Fic: "Killed With Kindness" 1/1, PLL, Toby/Spencer, R.
There was A Taste of Victory and In The Span of a Summer. Now, this is the third fic I've written in just a handful of days! Go, me!
Title: "Killed With Kindness" 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Rating/Classification: R, Spencer/Toby, background Jenna/Toby, noncon implications, D/s implications, a few dirty words.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit from their use.
Summary: 700 words. He's learned hate is the most powerful thing there is, especially when it skates on the razor's edge of love.
Spencer is scarily competent. When she says, "come with me," he follows her all the way through her parents' house to her bedroom. When she says, "sit," he folds to the floor, his knees feeling too big, too bony, for the space. She rolls her eyes in exasperation… he can't think of the last time he saw Jenna's eyes… "It's okay if you use a chair, Toby," she sighs, as she perches on the edge of her bed.
He shakes his head, before he lowers it so he doesn't have to look at her. He keeps his hair too long precisely so he has something to hide behind, and Spencer is definitely someone to hide from. Spencer, out of all of them, hates him the most. He fears her because of it. Because he's learned hate is the most powerful thing there is, especially when it skates on the razor's edge of love. His shoulders hunch, instinctively, because this is right about the time Jenna would hit him, tired of his silence, of his submission… but craving it just the same.
She doesn't miss a thing, Spencer. Because she's brilliant. Smartest girl in their class. "I'm not going to hurt you," she scowls, joining him on the floor. "God, Toby, why do you think I brought you here?"
"I don't know." He risks a glance up, winces when he realizes she's put her hand on his thigh. It was so gentle he didn't even know it was there. He's not used to gentle, not unless it's preceded by pain. "You think I killed Allison," he reminds her. "I thought maybe…"
"Maybe I'd bring you up to my bedroom and, what, murder you for revenge?" She scoffs, eyes snapping with a combination of indignation and… amusement. He kind of has to smile, too, at the thought. Because she could probably pull it off if she wanted to. "No. I just want to talk to you."
He can't stop staring at her hand. Her perfect nails, flawless skin. She doesn't allow for imperfection. She can't. "No one wants to 'just' talk to me. Everyone wants something. Needs something."
"What do *you* need, Toby?" She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear… and then brushes some of his out of his eyes. It's like she's decided he's a pet. Big, ungainly, but ultimately harmless. Like the tracker the cops had around his ankle was just to keep him from running into the street.
He doesn't understand it. And he can't answer her question, because no one's ever asked him that before. No one's ever let him think about what he needs. What he wants. And he feels himself pulling in even tighter, knees to chin, arms going around them.
Her breath is like a whisper and a gunshot all at once. "My God, what the hell did she do to you?" Oh, of course. Of course Spencer would know about Jenna. They *all* know, don't they? His cheeks are hot, and he shuts his eyes even as Spencer says things like "that evil bitch" and "it's okay," and runs the backs of her fingers across his face like he's just a little boy with a fever.
And maybe he does have a fever, because suddenly he can't stop shaking.
Spencer is still touching him… running her palm over his work-shirt and jeans, like she's studying every inch of him. "Isn't anyone ever nice to you, Toby?" she wonders.
Emily was. Once. Jenna doesn't know what kindness is. She thought mercy was letting him come after he fucked her. "O-only if I do something for them first."
Spencer grasps his chin with two fingers, *makes* him look at her. And he's happy to. Because she's scarily competent… and scarily beautiful. "Well, you only have to do one thing for me right now."
"What?" God, he's almost eager to have an order, to have something to fulfill, because that's easy. That's safe. "What can I do for you?"
Her lips brush the side of his face, and they feel like the sting of a slap… or maybe that's just how he's learned to process a kiss. "Let me take care of you."
--end--
January, 18, 2011
Title: "Killed With Kindness" 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Rating/Classification: R, Spencer/Toby, background Jenna/Toby, noncon implications, D/s implications, a few dirty words.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit from their use.
Summary: 700 words. He's learned hate is the most powerful thing there is, especially when it skates on the razor's edge of love.
Spencer is scarily competent. When she says, "come with me," he follows her all the way through her parents' house to her bedroom. When she says, "sit," he folds to the floor, his knees feeling too big, too bony, for the space. She rolls her eyes in exasperation… he can't think of the last time he saw Jenna's eyes… "It's okay if you use a chair, Toby," she sighs, as she perches on the edge of her bed.
He shakes his head, before he lowers it so he doesn't have to look at her. He keeps his hair too long precisely so he has something to hide behind, and Spencer is definitely someone to hide from. Spencer, out of all of them, hates him the most. He fears her because of it. Because he's learned hate is the most powerful thing there is, especially when it skates on the razor's edge of love. His shoulders hunch, instinctively, because this is right about the time Jenna would hit him, tired of his silence, of his submission… but craving it just the same.
She doesn't miss a thing, Spencer. Because she's brilliant. Smartest girl in their class. "I'm not going to hurt you," she scowls, joining him on the floor. "God, Toby, why do you think I brought you here?"
"I don't know." He risks a glance up, winces when he realizes she's put her hand on his thigh. It was so gentle he didn't even know it was there. He's not used to gentle, not unless it's preceded by pain. "You think I killed Allison," he reminds her. "I thought maybe…"
"Maybe I'd bring you up to my bedroom and, what, murder you for revenge?" She scoffs, eyes snapping with a combination of indignation and… amusement. He kind of has to smile, too, at the thought. Because she could probably pull it off if she wanted to. "No. I just want to talk to you."
He can't stop staring at her hand. Her perfect nails, flawless skin. She doesn't allow for imperfection. She can't. "No one wants to 'just' talk to me. Everyone wants something. Needs something."
"What do *you* need, Toby?" She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear… and then brushes some of his out of his eyes. It's like she's decided he's a pet. Big, ungainly, but ultimately harmless. Like the tracker the cops had around his ankle was just to keep him from running into the street.
He doesn't understand it. And he can't answer her question, because no one's ever asked him that before. No one's ever let him think about what he needs. What he wants. And he feels himself pulling in even tighter, knees to chin, arms going around them.
Her breath is like a whisper and a gunshot all at once. "My God, what the hell did she do to you?" Oh, of course. Of course Spencer would know about Jenna. They *all* know, don't they? His cheeks are hot, and he shuts his eyes even as Spencer says things like "that evil bitch" and "it's okay," and runs the backs of her fingers across his face like he's just a little boy with a fever.
And maybe he does have a fever, because suddenly he can't stop shaking.
Spencer is still touching him… running her palm over his work-shirt and jeans, like she's studying every inch of him. "Isn't anyone ever nice to you, Toby?" she wonders.
Emily was. Once. Jenna doesn't know what kindness is. She thought mercy was letting him come after he fucked her. "O-only if I do something for them first."
Spencer grasps his chin with two fingers, *makes* him look at her. And he's happy to. Because she's scarily competent… and scarily beautiful. "Well, you only have to do one thing for me right now."
"What?" God, he's almost eager to have an order, to have something to fulfill, because that's easy. That's safe. "What can I do for you?"
Her lips brush the side of his face, and they feel like the sting of a slap… or maybe that's just how he's learned to process a kiss. "Let me take care of you."
--end--
January, 18, 2011