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Being a Kept Omega anywhere other than Hyperion is a mixed bag, as far as the stories go.

The other major corporations just don’t seem to care as much – the Kept Omega Agency branch at Maliwan, for example, was notorious for signing off contracts to the highest bidder, regardless of whether the match was good or not.

Background checks? Maliwan would (probably) ask. What the hell are those?

Though Dahl’s probably the worst, as far as KOA branches go. There wasn’t an Omega in the universe who hadn’t heard some variation of a Dahl-KOA horror story. Omegas in their care either wound up dead, missing, or returned to the agency in such a state that they’d probably wish for the first two options.

At least Hyperion gave a shit. Or pretended do, which was already a hell of a lot better than some of its peers. Admittedly, under Tassiter, things weren’t much better than Maliwan, but ever since Handsome Jack took over, the Hyperion KOA improved by leaps and bounds. Jack, for all his murderous tendencies, respected Omegas; or, at the very least, he knew he value in having a happy Omega factory provide comfort for his employees.

Happy Omega, happy life, as they say.

In fact, it was solely because of the Hyperion KOA’s reputation that Rhys sought to apply there in the first place. His only other option was Torgue, but, well, Hyperion was a lot closer to home.

And, if Rhys had to be a hundred percent honest, he was the kind of Omega who picked up books and movies based solely on how pretty the covers-slash-posters were. Only the ‘posters’ in this case were the CEOs of Hyperion and Torgue, and…

Look, Mr. Torgue seemed like a hoot, but Handsome Jack literally lives up to this name. Talk about the ideal Alpha. For Rhys, at least.

Anyway, Rhys’s decision to go to Hyperion based almost entirely on his hard-on for the CEO aside, he’d been surprised by how… nice their KOA actually was.

Upon his arrival to the Helios space station, Rhys was immediately shown to the Agency’s living quarters, where the other registered Omegas resided. He was given a rundown of their policies, which happened to include a form Rhys had to fill out detailing what sort of services he was alright with providing – and wasn’t that reassuring as hell?

He was also introduced to his handler – a Beta who worked with the Agency that would essentially protect the Omega in case things went south with a potential Keeper, but wouldn’t be tempted to try anything themselves, as Betas were far less susceptible to an Omega’s naturally alluring scent.

Rhys’s handler was a gorgeous, no-nonsense woman named Yvette. He wasn’t really sure about her at first, given that she’d managed to trick him into buying lunch for her when they first sat down to discuss his registration, but they warmed to each other over time. And hey, Yvette introduced him to her other Beta friend Vaughn, who was basically Rhys’s platonic soulmate, so that was a plus to her.

So really, he quite likes Hyperion so far. It’s everything he ever fantasized about and more. He just had to convince his sister that he was alright, and then he’d be golden.

“I just… I still don’t get it, Rhys.”

Rhys chews on his bottom lip, contemplative, as he looks at the holographic image of Fiona projecting from his palm. His older adoptive sister has the same worried-angry frown on her face that she’d had when Rhys first announced his intention to go to Hyperion, and that had been months ago.

“Fi, we’ve had this discussion so many times now,” he starts. “And I’m already, like, here, so it’s not like you can change my mind.”

“Well, you sucked at explaining it to me, so of course I’m still confused,” she snaps back. “You didn’t even know everything about the place before you got on that shuttle.”

“It all worked out. It’s really not that bad a place, Fiona.” Rhys sees his sister’s frown deepen, a skeptical eyebrow raising on her face, and he sighs. “Look. I’m fine. I get a nice apartment all to myself and even a week of heat leave! Seriously, though, they had me sign so many safety forms and disclosures that I would need to be locked in a titanium cage to be any safer.”

“We could’ve arranged that. August knows a guy.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fi.”

There’s a beat of silence, save for the tinny crackle of white noise, due to the poor reception. Then, he sees her sigh, shoulders deflating.

“… What kind of disclosure forms are we talking here, Rhys?”

“The usual. What sort of engagements you prefer – full-time, renting, etc. What responsibilities you can handle, like cooking or cleaning. What sexual preferences you h-!”

OKAY,” she shouts, startling Rhys. She looks nauseous, he notes, amused. “Waaaay too much info, baby brother.”

Rhys smirks. “You asked.”

“Shut up, oh my god.” Fiona scowls, reaching up to brush a strand of hair back from her face. “… so then what? You just wait for some knothead to request you?”


“… Rhys, not to sound mean, but that sounds like glorified prostitution.”

“… I mean, I guess?” He pauses thoughtfully. “At least they vet all the clients beforehand. And I have a choice in whether or not I actually want the engagement. Can’t say I’d get the same treatment with whoever the fuck Felix was going to sell me off to.”

As soon as he says the name, he regrets it. Fiona visibly winces, her eyes darting somewhere beyond him, where Rhys can’t see. He feels his mouth twist into a grimace, though his gut is starting to simmer angrily at the reminder of why he needed to leave home in the first place.

“Rhys…” Fiona’s tone is soft. “I… I know he said some things, suggestions, but…”

“But nothing,” he cuts her off, unwilling to listen to this speech again. “He was going to sell me, Fiona. I’m an Omega; it’s all I’m good for, remember?”

The words taste acrid in his mouth. Fiona flinches.

“…And no one’s gonna hire an Omega as a programmer, so…” he laughs hollowly. “At least this way, I can have some damn agency.”

“… Yeah,” she breaths out, like it’s draining her to admit it. She keeps looking past Rhys. “I know.”

He realizes what – or rather, who – she’s looking at.

“How’s Sasha?” he asks quietly. Judging by the hour, she’s probably asleep.

“… She misses you,” Fiona replies. “We both do.”

Rhys’s lips twitch, threatening to curve up into a smile, all awful thoughts about his adoptive father starting to dissipate in the face of his sisters’ obvious care for him.

So of course, Fiona ruins it.

“I mean, our beanpole of a brother, who only became a decent shot when he got a literal computer shoved in his eye, surrounded by homicidal corporate jackasses and horny Alphas? You’re not gonna last a week, baby bro.”

Pouting, Rhys gives her the middle finger with his flesh hand. “Gee, thanks. Really feeling the love here, Fi.”

She laughs – it’s shorter and more clipped than he’s used to, but he’ll take it. “Love you too.”

They end the call after a few more minutes of idle chatter, and Rhys promises to call again in a few days, when both she and Sasha are awake and available.

He goes to sleep in his new bed, in his new apartment, that he has all to himself, and imagines for a moment that he is back on Pandora, on the caravan, getting lulled to sleep by Sasha’s snoring and Fiona’s voice murmuring a lullaby.

It takes him a little longer than usual to fall asleep, but it does the trick eventually.



Rhys has been on Helios for almost a year (take that, Fiona) when it all finally goes to shit.

See, he’d been having a good time of it, being a registered Omega. The manager of the Agency, Henderson, was a pretty nice Alpha, who treated Rhys and his fellow Omegas very kindly, almost like a doting father.

Some would argue he was too kindly, though – when it came down to it, Henderson would always side with his Omegas over the clients, no matter the grievance. Rhys liked that about him, but he could understand why it would piss some other Alphas off.

Still, he never had a problem with Henderson. His assistant (emphasis on the ‘ass’), on the other hand, is an entire bag of dicks.

For some reason he doesn’t know or care about, Hugo Vasquez absolutely hates Rhys. He seems to dislike most Omegas, to be honest, but there’s a special brand of disdain he reserves especially for the cybernetically-enhanced man.

But for nearly the entire year Rhys has been registered with the Agency, Vasquez wasn’t a problem he couldn’t handle. Sure, the guy tried to protest when he thought Henderson was showing Rhys ‘favoritism’ regarding his engagements, and he never failed to have a demeaning and often creepily sexual comment to hurl at the Omega whenever they crossed paths, but Rhys was a goddamn Pandoran; he’d dealt with worse than Assquez.

So aside from him, it’d been a great first year. Rhys has amassed a small but fairly loyal client base, with engagements greatly varying in range. Many of them, to his surprise, were non-sexual; he had a guy in Tourism who just wanted someone to have dinner with every week, and another girl from R&D who would just want to cuddle on the couch in her apartment and watch musicals.

There were sexual engagements, of course. Mainly two or three regular Alphas who would call in if they wanted him to spend the night, or week – it depended on what they were willing to pay. A few were even willing to spend his heat with him.

For the most part, Rhys felt pretty safe during these appointments, Hyperion definitely living up to its reputation of not tolerating Omega harassment. Once, an Alpha tried to force his knot in Rhys during their first time – asshole move, by the way – and all Rhys had to do was activate the panic button protocol from his ECHOeye, and Yvette had kicked down the asshat’s door, punched him in the throat, and pulled Rhys away with little more fuss.

And Henderson blacklisted that Alpha from ever using the Agency again, so that was cool, too.

Rhys receives his fair share of Keeping requests – the most important request you could ever get with the KOA. It’s honestly flattering, seeing how many people want to Keep him, but as was customary, they held negotiations before anything was agreed upon, and most of them were… lacking. So Rhys always said no thank you.

Ah, that’s another bone Vasquez liked to pick on where Rhys was concerned; he liked to accuse Rhys of wasting the Agency’s time and money, mooching off them so he could keep being a puffed-up escort (or whatever it was he said, Rhys wasn’t paying attention). True, the KOA made most of its biggest paychecks for Keeping arrangements, but Rhys knew for a fact that his regular engagements made the Agency more money than Vasquez ever had, and Rhys had only been here a year to Vasquez’s five.

Besides, Henderson never complained about it. Rhys could be as picky as he goddamn pleased. Because… Well. Keeping an Omega isn’t like courting – you cut all that middleman shit out, jumping straight into the relationship; no muss, no fuss. And there’s no expectation of bonding or impregnating. Both of those things were expressly forbidden, and doing either would result in a personal visit from Handsome Jack (yes, really) followed by an exclusive trip out of the nearest airlock.

Anyway, Keeping is a temporary thing. At least until the Alpha finds a mate they actually want to bond and/or impregnate. And when that time comes, the contract is terminated, the Omega receives a handsome pay bonus, and the cycle can either start over, or the Omega can retire to Eden-5 and live a comfortable life on their own.

In very, very rare cases, the Alpha can make a formal bonding request – though both parties have to agree to it, in which case, the contract is nullified, and anything that happens to the Omega beyond that point is not to be held liable to the Agency anymore. It had happened a grand total of twice in Hyperion’s history, though both incidents were way before Rhys arrived, so details on them were sketchy at best. One pair apparently had a very happy life together, while the other… not so much.

The point being, Rhys wasn’t about to shack up with someone unless he was absolutely sure the arrangement would be comfortable. That meant no hard lines would be crossed, no miscommunication, and no possibility of attachment that would probably bite Rhys in the ass later.

No one as of yet meets Rhys’s criteria; it’s as simple as that.

Unfortunately, things start going to the aforementioned shit when Rhys is called up to Henderson’s office one day, only to find Hugo fucking Vasquez sitting in the older Alpha’s chair, grinning like a smug asshole. Rhys is immediately on edge.

“Rhys! So glad you could find time out your busy schedule to see me.”

“Where’s Henderson?” Rhys blurts, not willing to play whatever game Vasquez is set on.

The Alpha sighs, like Rhys is being difficult, and shakes his head.

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Unfortunately, Mr. Henderson has opted for an early retirement.” A sharp, smarmy grin cross his face. “An unexpected early retirement.”

Rhys tenses. He’s been on Hyperion long enough to know what that means.

“… You killed Henderson?”

“What?” Vasquez affects a look of shock, but he’s a shit actor so Rhys doesn’t buy it for a second. “Rhys, how could you assume – okay, yes. Haah.” He leans back on Henderson’s old chair and eyes Rhys critically. “Anyway, with Henderson gone, I’m up to take over.”

Rhys clenches his fists at his sides. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“Oh, Rhys.” Vasquez actually tuts at him, the asshole. “I’m gonna start making some changes around here. Henderson was always too soft on you and your kind. He cost the Agency a lot of money, you know.”

“So?” the Omega grits out.

Vasquez, if possible, grows even smarmier. “So, starting today, you have a month to find yourself a Keeper. Or I’m assigning one to you.”

Rhys actually startles at that. “Wh- You can’t do that! That’s illegal!”

Actually, I can.”

He reaches under the desk and pulls out an ECHOpad, which has blocks of text on its screen. One particular passage is highlighted, and after Vasquez sends it his way, Rhys reads it on his ECHOeye with growing horror.

“It’s an old rule,” admits the Alpha, watching Rhys’s complexion go paler with glee, “but still a rule. And I quote: ‘Any Omega not Kept after a year of being registered will be assigned a Keeper by the current head of the Agency.’ Pretty succinct, I would say.”

“That’s…” Rhys is at a loss. “That’s ridiculous! Handsome Jack wouldn’t stand for this!”

“It’s from Tassiter’s days,” shrugs Vasquez. “And look, Handsome Jack only cares if you break the rules. This, Rhys? This is perfectly, one hundred percent legal.”

Rhys is absolutely shaking with anger – and fear, possibly, because the dark look Vasquez is giving him indicates that whoever he’s thinking of for Rhys will not be a good Alpha.

As if sensing Rhys’s fear, Vasquez smirks. “Remember Thaddeus, Rhys? Henderson had him blacklisted over a silly little misunderstanding a while back… Because of you, actually. He’s really been looking forward to seeing you again.”

Rhys swallows. “… I still have a month. Right? I just need to find someone else to Keep me.”

“Yeah, sure,” the Alpha waves an indifferent hand. “If you can find anybody.”

“I will.”

Vasquez only waves his hand again, this time in clear dismissal. Rhys immediately turns on his heel and storms out, swearing under his breath. His mind is a mess of emotions – anger at Vasquez, grief at Henderson’s demise, fear for his future.

He doesn’t stop walking until he gets back to his apartment and closes the door behind him. He lets out a shuddering breath, sliding down the door until his butt hits the ground. Then he puts his head between his knees, and screams.

Yvette stops by an hour later, accompanied by Vaughn – they’ve both heard the news, since Yvette received an e-mail from Vasquez about her charge’s newest ‘development’. They join Rhys in cursing the Alpha, drinking to Henderson, and brainstorming ways to help the Omega out of his predicament.

“I mean…” Vaughn squints at the ceiling, cheeks flushed with alcohol. “We could just kill him. ‘S what he did to Henderson.”

“Please,” scoffs Yvette. “That paranoid son of a bitch won’t give us the chance. Besides, he’ll probably expect it from us.”

“I could hire my sisters,” Rhys muses, nursing the bottle of tequila close to his chest. “They’d totally kill for me. Although Fiona would probably say ‘I told you so’ about Hyperion being shit.”

“Is that worth it, bro?” asks Vaughn.

Rhys hesitates long enough that they know the answer. Yvette sighs, dragging a hand down her face.

“Okay. Okay, the easiest thing we can do is get Rhys a Keeper. Shouldn’t be hard. He gets offers all the time.”

“Yeah, but…” Rhys frowns. “I’ve never liked any of them.”

“I’m sorry, Rhys, but you’re gonna have to like one. It’s either one of them, or Vasquez’s pick.”

They all shudder.

“Guys!” Vaughn suddenly shouts. “We could kill Vasquez’s pick.”

“Plan C, Vaughny, Plan C.”

“Oh. What’re Plans A and B again?”

“Plan A is get Rhys Kept. Plan B is kill Vasquez.”

“I have a Plan D,” Rhys grimaces, taking a swig from the bottle. “I could quit and move back to Pandora.”

“Your sister would still be smug,” points out Yvette.

“Yeah, but at least I’d be with her and Sasha. Maybe I could get a job at Mad Moxxi’s after all… I think I’m cute enough.”

“You’re totally cute enough, bro.”


Yvette rolls her eyes at the two men, who are now holding each other and sobbing, repeating ‘bro’ in increasingly pathetic tones. She turns to her ECHOpad instead and starts sifting through the requests for Rhys. He’d had at least three last she checked, so maybe they’d get lucky and…


Yvette frowns, tapping her finger harder on the screen. Rhys notices, and stops his bro tirade, which gets Vaughn to notice, too.

“’Vette? What’s wrong?” asks the shorter Beta.

“It’s…” Yvette shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I should go check my computer at home.”

“Check for what?”

“I thought I had some offers for Rhys on here… Maybe I deleted them.” She shrugs, trying to shake a growing uneasy feeling. “But my computer saves backups of every message I receive. I’ll check at home.”

Rhys frowns as she gets up, collecting her stuff. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“… I’ll tell you if they’re not.” She gives her two best friends her best smile. “Talk to you guys later. Rhys, don’t get too shitfaced. We’re gonna go into overtime to get you as Keep-able as possible.”

Vaughn snorts. “Rhys is plenty Keep-able! I’d totally Keep you if I was an Alpha, bro.”

“You’re a true bro, bro.”

Yvette doesn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes again. She simply smiles, and turns away, hoping that her uneasy feeling is just paranoia, and not something much worse.




(It’s worse.)




“He’s such a fucking tool,” shouts Rhys, making quite a dramatic picture as he sprawls over his couch, hands pressed against his eyes like he’s tempted to gouge them out. Beside him, Yvette is biting the nail of her thumb in contemplation.

He’s not wrong, she thinks. Vasquez is a complete fucking tool. The asshole Alpha figured they’d try and get Rhys Kept as soon as possible, so what does he do? Bribe, lie to, and manipulate anyone he could to stop that from happening.

E-mails sent to Yvette are mysteriously corrupted, so unreadable that she can’t even begin to guess who they’re from.

Anyone who comes to her in person about an offer almost immediately rescinds it after a few hours, when Vasquez doubtless got his claws into them.

And when they tried to confront him about it? He put on the worst fucking innocent act, claiming that it wasn’t his fault that Rhys was so undesirable.

“Honestly, I don’t know why Thad’s so insistent on Keeping you,” he’d sneered. “But hey, can’t get mad a guy willing to pay mad bucks for your skinny ass.”

Yvette’s honestly willing to start work on Plan B, if not for Rhys’s sake, then for every other Omega who’s doubtless going to suffer under this absolute asshat.

“We still have two weeks,” she says to Rhys, but the Omega whimpers pitifully.

“It’s hopeless. He’s blocked every attempt we’ve made so far. I don’t… I don’t know what else I can do, Yvette.”

Setting her jaw, Yvette starts to pace. “Well, you’re not giving up, that’s for damn sure. At the very least, we’re gonna make that slimy bastard work till the bitter end.”

Rhys lowers his hands, giving her half a smile. “Not too late for Plans B and C.”

She waves her hand. “Just give me tonight. I’ll think of something, Rhys.”

But when she goes home that evening, she comes up empty. There’s… really nothing they can do. Outside of killing Vasquez (and Vaughn has already not-so-surreptitiously dropped a few names of people she has no doubt are assassins, Jesus Christ Vaughn), the most appealing option at this point is for Rhys to pack up and leave for Pandora. And Pandora is not known for being the most hospitable place for Omegas, which speaks volumes to how desperate they’re becoming.

A sudden ring on her ECHOpad startles her out of her depressed reverie, scrambling to answer.

“Hello?!” she asks, winces internally at how frantic she sounds.

“Yvette?” It’s a familiar voice – and face – on the other side of the line. It’s Harvey, one of the other Beta handlers. Not someone who handles Keeping requests, she thinks dejectedly.

“Oh, hey, Harv. What’s up?”

“You didn’t hear? Everyone’s freaking out about it!”

“Hear what? Please tell me Vasquez died.”

It’s a long shot, but she’s still disappointed when Harvey shakes his head.

“Unfortunately no, but this is still huge!” He pauses, likely for dramatic effect, leaning into the screen. “Handsome Jack is putting in a request to Keep!”

Yvette gasps, stunned. “Wait, what? When? How do you know? Who is he requesting?”

“I only just found out a few hours ago, after you and Rhys left the office,” answers Harvey. “But the rumors say he’s not requesting anyone specific, just asking to look at some files. Everybody’s working themselves up into a frenzy, especially Vasquez. Apparently Handsome Jack himself called in with the request.”

“Wait,” Yvette holds up her free hand. “Vasquez is putting the files together?”

“Well, yeah. He is the manager, however much he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Damn,” she curses. No way Vasquez is going to put Rhys’s name in.

Henderson would’ve definitely put Rhys forward as an option; their old boss gave Rhys one of his old, limited edition Handsome Jack mugs for his birthday, knowing full well of the Omega’s infatuation with the Alpha CEO.

God, she thinks. Rhys is going to freak out when he hears about this. He’s as big a Handsome Jack fan as any other Omega on the station, maybe even more. He’d die for the opportunity for the CEO to even look at a picture of Rhys, never mind be his Kept Omega!

But because Vasquez was hellbent on making her charge miserable, he wasn’t even going to get that.

… Unless.

Yvette chews her bottom lip. “… Okay. Thanks for the info, Harvey.”

She ends the call with the Beta, mind racing, and immediately calls up Vaughn next. Her friend answers, though it’s obvious by his groggy demeanor that he’s been roused from sleep. It is late, she muses.

“’Vette?” Vaughn mumbles. “What’s up?”

“How much money can you embezzle from your department without raising any alarms?”

“… What?”

“I have an idea to help Rhys,” she starts, pleased when Vaughn seems to immediately become more alert. “It’s a long shot, but it’ll, at the very least, make him happy should the worst come to pass… But we’ll need money to do it.”

Vaughn swallows, scratching at his neck. “… How much money?”

“Bribe money. So, a lot.”



Seven million dollars.

That’s as much as Vaughn can scrape away from accounting without making anyone suspicious. Fortunately for them, it’s more than enough to bribe Vasquez’s assistant into letting Yvette slide Rhys’s file among the ones meant for Handsome Jack.

Rhys, to their gratification, is over the moon when he hears what they did.

“You guys are my best friends in the world,” he’d said, whimpering a little as tears started to gather in his real eye. “God, Handsome Jack is gonna see a picture of me…”

Yvette nods, a pleased smile on her face. At least she could do this much for her charge. “I picked the best pictures of you, too. The headshot is the one where you’re wearing that black silk shirt with the top two buttons undone. He’ll get quite a tantalizing peek of your tattoos.”

Vaughn is humming, equally satisfied as his fellow Beta. “Bro, if Handsome Jack doesn’t want you after seeing that, then he’s either blind, or has no taste.”

Rhys flushes, cheeks pinks at their praise.

Yvette continues, “The full-body shot is the one of you in those tight jeans you bought a few months ago. From the back.

Rhys grins, and Vaughn throws his arms up towards the heavens.

“Seriously! I am gonna have words with that guy if he doesn’t pick you!”

“No, you’re not. But thanks, bro.” snorts the Omega. Then his gaze softens, and he looks at the two of them with just the gentlest hint of a smile on his lips. “… Really, guys. Thank you. Even if Handsome Jack doesn’t pick me, I’m so grateful for everything you guys have done.”

Feeling uncomfortably sentimental, Yvette averts her gaze. Vaughn, on the other hand, opens his arms wide to the both of them. Rhys instantly falls into the shorter man’s embrace, who has one arm already curling around the Omega’s shoulders. The other outstretched hand beckons to Yvette.

“C’mooon, ‘Vette,” the other Beta says in a sing-song tone. Rhys copies him, singing her name in that stupidly cute way only an Omega can. Plus, his happiness is affecting his scent enough that she can smell the fragrant aroma of flowers and sandalwood from where she sits.

Yvette groans. But they know her well enough to know that she’s only pretending to be exasperated. As she tucks herself into Vaughn’s other side, they all sigh contentedly.

The worry over Rhys’s fate still hung over their heads, but they were counting this as a small victory. For now, they would wait, and see if anything would come of their little adventure in embezzlement and bribery.



Two days later, Rhys is at the Agency’s headquarters, trying to figure his next move – he’s only got half a week left, at this point – when Yvette bursts in, eyes wide and posture stiff.

He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but the Beta woman strides over to him, grabs him by the wrist, and starts tugging him along. She’s not stronger than Rhys, but he’s so bewildered by her behavior that he doesn’t fight back.

“Yvette, what the hell?” he asks as they trudge through the hallways of the KOA. They pass other Omegas and their handlers, some eyeing Rhys with odd looks. Some even look angry.

“Handsome Jack is here,” Yvette says, not halting her pace, even when Rhys freezes. She just keeps pulling him along, forcing him to make his legs move to keep up.


“Handsome Jack. Is here. In the meeting room, with Vasquez. And he wants to see you.”

Rhys’s eyes grow impossibly wider. “W-What? Why?” They’re approaching said meeting room now – is Handsome Jack really right freakin’ there?!

Yvette stops just before the door, whirling around and putting her hands on Rhys’s shoulders. Her gaze is deadly serious.

“Rhys. He’s here for you. At the Kept Omega Agency. Why do you think he’s here?”

“Oh god.”

“This is the literal opposite of the nightmare scenario, Rhys,” Yvette says, adjusting Rhys’s clothes for him, and smoothing back his hair. He’s too dazed to thank her for it. “You’re gonna go in there, show off your cute little butt, get Handsome Jack to Keep you, and Vasquez can fucking suck it.”

That startles a laugh out of the Omega, whose stance relaxes marginally. “O-Okay. Okay, yeah, let’s do this.”

He gives Yvette a thumbs up. She nods, turns, and opens the door for him.

Rhys walks inside, and oh my god.

Sitting languidly on the meeting room’s plush velvet couch, looking for all the world like every Omega’s (read: Rhys’s) hottest wet dream, was the epitome of Alpha. Broad-shouldered and muscular, but not overtly so, clad in casual clothes that still somehow conveyed power and wealthy beyond anything Rhys could ever imagine.

Two eyes, one green and the other blue, glance up as the door opens and Rhys steps inside, and when they land on the Omega, something sharpens in his gaze.

Handsome goddamn Jack stands, a smirk slowly crossing his masked face as he looks Rhys up and down. Rhys can barely register the sound of Yvette entering behind him and clicking the door closed. The room is just him and Jack, and literally nothing else matters.

Until Vasquez ruins it.

Rhys certainly hadn’t noticed the other Alpha there, his presence easily dwarfed by their CEO, but he coughs politely into his fist, regrettably drawing Rhys’s attention away from Jack.

“Mr. Strongford,” Vasquez introduces, his smile obviously fake. There’s anger in his eyes, to Rhys’s immense satisfaction. “I’m sure you know our guest.”

Rhys’s eyes flick back over to Jack, who’s gotten closer, a mere few feet away from the Omega. He’s got his head cocked to the side, smirk still on his lips. Rhys licks his own lips, wetting them, and Jack’s smirk only grows wider.

“H-Handsome Jack, sir,” Rhys manages to say, bowing his head deferentially. “It’s an honor.”

Jack takes another few steps, and then wow, he’s right in front of Rhys. This close, the Omega can’t help but lift his head and smell him. His scent is – powerful, and not in the overwhelming kind of way. He smells dangerous, like gunpowder and musk.

Rhys could honestly die right now and not be upset. It could not get better than this.

Except, it does, because Jack opens his mouth, and…

“Damn, pumpkin. You’re even prettier in person.”

Rhys squeaks, warmth flooding his face. He’d be embarrassed, except his reaction only elicits a fond grin from Jack, and a furious glare from Vasquez. He thinks he can hear Yvette fist-pumping behind him.

Jack starts to circle around him, taking Rhys in from every angle. He whistles, pitch low and appreciative.

“I thought for sure your pictures were ‘shopped, but no. Fuck, those legs…” Jack spends a moment admiring said legs – Rhys is glad he put on one of his tighter pairs of slacks today – before he finishes his walkaround and stops, once again directly in front of Rhys. “It’s… Reez? That how you say it?”

“R-Rhys, sir,” he corrects, afraid for a half a second that he shouldn’t correct Handsome Jack, but the Alpha only nods.

“Rhys,” he replies. He raises a hand brushes the back of his index finger against Rhys’s neck, making the Omega’s heart start pounding even more rapidly in his chest. “Mind if I get a whiff, Rhysie?”

Rhys bites his bottom lip to keep himself from making another stupidly embarrassing noise, and nods, baring his neck submissively.

Jack grins and wastes no time in leaning down, dragging his nose against Rhys’s scent gland. He doesn’t have a strong scent, per say, except when he’s in heat, but Yvette and Vaughn and all his clients say they like the way he smells. He prays to whatever god is out there that Jack will like it, too.

Just as Jack takes another inhale, Rhys catches sight of Vasquez over Jack’s shoulder. The other Alpha looks downright murderous, glaring daggers in Rhys’s direction. Rhys’s lips curl into a smug smile that he makes sure the asshat can see.

Then Jack steps back, blocking Rhys’s view of Vasquez once more.

“Yeah, that’s the stuff,” he sighs. “Man. The legs, that arm, the ECHOeye, and now you smell like fucking heaven on top of all that? It’s like you walked right outta my dirtiest rut dream, kitten.”

Rhys is overwhelmed, because holy shit. People do not just say things like that. Then again, Handsome Jack isn’t people.

“T-Thank you, sir.”

Jack’s smile is more leisurely now, though his gaze is no less intense. “I need to talk to you alone, sweetheart. About our… arrangement. That alright with your Beta friend over there?”

Rhys swallows, tearing his eyes away from Jack to look at Yvette. She frowns, glancing at Jack – she’s happy the guy is here, and that he seems pretty into Rhys, but she’s also supposed to protect her charge.

Still, Rhys doesn’t want to fuck this up. He nods imploringly at her, and it takes just a few seconds, but she eventually sighs and walks out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.

Jack looks pleased, and he snaps his fingers, startling Rhys. “You too, Wallethead.”

The omega frowns. Who the f –

“Handsome Jack, sir,” Vasquez answers – Wallethead? “It’s not really our policy…”

“Don’t care. Get out, or I shoot you.” Jack’s hand hovers dangerously close to the gun holstered on his thigh. Vasquez audibly gulps, and hightails it out of the room in short order. A few seconds later, and Yvette’s hand is closing the door, giving Jack and Rhys complete privacy.

Jack takes Rhys’s cybernetic hand and gently starts pulling him back towards the couch. “Come sit with me, cupcake.”

Rhys follows easily, practically in a trance. Maybe he’s already dead, he thinks, and he’s in heaven.

After they sit down, Jack doesn’t release Rhys’s hand. Instead, he softly plays with his fingers, watching the way the joints move effortlessly, almost like a real hand would.

“Pretty old model,” says Jack. “Looks like you take good care of it, though, Rhysie.”

Rhys smiles. “Y-Yeah, I… My sisters chipped in to help pay for the arm, so I better take good care of it, y’know?”

Jack’s lips twitch up. “Sisters, huh? Not Hyperion, I’m guessing. Even the lowest salary on Helios would be able to afford you a better model.”

“Well, they’re…” Rhys hesitates for a moment. “They’re back on Pandora. So no, not Hyperion.”

The CEO blinks. “You’re Pandoran?”

“Yeah…” Rhys squares his shoulders. Everyone knows Handsome Jack isn’t… fond of Rhys’s home planet, which is fair, considering all the bandits and cannibalism and horror stories that float back up to the space station. It’s still where Rhys is from, though, and even if he doesn’t love it either, it’s also where his sisters are actually proud to call home.

But instead of looking disgusted or even just disappointed, Jack only says, “Huh,” and strokes his thumb over metal knuckles.

“Gotta be honest, cupcake… a hot, young Omega like you? Figured Pandora would eat you alive.”

Rhys swallows, clenching his cybernetic hand into a fist, looking down at it instead of the Alpha.

“It tried,” he admits quietly.

Jack is quiet for a moment. Then, he raises his other hand and uses it to tilt Rhys’s head up, making the Omega meet his eyes once again.

“Here’s the deal, Rhys,” he begins. “I really wanna Keep you.”

Rhys almost breaks down crying at that – because thank god he hasn’t screwed this whole thing up by now – but he keeps himself in check, because clearly Jack isn’t finished.

“But before we can sign any of that official shit, there are a couple of… conditions.”

“W-… What sort of conditions…?” Rhys asks, breathless.

“I’m a very high-profile man, Rhysie. I mean, duh,” he moves his hand from Rhys’s chin to gesture at himself, though tellingly, his other hand is clasped over Rhys’s cybernetic fist. “And being with me, even as just a Kept Omega, is gonna make you pretty high-profile, too.”

Rhys nods slowly. “I figured… On the way over here, everyone was just staring at me…”

“Gonna be ten times worse once you’re mine, baby. I’ve got some crazy-ass fans; Omega, Beta, Alpha, they’re everywhere. So, for your own protection, I’m gonna need you to carry a weapon. I mean, best case scenario you never have to use it, but in my experience, a lot of attacks are halted when the attacker knows their target is armed. Since you’re Pandoran, I’m guessing you already know how to shoot?”

“I’ve… fired a gun before, yeah,” Rhys admits, shifting awkwardly. “Not really a fan of it, though.”

Jack quirks a brow. “You can’t tell me you survived your whole life down there without firing off more than a few rounds.”

Rhys shrugs. “My older sister gave me a stun baton when I turned sixteen. I preferred using that.”

The Alpha blinks, then barks out a laugh. “A stun baton! Fuck, that actually suits you, I think. Alright, I can get you one of those, no problem.”

Rhys is actually kind of excited at the prospect. He’d had to sell his old one (with Fiona’s blessing) to help pay for the shuttle ride to Helios. It’d be nice to hold a baton in his hands again.

“So I need to be armed,” he says, mostly for his own clarification, but appreciates that Jack nods anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. So… Your file said you were good at all that housekeeping shit?”

“Mmhm,” he hums, trying to not let his bitterness show. Since he was the only Omega in the family, it was all Felix would let him do. Fiona and Sasha gave him more freedom, but whenever dear old dad was around… Rhys was nothing better than a free maid service.

Jack’s eyes are piercing into his. “Including babysitting?”

It’s Rhys’s turn to blink. “I… Yes?”

“Cool, cool.”

Jack fails to offer up clarification right away, as he stares down at their joined hands as if in deep contemplation, so Rhys has to clear his throat a little to get his attention again.

“Why do you, uh… need a babysitter?”

All of a sudden, Jack’s gaze is cool. He looks much more like all the posters and promotional material plastered all around Helios. It makes Rhys want to shiver, but Jack’s answer makes him freeze.

“Because I have a daughter.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yep,” Jack says with fake cheer, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “Light of my life, my little girl. Now, like I said, Rhysie, I’m a high-profile guy. When I took over this company, I made the decision to erase any and all mention of my baby to help protect her. So, to answer your unasked question, that’s why you’ve never heard of her before.”

“I… O-Oh.” Rhys’s head is spinning – Handsome Jack has a daughter? “How… How old is she?”

“Turned ten a few weeks ago,” Jack replies. His tone goes a little tighter. “She just presented, too. An Omega, just like you, sweetheart. ‘S part of the reason I decided to look for a Kept Omega.”

Slowly, Rhys starts to understand. Presenting can be a confusing time, especially when one was younger. Rhys himself presented at nine, and he’d had no one to tell him what was happening to his body. Fiona and Sasha thought he’d gotten sick; it wasn’t until Felix got home, three days later, that he took one whiff of the air and said, with obvious disdain, “Great. You turned out to be an Omega.”

And still, even with his sisters’ help, he had to suffer through puberty alone. On Pandora. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy – except maybe Vasquez.

“You want someone to be there for her,” Rhys says softly, affection swelling for the man he already idolizes. “But you can’t just hire an Omega nanny without someone noticing and wondering why. A Kept Omega would be a way for you to look out for her, and make it seem to the rest of the station that you just wanted an Omega for yourself. I understand.”

Jack gives him a look – calculating, Rhys thinks – and then smiles, but it’s sharp and not at all the lustful, amused one he’d been giving the Omega earlier.

“I’m glad you do.” He leans in close, mouth close to the shell of Rhys’s ear, and Rhys’s heart stops for a minute. “Because I love my baby girl more than anything in the world. If people found out about her, and that put her in danger, and I find out you’re the reason why… I don’t care how pretty you are. You get me, Rhysie?”

Rhys shudders. Worryingly, he can’t tell if it’s out of fear or arousal. Probably safer to say fear. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Jack sits back, the coldness in his demeanor gone, evaporated like smoke. Rhys is going to get whiplash being around this man, he can tell. “And, just for the record, I’m not Keeping you solely for my daughter’s benefit. The things I’m gonna do to you, Rhys… You in?”

Aaaand Rhys’s blush was back, full force. “Ohmygodyes.”

Jack winks at him, then stands up, striding over to the door. He opens it, sticking his head out, and yelling.

“Yo, Wallethead! Draw up that paperwork! I’m Keeping him!”

Rhys hears Yvette’s ‘In your face, Assquez!’ and Vasquez’s wobbling voice next.

“S-Sir, I think it would be in your best interest to pick someone more… suitable.”

There’s a beat of silence. Rhys closes his eyes. Dumbass.

“’In my best interest’?” Jack repeats, incredulous. “The fuck do you know about my best interest, Assquez? That’s a good one, by the way.”

Rhys imagines he’d said that last part to Yvette. Gathering his wits, Rhys stands up and goes to join Jack at the door. Yvette and Vasquez are out in the hallway, the former looking smug and the latter looking constipated. Spotting him, Yvette flashes him a grin, which he returns with one of his own.

“S-Sir,” Vasquez continues, “I’m only saying – I just – him?” He gestures his arms towards Rhys, whom Jack now notices is behind him.

Jack growls, slipping an arm around Rhys’s waist and pulling him forwards to stand beside him. Rhys preens at the obvious display of dominance. And, feeling a bit brave, he lays his head on Jack’s shoulder and raises a brow at Vasquez’s sputtering form. Yvette looks proud. Jack, for his part, seems pleased with Rhys’s boldness.

Go on, his expression tells the asshat who’s made the past month of Rhys’s life absolutely miserable. Say something else. I dare you.

“Yeah, him,” Jack says, emphasizing his point by squeezing his hand at Rhys’s hip. It earns a startled little gasp from the Omega, and Jack grins. “There a problem with that?”

“I just – we have another Alpha interested in Keeping him, sir, and it doesn’t seem fair - !”

Jack’s grin drops. “Too bad. I own this little enterprise of yours, you know that, right Assquez?”

Vasquez is trembling. “I-I… Y-Yes, sir…”

“Then you can tell that other Alpha, whoever the fuck he is, to piss off, because Rhysie here is mine. Now, every minute you make me wait for that damn paperwork is a minute I could be spending with these,” he slides his hand down just enough to pat the top of Rhys’s thigh, “gorgeous legs wrapped around my waist, so I’m kind of pissed you’re making me miss out on that.”

Quick as a flash, Jack draws his gun with his free hand, and Vasquez is staring down the barrel of it. Yvette gasps, Vasquez screams, and Rhys leans forward, eager.

Jack seems to notice the Omega’s reaction the most and aims a smile at him before turning his attention back to the sniveling Alpha.

“So either you hurry the fuck up, or I shoot you and wait for your replacement.”

Vasquez holds up his hands. “I-I’ll get right on it, sir!”

“Good. Chop chop, dickbag.”

As Vasquez flees, Jack lowers his gun with a snicker. Rhys deflates, a little disappointed. Jack notices this, too.

“Not a fan of your boss, sweetie?”

“Not really, no.” He sighs, sharing a commiserating look with Yvette. Would’ve been great to get both Plan A and Plan B done.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him,” Jack continues. “After today’s performance he’s totally getting demoted.”

Rhys can’t help the startled laugh that tears out of his mouth. “Awesome.”

Yvette, who’s been watching them carefully, a small smile on her face, finally speaks up.

“Handsome Jack, sir?”


“Will Rhys be staying with you while you Keep him, or would you prefer he stay at his apartment.”

Jack’s brow furrows. “Uh, he’s staying with me, obviously. Who Keeps an Omega and doesn’t even let them stay with them?”

Yvette shrugs. “Some Alphas are weird about it. How soon would you like Rhys to move in?”

“Soon as possible. You got people for that, right?”

She nods, already whipping out her ECHOpad. “Should I have the movers directed towards the penthouse, sir?”

“Yeah. Tell ‘em to leave everything outside though, they won’t have the clearance to get in and just get shot by the turrets.”

Jack looks amused when she only nods, tapping away at her device. Then to Rhys, he says, “Efficient chick, your Beta buddy.”

Rhys sighs happily, watching her work. “Yvette’s the best.”



An hour or so later, after all the t’s are crossed and i’s dotted, and Rhys, as a newly-Kept Omega, savors the look of abject horror on Vasquez’s face when Jack tells him he’s fired, the pair are entering Jack’s penthouse suite, while a group of small assistance bots carry Rhys’s things in for them.

“You’ll have your own room,” says Jack as they walk in. “But, ah, you’re gonna spend a lot of time in mine, if you know what I mean.”

Rhys rolls his eyes fondly, but before he can reply, a young girl’s head pokes out from behind a corner wall that leads into a hallway.


Both men’s attention goes to her. Jack grins, opening his arms with aplomb.

“Angel! C’mere, baby, Daddy’s got someone for you to meet!”

Rhys’s stare is fixed on the young girl – he can’t tell if her name is actually Angel, or if that’s just one of Jack’s nicknames for her. She… doesn’t look like Jack, to be honest, save for her bright blue eyes, which resemble Jack’s right one. She’s pale where he’s tan, her hair is black instead of brown, and her frame is skinny instead of broad. Still, she’s a cute kid, especially as she shuffles out of the hall and shyly approaches them. Her eyes are on Rhys, watching him carefully.

Jack kneels beside her once she’s within appropriate range. Putting one hand on her shoulder, he points at Rhys with his other.

“This, sweetpea, is Rhys. You remember, right? He’s my Kept Omega now.”

Rhys blinks at that. Remember? They’ve never met before.

But apparently not, because his daughter’s eyes light up with recognition. A wide smile overtakes her face.

“You really picked him, Daddy?” she asks excitedly. Without awaiting his response, she bolts forward, staring up at Rhys with awe. “He’s even prettier in person!”

Rhys blushes and Jack snorts.

“’S what I said, too.”

Rhys is horribly confused. “Uh.”

“Your arm is so cool!” the girl chatters away. “And your eye! Didn’t that hurt? Daddy says only 30% of people survived the procedure, but you’re still alive, so you must be really tough, right? That’s awesome! How fast is the processing speed on it? Can you scan things? Daddy says that’s one of the coolest features!”

Rhys stares down at the girl, blindsight by the sudden interview. Still, it’s sort of endearing. And he’s never been called tough before. He smiles at her, lowering himself to his knees so he can address her better. As he does, he gets a faint whiff of something sweet, like fruits and flowers. She’s definitely an Omega, though her scent hasn’t quite set in yet.

“Well, uh – thank you, Miss…?”

“Angel!” she replies.

Rhys chuckles. Jack is watching them, he notes. “Miss Angel. The eye did hurt, but only for a bit while I was recovering. I don’t know about me being tough, but the processing speed is pretty fast. About 15 gigahertz, last I checked. And I can scan things. It’s pretty cool.”

Angel’s eyes are round with wonder. “Wow. Is it connected to your arm? How did that happen, anyway? Was it voluntary, like your eye?”

“Alright, sweetpea, hold on,” Jack finally stands, scooping Angel up in his arms. “Let the guy settle in before the interrogation. Jeez, no manners on you.”

Angel looks abashed. “S-Sorry, Daddy.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Rhys.”

She turns her eyes towards Rhys, peering up from under her bangs. “Sorry, Rhys.”

Adorable. Rhys’s heart squeezes. “It’s fine, Angel. I’ll answers all your questions after I’m settled, okay?”

She grins and nods. “Daddy, we’re gonna help him with his stuff, right?”

Jack pretends to groan, pointing at the robots still moving in and out of the apartment with Rhys’s things. “Ugh. Why do I even build robots if you never wanna use them?”

Angel’s response is to jump down from her father’s arms, run over to one of the smaller boxes left in the doorway, and run back into the penthouse, carrying the box further in. She looks back at Rhys.

“Your room’s this way!”

And then she disappears around the corner.

“She’s adorable,” Rhys says, mostly to himself. Jack chuckles.

“Isn’t she?”

The Omega glances at him. “She… knew who I was already.”

“Hm?” Jack looks at him, smiling lazily. “Oh, yeah. Well, she was the one who picked out your file first.”


“C’mon, Rhysie, I’m not gonna pick a Kept Omega without my little girl’s input. What if they showed up and she hated them? Then I’d have to do the whole stupid thing over again.”

“And she… picked me?”

“Yep. Said you looked pretty and cool.” Jack’s gaze turns into a leer, his smile into a smirk. “She wasn’t wrong. I took one look at that photo of your legs and bam. No way we were gonna pick someone else.”

Rhys has to look away then, because he feels full to the brim with gratification.

Angel pops back out from around the corner, running to grab another box.

“Come on, slowpokes!” she yells, disappearing yet again in her rush towards Rhys’s new room.

Jack sighs. He picks up a box and shrugs at Rhys. “You heard the little lady.”

Rhys smiles, copying Jack and picking up one of his own boxes. He follows Jack down the hall, eager to see what his life as a Kept Omega is going to offer him.

If it’s given him Jack and Angel already, then he can’t imagine it getting any better.







Jack rubs at his face, fingers carefully avoiding the scar. His mask sits, face-up, on the corner of his desk, but since he’s the only one in his home office, he doesn’t really care about anyone seeing him.

That’s when the office door opens, naturally, and Jack tenses for a moment before relaxing, seeing Angel’s face peering from behind the door.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jack greets. “Something wrong?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I just wanted to know what you were doing, Daddy. I’m bored.”

“Bored? Well, we can’t have that.” He pats his lap, and she grins, bounding up to him. In no time at all, Angel is seated on her father’s lap, looking at the papers he has strewn all around his desk. There are several photos, all of different people, and Angel frowns at them.

“Daddy? Who are they?” she asks, pointing to the photos.

Jack sighs. “They, Angel baby, are Omegas. I’m looking into Keeping one.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you need another Omega around, darling,” he says gently. “I know I’m awesome, but there are some things only certain endotypes can do for each other, y’know?”

She frowns, her little brow creasing as she thought. “I guess… So you’re hiring me a babysitter?”

“It’s not like that, baby.”

Jack adjusts her in his lap, picking up one of the files. Vanessa Carsten, it reads, showing a pretty redhead and a confident smirk. Reminds him of Lilith, actually. With a grimace, he tosses her file to the floor, earning a giggle from Angel.

“See, sweetpea, if I hired a babysitter, then people would get curious. ‘What? Handsome Jack doesn’t have any kids, why does he need a babysitter, or a nanny, or whatever? Unless he does!’ and oh, geez, the conspiracy theorists would go nuts. A Kept Omega, on the other hand, is like a nanny, except they do a lot of other stuff, too. It’s basically like… hiring somebody to be yours and Daddy’s friend. But people will think they’re just Daddy’s friend.”

Angel blinks. “Oh… What other stuff do they do?”

Jack pauses, considering. “Oh, they could cook or clean, or just hang out. Y’know.”

“Do they do the nasty with you?”

Jack splutters. “Wh – Who taught you that phrase?”

She swings her legs back and forth over his knees, innocent as a baby. “I read it on the ECHOnet, Daddy. I know what it means. I looked up lots of stuff about Omegas since I… y’know.”

Jack frowns. “Okay, you’re totally getting a restriction placed on your ECHOnet usage.”

She sticks out her tongue. “I’d like to see you try.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack picks up another file, studiously avoiding her eyes. A minute ticks by in silence, and not once does Angel look away from her dad. Persistent little lady.

“… Fine, yes. They would also ‘do the nasty’ with me. You get an Omega to hang around with, I get a maid-slash-bed-buddy. Everyone wins.”

“What do they get?” Angel continues, relentless.

“I… A lot of money? Getting to stay in the penthouse? Basking in my glorious presence?”

“Hmm.” Angel looks down at the files herself, considering. “Well… If you’re gonna… Keep an Omega partly for me, I should help you, right?”

“Knock yourself out, baby.” Jack tosses the file he’s currently holding – Trent Ventas, who looks like a tool. Seriously, were these the best Wallethead had to offer?

Angel pushes some files around, pretending to methodical, though Jack knows she’s just waiting for something to jump out at her. After a minute, it does. Her tiny hands dive into the pile of papers, pulling one up from the bottom, accidentally sending a bunch of other files sliding off Jack’s desk and to the floor. Not that she seems to care, as engrossed as she is with the file she’s reading.

Curious, Jack looks over her shoulder.

Oh. Oh wow. A headshot of a gorgeous male Omega looks back at him. His smile isn’t salacious or secretive, like some of the others’ were, but just a simple curve of his pink lips. His eyes were heterochromatic, like Jack’s own, though it isn’t until he sees the gray neural port at his temple that he realizes the blue eye is one of Hyperion’s own ECHOeye devices. Damn.

Somewhat more importantly (at least to Jack), the guy’s obviously a bit of a show-off. Pale, smooth skin peeks deliciously out from an unbuttoned collar, and even more tantalizing than that are the hints of blue tattoos showing here and there. There’s a black, circular tattoo on his neck, too, filling Jack with the overwhelming urge to bite there.

How did Jack miss this guy?

“Look, Daddy, he’s got more cybernetics!” Angel exclaims, pulling out a full-body photo. She shows it to him, pointing to the full-armed cybernetic where the guy’s right arm should’ve been, and that was cool, but Jack’s attention was currently glued to those fucking Legs. Legs with a capital-goddamn-L.

“He’s… Wow, sweetie. You know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?”

Angel grins, satisfied with herself. “It says his name is… Ris Strongford.”

Jack looks at the name. R-H-Y-S. Huh. He’s pretty sure it’s not pronounced like that, but whatever.

“He’s pretty,” his daughter hums. “And those cybernetics are so cool.”

“Yes and yes, Angel. May I?”

He holds out his hand, and Angel gives him the file, though she keeps the full-body photo, presumably getting a better look at that arm.

Jack reads the whole file, in the meantime. Good at cooking and cleaning, which is awesome. Excellent cuddler, according to some of his past clients, also awesome. Generally good at housekeeping and other ‘typical Omega stuff’, as it was written down. Jack’s eyes wander down further to the ‘Personal’ section, where the Omegas usually wrote quick little passages to help sell themselves.

Rhys’s read:

“I’m probably not going to accept right off the bat, because apparently I’m very picky. Honestly, unless you’re like, Handsome Jack or something, you’re gonna have to try harder than just showing up and asking. If you are Handsome Jack, though, then the answer is yes. :P”

Jack laughs, nearly startling Angel off his lap. He murmurs a quick apology to his daughter, but his lips are still quirked up with mirth.

Gorgeous, skilled, and a fan of his. Like he was handed down from the gods themselves.

“Daddy, this is a lot of files,” whines Angel.

“Oh, don’t worry about them, sweetie.” With one hand, Jack swipes most of the other files off his desk, photos of random Omegas now strewn across his floor. Angel gasps. Jack grins at the photo of Rhys.

“I already have my choice.”