Tag: rhack

11 for the caretaker thing!

i had fun with this! i like thinking of new ways for these two jerks to end up hurting themselves (and then being taken care of)

They say it takes a few days to regrow an organ—yes, even with the money and resources of Handsome Jack backing it. It’s a hard pill for Rhys to swallow, considering he’s so used to any of his own hurts being treated within the day, sometimes even the hour of when he first brings it up to Jack. But he doesn’t have the energy to fight them on it, not while he’s still recovering from seeing a mercenary’s blade slash open his boyfriend’s throat.

Those first, horrible seconds where he’d felt absolutely sure that Jack had died still swirl around his mind as he tries to listen to the doctor. He holds Jack’s hand on the hospital bed, unwilling to let go now. He’s heavily sedated and his throat is covered in white gauze and medical tape instead of blood and strings of flesh, but Rhys can’t forget, no matter how much he just wants to focus on the path ahead.

The bleeding has stopped. Now the hard part begins.

The hospital lets Jack go home as soon as he’s stable, other injuries well on their way to healing. They reverse his sedation, leaving him groggy and loaded on pain meds but otherwise awake. Rhys helps his boyfriend into the Hyperion-branded wheelchair, taking last minute instructions from the doctor before an armed entourage leads them back to the penthouse.

Rhys may not have the clout of his injured boyfriend, but he can be commanding enough in a pinch.

Once they’re back home Rhys finally lets himself relax a bit, the comforting scents washing away the smell of disinfectant and residual blood the former hasn’t managed to scrub away. He carefully wheels Jack into the bedroom, murmuring soft encouraging words that he’s not sure his boyfriend comprehends as he steers the chair over the carpet and to the bedside.

Jack murmurs unintelligible in response as Rhys carefully slides one hand under his knees and the other under his back. Usually, it’s the other way around Rhys’ brain unhelpfully supplies as he hefts his boyfriend up into his arms with as much care as he can muster. Jack’s definitely a lot heavier than the stacks of paper and cups of coffee Rhys is used to carrying around, but with the cybernetic he manages, situating Jack in the middle of the bed with pillows propping up his head.

Dull blue and green flicker beneath Jack’s eyelids as he struggles to keep them open. Rhys leans over him with a quiet shush, leaving the chair at the bedside in case Jack needs to use the bathroom.

“You can go back to bed, okay? Don’t force yourself to stay away if you don’t want to.” The doctor told him Jack needs two pills every six hours, and he’d taken one right before they left. He can afford to sleep.

Jack mumbles something Rhys can’t understand before his eyelids slowly start to slid shut. Rhys waits a couple seconds, watching his boyfriend, before he straightens up and makes to leave with a hundred preparations for the days to come spinning in his brain. But then Jack starts and his hand clumsily flails out, knocking against Rhys’ wrist. The young man turns back, alarmed, to see Jack’s eyes wide open now, and filled with something he doesn’t want to see—not twice in one day, not after cradling his boyfriend’s body in his arms and watching his pulsing throat bleed out.

Fear.

“Hey no, no,” Rhys tries to soothe as Jack’s throat works futilely underneath the bandages. He pushes away the chair and sits on the edge of the bed, cybernetic palm firmly planted on the mattress as he strokes the side of Jack’s face. “I know you can’t talk right now and uh, please don’t or your doctor will be mad…”

Jack seems to relax a bit at his touch, his face turning to the side to nuzzle more against Rhys’ palm.

“I just want you to know though, that I’m not going anywhere. Okay? I’m not leaving you.”

It feels corny, like Rhys is making a promise in a vintage movie, but Jack seems to take it at face value. His eyes go to flutter back closed, and after a moment his shoulders properly relax as he gives into the pull of exhaustion once more.

Rhys doesn’t leave his side, though, not until a few hours later when he wakes Jack up for his pain medication.

The next day is both harder and easier.

Jack’s far more lucid than before, and freaks out a little less when Rhys has to excuse himself to use the bathroom or make some food. He takes his pills obediently and drinks water when Rhys presses a glass to his lips.

But Rhys can tell he’s not comfortable with not being able to speak.

He keeps opening his mouth, expecting that commanding tone and “sharp” wit to come flooding out, and though he understands what’s happening there’s still always a moment of bemusement before reality hits back in, and that moment is as painful for Rhys to watch as it surely is for the CEO to experience.

It must be hard for a man like Jack, who has always tasked himself to fill his own silence. There’s nothing now to keep the space around him occupied, to speak aloud in attempt to feel less alone.

Thankfully, Rhys is here.

There’s an old ECHO tablet he has from back before he got his cybernetics installed. It hasn’t been touched in years, but thankfully still boots up when connected to the wireless charger. Jack raises his eyebrow when Rhys first slips it into his hand, until he switches over to the text function.

“See? Maybe it’s not the same, but it’ll do for right now, you think?” Jack’s other eyebrow joins the first one, creasing his forehead. “Give it a try?”

Jack smirks, before tapping his fingers against the screen. Rhys sits patiently on the edge of the bed until the CEO turns the tablet towards him.

Hi cupcake, the glowing blue letters on the screen display.

Rhys snorts.

“Hey, Jack.”

For the first time since the incident, that gets him a smile. Rhys can’t help but grin back as Jack turns the screen back towards himself, tapping out a longer message before flipping it back for Rhys to see.

Kind of quiet without me, huh? You’re gonna have to work on being more entertaining.

“Entertaining, huh?” Rhys puts his hand to his chest in mock affront. “I’m a little more focused on making sure you’re properly washed and clothed and fed, mister.”

Jack clicks his tongue in a amusement, propping the ECHO on his chest as he snuggles deeper into the bed. His whole demeanor seems brighter as he types, grateful to have a proper means of communication outside of frustrating gestures and expressions.

Speaking of food, I’m starving. What did that quack say I could eat?

“Uh, soft things mostly? I had them deliver a lot of stuff so I didn’t have to go out…mashed potatoes, apple sauce, protein drinks…”

Jack wrinkles his nose, adding ew, I’m not a baby after the end of his last message.

“So you say…” Rhys teases lightly before rubbing his chin. “Well, uh…what do you want? As long as it’s not too solid I can get you whatever.”

Jack’s expression crinkle in thought for a moment, before a wide, toothy grin spreads across his face. He quickly deletes the previous message before turning the screen back to Rhys.

Ice cream. Jack’s eyes twinkle with delight over the top of the tablet.

“Oh, you’re really milking this aren’t you?” Under normal circumstances Rhys might be offended over Jack asking him to sacrifice a portion of his super hard-earned ice cream stash. But, well. He had survived an assassination attempt, hadn’t he?

And if a little bit of ice cream is the thing to keep Jack happy and healthy then well, Rhys is more than willing to take the hit.

“A Quiet Night on a Dark Country Road”

This kid looked different. Even with his body broken by grievous injuries, Jack could tell he was taller and longer-limbed than most omegas, and his clothes weren’t exactly the fancy couture worn by the high-class mates of Jack’s associates. Plain shirt and tie and pants, like he’d just been plucked by one of Hyperion’s own cubicle farms.

The blood looked black thanks to the night, looked like something was eating the omega alive. It covered his entire body, soaking into his clothes and matted into his hair. Jack could see every awful detail as he knelt by him, hand floating out to caress the sliver of air around his skull, suddenly too afraid to touch him.

What you’ve all been waiting for…finally the amnesia AU from months ago. This doesn’t encompass all my ideas for this story, so if you wanna see more, let me know.

Jack had sobered up over an hour ago, just as the party started winding down. Jack only bothered telling a handful of people goodbye, too tired to pretend to care about the rest of the nobodies gathered, most of who had spent half the night transparently trying to curry his favor. Now only thinking about how much he wanted to be in his own bed, he’d gotten into his car and flicked on his favorite, late-night radio station.

He sped out of the city, out of suburbia, the neon lights illuminating the world around him gradually fading and shrinking as he drove further into the countryside. Someday his commute felt like a bitch, and more than once he’d considered buying a penthouse in the city for the weekdays, but tonight, with nothing but the moon glowing on the road and grass and shifting trees around him he felt as peace even as he pushed eighty miles on the speedometer.

By the time he turned off of the highway and onto the road that’d lead him to his estate, he’d almost completely zoned out—to the point where he almost didn’t see the body laying prone in the middle of the asphalt.

Jack’s head rocked violently forward and back against the seat rest as he stomped on the breaks. His spine twinged, straps of the seatbelt biting so hard into his chest he’d probably have bruises their later. He swore, smacking his palms against the steering wheel as he caught his stunned breath, before straining in his seat and trying to get a good view of the road in front of him, but all he could make out was a hand laying limp and illuminated by his headlights, the rest now obscured by the hood of his car. His vision popped in lingering pain as he wrenched off the seatbelt and stalked out of his car on wobbly legs to get a proper look.

Above the scent of blood and gas he could eke out the barest scent of something soft and sweet, a scent recognizable by instinct. Jack’s nostrils flared as he sniffed.

Kid was an omega.

…Crap.

Jack had grown use to high-society omegas belonging to new-money families stuck in old-money values, who stayed mostly quiet apart unless spoken to, who dressed to impress but do little else otherwise. Beautiful but placid, decorations rather than people.

Jack’s instinct to bust open stuffy conventions always drove him to strike up conversations with these people, just to watch their alphas heads spin, but they almost never took the bait, leaving Jack more annoyed than anything. Gradually, he’d stopped bothering to try to talk to them.

But this kid looked different. Even with his body broken by grievous injuries, Jack could tell he was taller and longer-limbed than most omegas, and his clothes weren’t exactly the fancy couture worn by the high-class mates of Jack’s associates. Plain shirt and tie and pants, like he’d just been plucked by one of Hyperion’s own cubicle farms.

The blood looked black thanks to the night, looked like something was eating the omega alive. It covered his entire body, soaking into his clothes and matted into his hair. Jack could see every awful detail as he knelt by him, hand floating out to caress the sliver of air around his skull, suddenly too afraid to touch him.

The arm looked bad. The whole of the omega looked bad, but the arm had suffered the worst of whatever’d happened to him. Jack couldn’t  make out much aside from blood and bone, like someone had taken a hammer to the kid’s forearm and just kept whacking.

The mindless anger ignited by the first sight of the downed omega just kept building until Jack’s fingers trembled with rage and adrenaline. His alpha brain tore viciously between two base needs, for a moment leaving him paralyzed as he suddenly needed to track down whoever had done thing and rip their knot clean off their body. Thankfully, the weight of the injured omega in his arms helped to ground him, and after a few seconds of uselessly gnashing his teeth and indulging violent fantasies he worked his arms further beneath the injured man, gentling him against his chest in a protective hold.

The omega whimpered at the shift, his voice stretched and broken as his body. Jack stayed still, half cradling him in his arms as he let the omega rest his head against his shoulder.

“Shhh. Kitten. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” There was a patch of hair atop the omega’s head not crusted with blood and gravel. Jack pressed a careful kiss there, hoping it might help him relax as he murmured into his scalp.

“Don’t worry….gonna get you help.”

Calling an ambulance never crossed Jack’s mind. His estate lay far out in the countryside, surrounding on all ends by miles of grounds even he hadn’t fully explored. Barely anyone apart from himself and his staff drove these roads, and even the most experienced driver would probably get lost all the way out here. At the very least, it would take way too long for any emergency personnel to get here. Jack had an on-property doctor. It was just logical.

The less logical part of his brain was loathe to hand off this omega to anyone else, even if they were trying to to save his life.

Jack propped the omega against his chest as he eased the passenger’s side door open, before sliding him into the seat as carefully as he could muster. Things went smoothly, up until the point where he tried to pull the seatbelt across the omega’s chest. A pitiful whine suddenly choked out of the omega’s throat as he jerked forward and flecked Jack’s forearm with a mist of blood.

Jack gave up in strapping the seatbelt in lieu of racing to the driver’s seat and starting the car as fast as possible.

The choking fit stopped soon, thankfully—or not, as a sidelong glance to the omega told Jack he’d slipped into worse shape, listing against the car window. In the darkness, illuminated only by the dashboard lights, he couldn’t see if the omega was awake, and only when he dared to lift the hand off the wheel and stick it under his nose could he confirm the omega was still breathing. It brushed up against his finger, weak as the paw of a sick kitten.

Jack’s instincts pushed his foot even harder against the gas pedal.

Once his headlights illuminated the imposing gate of his estate’s front entrance, Jack barely managed to keep his fingers steady enough to punch the proper code into the keypad. When Wilhelm’s gruff voice answered over the loudspeaker he took only seconds to spit out “get Nina, emergency” before he floored it through the slowly opening gates and just barely avoiding scraping the paint off the sides of his car. His tires screeched when he finally came to a halt in front of his mansion, not bothering to pull into the garage as he jammed it into park and raced back around to the other side of the car.

The omega looked grey and felt clammy when Jack cradled him back in his arms, but he groaned at the change in position and fluttered his eyelids up at Jack. Blood smeared his lips from where he’d helplessly tried to wet them. His fingers twitched, curling into his own shirt.

The broad, dark-wood doors of Jack’s mansion banged open, the warm light from inside partially blocked by Wilhelm’s bulk.

“Boss? The hell’s going on?” His voice resounded, hoarse at the lateness of the hour but servile as he met Jack halfway, brows raised as he took in the critically injured omega cradled in the other man’s arms. A snarl rebuked Wilhelm’s attempt to take the omega from Jack, a grunt of understanding passing from between his lips as Jack rushed inside of the mansion with his guard trailing behind him.

“Is Nina awake?” Jack moved as quick as he could towards the east wing, trying to keep the omega in his arms as still as possible. Wilhelm pressed a finger to his earpiece and nodded.

“Said she’d meet us in her office.”

Jack nodded. Nina might not have the best bedside manner, and some of her home remedies occasionally edged into “utter horse-shit” territory, but she knew well enough when an emergency was an emergency and required her utmost attention and skill.

The door to the office opened up as soon as they got close, the heavy sounds of their footsteps alerting Nina to their presence. The medic still wore her slippers and her hair was down and slightly frizzy, with no time to tie them up in the usual buns. Her eyes widened as Jack bustled through, falling on the limp, bloodied man cradled in her boss’s arms.

“Is real emergency, then.” Nina stepped aside and gestured to the medical table in the center of the office. Jack clutched the omega closer to his chest as he walked over, for a moment unwilling to let him go.

What if Nina couldn’t save him? What if Jack had found him too late? Fear paralyzed him for a moment as he clung to that thin omega scent filtering through the heaviness of blood and dirt, and only a broad hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Boss,” Wilhelm whispered from above him, “set him down.”

Jack swallowed, the nod he gave tight.

“Okay.”

Somehow the omega looked even paler against the med table, skin washed out beneath the exam light. Those black splotches of blood he’d seen on the road now illuminated bright, wet red, the real extent of his injuries evident. Jack moved back, his legs feeling numb and dead, adrenaline draining out of him now that there was nothing left to do but wait and hope for the best.

After a cursory examination Nina ended up calling Gladstone, the surgical assistant similarly stumbling in with hair frazzled and eyes tired. Jack should’ve expected the omega wouldn’t be fixed up with a couple of band-aids, but the uncertainty of surgery had him bobbing his leg and grinding his teeth over where he sat, sandwiched between a wall and Wilhelm’s steady bulk.

“Is bleeding very badly,” Nina told him as she snapped on a fresh pair of gloves, “many broken bones. Will do our best.”

Her sparse words and lack of prognosis didn’t do much to quell his anxiety, leaving Jack hissing and shifting uncomfortably in his seat as they wheel the omega into the adjoining room, leaving him and Wilhelm in the silence interrupted by only the buzzing of the lights. After such a stressful hour, having nothing to do and no news to chew on left Jack with a crap-ton of riled energy with no proper outlet.

“Damn it…damn it…” He eventually hissed, the fingers on his folded arms tapping out an uneven beat. Wilhelm stayed quiet, until Jack started rocking his chair.

“Never thought I’d see you this concerned about an omega.”

Jack grunted, the front legs of his chair clacking back down against the ground. If Wilhelm was merely a hired hand, he might think that was out of line, but well. He and his guard went way back, back before Jack had even clawed into the position of Hyperion’s CEO.

“C’mon. I’m no softie, but even you would’ve stopped and helped if you found an omega smashed across the pavement.”

“Depends. Did I do it?” Wilhelm’s tone was so even and gruff Jack couldn’t even tell if he was joking.

“Ugh. Just. You know how it is.” Jack scuffed his shoe against the linoleum floor, frowning at the smear of blood his sole left behind. “Instincts take over. Seeing one of them all…like that. It just happened.”

“Mmm.” Wilhelm went more quiet after that, staying as a silent but still somewhat comforting presence as Jack waited for more news.

When Nina emerged from the surgery room, Jack prepared himself for the worst even as his stomach tied itself in knots. Thankfully, the news wasn’t as bad as he feared.

“Omega is resting for time being. Very sedated. But stable for now,” Nina dropped her gloves into the hazards box, before letting out a small yawn. “You wish to see him?”

Jack shot up so quickly he nearly lost his balance. He’d been pretty tired too, but now he was wide awake as he followed Nina into the post-op room.

God. The omega looked so much better, even with tubes and bandages covering his skin. At least Nina had washed the blood off and changed his clothes to a starchy blue hospital robe.

The heart monitor beeped, calm and thankfully steady. Jack pulled the chair up to the omega’s bedside and sat, watching his chest move up and down, breath funnel in and out of the cannula in his nose.

He still looked like crap. But at least he wasn’t actively dying anymore.

“Will need plenty of rest,” Nina spoke as she checked the omega’s IV, ensuring everything remained steady. “Don’t know when he will wake up. Hopefully not very long.”

“Sure. Thanks,” Jack mumbled back, distracted by the fact that the omega was—at least for now—all right. He heard Wilhelm mumble a small thanks to Nina before she ambled out, taking Gladstone with her.

“You know…you can go to bed, if you’d like,” Jack said to his guard after a long while spent watching the omega. “I’m…not gonna do much. If I need you I can just call you.”

“I understand.” The other chair in the room scraped up against the floor as Wilhelm took a seat besides his boss, looking sidelong at him as Jack kept staring at the prone omega.  

“This guy’s gonna owe you big time.”

Jack murmured in vague agreement. His eyelids felt heavy, body exhausted from the ordeal, but he didn’t want to sleep just yet, not when it didn’t yet feel real that the omega had lived. That the stench of blood and death had finally been scrubbed from his body, leaving that light, natural scent stronger than before, even under the layer of hospital linens and disinfectant.

Jack woke up the next morning with sunlight filtering through the blinds and his head resting on the edge of the hospital bed.

Memories of the night before came back slowly as he straightened himself up in his seat. He yawned and passed a hand over his mouth before the smells of omega cleared the sleepiness from his eyes. The first thing he saw was the heart monitor, still beeping steadily. A wave of relief passed over him as he swept his eyes over to the bed, where his heart suddenly leapt into his throat.

A pair of eyes—one blue, one brown—watched him from beneath a heavy swath of bandages.

Jack started, the scrape of his chair jarring Wilhelm awake next to him. The other alpha grunted in annoyance but Jack ignored him as he leaned towards the now awake omega, mouth opening and closing as he thought of what he should even say.

“You…you’re awake.” All right, so he was just gonna state the obvious? Way to go.

Jack watched the omega’s brows pinch together in confusion. Hi body tensed as if he wanted to move, but all he mustered was a little whine of pain that stabbed Jack in the chest.

“W…where am I…?” The omega groaned, his voice sounding like it’d been scraped across that pavement too. Jack hushed him, not wanting the kid to strain himself.

“Easy. Let’s just…uh…” Jack’s mind drew a blank, suddenly unsure of how to explain to someone that they’d been found bloodied and near death on a country road.

“You were….injured…I was the one who found you…what a nice guy, right?” Jack chuckles dryly. The omega frowned slightly, but not like he was angry, more like his brain had started to struggle with something.

“I…found me?”

“Yeah.” Jack’s hand slid onto the hospital bed, crinkling towards where the omega’s own lay before he stopped himself and glued it back to his thigh. “You were in pretty bad shape, pumpkin. No clue how you got that way.”

He didn’t want to push the omega since he’d just woke up, but if there was someone looking for him Jack should probably try to figure it out.

“You got a name? Or someone we can call for you, sugar?”

That struggling look on the omega’s face only grew worse at Jack’s words. He screwed up his expression and stuck his tongue out, but a sudden wince forced him to relax into flat bewilderment.

“I…” The omega looked up to Jack, those pretty eyes lost, searching the alpha for help. “I don’t remember.”

Did “Hold on, we’re coming” for the caretaker prompts! TPS AUs where Rhys and Jack were dating and on Elpis together are always interesting. So I took a whack at it. 

Jack shouldn’t have let Rhys go out on a mission. He should’ve kept him in the relative safety of Concordia. The kid could shoot a gun in a pinch, sure, but he’s nowhere near the level of the other vault hunters Jack hired, who apparently aren’t as good as they advertised, if they allowed Rhys to be snatched out from under their noses by a pack of scavs.

But Jack has already laid into them, and as much as he wants to rage further time’s a ticking, and he needs their help if he’s gonna storm a nest of scavs and get his boyfriend out unscathed.

Jack hates the idea of Rhys in the clutches of these frikkin’ pricks, as if being trapped on the moon away from home isn’t bad enough. He doesn’t want to know how much worse things could get, so he needs to get to Rhys as fast as possible and rip him away from their filthy hands.

He barely hears the thump of his boots as they tramp over the dust of the Outlands, the rest of his pack of hired hunters trailing behind him. He hasn’t spoken to them much aside from the initial reprimanding and a couple barked commands, doesn’t know if any of them feel guilty at all for letting his boyfriend fall into the wrong hands. Wilhelm seems impassive, focused on the mission, while Nisha looks indifferent. Athena and his double are the only ones who appear any sliver as worried as Jack is—the latter probably only because he fears what Jack will do to them if they don’t find Rhys in time.

“You four are damn lucky I can still pick up on Rhysie’s tracker,” Jack growls, shooting a tork out of the way as he bounces towards the oncoming scav encampment. “For your sake, there better not be a scratch on hi—“

Jack stops dead in his tracks as his ECHO sudden crackles, audio filled with a familiar whimper that has the programmer’s heart seizing. The hunters behind him nearly knock him over as they struggle to stop their own momentum, but Jack isn’t thinking about his team or the fact that Wilhelm is stepping on his foot as Rhys’ voice filters over the speaker of his communicator.

“Rhysie? Baby, is that you?” Jack practically yells back, clinging to this sudden scrap of hope. The ECHO’s audio stirs rhythmically, the person on the other end panting far too close to the receiver.

“Y-Yeah…” Rhys’ voice is weak, but there. He’s alive.

“Are you hurt? How many scavs do I have to blow up?” Jack tries to joke, but his anger flows through nonetheless.

“My head hurts…also I…fuck, they tried to screw up my arm…” A tense moan flits out from the ECHO.

“Easy, easy. Hold on, pumpkin, we’re coming,” Jack promises, keeping the line open as he continues to lead his team towards the compound, blood boiling hotter at the little pained noises coming in from the other end.

And then the noises stop, and Jack breaks out into a sprint.

Thankfully, when the rest of the compound lies in ruins, with it’s inhabitants scattered and splattered around the rocky terrain, Jack finds that Rhys has only passed out.

He’s a little bloody and bruised, and one of the plates on his arm is open and spilling wires, but other than that he looks pretty okay. Jack crouches besides him and carefully pats his cheek until Rhys opens his eyes.

“Hey…”

“H-Hey yourself…” Jack shakes his head, face relaxing with relief as he leans in to rest their foreheads together. “For a moment there I was really freaked out that I’d lost you.”

“Heh…don’t freak out…figure this is good hero practice, right?” A small smile forms across Rhys’ lips as Jack’s arms slip under his lanky body. “You’re getting a lot better at this…”

“Save it for when we retake Helios, ‘kay pumpkin?” Jack supports Rhys’ head against his shoulder as he carefully lifts him up in his arms. His body protests a bit, a bit battered from the fight, but strong enough to carry his boyfriend back to Concordia.

Honestly though? With Rhys safe and sound in his arms, his entourage of vault hunters trailing behind him, and the blood splattered against his boots—he feels very much the triumphant hero he really wants to be.

Ooh man I reblogged some hc/caretaker prompts earlier and one of them was “I won’t let you fall” and MAN I just had to write that

God I love things like this so much

It takes a second too long for Jack to realize what’s happening.

Pandora’s earthquakes aren’t exactly uncommon, but Jack usually likes to deal with them on flat ground rather than up on this spire-like outcropping casing the spot for a new ECHOnet tower. Not that the rumbling and sudden cascade of rocks didn’t certainly startle him, but he thinks that will be it, and they will just have to keep an eye out for aftershocks until they can get the hell off this planet.

Jack doesn’t even realized Rhys is standing that close to the edge of cliff when it happens—and that is because he isn’t, he’s separated from the long drop by a group of soldiers, up to the point where the quake causes the rocks to crumble and create a new cliff right under Rhys’ feet.

Jack’s heart plummets into his hips as Rhys teeters back on the sudden brink, arms pinwheeling as his eyes grow wide and terrified. It almost looks funny, and Jack almost wants to laugh to diffuse the fear, but then Rhys is actually falling. At the last second the PA manages to throw himself forward, chin and chest slamming hard into the ground as the rest of his body vanishes from Jack’s view.

Rhys just barely clutches at the edge of the unstable cliff as Jack starts running, his hands clumsily digging into the earth as he struggles to keep from falling. His nails claw long lines in the red sand, and Jack can sense he’s slipping, unable to hold on much longer as the ground still trembles minutely beneath him.

Jack’s feet are moving faster than the scene around him as time itself stops to observe his heroics. He drops his gun and sprints to the edge as Rhys slips away, inch by inch. Jack lunges just as Rhys disappears with a scream, desperation and adrenaline shooting him forward.

His belly scrapes agains the rocky ground as he skids forward, nearly sliding off the edge of the cliff himself as he snatches Rhys’ flailing yellow hand. He gasps at the air nearly knocked from his lungs and the sudden yank of weight at the connection between his arm and shoulder. He clenches his teeth so tightly together he feels he might grind them into dust as he digs his toes into the ground, halting his slide even as Rhys’ struggling weight tries to pull him all the way over the edge. Rhys kicks out in terror, one of his skagskin boots already lost down the cliffside.

“K-Kiddo—stop—stop—!” Jack grits out, fingers clenched in a death grip around Rhys’ wrist so tenuous he doesn’t dare sweat.

The kid is bone-white, utterly terrified beyond all reason as he dangles like a lure from the unstable cliff, trying to quell his panicked movements. People behind Jack are shouting, words that don’t make sense to him like “slope stability” and “soil liquefaction.” All he cares about is saving Rhys, anyway, so their concerns and noises are irrelevant.

“Jack—“ Rhys croaks, voice weak and reedy above the whistle of the wind and the echo of the cascading rocks. His body hangs above the dizzying drop, colors of red and blue and yellow a contrast against the faded and rusty grey terrain of the earth below. From this high up Jack can’t make out what the bottom exactly looked like, but considering the distance there’s no way Rhys would survive. The reality of the fate he’s just snagged Rhys from should make him queasy, but with adrenaline pumping through his veins all he can really think about is getting his PA up and out of danger.

“Don’t worry pumpkin, don’t worry,” the words drain out of his mouth, as if pulled down and out by gravity, “I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Some might consider it a bad move to ever trust someone like Handsome Jack, even if they were dangling off a cliff and held into the world of the living only by his hand. Others might cut off their hand themselves to spare the indignity of getting rescued by him. But Rhys—Rhys who has stuck by his side no matter what, Rhys who hasn’t for a moment ever shown a lick of betrayal or mistrust, Rhys who feels safe enough to fall asleep on Jack’s own couch—swallows around the tense lump in his throat, nods, and actually closes his eyes.

Jack’s grip tightens harder around his PA’s wrist.

Though he can feel the hands of his guards start to grip onto his hips and waist, trying to pull him back from the edge, Jack knows he’ll have to yank Rhys up the rest of the way himself if he wants to see him out of this. He tenses his jaw, summoning all the battered strength in his upper body as he lifted violently upwards with one hand.

The armored fingers of his soldiers grab at his shoulders as Jack tries to lever himself up, all joints in his arm screaming as he struggles to yank Rhys back up and over the edge. For a moment, he fears either his or Rhys’ arm will merely tear out of their sockets and send the PA crashing down the cliffside, but with a thunderous roar and tremendous  show of strength that nearly stops his breathing Jack finally pulls Rhys back up on solid ground and drags the him away from the crumbly edge.

Rhys slides against the earth like he’s melted, gasping and sobbing roughly as his nails dig back into the dirt. Jack sits flat on his ass, hand still seized tightly around Rhys’ robot arm, brain yet to catch up with the reality that Rhys is safe, that neither of them are teetering on the brink of death any longer.

“H-Holy shit—“ Rhys stammers, shaking his head back and forth as if he can’t believe he’s still alive, “that was so—Jack, I can’t believe you—“

“I know, right?” Jack interrupts, voice too loud and unstable with adrenaline. “Shoot, I thought you were a frikkin’ goner, kiddo, but look! I dragged you back from the brink of de—agh!”

Jack had tried to pump his other arm into the air in a triumphant gesture but the sudden movement sends pain lancing from shoulder to shoulder. He collapses back, finally letting go of Rhys’ hand as his fingers grow numb, pain radiating out from the joints of that arm and into his chest. He twitches and groans as the purr of adrenaline wastes away, leaving him with the pain expected from snatching a half-cyborg out of thin air.

“Ohh damn it, this? This hurts…” Jack hisses, gritted his teeth against the tearing pain and the Pandoran sunlight piercing through the veil of settling dust above. He hears the scuffle of his men around them, the distant, fuzzy radio call for a medic. The pain is spreading throughout his body, seeping in from the throbbing arm into his torso and neck.

“H-Hey…” A weak voices drips in from above, and when Jack focuses on the shadowed face above him he quickly figures out it’s Rhys, now with a little more color in his cheeks than before. Something fleshy and soft touches his cheek.

“Don’t…don’t try to move, okay? Think you…think you fucked up your arm…” Jack is in too much pain to correct Rhys’ language. He merely hisses through his teeth and nods.

“Haha, yeah, yeah, think I could’ve told you all that…” His toes curl in his shoes from the pain, and all he wants is to be off this frikkin’ planet and back in a nice comfortable bed, shot full of expensive painkillers.

Rhys’ face falls, something weird like guilt crossing over it at Jack’s pain, and wait, no, that won’t do at all. His PA moves to open his mouth but Jack quickly shushes him, his brows furrowing from annoyance rather than agony.

“D-Don’t you go giving me that look, sugar. Saving people is what heroes do.” He wishes he could waggle a finger at Rhys but he can hardly move, so what he hopes is a stern, but reassuring look on his face will have to do until then. “I wasn’t about to let you become a Rhys’ splatter against the god-damn Pandoran desert.”

And Rhys still looks a little upset, obviously—no one expects a straight-laced corporate softie to shrug off a near death experience—but his lips do quirk up a little in a humoring smile that helps more than anything make Jack grateful he’d dove headlong to keep his PA safe.”

“In that case…” Rhys runs his fingers carefully back through his messy hair, before pressing a kiss to Jack’s cheek. “Thanks, Handsome.”

And finally “Family/Pack” for the last day of the ABO Week! Just something small, set in the same modern AU of this fic and featuring my two Rhack sons. Enjoy!

Rhys comes back late to an oddly quiet house. As he locks the front door behind him, he checks the time on his phone, wondering if maybe he’d stayed out longer than he’d planned to—but the clock reads only seven forty-five, way before either Jack or his boys went to bed. Whenever Rhys tasked his alpha to babysit, Jack would always push things and let their sons stay up as late as possible—until Rhys came home to set things back in order—so it feels odd to hear his house so quiet at such an early hour.

He’s been out all day—first to a spa, then shopping, then dinner and drinks with his friends in a much-needed day of fun and relaxation.

Normally if Rhys needed a break, he would just stay home and end up pampered by his mate, but he’d honestly missed his friends—and with Vaughn and a begrudging Yvette footing the bill, it’d ended up a no brainer. Yet, as much as he’d enjoyed his time today, coming back home to his family never feels like a chore.

But where are they?

Rhys peers into the kitchen, finding evidence of homemade pizza but no family. The living room is similar empty, as are the boys bedrooms. Rhys frowns as he walks down the hallway, wondering if they’d either gone out or were hiding somewhere in order to jump out and scare him, when he notices that the door to his nest-room is slightly ajar.

Rhys chuckles gently to himself as he opens it and squints against the dim light of the room. Sure enough, he can see sleeping faces poking out of the lumps of pillows and blankets covering the area of the nest. He carefully toes his shoes off, nudging them against the wall before he crawls into the nest him, letting the door fall quietly shut behind.

He finds out when he moves over to Jack’s side that the alpha is awake, as he reaches out to lightly pinch at Rhys’ hip. The omega gasps, keeping his voice low as he casts an admonishing look at Jack.

“Don’t—you’re gonna wake them.” Jack smiles softly in the dark, leaning up to peck Rhys’ lips before settling back into the warm folds of the bed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Finally got them full of pizza and asleep. I’m a frikkin’ superhero.”

“Yes, I saw the mess you three left in the kitchen…I’m not cleaning that up, you know. Not how I’m gonna end my day of relaxation.”

“Aw, no worries sugar, I’ll get everything nice and cleaned up for you,” Jack soothes as he rubbed a hand through Rhys’ hair. The omega preens, pleased by his mate’s added attention as he lies down next to him, their sleeping children cradled between. Rhys isn’t going to fall asleep yet, not while he still wants to tell Jack all about his day and how they definitely need to go to tonight’s restaurant again for their next date, but he is going to relax and enjoy the comforting scents of his family as he cuddles in the most comfortable spot in the whole house.

Catching up on my omegaverse week! This is for Day 6, “outdated traditions,” and is a fic idea I’ve been wanting to write for ages. I had an idea about there being “omega” and “alpha” cakes that were exchanged in the past, and I thought it’d be cute to explore with these guys.

Rhys has never been to this little pastry shop before.

His favorite one lies on the other end of the hub, with an adjoined cafe that sells the vanilla bean lattes he likes to grab whenever he has time before work. Jack likes their black coffee well enough, so it gives him an excuse to go and grab a strawberry danish to tide him over until lunchtime.

But this shop looks little like his usual spot. For one, they don’t seem to sell coffee at all, with the little menu behind the counter displaying only a couple varieties of tea sold by cup or in loose leaf form. Rhys doesn’t think he’s had anything like that since he was in college and desperately trying to stave off a sore throat with a little mint tea and honey.

But thankfully, he’s not here for coffee. No, Rhys is here at this little, quaintly decorated pastry shop way out on the outskirts of the Hub, to look for alpha cake.

See, Hyperion’s a modern company. Though most of the high-ranking executives and managers are alphas, beta and omegas are ostensibly welcomed and allowed to advance if they have the proper skills to back it up. Rhys has heard more horror stores from some of the other more traditional companies, making even a cutthroat place like Helios seem like a relative paradise. And now that he’s Handsome Jack’s live-in boyfriend life has eased considerably, with his statue rendering him effectively immune to any lingering traditional bias. Comes with the territory of dating the man who can jettison all his enemies into space with the press of a button.

But not all the old traditions are necessarily bad, even if they come from kind of stuffy backgrounds. Case in point—alpha cake.

He’d first heard of cake as a courtship ritual back when he was a teen, thanks to his mother. Generations ago it was commonplace to have a large party when an omega and alpha were intended to mate, one that joined both families together in celebration. The centerpiece of such an event was the exchange of special cakes between the two, meant to signify what each partner would provide for the other—as well as allow each family to show off their biggest, fanciest looking cakes.

Despite the fact that Rhys was by-far a non-traditional omega—first off, he was tall and pretty skinny, already a guy that’d be passed over for his lack of “child-bearing hips”—he’d always found the idea of the cake exchange kind of cute. It might’ve just been his sweet tooth talking but he’d always fantasized bringing his future-mate an alpha cake to confirm his feelings. And while that thought had always lingered in the back of his mind, only recently—as his relationship with Jack grew more serious—did he start genuinely considering following through with it.

Which is why he was here at this pastry shop gawking at the big cases full of cakes, looking a little bit lost.

There were a ton of varieties of both alpha and omega cake, ranging widely in terms of sizes and pricing. Usually when confronted with sweets Rhys could figure out what he was craving pretty quickly, but considering he’s supposed to give this to Jack he’s getting a little bit flustered. Traditional alpha cake—as he’d learned browsing through websites on his way here—is dense and kind of heavy, stuffed with nuts and dried fruit and occasionally ingredients like carrot shavings, banana, or chocolate chips.

All the cakes in the case look a lot fancier than the ones that Rhys had seen earlier. Most are topped with a delicate frosting and topped with clean, artful designs sprinkled with cinnamon.  Some even have the alpha symbol delicately drawn in chocolate designs or pretty, autumn-colored flowers poking out from the top. Rhys swallows, hands pressed up against the glass. What if he gets something Jack thinks is stupid? Or—oh no—what if Jack doesn’t even like alpha cake and this stupid gesture ends up all for nothing?

He knows Jack likes his coffee black and his burgers medium-rare, and has a soft spot for that little Truxican spot that always resists every major makeover of the Hub, but they’ve never talked about what kind of cake they each like before. What’s he even doing here? This is probably a huge mistake.

Rhys is just about to straighten up and go when a short, chubby looking beta—by the scent that wafts over the smell of batter and sugar—enters in from the back room and fixes him with a smile.

“Hey there hun! Can I help you find anything?”

Five minutes later and Rhys is standing outside the pastry shop with a little white bag in hand. Inside the bag sits an individual-sized alpha cake, with a message piped ontop at no extra charge.

“To the most handsome alpha this side of the galaxy.” His cheeks already burn looking at it. Why had he let the employee talk him into this? He should’ve just left it blank. Now it feels like he’s setting himself up for something.

His stomach flips a little with anxiety. He lets out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Oh well. Best to just get it over with.

When the security door to Jack’s penthouse opens, Rhys is immediately hit by the smell of sugar and baking.

He furrows his brows as he crosses over the threshold, noticing Jack’s shoes by the door and his jacket on the rack. He switches the cake bag from hand to hand as he shrugs off his vest and wiggles off his shoes, placing them besides Jack’s. He tiptoes towards the kitchen, steps quieted by his socks, curious.

Jack’s presence isn’t all that strange. Rhys has caught him cooking and baking before, sometimes even at odd hours of the night or early in the morning. He’s been surprised with breakfast several times since moving in, and occasionally on his day off he’ll go out into the dining room to find a basket of popovers sitting on the table alongside a dish of butter and jar of fancy jam. Jack’s cooking habit is something Rhys would have never expected from the CEO, but it’s one of those little positive things he’s discovered about his hero since actually dating him.

But right now as Rhys watches from the doorway he can see Jack putting the finishing touches on a huge cake artfully slathered in fresh cream and topped with strawberries. He looks so focused, tongue stuck out from between his lips, that Rhys almost feels bad interrupting, but the surprise at exactly what Jack’s making forces him to speak up.

“Is…is that omega cake?”

Jack jumps slightly at the nose, turning to Rhys just as he puts himself between his boyfriend and the cake. His eyes widen, a bluffing smile crawling over his face.

“What? No—I—what’s omega cake? Sounds like something super dumb and corny…”

“Jack…” Rhys sighs, shaking his head as he reaches into the bag. “You don’t have to…I mean…look.”

He pulls his own cake out, embarrassing message at all. Jack’s eyes fall to the container, lips parting slightly in surprise as he reads what it says, takes in what Rhys bought.

“…You’re kidding.”

“Oh my god,” Rhys snickers, relaxed and relieved. “I thought I was going to look so stupid with this but…I can’t believe…how did you get the same idea?”

“Kitten, you know I like to make nice things for you, you should’ve guessed—“Jack steps to the side, finally allowing Rhys to get a better look at the cake. His alpha has a real artistic side. Not everyone can carve strawberries into adorable little blossoms.

There’s even a little message in glossy red on top: “To the best omega in the entire universe.” It makes Rhys feel a little bit better about his own cheesy cake. It makes him feel a little something else too.

“Oh Jack…” Rhys sets his little cake aside to wrap his alpha up in a hug, peppering Jack’s face with affectionate little kisses. His worries from before are totally gone, melted away and leaving him with nothing but happiness. Jack chuckles softly to himself before returning his kisses, meeting Rhys in a particularly long one.

“Looks like we’re gonna be eating plenty of cake for the foreseeable future.” Jack rubs their noses together, his hands creeping around Rhys’ waist. The omega wiggles closer, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you better believe I’m more than okay with that, mister.”

Did the prompt for day 5 of the omegaverse challenge! “Protective instincts” with some semi-badass Rhys!

Rhys is very tired.

Being Jack’s PA can hardly be called a thankless job—the pay is better than anything he could’ve hoped for back when he was first interning, not even when he and Vaughn had high hopes not yet crushed by middle-of-the-pack drudgery—and honestly as much as common sense tells not to date one’s boss, Rhys feels it makes things easier. There’s no fear of airlock or random strangling or anything like that that hangs above the necks of everyone else who works at Helios. At this point, Rhys is a part of Jack—his right hand man, at this point crucial to his success and function as Hyperion’s apex alpha—and as cruel as Jack can be Rhys has a hopeful feeling he won’t harm someone he considers so intimately his.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t be an obtuse, self-centered asshole who fucks Rhys over on accident.  

Jack had “forgot” to tell Rhys they needed to put together a presentation for the surveyors they’d contracted to scour the woodlands of Meliae. Jack was working on a hunch, a rumor from settlers on the planet regarding the sap from the native trees. Apparently it’d provide excellent lube for Hyperion’s —and some other things, Jack had said with an eyebrow waggle—so all right, Rhys had spent all of last night doing research and slapping together a decently pretty presentation over a latte who’s foam had long collapsed in on himself. When he’d texted Jack thinly veiled annoyance, he’d only gotten a laugh and a barely comprehensible “inspiring” message that told him Jack was probably drinking.

Thankfully, the CEO had shown up to the late morning meeting with no sign of a hangover, unlike Rhys—who’d subsisted on a couple hours sleep and the dregs of his cold coffee and still managed to pull himself together under a crisp shirt and straight tie. Rhys didn’t know what he would’ve done if Jack hadn’t arrived.

“Wow, you look like crap.” Unfortunately Jack’s flippant remark and quick up-down of Rhys’ haggard state doesn’t exactly improve the omega’s mood.

“At least you’re being honest now….seriously, just say that, rather than the half-assed ‘motivation’ from last night.”

“Did I text you? Haha, whoops,” Jack brushes his hand over his head to emphasize. “Didn’t even remember. Last night got a little….fuzzy.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Rhys rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off a building headache. Someday Cybernetics would figure out how to install something to inject pain meds directly into the brain.

The meeting hasn’t begun yet, but the representatives from the survey company are already milling about the door of the room, taking coffee and pastries from the table set up. A series of oohs and ahhs spring up as soon as Jack shows up with Rhys tailing behind him. No one talks to him, and for once he’s thankful of his fairly invisible position as Jack’s assistant. They’ll all have to listen to him present in a couple minutes anyway.

Rhys has the whole thing downloaded into his brain and honestly just wishes he could plug himself into the podium and have the whole thing present itself, but research says audiences respond better to a live human voice—though from the looks of it, these representatives won’t need too much convincing. Rhys folds his arms, watching the other men and women take turns lavishing Jack with all kinds of platitudes. He wonders if the presentation is even necessary, but they’re all gathered with catered breakfast anyway, so they might as well follow through with it.

Rhys’ stomach is gurgling, upset with only cold coffee to sustain it. He fists his hand into his shirt, trying to quell his twitching middle.

He considers grabbing a croissant or something from the table set up for the meeting, when he notices another one of the other company’s entourage approach Jack. Rhys’ nostrils flare, picking up on the softer scent characteristic of an omega. This isn’t unusual—smaller companies often bring along a conciliatory omega or two whenever they meet with Jack, to soften the alpha’s mood and maybe even swing the decision in their favor. Rhys doesn’t fully understand it this time, however, considering Hyperion is soliciting them for their services—so maybe this is just an overeager fan like the others?

That raises his hackles.

Rhys pauses and puts the croissant back down on the serving platter, redirecting back towards his boyfriend just in time to hear a snippet of their conversation.

“—would be an absolute pleasure to work with you, sir, really hope we can reach an understanding here—“

Boy. Rhys does not like that flirty tone in the omega’s voice. He stalks right up to the pair of them, hoping to catch a disapproving or disinterested look on Jack’s face, but to his horror he finds that his alpha has an easy smile that doesn’t go away even when Rhys moves next to him, his own expression tight. Jack nods in recognition but says little more as the omega continues. Rhys’ fingers clutch tighter against the fabric covering his stomach.

He feels he can hold his frayed nerves and frazzled instincts together, but then the omega reaches out and touches Jack’s face.

Rhys likes to think of himself as a fairly well-put together omega. Even though he’s dating the top alpha on the station, he doesn’t give into baser instincts—at least outside of the bedroom.

But seeing this omega touch Jack—with such obvious intentions and right in front of him, when it’s well known that he and Rhys are dating, just makes him snap.

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his teeth are buried into the omega’s hand, so he has no means to stop himself.

Rhys’ fangs aren’t particularly large, but they are sharp, and though he doesn’t usually bite people, especially not during work-hours, he’s almost surprised at how easily he pierces the flesh of the omega’s hand. The tips of his fangs dig in deep, splashing blood inside of his mouth as screams ring in his ears.

Something hard bashes against the side of his head, knocking his brain around and making his eyesight flash in little popping lights, but instead of coaxing him into relaxing his jaws he only bites down harder. His jaw locks into place as his eyes squeezes shut, all anger and frustration crunched out into the offending omega’s hand even as blows and scratches rain on his head—at least until a familiar roar of anger stops them.

Rhys shakes his head, still keeping his teeth clamped on the bleeding hand until he feels warm, steady pressure on both of his shoulders. His eyes remain closed until a soothing, musky scent starts to filter in from around the smell of blood and enemy omega, followed by a steady voice speaking right besides his head.

“C’mon sugar. Easy. Let’s let go now.”

Only after a couple more moments of calming words does Rhys’ finally unlock his jaw and let his fangs slid out of the omega’s hand. It instantly falls out of his mouth but Rhys no longer cares about the man he’s bitten as soon as he opens his eyes and saw Jack’s face.

He looks surprised.

Cries of indignation erupt from behind him as Jack straightens Rhys up by the shoulders. The CEO exchanges a couple heated words that melts into goo in Rhys’ ears as he tries to calm down. An angry slam of the door moments later, thankfully leaves them in silence and isolation, apart from Hyperion security who are so ever-present they may as well not even be there.

Jack lets out a low whistle, tune unreadable. Rhys flinches, feeling his hackles rise as the reality of what he’d just done weighs into him proper.

“Rhys.” Jack tries to start, but the omega shakes his head.

“No, don’t lecture me,” Rhys gasps, his voice tight as if drawn over Jack’s thigh, frayed by his boyfriend’s inconsideration. “You lumped all this crap on me last minute, then you’re over here flirting and I—I just—“

He drops his head, feeling stupid. He’d let his emotions, his instincts get the better of him for one moment. But one moment is all it takes for an omega on Helios, before one gets branded as jealous and shrill and incompetent and—

“You’re mine, you’re mine, I don’t want anyone else to have you, I—“

“Hey, baby, shh, shh shhh shhhh.” Jack’s fingers touch against his cheeks, a little more firmly than Rhys expected. His cheeks squish up slightly at the pressure, making him feel even more self-conscious of his childish outburst. But in all honesty it’s hard to feel too badly when Handsome Jack is paying all his attention to you and looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

“Sorry…” Rhys mumbles, feeling the swollen tears in his eyes start to reach their breaking point. Jack’s thumbs swipe between his eyes though he’s not quite crying yet.

“Don’t, don’t sweetheart—“ Jack shuffles a little closer, their fronts brushing up against one another. “I should’ve—I didn’t think it was a big deal, but you were really obviously stressed and ready to snap, huh?”

Rhys chuckles dryly. His throat and nose feel filled with gunk.

“Was it that apparent?”

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you nearly take someone’s hand off. I mean, I didn’t know you in your youth—maybe theres a bunch of one-handed interns out there I don’t know about.”

“N-No, not many…or at least if there are, they’re not because of me…” Rhys sniffles, inhaling more of his alpha’s comforting aroma as Jack draws him closer. As much as he likes to downplay the whole animal side of his endotype, he can’t deny the calming effect that comes whenever Jack scented him.

“I’ve gotta be honest though.” Jack brushes his finger against Rhys’ lip, coming away with a smear of red on the tip. “Ripping into that other guy’s hand…that was pretty hot.”

“Means we’ll probably have to find another company to do the survey, though…”

“Eh, that’s cool. Honestly, I was thinking of just drumming up some volunteers and doing it in-house anyway.” Jack shrugs. “Some of these kids will do anything for a handshake and a lil’ bonus.”

“I-It’ll probably up costs to do that sort of training…” Rhys mumbles, only for Jack to lean in and press a kiss to his nose.

“Probably. But that’s all later talk, sugar. C’mon. Think my omega deserves a day-off of pampering for his little outburst.”

That sounds just about okay with Rhys.

Prompt for day 4 of the omegaverse challenge! I did “scents” with some Jack-related hurt/comfort!

Jack hated being injured.

He hadn’t even been that badly hurt, in any case. Which was a damn miracle considering he’d been standing a couple feet away from the scientists who had been mostly fried by the malfunctioning test grenade. He would’ve gotten away with only a couple of scratches and superficial burns—easily treated within the moment he was wheeled into the emergency room—if the test had been for anything else other than a frikkin’ flash grenade.

After a quick examination, his doctor had informed him and Rhys that the flash blindness would thankfully be temporary, provided Jack get plenty of rest and try not to push himself. Jack remembered grunting, already frustrated at the dim pall that’d replaced his usual sharp vision. He hated having one of his senses stripped from him through another’s stupid mistake, even if he had Rhys around to care for him until he recovered.

He’d been discharged a few hours earlier, and now lay in the comfort of his own bed, his head propped up on a pillow. He wavered on the edge of sleepiness, the effects of the Anshin still stinging slightly through the skin newly regrown over his wounds. He didn’t know why the hypo couldn’t heal his eyes as well, but despite his payer for a miracle nothing had changed in the past couple of hours. He fluttered his eyelids uselessly, frustrated at the disoriented lack of change. Despite the fact that he couldn’t even see anything, he found it difficult to simply relax and go to sleep.

Then the door to the bedroom eased open.

Jack smelled Rhys before he heard the soft pad of his feet against the carpet. He felt his nostrils flare, taking in his omega’s scent as it drifted closer. Despite his agitation, a smile picked at the corner of his lips. Rhys always smelled the best—and Jack had scented plenty of omegas in his time, from high-class escorts to heiresses to even mercenaries for higher, and none had ever smelled as wonderfully as Rhys had. Something special lingered in that smell, a comforting layer of crisp jasmine-spritzed linens that laid over him as Rhys sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress depressing under his weight.

“Hey,” Rhys started, voice soft and a little nervous, “How you feeling?”

“Good as I can be with my eyes outta commission…And better. Now that you’re here,” he amended, shifting a little more upright against his pillow. He felt Rhys’ hand gently lay on his shoulder.

“Don’t move too much, you flatterer…” He could heard the amused little smile in Rhys’ voice. Something clinked against a surface next to his ear, followed by the warm smell of melted cheese and butter.

“I didn’t know what to make that wouldn’t risk burning down the house so…I just did mac n’ cheese…” Jack heard something squelch, right before he felt something warm hovering before his lips. “I hope it’s not too bad…”

“If you kill me, kiddo, everyone’s gonna know who did it…” Jack chuckled softly, blowing on—presumably—the spoonful of mac n’ cheese before Rhys carefully slipped it between his lips. He chewed thoughtfully, expecting the food to taste less appealing considering he couldn’t see it but—and maybe because he hadn’t eaten all day thanks to the incident—it tasted pretty damn amazing.

“Oh, kitten,” Jack moaned as he swallowed the first warm mouthful down, “this is amazing?”

“R-Really?” Rhys’ voice tipped up in surprise, his scent practically blushing. “Is that just the pain meds talking?”

“Maybe. Can’t you just take a compliment, sugar?” Jack teased, before opening his mouth for another bite. “You put chives in this? And uh…is that bacon?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Rhys slipped another hefty spoonful between his lips. “I’m glad you can taste it, I was just kind of throwing in everything I’ve seen you put in…”

“Well…it’s great…” Jack smiled as he finished, the meal settling warmly into his stomach. “Comfort food from my favorite omega…makes this whole crappy situation lots better.”

“Well…you focus on getting better, okay?” Rhys murmured, his fingers stroking back Jack’s hair. “I mean, what’s the point of being Handsome Jack’s omega if he can’t see how cute I am?”

“Oh don’t worry sugar, I can smell the cute on you.” Jack relaxed into his boyfriend’s touch as Rhys’ hand slid down to cup his cheek. His smile grew more sedate, finally allowing the pull of much needed rest to take him down.

He’d help Rhys finish off that mac n’ cheese as soon as he woke back up.

For the omegaverse challenge Day 3! The prompt was “Nesting/Hibernating” but I took a bit of a different approach….well maybe not so different. It’s still just fluffy stuff, though! 🙂 

Also kind of a modern AU. 

Jack had planned the perfect date for him and Rhys—he’d staked out a beautiful little spot on the local park, bought the best cheese and meats he could, and wrapped it up in a pretty picnic basket alongside a fancy bottle of wine one of the board members had given him for his birthday. Hell, he’d even laid out his best slacks and blazer with the little Hyperion crest emblazoned on the breast pocket.

So, of course, it had to start pouring rain out of nowhere.

And though Jack had initial growled and balled his fists in anger at his thwarted perfect date, Rhys thankfully had a backup plan tucked away in their house.

The nesting room had been a Rhys idea from start to finish. Jack had put up the money for the remodel, of course, but beyond that the omega had been given full control. And honestly, though it wasn’t what Jack would’ve done with the space, he found it pretty cool and cozy.

Rhys had, in essence, filled the entire space wall-to-wall with the fluffiest, comfiest bed he could find in that size. Save for a small little alcove near the door, the whole room was filled with plush mattress and piles of pillows and blankets all soaked in happy pheromones and the calming scent of a couple subtle aromatherapy plug-ins.The walls had been painted a comforting creamy color, warmly matched by cedar frames depicting photos of the couple as well as some of Rhys’ favorite paintings. Jack always insisted one day, he’d get a fancy portrait done of them both, to hang up someplace everyone could see it.

But no one ever ventured into the little room apart from Rhys and Jack. The latter knew just how private omegas got when it came to their nesting habits. No one else’s scent could taint the little environment Rhys had built—it was a perfectly preserved room meant for only the two of them.

So now that their outdoor date had been rained out, it seemed the ideal place to go.

“Shoes off,” Rhys insisted as he opened the door to the nesting room, his sandals already slid off  and nudged neatly next to the wall. Jack huffed with a smile as he toed out of his loafers, balancing the picnic basket on his hip as he pushed them over next to Rhys’ shoes.

“Wouldn’t be fun if I got your little nest all muddy, huh sugar?” Rhys rolled his eyes, taking the basket from his alpha’s arm and crawling atop the huge bed already waiting for them at the foot of the door. Jack followed suit, unbuttoning the collar of his dress shirt as he knelt into the mass of fluffy blankets, making his way over to the middle of the bed, where Rhys had already settled and started to unwrap their picnic lunch.

“This is what I love about you,” Jack said as he moved next to his omega, settling down in the belly of warm bedding as Rhys spread a couple napkins out in his lap.

“What? That I’m hungry?” The omega commented as he rifled around in the basket, emerging with a chunk of baguette and a block of manchego cheese.

“Nah. Resourceful.” Jack grabbed the neck of the wine bottle protruding from the basket before scrounging around for the opener. Rhys rolled utensils out from one of the napkins, shrugging his shoulders as he started to cut into the bread.

“What, you went through all this so we could have a nice date. I didn’t want it to go to waste.” Out the window, Jack could see how dark the clouds had grown, and the droplets hammering on their roof told him the storm probably wouldn’t let up for some time.

Not that it mattered, considering he was warm inside with his omega.

“Appreciate it, pumpkin. Glad I still get to spoil you even though Mother Nature has different plans.” Jack grunted as he jammed the corkscrew into the top of the bottle, careful not to spill any on Rhys’ nest as he twisted it off. Cradling the bottle between his thighs he grabbed for the wine glasses inside the basket, deftly pouring an ample amount in both.

“She’s gonna have to do better than that to keep me from this spread…” Rhys mumbled, already chewing through the heel of the baguette as he sliced little bits of cheeses out onto one of the little tapa plates Jack had packed. He soon handed one over to Jack in exchange for a glass of wine, sipping delicately as he washed the bread down.

“Agreed. Want me to take care of the salami, sugar? Or is that your job?” Jack teased as he accepted the plate of cheese and bread with one hand, and waggling the aforementioned sausage with the other. Rhys rolled his eyes.

“I think you can handle it, big buy…better hurry, too, or I might get impatient…” Rhys feigned a bit towards the salami in Jack’s hands, a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“So frisky, even though we’re trapped inside…must be the nest having this affect on you,” Jack mused playfully as he stole the cutting knife from Rhys’ side of the nest, deftly slicing the salami into bite-sized pieces and passing some over to his voracious mate. Finally pleased, Rhys settled back into the mound of pillows behind him, one hand cradling the wine glass as the other stuffed cheese and meat and bread into his waiting mouth.

“Why don’t you pick something good…” Rhys nodded in the direction of the large television mounted on the wall across from them. They barely used it, even when Rhys nested in this room, and when he did he primarily played only ambient noises or calming music.

“By something good, you mean one of your cheesy omega movies?” Jack snickered as he fished around for the remote, eventually finding it under a yellow pillow that smelled strongly of the alpha’s own scent. “The last time we watch one I’m pretty sure I got a toothache.”

“Just pick one,” Rhys jabbed as he poked Jack with his foot. He took a long sip of his wine, eyeing his alpha over the rim of the glass as Jack switched on the television and scrolled through their recorded programs. A small smile spread across his lips when Jack finally settled on one he approved of.

“This stuff is so corny,” Jack droned over the opening credits, even as he moved the basket aside to properly snuggle with his mate. Rhys chuckled but said nothing, accepting his alpha’s intimacy and even letting Jack feed him little bits of cheese and bread as they enjoyed their impromptu date-in.

“Channeled Hearts”

“Oh ho. I see.” Jack rubbed his spiky chin, smirk growing wider, “You want to know exactly how I’m gonna help you with your magic, right?”

“I…” Rhys swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ideally…yes. “

“Well, first…I’m gonna need you to unwind a bit, frost bloom. Relax. Really let me in.” Jack’s clawed hand settled on Rhys’ hip, nail tips dragging against the fabric of his robes. “It’ll be a lot easier to do so if we start a little…physically…”

Rhys’ breath drew sharply into his lungs. Truly, he’d known what Jack had been after when he’d first made that covenant—he didn’t miss the connotation when Jack had suggested he give his body over to the older dragon in exchange for protection and magic—but to hear it spoken so plainly, just as Jack’s claw traced over to the front of his body to settle so close to his groin, had anxious warmth stirring in his belly.

“C-Can’t we just hug?” Rhys tried, breathlessly, unsure whether he truly wanted this or not. He’d used his own hand for pleasure, of course, but he’d never lied with anyone else before. Much less a massive, powerful wyrm such as Jack. But those large claws wrapped around him, that bulk pressing up against him from the rear—neither left much room for argument.

This is literally just 5k of dragon AU smut featuring knotting, size difference, and lots of cum. And some magical bonding weirdness c:

Rhys wasn’t sure if he truly felt afraid of Jack.

Nature told him he should—he knew the reputation of the black dragonflight and had come to fear even drakes and lesser dragonkin that descended from such wicked kind. He’d been told as a young kit of the slaughter Jack’s breed had laid upon the blue dragons centuries past, leaving wounds still unhealed.

As soon as Rhys saw the massive dragon in his lair, he should’ve turn tail and fled, even if it meant running back into the traps of the humans pursuing him.

But instead, ignoring all instinct and information passed down to him, Rhys had allowed Jack to take him in, had even made a pact with him. A pact that placed his own body on the line in exchange for a share of the black dragon’s strength. No matter the potential magic, many of his flight would surely call Rhys’ actions insane, even traitorous, if they were around to see what had become of him.

Unfortunately he had no option to take his decision back. For the time being he was bound to Jack, kept within the massive, rough-hewn stone walls of his lair.

Rhys spent most of his time in the little room Jack had declared his, curled up on a small bed with a couple of tomes he’d managed to sneak from the great dragon’s hoard. So huge was Jack’s wealth that it spilled out through the chambers and hallways of his lair, gold coins and jewelry and engraved armor scattered about the floor, ready to trip up Rhys’ clawed feet if he weren’t careful. The couple magical books he’d managed to sneak from the heaps were often in poor condition, some even sporting burn scars and claw marks that slashed through important directions and relevant informations about the spells inscribed in their pages. Rhys pieced together all that he could, collecting the tomes in his room and reading them over and writing in potential fixes in the margins, all the while wondering how exactly he and Jack would engage in the terms of their agreement.

He could certainly feel the ancient magic that ran through the stone walls of the lair, as well as the energy that shook off the black dragon’s scales like splattering raindrops, but without a proper conduit or channel he couldn’t take advantage of it.  

One day, Rhys’ curiosity got the better of him. He ventured out from his room, past the usual areas where he would scrounge for spell books and other magic trinkets, traveling further into parts of the lair he’d yet to visit. He stayed quiet, feet padding softly against the rough stone, his tail held aloft behind him. He kept his eyes peeled for Jack as he peeked into the new rooms lining the hallway, making a mental note to revisit those he found most interesting. Many were empty, or filled with unremarkable treasure, and Rhys felt about ready to retreated back to his room when he found one sealed by what looked like a huge, golden lock. Intrigued, Rhys lifted his hands, the tips of his claws glowing with magic as he sought to unseal the door and take a glimpse at what lay inside. Unfortunately, just as he felt the lock’s mechanism begin to give, something huge and scaly suddenly pressed upon him from behind and seized him by the shoulders.

“Interesting.”

Rhys yelped in surprise, the magic at his fingertips shriveling at Jack’s sudden appearance. He glanced wildly over his shoulders, expecting to see the dragon’s eyes blazing with rage, mouth alight with fire and moment’s away from incinerating Rhys where he stood. But instead Jack’s face held nothing but amusement, as if Rhys was a naughty mouse sneaking cheese from the larder.

“You’ve been holed up in your room so much, frost bloom. Here I was, thinking you were afraid of me,” Jack whispered, voice still loud enough to rumble through the cloistered air of the hall, “but you’re really just a curious little kit, aren’t you?”

“I…I…uh…” Rhys murmured, only for Jack to cut him off.

“You don’t need to be looking in there, Rhysie. Trust me, there’s a far easier way for you to gain the power you crave.”

“I—I know, but—“ Despite the situation, Rhys set his lower lip in an annoyed pout. “You haven’t exactly taught me any way to do that, so I’ve just been….helping myself.”

“Oh ho. I see.” Jack rubbed his spiky chin, smirk growing wider, “I guess I did promise you in our deal…but you want to know exactly how I’m gonna help you with your magic already, right?”

“I…” Rhys swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ideally…yes. “

“Well, first…I’m gonna need you to unwind a bit. Relax. Really let me in.” Jack’s clawed hand settled on Rhys’ hip, nail tips dragging against the fabric of his robes. “It’ll be a lot easier to do so if we start a little…physically…”

Rhys’ breath drew sharply into his lungs. Truly, he’d known what Jack had been after when he’d first made that covenant—he didn’t miss the connotation when Jack had suggested he give his body over to the older dragon in exchange for protection and magic—but to hear it spoken so plainly, just as Jack’s claw traced over to the front of his body to settle so close to his groin, had anxious warmth stirring in his belly.

“C-Can’t we just hug?” Rhys tried, breathlessly, unsure whether he truly wanted this or not. He’d used his own hand for pleasure, of course, but he’d never lied with anyone else before. Much less a massive, powerful wyrm such as Jack. But those large claws wrapped around him as the dragon’s bulk pressed up against him from the rear—and neither left much room for argument.

“Oh snow drop, you’re not gonna get nearly the power you need from a simple hug.” Jack’s other hand settled over Rhys’ chest, groping the supple pec beneath his palm.  “Did no one ever teach you the value of intimacy? If you want to be as strong as I am, you’re going to need to set your magic ablaze.”

Rhys jolted, spine prickling at the sudden wet pressure at the back of his neck. Jack licked him, briefly, before his nose settled amidst the hair on the back of his head, breathing the blue dragon’s scent deeply.

“S…So…” Rhys started, trying to keep his wits about him even as Jack mishandled him. One of the dragon’s claws dipped down between Rhys’ thighs, stroking where they pressed together. “This will….make me stronger?”

“Sure, sweetheart. It’s ancient magic. I promise you it’ll work. You’ll be a little spitfire soon enough.” He nuzzled around to the side of Rhys’ throat, tongue flickering out once more to taste the mage’s flesh. “What do you say?”

Rhys took as deep a breath as he could manage with Jack’s palm pressed against his chest, knowing he couldn’t flee the lair, nor the black dragon’s desires, even if he wanted to. And more than escape, he wanted power.

“Okay.”

Rhys gasped as his feet suddenly left the ground, winded from the sudden change in position. The clatter of the black dragon’s foot claws echoed around the dimly lit hallway as Jack spirited Rhys away from his room. The iron torches flickered in the wind of Jack’s wake as he swept through the twisting path of the lair until it ended in a tall door hammered with heavy metal bars that fizzled and fell away with the barest nod of Jack’s horned head.

Rhys struggled to squirm around in the black dragon’s arms, to get a bearing on his surroundings, when he was suddenly dumped onto something surprisingly soft—if a bit lumpy—beneath him. He scrambled about, tail and claws flailing until he finally gathered where he was.

Sitting in the middle of what he instantly assumed to be Jack’s bed.

It was far larger than his own. It lay in an expansive stone chamber, surrounded by disorganized piles of treasure, much like the rest of Jack’s hoard. Dirtied coins and dusty trinkets twinkled in the dim lights of the torches bolted to the walls and suspended above the bed, but thankfully the sheets Jack laid him on felt cleaner than the rest of the room, though his clawed fingers caught on the occasional burn-hole or slash mark in the silky fabric. There was little time to dwell upon the decor of the room, however, because with a sudden creak of wood Jack kneeled onto the bed and crawled over to tower above Rhys. The younger dragon shivered, dwarfed even further in the large bed now with Jack over him. One clawed hand sunk into the mattress besides Rhys’ head as the other trailed a slow path up his neck, ending in a gentle flick that tilted the blue dragon’s chin up.

Orbs of green and indigo glowed above a smiling row of razor sharp teeth, and for a moment Rhys felt as helpless as a prey animal, quaking beneath the unshed might of a hunter about to strike.

But then Jack’s teeth fell behind ashen lips and he craned his neck, leaning down to claim Rhys’ mouth in a kiss.

Jack felt warm—almost too warm, edging on hot, like Rhys had just bitten into a pastry that had yet to cool. He’d always sensed that heat, that energy within Jack’s body, but before know they’d never been this close. Jack tasted almost as he smelled, of burnt meat and singed aromatic wood, and though usually the scent of death and wasted land would have Rhys panicking, instead a little thrill rose up in his stomach as Jack pushed his lips apart.

Rhys knew little about kissing—generally thought himself above romantic entanglements, after all, he’d always been far too busy practicing his magic to consider mating partners—so he had no option but to follow Jack’s lead, his tongue meekly tangling with the older dragon’s as he invaded Rhys’ mouth.

Jack burned through the remaining oxygen in Rhys’ throat like a flame as he kissed him, hunger fast-growing unrelenting. The mage’s chest tightened, lungs twitching at the lack of air. Finally Jack pulled away and allowed Rhys to wheeze sorely needed breath as he chuckled, amused by the bright red cheeks and trembling lips of the younger dragon beneath him.

“You’re so sweet…it’s fun to see you shake and gasp like this. Like a pretty little landed fish.” Jack’s clawed hand grasped the mage’s chin and tilted it from side to side as Rhys gulped and groaned his way back to a normal heart rate. Not that he could tame the aroused throbbing within his body, driven by fear yet also undeniable attraction not hampered by Jack’s rough treatment.

“I…I’m not an animal…” Rhys whined, though he made no move to resist as Jack started undressing him, unwrapping the filmy blue robes from about his body, letting them fan to the side like water spreading out across the bed. Rhys flinched instinctively as Jack bared his naked body, but the older dragon kept him pinned to the bed, unable to move much as the dragon nuzzled down from his tattooed chest all the way to his trembling belly.

Even when Jack’s claws left Rhys’ wrists the mage left them where they were, paralyzed by lust as the predatory dragon drunk in his nude form.

Rhys watched helplessly, looking down his own body as Jack crouched between his legs, heavy jaw opening to reveal the thick, fiery tongue that’d been invading his mouth moments earlier. Claws gripped the inside of Rhys’ thighs and forced them wider around the dragon’s head as he lowered his mouth right where his legs met his pelvis and pressed the flat of his tongue against the little, smoothly-scaled slit tucked there.

Rhys tossed his head back, spine arching upwards as the older dragon’s unfathomable warmth pressed inside this most intimate area, the large tip of his tongue pressing easily between the little folds. The foreign feeling of pressure had fear starting to throb in Rhys’ chest just as arousal wended in his stomach, the mix of the two confusing the hapless mage as Jack shrugged his legs atop his craggy shoulders and probed deeper.

Jack’s jaw stretched wide enough that the fangs on his lower jaw nearly scraped where Rhys’ ass met the bed, looking more like he was about to eat the younger dragon from the bottom up than pleasure him with his tongue. Hot breath skimmed against Rhys’ sensitive nether regions as his tongue squirmed deep inside him, managing to uncover all the hidden nooks and tender spots in the mage’s body.

Rhys cried out as he felt something that wasn’t Jack’s tongue suddenly shifted inside of him. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar feeling, but Rhys had only experienced it in those rare moments he’d used his own hand to pleasure himself.

“O-Oh, no, you’re gonna—Jack at this rate you’re gonna—ah—“ Rhys moaned as he felt his thin, slick little cock start to slide out of the slit in his groin and into Jack’s waiting mouth. The older dragon only chuckled, slipping his thick tongue out from within Rhys’ body to lavish attention on this new appendage.

“There we are, I had a feeling you had a little something extra hidden in there…” Jack purred, his claws stroking along Rhys’ thigh as the tip of his tongue flicked against the mage’s cock. Rhys shivered as Jack teased the little bluish nubs clustered around the head with the tip of his tongue, his claws digging into the bedsheets as lust rushed up from his groin and spread throughout his lithe body. Jack was just so—so hot, and he behaved like he already knew all of Rhys’ pleasure points, even those hidden from a cursory glance.

“H…how did you know?” He whimpered as Jack lapped at his cock, idly, as if licking an ice pop. The great dragon lifted his head with a smirk.

“I have been with other little drakes like you, you know. Your secret little cock is less of an oddity than you might think.” The pads of Jack’s fingers rubbed in a circle about the base of Rhys’ dick, right where the shaft protruded from his slick slit. “Doesn’t make it any less cute, though, and I like yours far better than the others I’ve seen.”

Hot breath blasted from between Jack’s fangs in a luxuriant sigh. Rhys trembled, sensation traveling up his spine as his cock twitched, spurting a little pre-cum out from the tip.

“Mmm. Adorable.” The bigger dragon chuckled, before leaning back in to resume his treatment of Rhys’ nether regions.

Jack’s tongue was so long it could wrap itself around Rhys’ shaft and still have enough length left over to penetrate back in the mage’s slit. And while it couldn’t get as far as it had before, the sensation had Rhys’ reeling as both his cock and slit were pleasured at the same time by the same fiery mouth. He kept one hand clenched into the bedsheets—the fabric already torn beneath his claws—as the other clamped over his mouth, his tiny fangs digging into the side of his palm as he struggled to ground himself against the pleasure. A small amount of restraint still grasped onto him, leaving him unwilling to give everything over to Jack just yet.

Jack’s tongue pulled out just as the feelings inside Rhys just about felt unbearable, and yet when that slick pressure left the mage’s insides he let out a reedy whine of upset. He tilted his chin down towards his chest and weakly propped himself up on one elbow, trying to see why exactly Jack had stopped so suddenly. His eyes widened, however, when he saw the older dragon stoking something large and thick and flaming orange from the depths of his bared crotch.

Considering Jack’s considerable size, perhaps Rhys should have expected his cock to be the same, but the thing rising hard and dripping between Rhys’ legs still looked monstrous. Easily as thick around as some of the bottles he used to keep his potions, and nearly as long as Rhys’ own forearm. It pulsed like a flame, like those flickers burning in the cracks of Jack’s plates and horns, radiating a shimmer of red and yellow from base to tip.

“A…are you kidding?” Rhys tucked his other elbow underneath himself, staring down his body at Jack in disbelief. “You think that’s going to fit inside me?”

“I don’t think, snow drop, I know it is.”

“Y—You’re more insane than I thought—“ Rhys voice pitched up, tinging on hysterical. “Do you see that thing? It’s—it’s huge—it’s bigger than my head!”

“Our bodies were built for mating, you know. Even across flights.” Jack snorted and tossed his head. “Quit acting like it’s gonna kill you.”

“How do I know it won’t?” Rhys wriggled towards the headboard, moaning when Jack caught him around the ankles.

“Sugarflake, if I was gonna kill you, I would’ve incinerated you the moment you set claw into my lair.” Jack dragged him back, shaking his head like Rhys was more a disobedient dog than intelligent dragon. “This is the best way to strengthen your magic, and need I remind you it’s part of what you agreed to.”

Rhys frowned, letting Jack pull him back underneath him, though his little tail whipped and wound with worry. His eyes still tipped down to Jack’s cock, large and threatening, dripping molten-looking slick against the sheets below. Rhys swore he even heard it sizzle.

“I just…”

“I wouldn’t have used my tongue on you if I wanted to hurt you,” Jack insisted, something in those dangerous eyes glowing oddly earnest. Rhys fidgeted, still feeling wary of that huge dick but well, Jack was right wasn’t he? If he’d really wanted to ravish Rhys, he would have done so from the start, not take the time to open him up with his tongue and blow him.

“Okay…” He mumbled, taking a deep breath to steel himself. To his surprise, one of Jack’s clawed hands slid up to grasp at his own, giving his fingers a small, encouraging squeeze. The other braced against his hip, lifting his ass slightly off of the bed to get a better angle. His thighs slotted on either side of Rhys’ hips, keeping him in this position as he directed the head of his cock towards the mage’s slick hole.

Rhys swallowed, squeezing Jack’s hand back as the blunt tip brushed against the shaft of his cock on the way to his entrance. It stood quivering and pale blue, silhouetted by the thick, powerful shape of Jack’s radiating dick. His stomach still twisted with a mixture of worry and anticipation as Jack prepared to put that monster inside of him.

“Relax, frost bloom…” Jack crooned as the tip of his cock brushed up between the damp folds, causing Rhys to tense up. He rubbed his thumb against the mage’s hand, leaning down to give him another distracting kiss as he started to inch his way inside. Rhys moaned into Jack’s mouth at the sudden stretch as Jack’s cock slotted under the shaft of his own, gradually pushing its way into him. He shuddered, more slick dribbling out from his slit to ease the path of the massive cock as it sunk within him.

Oddly, it hurt less than he imagined. The stretch was undeniable as the massive head of Jack’s cock pushed into him, but it felt less a pain than an uncomfortable fullness. Rhys didn’t want to admit that Jack might be right, that his body was build to take the cock of an alpha, but nevertheless he was grateful it didn’t feel like he was being ripped in half.

At least not yet. Barely a fourth of Jack’s cock was inside of him now, and he already felt so stretched out, so full. He arched his back, a small moan skirting around his fangs as he arched his free arm over his head and grabbed at the pillow beneath him. Jack still had the mage’s other clutched possessively within his claw, squeezing him tightly as he pushed his cock in up to the halfway point.

“A…are you all right..?” Jack groaned, the weight of his heavy tail causing the bed to shift beneath the both of them. Rhys let out a small whine, trying for words even though he felt stretched to the limit around Jack’s thick, hot cock.

“Ye…Yeah…”

Jack’s fiery mouth bloomed into a confident smirk as he rested their foreheads together.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Le…lets save the final verdict for when it’s all in me…” Rhys trembled, his body growing even more warm than before now that Jack was half-buried inside of him. Energy radiated out from the cock stuck in him, making every inch of Rhys’ body—down to the threads of skin and muscle—hum with the invading heat. The ridges and bumps of Jack’s dick resonated within him, texture rubbing up against his stretched, sensitive innards as the big dragon’s cock pushed deeper and deeper. It felt so overwhelming that Rhys was having trouble grasping coherent thought, his mind blanked out by pleasure and need as Jack started to sink the rest of the way into him.

The skin around his slit stretched wide around the thickest part of Jack’s cock, iridescent scales dancing with the glow of the dragon’s shaft as it slid past them. Rhys felt his insides shift, pressing out and away from the blunt head as it pushed against tender skin of Rhys’ abdomen. The sight of something huge bulging out against his belly nearly had Rhys alarmed—especially when he noted the faint orange glow from within—but it felt so good and his body molded so willingly around the intrusion that he couldn’t resist it. There’s no way a creature other than a dragon, fitted with magical stamina, could endure such savage mating without death or serious injury, and the fact that Rhys could enjoy it had him swimming with pride even as unfathomable pleasure wiped nearly all conscious thought clean.

Not many could take all of such a mighty black dragon.

As Jack stilled inside of him, moaning and swearing as he reveled in the tightness of Rhys’ body around him, the mage loosened his death-grip on the pillow above him and slid his hands down his front until they settled against the lump in his belly. Jack hissed in response as Rhys’ pressed his fingers against the head bulging out from his middle, feeling the shape of his cock with only a soft layer of flesh and muscle in the way.

“W-Wow…nngh…s-so big…” A little strand of bluish drool slid from the corner of Rhys’ lips, his tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. He was sure he looked nothing like the composed sorcerer he so wanted to be, but with Jack’s huge cock rocking inside of him, so large it was visible from the outside, he couldn’t control himself. Every inch of him trembled warm and unstable around the older dragon almost dancing on the edge of unbearable.

And then Jack moved.

It started gradual, as the dragon’s hips pulled back and drew his cock out with him, but even with Jack’s careful pace Rhys cried out, feeling as if his entire insides were being sucked away along with the huge shaft. The ridges against the dragon’s cock that hadn’t impeded its initial drive into Rhys’ body now caught along all those sensitive spots. Rhys’ hand flew back to the bedsheets and clawed them into shreds, clinging as best as he could as Jack pulled almost all the way out of him, teasing the hapless mage with just the fat head inside, before slamming back inside.

Rhys screeched as his body bounced against the bed with the force of Jack’s thrust, the sensation nearly inching back into pain as the older dragon started to set a powerful pace. The ornate headboard clattered against the wall behind it, cracking into the ancient stone as Jack pounded in and out of Rhys’ body. The blue dragon’s foot claws curled instinctively, his thin tail lashing out to wind around Jack’s thigh in an attempt to ground himself further against the assault of pleasure. Tears pricked at the corners of Rhys’ eyes as the warmth in his body turned to pure heat, as if Jack was lighting him on fire from the inside out. It ate from within his core, bursting forth until Rhys felt it on his skin, as if Jack had drizzled hot wax from his chest all the way out to his arms and stomach.

Through the clouds of his tears Rhys could see something shining a filmy blue, like harsh moonlight, and with a weak lift of his head he could see the tattoos on his body had changed shape, glowing with an unnatural light. Before his eyes it started to rise off him like glowing vapor, almost as if his tattoos were evaporating with the heat coursing through his body. What would happen when Jack finished with him? When he finally got off? Would his tattoos dissolve completely off his body, leaving him woefully blank and bared beneath Jack’s greedy eyes?

All these thoughts whirled about his mind but then another, rougher thrust had him reeling, his head throwing back against the pillow as he keened.

It wasn’t long before Rhys came, his little cock unable to hold out much longer as it stiffened and spurt back against the dragon’s belly, painting the bulging flesh with a silvery splatter. Rhys writhed through his orgasm, holding tighter on all parts of Jack’s body that he could reach as the dragon’s cock continued to rock in and out of him. Rhys’ flesh kept tingling with that spreading heat, his tattoos still glowing with energy up until the point where Jack finally slowed his thrust. Just when Rhys thought the great dragon might finally be finished, the base of his cock started to expand outwards, finally stretching his slit into the firm territory of pain as it shoved all the way inside and sealed them together.

Rhys’ already blank mind couldn’t take much more, and as the heat of Jack’s cum flooded his insides and distended his belly further outwards he felt himself go limp and numb, overstimulation severing his consciousness for a long moment. Distantly he felt aware of what was happening to him, but it was as if his soul had been half pushed out of his body—no room left inside thanks to the pressure of Jack’s cock and cum and overwhelming heat.

Bit by bit, however, he came back into himself, summoned by the feeling of lips against his own, like some princess in a human tale. He moaned softly, gathering his thoughts back to himself as he cracked open his eyes to see Jack’s face hovering above his. He caught the concern on the dragon’s face a split moment before Jack realized that Rhys was awake, and easily replaced it with a more self-satisfied expression.

“Oh good…as much as it might be flattering for me to know I killed someone through pleasure, I’d rather have you alive,” the dragon rumbled, claw dragging affectionately through Rhys’ tousled hair. The blue dragon grunted, still feeling exhausted and warm and terribly full, though Jack’s careful embrace made it a little more bearable.

“That…that was…wow…” Rhys couldn’t muster anything more intelligent at the moment. His gaze drifted from Jack’s face down to his own body, fussing slightly at how much his stomach bulged out with Jack’s cock and cum still inside of him, but oddly that wasn’t the most striking change.

His tattoos were different.

Perhaps not radically, but the formerly geometric designs looked a little wilder, their ink less uniform and splotched darker and lighter in some places. He could still see a lingering glow on their edges too.

“You…this…” He lifted his hand to trace one of the designs on his chest, feeling the residual heat leftover from their sex. The skin hummed beneath his fingers, a new energy running in his veins.

“What did I tell you, sugar?” Jack’s claws joined alongside Rhys’, trailing the tattoos. The little dragon gasped softly as the ink lit up brighter, as if Jack’s touch had kindled it. “This is the best way I can share my power with you.”

Rhys hadn’t really believed it at first, thinking Jack only wanted to get him in bed, but the dragon had been right all along. Though he’d just been fucked raw and ragged, now that he was breathing properly and relaxing, he did feel sharper and stronger than before. That power he usually only felt when he conjured up a spell now thrummed within him, like silvery fish flitting beneath the quiet calm of a lake.

“I would recommend resting before you try it out, though. Might take awhile for you to get the hang of it. And uh, well…” Jack glanced down between them. “Thanks to me, you’re gonna be here awhile anyway.”

Rhys shifted around the knotted cock inside of him, gasping softly as the tip moved deep within his cum-filled belly. He moved his hand to rest above his stomach, rubbing the tender area softly. He could still feel the warmth of Jack’s dick with him, less hot than it had been and now more comforting. Like a warm bowl of soup. Maybe two or three.

“Mm…I’m okay with that…” Rhys sighed, his tail sliding affectionately over Jack’s hip as he cuddled close to the large dragon. Jack didn’t pull away or say anything to rebuke him, merely chuckling deep in his chest as he shifted his arms tighter about the slight mage’s form. Neither of them ended up falling asleep, merely enjoying the company the embrace—as well as the newfound bond of magic channeling between them—provided as they lied upon the nearly destroyed bedsheets.