Honkai Star: Rail x Reader Oneshots

Meeting the Parents! | Aventurine x Reader

Summary: Aventurine nervously meets your parents, who initially judge him due to his connection with the IPC. Despite their doubts, his kindness and the revelation of his traumatic past win them over. By the end of the evening, your parents jokingly consider adopting him, unaware that Aventurine plans to marry you, making him family in more ways than one.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Family Dynamics, Nervousness, Romance, Humor, Trauma, Supportive Parents.

Warnings: Light angst, mentions of trauma, family tension.

Aventurine stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar for what felt like the hundredth time. He’d faced down intimidating boardrooms, handled high-stakes deals, and even wagered his career on sheer wit and nerve. But nothing could compare to the butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach at the thought of meeting your parents.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his usually confident voice edged with uncertainty. His eyes found yours in the reflection, an unspoken plea lingering in them.

You took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “They’re going to love you, Aven. Just be yourself, okay?”

His usual grin flickered on his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Myself?” he echoed with a soft chuckle. “I hope they can handle that.” He took a deep breath and straightened his posture, donning his most dashing smile, a look that usually melted away doubts. “Alright, let’s do this.”

The smell of fresh-baked bread filled the air as you stepped into your parents' house, leading Aventurine by the hand. Your mother greeted you warmly, her gaze flicking to Aventurine with curiosity…and a touch of skepticism. Your father, meanwhile, offered a polite nod, but there was no missing the cautious look in his eyes as he took in the flamboyant attire, the card suit details, and the peacock feather earring glinting in the light.

“Mom, Dad,” you began, smiling encouragingly, “this is Aventurine.”

Aventurine extended his hand to your father. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. [L/N].”

Your father shook his hand briefly before pulling back. “So, IPC, huh?” he remarked, eyebrows raised. “Not the most popular organization in these parts.”

Aventurine’s confident smile faltered just a bit. He shot a glance your way, as if to gauge if this was the normal reception. You gave him a supportive look, and he recovered, nodding smoothly. “Yes, sir. It does carry a reputation—but I’m not your typical IPC manager.” He laughed, but your parents' silence made the sound a bit strained.

Your mother gestured for everyone to sit, her eyes fixed on him as though assessing some hidden quality. “We know that our [Name] has always been a good judge of character,” she said delicately, “but IPC isn’t exactly known for…compassionate work. What drew you there?”

Aventurine paused, clearly grappling with how much to share. “It’s…complicated,” he said eventually. “But to be frank, I didn’t have much choice. When life’s odds are stacked against you, sometimes you have to play the hand you’re dealt.”

That seemed to strike a chord with them, though they exchanged skeptical glances. Noticing the tension, you gently rested your hand on his, giving him a nod to continue. He met your gaze, and something in your eyes—trust, reassurance—seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

Throughout dinner, Aventurine worked to prove himself. He shared stories from his travels and even cracked a few jokes, though his laughter was softer, more tentative than usual. And you noticed him sneaking a worried glance at you each time your father’s questions probed a little too close for comfort.

But slowly, as the evening unfolded, the initial frostiness began to thaw. Your father seemed to soften, maybe even appreciate Aventurine’s resilience and tenacity. And your mother, despite her initial concerns, seemed almost charmed by his good manners and his clear affection for you.

“So, Aventurine,” your mother began, refilling his glass of water, “tell us a bit more about your family.”

He froze, the smile slipping from his face for just a moment. You felt his hand clench slightly under the table, and instinctively, you rubbed his knuckles with your thumb.

“Actually,” he said quietly, looking at his drink, “I…don’t have family.” He gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “They’re gone. All of them, I suppose.”

Your parents’ expressions softened, and your mother reached out, resting her hand over his free one. “I’m sorry, dear,” she murmured, her eyes filling with a new warmth. “No one should have to go through that.”

Aventurine looked up, a surprised flicker crossing his face. “Thank you.”

By the time dessert arrived, the mood was lighter, laughter filling the room as your mother jokingly commented on how she always wanted another son. Aventurine flushed at the remark, glancing at you with a shy, boyish grin you rarely saw.

“Well, Mom,” you said, barely holding back your own grin, “it’s only a matter of time before he’s family anyway.” You shot a mischievous look at Aventurine, who raised an eyebrow, his signature confidence slowly returning.

“Oh?” your father asked, now leaning back with a playful smirk. “You plan on making things official?”

Aventurine chuckled, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, a genuine, softened expression on his face. “Actually…yes, if your child will have me.” he said, his gaze warm as it found yours.

That night, as you walked back to your shared apartment, Aventurine’s hand wrapped securely around yours, he let out a long sigh, laughing softly. “They’re…amazing. I was so nervous. But they’re…your family, [Name]. And they really welcomed me, despite everything.”

You squeezed his hand, smiling up at him. “I told you they’d love you.”

He stopped, turning to face you fully, his eyes bright in the dim streetlight. “You were right. And…I want you to know, they’re my family now too. I’m going to protect you. Always.”

You leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I know. And I’ll protect you, too.”

Together, you walked on, your steps in perfect harmony. Aventurine didn’t have to gamble anymore; he’d already won.