#Yandere Boothill x Reader

[lavandulawrites]

Plssss can we have more yandere HSR memes!! they're so funny!

Yandere HSR Men Memes Part 3

Ofc you can!!<3 I’m glad you guys find them funny╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Yandere HSR Men Memes part 1

Yandere HSR Men Memes part 2

Yandere Genshin Men Memes

(some of these might not seem too yandere, but people seem to forget that yandere means lovesick aka someone who is SICK WITH LOVE)

Do not copy my ideas. Thank you

[yandere-romanticaa]

One thing that came to mind is that Yandere! Boothill, despite having the body of a robot, adores it when you touch him, especially his oh so human face.

I like to imagine that he's always holding you in some way - be it your hand, waist, the lower part of your back, heck, if you try getting away from him he might just even hook his leg around your own, making you fall right on your face in the process.

"It's your fault for trying to run!" he'd say, his tone cheerful and merry.

But you quickly learn that the best way to get through to him is if you touch him back.

Caress his face, play with his hair. Watch him melt in the palm of your hand. It's as if Cupid himself had shot him straight in the ass, there really is nothing quite like it.

The spell will break quickly the moment you stop touching him though.

He gets so grumpy as he quickly takes your hands and brings them back to his face. Boothill likes to tickle the skin of your wrist with his nose, as the ever so delicate pulse point brings him an unfathomable amount of joy. If you're lucky, he'll fall asleep, which will be somewhat helpful in escaping him (provided that he isn't hooked around you like a koala bear. That's its own separate issue.) and the moment the coast is clear, run like there's a rocket up your ass. Don't look back, don't check for anything, just. Don't.

Congratulations, the taste of freedom has never felt better.

He'll find you soon, don't you worry about that.

[vortexbloom]

I just had the funniest idea, how would the HSR men react to their child's first word being a curse word, someone cursed while they were near the child.

Sounds Interesting hehe 😉

Btw I decided to pick some HSR men myself, since you didn’t specifically say wich characters you wanted.

But of course, you can tell me if you have a certain character in mind 😘

I also did it a bit different, but I hope you still like it 😅

Your child‘s first word is a curse word (Separate OneShots)

Pairing: Sampo Koski/Boothill/Jing Yuan x Female Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Curse Words, fluff

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

It was supposed to be a sweet moment. Your child, barely a year old, had been babbling for weeks, and you and Sampo had been eagerly waiting to hear their first real word. Would it be "Mama"? Maybe "Papa"? Something cute and wholesome?

And then, out of nowhere, your child looked up at you both, smiled sweetly, and—

"Shit!"

Silence.

You froze. Sampo, sitting across the room, nearly choked on his drink. The baby giggled as if they had just said the most normal thing in the world.

"…Sampo." Your voice was dangerously calm as you turned to your husband, who was now failing spectacularly at hiding his amusement.

"W-Whoa now, sweetheart," he said, hands raised in mock surrender, his lips twitching. "Let’s not jump to conclusions. I mean, kids pick up words from all kinds of places…"

You crossed your arms. "And I wonder where our child could’ve possibly learned that one."

Sampo cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. "Uh… maybe from me? Maybe not? Could be the wind, really! You know, the way words just kinda float through the air…"

Your glare intensified.

Sampo sighed, finally dropping the act and rubbing his temples. "Alright, alright. So maybe I might have, uh, let a few choice words slip now and then." He glanced at your child, who was now happily babbling nonsense, completely unaware of the chaos they’d just caused. "But, hey, at least the kid’s got good pronunciation, huh?"

"Sampo."

"Right, not the point." He grinned sheepishly and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Tell you what—I’ll be real careful from now on. No more bad words from ol’ Sampo. Pinky promise."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what about the fact that our child’s first word wasn’t ‘Mama’ or ‘Papa’ but—"

"Yeah, yeah, I’ll make it up to you," he said quickly, waving you off before picking up your child. "Alright, little buddy, let’s try something else. Say 'Dad-da' C’mon, you can do it."

Your child blinked up at him, then grinned mischievously.

"…Shit!"

Sampo snorted, immediately turning away so you wouldn’t see him laugh. You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

This was going to be a long parenting journey.

The evening was peaceful in your little home, a rare moment of calm. You were rocking your child in your arms, their bright little eyes staring up at you as they cooed and babbled. Boothill sat nearby, his hat tipped slightly forward, watching with his usual laid-back grin.

You had been waiting for this moment for weeks. Your child had been making little sounds, but now…now was the time for their first real word.

And then, with the sweetest little voice—

"Damn."

Silence.

You slowly turned your head to look at Boothill. He blinked once, then pushed his hat up slightly to meet your stare. "Well, I’ll be damned."

"Boothill." Your voice was a warning.

He chuckled, shifting in his chair. "Aw, c’mon now, sugar. That’s a mighty fine word choice for a first, don’tcha think? Real strong. Real decisive."

"Booth, our child’s first word was a curse word," you said, exasperated.

He tilted his head, smirking. "Technically, 'damn' ain’t that bad. I mean, coulda been worse. Coulda been somethin’ I say when I get real mad."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Where do you think they even heard that from?"

Boothill leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Now, darlin’, we both know who they got it from." He tipped his head toward himself with a smirk. "Ain’t no use pretendin’ otherwise."

You shot him a glare. "And you’re proud of this?"

He laughed, standing up and walking over to you. "A little," he admitted, placing a hand on your shoulder. "But, tell ya what—I’ll make sure their second word’s a little more…parent-approved."

Boothill then leaned down to your child, who was still staring up at him with innocent curiosity. "Alright, sugarcube, how ‘bout somethin’ different? Try 'Mama.'"

Your child blinked, gurgled, then—

"Damn."

Boothill let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. "Well, shoot. Looks like this one’s got my spirit."

You groaned, covering your face with one hand while Boothill, entirely unbothered, took the baby into his arms. "Ain’t no worry, sweetheart. I’ll teach ‘em all the right words. Just…might take some time."

You sighed. You should have expected this. Raising a kid with Boothill was bound to be interesting, to say the least.

The grand hall of your home was unusually quiet, save for the soft crackling of incense and the distant hum of Xianzhou’s city life. Jing Yuan sat beside you, his long silver hair slightly tousled from a day of work, his golden eyes half-lidded with relaxation. Your child, nestled comfortably in his lap, babbled happily—small, incoherent sounds that made your heart swell.

For weeks, you had both been waiting for this moment. Jing Yuan, ever the patient and composed general, had taken his time encouraging your child to speak. He had whispered gentle words, taught them simple names, and had even placed small bets with you on what their first word would be.

"Perhaps it will be 'Daddy' or 'Mommy,'" he had mused one evening, a lazy smile on his lips. "Or maybe something amusing, like 'nap,' given how much they see me resting with them."

And now, finally, the moment arrived. Your child looked up at him with bright, eager eyes, opened their tiny mouth, and said—

"Fuck."

Silence.

You stared. Jing Yuan blinked. The baby giggled, seemingly proud of themselves.

"…Hm." The general cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the child as if that would somehow reset reality. "I see."

You pressed your fingers against your temple, exhaling sharply. "Jing Yuan."

He turned his gaze towards you, his expression unreadable—except for the unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes. "Now, my dear, let’s not be too hasty in placing blame."

You crossed your arms. "Who do you think they learned that from?"

He sighed, but his smirk betrayed him. "Admittedly…there may have been a few instances where I expressed my frustration in less-than-graceful terms."

"Oh? A few instances?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, shifting your child so they were facing him properly. "My little star," he said softly, his voice full of warmth, "how about we try something else? Perhaps 'Daddy'? Or 'Mommy'?"

Your child tilted their head, as if considering, before gleefully repeating, "Fuck!"

Jing Yuan, the great and respected Cloud Knight General, sighed in resignation. "This…is quite the predicament."

You smirked. "What happened to all that wisdom and patience? You look defeated, General."

He let out a deep chuckle, placing a hand over his forehead in mock exhaustion. "This may very well be my most humbling battle yet."

You reached over, gently taking your child from him, shaking your head with amusement. "Well, you get to fix it."

Jing Yuan smiled, watching as the baby clung to you happily. He leaned back, arms crossed, eyes twinkling with something unreadable.

"Of course," he murmured, voice filled with amusement and something softer—something utterly devoted. "But regardless of the words they choose…they are still our greatest treasure."

And despite yourself, despite the chaos and the mischief, you couldn’t help but agree.

© 2024-2025 vortexbloom all rights reserved. Don’t repost, edit, translate or plagiarize my work!

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[moonsaver]

Tw: dubcon, yandere

Very rough idea. But think think THINK. A really rich reader who manages to catch yandere!boothill's eye.

You were fine with him hanging around you so often until he just kept.. finding you. In the weirdest and shadiest places ever. Maybe you'd catch a glance of him at a party you know damn well he shouldn't be at. Maybe even in a huge family friend gathering you see him in the corner of your eye. At luxury, brand stores late at night that are open just for you. You see him places where he shouldn't be.

And of course, you hire bodyguards. Or maybe your parents do that for you. And it doesn't work. He manages to sift his way in closer, even. Your bodyguards are blissfully unaware outside your room's door all the while Boothill eyes you up and down from where you stand at your drawer – crushed perfume bottle littering your expensive nightgown in glass and aroma. Boothill pities the pretty little scent. You know its a lie.

You're desperate, so begrudgingly so. You pack your things, you move and move and move, never staying in one place for too long. You hire expensive mercenaries and hitmen, all of which end up at your doorstep. It doesn't help the fact Boothill's taken a liking to sending their hearts in a gift box. You think the shiny bullet still lodged into it was the worst part.

And he catches up. All of them die one by one, like moths drawn to a flame, incineration cast upon them. He corners you in the dark alleyway – far from where you would have been long ago. There's blood on his shoes and gunpowder in his teeth. You can taste it from how hard his lips crash into yours.

[yandere-wishes]

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Doc-Ringo⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

✮ Yandere! Boothill x Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: There's a slick black-clad little gal who's been messing with his bounties recently. Boothill's been dying to rustle her up and take a bite

⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere behavior, blood, and gore, war trauma, Genie trying to do a cowboy accent.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺: Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett

And I don't hardly know her,

But I think I can love her,

Ah, now when she comes walking over,

I've been waiting to show her,

My mind's such a sweet thing

I want to do everything

What a beautiful feeling

It's not like the movies, they fed us on little white lies.

~💜

The first time he sees you there's a tempest of bullets rattling off his chest. Metal singing metal, as shells vie for an opening. It's all very lethal,

like the center of a rabid dust storm. Kissing death and sucking in her poison. Boothill can't tell where the bullets are coming from only that there's a dozen at a time ringing over his head. He shields his face with the metal of his forearms peaking through the gap to catch a glimpse of black.

Pure black.

That's the first thing he notices as your frenzy yields, You're clad in black from head to toe, even going so far as to dawn an eerie familiar mask. He's seen this scene play out somewhere before, he just can't remember where. "Morning mister", he likes that voice, jejune and teeming with confidence. It reminds him of himself, back when the sunset used to mean something and he could still feel wheat stocks under his soft palms.

"Howdy lil'lady I reckon you're in my way. Mind stepping aside before you get yourself hurt?" Your answer comes in the form of an aimed pistol, spine straight, midnight serape caught on the wind. He thinks you look a little too much like the folks back home -back when there was a home- blood boiling over eager for a fight. His bounty is standing just over yonder, blocked partly by your stubborn shadow. Boothill doesn't think twice before firing two rounds.

He's met with four...

He's in a cheap motel on Penacony, screwing in bolts that came loose. In the end, you laid claim to his bounty. Dragging him away to the hills. He's left growling at the thought, bested by a muddle-fudging fox. Lil gal probably ain't never even been in a proper shoot-out. The screwdriver cracks under his metal fingers. Boothill ain't about to start letting some pretty little thing get in the way of him and his targets.

The TV screen flickers to a melancholy monochrome. The films are old, distorted, crippled in parts. But he keeps them around, much like everything else about him, it's a bygone thing refusing to die.

He still likes to play them from time to time, trying to elicit the tastes of home. Hearing Nick and Graey setting plates out for dinner as his siblings rush downstairs. The movies are older than the new universe in more ways than one.

They come from a simpler time.

He'd always wondered why someone would bother painting such precious things in black and white. Spilling melancholia into picture frames, leaving everything tasting of vodka and vanilla.

It doesn't matter though, not really. All that matters is the sound of hooves on sand and bullets shooting. So long as the cowboys live their stories, everything else can be forgiven.

But this time something's off. The bandit's black mask shines through, gleaming something awful making him grind his sharp teeth. That damn mask, sitting pretty over a sly smirk. it reminds him of you, little cutie with your slick attitude. What bandit goes around doing hero's work anyway? What kinda twisted little lady are you?

He's getting mighty sick of this. Do you think you own the universe or something? "Been seeing way too much of you lately." There's sand in his Synesthesia Beacon his voice coming out horse, brittle. He kicks the head of an IPC lackey trying to drive home a point. "You getting on my nerves cutie". The ground looks nothing short of a graveyard, bodies scattered some piled. The blood paints the sands in a deep maroon, reflecting the glint of the distant stars. The last soldier is cowering behind you, his whimpers singing in Boothill's ears, one more bullet, that's all it'll take. "This one's mine" you mutter, and he wonders for a moment if the dry weather is getting to you too. "Not a chance pumpkin" his gun's drawn, firing bullets before you can even feel for your holster. The smirking bullet impales your abdomen, aimed point blank at the officer's head. But before the last body can be claimed you kick the man out of the way.

"Damn it" Boothill's anger is tangible, he knows you can feel it between your teeth. He's going to kill you, tear off that star-saken mask, and riddle you with bullets. You're getting too confident.

He doesn't notice your bullets at first. Protostars trying to act all rough and mighty. There's a temporary cluster of dust, a fraction of a second where his eyes aren't pinning you down. That's all it takes and then you're off. Sinking into the darkness and swimming away, taking his target with you.

It's only after the initial anger wears off that Boothill notices a tear on his thigh. A letter scrawled on the frayed leather of his pants. So you've started leaving your own marks, ay cutie?

He almost wishes he could feel the sting of your blade on his flesh. Feel your nails scrapping along his shoulders as he pins you to the ground.

Boothill fires at the moon.

Next time.

Next time for sure....

He's been chasing you for some time now. But catching up with you isn't as easy as he first thought. Seems like you go wherever the wind takes you and he's too busy with revenge to be following your capricious whims. The IPC ain't going to kill itself you know. And Boothill damn well wishes you'd start sitting still. He's heard from a reliable source that the IPC soldiers are throwing a little get to together down in one of the bars. Just a happy birthday for a colleague, nothing fancy. The thought alone makes his mouth water, place will be crawling with pests just waiting to be gunned down. Maybe tomorrow he'll try looking for you again, but tonight? Tonight's his night.

The neons have dulled now, they never were terribly bright to begin with. Penacony may be the land of dreams but not even dreams can stop reality from seeping through. The bar's loud, some new pop singer's music blasting from every speaker. Boothill downs his drink, liking how the ice cubes chime like a bad omen. He shoots the speakers first, needing some peace to focus on what comes next. The peace corp's lackeys are drunk, they stumble over themselves trying to reach him. He shoots each one like a kid playing carnival games. It's almost too easy...

The door is stampeded over by a heard of reinforcements. Somehow even in his drunken daze one of those yella-bellied lapdogs called for help. They're swarming the place like panicked rats, pushing past tables and chairs. Firearms aimed at his head. And for the first time, in a long, long time, Boothill feels a sliver of panic run down his bionic spine.

Motherfudger...

Boothill hears the familiar tumult of bodies hitting the ground before he sees what's actually going on. He feels you before he actually sees you. You're pushed up against his back, guns drawn locked, and loaded. "Heard you needed some help" Even though you offer your usual bravado, Boothill still picks up the nervous lilt in your voice, despite everything he thinks he likes it. It almost tastes sweet. "Best get away before you get yourself hurt little fox." "And let you have all the fun? Never."

"Certe murmur pugnando" Boothill laughs, he remembers those very words coming from a buddy of his before a duel. 'At least we'll die fighting' Somethings never change, even if you've carved out every principle from your body with a rusted kitchen knife. You'll always have those pesky morals stuck inside. He hears you chuckle, wonders if you find it odd that a rowdy galaxy ranger such as himself knows a dead language.

Well, he knows a lot about the dead.

The shoot-out lasts longer than he'd have expected.

But the real surprise lies in how neither of you are dead. Boothill's half laid across the bar, looking at you from under his hat. You're making him a drink following his instruction like a good little wife, not contradiction dressed in ebony. Gunpowder withers on his tongue, the bullet smoke permeates the air mixing with the gleeful tang of spilled blood. "Your drinks sure are complicated" you mutter pushing him his cup before picking up a bottle and reading its labels. "What's so hard about it pumpkin? Little bit of white gem and gin. All's you need." He sips your drink slowly, savoring your flavor. He imagines he's gulping you down, holding you for ransom behind his teeth, feeling your delicate little fists pounding against him. "I don't drink" you mumble as you sit across from him, you look so damn elegant, like a little princess from a fairy tale he use to read to a certain someone. You drink deeply from your glass of ice and water. Boothill focuses on the gentle motion of your throat. He licks his lips, trying to push down the thought of ringing such a fragile thing between his palms.

"So little lady, s'about time you start answering some questions...The hell you doing? Running off with my targets?" You set your cup down, eyes locking on his, there's the deficiency he's missed all night. The trigger hair that's just waiting for the right push. "They're not your targets...not really. They're just people. People whose planet got muffed up. I've been trying to gather them all in one place." For a second Boothill thinks you're talking about his planet, his home, his people. But it only takes one more look at you to understand.

"So, how'd yours die?" There's shrapnel in his throat when he asks, open wounds bleeding once more, filling his throat with bitter memories.

You stiffen, and he knows he's thumbing a broken bone, letting his finger dig between the cracks and snapping their frail linings. "Don't know, wasn't there. All I ever got to see were a few limbs, nothing enough to make a full person." you squeeze the glass until your knuckles turn white.

There's vindication rooted in your veins.

He knows the feeling all too well.

"We ain't so different you and I, reckon we make a pretty good team." His metal fingers lace between your soft skin, tracing the lifelines like an old map.

There's a goldmine hidden behind your lips, he imagines he'll have to kiss you to find the little nuggets. Your lips part, eyes filled with an odd-looking sympathy. What he wouldn't give to feel your plump lips bleed between his jagged teeth. "So..." you ask as his mechanic heart skips a beat. "What about yours?"

You've been laughing for five whole minutes. Boothill shouldn't find the noise as ethereal as he does. His anger lays heavily on his bones, he should be even angrier, lounging a bullet through your thick skull. But he finds the noise a little too perfect to disturb its source. Even if it's only created at his expense. Instead, he has half a mind to slap you, hard enough to shut you u and another to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe. "Damn hell so funny, cutie"

You look at him with those luminous eyes. Filled with pain and riddles. Boothill never did like solving puzzles. He only likes tearing things into bits. He needs you spartan, easy to read and use, and kiss. Not something he needs to piece together first.

"Dear stars you have no freaking idea how ironic you are." You say between bursts of spiteful-rooted giggles.

Why do those words sound so haunting like a ghost kiss? they should open phantom pains, but they sure as hell don't. Why do you always leave his head spinning? Boothill rolls his eyes, then leans over to pull down your mask. You jerk back, rewarding him with a dark grimace. You're out the window before he can ask your name.

"See you next time, cowboy"

"Next time I'm drawing blood"

The moment's over.

Fiddlesticks..

That night, Boothill dreams of you. He's lying in a stiff musty bed. It's too dark, even the moon is scared of showing her face.

Boothill dreams of the old saloons back home. Of their cracked wooden floorboards and the worn-out plush of chairs. In the dreams, you're wearing a black lace gown, like the saloon girls used to. He finds it all too funny that even in his dreams you still haunt him in black. Only now you're smiling, really smiling. Not that sly smirk, or mirthless grin you gave him back in the bar on Penacony. No, this here is a genuine smile and he's damn sure he's the one who put it there. You reach out for his hand, he feels warmth.

His

Yours

The dream is thick and dense like swimming through molasses. In another scene he's dragging you through the old doors, laughing as bullets and card chips hit the floor. There's a horse waiting outside. His horse. At least he thinks it used to be his. He pulls you up roughly in front of him. He's high off the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the rugged reins. High off the steed he holds in a vice grip between his thighs.

He's riding faster than he's ever ridden before, clambering for the sunset trying to engulf the sun. You hold on tight, pressing your cheek to his chest. His heart is beating something fierce between his ribs. He feels like an Aeon watching the universe collapse under his galloping feet.

He feels alive.

With the sun's rays behind you, Boothill could almost mistake you for the star-dwelling angels Nick used to tell him about. There's something poetic in all of this. The cowboy standing off against the black fox.

Dare he call it cinematic?

Boothill creeps closer. Tilting his hat and watching you flash a nervous smile through his lashes. "Volo sentire te inter dentes meos" so you know that dead tongue too. "You will soon darling, that's what I'm hoping for" his reply only dwindles your smile.

He's missed the old duels. Missed staring into the eyes of the one who could kill you. It's all a matter of skill and luck. Whose faster, who the aeon will trust?

Somewhere in the distance, the tumble weeds begin to rattle.

"Now"

His bullet glides through the air, piercing through the dust and sand. Your bullet reverberates from your gun a fraction too late and ricochets past his cheek. Leaving a juicy trail of blood.

But his bullet was aimed at your chest.

And Boothill never misses...

You want vengeance he won't deny you it.

So long as you stay by his side.

He'll tuck you away somewhere safe.

Somewhere you won't be leaving him again.

Boothill cradles your body to his chest. "I promised you blood little fox, and Boothill never goes back on his word." His cheeks hurt from smiling as he lays his hat atop your head. He's Picking you up and walking into the sunset. He knows a good ol'doc who'll patch you right up. And then it's a happy life together.

Well for him anyway.

The end

Taglist: @hihellomy @salhanskkdbfkekfb @gasoline-eater @sp1cym0chi

[brynn-lear]

Yandere rancher!Gallagher vs Yandere cowboy!Boothill over a mail order bride!reader fic when? When I'm done with the event probably-

Tentative fic title: Holding A Wedding On Top Of His Funeral

“Let my spouse go.”

“Or what, eh? Send a herd on my way? Chuck that flimsy shot in my direction? Don't act tuff when I can put a bullet on your skull.”

“You know nothin' about Penacony. Let (Y/n) go. Now.”

“Ha. Well I'll be. Time to get serious.”

[justpenguin]

Can't focus thinking abt

Yandere Boothill who can't help but fall in love with such an innocent young gall like you, he just feels so enticed by your naivety, you're just too adorable for him to resist

Yandere Boothill who can't help but enjoy the thrill of chasing you down even as you try and try to avoid him, you're making it way too easy for him, don't you think you should at least try a bit harder?

Yandere Boothill who enjoys watching you, even from a distance, the way you put on your make up and gently dress your self is way too cute, the sultry curves of your body incredibly enticing in his eyes

Yandere Boothill who mails you small, cute little trinkets and messages that start off cute but soon turn creepy, with him describing how he would love to turn you into his little doll, his special cowgirl 

Yandere Boothill who finally catches you when vulnerable and sleeping, and simply can't help himself once you finally are within his grasp, all his efforts paying off. Don't you know he would cross the universe and back if it were for you?

Yandere Boothill who looks at you in mock confusion and laughs. Hmm? Why do you seem so afraid? Didn't you like his little gifts and messages? Don't be an ungrateful brat by not appreciating his efforts

[lylian333]

some thoughts about boothill in my opinion

idkw but i feel like if he's a yandere he would definitely always leave mark on you example forcing you to sit on his lap and hug around your waist well sucking your neck so that everyone will know that you're his .Not only that he have sex with you for hours till you pass out. And he's those type of guys that would take care of you after sex giving bath like that. If he's kind enough he would let you play with his hair.

(i swear to god i will let boothil rail me)

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Stalking, Use of Tracking Devices, Restraining, Spoilers for Boothill's Backstory

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Boothill is deeply intriguing to me. This is a man who has nothing to lose; everything he has loved, everything he has had, has burnt to ashes or crumbled to dust beneath the weight of the world. Imagine somewhere along his travels through the cosmos, he meets you, and falls in love.

Boothill has not felt love in a very long time.

He sees his love as a small, raw, pitiful thing, so weak, so breakable, but so strong, so enduring. As much as he can while he stays on your home planet, he orchestrates your paths to cross as much as possible, laying on his charm thick.

If—and when, in Boothill's mind—you fall for him, he is quick to bring you with him to the next stop on his journey. He can't just leave you behind, in danger, just like all his loved ones. No, he can't do that. You give him a purpose in life, that sweet, addicting feeling of trusting someone wholeheartedly. If he lost you, he would shatter at the seams.

In the chance that you manage to escape his extremely watchful gaze, he goes from charming cowboy to a true follower of Lan. He most definitely plants at least one tracking device on you, and if that fails, well, he isn't a Galaxy Ranger for nothing. Boothill will relentlessly chase you down, from country to country, planet to planet, galaxy to galaxy. He'd even transcend the universe or become an Aeon if it meant he would find you.

When he inevitably does, he's mad. But after the initial rush of rage dies down, what's left behind is soft and hesitant. He'll brush the hair out of your face and kiss away your tears, careful to keep your movements constricted but avoid hurting you.

You'll learn to love him again, Boothill consoles, pulling you in tighter. His metallic hands are frigid as they press into your back. He tucks his head against the crook of your neck, as though making sure you're real.

After all, he can't lose you. Even if it means keeping you tucked away, hidden from the rest of the universe.

[zeyris-daydreams]

Not a request, but how do you think poly yandere Boothil and Robin would work together

Yandere! Boothill x reader x Yandere!Robin

Omg!! I absolutely love the idea of a Robinhill poly!! The mutual worry goes insane, and I’ll make sure to marinate their experiences in a seasoning of their experiences!

Boothill is a man who knows what loss is. After all, loss sent him on his journey, and bore a seed of vengeance in him. For Robin, loss was immaterial. It was what she felt to be loss of freedom, and loss of close ties. In that Robin and Boothill understood each other, and their experiences, albeit similar on the surface, shaped them differently.

Boothill is protective from his past experiences; scared that if he doesn’t hold his close ones, they’ll slip to never be seen again. The fear of further loss, embraced by his single-mindedness as a Galaxy Ranger, is quite the shake to deal with. It’s worsened by a sense of posessiveness, creating a similarly determined approach with you.

Robin however knows how it feels to be left with limited options, and so despite her ever-growing affection to you, she is rather reasonable. She can’t stop her feelings, but she can judge things from another perspective as well; Boothill never doubted her abilities or expertise when they combated the monkey-virus, after all. And, despite his possessiveness and jealousy, he knows she can take care of himself. She truly is an angel, in all the meanings of this word.

Then again there’s you, too, fortunate or unfortunate enough to have their gazes on you. Perhaps it is Robin to initiate, and perhaps it is Boothill. Both work out in the end; one way or another, their relationship based on trust and understanding starts to encase you too. Maybe not in the same understanding or trustful way, but still, it is based upon care for your being.

I believe Robin and Boothill may initially find their ideals to crash, it doesn’t lead to an argument. With your person, Boothill believes that the best course of action was to protect what he likes most; you, and Robin. Robin however understands it, and given she likes Boothill too, there is no fuss around the topic. Therefore no extreme measures need to be taken.

In your case… compliance isn’t promised, that’s what Boothill had told “singing queen” when discussing you over lunch. Because in case of you rejecting them, how can they ensure your safety? Robin does not wish to cage you. Boothill believes the only way to ensure safety would be to keep an eye on you, supervised.

And, given your acceptance isn’t promised, Robin is fairly easy to convince. While she doesn’t plan to hold you hostage - goodness, no. She’d never do that to someone else - she can try other ways of conviction. If you understand their care, then you’ll surely choose to stay; that is something that Boothill can get behind.

And, if you choose to stay, then it’s not keeping a bird in a cage.

Their mutual care for each other extends equally to you, really! I mean, Boothill can take care of himself! And, Robin is intelligent, she did well all this time too, dealing with so many things. . .

You have to understand why it’s just different with you. You have to.

Maybe she will have to.. tune you slightly. Slightly, promise, it’s not even going to hurt! Boothill and Robin mutually don’t want anyone’s feelings hurt. And so it’s unacceptable if you offend either of them as well - same as if you were being treated badly.

Obsessive care and being protective of you isn’t bad treatment, however. You simply have different needs from them. That’s it.

[postmoe]

If you look at Argenti... he has no loin armour... YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Is that another anomaly in this shining universe in your pants or are you just happy to see me?

who is the best character in hsr and why is it Argenti?

honestly though how else can you feel his love when sitting on his lap if he is wearing armour? He, of course, is considerate to you.

I started this apocalypse-like cult story with Argenti and Boothill a while ago. I'll put some down below the gif.

With anger in your eyes you glare at Boothill, “You purposefully let me go so far!”

              Boothill sighs, holding his hands up in a shrug, “Argenti and I concluded to let you get your little rebellious phase out before the sermon tomorrow. We figured if you exhausted yourself then you would be more compliant.”

              Argenti pulls away enough to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, smiling sincerely down at you, “You always want to go for your little walks outside the sanctuary. I thought you’d be happy.”

              You slapped his hand away from your face, stepping away and staring them both down, “I’m not going on a stroll to clear my head, I’m trying to get away from you psychos!” Tears start to flow down your face, your hands furiously wiping at them just so you could see clearly, “Stop treating me like a child! I don’t want to be some dumb vessel for Idrila, I don’t want to live in this dumb sanctuary with you dumb believers!”              

The two men listen quietly as you yell and cry, awaiting until eventually your voice dies down and you’re reduced to nothing but a blubbering mess. This isn’t the first, second or third time you’ve thrown your little tantrum, and it certainly won’t be the last. They know this dance off by heart now, and as your tired legs wobble and you seem about to collapse, Argenti is there to embrace you, lifting you into his arms as you cry into his shoulder, “There there, my dear. Let’s get you bathed and put to bed.”

[lavandulawrites]

Can I request for Yandere Boothill and Yandere Argenti arguing over who gets to spend time with their captive darling

Yandere Boothill And Yandere Argenti Arguing Over Who Gets To Spend Time With Their Captive Darling

Yandere Boothill x reader, yandere Argenti x reader

I love these two so much <3 I love requests like this

Masterlist

Warnings: female reader, soft yandere, captive reader

Black-red eyes met green eyes. The air was electric and thick. The cowboy clenched his jaw and it was a wonder he hadn’t crushed his sharp teeth with the force. With his nostrils flared he swallowed harshly.

“I think I should be the one who will spend time with her” he sneered between his teeth. “You’re spouting nonsense all day long. It’s gonna affect her negatively ya know” he glared at the red head before him.

Said red head only scoffed. “I am not ‘spouting nonsense’” Argenti scoffed offended. “If anything, you are the one she shouldn’t spend time with given your violent nature” narrowed green eyes stared at the cowboy with determination.

Boothill’s mouth fell open at the shocking words coming from the knight. “Don’t act all high and mighty now. As if you haven’t killed just as many forkers as me!” the galaxy ranger rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

Argenti sighed as he pinched his nose bridge. “Arguing is pointless… While we’re standing here, our darling is getting bored to death. Oh that poor thing” he cooed with furrowed brows.

Their loud voices carried across the spaceship and to the living room where you were seated. You sunk deeper into the soft sofa as you sighed. Aeons were they annoying. You were drifting off to dreamland when you heard a loud bang.

You startled and shot up in your seat. The sound came from the hallway. Your bare feet padded against the cold flooring as you followed the sound. The sight that met you was both your captors with their hands in each other’s collars. Their hair was tousled and their eyes wide open as they started at you with gapping mouths.

“This isn’t what it looks like-”

“Oh heavens, you timing is unfortunate my dear-”

“You two are unbelievable” you groaned like a frustrated mother who had given up on her unruly children.

Neither of them got what they wanted as you needed up with spending time alone in your bedroom listening to music from your home planet.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Darkness loomed over Penacony as you ran barefoot across the dimly lit streets, the drunk passerbys oblivious to your rushed footsteps and heaving chest.

It has been six months since you felt the cool fresh air on your own. Six long, hellish months of bizarre captivity that made your head spin. Boothill was the personification of a locked and loaded gun, constantly on the chase for his next IPC lackey to shoot, or if he was in the mood he would hop on a totally different planet which no one knew about, which naturally only made him want to go even more.

The pain of trying to keep up with him was horrid. Rancid even. Scrapes and bruises, hell, even broken bones became a mild concern once you started to see the plethora of wanted posters which had your face plastered over them.

Solid bounty to boot.

Whenever you would bring up these concerns, Boothill would let out the most hearty laugh, his head thrown back so hard that his hat would come off. He would then proceed to smack you across your back, proudly saying that it was his own personal little way of claiming you.

No person with any common sense would dare come for you.

He would just shoot them dead on the spot.

"That's not a threat pumkin'!" he would say as he casually drank his drink, the alcohol swishing and swaying in the pristine crystal glass. He drank it all in one swoop before setting it back down on the counter, his gaze laser focused on you.

"It's a promise."

From the corner of your eye, you could see the way his hand was resting on the holster of his gun and came to the wise realization that you believed him.

Through trial and error, you have come to terms with the fact that Boothill will keep his promises, particularly if they were related to you.

Running away from him in the overcrowded bar was... was most definitely not the brightest idea but it had worked. It was indeed still working, even with your aching feet and burning lungs. Your entire body begged you to just stop and take a breath, but that option was impossible, because you knew all too well what was in store for you.

As if on cue, you heard him before you saw him.

Endless echoes of shouts, yelps and strings of curses followed you as you continued to flee from him. Boothill pushed, shoved and kicked absolutely every single person onto the ground if they dared to stand in his way, not giving a flying fuck - oh how satisfying it was to curse in front of him since you knew that he could not - any of them were hurt.

"Come back!" he yelled, his voice heavy and hoarse.

You did not turn around, such a luxury was not possible. Against your body's wishes, you ran.

He pursued.

A chorus of shots rang in the air, all of which were too close for comfort. None of the bullets were meant for you as the Galaxy Ranger was being pursued by the Bloodhound family, each one barking orders and insults at each other as they did everything they could to keep your so called lover in check.

As if Xipe themself had acknowledged your efforts, you spotted a tiny alleyway which was perfect to hide in. Boothill had lost his momentum due to his own pursuers, giving you precious seconds to decide on your next course of action.

And with the way you could feel your feet physically give into the pressure, you made your way into the pitch dark alleyway, carefully tip toeing around any possible source of sound. With a sigh you sat behind a large dumpster, the ultimate coverage in this time of need.

A faint glimmer of hope formed in your heart. It was hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you were free from his grasp. You'd much rather take in the stench of trash than his robotic arms, the memory alone making you shiver.

Behind the safety of your dumpster, the streets sounded like a mini warzone.

How typical of him. Being subtle was never his style.

Everything he did, Boothill did to be the biggest menace and pest known to society. He would tell you stories of his escapades as his eyes trailed over your whole body like a starving wolf, his sharp pearly white teeth almost looking like knives in your eyes.

Oh how he loved to sink his teeth into your neck. The noises you let out only seemed to spur him, giving him more motivation to mar your skin. Even now the traces were there, nasty and crude. Tracing a few fingers around your throat, you felt the raging pulse point becoming heavier and heavier, as if it was getting ready to pop and burst right in this dingy alley.

If it were not for the sounds of gunfire, you would have believed that your own heart was going to betray you. There was no way that no one was hearing this, the sheer intensity so strong and dizzying. Hot white pain seeped into your lungs and quickly made its way into your veins, chaining you onto the ground.

That's easy prey, you suddenly heard his voice in your head.

The second they're too scared to move, well I'll be fudged, that's when you shoot pumpkin'.

And you had quietly agreed with him on that summer eve. You could still recall how he hid you both beneath some bushes as he went to scavenge some food for you, showing you some tips and tricks along the way. You could recall the way the thorny bushes had wounded you, pricking the soft flesh of your arms, fresh droplets of blood coating the mostly dry ground.

It hasn't rained in ages on that planet, if you recall correctly.

Rain. What you would give for the fresh scent of the rain. The harsh droplets would mask the yelling, the roaring thunder could perhaps comfort you in some odd way.

And just like that, you wish had come true.

A single piece of evening dew feel on your cheek, the liquid oddly warmer than it ought to be.

You could not be bothered to care.

Closing your eyes, you decided to bask in the first moments of glorious freedom you had managed to steal for yourself.

Boothill had taught you well, ironically enough.

There would be no more yelling, no more loud gun fights, no more long distance traveling. No more needy Galaxy Ranger who wanted you to pay constant attention to him 24/7. You already knew where you wanted to settle somewhere, a quiet and quaint place, a place oozing with peace and serenity.

Much like this dumpster, but a lot more pleasing to the senses.

The streets were quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the music in the distance, a sound so hauntingly pleasant that it made you feel -

Quiet.

Why had it gone quiet?

Like a phantom he emerged from the shadows, his all too familiar silhouette taking over the entire alleyway. His footsteps were slow, methodic. Well calculated.

And like a true phantom, he never left you alone.

His presence was dark and imposing, testing out the waters to see whether or not you were going to come out on your own or if he had to get his hands dirty.

However, he did not give you the luxury of thinking.

"Found ya." he said through gritted teeth, his red eyes gleaming like stars in the night.

Stars you would have a hard time looking the same ever again.

[vortexbloom]

Can I request some dialogue heavy scenarios where the HSR men, Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Boothill, Sunday, Jiaoqiu, and Moze are in a relationship with a Neko reader and how they react when the reader jumps up like an actual scared cat when they're spooked.

Sure :)

I decided to make a Aventurine one too btw.

How they‘d react, if they‘d see their Neko Lover jump up like an actual cat when they’re spooked (Seperate OneShots)

Pairing: Jing Yuan / Blade / Dan Heng / Boothill / Sunday / Jiaoqiu / Moze / Aventurine x Neko Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Some parts may be similar

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

⋆˚࿔ 𝒥𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The warm glow of lanterns bathed Jing Yuan’s study in a soft light, casting elongated shadows across the neatly arranged scrolls. It was a quiet evening, the kind he treasured, especially when you were here, curled up beside him, tail lazily flicking as you read through one of his many books.

Jing Yuan leaned back in his chair, golden eyes half lidded with drowsy contentment. He had been watching you for some time now, admiring the way your ears twitched slightly when you were deep in thought. It was a small, endearing habit, one of the many he had come to cherish.

The peace, however, did not last.

A sudden crash echoed through the room as the wind managed to drop a tray, the clattering sound cutting through the silence like a blade.

Your reaction was instant.

Ears flattening, tail bristling, you let out a startled yelp before leaping straight into the air, your body moving with feline agility as you landed on the desk with a soft thud, wide eyed and claws lightly extended. A scroll rolled off the surface, and Jing Yuan barely had the presence of mind to catch his teacup before it tipped over.

Silence.

Then, a deep chuckle.

Jing Yuan pressed a hand to his lips, his broad shoulders shaking as he struggled to contain his amusement. His golden eyes gleamed with mirth as he regarded you, still perched atop the desk.

"My dear," he drawled, voice laced with humor. "I never realized you had such…remarkable reflexes."

You shot him a glare, ears twitching in embarrassment. "That wasn’t funny," you huffed, crossing your arms.

That only made his smirk grow.

"On the contrary, I found it quite delightful." He reached out, fingers brushing over your ears with a gentle touch, smoothing them down as if to soothe your ruffled pride. His gaze softened, though the amusement never quite left his expression. "Though I do apologize if I annoyed too much."

You huffed again but didn’t pull away when his hand slid down to scratch at the base of your ears. The tension in your shoulders slowly melted, replaced by a quiet purr that you refused to acknowledge.

Jing Yuan’s grin widened. "Ah, so I am forgiven?"

You flicked your tail in response, before muttering, "Only if you don’t tease me about this forever."

The General chuckled, leaning forward until his forehead nearly touched yours. "I make no promises."

You just rolled your eyes.

With a swift motion, he tugged you forward, pulling you effortlessly into his lap. A surprised squeak left your lips as he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin atop your head with a satisfied sigh.

"Now, stay here and let me enjoy this warmth a little longer."

You grumbled, but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear was a difficult comfort to resist. So, despite your embarrassment, you let yourself relax in his embrace, tail curling around his wrist as his fingers continued their lazy strokes through your hair.

Jing Yuan merely smiled, content.

This, he decided, was far better than any paperwork.

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ ℬ𝓁𝒶𝒹ℯ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The silence in the room was comfortable, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric as Blade shifted in his seat. He wasn’t one for idle chatter, and you had long since grown used to his quiet nature. It didn’t bother you. If anything, you found a strange sense of peace in his presence, knowing that despite his distant demeanor, he always kept an eye on you.

Curled up on the couch, your tail lazily flicked behind you as you read, the dim glow of the lamp casting soft shadows along the walls. Blade sat nearby, sharpening his sword with slow, methodical movements, his eyes flickering to you every so often.

And then—

BANG!

The sound of something heavy falling outside the room shattered the tranquility. Instinct took over before your mind could catch up, your ears flattened, your tail bristled, and in one swift motion, you leapt straight into the air.

Blade barely had time to react before you landed with perfect feline agility, on top of the bookshelf.

Silence.

He blinked.

Then, without a word, he set his weapon aside and leaned back against his seat, tilting his head slightly as a quiet huff of amusement left his lips.

"…Hmm."

That was it. No teasing remark, no laughter, just that small, almost imperceptible sound of amusement. But you knew him well enough to recognize it.

Your ears twitched. "Don’t say it."

He exhaled through his nose, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Say what?"

You narrowed your eyes. His were unreadable, as always, but there was something behind them? a flicker of entertainment that he was clearly holding back.

Slowly, deliberately, Blade stood up. You tensed, watching as he moved to stand directly in front of the bookshelf, his gaze sharp, calculating. Then, in one fluid motion, he reached up, his strong hands effortlessly wrapping around your waist.

Before you could protest, he lifted you off the shelf with ease.

"You land well," he mused, setting you down in front of him. His hands didn’t immediately let go, lingering at your waist as his thumb brushed against your side. "Jump high, too."

Your tail flicked, your ears still slightly flattened. "Blade."

His lips twitched, just barely. Then, as if the moment had already passed, he released you, stepping back as he picked up his sword once more.

"Next time, land somewhere I can reach you faster."

You stared at him. "Was that…concern?"

He didn’t answer, but the way his fingers tightened briefly around the hilt of his sword told you everything you needed to know.

And despite your lingering embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile.

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ 𝒟𝒶𝓃 ℋℯ𝓃ℊ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The Astral Express was unusually quiet that evening. Most of the crew had retired to their rooms, leaving only the soft hum of the train’s engine and the occasional flicker of passing stars through the windows. You sat comfortably on the couch in the archive room, tail lazily flicking as you drank some tea. Across from you, Dan Heng sat with his own reading material, his gaze focused, his expression as unreadable as ever.

This was routine. A quiet evening together, surrounded by books and tea, with the gentle presence of each other’s company. You liked it this way.

Until—

CLANK.

The sudden noise from the hallway shattered the silence. Something heavy had fallen, perhaps March had dropped her camera again, or Caelus had knocked over something. Either way, the sound was unexpected.

Your body reacted before your mind did. Instinctively, your ears flattened, your tail bristled, and with an alarmed yelp, you leapt straight up into the air.

Straight onto the shelf.

Silence.

Dan Heng’s book remained open in his hands, but his eyes had drifted upward, following your movement. You clung to the top of the shelf, wide eyed, tail still puffed up in fright. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, with a barely perceptible sigh, Dan Heng closed his book.

"I see your reflexes are…impressive."

Your ears twitched, heat creeping up your face. "Don’t say anything."

He tilted his head slightly, expression calm but unreadable. "I didn’t."

You scowled, shifting slightly but realizing with mild horror that getting down was trickier than expected. The shelf was taller than you thought, and your balance was precarious. You hesitated.

Dan Heng noticed.

Without a word, he stood up and walked over, stopping just below you. He extended his arms, gaze steady. "Come down."

You blinked. "I can do it myself."

A pause. Then, his tone softened, just barely. "You’ll land better if I catch you."

You hesitated again, but there was no teasing in his voice, no amusement at your predicament, just quiet patience. Huffing softly, you relented, letting yourself lean forward until gravity took over.

Dan Heng caught you effortlessly, his grip firm yet careful as he steadied you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, his warmth familiar. For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then, he finally spoke again.

"Next time, stay close to me. That way, you won’t have to jump at all."

Your ears twitched, tail flicking against his arm. You mumbled something about not being that easily startled, but the way Dan Heng’s arms lingered just a second longer than necessary told you he wasn’t entirely convinced.

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ ℬℴℴ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The dusty air of Penacony’s lower districts buzzed with distant chatter, neon signs flickering in the twilight. Boothill leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the table, hat pulled low over his face. A slow evening, just how he liked it.

You, on the other hand, were perched on the armrest beside him, tail lazily flicking as you toyed with the rim of his hat. "You always this relaxed, cowboy?" you teased, ears twitching as you watched him.

Boothill let out a slow chuckle, tilting his head just enough to glance at you. "Ain’t no rush, sugar. If trouble comes, I’ll handle it before you even blink."

As if the universe itself wanted to test that claim, a loud crash echoed from the alleyway behind you. Something, someone, had knocked over a stack of crates. The sudden noise sent your instincts into overdrive.

Ears flattening, tail puffing up, you let out a startled yelp before leaping straight up and landing perfectly on one of the wooden beams above. Claws lightly digging into the wood, you clung there, wide eyed, heart pounding.

Silence.

Boothill stayed completely still for a beat. Then, slowly, he lowered his boots from the table, his hand coming up to tip his hat back as he looked up at you. His eyes gleamed under the neon glow, amusement curling at the edges of his smirk.

"Well, ain’t that somethin’."

You groaned. "Don’t."

He chuckled, rolling his shoulders before standing. "Darlin’, you got reflexes quicker than a gunslinger in a standoff. You ever think ‘bout joinin’ me for a duel?"

You shot him a glare, tail flicking irritably. "I don’t see you reacting that fast."

Boothill smirked, tapping his holster. "That’s ‘cause I don’t need to jump, sweetheart. My gun does the talkin’."

You huffed, carefully shifting your weight to prepare for a jump down. But before you could move, Boothill was already underneath you, arms casually open. "Go on. I gotcha."

Your ears twitched. "I can land fine on my own, you know."

He smirked, tilting his head. "I know. But humor me."

You hesitated for only a second before letting go, landing effortlessly in his arms. His grip was steady, warm, secure. You half expected him to tease you, but instead, he just chuckled, adjusting his hold for a brief moment before setting you gently on your feet.

"Next time, sugar, maybe try jumpin’ towards me instead of away."

Your tail flicked against his leg in response, but the way he grinned told you he definitely wasn’t gonna let this go anytime soon.

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ 𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The dazzling lights of Penacony’s Dreamscape cast a golden glow over the lounge, where Sunday lounged effortlessly on a velvet couch, a half empty glass of wine twirling between his fingers. He looked as he always did, relaxed, poised, utterly unreadable.

You, on the other hand, were seated beside him, tail flicking lazily as you nibbled on a delicate pastry. The night was peaceful, the music soft, the company…pleasant.

And then—

BANG!

A bottle behind the bar toppled over, crashing to the ground with a sharp clatter.

Your instincts kicked in before logic could catch up. Ears flattened, tail bristling, you let out a startled yelp and leapt straight up.

Not just a small jump, no, you soared, landing gracefully on the chandelier hanging above the lounge.

Silence.

Sunday, who had not even flinched at the noise, slowly lowered his wine glass, looking up at you with an expression that could only be described as…delightfully intrigued.

"Well, well," he mused, tilting his head as a slow smile curved his lips. "Now that’s what I call a grand performance."

Your tail flicked, embarrassment heating your face as you clung to the chandelier, claws digging slightly into the golden frame. "I—That was—"

He chuckled, setting his drink aside before standing, adjusting his pristine cuffs. "Darling, if you wanted all eyes on you, you only had to ask."

You groaned, ears flattening further. "Don’t start."

Sunday merely extended a hand, the neon reflections in his golden eyes glimmering with amusement. "Come down, love. Or should I call in a ladder?"

You huffed, preparing to leap down, only for Sunday to effortlessly step forward and catch you midair before you even landed. His grip was steady, his arms strong as he pulled you close, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips.

"Impeccable form," he murmured, voice low, teasing.

Your tail flicked against his chest in protest, and he laughed, a smooth, velvety sound.

"Though, next time, my dear…jump into my arms first, won’t you?"

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ 𝒥𝒾𝒶ℴ𝓆𝒾𝓊 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Jiaoqiu sat at his desk, his fingers tracing the lines of his latest research notes. He glanced up from his work, eyes narrowing slightly as his gaze fixed on his beloved, curled up like a content kitten on the sofa, a small book resting ion your lap. The gentle, rhythmic sound of your breathing was oddly soothing, and for a moment, Jiaoqiu allowed himself to indulge in the comfort of your presence.

Then, something happened. A sudden, sharp noise cut through the silence.

The next thing Jiaoqiu knew, you, who had been peacefully dozing, launchedyourself into the air with a startled yelp, an elegant but startled leap that mirrored the precise movements of a frightened cat. Your eyes were wide, the ears on top of your head twitching in every direction, and your tail, Jiaoqiu’s favorite part of you, was puffed up in surprise.

The scene happened so quickly, he couldn’t help but blink in disbelief.

"Jiaoqiu!" Your voice cracked with sudden alarm as you hovered midair, eyes flicking around the room, as if searching for the source of danger.

But Jiaoqiu was no stranger to your cat-like reflexes. Still, it never ceased to amuse him.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, low and warm, as he leaned back in his chair. His expression softened, though there was a glint of affection in his eyes.´´

"Did you got startled, love?" he teased, his voice calm and controlled, as always.

You landed softly back onto the ground, your face flushed with embarrassment. You quickly tried to compose yourself, but your tail betrayed you, flicking erratically behind you as your eyes darted around to make sure the threat (whatever it was) had passed.

"I…I wasn’t expecting that noise," you stammered, still trying to regain your bearings.

Jiaoqiu stood up from his desk, taking slow, measured steps toward you. His hand gently reached out, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. He couldn't resist teasing you a little further, but there was a tender warmth in his voice.

"You’re so cute when you’re startled,´´ he said, his lips curling into a soft smile. ´´You remind me of a cat, always so quick to react."

His words made your cheeks burn brighter, making you pull your knees up to your chest, feeling embarassed. You were so used to your feline-like tendencies, the ears, the tail, the reflexes, but hearing Jiaoqiu call you cute´ always ´turned you into a blushing mess.

"I didn’t jump that high!" you protested weakly, though the sheepish smile on your face said otherwise.

Jiaoqiu chuckled, sitting next to you on the couch. "You did. And I think it’s adorable," he said, his voice softening. "I never thought I’d be so lucky to have someone so…unique, so full of life."

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. Despite the teasing, there was a sincerity in his words. Jiaoqiu wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and when he did, it meant something.

"Really?" you asked quietly, your tail swishing a little more contentedly now.

Jiaoqiu nodded, his gaze soft and unwavering. "Absolutely."

He took your hand gently, pulling you closer to him, and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing his fingers over the tips of your ears. "Now, I think it’s time for you to relax, my little neko. I’ll make sure nothing scares you for the rest of the evening."

You felt your heart melt as you curled closer to him, feeling safe in his embrace. Youwere still a little embarrassed about your jump, after all, you had hoped to appear graceful, even with the feline traits youcouldn’t help but flaunt. But Jiaoqiu never made you feel self conscious.

In fact, he loved you all the more for it.

And so, in the calm after the the startle, the two of you settled together.

As Jiaoqiu continued to hold you, his beloved, close, you realized that sometimes, being startled and falling into the arms of someone who cared, made everything in the world seem perfectly aligned.

"Jiaoqiu" you whispered, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. "Thank you for always being here."

He smiled, brushing a gentle hand through your hair, his heart swelling with love.

"Always."

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ ℳℴ𝓏ℯ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Moze had seen a lot of things in his time. But watching his lover, his sweet, supposedly normal lover, leap straight into the air like a startled cat? Yeah, that was new.

The night had been quiet. You walked beside Moze, tail swaying lazily, ears twitching at the distant sounds of the city. Moze, ever the picture of relaxed confidence, strolled with his hands in his pockets, cigarette hanging from his lips.

Then—

BANG!

A trash can tipped over in a nearby alley.

Before Moze could so much as glance over, you sprang into the air, landing effortlessly on the ledge of a street sign.

Silence.

Moze stood there, cigarette paused between his fingers, head tilting up to look at you. His eyes gleamed with slow, dawning amusement.

"Huh." He exhaled smoke, taking his time before smirking. "Didn’t take you for the ‘climb first, think later’ type."

Your tail flicked in embarrassment. "It was instinct!"

"Instinct, huh?" His smirk widened. "So, what’s the plan now, kitten? You settin’ up shop up there, or you need a rescue?"

You huffed, crossing your arms. "I don’t need rescuing."

"That so?" He took a step closer, tapping ash from his cigarette. "Then jump down."

You hesitated. The leap up had been easy. The jump down, especially with Moze watching so intently, felt…humiliating.

His grin turned lazy as he opened his arms. "C’mon. You know I gotcha."

With a sigh, you finally leapt and true to his word, Moze caught you effortlessly, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you against him.

"Told ya," he murmured, voice warm against your ear.

You buried your face in his shoulder. "You’re never gonna let this go, are you?"

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Nope. Might even start keepin’ a tally."

You groaned, but his laughter, low, teasing, and utterly fond, made it a little harder to stay mad.

════════════════════════════

⋆˚࿔ 𝒜𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃ℯ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Aventurine had seen many things in his line of work, bluffs, desperate gambles, high risk plays that paid off or crashed spectacularly. But nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for the sight of you his oh so charming lover, springing into the air like an actual startled cat.

The two of you had been walking through the Reverie, his usual smug confidence on full display as he lazily shuffled a deck of cards in one hand. You, tail swaying, ears twitching at every sound, strolled beside him, casually entertained by his smooth talk about probabilities and luck.

Then, the universe decided to throw in an unexpected variable.

A sudden clatter, a serving tray crashing to the floor behind you.

In an instant, your body reacted before your mind could catch up, ears flattened, tail puffed, and you launched yourself straight up, landing gracefully atop a decorative light fixture.

Silence.

Aventurine blinked. Slowly. Then, with the ease of a man who had just been blessed with the most amusing hand of cards ever dealt, he let out a low, delighted chuckle.

"Well, well. I must say, I didn’t account for this particular…reflex of yours."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "Don’t start."

"Oh, but I must." He smirked up at you, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You know, darling, if you wanted a change in perspective, you could’ve just asked. Climbing the decor seems a bit dramatic, even for you."

"I didn’t mean to!" you huffed, tail flicking in irritation. "It was instinct!"

"Instinct, you say?" He tapped a finger against his chin, as if considering his next move in a game. "Fascinating. You do this often? Perhaps I should start placing bets on how high you’ll go next time?"

You shot him a glare. He only laughed, ever the picture of infuriating amusement.

Finally, he stretched out a hand, voice laced with an exaggerated sigh. "Come now, kitten. As much as I enjoy this newfound discovery, I’d rather not have my partner perched above me like some elusive jackpot prize."

You hesitated, only because you knew the second you were back on the ground, he’d never let you live this down. Still, with no other choice, you leapt down.

Aventurine caught you with infuriating ease, his arms securing you in place before he leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "See? Always a safe bet with me."

You groaned, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. "You’re never letting this go, are you?"

His smirk widened. "Oh, sweetheart. Not in a million cycles."

© 2024-2025 vortexbloom all rights reserved. Don’t repost, edit, translate or plagiarize my work!

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[moonsaver]

Wait listen.

Yandere!Boothill who only got to know you by complete accident. It was a chance call, and when you picked up, you were met with a barrage of threats and well-implied insults. Your prolonged silence and meek response was enough to catch him completely off guard, and he realizes he's dialed the wrong person again. He jokes around a bit with you, almost apologetically, and the call ends off on a strangely light mood.

Yandere!Boothill, who either calls you on accident again, or just does it because he's got some time left over before his next mission, and he figures it'd be great having a bit of company until then. The conversation drags on a bit longer, and both of you get more and more familiar with each other. He's laughing and keeping the conversation going at speedy lengths, very obviously pleased by the company.

Yandere!Boothill, who only mentions once that he wants to come over, and you can't deny him, because barely an hour later, he's banging on your door with a barely constrained magnitude, and barges right in while you stand there, rightfully confused and unsure.

Yandere!Boothill, who's touchy but absolutely manhandles you. He's not careful in the slightest. He tells you he's sorry and he's just "tryna be friendly", but his vice grip on your arm keeps you so firmly grounded on the cushion of the sofa beside you, as if he's affirming your stay like a criminal.

Yandere!Boothill who forces you to drink with him, regardless of whether or not you even drink. Constantly pushes you to have a sip, tells you "it's barely anythin'", and fills your glass to the brim, forcing you to gulp it down until there's not a drop left. You can only hope you're not going to end up with even more bruises as you feel him manhandle you and pull you closer and almost crush you against the cool metal of his chest, your blurry vision closing into darkness as the alcohol makes you pass out. The last thing you hear is his snarling, low laughter, and the speeding whir of his system.

Yandere!Boothill, who will always find you. Wherever you go, whichever planet you decide to hop to, whatever corner you decide to hide in. He'll mark your neck just like the first time, litter your body with cute little lovebites, make you have the worst hangover of your life all over again. He'll know just which door to knock, or which door to bust down.

[yandere-wishes]

Unconventional cowboys, my LOVE!!

That being said anyone want to be on the Boothill x reader taglist? Let me know in the comments.