#Boothill hsr

[kyvnnie]

[dailyaventurinedoodles]

Boothill and Aventurine playing blackjack

Day 138 - 👍i dunno what to title this one im tired

[lowkeyren]

—close call.

in which : crammed in a maintenance closet with boothill, his audacious plan saves you both from the ipc —but not without leaving your heart racing for reasons far beyond fear.

pairing : boothill x gn!reader

wc 1.4k, "enemies" with tension, forced proximity, banter banter banter, reader implied to be a galaxy ranger + shorter than him, flirting (re: dialogue. he's a tease), reblogs r much appreciated!! enjoy <3

from event req: here ; art by @/kiu30750

the rain hammers down on the tin roof above, its rhythmic pounding the only sound aside from your ragged breaths and the distant shouts of the ipc agents scouring the area. you barely managed to wedge yourself into the maintenance closet with boothill; and now, here you are —cramped, drenched, and undeniably screwed.

pressed chest-to-chest with him, the infamous galaxy ranger whose charm is as notorious as his tendency to get into trouble, you can’t decide which is worse: the likelihood of getting caught or the suffocating proximity.

“just wonderful,” you mutter under your breath, voice dripping with sarcasm. you shift, trying to create even an inch of breathing room. though it’s hopeless; the movement only presses you tighter against his chest, and the slight tilt of his wide-brimmed hat brushes your ear, sending an uninvited shiver down your spine.

boothill, as infuriating as ever, doesn’t seem the least bit shaken by the situation. if anything, his composure is maddeningly relaxed, a sharp contrast to the rapid thuds of your heart and the faint shuffling of ipc agents just beyond the door; as though you aren’t currently hiding from people who would gladly haul you both in —or worse.

“things would’ve gone better if you hadn’t tripped the alarm back there,” you hiss.

he lifts an eyebrow, eyes narrow slightly as he glances down at you. “me? yer the one who—”

before he can finish, you press your hand over his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. his words die against your palm, leaving only the thrum of his breath against your skin. but even that is drowned out by the frantic beating of your hearts, the air thick and suffocating as you both listen intently to the shuffling sounds just outside the door.

you can hear footsteps drawing nearer, the unmistakable clink of weapons being adjusted, the subtle scrape of boots on metal. your pulse quickens, the pressure in your chest building with each passing second. you instinctively press your hand harder over boothill’s mouth, a desperate attempt to suppress even the smallest sound.  

his skin is surprisingly warm pressed against you —a sharp contrast to the coolness of his metal body, making the entire sensation feel disturbingly real.

"ya gonna fudgin' suffocate me if yer press so hard," he mutters, the words barely audible under your hand. his fingers wrap around your wrist, firm but careful, and he gently pulls your hand away from his mouth. 

before you can retort, the sharp sound of the lock breaking pierces the tension between you. both of you snap your heads toward the door just as it starts to creak open. without hesitation, boothill reaches out and kicks a broom across the floor, jamming it under the handle to hold the door shut —for now. 

the door rattles violently as the ipc agents push against it, the muffled voices on the other side growing louder. each thud against the flimsy barricade reverberates through the cramped closet; the handle straining under the pressure, threatening to give out at any moment.

"seems like it ain’t gonna hold for long,” his drawl thick with that familiar, unbothered tone. his eyes flick to the door, then back to you, his stance relaxed despite the impending danger. “ya better start thinkin’ quick, 'cause i ain't exactly got a plan here."

the words barely register before your mind starts to race as panic crawls up your spine. your thoughts begin to spiral —there’s no escape route, no backups, and little to no time left. you’re running through options, half of them nonsensical, as the door rattles louder with each passing second.

“heh, adorable.” his infuriating grin is more felt than seen, a slight tilt of his head as he takes in your flustered state. “wreckin’ yer pretty head over this an’ sacrificin’ yerself f’me?”

your heart stutters in your chest, a mix of frustration and embarrassment flooding your system as you snap a glare up at him, your words coming out sharp and defensive, "you wish!"

boothill chuckles, his irksome grin still in place. “d'worry, i was just kiddin’. i have a plan.”

“what is it?” you ask, your voice betraying the flicker of nervousness you feel.

instead of answering, he takes off his wide-brimmed hat and places it on your head, tilting it slightly so the brim is low enough to cover the side of your face, shadowing your features.

you shift under his touch, an odd shiver running through you. “stay still, will ya?” his voice is surprisingly soft as he adjusts the hat, his movements so gentle it catches you off guard. though you still can’t help but be curious. 

you blink up at him, still trying to piece things together. “what... what’s this supposed to do?” 

his eyes meet yours again, “just trust me, darlin’.”

before you can ask any further, his hand cups your jaw, tilting your head upward. thumb brushing over your lips as he leans in, and for one heart-stopping moment, you find yourself holding your breath, your pulse quickening in anticipation.

but the contact doesn’t land —not entirely. instead, his thumb slips between your lips, a barrier that keeps the distance just shy of crossing the line. your breath hitches in your throat, the aching proximity making everything feel too intense, as his presence fills every inch of the space around you.

heat prickles across your face, a flush creeping up your neck as you feel the tension in the air thicken. his mouth hovers, almost brushing against yours; instead, brushing against a small barrier —the press of his thumb between your lips, just enough to keep you both from closing the gap. 

before you can fully process what's happening, the closet door swings open with a sharp metallic clang, flooding the cramped space with light.

“whoa,” one of the ipc agents blurts, freezing mid-step as their eyes flicker between two figures; whose faces are far too close, and posture far too intimate for any doubt to remain.

“oh,” another grunt stammered, a hint of awkwardness in their modulated tone. “apologies. we, uh… didn’t mean to intrude —carry on!”

the words tumble out in a rush, and they hastily pull the door shut, leaving you both in the dim, suffocating silence once again.

boothill doesn’t immediately pull away. his lips curl into a smug grin as he eyes you with a hint of amusement. “that wide-eyed stare of yer just now? kinda pathetic, ya know,” his voice dripping with a taunting, teasing tone. 

you can almost feel the heat of his smirk against your skin; his next words come softer, “but, i reckon it’s also kinda cute, i’ll give ya that.”  

flustered and irritated all at once, you reach up, grabbing his ear and tugging it, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment flooding through you. “cut it out, you idiot.” your face burns with frustration and a whole lot of confusion about why his teasing is driving you crazy.

thank aeons the closet is dim, because you have no idea what more he’ll tease you about if he sees the heat flooding your cheeks, or worse, if he knows it’s his words —or rather, his actions —that’s causing it. 

you hear shouts from outside, the voices muffled but unmistakable. “nothing here, move on! we’ll scout the next area!” one of them calls out, the sound gradually fading as they move further away.

you let out a soft exhale, your posture relaxing as you shift slightly. “looks like we’re clear."

“we are, so how 'bout ya let go of my ear now, sugarplum?” 

rolling your eyes, you do your best to ignore the way your pulse is still quickening. “fine, let’s just get out of here before they come back.” 

curse that damnable, cocky grin that makes your heart race in ways you wish it didn’t.

boothill seems to know exactly what you're thinking as he leans in, patting his hat down onto your head. "whaddya blushin’ for? can't handle a lil’ close quarters?" he hums.

"shut up, boothill," you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but even you can tell it’s less convincing than you'd like.

“alright, alright, ain't no time to be standin' round lookin' pretty.” he drawls, backing away slightly, but his eyes never leave yours. “let's get movin', before them ipc shirtbags change their minds and come back lookin’ for us.”

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

[robieroi]

drew this before release of boothill's lore

so here's sm sad stuff

[imsoluckyluckyx3]

𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 ! ! Feel free 2 use!!

[strawbunyy]

a beautiful rose or a bullet to the face, take your pick

[castorice]

☆★ BOOTHILL — HONKAI STAR RAIL 2.6 ★☆

[pinoppll]

where is the boothill ace content

[m1rabillis]

Been seeing this fit a lot on Pinterest, so decided to draw the silly guy in it xixi

[kwoojii]

good luck with your pulls! 💒

[uehulnah]

save a horse

[kyvnnie]

having a main hyperfixation while consuming other medias is funny bc wdym i drew boothill and optimus prime together

[121231212i]

Honkai: Star rail | Boothill

[espikola]

His lore dropped and I’m feeling like killing myself so have some fluff I do not believe in angst

[greenionpan]

bounty hunting💵

[sunnbnn]

It's high noon in Penacony...