Much thanks to @bredbydemons for doing such a lovely job on this commission! 😉

“Inhuman Resources”

Jack couldn’t remember the last time someone had been strong enough to pick him up, but Zer0 lifted him effortlessly, as if he were out in zero gravity. One long arm hugged around Jack’s hips, propping him up against their chest. Jack sat back against Zer0’s forearm, feeling strange and precarious being carried like this. Zer0 wasn’t exactly warm, considering the unknowable makeup of their body and the thick layers of bodysuit material, and yet as as grew used to it Jack gradually felt comforted in their lanky embrace.

Zer0/trans!Jack commission for @herkal. Ovi and tentacle dicks in here c:

Jack trusted few people. He trusted even fewer vault hunters. So some might say he’d been foolish for hiring a former assassin, someone who had previous desires to take him and his company down, as a bodyguard. But Jack hadn’t gotten this far thinking inside the box.

Besides, a collar rigged with explosives was more than enough to soothe his nerves.

Not that Zer0 was an unruly underling. Quite the contrary. They were poised and quiet, and above all incredibly, almost horrifically skilled. Several times already, Jack had had his gun half out of his holster to thwart an assassination attempt or even just shot someone who was pissing him off through the head, only for Zer0 to have already bisected them or sent their heads spinning to the glossy floor in a spray of blood. And while Jack definitely appreciate the gory fanfare, he hoped having such a skilled companion nigh all hours of the day didn’t lead to him losing his touch. Thankfully, that wasn’t something the occasional trip to the shooting range wouldn’t fix.

It wasn’t all bloodbath and ninja swords, though. Most of the time Zer0 simply stood by his side in his office, rarely showing much interest in anything Jack was doing or really saying anything at all. Jack didn’t really mind, honestly. He quickly grew used to it.

Which was why when he heard a metallic thump one day, he didn’t think much of it until he swiveled around in his chair to find his assassin collapsed on their knees, one elongated hand pressed quizzically up against their middle.

“What’s the matter with you? Eat some bad shrimp?” Jack joked. Come to think of it, he’d never actually seen Zer0 eat. Or take off their mask.

“It is my cycle,” Zer0 replied mechanically after a long moment, even as their hand continued to rub across their stomach, “there is burning right down here, I must care for it.”

“Whuzzat? Burning? Cycle?” Jack blinked rapidly. A displeased, oddly green emoticon flashed over Zer0’s helmet.

“It’s hard to explain, when I am feeling this way, I need to have sex.”

The bluntness of the assassin’s tone surprised Jack. Zer0 had never shown any particular needs common to the humans he was surrounded by. Jack had figured that the assassin just didn’t have those impulses, which was whatever—all he had really needed from Zer0 up to this point was their razor sharp senses and combat abilities.

“You….You don’t say….sex, huh?” Jack wheeled himself closer, observing Zer0’s crouched form with the detached interest of a satellite.

“There is little time, quite soon I will need to breed, I must find someone.”

“Breed, huh? So, you’re saying I should get you some kind of sexy lady alien…or. Cyborg. Or whatever.” He had no clue. As far as he knew, Zer0 could be three kids in a bodysuit.

Jack stroked his chin as he watched Zer0’s hand drift down, halting just above their groin. Jack cocked his head, waiting for Zer0 to continue, but they did nothing until Jack let out a terse sigh.

“You just need…what, you need like a hole to fuck, or do you have like….specifics or something…”

Zer0 turned their head towards Jack, a thinking ellipses appearing on their mask.

“Whoever it is, they would have to be all right, with holding my brood.”

“Brood? So uh….what does that mean, exactly. Like. Babies?” A bunch of little Zer0s might be kind of cute. Jack could probably make a whole strike force outta them as soon as they could hold a sword.

“They are infertile, they will not grow inside you, but they are my eggs.”

“Eggs. Oh. Eggs. Okay. Sure.” Jack tried feigning disinterest as a little thrill of pleasure rang through his core. No one knew about his secret porn browsing habits, of how often he hacked into weirder, slimier parts of the ECHOnet to find some primo alien porn. He’d stumbled across a particular sub-genre on accident—voyeuristically shot films of actresses getting plowed by a variety of alien fauna, either sentient or not. Bizarre creatures with weird dicks and the capacity to make the skinny girls’ bellies swell and round with cum or the occasional slippery, oozy lifeforms. He’d definitely seen a couple clips of some pushing big, round eggs out of their pussies too, and at first it scared him how much it’d turned him on but now that he was faced with the reality of living out his sick fantasy he felt little more than exhilaration.

But he couldn’t exactly let Zer0 know that. He was still the assassin’s boss, after all, and though the former Vault Hunter was working for him now, he still couldn’t afford to let a rumor get out about his less glamorous fantasies. So he continued to play the part of the genteel, self sacrificing benefactor, willing to let his employee use his body out of the pure goodness of his heart.

“All right. Well I can’t exactly like my precious bodyguard suffer through this alone. I graciously offer myself. That work for you, pumpkin?” Jack slapped his thighs before rising to his feet. Zer0 was still for a moment before they nodded slowly.

Jack wasn’t about to start beating around the bush. Not now, when he was kind of…interested to see what Zer0 had to offer sexually. He started to fidget with the buckle on his pants, yanking down the fly and letting the garment fall to the floor. He pressed his thighs together as Zer0 watched him impassively, not really looking like somebody waist deep in a hormonal rut. Jack felt a bit awkward as Zer0 stared at his crotch, analyzing the little puff of hair decorating his pussy. His big hands started fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt when suddenly Zer0 rose to their feet and strode over in a wink, placing their hands on his hips. Jack shivered slightly, the textured palms of Zer0’s bodysuit feeling strange on his bare skin.

“This will do nicely, you have much space inside you, will it be all right?” The assassin questioned, helping Jack to step out of his pooled pants and shoes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine. What kind of boss would I be if I didn’t help out a needy employee?” Jack puffed his chest out in confidence, before glancing about the office.

“So. Uh. Where do you want me? How is this gonna….like….go.”

“I’m fairly certain, for the best results tonight, I should carry you.”

“Uh…carry me?” Jack felt skeptical, but Zer0 was bigger and taller than he was, and the CEO hovered at around an average weight. Besides, his desk was a bit of a mess right now and he really didn’t want to have to re-arrange and reorganize everything if it got shuffled around during their sex.

“All right. Guess you probably know what’s best with…this.” Jack held his arms up, making his body easier for Zer0 to hold on to.

Jack couldn’t remember the last time someone had been strong enough to pick him up, but Zer0 lifted him effortlessly, as if he were out in zero gravity. One long arm hugged around Jack’s hips, propping him up against their chest. Jack sat back against Zer0’s forearm, feeling strange and precarious being carried like this. Zer0 wasn’t exactly warm, considering the unknowable makeup of their body and the thick layers of bodysuit material, and yet as as grew used to it Jack gradually felt comforted in their lanky embrace.

Zer0 walked briskly, with Jack in their arms, until they were pressing him up against the massive window cresting the office. Jack’s back rested up against the solid glass, wedging him nicely between the unshakable pane and the careful hold of the assassin’s arms.

His pussy twitched in excitement as one of Zer0’s long-fingered hands slid down their stomach—which Jack noticed suddenly, seemed slightly swollen compared to the rest of their lanky frame—and to their groin. Jack watched as the fabric parted, or changed, or something, because one moment there was nothing more than the smooth meet of their thighs and the next something was morphing and bulging outwards—growing, lengthening—

Jack wasn’t sure what he had expected Zer0’s genitalia to look like, but he didn’t know if he could have conjured up something like this even with his imagination firing full-blast. It almost looked like some of the odd Pandoran flora he’d seen being grown in R&D, except a dark grey—metallic, like someone had melted down a shotgun into malleable, pulsing flesh. Tentacles of varying lengths curled and writhed around a longer, stouter looking shaft, almost like a thick stalk jutting impudently up between his splayed legs. Thin veins, full of teal blood or fluid or cum or whatever bulged and glowed in certain places around the shaft, and the entire alien affair secreted a bright, neon green lube that dripped like radioactive ooze onto the floor below. Jack craned his neck, pointing down towards Zer0’s groin.

“So….guess you’re confirmed for ‘alien,’ huh?”

“Quite an assumption, there is no real way to know, if I’m organic.”

“Guess you could just be….a reeaaaally advanced cyborg or something…” Jack honestly didn’t really care much about Zer0’s exact species in this moment. All he really knew was that that cock was huge and pulsing and wet and he wanted it inside of him ten minutes ago. He wiggled his hips eagerly as Zer0 carefully moved their groin close to Jack’s ass, his genitalia wriggling as if it were a separate entity from Zer0 entirely.

Jack grunted as the tentacles started to lap over the heavy folds of his pussy, the slime from Zer0’s genitals already beginning to mix with his natural lube. The side of the assassin’s heavy shaft rubbed between his folds, the head resting up against his lower belly as those root tentacles started to pry inside of him, wiggling their oozing tips into his hole. Jack gasped at the sudden pressure against his clit, his hole growing wetter and slicker as the winding tentacles stretched him out in preparation for assassin’s cock.

It felt far stranger than anything Jack had ever had up his cunt before, like boneless fingers or worms, and if you had asked him a day, no, mere hours before if either of those options sounded sexy he would have probably laughed or pulled a face. But right now it felt so damn good that he didn’t want it to stop—he wanted more of the assassin in him immediately, filling him to the brim and making him cry out in pleasure against the window of his own office.

“Hah…Z-Zer0….please…c’mon, more…” Jack demanded breathlessly as the tentacles probed around inside of his pussy. He sobbed a little when that sweet pressure left him, but the emptiness didn’t last long. Zer0 adjusted him slightly in their arms until the head of their cock pressed between the slick folds of Jack’s pussy, nudging its way towards his entrance as the smaller tentacles coiled around the thick shaft like vines.

Zer0’s cock felt huge, even with the lube and preparation provided by the tentacles. Jack gritted his teeth, hissing as the flared head caught on the fleshy ring of his hole. Zer0 pushed in with as much measured slowness as they could manage, but the need to breed soon dampened their patience. Jack’s teeth ground against each other, a strangled yelp escaping his mouth as Zer0 shoved the head of his cock all the way in, allowing Jack a moment’s respite before they were sinking the rest of the way in. Jack clutched at Zer0’s shoulders, nails digging into the metallic fiber of the assassin’s bodysuit.

Zer0 fucked him slowly at first, their hips moving in a steady, rolling rhythm aided by the gradual push and pull of the ancillary tentacles. However, after a minute or so they started to pick up the pace, rutting into Jack faster and faster, their cock hardly pulling in and out so much as keeping itself constantly buried inside of Jack and rutting its head against the furthest part of his insides it could reach. It penetrated unnaturally deep inside of him, further than any cock he’d been fucked by or toy he’d used on himself.

Zer0’s come took him slightly by surprise, a sudden slap of hot fluid inside his pussy that had him jolting and shivering at the sudden contrast. He whined, toes curling as more and more come throbbed into him. He could feel it traveling upwards, further than any release from any of his previous partners. Maybe that was from how deep Zer0 was embedded inside of him, or the sheer force with which the assassin was squeezing their cum inside—he couldn’t tell for certain, nor did he care to with the pleasure rocketing through his body. His own cum slicked around the fat girth of Zer0’s swollen cock, cunt trembling and juicy as the assassin flooded his system with heavy, alien cream.

And then the eggs started to come.

Zer0’s cock suddenly started to swell up an extra couple of centimeters, a heavy orb soon starting to press up against Jack’s already stretched and glistening entrance. He moaned, his insides fluttering as the first egg started to push through, forcing him to open up wider and wider until it finally slid completely inside of him. He gritted his teeth at the sudden pressure, the fullness making the muscles in his cunt quiver. It was strange, one of the strangest things he’d ever felt, but he couldn’t possibly deny that it cranked this ungodly pleasure up to ten.

Jack’s heels dug into Zer0’s slim back as more and more of the eggs were steadily pumped into him. He could feel his stomach starting to bloat against his tight waistcoat but he was too busy clutching onto Zer0’s shoulders for purchase to do anything about it. Thankfully, the assassin had managed to keep their wits about them, and deftly undid the clasps on Jack’s clothing, saving him what could’ve been a humiliating trip to the tailor. His open waistcoat and dress shirt fell to either sides of his body, exposing his bare middle.

His pale, usually sunken belly was starting to fatten, flesh tightening slowly over the eggs being shoved into his womb. Jack wanted to cringe, wanted to be sick but he felt little more than a titillating warmth alongside the slight bloated discomfort. His cunt was wet and puffy, flesh swollen with blood as arousal rushed down to his groin. His clit twitched, red and hard and pressed against the thick shaft of Zer0’s cock as it bulged and pulsed with eggs. Jack whined, eyebrows pinching upwards as more slime and eggs were pushed up into him, his stomach starting to bulge out awkwardly with smooth, rounded shapes.

“Ohh…ohh…wow…you r-really weren’t kidding…” Jack huffed, his breath starting to grow more strained as the weight of eggs in his womb started to press on the surrounding organs. He wondered briefly how much he could possibly stretch and if he could even fit Zer0’s full clutch inside of him, but that worry was quickly lost amidst the pleasure thrumming through him as more and more eggs pushed through his sensitive pussy.

Zer0 had mostly stilled, no longer thrusting and jostling. They placed their hand on Jack’s stomach, lightly, as not to disturb the eggs still filing into Jack’s innards. Their hands were still cool, despite the intensity of their breeding sex, and it felt good on the steadily stretching muscles underneath Jack’s bloated flesh.

He had lost track of his orgasms at this point, the eggs relentless against the sensitive inner walls of his pussy, sheathed shells constantly pushing up against his swollen clit as they worked their way inside of him. He panted, his throat rough and hoarse as Zer0’s full clutch was stuffed into him. His belly had grown nearly twice its normal size, rounding out in a plump curve with the lumpy shapes of the eggs packing tightly into his womb.

Just when the firmness in his belly started to grow uncomfortable, the flood of eggs finally began to slow. Zer0 held him close, caressing his hips soothingly as the last bit of the clutch rolled up inside of him, follow by one last pulse of fluid that seals the eggs together deep within his full womb.

Jack lay slack in Zer0’s arms for several minutes, recovering from the tingling of his overstimulated body, before his hands finally fell from Zer0’s shoulders and came to rest curiously atop his stomach. He could feel the shapes of the clutch beneath him, its warmth as it rested comfortably inside of him. The shells of the eggs were not hard, rather they felt malleable to the touch, giving in slightly as if he were filled with a dense, vicious jelly.

“Nnngh…you really…packed ‘em in there…didn’t you?” Jack panted, swollen belly rising and falling with his labored breaths. A cheeky emoticon flashed over Zer0’s mask, bumping the sleek material against Jack’s cheek affectionately.

After a couple of minutes, Zer0 rotated him carefully, cock still thick and stuck inside of him. They kept their long arms wound carefully about Jack, one supporting underneath his knees while the other lightly draped over his trembling chest. Without disturbing the CEO too much more, Zer0 stepped like liquid over to the CEO’s throne and sat with the man in their lap. Jack was far too exhausted and fucked out to care that the assassin was sitting in his chair and merely leaned back against the assassin’s chest, head tucked against Zer0’s long neck as he slowly fell asleep.

“Lick the Spoon”

“Is there a reason we have to be tied up?” Timothy moaned, wiggling against where he’d been bound down on one of the dining room chairs. Rhys, on the other hand, seemed to mostly accept his fate, idly watching as Jack prepared the finishing touches on a particularly large strawberry shortcake. Just as Jack had conditioned him—Rhys had been his guinea pig for some fun sessions involving cream puffs and cupcakes. But with his body double here, the fun was well—uh, doubled.

Jack raised an eyebrow at Tim, lifting a spoon from the steel bowl of whipped cream. He walked over to Rhys, putting a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the laden utensil to his lips. Rhys obediently lapped out with his cute pink tongue, cleaning the spoon free of cream while Tim watched.

“Drama queens don’t get free samples, Timmy.”

Anonymous commission with Rhackothy and stuffing/food kink thanks to Jack’s propensity for stress-baking 🙂 This one was fun too!

The air inside the penthouse was filled with delicious aromas, buffeted around by the cool breeze of the state-of-the-art ventilation system. The sound of clanging pans and spoons and dishes had largely given way to a rich silence, so thick it could be cut with one of the deft paring knives Jack was using to slice a bowlful of strawberries into blossoming flowers.

There was a menagerie of pies, cakes, cookies, and other delicious baked goods lying strewn about the countertop, all the product of one of the eccentric CEO’s bouts of baking madness.

Usually, Jack would eat a couple of his creations over the next few days, and either airlock the rest or smash them in the faces of some hapless, unsuspecting employees. Or maybe tell his men to let ‘em grow stale and then launch a couple at some Pandoran bandits. And sure, all of these were fun alternatives, but this time, he had a couple eager participants willing to help him make a dent in the sizable spread.

Well, mostly willing.

“Is there a reason we have to be tied up?” Timothy moaned, wiggling against where he’d been bound down on one of the dining room chairs. Rhys, on the other hand, seemed to mostly accept his fate, idly watching as Jack prepared the finishing touches on a particularly large strawberry shortcake. Just as Jack had conditioned him—Rhys had been his guinea pig for some fun sessions involving cream puffs and cupcakes. But with his body double here, the fun was well—uh, doubled.

Jack raised an eyebrow at Tim, lifting a spoon from the steel bowl of whipped cream. He walked over to Rhys, putting a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the laden utensil to his lips. Rhys obediently lapped out with his cute pink tongue, cleaning the spoon free of cream while Tim watched.

“Drama queens don’t get free samples, Timmy,” Jack shook his head, ruffling Rhys’ hair as he strode back over to the kitchen counter. He kissed his fingers at the sight of the flawlessly put-together shortcake, every berry plump and shiny, the whipped cream perfect as new-fallen snow on a sub-zero planet.

“Why…do I need free samples, when you’re just going to force us to eat it all…” Tim groaned, eyeing the cake suspiciously as it was placed on a fancy, decorative stand. “Why do we have to do this anyway?”

Jack sighed as he returned to the table with an elegant gold server, cake knife, utensils, and two yellow and black-rimmed dining plates.

“Because, kiddo, daddy had a rough day and needed to unwind, and he’s so graciously sharing the fruits of his labor with his two faaaaaavorite buddies on the whole space station.”

“But can’t you just eat it yourself?” Tim whined as Jack brandished the cake knife, the golden flat of the blade glimmering in the dimmed lighting of the dining room. Jack shook his head, looking at Tim as if he were chastising a small, stupid child.

“Tim. Tim, Tim, Tim, Timmy. This manly physique,” Jack gestured down at his torso, “is a delicate balancing act, dummy. Don’t wanna tip it too much in either direction, ‘kay?”

“Jack…I think it’s too late for that…” Rhys piped up, a little smirk on his face that persisted even as Jack rounded on him with an upset pout.

“Jeez, Rhysie, shut your mouth unless you wanna forfeit your ‘first slice’ privileges.” Jack waggled the knife warningly, before finally sinking the elegant blade into the soft, yielding cake. Rhys kept his lips closed, but they remained curled with amusement as Jack cut the first slice.

“Peeeerfect,” Jack whistled as he lifted up the perfectly formed piece, the soft layers of white cake and red jam perfectly distinct and gorgeous. He deposited it delicately on Rhys’ plate, eagerly rubbing the young man’s shoulder as he dug a fork into the slice, lifting it up to the young man’s perfect, pink lips.

Rhys accepted it readily, moaning softly as he chewed the bites of cake. A little bit of glistening strawberry jam lingered on his lips like a ruby, alongside a smattering of vanilla crumbs. A happy smile spread over Rhys’ face, the young man clearly enjoying being fed.

“Jealous, Timmy?” Jack smirked as he glanced down the table at his body double. Timothy was tense in his seat, eyes fixed on Rhys’ moving, glistening lips before he realized Jack was looking at him.

“What—no—!” Tim grunted, moving his eyes down to his plate. Jack laughed, before shoving another heavy forkful into Rhys’ mouth.

He fed two fat cakes slices to the young man before stopping to dab the corner of Rhys’ mouth with a napkin. Whipped cream was smeared a little bit around the young man’s lips, and he was breathing a little more heavily. A little whine crept from Rhys’ mouth as Jack pressed his hand lightly against his slightly bloated stomach, feeling him like he was checking a fruit for ripeness.

“Mmmm, getting there, kiddo, but I think it’s time to give ya a break and let Timmy have a turn, huh? He’s lookin’ pretty….hungry over there.” Jack’s eyes glimmered as he left Rhys with a final pat to his belly, returning to the cake to cut an even bigger slice for his body double.

Tim’s expression was rife with indecision. Jack could tell his counterpart was clearly somewhat aroused by the positively pornographic way Rhys had eaten his first couple slices of cake, even if he’d been initially resistant to the idea of getting fed himself. Not that it really mattered if Timothy really liked it or not, but well, it would be more fun if he did enjoy it the way Rhys was.

“C’mon, Timmy, open up.” Jack waggled a forkful of cake in front of the body double’s mouth, the tantalizing morsel topped with a shiny red strawberry. Tim’s lips pressed together one last time in worry, before he carefully opened them, allowing Jack to slip the treat inside with little fanfare.

Every forkful chipped away more and more of Tim’s resistance, until he was greedily accepting the bits of cake, chewing with relish as he groaned, his stomach filling out more and more. The body double slowly lost count of how much he was eating in a flurry of cake and berries and whipped cream, up until his stomach was bloated and pressing out agains the tight waistband of his jeans. He swallowed thickly around a large piece of cake smeared with whipped cream, leaning back to make room for his stuffed middle.

“Hoo boy, Timmy, three whole slices! You beat Rhys by a long-shot. Too bad it’s not exactly over yet,” Jack cackled, setting aside the empty plate to place both hands on Timothy’s stomach. The younger body double cringed slightly at the pressure as Jack palmed his bloated middle, practically purring in satisfaction.

“That’s a good start, but you can fit a lot more in here, kiddo.” Jack stood, patting Timothy’s cheek as he stalked back over to the middle of the table, loading up another thick slice of cake as he advanced onto Rhys.

Another round later and Jack had loosened both of their belts, allowing their stomachs to spill out, rounded and full and freed from any restraint. Tim had whimpered at the sight when Jack had shoved the hem of his yellow sweater up and over his stomach, either upset or aroused by how full he’d already gotten from the feeding. Jack sure was, in any case, the tent in his pants obvious as he left Tim panting and moaning to draw back over to Rhys, trailing his fingers coyly over the lacquered tabletop. They’d only eaten a little over two-thirds of the cake so far, but Jack’s boner was starting to slid against the zipper of his pants, and he wanted to get it taken care of before he stuffed these two pretty boys any further.

Rhys tilted his head back, licking his lips in anticipation. Cream and crumbs still decorated the skin around his mouth and down his chin, some bits of cake and frosting even resting on the folds of his dress shirt.

“Timmy packed away a lot more than you, sweetheart. So I’m gonna fill you up a little more so you can catch up, ‘kay?” Jack purred as he pulled down his pants and boxers, taking his already half hard cock in hand. His fingers grasped into Rhys’ hair, pulling the young man down and forward until Rhys was practically resting against the table and level with Jack’s cock. The CEO had to push his hip into the side of the table to get the proper angle, but he managed to shove Rhys’ sticky, warm mouth around his dick.

“Mmmm, that’s the stuff, pumpkin,” Jack groaned as he sunk all the way inside of Rhys, beginning to rut his cock in and out of the man’s willing, sloppy mouth. Rhys’ eyelids fluttered closed, letting Jack use him.

The CEO knew that Tim was watching. He turned to look down the table and sure enough, Tim was craning his neck up, trying to get a look. This time, he didn’t even try to glance away when Jack met his eyes with a knowing smirk.

“Heh—don’t you worry, kiddo, I ain’t gonna leave you hanging…” Jack purred, not missing the way Tim licked his own lips. “I’m sure I’ll be nice n’ hard again by the time you two finish the rest of that cake.”

Rhys was an attractive omega.

It was only fitting, after all. Jack was the most handsome alpha in all of Helios, so incredibly attractive that there was no excuse to not brand it into his very name. So why shouldn’t he have the sexiest mate out of all the omegas in the galaxy? It would be absolutely criminal for either of them to be stuck with someone of lesser appeal.

Rhys was vibrant and vivacious, fertility swollen in his hips and heavy in his thighs, his sexual abundance evident in every move he made, every little sway and sly look he glanced over his shoulder. Any alpha would be stupid not to look twice at the omega as he walked by, and anyone who didn’t start salivating at the sight needed to get their junk checked.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother the hell out of him whenever he saw other alphas pay an inordinate amount of attention to Rhys—especially when sometimes Rhys seemed to encourage it.

It made something hot and annoying prickle on his neck, as if he was trapped in some wretched Pandoran swamp with gnats eating him alive. He hated seeing looks on Rhys’ face that should be reserved only for him being whored out to alphas who did such mundane things as open doors for him or compliment his outfit or blather on about how poised and intelligent he had been at the last press conference. It made Jack’s blood boil—he and Rhys were long past the placid platitudes and rote chivalry of their initial courtship, they had two pups for crying out loud—but Rhys was rewarding these pricks with smiles and thank yous and pleased chuckles.

It was enough to drive an alpha crazy.

The final straw came when one of these dense bastards actually had the balls to try and touch Rhys. It happened in the aftermath of a board meeting, when the recently-promoted head of Human Resources—who Jack had already been keeping an eye on to see if he had the guts for the position—reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Rhys’ ear without any prompting. That had Jack’s fury boiling, and he’d ripped his pistol out of his holster and jammed it up against the asshole’s forehead, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring fiercely as he sensed the other alpha’s fear.

Jack had screeched and threatened until the entire meeting room had been deserted, the HR alpha sporting a pistol-shaped bruise against his temple as he stumbled after the rest of the department heads. Once they were alone, Jack had rounded on Rhys, lifting the young omega off of his feet before slamming him roughly back against the reflective steel of the conference table.

“Ow—Jack!” Rhys cried, brows furrowing in pain and annoyance as he glared from under scrunched eyelids up at his mate. His blood froze, skin going pale except for the blotches of red on his cheeks at the sight above him. Jack looked viciously down at his mate, teeth bared and glistening as his eyes narrowed. A tense growl escaped his clenched fangs as he gripped Rhys’ wrists, holding the omega firmly against the table.

“You think you’re being cute, sweetheart?” Jack murmured, voice dripping hot with danger as he arched over his mate, thigh pressing up where Rhys’ legs were hanging off the edge of the table.

“Mmm…I mean…I am cute…aren’t I?” Rhys managed to playfully bat his eyes, only to stop and gasp when Jack’s mouth fell to his neck, sharply biting him.

“And that’s the problem…” Jack growled against Rhys’ throat, licking the taste of metal off of his fangs, “you’re too cute…everyone wants a piece of you lately…”

“I…is that what this is about?” Rhys croaked out as Jack licked over the tender bite mark forming on his neck. His fingers twitched, fisting uselessly under the weight of Jack’s palms on his wrists. Despite the discomfort in his voice, his knees rose, thighs pressing tightly around Jack as the alpha moved even closer. Jack laid another harsh bite against Rhys’ skin, just below the previous one, drawing beads of blood that broke and dripped underneath the press of Jack’s tongue.

“Frikkin’….put two pups in you, bought you clothes and jewelry and even a new arm several times and this is the thanks I get…” Jack muttered, smearing the drops of blood over Rhys’ pretty, pale neck, marking him with the tacky red. He lifted his mouth from Rhys’ throat to glare down at him, licking his lips free of any remaining spots of blood.

“Ungrateful…I’ll show you…”

“Oh?” Rhys’ voice lowered in a purr, a sly smile spreading over his lips. “How are you going to show me, big boy?”

“Ohhhh, you just wait, you just wait and see and I’ll—wait, what?” Jack paused, his brow furrowing as he looked bemused down at Rhys. The omega was squirming less like he was afraid of being reprimanded, and more like he was twitching on the edge of anticipation.

“You….you didn’t…”

Rhys’ smile quirked playfully at the corners.

“You little brat,” Jack snapped, even as a grin spread over his own features, amusement finally sparkling in his eyes from behind the heavy set of jealousy, “if you need to be fucked within an inch of your life, you can always just ask.”

“True, but where’s the fun in that?” Rhys purred as he shifted his hips up, thighs wrapping firmly around Jack’s waist, “there’s nothing hotter than an alpha being driven to….possess their omega…”

“Possess….huh?” Jack snickered, one hand lifting from Rhys’ wrists to grope firmly at the omega’s plump hip. Rhys wriggled, digging his teeth into his lower lip as he used his free hand to twist into Jack’s hair, earning a vibrating growl from the alpha.

“Yes…please….show me how much you want me…” Rhys arched his spine up off the table, belly and groin brushing up against Jack’s body for a brief moment before he found himself being flipped onto his front. A yelp sprung from his throat, hair falling from his perfect slicked back style as he turned to glare over his shoulder at the glimmering grin of his alpha.

“Hmm,” Jack rubbed his chin, crotch pushing up against Rhys’ clothed ass. The omega groaned at the hardness pressing impudently between his cheeks, making Jack laugh.

“Oh we’ll get to that, kitten, don’t worry…” Jack arched over Rhys, palm firmly keeping Rhys’ wrists pinned against his lower back, “…but I think daddy’s going to have to punish you for pushing his buttons like that.”

The scared, exhilarated look that Rhys shot back at him more than made up for all the trouble he’d put Jack through—but there was no reason he had to let Rhys know that until he was all done with him.

1k/$10 commission for @death-stranded ! They wanted something with the fancy omega AU and marking/possessive behavior and hey, I can’t say no to that!

Buy me a coffee | Become a Patron | Ask about commissions

Rhys had been kind of unsure about going out tonight.

Sure, Vaughn had made the point that it had been almost a month since they’d both had the same night off, without the other having to turn in early for a morning shift, but that fact itself introduced the main problem—Rhys was terribly unused to the club scene.

His flashing smile and attractive appearance had managed to get both him and Vaughn into many clubs in the past, but the internship at Hyperion was eating up most of his time nowadays. Rhys didn’t even remember the last time he’d set foot inside one of those flashy, loud establishments full of alcohol and grinding bodies.

But the idea had remained enticing, especially when Vaughn offered to pay for his cover charge and the first round of drinks.

Vaughn had joked that if he got laid as a result, he would owe him, which Rhys had brushed off with a snort. Rhys hadn’t been laid since long before he’d even applied to Hyperion, which was definitely due to a lack of options that met his very high standards rather than anything else.

Not that that stopped him from throwing on his favorite baby blue crop top and tight leather shorts combo and popping his lips with his favorite strawberry lipgloss.

Vaughn had stuck to his promise and bought the first round of drinks, Rhys’ tall, bright blue blended cocktail contrasting sharply with Vaughn’s stout glass of bourbon as the two of them relaxed against the bar and observed the dancing throngs of crowds, bodies shimmering and twirling underneath the kaleidoscope of lights. Rhys was already feeling the tingling of alcohol crawl its way down into his stomach, leaving him feeling warm and loose and ready to mingle. So he parted from Vaughn, who raised his glass in encouragement as Rhys started to dance his way through the mass of people, keeping a look out for anyone that piqued his interest.

There were plenty of hot people here—flexible girls clad in leather and bright neon vinyl, muscular men with sweat-soaked shirts plastered right up against their quivering pecs, and everyone in between—but none so far that really stood out to Rhys. He bumped through the crowd, knocking his hips against people and occasionally sliding his ass down someone’s front, but he usually slid away when they tried to grab him and hold him in place.

His head was swimming with alcohol by the time he’d made it through the crowd to the other side of the bar, his crop top and shorts practically hanging off his form, clothing pulled at and tugged down by various groping hands. He was feeling hot and needy, but despite how attractive everyone in the crowd had been, no one had really piqued his interest just yet—until his eyes fell upon someone who seemed to glow like a streetlamp in the darkness.

This guy was way off from Rhys’ usual type. He usually enjoyed men in positions of authority, self confident and cooly handsome. Well-dressed and sharp—rugged nature controlled just enough to let a tantalizing edge leak through. But this guy looked a lot rougher, shrouded in leather and chains and ratty patches. Spiked blond hair sprouted from his scalp and chin, unruly and messy as if he’d merely raked a handful of hair gel through it moments before stepping out the door for the night. Hiding little behind the creased scowl as he glanced around the club. Rhys was just about to glance the other way when suddenly the man looked in his direction, their gazes meeting through the gaps in the throngs of dancers.

Rhys giggled into his drink, drunkenly fluttering his eyelid at the man. He snorted right into his glass as he watched a surprised look flash over the other man’s face, his eyebrows raising up into his messy hairline. He felt warm and happy, something tickling in his chest as he looked at the man. Rhys’ vision almost seemed to blur, making the edges of the guy’s silhouette a little fuzzy, but he just blamed that on the alcohol. Vaughn was right, he was bit of a lightweight. Especially when the music was pounding and the lights were flashing—it made everything seem dreamlike and dizzy.

Rhys found himself sauntering easily through the crowd, making his intentions more than clear as he approached the blond man, rocking his hips from side to side. He could feel one strap of his crop top roll off his shoulder, exposing more of his tattooed pec in a way he knew was tantalizing. He saw the blond man lick his lips, showing off the sparkle of a tongue stud. Oh yeah. Rhys had him.

Despite that, he didn’t immediately go up and grind against the man—in fact, he only brushed up against him as he walked by, fingers trailing over the frayed leather of the man’s vest as he turned to look over his shoulder. Satisfaction bloomed up inside of him as the man’s eyes met his, that sparkling green surreal and bright in the strobing lights of the club. For a moment, Rhys felt like stopping in place, getting lost in those fathomless eyes, but—no, there was still plenty of room to tease.

As Rhys again returned to the outskirts of the crowd, he started planning his next move. He eyed the bar, wondering if the man would offer to buy him a drink if he planted himself there—not that Rhys needed another drink, but hey he wasn’t going to turn down something free—

Any further thought was cut off as a pair of rough hands grabbed him from behind, quickly dragging his drunken form back towards the protruding wall near the bathroom. Rhys grunted as he was pulled into the clandestine area, a protest dying on his lips as he looked up to see the blond man he’d been teasing. His drink was plucked easily from his fingers and tossed aside. Rhys’ gasp was cut off as their lips were mashed together, any sounds drowned out as he was roughly kissed and pressed back into the wall.

Gloved hands grasped at his wrists, holding his hands down on either side of his head as they made out, bodies starting to arch and press together. Rhys groaned, hips rutting forward against the tent in the man’s leather pants, contrasting fabrics rubbing together as they started to grind their crotches together.

The other man’s sweaty shirt was starting to ruck up, allowing their stomachs to rub up against one another. Rhys shivered at the feeling of the prickly hair leading down from the man’s belly button scratching up against his sensitive, soft stomach. The man’s tongue probed further into his mouth, his tongue stud remarkably cold against Rhys’ warm, slick flesh.

He was breathless when the kiss finally broke, panting breaths heaving from his throat as he looked up at the blond man, met with eyes that glowed almost supernaturally green, like the vibrantly lit jewelry and accessories waving around in the crowded club. Rhys suddenly felt even dizzier than before, numbness creeping over his limbs as he fell deeply into those vibrant pools of green, utterly entranced. His tongue suddenly felt unnaturally cold in his mouth, knees starting to weaken as he slumped heavily back against the wall. Out of his periphery, he could see lips glimmering with sharp teeth as another kiss sucked against his mouth.

“Rhys!” Came a cry over the pounding of the music and shout-singing of the club-goers, shocking Rhys into messily yanking away from the blond man’s lips to look around. His vision was swimming with the alcohol and headiness of the kiss, movements sluggish from the creeping numbness that had tried to drag him down.

“V…Vaughn…?” He slurred, warmth slowly returning to his tongue as he tried to make it work in his mouth. In a moment his best friend was rushing over, hands grasping at Rhys’ shoulders as he looked him over.

“I’ve been looking all over for you—jeez, Rhys, you nearly gave me a heart attack, what are you doing back here?”

Rhys snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Pfft, bro, isn’t it obvious, I was tryna get laid…” Rhys trailed off, glancing behind him, only to see that he was alone. He swiveled his head around, trying to see where the stranger had gotten off to, but he saw neither hide nor hair of the blond man that had been ravishing him only a couple of seconds earlier. Rhys’ brow furrowed in confusion as he licked his lips, still tasting the smoky residue of the other man’s mouth.

“Uh….okay bro….I’m gonna keep a leash on you for the rest of the night, okay?” Vaughn patted Rhys on the shoulder, before guiding him away from the dark corner and back towards the brightly lit bar, the both of them missing the pair of glowing green eyes watching them both from the shadows.

1k/$10 Rhys/August commission for @joycew-blog ! Writing them is a little tough so I implanted it in a kind of urban fantasy setting. I hope it’s all right!

Buy me a coffee | Become a Patron | Ask about commissions

“Mongrel”

Jack’s arms folded tightly over his chest, teeth set firmly in place as Rhys continues gently knocking on the door, purring carefully to the man surely inside. He hated how Rhys’ voice dropped into that soft register, so similar to how he sounded whenever he and Rhys were intimate and alone together. He should only be using that kind of voice when he was with Jack, and not waste it on a monster that probably couldn’t even comprehend something as deep as their love and loyalty for one another.

Still, he remained quiet, close-lipped on his opinions about the dangerous omega for now, as Rhys was finally able to get a response from the man locked in the room. Jack didn’t fully understand why Rhys even needed to get a response in the first place—sure, it was polite, but they owned the key to the door, and the omega was a guest, however unwanted, in their home. Could they not just walk right in?

$30/3k commission for @herkal for their killer!Jack interacting with my mob AU Rhys and Jack. We kind of created a mixed AU involving these three and they wanted me to write a scene about it 🙂 Featuring omegaverse and preheat and bondage stuff with a trans character.

Jack didn’t like having to do this.

He didn’t particularly like Rhys being around this…this man. Barely a man, in Jack’s opinion. Too far gone in the mind, poorly hardwired to deal with the realities of life and interaction with other people in a way that wasn’t violent. Sure, Jack was no stranger to violence, being a hitman, but his violence had a purpose. It was his duty to shoot and kill in order to keep Rhys safe.

But this man…this man was certainly not helping Rhys be safe. And Jack wished very deeply that his young omega boss would stop entertaining the antics of this bloodthirsty stranger.

Unfortunately, he’s dedicated his loyalty to Rhys, deferring his own decisions to his boss’s judgment, and for now Rhys has decided that he wants to keep his little “project” close to his heart.

So, for now, Jack would have to bite his own tongue and make sure that this strange omega didn’t end up harming his beloved Rhys.

He was glued to the omega’s side more tightly than he even had before whenever the pink-haired man was present, defensive over his Rhys whenever the other man got too close or tried to talk to the boss in that weird, halting way that made Jack’s skin crawl. Jack disliked everything about the other man—from his wan, nigh translucent skin, to the tepid, scratching pink hair that sprouted from his scalp, to the way he smelled, to the way Rhys had given him a nickname instead of coaxing out whatever his real name was, if he even had one.

Any moments alone with Rhys have now become even more precious to him, considering how often the strange omega tried to get between them. At the very least, Rhys had agreed to keep the man locked up in the spare room during the nights, telling Jack that at the very least Rhys was somewhat aware about the potential danger he posed. And it gave them assured moments of privacy together that Jack found himself craving throughout the day.

One night, he was laying on his back with Rhys atop him, the couple laying flush together with Jack’s knot firmly wedged inside of his lover’s body. Rhys seemed more than pleased, squirming slightly with the cock within him and the cum steadily filling up his stomach. The alpha was more than happy to cuddle, grateful for the closeness and quiet, until his lover spoke up.

“Jack…I want you to do something for me,” Rhys asked softly, nuzzling his nose into Jack’s fuzzy chest. The alpha petted down the omega’s slim back, palms sliding over his warm skin in a comforting pattern. He could feel the omega’s purrs through his spine, radiating from his core in comforting vibrations into Jack’s own body. Jack tilted his chin downwards as Rhys glanced up, raising his eyebrows at the slight worried wrinkle to Rhys’ brow.

“Yes? Is something the matter зайчик?” Jack cooed, his other hand petting back Rhys’ tousled hair as he sought to smooth out the hint of worry that had crept into his beloved’s features. It was his job to make sure his young boss was as stress-free and calm as possible, if he could help it.

Rhys bit his lip, worrying it with his perfect teeth as he locked eyes earnestly with Jack.

“I need you to do something with….with you know who.”

Despite his usually stoic exterior, displeasure flickered around Jack’s expression. He frowned, his stomach twisting slightly at the idea of having to spend any more time with the pink-haired man. If Rhys wanted to spent part of his leisure time taking care of the other omega, then that was fine, but Jack wanted to interact with him as little as possible. Hell, he had tried several times to distract Rhys from visiting where the pink haired omega was locked up in the room on the floor above them—their current, cuddling position had been a result of such impulse. He deserved Rhys time far more than this monster did, in any case.

“I…Rhys, me and the killer do not get along particularly well, do you not remember?” Jack said as gently as he could muster, fingertips gently stroking along Rhys’ scalp. He heard the omega fussing softly, shifting against his body.

“I…I know, but…he needs our help, Jack.”

“Rhys…” Jack sighed, “you don’t…you cannot possibly help everyone.”

“Yeah, I know that, but I can help this guy if I want…he needs somebody. You know that,” Rhys eyes were wide and moist as he looks up at his lover. Jack swore inwardly.

Damn that begging look.

——

Corralling the other omega ended up more difficult than Jack had initially anticipated. He had let Rhys go ahead of him, the boss softly knocking at the door and whispering coaxing words to the killer housed inside of the room.

“Dvornya? Are you in there?” Jack’s jaw twitched at the name, the butchering of his mother language spilling from his boss’s lips. In his frustration he’d often yelled or growled in Russian at the murderous omega, and to his displeasure Rhys had picked up on some of his choicer language and warped it into something affectionate towards the monster.

Jack’s arms folded tightly over his chest, teeth set firmly in place as Rhys continues gently knocking on the door, purring carefully to the man surely inside. He hated how Rhys’ voice dropped into that soft register, so similar to how he sounded whenever he and Rhys were intimate and alone together. He should only be using that kind of voice when he was with Jack, and not waste it on a monster that probably couldn’t even comprehend something as deep as their love and loyalty for one another.

Still, he remained quiet, close-lipped on his opinions about the dangerous omega for now, as Rhys was finally able to get a response from the man locked in the room. Jack didn’t fully understand why Rhys even needed to get a response in the first place—sure, it was polite, but they owned the key to the door, and the omega was a guest, however unwanted, in their home. Could they not just walk right in?

Jack’s eyes narrowed as Rhys finally brandished the silvery key that now hung on a chain about his neck, carefully unlocking the door and letting it creak open.

Jack flinched as a wave of thick scent washed over them both, thick with the markers of a desperately needy omega. Usually, such a scent meant Rhys was in dire need of some attention from his alpa, and usually Jack would be excited and immediately jumping to care for his lover, but in this case, the scent just filled him with annoyance and dread.

The pink omega looked bedraggled as he stood nervous in the light now seeping in from the main hallway, washing out his pale skin and the stringy nature of his hair. His pants were practically hanging off of his hips, and one strap of his mesh shirt was drooping over his shoulder, exposing one sunken pec. Jack’s lip curled distastefully, but he’d promised Rhys that he would do his best to take care of this omega’s need and help him get some manner of physical relief, at least until they found someone else who would agree to take care of him in that manner.

“Hey, Dvornya, it’s okay, I’m here to help you, okay? Jack’s gonna help you too. It’s gonna be okay,” Rhys soothed, standing in a relaxed position with his hands up, as if to show he wasn’t a threat. Jack made no such attempt to change his stance, glare hardening as the pink omega approached his mate like a deceptively tame animal. Jack tensed, ready to jump on the beast if he had to, remembering what had happened the very first time Rhys had been alone with this. Jack wouldn’t forget for a long time the moment he had broken into the filthy, abandoned apartment to find the murderous omega atop his scared, bound lover.

And still, still Rhys wanted to help him, had roped Jack into helping him. Literally, he thought with a bitter curl of his lip, as he looked down at the silky length of rope wrapped over his forearm.

Rhys was touching the pink omega now, hands softly caressing his face and brushing the stringy bits of hair out of his eyes. Jealousy prickled inside of Jack as he finally stepped inside of the room, grasping the door and pulling it roughly shut behind them, locking it so that the killer couldn’t try to escape from them if things went sour—though according to Jack, they already were.

“See? Its okay. We’re just here to help you through this until we can find someone else to help you more, okay?” Rhys soothed as he directed the whining pink omega back towards the bed, encouraging him to sit. Jack remained standing, though he set all the supplies he had brought with him on the nightstand—the length of rope, a silky, black blindfold, and a buckled, leathery arm binder. He caught the pink omega stealing nervous, unsure glances at the items and fought back with an intense glare, Rhys noticed, placing his hands on the pink omega’s shoulders and softly rubbing his exposed skin.

“Dvornya, hey, don’t be worried, okay? We’re not going to do anything that you don’t want to do, we just think this is….something that will help us help you with what you’re feeling, okay?” Rhys sounded so motherly, like this, reminding Jack again of how much he wanted to properly bond and mate with Rhys someday, have a couple of pups—hopefully without having to waste time caring for this psychopath.

“So,” Jack spoke up, his voice firm and flat, “how do you want to do this?”

Jack didn’t particular want this pink omega touching Rhys again, but he knew that it would be more difficult to gain the monster’s touch if Rhys was not involved. He watched his omega’s expression as Rhys thought, still absently stroking the pink omega’s shoulders as if he was comforting a child.

“I…I think it would be best if I lied down on the bed and had him on top of me….just sitting, Jack, okay?” Rhys amended, noticing the angry twitch in Jack’s lip. The alpha just barely suppressed a growl, still not liking this idea, but at this point unless he followed through with it, Rhys would end up being even more upset.

“All right. Suppose that will work,” Jack grimaced as he took a seat on the bed next to Rhys, one hand resting firmly on the omega’s back. Rhys twitched, turning his chin slightly to look behind him, glancing back at Jack for a brief moment before he was shifting, maneuvering past the pink omega, leaving a dangerous amount of space between him and Jack before Rhys laid back down against the bed. He stretched his legs out, laying completely flat as he craned his neck up, beckoning softly at the pink omega. The man hesitated, for a moment, glancing from the prone Rhys to the guarded, steely-eyed alpha that was sizing him up, almost daring him to try anything out of place—to give Jack an excuse to toss his mangy hide out once and for all. Jack watched as the pink omega carefully eased himself up, coordinated his gangly, shaking limbs all together, getting on all fours to crawl atop of Rhys. Jack’s lip twitched into an inaudible growl as the strange omega sat down gingerly on Rhys’ resting thighs, long fingers clenching nervously into the bedsheets.

Keeping a careful eye on the two omegas, Jack rose briefly to retrieve the binder, blindfold, and ropes from the nightstand, setting all the items on the bed as he sat on his knees, positioning himself carefully. He could smell the scent coming stronger off of the pink omega’s body, could see the way his spine stood out from the pale, almost translucent skin, the way his bones trembled and shook as if they were trying to poke free from his flesh. He looked like a starved dog, despite the fact that Rhys consistently invited him to dinner and left plenty of food in his room in case he got hungry. Jack didn’t see any sight or smell of food spoiling in the room, so the man must be eating, but then why was he so ghastly and thin?

“Jack?” Came Rhys’ voice from below the pink omega, calling the alpha’s attention. Jack raised a brow, peering around the killer’s body to glance at his mate, who was looking back at him with a quizzical expression.

“What?” His reply was perhaps a little heart. Rhys’ face flinched, clearly noticing, but he didn’t address it.

“Can you um….get things started? He’s, uh….well, he looks really eager…” Rhys trailed off as the pink omega’s hand rested against his stomach, drawing the attention of both Rhys and Jack, who was quick to seize the pink omega’s upper arms and pull the limbs around behind his back.

“Easy….be nice,” Rhys chastised as his hands lifted to pet at the pink omega’s thighs, easing the nervous, aroused trembling running through the man’s wan muscles. Jack’s lip curled in a grumpy frown as he dutifully set about clasping the leathery arm binder around the pink omega’s arms, sheathing them all the way up to mid-tricep. He pulled the straps deftly through the brassy buckles, clipping them snugly around the pink omega’s arms and securing them with a testing tug. He hears Rhys cooing to the man between him and Jack, but the alpha does his best to ignore them, to just focus on the task at hand.

Because that’s what it was. A task, and nothing more.

He forwent the rope, for now, not wanting to spend so much time weaving artistic patterns of rope over the omega’s body—that was something reserved for Rhys, for the young man had a desirable, flawless omega body. It was elegant, unlike the scrawny, half-staved and scarred omega that Rhys wanted Jack to care for with the hands usually reserved only for his mate.

Jack picked up the blindfold, rubbing his thick fingers over the silky fabric, reaching around to drape it about the pink omega’s eyes. He tensed as he feels the man gasp, muscles instinctively reacting to a sudden movement of someone he distrusted, waiting for Rhys to move his hands up to rub the omega’s hips, soothing him so Jack could finish binding the blindfold about his eyes.

The alpha rested his hand on the pink omega’s shoulders, vaguely staring off into space as he steeled himself for what Rhys wanted him to do next. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on Rhys’ scent, to trick himself that he’s doing this for his omega’s sake alone.

Jack’s fingers trailed down the knobby spine poking through the killer’s skin, fingers dancing at the waistband of his pants. His belt was so loose that Jack could pull his pants down his thin hips with little effort, showing off his ghost-pale ass, already glimmering softly with slick between the cheeks. He let his eyes flutter half-close, taking a deep breath, focusing on the distant scent markers of Rhys, who was pulling the pink omega’s pants down from the front and rubbing his fingers against his slit. Jack could hear the soothing coos that Rhys was making, mingling in with the roughening pants from the omega nestled between the two of them. Jack grunted as his hands smoothed down to the killer’s quivering ass, slipping one long, thick finger between his asscheeks to coat it with slick.

The pink omega let out a low warble as Jack continued to press his finger inside, focusing on the sensation of warmth and pressure around him while ignoring exactly who he was pleasuring. He forced reality from his mind, instead pretending that it was Rhys who he was fingering instead of just the man that Rhys had decided he should “help.”

The scent certainly helped—at the end of the day, aroused omegas smelled pleasantly, regardless of whether it was one you were in love with or not. Jack took a deep breath, drawing the mingled smell of Rhys and the pink omega into his lungs, his brain growing slightly dizzy, cock starting to harden in his pants as he added another finger. He spread them out inside of the pink omega, spine prickling as a pleased keen cut into the quiet of the room. He could hear Rhys softly whispering words of encouragement—to either he or the omega, who knew, but it hardly mattered as Jack leaned forward and blindly nuzzled against the killer’s shoulder, his fingers rubbing up against all the sensitive omega glands deep inside.

The pink omega shifted softly against his restraints, arms pulling slightly against the binder as he tossed his head back, stringy locks of hair falling across his forehead. Jack’s other hand reached around to clamp firmly on his hips, fingers nudging where Rhys was also gripping tightly, steadying the man between them as they pleasured him from both sides.

Jack shiverd as he felt a heavy wave of slick wash over his fingers as the pink omega shrieked, body jerking as he came into Rhys’ hand. Jack’s arms wrappred around the pink omega’s waist as he went limp, nearly slumping forward over Rhys’ body as the mob boss sat up, cooing softly as he presses reassuring kisses all over his worn face.

“Good….good boy, good dvornya…don’t worry, we’re going to take care of you…” Rhys purred, pressing a tender kiss to the side of the pink omega’s temple as he looked at Jack over his shoulder.

“Aren’t we?”

Jack’s lip still twitched, but the amiable scent of the two aroused omegas and the asking glimmer in his mate’s eyes soothed his annoyance.

“Of course we will.”

Rhys didn’t exactly remember what had happened to him.

He had sat down in Jack’s chair, feeling flushed with pride and excitement as Jack had offered him the throne of all of Hyperion. Everything that Rhys had been wanting for all this time, since before all this mess with vaults and bandits and con artists had begun, hell long before that. When he and Vaughn had been in college, working towards their degrees with dreams of fame and fortune and glory swirling around in their heads every time Rhys had looked at the posters of Handsome Jack plastered up all over the walls of his dorm.

Of course he had agreed. His entire life had been building up to his moment—it would have been crazy not to trust his hero, the man who he’d shared the intimacy of his own brain with for the past few weeks.

He’d grasped the drive willingly, plugging it into his port with a brilliant, trusting smile up to the amiable AI looking down on him—and promptly blacked out.

That was the last thing he truly remembered—Jack’s flickering, acid blue smile as Rhys pledged his body, his brain, his life completely to Hyperion. The rest was all dark, half-remembered sounds and distant, numbed touches to his body until his eyelids finally fluttered open. He cringed softly at the bright light, hanging like the sun immediately overhead, and at first he wondered if everything had been a dream, and he was back on Pandora being baked into the sand by the cruel sear of the desert heat. He tried to speak but found his voice dry and croaky from disuse, and all he could muster was a hoarse whimper. His head tipped weakly to the side, the sudden smell of freshly washed linen drifting into his nose.

So…probably not Pandora then.

At least that was a relief. Rhys didn’t want to go back there. Not without Jack.

Jack…

His eyes shot open, even with the light above him bright and blazing. He tried to sit up, only for a jolt of pain to shriek through his head, leaving him gasping and flopping back against the warm, plush surface beneath him. His fingers curled spastically, able to determine that he was laying on a soft bed as soon as he managed to gather his thoughts into a semi-coherent cloud. His sight slowly came back, but as it did, he realized that his cybernetic eye had been patched up, as he could see little on the left side of whichever room he was busy held in.

Gradually, he made out the steel walls and cheerful, Hyperion posters lining the room amidst the occasional Anshin-sponsored anatomy charts. He’d come to know the interior of the Helios clinics well ever since he’d gone through the gauntlet of having his cybernetics installed, so even through his dizzy brain he could figure out that’s probably where he’d ended up.

Secure in the knowledge that he was somewhere (relatively) safe, Rhys nearly fell back asleep, lulled by the steady beep of whatever machines he was hooked up to, when he suddenly heard the door swoosh open, followed by the low sound of muttering. With a tired sigh, Rhys lifted his head, figuring he should ask what was going on—

“Well well well, rise and shine, beautiful,” came a voice that sent Rhys’ heart right into his throat so quick he nearly choked. He shot up in his bed, wincing at the pain in his head that sent his vision swimming. He whined softly, shaking flesh hand coming up cup his forehead. He distantly heard a soft, warm chuckle coming from his bedside.

His heart was still hammering as he finally pulled his hand away, looking up through his steadying vision to see the man standing besides him, towering over him like a beautifully, unescapable reality. Any strength that Rhys had managed to muster drained out of him, his head flopping back against his pillow as he gazed upwards.

“J….Jack?” Rhys rasped, feeling tears spring up in his eyes at the sight. It felt unreal, almost, to see Jack corporeal, instead of transparent and tenuous and glitching every couple of seconds.

Handsome Jack. Here. In the flesh.

All because of Rhys, everything he had been through, everything he had sacrifice, everyone that he had used and lied to—all of it had been leading up to this.

And now here he was.

“Feels good to be able to touch you for real, kitten,” Jack murmured softly as as he took Rhys’ hand, and the undeniable, solid grip of Jack’s fingers made the young man sob in earnest. Tears crawled down his face, body shaking as Jack took a seat next to his bed, shaking his head. ,

“Breaking down already, sweetheart? Jeez…and you wanna be my CEO.”

“C…co-CEO,” Rhys whispered, laughing softly through his sobs as Jack’s other hand came up to brush away his tears. A smile lifted Jack’s lips, and god the way the skin crinkled so organically around the corners of his eyes and his mouth made Rhys’ heart clench in the best of ways.

“Heh…damn right. Sorry about making ya pass out back there I uh, I didn’t know that was gonna happen.”

“What…what was it…?”

“Just some failsafe installed by Nakajika or whatever in the AI code it uh. Well, let’s just say you’re lucky your brain didn’t turn to pudding. But hell, if they can get me a brand new body, I figured they could keep your skull from liquefying,” Jack joked, smirking at the way Rhys’ face paled.

“Oh, well….um…I’m still glad…I think,” Rhys smiled as Jack’s fingers combed through his hair. Rhys was suddenly aware of how long it’d been since he’d taken a shower, but Jack didn’t seem to mind his greasy, unwashed locks, just petting him until Rhys slowly fell back asleep.

Never in a million years, not even after all they had been through together, had Rhys thought he would ever be in Handsome Jack’s bed.

The CEO had wanted to wait until Rhys was fully healed, but the young man had insisted, practically jumping Jack as soon as they had crossed the threshold of the older man’s penthouse. Jack had been hesitant at first, but the surging arousal of his newly created body nearly overwhelmed him, and before long he was pinning Rhys down against the sheets like an animal. His teeth hungrily dug into the side of Rhys’ neck as his hips surged forward, balls-deep, practically making the bed rock with how hard he was fucking into the young man.

Rhys was clinging against Jack’s arms like ballast in the face of a storm, moans and gasps tearing from his throat as Jack fucked him, thrusts rapid and deep to make up for the long drought of sexuality he’d been forced to endure isolated inside of Rhys’ brain.

Their sex lacked finesse and elegance, Jack’s mind still struggling to control his body as he rocked fast and sloppy into Rhys. The young man led Jack in their kisses, his hands winding into Jack’s hair as he guided him with his tongue—the choreographed hunger in high contrast to the rough bounce between their hips.

“Jack—Jack—Jack—“ Rhys managed to gasp between kisses, feeling his insides grow sore from how harshly Jack was abusing them. His cock bounced roughly in the air as Jack thrusted hard, making Rhys’ spine arch up off the bed. The older man only grunted and groaned as he pushed in and out of Rhys, holding his hips down against the bed until his own stuttered, biting hard against Rhys’ shoulder as his body came, hard, for the first time.

Rhys remained limp and panting, head lolling against the rumpled pillow as he gazed down his body. He shivered as Jack’s curious fingers skated through Rhys’ release splattered on his own belly. He watches as Jack presses the glistening finger into his mouth, smiling around the slick tip.

“You taste as good as I thought you would, kitten.”

1k commission about Jack getting a new body (and putting it to good use) after the end of ep 4!

“Veniarum”

Jack puffed out his chest, showing off his bronzed skin, painted over with dark purple marks that followed the lines of his musculature. His dark claws returned to Rhys’ shoulders, sliding around to the back of his garment collar, playing with the fabric before his fingers combed up through Rhys’ hair. Jack snickered to himself as he jostled the perfect locks out of their fixed coif, earning himself a light frown.

“Don’t give me that face, babe, you’re gonna be a lot messier than that after I’m through with you.”

Jack’s warm, smoky mouth quickly found Rhys,’ claiming those perfect pink lips with his own thin, dark ones. His tongue quickly probed into the young priest’s mouth, the tip of it licking around and twining with Rhys’ as he pressed their bodies closer together. Rhys moaned against him, his thighs softly parting against his chair as Jack towered over him, the demon’s bulk absolutely overwhelming the poor priest’s slim physique.

The demon’s tail fluttered up Rhys’ legs, settling heavily over his thighs as the tip of the appendage pressed up against the priest’s tightly clothed cock. He gasped, member jumping in his pants at the sudden flick of Jack’s tail. The demon’s eyes glimmered, blue and green glowing dim in the light of the candles, their light now forming a scattered corona about Rhys’ ruffled locks.

Jack’s claws dropped from Rhys’ head back down to his collar, fiddling with the buttons on the young man’s clothes as he pressed his tail more firmly up against Rhys’ crotch. He growled as his long nails interfered with unbuttoning Rhys’ robes, ultimately just ripping the front open with an affronted chuff.

$35 commission for @jennpy featuring her demon!Jack and priest!Rhys getting up to some mischief together, if you know what I mean 😉

Leave me a tip or contact me about commissions if you’d like!

Jack flitted through the halls of the church with ease, moving like a shadow against the walls and cutting through the kaleidoscope cast by the stained glass as he sought out the familiar sanctuary of Rhys’ office. It lay tucked in a hallway branching off of the main chapel, providing quiet and a soothing view of the outside trees brushing up against the windows. The demon coyly spun the silver crucifix hanging on the door, sniffing with interest at the wreath of spiny leaves and twisted stems hanging from the same nail before ducking under it and shifting through the thick wood. He twisted back into shape on the other side of Rhys’ door, fanged grin bright on his face as his eyes fell upon the hunched back of the priest at his desk.

“Rhysieeee!” He called in a singsong voice, loving the way his dark tone boomed around the small room, especially the way it made Rhys’ back twitch. Jack clucked his tongue as the priest tried to ignore him, placing his hands on his hips as he sashayed over to where the young priest was sitting, his dark, scaled tail whipping against the beige carpet as stood, towering shadow casting over Rhys. The young man did nothing, said nothing, the only sound in the room the scratch of his pencil against a paper covered in eraser shavings.

“What cha workin’ on, babe? Sunday’s tomorrow, ain’t it? Working on your homework a little last minute, huh?” Jack snickered, his clawed hand hovering over Rhys’ shoulder as he took a look around the room.

Not much has really changed between the last time Jack paid Rhys a visit and now. The same watercolor picture of a sunrise hung on the wall to the left above a couple of chairs and a large potted plant, with the right consumed primarily by a wide, dark-wood bookcase stuffed with heavy, leather-bound books. The only thing Jack noticed that hadn’t been there before was a spiky, purple crystal set upon the bookcase right next to the little, gaudily painted statue of the Virgin Mary. Both glowed faintly in the light of the dripping, red and yellow wax candles that lined Rhys’ desk, illuminated the office in the dim of the coming dusk. Jack shook his head, resting his hand on Rhys’ shoulder, palm firm and nails rigid.

“Real candles, huh? Aw, you’re the genuine article, aren’t you sweetheart? No LED votives for you.”

“Stop distracting me,” Rhys huffed as he jerked his shoulder away from Jack’s too warm touch. An austere frown fought against Jack’s smoldering grin as the priest glared at the insistent demon.

“C’mon, I’m bored.”

“You’re always bored. Don’t you have a soul to corrupt or something?” Rhys offered, scooting his chair closer to his desk, away from Jack. But the devil pursued him, his tail flickering against the floor as its tip rested up against Rhys’ shoe.

“Yours will do.”

“No,” Rhys growled, but with little space to scoot closer to his desk he merely wiggled in place in his old chair, the creaking of the wood the only sound in the office aside from the hollow whistle of Jack’s breathing.

“Pumpkin,” Jack murmured, his mouth hovering just above Rhys’ ear. His clawed hands massaged over Rhys’ shoulders, sliding down his wrong only to stop as Rhys grabbed at his wrists, holding them firmly in place. The demon hummed, breath smoky against the priest’s sleek cheekbone as he settled for stroking his long, sharp fingers against Rhys’ clothed chest.

“Rhysie…”

“I’ve already dipped my toe in your well, demon, I’m not going to sink in all the way,” Rhys hissed, his hands squeezing absently on Jack’s wrists, not letting him further but not shoving him away.

“You’ve done a lot more than just dip your toe, sweetheart. If you really think your God is gonna forgive you, at this point…I mean, do you want me to list all the things you’ve done so far that defy that pretty little book of yours?”

“I….forgiveness is not…even the worst sinner can be redeemed, you know…” Rhys whispered, tilted his head back, his hair brushing up against Jack’s bare stomach.

“So? What do you gotta lose by letting me have a little bit of fun? You can just get down on your knees and pray to your God and then all is forgiven, huh?” Jack purred, fingers digging a little more insistently into Rhys’ chest, feeling the warm, meaty feeling of his chest rising and falling faster against his hands. His tail flickered, the tip slithering up under Rhys’ pant-leg, winding firmly around his slim ankle. Jack could feel the young priest shiver in his steadily snaking grasp, slowly losing his conviction as the demon explored his body with all his dark wiles.

“So? Is this a yes, sweetheart? I’ll even call you ‘father’ if you want, you sicko.” Jack’s fangs curled over his lips as he started to stroke up and down Rhys’ front, the priest’s grasp weakening as he allowed the demon to fondle him. A little, strained groan spilling from the priest’s lips was all that Jack needed to proceed.

Lifting his hands from Rhys’ enticing body for just a moment, he grasped against the wooden chair Rhys was sitting in and bodily lifted it, pulling it out from where Rhys had scooted it in tight against the desk. He jerked the chair around until the young priest was properly facing him, the sight of the demon’s full form wiping away all existing doubt lingering in the man’s expression.

“You’re obscene…” Rhys groaned, even as his eyes roamed up and down Jack’s nude, inhuman body. His hand lifted, lightly grasping the chain that linked the demon’s pierced nipples together.

“This….this is new…”

“You like it?”

“I…”

“Yeah you do. Cause you like me.”

Jack puffed out his chest, showing off his bronzed skin, painted over with dark purple marks that followed the lines of his musculature. His dark claws returned to Rhys’ shoulders, sliding around to the back of his garment collar, playing with the fabric before his fingers combed up through Rhys’ hair. Jack snickered to himself as he jostled the perfect locks out of their fixed coif, earning himself a light frown.

“Don’t give me that face, babe, you’re gonna be a lot messier than that after I’m through with you.”

Jack’s warm, smoky mouth quickly found Rhys,’ claiming those perfect pink lips with his own thin, dark ones. His tongue quickly probed into the young priest’s mouth, the tip of it licking around and twining with Rhys’ as he pressed their bodies closer together. Rhys moaned against him, his thighs softly parting against his chair as Jack towered over him, the demon’s bulk absolutely overwhelming the poor priest’s slim physique.

The demon’s tail fluttered up Rhys’ legs, settling heavily over his thighs as the tip of the appendage pressed up against the priest’s tightly clothed cock. He gasped, member jumping in his pants at the sudden flick of Jack’s tail. The demon’s eyes glimmered, blue and green glowing dim in the light of the candles, their light now forming a scattered corona about Rhys’ ruffled locks.

Jack’s claws dropped from Rhys’ head back down to his collar, fiddling with the buttons on the young man’s clothes as he pressed his tail more firmly up against Rhys’ crotch. He growled as his long nails interfered with unbuttoning Rhys’ robes, ultimately just ripping the front open with an affronted chuff.

He licked his fangs as he exposed more and more of the priest’s pale flesh. He only stopped when he noticed a gold chain around Rhys’ neck suspending a bright maroon flower with streaked little leaves against his quivering pec.

Jack sniffed at Rhys’ chest, wrinkling up his nose.

“Amaranth, huh? Aw, you’re cute,” Jack grasped at the vibrant sprig as if it was something foul, then tossed it away.

“What you put on the door was sweet too, cupcake. What was that, blackberry, ivy, maybe coriander?”

“Rowan,” Rhys sighed as Jack returned to licking up his exposed chest, clearing away all scent of the herb, “why, should I use coriander next time?”

“Nah, that’s not gonna fly either,” Jack winked his cat-like eye up at the priest, “keep trying.”

“One of these days…I’ll get it…” Rhys hummed as Jack’s long, forked tongue wound up over his collarbone, lapping against his skin as he grazed the sharps of his fangs against his tender, licked-pink flesh.

“Don’t rush.” Jack licked his chaps, tongue flickering snakelike as his clawed palms now rested on Rhys’ sides. He could feel his ribs underneath his thin skin, the way they expanded and fell underneath his fingers, the motion quickening every time Jack pressed another toothy kiss against Rhys’ neck.

Jack’s tail deftly tickled at the zipper of Rhys’ pants, hooking into the metal tab and quickly pulling it downwards. He smirked at the sight of Rhys’ underwear, so vibrantly blue and yellow in contrast with the deep, uniform black of the rest of his outfit. Jack could sense the priest was getting hard, the arousal dispersed in the air around them and growing thicker by the second. Rhys started to stiffen in earnest, poking out of his undone pants with the coaxing of Jack’s tail.

The demon warbled happily, the sound brewing guttural in the back of his throat as his tail slipped into Rhys’ briefs, drawing out his cock. The priest inhaled sharply, fingers digging into the arms of his chair as Jack tempted Rhys out of his vestments.

Rhys’ robe hung undone on either side of him, inky black framing the pale, nigh-virginal skin of the young man’s body. Jack smirked at the sight, loving the way that Rhys’ body pinked in some places, around his nipples and belly and near the very tip of his glistening cock. Jack’s mouth watered, his tail peeling Rhys’ pants further down his hips until they pooled around his ankles, leaving those delicious, unfairly hidden legs fully exposed to Jack’s greedy glare.

“Mmm, look at you. You want me to get my mouth on you, father? I promise, I won’t bite.” Jack sunk down to his knees, still nearly level with Rhys with his sheer height and bulk. His claws stroked over Rhys’ hips, the slight roundness usually hidden under his shapeless robes now on full display. He gave one a pinch, earning a gasp and a jolt from Rhys.

Smoke, misty in its body like a snuffed candle, drifted from between Jack’s fangs and curled around Rhys’ cock. The priest whined, his fingers twitching as Jack breathed hot against his cock, his forked tongue unfurling and curling around the base of Rhys’ member. Obscene drool dripped from the demon’s mouth as he brought Rhys’ cock into his mouth, pushing it easily towards the back of his neck as he sucked sloppily around the negotiable length.

It was a familiar weight against his tongue, the slight salt of the tip rubbing against the back of his throat as his prehensile tongue jerked against the shaft buried in his mouth. It was not the first time he’d been to Rhys’ office, not the first time he’d managed to coerce the young priest into these compromising positions, feeding on the repressed lust now breaking from the young man’s cracked severity.

Jack could feel the simmering warmth start to heat in his crotch, his groin plates steadily beginning to part as his cock thrusted out into the open air. He hissed at the sudden cool feeling against his cock, his other hand reaching down to firmly grab it, the ridges and bumps lining his dick pressing into his calloused palm as he gave it a quick stroke. Pre-cum already bubbled at the top, drizzling down the terrain of his cock as his mouth bobs and sucks around Rhys’ own member.

One of Rhys’ hands migrated to his own robes, clenching the fabric above his heart in a viselike grip as he stared down at Jack with misty eyes. Moan after moan rose unbidden to his lips, spilling like beautiful chords over the demon’s crown. Jack chuckled around Rhys’ cock, the vibrations shuddering into the priest’s groan. Rhys bit his lip at the sensation, leaving it red and marked as Jack pulled off of his cock.

“You taste just as good as last time,” Jack murmured, tail stroking down Rhys’ thighs. The priest whined, hips bucking uselessly up at the air at the loss of warmth and suction around his mouth, only for the demon’s claws and tail to press him back down. Jack’s palms kneaded into Rhys’ hips as his tail finished stripping the priest’s underwear completely off, pulling them and his bunched dress pants off and flicking them onto the floor.

Jack twitched as he felt Rhys’ fingers touch his cheek. The demon looked up, eyes gleaming as Rhys looks down back at him. Annoyance and eagerness flicker in his expression, making the demon grin.

“Kitty wants something?”

Fingers at his thorny chin suddenly jerked his head forward, yanking him in close as the priest breathed hotly against Jack’s lips.

“You will call me father, demon.”

Jack bristled at the challenge, at the daring grin on Rhys’ lips and the genuine sparkle of lust in the priest’s usually flat and chaste eyes. Emboldened, his skin prickly with infernal fire, Jack grabbed him roughly by the hips and lifted Rhys into the air, the priest letting out a surprised cry as he fell forward into the demon’s muscular bulk. Those slim hands against his chest made Jack’s black heart thump with lust, and before Rhys could say anything to protest Jack was hefting him up and lunging towards the wall to slam Rhys up against it and reclaim the priest’s whining lips.

Jack ate up any praying breaths Rhys might have left, forcibly wrapping the priest’s long legs around his waist as he rutted their hips together. He pulled back after a long moment of kissing the life out of Rhys, saliva tinged with a flicker of blood dripping between them as he looked Rhys in his dazed, lust-blown eyes.

He had Rhys pinned right up against the wall next to the bookcase, heavy with massive tomes, many of which he’s never seen the young man break open.

“This…this right here…this is real cute,” Jack flicked the sharp, purple crystal he’d eyed earlier on the bookcase, “what’s the deal? Dabbling in some New Age-y crud?”

“N…No….” Rhys hissed, rutting his hips down against Jack’s thick cock grinding along his backside. The young priest whimpered at the sheer size of the dick rubbing up against him, so large that it spreads his asscheeks apart when the demon forcibly grinds him down upon it.

“Mmm, don’t tell lies, father. That’s in your pretty book, right?”

“I’m not…I just think it looks nice…”

“It’s amethyst, isn’t it?” Jack shook his head slightly, pressing their foreheads together. “You know…if the ivy didn’t work, and the amaranth didn’t work—“

“I-It just looks nice!” Rhys defended, his voice rising into a squeak as the ridges on Jack’s cock rubbed up against his entrance, the muscles in his body tightening in anticipation. The demon chuckled, claws tightening around Rhys’ hips, lifting him higher until the slick, tapered head of his cock catches on the edges of the priests’s hole. Rhys shivered from head to toe, head tipping back against the wall as Jack started to push inside of him. He clenched tightly around the head of Jack’s cock as it wedged within him, the tapered length gradually spreading him out wider as Jack sunk into him.

Rhys moaned, loud and echoing throughout his office as the demon pressed further inside of him, cock bumping and rolling further and further within his body. Jack preened, grin practically cutting a wide chaff from pointed ear to ear as he felt Rhys rock against the bumpy ridges of his cock. Jack could see the way his deepening cock bulged out into the priest’s slim, pale stomach, the head so far inside that it was pressing up from his very core. Rhys panted, less room for breath than he’d had a moment before as he shook his ass further down on Jack’s cock until the demon was fully seated within him, sleek crotch plates pressed up against his plush ass.

Jack wasted no time, beginning to pump his hips as soon as he’s completely inside of Rhys, quickly winding up to fuck the priest hard against the wall. Rhys’ ass thumped and tapped in time with Jack’s thrusts, the warm flesh of his ass and hips bulging around Jack’s tightly gripping fingers as the demon railed harsh into him.

Rhys cringed, his eyebrows knitting tightly together as Jack plunged deeper inside of him, cock rocking and pulsing within the priest as he fucked him up against the wall. The bookcase shook besides them, wood vibrating against the wall, several books sliding down from their place and landed with a thump wide open onto the carpet. The priest clenched his thighs tighter around the demon’s thorny waist, holding on of rear life as he was pounded without mercy. His body shook, hands sliding up through Jack’s ashen locks until he found the thick base of his horns, the bony nubs digging into the soft palms of his hands.

Jack purred suddenly, tongue warbling against the roof of his mouth as Rhys rubbed his horns, stroking his hands up and down the protrusions as Jack nuzzled up into the touch with an excited tap of his pawed foot.

“Nnngh, distracting me, f-father…” Jack tossed his head into Rhys’ hands, muzzled nuzzling forward into the side of Rhys’ neck, his slick fangs brushing up against his fluttering throat. A little twitching smile played on Rhys’ lips, his grip firming on Jack’s horns as the demon licked and nipped against his neck.

“Y….you’re cute sometimes…you know?” The priest murmured. “Like a kitten…”

“No!” Jack growled, biting down on Rhys’ skin and licking the little droplets of blood that bubbled up. The young man gasped, body rippling against Jack’s bulk as he lapped up against him like an irked puppy.

“Heh…big bad demon has a c-cute side, huh?” Rhys stammered until Jack slammed him back against the wall, hips picking up their pace as Jack tried to fuck the breath out of the priest. Rhys cried, voice hoarse as Jack’s thick cock split him open, nearly rubbing his insides raw as it fucked him deeper and harder and quicker.

“Don’t,” Jack growled, voice husky, “call me cute.”

He worked his hips roughly against Rhys, fucking his cock harder and harder into the priest’s nubile body, any further comments on his alleged “cuteness” lost in the swarm of moans and whimpers as his form rocked in pleasure.

Rhys came quickly. Not surprising, considering the young priest’s tightly wound chastity. Jack’s back arches as Rhys’ hips jerked upwards, painting his own belly and chest with cum as he shuddered and twitched around the exotic cock still buried to the hilt inside of him.

Rhys hung like a limp doll as Jack fucked into him harder, chasing the burning line of his release as he shuts his eyes, arousal vibrating in his fangs as he lurches forward and burying his teeth deep, deep within the juncture of Rhys’ throat and shoulder. He felt warm, sweet blood splash up against his gums as he locked his jaw against the priest, feeling arousal boil in his crotch and fountain up his cock to burst his thick, burning seed deep within Rhys. The priest moaned at the sudden influx of release, cum steadily filling up his tight insides as Jack’s ridged cock swelled up, locking himself deep inside of Rhys.

“Easy, easy, father,” Jack whispered, voice somewhat softened from before as he finally pulled his fangs out of Rhys, licking the metallic smear off his teeth as he grasped the priest tightly. He looked down at the bloody, messy bite mark pierced into Rhys’ flesh, watching as bruised blue and black swirls spread like ink across the flushed pink skin of the priest’s chest and shoulder.

Thankfully, Rhys seemed too fucked-out to realize what Jack had done to him. The demon affectionately kissed the side of the priest’s head, lifting him up from against the wall to go squeeze himself into Rhys’ frail desk chair. He stroked his clawed hands down Rhys’ spine, watching as the swirling black and blue designs continued to crawl over the flesh of the priest’s back.

Jack chuckled to the air.

He couldn’t wait to see what petty little herbs Rhys would try to use to ward him off now.

“Resplendent” (3/3)

Rhys’ struggles against the tentacle monster had grown weaker and weaker as the appendages had wound thicker and tighter over his form, to the point where he couldn’t move anything below the shoulders unless the monster manipulated him. He whined, tossing his head to the side, searching for anything that could potentially help him, but he froze the instant he saw a little yellow box with a flashing red light suspended in the corner of the café ceiling.

There were cameras all over Helios, he knew that. It was a fact of life living on the space station, and he’d never thought too long and hard about them until this point.

Because all of the cameras in the cafe were now pointed directly at him. He tossed his head about, eyes swinging wildly to confirm this fact. Red, flashing lights surrounded him on all sides, burning into his vision.

A small whine of fear clawed from his throat at the thought that somebody was watching him like this. Getting ravaged on the floor of a deserted cafe, his pants stripped off of his legs, showing off his colorful socks and leather sock garters. His ankles were held up in the air by the twisting appendages, legs spread apart as the tentacles lapped up between his thighs, snaking over his half-hard cock and tense ass.

Anonymous commission for the third installment of my tentacle monster smut series! This time, with Rhackothy and an extra dose of voyeurism. Previous installments can be found here and here.

Enjoy! And leave me a tip if you’d like!

Jack and Tim had a problem.

It had started out lamely enough, with one of Jack’s people watching sessions. From time to time, when they either had a break in their busy schedules or the rest of the body doubles were around to pick up some of the slack, Jack would cycle through the hundreds of Helios cameras on his tablet and provide some colorful commentary. Tim usually tuned him out during these moments, scrounging his own ECHO for something to read or authorize in order to squander the time left between one of their next meetings.

“Well hey there.” Jack’s interested purr had broken through the bored fugue of weapon’s tests and trade agreements that clouded Timothy’s mind, the body double blinking in sudden clarity as he peered over Jack’s shoulder.

“Mmm?” Tim questioned as he rested his chin against the older man, peering against the glowing screen as Jack zoomed in

“Look. At those. Legs.” Jack murmured, grinning when the man on the screen suddenly turned around. “Damn, he’s pretty too.”

Tim felt his heart leap unexpectedly at the sight, of the young man with the mismatched eyes and sculpted, swept back hair that curled in little wisps at the nape of his neck. His face, mature and handsome in the chin and jawline yet boyish in the eyes and smile, moved easily through the conversation he was leading with two fellow employees in a way that made Timothy’s heart sing even through the distance of the security camera.

Jack wiggled excitedly in his chair as he took his eyes off of the screen for a moment, looking to Tim with a devilish gleam.

“We gotta make him ours.”

And that’s where their problem had begun.

They’d quickly started running out of excuses to summon the middle manager—Rhys—to their office. Tim was about ready to propose that Jack just hire the young man on as his secretary or personal assistant or cock warmer or something, but for whatever reason Jack was stubbornly against it, maybe because he was dead-set on seducing Rhys on charm and wit alone. Tim wondered if maybe that was why they weren’t making much progress in snaring Rhys, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

One night, where the both of them had needed a thorough unwinding from Assmaster, they stayed awake together with the warm, pulsing tentacles cuddled around them, swiping through the various screenshots of Rhys they’d taken over the past few weeks, before checking the profile they’d found of the kid on ECHOMeet.

“He’s listed as single….so it’s not cause he’s committed to someone else…” Jack hummed as he scrolled through Rhys’ profile, squinting at the brief paragraphs.

“Interests…ice cream, fashion, coding, Handso—oh for crying out loud, he has you listed as an interest and he’s still not biting?” Tim huffed, prodding at the offending text. “What the hell are you doing wrong?”

“Doing wrong? Uh, babe, I ain’t doing anything wrong.” Jack growled, furiously scrolling up and pressing his finger over the picture the kid had attached to his profile. It was unfairly attractive despite how obviously casual it was. The background looked like one of Helios’ fancy clubs—Humerus, Himeros, something like that—and the kid was dressed in what looked like a white crop trop streaked in pixelated gold and black, showing off something intricate blue tattoos that almost seemed to glow in the flashing lights of the club behind him. He was bent over a massive salt-rimmed fishbowl of a drink, filled with aqua liquor and ice and crowned with a beer bottle penetrated into its depths.

“Clearly he’s no stranger to having a good time…” Jack grumbled, swiping to zoom in closer on the kid’s face. He didn’t seem like he was some kind of weird prude who would rebuke their obvious advances. Jack knew enough about his own flirtatious tactics—thanks to Timmy’s perspective—to realize he wasn’t exactly subtle. He’s pretty sure he’s said the word “wiener” to the kid about five times already in their scant interaction. So what was the deal?

“Well…something might be wrong if he’s not biting…” Tim sighed, resting his head against Jack’s shoulder.

“Hm…I dunno. Maybe the kid is just shy? And we just gotta figure out something to loosen him up…” Jack shivered as one of the tentacles inside of him shifted, oozy muscles bulging out his hole.

“Hnnn…easy, girl, easy….” Jack stuttered as he patted the main, rumbling mass of Assmaster’s body curled up around them. The bed bowed underneath their combine weight, creaking every time either Jack or Tim or their alien cohort moved.

“Still a little frisky tonight, huh?” Tim asked, snuggling deeper into the grasp of the curious tentacles. “Hmm….she might need another round.”

“Then you two can have fun on your own, daddy’s exhausted.” Jack grunted as he shut down the tablet, passing it over Assmaster’s bulk and trying to set it on the nightstand, only for it to miss and go crashing to the floor. Jack swore, only for a helpful tentacle to reach down and pick it back up, sliding the device snugly into the desk drawer.

“Awww, you’re such a sweetheart.” Jack kissed one of the affectionate tentacles before wrapping his arm around Tim’s shoulders, ignoring the body double’s whines about not being tired yet as he tugged the covers up around the both of them.

“We’ll sleep on it, ‘kay pumpkin?” Jack pressed a kiss to Timothy’s forehead as the body double squirmed underneath the blankets. “Sure two handsome noggins like ours can figure out someway to land that little cutie.”

Timothy huffed, resigning himself to resting in his boyfriend’s firm grip as he snuggled against Jack’s shoulder.

“Mmmkay. I just hope you’re right about that.”

Unfortunately, the next morning did not bring a solution to their Rhys conundrum, and instead decided to toss another one onto the pile.

Jack woke up first, as he usually did, so attuned to a corporate routine that he found it hard to sleep in unless he was drugged—something that Tim found occasionally necessary.

Typically, Jack dragged himself from bed, begrudgingly untangling his arms from around Timothy’s sleeping body so he could deflect the accusation that he was a veritable octopus of a sleepy cuddler. He ran a hand through his hair, still limp from the sweat of the previous night’s fun, as he ambled over to the bathroom. He clicked his tongue a few times in the direction of the bed as he turned on the shower, leaving the door open so Assmaster could join him if she wanted. The monster’s body was primarily self cleaning—at least as far as Jack could comprehend—but usually she enjoyed the warm water of the shower and would sometimes give Jack a morning jerk-off to clear his head.

He ducked underneath the stream of warm water, letting it trickle down his body as he cracked his neck. He expected the shambling mass of tentacles to creep into the bathroom and slide into the shower next to him any minute now, but by the time he’d rinsed the shampoo from his hair and slathered his entire form in body wash, there was still no sign of her.

Jack pushed his puzzlement from his mind as he turned off the shower, rubbing the golden towel over his body before knotting it around his hips. He grabbed his comb and fancy hair gel from the mirrored medicine cabinet, setting about styling his messy coif for the day ahead.

Jack shivered as he felt warm hands brush over his hips before settling against his stomach. A familiar chiseled jawline nestled against his shoulder as Tim pressed his lips against the edges of Jack’s lazy smirk.

“Mornin’ Timmy, what’s up?” His double grunted in response, nuzzling his nose against Jack’s cheek.

They got ready in tandem, Jack rubbing scar cream into his face as Timothy showered. The double helped Jack clip on his mask as soon as he got out, before Jack took the comb to Timothy’s hair, making sure it matched his own perfectly.

“You seen Assmaster this morning?” Jack asked as he swiped a wet piece of hair off of Timothy’s forehead, slicking it into the gelled fringe that mirrored his own style.

“Nah, not yet….she’s probably getting something from the kitchen…or napping under the couch…” Timothy hummed lazily, still trying to shake sleep from his eyes. He always did have a harder time waking up than Jack did. The CEO smiled fondly, finishing up styling Timothy’s hair and kissing his forehead.

“Mmm. There’s my handsome boy,” Jack snickered as he thumbed at Timothy’s chin, “and she better stay out of the leftover stroganoff, that’s got my name on it.”

“Well, you better get your hands on it before she snatches it,” Timothy chuckles as Jack brushed by him, patting him on the ass before heading off to the kitchen.

They were somewhat surprised to find that Assmaster was not, in fact, busy devouring the veal stroganoff that Jack had slaved over the night before. In fact, she didn’t make a single appearance for the rest of the morning as the two men prepared for the day ahead of them. Jack had plans to go down to advertising to approve the latest wave of his special edition posters, while Timothy would stay up in the office doing paperwork and other, more mundane tasks.

The body double sipped at his tea, the surface of the liquid clouded slightly with the tablespoon of creamer he’d carefully poured into it.

“You think she’s just hiding, or?”

Jack shrugged as he wiggled on his jacket, adjusting the shoulder pads that properly broadened his frame.

“Ehhh she probably just squeezed herself into a nook or cranny or something or other. I mean, where’s she gonna go? She loves us too much to run off,” Jack dismissed as he swaggered over, pulling Tim in for a kiss that tasted like bergamot and cream. He licked his lips.

“Now get your cute ass to the office, pumpkin,” Jack chuckled as he patted Timothy’s hip, before going to finish off his coffee.

Paperwork and fielding e-mails quickly got pretty boring for Tim, however. The body double soon found himself fiddling with the fake clasp on his chin as he deleted old messages and drafted up new ones for Jack to send out throughout the week ahead. He supposed he should be grateful that he could finally put his writing degree to good use, but most of these messages ended up retreading common territory and became pretty boring pretty quickly. There were only a few ways to gussy up weapons stats and grant approvals and Tim had ran through those dozens of times year ago.

Before he decided to revisit some of his old writing exercises to bide his time until Jack was done down at advertising, he decided to flick through the big holographic display on his desk and see if he could do a little “surveillance” on Rhys. It had been awhile since either of them had properly interacted with the middle manager, and last time had ended rather inauspiciously when Jack had tried to “casually” put his arm around Rhys’ shoulder only to clock the kid right in the temple port.

They still weren’t entirely sure how they’d recover from that…

Nevertheless, Timothy still found himself flipping through the cameras monitoring Rhys’ usual haunts, puzzled to find there was little sign of the young man. He wasn’t at his desk, nor was he at the little break room stuffing his face with his favorite strawberry danishes or loading his coffee up with french vanilla creamer and plenty of sugar. Puzzled, Tim flipped through a couple more of the cameras, their ID numbers already rote knowledge to his fingers as he scanned through Rhys’ favorite ice cream parlor, his best friend’s cubicle down in Accounts and Financing, and the cybernetic enhancements clinic.

However, he didn’t find the familiar leggy brunette at any of those locations, which did little to lift Timothy’s bored and—increasingly annoyed—mood.

“C’mooon, where did you run off to?” Timothy huffed as he continued flipping through random cameras, hoping to catch a glimpse of his and Jack’s newest paramour. He was about ready to give up when, through sheer luck, he switched to a camera inside of one of the Hub’s most trendy cafés with its monitor fixed directly at Rhys’ face as he enjoyed lunch with a woman Tim had seen around him a couple of times.

Timothy tried to ignore the blush that rose in his cheeks and the giddiness that filled his heart at being able to see Rhys, the smile on the young man’s face helping Timothy quickly pull out from the boredom.

The body double smiled, wheeling the chair closer to the desk as he settled in to watch—and pine.

Rhys was busy prodding at the remnants of a chicken cobb salad, grimacing slightly at the fact that had had already scraped up the last of the chicken and cheese and bacon and was now left with only sodden lettuce and tomato smeared on the bottom of his plate. He eyed Yvette’s caprese grilled cheese and fries with a jealous leer, half wondering if she would even let him have a bite if he asked.

Vaughn had pointed out his tummy pooch a couple more times than Rhys was comfortable with lately. And considering how his bro had slimmed down and toned up considerably over the past couple of months, it stung extra hard. So he was trying to at least eat healthier, since a couple of disastrous gym visits had reminded him that he wasn’t the most coordinated when it came to using any of Helios’ fancy exercise equipment.

But eating healthy sucked, even if this particular cafe had found a way to jazz up salads so they weren’t entirely awful.

“You know, I won’t tell Vaughn if you want to order ice cream. But only if you buy me one too.” Yvette smirked as she leaned her chin forward onto her palm. Rhys rolled his eyes even as a grin spread over his features.

“Okay, deal, I swear I haven’t even bought any ice cream lately because he keeps making fun of me.” Rhys wiggled in his seat as he cheerfully ordered two sundaes with extra whipped cream from the waiter.

“I dunno what his problem even is. Normal people eat a pint of Chunky Peanut Butter Fudge Ribbon when they’re upset, not some weird protein shake that tastes like chalk.” Rhys stuck out his tongue as he folded the dessert menu up tucked it back into the condiment holder.

They passed the time with more of the same idle chatter they’d been having, gossiping about work and Vaughn and each other’s love life. Rhys didn’t have much to speak on about that topic, but Yvette was well into telling Rhys how her latest date had gotten when their sundaes—piled high and dripping with fudge and caramel—arrived at the table.

Rhys rubbed his hands together before he picked up his spoon, excited to dig into the mountain of a sundae, when he noticed that Yvette was’t following suite. In fact, she was staring at him—or, slightly past him?—with her eyes reflecting confusion and her lips slightly parted.

“Uhh, Yvette? What’s wrong, something—“

Rhys heart leapt as he felt something firm and long slap over his throat, a scared squeak tearing from his lips as his head was suddenly pulled back against the chair with the strength of the appendage. His eyes widened with fear and his hands clawed up at the thing now winding around his neck. His breathing picked up as panic seized at his chest. His nails dug at the appendage as his eyes strained downwards, trying to get a proper look at the thing now crawling up his jaw, leaving a trail of slick in its wake.

“Y-Yvette, help—“ Rhys choked out to his friend, other hand scratching at the air. Yvette was already up, her own chair crashed against the floor as she watched the unseen horror lapping up from around Rhys’ chair. He could see her ECHO on, bright blue illuminating her moving lips before his attention was snatched by the tip of the choking appendage plunging into his mouth.

Rhys scream was muffled as the tentacle shoved deeper inside of him, the girth of the appendage swelling up and stuffing his mouth, pressing his tongue down as the tip flickered towards the back of his throat.

Even with the immediate threat of the tentacle trying to wiggle its way down his throat, Rhys could feel even more of them crawling around the chair, winding up his legs and wrapping around his arms in an attempt to hold him down in his seat. Rhys jerked, struggling to his feet against the strength of the appendages holding him, desperately trying to pull out of their grip and run like hell away from whatever was trying to capture it and whatever it had in mind for him.

Suddenly a tentacle curled sharply around his ankle, yanking his footing out from under him and causing Rhys to fall forward, arms wheeling outwards as he let out a high-pitched scream.

Rhys expected to crack his head against the hardwood floor, only for more warm, writhing tentacles to break his fall. He gasped as he was grasped around the chest and waist, propping him up against the ground as the appendages writhed all over him like a carpet of snakes. He squirmed uncomfortably, arms and legs thrashing against the tentacles that quickly caught him up in their firm, pulsating grip.

“Somebody help me, please!” Rhys cried out, jerking his head around to try to find somebody, anybody who was still there to help him, but the last remaining stragglers in the cafe were merely staring at him in horror as the tentacles curled around him.

“Jack!”

The CEO cringed at Timothy’s scream pounded into his ears the moment he entered the doors to their office, even louder than the panicked, confused cries that had screeched off the ECHO right in the middle of the printing room. At first Jack had been grateful for the excuse—as much as he loved looking at endless, glossy posters of himself spitting out of the printer, the fresh ink had started to make him feel nauseous and it wasn’t gonna be all that heroic to blow chunks all over the team of graphic designers. But Timothy’s inability to explain exactly what was going on over the ECHO got frustrating really quick, leading Jack to barge on into their office to see exactly what the deal with his body double does.

“What’s up, Timmy? You done hollering my ear off?” He growled, digging his fingertip into his ear for emphasis. Timothy shot him an aggravated look, before frantically waving him over to the blue display that lit up his face in an eerie glow. Jack raised his brows at his double’s antsy state, thumping up the dais and over to the desk, rounding around to where Timothy was standing as he peered at the display.

“Oh holy crap,” Jack’s eyes widened as he zeroed in on the crystal-clear image of Rhys, the months-long object of their affection, laid flat out on the floor with their tentacled pet busy wrapping itself around his helpless form.

“Well….guess we figured out where she went, huh?” Jack laughed nervously, already feeling heat tingle through his body at the sight of tentacles winding up those long, long legs that so often he’d imagined running his palms over. Tim let out a frustrated whine, gesturing at the screen as he glared at Jack.

“W-We have to do something! We’ve been…we’ve…she’s going to…we have to do something!” Tim babbled, his attention split between his genuine worry and interest in the strained gasps coming from the display.

“You know she won’t let go of him until she’s had her fill, Timmy, not unless you want to send in somebody to hurt her,” Jack growled, sitting on the arm of Tim’s chair and squeezing the double’s shoulders. Tim stared incredulously at him, circling a stabbing finger right around Rhys’ digital face.

“Do you not see this? She’s….she’s going to hurt him! She’s going to…she’ll ruin all we’ve been trying to do with him! What do you expect us to do?”

Jack’s eyes glimmered, smirk twitching up at the edges as a long, crying moan crackled through the display’s speakers.

“Watch.”

Rhys’ struggles against the tentacle monster had grown weaker and weaker as the appendages had wound thicker and tighter over his form, to the point where he couldn’t move anything below the shoulders unless the monster manipulated him. He whined, tossing his head to the side, searching for anything that could potentially help him, but he froze the instant he saw a little yellow box with a flashing red light suspended in the corner of the café ceiling.

There were cameras all over Helios, he knew that. It was a fact of life living on the space station, and he’d never thought too long and hard about them until this point.

Because all of the cameras in the cafe were now pointed directly at him. He tossed his head about, eyes swinging wildly to confirm this fact. Red, flashing lights surrounded him on all sides, burning into his vision.

A small whine of fear clawed from his throat at the thought that somebody was watching him like this. Getting ravaged on the floor of a deserted cafe, his pants stripped off of his legs, showing off his colorful socks and leather sock garters. His ankles were held up in the air by the twisting appendages, legs spread apart as the tentacles lapped up between his thighs, snaking over his half-hard cock and tense ass.

“Nnnn….” He groaned, eyelids fluttering as one of the appendages snuck between his asscheeks, its slick tip prodding at his hole. He clenched down, trying in vain to shut out the tentacle as it wiggled its way inside of him. He gasped, body tensing further as the tentacle pushed deeper and deeper inside of him, forcing his clenched muscles to spread out around its girth.

In all honesty, Rhys hadn’t been properly fucked in a long time. He’d gone on a couple of dates lately, but they hadn’t really progressed beyond the requisite dinners and perfunctory “thank you” kisses. It had been a good couple of months since he’d been intimate with anyone at all, and it was closing on a full year since he’d last been fucked in any way memorably.

Well. This was certainly memorably, though he didn’t really know if it was in a good way or not.

The initial terror and shock of being assailed in public by a foreign tentacle beast was slowly starting to pass as the appendages pulsed around him, much less constricting now that Rhys was barely struggling. It was—almost like he was being given a warm, full-body hug. Admittedly by some creature who had jumped him out of nowhere, but still. It could be worse.

Better than a hookup with Vasquez, at any rate.

Rhys’ hips jolted involuntarily as the tentacle curled inside of him, the tip flexing slightly against his sensitive innards. He furrowed his brow as he felt his cock twitch in the air-conditioned air of the café, peering down the length of his body to see the pink head of his cock rise up above his rucked up dress shirt. He frowned slightly around the tentacle in his mouth, slightly perturbed at how quickly he was getting hard but—ah!—well the creature was starting to curl up against his prostate, so it wasn’t really his fault was it?

A moan trickled from his stuffed mouth as more of the tentacle pushed inside of him from both ends, filling his ass and throat like cock, except so much more flexible. Rhys could feel the fluid contractions of tentacles’ muscles as they pumped further inside of him, deeper than any cock could possibly reach. His heart fluttered in his chest at the overwhelming wave of sensations, pleasure cooking deep in his belly as the tentacles tended to him. He distantly recognized the alien bulge and shift in the typical flat of his abdomen, but the pleasing stretch and weight inside of him was enough that it seemed like a non-issue.

He twitched involuntarily as more, smaller tentacles started to swarm underneath his shirt, sliding slick up the trembling muscles in his belly to reach his chest. The breath hitched in his throat as he felt the tips of the tentacles flicker against his pert nipples before loosely winding about and prodding the sensitive nubs. Rhys’ hands clenched into fists within the grasp of the appendages, distantly questioning this creature’s knowledge of human sexual pleasure while he reveled in the odd intimacy he was being treated with.

Tingling arousal spread throughout his body as the tentacles lapped all over him—filling his throat and ass, curling around his sensitive chest, stroking his pale cock—with an eagerness or care that Rhys hadn’t experienced in quite some time. The tentacle in his mouth withdrew slightly every time he choked, which was more than he could say for some of his past lovers. Rhys had been picking oily pubes out of his teeth for a couple of minutes after the last time he’d been made to deep throat Vasq—

Whatever train of thought Rhys had was interrupt as the tentacle around his cock gave him a firm, slick squeeze just as the tentacle inside of him swelled and thrashed right up against his prostate, forcing a muffled shout out of the young man as his cock unexpectedly spasmed and released all over his bulging belly.

Rhys’ entire being felt hot and full and oddly satisfied, post-coital and cuddled in the pulsating mass of tentacles still buried deep inside of him. He tingled in overstimulation as the appendages continued to flex and thrust in and out of him, growing warmer and pulsing quicker until the entire mass constricted around him in a sudden undulating shift.

Rhys groaned as he felt fluid burst from the tentacles inside of him, warm, unctuous fluid spurting down his throat and into his ass, seemingly without end. Rhys squirmed as he felt his stomach start to fill up from the sheer onslaught of cum spilling from the monster. Smaller tentacled fluttered against his belly, petting and stroking it as his bloated flesh pressed uncomfortably against the remaining fastened buttons on his shirt.

He felt the tentacles cushioning him slowly deflated and retreat, slowly leaving him laying flat against the now-warm hardwood of the café floor. Rhys let out a soft whine at the sudden loss of the tentacles’ presence, feeling empty and suddenly hyper-aware of the air conditioning now fluttering over his bare legs and hips.

Rhys was so dazed, so exhausted from the fucking that he barely noticed the sounds of footsteps growing closer until they were practically on top of him, two amorphous shapes silhouetted by the café lighting. He glanced up, eyelids fluttering.

“Wh….who are you…?” Rhys asks. His vision is blurry with tears, ECHOeye feed strained through exhaustion. One of the fuzzy, dark shapes above him shifts, growing closer, more focused, smiling.

“Us? We’re your guardian angels, babe.”

They’d gotten a couple of strange looks as they’d thumped through the Hub back towards Jack’s office with a half-conscious, pant-less Rhys supported between them, but Jack and Tim had far more important things on their minds than the opinions of random middle men and women whose eyes were drawn with alarm to the sight of two Handsome Jacks dragging a cum-slicked half-naked man between them.

Jack was thoroughly pleased, despite the unorthodoxy of the day. Sure, they hadn’t planned for Assmaster to go rouge and find Rhys herself, but he couldn’t argue with results. Jack had staked his entire legacy on the “ends justified the means” idea, so extending it to his romantic life was just natural.

Tim’s expression was a little more unreadable, but Rhys was clearly pleased by how his day had unfolded. Occasionally he would look up to either Jack or Tim with dazed but undeniably starry eyes, a stupidly cute little smile fluttering on his lips as the CEO and his body double helped him walk over to the leather couch flanking one side of his office.

“A-Ah…you two…” Rhys whimpered softly as he was manhandled onto the couch, tensing up as he was made to sit on his bottom. Frowning, he flipped himself over onto his belly, body half-resting in Timothy’s lap as Jack got on his knees on the cushion behind Rhys, broad hands softly massaging the young man’s bare, still-sticky thighs. Jack hummed, sticking the tip of his tongue out from between his lips as his fingers moved up to the kids pink ass, spreading his cheeks outwards to get a look at the young man’s abused hole.

“W-Wait! Haven’t I…it’s…it’s too much…” Rhys whined, turning to look behind him, clearly unsure whether he should chastise Jack or not, but his ass and insides did ache from its treatment from the tentacle creature. Tim lifted his eyes up to Jack, carding soothingly through Rhys’ hair as he gave his boyfriend a stern look.

“Maybe putting your dick inside of him right after Assmaster has had her way with him isn’t the best idea?” He offered, earning himself a snort from Jack.

“Jeez, Timmy, after all the trouble we’ve been through to land him? When he’s literally—literally—in our lap?”

“Well,” Tim hissed, “if you want to keep him around, it might pay off to be nicer to him and not fuck him while he’s already raw.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but offered a relenting pout. Still he rucked his sweater up higher on his hips, jingling with his belt as he withdrew his cock. He reached forward and fingered lightly around Rhys’ hole, earning himself a gasp from Rhys and a stern look from Timothy.

“Relax, kiddos, I ain’t gonna put my dick inside of him, but I don’t wanna chafe that perfect bum with what I do have planned,” Jack winked as he slicked up his cock with some of Assmaster’s residual golden cum, shaking his hand and flicking the remainder onto the steel floor. He carefully braced his hands against Rhys’ hips, nudging his shiny cock between the young man’s tender asscheeks.

“Easy, pumpkin, just gonna jerk myself off between these two pretty cream buns of yours before blue balls makes my frikkin’ dick fall off,” Jack growled as he started to rut his cock up against Rhys’ behind. The young man let out a small groan of protest, but his hips twitched back, encouraging.

Tight gasps and a screwed up expression from Timothy told him that he was tending to himself on the other side of Rhys, and the way the kid started shuddering and shaking despite his own exhaustion told him Timmy was also taking some pity on their ravaged paramour.

Rhys’ spine bent in am attractive curve between Jack’s firm hands and Timothy’s soothing grasp and warm lap. The spent muscles in his back shuddered and flexed as Jack thrust his cock between his tender cheeks.

The CEO was already pretty wound up from the video feed, so it took him only a couple more strokes to be releasing all over Rhys’ ass, painting those pert little orbs as Rhys moaned out at the splash of hot fluid.

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s nice, that’s real nice, babe…” Jack purred, rubbing his fingers firmly into Rhys’ plush ass. His pearly cum looked really good with the molten gold of Assmaster’s still drying against Rhys’ backside. Jack nearly purred at the sight, grabbing his phone and leaning back to get a good snapshot before he slumped forward, pressing a hot kiss against Rhys’ spine. Tim had managed to jerk the both of them off n the time it’d taken for Jack to come down from his own orgasm, leaving all three men in an intimate, shuddering heap of pleasure.

Rhys let out a strangled groan as Jack jostled him onto his side, so he and Tim could spoon him front and back.

“Yeah? You got anything else to say for yourself, kitten?” Jack patted Rhys’ backside as he wiped his cock off into some balled up notepad paper he’d stuffed into his pocket back in Advertising.

“You…you two owe me a sundae…” Rhys whined as he snuggled up against Timothy, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s tight waist as he snuggled him, dozing off. Timothy smiled affectionately down at him, running his fingers through the young man’s hair. Jack smirked, shaking his head as he reached around, wiping the cum from both of their cocks as well. He didn’t need stains sitting all smelly and crusty on his fancy couch.

“Babe, you give me half the show you gave us tonight, and I’ll give you as much ice cream as you can fit.

“Insubordinate”

The young man shirked, and for a moment Jack wondered if he was gonna try to bolt like a frightened skag pup, but before he can even try Jack’s grabbing him by the stupid tie and dragging him back up to his chair. Rhys choked, nearly slipping and falling as he’s dragged along the steel floor. Jack turned on his heels and sat abruptly in his chair, yanking Rhys forward by the tie. The boy’s legs smacked into Jack’s knees, causing him to stumble forward and loose his balance as he landed with a pained oomph right over Jack’s lap.

The CEO held Rhys in place as the young man struggled, trying to get off of Jack’s legs until he planted a hand over the back of Rhys’ neck, fingers biting into the loose skin at the nape. Rhys’ entire body tensed, his struggling stuttering to a stop. Jack could feel the heat of Rhys’ pulse throbbing in his skin, could feel the way his throat tightened as he swallowed roughly.

“You know what’s gonna happen to you, don’t you?”

Rhack commission for @mandaocity! They wanted a spanking fic with Jack punishing Rhys after Rhys puts his life into danger. Warning that this fic definitely edges more on the “punishment” side of spanking rather than strictly sexy side, so….yeah

Jack paced about the hangar, rubber soles of his shoes screeching against the metal floor as he furiously waited for the shuttle retrieving Rhys to dock.

He could barely contain his anger at this point, rage starting to boil over even as he tried to stalk out the furious manic energy, stamping his feet like an angry toddler and forcing any organic workers in the hangar to give the CEO a wide berth lest they become the next target of his anger after the poor floor.

Jack might’ve welcomed some twerp getting in his way, though, to help him kill (hah) the time until he could properly throttle Rhys for his ceaseless stupidity.

Maybe Rhys hadn’t disobeyed a direct order from Jack, but he had absolutely betrayed any faith that the CEO had had in his PA’s basic frikkin’ common sense. He knew Rhys could be impulsive at times, but buying two pairs of the same socks or booking Jack a vacation without combing through his schedule first was nothing compared to sneaking down on a highly dangerous mission to Pandora.

There was a reason that Jack kept Rhys far, far away from that hellhole, even if it meant going down to the surface himself in the boy’s stead. Jack knew for a fact that Rhys was too spoiled and soft to survive long in the world of skags and bandits and mercenaries, in a landscape splattered with blood and criss-crossed with tenuous alliances. The boy’s temperament was well-suited to the subtle, underhanded corporate scene of Hyperion, but Pandora was a far, far different beast, and if it were up to Jack Rhys would never set his pretty, heeled little boots down on the planet’s surface.

Well, screw Jack, apparently! Because the kid had ignored any scrap of self-preservation and snuck down on transport shuttling a scouting battalion to a newly charted area of Pandora. Jack had given his clearance for the mission the week before, eager to see if the new terrain could be mined for some badly needed raw materials. The battalion had been well-armed but disposable, and Jack had pushed the mission from his mind until the moment he’d gotten a stern ECHO from the team leader, reporting not only an ambush by Crimson Raiders but also a shaken stowaway.

Jack was pissed off enough that he was risking losing potential resources to the bad guys, but the idea that Rhys had put himself into danger on purpose made him frikkin’ seethe.

He let out an angry growl, reaching up and messing up his own hair, making himself look rather crazed. The hangar was practically deserted now, save for the remaining Loaders who were nice enough to take a couple of angry bullets from Jack’s pistol without so much as flinching from their duties.

It seemed like an eternity before the shuttle finally floated up to the dock. Jack could see it drift steadily closer through the large windows of the hangar, heard the mechanical clicks and hisses as the shuttle clicked into place. Despite his urge to keep on shooting things, Jack tucked his pistol away, tightly crossing his arms and rapping his foot against the floor as he waited for the dock doors to open.

The steel doors suddenly whirred, unlocked in a hiss of steam as the dark shapes of the remaining armored soldiers clunked out onto the ramp, two of them flanked the door and holding a stiff salute towards Jack. The CEO ignored them, his lip curling as he saw Rhys finally emerge from the transport.

The kid looked like a dazed, baby deer, stumbling on too-long legs with his arms wrapped around himself. As he was led down the ramp from the transport flanked by two armored guards, he accidentally glanced towards Jack before quickly hiding his face against his opposite shoulder and pointedly not looking at the older man. Jack felt his shoulders tense, eyes narrowing.

Oh hell no, he wasn’t just going to be disregarded that easily.

The armored guards didn’t bother resisting as Jack shoved them aside, eyes blazing and teeth set in a clenched bone-white as he grabbed Rhys by the front of his shirt, tugging sharply and nearly pulling Rhys off balance. He let out a yelp, arms uncoiling from around himself to brace against Jack’s torso. His eyes swung back to meet Jack’s unconsciously, only to again wilt underneath the CEO’s furious glare. The meek behavior was only making Jack angrier. Didn’t Rhys give a shit that he was almost killed from his own stupidity?

“We’re going. My office. Now.” He released Rhys’ shirt only to grab his wrist, violently tugging the young man along with not another word spoken to the rest of his men. Jack’s brain was a seething pot of anger with a dash of relief and shaking fear, and he needed to do something with it before he exploded from the inside out.

Rhys let out little protesting whimpers as he was tugged along, forced to work his shaky legs against Jack’s furious pace. As soon as they’d entered Jack’s office proper the CEO had forced Rhys ahead of him, tossing him through the sleek metal doors before brushing past, stalking right up to his desk to look past the massive plate-glass windows that helmed the room.

His tense breath whistled through his teeth, jaw clenched in futilely repressed anger. He could hear Rhys awkwardly shuffling behind him, broken heels clicking against the steel of the floor. Every little sound only amplified Jack’s anger, until he gave up completely on trying to calm down.

“You,” he began, hands clenched behind him, gaze steely at the constancy of Elpis before him, marred only by the occasion drift of transport or satellite, “are a frikkin’ moron, you know that?”

“Jack, I can explain—“

“Explain what?” Jack exploded with a snarl, whirling around to glare at Rhys, who was caught with one foot up on the dais to Jack’s desk, hesitant. “How you snuck onto a mission you weren’t supposed to be within a hundred thousand miles of? Unarmed and without me knowing where the hell you were?”

“I—I wasn’t unarmed!” Rhys piped up, trying his defense, “I….I had a stun baton?”

“Oh, a stun baton, a stun baton! I didn’t know stun batons could deflect bullets, sweetheart!” Jack mocked, flapping his hands in the air. “Son of a taint, you didn’t even have a frikkin’ shield on you! Idiot!”

“Okay, it was stupid, I get it, Jack, you’re not my fucking dad!” Rhys snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Jack’s eyes blazed at the insolence as he jabbed a finger towards his PA, lips curled in anger.

“I don’t think you do get it, if you did then we wouldn’t be here.”

Jack stared furiously at Rhys for a moment, meeting the young man’s petulant glare, challenging him. Rhys met him back firmly, lips set in an angry pout, but gradually he faltered, eyes falling to the surface of Jack’s desk. The CEO felt angry triumph pool in his chest, but it wasn’t nearly not enough to sate the growling, possessive beast inside him. It wasn’t enough to have Rhys implicitly realize how stupid he had been. What Jack needed was to really make the kid feel the price of his idiotic brush with death.

“In case you forgot, sweetheart, your life is mine. You have your life because I tolerate your sass and bullshit and the only one who can take it from you is me.” Jack spat, rounding around his desk and nearly pressing chest to chest with Rhys.

“Understand?”

The young man shirked, and for a moment Jack wondered if he was gonna try to bolt like a frightened skag pup, but before he can even try Jack’s grabbing him by the stupid tie and dragging him back up to his chair. Rhys choked, nearly slipping and falling as he’s dragged along the steel floor. Jack turned on his heels and sat abruptly in his chair, yanking Rhys forward by the tie. The boy’s legs smacked into Jack’s knees, causing him to stumble forward and loose his balance as he landed with a pained oomph right over Jack’s lap.

The CEO held Rhys in place as the young man struggled, trying to get off of Jack’s legs until he planted a hand over the back of Rhys’ neck, fingers biting into the loose skin at the nape. Rhys’ entire body tensed, his struggling stuttering to a stop. Jack could feel the heat of Rhys’ pulse throbbing in his skin, could feel the way his throat tightened as he swallowed roughly.

“You know what’s gonna happen to you, don’t you?” Jack growled, his other hand smoothing down Rhys’ back, flattening his teal shirt against his spine. His eyes narrowed over the rusty blood stains splattered over the fabric, and as his hand cupped Rhys’ ass underneath his too-tight slacks, his gaze hardened.

Rhys let out a sudden yelp when Jack’s hand came down hard against his ass. The young man’s head jerked back, chin turning towards Jack in alarm only for the man’s hand to press harder against the back of Rhys’ neck as he smacked him again.

“This is what you get for putting your life in danger,” Jack snarled, hand spanking Rhys’ ass at the end of every word, the young man’s cries slowly melting together as Jack hit him harder, in more rapid succession. Rhys’ whole body jolted with each strike, embarrassed little whines breaking from his lips as he struggled to look to Jack out of the periphery of his eyes, already red and watery with pain.

The impact of his bare hand against Rhys’ clothed ass soon grew dull and unsatisfying, so Jack slid his hand underneath Rhys’ body, clumsily fiddling with his belt for a moment before growling in frustration and flipping the young man onto his back over his lap. Rhys cried out at the change of position, his face bright red and hair mussed as he looked up at Jack with pleading eyes. Jack ignored him, pressing one hand over Rhys’ throat while the other undoes his belt, pulling the tongue out of the buckle before tugging the entire belt out of the pant loops. Rhys wiggled, shifting against the uncomfortable bend in his spine over Jack’s lap.

His little moans turned into a yelp as he was flipped back onto his belly, again presented over Jack’s lap as his pants and underwear are ripped down off his hips, exposing his pale ass to Jack’s steely gaze. Rhys’ ass was cool from the circulating air of Jack’s office, skin prickling as his warm hand gave one cheek a firm grope.

Jack folded the belt over, passing it to his other hand as he stroked Rhys’ face with false sincerity, sneering at the sniveling way Rhys tried to kiss his fingers, to apologize in hope that Jack would show some restraint. Any shred of a prayer that Rhys had clung to was torn in half as Jack whipped the belt harshly right across Rhys’ ass, ripping a pained shriek from the young man’s throat.

Jack seized Rhys by the back of his stiff white collar this time, holding him in place as he smacked him hard with the belt. Rhys’ body jerked with each strike, legs kicking unconsciously as Jack beats his ass without mercy.

Jack can feel his heart pounding in his chest, blood pumping behind his eyes and into his tense smirk as he whipped Rhys completely undone on his lap. The young man’s fingers twitched and dug helplessly into Jack’s pantleg, grasping his calf as he struggled to keep his head upright. Every time Rhys tried to turn his head and look at him Jack shook him by the collar, his grip only tightening, strikes only getting more and more brutal.

Bright red welts were starting to show up on Rhys’ ass as Jack smacked him, and despite Rhys’ agonized cries Jack could feel a stirring in his cock that sent a laugh—and maybe a twinge of arousal himself—through his body. Rhys’ cheeks were either red from crying or burning with humiliation, and while it’d be fun to exploit the young man’s unwitting arousal at a later time, Jack needed to make sure that his punishment really stuck with the kid.

Jack watched the back of Rhys’ head, steely eyes burning into the helpless young man as he blindly continued to thrash his rear.

“You know what I’ve seen, sweetheart? On Pandora”

He felt Rhys shake his head against his thigh after a moment. The young man tried to lift his head to look at Jack, but he presses a hand against the back of Rhys’ skull to keep him down, fingers digging into his scalp. He grabbed a fistful of Rhys’ hair as he lazily smacks his ass, criss-crossing rapid strikes over the warm flesh.

“Stiffs hit by launchers and popping like meat balloons. Eye squeezing outta skulls. People strung upside down in the sun, guts hanging out and being pecked at…stuff’s normal down there.” He let go of Rhys’ hair, letting the young man’s head fall back. Rhys nuzzled pathetically against Jack’s leg, hands clutching for purchase against his calf.

“You’re bawling your eyes out over a little punishment but I’ll tell ya. This is nothing compared to all that.” Jack snarled as he whipped Rhys particularly hard against the ass, the buckle biting against his skin. “Nothing. You should be thanking me.”

“Y….Yes….sir….” Rhys whimpered wetly, tears dripping against Jack’s pant leg. Jack cracked the belt once across Rhys’ thighs before striking it quickly on his ass while the flesh’s still quivering.

“So? What do you say?”

Jack stayed his hand, the belt resting across Rhys’ rear as he listened to the young man’s quiet sniffles and moans. He raised his arm again, hefting the belt up as he waited on an answer.

“T….thank you….”

“Good boy.” Jack grinned, before bringing down the belt again.

Jack’s interest in the punishment began to wane as soon as Rhys stopped responding as quickly to the still-intense beating his ass was getting. Soon, the boy’s kicks grew less violent, his body trembled less, and little tears trickled from his sore, red eyes. Jack’s smacks grew fewer and less harsh, until he finally rested the now-warm leather belt against Rhys’ ass, noticing how the beaten skin barely twitched anymore even as the firm edge of the belt pressed against a throbbing welt. Jack, finally sated and bored with thrashing the young man any further, tossed the belt aside, letting it clatter against the steel floor as he slowly turned his yellow chair around to face the massive space window.

Jack’s eyes fell to take a full inventory of the damage he’d done to his PA. Rhys’ shirt was rucked up uncomfortably around his chest, his hair thoroughly mussed out of what had remained of his gelled up coif by Jack’s raking fingers. His ass was a mess of long, red welts, some spotted with blood. Already developing bruises scattered in dark pink splotches all over his formerly pristine skin. Jack felt satisfaction flood through him as he looked at the painting of wounds on his PA’s ass. No doubt it’d be a nice reminder for the kid every time he tried to sit down for the next week.

In fact, why not test it out right now?

Rhys let out an agonized choke as Jack yanked him up by the collar, shifting him to sit sideways in his lap. Rhys cried, nearly jumping out of Jack’s lap but the CEO held him firm, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist as the other steadied his thigh.

“Easy easy, precious, don’t go bolting off now. Pretty sure you couldn’t make it two feet without falling.” Jack pressed his lips against the side of Rhys’ neck, feeling the tremble of the boy’s sobs as he struggled to get comfortable with his wounded ass. Rhys eventually rested his head against Jack’s shoulder, his entire body shaking. He cried openly, tears rolling down his cheeks even as he tried to rub them out against the CEO’s jacket.

Satisfaction slowly crawled towards sympathy—or as much sympathy as someone like Handsome Jack can muster—as he calmly petted Rhys’ trembling form. He hushed Rhys’ softly, demeanor switched from the punitory anger that had been coursing through him earlier. The kid appeared to have learned his lesson, so the furious beast inside of the CEO had been calmed for the time being.

His hand drifted slowly up Rhys’ thigh, gradually cupping the young man’s bare cock. Rhys had softened a little bit, but there was still a stirring of hardness under his palm. He left his hand there, resting, not yet demanding anything more of Rhys other than his sniffling submission.

Jack was harder than ever, dick twitching with each little pained whine, but he tried to ignore it for the time being. At least until Rhys was calm enough for him to rub one out between his abused thighs.

Rhys’ breathing hitched against Jack’s neck, a pitiful mewl trickling from his lips every time Jack shifted slightly, changing the pressure on Rhys’ wounded behind. Jack clucked his tongue softly, shushing Rhys. He tilted his chin down, barely able to brush his lips against the top of Rhys’ head, taking a deep breath of Rhys’ scent, tinged with sweat and fear and relief.

“You know I don’t like to do that, kitten.” It was a lie, and Jack knew it, but it was what Rhys wanted to hear. Rhys nuzzled against Jack’s neck, pressing a placating kiss against his skin, and Jack allows it this time.

“S….Sorry…” Rhys managed, voice hiccuping gently with sobs as he pressed himself closer to Jack, craving the comfort that the capricious CEO seemed willing to give.

“Sorry what?” Jack’s fingers trailed up Rhys’ quaking belly, feeling the young man’s tingling skin flinch under his touch.

“S-Sorry….sir….for going on the mission…”

“And, and you’re not gonna do it again, are you pumpkin?” Jack said, voice high and condescending. He felt Rhys nod against his neck.

“No…”

“Good boy.” Jack patted Rhys’ thigh, eyebrow raising as the boy’s cock twitched at the compliment. Jack smirked as Rhys’ body shivered, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the CEO’s sweater. He moved his thumb and forefinger to curl around Rhys’ cock, cradling it in his warm palm. Jack nudged his nose against Rhys’ temple, tipping the young man’s face away from his throat, Rhys’ neck relaxing back against Jack’s shoulder. Rhys’ eyes looked up at Jack, and the older man could see the flash of arousal blooming through the cloud of wet pain still clinging to his lashes.

He slowly started to stroke Rhys’ cock, thumb rubbing against the head, feeling the first bead of precum swelling up at the tip. Jack held Rhys closer, his arm tightening around the young man’s waist as he leaned in, brushing his lips against Rhys’ tacky, still-wet cheek.

“Don’t forget. I’m the only one who’s allowed to make you hurt, sweetheart. Because unlike those bandit assholes who would skin you screaming and crying and make you into jerky, I prefer you alive.” Jack whispered, before pressing a firm, possessive kiss against Rhys’ lips.