Sascha

she/her | 23 | ISFJ | 2w1 | happily taken!! 2yrs+ Wuwa | HSR+Genshin | CROB+CRK | Amogus

[dreamerdevotee]

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐱 𝐟.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

CW: improper use of a gun (after being modified for safety, because Boothill loves you and cares about you)

Boothill x f!Reader, pwp, established relationship, AFAB reader, no mentions of reader's pronouns, one mention of the reader wearing a skirt, one instance of Boothill calling the reader "my pretty lady" — feel free to ignore/tweak them as you see fit!

A/N: A tiny little bit of tasteful degeneracy and slightly kinky, this is not vanilla, but also not too unhinged either I promise!! Included some eye-dialect for Boothill's speech. Little bit of wholesome fluff at the end♡ Lastly, this is a special little dedication to the lovely Mouthofprotagoras from r/HSRmales, and all thirsty Boothill lovers~ Enjoy!!♡

Word Count: 4,736

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It’s been a couple days since you first brought up to Boothill the idea of introducing gun play to your bedroom life. The thought excited you, the image of him in your fantasies pleasuring you with such a dangerous, forbidden object, quite unbearably sexy. 

However, as a respectable gunsman, Boothill was understandably hesitant, if not borderline revolted at first. He did not want to hurt your feelings by flat-out rejecting your brave, albeit outrageous idea; but that was his biggest mistake. For the lack of a definitive answer only gave you the green light to keep insisting on it, almost begging him, telling him how much you trust him, and how excited the thought made you. 

And soon, Boothill caved. Indeed, he could not resist your puppy eyes, nor bear to deny you pleasure. However, one thing remained firm. He was not going to endanger you in any way, no matter how unlikely the scenario was. He knew very well how dangerous firearms were. And even if empty, he refused to risk putting one inside you. 

…Not without the necessary safety precautions, at least. So, finally, after many long days of pleading, discussions about safety concerns, and reassurances, he finally figured out a compromise that would keep the excitement real for you, yet give him the peace of mind that nothing could go wrong, enough to hopefully loosen up and get into it himself. 

He purchased a second revolver, of the same model as the one he used in battle. It seemed quite important to you that it was *his gun* specifically. An authentic piece, the real deal, not a simple replica. Yet this one would have a far more peaceful, yet quite possibly a lot less noble purpose than the one resting at his hip. And for that, he needed to weld its muzzle and bullet chambers shut, and the trigger into place, effectively rendering the thing unable to be loaded and fire, or even as little as catch and irritate any sensitive skin, even on accident. It was now little more than a harmless metal fidget, yet one that looked very much just as thrilling as a loaded gun. He tested its weight into his hand, then leisurely spun it around his finger a couple times. He seemed satisfied enough by the safety of the object to finally agree and enact your fantasy, and… quite possibly even allow himself to let loose and enjoy the act in full, free of worries, which would have not been possible otherwise. 

The lights were dim in your bedroom that night, your heart racing as he beckoned you over by gently swaying the firearm back and forth in his hand. Your eyes glimmered as you obediently climbed into bed, straddling him. His top and cowboy hat were long discarded, as his well-sculpted metallic torso was fully exposed to you, and his face was unshadowed for you to see his eyes clearly, without the obstruction of the hat's brim. And a red glint flickered in his hunter's eyes, making you shiver with delight, feeling not merely like prey, but a prize catch for him to take. And his keen senses didn't deceive him about that. 

“I can sense your adrenaline, sugar,” he smirked, bearing his sharp teeth. 

“It- it's just,” you stuttered despite yourself. “I did not expect you to actually agree–” your breath hitched into your throat as Boothill interrupted you by pressing the muzzle of the revolver against your rosy lips. 

“No need to explain, sweetheart,” he leaned in dangerously close to your face, teasingly tapping the cold metal against your skin. 

He was quite stunned with himself upon the realisation the sight before his eyes did, in fact, turn him on as well. He had not expected himself to be into gun play so easily. Perhaps it was less the gun itself, and more the way you looked at him, with your glossy pleading eyes, flushed cheeks, and those plump lips he couldn't wait to devour, as they desperately clung to the welded metal, almost as if begging to perform fellatio on the object. 

“Look at'cha… You want this iron in your mouth, darlin’?” 

You could only slowly nod your head as you bit the inside of your cheek, unable to even look him in the eyes. A moment later, you found yourself pouting in disappointment as you felt the metal leave your lips, after having expected he would push it further past them. Only for your cheeks to become even redder when you watched his next action. 

“Then come get it,” he cooed charmingly, lowering the gun down to his pelvis as a placeholder for his own member, and licking his lips at the priceless expression you so vulnerably put on display for him. Poor you… he almost felt bad for teasing you. Almost. But he enjoyed it more. 

Your lips started trembling at the implication, but you were unable to resist. So you lowered your head, passing your tongue over the barrel of the gun, only to whimper as you felt Boothill's fingers reach into your hair. You felt yourself tremble as he guided your head, making you take the length of the gun into your mouth, and moving your head up and down in an agonizingly slow motion. Your lips trembled on the metal as saliva pooled into your mouth. You tried to swallow it, but you positioned your tongue wrong, the tip of the barrel pressing against it as you lowered your head, making you gag and allowing the clear fluid to escape your mouth and drip down the length of the weapon.

Boothill's breath hitched ever so slightly, a small sound involuntarily escaping his lips as his cheeks flushed red at the sight. He slowly, slowly pulled the gun out of your mouth as you caught your breath, your head already hazy. A soft moan escaped you when you felt him pull at your hair just enough to lift your gaze up. The subtle feeling of dull pain in your scalp was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. It took you every muscle in your body to stop yourself from letting your eyes roll. 

But when they finally settled on Boothill, your pupils dilated and you could feel your heart skip a beat. He licked a drop of your saliva from the length of the gun with one lascivious motion of his tongue, leaving you breathless. Something about that gesture made you feel a knot in your stomach. 

“Mmm,” he hummed. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard his leisurely vocalisation that sounded far too similar to ignore, to the sound of enjoying the taste of something delightful. “Mhm… I think I'd like more of that,” he made a deliberate pause, almost as if dragging the moment. And not even he himself could tell if it was simply because he wished to tease you a little longer, or because he enjoyed seeing your face as you were now. “Wadd'ya say ya come a little closer?” he smirked. The sight of those sharp teeth made you weak every time. 

So you could only comply, your thighs shaking as you struggled to keep your balance while straightening your back and kneeling above him. He wasted no time in pulling you closer against his broad, metallic frame, locking your lips with his own in a ravenous kiss. Your lips trembled against his as he mercilessly claimed your mouth, his tongue slipping in and dominating yours in a way that took your breath away, and made your core tighten around nothing. 

Your head was already spinning from the fervour, but this close, your ears were flooded with the sound of a soft mechanical rumble within his chest, and with each second you fell more and more into a trance. The feeling of Boothill's chest as your breasts were squished against the hard surface– not the usual coldness of steel, but a comforting warmth akin to a human's… He was overheating. The act overwhelmed his system. It seemed not even cyborgs were spared from the weakness caused by such raw human emotion. 

He pressed his tongue against yours, and you softly gagged, a drop of saliva rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth. Finally, you could no longer help yourself. And almost as if without your mind, your body started grinding his hard groin through the layers of your clothing. He inhaled sharply for a moment, before his hand slipped between the two of you under your skirt, cupping your parts only covered by your thin underwear, and pushing you upward and away from his crotch, earning a delightfully pathetic whine from your ravaged mouth. 

You attempted to wriggle your way out of his palm, however, noticing your restlessness, Boothill pushed his middle finger slightly upwards, just enough for you to rub it slightly against your entrance through the soft cloth. Your hand immediately shot up to your mouth, covering it in an attempt to muffle a shaky moan. The bastard seemed to enjoy watching you fall apart before him. 

“Nu-uh sweetcheeks,” he chuckled dryly. “So needy… Didn'cha say there was somethin’ you wanted to do with this toy here first?” he pushed the tip of the gun against your core, making you whimper. “I know you're hungry for the real deal… but you brought this upon yourself,” he cooed as he began moving it in slow circles against the fabric of your underwear. “Let's see if you get half as much pleasure from this bastard as I offer you…” he spoke with a slight growl as he pushed your underwear aside, revealing your already slick folds, and positioning the welded barrel at your entrance. “Ride it,” he instructed with a sultry voice, his eyes lowering to watch you take it. 

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling as you began mentally scolding yourself for what you've gotten yourself into. What were you thinking?... You were left craving your partner's member, the object of your fantasy now becoming an obstacle in feeling Boothill inside of you. But your core ached for something, anything, inside of you. So you swallowed your pride, telling yourself this would have to do until he would take mercy on you and take you himself. 

You lowered yourself onto the barrel of the gun, your hand pressing against your mouth, partly to muffle an involuntary whimper, and partly to hide your bright red face in embarrassment. He grinned, seeming quite pleased with your dejected expression. “Awh, what's that, sweetheart?... Not as fun as you'd thought?” he asked mockingly as he pressed the object further into you, and your hand trembled against your warm face. 

“Ah, that pitiful face… You'll make me feel bad ya'know,” he huffed with a half-hearted chuckle, pressing his thumb against your clit, making you whine his name through whimpers.

Coincidentally, this particular revolver model just so happened to naturally have a very… *friendly* shape for penetration, allowing you to slide seamlessly all the way down over the trigger guard, which would not have been possible with the shaping of standard firearms. You let out a helpless yelp as you pressed your hand over your mouth to no use, your eyes rolling back slightly when you felt the muzzle of the gun press against your cervix. 

However, Boothill's reaction to realising this was quite the opposite of yours, as his hand rushed to hold your waist as if to still you. “H-hold on…” his voice trembled, eyes widened slightly, searching yours to make sure you were alright. That was the moment he showed the first crack in his composure. He did not plan, nor expect for the object to go inside you so deep. It unsettled him. He had prepared everything for your safety, and something did not go *strictly* according to his meticulous planning of safety standards. 

The gun was obviously still physically unable to be loaded or fired. He triple checked it right after he welded it shut with his own hands, and quadruple checked it before getting in bed with you. And yet, to him, it felt like anything he didn't think of and plan ahead for could be a threat to your safety, no matter how small it was. And he could not permit that. 

His fingertips gripped your waist with a lot more force than he intended, the tension and strain apparent even in his mechanical body. You inhaled sharply with the feeling of pleasurable, dull pain, secretly hoping they would dot your tender skin with light bruises. The thought of being marked by him by such means was enough to get your walls to tighten around the body of the gun. 

But you had to level yourself for a moment, your heart swelling as you heard Boothill softly whisper your name, asking you if you were okay, and if you'd rather stop. You placed your warm hand over his metallic one, feeling it run cold by now. His shoulders dropped only ever-so-slightly with your gentle touch, but he was unmistakably still startled. 

So you slowly lifted your other hand to his cheek, stroking his skin oh-so-tenderly as you looked into his dark eyes with a soft smile despite your position. “Everything is okay, I am okay,” you reassured him with the softest coo you could muster while your core ached for more. “Please… continue,” you spoke, your face so close to his that your lips were almost ghosting against his with every word.

Finally, you closed the distance, capturing his lips with fervour, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug as you began moving up and down the shaft of the gun. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes for only a second, until you breathed a soft sigh of pleasure into his mouth, and in that moment he pulled you closer to himself, his eyelids fluttering shut. Your sultry voice and hypnotic kiss manage to dispel his worries at last, prompting him to slowly remove his finger from the locked trigger to allow the gun to slide inside you all the way to the grip, even taking it upon himself to gently thrust it up and down inside of you so you could rest your hips. All the while, his thumb was still rubbing slow circles onto your clit, drawing out long sighs and muffled moans from you, all of which he swallowed with satisfaction. 

“Haa…ah–” you moaned softly through the quiet sounds of your wet lips and tongues against each other as the minutes passed, until you slowly reached for his wrist, stopping his thrusting motion, and slowly pulling away, a thin strand of your mixed saliva still connecting you two for but a moment, before you opened your eyes and looked into his. “Boothill–... the metal… is rough,” you whined softly, your tender lips trembling, pink and swollen from long minutes of passionate kissing. 

Boothill did not want to tell you ‘I told you so', especially not when you looked so disheveled already. He reached out his hand to your cheek, and you nuzzled into his palm, surprised by how warm it was. And as he caressed your flushed skin, you were far too busy reveling in the feeling of comfort and safety, that you did not even wince when the man pulled out the gun from inside of you –slowly and carefully enough to not hurt you– and discarded it on the bed beside himself. “Then we should take a break… Catch a breather, rest,” he instructed you gently, but you simply bit the inside of your cheek with a little pout. 

You did not cum. He hadn't either. You were far from satisfied. Though you had to admit, it did truly tug at your heartstrings, simply how gentle and willing to allow you to rest he was, after you made the smallest mention of the act being rough on you. Though, you hardly meant you wanted to stop entirely. Let's just say you wanted something… more appropriate for your insides than the revolver. Something like… Boothill's member. 

“That's not what I meant, my silly cowboy,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, until his face rested comfortably nestled in the warm side of your neck. “It's just… I think I'd prefer something… more familiar, after all…” you whispered in his ear, one of your hands gently trailing down his hard abdomen –tracing every line of the plates that constructed his defined abs– before coming to a rest at the buckle of his belt. 

A visible pink blush adorned his cheeks. “Is… that so?” he asked quietly, placing a few soft kisses to your neck, all the way to right under your ear, finding a little spot that made your entire body shiver as he wrapped his strong arms around you to steady you. He heaved out a sigh. “‘Ya sure about that?...”

“Mhm,” you nodded enthusiastically, your hand finding its way into Boothill's delightfully dishevelled hair, as you massaged his scalp with your fingertips. 

The man let out a quiet hum, nuzzling into your plush breast. “Well then… far be it from me to deny ya anythin’ you desire,” he smirked, placing a kiss onto your soft skin. You echoed with a smile of your own, breathing a little sigh at the feeling on his lips on your chest. Meanwhile, he freed his member from his pants, which was now erect as he positioned himself at your entrance. 

You felt the soft silicone caress your folds for a couple moments at first, making your shiver. “P-please don't tease me… Put it in,” you breathed out, reaching your hand down to guide it in, only for Boothill to take it and interlace his fingers with yours in a loving gesture, letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Impatient much?.. Is that how much ya want me, hm?” 

You blushed, your lips trembling. His voice was more guttural than usual, and it made you feel the butterflies in your stomach grow even more restless. It was a sensual, resonant sound that made your head lightly spin. He seemed to be hopelessly oblivious to the power his deep voice had over you, especially in the moments it got slightly coarse like this. You were practically melting in his arms. 

He reached his hand out to your face to lovingly stroke your cheek, lifting his chin to look into your sparkly eyes, glossy with desire. “Don'cha worry… I'll give ya what you need, my pretty lady,” he hummed, finally slipping inside of you, drawing a long breath. “Haah… mh, so warm,” he murmured under his breath. His body may have overheated, but it didn't compare to the temperature of your core as your sleek walls enveloped him, welcoming him so effortlessly. He may have been a cyborg, but his body was hardly unsensing iron. In fact, he had feeling all over his body, a little different than yours, translated to his brain through electrical signals, current, and heat. And right now, your heat… it made him feel the unbearable, almost animalistic urge of a hunter to claim its prey, that he had to consciously stifle in order to not completely ruin you, devour you whole. 

You smiled and closed your eyes at the pleasant, familiar feeling. No rough edges, no cold, hard metal. Just smooth, firm silicone carefully tailored to fill you up just right… You carefully cupped Boothill's face with your free hand, squeezing his own that you still held, as you leaned in to lock your lips in yet another feverish kiss. 

His other hand trailed down your spine, tracing the small of your back, only to come to a rest on your bum. He carefully squeezed your plump flesh, making you whimper as he guided your hips up and down his shaft. Your lips caressed his with fervour, your face burning, and your chest aching with desire. He swallowed hard, a low throaty sound escaping his lips, which you swallowed with delight. Every involuntary sound he made told you you were satisfying him well, and that made your heart flutter. 

As you rode him, you felt him grow quite more and more desperate, as you were. His hands now both grasped your hips, seeming to pull you down all the way onto himself delightfully forcefully, in a way that showed you undeniably just how much he craved you. As you swallowed hard and pressed your hand over your mouth to stifle your whimpers as you felt your thighs shaking, you could swear you were not even moving anymore, and he was struggling to thrust his hips up into you himself –even from his sitting position– chasing you, and his high. 

You finally gripped his shoulder, your fingers shaking as you held onto the steel tightly to anchor yourself as you neared seeing stars, his soft tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. “B-Boothill–... I– Please…–” you stuttered, your lips quivering. At this point the pleasure and weakness you felt were enough to render you unable to even understand exactly what you were saying or what you were about to ask of him with that barely audible ‘please’. 

His hands resting on your thighs tightened slightly over your skin, as he finally realised how unsteady you were, and how much your legs surely must have been burning from the strain of being on top –though the pleasure he provided to you was so overwhelming that it completely overrode any numbness or aching– and decided to relieve you of that burden. 

He heaved out a breath and pulled you closer to himself, wrapping his arms around you, hearing you whine and pout softly as he slipped out of you in the process. “Ahh, I know darlin', I know… Hold on a second f’ me, alright?” he hushed you smoothly as he turned around and lay you on your back, finally finding himself on top of you. 

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your core aching for him, as you welcomed him into your arms, urging him to lean down onto you. And as he finally bottomed out all the way inside of you again –making you bite your lip and loll your head back realising that you could now feel his member vibrating rhythmically against your sweet spot– you further entrapped him atop of you by wrapping your legs around his waist. You could almost hear him let out an amused scoff, quite pleased with knowing you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. 

And as he began rocking his hips into you, finally, the groaning started. You began to feel yourself slipping, almost losing your mind in those delightful, gruff sounds. “Yes–... just like that. So good, you're so good f’ me… Ah, Aeons…” he slurred his speech the closer he got to his high, his voice raspy as if he was parched, and you could almost swear you heard him mutter a few little curses under his breath – which were of course, still distorted by the synesthesia beacon, but this time you didn't even notice. Not only did it not bother you, but you reveled in the sound of his rough voice, pulling him closer onto you, knowing he was losing composure solely because of how good you made him feel. Seems you truly had as much power over him as he did over you. You were utterly lovesick for each other. 

Feeling you get closer to your high, his mind –hazy from chasing his own release, almost drunk on your love– still cared more about you feeling pleasure first; therefore, his hand found its way lower to your clit once more, pressing his thumb against it to skillfully toy with the sensitive bundle of nerves exactly the way he knew would push you over the edge. 

And it didn't fail. He simply knew your body too well, and all the ways to make you fold. Your glossy eyes rolled back, and your spine arched as he pulled you up even closer onto himself, reveling in the delightful feeling of you squeezing his waist between your warm, plush thighs. Throughout the seconds you came undone, and your hands uselessly balled into fists against the sheets, desperately trying to anchor yourself, he made sure to draw it out for you, continuing to thrust gently, his tip constantly brushing against your spot, all the while never removing his thumb from your swollen nub. 

Only when your body stopped spasming and your desperate, unintelligible moans and utters of his name eased down into shallow, heavy breaths, did he allow himself his own climax. A choked sound escaped his very chest as he felt a rush of electricity and heat surge all over his body, overwhelming his senses as his arms wrapped around you and held you pressed onto himself, holding on so tightly, almost as if the feeling was so utterly consuming that for a moment, he might have felt like he was going to die for a second time…

It lasted only a second, but the way his head spun afterwards as his arm trembled onto the bed against you –desperate to maintain his weight up as to not fall onto you with his heavy metallic frame and hurt you– and the way his eyes were trained on your visage, and yet also at the same time almost somewhat absent, as if his thoughts were still clouded by the lingering pleasure, and his conscious brain could not fully register reality clearly just yet… it made your chest feel so warm. Your heart jumped with joy and love. You did this to him; you caused him so much pleasure that he was now barely holding himself up, utterly undone atop of you. 

You couldn't take it anymore. And just as he was about to finally catch his breath, you pulled him all the way onto yourself. He panicked as his hand slipped, causing his full body's weight to lean upon you, sinking you further into the foam mattress and forcing you to let out a soft, involuntary ‘uff’ sound, as he uselessly scrambled to regain his hold and hoist his torso up to take the weight off of you, wreathing around in your warm embrace as you kept his head firmly in place between your warm breasts. 

“N-no, wait- wait, I'll hurt you– the metal– it's too heavy–” he stuttered, calling out your name in a panic, trying to get you to release him so he could relieve you of the pressure, until you began shushing him gently, causing him to finally slow down and stop thrashing around in your arms. 

“Shh, shh… Boothill…” you hummed gently, massaging his scalp with your fingertips. And just like a sweet little puppy receiving head pats from his beloved owner –his whole world– it immediately calmed him down, causing him to rest his head onto you almost subconsciously. “You're always worried about that… I promise you're not hurting me. I'm not as fragile as you think,” you chuckled. The delightful sound of your soft little laugh was like honey to him. “Your weight against me… feels comfortable, and safe,” you reassured him. “Shielding,” you clarified with a reverent whisper. And in his half-dazed state, beginning to feel more and more sleepy –both due to the intensity of his orgasm, and the way you seemed to intentionally lull him to sleep– he nodded quietly as his eyelids finally fluttered shut. 

Yes. That was everything he ever wanted. To shield you, from everything that was evil and unholy in this cruel world. To protect you, even at the expense of his body and very life. These were his last thoughts as the last of his processing power slowly turned off, and he drifted off to sleep in your arms, finally sinking fully onto you, and you onto the cushy mattress, happily, comfortably weighted down by his still warm body. You've always wished to hold him like this, having him lay so peacefully and vulnerably onto your chest… Just like this, where he belonged. 

Humming sweet, loving little words in barely-audible whispers, your warm breath ghosting his ear, you listened to the low sound of a quietly rumbling engine and the clockwork of mechanical parts within his chest cavity. And to you, that was the truest, most comforting and loving heartbeat you have ever heard.