally communicate, noncon touch (nonsexual), getting carried against will

1 2 3 4 

—

Bang.

Thud.  

Hayko’s eyes snapped open to watch him lower the gun, the blur of his surroundings replaced with a sudden awareness. The man—what had been one—had made a fleeting jerk for his waist when he had seen the barrel between his eyes but too little, too late. Nick had sent him down in less than a second. Then, just as clinically, tucked the gun away.

His mouth was stuck agape. He was unable to peel his eyes from the gore on the ground, make sense of what just happened when he suddenly saw Nick turn and lunge at him. Those green slits were focussed but Hayko screamed anyway and threw an arm up that Nick caught with ease and twisted, earning another wail from his sore body.  

“Hey, shut up,” Nick hissed close to his ear. Hayko felt a spot of blood smear onto his wrist. “Stand, now.” 

If he could obey as easily, he would have. If Nick hadn’t beaten the ability to obey out of him over the last hour, before the gunshot, before the chastising, his involvement in all of this, he would have but all he could do is push himself to his knees and keel at the sudden stab of pain in his ribcage. Hayko gripped at Nick’s arm blindly, hauling himself up through the pain until he was half-standing and could take a better look at him. 

“Ah, f-fuck. Why did you-...wh—” Desperate for an answer, he stammered until Nick was pulling him to the door under his arms. He grunted as his head hit the door frame he was thrown against and slid down on pulse with his heart in his throat. Nick stood, fully visible through the open door and only an inch away. 

He glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Yes?” That cool and unphased fucking tone, like he hadn’t just blown someone’s brains out directly in front of him. 

“Y-you…” Hayko faltered, never before feeling so helpless. “You kill—” Nick’s expression seemed to change mid-question to the dark contortion that shut him up. He didn’t have to specify that if he wanted to live, he should stop asking questions. Besides, Nick was focussed on someone else. 

“Alright Miguel, I’ve got it. I’ve gotta go, yeah.” Eladio sneered the acknowledgement into the phone at the bottom of the hall, one finger twirling the silver on his neck. 

This is happening too fast.

Hayko felt everything in him freeze. On the other hand, Nick just stared ahead, arm ghosting the leather to remove the gun in a few soft clicks and rustles. Too far for the man at the end of the hall to have heard a thing. When his eyes finally did focus on the lone figure standing in the doorway, his lips curled into a knowing smile. 

“Killed him already? Thought you’d go for a couple more hours,” Eladio could be heard lilting through his own grin. Hayko didn’t dare breathe. Through the corner of his eyes, he kept a firm stare on the man in black and recently added red as if he’d disappear as quickly as the other had. 

The one laying a few paces behind the both of them at that moment. 

Nick smiled in return, not one to disappear. “I couldn’t forgive this one, unfortunately. He pushed me too far.” And diligently, he kept his eyes lock-stock through the frame, not once letting them flicker over to Hayko who stared at his enigmatic look with a fear so deep in his bones, it could have choked him. 

Soon enough, Eladio’s eyes travelled to the mess, too. “I can tell, Jesus, right through the face? You surprise me, Sinc—” He was no more than a few feet from Nick, judging by his volume. Hayko swore he could have heard the sharp inhalation which felt louder now than every other sound he’d heard that night, even his own directionless wails when Nick had hit him with the cane and then told him he’d spare his life. Now, he and Eladio both weren’t breathing. 

“You trusted my father and he fucked you over. Honest mistake, right?” Hayko felt Nick’s grip choke the gun as evenly as his cold words wound around the room. He clenched his teeth together so hard from the roar of blood in his head, he thought they might crack when Nick would finally pull the trigger. 

Father?

Nick laughed, watching Eladio arm jerk to realization and go for his waist. “But you were stupid enough to trust me and that one’s on you.” 

The bang erupted before he had seen him raise the gun again. And another, and another, until Hayko had slid down to the ground, shielding his ears from the explosions with his palms tight against his temples. 

The first gunshot had brought him from fading away into the warmth of unconsciousness. Now, he couldn’t differentiate one sound from the other. Eladio talking, no, that was Nick. Eladio had hit the ground, collapsing backwards—or forwards, no difference. He could feel the warmth seeping out and he was so close to them. The air stunk of blood and the residue of the flashes still pulsating every time he blinked and all he did was hold on tighter and tighter, praying it would all end soon. 

Bang bang bang bang—

Eventually, he clamped his ears in hopes that the world would fade away, brushing past him noiselessly. It wasn’t until he felt the warmth of a finger brush his cheek after however long it had been that he cracked his eyes open. 

Nick, with his face and clothes pockmarked with red, knelt at his level with a soft expression. 

“We have to go,” he murmured, scratching his cheek and waiting for a reaction. 

Hayko’s hands shook when all he could return was a blank stare. Feeling nothing stirring, Nick’s eyebrows furrowed and he took his jaw in his hand. Hayko moved his elbows defensively to shield his face as the man surveyed him, recovering from the blasts and blood. God, he thought he’d stare at him with that intensity forever.

“You’re in shock.” He stated it, nothing behind the words but clinical observation. 

Hayko only whispered what mimicked a noise of confusion before he felt himself being lifted and lifted and, finally, slung over warmth—his shoulder. His hair fell in front of his eyes like a curtain and he wanted to sink his fingernails into the flesh of the shoulder as a wait, wait a minute, something to make him understand what he couldn’t say. 

Why can’t I say anything? 

What’s happening? 

Nick, however, hadn’t planned this around his silent protests. He maneuvered out of the room, over what Hayko thought was a body when they both moved up, and rushed through the crushing emptiness of the warehouse. He watched the metallic patterns, let the tools envelop his vision, registering only a faint bouncing of hair next to Nick’s shallow breaths until they jerked to a stop at a door. 

A strong hand pushed it open and Hayko braced himself for the blast of cold night air against the bruises and roar of blood in his ears. Diligently, it came and he winced all the same, screwing his eyes shut as Nick waded into the night. 

“A friend’s going to take us from here,” Nick’s voice rumbled against his ribs and he mewled and shifted, bouncing on his shoulder with each step. 

It seemed that over the past two years, things had stopped happening on cue, instead taking him all at once and winding him, too. Life hadn’t gone the way he had wanted it to and every time he had prayed for something, it had come moments too late to the point where he wondered if he had violated some nameless law to become the target of all the wrath in the world. 

But at that second, a few breaths later, two headlights shone through the darkness. The crunch of gravel poked holes in the night and Nick took off in a sprint, shushing Hayko when he gasped and held on tighter. He ran down the path and planted two hands against the passenger seat window. “Roll it down,” he ordered, breathless.  

Hayko couldn’t exactly distinguish the mumbling through the crack of the window but it was enough for Nick to throw open the backseat and let him tumble down. Groaning in pain, he felt the release of what he hadn’t been able to say since the gun had gone off, and let the little noises slip out into the leather as the driver changed seats with Nick. Doors closed and opened with no particular pattern and he felt himself being jostled, his head lifted. 

A breathless laugh came from the driver’s. “Make him comfortable, Russki.” 

Hayko gasped—wheezed, moreso and stopped himself from a hysterical laugh.  

“I have you, do not worry,” Vladimir whispered quickly. His fingers worked just as fast in adjusting his head comfortably and clicking the seatbelt in place for a meager amount of restraint. Hayko buried his head against the leg, grateful the dark could shield his face from his friend, bruises and all. 

With wheels on gravel flow, the initial acceleration and the feeling of being pushed back, the feeling of leaving everything behind, driving really did become meditation with enough time in the car. Hayko, for the first time, felt a few pounds lighter and even if it was his head, it couldn’t have hurt. He let Vlad cradle his head, smooth his hair back as the three dove into the woods. 

He let things fall behind. 

Before they had left though, he thought he had seen a sea of headlights with dark eyes peeking just enough behind each windshield, maybe a gun or two, and he could have sworn he had heard the pounding of those feet against the gravel as they left the compound behind. Weapons loading, skilled preparation, planned preparation. In the empty warehouse, he thought he heard men organizing themselves, paying no attention to Nick. 

If that had seen him, they had ignored him, Hayko realized dimly but wasn’t able to make a connection. Whatever it was, he could deal with it later.  

And still, he let things fall behind and let the darkness take what was left. 

—

Tagging: @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp 

Ask to be added/removed!

[pretty-face-breaker]

19 (follow my muse) for hayko? 👀

c.w. creepy whumper, the feeling of being watched, severe paranoia conditioned by abuse, mentioned dubcon kiss

—

He felt him always, lurking in corners of stores and alleyways where he himself could pass but also be quietly watched from. The visceral feeling that there were eyes on him that betrayed neither satisfaction seeing him there nor anger that he was alone.

The feeling that a mouth was curling into a smile as he picked out another jacket from the clothes rack.

He could almost hear the I think that would look good on you.

Go ahead, buy it. It fits you like a dream, gorgeous.

He felt him always, picking apart his mind, on his skin, in his lungs, hands snaking up his back and navel and wrapping around his throat, squeezing until he couldn't tell whether it was his own panic or strangulation out of his control. Hayko knew when Nick was behind him, directly or somewhere close, blended with the crowd of rush hour, or somewhere else entirely.

He felt him always because he wouldn't let him out of his sight.

He was always following him.

Even now, as he walked home under the dimming sky, he could feel him. The rumble along the road couldn't have been from distant cars because it was just too close. He felt him in the cracks of the walls, the cracks in the pavement, eyes lodged in the bricks following his every move and he wondered what they thought of him. The eyes.

He felt him always, in the back of his mind, nestled in the faces of the supposed strangers around him. Nick was everybody, everywhere, all the time and it would be stupid, stupid for him to think he could ever escape.

A bark of gleeful laughter came from nearby and he jumped. Relief suddenly swelled in his chest.

Not him, he thought.

Hayko spent the rest of the walk home with the certainty that he was being watched and his throat constricted every step further. Soon, the shadows would catch up to him and drag him away or lock him in the trunk of a car, leaving a crack for him to breathe through and he wouldn't have the heart to try to escape.

It wasn't until he knocked on the condo door and Nick was the one to open it that he felt shifted back again. Stable. It wasn't until his hands nestled into the small of his back and pulled him up into a kiss, pulled him coyly inside, asked him about his day, that Hayko felt he had been somebody else for most of that day.

"Where were you earlier today?" Hayko asked suddenly, cutting off the news of a business deal conducted earlier that day. He fidgeted under the cover of the table as Nick turned to look at him.

"Today, when?"

"Afternoon," he answered tightly. The time he had been shopping. Or every minute that dragged on after that, where he had felt Nick's eyes on him and his whisper along his neck wherever he went.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Out of town, I told you."

Hayko didn't dare hold the stare for a second longer before he dropped his eyes and nodded, accepting the answer. You're lying, he wanted to hiss. And Nick went back to the story as if the question had never been asked, as if it was all just in his head.

He felt him always.

—

Tagging @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp

[pretty-face-breaker]

► Harvey, you should totally steal Hayko for the day

► Nick, you should definitely come home and find out

c.w. kidnapping, referenced beating, non-consensual drugging, threats of violence, fade to black choking 

—

Hayko’s head throbbed with each bump on the road, and not just because he had eaten a nasty punch to it moments earlier in the condo. There was a dull, rhythmic throbbing making his thoughts swirl, loosening his grip so that it slipped off the door handle when he tried it to no avail. 

When Harvey noticed, he clicked it shut instantly. “Forgot about that, babe, thanks.”

“Nngh-... asshole,” he slurred as the sound reached him. “Really roofied me too?...” He heard him bark out a laugh at that before he reached out and pinched his arm. 

Hayko winced, shifted in his seat.

“See? Not all your feeling’s gone. Besides, I never intended on that in the first place.” 

Harvey pulled his hand back to the wheel, deliberating it for a moment before he went for the radio dial to let the sound of an old Joy Division tune fill out the car. Almost instantly, he caught on and began humming happily and Hayko could have sworn he had heard Nick play it before on one of the odd nights he had been equally out of it and tied to a chair. 

“That keep calling me,” he sang from his chest, imitating gruffness, “Keep on calling me. They keep calling me.”

One more turn of the wheels and a warm streak rolled down Hayko’s temple and nose simultaneously, painting a streak over his lip. The familiar taste of pennies on his tongue that he just couldn’t keep out. 

His muscles wouldn’t allow it.

They hardly worked. 

“He’s gon’ find you and fuckin’... kill you, you prick,” Hayko forced through his teeth, cutting himself off with a grunt at the pressure of the window against his head. 

“Oh, don’t worry, we have a little fun together all the time. I take his things and he takes mine. Since university. You won’t be an exception, gorgeous,” he purred. “By the time I’m done with you, he’ll be lucky if he gets a word out of you, your throat’s gonna be so fucking hoarse.” 

Hayko swallowed, tightened himself into the seat as Harvey’s adoring laughter crawled over his skin. Wondered where Nick was, whether he had noticed he was missing yet.

Whether he cared at all to have already taken off. 

Whether this was his idea.

He shook the last one out of his head. With the level of possession he had seen from the man over him, there was no doubt it wasn’t planned. He thought back to him throwing the blond out of the house, the threats echoing mechanically in the back of his mind. 

“If you’re not out of my driveway in three minutes-”

Hayko reeled as the car screeched to a stop under the sudden shadow of a roof, garage, something of the like. The world became darker, the air thicker. And the featherlight grace of fingers over his bare arm, climbing to his sleeve and tugging on it brought his breaths to a whimper. Whimpers to a gasp, to a plea. He couldn’t deal with this.  

“Wakey wakey, Hay-ko.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as his muscles would allow. “Please, don’...” Hated begging like this. Knew he needed to for the sake of having to deal with the aftermath himself. Even the thought of aftermath gripped him by the neck. The man was so fucking unpredictable, who knew if he would make him answer for this? 

Another laugh from Harvey, whose hand snaked around his throat now, fitting easily into the bruised remnants that seemed to never fade. He made sure of that. Hayko saw a smile gleam in the dark, bright and dangerous, eerily similar to Nick’s. 

“These next few hours are going to be fun, yeah?” 

Hayko didn’t have a breath to cut off. 

-

Tagging @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbetism @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus (part 1)

[pretty-face-breaker]

Thought We Understood Each Other

c.w. creepy whumper, electrocuting someone unconscious, whumpee going behind whumper’s back and paying the price, possessive physical touch/indirect threat of violence  

Following up Santiago’s escape. 

——

It took him six hours to get home but for Hayko, the time passed as if he was wading through it, never stopping to take a breath. He drove with a grip on the steering wheel that left his hands so cold despite the buildup of sweat against the rubber. The air was murky and the roads were murky and though he was there, there seemed to be a thick fog severing his mind and eyes. 

That didn’t stop him from thinking about Santiago. 

It only kept him adrift. 

Once Hayko turned that final corner that led up to Nick’s condo, he wondered how he even managed to get home in one piece. Had he even… waited at the red lights? But as soon as the realization of being not fully present had kicked in, he was adrift again. Each step up the stairs-

-and he did take the stairs. All seven floors worth, far from recognition. 

Each step knocked his heart down further and further into his stomach because for once, unimaginably, he was actually guilty. Hayko was guilty of what before would have seemed like suicide but now had happened—Santiago was gone that fast. He had shut out any voices that whispered the potential that he hadn’t made it across the border since he started driving home.

Step. Step. Step. Soft little clacks in evenly spaced intervals. Hayko’s movements were mechanical, breaths shallow, lips immobile but he could register at one point that he was praying in Armenian. It was for a lot of things from Santiago’s safety, to Vladimir’s own, to the possibility that maybe, by the grace of some god he couldn’t believe in anymore, all of them would be alright. 

As the next request left him in a breath, his leg buzzed once and he jumped in nervous surprise. In a stairwell, close to the seventh floor holding that one door, his phone was ringing. Hayko didn’t look at the name as he slid to accept the call and pulled it to his ear. “Hello?...” he asked tentatively. 

“Running late?” came the reply and he suppressed a shiver. 

“Yeah, I’m almost up, just a few more minutes,” Hayko spoke, pooling the remainder of his energy into keeping his voice as steady as Santiago would have wanted. “Sorry, thought it would’ve taken less—” His breathing stuttered as Nick cut him off. 

“I don’t expect you to start talking until you’re up here.” 

There had rarely been times when Hayko hadn’t been terrified of his voice, the jarring candidness of it shaking him to his core but especially now, where the only way was up, as the stairs below him seemed to be falling away one by one as his heels left them, no terror had ever come close to this one. He wondered whether to shoot Vladimir a concise Get out right fucking now text but knew that was out of the question. 

Hayko knew he would never leave without finding him first. 

“Still there?” Nick asked over the line, snapping Hayko out of his trance and he quickly croaked out a grim yes moments before it clicked off, Nick’s way of hurrying him. He absently stared up the final flight and was mildly horrified as he felt his regret devolving to stupid courage to take another step, and another.

Decisions had been a liberty for him, at least for the past year.

It’s just that this one had consequences that may not just sit skin deep. 

Finally, Hayko pushed open the door to the hallway and watched the number of the one further away get closer by the second—he could never remember the three digit marking on the wood, only the shape of it. 

That and what lay behind it. 

It was such a lousy barrier, this door. And he couldn’t bring himself to open it without first fumbling for his phone. 

He realized his hands were shaking when he scrolled for Vladimir’s contact and typed out “If you don’t hear from me for a bit, don’t worry. He’s out.” 

And then the door opened. 

Hayko’s eyes snapped up as he stuffed the phone away in his jeans and he started to form a greeting but by the way Nick was looking at him, he probably didn’t want to hear it as much as he wanted him inside where he could have him completely. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. 

He waited diligently for Nick’s arm to slide off the frame as his invitation inside. Every muscle in his body contracted as the door slid shut and locked—though, there was a delay. It took every fibre of his being to stay calm, for his own sake. 

At this point, Hayko knew Nick wouldn’t pity him for his fear as he had mastered how to mute it just so he wouldn’t have to. He hated it when Nick pitied him, would rather he just got it over with instead. He pulled off his jacket and went for the wooden rack, expecting to be stopped but Nick only watched him hang it up and then slip off his shoes. 

Hayko stammered at last, “It took longer than I-I thought it would.” Cursed himself for not holding up any longer. “There was… some traffic here and there and—... I made a few stops for tea and…” He glanced up and gulped at the wolfish smile Nick was now wearing. 

“You know,” Nick started, a hint of laughter in his voice, “you lie better in court than you do out of it.” He stalked over and Hayko braced himself for whatever was next. Nick took his palm and pressed it to Hayko’s chest, not so much as shoving as it was pushing him back right until his head hit the wall. 

Hayko didn’t respond, hoping staring up at him with lost, pleading eyes was enough. He shuddered at the tickle of knuckles tracing down his cheek and the next snort made him want to curl in on himself. Please, just do something already and let my fucking nerves calm down.

“You can lie to me, you do it all the time,” Nick continued. “Not like there’s a point though. You’re a pretty shit liar.”  

God, please. Please please please

Hayko swallowed thickly but his breathing really hitched when he heard the faint buzz of the phone in his jacket. He looked to Nick rapidly to see whether he heard as well but the taller man was still eyeing him, trying to pull it out of him, trying to wring him like a cloth, but Hayko had prepared for any interrogation. Had his lines and excuses chronological and ready.

“Why do you think I’m lying?” he asked. Feeling how close Nick’s breath was fanning on his face, he tipped his head back further. Don’t do this, don’t do this now 

Nick watched him thoughtfully. “You look afraid.”  

“Always,” he corrected. “I always look-... like that.” Please, please, please

A clever smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Nick inched off the wall, muttered “Good point” and Hayko was left to catch his breath quietly, fingers tapping away at the wall behind him to dispense of the grueling anxiety and near-euphoric relief. At the same time, he was skeptical under the surface but that surface was thick with exhaustion and tension and fear enough for where the hell his friend had gone and whether he was even alive and whether it was worth anything. 

It will always be worth it. 

These are the only parts of you that you have left.  

A chaste reminder. A welcome one.

Nick had a track going, something smooth and ‘60s in the living room and he turned to beckon Hayko to come in as well. “Don’t just stand there, love. I’ve backed off haven’t I?” He laughed easily and went towards the desk holding the radio to change the track. Hayko thought it strange he would as he’d heard this song before—one of his favourites. 

Nick was entirely right. He had backed off, by some miracle. Hayko began to think that the prayer had worked and that this was a shot at redemption. Of course, he wouldn’t have known. He hadn’t told him anything about it, only implied he would be late until the night before, gone quietly and returned just as quietly albeit a little later. Only that part was a real fib. 

He tore himself from the wall and made after Nick, discomforted by the calmness but quickly assuaged that fear. It was irrational. Told himself that it was over, it was alright, and to take his good graces and just last the night before he could just forget for a few hours. 

He wouldn’t know. There wouldn’t be a way for him to know, there wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t know because it’s not possible. 

It’s not possible because I tried too fucking hard just to get him across the border, fucking hell, let me have this one thing, let me have it I haven’t asked you for anything else, have I? Just let me have this, please

Hayko felt comfortable all of a sudden, the music cushioning his thoughts as he went to slide onto the couch until he realized that, here a moment before, Nick was gone again. 

“Hey, where did—” As he turned to call Nick back, he was already there and Hayko froze. Caught the cattle prod only for a fraction of a second before Nick grabbed him and pressed it into his chest, sending a tearing shock that kept his eyes wide in an immobile stare as each wave jerked through his limbs, ripped a new line of agony and lit up every nerve in his body. 

It went on for two, three agonizing seconds and his hand kept him there.

No no no  

Santiago

The last glance he caught of Nick’s face was the final blow. 

A laugh from the man who finally tore it away, letting Hayko collapse before nudging his forehead with his shoe. “You fucking idiot. And here I thought we understood each other.” 

——

Tagging @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbetism @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 

[pretty-face-breaker]

Have nick show off how loyal lawyer bb is

c.w. public power play, forced to kneel, dubcon touching, alcohol 

“I’m telling you, I thought he was gonna be a problem. I needed you to convince me that he wouldn’t be a liability when you brought him in all marked up like that.” 

A reminiscing smirk pulled at Nick’s face as he sipped his liquor. It was little more than a celebration for another successful quarter. Still, he had coaxed his attorney along on the promise that it would just be business this time. Hayko, of course, had come along. Not like he had much of a choice anyway in this scope.

“Oh, of course. You know me better than for being irresponsible.” 

Hayko kept his hands tucked neatly in his lap, waiting on a question. He had learned to be more acquiescent like that. After all, wasn’t it just good manners to keep out of a talk he wasn’t invited to?  

“I’ll give it to you, you’ve sure got him trained,” he said, chuckling when the one in question looked up for a brief moment. A spark of annoyance in the look.

Nick smiled warmly. “I don’t like that word, but fuck me if it isn’t accurate.” 

Hayko felt a slight pang in his chest. It faded on its own.

“Here, I bet if you told him to roll over, he’d do it.” Eladio hunched over his knees, bending to Hayko’s eye level with a jeer. “Would you do it if he told you?” 

Eladio’s comment was nothing more than just to wound but Nick got a playful hint to his smile as he turned the thought over and over again, weaving through it in his head as Hayko stared the insult back at him. His fingers graced over the man’s thigh and gave it a light squeeze, earning a soft gasp.

“Hey. Kneel.” 

Hayko froze, trying to find some leeway in Nick’s eyes. He wouldn’t give it to him. His gaze darted to Eladio and back but he couldn’t protest—his voice suddenly felt faint. An impatient hand gave another squeeze. 

“I said kneel for me.” Under the weight of his threatening stare, Hayko hesitantly slipped off the couch and to the carpet. Suddenly, aware of the tugging of the trousers against his knees. He was pinned between the looks of both men but only one was so obviously undressing him, giving him a roaming stare and then giving it again for good measure.

Eladio whistled in amusement. “I bet he didn’t come with that.” 

“He came with a lot of things. I added a few more,” Nick said, winking. He lowered the glass to Hayko’s lips and tipped it back, helping him by the neck as he sipped it. God, the image was fucking hot. 

The man on his knees sipped sparingly from the glass, keeping his back as straight as he could. All he was thankful for was that there was nobody else in the room or the redness on his face might have betrayed him instantly. He could feel the slender fingers on his thigh, pressing still.

“You won’t have to worry about him,” Nick threw back at Eladio, keeping his eyes locked on him as he did. “Ever.” 

---

Tagging: @adamantem-rose @doveotions @heathenville @lonesome--hunter @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump