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“Oh, here comes the boy! There’s my darling little fella!”
Boothill, who had just entered the lounge in your little spaceship, flashes his sharp teeth in a toothy little grin. He scratches his cheek, feeling a little flustered at the affectionate and fond tone in which you were gushing over him. Sure, he may be an intimidating, six foot something cyborg who tends to get trigger happy at times but that doesn’t mean he isn’t weak to being fawned over like this! Especially when it comes from the apple of his eye, you.
“Aw shucks, sugar! Yer really layin’ it on thick, ain’t ya- Oh, forkin’ hell,” Boothill curses. Fooled and ignored once again. He had a feeling Aha was surely laughing it up at his expense currently. Namely because, well, you weren’t fawning over Boothill. Not exactly.
Perhaps it’s best to rewind to a couple weeks earlier to explain Boothill’s current predicament, no?
–
“Aw jeez, darlin’. I’m real sorry, swear on mah hat, I am!” Boothill all but groveled at your feet, desperate to get you to look at him. He could stand anything, from incendiary rounds to lashings but to have the love of his life actively ignore him? That cut deeper than any knife ever could.
“It’s easy for you to apologize but think about how I feel! You said the bounty wouldn’t take so long!” You huffed, lightly jerking your leg in a half-hearted attempt to shake the cowboy off. Aeons above, he really did have an iron grip. Quite literally.
“It wasn’t s’posed to take so long! Ranger’s honor, darlin’!”
“Hard to take you seriously when a man like you doesn’t really have much honor to speak of.”
Ouch. Boothill winced at that but he was quick to recover. He could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to. Not even you stood a chance and that was certainly an achievement.
“Yer killin’ me ‘ere, sugar… It ain’t my fault the target was so hard to track down! I tried my best to wrap things up clean an’ quick but y’know how it gets with these kinds o’ stuff.”
“So I’m just supposed to forgive you for leaving me all alone in the spaceship for nearly two weeks? Do you have any idea on how lonely it gets here? I had half a mind to start talking to the stars!”
“Well, I mean… forgivin’ me is kinda the goal here …”
“Boothill, I’m being serious!”
The man in question sighs. He really had fucked up this time, hadn’t he? He’d promised that he’d take care of a bounty within a day or two, give or take, before returning back to the ship and spending some much-needed time with you. However, one day turned to two and two days turned to three until it became increasingly clear that Boothill would not be showing up for some time.
You’d tried to send him a message, asking about his whereabouts and how his mission was going but had cursed when you remembered that Boothill tended to keep his phone switched off so as not to jeopardize a mission like a handful of times before… It’s his fault, really. You’d always been telling him to change that godawful ringtone of his to something else. I mean, who the hell wouldn’t get suspicious if they suddenly heard the loud strumming of a banjo out of nowhere?
Regardless, you had tried your utmost to stay patient. You threw yourself into your own work, keeping yourself occupied so you wouldn’t worry yourself to death over your lover or get too worked up over the fact that he’d made a promise to come back as quickly as he could and take you out on several dates. The two of you had been so busy lately with your respective missions. Some quality time where you and Boothill did nothing else except for being the two most insufferable and lovey-dovey people in existence was long overdue. You’d even planned out various outfits for the outings!
When Boothill had finally dragged himself back home and sheepishly popped his head into the room that serves as your workspace, you were beyond pissed. Quite frankly, you were patting yourself on the back for not going nearly as ballistic as you had been feeling. Anyhow, that’s what had led up to the cowboy currently clinging to your legs and whining like a lovesick puppy.
“Look darlin’, I know I forked up, okay? I should’a tried to at least send ya a text an’ explain things instead o’ leavin’ ya all alone like this. I know it ain’t easy,” and he really did mean it. Boothill was no stranger to loneliness and knew just how terrifying it could be to drift through the vast cosmos with no hope of getting into any form of contact with someone you knew. He’d been there, done that already, during a time when bombs fell from the skies instead of snow or rain. “Lemme make it up to ya, sugar. I swear that fer the next few weeks, you’ll get to have me all to yerself!”
And this time, Boothill really did make good on his promise. He took you everywhere, from the beaches and aquariums of Lushaka to tasting the most exquisite Xianzhou dishes that the ships had to offer. He wasted absolutely no expense in the hopes of getting that beautiful smile back on your face and so you’d stop being mad at him. His poor bastard heart just couldn’t take any more of your frowns and glares. It’s not like Boothill was particularly hurting for money anyways. Thanks to the multiple bounties and missions the two of you pulled off, he had more credits than he knew what to do with. Sure, they were mainly ill-gotten gains but if they went to good use, such as keeping you happy, then no principles of his were broken and everyone walks away as happy as a gunslinger in an arms store.
On one of the dates that Boothill had taken you out on, he surprised you with a little something. Something that he had no idea would come back to bite him in the ass.
“A… plushie?” You raised a brow and prodded at the doll in your hands.
“Right on, sugar! Figured I’d get ya a lil’ somethin’ to make the lonely days a tad more bearable,” Boothill grinned, feeling immensely proud of himself for coming up with the idea. He’ll admit, perhaps it’s a bit egotistical to get you a plushie of himself but I mean, hey. Who wouldn’t want a mini Boothill by their side? He knows he certainly wouldn’t mind.
“So… you got me a plushie of yourself instead of… Oh, I dunno, learning to keep your promises and balance your work and personal life in a better way?”
Boothill’s toothy smile faltered. Shit, maybe it hadn’t been such a bright idea after all. Stupid, stupid!
“Now look ‘ere, darlin’. Y’know how it is in my line o’ work. I can’t promise things ‘cause there’s too many movin’ pieces, get what I’m sayin’? I’ll try mah best to make more time fer the two o’ us. I don’t like bein’ away from ya any more than y’do. But… think o’ the lil’ fella as a backup, in case I get caught up in somethin’, yeah? I mean, who can resist this ol’ face, right?” He grabs the plushie and holds it up, his expression matching the plushie’s.
You sighed, pinching at the plushie’s soft cheeks. Huh… maybe having a little tiny Boothill around wouldn’t be so bad.
“Alright, you’ve got a point. Now, c’mere and stop pouting,” which was followed by a chaste kiss on the lips. You were just as weak for Boothill as he was for you.
Truly, a match made in heaven.
–
That’s how Boothill had now ended up in this current situation. He’s been replaced! By a mini-him no less! It was a severe blow to his ego, to see you being more invested in a plushie of him than the man himself.
The cowboy wasn’t quite so sure as to how this entire mess had even started! You hadn’t been particularly thrilled with the plushie at first. I mean, at first, Boothill was convinced you’d maybe use the doll as a means of taking out your anger on him with the way you stared at it sometimes. He half expected to walk in to see it turned into a glorified voodoo doll.
Perhaps it was the giant eyes and the admittedly cute expression on the doll. Boothill had to pat himself on the back. The company that he’d commissioned to make the plushie had impeccable craftsmanship. The eyes, albeit wider than his own, resembled his own to a T, down to his crosshair pupils even! The hair was soft and fluffy, though not nearly as luxurious and beautiful as his own, thank you kindly. The company had even sewn clothes for the plushie that could be taken off and put on along with a matching cowboy hat! They’d certainly outdone themselves.
Boothill squints at the plushie in your hands, gritting his teeth over the way you were peppering its stupid and dumb little face with kisses. Yep. It was definitely the eyes. It hadn’t taken long for its clueless expression to wear you down and render you hopelessly infatuated with it.
At first, you opted to simply keep it on your bedside table. A while later, you had begun fussing with the plushie’s hat, adjusting it to the side and giggling quietly at the way the doll’s cuteness only amplified when the hat’s brim covered nearly everything save for its big ol’ eyes and tiny mouth. It reminded you way too much of how Boothill himself looked so endearing when he’d hide his eyes with his hat because you’d flustered the poor guy too much.
From there, it only snowballed once you realized just how closely the plushie had been made in Boothill’s likeness. It even had his chubby little cheeks! You could almost imagine the plushie whining and swatting at your hands the same way Boothill did whenever your urges surfaced! You just couldn’t help but coo at the adorable thing.
“Boothill, look how fucking adorable this little guy is! You can take his clothes off!” You squeal, eagerly showing your findings to the cowboy, who in turn, smiles wearily.
“Yes, hon’. I know… you’ve pointed this out t’me more times than I can count. What’s so special ‘bout bein’ able to take off it’s clothes anyways? If ya wanted me to get naked, all ya had to do is jus’ ask!” He teases, suggestively tugging at his belt buckle. To his dismay, your attention quickly returns to the doll in your hands.
“Yeah yeah, but just look at the fella! He’s got paws!”
“Well, I mean… Them silicone pads on mah ten commandments kinda resemble the pads on a paw too.”
“The plushie can leave paw prints in the snow! I tried it!”
“You… wait, hol’ on just a sec’! When the fork did ya go someplace with snow?!”
“I got bored while you were away on your mission so I thought I’d go do some sightseeing with Minihill!”
“You… named it? Minihill?” Boothill wasn’t sure whether you’d either completely lost your marbles or his sound receptors were malfunctioning. It had been a while since he’d performed some proper maintenance on himself after all…
“Yeah! Minihill! You know… since it’s a mini version of you.”
“The lil’ fudgehead is only 20cm, sugar.”
“He barely reaches your calves, look!”
Boothill sighs and bites back the overwhelming urge to dropkick the stupid thing. It was stealing you away from him! Truly, a crime that he could never forgive.
Instead, he resigns himself temporarily to his fate and sits down beside you on the couch, an arm draped across your shoulders. At least the smile on your face made up for everything else. You looked so happy, gabbing on about your little escapades with Minihill.
“Oh! What was that for?” You blink in surprise, cheeks flushing over the kiss that had just been planted on your forehead.
“No reason. Ya jus’ look mighty adorable right now. Like a doll.”
“Oh, speaking of dolls…”
Boothill rolls his eyes in fond exasperation as you resume yapping his ear off about the charming (“How the fudge is a plushie s’posed to be charming?! It can’t speak!”) manners of Minihill. Really now, he was starting to reach his limit.
The worst of it came when it was time to retire to bed and get a good night’s rest. Boothill was all but ready to get under the covers, cuddle up with you and be lulled to sleep by the sound of your breathing. Instead…
“Why the fork is that lil’ shirtbag in our bed?!” Boothill eyes the plushie of him warily. Aeons above, he could feel his fingers twitching to grab it by its giant head and toss it out of the room.
“Why not? He’s so soft and squishy! He’s the perfect cuddle partner!”
“AND I AIN’T?!”
You roll your eyes at Boothill’s theatrics. Truth be told, you knew exactly what you were doing, being so overly affectionate with the plushie instead of the man himself. You just couldn’t help it! It was way too much fun, watching the cowboy try his darndest to act all nonchalant and uncaring when in reality, he was seething with jealousy. Over a plushie of him, no less!
“Oh come off it, dear. At least Minihill doesn’t sound like a damn motorcycle when snoring.”
“Low blow, darlin’. Real low. Y’know I can’t help it,”
“Then you’ll understand why I can’t help but spoil the little guy rotten, right?” You giggle quietly to yourself, watching Boothill curse under his breath.
“You lil’ forker… Y’know exactly what yer doin’, stealin’ my sweetheart away from me.”
“Boothill, please stop threatening Minihill with your gun.”
“I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”
“The poor thing is scared! Look at him! He’s shaking in his tiny boots!”
“It’s a plushie, for fork’s sake!”
You gasp dramatically, looking as scandalized as a Victorian man who’d just seen his wife flashing her ankles in the town square. Immediately, you clamp your hands down on either side of the plushie’s little ears, as if trying to stop it from hearing the “offensive” remarks that Boothill was making.
“How dare you! Minihill isn’t just a plushie! He’s an absolute treasure to society and a blessing from the aeons themselves!”
“I oughtta drag yer purdy lil’ ash to the nearest mental asylum- Wha-! Hey! How come that shirt-fer-brains gets so many goodnight kisses an’ I don’t?!”
“Because he deserves them unlike a certain someone.”
“Hey… c’mon now, sugar… ‘M right here…. Throw a dog a bone, please…” Boothill pouts, watching you pepper the plushie’s face in countless kisses before turning the lights off and going to sleep, plushie in arms and everything. Maybe he should’ve expected this. Maybe you were playing the long game and trying to teach him a lesson on just what happens when a cowboy ends up neglecting the love of his life for too long. They get stolen away by tiny plushies, that’s what.
As he watches you snuggle closer to him, pressing a sleepy little kiss to his cheek and mumbling something about how silly he was when he was jealous, Boothill sighs. Of course. Of fucking course you were getting a kick out of this. Perchance it was high time he got back at you. What was the saying again? Ah, right.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
–
“Why, butter my fudge an’ call me a biscuit! Ain’t you jus’ a pretty lil’ baby!”
Your ears perk up upon registering Boothill’s coos and you pop your head into the lounge. There, right there, sat the cowboy, cradling a plushie of… you?! No… surely not?
You shuffle closer, squinting at the doll that looked so comically tiny when engulfed in Boothill’s large, metal arms. It is! It really is a plushie of you! From the eyes all the way down to the clothes! You couldn’t believe your eyes.
“...Whatcha got there?”
“Oh, darlin’! Ya really opened my eyes to jus’ how forkin’ adorable these lil cutie fudgepies are!” Boothill enthusiastically shows you your plushie version. You clutch Minihill closer to your chest, scooting closer to the cowboy.
“See? I’m always right.”
“Mhm, ya sure are. I oughtta have listened to ya earlier! This lil’ cutie is so soft!”
You can’t help but frown, watching Boothill pepper the plushie’s face in kisses. Fuck. Getting a taste of your own medicine really wasn’t for the faint of heart.
“You… enjoying yourself over there?”
“Sure am, darlin’. Never been better. You?”
“Yeah… Minihill is lovely.”
“I can imagine.”
…
“Okay fine, you win!”
Boothill raises a brow and barks out a laugh. Well, that was fast. He should’ve thought of this earlier. He gently sets the plushie of you aside and tugs you onto his lap until you were straddling him.
“Yeah? Say it ain’t so.”
You glare at him. You toss Minihill so it lands beside the plushie version of you and grab Boothill by the jaw, crashing your lips against his. You feel the bastard grin before snaking his arms around your waist and eagerly kissing you back. He sure had missed this.
“So… what have we learned from this?” Boothill asks, a hint of teasing in his gruff voice. You sigh, still panting from the kiss. If there was one thing that no one, not even his plushie, could replicate, it was the exhilarating thrill and affection that his kisses always gave you.
“That a plushie can’t replace the real deal…”
“Yer darn right, it can’t. An’ fer the record, y’ain’t replaceable either. Them plushies are cute as fudge but they don’t hold a candle to you, sweetheart.”
“Mmn… I know. You looked very silly though, being all jealous over a doll.”
“Yeh, well you ain’t any better so shut it.”
…
“We should totally make our plushies have their own little wedding.”
“Sure, darlin’. Anything you want.”