#ipc grunt x reader

[kangen-wanshi]

Quick Break ft. IPC Grunt

He missed you--lots. There's just so little ways to get your attention when he's on duty, but he's willing to sacrifice a few Points for it.

Tags: lots of touching, pet names, no gendered term used, reader is a Nameless, suggestive ending, no character in specific for this so use your imagination

A/N: how the hell do I tag this

Going through the challenges that are Aetherium Wars is a little more taxing than what you had expected. The ‘game’ itself is not difficult, at least, to your standard. Having traversed through worlds as a Trailblazer, you’ve encountered games much more difficult and challenging than the monster-turned based game. Even so, it doesn’t really deflect the fact that the game itself is a pleasure to play through.

As you tread the empty path on Belobog’s Victory Road, a hand clasped over your wrist before pulling you into a nearby alleyway of the hall. Right before you can protest–yelp, or even punch the stranger in retaliation, he puts his gloved hand over your mouth and shushes you.

“Shshh, shh… Sweetheart, stop stop–don’t wriggling, stop–it’s me! Hey!” He yelped in return when you almost bit his hand off with a scoff, “What?!”

“Don’t do that!” you try to swat his gloved hand away with a pout even though he insisted to stay near you. With how cramped the corner he dragged you to–it’d be difficult to wrestle your way out of here after all, so you fell to defeat as he shook with gentle chuckle, his hands now slid down to your hips and pulled you closer to him.

“Right.. ‘M sorry baby, you know how it is–I’m not supposed to slack off, remember?” He mumbled under his gold-plated mask with an obvious exhausted sigh, leaning his face to the crook of your neck, nuzzling the cold area with the warmth that radiated from his uniform. 

“Why are you here then?” You let out a teasing snicker at his clingy behavior, which earned you a light squeeze on your waist as he let out a soft grumble.

 Although his grumble soon shifted to a pleasant groan when he felt your hands sneaked to the back of his neck, sliding under his armor, onto the undershirt, and gently put pressure on his tense muscle.

“I miss you,” he mumbled like a drunken fool in love as he nuzzled your neck further, hoping to press his lips to your skin through his mask, “Miss my little darling. Miss it when you spoil me. When you kiss me. When y’ hold me.”

He sighed again, keeping his head close as you kept trying to ease up any muscle and soft surface on his body that you can reach without unfastening his uniform.

“Did you miss me too?” He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. Even through his mask–the desperation in his voice is clear. Seems like work as an IPC worker drains him heavily–specially today.

So you cradled his face carefully in your hands, gave him a reassuring smile, and brushed your lips against the plate of his mask over where his lips are.

“I miss you,” you giggled quietly, “Sorry I haven’t been able to visit. The Nameless has been busy.”

“I know,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck again after the little kiss, knowing he won’t be able to hold himself from breaking a rule if he let you do more of those. So instead, he opted to squeeze your waist.

“How long until they get suspicious that you’re.. Missing?” You grinned playfully as you feel him getting a little more handsy, the tip of his glove snake under the hem of your shirt, touching your skin, shivering you with the cold of its surface. When you shudder–he let out a content groan and pressed himself further against you.

“Ten minutes,” he pulled his head back again, cupping your cheek with his hand, and run his thumb over your lower lip enough for you to kiss it, “Better make this quick, lovely.”

[draconic-desire]

💥 Take My Whiskey Neat 💥

Yandere Boothill x Reader

Again and again, you find a way to escape, and every time ends with you peering down the barrel of a gun.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, forced relationship and captivity, implied kidnapping, some suggestive content but mostly sfw. Mild spoilers for his background story; I want to write him both as a super attentive and protective guy but also crazy for you???

You’ve become all too familiar with the sensation of a gun being pointed to your forehead.

“Aw, darlin’, why the long face? Took me two whole days to find ya this round! You should be proud’a yerself. I dare say our time together has taught you well,” he concludes with a wink.

Somehow, his praise feels more like a taunt.

That’s because it is. Obviously you never had a chance at escaping from him, a Galaxy Ranger with a bounty on his head worth more than your life a hundred times over. He was born and raised to hunt, to track, to kill. You’re just the unlucky target.

He leans the gun ever so slightly closer to you, mere inches before it can graze your skin, and waits for your response. Although you know he won’t pull the trigger, the sight of the 9 millimeter colt aimed directly between your eyes still sends goose flesh skittering down your arms.

You grit your teeth and pin him with a withering glare. The last thing you’ll relinquish is your pride—you’re not intimidated by him, and it is impressive that you evaded him for so long, relatively speaking. Your other escape attempts lasted mere hours.

Unfortunately, the fact that the Ranger has always traveled alone doesn’t help your chances—especially when lately, his only occupation has been you.

“What, no clap back today? No, ‘fudge you, ya son of a nice lady’ or ‘fork you, shirtbaggin’ bootlicker’? I’ve gotten so used to yer colorful language that I’m almost disappointed!” Boothill tilts the gun and juts his hips, his bullseye gaze locked on your own.

Ignoring the subtle look of longing, of hurt, within their depths is getting harder and harder. He’s superb at hiding it behind jokes and attempted curses, but you know that look. He’s clinging to you after all that’s been taken from him, seeking love after it was destroyed in flames. If only he still held onto his human emotions and didn’t rely on that neuro chip of his; then he’d know that what he’s showing you isn’t love, but obsession.

You wish you had never extended your kindness to him that fateful day, when he’d burst into your home, sparks flying and wires exposed. One of his arms was barely attached, completely torn through with bullet holes. A shootout, he’d said, and he’d caught wind of a handy ‘machine doctor’—a mechanic, you’d corrected him—in town who could fix him right up.

It had taken a full two weeks for you to get him back up and running functionally. Two weeks of evading IPC grunts knocking on your door in search of him, two weeks of tolerating (and fine, maybe even enjoying) his crude jokes, and two weeks of stories over a glass of whiskey, about your hope to one day travel among the stars and his of finding a companion to do so with.

That’s when he’d seemed the most human. Voice tinged with sorrow, yes, but lips curved into a morose smile, eyes looking up at the stars. Reminiscing about when he was still fully human, nothing but a cowboy on a seemingly insignificant planet, surrounded by his adopted parents and siblings, and even that little girl whom he never got to see grow up.

After he’d shared his story, you’d felt the sudden urge to be close to him. Without thinking, you’d brought your hand up to his cheek, wiping an invisible tear despite the fact that he lost his tear ducts long ago.

He’d sucked in a breath and gone deadly still; thinking you misjudged the situation and overstepped a boundary, you’d quickly started to jerk your hand back, only for him to lock it firmly against his face with his metal palm.

His voice, normally loud and clear through the synthesized distortion, had been quiet, low, wavering. “I—please, don’t stop. That feels…nice.”

You were sad to see him go after those two weeks. You honestly expected to never see him again—he was a Galaxy Ranger, after all, the definition of a lone wolf—but to your surprise, his visits didn’t end there. He kept returning again and again, and not just for repairs. Sometimes he’d bring you gifts or tell you stories of his hunt, and you’d cherish those moments when the galaxy felt just a bit less lonely with him.

Then the visits started to increase in their frequency—and intensity. He’d show up while you were working with a client and brazenly threaten them to leave so he could occupy your time instead, or he’d appear on your doorstep in the middle of the night with your favorite bottle of liquor, winking at the sight of your embarrassed form, still in your nightclothes. Your world suddenly seemed to revolve around the gunslinging cyborg.

You’d had to put your foot down—as much as you did enjoy his company, you wouldn’t allow him to interfere with your career. You’d worked hard to gain your skills, and even though you were barely scraping by and living in a tiny, modest home by yourself, you were still proud of what you’d achieved on your own.

His initial reaction was an uncharacteristic and frightening bout of silence, his pupils blown wide, locked onto yours. Just as quickly, his typical smirk returned as he laughed it off. “Just watch out, lil cutie, ‘cause I know you’ll be missin’ me soon.”

Apparently, soon was imminent, immediate. You were pouring yourself a drink after a long week of work when he finally kicked down your door and announced you’d be coming with him.

“I’ve been waiting a long while now to claim you, darlin’.”

“And if I refuse?”

That was the first time you witnessed his gun trained on you.

Now, Boothill drags you along everywhere, hopping from one planet or system to the next, living together as nomads. What you believed to be a serendipitous friendship, he thought was the start of your romance and life together.

It would be thrilling in any other circumstance, treading the path of The Hunt, evading the law, tracking down the IPC members who destroyed his family…except the cyborg transferred that need to protect, to save someone, onto you. You have no choice but to be his now, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.

“You just want to hear me curse because you can’t,” you growl. What a stupid argument to be having with a pistol to your head. Yet you can’t help but siphon all of your anger into this dumb little game of cat and mouse, of shark and minnow, of hunter and bird.

He forgets you’re not the only one armed.

You flash him the most vulgar gesture you can make. “Go fuck yourself, Boothill.”

The cowboy throws his head back in a laugh. “Haha! There she is. Wild as a newborn colt.” He grins, flashing those shark teeth you’d groan to loathe. You’ve lost count of the number of puncture marks and scars they’ve littered across your flesh.

That’s something he can’t seem to get enough of—the feel of your warm, organic, human skin against his cold, steel shell.

“Lan shoot me with an arrow, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you grumble, looking up as if the Aeon will give you an answer.

“Think ya already know the answer to that,” he replies, lowering his weapon to sling his opposite arm around your shoulders. The gun hangs languidly from his other hand, as if he’s not the deadliest shot in the galaxy.

His breath brushes your neck as he leans in and nips at your ear. “Now, how ‘bout we take this back home, eh cutie? Two days without you has got me pretty…” His voice drops an octave. “…pent up, if ya know what I mean.”

The tooth marks along your skin flare. Oh, you know all too well.

~*~

Trying to find the solution to your imprisonment at the bottom of a bottle seems like a really clever idea, at least until the room starts spinning.

The empty glass cracks against the wooden table again as brown liquor burns down your throat. What did he call it? Rocket fuel? Damn right, and you’d lost count of the number of shots you’d taken.

Boothill’s normal smirk is contorted into a small frown. “Darlin’, I know it’s been a long couple’a days away for you, but I think we should retire the whiskey for the time being—”

“Shyut up!” you slur, jabbing a finger at the Ranger, your neck still throbbing from all the love bites and hickeys he’d given you. “Thiz is your fault.”

He reaches for the bottle, but you snatch it away and instead start to take pulls directly from it. A deep sigh reverberates behind you as you stand and begin to spin around, hands extended. “Aren’t we celebrating you catching me again? You got what you wanted, you…you mudder…fuuuu…” You sway and just barely catch yourself before you tumble—wait, no, that’s him steadying your shoulders.

“(Y/n).” You blink out of your haze momentarily; only on rare occasions does he use your name and not things like darling or cutie. His face is controlled, mouth tilted downward. “Put the bottle down. I know the feelin’ of wanting to drown in liquor, but it ain’t right.”

“I’m only like this because you took me from my life!”

He bares his teeth, and you know you hit a nerve. “That little shack you called a home? Was that really livin’? All those nights we talked, you said how you wanted grand adventure and risk! To travel and see the stars! To be with me!”

“I didn’t ask for you to put me in a moving cage,” you spit back, trying to shake out of his iron-clad grip. “But you never asked what I wanted, did you?”

“Why’s this all so hard for you to accept?” One hand moves to grab your chin, tilting your face towards his tall form. “It could be just us, ridin’ through the galaxy for all time.” His lips brush lightly against your own, and you feel a tinge of warmth run down your spine. “Just be mine.”

In your drunken stupor, your anger morphs into something else, something more carnal. He wants to be the predator? Well, even the hunted fight back sometimes.

The bottle drops from your hand, shattering against the floor, as you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him fervently, your tongue running along the edges of his pointed canines.

Before he can kiss you back, you pull away, wiping the back of your mouth with your forearm. “That’s what could have been if you hadn’t kidnapped me. If you’d asked me first.” Skipping over the remnants of the whiskey bottle, you flip him the finger over your shoulder as you walk away. “Too bad that’s all you’ll get. Fork you, Boothill.”

As soon as you leave the room, Boothill raises a metal digit to his lips, savoring the sensation of your warm mouth against his. So that’s what your willing kiss feels like. The true passion he knows is hidden deep in your soul, buried beneath the dirt like an unmarked grave. He releases a breathy laugh.

Well fork him sideways, but he wants more.

Taking his hat off, he sets it on the table and moves to pour himself a glass of sherry. He’s nearly positive he’ll find you passed out in bed if he goes to you now, and knows he shouldn’t, can’t be in the same room with you when his self control is so near to breaking. Better to let you sleep it off and tease you about the kiss in the morning.

Boothill kicks his feet up and takes a long sip. So, it turns out your drunken self may actually be harboring some attraction for him. Yeah, he can use that.

“I’ll have you someday,” he whispers, a promise to both you and himself. “Whiskey ain’t the only thing that’ll be on your lips, darlin’.”

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 ✿

characters: jing yuan x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, bad attempt at humor, reader is immortal, established relationship, jing yuan being jealous, found family slightly in there, yanqing coming in at the wrong time pt19487288482877

notes: i have fed yall enough horny food. now its time for fluff food aka small dosage of serotonin. open wideeeee🚂🚂🚂

the constant noise of your irritated lover was something that you disregarded with little to no attention. you could feel it after all. that familiar feeling of your husband’s eyes boring into the back of your skull like the insanely heavy glaive he carries. it wasn’t exactly a common feeling to receive but on the moments that it happens, you could never forget the feeling.

you can just imagine it already. the pout pulling on the white haired man’s lips, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the impatient thumps of his feet rapidly hitting the floor as small sparks of lightning would float around him. of course, you can’t forget the iconic, “what about me?” puppy eyes he pulls.

“beloved” the deep baritone voice of jing yuan calls out, sounding way too serious for anyone’s comfort. if his soldiers that stand guard inside his office would still be around, they would be shivering in their armory from the sheer amount of unsettling feeling it brought. it wasn’t like that they have never seen their general angry or serious. it was just that, it rarely happens and so much fewer now since he was nearing his retirement.

turning around from what you were most greatly occupied with, you give him a few seconds of acknowledgment. finally, you were looking at him now. your eyes on him, the brightest stars he loved to gaze into even as the ever burning ones around him twinkles. you were always his favorite.

“jing yuan” you simply hum with a nod before turning back to what you were obsessing over. the loud dramatic gasp that comes from where your husband is barely fazes you, as you knew he was simply trying to get your attention. you knew your husband like the back of your hand and you knew for a fact that he wasn’t hurt as he shows himself to be.

“how dare you!” the man’s voice raises a bit, the sound of his steps sounding heavier than usual as he finally comes behind you to sweep you up into his arms. you immediately let out a soft grunt, feeling his strong arms tighten around you possessively as he refuses to let you go. instead, he pulls your smaller form flush against himself, face buried into the crook of your neck with a "hmph!". such a big baby you were married to.

"jing yuan, let go of me" you say, not bothering to wiggle yourself out of his grasp since you knew it would be an impossible task. your husband can be dangerously clingy and possessive at times and this was definitely one of those times.

"nuh.." your husband immediately rebuttals, shaking his face and proceeding to nuzzle his face further into the crook of your neck. deeply inhaling your scent, you could see his broad shoulders visibly relax and slump to indicate that he was calming down from his earlier mini temper tantrum. the two of you stay like that for a while. you, held captive in his arms as your husband takes his time to cuddle you close to himself. as close as fleshly possible. not even single moment for something else to wedge between the two of you, not even the cool air of his office. if there were to be the smallest bit of distance between the two of you, he would be extremely deprived of his already dangerously low level of [name] affections.

you had been away to the xianzhou zhuming for a business trip. as one of the most accomplished merchant and the head of the trade association, sometimes your work required you to move back and forth between places, worlds and even galaxies. and this time was no different as your business partner of long time in the xianzhou zhuming had come to a stalemate in their business there due to the ipc's recent dabbling in the xianzhou alliance's trading business. it had dragged on way longer than what you would've liked which also translated to an extended period of time of not seeing your husband, your son and daughter all together. a time away that your clingy husband took very badly, even worse than your son and daughter.

but not for you, as the first thing you did upon coming back from the trip and stepping in through the large doors of his office was to head straight towards your daughter - mimi. the large lion was sulking quietly in his office ever since you went away for your business trip, constantly pawing at jing yuan's clothes and whining for your presence. and upon seeing your face, she immediately pounced in your direction, wasting no time as she pushed you down into the hologram showcasing the large starchess board as she licked all over your face. an act of affection that you returned with a hearty laugh and kisses to her adorable fluffy face. an act of affection that your husband was very very very jealous of.

he was supposed to be the one to tackle you down and pepper your face in kisses and in return have his face peppered in kisses in return! not mimi!

and yes, jing yuan was jealous over his own fluffy daughter stealing his spouse away from him. blatantly, unabashedly, without shame was jealous over. which led to now, in you being trapped in his inescapable hold. really, the galls of this man.

"mmrrp? mrreeow?" mimi meows, butting her head against jing yuan's legs to get his attention while also making it sound as if she wanted the attention back on her again. it was tough having not one but two needy lions scampering for your attention.

"mimi, you have already had enough of their attention. now it's my turn with my own spouse!" jing yuan chides the lion softly, making her let out an irritated huff. mimi wanted her parent's attention but jing yuan also wanted his spouse's attention. it was a tug of war between the two lions with you as their unfortunate victim.

after many back and forths between the two lions, jing yuan had decided he had enough and decided to swoop you off of your feet. quite literally. the smug bastard had kicked your legs under you, making you fall back into a dip with a startled gasp. giving you an "i told you so" look, your husband cups your cheek in the palm of his hand before leaning in to place a fluffy of kisses on your face. cheeks, the bridge of your nose, forehead, chin, eyelids, lips - nowhere was free from the mercy of his kisses and jing yuan was going to make the whole world be reminded that you two were happily married.

"general! i heard that [name]'s bac-EWWWW!!!" the sudden barging in of you two's son is what finally separates you from his barrage of kisses. turning to look at his son, jing yuan makes a shooing motion with his hand - momentarily letting go of you cheek in the process - with mimi.

"me and [name] are busy right now, yanqing. take mimi out for a walk for an hour or two" the white haired man says without an ounce of shame, your breathless self still in his hold. reluctantly, yanqing does as told, calling mimi to his side to leave you two lovebirds be for some time. but not without one final word of advice.

"wait until back home at least, you two!!" and with that, your son and daughter were gone, leaving you both behind to have at least a small dose of affection that the both of you were deprived off of. with an amused chuckle at his son's words, he shakes his head before turning to you with his resting cat face. pair of golden eyes crinkling as mirth and devotion dance in them while his lips pull upwards into the genuine smiles he permanently has on his face whenever you were in his line of sight. all jing yuan could do was thank the reignbow arbiter and every aeons out there for granting him to be able to live in the same time as you.

"how i am blessed to be with you, my most beloved"

[minolikeswords]

Poly!Boothill x afab Reader x Argenti- sfw and nsfw headcanons <33

tags: @mr-self-destructxx

cw: multiple positions, boothill and argenti are adorable, poly relationship, praises, degradation, ropes, lots of fluff, DP, DP + 1 hole, manhandling, soft dom argenti, hard dom boothill, dacryphilia, creampie, blow jobs, facials, face fucking, paizuri, cunnilingus, cum play??? argenti really likes tits! Let me know if I missed anything <333

Mino’s notes: going feral I love these two sm

© minolikeswords do not translate, copy, or repost my work to other platforms.

Minors do NOT interact or you will be blocked!!!! Nsfw under the cut <3

Sfw!

- Boothill loves to cuddle. Because he’s a cyborg his metal body cannot perceive touch the same way skin can, but he does feel warmth and pressure from another body. He loves having you and Argenti lying in his arms or on his chest.

- They both enjoy physical affection a lot, but Argenti is more subtle about it. Due to their respective jobs, often times you’re all in an ldr with one another, so when you are together they try their best to make the most of it. Argenti loves sitting next to you and have some part of your body touching his, and Boothill is clingy as ever, head resting on one of your laps as he cleans his revolver or plans out his next big heist from the IPC.

- Argenti likes washing yours and Boothill’s hair! Whether you have long or short hair he takes meticulous care of it in the shower, brushing his hands through them and rubbing your scalp so good you think you’re going to fall asleep.

- Boothill loves to sing you both to sleep. It doesn’t happen all that often because sometimes picking up a guitar can be particularly challenging after what happened to his daughter, but he loves how happy it makes you both.

- Argenti adores telling people about you and Boothill. Any and every excuse he gets, he’ll take to admire you both <333 he also enjoys gift giving and showing you he loves you through his actions, and loves picking up trinkets for you and Boothill during his travels.

- Boothill is a sweet talker! He adores showering you both in praises and affection, grabbing your face in his metal fingers and pressing his nose against yours as he tells you how good you are to him, kissing up against your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

- As much as I like to think they’d enjoy celebrating any relationship milestone outside, truth be told I think both of them would prefer something quieter in your house spending quality time together. Argenti cooking and preparing dinner, Boothill helping you around the house as you prepare for a cozy night together <3

- Boothill enjoys PDA, he loves showing you and Argenti off every chance he gets, he calls you both his lovers when addressing you guys. Argenti is more subtle with it, but he still likes holding your hands and praising you in public in a way that makes it known you guys are involved.

NSFW!

- Sex with them is never boring, they both make sure of it. Even when they’re being slow or gentle, they take pride in being so thorough your legs are wobbling afterwards and your eyes are filled with tears of pleasure.

- Boothill loves giving head, have you seen his tongue? He eats pussy like he’s a starved man, making Argenti hold you down while he sucks on your clit until you’re coming undone on his face. He’ll take his time with it too, especially if you’re too demanding, letting Argenti play with your tits while he teases your clit and slows down or stops right as you’re about to cum.

- Loves having you lay on your back while Argenti fucks your tits and Boothill uses your mouth. Soft grunts leaving Argenti as he silently admires your face as Boothill fucks your throat, a metal hand gripping your cheek to keep you in place as you drool all over his cock.

- On the subject of tits, Argenti also loves giving you facials during titjobs. He’ll pull out from between your tits just to cum all over your face, he really likes it when you stick your tongue out and look up at him when he’s doing so. He’ll take his time praising you after.

- As much as he loves talking about you both and admiring you, Argenti is quieter during sex. He prefers to focus on your pleasure. He loves watching your reactions, what makes you whimper and cry out for more, occasionally he’ll praise you but it’s not often. Boothill however? It’s a surprise if that man isn’t talking. If his mouth isn’t spewing out the filthiest and dirtiest string of words just to make you squirm and blush with need, then he’s praising you so well the tips of your ears are pink.

- Boothill likes getting risky with the ropes. Especially during sex with him when Argenti isn’t involved, he likes tying you up keeping your legs spread while he fucks you. He loves how embarrassed you get and how desperately you pull against the ropes, begging to touch him and trying to pull away.

- They enjoy leaving bruises on you and each-other. Argenti’s aren’t as noticeable as Boothill’s, who’s metal fingers leave marks all over your body and his sharp teeth marking up both your throat and back, and also Argenti’s. Argenti really enjoys leaving hickeys around your tits, collarbones and thighs. For Boothill, since his only none metal parts are his neck and face, Argenti likes to leave a hickey or two there, they’re usually smaller and they fade quick but Boothill loves showing them off.

- Argenti likes double penetrating one of your holes with both his and Boothill’s cock. He thinks you look so pretty when your eyes go rolling back and you grip onto one of them, whimpering and whining and begging for more. He loves taking care of you and making you feel good <3

- Boothill is embarrassingly into watching Argenti creampie you. His own cock doesn’t produce sperm anymore, but shoots out lubricant, and as helpful as that is, he also just really loves watching you get filled up with cum, especially when it leaks out of your sensitive pussy. Sometimes he’ll get right between your legs and lick Argenti’s cum right out of you.

[bloody-night]

Slow

(Harmony) Sunday x male reader

fluff

What time was it again? Midday…? You were sure it’s been a while since you’ve both been inside your bedroom. You and your ‘new’ lover.

Although you have had the hots for him since before his conversion to a passenger. In Penacony, always seeing him past the corner of your eyes, before finally able to talk to him face to face. Later on to fighting him with the others, tough times.

After sometime of not seeing him, you finally saw his new and altered self, missing his beautiful halo but enjoying his newest looks. Now here you both are, in the same train, same room, together.

“Dove, are you alright?” You whispered, holding his gloved hands in yours, your thumb rubbing circles on them. Sunday grinned softly, enjoying your touch. “Yes… I’m alright my dear.” He whispered, looking up to you. His cheeks covered in slight pink. “Though… I think I… want a kiss.” He had finally asked, after being patient for him.

First time he’s ever been in a relationship after his freedom given by the IPC, after everything. He was flustered about being with you, extremely shy, but little by little he opened up more and more.

You chuckled softly, nodding a bit. “Of course, I’ll give you a small peck.” You hummed, leaning in, seeing Sunday’s wings tremble slightly with how close you got. Your lips landed on his, feeling his soft and cared lips, before you pulled away.

“There.” You whispered, grinning at your partner. Sunday chuckled a bit, his wings hiding his red face, a chuckle leaving your throat as you found it adoring. Your hand still caressing and comforting his hands.

You hummed and waited for him to relax, listening to your music playing as you held his hands, waiting patiently.

“Ugh! C’mon you guys! Time to eat!” You heard March 7th groaned loudly, knocking on your door before leaving to eat. You chuckled, seeing Sunday peek at the door. “We should head out, I’m starving.” You mumbled, standing up and stretching before grabbing onto your boyfriend.

Sunday stood up, stretching as well as he yawned, wings flapping on his cheeks. “Right.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “Ah… hold on.” He whispered, grabbing your arm, stopping you from opening your door. “Hm?” You questioned, glancing at your partner.

Sunday smiled softly as he leaned to kiss your lips, lasting longer this time. He gave a small grunt as he gave your bottom lip a little licked before heading out before you. Leaving you standing in a stun. You chuckled and jogged after him.

[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.

[0798f]

💞 — Sonnet 18.

RELATIONSHIP: Dr. Ratio x Reader

SUMMARY: There is little time to spend together and there was little to be hidden.

A/N: I just like the secret relationship trope.

The Intelligentsia Guild worked alongside the IPC very closely. Most IPC agents were familiar with a few Guild members and it was common for both factions to work closely together on projects. Typically, though, those at the top of the corporate ladders only dealt with those of similar status to them. They had little care for what the average office grunt was doing.

Today, Veritas Ratio found himself at Pier Point for a routine visit to the IPC headquarters. He was perhaps the highest of the corporate ladder when it came to the relationship between the IPC and Intelligentsia Guild. Most scholars have never met a Stoneheart, yet Ratio worked with multiple members side by side to accomplish important tasks. In fact, his visit here was solely to meet with Aventurine about an upcoming excursion, in the gambler’s words, they would have to take to make a deal. 

So it was strange that, instead of going straight to the ornate IPC conference room to be fashionably thirty minutes early for a meeting Aventurine would be late for anyways, Ratio made his way to the IPC archives. It was a cavernous room filled with any data log relevant to the IPC; everything from future business prospects to client information that the IPC promised they didn’t keep. Ratio much preferred the leatherbound paper of a physical book, so these archives weren’t of much use to him.

A lone archivist was responsible for organizing and sending information across the IPC’s channels. It was not an enviable job; it meant spending hours and hours alone in a windowless, sterile room doing thankless tasks. But that archivist did not seem to mind too much. They sat at a large desk with a comfortable looking chair and extra comfortable looking blanket. With nothing in their queue right now, they used their computer to listen to music and scroll through social media. In Ratio’s opinion, it was quite unprofessional for his taste, but for this thankless job that no one else was willing to do, he understood why they would allow such a relaxed environment.

Ratio approached the archivist’s desk and addressed them, “(Name).”

(Name) looked up from their screen and smiled. It was a reserved smile betrayed by the sparkling in their eyes. They stood up, carefully putting their blanket behind them on their seat, and walked around their desk to properly greet the Doctor. “Ah! Dr. Ratio. It’s good to see you. Is there something you need from the archives?”

Now, the Doctor was more reserved than most. Most of the time he wore a bust because he couldn’t bear to look at the faces of the uneducated and rarely smiled even without it. No one could read his expression and whatever he was thinking was beyond the understanding of any normal person. Certainly beyond the scope of a common IPC grunt.

“Yes,” he began. “I was looking for you.”

In the empty archives, there was no facade necessary for them to keep up. And Ratio is reserved and patient at all times so he allowed himself to lower his guard in this moment. Ratio moved forwards and placed his hands on (Name)’s waist, pressing his fingers against their side. He pressed a kiss to (Name)’s neck, then another, and another, moving upwards until he reached their jaw. The premise of status disappeared and (Name) savored his embrace, giggling with each kiss and turning to face him once he reached their jaw. Their arms found their way around Ratio’s neck and (Name) leaned forward to steal a rare kiss from the Doctor. It had been several months since the pair had seen each other in person, and while messages were a decent form of communication, it could never replace the pure euphoria of being in each other’s embrace.

Those moments, though, are often too short. The couple separated, only for (Name) to pull Ratio in for a hug. There would be no greater scandal than such a low level IPC agent fraternizing with Veritas Ratio of all people, but amongst the shelves of data they were just two regular people. (Name) clutched wordlessly onto Ratio, savoring the feeling of his body against theirs. Ratio pressed a kiss to the shell of their ear then their cheek, his lips never leaving their skin. 

Their time together was always too short, but that just meant each opportunity was special.

masterlists.

[pearl-blue-musings]

touch

Finally finished this WIP so is it garbage? Probably

Pairing: Aventurine x fem!reader, slight Dr. Ratio x fem!reader

Warnings: some smut, unreliable mc, slight angst, is the reader black women coded for my sanity? yes

Word count: ~2.3K

Aventurine is a gambler. You knew that going into this arrangement with him. The both of you have very stressful careers, him an IPC exec and you a scientific researcher, and finding some common ground came easy. You had met during a meeting with the Stonehearts and your research firm. The attraction was instant between the two of you, your breasts felt extra malleable under his gaze and you wanted to ignore the way your pussy clenched at his smirk and chuckle. At the lounge afterwards, the two of you made good conversation, drinking and getting to know each other. Eventually, he was leaning into you, his hands trailing over your silouhette before whispering in your ear.

“I know we both want each other, let’s just go to my place already.”

His voice was sticky and saccharine and it’s been embedded in your brain ever since. If you weren’t horny before that, the way he laced his words with honey had you almost cumming on the spot. Aventurine ravaged your body in ways you didn’t think were possible. You had told him in a lusty haze that his job should be eating your pussy, suggesting more research should be conducted. Never had Aventurine found himself genuinely falling for someone so fast and openly wanting more of their touch. And that terrified him. You two only knew each other for barely a day and he made the decision that you were going to be a problem. A problem he wouldn’t mind fucking every now and then until he figured out something else.

You slowly learned through the grapevine that he is willing to do whatever it takes, whatever gamble is necessary to get what he wants; he’ll sleep with, tease, ingest whatever he can. He does it in a way that pisses you off to no end. Sometimes it ends with the two of you fucking out your frustrations but it gets to you. It always does.

So you decide to fight fire with fire.

Dr. Ratio doesn’t always indulge himself in fleeting intimate moments but there was something about you. He knows about you because of Aventurine and is curious why the IPC executive doesn’t have you on a tighter leash. Despite your knowledgeable mind, you happen to be one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. Although Ratio may have a snarky temperament and brooding attitude, there have been times where he is soft around you. Relatively speaking. Through their interactions, Aventurine has spoken about you less and less which only made the doctor want to know more about his ethereal researcher lady friend. Aventurine paid no mind, he has to pay no mind.

So when you had invited him to go over some research topics of yours (a serious endeavor as you have been dying to collaborate with the doctor) and he brought over a nice wine as a polite guest, things got heated. The scholarly debate between the two of you got intense which led to the bed being occupied and ruined. Ratio had left his mark on you, whispering dirty words such as “you uneducated wench, was this your plan? Answer me, slut. Tell me. And to think I wanted to work with you, pathetic.” His toned arms are adorned with your scratch marks, his chest littered with your lipstick stains. During that time, a certain blond had decided to call you for a rendezvous, not that he was missing you, but you politely and accidentally picked up and he heard everything.

He heard the way the doctor whispered sweet and filthy promises in your ear, the sound of skin against skin was almost enough to make him break his phone. But he knew better. He knew you wanted to get on his nerves and so he listened. Listened to the way you finish with that high pitch furl in your voice, to the way Ratio grunted and thrust into you when he was done. He listened to the way your hands grabbed at Ratio’s back and could imagine the way your nails dug into the doctors back.

You let Veritas stay the night, the doctor surprisingly bathing you and suggesting that you two consider collaborating in the future. In research and the bedroom. He leaves and runs into a furious blond, a smirk on his face as Aventurine pulls out the extra key he has to your place. The gambler doesn’t let his guard down until he’s passed the threshold of your apartment. The blond finds you in a state of undress and a satisfied look plastered on your face. He tries to berate you but you tell him blankly, “we’re not in a relationship, remember?”

Aventurine didn’t want to take your words to heart, but he had. He composed himself and let himself out, seething that you would do something like this.

The next time he sees you, it’s at an IPC executive party weeks later. The drink in his hands swirls and starts to lose its potency from the ice melting. His gloved finger traces the rim as he watches you talk with Jade and Sugilite. His eyebrow quirks up when he sees Sugilite put his glass to your lips and a hand to your hips.

You’re up to something he thinks, and it’s driving him insane. Did you want better hours at the IPC? Better funding for your projects? How could you stoop to his so-called level and not let him help-

The glass in Aventurine’s hand almost shatters as you drape your legs over his colleagues thighs as you kiss him seductively. It appears that Sugilite has his hands running up and down your sides and to your ass, grabbing a fistful of it as you two grind against each other so openly. Sure it’s a dimly lit establishment, but it wouldn’t take much to know what’s happening.

This kiss with the other executive isn’t what you thought it would be. You wanted it to be Aventurine underneath you, your breasts pressing against his chest and his hand on your ass. The dress you have on leaves nothing to the imagination and you wanted a certain someone to rip it off of you. However, you have been getting tired of Aventurines antics and decided to get even with him. If he can push your buttons, why can’t you do the same?

The kiss ends with Sugilite whispering into your ear. “The money will be sent posthaste. I can’t wait to see the fruits,” he pinches your side, “of your labor. Pleasure doing business with you.” You give him a sickenly sweet smile before pecking his lips once more. You remove yourself from his lap and grab your own drink and begin to walk away as if nothing happened. Suddenly, a strong gloved hand grips your bicep and pulls you away. The walk is fast paced and you’re starting to trip over yourself. Aventurine walks faster and faster and you attempt to get his attention. You’re led to a private room where you can see some credits flashed to the attendants before he shoves you inside. Clearly this room is used for private shows with the mirrors showcasing your every move. It’s exhilarating seeing the state you’re in from different angles as he locks the door and turns around to face you. You gulp and walk back, your legs hitting the booth and falling into it with a thump. Aventurine hovers over you, caging you in with an intensity you have never seen before.

“What the hell was that?” His breath is flaring from his nostrils as his eyes square in on yours. You try to close your legs to shrink in on yourself but he plants his knee inbetween. Remembering what he’s put you through, you cross your arms and sit up a bit more.

You scoff before retaliating. “Are you kidding me? I was getting money for my research. I learned how to get what I want from you, so thank you for that.” The smirk on your face is ever present as Aventurine matches your attitude.

He chuckles darkly with a roll of his eyes. “You do know digital communication would have sufficed with him. He isn’t so easily swayed by physical bribes.” The light in his eyes darkens as his voice lowers. Feeling a bit more confident at getting under his skin, you let out a soft chuckle.

“Hmph, then why did it get completely funded? Or did you stop watching after I left?” You flinch and shut your eyes tightly when you hear the mirror behind you crack and Aventurine cursing under his breath. He shakes his hand in pain and a trail of blood trickles down his wrist. The alcohol in your system suddenly loses its effect and you blink your eyes wide. Aventurine stumbles back as the pain shoots through him. You reach out for him and he pulls his hand back in fear.

“Don’t touch me!” His voice comes out scared and broken. Your hand lingers in the air, your fingers wanting to grab at the empty air, anything really. You pull your arm back as he hisses to get his breathing under control. You then stand up, unlocking the door to get the attendants attention. “Excuse me,” you whisper, “do you have a first aid kit? Thank you.”

A few minutes pass and the man comes back with a first aid kit. You thank him politely and shut the door again. By this point Aventurine has taken most of the glass out of his hand, leaving only tiny specks only a tweezer can get from his now ripped glove. You gently sit across from him and set down the first aid kit to open it. You pull out the rubbing alcohol and get a clean towel. You part your lips to warm him but he beats you to the punch. “Just do it already,” he hisses. You nod firmly and begin to clean the wounds.

The only sounds going on are the low thumping of the bass, Aventurine’s unsteady breathing, plastic opening and closing, and the minuscule pieces of the mirror falling onto the table. The silence between you two is heavy as you mend his hand. Once it’s wrapped, you let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and go to remove your hand from his. However, he tightens his fingers around your palm. You give him a questioning look. “Aventurine…”

His breath is shaky as he keeps his gaze lowered. “Don’t do that again,” he commands. “I don’t want to share you. You are mine,” he emphasized the last word by pulling your hand and turning his attention toward you. His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, wanting to bring comfort to the two of you. The strong blond has captivated your full attention.

You swallow a lump in your throat and slowly shake your head. “I,” you stuttered out, “I don’t understand.” The gambler chuckles, drawing you into his orbit. He then pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his waist.

He cocks his head to the side with a smirk. “Darling, can’t you tell? You’re the only one I let touch me,” he takes your hand and cups his cheek with it, “like this.” Your hand stays on his warm cheek holding him firm. What is he about to say? The thoughts raging in your head practically block out all other sounds including your increasing heartbeat. His gaze softens, losing yourself in the intertwining pools of purple and turquoise.

Your eyebrows furrow and you instantaneously begin to feel exposed and vulnerable. “What do you mean? I thought-“

Aventurine snorts. “You thought like everyone else that I’m a whore? That I parade my body around to get what I want?” His fingers run up your sides slowly, drawing incoherent shapes. “I may show off,” his voice lowers as he leans into your ear, “but I never let them touch.”

Jealousy.

That’s what this is. He’s jealous, almost slightly possessive. How can you say you care for him when you don’t know him as well as you thought? You gulp and breathe to steady yourself. “Then how come you never corrected me?”

“Would you have believed me?”

A tense silence befalls the two of you. A trickle or nervous sweat travels down the crevice of your breasts, causing you to remember the lack of bra for your dress. The air is warm as you drop your jaw. Your voice is cracked as you lay your forehead against his. “I’m sorry.”

He chuckles and cups your face, his signature smirk visible on his features. “So you were trying to hurt me by using the doctor.” His voice doesn’t indicate anger, but it is controlled. It’s a statement of fact and conclusion. His hold is gentle as he slowly exhales. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers, “I know how you feel.

“Because I feel the same, you alluring,” he kisses the edge of your mouth, “smart,” he kisses the other edge, “gorgeous woman.” He finally closes the distance and gives you the softest yet most passionate kiss he’s ever given to you. The two of you remain in the private room until the allotted time comes to an end. And you stayed on his lap in his arms. His uncovered fingertips graze over your fingers, leaving kitten kisses all over your skin.

As you rest gently against him, Aventurine pulls out his phone to see some messages from his colleague.

Sugilite: the funds I gave her came from your account

Sugilite: I’m not stupid enough to mess with what’s yours

Sugilite: you’re welcome

[sorapricots]

Soothing Heaven

Summary: While the nightmare kept trailing behind each of his step keeping him wide awake and tied down to the reminder that his the last of his people, you always accept him with warm smile and open arms.

Pair: Aventurine x Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Warnings: Everyone is sad here :(

A/N: I got aventurine in soft pity AND I won my 50/50 TWICE (Yes my Aventurine is E1 I am so proud) can y’all believe that? Not to mention I got his light cone on 10 pulls with 0 pity… he wanted me fr fr.  Aventurine story quest really kills me. He just want a peaceful life yet the fate say no n make him suffering more than he already suffered :( that man just need some hug fr.

Wc:  1,1k

“You’re a child blessed by Gaiathra Triclops and can lead the clan to happiness. So always remember to protect yourself and never resent the pain and poverty you’re going through… All right?”

Aventurine gasped as he opened his eyes. Beeping from the alarm beside his table can be heard. He pushed the alarm off as he blankly stared the ceiling above him. His sister’s words keep echoing in his head. He exhaled softly as he pushed his body from the bed.

As he started to get ready he start to imagine what and how his trip to penacony will be. Will his mission from the IPC will go smoothly or will he encounter enemies he can’t face?

Whatever the result is he surely does not excited to leave. He grabbed his phone as he walked out from his bedroom. Quickly searching for your name in his contact list and call your number.

One, two, and three rings you finally pick up his call.

“Hello! Good morning my love.” Your smooth voice made him smile softly as he opened the fridge.

“Good morning my lucky charm.” He can hear you giggle from the phone which only make his smile harder. Suddenly he feel the tattoo on his neck pulsed. Which make him grunt a bit. Making his lover stop talking.

“Are you okay my love?” you asked voice laced with worries. Aventurine let out a small hum to show that he’s okay when in reality his clutching his neck pretty hard.

“I don’t feel so good about this my love… are you sure you are okay and will go to penacony?” Aventurine can’t help but smile with how worried and how caring his lover to his well being.

“Don’t worry sunshine, I will be alright. You know I always be alright.” Aventurine can hear you sniffled. Aventurine cooed at the thought of you wiping your tears.

“I’ll go to your place now hm? Let’s have some time together before I left with Topas. I’ll see you in 10, love. I love you my lucky charm.” You let out a choke hum before bid him goodbye and hear a beep from your phone.

.

.

.

10 minutes never feel so long in your life as you sit on the counter with your earbuds on trying to drown bad thoughts in your head. Your finger turning red as you keep picking the skin.

You blinked when you see a harm gloved fingers carefully pull your fingers apart. Suddenly the world is quiet.

Aventurine carefully cup your cheeks with his hands. Treating you like a glass he got from an auction with highest price. Carefully he wiped aways those tears that won’t stop streaming down. And end it with a soft kiss on each of your eyes.

“I’m here. And always be here no matter how far we are.” He said with a whisper. Your eyelids rapidly blink away the tears before you pull him to a hug. Inhaling his scent and absorbing his warmth.

“Be safe, Kakavasha.” Your tone wavering. Aventurine smile softly at the way you call him by his real name. A privilege that is reserve for you and you only.

“I will, precious.” His hands softly rub your back as you hug him harder.

“Let me drop you off at the office.” You spoke softly as you pull yourself a bit to see your lover face. Aventurine smile and nodded.

You both go to IPC office, hands entangled to one and another refusing to let go. The closer you are to the office the tighter your grip on his hand. And all he can do is just pulling you closer to his side.

“Well looks like someone is not willing to say their goodbye.” Topaz welcome both of you with Numby on her shoulder squeaking. You smile at her before Aventurine pull you a bit far away to talk.

“I will go now…” there’s a heavy atmosphere enveloping around both of you.

“I will wait here…” your voice crack as your vision blurry. Hands carefully play with one of his rings.

Aventurine lean in carefully. Cupping your cheeks as his forehead touch yours. His multi-coloured eyes stare at your glossy ones. Thumbs carefully wiping the fallen tears before he kissed you.

Slowly Aventurine pull away. You watch as one of your hand hold the other half set of earing that you have with Aventurine. Carefully playing with the crystal as your eyes watch Aventurine get into the car with Topaz and left.

Empty start to engulfing you as you walk home alone.

.

.

.

Anxious.

One feeling that have been haunted you for the past 3 days. The news spread like a wildfire about what happened with IPC especially Aventurine in Penacony.

If it’s not because how hard it was to be able to step a foot on Penacony and the responsibility you have at home you would go to Aventurine as soon as you can. But fate decided the other thing and all you can do is just wait.

Your eyes keep moving back to your phone as your fingers typing stuff at the laptop on your lap. The sky getting dark and yet there’s no ongoing news about what happened with your lover. Not even from Topaz herself.

Suddenly there’s a jingle of keychains. Your finger immediately stopped typing as you try to confirm yourself if you hear something. You can feel your chest beating.

The door creaked as it opened slowly. Showing a figure with clothing style that you so familiar with. In a hurry you put everything aside and you run to welcome him.

There he was. Your Aventurine. Looks so dishevelled. His skin looks paler than he already is. There’s no glint of light in his multi-coloured eyes. He looks like he’s about to collapsed anytime soon.

You open your arms. No words to be said as your eyes mirror his. Slowly he walked towards you before he let his body fall limp into your arms.

No sobs to be heard from him, but the way you can feel your shirt getting damp tell a story that don’t need to be untold. Carefully both of you fall to the floor. With Aventurine still in your arms and your arms carefully rub his back.

Suddenly you feel him circling his arms around you. Tight enough for you to unable to let go. You hug him equally tight. Sway your body from side to side. Aiding his inner turmoil. Telling him without words that you will be there.

“Welcome back, Kakavasha.” you said with the softest tone you can give. Sobs suddenly break out from him as you try to calm his trembling body by playing his hair.

Maybe, maybe this is what the emanator of nihility meant when she told him to go back. His soothing heaven is waiting for him after all.

[xueyidweams]

rambling once again (aventurine x cat-person gn!reader) (this kind of pattern is what I’m talking about.) (read more bc this became quite long, sorry!!!)

Aventurine in his life of working for the IPC has come across a lot of stealers or kids trying to find their food for the day. he usually gives them some money and send them on their way. however, he really didn’t expect for someone to try and rob him in Penacony, in the dreamscape no less. Somehow he didn’t sense the man hurling himself towards him and grunted in surprise as he was pushed down, before he could even open his eyes the man was off of him and running away with claw marks all over him.

dumbfounded, he gets up and looks around, only to find two cat eyes staring at him… except they weren’t a cat… well.. half cat half person? He thought the species went extinct long ago. though, you were living proof of the opposite. you helped him sit up, he felt your claws brush against his knuckles and you felt the coolness of his rings on your paw-hand. observing his every move with utmost attention, your feline eyes following his every mimic and body movement.

“well thank you kind stranger—“ you accidentally cut him off as you smell him closely and realize who he is, he smells just like those bastards from the IPC! way too rich to be true smelling! your ears curl backwards and you pull yourself away hastily as you run away from him. He blinks as he sees you run, so fast… is this why the IPC hunts you all down like you’re all one of a kind? He yells after you, “Hey wait! just listen to me, please!“ you look back at him, your teeth snared and your pupils as slanted as they can be, “leave me alone IPC scum!”

you turn a few corners and your eyes widen in horror to see a dead end… what the hell, you know this place like the back of your hand! did they build this just now or have you been hanging in the unfinished part for way too long? the hairs on your tail stand up and your ears curl back as you hear his footsteps, taking a step back your back meets the wall with an oomph.

“Hey look— don’t be so hostile, we don’t have to be enemies. you can trust me.” yeah right. with those eyes? they’re unnervingly pretty and somehow frightening. your gut is telling you to run but your heart is hammering way too fast in your chest and the sound is drowning out his voice and you feel like everything you’ve had to endure to not fall into IPC’s slimy hands again has all been for nothing and—

you feel a hand on your arm, you look up and meet his eyes. then you feel the warm tears staining your cheeks, your tail hugs your leg as your ears droop, “look. please don’t give me up to them, i’ll literally do anything. do you want any dirty work done? i can do it! please just leave me alone, i don’t want to go back i can’t go back!” you see his eyes… soften somehow. to him, you’re a stark reminder of who he was, maybe still is. the way you fight so hard to protect the most precious thing to you, your freedom reminds him so much of the unsavory memories that he doesn’t notice he is squeezing your arm a bit hard and some of the fur is stuck on his rings. you flinch and grimace and he untangles your fur from his rings, he pulls his hands off of you.

he coughs in his hand and looks at you once more, voice softer yet firm. “im not going to hurt you or give you up. that’s not my job anyways. i just wanted to thank you, for helping even though it could put me in serious hot water. cats hate water right?” you half rolls your eyes at his teasing remark, “yeah yeah pretty boy, cough up some cash if you want to thank me. thanks for not turning me in but empty sentiments won’t feed me when i have to wake up from this dream.”

he smiles and takes off the ring from his index finger, he looks at you, “can i hold your hand?” you feel a slight warmness spreading through your face and squint your eyes, “fine but don’t try anything funny!” he chuckles and takes your hand in his gently, “wouldn’t dream of it.” he slips the ring on your ring finger, winking at you. “you can sell this for at least five hundred thousand credits, plenty to eat hm?” you look at your finger, the ring and at him as your heart does summersaults in your ribcage. you’ve never… even as a tease you’ve never been flirted with this is—

he takes advantage of your stupor and strokes your shoulder, squeezes slightly and gives you a smile. “you haven’t seen me and i haven’t seen you, yes?” you nod, speechless but thankful. he turns around and you finally get your voice back, “wait!” he looks back, his eyes watching you with interest. he raises his eyebrows, “thank you. i dont know what else to say but i’ll never forget this. and i wasnt’… joking when i said i could do your dirty work. so if you need something and i can get it done, i’ll do it free of charge.” you manage to tumble out as your voice trembles a bit, still shocked. his smile returns, “I’ll think about it, maybe fate will make us cross paths again huh?” he gives a little wave and starts walking, “oh also, do take care of your fur, it’s rather soft.”

you look dumbfounded, your face morphing from surprised to angry to flustered but he has already left. you look at your ring finger again and play with the ring, maybe the aeons have pitied you now?

‘he’s really pretty…’

you think to yourself as you pocket the ring and think of all the fish, meat and bread you’re gonna eat. and maybe you’ll try that soul glad thing.

[unfortunatebrainfarts]

After working with your friendly neighborhood intergalactic space cowboy for quite some time, you've managed to become pretty damn good at understanding the gist of what he means to say

Boothill x reader

A/n: OK SO, first fanfic in like 6 years and it's for an intergalactic space cowboy

Tbh I have no idea why I wrote this, my ipad apps are constantly monitored by the teacher and I really have nothing better to do than go on my notes app and pretend I'm writing notes

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY = I HOPE YOU GET FUCKED BY THE IPC AND ROLL IN YOUR OWN DEBT AND SUFFERING (or something like that)

BLESS YOUR HEART = FUCK YOU

PRAY FOR ME = FUCK ME

LOVELY = FUCK

YOU WONDERFUL PERSON = YOU BITCH

Well ain't you just a sweetheart? = Well you're just a little bitchboy aren'tcha?

God love him = He was fuckin' underdeveloped as a fetus wasn't he (Something along the lines of 'he's dumb as shit')

"Hm. Seems about right."

To others, your furrowed brows, tense posture, and concentrated gaze at just one singular page of your notebook may make it seem as if whatever was on that page was something life changing. And honestly, they might as well have been right since you were one step closer to understanding what the hell Boothill was spitting out more than half the time.

You recall the first time you were assigned a mission with him — "BLESS YOUR HEART YOU WONDERFUL PERSON," cue you snapping your head towards the gruff voice seeing the cowboy in all his glory easily decimating the dozens of grunts in his vicinity with a toothy grin no less, which you note are very, very sharp.

His long, flowy hair caught your attention. How was it so white and clean even with all the fights you know gets into? Does it ever get yanked? What shampoo does he use?

"Now I don' mind some ooglin', but wouldn't ya say we should keep our eyes on our enemies darlin'?"

His voice snaps you out of your trance and you come to to a shovel nearing your head. You instinctively cover your face with your hands anticipating the pain, the pain which never came since when you put them down, you see that Boohill had already left a bullet in his head.

"Spacin' out at a space cowboy? Ain't that rich."

.

Ignoring the fact that he saved you from having to get facial reconstruction surgery, the reason you almost got a face full of shovel in the first place was because of the ridiculous curse on his synesthesia beacon.

That's why you've been devoted to trying to decode the albeit hilarious, rather inconvenient in a battle things he says. You've tried asking Boothill to write them down, but his handwriting could have him assigned as a doctor in no time so you gave up on that idea quite quickly.

"Whatcha starin' at so intently darlin'?

Your train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the man of the hour mindlessly snatching your notebook right out of your hands. "Aren't you supposed to stop thieves, not act like one," you ask half heartedly. It was nothing less of what you'd expect from Boothill of all people — no, cyborgs??

"Heh, this ain't thievery 's sharin'! Er, what's that one sayin' again... share to care, care to share, sharin' to carin'? Eh whatever ya get what I mean don'tcha sugar?" He retorted, you roll your eyes mentally as he put his focus back onto the notebook. To be honest you were surprised he could even read considering his handwriting was that bad.

As Boothill read each and every one of your 'translations', his grin only grew wider and wider showing the spiky teeth you don't know how are natural but have grown accustomed to seeing. Just then, a burst of unhinged laughter randomly filled the entire lounge room you were sitting in. The weird glances and whispering were already starting but Boothill didn't care, he was Boothill.

Not wanting to be associated with the man at that very moment, you stand up to leave him comically rolling on the floor. However, you couldn't even do that because the moment you stood up, Boothill snatched your leg and dragged it so that you would fall back down. This time, onto the floor with him. "Well ain't you something sweetcheeks, ya got me alll figured out huh?"
.

.

It's been two months. Ever since Boothill realized that you had actually tried to figure out the true meaning behind his words — and actually got them relatively right — he's been using you to spew out insults overtime. Honestly it was like you had become a pokemon, you could just picture it in your head.

BOOTHILL BROUGHT OUT ____

____ USED SWEAR! IT WAS SUPER EFFECTIVE

Either way, it wasn't that bad since though you might be imagining things, it feels as if you've grown ever so slightly closer to the eccentric space cowboy.

You continue to observe boothill and add more and more onto your list of translations, but apparently you fail to notice that he no longer uses any casual pet names like 'darling' or 'sweetcheeks' anymore. At least, not for anyone but you.

[draconic-desire]

♠️ To the Grave ♠️

Yandere Aventurine x Reader

Yet another escape attempt thwarted. How will Aventurine react, and what will your fate be?

Warnings: Yandere behavior, implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment and affection

The room is cold, and not just because you’re half naked and shivering, clutching at your thin pajamas. No, it’s because the man across from you is radiating an aura more bone-chilling than Jarilo-VI.

Aventurine dismisses the IPC grunts who dragged you in with a wave of his hand. You get a sick sort of satisfaction that it took four of them, plus a senior staff member in a mech suit, to finally restrain you this time.

Your escape this round was spontaneous, but you couldn’t turn your nose at the opportunity when you noticed the guards had failed to lock your door that evening. You’d sprinted out wearing nothing but the ridiculous, skimpy nightwear that Aventurine liked to return to you wearing. You’d made it as far as the outskirts of the manor before you were grabbed and tackled by the pursuing goons.

Hence how you found yourself here, presented to the very man who held you captive against your will.

The room is dead silent. His back is to you, so you can’t gauge his expression, but you notice he’s playing with a single chip, tossing it back and forth between his hands—a tick that you’ve learned means he’s thinking, calculating.

“Did you really think your little stunt would work?” His voice is calm, barely over a whisper, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Your nails dig into your palms ever so slightly harder, leaving crescent moons in their wake.

“The odds haven’t stopped me before,” you throw back, mocking his own betting lingo.

Aventurine lets out a dry, breathy laugh. “And that’s what makes a gambler. That desperate desire to cling to the hope that the next time will be the jackpot.”

“I’m willing to take those odds if it means a lifetime without you.”

He does not have one of his normal, clever comebacks for that, apparently. He merely flicks the chip one more time and snatches it midair in his left hand, which then moves to settle behind his back.

“Do you have any idea the lengths I go to in order to keep you safe?”

At first, you think you imagine it—the edge of hurt, the crack in his voice. But then you notice his posture, the hand held behind his back, the fist shaking ever so slightly. It’s the same as when he’s making a risky bet, when he’s scared of the next play.

Some of your bitterness morphs to confusion. “Aventurine—”

This time he turns, and his mesmerizing, beautiful, terrifying Avgin eyes meet your own. “You know what to call me.”

“Kakavasha,” you breathe out after a pause. At the sound of his true name, you see him release a breath, some of the ice melting around his eyes. “This isn’t safety, this is a prison. You can’t expect me to…”

Your voice trails off as he wraps his arms around you, one hand caressing your hair while the other attaches to your hip. He buries his nose into your neck, right at the base of your jaw, and you suck in a breath. You still feel the ghost of pain from each previous bite and bruise he’s left on your neck, the marks he uses to stake his claim on you.

He releases a choked laugh, making your knees weak with fear. You brace yourself for pain, for the sting of his fangs as he sinks his teeth into your flesh—

Except you realize he’s not laughing, he’s crying.

“I was so frightened, (Y/n). I thought—I thought you were gone—” Each attempt is cut off with another hitched breath, his grip on you like a vice. “You’re all I have left, the only thing that I can protect. I can’t lose you, too. I’ll give you anything. So please, just…stay.”

Your initial shock starts to bleed into uncertainty. Strings of doubt, of guilt, wrap around your heart. How can you pull away from him, knowing his past? How fate has stolen every loved one from him, leaving him a broken shell that he himself was forced to piece back together? Can you truly blame him for his possessiveness, his need to keep you?

Of course you can, logic tells you. But the lost man—no, the frightened Avgin boy, the last of his kind—who is clutching you with such unbridled affection and sadness doesn’t need your reasoning, he needs your understanding, your compassion.

You sigh, placing your hand on his head and running your fingers through his golden tresses, in the manner you know he loves so dearly from you. “I’m sorry. I—I’m not going anywhere.”

“No,” he agrees, his voice suddenly clear, “you aren’t.”

Something rattles and wraps around your neck with a click.

“Wha-what—!” You scratch at your nape, at the metal fixture that you don’t even need a mirror to identify. No. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t, not after everything he himself has been through, he wouldn’t subject you to the same humiliation and torture—

Aventurine gives the chain attached to the shackle around your neck a light tug. When your eyes lock with his, you see they are void of tears, brimming only with smug victory. The basted fucking faked it.

How easily you had fallen for the mask of Kakavasha, only to be met by the reality of Aventurine, his heart as hard as stone.

You immediately thrash, baring your teeth at him. “Bastard! Liar! Heartless wretch!” You growl when you hear him laugh at that last one. “I will never stop fighting you, not until you are alone, dead, and buried as you deserve!”

“That may be so,” he drawls, “but your willing compliance certainly isn’t something I’m willing to bet on.” He pulls you close by your chain, licking your fallen tear of frustration. “So how about I bring you to the grave with me, hm?”

[stale-trash]

Hi, of that's, can I please have yandere Jade x reader who tries to break up with her? (Headcanon). How would Jade react and what would she do in this situation?

I am assuming you mean Jade from Honkai Star Rail. If not, I'm sorry!!

cw: yandere/possessive behavior, very questionable behavior, implied violence, possible ooc

A/N: I have yet to play any of the quests she's in (╥﹏╥). I hope I did her justice!!

Bold of you to even assume you have the option to break-up with her. No matter how you end up in a relationship with her - willing or unwilling - your fate is sealed. 

Jade knows every aspect of her desires, from their depth to their origins. When she sets her mind to something, precious little can get in her way.

How she acquired you determines how she reacts to your ill-advised statement. If you are in a contract with her, she would take some time to remind you of your position - how truly nice you have it.  

It'd start small, like having you organize paperwork in the pawnshop where you'd get a first hand look at Lady Bonajade's dealings. Many desires are laid bare in front of you; some are honorable, others deplorable, and both are equally pondered upon by the lavishly clad woman. It’s hard to understand the logic behind most of the dealings, yet you remembered the time you occupied their positions - the way your desires slipped past your lips to be scrutinized by Lady Bonajade. 

You also get to see what happens to those who step out of line - more specifically, the bureaucratic aftermath. The written records of their punishment, outstanding debt, and next steps are so clinical regardless of the situation. It doesn't matter if they were fighting for their life or attempting to pull a fast one - there was no leeway. 

There was no reason for Jade to drape you in expensive fabric and opulent jewels. There was no reason for Jade to have you by her side doing menial tasks. There was no reason for Jade to suffocate you in her cold embrace and colder favor.

There was no reason for Jade to treat you like a lover. All the contract specified in its convoluted wording was that you're hers to use as she sees fit. 

If you somehow aren't apologizing for your behavior and willingly accepting whatever humiliating punishment she has in mind within a week, Lady Bonajade has no problem pushing you further. 

You'd lose all of her "favor" slowly until you're nothing but another IPC grunt. You won't be in any threat of dying, but there are many things worse than death prowling the cosmos. Don't worry, it won't be anything Jade can't fix given the appropriate price. 

All you need to do is apologize, and beg for her favor once again. Of course, a benevolent woman such as her would be more than willing to reevaluate your contract - though, it is in your interest to note that this is a one-time offer. If you were to repeat this mistake again, the punishment wouldn’t be so light. 

If you aren't in a contract with her, that would change. This relationship wouldn’t just end because you will it. But she'll let you slip from her embrace for now.

Jade is not above dismantling every aspect of your life piece by piece until you come crawling back. You can choose how much is destroyed - your social life, finances, career prospects, or even the lives of your close ones - by walking back into that pawnshop of hers.

She doesn't ask for what you seek nor what you desire - those are irrelevant in the face of her own. No, she asks if you've come back to your senses, a pet name rolling off her lips oh-so-naturally as if she hadn't constructed your downfall.

A contract is placed in front of you, the written words melting together into an indecipherable mess. Her signature was the only legible word in the entire document, with a blank spot ready for your own. 

You may gain everything you've naively wished for many years ago with a few strokes of ink - insurmountable wealth, a lavish lifestyle, and a lack of mundane worries - but gilded chains are still chains.

[honeykaes]

do robots dream?

boothill x wife!reader II 3.4k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, fem!reader, heavy angst, major character deaths, creampie, praise, marking, call back to boothill’s story, gave a name to boothill’s adoptive daughter, also gave jade some fake lore, also gave boothill an apache name, mention of killing, unedited

synopsis: boothill’s luck ran out and he finds himself captured by jade and the IPC. jade can only smirk at the galaxy ranger, preparing his sentence in an unexpected way.

“Bullets may fly round, but I’ll lay down”

It seems like bad luck was something Boothill should have gotten used to but wasn’t. 

His arms were suspended, and locked shut, keeping him vulnerable in whatever lab he was in.

He grinded his steel-sharpened teeth. He shifted his wrist to see if he could break against the clamps of his imprisoned arms. He sighed, thankful his hat was still on his head to cover his expression.

Boothill didn’t know how long he'd been in there. It was supposed to be a simple job, nicking one, silly IPC worker who made their way on a hitlist. Before he had the opportunity to pull his gun out, he was surrounded shooting electricity into him before his robotic body gave out momentarily.

This stupid cold, robotic body of his.

His ears perked up hearing shoes click along the ground. He chuckled already, knowing the one woman who would love to serve his head on a platter. Boothill lifted his head, eyes calibrating as his target-assist eye focused on the woman’s face as it flashed red. She had a smirk on her pale face, cigarette holder dancing slightly at the mused strumming of the Heartstone member. 

 She leaned in close, blowing the smoke over his face.

”Did I catch you at a bad time, space ranger?” she cooed. Boothill scoffed before his lips tugged in a cruel smile.

”No no, course’ not. Please go on. Each time you piss me off, I’ll just have another bullet to lodge between that wide forehead you got,” he replied. Jade simply chuckled, leaning away.

”How many am I at now?” she asked, amused at his threat.

”30,” he grunted.

Jade sighed, her finger grazing the cold metal arms restricted in the air. He couldn’t truly feel it, as if it were a faint glimpse his mind was giving him of the time he did have skin, but he couldn’t help balling his fist up having that woman touch him.

”It is such a shame you had to be such a pain for the IPC. You would’ve made a wonderful member,” she chimed, gazing at the various metalwork that made up his body. Boothill rolled his eyes, scoffing.

”You destroyed my planet. Killed my daughter. And killed my fudgin’ wife. On top of making me into this. You’d be bat crap if you even think I would’ve considered it,” he barked back.

“Well you’re alive now, aren’t you? Shouldn’t that be a blessing for our dear Amber Lord,” Jade shrugged, taking a huff of her cigarette. 

Boothill scoffed again at her laissez-faire attitude. That was the issue with all these IPC members. They didn’t even see the hurt they would cause people. It was always profits over people with these guys.

“Seeing those mushroom clouds cover everything I cared about and loved, is a blessing now? Maybe I should find the people you care about and do the same, huh?” Boothill murmured.

Jade remained stoic, that smirk still on her face. Boothill flashed a toothy smile, extending his neck as much as he could.

”Huh, Eve? Would your two boys Cain and Abel like to meet a space ranger in the flesh,” he patronized before he roared in laughter.

”Oh wait, I forgot. One killed the other one, right? And the other killed himself out of guilt huh? Lovely family I suppose, besides being cursed with your genes,” he cruelly laughed. He had remembered when he stumbled on the information typically locked tight. He may not do much physically, but at least he could relish in the mental games with this snake.

A flash of anger erupted in Jade’s pale blue eyes, before she closed them, trying to compose herself.

”It seems that we underestimated your intelligence,” she murmured. Boothill hooted before laughing.

”Intelligence? Sister, I ain’t very bright. But when it comes to dealing out debts….” he murmured. His face soon darkened, target dart flashing in his bloodthirsty eyes again 

“Trust and believe me, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure folks get what they’re owed,” he threatened. Jade turned around from this gaze, tapping her foot on the ground.

”And that’s the problem with you. You won’t stop until everyone else is dead. So, the Heartstones, on behalf of Diamond, were tasked to reign you in. It’s for the prosperity of the IPC you see,” she revealed. Boothill rolled his eyes. 

“What? Kill me? Decommission me? For all I care, use me up for scrapes. But whatever comes next, I’m going to drag y’all down with me,” Boothill yelled, with a crazed smile.

Jade turned her head to him, her sly smile appearing once more.

”You don’t fear death? What about the dead?” she asked. Boothill furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what he was getting out. There was nothing in his life that they had leverage over him. He purposefully had no ties.

”Why the fudge, would I?” he grumbled.

Jade turned her whole body to face him before Boothill’s eyes widened feeling something slither in against one of his inputs, in snap into one of the units as his eyes flashed with colors and binary he didn’t understand.

”The fudge is this! Huh? Woman?! What are you doin’ to me!” he shouted. Jade smiles as Boothill struggles to keep his gaze on her as pop-ups on his system interrupt his visuals. She walks over, digging her lit cigarette into his once gleaming metal chest.

”Achieving your wish of course. Night, night, ​​Káh Dił’tush.”

Boothill grumbled hearing the faint voice of yelling as his head pounded. He clamped his eyes tighter, massaging his forehead. The noise continued to remain loud as muffled laughter followed

“Who the fuck is making all the noise…” he grumbled. His eyes opened, trying to adjust the light of the room. He could barely see still. He covered his eyes, trying to navigate the room and his pounding headache. All he knew was he was in some wooden shack.

He got up from behind, trudging towards the location of all the noise. He squinted his eyes, leaving the room and heading to the hallway. Something felt eerily familiar about this place, vision still splotchy. It was as if his body even knew where to go.

”Someone needs to shut all the fucking yappin’. It’s too damn early for this noise!” he yelled, rubbing his eyes. A younger voice gasped, as an older one scoffed.

”Káh! What did I tell you about cursing in front of your daughter!” a familiar voice roared back. Boothill clicked his tongue, unamused.

”Daughter? I ain’t got no daughter and I can’t curse anyway from that stupid censor—” once his eyes adjusted once more, his heart fell to his chest. He saw his adoptive daughter, gazing up at him with curious eyes. 

His wife stood there, arms fashioned on her hips with a spatula in hand.

”No daughter? So who is she then? The person we have been raising for 5 years now? Hm?,” you asked sarcastically. “What I don’t want to happen is that she catches her daddy’s bad habits and ends up cursing up a storm too.”

You sighed, massaging your furrowed brow.

”Look, honey, I know you’re tired and all and were patrolling yesterday but this ain’t it. Especially when I’m cooking your ass breakfast with our daughter,” you grunted. Aaboli looked up at you with a smile.

”You said ass,” Aaboli cheered. You sighed and turned around cursing and noticing you’d burn the bacon.

”Crap! Aaboli, sweetie, go take care of the grits. This batch is too bad,” you sighed. Your eyes flickered in anger momentarily as you pointed your spatula at Boothill.

”And you! Go in the bathroom and fix yourself up. You got drool all over the side of your face,” you huffed. Your daughter giggled pointing at him before she went to work on the grits.

Boothill’s gaze focused on you two working on breakfast as if his feet were cemented to the ground. How was this happening? How was he back here? Was this a dream? A memory.

He sucked a breath in, pressing his head to his forehead as a sharp pain erupted. 

Every time he tried to think about what he was doing before, he’d get a killer headache that won’t go away until he stopped thinking about it.

”Don’t stand there sulking because you were scolded. Hurry up and clean yourself up. Breakfast is ready and Aaboli has school today anyway,” you called out.

”Gonna get all smart and help you patrol the town one day, daddy!” Aaboli chimed. 

He forced himself to turn away from their bodies and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door tight. He turned the faucet on, water pouring out of his before flashing on his face.

”Get a grip. Get a fucking…”

Boothill paused, realizing you were right, he could properly curse now. No goofy censors were prohibiting it now. He looked up at the mirror, pressing his hand against his face.

His skin was as brown as mocha again, teeth normal and white, eyes brown with no weird codes analyzing or doing whatever in his vision again.

He could feel his fingers, calloused from doing work and riding his horse. His hand made its way to his bare chest, pressing hard at the warm skin. He could feel his heart. An actual heart beating and pumping blood.

He was himself again.

He was Káh Dił’tush, not the galaxy ranger, Boothill

Boothill had the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. He almost forgot how he looked before he was robotized. He wiped a lone tear threatening to cascade down his cheeks before he touched his long hair, without any white streaks from the stress of that damn experiment.

He slowly began to braid it, before he walked out.

He had heard the front door close, and you grumbling under your breath before your eyes made contact with his.

“A half hour…? Took you that long, really? You know how much convincing Aaboli needed to head off to school without you being there to see her off too!” you scolded. 

Boothill smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the smile on your lips.

”I’m sorry darlin’. I had a weird dream. When I woke up, I thought I was still dreaming…” he lied. You clicked your tongue feeling his hands move up from under your shirt, feeling that warm of your skin again.

God, he missed it.

”You’re gonna need more than that for me to forgive you for acting like an asshole this morning. Wasting my food, scaring Aaboli with all that yellin’,” you murmured, feeling Boothill press his face against the nape of your neck.

He could feel your heartbeat again, warm, and strong. He pressed his lips on the artery letting it pulsate against it. You chuckled at the sensation.

”Insatiable… What are you up to now?” you asked. 

Boothill leaned away and kissed you. He couldn’t help savoring the way your lips molded onto his. His thumbs pinched against your hips as you began to chuckle.

”I shouldn’t be giving into this from how you were behaving earlier,” you murmured, leaning your head away. You pressed your hand against his cheek, as his gaze softened.

”You’re lucky you got a pretty face, cowboy,” you murmured. Boothill grinned before lifting you on top of the wooden counter.

”You’re right. I am a lucky guy,” he murmured, kissing you once more.

His hand wandered beneath your long dress, cupping your sex as a moan broke the kiss with him. He could feel your panties dampen from his touch, watching your hips shift and grind.

”And you called me the eager one”

”Oh shut up you!”

His name breathlessly escaped your lips, feeling the flat of his thumb press against your clit, rubbing small and deliberate circles on your clothed clit. He moved his head against, toward the nape of your nape, peppering kissing along the sensitive skin; however against your pulse now and again.

Boothill soon tugged on the panties clinging onto your cunt, and slick with your essence, slowly riding them down your legs and tossing them to the side.

His thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves, the digit vibrating friskily as it flicked it. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto him tighter as you ground against his touch once more. You gasped feeling his digits beginning prodding at your entrance, spoon dipping themselves into your velvety insides.

Another gasp escaped your lips feeling his digits curl inside of you, continuously pumping.

“Ah, fuck…ah!” you called out as his tempo began to rise. Your nails harpoon against his back, beginning to scrape down as Boothill grins. He could feel the sharpness of proper pain again. Your touch. Your warm skin against him. Your breathy moans by his ear caused goosebumps to erupt throughout his body.

He didn’t realize how much he missed this.

You cursed loudly as your leg squeezed against your arms, back arching and reaching your high. He continued to pump his two fingers, riding your high out until you whined from the sensitivity of your burning clit. He moved up from his position of your nap, admiring the red blotches he had made on your skin.

A remnant that he was there. You looked tired, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him.

”Fuck, ​​Káh…I don’t know the last time I came that hard,” you admitted. Boothill whistled and smirked.

”That seemed like a backhanded compliment darlin’,” he replied. You gave him a look, and he couldn’t help but smile. It was always this unamused look you gave him whenever he was right about something but you didn’t want to admit it because of your stubbornness.

Annoying at times, but a trait he found endearing all the same.

You slightly jolted, feeling his fingers slide out of you as he lapped up the taste of them.

”Shit might just be better than breakfast,” he joked. You rolled your eyes, unimpressed.

”You didn’t even eat, Káh,” you barked. Boothill chuckled regardless.

”Yeah, yeah…” he murmured. He pulled his pajama bottoms down, revealing his aching cock. He might’ve not admitted this out loud, but he did miss his manhood. His brown tip nudged against your slit, tapping against your overstimulated clit as you sucked a sharp breath in. 

”Quit teasing me already!” you grumbled.

The tip of his cock nudged against your overly clit one last time before he finally slid back down and began to slowly sink his cock inside of you.

As he reached deeper inside of you, his grip on your thigh grew, fighting the urge to succumb to his urges right then and there and spill instead of you.

With a grunt, he finally bottoms out before lifting your dress to see how much his cock disappeared instead of you. Moving his hands to part of the globes of your ass, he slid out before jetting his hips back into you, cock pumping inside of you.

He watched your puffy folds, gleam in your arousal as his cock glistened in the fluid as well. You grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing the mound as his pace grew faster. His eyes lapped up the way your body rippled to the beat of his rhyme.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to plunge even deeper inside you as you pressed your forehead against his.

”That’s it, that’s my good girl. Go’on. Show me how good you're taking me,” he huffed, with a grin. His pace grew as his blunt nails dug into your thighs, trying to ground you as your body squirmed against his touch.

”Fuck…fuck…!” you cursed, voice raising octaves in pitch. Boothill pressed his lips against your own, muffling your loudest moan as his tip brushed past the spongy spot inside of you repeatedly. 

Your walls fluttered down— signaling your climax—as your eyes shut tight. You shivered in pleasure as Boothill continued to plow instead of you. 

His hips finally bucked, as a throaty grunt wavered in your ear. Ropes of warm, thick cum shot inside of you as Boothill’s hips slowly jerked, coming down from his high. You leaned over kissing him as he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling.

”I love you. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough,” Boothill admitted. Your gaze softened, brushing a bit of his hair that clung onto his sweaty forehead.

”You don’t need to. I know you do,” you whispered, moving gently to kiss his eyelids. Boothill slid out of your cunt, momentarily admiring the cum leaking out of you. He tucked his softening cock back into his pajamas and moved the bottoms back on his waist properly.

Just as you were about to jump down from the counter, Boothall patted your thigh in defiance.

“Nah, let me clean you up. It’s the least I can do for pouncin’ on you so early,” he murmured. You simply smiled and leaned against the wall as he walked over to the bathroom to get a rag. He quickly came back with it, moving to wipe you down.

”Thank you. Now, for your actual penance, you’ll need to clean the kitchen up after you eat your cold ass food. When you’re done let me know. Maybe we can go to the market and pick up some stuff for dinner.”

Boothill, grabbed your waist to help you down from the counter, smoothing your dress down too.

”Any bit of time with my girls is good. Plus I’m going to have to get something nice as an apology to Aaboli,” he chimed, wrapping his arms around you once more. You quirked your eyebrow up, he knew you were silently wondering why he was so clingy, but he didn’t care.

Whatever miracle this was, he wasn't going to pass this up.

”You sure are. That girl is more like you than you realize.”

Jade smiled as she petted her snake's head with a smile, before hearing a knock at the door.

”Come in,” she called out, not paying much mind. One of her underlings hesitantly opened the door, shyly looking down as they approached her.

”Lady Jade. I have a few concerns about the Boothill project…” the worker admitted.

”Oh? Do explain” Jade smiled, leaning up from her position. The snake slithered, soon making its way to her chair as it wrapped around her shoulders. The worker gulped loudly, slightly shaking as her eyes fell slowly on them.

“How is making a virtual world where he is back with his wife and kid a punishment? That seems like we’re giving him peace than the payback he deserved,” the worker chimed.

There was a pause as Jade’s eyes sized up the lowly worker. The worker yelped and looked back down on the floor.

”A-Apologizes for speaking out of turn. I-I just want to make sure he suffers for his crimes, is all,” they stammered. Jade sighed, smiling.

”Don’t worry, he is. The program we have him in will slowly build down his defenses as our researchers study him, his body, and where we went wrong,” she revealed getting up from her seat. The snake hissed at the worker as they jumped in fear.

She walked up to the worker, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Once that is done, bit by bit will be pulled away from his body, until he can’t properly function anymore and dies. We had a feeling if we didn’t do this, his system would attempt to attack us in some way,” Jade revealed.

 The worker gapped loudly, trying to sputter a response.

”W-What?! How is that possible?” they asked. Jade laughed loudly in amusement. She witnessed firsthand the galaxy ranger’s scroll slowly morphing into a peaceful expression. 

”We already detected a dirty bomb inside of him. I’m sure he was prepared to blow himself up and take me down along with this ship. But he was foiled,” she chimed, beginning to walk by the door, opening it once more.

The worker turned around as she waved her hand, to signal them to leave.

”He wanted his wife and kid so badly, and now he’s with them. Just as hatred clouds the system, love can do the same.”

“I feel safe and sound, on solid ground.”