#hsr boothill

[kaa-05n2]

[121231212i]

Honkai: Star rail | Version 2.6

[chuubian]

Kinktober week two:

Hot To Go!

Tags Boothill x fem saloon maid reader, his dick vibrates, drinking, semi-public

Summary A handsome cowboy walks into the saloon without any credits. Before you can kick him out and report him, he offers to pay another way.

The loud screeching of old hinges draws your attention out of your work and to the front door. A weird looking cowboy comes in. He's completely made of steel except for his pale face, it's like nothing you've ever seen before. His heavy boots bang against the decaying slabs of wood flooring, then he sits at the bar, staring silently— waiting for you to service him. Putting the glasses and rag down, you head over to him.

“Hello sir, what can I get you?”

“A double tequila, darlin’.”

You raise an eyebrow. That's it?

“Just tequila? nothing else?”

“I can handle it.”

You shrug, walking back to grab him a glass, pouring in two shots of the clear liquid and sliding it in front of him. He grins— sharp teeth taking you by surprise. Did he purposely sharpen his teeth? The man reaches for his glass, tossing it back and drinking the straight liquor easily. You cringe just watching him.

“You seriously drink like that in the middle of the day?”

“Oh it’s nothin’… ‘s like water to me.”

Nose scrunching in disgust, you recoil at the thought of it. It's like 2 pm who in the world would think to drink this. He chuckles at your expression, sitting up and leaning forward— cheek leaning onto his cold, metal fist.

“Shouldn't you be glad I'm here, darlin’? Good for business, isn't it?”

He looks around the empty room.

“I'm the only one here, that's money you wouldn't have made otherwise.”

So that's how he sees it huh…

“Then it's 30,000 credits.”

He pauses, eyes widening. The clanging of iron sounds through the room as he sits up straight.

“Ain't that a bit expensive, sweetheart?”

You cross your arms.

“That's the set price. If you're saying you can't pay, then I'm gonna have to get the sheriff over here.”

That seems to astound him. He immediately starts fussing, leaning over the bar to try and calm you down.

“Now, now dear… We don't gotta go that far! come on, I'm in town all the time, you know me right?”

“No i don't, I've never seen you here. I don't even know your name.”

Clunky metal fingers run through his black and white hair as he puts his hat down on the counter in front of him.

“Boothill. See? now you know me.”

“If you don't pay, I'm calling the sheriff over here. I'm not kidding.”

Sharp nails dig into the wooden counter— he leans back, thinking of ways to deescalate the situation.

“Why don't we find some other way to repay you huh? We don't need to get law enforcement involved in somethin’ so small right?”

You consider it. It's not like your boss would know anyways, it wasn't even that much alcohol.

“What do you have in mind?”

—————-

The wind gets knocked out of your lungs as Boothill drags his rough tongue over your clit. His sharp metallic claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, trying to keep your unruly hips still. A choked whine gets caught in your throat as he sucks harshly on the sensitive little nub— it's like barbed wire has been wrapped around your throat, constricting any sound that may escape.

“Aghh… f-fuck!”

The only response from him is a harsh bite to your inner thigh, before he dives back in. He's like a man starved, consuming you completely. A hot wet tongue makes its way down to your entrance, teasing and taunting, with the intention of pushing in.

Your fingers thread through his long, black and white patterned hair— pulling, out of necessity to keep your peace of mind. Boothill slips inside and an embarrassing squelch echoes through the empty saloon.

“Don't move.”

He warns, holding you up against the old bar. Practically all your weight is leaning on his kneeling form— your legs were trembling terribly, struggling to hold up properly. Gummy walls squeeze around his tongue, gushing out more slick. He lets out a low moan, enjoying the slightly bitter taste.

“Sooo good…”

His words slur together. One of his fingers finds its way up to your puffy, abused clit, drawing little circles. Sparks flash behind your eyes and guttural moans bubble past your lips.

“Nghh… B-boothill!”

This only seems to encourage him more. He drags his tongue back out of your entrance. Your pussy feels empty without him, clenching around nothing— already becoming used to the force against your walls. Tugging him closer, you grind your cunt down onto his lips, trying to get more. That's all you need, just a little more.

“Needy, huh?”

He chuckles, lips wrapping around your over sensitive clit, sucking and licking at it harshly. You double over, stomach and thighs tensing from need and overwhelming pleasure. His steel palms feel surprisingly warm against your skin, gently caressing instead of digging in like before.

“Mmmf..! O-oh god Boothill!”

Eyes watering, back arching, grasping and pulling at his long locks, you finally come undone. A loud ringing resounds through your head, leaving your brain fuzzy and confused. You don't even process what's going on until Boothill’s bulky hands are turning you around, pushing your chest down onto the old wooden bar.

“You ready?"

Icy metal presses against you from behind. His grip on your hips is painful— he's sure to leave marks and bruises painted across your skin. You open your mouth to respond, but before any words leave your lips, he pushes in.

You keen high in the back of your throat as his hips sink home. Squirming, you try to adjust to his cock. It proves to be an impossible feat- especially when you abruptly feel the vicious whirr or his dick against your walls.

"W-waaiit-"

You only manage to utter a single word of protest. As soon as it leaves your mouth, Boothill pulls his hips back and slams back in. Controlling himself is inconceivable at this point. He sets a brutal pace, grinding cock up into you, nails biting into your flesh.

All you could do was whimper and wail in garbled mumbles. He didn't stop even for one second. Your back arched, as your face was smushed against the counter— dragging against the old wood, scratching your skin.

"Fuck. sweetheart...."

He trails off, lost in the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his vibrating cock. Leaning forward, he nips at the shell of your ear. The sting only amplifies the feeling of immense bliss. Your legs shake with effort— it was like nothing you've ever felt before. Drunk off the sensation of him working himself in and out, your cunt clutching onto him- trying to suck him in.

It's all too much. Your eyesight is blurring and a lump forms in your throat. The knot in the pit of your tummy is straining and tensing. Boothill buries himself deeper, pelvis striking against the supple flesh of your ass. His cock is carving out a space for itself, pulsating against your walls.

"Hnngh.. B-boothil..."

His strong hand leaves your hips, settling itself on your shoulder, keeping you down.

"That's right sweetheart. Just like that."

All the blood rushes to your head as his dick thrust into your sweet spot. Your body is boiling— overwhelmed and about to burst. He doesn't stop, taking enjoyment in seeing you struggle. Slick is dripping down your pussy to the junction between you and the ruthless man. Your mushy walls make way for him, surrendering under pressure. All you can hear is a loud buzz, as your body focuses on the euphoria it feels under his expert touch.

Incoherent babbles erupt from your lungs. Your hips twitch, fucking themselves back on his cock mindlessly. He's getting desperate. Shocking cold steel presses against your back as the vibrations spread through your entire body. The knot forming in your belly bursts and fire flows inside your veins. The heat is sweltering and mind boggling.

Nails claw against the splintering wood, frantic for any way to hold onto your sanity. Your throat burns, lungs heaving and wheezing, desperate for air. Sweat drips down your forehead, glistening under the bright sunlight shining through the window.

The tremors in your thighs simmer down and Boothill pulls away, massaging your poor exhausted legs.

"How was that?"

You struggle to answer, but he wasn't really looking for an answer anyways. He helps you clean up— wiping the sweat and slick off your skin, dressing you tenderly. Making sure you look just as nice as when he first came in before anyone else walks in.

[dailyaventurinedoodles]

Putting him in the AU so i can give him gifts

[varliona]

whore😭😭😭😭😭😭

[n0tamused]

Okokok so your dragon designs for boothill and Argenti. Could i request them (separately) with a human reader attempting to tend to their wounds after a fight? Perhaps theres some resistance (bc we know they both dont think too highly of themselves and would worry about reader) but eventually relent. Maybe unwillingly, like boothill looses a limb and physically cant take care of the situation himself.

Bonus points for dragon cuddles bc i really want to reassure them they're loved unconditionally 🥲

@dragon-anon

A/n: AAA?! This is so sweet hello? I'm a bit caught of guard/speechless to get a request on these designs but no complaints here ofc. Thank you sm for sending this request in! Let me know what you think :D

Contents: Argenti x GN! Reader, Boothill x GN! Reader, fluff, a bit of angst, dragon Argenti and Boothill, reader is implied mechanic in Boothill's part, petnames (my rose, darling)

Argenti and Boothill as dragons designs here | Ko-Fi

Argenti:

“My fair rose, this is merely a scratch, not even skin deep. You must not fret-” he hisses. “-over such miniscule things”. Smoke rises from his nostrils and his eyes squint as the painful sting of the herbal ointment pinches those delicate nerves of his open wound. 

Not skin deep, yet your armor’s been torn through along with the skin and flesh, you think to yourself, holding your tongue between your teeth. Arguing back against his flowery words and scolding him wouldn't do much good when you're so angry from worry. He had tried to avoid your touch and aid when you first ran up to him after he returned to your city. It was evening, the sun was setting and no one else had seen him approach. You ushered him into the forest he crawled out of, making him duck and lay down, in a way letting the canopy of the tree branches overhead trap him to the mossy ground. His shoulder to his claws was dripping with sticky blood, his scales slick with it and glistening in the light of the fire Argenti so graciously started for you. Your house wasn't too far off, and you think to yourself how much more towels you'll need, water and ointment too.

“I hope you have nowhere else to be. You won't be going, else you want to make this wound worse on yourself.. No- I command you to stay” you told him as calmly as you could once you stepped away from his shoulder, glaring up at the dragon before you. His neck bent so his head could be closer to you, eyes like emeralds stare back at you. It looked as if they grew damp from hurt, shame moreso, your tone has stung him greatly, more than your words. 

“My rose has been angered, I am sorry.. Anger does not suit you” he says, so apologetically you already know what's going through his head. He's already taken all the blame on his wings and shoulders. “I should've tended to my own wounds, like a knight should be capable of. But I've grown selfish… I will do better next time.. Will you forgive me?” The large carriage of his head lowers itself down, sits on the ground, and the large horn in the middle of his forehead still glistens with dry red blood, turning gold and red in the firelight. Your anger dissipates rather quickly, like a fire drenched in water, even if it desperately wanted to burn it no longer had anything to consume to feed its hungry flames. 

“Argenti..” you start with a sigh, wiping your hands with a dry towel as you take steps towards his cheek. His eye follows you cautiously, sliding his head a few steps away, still not letting you touch him as he remains at his most vulnerable. He craves your touch, but he will not let himself be selfish. “Argenti” you say, more firmly this time and hurry to place a palm to his cheek. “... there's nothing to forgive, maybe not- besides this stubborn attitude of yours.. But no, there's nothing to forgive.. But you also have to listen to me too. Your pain brings me pain, even more so when you hide it away from me..” You tell him as your hand strokes his bony, dragon cheek. 

“My… You speak no lie.. Yet I still apologize all the same, for my own peace of mind at the very least” Argenti speaks after a huff rumbles through his throat and through his nose. Warm hands find purchase on the side of his head, one arm extending to find his shiny mane, now disheveled and dirty, but you run your hand through the course locks and press your forehead against his bony cheek. He purrs at the gesture, closing his eyes. 

“Promise me, my great dragon-knight, that you won’t hide your wounds from me?” you ask, giving your words a little lilt, lifting the tension that permeated in the air. He picks up on this easily, but recognizes the importance of the question, and even greater responsibility of his eventual response.

“.. I promise..”

Boothill:

You thought the earth was cracking underneath you once a tremendous shake made you tumble to your feet. So many terrible things ran through your head as you held your hands out to break the fall. There was a large crashing sound accompanying the shake of the earth and a roar followed soon after. That last sound you knew all too well. You weren’t sure what you should be worried about first, yourself, the guy that fell next to you or the idea that it was Boothill who was on the receiving end of a beating. IPC has been swarming the areas lately, looking for something they hid under pampered words or straight up refused to say when asked directly by a few bold individuals.

Getting your bearings together, you made way for the distant hills, the sandy dunes opening up before you like a city of their own, giant rocks stretched out into the belly of the sky like enormous spears. You raced through, following the traces which the sand didn’t swallow up yet, the spillage of oil and blood leading you straight to him. He was sitting on his haunches, his metal plating chirping with each small and irritated movement he made, his nose smoking with pale wisps of hot breath. Bending his neck he picked up the separated limb of his fore leg, the limb separated at the elbow with a few screws bent in the place where it was clearly torn away. There was oil leaking from his chest and sand was sticking to both oil and blood that was coating his body in various places.

“What happened to you? Boothill!” your pace quickened as you caught sight of th giant drake, his eyes focusing on you when his head swiftly perked up in response to your voice. His giant limb was let down to the ground with a thump, and he huffed again to show his irritation. 

“Ugh- you shouldn’t have come out all this way, there as well might be more of those fudgeheads around ‘ere” Boothill spoke, lifting up to his three legs.  

“As if you would let any of them run off. Have they charged at you first? Is that why they’re here, for you?” you shot back, your expression anything but pleasant, your brows meeting tightly at the middle and the corners of your lips falling down as if anvils were hooked onto each one. “Are you hurt?” 

At that, Boothill let out a rough and quick exhale through his nose, shooting out smoke before he bent his neck down again to meet your fierce gaze, swaying a little with the absence of one appendage. “Hurt? Me? You need not worry about that, little one, nothin’ can hurt Boothill” He is in your face when he says it, his nose right before you as his visible eye looks as if it were about to challenge you, you - his brave human companion, to a duel. But there's sadness too. 

You stare back, biting back the tongue that sought to scold him immediately after such a response and instead you reach your hand out to touch him. He moves out of reach, falling back onto his haunches. “It is cold out ‘ere at this time o’ night.. You should have waited till morning came. I would still be here” he says as he pushes some thin dry branches and an old looking, fallen tree together with his nose, sand dropping from his mane in a fine rain as he moves about, lighting a fire for you. 

“I know you won't let me get cold.. Now, let me see what this is. They tore your whole arm out?” you approach the fallen limb that had sunken into the sand due to its weight alone. inspecting the connecting spot, what you’d call an elbow. Wires were cut messily, torn and now dirty with dust and other grime. The screw lay next to it, bent and useless.  “Don’t you have a spare screw on you somewhere?” the wires could be dealt with, at least made to function steadily until you can get replacements.

“Hm- yeah, I got some on me, they should be up on the side. Can’t out here without backup. I was gonna do them on my own, but the forking arm get falling out, I couldn’t get the wires to connect - those are too fine of details for me” Boothill ranted as you already paced up to his side, waiting for him to finish his speech and lay down so you could reach up to a handle that was at the side of his stomach, pulling it down after a twist to reveal a compartment. Mostly mechanical replacements were found inside, and you managed to find a few screws and a deer skin rag for the dirt on the connection. 

“Shouldn’t have charged into that battle. I just know you’ve been too stubborn to move away - wait for a better opportunity at least..” There was no use telling him otherwise, and besides, what’s done is done. “Lift it a bit for me, Boothill, I need to clean it out before I can even attempt to put it back on”

He does as you ask, and now, with his own steely limb in his maw, he can’t say much to you. All he can do is huff and puff at your words as you subtly lecture him on staying safer through expressed words of sadness and worry. You were worried, he has always been hotheaded and you’d rather not have him depart this world because of it. 

“Just.. Please, think before you dive into a fight. Yes, you’re skilled and powerful, flashy, yes, yes - all of it, but think of the people that..care for you. Of me..”  You told him as you were sliding the screws into their respective places, connecting his fore limb to his body. This time you are met with silence instead of a hot aired huff. If you were to say anything more, you’d only be repeating yourself, so you said no more and worked wordlessly.

“There..” You hopped down from his shoulder, carefully stepping lower before jumping to the ground. The distance was small, but it still made you grunt when you landed. The fire had died down by then, hot coals sparking and whispering to each other. 

“Might it be I should be thanking you, darling...?” Boothill had laid his head down as you worked, listening constantly to your surroundings although he feigned sleep. 

“Not before you try moving it. Come, give it a go” you urge him gently, stepping back as you wipe your hands at the side of your thighs. The drake before you rises, balancing his weight all on one side before testing his reconnected leg. His movement is sluggish, choppy even but he succeeds in flexing the claws, taking a few steps and laying back down where he once was.

“Gah… so much today surely exhausts the soul, don’t ya think… mmm.. Thank you for fixing me up, darling, if it weren’t for you I’d be wandering like an ol’ street dog, heh..”

You walk up to the front of him, sighing softly as the adrenaline had long since left room for the ache to settle in your body. Looking up at him from here, you felt nothing short of a kitten between the front limbs of a great mountain dog, a wolf really. One would say the word ‘beast’ best suits him, but he is nowhere near as cruel as one. For all the heart they cut up and plucked from him, they had failed to take away the good nature of his soul.

Boothill notices your silence and sees your faraway gaze and before you can stumble a step, his nose comes up to press against your chest, cautiously almost as if a mere touch would curse you. Wordlessly he asks you questions. In response, your arms go out and flush against his warm snout, your body weight relying on him to keep you upright and he doesn’t move as you give him this odd hug. He wishes he could hug you back, and he could if he meant to crush you.

“Just be careful.. okay?” you mutter, your heavy lidded eyes going up to meet his, his pupil focusing, staring before the heavy eyelid comes down to hide it away, like a curtain. 

“Fine… I’ll do my best, but no promises - you know how the world is.. out there.."

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[pinkgvts]

my favorite poses from @/okidokooooo's edit on twt, he is so fine ><

[robocatfan]

Hehehe

[glittertimes1997]

ik everyone's making sex jokes out of argenti lecturing boothill for 6 hours but this is argenti we're talking about here

that man could actually lecture someone for 6 hours

[sporkkles-irl]

its a galaxy ranger world and we're all living in it

[glencian]

okay I'm still resting but this weekend I take requests in tg (link in my bio), you can also pm me but the chances that I'd see that are lower.

anyway, I do requests every weekend and knowing that ppl in tg would request Jing Yuan yet again, I decided to make a move first.

he's getting ready for a Halloween party and tries out Boothill's clothes 👉👈

[thecoolerwinter1234lo]

From here

[feroluce]

MAKING FUN OF HIM

[binkybuzz]

ARGENTI CHEERING FOR BOOTHILL FROM THE STANDS

[cyborgkanojo]

I'm sure it's more like a "kill mode" sort of thing but I imagine Boothill's eye glowing red when he's feeling especially intense and "fired up"

.......imagine it glowing while he looks down at you, pinning you down by your hands, and he's fucking you in a mating press........

[boothills-hat]

Look at my bad screenshots im so excited

Our time has come fellow boothill mains

AaaaaAAAAAA