EXPECTATIONS
KIROKAZE
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@anth0niy
Introduction !! đŐ. .ŐđŚŻ
Hii!! Iâm Anthony, I have a lot of interests but primarily use this blog for shipping purposes and occasional artwork! ËđˇË
ŕźŕźŕźŕź
Iâm 18+, gay, and use it/he pronouns! Iâm a transpuppyboy who loves men ę(ËľË á ËËľ)
DNI â.á
Bigoted behavior
Unable to separate fiction from reality
MAP (no exceptions.)
More below!
Dennis loves loves loves his Daddyâs cock. Often, after hard shifts, heâll just sit between Robbyâs legs, his face stuffed into his crotch. Sniffing and taking in the feeling of his Daddy being all around him.
Robbyâs in his briefs, and Dennis is in his boxers with one of Robbyâs shirts hanging off his shoulder. Heâs so fucking hard, and heâs trying so hard not to hump against Daddyâs leg or the couch. Robbyâs only half hard, but Dennis doesnât care. He loves his Daddy in any way he can get him. Robby just sits, watching the Patriots game half heartedly. Heâll run his fingers through his boyâs hair, thinking about how lucky he is. When he was younger he would get so jealous of the doms who had permanent subs, kept boys who looked so sweet kneeling for their Daddies and Masters and Sirs. Now look how far heâs come.
âYou okay there, kiddo?â
âYYYeah, âs so good. So big, Dad.â Neither of them miss the way Robbyâs cock twitches as the name. Fuck, heâs a perv. They both are. Dennisâs words are slurred and low, heâs so deep in his own headspace.
If heâs really good, he gets to keep Robby warm with his mouth. Thatâs his favorite, save for getting his face fucked. He loves feeling Daddy get harder in his mouth. There are many days in the Pitt when he would legitimately kill to be able to drag Robby into a closet and taste him. Just to let his mind rest.
Desperate, needy, kept boy Dennis who quit being a doctor a while ago, content to be Robbyâs sweet little housewife. When he had told Robby about what he wanted, Robby had nodded like it was obvious and just said Well of course. Puppies donât work, do they? At least not ones with such perfect cunts. It had made Dennis dizzy with arousal, and he had quickly climbed into his Daddyâs lap and whined and mewled as he got fingered within an inch of his life.
Eventually, Dennis gets so spoiled that when the ED is slow, he begs Robby to come home and fuck him. Just for a bit! Thirty minutes at the most, he promises!! He just wants Daddy to fill up his puppyparts. Dennis will call him crying, begging to be stuffed full because his hands arenât working and his toys arenât as good as Daddyâs cock. Working himself up into hysterics, so upset that he canât be fucked dumb as soon as possible.
thinking about huckleabbot in a world where robby and dennis are So Weird around each other with all the shoulder grabbing and the intense eye contact but jack is a man who can't be bothered with bullshit, and therefore ultimately the winner. because he sees a cute young thing who evidently loves being thrown around, actively blushes and goes a little unsteady after a hand on the nape of his neck moves him outta the way and he likes putting pretty meaty boys in their place - is usually what he's spending his nights off doing. so he puts two and two together and waits until after robby and dennis share another of their deeply psychosexually charged silent exchanges in front of the whole ED and promptly swoops in and asks dennis: "you wrestle?" dennis is red faced and it takes him a minute to even process what's happening before he's like "uh. no?" and jack is like damn. he's a little stupid too. this is just too perfect, and asks "want me to teach you? you free tomorrow night?" and dennis' brain eventually catches up with his mouth and he realises he might possibly be being propositioned as he tears his gaze away from robby's retreating back and onto jack, all solid wall of muscle and thinks fuck it. fuck it! and says yeah. yeah he'd like to learn. and then they have sweaty grappling sex alllll night longggggg
dennis left with an empty mind. to be fair, thatâs usually how he left jackâs place.
it wasâŚweird. heâd admit that to himself. he was a grown man with an MD who got treated like a dog a couple hours a week.
but it was nice. there was no thinking, no obligations, nothing besides his commands, his owner, and his pleasure.
jack sent him off with a kiss and a slap on the ass. he always paid for dennisâs uber back to his apartment. said he didnât trust a dumb puppy on the bus alone. it made dennis float a little more.
trinity had to know there was something going on. dennis shook his head to try to surface a little, knowing she wanted to plan a grocery trip with him this afternoon. dennis would eat the same thing everyday if he could, trinity said that was too boring.
the uber driver looked at him funny as he handed a cash tip but dennis paid no mind to it. he walked into his apartment and trinity was on the couch folding laundry.
she looked up from her chore, âhey huckleb-whatâs on your neck?â
dennisâs hand flew to his throat only to feelâŚleather and metal. jack had forgotten to unlock him. oh my god.
âi-uh-itâŚâ
âdude are you wearing a collar?â trinity smirked, âyouâre so much weirder than i thought.â
dennis flushed and looked down, wiggling his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. âiâŚi gotta call him to come unlock it.â
âdamn, youâre a freak!â
im expecting frank and peter to have sex during the end credits please lord
Hehehhahahauhahahahhaha
Siggghhh, Peter's seeing why they call him punisher :(
Dennis isnât quite there yet with his self-expression, so he holds off on getting any tattoos or piercings
Trinity doesnât wanna have a needle in her skin that isnât in her ears, but sheâd love to have a tattoo
So, they get non-permanent sticker tattoos that you can put on with the whole water procedure. They're ultra-realistic and are only supposed to last for around two weeks with no residue. It's perfect for a test drive
Itâs just for a fun night on the town, twin tramp stamps that make everyoneâs heads turn when they walk past
So many free drinks, so many numbers they never intend to actually call back, and getting into sections for free just cause they're gorgeous
Unfortunately, the tattoos havenât rubbed off the next day (which, duh, they just didn't read the instructions all the way through). No matter, their scrubs cover their lower back
Unfortunately, the world seemed to hate them, and there was a lot of bending over on the shift. Dennis swears that he could recite the differences in each tile due to the amount of bending over he's done
Robby catches sight of the tramp stamp and gets so hard his knees buckle, and he has to hold onto the table in order not to make an absolute fool of himself (Dana sees him and he does indeed make a fool of himself)
Robby takes immense pleasure in having Dennis in the doggy position for the next two weeks, just to see his tramp stamp move. And if he pulls out just when he's going to come so he can release all over Dennis's back and mark him, well, Dennis likes it, so it's fine
huckleabbot facetiming each other đŤśđť
Just saying camboy starker is peak and we should bring that back from the dead đ¤ˇ
please please please more mean dom robby omg the masses beg
mean dom Robby who can let Dennis know he's in trouble after work with just a certain look and head tilt. It sends shivers down Dennis's spine and he spends a lot of time trying to figure out what he did.
mean dom Robby who makes Dennis guess and guess and guess, edging him over and over, taking away every chance for a release until he gets it right.
mean dom Robby who coos over Dennis's tears, wiping them away and saying "Baby, we've barely even started. Save those tears for when I'm fucking you, yeah?"
mean dom Robby who sighs and asks Dennis "Do you think I like doing this? Hurts my heart, baby, but you've got to learn" while Dennis is sobbing and whining over his knee for some minor infraction.
mean dom Robby who knows Dennis hates being bad so he gives Dennis the most impossible tasks to "earn" Robby's meanness.
mean dom Robby who makes Dennis crawl to him and when Dennis whines "But it's embarassing" Robby just says "Then embarass yourself for me"
mean dom Robby who sees Dennis being bratty at work and already has twenty different ways to wrangle the kid back in
mean dom Robby who gives bratty Dennis a light punishment so Dennis has to ask for more, face red, blushing and Robby says "Not enough? Acting up because you need to feel owned for a few days? Okay baby, wouldn't want my little brat to feel all alone"
Pet store adoption- (Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3
When Robby peers into the bedroom, the sight nearly melts his fucking heart.Â
Jack is properly out like a light, head tilted back- not to the side- so his breath catches in soft little snores. The huffs of air catching Dennis' fur on his ears and making it flutter a little.Â
Dennis isn't asleep though, he's curled up around Jack but propped up on one elbow so he can peer at his sleeping face. Not that Robby blames him, he too has been enchanted one too many times by the softness that settles on the features of a sleeping Jack.Â
He leans against the doorframe and watches as Dennis' ears perk up at a particularly loud snore, tilting his head to the side and then back as his ears flop. He grins into his hand as he ties not to laugh, letting it go on for a while before Dennis lift his hand and looks like he's gonna touch Jack's face.Â
"Den," he whispers, low enough that Jack won't wake, and the boy freezes.Â
The Longest Fourteen Hours.
~~
Jack had been in Chicago for exactly fourteen hours. Not that he was counting.
The conference itself had been... fine. The lectures were interesting enough, the keynote speakers delivered their slides with practiced, clinical precision, and the post-panel discussions in the corridors were thoughtful. There were plenty of familiar faces from trauma centers across the country, colleagues he hadn't seen since his residency days, all exchanging business cards and heavy sighing over hospital budgets.
He still would've rather been working a grueling, chaotic night shift back home. Or better yet... just home.
Jack slid his keycard into the electronic lock of his hotel room, waiting for the little light to flash green before pushing the heavy door open. It let out a soft, pressurized click as it swung shut behind him, locking him into a vacuum of total stillness.
Silence. Pure, uninterrupted hotel silence.
He dropped his leather overnight bag onto the luggage rack beside the dark mahogany dresser and let out a long breath, reaching up to loosen the constricting knot of his tie. Pulling it over his head, he tossed it onto the desk. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt, the stiff cotton a stark reminder of the long day spent sitting in cushioned conference hall seats.
The room looked exactly like every other mid-tier corporate conference hotel room he'd ever stayed in during his forty-nine years. Gray, commercial-grade carpet with a faint, geometric pattern. Stiff, bleached-white sheets pulled impossibly tight over a king-sized mattress. A generic desk with an ergonomic chair. A large television mounted to the wall that he knew he'd never turn on.
He leaned his weight slightly to one side, a dull ache throbbing in his residual limb from a full day of navigating carpeted convention floors on his prosthesis without a break. He sighed quietly, resting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the sterile space.
"...Miss you too," he muttered to the empty room.
The sound of his own voice breaking the quiet surprised him. He shook his head, a wry, slightly self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He and Dennis had only been dating for a month. Friends for over a year. Boyfriends for exactly thirty-one days.
It was funny how entirely different those two things felt.
During that first year, they'd somehow slipped into each other's lives without either of them explicitly noticing the shift. It had started with Robby's house while his best friend was away on sabbatical. Three months of co-managing a list of domestic chores - watering a small jungle of house plants, checking the mail, making sure the pipes didn't freeze. It had evolved into drinking burnt coffee at Robby's kitchen island, leaning against the counter in the quiet hours of the evening, and talking long after there was any logical reason to stay.
When Robby finally came home, neither of them had wanted those evenings to end. So, they simply hadn't let them.
Coffee shifted into late-night diner dinners. Dinner became watching terrible movies on the couch. Movies became sacred, unspoken traditions. Somewhere along the way, Jack had completely stopped thinking of Dennis as the resident or the kid from the ER.
He'd just become... Dennis.
Then, a month ago, everything had changed. And yet, looking at it logically, not much had changed at all. They still teased each other ruthlessly in the breakroom. They still watched awful, low-budget horror movies just to mock the dialogue. They still argued over whose turn it was to buy the morning round of espressos.
The only real difference was the quiet spaces. Now, they kissed goodbye before splitting up in the parking lot. They held hands when nobody from the hospital was around to watch. And occasionally, Jack would catch himself just staring at the younger man for no reason at all, captivated by the way the light caught those blonde curls.
Jack smiled to himself, the memory warming the sterile hotel room. He limped slightly over to the desk, setting his MacBook down on the dark wood.
Dennis had probably finished his shift by now, he figured. Unless he and Trinity had gotten bogged down with a late-arriving trauma or a mountain of discharge paperwork. He looked down at his watch, his brow furrowing slightly as he calculated the shift schedules.
No... today was Wednesday. They usually left together on Wednesdays since they were sharing Trinity's car while Dennis's sedan was stuck in the shop awaiting a new alternator. Jack could perfectly picture it: Trinity aggressively throwing Dennis's heavy canvas backpack at his chest because he'd inevitably stayed behind to finish one more chart that could have waited until morning.
The thought brought a genuine, fond smile to his face.
Jack flipped open his laptop, the screen illuminating his face in the dim room. His finger hovered over the trackpad, the cursor drifting aimlessly over the FaceTime icon.
"He's probably busy," Jack murmured aloud, trying to practice a shred of restraint. "Probably halfway through a conversation with Santos."
He tilted the laptop screen down, closing it halfway. He stood there for a moment, staring at the gap.
Thirty seconds later, he let out a low, defeated scoff. He pushed the screen back up.
"...Hell with it."
He clicked the icon.
Dennis was just inserting the key into the passenger side door of Trinityâs car when his phone began to buzz violently in his jacket pocket. He paused, balancing his backpack on his knee as he fished the device out.
The second his eyes hit the screen, a wide, unstoppable smile broke across his face.
Incoming FaceTime Jack
The smile grew, his thumb hovering over the green button.
"Again with that look," a voice cut through the parking lot quiet.
Dennis looked up over the roof of the car. Trinity was leaning heavily against the driver's side door, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, a deeply knowing, highly amused smirk on her face.
"What look?" Dennis asked, trying and failing to drop his expression into something neutral.
"The stupid one."
"I don't have a stupid look, Trin."
"You have a boyfriend calling you after a grand total of fourteen hours apart, and suddenly you're smiling at your phone like a middle schooler," she countered, pointing an accusing finger over the roof.
Dennis bit his inner lip, trying very hard to suppress the grin that was currently taking over his entire face. "I'm not."
"You absolutely are." She gestured toward his hand. "Go answer your boyfriend, Huckleberry."
Dennis let out a soft laugh, turning the key to unlock his door. "I'm driving anyway. I'll just answer when I get his place."
Trinity climbed into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut halfway before pausing to look back at him through the open window. "...Tell Abbot I said hi."
"I will."
"And tell him to bring me back something ridiculously expensive from Chicago. Like a fancy steak or a designer stethoscope."
Dennis snorted, tossing his backpack onto the floorboards. "I don't think cardiology conference gift shops work like that, Trin."
"Well, they should."
---
Ten minutes later, Dennis was walking through the front door. Not of his own (and Trinity's) apartment, but Jack's.
It had quietly, seamlessly become their place over the last four weeks. Dennis still kept the vast majority of his clothes and his toothbrush at his own apartment, but somehow, through a strange gravity he didn't care to fight, he ended up here more nights than not. The space felt familiar now - the smell of Jackâs coffee blend, the organized clutter on the bookshelves, the absolute quiet.
He dropped his heavy backpack by the entryway door, kicked off his sneakers with a sigh of relief, and carried his own laptop over to the kitchen table. The FaceTime notification was still hovering on his screen, a persistent digital bridge across state lines.
He clicked answer.
The screen flickered for a brief second before Jack's face materialized. He was wearing a soft, faded blue T-shirt that Dennis knew was incredibly worn at the collar. His short, curly black-and-white hair was slightly messy, clearly indicating he'd been running his fingers through it all afternoon. The generic hotel wallpaper loomed behind him.
Dennis leaned into the screen, his expression softening completely. "...Hi."
Jack looked up from whatever he had been reading on his desk. The moment his green eyes locked onto Dennis, the tight line of his shoulders dropped, his face melting into that quiet, private way of looking at Dennis that the younger man had come to absolutely crave.
"...Hey."
A long, comfortable silence settled over the connection. Dennis rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his blonde curls spilling slightly over his forehead. Hundreds of miles away, Jack mirrored the posture, leaning his elbow onto the hotel desk, his green eyes steady and warm.
"...Conference going okay?" Dennis finally asked, his voice low.
Jack gave a small, unenthusiastic shrug. "I've listened to six separate lectures today."
"Were they at least good?"
"They all explained the fundamental mechanics of severe thoracic trauma," Jack deadpanned.
Dennis nodded sympathetically, a playful glint in his eye. "To a room entirely comprised of board-certified trauma doctors."
"Mhm."
"Ouch."
Jack's mouth twitched, a slow, genuine smile breaking through his exhaustion.
Dennis laughed softly at the expression. "What?"
"Nothing," Jack murmured, though his eyes gave him away.
"No, come on, you've got the face."
"What face?"
"The one where you're pretending you're not smiling because you think it makes you look stoic and professional," Dennis teased, shifting his weight.
Jack looked away from the camera for a brief second, clearing his throat, though the corner of his mouth was still hooked upward. "I wasn't smiling."
"Liar."
"I've been called worse by better residents."
Dennis laughed again, the sound bright and resonant through the tinny laptop speakers.
God, Jack had missed that laugh. It was ridiculous - it had been less than a day - but the sudden ache of missing it hit him harder than he care to admit.
Dennis tilted his head, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shift in Jack's expression. "...You okay, Jack? You look tired."
Jack looked back at the camera, his gaze softening further. "...Yeah. Just regular conference fatigue."
"You sure?"
Another small, quiet shrug from the hotel room. Jack hesitated, his fingers tracing a mindless pattern against the edge of his desk. He wasn't usually one for admitting vulnerability easily, but the distance was making him honest.
"...I just wanted to see you," Jack admitted quietly.
Dennis blinked. The casual, playful air completely dissolved, his expression turning incredibly soft, his chest tightening with a sudden, overwhelming wave of affection. "...Yeah?"
Jack nodded once, his green eyes holding Dennis's gaze through the screen. "I know it's only been a single day."
"Fourteen hours, technically," Dennis corrected gently.
"...Felt longer."
Dennis smiled, his voice dropping an octave. "...I kinda wanted to see you too. Your place feels too big without you limping around it."
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. They didn't need to fill the space. It was absurd, really; they had spent nearly every single day together for the last twelve months inside the high-stress pressure cooker of the hospital. A few days apart shouldn't have felt this entirely destabilizing. And yet, it did. The boundaries had shifted, and the empty space next to them felt noticeably colder.
Dennis finally broke the spell, pushing himself up from the kitchen table. "Hang on. Don't go anywhere."
He picked up the MacBook, balancing it carefully in one hand as he carried it into the adjacent kitchen, setting it down on the clean countertop.
"What're you making?" Jack asked, watching the movement with interest.
"I was thinking grilled cheese," Dennis said, opening the refrigerator to scout for ingredients.
"You were thinking?"
"I haven't fully committed to the dairy aspect yet," Dennis argued, pulling out a block of cheddar and the butter dish. "It's a process."
Jack nodded with mock solemnity. "Big decision. Crucial dinner metrics."
Dennis rolled his eyes, a stray blonde curl falling into his face as he sliced the bread. "I know. High stakes. Don't pressure me, Dr. Abbot."
He set the laptop closer to the stove, chatting aimlessly while he ran a knife over the butter. They talked about absolutely nothing of substance - a terrified first-year medical student Trinity had absolutely terrorized earlier that morning by drilling them on obscure lower-extremity anatomy; a senior surgeon at the Chicago conference who had somehow managed to speak for forty solid minutes during a panel without actually making a single coherent point.
Distracted by Jack's voice, Dennis absentmindedly closed the butter dish, walked past the refrigerator, and slid the real butter straight onto a shelf in the dry pantry next to the cereal.
Through the camera, Jackâs eyes tracked the movement instantly. A fond, amused frown creased his brow.
"...Dennis."
"Hm?" Dennis asked, reaching for the spatula.
"The butter."
Dennis looked around the counter, confused. "What about it?"
"You just put it in the pantry next to the oatmeal."
Dennis paused, blinking heavily at the dry goods shelf before opening the pantry door. "Oh." He pulled it out, a flush of sheepish color rising on his neck as he laughed at his own brain-fry. "Jesus. I'm tired."
"I can see that," Jack said softly, his voice washing over Dennis like a warm blanket. "Pay attention to what you're doing."
A few minutes passed, the conversation dropping into a comfortable, quiet hum as the smell of toasting bread filled the kitchen. But Dennis got caught up staring at Jack's face on the screen, listening to him describe a new trauma protocol, completely losing track of time.
A thin, dark ribbon of smoke began curling up from the edges of the cast-iron skillet.
Jackâs green eyes widened slightly on the screen. "Den'."
Dennis looked up automatically, his brain instantly short-circuiting at the casual tone. "What?"
"I think your sandwich is actively on fire."
Dennis spun around, his eyes going wide as he saw the gray smoke rising from the pan. "Oh...oh, shit!" He lunged for the stove, slamming the burner dial to off. "My grilled cheese!"
He frantically hoisted the skillet off the heat, coughing slightly as he flipped the bread over to reveal a completely blackened, carbonized surface.
From the laptop, Jack couldn't help it. He let out a low, rumbling laugh - not loud, not mocking, but entirely rich and full of affection.
Dennis pointed the smoking spatula directly at the camera lens, his face burning red.
"You are absolutely, under no circumstances, allowed to laugh at me right now."
"I didn't say a word," Jack insisted, raising his hands in mock defense, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You didn't have to say anything," Dennis grumbled, scraping at the charred bread. "The smoke did it for you."
"The smoke made a very compelling argument."
Dennis shook his head, though a faint smile was threatening to ruin his irritated facade. "I definitely liked you better this morning when you were boarding your flight."
"No, you didn't."
Dennis paused, looking at the handsome face on his screen, the short curls, the warm green eyes that looked at him like he was the only thing in the room. He let his shoulders drop. "...Probably not."
Jack's smile lingered, softening into something deeply intimate. Then, almost entirely absentmindedly, his voice dropping into that low, protective register he used when they were entirely alone, he said, "You should probably eat something that isn't pure charcoal, baby."
Silence.
The word hung in the air between Chicago and the apartment, heavy and sudden.
Jack stopped speaking mid-breath. Dennis froze, the spatula hovering an inch above the ruined sandwich. The only sound in the kitchen was the faint, cooling hiss of the hot cast-iron stove.
Jack blinked, a rare flash of genuine panic darting through his green eyes. He cleared his throat roughly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he looked down at his desk. "...I... sorry."
Dennis frowned slightly, his heart doing a strange, sudden flip in his chest. "For what?"
"That..." Jack gestured vaguely toward the camera, his ears distinctly pink. "The... the word. It slipped out. We've only been doing this a month, I didn't mean to crowd you or..."
Dennis looked down at the kitchen counter, his own cheeks warming intensely. A slow, incredibly bright smile spread across his face, chasing away every ounce of his post-shift exhaustion.
"...I liked it," Dennis murmured quietly.
Jack looked up, his green eyes searching Dennis's face through the digital feed, looking immensely relieved. "Yeah?"
Dennis nodded, his smile widening as he tucked a stray blonde curl behind his ear. "Yeah. I liked it a lot, Jack."
Another quiet settled over the connection, but this time, it was thick with a sweet, domestic warmth that neither of them felt the slightest need to rush. Dennis leaned back against the counter, his eyes fixed on the man on his screen.
Finally, Dennis took a breath, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against his knee. "Can... I tell you something?"
"Always," Jack said instantly, leaning closer to his laptop.
"I've... well, I've been wanting to call you something, too."
Jack raised an eyebrow, a teasing, intrigued glint returning to his eyes. "Oh? Do tell, Dr. Whitaker."
Dennis looked suddenly struck by a wave of intense embarrassment, his eyes darting toward the kitchen window. "Never mind. It's stupid."
"Dennis."
"Nope. Forget I said anything. The concussion from med-school is finally hitting me."
"Den'," Jack repeated, his voice firm but laced with deep amusement. "Out with it."
Dennis groaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands for a brief second before looking back at the screen, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "...Jackie."
Jack blinked. The room seemed to go entirely still.
"Jackie?"
Dennis immediately slammed both hands over his face, completely hiding his burning cheeks. "Oh my God," his voice came out entirely muffled through his fingers.
"I can stop. I will literally never say it again. I'll delete my own contact info."
Jack was quiet for a long moment. Dennis peeked through the small gap between his fingers, his heart hammering against his ribs.
On the screen, a slow, genuine, completely unmistakable smile was spreading across Jackâs face, warming his green eyes until they practically shone under the dim hotel lighting.
"No," Jack said softly, shaking his head.
Dennis lowered his hands just a fraction. "No?"
Jack shook his head again, his smile widening. "Don't stop. I like it..."
Dennis let out a long, breathless laugh of pure, unadulterated relief, his shoulders sinking back down. "...Really?"
"Really, baby."
They smiled at each other across two glowing laptop screens, miles of highway and cold state lines separating them, yet completely connected in the quiet of the night. Neither of them said the words out loud - it was too soon, too fragile, too sacred to rush - but as Dennis turned back to ruin a second piece of bread and Jack watched him with an uncovered, helpless devotion, they were both thinking the exact same thing.
Maybe... just maybe... they were getting pretty damn good at this boyfriend thing after all.
itâs so hard to share huckleberry icecream
p2 â> p1
cucking. popewhit. ftm dennis. smut.
Puppy Dennis & Park
Uh I got carried away, but I really liked the idea of Park, like everyone else, falling victim to Whitaker's inevitable charm. This is a ramble and completely unedited. :) I think of this as a part of my other Puppy!Dennis drabbles where he's kind of a traumatized rescue.
Mmmm Abbot and Robby being old friends with Park the Shark and they have him over to watch the game and have some beers.
Puppy Dennis who is not a fan, immediately. As soon as Park arrives he's hiding behind the couch, ears flat and tail tucked.
His intuition is only confirmed when Park huffs and makes an offhanded comment. "Not a very polite puppy. You guys never shut up about how sweet he is," Park grumbled.
Dennis felt his shoulders hunch as he tried to make himself smaller, ashamed. He was Jack and Robby's good boy. He tried so hard to be their good boy, but no bone in his body wanted to go greet the tall, severe-looking man.
"He is a sweet puppy, and he's shy," Abbot said pointedly as he grabbed drinks for them.
"Be nice, and maybe you'll earn that sweetness," Robby added. Park scoffed.
Tw: somno
And may I be perverted and free enough to say that kisses during somnophilia are my favorite Robby kissing an unconscious Dennis who obviously does not reciprocate but his mouth is open and relaxed Robby salivates all over the boyâs mouth spits on him, sucks his tongue basically eating him atp, soo nasty it shouldnât even be considered a kiss. Ofc he does this after eating dennisâ cunt like a starved man, he wants to taste Dennis for days and his beard gets very wet all the time.
omega Dennis who didn't like how people, mostly alphas, treated omegas. to be kept locked up at home, no matter how comfortable the home may be, sounded like a nightmare. he wanted to be out; he wanted to live a life of his own he didn't want to tie himself an alpha
unfortunately, the alphas around him seemed convinced they could change that, make him give up everything and agree to be kept in a golden cage, and bare pups..He didn't care for any of them frankly, but he wasn't above using their underestimation of his capabilities. let them feel like they're taking care of him, to give himself a break. Trinity, his beta best friend said he should take any upper hand he could and the only advantage he had was that he was a young beautiful omega
its not like he wants to be alone all his life, it seems like none of these alphas know what kind of life he'd like. they all expected him to look for someone to "take care" of him so he wouldn't have to work anymore. He Liked his job actually; he wanted to work.
he wasn't above leveraging that delusion to get a leg up.
so what if he flirts with his attendings and gets full and total control of his and his roommate's schedule? It'd be their fault for letting him have such a bias towards him.
and if he used it to get cases he wanted, what could they do? tell Langdon he should've been quicker, or at least not have given it to the omega, it was his choice after all, he can't complain.
what if he not so subtly talks about things he's been wanting to get? it's not his fault the alphas around him, mostly abbot, felt it was their solemn duty to give him exactly what he wants
hes not doing anything wrong by going out on dates with them and picking the most expencive places that he wouldnt be able to go to by himself, or by ordering something extra to take for trinity. Shens the ones that wanted to go out with him
CW: (mild) Gender Dysphoria, F-slur usages (but in an F-slur affirming way đ đź)
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Robby was see-sawing Dennis with Jack laying on his back, Robbyâs thick happy trail was rubbing delicious frictions on Dennisâs reddened tcock, the addictive slicked massaging that Jackâs cock was giving against his own.
The men were in heaven.
But they caught on pretty quickly when it sounded like Dennis was holding himself back for some reason. The hiccupings breaths whenever their pubes slided down far enough to drag coarse hair across his puffy lips, the lovely whines and babbles coming out of the boyâs mouth as they feel his walls fluttering, the telltale sign of an incoming orgasm were swallowed down.
Now he grunted and groaned, verbally suppressing himself every time a cock hammered in that specific spot inside him or a hairy belly grinded down on his erect tip.
âWhat wrong, baby? Wonât you let me and Jack hear you?â
When Dennis only offered an annoyed growl as answers, Robby slowed down and breaking the tempo of his thrusts as Jack unkindly followed suit, meaty shafts now moving in tandem, pushing Dennisâs fat tcock up and down as his hole swelled and deflated, instead of the smooth slidings in and out, following one after the other just a moment ago, wrenching away the boyâs impending orgasm like taking away treats away from a pupâs mouth just as they were about to dive in the food.
âF- fuck! Canât- I- I sound like a fucking g- girl- urgh!â was all they can hear from Dennisâs frustrated snarl at them, at himself.
Oh. Oh.
