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60 - Bruises And Secrets
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2025-06-05 08:15:23Mia had been home less than three hours when she noticed something was wrong.
Smelt something was wrong.Sebastian hadn't limped, exactly—but he moved slower than usual, sat with careful stiffness, and flinched once when she gave him a full-body hug.The moment she pressed against him, his scent hit her differently. Still lavender, but tinged with something raw and bruised underneath—like crushed violets and singed sugar. A hurt Omega scent. Her stomach turned.She didn’t say anything right away. She watched instead. Took note of how he avoided sitting directly, how he winced when the twins tackled his legs. How his smile was tight.How he subtly angled himself away when Ezra passed behind him in the kitchen. That was the biggest giveaway.Ezra smelled like warm sandalwood and spice, but even that comforting signature had a jagged edge tonight—like smoke curling around an open flame.So when the twins finally passed out
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(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 63 - Shattered Trust
Days passed, and the parents of the house were healing. Ezra’s rut was over, but now he had a new fear—one he couldn’t name. Just something about Sebastian put him on his toes. Everything had gone back to normal. Well, almost. The bathroom felt colder than usual, the sterile walls unable to contain the quiet pulse of citrus-tinged anxiety emanating from Mia. Her pheromones were sharp, sour with fear, cutting through the air like a warning. She stared at the small, white pregnancy test in her trembling hands. Her Omega glands hadn’t even fully developed yet, but Ezra’s rut had made everyone scent-sensitive, and now everything felt amplified. She had locked the door behind her. The soft sound of the old lock clicked into place, echoing louder than it should have. Even her own breath felt loud. The faint chemical tang of the test mixed uncomfortably with her scent.
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 62 - Consequences
The basement smelled of mildew, old wood, and regret. Ezra’s boots scraped the concrete as he worked in silence, dragging a bucket and brush. His back ached. His hands were raw. But he didn’t stop.He’d hurt his Omega.Now he was going to atone.He scrubbed until the floor glistened, reinforced the beams, cleared the shelves. By evening, he was driving into town, sweat clinging to his neck as he marched into the hardware store.The cashier blinked at his order—chains, cuffs, padded restraints, ceiling anchor. “Big dog?”Ezra didn’t answer.At home, Sebastian stood at the top of the stairs, sweater slipping off one shoulder, damp curls clinging to his temple. He looked like he’d stepped out of the shower—and into a storm.Ezra dropped to his knees. “I cleaned it. It’s ready.”Sebastian descended slowly, lavender curling around him like smoke. “Show me.”Ezra led him down.The
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 60 - Bruises And Secrets
Mia had been home less than three hours when she noticed something was wrong.Smelt something was wrong.Sebastian hadn't limped, exactly—but he moved slower than usual, sat with careful stiffness, and flinched once when she gave him a full-body hug.The moment she pressed against him, his scent hit her differently. Still lavender, but tinged with something raw and bruised underneath—like crushed violets and singed sugar. A hurt Omega scent. Her stomach turned.She didn’t say anything right away. She watched instead. Took note of how he avoided sitting directly, how he winced when the twins tackled his legs. How his smile was tight. How he subtly angled himself away when Ezra passed behind him in the kitchen. That was the biggest giveaway.Ezra smelled like warm sandalwood and spice, but even that comforting signature had a jagged edge tonight—like smoke curling around an open flame.So when the twins finally passed out
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 61 - His Secret, My Silence
Ezra stood at the doorway, scent muted, breath held.Sebastian and Mia were curled up in bed, lavender and citrus wrapped around each other like a lullaby. Their legs tangled beneath the covers, their voices hushed, hidden beneath the soft glow of the nightlight.Ezra couldn't make out what they were saying—but Mia’s expression was peaceful, and Sebastian…Sebastian smelled like home. Lavender and warmth, soft musk and quiet strength. That comforting Omega scent that once wrapped around Ezra in the dark now stayed far from his reach.Ezra’s chest constricted. The air in the hallway was thick with everything he couldn’t say.He didn’t interrupt. He backed away, tail tucked metaphorically between his legs.Downstairs, the twins snored from their living room fort, a haze of young Alpha scent mixed with cookie crumbs and crushed pillows. Ezra tiptoed past, ignoring the flicker of sandalwood that clung to them.He l
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 59 - Soft Things Break
He woke with a tremble in his spine. Not from cold. From memory. From the scent of Ezra—sandalwood and spice—thick in the sheets and soaked into the skin at the back of Sebastian’s neck. From the ache between his thighs, the dull burn of overuse, and the slow throb of being too open, too full for too long. His wrists still tingled when he flexed his fingers, like they hadn’t forgiven him yet. Ezra’s arm remained draped across his waist. Loose. Possessive. There was slick still smeared on the insides of his thighs, a heat that clung, marking him in more ways than one. The sticky evidence of claim, even hours later. Ezra hadn’t pulled out. Not once. Not at the end. Not when he’d fallen asleep buried deep, one hand wrapped around Sebastian’s hip like a lock. Sebastian didn’t make a sound. He just breathed—shallow, careful. The room reeked of what they’d do
(Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children 58 - Fever Dream
TW: CNC (ALPHA BEING DUMB AND OMEGA BEING DUMBER FOR LETTING IT HAPPEN) The bedroom was silent but for the ticking of the old clock, steady as a heartbeat—until Sebastian whispered: “I’d go out with him.” Ezra froze. His head bowed, a muscle in his jaw twitching as if already containing something he couldn’t name. Sebastian swallowed, watching him. “Even if you’re jealous. Even if it eats you up.” Ezra didn’t hear anything after that. Not really. Something in him snapped. The only thing tethering him to restraint—gone. He was on Sebastian in a second. No warning. No words. Sebastian’s back hit the bed so hard it rattled the frame. Ezra shoved his thighs apart, bent him in half, already deep, already swelling, the thick base of his cock nudging insistently a
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