just a little Thanksgiving fic for now! And happy birthday to @tonberryqueen I will try to write you something smutty in addition to this! 🙂

“Jack?” Rhys approaches gently, entering the kitchen in search of his husband. Usually, Rhys stayed out of Jack’s way when he was cooking, especially on a day like Thanksgiving, but he still needed to check in every once and awhile in between sips of wine.

“Smells good,” the omega purred as the scent of cooking turkey and baking sweet potatoes, trying to speak over the clang of pans and ladles as Jack flashed around the kitchen. He grunted softly in response as Rhys padded closer to him.

“Do you need some help?”

Another grunt.

“Jack,” Rhys whispered as he came up behind his alpha, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and kissing at his ear. The alpha jumped slightly, looking over his shoulder at Rhys as if he’d just realized he was there.

“Uh, kitten, sorry but I…you know…I gotta finish this stuff,” he murmured, trying to move but reluctant to pull away from his mate’s comforting arms.

“I know, I know, you god damn perfectionist, but listen.” He kissed Jack’s cheek, nuzzling up against him. His skin was splattered with flour and slightly greasy. His hands rubbed over the front of Jack’s apron, casually dusting it off.

“It’ll get done, and everyone will be amazed once they get your food in their mouth. I know I will.” He turned the alpha around in his arms and took Jack’s chin in his hand.

“Pumpkin…”

“Shhh. If we had to wait until everything was done to your satisfaction, we wouldn’t be eating dinner ’til midnight.”

“I swear, I’m almost done,” the alpha insisted, earning him a chuckle kiss from Rhys as the omega bent down to kiss him. The smooch distracted Jack for a moment as Rhys slipped past him and grabbed a serrated knife and an oven mitt.

“Woah woah woah, kiddo, hang on a second—“

“I can cut bread and take things out of the oven, Jack,” the omega insisted, fixing him with a look that told Jack it was useless to argue, “you go work your magic on the turkey and potatoes, okay? I’ll handle the grunt work.”

Jack managed to relax a little, a small smile flitting over his lips as he leaned in to return Rhys’ kiss.

“What would I do without you, babe?”

“Crash and burn when it comes to hosting,” Rhys snarked, nuzzling a couple more kisses against Jack’s face before running to the oven to save the green bean casserole from burning.

If you’re still doing the domestic prompts, 27 with Jack, Rhys and the boys sound really cute!

some fluff~

Jack and the boys had had a long day.

The alpha’s long-awaited plan to take the boys out to the new paintball range had finally come to fruition, and Rhys had been able to tell by the paint splattered clothes and excited rambling that it had definitely been worth the money. Jack had been as exhilarated as both of his boys, boasting over a plate of mac n’ cheese about how he’d taken out half of the opposing team totally on his own before leading his sons to victory for several rounds after. Cyrus and Jaxen peppered their father’s monologue with excited comments and knowing corrections all throughout dessert, where both men had picked up a son each and carried them to the living room to watch some television.

Of course, as soon as Jack and the boys laid down on the big, roomy couch besides Rhys, the adrenaline of the day caught up with them. Before long, Rhys found himself wedged between his husband’s alpha bulk and Cyrus’ smaller body, with Jaxen cuddled atop his chest—all three snoozing away.

Rhys chuckled softly, shifting as carefully as he could to get more comfortable amongst his sleeping family. Jack’s breath had evened out against his temple, smelling of cheddar cheese and the apple pie Rhys had bought on the way home from work. Cyrus’ hair was messy and spread out in unruly curls all over Rhys’ forearm, while Jaxen’s chubby, smooshed cheek rose and fell with the breaths in the omega’s chest. It was a comfortable, soothing kind of intimacy, and Rhys was more than happy to be stuck in the middle of it all.

He used the remote to click off the television and the lights, nudging the device back onto the coffee table as he relaxed with a sigh. He rested his free hand atop Jaxen’s back, softly stroking him as he leaned down to kiss the top of his head. Cyrus’ cheek was next, followed by the part of Jack’s strong chin that the omega could reach. A sleepy smile flitted over his features as he closed his eyes, one last happy purr on his lips.

“Mmm…love you all so much.”

Totally gotta do 25 for fancyomega!

This was fun! Thanks for the prompt anon!

“Mooom, c’mon, I don’t wanna be late!”

“You won’t, now shush, I need to make sure you look perfect! You only go to prom once!”

“He went to prom last year, ma,” Jaxen called from where he was browsing his tablet on the bed. Rhys sighed at his youngest, before returning to adjust the lapels of Cyrus’ tuxedo.

“Yes, but that’s because one of his older beta friends asked to go with him. This is his first and only official prom,” the omega clarified as he licked his thumb and set about fussing with Cyrus’ unruly hair, which was starting to pop out of the meticulously slicked-back style he’d tried so desperately to force it into.

“Give it up, pumpkin, he’s got his daddy’s genes. There’s no way you’re taming that do,” Jack snickered as he sauntered through the doorway to the boys’ connected bedrooms, earning an annoyed huff from Jaxen.

“Can you guys get outta here? I wanna watch kill videos from Pandora in peace.” The teen groaned sourly, glaring as the rest of his family encroached on his personal space

“Don’t complain, Jax, it’s your brother’s big night,” Rhys admonished, finally throwing up his hands as locks of Cyrus’ hair continued to bounce out of the gel. “Fine. I give up. Good thing you look handsome already!”

“You kidding? He’s gonna be the most handsome alpha in that entire joint,” Jack beamed, forming a picture frame with his hands around his son and his mate. “If you don’t win prom king, I might have to airlock someone.”

“Not if mom claws out their throat first…” Jaxen droned from his bed, earning a glare from Rhys.

“Hey! I won’t…rip anyone’s throat out…because they’re definitely going to vote for Cyrus.” The omega’s eyes glimmered with a dangerous sort of pride as he took a step back, looking his son up and down. He wore a dark charcoal suit, lightly pinstriped with turquoise that matched the teen’s silky tie and marbled left eye. His boutonniere was bright yellow splashed with dots of red, an exotic flower grown by Jack’s researchers for…other purposes. It hadn’t taken long to mess with the DNA to make them mostly harmless, though.

“Ugh….c’mon, Rhys, don’t cry, don’t do it,” the omega smiled even as his eyes grew damp. Jack clapped him on the shoulder, snickering as Rhys rubbed his nose and sniffed.

“You better get outta here before the waterworks start, buddy, else mama here will be blubbering and clinging so much you won’t ever get laid tonight.”

“—Dad!”

“—Jack!”

“Pffft, whatever, I know what proms are really for,” Jack winked even as Rhys shoved playfully at him and Cyrus’ cheeks grew beet red. Jaxen merely rolled his eyes.

“Great, now that you’ve disgusted the ever-loving fuck outta me, can everyone get the hell out of my room?”

“Hey! Watch your language,” Jack growled, even as Rhys bustled him and Cyrus out of the room, leaving Jaxen alone to his graphic livestream.

“Let’s just get some photos first, then I’ll let you go, I swear.” Rhys’ ECHOeye focused a few times, taking pictures in rapid succession as Cyrus posed by the front door, his cheeks bunched up from how wide he was smiling. Rhys’ eyes glistened with happy tears as he gave his son one final hug, patting his shoulders before Cyrus was out the door, his promise to have fun and be safe still ringing in the omega’s ears.

“Before you know it, he’s gonna be conquering his own planet…” Rhys sniffed, letting Jack wrap him up in a tender hug. The alpha met his lips in a calming kiss, rubbing his broad hands up and down his back.

“Not just yet, pumpkin, not just yet. Besides, kid loves ya. He ain’t in a hurry to grow up.” Jack slipped his hands down around Rhys’ waist.

“But if you need to get your mind off of it…maybe I can help you…you know….relive your old prom memories…” The alpha winked, earning a snort from Rhys.

“Well I…um, I kind of spent my senior prom playing video games and eating pizza at home with Vaughn.” Jack balked at him, though the omega quickly leaned up to kiss the shocked look off of his lips.

“But…I don’t mind seeing what you had in mind.”

If you want some prompts still, Rhack and 14 A shrunken sweater?

this just screamed omegaverse and mpreg fluff to me

“Jack!”

The alpha jolted awake from a fairly peaceful nap at the sudden, angry sound of his mate’s voice. He lashed out instinctively , nearly jamming his hand against the headboard as he opened his eyes to the sight of his obviously aggravated mate standing right next to the bed.

“What the heck, pumpkin,” Jack groaned, rubbing his stinging hand over his eyes as he let out a yawn, “what’s the big idea?”

“I’ll tell you what the ‘big idea’ is here, buddy, look!” Rhys huffed, grabbing at the hem of his—or rather, Jack’s sweater. Ever since they’d gotten the news that the omega was expecting, Rhys had been wearing the thing even more than he had beforehand. He’d tried buying Rhys an exact copy of his own, even offering to roll around in it for a bit until it was dusted with his scent, but Rhys refused, still clinging to the patchy, worn old sweater whenever he lazed about the penthouse.

“Uh….what am I supposed to be looking at here, babe?” Jack replied as he stared at the clothing. Rhys growled, tugging dramatically on the fabric and pulling it taut over the slight swell of his belly. Jack could even see the slight bump of his belly button.

“You washed it! You washed it and it must have shrunk!” Rhys snapped, eyes wet with frustration. Learning not to upset a pregnant omega took some time and practice, neither of which Jack had much of while he was dealing with the looming ghost of parenthood. He ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a frustrated sigh.

“I didn’t wash the frikkin’ sweater, I haven’t even been able to get it off you for weeks,” Jack defended.

“Then why is it so small!”

Jack balked at him, pointing a finger to the omega’s middle.

“Kiddo, did you forget about the fact that you’re uh, pregnant with my pup?”

Rhys tensed, his teeth digging into his lower lip. His hands wrung the hem of the sweater, stretching out the fabric further. He looked down at himself, at the soft, round curve of his stomach that was just barely starting to press outwards.

“I…well, I didn’t…hmph.” Rhys let go of the sweater, smoothing it down over his middle. “I didn’t think it could be…that much, yet.”

Rhys shifted from foot to foot, as if tested some newly given weight. His moist eyes fell downwards, shoulders sagging in a way that pinged at their bond and punched Jack in the gut.

“Ugh. C’mere, you lil’ preggo idiot,” the alpha mumbled, leaning sideways to wrap his arm around Rhys’ waist, lightly pulling the fussing omega until Rhys plopped down on the bed. His belly showed even more obviously when he sat down, something that Rhys found irksome, if Jack went by his expression.

“M’ not an idiot,” Rhys mumbled as Jack cuddled him close, the omega’s hands settling atop his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re right, just in denial that’s all.” Jack kissed his cheek, making Rhys wrinkle his nose in that way the alpha found adorable. Like a little bunny rabbit.

“I just…I didn’t think I’d grown that fast….” Rhys stroked his fingers on his stomach, pinching at the, for now, loose folds of fabric. Jack tugged him in closer, until the omega’s head rested against his shoulder.

“For your sake, that sweater better be stretchy as fuck….my kid’s gonna need a lot of room. Luxury digs n’ all.”

He rubbed his hands up and down Rhys’ sides.

“But you might have to let me wash it eventually, pumpkin. Else it’s gonna really start to smell.”

“But it smells like you,” Rhys mumbles, nosing against Jack’s shoulder, “that’s the whole point.” He hugged possessively around his middle as he nipped the alpha’s skin in warning.

“Ah, all right, all right, you win, pumpkin. You can swim around in daddy’s sweater until the thing falls right off you. Deal?”

A devilish little smile played on Rhys’ lips.

“Deal.”

25 AND/OR 15

gonna do 25 for another ask so here is 15 🙂

“Come on, Jaxen, come on, you can do it, okay?” Rhys cooed, beckoning towards himself as he crouched on the floor besides his son. Jack sat on the couch, half watching as he swiped through a hologram of the latest Hyperion pistol projected up from the tablet in his lap.

Jaxen had turned one a couple weeks ago, but hadn’t yet begun to walk, which worried Rhys. Jack either tamped down his concern or thought the omega was overreacting, but he hadn’t stopped his mate from taking their infant to the doctor to make sure nothing was wrong. Thankfully, there was no real reason behind Jaxen’s delay, besides a factor such as unwillingness or fear. The doctor had given Rhys an outline of various tactics to try out, which the omega had launched into with gusto.

Currently, Rhys was trying some extrinsic motivation. He held one of Jaxen’s favorite toys—a small stuffed skag—in one hand, jiggling it around as he sat a short distance away from where the infant had plopped onto the floor atop a faint yellow blanket. Jaxen chewed softly on a corner, looking flatly up at the omega as Rhys desperately tried to move the stuffed toy in a way that would catch his son’s eye and motivate him to get up and toddle towards him.

“Come on, Jaxen, you almost did it the other day!” Rhys encouraged, bobbing the plush, its soft felt jaws flapping open. Jaxen babbled, covering the corner of the blanket in drool. He rocked slightly when Rhys waggled the toy towards him then back away, but otherwise made no move to get up and follow.

Rhys let out a defeated sigh, setting the toy on the floor with a frown. He braced his hands against his knees and rose, turning towards Jack.

“He’s as stubborn as you are,” the omega shook his head. Jack tipped down his glasses, looking up from the slowly rotating projection of the pistol.

“You’re worrying too much, pumpkin. He’ll walk whenever he’s ready.”

“But he should be walking by now,” Rhys fussed as he crossed his arms, “I can’t stop thinking about like…what if I screwed something up? Like, already.”

“Babe,” Jack set the tablet on the coffee table, the hologram flickering softly, “you didn’t screw him up, he’s just taking his time.”

“But nothing I’m doing is helping, not even the stuff the doctor told me to try,” Rhys groaned as he flopped on the couch next to Jack, nuzzling pathetically against his mate’s shoulder. Jack’s broad hand patted over his own in assurance.

“Maybe he just needs the right motivation and we haven’t found it yet. Don’t freak out so bad, we can still try to figure it out…”

Rhys mumbled in vague agreement, nuzzling into the musk of his mate. He let his eyes flutter shut, only for them to shoot open when Jack rapidly patted his hand.

“Babe. Babe. Look.”

Rhys’ eyes followed the line of Jack’s pointed finger. To his surprise, Jaxen had pushed himself up onto his feet, swaying in place before he took a couple, shaky steps towards both of his parents.

Rhys gasped, nearly shooting up in his seat as Jaxen stumbled forward, catching himself on the edge of the coffee table as he stared up in awe at the rotating projection of the pistol. Balancing himself shakily on one hand, he grabbed at the phantom grip of the weapon, frowning when his chubby fingers went right through.

Jack was grinning from ear to ear. Rhys let out a small, breathy laugh as he watched his son, clearly fascinated by the hologram.

“Taking after daddy already,” Jack chuckled as he squeezed Rhys’ hand, shooting the omega a wink, “what did I say? Kid just needed to figure out the perfect kind of motive.”

Dumb idea for a prompt but abo modern au Jack comes up behind Rhys in a long line at maybe a grocery store or department store and Jack uses the opportunity to be an obnoxious flirt

I made this into a thing where Rhys is shopping after a heat and feels gross, but Jack hits on him anyway 😀 Modern ABO AU where Hyperion is just a normal company :0

The day immediately following Rhys’ heats was always the worst.

Sure, the inevitable pre-heat panic that set in no matter how many times Rhys has done this was always a bit of a hassle, but preoccupying himself with meal-planning and supply shopping managed to distract him from his anxiety until he was comfortably holed up in his room with plenty of blankets and toys and emergency snacks on hand. The actual heat itself was usually pleasant enough—Vaughn took care of most of the day-to-day chores and checked in on him periodically, and his suppressors prevented the dizzying and potentially dangerous fevers he used to experience.

But even his top-of-the-line medications couldn’t do anything to soften the inevitable post-heat drop.

Rhys had groaned audibly when he’d woken up this morning to find that the mindless need clenched in his belly had finally abated, leaving him with feeling weak and tired and starving. His room had been a mess, far from the usual immaculate state he liked to keep it in. Half of the blankets that had been periodically piled on top of his bed and twisted around his body during his heat had spilled onto the floor, and several of his pillows were still damp with either drying sweat or slick or saliva. He’d kicked a dildo out of bed as he’d swung his legs over the side, trying to re-balance his center of gravity as he’d looked for some clothes to throw on.

Jeans were too tight around the butt and crotch, so he opted for a pair of navy sweatpants that had been tossed onto the floor. He shivered, still cold from the sudden change in body temperature, so he grabbed the old Hyperion sweatshirt he’d gotten from the intern program and zipped it up around his trembling frame. He cuddled into the soft, well-worn neck of the sweatshirt, fairly content to burrow back into his bed and nap the rest of the day away when his stomach snarled at him.

He rubbed his face with a sigh, before hobbling out towards the kitchen.

However, Rhys was mortified to find his ice cream shelf in the freezer completely empty. His jaw fell open, but he aggressively sniffed back the annoyed tears threatening to build up in his eyes. Oh no, no, he wasn’t going to be one of those omegas who cried after their heats, no matter how much he might want to due to the lack of ice cream.

He peered around the house, hoping he could find Vaughn and whine enough to get his best friend to go out and get ice cream himself, but a message on his ECHO quickly told him Vaughn had long left for work, apparently confident that Rhys’ heat had resolved. Rhys pouted, groaning lowly to himself as he looked towards the door. He really, really didn’t want to go out in this state.

But….but ice cream, the hungry little id in his brain needled at him. Rhys frowned down at his stomach as it growled again.

“Traitor…” The omega whined as he shuffled off in search of his shoes.

As Rhys waddled through the ice cream aisle with a series of plastic slaps, he made a mental note to himself to buy some god-damn flats next time he went on a shopping spree. The bright yellow flip-flops glared accusingly back up at him, a constant reminder of how sloppy and thrown together he really looked.

His hair was a mess, presumably. He hadn’t even bothered to take a look in the mirror before he had left, knowing that it was a limp, tangled mess that couldn’t be salvaged without a shower. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye, cringing at the feeling of gunk clinging to his lid. He was a total mess, an eyesore compared to the young professionals and soccer moms flitting through the grocery store grabbing lunch or buying groceries. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to focus on which type of ice cream he wanted and not the bizarre looks he was probably receiving for his disheveled appearance.

His fuzzy brain spent five minutes trying to decide between Mocha Almond Fudge and Strawberry Swirl Cheesecake blast before he finally dumped both into his basket, hobbling towards the check out counter. The line was long, much to his dismay, so he tried to drift off into daydreaming about eating his ice cream, when a sudden nudge to his side jolted him out of his reverie.

“Hey.”

Rhys blinked dumbly, turning around to look at the man behind him.

His nose, even stuffed up as it was, could instantly tell that he was an alpha. And a pretty handsome one at that—all broad in the chest and shoulders, with bronzed skin and a charming smile and eager, twinkling eyes. He was definitely Rhys’ type, if he were at a bar or browsing dating profiles, but he was at a supermarket and post-heat and honestly embarrassed about his current appearance. He averted his eyes, subconsciosly tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

“Hey, uh, sorry, did you need something?” Rhys gestured vaguely to the rows of impulse candy and other items flanking the cashier lanes.

“Oh, I suppose you could say that, cutie,” the strange alpha grinned, showing off a pair of long, attractive canines. A confused, awkward smile flitted on Rhys’ lips.

Cutie? He had on old, unwashed sweatpants, greasy hair, flip-flops…was this guy blind?

“What ya got there, huh?” The alpha peered into Rhys basket. “Ooh, ice cream. Looking for something sweet, kiddo? Good, ‘cause I’m pretty sweet on you.”

Rhys stared back, flummoxed. The line moved ahead without him for a moment before he managed to stumble forward, not sure how to respond. Pre-heat, he wasn’t surprised when alphas tried to flirt with him, their judgement impaired by pheromones driving them to shack up with an omega for a week’s time. But post-heat—post-heat, unless there was a bond or intimacy present driving an alpha to care for him, there should be no reason for one to try to get with him. Especially when he looked like hell shoved into a bag and kicked off a cliff.

“You…really…” Rhys couldn’t stop the disbelieving tone from invading his voice as he replied to the strange alpha, “is this like…a dare from your buddies or something?”

“Buddies? You think I’m putting you on, sugar?” The alpha placed a hand to his chest in mock-offense. “Please. I’m a gentleman.”

Rhys chuckled softly, a little blush crawling over his cheeks as he unloaded the tubs of ice cream onto the conveyor belt.

“You know…if I knew I was going to meet a handsome alpha at the store, I would have dressed better…” He sighed as he tugged his sweatshirt around him, suddenly self conscious. But the alpha raised his eyebrows, looking at Rhys like he was crazy.

“Crap, if this if you not trying, then I’m pretty sure if I ever see you all dolled up my knot would fall off,” he smirked as he dumped a bottle of expensive wine, a box of condoms, and three huge bags of pretzels onto the counter. A happy smile flickered on Rhys’ lips as he paid the cashier, stuffing the pints into his backpack.

“Really…I mean, I clean up pretty well, if I don’t say so myself,” Rhys quipped, rubbing his arm as the alpha paid for his own items, shrugging them into a reusable bag.

“Oh yeah? Well, that’s something I’d like to see. If you’d be up for it, sweetheart.” A business card flicked slickly into the alpha’s hand, quickly passing to Rhys’ eager fingers.

“Go home, eat some ice cream, take a shower….then call me if you need me. Could use some help finishing this wine, yanno.” He winked, firing a finger gun at Rhys before disappearing through the supermarket entrance. Rhys remained, stunned, as he stared at the name engraved onto the business card.

Jack Lawrence, Hyperion CEO.

ok that bee bath bomb was so cute I just needed to write something with Rhys giving Cyrus a bath with one of those!

“Cyruuus!” Rhys called as he popped the tie off from around his neck, hiding the clip-on in the bottom of his desk drawer underneath the undisturbed, rolled up layer of the proper ties Jack had insisted on buying him for his last birthday. Rhys never liked admitting that he had a problem with anything, and considering he couldn’t get the hang of tying ties no matter how much he tried he’d merely hidden the clip-ons that Jack so hated.

He frowned when he didn’t get a reply from his son, tramping through the halls towards the little boy’s room. He frowned at the toys scattered all over the floor, careful not to step on his son’s toy robots an soldiers as he peered into Cyrus’ usual hiding spots—behind his toy chest, underneath the pile of stuffed animals on his bed—reacting quickly when a bundle of bright yellow sweatshirt suddenly made a bolt towards the door from inside of the closet.

“Aha! Got you, you little monster!” Rhys shouted triumphantly as he scooped Cyrus up easily, wrangling the wiggling child up into his arm as he squeaked in protest.

“Noooo, mama!”

Rhys cradled his wiggly son against his cybernetic forearm, though Cyrus seemed resigned to convincing him with big puppy dog eyes as he carried his son in the direction of the bathroom. The thunderous roar of running water echoed through the halls as Cyrus’ eyes widened.

“I just remembered I took a bath this morning mama it’s okay! I don’t need one!” Cyrus insisted, nodding completely seriously as Rhys raised his eyebrow.

“No kidding. You took a bath all by yourself?”

“Yeah I did while you weren’t looking.”

“Is that so? Then you’ll know exactly what to do!” Rhys grinned cheerfully as he sat his son down on the bathroom door, shutting the door behind him. The omega could sense a potential tantrum coming on as Cyrus looked up at him with wide eyes and a firmly downturned pout, but thankfully Rhys had come prepared.

“Look, okay, I’ve got something to make bath time a lot more fun, okay?” Rhys assured as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet, pulling out the little burlap bag he’d picked up from the fancy body care store he’d visited earlier. Cyrus crossed his arms firmly over his chest, looking on with clear skepticism as Rhys pulled open the tie to the bag and let the item tumble out into his palm.

Fortunately, Cyrus’ expression instantly lit up at the sight of the bath bomb that Rhys had purchased. It was a warm, sandy brown topped with a sparkly, golden brown drizzle and a little friendly cartoon bee. It smelled of honey and vanilla, soothing scents that Rhys knew matched his own.

“What is it?” Cyrus questioned as he cautiously reached out to touch it, rubbing the residual powder between his little fingers. Rhys grinned, standing up and walking over to the steadily filling tub.

“Well, hop in, buddy, and I’ll show you!”

Cyrus quickly shrugged off his clothes and slipped into the bathtub as willingly as Rhys had seen him lately, watching eagerly as Rhys rolled up his sleeves and got onto his hands and knees besides the bathtub.

“Okay….watch now, mama’s about to do some magic.” Rhys winked as he carefully eased the bath bomb into the water, his ears ringing as Cyrus yelled in excitement at the sudden fizzing.

“MAMA IT’S LIKE A SODA IT’S ALL FIZZY!” Cyrus exclaimed, nearly splashing about in his excitement as the bath bomb bobbed and sizzled around in the water, bright swirls of golden brown and yellow and orange. Rhys laughed along with his son’s excitement, swirling his flesh hand into the water and stirring up the colors and glitter.

“See? Mama can make bathtub pretty fun with his magic, can’t he?” Rhys ruffled his son’s hair as Cyrus marveled at the veritable miracle happening before his eyes.

“Yeah! You have magic powers!” Cyrus squeaked, happily playing with the fizzy, gooey remains of the bath bomb as Rhys pooled shampoo in his palm, ready to get his son nice and clean and ready for dinner.

Do you have any fancyomega headcanons with the twist of it being a modern au as well?

I do! I always think of plenty of modern AUs involving the family:

Jack and Rhys are probably co-heads of Hyperion and alternate on and off caring for the boys during the day time. If their schedules dont work out, however, then Rhys can usually rope Vaughn or Yvette or Tim into helping!
They own a decently-sized home, but Rhys had to restrain Jack from buying a disgustingly gaudy mansion, insisting it had to be homey and comfortable still. Doesn’t mean they don’t have a fancy pool and an expensive kitchen, though!
They’re the kind of family who loves to go on vacation, Rhys loves metropolitan romantic cities while Cyrus likes national parks! Jack is good with whatever as long as he has a means to flaunt his money, and Jaxen just goes along with it too haha
I feel like they would have a fair amount of pets, but not too many? Jack probably has a German Shepherd or something like that and I feel he would be the type to have like a savannah cat, and the boys probably have kittens to take care of….Jaxen also has a snake and I feel like Rhys would probably have two doves
In the living room they have normal couches but also a circular, nest-like couch full of pillows for when Rhys is being broody or needs the more specific comfort of a nest. It ends up being a very common cuddle spot for the pets, the boys, and even Jack from time to time :p

Writing prompt 10 for rhysothy maybe?

“10: Broken up couple run into each other near the winter holidays while they’re both lonely”

Rhys had promised himself he would never end up in this position again.

It’s why he’d left Timothy that morning with nothing more than a quick note left on the deserted breakfast table as he had Vaughn pack away his belongings and take him away from the small, cozy apartment he’d shared for the better part of his twenties.

Rhys had promised himself that never again would he be so selfish as to let Timothy welcome him back into his life.

But that was before he had accidentally run into the older man at the quiet, upstate lodge he’d purposefully booked his holiday vacation in due to its solitude and isolation.

Rhys had been ready to simply get into his car and go, drive the hours and hours back to Vaughn’s apartment, but Tim had smiled at him earnestly, his well-muscled body wrapped so tightly in a red and white sweater that its stitching looked like it was about to burst. And the hint of sadness still lingering in Timothy’s eyes as he’d offered Rhys to sit down for a cup of hot chocolate was enough to draw Rhys hopelessly back in until they were resting shoulder to shoulder in front of the grand, roaring fire.

“Tim…” Rhys sighed, turning his head to nuzzle into the older man’s shoulder even as his features hung with trepidation. “I just…I’m worried…”

“You only hurt me when you left…” Timothy whispered into the near-empty cup of his hot chocolate, looking down at Rhys with a sad smile. Rhys swallowed around the lump in his throat, tears starting to brim underneath his eyelids. He heard the scrape of the heavy, comfortable chairs against the wood floor as Tim turned to him, setting down his mug with a clink before cupping Rhys’ face in both hands. Soft fingers rubbed at Rhys’ tear tracks, tipping the young man’s chin up.

Rhys tried closing his eyes, remembering his promise.

“Rhys…honeypie…”

He gasped, eyes flying open at the nickname. Those calming, green orbs glimmered as they smiled down on him, watery with hope.

“God, don’t…” Rhys chuckled hoarsely, wiping at his nose with his sleeve, “you’re gonna make me fall in love with you again….”

“And…I mean…would that really be so bad?” Tim whispered. Their faces were closer now. Rhys could practically feel the warmth radiating off of Timothy’s skin. The smell of pine and fresh snow that seemed to permeate the entire lodge gave way to Tim’s own musky vanilla and cinnamon that reminded Rhys of fresh baked muffins and brewing tea and sunlight filtering over apple red hair.

“No…not at all.” Rhys leaned in close, meeting Tim’s lips in a gentle sigh.

Breaking a promise has never been this much of a relief.

Rhysothy Omegaverse/Mpreg fluff under the cut!

Standalone fics like these will be posted on Patreon 5-7 days before being published here!

Tim liked walking around at night.

They lived in a pretty peaceful neighborhood, after all, and it would be a waste not to enjoy it. He loved how everything looked around twilight, the streetlights just barely starting to flicker on and bath the streets and sidewalks in off-white light in the foreground of the purpling sky above. He could hear the distant sounds of playing children and chirping night birds as they took flight. It was delightful, and he almost lost himself in the peace of the moment when he felt a tug at his wrist.

“Haha, okay, Biscuit okay, I’m sorry bud,” Tim chuckled, returning to his brisk jog as the Golden Retriever besides him quickly broke into a trot, the man and dog keeping pace with one another as they both followed a familiar route through the neighborhood. Tim kept a bright, easy smile on his face as he jogged past the same houses he passed by every day, waving to Janey and Athena as he saw them working on the rusty red card parked in their driveway and even stopping to let Janey pet Biscuit, fluffing up her ears and shooting a begging look back at her alpha.

“How’s Rhys doing?” Athena asked as Janey cooed and got Biscuit to shake paws. Tim smiled softly, mind drifting to the omega back at home.

“He’s doing great…pretty tired lately, but still excited…” Tim shyly scratched the back of his neck as Janey grinned brightly up at him, patting the top of Biscuit’s head as she rose back up to her feet.

“Ace! Can’t wait to meet the lil’ beauties…aw, Timmy you’re making us all think about pups of our own lately,” the beta smirked as she softly elbowed Athena.

“Haha…maybe start off with a dog, first?” Tim offered, clicking his tongue at Biscuit as he continued his walk, waving goodbye back at the pair.

By the time he’s finished his route, it was nearly dark, the sunlight quickly disappearing from the indigo sky as he walks up to his porch, the light quickly flickering on. He unclipped Biscuit’s leash as soon as he opened the door, the dog quickly pattering off into the kitchen, the telltale splash of her water bowl quickly following.

“Rhys?” Tim called, hearing the muffled buzz of the television. When he got no reply back, he walked into the living room, peering around only to find his omega curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Affection rushed through Timothy’s chest at the sight, a smile fluttering over his face as he tiptoed over to the couch and crouched down besides his sleeping mate. He was cuddling his baby blue pregnancy pillow, the fabric beneath his mouth slightly damp with drool from his parted lips. His belly lay comfortably nestled atop the pillow, billowing out from under a loose black shirt that had formerly belonged to Tim, but had since been so stretched out that the alpha had given up all claim to it.

Rhys sweet scent fluttered in his nostrils as Tim sat down next to the couch, resting his head on the cushions besides Rhys’. His hand softly came up to rest against the omega’s belly, not wanting to wake him after he’d managed to get some rest. Their twins were regular acrobats, kicking and turning around in Rhys’ stomach and constantly waking him up throughout the night.

Tim turned his head until his was resting practically nose to nose with Rhys, feeling the feather-light touch of his breathing as his belly rose and fell underneath the alpha’s hand. His scent was soft and soothing, like sweet milk brought to a simmer on the stove.

It had been three years, but Tim still hadn’t gotten over how much he loved Rhys and the life they’d built together—and how much he would love the life they were about to bring into the world together.

Tim gently nuzzled their noses together, scenting his sleeping omega as his hand rubbed affectionately over his belly.

He was absolutely thrilled about becoming a dad. At this point, both he and Rhys were practically counting down the days until his due date, though probably for different reasons. Rhys was getting more and more uncomfortable with the size of his belly, and as much as Tim loved seeing his mate pregnant, he was pretty ready to hold and cuddle his twins in his arms.

He decided to let Rhys sleep for now, pressing a kiss to Rhys’ slack lips as he rose to his feet, leaving Biscuit to lay down protectively by the couch as he went off to fix dinner, knowing that as soon as Rhys woke up from his lap, he’d certainly be hungry for several large helpings of the alpha’s trademark chicken alfredo mac n’ cheese.