#book of boba fett x male reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

allsystemsblue · 2 years ago

Text

POV: pretty much me after reading anything from my favorite tumblr/AO3 writer @sinisterexaggerator

Bane is such a delicious asshole. 🤣🥵 This was fucking hilarious and hoooooot. Uuuuugh. Goreaditnaaaoooow.

Patience is a Virtue

Cad Bane x Male Reader

Screenshot by @renek-bane

[Ao3]

NSFW / 18+

Summary: Revenge is a dish best served cold, by a cold-blooded, cold-hearted killer named Cad Bane. You hire him in hopes of seeking retribution on your crooked partner who is a crook, and you are too, dealing in priceless artifacts. The trail’s gone nearly cold as well, and the hunter’s getting restless; you promised him five-hundred-thousand credits, but you find yourself offering up something else to sate his appetite: yourself.

Word count: 7.7k+ (idk what happened)

Notes: This is only my second time trying to write a male reader. I am nervous about it! I hope I do this justice, and that people enjoy it. There was a need in the fandom I kept hearing about, and I wanted to help out. Feedback/likes/comments/reblogs all appreciated!

Warnings: Prepare for a wild ride. Smut/PWP, mildly dubious but reader is totally into everything Bane is doing. Biting, blood, smoking, cursing, teasing, degradation, mild predator/prey elements, fondling, manhandling, death, murder, stealing, lying, posturing and machismo, bickering, insults, aggressiveness, ass play, edging, penetration/PiA, blowjobs, alien anatomy (Cad Bane only has one dick this time), teeth, growling, hissing, scent marking, all out fucking, and a little, tiny, itty-bitty bit of cute/confused Bane and 000000.1% fluff, but not really.

What in all Sith hells had you gotten yourself into?

This planet’s sun was rising. You stirred the dying embers of a fire that had kept you warm throughout the night. Across the way, two bright eyes were fixated on you, their coloration matching the sparks that withered, wisps of smoke whirling northward in the crisp morning breeze.

The Duros leaned forward, lighting the end of his cigarra on the remnants of burning wood, then sat back against solid stone. You were carefully hidden within the opening of a naturally occurring cave, the space thankfully unoccupied by any of this world’s native fauna.

You busied yourself with packing away your things, the eerie stare of your associate boring holes into your back as he studied you from beneath the wide canopy of his hat. While the intensity of his gaze was unpleasant to most, you had grown bitterly accustomed to it. It had not taken long for you to understand that Cad Bane was vigilant. And while the strength of his glare could possibly penetrate through walls, in this case it set your heart to racing and made your insides take on the consistency of gruel.

In a way, you had grown to despise him in the few days you had known him. He reminded you of every other thug and tough guy out wandering the streets, thinking they were hot shit and that the galaxy revolved around them. His devil may care air reeked of pretention. His very movements, that wickedly unhurried way in which he spoke to you – it was ostentatious and uncalled for.

So was the way you were forced to share a source of transportation, a speeder bike that had seen better days. It left you flustered as you were driven to embrace Bane from behind for fear of falling and meeting your untimely end. The tightness of his clothing should have been illegal; they left nothing much to the imagination, escorting your thoughts to a place you refused to consciously acknowledge.

It couldn’t be helped. This was the way you were made to travel through the backwoods of this hellscape. But you knew the buyer had set up shop here, and this is where he would bring the loot. Despite the dangers lurking around every corner, you felt relatively safe with the Duros at your side, regardless of the way he made your skin crawl when he would not relent in his perusal of your person with his predatory eyesight.

You could feel him looking harder at you then - through you - as if he knew what it was you were thinking about, as if he knew what he could do to you with a simple glance.

Oh, how easy it would be. How little of a fight you would put up against him should he decide to have his way. To be trapped under his scrutiny was a sensory experience.

It wasn’t because you were afraid of him that your body behaved involuntarily in this particular manner, though fear was a healthy response in the presence of someone as infamous as your business partner. You were his payout. He had no reason to double-cross you, or at least you assumed as much.

Though you were loath to be in his company much longer, you had some faith that he was a man with scruples. Why else would his reputation be so highly regarded?

No, your body behaved this way because he boiled your blood. You felt a sudden warmth rise up through you and toward your cheeks, tinging your flesh a darker shade. You swallowed, turning from him to concentrate on what it was you were doing – nothing. You had unwittingly been captured in his snare. You quickly moved to remedy that, continuing to organize your belongings.

Two blue attenuated digits plucked the cigarra from Bane’s wiry mouth, the ash flicked idly off to the side as the bounty hunter stated what was on his mind. “Supposin’ dhat friend o’yers long gone b’now.”

“Not a friend” -you responded curtly; voice clipped- “a traitor.”

The Duros smirked, taking a laggard puff off the end of his smoke. “Same thin’, if y’ask me. Friends all wind-up traitor’s in de end.”

Bane exhaled, releasing what had been temporarily stored in his lungs. “Quick lesson fer ya’ - y’caan’t trusst anyone as far as y’caan throw ‘em.”

“I trust you,” you stated offhand, cinching your knapsack, though it was not entirely true. You weren’t even sure why you had said that, and regretted it immediately.

“Dhat’s yer furst mistake,” Cad Bane’s voice had lowered, a hint of a nefarious smile curling the corner of his upper lip. One fang peeked out, making you hesitate in rolling up your sleeping mat.

“Ya’ trust too easy. See, I wurk fer credits”-the entirety of the cigarra was quickly disposed of, launched some distance away to be extinguished in a clump of dirt– “an’ s’far Ah’ve not been paid.”

The Duros got to his feet, his impressive stature towering over you as you remained transfixed to your spot. You sheepishly gazed up at the acute angles of his face, his expression masked by an almost serendipitous, strategic placement of shadow.

Burning hellfire eyes were all that was left visible, the man striking with inhuman – alien - speed the likes of which you had never seen. You were unceremoniously yanked up by the collar of your tunic, then dragged some few feet inside the entrance of the cave. He pressed your back against jagged limestone, a wicked hiss accompanying the action as he pinned you like an insect with his kneecap, Bane digging his way into the meat of your thigh.

“Trust is pricey now’a’days,” he drawled, the hypnotizing sound of his gravelly voice pacifying any argument you may have had up until this point while at the same time making you irrationally angry. “But dhere’s somethin’ else dhat’s even pricier.”

He paused for effect, the flat of his face inches from your own. You could see the cracks in his soft scales - his scars - some running deeper than others. “Ya’ know what dhat is?”

Believing you were for the most part restrained, Bane entertained himself by forcing you to look at him. His scrawny fingers wound themselves around the point of your chin, pressing hard enough to keep you stationary as he forced you to stare into the abyss of his blood-red eyes. You grit your teeth as you twisted in his grasp, trying to dislodge yourself.

“Paatience. Ssomethin’ Ah’ve run out of."

He released the hold he had over you, his lithe index roving upward to tap absently against the side of your temple as if you were a dunce, or perhaps forgetful. “Maaybe ye’ think of’ah’way ta’keep dhis paartnership of ours am’cable. Nothin’ in dhis life’s free.”

You grimaced. “We will find him,” you started forcefully. “Volrik’s not getting away with my half of the profits. He may have been the brawn, but without my connections or expertise, everything would have gone to shit! I worked too hard to let him reap the reward all by himself. And now” -you reaffirmed the deal you had made with him- “you’ll kill him. Then you’ll get paid. Patience” -you annunciated- “is a virtue.”

Cad Bane leered at your little monologue, the fingers of his free hand drumming steadily against the gun belt fastened about his waist. You knew he thought this was all talk. He wanted his money. You could hardly blame him. You had both been at this a week, waiting for your ex-partner to show himself. Perhaps he was lying low, thinking you’d give up, but this was the only path from the nearest spaceport to one particular village; it was sequestered snuggly in the mountains beyond fifty miles of unpaved road through fog and forest.

Your client resided there, having a clandestine operation of his own. You suspected his being a private collector was a ruse, but it wasn’t your business. You didn’t care as long as you got paid.

Naturally, it was the promise of half-a-million credits that kept Bane at your side, but the Duros was starting to lose faith in what he considered to be empty words. You were after a nearly priceless Jedi artifact, two of a kind in fact, though the man who sought out the Old Republic Corellian Jedcreds had hired you on the pretense of a hefty sum. A sum you were willing to settle for upon sale and delivery for all the trouble they were worth to steal, though a wrench had been thrown into your plans.

“Ye sound awful confident fer’ah guy whose al’ready been sswindled,” Bane argued back, punctuating his point tangibly by pushing his forefinger firmly into your bicep. The sheer audacity made you want to reach out and- “Fool ya’ once, sshame on ya’. Fool ya’ twice, dhen yer just’ah fool.”

You would be hard pressed to convince the Duros, so instead you took what he said to heart and began to rethink your strategy. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by the hunter’s continued closeness. He smelled of old leather and oil, like Tibanna, or maybe metal of an unknown origin, but there was something else-

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you blurted out irrationally, causing a snarl to issue forth from the already irate hunter, directed wholly into the space just beside your ear.

You had concluded on a whim that the only collateral you had left to offer him was yourself. It seemed almost logical when you truly thought about it. It had absolutely nothing to do with the unspoken tension you felt over the last few days, nor the fact you could feel Bane undressing you with his eyes.

“An’ in what way migh’ dhat be?” he asked derisively.

“Like you’re … hungry,” you whispered, pinpricks of excitement mixed with anxiety rushing full force throughout your many nerve endings. “Like you want me,” you muttered with muted confidence.

Bane snorted out a mocking laugh, shading you beneath the brim of his large hat as he disdainfully looked down upon you. You blinked once and he had shifted his position, his lean build so near to your own form you swore he must have felt the heat radiating from off your body.

He presented his fangs to you, your mind wandering lustfully as parts of you began to stir and awaken. Not only in the figurative sense, but in ways you had not anticipated to happen so quickly or easily.

“Big tolk comin’ from’ah fella whose dick’s hard,” Bane chided indolently.

“What I meant was,” you cut in, voice trembling at being called out so brazenly, “is that perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement, seeing as how you are the one obviously interested in me.” You would deny your attraction, not about to be lured in by his clever quips and sound life advice. Cad Bane was nothing more than a worse reprobate than even you - you kept telling yourself that.

In fact, he reminded you of your asshole of a partner. Pompous, arrogant, a know-it-all… You mustered your courage, placing a hand against the chest of the man before you, feeling the texture of Nashtah-hide as you defended yourself from his getting any closer.

“It’s still early. Don’t assume you can take the credit,” you snarked back, trying to play off the growing stiffness of your cock as a shift in hormones. Testosterone in human males was highest after waking up.

The intimidating sentient before you canted his head, his gigantic hat not too far behind. Bane was intrigued at what you were getting at. His vocal chords vibrated in the hollow of his throat, a kind of animalistic growl mixed with a tone denoting displeasure, though it was a rumbling you were positive could not be reproduced except maybe by another of his species.

He sibilated in increasing annoyance. “Ain’ you ssomethin’,” he spat.

Bane reattached himself to you, this time by taking up a tuft of your hair as he held your head steady. You roughly gasped as his crimson-colored eyes bore down into your own. “Got m’self a’ repressed pretty boy, how quaint.”

The enunciation of the last word had been slow and torturous, the tail end of the final consonant stinging in your ears as he had clicked his fangs together.

“Dhat exsplainss why yer sucha tight ass.” The hunter grinned, though the expression was in no way friendly, his tone snide, salacious, and criminally seductive. You hated everything in that moment, because your hard on was now pressing against the inside of your trousers. It was unmistakable to anyone who was not legally blind.

“Lookss like ah’m de lucky one meant’ta make ssure ya’ learn how’ta loosen up,” he grated against your neck, sharp eye teeth brushing sensually across the space between your shoulder and the base of your skull in an upward sweep. It caused your body to reflexively shudder, proving Bane’s point while at the same time evoking in you an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment coupled with unwanted suspense at the very idea of what he could be implicating.

Yes, you had been the first one to bring it up, but never did you quite imagine he would be the one to solicit you when originally you had intended to buy yourself more time, and in this manner no less.

The Duros’ tongue snaked out, tasting the salt off your skin before burying itself briefly in your ear canal. While his touch was cold, his breath was warm, the mix of temperatures causing a fresh eruption of goose pimples to form along your epidermis as you resisted, putting more force behind the push even as the long, dexterous fingers of his other hand stroked the length of your bulge with careful directness in a vicious tease.

Heat pooled in your belly as you stubbornly replied with the opposite of what you knew he wanted to hear. “I’m not repressed, you’re just not my type. I’m offering you myself as a last resort.”

The devil spoke in your ear. You had lost your mind. The words that tumbled from your mouth were not your own. They couldn’t be. Not only did you want him, but you also wanted him to rail you within an inch of death itself.

Your ploy was suddenly to enliven the Duros to such a state of agitation that he would be furious at you, but without a reason to end your measly life. The power and authority he exuded would only be amplified in the throes of his indignation.

Your plan worked; Cad Bane jerked you up by the roots of your hair still wrapped between his fingers, kicking his leg out to cause you to lose your balance so that he might spin and slam you against the wall of the cave. It was not entirely what you had in mind, but so far so good.

The oxygen had been knocked from your lungs, realizing too little too late that this might not be such a wonderful idea after all. Your face ached, though Bane had been kind enough not to bash your brains out on the rocks.

All coherent thought flew out the viewport the moment you felt the hunter’s monstrously large palm cup the entirety of your genitalia. You moaned despite yourself, a pleased snicker full of ridicule being released behind your back.

“Sspeak up,” he said with a sneer. “Couldn’ hear ya’ o’va de ssmell o’yer ‘fuck me’ pher’mones.”

The monumental creature who held you so rigidly in place brought his other arm around to pinch your lips together between his thumb and trigger finger, forcing you to mimic the appearance of someone who was expecting a kiss any moment now, which wasn’t far from the truth. Your hired gun snarled again for good measure. You were so incredibly turned on despite your inability to keep your mouth shut.

“Oh, come off it, Bane,” you shot back between squished lips, managing to break free from the grip of his lengthy digits. They smelled faintly of the chemicals and vegetation that encompassed the main ingredients of his cigarra, as well as the worn leather of his cut off gloves. “I’m not the only one hard here,” you derided him.

It was as if your common sense had been dispelled into the ether without your consent, but you were positive that was not Bane’s LL-30 poking into your hip. The hunter growled once more, like a beast debating on the best way to disembowel you, but in that moment your sanity left in totality as you leaned forward and implanted your mouth around his index finger.

You gave Bane a full sampling of what you were capable of, tongue writhing and twisting as you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. The only thing you lacked was the ability to watch the manifestation of his feelings on the matter.

The hunter’s reaction was both expected and alarming. Bane retracted his finger from your orifice even as you increased the suction of your cheeks, a trail of spittle left to drip down your chin. He refitted his hand to your scalp, twirling you back around quite effectively, in turn giving you your wish of being able to gauge his expression.

Currently, it was one of seeming anger. He rattled another foreign sound directly in your face, your ears picking up on the distinctive clinking of metal and the rustling of clothes.

Bane’s free hand worked easily to unfasten his pants, taking the extra effort to free his genitalia from the confines of his insulated blacks. You gaped at his anatomy before he jerked your head back up. He silently demanded you look into his eyes; they were magnetic and easily drew you in.

“Notha’ lesson yer gonna learn – ya’ finish what ya’ sstart.”

He began to shove you down onto your knees before his cock. The sight of it simultaneously thrilled and frightened you. You stammered out your words before he could coax you to choke it down. “W-wait! Do we have a deal? I get another week and you don’t kill me.”

Cad Bane toyed with you; your neck was forcibly craned back so that you had to stare up at the Duros. He teasingly rubbed the tip of his phallus against your soft, plush, human lips, plonking it down with a debasing slap as he flashed you his sharp teeth. “No pieccce’ah assss iss wurth five-hundred-thousand creds, an’ esspecially naht yers,” he snapped, redirecting his member to push against your presently closed mouth.

So, that’s the game he wanted to play, was it?

To his surprise you opened wide, thrusting your head upward so you could take in the entirety of his ridged shaft down the warm void of your throat. You adjusted yourself more comfortably, stretching yourself out to accommodate for his height. Even though your knees hurt on the hard surface of the ground, you were willing to grin and bear it to get a taste of his Duros dick.

You imbibed it to its end, your face brushing against the tiniest hint of exposed blue flesh peeking out from beneath dark leather and rough fabric. His cock was veiled with an oily slick, sweet as syrup, which made it go down all the more easily as you worked your tongue around the crests of his peculiar shape.

Cad Bane clawed his spidery extremities into your hair more thoroughly, fangs bared to the gums as he vocalized a sound so quietly obscene it prompted you to work slower, harder, and at a more syncopated rhythm.

You were getting into it, groaning at the pleasing taste of his body’s byproduct, while at the same time half disgusted with yourself for being so ready to guzzle this man’s cum at a moment’s notice. You were intrepid; you curled your arm around his buttocks, gently coaxing the hunter’s hips forward as you rocked inward to meet him, then backward again, determined to show him your worth.

You repeated the action. Bane caught on quickly, mimicking your movements at a steady pace as he fucked your face just like you wanted.

You slathered every rib and crook, fondling his strange planes with your tongue, finding that some areas seemed to be more sensitive than others by the way the Duros tensed minutely beneath your touch.

He rumbled low from within the bowels of his chest as you clamped down more succinctly, amplifying the amount of suction you were applying to his cock as you coerced him toward climax, careful not to graze him with your teeth.

He released your hair, the tips of delicate, yet deadly digits tenderly grasping either side of your jaws as they worked their way around the back of your neck, clasping closed at the base of your skull. The jerking of Bane’s hips picked up in speed as he cradled your head, the disgruntled gunslinger having actually bothered to shut one eye as he basked in the sensation of the wet heat of your mouth gorging itself on his girth.

You almost hated to follow through with your idea, observing the hunter’s body language and bearing witness to the primal utterances that reverberated off his vocal chords during the intensity of the moment, but you had a point to make.

You fiendishly brought him to the brink, Bane’s cock pulsing in your mouth as his breathing picked up its fervor despite the apparatus that resided across his back. Just as you thought he might erupt you released his phallus with a resounding pop that echoed throughout the silence of the cavern.

For one instant the bony ridge over his eyes knitted, a look of honest confusion and disappointment overtaking his normally dour face before it morphed into a scowl, the Duros regaining his equilibrium and canting his head downward, the rim of his wide hat casting a black cloud over your parade.

You bravely challenged him despite this. “Still think I’m not worth it? Consider this a deposit; you’ll get your money when I get mine!”

Perhaps it was the teasing smirk playing at your lips, or the overblown attitude you projected, your tone of voice, or the twinkle in your eye. Whatever it was, Bane did not appreciate it, though now it was well within the realm of possibility to be exhaustively plowed into an early grave.

Oh, the unbridled joy that kind of death would give you. It emboldened you as you locked eyes with his, this… reptilian entity before you who posed as a man hissing menacingly at the abrupt removal of your mouth from around his cock. He scooped you up by the lapel of your shirt, dragging you to his height. Your feet nearly dangled off the ground, sheer terror conjoined with sexual arousal causing your brain to short-circuit for a temporary length of time.

“You’ve gotta deal, ya’ lil’ shit,” Bane seethed bitingly, catching you off guard and driving your heart to flutter. You had no time to even contemplate the repercussions of his acceptance before he was physically hauling you outside the cave.

“But I’ll b’de one makin’ de deposit,” he taunted nastily, effortlessly staking his claim over you as his personal plaything. There was a small chance you would regret this, but the absolute freak in you could not wait for what was about to happen, your boots leaving a trail in the dirt as he easily maneuvered you toward the bike you’d both rode in on.

He tossed you over the side of the speeder like a ragdoll on your belly. The wind was knocked out of you as you tried to right yourself, but Bane had you exactly where he wanted you, the hunter sidling up to you with his bare cock now flush against your ass cheek. He had not bothered to tuck himself back in.

His sinewy arm reached around you, Bane seamlessly unfastening the buckle of your belt. He ground his hips into you, fumbling with the closure of your trousers for less than a split second before he was already shoving them down from around your waist.

You gasped, the Duros’ broad palm groping your soft rump. He rattled a provocative sizz as his cuspids skimmed the back of your neck, one steel-toed boot coming to rest between your feet. He kicked either side of your shoes to make your legs involuntarily spread wider and for you to lose your balance, your body tumbling ass up as you fell forward once more over the seat of the speeder.

Your own erection was pressing against the saddle, Bane forcing a grunt out of you as he gnashed his teeth, elongated Durosian digits, both elegant and rough, gathering and then caressing the length of your dick from around and behind so fluidly that the sensation alone nearly made you cum.

His touch was featherlight and delicate like gossamer, the deep-seated grumbling he was producing not helping matters. It was all meant to allay you, the final straw being the pinch of his disconcerting canines as he took up residence just below your carotid artery, placating you into a latent state of willful obedience.

“Try naht t’ssquirm too much,” he muttered, licking a stripe from where he had drawn your blood to the surface of your skin all the way to the edge of your earlobe; a tremor oscillated through your core. “Instinct might kick in,” he warned.

You tried to speak, but you were swimming in a bevy of complicated thoughts and your own lewd desires, though any fight left in you had been nullified. It was as if you had been caught in the jaws of an apex predator, and that was precisely accurate if you took the time to analyze your dilemma at face value.

Fortunately for you, you had convinced him you were temporarily a decent substitute for one of the few things that mattered to him in this life: credits, though unsure if by some chance he would spontaneously change his mind. It boosted you to shamelessly balance yourself precariously on the tips of your toes as you moaned in subdued notes to inform the Duros you were ready, willing, and more than receptive to his not so subtle advances.

Still, you could not help yourself, snapping back with an increasingly haughty temperament that was just asking for trouble. “Get on with it,” you baited him, your voice laced with a façade of nearly bored contempt.

The hunter pulled his hand back and slapped your ass. Hard. You were sure you would feel it in the morning, and if you could look to check, you were positive there would be a large red welt left in its wake.

“Sshut up an’ drop de act,” Bane scolded. “Don’ try’ta pull dhat backrocket shit wit’ me. Ah’ll ghet t’ya when ah’m good ‘n ready,” he informed you brusquely, the Duros taking his time in removing each of his gloves in turn with his teeth to be spit off to the side somewhere, out of eye view.

Once accomplished, he moved to fondling his genitals as he coated his right hand in his own lubrication. Somewhat unbeknownst to you, Bane had saturated himself for the express purpose of testing you.

You made a sound of mild protest, although you no idea what to say to his accusations. Was it that easy to tell you had simply been driven mad by your own bawdy ambitions? You inhaled briskly as you felt something cold and slippery push past the crack of your ass to probe your anal opening, followed by the slow, almost methodical entrance of what you assumed was a long, smooth, and tenacious finger.

If nothing else, this would be the thing to silence you.

This was not Cad Bane’s first rodeo. Even that single digit felt snug as it penetrated you to half its length. It went in without incident. It was a strange feeling at first, you having long ago noted the Duros did not have fingernails, although the tips were somewhat callous; in this instance friction was not unwelcome.

The coldness of his microscales set your guts to squirming, the cool wetness sparking a sensation within you that felt like errant bolts of electricity as he traveled languorously through your rectum to reach the gland that existed there. You felt a pressure that was not unpleasant but that made you press back against him, Bane snorting at the ease with which he already practically had you begging for him.

“Where's yer paatience now?" he mused, though content by this turn of events as it meant less work for a higher payout. “No matta’ how eager ya’are fer it, de sun won’ rise any fasta.'"

Bane lazily grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves within you, curling his finger at just the right angle to make your cock fatten and thresh before he revoked it entirely from your body only to make space for two. He was being self-indulgent, you spreading your legs wider intuitively as the Duros shifted his unnaturally lank appendages within you, back and forth in a sawing motion as you buried your face in the curve of your elbow.

“Ya’ sstink ‘a desss’per’ation,” Bane nearly purred, the scent of your pheromones starting to have an effect on the hunter that made him feel almost complacent while at the same time murderous. He kept that part of himself in check, however neutralizing eons of Durosian evolutionary tactics sometimes proved to be a challenge. A warm-blooded mammal such as yourself was a thing often considered to be food, and especially ones who could not protect themselves, or those who wriggled as if they were prey caught in a trap.

“If’ah didn’ know any betta,’ ah’d say dhis was yer plan all along, kid...” Your breath caught in your throat as you tightened your abdominal muscles reflexively, Bane expanding those slender digits inside you as he stretched you open. His free hand reached around the other side of you to gingerly cup your balls, the cushy coolness of his skin leaving you unprepared as he caressed your sac in a gentle massage with all five massive fingers.

“F-fuck,” you stammered out, precum leaking out of your dick’s slit. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined someone as eerily sinister as this bounty hunter could absolutely blow your mind at the same time as causing you to want to blow your load. "That's banthashit. I could care less," you lied.

“Wait fer it,” he whispered silkily in your ear, jeering you for your obvious neediness, releasing your testicles to draw himself away. “Yessss,” he rasped snidely, the two fingers inside you pumping more steadily until he left you empty and desirous as you pathetically whimpered for more. “Dhat's why yer bent over fer me all nice like."

“Fucking tease,” you managed, spitting the words off your tongue contemptuously as the weight of the Duros shifted off your back as he pushed himself up, leaving you inclined across the speeder. Then, you smelled something - the distinctive scent of smoke.

You sat up and whorled around, facing the Duros head on as he had the nerve to light up another cigarra with you bare-assed in the middle of the woods. He took a leisurely drag as you glared heatedly with your pants halfway down your legs, Bane exhaling a thick plume as he grinned at you, fangs displayed in a show of almost cheerful satisfaction. “Pay baack’s a bitch, ain’ it?

His own cock still stood at attention, engorged and bluish green; the fact he was in absolutely no rush at all when you so urgently wanted to be pounded into the ground was infuriating. It was your turn to be unappreciative, your surliness unable to be suppressed as you decided to insult the man for lack of better judgement.

“You’re a bastard,” you mumbled, not expecting anything in the way of retaliation, though Bane surprised you by switching gears without so much as a hat tip in warning.

The hand not holding his smoke extended in the single blink of an eye, nearly engulfing your throat as it pinched closed around you. Even though you were scared shitless, Bane had not troubled himself with applying any pressure. You thanked the stars even as you trembled, floundering to rein in your flight response.

Bane emitted an ugly sound, bordering the cusp of a hiss mixed with a savage growl that set your teeth on edge while concurrently making every part of you tingle. He entrapped you again between the bike and himself, this time facing you as he leered vehemently into your eyes.

“I bet ye’ think de sun comes up jus’ ta’ hear ya’ crow.” You were entranced by his bold stare, his red depths molten and mesmerizing, stealing you away to another place entirely so that you nearly forgot where you were, or what was happening. “Maaybe yer d'one who needs de waake up call.”

Instantly you were brought back to the present, Bane shoving you backward as he impressed himself into your hips. Again, something cold and moist intruded upon you, Bane aligning himself at your back entrance as he worked his way into your warm innards.

If you thought his fingers had made you feel full, it was nothing compared to his alien anatomy, the Duros essentially ribbed for your pleasure. You could perceive every unique facet of his length as it moved through you, deeper than he had bothered to penetrate before.

You choked out a sound that transformed into a groan of near-to rapture or relief; it was as if you had long been deprived of something that your life depended on, and were only now finally receiving it. You equally felt pain, your walls spanning to accommodate his foreign presence, but despite everything you were thrilled with this sudden escalation of events.

You belted out a full-fledged moan as he inched his way to the rear of your nether regions. You panted through a mix of depraved satisfaction and a sense of overwhelming satiety. His tool was sizeable, stuffing you to the brim. “If only ye’ stole priceless Jedi artifactss as well as ya’ taake dick,” he japed, needlessly needling you for fun.

The Duros lifted you up by both corners of your tunic after he settled his cigarra between his lips without so much as an afterthought, dragging you up with his cock still adjoined within. He set you down on the edge of his bike’s saddle, dredging his large fingers into the fabric of your garments. Much to your glee, the hunter used it as leverage, Bane leaning forward to rut into you as spirals of dark smoke jutted heavenward, the cigarra’s fumes filling your nostrils with its pungent odor.

Though Bane’s wiry physique might trick some into thinking he was weak, there was power behind his thrusts, the hunter laying his cock into you aggressively; his movements were almost artful, yet intense. The oily slick coating his member was a godsend, soon any discomfort you felt being chased away as pleasure took over, both your arms spreading out to either side of you on the speeder.

One hand grasped a handle, while the other gripped tightly to the seat. You steadied yourself against his barrage of long, slow strokes, the Duros releasing his hold on your clothes, seeing as how you were doing most of the work for him by now; all he had to do was grind his hips.

He did just that, watching the gesticulations of your face as he picked the cigarra from his between his teeth, one arm extending outward for a hand to cradle the back of your head as he pulled you forward.

You suddenly wanted to kiss him; it seemed that he intended to kiss you. You went for it, placing your outspread palms on either cheek below his breathing tubes as you positioned your mouth adjacent his.

Bane accepted, opening his fang-filled maw wide enough to let your tongue slide in, though what happened next took you by surprise. He exhaled the build up of smoke that had gathered in his lungs directly into you, shot gunning the remnants between your parted lips.

You inhaled on instinct, tasting the flavor of his vice. It was dark and earthy, spiked with a smitch of what you thought was Spice. You coughed inadvertently, expelling it back out. Bane smirked toothily as he flicked the butt off into the dirt.

“Didn' exspect' ye' t'be sso green,” he said offhand, though his words lacked animosity.

The Duros’ own hands moved to cup your face unexpectantly; he pressed his forehead against yours without warning. He purred, rubbing his rostrum all over your head, hair, and skin in an attempt to mark you with his scent.

Just like that he recoiled, eyes alit with malice, as if he himself had been caught unaware of his own actions. The purr contorted into a throaty grumbling, Bane deciding to turn your head sharply, giving him access to your throat while at the same time making it so he did not have to look directly at you.

He pressed the slits beneath his eyes just below your ear, drinking deeply of your personal fragrance before he licked you across the entirety of your neck.

Bane’s warm breath caused another round of horripilation, the hair on your body standing at attention as you shivered all over. His tongue worked its way into your ear once more, his teeth biting down on your fleshy lobe.

He stayed there, groaning inoffensively, all the while pumping his cock into you as you allowed this odd treatment of your person. You had to admit that even though you had expected the hunter to sodomize you without remorse, and you keen for it, he was being rather courteous in the way he fucked you.

“Feeling affectionate, are we?” you breathed out against his duster, the Duros’ mood taking a turn in a less pleasing direction as he snarled outright, retracting from you entirely. You thought you should have removed the impudence from you tone; it was just too fun to poke and prod at him.

He pulled his member out of you, leaving you barren and distraught; you highly regretted taking a dig at him quite suddenly. You reached out a hand, Bane skirting you as he grabbed you by the scruff of your collar once again. He flipped you over as he had done before, this time sinking his knurled dick in you without an introduction or reprieve from start to finish.

Bane levied himself on either side of you, a blunt force pressed flat against your ass as he pushed up into you, touching that erogenous place far within as you bit down harshly on your lip. You were vocalizing loudly now, an insurmountable deluge of pleasure flooding your sensory receptors as he continued to jounce into you with increased momentum.

You could not help yourself. You attended to your own cock, your fist tightening around your shaft as you received stimulation from both ends. Your legs quivered as you tried to stay your balance, the bike beneath you now welcomed as you gave in, hips rising for an even deeper reach.

“Yer gonna choke one day on all dhat shit ya’ tolk,” Bane berated, his body oriented level with yours as he mercilessly hit your sweet spot. You gasped with every breath, a sensation building up upon itself as you ground your teeth, still daring to run your mouth even now, so close to orgasm.

“Then I’ll see you in hell,” you demurred halfheartedly, speaking through another moan of ecstasy.

The hunter did not reply, but hissed something along the lines of disapproval, so overcome in the moment with the anticipation of his own release that he was beyond bothering to respond to you. He locked onto your hips, spindly fingers alternating between the actions of compression and distension, Bane kneading your malleable flesh like dough as a lecherous rasp clawed its way to the surface and washed over you.

It was the last thing you were fully cognizant of, your mind bathed in a volley of white-hot sparks as pinpricks of stars formed in the corners of your eyes. You breached the limits of your mental willpower, holding off for as long as you could, your own fingers still caressing the length of your cock as Bane remained sheathed tightly inside you. The combined friction and varying attributes of his unique tool sent you over the edge, your cum beginning to spurt out across the bike seat.

Bane continued the relentless pursuit of his own pleasure as you peaked, your ears perking at a sound in the distance, though your thoughts were muddled and misty as you tried to make it out.

Gasping for air and still riding out your orgasm, pants having fallen to your ankles, Volrik finally decides to make his appearance, a knapsack secured across his back. The sound you had heard was the approach of his speed-bike, traveling at high velocity down the singular trail through these woods - the trail that was only two dozen steps away from where your campsite resided, and where you were currently being fucked by a notorious Durosian bounty hunter in the now full light of day - your former partner having seen your scandalous tryst from atop his mount.

Volrik slowed but did not stop, his eyes wide and mouth hanging partially open in his overt astonishment. He was not entirely looking where he was going; you bellowed out to Bane to redirect his attention, no matter that he himself was balls deep in your guts.

In that moment, Bane had taken to unleashing his own seed; it was frigid and thick, filling you right where you stood: still bent over the bike, and now yelling as the other man began to exhibit a stupid grin, then downright laughing as he sped past you. “That’s him!”

The man was hooting and hollering as he got further and further away, and you growing angrier by the second, though Bane kept undulating his hips. He reached down where his holster lay slack against his leg, the Duros drawing out one LL-30 BlasTech pistol. Even as you squawked like an incensed nuna, Bane shot him dead from some distance away, rutting out the last drops of his load into your now sore ass.

He shucked you off himself, your insides left vacant as his spillage seeped out of you and dribbled down your legs. Bane turned and walked away, so quick to recalibrate and recoup, making his way toward his own meager pile of belongings. You assumed he had the intention of cleaning himself up.

He tossed you a rag which you took gratefully, doing your best to rid yourself of the aftermath. You hurriedly dashed off down the path and toward where he’d felled that asshole as soon as you had buckled up your pants.

You glared at Volrik as he stared blankly up into your eyes, his soul having already left his body; he was nothing but a lifeless corpse, Bane approaching with the gait of a silent killer. You had not even noticed he was there except by the faint smell of his cigarra, the residue sticking to the fibers of his clothes - he was right behind you.

You jumped despite yourself, though taking it in stride as you squatted upon the ground to avoid drawing more attention to your show of nerves.

You searched the contents of Volrik’s belongings; it did not take you long to find the secret compartment hidden in his satchel that housed the two Jedi Medallions you had been after. They were awarded to a Jedi when they graduated from Knight to Master, and they were particular to the Old Republic era, wrapped carefully and protected in a separate pouch.

You removed the artifacts, tilting them to see in the rays of the sun that filtered in through the trees, Bane leaning against a nearby trunk as he crossed his ankles, a small hint of a smirk lining his nearly lipless mouth. You grinned at him, putting them diligently back into safekeeping, then claiming your victory offhand. “Looks like I come out on top,” you bragged flagrantly.

“Fweh,” Bane tsked, clacking his tongue against his fangs, using this opportunity to insult you. “Ne’vah in yer life.” He snickered, arms settling in more tightly about his waist as he got comfortable, that large hat of his drawn down over his searing eyes.

You began strolling back towards camp, unable to rid yourself of your proud smile, even though Bane had done the dirty work. You realized there was a joke there. “Oh? Perhaps once we get paid I can buy you a drink. Maybe then you’d be the one to loosen up,” you enticed him, your expression taking on a somewhat devious, yet flirtatious appearance, though you knew this would only get under his scales.

Cad Bane knew what you were hinting at; he growled somewhere behind you. In reality, you found it to be a pleasing sound. “Piss off,” he griped, brushing past your shoulder in order to be the first one to arrive back to camp. “Jus’ ghet me d’creds ya’ owe me b’fore I decide t’end ya’ afta’ all.”

It was a wonder he hadn’t offed you yet. You thought he must quite like you, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part. Your grin only widened as you replied. “Patience, Bane.”

You were lucky that he only shot you with a look and not his blaster, though if looks could kill, you’d sure enough be dead.

---

Masterlist

Cad Bane Masterlist

#cad bane #cad bane x reader #cad bane x male reader #duros #star wars #star wars smut #fanfiction #clone wars #bad batch #book of boba fett

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daimyosprincess · 1 year ago

Text

PART IV: ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

—PARING: Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

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

—SUMMARY: Your new relationship with the Mandalorian studies professor begins to take shape.

—WORD COUNT: 11.2k

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, professor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is mid-twenties and Boba is late forties), alcohol consumption by reader and others, reader described as having enough hair to grab, Dom/sub power dynamics (Dom!Boba and sub!reader), BDSM elements, oral sex (male and fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), creampie, lots of pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, light degradation (discussed before, use of "slut" and "whore"), choking, hair pulling, one dude being a creep but nothing bad happens

As always, let me know if I missed anything that needs to be tagged! Mando'a translations at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Y’all I’m not going to lie to you, this got filthy FAST and idk how this ended up at 11k but I’m not sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And, yes, I am naming these chapters after different parts of a book because I think I’m clever. We've got some new chapter warnings this go around as well, so be sure to mind those!

A big thank you to @rexxdjarin and @agirlnamejacq for betaing, and thank you my beautiful readers for your all support and feedback 💖

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

Rain plinks steadily against the thick, wavy glass of the library’s windows, its hypnotic rhythm lulling you into a trance as you watch the gray sky curl and coil outside from your post at the circulation desk. In your relaxed daze, your mind slips back to your date with Boba and the morning after. You think about how you got to fall asleep in his arms, tucked into his chest that was so warm and safe you only needed the sheet on top of you, and how even in his sleep he kept a protective arm slung over your body.

The way he woke you up with kisses on your neck, whispering how happy he was to wake up with you in his bed as his tongue laved over the bite-shaped bruise he left there the night before, and how it felt when you let him kiss down your body until he was once again laying between your thighs. How his hooded brown eyes searched for permission to continue like you would ever deny him any part of you.

“Can I taste you, princess? Can I have that pretty pussy for breakfast?”

“Please, it’s all yours.”

He was in no rush to take you apart, groaning into your wet heat and sucking more bruises into the tender skin of your thighs in between licking and fucking you with his tongue until you finally begged him to push you over the edge. After he let you soak his face, he stole you away to the shower, promising you his fingers and his cock. Afterwards you had returned the favor in the steamy, warm water, not content until he spilled every last drop of his release down your throat, cursing with his fist in your hair that you were going to suck the life out of him.

“No,” you smiled deviouly, licking the last dribble of cum off his cock, “just your soul, old man.”

Flashing you a shark-like grin through the haze of his release, he reached behind you and turned the water to cold before jumping out of the shower. You might not have forgiven him as quickly as you did if he hadn’t made you the best omelet you’d ever had for breakfast.

Since neither of you had been willing to part, you spent the day sprawled across him watching reruns on TV and talking about your lives: what books you liked, your dream vacations, what the best pasta sauce is, first crushes, anything really. The conversation flowed with such ease you might have talked the whole day away if you hadn’t gotten distracted with exploring each other’s bodies. It wasn’t all sex—though there was plenty of that too—it was soft touches mapping out curves and lines to memory, lips tracing over scars and dimples, warm hands on sore muscles. In short, it was pure bliss, like coming home after a long journey.

You had been loath to leave him when the treacherous sun started to set at the end of the day; Boba even threatened to keep you forever if you weren’t careful, as if that was supposed to make you want to leave any more. How could you be expected to sleep in your own bed now that you knew the warmth of his? Go to sleep without his chest rising and falling next to you? You were falling hard, tumbling down into love’s abyss with arms open and heart willing. That should scare you, it had in the past, but how could you be afraid when it was Boba Fett you were getting lost in?

When he finally did take you back to your apartment once the sun dipped below the horizon, you almost convinced him to come inside for “just one drink” before he thought better of your ploy to keep him and sent you through your door with a smack on the ass.

“Nice try, princess. I know what you’re up to.”

“What? I’m just being a hospitable host.”

“I’m pretty sure hospitable hosts don’t try to put their hands down their guests’ pants in the doorway.”

“The good ones do, and only for guests who can fuck like you.”

He laughed with that rich, delicious rumble of his then kissed you until your head spun and your lungs cried for air. Just thinking about it now makes your chest tighten and breath catch in the back of your throat. Gods I wish I could sneak over to his office and kiss him like that again. Run my hands over his broad shoulders and strong chest, feel his heartbeat quicken when I kiss him.

With the advent of classes, you’d hardly seen him outside of the afternoons when he’d walk you to your car at the end of the day. Talking on the phone every night was great, but it couldn’t replace actually being with him, especially when you’d been able to spend almost everyday with him those last two weeks of the summer break. All this time apart served to show just how much you enjoy just being around Boba; you miss the weight of his voice, the serenity of his solid presence, his dark eyes and the bright smile he seemed to reserve for you alone. He fed a part of you that you didn’t know was starving and tended to the soft pieces of yourself that had been trodden down by the unkinder parts of life.

Oh, and he can make me come so hard I forget my own name. Repeatedly.

The sound of someone actually saying your name interrupts your daydreaming. Unhappily snatched back from the rosy past to the dreary present Thursday, you swivel towards the source of the interruption: a smirking Selena leaning against the back office door with her arms crossed, smug. “Thinking about your professor again?”

“No,” you deny rather unconvincingly, rolling out your shoulders to sit up straight with a huff. You’d been caught fair and square but that didn’t mean you're going to admit it.

Your coworker scoffs, rolling her eyes, clearly not fooled by your posturing. “Pfft that’s not what the hearts in your eyes say. I think you even have a couple floating above your head.”

Looking around the spacious room, you throw your hands up. “Does nobody in this library have any work to do besides harass me?” There’s barely a patron in sight, the large oak tables in the atrium sitting empty except for a handful of students hunched under the green bankers lamps lining them.

“On a day like today? Absolutely not.” Selena drops down on the chair next to you with a yawn and a stretch, not bothering with the guise of work at all. “Did you decide what you’re wearing to the baccalaureate reception tomorrow?”

The event in question is the big kickoff to the academic year for faculty and staff at the end of the first week of classes. Held in the space the two of you are currently seated in, the library’s ornate atrium would be cleared of all its furniture and set up for an evening of hors d’oeuvres and drinks on the university’s dime. Despite the ostentatiousness of it all, you enjoyed the reception as it let you catch up with colleagues you rarely got to see during the academic year and mingle with the new professors. You were especially looking forward to this year’s, not in the least because it provided the opportunity to see a certain Mandalorian studies professor dressed to the nines.

“I was thinking of the green velvet dress, the one with the mesh top,” you answer. The outfit in question is one of your favorites; the rich material hugging your curves in all the right ways making you feel effortlessly sexy—you can’t wait to see Boba’s reaction to it. If you're lucky, you hope, he’ll drag you off somewhere and have his way with you before the night is over. And then again when we get back to his house.

Selena squeals and claps her hands excitedly. “Eeee, the one that makes you look snatched?” she wiggles her eyebrows at you “‘Cause if it is, your man doesn’t stand a chance!”

You laugh, curling your hands inward and cocking your head dramatically. “Yes, that one. You still got those black heels I can borrow?”

“Yeah, as long as I can use that clutch you let me use the other week.”

“It’s a deal,” you grin. “Oh, and Boba said we can get ready in his office so we don’t have to go all the way home and come back.”

“Are you sure he meant ‘we,’” she gestures between the pair of you skeptically, “or just you? I’m not trying to cut my contour while you two are going at it on the couch.”

You throw a pad of yellow sticky notes sitting on the computer at her. “He meant we, and besides,” you smirk, “I’ll just suck him off before you get there so you can fix my makeup after.” You both burst into giggles after a poor attempt of stifling them, your laughter earning you a glare from a passing professor, which you ignore.

Balancing her chin on her hand, your friend considers you for a moment. Her big brown eyes are a bit lighter than Boba’s, ringed with dark lashes and expertly applied winged eyeliner. “So you really like this Boba Fett then?”

A sunny smile spreads over your face, the answer easily on your lips. “You know what? I do, I really, really do. He’s strong and kind and funny in his own way, and he makes me feel safer than I have in my whole life. He matches my energy like… like he was made just for me. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at him or hearing him talk. He could read the kriffing phone book to me and I would be riveted.”

“Hold on, let me write all this down so I can send it to Hallmark for their next movie,” Selena interrupts, grabbing a pen from the cup on the desk. You roll your eyes and she snickers before softening. “Really though, I’m so happy for you, girl. It’s not every day you find someone who makes you feel like that.”

Her warmth and genuineness make your heart twinge: you are truly grateful to have a friend like her. “Thank you, Sel, that means a lot.”

She leans in and rests her head on your shoulder, and you give her a squeeze. “Now,” she starts, grinning, “do you know if he has any sons around our age for me?” Dissolving into giggles once more, you decide to give up on work for the remainder of the rainy day.

You rest a hand on your hip, taking a swig from your water bottle and admiring the efforts of the last half hour’s labor: the primly decorated circulation desk showcasing all the library’s services and resources for the reception guests to peruse. The attendees would begin arriving any minute and you were eager to present all the library offers for the faculty; you genuinely enjoy your work and you’re proud of the new primary source collection you’d established over the summer. It also meant you finally got to see Boba—you hadn’t gotten to see him when you and Selena went to his office to change, his department meeting having run over.

Try as you might, you can’t help the wanton tingle that sparkles down your spine under your dress, or heat creeping into your cheeks at the racy memories of the pleasure you found on his tongue, cock, and fingers. What you wouldn’t give for a quickie right now, just a little something to take the edge off…

“Excuse me, miss, where can we put the catering carts?”

Right, I’m supposed to be working. Stuffing all the wicked thoughts swirling in your head to the back of your mind, you smile at the event server and direct him down the hall. Hearing the swell of voices from the lobby, you turn and see the first attendees filing into the atrium, dressed in cocktail dresses and suits. Your eyes search for Boba in the crowd but you’re quickly caught up doing your presentation on the library’s collections and resources.

It’s not until your last group before you hand over your representative duties to Selena for the remainder of the evening that you spot Boba leaning against the wall across from the desk, watching you with Fennec at his side. Your practiced spiel jumbles together at the wicked gleam shining in his eyes and he smirks, whispering something to the handsome woman next to him. Taking a sip of water, you recover and roll your shoulders back to stick your tits out just a little more with your chin held high at his challenge.

After the group clears out and you hand things over to your friend, you saunter over to your two favorite professors. Sticking out a hip, you trail your eyes up the oxblood colored shirt stretched across Boba’s chest, taking in the delicious way his sharp onyx suit is tailored to his thick frame. Knowing what all is hidden underneath his clothes only makes the whole ensemble even hotter. “Can I answer any questions about the library for you, professors?” you ask in a syrupy voice, your tone laced with dark sugar.

Gazing at you rather appreciatively, Fennec answers first. “Yeah, are you free later?”

Your brows raise with a suggestive arch, biting your lip and leaning into her game. “Why, what do you have in mind?” you shoot back, letting your gaze linger on her pink lips.

She’s practically purring, running her long, graceful fingers down the length of your arm. “Why don’t you come home with me and find out, kitten?”

“Mmm sorry, no can do, Fenn,” you hum, flicking your eyes over to an amused Boba, “I already made plans with the new Mandalorian studies professor after this.”

“What? That old man?” she scoffs, flicking her intricate braid over her shoulder.

Boba throws an elbow at her, grumbling, “We’re the same karking age, Shand.”

“Well, Fett, I guess some of us just wear it better then.”

“I don’t know, that’s not what she was moaning in my ear last weekend,” Boba replies, as smooth as Corellian whiskey and just as sinful. A jolt of arousal shoots between your thighs, his open possessiveness sending heat straight to your core.

That remark earns a full-bellied laugh from Fennec. “Touché.”

Another faculty member passes by and steals Fennec away, allowing you to slip into her spot next to Boba and press your arm against his. While you don’t intend to hide your more-than-professional relationship with him, you don’t want to draw judgment down on either of you. “Fenn make you a little jealous?” you tease, bumping your elbow against him.

He smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Not when I know you’re coming home with me, princess.” He slips a hidden hand between you and the wall to skim his fingertips down your back to settle his palm just above the swell of your ass, making your skin light up with the sensation of him. “It’s good to see you, babygirl, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it before the reception started,” he adds in a sweet, low voice, pressing a quick kiss into your hair. “And your presentation was excellent.”

You lean into him for just a heartbeat, savoring his affection before breaking away. The heated pulse between your thighs spurs you on. “Oh, you were actually listening? Looked to me like you were peeling this dress off me in your mind.”

“I heard you're supposed to imagine everyone else naked to do public speaking.”

You smack his arm, giggling. “That’s if you’re the speaker!”

“Ah well, it was worth it anyways,” he grins at you. Seeing a group approaching, he regretfully takes his hand off your back.

A few faculty from the biology department come over and greet you, its ever-affable head, Professor Bernard, pressing a glass of champagne in your hand. “The department of biology’s honorary member needs a drink!” he proclaims with a hearty laugh before clapping a hand on Boba’s shoulder, telling him, “Come see this one here if you need anything. She’s found papers and journals I didn’t even know still existed!”

“I’ve heard she has some… special skills,” Boba answers with a quirk of his lips.

Catching the tone gilding his words, you slide your gaze over to him and see that same mischievous twinkle in his eye. Oh, so it’s going to be like that then? Hope he knows what he’s started. The conversation continues as introductions are made on both sides and stories of the first week of classes are shared.

“You didn’t get stateside until a few weeks before the semester? How on earth did you manage to get everything done, old sport?” Bernard questions.

“Oh, that would be thanks to me,” you interject, grinning at the ensuing laughter, “Lucky for Professor Fett here, I was able to work very closely with him to get everything he needed.”

“And for that, I am eternally grateful. It’s not everyday you get someone who's so eager and willing to please,” Boba replies calmly, sipping from his own drink like he’s simply discussing the weather.

You cover your scoff with your glass and drain the rest of it. “And now since he owes me one, I’ve got him at my mercy. Just where I like him.”

“Looks like you’re in for it now, my friend!” the old biology professor guffaws, grasping Boba’s hand in a firm shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fett. Stop by my office for a drink some time.”

The group moves on to the next familiar face in the crowd, leaving you and Boba alone. “Better watch it, princess,” he rumbles, enticing danger coating his words, “Or I won’t show you any mercy later tonight.”

With a cursory glance to confirm that no one is watching, you brush your lips over his ear, just enough to raise chill bumps on his tan skin. “Oh, professor,” you whisper, sordid and low, “that’s what I’m counting on.”

Though he’s never confirmed it in so many words, you know your professor likes to watch you play your little games, talk and flirt and ensnare yourself so deep in your own undoing you have no choice but to beg him for mercy when the night is over. He’s the patient hand of justice to your calculated subversive impulse, the solid weight to balance your scales. He’s the rock you scrape your match against to set your passions ablaze.

You’d learned to build bonfires, great roaring things, on the summer camping trips you’d taken with your cousins as a kid. You were even quite good at it, the framing of the timbers and the flick of the wrist necessary to strike the flint coming naturally to you. Maybe that’s why you were so good at burning through Boba’s patience with slippery innuendos and heated looks.

You know building a fire takes time; seasoned wood must be gathered, tinder procured, a spot cleared for the blaze, all this before the pyre can be built stick by stick. If constructed correctly, the dry litter would catch the struck spark and burn bright and hot, igniting the kindling to crackle and snap, eventually spreading the growing flames to the larger logs for a sustained burn. If the ratio of smaller sticks and thicker pieces was off or the build of the bonfire didn’t allow enough oxygen in to feed the early feeble flames, then the pyre would be nothing more than a smoking pile of cold wood. And that would not bring Boba to a boil, make him spill over hot and scalding in vexed passion.

His restraint and control were truly commendable. To his credit, he’d spent the larger part of the evening calmly watching you work the room during the baccalaureate reception, gifting smiles and glittering laughs to men who didn’t deserve them and to women who wouldn’t actually do anything with them, even if they wanted to. You are in your element and you know it, making you not only powerful but dangerously so.

Taking a sip of the sparkling flute of champagne pressed into your hand by the one of the history department, you let your eyes wander around the vibrant space, taking in the celebratory atmosphere around you as laughter and animated conversation twine together in a lively buzz. You take your time in your survey, knowing that your gaze would eventually land on what it sought. You spot Selena next to one of the exquisite floral arrangements decorating the room laughing with one of the film professors and Fennec leaning against one of the polished marble columns in deep conversation with a pretty woman with sparkling eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one going home with somebody tonight.

Finally, your languid scan of the party falls on its target: a certain Mandalorian studies professor. He looks truly glorious under the glistening chandeliers illuminating the library, they cast a soft, warm glow that makes his bronze skin gleam and scars glint with tantalizing effect. It’s his eyes, however, that make your knees go weak: they shine dark and expressive, the umber of them always on you no matter where you found yourself in the room. If eyes really are the windows to the soul like they say, then Boba Fett has a soul like the ocean, with unknowable depths and enough pressure to break bones, towering waves that doom sailors and hidden currents that whisk the unsuspecting into the abyss.

Gods above, you want to drown in him even if it takes calling down Poseidon's wrath to do so. You’ve built your pyre, now all that’s left is to light it.

Putting on your most dazzling smile, you sidle over to the drinks table to casually “bump” into Professor Lancaster, the admittedly handsome 30-something hot shot bachelor of the university faculty. “Oh, I am so sorry!” you apologize in a breathy rush, immediately grabbing a napkin to dab at the splash of champagne on the young man’s suit jacket. The look of surprise on Lancaster’s face swiftly morphs into opportunistic pleasure when he sees that the person with their hands on him is the young research librarian in a tight dress.

He grins. It’s a scavenger’s smile, hungry for a kill that isn’t his. “No worries, bright eyes. You okay?”

“Better now that I’m with you.” His brows shoot up and, you’re absolutely sure, so does his dick based on the way his pupils dilate. “Sorry,” you giggle, fluttering your lashes, “too much?”

You can feel how his greedy gaze slides over your exposed skin in open interest. “Maybe not enough,” he winks, “Let’s get you another drink.”

You spend the next twenty minutes at the young professor’s side as he slowly inches you towards the side door by circulating from one group to another under the guise of “making introductions”—like you didn’t already work at the university. The entire time you sneak peeks at Boba watching your antics with rapidly decreasing levels of patience. Eventually, you lose sight of him behind a cluster of English professors.

You’re literal feet from the exit when Lancaster slides a hand down to your waist, tugging you against his side by your hip bone. “What do you say, bright eyes? Wanna get out of here?”

The pompous look on his face tells you everything you need to know about this man: he’s used to getting what he wants and he’s not afraid to take advantage of your possible inebriation to get it. He’s disgusting. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of how much you dislike this man and consider slamming your heel down on his overpriced loafer. Before you get the chance, however, a familiar deep voice sounds from behind your back.

“Excuse me, I have some business with this one here.” Boba’s voice leaves no room for disagreement, at least if one was smart enough to know it.

Lancaster, unsurprisingly, is not. “We were just leaving,” he says dismissively with an annoyed expression, reaching to turn you towards the exit, “It’ll have to wait.”

“Don’t think it can,” Boba responds flatly. He grabs your bicep and peels you out of his grasp. Ignoring the younger man’s sputtering as he leads you down one of the hallways branching off from the atrium, going far enough that the noise from the reception starts to fade off. Rounding the corner into the stacks, he abruptly flattens you against the wall, caging you in and pinning you with his hips.

If his slight manhandling of you before had you wet, this has you soaked: his thick forearm rests on the wall next to your head while his other hand remains locked around your upper arm, just tight enough to remind you it could bruise if it got any tighter. His hips, however, are likely to leave their mark on yours—it’s all enough to drive you nearly insane with desire. You’re too hot for your own skin and Boba is radiating enough heat to brand you and melt your brain like wax.

“Not so brave now, are you, little princess?” Boba croons, licking his lips like he can taste your salt on his tongue. “Now that you’ve got nowhere to run and no pretty boys to bat your lashes at.” His muscular thigh pushes its way between your own and he grinds up into your center, forcing a moan up behind your teeth.

“I have… no idea… what… you’re talking… about,” you gasp, writhing on his thigh as your hands fly out to fist his suit jacket in a gnarled grip. You can feel your brain melting down the sides of your skull under his piercing gaze.

“Oh, you don’t?” he mocks, “Well let me enlighten you then, sweetheart. You spent the entire evening driving every man and the women Shand didn’t get to first out of their minds with your pretty little face and flirty little mouth. And all for what, to get my attention?”

You’re burning so hot you can’t even think, much less get your tongue to unstick to form a coherent sound, so all you can answer with is round, shiny eyes and a shiver.

“Well, now you have it, princess,” he continues, a predatory smirk slashing across his dark features that makes your insides twist with his danger. “What are you gonna do with it?”

“I-I was just having fun,” you manage, your voice coming out hoarse and pitchy. Boba’s pressed so far into you that you’re scraping along his thigh as you ride it.

He grunts, shaking his head in disbelief. “She says she was ‘just having fun…’” he mumbles to himself as if the thought is amusing to him. You flash a tentative smile in hopes of sweetening him up, but the lurid flash in his eyes signal that it’s far too late for such mercy. “If that’s what you do for fun, princess,” he hisses out the pet name, “then it looks like I need to keep you on a shorter leash.” Releasing your bicep, Boba’s hand wraps around your throat faster than your muddled perception can register.

The strangled curse that claws up from your chest can’t even escape the confines of your throat to sound. Blood rushes to your head as your entire existence narrows down to the rough hand pressing in on your airways. You’re gushing into your panties, the amount of wetness now coating your thighs utterly obscene. Fuck he’s going to be the death of me and I want him to do it.

Boba’s rumble of pleasure at your response rattles in your own chest as he eases up on the pressure of his fingers to let you suck in desperate air, rubbing the delicate flesh underneath. “Oh, you liked that didn’t you? You like it when I’m rough, dirty girl.” His taunts are pouring fire into your bloodstream and sweat begins to slick your skin. Leering, he drags his tongue over your racing pulse point and your mind goes searingly blank. For a moment, you think you might have actually come with the way blinding pleasure floods your entire body.

“Fuck, Boba!”

A sinful chuckles drips from his plush lips into your damp skin, and he seals it away there with a wet kiss before pulling back to look into your glazed eyes. “Do you know what I do with brats who forget their place?” he asks in a timbre so low you can feel it in your bones.

This you know, you think, this you can push back on and regain some ground. “You punish them with your silly little toys and spank their asses a bit,” you spit out, your derision honed sharp as your initial surprise begins to wear off.

“Oh no, princess, you’d enjoy that too much.” An acidic laugh pours from his lips, making your blood run painfully cold, and he smiles at you like you’re struggling prey caught in his maw. “What I do,” he growls, “is I don’t let them come.”

Before the words even leave the air between you, Boba releases you and pushes away from the wall where he had you pinned. You stumble forward, your head spinning with the dizzying loss of contact and terrifying revelation. Panic sticks needles into your skin. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t. He couldn’t, right?!

“Aww, is that not what you were expecting, sweetheart?” Boba asks with a crushing amount of false sympathy, chucking up your chin on two fingers. You’re coming apart at the seams and he loves it. “Thought you could pull one over on me?”

Heart pounding against your ribs, you race to figure a way to repair your situation, one that ended up with him fucking you through at least one orgasm. Kark, why did I think this was all a good idea again? Gods I’m so kriffing wet I can’t think. Come on… focus, focus! The second you get the idea you act on it, wasting no time debating its worth.

You drop to your knees right in front of him, yanking him forward by his belt buckle. Boba catches himself against the wall with an outstretched arm and a curse, his smug expression shattered by genuine shock. As he stares down at you with wild eyes, you grin a wicked thing. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not what you were expecting?”

Boba stares at you like you’ve remade his entire universe, his broad chest heaving under the straining buttons of his shirt. Sucking in a ragged breath, he hauls you to your feet and slams into you, his hand cupping the back of your skull so it doesn’t hit the wall when his lips crash into yours. You pulse and throb into one another, your every breath melting into his as your hands claw into clothes seeking the heat of the other. He becomes you and you become him as time stops moving—if only for a minute.

“Baby, princess, angel,” Boba moans into your mouth, “I gotta have you, I have to have you right fucking now. Go to your office and start touching yourself. Get yourself nice and ready so I can slide right into that perfect cunt as soon as I get you home. I’m going to pull the car around.”

Your panties don’t even make it into the house: Boba literally tears them off you as soon as he puts the car in park in his driveway, stuffing them into his pants pocket and promising to buy you a hundred more so he can do it again. Stumbling with you up the blessedly short path to his front door with a handful of your ass, Boba jams his key into the lock and you both tumble in the door, lips still connected. “Shit, aren’t you always good for a surprise?” he pants between kisses, fumbling with the door bolt until it locks behind him. “Dropping to your kriffing knees in the library. Kark, couldn’t even punish you after that, my bold little princess. Made me too fucking hard.”

Your lips smile against his as you push his jacket from his shoulders. “You just bring it out of me, sir, I-I can’t help it. Couldn’t stand the thought of not having you.” Boba groans at the epithet and you start pulling open his buttons with shaking hands. “That’s why I do it… can’t help myself, just want you so kriffing bad.” When you reach his pants at the end of his shirt, he snatches your wrists and spins you so your back is shoved against the door.

“You’re so good to me, so fucking good. Even when you’re a brat, you’re my little angel, doing it all for me. Maker, you’re perfect.” Boba snags the hem of your dress and bunches it over your hips, allowing the cool air access to your slick folds and making you shiver. “Good girls get rewarded, don’t they, princess? Yeah, that’s right. I’m going to make you feel so, so good, give you the reward you deserve.”

Your desire-dazed brain can’t decide whether to focus on the stream of filth pouring forth from his mouth or his lips as they kiss over your dress and down to your soft belly as he comes to kneel in front of you. Effortlessly tossing your leg over his shoulder while balancing you against him, Boba steadies your body with his hands on your hips. “Will you let me return the favor, pretty girl? Will you let me lick up this perfect pussy?”

Smiling down at him with lust-blown eyes, you answer in a breathy laugh. “But I didn’t even actually suck you off.”

“Bet you would have, though, princess, if I had let you.”

Fuck, he’s probably right. You weren’t kidding when you said you can’t help yourself. “Yeah, I would have,” you giggle, “Why didn’t you?” The thought of slipping his thick cock in between your lips when all those other people were just a hallway away sends a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your core.

“Mmm because I want to hear every single sound that comes out of your mouth tonight… and none of those fuckers deserve to even think about you, much less hear those sweet noises you make when you’re coming apart.” Boba begins layering sloppy kisses over your thighs and abdomen, circling ever closer to your drenched center. His dark eyes flick you to capture yours in a heated gaze. “Let me hear it, pretty baby, can I eat this sweet cunt?”

Lacing your fingers with his hand on your opposite hip, you lean your head back on the door. “Please, sir, please let me have your tongue.”

The words don’t even finish leaving your lips before he dives into between your legs, groaning like a man starved getting his first meal in months. The sounds of his slurping and sucking have your knees giving out almost immediately, rapturous pleasure consuming your entire being. All that exists is the way his tongue fucks into you, the way his lips wrap around your aching clit and how he pulls moans deep from within your stuttering chest. When his thick, calloused fingers push inside your weeping heat and curl, your hand slaps over your mouth to stifle a ragged scream as explosions of color blur your vision.

Boba claps his palm against your ass and pops off your clit. “Don’t you fucking dare cover that mouth of yours. I want to hear everything, sweetheart, I want you to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood with how good I make you feel.”

The torturous coil in your belly tightens to a delicious pain and you let your pleasure be heard, your jaw falling slack as your head tips back against the heavy wooden door. Boba redoubles his efforts, cursing and praising, sucking and licking, twisting you tighter and tighter around your own desire until it’s almost unbearable. When a third finger slips into you, it feels like the floor drops from beneath your feet and you know you're doomed to your desire. “Please, can I-can I-”

“Fucking come all over me,” he growls straight into your clit, digging so deep into you think you see the Maker.

A wail tears free from your chest, echoing off the walls and vibrating in your skull as you dissolve into pure pleasure, raw and vulnerable against the mountain of his body. To be so ethereal and untouchable in his arms is a new, divine dimension of your ecstasy that heals you even as you fall apart into a soaked, quivering mess.

“Nau’ul be kar’ta,” Boba coos in a voice like crushed velvet, rich and dark, “my beautiful, perfect girl, come here.” You collapse in a trembling heap into his waiting arms, your mind nothing but a plane of warm, fuzzy bliss. You’re lifted and arranged in his lap by impossibly strong hands as you drift through the glowing stars of your high. Boba rocks you gently against his heaving chest, a stream of patient praise streaming from his lips pressed into your hair. “You did so good for me… taste so sweet, makes me want to keep you on my tongue forever… kark, bet the whole street is jealous with how loud you were, such a good girl, letting me hear that sweet voice just like I asked…”

Eventually your senses start to return and you wiggle around to straddle him, placing your molten core directly over top of his straining erection and eliciting a graveled groan from him. “Mmm, that was amazing, professor,” you hum into his throat, “Now let me return the favor.” You tug his shirt off and he lets you drop it to the floor. “I wanna go over every single tattoo on your body with my tongue until it’s all I can remember.”

“Kark, you’re filthy, princess,” he groans, his cock twitching with interest underneath his pants as hauls you up with him off the floor. By the time you stagger to the bedroom, your clothes are gone, littered in a trail from the door to his room. Seizing your opportunity, you shove him back on the mattress and hop on top of him, pushing a grunt from him that makes you giggle. “Easy, little one, I’m not as young as I once was,” he grits out between your kisses.

Grinning into the thick muscle of his pec, you nip at the ink you just traced with your tongue. “Sorry, I forgot I have to be careful with you, old man.” Boba pinches your ass and you squeak, though you remain unrepentant.

“You must want me to be mean to you tonight, sweetheart.”

You continue licking and sucking over the dark swirling patterns on his chest. “Mmm, maybe I do.” While you’d never been much for that sort of thing before, none of those men before had been Boba. If his praise is sweeter than honey you can only imagine how delicious his ire would be, and something hot sparks between your legs. “But I wouldn’t want to wear you out, old timer.”

A dangerous, low chuckle emanates from the ribs under your lips and your insides twist into knots. “You really know how to bring it out of me, don’t you, naughty princess? I think you really do want me to be mean, want me to treat you just like how you’ve been acting all evening.” Snatching you against his chest, he grabs your jaw in a tight grip. “Tell me, little one, is that what you want? You want me to call you names and remind you who you belong to?” He brushes his thumb over your cheek in a small show of affection that reminds you this is all a game, and you can call it off if you want to. It makes your heart sing—and your pussy clench.

“Yes, Boba,” you rasp, molten desire pumping hot and heady under your heated skin, “I want that, please.” You’ve accepted the fact that Boba Fett makes you want things that you never have before, sinful things that make your cheeks burn and heart race. It’s a forbidden fruit that the professor is all too willing to indulge you in, him licking up its sweet juice as it dribbles down your chin.

“Anything you don’t want me to call you? Any limits you want to set?” he questions, his voice taking on that firm, guiding tone he always used when he worked through things with you.

Chewing your lip, you consciously slow your breath like how Boba taught you so you can focus in the moment when you’re all worked up. “Don’t call me ‘bitch’ or anything too serious like that. ‘Whore’ and ‘slut’ are fine though.”

He nods, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Remember to stop me if you don’t like something, babygirl, I’ll never be upset if you do. What’s our word?”

“Kamino,” you answer dutifully, wriggling a little in your excitement, desire licking up your thighs—your evening-long machinations were about to come to fruition.

“Good girl,” he praises, “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

The dominant, possessive side Boba tucked away during your discussion returns tenfold more wicked now that it’s all decided. He sits up, taking you with him as drops down into the armchair against the wall. “Then get on your knees,” he sneers, “You want to act like a whore, throwing yourself at everyone who shows you any interest in that tight little dress you had on, I’m going to treat you like one. I want you sucking my dick like that’s all you know how to do.”

You drop so fast it makes your head spin, allowing your base desire to freely submit. You undo his belt with hungry fingers, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to reveal his half-hard girth. Instead of yanking down the last barrier separating him from your tongue, you run your nails up his thighs and drag your open mouth over his growing bulge over his underwear, pulling a hiss from his lips.

“I didn’t say tease me, girl,” he admonishes, though he’s fully hard now, straining against the confines of the fabric still on him. “If you do as you’re told, maybe I’ll think about giving that pussy what I know it needs.”

You moan into him, his cock jumping at the feeling. You tear down his underwear and his beautiful cock springs forth, proud and already leaking. “Fuck,” you exhale as you take him all in, “you’re so big.” Kark, I swear he’s even bigger than last time.

“Aw, don’t be scared, sweetheart, I like it when they choke,” he taunts with a cruel chuckle that goes straight to your sopping cunt. He pumps his tanned length a few times and your mouth waters at the sight of it. “Now open up that pretty mouth.”

Your jaw drops open and you stick your tongue out, wide and ready, your hands folded in your lap. Wiggling in anticipation, you blink big eyes up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re fucking filthy for me, aren’t you? On your knees right where you belong, tongue out like the good little slut you are. Go ahead, princess, I know you want it.” He smacks the head of his cock on your waiting tongue and you lunge forward, ravenous for more of him. He groans as you swirl around his frenulum, lapping off the pearls of precum waiting for you. Your hands travel up his thighs and he releases his grasp to let you replace it with your own.

Cupping his balls, you plant wet, sloppy kisses down his length, pleased when you feel the slightest tremble in his thighs. Peeking up at him, you find Boba looking down at you, his eyes pitch black and voracious in their desire. Keeping your gaze fixed on him, you lean in and pepper kisses around his base before flicking your tongue out to drag along the seam of his balls.

“Shit-fuck!” His right hand flies to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Kark, you’re dirty,” he rasps, tugging your face back a little to look in your eyes.

You grin up at him, spit already dripping down your chin. “Just for you, sir.” Your voice is breathy, your chest already heaving from exertion.

“Good girl, learning her place already. Now finish this up for me, little princess, I still have to fill that pussy full so everyone knows just who you belong to.” The whimper that falls from your lips would have been embarrassing if you weren’t so turned on you can barely form a thought that isn’t concerned with getting his dick inside you. “Aw, does that make you wet, pretty baby?” he mocks, clearly enjoying your depraved reactions. “You like it when I talk to you like you’re my personal whore, my warm mouth and tight little pussy to take whenever I feel like it?”

You pull at the hand holding you back by your hair, desperate to have him down your throat, desperate to cry and gag at the size of him. Boba chuckles, deep and pleased in his chest and loosens his grip so you can get him back in your eager mouth. Once you have him heavy on your tongue, you hum happily and begin bobbing your head over his velvet length, gradually taking more of him into your mouth. Boba’s hips stutter when you slide your tongue along the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock, triggering your gag reflex.

You try to swallow down the suffocating feeling, but the sheer girth of him makes your throat close up. Choking and coughing, you pull off of him, tears beading in your lashes and spit running down your neck. Boba takes your face in his warm, calloused hands and tilts your face up to him. “Everything okay, little one? Too much?” he asks, concern lining his handsome face.

“No,” you pant, voice already ragged, “‘s perfect, just caught me by surprise.” You smile up at him then turn your head to kiss his palm. He’s so good to you that it makes you ache.

He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping away the moisture collected on your lashes. “Okay, I want you to tap me anywhere three times if you need to stop. It’s the same as our word if you can’t speak. Can you say that back to me so I know you understand?” You nod, repeating back the information. “That’s my good girl,” he beams, “Now I think there’s something you need to finish.”

You’re on him in an instant, guiding him back into your waiting mouth hungrily. As much as you love licking and sucking up and down his cock, slurping and swirling with abandon, what you really want is to do is take him to the hilt and swallow him down until he loses control. Taking what hasn’t made it past your lips in hand, you start pumping him and twisting your wrist, your fingers sliding easily over his spit-soaked skin.

“Fuuuu- that’s it,” he grunts, “look at you taking me so well. You must really want me to fuck you, my filthy little princess, must really want- shit.” He hisses, his hand shooting out to brace himself against the wall when slide enough of him in your mouth to take your hands off him to rest them on his hips. You look up to see his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched, and you hum appreciatively around the thickness stuffing your mouth, “Osik, d-do it, I know you can take it all, sweetheart. Do it for me and-shit-and I’ll fuck you so good I’ll be dripping from your pussy for days.”

You moan, your throat relaxing to take the last inch and you swear you could’ve come just from the sound that ripped free from his chest if it didn’t take all your brainpower to keep him seated in your mouth.

“Kark-fucking-stars above,” Boba chokes out, his free hand coming to guide you up and down his cock at a steady pace, “Look at you taking it all, I’m so proud of you, so p-proud, fuck, pretty girl.” His eyes are locked onto where he’s disappearing over and over again into your open mouth.

Blinking up at him with watery eyes, you swallow around his thick cock and he snarls. He tugs you off him and pulls you up into his arms, kissing you like he needed you to breathe and walking you both back until your thighs hit the bed. It feels like he’s everywhere, his tongue filling your mouth, his hands grabbing every inch of you as his hips pin down your own. “Shit, open up those legs for me, princess, I need to be inside you right fucking now.”

You fall back on the mattress, letting your thighs fall open. “Please, sir,” you gasp when two of his thick fingers slide inside you with no resistance.

Boba groans, the sound so deep it feels like it rattles in your own. “This fucking wet just from sucking my dick. Kark, you’re really a whore for an old man aren’t you, sweetheart?” You can only moan in response, clenching around his rough fingers and keening into him, unable to communicate any more of an answer than that. “Cockdumb already, little princess? Here I thought you were my big girl… maybe I should just go back to fucking your mouth if you’re not going to use it. You certainly were eager to run it earlier though, weren’t you? Talking to all those other men like they could possibly make your sweet little pussy feel like I can.”

His thumb finds your clit and you cry out, arching into him. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me, please give me your cock!” Your head is snatched back by your hair, making a high whine catch in your abused throat at the sudden movement.

“You know better than to say my name,” he threatens, his rasp dangerously low. “Mmm, since you suck cock so good I’ll let it slide this one time, but you had better not forget again, little girl. You hear me?” Boba’s eyes are ablaze with dark fire, the intensity of him burning with the heat of a dying star, sucking you into his inescapable gravity.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” you whimper. His scalding words are going to make you come apart at the seams just as much as his fingers.

“Oh, you will be.” He pulls out you with an obscene squelch, a trail of your arousal connecting him to you. “Look at that, my princess wants it so bad. She wants anything I fucking give her. Isn’t that sweet? No, you know what, don’t answer that. Be a good little slut and clean this up for me.” He pushes his slick coated fingers past your swollen lips and you moan at the tang of your own arousal, your heady taste spreading over your tongue as you suck his fingers clean. He removes his hand from your face, the digits in your mouth coming out with a lewd pop.

Lining himself up with your dripping slit, Boba takes your face gently in his large hand, the caress so much softer than his previous words. “Hey, look at me, babygirl.” You slide your gaze up his broad chest to find his sable eyes. “You good? Everything okay? I know I usually prep you a little more than this.”

“Yeah, s’good. I’m so fucking wet, bet you’ll slide right in,” you giggle, slurred and happy. Truthfully, you hope it’d hurt a little, just enough so that you’d feel it tomorrow—a secret reminder that you were his.

Boba gives you a smile, a real smile bright and shining, not one of his mean ones from your game. “Okay, little one. Remember you can say your word or tap me three times if it gets to be too much. I don’t want my princess hurting.”

Golden affection blooms in your chest even as you give him a sassy little salute. “Yessir.”

“Maker, what am I going to do with you?” he huffs, exasperated. The twinkle in his eye betrays him, however.

“Hopefully, fuck me.”

“As you wish, brat.” Boba slots his lips over yours and slides into your heat, inch by inch as you moan into each other’s mouths, completely enraptured with the feeling of one another. When he pulls back to sink in further, he hisses out a curse. “How’re you always so fucking tight? Shit, you feel so fucking good.”

The way he’s slowly splitting you open makes your eyes roll back in your head, your hands scrabbling across his shoulders for purchase. “Fuck, you’re going to tear me in two… don’t stop,” you whine. The stretch around his cock burns, quickly fizzling into hot pleasure that makes you crave more, deeper, harder. It’s ungluing the edges of your mind, pushing your good sense out of your skull one thick inch at a time. Tears prick your eyes at the delicious strain, your teeth biting down on Boba’s lip as he pushes flush with your hips. You’re not sure if the guttural moan is his or yours or both combined, you’re so full of him.

Boba snaps his hips, jolting you further up the bed and setting a harsh pace that has your legs shaking around his hips. You’re burning, melting, screaming, completely wrecked by his pleasure. He’s leaning over you now, an arm bracing himself next to your head as he drills into you with unwavering force. Tearing his lips from yours, he licks a searing stripe up your neck that makes you clench around his pounding thrusts. “Fuck, you think that boy can fuck you like this? Think he can stretch you out on his cock and make you cry and beg for him? Hmm?”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Whimpering, you shake your head. “N-no, s-sir, only you! Onlyyouonlyyou, fuck, only you!”

“Fuck, you’re dirty, aren’t you? Ready to suck my dick with all those people there, riling me up all night so I’d take you back here and fuck you like the slut that you are for me. That’s right, isn’t it? Yeah, I know it is. You’re such a good little slut for me, taking my cock like that’s all you were made for. Kark, I bet you’d let me fuck you in front of all of them wouldn’t you, my filthy little princess?”

You moan, raking your nails down his back and making him curse in pleasure. “I w-would do anything, you feel so good, fuck, I would let you do anything to me! Just don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“You want it, huh? You want me to fuck you and make you all mine, fill up that tight little cunt and so my cum runs down your legs? You gonna take every drop I give you like the good little girl I know you are?”

“Yes, sir, please,” you sob, overwhelmed by the rough drag of him against your collapsing walls and his skin burning into you with each thrust of his powerful hips.

“Then tell me who this pussy belongs to, I wanna hear you say it so you never karking forget it again.”

“You, you, it belongs to you!”

“Say my name, princess, say my fucking name.”

“Boba! It belongs to you, Boba Fett, I’m all fucking yours, Boba, please!”

He pulls back, grabbing the back of your thighs and shoving them up, folding you in half. Slamming back into you, he slides a hand between your bodies to rub your clit in tight, maddening circles.

“More, please more!” you beg, clawing at his free hand until he lets you have it, and you place it on your throat.

Boba growls, wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing so that your world narrows down to just the feeling of him. Finally just him and nothing else.“Osik, you’re so fucking filthy and perfect, never wanna stop fucking this sweet cunt. K’atini ner cyare!”

“I’m gonna… can I… please,” you choke out, barely holding onto the last shreds of your sanity against the onslaught of ecstasy burning through you.

Groaning, Boba covers your mouth with his. “Come for me, soak my cock, give it to me, come on, princess, I know you can do it.”

Everything goes blank, your muscles constricting and your nails digging into his shoulders. Pure, electric energy fires through your veins, overloading your senses to a searing bright pleasure that makes you understand how the universe could start with a bang. You’re rocked with two, three, more pumps that shatter your fledgling universe and then you’re flooded with the sweet heat of his release.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re conscious as you float through the glittering galaxies that flash behind your eyes in dazzling color; you’re not even sure you remember how to breathe but you must be, because your lungs aren’t protesting. The next thing you’re truly aware of is being in Boba’s arms, laying curled into his chest on the bed while his fingers scratch pleasantly against your scalp. Humming in delight, you snuggle deeper into his woody scent.

“Mmm, there she is,” he chuckles, the warm sound buzzing in his chest.

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, squeezing your eyes back shut—you want to be lost in him forever.

“Gotta come back some time, pretty girl, or I can’t get you in a nice warm bath then tuck you in bed with me,” he entreats, rubbing warmth into your limbs with calloused hands.

You consider this tempting offer; it certainly would be better than sleeping sticky all night, you suppose. “Can you bring me a snack?”

“I can bring you a snack.”

“And I can have a massage?”

Boba lets out an amused huff, giving you a squeeze. “And I will give you a massage,” he confirms.

You make a show of pondering the issue further, chewing your lip and studying the ceiling thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll allow it then, professor.”

Boba laughs again and eases you both up to a sitting position before sliding from underneath you so he can walk around to your side.

Rolling over, your thighs spread a little, and you gasp and slap them back together when you see the mess there. “Boba!” you squeak.

“What, little one?”

“You, it-it,” you stutter, tripping over the words in your shock, “how is there so much?”

He cocks a brow and you let your legs fall all the way open. “Oh, princess,” he breathes out, his voice a strained rasp. The inside of your thighs are slick with both your cum and your folds are coated in his pearly release, the excess dripping down to soak a spot on his sheets. Boba reaches down and spreads your lower lips a little farther apart, sending more of him leaking down your slit. Boba curses and you bite down hard on your bottom lip around the moan flooding up your chest.

“Well,” he grins, smug as the cat who caught the canary, “I did tell you I was going to fill you full, princess.”

Feeling equally refreshed and drowsy from your warm bath, you robotically go through the motions of your nighttime routine. From his bathroom mirror, you catch a glimpse of Boba where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed: he looks forlorn, his eyebrows furrowed over a pensive expression. For such a larger-than-life man, he seems almost… small.

His pain weighs heavy on your soul, prompting a visceral reaction in your gut. The muscles in your chest tighten and your arms yearn to press him close so there would be no room for pain in his body. Flicking off the light, you pad over to him with deliberate ease as not startle him in his revelry; Boba is a hardened man, you know, but you want to nurture that slip of vulnerability he allows himself in your presence, protect it close to your own.

He smiles when he sees you approaching, quickly papering over his melancholy expression with a happier one, but it doesn’t manage to make it to his brown eyes. He spreads his legs a little wider so you can stand between them and pulls you close with his hands on your hips. “All done, princess?”

“Yep,” you answer, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. You let a few silent seconds slip by, making way for him to speak his mind. When he doesn’t acknowledge his latent discontent, you settle back on your heels with a sigh. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or am I going to have to threaten you again?”

Boba grumbles a huff that sounds a lot like “too observant” and tips forward to bury his face in your tits, pulling you further into him. You allow him a few moments of respite, stroking the back of his neck with light fingers before easing his face up to look at you.

“It’s nothing, really-” he starts, his expression clouded over with false reassurances.

“Don’t try that crap with me,” you cut him off sternly. Then, more gently, you add, “Please Boba, be honest with me. You help me… let me help you.”

“You know I can’t deny you,” he mumbles after a moment, defeat echoing in the back of his throat. He leans forward, and you let him rest his cheek on your chest while he silently composes his thoughts as your fingers resume their patterns on his neck. “Watching you tonight… you are so bright and young and beautiful, and I’m just an old man with a scar for a heart that never quite worked right. You deserve… so much more than what I can give you. Someone who can make their words come out right because you deserve to know how special you are, cyar’ika. Someone who doesn’t have a past like mine, a person without so many sharp edges and broken parts. I’m missing pieces and you deserve someone who’s more… whole.”

There’s true pain in his voice, the agony and strife of a man who has endured and had to bear the cost of that survival on his own, with wounds that never completely healed alongside scars that run so deep they’re etched into his bone and being. If only he knew how beautiful it made him that he never let that secret soft part of him die, you think. That despite what would have been the logical choice for anyone in his position, he chose to tuck his tenderness away for safekeeping rather than letting it wither in reality’s harsh sun.

“Boba, I want you to listen to me and listen to me good.” You take his beautiful face between your palms and trace your thumbs over his cheekbones, mimicking the affectionate gesture he often used with you. This close you can see the dark lashes around his brown eyes and all the torment held within them; it makes you physically ache to know that this man, this perfect, wonderful man doesn’t think he deserves everything good and pure because he’s roughed up and his soul has some dings in it. That it somehow precluded him from deserving the same love he so willingly gives to you despite your own imperfections.

“I love you, Boba Fett, I love every scar on your body, every bruised muscle and broken bone. I love your dark, hidden parts just as much as the ones which see the light. You know why? Because they made you who you are, they made you into the man who makes me feel safe, makes me feel beautiful and happy. You are a man of action and that’s worth far more to me than any string of pretty words ever could be. You are enough and you are mine, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

By the way his fingers clutch into the plush of your hips, you can tell he desperately wants to believe you, that he wants to reject the jagged demon of doubt buried in his heart like old shrapnel. But Boba casts his eyes down, still unsure.

“Do you trust that I can make my own decisions?” you ask, soft and firm, patient but unrelenting. He nods with a hum of agreement. Closing the gap between you, you rest your forehead against his creased brow, “Then let me make this one,” you whisper, kissing him until your lungs burn for air, and even then you stay on his lips for a few more lingering seconds.

Boba looks into your eyes, staring like you held all the secrets of the universe within them. After a couple of heartbeats, he loops his arms around your waist and pulls you back on top of him on the bed, making you yelp and giggle. Kissing you, he maneuvers the two of you under the blankets. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he breathes into you, the peaks and valleys of his father’s tongue rippling in your mind like cool water over rounded river stones. “Thank you for that, babygirl. I will try.”

You hadn’t yet asked him what any of the Mando’a words that slipped out of him meant, permitting him his secrets for now. Shifting your hips over his and deepening the kiss, you lick into his mouth as you lazily start to rut into him. Boba has given you a lot just now and you want to see that he’s rewarded for it.

“Little princess,” he chastens when your pace begins to pick up, “it’s late and I’m old.”

“You're not that old,” you nip at his lip, “and I’ll be on top.” You accent your offer with a grind of your hips that has him groaning at the friction between your bodies.

“You're not a very good listener, are you?” he grunts, “Besides, I need you well rested for tomorrow. I'm taking you out on a date.”

You stop dragging your hips over his, pulling back to stare at him. “A date?! You didn't tell me that, I didn’t bring anything to wear!”

“That’s because first, I’m taking you to get some more of those little sundresses you like to tease me with so much, and then I thought we’d go to that poppy farm you showed me on your phone the other day. They have ice cream there and a lemonade stand.”

You squeal in delight, kissing Boba all over his handsome face while he smiles warmly up at you. “You are too good to me, Boba Fett!” you manage between your flurry of pecks. He puts the sun in your chest and in air in your sails, and on top of all that, he’s apparently a secret romantic.

“Princess, I'm just getting started. You mean so much to me and I'm going to do my best to never let you forget it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you settle into his side, curling into him. “Now get some sleep, cyar’ika, I’ll be at your side, always.”

—Endnotes: I went to a poppy farm the other weekend and it was so effortlessly romantic I knew I had to write some Boba to go with it. (also don’t look at me like that, y’all KNEW this was gonna be a sugar daddy fic eventually lmao)

I've got some stuff coming up so the next posting will be two weeks out instead of one (I'm sorry 😭) but rest assured that I will be posting some extra snippets to make up for it!

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

(ner) cyare - (my) beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

nau’ul be kar’ta - light of my heart

ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - I love you, (lit. "I hold you in my heart forever")

osik - Mando'a curse akin to "shit"

#i honestly do not know how i survived writing this #i think i passed out several times and my fingers just kept typing because 😮‍💨🥴🥵#professor boba owns my entire ass (and p*ssy)#zwei writes #fanfic #ex libris fic #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #professor!boba fett #professor boba fett #professor au #star wars fanfiction

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iamsherlocked-1998 · 11 months ago

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Masterlist ✨

Hello! I´m Sarah.

I write only for Pedro's characters - not for Pedro himself.

I prefer one shots and littles stories.

I'm always open to requests, love have conversations.

Many of my stories include GN!Reader & M!Reader, they have LGTBI content (male x male). I don´t usually use original characters, but there are a few of then.

The stories may contains smut of varying degrees, violence and speak about sensible topics.

I love add gif and pics in my fics for made it more interesting.

My first language isn't english, please be patient with some errors in writing.

Please consider re-blogging it and leaving a comment, In fact I like to answer them. I also usually follow users who follow me❤

Come browse and have a good time 🥳

Din Djarin (The mandalorian):

-Cold is a phase (series): A little Christmas story, although it has some angst at the beginning.

PART 1

PART 2

-A Harmless Indulgence.

Story with blind reader, small domestic moment.

-When the storm passes

Contains description of nightmares and post-traumatic stress.

-Infection (Dincobb).

Zombie AU, with a little surprise in the end.

-In good and bad times (Dincobb).

The marshal helps with Mando's injury.

-Winter days

Just smut without plot.

-The Unknown (series): With a OC, Mando meet someone special.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-The Cave.

My version of the living waters.

-The Sorcerer (series, crossover): Doctor Strange is coming.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-The Hangar (Dincobb): Peli found an unexpected guest in her workshop...

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-Communication.

Grogu first words

-Very long night (Dincobb).

A canteen night...

-Stolen days (Dincobb).

Wounds heal and bonds are created...

-Together.

My version of the reunion in The Book of Boba Fett.

-Goodbye.

A little anguish.

-Darkness (+ 18).

This story contains violence and loss of self-control.

-Mistletoe (+18).

A special to celebrate the end of Christmas with something a little spicy, Dincobb.

Oberyn Martell (GOT):

-Hot springs.

Just smut with our prince.

-IMAGINE (Dark, +18).

Javier Peña (Narcos):

-Healing.

The reader is a victim of drug traffickers since childhood and know Peña. Obscenity ensues.

IMAGINES:

-Joel Miller

-Break-up (multi characters).

-Sick (multi-characters).

-Din Djarin (Belong).

-Family.

-Earth.

-Dave York.

Marcus Pike (The mentalist):

-Broken Branches

A halloween story with some smut.

OTHER ACTORS AND CHARACTERS:

-Sherlock BBC (the smiling client).

A horror story based in the film.

#myself #pedro pascal #sherlock bbc #Writting #pedro pascal characters #benedict cumberbatch #marcus pike x reader #oberyn martell x reader #javier peña x reader #the mentalist #narcos #game of thrones #pedro pascal x oc #din djarin x reader #din djarin & grogu #doctor strange

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thirstworldproblemss · 2 years ago

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I posted 3,242 times in 2022

201 posts created (6%)

3,041 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@themandaloriandaily

@eggdrawsthings

@bestintheparsec

@trashcora

@ithinkwehitametaphor

I tagged 3,230 of my posts in 2022

#q - 3,067 posts

#pp stuff - 2,080 posts

#it's mando hours - 1,905 posts

#star wars - 1,868 posts

#din djarin - 1,632 posts

#the mandalorian - 1,574 posts

#fanart - 1,427 posts

#gifs - 909 posts

#grogu - 907 posts

#the book of boba fett - 789 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#we've not *quite* hit national lampoon levels of ridiculous complications and inconveniences but boy have we come closer than i would like

My Top Posts in 2022:

Anonymous Asked:

I’m seeing your stories again all through my dashboard. People finding out about the underrated Frankie.

It’s been decided. No more catfish. He is now officially known as ………

Frankie “Big Dick” Morales😈😈😈😈

lol🥴🫣

—

Ahahaha... Hell Yeah! 'Big Dick' Morales for the win!! <3

🚁📏🍆

Thank you, love, for the support and for making me laugh!! 😁🥰

Alas, as much as I wish I could take credit for the idea, I definitely was not the first to envision Frankie as a big boy.

Here's some of my other favorite 'BD' Frankie stories:

Coming Home by @astroboots (the first part of her Frankie x reader x Santi Homecoming ‘verse which was the inspiration for In the Still of the Night)

Weeknights by @frannyzooey (this entire series is so, so good, and once things heat up in ch 3: Wednesday it’s hot like fucking FIRE)

Behind the Raindrops by @jazzelsaur (a long, sometimes painful read, but an absolutely fantastic one; there's some exceptionally hot solo action in ch 8.1.1, and then Frankie’s BD officially joins the group chat ‘round about ch 13)

Moving Day by @adverbedly (also Frankie x reader x Santi; possibly the og BD Frankie, or at least the first one I remember reading)

Wild Things by @charnelhouse (charnie has so freakin’ many fantastic fics featuring ‘BD’ Frankie, but I think this one just might be my favorite of hers)

These are just the ones I could remember off the top of my head (well okay, I had to phone a friend because I have the memory of a goldfish--thanks, cici!), but I'm sure I've missed a bunch!

Anyone else have any 'Big Dick' Frankie recs to share? 👀👀

95 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

Anonymous asked:

So happy you extended the deadline for your fanworks celebration! I have to share some of my favorite recent Triple Frontier fanfics! 🤩

✩ Slumber ✩ by @write-and-buried {Frankie}

✩ Bunny Girl ✩ by @laters-gators {Santiago}

✩ The Party ✩ by @juletheghoul {Frankie}

✩ Only Angel ✩ by @j-buchanan {Frankie/reader/Santiago}

✩ Sunshine State ✩ by @brewsterispunkk {Benny}

✩ Double or Nothing ✩ by @supernaturalgirl20 {Frankie}

✩ My Brother's Keeper ✩ by @dieterbravospr {Frankie}

✩ Time Changes ✩ by @tripleissue {Will}

Hope you like them!

→ (See the full post)

122 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

Fic: Not Smart, Very Stupid Games

(Part of @astroboots' Homecoming ‘verse )

Fandom: Triple Frontier Pairing: Santiago Garcia x F reader (x Frankie Morales) Length: 7.5k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: This fic contains explicit sexual content including male masturbation, getting caught, orgasm delay/edging (both accidental and intentional), a handjob and some mild fem dom within a poly relationship. Also mentions oral sex, p-in-v sex, m/m/f threesome shenanigans and a homemade sex tape.

Summary: Santiago Garcia is not the most patient man, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn… right?

Notes: This story takes place in ‘boot’s spectacular Homecoming ‘verse. Her reader is taller than Santiago but should otherwise be a blank slate (please let me know if I botched this). Set at some point after the events of Play stupid games win stupid prices, which are referenced here. You don’t need to read that (or any of HC) to understand this, but why wouldn’t you!? It’s absolutely amazing!

Not Smart, Very Stupid Games

[ twp’s Masterlist | HC Series Masterlist ]

“There is a file in your documents folder named ‘sex tape’,” Santi says into the phone, running a hand over his jaw as he stares at the file in question, “Please tell me that is not our actual sex tape?”

“Of course it is. What else would it be?” you respond distractedly, tone ever-so-slightly indignant in the way that says you don’t see what the problem is.

“You can’t just–” He breaks off, massaging his temples in a futile effort to rub out some of the tension building behind his eyes. “Cariño, that’s a huge security risk. Anyone could just waltz right in and click play.”

He suits actions to words, sliding the pointer over to double click the file. The player opens, and then he’s looking at an image of you climbing into Frankie’s lap.

Shit. He’s going to have to encrypt this.

→ (See the full post)

174 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

Favorite Fanworks Recs

Here’s the final list of all the fic, art, gifs, and more that were recommended for my Show Me the Fanworks! Celebration. In the end you lovely folks recced a truly spectacular 154 of your favorite fanworks from 75 talented creators!

💕 Thank you so much to everyone who participated!! 💕

Here’s a breakdown of fanworks by character:

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) - 34

Frankie Morales (Triple Frontier) - 25

Javier Peña (Narcos) - 18

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble) - 10

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall) - 10

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley (Moon Knight) - 10

Ezra (Prospect) - 8

Santiago Garcia (Triple Frontier) - 7

Pedro Pascal - 5

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist) - 4

Javi Gutierrez (TUWoMT) - 4

Miller Brothers: Benny & Will (Triple Frontier) - 4

Dave York (The Equalizer 2) - 3+

Agent Whiskey (Kingsman: TGC) - 3

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes) - 2

Max Phillips (Bloodsucking Bastards) - 2

Black Krrsantan (The Book of Boba Fett), Pedro Across the Street (Calls), The Thief (Casillero Del Diablo), Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones), Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984) - 1 each

→ (See the full post)

352 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Fic: In the Still of the Night

Fandom: Triple Frontier Pairing: Frankie Morales x F reader Length: 8.7k Rating: Explicit like whoa for sex stuff

Warnings: this fic contains explicit sexual content including male masturbation, edging, accidental (and then intentional) voyerism, overstimulation, and unprotected p-in-v sex within an established relationship with some soft femdom and swtichy overtones. May inspire unrealistic expectations.

Summary: Frankie “Big Dick (Bigger Libido)” Morales wakes up in the middle of the night wanting you.

Notes: Please be aware that I’m not even close to joking about this Frankie having a big dick and an even bigger sex drive. I’ve tried to play it straight (and hopefully sexy) for purposes of this fic, but be prepared to suspend your disbelief a little (we’re officially in “refractory period? what refractory period?” land, folks)

—

In the Still of the Night

[ twp’s Masterlist ]

—

It’s the middle of the night when Frankie jolts awake, his pulse thudding away in his ears, arousal clenched like a fist in his gut.

→ (See the full post)

435 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#oh tumblr #twp's tumbr year in review #2022 year in review #blog statistics #...of course ALL of those 'top 5' are dwarfed by red flags and the other moon knight fics i've cowritten with @astroboots XD

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hunnythebee · 2 years ago

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Request Rules

If any request goes against my rules I will not respond.

Please be patient with me. I will get to your requests as soon as I can.

I write x reader in first person (I, my) or third person (she/they, hers/theirs). I will not write in second person (you, yours).

I only write x reader for female reader and gender neutral reader. I don't write for male, I feel it is not my place.

Expect requests to be oneshots (unless I become inspired, but just don't expect it)

Things I will write...

Character x reader (romantic or platonic)

Character x Character (romantic or platonic)

Headcanons

Fluff

Angst

Smut (Only for +18, I WILL CHECK)

Hurt/Comfort

Trauma

Jealous

Gore

fics including more than one character (goes for smut as well)

Things I won't write...

NonCon

Incest/Clonecest

Pedo

Necro

Mutilation

Furry

This is a Star Wars fic page, meaning I write for...

Skywalker Saga

The Mandalorian

Book of Boba Fett

Andor/Rogue One

Clone Wars

Rebels

The Bad Batch

You may request a fic including any character in the franchise, if I am not comfortable writing for that character I will answer you privately to let you know. This will not be a violation of my rules, there's just too many characters I will write for to list.

All fics are added to my masterlist and AO3 if you do not want it to be linked/tagged please let me know in your ask.

18+ Separate rules for smut will be linked here. 18+

Thank you for reading and respecting my rules and I look forward to writing for all of you!

#requests #rules

0 notes

wthtorke · 3 years ago

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I will gladly take the title of posting the first (that i know of) Krrsantan x Trans! Male reader fic on this site, thank you jfjshchdhf. A Warning though: this is very explicit and has dirty talking AND knotting sooooo yeah

Needs and Desires

Krrsantan had been visiting the brothel regularly lately. Not for the matters he wished for but for matters that needed resolving, such as dismembering his foes. Only that tonight, he craved something more.

Krrsantan’s gladiator years were full of pain, sacrifice, sex, and blood. He learned that he didn’t care for the receiving part’s gender as long as they were consenting to him. He wasn’t searching for a lover’s touch nor was he searching for fake expressions of pleasure while he had his own, he was hard to please, and he knew it. He picked his hookups himself, always. Finger pointed, meeting scheduled, done, paid.

He walked inside the establishment once more, scanning the usual girls that walked about, all smiles and little clothing. He dismissed the ‘Can I help you?’s and ‘Looking for someone?’s as he made his way around the corridors, searching.

He turns a few corners before he spots someone he hasn’t seen here before. The figure walked at a leisure pace, more covered than the girls downstairs, and the fact that it wasn’t a girl at all. It was a man. Krrsantan watched as you made your way to one of the doors, powering his strides so he could catch up with you before your hand landed on the panel.

He didn’t need to touch you, for you must have heard his steps, turning sharply to meet his gaze. Your face was half-covered by a mask, the same scarf material some of the girls wore.

“Are you a client?” He asks, pleased to see how you relax.

“Client? No, no...Hmm, Krrsantan, right?” You say, eyeing Krrsantan up and down, the same way he had done to you not a minute ago. Desiring.

“Do you work here? Are you available?” He inquires again, starting to get impatient. You chuckle, hand coming up to caress Krrsantan’s arm, “I’m new here, and for you? Of course, I am. Follow me.” You say, hand closing around Krrsantan’s much bigger one, leading him into one of the vacant rooms.

Krrsantan watched as you locked the door behind you, turning back to look at him, "Now, all that armor won't do." You say in a tone that makes his cock strain under his belt armor. You were awfully compatible.

You step closer to Krrsantan and lift your hands to his shoulder plates. Krrsantan gets a better whiff of your scent now, you’re every bit as aroused as he is. Good.

One by one, pieces of his armor are placed on the nightstand near the bed, until Krrsantan has nothing to do but unwrap the very feast that's standing in front of him, all willing and wanting.

He tells himself not to rip off any clothing, not because he'd have to pay for it, but because he definitely didn't want a scolding and potentially losing one of the best fucks he's ever going to get.

He caresses a clawed hand against the your face, watching how you closes your eyes, melting into his touch. He picks the you up and places you on the bed, belly up, briefly savoring the view before running his hands along naked skin, such a contrast to his own. He spots a pretty cunt at the end of the trail, waiting for him.

Krrsantan spreads your legs over his hips, "Have you ever taken a wookie before?"

You chuckle, "Afraid it won't fit?"

Krrsantan smirks, looking at the small hole he'd soon be filling with his cock, "Consider yourself warned."

He watches as you guided a hand to your cunt, "Get in here." You say, laying against the plush pillows, the challenge in your tone making Krrsantan growl.

Krrsantan rumbled through his chest as he took his cock in hand, sliding it against the wet folds, pressing the swollen head against your entrance, getting a sigh and a moan out of you. You steady himself holding onto the bed and onto the arm Krrsantan was holding yourn thigh with, feeling yourself being spread open by Krrsantan’s cock. “Fuck-.”

The purrs, growling and moaning got louder the more Krrsantan buried himself into your pussy, relishing the moans and gasps and panting, all the little noises you made. He hadn’t even started yet, he chuckled.

“Fuck-,fuck, fuck, come on-, please-,” You moan, the last word making Krrsantan’s cock twitch. You caught onto that in a flash. “Please, please fuck me-, I’m all yours- fuck me Krrsantan.” You moan, looking him in the eye as he fully seats inside of you, hips flush against your ass.

Krrsantan growls as he grips your thighs even harder, lifting them over his shoulders and withdrawling his cock until the head catches around you before slamming it back again, hammering you back into the bed. You barely had time to gasp before he did it again, your hands flailing to grasp anything to keep you in place when in reality it was purely Krrsantan’s grip on your thighs that prevented you from getting a concussion.

Each thrust made you see a different set of stars, each stroke making you moan louder and louder, “Stars-. Fuck! Ahn-, ‘Santan-, fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t st-Ah!”

Krrsantan roared as the pleas only fueled his lust, hammering impossibly deeper into the tightest cunt he’d ever fucked before, feeling the knot around the base of his cock swelling with each thrust.

Your eyes widened as you realized just what was going to happen to you when that knot was full, a hand gripping the fur on his thigh as he fucked you mindless, “I’m gonna- shit, Krrsantan, ffu--, shit, ahn-!”

Krrsantan growled and shot a hand to your throat, pinning you in place as his thrusts got more and more erratic and violent, the slapping of his balls against your ass making you blush hard while your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. You screamed as you came hard on Krrsantan’s cock, your hand pulling whatever fur of his you could reach as he fucked you through the intense pleasure wave as chased his own finish. You opened your eyes again to look at him, braids whipping with the sheer force of his movements, grunting, growling and snarling as he fucked you hard into the mattress. “Come-, in me, fill me up, ‘Santan-,” you moaned, your cunt raw from the friction but spaming around his cock.

Krrsantan snarled, teeth bare as his grip around your neck tighetned as he slammed his cock one last time into your cunt, the knot pushing inside and locking both of you together as thick ropes of cum covered your walls, Krrsantan groaning and relaxing as you moaned and panted, feeling your insides getting filled by his come.

Krrsantan lowered himself on top of you, not only letting your throat go but burying his face into your neck, you smiled, feeling blissfully sated and sleepy.

Krrsantan’s knot deflated within minutes, you getting up as soon as it let go of you, cleaning yourself to the best of your abilities, but still relishing how stretched you felt, and how sore as well. Getting dressed as quickly as your muscles allowed.

Krrsantan stirred as you turned to leave, fetching a bag of credits and handing it to you. You shook your head, “Oh, I’m not allowed to touch money, my dear. I’ve been…naughty, before. Pay at the front when you leave, no worries” You smiled, he nodded, picking up one of his shoulder plates as you opened the door, turning to him one last time, “See you around, Krrsantan.” You winked as the door closed behind you.

Krrsantan took his time putting his armor back on, getting a drink from the bottle in the room before grabbing his credit pouch and heading downstairs, getting one last look around the room, chuckling and leaving.

He gets bumped into a couple times as the workers all but rush around, whispering and looking worried, he raises his eyebrow at some of them, looking for the hostess to pay for his debt.

“We have no male servicers with that appearance…When did you say it happened, again?”

Krrsantan frowned, “Not an hour ago.”

“Interesting…and where did you say he was going when you spotted him?”

Krrsantan growled, “The last room of the upstairs corridor.”

The hostess sighed, her hand coming up to rub her temples, “Congratulations, Krrsantan. You hooked up with a mercenary.” She said, Krrsantan’s eyebrows shot up. “It would seem that after having his fill of you, he went back to the task he came to accomplish. Executing a trandoshan who apparently was known for being a sabacc trickster. Tricked the wrong people." She said lowly, servants coming and going around, apparently them. "Pay for the drink and the room, which you did use, and all is well." She sighed, hand ready and waiting for the credits Krrsantan deposited in it.

"And Krrsantan?" She says, he looks back, "Hope you had fun. Have a nice night." She smiles, turning to instruct one of her girls.

He grunts and shakes his head, leaving the brothel, not noticing the hooded figure on top of a nearby building laughing quietly before darting off into the night.

#black krrsantan fanfic #black krrsantan x trans male reader #black krrsantan #black krrsantan x reader #black krrsantan smut #krrsantan x male reader #krrsantan x reader #krrsantan #the book of boba fett #book of boba fett #boba fett #bobf #alien relationship #star wars fanfiction

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monako-jinn-stories · 3 years ago

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Boba Fett X GN!Reader Fanfic

The Tribute

Master List

Chapter Two

Chapter One

Warning: reader is mentioned to be a slave in the beginning

You’re extremely nervous. You’ve heard about these bounty hunters before, and they aren’t joke. Boba Fett, survivor of the sarlacc pit, one of the first clones of the legendary Mandalorian Jango Fett, skills beyond his age. He is a ghost come back to life, a true legend. Fennec Shand, an assassin, mercenary, and bounty hunter, a reputation that spanned beyond the galaxy, and no joke to mess with.

“Why did it have to be me,” you mumble to yourself. You look around nervously, fleeting glances at the curious townspeople of Mos Espa around you. You fidget with your jewelry before you look at your destination again.

“Almost there, y/n,” you say, and when you reach the line, you take a deep breath. You don’t like being around these strangers, you feel unsafe and exposed.

“Ah, a fine young specimen you are,” the person in front of you says as he eyes you up.

“Back off, sleazeball,” you say, trying to sound confident. He just laughs, and takes a step towards you. You back up, glaring at him.

“You’d make a fine toy to have on my side,” he says, reaching out and grabbing your arm. His grip is tight, and you struggle to pull away.

“Let go of me!” you yell, and he just grins wider and pulls you closer.

“Next!”

“Oh, come on. Think of the possibilities I could give you,” he says, his other hand coming to grab your other wrist.

“Let! Go! Of! Me!”

“NEXT!”

“I could take you in, show you off as my personal escort.”

“Hey! It’s your turn, idiot! Go inside!” the person behind you says to your attacker.

“Ah, I will. Just when they listen to me and behave,” he says, a look of frustration growing on his face.

~~~

“What is the hold up?” Boba whispers to Fennec, brows furrowed under his helmet.

“I don’t know, maybe there was some kind of incident outside. I should go check-“

“No no, wait here. Don’t worry, they can sort their own scuffles out. Save your energy for more important things.”

“Like what? Receiving all these tributes?”

“Well I can’t have you falling asleep because you’re tired,” Boba chuckles.

~~~

“Man, just let them go! They’re not even with you. I saw them walking here alone, and you were already here before. Stop wasting everyone’s time because you want sex with some hot person,” the person behind you says. The man doesn’t let go though, and starts to drag you with him.

“Help me!” you shout, pulling with all your strength to try and pry your hands from his grasp. There’s a click behind your head, and then a blaster shot. You let out a small yelp, and the body in front of you disintegrates.

“Kriff!” you say, throwing the now bodiless hands from your wrists. “Why didn’t it disintegrate his hands?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t really care. Just get in there, give him your tribute, and leave. We’re all waiting,” your, quite reluctant, savior speaks. You gave him a brief nod before turning back to the entrance. The sick feeling comes back, and you take a shaky breath before stepping down the stairs.

The steps echo loudly under your feet, and you dread every sound you make. Your rapid breathing is like a roar, and your heart beating in your ears is deafening. You try to stop the shaking of your legs, but you’re not sure how well it works. Finally, you reach the last step and look up.

Kriff, that was already a mistake, you think. I should have been looking at them as I walked down. Should have kept my head up. The room is thick with tension, enough for you to choke on. The woman, who you assume is Fennec Shand, looks as though she’s picking apart every detail of you. The other, the one sitting on the throne who you assume is Boba Fett, is giving nothing away, except possible ease. The way he’s sitting, relaxed, not very concerned, suggests that either he doesn’t care, or that he’s enjoying his time.

“My name is y/n,” you say, giving a slight bow, “I come on behalf of everyone of the Zygerrian Empire. We hope to be able to peacefully continue to supply the palace with entertainment.”

“Entertainment? Is that what they call slaves?” Boba whispers to Fennec.

“The Zygerrian Empire has never been a respectable power. Their history of slavery expands long before the clone wars. Perhaps we should keep in contact with them, find a way inside to destroy their business.”

“Good idea,” Boba agrees, giving his attention to you again.

“And what tribute do you bring for the great Boba Fett?” Fennec asks, lifting a brow. You pause, fidget, stop yourself. Straightening up a bit, you try to look as confident and sure of yourself as you can.

“The Zygerrians have offered me, as tribute,” you say. The tension in the room builds extraordinarily fast, and you fight the urge to crumble into yourself. Fennec’s gaze has turned to absolute disgust, and Boba is now leaning forward in his throne.

“They what?” Boba asked, his voice laced with venom. You plant your feet to the ground, forcing yourself to stay where you are and not run away.

“They offered me, great Boba,” you say again. His fists clench, and Fennec stands from where she had been resting on the side of the throne.

“Disgusting creatures,” Boba sneers, standing up and taking a few steps before he pauses. You yourself had backed up when he stood, your eyes wide with fear as you watch him.

“Boba,” Fennec says, a slight warning in her tone. You’re thankful for the helmet he’s wearing, because you knew you would disintegrate like the attacker from before if you were to see his gaze.

“It’s okay, little one,” he finally speaks. His voice is soft, gentle. He slowly reaches out a hand, holding it out to you. You wait, chest heaving as you try to quell your panic.

“We won't hurt you,” he says, “I won't hurt you.” You remain where you are, unable to will yourself forward. You knew their reputation, how could you possibly trust them? Fennec is standing with her arms folded, you can see the confusion on her face. Even she doesn’t know what Boba is up to.

“Would you like me to sit back down?” Boba asks, and finally you gather enough strength to give a small nod. He nods back, and steps back to his throne.

“Please, don’t be afraid. We can help you,” he says. You look at him in both fear and confusion now. A bounty hunter, no, two bounty hunters, we’re going to help you? You can’t help but worry about what that could possibly mean.

“How?” you finally speak. Boba turns to look at Fennec, and she returns to her seat and leans over to speak to him.

“We can’t keep them, it won’t look good,” Fennec mumbles.

“Well we can’t just send them back either,” Boba counters. “They’re a slave, and you know how the Zygerrians treat their slaves.”

“Boba, what other choice do we have? If we just let them go, the Zygerrians could track them down and that would be a lot worse.”

“We let them stay,” Boba says. Fennec leans away from him, giving him a shocked and confused look. Her eyes search his visor, but she doesn’t get anything from it.

“You’re insane, we can’t have a slave!”

“They won’t be a slave. They’ll be free, but they can work for us, work for credits. We could give them a fine pay, and simple work. Really, it could just be small tasks here and there for, say, a fair amount of credits. Enough to live more than comfortably on.”

“Boba, we can’t just hand out our money either,” Fennec says, leaning back in.

“What other choice do we have? Like you said, we can’t have a slave, and having them just be let go, completely, would be bad if they were tracked down. If they stay here, work for us, they’ll be safe.” Fennec eyes Boba, a million thoughts racing through her head before she looks back at you. Your eyes flick to meet her gaze, and she lets out a sigh.

“Fine, but we have to do this right,” she says. Boba nods, looking at you again.

“We can help, if you will accept our offer,” he says. You nod, agreeing to listen. “We will set you free, but because of the danger, you will have to remain here to work for us. We can offer you pay-“

“I’ll do it,” you say, cutting him off. Your eyes widen then, a hand snapping up to cover your mouth. “Apologies, great Boba. I didn’t mean to cut you off. Please, forgive me-“ Boba cuts you off with a chuckle, and your eyes widen even more. Another wave of panic washes over you before he holds up a hand.

“My dear, do not apologize. It is a good feeling, knowing that I can help, and that you will eagerly take it. Please, interrupt all you like. You can speak freely here.”

“Thank you, great Boba,” you say, giving another slight bow.

“Ah, enough of the bowing,” he says, waving a hand. “And enough of this ‘great Boba’ nonsense. Boba is just fine.”

“Yes, Boba,” you say hesitantly. He looks at Fennec then, and they exchange a look.

“Now, since you will be with us, you don’t need to leave the palace. I will gladly show you to a room,” Boba says, standing again. Fennec stands as well, turning her back to you and placing a hand on Boba’s shoulder.

“Boba, not right now. We have more people waiting.”

“Those others can wait, Fennec,” Boba counters. Fennec shakes her head, nods towards you.

“They’ll be fine. I'll tell them where to wait, okay?”

“Fine,” Boba grumbles, sitting back down. Fennec turns to you then, and you fight the heat that threatens to cover your cheeks under her intense gaze.

“Y/n, if you will, please head down that hall and enter the first room on the left. Wait there for us, we will attend to you later.” You nod, bowing to her, before you straighten up.

“Yes, Sir Fennec.”

“Oh, I like that,” Fennec mumbles to herself, and Boba chuckles.

“Shall I start calling you Sir Fennec now?”

“Only in public,” she responds, letting a small smirk cover her lips. You walk away then, heading to where Fennec had instructed.

You sit in the room alone for a while, not really knowing what to do. There isn’t much in here, just a table, some chairs, and a couch. There aren’t any windows, so you can’t look out onto the streets. You also hadn’t brought anything, seeing as you really don’t own anything except what is on your body now.

As you’re sitting on the couch, eyes closed and mind drifting, there’s a light knocking on the door. You open your eyes and sit up, looking over to see Boba standing in the doorway.

“Hello, little one,” he says, “may I come in?”

“It’s your palace, isn’t it?” you joke, and he tilts his head towards you.

“Oh, yes-well I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it,” he says, and you smile and nod.

“Yes, Boba. I’m comfortable with you coming in.” He nods and steps inside, looking around briefly.

“On a scale of me sitting in the farthest chair, to me sitting on the couch next to you, how comfortable are you?”

“You can sit next to me,” you say, biting your lip to try and stop the smile from growing. He nods again, moving to sit next to you. His hands move up slightly, but they pause, and he seems to think over something before shaking his head slightly, and settling them in his lap.

“So, are you getting used to the place?” he questions, and you give him a confused look.

“Uh…I’ve only been in two rooms, but sure?”

“Oh, right!” he says, standing quickly from his seat. “I need to show you your room.”

“Oh, there’s no rush, if you want to sit and talk-“

“No no, it’s fine. I can take you now,” he says, moving to the door. Something in the way he seems to be in a rush to show you to your room, to get the task over with, stings. It almost feels like he doesn’t actually want to be around you.

He probably doesn’t, you think to yourself. I was just a slave before, I don’t have any value to him.

“Coming?” he asks from the door, and you nod, quickly standing to follow. “Would you like a tour, or just to be shown your room?”

“If you do a tour, make it quick,” Fennec says while walking by. “We have places to go, and people to talk to.”

“Ah, right,” Boba says, and his shoulders seem to drop the tiniest bit

“Just my room is fine, since you’re busy,” you say.

“Are you sure? I can make time for the tour.”

“I’m sure, Boba. You have more important things to worry about. And you could give me one later, when it doesn’t have to be rushed.”

“Yes, a tour later, that sounds great,” he says, his posture straightening again. He leads you down another hall, up a few stairs, around a turn, and down another hall. He walks slow at times, other times quickly, like he can’t seem to decide whether to rush or take his time. You walk in silence, and it’s not a very comfortable one. You want to say something, but you don’t know what.

“Are you enjoying being the king?” you finally speak, and he stops in his tracks and looks at you.

“King? My dear, I’m just a simple man, I’m not a king.”

“But you are. Well, more like a crime lord, but you’re kingly.”

“Ah, status is something that only benefits the ones at the top. I use the label when I need to, but I assure you, little one, I am no king. I’m just a simple man.”

“A simple man?” you question, raising a brow to him.

“Yes, a simple man,” he nods. “Just making my way through the galaxy.”

“Just making your way through the galaxy? Nothing else?”

“Well, yes, other things. But I am making my way through the galaxy,” he adds. “Like my father did before me.”

“Your father,” you repeat, sudden realization of who this “simple man” is, flooding you again. “I’ve heard quite a bit about your father. I’m sure he would be very proud of you.” Boba is silent as he stares at you, and you worry you’ve said the wrong thing. The silence continues, too long. You feel small under his gaze, and you take the slightest step back.

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you-“

“No, no don’t say that,” he says, “you haven’t offended me. I just…no one’s ever told me that. It’s…nice.”

“Oh,” you say, and a small smile covers your lips again. “Well, I’m honored to be the first-“

“Boba! Hurry up! We need to go!” Fennec calls from down the hall.

“Ah, I’m sorry, but we’ll have to continue our conversation later. Here,” he says, taking a few more steps and reaching a doorway. “This shall be your room. I hope it's a good fit for you.” You step forward and peer inside, a gasp falling from your lips.

“Boba…” you mumble, stepping inside and looking around. You couldn’t believe it, this was yours. The room was massive, bigger than the room you’d shared with other slaves back with the Zygerrians. The bed, you had a bed. And windows that overlooked the city.

“Is it okay? If you don’t like it, I could let you choose-“

“Boba, it’s perfect,” you say, turning and grinning widely at him. “I’ve never had my own room or a bed before. It’s…amazing.”

“Well, I’ll let you enjoy it then. I’ll be back later, and then I can give you a palace tour,” he says, and you nod. “Goodbye, mesh’la.”

“Uh, excuse you?” you say, not knowing if he’d said a word or sneezed.

“Oh, it’s a Mando’a word,” he says, and he’s eternally grateful for the helmet on his head to hide his sudden deep embarrassment.

“Oh, what does it mean?”

“Uh…it means…friend,” he says, hoping you didn’t pick up on his frantic cover up.

“Oh, well, goodbye then, mesh’la,” you say back. Boba nods to you, taking a few small steps back before turning and walking towards where Fennec was calling him. You wandered over to the window, sitting down on the small seat under it. You watch as he and Fennec leave, heading off to whatever business they are attending. Boba gives a brief glance over his shoulder, looking back at the palace. You give him a small wave, and he returns the gesture before looking ahead again.

It’s a few hours later, as you’re sitting in your room, reading a random book you’ve found, when you hear them come back. You peer out of your room as you hear someone rushing down the hall, and gasp at what you see. The two Gamorrean guards that had left with Boba and Fennec are now practically dragging Boba down the hall.

“Is he okay?” you immediately ask, and the one closest to you shoves you into your room as he runs by. You fall back and hit the floor, but it doesn’t hurt. You’re used to this, being pushed around. You immediately stand back up, but as you try to rush to see, Fennec grabs your arm

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “If you’ve seen his face, that’s already more than he has allowed. Come back to your room, I’ll tell you what happened.” You stare at her for a second before nodding. She leads the way back and motions for you to sit. You do, but lean forward in anticipation as she begins to speak.

“We ran into some trouble on our way back from Garsa Fwip’s cantina. We were attacked, and Boba was electrocuted pretty badly. That, and still with the trauma to his body from the Sarlacc pit, he’s not in good shape,” she explained, before giving a small smirk and adding, “and he’s not as young as he once was.”

“Is he going to be okay?” you ask, looking towards the doorway.

“He’ll be fine, he just needs some time in the bacta pod. He’ll be back on his feet by tonight.”

“Good,” you say, relaxing a bit. “Hold on, you said he isn’t as young as he once was, but aren’t you older than him?”

“Yeah, I’m 16 years older, why?”

“Oh, it’s just funny you’re indirectly calling him old, when you’re older than him,” you laugh.

“Well at least I look better than him,” she jokingly snarks, and you laugh again.

“I can’t say you’re wrong, but I also didn’t get that good of a glance at him.”

“Good,” she says, more seriously this time. She stands, holding a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

Fennec takes you down to a big dining room. There’s a long table in the center, and there’s not much light for the room.

“I don’t know what you usually eat, but I can let you look through and find something you might like,” she says, walking to where the food was kept. You follow, watching as she opens a cabinet.

“I’m not too picky, I usually just ate whatever the Zygerrians bothered to give us,” you say. She turns to you and looks at you for a second, her expression blank before it turns soft.

“Hey,” she says, gently resting a hand on your shoulder, “you’re a real person, okay? You can make your own decisions. I know it’s going to take some time to get used to. Believe me, I’ve seen slaves set free before. You have to acclimate, and me and Boba will help as much as we can, and as much as you allow.”

“Thank you, Sir Fennec,” you say. She smirks again and rolls her eyes.

“You know, I like that title, but please, just call me Fennec. Fen for short.”

“Okay, Fen,” you say, your smile growing bigger. You look back at the food, reaching up and grabbing something you’ve never seen before. You study it, bringing it up to smell before holding it away in disgust.

“That’s actually really good,” Fennec laughs, taking it from you. “You just don’t want to smell it before it’s cooked.”

“You’re serious? This isn’t some kind of…prank?”

“No, y/n, I’m serious,” she chuckles. “Come on, I’ll show you how to cook it.” Fennec takes you over to the kitchen and grabs a few things. She gets out a few other ingredients as well before she motions for you to come over.

“Now, this is a meal I would have as a little girl. It’s very special to me, and I feel like me and you will become good friends, so I’ll share this with you.”

“Oh, Fennec, that’s really nice, but are you sure?”

“What, you don’t want to be my friend?” she asks in a lighthearted tone. You feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment, shaking your head quickly.

“No no, that’s not what I meant, I just-“

“Relax, y/n. I was just joking. I’m not the big scary lady you’ve heard stories about. I can be nice, and I can be your friend.”

“That would be nice, Fen,” you say.

“Besides, Boba’s taking quite the liking to you, and fast. I don’t think I have much of a choice on whether to like you or not.”

“Oh,” you say, suddenly feeling as though she’s not being genuine with her friendship.

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I meant, he wants you around, and I do as well. But even if I didn’t, you would still be welcome.”

“Ah,” you say, feeling slightly better. “Sorry, I’m just not used to this.”

“It’s okay, y/n. You’ll learn,” she says. “Now, let’s start cooking.”

The next hour or so is spent cooking the meal, and when you sit down to eat, you can’t help but let out a moan of absolute pleasure as it seems to just melt in your mouth.

“Fennec, this is amazing!” you say, not caring that your mouth is full as you speak. “Like, incredible! The best thing I’ve ever had!”

“I’d hope it’s better than what the Zygerrians gave you,” she laughs. “But don’t just thank me, you helped a lot.”

“Yeah, but without your instructions, I never could have done this,” you counter. She just rolls her eyes and takes a bite. You chat casually as you eat, getting to know one another. Fennec was right, she isn’t just a scary bounty hunter, she was actually a very interesting and likeable person. You, however, don’t feel the same about yourself. You don’t have much to tell, or talk about. Your life isn’t one that’s been interesting, or that good.

“Well, I hope you get to have lots of fun adventures now,” she says, setting her fork down. “Maybe I can take you around town later, but right now, I have to go meet someone.” You don’t miss the way her lips turn up at the mention of this someone, her eyes going distant for a second. You lean forward slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Oh, who is this someone?” you ask, but she just laughs and shakes her head.

“She’s someone special to me, that’s all you need to know. Hopefully, if all goes well, you’ll meet them one day.”

“I think, as your new friend, I should have to approve of your dates first,” you tease.

“Never said she’s a date, and even if she is, I don’t think you’re anywhere close to being able to have the authority to approve of my dates. Not even Boba has that power,” she says.

“Hm, well, if you say so,” you say, standing from your seat as she did. “Thanks again for cooking with me, it was really fun.”

“No problem, y/n. Hopefully Boba will be out soon, I hate to leave you alone with no one really around.”

“It’s fine, I was alone earlier, I can find my own fun,” you shrug. “Actually, I was reading a pretty good book before.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it then. If I’m not home for dinner, tell Boba I’m with mesh’la.”

“Oh! He taught me that word! He said it meant friend.”

“Friend? Did he happen to call you mesh’la before he told you the meaning?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Fennec says, turning before you could see her smirk. “I’ll see you later, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Fen. Have fun!”

She turns and waves before heading out, leaving you to wander back to your room and your book.

By the time the suns set, you haven’t moved an inch since sitting. The book was truly encapsulating. You don’t even notice the day go by as you’re wrapped into the story. Only when you’re startled by a knock on your door do you finally move, taking a pause from your story. You look over to see Boba peering in, his armor back on as he seems to be recovered.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, mesh’la,” he says, taking a step in. “I was wondering if you would like your tour now?”

“Uh, yeah, just a second,” you say, counting the pages you have left. “Just…give me like 15 more minutes, I’m almost done with this story.”

“Of course,” he says, hesitating in the doorway. “Mind if I sit in here?”

“Go right ahead,” you say, already going back to your story. You don’t rush through the rest, even though Boba was waiting. You like to enjoy your stories when you get the chance to read, fully absorbing every detail. You don’t realize that Boba’s watching you, observing your expressions as you read the last pages. He chuckles as they change from shock, to joy, to fear, to more shock, then relief, followed by another shock.

“No! Kriffing hells!” you say, throwing the book when you finish it.

“Something wrong?” Boba asks, and you snap your head to him before your cheeks boil with embarrassment.

“Oh, I uh…forgot you were here,” you mumble, but he just chuckles.

“No, it was quite the scene. I’ve read that one before myself, and believe me, my reaction was quite similar, though I’d say more destructive.”

“Really? What did you do?”

“I disintegrated the book,” he laughs, his whole body shaking with the memory. “My poor friend was so scared, he’d been relaxing and then he just heard me yell, followed by a blaster shot, and then a flame where the book once was.”

“Oh, that’s quite the reaction,” you laugh as well, before glaring at the book across the room. “Please tell me there’s another one after that.”

“Oh, there is. There’s actually a whole series, that was only the beginning.”

“Really? Do you have them? Can I read them?”

“Why of course you can read them,” he chuckles, “they’re all in this room. But, I must ask, would you like a tour first?”

“Oh, right!” you say, jumping up from your spot. “I’d love a tour!”

“Follow me then, mesh’la,” he says, leading you from the room. As soon as he takes a few steps, he stops and motions to the door across the hall. “This is where my room is, so if you ever need anything, I’m close by. Fennec is all the way on the other side of the palace.”

“I guess she doesn’t like to be around you much,” you joke.

“Ah, Fennec is more of a ladies woman,” he says.

“So she is on a date with that girl!”

“Date? Girl?”

“Oh, right. She told me if she’s not back by dinner, to tell you that she’s out with ‘mesh’la’.”

“Ah, I see,” he says, before turning and asking, “she didn’t tell you that meant something else, did she?”

“No, she just seemed kind of confused that I said it meant friend, and asked me if you’d called me that before you told me what it meant.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I told her you did, and she just smirked. Why, does it mean something else?”

“No, I just don’t want her to tell you any lies,” Boba lies. Something about his reaction when he’d said it earlier, Fennec’s reaction, and his reaction now, was telling you that something was off, but you don’t push it. If he’s iding something, it’s probably best if you don’t pry.

“Right, back to the tour,” he says. “Down there is the medical room. There’s a bacta pod should you ever need it, though I hope you don’t. The first door before it is an office area, and then that’s all that’s down that way.” He leads you down the hall, to the main throne room where everything connects.

“Down that hall is where Fennec’s space is, I won’t go down there, as I don’t want to intrude. But, should she invite you, you’re more than welcome to go down there,” he says. He leads you to another hall, one you went down with Fennec earlier.

“This is the kitchen and dining area,” he says, stepping into the room. “Kriff, have you eaten anything today?”

“I made lunch with Fennec earlier,” you say, and he turns to look at you.

“You made lunch with Fennec?”

“Yeah, we made one of her favorite childhood meals.”

“Huh, she never lets me cook with her,” he mumbles to himself. “Well, perhaps I should cook one of my favorite meals with you as well. Are you hungry?”

“Oh, now that you say it,” you say, a hand going to your stomach as you laugh. “I guess I was too deep in my reading to notice that, yes, I am.”

“Getting caught up in reading is always an amazing thing,” Boba says before heading into the kitchen. He looks around, grumbles, and removes his helmet.

“Ah, much better,” he says, turning to look at you. You fight to hold back the small gasp at his appearance. You weren’t expecting him to be as handsome as he is, and you quickly look away as to not stare.

“Oh, sorry, are you not okay with this?” he questions, reaching for his helmet.

“No no,” you say, looking back at him, a little heat coming to your cheeks. “I just, wasn’t expecting this.”

“Am I not as attractive as you pictured?” he jokes, but you sense that it’s a cover up of disappointment.

“Oh, no! No that’s not it! You’re very handsome-I mean, well, like…” you scramble out, more embarrassment washing over you. You take a deep breath, settling your mind for a second.

“You are a handsome man, I just was not expecting you to be comfortable enough with me to reveal your identity.”

“Little one,” he says, reaching out and touching your chin lightly with his finger to make you look at him again. “I am more comfortable with you than you know. I wouldn’t have offered you a home if I wasn’t. And besides, I’m not going to wear my helmet all the time in my own palace.” You laugh with him at that, and nod your head.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“Now, shall we start cooking?”

You and Boba end up having a little bit too much fun while cooking. What starts as a simple little cooking lesson turns into a mess. You both laugh as you have a slight food fight with the ingredients, covering the kitchen with different spices and powders. When you’re finally finished messing around, the meal is done. Boba takes you to the room you had waited in before, sitting at the small table.

“I feel weird using a big table if there’s not that many people,” he says, motioning for you to sit as well.

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird,” you agree. You quietly eat in peace, enjoying your meal and each other’s company. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, as his gaze looks distant whenever you look at him. However, you don’t notice that when you’re not looking, he’s looking at you. He finishes showing you the palace when you’re done, and gives you a few refresher supplies to clean yourself up from earlier. When you’re done washing up, Fennec’s back and she and Boba are talking in the throne room. You wander in, but instantly feel as though you’ve interrupted something important. You try to slip away unnoticed, but Boba stops you.

“Was there something you needed, little one?” he says, and you pause and turn.

“Oh, no…I was just coming to thank you guys again, for taking me in and treating me so kindly. I’m…surprised at your graciousness, and very appreciative.”

“Of course, mesh’la. And no need to thank us, we are more than happy to let you stay.”

“Some of us more than others,” Fennec mumbles as she smirks, and Boba grunts quietly to her.

“Well, thank you again. I’m going off to bed now, have a lovely night.”

“And you as well,” Boba says.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Fennec adds before you smile and walk away. Once you’re one Fennec smirks to Boba.

“You’re not very smooth, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Boba defends.

“Oh, please. ‘Mesh’la means friend.’ We both know that was a cover up.”

“I’m just a bit out of practice, that’s all.”

“Who was the last person you even dated? Was it Lando?”

“Hush, we don’t speak that name.”

“You, Lando, and Han with your little love triangle. It’s cute. But not as cute as you trying to flirt with y/n.”

“I'm not trying, I am,” Boba says.

“Very badly,” Fennec mumbles before they continue the conversation you had interrupted.

When you’re alone in your room, you can’t help but feel as though today couldn’t have possibly happened. You’re afraid to close your eyes, as you fear that you’ll wake up from this dream. The Boba Fett, and the Fennec Shand had invited you to stay with them, offered you their protection, and offered to give you money to work for them. This was beyond bizarre, but you were beyond grateful for them.

*please inform me if I made any mistakes that include giving the reader a specific gender in case I missed in my proofread

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Tag List! Use this Tag List Form if you would like to be added! @imabeautifulbutterfly @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @tacticalsparkles @namesmox @crosshairxs @milppa @techssexythighs @paige6768 @lightning-wolffe @ilikemymendarkandfictional @megafrost4 @darkangel4121 @hedahobbit98 @shuttlelauncher81 @rintheemolion @sleepy-tog @littlemisscare-all @nahoney22 @ladykatakuri @that-one-weeb-but-starwars @maygalodon @rain-on-kamino @shadowwing1324 @salaminus

#star wars #boba fett #the book of boba fett #book of boba fett #bobf #tbobf #fennec shand #temuera morrison #ming na wen #boba fett x reader #boba fett fan fiction #jinn the storyteller🤍🤍#boba fett x male reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x gender neutral reader

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fruity-arsonist · 3 years ago

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MOMMY? SORRY, MOMMY? SORRY, MOMMY-

I refuse to believe Ming-Na Wen is 58 because she looks too young for her age

Deadass thought she was in her early 30's

Anyway can someone write a Fennec x M!Reader fic where the reader is a bratty bottom? I have money. A lot of it. Write it please-

#fennec shand #ming na wen #the book of boba fett #book of boba fett #bobf #tbobf #ming-na wen my love #fennec shand x male reader #fennec shand x reader #fennec shand x you #fennec shand x m!reader #fennec shand my beloved

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t14s23 · 3 years ago

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By Creed or By Code

A Star Wars Mandalorian Fanfiction

Born in 30 BBY, Kia Starflier was a youngling at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant when Order 66 was executed. Once she escaped the chaos of the deadly purge, she gets rescued by a Mandalorian and is raised as a foundling.

Years later, she becomes the second Mandalorian in history to be given the title of Jedi Knight. While working alongside Master Luke Skywalker, she is appointed to aide Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, with the conflicts of installing a new ruler on Mandalore.

My prediction for season three of The Mandalorian. It’ll be canon compliant for the most part, but I am planning on adding a slight canon divergence.

Starts off with The Book of Boba Fett Show: Season 1 Episodes 5 - 7

Din Djarin x Original Female Character

*Readers Over 18 Years Old Only Please!

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thefact0rygirl · 3 years ago

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EVERYTHING YOU WANT

{masterlist}

Pairing: Boba Fett x Male!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: voyeurism, masturbation, light edging, anal play, anal sex

A/N: a couple of ya’ll mentioned wanting to see some more boba x male!reader, sooooo here we go! fair warning, this is my first time writing for a male!reader, please be kind 🥺 but also i’m open to any feedback you may have and are comfortable sharing!

“What do you want?”

You’re too exposed like this, propped up with pillows pilled at your back and another lodged under your ass. You wish you could sink down into the bed, but you have no choice but the face the rest of the sprawling room. No choice but to see the other person in the room. That is kind of the point, after all.

You can leave if you want, he would never stop you. But you don’t. There is not a single rope or binder in sight, and yet you remain tethered to the bed by the weight of your own desire. You know it, and he knows it, too.

“Well?”

You burn when you meet his gaze. The moonlight casts blue-tinted shadows along the bed, the floor, and of course, the man sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Watching you.

His eyes stand out even in pitch darkness. It’s not necessarily because of the color, but the intensity behind the dark brown, so striking it can cut through the thickest gloom. And it isn’t ice that prickles along your skin as they pass over you. It isn’t ice that fill your veins and swells in your belly.

It’s heat. Warmth that makes it a struggle to speak as a wave of it surges through you, ��Y—you.”

He tilts his head, expectant. Your cheeks burn as you speak again, this time firming your voice until it’s steady, “You. Boba.”

His shoulders roll back as he settles into the chair, muscles shifting beneath his armor as he spreads his legs out wide. He sits cool and indifferent, the picture of composure and effortless gaze as his fingers trails across his belly.

“Are you certain of that?” He asks, one thick eyebrow raised as he reads you. He’s always been good at that, reading you and your body — the subtle trembling of your legs, the twist of your fingers, and the jerk of your gaze when his own becomes too much to bear. “It doesn’t seem that way.”

He’s teasing you, he already knows the truth of your words from every twitch of your body. You’re incapable of hiding it.

“Show me.”

His expression gives nothing away. Your cock is throbbing between your legs, begging for attention as warmth soaks into your blood, “I — You want me to —”

He doesn’t bother with a verbal reply, just a simple nod. He doesn’t say if he’ll give you what you want if you follow through, but you still readjust yourself, sinking back into the pillows, shaking with bleeding desire to see what, if anything, Boba will do.

Nothing.

He merely watches, his presence too overwhelming to watch, but you still catch it — the soft hum of approval and the slightest shifting of fabric as he leans forward again. It’s barely noticeable, and yet it sets your pulse racing.

Pushing aside your reservations, you allow one of your hands to wrap around your shaft, still slick from the lube you used earlier. The contact makes you shudder, your thighs spreading open for him to see the very obvious sign of your lust. You begin, your ministrations satisfy the heat boiling in your blood well enough. It’s not the same as if his hands were working you, but it’s enough for you to thumb the top of your shaft and stroking the sensitive sides.

While rubbing up and down over the tightening, slick skin, your other hand moves further down until you reach the tight rim of muscle. Your inner thighs are soaked, a combination of sweat, lube, and a bit of precum, as you slide your first finger in easily enough, the barest of friction against your own tight flesh makes your breath hitch. You continue pumping your cock while using slow and steady curls of your finger to reach your prostate. The wet slap of your ministrations is soon audible, mingling with heavy breaths and occasional whimpers as you make your body sing.

All while Boba watches in silence, eyes trained uneasily on you and your movements. It’s easier that way, easier with his gaze fixed on where your fingers disappear into your body rather than focused on your face. Easier, because you can watch the way his pupils blow out as you twist one finger, then two, and finally three into you. It’s easier to watch the way his shoulders shift as your hand squeezes the head of your cock with every pump. Easier to watch the way his lips twitch when you moan his name.

Heat builds in your belly as your hands pick up speed. The wet slap of akin against skin becomes louder. It’s hard to keep your eyes open, to resist the urge to tilt your head back and keep moving until you find release — release that is hovering just out of reach, close enough to grasp —

“Stop.”

You groan at the command, blinking rapidly to clear the sweat from your eyes. Your hands pause between your legs, but remain wrapped tightly around the wet-aching flesh.

“What?”

He rises from the chair, his hands moving to his chest plate. You watch him undo the first strap, then the second, and finally the third as he approaches the bed. Your fingers twitch when he sets the plate down before coming up on the plush mattress to settle between your legs.

You whimper at the heat of him, the closeness of him. After nothing but your own touch and the coolness of the sheets around you, his presence is overwhelming. His scent washes over you, the soft woodsy traces of him stroking the fire in your blood. His eyes are all consuming, his gaze awash with something you can only describe as hunger, and you richest heaves his hips slot between your thighs.

Maker, he is beautiful. Even after enduring the acidic burn of the sarlacc and the unforgiving Tatooine suns, his beauty punches the air out of your lungs. Your voice cracks over the syllables of his name as his eyes narrow, slits of brown peering down at you. As he leans down, your own eyes shut as his lips press against yours, overwhelmed by the sensation of his lips softening against yours, the flicker of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, and the sting of his teeth against your bottom lip.

You feel surrounded, devoured, and you still want more. Your hands shake as you reach between your bodies, blindly seeking the zip of his trousers, and you whimper in relief as his joiners join yours. Fabric parts and then there is nothing but hard, hot flesh and Boba’s soft hum as you wrap your fingers around him, your heels ticking against his thighs as you lift your hips up even more for him to line himself up.

Nothing prepares you for the heat of him sinking inside you. It’s like the first time all over again, that same heady rush as your flesh parts for his, the same muffled whine escaping your lips as his cock fills you. Your arms wrap around his waist, your fingers clench fistfuls of his tunic as he slowly sinks in, and you try to muffle your breathing, straining your ears, wanting to hear it —

“Ohhh, Maker.”

There. Right fucking there.

Beyond the slick sounds of your mouths meeting and the faint creaking of the mattress, you hear it. Hear him. A deep, rumbling groan of your name. It births from the depths of his throat as his length sinks fully inside of you, every inch of him encased in your heat. He groans again, and again, the beautiful, gritty sounds ripped from him, uncontrolled, and all because of you. It reignites your desire, never failing to set you aflame in happy contentment as he begins thrusting into you. His hand wraps around your cock and starts pumping in time with his thrusts.

Finally, you have exactly what you want.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x male!reader #boba fett #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #the book of boba fett #tbobf #book of boba fett #bobf #vee writes

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anaccountnolongerused · 3 years ago

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!!!THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

WATCHING EPISODE FIVE RIGHT NOW AND DIN WALKS ON SCREEN?! HOLY FUCK MAN?! THAT'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE RIGHT THERE!

AFTER I GET AHEAD ON REQUESTS I'M WRITING FOR DIN. IM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM.

#din djarin #the book of boba spoilers #the book of boba fett #spoilers #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolarian #din!#fanfiction #male reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 years ago

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Riduur

Boba Fett x Mandalorian Male reader X Din Djarin

Two uploads in a day, as a treat .3.

The reader is Mandalorian, because I love mandos. I have ideas for their armor colour, but you can always imagine something else. The reader’s armor is Grey (Mourning a lost love or family member), Black (Justice) and Brown (Valor). I imagine he is taller and buffer than both Boba and Din, something like Paz :)

I haven’t watched a book of boba Fett yet, so I’m going off of what I’ve learned from other writing :P

I didn’t feel like really using a lot of Mandalorian in this one.

The paragraphs became super long in this, i apologise.

Requests are open, especially if its star wars. I write for a good chunk of male characters, but my all time favorite of are any mandos and the clones :).

Translation for the little mando I used

Riduur – life partner, romantic partner, spouse

Beroya – Bountyhunter

Beskar´gam – Mandalorian armor

Buy´ce – helmet

Vod – brother, sister, comrade

Buir – parent

Beskar – a precious metal to mandalorians

Cyara – beloved

Life had gotten much more manageable for (Y/N) in the past three years or so. He didn’t have a covert to look out for anymore, which still caused horrible pain in his chest to think about, but he had a stable job and place to call home. He even had two riduur, whom he had met not long after leaving his covert on his last trip as beroya.

It started with him getting a message from contacts that mandalorians were setting up on Tatooine of all places. He had promised his armorer to search out other mandalorians, so he decided to land and meet them. If they were deathwatch appearing again, it would be bad. But when he landed, he was greeted not by the blue of deathwatch, but by someone in a green beskar´gam and one in unpainted beskar´gam.

They seemed very weary until you stepped out of your one-man ship. The one in the unpainted armor seemed to relax maginally after seeing your own armor, in its black and brown colours. Yet the shorter of the two still seemed tense as you approached. You called out a greeting in your native tongue, and the silver Mandalorian met you half way, clasping your hands in a greeting.

He introduced himself as Mando, explaining that his covert believed in keeping their names and face secret from any outsiders. You nodded in understanding. You had covert members who were the same. After the purging it was best to stay hidden, they said. That your secrecy was your best weapon.

You nodded, introducing yourself in return. You were grinning under your buy´ce, filled with excitement at meeting another Mandalorian who in returned looked as excited as yourself. The green wearing mando, who had been slowly untensing, tensed back up at the mention of your last name. After talking with Mando, he brought you over to his friend, who you assumed was his riduur but you decided not to comment on it.

His name was Boba Fett, and of course you knew who he was. He was legendary amongst beroya, and you almost wanted to dance on the spot at the fact that you got to meet him. You happily introduced yourself again, but he seemed almost cold in reply. Even as you were invited inside, Boba seemed on edge with you, or weary in some way, as he would never truly take his eyes off of you.

The two mandalorians invited you to join them for dinner, which you happily accepted. You had wanted to offer helping in cooking the meal, but apparently Boba had someone to do it for him, so the three of you ended up sitting around the table swapping stories. Well, it was mainly you as Mando didn’t seem to be much of a talker, and Boba was still giving you a chilly shoulder.

It was in these stories Mando learned you were from a covert too, and the two of you started talking in earnest, going over how you were raised, your vod, and how you were both beroya. It was then you learned Din had lost his covert, and the pain in his voice made your own heart ache. You tried your best in comforting him, letting him know that they were not dead, simply marching onwards. Din appeared thankful, but spoke little for a good while, which you understood greatly. Boba seemed to become less and less tense as you spoke of your covert, like he was realizing something.

As food arrived, you pulled your buy´ce off, placing it on a clear spot on the table. Din seemed shocked as you revealed your face, whilst Boba just seemed interested in taking in your features. You became flustered, asking if you had been impolite in removing it so. Boba laughed slightly, letting you know that no, you hadn’t been rude, it was simply that Mando never removed his own helmet because of how he was raised amongst the covert.

You tried to apologize to Mando, not wanting to have made him uncomfortable. He waved it off, letting you know he had gotten used to seeing other mandalorians without helmets. As you ate you ended up talking with Boba, who asked about your clan. You were ashamed to say you didn’t know much about it. Just that they had been true Mandalorians, and most had fallen in the battle of Galidraan. Only few lived, and they had been lost in the purging. Leaving only, you and your buir.

Boba seemed to relax fully at that. He ended up telling you about his father, and how he thought your clan had left everyone else behind in the end, as the clan had been one of the largest and most powerful back in the day. Din and yourself both muttered a small prayer at the thought of all those lost. As the gloomy air lifted slightly, the conversation switched to something else and the three of you started talking about all and everything. You found out you had much in common, and similar opinions on many things.

When the morning came you were sad to go, but they passed you their comm numbers, and you passed them your own. With one last goodbye, you were on your way. During the ride back to your covert you did you best to stomp down the bubbling warmth in your chest as thoughts of the two mandalorians flooded your mind. It wasn’t right, to feel for two who you were sure were already together, especially when they had not expressed interest in a third.

Time passed as it normally did. You continued your bounty hunting, and kept in contact with the two intriguing mandalorians who had started to take up major space in your heart. Along the way you learned that Mandos name was Din. Din Djarin. You learned he had a foundling named Grogu, who had jedi magic and was learning how to control his powers. You learned much from Boba aswell, from his life story to how he survived a sarlacc, and somehow the two of you ended up talking about his aches and pains he dealt with. As a joke you shipped in a gel from one of the planets you visited, that apparently would cure said aches.

It was on one of these days that you returned to your covert only to see it up in smoke. It was ransacked and the few people you could see around were dead. Beroya training overtook your mind, and you went around taking down the people who had attacked the covert. Some had already left, but these were still around. They didn’t seem to be with the remnants of the empire, or the new republic, not even pirates as they hadn’t taken the beskar that bodies were still wearing.

You were in shock for a long time. Putting out the fires and saving what few items you could. The few things you could save were mainly items made from Beskar or other metals. You took the armor from the few covert members who ever gained it, and put it away for the future generation as you had been taught to do. You spent days burying them, and paying your respect. You went above and beyond to make sure the area looked unlived in, making sure no one knew mandalorians had lived here. No one could know, our secrecy is our safety as your armorer would say.

After weeks of this, you had finally finished and found yourself on your now packed ship. You didn’t even really pay attention where you set the navigation of the ship too, as you started sobbing in your seat after ripping your buy´ce off. You cried for what felt like hours, and finally passed out after days of zero sleep.

When you finally came too, it was because someone was softly shaking your shoulder. The beroya training in the back of your mind was screaming to get up and fight the threat, but you were too exhausted and wrung out. You were finally pulled to your feet and pulled out of the ship, the bright sun of Tatooine meeting you and the wind carrying sand around striking your face. You must have set the coordinates to the one place you felt you could go.

Glancing over you saw Din supporting your dead weight, as he brought you inside of Boba’s palace. The place was much cleaner and organized since your last visit. It now looked like it was Boba’s and not just a place he had stolen from the last sucker that ran it. It seemed today was slow, as Boba appeared bored out of his mind on his throne. When Din entered the room, supporting your large frame as you yourself couldn’t walk, the ruler of Tatooine was quick on his feet though you knew it must have hurt his knees and back.

From his expression you know you must have been a mess, spending the last few weeks digging through ash and dirt to access what was left of your covert, your family. Boba rushed over and supported your other side, the shortest of your bunch shooting a look at Din as if to ask what happened. As they took you back to their part of the castle, you saw Fennec take over in Boba’s stead.

The two mandalorians brought you back to the room you had borrowed the night you stayed there. It didn’t look much like a guest room anymore, as you saw books and trinkets that you had mentioned you enjoyed in some of your many talks. “What happened?” Din finally asked, taking in you soot, and dirt covered beskar, and the puffy redness around your eyes from your crying. Boba nodded, as if he wanted to know the same.

Your eyes landed on your hands that were in your lap, words not wanting to form. It bubbled up inside of you, but you didn’t know how to express it, you couldn’t form any sentences that could explain your pain and grief. Seeing your troubles, Boba was the first to sit down beside you and wrap his arm around you, Din soon following leading to a hug from the both of them. In their arms you finally sobbed, the gut wrenching noise escaping you as you grasped at your hair, choking out what you had seen, what you’d been doing for the past two weeks and how lost you felt.

The pained noise from Din made it known he also knew how you felt, losing your family and only home. It took much time, but when you had finished your story and stopped crying, Boba made it clear you were allowed to stay as long as you wished, that they had made this room specifically for you and that they cared for you. Din nodded along, grasping your hand to ground you as he explained it had helped him in his grief to have someone with him.

Time passed and you stayed with the duo, the three of you growing closer and closer. In the beginning your grief was too heavy to feel anything else. But as it lessened you started to notice the fluttering in your chest return. It was when Boba brought you a tin of grey paint for your beskar´gam, that you could finally understand what the feeling was. You spent the rest of the night painting your beskar´gam, thinking about these feelings and how it wasn’t just for one, but both of them.

At some point you were feeling good enough to continue bounty hunting. First it had just been on Tatooine, but soon it spread to the rest of the outer rim. You had found a home on Tatooine, meaning you always had somewhere to return too. It made you feel warm and whole at the knowledge that the two mandos expected you to return to them. It only made it better that they had started to become more and more openly affectionate with you. Of course it was mainly Boba, as Din himself was quite shy with physical affection and alike, but he made up with it in how much he cared. The three of you had never sat down and talked about your relationship, and that was fine with you, even though it left an empty ache in your heart.

After one of your many beroya trips, you had gotten shot in a dangerous area, and almost blown up. You did your best to patch yourself up on the way back to Tatooine as you didn’t want Din or Boba to worry. When you finally landed on the sand planet, you were seeing black spots from blood loss.

You staggered into the castle through one of the back doors, stumbling towards your room in hopes of sleeping off the pain. It was then that you passed out, the clunk of your beskar´gam striking the floor the only sound in the hallway, as a small puddle of blood gathered around you.

That was how Din found you, who quickly dragged you off to the castles medbay, where one of the medical trained people took care of you. When Boba heard news of what happened, he wrapped up his work for the day and made his way to the medbay.

There the two sat, nervous and uncomfortable at the situation you had put yourself in. When night fell, the medical staff had left, leaving only Boba and Din by your side. Finally, you woke up, your brows scrunching together at the painful headache you were assaulted by. Forcing your eyes open, you saw a roof and as you turned your head the two men you had fallen in love with.

Boba seemed to be the only one awake, as he was sitting and reading a book, as Din was slumped against the wall behind him. When he saw you were awake he shut the book with a snap, causing Din to wake up. As you forced yourself up you apologized for the trouble, making Boba scoff. “Your wellbeing isn’t trouble (Y/N)” he grumbled, placing the book down on a nearby table.

“You need to take better care of yourself (Y/N)” Din said, getting to his feet and walking over to stand near you. “We don’t want to lose you” he followed up, reaching down to take your hand. You felt hot in the face and Boba followed, standing on your other side and taking your other hand. “We want you to come back to us cyara” Boba said, his voice soft and full of soft emotions that made your heart race.

As you fumbled for words, the older leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You stuttered as he pulled back, not noticing Din remove his helmet. It was first when the taller of the two kissed you as well, that you realized what happened. You wanted to bury your face in the blankets, but the two just laughed and pulled it away as they, mainly Din, peppered you with kisses and Boba said the gooiest sweetest words.

The next morning the three of you sat in your personal kitchen. You had spoken the marriage vow the night before after talking for long about your feelings, and their feelings for you. You exhaled a breath and relaxed back in your seat, as Boba cooked breakfast and Din was polishing his buy´ce. You kept looking at him, taking in his face and adding it to your memory forever. When he looked up at you, you grinned at him which caused him to blush faintly. Boba soon joined the two of you, placing the food in the middle of the table and leaning over to kiss Din and yourself. “Dig in. We have a lot planned for today” he chuckled, his smirk growing as Din sputtered at the thoughts that went through his head. Maybe this married life wasn’t so bad.

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