Tag: text

Prompt: rhackothy, blood

Jack’s mouth is already red with blood by the time Rhys manages to pull him away. 

He can feel the alpha’s pulse beating in his throat as Rhys tries to scent him, calm him down enough to defuse the situation. His eyes flicker fearfully to Tim, but to his relief the other alpha manages to sit up, hand clasping to the thankfully shallow pricks of red standing out against his tanned throat. 

“Fuckin’….alphas…” Rhys gasps hoarsely, glaring from Jack and Tim as he pointedly rips the buttons off his shirt, exposing plentiful creamy, tender flesh. 

“You really think I can’t handle the both of you?”

One work prompt Rhysquez and chickens

It was definitely odd to see Hugo, usually so meticulously dressed in corporate finery, clad in a pair of jeans and a slightly dirty white shirt that clung to his sweaty pecs.

It was even more odd to see that slick, conniving smile meld into something softer and more genial as he tossed a handful of feed out to the chickens that swarmed out of the coop and crowded around his and Rhys’ legs. 

“Hugo Vasquez as a down-home farmhand….I think I’ve seen everything,” Rhys snickered as he got down on his knees, extending out a hand to pet one of the chickens in the way Hugo’s mother had taught him earlier. The chicken clucked gently, feathers ruffling as Rhys stroked his hand down her back, a content feeling settling warm inside of him.

Maybe this vacation had been a good idea after all. 

For the prompt meme: timhelm & big ;)

Tim usually hated heights, which was awful considering the necessity of low-gravity leaps of faith out on Elpis. 

But there was something about being cradled in those big, muscular arms, way up in the air and starting to edge on the point where Tim started to feel uncomfortable, that somehow made them a lot less scary. 

It happened most of the time when Tim nearly walked into a trap or in the line of fire, but sometimes in a hodgepodge shelter he’ll fall asleep and wake to the feeling of Wilhelm picking him up in his arms and carrying him over to someplace more comfortable. 

And if Tim sometimes pretended to fall asleep in odd positions and places, then well, nobody else needed to know that.

For a one word prompt rhack and sons.

Rhys had gotten so tied up in testing out the new upgrades to his arm that he’d nearly forgotten he’d promised to make the kids dessert tonight. 

He raced back home to the penthouse, cursing at the time displayed on his palm as he walked through to the living room, apology already on his lips–when his eyes fell upon the couch. 

Jack was laying there, dozing, with Cyrus wedged between his body and the cushions and Jaxen curled atop his chest, moving up and down with the alpha’s soft breaths. 

A happy smile crept across Rhys’ face at the sight. He placed a gentle kiss atop each of their forehead’s before skittering off to the kitchen, hoping to get a head-start on the ice cream before the rest of his family woke up. 

Rhack and the prompt word tattoo, if ya please. <3

“Did I ever tell you how much I like this lil’ design of yours, pumpkin?” 

Jack rubbed his face against the side of Rhys’ neck like a cat, licking right in the middle of the circular tattoo emblazoned on his skin. The young man shivered, tendons in his neck bulging out against Jack’s sharp teeth. 

“It’s like a little target….telling me right where to….bite.”

Rhys yelped at the warm puncture on his neck, tilting his head against Jack’s shoulder as the man left his tattooed skin pink and tender. 

Rhackisha and ‘aftermath’?

There are two bodies down on Pandora. 

Rhys has sent the proper scouts to retrieve them, to bring them to Helios before scavengers–animal or human–decide to desecrate the remains of those who brought him up to his current height. 

If those wretches, those murderers know what is good for them, they’ll stay far away and give Rhys the opportunity to mourn. 

Because there is still one god left up in the sky. 

Rhysquez, “falling”

“God damn it.”

Vasquez raises his head up, shaking off the grip of sleep that had begun to settle over him. He furrows his brows, wrapping his arms a little tighter around the smaller man he was spooning up against.

“What is it?” He asks, brows furrowing to match Rhys’, though Rhys looks decidedly less confused and more bewildered, annoyed, as he looks back up at Vasquez and says:

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

i kind of hate the trend of posting your random or otherwise badly spelled starbucks cup name on social media because it’s just a circlejerk of “haha those inferior customer service workers are Dumb” when really it’s because i don’t actually care much about what your name is and when there’s a line out to the door i need to speed things up so i’m not going to ask you again when you mumbled the first time and just rely on you to remember what you actually ordered at the hand off