Pope who finds dennis living on the streets of ocean side and feels some weird soft spot for him so he takes him in and lets him stay at his little house away from his family mess.
But he accidently ends up keeping dennis as more of a dog then a roommate.. like he starts telling him when he can go out and who he can hang out with. But he just keeps limiting it till his basically got dennis locked in the house all the time.
Not that dennis minds being his silly little pup and lounging around on the couch all day waiting for his owmer to come back to feed him and give hik his reward for being such a good boy that day..
does anyone have any fic recs where dennis doesn’t know he’s queer? like he’s legit coming out to himself for the first time. any ship/no ship is fine.
Wrote it last night and then Passed Out. But uhhh everyone have Dennis taking two “Am I Gay?” quizzes and then immediately having a crisis about it.
“Am I Gay?” Quizzes Ruined My Life
Incomplete as of now! Either one or two more chapters to be added! Mostly self discovery for Dennis plus WhitSantos as best friends. They’re set. Do not separate.
dennis worrying himself sick over his attachment to robby. he knows he's basically obsessed with the man— addicted to every touch, every praise, always needy, always desperate for attention. robby lives in every crevice of his mind, a constant loop, a bodily need as deep as air and water. sometimes he fantasizes about robby retiring, taking him away from pittsburgh, isolating him, keeping him. narrowing his whole world down to robby, only robby.
he's so ashamed of it, of how deep it runs. so, curled up with robby in bed, guilt sitting heavy in his stomach, he admits to it. whispers it against robby's chest, eyes squeezed shut like he can hide from the depth of it. I think I'm like... obsessed with you. robby chuckling, murmuring is that so? and dennis doubling down, insisting no, like, robby, I'm— dependent on you. completely. it's bad, it's like— if I didn't have you I would die, or something. I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm sorry.
robby humming soft, gathering dennis up in his arms, cradling him closer. quiet for a moment, rubbing slow circles over dennis's back, soothing his discomfort. chuckling again. oh, baby, I know. I should hope so. I thought I'd have to break you in a little more, but... it's like you came pre-made, especially for me. there's nothing wrong with you, little mouse, there's something very, very right. you're a very good boy for needing me.
dennis relaxing into robby's grip, shame dissipating, nuzzling weakly against robby's chest. maybe it should scare him, the admittance that robby knows, has known, this whole time. the admittance that robby would've broken him in, if dennis hadn't been so willing. yeah, maybe it should scare him, but it doesn't. all his brain latches onto is
Poison On Your Tongue by Arabella Faith, rated E, hucklerobby, 15k words, complete
Please please PLEASE mind the tags. This fic features a toxic relationship, noncon, gaslighting, kidnapping, b*tching, and all sorts of dark themes. Having said that, it's actually fairly light considering the content matter. Hucklerobby end up deliriously in love 🤷♀️ so... Yay?
back on my bullshit again with stalker hucklerabbot and i'm obsessed with you phrasing jack's attitude towards dennis in the early days as being "why is it on the bed". so fucking tasty. i'm having visions of dennis becoming obsessed with jack's petty meanness because it's the perfect counterpart to robby's obsession- what do you mean jack is indifferent to him being here? what do you mean jack somewhat doesn't want him here? i think dennis' obsession with jack starts in him desperately trying to get and keep jack's attention on him, since jack is being so mean and denying him that.
also having major bootlicker visions later on with them. stealing dirty underwear and gym clothes isn't enough for this pup- dennis craves worshipping the very ground jack walks on. he wants to get his tongue all over that dirty leather just as much as he wants jack to step on him with them, to leave bruises on his skin in the pattern of those boots' tread. jack, who's only just starting to warm up to dennis as he's realizing how pathetic this mutt is, how he could never be a threat to him, indulges happily. after all, he's still got some pent up irritation from the worry of robby changing his patterns.
robby in the background starts off distressed that dennis and jack can't seem to get along, until he sees that boot print on dennis' chest and knows it's going to be alright. he's known jack for a very long time, and no matter what the man says, he never bothers to mark up something he doesn't plan on keeping. that's how he kept robby, after all.
- :)
so this is the prequel piece to them drugging and forcing Robby to stay home. I love this verse. I love your mind.
The thing Dennis loves most about Robby is how much Robby adores him.
No-one would go to all that effort if they didn't love him. The cameras, and the gifts. Sitting outside his house for hours and hours at night, just to catch a glimpse of him through the windows.
It's … fuck, it's intoxicating. He's never felt so deeply loved. Wanted. Robby makes him feel like he's the only man in the world, and … well, he loves it. Sue him, he's the baby of a deeply religious large family whose parents didn't believe in condoms. By the time everything made its way down to him - clothes, toys, books - they were fourth-hand and tatty.
He never had anything new, or that was just for him. Attention was never directly solely at him - he had to share it with three brothers and a working farm. When he got to school, he was always 'the youngest Whitaker boy'. Never allowed to stand alone in his own right.
Robby, though. Robby looks at him and sees only him. Robby is … like a spotlight. He buys Dennis whatever the hell he wants, and things he couldn't even imagine asking for. Things brand new, all for him. Just because it makes Dennis happy, and that makes Robby happy.
When Robby fucks him, it's about him. Every word, every touch, is about how perfect Dennis is for Robby. Sometimes, Dennis records the audio - he assumes Robby knows, but he's never asked. But he just - sometimes he needs to hear it back again.
So fucking perfect for me, baby. My sweet boy. My gorgeous boy. Gonna make you feel so good. Been wanting you for so long, God, can't believe you're mine, mine, mine, mine.
It's hot, yeah, but it's a reminder that Robby loves him.
Robby's husband?
Does not love him.
They have an arrangement, Robby tells him. Jack lets him play with whatever new toy he likes, indulge the piece of himself that needs to fixate, obsess, take. The obsession usually fizzles out once Robby gets his dick in them.
Dennis panics for a second that he'll become like that - just another toy to be thrown away, but Robby assures him, no, baby. You're different. You're special. You're just like me.
It's strange, fucking a man with a husband. Being so desperately, painfully in love with a man with a husband. But, Jack … tolerates having him around.
Tolerates might be a strong word. It looks as if they definitely do have an arrangement - Jack will come home to Dennis bouncing on Robby's cock, and will roll his eyes, but say nothing. Let them continue on like he's not pottering around in the kitchen behind them.
But he does not like Dennis. He's made that very clear.
Dennis curls up in their bed, post-fuck, while Robby showers. He's soft, and blissed out, and all he wants is to feel arms around him.
Instead, Jack enters the bedroom, eyes him, and calls out to Robby.
"What's it doing on the bed, Michael."
It.
He feels something curl in his belly. Something like shame. Or arousal. He gets those mixed up sometimes. Wires crossed.
"Don't be cruel, Jack, let him stay!" Robby calls back out, over the spray of the shower. Jack looks sour. He toes off his boots, peels himself out of his clothes, and fuck, he is beautiful.
Dennis can't stop staring.
"Move," Jack orders, voice hard.
Dennis startles. He's so warm and comfortable, though. And Robby left him here, he doesn't want to move.
Jack unstraps his leg, and uses it to nudge at Dennis, not especially gentle. Dennis moves, right down to the end of the bed, over the duvet, where he's pushed.
Jack takes his place at the top of the sheets. He glares at Dennis the entire time.
"If you're staying," Jack snaps at him. "You stay down there."
Like he's some unwanted dog.
Dennis is hurt.
Jack doesn't like him? Jack doesn't want him here? But Robby loves him so much. He's getting used to that feeling. The feeling of being loved. Adored. He doesn't want to give that up.
No, this won't do. He can make Jack like him. He will make Jack like him.
The new obsession blossoms. He has Robby. He wants something new. He wants Jack.
He's a nice boy, he knows that. Sweet, and charming, and clever. Sure, he has a few quirks. He's getting off on knowing that Jack's husband is so obsessed with him he sleeps with his cum-stained underwear sometimes. But they're just quirks.
Dennis is loveable. And he'll show Jack that.
It's not easy, and that just makes him want it all the more. Jack has absolutely no interest in him. The more time Dennis spends at their apartment, in their home, curled up with Robby or suckling at his cock while Jack watches hockey beside them - the more Jack ignores him.
"Jack," he murmurs, on the floor at Robby's feet.
Nothing.
"Jack," he tries again. Robby's watching the two of them, quiet. "Can I - can I blow you?"
The man finally looks down at him, but it's with a flick of disdainful eyes, before they return to the screen.
"No," Jack says flatly. "Be quiet."
Robby looks deeply disappointed, and leans over to murmur something in Jack's ear. Whatever it was, it makes the man scowl.
"If you want to keep your pet in here, you can entertain it," he tells Robby, and Dennis visibly deflates.
So he tries a different tack. He can get Jack's attention other ways. He steals the man's boxers out of the dirty laundry, a day at a time, until every pair is sequestered away in his hideyhole in the guest room.
Jack stalks in, goes right to it, like he's known it's there the entire time, and retrieves them. Dennis is hoping for a reaction. Shouting, maybe Jack will rub his nose in it. That would be something.
But the man only shoots him a withering look, and shoves the boxers into the washer without a word.
God fucking dammit.
Dennis' obsession rises to truly unhealthy levels. Robby tries to talk to him about it. Make him understand that Jack is feeling a little jealous. A little threatened. He's been Robby's husband for decades, and none of Robby's little flings have ever stuck around as long as Dennis.
He can understand that. He doesn't want to be a threat. He just needs Jack to accept him.
He tries harder to find something Jack might want from him. He does every chore in the house, before either of the other two can get to them. Leaves it sparkling clean, tidy, every dish washed.
Jack makes more mess.
He waits, naked in bed, for Jack to come home from his night shift. He's got himself ready, plugged, so Jack can just take.
"For fuck's sake," the man swears when he opens the bedroom door and finds Dennis. "Out. Get out."
"But I - "
"Out."
He slinks out.
This goes on for months. Months. Dennis wants, and tries, and gets rejected, over and over again. Robby licks his wounds, assures him that Jack will come around, that he has no intention of letting Dennis go anywhere.
It's only when Robby is called, last minute, to the hospital to cover an attending shift, and Dennis and Jack are left alone in the apartment together, that something changes.
Dennis had been planning on an evening of keeping Robby's cock in his mouth for hours. He'd been looking forward to it. He had the ibuprofen ready for the ache in his jaw and everything.
And now, he's just sitting on the sofa next to Jack, the both of them deeply uncomfortable.
"Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't think he'd - "
"Obviously you didn't," Jack snaps. "You couldn't have guessed he'd get called in."
If it weren't the poisonous tone, it could almost be something halfway to pleasant.
Dennis huffs.
"I know why you don't like me," he says, fed up. "I'm sorry that Robby loves me, but he does, and I love him too. And I don't want to take him from you! I, like, probably couldn't. He's been married to you for a million fucking years. So just. Why are you still on my ass?"
Jack turns his head, slow, to watch him.
It's like watching a predator size up prey.
"You," he says finally, slow. "Are a fucking pain in my ass."
He looks between Dennis and the floor.
"Sit. Go on."
And Dennis moves, fast, onto the floor, because this is the first time Jack has ever told him to do something beyond fuck off.
Jack nudges him onto his back, and so he lays, flat, his chest thumping. He has no fucking idea what's about to happen, and he's so excited he might burst.
Jack shifts slightly on the sofa, lifting his leg. The prosthetic is balanced against the side. He's still wearing his boots. He barely ever takes them off, Dennis has noticed. They're special, apparently.
The boot lifts, and then - and Dennis isn't sure he's even seeing this right - it's coming down to press, hard, against his chest.
He sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn't dare move.
"Stay," Jack orders.
He stays.
The boot presses down against his sternum, not hard enough to cut off air, but hard enough that the pressure is - fuck, it's something.
"Don't move, pup," Jack warns him, when he starts to squirm just slightly. Not because he wants to escape the almost painful pressure, but. Well, because he's hard.
He gazes at the boot pressing him down into the ground. It's not very clean. Jack should take better care of these. Dennis' mouth goes dry. He could take better care of these.
Jack does absolutely nothing else to him, that night. Barely speaks to him. But when he finally lets his foot up, and Dennis gets to his knees, the man isn't quite as hostile. He watches Dennis, and finally hauls himself up with his crutches. Turns, makes his way toward the bedroom.
"Well?" he asks over his shoulder, when Dennis stays put. "Coming?"
Dennis sleeps blissfully beside Jack, only just barely touching.
It takes weeks for Jack to loosen up enough to let Dennis take his foot gently, rest it on his own knee.
"What are you doing?" Jack asks, watching. He isn't moving, or tugging away.
"Cleaning," Dennis says, and lowers his head to the boot. He flicks his tongue out, and the taste of well-worn leather, dust and dirt. He moans, unable to stop himself, and his tongue widens out into eager laves.
Jack looks down at him, brow raised.
"Why?" he asks, sounding amused. Robby is watching from the other sofa, his mouth curled into a smile.
"Because he likes you, Jack," he says, fond. "And he takes care of the things he likes. Isn't that right, baby?"
Dennis nods, without letting up. The leather taste, rich and deep on his tongue, is stronger with every swipe, the grime of the day washed away.
"Hm," Jack hums. He waits until the boot is spit-shiny, and then tosses Dennis the other one, tugged off the prosthetic. "Good boy."
sorry but fuuuck I'm thinking about pervy robby again. manipulative pervy robby using dennis as his stress relief throughout the shift. pulling him into a bathroom stall and forcing him on his knees, murmuring a quiet open and waiting for dennis to obey, all hesitant and shaky, slowly parting his pretty pink lips.
dennis so uneasy with it, but he'd never dream of saying no. it's not like he's not attracted to robby, of course he is, it's just— it curls icky in his gut, and he's ashamed at the wet spot in his boxers that forms every time he's being used. knowing that robby's using him. and still not bringing himself to make it all stop. not wanting it to stop, even though maybe he should.
robby being such a dick about it, holding it over dennis's head. muffling a soft groan as he taps the head of his cock against den's tongue, slowly slides inside that perfect, wet heat. cradling the back of den's head with a big palm. petting him soft before he forces himself down dennis's tight throat, ignoring the splutters, the tears that form in dennis's pretty blue eyes, the muffled whimpers.
robby thumbing away the tears and muttering gotta keep it quiet, baby, shh, shh. wouldn't want anyone to know you're whoring yourself out to your boss, huh? wouldn't want them finding out exactly why you're my favorite? shh, shh... thaaat's it, attaboy, just take it... mm, you're a good doctor, sweetheart, but you make a better fuckhole. yeahh, that's okay, you can cry. such a pretty baby when you cry. <3
That scene in lady and the tramp where puppy lady is crying when she’s left downstairs until her owners let her stay in their room.
Thats dennis in a rabbot brings him home au. He’s so used to having to be hyper vigilant in his sleep that he keeps waking up on the couch (their guest room is largely storage) quietly whimpering in fear having been startled awake by something.
And Jack has sensitive hearing for the most part, and robby’s nerves are fraued after today so he’s also easily woken - just waiting for the next disaster to happen - so after they’re both woken up by dennis’s crying for the nth time that night, jack (gently) whacks robby to get him to check on the boy.
Hearing someone approach has Dennis in a panic for a moment before he remembers where he is, but the fear doesn’t dissipate completely and shame also blooms as Robby approaches, sitting by his legs on the sofa as he sits up. Robby only asks if Dennis is okay and then he’s sniffling again, pushing his hands into his eyes in what must be a painful way until robby pries them off. He brushes Dennis’s short hair back, not doing anything really, but the boy still melts into it. They sit like that for a moment before Robby is sighing “alright” and begins getting up. A whine begins to fall out of Dennis’s throat when Robby is hauling him up and pulling him into the bedroom.
Jack is still lying down when they enter, only slightly lifting his head, and pats the space next to him. Dennis hesitates for a moment, but then Robby is nudging him forward, and God he’s so fucking tired. Falling into bed with his attendings shouldnt be as easy as it is.
Jack’s strong arms wrap him up immediately, pulling his back flush against his warm chest, and he is quickly sandwiched by Robby who throws a lazy hand over the pair of them. Jack presses his face into his neck, sleepily murmuring, “oh, just a scared puppy, we shouldnt have left you all alone, poor baby. It’s okay, you’re here now, you can sleep now pup.”
And maybe dennis should be embarrassed about the whine he let out, at the way he snuggled deeper into Jack’s body, at the goose bumps that rose all over his body when robby moved his arm to stroke him up and down his sides. He probably would tomorrow. But all he can think about now is how safe and warm he feels, and how his head has finally stopped buzzing and how he can finally drift off to sleep.
robby and jack plotting on dennis since the day the kid stepped foot into the er finally building up the courage to do something about it.
robby overhearing from a conversation between their boy and santos about heading to some bar after shift, and knowing it's a perfect-in. enlisting one of him and jack's old friends from their days in the scene to give dennis some trouble.
it's just a coincidence that santos ends up leaving the bar with some woman, leaving dennis alone and nursing something that burns too much for his tastes (robby should've known the kid could only handle fruity cocktails, look at him, he's just a baby, when he bought it, though he knows it wouldn't be strong enough to hide the sedative). it's just a coincidence that when this 'stranger' starts making unwanted advances, getting too touchy, all up in dennis' face and body, a few gropes made here and there, that dennis is frozen in shock, fear maybe. unable to defend himself. he's never been wanted like this before, how should he know what to do? it's just a coincidence robby's been watching from some secluded corner of the bar the whole time, waiting. moves in just like him and jack had scripted, tells the guy to fuck off, maybe threatens him a bit for good measure, watching over dennis' shoulder as their friend smirks as he leaves.
robby fawning over dennis, concerned, all while the kid babbles how he's okay, he's fine, just a little shaken 's all.
he says he'll find santos, she'll take him, before raking his eyes over the bar and not seeing her in sight, his eyebrows dropping in embarrassment.
bingo.
robby offers to take him home, says it's no trouble, he was just about to head out anyways. says dennis should herd a little closer to him on the way out, just for protection, if it happened once, it could happen again.
(and him and jack didn't want their baby boy coming home to them as damaged goods, now did they?)
the whole drive dennis is thanking him every few seconds, for making the guy back off, for the ride, for saving him.
too busy metaphorically groveling at robby's feet, he doesn't notice how many turns they miss to get back to his apartment. doesn't realize til they're parked in the driveway of robby's townhome, a light on in the bedroom.
dennis feels hazy. his head all syrupy and slow as robby guides him out of the car, hand on the small of his back, breaths of hot air and stubble scratching against his ear as robby whispers something that dennis can't hear. all muffled, the only thing clear to him is the amount of non-distance between him and his boss.
he thinks he falls asleep sometime between then and the door.
wakes up to meaty thighs pressing hard against his stomach, large knees occasionally pressing into his cunt. it's not as noticeable though, a distant afterthought maybe, as the blooming burn across his ass, cold air lapping at the reds and pinks before another slap lands down.
all he can do is whimper and whine and he's so confused, where is he, why is he here, where's ro—
he gets his answer when he manages to lift his heavy, heavy head, the stinging spanks weakening his whole body letting up for just a second.
robby sits in the corner of whatever fucking room they're in, some book in his hands, glasses sliding down his nose, head tilted down while his eyes are blown black as he stares at dennis. he looks unimpressed.
dennis tries to say something, honest to god, tries. fucking wants to will something out of his throat, but all that bubbles up is another pathetic whine. he sounds like a dog.
robby shakes his head in disapproval, eyes returning back to his book.
"tsk. y'know how your dad feels about curfew, baby. shoulda listened."
da—?
he manages to lift his head a little more, looking over his shoulder, faltering a little when the spanks resume.
he sees pale skin, freckles, biceps flexing under a tee as the arm holding them comes back up to hit and rub, hit and rub, hit and rub again. sees grey curls and crows feet.
"let some stranger feel up on ya."
the low growl is something dennis hasn't heard from dr. abbot the whole time he's been at ptmc, something primal and possessive.
"interrupted your daddy's time out, all stressed from raising a little shit like you, and you expect no consequences?"
dennis tries pushing himself up, more nervous and scared and confused than he was with the guy at the bar, but he's plunged back down again, yowling as another slap comes down harder.
"you wanna be a big boy?" abbot snarls, "go out and act like a man? a brat? a slut? then you're gonna get big boy punishments, hm? you can take it, right?"
the last sentence is so falsely sweet, mocking even, that dennis tears up. babbles for him to stop, wait, i don't—, wha—?, shuts his eyes tight as white floods behind them, trying to focus on that to shut out the pain, to shut out everything.
doesn't even notice robby get up from his chair, or his fly becoming unzipped, or his cock being pulled out til it's prodding at dennis' lips.
"c'mon, kiddo," the false sweet dripping from abbot's lips like nectar, "apologize to daddy."
dennis' eyes remain shut as he finally relents after a few seconds, after he feels that calloused hand leave his ass, raising up for another strike, opening his mouth just wide enough for the head of robby's cock to be pushed in.
jack glances at robby over the kid.
bratty, yeah. nothin' we can't handle. just needs some training.
(this got away from me i am so sorry.)
i. i have nothing to add except hell yeah. incredible. 10/10. no notes.
your writing's so good i've been thinking about it for HOURSSSSS
i submit for this au: the idea of meltdown vs tantrum :3
meltdowns are normal for little boys who have Big Emotions about his dads leaving him for work, about having to take a bath or go to bed without his favorite blanket. they can be solved by giving dennis a stuffed bear that has his dad's voice in one arm and his daddy's in the other so he can still hear their voices if he misses one of them. they can be solved by his daddy holding him close and cuddling him, dennis listening to his heartbeat and the vibrations of his voice. they can be solved by his dad keeping dennis in his lap, feeding him with the baby-safe utensils dennis has to settle for and pausing only to clean his face or kiss him. it's about the comfort and reminder that he's safe and oh so loved by his dads here.
but Tantrums...those are saved for truly bad days where dennis can't bottle anything up anymore, swiping at any arms that come close to him and working himself up over everyone and everything he misses that he's supposed to just forget about. missing trinity and her apartment (having his own ROOM all to himself where no one watches him and it locks from the inside!!) so much he makes himself physically ill. he misses seeing her, having someone who cared about him and Didn't want some fucked up dynamic out of it...the idea that robby and jack---actively policing his thoughts to make sure he doesn't slip in remembering who they Really are---can go into work and not feel haunted or guilty at what they're putting trinity through by dennis just being Gone all of a sudden...he thinks he might hate them for that. coming out of the fuzzy daze and ache celebrating father's day gave him and remembering his Actual father---feeling disgusted at himself for not trying harder to escape---for feeling Comfortable at points. those are all meltdown thought patterns and those can go for hours or an entire day. sharp displeasure and anxiety that leave his tongue with intent to hurt or just be Heard... or the equally heavy sullen withdrawn dead weight where Nothing seems to make dennis feel better, or even respond at all.
meltdowns are more frequent than tantrums, thankfully.
EXACTLY EXACTLYYYY
Meltdowns happen a lot, mainly because Dennis is, as his daddy puts it, "A fussy little thing." He likes his routines and his rules and his schedule. He clings to the normalcy that he can get and protect in this new role, this new life. The normalcy of daddy works Monday through Thursday, and every other Sunday. Dad works three on, three off, and occasionally an extra fourth. When daddy has to go in on a day he's not supposed to, that's a meltdown; tears and fast sobs and fists curled up in daddy's shirt because he's supposed to be home today, not at work, not away from Dennis.
Meltdowns happen when he's not ready for bed yet because dad hasn't left for work so he can't go lay down. When the one plate he likes to use is still dirty, when dad has to put him to bed alone because daddy isn't home yet, when his blanket is still in the wash for naptime, when it's raining outside so he can't go play, when the toys he wants have been put away because of a previous behavior issue; those are meltdowns.
Those are usually easy fixes. A few well placed kisses and cuddles stop the tears from flowing. Dad can grab one of daddy's shirts to substitute his blanket. Daddy can pull him into his lap and feed him by hand. They can distract and persuade and pull Dennis away from those teary, hiccuping sobs, those nights where he might end up crying himself to sleep.
(Sometimes the meltdowns are when he wants them to touch him like an adult. When he needs someone to touch him or fuck him or something, anything. But those aren’t touches he can initiate or even ask for. Little boys don’t need to think about things like that)
Tantrums...it doesn't help that dad tells him in that calm, stern voice, "You want to keep having a tantrum or do you want to be our good boy again?"
Like it's a choice. As if Dennis has a choice.
Which, technically, he does. The choice is to be good or to be bad.
But it's hard. "It's so hard, sweetheart, I know," daddy coos while Dennis is trying to gather his words about why he did whatever he did. Threw his food. Kicked at his dad for trying to cuddle him. Launched one of those books at story time across the fucking room and screamed. Curled up in a corner and started crying whenever they try to touch him.
Because he doesn’t know how to sort out his feelings and his words and his actions. He doesn’t feel anything but sick to his stomach when he realizes that for as upset as he is, for as angry as he is, for as much hate he has for daddy and dad, they’re the only two that can bring him comfort in this moment. In any moment, ever.
Daddy and dad can bring him comfort and pleasure. They can also rip it all away. And that’s what scares Dennis the most. And they know it because daddy will kiss the top of his head when Dennis finally crawls back to them, lashes wet with tears, cheeks rosy red, bottom lip just trembling. Dad makes sure he has Dennis’s blue baby blanket ready to wrap around him.
“Silly boy,” they always tell him. “We did so much to get you here. Why would we ever send you back?”
Dennis doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. He just falls asleep and hopes those thoughts don’t come back tomorrow.
Jack tying Dennis down in the mating press but instead of fucking him he just eats him out until hes had enough. Hands holding the boy down while he goes to town on his hole, listening to the boy moan and cry out underneath him as he fucks him with his tongue.
He loves feeling and tasting Dennis coming while he’s eating, the sounds he makes and the feeling of him clenching around his tongue never fails to make him rut against the bed. Sometimes he gags him but sometimes he likes listening to the boy whining and begging saying things like “I can’t- it’s too much Jack please please-”
Sometimes he stops, pulling off and watching Dennis sob in relief as he smiles down at him with his undeniably ruined, dripping but very satisfied face.
Sometimes he keeps going. He knows how much he can take it, and he will take exactly that. He knows how far he can push and so push he does. He always makes sure Dennis knows how fucking good he tastes.
Sometimes, when he’s feeling mean he pulls off, looking up to see and hear how relieved Dennis is. Sitting up properly before leaving down to kiss him while sneaking a hand between their bodies to press his fingers inside him out of nowhere, feeling the other gasp against his mouth as the whole thing starts again but with his fingers instead. Maybe he even slaps his hole a few times just to hear the boy shriek and twitch away from him.
As mean as he sometimes is he is the best at aftercare. Being very careful with cleaning Dennis up, pressing soft kisses on his face when the boy whimpers as the towel brushed a particular sore spot. He always makes sure Dennis drinks enough water afterwards and he always insists to bathe him, wash his hair and massage him clean while making sure his head stays above the water when the boy inevitably dozes off. Most of the time the bath is already filled up before hand so when Dennis gets home and hears the bath running he knows he’s going to end up with trembling legs for the rest of they day, but he knows he’ll enjoy every second of it.
sometimes I get very emotional about just how much whitsantos mean to me. to have both of them so clearly become the other's person, and be what the other needs when its likely neither of them have had that before...
trinity has had a hard life, has lost her best friend due to abuse and coercion, and possibly rape, by men in authority, and now she lives alone and struggles to create tight bonds with people. she uses a headstrong and independent personality to hide her insecurities and fear. despite this, she sees dennis in need, and takes him in without a second thought.
she could've easily done anything else, left him there and promised not to tell, etc, but instead she opens up her home to him despite her trauma and lets him live with her.
dennis becomes someone in her life who looks out for her in ways she probably hasn't had since the suicide of her best friend years ago. he worries that garcia is making her miserable and using her, and he knows about her self harm (implied from the scene cut out between them, but we know he knows) and tries to offer her support and companionship, rather than judgement. in their interactions, we can see that she really trusts him.
she can't hide her feelings as well with him, and he spots immediately when shes struggling and off, asking if shes doing okay. having someone like that is so important for trinity. in turn, she does the same for him. she worries he's being used by amy on the farm, and correctly notices that his empathy is going to get him taken advantage of in the future.
it just hits me right in the heart- neither of them know how to accept help very well, and yet they give help to the other so freely. they truly, truly care about each other, and they're better off together. its such a heartwarming reprasentation of close friendship between a man and a woman that has no hint of romance at all that is so rare to see in media, and yet mirrors so many peoples own core friendships (like my own, and how lucky i am to have my own trinity in my life).
trinity and dennis, for me, are a perfectly example of being able to build your own family when, for whatever reason, your original one can't or won't be with you. they're hands down my favourite relationship in the show.
give me that man saying ope every time he bumps into a chair or has to brush past someone. refusing to fly anywhere within the continental united states because driving is better. suffering in the tiny ass (seriously it’s like 4 gates) omaha airport the one time his family flew on vacation or when he brings robby back to broken bow. him taking 2 hours to leave the hospital or any work gathering bc the chit chat is too addictive. comparing pittsburgh heat to the corn sweat humidity. complaining about the wind chill but still wearing shorts in the winter. grew up vacationing in branson and the lake of the ozarks. gas station food. saying hi and how are ya to every. single. person. on the street. we already know he lovesss to mention that he’s from nebraska. give me midwestern dennis whitaker to the max.
Hi all! I just published the first chapter of my fauxcest fic "You Know It (You Know It, You Know It's True)" on ao3. I'm still working on editing and completing the last chapters, but give it a look if you want!! ty!!
your post + the Wave of fauxcest everyone's been blessed with lately are mashing in my head something Fierce
dead dove fauxcest where dennis very much so does NOT want to be rabbot's pseudo son pseudo toy pseudo whatEVER the fuck🤤
the first time he finally calls out for dad/daddy just in complete tears...hating having to call them that in a domestic And sexual setting and there's no clear line (to him) when one bleeds into the other
(eyes the stalker/kidnapping/dead dove doc i add to when im bored
haha no yeah THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUTTTT
Dennis had a good relationship with his family. He loved and respected his father. Never dared to talk back to his mom. Sure his brothers were annoying but they still cared about him and even shed a few tears at his college graduation.
So there's no reason for him to be...reacting to this. He shouldn't, he doesn't need to have some sort of weird rush of endorphins when Robby and Jack refer to themselves as daddy and dad.
He lost the urge to fight a while ago. They were older, and he had foolishly thought that meant he could get away if he tried hard enough. But dad-Jack, his name is Jack- is strong and good at tying ropes. Daddy-no, Robby, jesus, Robby- kept slipping something into his food or maybe his drinks or maybe both to make him sleepy and pliant and soft.
That's what they kept saying. "Such a good boy, such a soft, sweet thing, Denny."
Robby would actively pretend not to hear Dennis when he pleaded "Dr. Robby, please, I won't tell anyone, please, I want to go home." He'd keep talking about the toy Dennis was holding or the book they were reading. "Yes, that is a duck, such a smart boy. You want to turn the page or should I?"
Jack was meaner. Scarier. He'd tilt his head and hum, "I know my sweet boy didn't just say what I think he said. Because my little boy knows what dad would have to do if his son was being so disrespectful."
Dennis starts relying on the comfort wherever he can get it. He doesn't want to feel his body relax into his daddy's hold but sometimes the body heat is so perfect and inviting and he gets drowsy and lets out a soft little sigh. He doesn't want dad to know that the movie that he insisted he could handle is in fact scaring him but he clings to dad anyway, hiding his face at the jump scares, burning red when it gets him a "Oh, don't worry, baby. Dad's right here, he'll keep you safe."
And they blur the line, move the goalpost, switch it up on him to a point where Dennis can't keep up and his head hurts from trying.
He can go from lounging on the couch with dad, talking about something normal, and then suddenly he's got his mouth around his dad's cock, eyes wet with tears and confusion the only thing he can cling to. Daddy insists Dennis is too little to get dressed by himself but somehow that ends up with him getting fucked into the mattress, head buried in a pillow that smells too much like his dad, lips and legs shaking, somehow vaguely hoping his daddy will be nice enough to help him cum too.
Dennis doesn't even mean to call them it so casually. It just happens one day, so natural and simple with the way it falls out of his mouth. They're arguing about his bedtime, about him getting a treat after dinner, about something that Dennis used to be able to choose himself but now he doesn't. Can't.
And he just looks up with a pout, and argues "But daddy, you promised. You said it this morning. Dad heard it too."
Daddy looks so fucking elated that whatever he was arguing against was instantly given. Dad looks smug, smitten, predatory. Like he has plans to hear Dennis say it again soon. Like he won something. Beat Dennis somehow.
Dennis's head just hurts.
in puppy mode (18+) @whitaker-everafter - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
ellievsbear
snowghoul
