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doumadono · 2 days

Text

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem!Reader, metal vibrating dick, metal vibrating fingers, semi-public, spanking, fingering, Boothill can’t curse, Boothill calling himself “daddy”, creampie

Synopsis: Boothill had been on a mission for quite some time, and you had missed him dearly. So, when he finally returned, you were bursting with excitement to greet him — and he felt the same way too

A/N: special dedication to my beloved @crystalwolfblog & @shonen-brainrot

OTHER FANDOMS MASTERLIST

In the dim light of the station, the air was thick with the faint scent of rust.

The weeks without Boothill had felt like an eternity, each day dragging on without the comfort of his presence. When his message finally came through, the simple words, "On my way back to the station," sent a jolt of happiness through you that you couldn't contain.

You quickly put on his favorite short skirt and a plain shirt, the anticipation making your hands tremble slightly as you smoothed down the fabric. Your heart raced as you made your way to the hangar, the familiar paths of the station feeling new and exciting again.

As you approached the hangar, you caught sight of him strolling through an empty technical corridor. His confident stride, the glint of metal and the familiar outline of his figure were unmistakable. You didn't hesitate. With a mewl of pure joy, you ran to him, your footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. "Boothill!" you cried, leaping into his arms.

He caught you effortlessly, his strong, mechanical arms wrapping around you with a firm yet gentle grip. "Missed you, darlin'," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine warmth. He peppered your cheeks with kisses, each one soft and lingering, his lips brushing against your skin in a series of tender touches.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent mixed with the metallic tang of his body. "I missed you too," you whispered, your voice muffled against him.

The weeks apart had been difficult, but now, in his arms, everything felt right again.

He put you down, and pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You look beautiful," he said, his gaze roaming over your outfit.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised and very pleased," he replied, his metal fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulders. "You know how to make a guy feel welcome."

His words brought a blush to your cheeks, and you felt a warmth spread through your body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the station. "I couldn't wait to see you," you admitted, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.

Boothill's expression softened, a rare vulnerability showing through his usually confident demeanor. "I couldn't wait to see you either," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Being away was tough, but knowing I'd get to come back to you made it bearable."

He kissed you then, a deep, lingering kiss that spoke of all the longing and desire that had built up during your time apart. His lips moved against yours with a passion that made your knees weak, and you clung to him, pouring all your emotions into the kiss.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

After that, Boothill’s fingers gently traced the curve of your jaw. His touch was cold, yet you didn’t mind in the slightest. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving with the intensity of his desire. "Do you know how much I missed ya, darlin’?" he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that seemed to vibrate through the very air around you.

The words were both a question and a declaration, and your response was caught in your throat, replaced by a soft gasp as his fingers slid into your mouth.

Boothill's lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, the coolness of his body a stark contrast to your own heated flesh. "Shhh," he whispered, his lips curling into a dark, seductive smile. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I want to hear every sound you make," he said, his tone dripping with desire, "But we can't have you wakin’ up the whole station, can we?"

You nodded eagerly in agreement as he trailed open mouthed kisses up the column of your neck.

With a dark, predatory smile, he brought his fingers to your lips, his eyes locked onto yours. “Now, be a good little girl and open your mouth f’me, baby,” Boothill commanded.

You obeyed, parting your lips as his fingers slipped inside. The sensation was strange but exhilarating, his fingers exploring your mouth with a deliberate, teasing slowness.

He watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he pushed deeper, his thumb stroking the outside of your lips in a soothing gesture as his digits hit the back of your throat.

The taste of metal filled your mouth, and you moaned around his fingers, the sound muffled but unmistakable. Your gaze never left him.

Boothill’s eyes darkened with desire, his own breathing growing more ragged as he took in the sight of you, moaning like a pathetic whore, even when he didn’t touch you fully yet. He began to move his fingers, sliding them in and out of your mouth. “Do you like that?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you like the way my fingers feel in your mouth?”

You nodded, your response muffled by his fingers as you sucked on them earnestly.

Boothill’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, and he pushed his metal digits deeper, the sensation intensifying. The taste, the feel, the sheer dominance of the act — it was all driving you wild.

Boothill's free hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. "Good girl," he praised again, his eyes darkening with lust as his free hand cupped and fondled your breasts through the fabric of your shirt.

Your nipples were perky, and it made him grin as he gently pinched one of them.

Before you could respond, his fingers that were fucking your mouth began to vibrate. The sudden, intense sensation caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise. The vibrations sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body, your moans growing louder, more desperate.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" he said, his tone dripping with amusement. Boothill’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you squirm.

You clenched your thighs together, trying to rub them, seeking so much needed friction.

The tension that had built up during the weeks apart seemed to melt away under the gentle pressure of his vibrating fingers against your flexed tongue.

With a deliberate slowness, Boothill withdrew his fingers from your mouth, allowing you to gasp for breath.

Your lips were swollen, your face flushed with desire.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice a low growl.

The authority in his tone left no room for argument, and you obeyed, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Boothill's hands moved to your hips, guiding you into position. The cool metal of his fingers squeezed your ass, possessive and demanding, as he pressed you forward, your chest flattening against the cold wall.

"I want to have my ways with ya, baby," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to be in your cookie so ducking much."

Boothill’s hands slid down your body, his touch firm and possessive. He reached the hem of your short skirt and lifted it, his eyes widening in surprise and delight as he discovered your secret. “Well, well, darlin’,” he drawled, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your bare pussy, your folds already glistening with slickness. “So that’s the reason your scent was so intoxicating and intense today.”

You weren’t wearing any panties. Your cheeks flushed at his words, but there was no time for embarrassment.

Boothill’s fingers moved to unfasten his belt, the metallic clink of his buckle echoing in the quiet corridor. He undid his fly and pushed his pants down to his ankles, revealing his metal member, already hard and glinting in the dim light.

His hands returned to your body, spreading your ass cheeks apart.

You felt the cool air against your warm, slick, exposed pussy, and you gasped, biting into your knuckle.

Boothill’s vibrating fingers teased your entrance, and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. “Fuck…”

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So wet and ready for daddy.” He slid two of his fingers inside you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Your forehead pressed against the cold wall, your hands splayed out for support as you arched your back, offering yourself to him completely.

Boothill’s fingers moved with expert precision, stroking and teasing your warm, spongy walls until you were trembling with need. His thumb was pressed against your clit, rubbing it ever so slightly.

The sound of Boothill's fingers moving in and out of you was a wet, obscene symphony that filled the air with the undeniable evidence of your arousal. Each slick, squelching noise echoed through the quiet corridor, a testament to just how drenched your hole had become under his expert touch.

And you weren’t ashamed in the slightest.

After a few agonizingly pleasurable moments, he withdrew his fingers, slick with your arousal. He brought them to his metal member, spreading your wetness over the shaft as a makeshift lubricant.

You gasped and mewled at the sight, looking at him above your shoulder.

With a predatory grin, Boothill brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your wetness. He hummed in satisfaction, his metal member twitching upwards in anticipation. “Delicious,” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvety whisper. “You taste as good as you smell.”

Boothill positioned himself behind you, the tip of his metal member pressing against your slimy entrance.

The vibrations of his cock were subtle but unmistakable, and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation already.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pushed forward, the metal shaft sliding into you, inch by inch, with a slow, deliberate motion as he guided his metal cock upwards into the opening of your vagina.

When he bottomed out, you moaned in pure ecstasy. His cold, heavy balls pressed tightly against your ass. The combined sensations were overwhelming, and you could feel yourself spiraling out of control. “B-Boothill!”

Boothill groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself completely inside you. “Yeah, darlin’. You feel so freaking good,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight and perfect f’me.”

He began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your entire being. His hands roamed over your body, one hand slipping around you to tease your clit while the other held you firmly in place. The vibrations of his member buried deep inside you, combined with the relentless pace of his thrusts and how painfully your walls had to stretch to accommodate his girth, pushed you closer to the edge.

“Smack me, smack me!" you pleaded urgently. Pressed against the cold wall, your chest flattened more against the unforgiving surface as you could feel every inch of him vibrating inside you, his metal shaft filling you completely.

Boothill grinned widely and gave you a sharp smack on your right cheek, leaving a red mark in the shape of his hand on the meat of your ass.

Your back arched, and you went rigid, a cry strangled in your throat and your pussy spasmed around his cock, gripping it so tight it was almost painful. "Again," you gave a strangled cry. “Fuck, spank me ass again!”

Boothill spanked your ass, this time harder than before. And then he did it again, and again, and again.

Your ass was completely red, and throbbed with a fiery heat, the skin flushed and sensitive from all the spanking.

As Boothill trailed the metal pads of his fingers over your tender cheeks, a sharp jolt of sensation shot through you, causing you to whimper and instinctively jerk upwards.

“Yeah!” you moaned, not caring at all that someone could have heard your desperate sounds. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I’m gonna cum soon.”

As you were pressed against the cold wall while your boyfriend fucked your tight cunny hard, a funny yet strange thought crossed your mind: Boothill, your beloved man, was serving as a good vibrator. The absurdity of the thought made you want to laugh, but the relentless sensations coursing through your body as he kept on fucking you quickly snuffed out any amusement.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Just like that, Booty!” The intensity of his movements was overwhelming, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. “Fuck me hard!”

His metal hips were pistoning into yours, the tip of his metal cock kissing your cervix with each of his thrusts. Boothill’s pace quickened, each thrust more forceful than the last, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you rolled your hips to meet all of his thrusts. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice a dark, possessive whisper. “Every part of you belongs to me.”

The words sent a thrill through you, your body responding to his claim with a shudder of pleasure. You cried out once more, flaring your nostrils, breathing fiercely in and out in quick spurts like a woman in labour easing the pain, trying to relax. Your cunt started gripping and releasing his cock in a fierce rhythm. You were nearing your orgasm.

Boothill’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your warm flesh as he drove his cock into your tight pussy fast enough to push all of the air out of your lungs. The amplified vibrations of his metal member, combined with the force of his thrusts, pushed you to the brink of ecstasy.

“Come for daddy,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Come on my ducking iron rod, darlin’!”

The words were your undoing. With a final, shuddering cry, your pussy pulsated around him, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as your velvety walls clamped convulsively around his metal shaft still buried deep within your drenched hole.

Boothill’s thrusts became sloppy, and his body shuddered against yours as he grunted. With a deep, guttural groan, he reached his own climax.

You felt his metal member twitch inside you as he released his thick seed, the sensation unlike anything you had ever experienced. His semen quickly blended with your runny cum.

Boothill's metal member twitched one final time, shooting the last ropes of cum within you before he began to withdraw.

The sensation of his cock leaving your pussy with a pop sound sent another shiver down your spine, and you gasped, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your shared climax, making you pant loudly. “Oh holy shit…”

As Boothill pulled out, the mixture of your releases began to dribble down your thighs, the combined fluids glistening in the dim light of the corridor. He stood back for a moment, his dark eyes taking in the sight of you — shaking, breathless, and utterly spent. A dark, satisfied smile played on his lips as he watched the evidence of your intense sex trickle down your legs after he cupped your ass cheeks and spread them wider, watching your beautiful, abused pussy still clenching but this time around nothing.

After he pulled his trousers back up and adjusted them, he gave your ass one last spank. "Darlin', you seem distracted," Boothill murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "What’s on your mind?"

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. "I’ve been just thinking... how you're really good at... multitasking," you managed to say, improving your hair and pulling your skirt down. “I didn’t know your fingers could vibrate too.”

Boothill chuckled, the sound a low, mechanical rumble coming deep within his chest. "Well, darlin', I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "Glad to see you're enjoyin' the multitasking." He leaned in closer, pecking your cheek, and moving to your ear to whisper, "Those fingers can do a lot more than just vibrate, you know. But now that I’m back, I aim to show you every last one of their talents."

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days

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@thelightofmylife wouldn’t it be funny if I decided to reread your entire HSR writing list again (I in fact did)… lolol <3 I’m still thinking about your response to me btw. You’re very kind 💖💞💗 truly I can’t get enough of your writing and I suppose kind words

No pressure to do this request if you don’t want to, you can also take this ask as an invitation to chat too

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

ahh! I was thinking ,,,, Sunday + Aventurine + Jing Yuan… and anyone else you would personally want to do …!! Giving them headpats because you love them soooo much!!! And receiving or asking for headpats in trade … <3 i think it’s a universal thing that headpats are <33 so good and lovely and good for showing love ;w;’ <3

Jing Yuan will gladly accept your head pats, he finds your beaming face adorable as you gently patted his head as though you were being extremely cautious with how you gave him head pats.

He recognises it as your primary display of love after awhile and would create a routine where he would just sit himself in front of you, claim that he was meditating, and closes his eyes and waits until he felt you begin to pat him on the head and mutter ‘soft floofy hair’ under your breath as he fights back the urge to smile.

You really do want his heart and he didn’t want to go back to a reality where he did not know the power of your comforting head pats.

Someone could’ve been looking for him about something serious and when they’ve enter the room, they are greeted to the sight of him him dozing off all the while getting treated to some well deserved head pats from you.

A bird popped out of his hair once during a headpat session and you were scared off of giving him head pats for a while in fear of having another tiny bird fly out from his hair. Jing Yuan was a sad man that day and would stop fucking pouting until Yanquing asked you to put him out of his misery and give Jing Yuan his head pats, he couldn’t train with a moody general who didn’t get his daily head pats.

Jing Yuan wasn’t afraid of giving out headpats of his own. He gave Yanquing a couple in the past but he used them sparingly. You however, you could have as many headpats as you’d like from him and Jing Yuan wouldn’t complain, especially not as he got the chance to watch you melt under his touch to the point you were practically cuddled into his side with a look of pure content written across your face.

So if he were to see that you weren’t having the best of days he’d immediately start giving you headpats in hopes of making you feel better. Jing Yuan’s logic was that seeing as how your headpats always helped make his day just that little bit brighter. Jing Yuan could only hope that he could pay it forward to you in a way that let you know that he would always have your back, always.

Aventurine leans into your hand as you give him head pats and closing his eyes as he enjoyed any amount of affection you decided to give him.

He needed this, he really did.

At first he was afraid of what the implication meant but now, he would practically sprawl himself across your lap and silently wait until you were done with what you were doing to give him some head pats, whining that you don’t pay enough attention to him.

He wasn’t use to such gentle, loving touch such as yours and now that he’s gotten a taste, he’s become addicted and would always find a way to get you to give him head pats no matter what. He would ask but Aventurine felt as though he was only worth them when he’s done something to earn such affection.

He viewed everything as a transaction and your headpats were no different.

Until you told him one day that he didn’t have to ever ask to receive love and affection, at least not with you and that you would gladly give him headpats just for waking up.

Aventurine cried that night in your arms as you gave him soft, comforting headpats.

Now aventurine demands headpats for practically everything but you didn’t mind as you were more than happy to spend hours on end if it meant spending time with your lover and reassuring him of your love for him. It heals apart of him that he didn’t know needed healing before, you heal him with your unwavering kindness and compassion and he didn’t know how the appropriate way to thank you, other then to give you some headpats himself.

Aventurine’s headpats were soft, gentle, Alamo as though he was scared he was going to hurt you but they were reassuring and encouraging at the same time that made you feel as though you could move mountains.

His headpats were like a silent ‘I love you’ for a singular reason.

He would pat your head three times and linger there for a couple of seconds then patting your head three more times before repeating this a couple more times, even going as far as to adding in a couple of kisses to your face in between. He loved hearing you laugh but he loved it when you shown signs of being comfortable, being safe with him as that was all he wants was to make you feel safe and happy with him because that’s how you made him feel on a daily basis.

Sunday finds your need to give him head pats amusing and will gladly let you do so to your hearts content if it brings you so much joy.

It doesn’t matter if he was busy because Sunday will always make room for you and you head pats no matter what, and will stress the importance to his staff that a specific time slot remains reserved for you and only you because your head pats were pure magic to the Halovian.

His wings would flutter softly and in time with your head pats that you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute the sight was as Sunday tries to get them to stop, but ultimately just accepts that his wings had a mind of their own when it came to you and how reciprocal they were to your touch.

He defiantly needs them after a hard days work and will most defiantly collapse on your lap, wings drooping like a pair of dog ears in tandem to express his exhaustion, and sigh as he felt you begin to softly pat his head.

‘You’ve done amazing today honey.’ You tell him.

‘Thank you my dearest but all I want to do now is relax with you if that’s quite alright with you.’ Sunday said tired and you couldn’t deny him when he was like this, and for the rest of the afternoon you spent cuddled up with Sunday and giving him head pats as his wings tried to match with the pace of your pats.

Sunday does reward you with headpats of your own but they may not come as frequently as you might like but you understood that he was a busy man, when you do get your headpats its mainly when you were on the brink of falling asleep, so often times it felt like a dream. Sunday wishes he could give you as many headpats as you’d like but giving you them while you were half asleep was for the best.

Bonus: when he’s cuddling you from behind, his wings will try and give you headpats but end up hitting the sides of your face, so somethings you’d wake up to a pair of soft grey wings softly smacking you first thing in the morning.

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