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daimyosprincess · 8 months ago

Text

THIS TENDER LOVE

—PAIRING: Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: When you’re a little nervous about your first time, Boba helps you get in the right headspace.

—WORD COUNT: 2.2k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, daimyo!Boba, virgin reader, implied age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, reader discovers a bit of her inner brat, some heartfelt feelings for good measure, lots of pet names per usual, Daddy kink strikes again (but only at the end)

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't usually write first times but bestie @baufraus inspired me to write about a certain princess getting shy and Boba's response. Daimyo Boba is so patient and daddy I can't imagine a better person to show you the ropes 😌

Divider by @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

You’d wanted this. You’d wanted this for so fucking long. Dreamed and wished for it.

So why can’t you just open the door and go out there?

Blinking against the clean light of the ‘fresher, you frown in the mirror. It’s not like you’re some blushing virgin who just discovered the place between her legs; you’d read and even watched plenty of things that had given you a chance to start learning what made you shake and moan. And although you’ve never done most of those things you fantasized about—much less had your first real kiss—you aren’t clueless about sex. You’re just a virgin, and Boba is just a man.

A man who dotes on you, protects you, and makes you laugh. The man you’ve fallen in love with. He’s been your whole life for the past seven months, ever since your uncle included you in his tribute to the new daimyo.

Your reflection sours at the memory of your despot relation. After you’d come of age, he got rid of you the second the chance presented itself, content to leave you at the mercy of the galaxy’s most feared bounty hunter. But Boba had been nothing like the stories the servants had whispered when they heard the news, nor had he been anything like your tyrant uncle.

No, he had been kind to you. Rough around the edges, but kind. You’d even begged him not to send you back to your planet when he informed your pilot that he didn’t keep slaves or girls in his palace. Even back then, sacred and naive, you’d felt you were in the presence of a true ruler, a man who gave his word and kept it. He swore he would never hurt you, never pressure you, or let any harm befall you and you believed him.

You still do.

So why are your feet frozen in place and the thought of going to him suddenly impossible? You’re a modest person by nature but this shock of shyness is more than you’re accustomed to, especially since you’d taken to sitting in Boba’s lap on the throne and wading in the garden pools in light dresses while he smiled at your joy.

“Princess?”

Would you be enough? Would he find your inexperience a burden?

He said he wouldn’t, that he was honored to be the one you trusted with your tender love. But that was before you couldn’t imagine showing your face or looking him in the eye.

“Sweetheart? Everything okay?” his deep voice calls from behind the ‘fresher door. A hint of worry tinges his tone. “It’s not too late to change your mind, little one. I won’t be upset. This is all about you and your comfort.”

You don’t want to change your mind. You want to experience every sweet, sinful thing he has to offer. You want to learn and taste your combined pleasures.

So why can’t you move?

Tears threaten to well in your eyes. “Boba?” your voice cracks. Tears do form now, hovering in your lashes in hot frustration.

His voice is just on the other side of the door now, thick with concern. “You want me to come in?”

“Yes,” you sniffle, dropping your face into your hands in stinging embarrassment when you hear the door slide open. Just this morning you’d been giggling and teasing, whispering in his ear on the throne how you couldn’t wait to become his—now you’re a tearful mess. Even if he doesn’t say as much, it’s surely pathetic to him. Why would a king waste his time with a sheltered princess when there are beautiful men and women whose hands and mouths already know the paths to pleasure?

His unarmored chest presses against your back and you instantly ease back into the circle of his arms, your safe and sacred space. Boba gently turns you inwards so your head can bury into his neck. You curl your fingers into the soft weave of his undershirt.

When you try to speak he shushes you with a small sound and a kiss to the top of your head. He rubs the small of your back until the tension drops from your shoulders and you slump your weight onto his.

“That’s it,” he murmurs into your hair. “Relax, babygirl.” A few heartbeats pass before his hand tilts your chin up from his shoulder. “How about we just curl up tonight? Watch one of your holos?”

A thread of urgent fire lights down your spine. “No!” Boba’s brows shoot up and you wince at your echo bouncing off the walls. “I mean, no. I want to… tonight, with you. I just…” Heat blooms in your cheeks, your previous shyness taking over once more.

You try to return your face to your hands but Boba catches your wrists in a loose hold at your sides. His warm eyes flicker with first a thought, then a decision.

Bona leans slowly into your space, drawing out the small movement to allow you to pull away. When you remain in place, sweet and curious, he presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. The feel of him surrounding you, his warm smell, the feel of his strength just below his skin acts like a drug, overwhelming your senses and unfurling your desire like the first soft blooms of spring. He tends to you, encouraging your blossoming by leading your arms over his shoulders and dragging his tongue along the smooth seam of your lips.

His breathing deepens as you slide your palms over his wide shoulders, up his neck to pull him further into you. The heavy sound drips down your body in a sweet trail to your dampening core, the pant of his breath tickling your eyelashes and hairline. You had imagined what a kiss, a real kiss, would be like a thousand times. How your lover’s mouth might feel moving on yours, how your hands might roam and grab, the crushed feel of fabric and limbs seeking skin.

Yet kissing Boba is nothing like that.

Just as dreams are mere imitations of true sensation, kissing Boba Fett is nothing like you imagined—it’s so much more. Swirls of color that materialize into touch, sounds that brush against hot skin, and the humbling reminder that you are all too human and so is he. It’s mortal and frightening and perfect. You want to open up your chest and let him in, let him taste every part of you so you can exist within someone else.

Isn’t that what people crave? What they die for?

“Princess…”

The scraped restraint in the daimyo’s voice flickers in your belly. You wanted this, dreamed and wished for it. If you pull away now, you’ll lose it to the stifling swell of bashfulness dammed behind your kiss. You chase his retreating lips until he stalls you with a large hand on your jaw. “Easy, little one,” he soothes with a brush of his thumb over your cheek. “There’s no need to rush.”

“But I-”

“Want it?” He flashes you a white-toothed grin that has butterflies flittering through your insides. You can’t hide your face like this, so you scrunch up your toes and dig your nails into his shirt. He chuckles and kisses the tip of your nose. “Don’t even think about hiding those pretty eyes,” he gives a quick squeeze to your jaw, “keep them on me.”

Oh, the irony of having a staring problem and suddenly being unable to look at the handsome man in your arms.

Dragging your eyes up his face, you take in every dip and crease of his bronze features, remembering how the bow of his lips and how the texture of his scars felt against your soft skin. The same skin that now feels too hot and tight. When you eventually light on his eyes, they crinkle up in another bright smile. It almost makes you squint. “They were on you,” you mumble into his silence.

“What was that?” The firm way Boba’s other hand snakes around your waist has you swallowing back the sass you were about to give him.

Where is that coming from?

“I-I said they were on you.”

Something dark shifts in his gaze. Something that makes you clench on your emptiness. He considers you for a couple more seconds, his head cocking to one side like the many times you’d seen him on the throne with his subjects. Deciding.

When you start to squirm under his gaze, his lips quirk into a pleased expression. “You never cease to surprise me, little one.” Seeing your confused look, he continues. “You’ve got some brat in you... I like it. You stopped being so self-conscious when you ran that smart mouth.”

You suppose you had. Although you aren’t usually one to push back or act out—it was quickly punished in your uncle’s house—it did feel good to let the scrap of sass slip. Made you feel a tiny bit more powerful, more evenly matched with Boba’s strength and confidence. You test your next words on your tongue before you fire them.

“Then show me how much you like it?” you try.

Boba’s smile turns sharp, more hungry. “One kriffing kiss and she’s already getting greedy.”

You gasp when you feel the grind of his hardening bulge on your hip. He shifts you against him so he’s pressed against your center, rocking his hips to give you some friction. This time your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, the warm stretch of soaked fabric between your thighs catching on your clit with delicious effect.

“Not so shy now, are you, babygirl?” Boba hums low in your ear, gently sinking his teeth into your pulse point. “Just needed a little help from, Daddy, huh?”

A white-hot streak of embarrassment scores through your chest, charring your fledgling sense of bravery. Your pulse throbs in your pussy. Now you have a very different reason to be shy: you’d never told him those secret desires you came to in your bed but he knew them all the same.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he moans into your love-bitten flesh when you involuntarily buck against him. “Knew you liked me but are you really that desperate for an old man?”

“D-don’t be mean-”

You cry out when his hand presses between your bodies to cup your sex.

“Mmm I think you like it when I’m mean.” He grinds his palm against your clit and your knees buckle at the dizzying sparks of pleasure. “I also think your little cunt is dripping wet because you want to call me Daddy.”

The choked sound you make doesn’t hide the way your body reacts to his words. You shove your face into his shirt. “I never said that,” you grumble into the fabric. But you dreamed about it, worked yourself up and touched yourself to the thought of it.

“No?”

Boba retracts his hand and you almost cry from the loss. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking and smug at your desperation, his teasing dominance playing on every one of your desires. Everything that burns you up only seems to fuel him more.

“No, please-”

“Aw, baby, you want it bad, don’t you?” His hand comes back up to your face and you can smell your arousal on his fingers. He tips back your chin, his thumb pressing against your trembling lips. His eyes sweep over you, taking in the way you’re as downy and vulnerable as fawn before a wolf, and they soften.

Boba strokes your bottom lip gently, a small smile turning up his mouth. The crackle of electricity in the air dulls to a pleasant thrum. “You really are beautiful,” he breathes, his voice awed. Sensing your growing need, he presses his thumb into your mouth, his cock twitching against your stomach when you suck it happily.

“It really isn’t too late if you want to wait,” he reminds you. He chuckles when you shake your head rapidly back and forth, this calloused thumb sliding across your tongue. Smiling, he removes his hand and rests his lips on your forehead. “It’s an honor, you know. To be the one you trust with this.”

As if it could have ever been someone else. Even before you came to Tatooine, it was never going to be anyone but Boba. You’d never had the desire to share your intimacy with another person until him.

“It was always you,” you whisper. It’s not a secret, but it is something precious.

Boba buries his face into your hair, pressing you so tight to him you could melt into one. “I… I love you.”

Those three words hold a tender softness you know does not come easy to his surface. It fills you with a sweet kind of strength.

Loosening your hold on his neck, you draw back far enough to take in his beautiful face. “I love you, Boba. I want this. Want you.” He radiates pure joy at your confirmation, as bright and golden as the twin suns above. Leaning in, you hover your lips just over his ear. “Now, Daddy please-”

You don’t even have time to squeal before he tosses you over his shoulder for the bedroom.

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saradika · 1 year ago

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— JUST A TASTE

[bleed for me masterlist] | [fic preview]

vampire!boba fett x f!reader

rated e - 8k

tags: vampire!au, blood/blood drinking, vampirism, longing and pining, biting, masturbation, chosen mates (instead of fated mates), teasing, fingering, brief edging, mind-meld, implied aphrodisiacs, piv, marking

a/n: I thought it would be fun to write a halloween one-shot for Boba, in the same world as bleed for me. This is with a different Reader, so there are some references to the series, but you don't have to read to enjoy!

When Fennec Shand appears in town with her new red eyes, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before the Daimyo will be seeking a new Companion.

Luckily, you think you know just how to make sure he picks you.

Heat still lingers in your neck, your cheeks, as you slip from your tiny cottage to rush to the town square.

Cursing yourself for almost being late to the ceremony - a long table already in place within the old tavern, moved to the middle of the room. The old wood and stone ceiling blocking out the setting sun, making it safe.

He’s there. Your eyes find him right away - all that green against the shades of brown and grey.

The Daimyo.

Positioned at the head of the table, that helmet fixed in place. Looking like a ruler with the way he sits - so strong and straight-backed in the velvet chair, brought out just for him. It sends a shiver up your spine as you slip to the back, to give your own offering.

A small goblet, brought from home. The carvings in the wood smooth, burnished from the press of your fingers over the years. Curving petals worn down at the edges - traced over with your thumb, again and again.

It’s dull, next to all the gold and glass. The candles glinting off the gifts that line the long table - an ache still throbbing in the crook of your elbow, as yours joins the flight of others.

It's warm, in the tavern. Fuller than you've ever seen - bodies packed together. Your back presses against the thick wooden wall, standing on tip-toe to see over the pair in front of you.

Wanting to watch when that helmet lifts.

The tanned skin beneath, those red eyes that flicker in the candlelight. It's a rarity to see him this bare. Something precious that you tuck away, as your eyes rove over every detail.

You think he must be starving, from the dark shadows under his eyes. You can count back two months as to when Lady Shand had stopped walking through the marketplace in the day. Appearing again in her oil-blackened armor - a new, deadly quiet about her.

Everyone had known she would turn.

It had only been a matter of time.

Secrets were hard to keep, in a town as small as this.

You still had some. Others had theirs. Most you did not care about, but when it came to the coven of vampires, in their looming castle at the top of the tall hill - it had always been a fascination.

How beautiful - how benevolent - they are.

A hush settles over the crowd, as the first cup is lifted. Restraint shown in the tip of the glass, the single bobbing swallow of his throat as he drinks.

He could gorge. He could swallow every drop, but there's a carefulness in the way he moves.

Continuing the old tradition of the town - one that the Mand'alor had not followed. But after hearing of his searching - the path that had been so set for him - none of you could begrudge his choice.

The first goblet is placed back down.

His methods are unknown - he had arrived at the castle with Lady Shand by his side, already his Companion.

Would taste from each one?

Or stop, if one is pleasing to him?

Your odds are not in your favor, with the amount of offerings. Nothing stands out about your goblet - you had no gold, no bronze. Only an heirloom and yourself.

Fifth from the end, of a line of people who all had their own reasons to want to uproot their lives. Fortune. Pleasure. Running to something, or running from.

But did any of them see him for who he was? Like you did?

You don’t really care that he was a Daimyo, not really.

He could be anyone - a lesser lord. A commoner, like yourself.

Your wishes would stay the same.

It was what he had done, that had made Boba Fett a fixture in your mind.

To him, perhaps it had been a small thing.

Not worth remembering, in the life of someone who has lived for so long, with such experiences. Barely a blip, compared to the stories you'd heard.

Bounty Hunting and Rancors and Sarlaacs.

But to you, it had meant everything.

He had saved you.

Not in such a way as the Mand'alor had done for his Queen. That sort of saving would be written in song or word, someday, with the way the story was whispered in the streets.

There had been no witches, no fated meetings. No burned towns for Lord Fett to pull you from, to whisk you away to safety. No enemies torn apart, in revenge.

But it had been no less chivalrous.

It had been early in the day, and luckily so. Mid-morning and he would not have been out, not with what he was.

A few weeks into Spring, when your little stall in the market should have been blooming with your home-grown flowers, baskets of vegetables from your leased garden.

A late frost and a family of hungry rabbits had you far behind. On goods to sell and your payment for your use of the space. The few coins you had from the week before clutched in your fist as Lord Gorian Shard had loomed over you, demanding more than what you could spare.

Cutting down your promises to pay him back, if you could just have another week - a day, even. Deaf to your pleas.

You knew what you owed, but it hadn't been fair. Everyone knew he charged far too much for his stalls. But you had been desperate then, almost as much as you had been now.

A shadow had loomed, as every last silver and copper had been shaken from your coin purse. Tucked away into deep pockets, the pitiful amount added to what he already carried.

"Is there an issue here, Shard?"

The voice had cut through the morning haze was one you thought of often, the low timber. Slicing, like a knife.

You're sure you looked pathetic. Shard's hand gripping your forearm, pinching. The half-filled stall, the dust covering your tunic - swiped across your forehead from the back of your hand, while setting up.

But, the grip had loosened. And for the first time, the Merchant had lost some of his aloof, elitist air. A flash of worry crossing his features, as a Mandalorian had approached from the shadows.

His face had been covered, since dawn had broken - but there had been no mistaking him.

Boba Fett.

"No issue, my lord." Gorian Shard had smiled, his voice changing from the sharp tone he had used with you, "Just business, I assure you. Far too small for someone as busy as yourself, I'm sure."

There was a rough buzz from the helmet, the sound of a hum.

"How much more is owed?"

It became clear he had been listening. You hadn't looked to the shadows, and your heart had sunk. Embarrassment creeping around you, tightening like vines around your ribs.

“Fifty more gold." Shard had sniffed, making a show of checking his pockets.

Another hum, "A little early to be collecting payments, isn't? The quarter isn't for another month."

Shard had frowned, "I collect monthly, thank you."

Silence lingered then, for a moment too long. That worn green helmet flicked you way - your eyes only able to hold it for a moment, before they dropped. Examining the worn toes of your boots, wondering what he must think of you.

"Give us a moment."

You had thought he meant you - getting ready to step away, to give them some space.

Not expecting the helmet to snap towards the Merchant, as another order was growled out, "Did you not hear me, Shard?"

He had been too happy to oblige, quickly finding another debtor three stalls over.

You had also not expected the soft pouch of leather to be held out, pressed into your hands from Lord Fett's own belt.

Far heavier than your own, and you had immediately found the strength to meet his gaze again - to hand the gift back.

"I can't accept this." You had protested, "It is far too much, I can't pay this back."

He had considered you, for a long moment. You had wished you could see his face - your own reflected back at you. Pinched and worried and tired.

Pivoting gracefully, as he turned to look at your stall, "If you will not accept my help, then I wish to purchase your stock. Everything you have."

It's an out, for you. Another gift, a way to accept with what little dignity you had left intact.

Even if you were both aware that he had no use for your ware. That vampires did not dine on the food of humans. That the kitchens within the castle were already stocked with the finest goods available.

The gold had been offered, again. His voice low - almost gentle.

"Please do me this honor, my lady."

This bit of kindness, his voice, his honorifics - as if your presence had meant something, as if he truly considered this a favor to him - had stunned you. Enough that you had allowed him to press the pouch into your hand.

Enough that you had allowed the woman that had stepped to his side to pack up the flowers, the vegetables. Every single piece until your stall was as empty as it was, when you had arrived that morning.

Shard had watched, with narrowed eyes.

But - your debt had been paid. This month, and then the next. And then the next.

You began to look forward to his visits. Not for the gold, of course, but for him. The snippets of conversation - the solemn way he checked on you, the low timbre of his voice.

“Have you been treated well?”

“Is this enough?”

You’re sure you had looked foolish. Ankles crossing as you leaned across the booth. Trying to hide your smile but failing, as you protested. A game, you had played.

Always the same questions, the same answers.

“I can’t stop you from buying my wares… but I don’t want a copper more, my Lord.”

His fingers tapping twice on the wooden stall, before his reply.

“As you wish.”

Boba's kindness had changed your life.

The coin used to buy better seeds. Your little, rented home slowly filling out with warm bedding and good food and sturdy clothes - things you had always scrambled to find. Luxuries, before now.

And for a while, you had entertained the thought of leaving town. Saving up every gold piece, starting a new life.

You almost had enough.

But that had been before Lady Shand had turned. Before the rumors had spread that Boba Fett would be seeking a new Companion.

Your heart had twisted, with the news.

Jealousy. Longing.

It could be you.

He had become a fixture in your mind. Your evenings filled with daydreams. Keeping you company as you worked, dirt caking under your fingernails, as you imagined another life.

You could pay him back, in a ways. Show him how grateful you were, offering your blood - yourself - in exchange. You never would have dared hope before but this… this was worth trying, wasn’t it?

So, you did something risky.

Hoping it would pay off.

Hoping that perhaps… your feelings were not so singular.

It feels like you're holding your breath, as Boba moves down the table. Those cups handed over so carefully. That same, single taste from each one.

There's a tick of his jaw, at some. A pink peek of tongue dragging over a lower lip. No tells in his expression, no indication on where his mind leads.

And then, finally - he's at yours.

The wooden goblet hefted in his hand, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the etchings, like yours always did. Your fingernails biting into your palms, your heart pounding in your ears, an ache settling low in your belly - much like the one before, as you had been preparing.

And with the tip of a hand, he drinks.

The goblet lowers, as he swallows. A waver of his hand, as makes to set it back down to rejoin the others.

But then.... he pauses.

A lift of his brow, a slow tilt back - as he indulges in a second.

Before his eyes are sweeping across the room. Halting, when they find yours. The smallest lift of his lips, with his look of knowing.

Your cheeks burn, as he chooses you.

Everything happens so quickly.

Before you know it, you’re hoisted into a horse - whisked off to the castle that looms at the top of the hill. A promise to bring your things to you, though you’re sure it would take less than a wagonful.

Barely able to glance down the long halls, the ornate, stained glass windows, before there’s a hand at your elbow, guiding you.

A woman, younger than you. Quelling some of the unease at being in a new place with her gentle tone, as she takes you deep into the castle - up a wide stone staircase, through an ornate wooden door, and into a room.

It doesn’t appear to be his room, and you don’t know if you’re relieved or disappointed.

Bathed in shades of green and red and gold. Dark velvet curtains against the closed windows, blocking out the last rays of the sun.

Your guide parts from you here, a murmur that the ceremony will begin at sundown - that she will be back then to help you get ready.

Leaving you on your own to explore the space, until then.

A tall bed takes up the middle of the back wall, the frame a dark, carved wood. Thick blankets in tones of ivory and a rich forest green, lit candles on the wooden tables on either side.

There’s long wardrobe against the wall, the mirror glinting in the light. A ceramic vase painted with swirls of copper, roses and wildflowers spilling over the brim.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that some of the flowers almost looked familiar.

A door is half-opened to the left, next to the fireplace, the velvet chaise sitting in front of it. Already a thought lingers about how cozy the space will be in the winter, as you pad over to glance into the next room.

It’s all ceramic tile inside, opening up to a bathroom, The claw-foot copper tub filling with steaming water, and you long to slip into it, to wash the morning’s dirt from your knees.

And so, you do.

Your stripped clothes lie in a pile on the floor. A pleased hiss as you step into the water, the temperature tipping towards too hot. Sinking deep, up to your chin, as your head tips back against the rim.

It gives you time to think, as you all but float in the water.

Giddy, at the replay of the afternoon. That it had worked.

The way he had gone back, an indulgence. He had liked it - the taste of you - and that thought was thrilling.

A warmth settling in your bones, that had nothing to do with the water.

Picking apart the look in his eyes, where you felt certain he had been searching for you. It leaves you confident that your feelings had not changed.

The water is cold and you’re scrubbed clean by the time you leave. Lotions found on the countertop smoothed into your skin, the tired joints of your knuckles.

Fingers trace over the rack of robes you find next to the door. Soft silks and thick cotton and gauzy, see-through chiffon. Your cheeks burn at the thought, as you pull one out to hold it against you.

Imaging the red fabric against your skin. How little of you it would hide, in spite of it swishing around your ankles.

Eventually, you settle on something between the two - modest enough that you won’t be embarrassed to see your guide again.

Intentionally choosing something that reminds you of him - shades of green with thin, gold trim. The tie knotted carefully around your waist, skimming your thighs. The sleeves gathered at your forearms, the silky feeling luxurious against your scrubbed skin.

By the time you make it back to the bedroom, the edges around the curtains are dark - the sun long set. The blankets soft - the mattress dipping as you sit down on the edge, still taking in the room.

A knock comes, soon after. The gentle rapping of knuckles against the door - heavy as you pull it open.

Something flipping low in your belly, when you see your visitor.

Not the pleasant girl, who had chattered as she guided you up the steps. Smiling, as she bid you farewell.

It’s him.

Boba lingers outside your door, so unlike you’ve ever seen before. Clothed in black robes, his Beskar chest plate fitted on top. Your eyes follow down, seeing gloves and gauntlets, but no helmet - before you realize you’re staring. Your gaze quickly snapping up to his, already caught.

There’s a twitch of his lips. His own eyes wandering, though you missed them in your own exploration.

His voice low, amused as he asks, “May I come in?”

Heat licks at your skin as you nod - nerves skittering down your spine, at this unexpected development. Stepping back to allow him inside.

Ending up at the end of the bed again, your palms pressing into the bedspread to keep you from fidgeting.

“Is this room to your liking?” Boba asks, conversationally.

So casually, so pleasantly, that you’re frowning. Confused at his appearance. Assuming that he had come to feed - that he’d grown tired of waiting, his patience now thin.

“It’s beautiful,” You answer, honestly. Far finer than any room you’d seen before. The bath already feels like a dream, even though the perfume still lingers in your skin, “You are again too generous.”

“It is my pleasure.” His voice is low, his hands bracing against the chaise he stands behind, “By far the least I can do.”

A nod to your new situation. This new connection, binding you together. You knew about the ritual in the tavern, from the whispers from the Companions that visited your stall.

Flowers woven into their hair as they gossiped, your eager ears picking up everything you could.

But this, now, was unknown to you.

Was he just getting to know you? Or was there another step you were missing?

“Thank you, Lord Fett,” You smile. Fingers pinching at the blanket, gathering your nerves. A breath, before you can ask, “Are we… are we to begin now? I was told there would another ceremony.”

“Just Boba, please.” He clarifies, after a beat of silence - those dark eyes still fixed on you. That eye contact still holding, as his head tilts, “And yes, there is a ritual. When conducted, it takes place in front of the coven.”

It’s not an unpleasant thought. There’s something primal about such a ritual - the thought of him claiming you in front of his friends and peers.

Images leap to your mind, unbidden. Your imagining of the throne room, filled to the brim. Gathered up in his arms, the expanse of your neck appears as he dips you. Baring legs, baring arms, baring throat.

The flash of teeth, as they sink into your skin-

It takes another second, before you can gather your thoughts. Clearing your throat, as you ask, “Is that what you wish?”

“That would depend.” His steps are slow, as he rounds the chaise. Hands clasped behind his back, the green armor accentuating his broad chest.

“On?”

There’s the flash of teeth as he smiles, “On if you’re planning on changing.”

Heat flares in your cheeks, at the thought of your appearance. Acutely aware of the single layer that covers you, just a loose knot keeping the robe in place.

Is Boba Fett flirting with me?

Before you can answer, his head turns, “This ritual is more symbolic than binding. Any true decisions are made behind doors. We can continue here, if you’d like.”

You nod slowly. The thought of having him to yourself appealing, especially for the first night. A twinge of worry about the feeding - the crook of your arm still tender from where you were pricked to fill the goblet.

Not wanting to appear weak. Not wanting your desires to be laid out, exposed in front of everyone.

“I would not mind that.” You confess, “What kind of decisions do you mean?”

“There are many we can discuss.” His look turns thoughtful, “For one, your stall. If it is gold that brought you here, I would purchase it from Shard for you. You need not do this.”

That makes you blink - the offer kind. An unexpected, altruistic turn.

“No. That’s not why.” Your head shakes, “I’m here on my own. I wanted to-”

Your words cut off, afraid to say too much. A breath, before you add, “I have little other ties here. It was not the stall that brought me to the tavern."

Something in his face changes, a softening to that ever-steady mark between his brows. Those hands still clasped, as if stilling them, as he moves closer, “Are you not bound to another, ad’ika?”

“Do you mean a soulmate?” The question makes you blink - a little frown forming.

There were no marks on your skin. No ties to another, painted where their body had first touched yours.

You could find out. You want to joke, but it stays trapped on your tongue. A moment, before you shake your head.

“No.” A small breath, as you steel yourself, “I don’t believe in them.”

His expression flickers now - you’ve caught him off guard.

“You don’t believe? The Mand’alor has often walked the town streets with his. Do you doubt their connection?”

Curiosity tinges his words, and your head shakes again, “They were lucky, I think. And I think fate works for some. Just… not me.”

It’s as honest as you’ve ever been. Maybe he’ll laugh at you… but just maybe - he’ll understand.

Perhaps it had been luck that morning, when he found you. But fate hadn’t made him kind.

That had been all him.

And perhaps luck had also turned Lady Shand before you left - but it was you who had gone to the Tavern, goblet in hand. You who had leaned into his visits, tucking away each one.

“I’d like to think that I make my own decisions. That my own choices determine my path.”

“And is that what you’ve done?” He rasps, his eyes dark, “Made your choice?”

Your breath hitches at his tone, smooth and low. Managing a short, little nod in answer - not trusting ability to keep your voice level.

“Not all bonding is mates, little one.” He’s closer now. Enough that you can see the fine weave of his robes - the chips in his armor where a sword had peeled away the paint, “You know that, right?”

Your heart pounds in your ears - ignoring his question, as you manage to ask your own, “What do you want?”

His head cocks, the candlelight catching his eyes. That burgundy shimmer darkening. You find yourself holding your breath as you wait for his answer. Watching the way his lips pull in a smile, revealing the sharp points of his teeth.

“Oh, what do I want?” He repeats, slowly, softly. “I want you to show me what you did to make your blood so sweet.”

His voice drops then, as he moves closer, “And then I want to taste you for myself.”

Your breath comes in a ragged gasp. He knew?

The whispered rumor about making your blood near irresistible had been trusted, but you never thought he’s be able to tell.

His laugh is soft, “Are you getting shy on me now, sarad?”

Heat licks at you, embarrassment and desire swirling together into a heady combo. Your thoughts slipping between your teeth on their own, “How did you…”

Boba clucks his tongue, “It’s been a while, little one. But not that long.”

That snags in your mind, your attention shifting. You frown, fingers twisting around the silk ties of your robe, “What do you mean?”

His eyebrow lifts.

There were rumors that Lord Fett and the now Lady Shand were not romantically linked. But it had never been confirmed, and part of you had worried you were going to end up in a precarious position.

Not that you minded sharing.

“You’re stalling.” He chides again, “If I misunderstood, then-”

“You didn’t.” You’re quick to correct, the band of silk pinching around your fingers, “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

His lips quirk at your answer, your boldness. An arm braces on the foot post of the canopy bed, close enough that your thigh brushes his hip.

“It has been a decade since I’ve drank from the throat of a creature as lovely as you.” His hand lifts, the back of his knuckle brushing against your neck.

No mark blooms under his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t need one to want him, or to love him. All you need is your heart - beating so fiercely, as that knuckle drags down to the hollow of your throat.

His fingers unfurling until the tips drag against your sternum, as your heart drops to beat between your thighs.

In a moment of bravery, your fingers tug on the tie. The knot loosing, and then pooling around your hips as the edges of your robe part, falling open.

His eyes follow, tracing your curves as they come into view. The rich fabric like a caress against your bare skin as you shift further back on the bed. Legs uncrossing as he steps between them - forcing them to nudge wider.

Heat pools in your belly, with his proximity. The knowledge that he truly intends to watch - close enough that his fingers could brush your skin, with how he bends - pressing his palms against the mattress.

Framing your thighs, as you lower yourself to your elbows. Nearly on display, the fabric still bunching at your waist, keeping you hidden.

If you hadn’t thought about him so often, perhaps you’d be a little more shy. But there was something so intoxicating about this. So honest and earnest in his tone - making you believe that because he said it so, he truly wanted to see you.

And you wouldn’t deny your Lord of anything.

Your eyes flip up to his, watching how he waits. Those hands still pressed flush, as his eyes rake over your form - an attempt to keep his hands from wandering.

But yours are not to tied down. Yours drift - trailing along the soft green hem. Down, towards the valley between your breasts.

It has you wondering if he can hear the way your heart kicks up a notch. At your touch, your intentions.

You think he must, with the way he shifts between your thighs, waiting.

The silky fabric pebbles at the tight peaks of your breasts. Soft as your fingertips run across them - a creak of his leather gloves with your soft sigh, as his fingers curl into the bedspread.

His eyes darker still, as you let your robe part further. Knuckles pinching, dragging over bare skin before drifting towards your navel. An urge to press your thighs together, an ache at the thought of things to come. At his words, already given.

There’s a rough noise, something gritted out that you miss, when the robe parts fully. When Boba can see you fully, his eyes dropping to where you’re slick already. Swollen and soft and warm, a pink tongue peeking out between sharp teeth at the sight.

A half-formed thought to tease - fingers parting yourself open. Your strokes slow, to dip slowly into your heat.

But it feels impossible to do so, with him watching. The second you slip against your skin, you’re sighing - quick to press and circle, your hips jolting into your touch.

He knows it’s for him. You can’t even pretend you’re still wet from before - those hours and that long, warm bath passing between then and now.

No, it’s his words. His voice, those suggestions.

Him.

From this angle he can surely see how you shine already. Knees pressing into his hips as your muscles clench, toes curling.

Can he see how your pulse thuds? How your blood races down, to where you ache?

The press of your fingers makes you whine, eyes taking in the expanse of his chest. Flicking down to where his hand rotates, gloved fingers touching down on the bed - moving to press against the curve of your thigh.

He watches your fingers, the way they press. Memorizing what makes your muscles clench, the soft sounds of your sighs.

You want his hands on you - to feel the strength of them for yourself. Molding you into his image, to touch you however he wishes.

To take you, as he tastes you.

It has your leg pressing into his touch, teeth biting into your tongue to keep you from begging.

“You want something.” His voice is soft, his eyes unreadable, “I can feel it, radiating from you.”

The air hisses through your teeth, sparks of pleasure pulsing where your fingers press. Slowing and stuttering at his words.

“You,” The word is sighed out, your eyes meeting his dark ones, “I want you.”

He smiles then, and it’s almost cruel. Teasing.

His hands curving around your thighs, moving slowly against your skin. Up until his thumbs are brushing against your inner thighs, nudging them wider apart.

“You managed just fine, before.” There’s a lilt to his voice, the raise of an eyebrow, “Or did you have some help?”

Your fingers slow as your brows knit, distracted by his question. How his fingers bump against yours, so close to where you burn - but still not touching.

“No,” Your head shakes, “I didn’t.”

I just thought of you, you want to tell him. I thought about this.

“Good.” He husks, and his hands leave you. A little whine slipping past your lips as he brings a hand to his mouth - using his teeth to rip the gloves from his fingers, “I only want your blood singing for me.”

It makes you clench, lips parting just in him for him to arch over you - a bare hand flattening against the bed near your ear. The other dipping between your lips when they part for him, sliding past blunt teeth.

You groan around him, cool and solid as they slip across your tongue. His eyes growing darker as your lips close around to suck, his thumb stroking the underside of your chin.

It’s bliss. Your mouth so beautifully full and busy as your fingers work, aiding your steady ascent towards euphoria.

All too soon they slide from you, leaving your lips glossy. Trailing down your chin, before dropping to fit between your thighs.

He didn’t need to, you’re already so wet. The tip of index finger slipping beneath yours, teasing at your opening. Sliding into you easily as you arch into his touch, feeling the fullness of having him in you. Already a bit of a stretch, and you squirm at the thought of more.

“So warm and wet.” His tone is almost reverent, his eyes dropping to your mouth, “I’d almost forgotten.”

Watching how you pant as his finger plunges deep, the pull of your brow as he slips from you, only to fit two inside with his next thrust.

Angling his wrist so he can curl them inside you, stroking against slick walls - finding a place that had your breath coming in a ragged gasp.

You’re close already. It had been easy, with him so close. Looking at you so hungrily, as you brought yourself closer. The feel of his fingers, filling and stroking you, teasing against that spot, has your muscles winding tight.

Boba shifts, leaning back. The hand pressing against the bed moves to wrap around your wrist, halting the needy circle of your fingers.

Your mounting pleasure plateaus, a frustrated sound in your throat. His fingers still fucking you, but that sharp edge slips from your grasp.

“Slower.” He rasps, pinning your hand down. Only allowing the tips of your fingers to each, “Need to get you ready for me. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You moan - automatically, without thought.

The thought makes you tighten around his, squeezing his fingers. His smile pulls to show sharp teeth, the slick slap of his fingers loud where they press into your pussy.

“Gods, I can feel you. Do you want it that bad, ad’ika?”

Your mind swirls, the weight of your tongue making it impossible to answer. Even with the tiny flick of your fingers, you can feel the pleasure in your belly start to crackle and burn.

That pressure increasing, each breath no more than a high gasp. Your vision starting to grow blurry, eyes heavy with lust, all of your concentration focused on the sweet spot between your thighs.

His name is torn from your throat, as you come when three fingers fit inside you. Crooking and stroking against your walls as you bear down around them, as he can feel how you pulse.

It drowns out your pleasure from before - hurried movements in the privacy of your home. You’re alight now - basking in the low hum of his words. Blurring at the edges, slipping through your fingers.

Fuck, that’s it.

My sarad, bloom for me.

Can’t wait to taste you.

The hand lets go to press against your hip, pinning you down. Making you take the steady pump of his fingers, as he draws it out.

“You can. Can taste me-” You gasp, your own fingers now still. A twinge that tips towards too much, as you grasp at his wrist. His hand staying buried in you, as his other curls around the back of your neck.

You brace for the bite, as your head tilts to offer your throat. Know it was coming from the start - eager to offer yourself in every way you could.

Not expecting the way he leans over you again. The ghost of warm breath before the press of his mouth against your pulse. Inhaling your scent as your heart flutters in your throat, the haze of your orgasm settling over you.

A rough sound as you moan, as he moves higher. Teeth nipping at your jaw. Realization swirling as there’s the hungry press of his mouth against yours - your own hands scraping across armor, grasping at his robes.

Curling around his shoulder to hold him to you, as you melt further. His lips are soft - yours are already parted, welcoming the dip of his tongue. Your legs hitching around his waist as his weight presses into you.

It’s comforting. It’s enveloping - your sigh swallowed as his hand slips from you. Pulling back from your mouth, as your head rising to chase after him.

Meeting those fingers instead - slick with your release, pressing against your lower lip. His own tongue swirling against one, as you share the others.

Your teeth graze, bite down on his fingers. His groan low as mouths meet again - with your taste on his tongue, with his hips pressing down against yours. Grinding himself against your bare skin, where you can feel the hard curve of his arousal.

“See how good you taste?” He rasps, lips brushing your cheek. “Fuck, can’t get enough.”

His arm curls around your waist, slick fingers shoving between mattress and your back. Lifting you like you’re nothing, with his enhanced strength. A flip in your belly and a little yelp, before you’re set back down.

Boba’s back rests against the ornate headboard. Your thighs spread wide around his waist, straddling him. The soft robe you wear dips down across your back, the fabric nestled in the crook of your elbows.

Hands splay across his chest, cool skin and hard muscle beneath. His eyes on the expanse of your skin - the slope from your neck, to your bare breasts beneath. That hand anchoring the back of your neck again, thumb sweeping the soft spot beneath your ear.

His eyes burn. Glittering embers in their depth, the sharp points of his teeth showing between parted lips. Something inside you stirs - know deep down that he truly means to taste you now.

To drink from you, as your head tilts back to offer the soft skin of your throat.

“It will hurt, a little.” He warns, voice low. Rough, as if he’s holding himself back, “But I’ll make you feel good. I promise, mesh’la.”

Your fingers twist in his robes. Eyes fluttering shut, as you wait for it to come.

But he has one last request, an edge to his voice that that fixes your attention.

“Keep your eyes open for me.”

It’s your last warning, before he’s leaning forward. The soft brush of his lips against your jugular, before he’s biting down.

There’s twin pinches, as your skin gives beneath his teeth. A burning throb as you gasp - unable to help the way you flinch, stiffening in his arms.

He groans against your neck as you flood his tongue, and there’s the sensation of pulling, the soft suck of his mouth.

But the pain does not linger. It soon bleeds into something more, that sharp edge twisting and transforming. That thudding in your neck tipping downwards. Past your chest, past your belly.

Nestling between your thighs with a very different kind of ache. One that has you shifting against him, the roll of your hips as he keeps you pinned with his teeth.

The robes he wears are thin. Not ones that go beneath his armor during the day, or to travel. Soft and fine as your fingers curl into the fabric at his shoulders.

Not at all concealing his need for you, something that stretches deeper than the urge to drink. Boba is stiff beneath you, his hardness trapped beneath the layers of cloth and your bare cunt.

Each squirm presses him against you. Something flickering in your mind, a sort of mirror to your pleasure. It feels like it strings out, wrapping around your limbs, tethering you together.

His teeth unlatch, when you reach down. A desire from deep inside to touch him, fingers sliding against fabric. Dampened from you, from the slide of your hips, the way you feel like you will burst, if he’s not inside you.

“Taste so godsdamn sweet.” He groans, tongue tracing over the marks on your neck. Where the blood still beads out, sweetened by your orgasm, “Knew it was yours, the moment it touched my tongue.”

Pulling back, to bring his mouth to yours again. He tastes like iron, like you - as your hand curls around him. Achingly hard under your touch, as your fingers trace down the curve of him, finding the edge of his robes.

“Fuck. You can have it, ad’ika. It’s yours if you want it.” His eyes are brighter, those shadows under his eyes less defined.

Hips lifting so you can draw him out, so smooth and heavy in your hand. On another day you’d want to stroke it yourself, feel the weight of it on your tongue. But you’re too desperate now. Already rising up on your knees, the robe parting like curtains at your hips.

The kiss breaks and there’s a soft protest as you line yourself up. Not for you to stop, for you to slow - merely for to take your time.

Though there is no desire to. The time you’ve already taken feels far too long, in this moment.

His hands move - sliding down to your hips. Resting there as you take him, the sharp stretch has the thick head parts you, as you slip down onto his cock. Even with the stretch of his fingers, it still feels like too much. A ragged gasp as your nails sink into his skin, though the fabric of his robes.

It twines with the pulse in your throat. Your fluttering heartbeat, the way you make room for him to fit inside you. His thick fingers flexing against bare skin as he bottoms out, as your thighs finally rest against his.

“Gods, you feel so good-” You keen - as you go still, for a long moment.

Breath caught in your throat, eyes widened as he watches. He shifts beneath you, the flexing of his legs as they stretch out beneath you. It moves him - a shallow thrust deep in your belly. That pleasure sparking, blending with the buzzing of your blood in your veins. Another roll of your hips, and then another.

Hands unfurling, slipping up to brace on his shoulders. Using them to aid your movements - the slow lift and drop that speeds up, as you get used to the feeling of him inside you. The way each stroke sends him against your walls.

His eyes are hazy - blood-drunk off you. Muscles strung tight as he lets you set the pace. Bouncing on his cock until you tire yourself out, until you beg for him to help you. Holding himself back, as your blood lingers on his tongue.

Your thighs burn with the effort. Head dipping down to see where he watches, the lounge of his shoulders against the headboard. How pretty you look, stretch around him. Something so fitting about how bare you are, against his layers - the edge of his armor, that bites into your wrists.

His fingers drift down from your hip, around the curve of your thigh. The pad of his thumb pressing against your clit again.

Following the rise and fall of your hips, circling against you the way he had watched yours move.

You swear you feel him throb in you, when his eyes raise. Lingering on your chest, the sticky smear of crimson against your skin - an errant drop from his eager drinking.

It’s then, that the scales tip. His body moving against yours - a hand wrapping around your back. The shift of his hips as he lurches forward, until it’s you that is pinned beneath him, back pressed against the mattress.

He’s deeper like this. Hips snapping into yours, as you cry out. Head dipping down, his tongue dragging against your clavicle. Down, to lap the trail blood from your skin as he groans.

You back arching into his touch as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your breast, a soft cry as his fingers find the other, trapping the tight bud between his knuckles.

“Could feel how much you wanted this.” His voice is a low rasp. Your thighs wrapping around him as he ruts into you. A circle of his hips grinding against your clit, slick and swollen from your connection.

Feeding off him, in your own way. Something sweet and heavy slipping through your veins. Your skin feels too sensitive - all your nerves alight under his touch. Head tilting back against the blankets as his weight settles over you.

As that feeling builds up again, faster this time. Racing, with the stretch of his cock. The way his hips roll back. Leaving you to clench around the tip, before plowing back in.

You’d never considered your mortality before, but it flickers in your mind now. Just how delicate you feel. A true vampire lord, able to crush you if he wanted.

Instead, he touches you gently - as his hand finds your wrist, his fingers curling around. A swipe of his thumb against your skin as he reaches to pin it against the bed. The other tucking beneath you, cupping the back of your neck again.

It sends another wave of heat between your thighs. The pound of his cock even louder than the press of his fingers, your slick arousal audible - layering with your cries.

There’s a warning on the tip of your tongue - the words coming out slurred instead. A soft, panting groan. Your heels digging into his lower back, eyes fluttering shut as he grinds himself against the spot he had found with his fingers.

“Twice wasn’t enough, ad’ika? Going to come again?” You can hear the grin in his words How it’s an inevitability, with the way he moves in you.

Unable to look away, with the way he holds you. Not that you’d want you, you think - even if you could. The fix of his gaze feels like a gift, bestowed upon you.

Captivating, with the way he soaks in every minute movement. The sweep of his eyes as he watches you start to fall apart beneath him.

You want to feel him again. That pounding surge inside your veins, that sensation of feeling even more connected than you already are.

So, you beg him for it. Eyes heavy-lidded where they find his. Your words punctuated with the hitching of your breath as you guide him down to your throat, with eager hands.

“Bite me. You can, I’m yours-”

Your pleas are impossible to resist, when his own pleasure thrumming in his belly.

He bites higher, this time. In a spot that even your tallest collar won’t hide, teeth pricking skin. Your cry turns into a groan as the rapture courses through you, seeping into your veins. Flooding his tongue, as he drinks again.

You shatter. Caught in his grip, unable to squirm with his teeth in your neck. His weight pinning you down as you pulse around his cock, your cry high and broken in the castle room.

He groans into your skin. The suck of blood over teeth, tasting how it turns sweet. Flushed with your ecstasy, an endless loop between his teeth and the tight clench of your cunt as you come.

For a moment, your eyes flutter closed. Images flicker behind your eyelids - shown as if you were outside yourself.

Red petals against green. Your perception darkened, as if behind a visor. Visions of you, leaning over your stall. Surrounded in a wreath of flowers, hand-picked from your garden.

A throb in your chest, one that blooms - skittering down your spine, settling low in your belly. Almost like butterflies, with how their wings feel like they flutter.

The sensation disappears too fast to make sense of - breaking, as he lets go.

Red smeared across his lips as the steady thrusts become short, messy. Fingers biting into your skin with the slap of his hips, the harsh grunt that turns into a ragged groan.

Hovering over you, as he notches himself deep, one last time. The column of his throat lengthening as his head tips back - it takes everything to resist the urge to make your own mark, as he spills messily inside you.

Throbbing, chasing the high with the grind of his hips.

His eyes losing that sharp edge, when his head tips down. Soft and warm, a sunrise welcoming a summers day.

Everything moves slowly, after. The lazy relaxing of muscles. The tilt of his lips when you whine, when he slips from you. His fingers slow, sweeping - as they dip down. Teasing where he drips from you, as your mouth finds his again.

Tender, as the robe is fully stripped from you. Boba’s words coaxing and patient, as he shows you the strap of his armor. How to take him apart, until you match - a perfect pair.

The aches that linger in your muscles are soon soaked away in the bath he draws. Your second today - a true luxury. The ceramic tub large enough for your back to cradle against his front.

You don’t think you ever want to leave.

Drowsy and content, his cool fingers welcome against your neck. A salve smeared carefully over the marks from his teeth. A promise that your skin will heal by morning, soft and smooth again - unmarried by his touch.

You think next time… you’ll ask if they can stay.

You’re warm against him.

Boba hasn’t been warm in years. Too used to his skin, carved from stone. Forever unchanging.

But you - you’re supple. Soft in his hands, molding yourself to fit the curve of his chest, where you cheek nestles. A thigh splaying over his waist, fingers splayed out against his stomach.

There’s much he should be doing. The sun has set some hours ago, and there’s a long list of things that need his attention.

But for now, for this moment, he will stay. Just a little longer, before he’ll slide out from beneath you, slipping away like a shadow.

You stretch against him, calf pressing into his thigh. Words heavy with sleep and exhaustion, so soft in the night air.

“‘m glad you picked me.”

There’s a stirring, in his chest. Where he thought he was long-dead, his palm pressing down where it rests against your back.

The briefest moment before he’s answering, an idle threat as a deflection.

Hushing you instead, his voice low, “Sleep, little one. You’re mistaken if you think I’ve had had my fill.”

You can’t help the smile, even as your teeth bite into your lip to stifle it. Squirming against him, the press of your center against the curve of his hip.

A low hum of amusement in his chest, as the arm that stretches beside you curls up - tucking around your ribs, nestling you a little closer.

He listens, as your breathing grows slower. Until you’re drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

Only then, does he let his mind wander. Back to the place where it had been earlier that evening. When he teeth were bared, that moment where his armor had been so thin.

“Don’t close your eyes.”

If you had, you would have seen.

Peeling back his memories, discovering just how often he had strayed down to the marketplace, after your first meeting. Not for gold or for payment. Only to catch a glimpse at the girl that had burrowed under his skin.

Somewhere along the way, changing from a casual observation - making sure Shard kept away - to something far more intimate.

Something akin to longing, if a man like Boba Fett could feel that way.

You would have felt - when the goblet raised to his lips for the second time…

Just how much he had hoped it was yours.

ad'ika - little one | sarad - flower | mesh’la - beautiful

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 🥺💕 I wanted to explore some of the same themes but in a new way for Boba (rejection of fate, the intentional in the way they seek each other out, instead of the pull of soulmates) - I just thought that would be so fun. I hope you liked this! 💖

tagging some pals!: @margofiore, @marieg, @wingofshadow, @reaperofmen, @bobaprint, @phoenixhalliwell, @csboz, @imarvelatthestars

#vampire!boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut

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echoedcrosshairs · 2 years ago

Text

His Queen ~ Boba Fett x F Force User Reader

Summary: You and Boba use to be a thing before he fell into the Sarlacc pit and since returning he hasn’t reached out so you decided to make the first move to see if the flame still burns.

Warnings: smut, mild talk of violence, unprotected sex, PiV, dirty talk, gloved fingering (f), creampie, age gap if you squint, cockwarming, exhibitionism, jealousy, mild breeding kink if you squint, possession if you squint, regret, helmet kink, dom/sub/switch play

Word count: 6.2k

You leaned back into the large throne noting that it needed some serious pillows and padding. Two Gamorrean guards walked in with their weapons draw advancing towards you. Your lips curled in annoyance but you allowed them to come to the edge of the throne before extending your hand and making one fall before you used him as a foot rest.

"Make yourself useful, get me something to eat and tell the Great Daimyo that The Queen is here," you purred making yourself as comfortable as possible.

The other guard ran off and the one under you stayed still, it's probably been a long time since they seen a force user let alone a women who wields it like a weapon. You're kind trailed off remembering Boba and how long it had been, anger trying to boil over that he survived and didn't try to contact you or even let you know. You tilted your head back against the throne assuming the other one wasn't coming back with food. The quiet foots drew you out of your memories, you looked up to see a woman with a bright orange helmet pointing a rifle at you. You rolled your eyes but then you saw the dull shine of green beskar approaching. Your heart fluttered but you restrained yourself to keep from jumping up.

"How does my milady like the throne?" He said helmeted taking the knee before you, his hand motioning for the woman to lower her blaster, "Does the Queen request a tour?"

"New pet?" you said eyeing the woman with annoyance, she was a little older then you but definitely his type.

"No, my body guard and dear friend."

"You? Need a body guard? Tsk. Fine you may rise," you said with a small smile pulling your feet off the guard, "I am simply known as The Queen," you said offering a small courtesy to the woman, "You are?"

"Fennec Shand."

Boba walked up and took your arm in his, "You didn't answer the question about the throne," he teased.

"Pillows, lots and lots of pillows."

"Why do they call you The Queen?" Fennec asked curiously following several paces behind both of you.

"I am kind yet cruel, authoritative yet yielding, and because of this," you said moving a finger bending her rifle chamber up and then straightening it.

"A force user?" She said looking at her rifle.

"One of her many talents," Boba chipped in, "Quiet the bounty hunter, gave me a run for my credits time to time."

"And thankfully you decided I was benevolent enough to partner up time to time," you winking holding his helmeted gaze, knowing his perfect brown eyes were staring at you, "but someone's noticeable absence has left me quiet malevolent," the softness in your face faded to an icy glare.

He pulled you closer "It might have escaped My Queens mind that I have been quiet busy."

"Getting wise in your old age," you purred, "thankfully for you it was not a crime that I could not forgive with time," you felt his gloved finger under your chin, his other hand ripping up his helmet just enough to expose his lips.

"Forgive me, My Queen. You should have known I would eventually have set every ship at my disposal to find you and bring you back to me," he said bringing your mouth to his allowing his lips to apologize, "I am sorry," he finally whispered, your name fall silently from his lips like it was the most guarded secret in the world letting his helmet fall back into place.

"So have you given up bounty hunting?" you said looking out the grand windows to the endless sand, "and the code?"

"I'm a simple man making his way through the galaxy," his whisper seemed to echo against the stone, "I'm not ready to give it all up, a man has to remain battle ready until his prime has long since faded and mine has not," he said walking again, "but this is home and where I belong now."

"I've missed you, Boba," you whispered the sentiment betraying your demonstrative cold behavior, "but how dare you say you would not come for me yourself."

"You were never far from my thoughts," he said squeezing your hand, the leather's warm embrace made you smile, "but I did have obligations here to attend to first"

You pouted, annoyed but understanding what little you knew of him now coming to rule clearing it of the spice trade and other criminal notions. "No massive fire pits?" You purred, "I'm almost disappointed however I do feel the rancor your bonded too, it almost makes up for it," you said letting your free hand trail up his arm touching the cool beskar.

"I have yet to renovate since moving in, hopefully I can have more of your input if you stay maybe a fire pit or two for old times sake although I don't think there are many enemies left to char."

"There are always enemies in the shadows, you know that well. But we'll see I am quiet the busy Queen places to see, people to kill, credits to collect."

"A Queen whose only ever been ruled by me," he whispered leaning towards your ear, "or do you need a reminder My Queen?"

"You have Mos Espa yours to rule now instead," you hissed back but he knew you liked it, Boba always knew when something suggestive landed but he would never tell you what the tell was.

You watched him give Fennec a small dismissive nod to Fennc, she offered a small bow to us before leaving. Boba grabbed your arm tighter guiding you in a new direction. The smell of a kitchen tickled your noses. The dining room was grand lined with empty tables and chairs with an ornate engraved table designed for four at the very back overlook everyone.

"A feast tonight in your honor?" He asked.

"Showing your beautiful guest off to your subjects? How bold."

"No one would dare try to steal you from me," his gloved finger traced down your cheek towards the back of your neck, grabbing it, "I'll make sure of it."

A heart beat fluttered in your lower extremities pulling with excitement over such a delicious threat. You couldn't see into the visor but you knew by heart where his eyes were and you stared at the positions where they were wishing you could see the look on his face and the intensity, "What if I wanted them to dare as punishment to you."

Boba sighed knowing he wasn't going to win this. He knew you were hurting because he hadn't sent for you or tried to reach out while both of you were never spouses before due the nature of the job there was always a spark and undeniable tension both of you tended to give into after a bounty but now time had gone by and he had never bothered to speak his heart. Boba could sense the sand in the hourglass trickling, you coming and teasing him back after all this time was a silent offer of chance to atone and amend his mistake. "If that is what The Queen deems a suitable punishment so shall it be," he said cautiously removing his hand from your neck and tilting his head forward in offering, "A suitable punishment for this fool of a man for losing so many glorious opportunities to enjoy time with such a lovely creature such as yourself."

"My thoughts exactly," you said resting your forehead against the cool metal of his beskar. It made your heart flutter at the sentiment and meaning of it, he gave your forehead a little tap with his and a smile broke out across your face, "Going soft on me?"

"Never," he replied taking a few more deep breaths before pulling back, taking your arm and guiding you in another direct, "I assume you have plenty of sinfully tasteful fitting dresses with your luggage or do you want to see how Mos Espa looks on you?" he stopping at a crossroads in the hall.

"I had one especially made before coming in case I needed to get your attention " you teased, "I can't think of a better time to test in."

"How wicked" you heard the smile in his voice finally picking a direction a direction "You've never needed anything to get my attention Mesh'la," he added, "Do I get to see it before the feast?"

"What would be the fun in that?" You laughed.

"It must be some dress then."

"You have no idea my dear Daimyo."

Boba guided you back to his two main guards, listening your muffled giggle at the one you used as a foot rest. The sound of it reminded him of another time another Boba. "Go with them, they'll carry your luggage back for you and provide a room for you. I'll get the word out about today," Boba said with a small bow dismissing himself not waiting for a response. His mind was exceptionally sharp but it was clouded when you were around and he desperately needed some fresh air. When he reached the throne room dias he disappeared behind a small door to a balcony that oversaw the city below still semi shrouded from view.

"Lover?" he heard Fennec ask behind him.

"A life time ago, yes."

"Don't let her distract-"

"I always trust your wisdom, my dear friend but I don't think she's here to distract me. It seems she's here to see if the spark is still there or if it's time to move on."

"Is it?" she asked.

"I hope so. Invite everyone for a feast tonight. Get the best cooks and musicians, please."

"Please? I like her already," Fennec chuckled starting to make a mental list and those to contact some help for such a last moment event, "Why haven't you taken your Helmet off? I haven't seen you wear it so long."

"I've gotten old and forgotten what it means to wear it. Not sure if I'm ready for her to see that."

"So you do have doubts?" Fennec smiled.

"I haven't lived this long without being prepared."

Fennec nodded, Smart Man, she must be one hell of a Bounty Hunter to put him on edge like this. Fennec excuses to herself to start making preparations for the eventing contacting the Mods to help her spread the word.

You watched the guards pick up the two very heavy trunks and fling them over their shoulders with ease. Smiling you closed the ship after wondering around it once more and followed after them. You took in the sights on the way back, the sand, the people, the peace. You remembered what this place was like, the fear and iron fist but now it seemed people were actually happy and living life. While the sand was not something you cared for you, it could be home or at least a place to dwell between bounties. Your mind trailed back to Boba, the roughness of his voice and how different it was from when you last heard it, it made you wonder what had happened to him in the time apart.

The guards took you to a room past the Daimyo's at the end of the hall, the room was luxurious dripping in finery. They put the trunks at the end of the bed and left you to explore in silence. Their was a beautiful vanity lined with fragrances from through out the galaxy. Then you saw it the small fragrance box in the back unopened, no dust clung to and it was obviously new. You sliced the cover with your nail and opened it, revealing a translucent blue bottle labeled The Queen, you smiled at the limited edition perfume knowing you were really on his mind. You opened the balcony to look at the city below, your hands trialed the railing the cold metal reminding you of him.

You tapped the back of your knuckles on the railing frustrated. Should I have even came? There's plenty of other bounties hunters would would be worth the time of day, several of which are Mandalorians or equally rough around the edges. Boba's obviously retired, could I? Your mind trialed to the stacks of your stashed credits, the adrenaline running through your veins and the electricity dancing throughout your nervous system on a bounty, the reeling feeling of being alive and then back to him. You groaned pulling yourself away from the railing, sensing the approaching person coming to your door. You opened it before they had time to knock, finding Fennec standing in the door way.

"Ms. Shand, how can I be of assistance? Someone you need to talk?" you smiled.

"No, I came to escort you to the Daimyo bathing room if you wish to use something a little more luxurious then your own."

"Let me grab something to slip into for the time being," you said turning and rummaging through the trunk to find the floor length black slip at the bottom, "How many hours until the feast?" you asked curiously.

"Three."

Short and simple, "How is he...? Really I mean," letting your voice dropped to a hush tone.

"He's a better man."

"Thank you for watching over him," your voice dropped even lower.

"That's what family does," she said pushing open the large door revealing a steamy chamber with several bathing soaps and assorted towels, "Enjoy, I'll leave you to it. You can go back to your room when ever your done."

You walked inside pulling the door shut behind you, admiring the long tub with steam rolling off of it. You dressed down and submerged yourself in, the heat engulfing you in a warm embrace. You dunked your head back and let the warmth touch your scalp.

"Little one," you heard the smirk in the tone echo in the chamber.

You looked around not seeing anyone but you felt his presence nearby, "Can I help you?" you asked innocently running your fingers through your hair.

"Can I come in?"

"I'm not going to stop you," you said sinking yourself further down into the tub.

Your eyes caught sight of a small door opening, assumingely connected to Boba's room. He was still armored but he strode in and took a seat next to the bath.

He watched you sink even lower into the bath, "I don't remember modesty being one of your strong suits."

"I don't remember being an observing prude being one of yours either," you snickered back lathering your hair, "nor one for wearing so much black," your eyes danced around his body back up to his helmet, "or secrecy."

Boba sat slightly watching you lather and wash your hair, "Stand," he said once you were done.

"What if I don't want too," you teased, standing just enough to were the water still covered your nipples distorting them. His silence maddening not taking the bait, you moved the the side of the tub he was sitting on, pressing your against the wall and standing so nothing was visible. You noticed the small adjustment he made while sitting knowing it was getting to him. You let your arms go up to your head and squeezed some of the water out of your head letting the top of you be exposed to him, "Satisfied?" you asked lowering your arms covering yourself again.

"Come here, My Queen," his voice was husky with lust, motioning you forward with a finger.

You painfully took the stairs out of the tub one by one so he could trace your body with his eyes. You could feel his gaze shifting the impression leaving warm spots up your body. You stood in front of him crossing your arms under your breast to prop them up, "You are interrupting my bath," you said simply.

"I could give you a reason to get back in," he said suggestively placing a gloved hand on your waist noticing the small goosebumps appear.

"I don't think that is the point of the punishment," you said turning letting your back and ass be in view.

"I didn't say I would get pleasure from it," he smiled.

"If it would hold you over until after the feast," you relented smiling down at him, "One wouldn't hurt."

"Of course, My Queen," he said pulling you down on your knees before him.

You could already feel your slick starting to coat you and he wasn't even touching you yet. He leaned down putting his helmet in your face letting two fingers trial up your side to your breast and pulled gently on the physical reaction it caused. You let out a small pleasurable hiss at the feel of the semi rough leather, he quickly stuck one finger in your moan to silence you as he brought his free hand back to your breast. You let your tongue stroke the leather teasingly, you opened your mouth wide letting his finger escape visibly coated with drool. You heard a small groan escape him and his legs shift again. You smiled wiping the little bit of left over drool off from your lip.

You watched him lean forward more dropping his hand between your legs circling your clit. Your slick coating the rough leather. You heard his breathing hitch and a small growl escape him. He cautiously twirled one gloved finger around your entrance gently pushing it in.

"Fuck," you moaned as the leather breached you.

"You are so tight," he groaned shoving it further into you, "So tight."

"Boba," the filthy moan escaped your lips, he shoved his finger further up without restraint to the spongy button stroking faster.

His finger stretched you as it curled into you, "My Queen," his voice was huskier, lust was taking over and he was doing his best to restrain his need.

You started grinding into his finger clenching around it with every movement. You gasped as he inserted another finger stretching you out further, "Bobaa," you said fucking yourself harder with them bringing your hand to your hair and the other hand to his arm.

"Careful My Queen, I only have so much self restraint," he said being rougher, his other hand holding his cock to keep it from stroking itself in his flight suit. He desperately wanted to take it out and stroke himself.

You stood, his fingers popping out without warning causing you to shutter but you shoved him back in the chair and undid the pants of his flight suit, "Boba, now," you pleaded watching his mass spring up, the tip coated in precum more pulsating out at the command.

"What about my punishment?" He said shakily watching some of your slick fall on your thigh.

"You don't want me?" You teased exposing your thigh to him but forcibly shoving his cock back in his suit and zipping it up, "I'm going to bathe, your excused," you said turning back to the bath and taking a step off the ledge into the water, wiping your thigh off.

You heard his breathing quicken, "Yes, Milady," he panted standing up.

"Next time just give me your cock, or I might be tempted to get my fill else where," you threatened not looking at him.

"I'll kill him. Slowly," you heard the anger break in Boba's voices, you smiled knowing he was going to think of you ever moment until tonight.

The moment Boba reached his room he walked into the refresher gripped the counter trying not to relieve himself. He was so turned on and ravenous didn't notice your footsteps sneaking up on him until you did his flight suit again. You pulled him around and put the engorged member between your thighs holding it in place.

"It was almost just as fun watching you punish yourself," you purred, letting your hands move to the green chest plate, "but I really really want you right now. I won't asked again."

Boba picked you up like you were weightless and plunged his cock into you, "Fuck, Boba ," you screamed, as he started plowing it into you. He was forcibly stretching you out around him, his fingers dug into your hips the tightness nearly making him cum right there.

He was relentless and didn't stop as he put you on the bed, "My Queen," he moaned. The heat of being in his armor was bugging him, he quickly undid it tossing it to the ground. Your fingers went to his helmet, "It stays on," he growled being rougher cause your hands to move away.

Your fingers moved to his body, the muscles were quite was defined but you could feel he was definitely stronger. His cock was threatening to split you in two with every thrust. The heat of you engulfing every carnal urge within him turning them up. Boba felt you start shaking under him, "I've missed you" he groaned being rougher grabbing your legs and splitting them further his fingers digging into your ankles feeling you tighten around him, "You're so beautiful," he added staring down your beautiful face.

You felt his cock starting to twitch, you wrapped your legs around his ass pulling him closer and putting your hands around his neck, "Fill me, Boba. Please," you let your thumb trial up under his helmet to his jaw rubbing it matching his strokes. His arms shot down to catch himself, both of them placed on either side of your neck. Your felt him start shaking inside you, you let out cries of his name. Boba's never fucked you this hard, every thrust spearing you like it was the last. Your toes curls and your fingers dug into him harder piercing skin. You make the mistake of looking down watching his cock slide in and out of you, "Maker," the visual sent you over the edge. The pleasure coursing through you making every limb twitch but heavy. Your cunt quickly violently tightening around him when you felt him finally spill his warm release into you, his name falling from his lips like a prayer. You clenched again feeling some of its vast amount spill out.

He groaned the movement causing his sensitive cock to release what little was left in him, "Mesh'la," moving one of his hands gently to your embracing face. He kept himself situated between your legs and his cock slowly softening, massaging your twitching muscles, "Did I hurt you?" he asked tenderly.

"Boba Fett, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy worried about hurting someone?" You cooed, your heart still shaking and your high finally coming down.

"Only you milady," he said slowly trying to pull himself in but felt your heels dig into his ass and pull him back in.

"Done already?" you teased.

"I'm not as young as I use to be," Boba said leaning his helmet on your forehead.

"Just leave in me for as long as possible," you said pulling your hands from his face and resting them on his neck, "Why won't you let me take it off?" You whined.

He tipped it up and kissed you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and lathering your neck in soft kisses before putting the helmet back on, "Believe it or not but self consciousness. After the feast, you can take it off."

You wiggled your hips a little bit cause him to growl, "Fine, but come down here I'm cold."

Boba tucked his arms at your sides laying his head on your shoulder and his body on your chest covering you with his own heat. He could feel himself hardening again, he stiffened a small groan knowing you felt it too.

"Leave it," you said stroking his back feeling the muscle.

"Trying to have my heir?" he chuckled.

"In your dreams Fett," you laughed back.

"I'm in my dreams" he leered slightly thrusting in.

"I would have to be way fuller to even consider it, old man," you teased.

Boba's cock twitched eagerly, "That an offer? Maybe I'm not as old as I thought"

"Maybe after the feast and you've endured my torment," you teased, "besides it would be my heir," you tsked at him.

"An heir for each of us?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hmm, I'll have to think about it," you said trailing on finger up his spine feeling him tense again, "Perhaps-"

Fennec knocked on the door knowing better then to open giving the noises coming from it a little bit ago, "One hour." She quickly turned away grinning hoping his mood would be improved.

"Rain check," Boba said finally allowed to pull out staring at his seed oozing out of you, "Me'copaani ba'jurir ti ni?" his mandalorian was rusty but it still rolled off his tongue.

"I said after the feast," you said with a giggle watching him twitch, "Maybe you could make up my mind," you teased spending your legs further for him, tempting him.

Boba shook his head scolding himself, "After the feast," but the roughness in his voice told you it worked. He handed you a towel. He watched you hold yourself above it watching it dripped out. He groaned but grabbed his discarded clothing and walked into the bath room his self control slipping.

You followed after him with your clothing laughing and you still managed to beat him into the water, "You're going to close your control when you see the dress, might as well lose it now," you winked it him beckoning him into the water.

"I am a disciplined warrior, I have perfect control."

"And how many times did you take me while flying because you couldn't wait?"

"Get clean," he said lathering you in wash and than himself.

You rolled your eyes and finished leaving him in the bath by himself, "Send for me when your ready for your torment."

Boba watched you leave before taking off his helmet to washing his face and neck. You wrapped your hair up to finish drying while you opened the trunk to pull out the dress, your hands felt the silky fabric perfectly matching the red shade on this helmet fading to the green of his helmet and chest plate, cut to perfectly put everything on display and two side slits going all the way down to put your body on display. You smile pulling the open backed gown on and releasing your hair. Let's see how long he can keep his hands off me or see me with another man. You went to the vanity and looked at the new one smiling, you gave yourself several sprays of it. You were almost finished getting ready when a soft tap came at the door, "Enter."

Fennec walked in with the corner of her lip pulling into a smile, "A statement?" she offered.

"A question," you smiled, "hopefully one he'll finally answer."

"We're ready," she said.

You slipped your shoes on and quickly followed after her and the music. When you both entered the dining room it fell silent except for the music, all eyes on both of you. Fennec escorted you up where Boba and two empty places were. Both when both of you took your places the chatter started back up again. You side eyed Boba who didn't even turn and look. Maybe I should have done green to red then. Then you noticed Fennec eyeing him. So I did get under his skin.

You watched the Daimyo stand up and have it fall silent again, "I welcome you all to eat, dance and live. This feast is in our a dear friend, The Queen, who came to visit. Let's show her how Mos Espa now flourishes, free of war, spice and tyranny," he said raising a glass, sipping it and back down. He saw the few men eyeing you and was doing his best to quell his anger. Boba saw one eyeing you and you giving him the quick flash of a wave. So my punishment has started... Is that my perfume? He tighten his jaw, the dress was the perfect allusion to him yet perfectly opposite of his scheme. To him it signified you as his and as he equals, along with the perfume being another jab at the thought of seeing you with anyone else.

You saw Boba's free hand ball into a fist and his gloves tight against his knuckles, knowing your legs were covered by the table cloth you run you your foot up his leg with a smile between delicious bites. Everything about the feast was delicate yet stood out by its own, no two dishes tasted alike and every drink offered was vastly different. The desserts was one of kind. Maybe I would stay here just for this. You eyed the man heading to the dancing area, alone. You wiped your lips and excused yourself falling after him.

"Not eating?" Fennec said looking at the dessert, "I would have assumed you worked up at appetite earlier," she added scooping up a piece.

"Just waiting for her to be gone," he admitted tipping his helmet up and eating finally.

"She's really having an effect on you," Fennec said watching.

"We all have that one personal bounty that got away. She is a huntress personified."

"Why did you wait so long?"

"I assumed she moved on and I am a relic of the past."

"Boba for being the smartest people I've ever met... you sure are always the stupidest when it comes to the heart," Fennec said putting down the spoon full of dessert spotting her dancing with some guy, "A woman like that doesn't move on. Why are you dealing with this punishment," she said with a small chuckle.

"Ever defy a Queen before?" He growled, "I'd disintegrate him just for touching her, but I'm assuming this is her way of testing me and her way of asking me what I've been doing with others since."

"Have you?" Fennec asked raising an eyebrow.

"No," that was the question that unscrewed the final bolt. Boba tipped his helmet back down and wondered down the floor towards you.

The man spun you around, it was a silence dance. It seemed almost like he was on autopilot. Then you noticed the man eyeing him in the corner, it was the look of a lover pinning. OH, you giggled and grabbed his hand dragging him towards the balcony.

"Did I make your boyfriend made?" You asked jumping up swinging your legs over the rails and sitting down.

"You know?" He asked confused.

"I am The Queen, there's little that escapes my eye. How are you enjoying the changes to Mos Espa?"

Boba found both of you outside, he leaned against the shadows in the door way listening. His temper calming after the admitted statement noticing the lover too also watching and listening. Boba smiled.

"The new Daimyo is a kind and stern man, he yields his influence only in the most respectful ways," the man said leaning against against the railing.

"Has the Daimyo ever shown interest in... any woman?" you asked cautiously.

"No, he spends all of his time making the town better or helping friends."

"Would you consider him a good man then?"

"Unlike anything this town has ever seen before. War broke out here, even when it looked like certain defeat he did not back down trying to protect this town. No other would have done that."

"Maybe I don't need to punish him as much as I thought," you said looking at your nails before taking in the city again, "Loyalty is the way, without a clan you are empty," you muttered, "You may go, have fun," you said looking at the city.

Boba stepped out the shadows and put his arms around your waist, “What was suppose to be the punishment?”

“The punishment would have came if you didn’t come after me,” you purred rubbing his arm, “you never disappoint.”

Boba lifted your legs and spun you around on the railing, putting himself between your legs, “Don’t get any ideas little one, we have company,” watching your hands wander to his abs, “as much as I want you and for you to be off limits.”

“So I’m not yours nor off limits? Good to know,” you said disappointed, “I guess I will be on my way then,” you said your heart starting to aching, you tried standing but he pushed you back down on the railing

Boba growled pulled away, walking over to the blinds and pulling them down and shutting the door. He ferociously pulled up your dress and rutted himself against you his cock desperately wanted to be released from his flight suit and cod piece, removed the piece and unzipped his flight suit moving your soaked underwear to the side and piercing your warm harshly making you moan his name.

“Mine,” he growled, thrusting, “My Queen,” he added thrusting again.

“Boba… Do you want me… ahh to stay,” you panted trying to be quiet.

He thrust again stopping for a moment, “You don’t have to give up Bounty Hunting for now,” he said gently running his hand over your stomach, “I’d prefer if you stayed here with me.”

“Boba, do you lo-“

“Yes.”

You smiled taking off one of his gloves, “You should have told me.”

“I know,” he admitted sourly.

“Now, get back to work,” you winked putting the glove in your mouth, both of you knowing damn well the music was to loud.

“Yes, My Queen,” he said holding your face rutting into you.

Your head went back, his cock clinging to your walls splitting you with every stroke. “Maker,” you moaned muffled by the glove and you could feel him twitch.

“Do you want me to cum into you,” he said wiping your cheek with his thumb, slowing down for a moment, “or I could use that pretty mouth,” you heard the smile on his voice.

You wrapped your leg around him shoving him further into you feeling more of your slick coat him, “Little one likes her filling,” he groaned picking the speed back up. The base of his cock was violently rubbing your clit engorging it with desire, “Don’t worry I’ll take care of my mess,” he said looking down at the union. He buried his other hand into the flesh of your ass using it to stabilize himself as he spilled into you. He clenched his jaw holding back the noise his throat was trying to maybe, he continued to pump himself until he felt like everything was out. He pulled himself out tucking himself back in. He let two fingers glide in and felt you arch forward, he pulled the glove off leaving it inside. Bringing his rough calloused hand to your throbbing clit, stroking it gently. Your thighs closed around his hand, he ripped them open using one leg to hold on side open and brought his other hand to your legs shoving it open, “I’m not done yet.” He worked your lips between his fingers putting his thumb on the sensitive tip.

You wildly started moaning as he worked you with his fingers and you could barely breath, your legs kept trying to clench shut and your cunt was clenched tight enough that it was trying to push out the glove. He shoved it back in “push out my load and you’ll be the one getting punished.” You moaned again at the comment. He said stroking faster setting your body on fire, every inch bouncing electricity limp to limp numbing every other sensation, “That’s it, cum for me.” Your face started burning at the command and roughness in his tone. He removed his hand from your leg and brought it to the back of your neck. You could’t stand it anymore you flipped up a finger causing his helmet to come off. You stared into half lidded dilated eyes, you pulled the glove out of your mouth grabbing him and kissing him letting his mouth muffle your orgasm.

“I almost forgot how handsome you were under there,” you breathed putting your arms around his neck, pulling him back to your mouth. You pulled back tracing the small scar across his face, “Am in trouble aren’t I,” you smiled.

He smiled pushing the glove in more pulling away and closing your legs picking you up, kneeling to pick up his helmet and opening the door guiding you back inside, “I’m going to enjoy filling you until it spills,” he smirked, “won’t mind a princess or two if they as strong as you.”

“Or as loyal as you.”

The rest of the towards Boba’s room was silent he gently set you on the bed pulling up your dress and pulling out the glove with a delish little liquid popping noise and tossing it to the ground. He stripped himself of everything but stopped at his vambrace pulling out the grappling line before discarding it to the ground, “I didn’t teach you everything,” he smiled grabbing your hands putting the line around them, “Now I’m going to spend the rest of night reminding you who’s really in charge here.”

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100lxtters · 1 year ago

Text

Testing the ‘old’ Hunter

!! THIS ONE SHOT IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!

AO3 I Masterlist

Boba Fett x fem!reader 6.5k words Deciding to roleplay with Boba was a dangerous game, especially in terms about how his hunting skills where, teasing that they would have weakened with his older age. Hiding away in a cantina from him, awaiting for him to retrieve you and have his way with you Dom!Boba, sub!reader Warnings : dom/sub, smut, brat, predator/prey kind of, roleplay, mask/helmet kink, choking, degradation kink, handcuffs, naked female clothed male, face slapping, hair-pulling, finger fucking, orgasm denial, orgasm control, spanking, helmet stays on, penis in vagina sex, a bit toxic but its all consensual, praise kink, creampie, reader is on birth control, aftercare Mando'a translations: cyar'ika - darling/sweetheart mesh'la - beautiful ad'ika - little one

The music in the cantina was burning your ears as you swayed your hips, the tiny outfit you had on barley covering your ass and your tits daring to slip out the top. Everything stunk, your shoes were sticking to the floor with every movement, and there were too many creeps staring at you.

But you tried to ignore it, letting the little amount of alcohol in your veins run through you as your eyes danced along the room. You had managed to pick an almost hidden spot in the busiest cantina on Tatooine.

Surely he won't find you easily.

Your legs dug into the arm of the throne, smirking down at Boba as you say ''no, I reckon your skills have roughened up over the years. I bet you wouldn't be able to track me down, even if you tried your best.''

His hand stopped stroking your thigh, now gripping tightly onto it, pulling you closer as his other hand cups your chin, ''careful there little one, you don't want to test me.''

''Whatever you want to think, old man.''

Smirking to yourself as you glanced over to the door, questioning where he will start, and how long he had already been searching. Wondering if he found the note yet, and if he did how quickly he jumped into your little game.

All your note really stated was 'let's test those skills and come collect your bounty' as you left it laying on the arm of the throne.

You had left the Palace early this morning, finding old clothing in an abandoned room, most likely from Jabba's rule. Once you left you just started heading into random cantinas around Mos Espa until you realised that was too easy for Boba, so you ended up in Mos Eisley instead. Of course to keep the game fun and to give him the 'thrill of the hunt' you left clues behind in those cantinas. Not much just like a piece of jewellery, an old top you were going to bin anyway, and in one cantina you literally just wrote Boba on a glass in lipstick.

It was silly and dumb, but for you it made it more interesting, wanting to see what he would use to find you again.

You just prayed he didn't use a tracking fob as that would be too easy.

The door sliding open caught your attention, your head slowly turning towards it to see a mirialan woman walk in, you just sigh and put your attention back into dancing. Starting to figure it was maybe time to move to another cantina, if Boba was on his way then it would be more fun moving again.

Trying to plan what clue you could leave behind you hear the sliding door once again, heavy steps entering the cantina and a few people quieten down. Surely it must be him now.

So you peak your head around the corner and see you were correct, his head slowly turning around the room, you ducking behind the pillar before his sight set on you. ''Please, enjoy your night everyone. Don't mind me'' Boba announces, his voice almost sounding tired. Hearing his heavy steps make their way to the bar, closing in to the tender as he says, ''I'm looking for a girl.'' You angle yourself to be able to watch the situation now without him seeing you.

The balosar man behind the bar, scuffs and replies ''look around mate, there are plenty of women here.... for the right credits of course.''

''No, I'm looking for a specific girl'' Boba replies, the slight hint of annoyance in his voice from the mans suggestion, ''I'm looking for her'' he adds as he places down a holodevice with an image of you on it. Fuck.

Time to go, you think. Your eyes set on the backdoor, but you knew that it would mean Boba would see you in the process of escaping. So you do what you've been doing most the day, you sway your hips towards the door and act like you're just part of the crowd.

''Yeah I've seen her, she's just over there'' you hear the tender reply.

It was like you could feel Boba's eyes burning into your back, now it was time to really go.

Your feet pick up and you run for the door, hearing his heavy armoured body fastly heading towards you. Your whole body shoves against the door, forcing it open and sliding through the first gap you could. His footsteps stop once you're out the cantina, you smirk and turn around. The sight was almost horrifying, his helmet just glaring at you through the gap.

But you keep going, heading down any small alleyway you could find, rushing into another cantina just to run out their backdoor too.

There wasn't much to run to here, at the end of the day you do want him to find you, you wanted him to punish you for running and take whatever he wanted from you.

The whole time you are just smiling to yourself, cutting through crowds and sliding through whatever space you could. You were well ahead of him now, but just how far? He knew what to do and how to find you.

After you run into another alley you slow down, allowing yourself to take a deep breath in and calm. Maker, running on Tatooine wasn't a good idea, regardless of how much cooler the nights may be, the humid air didn't calm down at all. You'd think thanks to your very little clothing it would help yet they just stuck to you. Even if Boba wasn't far behind you the likeliness of him finding you had to be lower now, right?

Letting your feet still wander the hidden alleyways, taking a moment to feel smug for escaping that cantina just before Boba grabbed you. You wonder if he knew you were there all along, or how many hours had he been searching for you. Maybe you'll never know, it was part of the fun anyway.

Suddenly you startle at the sound of a lizard falling out of a bucket onto the sand, scurrying away. You quietly laugh to yourself as you walk backwards until your body knocks into something, or more like someone. ''There you are'' the modified voice says.

You jump forwards before they grab your hand, spinning your body around and shoving your back into the closet wall. ''Ouch'' you say, pretending to pout as you stare into the visor of your lover.

''Do you know how long I've been looking for you? Had me searching half of Mos Espa before I realised you got bored of there, I would've found you hours ago if it wasn't for that trick.'' Oh, so your plans worked, he really was trying to find you using basic skills then.

So you just shrug and reply ''guess you're getting rusty in your old age then.''

There, you could feel it start to snap in him, the teasing was working just how you intended, how you wanted this 'game' to go. His hand launches onto the front of your throat, squeezing on both sizes as he pulled you closer, ''oh cyar'ika, keep testing me and see where that gets you.'' His voice so deep, so serious, you had never heard him speak to you like this, even in times of degrading you.

And yet it was just getting started, you could feel your pussy clenching around the air as you reply smiling with ''testing you? You really must be getting old if this all tired you out.''

This was possibly a bad idea, but you knew it would be worth it.

Without saying anything else his hand leaves your throat, you go to shoot him a confused look but before you can reply he grabs the top of your arm and shoves you forward, ''walk'' he orders. So you slowly move your feet towards the alleyway exit, hearing his spars behind you. You hope he's been enjoying hunting you down, making him work for it.

As the Mos Eisley streets appear a smirk crawls onto your face as you say ''it's awfully nice that you found me, but'' stopping in your tracks, turning to your left ''I've got to go.'' Then you're sprinting again.

You hear Boba curse under his breath, hearing his steps speeding up but you were faster than he was. Turning any random corner to stay out of sight, once again heading into a cantina to cut through. Wondering how far behind he was now, wondering how annoyed he must be and how he will take it out on you. It made your stomach flutter with excitement.

As you rush through the streets again you can feel the glares of the locals, wondering how often they must see these type of situations. Obviously yours being different since it was a consensual hunt.

After a little while you hide behind a corner in an empty mechanic workshop to catch your breath and to cool down. What was his plan? You basically told him to come find you, but what did he intend to do when he did? You prayed you both shared the same idea on it.

Thinking about how aggressive he would be, having his way with you as he wished. Taking what is his. Claiming his 'bounty'.

Your thoughts are cut as his spars once again ring in your ears, you poke your head out for a moment to watch him walk past the workshop. ''Come out brat, I know you're here'' Boba says, almost shouting. The locals must be so confused, wondering what the Daimyo was doing hunting again. The temptation to turn around and just say 'oh don't worry, it's just a sex thing' made you almost giggle imaging peoples reactions.

Moving back into the shop, eyes locked on the back door, trying to sneak over there to flee out the back. You hear him say your name, catching you off guard, causing you to knock a hammer off the table. Shit.

You don't even wait around to see if he heard it or not, and realistically he did as it landed onto metal, you just rush for the door. Shoving it open and using your whole body to shut the heavy door. You let out a sigh, but it was an early celebration.

''Get here, now'' you hear from the end of the street. Your head turns to him, you smirk and begin to head the other way until you're unable to. Your arms become attached to your hips, a wire wrapping around your whole body. There was nothing you could do except stand there like an idiot.

There was a pull on the wire, you assume it was due to him getting closer. His steps so heavy in the soft sand, getting closer and closer to you. Until he was right behind you, holding one shoulder to turn you around to him. ''H-hey'' you bat your eyelashes at him.

Boba's hand moved from your shoulder, hearing him fiddle with something as you felt your body become lose. His gloved hand holding your wrist before there was a click around it, a tight feeling too. Looking down to see him attach the binder to your other wrist too. Your head shot back up to his as you gave him a confused look, opening your mouth to say something before he gripped your cheeks and squished your face. ''Save it, you're coming with me. Wither you like it, or not.''

He grabs the top of your arm and starts to pull you along with him through the streets. You could feel your cheeks heat up as people stared at the pair of you, but you tried to swallow the embarrassment away, because at the end of the day you're about to have a fun evening. However you kept your head down to feel better, yet you were still smiling to yourself.

You were starting to wonder where he was taking you until Slave 1 comes into view, makes sense since both towns were opposite ends of his Palace. As the ramp starts to lower you use all your force to pull yourself out his grip, and luckily it works, mainly because he wasn't holding you all that tight. His helmet snaps to you as you back away from him, your face wearing a grin as you say ''so much for being a bounty hunter.''

A groan appears from behind his helmet, ''I mean it this time, back here now'' his shoulders tensing as he stands still. The glare from behind the helmet made you weak, you didn't even know how he was looking at you currently but you just knew he looked pissed, but most likely also smirking too.

There wasn't anywhere to really run to, just the endless Dune Sea, but again you weren't trying to run, you just wanted to play with him and get him riled up. It was only the two of you out here, keeping a distance from him as you say ''or what? What makes you think I'd come with you?'' Watching as his feet start to move towards you, so you back up with every step he takes, staying just out of reach.

It happened almost out of nowhere, he sped up and almost launched at you, causing you to let out a yelp as he grabbed your upper arm again but a lot tighter this time. No trying to escape again. ''Kriffing brat'' he mutters under his breath as he drags you back to the ship.

''Get off me'' you struggle, trying to keep your lips from curling into a smile.

But it's useless, he walks up the ramp with his grip still tight, pressing a button to shut it before turning to you. Boba's visor glaring at you before you feel his leather gloved hand come in contact with your cheek, the slight burning sensation from the slap causing your mouth to hang open. He then grips both your cheeks with one hand and replies ''when I tell you to get back here then I expect you to do so.''

Your gaze just locks onto the visor, trying to come up with something witty to reply with. ''Oh, I'm so scared of you mister bounty hunter.''

Boba then spins your body around to face his small bunk on the ship, shoving your body into it, falling onto the hard mattress as you make eye contact with him for a moment before he says ''it would be in your best interest that you stay there, you don't want to find out what will happen if you disobey me, again.''

The door then shuts as you hear him climb the ladders up to the cockpit, you let yourself let out a deep breath and giggle to yourself. Maker you hope he is enjoying this as much as you are.

The hum of the ship startles you as you feel it begin to take off, where was he taking you?

As he's out of sight you pull a pin out your bra you had hidden, holding it between your teeth to unlock one of your wrists. Leaning forward to press the button to open the door, you look out and see he is still up there. Exiting the bunk, shutting it behind you and sneaking across the ship into his big weapons cupboard. Looking through the tiny gap to see him when he returns.

After a couple of minutes you hear him climb back down the ladders, pressing the button to the bunk and sighing when he notices it's empty. ''Oh princess, you're making this harder for yourself. Can't follow one fucking instruction'' he groans. Watching as he presses a button on the side of his helmet, tilting his head downwards. You hear him chuckle and say ''we both know there's not many places to hide in here, so come out and I'll be kinder mesh'la.''

But you don't, you don't want him to be kind.

''Fine, have it your way.''

Boba's broad body turns around and charges straight for the cupboard, almost ripping the doors off as you come in contact with his helmet. He doesn't say anything as he grabs the dangling binder to pull you towards him, pulling you into the room as he shoves you towards the table in the middle of it.

He places you in front of him with your back turned to him, his strong hands digging into your hips as he forces your body over the table. Your ass instantly falling out the tiny outfit, feeling his crotch slightly rub against you, causing a quiet whimper to leave you. ''Is this what you wanted? For a big, bad bounty hunter to take advantage of you?''

Your free hand is pulled behind your back along with your cuffed one, him then closing the binders back around it again, holding your hands behind your back. Pressing your forehead into the table as the rest of your body fell against it, the only support keeping you up being your legs just about touching the floor still.

''For someone to treat you like the low life whore you are?'' His cold gloved hands running over your ass cheeks, playing with the hem of your underwear, ''to have your pussy absolutely ruined whilst someone takes their reward?''

You can't reply, if you speak it'll come out a whimpering mess, but he knew that. It was what he wanted. There was no way he couldn't see the soaking wet patch in your underwear. He knew what you wanted, knew that this was your plan all day.

His hands explored lower, closer to your aching pussy, sliding under your underwear. He was so close, right there, he just needed to move a little further in and give you what you so desperately wanted. His fingers softly crept along your folds, your body ever so slightly twitching from anticipation, then he very quickly ran a finger over your clit. A whimper sneaking out your throat before you could stop it.

Boba does it again, so you push yourself closer to his hand as much as you can, wanting more from him. He just tusks and says ''you don't get what you want now, after how you've been acting today little one.''

''But... please'' you whimper.

''Pathetic'' he chuckles, his hands moving away before they land on your hips, thrusting his clothed self against you causing a choked moan to hum in your mouth. One of his hands then snakes into your hair, grabbing a fist full of it making your neck snap as far back as it would, then his helmet lowers down next to your ear. ''Listen to me, slut. You do only as I say or do, and if that is so hard for you to follow I will make you regret it.''

You let out a dramatic sigh and reply ''and if I don't? Would you hand in a damaged bounty?'' teasing him as you smirked at the empty room in front of you.

''No, however you're my bounty so it doesn't matter. And seeing as you're mine I can choose my own reward'' as he finishes speaking you feel the hand from your hip go between your bodies, him messing with his pants before you feel his hard warm cock against your ass. Your body once again twitches from the touch, your thighs dying to press together to add pressure from your excitement.

Feeling his hand in your hair releasing you to grab the skirt, his grip tightening on it before he ripped it off your body in seconds. You let out a heavy breath from his sheer strength. Feeling him throw the fabric across the ship, then doing the same motion with your underwear, leaving your soaking pussy out in the ships cool air.

Boba's hands roam up your body, reaching the tiny top as he mutters ''you've been dressed like a little slut all day, where you hoping you could use your body to get out of this?''

Blushing as you almost whisper ''maybe, but I knew it would've worked.''

His gloves reaching under your bra, his freed cock running against your bare pussy, feeling it twitch as he cupped one breast softly saying ''oh did you now? Well it doesn't seem to be working right now, seeing as my plan for you'' his fingers pinching your nipple as you whimper, ''is to have you do whatever I please and wish to. You have no say in this matter, do you understand?''

''Yes'' you reply quietly, almost feeling shameful for your response as your brain starts to get taken over by horny thoughts.

Once again he tightly grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back so his cold helmet sits above your ear. ''Yes, what?'' Feeling his chin run along your ear as he spoke, almost spitting the words as he said them.

''Yes, sir'' you spit back. A groan leaves him as you suddenly feel him shove two gloved fingers into your pussy, a choked moan leaving you as he stretched you open. His fingers pushing deep into you before he starts thrusting them in and out, the leather harsh against you.

Leaning back up but still holding your hair as he says ''quit with the fucking attitude, or this will be harder for you.'' His fingers speeding up, you try to hold back your moans as much as possible but you struggled. ''Stop being pathetic, just let yourself enjoy what I do to you.''

And oh was it tempting, wanting to give into him like usual, being his perfect little sub you are most the time. But this was too fun, acting out against him and not following his exact order always caused a rush through you. ''M-maybe do better then'' you reply, breathing heavily as you swallow your moans.

You feel a third finger force it's way into your tight hole, tears threatening the corner of your eyes, feeling them curl inside you hitting the perfect sweet spot. Unfortunately that was enough to make you let out a loud moan. Boba chuckles behind you, ''what was that princess?'' His grip on your hair loosening as you feel yourself clench around his digits. ''Aw, are you getting close?'' his tone almost a mockery tone.

But you don't give him the satisfaction of replying, instead shutting your eyes and trying to hold in any moans and just letting out quick heavy breaths. He was right, you could feel the pit in your stomach growing, you had been waiting all day for this. You wanted a release, was enjoying this so much already.

The pool in your stomach starting to get ready, ''do you wanna cum? Tell me.'' You just nod and hum, still refusing to give him what he wants, but instead it just leads to his hand tightening in your hair again. ''Speak.''

''Please'' you blurt out, a moan sneaking out too. But as expected, he stopped. Letting go of your hair and pulling his fingers out. Cutting your orgasm off too soon. The side of your face resting on table, it cool against your warm face. ''Fuck you'' you mumble.

In response you were greeted with a hard slap across your ass cheek that caused you to yelp, before he did the same on the other cheek. Your legs squirmed and pressed together, maker that hurt. It's always worse when he slapped your ass with the gloves on, there was more power behind them. His fingers dig into your ass cheek as he groans ''oh I plan to.''

Without another second he shoves his cock through your folds, into your wet desperate hole. Filling your pussy completely with his thick length. Going as deep as he can, the base of his cock resting against your ass before he pulls back as he snapped his hips into yours hard and quickly.

You couldn't hold back anymore, you allowed the moans to fall out your mouth but only quietly, not letting him get the full satisfaction. Your denied orgasm building back up, shit you were already so close. He must have known as he teased ''you getting close again already?'' All you can do is nod, ''good, I want you to thank me after you cum, and you best remember what I said before. Also, I'm going to count down from five and then you can cum, you cum before that and I'll make you regret it.''

Oh, this game. It was fun, but maker was it almost scary, not wanting to cum before he allowed you to as in the past he had stopped mid orgasm which is just not fun.

''Five'' you ball your fingers in, tightening your grip around nothing just to ground yourself. ''Four'' his hips started to slap harder, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. ''Three'' you let out a deep moan as his balls slap your clit, a sharp sensation running through you. You weren't going to hold out longer. ''Two'' shit, you prayed he would hurry as the pit was about to drop.

Preparing for the last number, the go ahead that you could cum. You were struggling against the binders, your face melting more into the table, your pussy clenching, ready to cover his cock in your cum.

His voice lowers, becoming so husky as he says ''one.''

Your body becomes undone beneath him, moaning loudly and messily. Body jolting as you suffocate his cock within your pussy. Eyes rolling back and seeing stars as you cum hard around him. His pace doesn't slow down, your cum making your already wet hole more wet for him. ''T-thank you.. sir, thank yo-you'' you moan out.

''What a dirty little slut, making a mess all over my cock'' he tusks down at you. His thrusts slowing down a little, grabbing your binders to use as a grip, forcing your body up a bit as he shoves his cock deep at this new angle. ''Such a beauty split open on my cock.'' Sweat falling down your back, your eyes fluttering open as mixes of heavy breaths and moans leave your mouth. Hearing his armour clank as he fucked you harder as he just held you up.

Then you heard a quiet hiss, your wrists becoming free, feeling the binders slide down your back and make a soft bang sound as the landed on the floor. Boba then slowly pull out of you, you already felt so empty. He then grabbed your hips and turned you to face him, his hands instantly working on getting your top off, letting your breasts become free.

''I really lucked out with you, such a beautiful bounty'' he groaned as his fingers twisted one of your nipples. Your whole body almost blushing as your back arched a bit. ''Maybe I should keep you, no need to hand you over to anyone, is that what you want?'' Him closing in on you, your ass leaning against the table, ''claim you as mine? Make everyone know you're my slut?''

''Please, sir'' you whimper. His hands move onto the top of your thighs, helping lift you onto the table, pushing your legs open as he stood between them. Lining his cock up to your already sensitive pussy, slowly pushing it in as your hands fall onto his shoulders for grip, wrapping your legs around the top of his thighs.

Your grip around his legs making him go in deeper, you managed to get your own way without him realising he was doing so. He almost hugged your body as he went as deep as he could, he mumbles a curse under his helmet. His hips starting to rock against you, your fingers dig into the beskar but obviously it didn't do much for you to help hold yourself together.

So you move one hand off his shoulder and starting to sneak it up to his helmet, wanting to feel his lips against yours. You start to lift the helmet before he grips your wrist harshly. Using his other hand he pushes you onto your back, you let out a heavy breath, shocked from the quick motion.

His other gloved hand smacks against your cheek before he holds your face second after, ''you never try to remove a hunters helmet, understand? Or are you too much of a dumb slut to know that?'' growling down at you. Boba's hips not longer rocking into you, just holding you as he glared through his visor.

''But I just wanted a kiss'' you pout.

His helmet gets closer as he quietly says ''I don't care.'' Then returning to slamming his cock further into you. His hand leaving your face and moving to your breast, tightening a grip around it.

''B-but that's not fair'' you whimper out as your back arched. The pit in your stomach filling again, your breathing increasing as you stare at him through your eyelashes.

However they fly open when his hand grips your throat, the other one still holding your tit. ''I don't fucking care what you think is fair or not, I'm in charge here. You're mine, and I will use you however I wish to'' Boba spits, his tone so serious now. The pool ready to drop, your pussy tightening around him again. ''Just cum, slut.''

And you do, not wasting a second. You cum harder then you did before, it almost hurting as you squeeze around his thick self. ''Fuck'' you mumble, it almost slurring. You were already starting to feel tired, not sure how much more you had in you. His hands return to your hips, he had just been holding you on his cock as you came, but once he could see you calmed a bit his grips on your hips tightened as he just used your hole.

''You're like my own personal fucktoy, aren't you? Just letting me do whatever I want to your perfect body'' in some way it was almost like he was worshiping you as he degraded you, it just sent flutters to your cunt. The way he was managing to make you feel so special whilst he ruined your body.

His fingers dug into your hips, you can guarantee there will be marks there tomorrow, small bruises most likely. Your eyes looking down at where you were both connected, such a beautiful sight.

Boba must have caught your eyeline as his lowers whilst he says ''look at how perfect you fit around me, like you were made for me. Maker, I'm keeping you all for myself.'' You could feel his thrusts slowing down, but his stride were longer, pushing his cock as deep as he could into your pussy. It felt like he was in your stomach, pushing so far in.

Pussy clenching around him due to the pressure it was pushing inside, ''si-sir'' is all you can mumble out. Watching his helmet move back up to view your face, waiting for you to carry on whilst his dick was so far in you that it almost hurt. ''I... can- can't'' you say with half shut eyes.

One of his hands moved off your hips and he held your cheek, ''what's wrong ad'ika?'' his voice full of faux sympathy. Your face just slightly tightens as he pulls out and then forcibly shoves his cock back in deep, a choked breath managing to fall out your mouth. ''Is it too deep for your little pussy to handle?'' You could feel him smirking behind the helmet, maybe it was time to give him some attitude again.

''W-what is that you go-going deep? Weak'' you mumble.

Oh maker, that was a decision. Boba's hand travels down to your neck, holding your throat hard, his shoulders tensing. ''Just when I thought you were being a good girl for me, you pull that?'' Feeling his length pull back, before quickly driving into your cunt. His thrusts now fast and deep, any moans you were trying to keep down were instantly blocked by his grip on your throat.

Your body felt like it was on fire, he had never fucked you like this before, you couldn't tell if this was part of the 'game' or this is him showing how rough he can really be but just hasn't showed you yet. The way he was treating your body was like magic, you had never felt so good during sex before like this. Using everything he knew you enjoyed but cranked up to 11.

He removed the hand off your hip and slowly trailed down to your clit, his thumb running over it causing your hips to rise without control. His fingers pressed harder on your throat as he said ''ah, none of that. Keep them down.'' So you try to force your hips back down but it was hard to do so as he ran his thumb over your clit again and again.

Shit, you were already getting close again. The pit starting to fill up again.

''Kriff you wanna cum again?'' He says almost mockingly. You can only nod, looking at him through half lidded eyes. ''Say it then slut.''

His hand loosened off your throat and landed back on your hip. Taking a deep breath in, swallowing before you say ''please... let me cum again.''

However you are met with a slap across your face. Your eyes fly open as he once again grabs your face. ''I've already had to tell you once, 'let me cum again', what?''

''Please let me cum again, sir'' you say, glaring at him as you do so. You didn't even mean to not use the title, you just forgot as you were more focused on wanting to cum.

''Fine, but this is the last time you're cumming tonight'' Boba groaned. He lifted your legs up a bit to wrap around his waist, pulling your bodies even closer. One hand resting on your waist as his fingers dug in again whilst his other thumb went back to running over your clit. Then he started the fast motions of his hips rocking back into yours.

You felt your pussy then tightens around him, ''g-gonna... really close'' you whimper.

His fingers push harder into your flesh, more bruises to deal with most likely. He starts doing little circles around your clit, your legs start to tighten around him, ''wait'' he orders. Your eyes start to fill with tears, you were right there. He just needed to say the words. You couldn't hold back much longer.

''Please sir'' you almost cry. It was almost getting too much.

He thrusts deep into you, then pulling back out before say ''cum'' as he fucks you hard. A loud moan escapes you as your eyes rolls back, pussy choking his cock as you cum hard around him. The tears run down your face, landing on the table beneath you. ''Such a good girl for me'' Boba praises as stops rubbing your clit, his hand joining your waist like the other.

Him holding your body tightly under him, fucking you hard and fast through your orgasm. Your legs begin to shake and tighten around him. ''Come on, just hold out a bit longer for me, princess. Let me fill this pretty pussy full of my cum, let me claim you.''

You let out a shaky breath, ''please'' is all you can mutter. You wanted him to cum in you so badly, but fuck you were tired and cummed out. You feel your body may give up if he carries on for much longer.

Boba just speeds up, you can feel his cock start to throb inside you, it somehow feeling thicker. He was trying to chase his own high, clearly close himself.

''Fill me with yo-your cum mister... bounty hunter'' you moan.

It was like something switched within him. His fingers dug even deeper into you, somehow, whilst his thrusts started to become messy. ''Fuck'' he moaned out before you felt your walls become covered in his warm cum. The thrusts slowed down, however his grip was still tight. You could feel him twitching inside you, getting every drop of cum out of him into you.

Then you felt it, the excess cum already dripping out your pussy. How much did he cum? Feeling it run past your ass and either landing on the table or floor, you weren't even sure where your body was. Your legs slowly started to drop from Boba's waist, dangling off the table. You heard him let out a deep breath before he pulled out, his cock covered in both of your releases.

His hands let go of your hips, then your back arches again as two of his fingers enter your abused pussy, ''can't let any of this cum go to waste'' he groans as he shoves it deep inside you. You let out a broken moan, you were too tired for this now, you needed to rest.

Boba's visor connected with your eyes again, ''awe did I break my bounty?'' You decided to give in, you were satisfied with your little game, so you just nod. ''Good'' his smirk auditable through the helmet. Pulling his fingers out before he moved back from your body, ''stay there'' he ordered before you watched him disappear into the fresher. You did attempt to sit up but fuck your body was tired, so you just lay there as the sweat ran off your back onto the table.

When Boba returns he is holding the same small cloth he tends to use when you fuck on his ship. He stood between your legs as he gently cleaned your cunt. Your body did flinch due material being a little rough on your sensitive parts, but you just tried to stay still for him. He was always so caring when it came to this side, no matter how deep he was clearly into character, he still wanted to make you feel safe after.

Once all the cum was cleared he placed the cloth down on the table, then he gently helped you sit up. Your head swayed a little, but you were okay, just sore and tired. However the hissing sound of his helmet coming off woke you up.

You meet his beautiful brown eyes and smile, ''hi.''

He cups your cheek as he chuckles back at you ''hi? I've been here the whole time.''

''I know, but I missed your face'' you reply as you rest your hands on his chest. ''Can't see what you're thinking behind that bucket.'' You lean your face closer, ''or do this'' before placing a soft kiss on his lips. He holds your face to his, just kissing each other softly and lovingly.

He pulls back enough to say ''did you enjoy all that though? I wasn't too rough or mean with you?''

You smile as you shake your head, ''no I really enjoyed it Boba.''

Another kiss is planted on your lips as he cradles your head, ''I'm glad. Now let's get you covered so we can get you into a proper bath at the Palace.''

#boba fett #100lxtters #100lxtters one shot #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #f!reader #fanfic #one shot #18+ fanfic #18+ one shot #star wars #the book of boba fett

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deewithani · 2 years ago

Text

Patience

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: ROTJ era Boba Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 377

Warnings: Established relationship, unprotected P in V sex, no plot all porn, Boba’s full of himself.

A/N: I’ve had this essentially finished since November 2022, but couldn’t push forward to post it. Posting as a drabble to hopefully bring myself out of my posting block. Oh, this was also based on a dream.

It feels like he has been at it for hours.

You would have tapped out long ago, but kriff the man and kriff his challenge. 'I bet I can make you come without touching that perfect clit of yours.' And gods, you were stubborn enough to let him try. But now here you were, ass in the air, forearms barely able to hold your weight, with bruises that were certain to be blooming underneath the fingertips that were digging into your hips with each snap of Boba's hips.

They say the mark of a great bounty hunter is patience, and Boba's patience seems never ending. He has been relentless, keeping a strong, steady pace until he feels your pussy begin to clench, then he backs off, pulling you away from the edge and the blessed release you have been chasing.

He's toying with you.

You groan, coherent thoughts having long fled. 'Aw, were you almost there?' His voice is filled with mirth, more than Boba shows anyone else. He reaches between your legs, and you hope for some much needed relief, but release is denied to you yet again, his fingers slipping to either side of your clit, spreading your slick through your folds, but staying well away from the bundle of nerves that is throbbing for attention. 'Tell me what you want ad’ika, and you can have it', Boba purrs in your ear. 'Please, Boba. Please, touch me!', you moan, each syllable forced from your lungs as Boba continues his steady pace. 'I am touching you, princess. But if you're talking about touching that perfect clit, you agreed to -' he slows again, pulling you tight against his front and grinding deep ' - this, but I can help you'. 'You kriffing asshole!', you panted, as Boba shifts his stance and begins to pump his hips in earnest, hitting that one spot that had you seeing stars, over and over and over again. His name became a chant, 'Boba, Boba, Boba!', until finally, thankfully, he let you fall over the precipice, your core pulsing out its own rhythm, your slick dripping down your thighs.

'I said I could make you come without touching your clit. I just didn't say how long I would make you wait.'

____________________________

Taglist: @ashotofspotchka @gummywurme @tacticalsparkles @ghost-lantern

It’s been a really long time, so please let me know I’ve tagged you and you don’t want to be on my taglist anymore, or if you want added (even though I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus for a while).

#boba fett x reader #boba x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #clone wars fanficton #star wars fan fiction

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bobathirstaccount · 2 years ago

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Slut

Boba x fem!reader, smut, developing relationship, bit of fluff

TW: consensual slightly rough sex

***

Boba watched as you danced to the cantina music. You were out there alone, holding your own against the Twi’lek entertainers. He sighed and took a sip of his booze. Surely you had no interest in him, but that didn’t stop him from having an interest in you.

Suddenly you turned in his direction. You motioned to him to join you. He sat, stunned. After a moment, he felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him out of his seat. “Go already,” Din said under his breath.

You had returned to your carefree dancing, but when he approached you, you again motioned towards him. He walked into your waiting embrace. The music played, going on about sex. He gulped, trying to not think about sex with you. It didn’t work.

You turned and sung some of the lyrics to him, “Lacing up my naughty girl shoes…” You ran your hands up his strong arms and wrapped them loosely around his neck. Leaning in even closer, you continued to sing-song the lyrics, “You know I’m a slut for you.”

Boba’s eyes widened but he tried to play it cool; it was just a dumb song after all. You inched closer, rubbing your tits against his chest and tightening your grip on his neck. You really were getting into this song, he thought, helplessly. Your low-cut top shifted and he realized you were not wearing a bra. He almost drooled at the sight of your nipples. Your tits were on full display for a moment that seemed to Boba to last forever. Then you twirled around, releasing him. He sighed in both relief and disappointment.

But you had more plans. You grabbed his hands and wrapped them around your waist, placing them on your stomach. You backed into him, grinding and rubbing his hands all over yourself. He tried to keep his hands from squeezing, but when you stopped at your tits he couldn’t help it. He leaned into you, groaning unconsciously while he lightly squeezed you. You let go of his hands. He eagerly slid them firmly down your torso to your hips. Holding you in place, he ground himself into you.

Someone from the crowd bumped into Boba, reminding him you were still in public. He started to loosen his grip, but you wouldn’t let him. The loud music and the crowd pressing in made Boba uneasy. But you wouldn’t stop teasing him, and despite himself, he didn’t want it to end. He gave in and pressed you into himself. Sliding his hands up your torso, he stopped when they were covering your tits. He leaned into your neck. His breath fanned across your skin as he said, low so that you could barely hear, “What do you want?”

You took one hand and grabbed one of Boba’s. Without hesitation you slid it down your body to the hot place between your legs. He groaned into your skin as he followed your instruction, stroking your clit through your leggings with his thick fingers. You squeezed your thighs together, pussy tight and close to cumming. But you wanted him inside of you.

You took his hands in yours and started to pull him through the crowd. Some guy got in your path, dancing towards you. Boba pulled you a step back, but the guy just followed. Unreasonably angered, Boba punched him in his ridiculous face. He was not about to get cock blocked by some punk.

You had turned around, and were leaning into his ear, “You just laid that guy out.” You were laughing. Boba’s mood improved, but he still felt impatient. You turned and started to lead him through the crowd again. Heart pounding, he followed.

You ended up at the edge of the bar. Boba looked to you for guidance. You sat down primly. He sat next to you, pulling the bar stool as close as he could to you. Your knees touched. You leaned in extremely close, your lips lightly touching Boba’s ear, “Buy me a drink before I suck your cock?”

He blinked. Did you just say that? He waved the bartender over, a pretty Twi’lek. She batted her eyes at him, probably trying for a nice tip. Boba impatiently ordered two fire whiskeys. She sauntered off. He turned back to you. You were smiling knowingly, “Flirting with the bartender?”

“Hardly,” he rolled his eyes. You snickered, then grabbed his hand. You placed it in the crease of your hip, his thumb right above your pussy. He felt his pulse rise again. “Well don’t you want to get me riled up so I’ll do a good job?” You teased. He didn’t know what to do. The drinks came, the bartender seeming to linger a moment. Boba turned his head from her to focus on you. He slid his thumb down a centimeter. Then another. Your mouth opened slightly. He swiped a tentative thumb over your clit. You moaned, then snapped your mouth shut and laughed darkly. You spread your legs very slightly wider. It was very subtle, but he got the message. Sliding down further, he rubbed your clit with his forefinger while his thumb founder your entrance through your clothing. Pushing inwards, he groaned. He felt your hot wetness seeping through your pants. Now rock hard, he tried to contain himself. You gyrated against him. “Make me cum later?”

Boba nodded eagerly, unable to speak he was so shocked. You downed your drink in one chug, then said lightly, “Well now that I’m done drinking…” You licked your lips suggestively as you closed your thighs around his hand. Your knees brushed against his. His hand twitched, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Grinding on his hand, you simultaneously leaned in and and pulled Boba closer. You kissed his cheek right next to his mouth, lingering for a moment. After a slight pause you kissed his lips. Boba’s eyes closed as he kissed you back.

Someone bumped into you. You broke the kiss as you were shoved into the bar. Boba pushed the offending party away with one hand while he reached for you with the other. “Are you oka—“ You interrupted him by throwing your arms around his neck. Hanging off him, you asked coyly, “Will you take me home and take care of me?”

Without a word, Boba swept you up and returned hurriedly to the table where Din now sat alone. He tried to casually collect his and your things. Din nodded his head knowingly. You were too busy dancing against Boba to notice, but he caught it. It was annoying. He didn’t need emotional support to get laid. Did he?

He shook his head, over his moment of self doubt. Putting an arm around your waist, he gently pulled you along. Outside in the street, he pulled you a bit closer to keep you safe. It was always best to be careful. You snuggled into him, your hands burrowing into his clothing.

By the time you made it to your place, he was nearly carrying you. You cheerfully keyed the code for your door, which slid open noiselessly. You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him inside.

“So you want your dick sucked now?” You asked before kissing him. When you finally came up for air, he tried to casually say, “Well if that’s what you want…”

You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his hips. “What I want is your cock in me… we can do that a few ways.” Boba groaned, rock hard again. He throbbed, thinking of fucking you. You ground yourself into him, rubbing your cunt directly against the head of his cock through your thin leggings and his now maddeningly thick pants.

He walked forward and pushed you into the wall. Hastily undoing his pants, he murmured, “Drop your pants…”

You hurriedly dropped your legs to the ground and started to pull your leggings down. Impatient, Boba grabbed you and spun you around, smooshing your front against the wall. He pulled your hips out so your ass was presented to him. He took one hand and ran it up from the base off an asscheek to your hip. You felt his other hand wiggle its way between your legs. He slid a foot between your legs and used it to kick one of your legs out.

His hand burrowed into your pussy lips, finding your wet, tight entrance. He circled it slowly, driving you crazy. “Please, take care of me, baby,” you pleaded. Boba’s hand withdrew. For a moment, you were alone. Your skin tingled in anticipation and your pussy was throbbing with need. You moaned, desperate.

You felt his powerful arms wrap around you as his cock slide into the wet place between your legs. He stopped just short of penetrating you. He held you lovingly, but said into your ear darkly, “Tell me how much you want it.”

You dissolved into a series of mumbled ramblings. Seemingly satisfied, he pushed his hips forward, thrusting fully into you in one stroke. You keened at the sensual intrusion, desire and anticipation making you clutch around him. He grabbed your tits with both hands, and laid his head against the back of your neck. Without further conversation, he started to fuck into you, slowly but building intensity quickly.

You urged him on, bucking your hips and begging him to go harder. He slid a hand up from your chest to your throat and squeezed lightly. “Who are you a slut for?” He asked, voice low.

“You.” You turned your neck around to look at him. He raised his head and kissed you, then stopped fucking you with his cock fully inside of you. His hands roamed your body as you felt him in your pussy. Squeezing your tits, he groaned, “I could fuck you all night.” Your pussy clutched at his words, making his cock jump. “So needy for me, hmmm…” he stroked you once. Twice. Then was still again.

You were starting to get desperate. He played with your nipples and kissed your shoulder. You begged for more. His breath hot on the back of your neck, Boba asked, “So desperate to get fucked?” You shivered, “It’s just you that makes me desperate.”

He moaned softly. His hands slid to your hips. Grabbing you firmly, he began to fuck you again. “Just me? You wanna spread your legs for just me?” He fucked into you hard as you panted, “This pussy’s just for you, baby.”

Grunting, he echoed your words, “Just for me.”

His strokes drove you to the edge. You squirmed in his hard embrace, loving every second of it. Boba was also loving it, but something was missing for him. Finally, he knew what it was.

You moaned, unhappy, as he pulled out of you and pulled you away from the wall. “Wait, love…” He picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing. He hurriedly sat you on the edge of your couch. His hands went to your thighs, spreading them. He grabbed your face and kissed you forcefully as he reentered you. Caught off guard, you were momentarily overwhelmed. But you quickly returned the kiss feverishly, throwing your arms around his neck.

One of Boba’s hands went to your ass. He gripped it, holding you in place as he kissed and fucked you hard. In a hazy cloud, you wrapped your legs around him. He groaned, both hands going to your hips. You broke the kiss to beg, “Harder.”

His eyes went dark as he murmured, “Do you want it rough?”

“Ohmygosh, yes,” you pleaded.

A hand shot up to grab the base of your skull. He gripped you with incredible strength as he flipped you around and tossed you over the couch. Slapping your ass, he started to fuck you again. “Tell me if you like it,” he murmured. One hand grabbed your head as he fucked into you, making you squirm and your legs start to shake.

He pushed you further over the couch, its edge digging into your hips. “Ooh baby,” you started, but were cut off by a sharp smack to you ass. Stinging, the hot sensation trickled down into your pussy.

“Did you like that, you little slut?” Boba’s voice was hard, but with a hint of questioning.

“Yes, but I’ve been so bad… I deserve more.” Your heart nearly beat out of your chest in anticipation as he laughed darkly. You felt another stinging slap across your ass cheek. This time, he didn’t hold back, so it hurt even more. You loved it.

“Baby, you’re taking my cock so well,” his low purr did things to you. You moaned, pussy hot and tight around him. His strokes were hard, his thick cock slamming into you greedily. The drag of his shaft was finally too much and you cried out as you came, gasping for air and limbs going weak. He held you up, “Fuck, oh fuck, good girl…”

Boba cut himself off as he pulled out, groaning your name as he came. His hand loosened on your head momentarily. Before you knew it, he had hauled you up and crushed you into himself. Kissing you softly, he rubbed the small of your back lightly. “I, uhm. I…,” he tried to express himself, feeling vulnerable.

You smiled and waited. Closing your eyes, you laid your head on his shoulder. “You what?”

“Nothing.” He paused, then blurted out, “Can I spend the rest of the night?”

Your heart fluttered. “Of course.”

He mumbled, happy but too embarrassed to say what he was thinking.

“Come to bed, then,” you pushed him away slightly, then grabbed his hand. Pulling him along, you led him to the bedroom. The two of you slipped into your bed. Without hesitation, Boba snuggled into you, making you little spoon. His hand found one of yours again. Holding it, he sighed contentedly. After a quiet moment, he asked softly, “You wanna… like, maybe do this again?”

You had closed your eyes. They flew open. You smiled to yourself before you responded, “Finally. You are really hard to seduce. I asked Din for advice, and he said to just tell you outright… so when that song came on, I knew it was time.”

He tsked, “Slut.”

You laughed softly.

“I’m glad it’s just for me though…” he confessed finally. Smiling to yourself again, you asked sleepily, “Wanna stay for breakfast…?”

Boba kissed the back of your head as you trailed off, asleep. He’d have to have words with Din, but ultimately he was secretly pleased. He snuggled into you.

***

Song lyrics from: Naughty Girl by Qveen Herby

#boba smut #boba fett smut #boba x you #boba fett x you #boba x reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett fluff #star wars reader insert #star wars x reader #reader insert

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sgt-morgan · 2 years ago

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Working on a fat ass Din Djarin x reader x Boba Fett fic because my dumb ass can’t concentrate on anything else but the insistent need for comfort rn. God, the moment my family stops being so goddamn complicated and playing chicken with the Big Sleep™️ my life will be so good.

#din djarin au #din x reader #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x original character #din djarin smut #boba fett #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #boba Fett x reader x din Djarin #din Djarin x reader x boba Fett

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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months ago

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High Stakes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: canon-typical swearing, mando’a lanaguge, yearning, denial of feelings, placing bets, light dom/sub (with bratty behavior), possessive behavior, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 7k

When your employer loses a bet to Jabba the Hutt's favorite contract killer, Boba Fett, you are suddenly placed in his control. But you and Boba are not enemies. The two of you have known each other for a while now, and this only pushes the two of you closer together.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart mesh’ika – little beauty mesh’la – beautiful

The artificial air kicks in and its refreshing coldness brushes against your neck. You sigh heavily, appreciating the luxury that few establishments have in Mos Espa. Not even Jabba’s Palace can boast to having such a feature.

Glancing over your shoulder, the rest of the room begins to melt into smoky shadow. The large shutters over the windows start to shift downward to ward off the light and heat from Tatooine’s twin suns. They stop two-thirds of the way, allowing for natural light but shrouding Tranquil Sands in shadow. The small lamps at each of the tables turn on, giving the place an intimate glow. In the far corner, the band changes up their song, and spice smoke from hookah pipes fills the air.

It might be the middle of the day, but Tranquil Sands is full. It always is.

Need a drink? Tranquil Sands has a full-service bar.

Want to spend all your money gambling? Tranquil Sands has all the best tables.

Do you desire more carnal pleasures? Tranquil Sands can provide.

Or are you simply wanting a place to rest your head? At Tranquil Sands, there are plenty of beds.

Tranquil Sands has it all.

And you are its bookkeeper.

Lady Sheku, a beautiful Twi’lek female with peachy skin, is the owner of Tranquil Sands. You’ve been keeping her books for several years. The two of you have grown close over time, forming a subtle friendship built on mutual respect.

Trust is important for something like this. You work closely tracking every credit and form of currency that enters or exits this establishment. It’s not just to ensure that proper dues are paid out to Jabba, but to be as transparent as possible for when—not if—the Empire comes knocking.

“Is everything in order?” asks a sultry voice.

You spin around just as Lady Sheku approaches. The Twi’lek is gorgeous, and she doesn’t even try. Many with money on Tatooine show it off, but Lady Sheku is all gentle elegance.

“As it always is,” you reply, knowing exactly what she’s referring to.

Today is payment day. Today is the day that Jabba the Hutt receives the protection dues from Tranquil Sands. But it isn’t Jabba who fetches it, nor is it his loathsome second Bib Fortuna. It’s Jabba the Hutt’s favorite bounty hunter, Boba Fett, that comes calling.

He is always on time. Never misses a single payment.

“You look lovely today,” murmurs Lady Sheku, her brow rising slightly as she admires your outfit.

When out on the floor, you have to look like you belong, not like you sit in a backroom all day hunched over ledgers. Yet you also cannot look like any of the workers. That might give some guests the wrong impression, and the last thing you need is a misunderstanding out in the open. You’ve opted for black, a color none of the workers wear. They prefer brighter colors, and the ones for pleasure purchases are even brighter with golden bangles and necklaces. You’ve gone completely bare other than the thin black fabric that hangs on your body.

“Thank you,” you reply.

Lady Sheku leans in, her voice dropping even lower. “It can’t be because a certain bounty hunter is coming today?”

“No,” you answer automatically, but it’s not entirely a lie.

Boba Fett is sweet on you, and everyone knows it. You are the one who interacts with him, who hands over the credits, who makes sure Jabba is paid and satisfied. Boba Fett is the man between, and yet he is enticing. A flavor of spice you cannot seem to shake.

But no matter how much attention he gives you; it simply isn’t possible. The two of you cannot be together. Boba Fett is a bounty hunter. He wears Mandalorian armor. He works for Jabba the Hutt. Everyone knows how deadly Boba is, that he’d rather vaporize his bounties than bring them in alive. A man like that makes enemies, and you’d be first on the list if they plan on targeting him.

“Liar,” teases Lady Sheku, waving her hand dismissively.

As if speaking his name summons him, Boba Fett enters through the front doors. For a moment, all conversation ceases, even the music seems distant. His helmeted head swivels, scanning the room. When it lands on you, everything stutters before hurtling forward. He takes one step, then another, and then he’s moving toward you with purpose embedded into every slap of his boots against the marble.

“Boba Fett,” greets Lady Sheku, her head dipping slightly with acknowledgement. You do the same, knowing it’s better to show respect to one of Jabba’s favorite contract killers.

When your gaze returns to him, the T-shaped visor is aimed at you. Though you cannot see his eyes, you feel his stare. It brands your skin, peeling back the flesh to reveal your deepest secrets.

“Everything is in order,” you say, keeping your tone neutral. “The credits are in the back if you’ll follow me.” You shift and raise an arm, indicating the backroom you and Boba always meet in to make the exchange.

Boba shifts in your direction but Lady Sheku raises a hand. “A moment. Please.”

He pauses, and you drop your hand back to your side slowly, unsure of why Lady Sheku is delaying the proceedings.

“I have a proposal for you. An offer, if you will.” Lady Sheku’s shoulders shake a bit as she straightens her spine. Boba says nothing but inclines his head. “You never partake in anything we offer here at Tranquil Sands. As the proprietor of this fine establishment, I’d like to know what I can do to make you a loyal customer.”

You keep your face completely blank even as your mind races. Why is Lady Sheku asking this now? There isn’t any reason to delay. All the credits are there. In fact, there is plenty, so why make him wait? Why make you wait?

Boba Fett considers Lady Sheku’s question for a moment before he answers. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”

What I want isn’t on the menu.

When Boba says this, his helmet is turned in your direction, the T-shaped visor pinning you to the spot. Lady Sheku grins, her gaze subtly shifting between you and Boba.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” shrugs Lady Sheku. “For a price.”

Is she really selling you to him? You’re not a slave. You’re an employee.

You’re about to protest, the words forming on the tip of your tongue, but Lady Sheku gives you a look that silences you completely.

Trust me, it says.

Boba inclines his head. “I’m listening.”

“Wonderful!” Lady Sheku claps her hands together. “Let’s make a game of it. Shall we?” Placing one hand on Boba Fett’s upper arm, she guides him over to the gambling corner. Boba allows himself to be led and you follow right behind him, tension tight in your stomach.

“A wager,” says Lady Sheku. “If I win, you pay a portion of the protection money. If you win, you can have the woman you want for the evening. She will be…yours. Completely.”

“Lady—” you begin but Boba cuts in.

“What game?” he asks.

“Cards.” Lady Sheku gestures toward one of the tables.

“Sabacc?”

“Afraid, Boba?” teases Lady Sheku.

“Hardly. Let’s play.”

The two of them sit down at the nearest table. You stand there in shock, your feet unable to move. A droid dealer approaches, shuffling the cards, and still, you do not move. Others begin to press in, watching on as cards are dealt.

You want to rage, to curse everyone and everything, and yet, at your core, you’re not entirely angry. Lady Sheku has stepped over the line, crossed into territory that is blurry and wrong, but she’s not doing it for her own gain.

Everyone knows how sweet Boba is on you, how he always stands close whenever he’s near you, or how he compliments you at every visit. Even when he goes to the backroom with you, Boba is a complete gentleman. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t disrespect your boundaries. None of that accounts for all the gifts that arrive at Tranquil Sands’ doors. The ones for you never have a name on them, but it’s easy to guess who they’re from.

Something solidifies in your soul, and you take a step forward. A crowd has gathered, eager eyes watching on as the owner of Tranquil Sands and Jabba’s favorite bounty hunter face off over a few rounds of Sabacc.

The air is stagnant, and your gaze is glued to the floor.

Should you look? Should you watch on? Or should you let it be?

Even if Boba wins, you know he’d never hurt you. He has it in him to be cruel and sadistic, but he’s never raised a hand to you. He’s never taken what you haven’t freely offered. In this, if he wins, will Boba remain the same? Do you even want to know?

Kriff it, you think, shoving through the crowd, coming up behind Boba. Just as you squeeze between a Zabrak and Weequay, the crowd gasps. Boba leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, legs spread wide. Lady Sheku appears disappointed but you know her tells.

She glances up, winks, and then stands, sighing loudly. Your gaze falls to the table. Boba’s winning hand stares back at you tauntingly.

“You’ve won, Boba.” Lady Sheku inclines her head, hands spreading wide before her. The crowd around the table begins to disperse, their interest disappearing quickly. “My assistant will make sure you receive Jabba’s payment and then she’s all yours.”

Boba starts to stand and you shoot Lady Sheku a look. The Twi’lek shrugs casually. You’re welcome, she silently mouths before greeting a new wave of customers.

With Boba Fett looming over you, it’s hard not to notice his height and broad shoulders. The Mandalorian armor he wears is worn and dented, the paint chipped and peeling in some places. Yet it only adds to his aura, his sense of strength and power. His helmeted head dips as if he can kiss you through it. For a moment, your face rises as if to meet him, but you back out at the last second.

“This way,” you choke out, taking a step back, gesturing toward the other end of the room.

Boba leans away but he doesn’t create any distance other than that. It isn’t until you start walking that Boba moves, keeping pace with you. At the doors to Lady Sheku’s office, you scan your card and enter with Boba following behind.

“I’d offer you something to drink but this will only take a minute,” you say over your shoulder.

At the massive safe, you enter the code, retrieving the credits in their locked box. Turning around, you set the box down on the table, opening the lid to reveal the credits inside.

“Everything appear satisfactory?” you ask.

Boba doesn’t say anything. It’s infuriating because you don’t know if he’s looking at you or the credits behind that bucket.

“It’s all there. You can count if you—”

“You’re mine,” says Boba, like it’s an indisputable fact.

You take a deep breath, hands balling into fists at your sides. “For the evening,” you amend.

Boba glances down at the credits. He shuts the lid, reengaging the lock. His head tilts and his hand ascends, one finger pressing to the side of his helmet.

“I’ll need a pick up,” he says to someone that clearly isn’t you.

Boba does not pick up the credit case. Instead, he steps around the desk until he’s standing next to you. Reaching out, the back of his gloved hand brushes over bare skin. You feel the ridge of knuckles through the leather.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod because you don’t trust yourself to form proper words. Boba’s touch is like a stun wand. Electric but lethal. You are struck, ripped apart, and pieced together. It hurts, not because he’s touching you but because this will end, and the two of you will return to your lives. He is not meant for you. This cannot be more than just the evening.

Lady Sheku meant well by losing, but this might be too much.

Boba drops his hand and plucks the credit case from the desk. “When we return, you’ll sit with me. In my lap.”

His tone is assertive. Boba isn’t asking, and that stirs something inside you. While you like this, you also want to push back. But you’re not quick enough in your response. Boba points in your direction, chastising before you even get a word out.

The two of you stare each other down before Boba curls his finger in and presents his open palm. It’s an invitation instead of an order. While Lady Sheku needs to mind her business, Boba is the man that haunts your dreams. Every interaction with him is a memory that sticks to you like syrup.

Slowly, you extend your own hand, slipping it into his offered palm.

Boba’s hold is gentle as his fingers encase your hand. You allow yourself to be led from the room, to be escorted to a large booth tucked into a private corner. From here, Boba can see the rest of Tranquil Sands. It’s private yet strategic, a habit of any good bounty hunter.

Placing the container of credits on the table, Boba takes a seat in the booth. The cushions are soft and wide. The table in front of it is low to the ground. Boba never let’s go of your hand. He keeps you close, drawing you into his lap.

You fit perfectly there, and the naturalness is startling.

Boba keeps one arm around your lower back for support, his broad hand planted firmly on the curve where your hip and upper thigh meet. You’re tucked against him, leaning into the crook of his arm, one hand resting on his armored chest. With his other hand, Boba guides your legs over his thighs.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks, that same hand running up your thigh, parting fabric until he’s touching bare skin.

“Yes,” you reply softly, a shiver running through you from the contact.

Boba’s answer is a gentle grunt as his hand on your thigh tightens. It’s a possessive hold, and you don’t entirely mind. Around you, patrons move about. Many don’t even glance your way, entirely preoccupied with their own endeavors.

It isn’t long before two Gamorreans enter Tranquil Sands. Between them is a woman in an all-black body suit with cape and cowl. The only visible part of her are her eyes which glow a subtle shade of purple.

“Boba,” she says on her approach.

Boba Fett only nods toward the container of credits. She is swift, fetching the credits and leaving without another glance at you or Boba.

After a few moments of silence, Boba adjusts, and it only draws you closer to him. “Are you upset with me, cyar’ika?”

The question surprises you. “Why would I be upset?”

“Why would you not be? Didn’t ask what you wanted.”

You snort. “Did you even consider what I wanted?”

The answer comes automatically. “No. I want you. And I saw an opportunity,” he says. “But you know that.”

You do know. You’ve known for over a year now and so does everyone else. Whenever Boba walks in, Lady Sheku and all the workers immediately look at you with amusement on their faces. Boba might not be overt in his attentions, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t gone unnoticed.

“What’s your plan, Boba? To lure me in? To convince me I should be yours?” You’re pushing him, feeling bold, but how could you not be? You’re in his lap, almost straddling him, and Boba’s hands are everywhere even though they’ve hardly moved at all.

Boba inclines his head. “You’re already mine. Always have been.”

“You don’t own me,” you murmur.

Boba’s silence is deafening, and you have no idea what it means. You desperately wish you could see his face, to look into his eyes and glimpse even a semblance of understanding. That silence is all there is because the matter is done the moment the doors of Tranquil Sands open.

Boba is all business after. He shifts you out of his lap, having you sit beside him instead like a pretty thing on display. But Boba keeps one hand on your inner thigh as he conversers, never removing it even when you adjust against the cushions.

Strangely, Boba never removes his helmet. Whenever he comes to retrieve Jabba’s payment, Boba almost always removes his helmet in front of you. But that has always been in a private setting behind closed doors. This is out in the open.

He orders food and drink, offering it to his guests as much as he offers it to you, and yet taking none for himself. You remain quiet, listening attentively but mostly staying out of it. Boba doesn’t ask for your input, and the various individuals seem to understand that you are off limits.

It isn’t until Tatooine’s suns begin to descend that Boba shifts gears.

“We’re going upstairs.”

Upstairs. The only thing upstairs are rooms. Rooms to sleep. To rest. To—

Your heart thunders in your chest. Excitement rushes in along with an underlying nervousness you can’t entirely place. It’s not geared toward Boba. He’d never hurt you, never push himself on you. No. This nervousness is a questioning of whether or not he’ll accept your advances if you give them.

It's a silly thing to question. Boba likes you. He’s smitten, willing to pay an entire month’s worth of protection money just to have the chance to be with you.

Boba stands and presents his hand. You take it, and he helps you to your feet, but he doesn’t drag you to the lift. He stays right there, towering over you, his free hand grasping your waist.

“What is it?” you ask, gaze roaming over the room in one quick sweep before returning to Boba.

“Do you want this?”

You blink, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Boba?”

“Do you want this?” he repeats. “With me?”

When you don’t answer right away, Boba gently squeezes your waist. “Give the word and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Boba—”

“If you wish to leave, tell me now.”

You swallow. “Does this mean I can’t go if I change my mind?”

Boba’s chest heaves. “No. You can always go. You can always walk away. I won’t stop you.”

Even though Boba played Sabacc with Lady Sheku in order to possess you, he is still giving you a choice. This is up to you. Boba has already made it clear what he wants. All you need to do is accept him, or walk away.

“I don’t want to go,” you breathe, knowing with these words you’ve changed your future forever.

There is no going back. No reversal. You are confirming what you already know and what he’s suspected. You want him.

Boba’s hand slips away from your waist only to travel downward to grasp the back of your thigh. This one touch makes you inhale sharply, and the soft chuckle Boba makes sends heat straight to your core.

“My mesh’ika,” he croons.

Boba keeps using these words you don’t know. You can take a guess as to their meaning. He’s used them before but only in private. Only when you’ve allowed him a passing touch before you depart.

Now, with his hand massaging the back of your thigh, the meaning is clear to you. And this place is far too public for such affection.

“Upstairs,” he murmurs, his voice so soft you’re surprised the voice receiver in the helmet even picks it up.

Boba’s hand disappears from your thigh, leaving an emptiness behind. You long to draw him back to you and indulge in his touch.

The ascent to the room is sluggish, and yet with a blink, you’re at the door. You cling to Boba’s armor-clad arm as the door slides open, and Boba guides you into the dark. The moment the two of you cross the threshold, a lamp near the window clicks on.

This is one of Tranquil Sands’ suites.

You enter into a small sitting area with a lounge sofa and low table. The curtains are closed, keeping out the light of Tatooine’s suns. To the right are sliding double doors. They stand open, revealing a large bed. The door to the bathroom is through there but you cannot see it from where you’re standing.

Boba releases your hand, and you are reluctant to let him go. He presses a few buttons on the control panel near the door. More lights turn on. It is dim—almost intimate—and all you want to do is reach out to him.

This is just for the evening. Only for the night. Then it’ll be over. You will return to your books, and Boba will be the vicious bounty hunter he has always been. He will come for Jabba’s payment, and you will hand it over, never meeting until the time to return rolls around again.

Hesitantly, you stride forward into the middle of the room. With hands clasped in front of you, you turn in Boba’s direction, only to find him within arm’s reach.

The two of you stare at each other, not speaking, hardly breathing.

With an aching slowness, Boba reaches up with both hands, clasping the sides of his helmet. You hear the hiss of the seal releasing, and then it’s gone, revealing his face. This is not a surprise. It’s no gut-punch. Boba’s face is one you’ve seen before, but this is not a business exchange. This is personal.

Boba moves past you and gently sets his helmet down on the table. He is right there, and when he straightens to undo his leather gloves, your hand finds his bicep, resting where there is no armor. His dark eyes swivel towards you, and you have the urge to run your fingers through his hair. It looks so soft and inviting—just long enough to give it a little tug.

He removes one glove and then the other, tossing them onto the table next to his helmet. Your eyes track every movement, the casualness of Boba’s undressing a mesmerizing dance. You cannot look away.

“You’re staring, cyar’ika,” muses Boba, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You cough, and discreetly check for drool. “Want me to stop?” you shrug. “I can do that?”

“No.” Boba’s tone startles you, but it is his hand on the back of your neck that truly makes your stomach flip. He drags you against him, and your hands instinctually rise, pressing against his chestplate.

His dark gaze is sharp. Piercing. “Draw me a bath, cyar’ika.” Your lips part and Boba’s gaze drops momentarily before returning to your eyes. His grip on the back of your neck tightens a bit before releasing.

“Go,” he says, voice husky and rough. “Before I get dirt on that pretty dress.”

Heat rushes up your spine and flares hot in your cheeks. Pressing a hand to your burning face, you quickly enter the bathroom. Built into the wall is a massive tub. It’s all smooth, clean lines and easily fits two.

“Kriffing hell,” you murmur at the ceiling. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

Shaking your hands out at your sides to release some of the giddy nervousness, you reach for the small panel in the wall. Hot water begins to emerge from the faucet. Pressing a few more buttons bring forth an aromatic aroma, and the water starts to turn sudsy.

It looks inviting. Entirely heavenly.

Water is a heavily sought-after resource on Tatooine, but Lady Sheku has connections, often transporting water in from off world. It’s expensive but it supplements what can be purchased on Tatooine.

You pause, hearing soft footsteps. Turning, your eyes widen, and the heat that you banished from your cheeks returns. You quickly look away as Boba’s nude body brushes past you and steps over the edge of the tub to slide into the water.

Boba sighs heavily, and the sound goes straight to your sex. It’s contentment and satisfaction, and you want to know if that’s what he sounds like when he’s buried deep.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” you say, keeping your gaze averted. But as you turn to leave, Boba reaches out, his wet hand grasping your wrist.

“You’ll stay,” he commands, releasing your wrist to tap the side of the tub. “Right here. Where I can look at you.”

Slowly, you ease down on the edge of the tub. It’s not entirely uncomfortable. It is wide and flat, large enough for you to sit without sliding onto the floor and into Boba’s lap. You place one hand behind you, and one on your knee to keep balance. Boba submerges himself a bit more, the water coming up to the middle of his chest.

“You look lovely today,” he murmurs, gaze roaming up and down your body in appreciation.

“Thank you,” you reply. “Am I not lovely to you every time you see me?”

Boba smirks. “You are. And even when I don’t see you.”

“Oh,” you whisper, fingers playing with one of the gauzy, black strands of fabric.

It’s loose enough that the material spreads out and hangs toward the floor, revealing plenty of bare leg. Boba’s hand is nearby but not touching. Yet his fingers flex like he wants to touch you but is resisting the urge to do so.

“Join me,” he rasps, those fidgeting fingers forming a fist.

“Is it a command or an ask?” It doesn’t really matter if he’s asking or demanding. Sliding into that warm water with him is a desire you don’t want to resist. Will you straddle his lap, sitting face to face? Or will Boba want you to recline against him, back pressed against his chest?

Boba’s dark gaze is unmoving when he speaks. “It’s what you wish it to be.”

You swallow and sit up straighter. “Look away.”

Boba laughs, and runs his hands through his hair. It sticks up at an odd angle and you giggle.

“Fine,” he agrees, glancing at the wall, whistling to himself.

Slowly, you stand. You partially give Boba your back as you slip one strap over your shoulder and then the other. You loosen the band at your waist, and then the dress is on the ground, a dark pool of fabric at your feet.

Glancing over your shoulder, you find Boba still turned away, but he’s stiff, almost rigid. That is when you notice your reflection. It is blurry, mostly an outline, but it’s clear that you’re nude.

Turning quickly, you cover your breasts and step into the tub at an odd angle to hide yourself. It’s silly, since you’re already taking this leap, but it’s natural to want to hide yourself. This is new. Different. While you’ve always liked him, this is beyond anything the two of you have engaged in.

A few stolen kisses in a backroom means nothing compared to this.

As you start to sink down, Boba’s head turns. Your gazes lock, and then he’s reaching for you, bringing you against him. He does bring you to a straddling position. Boba guides you around until you’re sitting in his lap, back pressed against his chest and head resting on his shoulder.

The water hardly covers your breasts.

“I want to see all of you,” he murmurs in your ear even as his hands run up and down your thighs, waist, and hips under the water.

The motion stirs the water, revealing your breasts to him. Boba groans against your throat as one of your hands reaches back to rub the back of his neck. While keeping one hand on your thigh, Boba gently cups one breast, lightly pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

Your breasts have never been overly sensitive, but Boba’s touch is immense. All-consuming. You’ve never reacted to anyone’s touch like this.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. Boba’s hand beneath the water grasps the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “All mine.”

Boba’s lips trail over your neck and then the curve of your jaw near your ear. You turn your head just enough to look at him, and all trepidation you might have held vanishes. This man is enamored. In rapture.

“Let me kiss you, cyar’ika.”

But you do not let him. Instead of saying yes, instead of agreeing, you’re the one who responds with action. Your lips connect with Boba’s, and it seems to surprise him. At first his lips do not react, but then he’s answering back, kissing deeper. Seeking. Wanting to taste.

You open for him, and Boba moans, his hand upon your breast sliding upward to grasp the front of your throat in a possessive hold.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, cyar’ika?” murmurs Boba against your lips. “Do you know how much I’ve craved you?”

“I thought we were bathing,” you reply, and he smiles. It’s so sweet. Soft. Something you’ve never seen on his face.

“You’re right,” he croons. “We are.”

You’ve never been cleaner. Boba keeps you reclined against him as he scrubs and strokes every inch of your body. He is gentle the entire time, pebbling your throat and lips with soft kisses that has your pussy clenching around nothing.

When you’re refreshed, Boba hands over control, and you are just as thorough. You adjust positions, straddling him. Boba wiggles further into the water, leaning back entirely, one arm splayed across the back of the tub while the other rests under the water where it rests on your thigh.

Boba never looks away. His gaze is always on you. There is a dreamy, happy quality to it, like he can’t believe you are truly here with him.

“You’re clean,” you say, twisting out the excess water from the handcloth. You set it aside just as Boba releases the valve for the water to drain.

You start to stand but Boba grabs your waist, drawing you back into his lap. Words begin to form on your lips, but Boba is quick, silencing whatever you wanted to say with a kiss.

“Can I take you to bed?” he asks, drawing back enough to stare into your face.

The water is quickly disappearing, and the sudden rush of air prickles your skin.

“You can have whatever you want,” you answer, and Boba’s grip on your waist tightens.

“And what if I want you on your back, hm?” he prompts. “Would you spread you legs for me?” He leans in for another kiss. This one is chaste. Quick. “Would you let me in, cyar’ika?”

Would you let me in, cyar’ika?

You have to bite back a moan. You’ll give this man anything.

“Dry me off and find out.”

With a swiftness that has you grabbing on to the back of Boba’s neck, he manages to lift you and step onto the bathroom floor in open fluid movement. He holds you in the air like that, and you pretend not to notice his hard as it presses against your inner thigh.

Slowly, Boba eases you to the ground, but he doesn’t let go. Keeping one arm around your waist, Boba snags a towel from the shelf. It is clean and white. Freshly laundered. He drapes it over your shoulders and you find the edges, bringing it in. Boba grabs another for himself.

You start with your ears and throat, then the rest of your body before drying your hair enough that it’s slightly damp. Boba is much faster than you, and he does nothing to help, only watches. Admires. It’s far too intimate, and you keep glancing away, smiling like a kriffing idiot.

“What?” you laugh, and Boba returns the smile.

He gently grabs hold of the towel and you release it to him, leaving you completely bare. The towel falls from his hands, and then Boba is grasping your hips, walking you backward into the dimly lit bedroom.

Boba comes to a halt when the backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed. Keeping one hand on your hip, his other hand grasps the side of your throat, titling your head back a bit as his mouth meets yours in a searing kiss.

Heat is everywhere. It burns beneath your skin, soaring outward until you’re pushing up onto your toes in an attempt to draw closer. Boba is all eagerness. All hunger. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pause for air. He is devouring and you want to be consumed by him.

“I want to taste you,” he says between kisses.

When he leans in for more, you pull back, giggling. “You are.”

“No,” he replies, voice growing husky. “I want to taste you here.”

On here, Boba slips his hand between your legs, fingers gently parting your sex to revealing your slickness. The moment his fingers make contact, Boba growls, and it is a needy sound.

“That is what I want,” he reiterates, and you will not tell him no.

“I told you, Boba. You can have whatever you want.”

Boba withdraws his hand from between your legs. “On your back, love.”

You ease down onto the bed and then lean back on your elbows as you scoot away from the edge. Boba’s fingers brush against the tops of your knees before sliding between, easing your legs apart, guiding them wide so that he can move between them.

His rough, calloused hands are soft brands against your inner thighs. They slide upward toward your sex, only to purposefully pass over it instead to grasp waist and stomach.

Boba adjusts, leaning onto one elbow, his other hand roaming across your skin.

He studies the curve of your hip, the softness of your belly, the places where you think there is too much and not enough. Boba worships it all, leaving nothing untouched.

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod.

Boba’s thumb hovers at your entrance where your slickness pools. He draws some up to your clit. Presses. Swirls. It’s a sharp tug. A sudden burst.

You gasp, back arching slightly as Boba continues to play with that sensitive bump. His fingers aren’t even inside you. And you are falling apart, fingers clawing at his shoulders, hips flexing into his touch as your body clenches. The moan is choked, suppressed. Boba grins against your thigh.

“Good. That’s it, cyar’ika,” he purrs, wrist rotating, his middle finger sliding through your wetness.

He finally adds a finger, begins pumping. Your hips buck, and Boba meets with a thrust of his hand. His thumb on your clit is relentless and it isn’t long before you’re clenching again, this time mewling softly, trying hard to relax but failing completely.

That is when Boba descends. That is when he finally takes his taste.

Boba parts your pussy with a slow swipe of his tongue. He swirls up, teasing your clit with just the tip, and that is enough to make your shake, for your back to come off the bed. Without thought, your hands seek him. One slides through his hair, tangling, twisting, anchoring yourself as your hips roll against his mouth, riding his face.

Boba sucks your clit into his mouth and it’s over. You hear yourself but it seems so distant, like you’re falling into a deep hole. Your thighs clench like you’re trying to trap his head between them, but Boba is strong. Insistent. He keeps spread, forcing you wide again to take his tongue without resistance.

You say his name until your voice grows hoarse and you skin is tingling in the afterglow of pleasure.

Around you, the bed sinks as Boba shifts forward, pushing off his knees, crawling over you until the two of you are face to face. Your chest heaves as you gaze up at the man you’ve always held at a distance. Boba’s lips are slightly parted. In the small slashes of light, you glimpse the glossy shine on his lips.

You reach up and run your thumb across that mess only for Boba to suck that digit into his mouth, wiping you clean of yourself.

Boba is so close, and you arch your neck, seeking his mouth. He gives you what you’re seeking, and everything in you melts, becoming one with his warmth. Your hands slide up his chest and then back down, nails grazing over his skin.

He breaks the kiss, panting. “I need you.”

“You can have me.” It’s a wonder that you’re even able to speak.

Pushing up onto one elbow, Boba grasps your wrists, and then you’re rolling on to your stomach, Boba’s weight heavy at your back. Your arms are above your head, pinned there. With a quick adjustment, Boba shifts your wrists to one hand while the other runs up and down your back in a gentle caress.

“Mesh’la,” he murmurs, and you shiver.

Slowly, Boba releases your wrists, but you do not move them. You hold them above your head, awaiting Boba’s next move. Both hands join, moving lower and lower until his hands are full of you. He squeezes your ass and mutters something under his breath that you’re unable to hear.

Boba’s hands fall to your hips. They adjust, bringing them up off the bed a bit. But Boba does not part your legs. Instead, he tests your entrance with a single finger.

Grunting, he withdraws, and then reaches up, snagging one of the pillows.

“Lift your hips,” he commands. You comply, and Boba slips the pillow beneath your lower abdomen. “Better,” he growls, hands returning to your ass.

The bed sinks as he shifts, and again, Boba does not part your legs. He adjusts the pillow some more, arching your hips a bit higher. His hands slide down to the backs of your thighs, pausing near your pussy. With a little pressure, Boba spreads you a bit, but it’s not nearly as much as you expected.

You push up onto your forearm, twisting a bit to look over your shoulder.

Boba’s gaze meets yours just as the head of his cock finds your entrance. He holds himself there, and then thrusts forward.

You cry out, not from pain but from pure pleasure. The stretch is intolerable but so kriffing good you nearly come undone right then.

Boba retreats, and then returns, each roll of his hips giving you more and more of his cock.

“You’re so kriffing tight, cyar’ika,” he groans, feeding you more until your toes curl from the intrusion.

Boba pauses when he bottoms out, holding himself there as his hands slide up and down your back in a soothing caress.

“How do you feel?” The question is one of genuine concern.

You’re no longer leaning on your forearm. You’ve collapsed, cheek pressed against the bed. “Good, Boba. I’m good.”

Boba rolls his hips again, and the slow drag has you clenching. The whimper that accompanies it arrives unbidden, but it is only one of many.

His thrusts begin slow before becoming steady, each one a claiming. Boba drapes himself over you, his forehead resting against the back of your head, and his hands planted on either side of you. Boba uses that as leverage to drive into you over and over.

You are pinned beneath him, taking everything, and it is delicious. You don’t want him to stop. You want to be claimed. To be possessed. To be known by him.

Boba’s breath is hot against your neck, and the words he mutters are of a language you don’t know. He might be cursing you, praising you, or praying to gods you know nothing about.

It isn’t until Boba’s thrusts become quick and erratic that his mind seems to return to you. Keeping one hand anchored to the bed, Boba uses his other hand to tangle his fingers in your hair. Without hurting you, he turns your head just enough to look into your eyes.

“Let me come inside you, cyar’ika.”

“Boba,” you groan as he grinds his hips against you.

“Please,” he begs.

Boba slows his thrusts, awaiting your answer.

You start nodding, but Boba shakes his head like it isn’t enough. “I need words. I need to hear you say it.”

He lightly tugs on your hair and you moan your answer loudly. “Yes.”

Boba’s grip on your hair releases, and your head drops back to the bed. In his end, Boba is relentless, a pounding pace that drives you into the bed. Your fingers claw at the bedding, everything in your clenching and unclenching, your clip rubbing against the pillow until your own release bursts like stardust.

Boba groans against your throat, and then he stills, pressing down with all his weight, burying himself to the hilt. You don’t even care how messy this will be. You only care about how his arms start to go around you. How he completely drapes himself across you like a blanket. How he whispers your name between kisses to the space between your shoulder blades.

Adjusting some of his weight off of you, Boba grasps the front of your throat, and then you’re looking at each other.

“How many more times can I have you tonight?” he muses, lips curling into a smile.

“We should take what we can. Before we depart. Return to our lives,” you answer.

“You think I’m letting you go, cyar’ika?” counters Boba.

You shift to see him better. “Isn’t that what has to happen?”

Boba’s mouth forms in a wide grin. “No. You might return to your books, but when I come calling, I expect to be treated like this.” He lightly thrusts, and you whimper. He’s growing hard again. Needy.

“Boba,” you groan, arching into him.

He kisses your shoulder. Kisses the dip and then your throat. “I’m never letting you go, cyar’ika.”

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acatalystrising · 1 month ago

Text

I’m back!

I know it’s been a while. 2024 hasn’t been kind to me, and my creative spark just wasn’t there. But I’ve had so many stories I’ve wanted to write, and as always, Boba has been there as a comfort character to get me through. So, now as the year is drawing to a close, I want it to end better than it started…with new content!

I’m currently writing the next chapter of Moth to a Flame, but in the meantime, here is something entirely new, the first chapter in The Way That You Were! I hope you enjoy!

(Also, @daimyosprincess I finally wrote this! So sorry for the delay 😅)

Pairing: Boba Fett x (F)Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Trigger warnings: Injuries, blood, emotional distress, abuse, capture

Series synopsis: A desperate bounty crash-lands on Tatooine and seeks sanctuary in the palace, only to discover the greatest bounty hunter of all time rules from its throne. Will she find mercy, death, or something more?

Ch 1 - These Burning Sands, Your Scarred Hands

“I’ve found, in my experience, that the most desolate place can bring healing. Wastelands can flourish. Heartbreak can mend, and love begin anew. Even the mighty desert can once again bloom.”

You didn’t remember the crash, only that you’d awoken to the charred wreckage of your ship, blood stained clothes, and the acidic tang of grief heavy on your tongue.

You honestly didn’t know how you survived, tangled in the debris. Part of you wished you didn’t.

Despite this, you kept going.

Forcing yourself to climb from the wreckage, even as your vision spun. Searching it for anything you could salvage, finding very little. Realizing that it had nothing left for you, and you’d hopefully have better luck moving on. Ironically, your past was also something better left behind, just as smoldering as the husk of metal you were abandoning.

You weren’t familiar with this planet, one your ship had registered as Tatooine before it had plunged into the atmosphere, one that boasted the biggest desert you’d ever seen. In fact, you wondered if the entire planet was just one massive, windswept wasteland.

Your pain had reduced to a pounding headache, nearly distracting you from the burn of muscles unaccustomed to traversing a desert’s shifting terrain. It couldn’t distract you from the deep gash in your shoulder, out of your reach, the extent of the damage unknown. There was no point in staying with the ship, not when you needed to disappear. You were alone, wounded, and running out of options.

There were too many hunters after you, but perhaps you could disappear on a planet as vast as this one. Maybe the sands would be your savior, instead of your doom.

You peered up at the setting suns, a fierce burning duality sinking behind the cresting dunes. They made the sand shimmer, and for a moment, you could have sworn the fiery light transmuted the sand to gold. Despite your circumstances, it was beautiful, but your awe didn’t last. It would be dark, soon. Despite your lack of desert experience, you knew it would only grow more dangerous once night fell.

You had to find shelter, quickly.

You stopped on the sloping hill of a dune, boots sinking in the sand, and cast a glance back the way you’d came. The faint dark trail of smoke from your crash was still evident on the horizon, cutting through the sky like an ugly wound. You hoped you’d made a far enough distance away, even though you had absolutely no idea where you were going.

Your crash was a beacon…one that would draw far too much attention.

Sighing, you crested the dune with clenched fists, blood trickling down your arm and dripping into the sand, blossoming like a macabre flower. Great. You were no doubt leaving an easy trail that even the most inexperienced welp of a bounty hunter could track. You didn’t want to think of the experienced ones.

Your vision blurred, and you blinked, panic finally, truly, setting in. You were losing blood, moving too slowly, and rapidly running out of time.

You turned your quivering gaze ahead, eyes wearily scanning the horizon, falling on a massive building that seemed cut from the rock itself. It was tan, like the sands, sporting a domed roof that was a stark contrast to the jagged rocks surrounding it. And judging from the lights you could see from within, it was occupied. You found yourself trudging in its direction, despite your reservations.

You would die out here, injured and alone, and finding shelter was your best option.

You only hoped it wouldn’t cost your life, but at this point, you had nothing to lose.

The building towered above you like a waiting beast, maw-like gate slowly opening wide with a grinding roar.

You felt every bit like a mouse entering a trap, a deep fear setting in your chest when two armed Gamorrean guards approached, eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. You doubted they saw you as much of a threat - your weary frame and bloodstained clothes surely made quick work of that assumption. As you suspected, they merely grunted, gesturing for you to follow.

I’m doomed, you thought, as you stepped further into the dark cavernous maw beyond.

The sand at your feet was cool, and judging by the sheer size and craftsmanship of the hewn stone around you, this wasn’t a mere home. It was a fortress.

Perhaps the mouse had jumped right into the loth cat’s stomach.

The halls were long and narrow, but surprisingly well lit. You didn’t see any signs of filth or decay, which was astounding for a place in such a seemingly seedy area, but you knew first impressions weren’t everything. Anxiety twisted deep in your gut when you heard a bark of raucous laughter somewhere ahead, every alarm ringing in your frazzled mind. The Gamorreans walked on, framing you between them, a silent reminder that you were trapped. But you’d come here willingly, perhaps foolishly, seeking shelter - and you didn’t have anyone to blame for whatever would happen to you then yourself.

Even if you’d never intended to land on this maker-forsaken planet.

Despite that fact, you felt fear creep down your throat when you reached a set of downward sloping stairs, a multitude of voices echoing from within the chamber.

Your knees locked up, but the Gamorrean behind you gave your shoulder a nudge with a grunt. Pain flared to life, and you winced, nearly tripping down the steps as you entered the room, heart hammering so loudly in your ears you thought it would burst.

Your eyes swept the room, which was filled with all manner of ilk, and your heart sank even further upon realizing very, very quickly, that many, if not all, were likely bounty hunters. Your gaze was pulled to the center of the room as if gravity itself demanded your attention, and your world ground to a screeching halt. Only one thought managed to escape your panicked mind before terror and recognition seized your heart.

You should have let yourself bleed out in the desert.

Maker, I am such an idiot.

An idiot who was about to die. A fool who had gone out on a limb, one last ditch effort, to survive. Instead of being rewarded for your final act of desperation, fate had decided to give you the most cruel, ironic end possible.

Because sitting before you, impossibly broad frame sprawled on a carved throne like the very Galaxy was his footstool, was none other than the notorious king of the very beasts you’d been trying to outrun.

Boba Fett.

His dark green helmet tilted down at you, the angle harsh and predatory, torchlight flaring like shattered glass on his visor as a terror unlike anything you’d felt before settled its way into the pit of your stomach.

You were a dead woman walking.

There would be no escape. The Gamorrean guards stood behind you, narrow eyes fixed on your every move. A dark clad woman with a deadly rifle leaned against the dais, gaze sharper than a vibroblade boring into you. Everyone fell silent, still, as if made of stone. Not stone, you realized, simply pieces in a larger clockwork puzzle - all here to serve him. You were trapped, hopeless in Fett’s clutches, merely waiting for the hunter to strike.

A hunter who should have been dead.

He leaned forward, muscles rippling even under all that armor and cloth - unseen gaze undeniably focused on you. Maker, he was more frightening then any of the stories could ever capture - a warrior in every right, someone who didn’t have to boast of his power or even show it.

He simply was.

A deep voice spoke, carrying a dialect that was foreign to you, one you instantly thought was both alluring and deadly, even as you also noted it was coming from the very person staring you down.

“What,” the tone was all thunder and calculated coolness as he flicked a small projector to life on his gauntleted wrist, displaying a listing with your face for all to see. “Do we have here?”

Stars above, you were doomed.

Chills ran down your spine. Your lips parted, but no words came, as if your own mind conspired against you. Fear was all too familiar a paralysis, doom settling deep in your bones. What could you say to him? What even was the point? You knew the stories. Tales larger than life spread across the Galaxy of this man, this legend now in the flesh before you. Begging would be pointless. Hoping for mercy, even less so.

But kriff, you hadn’t survived this long to simply give up, either.

The Gamorreans grunted behind you, and a meaty hand shoved your wounded shoulder, knocking you to your knees. You yelped in pain, blood trickling down your back in rivulets, the cool tile beneath you the only thing grounding you from your agony. You looked back up, sweat beating your forehead, finding Fett’s unseen gaze tilted down, watching you in silence. Waiting. Expecting.

You were, after all, in his court.

A heavy silence had fallen, as every hunter watched your exchange with bated breath. Surely they wondered if Fett would claim your bounty, or if you were up for grabs. Terror settled deep in your chest, and you winced, pain radiating from your wounded shoulder. Fett suddenly shifted forward, and your words bubbled from chapped lips, as if sensing your impending doom.

“I…I seek sanctuary, my…” you blinked in confusion, wondering what honorific would work best, “my lord. I’m aware I have a bounty. I…”

Your world spun, everything fading to a muted blur. You could barely keep your focus on the armored figure looming above you. Shit, you’d lost too much blood. You tried to keep your head high, your quivering body fighting against your every move. If Fett didn’t kill you, you’d surely die first. Either way, you were doomed to die alone, among strangers, in the den of the very wolves you’d sought to escape.

His helmet tilted to the side in a gesture you could almost interpret as curiosity, remaining silent. Leaving you to desperately amble on.

You swallowed hard, clenching your hands to fists. You saw your reflection in his black visor; a pathetic image of a broken, bleeding, scared woman. A shell of the fierce warrior you once were.

“I crashed in the desert,” you tried to continue, you really did, even as your body grew oddly warm, exhaustion and blood loss taking their toll. “I was…betrayed. I didn’t…”

Your knees shook, fresh blood dripping freely. Several of the hunters amongst the crowd shifted closer to you, their eyes sharp, hungry. Kriff, they were like sharks, drawn to the blood you spilled. Interestingly, Fett’s helmet flicked their way, as if in a silent warning, and they quickly backed off without a single complaint.

You didn’t have the time to process the action.

Your vision flickered, as if a light switch had cut off and on, and the last thing you saw was a swirl of green and red hovering over you before darkness mercifully took over, and you collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

“Want me to put her in a cell, boss?” Fennec’s voice was low, calm, in Boba’s ear. “She’s garnering too much attention.”

Boba deigned a response, too focused on the unconscious woman before him, your bedraggled state, and the blood staining his floor. You were near death, that he could determine, but that wasn’t the only thing that drew his intrigue.

Strung around your neck, just peeking out from under your shirt, was a mandalorian necklace. And not just any necklace, but the very mythosaur sigil he bore. He generally didn’t give a damn about Mandalorians. They were a stubborn lot, fiercely independent. On that, he supposed they were similar, and that was exactly why they didn’t get along. That was, until Din. Their interactions had brought back memories of his father, of a past he’d long been haunted by. Perhaps, in some ironic twist of fate, that past was still revealing itself in new, unexpected ways.

You’d come here for sanctuary, knowing you had a bounty, which clearly indicated you hadn’t known where you were, or that you’d stumble upon him. Judging by your shocked expression, you’d clearly recognized him, but he doubted you’d known he was alive.

There were enough reasons to ask questions, at least, before final judgement.

“No, Fennec.” Boba kept his voice low, for her alone to hear. “Take her to the medical droid. Give her a room, keep it locked and guarded.”

“Hmm. Almost hospitable.” Fennec’s angular brow lifted, but she didn’t press further. “To what end?”

Boba found himself looking back down at you, an emotion he could almost interpret as concern flaring in his chest. Something about your broken, bloodied form twisted in his stomach like a knife, and he sighed, clenching his gloved hands to fists.

“I have some questions first.”

“Jaceyn!”

The alarms blared like sirens in your ears as your ship spiraled out of control. Lights swirling, screams echoing, panic overriding common sense as the escape pods ejected, the crew leaving you to your doom. Your footsteps pounded down the hall, sweat beading, dripping into your eyes, desperation flooding your chest.

Your ship was crashing, your armor was missing, and your love…

“Jaceyn! Wait!” Your plea flung into empty space like the shrapnel that had torn into your shoulder. Tears blurred your vision as you bolted after him, heart pounding desperately in your chest. “Please…”

A fist connected to your chest, throwing you backward onto the doomed craft. Pain burned through your body like fire as you watched the final pod eject, leaving you to crash to your death.

The damn coward’s back was turned.

The ship spiraled down, down, and down, reducing your world to an agonized blur of pain and confusion, fading until there was nothing left but sand and blood.

Your eyes snapped open, heart pounding like a war drum, sweat drenching your body. You gripped the sheets with panicked gasps, fingers quivering, limbs shaking. Your breaths were ragged, as if from knife-torn lungs.

You were swathed in darkness, and swore you could still taste blood on the back of your throat. Your confusion subsided enough for you to register that you weren’t in the wreckage, but rather, a large bed.

What the…

Panic grew to sheer terror, and even with all your training, you felt your limbs locking up. Where the kriff were you? You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves. You hadn’t lived this long by being stupid, nor would you start to engage in foolishness now. Your gaze swept the room, starting at the far corner, analyzing every detail, cataloguing every potential threat.

You certainly found one when your eyes fell on the same armored figure you’d seen before you’d passed out, that T-visored helm fixed on you with deadly precision.

So, you were still the infamous Boba Fett’s prey. A curse flew from your lips before you could stop yourself, finding yourself wishing you’d bled out in the sands.

“I’ve been called worse.” Fett’s voice was deep, dry, and void of emotion.

Your lips snapped shut, and you instantly went to shift out of the bed and away from him - as far as you possibly could. Your body lurched in pain at the movement, a dull agony cording through your veins. Kriff…you were too wounded to move much, especially to be able to run.

You were hopelessly trapped in his clutches.

“What…” you blinked, swallowing hard as you dared to glare back at his visor. “Did you do to me?”

“You were dying.” His tone was matter of factual, curt. “Needed bacta.”

Now you were even more confused. He was helping you? Surely it was to receive a higher sum of credits for your bounty. You couldn’t fathom a different reason.

“I get it. You wanna fetch a higher sum for me.” You shot him a blank glare despite the fear thrumming in your heart like a living thing. “Sorry I arrived as damaged goods.”

Fett fell silent, and you couldn’t tell for the life of you if he was angry or simply bored. When he finally spoke again, there was little change in his tone, other than what you could only guess was curiosity.

“The mandalorian necklace.” His helmet tilted slightly downward, at your neck. “Where’d you get it?”

You glanced down at your chest, eyes falling on the necklace that was bared freely for him to see. Another curse rushed from your lips. Fett’s helmet tilted to the right. If you were to reveal your true identity to him, a bounty hunter…you were as good as dead. The last remaining vestiges of the Empire would pay handsomely for your blood.

It was as if Fett could read your mind.

“I’ve no interest in turning you in.” He leaned forward, a warning thrumming in his deep tone. “Unless you give me one. Understand?”

You felt yourself nodding, as if your body managed what your brain could not. Judging by the tilt of his helmet, Fett seemed pleased.

“Now.” He leaned back in the chair, arms draped over the armrests, a finger casually tapping the polished metal. “Who are you?”

“I…” you swallowed your fear, pushing it back, already theorizing ways you could escape if he didn’t stick to his word. “I’m a mandalorian. My clan was killed by Moff Gideon. I escaped, but was betrayed…so forgive me if I seem doubtful, but I know your kind. And I know how many credits I’m worth.”

Fett remained silent, his helmet tilting slightly to the left in a gesture that could have nearly been interpreted as curiosity. So, you continued.

“I know I’m wounded, but,” your eyes narrowed at the black, impassive t-visor staring you down, “I won’t go down without a fight.”

“That, I believe, little one,” Fett finally spoke, his voice softer than you’d expected. He slowly stood, as to not alarm you, hands hanging loose at his sides. “You need rest. Stay here, where it’s safe. I’ll ensure it.”

He turned to leave, armor glinting faintly under the light of the moons.

“Why help me?” You watched him pause, heartbeat fluttering, worry that he’d change his mind coursing through your veins.

No one could be trusted.

“My father was mandalorian.” His tone was rougher, more ragged, yet constrained. “I would not wish to see you meet his fate.”

He left without another word, the door shutting behind him, leaving you in confused silence.

Exhausted from your struggles, you collapsed on the bed despite yourself, wondering that dreadful, or nebulous, fate the Galaxy held for you next.

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daimyosprincess · 10 months ago

Text

AN HONEST DAY'S WORK

—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.

—WORD COUNT: 9k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, contractor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖

Divider by the @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery.

While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation.

Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.

It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.

Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.

It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world.

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.

Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter.

With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard.

“See something you like, princess?”

Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”

He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”

The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.

You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.”

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.

Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.

Maybe…

You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head.

“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-”

You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.

The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.

“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”

Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”

If only he knew just how good I can be.

The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.

Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.

Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.

For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.

Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm.

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”

Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?”

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.

“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you?

Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.”

And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.

“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.

Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.

When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb.

You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort.

“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?”

“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook.

Damn him and his honorable ways.

Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”

First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread.

Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”

The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.

In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.

“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”

“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.

You can’t give him your permission fast enough.

Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”

Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?”

Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.

Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.”

An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.

A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit.

Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.

As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.

Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”

As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body.

Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”

In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.

Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.

“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”

“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter.

“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”

Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!

“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”

You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat.

Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…

Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.

You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”

Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”

The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.

Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.

“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”

He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”

You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.”

You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers.

Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.

“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.

As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”

With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”

Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues.

“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”

Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.

“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”

You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.

“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin.

“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?”

You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face.

“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”

As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”

He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.

Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.

“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.

“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.

“Four… three…”

Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.

Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core.

“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.”

His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.

The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.

“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…”

Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.

Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint.

You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.

I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-

“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”

The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light.

The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.

You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.

Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength.

Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.

Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.

The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.

Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.

“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”

“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”

It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.”

He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”

You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?

“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.

“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”

“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…”

Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.

The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?

Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”

Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath.

Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”

You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.”

Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you.

Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”

The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”

He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.”

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.

Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”

Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”

Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment.

“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”

Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw.

Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?

Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.”

He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.

When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.

You pout. “So you have to go?”

“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”

“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”

Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.

#look y'all i wrote a fic about boba fett without calling him daddy for once 🙈#strongly implied though no worries #zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #contractor!boba fett #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #an honest day's work fic

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saradika · 2 years ago

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— WASTELAND, BABY

original inspo | art | playlist | moodboard | headcanons

boba fett x f!reader

Rated E | 40k [complete]

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, canon-typical violence & death, age gap, smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), outdoor sex, hurt/comfort, strangers-to-lovers, sort of slow-burn

The year is 2297, and your days in Vault 113 are spent among the pages of your books - of fairytale romance, of noble knights and handsome princes. That is, until you venture from your Vault, and are immediately thrust into the harsh and cruel world of the Wasteland.

And when you find yourself being rescued by a man in armor - you can’t help but wonder if those beloved stories might just have come true.

i. the fear and the fire of the end of the world

ii. the stench of the sea and the absence of green

iii. the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on

iv. like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass

v. you are unbreaking, though quaking

vi. like the bonfire that burns, that all words in the fight fell to**

vii. be known in it's aching, shown in the shaking**

viii. you’ll gaze unafraid, as they sob from the city roofs**

ix. i'm in love, i'm in love with you**

x. not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do**

series is now complete | reader is ‘new’ to the world so knowledge of the fallout universe is not necessary to enjoy! 💕

#ready to post exactly 1 year after the initial idea 💕#mainly based on Fallout 4 #excited to share this with you #boba fett x reader #fallout au #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett imagine

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echoedcrosshairs · 2 years ago

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The Portrait ~ Boba x F Reader

Plot: You, a daughter of a former bounty captured by Boba Fett, are asked to paint a portrait of the new Daimyo although you despise him you can't help notice the growing tension. 🖤Enemies to Lovers 🖤

Warnings: second person narration, no y/n, suggestive sexual content, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is 41 canonically), lots of petnames (Little one & Old Man), praise kink, one dude being a creep but nothing bad happens; protective Boba moment~> violence, Enemies to lover & sort of slow burn and eventual smut. This is a build up chapter.

Word Count: 6.7k

Masterlist Part Two

🔞no minors allowed🔞

Yes I know I need to go through all of my stories because small typos.

Boba sat in a darkest corner booth of the cantina waiting for his prospect to arrive but something was bugging him about her name it sounded familiar but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it. He had arrived early to avoid being noticed by the crowds who came in during rush hour as Daimyo every knew his face and who he was but he wasn’t in the mood to be bowed at. He had his shawl covering his armor and his helmet tucked in beside him, knowing it’s shine would make him stand out. He brought his drink to his lips letting his eyes wandered to one of the dancers, although she was gorgeous but not gorgeous enough to distracted him with her curves and elegance to notice the prospect walking over. He blinked admiring the features in your face and the way your hips swayed as you walked towards him. He knew the confidence of female hunter when he saw it, alluring yet on the prowl. He let his eyes travel along the entire noting all of the empty concealed pockets.

"Do you two need a minute?" you laughed sitting down looking between him and the dancer, "I would hate to come between a hunter and his prey. She is rather pretty"

"I admire. Nothing more," he said curtly not liking the fact you noticed what he tried to hide, "I am retired," he added, “and to old to be chasing such beautiful creatures.”

"Once a hunter always a hunter. All you traded was one type of bounty for another just with less stakes but that's semantics," you said dismissing it.

Boba studied you carefully curious to what would compel you to so bold and brazen with him, "I take it you are not found of how I run this town?" he asked simply not letting any emotion or interest pace his course rough.

"No your rule is not one with an iron fist nor disappearing villagers in the dead of night or making examples out of petty things. I just do not care for you," you said pulling out your dust covered sketch book flipping the page of him taking away your father and your father's imprisonment in stone, "Getting to the subject. All supplies must be paid for up front, the entire can change once I started however you’re still wearing the same thing so I don’t think that matters and point me in the direction of the nearest lodging. I can begin as soon as the supplies arrive," you said closing the sketch book and returning it to your bag. Your eyes caught swift movement of hands of the person bringing both of you drinks, quickly pulling out the blaster out of your art bag dispatching one fatal shot you caught the tray with the drinks and dumped them both into a flower vase watching them quickly wilt. That’s what I thought, I need this try again later. You sat back down putting the blaster away, "What?" said noticing him staring at you.

"You loathe me yet saved my life, interesting" he said studying the expression on your face, "with such tenacity and efficiency."

"I may have talents outside of painting. I would hate to lose such an important commission before it was complete."

"Indeed," he said finally blinking looking at the corpse being dragged away, "stay at the palace, plenty of food and rooms to choose from," he offered.

"I'll take whatever room is furtherest from you," you grinned pulled the pad with the out the list of supplies and upgrades handing it to him. His leather glove brushing against your hand taking it, it sent a cold shiver up your arm like you just touch death.

"Consider it yours, I'll send someone to pick up all of these premiums," he said in attempt to ignore the fact brushing up against your finger set a jolt of something down him. Fear? Anticipation? She's a daughter of a former bounty and I just invited danger into my house. He stuck out the pad, Fennec taking it from whatever spot she was hiding.

"I should have most of these by sunrise, one or two might take a few extra hours," she said nodding walking off with the pad.

"I know my way to the palace," you said standing up eyeing the women he was looking at earlier, "Enjoy yourself for a change," you let out a small harsh laugh, "Try not to get killed until the commission is completed."

You walked away pretending not to be in a hurry about your heart was racing and your hands were clammy just being around him. He was a dangerous man with a temper for disintegration and being ruthless with how audacious and brash you were talking to him wondered if he had the mind to disintegrate you. What was I thinking? He's a client at this moment, nothing more. Your mind wandered back to that night when he took your father and showed him off to you in carbonite. Your fist balled but you kept walking, you had half the mind just to get off this sand ball but the other half wanted the money and the recognition for something other than the fine marksman the ire had turn you into too. Now he was an aging man, ‘retired’ and you didn't know if it would be worth it if he wasn’t in the game. Yet the muscles in his arms and the coldness in his face suggested he was still ever bit the predator... one who had a disgustingly charming gravel voice and it set a shiver down your spine.

"Are you sure this isn't a conflict of interest, little one?" You heard Boba's voice emerge next to you.

"Being in the same persec as you is a conflict of interest but this is business as you well understand," you couldn't help but notice the annoyance seeping out over his company, although the sound of his voice was better then silence. You didn't bother look at him as you kept walking, "Also don't call me that, I'm not little nor a child," you added.

"Why take the commission?" He asked finally letting his curiosity get the best of him.

"It's you I have to thank for my talents whether it's through a paintbrush or a blaster." you said harshly still not bothering to look at him.

"You could just take the money and go-"

"We both know there's no honor in that, although I don’t think I would ever consider you honorable," your tempter starting getting the best of you, you finally stopped and stared at the T visor helmet forever engrained into your memory, "I am here because I have to prove to myself you are nothing then a man to not some assassin droid in the shadows without a thought or care."

You watched him stand still for a moment before putting his hands clasp behind his back, "You speak your mind without thought of the repercussions or hesitation, I respect that," he said starting to walk again, "I even admire it."

Your lip twitched but you followed after him in silence. You kept nonchalantly wiping your hands on your pants, feeling like an angry fool living in the past but you liked the praise from him sending goose bumps down you.!What the hell is wrong with me? It was a silent trek to the palace after that, thankful you didn't continue making a fool of yourself publicly speaking to him like that in view of those still up at this hour. The doors of the palace swung up, you walked in not bothering to wait for an invitation which was custom on Tatooine.

"Still want the furthest room or do you want to face that fear too," you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Just point me to an available room and show me the location."

Boba lead you to a long hall way more adorned with fineries then the others. He pointed to the door on the left, "Yours," he pointed to the door on the right, "Mine. This way," he said turning back heading towards the throne room.

You scowled following after him realizing where he was taking you, "Of course it's the throne, how pretentious," you mumbled sarcastically taking out the sketch pad.

"Do you have a better idea?" Boba said stopping mid step turning to you, "you are the artist after all, where would you choose in my position."

"Each previous Daimyo has had his done on the throne using it as display of power and fear. If I wanted to prove my rule was different, I would do mine somewhere to show who I am underneath."

He nodded, "Have you ever seen the Tusken huts?"

You were taken back by the question, "Not up close, no."

"Wish to take the Rancor for a run or a speeder?" he asked.

"Rancor," you said stepping up to his obvious challenge to test your nerves further, "It's been a while since I've been on one."

"Let's see if he's awake. So you've ridden one before?" He asked calmly but intrigued.

"Once or twice," you said opting to give the least amount of information knowing he was digging.

Boba smiled knowing it could not be seen, "The riding boots your wearing covered with your pants suggest other wise," he said done playing coy that he didn't notice the little things, "one of your many talents I assume?"

"Perhaps," you trying to keep the irritation out of your voice glancing down at your foot wear that you didn't bother to change when you were done, "or perhaps I wear them because their comfortable and made to take a beating. Perfect for function, comfort and a sleek appearance."

"I'm sure they are, little one," he chuckled watching your face force smoothness on it. He couldn't deny he was interested in you in more ways then one, you were beautiful, complexed and smart but perhaps just as dangerous and unpredictable as he was at that age regretting putting your room so close to his if you had the urge in the dead of the night to unleash vengeance upon him, "How about a bargain?" he asked.

"What are you proposing?" you asked crossing your arms following him into the throne room looking down into the pit.

"Every day you get to ask me one personal question until the portrait is completed."

"What do you get out of it?" You asked because it sounded like you were getting the better end of the deal.

"Hopefully not feed to my rancor in the middle of the night," he said with laugh, the sound made you blink. It was warm and kind, rough like his voice but it reminded you of a shot of whiskey after a long day. He watched your face falter for a second after his laughter, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you enjoy rubbing my fathers fate in my face?" You said boldly, looking down at the sleeping rancor.

"No however I hoped it would prevent you from going down the same path."

"What path would that be?" You asked tartly looking back up at him feeling his eyes linger on you.

"One without the need to follow in his shoes"

You studied him as he studied you, "Funny," you mused.

"Indeed," Boba said realizing it was what set you on this path. He lightly tapping the bars to see if the Rancor would wake but it's soft snores he was out for the evening, "A speeder it is."

"Did you ever find him?" He ask heading towards the main doors.

"What was left of him to find."

"I'm sorry."

Those two words hit a nerve but also shocked you. Your mouth fell agape but you shut it not knowing what to say to the statement, the man who turned your life on it's head... apologizing? You followed him outside to the one speeder realizing you were going to have to share. You wandered if you both were thinking the same thing, how easy it would be to toss each other off.

"I'll ride in the front," he said giving you the upper hand waiting to see what you would do.

"I'm personally holding you accountable if I get hurt due to your driving, old man," you jested trying to hide the anxiousness of climbing on behind him having to hold his waist.

"Then you better hold on, little one. I'm not that old."

"Are you sure about-" you shut your mouth holding him tighter as he took off full speed towards the Dune Sea. You felt the chiseled muscle under his clothing, red subconsciously warmth spreading across your face. It made you sick that you had a reaction to him, the lingering smell of leather, blaster smoke and sweat didn't help. You tighten your jaw reminding yourself of the monster you were clinging too as he enjoyed riding the waves of the sand.

"Having fun?" He chuckled feeling your cheek burning into his back and your arms tighten around him as he took another bigger sand dune. It took a lot of self restraint not to move his hand to yours and tease you but knew you’d probably shoot him if he did.

"Extremely," you said sarcastically thanking the maker when he stopped so you could let go and hop off.

Boba watched you quickly take out your pad to engulfed in your work to notice the approaching Tusken's. The Tusken's recognized him, signing his name. He nodded to them in greeting and preceded to explain why they were out this late, that he would send them food as payment for the disturbance.

"They want to see," Boba said pointing at them.

His voice pulled you out of the composition of art to notice the raiders standing next to him. You gulped, you were not fan of the Tusken's for their violent nature towards outsiders and it didn’t help that the Daimyo was very comfortable around them. You carefully walked towards them showing them the sketch of the hut. They made a noise and you looked to Boba raising an eyebrow.

"Their impressed."

"Thank you," you said nodding your head, they handed you the pad back allowing you to walk back to the spot and continued your art.

"Tribe?" the Tusken signed looking between the two of you

"No, Business."

The Tusken nodded signal for him and his companions to leave. Boba walked over looking of your shoulder watching the hunt come together with the rough sketch of the Tusken in the foreground.

"Done?" He asked watching you look at the pad then up then back down.

"Yes."

"Let's get back to the palace, it's getting late and creatures should be waking up," he said climbing back into the speeder feeing your arms go around his waist again but this time he didn't feel your hands as sweaty against him.

When you both arrived at the palace, Fennec was waiting different sizes canvas. Boba picked a medium sized one, modest yet large enough to be noticed. Fennec kept her eyes on you the whole time.

"Do you want me to have guards outside?" she whispered wondering if you could be trusted.

"Just one discreetly at the top of the hall if it put your mind at ease."

She gave a small nod, "What you think of her?" she asked quietly watching you pull out your sketch pad looking over your work.

Boba just slightly turned his head not to make it obvious, "One of a kind."

Fennec rolled her eyes, "Friend or foe?" she corrected.

"Both," he admitted, "Good Night," he said to Fennec raising his voice back up from a whisper.

You cocked your head to see him heading back inside, you followed after him sketching out a simple speedy portrait of his face. You caught up to him and knocked on his helmet, he turned catching your wrist pulling it away.

"Helmet off," you said pulling your wrist back.

"So bossy, little one."

"So deaf, take it off old man," you said bringing your pencil back to the pad waiting,

He took it off, you examined the lines in his face quickly sketching them out. You were to distracted with the lines to notice his brown eyes boring into you. You were raptured in artist inspiration staring at him, your hands moving seamlessly across the paper noting every healed scar and various shades of brown to gold in his eyes. You finally looked down red creeping back into your face as you sketched his shoulders and the top of his armor.

He looked down at the paper stunned, "May I?" he asked holding out his hand. You stared at what was probably your best rough sketch but handed it to him. "It's absolutely marvelous," he said examining it closing looking at ever scar and remembering the cause to each one, "Your marvelous," he unintentionally whispered.

"I know," you said grabbing the sketch back and walking towards the hall with the bedrooms, flushed and angry. You noticed the bags that you tucked away at the Cantina you were going to go back to retrieve were sitting the end of the bed waiting. You groaned tossing your art bag on the bed and setting the pad on a big wooden ornate vanity. You unpacked the essential clothing you needed and various toiletries. Your head was swimming and knew you couldn't sleep, you grabbed your toilets stepping into the hall. Your face flicked up when you heard footsteps, a single guard walking a catwalk above.

"Where's the bathroom?" You asked watching him walk to the end of the hall and point at a door. He spoke a language you didn't understand, "Thank you! I think,” you called.

You opened the door, staring at Boba in a towel around his waist water still trickling down his pecs and abs. You quickly pulled the door shut, "That didn't just happen."

Your hand quickly shot up to your eyes when you heard the door immediately open "I'm sorry he doesn't speak basic," you said trying to defend yourself.

"Unfortunately it did. Dank Farrik! Next time I'm going to shoot you in the knee cap! I could have still been in the crinking shower!" He called up the guard who was laughing suddenly stilled. He noticed your hand over your eyes, "I'm not that bad to look at," he laughed, "I was just leaving," he said stepping around you, "I'll have them come in and fix the other one tomorrow promptly."

You uncovered your eyes for a moment watching his muscular back as he headed towards his room before quickly getting into the bathroom and shutting the door realizing there wasn't a lock on it. I seriously can't believe that happened. You turned the water up to match how hot your face was. You discarded your clothing, neatly putting them on the what looked to be hand carved precious stone counter. You ran your hand across it, still cool. Maker that had to cost which ever Daimyo a fortune. You shook your head and stepped into the shower hoping the heat would wash away the embarrassment. After spending a fair amount of time scolding yourself clearing your head you stepped out and noticed a couple of credits with a note on your clothing.

"It didn't happen -Fett."

You stared at the forty thousand credits your mouth fell open. I need the money but no way I can accept this much, I'll just slip part of it into his room or something. You quickly got dressed and peaked your head out the door to see if he was there, you breathed out in relief. You groaned the moment you got to your room noticing the small fruit assortment on your bed. I don't know if I'm more embarrassed or he is. You moved the fruit to the vanity and crawled into bed, you laid awake into the night before finally prying yourself up deciding fresh air might help you get situated with your temporary reality. You tucked your blaster in your waist band and found your way to a balcony overlooking the city.

"You too?" you heard Boba's voice behind you.

"Yeah. Are any of the cantinas still open this late?"

"One, you want to go?" he asked.

"I need a drink... or five if I'm going to be sleeping in the room across from you," you admitted.

"Likewise."

Both of you quietly walked into your rooms and changed. You dawned a form fitting dress with a side holster and boots with hidden knife pockets. You opened the door and found him waiting with holding his helmet.

He did his best to keep a straight face over the entire, "Expecting company?" He said pointy looking at the blaster as an excuse to look at your figure before looking back up at you.

"Always except the unexpected, that's how you stay alive in this line a work," you said as you started walking.

"Which is our problem," he said following after you.

"Another bargain perhaps?"

"You don't trust me and I don't trust you, I could simply move into lodging like I wanted too or we could drag the other bed into the others room so we can at least hear it coming," your throat dried up, “because I can’t think of a reason why I would want to trust you. You can only out run your past so long before it catches up.”

"What ever your comfort with, little one-" Boba stopped looking at your dress and then speedier.

"Dank Farrik," you mumbled motioning him to get on, hiking up your dress an indecent amount throwing your leg over it, "Why can't they just make flattering dresses with pants?" mumbled uncomfortably exposed to him.

"You now have plenty enough to get some tailored to your design," he suggested.

"I can't accept all of them for something so little, not even for this predicament," you said, "Got a problem or something that my skills can be used for?"

"I'm sure I can think of something."

He let you get off the speeder first to adjust your dress before getting off himself. You both kept each other arms lengths apart. Heat rose to your face thinking about how close his back had been between your legs. You did not and would not like this man. Eyes on the prize, finish this commission and get the creds then get hell away from this monster. No Boba Fett is a man, this commission is to prove that. He's not the boogie man, at least not any more.

He opened a door letting you go in first, the cantina nearly empty except for a few stragglers. He watched them eye you then back at him with a nod of respect. You walked up to the bar hoping he wasn't going to follow you. You noticed him hovering the door and you smirked.

You slide in the stool seat, "Whiskey, double," you told the bar droid, who dropped a shot glass in front of you and poured it. You slammed it back and tapped for another.

"I'd hate to see you on a bad day," Boba laughed joining her after eyeing everyone again to see if any one was going to make a move. Given most of the men in here were older then him he was pretty confident that no one going to given she also came in here with the Daimyo.

"This?" You said lifting the third shot, "is barely the appetizer for today."

"The same, sir?" The droid asked him.

"Yes."

Both of you sat in silence, while Boba caught up on the shots. He watched you down a couple more, the tipsiness finally started to show. The warm glow of alcohol spread across your face, wondering if you always looked just as a beautiful regardless.

"Might want to slow down, little one," he said eyeing her twitch trying to focus, "You don't look like it would be a fair fight." He watched her pull out a blaster and bull-eye a painting on the wall. He tossed some credits to the droid as an apology, "How did you get so good?" He asked wondering if the circumstances were different he if he could convince you to stay.

"Practicing praying one day I would get a chance to kill you and everyone else associated with my father," you admitted, "I looked for you in every shadow praying and our paths would cross.. then you fell into the Sarlacc a few orbitals ago. I realized if I could not kill you... I could kill the idea of you and prove you don't have to have Fett running in your veins to be good." You felt the few horrified gawking stares at the disrespect and contempt laced words coming out of your mouth. The whiskey had loosened your lips a little further then you intended, "That that counts as your one personal question of the day."

"I do also get one personal question?" He asked taking his last shot knowing he was going to have to drive both of you back.

"It's only fair," you said sliding the shot glass back to the droid, "done." You said cutting yourself off knowing your mouth was only going to get worse. "I may have had to many." You admitted.

You stared into Boba's eyes, counting the shades but the slight double vision made it difficult, "five or six" you muttered pulling your eyes away, "color shades in your eyes. Can't tell right now."

"You're drunk," he laughed, "let's go home, little one."

"Stop calling me that, old man."

Boba scooped you up and put you over his arm like a nap sack, "That's enough out of you." He tried setting you down realizing you were asleep. He carefully set you in his lap holding you with a vice grip as he drove one handed back to the palace. He saw Fennec doing her patrol and shook his head carrying you inside and setting you on his bed. He looked at you debating if he wanted to have Fennec come in and change you but doubted she'd be there right when you woke up to explain. He carefully pulled off the blaster and set it besides you. He grabbed a bantha hide and curled up on his armoire couch, looking at you more time wondering the type of person you were under all of that hurt.

You felt the sun shining in your eyes, Wait my room is opposite of the sun, you took in your surroundings the various artwork on the walls and target practice posters. Fett’s room? You looked over and saw the closet still open with several flight suits. Your head was pounding but you got up feeling for your blaster finding it laying next to you. At least I’m still in my dress. You scurried back to your room munching down some of the fruit arrangement and black melon which helped. You opted for pants discarding all of the dresses back into your bags, Never again. You tapped on the refresher door when there was no reply you opened the door and quickly did your business. Leaving the refresher you found Fennec standing outside your bedroom door.

“Good morning,” you offered opening the door letting her in.

“All of the supplies are in a work room for you, along with food, one hall over with the blue door.”

“Thank you,” you said still trying to dry your hair, “You guys wouldn’t happen to have a shooting range or something?” You asked noticing the rifle slung on her back.

“Two halls over down the stairs behind the orange door.”

“Thank you again,” you said putting the towel around your shoulders.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“No. I don’t know why either of you would need me for anything but if I’m not in this room or the work room, you’ll probably find me in the range.”

She nodded quietly backing out of the room, Friend or Foe? rung through her head. The exchange had been minimal but she didn’t see a gundark waiting to strike which alarmed her further. I’m a good judge of character, but I still can’t answer that question.

Fennec found Boba sitting on the throne, “How was your patrol?”

“A couple hooligans needed a stern talking too, that’s all.”

“She’s awake. She’s been informed the supplies have arrived and where her work room is, inquiring if we hand a range and I told her where to find it.”

“Good.”

“Is something on your mind Boba?” Fennec said noticing the short answers.

“Thinking about something she said. Wondering if my past has caught to me and if this is my undoing.”

“I can get more guards-”

“That won’t stop someone on our level. She no longer seems to want revenge, old man,” he said shaking his head “I want to know what she really wants with the commission.”

“Have you tried asking?” she suggested half heartedly.

“No but that would be my personal question of the day,” he muttered getting up to head to the work room, “summon me when our guest arrive.”

Fennec arched an eyebrow but nodded. You had various sketch pads out using them to sketch quick ideas how the portrait should look using various compositions with shadow and foreground and background ideas along with one or two the rancor was in too.

“Come see what you think” you asked hearing the door open, you looked back to see you were correct that it was him.

“That one.”

“Consider it yours.” You smirked throwing the sentence back at him, tearing the other ones out and set them to the side to dispose of later, “Is there something I can help you with?” you noticing him not leaving.

“What do you have so much riding on this commission?” He asked.

“Pride.”

“That isn’t much an answer.”

“Does it count as your personal question of the day?”

“No.”

“Than that’s the answer you’re going to have to live with,” you said eying him taking a seat.

You don’t know how long it had been until Fennec stuck her head in, “Daiymo, they have arrived.”

Boba excused himself to leave you to your art. The next few days where like that. Quiet. Every day his chair got a little closer until he was sitting next to you. Time to time he would stop to ask you questions about art, your favorite things to draw and other various things about you biding time for you to ask him question. It was a nice little routine as much as you despised him it became to comfortable. You eventually took to sleeping during day and working on the piece during the night as an excuse not to have to see him. You missed the company but every morning Fennec joined you at the range. It was small talk mostly but it helped dull the loneliness. Fennec left earlier this morning to go take care of an errand, leaving you alone in this big palace. Given some of the guards didn’t speak beside your only reprieve was the animal in the pit. You found your way to the Rancor kneeling before it, offering it a large slab of meat staying in routine of the past couple days. You smiled as the Rancor finally accepted your status as below him.

“Where is she? She’s not in her room or painting,” you heard Boba say concerned, stifling your laughter.

“She hasn’t left the palace-” Fennec said looking down hearing you.

“Someone’s losing their touch, old man. You know I ride yet you didn’t look down?” You huffed disappointment, finally getting to scratch the Rancor’s cheek, “I don’t recommend putting leash on me however, I bite.”

“I can’t even pet him,” Fennec said staring, “and I live here,” she muttered.

“Rancor respond to a social hierarchy and as I have no interest in staying, I made sure he knew he was the boss of me. Unlike me, Fennec you scream predator which is why he doesn’t respond to you. You have to be both hunter and prey,” you said standing up and wiping the dirt off your butt, “being a one sided blade only gets you so far, it’s those who are two that survive.”

Boba looked at you noticing how seamless the Mandalorian philosophy rolled off your tongue with such an easy explanation. Boba eyes trailed after you pinning. He was use to every woman throwing themselves at him having his selection of whatever fascinated him that evening. Even as Daimyo women fanned over his power and wealth having to let down several mothers trying to sell off their daughters to him.

“Well, I got my painting in for the evening so I had to wait for that to dry. I’m going to go the Cantina before going to bed,” you stared at the paint you missed on your foreheads and elbows, “after I apparently shower. Again,” you groaned walking off grumbling about paint and how it always ends up in weird places.

“You like her don’t you?” Fennec asked smiling watching his eyes trail after her, “Old man,” she said wiggling her eyebrows, “You’ve killed people for less.”

“She… reminds me of another time. I think I’ll accompany her discreetly. No need to follow.”

You shower daring to wear a flowing dresses with two discreet slide slits that overlapped to hide the thigh holsters, “At least I can ride a speeder in this.” You found Boba standing outside the door waiting. His molten gazing temporarily holding you in place, “I figured I’d give you a ride.”

“I am quite capable of getting there on my own,” you said inserting your independence staring back at him.

“You are… quiet the capable woman,” he said noting the heighten chemistry today, “but I need the speeder today.”

You looked at this features feeling sick about how in depth you studied every scar, crease, shape of his nose and the depths of his skin, “Fine, let’s go,” you said looking away first, “but I’m driving, can’t risk crashing in this dress,” you said doing the best to ignore the tension that has been slowly building since you met him and the playful banter he allowed you to get away with. Just awhile longer.

He waved his arm forward, “Lead the way.”

“You haven’t asked your question today,” you asked glancing him.

“I’m sure it will come to me before you go to bed. You haven’t either.”

“I’ll let you know when I have one,” you said tossing your legs over the speeder realizing this was the worse idea you ever had but you didn’t want to have to explain changing your mind. You felt him climb on, you took a quick silent intake of air when you felt his cod piece nuzzled up to your ass. He gently wrapped his arms around you placing each hand on your hip. You bit your lip and turned on the speeder taking it near full speed to the bustling cantina. Boba was like the sun of Tatooine pressing against your back and his gloves pressing you where felt like heaven wishing you could take them for your self. Getting off the speedier for a split second you could feel the cod piece rub against your ass. I need some company because that isn’t happening.

“Take this,” he said tossing you a device, “Call me when your ready to get picked up,” although I don’t intend to let you be here alone. Boba took the speeder around giving it the appearance that he left before letting himself inside through the side door. His eyes spotting you at the counter with a shot in hand. You took himself to an empty booth a distance away tucking away his helmet and covering his armor to blend in. The droid brought him over a drink when he saw a man slide into the stool next to you. Boba blinked because the man was about his age. Anger starting boiling over when he saw him put hand on your leg watching you light up and smile at him.

“What is a goddess like you doing in a temple like this at this hour?” the man asked.

You smiled at the comment, “Hopefully enjoying some company for a bit,” you dared, watching him put his hand on your leg.

“I don’t mind keeping you company,” he said ordering to drinks.

He’s no Boba Fett, but he’s still cute to look at. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking such thing. Both of you chatted the conversation coming easy, there was no playing coy or calculated responses it made you miss having company because Fennec and Boba weren’t quiet conversationalist. You felt eyes at the back of your neck, you scowled for a second realizing it was probably Fennec keeping an eye on you or someone under here.

“What is it?” He asked concerned.

“Oh it’s nothing, I lost my train of thought.”

Boba watched every action his jaw setting tighter and tighter. He watched as the man leaned in kissed her. Boba’s gripping on the shot glass caused it to break. Your head turned again and you saw broken glass but not the person sitting in the shadows. Just a coincidence. Right as you started to lean back in you saw him pulling his hand away from your drink and a whipcord shoot out dragging him to the dark booth.

“Bantha Fodder,” you heard the growl from a familiar gravel sounding man, watching him step out in the shadows.

“Caraya’s Soul Fett! For kriff’s sake,” your blood ran cold for a moment staring at the helmet the man wired on the ground before taking out the blaster and shooting the man, “I get it he was going to drug me, but did you really have to stalk me? I could have handled it on my way,” you said putting the blaster away and getting in his face. You stuck your finger on his chest and gave him a small push, “I don’t need to be babysat let alone by you of all people.”

Boba looked down shot him again watching him disintegrate into dust, “You were saying?”

“I guess we’re even now,” you huffed pulling your finger off him watching retract the wire and putting his arms in front him. “I’m going to a different cantina, this time don’t follow me.”

You tossed a couple creds down on the table and leaving hearing his foot steps behind you and the heat from his gaze boring into the back of your back. You whirled around to find him standing there with his hands still in front him.

“I said don’t follow me,” you watched him talk a few steps towards you standing face to face, face to helmet.

“I am the Daimyo, I go where I want.”

“That is exactly why I don’t want you here! No one will talk to me or even look at me when your around. You know what it’s like to sit in silence alone for hours! I hate it.”

“Why don’t you talk to me?” he taking off his helmet, stepping forward pinning you in place with his gaze.

You saw the dilation in his eyes and his uneven breathing, “That’s why.” Feeling heat rush through you and your legs stared feeling like jello under his gaze. You could felt the heat go to your head, your mind emptying but conflicted if you want to kiss him or kiss him your knuckles. You knew your eyes had the same hazy expression thinking about when you found him in the towel, the water and muscle. You weakly stepped back ripping your eyes off of him, dizzily turning around trying to your legs under you. “This is business,” you said finally getting them moving, “Get a concubine or something,” you snipped, “isn’t that what Daimyo’s do.”

“I don’t want one” you heard him whisper.

“I don’t want you too either,” you gritted out not hearing foot steps behind you.

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100lxtters · 2 years ago

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The green armoured Daimyo

CHAPTER 6 / THE OTHER ARMOURED MAN

!! THIS STORY IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!

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Boba Fett x f!reader 8k words There is a man in similar armour to Boba, you assume he is part of the allies, but there was something sad and distant about him. You want to know more but sadly the war has started, and you’re more worried about Boba Dom! Boba Fett x sub! Reader Chapter warnings : alcohol, dirty talk, slight degradation, teasing/touching denial if that makes sense, face slapping, bratty reader, ass slapping, possessiveness, maybe a little jealousy, finger fucking, soft Boba again because I'm a sucker for it, anxiety again, we going into some non canon compliant stuff now as I didn't like a certain characters fate Mando'a translations: cyar'ika - darling/sweetheart jate - good linibar gar chur ni - need you under me mesh'la - beautiful Vor entye, ad'ika - Thank you, little one vaar'tur - morning

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''Boba'' you smile at him, ''you're back.''

He places a hand on your cheek and you lean into it, ''hello, cyar'ika.''

Both of you just staring into each others eyes, smiling at each other. You place a hand on his shoulder and pull yourself closer to him, he smelt like oil and sweat. You imagine 3 days of being in a ship with no real way to clean yourself would've been a nightmare, maker you wish you could drag him into the shower and help clean him, getting to see how beautiful he is under his armour.

Then he leans down and places a kiss onto your lips, pushing your body back into your room and kicking the door shut behind him. You pull him closer as a heavy breath leaves between you two, you feel him smirk as he says against your lips ''miss me?''

''Every second'' you whisper, your cheeks burning up.

''Jate'' he mumbles as he pushes you up against the closet wall, ''linibar gar chur ni, kriff.''

The cool wall hits your back as you pull him fully against you, his hard armour pressing on you. Completely unaware of what he is mumbling to you, you must ask him what language he is at least speaking to you in. His kisses are hard and deep, like he had been waiting days to be back with you, so your kisses match his to keep up.

Kissing deeply as your hand moves from his shoulder onto the back of his neck, feeling his scars run up his neck onto his head. They were almost smooth and seemed to travel quite far down, running your hand slightly over them but then his body stiffens a little against you.

He pulls his mouth back a little, you remove your hand and whisper ''sorry, I-I didn't know... you didn't li-like being touched there.''

''No, no it's fine'' he sighs against your lips, cradling your cheek with his hand and both your eyes shut still. He take a deep breath in and carries on ''I'm just not used to anyone touching me, it's been years since I last fucked anyone, or even did anything sexual until you came along. Especially since what happened to me happened, since my face and body became all fucked up and old.''

You two are a little bit apart now, you open and stare at him with sad eyes and say ''but Boba y-you're... mesh'la'' pretty sure you are pronouncing the word a little wrong.

He gives you a little smirk and says ''maker, I need to teach you some Mando'a because it's so sexy from your mouth.'' His words make your body burn up, you were trying to comfort him trying to use the language he always uses, Mando'a you think he called it, to help him feel better. Yet he has turned it back to him complimenting you.

You slowly raise a hand up and rest your hand on his cheek, your thumb running over the scar that ran on his nose. His eyes close as you move your hand higher up, soothing the scar from the nose up his forehead. Boba lets out a soft breath, it was like he didn't know fully what to do but just embrace your soft touches.

Then you lean closer and place a gentle kiss against it, feeling him wrap an arm around your waist. ''Vor entye, ad'ika'' he says now so softly. Your heart almost skips a beat, whatever he was saying was clearly kind, why is this man so nice to you? You were just a nobody, and yet he seemed to keep putting this effort and attention into you.

As you pull your head back you watch him open his eyes, his expression was so gentle and relaxed. He stoked your cheek and leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

Boba then holds your hand and pulls you over to your couch, sitting down as you look down at him. He pats his thigh and grabs your waist, pulling you onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest. ''So, did you do much whilst I was away? I'd hate to think you were just sitting around alone'' he asks.

So you inform him about how for the first day you didn't really do much, then on the second day you hung out with Fennec a bit and drank together. Then you told him about your trip out today to Mos Eisley, telling him there were jogan tarts if he wished for one. He said Fennec had commed him to tell him they found their ally, confusing you to why she never told you Boba was back seeing as she knows you would be interested. Or maybe she was doing it so you would be surprised when you got back?

''What about you? Did you find your old ally?'' You ask, wanting to know about his trip in some way.

''No, the leads I had all ran dry. I still don't even know if he is alive or not, I don't think anyone does honestly'' he sounds almost defeated. Because even though Fennec found one of their allies, at the end of the day two allies would've been stronger than one.

''I'm sorry'' you empathise with him, you wondered if this ally was a friend or not.

He places a soft kiss on your neck and shrugs, ''it's okay, it's sadly one of the parts of this business. That's why I'm at the power I am at now, I was sick of seeing hunters die off without anyone caring for them.'' It surprised you that he would be so open and honest with you, he clearly did have a lot of trust in you and did respect your loyalty to him, but you'd only really known him less than a month.

His arms around your waist pull you closer as he places more kisses on your neck, you lean your head back as you say ''well you do suit this power.''

He hums against your neck as he says ''of course you'd think that, you're just a needy girl who wants to get fucked by the king.'' Boba's teeth then nibble into your neck as you let out a slight whimper, ''do you want me to pin you down and claim your slutty holes?''

''P-please'' you moan. An ache between your thighs appearing, missing his touch so badly.

Next thing your body is being pushed from him as he tries to stand up behind you, pushing you to your feet too. He pulls your body around to face him as he cups your face, ''you'll have to wait then, I currently have people waiting for me.''

''But-but, please.''

He shakes his head and says ''can't have your king being late because you're needy, can you?''

Your cheeks turn bright red, you had weirdly missed his teasing. This man just making your underwear soaked from small movements and simple words. Just waiting for the day he eventually fucks you.

Boba then kisses you again, quite quickly before he adds ''I'll be back in a few hours, don't worry princess.''

You had waited three days to see him again, you could wait a couple more hours to have him touch you again, right? Just wanting his touch after touching yourself the last few days, needing him to make you cum instead.

Before he leaves he says ''oh, and don't worry about working tonight. You just relax for the rest of the day.''

It was a bit of an odd statement, was it because of what happened last time he had guests? Was he worried of something happening again? But also who were these people waiting for him as Fennec made no suggestions earlier that she had meetings later on, could it be to do with the ally?

A couple of hours pass, you make yourself a simple meal, you weren't really hungry but you needed to pass some time and this seemed like an easy way to do so.

As you do you think back to what happened earlier, how you spaced out and was unable to hear Fennec repeating herself over the com. She had told you afterwards she had been trying to reach you for almost 10 minutes, but you were completely out of it. As much as she was sympathetic since she could tell something was up she warned you not to do that again, because she was ready to turn Mos Eisley upside down to find you. Which the idea made you laugh, her being so worried and concerned was nice but also random.

But still, it had been years since you zoned out like that. You were just hoping they both knew what they were doing and by forming this group of allies was helping something. What was the point in getting all these allies anyway?

Was it a form of policing the streets from the Pykes? Or did they know more than they had informed you and that war really was about to kick off?

This all was getting so confusing and moving so quickly.

You just wanted to spend time and get to know Boba, find out exactly what you two were and just more about him. Yet this whole situation was always in the way.

Guess this is just the joys of being on Tatooine, you think.

Cleaning up the dishes from your dinner you get a message on your datapad from Boba asking you to come to the throne room and to bring the tarts you bought today. A smile appears on your lips as you clean your hands.

You pick up the box with the tarts in and head out your quarters. There was a bit of chatter in the corridors, it was clearly the Mods but they seemed to be on their way to their own quarters or out on patrol. Hoping though this meant the throne room was empty, or at least had no strangers in it.

As you turn a corner something, or more like someone, catches your eyes. Your head shoots to the side and sees a person in all silver shiny Mandalorian armour. Who the kriff was this?

Their helmet was staring directly at you, it was bad enough when Boba did this to you but at least you were sort of getting used to how he looked at you under it. This person however, you had no clue where they could be looking or even how they are looking at you.

You give them an awkward smile, trying to be polite, but they just turn and head to the garage.

That was rude then!

You just give your head a shake and carry on your walk to the throne room. You don't see anyone else the rest of the way, but as you get closer you hear Fennec's voice softly muffled coming from the room.

As you walk up the steps you see Fennec pouring herself a drink, Boba sat on the throne and a holo-map of Mos Espa in the middle of the room. You just smile slightly at them both when they turn to you, unsure what to say or do since Boba was the one who beaconed you here.

''Are these the tarts you told me about? I'm starving'' Fennec said coming towards the box. You just nodded and passed her them, a huge smile appeared on her face as she took one out and carried the box with her back to the bar stool. She took a bite and mumbled with her mouth full ''it's been so long since I've had something like this.''

Boba's chuckle from the throne makes your head turn to him. He had his helmet resting on the arm rest, seeming to be polishing it. ''Do you want one, sir?'' You ask him.

To the side of you Fennec seems to slightly choke on the tart. You both look at her as she says ''I know I said I don't want you two fucking in front of me, but that doesn't mean I'm wanting to deal with the rest of it too. Keep the roleplaying in the bedroom, I beg.''

''Come on Fennec'' Boba chuckles, ''the girls had manners since the first time she came here. She just knows who's in charge and who is her boss at the end of the day.'' You can feel his eyes on you as you see Fennec glare at him, ''plus it's not my fault if she wishes to use titles in other situations.''

Your face is burning, your stomach is turning, why is he talking about this to her so casually? Like sure you had used that title a few times but you never really thought much about it, the only thought really being that he was in charge so he gets a title.

Her eyes land back on you, you're now staring at the ground, eyes popping out your head whilst your whole body was on fire. You felt so embarrassed and they both were staring at you from either side.

''Okay, you're embarrassing the poor girl now Boba, stop it'' Fennec says.

The sound of his spars burn in your ears as he descends from his throne, you don't turn around as he gets closer. His hand rests on your shoulder for a moment as he passes you before heading to the bar counter to grab a tart from the box. Your eyes slowly making their way up his back, staring at the scars that travel up his head.

Then he turns around and you giggle at the sight of the crumbs around his mouth. ''What?'' he asks, a slight smile on his lips while a confused look covers his face.

You move towards him slowly and wipe your thumb next to his lips to clean up the small mess, but he then just shoves the rest of the tart in his mouth, causing more mess. You just shake your head and giggle as you move back, not helping him this time since he was just messing with you.

He is just staring at you now, his eyes moving from your eyes down your body. You clear your throat to remind him that Fennec was right behind him, but he doesn't seem to care. Moving his body closer to yours, leaning to your ear as he asks ''have you ate yet?'' A confused look on your face as you nod, him then replying ''good girl, want something to drink then?''

''Sure'' you reply softly, feeling him move any hairs off your face as you blush from his use of phrase. His gaze back on you like he was awaiting an answer for what you wanted to drink, but you weren't really sure.

Then he heads over to the bar to start making his own drink, Fennec just sat with this amused and yet kind of annoyed look on her face. In her defence she has stated moments ago she didn't want to be stuck witnessing what you two where, but that was on Boba not you. She then started to give Boba instructions for some drink for you, you just hope it wasn't as strong as the drink you had the other week was, the one that you had the night things really started with Boba.

''Here'' she says handing you the long glass full of pink liquid. You hesitate as you sip it, you didn't want to get drunk tonight so you prayed it wasn't strong.

Thankfully it wasn't. The drink was fruity, there was a bitter taste at the start of each sip but it was quickly covered with the fruitiness. ''It okay?'' Boba asks and you just smile and nod to him.

Watching him then sip his own drink which smelt like whiskey, you then sit down next to Fennec on the stools. Boba then leans against the bar in front of you both. The three of you just enjoying your drinks together, Fennec taking another tart for herself and humming to herself. Between you all none of you really know what to say, you didn't know what to bring up and talk about.

After a little while Fennec asks Boba about his trip, about what did he do since he didn't find this ally. He told you both about how he basically searched almost half of the Outer Rim but there was not one trace of 'him' or the group he was usually with. Boba informed you a little on this ally, how he was a fellow bounty hunter at one point who also worked for the Empire, and how at one point was a mentor to him but obviously since Boba's fall into the Sarlacc he had no contacts anymore.

He then jokes around about how odd it is that some of the planets he came across either people were shocked to see him still alive or had no clue who he was. Which made sense, he had been gone for five years and was no longer a hunter, but you couldn't tell if it bothered him or not. He had a reputation and now he has a new one to live up to, whilst trying to still remain knowledgeable in the galaxy.

Him and Fennec continue to talk between themselves, you start to become very lost as you had no clue what they are on about anymore. You feel your body slowly getting tired, the alcohol just making you sleepy more than drunk.

However the mention of your name snaps you awake, Fennec turning her gaze to you as she says ''as much as I don't want to know, I must ask. When? Why? And most importantly... him?'' smirking as she was clearly trying to tease Boba.

''Oh, erm'' you mutter, trying to make your thoughts coherent as you try to think of an answer. What did she want to know exactly, like did she want details or just a timeline or what?

''You don't have to answer her, little one'' Boba says, jokingly glaring at Fennec as her face cringes at the use of the pet name.

Her face scrunched up as she stares at him ''are you trying to find more reasons for me to tease and mock you? Plus, I'm just asking her an easy question. I'm just a bit confused on how, whatever this is, started.''

''Well maybe you should have walked her back to her room that night you got her drunk then'' Boba smirked as he downed the last of his drink.

Fennec's eyes popped out her head as she turned to you, ''since then?!''

''N-not really'' you add. They both give you confused looks, ''we haven't actually... you know'' your gaze now turn away from them, whispering ''fucked.'' Causing Fennec's head to shoot back to Boba and seemed even more confused by what was happening.

It was almost amusing trying to watch her catch up with it, like she was working out some timeline in her head. ''So wait, you two have just been, what? Flirting for the last like two weeks?''

Her response just made Boba chuckle as he said ''if that's what you wanna call it.''

''Wait! So when you were worried you 'offended' Boba was that a sexual thing? Did you two pull me into this?'' She asks, recalling the incident when she offered to speak to Boba for you and he said he already accepted your apology outside the Sanctuary.

You shake your head and say ''no, no. That was something else, that was me genuinely being confused if he could arrest someone.''

The whole time Boba is just grinning to himself, moving around the bar to behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. ''I just want to- you know what, I don't want to understand it'' she says finishing her drink, ''just again, don't do it in front of me please.''

Yet Boba didn't seem to be listening to her as he pulls your body back against his stomach, and you dare to straighten back up for Fennec's comfort but his grip is too tight. ''Wanna go back to your quarters?'' Boba clearly smirking above you. Was he trying to get her to leave?

Seeing Fennec's face cringe from across you as she stood up, ''okay, I got the message boss. I'll see you in the morning.'' The pair of you watched her leave the room and head up into her quarters, but as she's going up the stairs she yells ''just be safe, I'm not dealing with a child!''

Your body freezes up from embarrassment, feeling Boba's hand squeeze your shoulder and chuckle at her comment. At least she genuinely wasn't annoyed by you two, but Boba didn't need to wind her up like that. But yet maybe that was their friendship? You hadn't really seen them together for that long before.

Boba moves a hand up to your throat, squeezing it a little and pulling your attention back to him. ''So, do you want to?''

It took you a moment to remember what he was referring to, since you were too busy swallowing a whimper from the pressure on your throat. You give him a simple nod against his stomach, thinking about what he was saying to you on your couch earlier today.

He removes his hand and turns the stool around with his other hand, your head bending up to look at him. The look in his eyes makes you melt, it was like he was undressing you with his gaze. Placing his body between your thighs as his strokes the top of your head, ''I want to make you cum so hard you can't even think straight'' he whispers.

''S-sir'' you whimper. Maker, please it was all you wanted. You had been waiting so long, you needed him so badly you could scream. Boba then grabs your hand and indicates to stand up, so you do and he pulls you with him to your room. His pace was quick, like it was all he had thought about and wanted it right now.

When you arrive at your quarters Boba once again opens the door, pulling you in and slamming the door behind him. He turns around to face you with a look of desire in his eyes, scanning up and down your body, ready to take you. ''Who's the eager one now?'' You giggle at your attempt to tease him.

His expression changes, his eyes tense up and he smirks, ''careful little one.''

''Or what?''

He then closes the space between you two and brings his hand to your cheek, slapping it and then grabbing your face as a slight whimper leaves your opened mouth. ''Clearly someone can't handle her drink. You have one and suddenly you think it's okay to tease me?''

You try to smile the best you can under his grip as you reply ''but I'm right.''

Which results in him slapping your cheek again, then turning your body around and shoving you towards your bed, practically walking you there whilst being behind you the whole time. Once you reach the bed he bends your body over, your ass in the air. The one day you wore pants had to be today, you can't even really give him much of a show to tease him with.

''Have I got to teach you another lesson, slut?'' Boba asks as he presses his crotch against your ass. You let out a little whimper and press your body back, trying to get any type of pressure off him to help relieve yourself. But you hear him tusk as he says ''no, no. You don't get what you want now.''

You then feel his hands reach around your stomach to undo your pants, allowing him to do so. He undoes them and slowly pulls them down your thighs, feeling him then massage your ass cheeks. Having an idea what was to come as he said ''count.''

And you were right as the palm of his leathered gloved hand slams down on your ass cheek. A quiet whimper leaves your lips, you forgot how painfully pleasurable it felt. Maybe you should just keep teasing him, wanting him to keep hurting you in multiple ways that made your underwear soak for him.

Thoughts stopped as he grabs a fist full of your hair, ''I said count'' his tone was so powerful and dominant. It was like you were gushing into your underwear, how did this man have this much power over your body?

''One'' you whimper.

''Good girl, don't forget next time'' Boba says as he lets go of your hair.

Then the next slap comes, this time it was a little harder then the last one. Most likely due to you not following his simple instruction. ''Two'' a slight moan coming out as you say it. His hand grabs into your ass, kneading into it before pulling away and slapping it hard again. This time a moan does escapes you, ''t-three.''

''One more'' he mumbles. The force of the last one made your body push forwards slightly, making your pussy clench around nothing.

''Four'' you moan.

For a couple of minutes you stay like this, your ass burning as he held your hips, clearly staring down at your most likely red ass. Then you feel him lower himself between your legs, flinching as he places a soft kiss on the sore area. He then strokes over your soaked underwear, pressing softly over your sensitive clit. You press your body down but he just tusks again, ''naughty girls don't get what they want.''

''But- but please, I want you... I want you to make me cum'' you whimper, absolutely desperate for his touch.

His fingers push on your clit, not moving though, just adding the slight pressure as you let out a quiet moan. ''Maker you are needy, you go a few days without my touch and you practically soak my fingers before I even touch you'' he taunts.

You slowly move your body to force his fingers to grind against you, but he pulls them away. ''Please'' you almost yell. Boba stands back up and grips your hips, thrusting his clothed body against your ass, making you moan quietly.

''No'' he replies, clearly smirking to himself. He then leans down and whispers into your ear ''no matter how hard you beg, you'll get fucked when I say so.''

A thought crawls into your head, maybe it was a bad one, but you needed to do something to get him to fuck you. ''Maybe I should go find that other Mandalorian then'' you smirk. Boba stills behind you as you add ''maybe they'll fuck me instead.'' Where was this confidence coming from? Pretending that you would go fuck a total stranger who walked away when you smiled at them?

It happens in a blur almost, Boba pulls you onto your feet, spins you around and then pushes you onto your back on the bed. He glares down at you as the air re-enters your lungs. He looks angry, but also seems to know you are only teasing him. Watching as he yanks your boots off and pulls your pants and underwear off in one quick go.

Spreading your legs as he dances two fingers around your hole, ''oh would you now? You think he could make you cum as hard as I can?'' he teases as he pushes his fingers into your soaking pussy.

Letting out a loud moan as your eyes roll back, maybe it wasn't a bad way to tease him? After all you got somewhat of what you wanted.

Feeling his thumb run circles over your clit as his two fingers pull in and out of you, ''don't test me girl, I will be the one to claim you. I plan to wreck you completely, not him.'' Your pussy clenches around his fingers at his words, maker the way he was speaking to you could make you cum right now. ''Got it?''

''Y-yes'' you moan, your head rolling back.

He then pushes your shirt up and pinches your nipple, ''yes, what?'' he snaps.

''Yes... sir'' you whimper, your body getting overstimulated already. He just hums as he pulls on your nipple, your back arching under him. You had missed this, even though it had only been a few days and you had been making yourself cum, when Boba did it the feeling was a hundred times better.

He curls his fingers, hitting that same spot that caused you become a moan messing. Clutching the bed sheets to steady yourself as your body starts to shake a little. Your body was in complete pleasure, loving how he made you feel.

Thoughts trailing off about him fucking you, his big thick cock ruining your pussy, your body completely his. Submitting to him and him only. You couldn't wait for the day it happens, your pussy clenching around his fingers at the thought.

You can feel the pool in the pit of your stomach grow, your release getting closer and closer. He must have been able to tell as his fingers curled more, pulling you closer. But then you hear Boba's com link on his belt buzzes, Skad's voice coming through saying ''boss, we have a problem.''

Boba let's go of your nipple as pushes it over your mouth, muffling your moans as he shushes you, ''be quiet or else.'' Removing his hand as he picks up the com, his pace on your pussy not slowing down. How the kriff did he expect you to be quiet?

Pressing the button he speaks into the com, ''urgent?'' His gaze still on you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep your moans and whimpers quiet.

''Yes sir, there's reports of an attack in Mos Espa'' Skad replies.

You let out a whimper, a mix of the pleasure from Boba but also worry. An attack? He stops his movements and pull back, the pair of you staring at each other. ''Alright, meet me in the throne room in 5 minutes'' he says ending the conversation.

The expression on his face is hard, he was angry and you think scared. It was like he didn't know what to do. Even though he had been preparing for an attack for a few weeks now it was real now, the Pykes were actually attacking now.

''B-Boba'' you whisper as you stare at him, feeling extremely anxious and scared.

He meets your eyes again, and then pushes his fingers back inside you, a moan falling out your mouth. ''Need you to cum for me first, want you to feel good still'' he mumbles as his pace picks up.

Whimpering and moaning under him, ''but... Skad said-''

A slap across your tit cuts you off as he adds ''I don't want to hear anyone else's name come out of that pretty mouth of yours as I'm about to make you cum. You are to only say mine.'' His hand once again twists and pulls on your nipple, your pussy clenching around him as you get closer again.

As much as you wanted him to make you cum right now, you feel like this wasn't as important, but he seemed to think otherwise apparently.

''Think you can take one more?'' he asks as he teases a third finger, slowly pushing it into your tight hole. A deep moan escapes your lips as your head rolls back again. ''So good for me'' he praises as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

Your orgasm was closing up again, the pool in your stomach reappearing. ''I'm cl-close'' you whimper. His pace quickens, his thumb back to rubbing your clit as he pulled your overstimulated body closer and closer.

''Cum for me, mesh'la'' he commands and you instantly obey. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as you moan quite loud under him, his hand moving from your nipple to hold your rising hips down. ''That's my good girl'' he praises slowly pulling his fingers out, causing you to whimper a little.

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your cheek as he pulls back. Your eyes meeting again, but the same look is still there in his look, the same angry and somewhat scared look. You lift your hand up and hold his cheek, ''are you o-okay?''

''I will be, I'll sort this'' Boba replies as he strokes your cheek, ''don't worry about me.'' However his statement doesn't calm you, you can feel his anxiety running off him.

Slowly lifting himself back up to his feet, then helping you sit back up. You just watch him, trying to keep yourself calm by looking at his beautiful face, wishing that you didn't need to deal with the reality of what was happening. Swallowing all your fear and anxiety as he didn't need to deal with that currently.

He softly holds your head, pulling your gaze to meet his but you can't hold it, your eyes unable to focus on his. ''Hey'' he says softly ''look at me.'' Your eyes slowly meet his again, his expression softens as he continues ''I told you, I'm going to take care of you, and I'm going to keep you safe. No one will hurt you, I promise.''

Tears start to form in your eyes, ''but... wh-what if-''

His thumb wipes the tear from under your eye as he cuts you off saying ''princess, everything will be okay. I'm going to sort everything out.'' Empathy fills his eyes, he could tell you really were worrying about everything, and he planned to reassure you but only his words could do so much.

''I just... I can't watch i-it happen, again'' you whisper, more tears slowly flowing from your eyes, ''I-I can't''

Boba pulled your body close as your head rested on his hard cold armour, his hand stroking the back of your head. ''I promise, this won't be like your homeworld. No one is dying in this war'' he reassures you. But how did he know about home? You never told him what happened there, especially about the civil war that broke out. How did he know about this?

Had Fennec told him? Or did they already know since she did mention they already knew some things about you already, but what did they know exactly?

However, right now you decided not to care too much, you'd rather just have his affection instead.

He holds you for a little longer, he was well past the five minutes he told Skad, but he didn't seem to care. Once he did let go of you he headed into the fresher and cleaned his gloves, bringing back a cloth to wipe your tear stained face. When he finished he pulled your lips to his and placed a soft kiss on them.

You were once again in awe at this side of him, this gentle and caring bounty hunter. A man who hunted people for a job calming you from your own overthinking and making sure you felt safe.

After he was sure you felt better he left to meet Skad, you had to promise him about three times for him to actually believe you so he would leave. Watching in your doorway as he headed to the throne room, apologising to Skad he took longer than expected, but didn't give him an explanation to why.

At the end of the day he was the Daimyo so you guess it's his word is the only one that mattered.

*** You didn't sleep that well, your brain distracted all night. Full of fear and anxiety.

The knock on your door was what woke you up, you drag your tired body out of bed to the stranger at your door. Fixing your nightdress before finding out who exactly was here.

As you unlock the door you are presented with a very tired Boba. ''Vaar'tur, cyar'ika'' he softly smiles.

''Morning'' you force a smile back.

''May I?'' He asked, clearly indicating to come into the room. You move to the side and allowed him to enter, as he walked past you he grabbed your arm gently and pulled you over to your couch. He sits himself down and looks up at you, ''you look so pretty in the morning.''

You blush, ''so do you'' you quietly reply. He hums as he pulls you on the couch, sitting you next to him. You get yourself comfy as he holds your hand. His soft and happy expression slowly drop as he looks at your hand, his thumb stroking the back of your it. You're starting to get a bit concerned as you ask, ''Boba, why are you here at this time?''

His eyes meet yours, ''you know the attack from last night?'' Your face drops as you nod, he continues with ''it was at the Sanctuary.''

It was like time stopped, there was no way you heard him right. The Sanctuary? Why would there have been an attack there? Your breathing became unsteady as tears prickled your eyes, staring at him in disbelief.

''What?'' The tears already escaping your eyes, ''please, tell me you're lying.'' But the look on your face tells you he isn't. You pull your hand away from his as you stand from the couch ''is everyone okay? Is Garsa okay? I need go, I need to make sure everyone is okay.''

Your feet are carrying you into your bedroom, pulling the nightdress over your head, searching through your closet in your underwear. You needed to check on everyone, they needed help. There was no way you could stay in this guarded Palace whilst everyone could be dead. As you grab a jumper you hear Boba's spars make their way quickly towards you, he pulls you back and wraps his arms around your waist.

''Get the kriff off me! I need to help them'' you cry out, tears just pouring all over your face.

''Little one, calm down'' he says, his voice so soft and calm, but you just try to shove him. Using all your force to get out of his grasp, but he is too strong. His grip around you not budging, holding you away from your clothes as you struggle in your underwear.

''You're not there to help them and you're meant to be the fucking Daimyo, why aren't you there?!'' You were angry, why wasn't Boba helping? Why had he been so insistent to make you cum last night when he could've went and helped instead?

It all felt like it was your fault.

He pulls you back towards your couch and shoves you down on it, there is a look of pain in his eyes. ''Stop it'' he says as he kneels down in front of you, holding your face as you let more tears fall, ''there was nothing I could have done.''

''B-but'' you cry, but no words come out. How could they? What was there to say?

''It was already too late by the time Skad informed me, sadly there were too many casualties'' Boba says. Was this meant to comfort you? You stare at him with pain in your eyes, opening your mouth to reply but he adds ''Garsa is okay, she is badly injured but in a good enough condition. Luckily quite a few people were in okay condition, everyone is getting treatment they need.''

A slight sigh of relief leaves you, ''thank the maker'' you whisper, but the tears still fall. All those innocent lives lost, people you were once close with, co-workers who had families waiting at home for them. All gone.

All thanks to this stupid kriffing war, but you couldn't blame Boba. It wasn't his fault, but again this only happened because he took power. But it was wrong to blame him, especially when you could see how upset he was about this all. Knowing he had been trying to prevent this for weeks, trying to assure this never happened in the first place.

Your body then shivers, a sudden reminder you're still in your underwear. ''Stay there'' Boba says as he heads back towards the bedroom, hearing him rummage through your clothes. Returning with a long sleeve blue knitted top and baggy brown pants, handing them over to you. You gently take them off him as you pull them over your body, thanking him as you do so.

He then informs you that he, Fennec and the Mods were heading into Mos Espa, to get a grasp on what had happened. He wanted to see the Sanctuary's remains and get a full idea on what they were dealing with there, promising he will be back in a couple of hours to deploy everyone how they were needed.

Before he levels he once again reassures you, telling you that if everything goes south to grab the first speeder and flee to Mos Eisley. You really hope that it was just a back up plan, praying everything will go smoothly and by the end of the day you'll be back here with Boba.

It had been about an hour since Boba and the others left, you just managed to force some food down, even though you felt sick you knew you had to eat something. Staring at the wall as you tried to keep yourself calm, but all you can do is sadden yourself over the thoughts of what happened.

You wish you knew where Garsa was, wanting to visit her and check she is okay. You wonder who else survived, Boba never really explained what type of attack it was, but since he mentioned remains you imagine it is possible it was blown up. Which would make sense, it's sadly a easy and simple way to attack.

Boba had told you to stay in the throne room if you wished as it would be easier to contact you there, so you decide to leave your quarters and head there instead. As you turn the corner you hear heavy feet head up the throne room steps, a glimpse of that same silver Mandalorian armour from yesterday catches your eyes.

You him grunt as he enters the room, was he looking for Boba? So you quicken your pace and enter the room, he was already staring at you, well you think as you were unaware from his visor. ''Hey, you looking for Bo- Lord Fett?'' You ask, but you get no response. ''I know where he is if you wish to know'' you inform him.

''Who are you?'' He asks, his voice is a bit softer then Boba's, but still just as tough with the modifier. His body language was hard to read, his armour didn't really help, he just seemed fed up and tired. Who exactly was he?

''I'm, erm... I'm his kitchen cleaner'' you reply. It felt almost like a lie, but it wasn't, not fully. You were a bit more than that but you still hadn't had the chance to speak to him about that, and it didn't really matter right now anyway.

''Where is he then?'' The Mandalorian asks, clearly growing tired and just wanting to leave already.

''Mos Espa, at the Sanctuary'' you reply. All he does is hum and goes to leave, ''what's your name by the way? I haven't seen you around before... well apart from yesterday.''

His back is turned to you, he doesn't move a muscle as he says ''just call me Mando.'' You reply with your name but he just walks away, was he always so rude?

Watching as he left the throne room to, you assume, go find Boba. There was something so sad about him, like he was lost. More so then just someone who was in a place he'd never been in, like something personal was happening. You had seen it countless times with others, you just knew when someone was dealing with something, and a part of you wished to help this stranger.

He was almost intriguing, a complete mystery. Maybe he was a bounty hunter and that's why he acted in that cold and distant way? You wished to know more, but you doubt 'Mando' would ever tell you, you could ask Boba but maybe that was weird.

So you make your way over to one of the booths, feeling very alone in this huge Palace. You wonder who else was still here, did everyone go with them?

Trying to get comfy as you lounged around the booth, loading up some holomovie to distract yourself as you lay across the seat. Maker you hope they are back soon, this all felt quite dystopian almost, being the only person in the Palace. Well you think the rancor is still down in his pit, but you couldn't be bothered to move and find out.

This day had already been so overwhelming, you felt so out of place and useless. Considering you technically survived a civil war you had no fighting skills, well you didn't really survive, you just ran away. There were no skills you had to help fight this war, just having to watch it unfold, your boss or whatever you could class Boba as, having a backup run away plan in case you're the only one left.

The fear of none of them returning sneaks into your head, if none of them came back you would have no one. The Sanctuary gone and the Palace abandoned.

You give yourself a shiver and shake away all the anxiety, trying to keep everything more positive minded. They had been gone about two hours, that was a normal length for a patrol. Nothing bad will happen you reassure yourself, taking a deep breath in and focusing on the bad holomovie to calm yourself.

Apparently you dozed off a bit as the sound of the huge door opened upstairs. You froze, who was coming in? What had you missed? Where the Pykes coming to take the Palace?

Shit, you should've stayed awake, you're done for now. This was it-

''Is he ready?'' You heard Boba's voice faintly. You quickly jumped to your feet and headed up the slightly twisting staircase, in the distance beyond the huge door you could see the suns beaming down on Boba and the rancor trainer standing next to the rancor. What had you missed? Were they prepping the rancor?

You sprinted over to the door as he turned to see you, he was in fully armour with his helmet on. His body seemed tense and also tired, but his shoulders dropped a little as you got closer. ''What's happening?'' You ask, a bit out of breath.

''Didn't you hear over the coms?''

You shake your head and reply, ''no... sorry, I fell asleep a-and left the com in my room.''

He cups your cheek and says ''it's okay, I'll explain it all later. I need to go back and help Djarin though.'' You wondered if that was the real name of the Mandalorian? But what was still happening? Why had he came back for the rancor?

''Ha-has it started?''

He softly nods, ''sadly, but we have it under control. I came back for reinforcements.''

You start to shake a little, looking at the rancor with sad eyes, and then turning back to Boba. You lean forward and place a kiss on his dusty and sandy helmet, ''please be safe.''

Boba grabs your hand and squishes it as he replies ''don't worry about me, I can take care of myself.''

He then lets go and climbs onto the beast, and oh maker what a view that was! His legs spread on it's back, grabbing the chains and pulling on them. This isn't an action you though would make your pussy clench, and yet here you were.

Watching him quickly ride off on the rancor to the city, he looked so powerful and sexy on the back of it.

The trainer just headed back inside, you slowly follow, placing yourself back into the booth awaiting for their returns.

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