Tag: fluff

Rhack with “it’s four in the morning, why are you still up” (and maybe the answer is that Rhys is preggo and Jack can’t sleep cuz he’s freaking out?)

this was really cute to write, i’ve been dying for some self indulgent fluff lately orz

featuring jack overreacting and over-worrying about a minor health problem

Usually it was the baby that woke Rhys up in the middle of the night, when it decided to move too quickly or punch him in the bladder. As much as he hated having to waddle around in the dark when he would much rather be sleeping, he didn’t have much of an option unless he wanted to piss the bed. On top of being gross and humiliating, he’d probably never hear the end of it from Jack, who had a hard time keeping his teasing to himself even with an emotionally-ragged, pregnant mate on his arm.  

Rhys pushed himself up into a sitting position with a grunt, hand going to cup the underside of his belly. He tugged the hem of his—no matter how much Jack whined, it was his now—sweater back over his stomach. It clung tight to his skin, valiantly holding onto his new physique. Rhys wondered if it’d hold out all the way to the end of the pregnancy, considering how stretched out it’d already gotten.

The pup squirmed just above Rhys’ belly button, reminding him why he’d awaken in the first place. He whispered softly and patted the spot.

Rhys took as a deep breath as he could manage, preparing himself to slid off the bed and get to his feet. Everything had become a chore lately, it seemed, with his center of gravity thrown off and the weight in his stomach constantly pulling him forward.

He felt around behind him, searching for Jack, hoping his boyfriend could help him to the bathroom, but he found only cold sheets and empty space. He furrowed his brow against his sleepy brain, struggling to comprehend where Jack would have gone.

Rhys turned towards the closed bathroom door, but no telltale sliver of orange light glowed out from underneath. He frowned, before carefully rising to his feet, immediate urge forgotten as he shuffled out into the hallway in search of Jack.

He didn’t have to look far. He found the alpha lying on the couch in the living room with the small side table light on. He could see Jack’s open eyes glittering a split second before Jack shifted, turning around to look at the back of the couch. Rhys sighed, carefully waddling around the coffee table towards him.

“Jack,” Rhys started as he swept over to his boyfriend, sitting heavily at the edge of the couch. “It’s four in the morning, why are you still awake?”

The alpha kept quiet, his eyes purposefully closed and mouth screwed shut. Rhys frowned at the act, scooting closer until his hip pressed against Jack’s back.

“I dunno,” Jack finally admitted when Rhys lightly shook his shoulder, opening his eyes to glare sidelong up at his mate. “Just thinking. CEO stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me. I’m not as dumb as you might think, even with the pregnancy brain.” Rhys rubbed up and down Jack’s arm, eager to calm his alpha’s obvious restless energy—half thanks to instinct, half to his own selfishness. Now that he was awake too, he wouldn’t be able to go to bed properly without Jack by his side.  

Besides, Rhys suspected it wasn’t “CEO stuff” that was keeping his boyfriend awake. Sure, Jack worried about his job and company like any normal alpha, but it would take a real catastrophe to strip even one-tenth of Jack’s wealth and power from him. Anything less wasn’t the sort of thing to keep him up at night.

Rhys sighed, hand falling to carefully grasp Jack’s wrist. The alpha started, finally turning to look properly at Rhys as the omega pressed Jack’s open palm against his belly, not letting him lift it away. Jack rolled onto his back, about to protest.

“Kiddo—“

“Listen, I know you…you’re just worried about me and the pup, aren’t you?” Rhys stated firmly, leaving Jack no space to argue, even as he opened his mouth. “Is it because of what happened?”

Jack grunted, even as his fingers started to rub soothingly against Rhys’ belly. Their pup shifted inside of the omega, responding to his father’s touch with a tiny kick.

“The doctor said I was fine. Remember? He must’ve told you a hundred times because you couldn’t get it in your head that I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack managed to push himself up into a half-sitting position. “Still not ideal to hear my mate’s got something wrong with him.”

“Anemia during pregnancy is hardly rare…It’s not like I’m dying…or that the pup has a second head…I just have to be a little bit careful…” Rhys soothed, fingers stroking through Jack’s hair to help calm the alpha down further. The touching helped—Rhys could already see the muscles in Jack’s face started to relax as he melted into Rhys’ caress and the feeling their pup move in his belly.

“Sorry…” Jack finally sighed, leaning forward until his forehead rested against Rhys’ shoulder. “Sometimes I just…yanno…I can’t stop thinking about what might happen…”

“Shhh.” Rhys wrapped his arms around Jack, nosing against his ear. “Stop thinking of what might happen.”

“But—“

Jack made a move to sit up, but Rhys tightened his grasp, holding him flush against his shoulder until Jack again relented.

“Here’s what will happen,” Rhys crooned as he delicately ran his hands up and down Jack’s back. “I’m gonna be huge and uncomfortable for at least another month or so. Then your doctors are gonna knock me out with those amaaaaazing drugs you promised or I swear I’m gonna break your hand in half. Using my cybernetic.”

Rhys felt Jack smile and chuckle against his shoulder. Rhys smiled himself, eyes fluttering half shut as he let himself imagine.

“And then, you’re going to hold your son in your arms with your fearless, exhausted mate looking on, and it’s going to be perfect.”

Jack’s hands moved between them, softly cupping Rhys’ stomach. The omega felt his son settle down, stretching out into his father’s palms as he hopefully goes back to sleep. Rhys tilted his chin to his chest just as Jack lifted his head, eyes swimming with drowsy happiness.

“You think so, sugar?”

Rhys ruffled Jack’s hair and kissed his temple.

“Of course. I know so. You’re definitely going to cry too.”

Jack snorted, but didn’t refute it. Rhys was looking forward to seeing the CEO of Hyperion crying over their son. He figured the people who have seen Jack cry could be counted on one hand, and he doubted most of them were still alive.  

Rhys let Jack rest against him for a bit longer, touching his belly and nuzzling the side of his neck, before he carefully nudged him away and braced his hand against the back of the couch.

“Now can you please help me to the bathroom? I’ve been needing to pee for like the past ten minutes.”

Jack smirked sleepily as his hands went to Rhys’ waist, righting the omega up on his feet, leading him back to the bedroom only after sneaking a kiss from his nose.

“Can we…you know…after?” Jack purred, finally relaxing properly. Rhys pointedly patted his stomach with a sigh.

“Just cuddling for tonight, handsome. You okay with that?”

Jack’s tired smirk didn’t falter as he nuzzled their cheeks together, telling Rhys that was exactly what he’d been suggesting.

“Sounds good to me, pumpkin.”

I badly wanted to do the prompt “sit down. i’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up’ with modern AU omegaverse Rhack where Rhys has a bad day and Jack comes across him and offers him help. Just an excuse for fluff and Jack being mad at himself for having feelings.

It’d been quite some time since the universe had decided to punish Rhys with such an awful, miserable bitch of a day.

It wasn’t enough that it was raining. Rhys disliked the rain, considering it only fun if you were properly prepared for it, and somehow he always ended up forgetting his umbrella or finding a hole in his rain-boots whenever the weather decided to storm. Rain made biking to work impossible and bus rides all the more unpleasant, as he got packed into a small space with a crowd of other people smelling of grimy rainwater.

No, it wasn’t nearly enough that Rhys had to sit through an entire day of work with clothes soaked to the bone because he didn’t have the luxury of a car or the foresight to bring along rain-appropriate gear in his run to make the bus.

It wasn’t enough that he’d barely been able to make it through the work day without his personal life going to shit. He and Hugo had always been on-again off again, but this time Rhys had thought they could make it work. They’d been seeing each other more often, and Hugo had even taken him out on a couple of dates without Rhys needling him, but any hope at all had been snatched by the breakup text he’d received halfway through his lunch break.

It wasn’t even enough that he’d missed his bus thanks to rain-traffic glutting even the crosswalks in the blocks between the Atlas office and his stop.

No, he also had to trip in his desperate race towards the departing bus, time slowing down as he flailed through the air, his heel breaking and ankle snapping out from under him as he slammed to the wet concrete with a heavy grunt.

The gritty sidewalk ripped through the fabric of his jeans, skidding his knee stinging and bloody. Rhys gasped, his wrists smarting with pain from where he’d tried to break his fall, but it couldn’t compare to the pain now lancing through his rolled ankle.

Part of him wished he could stay motionless on the sidewalk, letting the weight of his horrible day win, but the pounding rain ceaselessly soaked him to the bone, so after a couple of desperate breaths he shakily pushed himself to his feet. The first few attempts to stand resulted in stumbling failure as his ankle and broken shoe protested, throwing off his balance and sending even sharper pain splintering through his leg.

He finally managed to hobble towards the covered bus stop, at this point just desperate to get out of the rain. He landed with a thunk against the cold metal bench, sitting and staring at the splattering raindrops in the gutter for a couple numb moments. The ceaseless sound of the storm against the overhang chipped away at his composure until he slowly curled up into a tight ball and began to cry.

Jack had always enjoyed the rain.

Usually he would drive his car to work, even with its proximity, but rainy days were so rare in Helios that today he’d decided to just hoof it and enjoy the way the rain pattered against his umbrella. It had provided a moment of peace and relaxation earlier before the work day had properly begun, and now, as he walked home in the storm, it helped him to unwind and relax so he could truly enjoy his Friday plans.

Those plans mostly involved dinner, wine, and a couple of hours of his favorite television programs that he needed to get caught up on. He’d stopped by the butchers shop earlier in the week and picked up a real nice cut of top sirloin that would pair nicely with the purple potato mash he’d snagged the recipe for and the pinot noir he’d just received from his monthly wine subscription. Nisha had gifted it to him as a bit of a joke, to poke fun at his recent promotion and nearly doubled salary, but he was really enjoying it. It gave him an excuse to cook something to pair alongside it anyway.

The thought of warm food and good wine carried him through the rain steadily pounding the sidewalk. He whistled pleasantly to himself as his rain-boots slapped through the puddles gathering in dips and cracks in the concrete, simultaneously enjoying the walk and eager to get home to his waiting dinner plans.

However, when he reached the block where his apartment complex sat, he found himself slowing to a stop in his tracks, his nostrils flaring as he picked up on a troubling scent.

Jack liked to think of himself pretty on top of the pack when it came to the informal alpha pecking order. He’d always had sharp instincts and an even sharper sense of smell that had served him well both in his professional and romantic life. He could sniff out fear and arousal in equal measure, so even through the smell of wet concrete and urban exhaust he could pick up on the scent of an omega in distress.

It didn’t take him long to zero in on the source. He sniffed, following his nose around the little metal canopy hanging over the bus stop to find the omega sitting on the bench, curled up into a little ball with his arms wrapped tight around his knees.

Jack paused, watching, reading the situation. There was barely anybody else around, and a quick look told him there wasn’t a bus coming either. The omega hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy sniffling and rubbing his face against his soaked jeans, so if Jack wanted to, he could easily make an escape and hurry on to his apartment. After all, Jack hadn’t gotten to his position within Hyperion by caring about other people’s feelings.

But the sad, pitiful little smell drifting off of the omega tugged at his reluctant heart.

“Uh, hey,” Jack started, only for the omega to practically jump out of his skin at the sound. Jack frozen instinctively holding up his hands as the omega whirled to look at him, trying to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he quickly apologized as the omega’s reddened, tearful eyes looked him up and down. His expression flickered between annoyance, fear, and confusion before settling on something Jack might describe as a cross between a ruffled peacock and a wet puppy dog.

“What…what do you want?” The omega stammered as he quickly scrubbed the tears spilling down his puffy cheeks.

“I just….you look pretty wrecked, and I just wanted to….I dunno, I just wanted to make sure you’re like. Okay, or something?” Jack didn’t know why he was suddenly getting so tongue-tied. It was just a stupid crying omega.

“Okay…” The omega snorted dryly. “I wish I could say that…”

Jack noted the kid’s shoes, specifically the broken heel on the right one. Suddenly the ripped jeans and bloodied knee made a lot more sense.

“Took a lil’ tumble, huh?” Jack pointed towards the young man’s leg. “Looks pretty banged up. Can you even put weight on that thing?”

“I…it’s really none of your business…” the omega grumbled, even as he untangled himself from the little ball. Jack watched as he stretched out his legs and tried to put pressure on the injured leg, only for a cry of pain to rip through him as he winced back into a curled position. The agonized whine yanked at Jack’s heart, spurring him instinctively closer. Before he could stop himself he’d already put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, feeling him twitch underneath his palm, though Rhys didn’t look up from where he’d cupped his hand over his mouth.

“Crap, kiddo, you didn’t have to….jeez…” Jack didn’t know if he could or should touch the omega any further, considering the pained reaction.

“I….I think I twisted my ankle or….I…I don’t know…” The omega mumbled miserably into his hands, and as Jack watched new tears welled up in his eyes, quickly spilling over as sobs leaked between his fingers. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“H-Hey, don’t, come on.” Jack glanced about, trying to think of a solution as his instincts bugged him to help. “You know what, I…I live right here just….just let me take you up to dry or something, ‘kay?” Jack tried, pointing down the street in the vague direction of his apartment complex as the omega wiped his eyes, sniffling between his hands.

“Okay…” He agreed pathetically.

“There’s a good boy,” Jack crooned as he rubbed the omega’s shoulder, sticking out his hand. “Name’s Jack, by the way. Who do I have the honor of rescuing today?”

That earned him a weak little chuckle as the omega limply returned the handshake. Jeez, his hands were cold.

“It’s Rhys…can we go inside? I’m f-freezing out here…” He stuttered, Jack’s comparatively warm grip startling him. The alpha let go and patted his knee, before crouching down close to the shivering omega.

“Sure. C’mon, kiddo, I got ya. Just put all your weight on me, all right?” Jack coached as he slid his arm underneath Rhys’ armpits as he crouched down next to him. Rhys slumped against him, his arm curling around Jack’s shoulder as the alpha hoisted him to his feet. Rhys wobbled on his one foot, the other curled up above the ground. Jack grunted softly at the added weight but held firm, more than strong enough to support the omega’s fairly light build.

Hobbling the last couple feet to the door to his penthouse was a little bit harder, and Jack considered more than once just hefting the omega up off his feet and carrying him the rest of the way. But Rhys was already pretty skittish and shaken, and Jack worried he might flip his lid if he decided to pick him up. So he bore through it, taking each stumbling step one at a time as Rhys hopped along as best as he could, until they got to the front door and quickly made their way inside and out of the rain.

Water dripped off the poor soaking omega as Jack guided him into the elevator that would take them to the very top of the apartment where Jack’s unit sat. He felt thankful for the mirrored walls of the elevator, letting him rest Rhys against them as they rode up to Jack’s floor. The proximity of his apartment with the elevator shaft had long been a point of disgruntlement on Jack’s part, but for the first time, he was grateful, considering he wouldn’t have to lug Rhys around much further.

“Almost there, kiddo,” Jack grunted as they thumped the last couple of feet to the apartment entrance. He leaned Rhys against the doorjamb briefly to grab his keys from his pocket and jimmy them into the lock. He pushed the door open and re-adjusted Rhys into his grip, supporting him inside.  

Jack’s apartment wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place in the world. There was only a single couch in the living room, and it wasn’t particularly soft, as Jack far preferred the aesthetic of sleek leather to cotton or suede. The pillows on his bed were fluffy and comfortable, though, and he had a couple of extra blankets in the hall closet that’d help warm the little omega up.

He supported Rhys until they got to the couch, where Jack slowly eased him down, sure to keep the weight off his ankle until he was nice and settled.

“Just uh…stay put, all right? I’m gonna grab you some things to help you warm up.” He awkwardly patted Rhys’ knee before excusing himself to gather the blankets and pillows and anything else he felt the omega might need.

He didn’t know if Rhys would find it weird to use bedding that smelled like a strange alpha, but the entire apartment probably smelled like him, so there was little he could do about it. He grabbed one armful of pillows from the bed before retrieving three heavy wool blankets from the hall closet. For good measure, he snatched the unicorn plush he’d ostensibly bought for Angel but ended up keeping himself when she’d outgrown it.

Who knew. Maybe the kid would get a kick out of it. It smelled like lavender and Jack had found it helped to calm him down when he’d had a crappy day.

Rhys had shifted to lean against the arm of the couch by the time Jack returned. He dumped most of the pillows and blankets onto the coffee table as he tried to figure out how exactly to situate them around Rhys’ form. The omega tried to help, but despite the warmth of the apartment his fingers were still pretty numb and cold, so Jack took over and tucked the blankets around Rhys’ until he was nice and wrapped up like a sad little burrito.

Jack planted his hands on his hips, admiring his work.

“There. Now that you’re warming up…just sit tight. I’m gonna make you some hot chocolate and fix you right up.”

Honestly, Jack could’ve probably gotten away with just warming the omega up and maybe elevating the ankle, but the promises just kept spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Just as he thought about taking it back, Rhys snuffled and nodded with a tiny “okay,” so Jack set off to the kitchen to make the omega’s drink.

He didn’t have hot chocolate mix, but he had a fancy milk chocolate bar he’d picked up out of curiosity from the grocery store the other day and a half used jug of whole milk, as well as some whipped cream leftover from when he and Nisha had experimented with food in bed a whole…god, months ago. He hoped it was still good. The last thing he wanted was to poison the already vulnerable and injured omega in his care.

Care…christ, he wasn’t a frikkin nurse. This was why he didn’t date omegas. They did things to the brain. Made it so he couldn’t think straight.  

He melted the chocolate in the double boiler, whisking in the milk as soon as it got nice and silky. A sweet, rich smell filled the kitchen, though Jack could still make out the scent of his guest in the other room.

Jack sprayed some whipped cream on his tongue, testing its freshness before using it to top off Rhys’ mug. He crushed another square of chocolate with the flat of a knife and sprinkled it atop the mound of cream, for good measure.

It was a hot cocoa as handsome as he was, and definitely good enough to lift the rain-soaked omega’s spirits. Jack proudly strode back out into the living room, where Rhys still stared numbly at the wall.

“C’mon, princess, this’ll do you good,” Jack crooned as he waiting for Rhys to respond, carefully depositing the mug into his hands when he finally blinked and nodded at the alpha.

Rhys looked down at the mound of whipped cream rising up from the cup. His nostrils flare softly, sniffing at the decadent aroma. Jack watched closely as Rhys brought the hot cocoa up to his mouth, a slip of pink tongue popping out to lick the peak of the whipped cream up off the mound.

Rhys smacked his lips softly, before taking a generous sip of the drink proper. Jack rubbed his hands nervously together as he watched Rhys swallow it down.

“It’s good, yeah?” He finally asked, unable to read the omega’s expression.

“Yeah.” Rhys licked the whipped cream off his lips, smacking them with a soft smile that had Jack’s heart leaping.

He placed his hand firmly on his chest. Easy.

“Anything else I can do for you, kiddo? Hot chocolate, blankets, a nice warm place to hunker down in—should consider yourself pretty damn spoiled, huh?”

“I…I guess so…” Rhys carefully cradled the mug to his chest, like it were his last match out in a snowstorm. “Thank you…you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yeah, well. Gotta get my one good deed for the year outta the way, right?” Jack joked, before his eye fell to Rhys’ ankle poking out from underneath the hems of the blankets.

“Should probably do something about that leg though, hm? I mean…if you don’t mind…” Rhys blinked, eyes dazed, before they followed Jack’s finger.

“Oh. Right,” Rhys chuckled weakly after taking another sip. “It’s funny…I almost totally forgot about it…”

“You forgot about your twisted ankle?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “God damn…I must make a pretty mind-blowing hot chocolate.”

“It…I mean it is really good.” Rhys licked his lips. God, he looked cute. Jack just wanted to eat him up.

He sniffed and shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts out of his mind, but he was fighting a losing battle against his more sensitive instincts. All right—he compromised with himself. Take care of the ankle, then Rhys will be all fixed and ready to go so Jack could move onto his actual plans for the evening.

“Lemme see what I have in my medicine cabinet….or if you think you can handle a lil bit of cold after what you’ve been through, I can try to put some ice on it.”

“I…I think I can handle some ice. If you don’t mind,” Rhys quickly added.

“Sure, sure. Just sit tight, kitten, I’ll be right back.”

Jack had a couple of cold packs on hand prepared for when Angel’s mom dropped her off for weekends. The kid was going through an outdoors-y phase and always wanted to go to the park or hike a trail, and no trip like that would be complete without a decent picnic lunch.

He found a roll of gauze in the medicine cabinet to help hold the pack against Rhys’ ankle, and with his arms full of supplies he finally returned to the omega, who’d just about drained half of his hot chocolate and looked a lot more lively and rosy-cheeked than beforehand.

Jack crouched down between the coffee table and couch, carefully sliding his hand under Rhys’ calf and lifting it up until his foot rested on the glass surface of the table. He removed the kid’s broken shoe and soggy sock, setting them off to the side as he got to work. He carefully wrapped the cold pack around the most swollen part of Rhys’ ankle, holding it there as he wrapped the gauze secure but not too tight around it, tearing off the end with his teeth and pinning it down with the little metal clip.

“It’s a bit of a hack-job, but it should do for now.” Jack carefully patted Rhys’ knee before straightening up, glancing over everything he’d done for the omega. He felt pretty good about himself, and Rhys looked far happier than he had all sad and alone and wet on the bench.

“Thanks…” Rhys whispered softly, voice still hoarse from the crying but far more relaxed than before. Jack could hear the gratitude laced through his words, and it warmed his heart and boosted his pride.

He really was a damn good alpha.

Jack ended up putting on the television for Rhys, not sure exactly what to do with him now that he’f fixed him up and kept him warm. Rhys watched in silence, curling up underneath his blankets as Jack sat on the other side of the couch from him, more watching the omega than the program.

He checked his phone for the time. It was nearing six thirty already. Surely the kid had a family or a mate or a roomie or something who might be wondering where he’d gone. He hadn’t seen Rhys try to text anyone all night, though. Maybe the kid had no where else to go.

Not that that was Jack’s problem. Nice as it had been to take care of Rhys, he still had plans he wanted to get to. And he hadn’t exactly been planning a dinner for two.

Jack excused himself to go to the bathroom, just to get a little space to think without omega scent twisting everything all around.

As nice a guest as Rhys had been, Jack just couldn’t have a strange omega staying in his house all night. It was weird. And Angel’s mom was dropping her off early the next morning. He didn’t want to have to explain why he had another man over to her if he didn’t have to.

It wasn’t a dick move, not really. Rhys was dry, bandaged-up, and full of gourmet hot chocolate. And Jack was already planning to pay for his ride home and help the kid back down the stairs. Hell, he’d already considered giving the omega one of his spare umbrellas as a token of goodwill. He’d done more than enough that could have been reasonably expected of him, anyone would admit that. Most people out there would’ve just breezed by and totally ignored an injured omega crying on a bus stop—instincts or not, city-life tended to give them all tunnel-vision—but he hadn’t. He’d offered up his home and his food and his attention for a total stranger, and he felt pretty damn good about his heroics.

He rinsed off his hands, shaking the remaining soap from his fingers. He nodded to himself in the mirror. All right. Time to call the kid an Uber and wish him the best.

Jack’s mouth opened as he re-entered the living room, all ready to tell Rhys he needed to book it, only to find the omega slumped against the arm of the couch, drooling all over the pillow hugged to his face as he lightly snored.

Jack froze in surprise, almost feeling affronted at the turn of events. Just when he’d been about to take action, Rhys had the audacity to fall asleep.

Jack knew he could just wake him up and tell him to take a hike—after all, it was his place, and Rhys couldn’t just shack up in here just ‘cause he was tired.

But as he crept closer, and that damn omega scent settled nice and content inside his nose, he got lost in the pretty features of Rhys’ face. The pink lips slightly parted, the fine little lashes that kissed his cheeks. The way his hair fell a little messy around his face as it dried from the rain.

Jack scowled at the warmth in his heart, but he couldn’t stop himself as he slid his arms underneath Rhys’ sleeping form, carefully lifting him up to rest against his chest. The omega stirred only slightly to nuzzle against Jack’s chest, right above his hammering heart as he carried Rhys to the bedroom. It’d be a lot warmer and more comfortable there than the couch, he reasoned. And big enough that he could keep a respectable distance between them, unless Rhys turned out to be a cuddler.  

Jack blushed as he carefully slid Rhys underneath the sheets, the omega instantly curling up in the warmth and comforting scent as a sleepy smile curled over his lips. Jack slapped himself lightly on the cheek, trying to clear his head, but to no avail. He was stuck.

Oh well.

Hopefully Angel wouldn’t ask too many questions.  

“Gwanwyn”

The birds chirped happily around him, on occasion fluttering down to the ground to carefully pick at the crumbs Cyrus left in the grass. He giggled at them, getting down on his belly to watch as they hopped along, pecking at the bits of crust and apple. Cyrus broke off a proper piece of his half-eaten tart, and was just about to hold it out to the boldest chickadee when a sudden, crunching footprint sent the birds fluttering away.

Cyrus pushed himself up into a sitting position, turning around towards the sound of the footprints only to see a man standing on the edge of the forest surrounding the stream, glancing down on Cyrus with a puzzled look on his face.

“Hello?” He spoke up after a moment of quiet, trying to be polite. He didn’t feel afraid, just curious about the man’s sudden appearance. Cyrus pushed himself up this feet to get a closer look, soon able to make out the antlers branching off from the man’s head.

“Hello…” He slowly shuffled down out from between the trees towards Cyrus, swirling leaves trailing off his back like a cape.

Just some spring fluff I really wanted to write for the Hart of Thorn AU (aka wendigo!AU) where Cyrus meets Tim for the first time, as he travels to Jack for the equinox. Just some fluff. For more info on this AU look to this fic first!

Cyrus hadn’t had many friends back at their old home.

Most of the other kids in the village stayed away from him, and whenever he did find somebody willing to play with him, the moment they found out who his mama was they changed completely. They’d say horrible, mean things about his mama, things that made Cyrus feel horrible and sick deep in his tummy.

Your mom slept with the devil! Your family is cursed! You’re a demon boy!

He didn’t like remembering what they’d said, how much those words had hurt him. It still hurt, even though the bullies were far away. He’d probably never see them again, but thinking about them still made him feel sad.

But his mama had always been there when he’d run home crying, to give him hugs and make him a snack until he felt better.  

Cyrus didn’t miss the old village. Not even their old house and garden. He’d liked living there with just the two of them, but he remembered too many nights wrapped up in blankets, listening to his mama crying or talking to himself.

He didn’t like remembering that either.

Cyrus would much rather think about how pretty the forest they lived in now was. Especially now that the snow had melted and the flowers and trees were starting to grow back. His mama, who had kept him close throughout most of the wintertime, now let him out to explore the forest on his own and play without supervision. Cyrus still liked to take walks with his mama, especially to pick fruit or flowers, but he also had fun trundling through the woods alone. He had plenty of favorite spots—like the oak tree with the big branches low enough to the ground to climb, or the strawberry bushes frequented by little robins and mother rabbits—but now that the water had thawed, he particularly loved going down to wade about in the stream.

It trickled through the rocky waterbed a little ways away from Cyrus’ home, wending its way through overhanging trees and flowering bushes and shining like bright crystal in the sunlight.

When the snow had first thawed and his mama had allowed him to finally explore the woods alone, he’d gone there and, to his surprise, found a couple of nice people bathing in the stream. He’d hidden a bit at first, worried they were from the village, but then he’d witnessed one of the trees over-looking the stream curl and change into a pretty lady with purple hair that matched the tree’s flowers, giggling happily as she joined the group in the stream.

When Cyrus had accidentally stepped on a twig while looking through the bushes, he’d thought the people would either run away or try to catch him, but they’d merely called to him with soft smiles and gentle gestures, welcoming him as he shuffled down the shore to crouch by the water. Cyrus’ nerves had washed away completely as the group had gathered around him, cooing softly as they introduced themselves.

When he’d asked, one of them—slim and pale, with wispy pink hair—softly explained they were nymphs, not humans after all. Cyrus had never heard of nymphs before, as all he’d been taught about in church had been demons and angels, but he quickly learned he liked them quite a bit. And they liked him! They were very friendly, much nicer than the villagers, and none of them said mean things about him or his mama. Instead they’d weaved him flower crowns and picked him fruit and sat with him besides the sparkling stream, listening patiently as he told them all his favorite stories, even inventing some new ones.

Whenever he was allowed to go out on his own he visited them, though whenever his parents came looking for them they would change back into trees, leaving Cyrus adorned with fluttering leaves and flowers as his mama called him in for dinner. He didn’t understand why they didn’t want his mama to see them, but if they were shy he didn’t want to force them to meet.

It could be his little secret, for now.

One day, Cyrus packed up a small lunch in a piece of cloth, taking nuts and a couple of apple tarts from the makeshift larder his mama had set up in the main room of his dad’s lair. The tarts had been made from some of the apples given to him by the nymphs, so he was eager to share his family’s cooking with his new friends.

However, when he arrived at the stream, the nymphs were nowhere to be found. He didn’t even recognize the usual trees that changed back into when they were hiding or sleeping, which had him puzzling. Eventually, he decided to just sit by the stream and eat his lunch as he watched silvery fish flicker through the water and little crabs eat the moss off the rocks. He left one of the tarts alone, still holding out hope that his friends would show up and want to take a bite.

The birds chirped happily around him, on occasion fluttering down to the ground to carefully pick at the crumbs Cyrus left in the grass. He giggled at them, getting down on his belly to watch as they hopped along, pecking at the bits of crust and apple. Cyrus broke off a proper piece of his half-eaten tart, and was just about to hold it out to the boldest chickadee when a sudden, crunching footprint sent the birds fluttering away.

Cyrus pushed himself up into a sitting position, turning around towards the sound of the footprints only to see a man standing on the edge of the forest surrounding the stream, glancing down on Cyrus with a puzzled look on his face.

“Hello?” He spoke up after a moment of quiet, trying to be polite. He didn’t feel afraid, just curious about the man’s sudden appearance. Cyrus pushed himself up this feet to get a closer look, soon able to make out the antlers branching off from the man’s head.

“Hello…” He slowly shuffled down out from between the trees towards Cyrus, swirling leaves trailing off his back like a cape.

“Are you a nymph too, mister?”

“No, not exactly. But close enough.” The man leaned over him, smiling warmly. “And what are you?”

“Me? I’m Cyrus!” He held out his hand, remembering his manners. The man blinked at it for a moment, before chuckling, gently reaching out to shake it.

“A Cyrus, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them before.”

“I’m the first of my kind!” He exclaimed happily.

“Really? How neat.” The man crouched besides him, getting level with Cyrus. His cloak of leaves rustled against the grass. “They call me ‘Tim.’ I’m the first of my kind, too.”

“Really? Cool!” Cyrus sniffed as Tim got closer, smelling roses and fresh grass and fruit. The rest of the forest had a similar scent, but it was a lot stronger coming off of the man’s chestnut fur. Cyrus saw Tim’s nostrils flare, and quickly remembered he still held the last wrapped tart tucked into his arm. He pulled the cloth away from the sticky pastry and held it out with both hands.

“Do you want to have some? I was gonna share it with my friends but they’re not here today. My mama made it!”

“Well, how can I let down such a kind offer from such a little gentleman?” Tim gingerly took the little tart from Cyrus’ hands, picking curiously at the flaky pastry. He sniffed at the caramelized apple, sticking out his tongue to lick the sticky fruit, before taking a bite big enough that Cyrus could see his long, sharp fangs.

“You’ve got teeth just like my dad does!” He noted, tapping his own lips, as the man finished off the treat.

Tim looked a lot like his dad, in fact. His fur and hair looked a lot cleaner than Jack’s, though, even when mama made him take a bath and spent the rest of the evening combing the tangles out of his hair. His features were softer than his dad’s, cheeks spotted with light freckles, and he didn’t wear any of those smelly bones around his jaw and neck. Similar antlers sprouted out from Tim’s hair, but as Cyrus watched little vines curled around them and popped into little pink flower-buds. He gasped, pointing.

“You’re magic like my dad is too!” He reached out his little hands, wanting to touch. Tim chuckled gently, lowering his head so Cyrus could grab at his antlers and get a closer look at the flowers.

“Sounds like your dad and I have a lot in common…”

“You do! You guys should hang out!” Cyrus happily brushed his fingers alone the smooth prongs of the man’s antlers, gasping when one of the flowers came away in his palm. It felt warm, like he’d gotten hold of a little baby bird.

“We should….perhaps you should show me where he lives? I’d like to meet him. Maybe get more of these apple tarts.” Tim licked the sticky crumbs from his fingers, before carefully rising to his feet, bending over to offer Cyrus his hand.

Without a moment’s hesitation Cyrus took it, and together they trundled back down the stream, along the path the boy now knew by heart back home.

“Are the birdies your friends?” Cyrus asked as he looked up at Tim, noticing the little bluebirds that had landed atop his antlers as they walked. They chirped a little song together, some of them even fluttering down to land on Tim’s shoulders, picking leftover crumbs from his fur.

“You could say that. They help me send messages. See things I might not be able to see from down here on the ground.”

“Oh! They’re like daddy’s ravens!” Cyrus nodded in understanding. As if to emphasize, the tree branch in front of their path suddenly shook with the weight as the familiar bull raven landed upon it. He cawed curiously, milky eye rolling to fix on the boy and his new companion.

“Look! There’s one now!” Cyrus giggled happily, waving to the bird. “Dad must want me to come home…well we’re headed there anyway!” He said, half to Tim and half to the raven, who continued to flutter along the tree branches until the pair arrived to the huge, hollowed-out tree that housed Jack’s lair.

“Mama, mama!” Cyrus called as he led Tim right up to the wooden door, rapping his knuckles happily upon it. He waited patiently, bobbing up and down on his feet, until the door finally unlatched and creaked open.

“Cyrus, you don’t have to knock so loud, I can hear you clearly and—oh.” Rhys stopped just as he pushed open the door, eyes wide as he stared at the spirit towering over his son. Tim’s lips curled in a friendly smile, waving.

“Mama this is Tim, he’s my new friend! I wanted to take him to meet dad cause…” Cyrus trailed off as Jack suddenly pushed himself up behind Rhys, arms wrapping around the omega’s hips as he rested his chin on his mate’s shoulder

“Come on, honeycake, don’t be so—“ Jack’s toothy, playful smile extinguished the moment he noticed the other man at his doorstop.

“Oh great, it’s you,” he growled, furred ears bristling, “thought I might have a few more days before you showed up.”

“You guys already know each other?” Cyrus exclaimed up, looking from his dad, to Tim, then back again.  Jack grunted, angrily sticking out his lower lip as Tim chuckled, hiding his mouth coyly behind his claw.

“Yeah, um…I think I need an explanation too…” Rhys tilted his head to glare at Jack, who huffed in annoyance.

“I was going to explain to you both eventually, but well…I just…”

“Perhaps we should go inside, first?” Tim spoke up, in mediation. He patted Cyrus on the shoulder. “Besides, this one promised me more of those delicious apple tarts.”

“I…s-sure, by all means, Mr….?” Rhys started, nudging the grumbling Jack back and letting Tim duck under the doorframe into the lair.

“Timothy. You must be Cyrus’ parent?”

“Yeah, um. My name is Rhys…” He carefully took of of Tim’s proffered claws, shaking it. “Are you…what’s your relation to Jack?”

“Oh, it’s a little complicated…isn’t it, Jack?” Tim snickered, winking at the other spirit still huffing and growling over the omega’s shoulder. Rhys followed his glance, looking at his beastly mate and waiting for an explanation. Jack hissed between his teeth, one hand on his hip as the other raked through his messy hair, annoyed with all the eyes suddenly on him, waiting.

“I….I guess…if you had to put a name on it…” he mumbled reluctantly. “You could call him my brother.”

Rhys wears a scarf and Jack ponders its existence, the fic

Unbeta’d cause I should be in bed

Rhys is wearing a scarf, and it makes Jack—who has through constant exposure come to memorize the two or three outfits he cycles through—pause in the middle of his usual grunted greeting to the PA as Rhys enters the office.

He puzzles over its existence as Rhys settles himself at the slightly smaller desk to Jack’s right and begins to take his personal affects out of his satchel. It was dusty yellow and faded darker at the delicately frayed tips, Fuzzy spots dot the fabric, probably some kind of pattern that Jack can’t make out at this distance.

He finally gets a good look at it when Rhys finishes unpacking his bag and goes to make Jack coffee. Up until a couple weeks back he’d had Rhys fetch coffee on the way to work from one of the Hub’s cafes, but thanks to bottleneck in the elevators it’d arrived cold more times than Jack was happy with. So he’d had the little machine, complete with sugar and cream thanks to Rhys’ bitching, installed in a spare nook of space to ensure it’d come piping hot and in constant supply.

Jack hated cold coffee almost as much as he hated sweet coffee. Whenever Rhys had gotten tied up and it’d gone cold and sour he’d refused to drink it and then ended up irritable and unproductive when he had to throw it away. Sometimes he’d sent it flying out the airlock in an attempt to cheer himself up. But the coffee machine was a much better solution and made him infinitely happier than watching globs of brown liquid float out into space like beads of oil in water.

Rhys places Jack’s mug on his desk, but even the distracting aroma of fresh brew can’t tempt Jack away from stopping Rhys’ with a sharp point to the neck.

“What’s with this frilly lil number, kiddo?”

Rhys’ eyebrow raises as he fingers the scarf at his neck, tucking his chin to look down. From this close Jack can see the pattern—stylized bees crawling over broken pieces of honeycomb, arranged diagonally from one another.

“This? I was just doing a little bit of shopping. Sometimes I like to treat myself a little bit on payday.”

“You know, Helios is kept at a constant 23 degrees, right? You don’t have to bundle up.”

Rhys smirks.

“Obviously this is for fashion’s sake. See? It matches my outfit.”

The outfit in question is one of the ones Jack has otherwise memorized. He’s never said it outright, but he far prefers this one to the blue and red one he wears a lot more often. The vest has been switched out for a suit jacket with gold trim defining the lapels, which matches the silky yellow shirt Rhys keeps tucked into a pair of fitted black pants. A golden clip engraved in Hyperion’s name usually holds a black tie flat against his chest, but that’s been left home in favor of the scarf, apparently.

The whole ensemble feels a lot more coherent than the other outfit, and matches better with the bright chrome yellow of his cybernetic. Even with the latest addition, that Jack’s still busy trying to make up his mind about.

“You know you’re gonna end up starting a trend, pumpkin. What am I gonna do if next week everyone on the damn space station is wearing those frilly things?”

“It’s not frilly, actually, its very masculine, and secondly do you really think me wearing it is gonna convince all of Helios it’s the next new trend?”

Jack rests his chin in his hand, leaning forward on the desk.

“I dunno, I mean you’re basically second banana around here, maybe people are gonna see it as a chance to ape you and try to curry my favor.”

“See, though, that’s why you picked me for my brains and not my looks, right?”

“Hm, little of column A, little of column B, I think.”

“You know no one else on Helios can claim to have the whole package the way I can.” Rhys smirks, before turning Jack’s holographic screen around and tapping out a couple of things. The CEO hisses a little in protest but Rhys ignores him as he pulls open Jack’s e-mail.

“I sent you the applications for the temp secretary by the way. I’m just going to open them up for you now so you don’t forget.”

Jack continues grumbling, but lets Rhys finish, in the meantime taking a closer look at the scarf. He’d tied it kind of like an ascot about his neck, though the knot is fancier, almost braided. Jack wonders how many times Rhys had tied and untied it, practicing, wanting to get that perfect look. Sometimes he envisions what his PA did at home for his daily routines, meticulously combing over his look until it’s perfect enough to show off for the rest of the day. He likes to think of them in contrast because really, Rhys is basically himself but with more to prove. Jack speaks his confidence through bravado and violence, whereas Rhys communicates it with more subtlety, in his wardrobe and hair and the way he addresses Jack, acquiescent yet often bold enough to be casual.  

Jack sniffs as Rhys turnes the screen back towards him. “Is that a new cologne?”

Rhys looks down at himself.

“Yeah. Vanilla and teakwood. Imported from Calliope. Do you like it?”

Jack snorts. “Does it matter if I like it?”

“Guess not.” Rhys shrugs, placing his hands on his hips. “Can I get back to work now?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack waves him off. “Get outta my face.”

It wasn’t unusual for them to spend the majority of the early morning in silence, each invested in their specific workload. After lunch they typically got a little more talkative, with the bulk of the day’s business done and lunch in their stomachs. Jack had sunk a pretty penny into HR’s budget in order to up productivity after 1pm, but it didn’t really apply much when you were at the top of the food chain. No one was going to get on Jack for lazing off in the latter part of the day. With the exception of Rhys, and he only got away with it because he was cute arm candy and Jack didn’t want to go through with the trouble of training a new PA.

So yeah, the quiet that falls after Rhys returns to his desk is normal. But as Jack continues sitting, not talking, he finds his brain drifting from the temp applications on his monitor and back towards Rhys’ new accessory.

Seriously, where had that come from? Despite what he said earlier, Rhys is more a follower than a trendsetter, always dressing in line with the latest style and fashion popular on Helios first before he made any personal adjustments, and yet Jack hasn’t seen a thing about scarves in the latest issue of the Hyperion catalogue he’d flipped through one bored night. Had he picked it up from some other company or some foreign culture on a distant planet? He’d seen some bandits with scarves around their necks but they were dirty, raggedy things with neither the finery nor style of Rhys’, knotted about their throats as if flimsy fabric could protect against a well-aimed Hyperion pistol or a camp-wide firebombing.

Jack looks at Rhys’ from the corner of his eyes, moving his fingers about the screen and absently tapping about so his PA won’t suspect he’s staring.

His periphery affords little more than blotches of color, but the bright yellow of the scarf is easy to pick out among the charcoal and minute gold of Rhys’ outfit. Jack keeps seeing the design to the accessory, imprinted in his eyes like he’d looked at the sun for too long. It dogs him like he’s some house-wife locked up and driven crazy by the intricacies of her kitchen wallpaper. The pattern of bees buzzes around his head, stinging him with questions.

On top of it all, the little whiff of cologne lingers around his sinuses like a building headache. Distracting him even more.

Thanks Rhys.

Jack sips half of his coffee and tries to focus on work, on the names and training and job experience of the applications swimming in blue on his monitor, but he can’t stop thinking and feeling and seeing and smelling.

So he kicks away from his desk, chair squeaking as it wheels out and back. Rhys doesn’t look up until Jack has already stomped around besides his desk, and doesn’t say anything until Jack puts both hands on his shoulders and makes Rhys stand up and face him.

“What? Do you need another cup of coffee? You can just ask me, you know, you don’t have to come over and haul me up like this.” Rhys places his hands gingerly on Jack’s wrists, voice cool as the slight surprise starts to fade from his expression. He raisea his eyebrow when Jack doesn’t answer right away, and looks down when he sees the CEO’s eyes are fixed on his scarf.

“Are you really…? Okay, I mean, if it bothers you that much I can take it off but really Jack, there’s nothing effeminate or lame about wearing a scarf—“

“No,” Jack murmurs, one hand sliding from Rhys’ shoulder to trail along the main knot of the scarf. He inhales deeply. The smell of the cologne is even stronger here, around Rhys’ neck, drawing him even closer.  

Rhys’ throat bobs as Jack toys with the scarf, but he’s not afraid. Jack has seen Rhys afraid, he gets all bone-white in the face and his lips draw tight over his teeth in an effort not to scream, but no, right now Rhys’ cheeks are all pink and his eyes are slightly scrunched and his teeth peek slightly over his lower lip as he nibbles it.

Jack’s fingers curl into the scarf, between the scented fabric and warm skin. He isn’t known for restraint, and Rhys should know this.

And yet he still gasps when Jack leans in and presses their lips together.

Jack might’ve kissed Rhys once before, if he could trust his memory from the night of the last quarterly gala. Rhys insisted he did and Jack had denied it vehemently so his PA wouldn’t have fuel to tease him. But the touch of Rhys’ soft lips against his own is definitely igniting some old feelings.

They breath softly when they finally part. Rhys’ hands have fallen from Jack’s wrist to his chest, fingers kneading Jack’s sweater like he’s deciding between pushing Jack away or yanking him forward for another kiss. His eyes look a little dazed, a far cry from the sharp over focus he usually gets at work. Jack rubs his shoulder, keeping him close.

“I like it, by the way.”

“Hm?” Rhys replies absently. Jack leans in and rests their foreheads together.

“The cologne. I like it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jack strokes the scarf as Rhys slides his arms around his shoulders, hugging him loose about the neck.

“I like this too.” He flicks the wispy end of the garment. “You should wear this more often.”

Rhys’ lips curl up in a gentle smile.

“If it gets you to kiss me, then I might have to.”

some jack/rhys mpreg fluff based on talk last night about bean bag nests….also this bed. Enjoy!

When Rhys first shouted for help, Jack thought his heart might fall right out through his ass.

Having a pregnant omega on-hand left his nerves a little frazzled, and as Rhys grew closer to his due date, Jack found himself even more on edge than he had beforehand. So when he heard Rhys shouting from somewhere within the depths of the penthouse he’d dropped the knife he’d been chopping onion with like it burned him and took off out of the kitchen.

He raced down the hallways, nose expertly keyed in to Rhys’ scent as he traced him to the latest addition to their home, a formerly unused room that the omega had quickly transformed into his own personal “den”of sorts. Rhys had grown tired of Jack disturbing the nests he made in the bed and closet and insisted on a proper place where he could cuddle up and be alone if he needed.

Personally, Jack thought he’d done a great job with translating Rhys’ needs into reality. He’d filled the room with cupboards and drawers full of pillows and blankets and clothes he didn’t wear anymore, enough that Rhys couldn’t possibly complain he didn’t have adequate nest-building materials. He’d even cut a hole in the floor for the sake of a comfortably sunken bed and filled the damn thing with the plumpest, softest pillows he could find in all the colors and patterns Rhys liked best. And he’d taken to it like a skag to organ-meat, which delighted Jack’s ego.

Rhys spent most days hunkered down in the room, especially when he felt particularly moody or sore, and Jack would try to leave him alone until Rhys purposefully sought him out and whined until the alpha joined him.

Another distressed cry cut through the air just as Jack opened the door, eyes preemptively peeled for his mate and any potential sources of danger, but the room looked the same as it always did, with there was no Rhys laying in pain on the floor or anything like that.

What he did see, however, was a pair of legs stuck awkwardly out of the pile of beanbags, yellow socks wiggling in distress.

“Rhys?”

“Jack!” Came a muffled cry from somewhere beneath the heap. The legs kicked out vaguely in his direction. “Can you…um…help me out?”

Jack’s heart slowly stopped pounding, a grin crawling over his face as he figured out what’d happened. He chuckled as he stuck his hands in his pockets, sauntering over to the edge of the alcove and peering down into its plush depths. He watched as pale fingers grabbed at at a particularly large pillow, struggling to throw it aside and push a hole through which Rhys’ face could peek through. Embarrassment tinted his cheeks, his hair wispy and messy thanks to the struggling he’d clearly given up on by this point.

“You stuck, princess?”

“I—no. Maybe. I’m not really stuck, actually, you just built this way too deep and there’s too many pillows and your son is way too heavy and—h-hey, stop laughing!” Rhys snapped as Jack broke out into a proper fit of snickers.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” He gasped through his laugher, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “Just, oh god, I can’t believe you’re stuck in your own nest.”

“I’m not stuck!” Rhys growled, grabbing at one of the smothering pillows and feebly tossing it towards Jack’s feet. “Now stop being useless and get me out of here!”

“Oh kiddo, you’re not in any position to be calling me useless,” Jack teased even as he sunk into the nest, carefully navigating the heap of pillows until he could reach in and hook his hands underneath Rhys’ armpits. He made a big show about lifting Rhys up, which nearly earned him a head-butt to the nose.

“Guess you’re gonna need a lifeguard from now on, huh?” Jack smirked as he sat on the edge of the nest, keeping Rhys in his lap even as the omega squirmed in frustration.

“I’m not a child.” Rhys scowled, turning his head to glare angrily at Jack, who just coyly scented him in response.

“Hm, sure, but you are with child, so I think a little oversight is in order.” Jack’s hands drummed along Rhys’ belly until he felt his pup kick. “Don’t want you drowning in a pile of bean bags right when we’re sitting at the finish line.”

“Jerk,” Rhys hissed, even as he finally gave in and relaxed in Jack’s embrace. “You’re lucky I like it when you hold me.”

Jack rested his head against Rhys’ shoulder, fingers fanning out over his belly

“And you’re lucky I’m always around when you need saving.” He kissed the side of Rhys’ neck, pleased at the purr he felt building inside his mate.

“My hero.” As much as he tried Rhys couldn’t mask the genuine sincerity. Jack happily nosed underneath his omega’s jawline. He’d really gotten even worse at hiding his emotions since falling pregnant, hadn’t he.

“Weren’t you working on dinner?” Rhys frowned, though he leaned into Jack’s nuzzling. “Please don’t light the kitchen on fire…had enough excitement for today I think.”

“Don’t think the chopped onions are gonna run around and cause any mischief, kiddo.” Jack’s hands laced together over Rhys’ stomach, holding him firm. “Lucky me, I hadn’t turned on the oven yet, ‘cause I’m pretty okay with sitting here and keeping an eye on you for a little bit longer.”

Rhys rested his head back against Jack’s shoulder, cuddly and calm as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Same here.”

“Passion, Postponed”

Rhys looked up, blindly fidgeting with his phone as he scanned the menu pasted to the side of the truck’s concession window. It sold mostly burgers and fries and usually Rhys opted for the dressed salad and patty nudged in the customary paper basket, but today….

Today that double cheeseburger with grilled onions and bacon lardons looked pretty damn good. And fries, while he was at it! Covered in cheese and more bacon.

His phone buzzed, snapping his attention from the menu and his food lust and back down to his phone. He narrowed his eyes at Jack’s message, sticking his lip out.

p good probs still gonna b late tonight tho.

Rhys heart fell, though he wasn’t sure what he expected. As the day went on and on, it grew less likely that Jack was going to surprise and spoil him with some lavish Valentine’s Day plans.

Just some Vday fluff! Modern AU where Rhys thinks Jack forgot what day it is, but he might not be totally correct… 😉

Jack was usually the one who made plans.

Dinners, hotels, flights—anything that needed a preemptive credit card payment. He knew enough about Rhys to make sure the kid’s tastes were always taken into question when he made arrangements, but he was still usually the one who had final say and, most importantly, put down the money.

So Rhys didn’t even bother making Valentine’s Day plans himself, figuring that Jack would take care of everything as he usually did. When he woke up on the morning itself, he found the bed empty and, with an eager little smile on his face, trundled down the stairs, expecting to find their entire kitchen flooded in decorations with the smell of french toast cooking on the stove—but instead he found nothing but the normal kitchen and the normal table and the normal breakfast of cereal and the normal Jack with his hair just barely mussed into place and his tie hanging still loose around his unbuttoned collar.

“G’morning, babe,” Jack waved to him idly as he leaned his hip against the counter, listening to the bubble of the coffee maker. Rhys shot him a slight smile, expecting Jack to say a little more, but he didn’t, instead turning away when the bubbling pot dinged. He grabbed his bright yellow mug from the cabinet and poured the coffee, blowing it a few times before drinking it black.

Rhys skirted around the kitchen, words dancing on the tip of his tongue as he watched Jack’s back. A quick scan of the counters and table found no sign of presents or cards or anything one might expect from their loved one on Valentine’s day. Rhys creased his brows in suspicion, wondering if he should be the first to break the silence on the holiday, but what if his presents were out in the living room? Jack was a reluctant morning person, always needing his coffee before he could pull together his humanity and drive to tackle the day—maybe Rhys’ gifts were out in the living room, and as soon as Jack was done having his coffee, he’d take him there.  

So he kept mostly quiet, pouring his cereal and eating it as he leaned up against the counter, watching Jack as he sipped down the rest of his coffee before upending the mug in the sink. Rhys smiled as Jack turned towards him, quickly swallowing the cereal in his mouth and setting the bowl on the counter—this was it.

Jack took his hands, grinned, and said—

“Do you know where my keys are, Rhysie?”

Rhys blinked, lips parting in confusion.

“I—ah, they’re by the plants” Rhys gestured dumbly behind him. Jack winked, sliding over to grab the keys from beside the little glass terrariums clustered by the sink (to best ensure watering.) Disappointment flooded through Rhys as Jack pocketed the keys, though he managed to recover his smile as Jack leaned back over and rubbed their noses together.    

“Love you, babe. I’ll see you after work, ‘kay?”

“Yeah?” Rhys brightened as Jack shrugged on his blazer, buttoning it over his stomach.

“Yeah. Might be a little late cause I got a meeting at like four, though. And you know how traffic is.”

“Oh.”  Rhys’ smile faltered. “Okay.”

Jack even kissed him goodbye like it was a normal day. No extra tongue or butt-grabbing or anything to show off Jack knew it was a special occasion, just a regular old peck on the lips. Rhys tried to keep his disappointment at bay as he waved Jack off, watching through the front windows as Jack’s car pulled down and out of the driveway, glossy finish reflecting the overcast sky as he drove off down the street and out of sight.

Rhys counted to five—watching and waiting to see if maybe Jack would figure it out, break to a halt and come barreling back with apologies and flowers and a pint of Rhys’ favorite ice cream. Or maybe the doorbell would ring and he’d be showered in flowers and a crisp invitation beckoning him to reservations at his favorite restaurant.

He waited a minute, two minutes. Three. Five. His only reward was more silence and the distant honking of a car alarm.

Rhys sighed, sticking out his lower lip as he it grew less and less likely that Jack was going to give him a morning surprise. He kept his attention on his phone, waiting on an apologetic text as he tossed out the now soggy cereal and went to grab some coffee, happy to find his boyfriend had at least had the foresight to brew a full pot of coffee and not drink at all.

Jeez. He was so lucky.

Rhys’ lunch hour offered another cup of coffee and a trip down to the food trucks that clustered in the plaza behind the Atlas building. He slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked out into the sun, the smell of cooking meat and sizzling cheese filling his nose as he open up his text message. His stomach plummeted as he saw nothing from Jack—no “oh crap, I’m sorry I forgot Valentine’s Day Rhys, please forgive me!” or even any kind of cryptic message that might lead Rhys down the rabbit hole of hope to at least stave off the crawling disappointment for the rest of the day and actually allow him to get some work on instead of dwelling on the fact that his boyfriend was a huge jerk and seriously how could Jack forget Valentine’s Day?

Rhys huffed, his laptop bag bouncing uncomfortably against his hip as he got into line for his favorite truck, hoping he could distract himself with food. His fingers danced over his phone screen as he shuffled behind a businessman talking loudly on his bluetooth, skating out a couple of messages only to delete them seconds later.

He finally bit the bullet and tapped something out, hitting send as his heart leapt.

Hows work going?

He looked up, blindly fidgeting with his phone as he scanned the menu pasted to the side of the truck’s concession window. It sold mostly burgers and fries and usually Rhys opted for the dressed salad and patty nudged in the customary paper basket, but today….

Today that double cheeseburger with grilled onions and bacon lardons looked pretty damn good. And fries, while he was at it! Covered in cheese and more bacon.

His phone buzzed, snapping his attention from the menu and his food lust and back down to his phone. He narrowed his eyes at Jack’s message, sticking his lip out.

p good probs still gonna b late tonight tho.

Rhys heart fell, though he wasn’t sure what he expected. As the day went on and on, it grew less likely that Jack was going to surprise and spoil him with some lavish Valentine’s Day plans.

Oh ok. See you later.

Rhys sighed and put his phone back into his pocket, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

He could really use that burger.

Rhys pushed himself into work as soon as he finished his lunch break, trying to bury himself in numbers and code to forget about how pissed he was at his boyfriend. Unfortunately, the burger wasn’t sitting particularly well with him, his stomach gurgling and twisting and forcing him to go to the bathroom an embarrassing amount of times.

Rhys couldn’t very well blame his indigestion on Jack, but he was going to do it anyway.

He actually ended up getting off early—whether it was because he’d actually finished enough work, or if his boss had noticed his sullen mood and traitorous stomach—which would’ve been great on a normal day, or if he had plans to night, but considering he had nothing going on but bad feelings he really didn’t want to go home just to sit and wait around and watch television as he waited for Jack to finally get back from his job.

He glumly dragged himself to his car, stomach still turning from the remains of the burger as he slid into the driver’s seat. He checked his phone anyway, even though he hadn’t felt it buzz since Jack had messaged him back during lunch.

Of course, there was nothing. Rhys hissed, tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat as he started up the car.

The endless stop-start of fledgling rush hour traffic hammered further into his annoyance. Any patience he had left was stretched to its breaking point, and when the car in front of him stopped abruptly short and nearly sent his car sailing into its bumper he finally snapped, slapping the steering wheel in frustration and shouting so loud the reverb from his car doors left his ears ringing.

Finally, finally he peeled off the freeway and sailed into his neighborhood, any of his typical cursory respect for the suburban speed limit replaced by his need to be home and properly stewing in a nest of blankets and ice cream. Maybe he’d even break into Jack’s liquor cabinet and crack into that bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon he kept saying he was saving for a special occasion. It would really show him, and Rhys could get properly sloshed and forget about how every other couple in the neighborhood was probably already well on their way to their Valentine’s plans.

He dragged his feet up to the door, the clenching indigestion in his stomach replaced by a bitterness that soured all the way up to his chest. The porch light flicked on, even as the sun just barely started to set besides him. He wrinkled his nose, wondering just how late Jack would end up being. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for him to stay up working way past the time Rhys needed to go to bed if Hyperion so demanded his expertise.

Rhys sighed, adjusting the weight of his laptop bag against his shoulder as he opened the front door.

And then the air exploded.

Rhys squeaked as a pop resounded through his ears and he threw his hands up—terrified he’d accidentally run into a home intruder who was about to plug a bullet in his skull—only for a shower of glittery pink and red and white confetti rained down on him above. It drenched him like snow, catching in the folds of his clothes and peppering his hair as he gaped at the state of his house.

The entire foyer was draped in streamers, crisscrossing the ceiling of the entryway. The path  leading off towards the rest of his home was lined with twinkling baby pink fairy lights that guided Rhys eye, inviting him to explore the sudden festive dream that he’d suddenly been tossed into.

Glittery confetti shook from his clothes, leaving a garish trail behind him as he carefully stepped through the foyer. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of vanilla and strawberry the walls had been painted with. Beneath that, he could just barely detect the scent of broiling meat and steaming veggies, an odd savory smell undercutting the saccharine aroma that was choking the air inside the home.

Just when he was thinking that some crazy interior designer had broken into his house and drenched the entire thing in cloying decorations, he rounded the corner into the living room to find it in a similar state—draped in streamers, lights, heart-shaped balloons and confetti—but with Jack standing right in the center by the coffee table in a pristine white suite and pink shirt and a blood red tie that somehow still made him stand out even with the glut of similar colors stuffed all around him.

So, not a crazy person. Just Jack.

“Oh my god,” Rhys put his hands up to his face, cheeks blushing to match the decorations as he walked towards his boyfriend on numb legs, completely bowled over in surprise. Jack’s grin grew, knowing and devilish as he opened his arms wide, inviting Rhys in.

The tension in his chest now completely undone, Rhys quickly fell into his boyfriend’s embrace, burying his face against Jack’s shoulder. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his nose against the white fabric—Jack was wearing that cologne that Rhys endlessly expressed that he loved, the one that’d been discontinued, Jack explained, and thus needed to be rationed out for special occasions only.

“Easy, kid, don’t get your snot on the tux, it’s new,” Jack chuckled as he patted Rhys’ back. The young man snorted, lifting his head from Jack’s shoulders as he rubbed a hand over his nose, sniffling as he glanced at his boyfriend.  

“Sorry, I just….well, this morning, you didn’t so…I mean, I thought…”

“What? You didn’t think I really forgot, did ya?” Jack’s grin spread, eyes twinkling with mirth. “That’s so not like me.”

“I mean….I didn’t….I just….” Rhys stammered, still a little overwhelmed by the pink and red whirlwind that had stormed through their house, coupled with the fact that Jack had remembered what day it was, after all.

He shook his head, a relieved smile finally curling on his lips.

“Should have trusted you’d pull something out of your ass.”

“Out of my ass?” Jack balked, scandalized. “Rhysie, pumpkin, do you think you can just go to the store and get five pounds of confetti on Valentine’s Day? Not to mention everything else? This—“ he gestured about, “—was all planned weeks in advance.”

Rhys chuckled, turning his chin down to pick a bit of confetti off of his shirt.

“I guess you’re right…I’m a little surprised you didn’t get confetti in the shape of your face…” He squinted at the glittery little piece between his fingers. “It’s not, isn’t it?”

Jack hissed under his breath.

“Aw, damn, that would have been a great idea!” He snapped his fingers in mock frustration. “Gonna have to get those for my birthday.”

“Guess I’ll have to remember to order it custom when that time comes.” Rhys bumped his hips closer to Jack’s, lifting his arms to wrap them properly around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He swayed him softly, to the tune of the romantic music drifting from the unusually subdued stereo, as Jack’s hands rubbed along Rhys’ hips and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

“There’s a change of clothes hanging for ya in the hall closet, baby,” Jack breathed over his ear, “why don’t you go slip into that before we have dinner?”

“Jack, no—“

“Don’t worry, it’s something tasteful,” Jack snickered as he pulled away, hand lifting from Rhys’ hip to take his chin in hand, thumb tip rubbing tenderly against his lower lip, “which isn’t to say I don’t have some other surprises set up for when we make it up to the bedroom.”

Rhys shivered as Jack’s thumb darted ever so briefly between the warm break between his lips. Maybe it was the smell of braising steak that’d whet his palate, but he almost stuck his tongue out to get a taste of Jack’s finger.

Easy.

“Food first,” Rhys stated as Jack released his chin, though he still trailed his finger down the bob of Rhys’ throat, “I definitely want you to pamper me with your cooking before i have to do all the work in bed.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“I’m gonna make you eat those words, cupcake. But only after you eat everything I’ve been slaving over all afternoon.”

He patted Rhys’ back, turning and nudging him in the direction of the hall closet, where Rhys indeed found a perfectly tailored suit instead of some kind of gaudy novelty lingerie. It matched Jack’s with the exception of the bright blue shirt that made him truly stand out against the clusterfuck of Valentine’s colors that had consumed his house.

Rhys questioned the practicality of white suits considering they were about to sit down to a meal of steak no doubt slathered in one of Jack’s signature sauces, but as Rhys strode out and smiled at his boyfriend and took his hand and let him kiss him and dote on him and lead him to the perfectly set dining room table where Jack had already cracked open the Screaming Eagle and poured it out into their glasses, and as they both sit down to a meal softly lit by candlelight, Rhys finally says it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jack.”

Jack chuckled as he pulled out Rhys’ chair, kissing him on the temple as he sat down.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rhysie.”

36 rhack please!

more short modern au fluff orz i hope thats ok!

Usually, Jack could rely on Tim to take care of Angel.

His brother was a part-time writer who occasionally took on second jobs, and with such a loose schedule he was a natural pick when it came to figuring out who could keep Angel busy when Jack had to work overtime.

Tonight he had a company dinner, and had foolishly assumed Tim would be free and up for babysitting. Unfortunately, just a few minutes ago his phone had pinged with info that Tim had taken a catering gig and would be busy all night. So now, Jack was scrambling to thing of a solution as Angel tugged on his boxers and whined about how her sippy cup was empty.

“In a minute, baby girl, daddy’s gotta get you a sitter, ‘kay?” Jack bent down to scoop her up in one arm as he frantically searched local babysitting services on his tablet with the other. Angel wiggled happily as Jack kissed her temple, eyes still fixed on the loading page as he carried her off to the kitchen.

Honestly, if no one found out and squealed on him he could probably leave Angel bundled in blankets with juice and snacks and the tablet and she’d probably just sit there giggling and swiping through a playlist of brightly colored cartoons until Jack got back, but he would enjoy his steak a lot better knowing someone trustworthy was home caring for his pup.

He’d ended up picking a profile at random after filtering through only five-star rated sitters. He’d briefly glanced over the posted stats, picking up on “omega,” “grad student,” and “brings his own games” before verifying his decision. After getting a confirmation text on his tablet, he plopped Angel in front of the television with her stuffed unicorn and a purple sippy cup full of juice before he set about getting ready for the company dinner.

The doorbell rang just as Jack had finished fixing his H-shaped cufflinks into his sleeves. At least the kid was pretty prompt.

Jack thumped down the stairs, buttoning his blazer up as he walked to the door. Angel chirped happily from the living room, crawling upright to peer curiously over the back of the couch as Jack squinted through the peephole, getting a fish-eye glance of the young man waiting on his porch.

Oh.

Jack didn’t really have any expectations when it came to the sitter, asides from a competent, well-behaved omega that could follow the rules and not get sticky fingers once he saw all the luxuries Jack stuffed his house with. He definitely hadn’t really given any thought to the kid’s personal appearance—the website hadn’t included photos with its profiles, and the hotness of the sitter had been the last thing on Jack’s mind tonight. Now that he got a good look at him, though, it came right to the forefront.

Even through the distorted curve of the peephole, Jack could see the kid was a standout. Honestly, he looked like he was going to a meeting with his buddy’s tech startup rather than a babysitting gig. A deep blue blazer hemmed in a faint turquoise shirt, and a few buttons at the collar were tastefully popped, showing off distinct collarbones and a bit of pale chest. Jack could see splashes of black and blue ink against his skin, stylized in stark geometric designs.

Tattoos might put off a normal parent when it came to babysitters, but they honestly suited the kid, colors not clashing with his clothes almost like he’d coordinated around them. The circular one in particular looked like a target against his neck, inviting Jack’s eyes to drink in just how creamy and delicate his skin looked. He got an urge to pull at the kid’s neatness, to wrinkle his clothes and muss his hair and leave bruises deeper than those tattoos all over his sensitive flesh, bruises that could really make such a tender little omega keen.

A second round of knocking jostled Jack from his fantasy. Right. He hadn’t answered the door yet.

“You must be the sitter,” Jack said as soon as he opened it, stance casual like he’d just walked up instead of been standing around ogling for the past minute. The omega brightened as soon as Jack spoke, sticking out his hand like he was trying to impress in a job interview.

“And you must be Mr. Lawrence. My name is Rhys, though you probably already know that from the site.” Jack didn’t even remember if he’d bothered looking at the name. “Hope I’m not late? You look like you’re about ready to go.”

“Nah, my poor planning isn’t on you, pumpkin.” Jack stood aside to invite Rhys into the house, closing the door behind him. He watched as Rhys glanced about the spacious foyer, lips parted slightly in awe. The omega’s dress shoes clicked against the marble floor as he followed Jack towards where Angel had stood up on the couch, excitedly smiling at their new guest.

“Angel, c’mon, you know what I’ve told you about standing on the cushions.” Jack tutted as Angel hopped down from the couch and raced over to Rhys. The omega chuckled softly, bending down to her level as he let his messenger bag thump against the carpet.

“Angel, huh? That’s a really pretty name. Mine is Rhys—it’s not as pretty as yours, but its not too bad.”

“I think it’s nice!” Angel smiled brightly as Rhys started to open his bag, pulling out some brightly colored toys and games that had Angel’s eyes sparkling. She picked up a small board game covered in vibrant, mischievous cartoon mice and crazy contraptions and gasped as the box rattled in her hands.  

“Are we gonna play games while daddy is out?”

“Sure! I have a bunch of games and things we can play with together.”

“Can my unicorn play Mr. Rhys?”

“Of course your unicorn can play! It’s always fun with more people.”

Angel stuck her lip out and put her hands on her hips.

“She’s not a people, she’s a unicorn.”

“Oh, right! Sorry. My mistake,” Rhys chuckled, sending Angel off to set up the game on the coffee table as he rose to face the Jack.

“Is there anything else I should know, Mr. Lawrence? House rules, dietary restrictions, anything like that?”

Jack shook his head, honestly just impressed by how quickly the omega had bonded with his daughter. Angel had only really been babysat by Tim before, and as outgoing as she could be at school and with Jack, she tended to shirk from strangers. Maybe it was an omega thing, or just the fact that Rhys was pretty damn personable. After all, Jack himself felt similarly fond of him after just barely meeting him—though probably for different reasons than Angel did.

“Nah, you seem to got this whole thing down pat, kiddo.” Jack slid his wallet out of his pocket, flipping a twenty out of it into Rhys’ hand. “You can cook anything in the fridge, or order a pizza, I don’t really care. Angel likes sausage and mushroom if you go that route.”

“Where are you headed, if you don’t mind me asking? I don’t get much info when I get picked for a job, you know.”

“Eh, just a business meeting. Usually my brother babysits Angel, but he’s busy so you’re up, pumpkin.” Jack patted his shoulder, a friendly enough gesture excusing the fact he just wanted to touch Rhys. To his credit, the omega didn’t flinch away at the sudden contact, and Jack noticed his nostrils flare slightly.

“Don’t you worry, sir, we’re probably just going to play games all night. The kids love the games.”

“Yeah yeah, Angel’s pretty easy to entertain, but.” Jack flicked out his phone, opening the “new contact” tab and slipping it into Rhys’ other hand. “It’ll just make me feel a little better, you know, as a parent and all, to have your number so I can check on you and the little princess.”

“Oh. Sure!” Rhys innocently tapped out his number, before handing it to Jack. The alpha smirked, quickly saving it under “BabysitOnmyFace” before slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“All right, I should probably buzz off then. You two be good while daddy is out, ‘kay?” Jack waggled his finger between both Rhys and Angel, who giggled and blew a kiss from where she was putting together a precarious contraption of colored plastic on the coffee table. Her unicorn sat on the table beside her, a game piece resting on its sparkly hoof.

Jack opened the front door and out onto the porch, breathing deep of the twilight air as he beeped his car open. Rhys offered him his hand again, and as Jack shook it he couldn’t help but think about how small the omega’s fine fingers felt when incased in his palm.

“Have a good night, Mr. Lawrence. Don’t worry, I’ve got things under control here.” Jack felt his heart thump like a teenager’s at the omega’s cute little smile. Jack almost wished he could stay home and play dumb baby games and ear pizza instead of going out to pick at steak and listen to next quarter’s projections, just so he could see more of it. He settled for playing it over and over in his mind as he got into his car, fantasies about the pretty little omega developing into something a little more debauched as he pulled out of the driveway and headed off into the night.

I’m still invested in dumb omegaverse mpreg fluff ;-; so here have some more with Jack being posessive over a ridiculous unicorn plush that ends up poached by Rhys for his nest

Nobody could ever know about Cupcake Princess.

Only a few people could ever know that Jack was capable of that mushy thing called affection. Even then, it was affection aimed towards only a couple choice things—most of those things revolving around Rhys.

Rhys himself, Rhys’ favorite clothes, the pup growing in Rhys’ belly—to name a few.

But there were things he treasured that even Rhys didn’t know about, stashed around the penthouse in places even the nosy omega hadn’t found yet. And one of those things was Cupcake Princess.

He’d seen her in the window of one of the gift shops in the Hub back when Helios was still under construction, before he’d even dreamed of becoming CEO. He’d found it a bit strange at the time that a weapons company had any gift shops at all, much less ones that sold bright, sparkly stuffed unicorns, but the fur had looked soft enough to tempt Jack to go inside. And from the moment he’d plucked her off the little wooden shelf and given her a testing squeeze, he’d been in love.

Cupcake Princess hadn’t left his side since.

She was looking pretty well-loved at this point, the stuffing in her chest mushed down to her belly and up to her head, leaving her all mishmash, like a smashed potato. Her fur was dull and slightly matted on the head, where Jack had chewed the plush many nights in his sleep. He’d even left tiny little holes from his fangs just below her ear, which was starting to become loose of its stitching. Her mane was threadbare, sparkle just barely lingering in the purple fluff. She was a bit messed up from years of aggressive snuggling, but to him that only made her more valuable.

Jack kept her stowed under the bed in a box now that he lived with someone, surrounded by decoy bins full of vintage pornography and dusty antique guns and other trinkets that might satisfy the curiosity of a snooping omega. Now that Rhys was hampered by his growing belly and aching feet there was less of a concern that he might scrounge in every nook and cranny, but Jack still didn’t want to take any chances with Rhys finding that particularly embarrassing relic of his past.

However, he still took her out whenever Rhys got cabin fever and decided he needed to go down to the office or hang out with one of his nerd friends. Jack let him, grateful for the moment alone to get Cupcake Princess out of her hiding place and hold her to his chest and stroke her fur as he reflected on the imminent reality of becoming a dad.

When Jack looked into those big dumb eyes, dewey with shimmering violet, he felt like everything was gonna be okay and he hated the fact that this stupid plush could actually make him feel things that usually only Rhys made him feel, because it was just a lump of stuffing wrapped up in soft pink fur and dunked in sparkles and Jack loved to hug it to his chest and sniff its strawberry vanilla scent until he fell asleep.

He’d always wake up, however, when Rhys buzzed the front door security, and he’d always managed to toss Cupcake Princess back into her box and kick it under the bed before Rhys came calling into the bedroom.

He kept his secret safe—until one afternoon when he returned from the office, to find that Rhys had constructed another nest.

Jack had been finding them all about the penthouse lately. Rhys had clearly grown bored of watching television or playing his video game system, and he couldn’t nap in the bed any longer without kicking about the sheets and turning the entire thing into a messy lump that seemed to make sense to Rhys in some way Jack couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

He’d managed to coerce Rhys into nest-making off of the bed, but that’d resulted in new nesting popping up in places Jack didn’t expect. He’d nearly stepped on his pregnant mate one morning when he sleepily stumbled into his closet to find a fresh pair of pants, only for the floor below him to suddenly become alive in a warm, growling mass of omega that scared him so bad Jack’d nearly fallen on his ass.

Lately, Rhys had finally gotten it in his head to not use common routes of foot traffic as places to build his nest, so when Jack found that he’d pulled all the chairs in the living room together to make a huge bed for himself, he wasn’t completely surprised. Rhys had already re-arranged the furniture several times over the course of his pregnancy, out of boredom or maybe a fuzzy sense of fengshui, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

What was a big deal, however, was the little bit of purple fur peeking out from below Rhys’ chin.

Jack recognized it immediately, his stomach dropping as he sniffed harshly at the air, picking up on the faded strawberry-vanilla scent underneath the overpowering odor of his mate. His heart thudded in his chest, an ashamed flush spreading across his cheek like a rash as he watched Rhys brazenly snuggle Cupcake Princess before his very eyes.

For the moment, Jack put the thought of exactly how and why Rhys had found his beloved plush out of his mind. First things first—he needed to get it out of his mate’s grip and back into the box under the bed.

That proved a little harder than he thought it would be. He carefully leaned over Rhys’ snoozing body, brushing aside the stolen bed comforter and exposing more of where Cupcake Princess was trapped.

Rhys was latched on pretty tight. Those little omega fangs of his were latched nearly right where Jack had himself nibbled on her, and he had his arms wrapped tight around her body. It was…it was a cute enough sight, to see his pregnant mate so affectionately cuddling something he’d loved over the years, but he was far too ashamed to just leave her there. Maybe if he got her away and hidden now, he could just pretend that it had all been a dream that Rhys had been having when he woke up. Yeah. Just a dream. Stuffed purple unicorn where?

“C’mon…” He whispered as he tried to shift Rhys’ arms from where they were wrapped about the plush, but Rhys just shifted, mumbling as he hugged the animal tighter. Jack blew frustration softly through his lips, eyes scanning over Rhys’ form to try to find a way to make this work. The omega curled even tighter, as if to spite him.

Jack gazed about the room, trying to see if anything around him could offer a solution. He needed something soft, that smelled like him, something just as huggable as Cupcake Princess was…

His eyes fell upon a pillow that had, apparently, been deemed unworthy of the nest and cast upon the floor. He plucked it up, hefting it around in his hands as he glanced down at Rhys, a grin spreading over his face.

That was it! Just give Rhysie the ol’ switcheroo. He grinned as he stripped his sweater off, hoping the thick scent would placate Rhys enough that he could grab his plush.

He wrapped the sweater tightly about the pillow, before tucking it underneath his arm and leaning back over Rhys. The omega shifted, letting out a soft noise muffled against Cupcake Princess’s head. Ugh. Was that drool? He wrinkled his nose at a damp spot near her ear. Definitely drool.

He tugged lightly on Cupcake Princess’s hoof, trying to pull her out of Rhys’ arms at the same time as he pushed the pillow down into his embrace. Jack’s heart thumped in his chest, feeling like he was a treasure hunter inside of a vault, dealing with some hair-trigger alien technology. His breath caught in his throat as he managed to get Cupcake Princess halfway out of Rhys’ grasp. Victory was in sight.

And then Rhys had to suddenly shift and flop onto his back, completely throwing off Jack’s precision and tossing the sweater wrapped pillow off into a remote corner of the nest.

“Crap!” Jack swore, too loudly, because the next moment Rhys was rubbing his eyes and yawning and looking up at him with a dewy squint.

“Mmm, Jack, what’re you doin’?” Rhys mumbled, clasping Cupcake Princess to his chest as his other hand moved down to rub his belly. Jack froze like a skag in a bandit’s scope, cursing inwardly. Rhys blinked rapidly at him, trying to figure out what exactly his mate had been doing hovering above him.

“I’m…uh….I was just…I was just…” Jack’s eyes moved from Rhys, to Cupcake Princess, and back to Rhys again. He could feel his blush connecting across his nose, body practically shaking with embarrassment. Rhys wrinkled his nose, looking down at Cupcake Princess before returning to Jack.

“Were…were you trying to take this?”

“No.” Jack answered too quickly. “Definitely, positively, abso-frikkin’-lutely not!”

“Oh my god, so it is yours.” Rhys smiled devilishly, bringing Cupcake Princess up to his nose and inhaling deeply. “I wasn’t sure, but it smelled like you. Adult you. Don’t tell me you—“

“You’re the only cuddling it right now, pumpkin, so it’s not—I don’t—it’s not like it’s weird!” Jack defended, cheeks practically growing purple with blush. Rhys just kept giggling at him as he sat up slowly, hand cradling his belly as the other kept Cupcake Princess glued tightly to his chest. Her head flopped limply forward as Rhys sniffed deeply into her mane, a happy little smile creeping across his face.

“It’s not weird at all, Jack. It’s just kind of funny that the most feared man in the galaxy has a favorite stuffed toy that he kept hidden under the bed.”

“H—How did you even find it, anyway, you can barely get your pants on without crying, how did you even get on your knees to look underneath—“

“I have my ways. When I get into my nest-building mood I’m willing to do anything to find something that smells nice…and your little unicorn friend smelled really nice.” Jack folded his arms petulantly over his chest, lower lip set out in an angry pout. Usually, when he was this annoyed, he’d pull out Cupcake Princess and give her a quick snuggle, but his mate just had to be pregnant and nosy, didn’t he? Stealing his favorite, secret plush and hugging her right in front of him. So rude.

Rhys pulled his nose out of the unicorn’s plush, rubbing its fabric delicately as he rested his chin atop her head.

“Lucky for you though, I can think of someone who smells a little better.”

“I’m only gonna cuddle your thieving ass if you let me hold her,” Jack admittedly grumpily, determined to keep his sour expression on his face until Rhys gave in. The omega wasn’t the only one who could deal in a little emotional manipulation.

Fortunately, Rhys seemed to take a little pity on him, as he finally parted with Cupcake Princess, holding the unicorn out to Jack. The alpha quickly grabbed it, hugging it gleefully to his chest as he hopped over the back of the couch nest and slid in next to Rhys.

“See? She’s a lot happier being back with her king.” Jack brushed his nose affectionately against the unicorn’s head, surprising pleased to find Rhys’ scent rubbed into her fur. Maybe he’d let the omega cuddle her sometimes, as long as he vowed not to breath a word about this to anyone.

“As am I…” Rhys purred softly as he cuddled in close to Jack, keeping Cupcake Princess tenderly cradled between their chests as he slowly fell back asleep, eventually luring Jack to follow in kind, his nose full of the scent of strawberry-vanilla.

“Fixing Christmas”

Day 9 of Requestmas! @skybloodfox wanted Rhys and Jack’s first Christmas! Modern AU. 

Featuring ornament hanging (and breaking, and fixing) shenanigans with the boys 🙂

Jack didn’t know that tree decorating was such a big deal to Rhys.

He’d figured that they were more or less done when he’d bought the tree and had it lugged to the mansion and installed right in front of the tall, sparkling window looking out over the lawn. Throw a couple of garlands and some stock ornaments on it, string some lights, and put up a pretty little star, and be done with it all.

But Rhys had something quite different in mind. He’d sat down with Jack one evening, with a huge stack of boxes that he must’ve been hiding somewhere that escaped Jack noticed, despite the fact that it was his own house and all.

The boxes were almost bursting with decorations that it looked Rhys had been collected for the past decade. Some were made of wood, others of plastic, and even more made of different types of glass ranging from light as spun sugar to heavy enough that Jack was pretty sure he could kill someone with them.

On top of it all, Rhys had a story behind almost every single ornament, a story he practically insisted on telling Jack as either one of them hung up each ornament. Jack nodded and hummed along, only half listening as he slid the decorations onto the branches, though more often than not where he put them didn’t satisfy Rhys, who nudged him aside and replaced the ornaments a couple inches up or down or sideways from its original position.

Jack was starting to get a crick in his spine when they, blessedly, finally came to the last box. It was long and bright red and golden with a fancy gold border around the edges. Rhys was practically giddy as he bent down besides the box, a thin layer of dusting floating from underneath the lid as he lifted it up and set it aside.

Settled in a cushion of deep red velvet were twelve ornaments, lined up in a row one after another. They were a lot bigger than the ones they had previously hung up, delicately painted and sculpted with intricate, glittery details. There was a partridge in a pear tree, four calling birds, seven swans a swilling—hell, it was all the Twelve Days of Christmas. In ornament form.

Rhys was so, so corny.

“These better be the last ones, pumpkin,” Jack warned as Rhys lifted the first out of the package, as carefully as if he were holding a faberge egg.

“These are the last ones, I promise.” Rhys smiled as he approached the tree, standing up on his tip-toes as he hung the fat glassy little partridge as high as he could reach.

“All right, now you grab the six maids a’ milking—“

“Six? Aren’t we going in order?”

“Mmm, I have like, a pattern in which I like to hang them up…saving the best for last, you know?” Rhys grinned brightly, gesturing to the box. Jack sighed, bending down to pick up the brazen sculpt of the maids tugging on cows’ udders. Real classy for Christmas.

They hung up all the ornaments, alternating the duty between them, until there was only one left. A delicately blown, glittering tower of golden rings that was by far the most appealing out of the set.

Rhys lifted the ornament carefully, before handing it to Jack, a little shy smile playing on his lips.

“I…usually…if I’m doing it with someone else….someone I really care about…I let them hang this one up. It’s the coolest one.”

Jack took the ornament in hand, glancing skeptically at it. The gold was cool, but other than that it looked the same as all the other ones. But whatever. He put on a smile for the kid, and turned around to put it on the tree.

Sadly, whatever Christmas god out there had decided that Jack had been too naughty or grouchy this year and needed his comeuppance, decided to strike right then and there. Jack’s overstepped and his foot slide slightly against the ground, causing him to lose him balance—and lose hold of the ornament.

There was no saving it. From the moment it tipped off of Jack’s fingers, he’d known there was no way saving it. Still, he tried, lashing out and trying to grab the spinning ornament, only to knock it further away from the tree where it finally smashed against the hardwood floor. Jack winced, feeling the shattering glass deep in his bones.

Rhys gaped at the remains of the ornament, struggling to comprehend what had happened. Jack stole a glance at him, Rhys’ stunned face not exactly making him feel better.

“Crap, kiddo….Rhysie-pumpkin, I’m so sorry…”

“You….you broke it…”

“Hey! I said I was sorry kiddo! It’s not like I meant to do it!”

“I—I know you didn’t mean to, but that’s not…ugh! Jack!” Rhys cried, voice rising with anger. Jack could even see tears starting to sparkle in the corners of his eyes, which took him by surprise. He…he was crying over ornaments?

Jack’s bewilderment must have shown in his face, because Rhys let out a terse sigh, rubbing furiously at his eyes as they fell back towards the shattered ornament on the ground.

“I….it’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll….I’ll clean it up…” he said miserably, before brushing past Jack and tramping over to the broom closet, leaving the CEO feeling both confused and dejected at the sudden turn of events. He frowned down at the smashed glass on the floor, scintillating sadly in the flashing lights decorating the tree. The little sniffles he could

Crap. He had to do something.

Christmas Eve, like it always did, came much quicker than Rhys had thought.

It was always a bit of a shame how fast the month of December seemed to pass. Rhys supposed too much goodness and fun would make it less special, but surely time could have the courtesy to let them enjoy the holiday fun a little bit longer?

Still, he was excited for the plans they had that evening. Jack had booked them a fancy dinner at Rhys’ favorite restaurant, and had even agreed to wear that nice formal suit that Rhys had got him fitted for for his birthday.

Jack was a little late coming home from work, which Rhys had expected. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the small box in his hands—tenderly and somewhat messily wrapped, which quickly told Rhys that his boyfriend had done it himself.

“Jack, I thought we agreed, no gifts until Christmas morning!” Rhys chuckled, trying to take the present from Jack’s hand and place it under the tree, where it belonged for another night more, but Jack’s fingers rested gently atop his hand. The softness took Rhys by surprise—Jack had his moments, but he was usually a little more hard edges and jokes and rough sex than anything else.

“I know, I know, Rhysie, but this is…special. Real special. And I know you’re gonna wanna open it now. Enjoy it for as long as you can.” Rhys raised his eyebrow. His boyfriend was being weirdly cryptic, which made him curious. He took the present in both hands as Jack handed it over, picking at the sloppy bow and ragged, taped-down edges. He shook it a little in jest, but it made little noise.

Interested, he tore the wrapping paper off to find—a box from Amazon. Rhys snorted through his nose, expecting little more than a dildo or maybe a new phone charger or something from Jack as he turned the box over in his palm, finally getting it open and pulling out the layers of bubblewrap.

The coy little smile on his face dropped as he stared, eyes wide, at what lay inside the package. Jack beamed, smile brilliant white and triumphant as Rhys reached inside, letting the box fall to the floor as he cradled the sparkly, five golden rings ornament in his hand.

“I…I….Jack….how did you…?” Rhys gaped, turning it over reverently in both hands. He could feel his heart leaping in his throat, tears starting to gather at the edge of his eyes.

“T-That was an exclusive set made over a year ago, they don’t even sell it in stores anymore, and that…that’s the rarest one…”

“Yeah, you’re telling me…” Jack snickered. “Cost me a real pretty penny. More than anyone should ever rationally pay for some bauble.”

His large hands gently cupped Rhys’, expression oddly sweet despite the snark.

“But it’s worth it. To make you happy.”

The tears that had been building in Rhys’ eyes finally spilled over, happiness nearly clouding his vision as he leaned forward into his boyfriend’s waiting hug. Jack chuckled softly, rubbing and patting Rhys’ back as he blubbered into his down jacket.

“I swear, you’re crying worse than when I broke the damn thing…” Rhys nudged him softly with his chin, a little laugh of his own breaking through the happy tears. Finally, Rhys straightened up, rubbing his eyes as he smiled.

“Though…this time…I’m putting it on the tree.”

“Snowbound” Ch. 1

But other than that, the mansion seemed just as oddly quaint as the rest of the town, constructed from the same wood or wood-like material and topped with a sloped roof that gathered banks of snow and rows of icicles at the edges. The many windows glowed with the fires of hearth, sending a pleasant shiver through Rhys’  body and making him realize how cold he was, even with the down jacket wrapped around him.

“You gonna carry me over the threshold?” Rhys called as he trundled after Jack. The CEO laughed, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he slipped his hand onto the digital keypad.

“You’re gonna have to make a honest man outta me before I do that, sugar.”

6th Day of Requestmas! For @starfruitspice! Jack and Rhys getting snowed in at Jack’s new mountain chalet. 🙂 Second chapter will hopefully be up soon!

Rhys hadn’t even known that Pandora had snow. He’d thought the entire planet was just barren deserts and hostile residents, with the occasional pockets of slightly muted insanity and violence.

So when Jack told him he was building a winter home alongside a new Hyperion settlement tucked away in some secluded Pandoran mountain range, he’d thought Jack’d been pulling his leg. Even when the project was allegedly “finished” and Jack had offered to take him down to visit and stay for a little bit, Rhys had expected the transport doors to open up to some kind of prank involving an angry bullymong or a pit full of lava or something.

But, no. Jack had been sincere this entire time.

The transport had dropped them off in the middle of a cute, picturesque town that looked more quaint vacation getaway than Hyperion-sponsored city. Sure, the company’s logo hung from the windows and flew from the flagpoles, and a frosted statue of Jack stood smack dab in the middle of the town square, but the buildings themselves were fairly charming, humbly built from either wood or some kind of synthetic material that was damn good at pretending to be wood. Each little A-frame roof was hung with twinkling lights that filled the entire scene with a sense of whimsy and comfort that Rhys could never have imagined existing on Pandora of all places.

“You….you really weren’t kidding…” Rhys marveled, grateful Jack had insisted on bringing him a jacket as he stepped out into the soft snow. Despite the chill, Rhys felt warm, even oddly nostalgic for a time he wasn’t even sure he’d ever known. Jack grinned brightly as he came up behind him, wrapping his arms tight about the young man’s waist.

“Frikkin’ adorable, right? And it’s all ours, kiddo. Regular Hyperion stiffs don’t get to come here ’til next week.”

“Really?” Rhys questioned, glancing around at all the houses, their windows lit up. He sniffed the air, smelling something sweet.

“Then…I mean…who’s baking cookies?”

“A.I. technology has come a long way, babe, don’t you worry. We’ll be good and spoiled here,” Jack snickered as he patted Rhys on the hip, brushing past him. “Now c’mon—you wanna see daddy’s mansion, don’t ya?”

When Rhys envisioned “Handsome Jack’s mansion,” he imagined something pretty gaudy and ostentatious. If Helios was anything to go by, Jack’s sense of style could hardly be called restrained, or even tasteful.

So as they trudged out of the tiny square, the occasional tiny loader bot running by with an armful of stitched quilts or a tray of fresh sugar cookies, Rhys was expecting to see some sprawling, tacky abomination of a home practically leap out from the snowy mountainside and smack him in the face with a hundred Jack statues and a brilliant yellow color-scheme. But instead, what he saw was something a little more…humble.

Well, about as humble as Jack could possibly be without hurting himself.

It was still huge, sprawling over the mountainside and stretching up at least four stories plus attic space. And two decently-sized Jack statues decorated the front entrance, their hands outstretched as if to welcome the guests—or frighten them away. But other than that, the mansion seemed just as oddly quaint as the rest of the town, constructed from the same wood or wood-like material and topped with a sloped roof that gathered banks of snow and rows of icicles at the edges. The many windows glowed with the fires of hearth, sending a pleasant shiver through Rhys’  body and making him realize how cold he was, even with the down jacket wrapped around him.

“You gonna carry me over the threshold?” Rhys called as he trundled after Jack. The CEO laughed, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he slipped his hand onto the digital keypad.

“You’re gonna have to make a honest man outta me before I do that, sugar.”

“Then I guess it’s hopeless, huh?” Rhys teased as Jack pushed open the door, enveloping them both in the comforting warmth radiating from the chalet’s interior.

It was even more gorgeous inside than out, and a thankful reprieve from the worsening cold outside. Rhys practically melted in happiness as he looked around the chalet, taking in the high ceilings and welcoming amber wood. Rhys’ ECHOeye quickly scanned for the temperature, reporting back a toasty 78 degrees.

“Good afternoon and welcome, Handsome Jack, sir,” a peppy voice spoke out of nowhere, nearly making Rhys jump out of his skin. Jack laughed, grabbing onto his boyfriend as he lost his balance, looking nervously around.

“You forget what I said about A.I. interfacing already, pumpkin?” Jack shook his head, before addressing the air. “Sugartits, we’re good, so long as you don’t scare the hell outta my pumpkin again.”

“Apologies, sir. Will some hot chocolate help your companion feel more at home?”

Jack patted Rhys on the hip, jostling him out of his surprise.

“O-Oh! Sure. Hot cocoa sounds…awesome,” Rhys stuttered, following Jack into the kitchen, where a little chrome machine, akin to a coffee maker, had already started to light up and quiver. A spout of melted chocolate and steamed milk poured out into a mug already set up beneath it, filling the cup and even topping it off with a dollop of whipped cream.

“…Holy crap…” Rhys’ eyes sparkled, grabbing the mug as he took a deep sip.

“Who knew a robot could make such great hot chocolate?” Rhys chuckled warmly, burying his nose back into the whipped cream and taking a noisy sip. “Thank you, umm…?”

“Sugartits.”

“Jack, that can’t be their real name…” Rhys scoffed.

“Sir Handsome Jack has requested I respond to the following—Sugartits, Babe, Babycakes, Honey, Sweetcheeks—“

“Uh, okay, no, I don’t want to call you any of that….” Rhys flustered as Jack snickered in the background. He rubbed his chin, thinking.

“Her project name was Hestia, if that helps at all…” Jack mumbled, a hot toddy liberal on the alcohol pouring into another mug with the clap of his hands. Rhys snorted.

“Hestia…no, sounds like an old lady, which would just be…weird…how about…uh…Holly?”

“Holly. What’re you going for, ‘festive stripper’?” Jack snickered, burying his nose in the hot cocktail steaming in a unicorn mug.

“Holly added to database of name recognition. Will there be anything else, sirs?” The voice responded smoothly.

“Light up the fireplace and turn on the ECHOvision, then leave us alone for the rest of the night, ‘kay Sweetcheeks? Don’t want ya popping in when I’m trying to get into Rhysie’s long johns here.” Jack’s cheeks were already shiny with a drunken flush as he grabbed Rhys’ butt, nearly leading his boyfriend by the ass over to the huge, plush couches that dominated the living room.

“Oooh….yeah, I’m not getting up like, ever…” Rhys moaned as he practically sunk into the soft red cushions, the couch sucking him in like quicksand. Jack cuddled in besides him, his lips loose with alcohol as he pressed kisses all over his boyfriend’s cheek and nearly spilt his alcohol.

“Good thing we won’t have to…I could have you on this couch all week, sugar…that’s….that’s fine with me…” Jack moaned, practically sliding into Rhys’ lap. The young man squeaked, nearly snorting his hot chocolate up his nose.

“C-Can I at least finish my drink before you uh…try to jingle my bells?” Rhys giggled, licking the last of the whipped cream from his lips as he tried to suck down his hot chocolate before Jack got his hands down his pants and made drinking basically impossible.

Rhys had only a half-inch of thick chocolate syrup remaining at the bottom of his mug when Jack grew impatient and snatched it out of his hands. He smothered Rhys’ protesting whine with a kiss, pinning his boyfriend down against the plush cushions as they made out.

Those last, delicious dregs of hot chocolate were quickly forgotten thanks to Jack’s lips. They were soft and strong and send shocks of heat through Rhys’ body that’d been missing even with the ambient warmth of the chalet. Jack’s hips grind downwards between Rhys’ open legs, the slight brush of their crotches sending a spark of need through his loins. Rhys’ eyes flutter shut, tongue twining lazily with his boyfriend’s as he melts back into the couch, more than ready to just let Jack take care of him for once.

Rhys heard the sound of his zipper yanking down as Jack’s hand pushed through his now open pants. His palm rubbed up against where Rhys’ cock lay snug in his thermal underwear, pre-cum already staining the damp fabric. Rhys’ moans into Jack’s mouth, his hands squeezing his boyfriend’s shoulders as Jack peels down the waistband of his underwear. Rhys gasps as Jack’s lips pull away from his, the CEO’s glittering smile leering down on him as he finally grasps the base of Rhys’ cock, pulling it free from its confines. Rhys squirmed as his boyfriend took his dick in hand, ready to send him into a flurry of pleasure that would last long, long into the night.

And then the lights went out.