#book of boba fett smut

[echoedcrosshairs]

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.”

[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.

taglist:

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[lex-the-flex]

Cosmic Veins

Luke Skywalker x reader

Summary: Rekindling after an unfortunate assignment, Luke devotes himself as the wonderful man that he is to strengthen your relationship, and fulfills only a fraction of his destiny.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, the reader and Luke just being in love, all the feelings; (both good & bad), mentions of amnesia, the reader + Luke being slightly insecure about the future, just two Jedi in their prime, Luke being a dutiful Jedi Master, the duo discovering their love languages, 18 + – PURE SMUT, loss of virginity (reader), oral f! receiving, body + skin appreciation, and unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it, kids)

A/N: It’s about time that I wrote for Luke! It’s been a hot minute and I love this man so much. 18+ FIC, MINORS DNI!! Thank you to @dailydragon08 for the AMAZING lines to kick off the smut. You're an absolute god! Feedback is always appreciated and enjoy!

Salt and lavender lingered through the air whilst the calming sounds of Naboo’s endless waves turn your room into the private sanctuary it was meant to be. The sun threatens to peek over the horizon of the still ocean while you stir in your sleep beneath the fresh silk bedding. Turning your head into the layers of plush pillows, your brows scrunch at the visions behind your eyes. Jolting awake, you gasped for air, praying that the dreams would soon end. 

The conflict finally subsided in the past, but the wounds remain on your heart. Luke had returned from the Dark Side, from the vile control of an evil presence that you never got to meet. Unfortunately, when Leia couldn’t find it in herself to fight her own brother, her twin, you were put on the chopping block. 

And it nearly cost your life. You were thrown into a coma for two months, but the worst part: you suffered from a miniscule moment of amnesia. You couldn’t remember anything about Luke Skywalker or your friends. Luckily they refused to give up and you recovered in time with the Rebellion by your side. Once you did, Leia immediately prompted a change of scenery for you and Luke. The two of you needed to get away from everything to heal. 

Removing your hand from your chest, you ran it along the empty side of the bed where you expected Luke to be. But he wasn’t. He refused to sleep in the same bed as you, in fear of hurting you, so he took to the marble floor. Gazing over to his usual spot on the floor by the changing screen, the makeshift bedding was messy, and he was gone. Twirling the engagement band around your ring finger, you fixate on the pale amethyst encased in silver within the dim light, and you remember why Luke gave it to you in the first place.

Wiping your face, you spotted your dark ebony robes neatly folded on the desk, and the room’s scents kickstarted the day. So with a heavy sigh, you quietly got dressed, and your faithful handmaid, Winter, brought you breakfast and to announce that Luke promptly requested to see you on the beach. You could feel that something was different in the air; he had good news to share, and a smile finally filled your lips for the first time in a long time. Descending the stone steps of the courtyard to the beach, you finished your early breakfast and discarded the pear’s core amongst the flower bushes where it would be finished by the sparrows momentarily. 

Rounding the corner, you spotted Luke amongst the dawn as your boots crunched the pebbled sand below. Noticing that he was deep in a meditative state, you quietly kept your distance, not wanting to disturb him. Glancing back towards the staircase, you thought about leaving for a second, but your feet remained planted.

“No, don’t go. You’re as strong as the waves, Y/N.” 

Inching closer to Luke, a large smile overtakes his lips, and he closes his arms around you. Feeling yourself let go in his embrace, his warmth was comforting as if it was something you were missing. Basking in your company, Luke kisses your forehead. 

“Everything alright? You’re trembling.” He asks, running his hands up and down your arms. 

“I’m fine, Luke. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You reply, gazing into his blue eyes. 

“Are your dreams still bothering you?” He asks. 

Raising his hand to your temple, Luke silently begins to peer into your mind, ready to discover what’s troubling you. But you take his gloved hand in yours instead. 

Rubbing your knuckles, he quietly understands that your nightmares are at their end, as is the shared exile. 

“They’re not the worst thing I’ve dealt with. Trust me.” You smirk. 

Chuckling at your response, Luke shields his eyes at the sight of the morning sun starting to peer out from under the waves. Basking in your company, Luke clasps his hands around your shoulders and a burst of excitement fills his face. 

“So, I have a small surprise for us, Y/N. Before my security team arrived, my Commander told me that he discovered something just off the coast.” Luke explains, leading you further down the beach. 

“A surprise sounds lovely, Luke. Besides, it gives us a chance to evade the power hungry Senators and staff for once.” You laugh at Luke’s proposition. 

Following Luke towards the end of the beach, the various oak trees start to blend with the damp sand and pebbles. Reaching the beginning of Naboo’s uncharted woods, the sight of a few broken rock walls line the shore before descending into the water. Taking in the new beauty of the planet’s nature, Luke playfully covers your eyes, careful not to spoil the surprise. 

“Are you ready? We’re here.” He teases. 

“Yes! The suspense is killing me, Luke! What is it?” You ask, trying to break his fingers apart. 

Removing his hands, you’re suddenly greeted with the view of an old and abandoned stone tower jutting out from the water. Surrounded by a ring of ferns and moss, the tower perfectly camouflages in the rest of the planet's green fauna. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor at this awesome sight. Sure you and Luke had discovered many old ruins in the past, but nothing compared to this. 

“It’s an old lookout tower. Long before the Clone Wars, Naboo’s trading system used to operate on its soldiers living in lookout towers. Commander Uphsur said that this is only one of two remaining. I've already taken a look at the other one, but there’s something special about this tower. Like it’s calling to me.” Luke confidently explains. 

Refusing to believe him, you shoot him a nasty look. 

“Did you just make that up?” You question, crossing your arms together. 

“Yeah, I just made that up.” Luke nods, admitting his defeat. 

Nudging his elbow, you both smile at his joke. 

“Alright, Master Jedi, how are we getting across? We could jump.” You advise. 

Climbing to the top of a small boulder, Luke offers his hand and you join him, getting a better view of the tower. Then, without thinking, he dives into the cold water and resurfaces with a gasp for fresh air. 

“Luke, what are you doing? You’ll catch a cold!” You shout, hesitant about jumping in. 

“Come on, the water’s only a little chilly! Let’s enjoy the ocean while we can!” He emphasizes, wiping his wet hair from his face. 

With a deep breath, you launch yourself from the boulder and jump into the salty water below. Whining at the freezing water, the sound of Luke’s laughter fills the nature sanctuary. 

“Oh, you liar! You actually thought swimming during the spring would be a good idea?!” You shout, frantically swimming towards Luke. 

“I had to get you to join me somehow.” Luke replies at his victory. 

Splashing a wave in Luke’s direction, he uses the Force to block the water before meeting up at the base of the tower. 

“Now that’s cheating! How dare you block my shot!” You say, making your way to the tower. 

“Don’t doubt my abilities, Y/N! Besides, we all could use some fun in our lives.” Luke answers, extending his hand down to you. 

Joining your palm around Luke’s, he pulls you from the stream, satisfied with his trick. Shaking your drenched robes, you scoff at the foggy weather. Opening the old door, Luke rams his shoulder, cracking the weather wood in the process. Wandering inside the tower, the blinding light of the morning sun shines on the light grey stone flooring. 

Squinting inside, the once lived in tower remains empty with nothing inside. Squeezing your braid, you try to get as much of the water out as you make a circle around the room’s interior. Scrunching your brows, you take in the emptiness of this place, wondering as to why Luke brought you here. 

“There’s nothing in here. Why are we here, Luke?” You ask, unlatching your heavy cloak from your shoulders. 

Standing above the remnants of an destroyed tiny desk, Luke wipes off his dusty gloves. 

“Can’t I spend some time with my fiancée before we return to Ossus? That’s all I want right now.” Luke replies, with his back to you. 

“Luke, why are we here?” You ask again with a more serious tone, determined to get an answer. 

Turning to face you, Luke steps toward you, stopping to look you in the eye. 

“I couldn’t have the Senators and the others in the Palace eavesdrop. I already feel like a foreigner in my mother’s domain and you know I’m right. The truth is, I’m scared, Y/N. I’m terrified of what the future will bring …especially after I hurt you. I nearly killed you with my own hands and I wasn’t myself.” Luke’s shaking voice makes tears fill your eyes. 

A lump rises in the back of your throat whilst Luke bends his head down to you, almost as if he’s bowing to you out of respect. Taking your hands in his, he guides his thumb over the engagement ring he gifted to you out of pure duty. 

“But I’m here. I’m alive and stronger than ever because of you, Luke. I know the gem doesn’t feel like much, but it means the world to me. It means you love me with all our heart. I’ve never had anyone step up the way you have, regardless if they were a Jedi or not. You are your father’s son, Luke, but you are so much like your mother.” You explain, taking Luke’s face in your hands, with your eyes fixated on his facial features. 

“Will this change us from our paths, Y/N? I’ve gone past the Code. I’ve been on both sides of the Jedi Way, but this feels different from anything else I’ve felt before. Even though we aren’t meant to know the future, I can’t help but decide what I want, what I need.” He explains, walking closer to you.

Placing your hand in the center of his chest, Luke leans his forehead against yours, matching his heartbeat in time with your soothing rhythm. The pale amethyst beams up into Luke’s peripheral vision, allowing him to fully combat the moment. His bright icy eyes reflect against your e/c orbs just as his pink lips hover an inch above yours. 

The presence of his hands playing with your belt’s sash makes butterflies rise in your stomach. As the two of you stood here in this private intimate point in time, the two of you were no longer Jedi. But two people who are in love with each other to the very core. 

“What do you want?” You ask, raising your chin. 

Breathing out, Luke swallows his pride. 

“You.” 

Closing his lips around yours, you barely have time to register his answer as his hands begin to wander along your drenched robes. Roaming against the seams and stitching of the sash at your hips, Luke quickly rids you of the tight knot, while guiding you backwards into the growing sunspot. Discarding the ebony robes from your chilled form, freeing your exposed chest underneath. Descending your goosebumped filled body, Luke glides his lips along every part of your exposed skin, and tugs around the shape of your breasts, letting go once you begin to shiver unnaturally from the cold.

Untying your boots, he pulls your pants from your shaking legs, hoping to quickly get you warm. Ridding himself of his frigid clothes, Luke is suddenly hypnotized by the beauty of your nude form, his lips pressed along the crease of your hips, and continues towards the sensitive skin of your thighs. Collecting your throbbing folds in his lips, your mouth falls open just as Luke’s tongue plays with the bundle of nerves. 

Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, Luke inserts his tongue past your virgin entrance, hoping to explore all of you first. Moaning at this unfamiliar feeling, your fingers repeatedly scratch his scalp as the booming sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, drowning out every other sound. 

“Luke?” You call out. 

Immediately stopping, Luke stands up in a heartbeat and gives you all of his attention.

“Yes?” He responds, taking your chin in his hand.

“I need all of you.” You whisper before him. 

Collapsing your arms around his broad shoulders, your nearly exhausted pants fill the air. 

Deepening the kiss once more, Luke captures your taste in your mouth, before laying you down in the middle of the floor on top of his cloak. Hovering above your body, Luke gives you soft kisses along your jaw, allowing some of your tension to disappear. Closing the space between you, Luke guides your legs around his waist, opening yourself to him. Shifting yourself to get comfortable, Luke adjusts his weight to his knees, and presses his hands on either side of your face. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Luke says, touching your nose with his. 

“You won’t, Luke. I trust you.” You whisper, closing your eyes. 

Capturing your neck with a series of kisses, Luke gently touches his manhood against your openings causing you to gulp at the sensation of it all. Teasing your throbbing folds with his erect tip, a gasp escapes your lips and you grip his broad shoulders at the unknown feeling of your bodies melting around each other. Your bundle of nerves soak up Luke’s warmth and he slowly thrusts himself past your entrance, Luke desperately wanted nothing more than to be deep inside of you, allowing you to surrender to his euphoria. Wincing at this foreign feeling, you lean into his arms, silently begging for support and Luke senses your growing desperation. 

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He asks into your ear. 

“No, I’m alright. Just keep going.” You answer. 

Smiling at your sudden boost of confidence, Luke quickened his pace, wanting to feel you around him. Trailing his lips down to your collarbones, the sweet sounds of your shared moans became more valuable than anything on Naboo. Gliding your hands down Luke’s muscular form, you suddenly became overwhelmed with all the love and lust in the world, causing a few tears to fall down your face. 

Pepper kissing your tears away, Luke’s lungs suddenly clogged with lust as he opened himself up to you, and he buried his face in the softness of your neck. Stretching himself out, you welcomed his pleasure into your heart as he placed his hand on your chest. Discovering your sensitive spot, you both moaned and whimpered at how good everything felt. Digging your nails deeper into Luke’s hot skin, you felt a fluttering in your stomach. 

“I’m here, Y/N.” Luke says as his voice echoes in your ears. 

Nodding at his declaration, you couldn’t handle the tension for a second longer, and your walls squeezed around Luke. Finishing after you, your whole body went numb and Luke’s ears started to ring. Shielding your nude skin from the cold, Luke pulled his cloak around tired body. Hugging his muscular form, the warmth of his cloak made your eyelids grow heavy as Luke gave you his arm to lay on.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N. Even until the end of time.” Luke declares, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. 

“I love you beyond the limits of stars, Luke.” You reply, feeling sleep take over your mind. 

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@acupnoodle

@flawros

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[sinfulsalutations]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕧𝕚𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕓𝕠𝕓𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕥𝕥

⋆ ★ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2023 ʟɪɴᴇᴜᴘ

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʙᴏʙᴀ ꜰᴇᴛᴛ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ʙᴏʙᴀ, ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀʟ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴘᴇɴɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀ ꜱᴇx, ʟᴏꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪʀɢɪɴɪᴛʏ

⋆ ★ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪʀʟɪᴇ ᴛᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴜꜱᴄʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴘʀᴇᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘɪᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴜꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʏ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ʙᴏʙᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʙᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :)

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

You’ve never felt this small before.

One of the most feared men in the galaxy is between your legs, holding you so softly and carefully as if you might shatter at any moment. Such a tactile man, hardened from years of battle, now rightfully in your arms, rightfully claiming you, in such a manner nothing else could’ve been destined.

“Oh…” It’s just a simple sigh, a gentle commendation of his slow, concentrated strokes with his tongue. You want to say more, tell Boba how good it feels, how good he’s making you feel, but you’re rendered to a simple blubber and string of words that pathetically make up fractured sentences and pleasant, flimsy moans. He rumbles between your thighs, the vibrations sending a shiver down your legs and making your toes curl every so slightly. You dig a heel into his shoulder.

Boba pulls away from your sopping cunt, swiping his tongue over his lips to gather your lingering taste there, and gazes up. His stare is surprisingly unusually sweet. Unusually tender.

“How are you feeling, little one?” He asks you, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your inner thighs, tantalizingly close to your outer lips. A hiss uncoils out of your tongue and your chest heaves with a heavy breath. Boba waits patiently.

“Really good, Boba.” You even make the gesture and effort to lean your body onto one hand instead of both, taking the free one to hold his cheek. The merciless bounty hunter melts in your hold; he turns his head to leave a firm kiss on your palm. Then your thumb. Then your index. He kisses each tip of your finger as you compose your next thoughts. “I feel really good.”

Something of a grin reaches his lips; it isn’t one typical of a regular man, but it’s a characteristically hardened expression that means all the more to you. It means he’s grateful, savoring each moment he has with you. Your heart swells and arousal pools.

He returns to the task beforehand; easy strokes of his tongue ease you back into the feeling before he trails a hand up, closer to your entrance where he hasn’t been before. As you feel the tip of the first knuckle undulate small, contained circles, you squeal quietly. Boba perks up.

“Do you want me to continue?”

It’s not a hard decision to make. You nod your head, adding a sweet ‘yes,’ voice just a little breather than before.

Boba’s hand glides over the top of your entrance, fingertips a phantom touch barely caressing your pussy, yet it’s enough to make you tremble. Then, he presses further. He makes his touch more purposeful.

Gathering dollops of wetness for a moment, rubbing the spend over one digit, before sliding it in slowly. Soothing yet nerve-wracking all the same.

But then, the finger is seated in you with little resistance. Little pain. You feel your warmth hug his appendage, keeping it firmly inside of you as you stretch just the slightest bit (yet more than you ever have), and sigh sweetly.

“Mm…” You hum, eyes fluttering close for a minute. The soft noise of praise you can’t distinguish and the featherlight peck on your inner thigh bring you back to the moment.

“Good job,” is all he says. Yet it’s all enough. You see in his gaze the fascination, the utter reverence in his stare that makes you want to curl up into yourself and scream into the sheets to never rise up again. But you keep your stare on him.

Boba lifts himself up, resting his knees between yours to spread you out further and join you on his expansive bed. As if you couldn’t relax any further, your shoulders practically sink into the mattress beneath you, and his eyes twinkle.

He must love this.

You’d hope so, at least.

“Hm, look at yourself, little one.” The praise sends you into another frenzy, breathing low in your stomach stagnated. “‘Getting stretched out nice and good. Taking my fingers like a good little princess.”

“Boba,” You sob quietly, feeling the digit sink deeper into you. Many times you’ve brought a release with your own fingers, but they’re nothing compared to his. Not as big, not as thick. He just manages to be gentle enough to leave you only slightly uncomfortable, yet the slow movement of his hand and wrist rocking back and forth, back and forth is already bringing you to the brink of orgasm.

Boba can feel it.

“How many fingers do you need, baby?”

You mouth something that he doesn’t seem to understand, instead deciding for you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear.

“Three?”

The only thing you can do is whine and rock your hips.

“Yeah, I think you do,” Boba answers his own question, pushing in a second finger with little resistance from your body and fucking you with his fingers steadily. “`Gonna need some stretching if you want me to deflower you.”

You just manage to stave off your orgasm until he gets a third finger in, leaving you positively soaked and stretched more than you’ve ever been before. Boba stays silent, breathing in his stomach while cradling the back of your head. His free hand tucks strands of hair behind your ear when you come down with soft sighs and hiccups. All the while, he talks; you’d never think he’d be talking in the bedroom as much as he does.

“Mm, you’re doing so well, little one.”

“Feeling okay? It’s okay if you can’t speak. Just nod, yes or no.”

“Nuh-uh. Just stay like that. Let me make this good for you.”

When you catch your breath, you see Boba’s already taken off the bottom part of his armor, leaving him just as bare as you. He meets you on the bed, pressing his knees on either side of your legs and resting your head on a plush pillow, bunching your hair to keep it out of your eyes. The simple considerate gesture has you reeling.

It’s still oddly blunt, nonetheless. Only the slimmest layer of sugary pleasantness coats his actions; you still see the hardened, rough, unrelenting man he is. But it’s in an entirely new light now. The roughness is all his way of handling you the way he wants, ensuring you’re satisfied and taken care of with no trace of unhappiness left in your body. In the determination, there is thoughtfulness.

Boba lines up the head of his cock at your entrance, forcing your chin to stop looking at where your bodies will meet and inevitably join and instead into his eyes.

“I’ll make you feel good, little one. I promise.” He seals the guarantee with a sweet kiss, holding your chin to angle your face properly. 

When he pulls away, he pushes barely an inch forward and you gasp, suddenly strung tight by nerves.

He’s incredibly gentle. But he doesn’t go slow.

The thick girth of his cock stretches your pussy out, even more than his fingers, unrushed and carefully, despite how taut he keeps his stomach. As you observe his face, you begin to question if Boba is even breathing.

Despite his caution and gingerly stretch, there’s still a twinge of pain that rushes through you. It’s washed, practically doused and drenched by your own arousal, your own wetness, and the deep, low, perpetual throbbing in your lower stomach.

Boba presses his forehead to yours and you finally hear him let out a deep exhale.

“That’s it,” he praises with a groan when you involuntarily clench, finally processing the new sensations all throughout your body.

Suddenly, you’re whining and hiding your face in his shoulder when he pulls out slightly, the slick link of your bodies causing a slight difficulty to disconnect. As he presses back in, your words are pathetically gracious, pure reverence as you take only a fraction of all Boba has to give you. One day you’ll be able to take it all. This is just the beginning. But this is already so much. So much you might just cry.

It’s still incredibly difficult to process that he not only chose you, but let you choose him.

So you whine out,

“Thank you.”

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[sleepingsun501]

Good Morning, Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!reader

Summary: Boba helps satisfy your needs after you wake up hot and bothered in the middle of the night.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI)

Warnings: Soft!dom Boba, established relationship, female masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, praise, PiV sex (wrap it up), aftercare.

Word Count: 2k

Ao3 link

A/N: MINORS GET OUT OF HERE!! Hello all!! It’s been a while since I’ve churned out a fic, but I got inspired and couldn’t keep it in. It’s my first time writing for Boba, so I hope you all enjoy!! If this isn’t your cup of tea, however, just scroll on.

Good Morning, Princess

In the early hours of the morning, well before the suns rose above the sands, you found yourself squirming beneath the heavy blankets on your luxurious bed and trying to ignore the persistent ache between your legs.

It had hit you unexpectedly, waking you in the dead silence of the night and only grew worse as the hours passed, making you restless and uncomfortable. You had done your best to ignore it, but your body was beginning to overheat with need—the cool desert air wafting in from the Dune Sea doing very little to soothe you.

Boba lay oblivious beside you—one arm tucked behind his head, softly snoring, and looking more peaceful than you had seen him in weeks. The steady rise and fall of his muscular chest in the low light did not help to quell the need stirring in your core, but you would not wake him for this. The stress on the mighty Daimyo’s shoulders had been heavy lately, and although he was still incredibly capable, the sleepless nights of his bounty hunting days were over. You could not imagine how badly he needed to make up for all that lost sleep.

Not wanting to disturb him but unable to bear the urges any longer, you shimmied your way further to the edge of the sprawling bed, pausing briefly when Boba shifted from the absence of your warmth.

Silently, you slipped a hand beneath the seam of your soaked panties and covered your mouth with your other hand to stifle your pleasured gasp, trying to imagine your fingers as Boba’s drawing tight, fast circles on your swollen clit to relieve the pressure building within you.

For several minutes, it seemed to help, but it did not last. You closed your eyes to keep your concentration and tried to pretend the powerful man beside you was the one bringing you to the edge of bliss, but it was no use. Your fingers were too small, too soft to be his.

Feeling frustration take the place of your brief contentment, you whimpered needily into your hand. In your desperation, you drew your legs up and plunged your fingers as deeply as you could into your drenched walls, but you could not reach that sweet spot you craved.

“Mesh’la,” Boba’s deep voice rumbled languidly from across the large bed.

Startled, you squeaked in surprise and yanked your hand from your dripping folds, scrambling to hide yourself beneath the blankets before Boba quickly snatched them from your grasp, leaving you exposed in your skimpy nightgown. The embarrassment of having been caught flooded through you in waves, only fueling your arousal as Boba’s knowing gaze locked onto your own.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you… I just… I-I was…” your words sputtered out of your mouth like the mewlings of a tooka kitten that had found its voice for the first time as you reached for the stolen blankets.

You yelped again as Boba reached over, pulled you to his side of the bed in one quick, fluid motion, and settled over you. He braced his hands on either side of you and was still peering down at you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression, and you felt the flush rising in your cheeks.

“Y-you were sleeping… I’m sorry,” you apologized automatically.

“You know you could have woken me, princess,” he whispered, his eyes softening and tracing the curve of your cheek with the roughened pad of his thumb. “I’m a little disappointed you didn’t.”

“But—” you started, but your excuse died on your tongue when you saw the desire burning in his deep brown eyes. A pang of guilt settled deep in your gut from the look, making your tightening core impossibly uncomfortable. “I just didn’t want to wake you. You looked so tired earlier and I could’ve taken care of myself,” you explained, breaking your eyes away from him in shame.

The thumb brushing your cheek grasped your chin and forced you to look back at him. “You don’t get to cum unless I say so,” he said quietly. His voice may have been soft, but the firm tone was irrefutable. “Unless I’ve suddenly started to talk in my sleep, I don’t recall saying so tonight.”

You shook your head in admission, biting your lip and shifting beneath him. His whole body was like a cage above you, and you wanted nothing more than to be ravaged by him—you wanted to feel his muscles flexing beneath the softness of his tummy crushing you to your shared bed, and the hardness of his cock stretching you open and driving deep within you until you forgot your name.

“Does my princess need to be taken care of?” Boba asked, taking the hand you had been pleasuring yourself with and suckling your fingers into his mouth. He cleaned your fingers thoroughly with his tongue, humming his approval when he tasted you, before hiking your nightgown up above your breasts and taking one into his mouth.

You gasped as your nipple pebbled beneath his tongue, and he spread your knees apart to grind his hips into yours. He was hard as a rock, feeling your intense heat through your soaking panties, and repeated his question impatiently against the shell of your ear. “I’m waiting for an answer, little one.”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Boba. Just need you,” you sighed, pressing your hips up to meet his.

Returning to your breast, he gave your nipple a love bite, making you moan but doing nothing to assuage the ache now threatening to overwhelm your senses. “I think you should apologize first. Only good girls get to cum.”

You pouted at his teasing, but you also knew Boba would drag this out until the twin suns rose high in the sky if he wanted to as he began leaving delicate marks on your chest.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whimpered as he sucked a darker mark onto the tender skin of your opposite breast.

He chuckled darkly at your pathetic attempt. “Come now, my sweet girl, you can do better than that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” you breathed, your hands coming up to grasp his broad shoulders. “I want you, Boba. I want you to make me cum. I need you inside me… need to cum on your cock. Please, I’ll be good and tell you when I need you from now on, I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied with your plea, Boba pushed your dampened panties aside and slid a thick finger into your warmth. You cried out in relief as your body responded to the intrusion, your cunt tightening around the digit and rocking your hips to grind your clit against his palm.

“That wasn’t so difficult, now was it, princess?” he teased, the smirk on his face leaching into his voice. He curled his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot with ease before adding a second.

“Ohh, Maker… Boba, please more. I need… just need more!” you begged as the hot, electric sparks of your arousal fired through your limbs. You grasped his shoulders so tightly that your nails left little half moons dimpled into his bronzed, scarred skin.

“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll give you what you want, but fingers first. Always have to make sure you’re ready to take me,” he practically growled.

You pouted again, but any brattiness behind it melted away with a needy whimper as he eased his underwear down and slipped one of your hands around his length before settling beside you and throwing your leg over his hip. “That’s right, baby girl, you can take it. I know you can.”

You grasped his thick, leaking cock greedily and stroked him as best you could in time with his movements. Just the way he twitched and throbbed in your grasp with a deep groan was already enough to push you to the edge.

Combined with his fingers making the most lewd sounds as they pumped in and out of your soaked cunt, the feeling of his sturdy body shielding you, and the encouragement dripping from his beautiful lips, it was all too much to hold back. You crashed over the edge with a desperate cry into his chest, burying yourself against him for both affection and security as you rode out your first high.

“There it is,” he murmured soothingly into your hair, continuing to stroke you as you clenched around him. “That’s my good girl. That feels better, doesn’t it?”

You could barely hear him as your heart thundered in your ears. The tension and heat in your tightly wired core finally releasing around his long fingers but only bringing you a fraction of the relief you craved.

Before you had stopped spasming, Boba rested you onto your back again as you twitched through the aftershocks and buried himself in your walls with slow, steady strokes. He graciously waited until he felt the stretch of your walls accommodate him comfortably, but all you could do was cling to his dense shoulders again as he began pounding into you, losing himself in your wet heat.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight… always so perfect for me,” he praised, his tone borderline reverential. He ran a hand up your body over the silk of your nightgown that had fallen back into place, marveling at the softness of it over your searing hot skin and silently worshiping you with his touch.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you gasped out his name, feeling your entire body quake beneath him as he drove you into the mattress. Somewhere in the depths of your lust-addled brain, you were glad he had taken you apart with his fingers first. He had gotten you out of your head, and now you could fully surrender to his control, never having felt safer in any other man’s arms.

The length of his thick cock slipping through your slick cunt was addictive and each stroke pushed you both higher into ecstasy, a sensation which you wished would never end. Even through the fervor of his thrusts, Boba cupped the back of your head ever so gently and brought your lips to his in the tenderest of kisses.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his breath hot and sweet against your skin. “I love you, my perfect girl. Love you so much… gonna take care of you… never letting you go.”

“Boba…” you sighed, the devotion in his words melting your heart. You were about to echo the sentiment, but he stole your words from you with another breathless kiss as he reached between you and found your clit again.

You could feel yourself hurtling toward that blissful cliff again, bracing yourself for the plunge you knew he would take with you as he chased his release.

“Boba, I need—need to… please!” you cried, begging for permission.

“Together, baby. Cum with me.”

With a hiss and a shuddering, throaty groan, Boba tensed above you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel the heat deep within your walls as he painted your insides, and it triggered your second orgasm. Your cunt sucked him in deep as your legs trembled and locked in a vice grip around his waist, and Boba could not help but sigh your name sweetly at the sensation.

Though you both savored the peak as long as you could, you shivered at the loss of him as he eventually eased his softening cock from you. He quickly maneuvered you out of your sweaty nightgown and into the cradle of his arms as he reclined back and pulled the soft blankets up over your exposed form.

The faintest tinge of gold and pink was appearing beyond the horizon through the arches of the balcony, but Boba only had eyes for you. He toyed with the ends of your hair as he took you in, smiling down at you gently.

“I think we’re due for a bit of a lie-in today, don’t you think?” he asked.

You giggled and nodded in agreement, already settling into his chest and wanting to drift back to sleep in his strong arms. “Good morning, my love.”

He rested his head against the top of yours, breathing in your scent, and you felt him relax as well. “Good morning, princess.”

________

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[larkoneironaut]

Wrote a spin-off shortfic called 🪻Perfect Desert Flower🪻and am now posting the first chapter on AO3. It’s the spin-off of my Mandalorian romance fic ✨Beyond Beskar✨ which is now completely uploaded, btw! Perfect Desert Flower is very different, tho …. pure smut, I'm hiding 🫣

[sinisterexaggerator]

Dead or Alive

Cad Bane x Fem! Reader

NSFW / 18 + for Blowjobs, titty fucking, ejaculation, public sex acts (semi), and a bit of demeaning behavior / slight humor on Bane's part. Yes, he has two dicks.

Summary: Cad Bane is the most handsome man you have seen in your whole life. He knows that look, and decides to have some fun with you. For you, it's love at first sight. You would let him take you in any way that he saw fit; lucky for you, he's into that (you give Bane sloppy head in an alley behind a bar).

Word count: 3.1k. Short and sweet.

Notes: Haven't written for Bane for a minute. Just wanted to gush over him for a bit. He was so hot in TBB season 2 that I was inspired. This fic takes place from many points of view, but halfway through it settles into the reader's perspective. I may write a part 2 when she/you bump into him again. ;D

A raucous discordance of voices quieted to a dull roar, and then nothing – a nervous cough, the scrape of a chair – so many languages hailing from different star systems pinched off like oxygen from the lungs. Those sentient beings who absorbed the stuff found they held it inside like a scream; they harbored this bated breath, as if releasing it might bring certain doom in the guise of a figure.

A figure who wore a hat, canted downward, its wide brim shielding them from judgement, from the burn of this creature’s gaze, this otherworldly being who was half myth, half legend, half flesh and green blood, bound together by a kind of apathy that bordered cruel.

But the stories were true— time stood still once he walked into the room.

One might swear they could hear the drop of that toothpick, discarded with both absence of mind and disrespect. It bounced once across greel-wood floors strewn with sand, in need of a sweep.

All eyes, including ones that were bulbous and backlit, remained on the blue Duros, a person of sound intelligence left to ponder the notion—the implications—as to the appearance of a diminutive droid from behind his legs, only knee-high. For a hunter of such notoriety to keep a companion that for all intents and purposes seemed harmless was a mystery, almost as big a mystery as the man himself.

“Geric Zodri,” its haughty, high-nosed voice called out, little hands akimbo on his hips, both the new arrivals unaware of the woman who sat at a table just diagonal the door. Her caf cup was held stationary in a position that mimicked art, as if sculpted from marble; she dare not move, wanting nothing more than to observe the sight before her, to commit it to memory, for such a beautiful thing it was.

Skin the color of cerulean seas; eyes as red as human blood that shone like fire; fingers as long and delicate as the legs of spiders. His teeth were as sharp and deadly as his stare, two the length of dagger points, the Duros’ body as thin and gangly as the stem of a candlewick flower sold on market days. 

He was covered from head to foot in leather, tubes jutting from his cheeks like extra limbs, his pants so tight it appeared he had been poured into them. The girl imagined his wide-brimmed hat to be a crown, fixated atop his head and steeping him in shadow, its artificial shade casting its dark pall across honed planes and angles, only making those stark, elliptic eyes more prominent.

Love at first sight—she might believe it, now that she had come face to face with hell incarnate, a fallen angel, a man so handsome tears threatened to fall from her eyes, her previous occupation all but forgotten.

What had she been doing? Datapad sitting idle, screen blackening to the color of pitch.  She hadn’t a clue, forgetting to breathe, forgetting to blink, forgetting her own name as the soft jingle of some unidentified bits of metal clinked against one another with every graceful, slow, deliberate step of this man advancing, strolling beyond her, just to the left.

She felt she might faint; simply pass from this world into the next, to die on the spot as she caught the scent of the gunslinger who smelled like something smokey, something sweet, something not quite like anything else on this stinking planet; it was a wonder she did not spill her beverage straight onto her lap, finally having the sense to place it down upon the table.

Then, another man stood, a human, though nothing about his appearance suggested he was from any place in particular, his eyes wide like an animal ensnared, caught in the path of a hungry predator, though the droid approached him first, his gold-colored photoreceptors angling upward as he tilted his large head.

How did it even stay upright? How did this little bot balance when it was so top heavy, defying the laws of physics? Questions she asked herself as she watched the scene unfold; they were all members of a theatrical audience, her and the other patrons, seated on the edges of seats, cramped in corners to make themselves small, heads bent low with hoods drawn, others smiling wicked smiles of twisted delight.

“Ah, there you are! There is no escape, I am afraid,” the droid said with certainty, joined by an air of pretention that was almost comical. Maybe this woman would have laughed had not all the other people surrounding her been so adamant to keep their silence, a few others daring to inch toward the door in hopes of a subtle escape.

The Duros paused as his target’s eyes shifted, mapping out possible exits, his heartbeat so loud he was positive it could be heard over the eerie quiet that had descended upon this little cantina like an ominous cloud. The gears of his mind were practically visible, turning in the direction of the blaster on his hip, the perp’s arm lifting incrementally in such a fashion as to make everyone aware he planned to draw.

“Naht smart, what yer thinkin’,” the creature’s voice announced, low and husky, words drawled in absolute indifference. So calm and cool, like a tall drink of water served ice cold; he rushed for naught, the girl thinking she would pay all the credits in the galaxy just for him to read aloud to her.

“Whaddeye say ye come quietly, save me a heap a trouble.”

Something akin to fear bristled down her spine, though the threat had not been directed toward her. Worse yet, it wasn’t as simple as that, the tingling of her loins accompanying a heat that spread like wildfire from her groin up to her cheeks.

God, he was perfect in every sense of the word. The tilt of his hip, the drumming of his fingers against his gun belt, the scars that not marred, but complimented his rugged visage. She realized she wanted to kiss him, touch him, worship the very ground he walked on, and she did not even know his name.

“Cad Bane.”

His quarry had spoken, eyes narrowing to match the width of the Duros’, constricted into tapered slits at either end. The girl had only spared him a glance, returning her attention to the rough and tumble nerfpoke whose hand idled over blasters of a kind she had never seen before.

“Supposin’ ye know why Ah’m here, dhen,” the hired gun offered, though his droid perked up, easing himself back into the conversation as if he enjoyed the act of provocation, no better than a sentient who fed on drama.

“For the sizable bounty on your head, of course!”

Cad Bane, the bounty hunter, the girl recited soundlessly. Only known by name, she had never once laid her eyes on him—not that she had desired or ever expected to.

The hunter’s upper lip lifted in a partial sneer, revealing the point of one elongated tooth more clearly. How might it feel for it to press against her flesh? How might it feel to be bitten?

“Dhat’ll do.” The droid needed no other encouragement, backing up to a safer distance as its master stayed put, seeming to know better than to interfere with what was about to occur. The one called Bane never once looked away from his mark, and the girl never once looked away from him, the way in which the Duros carried himself exuding a reptilian-like patience that preceded his species, yet this was something else entirely.

It was a standoff, like those kinds she witnessed in holofilms, but she found herself rooting for the villain—was he the villain? What had this man done to warrant being hunted down like vermin? She would not contemplate the possibilities, too engrossed in the here and now, eyes trailing from boot to brim; she thought she caught a sideways glance in her direction, causing her to dip back in her seat—had he looked at her?

That was the moment a shot rang out, followed by the smell of Tibanna gas and gasps from all around. Another followed suit, within milliseconds, echoing the first. Bane had sidestepped, his reflexes like that of an agile nexu—the human male had tried to take him out and failed.

“Ah’d say better luck next time,” the hunter quipped. The butt of his joke need not be stated, the point of it obvious—he was deader than a starship rivet, hitting the floor like a sack of Corellian potatoes, no one seeming to want to acknowledge this fact as they returned to card games, to gambling, to drinking caf.

But the girl—she would continue to stare, lip nearly chewed to shreds as she bit her tongue to keep from spurting off nonsensical things such as “I love you,” or “please fuck me within an inch of my life.” It was as if he could read her mind, another glance cast with the accompaniment of a smirk.

“Todo.”

The droid was alert and ready to serve, somehow wishing she was he, or it, at his beck and call and then some, never once assuming she could be jealous of a thing that had no soul, made of ones and zeros.

“Get de repulsor,” he commanded. “And ye,” he faced the girl, “come with me.”

---

The coiling of a single digit easily persuaded you, your heartbeat a separate entity set out to betray you; it was felt as a persistent throb below the belt, your cunt clenching as you stood. You were unsure of what the hunter wanted from you, but it did not matter, all thoughts fleeing to be replaced by unconditional obedience.

It would have been unwise to turn him down regardless, apparent from all eyes now set upon you, none wishing to be caught in your shoes. Had he felt disrespected by your ogling? Had he set out to punish you? Would you wind up like the man inside the bar?

You would not see his face again in the span of time it took for him to travel the path laid out before him, unconcerned by your lagging behind, finding you to be no threat. Despite your predicament, you were eager to discover what he had in store, pausing when Cad Bane vanished beyond the mouth of a narrow alley.

Now would be the time to run, to flee for your life, but instead you were stupid, enamored by the way he walked, the way he talked, the clothes upon his back, the color of his pretty scales.

You took a breath, turning the corner. He was waiting for you, thumbs hooked along the waistband of his trousers. Once he was sure you had not abandoned him—and he did allow you your own freewill—he advanced, arriving at a more secluded portion to which he pointed with a downward turn of his index finger.

You bravely stepped forward, aligning yourself with the wall. Bane positioned himself in front of you with a curious tilt of his head, towering above. And while you felt intimidated, you did not outwardly express it, keeping a straight face notwithstanding the trepidation you harbored, meeting that piercing gaze head-on.

Then, he angled his hand, pointing again, this time toward the ground with that same finger, a smug look of callous amusement registered by only a small quirk of his thin lips.

Slowly, thoughtfully, you lowered, drifting to your knees before him as your gaze stayed trained on his gaunt face. He wanted you humbled in supplication; you held no qualms, holding his red eyes with an expectant look for as long as he allowed.

You could get drunk off them, like sanguine-colored wine, your own reflection mirrored back to you; your own desperation; your own indecency, assuming what might come next, yet your expression could only be observed as eager. The Duros’ lithe fingers branched out like twigs as they curled beneath your chin, a hint of a thing most heavenly stretching languidly in an upward curve.

It was a smile, or the beginnings of one, dastardly in effect, Bane all too entertained by your lack of self-respect, perhaps. Yet you obeyed when he pried your lips apart with the pad of a cool thumb, exposing your teeth—nothing like his and dull in comparison—your instinct to wet his scales as your tongue gave a tentative lick, mouth closing around its blue tip.

You sucked, not once breaking eye contact, drowsy with desire as you mimed fellatio, moaning sweet sounds that caused the man to hiss, as if somehow unprepared.

You watched as his free hand unzipped his fly below where his belt fastened, leaving his holsters intact about his tiny waist. It took more than that to partly undress himself, realizing there was a hidden panel made of some extruded, matte material that sealed him off from the outside world; it was like a second skin, only black.

Bane’s bulge pushed against it, as if the thing behind it demanded to be released. Like a snake, it—they—slithered out to your surprise, his thumb abstracted to be replaced by not one, but both his cocks.

Awestruck, your eyes widened; you never would have imagined that what his species packed would be anything quite like this. Coated in a sheer slime that tasted divine, these flexible appendages glided down your throat as if a liquid, bypassing your uvula to delve toward the deepest part of your oropharynx, barely giving you space to breathe.

But you found you could, inhaling through your nostrils as you sat up on your knees, finding his flavor to be enticing, lulling you into a more relaxed state of mind. You were receptive, more than perhaps you ought to be, puckering your lips for better suction, the Duros’ gloved hand finding the back of your head.

He pushed you forward; you did not resist, his slender hips thrusting into you as his reedy fingers coiled into your hair. You aided him, seesawing your neck back and forth, adopting a frictionless speed that caused his grip to tighten, the Duros shamelessly fucking your face like you were a common whore, yet he was not paying you.

His genitalia seemed to be hardening, which was unexpected, making it difficult for you to obtain the oxygen you sorely needed, yet you found to be starved of air was worth it, instead your nostrils filling with a most addicting aroma, none like you had ever smelled before.

Today seemed to be a day full of firsts; your hands found the hunter’s small, yet muscular ass. He did not stop you, though he could if he had the mind, your tongue roiling across and between his members as if imparting a passionate kiss.

What was that? you wondered, your human brain only comprehending it as pheromones, you heart beating faster as you drooled on yourself, spittle leaking down your chin to fall against your breasts. The hunter yanked you backward by your locks, stealing his cocks from you; you panted, gasping, yet you were indignant, tongue searching them out in a pathetic display worthy of embarrassment as you whined in dismay.

“Human girls would choke dhemelves te death,” he commented, tone mocking, allowing the reinsertion of one, while the other slid down the front of your top to fondle a pebbled nipple, slipping beneath the fabric of your brassiere.

He was right; you had not wished to stop, only now noticing how dire the situation had been. As if hypnotized, or seduced by his scent, in that moment you would not have cared if you asphyxiated, so avid was your zeal.

You moaned in earnest, enlivened further by his attention to your tits, however unconventional, moving your hand to grip his interred cock’s sleek base. You gorged on it, one of the Duros hands finding purchase against the wall behind you, propping himself up as you deigned to never be forgotten, feeling privileged to have even gotten this far.

You changed your mind; you went hands free, smashing your breasts together, creating a snug crevice between your cleavage for him to fuck. You continued to slather his first cock in your saliva, deepthroating him to the root of his tentacular shaft, putting your whole body into motion, your tongue ebbing and flowing, cheeks hollowing, coaxing him to bust.

He produced a gruff, throaty sound that nearly caused you to cum untouched. You would have played with yourself right then and there, but his pleasure was the thing you sought, keeping your tits level as he drove his secondary cock between them, droplets having formed at its head; the sticky beads of precum leaked out onto your chest.

“Give a Rodian a run fer dheir creditsss…” he praised, your underwear thoroughly soaked; you relaxed your throat as he face-fucked you harder, though his movements slowed, his strokes deeper, longer, more succinct.

“Get ready,” Bane warned; you felt born ready, squeezing your tits around him at the same time your mouth hugged his every inch. He came, a torrent of ejaculate pumping itself down your gullet and into your belly, the other spreading its seed all across your breasts and neck, spurting as high as your chin.

You were covered, inside and out, verbalizing your ecstasy by way of a happy purr, though you were quickly disappointed when his snake-like dick wriggled right out of you to join its twin, both dripping with remnants of his sperm.

You licked them clean, begging for more, a plaintive whine escaping you as you gazed up with sorrowful, pleading eyes, so sad that it was over.

Bane stuffed himself back inside his suit, his trousers, and awkwardly adjusted, waiting for the moment his dual dicks would retract inside himself, making his pants all the more comfortable to wear.

He pat your cheek; it was a demeaning gesture, yet you ate it up, nuzzling your face into the bowl of his palm for those few seconds, like an eager kitten who craved attention, finding yourself to be devastated when he broke physical contact, your mind swirling with thoughts of him and only him, Bane knowing that look all too well.

“Thanks fer de head.”

The hunter tipped his hat, turned, and moseyed back the way he came, the way from which he had ushered you minutes prior, his droid drifting by with the body of the man Bane had shot laid out on a hover-stretcher, leaving you to pine away for him as he knew you would, walking out of your life just as quickly as he had arrived— oh to be his bounty, dead or alive.

—-

Cad Bane masterlist

[acatalystrising]

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.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

~𝓕𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭 (𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷) & (𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓑𝓸𝓫𝓪 𝓕𝓮𝓽𝓽) 𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 1

[darknessawaits28]

The Chronicles of The Mandalorian and Boba Fett~(love triangle) Chapter 1

Storyline: This is the story of a young warrior (y/n), that fought all across the galaxy, earning a name that brought fear to the ears of many. Life was as good as it can be, until the Empire took that away, giving her the heart of an ice spider. She had no choice but to go into hiding, after all, there was still a bounty to her head. So, she decided to do the simplest job that anyone could possibly do; bounty hunting. Though bounty hunting was a dangerous profession, something that she could obviously handle, but it could sometimes lead to unforsaken enemies and possible lovers. Well, who shall we meet on this journey? 

Warnings: Well, it can be fluffy at times but there are going to be scenes that might offend or be inappropriate to many. With that being said, this story contains; Fluff, Choking, oral sex (F receiving), Fingering, Sex, Doggy style, Blood, Violence, Cursing, masturbating etc. There is also notions of injections and medical stuff. There is a lot more stuff but Enjoy lovies!

(Note: This is not following the exact story of the star wars trilogy, it will have a lot of pieces from Mandalorian, Boba Fett, and maybe include already known characters)

(Second Note: I haven't continued this story in a while, I will have to watch back the films to remember most of the scenes so it will take me some time to continue writing, but stay tuned for updates!)

(On another note: Thank you lovies for all your love and support, hope you enjoy the story) :3

Chapter 1: The Beginning of a long journey

It was a long cold night, sounds of the cackling fire pressed against your inner ear as you sat upon the grassy meadows of Tython. Tears began to overwhelm you as you remembered the tragedy that happened on Coruscant, your parents and masters that trained you, slaughtered before your very eyes by the so called Empire. If your master was here, he would probably say, 'This is not the time to cry and act childish, you are in a world were you have to take care of yourself, not matter the cost.' A bit heartless, but he was right, a warrior like yourself could not just sit here and cry because you lost loved ones. We all loose loved ones eventually. You were a warrior, built to take any blow by any man, woman, or machine. That strength earned you the title of 'The blood seeker', a dark name that everyone knew, especially the Empire. Having two red light sabers can attract a lot of attention (another reason why you were called the blood seeker), but you belonged to no creed, no caste, not anything. You were neither Jedi nor Sith, you were just you, a simple girl using the force to protect the innocent and seek revenge when necessary. 

        As you thought about this, you pulled out a small journal, opening it to see the pictures of your family, friends, masters, it struck a nerve inside you; your sadness turning into burning hatred.

"I will kill them all....if its the last thing I do..." you mumbled under your breathe, standing to your two feet.

Slowly but surely you walked over to a woody tree, tugging at both your light sabers from your leg pouches, unsheathing them with a hum that echoed against your ears.

"They will suffer" you yelled as you chopped the tree, slashing it into pieces as if it were the enemy. "You took everything from me!" A another slash could be heard echoing. "I will kill your children!" A slash again. And again. And again, until there was nothing left to cut. You panted heavily as you stood before the tree that was no more, sheathing your lightsaber back into your pouches, closing it of course so that you wouldn't cut your leg off.

"I can't keep living on this planet alone, I have to find a something to do, maybe a job that can possibly lead me to the people that hurt my family" You thought, pacing back and forth. Yet, it hit you, "Hmm, how about Nevarro or Tatooine?" "They could possibly have jobs for me to do, or I could possibly just sign up at the nearest bounty hunting guild?" 

        With that in mind, you snuffed out the fire, heading towards the coinvent ship that you stole a long time ago from a degenerate man that wanted to fuck you as payment for this hunk of junk. "I guess we can start at Nevarro, hopefully this piece of shit can survive a hyper jump again, it was a while since I used it" you huffed, closing the hatch door before heading to the cock pit. As you strapped yourself in, you turned towards the stuffed bantha that your father gave you when you were just a little foundling, a soft smile appearing across your face. "I love you papa, and mama" you chuckled, turning back towards the controls.

As you began to press the same buttons you used before, the ship began to whir and purr, the engines turning on quicker than usual, "Okay please for the love of yoda, work!" You begged, as you began to lift off the ground, heading up to the sky of Tython. Once you entered the atmosphere, the ship began to shake, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, worried that this might be your last time alive. But, thankfully, the ship survived the entry into space and you got ready to make the jump to Nevarro.

"Lets knock some heads in!" was the last thing that escaped your lips as you jumped to the planet of Nevarro.

[echoedcrosshairs]

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.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Twin Suns

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, breakup / makeup, suggestive themes, canon-typical swearing, mando’a

Word Count: 1.4k

You broke it off, but Boba isn’t finished.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart

Hookah smoke hangs low in the air. The cantina is dim and the noise inside is a dull, persistent roar. Behind the bar, you clean glasses, gaze watching the room for thirsty customers. To the right of the bar is a small stage where a band plays music. It’s loud enough to drown out most of the conversations in the room but not enough to silence them.

It’s a stark difference from your previous work. Being a dancer in Jabba’s Palace brought you protection and money, but it also brought admirers. Most of them kept their distance due to Jabba’s presence, yet there was one you gravitated toward.

One you often snuck away with. One you gave your heart to.

Jabba the Hutt’s favorite contract killer, Boba Fett, ate you up like a Sarlacc. He slipped into your life and you gladly opened for him.

But all of that is gone. You left, and here you are, working away in a Mos Espa cantina, scrounging up enough credits to leave Tatooine behind you. It’s certainly not the life you want for yourself, but the best thing now is to earn enough to start fresh elsewhere.

Setting the glass in its proper spot, you turn, reaching for another. It draws your attention away from the bar, and when you glance up again, the glassware nearly slips from your hand.

A Mandalorian helmet with cracked and peeling green paint stares back. The rest of the armor is much of the same. It’s worn but no less intimidating. Boba Fett stands casually while the people next to him at the bar quickly grab their drinks and makes themselves scarce.

“I’ve been looking for you.” His familiar gravelly voice comes through the voice receiver, and it plunges directly into your heart.

“What makes you think I wanted to be looked for?” you reply, unease slipping into your tone.

You don’t hate Boba—far from it. Deep within your soul, you still care for him. When you’re alone in the dark, you often find yourself thinking of his touch and the way his lips felt against your skin.

But you ran away from everything for a reason. And still, this man came after you.

“You’ve always loved a chase, cyar’ika,” he answers with a gentle tease.

Memories resurface suddenly and without warning. Jabba’s smoky throne room where you’d dance for his guests. The saunter of Boba’s hips when he’d walk into the room and head right for you. The first time Boba touched you far from the eyes of Jabba and his cronies.

Boba chased you until you folded, placing yourself in his arms.

You swallow back a sharp retort, putting on your professional face, changing the subject. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Food?”

Boba’s helmeted head tilts slightly. “I want one thing.”

“I’m not on offer,” you reply immediately.

“Then can I have a few minutes of your time,” he counters. “Alone.”

Kriffing hell.

You glance over your shoulder at the other bartender. She nods subtly and you set down the glass and polishing towel.

“Come with me,” you murmur.

Boba pushes off from the bar and follows you. The two of you slip behind a curtain, entering a kitchen space. The three droid cooks don’t even acknowledge your presence. Stopping at some spiral stairs, you turn back toward Boba. He’s directly behind you, blocking your escape, gloved hands on either side of the railing.

“This way,” you breathe, ascending the stairs as quickly as possible.

You feel him at your back, his body so close you swear you can sense his heat. The stairs spit the two of you out on a little landing. Up here is mostly storage, and it’s a mess. The owner of the cantina insists he’ll clean it up but he’s never here enough to actually care or do anything about it.

As soon are your feet land on flat flooring, you beeline for the large window on the other side of the room. The twin suns are starting to descend, the evening coming quick, but still fending off the cold dark.

Staring out across Mos Espa is easier than looking at Boba directly.

“What do you want to talk about?” you speak to the window. In the glass, you notice Boba’s reflection. He’s moving toward you—a slow saunter.

Even though you cannot see him directly, you know he’s right there next to your left shoulder. Your chest is tight, stomach twisting, and your skin tingles with awareness. Beskar brushes against your arm, and then Boba’s gloved hand slips into your own.

You do not pull away. He is warm, and so close it aches.

“You were mine,” he says, and the possessiveness in his voice draws forth a shiver.

It’s a reminder of all the times the two of you were alone in bed together, with him buried between your legs, tangled up in white sheets while the rest of Tatooine slept. With every roll of his hips, and every languid kiss, he’d call you cyar’ika and whisper mine.

“I was,” you murmur. “Not anymore.”

Boba tugs on your hand. It’s a gentle pull but it forces you to turn into him. Boba is right there, head tilted toward your face as if to kiss you. His other hand comes up and rests against the side of your throat.

“You left without talking to me.” His grip tightens and your free hand reflexively rises, pressing against his beskar chestplate.

You lick your lips. “I needed to go. It wasn’t safe for me.”

Boba draws you close, foreheads nearly touching. “Did you not feel safe with me? Something I did?”

You shake your head. “No.” You glance into the T-shaped visor, only wanting to see those dark eyes again. “Can you remove your helmet?”

Boba drops his hand from your throat. Reaching up, he disengages the seal, and then the helmet is gone. Your eyes track tanned skin and dark eyes. Your hand on his chestplate ascends, fingertips brushing against the stubble on his chin and jaw.

Boba turns his head just as you’re about to run your fingers over his cheeks. You caress his lips instead, and they part slightly in invitation. It’s hard to resist, but you do.

Dropping your hand away, you look down at his chestplate.

“Being with you put a target on my back.”

“No one knew about us,” murmurs Boba. “And I would have handled it.”

You glance up. “Would you? I was under Jabba’s employ. I don’t think he’d appreciate one of his dancers fornicating with his prized bounty hunter.”

Boba grimaces. “You were an employee. Not one of his slaves.”

“That doesn’t matter to Jabba,” you insist. “Remember the guy who slapped my ass? Jabba took his kriffing hand. I don’t even want to think about what Jabba would do to you had he found out about us.”

“And you think you’re safe here?” Boba indicates the cantina with an outstretched hand.

“Bib Fortuna said I was clear. It’s the other bounty hunters I’m worried about. Your competition.”

Boba scoffs. “I’d vaporize them before they even tried to put their hands on you.”

You pull your hand from his and raise them up before you. “You can’t protect me, Boba. And I don’t want to burden you.”

Boba steps into your space, trapping you against the window. “But you still love me.”

“I never said I didn’t,” you reply softly.

With a low groan, Boba grasps the back of your neck and draws you in. His mouth crashes against yours, the two of you meeting again and again until you start to melt, wrapping your arms behind his neck, wanting him even closer.

“Why did you run?” he asks between kisses. You seek another but Boba’s grip on the back of your neck halts all forward movement. “We could have talked about this. You didn’t need to flee.”

“It was easier,” you breathe.

He shakes his head. “You’re leaving this place.”

“Boba,” you breathe.

“Hush,” he coos. “I’m taking you with me.”

“And go where?” you shrug.

“Somewhere safe,” he says softly. “We’ll go on my ship. And I’ll take you far from here.”

“But you can’t tell me where?”

Boba sighs. “I have a place I go to when I want to get away. I’ll take you there.”

“Jabba doesn’t need you?”

“If he needs me, Bib Fortuna will call. That’s how it’s always worked.”

You glance out the window. The suns have lowered, the sky a purplish-red. “When do you want to go?”

Boba draws you back to him, pressing a lovely kiss to your lips. “Right now.”

taglist:

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[drawingdroid]

Boba Fett x Medic Fem Reader Imagine

Smut | 198 words |

Prompts:

107 "You're the one who aroused me, so let's have some fun."

117 "Your wish is my command."

A/N: This imagines are a fun little thing I'm doing with @dookuswifey following this amazing promt list, and decided to share it with you too!

Boba had got himself into trouble again as usual. Fennec had to drag him to her clinic to be patched up after a specially rough fight, and the assassin had left him there, just so done with the Daimyo's bullshit.

"Aren't you glad to see me?" He asked the medic while laying in the clinic's bed.

"I'm, but not injured again," she responded with a worried frown.

He had a nasty injury in the inside of his leg, so he had to be on his undergarments to be treated. As professionally as always, she stitched him, but when she lifted her gaze, she noted he was painfully hard under his boxers.

She opened her eyes wide in surprise, but Boba was not ashamed of his reaction to her touch.

"You're the one who aroused me, so let's have some fun." Boba's grin was devilish when he spoke. She blushed violently but left her tools apart. Slowly, she removed her gloves while Boba was eating her with his eyes.

"Your wish is my command, Daimyo." She purred, finally transitioning from medic to lover. Boba's pupils dilated while the medic joined him in the bed, being careful with his wounds.

[thirsty-boba-fett-posts]

Maybe this is too much with your professional life, but I’d love to hear about how Boba got his bantha… wrangling, rodeo stuff… maybe he’s telling reader who’s an animal lover?

LET’S GOOOOOOOO!

Smut under the cut.

You were under him with your legs around his torso and your fingertips tracing shapes across his back. He’d shed much of his armor, but not the dark cowl necked undergarments. You wore a gossamer sleep shift made of the softest Alderaanian shimmersilk with fine lace details fit for a princess.

“Tell me about breaking banthas to ride.”

In these quiet moments late at night after patrols, you always asked about his life before you. Sometimes you asked about his days as a bounty hunter. Sometimes about his childhood. Tonight your curiosity led you to his time with the Tuskens. Boba, lost in the sound of your heart beating against his cheek, raised himself up enough to palm one of your breasts and take the other into his mouth. You squealed and thumped him on the back with the heel of your hand.

“Ah, brat!”

In a fluid motion with surprising grace and speed, he pinned both of your wrists above your head with one hand and grabbed your jaw with the other.

“You want to know how we saddle broke our banthas, mesh’la?”

You bit your lip and nodded. The hand on your jaw moved down to his belt and he worked the buckle as he spoke.

“We started them carrying light loads as calves, throwing a blanket across their backs as they ate and getting them accustomed to the feel of a bit of weight on their backs.”

He freed himself from his pants and your felt the head of his erection, swollen and ready, teasing you.

“When they had a good curl to their horns, that meant their bones were strong enough to carry a saddle, a man, and all his weapons. But we did not just climb on to their backs. They needed to be properly trained first.”

With the emphasis, he pushed just the tip into you. You gasped and whined.

“Obedience and loyalty, that’s what a Tusken wants from his bantha.”

Boba thrust hard into you then and you buried your face in his neck to stifle your moans.

“We feed them well, protect them, and care for them. In exchange, we expect them to behave themselves under saddle.”

The rasp in his voice became more pronounced as he snapped his hips into you. You moaned into his shoulder and he fisted your hair with his free hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“A good bantha comes when called and stands willingly to be saddled and mounted.”

Boba pulled out of you and flipped you onto your belly, pulling you up by your hips and positioning himself to take your from behind.

“A sure footed bantha with a amiable disposition is worth breeding to keep the lineage strong.”

You keened when he entered you and met his hips enthusiastically. He chuckled as he kneaded your ass cheeks and appreciated the way you looked from this angle. Boba reached down to play with your clit while he thrust into you, and soon he had you coming undone around his cock.

You were practically limp by the time he came inside of you. He remained still afterwards, drawing circles in the small of your back with his thumbs as his cock softened inside of you.

As he laid down beside you and pulled your back into his chest, you felt him muzzle the back your neck.

“Next time, tell me how you broke the rancor to ride.”

[sleepingsun501]

Good Morning, Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!reader

Summary: Boba helps satisfy your needs after you wake up hot and bothered in the middle of the night.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Soft!dom Boba, established relationship, female masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, praise, PiV sex (wrap it up), aftercare.

Word Count: 2k

Ao3 link

A/N: MINORS GET OUT OF HERE!! Hello all!! It’s been a while since I’ve churned out a fic, but I got inspired and couldn’t keep it in. It’s my first time writing for Boba, so I hope you all enjoy!!

Good Morning, Princess

In the early hours of the morning, well before the suns rose above the sands, you found yourself squirming beneath the heavy blankets on your luxurious bed and trying to ignore the persistent ache between your legs.

It had hit you unexpectedly, waking you in the dead silence of the night and only grew worse as the hours passed, making you restless and uncomfortable. You had done your best to ignore it, but your body was beginning to overheat with need—the cool desert air wafting in from the Dune Sea doing very little to soothe you.

Boba lay oblivious beside you—one arm tucked behind his head, softly snoring, and looking more peaceful than you had seen him in weeks. The steady rise and fall of his muscular chest in the low light did not help to quell the need stirring in your core, but you would not wake him for this. The stress on the mighty Daimyo’s shoulders had been heavy lately, and although he was still incredibly capable, the sleepless nights of his bounty hunting days were over. You could not imagine how badly he needed to make up for all that lost sleep.

Not wanting to disturb him but unable to bear the urges any longer, you shimmied your way further to the edge of the sprawling bed, pausing briefly when Boba shifted from the absence of your warmth.

Silently, you slipped a hand beneath the seam of your soaked panties and covered your mouth with your other hand to stifle your pleasured gasp, trying to imagine your fingers as Boba’s drawing tight, fast circles on your swollen clit to relieve the pressure building within you.

For several minutes, it seemed to help, but it did not last. You closed your eyes to keep your concentration and tried to pretend the powerful man beside you was the one bringing you to the edge of bliss, but it was no use. Your fingers were too small, too soft to be his.

Feeling frustration take the place of your brief contentment, you whimpered needily into your hand. In your desperation, you drew your legs up and plunged your fingers as deeply as you could into your drenched walls, but you could not reach that sweet spot you craved.

“Mesh’la,” Boba’s deep voice rumbled languidly from across the large bed.

Startled, you squeaked in surprise and yanked your hand from your dripping folds, scrambling to hide yourself beneath the blankets before Boba quickly snatched them from your grasp, leaving you exposed in your skimpy nightgown. The embarrassment of having been caught flooded through you in waves, only fueling your arousal as Boba’s knowing gaze locked onto your own.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you… I just… I-I was…” your words sputtered out of your mouth like the mewlings of a tooka kitten that had found its voice for the first time as you reached for the stolen blankets.

You yelped again as Boba reached over, pulled you to his side of the bed in one quick, fluid motion, and settled over you. He braced his hands on either side of you and was still peering down at you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression, and you felt the flush rising in your cheeks.

“Y-you were sleeping… I’m sorry,” you apologized automatically.

“You know you could have woken me, princess,” he whispered, his eyes softening and tracing the curve of your cheek with the roughened pad of his thumb. “I’m a little disappointed you didn’t.”

“But—” you started, but your excuse died on your tongue when you saw the desire burning in his deep brown eyes. A pang of guilt settled deep in your gut from the look, making your tightening core impossibly uncomfortable. “I just didn’t want to wake you. You looked so tired earlier and I could’ve taken care of myself,” you explained, breaking your eyes away from him in shame.

The thumb brushing your cheek grasped your chin and forced you to look back at him. “You don’t get to cum unless I say so,” he said quietly. His voice may have been soft, but the firm tone was irrefutable. “Unless I’ve suddenly started to talk in my sleep, I don’t recall saying so tonight.”

You shook your head in admission, biting your lip and shifting beneath him. His whole body was like a cage above you, and you wanted nothing more than to be ravaged by him—you wanted to feel his muscles flexing beneath the softness of his tummy crushing you to your shared bed, and the hardness of his cock stretching you open and driving deep within you until you forgot your name.

“Does my princess need to be taken care of?” Boba asked, taking the hand you had been pleasuring yourself with and suckling your fingers into his mouth. He cleaned your fingers thoroughly with his tongue, humming his approval when he tasted you, before hiking your nightgown up above your breasts and taking one into his mouth.

You gasped as your nipple pebbled beneath his tongue, and he spread your knees apart to grind his hips into yours. He was hard as a rock, feeling your intense heat through your soaking panties, and repeated his question impatiently against the shell of your ear. “I’m waiting for an answer, little one.”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Boba. Just need you,” you sighed, pressing your hips up to meet his.

Returning to your breast, he gave your nipple a love bite, making you moan but doing nothing to assuage the ache now threatening to overwhelm your senses. “I think you should apologize first. Only good girls get to cum.”

You pouted at his teasing, but you also knew Boba would drag this out until the twin suns rose high in the sky if he wanted to as he began leaving delicate marks on your chest.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whimpered as he sucked a darker mark onto the tender skin of your opposite breast.

He chuckled darkly at your pathetic attempt. “Come now, my sweet girl, you can do better than that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” you breathed, your hands coming up to grasp his broad shoulders. “I want you, Boba. I want you to make me cum. I need you inside me… need to cum on your cock. Please, I’ll be good and tell you when I need you from now on, I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied with your plea, Boba pushed your dampened panties aside and slid a thick finger into your warmth. You cried out in relief as your body responded to the intrusion, your cunt tightening around the digit and rocking your hips to grind your clit against his palm.

“That wasn’t so difficult, now was it, princess?” he teased, the smirk on his face leaching into his voice. He curled his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot with ease before adding a second.

“Ohh, Maker… Boba, please more. I need… just need more!” you begged as the hot, electric sparks of your arousal fired through your limbs. You grasped his shoulders so tightly that your nails left little half moons dimpled into his bronzed, scarred skin.

“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll give you what you want, but fingers first. Always have to make sure you’re ready to take me,” he practically growled.

You pouted again, but any brattiness behind it melted away with a needy whimper as he eased his underwear down and slipped one of your hands around his length before settling beside you and throwing your leg over his hip. “That’s right, baby girl, you can take it. I know you can.”

You grasped his thick, leaking cock greedily and stroked him as best you could in time with his movements. Just the way he twitched and throbbed in your grasp with a deep groan was already enough to push you to the edge.

Combined with his fingers making the most lewd sounds as they pumped in and out of your soaked cunt, the feeling of his sturdy body shielding you, and the encouragement dripping from his beautiful lips, it was all too much to hold back. You crashed over the edge with a desperate cry into his chest, burying yourself against him for both affection and security as you rode out your first high.

“There it is,” he murmured soothingly into your hair, continuing to stroke you as you clenched around him. “That’s my good girl. That feels better, doesn’t it?”

You could barely hear him as your heart thundered in your ears. The tension and heat in your tightly wired core finally releasing around his long fingers but only bringing you a fraction of the relief you craved.

Before you had stopped spasming, Boba rested you onto your back again as you twitched through the aftershocks and buried himself in your walls with slow, steady strokes. He graciously waited until he felt the stretch of your walls accommodate him comfortably, but all you could do was cling to his dense shoulders again as he began pounding into you, losing himself in your wet heat.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight… always so perfect for me,” he praised, his tone borderline reverential. He ran a hand up your body over the silk of your nightgown that had fallen back into place, marveling at the softness of it over your searing hot skin and silently worshiping you with his touch.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you gasped out his name, feeling your entire body quake beneath him as he drove you into the mattress. Somewhere in the depths of your lust-addled brain, you were glad he had taken you apart with his fingers first. He had gotten you out of your head, and now you could fully surrender to his control, never having felt safer in any other man’s arms.

The length of his thick cock slipping through your slick cunt was addictive and each stroke pushed you both higher into ecstasy, a sensation which you wished would never end. Even through the fervor of his thrusts, Boba cupped the back of your head ever so gently and brought your lips to his in the tenderest of kisses.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his breath hot and sweet against your skin. “I love you, my perfect girl. Love you so much… gonna take care of you… never letting you go.”

“Boba…” you sighed, the devotion in his words melting your heart. You were about to echo the sentiment, but he stole your words from you with another breathless kiss as he reached between you and found your clit again.

You could feel yourself hurtling toward that blissful cliff again, bracing yourself for the plunge you knew he would take with you as he chased his release.

“Boba, I need—need to… please!” you cried, begging for permission.

“Together, baby. Cum with me.”

With a hiss and a shuddering, throaty groan, Boba tensed above you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel the heat deep within your walls as he painted your insides, and it triggered your second orgasm. Your cunt sucked him in deep as your legs trembled and locked in a vice grip around his waist, and Boba could not help but sigh your name sweetly at the sensation.

Though you both savored the peak as long as you could, you shivered at the loss of him as he eventually eased his softening cock from you. He quickly maneuvered you out of your sweaty nightgown and into the cradle of his arms as he reclined back and pulled the soft blankets up over your exposed form.

The faintest tinge of gold and pink was appearing beyond the horizon through the arches of the balcony, but Boba only had eyes for you. He toyed with the ends of your hair as he took you in, smiling down at you gently.

“I think we’re due for a bit of a lie-in today, don’t you think?” he asked.

You giggled and nodded in agreement, already settling into his chest and wanting to drift back to sleep in his strong arms. “Good morning, my love.”

He rested his head against the top of yours, breathing in your scent, and you felt him relax as well. “Good morning, princess.”

________

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Beauty and the Bounty Hunter

Chapter 5: Hungry and Hot to Trot

(Cad Bane x Fem! Reader/OC)

*This is a second person POV (reader) fic / OC fic. It's both. I forgo physical descriptions as much as possible, though yes, you/she has a name, and a personality.

This chapter: Our dear reader wakes up hungry, but Todo doesn't know what to do! Cad Bane has left you stranded on his ship, and with a lack of any food. But it's for your own good; he's gone to find the man that kidnapped you.

Warnings: 18+ for dirty humor, nudity, mention of female anatomy, death, murder, gunfights, dismemberment, reference to fertile cycles and alien biology aka horny old man Bane headcanon, and one sassy droid.

Word count: 7.6k

Notes: I could have kept writing as I have so much ground to cover, and it has been nearly a year since I've updated. SORRY ABOUT THAT. Life got a bit in the way. I hope you enjoy this chapter, however, and I plan to keep this series going until the end, no matter how long it takes.

BATBH: Masterpost

Ao3

THIS IS A CRACK FIC! Or, as I like to call it: Slapstick Smut.

You are Aurora Ordel and you awoke with a start; you were faced with a face you could not see clearly. You screamed pure, unadulterated murder, then you were promptly gassed; you passed back out again.

“Ah, shit-”

Cad Bane palmed his face. He had acted on impulse; he had released a cloud capable of putting you to sleep; there was a hidden valve residing beneath his wrist gauntlet.

That had not been his intention, though he did not mind that you were quiet, however considering the circumstances he found himself wanting to know if he should have kept those sleemo’s breathing – torture, after all, was not outside his wheelhouse, and intel in this case was priceless.

“Mister Bane, maybe I should be in charge of the prisoner-”

“She ain’t a priss’ner!”

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

“Be out a’couple hours now. Exspectin’ Ah be back b’fore dhen,”

“You are leaving?”

The Duros had paused to lean in close; he could still smell those blasted hooligans all over your damn clothes. A rumble was emitted, the sound tantamount to a displeased grumble; Bane proceeded to rub his rostrum across your neck, chest, and the remnants of your dress.

He had taken to marking you, wanting to replace that putrid stench with his own fragrance without so much as an explanation.

Todo watched on idle, blinking his yellow eyes. All of this was beyond interesting, Bane’s behavioral response absorbed by his many microprocessors.

Cad cleared his throat; he pushed up off you, leaving you to lie there. His brow ridge stitched before he addressed the small metal man off to his left.

“Gonna find dhis Green Hair. Somethin’ don’t add up,” the hunter commented.

“Whatever do you mean? They just seemed like a gang of thugs to me,” Todo followed up.

“She’s too high-profile; jerks like dhat don’t go fer Imps widdout plannin’ on a high payout,” Bane enunciated dryly.

“You mean you think he was coerced to kidnap her, or perhaps even hired?”

Todo looked up as his master checked his gas carts; a quick once over of his gear was common. Even in the middle of a mission, Bane would habitually assess his ammunition, or lack thereof; being put in a tough spot was not something he was fond of.

“Yep,” he affirmed, turning to walk out the door.

“Wait! But Bane, what if-”

“Keep an eye on ‘er!” he interrupted. “Don’t let ‘er out of yer sight,” the Duros finalized, “or it’ll be yer metallic hide.”

Todo groaned; it was a sound usually reserved for humans and other beings. Still, it expressed his feelings, as he was not sure what to do should you wake up.

“This job is among the weirdest yet,” he complained.

Then, he did all he could do; he sat down and stayed watch, ever vigilant.

---

Two standard hours had ticked on by; you heard a few mumbled words as you once more opened up your eyes. This time, you were faced with a droid. You gasped as you scrounged for purchase.

You backed up far enough that you met with the closest wall. Unfortunately, there was nowhere left for you to go. You cursed, wondering what else you had gotten yourself into.

“There is no need to be afraid, we have already met,” Todo articulated, “but just in case: I am Todo 360, techno-service droid, and accomplice to Cad Bane.”

If nothing else, you recognized his voice; your glasses were long-gone. Your vision was blurred at best, though it was difficult to see past his gigantic head.

“Where am I?” you asked, your nails digging diligently into surprisingly soft bedsheets.

“You are aboard the Justifier, and this is where you will remain. Mister Bane has ordered that you stay put until he comes bac-”

You squealed; your voice was shrill. “You mean he’s not here?!”

The frazzled droid zipped a pace away, clearing himself of your immature display. You had begun to shake, or vibrate, trembling of all things.

“Where is he?” you asked desperately.

“He is away,” he replied simply.

“But what if they come back!” you whined, disconcerted.

“Rest assured, you are perfectly secure,” said the twitchy service droid. “There is no safer place for you than on Bane’s ship.”

You looked around, though you could barely make out your surroundings. “Are-are you sure?” you asked more quietly.

Todo chirped, irritated. “Yes, I am sure. Now, just sit still and wait patiently. I am positive Bane will be back any— Excuse me! Where are you going?” he demanded of you as you had risen to your feet.

“I feel faint,” you admitted, not seeming to remember that you hadn’t eaten in nearly three whole days; your stomach had begun to gnaw at you, craving food.

“Then why are you standing?” Todo argued, tugging at the edge of your torn and sullied dress.

“You have something, don’t you?” you inquired weakly as you stumbled across the room.

Todo sighed a human-sounding sigh, releasing his slight grip. He had to think about it. “I do not believe you will be interested in what Bane has to eat,” he explained succinctly.

“I don’t care, anything—” you managed, walking out into the hall. You were faced with a row of doors. You were not sure which to try, so you went by one at a time.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Todo scolded you as you entered what looked like a workshop of some kind; it contained within a mixed assortment of odds and ends. You wondered how he had acquired all of this. If you squinted, you could just make out what looked like clone trooper helmets; among those you thought was a Jedi’s lightsaber.

You opened your mouth to speak; Todo was not having it. “This way, please,” he said, chaperoning you like he might a helpless child.

You weaved to another entry of some sort, this one with locked tight doors. Todo was quick to apprehend you; his weensy body became a barrier. He pushed against your thighs with his tiny hands; they were cold, and the droid was adamant. “No, no! Definitely not in here. This is Bane’s private quarters! He would have both our heads.”

You huffed, exasperated. “Just take me to the kitchen!” Even so, you could not deny you wanted to know what was just on the other side…

“We do not have a kitchen-” Todo corrected you, “-we have a galley, and I am trying!”

“Whatever! Food is food!” you rationalized.

“Yes, so I have heard,” Bane’s droid tittered wryly. “Mister Bane also shares those sentiments, as you will find.”

“Well, good!” you answered in a mood. You would not concern yourself with reading between the lines. Hells, you would take a ration bar; anything was fine!

You continued on your bumbling misadventure; Todo directed you toward an abnormally large lift; you wondered what Bane carried in it. Once inside, you thought that you could smell yourself. Luckily for your inorganic tour guide, he could not tell the difference.

“Oh my God—” you began, hoisting up your arm to take a whiff. Todo shifted, gazing up at you, emotionless.

“What is it now?” he queried.

“I smell awful!” you admitted.

“That must be why Mister Bane rubbed himself all over you,” Todo conjectured.

“He what?!” 

“Truly fascinating, Duros. Although, you ought to know,” the droid complained with attitude.

You gawked at him, not believing you were being sassed by Cad Bane’s companion. Was he angry? Jealous? Protective of his master?

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be!” he explained. “He has been behaving quite differently with you around.”

The door to the lift flew open; Todo hovered out and onward. You had no choice but to follow him.

“How is that my fault?” you dared to ask.

“Well, it is, and it isn’t, you see,” Todo knew there was more to it than that.

You glanced about, finding yourself to be in the bowels of the ship. This was a part of the Justifier you had not seen previously. Not even on the day Cad Bane had dragged you in, keen on being mean, but it had backfired – you were still here.

This area seemed mostly unused, or like a storage space. Every corner was home to an oversized cargo crate. They were quite possibly chock-full of weapons, supplies. Then, on the other hand, there could be ration bars. Your thoughts drifted as did your feet; you were once more cutoff by Cad Bane’s little confidant.

“This way, this way! Do not go snooping. That is one surefire way to get Mister Bane to despise you,” Todo spoke from experience; he often wondered how young Boba Fett was doing.

“It seems like he already despises me,” you mumbled, hungrily marching forward as you finally approached another set of doors; these were double.

“To the contrary,” Todo proffered, causing your eyes to dart in his direction. He ignored the rise in your attention span, passing through into what you had called a “kitchen.”

It was full of pots and pans, plates, bowls, and numerous utensils. Most seemed unused, set to sparkling as Todo was the one who diligently polished them. There were knives, forks, spoons; there was everything but food.

“It’s so clean,” you marveled.

“You may thank me for that,” Todo retorted.

“But what does he even eat?” you whined, traipsing forward, flinging cabinets open and pulling out all the drawers. There was nothing there! Your mind reeled and your stomach growled. That’s when you finally noticed the conservator.

“Meat mostly,” Todo said offhand. “I assumed you knew everything about Mister Bane,” the feisty droid remarked, “though he also consumes what he likes to call ‘roughage.’”

You could only hope that meant salad; you could do with one right now. Or hells, even a steak would be nice, something big and juicy to suffice you. Though, on the other hand, what Todo had said kept nagging. You spouted off a question just as you pulled the door wide open.

“What did you mean ‘to the contrar-’” There was something wrapped in what looked like foil; you made your move, a bold one, to steal the scraps of Bane’s last meal.

“I would not do that!” Todo blurted out.

You pulled the wrapper back; its contents had a face, and worse yet, eyes. The only thing missing was its fur and guts; it was a chunk of flesh, raw, and oozing blood.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed as you promptly dropped it.

“I did try to warn you,” Todo highlighted, as if he needed to.

You nearly puked, your diaphragm contracting. “That’s disgusting!” you announced.

“Maybe to you-” Todo rebuked “-but Mister Bane quite likes it.”

“Well, Mister Bane is a weirdo!” you retaliated.

“You are one to talk!” the droid rejoined.

Your hand had risen to cover your own mouth, but for what you were not sure; it wasn’t as if you had anything in your stomach to throw up. In doing so, you smelled your armpits. That in and of itself reactivated your gag reflex.

You pouted, stomping down your bare foot. The floors were duralloy and provided full resistance. However, you stepped on something squishy. You protested as you almost slipped and fell, your body nearly crumpling.

“Grossssss!” you lamented, having come into contact with whatever that dead thing was.

“I need a shower! Shower. Shower. Shower! Right now!” you demanded, beginning to scamper off without so much as knowing where you were headed. You were in such a rush you collided with a wall; you started crying at the injustice of it all.

“Oh my, oh dear,” Todo said as he came forward, prowling around you as he balanced on his thrusters. “Yes, that might do you some good. Mister Bane always feels better after a long stint in the shower. But it is back upstairs, I am afraid.”

“Take me there,” you pleaded, a hand cupping your bruised shoulder. Todo complied with your request; soon you were back on the lift.

For once, you were silent. You were tired and oh, so hungry. Your body needed energy; you moved more slowly. Todo noticed your decreased speed; he puttered around you in small circles – doing as he was ordered – yet not having the ability to meet your every need. He could only hope Bane would come back soon, as he was not sure what to do for this human woman.

You found yourself once more near Bane’s quarters, being directed to a small refresher. You nearly collapsed just inside the entrance, trying your best to undress yourself.

“Oh, uh—” Todo began, tapping metal against metal as his fingers joined together, obviously somewhat perplexed or even agitated, “—I’ll just be over here,” he stated, leaving.

You had paid the droid no mind, tugging the shreds of your clothes off that remained. You discarded your bra, then the dress as well – straight into the trash bin. Your panties were MIA, but you would burn in hell before you ever wore those things again. Besides, they smelled like others and not just you; you had put two and two together at Todo’s mention.

In theory, it was endearing. It brought you back to Todo’s comment of “to the contrary.” You hummed a little to yourself as you turned the shower on, relaxing against the wall as real liquid started streaming over you.

“Thank fuck,” you mumbled; at least he had the good stuff, sonic vibrations never did quite cut it as per your preference; he must have had a tank of water on reserve.

You let your body slide down, down, until you sat right in it. It was the most luxurious, blissful thing to happen to you in the last three days. You closed your eyes as you tried to regain your peace, but then a thought occurred to you; you had no more clothes to change into. What were you supposed to do?

For the moment, you tried not to let it worry you; the water felt too good. You breathed out a laggard sigh as you finally opened up your eyes.

You stood; your hunger was once more overpowering; you let the water stream down your face and hair, wanting to just stay there, yet the rumbling in your stomach was not a thing to be ignored. Truth be told, you still felt nauseous, finally calling out to Todo whom you thought was just outside the room.

“Excuse me, little droid? Are you there?”

It took him hardly any time to answer you. “I am afraid so,” he said sourly.

You quirked a brow; his tone abruptly changed. He now seemed eager, his programming dictating he was happiest when serving others in some capacity. “How may I be of assistance?”

You attention had been diverted; you were examining some kind of cleaning substance. It was meant to help slough off dry, dead scales; you would not use it for fear of what might happen to you. Your only hope was for some soap. That, or whatever you could find in terms of clothes; as long as they were clean and somewhat fit, you did not care one bit.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to walk around naked if you can’t find something for me to wear,” you called out to him, your voice being carried beyond the sound of running water and the boundary of the door.

Something sparked in Todo’s droid brain, causing gears to whorl and whirl; he knew just the thing! Something he thought might be more your size, as his master was tall and gangly. “Just a moment! Wait right here,” he insisted.

You heard him buzz off down the hall, then there was total silence. You allowed yourself a nice long soak, taking your time beneath the warm spray of the water. You drank from it to quench your thirst by leaving your mouth wide open; you were sure you were dehydrated. Then, you allowed it to saturate your tangled strands; it ran through all your nooks and crannies.

This would have to do until you could get back to your roost; the penthouse you called your home, seated in the lap of luxury right here on Coruscant. Or at least you thought…

As a matter of fact, you had no idea where you were or where you’d been; you were now trapped here on Cad Bane’s starship. Wherever it happened to be, that is. You had no way of knowing your coordinates, and the refresher had no viewports; it was just as well so people couldn’t spy on you.

You waited for what you felt was much too long; you turned the water off. You attained a towel, though it seemed used. You gingerly rubbed your nose in it; it smelled like Duros.

“Ummmph,” you vocalized, happy, horny, distraught, and needy all at the same time. His scent was heady. You felt you couldn’t think straight, having a wicked and troubling idea tickle your jumbled brain.

“Todo?” you tried for the droid once more; he did not answer. You opened the refresher and tiptoed out, buck naked, into the narrow corridor.

You were relieved to get no response, slinking like a tooka toward Bane’s living quarters; Todo had made it very clear to not go in here, but you only knew one thing, the thing that drove you: inside this room behind the door were Cad Bane’s extra clothes.

It did not take much effort; you pried a panel loose. Even without your glasses, this was elementary; you could rewire an automated entry with your eyes closed – too easy.

Once inside, the door again shut tight; you did not pay it any mind, as your eyes went wide, mesmerized by a plethora of mishmash things, and even trinkets. Everywhere you looked was something pretty, shiny, or otherwise unique; Cad Bane had expensive tastes for a rough and tumble mercenary.

There were unmarked credits on the bed, gold coins of unknown origin, an extra hat – which you picked up and put right on your head – and loads of other fascinating stuff.

His blankets were pristine and plush, his pillows fluffy and silky smooth. Off to one side was a box full of random treasures, one you recognized as Durosian if you squinted; you wondered if he collected artifacts from his species’ culture as a hobby, or just because it was worth something.

You blindly plundered through his drawers; there were stolen bounty fobs and palm-sized holoprojectors with secret messages. There was a datapad or two, and a box of toothpicks. You were tempted to snoop more thoroughly, but after what Todo said… You did not want Cad Bane to have your head; you wanted him in bed.

Finally, you found what you came here for -  something belonging to the man that you could wear. You had located what appeared to be a dress shirt with long sleeves; it was white with buttons down the front and hit just above your knees. You at once adorned it, inspecting yourself in a full-length mirror; you wondered if Bane often stood right here when admiring himself; you could not blame him.

You sniffed your prize and nearly melted on the spot. Satisfied, you turned around to exit. The moment your hand touched durasteel a loud noise sent you reeling. You covered up your ears as you had triggered an alarm, a screen descending from the ceiling as a recording of Bane himself played automatically before your bleary eyes.

“Stupid is as stupid does,” the Duros drawled; your breath was heavy as the sirens refused to stop their bleating. You tugged at another access hatch; you began to dislocate and mismatch wires, whining audibly.

“Bane, I’m sorry!”

The recording snickered as if he had heard you through the viewscreen, leaning forward to threaten you with the little piece of wood that perpetually lived between his teeth. “And yer about as stupid as dhey come.”

You found your mouth agape as two more things emerged: loaded blaster rifles, snuggly sequestered on either side of the Duros’ depraved yet smiling face. “Say yer prayers,” he directed.

“Oh, please, oh no. No, no!” you pleaded, bending low to shield yourself. You threw your arms above your head and squatted down till you touched the ground, pulling up a chair to act as a makeshift impediment. Blaster shots rang out, rebounding about the room and all of your surroundings. You screamed as if you were being murdered, because you were, then everything went silent.   

You gasped, feeling yourself up; you were all still in one piece, unbelievably. Standing before the now open door was that pesky, life-saving service-droid; within his hands was some kind of drab colored garment.

“What have you done?!” he wailed. “Mister Bane is going to be absolutely furious!” he proclaimed, golden eyes wide in horror and disbelief.

Todo dropped what he was holding, coming around to push against your back. He shoved with all his might, despite you still being on the floor bent down. You tried to come to terms with what just happened, and all due to a shirt; your eyes watered as you let the little robot escort you out.

“And give me that!” he griped, reclaiming the hat upon your head that now suffered a distinctive scorch mark. “Do you have any idea what this cost?!”

“A-a lot?” you asked with a quaver to your voice.

“Yes!” he retorted.

The droid stopped to pick up what had fallen, scooping it up within his arms. He stayed his fury to look at you, tilting his large cranium. “And what is that you are wearing?”

“A shirt I found,” you whispered.

“No, no, you must take that off this instant. I brought you this,” he explained, holding out something worn, brown, and understated. Despite being still terrified and near to tears, you took it to appease him.

“What is it?” you asked sheepishly.

“It is a robe, a Jedi robe, and part of Bane’s collection; he has worn it in the past when needed, and it is a wonderful disguise!”

You gave a little start, looking the thing over. “How did he get it?”

“Surely you know Bane is a Jedi-killer,” Todo quipped, leering at you. “And a most successful one at that. It is his – was – his specialty. They are all dead now, you see.”

“O-oh,” you conceded, then made a face that displayed your distress. “I’m not wearing this!” you contested suddenly.

“And why not?” he fought back, metal hands akimbo on his hips.

“What if I’m mistaken for a Jedi?” you whimpered. “What if someone else tries to kill me?” You dropped the robe, not caring that your – Bane’s shirt - was open. Todo got an eyeful as you retrieved the one thing you could use, a belt that was rather rope-like; you inspected it as Todo gawked, though he didn’t have a mouth.

He made a throaty sound, having seen the outline of your form, the curves and dips, the shape of your bare hips. “Yes, you will do quite nicely,” he commented offhand.

“Excuse me?” you snapped, beginning to button up. You fastened each closure one by one, traveling all the way up to the very top; the belt came next. You soon had fashioned the bounty hunter’s shirt into a dress.

“Well, it seems you are rather good at that! Nearly getting killed, that is, why if it weren’t for Mister Bane—”

“—No, finish that other thought,” you demanded.

Todo sighed for the second or third time, thinking he should have kept his nonexistence lips shut, but it was too late now; he settled down, then began a rather short but interesting tale.

“Duros have a finite reproductive window, and Mister Bane is getting older by the day,” he explained. You cocked a brow but kept on listening. You tried to give him your full attention, but your stomach growled; you needed food right now.

“Walk and talk,” you said.

Todo followed you as you made your way back toward the lift, this time setting course for the location of the boarding ramp; it was at the Justifier’s rear, but you were all ears.

The only thing you didn’t have was your glasses or a pair of shoes; you would make do and go barefoot; you were too hungry to give a damn.

“Well, Mister Bane has been rather grumpy as of late – grumpier than usual – and especially since coming into contact with you,” he remarked.

“I see,” you interjected, yet quite fond of this engrossing notion.

“Therefore, I have come to the conclusion it is best that he mates with you. Once he gets it out of his system, I believe that—”

You burst out laughing; that had already been your plan. “Don’t worry your big head,” you grinned. “Now, wait here.”

Todo looked around, realizing you had dropped the ramp. He had lost track of your destination, instantaneously switching gears as was his very nature, if you could call it that; he was just a culmination of ones and zeros, but it still felt like he had feelings.

“Where do you think you are going? Bane instructed us to both wait here.”

“To the market,” you answered back, having come to the conclusion you were parked somewhere near CoCo Town at a rundown spaceport.

“Come back! You should not disregard what Mister—”

“What’s he going to do, shoot me?” you jested, feeling a teensy bit more like your old self.

“Yes!” he responded, trailing close behind. “Wait! Oh, you—we’re going to be in so much trouble when he gets back!” the droid complained as he endeavored to keep you company.

“Just come with me,” you offered.

Todo bellyached, indignant. “What do you think it is I am doing? He did tell me to keep an eye on you.”

Then, he glared at you. It was rather cute. “I will make sure to tell him I tried to stop you.”

“Mhm, yes, of course,” you simpered, nonplussed, though finding his last confession had warmed your heart; he did care somewhat after all.

---

Cad Bane had assured that you were safe, but at the cost of backtracking, one of his least favorite things. He once more made his way through the Crimson Corridor, headed for the Tusken Oasis as per the Gotal he had killed. He had parked his ship far from this squalid high-crime district, thinking if you stayed aboard the Justifier nothing could go awry - that’s where he was wrong - he had underestimated the power of your stupidity, for however smart you were.

He passed the Green Glowstone Tavern; Bane knew the Bothan bartender who owned the place, yet he would not stop to chat; he had business to attend to, business regarding you.

Still, he tipped his hat; the Bothan waved right back. It was a silent interchange between two men, both busy.

The hunter continued trudging forward; crowds parted for him. Those who scurried he kept an eye on as he traversed the infamous Barsoom Boulevard.

Prostitutes tried flirting with him; a few scoundrels attempted to sell their wares. It was the ones who watched that warranted his attention; they were not clever; the Duros had dealt with all types and kinds of people, and street thugs were no different. He had an inkling that sneaking would be impossible, as these degenerates would most likely run and tell their boss; there was no use hiding –- Cad Bane was on the prowl.

This area of town was the Raptor Gang’s main hideout; he had heard from word of mouth, steadily stalking onward, eyes forward, as he could sense something sinister afoot -- an ambush.

Bane stalled, stopping dead, slowly but surely turning his hat and head. There was an eerie silence the hunter did not trust, fingers loitering above the holster of one LL-30 BlasTech pistol.

“May as well come out, cahn smell ye’ from a klick,” the gunslinger taunted.

Three bodies emerged from behind trash and refuse, big and burly, weapons drawn and at the ready, as if they thought they had anything on him. Bane grinned a sadistic grin. “Let’s make dhis quick.”

Plasma flew as shots were discharged; Cad Bane dodged it all, rolling to take up residence behind the nearest wall. He returned his own deluge of blaster fire; his aim was true. Ignorance had been their downfall; the Duros would persist in his pursuit.

“Better luck next life,” he jeered to the corpses at his feet; he stepped over them, disrespectfully. But there was one person that he did not want to disrespect if he could help it: Yanth the Hutt, owner of the prestigious nightclub for which his course was set. Though there would be no stopping him, even if that meant killing all of Green Hair’s men. Bane would try not to demolish the whole bar, but if he did? So be it.

The Crimson Corridor was empty now due to the pathetic gunmen he had encountered, its residents scared away back into their homes or other dens, places of debauchery and sin. Places Cad Bane rarely frequented except for occasions such as this; he preferred the quiet confines of his ship.

He could hear the music from a hundred yards; a Bith quartet had taken center stage. Lately, they seemed to be all the rage, but Cad Bane could care less; he approached the entrance.

A bouncer tried to guard the way, but the Duros was infamous and greatly feared; it did not take him much convincing. All the hunter did was glare until he took the hint and scrammed, the green Gamorrean deciding he desired to live and fight another day thanks to such little pay.

Bane regarded him as he up and left; he tipped his hat again. He strolled on through, being met with colored lights and statuettes of varying hues and species, some mythological in the form of beasts; the Hutt spared no expense for his well-kept business. It was quite impressive if Bane could be impressed; the only thing that had that affect on him were credits, and you had a lot of them.

There were dejarik boards and tables for sabacc, gambling men and dancing girls. There were women dressed to the nines alongside scum and villainy; all manner of people came here, including those that Cad Bane now searched out.

Twi’leks, Rodians, and Zeltrons batted their lashes at him, trying to distract him if he didn’t know better. He slipped on by, giving a flirtatious squeeze to varying rumps and waists; while he was tempted, everything had a time and place. He left a gaggle of smitten ladies in his wake.

Then, the heat was on. Green Hair sat amongst a slew of bodyguards. There was no doubt that it was him; he was a human male, lean with a wiry build. But he also sported the most ludicrous hairstyle Bane had ever seen; his green hair was kept upright by an electrostatic field. 

The Duros suppressed a laugh, coming off as composed and stoic though inside he was dying. It looked like he had stuck his finger in a socket, the man assuming he was the epitome of style; word around these parts was he was nicknamed “Fashion Plate.”

“Kids dhese days,” Bane mulled internally.

As he descended upon their table - each step slow and full of purpose - Green Hair’s men decided to act like the brutes they were, boxing the Duros inside their little circle. It there was one thing Bane did not like, it was being cornered; his hand returned to rest upon one blaster’s holster. One H'nemthe in particular got right in his face; Bane kept his cool, but cockily insulted him.

“Ah’d say ye’ must be plumb weak north of yer ears-” he heckled, “-but it don’t look like ye’ got any.”

Cad Bane sneered; he had to be one of the most hideous sleemo’s he had ever seen. A reptilian-humanoid as was his ilk, but still— at least he didn’t have three fingers or ridges on his face. He figured he had never mated; their women were said to kill them once they did –- this one was a virgin.

“Couldn’ get laid so ye’ took up clownin’, did ye’?” Bane insinuated.

That was all it took; the H'nemthe drew his pistol. Cad Bane laid him out; one shot and he would precede his brethren in death, but only by mere minutes, seconds - others were ready to avenge his name - but their green-haired leader finally said his piece.

“Let’s not be hasty, shall we?”

“Tell dhat to yer men, dipshit.”

The punk in charge smiled cordially, pretending to welcome Bane with open arms. Reluctantly, his hired guns made room for him to pass, wary, and with scowls upon their ugly mugs.

“The notorious Cad Bane,” Green Hair began. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut de kark,” the Duros seethed. “Who hired ye’.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

The man motioned with one arm as an introduction. “We are the Raptor Gang. This is our turf,” he said more firmly. “We work for no one but ourselves.”

“Dhen yer de one who ordered Ordel captured,” Bane growled with a curl of his upper lip.

“Oh, her,” the bottom-feeder said dismissively. “She’s just some Imp who works for the Empire. Why do you care?”

The hunter grit his fangs, remembering the state in which he found you. While it could be said Bane had done much worse, it still was not a good enough excuse.

“Dhat’s my business—” he glowered, “—but Ah’m about t’make it yers.”

Green Hair side-eyed one of the henchmen to his right; the tension was so thick it could be cut clean through with a vibroknife. The very air was pregnant with unease and animosity, the Duros’ fathomless red eyes studying his adversary. His intent was mal, Bane past the point of being patient. The human could sense his unwavering hostility, mentally preparing for if and when he would have to flee the scene.

The man who had received his subtle signal placed himself between Bane and Green Hair, as was his duty. Bane snidely smiled, taking this opportunity to bruise him; hiding behind a lackey was cowardly. “Didn’ realize Green Hair was so yello��-bellied,” the hunter mocked him.

Green Hair ignored his comment, not allowing it to get the best of him. “We were holding her for ransom,” he explained. “But no one came to collect—except for you,” he clarified.

Then, to add insult to injury, the scuzzball kept on talking; he must have thought he was safe and sound behind the blanket of some odd ten men at his disposal.

“The way I see it, you owe me for damages, bounty hunter. You got the girl, but not without destroying one of my properties and killing several of my crew-” Smugly, he took a drink to wet his tongue before he continued. “-a million credits, and I’ll let you walk away. I just know you’re good for it,” he speculated.

Bane laughed; it was dry and lustless. He had a word of his own to say, hand ever at the ready to pull his weapon should the need arise.

Green Hair had frowned at his response, or the lack of one, knowing that his horde was all eyes and ears and judging him for this; to misstep or slip-up during an interaction could be grounds for reevaluation of his leadership.

“Draw,” Bane said with strong contempt.

Green Hair sat up straight; if his mop didn’t already stand on end, it most assuredly would have. He knew who held his audience and the reputation of this dodgy Duros; it did not ease his fears as Cad Bane stood transfixed, and very serious.

“It’s only fair; I was told she was valuable,” he quickly stated, trying to keep the panic from wholly overtaking him.

Cad Bane’s austere red eyes narrowed. “Told by whom,” he barked the question.

The man dared to shrug, “heard it through the grape vine,” he said simply, so far remaining calm and collected with all his wits about him, but not for long.

“Draw,” the gunslinger echoed.

Green Hair stood up on his dais, one level above the plane on which Cad Bane watched, attentive. He had the nerve to brandish his pointer-finger, extending it to put the blame to Bane.

“Now, wait a minute! You don’t give orders around here, I’m the one who—” That finger was blown clean-off, the Raptor’s leader staring on in shock. The wound was already cauterized; the intense heat of the plasma shot had staunched the flow of blood.

“Don’ got de patience fer no lily-livered, nuna-hearted, blackguard, disssrespectful sssleazebag,” Bane rasped harshly.

“Get him!!!”  Green Hair screeched shrilly, holding his wounded hand with the one that still had all its digits. Bane was closed back in; multiple blaster bolts flew in his direction. The Duros soared sky-high per the activation of his rocket boots; this in turn caused several to drop down dead; they had gone and done his job for him.

“Too slow,” he hissed.

His taunting caused more blasters to start blazing, Bane zipping and zigzagging as he easily avoided their pathetic excuse for aim. He withdrew his second pistol; this was the end game. Not for him, but for the whole of Green Hair’s men.

Multiple rounds were fired; they were continuous. Bane’s LL-30 BlasTech pistols had been modified to suit his needs; they would never overheat. One man went down, and then another; they were dropping like Bahl flies, straight down onto the ornate carpet.

People screamed; innocents, supposedly, though this place was a rumpus room full of crooks and thieves. They dashed about like nunas with their heads cut off, knocking one another over as they scrambled to get out. Still, they had no need to worry; Bane never missed his target, and currently his sights were set on one particular maggot trying to escape his wrath.

Green Hair ran opposite, toward the back of the establishment. Bane assumed there was a hidden exit, or a tunnel he was privy to. With all his enforcers dead, the gutless sack of bantha dung had high-tailed it -- too bad for him he wasn’t faster than Cad Bane’s lariat.

With the actuation of his wrist gauntlet, he let his whipcord launch. It wound around the slimy bastard's ankles, causing him to trip over his own two feet. Bane landed gracefully; he reeled him in, the nails of Green Hair’s remaining fingers digging into the fancy rug.

It was no use; Cad Bane tugged and hauled him back. His quarry hemmed and hawed as he tried to switch his story.

“I don’t know anything!” Green Hair proclaimed to ears now deaf, hidden beneath Bane’s insulated cap and his overly large hat.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Bane snorted as he used his other arm to shoot a stream of grisly flames; they ignited the perps pants, setting them ablaze.

Green Hair screamed and yelled, twisting and turning, although he was still lassoed. He managed to bat the flames out, panting, swearing, and now met face to face with Bane as he dragged him to square up.

“Who sent ye’ afta’ Ordel,” Bane asked again.

“I don’t know, I don’t—”

Bane prepared for the smell of burning flesh. “Liar, liar, face on—” 

“WAIT!”  the asshole bellowed, deciding to change his tune to one more favorable. He breathed in and out, trying to settle himself down as two red eyes, bright as starlight, radiated hatred; this bastard’s luck had just run out-- Cad Bane was not merciful.

“Some guy, old guy. Talked with a funny accent.”

“Ah wanna name,” Bane sizzed angrily.

“Don’t have one— he said she was an engineer! Told us to watch the news. Said she’s valuable to the Empire and they would pay hefty credits to get her back! She’s a brainiac!” he explained hurriedly.

“Yer right stupid, ain’cha. Ye’ think de Empire ain’t gonna just storm yer lil’ hideout if dhey want ‘er?”

Bane glared deep into his eyes; he would both see and sense his fear. People who were scared often withheld information without the proper motivation, but the bounty hunter found he could be quite persuasive.

“Ye’ suppose dhey take kindly to extortion?”

The Duros retrieved one holstered pistol, planting it against the side of Green Hair’s spiky head. He bared his fangs; he had no qualms with offing him.

“And she’s ah brainiac yer men used an’ abused,” he hissed. “Dhere ain’t no lady who deserves dhat, not even an Imp,’ he spat.

“Now—” Bane’s words took on a darker tone, “—give me’a name, or Ah’ll assume yer de one t’answer fer all. dhose. sins,” he finished.

Green Hair truly didn’t have one, just a pseudo he had given him, and what he could remember of his unremarkable appearance.

“I dunno, man! He reached out to me; his frequency was encrypted. I shoulda known this shit was a trap!”

Bane shook and rattled him, a threat to do him in. “Now he’s gettin’ it.”

“Said I could call him-- call him Willy,” Green Hair imparted. “Maybe, he—”

“Maybe he jus’ couldn’ do it ‘imself and knew ye’ were an idiot,” Bane filled in the blanks, throwing the so-called leader of the Raptor’s back down upon the ground. If you took the time to put two and two together, it all made sense; it was an inside job, the suggestion made by one of your trusted colleagues.

“Please, don’t kill me,” the white-livered Green Hair begged.

Bane glanced down at him as if he forgot that he was there. About that time they had a visitor. One unhappy Hutt came slipping and sliding down the carpet, Yanth, the owner of the Tusken Oasis nightclub.

“Explain this!” he thundered in Galactic Basic.

Bane knew Yanth was a Vigo, one of nine, and part of Black Sun’s leadership. He was wealthy and held in high esteem. He oversaw the organization’s operations in this sector of the galaxy. He reported directly to the Underlord; it paid off to know your stuff, as Cad Bane did not want to piss him off.

“Dhis one ‘ere started it,” Bane began, yanking Green Hair up again to toss directly into the hands of one of his two men.

“Was gonna haul him in,” the Duros said all calm and casual, glancing at the shed that lined his fingertips.

“Reckon he owes ye’ some money,” Bane finalized.

“I know you,” the Hutt informed him. “You’re a bounty hunter.”

“Cad Bane, at yer service,” the gunslinger rejoined.

“Hey, that’s not—” Green Hair interrupted.

One of Yanth the Hutt’s men backhanded him across the face; he was nearly knocked out cold, blood spewing from his lips. He now hung limply in the arms of a four-limbed Besalisk. Bane grinned as Green Hair groaned; he couldn’t help it.

“Then I suppose I should thank you for getting the situation under control before it got out of hand,” the slimy Hutt-lord said.

“Tweren’t nothin’,” Bane said with a tip of his wide hat. “Consider it a gift,” he proffered, pulling out a toothpick from the inside pocket of his jacket. “So’ry ‘bout de bodies,” he added, placing his wooden chew toy in his mouth; the Hutt finally took one long glance around.

“I’ve seen worse,” he commented.

“Ah’m sure ye’ have,” Bane quipped offhand. Then, he produced a copy of his calling card; he offered it to Yanth as a way to keep the peace between them.

“If ye’ ever find yerself needin’ a bounty hunta’, give me a buzz,” Bane stated, twirling on his heel for his coat to swirl; he loved making a grand exit; he was known for his showmanship.

Bane walked, alert. He kept his eyes forward, but he was focused on his rear. His ears were sharp and his senses were perceptive. If Yanth tried to turn on him as he made his way, he would be ready, but the only thing he heard was Green Hair yelling as he was dragged along the floor.

With the Hutt in charge, he was in for his comeuppance; Bane did not pity him.

---

Once outside, Bane was unaware his worries would intensify. His first order of business had been to comm his ship and his little droid, but there had been no answer.

“Todo, how’s de lil’ hellcat doin’. Finished ‘ere,” he started, waiting patiently before he became impatient. He could not think of an excuse to be ignored, unless there was a heap of trouble brewing.

“Todo, where are ye’? Answer de comm,” Bane demanded of his companion.

For a few moments, he stopped to wonder; just who among your ranks had it out to kill you? Truth be told, this job was getting out of hand. He had a mind to leave it all behind.

Then, he remembered your annoyingly attractive face, your buxom tits, and all your assets. He would not admit it to himself, but he had somehow formed a slight attachment; he wanted to see you safe if nothing else, you had paid him to do no less.

“Todo…”  He rang his ship a second time, his droid’s name spoken with mild panic. He should have known better than to leave the two of you alone; his scales prickled as he thought of all the things that could go wrong. He had no idea about your hunger, or the lengths that you would go to get a meal, nor did he realize you had solicited his addled sidekick to go somewhere against his will.

“Ye’ gotta be shittin’ me,” Cad Bane declared, igniting his repulsor boots again. This time his aim was for his speeder, parked some few blocks off. He only hoped when he made it to the Justifier that you weren’t dead, or worse.