#i definitely remember cutting open a pumpkin at least and scraping all the stuff out. but i dont remember the carving

[northern-passage]

If the cast entered a pumpkin carving contest who would you rank best to worst and what would each person attempt to carve?

hmmm....

best to worst: Noel > Merry > Lea > Clementine

Noel would absolutely win and demolish everyone in the process. he'd carve something fun like a black cat or a bat or a ghost while everyone else just struggles to make a classic jack o' lantern face.

Merry's competitive so she would be Determined to figure it out no matter what. she's actually a pretty decent artist so that part would translate over, she would just have to take her time to clean up the carving itself. she'd give it one of those big wide creepy smiles.

Lea is just not very good at it but they would have fun. another classic jack o' lantern. they would definitely give it a scary face (but mostly the carving is just all jagged cus they didn't know what they were doing)

Clementine needs assistance or maybe they're just pretending so the hunter has to come pay attention to them. who is to say..... but you should take the knife away from them before they stab someone

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 2

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1      Part 3     Part 4    Part 5

The Joker feels your hand searching around and he knows what you’re looking for: the yellow teddy bear.

“Here Pumpkin,” J gives you the toy that landed on the other side of the bed during the night; a couple minutes pass and his cheek is covered in soft kisses. He opens one eye and you instantly pretend to be asleep.

“I’m onto you, Y/N!” The King of Gotham sneers while you giggle at his affirmation. But as soon as he pecks the scar on your collarbone, your attitude changes.

“No…”, you whimper and cover your face with the sheets.

“I told you before I don’t care about scars,” The Joker tries to reason with you because it happens each time he touches the numerous stitch marks scattered all over your frame: some are deeper lacerations perfectly normal after the surgeries you sustained, others are cuts that might diminish in a few months. “Princess, are you listening?” J traces the lesion on your wrist.

Y/N is so stiff though he has to fight in order to pull the covers away from her.

“Hey…hey… See? I have scars too,” The Clown attempts to distract you. “Are you having a panic attack? No need to!”

You try to keep up with what he’s saying and it’s pretty difficult giving the circumstances; at least you do understand J is making you relax.

His cell phone starts vibrating on the nightstand and he reaches for it.

“Perfect timing, Frost!” The Joker takes his frustration on Jonny. “What do you want?!!”

The short conversation ends fast with The King yelling a bunch of angry stuff, including an interesting grand finale: “Next time you interrupt when I’m on a roll struggling to get laid, maybe you’d like to intervene and convince Y/N her scars don’t bother me!!!”

Why is he mad?...

You watch him toss the phone on the floor and crawl by him, intrigued.

“Upset?” you begin caressing his hair with the teddy bear’s paw.

“My throne won’t be ready until June, Princess! I requested that fancy chair for a reason and paid a fortune to have it customized! What am I supposed to use at the club?! I don’t like the old furniture anymore!!”

You already lost track of what he’s saying: something about not having a throne???… … …

Oh, there’s one really close by!

You grab The Joker’s arm and drag him out of bed towards the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” he inquires, confused.

You quickly guide him to the toilet, making J sit on the closed lid.

“Throne,” you point at the porcelain bowl and The King of Gotham frowns, immediately bursting into laughter afterwards.

“You’re brilliant, Pumpkin! Brilliant!” he praises your interpretation as you are pulled on his knees.

“Hm?”

“You’re a clever Kitten and whoever says otherwise is an idiot! Turns out I do have a throne,” he admits and gropes you.

Too much for your brain to decipher all his sentences, yet Mister J seems content and that’s enough for you.

“The plan for this morning is simple,” he continues. “We’ll have sex, then take a shower and whatnot, then eat breakfast. Later I have a meeting; you just stay here and wait for me, alright?”

“Mmm…” you hesitantly process the words coming out of his mouth, opting to agree for his sake. “Ok?”

“You naughty girl,” he pulls down on your tank top spaghetti strap. ”I know you hate me sometimes, but in the end can’t resist my charm.”

“No hate… Love,” you snuggle to J while he walks back into the bedroom carrying the sweet burden of his existence; of course he ignored your statement because why would he pay attention to nonsense?

*************

You’re outside the car and sulk when Alice sneaks on the passenger’s seat that literally belongs to The Queen.

“Stay here, Princess. I won’t be too long,” The Joker mutters.

“W-why?” you ask since you are not a fan of the idea of having your boyfriend’s ex riding alone with him.

“You get bored at meetings,” he explains. “Circle the property and let the boys know if you need anything,” J emphasizes and drives down the path leading to the gates, leaving a puzzled Y/N behind: you never liked Alice and that didn’t vanish after the accident.

“Bye, Y/N!” she shouts and you can’t make a lot of sense of what you’re feeling, still one detail is certain: it hurts.

How come you couldn’t go?! Why didn’t he give you a choice?! He always does.

If The Joker thinks you can’t put two and two together these days, he’s very wrong.

“Y/N recovered quite nicely,” Alice smirks.

The King of Gotham sighs and she fixes a rebel strand of green hair rebelliously flying over his ear.

“I was wondering if you’ll call me at one point. I missed you, babe.”

“Did ya’?” he scoffs at her bold confession; but she’s a direct person, one of the qualities J admired when they were an item.

“I can’t image how you two function; I mean… her unfortunate transformation, it must be hard for you to put up with someone fighting to comprehend the easiest tasks.”

“It’s not easy,” The Clown admits and gazes at her: Alice dolled up for their rendezvous. Everything he considers attractive is there: beautiful pair of legs popping from under the short skirt, his favorite perfume discretely lingering on her flawless skin, the tip of the purple lace bra she’s wearing casually showing each time the woman leans forward.

“I bet,” Alice pretends to sympathize with his problems. “A man like you has needs that I’m positive Y/N can’t even remember how to satisfy,” she pats his thigh, slowly working her way to his crotch.

The Joker chuckles, accomplice with her insinuations, also super annoyed when his phone rings.

“Yes?” he promptly answers.

“Sir,” Frost reports, ”we have a situation; Y/N is increasingly agitated and…”

“Deal with it!” he hangs up and strives to cruise straight despite the sexy distraction urging him to do otherwise.

“Why did we split?” she scoots closer to him, pouting.

“Beats me,” J purrs as she squeezes her fingers in his pants’ pocket.

“What’s this?” Alice rattles the small plastic pouch.

“Y/N’s anti-inflammatory drug; there’s not much that can be done now and this is helping with the blood clot pressing on her frontal lobe. The doctors say it will reabsorb; granted it won’t matter regarding her cognitive impairment.”

“Awww,” The Joker’s past flame pretends to be affected by his briefing. “That’s too bad, babe; probably the future is not too bright…” she shoves your pills in the glove compartment. “Why don’t we reconcile? You know I’d do anything for you,” the flirtatious tone makes J reply:

“Would you jump in front of a speeding car like Y/N did to save me?”

“Ha! I would,” she elbows him, snickering at his antiques.

“Prove it then,” J growls. “Get out of the vehicle and don’t flinch if I run you over. If you survive, I’ll take you back!”

Alice opens her mouth in amazement and the SUV halts before The King reprises driving.

“Got cha’!” he cracks up at her baffled reaction.

“For God’s sake, babe! You scared me!” she playfully pinches him and teases: “Are we going to our spot?”

“I was wondering when you’ll notice,” The Joker navigates the unpaved road guiding the automobile towards Clear Sky Summit.

“Pull over,” Alice urges him and he complies at once. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” she moans climbing on his lap. “I can tell you missed me too,” the woman grins at his body’s response.

“That’s my gun,” J buries his face in the revealing cleavage, firmly holding her waist.

“I bet it is, babe,” she winks while unbuttoning his silver shirt. “I love you!” she tries to bite him and he violently yanks her long hair, snarling.

“Is that why you tried to kill me?”

Alice cautiously exhales, a bit nervous at the switch in his demeanor.

“What are you talking about?!”

“Who was driving the car meant to hit me, huh? Tinted windows, no license plate.”

“Babe, you’re hurting me,” she winces in pain at his strong grip. “I swear I don’t know anything!”

“Are you sure?” J sniffs her scent.

“Yes I’m sure! I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our…”

“Our what? What exactly our means in this context? We separated more than two years ago!” The Joker crushes her spine against the wheel.

“Babe, let go!” Alice wiggles in his tight embrace.

“Why did you do it? Were you jealous I found a new fling? Took me months to track the culprit!!!” J restricts her movement when she stretches to open the door. “You fucked up my girl!” his hands forcefully twist her neck and the snapping noise of fractured bone halts the argument.

The Joker pushes the corpse off him, numb to the murder he committed out of pure rage: what’s another name added to the list?

Yet… this was personal.

He keeps staring at the trees surrounding the trail without discerning their shape. 30 minutes pass and the phone’s alarm alerts him it’s time for your remedy: The Clown Prince of Crime is so out of it he doesn’t stop it until he’s on the main road.

He speeds up to ensure a timely arrival at the mansion where Y/N will definitely confront him after being abandoned in such fashion: the truth is he doesn’t mind.

What he does mind though is that no matter what happens, Y/N will never be her former self.

***************

The Joker parks in front of the villa and hops out of the car, barking instructions at the goons patrolling the area:

“I want this gone!” he gestures at the cadaver crammed under the front seat. “Where’s Y/N?”

“In the garage, boss” Frost indicates. “You should know that…”

“I got it! I got it!” J waves and sprints towards your destination.

Nothing prepared him for the carnage.

“Holy… … shit!!!” he inhales at the shocking landscape depicting all five of his most beloved vehicles mauled to pieces: broken windows, scraped paint, karoseri indents…a whole mess!

Bam!!! You smash the rearview mirror of his favorite Ferrari with the baseball bat.

“What are you doing, Pumpkin????!!!!” J screams, aggravated.

Oh, he’s back!

“Y-you like her??!!” The Queen redirects her wrath. “B-because she’s smart??!!”

“Who? Alice?” he quizzes for no reason whatsoever: The Joker’s aware of the reply.

“Wh-where did you go, hm?” you point the wood weapon at the man taking you for a fool; you try not to stutter but it’s impossible with the strained neurons firing up a storm inside an already troubled brain.

“Nowhere, I killed her.”

“Hm?”

“I killed Alice!” The Joker raises his voice and watches you squint your eyes, a clear hint you’re analyzing his disclosure. “Look what you did, Princess! Are you happy now??” he finds the perfect opportunity to divert the outcome of the mayhem he actually created: J repeatedly learned this is the best strategy.

“U-hum,” you serenely admit since you’re indeed pleased with the results of your rampage.

The two parties glare at each other in silence and The Joker grabs the yellow teddy bear resting on a nearby hood, proposing truce before you bash something else:

“I’ll trade you the fur ball for your bat.”

Yikes, you’re reluctant to his treaty: further distraction is required.

“My collection is destroyed, Pumpkin!” The Joker approaches with the toy he stole for you on your first date. “Who we’re gonna call on such short notice to fix all this crap?!!”

Oh, you know this one! You and Mister J watch the movie on a regular basis.

“Mmm… Ghost Busters?” Y/N innocently suggests.

He puckers his lips at the astonishing proposal and it takes a lot of effort not to laugh.

“That’s brilliant, Y/N! Best idea I heard all week!” The Joker proudly compliments your intuition. “You’re a clever Kitten and whoever says otherwise is a moron!” he swiftly snatches the baseball from your grasp and replaces it with the teddy bear.

He rolls the weapon by the closest tire, signaling you to follow.

“Come on, Pumpkin, it’s time for your med. Why are you limping? Is your knee hurting again?”

“U-hum.”

“Serves you right for going rogue!” he scolds. “Com’ere,” J lifts you up, placing your legs around his midsection. “I expect apologies by the way!”

“No,” you sniffle while dangling the toy with one arm.

“Pain in the ass!” he huffs and you kiss him. “This is not an apology!” The Joker spanks you butt.

“Mine,” you cuddle to his shoulder, totally blocking his grouchiness.

“Yeah, yeah, yours,” J grumbles heading for the elevator. “So this is how the rest of today will unfold, Y/N: I’ll be mad until evening time, then we’ll have makeup sex and dinner, the last two not necessarily in the same order. And you’re not going to freak out when I touch your scars, OK?”

“Mmm…OK?”

“Why is that a question?” The Joker continues bickering. “You have other prospects? Boyfriends I should know about? Are you even listening?”

“U-hum,” you poke J’s star tattoo. “No… freaking out.”

“Fair enough,” he compromises and lifts you higher on his hips when you cling to him: selective perception is infinitely better than none. “Is this Pink Blossoms?”

“Yes,” you nod at the familiar brand you use all the time.

The King of Gotham smells his favorite perfume in the air, reckoning he wouldn’t enjoy it if another woman wears it for him.

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[john-wickening]

A Treat

AN: So this little ditty is based off my head canon post. It’s more sappy stuff whoops. One day, I’ll write something that isn’t tooth rotting fluff lol. Hope y’all enjoy ^_^. 

You get busy at work, which prevents you from celebrating Halloween like you’d want to. John has a trick up his sleeve.

TW: mention of someone committing sexual assault (not shown, just mentioned) Some mild swearing

Word count: 1842

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When the phone rang and the obnoxiously bubbly ringtone filled the room, you couldn’t help but groan.

It was your boss calling.

John looked up from the book he was working on and you stuck your lower lip out in a pout. The corner of his mouth twitched in response.

Work had been an absolute nightmare lately and you knew deep down in your gut that this wasn’t going to be a great phone call.

“Hey Rob,” you huffed as you picked up the phone. You couldn’t conceal the disappointment leaking into your voice.

Rob was a gruff man. He cut right to the chase.

“I have another assignment for you.” You heaved a sigh and bit your lip. Of course he did. You stood up and crossed the room to your desk. Your laptop whirred to life when you opened the lid.

“Sure Rob. Hit me with it,” your laptop was moving glacially slow, but eventually it booted up.

“I’ve emailed you the details. Your deadline is the 31st,” he stated and you felt a pang of annoyance shoot through you.

“Halloween, Rob? Really?” you groaned “You know that’s my favorite holiday,”

“You agreed to this, chickadee,” he bit out gruffly and you had to grit your teeth together to keep from snapping at him for the asinine pet name. “You’re freelance for a reason.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” you grumbled in reply. You could hear the click of the receiver as he hung up. You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone down onto the table.

Asshole.

You pulled up your email and logged in. His lengthy message was in the top of your inbox. You chewed the corner of your thumbnail as you scanned over the details of the case.

“What’s he got you doing this time?” You were engrossed so deeply and John’s voice was so sudden in the silent room that you actually jumped a little. When you looked up at him, you could see amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Investment banker,” You replied. “He’s got me checking up on this guy, making sure his personal life is tip top.” You kept it intentionally vague. John could be a little… overprotective when he knew all the details. Knowing that this guy was a convicted rapist and had served time for beating his child would definitely not fly so well with John. He’d insist on coming with you and that made everything ten times more complicated.

John nodded and turned back to his book.

You watched him for a moment, admiring the way his thick, scarred fingers worked at the binding. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest watching your fiancée skillfully thread the pages.

You turned back to your work with a smile on your face, which unfortunately faded fast.

The details on this man were troubling to say the least. Three convictions for sexual assault, 2 years in East Jersey State. His money bought him a slap on the wrist, basically. You frowned and shook your head in disgust. The justice system was a farce. You found yourself falling down the rabbit hole looking into this dickhead. You were so enthralled with the information that John yet again managed to scare you.

“Guess that means you finally have to leave the dog alone,” he muttered after a few minutes. You brought a hand to your chest to try to slow down your heart and shot him a glare.

“Meatball likes it,” you retorted indignantly. John snorted

“No he doesn’t,” he replied without looking up from his work. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes he does,” You replied. “He was dashing in his devil costume last year, thank you very much,” John chuckled quietly and you found yourself smiling.

“You’re obsessed,” he stated flatly and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You love it,” you teased and he smirked but didn’t reply. A comfortable silence passed between you.

“I’ll find the time to dress Meatball up, don’t you worry” you said after a minute though your heart wasn’t in it. The case Rob had thrown at you was very involved. Halloween was in two weeks and this was a job that would normally take three weeks or more. You looked over at the spiderwebs wrapped up the banister and sighed. You were glad that you had at least been proactive on decorating the house.

It’s September 21st, why are you decorating already? This is earlier than last year, John grumbled as he watched you flit about the house. It already looked like the Halloween store had exploded in here.

Have you met me, John? You teased as you clipped a small plastic skeleton to the ceiling fan.

He just rolled his eyes but you didn’t miss the smirk creeping across his face as he turned away. He had always expressed his indifference for the holiday and frankly, he often teased you lightly for your minor obsession. But he never stopped you or outright discouraged your enthusiasm, and for that you were thankful

You just hoped you’d be able to get enough done on the case to at least have your annual movie night

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two weeks later, you slapped the file down on Rob’s desk with a triumphant smirk

“I really think you were trying to test me on this one, Rob,” you said cockily. “Here’s everything you need to know about the bastard,”

The older man flipped through the file with piercing eyes. After a moment, he set it down and grinned.

“Good work, kid.” You bit the inside of your cheek. You hated being called kid. To be honest, you hated every stupid pet name the man called you, but this job paid well so you held your tongue.

The man looked up at you and scratched his wiry gray beard in thought.

“To be honest, I didn’t think you were going to be able to do it in time,” he said and you felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Well then, you underestimated me,” the words leaked out before you could stop them.

The man let out a bark of laughter and you felt your stomach clench uneasily.

“I suppose I did,” he admitted amicably and the knot in your stomach uncoiled. From the drawer of his desk, he produced a thick envelope.

There it was.

“Here’s your pay, plus a little bonus for putting in the hard work at such a busy time,” he replied and passed the envelope to you. You took it but didn’t check the contents. The man had a peculiar affect and checking the amount would most likely upset him.

“Thank you, sir,” He nodded and turned his back on you, indicating that the conversation was over.

Not the most socially graceful dude, thought dryly to yourself as you stuffed the envelope into your bag.  Didn’t matter, though. Money was money. You left his office in a hurry.

By the time you got home to John, it was around 7 pm and it was just getting dark. You grinned when you noticed he had remembered to turn on the decorations on the lawn.

“John? I’m home,” you called as you walked through the front door. The house smelled strongly of pumpkin spice and you found yourself grinning.

From the other room came the skittering of paws on the floor and Meatball’s deep throaty bark of excitement. The noise almost entirely drowned out John’s response.

The skittering got closer and when Meatball eventually rounded the corner, you gasped.

“John you did not!” you cried out giddily as you laid eyes on the dog.

You don’t know what you loved more—the yellow and black jumper complete with a ‘stinger’ covering the dog’s tail, or the headband that wiggled wildly with every movement.

John had dressed Meatball up as a bee for Halloween and it was the cutest costume you’d ever seen in your entire life.

“Oh Meatball you look so good!” you cooed happily as you dropped to the floor to greet the dog. His little face lit up at your voice and the tail wag became a body wag. The puppy kisses were plentiful.

When John finally rounded the corner, you couldn’t help but grin up at him.

“Meatball hates it, huh?” you replied smugly from your spot on the floor. Meatball had crawled fully into your lap and was lapping at your chin.

John shot you a glare but his heart wasn’t in it. It was then that you noticed there was a white feather tangled in his hair.

“John… what’s in your hair?” you giggled. He stared blankly at you. You stood, crossed the room, and plucked it out and showed it to him.

He looked slightly sheepish.

“Ah… you’ll see,” he said. You grinned up at him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Thanks for dressing Meatball up,” you mumbled as you broke away. His smile was soft. He pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Follow me,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you into your living room. When you saw what was waiting for you, you almost shrieked in delight.

It was absolutely perfect. He had set out your regular Halloween spread, complete with your favorite bottle of red wine and rice crispy treats shaped like pumpkins. The television was cued up for a movie marathon. After a second you noticed that resting on the couch was a small set of bird’s wings and a headband of feathers, both clearly homemade.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“The birds and the bees, John?” the corner of his lips quirked up and he snaked a hand around your waist.

“I figured you’d appreciate it,” he replied simply and placed a kiss on your cheek.

For a second, you had to blink hard and steel yourself to keep your watery eyes from running over. He had clearly put a lot of effort into this despite his indifference about the holiday. The emotion that hit you was almost overwhelming.

“Thank you, John,” you breathed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into him. His eyes were soft as he looked down on you.

“You’re welcome, love,” he replied.

The kiss he gave you was slow, passionate, and absolutely toe curling. It took your breath away. His stubbly beard scraped against your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You gripped his shoulders harder to keep your knees from giving out. Kissing him was like visiting the gates of heaven. You could have gotten lost in that kiss forever.

Eventually, he broke it. You sighed breathlessly and pressed your forehead to his.

“Which movie?” he asked quietly, his voice a little strained. You smiled, knowing it was a pointless question.

“Hocus Pocus, of course,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with his. “But first…”

You tugged at his hand and he started to follow you.

“There’s something we should take care of before the trick-or-treaters show up...” you cooed demurely as you pulled him past the couch and towards your shared room.

The smile on John’s face was intoxicating.

It was truly going to be a perfect night.

[thethespacecoyote]

6 or 10 for rhack! (Or a pairing of your choice you think fits the prompt more)

I’ll still do 10 but for now I really wanted to do 6!

omegaverse and fluff mostly

the return of the reading room in Jack’s office is dedicated to @starfruitspice :p

Rhys had mixed feelings about the little reading alcove set up in Jack’s office. At first, he’d been happy to see its return from the unsightly—and, gruesomely—seldom cleaned airlock bay. As much fun as Jack had jettisoning those who crossed him out into the void to watch them float amongst the space debris, a well-placed bullet did the trick most of the time, and even someone as bombastic as Jack sometimes grew tired of the fanfare and preferred quicker kills.

So the small nook in the corner of Jack’s office had returned, and though most of the books lining the shelves were fake or contained nothing but blank pages, Rhys often found himself curled up on one of the soft chairs in lieu of his desk, doing work of his own or taking a nap or browsing the ECHOnet.

It was relaxing and a nice place to zone out when he needed it—at least until Jack decided to use it as an impromptu meeting spot where Rhys could be easily cornered.

Today had been fairly mundane. Enough so that Rhys felt more than comfortable to cut his workload a little early and hunker down in his favorite of the plush chairs clustered around the little coffee table. In fact, he ended up so relaxed, spacing out as he browsed aimless lifestyle articles on his ECHOeye, that he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him until Jack’s hands slid over the back of the chairs and came to rest on both sides of his neck.

Rhys tensed in surprise, but Jack’s touch on his shoulders felt nice. He could hear the alpha breathing behind him as his fingers rubbed down to Rhys’ upper arms and back up. Rhys knew it was coming as he heard Jack exhale in a deep sigh, but enjoyed the momentary massage before he spoke up.

“So. I wanted to talk about something.”

“Oh?” Rhys tilted his chin back, nearly coming nose to nose with Jack, who’d arched over the back of the chair like a sneaking predator. His brows knitted together as Jack brushed his lips between them, before circling around to take the seat besides the omega. He scooted closer, chair legs scraping against the steel floor and rucking up the edge of the heavy carpet as he placed a solid hand on Rhys’ knee. The omega sighed, shutting off his ECHOeye and giving Jack his full attention.

“Lay it on me, though you know my attention kind of goes out the window once I hole up in here.”

“Ah, but it makes you a little more agreeable.” Jack rubbed his hand up Rhys’ thigh and back down to his knee, just slow enough to get Rhys wondering whether Jack just wanted to get a little frisky before they broke for the evening. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been fucked in Jack’s office. Actually that’s where they usually did the deed—Jack hardly ever took him up to the penthouse, and straight-up refused to hunker down in the little apartment the omega shared with Vaughn.

“So?” Rhys pulled his knees up to his chest, casually balling up atop the chair and ignoring Jack’s slight whine at the loss of contact. “What do you want me to agree to?”

Rhys had come to expect a lot of strange things from Jack. One didn’t get to be the CEO of Hyperion without picking up a couple eccentricities along the way, and Jack had those in violent spades. He thought himself well versed in the alpha’s nature.

But the very last thing he’d expected Jack to do was slide down to one knee and take his hand in his own with a shockingly earnest look on his face that had Rhys’ heart suddenly leaping out of his chest.

“You ever thought about getting married, sugar?”

And honestly—yeah, Rhys had thought about the idea a couple of times. Their relationship could hardly be classified as purely professional to anyone but the densest Claptraps in the station. It was an open secret amongst the rank and file that he and Jack were bumping uglies, a fact that put him in danger as many times as it’d earned him a free drink or a congratulatory smack on the shoulder and suggestive eye waggle. But he was the one still here, wasn’t he? The one still getting fucked by Jack while the bodies of everyone that’d tried to mess with him littered the cosmic landfill.

However, though Rhys had thought about it and even broached the subject once, Jack had never seemed all that receptive. That one time he’d brought it up Jack had treated Rhys more like he’d said something funny than anything with a shred of weight to it. And Rhys had nervously laughed it off as such at the time, but now that Jack was here, flagrantly asking if he wanted to not even bother with keeping their open-secret a secret anymore, he felt put on the spot, caught up in his thoughts as he tried to respond.

“You’re…you’re serious. You want to get married?”

“Well, yes and no.” Jack kept Rhys’ hand sandwiched between his hand, gracefully petting his knuckles. “You know me. Kind of burnt out on the whole getting tied down thing. But a solid power couple is good for business. News of Handsome Jack’s engagement and wedding will make headlines all around the galaxy and boost the hell out of Hyperion’s stock.”

“I see. So you’re taking relationship advice from your board of directors, now?”

“I don’t need any advice, kiddo, I already know how to get people talking about your brand.”

“With a wedding?”

“Come on, I know you. You won’t wanna give up a chance at a fancy party.” Jack lifted his knuckles to his lips, breathing over them a moment before placing a kiss. “Remember the last fiscal-year-end gala?”

Rhys didn’t, thanks to the copious amount of celebratory cocktails he’d drunk in celebration of the somewhat stressful final quarter. All the hard work spent managing Jack’s moods as well as the mechanics of a multi-billion dollars company had paid off with record growth, and Rhys had taken the moment to properly indulge and make up for all the times he’d had to turn down Vaughn and Yvette’s invitations out. So little had remained in the cache of his memory aside from endless sparkly gold alcohol and the sour cough of his liver begging him to stop, capped up with the fuzzy sensation of Jack’s hands and dick inevitably rubbing against him.

Not that his lack of memory made Jack wrong. Rhys did like parties. The thought of enjoying a fancy wedding full of food and alcohol and elegant outfits warmed him up to the idea a little more and caused the shock to fade.

“Okay, but…didn’t you just say you weren’t the kind of guy who got tied down. Not anymore, right?”

“And that’s still all true, kiddo, ‘cause like I also just said, this is mostly for show.”

“For show,” Rhys repeated, nestling his chin between his tucked knees.

“Yep. Nothing has to change between us if you don’t want it to, sugar. I know you’re pretty partial to our current arrangement.”

Their current arrangement being a fairly standard working relationship punctuated by snark and sexual trysts that only truly blossomed once business hours ended. And yes, Rhys did like it—it was the ultimate synergy between the personal and professional and with ambitions like his, fucking one’s boss was the definition of killing two skags with one bullet and making them into a pair of designer boots.

“So is this going to go all the way?” He pressed, eyed tilting down to where Jack still remained in proposing position. “Do I get a ring and a wedding? A brand new suit to match my pretend husband’s?”

“Oh sure” Jack patted the tip of Rhys’ boot in assurance. “We can go all out, sugar. If we really wanna impress public and public stock traders alike it’s gotta be big and expensive.”

“So, I wonder.” Rhys lips curled mischievously. “Where the ‘for show’ part might come in.”

Jack tilted his head to the side and tapped his neck.

“Well, you won’t have to bond me, for one. We can fake that stuff pretty easy with makeup or a tat if someone starts spreading rumors and causing a fuss. Dunno if I could let my fiancé stay in his crappy little apartment, though. People might get suspicious. Might think you’re cheating on me with the little muscle friend of yours.”

As much as Vaughn disliked Jack—though, like most smart people, he kept that a secret—he’d always been supportive of Rhys’ bid for power and influence and even he couldn’t deny that Jack provided both. It might be a bit of an adjustment to leave his old apartment and shack up in Jack’s penthouse, but well—Vaughn could always visit and secondhand reap the rewards of Rhys’ fake marriage.

Though Rhys wasn’t entirely convinced of how “fake” a marriage could really be between two people who were already actively sleeping together. But if Jack really wanted to keep feelings hands-off, for now, then Rhys could deal with it.

He’d always figured he might have to play the long-game eventually.

“So what say you, pumpkin? You ready to be Mr. Handsome Jack?”

Rhys stretched his legs back out, heels clicking against the floor. Jack instantly leaned forward and folded his hands over Rhys’ thighs, resting his chin atop his tented knuckles. Rhys heard Jack’s joints pop as he switched out of the proposing knee to a more comfortable position.

“Mmm. I’ve gotta warn you, I’m not the best actor. I might just really have to get myself into character to make this work.”

Jack grinned as Rhys’ fingers combed affectionately through his hair.

“I don’t mind helping you refine your talents, sugar.”

“I’m not so sure I’m the one who needs refinement.”

Jack snorted.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You’re right. As my new fiancé that’s your job.”

“So is that a yes?”

Rhys tapped Jack on the nose, smirking as his nostrils flared at the contact.

“Take me home with you tonight, and you’ll get your answer.”