“Stripped of Bark”

Rhys nearly jumped at the snap of the wood. Jack’s axe didn’t go through all the way, so he braced his other hand against the block and jerked the blade a few times until it pulled free. He watched Jack roll his neck and shrug his shoulders, before hefting the axe down again, this time splitting the log the rest of the way down.

It was odd to see Jack doing something so physical. Not that Rhys hadn’t seen his alpha spring into action before when someone behaved in a way Jack deemed inappropriate towards his mate, or when some would-be assassin thought they could get the drop on him. Jack wasn’t exactly lazy, but he did enjoy his downtime, preferring relaxing on the couch or screwing Rhys silly to going to the gym or taking a jog.

But damn. Jack chopping wood? Something so simple was getting Rhys’ heart pumping as he watched Jack move—not expertly, but with focus and raw strength he’d not seen in quite some time.

This is a super self indulgent fic involving Rhys and Jack vacationing to a cabin on a woodsy cabin. Featuring probably unrealistically attractive Jack but you know what? That’s okay.

Rhea was a wild planet, largely uninhabited and untouched by civilization, but it didn’t pose nearly the danger a place like Pandora did. Probably because it was not infested with crazed adventure-seekers and warring mercenaries. And while there could potentially be hidden dangers Hyperion expeditions had yet to uncover, preliminary ecological surveys showed most of the local fauna posed little immediate danger to humans.

So, obviously, it was the perfect place for an isolated, relaxing vacation.

Rhys had balked the first time Jack suggested it, but after seeing photos of the surrounding area and the little but luxurious cabin Jack had built there, he started to warm up to the idea. And when Jack had gone out and bought a full rustic little wardrobe full of cute jeans, flannel shirts, and cute peacoats Rhys found himself won over.

Excited as he was to explore a new planet, Rhys wound up taking a nap almost immediately when he got there, exhausted from the transport. The entire cabin smelled lovely and relaxing, of pine and cinnamon spice. Despite the chill of the forest outside the interior radiated warmth, and the moment Rhys saw the comfortable couch covered in blankets he flopped down onto the cushions and knocked out.

When he finally woke up he felt fuzzy but relaxed. He yawned, stretching his arms out over his head and flexing his toes in his boots. He hadn’t even bothered to take them off before he fell asleep, he realized with an inward chuckle.

After a moment’s spent enjoying the softness of the couch and the comforting smells around him Rhys finally wobbled upright, placing his feet on the floor as he looked around, half expecting to find Jack similar conked out in the armchair, but his alpha was nowhere to be found. Rhys turned around to glance over the back of the couch to the little pass-through window that looked into the kitchen, but nope. Nothing.

Rhys stood, legs still a little wobbly from sleep, before starting to explore the rest of the cabin. It was small, about half the size of Jack’s penthouse, but not cramped or uncomfortable. Words like quaint and cozy meandered around in his head—both things he’d never figured Jack would be into, and yet it’d been Jack’s idea to build this place. There were touches of luxury here and there—the coffee table had been carved from from beautifully marbled wood, and a fancy television sat mounted above the empty fireplace—but otherwise it looked fairly rustic.

A quick peek into the kitchen confirmed Jack wasn’t there, so Rhys started to check the bathrooms and the bedrooms, eventually ending up near the back end of the house when he couldn’t find hide nor hair of his alpha. There, as Rhys ducked his head into the tiny laundry room, he finally heard a muffled thunk from outside, followed by a distinctly human grunt.

Rhys pushed open the unlocked back door onto a small little porch populated by a couple of carved chairs, tucked under a little awning. A few little lanterns glowed from the roof’s edge, providing little needed light in the late afternoon but adding to the overall ambience nonetheless.

He could smell the fresh spice of the woods around them, the leaves and bark heavy with the cooling temperate as the sun started to tickle against the tops of the trees. The sunlight filtering through the highlighted everything in a gentle orange glow, from the boulders and stumps scattered about the ground to the broad pair of shoulders and oddly focused face that didn’t yet notice Rhys’ presence.

Jack stood in the backyard of the cabin—if you could really call it that, considering there were no visible fences separating the little grass clearing from the surrounding woods. He’d stripped down from the flannel shirt he’d worn on the transport, tying the garment around his waist to keep it from getting in the way. The white undershirt beneath stuck to his chest and stomach, spotted in places from sweat and grim. In one hand gleamed the long handle of an axe, its edge flashing in an arch as Jack whipped it over his head and brought it down to crack through a piece of wood set up on a broad stump.

Rhys nearly jumped at the snap of the wood. Jack’s axe didn’t go through all the way, so he braced his other hand against the block and jerked the blade a few times until it pulled free. He watched Jack roll his neck and shrug his shoulders, before hefting the axe down again, this time splitting the log the rest of the way down.

It was odd to see Jack doing something so physical. Not that Rhys hadn’t seen his alpha spring into action before when someone behaved in a way Jack deemed inappropriate towards his mate, or when some would-be assassin thought they could get the drop on him. Jack wasn’t exactly lazy, but he did enjoy his downtime, preferring relaxing on the couch or screwing Rhys silly to going to the gym or taking a jog.

But damn. Jack chopping wood? Something so simple was getting Rhys’ heart pumping as he watched Jack move—not expertly, but with focus and raw strength he’d not seen in quite some time.

Rhys knew that body intimately. He’d ran his fingers over Jack’s form many times, exploring those lingering muscles beneath the layer of aged softness in his chest and shoulders. Jack’s youth had built him well, and even now Rhys sensed the power kept in reserve, rendered mostly unnecessary thanks to Jack’s privileged position and access to all sorts of advanced weapons.

Warm wind swirled around the porch, tickling Rhys’ neck and face and making him shudder. Jack tossed the two halves of wood into a small pile besides the stump, and when those arms flexed and hands grabbed an even larger log Rhys finally decided to speak up.

“Wow. I would call you a show-off, but who were you even showing off to, the trees?” The omega chuckled as he walked out onto the porch, letting the door fall shut behind him. The sound drew Jack’s attention to him, giving Rhys a proper view of his face, tense with concentration and peppered with sweat and dirt.

“Rhysie? You finally wake up?” Jack sounds a little breathless, voice slightly broken by pants.

“Mmmm. This place is super relaxing, I couldn’t help it.”

Jack’s pecs moved with his breaths, muscles bulging out against the white fabric. His shirt truly was plastered against his body, clinging to the contours of his chest and collarbone. Rhys bit his lip as he walked down the steps, loafers crunching into the grass as he walked to meet Jack. The alpha dropped the axe, letting it fall into the earth with a soft thunk, his attention distracted from chopping wood now that his mate was awake.

Jack’s palms pressed against Rhys’ hips as soon as he got close, rucking a bit of his shirt up as his fingers dug in to properly grab him. Rhys arched his back, curving his crotch and belly forward to rub up against Jack’s body as it pushed closer, rubbing them both together.

“You…you look really good like this…” Rhys reached up to cup Jack’s face. He still wore his mask, but dirt clung to his cheek and sweat shone on the gaps of tan skin between the edges of fake flesh and his hairline. He trailed his fingers up the seam between his mask and the face until he reached the clasps near his temples.

“Think so, sugar?”

“Mmhm. You’d look even better without this, though…” Rhys pinches the clasps between his fingers, but Jack only frowned.

“Pumpkin…”

“No one’s here…” Rhys pressed closer, kissing Jack’s cheek, then just beneath his left eye. “Come on. Please?”

Jack, instead of relenting, pressed forward to claim Rhys’ lips, trying to distract him. The omega moaned as a tongue pushed into his mouth, doing its job to draw Rhys’ attention from the mask as his hands fell back to cradling Jack’s jaw.

It was hard not to go weak-kneed and fluttery with Jack kissing him, the scent of earth and spice and alpha pheromone already seeded deep within his senses. Rhys’ hands slowly drifted from Jack’s jaw to wind about his neck, keeping himself close as Jack’s mouth consumed him with warmth and need.

Rhys lifted one leg up to rest around Jack’s hips before he even realized what he was doing. Jack’s hand slapped onto his thigh, securing it there, keeping Rhys slightly off balance and reliant on Jack’s weight and grasp even as his kissing grew aggressive to match Jack’s teeth and tongue. Rhys moaned low in his throat as Jack’s fingers dug harder into his thigh, those well-manicured nails—now caked with grit—scratching against the fabric of his jeans.

Jack soon yanked Rhys’ other leg up around his hips to join the other. He clenched his thighs as his fingers dug into Jack’s shoulders, holding on tight as the alpha supported Rhys’ weight all on his own.

The late-afternoon breeze whistled through the woods, sending leaves on the ground scattering. Rhys’ felt his hair tousle from its already disheveled state as the wind tugged at him and goaded even more of Jack’s rugged scent into his nose. He gasped when their lips parted and Jack let their foreheads list together, tongue lapping over his canines as he looked at Rhys with raw hunger he could practically feel in his blood.

“…Maybe we should take this inside, huh?” Rhys trailed his fingers through the hair on the back of Jack’s neck, feeling how it stuck in sweaty spikes. Jack rumbles his assent deep in his chest as he stroked his nose alone Rhys’ cheek, dragging his scent along his skin in small huffs. Already uninterested in words.

Rhys tilted his chin back to give Jack more access to his neck, already okay with that.

The bedroom sat on the east side of the cabin, closest to the light of the setting sun. It filtered, warm and gold through the blinds, casting fat slats of light onto the bed covered by wool blankets and furs.

The waning sunlight shifted, glistening on the disturbed dust as Jack pushed Rhys down against the bed and climbed atop him, settling right between the omega’s parted legs as he pressed their lips together.

Rhys smelled a little different here. Not radically—Jack still intimately knew it as Rhys’ scent as a part of him as his hair or eyes or hands—but enough to pinch his notice. It smelled more raw now, pared down from the usual trappings of cologne and deodorant and hair product—simple yet more free, less restrained than how he smelled on Helios.

It was driving Jack crazy. Since arriving on Rhea he felt so different, more in tune with his body than every before. He could feel the warmth of his blood pump in his veins, conscious of it especially in his temples, neck and groin. He felt anima, given into instinct, and he needs more than anything now to press Rhys into the bed and fuck him as hard as he could.

The mask had done it. Once they were inside, he’d let Rhys’ remove it, let it fall to the homespun rug beneath his feet. As soon it unclipped from his face Jack didn’t even care what happened to it because Rhys had kissed him right after, brushing up against the rough skin and stubble of the alpha’s face. Jack hadn’t been able to help himself after that, as he hauled Rhys off to the bedroom and tossed him onto the bed.

Jack watched as Rhys’ throat now fluttered with moans, the top button of his flannel already undone. Both his hands lay pinned by Jack, bared and open to whatever the alpha wanted. His eyes were dark in the musky shade of the bedroom, looking up from under his lids at his alpha.

Jack slid his hand beneath Rhys’ collar, pushing it aside and exposing more creamy skin. Rhys hummed, his throat vibrating as Jack moved his palm down to the very topmost part of his chest, pushing the fabric against the first button. It popped open, showing off even more of the omega’s chest. Jack lowered his mouth to press against the soft skin, wetting it before his teeth pressed in.

He left dark, possessive marks all over Rhys’ neck and collar, painting him with bruises as he unbuttoned his omega’s shirt, letting it fall open against the bed. His pants met a similar fate, tossed carelessly down against the floor to reveal Rhys’ body in full.

He looked right with his naked torso splayed out against the bed of furs and wools, his tattoos and cybernetic the only mementos of the world back on Helios. But Jack could easily ignore them when he pressed his nose against the soft skin of Rhys’ hips and stomach and inhaled that woodsy, primal smell that drove the movement of his hips, hands, teeth.

Rhys was already slick when Jack stuck his fingers in, loose enough that he didn’t have to spend all that much time stretching and scissoring before Rhys was arching his back and begging for more and now and how could Jack hold back when his cock was viciously hard in his pants and his libido was begging to break free?

He snapped his belt off and shoved his pants down his hips, not bothering to strip himself completely yet. His undershirt almost felt like a second skin anyway, plastered to his body and every movement of his muscles and arching spine as he grabbed Rhys’ hips and hefted them up against his groin. Rhys keened at the show of strength, grasping for his alpha as Jack pushed his cock right into his slick hole.

Rhys clenched tight as Jack pressed all the way to his core, wrapping his thighs around his hips and holding him close as the alpha started to rut senselessly inside of him, starting shallow but fierce as his slid in and out of Rhys’ entrance.

On Helios Jack might let Rhys sit on top of him or satisfy himself with lazier, slower sex, but here, surrounded by wilderness and utterly alone, divorced from needling subordinates and posters of himself Jack needed to lay claim to something as real and grounded as the omega pinned underneath him, utterly lost in the pleasure wrought from Jack’s powerful thrusts and fingers that tugged through Rhys’ hair as he finished devouring his omega’s neck.

Arousal clustered like heavy, roiling clouds in his stomach, Rhys’ smell growing clear to the point of unbearable and Jack just wanted to flood himself in it, his teeth raking over the circular tattoo on Rhys’ neck as if trying to replace it with his own, inked-in saliva. Rhys’ cries pitched into a wail and kissed his ears, and Jack could feel something warm suddenly splash against his stomach. Slick squeezed out of the omega’s hole as his body shuddered in orgasm, trying to milk Jack to a knot. The alpha cursed into Rhys’ skin, his mouth still latched onto the slope between his neck and shoulder. The iron in his blood tasted sweet, warm and tender as a freshly cut steak.

When it came Jack’s orgasm cleaved conscious thought from his body, his hips moving mindlessly as his knot swelled with need and stuck itself deep inside of Rhys. He snarled, his canines digging hard into the omega’s shoulder, his cock pouring release out into Rhys’ willing, pliant body. The storm in Jack’s groin fully unleashed as Rhys accepted every last inch, every last drop.

Jack’s muscles twitched as he held himself propped up on the elbows, whole body shuddering throughout the length of his orgasm. Rhys panted in their shared space when Jack finally lifted his mouth from his shoulder to properly look at his omega.

Rhys’ cheeks were flushed as the dying sun outside, now draining to pink as the night claimed it. He could barely keep his eyes open but Jack could still make out the faint glimmers of affection in their depths. Rhys’ lips pulled into a gentle smile, all pink and satisfied. Jack usually felt good after sex, but seeing his omega relaxed, his instincts sated to overflowing? Had his ego nice and lofty.

“Looks like you enjoyed that,” the alpha chuckled as he laid himself besides Rhys, turning him slightly to keep the knot inside him comfortable.

“Think…we definitely both needed this vacation…to properly unwind…” Rhys breathed as he nuzzled closer, letting their foreheads rest together. Jack nodded, hand lifting to cradle Rhys’ face, drawing his brimming, sweet scent in.

“It’ll be getting cold soon…tell me that firewood wasn’t just for show.” Jack’s arms wound tighter around Rhys’ waist as the omega lazily draped a leg over his hip.

“Mmm…in a second, sugar,” Jack murmured, enjoying the kisses Rhys started to pepper over his scar. “Let’s enjoy this for just a moment.”

Kinktober Day 15: Intercrural, Overstimulation, Uniforms

Detective/mob boss AU!

Rhys had just been trying to get some information.

The Hyperion was a well-known as one of Jack’s haunts, and if Rhys needed to poke around to get dirt on the mob boss he needed to mix in with the crowd there. Not that it was hard—Rhys was the youngest detective on the force, and an omega at that. Toss a trendy looking jacket over his uniform and he was pretty perfectly masked in with the rest of the dancing and grinding crowd that patronized the Hyperion on a Friday night.

Of course that didn’t mean things went easy for him.

Despite his training, despite years of practice keeping a cool head, he quickly found himself overwhelmed by the miasma of scents and sexuality that seeped into his nose no matter where he went. It’d been awhile since Rhys had been with somebody and though he was on suppressants the tingling in his stomach and thickness in his senses wouldn’t stop. He ordered a shot of vodka hoping it would calm his nerves but it did the opposite, making him even more susceptible to the scents of the club goers. Eventually he stumbled towards what he hoped was a more secluded part of the club—near the back, where some booths and larger tables sat reserved—hoping to clear his head enough to make this investigation not a total wash and a black mark on his record.

There, fortunately—or unfortunately, he was confused as to which anymore—he found Jack. Rather, Jack’s hands grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up from where he’d been hunched over trying to get a hold of himself.

“Well well well,” Jack crooned, voice almost inaudible below the din of the club, “didn’t expect to find you here, pumpkin. Taking in the local color?”

Before Rhys could respond or drag the pieces of his professionalism back into place Jack ushered him towards a black door in the way back. Rhys tensed, suddenly struck with fear Jack was taking him somewhere private so he could intimidate him or hurt him or worse. But all that lay beyond the door was a fairly nice looking set of stairs, and above that another door that led into a small foyer. And that’s where Rhys couldn’t take it anymore.

Later he was probably going to blame the vodka—maybe the bartender snuck something in there—or the fact that he’d been surrounded by young and virile club-goers while suffering his own sexual drought. Whatever the reason he found himself wrapped around Jack the moment they were in private, lips crashing together as he wound his arms around the mob boss’s neck.

Jack didn’t bother rebuking him or shoving him off. He returned Rhys’ passion in equal kind, devouring the young detective’s mouth as he unzipped his jacket and let it fall to the floor below.

“Mmm. Do love me a man in uniform,” Jack purred, tracing his fingers over the holsters belted over Rhys’ chest. “Thought you were gonna get into trouble tonight, sugar?”

Rhys moaned as Jack grasped the strap and tugged, moving him out of the entryway and towards the bedroom. Jack settled on the bed first before he pulled Rhys down atop him, forcing the detective to sit in his lap.

“Think the only trouble you’re gonna be tangling with is me, though. And good thing.” Jack’s hot breath kissed along his ear, getting Rhys’ already tingling spine shivering for more. “You were getting a little overwhelmed back there. Too much heat for you?”

“N-No…I can handle a lot more than that…” Rhys whined as Jack’s kept him in place, the alpha’s boner already prominent against his rear.

“Oh I’m sure you can, I’m sure you. But I wanna save the main event for another time, pumpkin. Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun, though.” Jack reached around Rhys’ to unbuckle his belt, the omega’s badge clinking as it fell aside. He moaned as Jack slid down his uniform pants, pushing them down until they hung just below the knees. Jack’s own pants soon followed and yet, though Rhys was slick enough to feel embarrassed even through the alcohol, the alpha didn’t try to push his cock inside him. Instead, Jack lifted him just enough to slide his shaft between the detective smooth thighs. Rhys turned his head, confused until Jack pressed his thighs closed and thrusted their exposed cocks together.

Rhys hissed and jerked back against Jack’s body, the tingling amplifying tenfold as the alpha started to jerk his cock between Rhys’ thighs, shaft rubbing up against every sensitive part of his genitals. He panted and cringed at the overwhelming feeling, the sexual tension in his stomach wound up in the club finally getting some relief. It was almost too much, especially with Jack’s huge, possessive hands on his thighs and the way the strap of his holsters was starting to squeeze his chest and rub his nipples into hardness. The omega couldn’t control him as slick and cum leaked out of him, an utter mess in the lap of a hardened criminal and yet in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. Rhys just wanted the feeling of Jack—rutting up against him, enveloping him in his alpha musk, biting the side of his neck—to not stop until he was done milking himself of need.

But Jack didn’t stop when Rhys finally came, silky release splashing up against the hem of his uniform shirt. No, the alpha was still hard against Rhys’ now-limp cock, and he still rutted in between his thighs so hard Rhys felt they might be rubbed raw. The detective gasped in protest, trying to push himself off of Jack’s lap but the alpha held him still, continuing to fuck his thighs until finally he came and painted the chafed flesh with warm seed.

“Shhh, babe, you were great. Everything I imagined you’d be.” Jack answered to Rhys’ gasping moans as he laid him down on his side. The omega’s head spun, leaving him no choice but to lay in Jack’s arms as he stroked his chest and stomach and smirked against the back of his neck.

Rhys let his eyes slide shut and swallowed, trying not to think about just how irrevocably he’d screwed things up.

Kinktober Day 15: Forniphilia

Honestly, this was a bit of a test.

Jack had been training Rhys’ stamina for quite a while now, but this party would be the ultimate means of determining whether all that had worked.

Rhys stood on all fours between one of the pairs of leather couches in a corner of the party away from the main traffic streaming in from the double doors. Jack stood nearby, ensuring his lover’s safety as well as watching Rhys for signs of weakness. He could see the slight tremble in his limbs from this close but Rhys still held firm, his wrists and ankles held at a steady distance apart by two elegant gold spreader bars.

A bottle of wine and a couple undisturbed glasses sat atop the panel strapped to Rhys’ back, held still by his straight, trained posture. Jack watched people walk by, glancing in disgust or morbid interest in Rhys’ direction but he cared little about their opinions. If they wanted to attend his parties, they’d have to play by his rules.

“Well, if no one’s gonna be brave enough to have a drink with me…might as well be the firs to crack this open.” Jack took a seat in one of the large chairs, leather squeaking underneath his weight as he reached for the wine and corkscrew sitting near the edge of the “table” sitting just above Rhys’ ass. He couldn’t resist a small stroke to his lower’s leather clad cheeks before popping the cork out of the bottle neck.

“You must be thirsty, huh Rhysie? Too bad, though,” Jack addressed his lover’s bowed head. No noise came from behind the gag covering his mouth, and the blindfold made it hard to read Rhys’ expression in any meaningful fashion. The trembling in his legs and arms continued but he still held steady.

“If you make it, though, you’ll be handsomely rewarded later. Get it?” Jack purred as he sloshed the dark red wine into the glass, gazing at Rhys over the rim. “I’ll be screwing you in all the ways you’ve craving right now, you sicko.”

He could see Rhys’ bulge hanging heavy in his leather shorts, a sure sign Rhys didn’t hate being on display and made to submit like an object. Jack smirked, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip of the lukewarm, syrupy liquid.

“Just another couple hours, pumpkin.” Jack nudged the toe of his dress shoe against Rhys bound wrist as he smacked his lips, feeling the alcohol join the amused feeling in his stomach.

Kinktober Day 13: Weight Gain, Creampie

Jack had first noticed something weird about Rhys’ clothing about a week ago.

Usually, his PA wore that vest and teal shirt combo, with his nerdy red tie running up the middle. Jack got used to it just as he got used to Rhys bringing him coffee and tapping the toe of his boot against the floor when he was thinking. So when that changed, when Rhys walked into the office one morning wearing a dark grey turtleneck, Jack couldn’t help but think why. Especially when the omega didn’t acknowledge it.

He’d made a conscious choice to pay attention to Rhys’ outfits after he’d noticed the change the first time. Sure enough, Rhys wore sweaters or jackets every single day of the week. He didn’t bother shrugging them off when he go to the office, either, keeping them on from the moment he handed Jack his coffee in the morning to when he said goodbye at the end of the day.

Naturally, Jack got suspicious.

He rested his chin on his tented fingers one workday as he waited for Rhys to arrive, mind occupied less with the morning’s schedule and more with exactly why his PA had decided to change up his wardrobe.

“Maybe he’s hiding something?” Jack muses aloud, tapping a finger against his lip. Sure, that could be it. But what would Rhys even need to hide? Jack knew him inside and out thanks to both his company profile and the fact that they’d spent the last few months working in close contact with each other. If Rhys had some weird scars or injuries or new cybernetics he was trying to hide, Jack would probably know about it right?

He remained largely in the same, contemplative position up until Rhys finally walked in with a coffee in each hand and a handle bag looped around his wrist and—sure enough, instead of the vest and shirt combo Jack had grown used to, he wore a deep navy sweater instead. It looked good on him, sure—almost everything did, Rhys was just like that—but it’s mere existence bugged the hell out of Jack. Rhys must’ve noticed his scrutiny, because as he walked close enough to Jack’s desk to set the man’s coffee atop it, he raised his eyebrow.

“Jack? Is something wrong?” I’m not late am I—no, I’m not late,” he corrected, presumably checking the time on his ECHOeye. But Jack was already up, getting close enough to Rhys in one long stride before he grabbed the hem of his PA’s sweater and pulled it up.

Rhys squawked and started so hard he nearly fell over. Jack’s hand shot out to steady him, though his grip was light and distracted as he gazed at what lay beneath Rhys’ sweaters.

No scars, no injuries. No fancy new prosthetics or implants or anything. Not even new tattoos. Nothing like that.

Rhys just looked…well…like he’d packed on a few pounds.

Jack gaped as Rhys struggled to pull down the hem of his shirt only for the CEO to catch his wrist and hold it aloft. Little frustrated mewls snorted from Rhys as he turned his head to the side, his cheeks colored bright pink.

“You…will you stop staring?” He hissed, but Jack paid it little mind. His eyes scanned over how Rhys had filled out, his pale stomach and hips spilling out slightly over the waistband of his pants. Little red marks curled up diagonally along his torso, and from under the rucked-up hem of Rhys’ sweater he could see the soft, rounded undersides of his tattooed pecs.

“Okay, you’ve had your fun. I get it.” Rhys tried wriggling away, face set in a pout. “I was trying to…I knew you’d just tease me so I didn’t want to deal with it, okay?”

“Tease you? Over what?” Jack cocked his head to the side, finally lifting his head from Rhys’ middle to look his PA in the eye. “It doesn’t look bad on you, sugar, just…what’s going on?”

Rhys huffed, though as Jack lowered the hem of his sweater he looked a little more relieved.

“Something-something omega genetics, all right? The details don’t really matter but…in the wintertime my body likes to stock up, okay? So I get a little…like this.”

“Wintertime? Babe, did you forget we’re on a space station?”

“No, but my body doesn’t know that.” Rhys frowned. “Can we just drop it? It’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? Oh, no no no,” The hand grabbing Rhys’ wrist released it, before both of Jack’s palms pressed under the omega’s sweater and against his full hips, giving them a seductive squeeze. “Pumpkin, this isn’t embarrassing. This is sexy as hell.”

Fortunately, it didn’t take much more convincing to get Rhys to—at least for the time being—accept the fact that Jack really did appreciate what winter weight did to his body. Thankfully, too, as the sexual tension between them was starting to give Jack more grey hairs than the respectful streak he already had going.

With Rhys laying back against the desk and those wonderful thighs squeezed around his waist Jack finally found himself knotting inside of his PA, leaving him wonderfully sticky and messy with cum once he finally pulled out and away. Rhys panted, his sweater all the way rucked up and over his chest, leaving his perfect body totally on display as Jack affectionately pressed against his stomach, enjoying the soft sink of his flesh as cum and slick leaked out of his hole.

“You know…” Jack purred as he kissed over the bites he’d left on Rhys’ pecs, leaning into the fingers stroking through his hair, “now that I know what’s underneath, I don’t really mind the sweaters.” He kissed one of Rhys’ reddened nipples before smirking up at his PA. “They’re cute. Though if you wanted to go back to wearing something tighter I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Rhys chuckled breathily, his hand urging Jack to lean over and kiss him as he wound his legs back around the CEO’s hips.

“If it gets you to knot me like that again, I’ll wear anything you want me to.”

Kinktober Day 14: Tentacles, Distention, Asphyxiation

Idk why Jack has weird purple energy tentacles, he just does

Rhys didn’t know exactly where the tentacles were coming from.

It…it sort of looked like they were emanating out from Jack’s body, some unfurling from underneath the hem of his sweater while others curled around his waist and hips, floating towards Rhys like boneless, ethereal fingers.

“Jack?” Rhys tried, taking one step back when he got no response. When he’d gotten the message to meet his boss down at the office, he’d gone with little hesitation, not anticipation this—whatever it was. His brain raced for understanding as he tried to process the scene before him and whether there was anything he could do to help.

Or if he should run away.

Energy suddenly scintillated along Jack’s scar like a muted bolt of lightning, momentarily freezing Rhys in place as his heart leapt in fear, but then the first of the tentacles reached out and touched his flesh hand.

The effect was immediate. Rhys’ fingers twitched as his skin suddenly felt both warm and numb, like some kind of analgesic that spread out over his arm as the tentacle wound up to his shoulder. Rhys’ feet stumbled forward as more tentacles joined the first, tugging him closer and closer to Jack as they started to properly explore his body. Rhys started as one started to feel at the collar of his shirt, pulling it aside to touch his chest.

“H-Hey, wait—“ Rhys tried to grab the tentacle with his cybernetic hand. Immediately, sparks flared up from his fingers, nearly blinding him with purple light as his arm suddenly swung back down to his side like a pendulum, weighty and unresponsive. Rhys’ heart leapt, alarmed at the sudden disabling of his cybernetic, only for the tentacles to massage against his skin with their soothing warmth.

“…Jack?” Rhys spoke, voice starting to edge into breathy as the other man stepped closer, looking him up and down as the tentacles started to undress him. Rhys still had no idea why this was happening and by the distant yet interested expression on Jack’s face, he knew he wasn’t about to get any explanation. At least until after Jack and whatever these things were had their fun.

It didn’t take long for the tentacles to get his shirt open and his pants down around his knees and by that point his skin was simmering with warmth, feeling stronger beneath the immediate path of the appendages as they held and stroked him.

Through dazed eyes he could see the tips of the tentacles trailing something filmy and translucent all over his body, like the tracks of a snail. They dripped as they bunched down between his legs, one curling around his cock while the others started to push into his hole. Rhys gasped—unused to sudden intrusion with little prep—but with the soothing sensation and slick lube of the appendages he soon found himself relaxing into the feeling.

He grew so lost within the sensation, as the tentacles pushed up inside of him, leaking so much fluid that his stomach started to slightly bulge outwards, that he almost leapt when something much more solid and less slimy stroked his face. He opened his eyes—unsure when exactly he’d closed them—to see the glow of Jack’s scar and the intensity in his gaze, now mere inches from his face.

Rhys heard someone say his name in his head and it sounded vaguely like Jack, but almost distorted, as if radioed in from galaxy’s away. He smiled foolishly anyway, leaning in to meet his lover’s lips in a loose kiss.

As Rhys kissed Jack, as the tentacles pulsed and writhed inside of him and touched his body and jerked off his cock, he could feel his need winding up inside of him like a knot about to be pulled apart. He wasn’t uncomfortable with the tentacles and fullness inside him, nor the helplessness he might usually worry about. Rhys felt like floating, his body numb and cybernetic arm limp and unnecessary as Jack’s appendages cradled him like softly curling galaxies.

Rhys didn’t even realize one of the tentacles was wrapped around his throat, digging into his airways. He lolled his tongue out of his mouth when Jack pulled away from the kiss, saliva dripping dow his chin as it squeezed him tightly, as if needing to make a point to its existence. Rhys didn’t care—it all felt so good, so warm and wonderful that he didn’t even realize what the tentacle was doing until it let go with one final squeeze, letting Rhys gasp for breath. And with the sudden, unexpected unwinding he finally came, his release a pearly purple in the light emanating from Jack’s tentacles.

This time, when he sagged back, his legs going to jelly from orgasm, strong, inflexible arms caught him. Rhys’ head tipped forward as he draped his weight against Jack’s, the numb comforting feeling not fading even as the ethereal tentacles around them did.

Kinktober Day 13: Distracted Sex, Gags

For once Jack actually needed to pay attention. So of course, Rhys go it into his head that he wanted to get down and dirty during this pretty important video call.

Jack grunted as he stood at his desk, pushing at Rhys’ hand as it tried to trail up his bicep to his shoulder. He was still waiting for the rest of the participants to connect to the call, but he didn’t need to get into anything right now, no matter how insistent Rhys acted. Or how sensually he touched him. Or how much he batted his eyelashes or parted his lips or tried any of his usual tricks. Nuh-uh. Jack wasn’t gonna give into this until he’d finished business for the day.

Of course Rhys wasn’t gonna give up either, though. Jack let out a warning growl, briefly taking his eyes away from the spinning circle on the video call’s loading screen. It would go live any minute now, but Rhys wasn’t taking the hint. His pale fingers stroked over to Jack’s chest, bumping over the cloak clipped to his lapel before he rubbed into the soft material of his sweater.

“Jack, c’mon—“

“Hey.” Jack stopped him as he pressed his finger to Rhys’ lip, eyebrows knit in frustration. “You wanna have some fun, sweetheart? You better keep your mouth shut while daddy’s busy.”

Rhys wasn’t gonna ease up? Fine. He could do what he wanted as long as he behaved long enough for Jack to finish up his call.

Rhys mimed a zipper over his mouth as he got down on his knees, only for Jack to shake his head and grip the knot of the tie around his neck.

“Oh no, pumpkin. Sorry, this is a real important call, and I just don’t trust you not to let something slip.” Jack unclipped the tie, familiar with the fact that Rhys could knot a real one to save his life, before balling it together and pushing the red fabric between Rhys’ teeth. His boyfriend’s eyes narrowed, slightly affronted even as he moved to kneel between Jack’s legs. The CEO kept his eye on the screen floating in front of him, angling it up and away from his lap as the rest of the participants started to filter in. Any moment now he’d be ready to start. His eyes flitted down to watch as Rhys shimmied down his pants, procuring a tiny tube of lube from his pants so he could finger himself open. Jeez. Had Rhys really been planning this? Couldn’t wait a half hour ’til the meeting was done?

Apparently not, because Rhys didn’t spend too much time prepping himself before he turned around and pushed his bare ass up against Jack. He reached behind himself, carefully grasping the base of Jack’s cock as he tried to direct it into his hole. The CEO’s expression flickered even as he tried to keep it steady, tried to pay more attention to the images on the voice call’s screen. He tilted the monitor up just enough to block any hint of wrongdoing as Rhys finally managed to get Jack’s cock inside of him with a small gasp.

Jack tensed, trying to keep a calm face and focus as he started speaking to those gathered at the call as he stood at his desk, giving Rhys a little bit more space to fuck himself on Jack’s cock.

The CEO tried his best to pay proper attention—much as he didn’t like it, he’d need agreement, coerced or otherwise, from the heads of the main departments to move forward with his current plans—but with the eager movements of Rhys’ hips and the barely audibly moans Jack could nevertheless make out from behind the damp tie stuffed in his boyfriend’s mouth made it harder. Though with Rhys doing most of the work, he could almost zone out and just enjoy the pleasurable feelings in his stomach while his brain groped for words whenever someone in the call asked him a question.

“What? Oh yeah, sure,” he replied to the head of Marketing without really hearing what he was saying. Jeez, was Rhys always strong enough to fuck himself on Jack’s dick like this? Maybe it was the arm.

He could feel his knees growing a little weak thanks to his mountain arousal, but if he sat down there’d be little way to hide Rhys’ from the rest of the call. Not that he cared what they thought of him or his sexual appetites, but it’d be even harder to properly focus with Rhys grinding in his lap and blocking his view.

By the time Jack wrapped things up and managed to tap the End Call button he was teetering on the brink, finally reaching down to grab Rhys and hoist him properly up. He pushed his PA down against the desk, right through the hologram, and roughly snapped his hips. His hands pressed hard against the back of Rhys’ neck, earning a muffled choke from behind the gag.

“You’re so—ugh—naughty—“ Jack growled through his teeth as he thrusted harder into Rhys, finally tipping over the edge only a couple moments later. He buried himself inside his PA, forcing the both of them to come in tandem, with Rhys splattering all over the surface of the desk.

“Like how it feels when I give you my full attention?” Jack laid over Rhys’ body to coo in his boyfriend’s ear, garnering a satisfied moan.

Kinktober Day 12: Costume, Rimming

Jack thought it was pretty bold of his current hookup to go to a Halloween party pregnant.

He figured most omegas would wanna avoid gatherings full of raucous, drunken alphas and betas while carrying a bun in the oven, but this Rhys had a little more spunk than the usual omegas Jack tried to hook up with. And a cybernetic arm that could probably swing a mean hook if anyone got a little too handsy.

…Well, anyone other than Jack. Rhys seemed pretty okay with letting Jack get all up in his business.

After some light conversation—which quickly progressed to heavy flirting on the behalf of both parties—Jack brought Rhys away from the main floor of the party and into one of the little rooms far enough away from the action that no one would bother them. With the door closed Jack could properly get down to business, his hands groping the omega’s hips as he brought their lips together, groaning as he finally tasted Rhys’ sweet mewling.

Sweet really was apt, too, considering Rhys’ costume. That’d been the first thing to catch Jack’s eye—in a sea of generic vampires, werewolves, and masquerade masks, the waffle cone printed pants and ice cream scoop dress shirt definitely stood out. Helped too that the omega was a beauty and exuded delightful pregnancy hormones from all the way across the dance floor. Jack had flocked to him like a magnet, and now his hands and mouth could properly indulge in this unexpected treat.

“Mmm….turn around, sugar,” Jack asked when he pulled away, even as his hands started to rotate Rhys towards the wall without waiting, “I wanna properly taste you. All over.”

“Y…Yes sir…” Rhys purred as he went willingly with the motion of Jack’s hands, pressing his palm against the wall as he leaned up against it, keeping his hips back to spare room for his belly. Jack’s fingers drifted to Rhys’ waistband, pulling at the stretchy material as he shimmied them down to his knees. Jack grinned at the sight of Rhys’ rear, perfectly plush and rounded and just begging to be plundered.

“God, baby, you smell so damn good,” Jack groaned as he sunk to his knees, leaving him face to face with Rhys’ cheeks, which he quickly parted to get where he really wanted. He could smell and feel the warmth radiating from Rhys’ slick hole, the scent making him salivate. He pulled the omega’s cheeks apart, admiring Rhys’ hole for a brief moment before pressing his mouth up against it.

Jack felt the shudder that wrung through Rhys’ body, filling him with pride and need as he pressed the flat of his tongue up against the omega’s hole, tasting him proper for the first time and god did he taste amazing.

Rhys shifted his hips back, rutting up against Jack’s mouth as if to urge him deeper. Not one to deny such a precious, pregnant omega, Jack began to probe his tongue against Rhys’ slick hole before forcing the tip inside.

Wonderfully, the moan that rung out of Rhys’ was just as delicious as his taste. Jack shivered, already convinced this was going to end up a great night after all.

Kinktober Day 12: Licking, Pet Play

Jack liked the responsiveness of Rhys’ new ears. They were much better than the felt headband they’d been using beforehand, which sufficed enough at the time but lacked that something special to take their roleplay to the next level.

It connected to Rhys’ port through a slim silver cable, syncing with the cybernetic implants that helped process his emotions and motor function.

They weren’t exactly realistic in their look—made up of sleek chrome forms but lighted on the inside by flickering blue LEDs—but Jack didn’t mind. He liked how they would twitch when Rhys felt curious or lay back against his head when he was offended. And of course whenever Jack touched them they would flick and flutter against his hand, responding in kind as Rhys leaned into his palm with a smile and a satisfied purr.

Every time Jack came home to see Rhys had stripped down to his boxers and plugged the ears in, he felt comforted and relaxed, more than willing to let his little kitten explore his body and do whatever his instincts told him to.

Today Jack pulled off his jacket tossed it onto the arm of the couch before plopping down on a cushion, a tell-tale chime ringing out from the hallway as Rhys bounded out into the living room and made a bee-line right for the CEO sitting on the couch.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore, eyes, sweetheart?” Jack reached out to stroke Rhys’ ears as soon as he got close enough to hop atop the couch. Rhys rubbed his face against Jack’s chest, a happy purr warbling in his throat as Jack pet his head and scratched his artificial ears.

The young man lifted his head after a moment, nuzzling from Jack’s chest all the way up to his jaw. Jack tilted his chin back, giving Rhys access as he opened his mouth and pressed it affectionately up against his skin.

Rhys’ tongue felt a lot better than a real cat’s probably would—nice and soft and wet, lapping all over Jack’s cheeks and lips in sloppy kisses before dipping his head to lick along his neck and collarbone.

Rhys rested his hands atop Jack’s shoulders as he licked all over the man’s face, earning snickers from the older man as he tickled his skin. Soft, happy little mewls trilled in between each lap, Rhys utterly eager to please as he seated himself in Jack’s lap and enjoyed the broad hands rubbing his ears and stroking down his spine.

“This is the kind of welcome I’m talking about…” Jack crooned as he continued to pet his kitten, already thinking where he really wanted Rhys to lick next.

Kinktober Day 11: Object Insertion

Jack was way too tired to properly fuck Rhys right now.

Too bad Rhys wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Even though Jack had already curled himself up on the couch with a glass in one hand and a nearly-finished bottle of wine in the other, Rhys wouldn’t let up. No, he plopped himself right down on the cushion next to Jack, dressed in a yellow sweater snatched from the laundry basket and that pair of flimsy blue shorts that Rhys knew Jack liked best. But the alpha wasn’t gonna give in. After a long day in the office, he was tired and for once not in a mood to please his omega.

“Babe, c’mon,” Jack moaned as Rhys planted both hands atop his thighs, trying to get into his space. The pout on Rhys’ face was hard to ignore—as was the twitch in Jack’s crotch—but it wasn’t near enough to get Jack to pop up and do what Rhys clearly wanted him to do.

“Jack, don’t tell me you’re tired, I’ve been waiting all day,” Rhys moaned, one hand leaving Jack’s thigh to slide up against his stomach, picking up the hem of his shirt. “You know my heat’s right around the corner.”

“Bullcrap, Rhysie, it’s not for another couple weeks. You’re just being needy,” Jack growled as he poured the rest of the wine into his glass, gripping the neck of the bottle tight as he took a long, gratifying sip. Rhys pouted at him from behind the glass as he shifted closer, scent needling. Jack tried to ignore it and listen more to the throbbing in his body and his need to get nice and tipsy.

“Please? Jack, don’t leave me hanging.” Rhys nearly clawed at Jack’s stomach in his haste, nearly causing him to choke on his wine. Jack gasped, a little trickle of red running down his lips.

“Damn it, pumpkin, you—“ Jack let his glass clatter against the side table as his fingers gripped into Rhys’ collar, yanking him over his lap. “—get over here.”

Rhys landed with his hands on one side of Jack with his knees on the other, laid across his lap like a table. Jack gripped the bottle tightly as he snapped Rhys’ shorts down over his ass with the other. He pressed his palm up against the cleft between his cheeks, feeling the heat and moisture radiating from his hole. Well, Rhys hadn’t lied about being horny.

“Needy little brat…always demanding daddy’s attention…you’ll take what he wants to give you, ‘kay?” Jack grunted as he shook the mouth of the bottle against his palm, licking any remaining drops of wine from off his skin. Once he finished, he pressed his hand to the back of Rhys’ neck as he gripped the fat end of the bottle, pushing the neck between Rhys’ asscheeks.

The omega reacted instantly, crying out even as he pushed back against the foreign object pressing into his hole. Jack only grunted in response as he pushed in deeper. He initially meant it as punishment, to ward Rhys away from bothering him for sex when he clearly wasn’t interested, but as the bottle’s neck sunk deeper and Rhys’ noises grew louder, his dick pulsed and rubbed up against the inside of his fly.

“Daddy…please, more…” Rhys groaned, able to lift his head and look up as Jack’s palm moved from his neck to his shoulder. Jack bit his lip as Rhys ground down against his thighs, spurring him to begin thrusting the now-slicked bottle neck in and out of the omega.

“This is what you deserve…little brat…” Jack growled as he turned the bottle inside of Rhys before shoving in harder, getting the wider flare of the bottle further inside him, the embossed glass designs rubbing against Rhys’ sensitive flesh and getting the omega crying proper from need. Jack pressed his thighs together, warmth tingling in his belly and groin as he tried to get Rhys to orgasm as quickly as possible. But a writhing, begging omega in the lap was hard to ignore.

With one last thrust of the bottle Rhys finally came, jerking all over Jack’s pants and the couch below as his hips moved through his release. He dropped his head as he panted, eventually going all boneless in Jack’s lap, the weight of sweet-smelling omega not helping his own boner.

“…Still tired?” Rhys turned his head to ask with a sleepy smirk, his hand feeling out for Jack’s crotch. The alpha stiffened, narrowing his eyes down at Rhys as he pulled the bottle from Rhys’ ass with a quiet squelch.

“I’m gonna stay right here, pumpkin…” Jack sighed as he leaned back, spreading his legs. “But if you wanna help daddy get off…go to town. We’ll see where things go from there.

“Rhys thankfully got the hint and slid off Jack’s lap to his knees, wincing a bit in lingering memory of the stiff bottle inside him.

Kinktober Day 11: Cross-Dressing

Rhys had told Jack to go ahead to the party without him. When Jack had raised an eyebrow—knowing his boyfriend never turned his nose up at free food and alcohol—Rhys had merely insisted he’d meet up with him later.

Though suspicious, Jack went ahead anyway, wrestled in a nice tuxedo at Rhys’ insistence. However he still felt naked at this fancy shindig without his boyfriend pressed to his side. Lately they’d been nothing less than a pair no matter where they went, and Rhys’ continued absence even with the promise he’d make his appearance later had Jack all antsy.

At least until the ornate doors atop the grand staircase opened up, snapping Jack’s attention to the figure clad in white and gold, silhouetted by the light of the hallway behind him.

Jack’s heart leapt up into his throat as the figure began to descend the staircase, giving him a better look. The dress trailed on the steps like melting gold, shining in the party lights alongside the rhinestones woven into the lace bodice. Feet clad in petite white shoes took delicate strides, revealing legs beneath the hem that Jack knew all too well. Familiarity clawed at his stomach as his eyes snapped to the late arrival’s face, picking out Rhys’ features from beneath the cascading brown hair and the splash of blue and gold makeup bleeding out from the eyes.

“Holy—pumpkin? That you?” Jack gaped as he pushed his way through the stunned crowd just as Rhys reached the last stair. The young man stood, letting the hem of his dress flutter around him. He looked a little exhilarated and slightly nervous, though Jack wasn’t sure why—the entire damn ballroom must be in total awe of how wonderful he looked. Jack took one last step forward, unable to contain the grin spreading across his face as he reached for Rhys’ hand.

“Now this is a surprise,” Jack crooned as he carefully helped Rhys down the last bit of stair, amused as his boyfriend’s heels pushed him just a little bit taller. Jack lifted his hand as he kept eye contact with Rhys, brushing his lips against his silky knuckles. That earned him a chuckle from his boyfriend’s painted-pink lips.

“Well, that was kind of the point.” Rhys tilted his head, the little golden Hs in his ears softly jingling. “Bet you were expecting me to show up in a suit.”

“Mmm. Well, I didn’t know you even had this.” Jack’s other hand came to rest against Rhys’ waist, rubbing his body through the sheer, almost negligible fabric. “Oh, we’re gonna have to get a lot more mileage out of this, cupcake.”

“Just don’t rip it,” Rhys chastised as he let Jack pull him closer, neither man caring that the rest of the room still stared in their direction. “I like this outfit, I don’t want it to get wrecked by act of Jack.”

“Oh I’m sure I can work around it,” Jack purred as his hand slid down to cup the top of Rhys’ ass, smirking at his boyfriend’s shiver as he nibbled his lip. “Later, sweetheart. Lets get you full of food and alcohol first.”

Rhys’ eyes glimmered, allowing Jack to keep his hands wherever he wanted as the CEO lead him over to the refreshment table.