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 - 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
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.
i'll never stop reliving the pure devastation i felt when i saw an ig post of a guy i met from hinge where he was hanging out with hot rugby player jordan riki in bali
well 🧍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.
you see how i don’t throw a fit when someone writes a fic i’m not interested in reading? very mindful, very considerate, very demure. i’m not like you other girls who go on anon to tell writers you don’t like what they’ve chosen to write about. i simply do not read it and move on. very thoughtful. very cutesy.
-> last attempt. if fuckass tumblr hides it again im gonna p** myself and not in a good way
tagging: @suyacho
“oh, hey, lil cub. what’s on for today?”
there’s only one person in the entire world who calls you ‘lil cub’, and it isn’t even in a demeaning way. everyone is little compared to a giant brute like aoi, but for some reason, he’d adopted you with ‘cub’ after the title.
you look up from your spot by your pigeonhole to see aoi walking over to you. built torso, thick thighs and hair tied up into a bun like it’s his signature look. while the exposed skin on his chest is tantalizing to look at, the real treat comes from the gymshark shorts he wears that does nothing to hide the bulge in between his legs.
“just arms for today,” you look away lest you get caught staring at the most vulnerable part of your gym partner. “something short and quick.”
so you can get you and your ovulating self out of his presence sooner.
“great. i’ll spot you.” he grins as he rests a heavy hand down on your shoulder. like the rest of him, it’s huge and you engage your core to right yourself when his palm tilts you to the side.
you let out a chuckle as you shrug his hand off to slip your hoodie off before stuffing it into your designated box. you’ve stopped feeling bad about taking him away from his workouts, given he’s always been insistent on helping you and to be honest, a man like him doesn’t need to be lifting weights every second of his life anyways. that and you actually appreciate the tips he gives you, at least that’s what you tell yourself.
as you follow after him, his longer legs making him advance in front of you, your eyes fall to his bubble ass that doesn't hide just how he really takes the workouts for every part of his body seriously. you look up to the ceiling, your fingers fumbling with the handle of your water bottle as your womanly instincts kick in.
“actually, aoi,” he looks back at you, a curious eyebrow raised, “i might work on my glutes today. it’s been a while.”
you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked down to your thighs at that very moment but anyone else would probably tell you it was just a blink. “i think that’s a great idea, lil cub.”
you’re stern in telling aoi that you won’t be here for long so he curates a shorter workout for you to do. hip thrusts are first and you attempt to put on a show for your personal spectator, grunting as you exert your strength to push the barbell up into the air, then sighing softly as you lower your hips again. there’s brazen interest in his eyes when you look up at him in between your second and third set but he doesn’t entertain you with anything, taking his role as a personal trainer seriously.
but like it’s some sort of punishment for you, he increases the weights by 10kg in the last set, causing you to struggle with the last rep with clenched teeth and a sound that sounds like too much of a moan than a sound of struggle. as soon as he helps you off the machine he gives you a high five and the image of his hand dwarfing yours has your dizzy mind straightening up immediately.
“good girl.” he completely skips over the unnecessary praise. “that’s the hardest one done. three more to go.”
having aoi as your unofficial personal trainer is truly beneficial, you have to admit. having someone like him encouraging you to increase your weights and praising you has your mentality going haywire, because it feeds into your act of making sounds that should have his resolve cracking by now.
aoi comes back holding two 10kg dumbbells. “you’re doing great, lil cub,” he praises as he hands places the weights down by your feet for you to pick up yourself, following gym safety regulations. “rdls for the last set, 12 reps but i want you to hold the last one for 10 seconds.”
his nose crinkles when he laughs at your glare. “you wanna go a weight lower then?”
you wipe the sweat off the bridge of your nose if only to hide your face from him for a short second before you shake your head, “no, i think i can do it.” you bend down to pick the weights up before standing into the correct posture. shoulders tight, core engaged and your feet shoulder width apart.
a quick scan through the mirror at the rest of the gym makes you realize you two are the only ones left in the premises. which is the only reason you’re confident enough to say what you’re about to say. “it has been a while though. do you mind helping with my form?” you indulge him with a sultry gaze through your lashes.
as if he recognises what you’re doing, aoi steps closer and rests a hand on the small of your back. “‘course, lil cub. that’s what i’m here for, no?”
you barely even finish the second set.
exactly twenty two minutes later, you’re stumbling down the hallway of aoi’s apartment, the faux promise of him giving you your last workout at his place in the back of your mind as your lips clash together in a hungry duel for each other’s taste.
“i have to warn you, though, lil cub.” he says in between desperate kisses before he bursts into his bedroom. “i’m big. like really big.” you pull back to see nothing but pure honesty in his eyes. none of the smugness that would usually come from a guy warning their potential partner about the gigantic size of their dick. “so, if you want to tap out, no hard feelings.”
the warning doesn’t serve as one to you, if anything it only makes you more excited and inclines you to press your stomach up against his crotch. if the weight of it is anything to go by, you can already feel your walls lubricating itself up with your arousal. “that’s not very pt of you,” you taunt, hands grazing down to the hem of his matching gymshark t-shirt. you pull it over his head to rid him of the clothing, “i thought i was here for my last set.”
eager to stump your confidence, aoi picks you up with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. your feet hang in the air as the top of your head hits the ceiling, only possible given his height. “then take these off.” he pinches at your loose t-shirt and you fumble to pull it off your head.
the second the first sliver of your skin is exposed, aoi’s mouth descends onto it, pressing kisses along your skin and warming your entire body through it. his tongue darts out to lick your skin, still salty from your workout, before it travels up to your chest once you remove your sports bra. he groans into you before he closes his lips on your soft stomach, sucking your skin and licking what hasn’t been cleaned off with his spit.
aoi’s eyes, which had been previously closed as he cleaned off the ambrosia left on your skin, flutters open to see you staring down at him, clear desperation in your eyes, your brows furrowed and mouth opened to breathe heavy pants into the air. he groans. “fuck no, i can’t wait anymore.”
you’re quickly dropped down, yelping and grabbing onto whatever body part of his on your way down before your knees land on the floor without the pain and his hands supporting you under your arms. you look up at him, his monstrous height making him feel like he’s triple your size.
but that’s not what you’re focused on. what grabs your attention is his hand disappearing into his shorts, shuffling inside before he grunts out a sound of annoyance and his other fist yanks his shorts down. like a cinematic piece, you watch as his hand draws out his cock, which had been tucked into the right side of his boxers, out of the restriction of his shorts that falls down to pool around his feet.
half-hard, as thick as the circumference of your clenched fist and a generous 10 inches, you almost tear up at the sight. dripping pre-cum from the slit glistens like a crystal chandelier under the light. heavy balls that you want to smother your face into. nothing could compare to this. you’re struck with awe like you’re witnessing the 8th wonder of the world.
you let out a sigh and aoi grins, runs his large thumb down the length of his cock, which droops down due its weight, before it runs off the tip of his head and springs up to slap your chin. “close your mouth before you start to drool.” he says with a loud laugh. “actually, no. keep it open.” he prods the tip of his cock against your slightly parted lips, urging him to slip his cock into your hot mouth.
“it’ll fit,” he promises as if he can see the panic in your eyes, “just let me get the angle right.”
your lips burn as they stretch to accommodate the thick girth of him at the halfway point. at this point is when your eyes start tearing up, another inch and those tears are slipping down your cheeks as your head tilts back for him to descend his hips onto your face. another inch and he’s three quarters of the way while you gag violently around him. a deep inhale through your nose has you recollecting yourself before your source of air is cut off when he hilts himself into your mouth and your nostrils fill up with the soft curls on his pelvis.
your eyes blink open before snapping shut when they catch a glimpse of his pursed lips and the feeling of his warm spit landing at your eyes warms your face.
“ah- just missed it.” aoi tsks before pulling his cock halfway out before thrusting it back in. his head tips back at the glorious sound of you gagging and choking around his intrusion and subjects you to a few minutes of some brutal and honest face fucking. by the time he pulls out, your shorts and thighs are stained with spit and precum, tits dripping with the same mixture and the lower part of your face dampened in filth.
“you always make me so proud, lil cub.” he praises but demeans you at the same time with harsh taps to the side of your face, which probably wasn’t his intention but inevitable given the heaviness of his hands. “so pretty.” he compliments as he examines your state.
you whine as you fidget in your spot, hands moving to spread the wetness all over yourself. “a-aoi. c’mon.”
“you wanna get played with, huh, cub?” he hums, his hands cupping the side of your head and tilting your skull around, marveling at how your eyes follow him no matter which way he turns your head. “need something to sweat out, hm?”
he grunts as he bends down, slots an arm between your thighs and hooks you up from your crotch. you yelp when he spins you around so your head is dangling along with his dick. your tongue peaks out to grace it with a kitten lick before your mouth falls open when aoi’s face smothers itself into your wet shorts.
“you smell so nice, cub.” he huffs. if his dick struggling to fit in your mouth hadn’t made you aware of the drastic size difference between the two of you, then having his face pressed right into your cunt would do it for you. tightening your legs around his head doesn’t sway him from sucking a wet spot into the fabric where your hole would be, instead it just holds him there and doesn’t deter him from your pussy.
with careful hands, because he knows you’re still sane enough to scold him at one wrong move, he places you down on the bed and pulls your shorts and thin panties off. he flings the latter off to the side, making sure it slips between his bedside drawer and the wall so you’ll give up looking for it when you inevitably leave.
with your entire body now bare, he buries himself in between your thighs, your sore muscles granted reprieve by relaxing against his warm shoulders as opposed to floating in the air.
“beautiful fucking pussy,” he groans into your folds, “i could drink you up.”
the words you would have replied with die in your mouth when aoi dips his tongue into your hole, making a show of closing his lips around your opening and slurping the juices that coat his tongue. he’s relentless in the way his entire mouth covers pussy, the heat emanating from him making your toes curl all while your hands fly to the loose bun on his head to hold him still. he’s purposely avoiding your clit and you can tell because his head’s at an awkward position where he’s close enough for his mouth to encompass your heat but the tip of his nose avoids rubbing against your clit, making the warm breaths he’s exhaling into your bud warm your body up even further.
his tongue works in lapping everything you have to offer, dark eyes zoning in on your expression that you don’t hide away from. your head is tilted up to look at him but every flick of his tongue inside you has your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening in a silent scream.
but aoi’s patience only runs for so long and as much as he’d love to die and suffocate himself in your pussy, the ache of his rock hard cock chafing against the fabric of his mattress has him going insane. without a word to disrupt his momentum, he pulls his tongue out and closes his mouth around your clit, sucking on it hard enough for your back to arch and your heels to kick at his back. he holds you down with a heavy hand while the other sinks two fingers into your dripping heat. “ah… wait, aoi, nnh! i c-can’t–” you gasp, words falling out of your mind when your stomach begins to warm up as a hint of your impending orgasm.
he ignores your sounds in favor of each thrust that he drags out, focusing on curling his fingers upwards and running against the roof of your walls. you full on go lightheaded when he pulls his fingers out halfway before ramming it back inside, the tips of his fingers rubbing against your walls in a come hither motion on repeat causing your orgasm to wash over you. your mind blanks in what you can only describe as the best climax from getting head you’ve ever had. only thing you can hear and feel is aoi groaning into you as your juices flood into his mouth.
the loud suckling noises don’t cease your orgasm in any way, if anything it makes it last what feels like an eternity before you come down, twitching and whining into the air. your lungs work in overdrive trying to gather air back into it but you’re not given the chance to properly recover when aoi’s face hovers above yours. only then do you realize the tingling in your pussy was from the aftershocks of your orgasm and not the feeling of his mouth overstimulating you. something in your mind feels disappointed about the fact.
satisfied with how quickly relaxed you become, aoi eases three fingers inside you, watching with a smug grin when you wince at the stretch of the third finger’s addition. “gotta stretch you out some more, cub. as much as it’d be nice to see you cry even more for me,” he pauses to lick the embarrassing streak of tears down your cheeka, “it’s not gonna be good for you in the long run.”
“ahh– i can- i can take it.” you push on, grinding your hips against his knuckles to ease another finger inside.
“i’m sure you can. my little cub knows how to push herself.” he says as he pulls his fingers out. aoi’s eyes grow dark as they encourage your gaze to stay on his, entire attention focused on him that you only realize what he’s distracting you from when the blunt head of his cock pushes into your hole and makes no move in slowing to accommodate you. “but it’s more for my sake, so your tight pussy doesn’t cut my dick off before i even get myself inside.”
and just like that, you’re forced to take it. him pushing his hips further and further down while his huge cock positively splits you open. the silence is disturbed with your pants and moans of his name that flood out in a series of babbles that would’ve been incoherent if aoi wasn’t slipping into the same state of fucked out bliss like you were.
“there we go,” he says after another agonizing few seconds, you can just make out the press of his balls against your ass when he looks down at you. his hands are cupped on the juncture between your neck and shoulders and you don’t get the time to wonder why when he uses his hold on you as leverage to pull his hips back and slam back into you, quickly building a rapid pace that has you screaming with nothing to ground you but the thin bed sheets that are threatening to rip apart in your fists.
“a-aoi. i- n’ver been fuc-fugged this good,” you wail, being forced to take his brutal thrusts with how his hold on you doesn’t allow you to fidget up the mattress.
the compliment doesn’t fly over aoi’s head as he grins and leans down to lick at your open mouth, your tongue immediately flicking out for him to crudely lap at before he purses his lips and hacks a glob of spit onto your awaiting tongue. “yeah i can tell, cub. and you’ll never get anyone to fuck you this good again.” he says like it’s a promise.
like some cringy monologue, he gives a deranged speech with the sound of his hips slapping against yours as background music. “been wanting to fuck you since the very first day.” he releases one hand from your shoulder to decorate your thigh with a hard slap, “wanted to break you since then. didn’t think i’d get there because of how head plap fucking plap strong plap you are, but look at you now.” he sneers in a menacing look but he purses his lips and lands another serving of spit onto your barely open eyes. he chuckles breathlessly when your tongue makes a useless attempt to lick at the added warm puddle on your face. “my broken little fucktoy.” he praises demeaningly.
“aoi.” you breathe his name out like it’s the only sound you can make on top of the pathetic “nnh- don’t stop, please don’t stop. it’s too much… pl-please gimme more–”
in his mind, aoi promises to give you nothing if not more.
“you wan’ more, huh, cub? you think i have more to give you?” he returns his hand by your hip to your face, smothering you and mixing the mess of spit and sweat into your skin, “i’m over here wrecking your precious little cunt and you’re still asking for more? what more could you possibly want?”
“you– your cum… please aoi.” your mind has some semblance to come up with a logical answer quickly which doesn’t satify aoi as much as it should. without warning he pulls out and flips you around and rams his cock back inside you before you even get the chance to whine.
“let this be the arm workout you would’ve done today.” he bites into your earlobe as he speaks, hunching over you and pressing his sweaty chest against your just as sweaty back. “keep yourself up and then i’ll flood your stomach with my cum.” he promises before standing up on his knees, his hands tightly gripping your hips, he leans back and uses that momentum to thrust his hips upwards, cock slamming into you with no reprieve for you whatsoever.
keeping his words in mind, you mindlessly babble your gratefulness to him as your arms wobble but stubbornly force yourself to stay up. it isn’t long until the head of his cock meeting your sensitive spot overwhelms you, your body tightening up and your arms feeling like jelly as you squeeze around his cock in an orgasm that you can’t hold back no matter how hard you try. “cumming, aoi. ‘mgumming!” you groan as your eyes flutter shut, body pretty much going lax at the powerful orgasm.
“keep your head up.” he takes a hand to cup your neck from the front, forcing your head upwards in a dangerous bend. “got so much fucking tighter, fucking sshh-it.” he grunts, granting you one two three more thrusts before his hips ram into you, cock expanding and deflating while warm cum fills up your inside. you almost swear you can feel it filling your womb up, a special place in your stomach that desperately drinks his cum like it has a mind of it’s own.
the room is filled with tired sounds of disbelief as you come down from your high. aoi is stock still, palming your ass as he throbs minutely inside you. he lands a harsh spank on your ass, causing you to yelp and fall to your face when your arms give out underneath you.
grunting his displeasure, he presses a hand down the small of your back as his hips rear back, ready to subject you to another round of his cock damaging your insides. “aoi… gimme a… sec…hah… i can’t–” you hide your face in your hands with a small wail, sanity crumbling with every slap from aoi’s hard hips to your softer in comparison ass cheeks.
his hand cups your throat again, squeezing it as a warning as he pulls you up to your hands again. “no, cub. i told you to keep yourself up. we’re not done for today until we do three more sets of this.” he grins at your whine as his hips pick up even more momentum. “what kind of gym buddy would i be if i didn’t push you to your limits, hm?”
I am Amira, the breadwinner for my family after my father's death. We were forced to flee to the southern part of Gaza after the war intensified. Our home, my university, and my workplace were bombed😢.
We are now in desperate need to escape this danger and continue my dream and educational and professional journey💔. I kindly ask you to donate or share the campaign link. Your support can save our lives and give us a chance to live in peace🍉.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart🙏.
of course!! i wish you and your family all the best ❤️
When sorrow and difficulties strike hard, hope becomes the lone star in the dark sky. This is the story of Amira, a 23-year-old girl who found herself bearing the burden of her family after her father's death three years ago due to the coronavirus.
When sorrow and difficulties strike hard, hope becomes the lo… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Amira's Story: Between Hope and Resil
After my father's passing, I found myself taking care of my family, consisting of my mother, sister Noor, and brother Abdulrahman. My mother, suffering from high blood pressure and diabetes, faces health problems that further complicate their situation. But courage and determination drive Amira forward.
I worked as a teaching assistant at the university while pursuing a master's degree in data science, and also worked as a programmer in a company. My life was going smoothly until war came and destroyed everything.
My university, workplace, and home were completely destroyed, forcing them to flee south in search of a safe haven. Now, I and my family live in tents for displaced people in Deir al-Balah, where they suffer from water shortages and the spread of diseases, posing an additional challenge, especially for my immunocompromised mother.
This is a brief about our daily suffering.
Please help me, my mother, my sister and my brother to go out to treat my mother because she suffers from widespread diseases because her immunity is weak and help us to complete our educational journey, me and my brother
When sorrow and difficulties strike hard, hope becomes the lo… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Amira's Story: Between Hope and Resil
Everyone, this is a legitimate campaign. It's # 264 on the list of fundraisers that have been verified by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi .
Helping Ahmed's Family: Escaping War to a New Life
I am Ahmed Alanqer, a 35-year-old Palestinian man from Gaza. My life revolved around my small family: my wife Dina and our four children: Zeina, Eileen, Yamen, and finally, Ronza, who was born amidst the shelling just a month ago.
Hello,,
I'm Abdallah Alanqar, originally from Palestine but cu… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Helping Ahmed's Family: Escaping
Help support Ahmed Alanqar by donating or sharing with your friends.
My story is a cry from the heart of hell. The war on Gaza began, bringing with it destruction that engulfed everything around us.
Our home, which was our only refuge and safe haven, turned into a pile of rubble. We were forced to flee south in search of safety, but what we found there was even harsher.
In the south, we found only suffering and hardship. No shelter, no water, no food. We moved between Nuseirat and Deir al-Balah, searching for a safe haven for our children, but we found only shelling and destruction. My wife Dina was pregnant, yet we found no hospitals or medical services to monitor her condition. My children fell ill with measles, chickenpox, and hepatitis, with no one to treat them.
My children grow under the scorching sun inside cramped tents, where life forces them to endure intense heat and mosquitoes. Life there is not just life; it's a sea of daily challenges, facing shortages in everything from clean water to basic healthcare.They deserve to be in a safe place, away from the constant fear of airstrikes and harsh weather conditions. They need support and assistance to regain their innocence and live a dignified childhood.
Let's stand by them, support them in every way we can, because helping them today is an investment in their future and ours too.
Life here has become an endless nightmare. I lost my source of income; my job as an accountant and the company I worked for were destroyed, and my recently imported goods vanished under the rubble. We are left without income, without hope, without a future. Each passing day feels like we are inching closer to the abyss.
My goal now is to save my children. I want them to have a better life, where they can go to school, receive medical care, drink clean water, and live in safety. But the cost of travel is exorbitant. $5000 per adult and $2500 per child, and I am unable to secure these amounts.
I reach out to you today, from the depths of my suffering, pleading for help. I know there are those who listen, those who have the power to change things. Your assistance is not just financial support; it is a lifeline for my family, a new hope for innocent children who have known only cruelty in life.
Hello,,
I'm Abdallah Alanqar, originally from Palestine but cu… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Helping Ahmed's Family: Escaping
https://gofund.me/35c30c67
Please, help me take my family out of this hell. Help me give my children a chance at a dignified and safe life. ❤️🩹🙏💔
Thank you for any help you can provide. It is not just assistance; it is hope, it is life. 🙏❤️🩹🙏
I'm Amal, 33 years old. My husband Eyad is 39, and we have seven children: Hala (15), Nour (13), Abdelrahman (11), Mohammed (9), Omar (6), Ahmed (4), and baby Hoor, just 7 months old.
Hello,
I'm Amal, 33 years old. My husband Eyad is 39, and we have … Amal Alanqar needs your support for Hope and Safety for Amal and He
In the blink of an eye, we awoke to a devastating barrage of bombs. The war had begun, and soon tanks surrounded us as the northern Gaza Strip was declared off-limits. We fled immediately from the north, leaving behind my husband who had to stay with his elderly father who cannot walk. The presence of checkpoints and the prohibition of vehicles forced my husband to remain in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood in the north of Gaza.
My four-year-old son, Ahmed, suffers from diabetes. It is a constant struggle to find insulin injections and test strips. Weeks go by without being able to check his sugar levels, leaving me in fear of whether his levels are too high or too low.
Ahmed's condition break my heart
My children are the love of my life
I fled on foot, just ten days after giving birth. I carried my ten-day-old baby and my other young children, alone, fighting for their safety. A few days later, the northern Gaza Strip was completely isolated, leaving my husband trapped.
I cannot bear the panic attacks that Hoor suffers from the constant bombing
It was incredibly difficult to care for my children without my husband, moving from one place to another. I finally sought refuge in a shelter school in Deir Al-Balah.
My children have been deprived of their father, who used to provide all their needs. Their schooling has been halted, and their mental health is in ruins due to the war. My baby girl cannot get proper nutrition and is unable to sleep due to the constant sounds of bombs.
We share our room at school with 40 people, lacking water and sanitary supplies
My husband remains in the north, experiencing severe famine. Periodically, I manage to contact him, learning that he is still alive, but his situation is dire.
We want to escape Gaza and survive this tragic war, to build a decent life for my family, providing the basics of life: food, medical care, and a safe home.
Your donations can make a world of difference for us. Every dollar can help us escape this nightmare and start anew. Your generosity can reunite our family, provide essential medical care for Ahmed, and ensure my children grow up in a peaceful environment.
Hello,
I'm Amal, 33 years old. My husband Eyad is 39, and we have … Amal Alanqar needs your support for Hope and Safety for Amal and He
Your kindness and support mean everything to us. May God bless you for your compassion.
— 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 : ryūgūji ken x f!reader
summary: you patch ken up after he got into a fight and he thanks you for your kindness the right way
wordcount: 1.8k
content warnings: nsfw, smut, blood and bruises on his face, praise, idiots in love, reader gets carried around, size difference
“Idiot” you huff. Yet you sound anything but harsh as you cup Draken’s blood-covered cheeks, worry clear to your tone while you let your gaze travel over his face. “Do you like it that much when I patch you up?”
Ignoring the blood, he leans in and rests his forehead against yours, eyes fixed on your lips and only them. “I just love to have your hands all over me, baby.” Draken shamelessly admits as a victorious grin overtakes his features.
Feeling yourself grow shy beneath his stare, you mumble another “Idiot,” accompanied by a flick to his forehead once you bring space between your bodies to take the washcloth out of your bathroom sink and wring it.
Draken watches your figure. His dark eyes are fascinated by every curve of yours hidden only under an oversized shirt. Beautiful is the word he’d always choose to describe you.
“You should really know better by now….” The sting of the water to his wound rips him out of his daze, a little hiss escaping him as you clean his face—nestled gently in the palm of your free hand.
“I do, do know better. It was an accident.”
“Accident? You got into a fistfight with a guy by accident, hm?” Arching your brow, your face tells him you do anything but believe his words and a little sigh in defeat is all he can muster up over your disapproving looks.
Silence fills your bathroom while you uncover his pretty face beneath the dried patches of blood and bruises. Every once in a while you leave a tender kiss on his cheek or forehead as love and worry bring out your soft spot for the guy.
And Draken melts in your care, realising just how much he enjoys and desires your company in his life when you look after him like this. “Maybe I just want your attention.”
A laugh meets his quiet confession as you dab the disinfectant on a cotton ball, the spark in your eyes returning while your pretty smile softens your features. “Don’t be all flirty now, it won’t help you this time.”
“It won’t?” He challenges, now grinning himself and capturing your eyes with his. Upon straightening his posture his lips are close to yours, tips of your noses nearly touching and the cotton ball held to his cheek forgotten once his breath fans your lips.
You press your own into a thin line, refusing to give into his game. The little shake of your head is your only reply before you continue mending his wounds.
If it wasn’t for his fingertips dancing along your legs, long fingers holding the sides of your thighs and squeezing the flesh gently. “You’re playing hard to get with me tonight?”
“Ken,” you warn, fury hidden in your usually loving gaze. “You look like shit.”
“Hey now—”
“No, you listen to me.” Your hands find rest on his bare shoulders, gathering all your strength to push the man back down on his seat. “Your cheek is bust open, your temple too. What if you have a concussion and ignore it because…”
Dissatisfaction seeps through Draken’s body. Irritation showing with the tilt of his head and crease to his brows—yet at the same time it does nothing but make him look even more attractive to you. “I’m not—”
Interrupting him once more—you’re really pushing your luck, aren’t you?—you continue. “You should rest. You need rest. Work starts in a few hours, despite what you look like. So at least take care of your body, idiot.”
“Can you stop calling me an idiot?”
“No.”
Turning away, you gather your first aid supplies and put them back where they belong before balling your fists and looking at Draken in the mirror’s reflection.
He loosened his hair tie, ruffling the strands and letting them cast a shadow over his features. Your fingers yearn to run through them.
“Are you staying?”
Your eyes meet through the reflection, and he dares to purse his lips before nearly pouting. “You’ll let me?”
Your grin returns once more, and a relieved sigh tickles Draken’s ear when you shift to wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. “Of course I’ll let you stay…”
Gentle kisses on top of your shirt has you wish it was gone—body bared for Draken’s lips and eyes.
Yet here you are, pretending to be immune to his advances as you remind him: “To sleep, Draken. You look… tired.”
You can barely finish the sentence before he hoists you up and places your legs around his waist, his hands cupping your ass. Abandoning your bathroom for your bedroom, he carries you with ease. “You’re calling me weak, huh? Just because I got beat up—” your body meets the mattress and immediately he is on top of you; “doesn’t mean I am suddenly broken and weak. Remember that, princess.” He taps your forehead before pinching your nose, grinning over your little squeal before his lips find yours.
Languidly, they move against another. Lust being your biggest motivator that has your fingers explore another’s body. “Sleep,” you whimper against his mouth before his tongue slips past your lips. Wet muscles moving against another while his hand dips beneath your shirt, teasing your stomach with his fingernails, bringing the ticklish feeling along your waistline and rib cage before he plays with your nipple.
Draken’s lips part from yours to explore your jawline, neck and collarbone. “Do you really want me to stop?”
You should hold your resolve, should force him to sleep, and should say yes.
“No,” you admit. Body ruling over your mind as you breathe the word, while your fingers find their way through his tresses.
“That’s what i thought,” Draken whispers into your ear, hands long found their way around your thighs to push you close against his growing erection, hips grinding down on yours causing his soft groans to tickle the shell of your ear.
“‘s all your fault,” you bite back with too little fight in your system, pretending like you can’t feel how much you cover your panties in your own arousal as Draken moves against you.
“I’ll happily take the blame, baby.” You feel his grin long before the kiss on your cheek, multiple pecks following the first before his lips clash once more with your own.
He loves to make you feel breathless, to keep kissing you until he successfully absorbs your mind and soul, and leaves you deprived of air before pulling back. The rise and fall to your now exposed tits the prettiest reward for his actions as he gleefully watches them bounce before digging in. Lips littering your chest with hickeys and spit before teasing your nipples with his tongue.
The added stimulation to your clit makes it impossible to not chase your high, nimble fingers finding their way around the band of his pants to keep his hips close to yours.
“Ken, I wanna—”
“Soon, okay? Can you wait just a little? i just wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”
You whine into his neck as he now looms above you again, hiding yourself behind his comforting scent as he stills his movements and lets you undress him.
Greedy eyes watch him pump his cock before his pre-cum mixes with your slick as he drags the tip along your folds, unable to not tease your clit once more by circling the nub.
Your moans are sinful as soon as you feel his member finally push inside your needy cunt, stretching you ever so perfectly with every drag of his. “Just like that.” He murmurs, joy and strain added to his pretty voice as he moans for you and bottoms out. Hips stilling to have his pelvis rest against yours, fingers dancing along your thighs and hips as he dwarves you beneath his figure. “Good girl, taking me so fucking well.”
So well, in the way your walls flutter and tighten around his cock, your body writhes beneath his and your high-pitched moans to whimpers dampen his skin.
Your fingers run along his back; over his flexed shoulder muscles, his spine down to his hips, where you tug him forward the moment you feel ready. Mumbling a little “I’m okay,” delivered with sweet kisses along his neck before Draken’s eyes land on yours.
He moves slowly at first, pulling back only to enter you fully each time as his lips hover above yours to have your moans meet between your bodies. Dark eyes remain unable to leave your face, drinking in your blissed out expression as he fucks you.
And Draken knows he is supposed to say filthy things, nasty praise. He knows what your heart desires. But as he looks at you, he can’t help but turn soft. Loving, tender, caring, only tonight. Only tonight he hides his face in the curve of your neck, panting against your skin once his thrusts turn harsher. “I love you, angel,” he whispers and tries to cover up the sentiment behind the words, tries to not let you hear how much he means it—or prays you didn’t hear him at all.
Your arms are long wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair as his hand stimulates your clit. Tenderly rubbing the area in differing patterns before bringing you both to reach your climax.
“Just like that, so perfect for me.”
His words send you over the edge, shaking your head in denial over how strong your orgasm is. The relief coursing through your veins brings tingles up to your stomach and makes your limbs feel nearly numb as you moan Draken’s name. Head meeting your pillows, eyes shut tight while you pant, pussy milking him of everything he has.
Draken leans above you, eyes trained on your figure to burn your fucked-out form into his memory. Sweat highlights your curves, muscles and veins flexing beneath your skin and your eyes; those heavenly eyes look into his own by now—soft and filled with love.
“Fuck it,” Draken murmurs and leans down, gently resting your cheek in his hand and kissing your forehead before he repeats the words he was previously so ashamed of. “I love you.”
Yet he didn’t expect to hear your giggling, to see mischief in your eyes as he brings a bit of distance between your faces.
“I know,” you simply reply.
Confidence is what he finds in your gaze, you little vixen.
“You practically cried it into my skin a few moments ago… my tough boy.” Oh, that proud grin of yours should be illegal.
Draken’s face heats with embarrassment, brows knitted together as he pushes himself off you. “I’ll take it back.”
Yet your tug catches him off-guard. Body clashing with yours that has you both groan in displeasure, but you refuse to let go as your arms loop around his neck once more. “I love you too, Ken.”
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