#i will...reveal him...one day...hes fucking evil ok...

The middle of what was supposed to be a routine sweep was interrupted by what you had initially thought was the world’s worst leg cramp. You quickly realized what was *actually* happening, right before hitting the ground, hard. It felt like a someone was taking a pickaxe to your leg over and over again. Your nerves lit up, and the only somewhat soothing feeling at this point was the warm gushes of blood heating your upper thighs while you slowly bled. You raspily yelped, and Jack ran over faster than you’d ever see him run.

“Where? What happened?” his voice was so soft and gentle. You hadn’t really heard him speak much, nor had time to talk to him. He picked up shifts here and there but he wasn’t a permanent member of swat or anything, and on top of that he usually picked up day missions, while you had preferred the ones during the night. And you still did; because ironically the one time you pick up a day sweep you get shot.

You pointed to your leg, and his heart dropped. A bullet to the upper thigh; immediately he clocked the possibility of a thousand medical scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. He didn’t waste time cutting your clothes off, and working out a way to get a tourniquet to aid the concerning amount of blood coming out of you.

Jack felt insane. Normally he was able to get right along with medical procedures, especially emergencies considering that’s literally his job. But he was moving so slow. His brain felt jumbled. It only got worse when he started cutting your clothes off and revealing that cute little pair of panties you had on. Fuck. He’d probably have to cut those off too, which felt evil in this situation because of how badly he wanted to do it. It wasn’t even his fault, with you making all those cute little sounds and remarks.

“J-Jack ah- fuck it- it.. really.. hurts.” You whispered, biting back tears in the squeakiest, cutest little voice he’d ever heard. Every time he tightened the tourniquet you let out a cute little yelp. Could you even blame him?

He quickly pulled himself together, realizing how fucked up this behavior was and getting back to work. Checking for any other injuries before quickly shifting full attention back to the fact you were likely internally bleeding.

“Hey.. i gotta put some pressure on this. You’re gonna feel a lot of pain, but I have to do this. Ok?” His demeanor was calm, but his face told a different story. This is how you figured out it was bad. You tried to sit up a bit and look before feeling his hand on your chest guiding you back to the floor.

“Ah-Ah eyes on me. It’s not too bad, don’t worry. I gotcha, yea?” He whispered before finally applying that pressure he was talking about, causing you to immediately scream and grab his arms.

His arms. Oh wow. He was wearing long sleeves and had you wishing he wasn’t. One of his hands softly grabbed yours and took it off his arms.

“Doing so good.. shh. Gonna get u help, just lay down.” He cooed, gently putting your hand down and shushing you.

-Yes, Michael's current romantic partner is a lot younger than him. NO THAT DOES NOT MEAN, IMPLY, INFER OR SUGGEST *ANYTHING*. STOP FUCKING MAKING SHIT UP. Stay OUT of these people's private lives unless, like Kate has done here, they actively GIVE US INFORMATION. You can be uncomfortable with how Kate's experience could line up with the age of Michael's current partner, Anna (I mean, I sure am), but either keep it to yourself or be sure to qualify any posts about it with the clear fact that these are Your Personal Feelings. Do NOT start rumors, Do NOT imply or infer or "Just Saying....". Abuse is a serious topic and real people are harmed in situations like these, so DON'T MAKE UP SHIT ABOUT IT, OK?

-There is NEVER, *EVER* a person or group of people so vile that making things up about what they have done and/or continue to do "because I mean, they probably did that too, right?" isn't harmful. It specifically disrespects and delegitimizes the experiences of those harmed. This is true with Neil. This is true with the Files. And DESPITE THE VAST DIFFERENCE IN SCALE OF BADNESS BETWEEN EITHER OF THOSE CASES AND THIS ONE, it is still true here.

-Verbal and psychological abuse is bad. The things Michael Sheen did are bad. They are nowhere near the level of what Neil did. Two things can be bad and not be remotely comparable in scale, effect, timeline, severity etc. Pointing that out does not exonerate the lesser of the two evils or make it "not count". Refusing to acknowledge the difference in severity makes genuine, good-faith discussion of Michael's or Neil's actions, and respect for the women harmed by them, impossible.

-We really, REALLY all have to be super aware right now how much Neil's presence, and our collective trauma (yes it is trauma. no it is not even approaching that of Neil's actual victims. please see above point on levels of harm) from his actions are coloring our response right now. I am NOT SAYING that feeling upset, betrayed, angry, unsafe or unwilling to continue watching the show is overreacting or unwarranted, but I am pointing out that there is a lot of existing trauma and tension that is also at play here and we need to be aware of how it affects each of our individual reactions.

-To repeat and elaborate on that: Whatever emotions you are having are valid. However, we must be honest that our prior experience as a fandom with Neil is also influencing these emotions and how we are reacting. The fact that our feelings and actions are informed by past trauma does not make them invalid, but we do need to be aware of it.

-As with Neil, especially as word is still spreading around the fandom, don't attack other fans, avoid spreading rumors, keep anger focused on the abuser and not on Peers Reacting Wrong. Repeat, DO NOT ATTACK OTHER FANS.

-If you see someone defending Michael Sheen, either ignore them or say whatever you have to say kindly. Don't let your justified rage at abusive men get redirected onto peers making misguided, parasocial attempts to defend their favs and/or shield their own emotions. Their behavior is wrong, but it's not evil. It's sad. It's a symptom of our current culture, so don't treat it like the root cause.

-Unlike with Neil, there is absolutely no proof, or even any hint, that Michael is any continued threat to others, or that ignoring this issue would make him so. To revisit a prior point, these are OLD events and PAST harm, this does not EXCUSE them, it just makes them NOT CURRENTLY REQUIRING ACTION TO STOP, as they are NO LONGER HAPPENING AS PER CURRENT INFORMATION. Do not fall into the feeling that a lack of sufficient vigilance, engagement or attack behavior, from yourself or others, is somehow putting anyone at risk or allowing further harm to happen. Re: Kate, spreading her statement a bit and wishing her and her child well is enough. TO REPEAT: We Do Not Have Any Reason To Believe That This Harm Is Continued Or Present. A Lack Of Maximum Engagement Is Not, With Current Information, Believed To Place Anyone In Danger Or Continue Any Danger. Re: the idea that if Michael was abusive 30 years ago he must be the same way still, please see the earlier point re: making shit up.

-I would strongly advise, especially if this is really affecting you, occasionally going back and rereading Kate's words, Direct Primary Source, when you feel yourself getting overwhelmed (I posted some screenshots on this post for this purpose, may add more). Try to keep your reaction (your emotions, immediate response, what you plan to do going forward re: interaction with Michael's work) grounded in the actual words written By Kate And About Michael, not in what Neil did, not in what other fans are saying, not in your own personal inferences or assumptions.

-There's a lot else to panic over in the world right now that has much more severe, destructive, dangerous and currently-active consequences. IMHO as long as you aren't defending Michael Sheen or trying to minimize his actions, it is perfectly fine to have the reaction of "I understand the severity of this and the harm done, and I do not have the time or energy to deal with this let alone the Toxic Slutch of fandom discourse forming around it". Unless you are actively making a decision re: whether or not to engage monetarily with Michael Sheen and his work, you don't have to rub your face in this and force yourself to feel Maximum Discomfort.

-Yes, you can keep liking Aziraphale. Yes, you can keep creating fanart and fanfic, though if you consider publicity to be a form of support you may want to consider switching these to OCs- but again that is only re: verbal-form, published/posted, content. Thought crimes aren't a real thing, if you still enjoy thinking about these stories and characters there's literally nothing wrong with that. The only time this becomes problematic is re: watching GO3 when it drops in May, interacting with official/production accounts, and, if you want to take this to its most extreme, using the character names, series name and associated hashtag in publicly posted content. Anything else is limited only by your own comfort level.

-Re: some murmurs I've seen of Kate being unreliable or mentally unstable: I don't know anything about her and had not heard of her until today. I don't keep up with actors' personal or family lives. Given that this is a common minimizing reaction to allegations of abuse, I would take it with a large grain of salt. I personally am not giving the idea that Kate may be unstable enough to discredit these claims ANY credence for now, just adding it at the end as I'm seeing it passed around. Again, please don't scream at people who are spreading it. See above re: Symptom, Not Cause. TO REPEAT I CURRENTLY DO NOT BELIEVE THAT THESE CLAIMS HOLD ANY RELEVANCE OR PROVABILITY AT CURRENT.

EDIT: Previous coverage of unrelated, unstable behavior from Kate, as well as messages from people who follow her on other platforms, make me think that it is likely that Kate is highly mentally unstable. I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT THIS INVALIDATES HER CLAIMS. MENTAL INSTABILITY DOES NOT MAKE SOMEBODY INCAPABLE OF BEING A VICTIM OR DESERVING OF CONSTANT SCRUTINY, ESPECIALLY WHEN UNPACKING PAST EXPERIENCES OF ABUSE. Nothing that Kate is alleging at the current moment is of a severity that would require more thorough investigation. I believe that her level of instability makes it possible that some details are suspect or exaggerated, however I think that the fact that Michael was an incredibly toxic partner and person to her is indisputable. She is clearly processing remaining trauma from this relationship. I strongly urge everyone to !!!!!NOT!!!!! pry further into Kate's mental state or personal life, attempt to diagnose her or in any way calculate the degree to which her mental state affects her actions. If I see anyone doing this I will get their ass. LEAVE HER ALONE. SHE CAN BE MENTALLY ILL AND STILL BE SPEAKING TO TRAUMA SHE EXPERIENCED. IT IS NOT ON HER TO PROVE THE VALIDITY OF HER CLAIMS ANY MORE THAN IF SHE WERE NEUROTYPICAL/SANE. It is alright to discuss the effect of this truth on how we proceed, it is NOT ok to use it to justify invalidating her claim entirely, prying into her personal life, attempting to figure out "which parts" are true, or playing psychicatrist and/or detective. HARM WAS DONE, BY MICHAEL TO KATE, AND THAT IS NOT CURRENTLY OPEN TO DEBATE.

Please see link below and comments for additional context re: this edit.

EDIT 2: Kate is now claiming to have been unfairly sacked by higher-ups over speaking out for Gaza. This is a proven pattern and I have no reason to doubt this. HOWEVER, it is not relevant to this issue. Please do not use a real genocide as "ammunition" or to claim moral high ground on this issue. Once again, If You Do This I Will Call You On It And I No Longer Have The Patience With This Fandom To Not Drag People, Full-Username, On My Own Posts And Let What Finds You Find You. HAVE BASIC HUMAN RESPECT. This is a discussion of past personal abuse. Who does or does not support Genocide has NO PLACE IN IT. Palestinians are REAL HUMANS, not a moral test to judge if celebrities are GoodPeople(tm) or BadPeople(tm). Ok? Please be baseline decent here??? See link below.

-If there is any PROVEN, PRIMARY-SOURCE information that invalidates or contradicts anything on this post, please tell me, politely, and link the primary source or screenshots. I will update the post accordingly at my earliest ability, though I may be asleep or doing homework.

https://ew.com/kate-beckinsale-says-mark-ruffalo-ignored-her-agent-allegedly-fired-11942042

^Re: Gaza

^Re: General mental instability

You and Carl spend a lot of your spare afternoons lounging around in his room. Reading the same comics again, you’ve even acted them out on memory at some point. Throwing darts which evolved into different competitions every day. It would be boring, but nothing’s ever boring with the two of you, there’s always something.

Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of things within your control. You two were bound to find something new to do. What kind of teenagers fight the dead everyday but can’t entertain themselves? Boring ones.

So, when Michonne found a singular issue of Invincible, coincidentally laying around a house they raided on a scavenging trip? You were on Carl’s bed before he even knew Michonne was home. He had planned to read it himself first, to be able to hold the knowledge above you. He had rushed up the stairs as soon as he got home and barged open his door, nearly busting at the seams at the concept of a new comic laying on the foot of his bed like a cure for the virus.

Only to his surprise, to find you in the place of the supposed comic. After another second, he processed that said comic was in your hands and opened on the last few pages. He stood there, physically recoiled at the sight of you reading his comic before him.

You glanced up at him, your expression was blank, but he could feel the smug triumph radiating off you in heavy waves.

“Oh hey, Carl. Fancy seeing you here,” you try to fight back a grin as you nonchalantly address his entrance.

“Yeah, what a coincidence you find me in my own room,” he shoots back.

He steps forwards and snatches the comic from your hand, quickly examining it like it as if it were a child bit by a walker. He looks over every corner, every crease, hell even the spine of the flimsy paperback comic.

“Comic psychosis I tell you,” It’s muttered quietly, but purposefully loud enough for him to hear, before slumping back dramatically on the bed.

Carl’s head snaps up to look at you, “You read it without me.”

“Well duh, you were being so slow. I tried to wait but literally looked at Allen on the cover. It was too cool to resist.”

“I was going to read it first—” he starts to complain, revealing his deviously evil plan.

“Then don’t chastise me for something you would’ve done, dude.”

“That’s different and you know that damn well.”

“Oh, my days, shut up and read your comic, Grimes. I promise my germs didn’t change the ending.”

He mumbles out a string of insults, as he strides towards the bed where you lay. He sits down on the edge, opening the comic. You don’t have time to catch the gleam in his eye before he falls back, right on top of you. You let out a heave; the breath being pushed out of your lungs unexpectedly. Your hands fly up to try and push him off, but he only wiggles, making sure to dig his elbows into your ribs.

“Carl! Get off me! I’m suffocating! You fat ass!” You shriek at him, dramatically gasping for air and hitting at his arm.

“You know, it’s hard to read with all your talking, be quiet for me, will you?”

“Carl!”

A few minutes of you struggling through the torture of being smuggled by Carl’s weight, which if you were honest, wasn’t all that much, you quiet down. At first you attempt to read whatever page he’s one, but you can’t crane your neck far enough. He’s doing it on purpose; you just know it.

So, you turn to just looking at him. You look over the shape of his nose, how his hair falls over your stomach, how his expression twitches whenever something happens in the comic. But they land on his eye the most, occasionally flickering between his concentrating one, with the long lashes that flutter against his cheek whenever he blinks and the soft twinkle in his eyes that hasn’t quite faded yet, and the bandage over his other eye.

It feels heavy, even though you’ve never worn or touched it. It’s got a few dirty stains on it, and a spot of sweat from his hair. He’s changing it tonight, as per his strict schedule to cover it. You’ve always had an itch that you wanted to see it, but it was never a priority, so you never asked. Though, just sitting here and admiring him is like adding itching powder.

You decide you’re going to ask when he finishes the comic. Just a quick question, that he could brush off if he didn’t want to answer. A quick altercation that they could both move on either way. Simple and minimal embarrassment.

As soon as he closes the comic, you strike.

“Can I see your eye?” You say it with a tone, teetering on flat and dismissive.

“You can see it.” Carl shrugs but you can feel his shoulders tense against your stomach.

“The other one, genius.”

He’s silent for a moment before he sits up and looks at you with a serious expression. You almost laugh at his change of attitude, but you manage to hold it in, waiting for his response with anticipation. You raise your brows, encouraging him to speak. He waits for a second, for tension or dramatic effect, maybe just to piss you off. He looks down at you, and then he launches off into his speech.

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I’m a monster underneath, I know you say you don’t care what I look like, but you will. You’ll judge me, and I don’t want to scare you away.”

Your eyes widen at his words, they sound practiced, like he prepared for you to ask. You think about stopping him, but you.

“I just love you too much to lose you, and if my eye scares you away, I’d never forgive myself. Trust me, you don’t want to see it. It’s for the better of both of us,” he keeps rambling.

He just doesn’t stop. You nod along for a few seconds, before glancing around and nodding again. He starts using big words that you didn’t even know he had in his vocabulary, and you doubt he even knows what they mean. He’s honestly embarrassing himself with how many times you’ve said ‘okay’ or nodded.

“Okay, Carl, stop, it’s okay.”

He stops abruptly in the middle of saying something about you’re not the problem, he is.

“What?”

“I don’t care,”

Carl frowns, his nose scrunches up in a cute way, you’ve compared him to a rabbit on more occasions than one. He’s got genuine confusion written all over his face.

“Then why’d you ask?”

“’Cause I felt like it? I don’t care if you show me or not. Just shut up, please. Shakespeare died hundreds of years ago, he didn’t reincarnate into you.”

His expression shifts again, faux offense this time. Before you could make a comment on it, he flops back down onto you, and you feel like a mouse trapped under a rock. You resort back to your earlier state of hitting and hissing at him.

“To show, or not to show, that is thy question!” He says it, forcing his voice to increase several pitches, flailing one hand around as the other moves to cover his face.

“That’s not even how it goes, Mister Damsel!”

Taglist: ▷ @kookiekult @smutinlove @far-cry-from-finality ▷ @zomb-1-egutzz @shadowybasementmiracle @vaniniweenie ▷ @coveofthesiren @carlmipololo @lunarnightt ▷ @thecrazyalchemist @s0uls0ng @bluesheep23 ▷ @alice-oh @emotiandon

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.