#implied past jack/nisha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

apocalyptic-dancehall · 1 year ago

Note

For the violence game 1, 12, 15

1 - the character everyone gets wrong

i'm doing a twofer for this one fuck it

i will literally peel myself alive for every time people think claptrap is JUST annoying or JUST perverted or JUST bossy or JUST depressed and pity-fishing, like yeah those are some of his personality traits, but sometimes a lot of people write him off as JUST those things and it drives me mad! unless you've got good reasons and aren't just blindly hating on him, i don't wanna hear it

first impressions do make an impact however but i feel like too many people think bl3 clap is just claptrap in general and not a case where his writing quality nosedived

and numero dos.. jack

jack is highly entertaining and magnetic, yes, and yet, he is so so so fucking pathetic and somehow SOMEHOW people think he's done nothing wrong! it's all lilith and moxxi and felicity and claptrap and roland and athena's fault (/s) blah blah blah and I DON'T WANNA HEAR ANYMORE OF THAT BULLSHIT

jack is a manipulative, colonizing, misogynist dictator who skins and strangles kittens for fun, has canonically expressed how exhilarating killing people has been even before he became the hyperion ceo, shows little to NO remorse for his actions, has little care for other people's feelings/existence unless they interest him or provide a means to an end for him, burnt down his ex's arena just because they broke up, and despite what he claims, doesn't care much for his top henchmen (timothy's 20-year contract and the subsequent events, wilhelm getting poisoned before heading to the tundra express (without his knowledge), his complete underreaction to nisha (his GIRLFRIEND at the time) most likely dying, and murdering claptrap after taking the h-source from his system), and certainly doesn't give two flying fucks about his own daughter, as seen in this post where it's implied that he beats her (probably after overlook, since angel's only in-person appearance is after that)

12 - the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

CLAPTRAP MY BABY CLAPTRAP MY HONEY CLAPTRAP MY SWEET LITTLE RAGTIME GUYYYYYYY

i'll admit that yes he can be a bit much in bl1 but if you looked past that tiny speedbump he's pretty interesting, like among the biggest things he's done is stage a revolution! a goddamn planet-wide revolution! and why? it's because he saw his fellow claptrap units being mistreated and abused, and while the way he went about it was a bit much (cough cough claptrap did nothing wrong COUGH), he was still fighting for what he believed was right! also him shooting marcus in the back that was so satisfying actually even if it didn't actually happen

and then (chronologically) pre-sequel rolls around. he's paired up with five other people who, while varying in this aspect, hate his guts, and despite that, he still carries a positive attitude! even when he's been broken and traumatized by what he and the others have to do, he carries on. yes he's terrified, yes he wants nothing to do with this, but orders are orders.

cue claptastic voyage. somewhat innocuous enough, just a bit of mind-diving, dubstep-infested insanity, no? it kinda takes a turn when the gang meets shadowtrap, who is basically claptrap's antithesis, he's actually intelligent, calculating, and doesn't sound like bill cipher after having 15 cans of monster back-to-back. through him the vault hunters air out a lot of claptrap's dirty laundry, deal with his intensely repressed guilt in the most violent way possible, and increasingly grow exasperated with him.

right before they head into the cortex, claptrap (well, his personified consciousness) snaps right the fuck out, explicitly spelling it out to them that all he wanted to do was help, and if they didn't want to appreciate his attempts despite everything, they never deserved anything good to go for them in the first place. and still! right as he and shadowtrap meet face-to-face for the last time, after pulling away from the high-five to seal the deal, shadowtrap asks him why. claptrap's reasoning is that they're (the vault hunters) his friends, and despite all of the shit he's been dragged through thanks to them, he's still willing to forgive them for everything. such a thing may have (implicitly) influenced shadowtrap to revive claptrap after the dlc.

bl2 leans HARD into the comedic side of claptrap, for better or for worse, but he still manages to pull through and provide considerable assistance! without him, you would've still been on the southern shelf, without him, there was no way to breach the anti-competitor gate at thousand cuts, and without him, getting into hero's pass was nigh-impossible. the last one especially because claptrap expresses how he's actually done something right for once in a way reminiscent of what happened a couple of years prior and it's very heartwarming for me aaaaaa

i don't have much in the way of bl3 because i haven't played it yet by the time i'm answering this but from what i HAVE seen.. claptrap's definitely lost a lotta fucks and i'm like about fucking time! thing is that they're playing up the joke aspect and kiiinda took away a crucial part of him (his door opening prowess) but!! i think his friendship with ava and baby dancer redeemed him, the former being a nice change of pace post-tales and a good way to garner at least some likability (considering how unpopular ava otherwise is), and the latter having him (and the bl3 vault hunters) come to a girl's house, her revealing that she can't dance anymore because along the 7 or so years between 2 and 3, she lost the use of her legs, and claptrap still dances with her! because he manages to convince her that even though that may be the case, she could still dance with her wheels

oh and he doesn't charge her for any of this. at all. honest to fucking god this was a glimpse of claptrap at his best

tl;dr: claptrap may be totally pathetic and kind of annoying as hell but he'll still do what it takes to make people happy in any way he can, and while it's been used against him quite a bit, he still has a warm-enough heart to try again. thanks for coming to my ted talk

15 - that one thing you see in fanart all the time

maybe not all the time but it's quite often and not at all negative!

it's when people draw other characters sitting on him like a stool. i find it really funny because literally anyone could perch on top of him and he'd still be right-side up. bonus points if he reacts curiously

#responses!#releasing some bottled-up potential here THANK YOU #i er uh. went all out on the claptrap love opes lol #👁‍🗨#📺

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thethespacecoyote · 7 years ago

Text

“I Saw Momma Kissing Santa Claus”

Rhys approached the kitchen slowly, still shook by the rough treatment. His eyes narrowed as he looked over the counter, noticing how close Nisha and Jack were sitting. Even though they were in two different chairs, it looked like she was almost seated in his lap.

Rhys took a seat at the bar across from them, arms folded over his chest. Nisha and Jack seemed to talk to each in gestures and looks as much as actual words, their smirks and gesticulations interweaving with a comfortable ease that had the back of his neck prickling.

Rhys set his lips in a line, watching. His annoyance must be obvious, because Nisha noticed with a smirk.

“Uh oh, watch out, your little pet seems kinda on edge, Jackie.”

Rhys bristled so hard he nearly rivaled the Christmas tree in the corner.

Jackie? She even had a nickname for him? Also pet? Really?

She had some nerve.

The ending to this fic isn’t done yet but I’m getting antsy not having it at least partially posted as it gets further away from Christmas D: So I’m posting most of it now and later tonight I will edit this post to add on the ending and then reblog it again so people can read the full fic!

This is basically sugar baby Rhys getting jealous when Nisha comes to stay during the holidays.

11th day of Requestmas for @sinnamon-jack! Who wanted some sugar daddy AU shenanigans with Rhys Jack and Nisha. This is mostly just Rhack though with some past implied Jack/Nisha and a slightly hinted threesome but nothing explicit yet. Enjoy!

Rhys was special.

He’d come from some inauspicious beginnings, sure—no one exactly aspired to be a coffee shop barista fresh out of college, especially when he had a programming degree—but thankfully his good looks had plucked him out of the hellhole of spilt milk and screeching soccer moms and jumped him directly into Jack’s lap.

Jack treated him like the prince he was. He saw something more in Rhys, which wasn’t to say he didn’t also enjoy the young man’s body and all the fun things they could do with it. They’d been together for over a year now, sharing a second Christmas when many couples didn’t even get to experience a first, and in that time Jack had clearly shown how much he cared for Rhys. He had the receipts to prove it, the marks on his neck should anyone try to dismiss their love. Jack utterly adored him, and Rhys relished every moment of his time bathed in his boyfriend’s attention and love.

He was Jack’s special boy.

So when Jack had come home one day followed by a woman that Rhys had never seen before, arm around her shoulders and laughing and joking all friendly, he’d been put off.

“Hey, Rhysie!” Jack had called him from his perch on the couch, the young man untangling his legs from the tiny throw blanket. The cheerful greeting he’d had for Jack died in confusion on his lips when he first saw the other woman, who teetered on his toes and held onto Jack for support as if his laughter had gotten her drunk.

“Look who I found bumming around outside! I’ve told you about Nisha, didn’t I?”

Nisha. Rhys vaguely remembered Jack mentioning that name on occasion, usually when talking about his past. And now that he looked at her closely, he recognized her from one of the few framed pictures of people other than Jack adorning the walls in the living room. It was a vacation photo, presumably, of Jack and this Nisha in some tropical cay, the both of them flipping off the camera, Jack in a sleek pair of black swimming shorts and Nisha in a plum bikini, her abs rock hard and her boobs squeezed together by Jack’s one-armed hug.

“Oh, right, I vaguely remember you talking about her…” Rhys started, watching the proximity between this woman and his boyfriend as if he were judging a ____ competition. He flinched slightly when Nisha bumped their hips together, nearly sending Jack off balance as she shed his arm, sauntering over and sticking her hand out to Rhys.

“So, this is the little thing Jack’s told me about, huh? He’s cute.” She called over her shoulder. Rhys hesitantly reached out to shake hands, only for Nisha to grab his wrist and pull him in for a hug. He yelped once as their chests bumped together, then against when Nisha reached over his hip and roughly grabbed his ass.

“Hoo boy! You got a ripe one here!” She cackled into his ear.

“Easy on him, Nish,” Jack laughed, peering around the counter separating the living room from the kitchen, hand already in his emergency bag of pretzels. Rhys wiggled helplessly in Nisha’s arms as she nearly lifted him up off of the ground, before suddenly letting go. He yelped, frazzled as he wobbled back on his feet. He rubbed his injured butt ruefully, watching as Nisha plunked down next to Jack at the bar, stealing some pretzels.

He approached the kitchen slowly, still shook by the rough treatment. His eyes narrowed as he looked over the counter, noticing how close Nisha and Jack were sitting. Even though they were in two different chairs, it looked like she was almost seated in his lap.

Rhys set his lips in a line, watching. His annoyance must be obvious, because Nisha noticed with a smirk.

“Uh oh, watch out, your little pet seems kinda on edge, Jackie.”

Rhys bristled so hard he nearly rivaled the Christmas tree in the corner.

Jackie? She even had a nickname for him? Also pet? Really?

She had some nerve.

“How long are you staying here, Nisha?” Rhys asked, as politely as he could muster.

“Hah, you know, I wasn’t really planning on it, I was just thinking of grabbing a fancy hotel room ‘round here.”

“Pfft, you think I’m gonna let you stay in some crappy little room for the holidays when you could be staying here?” Jack snorted. Rhys’ tenuous, polite smile quivered, like a fault-line about to snap.

“Pretty sure the Ritz-Carlton isn’t exactly crappy, but well….if you’re offering…” Nisha grinned, showing off her fang-like teeth. “Been awhile since we’ve slept under one roof, huh Jackie?”

“I’m going to make some coffee, does anyone else want coffee?” Rhys interrupted, scraping his barstool against the floor as he hopped up, busying himself with Jack’s fancy coffee maker that he’d only just recently figured out to use. He poured milk into the tiny pitcher and started to steam it, hoping the tearing, bubbling sound of the foam would drown out any further conversation with Jack and Nisha.

Rhys tipped a little bit of the special-order lavender syrup Jack had bought for him back during his birthday in the peppermint-striped mug he’d gotten last Christmas. Jack had a matching one too, stowed away in the cupboard for now.

Neither Jack or Nisha called to him saying they wanted any, or if they did he was blocking them out. He did heard Jack laugh, probably at some super funny joke that Nisha said or something. Rhys pressed the button for the espresso shots, trying to drown his aggravation in the sounds of coffee beans grinding.

The hot, perfectly foamed little drink did a little to make him feel better, but an unhappy feeling still clawed at his heart as he walked back towards the counter, trying to stave off the slight knit in his eyebrows. Though he was annoyed, he didn’t want to cause a scene. So he kept taking angry sips, licking the foam clean from his upper lip as Nisha and Jack continued their banter as if they were an old married couple.

Ugh.

“Rhysie, you’re fine with Nisha staying for Christmas, right?” Jack asked over his shoulder. Rhys froze, both suddenly looking at him. He forced a smile on his lips, through his eyes were small and humorless.

“If you think that’s a good idea, Jack.”

“Pfft. You kidding? It’s a great idea. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Did Jack just wink? Rhys prayed for his sake it was a trick of the light.

“And you two are gonna get along great, I just know it!” Jack proclaimed, robust with blunt confidence.

Rhys smile dropped off his face like a lead weight, sourly tipping back his festive mug and chugging the rest of his coffee.

Nisha being around wasn’t exactly helping Rhys to think of a proper Christmas present for Jack. And it was already a week before the big day! If he wanted to get anything that had to be ordered and shipped, he needed to think fast, but it was hard when nothing he came up with seemed good enough. It needed to be amazing, to knock Jack off his feet, so he would have eyes only for Rhys and kick Nisha to the curb before Christmas dinner was served.

But his typically reliable shopping source, the internet, wasn’t helping him much when it came to Jack’s gifts. Everything he wanted was far out of his price range, and though he had access to Jack’s credit cards, the guy checked his balance almost obsessively and would definitely figure out what Rhys had been buying through some fervid interrogation. So that left him with his own, dinky little bank account with leftovers from previous paychecks and the occasional cash gifts that Jack had deposited for him.

Ugh. Nothing that Rhys could afford would impress Jack at all!

He realized that, at this point, he would probably have to brave the malls to at least cut off the cost of rushed shipping, and although the thought of shopping filled him with adrenaline even with the thin bank account, getting out of the apartment brought with it another problem. A problem stemming from the source of all his misery lately.

Rhys was conflicted. On the one hand, he really didn’t want to hang around the house all the time while Jack and Nisha reminisced about the good old days but. Even worse was the idea of what kind of shenanigans they might get up to if he wasn’t there to make sure they kept some kind of space between them.

Even when Jack was out and Nisha was there alone Rhys was antsy. She had little respect for personal space. Or knocking before entering. One time, Rhys had been changing, fresh from the shower, when she suddenly slipped in, sauntered over, and sat on the bed.

“Ah!” Rhys had screamed, nearly tangling his legs in his silky pajama bottoms and falling over. She had only laughed, slapping her knees as she sat cross-legged on the bed, right in Rhys’ spot. Where he had just fixed up the sheets.

“Please, kid, there’s nothing you have that I haven’t seen before. Believe me.” She snickered. Rhys flushed down to his neck, backing away from her with his towel clutched against his chest, not trusting her enough to turn his back. She’d already grabbed his butt once.

“It’s not about that,” Rhys hissed, backing up into his closet, hand groping behind him to try to find an undershirt to throw on. Something so that he could stop being naked with Nisha watching him like a hungry dog.

He heard the distant beep of the front door security code, followed by a slamming door that sent his heart leaping.

“Jack—!” He started, foolishly turning towards the door and lowering his towel, which gave Nisha an in to jump up and get all up in his face.

“Oh Jack, Jack!” she mocked, voice pitched up. “Jeez, you really are a fat, pampered little pussycat, aren’t you?” Nisha cackled, poking him in the belly. Rhys blushed, wrapping his arms tight around his middle as he sucked in his stomach.

“I am not.’

“Ohhh yeah? What’s all this, then?” She lunged forward, somehow worming around the cage of his arms to grab at the sides of his hips. He squealed, jumping away and out of her grasp, his cheeks flushing impossibly darker.

“D-Don’t do that!” Rhys cried, loud enough to apparently summon Jack, who appeared in the hallway.

“What are you kids up to, huh?” He grinned. Rhys huffed, skipping over to Jack’s side and wrapping his arms around the man’s waist.

“She called me fat.”

“Fat with a ‘p-h,’ or—“

“No. What? That’s not even…” Rhys fumbled at the terrible joke as Nisha snickered in the background.

“Aw, I was just kidding, Rhysie. Don’t get your boxers in a bunch.” She brushed past them, snapping at Rhys’ waistband as she walked by. He practically jumped into Jack’s arms, glaring after her.

“Jack—“

His boyfriend pecked him on the lips, quieting Rhys’ whines but not wiping off his pout.

“She’s just teasing, pumpkin. C’mon, don’t be so sensitive.”

“I am not sensitive.” He insisted, fingers scrabbling against Jack’s sweater as he shifted away from the doorframe, trying to tug him back into the room. He heard the sound of tearing plastic and the beep of the microwave in the direction of the kitchen—if they were lucky, they could get some cuddling in while whichever frozen dinner Nisha had stuffed their fridge with heated up.

But Jack brushed away his hands, leaving Rhys frustrated and still half-naked and alone watching his boyfriend go off to make small talk.

Everything came to a head when one afternoon, three days before Christmas, Rhys returned home from the mall with empty hands and a tightly wound ball of frustration deep inside his chest.

He had spent the entire trip second guessing every potential gift he’d laid his hands on, eventually taking out his sorrows on a ice cream sundae from one of the little mall kiosks. And then another one.

Now he had a slight stomachache and a deep sense of dread. He wanted little more than to curl up in his bed and cry and maybe order Jack a keychain online so he had something, but—of course—when he walked through the door there was Nisha, sitting with her feet up on the coffee table, watching television and painting her nails.

“Kitty finally found his way home, huh?” Nisha rolled a peppermint around her tongue

“…Unfortunately…” He had little desire to act civil around her anymore. He shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the coat rack and nearly tipping it over.

He needed coffee in his hand two minutes ago.

Feet thumped against the slate tile behind him as he reached up for a fresh bag of beans in the pantry. He could feel Nisha’s eyes on him, but hoped she would leave as he processed a couple scoops of beans in their grinder. But as he patted the grounds out into the little filter he heard her sigh, like Rhys’ presence was the one inconveniencing her.

He tilted his head slightly over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes.

“What?”

Nisha pursed her lips.

“I’ve been sensing a little hostility here, Rhysie.”

“Don’t call me that,” Rhys hissed, his patience running very thin as he grabbed the jug of almond milk from the fridge and poured it into the little pitcher.

“Me-ow. All right,” Nisha snarked, hands on her hips as she looked him over. Her eyes yellow, slitted like a wolf’s. Carrying that same bossy, predatorial air that she’d kept over him her entire stay. Well, Rhys was sick of it.

“You think you can come into my house and tell me how to act and talk? You really have some fucking nerve!” he snapped, slamming the milk carton against the counter it splashed all over his hand. But he didn’t care as he whirled around, little frothy drips splattering on the floor. For the first time, Nisha had the sense to show an expression other than detached snark.

“Hmm. I’m thinking this goes a little deeper than just some dishes left out or a borrowed toothbrush. Spill, kid, what’s your damage?”

“You think I’m gonna just bro down with you and tell you everything about me?” Rhys raised his eyebrow, letting out a short, derisive laugh. “I want you away from me, I don’t want to have to talk it out!”

Nisha’s purple nails rapped viciously against her hipbones.

“So you’re just a spoiled little brat, is that it? Fuck, how does Jack put up with you?”

“Because he loves me!” Rhys seethed, cheeks growing flush with anger. “I know that. Because I know him.”

“Pfft. As if. You don’t know him as well as I do, kid.”

“Oh yeah?” Rhys eyes glittered with a challenge. “You’d be surprised. I have been living with him for over a year.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him since he was a zit-faced teenager. Pre-plastic surgery.” She laughed at Rhys’ shocked expression. “Yeah. Bet he never told you that?”

“You’re lying.”

“Cross my heart. You think Jack can’t afford the best surgeon around?”

“Why are you doing this?” Rhys hissed, nose scrunching like an angry animal. “Do you just want to break us up or something? Get back into Jack’s life? Is that it?”

Nisha blinked owlishly, golden eyes wide with surprise.

“Is that why you’ve been so fucking hostile ever since I came here?”

Rhys’ eyebrows clenched together.

“Yes, sorry for being a little possessive of my boyfriend.”

Nisha stared for a moment, lips parted, before deflating and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Look, I’m not trying to steal your daddy, kid. Nuh-uh. I’ve already rode that train and it’s nice, but I’m a one-way kind of gal.” She waved dismissively. “You can have him.”

“Well…..thanks, I guess.” Rhys relented slightly, a bit of the tension draining out of him.

“I know you probably won’t anyway, but trust me. You’re a really cute twink. Jack loves cute little guys like you. Almost as much as he loves girls with tits bigger than mine.” Her voice edged into a slightly sour territory, before bouncing back.

“You seem a little tightly wound though, sweetie, something up? Jackie’s not eyeing other boys, is he?” Rhys shook his head.

“No, it’s not that…”

“Well, the offer to ‘spill’ still stands, Rhysie.”

Rhys sighed, palming his temples as his feelings suddenly came vomiting out.

“Sorry. It’s just. I don’t know what to get Jack for Christmas, I wanted to buy him something with my own bank account but all the money is his and if I use his card he’s going to notice but all the things I think he might like are too expensive and it’s getting so close to Christmas and overnight shipping is like fifty dollars and I don’t know what to—“

“Woah woah woah there, breath, little guy—“ Nisha stopped him, thumping her palms against his shoulders. Rhys roughly swallowed down the rest of his words.

“S-sorry…it’s just been…a lot.” He eked out as Nisha rubbed his shoulders, the gesture weirdly comforting. She had nice strong hands, just like Jack.

Rhys flopped his head forward, letting out a tight sigh.

“I really need some coffee…”

“Pop a squat there, kid, I’ll finish it up for you.” Nisha patted his face before directing him towards the bar and forcing him to sit on one of the stools. He zoned out a bit, absently popping the button on his cuff as he listened to the bubble of milk and espresso. He gratefully took the cup from Nisha when she sat down besides him, pleased to find it was his Christmas mug. Fortunately, the warmth and caffeine helped him relax a little more. He thanked her quietly, voice still a little hoarse from upset.

“No problem, Rhysie.” She patted his forearm as he took gentle sips, gradually calming down. For the first time since Nisha had come to stay, the air was serene between them, zapped of the previous strain.

Rhys perked up as Nisha suddenly hummed, tapping her fingers against her lips.

“I do wanna help you get him a nice gift though, kid. ‘Cause I’ve been talking to him a lot and he’s…he seems pretty happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She shrugged. “He’s always been a sucker for spoiling people, and if you’re soaking that up like a sponge rather than getting weirded out then well…it’s no wonder he fell for you.”

Rhys’ heart thumped in his chest, blushing.

“Ooooh, hold it. I think I got the perfect idea.” A devilish little smile flitted across Nisha’s purple lips.

“Uh huh?”

“Yeah…lets be honest….there’s only one thing that Jack really wants for Christmas.”

Rhys cocked his head.

“What’s that?”

“You.”

Christmas Eve had come so quickly Jack could feel his head spin.

Things were always a touch more hectic than usual around the season at Hyperion—which was saying something, considering the usual corporate shenanigans Jack had to deal with the rest of the year. Last minute meetings and project approvals had dogged him in the last few days, so finally being able to leave the office in the early afternoon had been as refreshing as that first inhale of crisp air as he stepped out of the building.

Traffic was blissfuly light on the drive home, and without any last minute gifts to buy or plans to arrange Jack felt totally relaxed.

Everything was ready—the fridge already stuffed with food both for tonight and tomorrow evening, the decorations already hung with meticulous care, Rhys’ presents laid out underneath the Christmas tree. Jack thought he’d out done himself this year. Last Christmas, Rhysie had got a mountain of presents from him. This year, it was practically an entire mountain range, circling around the tree and trailing off along the wall towards the entertainment center. Every inch professionally wrapped, topped with elaborate bows and twirls of ribbons like some kind of ritzy art display.

Jack tapped his code on the apartment’s keypad, ready to unwind and rest for a bit before he got started on Christmas Eve dinner.

But the massive present sitting square in the middle of the living room put those plans on hold.

Jack blinked, sliding his laptop bag onto the couch as he approached the huge gift with confusion and trepidation. The present was slightly taller than he was with the added height of the messy blue bow popped on top. It had been wrapped rather clumsily, bare side of the paper exposed and stuck down with criss-crossing layers of tape. He reached out, not sure if he should touch it.

The packaged rumbled, its bow trembling. Jack could hear noises from within, soft grunting and scratching up against the walls. Just when Jack was about to grab his knife on the hunch some enemy of his had wrapped up a wild animal and shipped it to his place when whatever was inside punched out. Jack watched as painted nails tore through the blue and gold wrapping paper, ripping open a bigger and bigger hole before another hand joined it and opened up the box like a door.

Jack’s eyes widened with surprise as Rhys slipped out of the present, shedding off any clinging paper and ribbon as he stepped out into the living room. The young man was dressed from head to toe in a sexy reindeer costume, but nothing like the cheap tacky ones they sold in dollar stores. Realistic fur tastefully covered the young man’s chest and tufted on his hips, complimenting the red leather lingerie tight against Rhys’ skin. Dainty gold jingle bells glittered on the shoulder straps and garter belts, and high heels stylized to look like hooves bumped Rhys up an extra inch or two. Realistically carved plastic antlers sat atop his head, set in a headband that also sported a pair of spotted, fluffy ears—completing the look.

And what a look it was. Jack had never wanted to fuck a deer more than he did in that second.

Rhys struck a coy pose, fingers curled underneath his chin as he fluttered his eyelashes at Jack. A grin split the older man’s face from ear to ear, glowing with passion as he practically stepped forward and wrapped his arm tight around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Rhys, Rhysie, you perfect lil’ peach of a pumpkin, you make the prettiest present I ever saw!” Jack nearly kissed the peppermint gloss off his lips as he brought Rhys in close, his nose bumping against Rhys’ own and smearing a bit of the red makeup on the tip.

“What do you think?” Jack broke from Rhys’ lips, turning to see Nisha leaning against the doorway leading into the bedroom hall, a knowing grin on her face.

“You helped out with this?” He breathed, feeling Rhys’ kissing insistently along his cheek. Nisha remained unfazed by the way Rhys was grinding his furry little hips against Jack’s body, looking more proud than anything else.

“Of course, he needed someone to wrap the present for him! Can’t exactly do that while he’s, yanno, inside.”

Jack snorted, hand falling to Rhys’ hip to stave his needy crotch off just a little longer.

“You two getting along. Cooperating? That’s a frikkin’ Christmas miracle right there.”

“Mmm, lets just say I got into the spirit of the holiday.” Nisha shrugged away from the doorframe, sticking one hand in her pockets. With the other she shot a finger gun, using a finger to tip up her hat.

“Anyway, I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds to it. And that’s real fur, Jackie, so try not to get any fluids on it, ‘kay?” She started to head towards the door when Rhys suddenly broke away from Jack, prancing over to her with a jingle in each step.

“Hold up—“ Rhys lowered his voice as Nisha turned, craning her neck in to hear him.

“Even sex won’t budge Jack from his dinner plan—believe me, I know—“ Rhys laughed softly. “It’s probably still going to be at seven….come back for that, okay? I promise if he makes a mess I’ll force him to clean up.”

“I believe it. In that outfit, he’s gonna be putty in your hands…all right, kid. Momma will meet ya for dinner.” She ruffled his hair affectionately, the blush on Rhys’ cheeks deepening almost to match his nose.

“Thank you,” Rhys whispered, before bounding back to Jack’s side, kissing the older man’s suspicious look off his face. Nisha smirked as she moved out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her just as Rhys pounced on Jack and pushed him down on the couch, the muffled sounds of randy jingle bells quickly filling the air.

#spacetext #long post #fanfic #12 Days of Requestmas #rhack #sinnamon-jack #tftbl #implied past jack/nisha

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