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strongfuck · 2 years ago

Note

💋 "Careful what you offer, Kitten."

from this meme.

Rhys has kissed Zer0, Lorelei, and so many of his Crimson Lance that it's starting to feel ridiculous. But when you play spin the bottle with seven different bottles spinning at the same time, he supposes he shouldn't have expected any less-- he'd promised to play the game just like anyone else, and if that leaves him tasting twenty different kinds of alcohol on his own mouth in one night, then it is what it is.

Coming home from the party at Atlas HQ (the first they've had since Maliwan was driven out of Promethea and Katagawa Jr. was slain), Rhys is exhausted. He'll have to start work on cleanup and relocations tomorrow, but for now, he decides to ride the high of victory a little longer. He undoes his tie, moves sluggishly from his living room to his bedroom, and opts for showering in the morning; he's tired enough that just finding something comfortable to sleep in is an ordeal in itself.

It's only after he's shrugged his button-down off that he hears Jack in the doorway to his room.

"You kissed a lot of people today."

"What, were you watching?" Rhys doesn't bother turning around, pulling the loose sleep shirt onto himself and working on unbuttoning his trousers next. "You know, you could've just gone to the party."

Jack scoffs. "They couldn't handle all of this."

"Or you just didn't want Zer0 to see you."

"Oh, fuck you." A beat. "Eh, wouldn't have been fun if there was a Vault Hunter tryin' to kill me as I drank your shitty beer, anyway."

"I see." Rhys kicks his trousers off, pulls his jogging pants up, and then bundles his clothes up to toss them in the hamper.

Jack steps aside to let him walk down the hall, one hand behind him. "...was it fun?"

"What?"

"Kissing all those idiots."

Rhys yawns, shrugging one shoulder up. "Fun's kind of the point of playing a game, Jack."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"Well, it was enjoyable enough--" Rhys pauses as he turns from the bathroom doorway, interrupted by the sight of what Jack's holding. A bottle of sports drink is in his hand, and the cap points up to himself-- him and the scowl on his face and the furrow in his brows.

"Oh."

"What do you mean, 'oh'? This is a bottle. It's pointing at me. Make with the kissing."

Rhys tries desperately not to laugh. "That's not how it--"

"Yeah, it fucking is!" Jack's free hand flings out, then points right at Rhys himself. "Careful what you offer, kitten-- you can't just back down because you're a god damn pussy."

"I am not."

"Then why aren't you--"

Fist in Jack's shirt, Rhys tugs him into a simple kiss. It's easy at first, closed mouth just like all the other kisses in that silly game had been, but then the bottle falls to the floor with a thump and Jack's hands are grasping his face with nothing short of possessiveness. Mine, Rhys can already hear him say, even as Jack's mouth becomes preoccupied with Rhys' eager tongue. The way Jack touches him, the way Jack comes in close, the way Jack seems to relax only when Rhys has wrapped his arms around his waist-- it's mine, mine, mine down to the core.

When the kiss finally breaks, Rhys looks down at him with a crooked smile. "Better?"

"Passable." Jack licks his lips, head tilting slightly as his thumb slides over Rhys' mouth. "But you could always try again."

So with a roll of the eyes, Rhys pulls him into his room and does just that.

#lowerqualityrp #lowerqualityrp: jack.#drabble.#[ not me writing a rhack thing good lord #PRETEND I HAVE JACKS VOICE DOWN ]#rhys x lq jack tag tba.

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rose-de-noire · 3 years ago

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press all the right buttons

(AU, Rhys is Jack’s PA) Jack saw them in a pet vid and promptly installed these talk-buttons for Butt Stallion to press. The diamond pony now basically lives on the buttons “Daddy” and “Petpets”. Jack, being a surprisingly good pet owner, does as she asks whenever the buttons are pressed. Then he and Rhys start dating for good. Doesn’t change the fact that Handsome Jack’s still a workaholic. He sometimes just blatantly gets lost in his work, even forgetting his very pretty lover. And then Rhys starts aggressively pressing buttons: “Daddy” and “Petpets” Jack puts his work down and grins.

#obviously my first rhack post's gonna be a shit post...#rhack #Handsome Jack #rhys strongfork #drabble

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matsoukun · 8 years ago

Note

Kissing prompt: #8 rhack!

for my baby brother !! sorry if this is shit lmao it’s so short compared to my others.

THANKQ for requesting this tho omfg i feel validated someone asked me something

kiss prompt: being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward.

“Jack?” Rhys asks, out of breath, his hands on either side of Jacks jaw.

“Mm?” Jack hums in response, barely paying attention.

“Open your eyes!” He chuckles, patting Jack’s cheek gently with his organic hand.

“Open my… What?” Jack slumps over in Rhys’ chest from where he had been propping himself up above Rhys a few moments before, sighing heavily. Rhys sighs along with him, rolling his own eyes at Jack’s behaviour.

“Tuckered out, are we?” Rhys laughs, pulling a blanket over the two of them.

“No.” Jack mumbles into Rhys’ inked chest. “You’re just, really, really good at kissing.” Both of them are exhaustedly laughing now at Jack’s stupid remarks.

“Oh my god, you are such an idiot- a flattering idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.” Rhys face palms, his laughs dying down, being replaced by tired, heavy breaths.

Rhys lays his head back against the lush bedding, his eyes closed. They lay together, Jack’s head resting heavily on Rhys’ torso, Rhys’ hand tangled in Jack’s thick hair.

“You have-” Jack starts, hesitating a little “You have nice lips, I guess.” He finishes, heaving his head up from Rhys’ skin to look him in the eyes, his unmasked face blushing slightly.

Jack is about to say something snarky about how he prefers his ass much more than his lips before Rhys quickly interrupts him, much to Jacks dismay. “Did you hear that?” Rhys starts, putting his hand to his ear dramatically “Was that THE Handsome Jack complimenting ME?” They’re both chuckling until Jack rolls off of Rhys to punch his arm softly, pouting.

“Don’t get too cocky, it’s not good for your health.” Jack jokes, lying with his arms folded behind his head next to Rhys. “Yeah, cause you’re the epitome of health.” Rhys fires back, turning to lay on his side so he can rest his head on Jacks chest, his cybernetic arm draped across Jacks naked torso.

They lay there momentarily, until Rhys notices how Jack is shifting uncomfortably, fidgeting subtly underneath Rhys’ cybernetic arm. “What’s wrong?”

Jack freezes for a second before shifting again “Your arm is cold.” He retorts sulkily, rolling his eyes as if it was obvious. Of course Jack would be the one to complain about the temperature of a cybernetic arm of all things.

“Oh, sorry?” Rhys replies, coughing awkwardly as he feels laughter creeping up his throat, he sits up to remove his arm, going to plug it in to its charging socket when he hears Jack begin to whine. “What’s wrong now?”

“Now I’m cold.” He grumbles, motioning with his head (considering his arms were now wrapped around himself for warmth) for Rhys to come lie back down. “It’s cold in here.”

“Wow, old people do feel the cold.” Rhys mumbles, half-by meaning for Jack to hear. Jack pulls Rhys back down onto the bed, holding him close and deciding to let the smartass comments slide for once.

“Just shut up and let me kiss you, idiot.”

#rhack #rhys the company man #handsome jack #hj #tales from the borderlands #borderlands #my dads #hyperion husbands #tftbl #my writing #rhack drabble

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atlas-hyperion · 3 years ago

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it takes blood to build a castle

Three hours after Helios burns to the ground, Rhys misplaces the ECHOeye somewhere in the Pandoran desert. Three years after that, Promethea is plunged into a global blackout.

crossposted on ao3 because why not?

Word Count: 2,620

Three hours after Helios burns to the ground, Rhys misplaces the ECHOeye somewhere in the Pandoran desert. By the time he notices that it’s missing, it’s too late and the desert sand has kicked up into a dust storm, obscuring the road. Rhys curses up a storm but doesn’t say a word to Fiona when she asks. How could he? How could he tell her that ‘Oh, yeah. He just kept the genocidal AI who tried to kill everybody alive out of a mix of misplaced admiration and sadism. Maybe? Even he’s not sure why he kept the eye? Haha, whoops?’ When you put it that way, it sounds crazy.

So Rhys doesn’t. Tell Fiona, that is.

In fact, Rhys doesn’t tell anybody about Jack. For the first few months after the Vault - after what he’s calling the Incident - Rhys is on full alert, jumping at the nearest sound. Did somebody revive Jack? Yeah, being so twitchy isn’t healthy, but Rhys passed that line when he plugged Jack into his head. No, it was when he joined Hyperion instead of a second-rate like Tediore. But what else is he supposed to do? Relax? When Jack could be out there?

Eventually - and by eventually, he means two and a half painful and insufferable months later - he stops being so jittery. But he’s always wary.

If anything, Jack taught him best. The lesson in question being that Rhys should never trust easily. Instead of killing people outright like Jack, Rhys smiles, treats them kindly. But he never lets his guard down. Not even just because of his trust issues - those existed well before Jack and grew in the cutthroat office culture of Hyperion, where one wrong move got you killed, even if Rhys himself wasn’t willing to take a life back then.

No, it’s because CEOs of megacorporations have mega-sized targets on their heads. Rhys knows of at least seven different assassin guilds that have set a hefty bounty on Rhys being dead. Honestly, he hates that he kind of understands why Jack was so trigger-happy. Who knows where the next assassin will come from. Dahl? Vladof? Maliwan? Or just a lucky shot from some sucker with nothing to lose and everything to gain?

[ We’re not so different, you and I. ]

He spends the next seven months after that minor breakdown avoiding the robotics lab with a religious fervor. He doesn’t care that his arm needs tuning up; he can do that himself. Rhys knows that they…well, appropriated tech and research from the ruins of Helios. Well, less they and more Atlas employees. Rhys doesn’t think he can stomach going back to the wreckage and seeing the destruction he caused.

What was it even all for? He killed coworkers and bosses and interns and even their innocent family members. Why? To stop Jack. Then Rhys kept Jack alive. And then Rhys loses the ECHOeye on Pandora, never to be found again. Jack’s still out there. Rhys can feel it.

So no. Rhys isn’t touching Helios or the robotics lab with a ten-foot pole. He knows from the biweekly employee updates that the researchers there are working on augmentation. Full-body augmentation. The first time Rhys saw the plans, he threw his laptop across his office and had to ask his unimpressed secretary for a new one, preferably a desktop this time. What does she know? It’s not like she has the lives of thousands on her hands.

(Whoooo, calm down. He shouldn’t take it out on other people.)

It’s just that Rhys swears he can even sometimes hear Jack’s voice echoing in his head. Mocking him. Taunting him. But there’s no trace of him left in Rhys’ head - he would know. The possibly justified paranoia is the reason why he goes a scan of all his cybernetics every month. Nothing changes every time but it calms him down, considering Jack somehow evading his scans literally means life or death for both Rhys and everyone in Atlas.

It’s during one of these routine scans that the Blackout happens. By now, it’s been three and a half years since Helios crashed into the sandy dunes of Pandora. Since then, Rhys has gotten a little cybernetic diagnostic machine of his very own installed in his office. It guzzles power like a madman, but Rhys only uses it once a month, so he deems it alright. It’s unplugged every other day. As for the security - since Rhys is such a lovely paranoid person now - it’s under constant lock and key to avoid anybody tampering with it. He even installed turrets by the door to ensure no spies might sneak into his office.

Wait. Fuck, he just took another page right out of Jack’s book. Damn it. Even in death or perpetuity of nothingness in the ECHOeye, the man seems to haunt him like a specter, unwilling to let Rhys move on. It’s gotten to the point where Rhys is actively making decisions to be less like Jack because if he’s not paying attention, the similarities are disquieting. Though, he supposes that is what happens when an insane AI lives in your head and knows everything about you. You start to sort of meld together and the effects will probably stay for a lifetime.

[ You got to break it down to build it back up— ]

(Was Rhys good before Jack in his head? No. The mining deal demonstrated that pretty well. But having Jack spending so much time messing around with his circuits really didn’t help.)

[ —and there’s so much to break down before you we can build again— ]

He’s in the middle of scanning his arm when the machine blips and turns off. Then, a split second afterward, the power in his office breaks. In the darkness, his ECHOeye flickers on automatically, adjusting to the newfound lack of light. Rhys sits there, staring at the now useless scanner in the dark for a few seconds before he jumps up in a panic. Glancing outside a window in his office, he’s treated to the terrifying sight of city blocks going dim, one after another.

(It’s eerily quiet, the sound of the city on mute as everything screeches to a halt. The sirens of the ambulances cut off abruptly; the advertisements blaring in Electra have gone black. Even without the noise-canceling built into his office walls, Rhys can’t hear anything. Anything at all.)

The first thought that runs into his mind is foul play. After all, Atlas HQ’s power systems are the most protected in the city. If there were a power outage, reserves would be directed here, since there are certain experiments that require constant electricity. Classified and...erm, spark skag-based experiments.

But the power in his office went out first. Rhys chews on the corner of his bottom lip. This isn’t good. If they have enough power in his systems that they can just turn off the power for the whole city and bypass all the safeguards and firewalls, they could probably kill Atlas with a snap of a finger. All their research and documents deleted or released to rival companies with a flick of a wrist. Shit, he’s fucked. All this should be impossible, but it’s happening.

So someone’s attacking Atlas and sabotaging their power. Who is it? Some company spy or an extortionist? Maybe it’s someone ex-Hyperion who understandably isn’t too happy with Rhys.

(A small part of his brain whispers that maybe it’s somebody who has a personal ax to grind. It’s gotta be him.)

He mentally flips through his ECHOeye to check on everything. Yep, the ECHO connections are down too. He’s so fucked. How did they sneak up on him like this? Atlas has some of the best firewalls in the six galaxies; even if someone got through, the alarms would go off. But having complete mainframe access like this to cut off the ECHOnet entirely? That takes months or years of careful planning. Or a backdoor. But Rhys checked everything over himself - there couldn’t be, right?

In a moment of panic, Rhys runs over to the keypad at the door. It’s dark. Shit.

[ Hey, language! ]

Yeah, fuck. The keypad normally a vibrant red, is lacking all its color, and Rhys can almost feel that same rosy hue leech out of his face at the realization. The only way he can get out of this room now is once the auxiliary power for HQ kicks in.

But seeing as it hasn’t yet, Rhys prepares himself to spend some time directing the fight while stuck in his office. He manually pages his PA on a radio walkie-talkie he decided to use on a whim after finding a pair sitting under his desk on his first day here.

The only sound he gets is a crackling static. Damn it, what the hell is wrong now? The sound of creaking metal and splintering wood fills the room and for a moment, he wonders whether the tower is about to fall. But no, Rhys wasn’t paying attention and just took a chunk out of his desk with his robotic arm. Perfectly normal. He’s fine. Rhys is not freaking out and if you say he is, he will fire you.

He’s shaking out a couple of splinters that have lodged in his finger joints when he sees a light turn on from the corner of his eye. For a brief moment, a spark of hope lights up in his chest. Is the power back? That small flame is immediately extinguished by the chilling realization that the only thing on with power is his computer. He walks around his desk and stares at his desktop in trepidation. Because his computer being the only thing with power in what looks like the whole damn city isn’t strange and suspicious at all.

Not like he’s got any other option though. But just in case. Rhys walks over to the door one more time, just to see if he can try to get it open. He could probably send enough electricity from his cybernetics to power the door long enough to escape, but that would leave him dead on his feet in the event of an emergency. It would conk out his ECHOeye and his arm until the power came back. That’s not something he’s willing to risk. He’s also pretty sure that whoever’s in Atlas’ systems is watching him and would try their best to stop Rhys from escaping.

Rhys’ footsteps echo in his office, his skag skin boots clicking against the metal floor. He’s not sure why he feels so disquieted. Nothing has changed. Nothing except his computer, it seems. When did the screen change? Previously a blank white, the screen displays a semicolon and a right bracket. A winky-face.

There’s a sudden thud and grinding of gears underneath Rhys’ feet and the power in Meridian Square blinks on. But only Meridian Square. Atlas HQ still stays frustratingly dark. He clamors up against the window to get a better view - he’s not sliding down onto the roof unless he has to. There’s no need for it; Rhys can hear what’s being broadcast in the square with no problem. He’s not at the right angle to see what’s being projected on the screens, but from the sound of things, he can imagine. It sends shivers down his spine.

“No need to panic, everybody. I’m not here to destroy the planet or take over Atlas. Not like I’d want this dump. Just want a little chat with your CEO, see? So just stand there, admiring my genius and nobody has to get hurt. Don’t give me a reason. I haven’t killed anybody in two years, my trigger finger’s real twitchy.”

That’s not who he thinks it is, right? No, it can’t be. How did he get here? He should be buried under a layer of sand on Pandora. Not hacking Rhys’ tower.

“Now that we understand - HEY! I felt that. Ooh, an Atlas code monkey. You tried to take back control from me. You tried to kick me out. You tried to KILL me. We can’t have that.” There’s a moment of silent suspense from the square. “Ah, I found the security bots. Huh, wonder what it would be like to kill someone with a medic bot. Whatever.”

The sound of a lone gunshot seems to echo and Rhys can somehow hear it from all the way up in his office. Are the sounds being projected to him? The feed in the square unexpectedly cuts off, plunging the city into total darkness once more. Then, as the walls of Atlas tremble and shake, the speakers in his office screech a harsh and crude static. Rhys winces and claps his hands over his ears, sinking to his knees in pain, face pressed up against the glass window.

He’s pretty sure his ears are bleeding - and when he pulls his hands back, his ECHOeye all but confirms it. Where was the shaking from?

“I just set off a couple of your experiments, don’t worry pumpkin. I’m sure the skags on level five will only eat the researchers on that floor. You don’t need anybody but Jackie here anyways.” Rhys shakily stands up and unsteadily walks towards his desk, using it as a crutch when he gets there. The ringing in his hearing persists and he can barely hear who’s talking to him; it sounds like a mumble, just strong enough for Rhys to parse out. He shudders, though whether from the pain or from who’s talking to him, he’s not quite sure.

“Heya, Rhysie.” The scarily familiar voice hisses the last word in anger, crackling over the PA system. It’s the voice of someone who he had both adored and hated; someone who he’d killed and saved. Rhys refuses to cower. He’s stronger than that; he’s Atlas’ CEO and he’ll face the man on equal footing. Shrugging off the pain - or at the very least, ignoring it for now - he glances back down at his monitor.

Jack.

“D’ya miss me?” When Rhys doesn’t respond, Jack continues on. “Aw, don’t look like that. You look like a kicked puppy. A bleeding, half-cyborg, kicked puppy. Anyways, I meant what I said in the Square. I just want a chat. I won’t hurt you.”

“You just gotta make a deal with the Devil.” Jack continues on. “So what d’ya say, pumpkin? Will you help me get Hyperion back? Or will I have to burn Promethea to the ground? Limited time offer, kiddo. Choose wisely, I’m only asking once.”

Rhys sighs, glancing around the room. He doubts that he’d be able to hack the system to kick Jack out without Jack catching on. He certainly doesn’t want to see what'll happen then. He’s less angry and more resigned; he refuses to kill everyone on Promethea.

[ Why? You murdered everybody on Helios to try and stop me. Why do you care now? What makes everything different now? ]

It's not even moral qualms at this point; he worked so hard to resurrect Atlas that he'd rather die than start back at square one. He did know that this day would come eventually. You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain and Jack’s not one to just roll over and die.

And Rhys supposes, neither is he. He survived Hyperion, he survived Pandora, he survived Helios. He'll be damned if he dies here to Handsome Jack.

[ See, everybody thinks they're the hero of their own story - ^@&$#^&!%@ - and the ones you love litter the roadside. ]

#rhack #rhys #rhys strongfork #handsome jack #atlas ceo rhys #this is on ao3 as well #formatting’s better there #bee wouldn't write me anything :( so i got bored #wrote this in ten minutes #so it's not that great #is this the first chapter to a new fic?#or is this just a drabble #you decide ig #unbeta'd #from zee

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tonystarkfucksaround · 3 years ago

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Fic prompts anyone?

Heeey so. I’d really love to write some drabbles, I’ve been real rusty lately and I want to overcome the sudden shyness that won’t let me finish or post new things, and if maybe someone has any prompts I’d love to give them a try!

Can’t promise I’d be real fast about it, but I sure will try my best!

I’d like to focus on cherik for now, but I’m also always open to frostiron and rhack if there’s anyone interested! ♥

#cherik #charles xavier #Erik Lehnsherr #frostiron #rhack #I have like. more than 8k words of cherik in my drafts #but somehow I'm anxious to work on it let alone post it #I need to overcome this weird fear of not being welcome in a fandom I guess #never really had this problem before #not to such an extent anyway #but if I could start easy with something small like drabbles maybe that could help!#even if it doesn't at least I hope it could be fun for everyone involved!

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lovebunnie · 6 years ago

Link

this honestly really sucks but i guess its a series now and idk where im gonna go with it

#celeste drabbles #borderlands #rhack #writing jack is like mostly witty dialogue #aka my worst nightmare #so this was tricky

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ladymdc · 2 years ago

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for spacefall again! (2/?) ♥️: Jack is a space station, and Rhys sometimes just throws his arms around the nearest bit of architecture. Technically he can't feel it, but...

————————————————

Jack isn’t great at showing appreciation. It’s as unfamiliar as craving it, but he only craves the appreciation of one.

The one who brought him back from the dead, uploaded him into Helios, and trusts Jack without fail.

The one who hugs random pieces of architecture to show his appreciation even when he thinks Jack isn’t paying attention.

But Jack is always paying attention.

He can’t feel it, and yet he can. Pride. Warmth.

Regret.

He hasn’t figured out how to convey his appreciation, so for now, Jack watches, keeping Rhys safe from anyone who would dare take him away.

#rhack #mc drabbles #sorry I’ve been dumping these daily #but I have quite a few done & something unpleasant coming up tomorrow #so I’m sure I’ll need a little time away to recover afterward

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thethespacecoyote · 7 years ago

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“Are you going to rip my heart out again?” for Rhack? :3

sorry these are drabbles and i changed the wording a bit :(

Jack knows that Rhys is going to try to stop him—he just doesn’t understand that Jack can’t let that last humiliation lie. Staying home means letting those bandits win, and he can’t stand the thought, even if he’d barely escaped the last encounter with his life.

Still, he doesn’t resist when Rhys grabs him by the wrist, eyes wide and disbelieving and angry, with force behind his fingers Jack’s never felt before. It takes him a moment to realize he’s using his cybernetic hand, warm metal digits digging into the flesh just above Jack’s tattoo.

“You can’t do this.” Rhys’ voice shakes with the effort of breathing, trying to steady the pace of his heart as it sends bells of alarm through his body. “This is stupid. This is suicide.”

And he’s right, probably, but to Jack taking down the bastards standing in the way is worth the risk of death—after all, is any action really heroic without something valuable on the line?

“This is the only way to make sure they learn their lesson,” Jack growls, tendons in his wrist flexing underneath Rhys’ fingers, but he only squeezes tighter. It almost hurts, stinging up Jack’s arm into injuries not quite healed. Like his body’s trying to get him to listen to Rhys, but he won’t let it convince him.

Rhys’ next tearful, shaking plea almost does, though.

“Do you want to rip my heart out again?”

#spacetext #rhack #long post #fanfic #its just a drabble lol does it even count....#tftbl #hipsterizzy

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stormwright · 7 years ago

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The hiss of the shower was a distant, immaterial thing; a quiet hum of noise that dipped in and out of the steady music that filled Jack's apartment. They were guises of substance that Rhys was only barely aware of, mildly registering them only for the sake that they identified where Jack himself was. Gone. Absent. He'd left Rhys there, just as he always did. Retiring to wash like his time with Rhys had been the sort of thing you ought to purge yourself of after it was all said and done. Distantly, Rhys found a kind of humor in that. An irony that Jack should be the one to cleanse himself when it was Rhys who'd so shamelessly and reverently bore the brunt of his appetites. And now he wore it on his skin. It lay over his senses like a lukewarm haze. He was drunk off it. Basking in it. And there was shame in it. He'd learned to stop rationalizing how terribly he coveted this haze. It was in the blood he could taste on his mouth, clean and still fresh from the split in his lip, the way his breath still came slow and measured as to not disturb the new pattern of bruises that made up the column of his throat. It was a mix of those pains, the bruises and cuts that marked where Jack had been, all sharpened teeth and tearing fingers, and the brazen thrum of satisfaction still hot and pulsing under Rhys's skin and wet where it lined his own navel. His eyes were vacant, glazed over and half-lidded as he watched the blade of the fan spin overhead, the rotation too slow to provide any relief to the lingering heat that consumed him by the grace of a breeze. He should move. Clean himself up before Jack could return and chide him for playing corpse on his bed. His fingers twitched with the anticipatory gesture to sit up, and he felt a twinge of pain flare up in a dozen places; mocking his bruised wrists and the countless, countless crescents of teeth marks that had left his skin pinkened and raw. He groaned quietly, and the sound that escaped him was not altogether displeased. After all, he had wanted this. He had practically begged for it and given praise (in not so many words) each time he'd been broken. So Rhys sat up, breathing sharply as his body protested the motion and biting down another noise of mixed pain and contentment as he pulled himself together. There was a part of him, a small but stupidly loud part of him, that drew his gaze to the bathroom door, cracked and billowing steam into the room like some come hither motion. He pointedly did not go to it. What would Jack have thought of him, climbing into the shower to join him like some love drunk puppy? Probably the same thing he thought of him when Rhys, bloodied and bruised, still had the temerity to ask for more. Fucking pathetic. Rhys didn't even bother to reward himself with a hot shower. He left the water ice cold and frigid as he rinsed in the spare bath, wincing and hissing as the spray disturbed his too sensitive skin. It was a quick rinse. Just enough to make him not utterly disgusting but left him shivering as he tumbled back into bed, wearing nothing but a borrowed company sweater that contributed little warmth and barely did anything to hide the array of blemishes Jack had left on him as he burrowed himself under the thick blankets that threatened to drown him in the everything of Jack's scent.

#borderlands #rhack #meant to turn this into a fic and forgot about it #nsfw-ish #i mean it's def implied #drabble

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erinchu · 8 years ago

Note

Rhack: Jack climbs through Rhys' window at night during Finals because he's lonely and what's better than breaking and entering into your boyfriends room?

Oooh, I like this, thank you for the prompt, Nonny!

After Hours Study Session

It was the most stressful time of the year for most people. No, not the holidays. That was child’s play compared to Finals week for college kids. Every student was either collapsing into a pool of their own sweat and tears, or so jacked up on caffeine, their body didn’t even know what sleep was anymore. There was no in between.

Rhys was no exception to this rule, though after his latest final, he found he was able to squeeze one or two hours of sleep into his very busy schedule, sleep he was so looking for to. Usually with his free time, he would try and spend it with his boyfriend, Jack, but tonight he really needed his rest. Jack was lucky, his finals already over and done with way ahead of time because Jack was some sort of super genius. Now, Rhys wasn’t just a pretty face with no brains, he was quite brilliant, but not even he could get away with taking all of his finals months earlier than needed. There was just too much studying that needed to be done beforehand.

Knowing he needed at least a few hours of sleep, Rhys begrudgingly sent Jack a goodnight text and promptly passed the fuck out.

Across campus, a phone screen lit up, illuminating the dark dorm room Jack was in. With a feeling it might be from his Rhysie, he reached for it with haste expecting to read something along the lines of ‘come on over stud’. However when he realized it was a goodnight text, he furrowed his brows and read it over again a few times.

“What the hell…no way,” Jack growled out in annoyance and tossed his phone onto the bed somewhere, the device instantly disappearing beneath messy sheets. This was the third time Rhys hadn’t asked him to come over since finals started.

“Fucking finals week is ruining my sex life…” Jack muttered quietly to himself before chewing over his lower lip and letting out a series of huffy sighs. After a few short moments, an idea popped into Jack’s mind and his lips curved into a wicked grin. He didn’t have to keep Rhys up all night, just part of it. The older boy flew off of his bed, grabbed a jacket and b-lined towards the front door.

“God damn it…” Jack exclaimed as he stood outside of Rhys’ locked dorm housing. Each house on campus had their own set hours of when they were open to non-residents and other visitors. Rhys’ house happened to close balls early during finals it seemed and since Jack didn’t belong to this house, he didn’t have keys. Another annoyed sigh escaped him as he pulled out his phone and attempted to call Rhys. He would just have to come down and let him in. The line just kept ringing…and ringing and ringing. That damn kid slept like a rock! Jack’s heterochromatic eyes scanned the building as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Fine. He would just have to get creative and luckily, that was something he did very well. After a few laps around the building, he finally had mapped out his plan to get inside.

Rhys’ dorm room was on the fourth floor and as luck would have it, there was a large oak tree that stood tall enough for Jack to reach if he climbed. It seemed the universe wanted him to get laid as much as he did and set out a convenient ladder for him straight to his boyfriends window. Jack chuckled to himself as he began scaling the large tree. This must have been a sight to see and he was almost a little sad that Rhys was asleep and wouldn’t get to see his daring act of heroism.

“holyfuckingshitballs!” Jack blurted out as his left foot slipped from a branch and he nearly fell back to the ground. He clung tightly to the tree branch in front of him and caught his breath as he looked down. A audible gulp came from him as he swallowed hard and he shook his head a bit. He was definitely keeping Rhys up late after all of this.

The older boy had hit another stroke of luck when he finally reached up high enough. The dorms Rhys stayed in had small balconies attached to every room, big enough to store maybe a bike and hang your laundry to dry. He knew it would be unlocked and already open for two reasons. One, he knew from personal experience how hot it got in that room at night and Rhys liked a little breeze when he slept and two, Rhys would never think to lock it because honestly, who the hell was going to climb up and try to get in that way!?

With a not so graceful leap from the tree, Jack’s feet set down on the balcony and he quietly made his way into Rhys’ dorm room. It wasn’t a very big room at all but since it was just Rhys in it, it wasn’t so bad. A pleased grin pulled across Jack’s face as he saw his boyfriend, completely passed out sideways on his bed, the light from the TV flickering across the dark walls. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to take off his shoes before falling asleep. A small twinge of guilt passed over Jack as he contemplated just letting him rest…clearly he needed it.

“…Nah, I just scaled a tree. He can deal,” Jack whispered out with a devious laugh and slipped out of his jacket as he made his way over to the bed. Carefully, he sat down next to his sleeping boyfriend and began gently petting his hair. He was trying to rouse him from his slumber.

“Rhys…Rhyssiiiiee, wake up, pumpkin. Professor Lawrence is here to give you a little one on one late night study session.” Jack turned his head as he let out an abrupt laugh. Okay, maybe he was glad that Rhys was asleep and didn’t hear that. After a few moments with no response, he began ruffling the other boys hair and calling to him a bit louder.

Rhys groaned loudly and rolled away from the noise, his mech hand weakly attempting to slap away whatever was bothering him. Then, in a quick flash, Rhys sat up in a panic and began looking around.

“What?! What time is it? Did I sleep through my alarms, oh man…” Rhys whined softly and began looking around for his phone, sure that he wouldn’t have slept through ALL fifteen alarms he had set before bed. He was in such a disarray, he didn’t even notice it was still pitch black out.

“It’s like three in the morning pumpkin, calm down. You didn’t miss your finals. I do have a reason for you to be…up though,” Jack said casually with a twitch of his eyebrow and a sly smirk on his lips, trying to distract the other boy from the fact that he had woken him up from the sleep he so desperately needed. Rhys’ breathing calmed as he registered what his boyfriend had just said. Slowly, his panicked looked changed to utterly pissed off. He took a breath, ready to chew Jack out for waking him up but was cut off before he had the chance. This wasn’t the first time Jack had done this to him and he knew what was coming.

He caught the younger boy by the mouth and instantly pressed his weight down on top of him, forcing his back into the soft mattress. Rhys groaned against the kiss and tried to protest, pushing on Jack’s arms but it was no use. Besides, he didn’t really want him to stop. He eventually gave in and rolled his eyes before closing them and kissed his boyfriend back. Jack snickered against the kiss, knowing he had won and wrapped an arm around Rhys’ neck, pulling him up some and deepening their kiss. It both irritated and excited Rhys when he would act so cocky.

After a few moments of that, Rhys let out a groan and pulled from their kiss, giving Jack his best pouty look. He was so tired and knew he would be feeling this in the morning, but he was actually really happy Jack had come over. Not that Jack needed to know that.

“If I fail this final tomorrow, I am breaking up with you,” Rhys teased, flashing him a playful grin and quickly leaned up, kissing the older boys nose. Jack cackled and wrapped an arm around Rhys’ waist, pulling their bodies flush to one anothers.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Rhysie. I’ll give you a nice anatomy lesson tonight, so you’ll be all prepared.” Jack smirked and flashed his brows up and few times, earning himself an amused look from the other boy.

“Jack…you do know I’m not even a physiology major, right?” Rhys bit his lower lip and began laughing as he watched Jack roll his eyes and let out a pained groan.

“Rhys, be quiet and study my face with yours tonight, okay?!” Jack barked out in a commanding tone and pulled him in once again. Rhys closed his eyes and smiled against their kiss, doing as he was told. That was one study session he would gladly stay up for.

#i did the thing #bleh #this took so long because i just have zero energy #for reals #rhack #rhack drabble #rhack one shot #tftbl #rhys the company man #handsome jack #erinchu writes #anon prompt

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matsoukun · 8 years ago

Text

SugarBaby!Rhys Drabble

for my lovely little brother @madebynerdsfornerds (happy belated bday, reed!) - "Yvette! Goddamn it, help me! Stop it! Look at me! What the hell do I wear?" Rhys was yelling a this point, ready to rip his hair out at the lack of attention he was receiving from his friends in a time of need, unfortunately for Rhys, his plea's were falling on deaf ears. "I need to look cute, but like, sexy. You know what I mean? Please help, please." Rhys' voice is full of frustration and exasperation as he begs Yvette to get on with it and stop raiding his goddamn pantry for a 'light snack' and fucking help him get ready for Jack, it was Jacks birthday, and Rhys wanted to dress up (or dress down, rather) for him. "So you mean, like a sugar baby? Let me take a look at your wardrobe-" Yvette teases as she saunters her way away from the kitchen, through the foyer and into Rhys' and Jack's outrageously large bedroom with a pre-made tomato sandwich in hand, Vaughn timidly following suit, still slightly afraid that Jack had booby-trapped the place. "Jesus Christ, Rhys. This is not a wardrobe, this is literally bigger than my apartment, Rhys- fucking hell, why the hell did he get you a wardrobe this big? What the fuck, I actually feel oppressed." Rhys hears the sandwich flop onto the ground and groans externally, knowing that Yvette has already made a mess even though she's only been in the room for 0.2 seconds. "Perks of having a sugar daddy, I guess." He winks jokingly after giving Yvette an annoyed look, feigning any real anger toward his friend. "Not the point anyway, Jacks going to be home any minute and I need to be looking fine as hell. And you guys-" Rhys gestures between the two of them "Can not be here." Vaughn clears his throat as Rhys finishes his sentence, signalling that he had finally found something worth wearing for Rhys from where he had been silently rummaging for the past minute. "Bro, you should totally wear these, like- I'm not gay, but if I saw a dude wearing these I would tap the fuck outta that." He shifts awkwardly before going in for his ultra hetero slogan. "Not in a gay way, though." There it is. Rhys grabs the garment from Vaughn's hands, inspecting the black lacy material between his fingers. It's lingerie, extremely fancy lingerie in fact, the kind that only higher ups, Handsome Jack, for example, could afford. It was a set of dark opaque pantyhose that ended mid-thigh, the hem being thinly woven lace attached to a set of straps on each leg that led up to a sleek pair of matching black high-waisted panties. A sly smile danced over Rhys' face, he enjoyed looking at the lingerie, and knew that Jack would enjoy looking at him in the lingerie even more. "Huh, I like the tethers. Nice, yeah, guess I'll put these on." Rhys shrugs nonchalantly, trying to hide his embarrassingly growing excitement (and slight arousal) from his friends. Seconds later Vaughn is covering his ears and Rhys is jumping back in surprise at the sound of Yvette's high pitched squealing. "Oh. My. God. Rhys! You're wearing this!" Rhys stares at the accessory, sneering at Yvette for bursting his eardrums. "Why? Isn't that a choker- oh, that's a pretty huge bow on it, wait, is that a pun? As in like, I'm his present and he gets to unwrap me?" Rhys takes the lacy choker from her hands, a thick black bow being the centrepiece with detailed lacy embroidery travelling the length of it. "Hell to the yes it is, Rhysie." Rhys face palms, chuckling a little at Yvette's idea, as if Rhys is some kind of endowed object. The pair stop their chatting to hear Vaughn dry heave in the corner, disgusted in the two of them. Talking about inherently sexual things, more specifically sexual things to do with his best bro, seemed to cause Vaughn to do that. "Ugh, I'm kinkshaming." - Rhys is standing in the kitchen, adjusting the lingerie and awkwardly tightening the choker when he hears the familiar click and slide of the double doors being opened by none other than Jack. "Hey pumpkin, you home?" Shit. Rhys freezes and stands up straight immediately, suddenly regretting his fashion choices. What if Jack didn't get it? Or he laughed at him? Rhys' mind begins to fill with embarrassing, life-ruining scenarios that have absolutely zero chance of happening. Rhys clears his throat hurriedly when he realises he hasn't replied to his boyfriend. "I'm in the kitchen!" Rhys coughs, trying (and failing, miserably) to strike a sexy pose against the side of the bench, stopping when he begins to slip on the hard surface due to the sleekness of his garments. He instead opts to stand in the centre of the kitchen, pretending to be occupied by a stain on the bench. He picks at the hard, marble, expensive surface of the bench, his face turning pink as his insides burn. He hears Jacks footsteps padding toward Rhys' location, he looks up frantically when he sees Jack enter the kitchen, the idiot is too occupied by his damn ECHO and doesn't notice Rhys. "You won't believe what happened today!The ugly R&D worker I was telling you about? I airlocked him today and- oh. This is a nice surprise." Jack drops his phone in surprise, sure he'd seen Rhys in lingerie before, but he'd never looked this... Damn good, and all for him. "I know, right?" Rhys chuckles and looks away, flattered at how Jack is looking him up and down, savouring his uncommon look and taking him in. "You look... Delicious, to be honest." Jack slinks toward Rhys, slipping his arms around the younger mans waist, quickly squeezing his butt cheekily. "Just for your special day, finally 60!Happy birthday, Handsome." Rhys giggles in response to Jacks unimpressed face. "Hey! Shut up, I'm old but I'm not that old!" Rhys giggles and leans into Jack, his hands gently placed on either side of Jacks jaw, smiling goofily. "Make me." Rhys challenges Jack, moving their lighthearted joking to something much more serious and inviting. Jack slides his hand down to the hem of Rhys' panties, lightly brushing over the pristine silk and lace that Rhys wished Jack would rip off to take care of his increasingly uncomfortable, heated... Situation. "Oh? Like this?" Jack asks rhetorically, walking Rhys backwards so his lower back is harshly pressed against the bench. "Or like this?" He uses his other hand to slide up Rhys' naked blue inked torso and chest to grip Rhys' neck with just enough force to make Rhys weak at the knees, Jacks thumb pressed tightly to Rhys' jugular. Jack bites his lower lip as he moves his free hand to slip underneath the front of Rhys' panties, lightly stroking Rhys' growing erection. "Oh, pumpkin, already so hard for me? Look at you, such a mess." Rhys can only muster a strangled moan at this, his face covered in that ongoing pink flush Jack loves to humiliate Rhys about. "Rhysie, when I talk to you, you have to reply. You have to have manners." Jack tightens his grip on Rhys' neck, smiling devilishly. Rhys has completely given into submission by now, his face a mixture of pent up pleasure and pain, just what Jack wanted to see. "Mm, Y-yes." He whispers, his voice mixed in with a muffled moan. "Yes what?" Jack demands, raising an eyebrow expectantly, his grip tightening even more, his thumb pressed flush to Rhys' jugular, just how he liked it. "Yes daddy."

#rhack drabble #drabble #fic #rhack #rhys the company man #handsome jack #borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tftbl #rhack fic #love u reed #rhys would rock tf outta the sugar baby life tho

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