Title: All Of Me

Author: LastWaterBender

Fandom: Professor Layton

Pairing: Emmy/Layton

Rating: THIS IS VERY RATED M.

Authors Note: This was a hard chapter to write and could trigger some stuff dealing with force. Professor Layton is in a very bad spot and Emmy is trying to keep it together as they are being forced to act upon their feelings, so to speak.

It seemed like hours that he sat alone in the room.

He paced back and forth until his feet ached. He sat on the floor with his back to the wall until his back hurt and then he paced again. What were they doing to her? His mind ran ten million scenarios in every direction and he just wanted her back.

As he began his pacing again when the door opened again. "Come on, Layton." It was the large thug guy, his voice softened like his was normal. "Are you going to follow me or I'm going to have to tie you up?"

Professor Layton held up his hands in surrender. "I'll follow." He said and followed him calmly. He prayed that he was being taken to Emmy, even though in the back of his head he knew what he was about to be forced to do.

"This way." The thug said as he led him up a flight of stairs and down a hall, had he not been in captivity he wondered just how big this place really was. They stopped in front of a large brown door and waited for a moment as the thug knocked.

The door opened to reveal an older man in scrubs. "Right on time, Bigsby." He said stepping aside allowing both of them in. The room was some sort of medical clinic filled with hospital beds and curtains. "Follow me, we've got the serum ready."

"What serum?" Professor Layton asked.

"It's my invention." Explained the doctor as he motion to sit on the bed and he was forced to sit in it as he prepared a needle. "It's a mixture between two drugs to lower inhibition and raise libido, but more importantly sperm count. It has worked beautifully in testing, now for a dry run."

Bigsby held the Professor down as the needle was slid into his neck, he gasped as he could feel the cold liquid go through his veins or at least it was his imagination. "You're going to have to tell me how it works." Said the doctor as if it was a normal situation and Professor Layton got angry.

"HOW CAN YOU SUPPORT THIS?" He roared and fought against his holds. "THIS ISN'T ETHICAL. . ."

The doctor ignored him and turned his attention to Bigsby. "You better get him to the theater, the girl happens to be ovulating and this couldn't have been planned any better." It was as if he was excited for what was about to happen.

The professor was hoisted to his feet and dragged out of the door, into a room two doors away. He was shoved into it unceremoniously and he struggled to maintain his balance. A figure laid on the bed against the wall, who sat up at the interruption. He looked up to see Emmy and he gasped.

They had dressed her up in tightly fitted black dress, her hair in curls and held back by a white flower, make up hiding the bruising on her face. She got up and rushed over to him, the dress did not hide her long legs and he could feel his body react to the sight of her. He couldn't think about that right now. He gathered her into his arms and she cried out his name, burying her face into his chest. "Are you alright?" He whispered, running his hands through the curls. "Please tell me they didn't hurt you."

She shook her head before she looked up at him. "Did he hurt you?" She whispered and he shook his head, she let out a sigh of relief. "They said if I didn't cooperate they would kill you." It came out more of a sob.

"I'm okay, Emmy." He answered as a throat was cleared through a speaker.

It was then that he realized that there was a large two way mirror on the wall. "Get on with the baby making, or I will be forced to take drastic measures." Descole's voice came from the speaker.

Emmy tensed his arms and closed her eyes for a moment. Professor Layton swallowed as he held her, he could feel his skin getting tight and hot with each of her little movements. He willed the hardness from between his legs to disappear. After a moment, she looked up at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

He hissed as her breath tickled his neck. "They injected me with a serum that. . . ." He whispered, ashamed of what his body was doing to him, but couldn't finish describing it. She looked him over, trying to piece together the clues. Her hand went to cup his cheek and that brought her body even closer to his and then she felt him, hard against her. "I'm sorry, I don't know how much longer I can control it." His body was betraying his mind and it pained him.

She shook her head. "It isn't your fault, Hershel." She said softly. "We'll get through this, together." She stood on her tip toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The moment was brought short when the door slammed open, Bigsby and his companion stormed in with two very large guns.

"Master Descole is getting impatient." Said the other man shoving them at the bed, while Bigsby held a gun at them. "Get moving."

She froze for a second. It was different having the two gunmen in the room at least before they could pretend that they were alone. She took a deep breath and looked at him, seeking courage in him. "Imagine it is just you and me." He said, running his hands up and down her arms bringing goose bumps to her skin.

That became her mantra. Just her and him.

Just Emmy Altava and Hershel Layton

It was the professor who made the first move, he didn't want Emmy to get hurt by Descole, and so he kissed her deeply, pushing her down on the bed. He seemed to have lost all control of his rational mind as each kiss clouded his mind. She tasted so good, her body fit perfectly against him.

This was Emmy that he was kissing out of desperation, not out of love but as preservation of their lives. He froze and pushed himself up and looked away from her. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You couldn't hurt me, Hershel." She whispered, pulling him back down on top of her and his head rested in the crook of her neck. He couldn't resist as he trailed his lips against her neck and he cursed the serum that was running through him.

"I need to touch you." He whispered between kisses and he froze, realizing what he had just said. It wasn't gentlemanly at all. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. . ."

"It's okay." She whispered, she pushed him off of her gently and sat up, turning so he could unzip her dress. She saw the gun wielding guys against the wall and fought a wave of shyness. Just her and him. Just her and him.

The serum was in full effect and his brain shut down. His fingers traced the path of the zipper, exposing her back and all he knew was that his body wanted more than a sliver of skin. He wanted to get familiar with the canvas that was her body and mark it as his own. His fingers traced her spine, feeling where her rib caged met it when Descole's impatient voice rang through the speaker, not that the professor had heard what he said.

All he knew that she froze before standing up and letting the dress fall to the floor, her eyes begging him to comply. Through the fog, he complied and stood up, unbuttoning his shirt and turned away, hopping to give her the privacy she deserved. Even though in matter of minutes he was going to have to do unmentionable things to her body. His clothes piled on the floor, he wasn't bothered to fold them and he took a deep breath. This was it.

But when he turned around he was speechless. Her body was perfect and he hoped one day he could enjoy it in a different capacity, but the guns pointed at his head encouraged him to move faster. She shied away from his gaze as she crawled back into the bed. He climbed in the bed after her, his hands were on her, this time skin to skin. His fingers traced a path down her breast, giving each of them proper attention and down to her stomach, across her waist and hips. Each touch making her whimper in anticipation.

His lips then traced the path of his fingers. Spending more time getting acquainted with her body.

Foreplay was cut short or he would explode or get shot, both sounded like a good idea. He pulled away to kneel upright. "Come here." His hands were on her waist pulling her to him, sliding her backside over his powerful thighs. She tried to sit up to comply, but he placed a hand on her stomach, then reached forward to stroke his hands down her body, mindful of the purple bruises that littered her body. When he wasn't careful she would flinch and immediately his heart would stop.

Every cell in his body seemed alive, striving, yearning for the moment for it to happen. He felt his one hand sweep to the dip of her waist as his other guided himself into her. He could feel her stretch to take him in, he gently rocked himself forward inch by inch as he watched himself slowly advance into her body and she gasped. "I'm so sorry." He breathed, it took all of his concentration to stop.

She tried to hide a cringe as she looked up at him. "It's okay. It's just been a really long time." She was swallowing him up, taking him in and accepting him as part of her.

Emmy took some stabling breaths before she pulled him down for another kiss, signaling him to continue.

/

Her body and her mind were in agreement. This was absolute torture.

She had wanted this with him for so long, but not under these circumstances. It wasn't fair that they were being forced into this, when they were so close to doing it on their own. She bit her lip from crying out in pain, everything in her body hurt from their earlier confinement and the fight she had with the thugs that littered her body with bruises and the fact that she hadn't been intimate with a guy in a very long time. He stopped moving before he found his rhythm and looked at her with concern, mixed with sadness and anger. "I'm so sorry. Emmy." He whispered, his arms shaking to hold himself up.

Emmy tried to put on a brave front. "Please, don't." She whispered and she took a deep breath. "Don't be sorry."

She kissed him on the lips. His body reacted and he started to move again. His hand found its way to the little bundle of nerves and she gasped, her eyes closing tightly. She heard herself making small hitching noises as she shook. She couldn't hold against this assault for long. It was impossible. Nobody had touched her like this before.

She was spiraling out of control as each snap of his hips not only filled her, but rippled agonizing pleasure along her bud. She felt herself falling away as each deep surge drove her higher towards bliss and it didn't take long for her to explode with pleasure. She cried out as her body clamped down, which only increased the stimulation as the Professor continued to move for a moment, before pausing to circle his thumb around her, drawing her sweet rapture out.

"I've got you, Emmy." He said in a breathless voice, he bent over to hook his arms under hers, pulling her up to straddle his lap, her body flush with his. Both of them sweaty and panting hard, he held her tightly as she tried to regain some semblance of control over her body.

She rested her forehead against his naked shoulder. "Wow." She muttered, breathing deeply.

"Are you okay?" He asked, running his hand through her knotty hair.

"Words gone. Brain gone." She mumbled lazily. "I'm okay."

He pulled back to look her over and she smiled at him, he met her for a kiss and then they were moving again. She did her best lifting herself as his hand under her bottom urged, meeting his more and more erratic thrust. It wasn't long before he stiffened in her arms and cried out her name as he spilled himself into her in strong, hot bursts.

She stroked his slick back with hushed whispers.

For the first time since they were taken, it was as if it was just him and her, even though they were being watched by God knows who. She held him tightly, until he was coherent enough to pull her back into the bed.

They lay on their side, arms securely wrapped around each other both breathing in pants as their legs tangled. He finally looked at her, actually seeing her beautiful face as his mind started to clear, tears streamed down her face involuntarily. He jumped back from her as if she was burning him. "I hurt you. . . "He cried out.

Emmy sat up and caught his hand. "I'm not crying because you hurt me, Hershel." She said and he stopped pulling away to listen to her. "I'm crying because I love you."

She pulled him back down into her arms and held him tightly, whispering calming words in his ear. It was then that she realized that they were actually alone in the room. The only decent thing Descole had done since he captured them.