“Gŵyl Ifan”

Rhys watched the fireflies dance in the darkness outside his bedroom window, charmed by the softly swaying balls of yellow-green light. Rhys rested his elbows against the sill, feeling the tickle of warm summer breeze against his cheeks. Thanks to the change in weather, he’d started to leave the windows open to clear the stuffiness out of their bedroom. The sounds of the forest that used to so terrify him now felt a source of comfort, especially with his beastly lover settled besides him on the bed.

After the third slice of fresh-baked blackberry crumble, Jack had mostly forgiven him for the earlier bath. He now lay flat on his back against the blankets, claw curled on his full stomach as he purred to himself. Rhys glanced sidelong at him with a smile, before finally peeling away from the window to join his lover.

Some Midsummer fluff with a bit of worldbuilding for the Hart of Thorn AU 🙂 Enjo!

“You sure you didn’t fall through the blackberry bush instead of walk into it like you told me?”

“No, I didn’t fall into it, it just….I just got stuck is all.”

“Guess that would explain all this…” Rhys smirked as he worked another clump of matted thorns and leaves out of Jack’s damp fur. The spirit fussed and wriggled in the bathtub, water splashing over the rim as he shifted, annoyed. Rhys had dragged the wooden tub outside of the lair in order to use the warm, natural sunlight to help dry his beleaguered lover off, but the shimmering gold filtering through the canopy of leaves above seemed to only aggravate Jack further.

“It was like it attacked me, sugarplum. Stupid plant and it’s stupid frikkin’ thorns,” Jack snarled, clawing lightly at his forearms until Rhys’ carefully placed his hands atop them, submerging his limbs back into the warm, soapy water. Antsy as Jack was, he managed to keep them their, dealing with his anger by staring straight ahead as if he hoped his gaze could light the butterflies dancing about on fire.

He had no such look, so he merely stewed in the bath as Rhys kept fishing the thorns and burrs out of his fur. The omega tossed them aside as he pulled them out, washing the tangled fur they left behind until it was nice and silky.

Rhys had forgone his usual clothing for something lighter, more suitable for the summer weather. He’d taken an old robe and shorn it of its sleeves before hemming it up above his knees to show off his long, pale legs. He liked it like this. He felt freer and less inhibited thanks to the new outfit, though he still blushed as he rubbed his hands over his naked, hairy lover. He would have to save anything salacious for later, though, as Cyrus toddled around nearby, chasing butterflies and stopping to bend down and chat with the songbirds.

“H-Hey, careful with that!” Jack growled as Rhys worked out one particularly stubborn burr. It’d tangled a wavy lock of hair around its whole width, spines nearly pricking the tips of Rhys’ fingers as Jack tugged against it.

“Hush, keep still and it’ll be faster a lot quicker…and then you’ll be able to have a piece of the pie I’m planning to make.” Rhys eyed the basket he’d set down besides the tub, full above the brim with plump blackberries. Jack had thrashed about a fair bit when he’d been stuck in the bush and knocked off a decent amount of fruit, and well—there was no point in wasting so many blackberries when Rhys had plenty of ideas as to what to do with them.

Eventually the omega managed to work most of the knots out of Jack’s fur, washing the remnants of dirt off his body until he felt satisfied enough with his lover’s cleanliness.

“Are we done now?” Jack groused over his shoulder, fangs poking out from his lower lip. Rhys smirked, patting him on the shoulder as he rose to his feet.

“We just cleaned your lair out, mister. You’re going to sit out here and dry in the sun before you track anything inside.”

Jack groaned, even as he crawled out of the tub and slunk down onto a patch of grass shimmering softly in the sun. Rhys tipped out the soiled water before lying down besides him, the cuddling lovers soon joined by Cyrus, eager to show off the blue butterfly he’d caught to his parents.

Rhys watched the fireflies dance in the darkness outside his bedroom window, charmed by the softly swaying balls of yellow-green light. Rhys rested his elbows against the sill, feeling the tickle of warm summer breeze against his cheeks. Thanks to the change in weather, he’d started to leave the windows open to clear the stuffiness out of their bedroom. The sounds of the forest that used to so terrify him now felt a source of comfort, especially with his beastly lover settled besides him on the bed.

After the third slice of fresh-baked blackberry crumble, Jack had mostly forgiven him for the earlier bath. He now lay flat on his back against the blankets, claw curled on his full stomach as he purred to himself. Rhys glanced sidelong at him with a smile, before finally peeling away from the window to join his lover. The bed dipped beneath his weight as the omega crawled atop it, snuggling into Jack’s furred side and resting his cheek atop his chest. He idly traced his fingers in a circle, through the comparatively feathery hairs that thinned out further away from his sternum. A question stirred in his head, one he’d been entertaining for the entire evening—really, since he’d first rescued a distressed Jack from that thicket.

“You know,” he started, “considering you’re hundreds of years old and a powerful spirit, I half-expected you might be able to win a fight against a blackberry bramble…” Rhys started, mostly teasing but also curious. It wasn’t much like Jack to get caught in something so docile. Blackberry bushes were thorny, sure, but not exactly aggressive.

A low growl rumbled in his lover’s chest, right under his ear. Just when Rhys wondered if he should take it back and try to move onto another topic of conversation, Jack spoke.

“It’s…well…” Jack gestured vaguely with his other claw, his brows furrowed. “I mean…you remember meeting Timmy, right?”

Of course Rhys did. The other spirit had stayed with them for nearly an entire week back in the springtime, bonding with Cyrus and teasing a grumbling Jack the whole time. Honestly, Rhys had grown rather fond of him and felt sad to see him go. Jack had assured, with a little reluctance, that Tim would be visiting again, and Rhys found himself looking forward to it.

“Yes…what does Timothy have to do with your blackberry bush tussle, though?”

Jack’s frown deepened, so he pressed it against the top of Rhys’ head.

“Spring and summer are Tim’s time…remember? He’s out there galavanting at full power right now…meanwhile…”

Rhys took in a short breath.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’ is right.” Jack’s claws stroked down Rhys’ back, tickling lightly over his spine. “So…while losing a fight with a frikkin’ bush still isn’t exactly my proudest moment, I’m not too surprised it went down like that.”

“I see.” Rhys nodded, the new information swirling around in his head. He’d been told about Jack and Tim’s cycling of power between them, but hadn’t realized just how severe it could be. It would explain Jack’s reluctance to go out into the summer sun, as the season symbolized his annual weakness.

A part of him worried at the revelation—he’d long grown accustomed to Jack’s strength, to the idea that the spirit would protect him and their son no matter what. Though he’d laughed at the entanglement with the bush, he now wondered what might happen should a more serious threat encroach on Jack’s domain.

But it was hard to dwell on such unlikely unpleasantness with the chirp of insects and nocturnal birds from outside the open window and the rise and fall of Jack’s chest beneath his ear keeping him calm. So he smiled softly to himself, and gentled away his fears.

“You know…It was nice to be able to rescue you for once. Feels like it’s always the other way around.” Rhys rolled over slightly, so he could look up at Jack with the curl of a smug grin. “You better watch out. I might overturn your status as a mighty hero.”

Jack smiled despite his dismissive snort, ruffling Rhys’ hair with a clawed hand.

“Watch it. I’m not totally impotent, sugarplum.” The spirit shifted against the bed, another growl—this time more sensual—bubbling up from his chest. “I could show you, if you still have enough energy left over from your daring ‘rescue’ today.”

“Oh, I think I can muster some up.” Rhys smirked deviously as he pushed himself up, straddling Jack’s hips. His loose robe fell down off of one shoulder, exposing his pale skin. He’d started to get freckles there, thanks to the sun and to Jack’s endless delight—and endless kisses. He’d been sporting even more bite marks and bruises than usual as of late. Rhys purred with pleasure as Jack’s claws found his hips beneath his shorn robes, giving them a squeeze that sent a shudder to Rhys’ loins. He rested his own hands against Jack’s chest, sending a sultry look down at the willfully submissive beast beneath him.

“Maybe it’ll be just the thing to help you feel stronger.”

“You sure you didn’t fall through the blackberry bush instead of walk into it like you told me?”

“No, I didn’t fall into it, it just….I just got stuck is all.”

“Guess that would explain all this…” Rhys smirked as he worked another clump of matted thorns and leaves out of Jack’s damp fur. The spirit fussed and wriggled in the bathtub, water splashing over the rim as he shifted, annoyed. Rhys had dragged the wooden tub outside of the lair in order to use the warm, natural sunlight to help dry his beleaguered lover off, but the shimmering gold filtering through the canopy of leaves above seemed to only aggravate Jack further.

“It was like it attacked me, sugarplum. Stupid plant and it’s stupid frikkin’ thorns,” Jack snarled, clawing lightly at his forearms until Rhys’ carefully placed his hands atop them, submerging his limbs back into the warm, soapy water. Antsy as Jack was, he managed to keep them their, dealing with his anger by staring straight ahead as if he hoped his gaze could light the butterflies dancing about on fire.

He had no such look, so he merely stewed in the bath as Rhys kept fishing the thorns and burrs out of his fur. The omega tossed them aside as he pulled them out, washing the tangled fur they left behind until it was nice and silky.

Rhys had forgone his usual clothing for something lighter, more suitable for the summer weather. He’d taken an old robe and shorn it of its sleeves before hemming it up above his knees to show off his long, pale legs. He liked it like this. He felt freer and less inhibited thanks to the new outfit, though he still blushed as he rubbed his hands over his naked, hairy lover. He would have to save anything salacious for later, though, as Cyrus toddled around nearby, chasing butterflies and stopping to bend down and chat with the songbirds.

“H-Hey, careful with that!” Jack growled as Rhys worked out one particularly stubborn burr. It’d tangled a wavy lock of hair around its whole width, spines nearly pricking the tips of Rhys’ fingers as Jack tugged against it.

“Hush, keep still and it’ll be faster a lot quicker…and then you’ll be able to have a piece of the pie I’m planning to make.” Rhys eyed the basket he’d set down besides the tub, full above the brim with plump blackberries. Jack had thrashed about a fair bit when he’d been stuck in the bush and knocked off a decent amount of fruit, and well—there was no point in wasting so many blackberries when Rhys had plenty of ideas as to what to do with them.

Eventually the omega managed to work most of the knots out of Jack’s fur, washing the remnants of dirt off his body until he felt satisfied enough with his lover’s cleanliness.

i’m going to extend the summer solstice fic a bit with stuff exploring jack and rhys’ relationship in this AU, but here’s a fluffy bit of preview to start off!!

please some consensual ovi, with anyone, just stuff them til they can’t walk please

whew, getting back into the swing of writing is a little hard. but i wrote a little fluffy something with an eridian mutated jack that i hope you like!

Rhys wasn’t used to not being able to use his own two legs, but with the attention Jack lavished on him he hardly missed it.

He did miss not being able to see his toes or lay down in any position he wanted without uncomfortable pressure weighing against his hips and spine, but the amount of kisses and hugs and—other—things Jack lavished on him made even those losses a little less galling.

Some other man might freak out about being stuffed with eggs even when waited on hand and foot, but Rhys considering he had already witnessed his wealthy lover turning into a scaly, Eridian-mutated monster, he felt pretty sure he was immune to freaking out an further.

So he was going to lay down in the blanket nest he’d built himself on Jack’s massive leather couch, turn on his favorite programs, and gorge himself on a bowlful of ice cream and potato chips until his boyfriend came home.

The eggs shifted slightly inside of him as he sat himself up a bit more against the arm of the chair, bowl of half-melted chip ice cream balanced between his chest and his swollen belly. The blue T-shirt he’d ordered not a few days ago was already stretched taunt across his middle, material holding out even as his brood grew even larger in size.

Jack had fussed during those first few weeks over how many eggs he’d put into Rhys in that first fit of hormonal passion, but Rhys had mostly shrugged it off. He figured if he ended up in any real danger, Jack’s wealth and Hyperion’s medical advancements could probably take care of him. So he kept on laying back, resting and eating and marveling with semi-morbid fascination at the size of his growing stomach.

Rhys set aside the now-empty bowl of ice cream before sitting up even more, his blanket pooling in his lap as he rolled up the hem of his shirt, peering down at the swollen bulge of his stomach. He rubbed his cybernetic hand down the ample curve, now able to feel the subtle bumps of the eggs underneath his stretched skin with every stroke.

He ended up getting a little bit lost in feeling his stomach, not noticing the soft click of the penthouse door closing shut, nor the thump of footfalls until they were right on top of him. And then it was too late, and Jack’s muscular arms were wrapping around Rhys’ chest, warm breath billowing against his ear.

“Enjoying the view there, kiddo?”

A quiet yelp escaped from between Rhys’ teeth, muscles in his neck tensing as his boyfriend nuzzled up against his cheek. He snorted softly as his heart stopped its surprised racing, one hand lifting to cradle the side of Jack’s head as he turned and lightly kissed his lover’s fanged lips.

“Not really much of a view…I can’t see much past my stomach…” A slight sardonic tone filtered into his voice, though he lost it when Jack’s warm palm reached around to rest against the swell of his stomach, his touch affectionate despite the curl of his wicked, black claws and the glowing patches of purple scales trailing from wrist to knuckle.

“Well…gotta say it’s pretty sweet and sexy from over here…much better than staring at a whole lotta nothing in the office,” Jack purred, knees thumping to the floor as he crouched next to the couch where Rhys’ lay. “Miss you there, pumpkin.”

“Jack, if I could waddle all the way down to the office, believe me, I would, but…” Rhys had only got up twice today, once to go to the bathroom and once to grab his ice cream-chip concoction. He wasn’t exactly in the business of locomotion at the moment.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. At least I can rest easy knowing you’re safe at home, though…and show you how much I miss you whenever I get back.” The way Jack smiles, showing off all the new sets of teeth he’d grown ever since his mutation, sends shivers of anticipation down into Rhys’ overfull gut. Jack knows how horny he’s gotten ever since he’d been impregnated, a fact both of them enjoy thoroughly.

His fingers lace over the back of Jack’s hand, an interested growl rousing up from his throat as his thighs rub together underneath the blanket.

“By all means…go ahead and show me, big guy.”

For Friends or More? Starters: “I keep telling them we’re not dating, but they keep telling me friends don’t normally make out when drunk.” OR “I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright? It’s a… Terrifying… Rom-com… ….. .” Pairing of your choice!

sorry this took so long! trying to clean prompts out of my inbox!

(did the first one, though I might still do the second…)

kind of based off an idea where college junior Jack tutors college freshman Rhys, and they become closer c:

“So, Vaughn thinks we’re dating.”

Rhys regretted speaking up the moment the words left his lips, but it was too late now, Jack had already clearly heard him, by the puzzled look on his face. His eyebrows always arched up like that, all jagged and angled like lines on paper, making him look equal parts angry and perplexed.

“Really?” He and Jack were sitting only a couple of inches on the couch, eyes temporarily off of the television thanks to the commercial break. Rhys fidgeted his fingers in his lap, now on the hook for an explanation.

“Well, uh, you know Vaughn, he’s always been a little paranoid and overprotective, I mean….we’ve been friends for a long time, he’s like…he’s like a brother, you know, and when he sees someone with me sometimes he thinks…well…you know he was at the party we went to.”

“Yeah…” Jack nodded slowly. “And…? Did he like, say something to you?”

“He—I guess—I don’t know…” Rhys trailed off dumbly, seriously regretting bringing this up. He should’ve known Jack wouldn’t remember what happened at last weekend’s party. He’d been way drunk, more than a couple rounds of beer pong into the night when he’d cornered Rhys right outside the frat house’s bathroom and planted a loose, wet kiss right on the younger man’s lips. Rhys remembered the taste of beer and chips, something he’d probably find disgusting in a different context but at the time, he’d pressed forward through his surprise, subconsciously craving more—only for Jack to lean back and giggle drunkenly before belching right in Rhys’ face and staggering off.

So. Not the most romantic encounter in the world, but still. Jack had kissed him, and Rhys had been foolish enough to think that meant something, that maybe Jack’s silence in the ensuing week was just due to him working through his feelings. But it was obvious now, from Jack’s response, that he didn’t even remember, and that Rhys had been an idiot for even entertaining the idea of Jack reciprocating the younger man’s muddled feelings.

Vaughn had been teasing him all week, after he himself had witnessed the sloppy kiss. Asking Rhys if he was going to make it official. And Rhys had been more than willing to just let Jack be the first to bring it up, until the older man had invited himself over to watch some television and grab a bite to eat, leading to this conversation that Rhys wished badly he could excuse himself from.

“Sorry, I—“ he sighed, running his fingers angrily through his hair, “—it’s just dumb, of course we’re not dating or anything, we’re just kind of friends and that’s it, I’m stupid, sorry—“ Rhys yelped as strong fingers suddenly clenched into the collar of his shirt, yanking the distance closed between him and Jack until something warm and slightly chapped pressed up against his lips.

Rhys’ heart leapt in his chest as the older man suddenly kissed him, lips still and soft against Rhys’ own as the Jack’s other hand came to rest against his shoulder, holding him in place.

Rhys thought his lungs might explode, either from the shock or the lack of air, he wasn’t sure which might do him in first. As soon as Jack pulls their lips apart he exhales harshly, and just like that, most of the tension flushes out through his body as Jack smiles, the confusion from before replaced with a softness Rhys remembers from that first day they’d met. Back when Rhys had first failed his bio-chem midterm, when Jack had first agreed to take him under his metaphorical wing. Back when they’d first starting becoming friends.

And now Jack had kissed him.

“So I….I take it you remember what happened last weekend? At the party?” Rhys asked carefully, breath surprisingly steady in the scant air between them. Jack’s eyebrow cocked up, expression thinking, but after a moment he only shrugged.

“Nah. Can’t remember a damn thing about that night other than lots of beer and Nish taking her top off on the banister.” Jack carefully patted Rhys’ shoulder. “You just kind….I dunno. You look like you needed it.”

Rhys let out a deflated chuckle.

“Did I really look that pathetic?” He shook his head, though he let Jack tug him in closer, into a loose hug.

“For what it’s worth, you look a lot happier now.” Rhys wrinkled his nose as Jack poked his cheek. “Got some color in your face.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me.” Rhys leaned forward, unable to stop the little smile plucking at his lips. “Glad you did, though.”

“Guess you’re little friend was right, then. He’s a lot sharper than I gave him credit for,” Jack admitted, his arm slipping further around Rhys’ shoulders. “Gotta give him some thanks, next time I see him.”

Rhys wasn’t exactly sure if Vaughn would gloat at being right all along, or balk at the reality of Rhys actually dating someone as devil-may-care as Jack. But that was something he could think about later on—after he kissed Jack’s perfect lips a couple hundred more times.

i feel like i can only write brief drabbles right now orz

well….have more sick rhys, for the prompt “I don’t think you got over your cold. Sounds like it just moved on into your chest.”

Jack had first noticed Rhys’ sickness the day previously.

When asked, Rhys had dismissed it as a momentary case of the sniffles, resulting in Jack shrugging it off, figuring Rhys had no reason to lie. But no lies would conceal the fact that the sickness had seemingly gotten worse overnight, as Rhys didn’t bother to rise with Jack as he usually did. Jack had initially moved on, starting to pick out his clothes and brush his hair, but when he didn’t hear his boyfriend get up from bed he walked back over, one hand on his hip as he plucked at the covers pulled up over Rhys’ face.

“Ugh…” Rhys moaned, trying to pop himself up on his cybernetic elbow. Jack could tell by his bleary eyes and slow blinking he was in no condition to get out of bed, and yet Rhys tried to sit up, slinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The momentum nearly caused him to pitch forward, before Jack caught him by the shoulder and righted him back up.

“Okay, pumpkin, easy,” Jack patted his boyfriend on the shoulders as he looked him over. Rhys’ skin had paled considerably, his swollen nose and eyes standing out. Rhys sniffled, the sound rattling in his throat as he limply rubbed at his face. Jack crouched down on his level, frowning.

“I don’t think you got over your cold.” Jack leaned in close, lightly poking his boyfriend’s sternum, “sounds like it just moved on into your chest.”

“I’m….I’m fine…” Rhys insisted, the weakness in his voice doing little to sway Jack’s conviction as one hand moved underneath Rhys’ jawline. He winced as Jack’s fingers lightly massaged the swollen glands beneath his ears, confirming this was more than just a minor cold.

“Jaack, stop, I’m not gonna stay home…”

The older man tutted, the condescending way he waggled his finger belying the true concern in his words.

“Nuh-uh. Nope. No way you’re going into work today. You’re all warm and swollen and snotty, you’re not gonna be much help. Besides, I think I can make it one day alone without Helios catching on fire.”

“Don’t….jinx it…” Rhys sighed, not fighting Jack as the older man tucked him back underneath the blankets. Jack tried to rise up, only for clammy fingers to grasp against his wristwatch and cause him to freeze.

“You’re…you’re not just gonna leave your sick boyfriend all alone, are you?” Rhys’ reedy voice entered that petulant register that he knew could bring Jack to his knees. The CEO sighed, but sunk back down against the edge of the bed.

“You really are spoiled.” Jack stroked his fingers through Rhys’ sweat-damp hair, watching the satisfied glimmer of rheumy eyes from above the covers. “Was that just fake concern about Helios going up in flames?”

“…You can be a little late, can’t you?” Rhys croaked, leaning into the touch of his boyfriend’s hand on his hair like the sick puppy he was.

Truth be told, Jack had a meeting with a couple of key shareholders that he’d been putting off for a few weeks, now. Realistically, though, no one would dare to bitch too much if that was postponed another couple of hours—or another day. Or however long it would take Rhys to get over his illness.

“All right, pumpkin, you win,” Jack finally relented, much to Rhys’ delight. The older man crawled back up to his customary spooning position, keeping a barrier of blankets between him and his sick boyfriend as they cuddled, Jack soothing each of Rhys’ more painful coughs until he fell back into a light sleep.

@dasuberchicken wanted some Rhysquez fluff with Hugo finding some abandoned kittens and taking them home/trying to hide them from Rhys. Enjoy honey!

Sometimes Rhys got home late.

Sometimes it was because something had happened at the office, or on the way home, costing him time in his usual commute. Sometimes he remembered an errand he forgot to do and ended up making an extra pitstop to grab ice cream or condoms or a new phone charger.

Sometimes he was just late because, you know. Sometimes one was just late.

Today was one of those times. Somehow, time had jut gotten away from him, and he found himself thirty minutes behind the usual schedule, and with light rain slowing the drive to boot he ended up getting hime around six o ‘clock, just as the sun glowed through the clouds, light winking over the jacaranda trees on the other side of the street.

Predictably enough, Hugo’s car was already parked in the garage when Rhys pulled in. His boyfriend was far less prone told distractions and delay than Rhys was, and always liked to get home early to get dinner simmering on the stove.

However, when Rhys opened the garage door, he was not greeted with the enticing smell of sizzling meat and Southwestern spices. Rhys furrowed his brow, quickly scoping out the kitchen and living room for his boyfriend, but he found neither hide nor hair of him.

“Hugo?” Rhys called out, trying to zero in on his boyfriend’s location. A soft thump sounded from the direction of their bedroom, followed by a muffled voice. Both noises drew Rhys down the hallway, his curiosity piquing as Hugo’s voice grew louder and more distinct, though Rhys couldn’t yet decipher what he was saying.

Or who he was saying it to—his mind nastily supplied as he approached the ajar bedroom door. Rhys scowled, shoving the needling little voice aside. Hugo wouldn’t cheat on him.

But he confusion and suspicion only grew as he crept closer, standing right outside of the room with his ear nearly pressed against the doorframe. Hugo was speaking softly, making it still difficult to comprehend what exactly he was saying, but Rhys did pick up “easy” and “careful and “shhhh.”

His stomach fluttered anxiously as he took a deep breath, before pushing open the door and striding straight into the bedroom.

He saw Hugo hunched over the side of the bed for a brief moment before the man noticed him and whirled around, his palms out defensively.

“R-Rhys! Don’t…don’t scare me like that….” he nervously chuckled, lowering his hands slightly but keeping them at stomach level as Rhys walked closer, hands on his hips. He couldn’t see anything immediately—if Hugo had brought home another man, he’d be easy to find—but his boyfriend’s anxious behavior immediate validated his alarm bells.

“Hugo…what are you hiding?” Rhys raised his eyebrow, trying to look over the man’s shoulders, but even with his advantage in height it was hard to see beyond his bulk. Stupid muscular boyfriend. What kind of secret was he keeping?

“It’s nothing,” Hugo assured, a little too firmly. Rhys stuck out his lower lip in suspicion, fixing Hugo with his “I-know-you’re-lying” stare. Hugo was really pretty bad at fibbing—he had ticks that Rhys had leaned like the back of his hand by now. When he was lying and nervous about it, he would casually rub one pec with the opposite hand, as if he was trying to distract Rhys by drawing attention to the body he adored so much. But Rhys wasn’t fooled by that any longer.

“You know, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, there’s going to be….consequences…” Rhys put his hands on his hips to show he was being super serious. “Really unsexy consequences. I don’t think you want that.

Hugo faltered.

“Rhys…”

The younger man was about to open his mouth, when a sudden, tiny little noise cut him off. He froze, his hair suddenly standing on end.

“What was that?” He quickly brushed past Hugo, only for the older man to grab at his wrist, missing by an inch as Rhys danced around the foot of the bed. Before him sat a nest of fabric that Rhys quickly identified as Hugo’s Tuesday jacket—a dark, heathered blue with silver buttons—wrapped loosely around a litter of tiny, damp little kittens.

Almost instantly, Rhys’ suspicious melted.

“I…I found them while I was walking to my car…” Hugo stammered as he squeezed past Rhys, kneeling down next to the kittens. One mewled softly, raising its little head into Hugo’s broad palm. It looked huge compared to the tiny little creature, reminding Rhys of how perfectly his own fine hands fit in with Hugo’s.

“Sorry…I know you’ve been pretty adamant on the whole ‘no pets’ thing and I get it, you don’t want some little thing screwing around with our stuff but…” Hugo ran his other hand nervously through his hair—Rhys noticed it was still a little damp. “I couldn’t just leave them out there, you know? I didn’t know where their mother was, but if she left them while they were this young I…I just didn’t want to leave them to die…”

“Hey hey hey, Hugo, come on, don’t start crying on me.” Rhys calmly rested his hand against his boyfriend’s forearm, a small smile forming over his lips. He turned his attention to the kittens, chest warm at the site of the little creatures mewling and crawling all over each other as they nuzzled against Hugo’s fingers.

“I’m not heartless, you know,” Rhys murmured as he rested his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder, “I’m not gonna make you put a bunch of helpless kittens out in the rain.”

“I…I know, I just…” Hugo faltered as one of the kittens softly nibbled on the tip of his finger, “I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with it.”

“Well…we’ll have to talk about whether we can keep—“ Rhys quickly counted, “—nine kittens in a two bedroom house, but for now we can make sure they’re warm and fed until they’re ready to be on their own.”

Hugo’s smile brightened as he tilted his chin towards Rhys, capturing his lips in an affectionate kiss.

“Well…we were talking about maybe adopting some kids one day…”

Rhys chuckled as he sat down on the ground, reaching out and carefully stroking the folded ears of one tiny, orange kitten. It mewled softly at the touch, melting his heart further.

“Guess we can consider this practice.”

i wanted to do some small low-commitment drabbles and got suggested jack being self conscious over his dad-bod but rhys loving it. just something small.

“You know,” Rhys’ voice sounded behind him just as Jack let the free weights fall to the padded floor, “you don’t really have to do this.”

Jack turned to look over his shoulder as he loosely swung out his arms, stretching out the tingling muscles. Rhys had that look on his face, the one he took up whenever he thought Jack was doing something ridiculous or unnecessary, which kind of stumped him. Jack was just lifting weights. In the little personal gym he’d carved out of an empty guest room a few days back. There wasn’t anything really strange or contemptible about that.

“What’s wrong with wanting to keep in shape?” Jack clapped his hands together, rubbing the smarting, newly-formed calluses against each other. “You wanna strong, beefcake of a hero to pick you up and throw you down into bed, don’t ya kiddo?”

“You’re already plenty strong. Besides, something tells me this isn’t really about strength. Something about all the mirrors you have in here.” Rhys pointed around the room and okay, yeah, maybe Jack had gone a little crazy with the mirrors, but that was just because he needed to be able to admire how handsome he was from all angles.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re insinuating.” Jack snorted as he lifted his arms up over his head, palming an elbow as he stretched out his triceps.

To his horror, Rhys flitted forward and dared to poke the little paunch of a belly sagging down slightly over Jack’s waistband. The CEO frowned and quickly sucked in his gut, fixing Rhys with a glare.

“Don’t, pumpkin.”

“Why? I love how you look right now. I think it’s sexy.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. He lowered his arms and peered down at his middle as Rhys’ fingers traveled along to his hips, stroking the bulges of flesh peeking out over his shorts. Rhys’ face was close, to the point where Jack could almost feel the warmth of his admiring blush.

“You….you really don’t mind a little meat on these bones?” Jack grunted, feeling a weird mix of flattered and self-conscious as Rhys’ hands ran over all his “problem” areas, from his pretzel-fed belly to his hips and even up his sweat-stained shirt and over the soft, sparsely haired pectorals.

“Do I need to show you for you to believe me?” Rhys’ hands suddenly fell to his butt, giving the ample cheeks a squeeze and causing Jack to wriggle in his arms like a fish. A wide grin spread over the CEO’s face as he pressed his bulk forward against Rhys’ slender form, sliding his arms over his lover’s shoulder as they came together in a smirking kiss.

“Couldn’t hurt.”

last of the Easter prompts (though I still have asks to go through)

Just wanted to do a tiny drabble for the fancy omega AU. so thats all this is haha

“You know,” Rhys turned to look at his husband, “this Easter egg hunt isn’t much of….a ‘hunt’ in the first place, is it?”

“Hm? What do you mean by that, babe?” Jack slid his arm about Rhys’ shoulder, nudging their temples together.

“Well…I mean, look at it…” Rhys gestured to the lawn before them, artificially carved out of Helios’ steel flooring and populated with exotic pastel fauna. “All the eggs are like..right there out in the open. It’s like you didn’t even try to make them hard to find.”

“Hey, I wasn’t about to risk getting them lost. Those eggs were expensive. I had to get them custom ordered, even someone as powerful and rich as myself can’t just get 20 pounds of gold melted down and cast into hollow eggs without a bit of notice.”

Rhys balked at him.

“You…you didn’t really…did you?”

Jack puffed out his chest.

“Only the best for my kids, pumpkin.”

Rhys sighed with a smile, shaking his head as he watched Cyrus triumphantly pluck one of those ridiculously elaborate eggs from the top of a bright-blue bush. He quickly noticed Rhys watching and waved the egg about triumphantly, before racing off to find more before the other children of Helios’ elite did.

“You know, Cyrus would have probably been happy with a couple colorful plastic eggs….even if there was nothing inside.” Rhys lightly nudged his husband in the side as Jack let out an indignant huff.

“Please. No way I was gonna let them find some pedestrian store-bought eggs…that’s just insulting.”

“You’re so pretentious,” Rhys teased as he watched Jaxen get down on his knees by a shrub sprawling with corkscrew tendrils, groping for an egg underneath it while Cyrus cheered on. “What’d you even put in those things anyway?”

“Imported chocolates…jelly beans with my face on it…” Jack dropped his arm to wind about Rhys’ waist, letting the omega rest his head on his shoulder. “I…I may have put little prototypes in some of the bigger ones.”

Rhys raise his chin so quickly he almost clocked Jack in the jaw as he fixed him with an annoyed look.

“Jack—“

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Jack immediately assured, “they’re toy guns. They’re not gonna kill anyone.” He wavered. “Maybe. Probably. They might singe hair but nothing that bad.”

Rhys sighed, shaking his head.

“I hope you know you’ve just signed yourself up for gun safety lessons if either of them finds those eggs.”

Jack chuckled softly, rubbing his mate’s waist as they both watched Jaxen finally roll the absolutely huge egg out from underneath the bush, much to his and Cyrus’ delight.

“Looks like I better get teaching, huh?”

Do u know those events in movies (does that actually happen irl idk im not american where adults hide a bunch of eggs in a huge park and kids have to look for them so how about Rhys and Jack go for the same egg at the same time and rhys is like go ahead take it and jack is like ur cute wanna team up and find more together and idk jack’s parents call him and before he leaves he gives rhys a kiss on da cheek idk is that too much IDK I JUST THINK KID JACK IS SUPER CUTE ignore this if u dont like it

;-; I’m sorry I’m not very good at writing kid interactions, I usually write kids interacting with the parents so sorry if it’s awkward

Jack was going to win the annual Easter Egg hunt for sure.

His mom kept telling him that it wasn’t a competition, that it was just about fun, but he wasn’t having any of that. He was going to get the most eggs and beat all the rest of the kids so bad that they might even cry.

Jack definitely felt like he didn’t have much competition as his mother led him over to the group of parents and children gathering near the sidewalk surrounding the little park. Most of the other kids were either younger than him or seemed more interested in picking their noses and trying to take off their shoes than the colorful eggs Jack could already see scattered about the grass and in the bushes. He smirked confidently as he hefted his for-now empty Easter basket up in his hand, knowing there were far more eggs that had actually been hidden.

They checked in with the event coordinators at a little table, where his mother signed some papers and Jack got to customize his own name-tag with little skulls before slapping it onto his shirt and walking off to join the other kids.

A little yellow ribbon tied between two small trees formed the “starting line” where all the children clustered, ready to make a break for the colorful eggs. Jack wiggled his way into the front, his height and age making it easy to nudge some of the littler kids out of the way, though he made sure not to push or nudge anyone lest his mom decide he was acting too unruly. He didn’t want to be pulled away from his goals when he was already so close.

The lady in charge of the egg hunt quickly made her way to the side of the starting line, her smile as bright as the yellow of her sundress. Jack tensed, hunching into position, ready to sprint as soon as the ribbon dropped and the hunt finally began. He half-listened as she listed the rules, impatient and jittery. Finally, she started the countdown, untying the ribbon on the tree a split second before Jack sprinted off ahead.

He easily outpaced the other children, scooping up a couple of the eggs plunked obviously on the grass, but they were largely small and—thanks to a quick shake—probably filled with jelly beans. Jack pulled a face, sticking out his tongue even as he dropped them into his basket. He hated jelly beans. The little kids could have these loser eggs. He knew that the bigger ones with the best candy would be most well-hidden.

Jack had found quite a few of the larger prizes before he spotted a huge, sparkling blue egg from a couple feet away, sitting perched on the edge of the adult water fountain. Jack snorted smugly as he bounded over, knowing full well none of the other kids could dream of reaching up there.

But as he stretched out his hand to grab at the egg, another hand knocked into his just as he put his hand on the sparkly shell. He turned angrily, about to yell at the owner of the hand that he’d gotten there first and this egg belonged to him, but he stopped as soon as his eyes fell upon the other boy.

“Oh….sorry….” He retracted his hand against his chest, eyes cast down to his chest in embarrassment. Jack kept his hand on the egg but furrowed his brow at the other boy as he carefully picked it up off of the fountain.

Jack didn’t recognize him from the starting line. He was a little bit taller than Jack was, but looked the same age, if not younger. His hair looked fluffy and slightly messy, like his mom hadn’t bothered to fix his hair aside from a quick combing. On the other hand, his clothes looked fancier than a lot of the other kids, like the stuff Jack’s mom would make him wear when she made him go to his grandmother’s house. The pale blue shirt and dark grey pants were very clean even with the ground covered in grass and mud, like they’d just come from the laundromat. He even wore a fancy little red tie.

Jack glanced down at the egg, watching it glint in the sunlight filtering between the trees. The glitter covering it felt rough against his palm as he rubbed it, a little coming off onto his fingers. He noticed it matched the others boy’s eyes. Jack knew better, knew that eyes didn’t sparkle the way the glittery eggs did, but the thought made his heart thump a little faster.

The other boy faltered awkwardly, looking around and making a move to run away before Jack reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Hey!” Jack said maybe a little big loudly as he shoved the egg into the other boy’s confused hands. “You can have this one. I have like, a bunch already.” He pointed towards the comparatively larger haul of eggs in his basket. This other kid looked like he only had a couple, but Jack quickly noted they were some of the bigger, better looking ones.

“You know….Royce? Reese?” He squinted at the boy’s name-tag, before he patted his shoulder repeatedly. “I’m the best here at hunting the eggs. You’ll get a lot more if we stick together!”

“I….” Rhys’ eyes widened. “You think so?”

“Yeah! We’ll totally win if we work together. What do you say?” Jack stuck out his hand with a broad smile and grabbed the other boy’s, shaking it like the businessmen on mom’s favorite TV shows did.

“I…um, okay!” Rhys agreed quickly after a moment, his expression brightening from worry to excitement. Jack gleefully clapped his hands before taking off with Rhys now trundling after him, eager to make up for lost ground, though most of the other kids still poked about in the grass, settling for the smaller, easier eggs.

Jack soon found Rhys’ taller height and longer arms especially helpful when they found an egg nestled within the bushes or cradled atop a high fence. Rhys even let him sit on top of his shoulders to grab not one, but two silver eggs that had been placed inside branched fork in one of the park’s many oak trees like they belonged in a bird’s nest.

Jack brimmed with excitement, feeling like a treasure hunter in the jungle as he and Rhys found more and more eggs, their baskets piling higher and higher with goodies. Most of the other little kids had grown bored and trundled back to their mothers and fathers to examine their haul. Jack wasn’t satisfied, however, until he and Rhys had combed the park easily twice over, finding a couple eggs that they’d missed over the first time around. They even found two more eggs, this time molded in shiny golden plastic, atop the playground’s biggest climbing wall.

Finally happy, Jack bounded back to the starting line with Rhys by his side, the both of them laughing and joking happily, excited to crack open their newfound treasures. As they chatted, Jack found he was more excited about seeing Rhys open the eggs than he was about his own haul.

Jack didn’t know why he got butterflies every time he saw his new friend smile, but as they plopped down on the grass and started to go through their hoards of candy and eggs, he wanted little more than to see Rhys happy.

Hi sorry this is short! I’ve got a lot of requests to get through but I hope you both enjoy it!

The pictures that Rhys was sending Jack were both a welcome relief and a dirty trick.

One the one hand, he was stuck in the middle of yet another boring-ass meeting and needed some kind of reprieve from yet another department head trying to butter him up through their droning presentation. And the photos Rhys was blowing up his phone with were definitely a lot more interesting than anything these guys had to say or do.

But therein lied the problem.

They were too interesting. In a very specific, very sexy sort of way.

Because Rhys had, somehow, gotten his hands on what looked like a traditional sexy bunny costume, complete with heels and a little fluffy bunny tail. He sat crouched on Jack’s bed, the covers rucked up all around him, suggesting Rhys had changed position plenty while figuring out which Jack might like best.

Of course, Jack liked all of them, each more than the last as he swiped his way through the veritable album Rhys had already sent him. Too much, honestly, if the growing bulge in his pants was any indication. Rhys just looked so damn good in that slick little leotard that showed off his long legs and tattooed shoulders, with soft white bunny ears flopping over his groomed-back hair and a puffy little tail perched just above his perfect butt-cheeks.

He flipped back and forth between the photos, zooming in occasionally on his favorite bits and letting his fantasies run just a little bit wild. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants, but the droning of the executives help tamper his boner just enough that he could disregard it.

At least until his ECHO buzzed with one final picture.

Rhys had pulled aside the fabric of the leotard, just below the fluffy little tail, to reveal the slightest peek of his hole, the ring already glistening with lube even in the dimmed light of the bedroom.

That was the last straw.

When Jack finally got home, he found Rhys lounging on the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows with the smuggest grin Jack had ever seen. And considering Rhys’ history of trickery and taunting? That was really saying something.

“You little brat,” Jack smirked as he shrugged off his jacket and vest, dropping it into a careless pile near the bed. “You knew I was in a meeting, didn’t you?”

He hopped up on the edge of the bed and quickly crawled over to his waiting boyfriend. Rhys grinned and spread his legs, placing both hands atop his knees as Jack settled in between them, pressing a kiss against the man’s chest before lifting his head to land a proper one against his lips.

“Mmm. Maybe,” Rhys mumbled softly, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk. “But being here is much more fun, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, of course it is. But still. Remind me to punish you later for distracting daddy from business.”

“Hmm, okay, lets see if you remember to ‘punish’ me after you’re through rocking your precious little bunny’s world.”

Jack growled in anticipation, his hands settling his hands on Rhys’ waist, finally satisfying his urge to touch the costume he’d been teased with for the past hour.

The leotard was a little less silky than Jack had anticipated, but the bunny ears and tail were perfectly soft and fluffy. He flapped the ears about Rhys head playfully, kissing at the tip of the satiny pink inside.

“You know what they say about bunnies, don’t you sugar?” Jack let the ear slip between his fingers, watching it spring back up atop Rhys’ head. The young man snickered, ears wobbling as he cupped Jack’s face and leaned in, nuzzling their noses together. Jack felt something powdery against his skin, quickly noted the little blush that’d been dotted on the tip of Rhys’ nose.

“Something about high libidos, right? We’ve got a lot in common.” Rhys bit his lower lip as one of Jack’s hands palmed down his stomach towards his crotch, where his cock had swollen and stiffened against the tight fabric holding the shaft flush against his belly. Jack brushed his thumb over the head, feeling the pre-cum seeping through the fabric.

“Nice to know you’re just as ready to hop my bone as I am to stick it in you,” Jack purred, fingers pulling away the crotch of Rhys’ leotard as his other hand dealt with his own pants.

“Well…I didn’t send you those pictures for nothing, after all…” Rhys greedily grinned as his long legs slunk over Jack’s hips, drawing him closer as he pulled him into another hungry kiss.