Written In the Stars (Boothill x reader)

8

I was yanked from my sleep this morning, my phone's constant buzzing disrupting my dreams. I groggily unlock my phone and read a series of messages from an unknown number. 

Unknown 

-yo
-hey
-is this Y/n?
-reply
-now
-please?

This is Y/n. Who is this and what do you want? -

-Ah, darlin' did I wake you? 

Boothill? How'd you get my number?-

-lets not talk about that. Just making sure you're okay.

Why wouldn't I be okay?- 

-Well I infiltrated a branch of the IPC moments ago, found your records. There's some medical records but part of it was missing, anyway they're still after you since you escaped them last time you know.

I paused. Theyre still after me? After all these years? I rub my eyes and sit up, suddenly now interested in the conversation. 

Boothill

What do they want from me exactly?-

-they know we're connected. 

ok well what does that have to do with you if they're after me?-

-I hunt the executive members of the IPC. the one who's responsible for annihilating our home.

At that message my heart flutter and i frowned, how do i find that romantic even? I shake my head and read another message that he just sent. 

Boothill

-I'll come by tomorrow to talk about it with you. I know you like your sleep

-Good night sweet heart

I scoff and left him on read before turning off my phone and going back to sleep. I woke up the next morning to someone banging on my door. "what is it with people interupting my sleep." I grumble before throwing open the door, "what is it?" I groan to person. I look up and was startled to see Boothill in all his cyborg glory grinning down at me. 

I squeak and step back, "what're you doing here-" He ignores me and pushes past me into my apartment, slamming the door. "I told you I was comin' over love." He grumbled, looking me up and down. 

My cheeks heat up and I fold my arms over my chest, "w-well someone disturbed my sleep so sorry for sleeping in." He sighs, taking off his hat and resting it on my table before plopping down on my couch. Boothill was always tall, a big boy. As he sat, he made my apartment look tiny, the badges on his chest glittered in the light. Some light catching on his steel arm and reflecting onto the wall. 

He smirks, "you're droolin' darlin. C'mon, I knew you couldn'ta resist me." I scoff and turn away from him, "as if. You'll get your engine oil on my couch you asshat." He barks out some laughter, slapping his knee and leaning forward to rake his fingers through his hair. Oddly enough, it was attractive to me and I turned away from him. 

He leaned back after regaining his composure, resting his arm on the back of the couch and had his legs man-spread. His expression remaining smug, "don't worry sweetheart. I know I'm a looker, remember you could never take yer eyes off me when we first met too." I groan and stand across from him, "what did you want to talk about Boothill? I don't have time to entertain your small talk."