#boothill oneshots

[trappolia]

OLD COWBOY’S REPRIEVE — pre-canon!boothill x gn!reader, 543

the light from your shared room casts boothill’s figure in shadows and angles as it streams through the curtains and spills across the covers — in the silence of the bed, you hear the distant bleating of sheep and mooing of cattle somewhere far in the fields. the sound reminds you of a childhood trip to the countryside that you had long forgotten, lost and muddled somewhere in the back burner of your mind, but with this moment and these sounds it comes rushing back to you.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” beside you, your lover’s foul mouth indicates that he is less than pleased to have forgotten to draw the curtains close last night, again. boothill grunts beside you, stirring in bed and burrowing his head underneath the pillow in effort to hide from the sun.

“mhm,” your own bleary eyes blink in the light that filters in through the gaps between the curtains. deciding that yes, it is indeed much too early for it to be so bright, you turn over and away from the window, burying your face in the broad expanse of boothill’s back.

boothill grumbles tiredly, and you — sweet you, darling you, the love of his life and the fire of his loins — just hum. the tension coiled around his wide shoulders eases when he feels your lips press against an old scar on his back, your softer, uncalloused fingers curling along his pec, where the unshaven scruff of chest hair continues to grow.

“c’mere, ya,” boothill rolls over with a shift of the mattress beneath your bodies as you press against him.

your sweet affection towards him in the morning light never ceases to make him weak, and his heart aches from the tenderness of your touch as you press against him, running your hands over his chest while he grunts softly and pushes himself against your hand. he wants to shift closer, push himself against you till he can make a home in the soft warmth of your skin, and the two of you can forever be one entity so he would never have to part from you.

eh, an old cowboy can have his dreams.

you raise your head so boothill can slip his arm underneath, letting his bicep act as a pillow for your soft head. when you do not open your eyes, he nudges you lightly.

“y’ gon’ wake up, toots?” he rasps, voice still groggy from sleep.

“five more minutes,” you groan, which roughly means it’ll be an hour or two before boothill can properly get you out of bed.

boothill sighs as he lets his arms pull you to him completely, your head laying on his bicep now while you remains with your eyes closed. his own head falls back heavily against the pillows, hair cast over the simple linen in a mess of black and white.

he buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply — it is your perfume now that is an irresistible bouquet, the scent of sunshine and something sweet, and boothill relaxes into the embrace he holds you in, closing his eyes as he too lets sleep overcome him.

his chores out in the ranch can wait a lil’ longer.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️

Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification

“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.

“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”

The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.

Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.

“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.

“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.

“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”

“But what?”

“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”

—

While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.

“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”

Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.

You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.

“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”

As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.

If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…

“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”

“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.

It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…

“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”

The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.

“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.

A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.

“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”

A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…

For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.

“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.

Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.

You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.

It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–

“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.

“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.

You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……

His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…

[roseyodditea]

Sit Still! - Boothill x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.1k words. You're a mechanic who's been forcibly given the impossible task of repairing Boothill, the most stubborn customer you've ever done (even if this wasn't the first time)

Warnings -> None

A/N -> Is it obvious that I like working on electronics? No? Not proofread because I work a 7-5 office job and I am tired <3

********

“Hey! HEY! you keep that fudgin’ thing away from me!” Boothill jumps over the workbench in the middle of your workshop, watching your movements carefully. He was quite agile for a man that was on death’s door when he stumbled in here a mere half hour ago. 

You put the hot soldering pen down on the table against the wall. “Boothill. Let me do what I need to do.” Boothill crouches down like a wild animal, practically growling, his jaw clenched tightly. “What are you planning on doin’ with that thing?” “How the hell have you gone this long without using a soldering iron? How do you keep your body functional?” You lunge and reach for the back of his jacket, grabbing him by the collar as he tries to skitter away, but his damaged systems cause him to be slower and weaker than normal. “Whatever that thing is, my sensors say it’s hot and it smells forkin’ awful!” He tries even harder to wiggle out of your grasp, but he doesn't want to hurt you. You were the only mechanic in this star system that still put up with his shit. “Normally they turn me off for repairs. I ain’t never been awake for one.”

“Yeah well. I need you conscious for this part.” You shove him towards the workbench and he obeys, sitting up on it. “Lay down, open up your chest panel.” You command and push him down. 

“What are you plannin’?” He bites back the distrust and decides to lie down on the bench. He opens up his chest panel and watches you closely, the targets in his pupils lock on like he was about to rip out your jugular with those sharp teeth of his. “I will explain everything I do before I do it. Will that make things better?” You muster a soft tone, trying not to show that you are annoyed at his behavior already. Sure you had the stubborn electronics and machines that made you lose sleep, but this is the first time the repair work was done on someone who could give you sass. You don’t have the bedside manners for this…

Boothill still watches wearily, but at this point, he has no choice, his systems are borderline critical. He had already ignored the warnings for this long. “Alright… yeah… that’ll make it better.” You pick back up the soldering iron and show it to him. “This is a soldering pen. I’m going to use it to melt this stuff,” you pick up the roll of the thin metal that was on the table next to it, “onto the contacts between your wires and your circuit boards. It’ll help make sure everything is secure and won’t wiggle out of place. I need you awake because I need you to tell me if I set off any alarms and sensors in your body. Just as a failsafe to make sure I don’t accidentally kill you”

“Kill me!?”

“It’s a joke. Now shut up and don’t move”

He nods, still weary as you reach both your hands into his chest compartment, where he can’t see. He tries to hold down the panic, the fear, the worry. This was the most vulnerable he has ever been. This is why he likes being powered down for repairs. This was hell. The smell of molten tin permeates the air, only stressing him out further. 

“Calm down.” You say without looking up. “You’re fidgeting and I’m trying not to burn either of us.” He doesn’t listen. Of course, he doesn’t listen. His legs still fidget, his hands still move around, gripping the table. “Kinda hard when you’re wrist deep in my body. It tickles.”

“Boothill. Hold still.” You growl out, frustration building in your chest. This was delicate work on a not-so-delicate man. “Next time you squirm, I swear to whatever Aeon you worship-” He twitched again and your hand slipped, the soldering pen touching his bare circuit board, causing him to yelp out in pain. “Goddammit Boothill!!”

He shrinks away, recoiling from pain and your frustration. “Ah, shirt! It feels weird and I-” His words are cut off as you move to straddle his thighs, pinning his fidgeting legs underneath you. You point the hot soldering iron at his face. “Move again, and I will turn you off and just pray I don’t mix up wires.”

“Yes, boss.” He says, stunned as his hands instinctively move to rest on your thighs. “Ya know, last time I had someone on me like this I-” “Don’t” You reply, your hands working on sorting out the mess of wires he had let his innards become. You solder another wire down and look up into his eyes. “Is that one in the wrong spot?” “No, that feels right. I forgot I had that sensor.” He chuckles, relaxing against the workbench. “This ain’t that bad.” His hands gently trace circles against the material of your pants in an attempt to soothe his own anxiety. He could feel every movement your fingers made in his chest compartment. 

“Yeah, and it only took me thirty fucking minutes to get you to sit still.” You finish soldering all the wires down, satisfied with your work. “Alright. All done.” You toss the hot iron onto the table across the workshop. “See? Not that bad. You’re just whiny.” You move to get up, only to have Boothill tug you back down onto his lap, sitting up so you both are face to face. 

“Thank you.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know you were capable of genuine gratitude.” You tease, grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head. 

He adjusts his hat into the proper place. “I know I owe you credits, but what can I do to thank you, sugar? This ain’t the first time I’ve stumbled into your workshop late at night, mostly dead.”

“Just come back alive again.” You knock his hat out of place on purpose, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “That’s good enough for me.” You hop off of the workbench. “Now get the hell out and let me go to sleep. It’s too late at night to be lookin’ at your face.” “Yes, boss.” 

“See ya next time.” “There won’t be a next time.” He tries to keep up his tough appearance as you roll your eyes and move to sort and put away your tools. He smiles to himself and purposefully takes his whip off his belt, tossing it on the table while your back is turned and he slips out. 

Once you knew he had fully slipped away, you rolled your eyes, grabbing the whip and hanging it up on the hook you installed on the wall just for this purpose. 

He always left a reason to come back, and you always pretended to be oblivious to it. 

**********

Super special super optional A/N -> someone sent me an anonymous message a couple days ago saying they like my writing and I CRIED. Turns out when you break out of your comfort zone and share a hobby you get support??? Odd.

[heavenlyraindrops]

BOOTHIL X READER PELALSPELLSLS I KNOW NOTHING AB HIM AND ITS BEEN A BIT SINCE I OPENED THE GAME BUT I WANT HIM SO BAD AND I AM SAVING SO MUCH TO GET HIM PSLSOSLSLSL

ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ——> saw this pic in a post by @lynettess then I got this req and I just. I had to

Warnings: profanity, very suggestive, Boothill kinda has an accent or smth idk it’s not bad or anything

A/N: see more of her as in, more often? Or in the other way…? Thanks for the ask Adonis. Sorry this was so short tho :( mayb if it gets enough notes I’ll write a pt. 2…

Your plans for a Friday night definitely weren’t to get drunk in some obscure bar in the middle of nowhere, lost all sight of your friend who had dragged you out for a ‘good night.’ They definitely weren’t to be sitting so close to Boothill, to the point where his metal torso was pressed against your warm one, sending a thrill through your body- but his breath fanning across your face was warm.

The alcohol coursed through your system, making you more sluggish than usual- though you were sober enough. Not sober enough to stop and think about whether or not you should get so close to a stranger, and a cyborg at that- albeit an attractive one. Boothill tilted his head to the side, smirk playing across his lips as you giggled at something he said while taking another sip from your glass. 

Your eyes searched your friend out through the crowd of the hot bar, but couldn’t see her anywhere. His hand went to your chin, fixing your gaze back onto his own face. 

“Eyes here,” he said. You grinned, again, face burning, although you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat or from his actions as you swept a couple of strands of hair from your own face. “Didn’t anyone tell ya it’s rude to not look at someone when they’re talkin’?” 

You leaned precariously on your elbow, swirling the amber liquid in your glass. “Apologies,” you teased, hand pressed to your chest. His eyes followed the action. “How ever could I make it up to you?” 

He leaned back, away from you, and you leaned into him again, and his grin only widened. Your eyes traced the marks under his eye and your heart thrummed against your chest. “A favour? From a pretty thing like you? I could never accept that.”

You held up your hand. “Hey, when did I offer you a favour?” You complained, trying to fight the colour rising to your cheeks at his little remark. He tipped his head back to laugh and the sinful thoughts filling your head as you looked at him were definitely not seeing you through to the pearly gates. 

The past hour had been a blur, from when he had slid into the seat next to you, smoothly talking you into flirtatious conversation, up until now, where the tension was tugging at your fervently. And you were so, so close to grabbing him and simply begging him to-

“What’s wrong, sugar? Can’t handle a little compliment?”

No, no, I can’t. Not when it comes from you. Great, now I’m fucking wet. You smiled coolly and took another sip of your drink. “Not when it comes from you,” you shot back, echoing your previous thought. 

“Nice to know I have that sort of effect on ya, sweetheart,” he murmured, and the metal tip of his finger tracing a path along your collarbone. You froze at the provocative touch, hands tightening around your glass, growing more and more restless. 

“Is it?” You stuttered, fighting to keep your voice level. He chuckled, hand dropping down to your waist. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, and suddenly moved back. Your muscles tightened with apprehension- anticipation? You couldn’t tell. 

And then he took his hat off and set it on your head. 

You burned at the thought of the implications of the action as his finger traced the rim of the accessory. “I’m assumin’ ya don’t have any specific plans for the rest of the night?” You took off his hat, setting it in your lap. 

“Well, I didn’t.” You locked eyes with him. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“But I do now.”

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Frustrated Pleasures ✦ 」 (SMUT +18)

Boothill x reader

↳ How did it all end up like this? You, on his bed, spread and a senseless fuck doll. The once sly and cool demeanored ranger to a hot, sweaty and panting mess—yearning to get his frustrations out.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Warnings: Sex, degration, slapping, overstimulation.

Tags: @volliix

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

Your sweet moans filled Boothill's ears like music while skin to skin contact filled the roams empty silence.

"God {Y/N}.." He panted, thrusting back in. His cock dissapearing once more into your overstimulated hole—making your nerves feel a overwhelming rippling sensation of pleasure.

Just a while ago, Boothill was as sly and neutral as he always has been and now? He was mercilessly ravaging you like a dog in heat.

Just how did that happen?

Acheron.

Simple as that, you mentioned her name once and just like that, here you were, spread upon the mattress and fucked senselessly by the Galaxy Ranger.

"B-Boothill, s' too much !" You whined out, clawing into the pillow even harder as his shaft touched your sensitive spot perfectly. "Did I say you...can speak, you fucking slut..." He hissed between breaths and thrust, slapping your ass.

Your breath hitched at the painful pleasure from the contact yet ultimately tried your best keeping quiet.

"This.." He grunted, fastening and hardening his pace. "-is what you deserve, ya?" He chuckled before tugging your hair, it acting as a leash of sorts. You moaned out a sob of yes's. "Good fucking slut." He praised with a chuckle, letting go of your hair, moving one hand to your hips and the other to your wrists, pinning them above your head to the pillow.

You moaned out as you felt a deep knot form in the bit of your stomach. "S-shit..you cummin' already?" He panted. You only whinned in response.

He chuckled once more, going faster n' harder, slamming his cock deep into your needy hole—earning a deep moan from you as the knot got tighter.

"I'm gonna-!" You hissed out as your eyes rolled back but felt the pit of your stomach drop as you felt him pull away, leaving your hole throbbing in desperation for the pleasuring feeling once more.

"W-why, p-please I was—I was so close..!" You whined, trying to move your hips for friction. "P-please-!" You were shut up with a small slap to the cheek. "Shut the fuck up." Boothill seethed, "get on your stomach." He demanded, his tone cold and sweaty.

Obliging, you rolled over before you letting a yelp out as you felt cold metal hands lift your hips up. Without warning, you moaned a grunt as you felt him enter back in, filling the empty feeling once more. Without hesitation, he started moving his hips at a quick pace—the knot returning once more.

As he moved he chuckled into your neck. "Your going to be my little fuck doll—rid all of my frustrations, into your little cunt, yeah?" He breathed out, grunting at just the thought.

"F-fuck im close, you are too huh darlin'?" He panted. You could barely comprehend his words. All you could do was weakly nod asyour jaw parted from the pleasure.

"Hell..then fucking cum." He demanded, his pace going faster with every thrust. He could feel you clenched desperately around him to relieve the aching feeling.

"Oh God-!" "If you think God's going to be here, your a mistaken fool." Boothill commented with a chuckle. Before you could even process words, your body seized as you moaned loudly, cumming around his cock—your walls fluttering in a rhythmic pace.

"There we go.." He grinned before fastering his pace to reach his edge—overstimulating you in the process.

"Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck...!" He grunted loudly as he emptied his load within you. His thrusts slowing down until he was emptied out.

Only the sounds of your beating hearts and fast needy breathes filled the room. You were exhausted, your energy had depleted immensely and your lungs still worked to catch their much needed air.

Unfortunately for you, the galaxy ranger was no where near done—his frustration still lingering like new.

Your eyes widened in terror as you felt him roll you over once more before lifting your lower half up to meet with his still hardened length. "Didn't I say you'd be my frustration dumpster?"

..........

A/N: What the hell did I just write.

...

Ok before any miscommunication occurs; yes, i'm a minor. Yes, it does say +18. This fic was supposed to be a little thing to prove to my friend that smut isn't that hard to write and to get clout; a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do 😔 (This is my first time writing smut-) It may not be the best but it isn't the worst..I think-.

This is the only smut fic i'll be doing on this page until I say otherwise. You can think i'm a hypocrite for making this, but any harsh and negative comments will be deleted as I have already explained why this exists. If you need me to explain further, i'll answer questions.

[yuumenakaiser]

How to give proper affection; guide by Y/n

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Boothill x gn!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Lots of fluff ♪⁠～ a bit crack ♪⁠～ not edited yet-

Step 1 : locate the boothill

Today will be a special day, a really special day. A day where you are going to learn how to give affection to Boothill. The proper way of course. So whoever needs to know this. It's our special day of teaching! Well you already have a good prepared plan and it will work for 100%. It's bullet proof, you tested it. How you may ask yourself, you don't know yourself. Great. So-

Cough.

To start this operation you first need to check your weapon. Your hands and lips, what else? Perhaps a pokeba-

Whatever. Your eyes scan the surroundings, the area where boothill should linger around. His favorite place to be alone at sometimes. But today will be different.

And mhm! There he is, you spotted the innocent Boothill who has no clue about all this. He was relaxing on a field eyes closed, letting the sun tickle his face. The only part where he could actually feel touches.

Crouching down between the bushes and carefully moving towards the galaxy ranger without making any noises.

"no one can hide from my sight." you whispered before you leapt forward to attack him. Boothill was now pressed against the grass, his eyes opened and a chuckle escaped his lips. Making you feel the vibration on his chest. His Cowboy hat has fallen off from your attack.

"whoa there! Watcha up to again pumpkin? Tryna trick me with yer sly games again?" Boothill caressed your hair and gave you one of his sharp smiles.

Now it's the right time to begin the second operation! You completed step 1 successfully what a proud feeling.

Step 2 : touch the face of boothill

Moving on to step 2. It is time to get serious, sit down on his stomach so there is no chance to escape at all for him. Boothill blushes slightly from your action and as you refused to let him go but that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you show him the love he deserves!

"a successful hunt! It's time to move to plan b." You whisper yelled to yourself and let boothill pick up on that you really are playing your games.

"y/n sweet pie I should be the hunter not yer-"

Before he could finish his tricking sentences, you cup his face with your hands and start touching it. Sto

Stroking his cheeks with your thumbs in a rhythmic motion. His cheeky grin faded into a comfortable soft smile and let you do your little plans. He leaned into your touches and moved his head to the side grabbing you by the wrist and placing a kiss on it.

Your face slightly heats up from his affection towards you. This is failing, he should be the one to blush and not the other way around.

"hold still or I have to take stricter measures!"

Boothill furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you a little confused but plays along with you.

"is that so y/n darling? Watcha got in petto." And here he started grinning again and giving your wrist more kisses. You gasped "the prey is trying to charm me, im repeating the prey is trying to charm me I need to move to step 3!"

Boothill let out a deep chuckle again and buries his face deeper in your hands.

"mhm and what is yer step 3?"

"a secret! A full missionary secret!"

Step 3: face cuddles and kisses

You almost failed the operation but you planned everything of course and this next step will totally make him flustered. He won't take the advantage anymore this is your guide and attack of how to give boothill proper affection.

You are slowly using your secret weapon for this. You took a deep breath, placing your hands onto his shoulders. Leaning towards his face and then pressing your cheek against his one. He raises a brow and wraps one of his arms around you and with his other hand he touches your free cheek.

With this position you begin to rub your cheek gently against his and cuddle his face. Smiling proudly and pressing now the other side to rub yours with his as well.

His hand moves to your hair, stroking and playing with it while you do the face cuddling.

"Why yer being so cute today? What's with all these touches on me? Missed me that much, have ya?" Without answering him only humming you move to step 4!

Step 4: ultimate kisses

It is time...for the real weapon...the one everyone would fear...the ultimate kisses.

A huge grin appears on your face, pulling away from rubbing your cheeks against boothills.

You grab again his pretty precious face in your hands. "Are you ready for this Boothill?" He tilts his head lazily and stares into your eyes. Giving you a wide smile again that reveals his sharp teeths.

"ready for anything love."

And with that you start to place kisses all over his face. First off starting to kiss his forehead, moving down to his eyebrows, nose and then cheeks.

Kissing his chin and then you spot his lips and place the ultimate kiss on his lips.

"my my~ look at my dear being the sweetest."

Satisfied with your operation you roll away from him and happily yell "mission completed!!"

But little did you know that boothill will not let you go so easily after that. A shadow appeared in front of you.

"where do yer think ya goin huh? Now we will play my game my sweet prey."

Okay but the end wasn't planned! Now you need to try to escape from him. Time to move to step 5- well actually it has no use anyway there is no way you can escape his hungry eyes.

Upsies.

[k9wa]

⟁ 7:14 PM ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — braiding his hair bc my brain is rotting and i miss him.

⚠︎ fluff, thats really it, mechanic!reader but its not really relevant, suggestive if you squint and cover one eye and hang upside down. gn reader, wc 860.

boothill's head was lulled back between a pair of soft, comfy thighs, eyes a content and lazy half lidded as he felt some familiar calloused and precise fingers detangling little pieces of his hair. the sun was almost down past the horizon, and the last few warm rays peeking out left the room hued a gentle orange colour, its two inhabitants bathing in it.. 

he felt a slight tug here and there as you worked your magic, taking the knots out of those long white locks with patient fingers.

“you have such pretty hair.”

you mused quietly, combing out another strand with your nails. boothill's lips tugged up lightly in a gentle smirk— a hint of pride washing over him. he was a bigger sucker for praise than he’d ever admit.

“well, it’s gotta look good if it’s gonna match th’rest of me.” he drawled, voice a low rumble filled with a certain ease that rarely surfaced— well, rarely with others, anyway. he received a playful tug of his hair in response.boothill leaned back a bit more, trying to catch a glimpse of your endearing focussed expression.

he was slowly melting against your deft fingertips, silently whirring internals mimicking the quiet purr of a cat as you twirled a piece around your finger. 

“can i braid it?” you asked simply, already sectioning out a few strands at the top. 

“do whatever you want, sugar.” he granted with a little shrug, smirk still playing on his lips. “reckon a braid’ll help keep it from flyin’ into my eyes so much.”

he felt the rhythmic crossing of each strand as you began to braid, every brush of your nails against his scalp sending a pleasant shiver right through his wires.

“y’know,” he opened, voice still that gravely tone you could never get enough of. “ain’t nobody else i’d sit still for like this.” he admitted, brashness taking a backseat to give way to a tenderness reserved for one person only.

“yeah?” you smiled a bit, continuing to braid. “just for me, huh?”

boothill couldn’t help but let out a scruff, throaty chuckle, vibrations running through his chest.“just for you, darlin’.” he echoed.

 “you’ve got a magic touch, i s’ppose,” his eyes shut briefly. “could get used to this.”

the melodic and methodic movements of your fingers were earnestly making him drowsy, a soothing lullaby that laced and weaved around him in the same patterns as his hair. 

“like being pampered?” you teased playfully, earning a chuckle from him.

“you just got a way of makin’ a man feel real special. that’s all.”

your fingers kept slowly crossing and twisting strands.

“you should let me curl it some day,” you suggested, amusing yourself with the thought of him dawning a bunch of puffy ringlets. “you’d look like ‘genti.”

boothill's low laughter echoed quietly in the room, a deep sound that harmonised with your own. 

“now that’d be somethin’ to see,” he admitted with a playful scoff. “ol’ boothill with curls bouncin’ around like some dandy.”

he shook his head as he pictured it, and you had to flick his cheek to remind him to look straight.

“i'd sport some curls if it meant i get to see you smilin’.”

you smiled fondly at that, taking a small hair tie and wrapping it around the tail of his braid.

“you’re sweeter than you let on.” you reached around to fix his bangs a little bit. 

“there.” you tilted his head up a bit to look at him, feigning shock. “well, ain’t you pretty?”

hearing his own southern drawl echoed back to him made the cowboy snort. “ain’t i just the belle of the ball now?”

boothill's hand instinctively reached back to feel your handiwork, prosthetic fingers tracing along the weaves of his hair.

“mighty fine job, sugar plum.” he commended, turning around to face you on his knees, hands sliding up your thighs until they met behind your back in a careful hug around your waist. he looked up at you— really looked at you, that mushy softness in him pushing out through the cracks you always left in his defences. 

“thanks, darlin’.” he said quietly, those red cruciform pupils locked in on your own. “means more’en you might know, you spendin’ your time fussin’ over me like this.”

the cyborg’s head fell comfortably down in your lsp, nuzzling into you.

“i think fussing over you is a full time job,” you teased lightly, a smile evident in your voice. “not that i mind.”

one of your hands traced the mechanical connections of his arm, all the way up until your fingers gave a gentle brush to his cheek.

boothill let out a breathy chuckle, some air fanning across your tummy. his fingers, a soothing and smooth cool metal, traced little shapes along your lower back.

“well, i reckon i oughta start payin’ you overtime for such dedication.” he quipped quietly, demeanour playful yet earnest as always.

“paying me to start might be better.” you gave a playful pinch to his cheek.  

“i got a few ideas for how i can pay ya,” he teased back, giving a little nip to your thigh.

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[gh0st-onesh0ts]

A Stranger that i once knew- Boothill x Gn!reader

"We've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars We've seen everything from Saturn to Mars As much as it seems like you own my heart It's astronomy, we're two worlds apart"

t/w- burns on y/n, past memories

summary- Boothill finds you in a flower shops years after the incident

a/n-please for the love of god imagine him with a cowboy accent, i cant write one :(

Nav

It was a slow day at the shop, rain covered the windows and the big glass doors. You sat at the front desk making flower arrangements to hang outside the day it stopped raining. Lavender, Tuplips-

“I need flowers for my daughter's grave.” A tall cowboy barged in through the front door. He looked like he wasn’t human.

“Oh, I'm Sorry for your loss.”

The large man stayed silent after that. you quickly scurried around collecting all the flowers that you needed for the bouquet Lillies, Hydrangea and what else? You thought to yourself. While putting together this arrangement you felt the man's eyes burn into you. He studied your every movement, like you were gonna pull a gun on him at any moment.

“Whats your name?”

“Y/n.” As your name left your lips, the mans eyes widen.

“Y-y/n? I thought you died in the fire.”

The fire that had left your body scared. The fire that had left a mark of shame on almost all of your body. You instinctively grabbed the side of your neck.

“why… why did you run?”

Why did you run? Because you were scared? Because you couldn't be a parent, because you were ashamed that you couldn't save your daughter? You don't remember anymore. You'd pushes that bit of your past down so much…

“Boothill-”

“Y/n!” His showed his sharp teeth. “You ran! Leaving me with nothin’! I thought you died!”

“I was scared!” You yelled back. You've never been much for yelling matches, but this was the only way you could get it across. “I was ashamed… I couldn't save our daughter.”

Boothill seemed to tense up at your answer. He seemed to have a tough exterior but you swear you could see tears in his eyes. He met your eyes and walked closer to you, clutching his hat against his chest. “Darling…”

Your vision bargain to go blurry as tears began to fall. It had been years, you'd forgotten how much you missed him. “She would've been 13 this year.”

“Yes. Darling she would've.”

“I'm sorry!” The tears you'd been holding in for years spilled out.

Your coworker finally came out of the back room, and seeing your tears she instantly turned to Boothill. “What did you do!”

“I didn't do nothing!”

“Likely story!”

“no he's right… he didn't do anything.”

“then what the hell happened?”

Neither of you said a word, your coworker wrapped an arm around your shoulder trying to comfort you. Boothill couldn't help but look at you with sad eyes. He didn't know what to do, he'd been alone for so many years human emotion was strange to him.

“would you like to go visit her grave?

“Yea… yes I would.”

Your coworker still looked at him with eagle eyes. “If you hurt a hair on their head, I'll swear to aeons.”

[rolankisser]

Ache Within

hii everyone! this is my first boothill oneshot so enjoy. I never wrote him nor posted smut sooo….any feedback is blessed. This was a oneshot i made for a friend bc she’s a boothill lover LMAOO, hope you like him as much as her cause it’s gonna hurt!

Mature Content:

Boothill x F!Reader, shameless smut, little to no plot, unrequited feelings (not really), give this cowboy a hug please, metal cock, P in V Sex, Edging, no kissing, overstimulation.

You can also find it on my AO3!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57066385?view_adult=true

“You and Boothill never had anything there. Perhaps passing glances and light touches, nothing more you can do when you are constantly on the run from the IPC. But sometimes when you can pay the fee for a room, you may find yourself underneath the man who has been invading everything--especially love.”

So a pretty gal like you is truly waitin' for me?"

That smoky voice you came to relish in at any chance swells your heart big, just hearing his voice with its casual, rough accent that wasn't common on Penacony or any planet you have run to. It may be why it always brought warmth between your thighs and lower belly. He was different. The creaking on the cheap wooden floor signals his movement toward you, a classic motel with the smell of bourbon and cigarette ash. You could have gotten something more excellent, maybe a lavish hotel room on the main street of the bustling planet, but that's never been the case for you two, and that can't be the case for you two. Something secluded and secret was the atmosphere you two ravished in the most. At least the bed you sit on is comfortable; you wear your undergarments, and a soft breeze emanating from the small balcony in the room causes goosebumps on your body.

You can help but let a grin fall over your face as you turn to face the man who has haunted you every corner you go, every alley, every time you go to sleep. Sleep has always been where you can find him, waiting for you.

"Surely I would not be waiting for anyone else; only you ever find me." You hum out cheekily, lifting your head to meet the figure that towered over you.

Your feet lightly touched the roughness of his boots as you sat at the edge of the bed. His arms caged your figure, each hand meeting the plush of your thighs; they immediately squeezed together from the light and cold touch of his metal palms. Your eyes met his, the onyx-colored shade staring directly into yours. Of course, he could only find you. Leaving a trail, he could only see why this little rendezvous had happened more to your liking, Boothill's toothy grin plastered on his pale skin. If you could, you would worship him; his facial structure could go on par with the gods that haunted this galaxy; it's why you find your hand cupping the side of his cheek, the only part of him that kept human warmth. Thumb gliding on his plush skin, and he leans towards your palm the slightest bit, a gesture that makes you swallow back.

"No wonder you wear just these. Surely you ain't want anyone just to see—" Boothill whispers as he leans towards your ear. Ever so gently, his rigged breath touches it. Gods, did it make you shiver and squirm, but his grip stands firm on your thighs. "only lil ole' me." He finishes as his hand slowly travels up your thigh, going under the thin fabric that lightly covers his destination. You sigh softly before taking your hand off his face, stealing that lovely cowboy hat he always wore and placing it next to you on the bed. "You're the only one who can get me like this- the only cowboy in all of Penacony." Airly, you spoke as you felt his sharp teeth nip at the corner of your ear as a reaction to your admission to him. Boothills hand immediately follows and pushes you back against the bed as he crawls almost entirely over you. He lifts his head back towards you, facing you directly; his eyes blow wide, filled with a hint of desire but seemingly Nothing more. He waits momentarily before you nod your head, a silent agreement you two are only aware of. Most of this arrangement did not use many words, the most being the snappy, quick back and forth, and dirty talk. That's what Boothill played the most in this game of lust and passion. His metal hands curled at the edges of the fabric before pulling down your panties, the partially soaked material thrown somewhere in the room. His hand finally palmed your desire; the cold yet smooth fingers were ready to enter. You whimper out in a plea; Boothill's smile played once more on his face before he leaned down and nipped at the skin above your breast; they perk up at the feeling of his teeth leaving a purple mark in his wake as he traveled up to your collarbone then neck where he stayed leaving more marks. Your hands immediately reached towards his leather belt, fiddling over the buckle before it fell abruptly along with his holster.

"Not yet, always so greedy." Boothill teased as his fingers slowly entered your slick slit, the sounds of your wetness taking up the room as you let out a pitched moan from the invasion of his fingers. The cold mixed with your warm walls was almost heavenly. His cyborg appearance made a difference compared to a human one; it was so different. So much pleasure for you, something new. The edge of his palm, finding your perky clit rubbed it roughly as he found a rhythm and trusted his two fingers. The dexterity of his hands is one you admire; no wonder he could handle a gun so well and invade the IPC for so long with a large bounty compared to your own. Your mind grew fuzzy as the pace of his fingers finally found the spot of all your pleasure; it was as if that area in your body was crafted just for his fingers. The sounds of your pants mixed with the gushing sounds of his hands continuously plunging and stretching you, his groans reaching your ears. Opening your tear-filled eyes, you saw his half-lidded ones and a look of determination to finish and please you. "Fuck- Boothill-" You moaned loudly as your back arched into his metal chest; the cold plates of his body touching your nipples brought new pleasure that shot to your apex. His fingers started going faster, almost knowingly. Your reaching your climax was halted quickly, and his hands retrieved promptly out of you, leaving a new empty sensation; a whine left you almost immediately.

"Perfect." He mumbled into your skin, leaving another nip into your bruised neck. He looks into your eyes before cupping your chin as you bite your bottom lip. A sharp breath left your nose as your legs quickly found a place around his hips. A harsh grunt and laugh left him, "I swear to god- don't tease me." You cried out, your hands moving from gripping the sheets under you and finding his hair that lay messily over his shoulders. "What? I can't leave a girl waiting, and I wanna give her something more." Boothill replied with pride as he moved his hands covered in your slick; he licked it clean in slow agony. You couldn't help but push yourself towards his hips; you felt the hard metal touch your warm core. Soon, his hands found the inside of your thighs, pushing them achingly apart as he watched your minor reactions. The way your body reacted just for him. It left him always a little surprised yet cocky.

One thing was this never went further than just your pleasure; he made sure you got the attention you wanted. It never went further than him splitting your and milking you for hours as you wanted with just his hands and mouth. But tonight, he wanted to try something new, one that he wanted to see how you reacted. Mostly, he never felt anything when you two finally touched the lines of lust that spurred out of you, but only light lingered from him. Maybe the cheeky and cocky attitude he held is what you liked. Boothill enjoyed the gaze you gave him and how you challenged him, but he couldn't desire more; of course, he wanted to relieve himself like he did to you. But what would it do for him? He pulled his pants down slightly, enough so that his noticeably missing bulge was meant to leave your eyes staring in one of confusion. Until, with a push of his hand on it, it grew into a metal cock almost instantly; his cyborg body didn't allow him to feel what he wanted to, not ever since he came to be this. But he never used this mechanic it came with; it almost pulsated like a Well-flesh one. It caused him to shudder even within the metal. His eyes met yours as he saw how blown wide they were with lust. He hadn't noticed one of your hands leave his hair and return to your face as you bit the tip of your thumb, getting an itch of arousal out of him. How your skin lightly glowed from the sweat of getting to the most of your pleasure only to be edged wanting even more.

"Hells, it's as if you want me to fill you.." Boothill mumbled as he glided a finger from your slit to your clit, making you moan loudly. Your free hand slid from this silky hair down his smooth chest to his newly freed cock. He groaned almost instantly, causing the grip of his hand on your inner thigh to get tighter. "If you want your reward, I wanna hear it." You felt your throat go dry as your watched his hand leave your needy hole and move to grip is metal cock, slowly moving so the tip sat nicely between the two slits, not going fully in. It's just a light tease to leave you wanting it. You almost need it. No, you wanted it. But god, he had that classic cocky grin on his face.

"If you don't, just, Boothill, please.." You whined a bit, the pressure of his cock readily waiting to split you open. It was just babble talk. Boothill grinded his hips a bit, giving a slight dip into you and sending an almost vibration. Vibration? Boothill's eyes widened before Boothill instantly started laughing, gods his cock was vibrating when he moved his hips. "Hells, please just fuck me." You begged, and he hummed in reply. Slowly sinking himself into you, and your legs instinctively shudder and try to clamp him in. Instead, Boothill takes one of his hands and lifts your leg more, hooking it to his shoulder, allowing him to reach a new angle that leaves you like putty in his arms. The dirty yet beautiful sounds you sang made him push even harder until he was hip to hip and deep in you. You felt him stretch you; it left a slight, sharp feeling that had you taking a deep breath as he sunk. Yet just him sinking into you had you seeing stars, and the new angle has you praising the gods above. You feel his hand push lightly on your lower belly, causing you to let out the breath you were holding in; you whimper from the pleasure. His cock fits so well that it vibrates lightly, making you constantly squirm, feeling almost overstimulated from the feeling of it at that specific spot inside of you.

"You ready to ride a cowboy, sweetheart?"

Boothill announces as he removes his jacket, just keeping his pants on that leaves his cock out. As soon as his jacket landed on the wooden floor, one hand went back to the thigh of the leg on his shoulder and the other on the hill over your breast, painfully slow his fingers landed on your nipples as he rubbed the nub in a circling as he finally thrusts in you. It's almost as frantic and hard as he does as if he is chasing a high. But it was hitting your high. Boothill watches his eyes constantly watch how your ass hits his hips with each thrust into your warm and gushy cunt. He feels every single hit of your spot as if your pleasure is echoing back to him, causing him to let out a string of groans. His hand that was playing with your previously neglected breasts landed on the side of your head; he leaned more over you. Almost the position you were both in was similar to a mating press, sending immense pleasure into you. You moaned, whined, cried. Pretty tears wet your lashes as you glanced at him.

His pretty face was covered his sweat, and the birthmark under his eye highlighted the intense focus he had to make sure of fucking you so nicely. Something new, something that almost awakened you to something. Something like love, fuck, you loved this man. All those sly glances, the small touches as you two flew by each other when attacking the common enemy you shared and wanted justice for the wrongs they had done to you, even if this- whatever you can call these gatherings for you two. You desired for this man, Boothill was ultimately another thing you were fighting for every day other than for your wishes. His white hair intertwined with black strands now sticking to his face and the rest behind him and moving with him as he thrusts his hips in the same rapid rhythm in you. The way his hand continued to grip your thigh once he let go, you see the imprint of his metal hand on your plush skin; soon, it found its way back to your lower tummy. Boothill pressed pressure once more. Every time his tip hit your cervix, he made sure to press down, giving sparks of pleasure.

More, more, and more until you spilled. You finally feel your climax hit you with a storm, one leg that is hugged into his waist tightened on him. The other was shaking on his shoulder when he noticed the sudden spark. "Boothill!" You exclaimed as your spilled out cum on his metal vibrating cock. But he only hushed you as he continued going; one thing was obvious he couldn't spill into you; he couldn't cum. He could just keep going for as long as he wanted to, and for you, it made you crazy. Boothill watched as your milky substances covered his metal cock, pulling out almost all the way to get a look at the sight. He couldn't help but look into your fucked out eyes and the way your hair stuck to your body, and the bit of salvia on your chin.

Boothill knew what he felt deep down; he felt a feeling of appreciation and some romantic desire for you. But he wouldn't act on that, yet Boothill was fucking you through your orgasm; now moving the position in ease as he moved your leg from his shoulder back to his him and turning to his back, you now onto of him. Warming his cock that's stuffed in you as he holds you by your hips directly.

Now, you were really riding the cowboy.

Yet that's all you will do, as the round went again. With Boothill helping you bounce on his cock, his groans and dirty sounds mixed with the sounds of yours, the new sounds you never heard from him. He Vibrated almost even faster than before. Boothill would want more, but why form these attachments? Honestly, it was the fear of losing and loving someone. His thoughts clouded him as he seemingly thrust as you bounced. He was a cowboy as free as the wind. They used to say back on his planet. No one could ever catch him. Love couldn't catch him no matter how much he wanted it to; he had a mission, and you knew that. Yet he knew you felt something more. Boothill can see it even now, the way your fucked out eyes still held a flame of yearning and love for him, and it made his heartache as he fucked you. The way your hands caressed his metal chest so lovingly, the small touches he can only feel so lightly compared to the pleasure he feels on his cock from you. Soon, his hands moved from your hips to your lower tummy. He pressed down once more, and you took him so well. The way you squirmed even more as you bounced on him.

"You take me so well, dont'cha?" He groaned out with his husky laugh. And all you could do was nod lightly as your eyes rolled back, and you panted and moaned so sweetly for him. You were seeing stars, even brighter than the ones out in the sky. The night went by as the sound of skin and metal slapping against each other. The sounds of love making echoing the room the air was thick and hot of ecstasy, you don't know how long its been, but you had orgasmed more then twice already. Your ass was sore from the constant hit of metal from riding the man in front of you, now thighs caging Boothills as he nipped and left love marks between the valley of your breasts. Your throat was dried, and your thighs were sticky from your own slick and cum. And as you hit your peak once more, you buried your head into his metal shoulder. You felt the wave of your orgasm came to the end you panted, Boothills hands came to caress your back before he stopped and only rested it on your hips. He blew away some of your hair from you. "Too good, I think I'm out.." You whimpered, and Boothill could only laugh.

"Alright, sweetheart, up you go." He said sweetly in your ear as he helped you off of him with shaky thighs. Once you lay next to him, you both looked up at the wooden ceiling decorated with tiny fairy lights that highlighted the sweat covering you and him. You were trying to catch your breath as you felt soft fabric brush against your thighs; Boothill turned to your gaze and smirked. "Ain't no way I'm leaving a girl in her mess." it was a tease, yet it squeezed your heart. Once he finished cleaning you up, he sat back up, his metal back turning against you. You felt a tugging feeling. You wanted to touch him, yet not something sexual. A touch that was filled with its softness and care. You heard the sound of gears and the buckle of his pants. You watched once more as he leaned down and reached for something. Laying back down and staring up, your brows furrowed as you sighed, hands covering your face. Boothills steps, though, made you jump up. You didn't want him to go so quickly as he usually did. Instead, you catch him leaning over the balcony in the room corner.

He held a cigarette against his lips and lit a match and put it towards it, lighting it up before putting out the match's flame. He breathed in before letting out a circular puff of smoke. The moonlight shined off him as if the gods were crying the moonlight out. He was the only thing that shined on you in the moment. He looked so beautiful. You thought he looked like those tales of beings made by god, like he was almost hand-crafted to be this breathtaking.

"Boothill.." You called out, reaching a hand out partially.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

He turned his head over his shoulder before taking another puff of his cigarette. 'sweetheart,' you knew there wasn't anything inquiring about romantic interest. You bit your tongue.

"You are beautiful." You replied softly before putting your hand down and looking towards him in his eyes. Yet he turned away, and you heard the tiniest sigh.

He didn't reply. Something worse than him leaving as soon as he came. Boothill wanted to meet your gaze, brush his hands on your pretty lips, and give you the kiss he knew you desired- the genuine care you wanted. Yet he couldn't. He couldn't attach, he did love you yet. As the wind called him out in the moonlight, he stood under this night. The warm smoke entered his mechanical lungs and came once he blew out. He pressed his hand on his head.

"Fuck." He cursed lightly, praying you didn't hear him.

He was a cowboy, after all, free as the wind. Nothing could get him, Nothing could have him.

[dervaaas]

He will light up the star even if it goes out.

Character: Boothill

wn: It implies the death of the reader at the end. It was written before the release of 2.2. OOC Boothill.

I think Boothill is too soft, but why not?

F!Reader!

P.S. I came back to post this. I must say right away that I translated it through a translator, since I stopped learning English because of a not very pleasant situation. Therefore, I apologize if there are any problems with the translation.

Even if these stars were once close, now it's just dust that decorates the ceiling. An interesting idea with a projector. To look at the stars at least for the last time, when a girl does not have the opportunity to get out of bed. And all this is only because it was out of the kindness of someone she doesn't know.

This guy, Boothill, as he introduced himself, decided to show her the stars. In its supine position, it can neither be lifted nor brought out. Forever within four walls. Well, let it be. No one really comes anyway. Irresponsible, isn't it?

Unfortunately, this is the fate of the planet and its life. Almost a dead land. There are few cities that can live in prosperity. Unfortunately, she doesn't live like this. Therefore, she has to suffer only because nurses can visit her once a week, and it is difficult to find a nurse: you will have to pay three times for her. There is no such money.

Her very position raises a lot of questions. If she finds it difficult to move, how does she eat and move at all? Well, thank you for setting up her house for this. And now she doesn't have to do everything by force, as it was before. It made life easier, but now it has become a more recumbent lifestyle.

As for that guy... It's a rather strange acquaintance. After all, according to him, he had data in which it was said that the girl's house had what they were looking for, but in the end it was not. And he just decided that he would spend the rest of his time here at her house.

— Everything here is primitive, so don't think you'll see anything worthwhile. Boothill scooped the girl up in his arms and put her on the floor, where a place had already been prepared for her.

— Is it necessary? — The girl was a little worried, because she doesn't really understand the point of putting her on the floor if she can look from the bed.

— Take my word for it, it will be better. I don't know what stars they're talking about here, but I think it won't be boring.

— You don't know? Then why did you take it?

— How can I view them for you if I didn't have the opportunity? It doesn't matter. I'll turn it on now. Buthill gets up from his seat and walks over to the projector. Why did he decide to arrange a small planetarium for her? Apparently, he was very struck by her words when she said that she did not know who the Galactic Rangers were. He doesn't know why he's doing this.

Maybe it's really out of pity after all. She doesn't know what it's like to move around calmly, and she doesn't know what the world looks like at all. Yes, it was a pity. He, who lost his body, but got the opportunity to come back to life again, feels sorry for someone who found himself in the same situation, but does not have a second chance.

He turns on the projector and lies down next to her. Noticing that he guessed right and from this place everything is clearly visible. There is no sound, and nothing can be done about it. I would have to search additionally or even manually assemble it. There is no time for this. So that's what it is. However, he is familiar with all this, so he will even tell you himself.

— The Asdan system. There is a Penacony there. It used to be a prison for IPC, but now it's a celebration planet. Do you know what's special about her?

— No, — the girl looks at him questioningly, asking him to continue.

— You could live a normal life there. Immersed in the Bowl of Dreams, you would live a normal life. And don't worry about how to move around.

— Why are you telling me this? The girl was even more interested in his words. He seems to be someone who is not interested in this at all. It doesn't seem like someone who is going to take care of anyone at all.

— I don't know. In a way.. We have a similar problem. Was. Buthill continued to stare at the ceiling full of stars and galaxies. He doesn't even know if it's worth saying something. What if it doesn't sound too encouraging? Will not be. Giving her a second chance would be too difficult. And will she give up this body? Moreover, according to the papers, she does not have so long left.

— Can you tell me?

— Should I tell you that I lost almost all my body and was given a second chance? There's nothing to tell. And I don't want to remember.

— I see. So why are you doing this?

— There are reasons for this. People sell their bodies, give up on them, bully them. But when other people really need a body, they don't get it at all. You're out of luck with that. You could travel all over the universe, but instead you're tied to a bed. His voice was strained, apparently remembering that day.

The day he sat and looked at his new body. Bending and unbending metal limbs. Realizing that the body he once had can no longer be returned. He won't be able to feel the warmth anymore. Normal human heat, not from heating metal. His blood is not red at all now. The feeling of being new and trusted is eaten away from the inside. At that moment, he didn't know what to do, what to think. Perhaps he was too arrogant to do such a thing. But the final decision: not to live for yourself became the end result.

It was his actions that led to this outcome. Then why would he repeat his mistakes? A second chance. "Welcome to this world, once again." A meaningless phrase. But there's nothing else to do about it. To live not for oneself, but for the cause. There's a simple reason why he started following the Hunt.

That's the reason. That's why he wants to show her the stars. She would never be able to see them, but he could show them, even in such a primitive way. Yes, it's far from ideal, but it doesn't make sense. He will tell you himself what kind of stars they are, what kind of planets they are and what they are famous for. Everything he remembers will be told, even if the words are turned to nowhere.

He met a man with a similar problem, it seems to him. In fact, their bodies do not "belong" to them. They no longer obey them. So does it even make any sense to continue living? There must be some small knot that you want to hold on to and hope that everything will be all right, even if it's not.

Although very soon. This is one of the brightest stars that will fade in the sky. Someone will light it up again. Let it be like a memory of her, but she will burn as brightly as when she was alive.

— It's Fate. That's all.

— Sweet Fate.

— Honey?

— Eons, forget about it.

Even this moment will end someday. And it happened. It was too fast for her to feel. The doctors said it wouldn't be for at least half a year. Although they have such a medicine. What was she really hoping for? But it's so unpleasant to leave a person who has been uplifting and brightening up another boring day for at least a few days. It's so strange to realize that you're leaving your dead body to this person.

He doesn't owe her anything and shouldn't be doing this at all. But at least he can do something. Defined. The girl didn't deserve to die like that, so he was the only one who was at her funeral. Arranged by the standards of the planet in luxury.

[justblades]

im so in love guys

[roseyodditea]

Shooting Practice - Boothill x gn! Reader

Summary -> Cowboy teaches you how to shoot.

Warnings -> Mentions of a gun (no actual violence)

A/N -> Fun fact, this is the first thing I've ever posted. Created an account just for this. Feedback and suggestions welcome! I'll figure out how to format better later lmao

***************

“Hold it steady” The deep southern drawl rang gently right next to your ear, his metal hand cold against your wrist. “Back up and let me do it myself,” You try to not grit your teeth, the cowboy once again far too… overbearing.

Boothill let out a scoff of annoyance, watching you hold the gun shakily in your hand, but he did back up, crossing his arms. You stood with your legs far too close together, arms too overextended, aim entirely off. It was abysmal to watch for the gunslinger. There was a sharp crack in the air, followed by your groan of frustration. 

You placed the gun down on the table in front of you, taking off the hearing protection that hugged your head too tightly. Boothill chucked, “Told ya s-” “Don’t.” You glared at the man, that stupid cocky smirk on his face. “Maybe you’re just an awful teacher.” Boothill stepped close, grabbing his spare pistol off of the table and slipping it into your hands again. “Nah. C’mon. Let’s try again” He stood behind you, too close yet again. The smell of motor oil, gunpowder, and the cheap cologne attempting to cover up the stench of the oil invaded your nostrils. “Feet shoulder width apart” He says, waiting for you to adjust your stance.

“You don’t have to go through the steps so slowly” You practically growl, frustrated.

“I’ll stop goin’ so slow when you get it right” He growled right back, matching your less than thrilled energy.

“Don’t sass me while I’m holding a gun, Boothill.”

“We both know I’m quicker, sugar” He chuckled. “Feet shoulder width apart, shootin’ foot back, relax, and don’t lock your elbows” He guides rather gently for a man you’ve watched gun down IPC without a second thought. “Eyes on the target, deep breath, and when you’re ready, squeeze the trigger.” You took a moment to go through the checklist. Feet apart, dominant foot back, relaxed… Boothill’s hand on your waist, making sure your torso wasn’t turned. You could feel the chill of the metal, hear the crackling of his synthetic voice box, his body breathing out of habit rather than a need. He was paying very close attention to your stance, and you could feel it. You could feel his gaze, his crosshair eyes locked onto you. “Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” You sigh out through clenched teeth.

“Take the shot.” That was the only answer you were going to get out of him as he didn’t listen, only kept looking at you expectantly. 

There was a crack, followed by a clink, the empty beer can that was setup on the table being knocked over.

“Oh my god! I did it!” You placed the gun down and excitedly turned to Boothill, who had a huge grin on his face. Without even thinking, you wrapped your arms around the cowboy who you had spent the last half hour trying not to slap. It only took a split second of hesitation before he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Can’t believe you actually hit it.” He teased, chuckling softly.

“Just be proud of me.” You plead softly, resting your head on his metal chest, feeling it grow slightly warmer, the once quiet hum of cooling fans getting louder.

“With a stance that fudgin’ shaky I’m shocked you-” “Boothill!” You smack his chest, the soft sound echoing in his chest compartment. His hands move to rest on your hips as he smirks at you.

“Fine fine… I’m proud of you, sugar.” He says in a shockingly genuine tone. “We can work on makin’ you a bit quicker in the future. You take that long linin’ up your shot and you’ll end up dead.” You didn’t respond. You didn’t want to. You were so used to the cowboy being loud and brash, but now he was being soft and caring… borderline tolerable, a new record for the man. Boothill always said he was a dead man walking, but right now he seemed more alive than ever. 

“Thank you for doing this.” You said after a long beat of silence, a slight crackle in your voice as you tried to swallow the emotions you thought you were so good at hiding. 

“Of course.” He replies just as softly. “I want to make sure you’ll be alright when I’m out on bounties” “You say that like you’re going to come back.” You scoff, trying not to make it sound like you wanted him to. 

Boothill looked away, swiping a hand down his face and letting out a breath, adjusting his hat before looking back into your eyes. “Well… this planet is out of IPC space and has good liquor. Pretty easy to hitch a ride to and from. And it has you.” He adds on, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t hung up on the word ’you’. 

“I’d like for you to come back.” You confess and before you can even take a moment to process the words either of you had just said, cold lips were on yours, metal hands on either sides of your face, the cooling fans in his cyborg body spinning impossibly faster as he pulled away, looking at you in shock.

“I think I’d like to come back to you, sugar”

***************

[heavenlyraindrops]

ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ——> ᴘᴛ. 2

warnings: sexual content, dry humping, fingering, afab!reader, female anatomy reader

A/N: I wrote this ages ago and I was just horny, that was literally my only motivation so here take this ig

You scrambled at Boothill’s shoulders for support as you sat in his lap, panting as his lips trailed down your neck. Your underwear was drenched, slick with your juices as you desperately humped him, soft whimpers and moans escaping you as he watched you with a half-lidded, amused smile. 

“Why don’t you,” you gasped in between feverish kisses to his jaw, “M-move?”

He chuckled, and your core burned. He tipped his head back, eyes following your every movement and making you tense with self-consciousness. 

“Nah.” His gaze traveled up and down your body, slowly undressing you with his eyes as you squirmed in his lap. “I prefer watching.”

You bit your lip to suppress a whimper. 

His hands slid to your waist, then your hips, burning cold through the fabric of your clothes. “Plus,” he murmured, moving you subtly against his crotch and making you shudder, “I’m sure a pretty girl like you could make yourself cum without my help.” You caught a glimpse of his tongue run over his teeth, hungrily. His hands fell away and he sat back again. “Go on, sweetheart. Make yourself cum.” 

You shivered again, slowly rutting into him as he grinned, murmuring praises, metal fingers tangling through your hair. He was hard metal underneath. It didn’t faze you. 

Your hand traveled up again, towards his jaw, and he flushed before pulling it away. “No hands, sugar.” 

His hands grabbed your hips again, repositioning you on his thigh. You tore your shirt off, pulling it away from your heated body hastily as you bucked your hips again, pace quickening. Desire pulsated through you in waves, intensifying as he pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a soft huff of laughter that tickled your face. “You wanna be good for me?” His voice was low, husky, even. 

“Y-yeah,” you managed to choke out. 

“Then do what I told you,” and pressed a soft kiss to your neck. 

A few thrusts later, his name whispered from your lips amongst pants and moans- “Ngh, Boothill, please-“ and you came undone, whimpering into his neck as waves of pleasure rocked through you, body turning limp yet still quaking from the pleasure. You looked up at him.

“Was I good?” Your voice shook. He bit his lip.

“Perfect,” came the reply.

He pushed you off, and you stood up before he pulled you back in. Your legs shook in the half-light as he clutched the back of your thighs, looking up at you. “Glad I saw you in that bar,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your abdomen. “Lookin’ so pretty…” he peppered a few more kisses, going lower. A hand slipped between your thighs, teasing the damp fabric of your panties. You flinched at the touch and buried your hands in his hair as his fingers skilfully pushed the cloth aside, stroking a path along your entrance. You seized up, whimpering as a cold finger delved in, sensations swirling through your heat and down your legs. Droplets of your own arousal dripped down your inner thighs, and you tried to clench them together but Boothill’s grip tightened like a warning. 

“Relax,” he hushed, but you couldn’t as another finger pushed it’s way inside, the first one curling. You flinched, jerking your hips against his hand and he smiled at your reaction, a deft flick of his digits inside you making your knees buckle.  

“One more time?”

You nodded breathlessly.

[yorutsuki]

You're cooked. Now write boothill.

「 ✦ Metal Tension ✦ 」

↳ Boothill, an optimistic and unrestrained cowboy—a galaxy ranger just so happens to be looking for a specific emanator though runs into you. Unfortunately, tension forms quickly.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Tags:

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Light clangs and clunks echoed softly around the grounds of Penacony. His hair swaying lightly behind him along with his cape—while his metal body reflected the bright lights of the city.

"The Dreamscape..." Boothill breathed, taking in the sights of the bubbly, lit scenery.

The cowboy was drawn into Penacony in search for a specific emanator roaming about. He heard, from a memokeeper, that she would be found traveling besides an Astral Express crew. Hence, that would be his first step; to track them down.

It wasn't hard to track the group down, considering their popularity throughout the scape. With a few conversations with the residences and locals, he easy found one of the passengers—you.

Currently you were seated in a bar, a glass of paper moon near you while you skimmed through your phone.

Your head perked up as you heard a low rasped chuckle near you.

"You must be the famous {Y/n}?" He spoke, a light sly smile plastering his lips. "May I sit?" He asked, signaling to the seat next to you.

Your expression showed confusion but nonetheless you nodded both to the question and request, signaling a 'go ahead'. "Yep, that's me. Do you need something?" You sighed, popping the 'p' before taking a sip of your drink.

The ranger hummed, "a paper moon? That's a hell of a drink, isn't it?" He raised his brow, ignoring your question.

You nodded, setting down your glass. "A chaotic and busy week." You huffed, recalling the events you endured recently—still feeling some bruising from some of them.

The galaxy cowboy ranger nodded in acknowledgement, setting his arms, crossed on the table. You glanced over to him skeptically. "Well then, I told you my name, I think it's only right you introduce yourself." You spoke, taking another sip.

"Eager huh? Names' Boothill." He smirked, placing his head to one of his palms.

"Well then, Boothill, what are you exactly here for?" You asked once again, sighing—not wanting to beat around the bush. You knew the man wasn't here just for a idle chat.

You heard the cyborg chuckle at your straightforwardness, "Observant. Well, i'm here looking for a emanator who goes by the name, Acheron."

You furrowed your brows, "why?" You questioned.

if you weren't beating around the bush, then it should be an even playing field, no?

Boothill's sly smirk turned into a light smile of menace. "To eliminate her."

You hummed in thought before gulping down the rest of your drink, grabbing your phone and leaving the bar.

Boothill frowned for a moment though his signature smirk appeared once more before he himself stood up, trailing after you.

"I don't think you know what your dealing with." He spoke, shaking his head. You however, were pretty sure you knew the risks of Acheron tagging along. "I-the crew has seen her potential power already, as well as her persona in general. Maybe not at the fullest but it's safe to say we know enough to trust her currently." You answered, recalling the information that the crew and her had exchanged during the time together.

"-though that can't be said for you." You halted with you movement, glancing towards him with furrowed brows. Boothill raised a brow, his eyes glancing over to you as well, his expression plastering the same amused expression.

"Look here darlin', i'm here for one objective. I'm not here to make enemies with the express—that would be meaningless and a waste of both sides' time." He hummed. "So if you could just give me even a slight clue of where the emanator is, i'll be on my way." He shrugged, resting a hand on his hip.

You shook your head lightly, "I can't, I don't know where she is. She pops in and out—here and there at times." You informed, crossing your arms, replicating his sass. "Besides, I believe your the one who hasn't a clue what they're dealing with." You glared at him.

Boothill returned the glare, though before any words could be uttered, a sudden wave of fire split the tension as both of you were quick to dodge it.

Looking to your side, you were faced with a Dreamjolt gorilla and overcooked, along with some other low enemies.

You grit your teeth while the ranger's smirk only grew wider at the new challenge. Though before he could even process, you were already taking action—taking swift and agile turns, aiming and destroying the mechanics' weak spots to which they crumbled into ash upon.

Within under a minute, the enemies were nothing but ash in the wind.

You had returned back to your spot like nothing happened, only a few breathes here and there. You looked towards the man, a brow raised as you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. "You need something?"

The galaxy ranger looked away, almost in thought. "Those moves...they're familiar.." He stated, looking to the ground before glancing back at you. "Where did you learn them?"

Your eyes turned soft only for a second as you grinned slightly. "The emanator. She was kind enough to lend me some tips." You smirked but quickly replaced it was a neutral face.

Boothill's gaze went surprised only for a split second before turning into a sly cocky look. "Well, would ya look at that. Y'know Acheron doesn't just teach anyone her knowledge." He smirked before leaning near your ear. "You must be a pretty special thing then." He laughed before retreating back.

Your words got caught in your throat. You knew it was a teasing comment but thats what stunt you.

You mumbled something inaudible before your phone pinged. "Oh? Is that the rest of your crew?" He chuckled, peeking over towards your screen. You glanced towards him and back, nodding.

A few moments passed before your phone vanished into your inventory, specks of dust in place of it's disappearance. With a huff, you look towards the metal man, "well, i'm guessing we'll be seeing each other around, unfortunately." You shook your head much to your dismay.

Boothill smirked, "Of coarse. I look forward to our next run in—and how knows?" He shrugged, leaning forward, "maybe you can teach me some of those tricks, eh?"

You give a grimaced smile, "keep dreaming. This is the dreamscape after all." With that you waved a flimsy 'cya' before leaving.

Though if you stayed just a bit longer, you would've seen the cowboy ranger's cheeks tinted with a pink hue as he let out a airy laugh. "till we cross paths again."

.

.

.

A/N: I barely know about Boothill than whats already present. Hence, I apologize if its short and out of character TxT.

(I have no clue for a title)

[Random] While writing this, I read the most well executed, tear making, well written, heart warming, angsty af fanfic of a Michealangelo x reader (TMNT), I highly reccomend checking it out if you like TMNT-specifically mikey and angst :)

"Hearts Over Head (Michealangelo x Reader Fanfiction)" - Sophfandoms53

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[wormdevourer]

wrote some more of those yet more focused on themes ,, idk why I made them so sad :(

𝓗𝓢𝓡 𝓗𝓔𝓐𝓓𝓒𝓐𝓝𝓞𝓝𝓢

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣����𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖, 𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠, 𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖, 𝕓𝕠𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕝

warnings: mentions of death

Blade was absolutely devastated after your unexpected passing. through all the suffering he’s been through in his life, this was by far the worst case. you were the main source of happiness in his life, and now you were gone, like the sun ducking behind the clouds.

the other stellaron hunters had also clearly noticed the changes in Blade’s attitude - he spent most of his time training to avenge you, or angrily sulking in his room. he barely ate or talked to the others. his Mara was also considerably worse, with it flaring up increasingly more often nowadays. he despised his life now - you’d done everything in your power to make him happy and to enjoy his life, even if by just a little bit, but now that was all thrown out.

on one particularly quiet night, Kafka came to Blade’s room to check on him.

“hey, Bladie,” she called, knocking on his door, “open the door, please.”

an irritated grumble was heard from behind the door, yet he made no move to open the door. Kafka simply took that as a sign to come in.

once inside, Kafka noticed just how messy the room was. training dummies were piled up in one corner, each one slashed to bits. the lights were off, the fan running high, and the end of Blade’s bedsheets were torn up by claw marks. underneath the messy blanket sat Blade, sulking and probably crying.

“Bladie?” Kafka asked, slowly stepping closer to his bed as she glanced around, looking concerned.

“…go…away.” Blade’s gruff voice sounded from under the blanket, followed by a sniffle, “…I don’t want…to talk.”

“Bladie, I’m only checking on you…you’ve seemed really down ever since Y/N-“

“don’t…mention them.” Blade snaps.

“alright, alright, I’m sorry…”

a moment of uncomfortable silence followed as Kafka stood there, examining the room around her.

“…you really loved (them), didn’t you?”

“shut up. Just…shut up.”

“if you don’t want to talk, I’ll leave you alone to grieve.”

“good. go.”

Kafka lets out a sigh and hesitantly leaves, shutting the door behind her…while Blade is left to grieve and suffer.

———————————————————————

Ratio was shocked when you suddenly passed. this wasn’t in his calculations at all. he found himself feeling oddly lonely…those comforting late-night study sessions turned into quiet, saddening nights on his own. he never thought he’d say it, but he missed you. he missed you so much.

Ratio’s students that he tutored have obviously noticed the man’s change in demeanor. he seemed…quieter, not as fiery or degrading as usual. he barely even insulted them anymore, it was shocking.

the man spent many days wondering if his work was really worth it. he’d considered trying gambling like Aventurine did, yet he didn’t quite give in yet. whenever he wasn’t losing himself in his studies, he just sulked in his bed. it was unlike him, and it made him feel pathetic.

one particularly solemn night, Ratio lay in bed, brushing away the tears that stung at his eyes. he missed laying in bed beside you, listening to you ramble about your inane interests…he missed your voice as you laughed quietly, nodding along with his occasional questions.

Ratio curled up in his bed, hugging his blanket close and wishing it was you. his tears soaked the pillow, his violet hair messy with sleep. he was a mess…and yet all he wanted was not to improve his mental state, but just to bring you back. he wasn’t usually one to easily express his emotions around others, but when he was alone, he could finally release all his built-up sadness and stress.

“…what’s wrong with me…?” he mumbled to himself, sighing against the blankets he clutched so tightly, “I shouldn’t be so…so vulnerable. this isn’t the Ratio I know.”

he sighed again, nuzzling his face against the blanket. memories of you ran through his mind like stabbing pains, each one more bittersweet than the last. he’d never loved anyone as much as he loved you, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would.

eventually, he fell asleep, his face buried in the tear-stained blanket you’d once laid under with him…his dreams were filled with you, the slight scent of you lingering in his room.

———————————————————————

Aventurine wasn’t emotionally prepared for your sudden death. he’d never really considered life as precious until yours ended. throughout his rampage on Penacony, he was always willing to toss his life into the gamble if it meant a better outcome…but in this reality, there was no such thing as a better outcome for you.

he managed to keep up his usual smug and confident demeanor, but when he was alone, he just completely crumbled. he’d thrown himself deeper into gambling, and he wasn’t going to stop until things got better. his coworkers at the IPC only had a slight hint of what happened, since the quality of his work had decreased.

in the middle of one of Aventurine’s breakdowns, Topaz knocked on the door to his office to ask him about an upcoming IPC mission.

“Aventurine? are you busy, or can I come in?” Topaz asked, feeling Numby rub against her shins.

there was a muffled sob from inside before Aventurine mumbled out a miserable “one moment.”

after about a minute, Topaz was welcomed inside by Aventurine, who seemed as confident as usual, save for the noticeable tear streaks on his cheeks.

“uh…you okay? you don’t look…as happy as usual.” Topaz asked, looking concerned. Numby squeaked up at Aventurine, earning a weak smile from him.

“y-yes, I’m alright…why wouldn’t I be?”

“because of Y/N’s death…? it’s perfectly normal to grieve, you know…”

Aventurine looked down solemnly at the mention of your name. “i…suppose so…”

Topaz tilted her head curiously. “are you not sad about that?”

Aventurine shook his head, mustering up a sheepish smile. “of course I’m sad. I’m…I’m just good at hiding it.”

“look, if you ever need to talk, you know that you have friends like me here at the IPC…”

“I…I know. I just…don’t know how to.”

Topaz sighs wistfully, watching as Numby rubs against Aventurine’s legs. the little warp trotter must know that he’s upset.

“I just…loved them so much.” Aventurine painfully admits, tears stinging at his eyes again, “and yet…they will never return to me. I’d rather lose a trillion bets than have to say goodbye to them forever…”

———————————————————————

Boothill was utterly broken by your death. it reminded him of his late daughter, having to say goodbye to someone he loved so dearly. why did this always happen to him? it broke his heart - it was like the universe was telling him to never get close to anyone.

he’d resorted to completing more and more dangerous tasks, throwing himself into harm’s way just to get his mind off of things. his bounty grew and grew as he became more criminally wanted, but he didn’t care. it was like he was numb to everything except thoughts of you. the most prominent thing in his mind was the thoughts of your happy face when he picked you up in his arms, telling you about his favorite missions he’d completed…laying in bed late at night, listening to you ramble on and on about something random that you liked as he held you close, his cold metal body soothed by the warmth of the blankets and you by his side.

of course, he didn’t have anyone to talk to about this kind of thing…the only person he was remotely close to was Dan Heng, and he was equally as shaken up by your death. the cowboy didn’t want to put any more of a load on Dan Heng’s shoulders by venting to him, so he kept all those thoughts in his mind. he knew it wasn’t healthy, but he felt that it was better to help his friend than himself.

Boothill kept his feelings bottled up for weeks, each day growing more grueling and unbearable then the last. he knew he couldn’t go on like this, so he finally arrived on the Astral Express to find Dan Heng.

“Dan Heng, you in there?” the cowboy asked, his voice gruff with the weight of his bottled up emotions. the door to the Express’ library slid open, showing Dan Heng in his messy room. his hair was ruffled from sleep, he was still in pajamas, and books littered the room around him. on top of that all, he looked exhausted - just as Boothill did.

“what do you need, Boothill?” Dan Heng asked, rubbing his eyes to somewhat relieve himself of his tired look.

“I, uh…wanted to talk to ya ‘bout Y/N…” the cowboy mumbled hesitantly, not wanting to upset Dan Heng any more.

Dan Heng nodded, allowing Boothill to come in. the brown-haired man sat on his sleeping bag while the cowboy leaned against the shelf of books, sighing.

“I…dunno what to do, brother,” Boothill began, his eyes covered by the brim of his hat, “I’m…lost.”

Dan Heng nodded in silent agreement. “I understand how you feel. I haven’t exactly been cheerful either.” he gestured around the room, motioning to its unorganized state.

“Yeah, I…fudge, I just want ‘em back, brother…I’m tired of missin’ them.” Boothill added, before his voice got slightly quieter, “I…wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

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(do not repost / steal / translate to any alternative sites !!)