#making a hen out of a feather
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beloveds-embrace · 7 months ago
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Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.
So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.
When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.
“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”
Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.
“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”
His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-
“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.
“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“
Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-
You want your damn drink back.
For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.
They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.
Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.
By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.
Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.
Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.
Part two
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millzinterlude · 2 months ago
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Okay but what about telling Soap that you’re ’stronger than him’ just so he can manhandle you. You know what you’re doing. Egging him on just so he can overpower you. “I dunno..I just feel like I’m stronger than you. I think it’s obvious..” You say, trying to hide your smirk. He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you as he tilts his head to the side. “Er-..last time I checked ye couldnae even do a wee five push-ups hen. Now yer claiming tha’ yer stronger than me? A lil ridiculous aye?” He let out a little incredulous laugh. “No no, I’m definitely stronger than you, see, look at my muscles. My biceps are wayyyy larger than yours..” You added, watching his face twist up in a look of slight amusement and skepticism. “Nae, lass ye wish ye had biceps like mine. Biceps ‘re basically bigger than yer head. I could pop yer head off if I squeezed ye between them.” He scoffed as he flexed his muscles, the tight compression shirt he wore hugged his body so nicely. You were basically eye fucking him while he tried to figure out why the hell you were discrediting and underestimating his strength and physique. You took it a step further. “I bet you can’t even pick me up..or win a wrestling match with me.” You sigh like you’re uninterested. His face twists up even more. “I betcha I can! C’mere.” He picked you up right off the couch, holding you like a trophy, basically bench pressing you. “See hen??? Yer light as a feather. Ah could bench press four of ye without breakin’ a sweat ye ken??” He says, genuinely trying to show you that he is stronger than you. He even flips you over, pressing you into the couch, putting you in a headlock which makes you let out a moan. He loosens his hold, eyebrows raising as he looks down. That’s when he understands what you’re doing. When it clicks for him, he smirks. Tightening his hold again before he lays on top of you, grinding himself into your ass. “Ah. I see what yer doin’ now hen. If ye wanted me ta manhandle ye, shoulda jus’ said that lass..” You’re not registering anything he’s saying, like at all. All you know is that you have a big man on top of you, thick bicep and forearm around your neck while he’s rutting into you. He’s so into this, something about having his girl under him and pressing his entire weight onto her body really gets him going. You’re trying to push back into his crotch, he’s groaning and you’re a moaning mess. When he finally lets up he’s picking you up and folding you in half, you’re not even able to testify against his before he’s shoving your shorts off and they’re halfway across the room. His face immediately between your thighs as strong hands hold them up and push your knees back into your chest. It’s safe to say he definitely shows you how strong he is that night 💝.
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ceilidho · 6 months ago
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fear of god
There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 6 masterlist
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The interior door slides open when Gaz pulls down the lever on his side, fitting into the recesses in the wall until there’s nothing between you. He’s the same and yet entirely different with nothing separating the two of you; more corporeal, undeniably flesh and blood. You can feel it now—the heat of another body in close proximity.
His stare penetrates you to the root, eyes so dark that you can’t look away. It’d be easy to get lost in them, like falling into a black hole, body stretching out into infinity, even the smallest subatomic parts of you torn apart. Expressive eyes, the kind you might look at and think that there’s someone behind them worth knowing. But the sharp angularity of the intelligence there makes your skin crawl. 
Farah finds her voice before you do. “Who are you?”
Gaz breaks his stare to glance at her, his frozen smile suddenly warming. “We haven’t met; I’m Gaz.”
When he holds out his gloved hand, Farah only looks at it instead of taking it, disbelief warring with her common sense. You wish you could hear the thoughts running through her head. 
“You can see him too?” you whisper to her.
Her head snaps in your direction, dark brows already furrowed. “Of course I can. What are you talking about?”
It’s perhaps impossible to explain without making yourself sound insane. More insane, in any case. But with the proof in front of you now, you can’t deny any longer that Gaz is real; that after days spent worrying about the state of your crumbling mental health, the very cause of your concern now stands before you, witnessed by someone else. You’d laugh if you didn’t feel faint. 
Because he is real—all six feet and two inches of him. Close enough to reach out your hand and touch. His skin looks buttery soft; if you were a foot closer, you’d almost be tempted to take his hand if only to see if your fingers would pass through.
Without warning, the intercom suddenly crackles to life again and a familiar voice blares from the speaker. “Panel secure. Headed back now.”
The sound of Nikolai’s voice sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. Even Gaz glances over his shoulder at the door and the vastness of space behind it. There’s nothing there, but his thickly accented voice asks for confirmation and you know it must be him, not a trick of the comms system. You stumble back until you hit the wall behind you.
“Kolya?” you hear Graves respond sharply, his voice still carrying through the ship over the intercom. “Shit, is that you? Do you hear me?”
“Черт побери. Yes, I hear you, mother hen,” Nikolai laughs in response. His laughter is a crisp, hollow sound over the intercom, like crackling blue electricity. “On my way back now. No need to pluck all your feathers out.”
His nonchalance is, frankly, unreasonable for the amount of time elapsed since he last checked in with the crew. 
A whole body comes into view this time, an astronaut waving to you through the window of the exterior door. Even from the other side, you can tell it’s Nikolai, the sheer size of him apparent. 
“Alhamdulillah,” Farah breathes, pulling the lever down for a second time to initiate the return sequence. 
Like deja vu, you watch as the first set of doors open and Nikolai slowly makes his way into the airlock one slow step at a time, the man looking no worse for wear. Beside you, Farah whispers something that you miss. The doors slide shut noiselessly behind him, and again you watch as a man in a spacesuit undergoes repressurization, the tensing of his shoulders making his discomfort with the process apparent. 
He already has his helmet off before the second door even opens. “Like I said, easy peasy. Can someone get me a coffee now?”
It’s almost too much for you to digest in such a short period of time, your emotions slingshotting between losing Nikolai and finding a strange man floating in the middle of space and then hearing the Russian man’s voice again like nothing happened. Lost time, or gained time. 
He must pick up on the way you and Farah simply gape at him in stunned silence.
“Something the matter?” Nikolai asks, a thick caterpillar eyebrow arched. A second later, he registers the other man in the hallway and grins. “Ah, you met Gaz. Nice guy, huh?”
“You know him?” Farah asks, her incredulity apparent.
“We met outside. I sent him in to get warm.”
You’re properly dumbfounded now, staring at Nikolai with abject disbelief for giving someone permission to board the ship without the commander’s permission. 
The footsteps of your commander and his second echo as they race down the hallway from the cockpit, the metal clunking under their boots. Louder and louder until they reach you, coming to a halt just a few feet away.
“Didn’t think I was gone that long,” Nikolai murmurs, stripping out of his spacesuit at the same time. Without a word, Farah helps him tuck it back into the storage locker he originally took it from. 
The two men stalk forward the remaining distance and when you look over at Graves, you can see the worry and relief writ large across his face, his attempts at concealing his emotions only partially successful. 
“What the fuck happened?” Graves barks, his expression stern until his eyes land on Gaz standing peacefully in the middle of the corridor, and then something shifts. A brief uncertainty clouding the pale blue of his eyes. “Who’s this?” 
Gaz lifts a gloved hand in greeting. “Name’s Gaz.”
“Found him outside wandering around,” Nikolai booms, slinging an arm over Gaz’s shoulders in an obvious show of fondness. “Poor bastard couldn’t find his crew.”
“Just wandering around in the middle of nowhere?” Graves asks, cocking a brow, skepticism thick in his words. 
Gaz smiles sheepishly. “It’s my fault. I got a bit turned around.”
Graves hums, mulling over the information. “…Turned around, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Looked away for a second and then my group was gone.”
“That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”
“No, sir. Not at all.”
His deference is second to none. You could almost imagine yourself believing him, swept away by concern for his welfare. 
There’s a difference though. You’ve had the benefit of several days of acclimation. 
“Sir—commander,” you interject, swallowing when Graves turns his attention on you, the microexpression that flits across his face betraying his displeasure at being interrupted. “I’m sorry, but this makes no sense. I don’t see how…well, how he could have survived out on his own. I mean—” Your eyes flick towards Gaz. “I’m sorry, but none of this makes any sense to me.”
Graves’ lip curls up. "What doesn't make any sense?"
"Well, should we have brought him in? This just doesn't seem like protocol—"
“I don’t get your point, doctor. Should we have just left him out there to die? I thought you had that whole Hippocratic oath to uphold.”
None of this makes any sense to you. Apart from Farah, they’re being entirely too cavalier for happening upon a man in the middle of nowhere. There should be talk of heading back to Earth or quarantining him in the brig. 
“It’s not about that,” you croak. 
“I don’t understand you, doctor. You of all people should want to help.”
But he’s the man I’ve been seeing for days, you almost scream, but the blatant disapproval in Graves’ eyes makes you hold your tongue. You know your instincts aren’t wrong. Basic science isn’t wrong. Even if his spacesuit were able to provide basic environmental protection and life support, the longest a human might be able to survive after becoming untethered from their ship would be just under nine hours. 
You don’t know why this isn’t registering as strange to any of them. They act as though there’s nothing at all unusual about a man floating in space without any spacecraft within fifty million miles of him. As if this were just something that happened from time to time, and not an unprecedented anomaly. 
“Well, you could probably do with some shut eye after your trip, I reckon,” Graves says, clamping a hand down on Gaz’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “We have a spare bunk near mine—bit cramped, but I’m sure you’ll make do.”
Gaz tips his head in thanks. “I’d appreciate it.”
“And—sorry, forgot to ask, but are you good? Not feeling faint or sick or anything? I know our doctor’s a little prickly, but whatever you need, she can help with.”
The weight of Gaz’s gaze makes your body feel leaden. 
“All good for now,” he says, still smiling serenely. His stare never wavers, smile never dips. “But don’t worry, love. I’ll come find you when I need you.”
Nikolai’s arm drops from his shoulder and Graves leads him off down the corridor to recuperate in his new room. The scream is buried in your throat; if you try to cough it up, only blood and mucus will come out. 
You can only watch helplessly as they walk away, Farah gone by the time you remember to look for her. 
After that, hours pass by without any sight of the man who recently boarded your ship. You don’t see much of anyone in fact. Hadir eats lunch around the same time as you, but his conversation is oddly circulatory, muddled, like he can’t keep his thoughts straight. He mentions the same thing twice and doesn’t seem concerned when you politely remind him that he already told you. He also doesn’t seem to register your words when you tentatively broach the subject of Gaz’s sudden appearance. 
Hadir shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Better for us anyway. Could be nice to have another warm body around here.”
“Don’t you…don’t you remember what I told you the other day?” you prod, pushing your potatoes around with your fork, your stomach in knots. “When I told you I saw someone outside?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s who I was talking about,” you whisper, as if concerned about being overheard. “I saw Gaz out there. He must have been out there…for days at least.”
“Ah,” he says, mildly contemplative. “Funny, that.”
The conversation feels like a dead end because it is, and you abandon it not long after when you realize that though Hadir is responding to your words, he doesn’t seem to be understanding them. It’s like you’re talking to an automaton, something designed to give you a response but not engage like a human would.
Even that thought seems wrong somehow. You shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of things about your coworkers. 
Back in the medical unit, you pick up the stool that fell to the ground on your way out earlier and take a seat, sipping periodically at the ice cold coffee still sitting on the table. Your mind goes blank for some time. Different than earlier though—not the blankness of concern and paranoia, but the blankness of complete stupefaction. 
It gives you some time to think, but no matter how many times you run through the events of the day in your mind, you keep coming back to the same questions. The same questions with no answers. 
Appetite a no show, you figure it’s better to just retire to your quarters for the evening. 
In bed, you read the same paragraph of your book three times before it sinks in. You can’t concentrate on anything. The same phrase on a loop, your real thoughts swarming like locusts and drowning out the narrator in your head. 
A knock at your door startles you, accidentally making you crinkle a page of your book with your thumb. You bite back a curse, smoothing the page out and calling out a frustrated one second when the person on the other side of your door knocks again. Impatient much. 
You open the door, expecting to find Graves or Nikolai on the other side, only for you to balk when you’re met with the sight of Gaz towering over you, his forearm braced against the doorframe. 
“Hi,” he says after a beat of silence. 
“…Are you lost?” you ask suspiciously. 
“No. Thought I’d stop by before I turn in for the night.”
Something occurs to you the longer you stand so close to him. It’s been lingering in the back of your mind since the interior doors to the airlock slid open and he boarded the ship, a thought hidden under its own afterbirth, placenta and membranous fluid soaking the ground beneath it. A thought that, to this point, has escaped your notice, hiding away like a prey animal. 
And it’s that: Gaz doesn’t have a smell. When you inhale, he doesn’t smell like anything you’ve ever smelt before. No lingering traces of body odour or sweat or soap. You breathe in and it’s like you’re standing in front of an empty doorway staring out into the empty hallway. 
But he does have a scent. 
It doesn’t register to your nose, not a scent that your olfactory senses can detect. Nothing like that. Instead it hits you like a memory, like a feeling blooming in your chest. Palo santo and orange blossom; the sound of a tennis ball hitting a racket; an aerial view of an Olympic pool and someone swimming laps, their body stark against the blue; white florals and a masculine voice laughing. 
His scent is a delicious rush of wonder and elation, a dopamine spike. You crane your neck to meet his eyes and honestly you’d forgotten how beautiful he is. An Adonis; over six foot and body corded with muscle. Lean waist and wide shoulders. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, sculpted from something divine, a substance not found on Earth but in a more heavenly realm. 
You rock forward on your heels, pulled like a magnet towards his lips. His lips gently part, anticipating yours before they’ve even met.
Your hand hits the wall and reality comes back to you. Solid metal under your feet and an aluminum composite under your hand. White, sterile walls. In the hallway, the lights dim as the night cycle commences. You have to physically shake your head to rid your mind of any thoughts of Earth. It’s still there though, on the periphery of your senses; a dream world that you might get lost in if you were to look for too long.  
Something is very wrong. 
You rest back on your heels and move your hand until it hovers over the button to close your door. 
“Unless you’re sick, I can’t help you.”
“I’m not sick, love.”
“Then what do you want?” you bite out, overtly hostile now. 
He smiles but he doesn’t blink. Then his eyes flick up, studying the room behind you, his gaze roving over the walls and furniture, scrutinizing your space. Examining the clothes strewn over your bed, the little knick knacks and oddities that make your room yours. 
“Just wanted to see what it looked like from the inside,” Gaz finally says, and your blood goes cold. 
With that, he pulls his forearm off the doorframe and straightens to full height. 
He makes it a few feet away from your door before turning around to look back at you. “Night, love. See you in the morning.”
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stellewriites · 8 months ago
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PART TWO
summary: by chance you and your emotionally unavailable husband meet a friendly couple that invite you stay at their farmhouse in scotland. however the time spent there with johnny & kyle has you questioning if there’s a dark side to them you didn’t see before.
a speak no evil au - series masterlist
notes: manipulative johnny & kyle, piv, noncon, somno, never explicitly acknowledged abusive relationship between reader and her husband (financial, physical, emotional, coercive control), drinking, murder, it’s dead dove horror people!! heed the warnings
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despite your best efforts, elliot’s words had gotten to you the night before and it had made you cautious to sit downstairs for breakfast; hyperaware of yourself and what kyle and johnny must have thought of you.
you decided to nip down to say good morning - it was only polite - and while you were there you could grab two coffees for yourself and elliot.
you ran into gaz as soon as you got down the stairs.
“morning, sleep ok? johnny said you weren’t hungry last night,” kyle said as soon as he saw you walk into the kitchen, a little concerned frown and pout pulling at his pretty face. “can i make you an omelette? pancakes?”
“pancakes?” you couldn’t help but ask with a smirk.
“johnny likes ‘em.” you snorted.
“an omelette would be good, thanks.”
kyle immediately got up and got to work in the kitchen, letting you take his seat so you were sat closest to the kitchen counter he stood at.
“where is johnny this morning?”
“out with the donkey, loves the early mornings. don’t think his body can get out of the habit of them,” kyle said with a fond roll of his eyes. “means i get to stay in bed and extra thirty though, so i don’t complain.”
he grabbed a mug from the cupboard when the electric kettle clicked off and made a quick drink.
“coffee?” he slid it onto the table next to you. “husband can’t knick this one, eh?”
“oh, thanks.” you took a long sip despite the heat.
“how’d you sleep?” kyle asked again, watching you.
“yeah, good, slept right through,” you lied. you’d tossed and turned all night with elliot groaning in his sleep and you knew you had bags under your eyes to prove it.
kyle nodded and turned back to the eggs he was scrambling in the pan alongside the grated cheese and chopped vegetables he’d chucked in.
“johnny had a great idea last night, and i don’t say that often,” kyle joked. “we thought we could take you out to this little restaurant, up near ballo reservoir and the ruins. it’s ran by an old mate of ours.”
“that sounds fun, yeah,” you agree. you smile a little wider when he turns around with your omelette and sits next to you. you look down at the plate and gawp. “bloody hell, that’s a big omelette.”
kyle laughed. “yeah i figured why make more pots to wash when we could just share,” he said and revealed two forks.
“oh.” you blinked. “…ok.”
kyle didn’t wait for you to change your mind before he was using the side of his fork to cut a mouthful of the omelette off.
“second day in the highlands, what were you thinking of doing?”
you finished chewing your own bite before answering. “elliot will need help during the day i think. hopefully he’ll be able to get a stable enough wifi connection to check his work emails.”
“fuck that,” gaz scoffed. “you should help me in the garden. johnny will sort out your husband if he needs a hand; soap’s got odd jobs around the house he’s doing to keep his hands busy anyways, so it’s no trouble for him to keep an eye on elliot.”
you hesitated, knowing elliot wouldn’t appreciate johnny’s rough handling, but you found it nigh impossible to say no to kyle’s big kind eyes. especially when he was leant in so close.
“then i guess i’m gardening today,” you said bashfully.
---
he showed you around the chicken coop first, let you throw a bit of grain down so the hens would swarm closer as you squatted down among them to pet lightly at their feathers.
“made the henhouse myself,” kyle told you smugly, his chest puffing out further when your head snapped towards him.
“no you fucking didn’t,” you said, your eyes raked over it as if seeing it fresh.
“alright, maybe i had a bit of help from a friend, john - not my johnny - was always handy in his time off during the service. gave him a call an’ he helped me figure it out when my first attempt didn’t go so well,” kyle admitted sheepishly.
you snickered and walked up to the small shed-like structure. you could see it was lovingly made, each decision during its creation had a practical use.
“you and johnny ran into any hobbies or skills you’re not good at?” you joked.
kyle huffed a laugh and tugged you out towards the vegetable plot across the garden. “can’t say we have, love.”
“oh, fuck you,” you laughed and shoved him as you came up to the first raised bed, knocking him of kilter.
“hey, hey watch for the onions,” he laughed as his knee bumped into the wooden side holding the budding vegetables.
“god, this place is huge,” you said wistfully as you rounded to the next bed and noticed the handmade markers.
carrots
tomms
tatties
gaz’s awful radishes
you grinned before running your hands gently along the beans growing high intertwined with the arches joining the raised beds to create a path down the centre towards the greenhouse.
“have some if you’d like,” kyle said and gestured to the pea pod resting on your fingers.
your gripped it tighter and tugged, pressing at the seam gently until it popped. the peas inside were huge, but it was always the crunchy casing that you enjoyed. you took a bite as gaz led you to the greenhouse and let out a deep hum at the refreshing taste.
“just wait until you try the strawberries,” he said teasingly, sliding open the the glass door.
he grabbed a clean empty bowl from the side and handed you it as you crouched to look at the strawberry plants lined up to the right of the spacious greenhouse.
“go ahead.”
you grinned and started picking the ripe ones, sneaking one or two to eat when kyle leant over your shoulder to steal his own.
you dropped the bowl off in the kitchen to rinse later on your way down to the barn.
“weren’t we gardening? why are we going to the barn?” you asked as he led you across the gravel and around the back of the garage.
he pulled open the barn doors with a grunt.
“to grab an extra pair of gardening gloves, but also to check up on marmite. she’s been a bit ill recently, caught her foot on something sharp in her paddock the other day so we’ve been trying to keep her still while she recovers,” kyle said and led you to the stable on the right.
you frowned before you saw the sweet little donkey stood, chomping at its bucket of hay.
“oh my god,” you whispered. “you actually have a donkey.”
kyle frowned at you, confused. “said so earlier didn’t i?”
“i couldn’t tell if you were pulling my leg or not.” you reached out and she slowly lumbered over to you, an obvious limp in one front leg. “will she be ok?”
“oh yeah, vet said she just needed to rest it, nothing major,” he reassured you. “plus she’s been through worse, she’s tough.”
you made an inquisitive noise as you gently petted between her ears and down to her nose.
“when we first found her she was pretty sick, left to rot in a field nearby, so we took her in. took a while for her to get back to full health, but now marmite gets to relax in her own paddock with the few sheep the neighbours let roam. sometimes we take her to the farmer’s market on the weekend when it’s good weather. she likes the work and the kids like to pet her, increases sales when people realise we’re authentic.” he scruffed roughly, but lovingly, under her ear before patting her neck. “give her another month and she’ll be back pulling her cart.”
you cooed, heart melting at the thought of her pulling her own cart with kids petting at her sides. “wait you called her marmite?” the donkey lifted her head at her name.
you bit your lip trying not to laugh as kyle turned an offended look towards you. “it’s a good name,” he defended.
you shook your head.
“this place is so fucking wonderful, kyle,” you said. “i think i could stay here forever,” you whispered.
he pulled you into his side and kissed your temple. “could if you wanted.”
you laughed at his joke and rolled your eyes. “oh yeah the commute to elliot’s work would be fine,” you teased.
kyle shrugged. “i’m sure we could find a solution to that.” you grabbed the gloves and a trowel and headed back towards the garden on a slow walk, waving to johnny through the kitchen window as you passed. “let’s get started on the garden, johnny’s wanting the rhubarb up.”
“making pie?”
“we were planning on going to the market in a couple of days time, if you wanted to come with us,” kyle offered casually. “it’s not like the overpriced shit they do in the city.”
you grinned and nodded. “do they always run it mid-week?”
“mid week every other week and the first weekend of every month,” he said. “you’ve missed the weekend one, which is a shame because it’s always busy and more vendors come.”
“i’m sure i’ll have a blast either way,” you reassured him. “will i be given free cheese like at the place des lices?”
kyle grinned, sharp and teasing. “i’ll bring a block with us if it keeps you hovering by me and johnny’s stall.”
you snorted and elbowed him as you reached the garden again. “behave.”
you dropped to a squat and started rustling through the large green leaves of the rhubarb until you found the base, twisting and pulling until it popped loose.
you chucked it into the bucket between you and gaz and grinned as he started to work beside you.
---
you spent the rest of the afternoon with him in the garden, only stopping to have lunch on the outside table - sandwiches johnny brought out with a teapot and two mugs on a tray - and gathered all of the vegetables and fruit that needed picking, whether to cook for themselves or for the market.
“do you go every week then?” you asked as you finally headed back to the house with your hands full and mucky from the soil.
your forehead was sweaty from the hard work but you didn’t feel uncomfortable, it felt good to have been useful and busy again.
“the market?” you nodded. “nah, we don’t have a big enough plot for growing. and it doesn’t bring enough in to make it worth it to expand. we just find it fun, enjoy getting out and seeing the locals every so often.”
“yeah you could probably go crazy staying out here alone for too long,” you laughed as you walked ahead of him into the house. “with sheep as your closest neighbours.”
kyle bit the inside of his cheek but you didn’t notice his silence.
“hey, good day?” you called out to your husband sat in the next room as you placed the vegetables on the table. when he didn’t reply you went through, careful to take your shoes off first so not to track mud inside. you leant over the back of the sofa and kissed his cheek, frowning when he sharply pulled away, glaring forward at the tv. “elliot?”
he stayed silent.
you slowly stood back up straight and waited for any sort of reaction for him before heading back to the kitchen. you knew how he got when he was in a foul mood, and you could see this one a mile off, there was no reason to push your luck.
stuck in your own head you were taken by surprise when johnny suddenly grabbed you by the hips, his bright eyes and toothy smile an inch too close to be casual as you looked up at him.
“fuckin’ hell, yer glowing, lass,” he boasted. “farm work looks good on ye.”
he patted one hip and winked before letting you go to clung to his husband. leant over kyle’s shoulder at the sink where he was rinsing the soil away from his hands and the root veg you’d picked, johnny pulled his husband’s chin towards him and kissed him.
you felt rooted to the spot as the pair opened their mouths wide enough to slip their tongues against the other’s, spit slicking lips and connecting what little space was given in thin strings as they swapped soft moans and heavy breaths. it was a private moment, intimate, but you couldn’t pull yourself away even as your stomach tightened and your throat became dry.
they pulled away, barely an inch, but enough for gaz to speak.
“don’t forget about that restaurant tonight, love,” he directed at you. “dress up a little, it’s like a chef’s table.”
your husband perked up from the other room at the mention of a chef’s table - never one to pass on an opportunity that made him look rich and important like the man he worked for, always searching for another story to brag about to his mates.
“what time? is the chef anyone i’d have heard of?”
johnny stifled a mocking laugh into kyle’s shoulder, one hand wandering beneath gaz’s jumper.
“nah, mate, he’s a bit lowkey this guy. doesn’t do social media or the like. invite only to his place.”
elliot’s eyebrows raised and he leant further over the sofa arm to talk. “and we’ve been invited then?”
“aye. we have.”
“do you want help changing, elliot?” you asked, but before your husband could find fault in your offer, johnny interrupted.
“i’ll help the wee injured lad, hen. you go get all bonnie for the meal, take your time getting all fancy f’r it,” he said, finally detaching himself from kyle.
“oh, ok.” you nodded when elliot didn’t immediately complain and headed upstairs, grimacing at the soil beneath your fingernails that you still hadn’t washed off. you sniffed yourself and grimaced at the thin layer of sweat clinging to you. you grabbed your towel and headed to the bathroom.
“fancy,” you’d scoffed to yourself in your bedroom after a quick shower.
you weren’t sure you could count anything you’d packed for the week as fancy or pretty enough for an invite-only restaurant.
you pulled out a black dress you’d packed in case you and elliot got some time alone. now that you were here you knew how unlikely that was but you were appreciating the foresight now.
the dress wasn’t anything special, not something you’d have chosen to eat out in if you had access to your other clothes at home; it went below your knees but the plunge of the neckline would have elliot grinding his teeth if you wore it around gaz and soap.
you bit your lip before making the split second decision to wear it anyway. a voice at the back of your head whispering insistently and repeatedly that kyle and johnny would love it.
you finished getting ready before considering the shoes you’d brought with you.
your hiking boots, trainers, and a pair of floral patterned wellies. “fuck.”
hadn’t thought that far ahead when you’d packed the dress, clearly. you sighed and headed down the stairs anyway. smiling when you caught johnny and kyle’s eyes.
“trying to kill us, hen? where have ye been hiding this little number?”
“give us a spin,” kyle ordered, and you followed suit without a second thought.
“yer a lucky man, elliot. very lucky indeed.” johnny patted your husband’s shoulder. “go get yer shoes on, hen, and we’ll set off.”
you felt your cheeks heat. you pointed down to your trainers next to the door. “i don’t have anything i can wear with them except my trainers,” you winced.
“oh that won’t do, what size are ye?” johnny asked, waiting by the door until you answered. “same size as my sister then. she’s left a few bits here when she’s visited before, i’ll see if i can find anythin’ in storage. she’d nae mind.”
he was gone and back again in a flash and you were handed a pair of black heels to step into. you thanked him and shakily stood, the heel far taller than what you were used to and the strap thin and barely providing support.
“oh god,” you huffed as you wobbled in place.
“need a hand?” johnny offered his arm and you clung on as you headed towards the door.
“christ, it’ll take all night to get to the car with her like this,” elliot complained behind you, kyle supporting him under his arm.
“i don’t think you’re one to talk right now since she’s still looking steadier on her feet than you,” kyle said bluntly. elliot’s ankle had lost the swelling and was simply wrapped beneath his socks and shoes for support, but he’d never been good with pain and you knew he’d take an extra few days to make sure his suffering was known.
you were inclined to agree with kyle that the injury was small, just needed a bit of rest to heal, but the bruising around the bone had you worrying about elliot driving at the end of the week and wondering if it had been worse than gaz had figured, and whether a sprain - or god forbid, a break - would need seeing to sooner rather than later.
johnny’s arm had gravitated to hold you around the waist as you drifted in your thoughts, leaving you to grip his wrist and his other hand for stability as he led you towards the car over the gravel. you felt your life flash before your eyes a handful of times as your ankles struggled not to cockle and keep you upright on the short walk, and you sighed in relief when you finally got in the car.
next time you’d wear the bloody wellies if it meant not having to wear shoes like this. god knows how johnny’s sister managed it.
---
kyle and johnny took the time during the drive to boast about simon - the chef and an old friend of theirs - and his restaurant; focusing on his cooking skills and mentioning only that he was a take-no-shit type of bloke, so not to be offended when he wasn’t particularly chatty.
“think the most i’ve ever heard him talk was when i asked what was in that soup he made last time,” soap snorted.
kyle parked up next to the single car parked by the side of the road, his headlights shining on the ruins a few hundred yards ahead of them.
to the right along a small cobbled path was a two story building that looked more like a house from the outside than a restaurant.
behind it sat the reservoir, black and still in the low moonlight.
the location was gorgeous but solitary and you wondered how he kept his lights on without foot traffic before laughing at your thoughts. it’s invite-only, this guy - simon, you reminded yourself - obviously didn’t need foot traffic to get by.
you held on to johnny tightly once more as you walked towards the building and found that its outside looks deceived you when you stepped inside and found the front room had been renovated into the dining area. it sat only one table in the centre but it was cosy, welcoming, professional. you assumed the back section of the old house’s ground floor had been adapted into a professional kitchen and storage space.
johnny led the group towards the lone table, big enough to seat four, and pulled out your chair, taking his seat opposite you after.
you’d been sat barely a minute before the door to the back swung open and a large, hulking man wearing a surgery mask and an apron walked over. he untied his apron once gaz stood up, holding it in one hand when the shorter man leant in for a hug, slinging his trunk of an arm over kyle’s shoulders.
“good to see you again, simon,” gaz said as he pulled back. “how you been doing?”
“good,” simon grunted, with a nod. he waved johnny forward with a weary flick of his wrist, but you could see the fondness in his eyes when johnny clapped his back and clung on.
“cannae wait ta see what you’ve got planned fer us t’night, si,” johnny said as he pulled back.
“wait ten minutes an’ you’ll find out, won’ ya?” simon said.
johnny huffed.
“simon, this is the couple we were telling you about that we’d met last month,” kyle said.
“french riviera.” simon nodded.
“nice to meet you,” you said. “these two were singing your praise on the way over so i’m excited to be here.”
simon smiled at you before flicking his towards kyle and johnny with a raised eyebrow.
you felt like you were being made fun of, talked about despite the silence, and you didn’t like it.
“when’s first course then simon?” johnny asked.
simon sighed. “was waiting for you to turn up, wasn’t i?” he said before slinking off to the back, barely sparing a glance for your husband during the entire exchange.
you’d quickly forgotten the uneasy feeling when the food came out; stuffed mushrooms for the starter and lamb served with smoked aubergine and caramelised onions and a robuchon-style mash that you’d practically inhaled after the first bite for the main. now you were just eagerly awaiting dessert.
it was overall one of the best meals you’d ever had, only highlighted by the fruity cocktails simon had impressed you all with and the silly jokes he’d told when he poured them. you didn’t know how he managed it all alone; or you assumed he was alone, with no conversations bleeding out from the kitchen when the doors opened and no face other than simon’s seen.
you slouched in your chair, wholly satisfied with the evening, and reached to hold elliot’s hand on the table at the same time that gaz looked to johnny lovingly.
he leant in and gently kissed his cheek, pulling back to stare in one another’s eyes and share the moment just between the two.
elliot sniffed at the display, looking down at his plate. “so you two, how’d you meet again?”
“met officially when we were put on a mission together, but i’d see johnny around base and at the nearest pub on our days off before that,” kyle said.
“he didnae have the time of day fer me at first,” johnny laughed, his arm moving under the table as he rubbed at kyle’s thigh.
“saw him strike out with half the men and women in the bar, gave me the ick,” gaz joked. “asked me out more than a dozen times.”
“an’ yet he was the one that got down on one knee all teary eyed in the end,” johnny disclosed.
“realised thick-headed scot’s were my type after all, came to my senses,” kyle cooed.
“sorry, you said men and women?” elliot asked, suddenly visibly invested in the conversation.
his eyes were sharp and you new he was thinking back to your conversation in france when you’d reassured him neither man would be interested in flirting with you. you were still convinced they were just tactile people, especially given how they had greeted simon, but you had to admit that the last few days had been filled with odd moments that had you questioning your own feelings. either way you knew elliot would be like a dog with a bone after this, would try and use it to cause an argument after such a great evening.
“aye. he did.” johnny nodded.
“so you’re not… gay then,” elliot hedged.
you kicked his leg beneath the table and gaz snorted.
“nah mate. we’re not,” gaz said.
“so then…”
“elliot,” you hissed. “stop prying.”
“i’m bi,” kyle said with an easy shrug before elliot could react to your reprimand.
your eyes flickered to johnny, meeting the bright blue head on as he was already watching you before he looked at your husband.
“i don’t put labels on things, limits me,” johnny sniffed. he looked back to you as he spoke next. “i like pretty people with bonnie accents and big doe eyes. like gaz here.” he turned to his husband with a cheeky grin.
gaz snorted again, mirthfully this time.
“cannae say no to him ever, jus’ ask him,” johnny said and you silently agreed.
“like you ever want to, i’m full of good ideas.” gaz pouted.
“why ye asking anyway, elliot? feeling the urge to join us?” johnny licked at his teeth, predatory as he stared down your husband.
elliot choked out a startled ‘no’ and shook his head, making the couple laugh at his urgent insistence.
“for the best i think. i dunno if you’d be able to keep up, no offence,” gaz said condescendingly. “we don’t tend to play vanilla.”
your eyes widened as a sudden slew of scenarios involving the two handsome men in front of you flashed before your eyes. you did your best to keep your face straight even as elliot frowned and scoffed.
“what, you like to tie each other up?” he rolled his eyes with a huff of a laugh.
kyle didn’t rise to the bait. “we do all sorts. don’t think there’s much we haven’t tried at this point.”
johnny grinned at him.
“even like… gags and spanking?” you asked, sudden and unbidden, the words needing to be answered even as you felt your entire body heat in embarrassment.
“yeah, hen, we’ve tried those a few times,” johnny said gently but eagerly. his foot knocked against yours beneath the table and you fought not to jump or flinch. “what we’re into at the moment though is roleplay.”
“can have a lot of fun with it,” kyle agreed.
“you’re kidding me,” elliot said, disbelief colouring his voice.
“not at all, watch,” johnny said before standing, hooking his napkin over his arm and holding it in front of him like a waiter. he cleared his throat before lilting his voice slightly higher, like he was using his ‘phone voice’. “was everything to your satisfaction tonight?”
“it was fantastic,” kyle said, immediately playing along. he slouched into his chair. “the dessert though, was a little lackluster. i wanted something with a bit of a bite.”
johnny raised his eyebrow. “i might be able to help with that, sir.” he leant forward as though to grab his plate, but instead knocked his fork to the floor. “oh no, silly me.”
“you better grab that, hm?” kyle asked, spreading his legs as johnny immediately fell to his knees, crowding close.
kyle looked over at you and elliot and grinned at your shocked, engrossed faces. he lifted the table cloth and covered johnny’s head and curved back. he hid one hand beneath, resting it on the back of his husband’s head, scratching through his mohawk.
your breath started to come short as you heard the fly of kyle’s trousers go and then suddenly it was all you could do not to squirm and add to the noises coming from the other side of the table. the room was silent, not a word from your husband for the first time in years, and the kitchen seemed to have stilled while johnny hummed and gagged.
kyle groaned and huffed, his smiles tilting the breathless noises into half laughs as johnny seemingly sucked the life out of him.
you’d never held yourself so still, not daring to check what elliot’s reaction was as you stared between kyle’s pleasured face and johnny’s bobbing head beneath the cloth.
suddenly the pair stopped, and johnny threw the table cloth up with a grin, laughing alongside kyle as you and you and your husband tried to catch your bearings at the reveal of the unconventional joke.
“just fuckin’ with ye,” johnny said as he sat back in his chair.
you shakily laughed along, avoiding eye contact as you pressed a hand to one cheek, hoping to ease the heat you could feel emanating, knowing that between your legs was no better.
“don’t worry we’d ask before including you in anything,” kyle said. “even if we just wanted you to watch.”
“though when we open up the relationship it’s usually to get the third person involved. cannae help but touch, watching’s nae enough,” johnny added, heated as he glanced at you.
“i’ve never done that before,” you said softly, too brusk to be a whisper. “be with two people at once that is.”
you hadn’t realised elliot had spoken at the same time, his words only just registering as you watched johnny’s gaze simmer.
“we’re not interested.”
we.
there he went answering for the both of you again.
“right?” he pushed.
you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, fearful of what his reaction would be until johnny’s foot knocked yours again. you felt a sudden surge of confidence.
“i think this might be the first time you’ve ever said no to having sex with someone that wasn’t me, elliot.”
your husband sputtered, only embarrassed further when gaz whistled low and soap shook his head, privy already to the failings of your relationship and at a loss as to why your husband could have ever made the choices he had.
“well, if yer not up to it, elliot, we wouldnae push,” johnny said. “in fact it’d mean you’d have the entire bed to ye’self while we kept bonnie company for the night. more room fer you to spread out as ye sleep.”
you felt your body run cold as you thought back to your first night; you’d thought perhaps one of them had overheard elliot’s thoughtless comments but you hadn’t realised they’d heard the entire conversation.
you laughed awkwardly at johnny’s suggestion as elliot insisted a little too seriously that nothing of the like would be happening.
simon thankfully interrupted the stand off between the three men at the table as he brought through dessert; a light chocolate sorbet with fresh raspberries.
you thanked him and took the opportunity to share the joke you’d been trying to remember since simon had shared his first pun when he’d brought out the starters.
“how does a french chef respond to bad egg jokes?” you asked and waited for simon’s shrug. “oeuf..."
you saw his eyes crinkle and assumed that was as close to a laugh that you’d get, feeling quite pleased with yourself.
“that’s a shit joke,” he said, but the amusement was clear in his voice. “enjoy your dessert.”
“thank you.” you took a big bite, groaning deep at the rich taste and tartness of the fruit. the prospect of brain-freeze unable to slow you down.
“fucking hell, would you behave?” elliot hissed in your ear.
gaz dropped his spoon with a clatter, and sniffed harshly, looking across at elliot with clear disdain.
“you need to stop disrespecting her, mate. she’s an adult, she’s enjoying a meal; leave her alone.”
“was i talking to you?” elliot said back, eager for the fight. “you don’t see me interfering with your relationship.”
“yeah, exactly. your lips were sealed when you thought johnny had my dick in his mouth at the table, but now you think you can get snappy?”
“she’ll learn her manners even if she does insist on being friends with you two,” elliot said.
you felt anger bubble at being ignored, talked about as though you weren’t there by both men.
johnny noticed your discomfort and nudged gaz, his posture loosening when he saw your lowered head, jutted jaw and the embarrassed purse of your lips.
“maybe we’ve all had too much to drink,” johnny said appeasingly. “more than we’d realised. simon’s always been a strong pour.”
“i agree. not that the cocktails weren’t lovely, but they must’ve gone to everyone’s heads quicker than expected. they were moorish,” you laughed, though it sounded thin and fake to your own ears.
gaz huffed through his nose heavily. he nodded and looked at you as he spoke. “i’ll go settle up with simon. if you need a hand walking back to the car you could wait with me?”
you nodded when elliot didn’t protest and johnny got up to help him.
you waited with gaz near the back of the room where simon had set up a little till station, a bowl of mints to the side that you felt swell of fondness for as you looked at them.
simon picked up on the awkward air immediately when he came out from the back, watched with keen eyes as you shuffled from foot to foot and sent anxious glances out the window in between compliments to the food.
“‘m making a cake soon,” he said out of the blue as gaz tapped his card, and you turned back to him, interest piqued. “any recommendations on flavour? bit tied at the minute.”
“oh.” you blinked. “i had a lemon poppyseed cake a few years ago that was to die for.”
simon watched you steadily for a moment before humming. he handed kyle his receipt. “tell johnny it was good t’see ’im.”
“you too, si.”
kyle offered you his arm to walk back to the car and you took it gladly, letting him help you to keep your footing until you were situated in the back with elliot.
the drive back felt exponentially longer in the silence. the lack of music, johnny’s chatter, or even your own ramblings had you on edge.
the silence from elliot continued into the house as he winced and hobbled up the stairs alone, refusing any more help than he’d already been forced to rely upon.
you followed behind him dutifully, mouthing a soft ‘thank you’ to gaz and soap at the stairs before disappearing into your room.
elliot waited for the door to close before he rounded on you.
“‘i’ve never done that before’,” he simpered, pitching his voice higher to mock you.
“elliot, i—“
“go ahead try and explain your way out of that one, hm? practically threw yourself at them,” he spat.
you scoffed.
“its not like i said yes to fucking them,” you reminded him, not mentioning the urge you’d felt at the time to do just that.
“didn’t say no either, did you?” elliot asked, his voice raising. “i think they were planning on bloody bedding you tonight in fact.”
“fucking hell. you’re being dramatic and- and silly,” you said in disbelief. “they were playing around. christ knows if i can get over what you did, then you can deal with them flirting a little.”
he moved swiftly despite his ankle and grabbed your arm tightly, ignoring your sharp gasp as he glared at you. “you need to start listening to me. we’re married, if you remember? so start behaving like it.”
“you’re hurting me, elliot.” when he didn’t let go you nodded quickly and spoke again. “i understand.”
“good.” he nodded and bent down to kiss your lips chastley. “then let’s go to bed.”
he let you go and limped over to the bed. you joined him a moment later, shaken as you tried to calm yourself enough to lay next to him and pretend to sleep.
---
johnny had set up breakfast outside the next morning while kyle had sorted out their few animals and checked for any stray sheep that needed to be shepherded closer to their neighbour’s land; taking their truck around the edge of the property.
“hey, got some brekkie outside if ye want to join? kyle’ll be back any minute now.”
you nodded and helped elliot across the garden as johnny brought the fresh orange juice with him for the table.
you thanked johnny for the broad spread and plated yourself some of the mixed fruit. when you heard a door slam, you turned to the driveway and saw kyle making his way down the side of the house to reach the garden. he waved when he caught you looking, readjusting his cap so his face wasn’t hidden by the brim as he came closer.
he bent to kiss johnny’s scarred temple before taking his seat and stealing a sip of his coffee, wincing at the bitterness.
“you tell ‘em yet?” kyle asked johnny in a low tone, putting the mug back and pouring himself a juice.
“not yet,” johnny replied. he cleared his throat when elliot lifted an eyebrow in question, having stayed stubbornly silent with johnny and now kyle. still moody from the evening before.
johnny sighed, almost awkwardly. “look, we didn’t mean to overhear, but conversations echo in an old home like ours,” he started. you immediately went cold. “there’s been a few things we’ve both heard over the last few days—“
elliot jumped in, finding his voice suddenly in the face of his reputation being squandered, even if it was just johnny and kyle. “whatever you heard was between myself and my wife. it’s an old mistake and we’ve worked through it to heal any wounds caused. we’re happier than ever now, aren’t we?” he threw his arm behind you to rest in the back of your chair, the picture of a perfect couple. you nodded placidly. he turned back to them. “our therapist is fantastic.”
“therapist?” kyle asked.
“yes, a couple’s therapist, but you see her a couple times a month alone too, don’t you, darling?” elliot said.
“we needed someone impartial to help us see through the fog,” you said, repeating the words elliot had used over a year ago to convince you to stay. “we were just running in circles about it.”
kyle nodded. “how’d you find this therapist then?”
“elliot found her,” you said.
“lucky she was such a good fit if she was the first one you tried,” kyle said mirthfully.
“well she’d helped me before so i knew she was good at her job,” elliot let slip.
you stiffened and slowly turned to face him. “what?”
“she just gave me some advice, helped me out of a few toxic relationships when i was younger, darling. nothing serious like us. i haven’t been married before if that’s what you’re thinking,” elliot tried to joke.
it was not what you were thinking. it was not what you were worrying about.
“when you were ‘younger’? you’ve known her for years?” you questioned. “she was meant to be fucking unbiased and you’re telling me you’ve used her to get you out of relationships before? what the fuck, elliot?” you seethed, your voice raising.
“darling—“
“you told me she was trustworthy!” you laughed mirthlessly as you thought back to your first session. “you said you’d never met her before, just another fucking lie for the tally is it? it’s feeling pretty endless at this point,” you scoffed.
elliot’s lips thinned as he pulled his arm back and looked at you, debating his next move.
“we went to university together,” he admitted. “we’re just friends.”
“oh christ, ‘friends’. good to know the woman i’ve been telling my deepest, darkest thoughts to has more personal loyalty to you and whether or not she’d keep my secrets is one too many drinks away,” you spat.
“she takes her work very seriously, she wouldn’t break confidentiality like that. she’s never told me anything you’ve said in a session that i wasn’t there for,” elliot pressed, reaching to hold your hand.
“and why should i believe you?” you yanked your hand back and stood, storming off towards the woodland at the back of the garden.
“always with the dramatics.” elliot shook his head. he stood and took a step to follow you but winced when the pressure on his ankle spiked a sharp ache up his shin.
soap and gaz stayed seated, watching him struggle silently.
when he slumped back into his seat johnny spoke up. “why don’t we take ye back inside? give her some space.”
elliot bit the inside of his cheek but knew disagreeing wasn’t an option. he jerkily nodded once.
kyle kept an eye on you as you stopped near the tree line, smiled, amused, when he saw you kick at a nearby tree trunk. you weren’t going any deeper into the start of the trail so there was no need for them to bother you, you needed time to process and work through your initial anger.
he grabbed a plate for himself and started to eat, grabbing bits he knew johnny would want when he got back. there was no point in wasting a dewy fresh morning and good food just because elliot was a moron.
they’d finished majority of their share of the food when they heard your footsteps heading back. you hadn’t lingered at the end of the grass for long, deciding to join them once more with a ducked head and an embarrassed hunch to your shoulders.
“are ye ok?” johnny asked carefully.
“yeah, yeah. fine. just annoyed, more than anything. embarrassed i made such a scene.”
“don’t be, if it were me ah’d ‘ve gone bananas hearing all’a that.” johnny waved you off.
“there’s only so much someone can take,” kyle added.
you nodded and felt a stray tear slip and in a flash the pair of them were tugging you out of your seat to wrap you in a warm hug.
“thank you, guys,” you said as you squeezed them back. you sent a weary look towards the house as the one thought that had been going around your head for the last half hour - the last year if you were being honest.
you were going to divorce elliot.
“you’ve done so much for us, for me, these last couple of days. how about i cook for you guys tonight? i make a pretty mean lasagne if you’ve got the stuff?”
the couple grinned. “i think we could find what you need.”
you finished your breakfast and headed back inside after the couple waved of your offer to help clear the table.
“we’ve got a bit to catch up on around the farm that we’ve put off since you arrived,” kyle said. “we’ll be back later on, but feel free to go where you like on the property, do what you like.”
“make ye’sen anything from the fridge if ye get hungry,” johnny added.
which left you with a slow day to entertain yourself. with kyle’s. words echoing in your mind you headed to the large bookcase on the living room and grabbed the first book that caught your eye. sitting in the armchair diagonal to the sofa where elliot was watching their tv from, you curled up and silently began to read. you weren’t ready to talk to elliot yet, but you knew he’d need a hand throughout the day and you didn’t want to add onto johnny and kyle’s already long list of things to do.
you caught gaz and soap nipping in and out throughout the day and when it timed right, you refilled their flasks with steaming tea before they were off out again.
the book lasted you the day, thoroughly engrossing you in the story, and elliot played nice for once, giving his p’s and q’s when you handed him a fresh cuppa and even cautiously squeezing your hip in appreciation when you passed by towards the end of the day.
“i’m making lasagne,” you said as he waited for your response.
“sounds lovely, darling.”
you were still angry at him, but it turned to despondency when you saw that johnny had taken the time to set the ingredients aside for you on the counter and in the fridge. elliot had never done that for you.
such small things were missing, it wasn’t just his cheating, but that had been the linchpin for this longwinded realisation that you just weren’t happy together.
you lost yourself in the preparation of the meal, not noticing your company as you started layering the sauces and pasta sheets. johnny and gaz came lumbering in, clearly tired but obviously satisfied with the work they’d completed in the day and hovered by your side.
“ah hen, that looks good. think i could eat the lot t’ ma’sael,” johnny groaned.
“you bloody dare,” kyle threatened, leaning ober his shoulder to see what you were doing. “we’ll clean up upstairs and leave you to it.”
“it should be cooked in the next 40 minutes, so take your time,” you said, gently elbowing them away so you could put the tray in the oven.
they nodded, and you got to cleaning up after yourself.
a nudge at your hip what felt like only a few minutes later had you looking up in surprise and smiling at kyle as he dried the dishes you’d washed. it was painfully domestic and you looked over your shoulder to see johnny wiping down the countertops.
“has kyle told ye ‘bout the market?”
“yeah, in two days’ time right?”
“aye, you should come with us when we go. will be a right laugh,” johnny offered.
“i’d love to,” you agreed, not sparing a thought for how elliot would deal with the journey or get around the market once he was there with you. you wanted to be selfish about this. “what are you thinking of taking?”
“got a fair bit of fruit and veg lined up, some pickles stuff i’ve been working on, a few woodwork projects gaz brings along,” johnny listed.
“you sell your work?”
“just small stuff like fence signs, ‘welcome home’ plaques, small coffee tables,” kyle said bashfully.
“you should bring your charcoal drawings too, johnny, i bet people would love to see their countryside lovingly captured,” you suggested.
“ah, maybe,” he hedged. you huffed, surprised that this was what got the pair shy. “should’ve brought some’a yer own paintings to sell, bon.”
“oh fuck, i forgot my paint set at home,” you said, deflated. “i was really looking forward to painting sometime. in fact today would’ve been perfect for it.” you pouted, annoyed at yourself doubly.
“ye can just borrow some of my stuff,” johnny said easily. “what’s mine is yours, yeah?”
you blinked. “uhm, sure.” you cleared your throat. “thank you, johnny,” you said a little more gratefully.
“think that lasagne might be finished,” kyle said as he stood. “i’ll set the table.”
you nodded and went to help elliot while johnny pulled out the dish and scooped it onto four plates.
“looks delicious, you’ve outdone ye’self here,” johnny cooed. you grinned and felt pride bloom when all three of the men sat at the table groaned at the taste.
“can i make a toast before you all finish in one bite?” you asked playfully. kyle was quick to nod and put down his fork, swapping it for his glass of water. “to lasting friendships and new starts.”
elliot frowned but lifted his glass.
“cheers tae tha’,” johnny said, taking a quick swig before shovelling another spoonful off his plate.
---
with dinner a certified success and your mind made up about your marriage, you found it easier to forgive your husband for what he’d let slip at breakfast.
you headed to bed, peaceful in your decision, and smiled at elliot as you changed into your pyjamas.
“darling…” he started, hesitant for one of the first times in your relationship. you sat next to him on the bed, ignoring the way it squeaked beneath your weight. “i truly am sorry for not telling you— for lying to you about sarah. she’s the most qualified person i know in the field, i just wanted the best for you, for us. i didn’t think about how it would look in the long run.”
of course he didn't, because he never thought about how you felt. you took his hand and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.
“i forgive you, elliot. mistakes happen,” you said simply.
“yeah?” he asked, his grin and confidence growing. he slipped his hand free to cup your face and pulled you in for an eager kiss. “thank you, darling. i knew you’d understand.”
his eyes darkened as he looked at you, his hand dropped from your cheek to your shoulder and trailed down the long sleeved shirt you slept in.
“you know, you were right at dinner the other night,” he said, and plucked at the bottom of the shirt. “we haven’t had much time for each other recently. maybe we should rectify that.”
of everything you could've guessed elliot would have said to you after everything, that wouldn't have been one of them.
“your ankle,” you reminded him stiltedly. “you’re meant to rest .”
“i’ve been resting,” he said impatiently. “but either way, i’m sure we can work around that.”
“the walls are thin,” you said, hoping it came across as shy instead of reluctant. you were disinclined to fuck your husband now that you’d accepted you wanted better, more.
but you supposed you could give him a quick handjob and call it a night, his complaints be damned. you saw the frustration bleed clearer in his expression with each excuse.
you pushed him back into the pillows and climbed over him to settle in close at his side. guiding his chin up you kissed him in soft little pecks that led across his cheek until you could nuzzle along his jaw and gently nip and lick at his neck. you lifted your palm up and licked a broad stripe across before slipping it beneath his boxers, soaking up his groan as your slick palm wrapped around his base.
you always were a sucker for knowing you were doing a good job, even now when you weren't too invested.
you pulled him free from his boxers and tightened your grip as you moved in deliberate, slow pumps. keeping your eyes low, you watched the first spurt of pre dribble down before it was quickly gathered by your fingers and spread laxly over his head and back down the shaft.
“oh fuck, that’s it, darling. just a bit quicker and tighter for me, go on,” he encouraged.
you did as he asked, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb to his slit. you felt him shudder and the arm he’d wrapped around you tightened incrementally.
“feel good?” you asked and squeezed tighter on your next pump. he was leaking enough that the glide was slick and easy, the friction causing him to groan.
“fuck, i think im gonna- gonna cum,” he whined and you took that as a hint to focus on his head, swirling your palm in tight motions until his hips were lifting off of the bed to push into your sticky grip. he came with a low gasp, his breath hot and damp across your forehead.
you waited for him to hiss in sensitivity before you let him go and sat up, keeping your palm away from your clean pjs.
“just let me wash up then we can go to sleep,” you said.
elliot sleepily nodded, his eyes already half closed. you sighed.
---
with a jolt, you suddenly woke with elliot hovering over you; he was already dressed, though the lack of light itching to burst past the curtains let you know it wasn’t yet morning. you were disoriented and confused as he whispered rushed mutterings.
“elliot?”
“shh,” he held his finger to his lips, eyes flickering to the bedroom door. “you need to pack, we have to go.”
“what? no, what time is it?” you sat up and brushed his hands away from you. he stopped tugging at your arm and instead pulled away the duvet.
“there was an emergency, we have to go. now.” elliot repeated. “please darling, quickly.”
“an emergency?” your ears pricked even as you read the time, 5am, on your phone. “what emergency?”
“i’ll explain on the way,” he said vaguely, finally pulling you out of the bed and hissing when he pressed too much weight on his ankle.
“elliot, slow down. just tell me what’s happened, im not leaving here without saying goodbye to—“
“shut up. for once just do as i say,” elliot rounded on you suddenly and gripped your neck tightly. you reflexively pulled at his wrist to ease up the pressure and nodded as best you could with his broad palm pressed snugly against your throat, his thumb and fingers hooked at the edges of your jaw. “we’re leaving. we have to go, and i mean now.”
he let you go and you stayed quiet, muffling your coughs into your elbow. he was hasty in his own packing, rushing you along all the while and stumbled with his bag on the stairs, irritating his injury enough to let out a sharp gasp.
you ducked under his arm and helped him hop to the car, sending pensive looks behind you the whole time, guilt churning in your gut.
“are you sure you can drive, elliot?” you asked finally, hesitating to put on your seatbelt once you were sat in the passenger seat.
he shushed you rudely and gritted his teeth as he pressed on the clutch.
the drive back down the winding lanes towards the main road was rough, the car stuttering every time elliot’s ankle succumbed to and crumbled under the pressure he needed for the clutch, his leg flinching up and the seatbelt catching you before you jerked too far forward.
“where’s my phone? i need to call work, i need— where is it?” he hissed, patting his pockets and checking the holders in the car, hardly watching the road.
“you don’t have it?” you asked, confused.
“it was charging on your side of the bed,” he reminded you impatiently.
“then how did you know about the emergen—“ you realised with a sudden sick roll of your stomach, that he’d lied. again.
he was pissy you had a few days left of the holiday, that he wasn’t enjoying himself but you were. you had two days left but he he didn’t want to be around them anymore so he faked an emergency, because surely he’d have had his phone if that were true. fuck, no wonder he was being vague about it all, he wanted time to make up something detrimental at work or perhaps even to do with a friend that would be fine with lying to you. he certainly had his pick of them.
he span the car around angrily and you held on to the door handle as the tyres squealed. “you’ll need to go in and get it as quickly as possible.”
“sure,” you said blandly. you were sick of trusting him and getting fucked over for it every time. would you ever learn?
yes. the divorce would make this the last time you let him walk all over you.
you didn’t bother trying to quieten your steps along the gravel back up to the house. part of you hoped johnny or kyle heard your steps and came down to stop you leaving while the other half worried what elliot would do if you dawdled.
you mumbled to yourself, pissed off and chuntering, as you walked into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty and to be able to nip upstairs and grab elliot’s mobile and be gone again, an apologetic text already drafted in your mind for johnny and kyle.
however the pair of them were already in the kitchen, a third man stood with them. johnny jumped from his chair and wrapped you in his arms immediately, causing you to squeak when he squeezed tight.
“we were worried you’d left,” gaz said from where he leant against the kitchen counter, the mysterious man stood silent opposite him. “fretting we’d done something wrong.”
johnny let you go finally so you could reply, his big blue eyes staring down at you intensely.
“oh, uhm, i’m sorry,” you started, stuttering through an explanation. an excuse. “we uhm, we did go but it’s because i woke with bad stomach pains.” you felt yourself retreat into your shoulders, hunched and embarrassed with such focused attention on you. “elliot was worried, said we should go to the hospital maybe, uhm, so we left without saying goodbye. in a hurry. sorry.”
you noticed the third man staring at your neck and reflexively lifted a hand to cover the area, hoping to feel whatever he was staring at, thinking your shirt might've had the tag stuck out at the front given how dazedly you'd dressed earlier. instead you sucked in a thin breath when your hand pressed against sensitive bruising.
you broke eye contact immediately and dropped your hand to your collar bone, felt your cheeks heat in a putrid mix of anger and humiliation.
“we found his phone in yer room still,” johnny said and pulled elliot’s mobile from his back pocket. “glad ye came back fer it, but if yer ill was it really so important?”
you floundered for a moment, eyes glued to his hand, before gaz spoke up.
“might’ve just been the booze from last night, yeah? sometimes it doesn’t settle well, simon forgets what the average person can stomach,” kyle said. he winked. “it’d be especially rough for lightweights.”
you rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t deny it.
“it still hurting?” johnny asked, his free hand drifting close so his fingertips could trace your stomach lightly in the opening of your jacket.
you clamped your own hand over your soft tummy and nodded, feigning a stomach ache.
“let me make ye some chucky eggs and a chamomile tea to ease it off,” johnny offered and dropped elliot’s phone on the table roughly. “a light hangover cure coming right up, don’t figure you’d want a hearty, greasy brekkie like what i do fer me an’ gaz when we’re hangin'.”
gaz pushed off the side and gently corralled you into a seat, pushing it in for you afterwards and letting his hands linger on you shoulders. you couldn’t help but nod and go along with their sweet touches, even as you thought of elliot sat waiting in his car. they were being nicer than anyone had been in a long time when you’d been ‘ill’.
it felt like they were being careful with you. it almost made you feel even guiltier for lying to them.
the third man coughed and looked at kyle with raised eyebrows, his heavy facial hair hiding any mirth that might have hidden around his mouth.
“ah, where are my manners? love, this is price, our pest control guy,” kyle said as he hovered by your chair. “sometimes when we’re too busy to handle it, we get price in to shoot the foxes that are eating the hens. we’d called him last week since we’ve been having a few issues, completely forgot after you arrived.”
you nodded along, though you couldn’t remember seeing or hearing any foxes over the last few days, even on the late evenings.
“he’s a good man, won’t be a bother,” johnny added. “in fact it was good that he arrived when he did or we’d have had no clue ye were gone.”
“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, and took his meaty hand when he offered it. as you looked into his pale eyes you saw something mean to him. hidden behind his soft, placid smile and easy nod there was a sharp glint in his eyes he couldn’t hide.
you knew without asking that he enjoyed his job, enjoyed hunting, and you were suddenly glad you wouldn’t have to witness it going by johnny’s promise that he'd be out of the way.
johnny handed you a earthy smelling cup and you slowly sipped and watched him hover by the toaster as the eggs boiled in their pan, waiting to butter then slice the toast into dippable pieces.
he’d just scooped the eggs into their little cups and played them beside the toast when your husband limped in, stumbling at the unexpected sight of gaz and johnny. he sent you a baleful look as he took in the scene before him and you ducked your head back towards your boiled eggs.
“we were wondering when you might turn up, mate,” kyle said, finally taking his seat next to yours. “was just introducing the missus to price.”
“poor girl said she was ill?” price said and elliot clung on to the excuse.
“ah yeah, she’s always been a drama queen this one. wanted to head home as soon as she started feeling a little under the weather,” he said. he looked down to your plate. “feeling better now, though, i see.”
price’s gaze turned frigid as he stared at your husband. he looked to johnny for a moment, who nodded once, before turning back to your husband.
“you ever gone hunting before?” he asked. “do a bit for the lads here when they’re tied up in more important things, could take you out when i go looking for foxes today.”
elliot jumped at the chance, even with his ankle.
watching price, you felt rude for the voice in the back of your head that was telling you this man was not to be trusted. he was nice from what you could tell, charming even, if not commanding. you assumed he perhaps had a similar background to johnny and kyle with how he held himself, that his gruff exterior was likely earned from years in the service, but despite that something in you bristled all the same in a way it hadn’t so far. looking at elliot however, you realised he felt far differently; price’s casual dominance had managed to bring your husband to heel.
“great, we’ll keep bonnie company for the morning and if she starts to feel faint again, we’ll look after her,” johnny said and clapped elliot on the shoulder.
---
the couple hardly gave you time to let your breakfast settle before they whisked you off onto a trail behind their house again and after a short walk you got to see the view kyle had shown you on his phone originally in france.
“said you wanted to try painting it, so here we are,” kyle said.
“i don’t have my stuff with me.” you frowned, remembering speaking about it before.
“ahh, we came prepared.” johnny took off his bag and rooted through it, pulling out three small drawing pads and a water colour set. “no wine this time,” johnny teased. “an’ we’ll have tae share the paints.”
“then what’re we waiting for?” you asked excitedly.
barely twenty minutes in you quickly found that this was the one thing the pair of them couldn’t do.
gaz struggled the most, claiming after barely ten minutes that he was going down an abstract route with his, and despite his teasing, it didn’t take johnny much longer after that to admit that his skill lay in charcoal.
you had spent the better part of the morning on your painting, but at the last minute painted over the same branch until the colour was too dark, overworked and leaking a little into the leaves.
“fuck,” you huffed and dabbed it with your sleeve. elliot would scowl at the mess but you were distracted, worried about what johnny and kyle thought of your lie earlier that morning and your rude almost-exit. “i’m sorry about this morning,” you said finally.
“there’s nothing to apologise for,” kyle said immediately. “you’re still here, right?”
“still, i just—“
“hen, please. you’re fine, you’re forgiven if that’s what ye need t’hear.” johnny smiled. “maybe we should head back, ahm craving a hot choccy like nobodies business sat out here in the cold.”
"we can get lunch started," gaz suggested before turning to you. "What are you craving, love?"
---
you had reached the garden when you heard a shot echo from the woods.
“must’ve found the den,” kyle said in response to your tense shoulders, but your husband's scream following a moment later had your head whipping across the lawn.
with wide eyes you watched the tree line, stubbornly still even as kyle and johnny tried to encourage you further down towards the farmhouse. you felt your hands twitch as your husband burst from the overgrown bushes, pushing out of a trail you’d have never known was there otherwise.
at his desperate, fearful face you turned to kyle for support automatically, johnny nowhere to be seen, but found his eyes were dark and hooded where he watched elliot struggle to hobble over to you. his stance was lazy; you’d almost think he was uninterested if you hadn’t noticed the way he’d not blinked since your husband’s running figure had breached the bushes, but you could tell he was entirely focused on elliot.
as he got closer you noticed the blood streaking down his face from a large cut across his forehead and his broken nose; evident from it's quick bruising.
he looked like he’d been hit with the solid flat side of something head on. at the sight of tears in his eyes you suddenly jumped into action and met him halfway, helping hold him up as he tried to move quickly away from the forest behind.
“he’s trying to kill me, he’s going to— he attacked me, he wants to kill me, we need to leave,” he babbled, nasally. “we have to go, please.”
“let’s take a second to breathe, mate, yeah? come on, sit down inside and tell us what’s happened,” kyle said reasonably.
“no! i’m not fucking staying here, you’re all crazy,” elliot said and tried to pull you along passed the kitchen door. “he’s a fucking psycho, he attacked me with the fucking— the thing, the gun!”
“i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” kyle insisted, but you recognised a hint of impatience to his tone and it had you continuing to walk with elliot to your car. “if you slow down, we can figure this out.”
“kyle… even if this was an accident, i think someone should look at the cut,” you said. the blood had dripped far enough to begin to soak into elliot’s collar and stain the material.
“no, no, no,” elliot suddenly mumbled and you turned forward to look at the car. your eyes locked onto the flat wheel and you felt your stomach drop.
“elliot…” you whispered.
“get in the fucking car,” he ordered and pushed away from you to round to the passenger side.
dread spread like ice to your fingertips and toes and you flinched out of kyle’s hold when he reached for your arm from behind. you span around to face him and stumbled back a step towards the car, only breaking eye contact with kyle when you saw movement from the garage.
johnny. he was dusting off his hands as he walked and you felt your panic rise and thrash. you’d not lent a thought as to where he’d gone when elliot had appeared bloody and frantic, but in the back of your mind you supposed you’d thought he’d continued on to the house; whether for a first aid kit or to start those hot chocolates you didn’t know.
looking at him then, trousers freshly scuffed on one knee with mud where you supposed he must’ve knelt to slash your tyre, your head suddenly felt heavy and your breath came short.
you were just confused. they were so kind to you, understanding, and now elliot was hurt and something in your gut told you they were involved, too casual in the face of such a graphic injury and accusation.
kyle was eerily quiet as you slowly started to piece it together. you swallowed nervously.
“what— what’s going on, kyle?”
“it’s nothing you need to worry about, love,” he said softly. “come on, come inside with me and johnny’ll sort out elliot.”
it felt weird hearing him say your husband’s name for the first time, especially in this situation. it raised your hackles when you’d have thought it would ease your worry.
“aye, just a spot of bad luck, nothing we can’t fix,” johnny said as he edged closer.
“get in the fucking car, what are you waiting for?” elliot yelled.
“don’t do it, love,” kyle warned.
you shook your head and scrambled for the front seat, locking the door behind you. it had been years since you last drove; moving to london meant it wasn’t necessary and on the odd trips you took with elliot he’d always insisted on driving. pushing on the pedals now felt like learning anew, especially with the flat.
kyle and johnny watched you reverse with frowns on their faces, arms crossed and stood tall.
“speed up, fucking hell, get on the main road already before they catch up,” elliot hissed, eyes wild.
the gears grinded as you tried to speed up down the short road that led to their house, the steering wheel fighting against you on the uneven road and flat tyre. you glanced in the rear view mirror at elliot’s words, worried they were already on your tail but they were still stood still.
you wondered briefly if they really were just trying to help when you suddenly spun out on the gravel leading up to the barn.
your head smacked into the wheel as the car slammed to a stop against the fence and you groaned as you sat up, panting and clinging uncomfortably tight to the steering wheel as you tried to blink the stars from your eyes and gather your bearings. everything was going too fast, the afternoon turned upside down so quick.
elliot clambered out of the car, limping towards the barn without giving a second look back towards you. with weak hands you pushed open the door and followed him, shaken but uninjured.
you followed him into the barn and he slammed the door behind you, slotting the latch down as though that would do much good to keep anyone out for long.
“that man, price, he tried to shoot me,” elliot whispered, fresh tears mixing with the blood on his cheek. “when i fought him he punched me and then hit me with the gun. i had to run for my life, i think ive bloody broken this ankle, if it wasn’t already.”
“what do we do?” you asked, voice wobbly and quiet. “where can we go? they’re— they’ll be outside already.”
“we need to hide,” he said. you clenched your eyes shut. that didn’t sound like much of a plan.
“what if kyle and johnny aren’t in on it?” you asked hopefully. if they weren’t that gave you more options to escape price at least.
elliot went to speak but the sound of another door opening had you freezing in place like deer. you’d not thought about other entrances, not thought about how you’d come in a completely different door when you’d visited marmite.
hide, elliot mouthed before diving behind a pile of boxes, covering himself with the loose corner of tarpaulin.
you moved further back into the barn and watched as johnny came in to view. he whistled as he let his eyes wander around the large barn, winking across to marmite.
“where could he be, marm? eh?” he asked rhetorically, stopping beside elliot’s hiding spot. you noticed belatedly that the awkward way your husband held his ankle to ease the pain meant it stuck out glaringly, his expensive trainers clear as day.
you wanted to call out, give him a chance to make a break for it, but your voice failed you and you watched as johnny stomped his heavy boot onto elliot’s ankle.
you sobbed at the scream he let out as it echoed in the barn. shivering at the pain in his voice as you muffled your own cried behind your palm.
johnny yanked him out of his hiding spot and dragged him back outside through the open door, laughing at elliot’s gasps and whines of pain.
you spotted a shovel opposite you and grabbed it following close behind, careful not to make any noise. you raised the shovel high with gritted teeth, ready to swing, when kyle’s arms wrapped around you, tight and restricting.
he stole the makeshift weapon from your hands too easily and threw it out of reach as johnny watched with wide, impressed eyes focused on you, elliot whimpering at his feet.
one second you were struggling in kyle’s grip and the next you were winded, wrestled to the ground at johnny’s feet with kyle pressed to your back.
“ready t’watch, hen?” johnny asked gleefully, kicking elliot out of his feral position before kneeling over him. he glanced at you to make sure you were watching and kyle’s broad palm came up to cup your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks to make sure you were facing towards them.
“doin’ this f’r you,” johnny said earnestly before bringing his fist down in a heavy punch, hitting elliot’s cheek hard enough it recoiled into the solid ground below him.
you watched with bleary eyes as johnny beat your husband until his face was sunken, didn’t blink as he grabbed a nearby rock to continue until elliot’s arms stopped prying at johnny’s chest and face and his breaths eventually stilled.
“please stop, please, you’re hurting him, please stop.” you hadn’t realised you’d been mumbling, begging and pleading, while johnny’s hands dripped red.
“you’re ok, pretty,” kyle cooed against your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin like light kisses.
he nuzzled your cheek where his thumb dug into the squishy flesh as you heard footsteps.
“need help cleaning up?” price asked.
“only this one as planned, sir,” johnny said as he pushed himself back onto his feet, groaning at the pressure on his knee.
“could’ve been a bit cleaner about it,” kyle complained.
“you saw how he was treating her?” price confirmed. “right then. and you’ve both spent time with him alone, know he’s fucking insufferable.”
gaz huffed a short breath through his nose. “being polite with that one, cap.”
“i think i did well lasting the full mornin’ with him,” price said haughtily, grabbing your husband by the collar and hefting him up halfway off the ground while johnny grabbed one of his arms to help. “let him run this far, did ya?”
“was fun watching him tire himself out,” kyle said and you clenched your hand trapped beneath your body.
“doesnae matter now, the jobs done,” johnny said. “we can fix this.” he waved to you and kyle and you shivered.
kyle eased up on your back and let go of your face as you watched them drag elliot’s body towards the back garden and the woods, presumably where the shallow grave they'd prepared for him was.
“right, love,” he started, and you took advantage of his slip in concentration and the looser hold to swing your elbow up and back into his face. he reared back and you rolled him off of your hips the rest of the way, scrambling up onto your feet and sprinting away as soon as you were free.
“fucking hell,” he swore loudly.
you didn’t dare look back, already feeling like your steps were too slow already as you aimed for their car instead of your own.
you imagined finding their keys magically in the ignition or in the drivers seat visor and being able to drive off without a bump, find help and—
you were suddenly hit from the side, johnny's full weight heaved into yours as he shoulder barged you against their car door so roughly your head bounced off of the truck’s window with a crack.
your knees crumbled on impact, all strength leaving your body and replaced with pain as you slumped to the floor.
your vision swam as he laughed excitedly and crouched before you. “fucking’ wily one, you, hen,” he crowed and reached out to pat your face. “c’mon, up ye get.”
he hefted you up, gripping you under your arms even as you tried to wiggle away, pain flashing across your eyes when you moved your head too quick.
“christ almighty, yer stunning,” he gushed. he opened the door with one hand and slipped in backwards, leaving his feet planted on the edge of the door as he dragged you to lean over the seat and his lap until your toes were just scraping the ground. “such a beautiful wife.”
you whined at the uncomfortable position, the pressure the edge of the seat put on your tummy, but you couldn’t move due to how harsh his grip on your arms was as he rested your head in his lap. “lemme go,” you groaned.
he scratched lightly at the back of your neck and grinned at the goosebumps that flared up.
he’d only just gotten you settled fully into position when you felt a second pair of hands at your arse. you jolted in his grip, but the firm body behind you stopped you from moving too far. pressed completely between them like a pinned butterfly.
kyle didn’t hesitate once he saw you were unable to move far, didn’t bother to ease you into it, snaking one hand to your front to release the button on your jeans and then pulling both your jeans and pants over your arse to tangle at your knees. he palmed at the bare skin revealed, nudging a knee between your thick thighs when you tried to kick back at him.
“fuck you,” you seethed. “get the fuck off of me.”
“you don’t have to play pretend anymore, love, elliot’s not here to get mad,” kyle said. he squeezed your hips and groaned. “fucking hell, bet you’re wet already, drooling in johnny’s lap like that.”
you gritted your teeth and tried to gain some firmer footing but the shift of your legs only encouraged the pair and the breeze against your pussy had you tensing.
“oh baby, you’re really desperate for it, yeah?” kyle cooed meanly. he lifted his hand to johnny, sticking two fingers out. “get these wet for me, eh, soap?”
you couldn’t look up from how johnny held you close, but you felt him lean forward, heard the eager, wet noises as he sucked at kyle’s fingers with abandon.
kyle pulled them free with a slick pop and trailed them between your legs, slipping one inside your pussy even as you winced at the too-dry stretch, johnny's spit not lending enough give to kyle’s long finger.
“gonna thank us for getting rid a’him?” johnny asked, squeezing your neck.
you felt your lips wobble and hid further into his lap. feeling humiliated as they laughed. endeared by your cowed behaviour.
gaz was quick to get with the program, knowing he wouldn't get much further and slipped his finger free with a gentle shush in your ear. he tilted your hips up and wedged his arm between you and the car seat, planted his spit-slick fingers over your clit instead and rubbed in sharp circles until you were squirming.
“there ya go,” johnny said. “that’ll do ‘er.”
“shh, be a good girl for us,” kyle grunted. “c’mon, don’t fight it, love, make it easy on yourself.”
you felt your hips twitch against his hand as he focused meanly on your clit until your pussy was clenching and creaming around nothing.
you let out a ragged gasp, your voice breaking as kyle continued to pinch and play with your throbbing clit for a moment longer until you felt a whine build in the back of your throat. you clenched your teeth to hold it back and pushed your face into johnny's solid thigh.
when kyle saw your resistance he ran his fingers lower until they met the hot slick leaking from your cunt and grinned with accomplishment up at his husband.
“don’t worry love, it’ll feel good. i’ll make sure of it,” kyle promised against the sensitive skin of your neck.
he slipped his finger in again, easier this time, and followed it too quickly after with a second. you groaned at the stretch, your hot panting breaths damp against johnny’s tented trousers. the instinct to bite his cock through his jeans and not let go like an untrained dog flashed through your mind as the start of an escape plan, but johnny gently stroked the apple of your cheek and it distracted you enough to lose the thought and chicken out last minute.
“no need t’worry, bonnie. ahm no’ gonna make ye take my cock at the same time, not today,” he said soothingly. “ah know how overwhelming two at a time can be.”
you felt sick as you identified the feeling blooming in your chest as relief and gratefulness. felt worse when you thought it could just be pure pleasure as kyle’s fingers learned the shape of you.
“so bloody tight, don’t know how i’ll fit, johnny,” kyle complained good-naturedly, a sly smile plastered across his face.
“she’s made fer it, gaz,” johnny insisted, mumbled a gruff, our good girl as he looked down at you. “test her out already.”
“no,” you whined, knowing he’d barely gotten his third finger in.
kyle took johnny’s encouragement as blanket permission and pulled his fingers free, chuckling at the rhythmic clenching of your pussy.
“christ if you could see this, john,” he said with awe. “look at that pretty pussy, just begging for me. eager to please, aren’t you?”
you tensed at the sound of a zipper, thrashed when you felt the head of his cock push between your glistening lips, slicking it up not nearly enough before he prodded a little more insistently.
your hands gripped at johnny’s leg and the car seat as he pushed the head in, your brows furrowed as he panted behind you.
“there ye go, hen, give it all t’him,” johnny cooed, eyes molten as he watched kyle fuck into you for the first time.
“need to try your arse next time if this is how tight your pussy is,” kyle moaned. he pushed in a little further and you whined, sucking in a sharp breath when he pulled back out again. johnny chuckled, lifting one hand to wrap around kyle’s neck, his thumb petted softly at his adam’s apple as kyle bit his lip and leant into the pressure.
he thrusted in and out slowly, going deeper with each push back in and testing your resolve as you tried to bite back your sounds.
“let us hear ye,” johnny pouted, pulling his hand back to push two fingers into your mouth. he held it hinged open on kyle’s next thrust and you let out a deep gargled noise.
kyle huffed, his cock leaking pre inside you.
“how’s she feel, garrick?”
“like sin,” he sighed. “tightened up as soon as you got your fingers in her mouth.”
“dirty little slut,” johnny said, delighted. “maybe not so much our good girl after all.”
your orgasm crept up on you, focused as you were on staying quiet and still, when kyle’s hand drifted from where he’d been palming your arse it barely took a moment of attention to your clit to have you reeling.
“there we go, fuck. look at that,” kyle groaned as you tightened up, a flood of slick leaking out with every pull of his cock and gathering at his pubes on the thrust back in. “give it to me.”
you gasped and moaned around johnnys fingers, drooling down his palm and into his lap. you saw through hazy eyes how his cock jumped in its confines, eager for attention and the pleasure gaz had described.
kyle moaned, his thrusts getting rougher, uneven. “keep cumming, love, take it.”
“fucking temptation incarnate,” johnny whispered as you pushed back into kyle’s hand and cock trying to prolong your own pleasure.
kyle folded over you and thrust in his cock hard and shallow, hips bruising your butt cheeks as he groaned. he stilled and you felt the flood of his cum settle deep and heavy, a sudden spark of anxiety kicking through your afterglow.
you didn’t acknowledge the part that gleefully thought of the possibility of a baby, finally.
you shivered, slumped in johnny's lap as he held you up when gaz slipped out, whistling in appreciation at the sight of the pair of you. you felt gaz lightly tap his cockhead against your butt cheek with a wet plap before he tucked himself away again.
“don’t let it drip,” johnny reminded gaz before too much of his cum could dribble out of your puffy hole. kyle was gentle as he tugged up your pants, even when he patted the gusset crudely before bending low for your jeans. he pulled you back up against his chest as johnny shuffled forwards and out of the truck cab, plastering himself to your front once he was on the ground.
you ducked your head to avoid his kiss and he chuckled. “still so shy after tha’?”
they shuffled you back to the farmhouse, pressed so close to your sides that it made it impossible for you to lose your footing, both of them keeping you upright even as your legs felt like jelly.
they got you laid down in their bed, the room closer to yours and elliot’s than you’d realised.
it felt like a herculean task keeping your eyes open despite the mid-afternoon sun shining through the window. if you could bring yourself to string more than two thoughts together you’d think it was the shock or the adrenaline crash. but for the moment you could only think about how pretty gaz looked stood at the corner of the bed smiling or how warm johnny felt kneeling between your legs.
at the feeling of your jeans being removed again, you frowned.
“what’re y’doin’?” you slurred, a second away from passing out.
“shh, bonnie,” johnny whispered. “y’r fine.”
you felt his fingers tease at the opening of your cunt, playing with the cum trickling out, tacky and sticky where some had dribbled down your thighs.
he groaned and stuck his fingers in his mouth as kyle laughed.
you drifted in and out, barely registering the feeling of his cock rubbing through the mess and nudging at your clit, his own leaking pre only adding to the smooth glide.
you passed out finally to the feeling of his teeth at your neck, his groans in your ear and kyle’s eyes watching over you both fondly.
---
you woke up slowly, your head thumping and it took you a moment to recall where you were and what had happened. you sat up slowly and saw you were alone in their room.
you cringed at the dried cum between your legs and the way your skin stuck to itself and the sheets. if it wasn’t for the physical proof crusting on your skin and the smell of their aftershaves on the duvet, you think you might’ve been able to convince yourself none of it had happened.
your threw back the duvet when you were sure they weren’t about to jump out at you and grabbed your trousers from the floor.
you hesitantly pushed open the door to the left of the room and found an en suite bathroom.
with a sigh of relief you closed and locked it behind you and started cleaning yourself up in the sink with hurried movements. a shower would've been preferable but you weren’t willing to risk the noise or the time, so scrubbing away the cum, sweat and tears with your hands and some soap would have to do.
it took all of your energy to keep yourself calm as you felt sticky globs of cum drip from inside you and replace what you’d just cleaned on the inside of your thighs.
you got dressed hastily and peeked out of the window to try and spot johnny or kyle prowling outside. when you saw no sign of either, you held your breath and cracked open the bedroom door. when they didn’t appear from nowhere waiting to catch you trying to leave, you crept down the creaky stairs, sucking in a tight breath as if it could make you lighter and the stairs any quieter.
you cringed as you made it down and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the kitchen empty.
your eyes zeroed in on the knife block and you scampered over to it and grabbed the biggest one, sufficiently sharp.
you snuck out the back way to avoid the sound of your trainers on the gravel out front; given your last escape attempt you figured they’d have their car locked and keys kept safe so there was no point attempting the cars again at the front and you weren’t sure you’d be able to outrun them all the way to the main road out in the open. whereas the forest out back would provide enough cover for you to make your way to… well, you didn’t really know where, part of you thought you could maybe find their elusive neighbour while another thought you’d more likely get lost in there trying.
better the devil you know, the traitorous voice whispered.
you shook your head and looked around frantically, your head on a constant swivel as you jogged across the garden, eyes peeled for a hint of any of the three of them. you slowed as you neared the veg plot to the right and the open grass and shed to the left.
you headed left, despite the lack of cover it proved, it was closer to the woods trail you knew and although there was nowhere for you to hide it meant there was also nowhere for them to be lying in wait, unlike all the tall climbing veg you’d originally been impressed by on your first day.
“think we should probably ring him later to see—“
you span around at the sound of their voices drifting on the wind, and saw them making their way from the front of the house. panicking, you jumped towards the nearest hiding spot - the little shed.
it was unlocked, but you were too worked up to wonder were the thick lock you’d seen days prior had gone. despite the sun shining through the little windows, it was dark in the little shed. you cursed not having your phone on you for the light but figured you’d have not wanted to garner the attention either way.
you could tell it was clean from the smell, whatever was stored in there was well looked after. shelves were pushed against the back and right side of the shed, full of boxed items.
johnny’s sister’s items, you remembered.
you stepped forward quietly, dropping the knife onto a lower shelf when a stack of photo albums caught your eye. you picked one up at random and flicked it open to find a picture of soap and gaz, younger and stood in their fatigues. You flicked further in and saw another of them in their civvies, then a third of them in their wedding suits.
why wouldn’t they keep this in their house?
the next book answered your question as you looked at kyle and johnny wrapped around a woman in a wedding dress. you paused, your breath hitching before you looked at the next few photos quicker, the unknown woman was dressed casual for a few pages, then replaced by a third unknown man in a suit.
there were less photos of him dressed casually before he was replaced by another woman in the same dress as before; then another, a man in a suit. they kept changing, never lasting more than ten pages in the albums as kyle and johnny got older through the photos.
their third never reappeared once they’d disappeared.
you breathed in shakily, understanding that you weren’t their first, likely wouldn’t be their last if they caught you trying to escape again. christ, how many were like you that would be killed before they were forced to put on the wedding dress or suit.
you put the book back with shaking hands and grabbed your knife again. you weren’t going to sit there and wait for them to come looking for you, but you’d foolishly gotten distracted and hadn't heard where they’d gone when you were looking at the photos. you pressed close to the door and held you breath while listening out for them on the other side.
when it had been quiet for long enough for your legs to feel tired, held rigidly still in the cold shed, you pushed opened the door slowly and stepped out. you stopped mid step when you saw kyle and johnny sat patiently at their garden table just opposite, staring at you with wide smiles.
“mornin’,” johnny called across and you reflexively brought up the knife in front of you.
“what’s the knife for?” kyle asked, amused, his lips pulling up at one side as he glanced at it lazily. “got the jitters, love? it’s normal, i still get butterflies and we’ve done this how many times now, johnny?”
“countless. but ah’ve got a good feeling about this one.” johnny’s grin turned salacious as he looked you up and down.
“me too.” kyle let his smile spread.
you stared for a moment, debating running. “what are you going to do to me?”
kyle’s grin stretched and he dipped his head to take a drink of his tea to hide it, laughing a little at your shaking hands.
“it’s our wedding day hen, you forget already?” johnny cooed.
you frowned, gripped the knife tighter.
“price was good enough to agree to officiate today instead of the end of the week, last minute changes cannae be helped though,” he added with an easy shrug. “hopefully simon’ll be able t’make it too.”
“the cake…” you mumbled, feeling betrayed at how many people they had in on it. how long they’d planned this and played pretend with you.
“she caught on quick. smart one this time, think we’ve made a good choice.” gaz stood as he spoke to johnny causing you to stiffen in unease. you lifted the knife up high in front of you again where it’d dropped to your side.
“now now, come on. you think you know what you’re doing with that, love? think you could kill me if you had to? johnny too?”
you stared at johnny behind kyle’s shoulder; the picture of relaxed, but you could see how sharp his eyes were as he watched you threaten his husband.
“sas, remember? even if you did manage to knick me, and that’s a big if, love, johnny would have you laid flat before you had a chance to blink. he’s broad but he’s bloody quick even with the knee.” he pointed to your bruised temple as he took another step. “but you’ve already experienced that. let’s just think about what you want to do here, yeah?”
frustration welled inside you and you blinked as tears ran down your cheeks. “i want to go home,” you whispered.
gaz smiled softly, the mean glint in his eyes gone when he nodded. “we can do that.”
“you just have to put down the knife first, hen.”
you shook your head, working yourself up as you felt your fight or flight turn to freeze as you stared them down another minute longer, desperate to find a way out.
gaz took another step and you swiped desperately to stop him from getting too close, but flinching back yourself when johnny barked out a sharp, “hey!”
gaz ducked out your reach but lifted his arm under yours to control its trajectory, elbowing you in the nose with his other arm. you felt a crunch and stumbled back, the knife falling from your grip and into kyle’s.
“guhh!” your hands flew up to your aching nose as you gasped, the pain sharp and ferocious, pinpointed to your sinuses as you bent forward to instinctively protect your face.
“ah shit.” you heard kyle sigh.
“bit bloody rough, garrick,” johnny chastised as he finally came closer, kneeling before you, keeping one hand tight on your calf to keep you close as the other gently, but insistently wheedled your hands away from your messy face.
“used to manhandling you aren’t i, soap?” kyle groused, but sending you worried looks all the same. he stepped away to drop the knife on the table, grabbing the small tea towel they’d had folded next to their plates and handing it to soap when he got close again.
you hissed as johnny cleaned you up as best he could with the scratchy cloth, sucking in a ragged breath through your mouth and gagging at the rancid taste of your own blood.
they herded you back to the farmhouse and sat you in kyle’s lap in the kitchen.
you took a sick satisfaction when he grunted at your weight on his legs, but the firm squeezing of your hips had you wiggling away. his grip was firm however and he kept you from hovering above him as johnny wiped at your nose with a wet rag.
“this is gon’hurt, cannae lie t’ya,” he said as he cupped either side of your face, his thumbs pressed along your nose. “wee bastard broke it, but i’ll make it good as new.”
kyle grumbled and johnny huffed, corrected himself. “wee bonnie bastard.”
you whimpered and jerked in kyle’s hold when johnny pushed it back into place, wiping it down once more.
“ye play nice and forgive each other, now, yeah?” he ordered. “close contact always helps w'that i've found.”
gaz nuzzled in close at that, hummed against your cold skin. “i’m sorry, baby. been a while since we played with someone so delicate.”
you stayed silent and johnny tilted your head to get a better look at your nose with the bleeding slowed down.
“looks good as new, bonnie,” he confirmed, ducking down to kiss you.
you winced when his nose knocked yours and felt his grin against your pursed lips.
suddenly, deliriously, you thought of the wedding photos they’d want to take. they’d be ruined, you thought with glee.
you told them so and watched as gaz pouted over your shoulder. johnny hummed.
“we have plenty of time to make memories together,” he settled on saying finally.
“you’re better than they were,” gaz agreed. “you’ll be better.” last longer, went unsaid.
you shook your head but they ignored it as they pulled you to stand up between them.
“now, you better start getting ready, price will be here soon and so should simon. we want to get this done quickly so we can get to the good part,” gaz said.
“consummating the marriage,” johnny winked.
you let them guide you back to your room where you saw the wedding dress laid on the bed, matching shoes on the floor set neatly.
sat on the bed next to the dress you ran your hand over the silky material, the intricate sewing and beading.
your head pounded, the injury from what you now knew was the day before and now the nose had your ears ringing. you grabbed the glass of water from the side table and downed it, uncaring if it was from two nights ago, suddenly parched as you thought of the amount of tears you’d shed.
when you could finally bring yourself to put on the dress you marvelled at the fit, the way the material looked draped over your curves.
like the sisterhood of the travelling pants but for two psychos’ fucking wedding, you thought and snorted.
you were truly connected to all their victims before you now.
you slipped on the shoes and let yourself hide your face in your hands as your hope finally crumbled. this was happening and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.
christ, whether it was the bump to the head or maybe elliot’s treatment for the last few years had done a worse number on you than you’d realised, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this would still be better than how you’d be living in london.
you wiped your face and headed for downstairs. it was like a sick repeat of the night you’d all gone out as they cooed and fawned over you when you got to the bottom. and once more you liked it.
liked it the same way you’d liked their attention every time they focused on you, complimented you. a slut just like elliot had spat. like johnny had moaned.
you swallowed thickly and hid your shaking hands behind your back.
they led you outside and you took the time to try and think of elliot’s face as he was beaten to death not twenty-four hours before; hoping to get a wake up call from these tumultuous, traitorous feelings. but you could only think of the lipstick mark on his neck and the photos of his cock on his phone that you knew he’d never sent to you, the texts he’d hide, the video you’d finally found of him fucking another woman.
you thought about how kind and gentle kyle and johnny had been over the last few days and bit your cheek harshly. switched to thinking of johnny using you while you slept, kyle taking you half inside their car, but it didn’t horrify you like you’d expected it to.
the gut clenching panic you’d expected to feel was absent as you remembered the feeling of their hands on you and instead you were ashamed to feel yourself grow wet.
were you so fucked up, so lonely and starved that you were going to willingly ‘marry’ these men and let them treat you like that?
if you took a moment to think about it, were they even a step up from elliot?
you looked up and ahead and saw price get out of his car, a genuine smile puffing up his cheeks as kyle waved. you assumed the ceremony would be starting soon enough.
kyle leant in to kiss your temple and johnny removed his hand from your shoulders and instead took yours in his own with an excited squeeze.
well, you knew the answer to the first question at least.
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honeybelljar · 27 days ago
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Wicked Hands
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Wicked Hands Upon Me (oneshot)
// You live at the edge of town, withdrawn from the claws of society and pressures of others, no husband, no family, you spend your days barefoot in your small garden, yet you feel eyes upon you…//
wc: 4304 :: remmick x f!reader :: MDNI :: not beta read so sorry for mistakes!:: (also I love this movie so much! seriously best thing I have ever seen, the barn dance scene has had me tearing up!)
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Moist dirt pushed through the gaps of your toes, the hem of your thin nightgown stained dark. The plants needed watering before the crest of the Mississippi sun came blazing over the tree line. Much to your dismay, a lazy grumble sat in the back of your throat as you stretched. Water spews out of the metal watering can. You could practically hear your plants cheering. With how damn hot it has been, you were shocked they weren’t shriveled and dried to nothingness.
Crows cawed amongst the morning mist, the subtle hum of cicadas preparing their day-long screaming. It was comforting in a way of familiarity. It was the same every morning: watering, checking the chickens, and finally breakfast. A simple routine that brought you a small amount of peace. Living out here on your own tended to become bitter, some even going out of their minds. Most were unable to handle the heavy full silence of just nothing.
The chicken pen closed with a slam, and you dusted a few stray feathers from your dress. The weight of a dead bird felt like a ton in your hand. Death was always uncomfortable, even with animals. Squeezing your eyes shut, you reeled your arm back and tossed the limp body past your property. Nature would take its primal course. Crusted blood flaked on your hands, you would need to fix that wire fence, especially since the chickens could now potentially get stuck.
Death aside, breakfast was creeping into your disturbed mind. Dead chicken aside, your hens had laid a few more eggs. With the eggs safely cradled in a muddied night gown, you headed into the creaking house.
Days blended into one another, but nights were unique. The air changed once the sun set; it was heavier, more charged. As if something was alive within the woods around. Your crooked wooden house sat like a beacon in the void. Protection was a serious matter; you were a young, unmarried woman. It would be stupid to not know the risks. Two heavy shotguns sat mounted on the wall, just beside the front door. Just the weapons being there felt as if they were guarding you. It eased the paranoia just a bit, where on summer nights you get comfortable enough to open the screen door and listen to your gramophone.
You’d cook up some dinner while music softly drifted through the house. You only owned a few records because of how expensive they were, but they never failed to make you smile. Humming, you spun around with your apron. Your bare feet thumping against the wood floors. You were so lost in the rhythm, you almost didn’t hear the soft knock against the door frame. Frowning, you froze. Your head snapped towards the screen door. The only thing that separated you and the desolate void outside. Porch lights weren’t a necessity typically, but now you could see the appeal.
Taking a cautious step towards the door, your eyes slid to the shotgun. It was too dark to see any figure, which was most definitely a knock. However, this house was old and practically falling apart. Your shoulders dropped a bit, maybe that was it.
Knock Knock.
Your stomach dropped. Someone all the way out here? You were over ten miles from town. Who could possibly be out here? Fists clenched, you took another step towards the door and the shotgun. The tension tightened in your spine as you neared the screen door. Through the metal, you could see what appeared to be a man. His clothes worn and dirtied, suspenders slipping from his broad shoulders. His features were shaded in shadow. He stood just on the first stair of the porch, just a the tip of the darkness that surrounded him. If he took one step back, he would probably disappear from your sight.
“Can I help you…?” You called out, hand now tightly gripping the cool metal of the gun by your side.
A heavy beat passes before he speaks up.
“Aw I’m awfully sorry for botherin’ you ma’m-“
“State your business or get on.” You spit out, venom leaking out of every word. The bone of your teeth squeaked under the pressure you clamped down. Every fiber in your being alight and tense, ready to be on guard.
The middle of the night was no time for pleasantries; a strange man in the odd hours meant trouble. His smile never dropped, as if your rudeness didn’t faze him in the slightest. His hands raised in apology. Expression twisted up in a strange combination of pain and poignancy.
“Apologies ma’am, I was just wonderin’ if you could give a traveler some food, is all…” His accent was thick, yet there was a hint of something foreign. Your brow ticked, the gun still grasped in your hand. His voice was ragged as most were down here, but there was a hint of curve on certain words. Unfamiliar.
“Where you from?” You jut out, eyes now sliding down his person. You just noticed the strung-up banjo resting on his back. A man of music never had good intentions; you could practically hear your daddy yapping.
“Hah-“ He huffed a laugh, the noise tinged with disbelief, shocked you'd even ask such a thing, “Somewhere far away, darlin’”
His answer only made your brow furrow deeper, yet he made no move to come closer. Even in the darkness, you could spot the subtle movements of anxiety within him, the gripping of his trousers, the cracking of his fingers. He was antsy. Fear bloomed in your stomach. This man was off.
“I ain’t got no food for you, you best be off, there’s a town just a few miles up the road.” You internally prayed he would take your decline and go; you had no desire to shoot him down where he stood. Violence wasn't a vice of yours, but this damn world forced everyone's hand at least once. Maybe tonight was the night you'd take your first life.
The man shifted on his feet, the silence between you heavy again. Almost as if it were awaiting what direction this would go. You awaited his next move with bated breath. Please, please, please, you internally chanted.
“You alone?”
Fuck. Your stomach dropped through the floor. Lie.
“No, my husband is just resting.” The fib slipped seamlessly through your bared teeth.
“Lies.” He rasped, taking a slow, calculated step closer onto the porch. His features now washed in the soft glow from within your home. He was handsome, but his eyes reflected. Too much so. Almost like a gator, a predator. The curve of his lips felt like a threat.
“N-no, honest, he is quite possessive, so you'd best be leaving…” Blood rushed through your ears, your chest practically clenching with the thunderous beats of your heart. Not even realizing you had subconsciously taken a step backward.
“Is he?” His voice was thick with something unspoken. He inhaled, throwing his head back. You could see the darkened veins protruding past his pale skin. A soft, unsteady sway to his body. Uncanny in a way that almost felt as if it was mimicking someone's movements.
“Y-yes, he-“ He interrupted your lie by taking another step forward. Shortening the distance between the two of you. The man was now no more than a foot away.
“L-listen darlin’- I’m starvin’ just let me on in, it can be our little secret.” He breathed, so honeyed and broken you felt your heart stutter. Why couldn't you breathe properly suddenly? Your throat felt tight and dry as the dirt below. His eyes tracked your movements, how your chest rose with heightened breath, the small part between your lips, and the clenching of that damn gun in your calloused hand.
"Oh, he doesn't have to know now, does he?" The tease is nothing more than a breath, hushed between the two of you.
“I’m-“ You faltered. What could you say? You shook your head, words failing you. The closer he got, the more you could there was something deeply wrong about this man. His pupils were larger, his skin decorated in a sheen of sweat, his lips cracked and bloodied. He shook like a leaf, as if he were ill. You didn’t notice before, but his knees kept buckling ever so slightly.
How did you not notice that before? So overcome by fear, you had failed to even assess the man properly. Now that you peered at him, the tremors in his hand were hard to miss. He did come here to ask for food; perhaps he was truly starving. He looked as much, at least.
“Are you sick?” You whispered. The wandering of your gaze was not unnoticed by the stranger. Illnesses weren’t uncommon, but many didn’t have access to a doctor, so they’d just die. It was important to avoid sickness when you were poor, which led you to grow a multitude of herbs in your garden. Maybe this traveller didn't have that privilege.
“It’s not the contagious type.” He breathed. His admission made an ounce of the fear vanish; the man was probably delirious and feverish. Which is probably why he thought it was acceptable to taunt a lady outside her home at night. His strange behavior could be chalked up to malnutrition and whatever sickness he had. It would be cruel to leave him to die out here.
“I can leave some food on the porch, that’s all I’m able to give.” You declared. The finality in your voice ran through the air. He nodded gratefully, a wobbly smile on his lips.
“I’d be eternally grateful.” He murmured. Seemingly slumping at your decision.
You were uncomfortable with the thought of losing him from your sight, but the kitchen was no more than five feet away. The gun was still locked within your hand as you messily scooped some stew into a bowl with one hand. The weapon felt strange in your grasp; you weren’t a fighter. The thought of using it sent a chill down your spine. But you would, if pushed, you’d pull that trigger without a second thought. As if to remind yourself.
Hurrying to the screen door with food, you panicked at the missing form of the man. Shit. Only to jump out of your skin when a pained groan erupted from the porch. You gaze shot down to see the man sprawled onto his back, an arm flung over his eyes. The white shirt was drenched in sweat more than before. He writhed on the floor, the illness probably wreaking havoc on his insides.
“S-sir?” You called out. He only whimpered in response, not even looking at you. Your teeth pushed into your bottom lip. This man was dying on your porch. Shakily, you stepped out to set the stew by his side before quickly retracting your body inside. Even if he wasn’t dangerous, you had no idea what this ‘not contagious’ illness was.
“Sir?” You tried again. He flung his arm away from his face, small pants leaving his lips. He looked paler than before, all color drained from his face and neck.
“W-what a shame such a pretty girl gotta see me this way…” He laughed weakly. A string of drool dripped off the side of his mouth. You tried not to stare. Heat flaring in your cheeks at the compliment. You snapped your gaze back to the floor.
“Can you eat?” You gestured to the small bowl of stew at his side. He grunted, craning his head upwards to peer at the food. A small grimace on his face.
“Anythin’ for you…” He coughed. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees to kneel in front of the stew. His back slumped forward, almost like it was too much energy to even hold himself up now.
You only watched from behind the partially open screen door as he drained the stew, slurping loudly. Not even bothering to use the bent spoon you’d stuck in there. Yet once he was done, he licked the bowl clean, slowly. His gaze never drifting away from you, it set a slow simmer just beneath your flesh. Noises of wet spit sending a shiver down your spine. You turned, interrupting the slickness you felt between your thighs. Inappropriate timing, this poor man was starving.
It had been too long since you’d been in the presence of man. Too long since you had someone to warm your bed, so that's why this was sending you sparks. That was all, just been celibate for too many years. The man slowly pushed the empty bowl towards you, his eyes still not straying. He kept low as if not to startle you.
“God bless ya…” He rasped. Thick and syrupy, it slipped through your veins. Thrumming through your body, you redirected your focus.
Bending down, you picked up his empty dishware and turned towards the kitchen, not noticing the way his gaze locked onto the switch in your hips. Or how he dug his nails into the rotted wood beneath him. Or how the drool just wouldn't stop, roping down towards the floor. You returned to the door with your apron off and a wash rag.
“It’s gettin’ late, wipe yourself down and good luck to ya…” The gun was now leaning against the wall, unneeded in your grasp. Although odd, he was just a man, a sick man.
He pushed up and began slowly lifting to his feet. You nodded and held out the wash rag between your fingers. Time seemed to stop as he stared forward at your hand. It poked through the threshold of the house, into the abyss of night. The prick of goosebumps bloomed on your skin, the hairs standing up at your nape. Then in a moment, it was gone. He softly took the rag and offered another nod.
"Appreciate you, ma'am." With that, he entered the dark void just down the steps. That unsteadiness gone, as was he. Clutching your night gown, you hurriedly slammed the door, locking it tight. Not so sick anymore suddenly? You shook your hand and snatched the gun to haul it up within the safety of your bedroom.
Yet, as you lay for sleep, red eyes plagued your mind and spirit.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
The next few nights pass without a hitch. No strange men, and luckily, the nightmares fade. You continue with your quiet life as if it never happened. However you did take one thing from that night, you needed to get fucked. If you were to the point that you were lusting after strange men who drool, then you needed a reset. Which meant heading into town.
It was late afternoon, and you were in your finest dress. The walk had been a little over two hours, and you utilized a red parasol to shade yourself from the blazing sun. It matched your dress, which you couldn't deny being a little proud of. The dress hugged at your hips then flittered around your knees, the best type for dancing.
People bustled around as usual, and it was always overwhelming when you did make the trip into town. Which wasn't often, every few months or so. People waved, some ran over to chat, and secretly 'check up' on the woman who lived alone and so far from town. You were sure there were countless rumors of why you chose to live such a way. Even so, it felt nice to converse for once.
After a few interruptions, you finally made it to your destination, a small club just at the end of an alleyway. A few people surround the entrance, and you give them a nod. One of the men holds out his hand, curling his fingers in expectation. Of course, nothing is free around here. Digging through your coin purse to pull out the fee. Then you're enveloped in thick smoke and dim lighting. It's sleazy, it's dirty, and full of cheats. Exactly why you are here, no respectable woman would ever dare come to this establishment. A few tables are spread out, groups play poker, some just lost in a bottle, others occupied with a woman filling their laps.
"Anything I can get ya, sweets?" A smooth voice calls out, and a handsome man behind the bar winks. A smile crawls up onto your lips, and you can't push back the feeling of butterflies. It's been way too long for you.
"Whatever you think is nice, sir." You hum, the excitement coursing through feels oh so right. The man laps at your words, leaning over the bar. His brown eyes are like honey and whisky. A nice stubble brushes his chin, tall and fit, what more could you ask for?
"Oh, I know a few things that are nice..." He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by your features. A chuckle escapes you at the clique remark. He will do nicely, you think to yourself. You had quite the itch to scratch, you wondered how nice that stubble would feel on your cunt.
•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•
The drive back to your home was a constant wave of unchecked lust and moaning. You two could barely keep your hands off one another, his touch igniting you in a way that felt distant. A few times, he even swerved when you palmed him through his jeans. It was well past dark now, the pink colors of the sunset washed away in that violet blue.
"It's here." You gestured to your quaint little home just off the road. He slowed, breaking into your yard. The car's rumbling halts.
"Shit, you weren't lying about livin' far from town..." He chuckled, you only nodded, and jumped out of the car. Far too excited to chat about such mundane things. Usually, you'd be on edge about bringing a man home, but Jack? No, no, Charles. He was well known around town for bang 'em and leave 'em. So your worries were slim to none.
"Come on." You smiled, gripping his hand and pulling him inside.
It's all hands. Gripping your hair, your ass, spreading you open. Lips suck the hollow of your neck, and you release a cry. That slick wetness filling the space between your panties. The blood roars in your ears as he sinks to his knees, bunching your dress up. Small pants punch out of him, and he looks enthralled. It's fast and sharp. Small bites litter your thighs as he works his way upwards towards your apex. Your head tosses back, gripping the wall for strength. Ever so slowly inching upwards, the warm, wet tongue sends spikes through your body. Your chest heaves as you stare down at him, eyes lidded and heavy. He is just about to touch your clit when a noise shatters the moment.
Knock knock.
Charles lifts his head, peering at the door, then at you.
"Expectin' company?" He rasps. Yet you can tell by his expression that he is annoyed. You huff, yanking your dress down and almost stomping to the door. The house rattles with how fiercely you yank it open, revealing no other but your sick pal from last week.
"Evenin' darlin, I just-" His gaze flickers behind you to Charles, still on his knees. You see his lips tighten, and in an instant, he flickers back to you, softening.
"Apologies, I didn't realize you had- uh, company." His body shifts, once again looking uncomfortable in his own skin. You glower, the overwhelming rage of being cockblocked clouds your judgement.
"I am quite busy, so please kindly fuck off my property." You spit, your gaze locked onto his unusual eyes. Charles says nothing behind you, and you are about to slam the door just as his foot catches it. His face is cold and expressionless, so much so that it makes you stumble back a bit.
"Ha, throwin' me out so suddenly? Where'd all that hospitality go, doll?" He taunts, and the urge to smash the door into his face rises within you. A lopsided smile found its place on his face again. How fast does this man's emotions switch?
"Dried up, now if you'll excuse me." You try again.
"This the husband you told me about?" He mocked. Charles froze just beyond your peripheral vision. Fuck.
"Husband?" Charles echoes, now standing and making his way closer. You grit your teeth. Two problems are quickly arising, and your arousal is drying up fast.
"No, I ain't got no husband, now fuck off." He feigns shock at your statement, clutching his chest. Charles looks past your shoulder at the man, his eyes darting between the two of you.
"No, you lied?" He gasps, you wonder if you could shut the door hard enough to break his foot. Would that even be enough to shut him up?
"Enough. You're interrupting." You growl out. You were over this petty show of dramatics. The stranger jolts back, his brow furrowed. As if what you said physically struck him.
"Well, please don't stop on my account!" His arms go wide, gesturing to both you and Charles. You frown, shaking your head.
"No, you need to leav-" Charles abruptly cuts you off.
"Hold on now, doll, if he ain't gonna leave, let's just continue..." Charles breathes, voice full of excitement. He brushes his hand through your hair, a soft grin on his handsome face. Huh? You blanch, what the fuck was he talking about? Your eyes flicker back to the stranger, his gaze now zeroed in on Charles beside you.
"I-" Charles' hand slides up your dress once again, and oxygen escapes you. In front of him? You nervously look to the stranger once again, he stands just at the threshold, fisting the sides of his trousers. Almost as if his grip was the only thing rooting him to the spot.
"Cmon baby, you came to me lookin' for some fun..." Charles purrs, those slick fingers sliding through your fold, testing and gently pulling. Your mouth falls open slightly, but your gaze never flickers down to Charles, only the stranger before you. It's like you're entranced and you can't shake the feeling you truly are.
"There you go, baby." Charles encourages as you absentmindedly give small thrusts to his dancing fingers. The stranger tilts his head, assessing each small reaction. For some reason, that has you clenching down onto Charles' fingers. Fuck.
"Here, get down onto the ground," Charles instructs, pressing you downwards onto the cool wooden floor. He is behind you, your dress now crumpled up past your ass. Yet, you can only stare at the stranger as he lowers himself with you, almost face to face. You can feel his breath from beyond the door. You aren't even paying any mind to Charles' belt clinking on the floor and spitting on his cock. All your breath has been stolen by the mysterious man.
"Uh-huh, there it is..." Charles groans, entering into you with a slow pulsing push. Your mouth drops again, and it feels heavenly. The sloppy thrusts echo within the entryway. The stranger before you is on his hands and knees, so desperate to press closer. His eyes are bright, shining so oddly, if you were in your right mind, you'd say something.
"Fuck!" Charles cries out, fucking you so good it has your eyes rolling. Sweat pours down your forehead, and you move back and forth with his punishing thrusts. It's liquid heat.
The stranger's breath is ragged, and the tent in his trousers is beyond noticeable. He leans a tad bit closer, his voice low, just for you.
"I could fuck you so nice darlin'" He drawls, the tone lazy and breathy. It sends pricks against your flesh like a live wire. You fall forward onto your arms, unable to keep your head up, the smack of skin like music to your ears.
"Cmon baby, I'd be so deep inside ya' you'd feel me for weeks..." It's practically a growl. As if he is threatening you. Misture hits your face and you blink, he is drooling, long, thick ropes fling at you. He smiles widely, fingers digging into the wood.
A whimper slips out of you at a particular angle, and you can't tear your eyes away from the sight before you. The man is on the ground, and he thrusts against the floor messily. It's intoxicating.
"Charl-" You moan out, but the stranger shushes you. A shaky finger raised to his spit-slick lips.
"Remmick doll, name's Remmick." You can only nod dumbly.
Remmick.
Remmick moans, throwing his head back and exposing the length of his neck. Had you moaned that out loud? Charles is paying the two of you no mind, just mindlessly thrusting, chasing his own high.
"Fuck Darling- you gon' make me cum in my pants whining like that." Remmick huffs out, and oh, how you wish you were outside with him right now. He lets out a delirious laugh and stares dead in your watering eyes. The friction is becoming too much, Remmick is becoming too much.
"I'm gon' kill that bastard behind you then I'll fuck you in his blood." He grits out, spitting on your face with the sheer force of his words. You tense all at once, that Earth-shattering feeling washing over you at his words. Promise? It's sick, but you can't stop from gushing around the cock inside you. Remmick groans at your expression, and Charles cries out. Seemingly unaware of the situation.
Boneless, you somehow find the strength to look up. Glowing red pupils stare back, fingers suddenly longer and sharper, the stench of death rises in the air. Your breath catches at the sheer vision of the devil in front of you. From this moment on, you knew this man, monster, would forever change your fate and alter your very existence.
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ecstxsyy · 4 months ago
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KISS ME. | E. DIAZ ❦
Eddie wants to try something new.
18+ mdni!
eddie diaz x fem!nurse reader
warnings: voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, cream pie.
cupid’s candy hearts masterlist
───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────
NOBODY CELEBRATED Valentine’s Day like the 118, or any holiday. They held community events for the public and decorated the firehouse from top to bottom. Red, pink, and white heart garland hung from the railings and little Cupid cutouts hung from the rafters in the ceiling.
Every year you helped them out with the decorating, your dating Eddie practically made you part of the firehouse. You designed concepts for themes every year, ordering them all around, because frankly, if it weren't for you and Hen, they’d have a hand-written banner and a plate of cookies for the community.
This year, you decided Cupid’s Workshop should be the theme. You had all the decorations made at a party supply store and sent Buck and Chimney to get the rest. Eddie was helping you hang up what you already had when the alarm rang throughout the station, all of the firefighters sprung into action immediately while you continued as if nothing was happening.
The chaos of the firehouse was nothing new to you, whenever you and Eddie worked opposite shifts it was basically your home.
Eddie jumped up to begin getting his gear when Bobby shouted to him,
“You can stay behind and help her, it’s not too big of a fire, we gotta get those decorations up fast,” Bobby said before taking off on the rig with the rest of the firefighters on shift.
Eddie sighed and turned back to the table full of decorations and glitter.
“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me,” you teased, elbowing his shoulder lightly. Eddie chuckled and looked around, moving to grab your hand and pull you upstairs towards the kitchen. Eddie checked the upstairs before pulling you into a deep kiss.
The kiss made you stagger a bit, you and Eddie were adventurous in bed but never anything like this. You kissed Eddie back for a brief moment before coming to your senses and pulling away.
“Eddie, we can’t. We’ll get caught,” you whisper yell at him, looking around to make sure nobody had decided to come up for a snack.
“Sure we can, you just gotta be quiet,” Eddie mumbled, feathering light kisses across your jaw, “You can do that for me, right?”
You scanned around one last time, a thrill running through you. You didn't know what to do, you wanted so badly to have Eddie bend you over every surface around you, but you were also terrified of being caught.
“But Edd-” You were cut off quickly by Eddie.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Eddie grumbled, pulling you in to kiss him again. This time, you relaxed, you let him take the lead and let your body melt into his. Your tongues clashed until eventually, you took Eddie’s into your mouth to suck on it. That always drove him crazy.
Eddie hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter, unbuttoning your jeans with speed; he slid them down your legs, your panties following suit. Eddie wasted no time, diving into your pussy immediately. He licked a long stripe up your folds, stopping at your clit to kitten-lick it slowly.
You loved it when Eddie ate you out, he was very skilled with his tongue and fingers. He dove in like a starved man, slurping loudly on your clit. Eddie teased your hole with his index finger, getting off on the way you whined every time he slid just the tip of it in just to pull it back out.
“Please, Eddie,” you begged.
“Please what, baby?” Eddie teased, sheathing his index and middle finger fully inside of you. Your hand flew to your mouth, catching the moans that threatened to tumble out. You would probably die of shame and embarrassment if you got caught.
Your orgasm soon washed over you in waves as you gripped the edge of the counter, fighting back every sound that would give away the sinful things the two of you were doing right under everyone’s noses.
Eddie rode you through your orgasm, your slick covering his chin. He stood and unbuckled his belt, he pulled his pants down just enough to get his cock out and slapped his tip on your sensitive clit. You jolted with every slap and he smirked, he loved the way you reacted to him.
Eddie slid his cock into you quickly, he didn't have the time to savor this the way he wanted to. Your quiet whines and moans were music to his ears, he couldn't wait to have you to himself later tonight.
The angle Eddie was thrusting into you sent his tip straight into your spongy g-spot, his fingers habitually found their way to your clit, rubbing quick small circles against the tiny bud. You could feel your second orgasm already beginning to hit you, your legs starting to tremble around his waist.
You came with a small squeak, biting your knuckles to keep yourself quiet. The tight clench of your pussy sent Eddie toppling over the edge after you, his breath coming out in small shudders as he pumps his load deep inside of you.
As Eddie finished cumming, the sound of the rig pulling back into the station sent you both into a panic. Both of your hands flew to pull your clothes back on and grab a bottle of Clorox wipes to wipe down the kitchen counter, once the two of you made sure you both looked normal, you grabbed some snacks that were supposed to be set up and walked down the steps to meet the crew.
“How did you two manage to not get anything done the whole time we were gone?” Hen questioned with a raised eyebrow. You and Eddie held up the snacks in your hands with a small smile.
“We had to run to the store to get more snacks for the kids,” Eddie lied, the both of you immediately returning to your previous stations decorating.
At least you didn't get caught.
───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────
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kedreeva · 4 months ago
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I didn't know peafowl also have incomplete dominant genes! I mainly know ball python genetics. Question, are there any incomplete dominant genes that are fine/mostly fine in het but cause health issues for the super/homo form? I can think of quite a few like that in ball pythons and a few dangerous genes in other common captive snakes.
The only incomplete dominants we have are white and white eye, where white is the total leucism gene and white eye is... either a form of pale leucism, or more likely a white spotting gene, we don't really know. The actual genome has not been mapped where the public can access it, and the mutations haven't been scientifically identified, so the genetics for them largely goes off of knowledge of genetics in general in combination with practical knowledge of what we see and how it travels and shows in the phenotype.
White shows white flights/throat latch in het form (most of the time, but it CAN be carried completely silently). White eye CAN turn some eye markings white (in the train's eye feathers), and some forms of it also cause "frosting" on the feathers where the color is diluted like it is in cases of pale leucism, where the bird looks like a window with a layer of frost covering it.
Pied is the only supposed dominant, where one copy and two copies looks the same in the phenotype, and (USUALLY) looks different from the wild type buuuuuuut it can also be carried completely silently, even in homozygous form. What people think of as a "pied" bird (by phenotype) is genetically a white/pied het (white and pied are alleles, the pied phenotype results from a bird that has one white and one pied gene).
Neither white nor white eye (nor pied) appear to have any deleterious health effects on the birds, aside from the fact that white feathers break down faster in the sun than dark feathers, so birds with more white tend to look rattier faster. Socially, white birds are sometimes rejected by colored birds, to the point where some hens have been noted to refuse mating from a white male if they can see other, colored males (even if they cannot reach the other males).
There ARE a few mutations associated with health problems. The only one that matches what you are asking about would be charcoal- where het hens can lay eggs, but homo hens do not, and for both sexes het birds do not seem to experience the same feather quality or shortened lifespan issues as homozygous birds.
The other deleterious mutations are "progressive pied" aka vitiligo (which isn't a morph, just an autoimmune issue that shows in the phenotype) which presents with autoimmune issues, and cameo which is OFTEN found with vision problems (which may or may not be directly linked with cameo, but cameo originally presented with birds that went blind a few years after maturity, and this problem was NOT weeded out properly before distribution, so cameos face a LOT higher instance of blindness than any other mutation). Fawn, in Australia, has been noted to face some of the same health complications cameo originally had (and may be or be an allele to cameo, given the similarity in phenotype), which if the mutations end up being the same or alleles may point to it being a problem, but that has yet to be proven or disproven.
There is a new, unnamed mutation in Denmark that causes weak feathers to the point the entire train "wilts" and makes the bird look like it is sopping wet, and it's unknown if the breeder will decide to perpetuate this monstrosity or not, and I don't know if heterozygous birds share that particular complication. Many are hoping the breeder doesn't breed more, but there's nothing anyone can do if he decides to go forward with it, outside of just avoid the mutation. Avoidance of mutations CAN cause a mutation to die out, as it did with Steel in Australia, but it's hard to get the "every mutation is precious and must be preserved" people on board with "some things are better left dead if it's not good for the animal."
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luvelola · 7 days ago
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night time routine on the farm
masterlist !
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as the sun lowers behind the hills, drenching the fields in golden light, the farm starts to quiet down. the animals settle. the wind softens. and inside the home — tucked behind acres of trees and fencing — a gentle rhythm begins.
🐐 outside: evening chores (6:30–7:15pm)
rafe is outside in sweats and boots, shirt half-tucked from dinner, with biscuit at his side. zara’s in her hoodie with rainboots on the wrong feet, skipping beside him. she helps scoop feed for the goats while rafe checks fencing and tops off water buckets.
miles handles the chickens — grumbling a little but serious about his job.
collects eggs into a worn basket, gently shoos princess peep (the mean hen) away from the nesting box, and checks that rufus, the red-feathered rooster, is in the coop.
meanwhile, shadow is on perimeter patrol, ears twitching at every sound, while biscuit watches the kids like a sleepy bodyguard.
by 7:15, the sun is kissing the hills. the animals are fed. coops locked. little boots are muddy. biscuit is muddy. rafe’s hands are muddy — and yn, watching from the porch with a dishtowel over her shoulder, is already shaking her head lovingly.
🛁 bath time & wind down (7:30–8:00pm)
inside, yn runs a warm lavender bath for zara, who always insists on bringing in a rubber duck and a glow stick like it’s a rave. she sits beside the tub, gently combing through her curls with conditioner and detangler while zara babbles about her “heart puff” and how she’s gonna grow wings one day.
in the other room, rafe helps miles rinse off after his “big boy shower” — miles hates washing his face but rafe makes it a game. tonight, he pretends the soap is “face armor for a goat knight” and miles shrieks laughing.
shadow curls up in the hallway while biscuit sprawls in front of the tub. peaceful guard duty.
📚 bedtime stories & lights out (8:00–8:30pm)
rafe reads to miles in bed — the same book. miles always makes rafe do the dragon voice. halfway through, he’s out, thumb in his mouth, one arm wrapped around butterscotch’s plush lookalike.
in zara’s room, yn reads a different book depending on the night. zara snuggles in with her unicorn nightlight on and whispers, “daddy did okay on my hair,” before drifting off.
🕯️ farmhouse quiet (9:00pm)
downstairs, it’s candlelight and soft music. rafe and yn share tea or wine at the kitchen table. shadow and biscuit are sprawled on the rug. the windows are open just enough to let in the crickets and the hush of wind through the trees.
rafe leans his head against yn’s shoulder and murmurs something low. sometimes flirty. sometimes tired. always tender. they talk about nothing and everything. he pulls her into his lap before they head upstairs.
🌌 last check (before bed)
rafe makes one final walk outside before locking the doors. flashlight in hand, he circles the coop, glances at the barn, pats biscuit who follows lazily. the goats are already curled up in hay. the chickens are roosting. the night is still.
inside, yn brushes her curls out, wraps them in a scarf, and waits for her husband to crawl into bed behind her.
miles sighs in his sleep. zara flips onto her side. the dogs snore.
and the farm goes quiet in the night.
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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago
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Writing Reference: 5 Symbols
for your next poem/story (pt. 5)
EGG
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The egg is as powerful in its symbolism as it is potent as a life-force.
The World Egg is a ubiquitous symbol for the egg from which the Universe is said to have hatched, an idea that appears in creation myths from all parts of the world: The Celts, Hindus, Egyptians, Greeks, Phoenicians, and many more all agree about this idea.
The form this cosmic hatching takes is variable though:
Often, the egg rises from primeval waters and is incubated by a bird; in Hindu belief, this is the Hamsa, a goose.
When the egg hatches, the yolk and the white become Heaven and Earth.
The Shinto tradition says that the Universe resembled a giant hen’s egg that broke open, with the heavier parts becoming the Earth and the lighter, the Heavens.
There is also a theory that the entire Universe is contained in a huge egg that stands upright.
The egg is a symbol of new life, and this idea is borne out with chocolate eggs at Easter, which in itself is a celebration of the pre-Christian fertility Goddess, Eostre, who also gives her name to the hormone estrogen.
The subsequent celebration of Christ’s death and resurrection meant that the egg kept its significance as a symbol of new life and hope.
Archeologists have found clay eggs in Russian burial sites, reinforcing the belief in the egg as a symbol of immortality and of rebirth.
In alchemy, the Philosopher’s Egg symbolizes the seed of spiritual life, and depicts the place wherein a great transformation takes place.
The ancient riddle of what came first, chicken or egg, was deftly if disappointingly answered by Angelus Silesius, who said: The chicken was in the egg and the egg was in the chicken.
FEATHER
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The Egyptian Goddess of truth, Ma’at, has the ostrich feather as her attribute. There is a very specific reason for this:
Because the ostrich is a flightless bird, the design of its feathers is different to those of other birds where one side is larger than the other.
The ostrich feather, however, is perfectly balanced and symmetrical, and so is a fitting emblem of justice.
Its symbolism is closely aligned to that of wings and birds. They stand for ascendance, flight, communication with the spirit realms and the element of air.
Shamanistic use of feathers is for all these reasons;
the feathers enable the soul to become as light as the feather and transcend the boundaries of gravity, time, and space.
Shamans of all nationalities wear feathers as a part of their ritual apparel.
The eagle feather is the most valuable of all feathers:
In some parts of the world, this feather, synonymous with all the power of the bird, is considered so sacred that only card-carrying Native American tribal members may own them. Those found in the wrong hands are the cause of heavy fines.
The swan’s feather appears in the cloaks of druids; because the swan is the bird of poetry, its feathers magically confer these powers on the bard.
Used at the end of the arrow as a “flight,” feathers have a practical as well as symbolic use.
Additionally, feathers are a symbol of sacrifice:
This is because, when chickens and other birds were ritually slaughtered, all they left behind was a few feathers, fluttering to the ground.
The other major symbolic meaning of the feather associates it with vegetation and with hair, primarily because of a similarity in appearance.
HOURGLASS
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The function of the hourglass is to mark the passing of time, as sand trickles through the narrow waist in the middle of the transparent glass container that is the same shape as a figure of eight.
Therefore, it is often used as a motif to show the inevitability of death.
However, the shape of the hourglass, as well as being a visual symbol and a word used to describe the figure of a shapely woman, is a lemniscate, or infinity sign.
That the hourglass can be turned upside down to start the cycle all over again makes it an optimistic symbol of rebirth.
PHURBA
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This is a sacred knife, used only in ritual practices by Tibetan Buddhists.
Like the Athame of the Western tradition, it is employed to create the sacred spaces that are used for rites and ceremonies.
Its design is based on a stake used in ancient times to tether sacrificial animals, and it is used to describe a magic circle in the same way as a compass.
Can only be owned or handled by initiates.
THYRSUS
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The thyrsus was a sacred implement used in rituals and festivals during the time of the Ancient Greeks.
It was a staff, standing about as high as its owner, made from a giant fennel stalk topped with a pine cone and wrapped with vine leaves.
As a phallic symbol, it was combined with a goblet or chalice, symbolic of female energy and used to counterbalance the staff.
As well as being a symbol of male energy, though, staffs or long poles of some description have a universal use as a sacred instrument to connect the Heavens to the Earth, a conductor for the divine spirit.
Source ⚜ More: On Symbols ⚜ Writing Notes & References
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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Maybe a better idea..... Farmer Flemish giant rabbit Yan catches Foxboy reader, but gives reader the choice that if he becomes the yans malewife he can live.
(That was the plan to some extent in the long run, but the chase is fun, no? Regardless, here's a blurb of the two lovebirds)
Male Flemish Rabbit Yan + Foxboy Reader
Warnings: Imprisonment, kidnapping. Reader's pronouns are not mentioned, but they are thought of as male. The term Wife is used.
-
That bastard....
"Let me out! Let. Me. Out!"
Rearing your legs as far back as the tight space would grant, your knees bump into your chest as you kick out. Metal grates dig at your arms with every slight turn and jostle of your body. Dirt and moulted feathers mat your fur, yet there isn't any poultry in sight for you to feast and console yourself upon.
Damn it... You knew it was too good to be true. That farmer was a fool, but a watchful and cautious one at that. He'd never leave the door to his pens open unless he was sick or injured. Maybe part of you had prayed that he was. Wrong as it may be to wish ill on someone making a living for himself, you were just trying to survive too.
"Let me out.... please.." Your voice wavers as the pains of hunger and stress exhaust what little strength you have left. Your balled fists slap pathetically against the metal cages as tears well in your eyes, daring to spill. You won't let them. You won't let him win.
"I said...GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
The gravel outside your wooden prison shifts.
"In due time, Love. We've got a deal to make first."
Dread consumes the emptiness in your stomach, pinning your limbs to the dirt covered floor as he at sinks to his knees. Your knees curl into your chest once more, body and mind subconsciously making yourself smaller as his larger figure draws into view - blocking your sight of the forest beyond his land. Your home. You don't even realize your crying till his fingers brush the wetness from your cheek. You have half a mind to bite them off as they get stuck between the grates.
You snarl- "If you wanted me gone you could've asked..."
The farmer presses a strong hand to his mouth, suppressing a laugh. "If I wanted ya gone, I would'a taken the sheriff's generous offer of a shotgun the last time I had him over. You know how he is about outsiders."
The bite in your stare remains - still, your legs quiver at the mention. "You aren't going to turn me over to him, are you?
He can't. The farmer is lenient towards your crimes, but that man.. That rabbit... He'll have you hanging from the town hall by nightfall.
"Please... I'll...I'll do anything...I'll work off my debt day and night, I-"
"Sweetheart...." The farmer rest a hand on the steel wall of the coop, gently petting its bars as he would your fuzzy little head once you agreed to be his. "It's okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you or make you do any hard labor."
"Then-" Your cracked tongue wets your splitting lips. "What do you want from me?"
The farmer cranes his head, meeting you eye to eye. The bags beneath his eyes seemed heavier than usual. How long had been out here waiting for you to return?"
"Cute little fox like yourself shouldn't be out here scrounging around for scraps or the occasional unattended hen. You should have a roof over your head, a comfy bed, all the food you could ever want."
What's he going on about? Another trap?... "If I'm not going to work for it... How does this deal benefit you?"
"I want you to be my wife."
"Wha?!- Ouch!-" Your head shoots up, ramming into the low hanging support beams. "Are you crazy?"
The farmer lets a chuckle slip. "Heh, I'd have to have lost my mind not falling for ya. Think about it this way, Sweetheart. You come home with me and I fill that belly of yours full of food. Or I call up the sheriff and he fills it with lead. Your choice."
Your howling stomach betrays any fight you have remaining. You don't have many options in this scenario. Push come to shove, you could possibly make your escape in the dead of night when he least expects it - taking as many of his hens as your arms could carry.
"Okay... I'll.. be your wife."
"Smart fox." The farmer stands - rounding the corner to the front of the henhouse. He lifts the wooden board that had fallen into place as you crawling inside hours ago. Your legs are too cramped and spent from all that kicking to fight him as he pulls you out by your tail and into his well built arms. The farmer presses his nose to your face, nuzzling your cheek as he walks off towards his home - carrying you bridal style.
"Welcome home, Hun."
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letternotekisses · 8 months ago
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You huff - a soft exhale that puffs your chest out like a hen with its feathers ruffled - and Roadhog's head swivels to face you, the blank stitching of his mask staring you straight down in a way that usually had you silenced within seconds. Most of the time you'd back down, eager to have him reward you for your good behaviour when you would submit and roll over onto your back like the good little bitch you were.
But today isn’t one of those days, and Mako reckons you'll be coming on soon, seeing as you were practically fighting with his belt to get at his cock underneath, pawing and palming at his heavy balls through his boxers. He oughta teach you a lesson or two. Or knock you up, considering how badly you wanted to take him raw.
You pull him free from his underwear, and he throbs hotly in your palm, your fingers unable to meet around the sheer size of it. Roadhog grunts, an raspy wheeze leaving his chest that made the rippling layer of fat and muscle on his chest tense sporadically.
"That all f'me?" He rumbles, tugging down your panties to shove a thick finger between your legs. His meaty digit drags through your folds to feel the mess you'd made while his thumb busies with circling your clit, "How sweet."
Your cheeks grow warm when you realise just how wet you were, but you don't dwell on the matter when Roadhog suddenly sinks his ring finger into your cunt and you clench needily around it, the stretch pleasant and filling you better than your own fingers ever could manage. His free hand smooths over your exposed belly, the weathered skin of his palms coming to cup your soft tits. You almost double over, moaning softly, but Mako is always there to catch you, whether you'd been a brat or not.
"Roadie," You whine, and he cocks his head at the usage of his nickname, content with watching you squirm on his fingers while you try to spit out your words. "C'mon and fuck me already."
You squeal when he gives your ass a harsh smack, the flesh there would definitely be sore come tomorrow, but he was already palming the flesh to soothe it and you were already too horny to think when he barked a laugh and rasped down at you.
"You want me t'break that little pussy?" Mako grunts harshly, reminding you painfully of the sheer size difference between you as he scissors you open, your thighs shaking like leaves from his fingers alone. Your slick is coating your thighs and his hand, but he won't fuck you until he thinks you're ready. He gives your ass an appreciative pat, gentler than before as he murmurs into your ear gruffly. "You'll take what I give ya."
Your squirming only invites him to stroke rougher circles over your clit, over and over in a torturous pace until he makes you finish with a gush of fluid that coats his fingers in a slick sheen. Your brain is like soup when he pulls his thick digits free and uses your cum as lubricant to slick up his erection, the tip slapping wetly against his stomach when he pauses to manhandle you into his expansive lap.
Mako's cock twitches against your soft tummy, the weight of it alone intimidating, and you never get used to seeing how deep it appears to go. He could very easily hold you up with his own strength, but he preferred the fun in watching you convince yourself that you could take it all in one go.
Your fingers guide the fat tip through your folds deftly, and Roadhog reaches down to spread your cunt wider, nudging himself against your hole with an eager wheeze. Massive hands then move to grab your hips hungrily, kneading the doughy flesh as you sink downwards.
It's a snug fit. You feel every throb, every twitch of him as he bullies himself inside your wet cunt, and your walls cling to him, sucking him in deeper like they'd missed him. He twitches harshly, dribbling pre-cum inside your warm pussy.
"Oh, God." You breathe, feeling like he'd just buried himself deep inside your stomach, but you were nothing if not a little spitfire that was determined to take his thick fucking cock all the way to the hilt.
Roadie only rasped, laughing at your breathy attempts while he mused over how he was going to fold you in half later, how he was going to sink himself balls deep and breed your cunt until you whine and claw at the meat of his back. Until you grew fat and full with his cum.
He'd dump your birth control too, while he was at it. With his plans for you, he'd doubt you'd need it (or want it) anymore.
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megalony · 1 year ago
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She's Not Here
This is a new Evan Buckley imagine which will have a follow up. I had a few different ideas about this theme and suddenly got inspired. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: While Evan is on a long weekend at work, (Y/n) takes their girls out with their family. Things don't go to plan when something happens to one of their daughters.
Enjoy.
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Evan wasn't looking forward to this weekend.
With Hen off on holiday with her family, two new probie's transferred to a different station house that needed them and the local weather warnings going crazy, Evan was hauled in for the weekend. Once he arrived at work today, he would be staying at the station all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday without coming home and he didn't even know what time he was due to finish on Sunday night.
The whole weekend would be spent living at the station with the team and getting what sleep he could in the bunker room. And only God knew how many callouts Evan was going to see this weekend.
Evan wasn't ready for such a long stretch of shifts without coming home. The longest shift he had done was two full days away from home and a while back he did five days in a row, but he had come home to sleep during the night so he at least saw his family; somewhat.
Evan didn't want the balance to shift the wrong way where he lived at the station and visited his home.
He wanted to stay right where he was, laid in bed with his wife in his arms and his daughters close by in their rooms.
A smile wormed its way onto Evan's face when he felt (Y/n) murmur something softly into his chest. He shuffled closer and buried his lips against the top of her head in her hair. His fingers ran up and down her back like feathers tickling over her skin and he felt the way it made her shiver.
He could feel (Y/n)'s lips pressing into his chest, silently letting him know that she was awake too. His body clock had woken him a little while before his alarm and (Y/n) always woke up whenever she felt Evan awake beside her. She didn't sleep well without him which was another reason Evan wasn't too happy about being away from home for two nights and three days.
He would come home to a sleep-deprived wife.
Her fingertips tickled along his back but it was her lips that caught Evan's attention and livened him up. Wet, hollow kisses pressed up his sternum in a slow trail as she tilted her head back until her chin pressed into his chest and she could shimmy up the bed a little. They usually woke up with (Y/n) halfway down the bed and Evan with his head bashing the headboard. He was over six foot so moving an inch down the bed caused his feet to dangle out the bed, something he hated.
The feel of (Y/n)'s lips pressing to his neck made him take in a deep breath but when she grazed her teeth along his skin, he growled into her hair.
This was a better morning wake up than he had a few days ago. He wondered why he dreamt he had been drowning until he realised he had been laid on his back with (Y/n) sprawled out on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Evan liked mornings like these the best when they woke up before the alarm went off and had time together. He used to be a morning person before he got married. Having (Y/n) in the bed changed his ideals and made it hard to get up now.
And when there was no kids in the bed with them, mornings like this got even better.
"Do you have to go soon?" (Y/n) muttered the words quietly against his neck, her voice laced with sleep but her actions proved she was wide awake.
"Hm, I've got time."
(Y/n)'s eyes shot open and a gasp tumbled past her lips when the arm around her waist tightened and his palm pressed flat against her lower back so he could flip them over. He rolled her onto her back, muffling her quiet laugh as he moved to kneel between her legs. Evan's hands planted down on the pillow either side of her head, caging her in beneath him like she was his prey and his teeth flashed in a sharp grin that looked animalistic.
She brought her hands up to cup his face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones as he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.
"This has to go," Evan muttered the words quietly against her lips, drinking in the taste of them until he was positively drunk and (Y/n) was gasping against his mouth. His hands moved down to her sides as his weight shifted to rest on his knees so he could scrunch up the bottom of her shirt that clung to her curves like a second skin that left very little to the imagination.
He didn't have to say anything for (Y/n) to lean up so he could slowly peel it off and her grin made his heart jump.
He threw the small, flimsy material down on the floor and gave the cover a nudge until it fell off his back and crumpled to the bottom of the bed. He was starting to burn up already, they didn't need any extra layers covering them.
While he took a moment to admire the view in front of him, (Y/n) took her chance to scrape her nails agonisingly slow over his skin, starting from his abdomen and she worked her way up until her hands were curved around his neck. Her fingers tickled the small hairs at the back of his neck and she sat up to meet him in the middle, moulding her chest against his before she pulled his lips down to hers.
(Y/n) could feel the fever behind his kiss and the way his fingertips dug bruisingly into her hips when she pushed her chest up against him just to irritate him and goad him further.
When she pulled back, (Y/n) sucked his lower lip between her teeth and gave a small tug until she could feel the growl deep within his chest, rumbling through into her own.
"Baby," Evan's groan was deep and the word was a warning.
He didn't have a lot of time before the alarm was going to go off and he didn't like being teased.
Her fingertips slid away from the back of his neck and trailed their way back down the middle of his chest, covering every square inch that she could. Her plump lips left Evan's and moved towards his razor sharp jaw and when she could feel him starting to quiver beneath her, she started to kiss down his neck.
The moment her teeth grazed against the junction between his neck and shoulder, about to leave a mark, Evan suddenly clenched her wrists in a tight grip and leaned his weight onto her again. He pushed her down on the bed and fell forward until his chest slammed into hers and her hands were pinned down on the mattress. Evan tried to keep some of his weight pushed back on his legs and his elbows so he didn't crush his wife beneath him, but he could still feel every crevace of her moulded up against him.
"Hmm, my turn." There was something demanding and authorative in his voice that was not to be messed with and all (Y/n) could do was turn to jelly beneath his touch.
She barely had chance to gasp before Evan smothered her mouth with his and let his tongue explore past her lips.
Wet, panting kisses were peppered along her neck and down the middle of her throat so every time she gasped or swallowed, Evan could feel each movement. He let go of her hands and moved his fingertips across her sides and down the dips and curves to that special area just above her hips where (Y/n) was ticklish. He loved the way her stomach would pull in and she would jump against his touch when all he had to do was lightly trace the pad of his finger along her skin and it had her gasping and laughing beneath him.
"We won't be needing these any more." He hooked his fingers into the top of her underwear and shuffled back on his knees to remove them when (Y/n) lifted her legs.
(Y/n) grinned up at him as he threw the dark red lace to the floor, adding it to the growing pile of clothes. But she let her eyes fall down to watch him roll his boxers past his knees so he could kick them onto the floor. When they were off, (Y/n) sat up and looped her arms back round his neck, desperate to be as close as possible.
"Do you have to leave us for three whole days, Evan?" She knew exactly what kind of reaction she got from using his name and as expected, something burned deeper and darker in his eyes.
She felt his hand move and his arm wrapped like an iron bar around her back just above her bum so he could reel her in and pull her closer. He held her so close and tight that he lifted her up from her bed and she had to shuffle her weight onto the back of her legs to stay tall against him like this. Her hands dug tightly into his shoulders to steady herself, but a silent gasp left her lips when his other hand dug lovingly into the underside of her thigh.
(Y/n) felt her back hit the headboard and her knees coiled up as Evan shifted forward so he was leaning on her chest and kneeled between her spread legs. He looked- and acted- like he always had always belonged there between her thighs, and he always would.
"It's not by choice, baby, I'd much rather stay right here," His voice was gruff and thick but he barely got the last word out before he crashed his lips against hers in a silent battle. He dug his nails tighter into her thigh and moved her leg to hook it around his hip so he could brace his hand on the wall behind the bed. The last thing he wanted was to put all of his weight onto (Y/n) or give her bruises down her spine from the wooden headboard.
"Your alarm," (Y/n) panted against his lips, barely feeling able to speak from how close Evan's lips were hovering over hers. Swallowing up her words and getting ready to attack her lips again. "If the girls hear it, they'll come in here."
(Y/n) knew three out of their four girls would barge into their bedroom if they heard Evan's alarm go off. Usually they would wait for one of their parents to wake them up, but if they happened to hear the alarm, they would know it was time to get up. And they would bustle their way in without knocking or caring at all.
"We've got ten minutes," He muttered back, dragging her lower lip between his teeth as something darkened in his eyes. "Think you can stay quiet, baby?"
Evan leaned down and buried his face in the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, panting against her skin as he flapped his left hand out to turn off his alarm that was now blaring out. His lips curved into a grin when he felt (Y/n) shudder against him as he parted his lips and sank his teeth down into the soft flesh.
"It's starting." (Y/n) mumbled, carding her fingers through Evan's hair as he paused to try and strain his ears.
Evie was crying. Footsteps were crashing about in the next room; Lois was awake. Two out of four of their girls were awake and if Evie was crying, then Minnie would certainly wake up. And if Lois was getting up, she would undoubtedly go into Ellie's room and wake her up too.
"I'll get the baby," (Y/n) cupped Evan's face in her hands so she could peck his lips again. But she didn't get to move far before Evan nudged her back against the bed an gave her thigh a squeeze.
"No, she's mine until I have to leave," With a lasting kiss to her lips and his teeth nipped at the corner of her mouth, Evan pulled away and clambered off the bed.
Evan wanted to help get the girls up and ready for school. He would eat breakfast with his family, take Lois and Ellie to school and then head to the station and wait for the chaos to ensue and the weekend to drag out into a year.
He snapped his pants back over his hips, stretched his arms above his head and left the room to head over into the nursery.
As expected, the one year old was sat up in her cot, tears traced down her face and her hair a mess of curls sticking up at all angles like she had been electrocuted.
"Hi," A grin curved onto Evan's lips and he flashed his teeth as he stretched his arms out to pick Evie up. "Morning baby girl. Come here, you can get ready with daddy, hm?"
Evan loved the way Evie snuggled into his bare chest and tucked her face into his neck. Her small hand curled up into a fist and settled over Evan's chest as her cries instantly ceased at having some contact. Evan swayed from side to side as he pressed his lips down on her temple, making kissing noises until Evie gurgled and squealed.
She couldn't speak yet, she had only just turned one last month. But she was forever making a round of strange noises, and high-pitch squeals was one of her new favourite things to do.
Evie let out a particularly loud squeal as Evan turned around to look across at the small bed on the other side of the room. He looked down at his youngest with raised brows and made a similar noise of excitement just to see his daughter grin.
He let his eyes drift over to the bed and he bent down beside it, reaching a hand out to card his fingers through Minnie's hair as she started to wake up.
"Mornin' little mouse, you gonna get up with me today?"
Her tired, toothy grin made Evan's heart leap in his chest and he smiled brightly when she sat up and held her arms out expectingly. Her head tilted back and she pursed her lips until Evan gave her a kiss and curled his free arm around her so he had one girl in each arm.
He lifted Minnie up, cuddled her for a few seconds, then gently set her down to her feet and let her hold his hand while he made sure Evie was settled on his hip.
Evan could feel the heartache gnawing away at his chest already. Leaving them this morning was going to be near impossible.
"Evan!"
He looked down and shared a look with Minnie as they wandered out the nursery and looked into the hall. Their eyes landed on (Y/n) and Evan bit his lip at the sight, unable to tear his gaze away. She was stood leaning against their bedroom door, one arm crossed over her chest and one knee bent forward, exposing her thighs to his prying gaze.
It was clear (Y/n) had grabbed the closest piece of clothing she could so she was somewhat decent in front of the girls. She was stood in one of Evan's shirt and it was clear to his perceptive gaze that she wasn't wearing a bra or any underwear. And he grinned triumphantly when he noticed her hair was skewed and stuck up at all angles, giving away their morning activity.
Moving her hand, (Y/n) shook her phone from side to side, silently beckoning Evan over to her so he could see what had her looking rather unimpressed and unsettled.
He walked over until he was stood in front of her and raked his eyes up and down her body a few more times until (Y/n) nudged him and held the phone out. Evan leaned down and narrowed his eyes, bouncing Evie on his hip while Minnie started to tug on his hand and slouch up against his leg.
*Hey, Just giving you and Buck a heads up. Mum and dad are coming into town this weekend and they want to spend time with us and the girls. Sorry in advance. XXX
A groan tumbled past Evan's lips and he tilted his head back as he closed his eyes and tried to take a normal breath.
Great. Their parents were coming into town, unannounced, or at least unannounced to Evan. They never told him when they were coming down in case he made plans or tried not to spend much time with them. He and (Y/n)were civil for the sake of the girls, but needless to say, his parents weren't in the girl's lives very much.
Not like Bobby and Athena. At least they were always there for Evan, their daughter, and all four girls. They made Evan glad every day that they were his in-laws and his kids had one set of decent, reliable and loving grandparents.
"You're going to work- for the whole weekend, I'm gonna be stuck with them, not you." (Y/n) bit her lip to hide her smile when Evan looked down at her with those puppy dog eyes.
She wanted to be annoyed with him. She wanted to be angry that he had wormed his way out of this without even having to try. He was working days and nights this weekend, he wasn't coming home until Sunday night so he would likely have one night with his parents before they left. (Y/n) could only presume they were down for the weekend, their trips didn't usually last very long.
(Y/n) and Maddie were going to be the ones entertaining Margaret and Phillip all weekend and being around them while Evan got out of it because of his job.
"I… I'll talk to Bobby, see if I can come back any earlier on Sunday. Baby I am sorry."
Bobby was understanding. He knew Evan's relationship with his parents was very strained and he knew (Y/n) didn't have the best relationship with them either. He might be obliged to let Evan come home Sunday afternoon, he was pulling a lot of overtime this weekend alone because they were short staffed.
(Y/n) folded her arms back over her chest but nodded all the same. She knew it wasn't Evan's fault and they couldn't do very much about it now.
"Morning dad."
Evan's eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder when Lois ran up from behind him and smacked her hand down on his bum before running past him. Her laughter could be heard down the hall as she bolted to the stairs and zoomed down so Evan couldn't get her back.
"Oi!"
"Morning daddy," He tilted his head down towards Ellie when she scurried up next to Minnie and wrapped around his leg. She looked up at him with those big doe eyes that all the girls inherited from (Y/n). Just one look from any of Evan's girls would turn his knees to jelly and make him cave in to just about anything.
"Hi baby. Your gran and grandad are coming down to see you this weekend." He couldn't get his hand free from Minnie's viper grip so Evan settled on leaning over to kiss Ellie's forehead.
"Nanny Nash?" Minnie asked with a wide grin that started to fade when Evan grimaced and shook his head.
Athena was the favourite. She was the grandparent all the girls clung to and wanted to look after them. Whenever Evan's parents came to town, his girls were never enthusiastic or best pleased, and he understood completely. He would choose Bobby and Athena over his own parents every time.
"Oh, grumpy gran?" Ellie murmured quietly with a deflated spirit even as her dad rolled his eyes and her mum laughed.
Evan dreaded to think what was going to happen while he worked away this weekend. What chaos was he going to come home to?
***
"Can we go in the book store?" Lois tilted her head to the right and leaned her cheek on (Y/n)'s arm, staying as close to her mum's side as she could manage.
"Sure, we can go on the way back."
(Y/n) glanced her eyes around their little group and when she looked to the left, she found Maddie smiling tiredly at her.
The weekend seemed to be dragging by as slow as they had ever known it, the minutes dragged into hours and the hours never seemed to pass into days. All day yesterday, Maddie and her parents had spent the day at (Y/n)'s home with the girls. Playing games, catching up and having takeaway for tea. The day had lasted longer than any of them expected.
Since it was Sunday and Maddie and (Y/n) both agreed they didn't want to be shut in the house, they came out. They had left Phillip to his own devices and he said he would probably pop by the station to see Evan and Chimney. While Margaret went with all the girls to the shopping centre for the morning.
It wasn't as bad as (Y/n) expected, Margaret was trying her best to get on with the girls and show an interest in them and that was all she was asking for.
It would have been nice if Athena wasn't working this weekend. She could of joined them and made it a bit more bearable, but (Y/n) had Maddie. The two had the same kind of bond that Maddie had with Evan, for all intents and purposes they were sisters and they stuck together when her parents were around.
"Do you like reading books too?" Margaret looked down at Ellie. The six year old was walking between her and (Y/n), keeping hold of the pram so she didn't get lost in the crowds.
Margaret had offered to hold her hand but Ellie politely declined. She would rather cling to the pram or walk slightly ahead of the group since she was the fast walker out of them all.
"I like when daddy reads to me, he does the funny voices." Ellie pushed her glasses further up her nose and leaned to look up at her mum when (Y/n) slowed down.
Reaching into the bag hanging beneath the pram, (Y/n) found a pre-mixed bottle and gave it a shake before she leaned forwards. She rested her arms on the pram handle and kept walking at a slow pace while she rolled up the blanket covering Evie. She set the bottle on top of the blanket so she didn't have to hold it to feed Evie.
It was an easy trick (Y/n) had learnt early on with the girls that saved a lot of time and effort. Evie was one, she was able enough to sit and take her bottle with it angled down to her and she was starting to hold it herself now too.
"I can feed her if you like."
"No, she's fine." (Y/n) hummed quietly, smiling down at her little girl before she looked around.
It was calming to have Maddie and Margaret with her, it meant (Y/n) didn't have to keep worrying and keeping hold of the girls and make sure they all weren't wandering off or hanging behind. Ellie was on her right near Margaret, Lois was on her left with Maddie on her other side and Minnie was holding Maddie's hand.
(Y/n) would have been a little more relaxed if they had the other pram with them that held both Evie and Minnie. She knew Minnie got tired easily and liked to be carried, the other pram was easier so she didn't grow tired or wander off or walk slow. But they couldn't fit it in the car with them today.
"Shall we go in here?" Maddie pointed to the clothes shop on her left and when they all nodded, the group steered through the crowd and into the store.
The shopping centre wasn't as busy today with it being a Sunday and it was good not to be caught in a crowd or around people pushing and shoving to get past. But this shop in particular looked to be lively and bustling with people hovering around and trying on different items.
Turning to her left, Lois tugged on Maddie's sleeve and leaned closer to her aunt before she pointed towards the escalator.
"Can we look at the Disney stuff?"
It was no secret that Lois and Maddie had a connection. She was the eldest of all Evan's daughters. Maddie had brought Evan up and she had been so thrilled when he had his first child. She was always round to take Lois out and spend some one to one time with her. Then as the other girls were born, she took them all out.
But Maddie and Lois usually ended up picking matching clothes from the stores, like the Disney shirts they always chose in the adult and children's section. Or the matching family pyjamas they came home with last time they went out.
"Of couse, we need some new tops, don't we?" Maddie grinned down at her and moved so Minnie could stand next to (Y/n) while she and Lois made a beeline for the escalator.
"What do you want to look at, baby?" (Y/n) darted her eyes between Ellie and Minnie. She knew Minnie didn't really care, she was just happy to be scouting round looking at all the pretty things whereas Ellie and Lois had preferences.
"Blankets?" Ellie whispered before she took the lead towards the right side of the shop on the ground floor.
They had homeware at the back of the store and Ellie loved collecting new fluffy blankets and pillows to snuggle into. She had more pillows on her bed to the point she could barely fit in her bed anymore.
"Come on- Minnie no this way,"
(Y/n)'s eyes switched between Ellie who was already disappearing out of sight, and Minnie who was aiming for the escalator. She wanted to follow Maddie and Lois. She had a nose for all the Disney items and Minnie Mouse was her favourite, obviously.
"I'll get her, we can find her something upstairs to match those little ears." With a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder, Margaret smiled at her before she aimed after the three year old.
Since Evan found a pair of Minnie Mouse ears and a bright red bow sewn onto a headband, Minnie had scarcely taken them off. She wore them almost every day. She was so used to Evan calling her his 'little mouse' that if he said her name, she now thought she was in trouble. Evan barely called the girls by their names anymore, they each had their own petname with him and they all loved it.
Leaning forward, (Y/n) took the half-finished bottle from Evie and placed it back in the bag hanging beneath the pram. She was asleep.
For the past few weeks, whenever Evan did a night shift and came home, he and Evie would have a power nap after dinner. And Minnie usually fell asleep with them too.
After wandering around for a few minutes, Ellie found a dark grey teddy fleece blanket that felt like a cloud. She held it up towards (Y/n) and grinned. "Can we get this one?" She looped it around her shoulders as soon as (Y/n) nodded and wore it like a cape.
(Y/n) knew what would happen with that blanket. Ellie wouldn't let any of her sisters use it. She had a thing about blankets or pillows being washed, the fluffy ones always felt crimped and deflated after being washed. So Ellie would keep the blanket out of reach of others so it wouldn't have to be put in the washer.
"Let's go see what's upstairs."
Ellie led the way towards the back of the store and pushed the button for the lift, standing dutifully beside the pram while they waited.
"When's daddy coming home?"
"I'm not sure, sometime tonight I think, baby. He might be home for tea." She hadn't heard from Evan since last night when he rang to talk to the girls before they went to bed. (Y/n) knew her husband and dad had been busy this weekend and she knew Evan would be in need of some sleep when he finally came home. She didn't want to message him and bother him when he was busy, it would be better to just wait and be surprised when he finally came home.
When the lift opened, (Y/n) followed Ellie and let her lead the way between clothes racks and shelves stocked with various jumpers and shirts and bottoms. They passed the boys section and moved towards the other side where there was a large corner dedicated to Disney items.
They found Maddie and Lois easily. The two were stood with a few clothes draped over Maddie's arm and Lois's pigtails shook from side to side when she tilted her head left to right.
"What have you girls found?" (Y/n) folded her arms over the pram handle and leaned forward, clicking her spine into place. She smiled softly at them as Lois held out the shirt that she found which Maddie had got the matching adult one to. It was a pale grey short-sleeved shirt with the Disney castle painted on the front in baby blue and had Tinkerbell in the top left corner.
"We found you one too." Lois held a matching shirt out towards Ellie who brightened up and gingerly took the top.
She moved to stand closer to Maddie and looked along the rack with Lois to see what other designs they had. While (Y/n) looked around for her mother in law.
"Where's Minnie?"
Margaret was slowly approaching their group, her handbag slung down on her elbow instead of her shoulder. She had a tired smile on her face and a onesie in her hand that (Y/n) could only presume was meant for Evie. But she didn't have Minnie clinging to her arm or pulling her in the other direction or showing her around.
"She's- oh, she's wandered again." Looking to her right, Margaret's tired smile softened somewhat and she turned to backtrack the way she had just come from. She hadn't been holding Minnie's hand because the toddler was always pulling this way and that. It was easier to follow Minnie around or let her trail behind her than keep hold of her hand all the time.
"She was with mum a moment ago." Maddie smiled and did a quick scan of their surroundings. "I'm sure she's found something she wants."
There weren't many people up on this floor, the shop had been much busier downstairs in the adult section which was good for the girls. They could roam around up here without getting in the way or bumping into people.
(Y/n) nodded, but she could feel her smile fading when she watched Margaret walk back over to them, empty-handed and without a smile.
"She… she was just here."
A shudder tore through (Y/n)'s blood and she locked eyes with Maddie who started to bite down on her lip, all traces of a smile gone from her face. Minnie wasn't the kind of child to wander far. She was a nervous child by nature, she didn't like being far from her family, but she was likely to talk to strangers. The first time she went to the station to meet Evan's team, she talked to anyone and everyone and followed them around.
If people were friendly with her, she assumed they were nice and safe to be around.
Without saying anything, (Y/n) reached out and deadlocked her hand around Ellie's nimble fingers. She tugged the six year old into her side when she noticed Maddie take Lois's hand out of instinct and fright. She left the pram next to her sister in law and strode off, Ellie rushing at her side.
"Minnie? Minnie, baby come here."
"Minnie… Minnie?" Ellie raised her voice and sniffed, pushing her glasses further up her nose as she leaned to look for her sister. But she felt her mum pull her back to her side. She wasn't having any of the girls stray further than arms-length away from her until Minnie was back at her side.
They scoured around the shop, looking behind racks, peering through clothes on hangers to see if Minnie was weaving through the garments or trying to play hide and seek. But she never liked that game. She feared no one would find her if she found a good hiding spot.
They circled around the teddies, looked through the empty fitting room and looped past the escalator and back towards Maddie.
Maddie was stood with her arm around Lois and the pushchair in front of her, near the escalator. She had a store worker in front of her. This didn't look good.
"-She's three and she's wandered off."
"I can't find her up here, I'm checking downstairs." (Y/n) didn't believe for a second that Minnie would go down that escalator on her own, nor would she get into a lift without one of her sisters or her mum or auntie with her. But she wasn't up here, and (Y/n) couldn't do constant circles up here, praying her daughter would pop out of thin air.
She clenched Ellie's hand tighter and grabbed the pram with her other hand, steering towards the lift while Maddie and Lois went down the escalator together.
"Minnie?"
(Y/n) could feel tears burning in her eyes when she watched Maddie and Lois burn through the crowds and scatter around the shop. She watched Margaret go towards the entrance of the shop and grab the security guard and that only escalated (Y/n)'s panic.
Minnie wouldn't leave without them. She wouldn't walk out of here alone, but (Y/n) didn't know if her toddler would leave with anyone else. She wouldn't just leave them willingly, would she?
"Mum?" Fright flooded through Ellie's voice and she leaned her head on (Y/n)'s arm and stared up at her.
When (Y/n) noticed the tears falling behind Ellie's glasses, she gulped harshly and pulled on her hand. "Do not let go of me." She instructed before they set off into a sprint, looking anywhere and everywhere they could.
Ellie grabbed the pram with her free hand to steady herself as she stumbled beside her mum, trying to look for her little sister. Tears blurred her eyes and she sniffed. None of her sisters had ever gone missing before. They had never wandered or come close to being lost, ever.
By the time they looped back to the entrance after two rounds of scouting round the ground floor, (Y/n) could barely breathe.
They checked all the racks, all the shelves and units Minnie could hide in or behind. They stopped people to ask if they had seen a toddler matching Minnie's description, but no one had seen her. Some women trailed behind (Y/n), calling out Minnie's name and trying to help locate her, but it was becoming apparent that Minnie was no longer in this store.
The checkouts had ceased operation, all staff encouraging people to stop and group together in the middle of the store so Minnie couldn't hide behind people if she was still here. Workers scattered through the shop to look for her and security weren't letting people in or out of the shop without being talked to and checked first.
"She isn't here." Shallow, rumbling breaths passed through (Y/n)'s lips and she let a few tears trace down her face.
Evie was stirring in the pram from all the rushing about and the sudden commotion. Ellie was now whimpering into (Y/n)'s arm. Lois was crying and clutching Maddie like she thought she was going to become lost too. Maddie was fighting off tears of panic and Margaret was shaking, unable to talk at all.
"Come and stand out here, away from the commotion. My colleagues aren't allowing anyone in or out, if she's still in there they will find her soon." The security guard moved his hand to Maddie's shoulder and kindly motioned for them to follow him. They couldn't stand in the doorway and talk when panic was growing inside the shop and the bustle was getting louder.
(Y/n) could feel her stomach churning and she knew in a few minutes, if her daughter wasn't back in her arms, she was going to be sick.
Her legs turned to jelly as she shuffled away from the shop and out into the centre of the mall. Her eyes scanned around rapidly but she couldn't keep in focus. All she wanted was to look for her daughter. She just wanted to see Minnie wearing her headband, bounding her way, crying out for her or laughing.
(Y/n) couldn't make sense of the people passing by. Anyone with a pushchair, she tried to move closer to and check to make sure they hadn't strapped her daughter in them. She watched women walk past, holding tighter to their child's hands as if they could sense the looming panic.
"She's not here." It was the only thing that (Y/n) could process.
Her daughter wasn't here. She wasn't in the shop. She wasn't anywhere in their sights. She had disappeared and no one had noticed. No one had stopped her or anyone around her. They let her walk right past them. Where had she gone?
"Can you show me a recent picture and describe what she was wearing? We'll get an announcement out and put security on every exit, just to be safe."
"Um…" A look passed between (Y/n) and Maddie before Maddie got out her phone and scrolled through for a picture of Minnie. She had thousands of pictures of her nieces, it wouldn't be hard to find a recent one. "S-she's wearing a purple dress, with white flowers, and white tights. Red shoes,"
"Her headband," Lois looked from her aunt to her mum. They would spot Minnie from a mile away with her headband.
"Yes! It's a Minnie Mouse headband, big black ears and a pink bow in the centre, s-she wouldn't take that off."
"Does she have any nicknames she might respond to?"
"Um… her dad calls her little mouse…" (Y/n) couldn't think of any other nicknames they used for her. Evan had so many petnames for the girls, but that was the only one he seemed to use for Minnie, and (Y/n) either called her by her name or baby. She didn't use many other terms that Minnie would respond to.
"Shop's clear."
Those two words crackled through the security guard's radio pinned to his shoulder and it made (Y/n)'s blood go cold. She barely heard Margaret whimper that she was going to look round for her. She couldn't feel Ellie sobbing into her arm or Maddie gripping her elbow tightly.
All (Y/n) could feel was the way her ribs were aching with each breath she took like they had splintered and were puncturing into her lungs. Each thud of her heartbeat had her chest aching and make her skin prickle with heat and droplets of cold sweat. She could feel her head pounding and pulsing, her knees going weak and her throat closing up as her stomach did summersaults.
She wasn't in the store. She had gotten out into the shopping centre. She could be out of the centre already. She could be in somebody's car, walking down the street, getting into a taxi or on the bus. Minnie could be on her way out of their lives by now.
No one was helping fast enough.
"I'm calling 911, I'll get Josh on the line and get him to set up contact with Athena."
Maddie squeezed (Y/n)'s shoulder and took a few steps away towards the seating area in front of them. She sat Lois down beside her and curved her arm around her eldest niece, tucking her under her arm like a bird offering her protection beneath her wing. Even as she got her phone from her bag, Maddie could feel her sister in law staring at her. Checking Lois wasn't about to disappear too.
Clenching Ellie's hand tightly in hers, (Y/n) went numb as she walked over to Maddie. An air of calmness surrounded her as if she had left her body behind. She sat Ellie down next to Lois and moved the pram behind them before she turned and took a few steps away.
When the security guard reached out for her, she shook her head and pulled away. She didn't want touch or help or comfort. She wanted her daughter back in her arms.
She didn't feel or see herself moving until her phone was in her hand and the dialling tone was suddenly ringing in her ear.
Her body cringed and pulled inwards when a tanoid announcement roared through the air like shockwaves rippling through the sky. Minnie's description. Her age, her height, her clothes and hair and headband, all circulating through the speakers. Asking anyone to find her, approach her and take her to the nearest security or safety point.
"Hello?"
Bobby. She had called her dad. Of course she had. She didn't know whether Evan was out on a call or getting a shower or busy doing inventory. He might not have his phone to hand whereas her dad was more likely to answer.
"Dad, is Evan with you?" Her voice came out so quiet and meek that (Y/n) barely recognised it as her own. She could hear the wobble in her words and the way her voice cracked like it was glass heating up and fracturing into pieces.
"Yeah, we're just about to sit down for dinner. Why, what's wrong?"
"Oh God…"
She couldn't say it. She couldn't say what was wrong or what was running through her head. All she could do was lean forwards like she was going to be sick with one arm around her stomach and the other clenching her phone tight.
Tears streamed down her face, her vision blurred and her throat felt like it was swelling up as she gasped and wheezed down the line.
"(Y/n)… (Y/n) honey, calm down." His words did nothing to alleviate the panic in (Y/n)'s heart and she couldn't stop crying now she had started. "Buck, we've got a situation."
"Baby, it's me. What's going on?"
"Minnie's gone."
"What?"
What the Hell did that mean? Where had she gone? What were they doing- where were they? How had she gone, was she hurt, run off, taken, fallen down somewhere, stuck in a taxi or on the bus or somewhere away from them? What did that mean?
(Y/n) rattled her hand through her hair but she had to wind her arm back around her stomach again. The pressure felt good, it felt calming and grounding to have that touch and try to prevent herself from being sick.
"We- we're all in the shopping centre… she went with your mum and Maddie but she's disappeared. Evan we can't find her anywhere, security haven't seen her… M-Maddie's calling the police… I d- I don't know what to do."
She pulled the phone away from her ear so she could wipe her sleeve beneath her eyes and nose. She was suddenly glad that her back was turned to the girls, she didn't like them seeing her cry.
"Fuck! Oh shit… look, I'm gonna come down there now, okay? I- I'll get down to you, if you find her before I get there call me. You hear anything you call me. Try not to panic, sweetheart, she- she might have wandered off after someone, look what she was like at the Christmas party."
Evan felt like the world was crashing down around him.
His little girl wouldn't just wander off without anyone. She didn't follow after people or run away or stray far from whoever she was out with. And she was only three, she wouldn't do this on purpose to cause a scene or create panic or because she thought this was a funny game to play.
His free hand slammed down on the table so hard and fast everyone froze. Hen stopped serving up lunch, people began to put down their plates as slowly as they could manage, and all eyes landed on Evan.
He turned to look over at Bobby, and realising that he still had Bobby's phone, he handed it over with (Y/n) still on the line. "Call Athena."
His voice turned raspy and his blue eyes darkened as tears pooled on his lashes and his face began to turn a very worrying shade of red. He pushed his chair back and scrambled to turn around, even as Eddie reached out to stop him and Bobby rushed from the table. His daughter was crying on the phone and Evan was trying to leave. No one was telling him what was happening.
"Buck!"
He shrugged off Eddie's touch and bolted from the table, checking his pockets for his phone and his wallet. He needed to find his keys from his locker and leave. He had to get down there and get in that shopping centre. Evan needed to scout round every inch of that building. Every corner, every crevace, every hidden crook and cranny, he needed to look round them all.
He needed to watch and search every person who tried to leave and every car needed to be stopped and checked.
"Buck what's going on?"
"One of my daughters is missing."
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fan-goddess · 8 months ago
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Come run your hands through my hair
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Authors Note: This took a while.... sorta took a break from writing due to low motivation and personal life stuff that took over my wellbeing these last few months. Still, i hope by posting this I get back in the writing spirit!
This request was inspired off an artwork created by @slytherincursebreaker who’s an amazing artist so I recommend looking at them! They’ll blow your socks off! (It won’t let me link the post annoyingly so I’ll add the link in a reblog of this post!)
Taglist: @slytherincursebreaker, @theconclavescitadel @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee
Warnings: Suggestive content, babies, reader is mainly gender neutral but some female descriptions may have been dotted throughout, (if i miss any let me know!)
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When Aemond first allowed his hair to reach his waist all those years ago in his teens, he had no idea how much of a hassle it would be to keep it like that.
Though to his surprise, it wasn’t the maintenance what forced him to reconsider all his hard earned work. If anything, he spent too long maintaining it, putting all sorts of products from all sorts of places as far as Essos or even Winterfell.
But no. Instead, It was his own daughter, who was the one forcing him to reconsider it all.
“Hermione, please loosen your grip. Kostilus ñuha byka dārilaros, ivestragī jikagon hen ñuha ōghar."
“I don’t think she understands Aemond. In Valyrian or common tongue.” You tease, leaning forward to take your daughter from your husbands arms.
It takes a mighty tug from you however with how strong she held onto Aemonds silver locks, and the fact that as soon as she was in her muñas arms, she began to pout and wet her eyes with the promise of further tears and a mighty tantrum if she isn’t placed back into her kepas arms as quickly as possible.
And of course, being the father wrapped tightly around his daughters finger he was, Aemond quickly takes her right back so he can hold her tightly against his chest and soothe her.
“Shhh it is alright byka dārilaros…” Aemond coos, rocking her in his arms as she begins to slowly calm herself down and close her eyes. “Kepa would never let anything happen to you or to muña. Sleep byka dārilaros, and we shall awake tomorrow with a smile. And if you're extra good in the morning, we can arrange a playdate with your cousins.”
“You’re so good with her.” You cannot help but comment, moving forward so you can lay your head on his shoulder and hum in delight as Aemond tilts his head to lay a delicate feather-like kiss against your skin.
As soon as Hermione is fast asleep against Aemonds chest, he takes her to the nursery and places her carefully in the crib, placing the stuffed direwolf teddy your brother had made for her in her arms before turning away so he can turn on the moon themed nightlight Hel had gifted you and leave the room with you.
The two of you make quick work of clearing the house up after a hectic day of Hermione and uncle Aegons unique chaos, and as soon as the last wooden block is put back in its rightful place, the pyjamas were put on and the lights dimmed as the two of you made quick work sleeping peacefully in each others arms.
Though it seems the peace last only that night, since that next morning, Aemonds hopeful words that Hermione would wake up with a smile came with a price it seemed. As while yes, Aemond was delighted that his precious daughter was giggling and acting like the angel he knew her to be, she somehow managed to do all that while yanking at his hair so badly he truly feared for his roots.
"Ow! Hermione don't pull daddy's hair- OW! you have a strong grip there Hermione!" Aemond forcibly smiled while he tried to hide his very obvious winces and groans of pain, all in favour of keeping his sweet girl happy.
"Aemond, do you need any help?" You try to ask, wincing yourself when you see Hermione actually manage to take a strand or two out with her bare hands and flutter down to the floor below.
"Nope!" He says, very strained, you would say. "When is Helaena getting here with the twins by the way?"
"About an hour. Why? Can't fend off the ferocious princess?" You tease, walking up to the two and swooping said princess into your own arms. Thankfully, it seems today she's decided to tolerate her munas presence as she lightly grabs at your own hair and puts it in her mouth for a nibble. She only tugs on her favourite hair it seems.
"A knight can only do so much." Aemond eventually admits, sitting up properly as he rubs at the places where Hermione tugged at the most.
"You do know you can say no to her right? She's our princess. Not an evil witch my sweet knight." You grin, sitting down next to Aemond and giggling when he gives you a sweet kiss on your blushing cheek.
"And you're the delectable queen whose sworn protector can never get enough of..." He murmurs, kissing your cheek once more and chuckling as he feels the heat difference from moments before.
To be honest, you almost managed to forget about the princess in your arms until she begins to giggle again, still with your hair between her lips.
"Is that right nuha dārilaros? Is muna a queen?" Aemond coos, both you and him smiling proud as she excitedly wriggles in your arms with her hands in the air as if to give a wholehearted agreement. "Well, our princess is never wrong!" He smiles.
"Never." You grin back, pulling in Aemond for a quick kiss that he reciprocates immediately with zero hesitation. If there wasn't the familiar sound of the doorbell followed by the sweet noise of excitement from Hermione, you no doubt would've continued.
Which, after Helaena strapped Hermione in the back with the twins while her frankly cute as heck girlfriend sat in the front and drove off, is exactly what you did.
The two of you practically molded against each other as two became one. Your hands couldn't keep themselves away from touching his chest and fiddling with the long smooth silky strands of his hair. Before in the past, Aemond almost had a particular fondness for you touching and delicately tugging at his hair, with it being a sensitive area for him after all.
Yet when you do this now, instead of being met with that soft sigh of his that drives you insane with need, you're met with a painful whine that forces you to practically leap to the other side of the couch in surprise and fear for your lovers well-being.
"What's wrong Aemond?!" You quickly ask, moving forward again to take his face in your palms.
"I think Hermione might've played a bit too hard with my hair this time ñuha jorrāelagon." He says, rubbing at the spot with his palm. For a minute, Aemond is calm as he appears to think about something. Then he turns to you with his eyes furrowed like he usually does whenever he's in deep thought on something. "Do you remember that idea I had last week? The one I had on Tuesday after we put Hermione to bed?"
You had to think about it for a second given how vague he was being, but when you remember exactly what he was insinuating, you couldn't help but gasp in disbelief. "You cannot be serious!?"
"I'm afraid I am. As much as I love our princess, I don't think my hair can take it anymore... and besides, You can do it. Which does put me at ease."
"By the sakes of the gods fine! I'll try to find my hairdressing kit somewhere in the rubble of the junk room!" You sigh, giving Aemond a final peck on the corner of his lips before moving in said junk room, knowing you'll no doubt be taking about an hour to find the kit you bought a year ago on a whim but never ended up using.
Still, no better time than the present!
After eventually finding the darn thing though, you got Aemond set up in the bathroom on your dresser stool. A spare sheet was draped on the floor to catch the fallen hair, with another round Aemonds shoulders to keep his clothes/skin hair free. You set the bag of hair products and equipment on the ledge by the sink, and let Aemonds hair free as it ran down his back and over his left eye.
"Aemond are you sure about this...?" You carefully ask, catching his eye as he looks at himself in the mirror.
"Yes, I know it's hard but it will grow back. It's just hair Stark." Aemond finally says, his face looking unusually cold as he uses the nickname he gave you from years ago before you were both dating.
"Oh it's not that, it's our daughter. You know she'll throw a fit." You try to explain, yet that doesn't seem to faze him one bit. You suppose looking at him with how he's glaring at his reflection, now you can understand exactly why his nickname in high school was 'The Iceberg'.
"You're being silly Stark, let's get this over with." Aemond scoffs, firmly glaring at you that to most people would seem cold and slightly scary, exactly like how the infamous iceberg would've been. But to you, it's just like something you'd see off one of those grumpy cat videos you see on your social media for you page.
There's not much it seems you can do about it, given how experienced you are at dealing with Aemonds annoyingly stubborn nature. So you simply sigh and under your breath murmur a few words before you begin cutting.
"I tried to warn you..."
By the time Helaena had texted you to let you know they'll be dropping Hermione back off at yours and Aemonds house, Aemonds hair has been cut significantly shorter.
"It's shorter than Aegons..." You can't help but sigh, mourning his long hair as you run your fingers through its remains. "What am I even gonna be able to hold anymore? Nothing I tell you! Nothing!"
"It was for the best!" Aemond tries to reassure you, though with how you can clearly see his lips jutted in a pout, you can't help but feel reminded of Hermiones own. It seems you finally figured out where she gets her grumpy side from. Speaking of Hermione...
As soon as Aemond opens the door to thank Helaena for the sudden play date, her eyes immediately widen in shock and horror. So wide in fact you can't help but begin cackling like a witch in the background. Aemond though is just focused on his little princess, so he ignores her and the original task he was supposed to do, leaving you to thank Helaena properly while you try to calm down your laughter.
"What the fuck has he done to his hair?!" Helaena murmurs, keeping her volume careful given that Hermiones only recently begun to mimic words, as discovered by her Uncle Aegon only the day before...
"Hermione keeps grabbing it." You explain. "She even managed to pull some strands out so Aemond just had enough and demanded I cut it for him today. Trust me, we all mourn the curls... Hermione no doubt the most. I should probably go witness this so I can tell him the I told him so within the moment. Still, thanks so much for the day! We can discuss having the twins over next week okay?"
"Yep sounds good! Text me Hermiones reaction in detail later!"
"Will do! Thanks again Hel!" You say as you close the door and honest to the gods speed walk to the living room, just in time for the show...
You can see Aemond smiling hopefully at Hermione, who's just perched on his lap looking up at him in confusion while they both sit on the sofa.
"Hermione, what do you think of daddy's new haircut?" He says, still looking hopeful at his precious daughter. That is however, until her face begins to contort into one you and Aemond both recognise well. A face of pure and utter sadness as tears begin to run heavy down her cheek and her voice releases a loud screech of sorrow.
"No nono! Don't cry! Hermione!! Daddy's here, it will grow back!! Don't cry!!" Your poor lover begs while your daughter still weeps for the loss of her favourite past time, and for in a way, her daddy himself.
"I told you that our daughter would throw a fit..." You say, watching as Aemond turns to you with a face of pure desperation while Hermione still shrieks in his arms.
"Please my love. Help me." He begs, his eye full of despair as he's forced to watch his beloved little princess weep before him. So like the amazing parent you were, you strode over and took Hermione in your arms and cooed at her until she was just hiccuping and looking at you with wet cheeks.
"Did you not like the strange man sweetie?" You teased, giggling as you saw Aemonds look of pure betrayal directed solely at you. Still, you had to feel bad for him, so as you bounced Hermione in your arms you took her back over to Aemond who looked back at her with a hopeful expression.
"It's kepa sweetie!" You tried to convince, but with how her eyebrows seemed to furrow in the most adorable looking scowl, you don't think she was exactly ready to believe you right now.
"Don't you dare say it..." Aemond groans, his own eyebrows furrowed exactly like the baby in front of the two of you was doing.
"I told you so!" You sing instead, giggling as he rolls his eye next to you. "You're gonna have to wait for her to get used to you all over again Aemond. I'm sorry, but you did take away the most definable feature of yours from her!"
"Ah yes, cause our daughter has met so many men these days with one-eye..." He grumbles beside you, causing you to laugh softly as you kiss the side of his face in an act of comfort he leans into gratefully.
"Well, you were always praising our daughter for never taking notice of it when you first showed it to her."
"Sure sure blame the victim..." He grumbles, wistfully sighing once more as he makes eye contact with his glaring daughter. "I love you byka dārilaros, know that." He tries to kiss the top of her head in a final act of affection, but to your greatest amusement and Aemonds greatest horror, Hermione uses her scrunched up fists to hit the side of Aemonds face away with a mighty yell.
"Told you. Gonna need to get her used to you..." You say, moving Aemond closer so you could kiss the area between his furrowed brows. And from the way they felt against your lips, you knew you'd need to give him plenty of affection until Hermione miraculously remembers one morning that she has a daddy with short silver hair.
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Valyrian translation bit (literally one sentence): Kostilus ñuha byka dārilaros, ivestragī jikagon hen ñuha ōghar - please my little princess, let go of my hair
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takami-takami · 1 year ago
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Anew.
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includes— hawks x reader. angst. hurt/comfort. minors dni.
warnings— gn!reader. loss of wings and regrowth. nightmares. keigo tends to your wounds. blood description.
You lose your wings for the first time. It does not feel like the first time, but Keigo is there to patch your wounds. Keigo is always there to patch your wounds.
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Keigo knew a thing or two about sprouting new feathers from the flesh of one's back. The splintering of new appendages, raw and awakened for the first time like freshly-birthed infants from the womb.
He cared for your seraphic wings. Preened them like his own quirk, cleaned them as if they were sewn to his own back.
Taught you how to care for them, too. 
Taught you for the first time the truth, that they grow back. Soothed your worries that they never would.
Taught you how the ache means it's working. Means there's feathers bubbling anew, waiting to burst forth from the flesh. 
Keigo sat with you in the living room at three in the morning. You had screamed yourself awake again that night, the whimpering in your sleep morphed to aching, pained howls. Like night terrors, the sting of it, night terrors that didn't stop when you awoke.
You knelt on the floor with Keigo at your back on the couch. The room was silent and dim, save for the distant crackling of the fireplace. Your eyes remained locked forward, watching the burning pyre stoke itself to life, swallowing more oxygen to burn. The light of it flickered like fireflies in shades of warm amber and cold red, blinking awake and asleep.
The color red bubbled in tiny dots around the growth site of your new wings. Keigo said nothing as he dabbed cotton rounds designed for skincare against the blood. You both slept at your place last night, so he didn't have access to the usual supplies he tended to patch his own feathers up with. He would make do.
Keigo's wings were in relatively good shape that day; a little stubbier than usual, still recovering from being seared to the base from a fight with Dabi.
The white of the cotton soaked up your red. You didn't wince, but Keigo hummed an appreciative sound for your bravery regardless. 
"How many times have you lost yours," you whispered. 
The question was meek. Tentative. Keigo didn't wince, but you placed an appreciative hand on his knee for his bravery regardless.
"Mm. Lost count a long time ago, dove," he said, and shifted to rummage through your first aid kit for antiseptic ointment. 
At that, you stiffened, causing Keigo to halt in his verbal tracks to clarify.
"It's not necessarily a bad thing— not to me, at least," he continued, squeezing a dollop onto his thumb to apply to your wound. "Kinda reminds me that they can still grow back, in a way. Like I'm challenging the big, bad mother hen that's nature, ya' know?"
You suppressed a snort, barely able to hold back a smile. 
"You would say that," you chided.
"Oh, whatever do you mean?"
You rolled your eyes. "That. Anyone ever tell you that you're more like a puppy than a bird?"
"If you count as anyone, then yes, dove. You're special, though." Keigo pulled back, getting a better look at his handiwork. "Stretch them out for me, 'kay? Need to see how far they're coming along."
With painstaking effort, you complied. 
Judging by the pleased hum, your wings must have been coming along quite nicely— not that you'd know the difference, of course.
You've never healed before.
"Keigo?"
"Mm?"
"Does it ever stop hurting?"
He paused.
You were worth so much more. You were worth so much more than this and it splintered Keigo's heart, made him want to clutch you to his chest. And so he did, kneeling down behind you and wrapping his arms around your center.
You felt his chin move slightly atop your head when he spoke.
"It does. And then it hurts again, but you're stronger." A kiss on your hair. "And then it stops, and then it starts again, and every time it tries to swallow you, but you get bigger and bigger." A kiss to your temple. "Until the hurt can't fit you inside it anymore. And you wonder why you were ever so scared to feel it in the first place."
Your eyes burned more than your back. They burned more than the cinder of your fireplace.
"And I love you," Keigo added. "And you're going to be okay. I swear to God, dove, you're going to be okay."
"You promise," you asked, leaning into the warmth that enveloped your heart.
"I swear on my wings."
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faeriesandfolklore · 2 months ago
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A harpy, exiled from her flock, roaming the countryside looking for her meals. The people of your town complain of their crops being devoured, of chickens and sheep going missing or being found slaughtered. Rumors of hungry wolves and violent coyotes fill the town, and all are warned against being out after dark. 
When you hear your hen squawking late one night, though, you rush outside with an oil lamp to see the commotion. That is when you see her- the most beautiful woman you can imagine, all flowing dark hair and golden skin, eyes as wide as the moon itself. She looks like any other woman, except her arms are crowded with coarse fathers, dark as a raven’s. Her nose is long and curved, like a beak. 
She is hunched over the coop, hissing. A forked tongue escapes her lips. 
You are not sure what to do. She is a harpy, yes, but she is clearly scared. A young woman, your age. Her eyes shine with fear. Her ribs are protruding, her skin greying. She looks as if she has not had a good, true meal in weeks. 
Slowly, you hold out your hand. “Please do not eat my hen. She is very dear to me. My elder brother has venison stored, and I can make you a stew.”
She blinks, her owlish eyes widening. She clicks her tongue, and then slowly takes your hand. 
After that night, she does not leave your side. It takes some time for her to truly grow used to you. At first she is skittish, jumping away when you get too close, hissing when you bump into her. But she quickly grows comfortable, bringing you field mice and chasing foxes away from the henhouse. 
She cannot speak your language- hers seems to be one of grunts and strange keens, sounds that you cannot replicate. But you are slowly able to teach her to write. She learns the alphabet, then the words for the things around you. Hearth. Deer. Hen. 
You decide to name her Athena, finding her resemblance to hawks outrageously uncanny. She is funny, too, taking to writing jokes whenever something outlandish happens, or letting out a startling grunt. She takes to cuddling with you in the winters, her feathers bushing out to trap warmth in both of your bodies. 
One night, as you do a puzzle at her side, she is writing in her notebook. She seems to be working very hard to decide what to say, before she sticks out her tongue and scribbles again. Athena seems proud of herself, then, ripping off the sheet and placing it before you. 
I am your wife?
The words startle you at first, but are not very surprising. You two have found great companionship with one another, sleeping together during the cold winter nights and tending to the hens. You wrap your arm around your waist, where she fits her head into the crook of your neck. 
“Yes,” you say softly. “I suppose you are.”
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porters-fangs · 3 months ago
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aster presents
giving the redacted couples a pet !
operating under the assumption that they eventually move in together/establish a relationship if they haven’t already ofc :3
(this is very headcanon heavy, so if you’re allergic to other people’s opinions pls keep scrolling 🫶)
• David & Angel - Guinea Pigs
You’d think that the wolf shifters would have dogs, and you’d be wrong. They actually get incredibly antsy when there’s another dog in the house, replacing their scent. It’s their territory, and it feels like a threat when another canine comes along - even another member of the pack.
And so, when Angel came home with two squeaking guinea pigs one day, toppling over each other to crawl into his lap, David was thrilled pleasantly surprised.
• Asher & Baaabe - Pigeon
Asher found a pigeon on the side of the road on his way home from work, cowering by the curb, one of its wings broken and bleeding. Being the tender person that he is, he bundled it up in his hoodie and drove home with it in his lap, muttering over and over about how everything would be okay.
Babe gave it a bath while Asher made up a little bed for it, and they called the vet in the morning to see if there was anything else they could do. Long story short, that pigeon is the luckiest bird in the world.
• Milo & Sweetheart - Chinchilla
Now, of course they have Aggro. But that’s too easy. Either as an alternative (or an additional pet, why not)-
Sweetheart has always been a huge fan of exotic pets. As a child, they had practically every animal under the sun - except for their dream pet.
Milo was more than happy to oblige, and they spent a few months converting one of their spare rooms into a the perfect space for their new baby. Sweetheart spends every day after work doting on the little fluffball, sat in the large playpen to let the stress of work seep from their bones.
And Milo wasn’t unhappy with the arrangement either. He’ll regularly hand the little guy a post-it note (usually something along the lines of “fuck you chrissy”) take a picture, and send it to the group chat. Christian isn’t a huge fan.
• Sam & Darlin - Chickens
As a kid, Sam used to have a gorgeous border collie that he had to leave behind when he ran away, and that kills him inside. But he’d never subject Darlin to feeling on edge in their own home for the sake of reliving that bond.
So they have chickens.
Does Darlin threaten to storm the coop every time Sam makes a good point in an argument? Maybe
But Sam also finds them asleep in the hen house after a long day of work, leaning against the doorframe fondly as he watches them snore beneath a pile of feathers.
• Vincent & Lovely - German Shepherd
A stunning couple needs an equally stunning dog.
Do they really need a guard dog? No, not at all. But that beautiful dog and its sleek black coat could rip a man’s arm off almost as easily as they could themselves.
Lovely handles the training, and Vincent watches from a distance, mildly intimidated by the both of them, but also in awe of how gorgeous they are.
• Porter & Treasure - Calico
You can thank my beloved Vinn (@vind3miat0r) for this one 🫶
Treasure has a cat. They found it in an alley after a rough night of their own, hissing and backed up into a corner. It reminded them of themself. They coaxed it back out into the light, bundling it up and driving it home, forgetting all about their friends, still drinking themselves to death in the club.
Before they even met Porter, their adorable little calico kitty kept them sane, nuzzling into their face and lapping at their tears every time they found themself sobbing in bed.
Porter always thought of himself as a dog person.
Porter was wrong.
Porter loves Cinnamon Toast Crunch more than life itself.
Treasure has come home multiple times to find the vampire sprawled out on the sofa with their cat snoozing on his chest, and they swear they fall in love all over again.
• Gavin & Freelancer - Betta Fish
Unfortunately, much to the Freelancer’s chagrin, Gavin is terrified of cats. So, instead, they have a huge fish tank in their kitchen. Call it a compromise.
The Freelancer comes home with more and more fish every time they go to the pet store just to get food, claiming that “it looked so sad :(”
And Gavin had to agree. The way these fish were treated truly was inhumane, and he was more than happy to help the Freelancer name every addition to their tank that came through their front door.
He was also far more fascinated by them than he’d ever anticipated being. He could stare at that tank for hours.
• Lasko & Dear - Frogs
Dear loves frogs. Lasko? Not so much.
When they moved in, he wasn’t expecting the uninvited guests that came with them. He never complained, of course, but he did insist that the tank would reside in the spare room and not the bedroom that he slept in every night. For practical reasons. Not because those bugged eyes and those webbed feet unsettled him.
Not at all.
Although, Dear could’ve sworn they heard him yelp when they opened the little tub of mealworms for feeding time…
He’ll warm up to them.
• Damien & Huxley - Collie
As if Huxley wasn’t enough of a bundle of energy, these two decided that they wanted one of the most active dogs on the planet. It works out surprisingly well for both of them, though.
It joins Huxley on hikes, bounding up the trail ahead of him, tail wagging impatiently as it waits for him to catch up as he laughs into the trees.
It sits at Damien’s side as he pores over his notes, and when the furrow in his brow deepens, it’ll nudge its nose into his hand until he drops the pen, tugging him outside for a walk.
And when they all collapse onto the couch in the evening, a pile of fur and giggles and a thumping tail, everything feels right.
• Elliot & Sunshine - Lovebirds
The pun isn’t lost on me.
They have a gorgeous, bright, mated pair of lovebirds. Whenever the couple catch them nuzzling beaks, Elliot pulls Sunshine’s face to his and brushes his nose over theirs.
Sunshine makes jewellery out of the feathers that molt around the house, and they both have matching necklaces that they wear everywhere.
• Blake & Bestie - California King Snake
Bestie walks around the house with it curled around their neck. Blake thinks it’s hot.
That’s all I have to say.
• Avior & Starlight - Maine Coon
Starlight has a black maine coon named Urania, after the Greek muse of astronomy. She is their pride and joy.
She gets along with Avior incredibly well, and even though he was initially very intimidated by her size, he quickly realised that meant she was in fact the softest and warmest cuddle buddy he could ever ask for.
She sits on Starlight’s lap when they’re reading, purring even after she’s fallen asleep, sometimes reaching out to paw at the pages.
• Anton & Lover - Hedgehog
Another rescue story, except Lover found this little cutie in their backyard while Anton was still away at work. They were too nervous to let it back outside even after they’d nursed it back to health, since its front paw was still a little crooked, so they decided to dedicate a little space for it in their office to keep an eye on it.
When Anton came home a few weeks later, he fell in love with the hedgehog. Literally just spent hours playing with it, giving it little snacks (even after Lover insisted it’d had enough)
And so they gained a new member of their family to keep Lover company when Anton had to go away again. And again.
• Hush & Doc - Stick Insects
Doc loves bugs. This is a fact.
Hush loves bugs. He never knew this.
Doc has a tank of stick insects in their bedroom, and the first time Hush spent the night he asked them why they kept an empty tank. And so Doc pulled out one of their precious babies to show him. And he was absolutely fascinated.
“It’s a living stick?”
“No, it’s an insect that’s adapted to look like a stick. For protection.”
“…Can I touch it?”
They sat on Doc’s bed with the bugs for hours.
• Vega & Warden - Dobermann
Vega values loyalty and obedience. And he adores his dobermann like you wouldn’t believe. If he ever had a soft spot for anything other than Warden, it was that dog.
He trains it meticulously, despite having every capability to protect himself, and praises every milestone.
When it first met Warden, Vega was expecting the usual wariness, for the dog’s ears to flick forward as it appraised them.
Not at all.
For the first time that Vega could remember, it broke heel to launch itself at Warden, licking at their face in excitement. And he didn’t reprimand it. Why would he?
After losing his memories, Vega found a strange familiarity in that dog as it stood by Warden’s side, as though protecting them… from him.
• Guy & Honey - Ferrets
I feel like I don’t need to elaborate.
I will.
They have three.
Honey loves playing with them. They have that macaroni bath and the ferrets love wiggling around while Honey laughs until their ribs hurt.
Guy slips them pizza scraps after his shift, putting his finger over his lips and warning them to stay quiet or else Honey might hear them snacking.
• Aaron & Smartass - Belgian Malinois
It lays under Aaron’s desk while he works from home, nudging his foot with its nose every so often to remind him to take a break.
He often comes home from the office to find Smartass stretched across the couch, having fallen asleep while trying to wait up for him, the dog in their lap. It looks up when he closes the door behind him, clearly unimpressed with his poor punctuality.
That dog has a favourite.
• Ollie & Baby - Hamsters
They have two and both seemed determined to end their little rodent lives early. Ollie and Baby both love them so much, but they’ll wake up to find one with its head poking out between the bars, precariously close to choking, and another just passed out in the wood chips.
The vet bill? Ridiculous.
• Geordi & Cutie - Rabbit
In another life perhaps, they have a very sweet grey rabbit with an attitude. Thumping its paws whenever it isn’t allowed outside immediately when it asks, whenever its dinner is two minutes too late, whenever it’s woken up from its very important nap in the sunlight.
Geordi jokes that it reminds him of Cutie.
• Morgan & Seer Obscura - Mice
Seer Obscura actually saved these mice from lab testing as part of a charity program, and they were planning to adopt them out to close friends - but instead ended up with six mice that they love very much.
They scatter across their shoulders, and sometimes when Morgan brushes a lock of hair back from their face, a little fuzzy nose will poke out from behind their neck, sniffing around.
• Azmidi & Sweetie - Boa Constrictor
Scares the shit out of any visitors they have round.
They enjoy that very much.
Sweetie will fully poke their fingers into the enclosure when feeding it, and has not yet been bitten by some miracle.
No survival instincts, I tell you.
———
okay thank you for joining me on this wonderful journey! i do apologise if any of these are out of character or deviate from the canon - i don’t listen to all of the redacted boys but i do like to try and be inclusive 🫶
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