#boba x you

[bobathirstaccount]

Well yes I Am thirsy for Boba

Target audience reached

[blackmonitor]

Ah, so I did a thing...

The First chapter of my new Boba x Reader story is up! 

[bobathirstaccount]

Finding a new favorite fictional character is like, will you be temporary or will you become a permanent part of my personality for the next 10 years?

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you

『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting

Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.

His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.

Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.

He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.

Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.

Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.

The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.

“Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.

Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.

He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.

He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.

Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.

Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.

And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.

He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.

“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.

He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.

You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.

You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.

He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.

Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.

[bobathirstaccount]

The Quiet God Ch 11 on AO3

[ayyy-pee]

i feel like Satoru is the type to like dogs, but not wanna adopt one. especially a puppy. he doesn't want any more responsibility in his life than he already has. puppies need attention, affection and time that he just can't give to anyone but you these days...

...but he literally can't say no to you so he lets you anyway. and you adopt this cutie pie little puppy with big, round brown eyes that stare up at you and she's just so cute you can't breathe.

you name her boba, and she loves Satoru

and Satoru loves to pretend he couldn't care less about "the dog" as he refers to her. but over time, you start to find little things around the house that say otherwise.

a new toy here and there, squeaking loudly when it's only you and boba home (you find out they were hidden on Satoru's side of your shared closet) you confront Satoru about it and he vehemently denies getting "the dog" anything.

then there's very specific and very expensive treats that show up on the kitchen counter one day. and after having just a taste, boba is hooked and will no longer accept any other treats but those. Satoru shrugs when you ask about it then changes the subject.

there's the lavender colored collar that shows up around boba's neck one morning with a new heart shaped name tag and charm attached that jingles when she trots around the house. and apparently nobody knows where that came from either.

but the cherry on top is the day you come home late from work and find Satoru curled up on the couch, sleeping peacefully with the dog he never wanted snuggled tightly in his arms 💕

[joelsbloodyhands]

Mine

Din Djarin x Reader, The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: Your employer is pissed when you come back from getting information about a bounty with a bruised hand mark around your neck.

A/N: I kinda just wrote this one because I had a vague idea and ran with it. I think everyone is going to learn very quickly in my writing that clearly jealous/overprotective Din is my fave version of him 🙈

Warnings: reader gets choked and not in the nice way (only talks about it), overprotective Din, Din is your employer but clearly wants to be more, death and m!rder (all in the name of love) 🤗, mentions of blood and bodily harm, mentions of slave traders, fluff with a little bit of spice✨, soft!Din but also a little bit reckless!Din 👀 smut references but not written too explicitly but still MINORS DNI, business associates to lovers arc? 😅 not set at any particular point during the series.

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader does not have a visible disability.

You’d been gone too long and Din was getting anxious.

This hadn’t been his original plan.

The contact for information regarding the bounty had unfortunately been highlighted as a previous foe of his. He’d busted them prior when their bounty puck had fell in his lap over a cycle ago.

Trust Karga to let the man redeem himself by providing intel on high-level bounties with the incentive of remaining out of the hands of the Rebellion that for some reason unbeknownst to Din, wanted his head on a stick.

Why had Din let you go and barter for the information again?

“He won’t suspect me to be a threat.”

Oh right, yeah. That’s what you said.

Except Din was probably worrying about the wrong thing because the biggest threat would be the ex-criminal you were meeting with at Mos Espa Cantina.

“Go say hi to Boba for me. Get the boy fed and I’ll be back soon.”

Din was losing his edge.

On what kriffin planet did he give in to such a request?

You were in danger and he knew it.

He knew it and he still sat in the markets with Grogu, twirling wupiupi coins in his fingers for the past half hour while his son slurped another bowl of pog soup.

Why?

Well, that was easy.

Since the past year you had been travelling with him, Din had grown to have affections for you.

To start he kept you at arms length.

Brief answers to your curious questions turned into nightly talks between your bunks. Subtle touches to guide you through busy and sometimes treacherous places turned into lingering holds in his grasp, fear of losing you to the crowds. He found himself watching you far longer than he ever had before and during times when he didn’t necessarily need to. The sound of you using the fresher while he tucked in his little green son had his heart pounding and a certain area of his armor feeling a little bit too uncomfortable.

He grew more and more protective the further you strayed without him.

He no longer wished for you to venture into dens alone to ask for information on his behalf but he couldn’t deny that you were good at it.

Better than him.

You were calm and collected.

You had a level head.

Something that he could very easily lose control over should Grogu and yourself be threatened by a contact. Though it was the one thing you had learned you could assert yourself over since Din’s change of heart.

You had a job that needed to be done and you were the best person for it.

So Din caved far quicker than he normally would with allowing you to go the cantinas and talk about bounties, pay and information. It sped up the process for Din to track them and also meant he didn’t have to deal with the unwanted chit chat that came with meeting up with Karga.

Something you enjoyed. Something that had Din’s palms itching whenever Karga took your hand to help you stand from the booth, Din’s clenched fist aching to wipe the smug look of his face when he turned back in his direction.

“I like her, Mando. She’s good at getting what she wants.”

He knew you were.

Din wasn’t sure if he was included on the list of things you wanted but you sure as hell were on his.

There was times he had a inkling.

Especially when he was feeding the kid and he caught you looking away when his eyes found you scraping away at your lunch.

Times when you would grab his hand without hesitation and pull him through midnight markets towards the sights of fireworks. Din’s heart warming at the wide smile plastered across your face, the powdery shades of red, blue and green lighting up in your eyes from the sky.

Damn, he was down bad and he had no idea what to do about it.

Technically, he was your employer.

Juggling Grogu and his job was a difficulty. Most of the time he was happy to venture out with Grogu in his carrier or pod but his bounties got, let’s say, brave in their efforts to deter him. Going so far as to aim shots towards the child. They learned his weakness and Din hated it.

So with much reluctance to start, he asked Peli if she would be interested in babysitting him for a price but of course she refused; even with the money on the table.

“Not a chance but I know just the person for the job.”

He had slid the money off the table and walked back to the ship without another word until she scrambled after him.

“Hey, hey, hey! Just hear me out, okay?” Din had sighed, turning back to her from the top of the ramp while she stood hands on her hips and a smile growing. “There’s this kid that needs a job. Call ‘em a distant relative, if you will. They’re desperate. Need money, board, food, water and they’ll make sure your little boy is taken good care of. I swear!”

“Have they taken care of children before?” Din asked inquisitively but also with a half mind to ignore Peli completely and close the ramp in response to her proposal.

“Yeah! Loads of times! They’re a professional!”

Din doubted that very much. He knew Peli’s tactics for selling him an offer and he couldn’t deny that she was good at it.

Fine, he’ll bite. Again.

“Call them.”

He just remembers Peli’s grin, your soft voice on the end of a comlink and then a speeder sounding just outside.

She had presented you to him like a rare gift and he was less than happy to receive you at the time but more than a few rotations later, you had thrown yourself in front of a bounty that had tried to commandeer his ship, their blaster aimed for Grogu in his bunk, taking a graze to the side before Din shot him dead.

You were willing to die to protect his son.

That was more than he could’ve ever asked for.

Later when Din was back at the Crest, you returned.

He had spent the past hours pacing up and down the ramp like a mad man.

Originally, he had planned to detour from the markets with Grogu over to the cantina but you had used your comlink to tell him you were already near the ship.

That was interesting because Din got back to the ship and you weren’t even here.

Which begs the question, why did you lie that you were already nearby?

Maybe he was being paranoid. His fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly, stressing about your whereabouts and the obvious reason as to why he was so stressed to begin with.

So when he’d heard your footsteps up the ramp, your voice calling for Grogu, you were both surprised to see the other staring back.

“Where have you been?” Din questioned gently but you sensed an underlining annoyance to his tone.

“I detoured, sorry,” you sheepishly smiled, holding up a bag of frog meat. “I saw a vendor selling this and I knew Grogu would be happy about it. Not to mention,” you brush past him, eyes focused solely on the sleeping child snuggling into his hammock on Din’s bunk, “it would be nice to see him not eat a whole frog for once.”

You laugh and it eases Din.

Of course he was just being paranoid.

“And the contact?” He says and you remain with your back to him, reaching your hand in carefully to tug the blanket over Grogu’s body. “He give us what we need?”

“He did,” you respond and Din satisfied, presses the button to bring up the ramp and close the hatch. The sound of it whirring so loud, in need of some oiling so much so that you had probably thought he missed your quiet words.

“What was that?” His helmet turns your way when the hatch closes with a loud creak.

“I said, somewhat.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t being paranoid after all.

Din feels his nerves wash over him, noticing how you’re not even turning around as you address him. He takes you in. You don’t seem discomforted, angry or emotional. You’re incredibly calm.

Though that was worrying.

Normally, you came back from having debriefs with the informants with a story to tell.

“It was quite scary actually. They had this wookie with them but then you’ll never believe this guy! Stood there, blaster in hand, immense glare in his face, goes and shoves a fist in his satchel, I’m ready to throw hands and I shit you not, Din…wookie pulls out a cookie and starts crunching away at it!”

“Have you ever met a Gungan, Din? I think they’re my favourite people I’ve ever met. I mean they were all like, yousa follow us now, okeyday? Seriously! Oh gooberfish! I love them!”

“What do you mean by somewhat?”

You sigh.

This wasn’t good.

“I’m sorry, Din. They gave us the last location. I think that’s the most important thing.”

“What about if they’re solo or run with a crew? We need to know what we’re walking into, otherwise we could get bombarded the moment we land.”

This wasn’t a simple bounty. This guy was one of the worst out there.

A slave trader.

It angered Din to even think about it.

“Something happened,” he doesn’t let you tip-toe around the subject. “What are you not telling me?”

You fall silent and that’s enough for him.

Something did happen and what’s worse, you don’t want to tell him.

He moves towards you and you turn on your heel, ready to protest. Din had only meant to just embrace your shoulder gently to ease you into a conversation he thought you needed to have but the slightest wince had him drawing back almost immediately.

With his steps halted in front of you, the air cold, the crest filled with silence, Din’s visor drops instinctively to your neck.

Was it getting cool? Sure, when it was getting late. Though right now, it was still early afternoon and you never wore a scarf in Mos Espa outside the settlement and in the dunes.

“Did he touch you?”

Din has to bite back the growl threatening to crackle through his modulator.

Your head drops, eyes on the floor and the look of regret on your features make Din pray to the Maker that he’ll kill the man just for the expression on your face.

Then you unravel the scarf and Din wastes no time.

His hand had pulled your collar back gently, his shoulders stiffening at the purpled marks there.

You grimaced before trying for a smile but he sees the way your eyes plead with his, “Before you ask, it looks worse than it feels. I’m fine, Din. Let’s just go.”

He remembers you calling his name after that.

Only once because you knew as you watched him brush past you, grabbing two vibroblades from his armoury and charging down the steps towards the town, that there was nothing you could say to stop him.

And you were right because less than five minutes later, Din’s blades were impaled on the informants hands, stapling him indefinitely to the table at the cantina while onlookers ran completely, hid or dropped their heads from his view.

Then his gloved hands were on his throat, squeezing the life out of him.

An eye for an eye.

You hadn’t explained why the man had strangled you and it was pointless anyway.

He had no right to touch you.

To hell with Karga.

He’d lose an informant but that informant chose to fuck with what was his and that was worth more than any information.

When Din felt the life leave him, he dropped a number of credits to the table, looked up at the barman and walked away. His last words being, “you can keep those,” shrugging his shoulder towards the blades on the way out.

Now back at the ship, you sit rigidly on the bunk while Din gently swipes a lotion of bacta over your wound with a cotton wipe.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Your eyes flicker to his visor and you know he’s evading your gaze.

You sigh and for a moment, he think you’re not going to reply until your hands gently take his, stopping him from tending to you.

He lifts his visor then, meeting your concerned eyes, your fingers intertwined with his on your lap.

“I can handle myself. You know that, right?”

Oh. So that’s what this was?

You were worried he thought you incompetent to end up in this circumstance?

Of course you would think that. He’s your employer. You only want to deliver good work for him.

That’s not all this is anymore though and Din can’t pretend and let you go on feeling like a failure especially with the tears dancing on your waterlines.

“You are very capable, mesh’la but-“ Din sighs.

How can he even begin to explain to you that he’s more angry at himself for not protecting you like he’s supposed to?

Kriff, you’re not even a bounty hunter. Trained to use a blaster as a novice, he noticed how you flinched whenever you’ve had to pull the trigger on his behalf. You’re at your calmest when you’re rocking the small boy before bed, singing lullabies to him in a hushed tone probably so Din couldn’t hear. You had no idea that he stood just above the ladder to the cockpit and listened.

You were ethereal and he couldn’t get enough of you.

That’s why it made his hands shake to even think that anyone would harm you.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts, he misses the way your eyes widen at the term of endearment he let slip and the quick gesture as you shake yourself from how affected you are by it.

“I just…” you break through his racing thoughts, his eyes latching onto your dipped chin, eyes shadowed in the corner of the docking port, just outside his bunk. You look solemn but rather than feel dread, Din’s heart stills when he notices the flush of pink across your features.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were nervous.

“I just want to be able to do more for you.”

The words play on a loop, almost like they’re colliding against the inside of Din’s helmet, repeatedly soaring through his ears again and again.

“I want to be more useful for you. Ya know?”

Useful? You think you’re not already useful?

“Sometimes I just feel like I have more to offer. I know you brought me in to be a babysitter but I can be more than that. For you.”

Was the carbonite freezing system failing or was it getting hotter in the crest?

Din felt like he needed to tug the shroud off from around his neck. The air was suffocating.

“Please say something?” Your small voice says quietly.

“You are more to me than you will ever understand, cya’rika.”

Your eyes meet his then.

Well, his visor at least and Din curses his creed for having him hide his face at a time when he wants- no needs you to see how much he means what he says.

You’re silent but the increasing rouge of your cheeks is enough to see that you understand him and that perhaps there was some truth in his suspicions.

You felt for him just as much as he felt for you.

“Din…”

And just like that, his eyes roll back momentarily hearing his name leave your tongue like a pleading prayer.

He couldn’t pretend like you weren’t affecting him too.

He needed you to know.

“Get in the bunk, ner kar’ta.”

Your body stills a moment in surprise and you don’t move.

Maybe he misjudged or maybe he’s being too forward but then you stand and without taking your eyes away from him, you seat yourself on the side of his bunk.

Waiting for him.

Waiting for further instruction just like you’ve been doing ever since you walked onto his ship.

One thing he realised he misjudged.

All those times you obeyed every command, it was never out of the need for his money.

You never questioned him, never refused an order but with Din and the matter of Grogu’s safety, it was never a request and that’s all it was to start.

It was just a matter of his sons safety until he realised he loved you too.

Din stands and steps in front of you, you look up at him as he tugs the shroud from around his neck loose.

He notices how your eyes drop to his waist, evading the reveal of his tanned skin while you’re positioned below him. He wraps the material a couple of times before placing the fabric over your eyes.

You don’t move.

You don’t flinch.

You just allow him to remove one of your senses, leaving nothing but darkness over your sight. His heart aches at the trust you have in him, allowing him to render you vulnerable before him.

He ties it behind your head, making sure it’s not too tight as to hurt you.

He’s not the same type of man as the monster from earlier today.

His fingers itch at the memory and he shrugs his gloves off, setting his bare fingers against the cold metal of his helmet.

You await patiently and he watches as you jerk your head slightly at the familiar sound of his helmet releasing.

The sound you’ve only ever heard from a nearby room, hiding away from him when you brought him supper.

You await patiently while Din removes each piece of armor, setting it aside.

Then there’s just silence.

Until you hear his knees hit the ground in front of you and a warm breath hits your neck, a shudder running up your spine.

“Is it okay if I show you something?”

His whispers hit your ear drum in the most delightful way.

You nod dreamily.

Then you feel rough, warm lips graze your neck.

If heaven was travelling at light-speed through space, it was right here and now with Din’s lips travelling along your jawline, mapping out the path to seal against your lips. He tugs gently, coaxing you out of the shy shell you had created when you realised the butterflies he made you feel when you first met had more to do with how attracted you were to him than to how intimidating most people found him.

Every step he took on each planet you travelled, Din carried a powerful aura that most people cowered away from but it only drew you to him more.

You knew Din was strong.

You knew not many could beat him in a fight, yourself included but that was the whole point.

Din would never abuse his strength over you.

Ever.

Though, you wish he would, in special circumstances.

Like right now.

“How do you feel, cya’re?” Din inquires breathlessly, lips pressing soft kisses down your throat while you bite back the urge to be vocal.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you say uneasily, your hands gripping the bunk below you.

Din’s chuckle hits your ear, reverberating against your ear drum exquistively.

“Din?” He hears your voice rattle with every nestle of his lips stroking over your skin.

“Yes, mesh’la?” He raises his head, lips brushing the underside of your jaw, watching your lips turn up into a small smirk. Though you couldn’t see his expression returning yours, his adoring smile awaited your next words patiently.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

You feel a thumb smooth over your bottom lip.

“He deserved it,” you shake your head slightly, fighting away an amused smile on your lips that he quickly wipes away, replacing with an expression of longing when his lips meet your ear.

“You’re mine.”

[jimmysea]

Try touching him. After you touch him, if you hear your heart beat faster than usual, that's what's called love.

THAMEPO (2024) - EP 5

[bobathirstaccount]

YOU should be at the club I should be in the arms of a fictional character

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

How about the mk1 characters getting annoyed ( cause you know women like to sleep with pillows or blankets or something between their legs and just lay there cuddled up with a pillow) cause they're cuddling a pillow one I'm their arms and one between their legs

MK1 characters genuinely beefing with a pillow

(bi han, johnny cage, syzoth, tomas vrbada)

this is actually so real of you anon i cannot sleep unless i have 4 pillows with me (requests open as always :D)

Bi Han

-Is offended by the gratuitous amount of pillows you’ve managed to populate the already cramped bed with.

-In the beginning of sharing a bed with him he’d just sleep faced away from you so he never realized this was always something you did; and probably took it personally 

-He suggests that you are being childish and in a moment of mild embarrassment, says you can just hold onto him instead.

-Good on him for voicing his needs and opening up to his partner! But you don’t have the heart to tell him his arms are too muscly and less comfortable than your pillows. 

-In the mornings he stores the extra pillows under the bed or on the seats to make everything look neat because you DON'T no matter how much HE TELLS YOU.  

-In the warm summer months when shit is hot as hell you will forgo it because who needs them when you have the equivalent of “cold pillow side” all night! 

-It makes him feel like he’s the little spoon, which he doesn’t appreciate, and you get really sweaty at around 4am, which he appreciates even less, but it’s very grounding and the pressure makes it easy to sleep 

-He always wakes up really disoriented and mistakes you for the blanket (read: almost tosses you off the bed as he gets up)

 Johnny Cage

-This is equivalent to letting your dog sleep at the foot of the bed (except let's be real you’ve probably done something similar to him) 

-Thinks its super cute when he comes into the room after his shower and sees you all comfy and snuggled up, expecting you to reach for him all sleepy once he gets under the covers

-And when I tell you it hurts his pride like nothing else, when you turn around to get into a better position

-Babe i'm RIGHT here (gets a bolster thrown at his head)

-Out of spite he’ll copy you and sleep with the bolster instead of holding you, and immediately gets the appeal

-Because yes he loves you dearly, but he can’t exactly fold you three times to fit under his bad knee (as much as he wants to)

-As time goes on you both now have more extra pillows, bolsters and djungelskogs than you know what to do with.

-(you two both have one except he weighs like a brick shit ton so his is extremely disfigured and looks like a sack)

-He thinks you look really hot when you lay on your side cuddling all the pillows

-You’ll just be watching TV and he’s got the googly eyes ok calm down buddy not while you’re wearing the muumuu…

Syzoth

-Thinks you are building a nest because there is no other reason someone needs five pillows and two throw blankets

-Though this is coming from a man who spent most of his life sleeping on the cobblestone floor 

-Over the next few weeks he comes back to you with an assortment of sort fluffy…things

-You don’t have the heart to ask why he’s suddenly showering you with gifts, initially thinking it’s good nature but hey ok there’s a limit to your patience AND space on this bed. 

-The teddy bears are adorable, but spa…towels? Does he know what a spa is? You have more questions than answers.

-Every time you thank him he gets quietly excited since he thinks this is confirmation that you are nesting and possibly want to start a family with him

-Doesn’t actually mind the part with you not cuddling with him as often, he usually just lightly holds your hand or big spoons you 

-The day you actually ask him about it, and eventually have to break the news that no you are not nesting and that it’s just for your comfort, he deflates like a balloon

-Bless his heart you spend the rest of the day begging for forgiveness and clinging onto him like a koala explaining your side

-“Does that mean… you are uncomfortable with me?” NO IT’S JUST SECOND NATURE SYZOTH!! LIKE WHEN YOU WANT TO BASK ON A ROCK!! SECOND NATURE!

-He looks at you pointedly. Just because he’s zaterran doesn’t mean he’s going to behave like an iguana…. Not the zaterran discrimination…

-You compromise using him in replacement, and grow to enjoy the feeling of your new pillows occasionally squirming under your iron death grip.

Tomas Vrbada

-Will cheerfully use his herculean strength to just wriggle through your grip so you hold him and not the pillows. 

-Wiggles up like a snake coming out a pot until he can wrangle his arms above yours and hug you

-Just starts telling you about his day like its a normal conversation while you lay there completely stunlocked 

-It’s also just a reminder that as sweet and kind your partner is, he is also insanely strong and is just careful to be soft with you 

-If you’re both laying in bed and you prefer to cuddle up with pillows he’ll just stare at you with the saddest, wettest boba eyes using his curled up forearm as a pillow 

-And since you are merely a mortal man you relent and cling onto him instead

-At the same time he likes when you rest your head on his chest and hold onto a bolster, a perfect combination of not overheating and physical touch

-Biggest flaw is that he tends to spook you with how quietly he enters the room, so more often than not he is getting PELTED by that soft Egyptian cotton pillow at light speeds

-He’ll catch it 80% of the time and laugh, the other 20% he’s equally scared and the thing takes him down like it’s Sisyphus’ boulder and he’s the hill

[b0ba-chan]

college student suna who visits you after work at your parents driveway (bc who has money for a house with inflation) and sits in the car with you at 11pm to catch up on your day. you are able to catch up on the little things and complain about work with him. 45 mins later youre on top of him with your pj shorts pushed to the side and his cock stuffed in you on the driver seat. you let out little whines as he thrusts long and slow up into you. the windows are halfway down and the only sounds in your ear is his whispered moans. nothing like a quickie in the front seat on a summers day.

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊boba time : stealing lip balm꒱

♡ I haven’t been writing like an idiot ! So sorry if my quality is going up and down/ is weird. This isn’t edited and was written on a whim.

Katsuki keeps stealing your lip balms. It isn’t much of an issue until half of your stash is ran through and missing.

You know he has to be the one taking them. Every time you kiss him, he licks his lips a little. Wet tongue swiping over puffy lips, top teeth coming to dig into it. His tongue makes it’s way over his lips again and he lets out a low hum.

Every time except when you’re not wearing a lip balm.

When you aren’t wearing fruity or too-sweet lip balm, he licks his lips quick to get spit off and grunts. The only exceptions to this rule is when you’re making out or in bed. Those are special cases, you decide.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your sweatshirt, carrying it over your arm. The winding halls of the agency amplify the echo of your steps and huffs. And with a heating face, you make quick work of finding your husband’s office.

The spare key rests in the front pocket of the black bag, nestled safely beneath a clasp and on a key ring. Nimble fingers snatch the metal items out with a clink and your lips curl into a pout. When the door clicks open with the turn of your wrist, your chest puffs out in a final rush of anger.

“Katsuki— where the fuck is my lip balm going?”

The poor boy freezes like a deer caught in headlights. Thick hands fiddle with a massive stack of paper, much too daunting for your own eyes. And he sighs, low and heavy, groaning as they leave the paperwork on wood in defeat.

Mercy, his body language pleads.

“I only got a few of ‘em.” Katsuki grunts and grumbles, leaning up to open a drawer while you shut the door and careen toward him. His eyes dart toward you for a moment and then he rolls backward in his chair. Away from you.

You gawk at the thin drawer filled with a plethora of your lip balms. The shame from katsuki radiates as you tilt your head in confusion and awe.

You turn on your heel with a brow raised.

“Why do you have them?”

Pink lips pout out for a moment, you notice his tongue swiping over his teeth before he sighs for the umpteenth time.

“You taste good— n’ I keep forgetting to give ‘em back.” The pro hero pouts and mumbles a half ass excuse.

You walk closer, standing between his knees now, brows still raised expectantly.

“God fine. Goddamnit, they taste good and my lips are dry so I use them all the time. But I forget to give them back, then I get another, and forget again.”

The exasperated, mildly embarrassed look on his face makes you Cave. You practically coo, looking at his flushed tan cheeks and angry look. His brows furrowed, arms crossed over his chest and pouting like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby, you can use my lip balms but you gotta bring them back..” you lean forward and kiss the furrow of his brows ”.. it’s kinda cute, but seriously, some of these fuckers are expensive. And some of them are lip plumpers.”

His brows shoot to his hair line, cherry eyes widening as he seems to put two and two together.

Katsuki frowns again and looks away, not wanting to admit it.

“You gotta be shitting me. That’s why my lips have been burning like satans asshole.” His hands fumble around with his pockets until he pulls out a balm— made for lip plumping.

“Yup. Fucker, that’s what you get.” You snicker.

[bobathirstaccount]

💚💚💚💚

[bon-sides-sw]

Commission done for @babygirlbridger and @krispyswips A really great scene of their Fic To Our Halcyon Days (E)

If you like my art or want to leave a tip, buy me a Ko-Fi!!

[bobathirstaccount]

Only Love PT II

Boba x fem!reader, Boba & oc, domestic fluff, smut

TW (?): parenthood

Mando’a Translations 

mesh’la - beautiful 

Part One

***

Boba woke up to his girl jumping on the other side of the bed. Groggy, he laid there, tolerating it.

“Daddy! I want breakfast,” she demanded. He heard you laugh, “So much for a peaceful morning…”

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. The girl collapsed into the mattress next to him and grabbed his upper arm. Holding it as tightly as she could, she commanded, “Get me cereal.”

He laughed at her confident demand-making. She released him to put her hands on her hips impatiently. “Okay, as you wish,” he hopped over your prone form out of bed, and headed towards the mess.

***

When he returned, you and his girl were chatting. “Just ask him,” you said simply. She seemed doubtful.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and offered the cereal to his kid. She took it gladly. “Ask me what?” He rubbed your foot under the sheet.

“Mm, she needs to ask,” you murmured, still sleepy. His eyes flicked to her. She was engrossed in her food. Smiling, he looked back at you. You were still lying face down in the bed. “Gonna go back to sleep?”

You rolled over slowly, “Nah, should get up.”

“Why?” Nothing was scheduled today. There was nothing to do but relax.

“She needs to be there to see,” the cereal was gone.

He turned to her, “You gonna ask me now?”

Suddenly she was shy. You prodder her, “Go on.”

“Can I… can you… show me how to use the blaster you got me today?” She rushed through the question. “I named her Soly,” she added.

He smiled. “Of course,” he grabbed your ankle through the sheets, “now I see why you have to get up.” You sighed sleepily, “Yup. Big deal.”

***

She sighted down the barrel like Boba had shown her. He smiled. The gun, although small, was still heavy in her hands. Her outstretched arms shook slightly.

You slid your hand into Boba’s. He looked over at you, feeling shy. You were watching his girl, but you squeezed his hand. He smiled slightly more broadly before refocusing his attention.

Ping! The piece of shrapnel flew off into the sand. “Great job!” Boba exclaimed, “you’re a natural.”

She giggled, then became serious as she aimed at the next target. Ping! Boba was impressed. She really was a natural. Proud, he claimed, “Soon you’ll be better than me.” His girl turned around, smiling happily, “I wanna be like you when I grow up.”

He shrugged, not too sure about that.  But you responded to her, “You’re already off to a great start.” She turned back to her target practice, pleased.

***

The fire crackled in the night, the sparks flying off into deep darkness. The desert was very dark tonight. His girl snuggled into him, sleepy. You rested your body against his on the other side.

“Should we go inside?” He didn’t want to, but it was past his girl’s bedtime. You sighed, “Hmmm, not yet. This is nice out here.”

He wrapped an arm around both of you, content. A snore sounded. You laughed softly, “Out like clockwork.”

He felt protective, “I’ll take her to bed, then we can stay out here for as long as we like.” He released you and carefully picked the small, sleeping form up. Carefully, he headed inside.

***

He placed her gently in the bed. She stirred slightly. “Daddy…” he shushed her softly, “Time for sleep now, go back to sleep.” She murmured something, then started breathing deeply again. He looked down at her. She was healthy looking and her hair was growing back in. He was pleased. She was well taken care of now. And she would always be.

***

Out by the fire, you grew impatient. Where was Boba? You were a bit lonely. Which was silly, but there it was. You wanted your man. You sat calmly, letting the impatience follow its course.

A hand landed on your shoulder. You yelped, startled. Boba laughed softly as he sat next to you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, now we’re alone…” he trailed off, holding you gently.

You sat there for awhile, just enjoying each other’s company. Finally, you said, “So, you gonna woo me, or what?”

“Hm, like what?” Boba was far away, thinking of teaching his girl how to fly Slave 1.

You gave a short laugh before instructing him, “Don’t you want me to put out? So, convince me.”

His hands slid up your body to your shoulders. As he started to massage your tense neck, he murmured softly, “Like this?”

“More.”

He kissed your neck as he grabbed your waist, wrapping one around you. The other continued to gently massage your shoulder. You sighed, contented, as Boba pulled you close against himself. Finally both arms were around you, and he was kissing up the side of your neck to your ear.

“How’s this?” He purred softly, his gravelly voice barely audible. You turned your head to kiss him, “You always so good with the ladies?”

He laughed quietly, “All that practice was for you.”

You kissed him affectionately. “Is that all I get?” he teased.

Smiling, you invited, “Take my clothes off.”

Rumbling happily, he gently tugged your cardigan off. Next, he started working on your shirt. He cupped your breasts as he pulled it over your head, his strong hands sliding slowly upwards.

“Hmm, you’re so soft,” Boba squeezed you gently. Planting a kiss on your now bare shoulder, he asked, “How come you smell so good?”

His hands slid down to the waistband of your pants. “How come you feel so good?” His fingers started to undo your pants. Biting the side of your neck softly, Boba let his hands roam, wriggling them between your pants and skin. “Hmm, I think you have too much clothing on still…” his fingers grazed the hem of your panties.

“Well what are you gonna do about that?” you teased. His fingers curled around your clothing. He rumbled, “Fix it.” He forcefully pulled your pants and underwear off. Throwing you down onto a blanket, he pulled your legs apart and kissed up your thigh to your pussy. Licking your upper thigh, he asked, “Can I?”

Your head had already lolled back. You looked down at Boba, feeling frisky, “Pleeaaase.” He smiled slightly before licking into you. Squirming, you mumbled his name softly as his hands grabbed your asscheeks. He lifted his head momentarily, “I’m so lucky… getting to eat this pussy.” He lapped into your cunt again, making you moan and squirm under him.

Finding your clit, he twirled his tongue and circled your entrance with two fingers. Pressing into you slightly, he sucked on your clit. You saw stars as you grunted his name, pussy hot and needy. “Hmmm, you need something, baby?” His voice was rough.

“Need you… need your cock…” you mumbled, delirious.

Boba shifted your body, pulling you up into his lap. Undoing his pants, he rumbled, “You’re so good to me…” Kissing your collarbone, he positioned you over himself. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your upper thigh. He pulled you down slowly, his cock sliding up and between your legs, nestling into your wet folds. He stopped when he was at your entrance.

Kissing up your neck to your mouth, he kissed you hard as he pulled you down onto himself. You wrapped your arms around him as he held you in place and fucked you. Still kissing you, he stopped moving, holding you tightly. He finally broke the kiss to murmur, “So hot and wet for me… you’re so nasty mesh’la.” Before you could respond, he slammed his lips against yours and resumed fucking you. His urgency increased, and he laid you down into the blanket. Resting his weight on his elbows, he fucked into you hard and fast. You felt yourself getting close. Arching your back slightly, you begged, “More.”

Boba obeyed, pounding rhythmically into you, making wet fucking noises as he did. He started to grunt, softly at first, but soon he was loudly grunting your name. He bite into your neck unexpectedly, just hard enough to surprise you. His breath was hot against your skin as he kissed up your throat to your ear. “Cum for me, nasty girl,” he pressed his lips against your ear, his cock sliding in and out of you fast and hard. He moaned into your ear, again asking you to cum for him, calling you nasty pet names softly. You tried to hold off on cumming. It felt too good to stop.

Boba’s hips stuttered momentarily. He grunted, “Gonna make me cum before you… don’t make me be that guy…” he groaned, his hips slamming into you, “Be a good girl…” He grabbed the back of your head and railed into you, making you squeak. You couldn’t take it anymore. As you started to cum, you heard Boba groan, “Be a good girl and cum on me. Cum for me, mesh’la.”

You felt your body go limp as your lower belly exploded in fiery pleasure. Your pussy clamped down hard on him as you closed your eyes and moaned his name. Grunting, he praised you, “Hmmm, I knew you had it in you, mesh’la… you’re so good for me.” You relaxed into the blanket as he thrust into you a few more times. You moaned softly as he pulled out to cum, purring your name into your ear. It made you shudder.

Finally he laid down next to you and pulled you tight against himself. You two laid under the dim stars as the fire died.

Suddenly Boba sat up. “Who’s there?” He sounded intimidating.

“…Daddy?”

Boba’s tone immediately changed, “What is it, little one?”

She sniffled, then confessed, “I had a nightmare.”

You sat up and pulled your clothes back on as Boba quickly readjusted his, saying, “Come here and tell us about it.”

She ran to you, jumping straight into Boba’s waiting arms. You patted her head as Boba kissed her temple.

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly.

“I… I dreamed we were back at the slave market. Before Daddy rescued us.” She whimpered softly. You snuggled into Boba’s embrace, wrapping an arm around her, “That’s terrible, baby.”

Boba kissed her head, “You know I’ll always protect you.” She nodded. Boba told the both of you an old bounty hunting story of his. By the end, the small form in your joint embrace was snoring.

Smiling, you asked, “Time to go in?”

Boba nodded, “Before we spend the entire night out here.” You stood slowly, watching Boba carry your girl back inside the ship. You shook the sand out of the blanket and followed. Closing the ship up, you missed the strange light flcikering out in the the desert.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Say Yes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, heavy suggestive themes, protective!Boba, Mandalorian!Boba, light angst, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 2.5k

A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart riduur – partner / spouse “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” – marriage vows

“Marry me, cyar’ika.”

You glance up from the worn open tome resting on the counter in front of you. “Again? Really, Boba?”

The Mandalorian helmet, dented with flaking green paint, tilts slightly to the right. “You called me ‘Boba’ this time,” teases the bounty hunter.

You roll your eyes and push off from the counter, cheeks heating even as you grumble in false irritation.

Boba Fett, Jabba the Hutt’s favorite mercenary for hire, has asked you to marry him every day for several weeks now. And each time, you have refused him. For the first few, you were overly polite. But as his attempts continued, your polite rejections transformed into snarky quips and blatant dismissals.

It’s not like you don’t find the man attractive. Underneath the armor is an incredibly handsome man, and his attention has always been sincere. But Boba Fett is a dangerous man, and you’re just a simple shopkeeper trying to make a living in Mos Espa. In that regard, the two of you are incompatible no matter how much he persists and chases after you.

“I like how you say my name,” continues Boba, his voice a soft purr. “Sounds beautiful on your tongue.”

“And you are too forward,” you snap, knowing that your sharpness is just a cover. Which is silly, because you do like him, and Boba seems to understand this. Boba burrows beneath your skin, and you cannot dig him out.

“Am I?” he asks with mock offense. You really want to throttle him, but you also really want to kiss him.

“Yes. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Fett,” you emphasize, deliberately using his last name. “But a ‘no’ is a ‘no’ even if you don’t like it.”

Yep. Push him away. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll take the hint this time.

Boba Fett stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped. With the helmet on, you have no idea what his expression might be or what he’s feeling. Not knowing is maddening, and it quickens your heartbeat, a growing tingle buzzing in the tips of your fingers.

“So, all those touches meant nothing to you?” he asks with just the faintest hint of roughness in his tone.

“Yes,” you lie.

Boba shifts on his feet, shoulders straightening. “What about all the kisses you’ve given me? Hm? Nothing?”

Kriffing hell, why is this man always so direct? It’s nice that Boba is good about telling you what he wants and what he’s thinking for the most part, but it always catches you off-guard. It makes you weak, melting you into goo that he can mold however he wishes.

“Those are not enough to build a marriage, Boba,” you shrug. “There has to be more.”

“But there is more.” He steps around the counter, stepping into your space. “Isn’t there?”

Boba is right. There is more. There has always been more. Whenever Boba is on Tatooine, he is visiting you, talking with you, bringing you gifts, fixing things around the shop without you having to ask. He has offered to take you out after you’ve closed shop. He routinely takes a personal interest in your safety and security. Because of that, no one bothers you or tries to harass additional credits out of you. They stay away and respect you because they see you as Boba’s woman.

And it isn’t only that. He only ever speaks softly to you. He only ever treats you with respect and shows general interest in your life. The most maddening thing is how many women have actively shown their interest in him to his face, and he has brushed them all aside. Even after all these refusals on your end, Boba still declines their advances, and shows up at your shop each day insisting that you marry him.

“Why do you keep denying this, cyar’ika? You know I’d make you happy.” Boba is standing too close, almost on top of you.

“The shop is closed,” you reply. “If you’re not going to make a purchase, you should leave.”

Boba nods his head and backs up, reaching for an item off the shelf without looking. He deposits some credits on the counter, much more than what the item is actually worth.

“I’ll return tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder, tapping the counter as he makes his exit.

The soft chime that alerts you to when the front door opens echoes throughout the room.

You’re in the backroom organizing. It’s the next day, and Boba hasn’t shown himself yet. This might be him, but it’s likely not. There are times when Boba does not come, and you are fully aware that those are times when Jabba sends him off for a job.

“Sorry. We’re closed.” You step out from the backroom and immediately freeze.

Three Nikto bikers loiter in the middle of the shop. It’s evident that they are not here to purchase anything. Their dark eyes roam over the shelves and tables, but once they notice you, they focus in, drawing closer.

“Apologies,” you say, attempting to project your voice, to sound tougher than you are. “We’ve closed for the evening. If there is something you need right away, I can ring you up. Otherwise, you’ll need to leave.” You do your best to keep your voice steady and calm, but you hear the gentle shake.

“This street is our new territory,” hisses the leader of the group. “We were stopping by to offer our…services.”

Services, meaning protection, meaning “pay us or you’ll be a target.”

Tatooine might be overrun with crime lords and criminal activity, but the main powers at play are not known to harass the smaller folks just trying to make a living. These are outliers. These are individuals who answer to no one but themselves, and believe they can carve a piece out for their own gain.

Rarely are they ever successful, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, the soft chime comes again. This time everyone turns and you sigh with relief when you see who it is.

“Boba Fett,” says the Nikto slowly. His shoulders stiffen and they all put their hands on their blasters.

The bounty hunter does no answer right away. His helmet moves, scanning the Nikto, and then you, assessing. Even from across the shop, you sense Boba’s anger. There are few things that rile him up, but you’re one of them.

“It’s not smart moving in on Jabba’s territory. Or to harass what’s mine.” When Boba says mine, he growls it. The possessiveness in his tone heats your flesh, sends a sharp spike of desire down to your belly.

The Nikto all glance at each other before the leader addresses Fett. “We didn’t know the female was yours, Boba.” He holds his hands out in a placating gesture, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. Yet you know that isn’t true. Their intention from the start was to harass you for credits.

You scoff at female but decide to let it go.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” Boba steps to the side.

The duo glance at their leader for direction. The Nikto’s features are impassive, but he eventually inclines his head, exiting as Boba insist they do. When the last one leaves, Boba momentarily glances in your direction. The door stands open, and Boba exits with him.

When it whooshes shut, you sprint over to the wall panel, immediately engaging the lock and shuttering the windows. You stand in the silent shop for a few minutes trying to calm your heartrate. Once it’s manageable, and not beating so hard it might burst from your chest, you head upstairs to your small apartment above the shop.

By the time you’re curled up in bed, you’re no longer anxious, but there is the slightest bit of tension that lingers in your limbs. Sighing, you turn over in the bed, only to hear the brief pulse of a jetpack shutting off and boots on the small balcony outside your bedroom window.

Slowly, you push up to sitting, the bedsheets falling to your waist. You know it’s Boba. He does this some nights. Camps out and protect you in the only way he knows how because you’re too stubborn to take him up on his numerous marriage proposals.

Tonight, it’s obvious as to why he’s out there. Part of you is reluctant to leave him outside. You’d prefer it if he were with you, within arm’s reach, to see him without the helmet. Plus, nights on Tatooine can grow cold. You want him inside where it’s warm.

On quiet feet, you go to the door that leads outside. Opening it silently, you stick your head out into the chilly air, finding Boba as he leans against the exterior wall, arms crossed.

“You should be in bed, cyar’ika,” chides Boba playfully.

You swallow, suddenly nervous now that you’re confronting him. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask, a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it’s the uncertainty in your tone, or the way you shrink back a bit into the interior of the room, because Boba is suddenly alert, all of his attention attuned to you.

Boba immediately pushes off from the wall and approaches you, his hand on the door, pushing it wider. “Are you hurt? Did one of them touch you?”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. I’m fine. Promise.”

Boba’s chest heaves slightly but you’re not sure if it’s from his sudden movement or a releasing of relief. He glances over his shoulder at Mos Espa, the t-shaped visor of his helmet fixated on the city’s skyline. Turning back, Boba nods.

You step away from the door and Boba enters. Even with the door closed and the windows’ shutters slanted to dim the moonlight, some of it still spills over the room like tiny white rivers.

His helmet hisses as the pressure seal disengages. Slowly, Boba lifts the helmet off his head and sets it aside on a nearby table. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the ends sticking up slightly after he does so. With the faintest movement, Boba turns, and that moonlight cuts sharp glowing lines over his face, highlighting tanned skin and dark eyes.

You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until Boba grabs you by the waist and pulls you against his armor-clad body. Instinctively, your hands reach out, locking onto the beskar. Boba’s head dips and yours rises to meet him automatically, and yet there is no connection. It is simply holding, a waiting between two hesitant people.

“You haven’t asked me to marry you today,” you murmur.

The corner of Boba’s lips turns upward in a soft smile. “Will you marry me, cyar’ika?”

“No,” you say automatically, before the two of you start laughing.

“Let’s try that again.” Boba reaches up and cradles your cheek. “Cyar’ika. Will you marry me? Will you allow me to speak the words of my people? And will you speak them back?”

The words of his people. The Mandalorian marriage vows. You are distinctly aware of what they are and what they mean. Which is why Boba’s earnestness isn’t fake to you. Mandalorians take their weddings vows seriously even though the process of exchange is simple. It is the intention behind the exchange that is most important to them.

That is how you know Boba speaks the truth, that him asking you to marry him is a genuine desire of his.

“Passion does not make a relationship,” you reply.

The answer is a shift away from actually having to answer. How many times have you and Boba ended up on the floor of the backroom after rejecting him? It’s more than you can count on your hands.

“That’s all this is to you?” he laughs. “You know I can give you more. I do more than that now.”

You curl forward a bit, rest your forehead against the beskar. “I’m scared,” you whisper.

“Of what?”

“Of what will change.”

Boba’s fingers brush under your chin and lightly guide your gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t ask you to give anything up.”

“Yes, but—”

Boba gives the slightest shake of his head and you instantly quiet. “Do you want me?” he asks. “Tell the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I want you,” you breathe, allowing the words to drip off your tongue.

“May I have one of your kisses?” he asks softly, one gloved thumb lightly pressing down on your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you breathe.

Boba closes the distance, forms perfectly to you. It is slow and delicate and sweet. Your body hums with energy, and when you press for more, Boba growls and pulls back, hastily ripping off his gloves to reveal his bare hands.

Then he’s cupping the side of your face, drawing you back to him, tasting and tasting and tasting until your fingers are clawing at him in desperation. When he breaks the kiss, you still lean forward as if you can reach him.

“Then repeat the words with me, cyar’ika. Become my riduur.”

Boba presses his lips to yours, draws forth an air-stealing shiver from deep within your lungs.

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.

We are one together.

Boba slides an arm around your waist to drape softly over your curves. “Mhi solus dar’tome,” he says.

You say it back to him. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when parted.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

We share all.

This time, Boba slots his pelvis against yours, and you understand his heated intention.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you say with shaky breath.

We will raise warriors.

Boba snuggles the side of your neck, breathes in your scent. “I’d like to lay with my riduur.” His fingers find the edge of your sleeping robes.

“As long as I can have my riduur the same way.”

Boba grins against your throat. Together, the two of you remove his armor, piece by piece by piece. The moment his flightsuit is unzipped and he steps out of it, Boba is on you, drawing your lips to his, desperately claiming what is now so rightfully his.

Your own clothes are gone before making it to the bed. Boba runs his hands over your back, sliding down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his middle, and Boba carries you off, placing you gently onto your back.

His mouth upon your skin is a brand. Hot. Searing. It goes lower, lower still until you’re crying out for him, begging for him to be with you as your riduur should. Boba is happy to do so, sliding between your thighs so perfectly, you both lose yourselves momentarily before becoming nothing but a raging storm, waves crashing into each other repeatedly until one of you breaks.

Rest does not come until the morning suns begin to ascend over the horizon. You do not open your shop. And Boba does not return to Jabba’s palace.

There is peace for a while.

Harmony.

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