#robin x jade

[ohmeadows]

RobinJade+9

robin/jade, a kiss in public.

//

Robin knows the instant she steps on stage if Jade is up in the box seats without even looking, the weight of Jade's gaze an ache in her chest.

She's been finding time to attend concerts in her busy schedule, the promise of "keeping an eye on her investment" hanging heavy in Robin's mind. Yet she never comes around backstage, and she never stays through the encore. Alone in the dressing room, Robin knows she could pick out any eager fan and have adoration welling over, but she doesn't want that. It'd be hollow compared to who she truly wants.

And tonight, there Jade is again, her gaze carrying a different weight when it falls on Robin's skin, goosebumps prickling across her shoulders.

It comes to her, bright and perfect, and halfway through her current chart-topping song, Robin lets her voice control slip intentionally.

Not enough to destroy the concert, but enough that a ripple passes through the audience, smiles frozen, grimaces fluttering past. The horror of it is electrifying. She could ruin everything about herself in this moment, rip apart her entire future — she dangles it in her hands, eyes locked on Jade. Do you care about your investment? Do you care about this future of mine? Will you stop me if I try to set it ablaze?

By the time she gets to the encore, Jade is still there, her severe gaze sending a thrill through Robin's core. She strains her voice in the encore, feeling the crack shattering in her throat, and smiles in a daze at the audience.

After she steps off the stage, she's whisked away to the VIP lounge. It's the part of her nights she likes the least, but her vocal coach did not miss the strain and shoves a cup of warm tea in her hands, strictly forbidding her from any champagne tonight.

"Your performance tonight was lacking," Jade's familiar voice whispers in her ear, brushing back a strand of hair behind her wings.

"My mind wandered," Robin says airily. She keeps her voice low, and as she sips the honeyed tea she feels a shivering thread of excitement strung between her ribs, making it harder to breathe in deep. It's the first time she has intentionally provoked Jade and she's eager to see what it yields.

"To what, I wonder."

"Investments," Robin replies, jutting her chin out defiantly even as she keeps her tone sweet. "I cannot help but worry that some of them have been neglected."

"Is that so?" Jade's lips curl up in amusement. "And what is it they want?"

"Attention." Robin's voice is crystal clear and strong. Jade notices, of course. She never lets anything slip past.

Grabbing her by the elbow, Jade holds her close, leaning down to whisper in Robin's ear. "Greedy, miss Robin. Perhaps I will have to make sure you have some training to sing without losing focus. We are staying at the same hotel, after all."

Robin's breath catches, and before she has time to quip anything back Jade has slid her hand down to her wrist, bringing Robin's hand up to her mouth and giving her a kiss on the back of her hand. The look in her eyes is as indecipherable as it is rife with promise.

"I look forward to resolving your problems," Jade says, smiling at her as she takes a step back, letting Robin return to enduring the dreary mingling.

For the rest of the night, she keeps gently touching the spot with her fingertips, feeling the heated imprint on her skin, a shiver running through her each time.

[jadewritesficshere]

Steddie soulmate AU where Eddie is a famous musician, everyone assumes he doesn't have a soulmate. Eddie was just smart and doesn't confirm, doesn't want to go through rabid fans who claim to be his soulmate. He's had too many show up wearing his initials they tattooed on themselves even before he was asked about soulmates in an interview.

Enter Steve Harrington who works as a nurse. Just casually on his third nightshift in a row in the ER. Sipping some coffee trying not to fall asleep when they get the call about some confidential patient coming in.

Eddie comes in for some injury. Steve has 0 clue who he is, just says "You look familiar, did we go to school together?" And Eddie practically falls off the stretcher at Steve's feet. Goes all googoo eyes at him. Steve being mildly concerned because Eddie's heart rate keeps skyrocketing (its because Steve is touching him).

One of the other nurses can't help but try and get the gossip from Steve, who is very much confused as to why she cares about this random patient. She tells Steve who Eddie is, and he's just like ???? Okay???

Steve doesn't admit it but the picture she shows is HOT. It's Eddie, flipping off the camera, tongue out. He's covered in tattoos, including the word 'sorry' written in a weird script on his middle finger. He's shirtless and his pants are so low that Steve can see the dip of his hips creating a v and-

Steve has to walk into the supply room to get himself under control. Pretends it doesn't mean anything and goes back to his job as his heart thuds rapidly in his chest.

Eddie tries not to pass out when they draw his blood, Steve holds his hand. It feels right. Eddie can't help wanting to ask," Hey, do you have a soulmate?" But he hates being asked that question, so he won't.

Until Steve bends over, his scrub top lifting up slightly. Eddie can't help glancing at his ass, but then he can't breathe. Because on his lower back is the initials EJM.

"Steve G. H?" Eddie asks as his voice goes up an octave. Steve turns, bewildered ," How did you-?" "Edward James Munson." Eddie whispers.

Oh

[chiara-hotel]

Your path based on your s/o (Gameplay)

This is all for fun and what I think, don’t take it as complete canon

Various Characters

Abudance! You’re a healer who either heals your reckless s/o or helps them out whenever you’re injured. They enjoy having you by their side and are thankful for your healing abilities!

Characters: Jade, Acheron, Aventurine, Blade, Jingliu, Kafka, Jing Yuan, Natasha, Gallagher, Misha, Jiaoqiu, Moze, Feixiao & Sunday

Preservation! You assist them in combat by shielding them from potential danger that could injure them. Neither of you need a healer with yourself on the team!

Characters: Black Swan, Acheron, Argenti, Firefly, Sampo, Sparkle, Welt, Feixiao

Nihility! You both provide damage as they attack, you both fit each other’s combat styles and work as a great team. That or you work with them with your different styles to defeat your enemies.

Characters: Kafka, Silver Wolf, Black Swan, Pela & Welt

Harmony! You assist your s/o and their coworkers with your abilities. They love how your abilities aid them in combat. Most of the time they deal the main dmg and you assist them with their missions.

Characters: Jade, Firefly, Silver Wolf, Seele, Topaz, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Boothill

Erudition! You aid them by being able to do large AoE damage. Depending on the situation you are able to do the most damage to complete your mission.

Characters: Argenti, Boothill, Bronya, Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Robin, Ruan Mei & Sparkle

The Hunt! You deal single target dmg and work great against boss enemies. Your skills match well with that of your s/o.

Characters: Dr Ratio, Topaz, Aventurine, Fu Xuan, Silver Wolf, Sparkle, Bronya, Seele, Sunday, Blade, Jiaoqiu & Moze

[ruciel]

For the request can I please have Yandere Topaz, Himeko, Robin, and Jade comforting reader who has nightmare

yandere topaz is somewhat of a heavy sleeper, she works long hours, and rests for very few. but her fifth senses wake her, red alarm bells going off, her first instinct is to feel around for you in the bed. thankfully, you’re still there. but you’re quivering like a leaf. topaz feels around for you, but you don’t respond, completely still and completely silent. what’s wrong? are you okay? you’re hesitant to respond, only quietly murmuring that you had a nightmare. you come off as unbothered but topaz is unconvinced. she wraps her arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for a tight hug, patting your head gently. she’s worried for you, but doesn’t wish to pressure you into saying anything, only offering words of reassurance, i’m here to listen if you’d like. if you don’t say anything that’s fine, she’s holding you too tight to leave her grasp anyway. but if you do tell her, even if it’s just a little about the horrible dream, topaz will be happy you opened up to her. she doesn’t want to be overbearing, nor does she want to overwhelm you. it seems her pets have also sensed your distress, as you feel more and more weight get added to the already over-cushioned bed. they cuddle you, similarly like how they do with topaz, and you can’t help but reach out to feel their fur and pet them. it distracts you. you’re surprised topaz hadn’t pressed further, but realistically, you know she’s very self-aware of when to stop prying and being invasive. her presence alone is very comforting, and it even brings a smile to your face when you feel her hand find yours and give it a small squeeze.

yandere himeko stays up far later than you do. she likes to take time to unwind and relax in the evening. what better way to do that than settle in bed and read while you sleep beside her? himeko’s dim lamplight is on, and she skims the novel in her right hand as she lazily runs her hands through your hair with her left hand. a faint, almost soundless, noise comes from you. she thinks nothing of it until it happens again, this time, you twitch. her eyes drift to your figure, setting her book down, not caring if she loses her place as you stir even more. himeko places a tender hand on your shoulder, shaking you. she frowns after seeing tears already beginning to form in your closed eyes, this time, she calls your name. slowly, you wake up, eyes bleary as you avert your eyes from the light coming from the bedside table. you open your mouth to say something, but she softly shushes you, shh, it’s alright dear. she wipes your tears away, holding the side of your face, all the while she assures you that it was just a dream. that no one, and nothing, will ever come to harm you— that she will make sure of. himeko places a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead. you’re still shaken up, and she offers to brew you a cup of coffee. it will keep you up for awhile, but it may take your mind off things for now… if you agree, she’ll invite you into the kitchenette of the express. himeko will tell you all about the book she’s been reading over a nice cup of coffee. if you disagree, she’ll lay in bed with you for little longer. himeko will let you cry in her arms if you need to, patient as ever, you’ll likely open up to her about the nightmare, and she’ll soothe your nerves while she kisses you more.

yandere robin is very careful with you when you sleep. she spends quite a bit of time outside of the dreamscape, but you do not because you are safe and often enjoy passing time there while waiting for robin to return to penacony. for whatever reason, you seem to always have nightmares after leaving the dreamscape. she’s made her bed especially tailored to your liking, the mattress is the right amount of firm while also being comfortable. it has as many pillows as you want, varying in size, and made with your wants in mind. and the sheets and blankets are a colour chosen by none other than yourself, there are enough he to keep you happy, but not too much that they’re too heavy on you when you sleep. but robin still frets over you when you’re laying down in her bed, trying to get some sleep, and tonight is no different. as she gets into her night attire, she can’t help but noticing you squirm around under the blankets. hurriedly, yet quietly, she makes her way to the side of the bed, sitting down and leaning over your unconscious figure. robin doesn’t want to disturb you, she doesn’t like waking you up because she knows how important rest is. so she sings, chanting a sweet lullaby that she remembers fondly from her childhood. the hymn reaches you, even in your deep sleep. robin observes as your once uncomfortable expression turns calm. she wonders what you’re dreaming of now. what you see when she sings to you in your sleep. robin’s tune fades into quiet humming, and she manoeuvres under the covers to join you. she never does stop singing to you, even if it’s only a mere whisper now. robin won’t bother you about it in the morning, unless you bring it up. even if you do not know it, she still wishes to protect you in your sleep.

yandere jade recognises the sounds of your silent cries and whimpers from anywhere. even if she’s in a deep slumber, jade simply knows when you are so much as slightly unhappy. lifting the sleeping mask off of her eyes, she tilts her head and gets a good look at you. you’re shaken up, she can tell that much in her groggy state. although you don’t make your anxieties known, you’re curled up into yourself, pulled away from her with a distant look on your face. her voice startles you when she suddenly speaks up, you had thought she was still asleep, what’s wrong darling? bad dream? hesitantly nodding, she whispers a few apologies as she leans over to you and pulls you closer to her. you allow her to do as she pleases, sitting upright as she positions you to lean back against her. i have you, you’re okay. focus on your breathing. you do, calming yourself and trying to steady your breaths. what you remember from the nightmare repeats endlessly in your mind, and jade can still sense your discomfort. she asks if you want or need anything, maybe some water? it wouldn’t hurt, and though she’s displeased to be away from you, even for such a short while, jade fetches a glass of water for you, and even some snacks. by now, the two of you are well awake. you’re sorry to have woken her, but jade dismisses it. if you’re ever struggling with anything she wants you to come to her. eventually you tell her about the nightmare, she listens intently and occasionally holds your hand or rubs your arm. by the time you’re finished, you’re fatigued and become drowsy, but still apprehensive about falling back asleep. jade assures you that you will be okay, saying she’ll go back to sleep with you. but she lies, she doesn’t. jade waits for you to fall back asleep, she’s not tired anymore, and will make sure you aren’t plagued by any terrible dreams this time.

[skierisa]

with or without spider lilies?

[empress-ruby]

Does anyone know when we will get the beta leaks for Firefly and Jade? I kinda wanna pull for robin because of Sunday (sibling duo frfr) I also want Topaz and Jade for my IPC team 😞 and I only have like 40 jades and 60 pity gahhh I don't know what to do 😭

I'm not pulling for boothill cuz I don't think I will be able to get him, plus I don't need a physical dps (dps Clara goo)

Sorry, Firefly I will get u in ur rerun

[manganyeh]

RobinHill Tangled AU Scene Redraws

Featuring Jade as Mother Gothel

[bellaramseylover]

My Requests are Open!

Author Note: I am open to writing fluff, angst and smut so ask away <33

Hazel Callahan

Masterlist

(You can request for Ruby or Kit as well!)

Rain Carradine

Nothing Yet

(You can request for Cailee or Jessie as well!)

Robin Buckley

Nothing Yet

(You can request for Maya as well!)

Ellie Williams

Nothing Yet

(You can request for Game Ellie or Show Ellie or Bella, but I won’t do smut for Show Ellie!)

Jade Claymore

Nothing Yet

(You can request for Erin as well!)

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie, who is intently watching Steve, fidgeting every so often. If Eddie was a cat, his tail would be flicking back and forth with rapid increasing movements as he got ready to attack.

Steve, who was so innocently watching the game, happens to realize he hasn't heard Eddie say anything for awhile. Which means one (1) thing: he's up to mischief.

Steve barely has time to turn his head to look when Eddie tackles into him. Steve falls back further onto the couch with a grunt as his boyfriend wrenches his shirt up. "The hell-" Steve's hands are in the air, unsure if he should pull Eddie closer or push him away.

The hesitation gives Eddie enough time to attempt to slither under his shirt. Eddie can only fit his head and the tops of his shoulders under Steve's form-fitting t-shirt, but it's enough. His eyes light up at the torso covered in hair and freckles.

Eddie lays his head against Steve's chest with a dull thud, echoing the thudding of Steve's heart. Eddie snakes his arms around Steve's waist. Eddie can feel Steve slowly place a hand on his back, and stroke up and down his spine.

Steve lightly pulls the neck back so he can look down his shirt at Eddie. Eddie doesn't see it, the look on his face, content to just lay there with his eyes closed. But the adoration, love, and pure glee can't be held back on Steve's face.

[mjmagics]

Opening (K&T23)

 I loved Azarath, but I loved them more

Many know the tragic story of Azarath. How the heavenly pocket dimention and the god that watched over them caused their doom. Releasing bad energy into the atmosphere made a demonic entity stronger than their leader, Azar, could have imagined. 

As time went on the demonic spirit created a child with a young earth woman in a cultish ritual. The woman, Angelia Roth, was found by the leaders of Azarath. She happily went to Azarath, enchanted by their emerald skies and crimson clouds. All was well until the birth of her daughter, Raven. 

Azar knew Raven would bring them doom, but the people of Azarath stood against their enemy. When Trigon came to take his daughter, Azar, teamed with her mighty warriors, fought with all her strength, yet Trigon and his sons prevailed. Azarath fell, but against all odds, the child of darkness made it to Earth. 

Little do most know that another group escaped: a young woman and her two daughters. Through a talisman gifted to her, the three found safety. The talisman brought them to where it was created, once a lush forest, the three were lost on a farm in the Northern United States.. The farmer, a kind-hearted elderly man who recently lost his wife, daughter, and granddaughter, offered them their stay.

Many years later, Trigon hunted down the survivors of Azarath. In his weakened state he could only take control of the sickly farmer who now laid in his death bed. Attacking the oldest daughter and mother, Trigon attempted to slaughter the two for escaping his children. The daughter rose up, using her natural gifts from Azar to defeat the demon. In the wake of her power the vessel of Trigon was shred to bits. During the commotion the youngest daughter had called for help from the local sheriff department. 

There was little they could say, and the eldest daughter, only ten years in age, was taken away for man-slaughter. The court found her criminally insane, and the small family said a tearful goodbye as the eldest was to be taken to the state hospital. 

As a mother the woman was heartbroken, and heartbreak can cause people to do crazy things. She dropped her younger daughter at the police station before ending her life. She had failed as a mother, and abandoned two of the last survivors of Azarath. 

This is the story of the younger daughter, and the deep love that would form her into a hero, destined to defeat darkness. 

[g-00-m]

Me to my non-canon ships:

È comunque andrà

L'addio non è una possibilità

[omi-papus]

Ryley: Sooooo you have me wondering if you maybe have some… feelings, for this “friend” you're dragging us both to water hell for.

He spoke almost as if to tease him but clearly not intending to be funny as his mood was as apprehensive as could be, even if he had come down from the absolute melt down he'd been reliving every day for the past week. The other man sitting not too far away at the control panel slumped forward, burying his face in his hands.

Cal: That would make a lot more sense now wouldn't it?

Ryley shifts in his chair, sitting weirdly, but apparently he was comfortable. He raised an eyebrow.

Ryley: ¿Is that a yes or…?

He sighed again. Calvin sure did sweat a lot, the other man noticed, only because he could see the stains on his shirt, this was the kind of time that he was sort of glad the prolonged exposure to that planets ungodly salty water permanently fucked up his sense of smell.

Cal: No. No, I don't like Robin like that. Nobody believes me when I say that and if I'm being completely honest, I don't blame them.

Ryely: They probably do because you seem to be a bit too smart to just do all this for a crazy person for nothing in return.

Cal: Clearly I'm not that smart…

Ryley: There's plenty of ways to be stupid. It's very normal to be both smart and stupid at once.

Cal: The hell is that supposed to mean?

Ryley: I don't know, you're smart enough to break me out of jail and dumb enough to WANT to go into 4546b.

Calvin breathed heavy again. That's the kind of phrase he'd use to describe Robin. He thought it wise no to mention that less the escapee started questioning him about his thoughts on that dumbass woman again. It did feel… strange to be put in such a role.

To be the crazy one.

Cal: You're strong enough to knock me out and run. And you've already said you'd rather be in prison than with me, so I wouldn't buy that you're staying here cause you're afraid of Alterra catching you again.

He made eye contact, with something that wasn't quite confidence but definitely wit.

Cal: Why exactly are you still here?

Ryley didn't flinch. That's because he realized this himself the night before. And until now he was actually trying to answer that very question. Sucked that he had to externalize it like this but oh well, maybe talking about it might help him figure it out.

Ryley: Sympathy maybe. Probably pity is the better word.

Cal: For my friend?

Ryley: For you.

Another wave of exhaustion and emotion thrashed through Calvin as he sat a little straighter, trying to find the right words for a second.

Cal: You. You have pity on me. The sole survivor of the Aurora.

Ryley: Is this you feeling pathetic or some sort of “you've suffered so much yet you still care about my dumb problems” thing you're doing right now?

Calvin will never be able to understand why those comments don't make him want to punch him. Even being downright insulted by him felt so dry and intentionless it just made him feel nothing.

Cal: It's freaky how perceptive you are sometimes.

They were fully facing each other now, both fully thrown comfortably and ungracefully onto their chairs. The same way you would, if you were talking utter nonsense with your friends at the end of a drunken party in university.

Ryley: Dude that's not some incredibly complicated social cue to understand. Get a grip.

Cal: Well I'd expect the guy who hasn't talked to a single human in two years to be a little behind on his social skills.

Ryley: I forgot how to speak after a while.

He phrased it as if he expected it to instantly halt the flow of conversation. Some sort of ultimatum, that would make the other instantly regret everything he said and beg for their forgiveness.

Cal: Yhea, laryngeal muscles can atrophy if you don't use them enough and experienced divers learn not to scream often to preserve oxygen. With how you were living, your vocal cords were probably incredibly weak after a while. Especially if you're really one of those people that don't record PDA journals.

Ryley: What the fuck?

He stared at him with a look that was utterly flabbergasted. He couldn't decide if that was insensitive, tone deaf, or actively malicious to say, but it sure as hell left him floored.

Cal: Or are you saying you got some sort of brain damage? Cause if so, you recovered amazingly well, like damn.

Ryley: …

Ryley: Are you trying to fuck with me?

Cal: No…? What… was I supposed to answer to that exactly?

Ryley: l don't know! “Oh I'm so sorry that happened to you”. Like a normal person!

For the first time in a while, Calvin made a face that didn't look like he wanted to digest his own eyelids, one of genuen inocent confusion.

Cal: I figured you didn't want me to pity you.

Ryley: I don't!

Cal: Did you just want me to feel bad or what?

Ryley: Yes! Obviously!

Cal: You know a normal person wouldn't admit that even if it was true.

Ryley: Oh yes, and I'm the most normal person in the world, sure.

Cal: You seem a lot more normal than me. Like you said, I'm heading to 4546b ON PURPOSE. Youre the victim of an accident, and sure youre sure as hell not “normal” as in just about no one in the galaxy has cured the fucking Kharaa, but thats like, renound hero type of “not normal”

He was sounding EXACTLY like Robin right now, and it made him want to vomit.

Ryley: Sucking my dick would be a lot easier than trying to win me over with a speech.

Cal: You're gross, is that a request or a joke?

Ryley: Obviously a joke.

Cal: Well with you its kind of hard to fucking tell.

Ryley: I don't remember flirting with you at any point so I don't know why youd suddenly think I'd seriously mean that now.

Cal: You're a weirdly honest guy! I honestly feel like I have to work duble to take everything you say as completely literal.

Ryley: Oh sure I'm just SUCH an angel.

Cal: Fuck you.

Ryley: Feel free. I dont charge.

Cal: Again?

Ryley: And I'll do it a third time if you dont stop being a kiss ass.

Cal: I'm not kissing your ass!

The man was the most lively he'd ever seen him. Ryley noticed that only when he was angry or annoyed he hopped out of that utterly depressing state of exhaustion and misery he seemed to be permanently stuck in. It suddenly clicked in his head why this “Robin” character was apparently so fond of teasing him. It seemed to be the only way his heart would pump enough blood to not make him go into a coma.

Ryley: I'm sure you'd love to kiss a lot more than just my ass.

Cal: Oh my god, go fuck yourself.

He spat and turned back to the control panel, fully intending to go back to his work and probably drown in it for the next few days. Ryley decided he was going to be nice enough to spare him that fate for a couple of hours.

Ryley: With thoughts of you, I'll do that every night.

Cal: This is literally sexual harassment. Stop!

He didn't look at him. Though he could see his cheeks were red.

Ryley: Does it actually bother you that much?

Ok if he genuinely felt like that, he wasn't about to be that much of a dick. He'd watched enough company seminars to know how shitty that stuff actually is.

Cal: Yes! Now cut it out!

Ryley: Alright, I'm sorry.

Cal: …

He looked back at him with scrutiny, Ryley slowly feeling more regretful, guess those jokes werent as funny as they were to his Aurora roommates.

Ryley: I… I wont say shit like that anymore ok? Calm down.

Cal: Thank you.

He concluded indignantly. They both sat in silence for a moment, Cal seemed somewhat fidgety like he couldn't quite concentrate on his typing or the words on the monitor, eventually he just stopped, but still faced away from him.

Cal: But if you want to talk about that so bad, tell me, is it true that there's all that sex stuff in prison?

Ryley came to life a little bit. Not surprised that he was talking to him again but that he picked such a topic.

Ryley: Didnt happen to me, and the case I've actually heard of where two cell mates that were beside me, that actually seemed to genuinely really like each other. It was weird and definitely annoying to have to listen to when they did go at it, no clue if they were actually full on banging, with no access to, well anything, but they sure yelled a lot. Outside of that it genuinely seemed like they had something.

Cal: Huh. That's a lot more wholesome than I expected.

Ryley: Yeah it was actually kind of hopeful to see. Good thing they were both strong as hell so they never had to worry about anyone bothering them for it.

Cal: That's… kind of sick actually.

Ryley: Yhea.

After the brief awkward silence, Calvin turned around again slightly.

Cal: Did you have anyone? Before the Aurora?

Ryley: No. I'd like to say there's more to it but I just don't date much. It's very rare for spaceship crew, especially Alterra staff. Since there's a whole lot of clauses you have to fill for that.

Cal: Sounds like Alterra…

Ryley: I would gladly become an Alterra employee over a prisoner again, thank you very much, but whatever. And since you're not actually trying to get into these Robins pants. How about you?

Cal softened a little bit, simply at the fact that he didn't even tease him, he just believed him about his relationship with Robin. Ryley couldn't yet begin to understand how appreciated that was.

Cal: I had a fiance.

Ryley: Had. Yikes. How did that go down?

Cal: She thought I was in love with Robin…

Ryley suddenly widened his eyes slightly, instinctively scooting his chair closer to the other man.

Ryley: Hmm… sounds awkward.

Cal: She hated her the whole relationship, I don't quite get why. They were apparently friendly with each other before we started dating. But when we became a thing she just seemed to absolutely loathe her.

Ryley: Did she hate all your other friends too?

Cal: …

Cal: Whatever. When I proposed she said yes with the condition that I cut Robin out and…

Ryley: You said no.

The man suddenly slumper forward again, face in his hands once more. Ryley was left a bit shocked by the sudden exasperated gesture.

Cal: That would make a lot more sense now wouldn't it?

He whispered pathetically. Ryley got even closer. Face almost losing any previous sign of aggression or sarcasm.

Cal: That was at around the same time my friend's sister died. And she insisted on going to 4546b.

Ryley suddenly deflated.

Ryley: You're kidding me.

Cal: I wish I was…

The ship suddenly sounded a lot quieter, or maybe his breathing had just gotten louder.

Cal: I thought it was the only way to give everyone what they wanted. I… I don't know how I could be so stupid…

He sounded like he was confusing this for the very first time, and Ryley genuinely had to wonder if he was.

Cal: She left me anyway… Guess… I guess she saw how much I regreted letting her do that, and decided it wasn't enough.

The other man could no longer decide who was the villain of this story. Until now he was under the impression that Cal was a helpless puppy that was dragged around by everyone around him, and that was still true, but that he essentially lead someone to their death by allowing them near 4546b to get rid of them…

Ryley: And if she hadn't left… Would you not regret what you did?

Cal: Of course I would! I begged my fiance to help me! I thought that even she would understand that nobody deserves that fate and she just insisted that I wanted to fuck her and I just…

He hid his face within his arms against the terminal, not caring how many buttons he was pressing and how that was messing up his code. Ryley was left to sit there and reflect. He could at least decide that he definitely didn't like the fiance, and it definitely concerned him how Cal would have been willing to date and even marry someone so seemingly psychopathic. His feelings towards Cal felt a lot more skewed now that he knew his mistake was at least partially motivated by a petty romantic scuffle. Still, he felt bad for him, even if what he said before felt very true, that Ryley was the one who suffered the most, Calvin had a way of just appearing so utterly miserable that it made him seem even more jaded than himself.

And that was a bad thing. A very bad thing.

Ryley: You won't survive 4546b if You're this depressed before even going in. Not even those precursors could handle it, you'll die.

Cal peaked part of his face out of his hideout. Still refusing to properly look at anything.

Cal: You've ever heard the phrase “Adventurers don't go crazy down in the abyss, because anyone whos in there was already insane”?

Ryley: …No, what movie are you trying to quote right now?

Cal: That's what my father told me once. I could never figure out if he actually made it up or took it from somewhere, but it stuck with me, and now I feel like I understand it more than ever.

Ryeley: You do realize you're calling us both insane, right?

The older man tiredly took his face out of his hands, giving Ryley a slight relief when he confirmed he wasn't crying. He lifted himself up and leaned towards the other ever so slightly, a solid distance, but the firmest eye contact Ryley had ever been given. It felt somewhat heavy on his heart how at that moment it hit him that even when his words could easily be interpreted otherwise, no one had ever made him feel as wholeheartedly respected as Calvin did.

Cal: You know you are.

The survivor took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, looking right back at him with as much of that beholden intensity as he could imitate.

Ryley: Yhea. I am.

[chervbs]

Hi! I hope youre doing well. Out of curiosity, do you have any requests youve received and/or are working on? I thought about sentindo you one but i don't want you to feel overwhelmed if you already have some. Also, i would just love to know if there is anything coming

hello love! first of all, thank you so much for taking the time to ask this, you’re so sweet!

second of all, I don’t fulfill requests in chronological order. I always do the ones that capture my attention and that I have the inspiration to write first. there’s lots of requests that I never get to because there’s something about them that doesn’t click to me and I don’t wanna be stuck with writers block when I could be working on another fic.

that being said, you can always send a request as long as my bio says that requests are open!

currently I’m jumping between a few different fics. one is a requests for steve that kinda goes along with safe space, a request for another part of iwmfly and a couple of non requests for eddie and robin that are from my own brain.

thank you for being so kind again and don’t hesitate to send in any requests you have! <3

[universalvariations]

@wh0refornikolailantsov - this is 1000000% JJ and Robin once they have money. This man would absoLUTELY do this shit.

#His Kenergy is off the charts

[aphrogeneias]

...right? — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)

summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.

author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.

We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.

You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.

Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.

Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”

She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”

“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.

The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.

You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Then, it was their time to groan.

Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.

It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.

You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.

That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.

No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.

It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.

That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.

He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.

A brave knight, that Eddie is.

Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?

The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.

“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”

“You say that because he's your friend.”

“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”

You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.

“You should go, by the way.”

Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.

“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”

You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.

They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.

You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.

The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.

He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”

“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”

You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.

Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”

“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”

When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.

“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.

The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”

“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”

Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”

“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”

There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”

“Baby, I'll…”

The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.

You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”

Nodding, you remain frozen in place.

They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.

You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.

He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.

To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.

He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.

It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.

You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.

“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.

You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.

“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”

He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.

“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."

If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.

You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.

"...right?"

“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”

“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”

You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.

Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”

“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”

Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.

“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”

“But, Eddie, I…”

“Think about it, and call me when you know.”

One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.

The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.

Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.

As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.

In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.

You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.

You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.

It doesn't take long until you spiral.

You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.

Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.

Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.

You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.

“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”

Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”

There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”

When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.

You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.

Two notifications from Eddie.

Can I come over?

Are you still up?

Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.

The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.

You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.

Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.

You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”

Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”

“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”

“The guys. At work. Wayne…”

“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.

“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”

There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.

“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”

“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.

“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”

Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”

“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.

“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”

He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.

[honeykaes]

lustful vices

stelleron-hunter!sunday x stelleron hunter!reader II 3.4k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no pronouns, angst, mention of blood, corruption kink, virginity loss, fingering, cunnilingus, mention of blood, minor character deaths, switch!reader, switch!sunday, unedited

synopsis: what would you do for one wish? would you sacrifice everything just to see a glimpse of it? that's a question you posed to the newcomer of the stelleron hunters, sunday. As he tries to adjust to his new life, you suggest some new vices he can indulge in to cope.

Water dripped from the corner of the dark room. Golden eyes burned into the concrete ground, widened in shock and pity. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, he was sure his gloved nails dug into the wooden chart he was chained to.

Teeth gnawed down on his chapped lips, worried at what the Heartstone woman just said and left him with

“You’re free now. Someone made a deal for you.”

Despite years of being pruned, clipped, and groomed to become the Oak Family Head, he knew no one in the Family had his back. His heart ached knowing the one person who would sacrifice something to see him alive.

“Robin…” he grunted, narrowing his eyes. What did she promise that woman?  He heard of that woman’s dealings with the Bonnajade Exchange. An eye for an eye—something Jade seemed to relish in.

Would Robin’s life be in danger now she was ensnared by that woman? She was forever tied to that snake. How could he put an end to this when he knew Jade would amusingly keep them separated until the days they perished? 

He had so much he wanted to say to his sister. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to yell at her on her decision to help outsiders. He wanted to cry in her arms and convince her to run away with him, so they can start a new life together.

As Sunday grunted, his eyes lurched up hearing noises from outside. Muffled shouting echoed from behind the door, and the sound of bullets firing to whomever were their victims. 

Could this be the Astral Express and that strange Galaxy Ranger? He fought a sardonic laugh. He tried to kill them; those people would leave him to rot just as his ”family” did.

But who is causing all this chaos? He wondered if one fray bullet managed to lodge itself in Jade’s head, truly freeing him and Jade from the new cage she had made them.

As it became silent, the door slowly opened revealing yourself. Your lips were formed in a smug smile, blood smearing across your face. A taller man narrowed his bloodred eyes as he stood by the doorway. You leaned over as Sunday tilted back, wanting distance between you two Your amused yet calculating eyes lapped up his pitiful expression.

“So this was the famous Sunday? How the angels have fallen,” you teased. Sunday grunted, eyebrows furrowing. As he opened his mouth, you pressed her finger to his lips.

“Relax there, birdie. I was just teasing. Besides, we’re here to get you out. The IPC is temporarily…decommissioned, giving you enough time to leave and come with us,” you chimed. 

The man in the doorway grunted, flinging blood that was on his broken sword.

“Seems you picked up Kafka’s bad habits with nicknames,” the man grumbled. Sunday scoffed, lips curling into a cruel smile. His golden eyes narrowed, bearing into your own.

“They already promised me my freedom. A soldier was on their way to uncuff me.”

You clicked your tongue, hand drifting to the soft feathers of the wing’s on Sunday’s head as he purged back. The wings puffed up in frustration as you chuckled again.

“Perhaps but is that truly freedom Sunday? Would you like to know the deal your dear sister made on your behalf?” you offered. Sunday tightened his jaw, looking to the ground.

It seemed like yet another group is trying to prospect him to become their tool. First the Oak Family, then the Astral Express crew, now the Stelleron Hunters? Why was everyone insisting on him becoming a pawn?

He was so sick of being controlled, yet the image of Robin burned in the back of his mind.

With a sigh he looked back up to her.

“What.”

Your grin widened.

“Your pretty dove promised to, well, never see you again. Fate worse than death when you two were so close through thick and thin,” you murmured, crossing your fingers. Sunday looked at you shocked.

“How is that even possible? How would Jade even-”

“That snake knows how to wrap around her prey. Trust me, she would make it where your sister won’t even gaze in your potential direction the rest of this lifetime,” you murmured, a more somber response than the condescending tone from earlier.

His head ached from stress as his gaze faltered away from yours, leg bouncing anxiously as he racked his thoughts with the revelation.

Making this deal, Robin was susceptible to that schemer. She’s right in the clutches of a venomous snake baring their fangs at a meek sparrow. He knew he was right to try and keep her safe, only for this to happen.

How can he fix this?

Sensing his dilemma, you leaned back, lifting your gun up and examining the weapon. Your gaze was much colder.

“You have two options now. Join the Stelleron Hunters and follow Elios’ script which will promise a reunion between the two of you…or live knowing you’re the reason why your sister is now a victim of the IPC.”

“....”

He hated this. He hated everyone. How much more did he need to sacrifice…

You crossed her arms as your colleague grunted.

“Well?”’

He’d let the world burn if it would make his sister smile.

“Fine…uncuff me.”

It had been two weeks since Sunday joined the Stelleron Hunters. He had joined them for a couple jobs, following Elios’ script to a T. Elios seemed to be pairing you and him together, but he had met the rest of the team. He recalled seeing Firefly on Penacony. 

He had learned the intimidating man in the room when he met you was Blade. He had met yet another condescending woman who also called him ‘Birdie’ and the teenager with a bad attitude who only seemed interested in hacking and gaming.

You and him resided in a bar in a hotel of whatever planet you had dragged him to for the script. Tomorrow you two will be off yet again, raising the price of his bounty bit by bit with every action he followed the the script.

Sunday sipped on his wine, feeling unamused as he placed it down. His gaze wandered to you with a bit of scorn and superiority he still felt despite not being the Oak Family Head anymore.

“...I still never would have imagined in my life I would team up with the Stelleron Hunters,” Sunday sighed. You chuckled, taking a sip of your cocktail. You leaned your cheek into your hand, soft skin pillowing against it.

“Well, I didn’t either. We all have our reasons for wanting to join, being a slave to whatever desire we are looking for,” you murmured, swirling your drink around. You eventually stop, stumping your fingers to the edge of the bar. 

“You want to see and save your sister. Firefly wants to live, Blade wants to die. Kafka wants to understand what loss and fear mean. All of us are slaves to destiny,” you responded. Sunday narrowed his eyes, it seems you withhold something important from your statement.

“And what do you want?” he asked. You snorted.

“Me? Well…I guess love,” you replied. Sunday’s eyebrows narrowed, scoffing. His eyes looked down before up again, checking your body language. Although it seems you were being serious, he didn’t believe a word.

“You? You’re joking?” he replied. You smiled and shrugged.

“My home planet was wartorn thanks to the IPC. I admit, it wasn’t necessarily as bad as Firefly’s situation but my life has been all about strategy, battles and blood since I turned 18 years old. My civilization decided to fight against the beacons of the Amber Lord….only to be wiped out,” you sighed.

“What I wish is just to go back to normalcy. Find love, settle down, find peace or whatever. Act like these 8 years didn’t exist,” you murmured. Your lips were still curved in a smile despite your somber tone. 

“What’s stopping you?” Sunday asked.

“The IPC. Got a pretty big hit on my head even prior to joining the Stelleron Hunters. I can never find peace until they’re dealt with,” you grunted, rolling your eyes. Sunday looked away from you, gazing at his reflection in the deep red color of his wine. You seemed so adapted to this despite being fairly new to the Stelleron Hunters yourself.

They all did. Although he was getting the job done, the mental toll of everything tugged on him.

“...How do you, manage all of this? I don’t get why you all sacrifice so much just to follow a script you have no idea will end,” he asked. You paused finishing your drink before swiveling your chair, so you were facing him.

“You’re doing the same, Sunday. We’re not that different at all despite you insisting we are,” you chimed, narrowing your eyes. You let out a chuckle, lightening up once more.

“Besides, all of us do little things to cope. Silverwolf for one spends way too much on video games. You should look at Kafka’s wardrobe. I swear she has every outfit combination she can, and she still purchases crap. Blade just consistently fights and spars swearing he will defeat whomever the fuck…” you grunted.

“And your vice…?”

A smirk crept onto your face. You leaned closer to Sunday as his eyes slightly widened in shock, feeling your finger tilt his chin up. 

“Teasing unsuspecting Holovians for a laugh.”

Sunday’s cheeks momentarily redden before he grunts, pushing you off. You laughed again.

“Geez, tough crowd. And I thought you were known for your upbeat personality,“ you sarcastically added.

“Be serious,” Sunday demanded.

“Fine, fine. Occasional I might go home with someone,” you admitted. Sunday’s eyes narrowed in understanding. You found comfort in sex. He never really understood what was so appealing about it, but at the same time he didn’t have much time to even focus on it to begin with.

“So lust is your vice despite you searching for love? Seems counterproductive,” he replied. Despite the insult, you grinned.

“Ah, ah, ah, Sunday. Don’t put on a high horse when Penacony was known for indulgence,” you added. “What was the saying again: whatever happens in Penacony, stays in Penacony, hm?”

Sunday momentarily clears his throat, rose dusting at his cheeks.

“That was for others, not myself. I helped people to a higher path,” he said. Your face morphed to disbelief.

“...Without indulging in any vices? Tsk, tsk, tsk. No wonder you’re so high strung,” you muttered.

Sunday narrowed his eyes. 

You lifted your hand and brushed past his feather like you did the day you two met. The wings  shuttered but didn’t puff out like the last time you tried it.

“...Well, would you like to try? Experience what you missed out years on,” you cooed, tapping his golden earring. You leaned in closer, placing your hand on his upper thigh.

“And find out just what was appealing to those hundreds of people who confessed to you,” you whispered in his ear, Sunday’s body shuttered, eyebrows furrowed.

“So you’re more like a tempress huh? Coax people to do whatever dirty thing they can. Is that your role here? As much as you proclaimed you're a fighter, the softness of your hands tells me everything I need to know about you.”

Your smirk grows at his observation.

“So how about it, birdie? Mark this new chapter abandoning all you know and let yourself experience life’s indulgences…” you cooed, blowing cool air into his ear. His hand grabbed your own. Just as you leaned back taking it as a sign of rejection—Sunday scoffed—gloved hand digging into your own.

Your gaze caught to the tent developing in his slacks.

“...Alright.”

Sunday sat on the bed, his throat felt dry. Why was he so nervous? 

His heart seemed to be wanting to lurch out of his chest..

As much as he denied it, he was curious about lust and sex. He recalled numerous confessions where people had admitted wavering their eyes from their “beloved” spouses, but he never truly understood why.

Meeting you, he’s beginning to start to.

His breath hitched—feeling you sit down on his lap—gently rotating your hips. Your core grinded against his bulge as nails dug into the silky hotel bed sheets. 

Your hands made their way to his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. With each pop of the button he could feel sweat beginning to cling onto his hair. His eardrums pounded as he gaze continued to flip to your expression, and to his slowly revealing bare chest.

Just as the final button was undone and you slowly pulled his top off. Your lips hovered next to his jugular, soft lips pressing down on the warm and tense skin. 

“You need to relax more. Are you sure you want this? We can stop now,” you suggested. Sunday shook his head, trying to snap him out of his timidness.

“No. I want this. I…need this,” Sunday admitted. He could feel the smile you made press against his nape.

“Oh, so the spoiled rich boy can tell the truth?” you cooed. Sunday rolled his eyes and was about to yell a retort only for his voice to hitch as your swipe swiped along his neck.

You guided his hands onto your chest. With hesitantly squeezed the mounds, as you chuckled.

“See, you’re doing good. Just follow your heart and instincts.”

You had eventually taken your shirt off, letting it fall to the ground with the other articles of clothing.Sunday rolled his thumb against your nipples, lips parted as he could feel them hardened against his touch.

With a quivering lip, Sunday leaned into the soft mouths pressing his lips to the plush breast. His tongue slowly darted out before skating around the perimeter of your nubs. 

As your hand reached down, cupping his cock, Sunday gasped, letting the nipple plop into his mouth. He sucked, eyebrows narrowed as you hand made way beneath his pants, pumping his cock.

His cock jolted. You could feel it pulsating at your touch. It seemed longer than you expected, with a bit of heaviness to it too. Just as your thumb grazed the tip, Sunday bit down on your tip of your nipple. You gasped and chuckled.

“Guessing you enjoyed that, huh?” 

Sunday lifted his mouth up, lips gleaming from his saliva.

“...Stop teasing me already and get to the point.”

“Ahhh you’re rushing the best part. I’m guessing you didn’t know foreplay typically makes things feel better for you,” you cooed. “But alas, I understand. You’re eagerness is showing former Oak Family Head.”

You shimmied Sunday's slacks and briefs off, as his cock plopped onto his lean and toned chest. It quivered, lolling to the side desperate for more of your attention. You had risen from your seat, taking your own pants off.

Sunday caught the strings of slick that connected the fabric of your underwear, thighs and cunt. He felt his mouth water, gulping slightly as he drank up your entire nude form.. His hand reached out and connected with your thigh. It wandered from up as he relished the touch of your soft skin, pillowy texture of your chest, to the district angles of your face.

This was lust incarnate, he knew it in his heart.

“Ready?”

You leaned on top of his lap, cunt hovering above his throbbing cock. You circled your click in preparation, slowly sliding it down.

Sunday swore he felt bells as soon as his tip connected with your velvety entrance. His hips intentionally bucked up, sliding himself deeper as you chuckled, finally gliding it down.

He sucked a breath in. wrapping your arms around you tight. His heart fluttered fighting the urge to plow inside. He could feel your tight cunt squeeze and coax him to slide deeper, if it was possible.

Just as you lifted your hips, about to ride him, Sunday’s grip on you got tighter, a loud groan reverberating throughout the room.

Thick ropes of warm cunt shot inside of you, as his hips meekly jolted up. His back arched, covering his moan of any further pathetic noises from escaping. His eyes slowly opened, feeling his high finally come down gazing at your slightly disappointed face.

He could feel himself softening inside of you.

“I-I…I don’t know what happened…” Sunday admitted. “I tried to control myself but”

You sighed but gave a supportive smile.

“I know. It’s your first time. I would have been surprised if you lasted longer to be honest. You never masturbated or have sex, right? This was bound to happen,” you murmured. You lifted yourself off of his cock, his eyes gazing at his cum leaking down your thighs.

“I won’t lie, I am a bit sad I won’t get my fill but there are other ways of that,” you murmured, laying beside him, looking up at the ceiling. The burn of arousal was beginning to shimmer between your thighs.

Sunday looked down, lapping up the view of your body.

“Like what?”

You grinned at the question, lulling your head to the side.

 “Curious still? Well, there’s different ways. Toys, but I didn’t pack any. And these guys,�� you stated, wiggling your fingers.

“Show me.”

You hummed, letting your hands slide down the curves of your waist and thighs before settling at your cunt. Your finger slides along the slit a couple of times before you gaze a dramatic moan as Sunday tensed further, to your satisfaction.

Your thumb settled on your clit, beginning to rub circles. Sunday noted that was the same spot you did before getting on top of him.

“Doing this for a little while can get me to that euphoric feeling you just had. You can also slide your fingers in too, but the main focus should be right here.” you hummed. You continued, and closed your eyes, letting your other hand grip tightly on your breast.

Your hips began to grind down on your fingers, inching closer to your high.

“Wait! Let me do it!” Sunday grunted. You opened your eyes to see Sunday, moving your hands away. His long fingers followed the same movements, grazing your slit before letting his calloused thumb press tightly against your clit. His movements were slow but began to go faster as he felt more sure of himself.

You were squirming beneath him, and he couldn’t help smiling. It was so interesting, having him on top of you now. He liked it. He liked you under him, his touch being the ultimate desire of reaching euphoric highs.

He liked being in control.

His fingers sank into your cunt, drilling as his pace didn’t let up. He noted the way your nails harpoon against the bed sheets as his timidly once did. He noted the way your moans didn’t seem fake, they were as soft and pathetic as the ones he had made.

Your face leaned to the side, gaze half-lidded beguiling him further. 

He thought righteousness would save him. No, perhaps sin will instead.

After all, he can just ask for forgiveness later.

He leaned his head into your cunt, tongue beginning to swirl on the bundle of nerves as his fingers continued to plow against him. Your hands weaved their way into his silver hair, pulling him further into your core. He could taste your sweet arousal mixed with the saltiness of his cunt, an aroma that he knew would dream off once everything was settled in the early hours of the morning.

He felt your walls begin to clamp on his fingers, giving him a harder time plowing as quickly into you. Curling his fingers up, to try to slide deeper, he heard you gasp out his name loudly.

“There! Right there Sunday!” you shouted. He continued his ministrations there, watching your body spasm as his other hand connected with your thigh, spreading you out further.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cursed out, throwing your head back. Your hips lifted up as Sunday’s eyes widened. He felt you clamp onto his fingers as he slurped up the excess essence drooling out of you. Your whole body rocked, with whimpers and whines falling from your lips.

As your body plopped down, Sunday lifted his head up from your core and slid his fingers out. He tongue lapped up the remaining juices clinging onto him, watching your tired eyes open again. Your chest was heaving, drool managing the drip down a corner.

“I thought you were just a virgin…” you muttered breathlessly. A new found but familiar confidence fell over Sunday As he crawled on top of you. His cock lurched, hardened and pulsating, eager to try again as it nudged against your burning clit.

“I’m a fast learner.”

Perhaps he can adjust to becoming a Stelleron Hunter better than he originally thought.