Sure, it wasn’t all bad. Speaking of, one of the few reasons why he even bothered showing up just walked in the door– LATE as usual. Sitting up a bit, he dug through his pack until he found the organized notebook he had dedicated to this very class, setting it on his desk before shoving his bag to the floor. Push up your glasses, look presentable. His thoughts started to get a bit louder as he looked at his friend, which didn’t do wonders to his notes screaming to be taken. The teacher seemed too occupied with one of the rowdier of the students taking this to graduate that she didn’t really seem to care, but HE DID.
“Hey,” A little louder than a whisper, he sat up more in his seat resting his face on his fist as he clicked the pen in his hand. You look dumb, stop that! Complying with the critic in his head, he ceased the smile, the pose, the genuine expression, and opened his notebook, titling it with the current unit and section and surrounding his writing in a little cloud, as he always did. Later on, when he got bored, he knew he’d be sitting there, lining the edges of his pages with little hearts, stars, fish– Whatever he FELT LIKE. He knew he could be himself around Rhys, just not HERE.
there’s a certain type of hatred that rhys harbors for the way that all of vaughn’s comfort vanishes in the blink of an eye -- - there, and GONE again. flipping open his notebook to start scribbling down the problems is an afterthought to watching the way vaughn wilts in on himself, and from the corner of his eyes rhys cuts him a LOOK that seems to go perfectly amiss. the boy is just biding his TIME for their teacher to tell them to pair up to work on the math together, and as soon as she does, rhys is swinging his legs out into the aisle and facing his BESTEST BRO with his whole body.
“You’re coming to the meet tonight, right? And then back to my place?” rhys doesn’t need to pretend that they’re talking about the assignment when literally EVERYONE in the class ( teacher included ) knows that BOTH of them have already solved over half of the equations already. finance is easy, and rhys only just BARELY cares about annuities and growth rates and leverage ratios, just enough for someone who plans on hiring someone to do all of that FOR him someday. a gentle tap at vaughn’s ankle with his sneaker, rhys is right back to grinning. “We can listen to that podcast you really like, or play Call of Duty. I’ll get my mom to make us something for dinner, too, so you won’t even have to eat the stuff they sell at the concession stand.”
@cybernetiked || slides this juicy content under your door… ;
To put it as short as possibly… Possible, school SUCKED. Surrounded by hundreds of other moody, stressed out, most likely horny, teenagers felt like some sort of cruel zoo. Every mirror felt like a two way mirror and every corner felt like the most dangerous one yet. Dumping his bag onto the desk of his assigned seat in his FAVORITE class, financial algebra, Vaughn quickly sunk into the plastic and metal chair, hands quickly stuffing into the kangaroo pouch of his favorite hoodie; the one he got for participating in the school’s band program.
The very definition of the stereotype of ‘nerd’, he felt at ease with this. That is, until the various breeds of mouth-breathing goons around him decided this label was his WEAKNESS. Averting his eyes from all that entered the room, he hoped it was enough to stop the barrage of teasing.
rhys still doesn’t quite get it -- - the HIERARCHY of high school, treated as if it actually matters or holds any importance outside of the four walls boxing them in to their eight hour PRISON. they’re SENIORS now, and things are much the same as seventeen and eighteen year olds as they had been at FOURTEEN. all of it’s so, so silly... or maybe it’s just silly to HIM because he’s never been at the bottom of the food chain. track star, president of the FBLA, head chair of the student council, and all-around a well-loved entity, rhys is, as the kids say, MR. POPULAR.
for him, the brand is less a blessing, and more of a CURSE. there’s only one person who he gets to truly be himself around, and that’s VAUGHN. who has himself smushed back against his shitty plastic seat in one of their only two shared classes, the one rhys is always late to, because his class BEFORE this one is on the other side of the building, and people are ALWAYS stopping him in the halls to try and talk. they never seem to understand that he actually cares about school, about grades, about excelling. vaughn, though? vaughn gets it.
“Hey, man.” the greeting is imparted with a wide, toothy grin as rhys COLLAPSES into his chair just as their teacher starts putting problems up on the smart board. no one is bothering vaughn right now, but rhys knows for a FACT that it’s only because he’s around. vaughn is his best friend, and no one understands why, but the way vaughn’s whole face lights up when rhys walks into the room is the only explanation rhys is EVER going to need for himself. and the warmth that spreads in his chest when vaughn grins back is all HIS little prize.
she’s ACCUSTOMED to the bitter taste of blood pervading within her mouth , the inside of her cheeks raw && tender from being bitten down upon with excessive force. in a sense , she’s fortunate that she hasn’t had an encounter with hugo vasquez — until this particular instance which has supposedly decided to COMPENSATE for such a fact. it was no secret that the self proclaimed senior vice president of securities propaganda enjoyed asserting the authority that he held so comfortably within the palm of his hand , usually via the means of his brainless lackeys. && this time , it had been her within the firing line. ❛ couple of vasquez’s guys , i’ve seen them around before — bastards managed to corner me in the utility closet. probably heard me expressing my DISLIKE of the guy himself , the one that writes their pay checks. ❜ it’s a feeble attempt at humour , but an attempt nonetheless , hues leisurely closing as she allows him to continue his administration of the first aid. of course , no-one would have to query her injuries once the palette of violet && black became more prominent upon her features , a PHYSICAL indication that hyperion was at vasquez’s beck && call. they were his toys to play with. ❛ i just hope you’re having a better day than i am. ❜
rhys would like to say that he’s shocked it’s come to THIS -- - but it’s hyperion, and he’s not. innately angered and burning with the desire to kick the asses of EVERYONE involved, ASSQUEZ included, but not shocked. claire’s lip is a mess, her entire FACE is a mess, making it more impossible to crack a smile at her attempt of humor, but the cyborg doesn’t think she’s going to need any type of stitches. a damn good thing, too ;; rhys isn’t the most steady with a needle.
he finishes cleaning up the bloodiest parts of her face with a towelette, tosses it onto the counter and rakes a hand through his hair as he admires his ‘ HANDIWORK. ‘ that face of sharp lines and rigid strength has DEFINITELY seen better days, but she looks better than she had when she’d walked in. “Seriously, we’re beating up women now just because they don’t like our boss ?? I’ll be sure to file that under THING I’M NEVER GOING TO DO, because I’m not a fucking ANIMAL.” the first-aid kit is SLAMMED shut, plastic biting into plastic, all of the contents within it rattling around.
rounding the counter, rhys steps into the kitchen proper to pick a glass out of the dish drainer, filling it with filtered tap water and placing it ( a little too ROUGHLY ) on the counter in front of claire. his organic hand trembles, fury plagued and damned. “My day was fine until one of my only friends walked into my apartment post getting jumped.” a deep breath, a heavy exhale. RARELY is rhys wrought with this sort of FUMING, overpowering anger, but right now? he could RIP SOMEONE TO SHREDS.
( must be the hyperion air finally GETTING to him. )
❝ for the date, do you have any… tighter jeans~? ❞
❝ those ripped jeans are just a tease… i want to tear them apart. ❞
❝ you know i love to hold your hand, but today you just look too good from behind. ❞
❝ come on and dance with me~ if you can move in those pants, that’s it? ❞
❝ let’s not… take of our clothes just yet… this is just too hot. ❞
❝ oh lord, i just can’t stop staring at that piercing… ❞
❝ ahah… p… please be nice to me… my asthma might kill me otherwise~ ❞
❝ no, don’t sit… i’ll go down on my knees. ❞
❝ woah… don’t you have an early morning tomorrow? ❞
❝ i don’t care for being bullied in bed, so you should just stop. ❞
❝ you don’t think sweatpants are hot? i mean… these are an expensive brand? ❞
❝ there’s nothing dangerous with a little party make-out, right? ❞
❝ candles? nah, that’s a fire hazard. i can set the mood very well without it. ❞
❝ there’s just something so extremely irresistible about a uniform… ❞
❝ let me smudge my lipstick in all sorts of places, hm? ❞
❝ that paperwork seems awfully boring… wouldn’t i look better on your desk? ❞
❝ my paperwork is killing me… i’m just imagining you laying on the desk instead. ❞
❝ victoria’s secret? don’t tell me it’s a bag of perfume now~ ❞
❝ fuck… you can step on me in those heels. ❞
❝ i know i slept with a lot of people, but… it wasn’t making love. ❞
❝ i’ll be your type, if you would only tell me what it is. ❞
❝ i’m not sure if i’m comfortable being someone’s first time… ❞
❝ you should keep the boots on~ ❞
❝ these underwear are so… smooth… ❞
❝ oh…~ i didn’t expect you to shave all the way. ❞
❝ i’m not sure if i can… do that… i’m scared i’ll hurt you… ❞
❝ i know you like it, but i’m not… comfortable… ❞
❝ is that… lace i see? ❞
❝ why from behind? well… i like the thought of showing off what i got. ❞
❝ oh my god… here? really? are you sure? ❞
❝ do you think i could… put my fingers in your mouth? ❞
❝ ahaha… want to make me sweat right after i showered? ❞
❝ the sweater… do you have anything under? ❞
❝ anything you want to do, before i get dressed? ❞
❝ wow… aren’t you even going to touch the food first? ❞
❝ i put this on, thinking… dessert? ❞
❝ i… put on a little weight, but… it’s okay, right? ❞
❝ what’s with the layers? playing hard to get~? ❞
❝ come here… warm your hands. ❞
❝ my marks suit you. ❞
❝ holy shit… i love stockings. ❞
❝ if i break them with my teeth… will you hate me? ❞
❝ i really… want everyone to know i’m yours. ❞
❝ i like my reflection a little more with you all over me. ❞
❝ a—ah! a bite?! ❞
❝ the more the merrier, don’t you think? ❞
❝ i got a new apartment, and i need someone to put clothes on the floor. ❞
❝ let’s climb into the backseat… ❞
❝ oh, look! my hand fits perfectly in your back pocket! ❞
❝ look at the mirror… don’t you look cute? i know you do… ❞
She doesn’t like that she has to doubt EVERYTHING , that she can’t just accept something at face value without waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pandora bore pessimists —- WARY , mistrustful , hardened people that all registered somewhere on the CRAZY SCALE. And it’s taken so much more than it’s ever given back ; her parents , her childhood , her … whatever Felix was. And even the GOOD THINGS can’t always be trusted , Felix was good for them for fifteen years before he stuck a knife in her gut and twisted.
RHYS IS GOOD , GREAT , THE BEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO HER —- well, other than being blessed with a big sister that would literally fight the sun for her , emerald hues briefly scan the photos he’s slid in her direction before she sets all of it aside , freeing her up to crawl over and situate herself in his lap. ‘ Are you crazy ?? Of course I wanna go !! If it wasn’t already totally obvious , getting the hell off of Pandora has always been a DREAM of mine and I —- I just … I can’t believe you’d do that for me. Actually , I can but still I never … I never thought it’d really HAPPEN … ’ she’s rambling , not sure if she’s even making sense but it’s overwhelming , a lot to wrap her head around.
it doesn’t take long for things to go more the way that rhys had initially INTENDED them to -- - sasha’s face alight with EXCITEMENT, words a joyous noise as she agrees to his plans. of course, he hadn’t anticipated her crawling into his LAP, but he sure isn’t complaining. rhys BEAMS at her, freeing up his hands to place them around her waist. her rambling -- - GOD it’s so CUTE. there are all kinds of emotions bouncing around in his chest, a CACOPHONY of muddled feelings, and it’s like being caught adrift at sea whenever she’s around.
he leans in to bump their noses together, THRIVING off the happiness she’s exuding. he loves seeing her this ELATED, that genuine, unadulterated GLEE written all over her expression, in all of her body language. “If it means seeing you this happy, Sasha, we can take an interplanetary vacation once a month.”
there is something truly LIBERATING in being the type of man that can actually give that to her. the money, the clout, rhys has it ALL now. and by default, so does she. eventually, she’ll get with the program -- - and then he’ll REALLY have to start spoiling her. he’s so EXCITED.
“I’m sure you’ll love Eden-5. I haven’t been to the exact area that we’re going to, but some of the establishments nearby it are just INCREDIBLE. You could never see stuff like it down here -- which is what I’d like to maybe change about Pandora someday.” a hand lifts to tuck hair behind sasha’s ear, fingers tracing the shell GENTLY as he smiles at her, adoration in every inch of it. “Gotta make it a place worthy of YOU.”
@heathiins asked mistletoe ; tag your shipping partners <3 or talk about a ship/ships you love
@cybernetiked !! you are literally the only rhys I’ve ever written romantic stuff with in over a year of writing sasha and I wouldn’t have it any other way !! I think I was waiting for yours to come around , honestly. We clicked so effortlessly that it just happened so naturally and I love every single response you throw my way. Your rhys is so good , I weep. You absolutely nail his personality / characterization while adding your own unique aspects to him and that’s Truly Admirable Not to mention that you’re such a sweetheart , I love chatting with you ooc and yelling about our kiddos and all that fun stuff. I am so grateful to have you as my friend and writing partner , ily lots !!
She bites back a laugh , amused at the way his eyes widen —- it’s Pandora !! Did he really expect it to be called something NICE ?? But the SENTIMENT was there , oddly enough , hadn’t been twisted into something completely unrecognizable. There just was a lot more STEALING involved.
But it’s his next words that cause her hands to stall entirely , amusement sliding from her features as she fixes him with a blank stare. Because those words in that configuration don’t make sense and she’s been LET DOWN before. Getting off of Pandora even temporarily has always been this CRAZY , UNATTAINABLE DREAM of hers , she’s lied and scammed and screwed people over just to have a shot at what Rhys was now offering and , well —- she doesn’t know how to handle it.
‘ I —- run that by me again ?? ’ she blinks , fingers of her dominate hand move away from the task at hand in favor of fiddling with one of her earrings.
THAT’S. really not the reaction he was expecting ?? but maybe he SHOULD be expecting it. it’s just that... it always makes him so sad when she does this. when she acts like every GOOD THING he wants to give her, to do for her, is some sick joke. the way sasha’s face FALLS breaks rhys’ heart. it’s not that he thinks she needs CONVINCING, now, but rhys still shuffles the piles of papers off to the side to slide over the scenic pictures of eden-5, SPECIFICALLY where he’s wanting to take her.
“It’s -- - I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I thought it’d be nice for us, since this is our first Christmas slash Mercenary Day together. Christmas has always been really important to me.” his smile gentles, memories of his childhood, memories of a FAMILY that doesn’t EXIST anymore. sasha has her demons, and rhys has his. he just doesn’t enjoy TALKING about it. about them. “Me, my mom, and my dad used to decorate the whole house the day after Thanksgiving, and even when I lived with Vaughn on Helios we went all out. I rented us a cabin on Eden-5. Two weeks. If you want to go.”
it feels so good to be centered in and on and around timothy for the time that he’s allowed -- - hollowed out cheeks to match the hollowed out holes in his heart. rhys is no blushing virgin ;; even before JACK, there had been others, and he’s well versed in the means of achieving an end when it comes to giving head. which is why he DOESN’T UNDERSTAND why timothy stops him, not after the praise he’s doling out. rhys LIKES sucking cock, the weight of it in his mouth, the taste of it, and timothy tastes DIVINE, and he WHINES when timothy hauls him up. it turns SHARP and reedy as timothy kisses him, so filthy, as teeth sink into his neck, the room shrinking down to the two of them and nothing more.
there is softness, oblique and sudden, but then it vanishes in the blink of an eye as timothy turns vicious against him. SUCKING and BITING and making rhys WRITHE, bearing down to seek out whatever friction he can find. there’s a heavy, MAGNETIC feeling in his gut that draws him into timothy, hands clutching at his shirt in actions that mirror his ones from earlier, much more desperate now, however. so perfect for ME, timothy says, and rhys is nodding blindly, eyes shut tight, mouth whispering litanies of yes, yes, yes,
timothy’s hand touches him where he needs it, but it’s not enough, not through all of the fabric, and his eyes are wet, because he wants SO MUCH MORE, except then tim is giving it to him. tearing his pants open, the button FLYING off ( he can be mad later, because these were expensive pants, but the payoff will be worthwhile ), and rhys is all but S C R E A M I N G when timothy sets his hand to the heat between his legs. his head falls uselessly forward, thumping onto timothy’s shoulder as timothy takes him apart. at first, rhys thinks he can retain some of his dignity, timothy’s just TEASING -- - and then the teasing stops. turns into outright dismantling.
“T-Timothy-- -” rhys sucks in a heady breath, incapable of filling his lungs up all the way. it all comes moaning out of him in the next instant, at the words, at the RUTHLESS, VICIOUS way timothy treats him. his legs are trembling so badly that rhys is having an extremely difficult time keeping himself held upright, the world spinning around him at the assault. his fingers open and clench back down, head tossing back and jaw practically unhinging on a shout as timothy FORCES his fingers back in. regardless of how soaking rhys is, the burn is still so, so good, and timothy touches something inside of him that has rhys clamping down on his fingers. keeps touching it, keeps JABBING against it.
rhys is shaking his head almost violently in manner, panting, chest noticeably HEAVING, eyes teary-wide and WILD as he shakes, trembles, lurches forward and shoots a hand down to YANK at tim’s wrist, to WRENCH him away just in time for rhys to ruin his own underwear, his own trousers, as he drenches them. it’s been a VERY long time since someone made him SQUIRT, and he’s almost impressed. or he would be, if his mind hadn’t gone to absolute mush, tears streaming down his face.
the worst part is that it’s -- - not a real orgasm, so rhys still wants more, but he’s also kind of embarrassed as he stares down at the MESS he’s made of himself and, partly, the mess he’s made on timothy’s legs. tim’s thighs are damp, and his wrist is more than, and despite the fact that rhys is still shaking with the aftereffects he’s leaning back in for another filthy, open-mouthed kiss. all tongues brushing together and rhys worming one hand into timothy’s hair, the other dropping into timothy’s lap to tug at his cock some more. just a few quick, uneven strokes.
“Jack never made me do that.” rhys admits coyly, pressing his smirk into timothy’s mouth, panting into him and drinking in his breath in return, hand slowing down, speeding up, never settling on one specific rhythm. he needs to get out of his pants. he needs timothy INSIDE of him, needs an ACTUAL orgasm, needs all that timothy is willing to give him. the room is cold yet hot, a mix of juxtapositions as rhys pries himself away from timothy to finish getting his pants off. forget the shirt, that’s not important ;; what rhys wants, what he NEEDS, more than anything, is for timothy to get his dick inside of him as quickly as possible. rhys backs himself up and pulls himself onto the desk, using the edge as leverage. papers go flying off -- -
but they don’t matter. those are forms from when ASSQUEZ thought he had a PLACE, and now that he knows he doesn’t, now that it’s timothy and rhys, those old deals don’t mean shit. they’ll fill out their OWN paperwork.
the spread of rhys’ legs is bold, RECKLESSLY uninhibited, everything on full display. you’re playing with fire, rhys. that’s what everyone had said when he’d gotten involved with jack, when he’d painted a big target on his back, and then made it BIGGER by shoving jack into his head posthumously. but no. he’d never been playing with fire. he’d been sitting in a tub of ICE, skin turned blue with cold and bruises. this ?? THIS is fire. jack was cold, cold, cold, a tundra of explosive, volatile EVIL. timothy is the kindling of a fire, warm and warmer by the day, and tonight he’s burning red hot, and rhys leans back on the desk, hands supporting him as he makes blatant FUCK ME eyes at the man himself, tongue searing a slow trail along his lips.
“You’re good with your hands. Care to show me what ELSE you’re good with?”
“Look, bro, I know you’re a total badass now, but no one is too much of a badass to marathon animated Christmas movies, so if you deny me this tradition, I will be forced to never forgive you. Do not make me end our eternal friendship over a lack of Christmas movies, Vaughn. I have a TV, and a movie collection, and they need to be attended to. Stat.”
i imagine atlas dealing in a lot of different things, but a lot of it is definitely in arms. it’s fucking... pandora, and the universe in borderlands period, which is obsessed with weaponry and shit like that. so they manufacture guns, but they also buy and sell property for profit, and make investments on other planets, and make tons of other things to be bought and sold.
like, you name it, atlas probably makes it, or does it.
ellievsbear
dailybridgerton
tangentwithtanner
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