“Trial Run”

It didn’t help his libido that his super-hot girlfriend was basically naked all the time now. Like sure she had purple and black rocky plates hiding her grind and uh, well, Eridian mutated creatures didn’t exactly have any use for nipples, but swaths of sexy skin and powerful muscles were on display 24/7 and Jack couldn’t get enough of it.

One evening finds them in a now familiar position, with Jack on his back in his bed and Nisha towering above him, her claws holding apart his thighs as she ravages his mouth with hers, fangs scraping along his tender lips as she ruts her crotch against his dick. Jack moans as he can feel the craggy lips of her slit start to part, but what pressed up against his thigh is thicker, more solid than the wiggly slick tentacles that he’s grown used to.

Jack/monster!Nisha nsfw commission for @handsomepeacock ! I hope you like it dear! 

(I will think of a better title I swear….)

Warnings for: monster sex and oviposition 

Jack was pretty sure he had the greatest girlfriend in the entire galaxy.

Publicly, maybe he’d deny having a type—it was best to keep people of all genders thinking they might have a shot with Handsome Jack, if they kept on pledging their loyalty—but truth be told, he did. In terms of dudes it was pretty hard to turn his nose up at either the pretty fresh-faced sycophants or his own body doubles. But for ladies, well. He liked ‘em badass and buxom and boy was Nisha both of those and more.

There was nothing like a girl who could lasso assholes and line em’ up in your crosshairs before making out with you amidst burning flesh and splattered guts. Jack was practically up to his ears in willing T and A up on Helios but it took a special kind of lady to really make his dick clench.  

So, when he heard that Nisha had been involved in an incident down in Lynchwood, Jack had been ready to crack skulls and finger-paint in brains.

He was seething, filled with murderous energy and ready to tenderize some bandits or vault hunters or whoever had been responsible for harming his girlfriend, and he was already pacing the hangar deck with his pistol in hand, waiting for a shuttle full of Loaders to accompany him down to Lynchwood to lay frikkin’ waste to the whole damn area, when he received a follow-up message from the Hyperion agents already down on Pandora.

Well?” Jack snarled, little patience left in him for the stammering on the other line, the man clearly jittered from speaking with the infuriated CEO.

“H-Handsome Jack, sir, the sheriff, she’s—“

“What happened to her? Is she alive?” Jack hissed, feeling the blood boil in his body as the idiot on the other end failed to gather his words quickly enough for him. If only he could put a bullet right through to this guy’s brain.

“S-She’s fine sir, not injured, but…we’re bringing her up in a shuttle now.”

Jack chuffed loudly, stamping his feet against the echoey steel of the hangar, before he hung up, resigning himself to waiting for the shuttle to arrive. At the very least, Nisha was alive, but Jack didn’t know what the hell the agent’s stammering and stuttering meant exactly. All Jack wanted to know was what the hell had happened down there, and who he needed to kill to fix the problem.

He stood with his arms crossed, pistol hanging from his hand as the shuttle finally docked, a cool accented female voice announcing its arrival. Jack narrowed his eyes as the door to the shuttle hissed open, though the massive, weighty form that clunked through the opening and onto the steely gangplank shocked a yelp from the CEO, who quickly levered his pistol right at its chest and fired off a shot.

To his horror, the creature didn’t falter at all despite the direct shot at where Jack figured its heart would be—though that gave him a moment to properly take in exactly what he was looking at. Most of the body was lizard like and covered in craggy scales like cracking plates of earth, veined with glimmering purple. However, hints of humanity bled through the alien parts of the creature, and sleek black hair and a pair of piercing, violet eyes made Jack’s eyes widen in realization at exactly who he was looking at.

“Well, hello to you too, Jack,”  Nisha purred, flicking the crushed bullet from where it’d lodged in the topography of her chest. Her voice was considerably deeper and rougher than it had been before, and the sound went right to Jack’s dick, much to his surprise. His gun clattered to the floor from his numb hand as she scraped down the gangplank, utterly dwarfing him in size as a slim tail curled up around his leg, spikes pressing up against his calf.

“I….what…?” Jack mumbled dumbly, eyes still fixed on his towering, monstrous girlfriend. She took his chin in one of her clawed hands, pressing a finger against his lower lip.  

“Can we save the questions for later? I’m tired and dirty and I probably need a bath or something. Some of that good old-fashioned Helios hospitality sounds nice. Sure you’d oblige me, huh handsome?” She smelled like fire and blood and burnt skin, and it was making Jack’s own flesh crawl.

He licked his lips, eyes suddenly filled with oodles of horny possibility.

“Oh baby, yes.”


Unfortunately, “Helios hospitality” had to wait, as some of Jack’s scientists had insisted that Nisha be tested in the chance she was still irradiated from the accident. The CEO had begrudgingly agreed, standing with his arms crossed, fantasies about all the sexy things he could be doing with his newly monstrous girlfriend swirling in his head as he watched Nisha be poked and prodded with things that weren’t his dick. He tapped his foot against the steel floor, snapping his fingers at his scientists to try to get them to go faster, give Nisha a clean bill of health so he could go explore her new body in private.

“Well, err, Handsome Jack sir,” the lead researcher stammered, flicking through a analytical display that presented an image of Nisha’s innards, “while her body has been inexorably changed by the Eridium in the blast, we’ve found little evidence of any ill-effects on her health, as far as we can tell all new and mutated parts are functioning normally…”

Great, so can I please take my hot monster girlfriend back to my penthouse so I can fuck her, please?” Jack said gruffly, all tact gone out of his body an hour ago when they’d first been ushered here to

“Ah—er—I wouldn’t—who knows what kind of side effects—I mean!” The lead researcher stammered, nervously eyeing both the pistol still strapped to Jack’s thigh and his increasingly frustrated expression. “Whatever you think would be best, sir.” He clasped his tablet tightly to his chest, as if anticipated he might need it to deflect more of Jack’s anger—or a bullet.

“Cool. Thanks, eggheads, for telling me things I already know.” Jack snorted, stamping over to the room where Nisha was being examined and wrenching open the door. “Yo, babe! C’mon, let’s blow this joint.”

“And I was just starting to have so much fun, too…” Nisha uncrossed her thick legs, pushing off the straining examination table and landing with a clattering thump to the floor, before following Jack out the room, tail curling under the chin of the lead researcher and just barely nicking his skin, before she and Jack were gone, with their excited laughter the only thing lingering.


Jack didn’t think that sex with his girlfriend could get any better, but holy hell had he been wrong. Sure, part of him missed the squeezable softness of her ass and tits but the undeniable raw power that coursed through her body now more than made up for it.

He was usually on the receiving end, these days, which was honestly just a hell of a lot easier than trying to deal with a massive, twining tail and grasping claws while he tried to figure out which pulsing crevasse was the right one to stick his dick into. Especially when he found out that Nisha’s pussy wasn’t really much of a pussy anymore but rather a slippery sheather that hid a big, prehensile and purple cock that Jack knew he had to have inside him from the moment he saw it.

So his girlfriend had a massive, slimy alien dong. Who was going to judge either of them for what they got up to in the bedroom? As far as Jack was concerned, if it felt good, then he should do it. And they had been doing it on and off for days now, on practically every surface of the penthouse and of Jack’s office that they could think of. The big window overlooking was covered in smudge marks and his ass was starting to chafe from the amount of times he’d been rammed by his girlfriend. He was gonna need some kind of pillow for his tailbone with the rate they were getting at it.  

It didn’t help his libido that his super-hot girlfriend was basically naked all the time now. Like sure she had purple and black rocky plates hiding her grind and uh, well, Eridian mutated creatures didn’t exactly have any use for nipples, but swaths of sexy skin and powerful muscles were on display 24/7 and Jack couldn’t get enough of it.

One evening finds them in a now familiar position, with Jack on his back in his bed and Nisha towering above him, her claws holding apart his thighs as she ravages his mouth with hers, fangs scraping along his tender lips as she ruts her crotch against his dick. Jack moans as he can feel the craggy lips of her slit start to part, but what pressed up against his thigh is thicker, more solid than the wiggly slick tentacles that he’s grown used to.

“B-babe?” Jack quirked an eyebrow as he levered himself up on one elbow, trying to get a good look at what was going on between his legs, but Nisha was pressed up close against him, chest to chest as she licked and bit against the side of his neck. She let out a low hiss, lifting her lips to press up against his open mouth, silencing him as she shoved her forked tongue deep inside. Jack moaned, eyes rolling as he gave into his girlfriend’s mouth, making out ravenously for a couple more moments before his girlfriend’s thickening cock again commanded his attention. Jack wanted to just let himself go to the passion of the moment, but the sheer size of the thing pressing up against him made him frown in concern as he pulled away from her lips and tongue.

“W…what’s it doing…? Nish…?” Jack asked dazedly, feeling the blunt, flared head of his girlfriend’s cock against his ass. He clenched tightly against it out of nerves, not sure exactly what was going on, and Nisha wasn’t exactly answering him, instead scraping her fangs along his jawline and letting out low, animal growls as she tried to rut herself against Jack.

“Nisha—“

“S’ gonna make you feel good, is what it’s doing,” she snapped, claws pinning down his wrists as the head of this new cock, already leaking with fluid, pushed up against Jack’s asshole. The man shuddered in her grasp, trying to force himself to open up and relax even as she pushed insistently up against him.

“B-Babe….nnnh…” Jack groaned as the flowering head of her cock suddenly popped inside of him, stretching his ass out beyond what she’d done to him before. It was definitely a lot more to take in than her tentacle dick, much thicker and less squishy and giving than the more malleable appendages. The muscles in his ass clenched and shuddered around her, burning in the stretch as she pushed into him in short, staccato thrusts.

His hands grasped at her back, grabbing a handful of rocky protrusions as she buried her cock inside of him, Jack wincing and gritting his teeth as the length of cock just kept going, showing his poor ass no quarter as it speared him through all way to his gut. When she finally stopped Jack was left gasping for breath, feeling utterly stretched and full, and while he was pretty sure he was going to be extra sore tomorrow, he also felt good.

Another deep growl was building up in Nisha’s throat, her tail swiping against the bed and knocking some of the sheets to the floor as she straightened out her arms and pushed herself up off of the bed, hunching over Jack, his hips lifting with his movement until his ass was hovering in the air, locked with her cock.  

Her hips slowly started to move, pulling back until the cock inside of him pulled out a third of the way before slamming back inside of him, making his back arch off the bed as he let out a noise halfway between pain and pleasure, eyes screwed shut as she started to fuck him proper.

Pathetic, definitely unmanly whines were rasping from Jack’s throat as Nisha’s cock practically thrust into the pit of his stomach, making his insides shift and squirm as she penetrated even deeper inside him than she had beforehand.

He could even see the flat, tan flesh of his stomach start to bulge out every time Nisha buried herself in to the hilt, showing just how deep her cock could reach inside of him. He’d loved the typical tentacles that Nisha had used on him for their friction and tactility, but he had to give this one the number-one prize in terms of sheer length and thickness.

His hands fisted uselessly against her upper back, losing himself to Nisha’s ferocity as he was fucked, the experience so different than anything they had done together before, even including all the stuff they’d tried since she’d been mutated.

However, a couple minutes into their sex, and Jack was starting to feel something….weird. He was starting to go numb around his loins, different from the usual warm arousal that built whenever Nisha was fucking him. He furrowed his brows in confusion as the numbness spread down to his legs, making him feel like he only had half a body. It didn’t necessarily feel bad—on the contrary, it was pretty pleasant, like his lower body was being submerged in a bubbling hot tub.

“Muh….Nisha…” He moaned dazedly, his hands coming up to slide through the silky black locks of her hair, before his fingers found the base of their horns and firmly grasped them. Her horns were warm, as if the pulsing purple blood the flooded her body curled up into them, and he loved touching them. He knew Nisha loved when he touched them too, a tight breath hissing from between her fangs as Jack stroked her horns.

Jack was so out of it, losing himself to the honey pleasure buzzing around his body, that he barely noticed something other than Nisha’s cock pushing into him until he felt an even stranger pressure in his stomach. He fluttered his eyelids, trying to blink clarity back as he craned his neck up, glancing down at his stomach.

His monstrous girlfriend had paused slightly in her fucking, shuddering with some kind of alien pleasure above him as her hips rutted shallowly up against his ass. She shoved his forearms down to the bed, pinning his wrists down roughly. Jack raised an eyebrow as he felt her cock growing thicker, rounder against his entrance, inexorably pushing forward and widening him even further. He moaned at the feeling, disoriented and confused as to what was going on until the pressure at his ass finally popped, something round and solid now traveling up into his gut.

“W-what’s it doing?” Jack slurred, his wrists jerking futilely against the iron grasp of his girlfriend. Nisha lifted her head and locked eyes with him, and in that moment Jack felt more like a scared rabbit caught in the claws of a predator than he ever had before in his life. It was just at this time that the shape inside him pressed up against his prostate, and the combination of that and the hungry, dilated purple eyes that glared right through him made his cock jump, cum splattered against the bulge in his stomach.

“Good boy….good mate…” Nisha hissed as more of those shapes began to travel down her cock, steadily filling Jack up with things his brain distantly supplied as “eggs.” Yeah, sure. That made the most sense.

Jack was caught between laying back and continuing to enjoy the pleasure of being fucked by his girlfriend and the sick curiosity of watching more and more of her eggs being pushed into his gut. He probably should be horrified, at the way his body was being distorted, but oddly he wasn’t. Maybe it was the giddy numbness in his body and brain talking, or the way the eggs pushed up against his prostate as they wormed their way inside, but either way, Jack was finding himself incessantly aroused by the sight.

“Babe….babe. You are freaky.” Jack cackled dazedly as he watched his stomach steadily bloat from her eggs. “I love it.”

Nisha kept right on fucking egg after egg into him until Jack started to feel a little bit queasy from the pressure against his insides, and right when he thought he was going to end up upchucking the eggs out the other end the constant stream trickled to a stop, with one final egg squeezing to a halt inside his overpacked gut. Jack weakly forced out one final orgasm as Nisha quit laying her eggs, a pathetic spurt of cum dotting his swollen belly as he swore and collapsed limp against the bed.

“Ahhhh…kitten….baby…” Jack moaned, shooting Nisha a lazy smirk as deep purrs started to rumble in her chest. She wrapped her arms firmly around him, bringing him with her as she laid on her side, one of his legs slung about her craggy hips. Jack still hadn’t gotten used to how rough and scratchy she was in term of cuddling, but a deep warmth spreading through her rockier patches helped make the chafing against his skin a little less noticeable.

Jack usually wasn’t much of a cuddler, but whatever kinds of eggs had been laid in him was filling him with a warm numbness and a desire to do little more than snuggle up with the lady who was responsible for sticking them there. So Jack shifted his swollen form as close as he could, aided by her strong arms, and his mind quickly collapsed to exhaustion and granted him the bliss of sleep.


Three months later and Tim had taken over the majority of Jack’s public appearances, at least those that involved him being seen below the chest. The CEO’s current carriage wasn’t really one that suited the image of the awesome, blood-spattered hero-king. Jack swore up and down that he was still a hardcore, dyed in the wool badass, but even he had to admit that his body looked a little too soft and maternal to jive with the image he’d already cultivated. Also, his feet and back hurt a lot, so he didn’t mind that much leaving most of the swaggering and posing to his body double.

Sitting was quickly becoming his new favorite pastime, just slouching in his yellow chair and watching the big mound of his stomach popping out from under his sweater. He couldn’t button up his shirt or waistcoat anymore and had just ditched both items on the pile of laundry at home, down to just his sweater and jacket and a stretchy pair of pants. Nisha had bought them for him, and he knew that he should have looked them over at least once but he was pretty sure he’d been dying from back cramps at the time and had just wanted her to leave him alone. So he was now rockin’ some flared spandex pants with gaudy stripes of yellow and black paisley running down the legs. At least his desk hid both the atrocious thing and his swollen belly from most people he had to meet with, lest rumors started to fly that Handsome Jack was looking less like a cool warlord and more like a soccer mom workin’ on her third kid.

He lazily approved the plans for a new line of elemental SMGs on his tablet before the door to his office snapped open, greeting entrance to the massive form of Nisha, who know had to duck her head under the doorway to avoid clanging it on the metal frame, though in a battle between infrastructure and her rock hard forehead, Jack wasn’t sure who would win anymore.

“Hey, Jackie, how’s the brood?” Nisha asked idly as she thudded across the office and up the dais to his desk, utterly dwarfing him as she placed her hands on her hips, eyes falling to his swollen stomach.

“Feels like I’ve got a boulder in my stomach. Damn, Nish, did you fill these things with frikkin’ concrete?” Jack groused as he strained to rise to his feet, his girlfriend watching him with a smirk before she finally helped steady him.

“Poor baby, you need mommy to carry you to bed?” She snickered, earning herself a peeved look.

“Well, it would be nice, if you’re actually offering it—“ He started to grumble before he was cut off in a yelp as Nisha hoisted him off his feet and hefted him in up a bridal carry. Jack’s hands scrambled for purchase, one grasping her rocky forearm as the other cradled his quaking stomach.

“Easy, easy!” Jack huffed as he wiggled like a fish in her rocky arms.

“You done with work?”

“I—well I still—“

“You’re done now, handsome.”

“I…” Jack opened his mouth to complain, but being cradled in his girlfriend’s arms was more appealing than sitting around doing work, so…

“Okay, fine.” Jack smirked as he snuggled back into Nisha’s embrace, rest his head against his girlfriend’s hard, warm chest.


It happened when Jack was laying in his sleeping girlfriend’s hard arms, the rumpled sheets tossed carelessly about their bodies. A steadily building pressure in his gut slowly awoke Jack from a dead sleep, making him groan and wince as he pushed himself himself up into a tenuous sitting position. His swollen stomach got in the way of most natural movement, weighing him down and making anything other than laying down a chore. But the sudden tense churning inside of him forced him into action, and he dragged his naked form over to the edge of the bed and toddled to his feet.

His first instinct—that he just really needed to take a dump—was replaced by the sudden movement of the large eggs inside of him. He pressed his hand against his stomach as he nearly fell against the wall, holding onto it for support as he felt his knees quake beneath him. A hot, secondary pain was building in his lower back, and he swore as he slid down the wall and spread his legs. His heels ground into the bedroom floor, ass feeling pressure build and build until it popped, fluid suddenly gushing out of his hole and spilling, glowing and purple, into the carpet.

“Agh….damn it, damn it, N-Nisha!” Jack roared, hands scrabbling for purchase against his own knees as he gritted his teeth. The pain was steadily building again in his stomach, like a curling wave pushing the eggs down his tract. He let out a sobbing, angry howl when Nisha didn’t respond to him the first time, banging his head back against the wall.

“Niii-iiii-shaaaaaaaa!” He wailed like an upset child, feeling the first of the eggs push out until it nudged against his tightly clenched entrance. Sweat beaded on his skin and he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down and focus until he heard the heavy thumps of his girlfriend’s feet bound across the room to his side. A rough palm smoothed away the hair plastered on his forehead, and when Jack finally managed to open his eyes he was greeted with an unusual sight—actual, genuine concern dwelling in the glowing purple pits of Nisha’s eyes.

Few words were passed between them as the eggs slowly descended through Jack’s body, the room largely filled with Jack’s screeches and pained breaths as the muscles in his body clenched and vibrated around the foreign objects. Nisha’s broad hands rubbing his swollen torso made the process a little bit easier, but it still sucked more than Jack could convey to have to stretch his asshole around multiple large, iridescent purple eggs.

He had no idea how many he’d passed, his lower regions starting to go numb from the pain as he weakly tried to push more out, but eventually he had little strength left, his body slumping to the floor. Nisha clucked her tongue, roughly pressing her palm against Jack’s stomach so hard that Jack nearly felt like he was going to throw up.

“C’mon, Jackie, there’s still a couple left…” She hissed, seeking out the hard shapes inside Jack’s now deflated flesh and trying to guide them. Jack groaned weakly, a bit of shimmering purple fluid dripping from his lips as he felt another contraction squeeze through him.

“Hhhn….gonna be sick…” He rasped, nevertheless trying to bear down on the final couple of eggs, feeling one pop out from his weak hole and joining the large clutch between his legs. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to focus on the last two eggs still in his tract as they slowly tumbled down, lining up at his ass like pool balls. His entire body felt both hot and cold, trembling with exertion.

Apparently, he was moving too slowly for Nisha, because he felt the solid, sharp slip of her claws press into his hole, deliberately stretching him out farther as she made a grab for the eggs. Jack’s legs gave a hypnic twitch in resistance but she ignored it, grasping one egg and practically yanking it out of Jack’s body. The final egg quickly followed, tumbling after its brother and into the slicked clutch.

Jack let out a dry, relieved sob, his body going completely slack, head nodding to the side. His vision was swimming, barely able to make out his girlfriend as Nisha crouched between his legs, purple eyes glittering with pride.

Maybe when Jack woke up he could properly appreciate just how awesome he was for pushing out however many fist sized eggs had been inside of him. But as his vision started to blur, Jack honestly wanting nothing more than to pass out and give his exhausted brain and body a proper break, so that’s exactly what he did—leaving his girlfriend to horde over their newborn clutch as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and his head thumped back against the carpet.  

“Inlaid Gold”

Rhys tasted like fiercely guarded tenderness and the sweet of rosy honey sealed away for years and years, and it warms a fire in Jack’s greedy loins as he debates whether to tongue-fuck the kid now or wait and try to make Rhys feel the full force and stretch of his cock.  

His eyebrow quirked up as he noticed a twitch in his peripheral vision, his sharp eyes snaking up to see Rhys’ sweet little cock stiffening, the tiniest bead of pearly cum starting to swell at the tip. Jack snickered, his rumbling laugh vibrating through the young man’s loins as he kissed the skin next to Rhys’ balls.

“Oh? What’s this? Don’t tell me, sugarplum….do mommy and daddy know about your dragon-fucking fantasy?” Rhy’s face flushed bright red, grimace scathing even as his cock twitched under Jack’s hot breath.

“S-Shut up…I-I never thought that beasts like you could be….shut up…” he protested weakly, “I-I mean, I suppose if you want to have your way with me I….I might as well enjoy it…” He huffed, hips shifting towards Jack’s mouth as the dragon dared to flick his long tongue against the tip of Rhys’ cock, relishing in the small moan spilling from the prince’s lip as Jack lapped at the bubbling precum.

Dragon Jack/Prince Rhys Oviposition NSFW fic commission for @pumpkinpillars​ ! I hope you like it dear! It kind of got really long lol.

Warnings in this one for: oviposition, kidnapping, and dubious consent

Interested in Commissions? Message me! | Or leave a tip if you like!

Jack had found the pretty little thing wandering in the woods, atop an elegant white horse and looking so deliciously lost. He was lanky and elegant, auburn hair curled against his pale neck, flowing turquoise and gold robes draped about his body like water. Best of all, was the young man’s right hand, shyly gripping at the horse’s reins. It glinted in the light filtering through the leaves, showing off the golden knuckles and the runes engraved into the plated back of the hand. Jack could smell the magic on it, and it was making him salivate just as much as the sight of the lost little creature.

By his clothes, the young man was certainly of noble blood, if not royal. The plated hand with its intoxicating smell certainly spoke to a very wealthy, high-class upbringing. As did the cautious, meandering way in which he ambled his horse through the clearing.

His eyes flashed with fear every time a slight rustle sounded in the woods, scared as a rabbit. It was delightful to watch, and when he saw the young man lick his lips with a sweet little pink tongue, Jack resolved to have him as his own.

Not wanting to waste another moment lurking and watching, Jack exploded into his true form out of the underbrush, the scream of the his catch drowned out by the terrified whinny of his horse and Jack’s triumphant roars as tears the young man from atop his steed. His massive wings flap and flatten the grass and bushes of the small clearing as he takes off into the sky, leaving the tops of the trees behind him. The cries of his catch are distant, lost in the rush of the wing as Jack soars through the sky, claws keeping a tight grasp on the thrashing young man hanging below his bulk.  

Jack had a greedy fantasy building in his brain as he flew his struggling, screaming little cargo back to his mountainside lair. It had been a long while since he’d properly laid with a human, the dragon’s clear memory calling up the muscular form of a delightful young knight that he had ravished for days on end before draining the life from his body. He couldn’t wait to see this little morsel laid out underneath him, and once Jack was finished with him, that golden arm would look lovely resting limp and blood-splattered atop his hoard.

He cut through the sky like a fang through flesh, heading for the distant heather mountains shrouded in lingering fog. He beat his wings hard against the air, scales glimmering in the afternoon sun as he shot towards his lair, massive heart beating with adrenaline deep inside his chest.

His excitement at exploring his new prey cut the trip time in half, as Jack would usually fly at a languid pace, enjoying the view and perhaps tormenting groups of travelers or herds of livestock on his way. As the sun started to dip towards the horizon, Jack flew into the growing shadow of the mountain, skirting the tree-line until his sharp eyes found the deep blue entrance to his lair. It yawned into the side of the massive peak, flanked by ancient stone pillars mounted with torches of bright yellow fire that would burn long into the night. He landed on the rocky lip extending from the cavern, feet clattering against the stone as his fore-claws keep a solid grip on his prey. He can feel the poor thing shivering and shaking against his scaly palms, prompting the dragon to quickly amble down the vast tunnel ringed with torchlight to the main body of his lair.

The burning torches and massive, flaming chandelier hanging from the ceiling reflected light off the massive hoard dominating the room, making the gold glow like a warm sun and washing liquid comfort all the way down to Jack’s bones.

The dragon gingerly rested the little human down, laying him out over a softer spot of his treasure, where piles of silk and fine fur shielded his body from the sharp solid coins and spiny jewelry that comprised most of the piles.

Gods, that little thing looked just as precious splayed out over the heap of his hoard as Jack had imagined. His slim body, swathed in fluttering azure cloth, cut a soft curl against the glimmering bright of the mounds of treasure amassed over the vast floor of the dragon’s lair.

Jack quickly melted out of his dragon form, scales shedding into glimmering smoke behind him as he shrunk into a form perhaps more pleasing to the young prince’s eyes. As much as he loved the power and fear inherent in his massive dragon body, he also reveled in the sly, inky seduction he could command with his human form.

The remainder of his scales had wrapped about him like a cloak, clothing him in robes of gold and charcoal that exposed his smooth, tanned chest to the air. His wrists and neck were wreathed in jewelry, glimmering gold studded with obsidian and garnets that glint in the flickering torchlight lining the stone walls.

Thick, ribbed horns twisted from the top of his skull and swept back over his scalp, accentuating the striking profile of his long nose and chin. The horns themselves were cracked in bands, glimmering orange light shifting like lava in the crevasses. One blue eye twinkled like a cracked opal down at his catch, the other pearly white orb unseeing for now. The skin of his face was smooth and clear save for the glowing blue scar cutting in a violent V-shape over his features.

The rustle of his tail as it drags over the sleek cobblestone of the floor hisses throughout the echo of the chamber, prehensile end snapping up an errant strand of cord from the end of a random discarded tapestry cord. He didn’t want his little prize panicking and hurting itself trying to run away, did he?

He approached the young man he had deposited on his hoard, toothy smile building across his face as his catch struggled to right himself, to take in his surroundings and figure out what had happened to him. Jack expected his prey to roll over and show his belly like a doomed hare, transfixed in the eyes of the predator as he approached, binding cord curled up in his tail and vapor steaming from his teeth.  

However, despite Jack’s anticipation, the little thing let out an angry huff, propping himself up on both hands, before fixing him with the most petulant pout that Jack had ever seen, as if the dragon had merely scuffed up the boy’s shoes rather than kidnap him.  

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The young man spat, coins spilling down the side of the hoard as he struggles around, trying to gain traction on the unstable pile. Jack blinked, face blank with surprise as he watched the little creature fuss about.

“What I’ve…? Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve bagged myself a little prize. That would be uh. You.”

“Me? I am nobody’s prize. I am the prince.”

Ah. So the little thing was a prince. That explained the fancy arm, as well as the bitchy attitude.

“A prince, huh? Well, that only makes you more delicious.” Jack smirked, showing off more teeth and hoping that would intimate the little prince into properly respecting his current position. Respect the fact that Jack could basically tear him apart and scatter his corpse over the mountainside.

But Rhys merely narrowed his eyes in indignation.

“Idiot! Did you stop to think for a moment just who you were swiping up off his horse? You….you monster, my parents will have your head mounted at the gates for this!” The prince pointed a stern finger in Jack’s direction, as if he were scolding a disobedient dog. Jack let out a terse laugh at that, tail swiping against the stone floor, sending some errant coins scattering.

My head? Oh that’s rich. You’re my prisoner, honeycake, the little rabbit caught in the claws of the wolf. Struggle less, and I won’t have to rip your throat out.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe not, maybe I’d just slit your vocal cords so I wouldn’t have to listen to your bitching,” Jack snarled, smacking aside Rhys’ accusing finger, “next time I’ll pick a less mouthy little cur to kidnap.”

“Crude thing…” Rhys hissed, kicking a shower of gold coins at Jack when the dragon skated closer. “Keep away! Don’t you curse me with your infernal touch!”

Can it, will you princess?” Jack growled as he flipped Rhy over effortlessly, planting a firm paw against the middle of the prince’s back, keeping him in place as he looped the tapestry cord over Rhys’ crossed wrists. He pulled the knot tight, binding the young man’s arms behind his back, testing its strength with a long claw. Rhys struggled and shouted all the while, trying to kick back at the dragon in vain before Jack was turning him again on his back and pressing one heavy palm against the prince’s heaving chest.

“Get your claws off of me…let me go this i-instant!” Rhys huffed, though his wide eyes betrayed the growing helplessness that Jack knew must be gnawing at his resolve.

“Oooooh, sweet-tart, it’s cute you think you have any say in this…” Jack’s dark laughter echoed around the dense stone walls as he slides a clawed hand down his torso, tickling his already aroused excitement. He palmed his dick, smirking as it stiffened and pushed out from beneath his robes, the fabric parting like liquid as his member curls up towards his belly. His cock was thick, dark at the tapered tip and decorated with ridges running up and down the dorsal side. It was a handsome looking dick that he’s spent a fair amount of time with, and he just couldn’t wait to see the way it looked buried to the hilt in Rhys’ little body.

“No! Stop this at once, you monster!” Rhys let out an impressive little growl, for a human, but compared to Jack’s own dark laugh it was still nothing.

“Please, what are you going to do to stop it, babe? Go on. I dare ya.” Jack slipped out one long claw, drawing the tip over the front of the prince’s torso, watching with delight as Rhys’ belly and muscles twitched underneath the clingy silk.

“I….I…” The prince’s voice hitched pathetically in his throat, looking up at Jack with wide, limpid eyes that still held a bit of useless fight in them. Well, Jack would certainly have to take care of that until the little thing knew his place.

Ignoring his fidgeting, Jack pulled the hem of Rhys’ robe up and over his hips, eyes glimmering as he exposed the prince’s bared privates to the world.

“You royals too good to wear anything under your robes? Makes it easier for me…” Jack snickered as he reached between the prince’s legs, long claws skating over tender, untouched flesh. His nail tickled between the young man’s asscheeks, grasping one soft globe in his claw before lifting Rhys’ rear up off of the hoard to get a better view.

Jack honestly almost felt bad for the tight, pink little hole that greeted him when he spread apart the kid’s asscheeks, especially as his thick cock pulsed and dripped in arousal. Jack half-wondered if it would even fit, or if the kid would be too unbearably tight for Jack to have that much fun with. Oh well—if fucking the kid’s ass didn’t exactly work out, then well—he still had a nice little mouth that could use some stuffing.

Smoke curled wickedly over Jack’s lips as he grasped Rhys’ tightly by the hips, kneeling between the boy’s legs, relishing in the feeling of his hoard spilling against his calves and tail. His tongue flicked out over his lips, twisting and lapping along Rhys’ inner thigh as he dipped his head between the prince’s legs, wanting to taste him before he properly defiled the little thing.

Rhys’ legs shook and the softest, sweetest little ah whimpered from his mouth when Jack pressed the flat of his forked tongue against the delicate pink flesh of the prince’s hole, coating it in thick, draconic saliva.

Rhys tasted like fiercely guarded tenderness and the sweet of rosy honey sealed away for years and years, and it warms a fire in Jack’s greedy loins as he debates whether to tongue-fuck the kid now or wait and try to make Rhys feel the full force and stretch of his cock.  

His eyebrow quirked up as he noticed a twitch in his peripheral vision, his sharp eyes snaking up to see Rhys’ sweet little cock stiffening, the tiniest bead of pearly cum starting to swell at the tip. Jack snickered, his rumbling laugh vibrating through the young man’s loins as he kissed the skin next to Rhys’ balls.

“Oh? What’s this? Don’t tell me, sugarplum….do mommy and daddy know about your dragon-fucking fantasy?” Rhy’s face flushed bright red, grimace scathing even as his cock twitched under Jack’s hot breath.

“S-Shut up…I-I never thought that beasts like you could be….shut up…” he protested weakly, “I-I mean, I suppose if you want to have your way with me I….I might as well enjoy it…” He huffed, hips shifting towards Jack’s mouth as the dragon dared to flick his long tongue against the tip of Rhys’ cock, relishing in the small moan spilling from the prince’s lip as Jack lapped at the bubbling precum.

He pulled back, taking a quick glance between Rhys’ loosening, but still tight hole and the girth of his own cock curving to full hardness from between his robes. As much as he would love to make Rhys feel every agonizing inch of his cock, he’s starting to like the kid, and he’d prefer something inside of him not tear or rupture and leave him without one sweet sassy little captive. So, fine, he’ll give the kid a little appetizer before they get on to the main course.

He was pretty generous for a dragon. Rhys should be kissing his claws for this.

Jack’s tongue flickered back down to Rhys’ hole, the forked tip quickly wiggling inside of the tight little pucker. The prince gasped, squirming and sending coins and jewelry cascading down the side of the hoard, the little clinking and clattering of his treasure in tandem with his prize’s aroused movement making Jack’s groin flutter in warmth.

He pushed his tongue in as far as it could go, running the delicate fork over the prince’s twitching insides, tasting woefully under-touched territory as he opens the young man up, covering his stretched hole in thick saliva before he slides out. Jack licked his lips, smirking at the sight of Rhys’ cock, fully erect and red at the tip, trembling with barely contained lust.

“Easy, honeycake, don’t go off just yet, not when the fun is just about to start.” Jack laughed, giving the prince’s thigh a pat as he straightens up and grabs ahold of Rhys’ legs, tugging them around his waist. His rucked up robes continued to expose more of his skin as Jack manhandled him, the dragon catching sight of curious blue marks against pale flesh, something he was certain he would explore later.

Right now, however, his dick was practically crying for a chance to be buried in Rhys’ hot, shuddering little hole.

He pressed his claws lightly into the meat of Rhys’ legs, loving the give of flesh lovingly raised and pampered behind royal walls, now his to explore and claim. His dick shuddered, dripping cum all over the rucked up robes around Rhys’ waist as he dragged it down over the prince’s stomach to position at the head at his hole. Jack’s pupils slitted with lust, misty breath boiling over his fangs as he squeezed Rhys’ thighs and began to press the head of his cock against the prince’s ass.

“C-Careful!” Rhys squeaked out, body tensing up as Jack started to push in, his thighs trying to twitch close even as Jack held them firmly apart. The dragon himself was tensing at the tightness, the vice of Rhys’ ass clenching around him as he sought to bury himself in that tempting warmth.

“You’re going to ruin my robes…” Rhys whined, wiggling his hands against the tapestry cords binding his wrists together behind his back. He arched his body upwards, clearly peeved at having his spine pushed down into the warm metallic edges of Jack’s hoard.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to bite you, kid,” Jack snarled, licking his tongue over his fangs as the head of his cock finally popped inside of Rhys, “why don’t you just sit back and take my cock like a good little human?”

“I am, and that’s the problem…” The captive prince fussed, thighs trembling as he rutted back and forth against the member slowly pushing into him, “…it’s not my fault you’re packing a tree limb in your pants.”

“C-cut the attitude, you little punk, or I’m going to fuck you in my true form. You won’t have enough air left in you to keep bitching.” Jack grunted, punctuating his intent with a sharp thrust, burying half of his shaft inside of him.

Nnngh….you wouldn’t…” Rhys panted, “won’t….won’t be much fun if you k-kill me….”

“Hmm. Guess you’re right.” Jack grunted as he eased the rest of his cock into Rhys, rubbing the young man’s cock between their bellies, trying to get the prince to relax enough to get the final fleshy knob of his cock inside of him. For the first time in his life he cursed his claws for their inability to properly fist the kids cock or finger-fuck without making his little prize bleed out. Thankfully, Rhys seemed to ease up enough for Jack to wedge the rest of his cock inside of him, his shrouded crotch finally pressed up against the prince’s tender backside.

The first couple of inches of thrusting were tight, Rhys’ body constricting around his cock and making it difficult for Jack to move and set up a proper rhythm. Jack grasped the young man’s hips in concentration as he rocked himself forward and back until he’d carved out a decent enough pace in Rhys’ ass. The prince’s body shifted and slide against the hoard, more coins and jewels flooding down the pile as Rhys scrambled for purchase against Jack’s thrusts.

“Ah….ah!

Jack felt flushed with feral pride at the combination of Rhys’ moans and the chatter of his treasure, the sounds satisfying his most base, draconic needs. It brought out feelings in the dragon that had long been rendered dormant, and as Jack fucked harder and faster into the young prince, he felt something changing, shifting, heating up in his lower stomach. The sudden change in sensation caused a shudder in the dragon’s movements, Jack raising an eyebrow as he shot a dazed question at his crotch.

A startled hiss tore from his lips as he felt a torrent of fluid suddenly spurt from his cock, and for a moment Jack was offended that his own body had decided to come so early, but to his surprise the heat and tension inside of him only continued to build.

The feeling now blooming in his loins called back a distant memory, something long-buried underneath his pursuit of riches and technology now unfurling like a burning rope within him. It made prickles of hot and cold shudder up his spine, making his tail writhe against the floor as his hips stuttered, halting flush against the prince’s ass.

Rhys gasped in the sudden stillness, head resting back against the hoard for a moment before he slowly craned his neck to look at Jack, fixing the dragon with a blushing, puzzled stare.

“W-What’s wrong…?” He asked, voice already husky from sex.

“W-well, uh….I…oh…wasn’t really expecting this to happen…” Jack could feel sweat starting to bead on his brow, trickling down the side of his face. The movements in his lower stomach continued to twist, the long-forgotten yet familiar shapes pushing their way downwards towards the base of his cock. He bit his lip, claws tightening into Rhys’ hips as he felt the smooth, round shapes start to push out through his shaft, making it bulge out like peas in a pod. Rhys let out a shocked whine as the first object started to press against his already full hole, stretching him out even further.

Nngh, what are you doing? What’s going on?” Rhys demanded as he grasped at Jack’s claws holding his waist, glaring down at where he and the dragon were joined. His eyes widened as he saw the large bulges working their way down Jack cock, a cry tearing through him when the first large lump was squeezed past his hole and pushed inside.

“Hhh….looks like you’re gonna become a mother, honeycake.” Jack hissed through his gritted fangs as the solid heat of the eggs pushed through his cock, relieved arousal flooding him every time one more was deposited inside of Rhys.

“S-Stop this! Stop this at once!” Rhys struggled to sound imperious as his insides were being pushed aside for the eggs sliding inside of him. He placed firm hands on his stomach, pressing down with both palms

“Oh, pumpkin…there’s no way to stop it once it starts,” Jack purred through a chuckle, hips thrusting forward as his loins continue throbbing with warmth. The eggs churned inside him as they began to squeeze out through his cock, the shapes bulging the shaft out as they stretched open Rhys’ hole. There was nothing quite as satisfying as hearing the bratty little prince’s breath hitch and hiccup as another egg shoved its way inside of him.

“Mmm, look at you, kiddo, not so slim and svelte anymore, huh? What would your parents say if they saw you all fat with my eggs?” Jack grinned with all his fangs as he traced his claws along the prince’s swollen belly, playing with the flesh, feeling as it plumps outwards with his offspring.

Nnnh…no….this hurts…s-stop…” Rhys whimpered, crying out as Jack cruelly grasped his stomach, feeling the shapes of the eggs underneath his skin.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, no tears,” Jack cooed with false sympathy, licking the side of Rhys’ face with his long tongue, “there’s only a few more….dozen left…” He laughed harshly at Rhys’ pathetic whine of fear.

In reality, there was only four or five more eggs left in Jack’s clutch. He pushed them out in a rapid pace, the burning in his loins spurring him to get the rest of the brood out of him, sealing Rhys up with one more spurt of warm fluid that guided the remainder of the eggs firmly into Rhys’ body.

Jack braced one claw against Rhys’ chest, holding the limp prince as he propped him up and back against Jack’s chest. The prince let out a small whimper as he was forced to sit more fully on the knot sealing him and the dragon together, the pressure causing the tightly packed eggs in his middle to shift.

“Mmmm, not feeling so high and mighty now, huh kitten?” Jack laughed as he roughly cupped Rhys’ midsection, relishing in the kid’s pathetic, pained little whines.

“S-Stoooop, I’m gonna pop…” Rhys whimpered, trying to shift away from Jack’s harsh palm as the dragon rubs his belly.

“No you’re not, sweetheart, not unless I decide to gut you for being a disobedient little thing and let my eggs nest in your entrails.” Jack teased as he flicked a claw against the prince’s distended middle, making Rhys cry out in pain.

As much as Jack would like to stay up later tormenting the poor, prissy little prince, the laying and sex had tired him out, especially after his long day of roaming the woods. His loins ached, and sleep was pulling at his brain. So he let Rhys off the hook for now.

He snipped the tapestry cord with his claws, letting Rhys’ hands loose. The prince sags over to his side, body shaking with deep breaths as his hands cup his swollen belly, eyes wide and teary with fear. His chest trembled with distressed cries as he was finally able to feel just how much Jack’s eggs had wrecked his body.  

Ugh….really? Look what you’ve done…you beast…” Rhys moaned petulantly, feeling the firm shapes underneath his fingers.

“Mmmm, you’re so nice and full, kitten. Really easy on the eyes.” Jack purred as he snaked atop his hoard, curling up around the gravid young man. He wrapped Rhys up in his arms, leaving the prince’s heavy belly unrestricted as he cuddled into his newfound little prize.

Jack had anticipated killing his little prize after sex, ripping that pretty arm off his body and mounting it against the wall, and yet now the dragon was far more invested in seeing his little tart brought to term with his clutch, if the young man’s body could take it. One way or another, Jack was content to let this all play out, rather than cut it down before the young prince had a chance to blossom.

Rhys was apparently far too exhausted to struggle or complain much further, his body simply sagging in Jack’s embrace and giving into sleep before the dragon too slipped into pleasant dreams.

To his surprise, Jack found himself pleased that the little prince retained his fire after being subdued and bred by the dragon. As annoying as the prince’s sass had been at first, Jack now found himself largely amused by it, laughing out loud more than once at Rhys’ spunky complaints and entertaining, if fangless, insults.

Jack had had plenty of pretty little toys and baubles, and it was a nice change of pace to have one with more personality.

He had let Rhys explore his lair with relative freedom, only sealing off the entrance with a massive boulder whenever he left to hunt or fell asleep. It wasn’t as if the young man could go very far with his current, egg-laden carriage anyway, and though he was confident the prince couldn’t get far even if he did escape the lair, he didn’t want his precious boy to fall down the side of the mountain and hurt himself.

The prince complained nearly every time Jack lavished his affections on him lately, whining that he was far too large to have anything near Jack’s cock pushing inside of him. When the clutch had been smaller, Jack had dismissed him, but at this point Jack was inclined to agree with the young man’s concerns. His belly had grown considerably from when Jack had first laid his clutch in Rhys, the shapes of the eggs now showing softly through his skin where before they had only been tangible. So he’d largely let up on penetrative sex for the time being, merely rutting his cock against the prince’s soft cheeks, or relishing in his slick mouth on the occasion where Rhys was willing and eager to pleasure him in that fashion.

Jack spent the majority of his time hunting—either for new treasure to decorate his pretty prince and lavish hoard with, or for food to feed himself and the surprisingly ravenous prince. At the moment, he was sailing through the air back towards his lair, two large bucks caught limp in his claws as he eagerly anticipated seeing Rhys once more. The boy had been sleeping when he had left in the early dawn, curled up on the bed of furs and silks that Jack had made for him atop the warm shimmer of his hoard. He had pressed a couple of kisses to the young man’s tender face and his rounded, silk-swathed belly, but the whistle of the wind and the isolation of the forest hunt had left the dragon craving again for the touch of his companion.

He briefly set down his kill at the lip of his lair as he landed, roughly yanking the massive boulder he’d planted in front of the entrance to the side, before picking up the deer and ambling down the hall towards the main chamber. His heart flourished and bloomed with warmth as he retreated back into the welcoming belly of the carven and the glowing splendor of his hoard—with his little friend perched on top.

For the past month or so since he’d been trapped in Jack’s lair, Rhys had found plenty of ways to busy himself aside from cuddling the dragon or sating his carnal needs. Jack had observed that Rhys was quite the tinkerer, enjoying fixing up some of the old clocks or broken jewelry that Jack had spilling over his hoard.

The prince’s most recent project was a small music box that hadn’t worked since the day Jack had brought it—swiped from a wrecked royal caravan from a far off desert land—that Rhys had plucked from the hoard and set about fixing. He’d been working on the damn thing for days now and still hadn’t gotten it to work, but gods if he wasn’t going to brush off all of Jack’s advances to focus on it, leaving the dragon scowling and kicking his feet up in the air like a bored dog.

He was working on the music box now, as Jack made his way into the room proper, gazing intently at the opened lid as it let out weak, warped creaks. Jack trotted to Rhys’ side, letting his kills fall from his claws as he shrunk down into his humanoid form, grinning sharp bloodstained fangs as he swept closer to the young man. He could see into the open lid of the music box, where a tiny, ceramic figure of an angel was struggling to turn. Rhys looked up, fingers briefly halting the work he was doing with a small, makeshift bone tool.

“Venison again?” Rhys scowled as he looked over to the bloodied dear carcasses Jack had slapped against the floor of the lair. “If only you would scavenge from my father’s private livestock. It would upset him but at least I’d have something better to eat…”

“Hey kiddo, venison is good eating. Besides, getting shot at by dear ol’ daddy’s guards wasn’t exactly something I was itching to do today.” Jack slinked past the two bucks, relaxing on the pile of treasure next to Rhys, the prince’s hands taking a now familiar spot atop Jack’s head, fingers scratching against his scalp and occasionally rubbing the base of his horns. A purr rumbled in Jack’s chest as he bumped up into Rhys’ hand.

“You’re just like the house cats at the palace…bringing me dead animals….wanting to be pet…” Rhys tutted as he stroked up and down Jack’s horns. A pleased grin curled over the dragon’s face, showing off the tips of his fangs.

“ ‘Cept I have a nice fat cock to fuck you with, sugarplum.”

“More like squish my insides around like jelly…” The prince sighed, setting aside the music box completely as he rested his palm against the curve of his stomach. Jack’s sharp ears could hear the soft tap of the eggs as they rustled inside of the prince.

“Speaking of…Is this going to be over soon?” Rhys hissed, one hand bracing against his swollen belly as he adjusted his seat, turning on his side to properly face Jack, “I’m tired….I’m as big as an ox…”

“In due time, honeycake. I’d say you’re…” Jack groped Rhys’ belly softly, the prince’s wince only making his grin widen. “Just about ripe, ayup.”

“S-Stop it…don’t you treat me like…like I’m some kind of fruit…” Rhys groaned, kicking out at Jack. The dragon merely laughed, shifting closer to Rhys’ as he nuzzled affectionately into the prince’s belly, which Rhys begrudgingly allowed.

The shapes of the eggs were standing out firmly in Rhys’ belly, so much larger than they had been when Jack had first fucked them into the prince’s body. The dragon let out a warbling purr, bristling with excitement.

It wouldn’t be long now before Rhys would lay his clutch.

It happened when Jack is out on one of his hunts.

Days previously, while he had been disguising himself in a local bazaar, he had heard word of a group of bandits who had uncovered a mine of Eridium ore in the Southern Hills. Curiosity piqued, he had left Rhys alone in the lair and flown miles to the alleged location, only to nearly be caught in some ramshackle rope trap. He’d been saved only by the shoddy craftsmanship, and while he had laid waste to the bandit compound and all those who had thought they could capture him, he was still seething at his own foolishness as he beat back the wind towards his own lair.

He had been hoping to relax with his companion for the rest of the evening after his troubles, but when he pushes aside the rock and enters his cave his ears are greeted only by the sound of screaming. Fear bolts through Jack’s chest as he gallops down the tunnel into the main cavern, eyes wild in concern as fire brews in the back of his throat, ready to incinerate whatever is causing Rhys’ pain. His eyes sweep over the hoard until they narrow on the prince’s form. Rhys is thrashing about in his silken nest, legs spread and one hand clawing at his stomach as the other grips tightly into one of the blankets. Before Jack’s eyes Rhys’ hole widens, a gush of fluid dripping from the prince’s ass as something large and glimmering and black as night starts to crown through him.

Oh.

“I-It hurts! It hurts, Jack, help please!” Rhys wailed, his voice bouncing off the warm walls of the lair. Tears coursed down the poor boy’s face as he futilely held his stomach, as if trying to force back the pain with his desperate fingers. Jack plummets out of his dragon form as he runs to Rhys’ side, clawed fingers grasping at one of prince’s hands. Fear and excitement twine in his chest as he looks down at his companion sobbing and twisting as he tries to push out the eggs inside of him.

“S-Shhh, pumpkin tart, it’s okay, just breath….just breath, okay?” Jack whispers, breathing deep and audible as he tries to get Rhys to do the same, to steady his hyperventilation and calm down. Rhys whimpers and leans into Jack’s touch as the dragon cards claws through his hair, before cupping his cheek in a warm palm.

“It hurts…it hurts so much…”

“I know it hurts, sugarplum. But you need to just relax and let ‘em come.” Jack purred, voice low as he pressed smoky lips against Rhys’ forehead, feeling how sweaty he was. His tail curled around Rhys’ thighs, helping them stay open as he encouraged the young prince to breath and push in rhythm with the contractions wracking through his body. Rhys blinked up at him

“I….It’s coming out…” He whispered, voice trembling on his lips. Jack gave his hand a firm squeeze, his hand moving from Rhys’ hand to his stomach, rubbing the stretched skin and pressing lightly when Rhys’ clenched his teeth and pushed with all his might. As Rhys’ muffled scream died away, Jack could hear the soft thump of something landing in the nest. With his claw still firmly clenched around Rhys’ hand, Jack peered between the young prince’s legs to a see a large black shape nestled amidst the bright red of the bedding.

“One down, you can do it, just keep pushing…” Jack encouraged, excitement thrumming through his body as he watched his companion lay the clutch. He helped Rhys when the prince decided to move, sitting up to get a better position and use gravity to help the movement of the eggs.

Jack felt Rhys’ belly again once three eggs had been laid into the nest, touching the remaining shapes amidst the deflated flesh.

“Only a couple more, honeycake, c’mon, you can do it.” He growled as he massaged Rhys’ belly, trying to edge more of the eggs down and out of Rhys as the young prince pushed.

Soon, there was a fine clutch of eggs settled between Rhys’ legs, cradled softly in the damp silks. There were seven of them, around the size of Jack’s fist and jet black on first glance. But as Jack peered closer to inspect them, he could see scintillating specks of light glimmering on the surface—fiery golds and reds dancing in the flicker of the torches. He let out a breathy laugh, lifting the limp Rhys up in his arms to lavish him with affectionate kisses and show off what he had done. Pride gleamed in Jack’s chest as he saw his offspring, birthed by his precious companion, laying amongst the splendor of his hoard.

It was a dragon’s dream come true.

“Salt and Spice” (1/2)

As far as Vasquez was concerned, less of Rhys was a blessing, and he enjoyed the undisturbed quiet he’d earned after dealing the the omega’s increasingly hostile and pissy behavior. Really, he didn’t have to be so annoying, even if he was merely jealous of just how much more competent Vasquez was at his job.

Today hadn’t been much different. Vasquez had spent the majority of the morning and early afternoon working on his own projects, approving documents and files the underlings on the rest of the floor had sent to him, compiling them into dossiers that he would send out to Henderson to peruse and give final say on before the end of the day. He was fairly confident in his work, hoping that the solid finish to the week would impress Henderson enough to tilt the promotion over into Vasquez’s favor. Unless Rhys was planning some kind of last minute surprise to bowl their boss over, he was pretty sure he had clinched it.

Finally got around to finishing this commission for @unitc223ofstrex !! Well, at least the first part, but the second part is coming up soon! 

Rhysquez, omegaverse, kind of enemies to lovers, though the lover bit comes more in the second part! Enjoy, dear~

Vasquez really wasn’t in the mood for work, today. Not that he really had much of an option. He wasn’t yet at the position where he could take a couple of days off of work and not risk losing his job to one of the other hundreds of sharks swimming around in the crowded pool that was the Hyperion corporate scale. He sighed, tapping his pinky against his temple, letting himself momentarily drift off into a familiar terrain of daydreams—himself sitting on a beach in one of the Edens, the water fantastic and clear, the sand soft and sparkling like a thousand diamonds, a drink in hand and maybe even a pretty young omega sunning himself in the chair next to him.

Ah, yes, now that would be a nice trip from the daily grind. Especially having a sweet little omega at his beck and call. Leggy and pale as the sand beneath his feet, sandy pretty hair and clear blue eyes. Oh, someone who was just Vasquez’s type, who would squirm and moan and bite his pretty little lips as he shaded Vasquez with his body and rode his cock right through the wicker sun chair and into the sand.

His eyes fluttered shut, a dreamy, sleazy smile on his face as he got lost in his fantasy, only to be rudely awakened by a pile of papers suddenly slamming onto his desk and startling him out of his daydream. He scowled as he nearly prodded himself in the eye with his own pinkie, glaring up at the young man who’d had interrupted him and stolen away this perfect pretty omega.

“You know, it’s inconsiderate to interrupt someone while they’re busy, Rhys.” Vasquez growled, staring up at the young man now standing before him, with that irritating, annoyed pout curled on his lips.

Busy? What are you busy with? You looked like you were just dozing off. If you want to go home, feel free, you can hand your job off to someone else who is actually, you know, interested in it.” Rhys rolled his eyes, both hands resting stubbornly on his hips.

“I was very busy, Rhys, busy with things that you couldn’t possibly understand.” Vasquez growled, spreading out the papers Rhys had delivered on his desk, scanning them over with a lazy eye.

“Right. Okay, sure. How about you ‘busy’ yourself with these documents instead? They were supposed to be approved by you yesterday, but you apparently couldn’t be bothered, so why don’t you finish them before our whole department gets in trouble, okay?”

Vasquez huffed, picking up one of the papers, glaring at Rhys over the top. He could have a sweet, quiet and subservient little omega on a beach in Eden 6 but instead he had to sit here and listen to Rhys chew him out. Forgetting a couple of approvals wasn’t really that big of a deal. It was probably just another attempt by Rhys to knock him down a few pegs. Well, that wasn’t going to work, not on his watch!

“I’ll take care of it, Rhys. Now, if there isn’t anything else, maybe you should head on back to your own office? Make sure our uh, department isn’t going to go down in flames, huh? ‘Cause clearly, you’re the only one keeping everything afloat.”

“Well, considering I keep having to pick up your slack, I would say that’s preeeeetty accurate. How you got this far up in Hyperion, I’ll never know.”

“It’s a little thing called charisma, Rhysie. You’ve got to dress the part.”

‘Dress the part? I dress the part, Vasquez. This is all bought straight from the latest Hyperion catalogue.” Rhys gestured to his outfit. Vasquez rolled his eyes and huffed.

Puh-leaaaaase, Rhys, that’s gotta be from last Fall’s issue at least. That waistcoat hasn’t been in style for months.”

“Waistcoats are always in style, Hugo. Just ask Handsome Jack.” Rhys hissed between his teeth, tapping the papers on Vasquez’s desk with an annoying rap.

“Just…get these done, okay? And sent off to Henderson by the end of the day, or all of our asses are going to be on the line.” The omega snapped, before turning on his heels away from Vasquez and storming out the office doors. Vasquez glared at him the entire time he was out, the alpha’s eyes boring into the back of the snooty young man’s head. Honestly, he didn’t know where Rhys got off talking to him like that. It was going to be quite the rude awakening as soon as Vasquez was promoted over him.

Oh yeah. It was only a matter of time.


Rhys was pissed.

His hands were shaking in his fists, fingers trembling against his palms as he nearly bit through his lip on the way to his office. He snatched a cup of water from the automated cooler, just barely downing the frigid liquid before his cybernetic fingers instinctively crushed it. He tossed it onto the floor in anger, knowing this wasn’t exactly helping his chances at the promotion, but hey, at least it intimidated the alphas that usually tried to flirt with him away back to their offices or the lunch room. Rhys scowled after their retreating backs, glaring hot holes into their cheap suits and waistcoats before he wrenched the door open to his own office and slammed it behind him, sending shuddering through the adjacent walls.

Rhys kicked at nothing out of frustration, nearly unbalancing himself before he pinwheeled his arms, lurching forward to catch himself on the edge of his desk. He hissed in anger, giving the side of his desk a sharp kick, before sliding over to his leather chair and sitting down with a furious thump. he crossed his arms over his chest as his pout deepened viciously, bobbing his crossed leg over the other.

“That….that idiot!” Rhys growled, feeling heat prickle up the back of his neck. He put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his desk. His body was tingling all over with anger, and his clothing suddenly started to feel too tight—

He shot up straight in his chair, nearly knocking it over as he scrambled for the drawer in the front of his desk and wrenching it open. He frantically licked his lips as he groped around for a rattling bottle, unscrewing the top with sweaty hands before tapping two small pink pills out into his palm and popping them into his mouth.

He took a sip from the lukewarm coffee still sitting in his Hyperion mug from earlier in the morning, grimacing as it helped work the dry pills down his throat. His fingers clenched on the handle of the mug, teeth gritted tightly as he fought back the heat prickling up in his body.

Nope. Not now.

He held his breath for what seemed like forever, muscles tight until he felt the angry warmth in his body start to ebb away. Rhys let out a tense sigh, tipping the open bottle towards himself, eyes scanning over the scant couple of pills left. He scowled, popping the top back on the bottle and sliding it back into his desk. He stared at the surface of the desk, rapping his cybernetic fingers in a incessant click click click until he could feel the prickling symptoms recede completely.

He knew he couldn’t stave this off forever. He was running low on his pills, and he knew the doctor wouldn’t give him any more, out of concern for his own health. He took another spiteful drink of his cold coffee.

Stupid omega health laws. It wasn’t fair. He only needed his heat to stave off for a little bit longer! Just to long enough to smear his promotion into Vasquez’s stupid, smug, alpha face, before heading home to fuck himself with a gold-plated dildo for a week or something. Hell, maybe he would even call in one of those fancy alpha services that provided models with perfectly chiseled abs and a nice, thick cock and knot ripped right from any omega’s wet dream. Hell, with the kind of money he was about to be making, he could probably buy himself a Handsome Jack look-a-like to fuck him silly through his heat.

Henderson had implied that his final decision about the promotion would come by the end of the week. All Rhys had to do was hold out until then, keep showing up Vasquez and doing his job until the new position was his.

Rhys drained his coffee cup, smirking at the watery dregs before settling back into his seat and folding his hands.

All he had to do now was to bide his time and pray his body wouldn’t screw this up for him.


Vasquez didn’t see much of Rhys over the next few days, which was a blessing as far as he was concerned. He didn’t need the overbearing omega haranguing him about whatever he had lodged up his ass that particular day, like he was the alpha’s wife. As far as Vasquez was concerned, less of Rhys was a blessing, and he enjoyed the undisturbed quiet he’d earned after dealing the the omega’s increasingly hostile and pissy behavior. Really, he didn’t have to be so annoying, even if he was merely jealous of just how much more competent Vasquez was at his job.

Today hadn’t been much different. Vasquez had spent the majority of the morning and early afternoon working on his own projects, approving documents and files the underlings on the rest of the floor had sent to him, compiling them into dossiers that he would send out to Henderson to peruse and give final say on before the end of the day. He was fairly confident in his work, hoping that the solid finish to the week would impress Henderson enough to tilt the promotion over into Vasquez’s favor. Unless Rhys was planning some kind of last minute surprise to bowl their boss over, he was pretty sure he had clinched it.

His stomach let out a loud rumble, starting him from his thoughts. He frowned, pressing a hand to his stomach as he shut off his tablet and rose to his feet. Considering he’d worked straight through lunch, he figured he owed himself a nice treat or two. Call it a bit of a premature celebration, but hell, he deserved it for all his hard work.

Moments later he was standing in the anemic break room, dumping a small container of caramel creamer into a plastic cup of coffee before taking a long sip. He hummed as the sweetness tingled on his tongue, lazily looking about the currently empty room. A couple of Hyperion motivational posters, including a nearly floor length one of Jack posed with a gun and an army of loaders decorated the otherwise sparse walls. The carpet below his designer shoes was worn and stamped down by the soles of dozens of employees.

He really was so much better than all this.

Vasquez was sorting through the limp danishes, trying to decide between raspberry and apricot and only barely caring about the dilemma, when suddenly a loud crunching metallic sound rang through the entire floor, sending shudders through the walls

Suddenly, Vasquez felt like he had been punched in the lungs. Breath was scarce, his heart suddenly pounding. He knocked his paper coffee cup over as his hand flailed about, grasping at his throat as he stumbled out of the break room, eyes casting about. He saw other employees racing around, hands similarly clasped to their throats or covering their mouths. Vasquez let out a hoarse cough, eyes watering as he seized one of the scrambling employees, using his rapidly draining air to bark out:

What happened?”

The answer was somewhat hard to get out of the employee, as they too were trying to salvage their remaining air, but they managed to get out a few words to the other man.

“L-Life support systems failing….f-for the whole floor…” He gasped, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish before he turned away, stumbling off and away in the direction the rest of the employees were scrambling towards.

Vasquez swore, making a run for the emergency exit, which he soon saw were swarming with armored guards, complete with masks and oxygen tanks. Vasquez brushed past them, not caring much about the fates of the rest of the floor employees who had perhaps been felled by the sudden loss of life support functions. He even shoved past a couple of betas to get into the sanctuary behind the air tight door. He was finally graced with proper oxygen, bending over and resting his hands on his knees as he took deep, grateful breaths, finally able to fill his lungs up. After a few moments he raised himself up, quickly flattening down the front of his suit, trying to pull himself together.

The door quickly snapped open and shut, the armored guards and medics from before flooding into the small space, some of them supporting the Hyperion workers that had passed out or grown weak from the loss of oxygen and had been rendered unable to move into the secured area themselves. Two medics brought up the rear of the entourage, a metal and rayon stretcher floating between them. Vasquez curled his lip at the sight of a limp wrist hanging over the edge of the stretcher, and shook his head. Poor, slow bastard. He sure was grateful he’d gotten out in time, with only a slightly scratchy throat and fuzzy brain.

The medics and their charges fanned out and settled down, steadily taking care of any injuries or deprivations while Vasquez took a chance at showing off his leadership, hoping that keeping a level head in the aftermath of such a crisis would eventually get word back to Henderson. He hummed and nodded and lightly questioned the medics and patients clustered in little groups around the room as he further straightened out his outfit, trying to cement his wits about him and appear as the calm, collected leader that his department clearly needed in this time of chaos.

Vasquez was busy combing his askew hair back into place, when he accidentally cast a look towards the stretcher and nearly ripped his implants out of his skull.

That limp, pale hand that he had seen hanging over the edge of the stretcher? It was the same that had angrily handed him papers day after day, or tapped indignantly against his desk, or twitched when Vasquez slipped another insult his way.

It was Rhys.

The omega was lying stock-still save for the very, very slight rise and fall of his chest. His eyes were half-lidded, but even with that Vasquez could tell that Rhys’ eyes were dull, his ECHOeye inactive and unlit. His normally well-coiffed hair had been knocked out of its gel, messy and matted with blood clumped just above his temple. His skin was pale, so pale Vasquez could see the spindly little veins through it on the spaces that weren’t marred with bruises and scrapes. The front of his teal shirt was torn in places, and through the tears he could see blood pooling up and staining the fabric.

Vasquez felt his stomach churn, a sudden and certainly unexpected claw of fear rising up inside of him as he took in the young omega’s state.

“What….what the hell happened to him?” Vasquez growled, narrowing his eyes at the medics attending to Rhys as he pointed at his prone body. “None of the others have injuries like his.”

“Well…It looks like there was some kind of dysfunction in the life support systems in this man’s office.” Came the muffled, staticky voice of one of the masked medics as he withdrew an Anshin syringe the white bag slung over his shoulder, flicking the dip before injecting it into the side of Rhys’ neck and depressing the plunger. Vasquez watched, oddly fixed on the way the red liquid drained into Rhys’ flesh, before returning his attention to the medic.

“And?”

“That’s where the source of the issue was. Looks as if there was some kind of explosion there, which explains his shrapnel injuries.” The medic withdrew the syringe from Rhys’ neck, sealing the used needle away into a waste container and gingerly returning it to his bag.

“Once the floor has been re-stabilized, we can go back in and see exactly what happened. Until then, we’re going to get this one sent off to the hospital to see if there’s any lasting damage.” The medic quipped before waving a couple of instructions to the guards and personnel, pushing Rhys’ stretcher through the muddled crowd and towards the exit on the opposite side of the room.

Vasquez stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, eyes flickering between the huddled employees and the retreating stretcher, before he swore softly to himself and followed after the medics.


It should have been the best day of Vasquez’s life.

Some act of God had decided to shine on him, ripping Rhys out of contention for the promotion they had both been gunning for for so long. Laid up in the hospital, there was no way that Rhys would be able to contest him for it. His work would pile up, and even in the extremely unlikely event that some Good Samaritan would pick up the slack and help him out, there was no way that he would be able to keep pace with Vasquez when it came to currying the favor of the higher-ups for the position.

He should be out partying at the fanciest restaurant in Helios, flushed with success and the salary raise that he was now surely about to receive. He should be picking up a cute omega waiter, or even calling himself an escort from the most high-class service on the space station and spending the entire night fucking his cute little brains out. He should be swimming in fancy steaks and wine and plump omega ass.

So why was he, instead, sitting in the waiting room for one of the many medical facilities on Helios, waiting on the doctor who was currently operating on his most hated nemesis?

Vasquez gritted his teeth, eyebrows furrowed together as he mulled this over in his head. All logic told him that he should get up and leave right now, get back to the fantasies that had been clouding his head for months now. Fantasies that he could now very reasonably make into reality if only he could get off the chair that he was, inexplicably, stuck to.

Rhys most likely wouldn’t have hung around outside the operating room if Vasquez was ever in any danger. Rhys would probably be out partying with some dirtbag alphas, getting his slutty little ass fucked before blowing money on some new socks, or maybe a proper tie instead of that clipped on monstrosity. Yep. That’s what Rhys would be doing if he were in dire peril, so why was he bothering to hang around for the omega’s sake?

Vasquez shook his head, pinching his brow and letting out a tight sigh.

What was wrong with him?

The time passed slowly, leaving Vasquez alone with his troubling thoughts until the exhaustion and stress of the day finally started to pull on him. He slumped back against his seat, head tipped slightly to the side as he closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep and filling the waiting room with rumbling snores.

He woke with a start to a deep, but gentle voice, eyes snapping open as he jolted in his seat. He mumbled, rubbing his hands on his eyes and clearing his vision. A woman in a white coat and glasses gradually swam into place, the scent of a beta wafting gently into his nose.

“Ah, h-hello?”

“Are you waiting for Mr. Somerset? You came with the medics, is that right?” She asked sweetly, taking a cursory glance towards her clipboard.

“We’ve stabilized him, for now. He’s not awake yet, and he’s hooked up to a ventilator, but if you’d like to see him, I’ll allow you to visit.”

Vasquez bit his lip as he listened, worrying over the decision in his head. The ache in his body and his throat was telling him to go home, take a nap—Rhys most likely wasn’t in much danger if the doctor was acting this calmly. It would be fine if he just up and left now, maybe sent a bouquet of flowers or some chocolate or a sappy conciliatory card, or something.

No one would think anything of it if he just left it at that.

But instead he found himself rising from his seat in the waiting room and following after the doctor, down the steely hallways that smelled flush of sterility and distantly of blood, the breath tight in his lungs as she stopped in front of one of the doors, tapped a code into the keypad, and beckoned Vasquez into Rhys’ hospital room.

“Through the Heart” Ch. 2

“Consider this your thank you package, kiddo. Heh.” Jack snickered to himself as he turned back around to face them, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’m also doing you a favor with muscles over there. You’ve been dragging your feet ever since you saved him from that poison, and honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off. So I’m gonna be the one taking initiative here, and you’re welcome Handsome Jack sir for your amazing foresight and decision.”

“I, what—“

“Okay, so I’ll put it in plain English, numbskull. I’m going to fuck you, and so is your little buddy over there. Or you’re gonna fuck him, I don’t know which way you swing, but there’s no way Jack’s gonna get a dick up his ass, so like, work around that.” He twirled his fingers in emphasis.

Rhys was speechless, his usually pale face on fire with blush, so it was up to Vaughn to respond. The small man quickly wedged himself between Rhys and Jack, and though he looked upset, there was an encouraging bit of red on his cheekbones that made Jack waggle his eyebrows.

“H-hey, Jack, what’s the meaning of this? You can’t just….you can’t just invite us up here for business and say….and look….like that!” He finished kind of lamely, and oh Jack could tell that Vaughn was wavering. Rhys was already there, but his little friend just needed a little tip to fall fully over into “DTF” territory.

Another Jack/Rhys/Vaughn commission for @handsome-jackhammer ! This time featuring smut with Jack in a fresh new body via an alternate Tales ending.  Sequel to this fic. :3 Enjoy!

Having a body again was even sweeter than Jack ever imagined it being.

After being stuck in that wiener kiddo’s head for what seemed like forever, here he was, back in the flesh. He could touch. He could grab onto things. He could taste and eat, holy crap, one of the first things that Jack did when he finally had a body back was go to town on a rack of ribs with all the trimmings.

But, most importantly, he could have sex.

Realistically, it probably hadn’t been that long since he’d had sex, but whatever, he had cravings and there was only one way to settle them. Well—quite a few different ways, actually, with a whole mess of different positions and combinations of people and genitals and honestly, there was such an array of sexy things he could do with his new body that he honestly didn’t really know where to start. He’d jerked off in his chair quite a few times already as he cycled through various fantasies, trying to figure out which one he wanted to translate into reality first.

He was a little stuck on a decision until he remembered the adoring little fanboy and his tiny little butt-buddy who had brought him back to the height of his power. Jack knew that Rhys had a boner not only for him, but also for Vaughn, so why not kill two birds with one stone? Sate Jack’s sexual cravings while giving the obsessed little kid and his friend the time of their lives. Anything to get Rhys to stop simpering and sighing like a lovesick teenager over the little nerd.  

Some would call bedding your recently promoted co-CEO and his man-crush a conflict of interest, but Jack couldn’t be a perfect genius leader every second of his life. Men had needs and all that, y’know. What his shareholders didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them anyway.

So one day after work hours he’d contacted Rhys’ and told him to come up to his penthouse for a private meetings about exports or something or other, he really didn’t remember what he’d said aside from reminding Rhys to bring Vaughn along to help crunch the numbers. Rhys didn’t question it, even though Jack could hear the slight confusion in his voice. Whatever, didn’t matter, as soon as Jack got the two of them in the same intimate space then it would all be over. Once Jack had an idea in his head and people in his clutches, he didn’t plan on letting go of either.

Jack liked the way that Vaughn’s eyes widened and Rhys’ cheeks colored when he opened the door to his penthouse wearing nothing but bright yellow Hyperion-branded briefs that clung to every curve and bulge in his crotch. Vaughn looked just about ready to bolt, so Jack quickly shuffled the two of them into the penthouse, the doors clicking shut with a resounding metallic noise.

“Consider this your thank you package, kiddo. Heh.” Jack snickered to himself as he turned back around to face them, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’m also doing you a favor with muscles over there. You’ve been dragging your feet ever since you saved him from that poison, and honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off. So I’m gonna be the one taking initiative here, and you’re welcome Handsome Jack sir for your amazing foresight and decision.”

“I, what—“

“Okay, so I’ll put it in plain English, numbskull. I’m going to fuck you, and so is your little buddy over there. Or you’re gonna fuck him, I don’t know which way you swing, but there’s no way Jack’s gonna get a dick up his ass, so like, work around that.” He twirled his fingers in emphasis.

Rhys was speechless, his usually pale face on fire with blush, so it was up to Vaughn to respond. The small man quickly wedged himself between Rhys and Jack, and though he looked upset, there was an encouraging bit of red on his cheekbones that made Jack waggle his eyebrows.

“H-hey, Jack, what’s the meaning of this? You can’t just….you can’t just invite us up here for business and say….and look….like that!” He finished kind of lamely, and oh Jack could tell that Vaughn was wavering. Rhys was already there, but his little friend just needed a little tip to fall fully over into “DTF” territory.

So Jack just gave Rhys a sly wink and reached out, pushing against Vaughn’s—surprisingly solid—chest, shoving him back into Rhys. The taller man let out a gasp, instinctively wrapping his arms around his friend, and by the look in Vaughn’s eyes he had definitely felt the hard-on that Rhys had started to sport in his pants. The slight flush on Vaughn’s cheeks quickly spread, his lips parted slightly as he turned his head to look up at Rhys. Rhys’ face was beet red, but neither of them backed away.

Now he gets it.” Jack shook his head, walking forward until Vaughn was snugly pinned between him and Rhys, the smaller man’s rapid breaths ghosting over Jack’s bare chest. “I guess that’s your fault, cupcake, for making your first move when the guy was friggin’ unconscious.”

“W-When I was what?” Vaughn stammered, his voice clouded with embarrassment. Rhys shot Jack a pouty look as he rested his chin on the top of Vaughn’s head, letting out a small sigh.

“Vaughn, I….I didn’t want…I wanted to tell you sometime, just…” Rhys’ confession trembled on his lips as he buried them against Vaughn’s hair, brushing the barest kiss against his scalp.

“B-Bro….?” Rhys lifted his face as Vaughn turned around in his arms. Jack placed his hands on his hips, watching the cute little scene before him. God damn, though, they needed to get a move on it.

“Hurry up, kiddos, daddy doesn’t have all night.” Jack growled as he smacked Vaughn heavily on the ass, pushing him forward into Rhys’ lips. The two men let out muffled cries as their mouths met, Jack quickly pressing up behind Vaughn—which had the dual effect of making them keep their lips together and allow Jack to rub his crotch on Vaughn’s solid ass.

Things really got started from that point on. After a couple more blushing kisses and chaste hugs, Jack had grabbed the two men and yanked them in the direction of the bedroom with little protest. He’d hopped up on the bed, tucking his hands behind his head as he leaned against the headboard and watched the two men standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed.

“Well? Go on, babes, put on a nice show for me. Don’t be afraid to feel each other up a little bit too. Rhysie, I know you’ve been wanting to touch those sweet abs for a long time already. I mean, we used to share the same brain after all.” Jack teased with a wink.

“Jack, don’t!” Rhys rubbed his cybernetic wrist shyly, only for Vaughn to step into his personal space, hands going to Rhys’ tie and carefully undoing it as he leaned up and kissed him on the chin. Rhys’ attention was drawn away from the man on the bed to Vaughn, quickly meeting his lips. Rhys let out a quiet moan as his arms came up to wrap around Vaughn’s shoulders, one of his long legs even managing to curl around the shorter man’s hips. Jack watched with a giddy expression, finding it amusing that Rhys’ gangly body was wrapping around the short, solid little nugget that was Vaughn. So Rhys was a bit of the submissive type, okay with letting someone else take the lead? Well, Jack could enjoy that. And Vaughn appeared to be enjoying it as well, as evidenced by the way his arms went to wrap around Rhys’ hips and actually lifting the taller man up and off his feet, swaying solidly in place even as Rhys yelped and instinctively wrapped both thighs around his friend’s waist.

“Holy shit, muscles, you can hold that string bean like its nothing!” Jack laughed from the head of the bed. Vaughn flushed at the comment, fumbling his grip on Rhys as he turned to look at his boss.  

“Y-yeah, well uh…” Vaughn trailed off as Rhys’ fingers started to run through the hair at the back of his neck. He visibly shuddered when Rhys kissed his forehead, peppering his lips all over his face and drawing Vaughn’s attention back. Jack watched with a smirk as the two continued making out, deepening their kisses and drawing soft moans out of one another.  

Jack slid his hand down his stomach, feeling up his own muscles and tickling over his happy trail before sliding his fingers below the waistband of his yellow briefs. He purred in arousal as he lifted his ass, sliding the material down over his hips until it clung to his thighs. His cock bobbed up heavy and hard in the air as he squeezed at the shaft, precum bubbling at the tip and dripping down the head.

He couldn’t see much from where he was, but what he did see went straight to his dick as he slowly stroked it. Vaughn was kissing Rhys’ harder, before pulling back with his lower lip caught between his teeth. God damn, the kid really was a tiger when he let loose, huh? Drawing all kinds of mewls and whines from Rhys as his mouth went to Rhys’ neck, sucking and biting against his throat as Rhys’ thighs clenched tighter around his waist.

Eventually, however, Jack wasn’t content with just watching and jerking himself off, so he shimmied free of his briefs, tossing them over to smack against the top of Vaughn’s head. He jolted up and away from Rhys’ neck, fixing Jack with a slightly annoyed look that he quickly corrected as soon as he remembered who else he was in bed with.

“Ah um…Jack sir, what…?” Vaughn replied dazedly, clearly distracted by how Rhys was still whining and writhing beneath him. Jack leveled him with a lusty stare, pushing himself up on his knees and leaning over to the nightstand to quickly toss a bottle over to Vaughn, who caught it with only a slight fumble. Jack snickered as he crawled back over to the two entwined men. He crouched right by Rhys’ head, thighs flanking his temples as his cock bobbed just above the young man’s face. His pre-cum dripped down against Rhys’ mouth, making him moan and lick his lips. He rubbed one hand against Rhys’ shoulder while he cupped Vaughn’s face with the other, tipping his chin up until his eyes met with Jack’s. He stroked his thumb over Vaughn’s cheek, before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

Vaughn was a bit of a stilted kisser, which surprised Jack considering he had been so forward with Rhys once they’d gotten going, but it was nothing that his quick tongue and teeth couldn’t fix. He left Vaughn’s lips red and bitten as he pulled away, patting the hand that held the tube of lube and pointing down to where Rhys’ legs were still locked around his hips.

“Hop to it, glasses, get him all nice and ready. You know how to do that, right, or do I need to show ya?” Jack waggled his eyebrows. Vaughn nodded eagerly, and part of Jack wondered if Vaughn had wanted to do this for as long as Rhys had, or maybe even longer, but he bit his tongue for now. He was eager to get to the main act, get these two fucking so he could get his own dick wet sooner rather than later.

Though—as Vaughn moved his hands down between Rhys’ legs, giving Jack more space, he figured he could get a jump on it considering how Rhys was lapping at the precum that had dripped onto his lips. A tiny moan left the young man as Vaughn slathered up his fingers and began to stroke against Rhys’ shaft, and crap that just made him even more irresistible.

So Jack grasped the base of his cock in hand, tipping Rhys’ chin back and pressing the head of his dick against his lips. The first shy little lick against the head of his cock was friggin’ transcendent, awakening long-missed sensations that rocked Jack’s body to the core. Oh wow. He had really missed this. Thrumming with enthusiasm, Jack spread his legs and sank further down, his cock steadily pushing through Rhys’ lips. The position didn’t really allow for proper deep-throating, but to Jack’s fresh new body, even the tiniest sensation made his cock twitch and skin tingle. They could always work their way up to that, anyway. Considering how well things we’re going so far, Jack figured they could get a couple rounds done today before the two kiddos were tuckered out.

Rhys let out a loud whimper and tightened his lips around Jack’s cock, involuntarily flexing his tongue against the shaft as Vaughn straddled Rhys’ hips, fisting his slicked up cock while his other hand went behind himself to prod between his own cheeks. Jack watched with hooded eyes, witnessing the way Vaughn’s face flickered in concentration and pleasure  as he started opening himself up for Rhys.

“Damn, sweetheart, you really know what you’re doing, don’t ya?”

“I-I, no I….well….I’ve seen a lot of videos…”

“Heh, you’re a dirty thing, huh muscles? I wonder if Rhysie knew that at all. Did he ever accidentally catch you spanking your bacon around?” Jack teased as he dipped his cock in and out of Rhys’ wet and willing mouth. Vaughn spluttered, unsure how to respond as he stalled his fingers inside of himself.

“Hey, don’t stop kiddo, daddy gets to fuck him once you’re done and I’m not super patient.” Jack shook his head. “Don’t be so nervous, I can tell ya from firsthand experience that this kid friggin’ adores you. He’s got a whole file about your abs, cupcake.” Rhys’ eyes widened and he let out a protesting noise, but it was quickly stifled by Jack’s cock as he sank down further into Rhys’ mouth, the head of his cock brushing the back of his throat.

Vaughn pulled his fingers out, shakily bracing his hands against Rhys’ chest as he moved his ass over Rhys’ cock, working the head inside of his loosened hole. Jack growled in pleasure as he stilled his dick in Rhys’ mouth, taking a moment to just watch as Vaughn lowered himself onto Rhys’ length, the muscles in his stomach twitching as he took it all in. Rhys hollowed his cheeks around Jack’s cock in response, his tongue undulating against the man’s shaft as his own cock was sheathed in the warm body of his best friend.  

Vaughn was really starting to grow on Jack, and he couldn’t really blame the smell of sex in the air and the shared interest in Rhys. Jack had to admit, even when he had been holed up in Rhys’ brain, he had kind of been able to understand the kid’s feelings for Vaughn. Though now he wasn’t sure if his and Rhys’ thoughts hadn’t just been interfacing with each other, but still, the guy had had some sweet abs and kind of an earnest, diamond in the rough style attraction buried under all that awkward bookishness that even Jack had been able to admire albeit just in a passing interest.

In any case, whether it was the brutal stint down in Pandora, or the fact that Jack had a flesh and blood body, he could now fully appreciate why exactly Rhys had been attracted to his buddy in the first place. Those abs were pretty sweet and well sculpted, and the musculature extended down into surprisingly stout and powerful thighs covered in a light, curly dusting of hair near the crotch. He looked a little better, too, when his face was less consumed with nervousness and more confident and relaxed in arousal. The little bit of hair that was falling out of place against his forehead was a nice touch.

Jack had to admit that Vaughn had a pretty nice cock too. Nothing to write home about, sure, but it was decently thick at the base and sized well enough. It got Jack’s “OK” seal of approval. It bobbed nicely against his stomach as he started to ride Rhys in earnest, Vaughn’s ass rising and sinking up and down along the his slender length.

As warm and wet as Rhys’ mouth was, Jack was eager to sink himself inside of the kid’s ass proper. So he raised himself up fully on his knees, his cock pulling out of Rhys’ mouth and dragging precum and saliva across the young man’s cheek. Rhys coughed a little at the sudden absence, voice weak with arousal as he looked up at Jack with wet eyes. Jack snickered, giving Rhys’ a swift pat on the cheek.

“Oh, don’t you worry, cupcake, we’re gonna drive you wild.”

Jack crawled off the bed, shuffling with his cock at full mast over to the foot of the bed, where Rhys’ calves were hanging off the edge.

He grabbed at the discarded, half-used bottle of lube resting against the sheets, smearing its contents all over his hand before quickly scissoring his fingers into Rhys’ hole as Vaughn rocked his hips down against his cock. His dick was already slicked up with Rhys’ saliva, so as soon as he’d hurriedly prepared the young man, he could just slid right in, pushing inch by inch inside until his balls were flush up against Rhys ass and his chest pressed up against Vaughn’s back.

It was a little awkward to set up a proper rhythm—totally based on the fact that he was fucking someone who was getting his cock ridden, and not because he was a little rusty on the whole sex thing, thank you very much—but Jack more or less solved it by pressing Vaughn forward until he braced his hands on either side of Rhys’ head. This way, Jack could lift Rhys’ hips higher off of the bed and fuck into the young man at a better angle while Vaughn rutted mindlessly up and down on Rhys’ cock.

“Yeah, oh yeah, oh damn, I’ve really missed this….friggin’ bless you kiddos, ah—“ Jack rambled as he thrust his hips forward and back into Rhys’ feeling his balls already start to tighten. He pushed aside his ego for a moment—he could work on his endurance later, there’d been a lot of build up already and hey, he was fresh out of the starter gate, it would make sense that he might have to work his way back up to his former glory—and focused primarily on chasing his arousal. Arms wound around Vaughn’s waist as Jack absently tongued and sucked against the quivering muscles in the man’s back, his hand grasping at Vaughn’s cock and tried stroking him off in time with his own hips. Like hell he was going to be coming first.

Luckily, he didn’t even have to worry about it, as Rhys was the first to shudder and let out a strangled shout, his hips gradually slowing to a halt even as Vaughn pushed down on his softening cock and Rhys’ ass rocked with the force of Jack’s thrusts. Jack squeezed Vaughn’s cock as Rhys clenched down around him, feeling the splash of his cum against his palm only moments before his own arousal knocked him over like a bowling ball.

“Ooooh, boys, daddy’s really friggin’ pleased with that…” Jack growled happily, nuzzling against Vaughn’s spine before giving Rhys’ quivering thigh a small pat. He yanked himself out from inside of Rhys, liking how prettily his cum trailed over the charcoal sheets of his bed. Mmm, that was a sight he’d missed. Same with curled up, thoroughly fucked out bodies snuggling into each other in his bed. Rhys cuddled into Vaughn like he was a teddy bear, again somehow wrapping his entire lanky form around the other man’s stouter body as he pulled Vaughn’s face into his neck. A soft, alluring twinkle in Rhys’ eyes invited Jack to quickly spoon up besides him, the CEO settling in with his arm resting over the forms of his two bedmates.

And even though Jack wouldn’t admit it out loud, he almost enjoyed the cuddling in his new body better than the sex.

“Full of Surprises”

“Jack, help me please, please!” Rhys pleaded, heart hammering in his throat as he felt the tendrils snake up to his hips before dipping underneath his waistband. Rhys’ eyes widened as he could feel the flesh of the creature’s appendages against his bare skin—it was warmer than expected, pulsating softly underneath the organic hide as it curled around one of his plump asscheeks. Rhys’ face brightened with red, eyes widening as the creature’s tendrils squeezed and pulsed around his rear, leaving a slick trail as fluid began to leak from the tip.

“A-Ah, no!” Rhys jerked his hips forward, trying to get away from the creature’s appendages, but he was bound far too tightly to do much of anything else other than wiggle pathetically.

10$ commission for @eridianlights, who wanted Rhys being fucked and getting eggs laid in him by some plant creature that Jack brought up from Pandora. Thank you so much for enabling me to write more sin, haha. 

Xenophilia, tentacles, voyeurism, oviposition, dubcon….all that stuff yanno

In retrospect, Rhys probably should have been suspicious.

Jack had told him that he had a surprise for him down in the R&D department. And as Rhys had quickly learned, any “surprises” related to the R&D department never ended well for at least open person, if not more. Rhys had wrinkled his nose at enough bloodstained corpses and mangled animal parts during the occasional visits that he had to make to the department. After a weird plant covered in pulsing blue blisters had exploded all over his brand new tie the last time he had been there, Rhys wasn’t exactly keen on going back, but he had gone with Jack down there anyways.  

Rhys found himself walking down a hallway lit by an unusually warm yellow light, heels clipping against the steel floor as he wondered what exactly was “just at the end of the hallway, c’mon pick up the pace Rhysie” as Jack had put it. Every once and awhile the young man had shot a glance behind him, only to see Jack raising his eyebrow, tilting his chin in question until Rhys turned around with a shrug and a nervous chuckle.

He had an uneasy feeling about this.

Eventually, the hallway ended in an open space, the warm light ending at what looked like the dark, shrouded interior of some kind of enclosure. Rhys heart leapt in his chest a little bit, opening his mouth in concern to Jack, but the older man tsk-ed and waved him on, apparently not worried that one of R&D’s “projects” had escaped. Rhys raised an incredulous eyebrow, but Jack continued egging him on. The gun at Jack’s thigh reassured the young man someone—he knew how quick Jack would be the weapon if the situation called for it. He tried to push away his uneases as he stepped from the lighted hallway and out into the dark haze of the enclosure.

The interior was shrouded in a light blue mist, the ghosts of strange trees just barely visible. Rhys inhaled, the breath sharp and wet and cold as a wave of concern came over him.

Alarm bells should have started ringing in his head when Jack told Rhys to go walk ahead in front of him, but he’d still gone forward, tsk-ing at the way his skag-skin heels sunk into the slightly moist ground of the enclosure. There was a cool moisture in the air that made the young man shiver, the hair on the back of his neck standing up on end. Rhys frowned, turning his head to look back as he was quickly starting to sense this was a bad idea.

“Jack—“ Rhys started, expecting Jack to be right behind him, only for his eyes to widen in confusion. Jack was still standing back in the hallway leading out to the enclosure, arms folded with a smirk on his face. Rhys raised an eyebrow, wondering why exactly Jack had hung back, when the sudden sound of rustling and cracking twigs drew his attention back—just in time to see a massive, spindly silhouette launch out of the fog towards him.

Rhys caught a quick glimpse of it, and what he saw made his throat run dry with fear—at first it looked like a towering mass of vines, except it was moving, tendrils lashing against the floor of the enclosure, with a pair of jaws and bright orange eyes gleaming in the limited light as it rapidly crawled towards him.

“H-Holy shit!”

Rhys bolted, nearly tripping over his own feet as he scrambled back towards the lighted hallway where Jack stood, seemingly unconcerned about the fact that there was a plant-monster-thing hurtling after Rhys who probably would tear Jack limb from him as soon as it was done eating Rhys’ guts. Rhys gritted his teeth in anger, ready to give the man a piece of his mind as soon as they were safely away from this thing.

“You fucki—“ Rhys started when suddenly his forehead slammed into the air in front of him. Dazed, Rhys nearly fell over as he stumbled back with a whine of pain, hand pressed against his smarting skull. His legs wobbled, sight swimming as he tried to focus on Jack, realizing only too late what had happened before the monster was upon him.

He was slammed back against the glass wall dividing the enclosure from the entrance hallway as the monster’s bulk charged into him. Rhys let out a shout of terror as he was pinned, rustling tendrils squeezing around his ankles and holding him in place as a huge weight pressed his chest into the door. Rhys cried and struggled, eyes fluttering open as he bucked back against the creature, forehead pressed forward against the clear door.  

Jack’s face was mere inches from Rhys, separated only by the thick pane of glass between them. Rhys’ breath fogged up against the surface, warm condensation catching on the glass as he shook his head frantically, eyes begging Jack to help, to let him out, to blow the monster assaulting him to pieces. But Jack’s smirk was unchanging, his eyes glittering with interest as he watched Rhys struggle with the creature just on the other side of the door.

“Jack, hold it—ah—“ Rhys whimpered as he felt the tendrils of the creature snake up his legs, twisting over the tender flesh and holding his thighs apart. He trembled, trying to kick out against the appendages but they held him firmly against the glass, with even more weight pinning his thrashing wrists down as Rhys’ fingers scrabbled uselessly against the smooth surface.

“Jack, help me please, please!” Rhys pleaded, heart hammering in his throat as he felt the tendrils snake up to his hips before dipping underneath his waistband. Rhys’ eyes widened as he could feel the flesh of the creature’s appendages against his bare skin—it was warmer than expected, pulsating softly underneath the organic hide as it curled around one of his plump asscheeks. Rhys’ face brightened with red, eyes widening as the creature’s tendrils squeezed and pulsed around his rear, leaving a slick trail as fluid began to leak from the tip.

“A-Ah, no!” Rhys jerked his hips forward, trying to get away from the creature’s appendages, but he was bound far too tightly to do much of anything else other than wiggle pathetically.

He felt a tendril wrap loosely around his neck, and before he could cry out properly the tip of it snaked between his teeth and dove towards the back of his throat. Rhys choked and reared his head back, futilely trying to get away. He nearly vomited when the tendril pushed further into his mouth and down his throat, the muscles in his neck spasming as it settled there, twitching softly. Rhys whimpered, struggling to breath through his nose against his panic as the tendril swelled in his mouth and down into his throat before a gush of fluid rushed down his esophagus and into his stomach

“Mmmph, mmm!” Rhys protested, teeth digging into the elastic skin of the creature as he felt more of the warm liquid spurt down into his stomach, settling weighty inside of him. It made his middle tingle, a feeling that slowly started to spread over Rhys’ entire form. He could feel his body starting to slow in its struggle as he was pumped with more of the fluid, his mind growing a little fuzzier with each dulling second.

The tentacle in his mouth was still draining liquid down his throat when the slick tendril between his asscheeks started to poke and prod at his hole, sending a jolt of sensation through the young man’s body. Rhys moaned out, writhing weakly as the blunt head of the tendril slowly started to push inside of him, parting his tight muscles around its thick girth.

Rhys vision was blurring with tears of confused panic and pleasure as the appendage thrusted deep inside of him, deeper than any cock or toy had ever been pushed. He whimpered pathetically around the tentacle in his mouth, ass squeezing like a vice around the girth that was starting to press against the sensitive, slick parts of his insides. To his horror, he found himself humping backwards, clenching his cheeks around the tendril as he tried to pleasure himself through the otherwise disquieting and uncomfortable reality of the situation. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants, gradually growing hard as the tendril swelled and pulsed against his insides and making him rock his hips mindlessly.

And just as Rhys thought that he could deal with this, deal with the strangeness of being fucked by the weird plant monster thing, he felt something firmer swell at the part of the tendril right near his ass, starting to press inside of him. Rhys’ eyes widened, teeth and throat clenching around the tentacle still thrust into his mouth as the mass stretched out his already tender hole, before popping inside and being pushed up by the tendril into his core, settling heavily into his stomach.

Not long after the first object had been passed into his body, more and more of them began coming, pressing into Rhys one after another with little time for the man to recover. Rhys groaned into the tendril shoved into his mouth as he felt the pressure inside of his gut building, feeling a gradual fullness in his stomach that quickly passed into uncomfortable. And yet his cock was still hard in his pants, painting a wet spot in the fabric as the—eggs?— squeezed past his prostate, arousing him despite his anxiety at being filled with weird alien offspring.

Breath heaved out of Rhys’ noses, breath strained and found in his ears as he struggled to take in air. Overwhelmed tears streamed down Rhys’ face, his forehead pressed against the fogging glass as his eyelids fluttered, wondering if he could plead with Jack to save him because this was too much, far too much. There was too much pleasure and pain and it was all confusing, all too much roiling inside of him and he couldn’t take it. He found himself looking down at the floor of the hallway just on the other side of the glass door, sight traveling upwards from Jack’s shoes, only to stop at the man’s crotch as Rhys’ eyes widened in shock.

Jack was jerking himself off.

Rhys’ eyes flicked up to Jack’s face, where the smug grin had curled into a lusty smirk, eyes half hooded and observing the debauched sight of Rhys pressed against the glass. Rhys would have been furious, if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with panic and and the thrumming edges of pleasure. Still, he felt an edge of humiliation rise up in him, his cheeks burning as Jack stroked his cock off to the sight of his PA being violated and filled with eggs on the other side of the glass door.

Rhys could feel his stomach starting to swell underneath his clothes, puffing up as more and more eggs were pumped into him by the creature. He was starting to feel unbearably full, his stomach roiling with both the lubricant and the eggs. His belt was cutting into the tender flesh of his middle, his hands bound and unable to loosen it as it strained against his growing middle. His fingers twitched and clenched against the door, sweat from his desperate palms warming the glass. He’d lost track of how many eggs had been forced up inside of him, but he could see the teal fabric covering his stomach billowing out below him. Rhys squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look either his expanding belly or Jack’s face—at least, until a rapid knock on the glass door snapped his attention back to Jack, who grinned like a maniac and gave him a mocking wave.

Bastard.

Soon his swollen stomach started to press into the cool surface of the glass, Rhys feeling his shirt strain against his expanding flesh as he was filled with more and more eggs. He whined in discomfort and tried to splay his thighs as pressure mounted on his hips. Rhys wondering distantly if the monster was just going to keep going until something tore, if Jack would cum to the sight of Rhys’ stomach bursting into a violent shower of guts and eggs.

Mercifully, however, Rhys felt the pace of the eggs pressing into him start to slow down, and the young man let out a wet sob of relief when the tendril finally withdrew from his throat, the other soon leaving his ass dripping with fluid as the creature let out a rustling hiss.

Rhys sobbed, tears and saliva smearing against the glass as he rested against it, his legs trembling and barely able to keep him up as the monster’s tentacles pulled away from his body completely, the creature retreated back into the mists of its enclosure. Rhys hiccuped, knees buckling as he put all his weight against the door, only for the glass panes to suddenly part, causing Rhys to tumble forward right into Jack’s waiting arms.

The door snapped shut behind them, sealing the two men off from the enclosure as Jack supported Rhys’ weight in his arms, sitting the trembling young man against the wall and swiftly undoing the straining buttons on Rhys’ shirt and unbuckling his belt. The young man whimpered in embarrassment as his round, egg-swollen belly was revealed, the pale flesh bloated with light pink stretch marks. A small moan left his lips when Jack’s hand pressed over his stomach, making the eggs inside of him squeeze together. Rhys cock twitched in response even as he shook his head.

“D-Don’t…”

Rhys vision was hazy and unfocused, but even he couldn’t miss the fact that Jack’s cock was still out of his pants, still bright red and rock hard as the man took it in his other broad hand, smearing bubbling cum over the head with his thumb.

“Hooooh baby, gonna get you down to the lab boys so they can take a look at those suckers but….” Jack chuckled, parting Rhys’ thighs as he greedily drunk in the sight, “first, daddy’s gonna have some fun with you.”

“Through the Heart”

“Jack, how many times have I told you don’t….don’t sneak up on me.” Rhys hopped away from the hologram, trying to put a little bit of space between the two of them, but Jack merely floated up closer

“And how many times have I told you that you need to be a little bit better about trusting me and letting me into your systems, huh? Someone still hasn’t learned his lesson.” Jack shook his head, floating through Rhys to stand next to Vaughn’s bed, so close that his digital form starting to clip a little through the railing. He took a long, hard look at the young man in the bed, sighing over-dramatically.

“I tried to help you, kid, but you just had to go it alone, huh. And now your buddy is all…wait, hold on, lemme show ya.”

Jack disappeared for a quick moment, before his head reappearing in the space in the bed next to Vaughn, making a couple of grotesque faces intending to mock the man. Jack bugged out his eyes and stuck his tongue out, convulsing before pretending to “die,” much to Rhys’ displeasure.

“And then he was all like, ahhhh oh no, I’ve been stabbed by some hundred year old broad, oh, come save me Rhysie, my prince—“

“Jack, will you stop it?” Rhys growled, clenching his fists. “This isn’t funny.” He looked away with a frown, only for Jack to appear in front of him, grinning like a wolf.

$25 commission for @handsome-jackhammer, who wanted Jack/Vaughn/Rhys stemming from the scene where Vallory stabs Vaughn in one of the play through options. Thanks so much for your patronage!

Breath was ragged in Rhys throat, struggling against his pounding heart and throbbing head. His teeth were gritted tightly, anger and worry coursing through him at the current predicament of him and his friends. They had been so close, so close to getting out of here, out of the clutches of Vallory and her men and back on their way on the road to the vault, but here he was, pinned down against the snowy ground outside of the Atlas bio-dome, watching with terror as the scene unfolded before his eyes.

Fiona had tried to defy the woman, but in retaliation she had grabbed Vaughn by a thin wrist and yanked the young accountant over, taking advantage of his disorientation by stabbing a thick, warped looking knife through the man’s ribs.

Rhys’ eyes had widened in horror as he shouted his bro’s name, struggling against the man holding him. Fiona and Vallory were shouting at each other, and before Rhys knew it Vallory was twisting the knife into Vaughn’s body, and the man’s groan turned into a scream of pain as Vallory shoved him to the ground, the chunky handle of the knife still embedded into his body. Vaughn’s screams and moans of pain were so loud that they echoed over the snowy, craggy hills surrounding the bio-dome, reverberating back into Rhys’ ears and making the young man’s blood tremble as he struggled and managed to wrench away from the men restraining him.

In hindsight, Rhys realized that it was a stupid move to race forward, that Vallory’s goons would have probably just shot him in the head for moving a muscle. But he managed to get to Vaughn’s side without his brains and blood being splattered all over the snow, sinking before Vaughn’s cringing and moaning face with his hands dangling uselessly above him, not sure where or how he should touch his best bro. He wondered if he should try to yank out the knife or leave it in him, Vaughn’s reddening and contorting face making Rhys panic because shit, shit, this did not look good.

“V-Vaughn! Come on, bro, hold on! Don’t do this!” Rhys begged, resisting the panicked urge to shake his best friend by the shoulders in his own terror. He tried activating his ECHOeye to see if it had any information on how to help his friend, but suddenly the light emanating from it flashed bright yellow as a spike of cool energy crackled through Rhys’ brain. The young man let out a sharp cry as his arm jerked, a clear sign that Jack was starting to try to take over him again, but why, why now, when he was already panicked and freaking out and trying to save his maybe-dying best friend.

“Come on, cupcake! You don’t know what the hell you’re doing!” Came the agitated, distorted snarl of Jack’s voice in the back of his brain, and Rhys cringed at the sound. Why the hell was Jack trying to take control of his arm? Was he trying to finish Vaughn off himself or something? Or make some kind of weird final stand against Vallory and her men?

“Wait, what are you doing? J—you, fucking—stop it!” Rhys snarled, grasping his wrist and trying to retake control of his arm, or at least stop Jack from hurting Vaughn even more. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus against Jack yelling at him, his eye glitching out between the normal bright blue and aberrant golden display.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?” Vallory rasped, thunking over to him with a scowl as Rhys wrestled with his arm. “You want to loose that pretty piece of tech of yours? Or would you rather join your friend on the fuckin’ floor?” A well-aimed kick sent Rhys back flat on his ass, his arm spasming a couple more times before falling flat against the snowy ground. Rhys’ head buzzed for a few moments, the sound of voices both inside and out swarming around him before his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

——

Rhys thought that Vallory and her goons could do a little better when it came to infirmaries, but he knew that if he tried to speak up to the battle-ax of a woman, he might get his head caved in. And if there was something he really didn’t need more of, it was brain trauma. It wouldn’t do him any good, anyway, to just be laid up in bed next to…well.

Rhys’ eyes fell to the figure lying prone on the bed before him, beige sheets drawn up to his waist, shirt stripped off and already torn off and used to bandage up the small man’s own chest. Rhys stuck out his lower lip as his eyes roved over his best friend’s still form. He also wasn’t happy about the man’s sweaty, dust-strewn clothing being used to bandage the still very fresh, very deep wound. August had told him that it didn’t matter much what Vaughn was wrapped up in, considering the healing balm they had slathered all over him, but still. Who knows what kind of fucked up Pandoran virus could have gotten inside of his bro, contributing to the fact that it had been a day or so and Vaughn still hadn’t woken up.

Maybe Vaughn was never going to wake up, came an errant thought into Rhys’ brain. He shook his head, mashing his palms against his face as he sighed. No. He didn’t want to think about that, to even entertain the idea. Vaughn had stuck by his side for so long, through late night college cram sessions, through applying and finally getting accepted to work at Hyperion, through scaling up the corporate ladder, through embezzling all that money and getting stranded on Pandora…there was no way that Rhys was going to give up on him now. No way. Not August or Vallory or anyone else could stop him.

Not even—

Heeeeeeey there, sweetheart.” Came the warbling, digitized voice right in his ear, causing Rhys to jump and yank his hands away from his face as the brilliant blue hologram came into blue. Jack’s face was only inches away from him, unnervingly doe-like eyes and mismatching arched eyebrows dominating the young man’s field of vision.

“Jack, how many times have I told you don’t….don’t sneak up on me.” Rhys hopped away from the hologram, trying to put a little bit of space between the two of them, but Jack merely floated up closer.

And how many times have I told you that you need to be a little bit better about trusting me and letting me into your systems, huh? Someone still hasn’t learned his lesson.” Jack shook his head, floating through Rhys to stand next to Vaughn’s bed, so close that his digital form starting to clip a little through the railing. He took a long, hard look at the young man in the bed, sighing over-dramatically.

“I tried to help you, kid, but you just had to go it alone, huh. And now your buddy is all…wait, hold on, lemme show ya.”

Jack disappeared for a quick moment, before his head reappearing in the space in the bed next to Vaughn, making a couple of grotesque faces intending to mock the man. Jack bugged out his eyes and stuck his tongue out, convulsing before pretending to “die,” much to Rhys’ displeasure.

“And then he was all like, ahhhh oh no, I’ve been stabbed by some hundred year old broad, oh, come save me Rhysie, my prince—“

“Jack, will you stop it?” Rhys growled, clenching his fists. “This isn’t funny.” He looked away with a frown, only for Jack to appear in front of him, grinning like a wolf.

“C’mon. S’a little fun. Lets see that smile, cupcake, come on.” Rhys frown only deepened in protest, crossing his arms and staring down the hologram.

“C’mooooooooon.” Jack reached out with two fingers, prodding at the sides of Rhys’ mouth. The man’s frown twitched, pulling away from the hologram’s tingly touch.

“Quit it!”

“What you getting all pissy at me for, pumpkin? This entire mess is your fault, after all.”

Rhys raised an incredulous eyebrow at Jack, mouth falling open.

My fault? What do you mean it’s my fault?” He pointed a finger at his chest. “I…I’m not the one who stabbed him!”

“If you’d only let me take control of your arm, then maybe I could have saved him. But I guess you really shat the bed on that one.”

“I…what do you mean?” Rhys’ eyes trailed back to Vaughn’s still body. Was…was something else wrong with him?

“I mean, that old broad didn’t just stab him, pumpkin. I saw it all while I was shacked up in your head, he looked bad and familiar. No way someone looks like he did after just getting stabbed in the side.”

“Um. I mean, I think getting stabbed would make anyone look pretty bad.” Jack placed his hands on his hips, lips curling as he shot Rhys a disbelieving look.

“Oh, okay, so we’re just going to trust the middle management wiener with the sparkly baton over like, I don’t know, Handsome Jack, bona-fide bandit killing hero when it comes to what’s-what in the world of murder? Get outta here, cupcake.”

“All right, then how about you actually tell me what’s going on?” Rhys crossed his arms. Jack tsked at Rhys’ insistence.

“Okay, okay. So, that big old broad who stabbed him had her blade all slicked up with a fancy Pandoran toxin. Bet she was keeping that ace up her sleeve just in case your lady friend mouthed off a little too much. I’ve seen it before—psychos use it, bandits use it, hell anyone with half a brain living down on this crapscape of a planet knows it and knows how to use it. Sure, there’s plenty of poisons on here that’ll kill you faster than you can blink, but this one here will draw it out, shut down the body slowly under the guise of ‘recovery.’ “ Jack related grimly.  

“So…she poisoned him?” Rhys’ eyes widened, turning around slowly as he looked over to Vaughn. Suddenly the man’s pale skin and unnatural stillness over the past few days made sense.

“Yep. Those guys you’ve shacked up with are bad news, cupcake. They know what they’re doing. They’re gonna keep that little buttbuddy squirt of yours laid up as ransom kind of deal.” One side of his body phased through Rhys’ as the hologram flitted over to the side of Vaughn’s bed. Jack waved his hand through the young man’s face, flicking idly at his nose and lips even though he couldn’t touch him.

“Suppose they must be planning to work quick, huh. Have you think Vaughn’s still alive and recovering until you’re up doing their dirty work. He’ll die just as soon as we set foot on Helios.”

“W-What?” Rhys felt his body go cold, gaping at the hologram and his pale, stone-still best friend.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I’ve seen that poison be used hundreds of times, kiddo. Even used it myself a couple of times, pretty funny when you promise someone their loved ones only to have ‘em convulse and die in their arms…anyway, yeah, if you leave ‘em alone like this they’ll just kind of waste away until there’s nothing left.”

“Y…You’re not serious.”

“As a chest wound, babe. But lucky you, Rhysie, you’ve got me up in your noggin, and I happen to know how  to make an antidote that’ll help your little friend see the light of day again.”

“You…you know how to save him? You’ll help me?” Rhys dared to sound a little bit hopeful as he addressed the hologram. Jack grinned at him, rubbing his hands together.

“You bet, cupcake. But you’re gonna have to start trusting me a liiiitle bit more now, princess. I mean, we were off to a pretty good start, what with you lettin’ me take over the Atlas drones and all. We’ve even saved the little guy together before, remember? When we blew off Wallethead’s arm? Oh man, that was a trip!” Jack grinned wolfishly, spreading his arms out. “Don’t forget, Rhysie, you and me can do some awesome things together.”

“I….I won’t…” Rhys swallowed. “I’m trusting you to help me save him again, okay?”

“Got it got it, babe, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll find a way to save good ol’ muscles over there. He’ll be back to normal, stuttering and staring at your ass when he thinks you’re not looking in no time.” Jack hovered his hand over Rhys’ shoulder, only clipping through his shoulder a little bit, having gotten used to interact with the flesh and blood Rhys as a hologram. It was a little thing, but it made Rhys’ heart flutter just a little bit.

Under Jack’s guidance, Rhys sought out the various components to the cure for the toxin coursing through Vaughn’s veins. Whenever he was sent out to gather things or arrange plans for their infiltration of Helios, Rhys managed to sneak away, Jack’s input into his eye helpfully tracking down what they needed while the AI simultaneously caused some mechanical distractions and hacks to draw the attention of their captors. Because of Rhys was knocked out of commission or purposefully kept away from Vaughn, there was no way that the young man was going to survive this. It was nail-bitingly close a few times, and Rhys almost got his hand bitten off by carnivorous plant whose pollen he had to steal, but within a couple of days Rhys had managed to collect everything while simultaneously working on Vallory’s planned excursion to Helios.

The cure that Jack had told him about worked in three stages, as the hologram’s projections into the ECHOeye had informed him as Rhys had gathered and combined the proper ingredients together.

The recovery wouldn’t be easy, Rhys could glean that much from Jack’s off-topic and oftentimes unnecessarily self-aggrandizing entries. It was almost like the cure needed to break down Vaughn’s body and then build it back up, healthy and good as new.

First, Vaughn would start to sweat as his body heat increased, feverish response gradually taking over. There wasn’t much to do to manage this stage other than wipe his brow and try to keep his body’s core temperature down.

Secondly, Vaughn would start to shiver and convulse slightly, eyelids fluttering and lips trembling as if suffering a minor seizure. He would drool and twitch—disconcerting and upsetting symptoms, to be sure, but still manageable. Rhys would have to be careful and make sure that his friend didn’t bite off his own tongue or anything like that.

The third phase was the worse of all. Vaughn would be plagued by a series of hallucinogenic, hideous nightmares as the cure beat back the toxin from his body, and Rhys would have to be the one to calm him down, as he was the only one with a physical body. And he would have to keep the man quiet, as to not alert Vallory or August or any of her other goons to what their plan was.

Rhys crushed up the cure in a small bowl placed next to Vaughn’s nightstand, grinding the gathered pieces of Pandoran flora and minerals with his fingers until it had dissolved into a bit of a soft paste. Rhys wrinkled up his nose as he caught a whiff of it. It smelled like decomposing, pungent vegetation, Rhys holding the bowl far away from his nose as he shot an apologetic look at Vaughn.

“What are you waiting for, are you gonna stuff it in a ball of cheese so he can’t taste it? Get on with it, cupcake.” Jack nagged by his side, Rhys shooting him a glare before he scooted over to Vaughn’s side, scraping up most of the pungent poultice in the bowl and pressing it into Vaughn’s mouth. He blushed a little bit at the feeling of Vaughn’s lips against his fingers, even if it were the ones on his cybernetic arm. He pushed the ball of medicine to the back of Vaughn’s mouth, carefully working Vaughn’s throat—thankfully, the man seemed to swallow it dutifully with minimal choking. Rhys watched with bated breath as the lump of medicine disappeared through Vaughn’s throat and down into his body.

Now…all he had to do was wait.

The sweating didn’t take long to start up. Rhys watched with increasing disquiet as it started to bead on Vaughn’s forehead and cheeks, droplets swelling in size before breaking and streaking down his friend’s increasingly reddening face. Rhys laced his fingers together, bobbing his heels boots up and down against the dusty wooden floor, worrying his lips as he fixed his eyes upon Vaughn’s form. Rhys swallowed roughly as the sweat starting to pool against the creases in Vaughn’s eyelids and forehead as his eyebrows unconsciously knit upwards in discomfort, finally pressing the dry rag against his friend’s skin. The heat starting to emanate from the man sent a wave of panic through Rhys heart as he switched the rag from his flesh hand to his cybernetic one so he wouldn’t have to feel it.

As much as he didn’t want to leave Vaughn’s side—especially as the sweating began to abate, only to signal the second stage—he did end up having to be summoned by Vallory to assist in some of her plans to get them back up to Helios. He did his best to not let on that he was doing anything untoward behind the woman’s back, giving her cursory, curt responses when she asked how Vaughn was. He caught the slight smirk on her lips when he said he was doing fine, a curl of anger rising up in the boy’s body that he tried doggedly to suppress. He had managed to convince Jack to stay and watch over his bro while Rhys was away, which the hologram had done with a lot of grumbling and grousing but he had done it at least, and that’s all that Rhys cared about.

Rhys had been standing about in the main room of Vallory’s hideout, trying to listen to the plans they were hatching even as his mind raced back to Vaughn and the cure working through his body. He kept his palms planted on his knees, feeling the sweat and nervous heat soaking into the fabric of his jeans, trying to use to tactile sensation to keep himself calm. He tried to prevent his mind from returning to thoughts of his friend, worries over whether Jack had actually given him a cure or just a cocktail of even more poisonous ingredients to fuck with him and kill his friend just for kicks.

But Jack had helped him so far, albeit in pretty unorthodox and somewhat dangerous ways, but still. As much as Jack got his rocks off on murder and fucking around with people, lying to Rhys and murdering Vaughn just didn’t seem to benefit him enough in the long run for Jack to actually go through with the whole process of actually doing it.

So Rhys sat there, fidgeting with the cybernetic fingers on his hand, trying to focus and listen to Vallory and August as they relayed the plans to their captives, when suddenly a piercing digital voice cracked in his head.

Oooh he’s getting bad now, pumpkin You might wanna think of an excuse to bounce this little party and head on back.” Came the spark of Jack’s voice, the hologram flickering briefly in front of Rhys, shaking his head and blocking his view of the rest of the meeting. Rhys started in his seat at the sudden appearance, snapping him out of his fugue and getting him a couple of weird glances from Fiona.

His brain is starting to race, and despite the urgency rushing through his body he just can’t think of an excuse, and if he suddenly gets up without explanation and starts stumbling off towards Vaughn’s room then he might as well be revealing his plan, so he manages to keep still, now not listening at all to Vallory’s speech until she thumps the butt of her gun against the wooden floor, indicating that she’s done with them for now. He waves off Fiona’s questioning glance, trying to keep his pace even and his back straight as he heads off back to Vaughn’s room, his posture finally crumbling in concern when he shuts the door behind him.

Jack is floating in the air, reclining back as if he were laying in an invisible hammock, rolling over onto his stomach and looking like a teenaged girl sitting on her bed as he drifts down next to Rhys as the young man approaches Vaughn’s bed.

Finally, kitten, I was starting to think you were ignoring me. Or that you just didn’t give a shit about muscles anymore.” Jack’s words were flippant, but his tone was unlike any that Rhys had heard from him before—he sounded serious, almost….concerned. Rhys shook his head—he didn’t have the time to analyze Jack’s feelings right now, because Vaughn was clearly shivering underneath the sheets. His eyelids were twitching, mouth moving unconsciously around soft sounds of discomfort. Rhys quickly sat at his friend’s side, grabbing for the rag from earlier to dab at the drool slowly starting to dribble from Vaughn’s twitching lips.

“How long has he been like this?” Rhys turned his head towards Jack. The hologram’s face flickered in thought.

“Hmmm….I dunno, maybe like an hour or so? You’ve still got a little bit of time before the third stage starts up, unless they hit him with even more toxin than I thought.” Jack crossed his arms, “resting” his the side of his head on his forearms, eyes flicking over Vaughn’s form with a weird look in his eyes. Rhys cocked his head.

“Jack…are you actually…worried about him?” Rhys ventured. The hologram’s gaze snapped back to Rhys, Jack letting out a dismissive snort before turning back to Vaughn.

“As if, sweetheart. The only thing I’m worried about is you going frikkin’ AWOL if your little buddy bites the big one. Considering how much of a bitch you are to the whole ‘friendship’ thing, you’ll probably turn into a gibbering idiot . And I’d rather be up in my big, awesome chair up in Helios rather than holed up in your brain as you wander around the desert drinkin’ your own piss.”

Rhys continued to stare at him, a small smile playing on his lips. Jack scowled, shooting him a look.

What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Rhys chuckled a little, shaking his head. The idea of Jack being invested in the wellbeing of anyone else, much less one of his middle management peons but….still. It gave Rhys just a little bit of comfort, knowing that some part deep inside of the AI, maybe slightly cared about saving Vaughn. Or maybe Rhys was just latching onto hints of things that weren’t really there.

Even if Jack really didn’t give a shit, it was nice to have at least another presence inside of the room to break up the anxiety as they waited for Vaughn to progress into the third and final stage of reaction to the treatment. Jack floated in the air next to where Rhys sat against the bed, “resting” and idly watching the man’s form as he twitched and seized, Rhys making soft hushing noises to Vaughn as he tried to calm him down and keep him still. After about another hour, it seemed like Vaughn’s body had started to calm down, and he returned to the still, almost death-like state he had been in before Rhys had given him the cure. Rhys was just wondering if it had even worked, or if the man had gotten lucky and bypassed the third stage, when suddenly Vaughn’s body seized up violently, his back arching off the bed as he let out a painful cry.

Rhys jolted forward, his arms finding his best friend arms and tried to hold them down as Vaughn tried to claw at himself, letting out terrified, gruff noises as he thrashed. Rhys put all of his weight down on his friend, trying to keep him still and quiet as he did his level best to struggle away from the man’s grasp.

Vaughn’s eyes were open but unseeing, glassy and whirling around the room, not recognizing Rhys at all. His pupils were tight, almost invisible in his irises as he ground his teeth together, terrified whines increasing in pitch until Rhys managed to shove the twisted rag into his mouth, stifling the noise out of fear of alerting Vallory or August to what was happening.

Vaughn’s struggling got more desperate and violent, his hips vaulting and his legs starting to kick against the sheets as Rhys tried to get on top of him, sitting on his stomach as Vaughn bucked and writhed around, his screeches muffled into the rag as he clawed and tried to get away from invisible foes. Rhys tried his best to hold him down, but Vaughn had a lot of muscle packed into his short body, and it was being used without restraint right now. Rhys felt his own body being tossed about as Vaughn thrashed and seized. Rhys’ eyes swung about desperately as he felt himself starting to lose his grip on his friend’s body, in serious danger of being bucked off and sent crashing to the floor. In his panic, his eyes fell upon Jack, who had righted himself and was watching the scene with raised brow and that same look of concern.

“I—I—Jack, please, Jack, I can’t do this alone!” Rhys begged as his friend growled and snarled and thrashed against him, Rhys quickly losing his grip even with the strength of his right arm. Suddenly, Jack’s hologram vanished and reappeared overlapped over the young man’s seated form. Rhys felt something cool and familiar wash over him, trickling down from the back of his head and his forehead, pooling into his spine before shooting to his shoulder and galvanizing his cybernetic arm in the blink of an eye.

His body jerked forward with the sudden movement of his arm, the metal palm shoving firmly at Vaughn’s shoulder as it held the man down against the bed with force even as he thrashed and groaned about. He can hear soft sounds of concentration coming from Jack as the man helps him in holding his friends down, their combined strength enough to keep Vaughn still as the man works through the throes of the final stage.

Rhys felt tears of fear starting to prick up in eyes but he blinked them away, holds Vaughn down with Jack’s help until the man stops, thrashing, stops squirming and breathing heavily and starts….starts…

Snoring.

Rhys blinked in surprise for a moment at the low, snuffly sounds suddenly coming from his bro, before a marveled, slightly-manic chuckle tears itself from the man’s throat. The fingers on Rhys’ flesh hand trembled slightly as he pulled away from his bro’s body, his shoulders falling in relief as tears pricked to his eyes, spilling down his face as he runs a palm over his mouth, looking down at Vaughn with relieved, wet eyes. The color slowly returned to Vaughn’s face, no longer that deathly pale that had haunted him ever since he had been stabbed by Vallory, the tiny muscles in his jaw and cheek now relaxed as he slept peacefully, as if nothing had even happened.

Rhys couldn’t resist reaching out to touch Vaughn’s face with his flesh hand, brushing the tips of his long fingers against the man’s cheeks, feeling the grateful warmth in his skin as it slowly returned, as the toxin was chased from his body. All the anxiety and tension and worry that had been coiling in Rhys chest for the past few days was slowly unwinding, fanning out into the rest of the man’s body until it dissipated, and all that was left was relief and naked affection.

“Now, that’s more like it, sweetheart.” Jack chuckled from besides him, running his digital finger up Rhys’ cheek, the cool firing of his nerves making his skin tingle in the phantom touch. “What’d I tell you? You trust ol’ Jack, and you can save all your little friends.”

Rhys tore his eyes away from Vaughn for a moment to stare at Jack, searching the hologram’s translucent face. There was a “thank you” that lingered on his lips, but he wasn’t sure whether he should say it, so he just leaned his head forward, resting his forehead against Jack’s. That familiar cool feeling washed over him, trickling down his spine and making Rhys’ shiver. He saw Jack’s eyes widen, and though he expected the hologram to say something, Jack remained silent until Rhys pulled away, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

Rhys couldn’t help himself, he wound up shakily laying himself down beside Vaughn, carefully adjusting the man into a more comfortable position. Rhys bit his lip and looked down at his friend before he gently laid his head against Vaughn’s shoulder, stretching his arm over his chest and holding him close. He could feel the even, breathy snores of his bro rising and falling, lifting Rhys’ hand as he played it protectively over the man’s chest.

Just as Rhys was starting to get comfortable, he felt something cool and tingling settle against his back and drape over his upper body. He gasped, turning his head a little to see the soft glow of Jack’s body as the hologram spooned up against him, floating just against the sheets of the bed.

Rhys’ lips worked dumbly, wondering if he should say anything, but Jack opened up one eye and shot Rhys a warning look.

“Don’t make this weird, cupcake.” Jack growled out, closing both of his eyes and resting his face at the nape of Rhys’ neck.  A soft smile spreading over Rhys’ face as he nodded, before returning to rest his hand over Vaughn’s chest, the gentle glow of the AI’s holographic arm coming to rest over Rhys’ waist.

“In An Instant”

As soon as he entered his car Jack sped off in the direction of his sons’ school, eyes desperately scanning the streets for signs of his mate’s car. He turned the corner into one of the main side streets, only to be greeted by the bright, flashing lights of emergency vehicles glowing in the late afternoon dusk. Jack felt his heart hammer in his chest, swearing in the silence of his car as he pulled towards the curb, barely remembering to put his car in park before he was out on the street, nearly sprinting towards the scene of the accident.

Any moment, Jack was expecting to see the bodies of his babies or his mate smeared across the pavement, bloodied and unrecognizable. Dread burned through the alpha’s body as he stalked through the bits of debris scattered about the street, every step a thick lump in his throat as he approached the armada of emergency vehicles surrounding the scene.

20$ commission for @takeawalkpigeon for alpha!Jack and omega!Rhys angst. Rhys gets into a car accident with their children and Jack deals with the aftermath. 

Rhys wasn’t picking up his phone.

It wasn’t exactly strange for the man to ignore Jack’s calls, especially if he were busy working or meeting with somebody. But Jack had been calling him periodically for the past hour and a half, and usually if Jack was being that persistent, then Rhys would at least send a text or something to ask the alpha what the hell he wanted. But Jack hadn’t received anything from Rhys, no texts, no voicemails, no answering calls, and it was starting to make the CEO antsy. Rhys had only told him today that he was going out to do errands and pick up the kids, nothing that would eat up this much time or make him unable to answer Jack’s calls.

Paranoid thoughts were racing through the alpha’s brain, redoubling each time Rhys’ phone went to voicemail. Jack was pretty sure he was going to start wearing away at the carpet with the way he was pacing when suddenly, one of the calls went through.

“Hello?” Came Rhys’ voice on the other side, sounding perfectly normal and not in distress. Jack felt relief sigh through him as he dragged his hand down his face.

Finally, pumpkin, god. You had me really worried for a second there.” Jack chuckled nervously to himself, shaking his head. Rhys was going to dig into him now for overreacting to the situation, bother him about taking those mood management courses that were really completely unnecessary.

Jack,” the alpha winced slightly at the tone of his mate’s voice. Bingo. “My phone died while I was out on my errands. I just plugged it in the car now after picking up the kids. You need to stop worrying so much.”

“Yeah yeah, I know kitten, thanks for the reminder.” Jack snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk. Despite his mate’s slight irritation, which Jack was probably going to have to pay for a bit later, the alpha felt eased by simply hearing the other man’s voice. Besides, Jack felt he could get away with a little bit of instinctual paranoia, even if he did go overboard at times. It wasn’t a crime to want to make sure the mother of your babies was doing all right.

“I’m serious, you’re going to get an ulcer or something if you keep worrying every time I set foot outside the house,” Rhys voice took on a slight teasing edge. “I know you want to be the big protective alpha daddy, but I can handle a little drive on my own.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart. Sue me.” Jack grumbled. Rhys let out a light chuckle at the other end, which couldn’t help but make Jack smile slightly.

“All right Jack, I’m going to hang up now, I really shouldn’t be on the phone wi—“ The softly admonishing tone in the omega’s voice was suddenly cut off with the single worst sound that Jack had ever heard. A loud screech of tires, followed by the sudden sound of crushing metal and lastly—the piercing, terrified sound of his mate screaming.

The alpha was frozen for a moment, his fingers numb around his phone. His brain couldn’t process what had happened for a moment, before his heart began to leap in his chest.

“Rhys?” Jack shouted, voice growing louder when he didn’t get a response. “Rhysie! Answer me!”

There was no reply. Jack scowled as he pulled the phone away from his ear, only to see that the call had ended. Fear clutched at his stomach, the echo of the crushing metal and his mate’s piercing cry ringing in his ear. He swore furiously, kicking at his desk before grabbing at his keys and rushing out of his office, nearly breaking the elevator buttons as he furiously punched at them.

As soon as he entered his car Jack sped off in the direction of his sons’ school, eyes desperately scanning the streets for signs of his mate’s car. He turned the corner into one of the main side streets, only to be greeted by the bright, flashing lights of emergency vehicles glowing in the late afternoon dusk. Jack felt his heart hammer in his chest, swearing in the silence of his car as he pulled towards the curb, barely remembering to put his car in park before he was out on the street, nearly sprinting towards the scene of the accident.

Any moment, Jack was expecting to see the bodies of his babies or his mate smeared across the pavement, bloodied and unrecognizable. Dread burned through the alpha’s body as he stalked through the bits of debris scattered about the street, every step a thick lump in his throat as he approached the armada of emergency vehicles surrounding the scene.

As he rounded the ambulance, emergency workers parting as he roared at them and as they realized just exactly who he was, he heard a scream of dad coming from the open doors of the vehicle. He whirled about, eyes wide as he saw Cyrus and Jaxen sitting on a stretcher next to the ambulance, being treated by a couple of EMTs. Jack was at their side in seconds, taking in the sight of his two boys—a couple of bruises and cuts that had already been patched on their faces and arms, but they were otherwise alert and unhurt.

Cyrus burst into tears as soon as he saw Jack, wailing as he stretched his arms out for his dad. Jack racing over to his two boys and quickly gathering them up in his arms, pressing them close to his body as he let out a relieved, shaky sigh. Cyrus muffled his cry into his father’s chest, and even though Jaxen was silent, he too burrowed into Jack’s arms. Relief coursed through the alpha at the warm pressure of his beloved boys, safe and mostly unharmed.

Jack’s heart sunk into his stomach, however, when he realized that Rhys was nowhere to be seen. And considering how Rhys would be at their kids sides for something as small as a paper cut, that did not bode well. Jack swallowed harshly, pulling back from the hug to look at his children. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with pain.

“Where’s mom, kiddos?”

The new tears that bloomed from Cyrus’ eyes answered him enough, even before the boy’s voice broke on his reply.

“Mommy’s still in the car.”

Almost nothing could tear Jack away from his children’s side—but the idea that his hurt, or worse, mate was still stuck in that twisted deathtrap of a car despite all the help that had been summoned to the wreck made his blood boil. He gave his boys both a tight hug, covering them in his scent before he stalked over to the car, his footsteps growing heavier the closer he got to it.

The entire passenger’s side door had been caved in, the twisted wreckage of the console collapsed sideways onto Rhys, pinning the entire right side of his body down against his own seat. The omega’s head was lolled to the side, blood dripping down his bruised face from where it had smacked into the now shattered window.

Jack vaguely registered the sleeve of his shirt and the skin of his elbow getting caught on the shattered shard of the window, but he still reached for his mate. He wanted to hold him, to at least be able to touch his face, but Rhys was now slumped in the opposite direction from the window, the car door buckled outwards and preventing Jack from reaching in as far as he could normally. The alpha was about ready to crawl through the jagged window to get to his mate, when suddenly Rhys stirred and let out a soft whine.

“Rhysie?” Jack hadn’t dared let himself hope that his mate was still alive, but he felt it flare up when he saw his mate move. Rhys’ eyelids fluttered, his lips twitching but not forming coherent words, just moans and whimpers of pain and confusion that made Jack’s heart ache. When he spoke, his was was thick, wracked with agony as he tried to stay strong for his mate.

“Rhysie…Rhysie, I’m here, okay? I’m…we’re going to get you out of this. Just…just hold on.”

Jack nearly fought with the emergency workers who told the alpha to move, nearly tore out one particular mouthy individual’s throat when he had the audacity to insist that Jack being in the way was severely impacting his mate’s survival rate. It was only the soft, distressed crying of his babies that convinced Jack to back down and let the team do their work. They left him alone to tend to his children, sitting between Jaxen and Cyrus with his arms wrapped tightly around them both, back hunched and face angry and mournful as he shielded them against his chest, not wanting them to see Rhys’ body being extricated from the mangled car. He picked up his children, moving them out of the way so that Rhys could be quickly loaded into the ambulance. Jack didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see his mate in such an awful state—but it could very well be the last time he would ever see Rhys alive, so he did. The omega lay limp and bloodied in the stretcher, his skin purpled with bruises, his body carefully belted in with an oxygen mask pressed over his mouth. Jack felt his heart plummet as Rhys quickly disappeared into the inside of the ambulance.


Jack was allowed to strap his babies into the backseat of his own car, the alpha caught between wanting to race after the ambulance to the hospital and driving his car as slowly as humanly possible—considering what had just happened, Cyrus and Jaxen were terrified, curling up into small balls in the backseat as Jack tried to control himself, to drive as cautiously as he possibly could as he drove to the hospital. As soon as he was there and safely parked he called his double, barking scant details to Tim and ordering him to arrive as soon as possible. Jack couldn’t do this alone—he couldn’t handle a potentially dying mate and two terrified children with no one by his side.

Jack was spitting mad when he was told he couldn’t get into the operating room to see his omega, fear howling in his chest. He barely stopped himself from screaming at the doctors stopping him from entering the room, relegating his anger to pacing frantically in the waiting room, brain clouded with thoughts of his mate bleeding out and braindead on an operating table, dying alone and broken without his alpha or his babies by his side. Cyrus sat in the chair with Jaxen on his lap, softly playing with his baby brother’s hands and whispering to him gently as Cyrus tried to distract him.

It was hours before they got any news. Cyrus and Jaxen had nodded off, the two of them curled up in the waiting room chairs, covered by a blanket that had been offered to Jack by the receptionist. The alpha sat in the chair next to his boys, bobbing his knee nervously against the floor. He was exhausted, his eyes burning and brows aching even as he tried to keep himself calm. It was difficult with the gnawing anxiety and fear in his chest, fear that any moment a doctor would come in and tell him that his mate was dead.

That fear swelling in his chest nearly burst when the door to the waiting room clicked open, and the cautious, questioning sounds of “Mr. Lawrence?” broke the tense quiet. Jack’s eyes snapped upwards to see the doctor approaching him, shuffling with care over to the alpha and his sleeping children.

“H…How is he?”

Jack gnawed at his lip, waiting for those terrible words to come—I’m sorry—but they never did. Instead, the doctor glanced at his chart and gave Jack a sympathetic look.

“He’s stable for now, but he’s sustained severe head trauma, among other injuries. We need to keep him here and watch him for now.”

Jack’s energy was too drained to get angry with the doctor, merely nodding his head in resigned sorrow—with a glimmer of relief, admittedly, because at least Rhys wasn’t dead.

“Can we see him?” He asked hoarsely, stroking his hand on Cyrus’ back, slowly trying to rouse the boy When the doctor gave him the go-ahead, Jack lifted up Cyrus and Jaxen in both arms, shuffling behind the man into Rhys’ room. The children fussed a little, rubbing at their eyes and yawning as they woke.

Jack swallowed around the lump in his throat as he saw the omega lying in the bed. Rhys looked like absolute hell, his lively form now lying limp and pale underneath the thin hospital bedsheets. His arms were hooked up to several IVs, filled with either clear fluid or blood. There was an oxygen mask over his bruised face, his gown opened where electrodes and bandages decorated his skin. The harsh, mechanical sound of the machine breathing for his mate sent chills up Jack’s spine.

He felt Cyrus and Jaxen’s little hands curl into his shirt at the sight of their mother. Cyrus let out a tiny, upset whimper at the sight, while Jaxen remained quiet, staring at Rhys’ still form. Jack walked to his mate’s bedside with leaden feet, feeling the weight of his sorrow dragging him down onto Rhys’ bed. He settled his children carefully in his lap, the two staring with wide eyes down at their mother’s bandaged, barely recognizable form.

“Mommy?” Cyrus whispered, breaking the quiet of the room. His little hand reached out and settled on top of Rhys’ limp one, careful not to dislodge any of the sensors or IVs plugged into his arm. Jack’s heart was breaking—even if Rhys was technically alive and stable, he was so badly hurt and not conscious, not even registering Cyrus’ small hands as they held onto one of the omega’s long fingers. To see his usually attentive and alert mate so listless and unaware—it stabbed into the alpha like a piece of jagged glass.

“Is he sleeping?” Cyrus whimpered, looking up at his dad. Jaxen too glanced at Jack, eyebrows knit in confusion and worry. Jack tightened his arms around them, holding them closer to his chest, trying to focus his attention on his children rather then the battered sight of his mate.

“Yeah…just…mom’s gotta sleep for a bit until he’s all better, okay?”

“Oh, okay. Is he going to wake up soon?” Cyrus whispered softly, resting his head against his father’s chest. Jack breathed in deeply, stroking his boy’s back.

“I…I don’t know, kiddo. Let’s hope so, okay?” He kissed the top of Cyru’s head, inhaling in his boy’s scent.


As soon as Cyrus and Jaxen had fallen asleep, Jack had set them on the small row of chairs in the room, covering them up with his jacket and over-shirt. He rubbed his arms, shivering slightly in the lonely chill of the room as he hovered close to Rhys’ bed, silently watching the omega’s still form.

“Hey sweetheart…” Jack whispered, resting his hand on the young man’s shoulder. He was still warm and soft underneath the starchy hospital nightgown, almost like he was just sleeping—instead of comatose and struggling to stay alive against his injuries. Jack let out a ragged sigh, dragging his hand down his face, resting his fingers against his chin with a frown.

“Rhysie….Rhysie Rhysie Rhysie…what am I supposed to do now?” He breathed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.

“Can’t believe I let….let my fucking paranoia put you in danger…god…Rhysie…baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jack hissed through his gritted teeth, squinting his eyes against the warmth curling up in his eyes. He grasped at Rhys’ hand, stroking his knuckles with a soft sob.

“Rhysie, you hang on for those babies, got it? They can’t lose you. Rhys…” Jack tried to swallow, to clear his throat of the thick knot that was forming there. “I can’t do it alone, kitten, you know that….you know you can’t ever leave me, so don’t even think about it.”

His knees hit the floor, arms collapsing against the bed as he wept openly, hating himself for every moment of weakness, every tear that soaked into the bed as he dissolved completely in the broken silence of the hospital room.


Tim had taken the boys back to school the next day, after bringing them home to sleep somewhere outside of a hospital room. Jack barely budged, only eating brief meals at the cafeteria and bringing stale coffee up with him to Rhys’ bedside. Despite the fact that Jack would have appreciated the comfort and warmth of at least one of his children in the quiet of Rhys’ room, he knew the omega wouldn’t forgive him if he allowed Cyrus and Jaxen to miss a lot of school. Jack was struggling to grasp some semblance of normalcy in his life, even when a massive chunk of it was lying bruised and comatose in a hospital bed.

He tapped at his tablet with one hand, the other rubbing softly over Rhys’ slack hand. He was still reluctant to leave his mate’s side, but business needed to be attended to despite Rhys’ condition. So he browsed his emails, sending out messages to his secretary and executives to try to remotely run his company. He doubted that anyone would complain about him taking a few days off to stay by Rhys’ side—at least, if they knew what was good for them—but still, Jack didn’t want Hyperion to completely rot away in his absence.

The omega was doing better—his wounds were healing, his brain scans were coming back normal— but he still hadn’t woken up yet. The doctor had said it was only a matter of time, that Rhys was out of the danger zone at this point, but it did little to quell Jack’s anxiety. He wanted a return to normalcy as soon as possible—wanted for Rhys to be up and about, able to talk to and hug his babies, able to kiss Jack and sleep next to the alpha in bed. The hospital smelled too much of death and sickness to make Jack feel comfortable—he wanted Rhys back home, ensconced in the comfortable smell of family.

Jack set his tablet down, rubbing his thumb over Rhys’ hand as he spaced out in the quiet afternoon light slating into the room. He was leaning back in the chair, dozing off slightly when he felt something twitch in his grasp. He snapped to attention, the chair scraping against the floor as he shot forward, his other hand coming to clutch at the omega’s, pressing his pale fingers against his lips. He swore, swore he’d felt movement, felt a slight tremble in Rhys’ hand. He sat stock still for a moment, his breath ghosting warmly over the man’s fingers, before they again twitched against the alpha’s list.

“Rhysie? Rhysie!” Jack tried to keep his voice down, but his restraint balked at the sudden spark of hope. He got up and sat down at the bed, still holding the omega’s hand.

“You in there, sweetheart?” He whispered. Rhys’ face twitched in response, his eyelids fluttering softly and sending Jack’s heart into convulsions. Jack felt his throat close up with emotion as he saw the sliver of the man’s irises as Rhys opened his eyes slowly, lips parting slightly as he turned his head to the side towards Jack. The alpha watched as his omega’s nostrils flares, taking in his scent as a small smile crossed his face.

“H-Hey there, handsome…” Rhys whispered, voice hoarse from disuse as his eyes opened partway, gaze dazedly falling onto the alpha seated at his side.

Jack sobbed in earnest, tears crawling down his scarred face as he pressed his forehead against Rhys’ and bawled like a child. He was beyond words, just wanting to rub and press himself up against his mate, cover himself in his scent and the knowledge that Rhys was alive and okay.  

The alpha and the omega stayed like that for awhile, Rhys’ letting Jack hold him, relaxing into the older man’s embrace and letting him press his face into Rhys’ neck. He could feel the alpha’s hot breath and tears against the bandaged skin of his throat, still too exhausted to move much.

“I….Rhysie…” Jack struggled to find his voice, hoarse and tearful as it was, “I’m so….I’m so sorry….”

“Jack…” Rhys closed his eyes, nosing against his alpha’s hair with a soft sigh, “don’t….it wasn’t your fault…”

“Just….fuck…” Jack gritted his teeth, pulling back from Rhys’ neck to look the omega in the eyes, “I was too stupid and paranoid…I could have gotten you killed…”

“Hey…come on, tough guy…” Rhys let out a raspy laugh, his hand weakly coming up to rub Jack’s lower back. “I’m….I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“I know, Rhysie, but—“ Jack started, but Rhys hushed him, the omega softly stroking his spine as he leaned in to softly kiss Jack’s chapped lips. The touches and the kiss helped to soothe the alpha, the scent and presence of his alive omega smoothing out Jack’s anxiety.

Jack had soon rested himself next to Rhys on the large hospital pillow, deeply inhaling the omega’s scent as he watched Rhys’ chest evenly rise and fall.

“Cyrus and Jaxen….they’re okay?” Rhys whispered, a brief look of fear flashing across his eyes which Jack was eager to quell, softly stroking the side of the omega’s face and kissing at his ear.

“They’re fine, kitten. Just a couple of scrapes and scratches. They’re with Tim. They’re safe.”

A peaceful smile wafted onto Rhys face as he relaxed back into the bed, letting Jack softly touch him.

“Good…I’m so glad…” Rhys murmured as he drifted off again, too exhausted from his ordeal to stay awake for much longer.

Jack stayed in the bed besides his omega, moving only to grab his phone from the chair and tell Tim that Rhys had woken up, before settling back in next to Rhys and finally relaxing.


A week later and Rhys was finally discharged and able to go home. Jack drove him back to their shared mansion, helping the omega out of the car and into his wheelchair as soon as they arrived. Cyrus and Jaxen had quickly hopped out of the backseat and wiggled up into their mother’s lap with happy smiles, careful not to jostle the still healing omega too much.

“I got an A on my spelling test mom!” Cyrus giggled, snuggling up against the omega’s chest. Rhys smiled softly, petting the boy’s head.

“Oh? That’s wonderful, Cyrus! My smart little boy.”

Jack had had a small, temporary ramp set up over the stairs leading up to the mansion’s front door, carefully wheeling Rhys and his babies up it before opening the door. As soon as he pushed Rhys into the foyer, Cyrus hopped down from Rhys’ lap, helping Jaxen down and holding his little brother’s hand as he looked up at his dad.

“How about you two pop off to the kitchen, and I’ll make you some snacks as soon as I get mom all settled in?” Jack smiled down at his children, affectionately patting Rhys’ shoulder. Cyrus’ beamed and nodded, running off in the direction of the kitchen with Jaxen toddling on after him.

Jack parked Rhys’ wheelchair next to the stairs, before carefully picking the omega up into his arms, making sure not to press onto any of his healing wounds as he walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom. The soft, gentle smile that Rhys gave him when he was laid out on the soft bed, the fine sheets pulled up to his chest made Jack’s heart throb. He sat on the bed and leaned over the omega, kissing softly up his neck and making Rhys giggle. He smoothed back the omega’s hair with his hand, earning a satisfied sigh from Rhys as Jack leaned in close, nudging their foreheads together.

“It’s good to be home, huh sweetheart?”

A little breath laugh passed Rhys’ lips as he locked eyes with his handsome mate.

“You have no idea, Jack.”