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akutasoda · 23 hours

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in the morning light

synopsis - what it's like sharing a bed with them

includes - aventurine, gallagher, sunday, robin, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, i have no clue what im doing, might be ooc, wc - 1.2k

a/n: i have absolutely no clue what this is... im trying to write requests but i feel weirdly rusty and so i needed to do something random and well... this is it i guess?

aventurine ★↷

↪he has settled for a very long time to have bare minimum as his bed, practically nothing in some cases, and so now he over indulges himself. we've all seen the official art and the animation, he has one of the comfiest beds known.

↪anything you need, he's got it for you no questions asked or thought about. he does care quite abit about how he presents himself so he has quite the nightly routine but it's not that extensive, so if you wish to do yours alongside he wouldn't mind one bit.

↪naturally a light sleeper - the slightest sound or movement can wake him. aventurine is also quite prone to frequent nightmares which cause him to wake up in a cold sweat everytime. he doesn't wish to burden you however and so he tries to keep his movements to a minimum when your beside him.

↪he doesn't say anything but he always loves it when you wrap your arms around him and let him rest his head on your chest. it's very comforting to him. he feels safe in your arms and listening to your heartbeat brings him that reassurance that you are real and there for him.

↪unfortunately due to his work he can get very early morning calls which cause him to wake up early and begrudgingly leave you behind - he'd never wake you but places a kiss on your forehead before leaving. however if he has the day off, he becomes extremely clingly and refuses to move and further intertwines his body with yours.

gallagher ★↷

↪as a bloodhound, he doesn't normally stay the whole night as he might be called out to deal with whatever problem penacony has then. this can feed into a reluctance to join you in bed as he knows he wouldn't be able to leave if he did so.

↪he isn't one that cared about comfort or a good night sleep, so his bed was always bare minimum with one or two pillows and a blanket. although if you're one for more than he wouldn't mind buying anything you wanted to add.

↪doesn't really have a bedtime routine. most of the time he gets straight home from work and is very content to just collapse onto the bed beside you without even changing. most of his routine is spent in the morning trying to make himself look a bit more presentable for the day - he is very prone to drastic bed hair.

↪if he knows he wont be called out or has the next day off, he will happily join you in bed and becomes dead to the world. can be a very heavy sleeper if he knows he can allow himself to be.

↪gallagher can also be extremely clingy - on purpose. he enjoys holding you in his arms knowing that he can protect you and keep you close. so good luck if you have places to be because gallagher will have you in a tight bear hug which he won't let up any time soon.

sunday ★↷

↪he is normally very busy as the head of the oak family but he knows how important it is to keep up with things like sleeping to be able to actually function, so he tries his hardest but does has a tendency to put work first.

↪that being said, he does have a very high standard when it comes to his actual bed - he's sort of a mix because he likes having the comfiest things but he wouldn't complain otherwise. therefore he can be very accommodating to your needs.

↪he cares about his public appearance very much and so he has a very quick but efficient nightime and morning routine, he doesn't like spending time on such trivial matters but he needs to look pristine. sometimes if you're lucky enough you can see his wings looking very disheveled in the morning.

↪he probably didn't like the idea of sharing a bed to start with but he'd warm up to the idea much further into the relationship. although he isn't exactly one for cuddles, he much prefers that you have your own seperate sides of the bed - he'd be rather insistent on having his space.

↪sometimes you'd forget he's sleeping beside you. he barely moves at all and stays way too still to the point that you get a little weirded out, the only sign that he's still loving is the occasional flutter of his wings.

↪gets up super early. like way too early but he doesn't press you to get up at the same time unless you have somewhere to be. even if he doesn't have anywhere to be he gets up early because it's a habit for him.

robin ★↷

↪she can be equally as busy as her brother but most of the time she'd love nothing more than to end her day cuddled up beside you - her daily schedule can be much more accommodating to having a healthy sleep schedule.

↪as a very popular singer, she does need to keep up her appearance and so she has a very extensive and detailed nightime routine that she doesn't mind you joing her for if you wished. same goes for her morning routine.

↪robin is quite used to having many things and that translates into her bed as it has very fluffy blankets and lots of pillows. although she doesn't mind changing a few things if that isn't exactly your style.

↪a surprisingly light sleeper but she can move around quite a bit in her sleep. not exactly drastic movements but more small scale actions to readjust herself very often. she can be a massive cuddle bug so sometimes she does accidentally move you around with her.

boothill ★↷

↪chasing one bounty after another doesn't leave much room for somebody to lay low and have a proper rest. being a cyborg doesn't really help that case either as he doesn't exactly need to sleep to function - does he even need to recharge?

↪boothill really only started caring about sleep or 'recharging' when you came along. that being said, he doesn't exactly have a permanent place to stay so you might have to accommodate a cyborg into your room - but he is very adaptable and respectful of your space.

↪it becomes a moment for you two just to relax and unwind, he no longer has to worry about anything and can spend his time holding you. he probably can 'sleep' as a way to recharge but he becomes like a log and doesn't move at all until he's ready to go.

↪he does have a love hate relationship with having care routines, i do believe that he probably values his hair alot as it's the only remaining part of him from his life as a human but other than that he only looks after the rest of himself to make sure he doesn't malfunction.

↪he doesn't dare wake you unless you've specifically asked him too. so sometimes you may wake up to see him staring at you but you would learn to deal with that...

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @teddirika, @frankiesteinn

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azullumi · 2 days

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JESUS, TAKE THE WHEEL ?!

premise — to put it simply, hsr men driving. characters — boothill, sunday, aventurine, veritas ratio, jing yuan, and blade content tags — small mentions of reader, probably fluff, not proofread, i don't know how to tag this please | wc: 0.6k ; headcanons

note from me — this idea was brought to me after nearly crashing and getting multiple heart attacks while my dad was driving

BOOTHILL, races with the wind that it feels like you left your soul somewhere in the road—literally a wild spirit who seems to enjoy the feeling of the breeze on his skin. He probably got you lost one time too, or maybe twice, or thrice. He just loves fast cars and faster chases, likes the thrill of it (much to your dismay if you’re a cautious person). He’s probably cussed someone out for cutting him off his lane which led to him nearly crashing when he pressed the brakes suddenly. Despite his reckless driving habits, his quick thinking and reflexes keeps him out of harm.

SUNDAY, perfect law-abiding citizen—follows the traffic rules, doesn’t go past the speed limit, never crashes, never gets pulled over, you’re in the safest hands and you can trust the entirety of your life on him. You have a good road trip, a great driver, and someone who you can easily talk to. It’s perfect. He probably has a playlist ready with the most of it being his sister’s songs, playing and listening to it as he drives, often humming along with the melody.

AVENTURINE, drives like there’s no tomorrow when he’s alone but drives like the most responsible and careful driver whenever there’s someone with him in the car. He likes driving during the night despite the risk of it (and that’s honestly the point); he does love the quiet streets and the solitude he gets, taking long drives to often clear his mind or just drive somewhere where he wants to be, often taking the scenic route. There are times that he drives in complete silence, deep in thought, and taking random turns.

VERITAS RATIO, just your normal and average sane driver. Literally it’s all just normal with him that it feels so wrong. He’s quite the careful driver but is easily annoyed when someone cuts off his lane and you’ll have to deal with a rambling doctor that calls people who have no driving etiquettes foolish and reckless. He strictly follows the rules of the road, but doesn’t hesitate in voicing out his frustrations at those who don’t. Other than that, everything is fine. He rarely listens to music, however, opting to listen to educational podcasts or the radio instead—he says it helps in keeping him focused.

JING YUAN, bold of you to even assume he’s driving; he doesn’t drive, or he rarely does. He’s a passenger princess, a shotgun queen, the backseat sleeper,—preferring to sleep on his seat than focus his eyes on the road. If he ever drives, however, it’s slow and careful. He’ll reason that there’s nothing to rush for and that you all have the time in the world, and you don’t know if you’re supposed to accept his reasoning, especially when you’re going to be late. The chance of him falling asleep while driving is higher than the chance of arriving at your destination early (a 10-minute drive easily becomes a 30-minute one and no, it’s not because of the traffic).

BLADE, believe it or not but he’s, if not the most, but one of the trusted drivers. While he does go past the speed limit sometimes and maybe he does have to swerve the car that you’ll fly off your seat (if not without your seatbelt) ever so often, you never die while he’s the one on the driver seat—thankfully. Surprisingly, he does wear his seatbelt and even urges you to wear yours (even if he didn’t, you’ll have to because you have nothing else to hold on to). The most silent car ride to ever exist though as he’ll only speak when you’ll ask him something, otherwise you’re left on your own with a conversation in the wind. Nevertheless, you’ll arrive at your destination in one piece. Not until the mara strikes.

FELIIII, a lovely mention to the beautiful and lovely @dr-felitas !! i'm getting back to writing now since i'm back from vacation (which means i can do anything and everything i want, but not including ghosting 🔥) ANYWAYS i would like to say thank you for always being patient with me and my replies ,, like my bad g 🙏 i really appreciate your presence in my life and your constant understanding, and i know i already told you this but you're a very warm and comforting person and i only hope for the best things to come in your life (i know love and beauty exists because you exist and you're full of it). i will support you in each and every one of your decisions, despite how bad or stupid it can be. don't let anything hold you back boo, never listen to your haters or your opps 🗣, you're still young and you have all the time in the world to experience meaningful moments (even heartbreaking ones). so go talk to that girl bae <33 no matter what happens, i'll always be here for you. ily lots mwaaaa

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elixrr · 2 days

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He trusts you. Over the course of your friendship, he built an unforgettable bond with you, one that was meant to last forever– and, really, it could've. It should've, he's not gullible, nor is he naive. He hardly trusts anybody, so you're a rare case— perhaps you're his final and lucky case where he can have somebody else sit with them, shoulder to shoulder, and no mask would have to be up. You're his best friend; you're his lover. You're the shoulder he can lean on, sleep on, lay on, cry on, and that's something that he hasn't had for several years.

Towards the start of your friendship, he didn't exactly see you as a friend, you were more of an acquaintance than anything. You were almost set to be treated by him the same way that he'd treat anybody else. He kept you at arms length, he kept his distance for a while.

Yet, you began to close that distance. You began to slither past his arm, growing closer to him. You were willing, and that's absolutely why you both should've been a lifetime bond.

But now you're being rushed to the emergency room— a head injury, something severe. You're unconscious, terribly injured from the fall, but you're lucky to be alive. He's lucky to have you alive, but now he waits. He waits, waits, and waits for his only trust, his only other shoulder, his only love, and he hopes that you can wake up soon.

You eventually and successfully did. You were in a coma for about a week, but you've finally opened your eyes. You're awake— you're alive! By the Archons and Aeons, that's all that matters to him.

“W– Where am I?” You mutter, eyes finally fluttering with consciousness. Typical question, probably always asked. He watches the doctors explain everything to you.

He watches your eyes as they flicker from one person to the next. One doctor, another, the last one— then to him. A smile nearly graces his face, but your eyes are taken back to begin the cycle again. That doctor to the next, then to that one doctor, then on him, and rinse and repeat. You glance at him as he stares at you, and it's as if he was just one extra person in the room, just one other doctor— out of uniform, though. As if you were saved by him, too, under his care, but your glances are as distant as they are for the other doctors.

Your gaze is unrecognizable. His is the same as ever.

“Who are... You guys?” You ask. ‘Who are you?’ is and would've been fine as long as you looked at somebody that wasn't him, but he's not gullible; he's not naive, and that's the thing. He immediately realizes that you don't recognize him.

He says your name without thinking.

“Do you...” He hesitates, but pursues. “Do you remember me?”

“No, sorry? Have we met before?” The words are fluent, so you didn't hesitate—

—so you don't remember him.

“Amnesia?” One of the doctors mutters, and that's when he realizes that it's all over for him.

He doesn't have another shoulder. He doesn't have a best friend. He doesn't have a lover.

He doesn't have you anymore.

He looks at you, and you look at him. Your eyes are finally fixed onto each other, but you're so distant, so far away from him now. You're both in the same room, but an unavoidable and terrifying distance is built between you two.

“What's your name, then?” You still ask.

The distance shortens. Are you still willing?

“You seem... really upset that I can't remember you. Maybe if you tell me your name, I can remember you?”

Are you really still willing?

He says his name.

“That's a nice name. Sorry, I can't remember, but I'll try.”

“You're willing?” He blurts.

“Of course.” You half-smile.

A sad grin grows on his face. He still loves you— he can feel it deep down inside. You don't remember him. You probably don't even remember any of those special memories you two created that had made the both of you the duo you were, but a smile still adorns his face regardless. You're alive.

And you're still willing.

And, because of that, your bond could last a lifetime.

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yuutx · 13 hours

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 . . (𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒟𝒜𝒴)

sunday x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ creampie ﾉ cunnilingus ﾉ established relationship ﾉ loss of virginity ﾉ sex for pregnancy ﾉ clit play ﾉ size kink ﾉ domestic fluffy smut ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ proofread ! ૮꒰ ´ ` ഒ ა

first time writing 4 da hubby ! i read 'n read dis over 'n over again 2 make sure it was perfect ! i must say, 'm rllie proud of myself 4 writing dis fic,, i spent alooottt of time on it, 'n the sex is so beautifully described 'n so different 2 m' other fics ! in terms of da actual writing itself, i fink dis is m' fav . . art credits go to @/timelyjade on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Puffy, sticky folds glistened in the dim light, so plump and tender that Sunday couldn’t help but drool in anticipation. You lay spread on the ruffled sheets, your skirt crumpled around your hips, panties tossed haphazardly to the side, the swollen petals of your womanhood open to his eyes.

Sunday leaned in, taking in a deep breath, drinking in the scent of your sex as his mouth watered, a shiver running through him at the sheer, intoxicating aroma. His hands trailed over your soft thighs, squeezing and massaging them before pulling your legs apart, exposing your glistening folds and puckering rosebud further to his gaze.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of his breath against your heated core, squirming on the bed and whimpering as he nuzzled your inner thighs, leaving trails of kisses and bites in his wake. He nipped and kissed his way up your legs, slowly making his way towards the main event, his lips finally coming to rest against your dripping cunt, his tongue immediately coming out to lap at the plump folds, moaning softly. The small wings on the back of his head fluttered and twitched as his tongue snaked its way between the flesh, teasing the sensitive skin and indulging in the honey that flowed from you, before slipping inside and thrusting slowly.

Your moans filled the air as Sunday ate you out with enthusiasm, his tongue twisting and curling against your inner walls, exploring every inch and crevice of your hot core, tasting and savoring the sweet flavor of your arousal, his face buried in your pussy. He moaned against you, sending pleasant vibrations into your very core, the feeling intensified by the soft fluttering of his wings that tickled your inner thighs. His head bobbed back and forth, the wet noises of his oral ministrations adding to the symphony of sound in the room, your moans and gasps blending together in a beautiful harmony that only served to increase his desire for you.

He continued his feast, your fingers curled in his spun pearl hair, your nails raking across his scalp and pulling him in closer, your back arching into his touch as he licked and suckled your gorgeous clit, his hands massaging your hips. Your thighs tightened around his head, muffling his moans and hissing as he sucked hard on your nub, before letting it go with a loud, wet pop, his face glistening with your slick. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the lust and desire swirling within them, the way they shimmered and shone with a beauty that no words could ever truly describe only served to stoke the fire in your loins, a shiver running down your spine as you held his gaze.

Sunday leaned back, his slender fingers stroking your slick soaked labia, spreading them open and exposing your quivering entrance to the cool air. "Be a dear and turn around for me." His voice was like liquid velvet, soft and smooth, and the way he spoke the words made your heart race. You couldn't resist obeying his every command, rolling over and sticking your ass into the air, your thighs spread open and trembling in anticipation. He licked his lips, the sight of your plump cheeks and quivering holes causing his cock to twitch and stiffen, his manhood already fully erect and standing tall in the confinement of his pants. He quickly shed his clothes, his jacket and shirt discarded to the floor, his pants and undergarments quickly following suit, leaving him as naked as the day he was born.

His member twitched as he took in the sight of you, bent over and exposed to him, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his fingers teased and toyed with your swollen folds, your slick smearing across his digits as they slid between the fleshy petals. He took his cock in his other hand, stroking it slowly as he watched your juices trickle down his fingers, his eyes fixated on the lewd display before him, his shaft throbbing and pulsating with desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as the hot, swollen tip pressed against your sopping cunt, a low groan escaping his lips as he pushed his hips forward, slowly burying himself within you, the wet squelching of your inner walls parting to accommodate his girth filling the room. Your fingers dug into the sheets as you felt him stretch you out, inch by glorious inch, his thickness forcing its way inside and rubbing against your most sensitive parts. His hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft skin, his breath hitching as he sank deeper and deeper, your tight, warm insides embracing his manhood, molding themselves to his shape.

The sound of his sac slapping against your folds echoed throughout the chamber, the force of his thrusts causing your breasts to sway beneath you. His member glistened in the candlelight, coated with your nectar, his hips pistoning back and forth as he ravaged you from behind, his wings fluttering wildly, his hair billowing about him as he fucked you into the bed. His pace was relentless, his movements frantic and desperate, the pleasure coursing through him driving him on as he pounded into you. He had yearned for this moment for so long, had waited patiently for you to be ready, and now that the time had come, he was determined to savor every second of it, every second of the sweet, sinful sensation of your body against his.

You cried out in ecstasy, your hands fisting in the sheets, your face buried in the pillows as he pummeled you, the bed squeaking and rocking beneath the force of his passion, your bodies moving in perfect unison, writhing and twisting together. His name spilled from your lips, a breathless moan that he drank in like the sweetest ambrosia, his own voice rising to join yours, the two of you lost in a sea of bliss and euphoria. Your vision blurred, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your orgasm swept over you, your walls clenching and convulsing around his shaft, milking him for all he was worth.

His body went rigid, his muscles tensing as his seed rushed forth, spurting into you in hot, sticky waves, his essence mingling with yours, mixing together to create something even more beautiful than either of you could have imagined. You gasped as you felt his load fill you, his warmth flooding your womb, the wasted sperm trickling down your thighs, the sheer volume of his ejaculation leaving no doubt in your mind that his seed would take root within you, a new life blooming from the union of your love.

His chest heaved as he pulled out, his softening length flopping against himself, the mixture of his cum and yours oozing out of you, the evidence of your tryst leaking onto the bed. His mini wings drooped, the exhaustion of his exertions setting in, but he didn't care, for nothing could diminish the joy he felt at finally being one with the woman he loved. He collapsed next to you, his arms wrapping around the angelic figure that was his beloved, his chin resting on your shoulder as he gazed into your eyes, the two of you sharing a smile of pure, unadulterated happiness, knowing that nothing could ever separate you now.

#૮ Ꮚ◞ ˔ ◟Ꮚა 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭 . .⠀˙⠀⠀꒱#sunday smut #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #yandere sunday #honkai star rail yandere #sunday headcanons #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail headcanons

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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 1 day

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𝙀𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙬

synopsis: after being away and entertaining others, your husband decides to give you a special something

wrd cnt: 1.1k

tags: cunnalingus, oral, penetration, doggy, vulgar, praise, explicit

a/n: if you couldn’t tell been having major writers block + no time to write but this one reeled me back in a bit so i hope you enjoy <3

It was late at night by the time you got home. The house had been quiet all evening, save for the soft hum of your laptop as you explored some new music. But now that the sun had set, there were no more distractions—just the sound of your own breathing, the whirring blade of the fan above your head, and the occasional creak of floorboards beneath your feet.

You heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps coming down the hallway towards the living room where you sat on the couch. Your eyes widened when you saw who it was.

“Sunday!” You exclaimed, jumping up and running over to him. He looked incredible, even if he was clearly exhausted from working all day. His face was flushed red with desire, and his black suit pants hung lower on his hips than usual, as his belt was quite undone just as his tie.

“Y/n-,” he said, leaning down to kiss you deeply before pulling away. “I missed you…quite dearly”

You replied breathlessly in agreeance, taking his hand and leading him over to sit beside you on the couch. As soon as he sat down, he pulled you into his lap and started kissing your neck hungrily.

“Mmm... I love how good you tastes,” he murmured against your skin as he moved lower down your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples until they hardened under his touch.

To say you were surprised was an understatement, your husband was always quite well mannered, and in control especially of himself.

Before you could express this pleasant concern, be continued further down, pushing your body down and stopping his peppering of kisses just above your waistband.

“Please don’t stop...” You begged softly. “Keep going...”

He chuckled darkly as he pulled your bottoms down, revealing your pretty laced panties.

“Such a naughty girl,” he whispered seductively. “you know happens when you tease me like that, don’t you?”

With those words still ringing in your ears, he slid his hands around to the front of your panties and began teasing them apart until they fell down around your ankles; now placed on each of his shoulders.

His soft hands spread your legs wide apart and leaned forward to lick along the length of your slit.

“Ohh... yes... keep doing that...” You moaned, feeling yourself growing wetter than ever before.

“Mmmm... such a tasty little thing,” he purred, moving one finger inside you while continuing to lap at your clit with his tongue. “Feels good hm? You’re dripping…” He smirked, slipping a second finger inside you, curling them up and down faster this time. “How does that feel baby?” He asked, before returning to suck your swollen pearl.

“So good... oh god... more-...” You panted, arching your back slightly to allow him better access to you.

“Like this?” He whispered, increasing the speed of his movements until he felt you begin to tremble against him.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!-” You cried out loudly, throwing your head back against the couch cushions as pleasure washed through every part of your body.

As if sensing your impending climax, he suddenly stopped moving his fingers altogether and instead focused solely on licking and sucking at your clit. With waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body, you squirmed uncontrollably.

“Oh my god... yes... right there...” You gasped, grinding yourself against him as best you could while trying not to fall off the couch entirely.

“Mmmmm... I knew you liked this,” he chuckled wickedly, pushing you down onto the couch once again. “Now let me show you something else.”

With those words still echoing in your mind, he stood up and placed a knee inbetween your legs, slowly pushing into you as he got close to you. Grabbing your hand, he gave you hold of his erection, stroking himself with your hand slowly up and down several times before letting you do it yourself.

“What do you think of that?” He asked teasingly. “See what you do to me?”

“Mhm….,” you answered quietly with a small nod, feeling yourself grow hungrier than ever before.

As if he couldn’t waste another second, he dragged you up and pushed your body against the couch, feeling his chest heavy against your back as your breasts pressed up against the fabric of the apolstry.

“Fuck I missed you-“ He says, slowly dragging his cock up and down your folds as you hear his shaky breath.

“Sunday- please…” You mewl, pushing yourself back into him.

“Use your words, my love.” He breathes against your ear.

You groan in annoyance at his teasing.

He chuckles, and then thrusts his thick cock into your tight, wet heat.

It was like a drug, every movement of his hips, every touch of his hand, every inch of his skin against yours was ecstacy.

After a few moments, his pace becomes steady, and soon enough his hips are snapping furiously against yours.

You moan and writhe beneath him, clawing desperately at the sofa beneath you.

He lets out a deep growl and slams his hands down on either side of your head.

His grip tightens as he pounds into you harder and harder, causing your body to shake uncontrollably.

The friction of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy combined with the roughness of his thrusts and the force of his hands against your body, made you see stars.

Your mouth hangs open and your eyes roll back, as you arch your back and thrust your hips upwards, meeting his thrusts eagerly.

Your fingers dig into his biceps, gripping onto him tightly.

With each passing second, you could feel your orgasm building within you, threatening to tear through you any moment now.

You knew that this wasn't going to last much longer.

"Fuck- I'm so close…," you cry out, throwing your head back.

His hand reaches up and grabs your throat, squeezing tightly, and pulling you closer to him.

His thrusts grow even more powerful, and you gasp as he slams his cock deep inside you.

"Come for me then, my darling," he purrs into your ear, his voice low and husky.

He releases his grip on your neck and moves his hand down to grip your ass firmly.

You whimper and writhe beneath him, unable to hold back any longer.

"Fuck-!" You scream, throwing your head back once more and letting the orgasm rip through you.

His cock slides in and out of you faster and faster, as his movements become more erratic.

His fingers dig into your ass as he pulls you even closer, thrusting into you one final time before he explodes inside you.

His hips slow their frantic rhythm as he groans and grunts into your ear, his seed filling you up completely; leaving you tilted over the cushions and wrecked.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #hsr smut #hsr sunday #sunday smut #sunday hsr #hsr fic #sunday imagines #sunday honkai star rail #sunday headcanons #sunday hsr smut #hsr imagines #hsr x you #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x y/n

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dr-felitas · 1 day

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I KNOW LOVE EXISTS BECAUSE YOU'RE FULL OF IT

synopsis: they’re full of tenderness, adoration, love or this one tiktok trend that goes like “i know love exists because my friends are full of it.”

pairing: aventurine, sunday, robin, topaz x reader (separate) | wc: 1.8k | content & warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing kissing and kissing, aventurines drabble is totally not inspired by one of my old posts..(it's literally the same), petnames in robins, usage of dummy (sarcastic) in robins, lmk if there's more ^^ ; headcanon + drabble

a/n: “love” is replaced by a synonym or another word cause i thought it’d get too boring and repetitive lmfao, ALSO happy pride!!

“i know yearning exists because AVENTURINE is full of it.”

there isn't a single time of the day where aventurine doesn't long to be by your side.

aventurine doesn’t make it obvious but he can be a clingy lover.

he has a habit of tightly holding onto you wherever the two of you are, be it in the morning when the two of you still lie in bed and aventurine holds your waist, when the two are out in public and aventurine grips your hand so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd.

there are times during work where he’s bored and starts taking notice of certain things that you’d like or that remind him of you. he writes them down in his notes app to later on tell you about them.

first thing in the morning: checking up on you. first thing to do at work: checking up on you. first thing he does when he comes home: checking up on you.

when he comes home and you don’t greet him at the door and finds you in the kitchen preparing dinner, he wraps his arms around your waist and watches you as you cook.

at the beginning aventurine was quite hesitant and reluctant when it came to initiating physical touch, the concept of a committed relationship was still new to him, a relationship where he have to open up and actually be himself - being vulnerable.

so in the first months it’s nothing but longing glances as his fingers itch to touch you but he knows that if he will, he’ll cross a border which he’ll never be able to go back to.

eventually he starts to link your pinkies together, holding onto yours tightly so you don’t slip out of his grasp. those small touches later turn into morning kisses and back at home kisses, hand squeezes, brushing your hand through the other's hair or begging the other to not go to work.

it’s early in the morning and you know that aventurine has to go to work, but you just can't help but be greedy. eagerly grasping for his wrist, as you beg him not to leave yet and just stay for another five minutes.

your voice is laced with morning drowsiness and the grip you have on his wrist is sluggish - nevertheless your eyes are full of determination to not let him go and keep him by your side.

he's grown accustomed to your little antics now, it's basically become a habit for the both of you to laze in bed a bit longer. but who is he to complain - after all how could he resist you when you ask him so nicely?

internally, he’s glad that he isn’t the only among the two of you who yearns for the other one.

“i know sincerity exists because TOPAZ is full of it.”

topaz’s words, actions, gestures, in her opinion, aren’t enough - they’ll never be enough to express her love for you.

topaz is a very dedicated lover.

she’s is always making sure to assure and reassure you that she loves you, be it verbally with compliments and praises, physically by showering you with much affection, cuddles and kisses on your temple before work or materialistically with gifts such as new jewelry, your favorite sweet treat, new mechanical pencils. the list goes on.

lies are unknown to her, topaz always keeps her word. your dates are 8pm sharp on saturday with her picking you up. she promised to go to the new cat café you’ve been eyeing? bet, she’s taking numby with you guys.

on her days off work or weekends, topaz always wakes up early and makes sure to prepare you a delicious breakfast and bring it to you in bed. it varies from sweet meals like waffles topped with berries and crêpes glazed in melted chocolate to savory breakfasts like sourdough fried in olive oil and topped with an avocado and a poached egg or congee.

when buying flower bouquets (which became a weekly habit), she always makes sure to keep one flower to herself, so when it wilts, she knows it’s time to purchase a new one and place it in the shiny glass vase on your coffee table.

topaz always wakes 5 minutes up earlier than her alarm just so she can admire you for a little while longer before having to go to work. she lies next to you and just fiddles with your fingers, kissing the knuckles of your palms and tracing your ring finger (just by doing that she’s able to find out the perfect measurements for your future wedding band) and brushing the strands of hair that cover your face, away.

you’re so perfect.

topaz can only stare at you in adoration as you peacefully slumber. to think that she used to wake up alone with no one besides perhaps numby by her side, it’s ironic to think about it now.

she searches for your hand beneath the covers and quickly finds it, swiftly lacing your hands together as she brings your hand closer to her face. the back of your hand finds her lips and she presses warm kisses against your knuckles before smiling into your hand. she couldn’t be any luckier.

topaz is reminded that this isn’t a dream but reality - her reality with you. she hopes that her mornings will continue like this, with birds chirping outside her windows and tendrils of sunshine peeking through the curtains as they shine on your beautiful face.

she hopes that this reality will be her future, her shared future with you.

“i know devotion exists because SUNDAY is full of it.”

if sunday had to devote himself to someone it'd be none other than you.

sunday is a committed lover.

you might call him whipped - head over heels even.

he’s prepared for every occurrence that might be happening. it’s raining heavily? he pulls out an umbrella to shield you, carefully inching it closer to you so that you don’t get wet, even if it means that his clothes will later on be slightly soaked. your feet are sore from walking with your shoes? he’s prepared and brought an additional pair of shoes in case you’d start feeling tired. you forgot to bring your wallet and can’t pay for your meal? sunday will cover it! (he was going to pay anyway, there’s no way he’d let you pay.)

the type of guy that excuses himself to go to the toilet but then goes to the receptionist and pays.

when in public and he notices that your shoes are untied he gets on one of his knees, staining his trousers with dirt as he ties the laces of your shoes back together, before standing up once again and brushing off the dirt of his clothes and taking out wet wipes to clean his hands before reaching out his hand to you.

sunday is willing to learn anything and everything about your interests. it starts off with carefully listening to you as you talk about them to later on researching them in books and the internet and perhaps even people who’re educated in this topic. just so he can later bring it up and see you happily ranting about it as he intently listens.

“have you heard about the new discussion that’s going on.” sunday shows you his phone which is currently displaying a post about one of your favorite topics which makes you smile in delight.

“actually no! i haven’t heard of this yet. show it to me please.” you plead as you look at him with a bright grin. “you know, you don’t have to ask.” sunday hums contently before handing you his phone and picking up his book again, licking the tip of his finger to turn the page as he watches you intently reading the article, smiling as you turn to him to point out something that caught your attention.

“i know compassion ROBIN exists because is full of it.”

if you’d offer robin to take all your pain away and place it upon her, she would accept. not hesitating for a split second and immediately accepting.

robin is an empathic and understanding lover.

she always brings you small trinkets and souvenirs, like magnets to put on your shared fridge or colorful keychains for you guys’ apartment, from her concerts and tours on other planets. reasoning it by saying that: “it reminded me of you.”

she adores addressing you with terms of endearments like sweetheart, love, beloved etc. that when she doesn’t you’re confused if you did something wrong.

when robin notices you being anxious, she carefully intertwines your hands together and softly squeezes your palm as an attempt to calm you down. she languidly traces shapes, circles, stars, hearts on the back of your hand to soothe your worries and ease your anxiety.

^ she also massages your muscles or back when they’re sore before wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing the crook of your neck.

her kisses are featherlight, lasting for a quick moment but being full of emotion. they’re soft as she presses her lips against your skin, tinting you in pinkish lipstick from head to toe.

oftentimes she bumps her nose against yours and when she sees your flustered expression she can only let out an angelic laugh. she then leans forwards to press a kiss on the area above your cupid's bow, just to poke your nose with hers once again.

a lot (all) of her songs are about you and she’s not one to deny that fact. there have been many times where robin sang you one of her songs as a way to comfort you, be it when she’s humming you to sleep or as you comb through her lilac hair with your fingers while listening to her songs.

“oh who’s this about?” you ask as you gingerly brush through her long hair, making sure that there aren’t any knots. robin's hair is silky and soft in your hands and you can only indulge in the scent of her freshly washed and dried hair - a sweet lavender scent.

robin can only hum in confusion. “you mean this song?” she tilts her head to the and stares at you through the mirror of her vanity. “yeah, this one.” you gulp, it’s an old song from robin that covers many topics like love, specifically falling in love and painting out a bright future.

“it’s about you, dummy. who else?” she laughs as if it were obvious. “about me?” but this song is much older than when we first started dating.” this time it’s you being confused. “well, the song is about falling in love and planning a future.” she hums.

all of her songs or at least the majority are about you and she doesn’t plan on stopping writing and singing more about you.

i'm literally brushing my teeth rn but whatever. i know love exists bc user @azullumi is full of it!!! (azul does NOT reply to tiktoks you send, im crying) also azul the thingy with the us copying our mannerism when it comes to texting I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE HAHA although keyboard smashing is something i've only done with a few people, like one or two.. but now it's become quite the habit again (instead of "JEKAKWOEOWAO" i wrote sutff like "HQHAHAHA" or "LMFAO" - i still do but wtv) also i thank you for introducing me to tagalog/filo songs. i love them. i'm a sucker for them now. ok that's all you're getting. you're not getting an ily from me. i need to spare that for the upcoming bsd chapter (THR ACTUAL REASON UIRE NOT GETTING ANY APPRECIATIVE WORDS IS CAUSE I ONLY GOT SHAMED FOR MY TYPOS IN UR E/N SO UNTIL I DONT GET ANY U DONT EITHER GO AND DOROWN IN A DITCH OLD HAG #nopainnogain #neverbackdownneverhwat?!?! #againstazul2024😡)

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baeshijima · 2 days

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— as we are

some may call him overbearing. you, on the other hand, find he is anything but that.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 848 wc, fluff, mayhaps a teensy bit of angst if you squint hard enough, established relationship, pre-penacony storyline

A/N : in a "match your freak" competition but my opponent is reader. (sits on the shore and stares out into the sea waiting for his drip marketing and light cone reveal so i can change the post layout to have his lc…)

There is a tender gentleness in the way Sunday loves.

It shows in the way he has a habit of putting others before himself, inadvertently causing him to neglect himself at the worst of times. It shows in the meticulous care he devotes to his sister, having even the most minute details embedded within the crevices of his mind. It shows in the moments where he nags at you for not taking better care of yourself, to which you find yourself subject to a less than impressed stare when you make a rebuttal of his hypocrisy.

Well, you find that the latter can be more annoying than it is welcome (mostly due to the fact his nags tend to be unprovoked when your guard is down, sometimes resulting in him chasing after you in your feeble attempts to escape), but you can at least acknowledge it comes from a place of care. Begrudgingly so.

Regardless, it doesn’t take away from the reality that Sunday only goes so far because he simply wants the best for you. After all, who would willingly speed-walk after you while reciting the basic necessities humans need in order to be healthy and happy? Certainly not someone who doesn’t care!

A slight shift halts your thoughts. Glancing down towards your lap, an involuntary smile tugs the corners of your lips at the sight of Sunday dozing away peacefully. You lift a hand to card it through his hair, mindful of the studs perched along his wings — as well as the wings itself — in case you accidentally awaken him due to its sensitivity.

(While it would be rather amusing to see him awaken in a fluster, you’re not mentally prepared enough for another one of his scoldings. Well, you suppose you also don’t want to interrupt his rare moment of rest as well.)

Light seeps in through the slight opening of the curtains. Translucent rays cast him amid a golden radiance, its gaze settling along the curve of his cheeks, brushing through his hair, and counting each strand of his lashes in a dim glow. Had you not known any better, you would have thought of him to be divinity itself.

With your fingers contentedly caressing through soft grey hair, a stifling warmth soon creeps up on you. The light which once cast a precious glow on your lover mere seconds ago now leaves an uncomfortable warmth searing into the back of your hand. It is a little unbearable, but nothing you cannot handle if it means preserving this peaceful moment a little while longer.

Well, until Sunday squints from the sunlight making contact with his closed eyelids with a small grimace, resulting in him attempting to block it out by the protection of your stomach, that is.

A brief sigh escapes you. Reaching behind you as best as you could without stirring the slumbering man on your lap awake, you clutch the velvet curtains in your free hand. With a careful pull towards you, the main source is blocked out. Remnants of the uncomfortable heat lingers on your skin, but you find yourself unbothered as you take in the subtle, sleepy smile now etched into his relaxed features.

Honestly, you’re surprised he allowed himself a respite such as this. You are more than accustomed to his vehement refusals, with him often insisting he has no need nor the time for even a moment’s rest when there is much to be done. It’s an obsession, almost, the way in which he hyper-focuses on even the most trivial of details. Not a single thing can be out of place; not a single thing can be anything less than perfection itself.

Sunday, in spite of his flawed methods and, in your humble opinion, horridly stubborn demeanour, is someone whom you hold in high regard. Behind his stern and almost rigid-like composure belies a selfless man who wishes for nothing more than the happiness and freedom of others. Behind a calm gaze akin to that of an omniscient being is a man who brushes off any and all concerns for his well-being, a tight-lipped smile and light tone doing little to distract you from the brief clench of his fists and subtle pause which stretches on a little too long to be considered a breather.

Again, in your honest and most humble opinion, he is wretchedly stubborn — that, or he simply doesn’t know how to rely on and confide in others, despite the many times he himself has been confided in.

You take him in once more, seizing this rare moment in which you can see him as he is wholeheartedly without all the layers and walls and barriers he meticulously has built up around him.

Should a time in which he is ready to relinquish the burdens he carries amidst his quiet solitude come, you will embrace all that he is with welcoming arms; even if it wholly consumes you.

There is a tender gentleness in the way Sunday loves. Some may find his care to be overbearing, but you find that it is not overbearing enough.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #sunday x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines

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fragileheartbeats · 1 day

Text

⌗ 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 ( ♱ )

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language Hope you enjoy!

I can see Sunday as one of the most delusional yanderes in the game. He's not a sadistic person, but he's someone who doesn't see any problem in hurting you if that's what it takes.

The world is gray in his eyes, devoid of color and warmth. But in his bleak existence, you shine brighter than anyone else. Your smile is a gentle sunrise, your eyes are a soft, comforting dusk. You are his beacon, his solace, the only touch of beauty in a life filled with shadows.

You're different in his eyes. Not truly different, but to him, you are extraordinary. He loves everything about you, from the way your hair cascades over your shoulders to the glistening tears that fall from your eyes. Your presence brings a semblance of color and warmth to his otherwise monochrome existence.

He likes to believe that what he's doing is right. He convinces himself that he’s helping you by keeping you close, away from the harshness of the outside world. He thinks he's protecting you, preserving your purity and beauty forever.

It's okay, he tells himself. It's okay if he broke your legs, if he hurt you. It's okay if you bleed, if you cry, if you hate him. It's all okay.

Because in the end, he's doing it for you. It's all for you. It's all because of you.

Look what you made him do! Look at what he has become! Why are you doing this? Why did you make him fall for you? Why did you smile so beautifully at him? Why did you show him what love means? Why? Just why?

He didn't want to take it this far. He only wanted you to listen, to understand, to believe him, to love him.

But you didn’t. And look what happened. Can't you see it hurts him as well? Can't you see he doesn't want to do this? Why do you force him to do it?

He didn't want to break you, to hurt you, to kill you. He never imagined it would lead to something so painfully tragic.

He remembers the first time he saw you, how his heart skipped a beat, how his breath caught in his throat. You were a vision, an angel in his dark world. He wanted to protect that light, to keep it close to him, to never let it fade away.

But as time went on, his love grew darker, more possessive. He couldn't stand the thought of you being with anyone else, of you smiling at someone else the way you smiled at him. He started to see threats everywhere, dangers that could take you away from him.

He wishes he could do better. Love you better. Keep you better. Please come back! He'll change! He'll do anything you ask. He'll give you anything you want.

What do you want? Just name it! Do you want him to beg on his knees like a dog? He will do that!

He won't break your bones anymore. He won't keep you in your cage anymore. He won't put a collar on you anymore. He won't mock you anymore. He won't hurt you anymore. Just please, please smile at him again. Let him see that light once more.

He is willing to destroy himself for you, to become whatever you need, just to see your happiness. His love, warped and twisted, remains boundless. He is lost without you, a soul adrift in the darkness, clinging to the hope that you might yet forgive him.

Please, don’t leave him in this darkness. Let your light guide him back. Even if you can never love him, even if you can never forgive him, just let him see your smile once more. Let him believe, if only for a moment, that there is still beauty in the world.

Just please, please smile at him again.

Please...

He sits in the dark, watching you cry in your sleep, tears streaming down his own face. He whispers to himself, trying to convince himself that what he's doing is right, that it's for your own good. He strokes your hair gently, his touch soft and tender, in stark contrast to the violence he’s inflicted upon you.

Every tear you shed feels like a dagger to his heart, but he tells himself that it’s necessary. He tells himself that he’s saving you from a world that doesn’t deserve you, from people who can’t appreciate you the way he does.

But deep down, he knows. He knows that he’s the monster you need saving from. He knows that his love is twisted and wrong. And it breaks him.

He clings to the hope that one day, you’ll understand. That one day, you’ll see that everything he did was out of love. That one day, you’ll forgive him.

But until then, he’ll keep you safe in the only way he knows how. Even if it means breaking you. Even if it means breaking himself.

Because in the end, he's doing it for you. It's all for you. It's all because of you.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

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mizu0xox0 · 2 days

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Self aware! Hsr males learning that you simp for Aventurine (Dan Heng, Dr Ratio and Sunday)

Note: kinda crack ig? I mean it sounds like crack already, kinda ooc as I wrote this for fun

Self aware! Dan Heng does some research through the data bank to look at what qualities does Aventurine has that stands out much more then other characters that makes him so intriguing to you

Self aware! Dan Heng who silently judges you if you say anything involving you simping for Aventurine like he's not jealous but it kind of concerns him with the amount of phrases you can say about this certain subject

Self aware! Dan Heng who isn't easily ticked by anything but sometimes when he heard Aventurine boasting about being your ideal type or something around that well let's say Aventurine is knocked out by Dan Hengs spear

Self aware! Dan Heng who might crit more and might even do more damage then Aventurine no matter how bad his build is, just to try to impress you more

Self aware! Dan Heng who doesn't really mind you talking but maybe once in awhile switch the subject to something other then Aventurine but not like you knew he could hear you

Self aware! Dan Heng who really questions what you see in Aventurine, what stood out from the gambler more than the other characters was it his luck? His clothing? Or something else...

Self aware! Ratio who questions your idiocy sure you're a somewhat higher being then them even if you didn't know of it but of all the people you could've chosen to simp for why the damn gambler

Self aware! Ratio who is losing years and years of his life the more he hears you yap about Aventurine and when he hears a single down bad one believe me when I say the "Zero points! Get out!" voice line was intentional

Self aware! Ratio whose voice lines seem now scarily on point whenever you start talking about Aventurine and you swear you can feel him side eyeing you through the screen

Self aware! Ratio who doesn't hesitate to chuck chalk and hit Aventurine with his codex repeatedly if he starts boasting

Self aware! Ratio who starts to crit less and less if he hears you yap about Aventurine during battle and if Aventurine is in your team somehow he's taking damage despite having his shield active (Ratio is actively throwing chalk at him)

Self aware! Ratio who takes a look at what intrigued you so much about Aventurine maybe he could learn a few pointers or maybe not

Self aware! Sunday let's be honest during the one part of the story where he used the order on Aventurine well he makes it hurt more intentionally but he also feels bad since it's not something Aventurine could control

Self aware! Sunday who used his birds to spy on Aventurine to see what of Aventurine's mannerisms caught your eye to like him to this point

Self aware! Sunday who looks completely calm on the outside but on the inside he's questioning many things you've said about Aventurine

Self aware! Sunday who's boss seems to attack Aventurine more than your other team

Self aware! Sunday who covers his ears with his wings sometimes when your yapping starts getting down bad and very down bad by that

♡

Thank you for reading and I apologize if any of these were ooc and sorry for the lack of writing as I've been busy grinding wuwa and PGR as of late

#hsr x reader #sahsrau #self aware hsr #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x y/n #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x y/n

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maopll · 3 days

Note

AVI HELP I BELIEVE SUNDAY AND AVENTURINE HAVE ME IN A CHOKEHOLD THAT I CAN'T ESCAPE FROM AND IM GOING FUCKING FERAL OVER THESE TWO-

Also some if you have the time i want some fluff with these two (poly) :3

Don't worry if you put this ask on the back burner for a little bit while you fill out the other 1k event request i wont get upset :3

"JUST THE THREE OF US"

# honkai star rail edition !

⋆·˚ your two lovers, Aventurine and Sunday are both respectable and reputed men for their charming qualities and calm composure. Yet... they all just vanish in the air when you are with them, behind close doors.

note : poly relation. sfw. funny gn!reader

a/n note: screaming , crying , throwing up i love these two.

"Good morning Sweetheart !"

"It's the ass crack of dawn ! why are you two shouting !"

"He shouted first"

Aventurine and Sunday glared at eachother at this statement. For some reason they were saying everything in unison.

you were fed up with their bickering so to break the ice, "... I'm too tired for this what's for breakfast ?"

"Your favourites dove, everything prepared by the finest chefs"

"and on the finest plates! all funded by yours truly" aventurine teasingly said so as he blew a kiss towards you. Mornings like this were a given. Luxurious dining yet homely food, and being greeted by the most handsome faces of penacony.

Although It was hard at first on making your decision on whom to choose as your partner, both of them agreed when you wanted to take them as your soulmate together.

Staying with these two under the same roof has its complications and its advantages.

You get to play with Aventurine's critters

"Hey aven do you think they will like fish? they do look like cats anyway ..."

"I think there are better alternatives to fish hm? my dear?"

And also to enjoy the fluffiness of Sunday's wings.

"Does... Does it hurt sunday ?"

"Not at all angel, you're being very gentle and ... it feels good..." Sunday often dozes off when you caress his wings like that. "You two are lucky that I can multitask like this" you chuckled.

—

"Look I'm leaving for a job that is going to take long so you two better be on your best behaviour ! no bickering ! no going at eachothers throats got it?"

"Yes ma'am"

When it comes to receiving orders from you about behaviour and being good, they always listen to you since they know that you love both of them equally.

So imagine your reaction when you come back to a very expensive yet the sweetest surprise.

"Welcome back home Dove" Sunday strided towards you and kissed the back of your hand.

"Relax now my love! It's only on us today so just rest" Aventurine says so as he takes the coat off your back and leaving trails of kisses on your neck.

"You two ... prepared this for me ?"

The living room was decorated only with your favourite things. Plushies , vintage furniture , many plants and your favourite dishes all set on a small round table. Although the previous furniture was nowhere to be seen , this change from the normal was appreciated by you.

"Thank you so much !—"

"Not so fast dearest , welcome back home and to us" Aventurine and Sunday both handed you a gift.

"A gift ? what does it have ... ? ... ! "

Words couldn't explain your surprise when you saw a keychain with small handmade yarn dolls of you , aven and sunday together, and a locket which had the picture of you three on one side and a small "Thank you for loving us" with their signatures on it.

"This is the best welcome home gift I've ever seen"

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr sunday #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail sunday #hsr aventurine #star rail aventurine #star rail sunday #aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #aventurine fluff #sunday fluff #my fic

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watevermelon · 2 days

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A Beautiful Cage | Sunday x Reader

✧ Summary: You woke up in this beautiful dream, memories lost with a handsome man claiming to be your husband.

➳ Spoilers for the 2.2 Penacony update! ➳ Warnings: Dark!Sunday x Amnesiac Reader; Yandere writing liberties :) ➳ Navigation

“My beautiful Sparrow, welcome back.”

You stared at the man, blinking twice without words as his affection for you shined like the halo upon his head. The grip he had on your hand fell with each beat of your prolonged silence, a new sort of desperation growing at the corners of his lips. Your heart broke at the sight, despite not even knowing his name.

“I’m sorry. Do I… know you?” You asked back, sitting up in the bed and only now noticing your surroundings.

The sterile smell and beeping monitors confirmed the worst. Beside you sat someone whom you felt an inexplicable connection to, a pull in your heart that stirred up warning bells, yet their face brought no specific memories.

Everything about him exuded importance, from the fine fabric and intricate details of his clothes to the matching halo and ethereal wings. He almost looked like an angel, a being of celestial grace and authority.

The man in question grimaced, but continued. “My name is Sunday. Do you remember my face?”

Sunday, like the last day of the week.

The day of rest.

“I’m sorry, no.” Your forehead creased in strain, as if the physical action could bring it all back. A worse revelation crossed your mind, “I don’t even remember my own name.”

“Then I will help you remember, my dear Sparrow.” He spoke gently, repeating the term of endearment as he lifted your hand to his lips. A silent warning bell in your subconscious screamed at you to pull away, but you ignored it to instead stare into his handsome, golden eyes.

“Please, stop me if this becomes overwhelming for you.” Sunday warned before explaining further, “You are my wife. And because of my position in this world, you are often put in danger. And unfortunately, I was not able to protect you from an attack.”

You stayed silent as Sunday continued on, describing in small detail the life you shared together.

Your name and the world you chose to stay in, Penacony.

A dreamlike world where many partied their days away, celebrities and the affluent from around the universe sharing in one lavish adventure.

And Sunday, the head of the Oak family.

You could hardly believe his words, a world where people were able to freely pursue their dreams.

The hesitation must have been seen on your face, since the kind stranger had countered with a simple phrase. “Let me show you.”

Gold lined the streets as far as the eye could see, casting a radiant glow across the entire cityscape. Fantastical roads floated in the sky above, while buildings were illuminated in a dazzling golden radiance.

Golden Hour, the name for the area, was aptly so.

You stared dumbly in different directions, taking in the fantastical view and the lively bustle of people moving from store to store. Street performers graced nearly every corner, their music blending into a harmonious soundtrack that filled the vibrant, diverse heart of the city.

Sunday lifted an open palm towards you, the corners of his lips curling into a soft smile as if inviting your touch. As you placed your hand over his, you felt the gentle pressure of his grip matching your own tenderness. His hand felt cold and unfamiliar, but you brushed aside the discomfort, chalking it up to your amnesia.

“It’s Mr. Sunday!” A child yelled in excitement, jumping up and down as his company of other children turned at his words.

Suddenly there was a crowd of children, all surrounding your supposed husband and asking for his autograph. A weight on your heart felt lighter, seeing strangers confirm the words of the one person who was influencing your entire outlook on your new life.

Sunday was essentially a stranger, but now the only person you could rely on.

You needed truths and as the crowd grew larger, you could confirm that this man was honest in his words earlier.

“Are you alright, Miss?” One of the children turned and asked you.

Another joined in on the conversation, “Mr. Sunday said you were hurt! Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.” You kept your response kind, but short.

Sunday weaved his way through the short crowd, back to your side. "Please excuse us as we must depart promptly. My sincere apologies, but my dear wife has endured considerable challenges."

“Awww, he loves you!” A squeal broke out from the back, making you unconsciously blush.

Sunday simply smiled, before waving goodbye and leading you on your way.

Sunday resided in a grand estate, passing libraries adorning the walls as he guided you to your shared bedroom. You admired the opulent furniture, once again accented with gold. As Sunday removed his outer layers, you seized the opportunity to survey the room. Framed pictures — your wedding, a festival, and one with a third person who looked much like Sunday —moments that, regrettably, eluded your recognition.

Your husband emerged from the other room silently, regarding you with that same small smile as he drew closer.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember.” You spoke first, genuinely frustrated that your memories were taken from you. “It’s alright.” He reassured you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Can I try something to help you?”

You nodded in quiet affirmation, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as Sunday leaned closer. His breath mingled with yours, warm and comforting, as he pressed a soft kiss against the tip of your nose before gently lowering his lips to meet yours. The kiss was tender, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, delicate and fleeting, as if both of you were hesitant to disrupt the tranquility of the moment.

But as the warmth of the embrace enveloped you, a surge of emotion ignited within, fueling the kiss with a newfound intensity. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and longing, as Sunday's hand found its way to the back of your neck, his touch both gentle and possessive. With each brush of his lips against yours, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you locked in a timeless embrace.

But it was not enough.

“I love you, my Sparrow.” He murmured against your lips. “Whatever you come to need, I will provide it. Lest it be my time, my affection, or even if you perhaps… need space.”

A pang of bittersweet ache tugged at your heart as you processed those last words. It was undeniable how much Sunday loved you, his actions speaking volumes and allowing you the space and freedom if that was what you wanted. It was a sacrifice born out of love, a silent vow to stand by your side no matter the outcome, even as your heart yearned for the completeness that only the restoration of your memories could bring.

But a life without him… did not feel right?

“No, please. I want you by my side.”

It was a small concession, but the radiant smile that blossomed across Sunday's face filled even you with an infectious joy. He leaned in, pressing a series of gentle kisses along the side of your cheek, each one eliciting a soft laugh from your lips as you savored the delightful sensation. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the warmth of his affection, all worries and uncertainties melted away, leaving behind only the sweet embrace of shared laughter and unspoken love.

You snuggled into his arms at night, the sensation unfamiliar but not unwelcome. As you closed your eyes and drifted into slumber, a relentless melody began to crescendo, growing louder and more insistent until it engulfed your consciousness, becoming the sole sound echoing through the corridors of your dreams.

A woman's voice, light and airy, infused with hope, danced through the recesses of your mind, casting a shimmering veil over your thoughts.

Who was that woman?

And why was she the only memory your mind could recall?

You devoured every book available on Penacony and its rich history, spending countless days ensconced within the walls of your private library. Sunday had even offered recommendations, guiding you towards enlightening reads detailing the intricate tapestry of the Oak family and the other prominent families that shaped the fabric of Penacony's past.

A dream, tantalizing in its promise, offering individuals the chance to manifest and fulfill their deepest desires, but with a caveat—access granted solely through the family's invitation.

But there was nothing of note regarding your situation.

Instead, you found yourself falling into rhythm into Sunday’s life.

You slotted into his life easily, either accompanying Sunday for work or even venturing out on your own. Some days, you would visit his office as he tirelessly worked and meticulously planned for the upcoming Charmony festival. Or, on easier days, strolled through the familiar streets of Penacony as he encouraged you to immerse yourself in the surroundings in hopes of triggering memories.

In each interaction, it was evident the deep love and devotion Sunday held for his people and his beloved city of Penacony. He listened attentively to even the most mundane complaints from others, offering genuine empathy and understanding. His concern and unwavering commitment to his people were palpable, leaving a heartwarming impression on all who encountered him.

It seemed like he was perfect in every way possible.

Life with Sunday was sweet, easy even.

And yet, there was an insistent hammering in your heart, a relentless pulse that sent waves of unease through your entire being.

Every night without fail, you continued to hear that insistent melody, a haunting refrain that seemed to echo from the depths of your past. You couldn't fathom why your mind clung to this particular fragment of memory and it nearly drove you to anger. You had lived an entire life, rich with experiences and emotions, yet it was a single song that your memory chose to preserve. Why not Sunday, or the life you had shared together?

What was the importance of this song?

You found yourself unconsciously humming along to this song even as you traversed Penacony. It was another day with Sunday off attending to business, leaving you to your own devices. You appreciated his willingness to let you explore Penacony independently; it allowed you to experience the city's vibrancy through your own eyes, unfiltered by anyone’s perceptions and unburdened by expectations. The freedom to form your own impressions was a gift, even as the familiar tune haunted your every step.

How could you possibly be suspicious of your husband when he was giving you all this freedom?

Your eyes swept appreciatively across the cityscape until they paused in one direction. You halted immediately, a small tendril of suspicion blossoming into body-wide panic as you recognized the woman standing before you.

In your heart of hearts, you remembered her name.

Robin.

Instantly, an unrelenting pain seared through your brain, but you resisted the urge to duck down, clutching your head as you stared at the woman. She locked eyes with you, surprise flashing across her face before she began running in your direction.

“Robin?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but the woman wrapped her arms around your middle.

Her hug felt deeply familiar, like the comforting embrace of home after a long, perilous journey. It was as if her arms wrapped not just around your body, but around your weary soul, offering solace and a sense of belonging that you had desperately missed.

You continued. “Robin, I… Lost all my memories. You are the only person I’ve recognized so far.”

Robin's face contorted in pain, worry deepening with every word you spoke. She looked you over, inspecting every inch to ensure you were unhurt. Satisfied, she hugged you again tightly before gently patting your heart.

“Robin?” You asked again, but the woman only looked at you and tilted her head in question.

“Are you… unable to speak?”

Yes.

She nodded her head, making you take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. “Is it because of me?”

No.

“I… We should tell Sunday!” You attempted to look for a solution, but she frowned and kept nodding her head no. “Does he already know?

Yes.

“... Will you come back home with me? I don’t remember you fully, but in my heart it feels like I’ve missed you.”

She nodded eagerly, making you a bit more suspicious of her intentions.

You walked side-by-side, making your way back to your shared abode with Sunday, enveloped in a familiar atmosphere. In the absence of her voice, you took it upon yourself to fill the air with conversation, enough for the both of you. You recounted how you had awoken without a single memory, with Sunday faithfully by your side. You described his love and devotion, his unwavering care for your every need.

This felt familiar, being with Robin. However, why now?

Why hadn’t she visited you before?

A part of your mind stuttered, hesitating to confide in Robin about the ominous feeling gnawing at your heart regarding everything that was happening. What if she took her brother's side? Perhaps it was wiser to keep silent, hesitant to disclose your apprehensions, especially considering the possibility that she might be collaborating with him.

You walked into the foyer with Robin and she led you further into the home, into a library with a large desk that had a model of all of Golden Hour.

It was evident that she was on a mission, striding purposefully forward without the slightest hint of hesitation as she surveyed the towering bookcases that lined the walls of the library. Sensing her focused energy, you allowed her to proceed in silence, observing her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Recognition flashed behind her eyes and she grabbed something resting on the shelf, a rectangular object, before quickly thrusting it at you.

“What do you want me to do with this?” You asked with confusion, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Silent yet urgent, she swiftly took charge and reached to open the flap of your jacket, deftly slipping the object into the pocket before pressing a single pointer finger against her lips, signaling for you to maintain absolute silence.

You shook your head in confusion, near begging for more information. “Silent from who?”

From Sunday?

Or from someone else in Penacony?

But a now familiar voice was heard at the door frame.

“My dear sister, I didn’t know you’d be visiting our home today. Not that I’m not grateful, but I would have stayed home to greet you upon your arrival.” Sunday greeted you both with his customary kind smile, a warm familiarity washing over you. He approached, embracing his sister first in a lingering hug before turning to your side, where he offered you a greeting kiss on the forehead.

“My offer to stay in this home still stands, dear sister.”

Their relationship appeared to be fine, even close. Perhaps Robin hadn’t intended to keep the matter silent from Sunday? However, as Robin bid you both goodbye and you found yourselves alone, you made the conscious decision to remain quiet about the object, keeping it tucked away in your pocket like a silent reminder.

The following day, you ventured out of the mansion and found yourself in a cafe. Uncertain about the object nestled in your pocket, you hesitated to even retrieve it, opting instead to keep your hand inside, fingers lightly brushing against its surface as you inspected it solely through touch.

Nothing about it seemed special, just a rectangular object shrouded in mystery.

Dumbfounded, you exited the cafe, pondering the possibility of researching the object. Was there a library somewhere in Penacony that might hold more information? A tendril of apprehension tightened in your heart as you recalled that the only library you had encountered thus far was the one within your own home.

“Ah, his little songbird.” A voice, unfamiliar, broke you out of your reverie.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked back genuinely.

“Perhaps in another lifetime.” The woman continued, looking you up and down with a smirk on her face.

She was beautiful, even enough to make you feel self conscious. The woman stood tall with porcelain skin contrasting the lavender hues that cascaded down her back. Her gaze nearly matched her hair, a captivating blend of colors with red striking you like the flames of a hypnotic fire.

“My name is Black Swan.” She stated simply, inspecting your eyes as if to see if there was any recognition behind them.

But instead, you blinked twice, uncertainty clouding your thoughts as you awaited her next words, unsure of where she was leading the conversation.

“That’s unfortunate.” She commented on your eyes, once vibrant when she last saw you. “But I believe you have a souvenir of mine.”

Your hand clenched around the rectangular object, a surge of apprehension coursing through you. The thought of broaching the subject with Sunday seemed fraught with risk. Why would you entertain the idea of confiding in a stranger?

“I know you don’t trust me. But would it help if I told you a fellow songbird and I gave it to you?”

Robin.

You paused, looking left and right before stepping closer.

“Hold on.” She spoke softly, her words accompanied by a gentle hand on your wrist, guiding you away from the bustling streets of Golden Hour. Through winding paths and intricate puzzles, she led you, each twist and turn revealing new secrets and hidden passages.

“It isn’t safe here either, but at least now we’re away from the eyes of the bloodhounds.”

Huh?

Though you couldn’t quite comprehend it, with each passing moment in the company of this stranger, you found yourself inexplicably at ease. There was a sense of trust that seemed to grow between you, as if she were a steadfast ally in this labyrinthine journey. You held up the rectangular object in your palms, and she made no move to take it from your grasp, respecting your agency and the significance of the item to you.

She put her hand over the object, “This is an empty light cone. Light cones hold memories, moments in time that were long forgotten even by the user.”

Your eyes shot up in interest, but you did not interrupt her.

“Tell me, do you enjoy this dream?” She asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Be honest with me, songbird.”

You paused, given the first true opportunity to speak your mind. “I enjoy being here, but something doesn't feel complete.”

“Have you noticed something strange since you first awoke here?”

“Like what?

“Remember. A major flaw in the story you have experienced.”

Your frustration grew, “I can only recall the last few weeks, I can’t go back any further.”

Black Swan fixed her gaze upon you, her eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity as she spoke. “Think back to what you know. Where did you start this story?”

“I was in a hospital, here in Penacony.”

In response, she arched a single eyebrow, a silent indication that there was more to your statement than met the eye.

“And a death in Penacony means what?” She asked slowly.

You strained to recall the answer to that question, your mind rifling through the wealth of knowledge gleaned from the books you had devoured upon awakening. In this dream realm, death held no sway, its specter banished from the bounds of this surreal reality. Your heart quickened with anticipation as the answer began to crystallize in your mind.

“It means returning back to reality.”

If your injuries were indeed severe enough to land you in a hospital bed, on the edge of your life and stripped of your memories, why hadn't you simply returned to reality?

Or rather, why hadn’t Sunday brought you back to reality?

“Wake up, songbird. Break free from this eternal dream.”

Your consciousness plunged beneath the surface instantly, submerged in the depths of an endless ocean. With each stroke, you struggled against the weight of the water, yearning for the surface just out of reach. Yet, propelled by an unseen force, your mind surged forward, propelled by the current of your subconscious.

You coughed up air, gasping for breath as you struggled to fill your lungs, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you in waves.

Where the hell were you?

You found yourself seated in a pool of water within the confines of a colossal oyster, a fleeting memory flickering in your mind—a recollection of this being the entrance to the Dreamscape.

You were back in reality.

The room was tastefully decorated, with screens displaying a serene beachside view and lush green plants adorning the corners. A cozy fireplace added warmth and ambiance to one wall. It became evident that this was your personal space, as stacks of books adorned every available surface.

As you meticulously combed through the books, your fingers trembled with anticipation, a sense of dread beginning to gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. Each page turned revealed nothing but mundane details, no hint of Sunday's potential duplicity. Yet, the oppressive silence of the room seemed to press in on you, suffocating and thick with apprehension.

Nobody should have knowledge of your clandestine presence, save for Black Swan, yet the hollow echo of a knock shattered the stillness, reverberating through the room like a harbinger of doom. Each rap upon the door sent shivers racing down your spine, your heartbeat thundering like a drumbeat of impending dread.

Was it Sunday?

Was he going to force you back into the Dreamscape?

Hesitation rooted you on the spot, hand trembling as it hovered over the doorknob. Fear coiled in your chest like a venomous serpent, paralyzing your every movement. But the relentless knocking persisted, growing louder and more insistent with each passing second, until it felt as though the very walls themselves were closing in.

“Sparrow, are you alright?”

Sunday.

And yet he sounded… concerned?

His genuinely distressed tone had a disarming effect, causing your guard to falter. With a hesitant hand, you reached for the doorknob, feeling it's cool metal beneath your fingertips.

Even with your slow movements, Sunday hadn’t rushed to open the rest of the door. His voice was gentle, “My love, were you attacked again?”

What?

Did you awaken here the last time you were attacked?

You met Sunday's gaze, but the expression etched upon his face was unlike anything you had ever seen. His eyes, typically ablaze with a golden warmth, now held a chilling intensity, their once vibrant hue dimmed to a somber shade. In their depths, a glimmer of suspicion flickered, casting an ominous pall over his countenance. His stare bore into you with a laser-like focus, each line etched upon his features to show the gravity of his scrutiny.

“No… I was with…”

Your mind stuttered once more, faltering in its attempt to grasp onto the memory of the woman you had just encountered. The image of her beautiful lavender hair and the melodic cadence of her voice began to fade, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It was as if the memories were elusive phantoms, slipping away from your grasp, leaving behind only fragments of a conversation and a sense of disorientation in their wake.

Sunday remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he observed your inner turmoil with a focused intensity. In a fleeting instant, the tension dissolved from his features, replaced by a tender expression as he lifted a hand to caress your cheek. Leaning in, he gently pressed his forehead against yours, a silent gesture of reassurance.

“Let me take care of you, Songbird.”

“Where… Where are we going?”

“Let’s forgo the Dreamscape tonight. The dinner menu in the lounge sounded particularly appetizing.”

As your mind grappled with the swirling chaos of conflicting memories, one thought remained steadfast: the yearning to return to reality and leave the Dreamscape. Yet, Sunday stood before you, extending an invitation to remain in reality with him. His gentle encouragement, coupled with the suggestion of sharing a meal together, created a tug-of-war within your soul - if he was truly suspicious, wouldn’t he want to return to the Dream?

“Something wrong, my dear?” Sunday asked, his trademark gentle smile once again gracing his features.

A pang of guilt gnawed at a corner of your mind, for you had harbored suspicions of Sunday throughout your time in the Dreamscape. Yet, here he stood, seemingly without fault, extending an open invitation to spend time with him outside the confines of the dream.

“No, let’s.. Let’s get dinner.” You spoke softly, slipping your hand into his and surprising him with your initiative, taking the lead for once.

“Of course, my love.”

You traversed the halls in silence, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts as you pondered the origins of your suspicion towards Sunday. He had been your rock, your unwavering support, proving his loyalty and love over the years of your marriage. It was probably the amnesia that made you wary, but you felt somewhat guilty that you held suspicions over the one person who may not have deserved it.

Lost in contemplation, you scarcely noticed the world around you until you chanced upon a young boy, his striking white hair and azure garments catching your attention in the otherwise familiar surroundings.

“Welcome back to the Reverie! If you need any assistance, feel free to let me know.” He greeted you by name, making you smile at his sunny disposition.

“Thank you, we’re headed down to the VIP lounge now for dinner.” Sunday responded, pausing to reply to the bellboy.

“I’m sorry, I had an accident and I don’t remember your name. Can you tell me yours?”

“No problem, my name is Misha.”

“A pleasure to meet you Misha.” You replied before waving goodbye, smiling as you went with Sunday by your side.

Perhaps you were wrong to be suspicious of Sunday. But no matter, you had an entire lifetime to make it up to your darling husband. He had been so kind to you these last few weeks, you resolved to make amends and shower your darling husband with the love and trust he deserved. Recollections of his tender gestures flooded your mind—the soft kisses, the gentle caresses—that had brought warmth and comfort to your heart over the past weeks. With a smile playing at your lips, you embraced the idea of spending a lifetime cherishing him.

You leaned up on your toes, gently kissing the side of his cheek as you walked through the halls.

Perhaps things were as they should be.

Despite what Robin claimed, Sunday loved you, truly.

Even when you threatened to leave his side for good.

When Robin returned back from her journey on death’s door, Sunday had not simply presented the idea of keeping her here on Penacony.

He enforced it.

In the tender heart of Sunday resided his beloved sister, a cherished soul intertwined with his very essence—his own lifeblood. Why, then, would he ever allow her to return to the perilous realms from whence she came?

Society was too cold, too dangerous.

Robin vocalized her discontent, lamenting the confines of the gilded cage that Penacony had become for her. Yet it was a cage adorned not with mere bars but with the allure of gold and the promise of boundless dreams. She could do anything, be anything. In fact, she was already a renowned celebrity who had the love of her last remaining family member.

Why return to danger when here she prospered?

“It is still a cage.” She would counter, frustration dripping from her words.

And how much more did it break his heart when you took her side?

“Sunday, my love.” As if any endearments would affix his shattered heart. “Robin has a message that she must continue spreading. Keeping her confined here, what about the people she needs to reach?”

No.

He refused to accept their words.

Sunday’s sacrifices were grains of sand slipping through an hourglass, bearing the weight of his every aspiration, relinquished one by one until they formed a towering edifice, precarious yet resolute. At its peak stood the pinnacle of his being — his own life — offered willingly to maintain this dreamlike world even until the very last breath of eternity.

How much more was he willing to give-up?

Or rather, what was he allowed to be selfish for?

His dear sister.

And certainly, you.

As the Stellaron continued to leak Asdana’s memoria into the material world, Sunday felt his final dreams come to fruition. The Dreamscape was blending with reality, making even reality itself an illusion.

He told himself repeatedly that this was for the good of humanity, a paradise where every individual was able to indulge in their delightful dreams and live their own personal happily ever after.

And what of yours?

Sunday granted you the freedom to roam Penacony at will, affording you the opportunity to reach for the stars even in his physical absence. But your frustration mounted, you knew he was watching from a distance anyway, a million eyes at his beck and call in this so-called Dream. You continued to voice your discontent, arguing that freedom within the confines of a cage was not truly freedom.

Why did you insist on leaving this eternal dream?

Would you leave his side and return to being an abandoned orphan, tossed aside somewhere in the old Penacony?

No, he would not allow it.

Even if he had to rewrite your memories along the way.

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