#also with a brand new sleep schedule. ok he is going to be A Bit Grumpy About It (better or worse depending how you RP him lol)

[wreckedhoney]

a while ago on the discord i brought up the "which desk at the station is forrest's desk" question when the answer should probably have been obvious. he's been at the job for approx. one week, so it's the desk with all the unpacked boxes. it just didnt occur to me because thats Frankly A Lot Of Boxes and my first thought was this is where all the storage and junk are piled on, but no. it's all stuff forrest brought (/hc). he's a heavy packer. he spite packed all the stuff he didn't want his old job to keep even if he doesnt need or even like them all that much but now that he's blacklisted then no one in the entirety of chicago can have them

[dumbmusclehypnojockboy]

A story for @octuscle Merry Christmas. I'm sorry it's a bit rushed, and kinda slapdash, but you know what happened. I hope you like it!

Going Back to College

Jerry was forty years old.  He was celebrating his birthday alone, again.  Somehow, after graduating college, Jerry set out to change the world, but all that really changed was Jerry waist, which continued to grow wider and wider.  Jerry hated his life.  He was a doctor, but with the cost of insurance, and having his own office, Jerry couldn’t get anywhere in life.   And no matter how hard he tried, Jerry felt like he was just treading water.  Jerry picked up the paper and glanced at it, and then read the headline story again and again. He threw down the newspaper in disgust.  On the front page was a well-muscled man, doing a double biceps pose, in front of his tenth gym franchise.   The man, Rick Jenkins, was a huge success, becoming a millionaire at thirty, and now at forty had his gym franchise, a supplement empire and his own fashion brand.  He was also now a billionaire.  Jerry was disgusted.  In freshman year of college, Rick had been his roommate.  Rick was your typical dumb as rocks jock, or so Jerry had thought.  They had nothing in common with each other.  But, looking back at his life, he realized that he had been condescending and rude to Rick, while Rick had always tried to get along with Jerry.  In fact, there was this time when Rick had offered to take Jerry to the gym for what Rick had claimed was what he designed to be a non-intimidating workout that anyone could do and get good results.  Why couldn’t I have made an effort back then?  Or have at least been a little nicer to him?  Then, Jerry had an idea.  He grabbed one of the birthday cupcakes he had baked for himself, put a candle on it, and lit it.  He sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to himself, and closed his eyes, to envision the wish he wanted.  Jerry took a deep breath and made his wish, “I wish I had gone on those workouts with Rick, and been nicer to him.”  And then, blew out the candle. 

And then, it happened.   In a rush of glittery blue wormhole, Jerry found himself back in his college dorm.  It was move-in day, and Jerry had already found himself frustrated with his new roommate.  “Sorry for the mess, roomie, but the football team has this hazing ritual and has really been keeping us busy.  I’ll clean it up as soon as I can.” Rick had said.  “I remember I got really snippy with him.  Maybe I can be nicer person,” Jerry thought to himself.  “It’s not a problem, Rick, just clean up when you get to it, ok?”  “For sure.  Thanks for not making a big deal out of it.”  And their relationship had gotten off on a much better foot than it did last time.  Fast forward to October, and Jerry and Rich were pretty unrepeatable.  They went to whatever classes they had in common together, which surprising to Jerry were quite a lot. 

They were both taking biology together, and Rick was even taking Calculus I.  They were both in the freshman English class, and were even in the same Western Civ and Spanish I classes.    The only thing that was different was Jerry was also taking a pre-medicine class and an extra science lab class, while Rich had a bodybuilding class in addition to being on the football team.  They would often get lunch and dinner together.   One day, when Jerry told Rich about how stressful it was to take a full eighteen-hour schedule, Rich offered to take Jerry to the gym for a non-intimidating workout.  Jerry was about to explode at Rich, but remembered that he was being nice to his roommate, and told Rich that he wanted to try the gym but was always too busy or too scared.   Rich explained that he had been developing this non-intimidating work out plans for a few years now, and offered Jerry the chance to workout with him. 

“Jerry, three, two, one, sleep.   You are under my control,  you are excited to workout with me, even though you may think you’re apprehensive, you’re excited.  Any work out plan I give you may seem difficult, but will be totally not intimidating.  Your find yourself wanting more and more to come work out with me.   Now I want you to go deeper and deeper, repeating my words until you go into a deep sleep, repeating my words in your sleep, and wake up when your alarm wakes you.“

So, with apprehension, Jerry found himself going to the gym with Rick.  Rick’s personality put Jerry at total ease.  And Rick’s work out plan was totally not intimidating.  Jerry found it easy to go from exercise to exercise, and whenever Jerry had a problem, he found Rick right there to help with his workout.  By November, Jerry felt his stress had totally disappeared thanks to Rick’s workouts.  And he knew he started seeing results from the gym.  Noting earth-shattering, but his shoulders and lats were becoming more prominent, while his belly was shrinking.  And his arms and legs were becoming more defined and he could even see hints of pecs and biceps popping up a little.   Rick noticed too and would always compliment Jerry on his “gainz”.   Whenever Rick would say “gainz” around Jerry, Jerry would always have this unusual feeling come over him, and his brain would kind of blink out for a second or two.  And he would always wake up to Rick telling him that he was doing such a great job and that he should keep up his workouts, bro!

It was December, and Jerry was at the gym.  He was alone in the locker room, and flexed in a mirror.  He was amazed how much he had changed.  He couldn’t believe it but he had biceps.  Actual biceps, and abs.  He had a full-on rock wall of six solid abs!  “Hey, Jer-bro!  I knew you could do it!  That high-protein, low carb diet really did wonders for you!”  Rick said.  “And check out all those gainz!” 

And again, that weird whirly feeling went through my brain.  This time though, Jerry could hear Rick saying something to him.  “Hey Jer-bro, you like it when I call you that.  I need you to shift your concentration a bit.  I need you to get into sports medicine.  You can to that for be Jer-bro, I mean after I’ve heled you so much get rid of your stress, and helping your gainz in the gym.  You’re just a little hazy on working as a surgeon or an oncologist, but your brain seems totally focused on going into sports medicine and we can be partners.   That’s gonna be so fucking cool.  So, keep up your work outs bro!  You’re doing so fucking awesome!”

Jer woke up a little foggy.  He’d just had an awesome workout, and Rick had come up to him to encourage him a always.   And did he say something after that?  Nah, he’d just be as encouraging as always.  He’d be going home for the holidays.   He wasn’t looking forward to talking about shifting his concentration.  Surgeons and oncologists made lots of money, but he was really interested in sports medicine.  It was becoming his passion. 

It was now sophomore year.  Rick and Jer-bro had decided to stay roommates.  Jer was especially happy to room with Rick.  It seemed Rick help keep his stress levels away.  Why didn’t he want to hang with Rick before?  Rick was his bro!   Rick was such an awesome bro!  He could always look up to Rick.  Jerry was in his second year, and he was still eager to graduate with a degree in sports medicine.   So, his schedule was not as full as last year, but still very full.   He took sophomore English, and Western Civ 2.  He also took Spanish 2, and Calc 2, and for his sports medicine focus he took Anatomy 1 and Sports Med 1.  Surprisingly, Rick was in 4 of his six classes.  The only difference was instead of sports med, Rick was taking a business class and a psychology class.  

The year progressed really well with Jer-bro making awesome gainz in the gym, but grades falling to the B-C level.  And Rick was doing awesome.  He was now the starting quarterback on the school team, and the whole team was very dedicated to playing football and winning a state championship.   The coach even allowed Rick to lead in some kind of motivational meditation before each and every practice and game.   This seemed to make the team even more thirsty to win the school’s first championship ever.  

At the end of sophomore year, the football team won it’s first division championship.  Jer-bro even took time off from his classes to paint his face and cheer on Rick during the championship game.  He had listened to Rick who told him that football was something that he was becoming really passionate about.  And after a while, Jer-bro couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t passionate about college football.  By the end of the season, Jer-bro could tell you any stats about the college’s last 20 years.  And he was even becoming a Las Vegas Raiders fan, which was Jerry’s team too. 

During Junior year, Jer-bro and Rick were totally unrepeatable.  The only time they were apart was when Jer-bro went to his medically focused classes and Rick when to his Business and Psychology classes.  One night, Jer-bro heard some sounds coming from the headphones  on his ears.  “Rick is right.   Listen to Rick.  Rick gives you gainz.  Rick is your bro.  Listen to Rick.”  Jer-bro realized this was stuff he already knew, so he closed his eyes and went back into a deep sleep. 

During this year, Jer-bro noticed some nerdy guys hanging around Rick, and he grew a little concerned.   So, he asked Rick about it.  “Rick, why are you hanging out with all the nerds?” he asked.  Rick responded, “Remember the unintimidating workouts you started with?  I’m refining them for a general audience and I’m making great progress.”  “Cool,” was Jer-bro’s only reply. 

Later on in the year, Jer-bro once again heard the whispering in his ears.  It was now second nature for him to absorb the information but ignoring it.  He heard Rick telling him, “For your senior project, you will create the perfect protein powder, muscle growth supplement, with one undisclosed side effect, it makes people dumber.  I know you can do this for me, Jer-bro.  For us.  You will do this for your senior project.  You will continue your workout and continue to get awesome gains.  All for Rick.  All because of Rick.”

Senior year,  was awesome.  Jer-bro kept working on his senior project with a singular focus.  He continued to workout at the gym and by the time graduation came around, Jer-bro looked like an amateur bodybuilder.   He would zone out at times, so people thought he was kind of a dumb ass, but underneath all the muscle was a huge intellect, focused on sports medicine.  He had finished the protein powder that Rick told him to make and now, they would begin a business together.  Speaking of Rick, he had gotten investments from some of his former teammates who he had persuaded to go into finance and investment.  His team had continued to do so well this year, the had gone to the Rose Bowl and won!  Rick had even picked up the Heisman trophy.  At graduation, Rick was ready to start his supplement company with Jer-bro  and had all the financial backing he needed. 

Jer is now 25.  He’s more rich than he was when he was 40.  He’s also quite a bit dumber.  After trying some of the muscle growth protein powder, Jer couldn’t help but become addicted to it.  He grew his muscles until he was little more than a musclehead.  Only into working out and having sex.  He still knew how to calculate his micro nutrients and count his reps out.  But that was all his life consisted of these days.  And he was very happy. 

As for Rick?  He became a millionaire at 24.  By the age of 30, Rick owned his franchise of gyms all over the world, and with his muscle growth protein powder, range of “motivational hypnosis patreons” and fashion brand, he was now a billionaire.  Jerry had been the perfect test subject for his hypnosis during the first month of rooming together, and that had given him all the confidence to try his methods first on his coach, then going on to the rest of his teammates.  And that had made all the difference. 

[doingthedirtydishes]

Trading in the rocky shoreline of Maine for the granite faces of New Hampshire; Live Free or Die!: My adventure to the White Mountains and Lakes Region.

As it was appearing my stay in Maine would be extended into autumn, due to the ever-continued international Covid-19 health and economic crisis, remaining here for yet another season, and possibly winter too, it was time to venture out-and-about further into the region to see what New England had to offer. Fall in New England, as the expression goes, is spectacular – an explosive vivid symphony of lucid supernatural wonder and beauty on display, nature’s finest fireworks.

A few months prior, while on the patio at my hotel, I met a nice Polish lady from upstate New York, Zuza. She is an interior designer for Hilton corporate brand. She also is an artist who creates the most stunning mosaics. At first, she thought I was a bit strange; not uncommon for people to think such at first. But after some time she and I became able friends. A few weeks later she rang me on my mobile to ask me if I would join her on a trip to New Hampshire.

It only took but a few seconds to figure a decision. “A trip to the Live Free or Die state, I am an emphatic yes,” I told her, as a massive smile grew on my face – my eyes swiftly welling with excitement. The time to get out of dodge had arrived, and with my new friend from New York, we were planning our White Mountains adventure.  She told me, “Steven, it will be a fun quest. We are both in need of some stress relief.” “Oh,” she said, as she was hanging up the call, “I hope you don’t mind my pup joining us.” “No, I love dogs – the more the merrier,” I stated.

Perhaps I should have taken some pause before responding in agreement. As it turns out, her “pup” is more like a small Siberian bear than a dog. Rowan is his name – a 140lb Leonberger show dog, a one-year-old puppy. She tells me, “He is well behaved and loves road trips. He is a rock-star everywhere I take him. You will see.” “Sure Zuza, it sounds as if soon Rowan and I will become good friends.” It was with frightful anticipation I expected meeting the “pup.”

As a few weeks remained before our trip, it was time to plan our mountain exploration. We planned to visit two regions of New Hampshire: Lakes Region in central and White Mountains in the north. As we would also be visiting an old classmate from my school days at BGU in Israel, Matthew, presently the owner of an outdoor style clothing company founded in NH, Lake Life Brand, for a photo shoot in the Lakes Region, our time and schedule were quickly filling up. As stated in my book, Unbreakable Mind: Life is meant to be lived, so go live it – Teeth to the wind!

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.”

— Mark Twain

Itinerary set, Zuza was to arrive on the following Wednesday, at my hotel in Portland, Maine, to commence our trip with Rowan. About noon, with clear blue azure skies, wispy clouds abound, a black extended Jeep wrangler pulled up in front of the hotel. Hanging out of the window was this over-sized hirsute ball of irascible beauty and beastly allure. He might be the size of a small bear but he has the heart of one too – it was obvious, “Ro” is a big love-bug-bear. Kisses all-round.

In a matter of minutes, bags packed into the back of the Jeep, wheelchair neatly stored away, and Rowan’s spot (substantial, I might add) clearly demarcated – we were finally off on our road trip. “Where shall we go, Steven?” Zuza, like me, loves getting into the car and just driving, driving with no destination in mind. “Ok, sounds fine to me. But please first tell me where we are sleeping tonight so I can plan our day.” Zuza reserved the same Hilton hotel Vernon, my hotel manager, recommended we stay, a sister Giri property where we would be well taken care of.

“Not all those who wander are lost.” 

— J.R.R. Tolkien

It was a bit out of the way but we decided to cross over into New Hampshire from Maine further north and immediately drive the famous Kancamagus Scenic Byway. But first we decided to stop off for lunch at the 302 West Smokehouse & Tavern in Fryeburg, with wondrous scenic views of nearby rolling farm pastures and vistas of the White Mountains far off in the background. After two hours in the sun, a few local delish IPAs consumed, it was time to venture to the mountains.

Once we passed over the line into the state of NH, it was only a short fifteen minute drive to the entrance of “The Kanc” – a 55 km scenic drive, climbing almost 1000 meters in elevation, along New Hampshire’s Rout 112, a carved path that winds itself through the White Mountain National Forest, with endless hairpin turns alongside the Swift River, with breathtaking views of the Sabbaday Falls, Lower Falls and Rocky Gorge. NH fall foliage was absolutely brilliant.

At one point on the drive we could see that the top twenty percent of Mount Washington was snow-covered. The cold arctic winds that blow in from Canada were already making their presence felt, if only atop high peaks. But it was still fall, with all its innocent aesthetic beauty at play in God’s cathedral. At the end of the drive we came into a small town with only two choices to eat. We chose to eat Mexican. Afterward, we both agreed to never again eat tacos in NH.

Late into the evening we had a long cold drive to our hotel in the Lakes Region of NH, two hours further south than us. With fall foliage in New England in full bloom, and Covid-19 travel and social distancing measures in place, there were more than the usual amounts of day or weekend trippers in that area. The next morning we were going to meet Matthew and Stacy for a photo shoot for his clothing company at a few local lakes: Silver, Winnisquam and Winnipesaukee.

The morning of my debut as a sexy wheelchair model was one of overcast skies with rain in the forecast – great muted colors for a successful photo shoot, and start to my GQ career. Stacy was a consummate professional; Matt a consummate goofball. It was splendid fun for all involved. Zuza and Rowan even got swept up into the fall photography shoot extravaganza, posing by the lake. Photos of NH and other travels can be seen on my website, Doing The Dirty Dishes.

With the photo shoot behind us, my fifteen minutes of fame fading fast, no longer puparazzi in tow, it was time to explore the Lakes Region. For the next three hours we drove aimlessly and endlessly down any roadway, paved or dirt, that we could enter with a 4×4 Jeep. We ended up in a small, quaint charming town, Meredith. We decided to stop for lunch at Twin Barns Brewing Company. There we would meet three retired professionals from Baston, MA. Never was more fun and laughter had on a brisk Saturday evening in fall than with Sheehan, McGuirk and GG. 

Craig AKA GG is a retired dentist with a penchant for being a considerate guy. He and his close friends all bought mountain homes in nearby Meredith – which has more of a village ambiance than small city. It is the entrance town for tourists wishing to enter the Lakes Region of NH. The town has an intimate and restful feel to it, the perfect place some R&R, especially during a pandemic. On our way of town we stopped at Kellerhaus for some German chocolate decadence.  

“Travel makes one modest, you see what a tiny place you occupy in the world. “

— Gustave Flaubert

After three days of epic excitement in the lakes and mountains regions it was time to migrate more toward the ocean, where New Hampshire owns an immense sliver of beachfront real estate. The Atlantic Ocean coastline of NH is a whopping 28.9 km, the shortest of any state. We were not so interested in the over-stimulating rocky seacoast beaches as much as the port city on the Piscataqua River, Portsmouth. It is a historic seaport and popular summer tourist destination.

Portsmouth, with it noted 17th and 18th–century colorfully painted homes, delicious local seafood restaurants, astounding art and architecture, winding town roads and ways replete with a plethora of parks and outdoor recreation areas, is a romantic town surely worthy of a weekend trip. Since “Chowda” is a staple of New England, each state having their own version (clam, seafood or fish), it was time to sample some local fare. Sanders Fish Market has the best chowder soup and lobster roll in NH. Though the lobster roll was incredibly delicious, Maine still wins the award.    

When Zuza said that Rowan was a rock-star, she was not kidding. Literally everywhere we went with him people stopped to ask about, pet and photograph him. If we were in the car, even at a red light, it made no difference – the “Ro-Bear” was a dog in high demand –people everywhere flocked to him like a reincarnated neon Elvis in Memphis. After my first and only model photo shoot and ethereal fifteen minutes of fame, I was more than willing to give up my throne to my new Ursidae Canis lupis familiaris friend. Thank you Zuza and Rowan for a memorable trip! 

Photo credit: Stacy Cusack Photography

Travel Blog: Click here.

Spiritual Blog: Click here.

Book: Unbreakable Mind. (Print, Kindle, Audio)

Doing The Dirty Dishes Podcast: Watch or listen to episodes and subscribe: Spotify, Apple Podcast, Buzzsprout.  Also available on Google Podcast, iHeart, Tunein, Amazon Alexa and Stitcher. 

Doing The Dirty Dishes YouTube channel – watch and subscribe.

Social Media links: Twitter, Instagram and Linkedin.

Travel Blog links: Covid-19 stranded in NYC JFK and Maine – also travel stories on Ireland, Spain, Sweden,  Belgium, Iceland, Colombia (Espanol version), Amsterdam, Germany, New Hampshire, TN and NYC.

Personal Website link where you can also find my book, photos of my travels and updates on current projects.  

Thank you for your love and support.

[secretsandwriting]

So I’m testing some new things out with this so you guys will have to tell me what you think!

I’ve also come to the conclusion that while Timothee isn’t my favorte celebrity I like writing for him.

Also, I have no idea how movie premieres work so this is really just a guess and could be completely wrong.

Word Count - 1609

Beta Read - by google docs

Navigating through the crowded streets of New York was getting to be something you were good at. Moving there had definitely been a culture shock but after getting used to it, it was pretty nice. But now, you needed to get coffee and work on your French for one of your classes.

Ordering and setting yourself up, you started the assigned video and prayed it would make sense and you wouldn’t have to add another hour or two of study to your already full schedule. But as fate would have it, it sounded like gibberish.

Restarting the video to try again, you were pulled out of your studies by a burning sensation going down your arm. Pulling out your headphones you looked down at your arm to brown soaking into the sleeve.

“I’m so sorry!” The guy in front of you looked familiar but due to his mask it took a moment for it to sink in. Timothee Chalamet. He was an actor, but that wasn’t important. What was important? He knew french.

“That’s not important. Do you have any free time right now? I know you know french and I need to learn it and this makes no sense and it’s due in two hours.” You definitely caught him off guard, but he checked his phone.

“I have an hour.” He pulled a chair over and you handed him one of your earbuds. For the next hour he helped you, he was a lot better than the video your teacher had given you.

“Here,” he handed you a slip of paper. “If you need more help just text me and I’ll help when I can.”

“Thank you! With your help, I’ll at least pass.” He laughed and you said your goodbyes before he went on his way and you worked on finishing the rest of your homework.

While you worked, you didn’t notice the girls in the corner watching you with their phones out and slightly pointed at you.

The next day, you almost regretted asking Timothee for help when you woke up to your phone being blown up by friends and social media. There were multiple pictures of you and Timothee as well as multiple dating theories. One of the notifications stood out, Timothee had messaged you on Instagram.

You didn’t really talk until your next assignment came and you texted him about it. Together you decided to meet at one of the libraries. This time you knew that you would be spending time with a celebrity and people would notice so you made sure you at least looked alive. That way if there were pictures posted online at least you wouldn’t look like too much of a mess. Apparently Timothee noticed.

“You look nice.”

“Well, the chances of pictures being taken are pretty big so I at least want to look alive and not like I just rolled out of bed.” He snorted and you chatted for a few minutes before getting to work.

This time it was a bigger assignment so it took a few hours instead of one. But it didn’t seem to be so long, it felt like time had flown by and it was finished immediately. Timothee was interesting, you two could have fun but when needed it could be serious.

So when you split ways and Timothee started texting you an hour later, you didn’t feel like he was trying anything. It just felt like you were talking to a friend you had known for years. Then, you had plans to hang out two days later when he was free. The plan was to got to a park and play with kids and act like a kid, simply to feel like you didn’t have so much on your plate and could just have fun for an afternoon.

The interview he asked you about, was before you were meeting to go to a park and act like you were children, not adults who had jobs and college. But that was the plan, and exactly what you did.

The two of you ended up chasing each other until all the other kids at the park wanted to play with the two of you. The parents watched the two of you close when you played with them but that was to be expected.

Timothee was good with kids. Not just good, amazing. All the little girls were absolutely in love with him while all the boys were amazed by how strong he was.

However, as most people know. Kids have no filter, therefore they ask any question that comes to their brain. Hence the 30 different times you had to tell them that you weren’t dating and you were just friends having fun. Some of the parents seemed to think so too, one of them basically told you.

“Thank you for playing with Maggie, she had a blast and she’ll probably sleep well tonight.” The lady looked relieved at the thought. “You and your boyfriend would be good with kids if you decide to have them.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. We just met a month ago and we just came here to have some fun.” She nodded but you could tell she didn’t believe you. Trying to ignore what she said you turned and went back to playing with the kids.

It was after two hours of playing different games, the two of you decided that you were out of energy. Timothee offered getting a meal and you agreed. And that’s how you ended up in a Mcdonalds.

For the next few months, you would meet up for assignments or just to hang out. The press had a hayday with it but after a while it was easy to ignore and then it became more fun to do funny poses every once in a while.

Then he had to go work on a movie so your contact was left to text, phone calls, and facetime. It worked but it wasn’t as good as meeting in person. He still helped with your french until the semester was over part way through his movie.

“Timmy!!! I passed!!!” You held up your phone to the camera on your computer so he could see through his screen. It was amazing and you owed it all to him. Last semester you had barely passed and that had been with 4 times the amount of studying then you had done today. Timothee was godsent.

“Yes! You did it!” You celebrated for a little bit before he got serious. “Y/n, since you passed I know what we can do to celebrate. When this is over, you should come as my plus one to the movie premiere.”

“The movie premiere?!” He nodded, you could see how nervous he was in his eyes. “I have one question.” He nodded, waiting for you to ask. “What am I supposed to wear.” He snorted.

“I’ll talk with my manager and see what he says.” So that was the plan. You kept talking with him, but now it was less about school and more for the fun of it.

When the movie premiere came close Timothee got an answer to your question. Though he almost seemed hesitant to tell you.

“You just have to go get measured and go to a few fittings. The brand making my suit is making you a matching dress.” You would be matching with Timothee sure, you were going as his plus one, or date depending on who you ask. But brand? This dress sounded like it was going to cost more than your college tuition.

“Ok, when and where do I need to go?” He gave you his manager’s private number so you talk straight with him and get all the details. Little did you know, that that was the beginning of the storm.

Somehow it got out that you were going with Timothee and even getting matching outfits. Soon, your phone was being blown up by people trying to get details and even shows asking you to come on and talk about it. Timothee’s manager called you and offered to be your manager until this all calmed down, mostly because this affected Timothee but the offer was still appreciated and accepted.

He texted you a link and told you to post it in all of your public social media bios titled ‘Manager’s contact’. While it wasn’t something most celebrities did, you had just been dragged into this. It would start as a base line until things were figured out.

Through this mess, Timothee kept apologizing even when you said it was ok and it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. You thought the manager would be enough but then you ended up sharing Timothee’s booking agent too. Apparently everyone wanted to talk with you.

A few days after agreeing, you learned that the episode would be realised a week before the premiere, but hopefully it would go well. You were also told that Timothee would be doing the interview with you which made you feel a lot better.

Timothee came back the day before you had to fly to California so you were going to let him take the day to rest because frankly it was a lot, but he showed up at your door with his suitcase. He hadn’t even gone home.

“Timmy! What are you doing he-” He cut you off.

“Can I kiss you?” What? That wasn’t what you expected. While you stood there staring at him completely confused, he started shifting around a little bit and playing with his hands.

“Yeah.” That’s all it took for him to get his confidence back.

Request:

Hey, I really love your writing.

Can I request something with Thimothée Chalamet? Maybe like they meet at a coffee shop and he accidentally spills his coffee on her and then they become friends and they progressively fall in love with each other? If you can’t I understand.

Thank you 🤍

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary:  Y/N’s training begins, but not before she discovers one of Obito’s secrets.

Words: 1.7k

AO3

Please reblog or like if you enjoy, comments are always welcome <3

5:30 in the morning. It is the sixth time Y/N has woken up. This whole concussion thing has messed up her whole sleeping schedule, she tried her best to get some rest, but to no avail. She ended up sleeping for about fourteen or fifteen hours between small intervals, but she feels worse than before. 

Y/N drags herself out of bed, makes some coffee, and brushes her teeth, the whole deal. Having a constant roof above her head is nice, she has to admit that. Not having to worry about wild animals and the climate is cool, but the warmth of a bed is the best part of it. Tying her brand new bandana on her forehead, she leaves the small apartment and heads to the training grounds on the outskirts of the village.  

She makes her way through the village’s main market, trying to avoid stumbling onto the hundreds of busy people bustling around her. Watching people attend to their duties and following their routines has always been a hobby of hers, she always found interest in seeing people who can afford to do the same thing every day, have some sort of routine. Can she consider herself one of them now? No, maybe not. Ninjas are always doing different missions and whatnot; their routines are as fucked up as a merc’s. Maybe she can become a baker in another life, who knows? 

Around the corner, a hand blocking her way surprises her. At the end of it is a medium height man with his hair tucked into some sort of fabric, with bits of brown hair coming out of the sides. The man holds a toothpick between his lips, accompanied by a smug smile and an attitude that instantly annoys Y/N. 

“’Sup babygirl, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

“I’ve been busy for the last 26 years”

“Busy living in my dreams, I bet”

“Busy fucking you mom, actually”

The sleazy type is the worst in Y/N’s opinion. Nothing disgusts her more than someone who thinks they’re hot shit just because they’re attractive. She pushes him away and keeps on walking.  

“Ouch! Feisty, I like that. I’ll remember ya!” he states as he leaves the scene with a wink and a flick of his toothpick. 

This has to be a joke, what a douchebag.

Going back on her way and observing the people, she closes into a mass of messy short black hair. The man has his back turned to her, but by the jonin vest and height, she assumes it could be… no, wait… it could not be! This man is helping an old lady carry a shitload of groceries, he would never be nice enough to do that. 

Could it be him!?

From afar, she changes angle to try and catch a glimpse of his face. After much difficulty dodging busy locals, she is able to see clearly and… it’s Obito! Obito Uchiha helping a poor old lady carry her stuff, I wish I had a camera on me. She thinks of approaching him, but she decides against it in favor of watching from a distance to see where this goes. 

Turns out the frail woman lives on the other side of town. Obito sure enough has carried all that stuff through the worst climbs Y/N has ever seen on a city. But that was not all: he was being extra nice. He laughed at all her jokes and even smiled back at her. This is grade A entertainment. 

When they finally reach her destination, the old lady pulls out a lollypop and gives it to him. Y/N immediately loses her shit, almost falling from the ceiling she is in because of her fit of laughter. Before she can compose herself, she notices a presence behind her. She was discovered, but who cares? She has seen enough. Obito towers above her, trying to look intimidating, but failing to do so since he has a lollipop on his mouth. 

“First you invade my house, now you’re following me. Are you sure I’m the one who should be called a creep?”

“Well, you’re right. Maybe I’ll start calling you… Granny Simp Uchiha©, how about that?”  

“I hate you”

“Ow, I’m so hurt, oh my god, how could you? But seriously, I didn’t mean to intrude, but when I saw that… I needed to see more to believe it” She states as she breaks into another fit of laughter

“Let’s go, we’re late for training”

“Have you ever been on time a day of your life, though?”

“Never, I’ll probably be late for my own funeral”

“Fair enough. Wait, did you just make a joke that’s not on my expense?”

“Oh no, your dumbassery is influencing me!” He raises his gloved hands ironically

“Shut up”

 ~”~

 They both reach the training grounds at around 7:30, late but not a whole lot, thanks to Obito’s kamui. Obito will have to make some slight modifications on the mission report to avoid Minato’s wrath. After a quick warmup, Obito goes straight to the point: 

“How much do you even know about jutsu?”

“Well… I can do that chakra punch, maybe walk on water and trees or release genjutsu, but that’s all.”

“Not even a clone or some substitution jutsu?”

“Nope”

“So you’re basically an academy student with enough brute force to take down S rank criminals… That’s… odd”

Y/N scratches the back of her head, clearly embarrassed by her lack of training. Obito did not expect to have to teach such basic things. I mean, if he wanted to teach people stuff he would have signed up for a job at the academy. He still cannot believe Minato sensei is putting him up to this babysitting job. 

He needs to do well on this mission if he wants to get back onto the Hokage’s good side and guarantee his position as the next one. This is his second day with Y/N and things have been insane and… fun? No, he should not be thinking like that. Perhaps he should also go talk with Kushina and ask her to convince sensei to let him go from this one; he was always her favorite after all.

“Granny simp? You ok? Did I disappoint you that much?”

Obito fixes his bandana’s position over his left eye, trying to get himself out of his head. He is here now, so he had better get to work. If he can control himself enough not to put her under a nasty genjutsu for calling him that again, that is. 

“Call me that again and I’ll tell everyone that you saw me naked”

“You were not naked, dickhead. And what’s wrong with that?”

“Uhm…?”

“…?”

“Anyway… we’ll start with some cloning jutsu. Have you ever done any seals?”

“Only one or two”

“Try to copy what I’m doing”

“Hey! Stop doing it so fast!”

She honestly seems to be giving her best, but her hand signs are not quite right and the chakra distribution on her network must be all wrong, judging by her failure in producing something that seems to be remotely human. This takes Obito’s memory back to his old academy days, back when he could not do a single clone properly. He would spend whole nights awake training to achieve something passable. Rin helped him a lot back then. The only thing he has ever taught someone was that sexy jutsu to Naruto. To say Kushina was mad was an understatement. 

“Concentrate your chakra all along your body, not only on your hands”

“Hum… right, can I get a lollipop after this?”

Four hours later and Y/N has finally mastered two basic jutsu: substitution and cloning. She almost passed out several times due to exhaustion, but thanks to some food pills, she is enduring todays training much better. 

Obito has been analyzing her every movement with his sharingan. Looking closely her techniques lack grace, truly a sign of someone who learned everything they know by experience. He needs to fix that too. 

Her endurance is also remarkably low. If she were to fight right now, she could do maybe two or three jutsu before passing out, making her rely solely onto her speed and blade habilities. The girl is more of a samurai than a ninja at this point. Examining her file earlier, he noticed that her chakra reserves are not that low as she has stated before, according to the medical department she has an average quantity of it. She just lacks the ability to use it properly.  

Some very hard work is in order; it could take some months to get her into decent shape. That would be too much time and effort for Obito, there has to be another way of dealing with this mission quicker. 

He did not want to do this, but he will have to talk to Kakashi for some teaching tips. Hell, if he was able to teach anything useful to Naruto he will be able to come up with a routine to help Y/N’s training. 

I just hope he doesn’t decide to bother me about this situation…

After dropping Y/N on her house, with much protest from her part, Obito heads to the village’s café to meet with Kakashi Hatake. He knows that the ninja likes to spend his late afternoons reading his porn books accompanied by some coffee, disgusting stuff if you ask Obito. The coffee, that is. He has no formed opinion on porn books.

Approaching the store, he spots his friend’s mass of upward pointing grey hair. Something is different about him, though. Kakashi is usually… a very apathetic person. The look he gave Obito had chills running the Uchiha’s spine, he looked, well, excited. 

“Obito! I finally found you! Sit down”

Aliens killed him and this is a body double. Or this is one of Gai’s practical jokes. Obito is honestly stumped.

“Are you ok bakashi?”

“Great! So… who’s the girl?”

Great, just awesome.      

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Of course you know, everyone is talking about how you were seen walking up and down with some mysterious gal. I’m so happy for you! Finally you’re going to stop being a sad grumpy bachelor! I’ll call dibs on the position of best-man” and suddenly Kakashi jumps up from his seat, coming closer to Obito’s face “Have you guys done it yet? Did she run away from you and now you need my advice? You could use some techniques from Icha I-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Those books are rotting your brain, seriously what the hell?”

“So is it true?”

[anxious-ace]

Some south park bois bullshit (warning, some ideas/headcannons are heavy and it's obvious who's my favorite and who's the one I want to drop kick into the sun)

Kenny:

Kenny's first role in his acting career was McCormick

He was based off of his experiences

He is also pansexual and Genderfluid

one of the guys would pay for his lunches, mostly butters

Eye color changes after every death (will sometimes have heterochromia)

Scars remain after every death

The morning after a death, he will still feel the pain from that death

Like the wound is healed but it hurts like it's still fresh

The day after that the pain will go away by itself

McAllister actually died everytime McCormick did

McAllister looks at fanart of his characters (he appreciates the styles and creativity of his fans, ok?)

Best friends were Butters/Leo, Stan, Kyle, Clyde, Token, Tweek and Craig (they're still friends but now Kate and Toby have made the list too)

The cult that his parents were involved in branded him as a child

Has stolen clothes from his friends

Calls Butters "Leo" (short for Leopold)

Again, he still does the Mysterion shit

He has remade both his and princess Kenny's outfits

He has figured out where his powers came from and is now trying to control them

Repressed rage from his friends not remembering (or he thinks they don't because of the directors telling them to pretend they don't remember because acting)

He and Jackson have been dating for about a year now

He and his friends have all moved to New York before the pandemic

Again, his sleep schedule and mental health are fucked

Kinda hates the holidays because of trauma

The big Christmas tree (like the ones usually in town halls) fell over and the glass star broke and stabbed him

He can not look at a Christmas tree that big without getting flashbacks

Smaller trees are fine

Kevin once bashed his head in when he was three, his biological dad accidentally put him in the oven when he was a toddler and his mom shook him at lot as a baby

Karen is the only one in his biological family that hasn't killed him

He can sew, bake, play multiple instruments, sing, draw, fight (mostly hand-to-hand combat) etc.

His skin and hair color "change" during the summer, his freckles also come out a bit more

He tans and he hair bleaches (is that the right terminology?)

Isn't actually out to a lot of people (thanks Cartman)

Cartman told him some hurtful things when he overheard him talking about it with Kyle (ie. "Pick a gender." "no one wants to date a cheater." "That's not a thing.")

He and Karen share a room in Tim and Brian's house (of course they do)

Will just pull the parka's hood over his face when he's upset

Has journals full of all of his deaths (in gruesome detail)

Has been called an eldritch abomination

Definitely has some physical and mental issues from immortality, his home life, whatever the fuck is happening in ghost handbook and being born prematurely

Everyone is both surprised and not surprised he made it into two honors classes and a college course

Sometimes he just goes into the woods and comes back with some kind of animal he fought from a hawk or something

Whenever Kyle and Cartman are butting heads, he and Stan will just do something else together

Butters will tag along too

Whenever he gets mad, his southern accent is more prominent

Dyed half of his hair brown to represent Jude's hair color

He just flips his hair over to the other side of his head when Jude fronts to show the brown hair

Is actively trying to get Stan and Kyle together

Kyle:

Best subject is math

Helped Kenny figure out where his powers came from

Was one of the only people who Kenny and Stan came out to

In return they're helping him with his gender and sexuality

(Asexual biromantic guy)

Usually the first one to run over to Kenny or Stan when they start panicking

Has had Kenny over multiple times

Still makes bets with Cartman but now he wins most of them because Cartman's a dumbass

I think he canonically has diabetes

Also has repressed anger issues

Will throw hands

They are more prominent than Kenny's but Kenny's are still there

He and Kenny hang out a lot on Christmas for obvious reasons (Kyle's Jewish and Kenny has P.T.S.D.)

He and Stan are thinking about dating each other but are unsure

(I don't want his only character traits to be anger issues, Judaism and good grades but I don't really know how to characterize him outside of that, he does care for his friends and he is the voice of reason)

He does do a lot of research on whatever his friends need (like Stan and his aspergers, Kenny and his clusterfuck of issues, Cartman and his probable psychosis and so on and so forth)

Has tried to straighten his hair

Has wrestled alcohol and drugs from Stan and Kenny

Has a backpack full of things for his diabetes

He also has everyone's prescriptions and stuff for when someone goes non-verbal

He and Stan definitely have some kind of friendship jewelry (friendship bracelets, friendship bracelets, etc.)

Is usually the one who doesn't reply immediately but doesn't wait 3 weeks to reply either

He'll give it like a minute or so before he replies because he usually thinks over what he's going to say (expect when mad obviously)

Made the group chat they're in

He had Stan help remake his human kite costume (mostly the kite itself)

Was the first one (out side of Kenny's family, biological and adopted) to find out about Jude and his D.I.D in general

The poor guy still has flashbacks whenever he fronts

Stan:

Runs track

Still struggling with alcoholism

Aspergers

Probably the best artist in the group

Kyle helped him with his gender and sexuality

(Demisexual biromantic cis guy)

Can sew and play guitar

Again, whenever Kyle and Cartman are butting heads, he and Kenny will do something else together

Helped everyone with redoing their respective alter ego's costume

Allergic to vanilla

Is probably really high on Kenny's list of best friends

Is trying to help him figure out his powers

Would be the fastest if Kenny wasn't so fucking tall

Still talks to Wendy but kinda wants to date Kyle

Has scars from his first encounter with Jude

Eric:

Is still the sadistic tub of lard he was back then

He hasn't done anything as bad as feeding his father to his half brother or dressing up as Hitler recently, but he hasn't done anything good either

Is the reason Kenny isn't out (this goes for sexuality, gender, mental issues and physical issues)

Has basically said, "shut it, no one wants to hear it." every time Kenny had something to say

Has lost some weight but is not what is considered "healthy"

Everyone is fucking ecstatic whenever he gets dumped or beaten to a pulp (you can tell I kinda hate the spoiled bastard)

[dameronology]

tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 2

part two: a comprehensive study of how far you can push a cowboy before he breaks

summary: you continue to try and break jack’s ego, but nothing seems to be working - especially when you have to play a married couple, and his observant tendencies begin to break your confident facade instead 

song for this chapter: my friend by hayley williams

ok so this wasn’t gonna be out until december 1st but someone who donated to my ko-fi asked for part 2 and...i couldn’t resist. this also touches a little more on the reader + eggsy’s relationship and it’s background. enjoy!

- jamie

series masterlist

You had to give to the the Statesmen - the apartment they had leased you was fucking nice. 

It struck the balance between modern and homely, complete with a bath tub big enough for the whole damn agency and a bed to match. You knew that they had money, but not this much. The Kingsmen were wealthy but the Statesman put them to shame. It was a lifestyle you were happy to get used to, especially on the first morning. You’d woken up not long after 6AM - your body was still working on British time, after all - when it was still dark outside. The navy blue of the sky was pouring through the large windows, and paired with the remaining city lights, it lit up the bedroom in a cerulean glow. 

Blinking under the distant blue smoulder, you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed. The bedroom itself was about the same size as your apartment back home and man, it was something you could have easily gotten used to. A bathtub the size of a swimming pool? Don’t mind if I do. A bed big enough to roll to your heart's content and not fall out? Fuck yeah. It made you wonder how rich some of your new colleagues were. You had noticed that Tequila drove an unusually expensive sports car. 

You frowned when you noticed that there was something heavy sprawled across your feet. It wasn’t necessarily in the bed, but rather strewn across the duvet. You rolled your eyes, letting out a sigh. 

‘Fuck’s sake, Eggsy!’ you raised your leg, kicking him front under the covers. ‘Why the bloody hell are you in here?’

Your friend suddenly jumped awake, almost falling off the mattress as you kicked him again. ‘Ow! Ribs!’

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘You haven’t tried to share a bed with me since we were ten!’ You tossed a pillow at him. ‘So I’ll ask again - why the bloody hell are you in here?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He grumbled. 

Your frown softened, and you let out a sigh. ‘Have you been having nightmares about Galahad again? Because Merlin said he was making strides towards getting better-’

‘- That day from the church is still ingrained in my head.’ Eggsy cut you off, tucking his knees into his chest and under his chin. ‘It keeps playing over and over.’

It was something you sympathised with. Working as a Kingsman brought good days and bad days, but the latter would stick in your mind a thousand times more. You’d learnt to live with it by that point but then again, you were easier at separating your emotions from your professional life. You had a good rapport with your colleagues - minus the doofus at the foot of your bed, who might as well have been an annoying brother - but you tried not to become attached. It only made it harder when you lost them, 

‘Time, Eggsy.’ You leant over the bed to give his arm a squeeze. ‘You need time.’

‘It’s been almost a year-’

‘- recovery isn’t a race.’ You firmly interrupted. ‘And healing isn’t linear, for you or for Gala - for Harry.’ 

You’d become so accustomed to codenames that they felt personal. Harry was Galahad, and Amish was Merlin. You’d never called Roxy anything other than Lancelot. It just didn’t feel right. 

‘I hate when you make sense-’

Eggy’s rumbling was cut off by the sound of the front door and the fall of footsteps. You immediately leapt out of bed, tearing your gun from the bedside table. Pointing it out in front of you, you slowly kicked open the door and crept out in the hallway, weapon leading the way. 

‘Morning sunshine-’ Whiskey stopped in his tracks when he saw the pistol aimed in his direction. ‘Well that ain’t a very warm welcome is it, Percy?’

‘Percy?’ The words rolled off of your tongue with a tone of disbelief. Admittedly, the new nickname shouldn’t have been your first concern when you were a) wearing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas and b) pointing a gun at your new colleague, but priorities didn’t apply in this situation.

‘Short for Percival!’ Eggsy called from the bedroom.

‘Oh, I do apologise.’ He held his hands up in surrender. ‘Was I interrupting something-’

‘- Gross!’ You exclaimed. ‘No!’

‘Hey!’ Another call from the bedroom. ‘You would be lucky-’

You cut your friend off by slamming the bedroom door. ‘What do you want, Whiskey? It’s six in the fucking morning.’

‘And yet you’re up and pointing a gun at my head.’ The cowboy reasoned, complete with a small shrug. ‘Want to put the weapon down, pretty lady?’

Growling at the use of another nickname, you threw the gun onto one of the side-tables. That was when you realised you’d sprinted out the bedroom in cartoon pajamas, only to come face-to-face with Whiskey, who was in his usual leather jacket and hat. Frankly, you should have slapped it right off his head. That would have taught him to come bursting into your apartment at the crack of dawn. 

‘Maybe knock next time?’ You suggested, stalking through to the kitchen. ‘Especially considering that it’s not even light outside. A little bit predatorial, don’t you think?’

‘If you’d checked the schedule I emailed you, you would know that we have to be in the field in forty-five minutes.’ Jack shot back, leaning against the counter. ‘You should check your phone more often. I thought that most of your generation had their cell-phones glued to their hands.’

‘Okay, grandad.’ You snorted. His dark eyes followed you as you darted around the kitchen, piling together a cup of coffee on autopilot. ‘What’re we doing in the field?’

‘Recon.’ He said. ‘One of Calahan’s contacts has been spotted working a jewellery stand down at 30 Rock.’

‘Okay, give me thirty minutes.’ You tossed a piece of bread into the toaster.

‘Dress...touristy.’ 

--

‘That is not touristy.’

Usually, Jack Daniels would have been the last person to object to a woman wearing a dress and heels, but you were supposed to be blending in with crowds, not standing out. He clearly hadn’t got the memo that you didn’t do casual - not in a professional sense, at least. In some way, you were matching, because you too were wearing a leather jacket. It was a staple in your wardrobe. 

‘Would you rather I have stayed in the turtle pajamas?’ You glanced across the table at him, thinning your eyes. 

‘Tourists don’t wear Christian Louboutins.’ The cowboy muttered. 

‘I wear Christian Louboutins.’ You shot back. ‘But points for recognizing the brand.’ 

‘Here.’ Jack swiped a t-shirt off of a cart as they passed by, thrusting a fifty in the vendor’s hand. ‘Wear this.’ 

He shoved a t-shirt into your hand; it was about ten sizes too big for you with ‘I ❤️  NY’ blazoned across the front. For a minute, you thought he was kidding, but Jack’s serious expression barely faltered. You tried to counter the look, quirking your brow as if to say yeah, good one. 

‘I’m serious, Agent. We can’t blow our cover.’ 

‘What cover?’ You frowned. ‘You never said anything about a cover.’ 

‘Our guy works for a jewelry vendor.’ Jack flashed a grin at you, before pulling a pair of glasses out of his pocket. ‘We need to get inside and get footage of the shop for the agents coming in tonight. These babies will live stream it right back to Ginger HQ.’

‘So I have to go jewelry shopping?’ 

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘We are going ring shopping, Mrs Daniels.’ 

‘You’re not serious.’ Your eyebrows shot up. 

‘I think we would make a very attractive couple.’ He retorted. ‘A bright-eyed Brit falling in love with a cowboy, their feelings for each other spanning the Pacific-’

‘- Atlantic-’

‘- ocean.’ 

‘Whatever.’ You pulled off your jacket, yanking the t-shirt from his hands and tugging it over your head. The shirt ended up being longer than your dress, and with your tights and heels it worked in a way that it definitely shouldn’t have. ‘Let’s just get this over and done with. I’m tired.’

‘Incidentally, that’s something you would also say if you were my wife.’

You responded again with a groan, elongating it slightly when Jack wound an arm around your waist, as though somebody had just yelled action! 

How hard could it be? You’d been undercover as part of a couple before - admittedly, that had been with people you’d already had a rapport with, and ones who didn’t drive you up the wall as much as Whiskey. Eggsy was a close call, but having been your best friend for the better part of twenty years, it was easy to convince people you were a real couple. It had been a little awkward with Merlin and you had almost flat out refused to do it with Galahad, but there hadn’t been so much at risk then. If this recon went well, it could lead to leaps and strides in your bigger mission. Finding Calahan, proving yourself worthy of a promotion and eventual world domination (in a hero kinda way). 

‘Let’s go over the fine details.’ You murmured to him, glancing around as you entered the shopping strip inside 30 Rock. ‘Where did we meet?’

‘London. I was on a business trip.’ Whiskey quickly replied. ‘How did I propose?’

‘In front of the Eiffel Tower.’ You said. ‘And where do we live now?’

‘Kentucky, but we’re in New York because we plan on getting married here.’ He said. ‘You ready?’

‘Let’s go.’ You linked your arms with his, plastering on a fake grin as you entered the jewelry store.  ‘My glasses are recording this straight back to HQ.’

‘Hey there, cowboy!’ Calahan’s contact greeted you immediately. He wasn’t what you’d expected - the man was decked out in a suit and tie, complete with a dodgy looking spray tan and teeth so white they could probably reflect the fucking sun. ‘And pretty lady.’

It had been bad enough when Whiskey called you that. But this guy? Gross - and Jack couldn’t help but notice how you tensed up at the nickname. 

‘Watch it, pal.’ Jack joked. ‘That’s my fiancee you’re talking to.’

‘And I assume that’s what brings you in today?’ He flashed a grin at you. ‘I couldn’t help but notice she doesn’t have a ring.’

‘See if you can move closer to the case by the fire exit.’ Ginger’s voice came over your earpiece. 

‘These ones here look pretty!’ You suddenly exclaimed, grabbing Jack by the arm and yanking him in the direction that Ginger had requested. The cowboy let out a surprised yelp as you did, stumbling slightly as you dragged him across the store. 

‘Perfect. Thank you.’ She quietly said over the line. 

‘Any in particular catch your eye, Miss…’

‘It will be Mrs Jones when we get married.’ You plastered on the biggest shit-eating grin that you could muster. ‘And that one in the top corner is very pretty.’

‘That’s one of our most expensive rings.’ The jeweler’s grin was bigger than yours. ‘Is your event going to be as big? You know...price wise?’

‘Oh yeah!’ You chimed in, barely giving Jack a chance to think. ‘We’re renting out the Plaza Hotel. I’m wearing a vintage Emanuel dress inspired by the Princess of Wales and our honeymoon is three weeks in the Bahamas.’

You just had to ramble for a little bit longer whilst Jack looked around to get the footage. Luckily, it was something you were good at. You could talk somebody’s ear off if you had to and bullshit to the next degree; it had saved your ass on missions more times than you’d care to admit. If you ever retired from the Kingsman, you probably had a promising career as an actress. 

‘All this before you’ve chosen a ring?’ He raised his eyebrows at you. You’d been quick on your feet - so much so that you’d tripped and fallen. 

‘My baby’s been planning this thing since was a little girl.’ Whiskey quickly stepped in. ‘And it’s my job to make sure she gets it.’

‘He’s a lawyer.’ You went up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Jack’s cheek. ‘I’m marrying good.’

‘Oh!’ The jeweler glanced between the two of you. ‘This makes more sense now.’

‘Right, we’ve got enough footage.’ Merlin said. ‘You two can get the bloody hell out of there before I puke.’

After making an appointment to return the following day - which neither of you planned on going to, obviously - Jack took your hand and led you out the store. To keep up appearances, you kept your fingers intertwined as you walked back through the shopping mall. The fact you had managed to play a believable couple on such short notice was almost astounding. 

‘Oh my god.’ You murmured, glancing over your shoulder as you exited the mall and turned the corner. You pulled your hand back from Jack’s, stifling a laugh. ‘I can’t believe we actually managed to do it.’

‘Why are you so shocked?’ Whiskey peered down at you, a grin playing on his lips. ‘Like I said - we would make a very attractive couple, sugar.’

‘In your dreams, Daniels.’ You shot back. ‘But if I ever do end up in a relationship like that? Shoot me. I beg you.’

You kept strolling together, slowly heading for the Statesman headquarters - but neither of you were in a rush. Whatever the hell that was had just broken the initial tension between you, and you were actually enjoying one another’s company for the moment. 

‘What’s wrong with it?’ He asked. ‘Ain’t nothing bad about a man looking after his woman.’

‘That’s so outdated.’ You groaned. 

‘It’s not!’ Jack protested. ‘A man looks after his girl and his girl looks after him. Or a husband and husband, or wife and wife-’

‘- how progressive of you.’ You cut him off, rolling your eyes. ‘I don’t rely on anyone. Ever. I look after myself.’

It was probably a cultural difference. Jack had grown up in the south, in a household where his dad worked and his mum looked after the house. It had been the same with his late wife; had things not gone the way they had, he’d probably be the breadwinner whilst she stayed home with the kids. You, meanwhile, had grown up in a working class area of London where a majority of the households were headed by women - and most of the time, single women. If there was some unheard of future where you got married and had kids, like hell would you give up your career. Your job was your baby. 

‘We all need people to look after us sometimes.’ Jack nudged you with his elbow.

You shook your head. ‘Not me.’

‘Well you sound like a real heart-breaker, Miss Independent.’ 

‘It’s my speciality.’ 

--

Once you’d handed over the footage from your glasses to Ginger, you and Whiskey headed to the office. There was a comfortable silence between you - pretending to be a married couple had been one hell of an ice breaker. At least it was proof that you and Jack could work well together. You’d stayed on the same page for the entirety of your little improv love story, and it meant your first mission, however minor, had been a success. If working with him was going to like that for the rest of your time in New York, you might have been able to tolerate him and his ridiculous Southern drawl. 

(Not to mention the nicknames. It left you wondering if Jack had forgotten your actual name and was too afraid to ask.) 

Eggsy was waiting for you in the lobby outside the lift. He was leant against the wall, feet crossed in front of him as he tapped away on his phone. A frown came over your face when you realised that he had a bag beside him. He was scheduled to stay in the city with you until at least the following weekend. You had plans for a few days time to try and use your contacts to sneak into a filming of Saturday Night Live. 

‘Hey!’ Your best friend brightly greeted you. ‘Guess what? Tilde called!’

‘That’s great!’ You forced a smile. ‘So you’re heading back to London tonight?’

‘Yeah.’ His grin didn’t falter. ‘I figured since you two played a married couple successfully, you didn’t need me to stick around to babysit you and make sure you didn’t eat him alive.’

‘It’s still early days.’ You reasoned. ‘Are you sure you don’t wanna stay a couple more days? Adam Driver’s the guest on SNL this weekend.’

‘I gotta get back and fix things, man.’ Eggsy said. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.’

‘Right, of course.’ You held your arms out to him. 

He stepped forward and wrapped his own around you, lifting you off the ground and giving you a tight squeeze. If you had to choose one of your favourite things about Eggsy, it would have to be his hugs. The only reason you’d stopped calling him Hugsy was because he’d threatened to take them away entirely. They were far and few, usually when you were going to spend time apart, but you always appreciated them. 

‘I’ll see you in a few weeks, tops.’ He said, placing you back on the ground. ‘And I promise we’ll get into SNL then.’

‘You better.’ You poked his chest. ‘I’ll miss you, Egghead.’

‘I’ll miss you more.’

You let out a tiny sigh as Eggsy picked up his bags and headed for the lift. You weren’t mad at him for going home early - just disappointed. And not at him, just at the situation, It had been a long time since you’d got to properly spend time together outside of work. Above all, however, you knew you had to respect his relationship. What kind of friend would you be to stand in the way of him and love? 

Once he was out of sight, you regathered yourself and headed to the office. Jack was already inside, his feet propped up on the desk and a glass of his namesake whiskey in hand. It was the first time he’d taken off his hat in front of you, and his hair was a little ruffled from it. 

‘Don’t need anyone my ass’ was the greeting he offered you. 

‘What?’ You furrowed your brow. 

Jack pushed his feet back to the floor, handing you your own glass of...well, Jack.  ‘I saw the way you looked at your boy, Percy.’

‘I told you before!’ You snatched the glass from his hand, dropping into your chair. ‘Eggsy is not my boyfriend.’

‘Doesn’t have to be’.’ He shrugged. ‘You looked like you were losing your brother. Tweedle Dum ain’t nothing without Tweedle Dee.’ 

Eggsy was your brother, by all intents and purposes. Heck, he might as well have been your twin. Your fathers had been best friends when they were in Kingsman, and you and him were reflections of that. You’d gone through every high and low of your teenage years together, and eventually adulthood. As previously established, he often came to you and he often needed you, but you hated to consider how it might have gone the other way. He was the only exception to your needing no one rule. And, considering that not even your own mother had made the cut, it was actually quite complimentary. 

‘I don’t need Eggsy.’ You insisted. 

‘How long have you known each other?’ Jack ignored your statement, instead posing a question. ‘Since school?’

‘No. He’s six months older than me, so...my whole life.’

‘I rest my case.’

‘You know nothing, Whiskey!’ You exclaimed. ‘You can’t make massive assumptions about me when you’ve known me for two days.’

‘I’ve met a woman like you before.’ He replied. He pondered for a moment, and his eyes were almost...vacant. ‘She pretended she didn’t need a damn person either, but she did.’

‘And who was that?’ You thinned your eyes at me. ‘Because I can’t think of a single person who I need.’ 

‘She needed me.’ He casually shrugged. ‘And I needed her.’

‘Right. Naturally.’ You murmured. ‘It’s too early for this, Whiskey.’

‘Got too deep for you, Tea?’

‘The hell did you just call me?’

‘Tea.’ He offered you a shit eat grin. ‘Get it? Because you’re British-’

‘- this face isn’t because I didn’t get it.’ You cut him off. ‘And on that note, I am done here. I shall be working from home this evening and possibly for the rest of eternity.’ 

Swiping your glass up, you poured the entirety of its contents down your throat in one swig, before slamming it back on the table. The whiskey burnt for a split second, but it felt good - and you didn’t need to be skidding down that slippery slope at two in the afternoon. Gathering up your bag, you swung it over your shoulder and stood up. 

‘Oh, c’mon!’ Jack protested. ‘We were just starting to get along, sugar!’

‘We were!’ You shot back, pausing when you were half-way out the door. ‘Then you started therapising me.’

He grinned at you. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Maybe.’

‘You’re contractually obliged!’

‘Fuuuck off!’ 

[drazzilder]

A Hellish Encounter

By Drazzilder

Chapter 14: Christmas

The week flew by as everyone was preparing for Christmas, the city full of shoppers and flooded with the sights and sounds of the holiday. Everyone was doing their part to make things happen. Sanji and Enji were busy looking at every website, every production facility, anywhere they could think to find that toy for you. They are putting in the hours to try to make it by Christmas. You have your suspicions when he is staying late at work but you want to keep the surprise.

You are having much better luck at getting his present ready in time. You help pack the kids’ things, making sure the they are ok with moving back. They even wrote some ground rules to make sure things don’t go back to the way they were. Even though Hina is just a live-in nanny, she has been with the kids long enough to grow attached to them and she is doing everything she can to help them as well. Every time you come over, she greets you as if your family and the kids are even getting used to your presence.

H: “It looks like that should be everything. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

(Y/N): “I think so. Enji always wakes up around 6 so if I get up at 5 that should give me enough time to get here and move everything to your rooms. Then I’ll teleport all of us to the kitchen where we can start cooking breakfast. He did say his favorite way to wake up is to the sounds and smells of me cooking.”

F: “Don’t you think he will be suspicious?”

(Y/N): “With the long hours he is been putting at work lately, he sleeps like a rock.”

N: “There he goes, overworking again…”

H: “Actually, I think it’s a little different this time. Think about it, that man isn’t the best with emotions, he is probably trying to find the perfect gift for everyone.”

S: “Dad is actually thinking about us?”

(Y/N): “I can tell you that he has been asking me for some ideas for you.”

F: “SPILL IT!!I want to know if he is getting us something good.” She says practically jumping up and down like a little kid.

N: “It’s probably just going to be money and some clothes like it always is.”

(Y/N): “You will have to wait till tomorrow to see.” You say with a smile.

S: “I can wait till tomorrow to be disappointed.”

Z: “Gosh, you boys need to lighten up, can’t you see the man is trying!”

Everyone laughs a little as you finish up the last of the packing. You hug everyone and you quickly head back home.

~

“DAMN IT!” Enji yells in anger at his computer. “Another fan made doll. Why does this have to be so hard to find!”

His phone rings. “What?!”

“Hello Enji.”

“Oh…sorry Sanji. I’m just a little worked up right now”

“I know, but I called you to give you some news.”

“Did you find it?” He says with a little excitement in his voice.

“Not quite, but I have a lead in working on. Apparently, some Yakuza have been seen with a few of them. They were selling them on the black market.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to go buy one from them?”

“Ok, I won’t. Bye.”

“SANJI WAIT, IT’S TOO DANGEROUS!” He pleads but she already hung up. “Damn it, if she gets hurt, I’ll….”

“You’ll what, Enji?” You say as you come into the home office.

“Oh….um…. it’s nothing.” He sometimes forgets you can teleport and you caught him off guard.

“Ok....So you want to watch a cheesy Christmas movie and cuddle?”

“That sounds awful….” He says rolling his eyes.

You two spend the rest of the evening together ‘watching’ a movie. You are in your new favorite sitting position on the couch: Enji sitting behind you with his arms around you and his chin on your head, you slouched in his lap with a blanket over the both of you. You’re sitting on the couch together shirtless, the more contact you get with that warm skin of his, the better. Enji can’t help himself during the movie and begins to kiss your head and nibble your ear. You push back against his chest to get more contact with him and he responds by tightening his grip and warming up some more. The movie becomes background noise as you both put your attention on each other. After the movie is over you both head off to bed. Even though it’s the middle of winter you both still strip down to your underwear, partly because it’s so comfortable being next to Enji but also, he radiates so much heat when you’re around you practically sweat each night.

~

Christmas morning you managed to wake up 5 minutes before your scheduled time, so you gently move off of Enji and get dressed in the dark. You quickly head downstairs as to not wake him up with the flash of light. You then appear at the apartment.

(Y/N): “Is everyone ready?”

H: “Just give Natsuo a minute to get up. Go ahead and start with the boxes.”

Z: “With pleasure.”

H: “You really like (Y/N) don’t you.”

Z: “He is the only human I don’t mind being put inside of.”

F: “You were inside other people before (Y/N)?”

Z: “12 before I meet (Y/N). Each one either couldn’t handle the testing or they took their own life.”

N: “How come he got to live.” He says as he enters rubbing his eyes.

Z: “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. He was the youngest human I was put inside of but he had one of the strongest wills.”

(Y/N): “Thank you Zaheer but we got to get going if we are going to make it on time.”

Z “Sorry, let’s go.”

You then quickly start to go to each room and teleport the boxes back to the house, making sure when you move them not to make too much noise. This takes about 10 minutes or so when you finally are done and just the kids and Hina are left. You all create a circle of hands and you teleport them to the kitchen at the house. Through the door they see the Christmas tree with large presents under it. They are about to get excited but you quickly remind them of what you are doing. You sense Enji is still sleeping so you all get to work cooking. Shoto is on rice, Fuyumi is on salmon, Natsuo takes care of the eggs and Hina gets the tea ready. You’re just about finished when you hear movement from upstairs.

“(Y/N), did you get up early to surprise me?” You all hear from a distance.

“Why don’t you come down and see your surprise!”

He slowly makes his way down; he is probably still groggy from a week of less sleep. You now remember the new habit you two formed of walking around the house without shirts on. At first it was to help with your self-confidence with your scars but you both can’t keep your hands of each other. It just turned into a habit after a little bit. You probably should have warned him to get dressed but it’s too late when he rounds the corner with just the pajama bottoms he put on. Once he sees what’s happening in the kitchen, he just stares for a moment, completely silent.

F: “Merry Christmas Dad.”

S and N: “Merry Christmas.”

H: “Merry Christmas.”

(Y/N): “Merry Christmas, Enji.”

Even though you have gone up and hugged him he is still in disbelief and hasn’t moved. It is only when you look at his eyes do you see why. A few tears start to well up and you kiss him on the cheek to break his stare.

E: “What is going on?”

F: “We are here for Christmas, cooking breakfast dad. Are you ok?”

E: “I…I…. I didn’t think you guys would actually want to come here ever again. Why are you here.”

N: “That demon you are dating is very persuasive.”

Z: “He isn’t dating me, he is dating (Y/N).”

(Y/N): “Why don’t you follow me and see the rest of your gift.”

You take his hand and lead everyone down the hallway to Shoto’s old bedroom. You slide the door open and turn on the light. Enji sees a pile of plain boxes neatly arranged in the middle.

E: “What are all of these? Are all these for me?”

H: “(Y/N), you’re going to have to spell it out for him. He doesn’t do subtle very well.”

(Y/N): “Enji, these boxes are your kids’ belongings. They are moving back home, today.”

With those words Enji just slams down on his knees, he couldn’t take the emotions as he starts to cry uncontrollably. You go to comfort him and Hina and Fuyumi join you. They motion to the boys and they come reluctantly.

E: “You can’t be serious? Is this a dream? Are you really moving back in with me?”

F: “Yes dad, we are back but you have to know it’s because of (Y/N) that we are willing to try.”

E: “What?” He manages to get out through sobs.

N: “We have laid out some ground rules we can go over but I don’t think you will remember them if we tell you now.”

E: “I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back in my life.”

You all stand in your embrace a little while more when Enji finally stopped crying and gets up.

(Y/N): “Ok, now that things have settled down, let’s go eat. And Enji, go get a shirt on.”

Enji looks down at himself and quickly goes red in embarrassment as he didn’t realize until now that he didn’t have on a shirt. He quickly bolts upstairs and comes down and everyone is sitting at the table with food in the center. After he sits everyone begins to eat. The food was really good, like always when you’re cooking. After some coffee and tea, you all moved into the living room to open presents. The kids only got you each a card but you both agreed you’re just happy they are home.

E: “Fuyumi why don’t we start with you.”

F: “Ok” she heads over to the pile of gifts and find she has the largest present out of all of them. She quickly moves it and starts to unwrap the package. “A bike?”

E: “I thought you could use a new bike for college. This one is the top-of-the-line model and is fully electric but can be pedaled manually as well. It has large baskets for your books and groceries. I hope you can use it.”

F: “I love it! Thank you!” She says as she hugs Enji.

E: “Natsuo, your next.” He says a little more relaxed knowing the last present went well.

N: “Well, if her gift was good then I hope mine is good too.”

As Natsuo opens his 2 boxes, the first one is a bunch of video games. He looks with confusion because they are for a console he doesn’t have. He then quickly rips the wrapping off the other box and finds it is the brand-new console that isn’t out for another 3 months.

N: “How did you get this? It’s not even out yet.”

E: “As the number 2 hero, you make some connections. (Y/N) told me you really wanted one of these so I pulled a few strings.

N: “Thank you so much! I can’t believe you did this.”

E: “Im glad you like it. Shoto, it’s your turn.”

S: “I’m on it.”

Shoto finds he has a large box that sounds like a bunch of smaller boxes in it. When he opens it is a bunch of hand and power tools. He looks at Enji with confusion.

E: “I was told you like to work with your hands and like working on DIY projects and building things. If you don’t like it, I can exchange this for something else.”

S: “I like it, I can use these for a few projects I want to work on.”

E: “Really? That’s good. I worked hard to try to get you all something that you would enjoy. Hina, I even got you something.”

He hands her a small box. When she opens it, she finds a gold tennis bracelet.

H: “Oh my gosh, Enji! You didn’t have to get my anything, this is so wonderful.”

E: “It’s a thank you for having to deal with me and raising my kids by yourself.”

H: “Um, I don’t know how to say this but there is nothing left under the tree, (Y/N) where is your gift?”

Enji sits up with horror in his eyes. He never managed to find the toy for you. He was so busy trying to get the best gift that he didn’t even think of a backup. His mind is racing and he starts to feel sick when you grab his hand.

(Y/N): “Its ok Enji. I wanted you to make you and your kids happy. I’m just happy that everyone is here.”

E: “But you didn’t get anythi….”

The doorbell interrupts his train of thought. He gets up to see who could possibly be at the door on Christmas Day. He opens the door and is surprised to see Sanji.

S: “Good morning, Enji.” As she hands him a package.

E: “What is this?”

S: “Give it to (Y/N).”

E: “You found it?”

S: “Yes, I did. Merry Christmas, Enji.”

E: “Did you want to stay?”

S: “No, I have my own family to get to but thank you.”

E: “Well you will be getting a large bonus this year.”

He closes the door and comes back to the living room. He sits down looking at the box.

F: “Who was that dad?”

E: “That was Sanji, she was dropping of my present to you.”

(Y/N): “Really? You didn’t have to get me anything, Enji.”

You slowly unwrap the box. It is just a plain brown box. You still are curious as you open the box. You take the object out and start to take the tissue paper off. When you finally see what was inside, your speechless.

(Y/N): “What? How did you? Where did you?”

E: “This is what I have been doing at the office. I have even looking for this.”

You hold up the stuffed doll of Endeavor, it is about a foot and a half tall with fake flames. It has a little zipper on the back to replace the batteries. You’re a little afraid to squeeze it but once you do, you hear ‘Prominence Burn!’ and you feel it start to warm up in your hands. You begin hugging it as you start to tear up just saying “Thank you.”

F: “Dad, I didn’t know there was a stuffed doll of toy that big.”

E: “There was a batch made as a test. They warm up when you squeeze them but it would catch fire too often so they didn’t make more. Apparently, (Y/N) got one as a kid to keep him warm in the test facility. I can’t believe there are any left.”

(Y/N): “It was the only warm thing I had as a kid. I thought I had the only one of these. Funny, when I first meet you, I saw the flames coming off of you and I wanted to go and hug you. I was so cold but looking at you was enough to give the energy to stop the bomb.”

E: “Merry Christmas (Y/N).”

(Y/N): “As much as I love this, I’m glad I don’t need to use it anymore.”

F: “Why’s that?”

“Because I have the real thing right here.” You say giving Enji a big squeeze. He responds by pulling you in for a kiss. The rest of the day flies by as the whole family is enjoying the time together. Everyone helps unpacking each other’s rooms and clean up a bit. You all have dinner, afterwards everyone goes to the living room to watch the Grinch. After the long day, everyone was exhausted from the excitement of the day. The kids fall asleep before you two.

“Thank you so much (Y/N). This is the best Christmas I ever had.”

“I think I can say the same thing. Thank you Enji.”

You two hug each other tightly in bed, causing the doll between you to sound and start to heat up. You both laugh a little and kiss one last time before going to sleep.

Next Chapter

[genesisrose74]

HEY BAE OK CAN I GET AN AESTHETIC MATCHUP??? FOR MHA??? IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE MY VIBES BUT IDK I THINK YOU KNOW ME P WELL AND YOU’VE SEEN ME BUT I’LL TELL YOU SOME STUFF: love love love piercings and tattoos! My closet (aside from work clothes) consists of mostly black, brown, gray, white, orange, and red and i like being scary goth sexy awooga😏😏 for music I LOVEEE midwest emo and pop punk but i’m also a total sucker for like indie folk and just vibey flowey music? idk how to describe it but it’s! so! good! my favorite animals are cows and i’m suPer into windmills. i think peak relationship/friendship is bullying the fuck out of each other like straight up cruelty but loving the absolute shit out of each other <3 i like to tease my friends and in person i’m pretty quiet and sarcastic (i’ve heard i’m rude and intimidating if u don’t know me :|) but i am also sweet asf. ok i know this isn’t a vibe matchup but i feel the need to clarify i can be super loud and energetic w my friends but i’m a big mf introvert and people always tell me i have a scowl on my face😐😐 i get asked what’s wrong so often for no reason pls i’m just trying to exist — i’m trying to think of more aesthetics uhhh. i’ll just list specific niche things.“under eye bags and dark circles, calling someone a dumbass with adoration, cigarettes in the dark, cold pavement on your feet early morning, walking in a forest at night, dim lighting and smoky rooms, a laugh filled kiss in secret, music playing in headphones way too loud, impulsive piercings, pushing your s/o around in a shopping cart, laughing too loud, playing with lighters, hair in bubble pigtails or double braids, hiding from the cops” ‼️‼️‼️

RAMSEY MY BELOVED!! When I tell you I was so incredibly excited to write your matchup I hope you take that at its full value because oh my gosh my brain exploded with all the possibilities here. There’s a couple options I think that could have suited you (because your vibe is incredibly chill and fun so it meshes well with a lot of characters), but in the end I without a doubt had to match you up with...

I swear that this shit is not even pandering because I know you’ve got a soft spot for this man — he is the ideal person for you. And in the slim,, almost nonexistent chance that you don’t want this reliable, lovable, dorky dumbass by your side, I will personally step in to take your place because good heavens is he just incredible.

Denki is loud and energetic most of the time, although he does have his share of mellow and sometimes more serious moments. He absolutely adores being around other people, and that sociable attitude is only emphasized when he’s around his closest friends. If you have a bit of trouble meshing with a group or a specific conversation, Denki will notice pretty damn quick and do whatever he can to make you feel comfortable and/or involved.

And if it’s lovable insults you want, he can and will provide. My man is friends with Bakugo Katsuki and the iconic Kyouka Jiro, so he knows how to take a roast and then jab right back if he so pleases. He’ll call you a dumbass in so many subtle ways that it would almost be hurtful if you both didn’t love each other to pieces (which you do), and the fact that you retort with an even sharper tongue makes him incredibly happy. Oh, and if he ever thinks he’s overstepped a line regarding your comfort zone, he won’t hesitate to apologize sincerely.

Denki is canonically a HUGE music fan. That space in his head that was supposed to be for academic knowledge instead harbors extensive information on pop culture and entertainment, and he loves sharing new things with you. Punk? Rock? Indie? He’ll have a taste of it all in his multiple playlists on Spotify Premium. Man turns up his headphone volume so loud that you’re confused as to how he isn’t deaf yet. If you’re having a rough day, he puts those big chunky (noise blocking!) ones over your ears and kisses the top of your head, tossing you his phone and letting you pick any song of preference.

Y’all have mandatory vibe parties in his dorm room every week. They can last as long as five hours without breaks. FIVE FUCKING HOURS. There’s snacks, you help pick out the songs in the queue, and someone nearly breaks an ankle during a transition from Mom Jeans’ “Edward 40hands” into The Oh Hellos’ “Bitter Water” but it’s all good in the end. He’s definitely a hype man too, so expect to dissolve into fits of laughter at his energized attempts to cheer you on.

Oh, he can also play electric guitar, so do with that information what you will. Just kidding, I’ll help boost your imagination a little bit: him teaching you the chords to a song you love while sitting in between his legs on the common room couch. With his fingers just barely grazing over your own as he guides you through. Send tweet.

I just know he doesn’t have a stable sleep schedule, so prep your night owl ass for some late night dorm sneak-in shenanigans and a few deep conversations to follow it. Do you both sometimes fall asleep on the floor of each other’s rooms at 3 am? Yeah...sometimes y’all share three brain cells combined, but it simply adds to your charm.

You make runs off campus together all the time, too! It’s a known fact around the Class 1-A dorm that you both love volunteering for monthly grocery shopping, but everyone finds it hard to trust the sound decision-making of you dorks after the incident — otherwise known as you and Denki spending a good fraction of the school-provided food funds on multiple random snack brands. ‘It was a one time thing,’ you insist, and since no one else wants to go on the grocery store trek they’re inclined to believe it. Some classmates were more excited about that particular event than others (although Kaminari swears on his vintage record collection that he saw Iida indulge himself on a pack of Pretz), so it’s become a regular thing for students to include a couple snack requests on their shopping list.

To sum it up, Denki makes sure that every day is never completely boring, and his primary payment comes in the occasional glimpse of your smile — and maybe a little kissy if that’s okay (yes, he literally says kissy 😘, istg punch him in the stomach or something he’s so fucking dumb). He’s charming in a stupid, dorky way, but so sincere where it counts that you can’t help but love him at all times. He’d love your ass so much and I just know it in my bones that he’d take care of you, throughout all of the stupid shit you experience together.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Eight

Ao3,  Masterpost,  C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6   C.7

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, mentioned platonic relationships.

Second chapter of the night, babe! I’m really going for it with finishing this story!! mostly no italics as is my usual, because tumblr Sucks <3 

Warnings: cursing, brief true-crime talk, sexual innuendo, depressive episodes, crying, LOTS of h/c, mentions of past neglect (ok neglect is a really strong word it isn’t that bad, but, idk what to call it), touch-starvation, honestly though this is a ridiculously fluffy chapter guys. 

Word count: 5,618

In three weeks, Patton and Remus had gone from borderline insomnia to a sleep schedule that could’ve impressed even Logan. 

And in three weeks, neither had spent a single night alone.

The talk they’d had after their first sleepover ended up leaving more of an impact than either had realized. Maybe it should’ve been expected: they were both accustomed to saying exactly what they meant, exactly how they meant it, and any sort of vow to ‘never let go’ couldn’t be used lightly for two creatures like that. 

So, independently, they both decided to be as literal as they could about it. God, were they clingy.

But it worked better than anything. There was less aching, more talking, and if they were feeling better, the whole Mindpalace improved. Something something, the delicate ecosystem of the human mind, blah blah. 

And then it worked too well. 

Neither of them really knew what had happened, or how to feel about it (it might have been sad or strange that neither had ever had anything to compare it to, but if asked, they’d both say that’s what made it so special. They’d be right to say so, of course). It was what they had, together.

It wasn’t romantic- they’d seen romantic, knew it as well as they could, didn’t care for it. But in the end who cared about semantics? It didn’t matter, the reasons why Patton stared after his friend for a little too long, or what was making it so hard for Remus not to kiss his pal smack on the lips every time he smiled. Another thing that didn’t matter was the why in response to how they still hadn’t talked about it, but… Patton and Remus had resolved that as a problem for another time.

What mattered was that it just was.

(And another thing that mattered, a little bit, was the how it had happened, and both of them understood that perfectly well.)

Remus lounged on the floor at the foot of his bed, Patton behind and above him. Patton’s fingers were working steadily through his mess of hair, while the pair half-watched TV. They didn’t agree on most shows, and neither of them were especially crazy about arguing, which meant it was twenty minutes of roundabout conversation until they stumbled across something they could mutually zone out to. Whatever. The system worked.

Remus typically preoccupied himself with drawing, painting, or carving some material into something or other (said something-or-other was almost always a knife or a dildo. Occasionally, it was both). 

Patton seemed to favor being distracted by Remus’ hair, though it wasn’t clear why. Remus hadn’t asked; it felt nice, and he was surprised that anyone would actually want to thread their fingers through those oily strings, so why question a good thing? 

Actually, a better question was why not. The thought had stuck in his mind, and he had nothing better to do- art block and all- so. Remus tossed his sketchbook to the side and twisted up to look at Patton.

“Why do you do that?”

Patton glanced down at him. “Do what?”

Remus reached up, prying Patton’s hands out of his hair and holding them up like evidence. Patton blinked at them, and okay, cute- but he looked genuinely surprised by the question. 

“Oh, playing with your hair? I mean, there’s no real reason, I guess it’s just mindless. Something to fidget with, y’know? It’s always all tangled up, too, so it’s like a little puzzle- a puzzle I probably won’t solve all the way ever, but that’s most puzzles with me to be honest,” he smiled brightly, creasing all his laugh lines just right. “Also, um, it feels nice that I get to stay touching you, even if it’s just something small,” he shrugged, sort of sheepishly. “Is that weird?”

But Remus was beaming up at him, definitely looking all sorts of stupid for it, and definitely not caring. He dropped Patton’s hands, letting them find their way back into his coils and matts of hair. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sugar Cookie, but you can keep messing with my hair all you want. It probably is weird, in that case, because I like that you have your hands on me so much-” Jesus Christ it was so hard not to make a sex joke, Remus had to stifle several from breaking his train of thought. Ugh, the things he did for this man. “-And if I like something, it’s 100% freaky!”

Patton just laughed, his nose scrunching up while he ruffled Remus’ hair. 

“That’s- that’s good to know,” an index finger coiled around silver strands, and Patton’s eyes sparkled in the most literal sense, “Hey, Remus?”

Remus let his head rest on the side’s thigh, humming attentively. 

“When you say I can mess with it…”

He looked up with a delightful anticipation, grinning before Patton had even finished his sentence. 

“Can I braid your hair?” The question accompanied by a faint tug at Remus’ scalp, and the feeling of several tangles coming undone, “I’m pretty good at it. Virgil used to let me do his- not so much anymore, but, um. Anyway, yours would be long enough- or maybe longer, if I got these knots out,” he smiled, kindly, “But I know you like having it knotty, so it’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

Remus thought it over, because yeah, he was very proud of his rat’s nest. Besides, he was sure that even if it got straightened out, it’d still be just as greasy as ever- ohh, but that could be a look all on its own, couldn’t it? Maybe he could even weave some garbage into the plait! 

“Sure!” Remus assented, “The rest of me’s naughty enough to make up for the hairdo, so have at ‘er.”

Patton snorted at the pun, obviously excited to get started. When he ushered Remus to turn around, his hands easily undoing clumps of hair with surprising focus, humming to himself all the while, Remus was absolutely certain he’d made the right choice.

It was done in an hour- Patton was slow and careful about every movement. Remus didn’t really mind, though he’d try to assure Patton that it was fine to do it in a hurry, that he wasn’t so sensitive. (Patton didn’t, obviously, ignoring Remus’ comments about how it didn’t even matter because they weren’t real, and pain was a construct. Patton was stubbornly gentle, to the point that Remus couldn’t be annoyed by it. He might even say it was sweet, if he was feeling particularly sappy.)

It had also taken such time because of the decorations Patton had woven into his hair, which he insisted would be surprises. So Remus was bouncing with excitement all the way to the mirror- cuz even though he was sure it wouldn’t be anything like the live bugs, weeds, and dead flowers that he’d had in mind to thread in there himself, he knew it’d at least be pretty. Pretty wasn’t really his thing, sure, but Patton’s brand of pretty? It had grown on him.

The mirror in Remus’ room was chipped, slick with grime, and filled with silhouettes that vanished as soon as you turned around, but it worked just fine. Remus hauled himself over to it, peered in, and okay, he definitely didn’t mind a little bit of pretty.

“You weren’t fucking around when you said you were good at this, Morey!”

In their reflections, Remus saw Patton smile, going a bit pink around the ears. He glanced back to himself, eyes trailing appreciatively down the shoulder-length braid of dark, greasy hair. His grey streak wasn’t twisted in with the rest of the locks, instead it had been left out in front, springy and curly and giving the whole look a messier vibe. The braid itself seemed inky-slick, shot through with glittering hair clips and pins. At first, they looked like plain plastic jewels, but with closer inspection the shapes of tiny beetles, bugs, and moths were unmistakable. They were gorgeous, and probably a better call than putting actual live bugs in his hair; he was less likely to end up eating the sparkly clips, at any rate.

But if all that wasn’t enough, then there were the ribbons. Whip-thin and several in number, they sparkled with enough course glitter to impress a Las Vegas body paint artist. Some were a pukey neon green, and the rest a light, bright-

“Blue?”

Patton met Remus’ eyes, through the mirror again, and the pink slowly traveled from his ears down to his face. He shrugged, grazing the blue-and-green bow where the braid was tied off with the tips of his fingers. 

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he smiled lightly, “I thought it looked nice, with the green.”

Remus looked away from the glass, “You’re not wrong about that,” he muttered.

Patton shrugged, not quite making his eyes. 

“You can take those ones out, if you want to.”

That- the way Patton went flustered and shy and he’d put his colors on Remus- it gave the Duke a very strong urge to do something. The urge pulled at his chest, feeling like cracked ribs in the best way, and it really wasn’t fucking around when it wrapped around his heart and squeezed so tight it felt like it was forcing all the blood right out of him. 

Remus was used to impulses, and the powerful, mind-halting swells of emotion, but this was new and fun and it had jumped out of nowhere even for him. He was staring at Patton, and he had the urge to do something. He would’ve done it, too, if only he knew what the fuck it was that he wanted. 

It had to do with Patton. He should start there, probably.

“I’m gonna keep them in, duh,” Remus replied, finally, and his voice was way louder than it needed to be, “Wouldn’t wanna fuck up the look.” 

Patton glanced at him, smiling self-consciously, and his hand lowered from Remus’ hair to rest on his shoulder. For a moment Remus felt blind, vision white-out and trouble breathing, from whatever the fuck he was feeling, and he just didn’t know what to do.

Then Patton laughed, his ocean eyes squinted, and the burning impulse plummeted to an ache. A giddy, unfamiliar kind of ache. A manageable ache. 

Remus resolved to forget it. He had lots of instincts, and urges, and God knew that not even half of them made sense. It had left, that was what mattered, and he could enjoy the rest of his day with his friend.

He’d never been the type to worry, anyway.

There were days that Patton just… couldn’t make it out of bed. He tried, he really did, but he could only go for so long before it all started crumbling. He’d wake up, and something would just feel wrong, and he’d know that it was a doomed day, but he still made the stubborn effort to save it. Because each time he thought, maybe he’d beat it, maybe he’d make the best of it- and sometimes he did, but most of the time he made it as far as breakfast, and then he was right back in his room by noon to let the depressive episode take over.

So yeah. It was one of Those Days. 

Patton laid in bed, propped up on pillows and stuffed animals with his unfocused eyes staring just above the television. Bad days had been getting rare, and naively, Patton had thought that meant it was over for good. When he woke up that morning, Remus barely stirring beside him, the empty feeling inside was almost ignorable. 

He’d stayed above it for all of two-and-a-half hours before retreating to his room again, this time on his own.

Patton was always alone when he got in one of his moods, and he knew it was better that way. He was no fun at all, just a sad sack of blah, and he knew just how intolerable he ended up being. He couldn’t even tolerate himself.

So each time Patton would tell the other sides that he needed some space alone, and of course they respected that. Roman always hugged him before he left. Virgil checked on him every now and then. Logan, without fail, sent him extra plushies (and sweet snacks, however much he disapproved of unhealthy eating, because he knew how much sugar cheered Patton up). It didn’t fix the ache, but it helped, knowing that people were worried about him. 

But, back to that particular day; the day that left Patton huddled up at the head of his bed with blank, glazed-over eyes; the first day of its kind since Remus had been staying with him. 

It had gotten… harder, somehow. The fact that it had been gone for so long, and he’d been so optimistic, but now it was all back… 

Patton buried his face in the soft fabric of a teddy bear, shaking and crying and feeling so, so, cold.

It went on for a few horrible, horrible minutes, and then there were noises that definitely weren’t sobs. Down the hall; the slamming of a door, followed by distant muttering, and then excited footsteps. Heavy, clunky footsteps. Sounds that brought back acute deja vu, and had Patton glancing up just in time to realize what was about to happen. 

His door swung open, and Remus was grinning at him from the entrance. Patton struggled to put on a smile in time, scrubbing frantically at his eyes. 

“Hey! It’s, like, two o’clock, are you ready?”

Patton blinked up at him, partially in confusion, partially to try and stop the flow of tears. “Ready…?” 

Remus’ face fell a little, and he came forwards into the room. 

“Yeah…” Remus shut the door behind him- with less force than usual- and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. He stared intently at Patton, frown deepening all the while, pupils flitting around as he seemed to take in every detail of his friend’s condition. Patton wanted to squirm. “We were gonna- are you okay?” 

He stared dumbly at Remus for a second more, and then it clicked: they had plans today. He could barely remember what they were supposed to do- they’d been talking so quick, so excited, so happy- but Patton was pretty sure it had to do with a new creation of Remus’. 

Which was… something he definitely, definitely didn’t have the energy for. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Patton sat up straight, trying desperately to stop trembling, “I completely forgot, I just- um- I don’t know if I can make it today.”

That sounded bad, didn’t it? Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of the cake, if he hurt Remus’ feelings just because he was wallowing for basically no reason. It probably wouldn’t even be that bad if he sucked it up and went along with it anyway- except Janus kept insisting how bad self-sacrifice was, but- what else was he supposed to do!?

“Oh, it’s okay,” Remus said, not sounding hurt at all. “I’d be more pissed if I thought you were just bailing, and I know you don’t do that, Pat. Plus, you’re obviously upset, so don’t worry about it.”

  Patton glanced up to find him still staring, somehow more intense than before, and much closer than before. He looked- he looked worried. Not upset. Worried. 

“Oh,” Patton looked away again, unable to stand the scrutiny, “Okay.” 

A hand slipped into his, prying open his clenched fist, and he had to stifle a gasp at the touch. Temperature shock, that was the best word for it. Patton shivered. 

“Can I help you?”

Patton’s eyes went wide at the sweet sincerity in Remus’ voice, the way he said it as plainly and openly as he’d say anything else. Even if it wasn’t a big deal, really, with Patton’s emotions in the state that they were, while he was in his room of all places, anything could send him breaking down again.

“I- I don’t, um-” he blinked furiously, had done that a lot since Remus found him; it was beginning to make him feel dizzy. “Nothing’s really wrong…” 

Remus squeezed his hand. 

“Well, what isn’t really wrong?” 

“What?”

“You said nothing’s ‘really’ wrong, so, what’s wrong-but-not-really?”

Patton tipped his head to the side, for a moment more confused than he was aching. “How do you mean?”

But Remus just rolled his eyes- not unkindly- and shrugged. 

“So, you don’t know why you’re all… sad,” the emphasis made Patton wince, “But I figure that being sad at all usually makes other things wrong, too, and I can help with those things! For example-” he pitched forwards suddenly, ruby-reds wide and searching. He sniffed at Patton (probably not for any kind of actual inspection, but it made him laugh, and judging from Remus’ proud little smirk that had been on purpose.) “You had anything to eat? Or, uh, water? Those are supposed to be important.”

Oh, right. That. 

Patton leaned away, pulling his hand out of Remus’ grasp as he flushed abashedly. But he didn’t- well, he wasn’t going to lie to Remus.

“I guess I haven’t, no,” he tried to laugh it off- this didn’t have to be a thing, it didn’t have to be serious, if he kept laughing. If he got Remus to laugh.

But Remus was already standing, and that brought up another very effective solution; if Patton was being depressing, maybe he would just get sick of it and go. 

“Okay, we’ll start there! Wait here, I’ll be back in- ten minutes? Sure, that’s how long it takes to make food,” Remus was muttering half to himself, but it sure as heck didn’t sound like leaving.

“Oh, you don’t have to get me anything!” Patton insisted, because if Remus wasn’t escaping yet, then he wasn’t going to mooch off of his generosity. “Thanks for the reminder, I’ll- I’ll make sure to grab something soon.”

Remus stopped by the door, tipped his head from one side to the other, pretending to think it over.

“Hm. Nah.”

Patton tried to stand, and found that he was somehow too weak for even that much.

“Remus, please, I- I can’t even eat the same stuff as you, anyway! Don’t go through all that trouble for little old me,” he was edging on frantic, and he didn’t know why he was fighting so hard against receiving needed help, but it probably had something to do with Catholicism. 

Remus looked completely bewildered- a funny look, for him- and said:

“I mean, I wasn’t about to feed you hygiene products, or ceramic, or whatever. I know that I eat weird shit, Pat, that’s kind of the point- but I still know how to make a sandwich? And I know how to hold a cup under the sink so that water goes in it?” 

His voice took on a gently mocking tone. Patton glanced away, sheepish, and couldn’t find a response to that beyond a short nod.

Which was all Remus needed as the go-ahead, darting out of the room and down the stairs before Patton could argue any further. 

Patton stared after him, listened to him bustling around downstairs, and tried to feel comforted. He fell back against his pillows, breathing slow and concentrated. He was still shaking, with his previous exhaustion coming back full force. Some of the light-headedness, certainly, had to be due to the lack of eating, but he was unfortunately sure that it wasn’t even the half of it.

Patton was conflicted: He had to tell Remus that he was okay, as soon as he returned. Say thanks for the food, that it had helped, and they could spend time together tomorrow, Patton would promise. Get Remus away before it got bad, before the dam he’d built so carefully behind his eyes fell and the blue of them spilled out for hours. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie about his feelings- he knew it was bad for him, and he couldn’t keep doing it, not to someone’s face. Not somebody he cared about so much.

He wanted to let Remus stay, beg him to stay if he had to, just so he didn’t have to dig up all his long-buried emotions on his own. He wanted to pull him in and beg for help, even though he knew nothing had managed to help him before, and it was so futile. 

When the door opened some ten minutes later, Patton didn’t sit up. He didn’t even look up, scared he’d cry if he so much as moved his eyes in his own skull. 

“Hey.”

The sound of the door shutting, followed by those heavy footsteps. A soft thunk, presumably the plate of food being placed on his bedside table. Then the mattress dipped beside him, springs creaking. 

“Hey,” Remus said again, “Look at me.”

Patton rolled his head tentatively to the side. Remus was sitting with him, looking at him, his expression twisted up and solemn in all the worst ways. Patton felt the dam begin to crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I know, I know that I’m no fun when I’m like this, and we were supposed to have fun today, and I just can’t do it. I can’t, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, but if you stay here when I’m-” he broke, clamping a hand around his mouth as a sob wracked his body.. “When I’m like this, I’m just gonna ruin your day more.”

That sad look, the one that had no place being in Remus’ expression, sharpened and widened until he looked almost angry. He crawled over to Patton, prying the side’s hand away from his face and cupping his cheek, gently, all the while that scowl was in place. 

“Do you want me to go?”

Patton could barely speak, knowing that he’d just blubber and blubber, but Remus was holding him up by the shoulders and peering down at him so patiently, so carefully.

“I- I-”

“Do you want to be alone?”

He couldn’t- he couldn’t keep lying.

Patton sucked in a breath.

“No.”

Remus grinned at him proudly, pulling back until he was kneeling. He spread his arms out, an offering that Patton had become intimately familiar with. Patton pulled himself up, shaking, incredulous despite the familiarity of the situation.

“Then you don’t have to be.”

And Patton pitched forward, right into Remus’ arms, clutching and crying and trembling like a leaf.

Distantly, he knew that he was still babbling apologies. Insisting that the Duke could leave as soon as he wanted, that Patton felt this way so often and he knew he couldn’t possibly expect comfort every time, a million other sentences that ran over and into each other which only seemed to make Remus clutch him tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Remus told him.

“It’s- It’s not, I don’t even have a- a reason to be so-” a hiccup, “- upset. It’s not like last time, when you found me- I don’t even have a bad excuse, I’m just- just-”

“Shut the fuck up,” somehow, even that sounded caring. “Somebody as Hello Kitty Wholesome as you’s got no business saying such bad shit about himself.”

Patton tried to apologize again. 

“Easy, Sugar, I’ve got you.”

Patton shuddered.

“When it gets bad like this, just tell me, alright?” Remus’ hands traced up and down his spine, across his shoulder blades, down his sides, warm and full and adoring. The smile in his voice was audible, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And when Patton heard that, it was like a broken bone being set. Not fully mended, but held together enough that it could begin to heal the right way, of its own hard work, and come back twice as strong still. Remus held him so strong and it felt like a cast. 

Patton’s breakdowns were blurred memories at best, but he couldn’t have gotten that promise out of his head even if he wanted to. 

It was an achingly uneventful afternoon. Everything in the Mindpalace felt just a little out of focus, a little gray, and nothing much was going to change that except the day ending. Plain and simple, Thomas was Out Of It- and so, of course, were his sides.

On the whole it wasn’t a big deal, but it did make it downright impossible to finish any substantial work beyond menial, autopilot tasks. And creativity? Particularly for Remus, who more-or-less needed his human at full attention in order to have any creative power, it was totally hopeless. 

He wasn’t the kind of guy to work on half-power, to put it mildly. 

So, what did Remus do, when he had even less of an outlet than usual? It shouldn’t surprise you that the answer is literally anything, if it got people to pay attention to him and make him feel real again (which he wasn’t, actually, but let’s leave the semantics to Logan). What that usually amounted to- these days, at least- was talking, and talking, and more talking, and eventually somebody would probably react to something he said. Ideally. 

So on that particular gray-day, Remus sprawled himself out on the couch and waited for the first person who came by to trap in a very one-sided conversation. 

Said first person was Patton, as it happened, which was just Remus’ luck. He didn’t bother hiding how excited he was about it; Patton had always been his favorite target- of course, it was for a very, very different reason nowadays. 

Patton sat down with him as soon as he was waved over, propping a coloring book open on his knee and smiling warmly. His unoccupied hand went to wind through Remus’ hair, though, to make it abundantly obvious that despite his distraction he wasn’t ignoring the other.

Remus grinned at him, and started rambling immediately. 

And he- well, he wouldn’t really call it talking to himself, because he didn’t have a fucking clue what he was saying. But he wasn’t talking to Patton either, because that kinda defeats the purpose of a one-sided conversation. 

Which he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even listening to himself, he just needed to talk, and Patton wasn’t complaining. Remus was probably saying something unsavory, and still, there wasn’t any kind of flinching or interrupting. Patton even mhm’d and yeah’d every now and then, which was an entirely unnecessary reassurance. But Remus thought it was adorably considerate, and briefly entertained the idea of replacing that sweet little coloring book in Patton’s lap with his own self, to get some proper attention. 

(He would have, too, if he wasn’t so sure that he’d blurt out something very lewd in his stream-of-consciousness kind of mood, with a position like that, and he wasn’t sure if Patton could handle it at the moment. Morality always got a little out of whack on gray-days, too, so- loathe as Remus was to say it- better safe than sorry). 

Remus fell into the rhythm of it for, what, twenty minutes? He was bad with time, but- all he knew was he was thinking about Albert Fish, and talking about an entirely different serial killer out loud (Gacy? Bundy? It was definitely someone infamous), when the hand in his hair suddenly stilled. Patton wasn’t looking at him, either.

Remus glanced around, still talking, to find Logan standing in the kitchen doorway, staring expectantly at Patton. 

“I need you to accompany me outside for a moment. There’s something important that we-”

Patton cut him off with a wave, “Hang on for a second, Teach.” 

Logan obliged, looking bemused, and Patton turned his attention back to the still-tangenting Remus. Who was totally checked out, for the record. 

“Hey,” Patton rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly, “Pause?”

And Remus, surprised, did as asked. He didn’t care about what was going on around him, but he liked that smile, and the eyes focused in on him, so he sat up properly and tried to be quiet. Especially considering those were the first actual words Patton had said to him since he’d sat down. 

“I’m gonna go see what they need real quick,” Patton went on, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you can finish telling me about Dennis Rader then-” So that was who! “Kay?” 

Remus stared mutely at him for an embarrassing number of seconds. He eventually managed a short nod, some vague utterances of yeah, sure, go ahead, before Patton was out the door with Logan, and he was left reeling on the couch. 

Remus felt a little bit like worms had eaten holes in his brain like swiss cheese, leaving him airy-headed and dizzy. All his organs felt wormy, in fact- squirming and sick and excited about something that really shouldn’t have been a big deal- but! It was!!!

Cuz Patton had been listening? Remus wasn’t even listening! He was probably barely coherent, and he’d been at it for twenty fucking minutes, and- and-

God! He just wanted to grab that stupid adorable head of Patton’s and! He didn’t even know! Do Something, something disgusting in the nice way, something deplorably PG and lovey-dovey and- Ugh! 

Remus buried his face in his hands and groaned. He felt like a goddamn schoolgirl- and not the hentai kind, for a change, but the hopelessly infatuated, cutesy type. Feelings that were gushy, giddy, affectionately bloody. 

It was the straw that broke the camel's spine. Urges and instincts and wants that Remus hadn’t been able to name coalesced into a neon sign in his mind, flaring the answer like it’d been obvious the whole time:

Was it a crush? Remus didn’t know a better word for it, even if it wasn’t- he just knew that he was pining, and for somebody he was happy to call his friend either way. And, huh. Weird. He didn’t know he could do that. 

“I’m back, I’m back!” Patton came scrambling back into the room, jolting Remus out of his thoughts, “Sorry about that, it was- well, it’s not a big deal, something happened with The Memories and- it’s fine now- anyway, what were you saying?”

He was chattering fast, even by Remus’ Standards, an apologetic smile on his face as he sat down and settled all his attention on the Duke. 

Remus said: “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” and wondered if he’d always been that shrill? Or was he being too quiet? What did his voice sound like again?? “I, uh, I don’t remember what I was talking about.”

Patton frowned at him, and looked about ready to apologize again, and he couldn’t very well have that. So, he babbled:

“Right, it was Rader? Um. Yeah,” but that was so far out of his mind by that point, and how did people ever talk while saying things and thinking other things! “Not much to say, ya know. Killed some people, got arrested, the usual.”

“Since when don’t you give me the graphic details?” Patton complained, “That’s your favorite part!” 

“I think I’ll spare you the nightmares this time, Morey! It’s, uhm, it’s your turn to talk.” 

“Oh, hush,” and Patton laughed, shooting Remus an encouraging, coaxing smile that made him just want to debone himself. “Those serial killer stories you like so much aren’t the nightmare fuel they used to be. You know why?”

Remus felt like the inside of his skin was full of spikes. Not in a bad way. 

“...Why?” 

“Because,” Patton said, like he was all too eager to explain himself, “I can’t really be scared of them when the scariest thing is what’s in bed with me.”

Remus flushed. Like, actually-  heat crawled across his face and over his ears, and he honestly had no clue the last time something or someone had made him blush. But Patton, acknowledging his scare-factor while somehow making it obvious he felt only safe with him, was apparently what ticked that box. 

“Right,” chirped Remus, “That’s- me!”

“Of course it is, Silly,” Patton bumped their shoulders together, smiling like he had no idea what he was doing- and to be honest, he probably didn’t.

Remus drank in the contact, happily using it as an excuse to wrap his arms around Patton and pull him closer. He buried his face in Patton’s shoulder, because as far as his impulses told him, he should either get the fuck away A.S.A.P. or drag Patton in as close as possible and not let go. Obviously, Remus had a preference. 

“You- uh- I was being serious though,” ugh, God, stuttering was so goddamn annoying- how did Virgil cope? “You should talk. I’m- I’m sorta overwhelmed.”

That was the truth, or part of it. Admitting it out loud at least managed to take some of the power out of it.

Patton immediately cooed at him- it should have been annoying; it wasn’t- and wrapped him up in his arms properly, muttering little of courses and do you need anything?s. Remus melted into him, finally claiming that spot in his lap (and any jokes his mind might have had about that were long gone, by then), shaking his head and glowing under the attention. 

Of course Patton was happy- after making sure that Remus was alright- to do some of the talking. He talked about his day, what he wanted to do later, or tomorrow, and of cute things that he’d seen, and a hundred other inconsequential Patton-isms. 

Remus was unused to sitting and listening, but with him… it wasn’t as bad as the Duke remembered it being. 

Oh, he was so fucking fucked. 

Chapter Nine

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @donnieluvsthings @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @thefivecalls

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 8: A Sour Deal

After a full day of preparation, training and anything that shouldn't take less than 24 hours to do, the "Dionysian Games" were ready as soon as the sun rose. Which is when Apollo discovered, his brother was at it again.

Apollo rode his chariot arcross the sky, toting the sun along for the day to begin. To him it was just part of his daily schedule, as he glanced over, looking down on Delphi. "Wait a minute....isn't it early in the year for the games to start?", the thought stewed in his head for only a few seconds when it suddenly dawned on him the Olypmic games, in deed DID NOT, take place in Delphi. He looked down and was shocked to see that Dionysus broke his promise, "as soon as I'm done with the sun, I'm going to give Dionysus the dressing down of the millennia!", he angrily told himself.

Back in Delphi, the Delphians were preparing for the games. The teams have been set up into 5 large groups, in Delphian fashion, no can tell which team is which. Being a mock-Olympics game, there was nothing to worry about representing a country or anything, so it was just harmless fun. There was no prizes outside of bragging rights.

Meanwhile, Dionysus attempts to get a hold of Ares for the joust. Communication between the gods was always complicated considering that the gods communicate better humans than they do themselves. In Dionysus's case, the best way to get in touch with Ares...was to get him to come to you via the most complex ritual involving two of his favorite things: Aphrodite and dogs. He knows for the best results, he had to do the ritual in private.

Dionysus prepares the ritual at an effigy made to resemble Ares he had created the night before. As it turns out he woke up in morning remembering that he hadn't even talked to Ares about the joust. Using a small puppy he borrowed from one of the farmers and a plate of extra rare steaks, lights some candles and places a sensual picture of Aphrodite. ".....Come on Ares. Come out.", Dionysus spoke to the effigy, he waited a few seconds for anything to happen but nothing did. "Oooookie dokie, I'm just going to "enjoy" myself with this really sexy picture of Aphrodite", Dionysus taunted the effigy hoping it would get his attention. He takes the picture of Aphrodite and slowly hovers it near his groan, as he was about to even let the picture touch, the loud thunderous sound of an explosion echos outside of his winery shed. "Aaaaaand just in time." he grinned from ear to ear, now with the star of his joust just outside his door, he could finally get the event going. He walks to the door, opens it and sees Ares nearly towering over him with the biggest frown he's given so far.

Ares quickly gabbed the photo from Dionysus. "Ok you fat fuck what do you want?" He growled. He looked behind Dionysus to see the crudly made effigy, pushed him aside to at least eat some steak and make sure the dog was ok.

Dionysus didn't expect much from Ares outside of agreeing to joust. "So buddy, ugh I was wondering....you don't having any plans this afternoon do you?" Dionysus nonchalantly asked. He turned to see Ares chewing on the steak with his bear hands while sharing his steak with the puppy. "I know you're ugh.... busy man....but I know you're going to.love this." He continued.

Ares wasn't much for Dionysus's brand of fun unless it resulted in copious amounts of bloodshed. In fact, most of the time when he would come to Dionysus, it was mostly to get wine or get drunk before certain battles. He was skeptical, but than again there really wasn't any current wars he could participate. It had seemed the entire country was focused on other matters, so indeed he was very much bored. "Wut is it?" He spoke with a full mouth.

Dionysus grinned, "well... would you like to joust with me? For my little 'games'? I mean, I know it isn't much....buuuuuut the people will love it."

Ares was interested but not convinced yet. A joust wasn't going to satisfy him enough, there had to be more to it. "Ok....what's in it-", he swallows his mouthful of steak,"- for me?", He asked as took another bite of meat, giving a little piece to the puppy again.

Scratching his head at what could Ares possibly want, "well...I know that if I win...I just win. After all, the audience likes it when the local god wins right?", Dionysus bargained. "I mean, it's not much but that all depends on what you want, big guy.", he knew Ares wouldn't be creative enough to want something outside of anything material or in some cases bragging rights.

Ares paused to think of the best way to painful screw Dionysus over. He thought of how Dionysus prided himself for his wine, but what was a god of wine going to do with wine. He remembered Dionysus's love for his big cats, he could always get Dionysus to kill his precious leopards, but no....he wants something far more precious. "How about this...." he lightly scratched the puppy behind it's ears, "...if I win, I get to be the local god and keep Delphi, you stand down...aaaaaand I fuck your wife.", he said through a menacing smile.

The mischievous grin that Dionysus sported had died into a panicked look, "wait wait hold on man, this is for fun." he responded hastily. Never would he have expected Ares to actually name such conditions. "Seriously, you can't just take my town and my wife if you win, that's....just fucked up....plus NO, I refuse to agree to those terms.....", Dionysus was flustered, what started out as an innocent challenge between brother quickly escalated into something a little more mean spirited.

Ares stood there looking at Dionysus, mildly disappointed that he wouldn't agree to what he believed was completely reasonable terms, "ok whatever drama queen, than I'm leaving.", he walked out of the shed. "Fucking wasting my time with your little circus act and shit. I mean I thought you liked having fun, whatever I guess you're too much of a pussy." he continued.

As much as the ownership of Delphi, the safety of the residents and his wife's honor was at stake, he couldn't just let Ares walk out from the joust. He didn't care about why or what Ares thought of him in the second, he was already too deep into the situation given not only he was not allowed to sleep in his own bed until after the Dionysia, but he disappointed Ariadne with his stubborn attitude. "Hold on, ok if you're going to play "Mr.Edgelord", than if I win......I become the new god of war aaaaaand...you have to wear a dress....for an hour and I will NEVER let anyone forget that", unlike the rest of the brothers, Ares was too prideful of his masculinity to ever wear a dress and the idea of his title as "The God of War" would also be a stake. This was too juicy of a bet. Dionysus's whole world was either going to include the chaotic attributes of war....or he was going to lose everything.

In mid-step, Ares turned around, his button has definitely been pushed, but the challenge was too irresistible. "Now you're talking fun.". He walked up to Dionysus, took his arm and gave it a sportsmen's shake. "Fine, I'll join your little circus. When...and where?", he stared down Dionysus hoping to throw him off even before the joust.

Dionysus wasn't really sure what Ares was doing and why was he staring at him for so long, but now he had to put up some effort in the joust, perfect for a performance. "Ha, you're on...just ugh go over there in the meantime...chill...I don't know it will be hours before we do it.", he informed. He pointed at tent in a field that was overlooked by the winery shed, it was prepared for the participants of the games, which was loaded with all the essentials any Dionysian needed.

Glaring at the overly lavished tent on the field, then his glance glazes over the rest of the field, it really was a bit like a circus. Ares takes a deep breath, rethinking if it would be worth winning given he will have to wait for a few hours before the joust, than be remembers he gets to turn this land into a training ground for an army fit for a king. "Ok.....do...you have anything I can do?", he asked.

He looked at Ares and said in a serious tone, "if you're planning on lifting bro, you're shit out of luck....you can....drink, you can.....fuck.....you can......eat.....you can take naps.....some of the folks are doing improv....I mean THATS something you do....I don't know. Just....relax or something.", Dionysus knew nothing worsened Ares's mood then a lack of exercise and anything he liked. "Aaaalso there is only wine.", he added. If Ares was going to be serious about his wager, he needed to insure that Ares was going to lose.

"Dude...that's ..... fucking lame.....I'm just going to take laps, can't wait to fuck your wife.", Ares left without saying another word. Dionysus was a bit floored, but the day was young and there was plenty of time to make sure he would win the joust. He was about to run to find some of his more "violent" maenads when he heard someone shout his name from the field.

"DIONYSUS YOU ARE NOT GOING TO FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!", it was Hermes, he ran through the field, up the hill passing Ares (who apparently didn't even notice him) and right up to Dionysus. "Ok holyshit you're never going to guess what me and Artemis found a few days ago! I was going to tell you about it but I had to find dad and I can't find him than I had to run around Greece looking for him an-" he felt Dionysus placing his hand on his head in attempts to calm him down.

Dionysus unfortunately wasn't in the mood to hear Hermes, but he was in the mood to ask him for help. "Hermes.......I've made a horrible miscalculation.", he told him, looking at Ares angrily uses a log to do bench presses. ".....I got what I wanted...but my....fucking self....I am in quite a pickle.".

Hermes was still processing all he has been doing the past four days, but somehow he had to know what happened. ".....what....are you talking about?", he calmly asked. He looked at the field, than looked at Ares, than he looked at Dionysus. "Why is there a circus in front of your house?", he can see Dionysus's face.

Taking a deep breath, "Hermes do you remember that time I joked about the idea of me and Ares.... jousting or something?", Dionysus asked.

"ugh....yes I think.", Hermes was now starting to worry if there is something even worse than semi-immortal wolf people. "But seriously man there's some weird fucked up things happening.", he continued.

Dionysus chuckled a little, "well....I hope you're ok with cheating. I really need your help.", he looked at Hermes in hopes he knows he serious. Hermes however, whom just arrived, is getting a terrible feeling there will be hijinks.

End of Chp8

[shinebrightlikeamalcolm]

Reader telling Malcolm shes pregnante 💖

You had every piece of evidence in a bag, and it was going in the picnic basket you were making up for your scheduled afternoon date in Central Park. The team had given you an actual evidence bag, because if you couldn’t laugh about this sort of thing, well, you might just break down in fear.

You wanted a pretty place to tell him, something special, but nothing too elaborate or too public in case of the potential subsequent meltdown. You had Gil, Jessica, pretty much everyone on standby, and a radio for communication if things went well for his family to come in and celebrate….or in case things went horribly wrong. Jessica’s driver would be on the scene in case he ran. Gil’s was there in case he needed to get away with a father figure. Various types of alcohol were being packed in case he needed a drink, and she had his fast acting anxiety pills as a back up. As a group, they’d thought of everything.

Operation Baby Heist (it was JT’s idea) was in full effect.

You knew he’d fight it. You knew him that well. Each piece of evidence saying you were pregnant wouldn’t be enough to convince him on its own. Your weapons of choice were a photo of your last period cycle in your tracking app,  three sanitized and capped off pregnancy tests, of different brands (because science? More variables drawing the same conclusion would help), a urine analysis test result, a blood test result, paperwork with an estimated due date (you’d even waited past the normal safety window to make sure things were even more solid and set in stone) and finally, a sonogram with “Hi, Dad!” typed up on it, and to make it even more clear, an arrow pointed to the little splotch that was in fact, a baby. Your baby…and Malcolm’s.

Evidence bag on hand, Malcolm Bright wouldn’t be able to deny he was going to be a father

You called Gil and said you were on your way, and Gil said Malcolm had just left the precinct. He was not having the best day; hand tremors had been noticed and he seemed tired, as usual. Damn. You’d hoped for better conditions. But you said to carry on, as you walked down the stairs to Jessica’s waiting car, and the grandmother and aunt to be waiting there. Jessica was already drinking.

“Mom, calm down, it’s going to be fine,” Ainsley encouraged, the tone of her voice suggesting this was probably the tenth time she’d said it. Jessica waved her off.

“It’ll be fine eventually, but today? Oh we’ll see. You know your brother…”

“Hi, mom to be here…” You interrupted, waving a bit, and the conversation on hand not helping your nerves.

“Of course, sorry (y/n),” Jessica said, taking a deep breath. “I’m just,” her hand was in the air making dramatic gestures, “so worried about him.” You nod slowly, a hand resting on your tiny little bump. It honestly just looked like you were bloated right now.. But you knew it was there; a piece of Malcolm, a piece of you, mixed together with a little bit of oversight and some unprotected sex. You weren’t married, and originally you thought that would be a big cause for concern. But Jessica could care less; that wasn’t a scandal anymore, and it was a blip in the eye of the Whitly family’s story. 

“God, and his genetics! What if it’s a boy? What if it looks like him!” You heard as Jessica kept drinking, and you take a deep, shaky breath.

“All the things I’ve wondered about too…” You confess and God almighty you wished you could drink. Because you loved Malcolm with all you had, but you wondered sometimes about the legacy you carried.

“Mom, be helpful or get out of the car,” Ainsley hissed, always a buffer, and you were especially grateful for her. Your focus needed to be on Malcolm, not his mother. “This is good news, and (y/n) and Malcolm are going to be amazing parents, and I am going to be an amazing aunt. And you’ll be a semi decent grandmother,” Ainsley joked, trying to relax everyone as they arrived at a drop off point at Central Park.

They all got out of the car and walked through the park together towards the designated spot for the picnic. Malcolm was walking, they had the advantage of timing. The team had snuck from the precinct and were driving over too. It was going to be a challenge, all of them hiding from Malcolm, and you hiding any motives from your profiler boyfriend. 

When you got there, Ainsley and Jessica were the first to sneak off, cell phones on them, plus a radio. Gil helped you set up the picnic, and told you good luck as Dani and JT scoped out a good hiding spot, away from the direction Malcolm would be heading. And then, you were by yourself, waiting. The red wine looked so so so tempting. But you stayed away from it.

The breeze is perfect, the temperature just right. The area wasn’t super crowded right, and only a few tourists were in sight. Everyone else was just a local minding their own business. You eye the brie and especially the fresh grapes; they sound extra good to you right now, and you pluck a few. You bite into them and the juice and texture taste delicious to you. Your cravings so far had been reasonable and unsuspicious. If anything, the thing you’ve craved more lately, was Malcolm. Your sex drive had been through the roof, and you’d begged more and more for him, and to stay in his bed, even though you had a spare bed across from his in the open floor plan. But you’d just wanted to sleep beside him….

For an impressive former FBI profiler, he still suspected nothing. Too many thoughts, too many memories and terrors had kept him blind to what was happening in front of him. And you didn’t blame him; it meant you got to, hopefully, happily surprise him. 

“He’s getting close,” you hear Gil say on the radio, interrupting your thoughts. You thank him, and turn the sound off, and hide the radio as you lead back on your hands, enjoying the weather, and trying to calm down your racing heart.

But it doesn’t calm; it races all the more in joyous anticipation as you finally see Malcolm and wave him over. You see the little smile on his face at the picnic you’ve set up, and watch him hide his hands in his jacket pocket as he walked to you. 

You felt the light little flutters deep in your core, like soft butterfly wings inside you, and you smile even more. Every instinct as old as time makes you crave wanting to touch your lower abdomen softly at the feeling of the flutters, but you can’t. Not yet. 

You barely hear him say hello, but you feel Malcolm’s soft kiss in greeting, and you wished you’d chosen someplace private. With the soft little butterfly wings moving inside you, and his gentle smile, his cologne, and that kiss, you were already flush, and your breasts, already more sensitive, were aching at the brief contact from his chest against yours. 

You shake the fuzzy feeling from your head as you both start to eat, and pass various cheeses and breads back and forth to each other, and he tells you how nice this was. His hands are shaking, and you ask him what’s happened. You want the air clear before you tell him. You don’t want murder or Martin Whitly on his mind when you tell him. 

“Another memory…don’t worry about it now.” You examine him closer, and sigh.  

“You went and saw him today…didn’t you?” There’s no anger in your voice. It’s disappointment. Of all days, why today? Martin was fully occupying his mind right now. And part of you wants to call it all off. 

But the baby was coming, regardless of Martin Whitly’s presence in their life or not. So you fight against the fuzzy feeling in your head distracting you from the task at hand, and taking Malcolm’s shaky hands in your own, massaging them gently. Sometimes it helped. The anticipation in you was making you feel almost sick. It was now or never, but as you open your mouth, he does the job for you. He reaches for the wine and pours himself a glass. Your body is warm and you can feel the anxious excitement coursing through every fiber of your being. 

“Do you want some?” He asks. You smile slightly, and your own hands begin to shake. 

“I’d love to…but I can’t drink.” He’s already pouring you a glass, never expecting a no. But he quickly stops and frowns and looks up at you. 

“You’re stopping drinking? You don’t drink that much (y/n), I think you’re ok…” 

“No, Malcolm…I mean…I can’t drink.” You smile softly at him, leaning your head in just a little, urging for him to get it. 

The bottle fell from his hand, red wine pouring onto the grass. His eyes were wide, brows lifted, and his mouth had parted in shock. “You can’t be -” 

“Malcolm, I’m pregnant.” You finally say. 

“You can’t be…we’ve been careful!” You can’t help but laugh at the statement. 

“Not careful enough!” You knew he wasn’t going to believe you, so you pulled out the very literal evidence bag, and his eyes go even wider as you hand it all to him. 

“Three tests -” 

“Can be in conclusive….” He said as he opened the bag. 

“Urine test at my GYN’s…” 

“Still not a guarantee…” 

“Blood test, due date, and a sonogram…” You finish with a sigh before he can interrupt you again, as he looked through at everything. He ignores the pregnancy tests, and even the test results. What he picks up is the due date. 

“You’re…you’re almost three months along…” He says quietly, and it seemed like acceptance, but also like disappointment. You nod slowly. 

“Yes, I’m almost done my first trimester.” You say as you watch his face. The initial panic as changed to worry. “I’ve been taking all necessary medicine, seeing my doctor, I promise…the baby is healthy, and so am I. We’re both ok.” 

“How did I miss this?” The self-loathing was dripping off his words as he clutched the sonogram. 

“It’s ok…you’re not the one carrying a baby.” You reach out to touch his hand but he pulled away. It makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. You just wanted him to be happy with the news, but you’d known that was a long shot.He still hadn’t run, and that was a good sign, but it was the bare minimum. Gil sticks his head out from a tree, and you try to casually gesture with your hand for him to go back. Fuck. 

“No it’s not ok! I should have known sooner, I should have…” You lifted your eyebrows, curious where this was going. “I should have been taking care of you.” And you burst out laughing again. 

“Malcolm, it’s not your job to take care of me, the same way it’s not my job to take care of you. We watch our for and care for each other….” 

“(Y/n) I can’t be a dad.” He finally blurts out and you know your face looks crest-fallen by the subsequent look on his. He’s hurt you, and it’s the last thing he wants to do. “I can’t even take care of myself properly, let alone a kid! I can’t put the burden of who I am, of who…of who he is…on a little baby.” 

“Well, you are going to be a dad Malcolm,” more panic has set on his face as he looks back at the sonogram. And you pull out the words you didn’t want to say, but had planned for just in case. “Look…I’m keeping it. You know I wanted to be a mom. I love you so much Malcolm, but I can, and will do it without you if you don’t want to be involved, or if it’s too much for you….I….I would understand.” Tears are forming in the back of your eyes, and your vision clouds. You blink them away. You’d always thought this could be a possibility; that he would leave, that you’d be on your own and he couldn’t do this. But it’s the last thing you wanted; you loved this man so desperately. He says nothing and you continue, your voice struggling not to crack.

“I know who you are, I know your family, I even went to meet your dad. I know who he is, I researched what he’s done, so I could understand. I’ve been to therapy with you, and to doctors appointments with you. I’ve watched you change your medications, and try to sleep. I’ve seen your night terrors. And I know your father wasn’t there for you, I know he ruined your childhood, but he doesn’t have to ruin this. You can be better than him Malcolm…I know you’re better than him! This…this baby won’t be a Whitly, it’ll be a Bright.” 

One tear escapes without permission, and his face crumbles. He reaches out and hugs you tight, the sonogram still in his hand as he holds you tight. You said the right words, the words he needed to hear; your unwavering faith in him. And he can’t stand to see you cry, especially when he knows he’s the cause. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry (y/n), I’m just…” 

“Scared, I know…me too, I’m scared too Malcolm. And I know, it’s a shock, it’s a surprise…” He was crying too, tears filling his eyes, but…he was smiling. 

“It’s a good surprise…it’s…it’s an incredible surprise,” he said holding you closer. 

“You’re going to be a dad,” You beam up at him as he holds you and he hugs you back, and he’s still clutching to the sonogram like it’s a lifeline. 

“I’m going to be a dad…” He finally says, and he kisses you softly, smiling softly in the kiss. You were his strength and his hope; as long as he had you, he knew he could do this. “We’re going to be parents…” 

“A family,” You tell him, and as you do, you lift up the radio and tell everyone to come in, and then Malcolm saw the rest of his family running to them in a bigger surprise; Jessica, Ainsley, Gil, Dani, JT…his real family. They were all here, and running towards the pair to embrace them. Malcolm held his mother first, in a tight and reassuring embrace from her. Then he hugged Ainsley, and then, Gil, who whispered to him he was going to be an amazing father. 

The group hug that followed was nothing he’d ever expected, and just what he needed, and you can’t help but watch him, and finally you touch your tiny bump. You’re so loved, you think to the tiny life there. You’re so loved. You’re going to have a family, but you and Malcolm both had one all along. 

[honeyhenry]

Brother Bubba

this was my first piece of writing so I'm extremely nervous posting! pls be kind if offering any feedback. also this took way longer to write than I intended so I’m sorry if anyone has been waiting for it! 

word count: 2k+

warnings: pregnant!reader, lots of fluff, copious amounts of Dodger Evans

enjoy!

Chris sighs as he pulls the large BMW into the driveway. He had of course, ensured that the journey from the hospital was cautious and careful - completely different from the journey taken from home to the hospital only 2 days ago. In his defence, you had yelled at him, telling him to “step on it, I refuse to have this baby in a car Chris I swear!!” 

So this time, on the journey back to the large 5-bedroom house, he stays vigilant despite being away for most of the last 48 hours, wary of every turn on the drive home, holding the most precious cargo that at one point he could only possibly dream of. His wife and newborn son. 

His family.

For the majority of his career, Chris had been known as one of America’s finest bachelors. Sure, he had friends to hang out with, and a schedule that led to a series of relationships burning out, or indeed them lighting his house on fire with him trapped inside. Metaphorically, of course. And so it had been just him, until one life changing moment a few years ago. Suddenly, it wasn’t just him, anymore. 

Because then came Dodger.

Chris’ best friend in the whole world and someone who he could rely on for company, loyalty, and comfort. Chris wanted the whole “picket fence” life, and had thought that he may as well be a step ahead with adopting a fun energetic dog. There had been an instantaneous love and trust between the two, and so Chris reckoned that anyone who he wanted to keep in his life for the long-term, had to pass the Dodger test. Anything less than love and respect shown by and towards the sweet dog, was a small but still quite blaring red flag. 

But Dodger had taken to you, almost instantly in fact. He saw you as wholesome and trustworthy, even when Chris himself was still working out what your relationship was blossoming into. Whether Dodger’s adoration of you was due to your character,  or the fact that you always loved to sneak him some treats whenever his owner wasn’t looking, Chris couldn’t be sure. But he was glad of Dodger’s approval even during the awkward “what exactly are we?” stage in the beginning.

It was safe to say that the pup had in fact deduced your character, as even though the treats had eventually been halted - ”Y/N, he’s getting a bit of a belly and we’re running low on treats” - Dodger made sure to have a toy or pillow just to give to you when you started going round to Chris’ place more. You were so good to Chris - you made him question if he’d ever fully lived before meeting you, and so Dodger didn’t mind that he was kept out of his owner’s room every now and then. As long as it was made up for in the morning with snuggles that Dodger knew he could get from you. Whenever Chris would leave to go to the bathroom, he’d come back to find that you’d let Dodger in to cuddle and pet him.

“You’re gonna replace me with Dodge, Y/N? Really? My own mutt?” he’d ask, mock hurt while you giggled from between the sheets, stroking Dodger’s soft fur. 

“Well it’s hardly my fault you Evans boys are so whiny for cuddles”

And so, after two happy, loving years spent with Chris and his closest buddy, navigating through this new life you’d created together, Chris knew you were the one.

He’d have told Dodger the proposal plans, alongside a couple of your and his own family members.

“S’not just gonna be you and me anymore bubba; but that’s a good thing I promise. Gonna make sure you have lots of friends to play with though, a bigger house and a bigger yard to run around in. Mom and I are gonna be forever bubba, and you’re always in the picture, i promise.”

And he fully kept his promise, only delighted to do so when you cried and said yes as he had got down on one knee. The wedding was held a year on from that night he proposed, and only a month following your honeymoon, you found out that Dodger would have a little friend to play with after all.

During your pregnancy, Dodger was incredibly protective of you. Sometimes not even Chris was allowed past Dodger, particularly after a day at work when he’d been working and ended up smelling or looking different to his normal dusky scent and fresh face. Dodger liked to bark and growl at whoever got what he deemed to be too close, to make sure you weren’t left vulnerable and alone with nothing but a belly full of Evans.

You never had to complain about a lack of love or protection - not with your two boys almost fighting over you for cuddles or kisses. Most nights, Dodger would put his big fluffy head on your stomach and rest there, being as close as he could to his growing friend. It was fair to say that Dodger’s big head and Chris’ hands fought for who got to feel the baby move around the most. 

Baby Evans would be completely impartial of course, rolling around for anyone who brought a sense of comfort. Nobody missed out - you were all family.

Therefore, as Dodger has truly been part of so much of your life, it was only fair that Chris felt bad for leaving him for the past 2 days. Of course, his sister had come over to feed him and play with him, however Chris wanted to make sure that his bubba knew he’d not been forgotten by you or him.

But leaving had been worth it, as this time, you and Chris now return to your family home with someone brand new for your lovable dog to meet.

After parking the car, he turns to face you in the backseat as you gaze fondly over the tiny person wrapped up and buckled into the big clunky safe car seat. Your little angel, your honeymoon baby who was most definitely conceived in the villa you’d rented out for 3 weeks in The Bahamas for your honeymoon.

Your husband smiles at you, watching you interact with your son. You feel his gaze on you and you look up to him, not even the impact of the sheer exhaustion you felt course through your body, could change how lovingly he looked at you. It still makes you blush.

“I love him so much.” You whisper, to Chris, to yourself, to anyone who will listen. “ And yes, before you ask, he’s totally fine, still hasn’t woken up. he’s even clutching his tiny teddy.” Chris looks at you the same way you’ve been looking at your newborn son. In utter adoration.

However he soon springs into action, helping you out of the car, using his strength to lift out the baby carrier from the backseat. He gently fixes the blanket on top of his son’s tiny body, a blanket knitted for the newborn Evans by his Chris’ own Ma - now a Grandma to his own child, not just his nieces and nephews. He smiles at the thought of his whole family getting to meet his son, and his son getting to grow up in a huge family full of love and laughter. Putting the carrier next to you at the front door, he retrieves the rest of the luggage, before he grabbing his keys to open the door.

He hears a bark. Then another. And then, a few excitable, louder woofs.

You can both hear Dodger jumping up at the door and so mutually decide for Chris to enter first, going straight to the mutt, cuddling him and letting him jump around in excitement. Chris fluffs his pup’s ears as he laughs at Dodger’s rambunctious behaviour, getting all his pent up energy out while you try to sneak past the two of them having their moment, taking the baby carrier to the living room.

“Hey Dodge! Yeah it’s me, your old man, and Mom is here too!!! Yeah Mommy’s here!! And we have a big surprise for you - we’re gonna introduce you to your new brother! Your baby brother huh, yeah that’s right bubba!” Chris smiles, still laughing and talking away to Dodger who he’s missed just as much the past couple of days. It makes you so happy to see the bond between your man and his ever loyal dog.

Before you know it, Dodger has lost interest in Chris - “Sorry Chris, I guess I’m his favourite now” you had said when you first got together - keen to see you and whatever the new smelling thing is that you’ve brought home.

Finally, the momentous occasion had arrived. the first meeting of Chris’ special boys. You had both been a little nervous for the newest arrival to be introduced to Dodger, given how loving and excitable he could be. But you both trusted him, and your gut instincts, and decided that if you wanted everything to be as normal as possible, then Dodger was going to be with you all from the first day you bring the baby home, and start their sure to be close bond from then.

You take your son out, cradling him close to your chest. From Dodger’s viewpoint, he can see Mom, but also two tiny socked feet. Chris is holding his bubba’s collar, but only loosely as Dodger settles down beside you quickly and quietly.

“Okay easy bud, we’re gonna introduce you now to someone really special. Good boy, Dodge, nice and calm.” Dodger sits patiently, still sniffing at the new smell, but can tell that whatever is happening is important.

You smile, thankful that your pup is staying true to his kind nature. “It’s ok Chris, he’s fine. Dodge honey - this is CJ.”

You lower down your sweet baby to your lap where Dodger can see. CJ is a small, delicate bundle, with a soft mop of dark hair, while his long delicate lashes rest on soft cheeks. You’ve only seen his little peepers once today as you changed him before you left the hospital, but it’s only when Dodger nudges a foot with his nose that CJ opens his eyes again. You smile, and Chris breathes a sigh of relief as Dodger makes no plans to act suddenly or nastily.

“Yeah sweetheart” you address the bundle on your lap, “that’s Dodger. That’s your big brother. He’s been looking after you so much already, and you’re gonna have so much fun with him.” Dodger rests his head on your lap by the sweet boy and sniffs at him, while CJ slowly flutters his big eyes, sleep planning to take him once more.

“Good boy Dodge...good job buddy” Chris pats Dodger, as he watches the scene before him slowly unfold, just as it had in his dreams. Dodgers big eyes are just staring at the baby, and apart from the odd sniff now and then, he doesn’t move. Already, he wants to make sure that his little buddy is good.

You turn to Chris. “See, I told you he’d be fine”.

CJ closes his eyes ready for some more sleep and Dodger turns to look at Chris, which makes him laugh softly.

“Yeah bud he can’t play right now, not like your old man here. But give him a little while and he’ll be chasing you round the garden like nobody’s business.”

Chris goes to give his oldest bud more pats, wanting to let him know what a good job he’s doing already, but quickly Dodger rushes off, only to return with his favourite toy lion, planting it on your lap right next to your newborn son.

“Ohhh thank you bubba”, you nearly cry at the sweet gesture. “What do you say CJ? We say ‘Thank you Dodger’”.

Chris smiles. He’ll take the hospital stuff upstairs later but for now you’re his priority. Well, not just you now, but baby CJ too. His family.

He looks at Dodger resting his head by his lion and CJ, knowing already that the loyal pup would do anything for his little brother. He made no mistake in starting this family with a loveable, trustworthy dog.

He couldn’t have chosen a better best friend and protector for his son, Chris reckons.

---------------

let me know what you think!

i am also taking requests for drabbles & lists!

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember Day 15: Ooze

It has been brought to my attention that there is a Hypnomaster69 out there in the kink world. This story is not about him nor are the characters based on any particular people in the community- they're more amalgamations of several people I have known cobbled together with many a Fetlife poster.

Matt oozed down the hotel hallway, surveying the crowd. He had dressed to impress this hypnocon with his favorite sports coat and some brand new shoes. He waved over at one of his older friends in the corner- a guy he went way back with. Matt was glad to see that there were some good people still around in the community. It had all gotten too PC and self-victimizing lately for him.

Matt couldn’t help but notice this year that there were quite a few female attendees who wouldn’t meet his eye. He hated how the hypnokink community had become so judgmental against men. Matt had never hurt anyone- not without their consent at least. It wasn’t his responsibility that some of these younger girls wanted some fucked up things. Matt had always and only been fulfilling both his and his partners' needs. This was kink, after all, not meditation class. Matt had been around awhile- he knew that people wouldn’t do anything under hypnosis that they didn’t secretly want to do anyway. Matt just freed people from their self-imposed baggage. It wasn’t his fault that some previous partners had figured out that kink wasn’t for them and left the community. Everyone was an adult here.

As Matt walked near the registration table, he noticed a young woman that he had never seen before. She was Asian with long pretty hair. Her Pokemon dress hung loosely on her slim body. She was standing all by herself, looking around nervously.

Maybe con wouldn’t be so bad after all, Matt thought to himself.

He walked over to her and waved. 

“Hi! I’m HypnoMaster69! But you can call me Matt. Are you here all by yourself?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m Amy. I just saw that this was happening on the internet and I live close by so I took the chance and showed up. I didn’t know that I needed a different name.” She looked down abashedly at "Amy" written in big letters on her name tag.

Matt laughed, pleased. “Maybe we can find another one for you here. Can I give you a hug?”

“Errr.....sure I guess?” she responded, awkwardly leaning in to the hug.

Matt smiled after letting her go. “I’m glad you aren’t weird about physical touch. This is a VERY touchy community- people sometimes find it off-putting if you’re too frigid about that.”

‘Oh,” said Amy.

“I’m happy that I ran into you!” said Matt. “I don’t really have a lot of plans for this con and I like showing new people around. It can be hard to learn the community ropes sometimes. For example, your badge- did you know that putting all the stickers on the top of your badge like that usually means that you’re a hypnotist?”

Amy’s eyes widened a bit. “It does?”

Matt giggled. “Yeah. You’ll probably have thirsty pathetic men falling at your feet all weekend begging you to hypnotize them. It’ll be hilarious. Don’t worry though- I’ll protect you. I’ve been a hypnotist for decades- people around here respect that and won't mess with me. By the way, have you ever been hypnotized before?”

Amy smiled. “Once or twice” She seemed privately amused by something.

Great, a newbie, Matt thought. ‘Well you’ll have a chance to see and experience all KINDS of things this weekend. You’ll love it. If you’d like, maybe we can play together a bit later on? I’d like to show you what you’re capable of.”

“I think I might like that,” said Amy. “Come to a few classes with me so I can see some things I’d like to try and then we can talk about planning some play. Deal?” She extended her hand for a handshake.

“Deal,” Matt said, also extending his hand. 

For a moment, Matt's attention felt diverted somewhere- something was odd.

Matt blinked.

Meh. It probably wasn’t important to think about.

“C’mon, “ said Amy. “Let’s go to the class on anchoring.”

----------------------------------

Matt sat besides Amy all class. 

Matt was having a hard time paying attention today. The class was so boring that he felt some of his morning sleepiness again. He had thought he had chased those feelings off with coffee but... apparently not. Matt would have definitely presented this class better. He should have insisted on presenting this year.

Fortunately, feeling bored had given him plenty of time to watch Amy. She seemed really engaged in the class. It was endearing watching her take notes and bounce a little bit when she heard something that excited her. Matt would be sure to show her some anchoring tricks later on that would really blow her subby little mind. If she liked this lecture, she would LOVE all the things he could do.

Fantastically, it turned out that Amy was the kind of touchy that Matt was. She would lean over during class and make comments to him- some that he would pay attention to and some would slide right past him in his boredom. He noticed that sometimes when she was talking or when the presenter said certain things, she would lean over and touch his shoulder lightly. That felt nice. She must really be into him.

At the end of class, Amy let Matt see the knitting needles and wool she had brought to con. It was the kind of girly hobby that he wouldn't have normally been interested in, but Amy's enthusiastic rambling about it was captivating. She spoke about the beauty of repetitive patterns. She said that if there was something it was important for her to think about or focus on, sometimes she would repeat that thing to herself with every stitch as a kind of mindfulness exercise. Sometimes she wasn't even aware of what she was thinking- her brain would just repeat important thoughts over and over with each stitch she made and she could just enjoy how good that felt. She also talked about knitting projects as a metaphor for beauty of social cohesion- all the threads working together for a greater whole. It was certainly an interesting perspective.

At the end of the conversation, Amy gave Matt her knitting needles to hold. They felt good in his hands, somehow. Better than he would have thought.

After the next class, Matt asked if Amy wanted to go back to his room to play. Amy declined, saying she wanted to go to more classes. She had really been enjoying sitting next to him, though. Wouldn't he like to come with her and see another class?

He found that he would.

As the day wore on, Matt was pleased to find that he might have a better reputation than he had originally thought. People, especially women, who hadn't talked to him in years came up to him and Amy to speak to them. Amy apparently already had a bit of a reputation online and had connected with many people over Skype prior to con. Matt was surprised about her popularity. He was also surprised to find how many people wanted to speak to him or give him a hug or touch him on the shoulder. He was still feeling tired and wasn't quite keeping track of all the conversations, but it was nice to feel like a part of the group again. People even responded with enthusiasm to the knitting that he held in his hands- saying that they were happy to see him engaging in a new hobby.

Matt kept going to classes with Amy. He was feeling unusually charitable today and let her pick their schedule. He had already seen everything anyway- and watching Amy was encouraging. It was nice to see old ideas through new eyes.

The last class that Amy wanted to go to that day was the Women in Hypnosis panel. Matt pointed out a note in the schedule that men were encouraged not to attend this class, but Amy had talked to the group leader and they were going to make an exception for Matt. That was really nice of them. Matt was glad that they recognized his expertise.

The Women in Hypnosis class ended up being a bit of a bust. From the time he entered the room, it seemed like so many people were talking at once that it was hard to keep track. Women's voices sometimes took on this droning sound and the effect on Matt was pretty soporific. He had fallen asleep early in the class, only occasionally awakened slightly by a touch on the shoulder or someone saying his name. But during those times Amy, still sitting right next to him, would lean over and whisper in his ear that everything was ok- he didn't need to consciously listen to what was going on. He could just go back to sleep.

Despite the sleepiness he experienced in class, Matt felt really great afterwards. The grogginess had lifted and he felt more positive than he had in years. He also felt much more positive towards the women that had been in the class with him. Matt admitted to himself that he had been kind of a jerk in the community sometimes- ignoring women, making rude comments about trans women, showing female partners a lack of respect- but somehow sitting in that class and actually listening to those women for an hour had done him a world of good and given him a lot to think about.

So much to think about, actually, that he wanted to give himself some proper space to process it. Matt decided that he didn't really need to attend the rest of the convention after all. He had already learned everything anyway and it might do him good to take the rest of the days allotted and just enjoy a normal vacation. He heard that there was a beautiful local park nearby.

When he told Amy about his decision, she hugged him again and told him that she understood. She thanked him for being her companion for the first day of her first ever hypnocon. She even let him keep her knitting needles and yarn to remember her by.

When the next year rolled around, Matt decided that he needed a change. Instead of attending the hypnocon again, he would go to a knitting convention that was being held at the same time. He had gotten really into knitting this last year- it relaxed him and made him feel really good about himself. He had been welcomed into that community with open arms, appreciated as one of the few men who shared the hobby.

Matt also kept up with some of his hypnosis friends, including Amy. They never actually did hypnosis together, but they would often chit chat and knit together on calls. Matt loved to listen to her voice as she excitedly talked about knitting projects or kink or other things that were going on in her life. Her life seemed to be going really well. He reflected that his life was going well too. He was so happy to have met Amy at hypnocon last year.

What a fortunate coincidence.

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 27 ~Obsessions~

"Claire! There ye are!"

She spun around in her chair to face Geillis. "Hey! Right on time. Just finishing."

Geillis crossed her arms, took a step back and studied her face. "Mmm ...ye look great. Nae dark circles under yer eyes, ye gained a bit of weight, and ye're no' cranky. Sleeping better?"

She grinned. The last few weeks had been perfect. She was finally sleeping without the nightmares and eating properly. Her work schedule had finally loosened up after the arrival of her new assistant, Mary McNab, a widower in need of a part-time job. And to her relief, her nauseousness and fainting spells seemed to have ebbed. 

Then there was Jamie.

The thought of him made her smile. Since that night in the stable, they had been together almost every day and most nights. And when he wasn't with her, he was either busy rehabilitating Donas or overseeing and working on the renovation of the house he bought a while back. Although she had offered money from her inheritance to finance their eventual home's restoration, he was too stubborn and proud to accept. He was persistent and adamant that it was a man's job to provide for his family with his own sweat and hard work. Slightly annoyed but not wanting to disturb the peace, she conceded, thinking her money could be put to use for other things in the future. She really couldn't complain much about his stubbornness. After all, it was this particular trait that got him through his ordeal.

Although aware of the changes in her body, her pregnancy was still not visible, which was a great thing, since her rushed wedding was only a couple of weeks away, a few months before Jenny's. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt relaxed, and her spirit was light, and she wasn't about to stress over their upcoming nuptials. After what happened in the last few months, she realised life was too precious to be worrying. Whatever worries and expectations she had for the future, she had shoved them away and focused on the present. She did precisely what Ellen had advised her.

Take it one moment at a time. One day at a time.

Let your sense of control go and give it up to the higher power.

Believe you will be guided to the right path and have faith.

As for Jamie, pending fatherhood had changed him a lot. He had been slightly going overboard with baby proofing the house and buying heaps of reading materials on first-time parenthood. And slowly, despite protests from the family, he had also eased his way back to work in the hotel, doing only half-days so as not to compromise his recovery. 

She refocused on Geillis. "Thank you. I'm finally sleeping through the night, so I'm more energetic."

"That's great, chick. It's about time. We don't want ye looking all gaunt and stressed out on yer big day."

"After what happened with Annalise, I think I have my priorities straightened out by now. Call it an awakening or whatever. I'm determined not to be one of those bridezillas. I'll just go with the flow. I'm just happy Jamie is on his feet and thriving even if he's back to being his stubborn self. But I must say, he's obsessing way too much about the baby to a point he was wondering if there was some sort of daddy boot camp around this area."

Geillis laughed. "Aye, weel, that's quite normal. He's definitely looking better too. He looks like a man truly well-loved. If ye ken what I mean." She winked to make a point.

"Ha, ha! Anyway, enough of me. How're things with Willie?"

Geillis rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation over the topic. But Claire knew her friend's feelings ran way deeper. "Weel, ye ken it took a while before he convinced me to go out to dinner with him ..." She paused to check her cuticles. "I tried to be all cool about it by telling him that I'm a big girl, and I could handle one night stands and that he didn't need to take me out to dinner as a thank ye. I was convinced I was some sort of transitional. Weel, he was appalled with my assumptions. But whatever ...I'm done fighting my feelings. Like ye, I'm just going with the flow. I like the lad, Claire but sometimes, I cannae forget that time when he called out yer name on our first night together. It keeps coming back."

"Oh, Geillis." Claire stood up and hugged her friend. When she finally pulled away, she looked at her friend in the eyes. "Listen. He announced to the family that you're his girlfriend, and he hasn't done that for years. Besides, how many times did he ask ye out before ye relented? That accounts for something. He must like you a lot to pursue you; otherwise, he wouldn't have been persistent. Stop worrying. He cares for you, and you know fine, Willie is not that sort of bloke, ok?"

"Aye," Geillis shrugged. "It's just that the Fraser lads are known for their gallantry, so ye never know if Willie was just trying to do right by me."

Claire shook her head. "Now, don't be daft. Willie hardly goes home to Lallybroch now. He's always in our house, and that's because he wants to spend more time with you. And that reminds me, I think he better start coughing up some cash for the rent. That man can eat!"

"Weel so does yer, Jamie. What's with men and midnight snacks?" 

They looked at each other and giggled.

"Come on, lass, let's get ye out of here before more work is piled on yer desk." Geillis started to pull her hand as she grabbed her satchel. "I don't want to be late for our appointment."

Claire almost forgot about their appointment at a beauty salon. They were planning to have their nails done, including facial and Brazilian wax treatments. It was Geillis' advance bridal gift to her. "Erm Geillis, don't ye think I can skip the Brazilian wax part? It sounds like it's going to hurt. And aren't we supposed to do this before the wedding? You know all this pampering and stuff."

"Ach, shush. This one's on me. Jenny arranged the pamper session before the wedding already. And as for the Brazilian wax, Jamie will be please, and ye can consider it an early wedding present for him. And besides, I've wanted to do this for a long time, just ye and me. Even though we live in the same house, we hardly spend time together anymore," Geillis chattered as she continued to pull Claire along. "Ye ken what they say, no pain, no gain. Trust me ...men love it. It will be worth it."

"Well, Jamie has never complained before..."

"Of course, he hasn't complained. He doesn't know any better. Wait till ye see the look on his face when he sees yer fanny."

Self-consciousness crashed over her, and she yanked her friend by the arm. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Pipe down will you! Don't want the staff knowing what we're about to do."

"Don't want the staff to know what?" a deep voice came from behind them. The girls jumped as Willie approached them. After a quick kiss to Geillis, he eyed them both suspiciously. 

"Aaah, a wee bit of a trim and some pampering. Girls' afternoon out, ye ken. Will be home before dinner," Geillis explained hurriedly. She stood on tiptoes to give Willie a quick peck before pulling Claire roughly.

"Wait ..." Willie called after them.

"We're late, sorry," Claire looked at him apologetically. "See you at home."

Damn Geillis! He will find out soon enough what they have been up to.  Claire cringed at the thought as she allowed her friend to pull her away from the baffled looking Willie.

..........

It was early evening when Claire finally made it through her door. She had dropped off Geillis at the hotel for her impromptu dinner date with Willie before heading home. Other than the funny feeling between her legs after the Brazilian wax treatment, Claire felt shiny and brand new from her pampering session. Sneaky as her friend was, she appreciated their time together since it was long overdue and she very much needed some girl-talk.

"In here, Sassenach," Jamie's voice called out as she heard utensils and pans clacking. She inhaled deeply, and she smelled food.

Dropping her satchel and laptop on the coffee table, she made her way to the kitchen. "Oh, hi ...Whatever you're making, I hope you didn't make loads. Geillis and I were served snacks at the beauty salon."

She was just about to go over to Jamie when he stopped her on her tracks. "Stay where ye are, Sassenach. I need to blindfold ye."

"W-what?" 

Jamie waved a hand in the air. "A wee degustation. It's straightforward - I blindfold ye, and ye let me know how each of the things I made taste. It's sort of a trial for a full course menu I'd like to make and suggest to Murtagh."

"Huh? Taste-testing? I don't know if I could go through a whole set of menu, Jamie. I might have loads of appetite these days but don't you think it's a bit late for that?" She eyed the paper bags on the countertop with suspicion. "And why do I have to be blindfolded?"

Jamie smiled. "They're just wee bite portions, Sassenach. I just want to know how the components go together, and ye have a great taste palate. As for the blindfold, I think one has a more open mind when ye can't visually peg the ingredients. Allows yer taste buds to take over as the primary sensory perception."

"Aaah, is that so, Chef Fraser?" she teased, grinning.

"Aye, it is so. Weel, are ye helping me out here or not?"

Her skin tingled with anticipation. "Fine, let's do this."

He lit up, pushing up the sleeves on his casual shirt as if prepping for something big. He put on Claire's girly pink apron hanging from the hook, which only made him look more masculine than ever, and dragged a chair for her to sit on.

"I can sit on the stool," she pointed out.

"No. A chair is sturdier, trust me."

Sturdier for what?  She shrugged. "Alright, so what do I do?"

He pulled out a scarf from the back pocket of his jeans, grinning, a wicked gleam lighting his eyes. "First this."

"Oooh, kinky."

"Aye, I can do kinky," he whispered as he gently placed the scarf over her eyes and tied a loose knot, before planting a kiss on her cheek. "So, can ye see anything?"

"Nope."

"Right, sit tight and give me a few secs."

She heard cupboard doors open and close, and the rustle of bags. She smelled the scent of freshness and a variety of herbs, all mixed up. The refrigerator door squeaked, and then it went silent. Jamie's shuffling around the kitchen slowly relaxed her, and she allowed her mind to drift while she waited for the first taste.

Moments passed before she sensed him kneeling in front of her as a rush of his warm breath hit her lips. "Are ye ready for yer first taste, Sassenach?"

She twitched her nose and smiled. "Yes."

"Open up ...aaahhh."

Her lips parted. She expected the cool, smooth touch of the spoon, but Jamie used his fingers instead. He placed something small and soft on her tongue. The flavour of earth tickled her taste buds, and the firm bite against her teeth exploded juice in her mouth.

"Dumpling? With truffles and wild mushroom." A smile touched her lips as she caught the last bite of mirin. "Ooooh, the balance is incredible."

He wiped a trickle of moisture from her bottom lip. "Good lass. It was dumpling filled with porcini, chanterelles and truffle oil. Did you like it?"

She grinned, licking her lips. "Uh-huh. It was yum."

"Alright, next one." She waited, her senses going on high alert. "Open for me."

Her body relaxed as if trying to respond to the command. Before she could take a whiff of what's coming next, Jamie pushed the morsel into her mouth. She tasted something creamy, thick cheese combined with a hint of garlic, olive oil, sweet basil and crisp tomato.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "Mozzarella cheese, my favourite. And tomato ...so fresh and so good, like it was recently plucked from the vine. And basil ...this is so heaven!"

He chuckled, and his hand began stroking her cheek, soothing her into a more relaxed trance. The simplicity of the flavours flowed through her, and she allowed herself to lean back. "Ye're very good at this, Sassenach and the faces ye're making, is making it hard for me to concentrate," he said in a low voice, his finger trailing down her throat. "Do ye want more?"

She nodded eagerly this time. "Uh-huh."

"I want to take off yer top."

She was caught off-guard by his request. His outrageous demand was over the top, aware that there's a possibility Willie and Geillis could walk in on them anytime even though she knew they went out for dinner. But still, the whole scenario was turning her on and she felt brazen. "Do it for me, then."

Not saying another word, he unbuttoned her blouse with deft fingers, and the cool air rushed at once over her exposed skin. For her, it felt so outrageously decadent to be sitting in the kitchen, blindfolded and having Jamie feed her. As her mind began to wander and ponder what was going to come next, he took her by surprise when his mouth suddenly clamped on her nipple and started sucking through the lace fabric of her bra, flicking his tongue back and forth. She gasped and automatically arched toward him. Before her hands could grip his shoulders, he was gone, and she was grasping air. Next, she heard a clatter of utensil hitting the countertop, the rustle of paper and Jamie whistling. Each second twisted the tension in her stomach to another knot.

She tried to even out her breaths as she felt him come closer, but he spoke quite calmly. "Ready for yer next bite, Sassenach?"

She nodded.

"Open."

She did and bit down. It was flaky and smelled of the river. There was a hint of teriyaki sauce and spring onion, but it didn't overwhelm the natural flavour of the fish.

"Salmon! Oh ...and it's beautifully cooked."

"Mmm, very good." As she chewed and swallowed, he unhooked her bra, and her breasts spilt free into his waiting hands. The combination of his touch and the lingering flavour of food in her mouth made her shiver. Coasting his finger over her stomach, he traced the waistband of her skirt. "Lift yer hips, Sassenach, this is coming off."

Her inner rational voice wanted to tell him absolutely not, but her body had a mind of its own as her hips lifted to their own accord.

She heard his sharp intake of breath. "Beautiful ...so beautiful. It never stops, does it? The wanting ye?" he whispered as he stroked and caressed her calves and upward, gently parting her legs. She hissed, unable to get a word to pass her mouth. "We have two tastes left. Let's get ye something to wash it down with."

She could only whimper at the loss of his touch as he stood up and made his way back again in the kitchen. A cupboard door slammed, and the sound of liquid being poured into a glass echoed in her ears. "Just a wee sip because it's alcohol. Let me know what ye think."

He cupped her chin and tipped the glass to her lips. The wine trickled down her throat, the scent of blackberries drifting to her nostrils and soaking her mouth. She relished the intense tannins and boldness of flavour. "Red wine. I can taste berries. Cabernet Sauvignon?"

"Aye, it's Cabernet Sauvignon. Pregnancy has definitely heightened yer senses. Have a little more and then that's enough. It's not good for the baby."

As she took another sip, his palm cupped her between her thighs, taking her by surprise.

Her hips shot up, and the wine slid down her throat. "Stunning," Jamie murmured as if she was one of his scientific experiments.

A choked laugh escaped her throat. She thought they had both gone bonkers acting out a foodie sex scene, yet she didn't want him to stop and needed him to finish where he'd taken her. "Stop teasing me, Jamie," she said hoarsely. "I need ..."

"Hush, I ken what ye need, Sassenach. Lift up."

And she did, and he carefully slid down her panties.

She waited for his hands or his mouth, but there was only cold air. "Jamie?"

"Oh, holy Christ!"

Oh, holy Christ, what?  She was confused for a moment and then she remembered the Brazilian wax treatment she had from earlier. All of a sudden, her face heated up and she tried to squeeze her legs together in embarrassment. "I guess I've gone over the top. Y-you don't like it?" she asked stammering.

He didn't answer her question. "Legs apart, Sassenach, I want to see," he demanded in a low voice.

She obeyed, completely helpless, wishing she could see his reaction. There was a long moment of silence.  Jesus, why isn't he saying anything? 

He didn't utter a word, as she felt him move away from her. Every muscle in her body was locked with tension as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Instead, when he came back, his fingers pushed past her lips and laid a sample on her tongue.

Chocolate truffle!  Bittersweet, rich and creamy. The chocolate coated her tongue and melted in her mouth, making her smile. "Oh God! That's lush," she said huskily.

Without warning, the blindfold was suddenly ripped off, his mouth taking hers in an urgent kiss. Then his tongue slid in to taste the residual flavours in Claire's mouth while his fingers slid between her legs.

It didn't take long, and she came hard, bucking against the chair, a dozen sensations pulling her in different directions. Jamie muttered something incoherently, hiked her up against him and stumbled into her bedroom. In a few seconds, he dropped her on the bed and shed his clothes.

She was still shaking from the after-effects of her orgasm when he pushed her knees back and took her in one full, deep thrust. Sweat dripped from his brow as he locked gaze with her. At that moment, her heart burst open, filling her with light and immense love flowing out of her and surrounding them.

"You've always been mine," he whispered.

Her body welcomed him as her inner walls clamped hard around his cock. He took her wildly, and she gave it back to him, with the sting of her nails, with the ragged cries of his name and the thrust of her hips. And when they both exploded together, he wrapped his arms tight around her body, keeping her safe within the circle.

Racked with pleasure, he collapsed on top of her, muttering her name like a litany of prayer and worship.

It took a while before they got their heartbeats and breathing back to normal and reality broke through. Then Claire started to laugh against his chest, and he smiled down at her. "Wow, Jamie, what just happened there?"

"I dinna ken. I did plan on a slow seduction, but after I saw ye bare down there, I just lost it. I kinda feel like a dirty old man liking it, but I must admit, it looks verra pretty. Was I too rough?" he asked, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

She found it endearing how his accent became more pronounced when he was sex-drunk. Smiling, she propped herself on her elbow, her finger tracing the whorl of hair on his chest. "No ...it was everything, Jamie."

"Good. Now that mama is well-fed and satisfied, it's the baby's turn," he laughed, pulling her out of bed.

He was full of surprises of late, and she was only too happy for him to lead. "What did you have in mind?"

Scooping her up in his arms, he bit her earlobe gently. "First shower. Then I'll make us hot cocoa. And how about a film afterwards?"

"Sounds grand to me," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he walked them to the bathroom.

An hour later, they were settled with their mugs of steaming hot cocoa in front of the television. Dressed in his t-shirt, she cuddled next to him under the blanket. 

They were just getting to the exciting part of the film when there was a loud knock on the door, making Claire jump.

She was about to get up when Jamie pulled her back. "I'll get it."

"It could be Geillis and Willie. She sent me a message earlier that she left her keys in her office."

He nodded and made his way to the door. The next consecutive knocks were louder and more urgent. "Coming ..." Jamie's loud voice called out as he hurried, the limp still slightly evident in his stride.

Claire put down the mug on the coffee table and got up from the sofa. She had an unerring instinct it wasn't Geillis knocking on the door.

"Isobel! What are ye doing here?"

It was Geneva's sister looking stressed and worried. "Is Claire here?"

Claire walked up to them, a niggling sensation starting to stir in her belly. She knew the girl, but they had hardly exchanged a full sentence since coming back to Lallybroch. Confused, she wondered why the girl was asking after her. "Isobel, what's the matter?"

Jamie waved Isobel in and closed the door behind her, worry etching his brows. "Is it Donas?"

Isobel shook her head, her eyes filled with panic and dread. "No, no, Donas is fine. I-i-i-it's my sister. She plans to do something terrible. I-i found her diary and a lot of awful things are written about y-you and the things she wants to do. It's so horrible, I c-c-can't even say it, " she stammered, glancing at Claire. "A-and yesterday I found a bottle of sulfuric acid under her bed. At first, I didn't think much about it because my father uses it to clean metals on the farm. B-but earlier I looked it up and found articles about it being used in acid attacks. A-a-and I started to wonder why she had it under her bed."

Jamie ran a hand through his hair, ragged breath whooshing out of him.

Claire suppressed her panic, not wanting to jump to false conclusions. "Isobel, maybe she's just ranting in her diary. There has to be an explanation for the acid under her bed ..." She knew instantly her rationalisation sounded lame the moment it came out of her mouth.

"N-no, she's been obsessing about you ever since her job application at the hotel was turned down by Brian. I c-can't stand back and do nothing ...and ..."

Their conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door, making them all jump.

"It must be Geillis," Claire sighed as she looked at Jamie.

Before Jamie could respond, Isobel turned around and opened the door. Then everything happened in a blur. One minute they were all standing there, expecting Geillis to come in and in the next, Isobel was on the floor howling in pain as she clutched her upper body.

Standing in the doorway was Geneva holding an empty bottle, and her eyes widened in horror as she watched her sister collapsed. "No, no, Isobel ...no, no ...I'm so sorry. Oh my God, what have I done," she cried as she fell to her knees beside her sister.

It must have been adrenaline, fear or her heightened instinct but Claire didn't take any chances as she grabbed a decorative vase on the console table and smashed it on Geneva's head. Numbly, Claire watched her crumple beside her sister as she slowly backed away.

[less-than-wholesome-shipper]

Dog DayZ - Part 2

Part 1

AO3

newTumbl

WARNINGS: Bestiality, talk of pet play, sloppy seconds

Taglist: @starkersenses @starkeristheendgame

~~~~~

Almost two whole weeks pass before Peter calls him.

Tony had almost been ready to write it off as some kind of kinky fever dream after going too long without sleep, if it wasn’t for the fact that Ace had morphed from his regular self back into the terror he was before that day.

“Sorry it took me so long to get back with you, Mr. Stark. Things have been a bit busy lately.”

“That’s understandable… I’m sure your services are in high demand. Shit! I meant your job - your real job. Dammit! Not that I think you go around doing… uh… that other stuff.. For fun. I mean, I hope you like doing it - wait! I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded! I jus-”

The softest puffs of laughter could be heard through the phone and Tony just sunk down in his chair and berated himself for sounding so stupid.

“I’m just gonna shut up now before I choke on my foot. How’s that sound?”

“Noo! You’re fine, Mr. Stark. I get that this isn’t a normal situation for you, so nerves are to be expected.”

Tony chewed on his bottom lip to keep from asking if this was normal for him. Because he wasn’t sure which answer he was hoping for. Besides that really wasn’t any of his business, right?

“Right! Well… Terms. We were going to discuss terms of… care for Ace… here.”

“Yes. While we still don’t have a formal program implemented at this time, we figured we’ll use this arrangement to… work out the kinks, as they say. But only if you agree, of course.”

There was definitely a little more than the average customer service smile in the way the kid said that. There was a bit of promise in the fine print that had Tony’s dick taking notice.

“Su-re.” Tony cringed at how high that came out. So he cleared his throat to try again. “Sure. Of course. A trial run is the best way to make sure something works. It’s just good business.”

“Exactly. I’m glad you understand and are willing to help.”

“Happy to hel-”

“Which day would work best for me to move in?”

“I’m sorry?” Tony’s brain short-circuited as he tried to reprocess the words he’d just heard.

“Move in date, Mr. Stark. What day works best for you?”

“Move in… You- you’ll be moving in?” 

“Of course, Mr. Stark. In Home Care happens in the home and it would be far too inconvenient for Ace if I lived elsewhere. That would leave him reliant on you or a set schedule for his release. We’re hoping this program can provide a natural full-access experience for our clients.”

‘Full-access’ burned hot and loud in Tony’s mind and dick. It took him a minute to remember how to speak.

“R-right. Yeah. Natural. Ok. uh… how about today? Is that too soon? I can-”

“Today works for me. I just need to make a couple stops, and I can be there by 5?”

Tony glanced at his watch to see that it was just before 3 then took stock of his desk still covered by paperwork that needed his attention. “Sounds good to me.”

“See you then, Mr. Stark!” 

As soon as he hung up the phone, Tony paged his secretary while stuffing proposals and contracts inelegantly into his briefcase.

“Angela, I’ll be working from home for the rest of the week. Push back all of my appointments and have my calls forwarded to JARVIS. Thanks! OH! And if you could, be a dear and call the cleaning service and reschedule tomorrow’s service for Monday. I can handle cleaning up after myself this week.” Tony racked his brain for anything else he might need. It was only Tuesday, but hopefully, a week should give them enough time to work out some sort of plan to properly fit this new development into his life.

He was definitely struggling given that most of his brain was focusing on his dick, but after a good five minutes of coming up short, Tony just said fuck it and left. If it was really that important, he would have thought of it by now.

When Tony steps off the elevator, Ace is there to greet him as usual. It doesn’t take him long to pick up on Tony’s frenzied state and responds in kind with extra enthusiasm - adding in bass-y barks to his excited jumping. 

Tony fends him off long enough to drop his briefcase off in his home-office and make it to the bedroom, stripping off his suit along the way. 

“Yes, yes. I get that you’re excited because I’m excited, boy. But just wait until you see why I’m excited.” 

Ace runs ahead and jumps up on the bed, eyeing Tony as he follows. 

Tony smirks as Ace flops over and rolls around in the covers while he continues stripping. “I think you’ve got the right idea there, bud, just not the right bed.”

As if Ace understood that, he rights himself quickly and launches off the bed. Only he misjudges the trajectory of his dismount and barrels into Tony’s legs just as the man is trying to step out of his underwear. The result is the two of them sprawled out on the carpet with Tony laughing.

Right up until Ace licks his dick.

It catches Tony so off guard that he nearly chokes on his own tongue as his body locks up.

“Hey! Woah!” Tony scrambles to his feet, covering his junk with one hand while the other struggles to push Ace’s insistent muzzle away, but it’s a difficult task when his hand isn’t covering much with how hard he is and Ace has a long tongue.

“Ace! C’mon, quit it! We’re taking a bath so you can be nice and clean for your therapist friend. Remember him? The pretty thing that jerked you off? Don’t you want to wait for him?” Maybe it was cheating a bit to pull out the baby-talk tone, but it got Ace’s attention like it always does and distracted him long enough for Tony to march towards the bathroom, all the while telling himself he was already this hard before Ace licked him.

“Alright big guy. Bathtime.”

-----

By the time JARVIS announced Peter’s arrival, both Tony and Ace were squeaky clean, dry, and dressed down to give off a more casual atmosphere as they lounged around near the elevator- Tony donning sweats and an A-frame and Ace in full buff as his collar was left on the bathroom counter. 

It wasn’t long before the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal two men from Maintenance carrying a large box and Peter carrying two large shopping bags.

Ace immediately lost his cool composure and darted for Peter, greeting him like they were best friends… Not that Tony could really blame him. 

“Where’dya want this, Boss?”

“Uh…” Tony’s attention is pulled away from his dog and the kid and he eyes the box for a moment before looking back at Peter.

The kid doesn’t even look up from petting Ace. “Where does Ace usually sleep?”

“In my room mostly…”

“Then that would be the best place for all of that.”

Tony just shrugs and points them in the direction of the master bedroom. Once they drop it off, they head back to the elevator.

“Thanks again for the help, guys!” Peter goes to reach for his wallet and they wave him off.

“It’s no problem kid. We’re happy to help.” 

After they leave, Tony eyes the bags and then looks back towards his bedroom a bit confused.

“Where’s the rest of your stuff?”

Peter finally looks at him with an open grin that Tony can’t read for shit.

“This is all of it. I didn’t think I’d really need much, but if that changes, we can always have it sent up.”

Tony just nods because that totally makes sense.

“Right, ok. So uh, I’ve got three spare rooms for you to choose from. Personally, I’d go wi-” 

“Actually, I think it’d be best if I sleep where Ace sleeps.”

Tony’s dick also thought that was the best idea.

“My room? I mean yeah, I probably don’t sleep there 9 times out of 10, and even if I did, it is a king size so-”

“Oh, no worries there Mr. Stark. I’m not going to take your bed. I brought my own.”

Peter makes his way to the bedroom with Ace excitedly in tow, leaving Tony no real choice but to bring up the rear.

Tony watches from the door frame as Peter proceeds to pull out a massive lounge pillow and a large collapsed wire crate and set it up in the corner of the room, putting the thick pillow inside the crate.

“Ta-Da!” He turns and presents the setup like Vanna White and Tony takes way too long to put two and two together.

“You plan to sleep in that?!”

“Of course! By placing myself in a less-than-ideal sleeping area, it makes it easier to understand my role in the pack and how I’m to be treated.”

Tony couldn’t help but feel skeptical at this as he watched Ace give the kennel (a fucking dog kennel!) a cursory sniff before getting back to stuffing his muzzle between the kid���s legs. “Pretty sure he’s got a good idea of what you’re here for, kid.” 

“Maybe.” Peter gave another one of those soft, huffing laughs as he widened his stance a bit and gave Ace a light scratch behind the ears as the dog took advantage of the better access. “But it’s not just Ace that needs to get it.”

The way that the kid was looking at him now made Tony’s dick throb and his mind spiral. 

“What does that mean, kid? You want me to treat you like a dog?”

“Yes.” The intensity in that gaze told Tony that Peter was serious. 

Tony wasn’t really sure how to respond, but somehow “I don’t fuck dogs” found it’s way out his mouth before he could stop it.

Not that it wasn’t true, mind you.

The fire in Peter’s eyes dimmed a little, but he nodded just the same. “That’s your prerogative as our alpha. What matters most is that I fulfill my role for Ace.”

It felt like a bitter pill to swallow, but Tony accepted it just the same. 

“So when you say ‘treat you like a dog’, to what extent are we talking here?” Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame - not because he was feeling vulnerable or anything, he was just getting comfortable.

“Preferably, I’d like to be treated with all of the same privileges and restrictions as Ace. Eat, exercise, and bathroom breaks at the same time. I brought my own gear and bowls, but I know some owners prefer to pick those out themselves.”

“What about food? I can’t exactly feed you the same stuff Ace eats.”

“You could if you wanted to. As long as it’s a brand that adheres to specific federal guidelines, it’s legally considered fit for human consumption.” Peter just shrugs, but Tony’s already shaking his head.

“No. I’m gonna have to draw a line there. That sounds too much like lawyer speak. I’ll have the cooks put together something nutritionally balanced but not too exciting so you’re not fighting Ace for your dinner every night.”

Peter nods and tries to hide the small smile he’s sporting, but Tony still sees it and makes him feel a bit better about the whole situation.

Ace catches Tony’s attention as he nips at Peter’s hands and shirt with a soft whine.

“He’s getting impatient.” Peter tries to calm him by petting him, but Ace ducks his hand and nips again.

“Yeah, well, Ace isn’t famous for his patience, but he’ll have to get over it. These kinds of negotiations are important to get in detail. Although, honestly, I’m fine with you having the run of the place as you like. Ace has it just the same. You know, within reason. Don’t shit on the carpet or anything like that. I’m really more concerned about emergency info and the like. I assume there’s some sort of record at your job that says you’re here?”

With Peter’s nod, Tony nods in kind and pushes up off the doorway.

“Ok then. Go ahead and write up a list of allergies, emergency contact info and all of that… and specific dog stuff you want/need for all of this. We can go over it tomorrow. Gives me time to wrap my head around all of this a bit more. And we can spend the rest of today getting to know each other better.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, Mr. Stark!” Peter’s face is back to that wide beaming grin as he pulls his shirt up over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans. “Would you mind grabbing a towel again?... You know. We should probably look into getting a set specifically for this. It’d be easier to keep them on hand.”

Tony's body is moving before he even thinks about it, crossing the room towards the bathroom for a fresh towel. He steps back into the bedroom just in time to watch Peter lean over the kennel and pull a decent sized knotted dildo out of his ass. 

He must be making a specific kind of face because Peter gives him a sheepish shrug as he sets the used toy on the kennel and reaches for the towel. “I figured Ace wouldn’t want to wait, so I prepped myself earlier. I may need your help with this, Mr. Stark. Sometimes they have trouble getting it in.”

Tony is seriously questioning his own intelligence at this point, given the length of time it keeps taking for him to process any information Peter relays to him. Especially now, watching dumbly as Peter lays out the towel and kneels over it - falling forward onto all fours and arching his back to present his ass.

Ace is there an instant later with a quick snuffle and an even quicker tongue. 

From his viewpoint, Tony can barely see Ace’s tongue as it moves against (and sometimes inside) the kid’s hole, but he can hear it just fine - the wet lapping loud in the almost quiet room. There’s the soft little moans Peter’s making and the booming of his own heartbeat to contend with, of course. 

Tony’s about to ask how he can help, when Peter shifts his hips - just a bit- but it must serve as some kind of natural signal because Ace pulls back and paws at the kid’s ass while humping air. Peter shifts again and Ace makes a full attempt at mounting him, but it’s off center and Ace just ends up rutting against the back of the kid’s thigh. 

“I think you’re going to have to help line him up, Mr. Stark. If you can get him there, usually he should be able to handle the rest.” 

Tony’s mouth is dry and his dick is using up all of his brain power so he doesn’t say anything, he just moves forwards and tries to guide Ace’s hips in the right direction. He gets a light growl for his efforts.

“He thinks your trying to dislodge him so you can mount me instead,” Tony decides to save that mental image for later as Peter drops his front to the floor and uses one hand to reach under him. However, at his current vantage point, Tony can’t see what he’s doing. “Don’t worry, just push him a little more… and I can- AH! AHhAhhAH!” 

Tony jumps back as Ace’s hips start going at that frantic pace again and Peter keeps up the… screaming? Moaning? He can’t quite tell which it is and he’s not sure if he should try to stop what’s happening. Underneath the kid’s cries, Tony can hear the sloppy sounds of a slick fuck and he’s fascinated, scared and turned on - frozen in his indecision.

Thankfully, (or not) just as before, Ace stops thrusting not too long after he started and Peter quiets to a gentle groan as he rests his head on his forearms.

“Y-You doin’ ok kid?” Tony realizes that maybe he should have tried asking a little earlier.

“Mmh, yeah… it’s just… he’s a bit.. Mmmm… longer than I had… hah… anticipated.” The kid sounds out of breath like he just fucked a marathon rather than the bare minute.

“Did he hurt you?” Tony spares a glance to Ace perched on top of him - he looks tired too. 

“nnNo.. I’m fine… ‘is knot’s huge though…” 

Tony can’t help but palm himself a bit at that. “Yeah?” it comes out breathy and soft and Tony would probably cringe if he were in his right mind.

“Mmmhmm… it’s almost too much… but not quite… God… I can feel it… each spurt… it’s so hot…” The words sound like their almost being punched out of him and by the end of it, Tony has a hand in his sweats, stroking himself in earnest.

He takes in the complete picture they make together, this gorgeous boy stuck on his dogs knot - nowhere to go until Ace is finished dumping his load - and pumps his cock faster, the idea so foreign and hot that his balls are already starting to draw up and -

“Wait. trust me… wait… when we untie…. It’s so much better… I promise… don’t finish yet…”

Tony looks and sees Peter watching him and he immediately stops moving - feeling caught in the act of something he shouldn’t be doing. “Sorry… I shouldn’t’ve...”

“Mmn.. it’s ok… I want you to like it…” Peter groans as he shifts a bit to get a hand under himself, palming at his own hard cock. 

Tony can’t help but look now that it has his attention. It’s on the long side, but it’s pretty thin. Obviously cut and the tip softly flushed. It was cute. Just like the rest of him. 

Suddenly Peter whines high and sharp as Ace shifts above him. “Noo nonono.. Stay… staystay… c’mon Ace… Stay, boy” 

Tony reaches out to try and steady Ace, but that doesn’t really seem to help as the dog continues to try and turn himself.

“Grab his leg! Help him turn ov- AH!”

Tony quickly jumps to help get Ace’s leg over so they’re standing ass to ass and Peter’s back to panting about as fast as Ace. 

“You still holding up ok?”

“Yeah… I’m good...it’s pulling now… it’s still a bit too big… but soon… stay close Mr. Stark… you’re gonna love it…”

Tony’s already loving the view. He can see a bare bit of Ace’s cock where it disappears into Peter, but what’s even better is he can see where the knot’s pulling. The kid’s hole is fluttering, but also bulged out a bit. Tony also notices how Ace’s balls keep twitching alongside his cock. He can’t still be…

“Is he still coming?”

“Mmhmm…” It’s more of a whine than anything and Tony really wants to come just hearing it.

“Fuck... you must be so full now…” Tony can’t keep his hand off his dick any longer - stroking himself to the idea of that pretty hole overflo-

“I am… do you want to see?” 

“Fuck yeah!” 

“Keep watching… ooOOOHHH!! FUCK!!” 

Tony watched as Peter’s hole puckered open and stretched… and stretched… and stretched even more, revealing a part of the large knot inside of him, then Ace got the message and stepped forward, pulling himself free in one quick jerk.

The kid’s hole fluttered, trying to close, but it was no use - it was gaping and probably would for a while. 

The sound of rustling drew Tony’s attention to Peter digging through one of the shopping bags and then shoving a dog bowl into Tony’s hands.

“Here. Hold this under me.”

Tony wasn’t so slow on the uptake this time, holding the bowl under Peter’s ass as he sat up. He watched as a rush of dog cum filled the bowl, with more slowly dribbling out after. When Peter reached back to work his hole with his own fingers, coaxing even more cum from deep within him, Tony sat back and with full intentions of finishing himself off, but Peter stopped him. 

“Finish in me. I’m not a dog yet, right? You can fuck me.” Slick fingers teased along his dick and that was more than enough to break Tony’s non-existent resolve.

In an instant, he had Peter bent back over, and was lining himself up. When he slid in, there was no true resistance and it was as wet as a cunt, maybe even moreso, and it felt amazing.

With a bit of encouragement from Peter, pretty soon, Tony was driving into the kid at a pace similar to Ace’s, but he at least managed a reach-around and lasted longer than the dog did.

When he finally came, he pushed each spurt as deep as he could go, and after he caught his breath, he helped Peter add it to the bowl and then watched the kid lap it all up.