#daimyos

[martialartslover7]

As a follow-up to those two headcanon parters of mine, Part 1 and Part 2, here is how the anime OP would look like, in regards to the Blank Period story arc, where Naruto starts an entire revolt against the Daimyos, with all the five Kage and his friends backing him.

Replace Yugi with Naruto, Kaiba with Sasuke, Joey with Sakura, and Tea with Hinata, who sees Naruto twice, on one half his cheerful, heroic self, but the other one casted in darkness, with an empty, threatening stare, implying dark times await him. And the villains at the end:

Raphael - Toneri (fuck Otsutsukis, he is a Hyuga, DON'T. EVEN. TRY. TO. CORRECT. ME.)

Alister - Kabuto

Valon - Menma (he is the secret weapon, provided by Orochimaru, that the Daimyos unleash to try and ruin Naruto's public image, and killing everyone, who ever supported him. All in an effort to break him on every conceivable level.)

Dartz - Orochimaru

With the looming shadows of the five major Daimyos in the background.

Also, it's a heartwarming imagery by having Naruto walk past Sasuke, and they grin at each other in approval, like how it happened between Yugi and Joey. Letting us know, this time, Sasuke is fighting with them, not against them.

Peace.

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Ones hands can tell the story of how they’ve lived… and how far they have come.

I’m a sucker for Good Dad Splinter ever since I watched TMNT ‘03. That rat was gifted sapience and his immediate instinct was kindness. I love that for him.

Rise Splinter lived a rollercoaster of a life, but as a Hollywood star he remembered the names of all his stunt guys and coworkers, and as a prisoner he cared for the rat that shared his cell. His sons are very close and physically affectionate, I think that says something about how he cares? That’s just how I like to headcanon him :)

It’s interesting to explore the idea that a seemingly monstrous transformation is what pushed him to be a kinder human

[tanuki-kimono]

Muted lavender ground for this summer kimono showing a cute insects procession (mimicing a daimyo gyoretsu) among late summer/early autumn plants (hagi/bushclover, and kikyo/Chinese belflower)

[lalunanymph]

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 — part of the bewitched universe

"if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more"

as an arranged marriage to a woman he doesn’t want looms over him, gojo satoru resolves to seize control of his destiny by marrying the very first woman he sees—a disgraced aristocrat from an enemy family who happens to be mute. as political ties unravel, will this ruse succeed or ultimately cost him his life? 

warnings: forced marriage, fake marriage, historical au, daimyo!gojo, disgraced princess!reader, mute!reader, trauma, a/buse, heavy tones of cheating, reader is coded to be feminine, HEAVY ANGST, political drama, mentions of war, canon typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol, mentions of r/ape, non-con -> dub-con, repressed feelings, mentions of babies, mentions of war, explicit smut, breeding, enemies to lovers, slow burn, more tba....

i. PROLOGUE

ii. THE DISGRACED DAUGHTER

iii. HEIRLOOM

iv. THE BRIGHTEST BLUE

more tba ....

the daimyo and his disgraced one (playlist) | old entangled masterlist

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[leylinefount]

Fan design

[digitalpokemonsterhunter]

Tiny Daimyo Hermitaur

[filmkatt]

The Erotomaniac Daimyo (1972)

Norifumi Suzuki

[tmntkiseki]

One favorite line/exchange from every Season 2 episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2003)

(Season 1)

[rarepears]

Give me Naruto warring state era fic where the new daimyo of Fire (or should we make him shogun?) is Luo Bingge complete with advisor and wife Shen Yuan that had been kidnapped from the modern era.

Now we got the paranoid ninja clans who quickly become aware of their new ruler's ability to teleport, the dangers of ingesting his blood, his regeneration skills... and naturally some shinobi (Madara) find themselves in a position where they believe they must have the daimyo's ability (if the daimyo can regenerate a whole limb just by forcing his blood into other people then healing Izuna's wounds-??)

[cobbssecondbelt]

Is it too much to ask for Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett standing side by side

[hiromusicarts-blog]

皆さん今日もお疲れ様でした。

深夜の指定席付近から、こんばんは^^

今夜は、２年ほど先に収録される作品のリファイン（再編集）を、、、、

オヤスミナサイ Good night

Daimyo(part)

未発表、未収録の音源

[acatalystrising]

I had to make it. Had to.

I mean…🥰🫠

[tanuki-kimono]

Early autumn outfit with matching insect-themed kimono and obi.

The obi has mushi gyôretsu (insect procession, mimicking old-timey daimyo-gyoretsu), while the kimono shows crickets in dewy grass.

I love the opened hozuki (ground cherry/physalis) obidome!

[lalunanymph]

i. PROLOGUE

as an arranged marriage to a woman he doesn’t want looms over him, gojo satoru resolves to seize control of his destiny by marrying the very first woman he sees—a disgraced aristocrat from an enemy family who happens to be mute. as political ties unravel, will this ruse succeed or ultimately cost him his life? 

warnings: mentions of injuries, war, captives, mentions of alcohol, o/ral s/ex, mentions of death, misogyny, forced marriage, p/rostitution, MDNI

masterlist 🧵 playlist

Gojo Satoru was a Lord not in need of a wife.

Arrogant and hubristic, he led life as a fool—simple, filled with pleasure and lacking no responsibility.

As such, brothels, handmaids and ruining aristocratic ladies were all his favorite pastimes. 

In this very moment, his vices were no different. 

The scion to the Gojo clan, a man with white hair and cerulean blue eyes the exact hue of the sea from which his family’s sustenance derives from, flickered them onto the woman poised between his thighs. 

She was a whore or some other, hired for pleasure and a respite from the thoughts whirling in his mind. He barely paid her lewd suckling and theatric moans any mind, sensing that it was done with the intent to gleam a bigger tip by the end of the night.

Rather, he sank back into the paltry futon, gaze towards the ceiling while she tongued his balls.

A question bubbled in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the edge of his tongue where he exhales it with little fanfare. 

“Do you believe in true love?”

The woman paused, and he almost laughed at the glimmer of uncertainty coruscating in her gaze. “I beg your pardon, my Lord?”

He recognized that barely-there look on her face, that one sliver of determination mingling with the throes of forced lust she made herself believe she carried for him, if not to ease her suffering for one night.

“I asked if you believed in true love?”

A beat of silence that was louder than the schlicking of her mouth bobbing up and down his length. He discovers a second too late that she wasn’t as pretty as the lighting made her out to be and waves her away. Recognizing that she was being dismissed, the whore stands and tightens her obi, bowing low to him.

“Shall I anticipate you for next week as well, Master Gojo?”

Reverent and demure. He senses it was not due to his status but the clanking of coins in his pouch which caught her attention like the darting of silverfish in a foggy lake. He removes a golden piece and tosses it to her, narrowly missing her eye as she scrambles to catch it clumsily with both hands.

“Same time,” he drawls and stands up, making himself decent once more. The whore bows low and he pulls back the den’s curtain, making his way to the front. He does not have to wander far to encounter the stench of disapproval that mingles with the heady curls of opium smoke in the air.

Right at the door, wearing a frown that gleamed as brightly as his ebony robes, was his right-hand man.

Geto Suguru eyes him with open disdain and Satoru grins, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You found me, Sugu.” Not appreciating his tone or the abbreviation of his name, Suguru snorted and motioned towards the front door.

“This is the last time I am saving you behind from your councilmen, Satoru,” he starts on his churlish tirade, one that the young lord had heard many, many times. “The gathering is in full swing. What will people say when their great Lord is missing?”

Satoru’s snort pierced through a drizzle that clung to the tips of his brilliant white locks. “Now you sound exactly like General Nanami, Sugu.” At the mention of the stoic, aloof, and often unsmiling samurai who had retired from his life of serving the Gojo clan to live safely in the hills, Suguru physically bristled.

“At least Nanami was paid to handle your foolish ass.” Geto sighs, pinching his brow with his thumb and forefinger. “Come on. Let us go or else we will be late.”

Satoru strides to his great white steed, hauling himself over the stallion’s back. 

“Now, Sugu. You are being quite the downer tonight.”

Suguru sighs. “I cannot help it. Tonight is when the great Lord Kozume will sign over his district to be under the Gojo rule, is it not?” 

Despite his reckless approach to life, Satoru remains aware of his fief’s happenings, and this is an unprecedented event which marks a new chapter into his rule.

Kicking Mumu into a trot, Satoru sighs.

“Yes. And uncle will be there, too. No doubt trying to force my hand into taking a wife tonight.” 

At the mention of the great, stoic Michizane Gojo with his blustering white beard and piercing blue eyes trying to force his nephew to marry, Suguru chuckles.

“If there’s one thing your uncle is, it is consistent.”

“And annoying,” Satoru quips, already wishing he had not stopped that whore from making him cum. Maybe he would feel more relaxed by now. 

His mind drifts, and he recalls everything that has happened to make today one for the history annals.

A messenger stumbles in, covered head to toe in blood. 

He’s unannounced, and Gojo has his katana out, ready for the first sign of danger and betrayal from any man. 

But, the grisly older warrior does not flourish his sword; he sinks to his knees, holding his bleeding abdomen and a crumpled piece of paper in his trembling hand. 

“My Lord,” he gasps and flourishes the scroll for his liege to take it. 

Gojo immediately stands, any trace of his defensiveness melting off like frost when he unravels the scroll with shaky hands. His eyes widened. The enemy camps from beyond his threshold suddenly become like toys in his hands; easy to grasp and smash. 

“They have surrendered,” he breathes out. The messenger curls his forehead to the floor, nearly sobbing. 

“Long live your rule, Gojo-sama,” he tolls, loudly enough for his generals to come rushing into his war camp. Suguru is the first to grab the scroll from Satoru’s hand, and he too, is rendered silent from the sudden shift in their fates.

“Unbelievable,” the dark-haired general swears. 

His second peers over the Lord’s great shoulders and gasps. 

“Nagamachi has fallen,” Satoru announces through trembling lips. He turns to his men, his most loyal followers and who never once doubted his ability to expand the Gojo empire.

“We can all go home.”

Puddles of liquor and puke scatter on the tatami floors, and Satoru wrinkles his nose in disgust when he approaches the dais.

The men of his army could celebrate as well as they held a fight; brazenly crying out his name in exuberance and clinking their sake glasses together. 

To Satoru! They cried. May his reign be ever long and prosperous! 

Gojo takes his position on the dais, and reclines, accepting a cup of sake from one of his generals. 

The man wears a smile so big, Gojo wonders how it doesn’t split his face.

“Your uncle is not yet here,” Suguru informs, taking a seat next to him and picking up a cup of the sweet, fermented alcohol to sip on. The fumes burn his nose and he frowns, not liking the taste. 

Suguru has always been the more uptight between the two of them; where Satoru indulges, his friend restrains. Satoru reacts, Suguru observes. 

Tonight, Suguru is his eyes and ears, peeling his attention around the room. Though merry men were no threat, the danger has not yet subsided. 

These Nagamachi warriors could turn on them anytime; the frail peace treaty ending in blood. 

Satoru leans back, and pretends to look interested in this turn of events. However, the second he hears the drums announcing his uncle’s arrival, he straightens.

Michizane Gojo is a man with a love for theatrics. His torture methods insane, his court a fester of troublemakers and violent men. Though he disagrees with his uncle’s rule, he cannot overturn it—Michizane holds an army of men three times his own and could destroy his part of the fief with a flick of his finger.

Tall, and with an imposing air that would make the harshest samurai tremble, Michizane strides into the drawing room.  And he is not alone. 

Head down, hand in cuffs and trudging behind him, the leader of the Nagamachi warriors wears a blackened eye and bruised cheeks. The gathering is free of women and children, so the men could indulge in cruelty till the morning sun rose. However, a slighter figure behind the man catches his eye, and Gojo feels a curdling disgust rising inside of his chest.

Gojo understands that in this world of wars and conquering, one has to respect whoever is at the top. But, if it were not for the fact that this man was his uncle, Satoru would have ordered his men to drag him out, respect for the elderly be damned.

Because there is nothing respectable about what he sees right in front of him now. 

A young lady with her wrists bound follows behind the man, and unlike the other captive, her head is high, features turned obstinately to the light so every man could witness her disdain. She’s the sole woman here in this room, and the sight of her rouses every man—bloodhounds seeking to tear an injured bird apart.

Satoru stands and feels Geto stiffening beside him.

“Monster,” his friend whispers under his breath. Gojo has to agree.

The woman is shoved to her knees while the men remain standing. Her yukata, once a sign of her wealth and prosperity, is torn and with mud at the hem. If he looks closer, he can see her clenching her trembling hands, turning them to fists in front of her.

“Nephew,” Michizane stretches out his arms and Gojo reluctantly steps forward, receiving his uncle with a tight hug. “You are alive and have conquered the mountains. How proud I am of you.”

Gojo grits his teeth, finding the smell of opium and sake wafting off his uncle repulsive. 

Masking on a smile, he nods. “Thank you, uncle. Your support means everything to me under these circumstances.”

Standing at close to six feet, the old, wizened man was no different from his whorehound of a brother—Satoru’s father. Women of all ages were not exempted from his list of atrocious taste, lending to his fearsome reputation. 

Michizane bellows a laugh and gestures to the captives. “Why, I had a great time speaking to Lord Kozume. Or, shall I call him Kozume from now on.” Laughing at his own joke, the rest of the room chuckles, taking a leaf from his exuberance. Following suit, Gojo exhales a small laugh. 

“It seems you have done so, uncle.”

The great lord slaps a hand to his fat belly, chuckling to himself. “Well, what shall it be tonight? An execution? A wedding? A fight?” 

Always prepared for the worst, Gojo tries to steer the situation back into safer waters. There will be no more bloodshed for the foreseeable future; he was done smelling like the rusted tang for days on end. 

“Perhaps, a discussion,” he entreats. His uncle snorts, but indulges in his nephew’s whims, signalling for his men to cut through the ropes binding Lord Kozume and the woman. She curls into a ball the second her hands are free, forehead pressed to the floor, begging for mercy.

Kozume is far more prouder than her, and sits rigid, shaking his head when a cup is offered to him.

“No. I wish to be level-headed.” His voice is deep and low; commanding yet kind. The voice of a leader. 

Gojo blinks and remembers Suguru is beside him. He gestures to the girl and his general needs no more cues. Going to her side, Geto snaps his fingers for a cup of water and receives it from a servant; pushes it into her quivering hands. She straightens, and it disturbs him how red-rimmed her eyes are, and yet, she sheds no tears. 

Kozume does not wait for his cue. He continues. “The Nagamachi lands are yours. The fiefs are now part of the great Gojo house and I humbly ask you to spare the lives of my daughter and mine.” 

Satoru slides his gaze to the girl again. 

The old man winces, as if he’s in pain, and reaches for his daughter, grabbing her by the shoulders. This close, Gojo can see the fear in her eyes, how the corners of her lips tremble. 

By no means was he a naive man to the horrors of war, but he never had to witness an innocent’s expression up close. Satoru almost feels like the walls are closing in on him, and he tries to look away. But, something about her draws his attention back and back again—like a red splash of paint on a white cloth he cannot possibly ignore.

“Fine,” Michizane seats himself on the dais, looking down on the father and daughter. “Let us resume our discussion now with the eyes of every Gojo ancestor looking down upon us.”

At his words, the girl glances up, gazing upon the tapestries depicting the heroes of his boyhood, splashing across the ceiling as they continue on their bloody conquest to raise the emperor’s mark across the southern lands. She sees the blood, the mangled bodies, and drops her gaze; too close to the truth for comfort.

“My nephew, Satoru, as you know, is the head of the Gojo clan after his father’s death two years ago. He is in need of a wife and I have picked one out for him. The great Lady Ayako from a noble family under our flag.” Michizane glances at the girl. “Though you promised me your daughter is fair of face and from great blood, that blood now comes at a cost and I will not be at peace if she is under our roof. Hence, I have decided to wed her off to Lieutenant Luaya, who is one of the most fiercely loyal men I know.”

Gojo has to stop himself from physically recoiling. Luaya is a brute and a devil. He catches sight of the mentioned man puffing his chest out, looking pleased to be bestowed a blessing by the great Lord Michizane. She will never survive a night with him, Satoru thinks. In fact, none of his wives had ever survived for long.

His uncle was sending her right to her early grave. 

As if sensing the change in the room, the young woman raises her head, and sees Luaya who’s smiling at her; the glint of his canine teeth bouncing off the light from the sconces overhead reminds him of a wolf scenting fresh meat.

Satoru does not know what overcomes him—he is barely a kind or empathetic man. But, the punishment for Lord Kozume’s rebellion is far too much. 

He would have to watch by the sidelines as his daughter gets murdered in cold blood and that is no fair compensation for a man who readily surrendered to their forces. This inhumane treatment of their subjects had to come to a stop—Gojo would no longer stand for such cruelty his father and uncle perpetuated.

“Luaya will do no such thing.” Every eye in the room is on him as Satoru stands, crossing his arms right in front of him. The cup of sake hovering close to his uncle’s lips stops in mid-motion.

Whatever trick Michizane expects his nephew to pull, it was not this. 

“I shall wed her—Lord Kozume’s daughter.”

Those piercing blue eyes land right on your shocked face, unwavering and resolute. 

“We will be wed tonight.”

a/n: 👀 i hope u guys loved this new revamp of entangled !! it came to me as inspo from my recent trip to kyoto and i had to continue the bewitched universe for my sanity's sake lol

also if u didn't know, this series was previously discontinued due to low interaction and feedback, so if u want to see how gojo and y/n's story play out, please do consider dropping some feedback or a reblog to help keep the inspo going <3

©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own. do not take elements from my story without prior permission.

[whattraintracks]

I'm thinking about siblings and sons and legacies again. Raph's "ugh, I sound like Leo" and Mikey's "my father taught me better than that" and Splinter's oft-repeated "he who lives without honor, ends without honor." I'm thinking about how Raph sounds like Leo and Donny and Mikey who sound like Master Splinter who sounds like Hamato Yoshi, and this legacy of what it means to have honor/be honorable/act honorably. Not as a teaching of ninjutsu but of the Hamato Clan. I'm thinking about how this family's legacy is one of teaching its sons about honor.

[merlincmgirl]

Armour Kink - Boba Fett x FReader - NSFW

Bonus!

Summary: While admiring the way Boba holds court as Daimyo on Tatooine, you can't help but fixate on how good Boba looks in his armour. Boba notices.

Characters: Boba, Fennec

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 8,394

Warnings: PinV sex, fingering, teasing, armour kink, thigh riding, armour riding, spanking a little?, throne sex, possessive Boba, bratting, King Boba! dirty talk, soft!dom Boba

Authour's Note: I love Boba, and I want to be on that throne with him.

Watching Boba hold court was always something you enjoyed. Not only because some of the people who came to speak with the Daimyo were interesting characters but because you were able to stare at Boba for as long as you’re liked and nobody would question it. Boba commanded attention when he sat on the throne. All eyes were drawn to him, people hung onto his every word, and nobody wanted to get on the bad side of him.

Boba radiated power.

From across the room, you couldn’t help but chuckle at a bounty hunter fawning over the Great Boba Fett. It would seem that it was wearing a bit thin as Fennec was reaching for her rifle. Draining your spotchka, you thanked the bartender before sitting at the back of the room, directly across from the throne. It was the prime spot for you to watch Boba and for him to watch you.

“Get on with it!” Boba snapped, the room quieting down at his tone. There was a nervous shift in the atmosphere but you couldn’t help but grin up at the green helmet. Boba was particularly impatient today it seemed.

It might have had something to do with the way you had teased him that morning. You had waited until the very last moment before he left to strike. Seeing him without his helmet on, that beautiful, stern and regal face combined with the bulky, Mandalorian armour had you wet between your legs. Instead of dealing with that, you had slipped from the cool sheets that covered you and stalked over to him.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you had pressed your naked body against his, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. As Boba had brought you round to his front, pressing a delightful kiss to your lips and promising he would see you later on today, you couldn’t help but misbehave. So you had deepened the kiss, pressing your breasts against the cool metal of beskar and rolled your hips up into his. The rough material of his flight suit had you letting out a groan into his mouth, hips seeking friction against your clit once more.

As he had groaned deeply into your kiss, hands dragging down your ribs, your stomach and your hips, scooping around your thighs, ready to carry you back to bed; you pulled away with a teasing smirk and wishing him a good day before heading into the refresher.

Part of you expected him to join you, to say kriff to his schedule and fuck you to oblivion in the refresher. But as you washed the suds out of your hair, you knew better than that. Boba was a man that prided himself on the control that he had over himself and others. So what better way to show you that than by walking away and carrying on with the rest of his day.

It had been frustrating, letting the heat of arousal that had been starting to build into a fire in your belly douse down into a gentle simmer. There was still plenty of time to get what you wanted.

A loud thud had you flinching, brought back to the present as 2 glasses of spotchka was suddenly in front of you. Looking up to your left, you realised Fennec was looking down at you with a suspicious look.

“What?” you asked your friend, wondering why she was looking at you like that. “What’s that look for?”

Fennec shook her head, collapsing into the seat next to you. “What did you do?” she finally asked, pouring both of you a drink.

Chuckling at her and putting on your best innocent expression, you sent her a grin. “What makes you think I’ve done anything?” you wondered, mischievous glint still in your eye.

“Boba has been in a mood all day. That normally happens when you’re playing with your food” the assassin remarked, making you laugh at that. Well, she certainly wasn’t wrong.

“Oh really? Can’t he just be in a mood? I am entirely innocent” you said, smirking around the glass of spotchka.

Fennec hummed, not believing a word that you said, and looked like she was going to call you out on your bullshit. “Nothing innocent about the way you’ve been looking at him all day” she retorted, before draining her glass and standing up. “Duty calls, Princess. If you could hurry this show along, I’d be grateful” she stated, glancing between you and Boba before going back up to her place by his throne, one hand always resting on her rifle.

Stifling your giggles at the way Fennec had caught onto your game, you turned back to the middle of the room where Boba was holding court. The way that he was spread out across the wide throne had your eyes focused on his crotch. The casual way he kept his body relaxed, yet ready to spring up at a moment’s notice to fight and attack. It had you feeling very grateful for the spotchka you were nursing. Your throat was feeling very dry all of a sudden.

The bounty hunter was asking permission to hunt for a quarry on Tatooine, not a necessary requirement, but it was done to show respect to Boba. The name of the most feared and brutal bounty hunter in the galaxy still carried a lot of weight and respect, and many up and coming bounty hunter would fawn all over him to try and get either favour or advice from him.

It seemed Boba was getting bored of this one and quickly agreed, sending him on his way with a warning not to cause trouble for the residents that were under his protection. You had to duck your head, hiding the smile that split across your face at that. Boba had such a kind and caring heart, he had really took the people of Mos Espa and those further a field under his wing.

As the court waited for the next visitor to come walking through the doors, Boba’s helmet twisted, searching for you, stopping and tilting when he saw you sitting on the bench near the front of him. Normally you kept yourself away from the court, or at least towards the back where you could spy and listen to the whispers of those around you without much noticed being taken. It was a useful thing too, you had heard a lot of loose lips whispering about information that you had then forwarded onto Boba. It also allowed you to keep out of the public eye, not drawing too much attention to yourself. If something was to happen and you were taken hostage, you knew how to defend yourself, but Boba would be infuriated at anyone hurting his riddur.

Boba must have been checking in on you because he gave a small insusceptible nod to you before focusing on the Trandoshan bounty hunter that was walking down to meet with him.

Relaxing back into the seat, you shifted slightly to widen your legs, knowing that he was getting a glimpse of your pants. His head snapped in your direction for only a moment before his attention seemed to shift to the bounty hunter as he stepped out in front of him. You couldn’t help but drag your gaze up from the armour coving his shins, to the knee pads that could shoot rocket darts out of. Working your way up his thick, powerful thighs that, though baggy, was clear to see through his black flight suit underneath. You could just imagine how he would feel pressed against you, letting you ride his strong, thick muscles until you came just from that.

Feeling a bit breathless, you raised your eyes further up, biting your lip as you stared at Boba’s crotch. There was a slight bulge, not because he was hard, but he was just so damn big. You had spent many of a time just sitting in his lap, feeling that press against you as he touched you, whispering filth into your ears. Stars! You wished you could feel him now. Just imagining him pulling you back against his chest, spreading your legs over the arms of the throne and exposing you to the room. The way his fingers would feel rubbing your clit and buried inside of you.

Cursing, you clenched your legs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure that was building in between there. You looked up further, catching your eyes on his thick belt that held a number of different things. One time it had held a remote to some vibrating pants that you had worn, and all through the day he would tease you with them, activating them when you weren’t expecting it, or when you were talking to someone he didn’t particularly liked.

Up to his chest plates which protected his broad, strong chest. In the middle was a kar'ta, an Iron Heart, that was very important to Boba. Across his right cuirass was the Journeyman Protector symbol, a part of his history that Boba was proud of. It was the symbol of his grandfather Jaster Mereel, who had found and took in Jango Fett. Boba wore it proudly in honour of both his lineage and all the memories that his father had shared about Mereel.

Along his thick shoulders, Boba wore the sigil of Mandalore – a Mythosaur skull on the burnt orange of his left pauldron. It was a reminder of his culture, of his upbringing within the Mandalorian ways. No matter what he told others, he was the son of Jango Fett, once Mand’alor to the True Mandalorians. His father had taught him the language, the customs of his people, had shown him how to fight in a way only Mandalorians could. He was every bit as Mandalorian as the many scattered around the galaxy, and he was proud of it. You couldn’t help but smile, warmth filling you at how proud Boba was of his heritage and the way he displayed it in his sigils.

And then you dragged your gaze up to his helmet, and the black visor that you always seemed to get lost in. Although it never gave away any of Boba’s emotions, it was always so expressive to you. The slight tilt of the helmet, or the way it angled when Boba was displeased, it all helped you know exactly what Boba was feeling. He would deny it of course, because how could Beskar be so expressive? But you knew what to look out for, you had been with Boba for so long you could read the little changes in his body language, even if his face was hidden behind his helmet.

Although you knew what he was feeling, to others, the helmet was intimidating, never giving a hint as to what Boba was thinking or feeling. It made him extremely hard to negotiate with, which was why Boba wore it. He liked having people on the back foot, never knowing what to say or do and waiting for his lead. It was extremely clever of him and a power move that had worked on you a number of times.

A small gasp escaped you and you flushed even more when you looked back down to meet the black visor that was currently staring at you. Startled, you blinked in surprise before sending him a wicked grin, widening your legs just slightly so he could get a glimpse of what you were wearing underneath your dress. Boba seemed to stiffen on the throne and you couldn't help the swell of pride that swelled up in your chest. Little old you could distract the might Daimyo of Mos Espa while surrounded by bounty hunters, politicians and courtesans.

Grinning, you watched as Boba’s gloved hands tightened into fists, before they relaxed back to rest on the arms of the throne. Travelling up his arms, you admired the bulky, red-brown of his vambraces. They made him appear even bigger than he was, and they kept him connected to Slave 1, along with all his weapons and jet pack launcher that was by his feet. Not that he needed to appear bigger, Boba was just as powerful in his arms and hands as he was everywhere else. The hands that had killed too many people to count and could do unspeakable things to his enemies – were the ones that pressed sweet affections into your skin, the arms that you sought out after a terrible day or a nightmare. Where others had met their demise at Boba’s hands, you had always found love and protection in them.

“That is enough for today. Leave” Boba declared, everything instantly stilling and quieting in the room. Realising you had lost yourself in thoughts about Boba and his armour once more, you looked around the room, seeing everyone surprised at the announcement but beginning to move. The way he could just command a room like that, it made you cunt throb at the need to have him.

It seemed that Boba was impatient this evening, as his eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed up. “Get out!” Boba ordered, voice clear and frightful as it rung around the chamber. His helmet turned to you, and it froze you in your seat as the room burst into life.

As the people and aliens around you packed up their stuff and went home, you kept your eyes trained on Boba. His dark visor was staring into your own eyes, and you didn’t need the helmet off to know his eyes would be full of hunger and lust, just promising what he would do to you as soon as you were alone.

Once there was silence in the chamber, everyone gone and leaving the two of you alone. Fennec had been the last one to leave, levelling the both of you with a withering look before heading up the stairs and slamming the doors closed. It did nothing but make you feel even more excited to finally have Boba to yourself.

“Been staring at me all day, Princess. See something you like?” he remarked, running his gaze up and down your body as you strolled up to the throne.

“I did. A lot actually” you replied, stopping just in front of the stone steps.

Boba hummed, taking his helmet off and placing it to the side to rest on the wide arm rests before turning back to meet you with a heavy look. You were right, he looked ravenous for you, but still so damn in control of everything.

Not deigning your response with a reply, he held up his hands, crooking his fingers to you to get you closer to him.

And like a moth to a flame, you did. You climbed up the stairs, keeping your eyes on his own until your knees bumped against his. Being in Boba’s gaze was enough to make you feel a tingle run down your spine, wondering what exactly he was thinking to do to you. “I’m feeling tired suddenly, shall we take this upstairs?” you suggested, biting your lip enticingly.

Boba let out a low chuckle, his smile lighting up his face and making him look younger. “Oh, I don’t think so Princess. Take a seat” he instructed, patting his knee.

Heat flickered in your stomach at his words and the casual way he knew you would follow his orders. Leaning back into the throne, he watched as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Instead of pressing your hips against his, Boba pushed you back until you were perched on his knees, hands coming to squeeze and knead at your hips.

Frowning at him, you sent him a confused look, wanting to be closer to him, expecting him to want you to ride him. “I want you to sit right there, little one, and tell me what exactly got you so flushed in my court” Boba said, voice low as his eyes traced the way you swallowed hard, all the way down your neck and to the nice way your chest was displayed teasingly into your dress. It was a dress that Boba had brought you, in his own colours so that everyone knew you belonged to him.

Remembering all those thoughts that had been plaguing you while you had been watching him, you couldn’t help but flush at having to try and put those thoughts into words now. “I… er… I liked seeing you” you breathed, as one of his gloved hands trailed from your hip and squeezed your thigh. Right where it met your groin. It had you very distracted, and wondering if he could feel the heat from your core radiating through his pant leg.

“Go on, you can do better than that, Princess” he murmured, encouraging you on and you knew you had no choice but to listen to him.

“Sitting on your throne… commanding er… ruling Mos Espa. Oh, Boba!” you gasped, thoughts stuttering to a halt at the way he inched you forward on his leg just a little bit. It sent delicious friction up your cunt, as his thumb ran circles into your thighs, massaging the muscle there. Sliding your eyes closed, you began rocking your hips in time to the brushes up and down of his thumb.

However, Boba didn’t want that, giving your thigh a little pinch to bring your attention back to him. “That wasn’t all, was it, Princess?” he teased, leaning in closer to you. As you went to meet his lips with your own, he pulled back, chuckling at the frustrated grumble you let out at that. “Something else was making you spread your legs for me in the middle of all these people” he grinned, pushing your bunched up dress even further up your thighs until they rested on your hips, revealing the white panties that were soaked in your arousal.

Blinking, you couldn’t help but try and press forward, into the hands that was beginning their soothing strokes up and down your legs and hips. He’d run his hands over the swell of your hips, trace them down across your thigh and finishing at your inner thigh before staring again.

“I asked you a question, little one. I expect an answer” he warned, nails digging into the soft flesh that was trapped underneath his hands.

“You looked so good in your armour, Boba. Like a King… so powerful. And the way they all fear and respect you at the same time… It made me so wet for you” you tried to explain, moaning when Boba brushed his fingers slightly against your clothed clit. It had you bucking up into his hands before he swiftly pulled them away.

“You like me wearing my armour, Princess?” he asked, gripping your chin and pulling your face to meet his, eyes locking with your own. You could do nothing but nod, trapped in his heavy stare. “Like the way it feels against you?” he murmured, eyes darkening as you bit bottom lip.

“Yes” you whispered, because you damn well loved how he looked in his armour and the way it felt pressed against you. The hardness and unforgiving nature of it digging into your soft curves.

Boba grinned, reaching for the dress bunched at your waist and dragging it up and off you, throwing it to the side of his throne for it to be taken care of by one of the cleaning droids. He couldn’t help but admire your bare chest, taking in the soft mounds of your breasts and the way your nipples stiffened at being exposed to the cool air of his court.

Wanting nothing more than to squirm on his thigh, you rested your hands on his chest, trying to lean forward for a kiss instead. But he kept you pinned in place, a hand steady and firm on your chest as he pushed you back to sitting up for him. Sighing, you nodded in acceptance, you would stay where you were, for now. It wasn’t like it was a terrible position to be in, but you wanted to feel more of him. To feel his luscious lips against your own, peeling them open and devouring you in a kiss.

However, you were distracted as Boba raised his hands in between you, before his white teeth bit into the leather of his glove, easing it off his hands. Your breath stuck in your throat at the way his teeth had wrapped around the material, careful not to bite his own finger. You could just imagine that mouth doing the same to your nipple, the way he would drag his teeth over the bud and pull on it slightly, just to hear the moans that would slip from your mouth. He did the same to the other hand before he collected them both, tucking them into the side of his belt.

Mouth suddenly very dry, you took in a steadying breath as his warm, bronzed, calloused hands ran up and down your sides, squeezing slightly at your ribs before sliding down in a soothing pressure.

“Do you know, Princess, Mandalorian armour is very special. This belonged to my father, it has my genetic chain code inside it so everyone knows it belongs to me” he stated, shifting his legs slightly and causing you to grip onto his forearms to keep yourself steady. You did know that, why was he telling you again.

“Children used to put their painted handprints on to bring luck and to carry them with their parents. I think I want your cum dripping off it instead” Boba announced, placing his helmet on his thigh, the black visor seeming to stare at you.

“Boba, you can’t say stuff like that” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut. It felt like your heart had dropped into your cunt in surprise. He couldn’t be serious, could he? The thought had slick leaking from your entrance and you would have pressed your legs together if they wasn’t spread over his thick lap.

“Why not? I want you to ride my helmet, Princess. Leave your mark for everyone to see” he smirked, pressing his knee further up into you and causing you to whine at the way it pressed against your sensitive area.

No doubt you wouldn’t be leaving here until his helmet was covered in your juices. A badge of honour for your Daimyo. The thought of him heading out to Mos Espa, to walk among his people with your juices soaked into the beskar had you dripping even more. Oh god, when he went to the rebuilt Sanctuary then his helmet would be washed and cleaned. They would know exactly what any marks covering his helmet was.

Breath stuttering in your chest and your face burning, you looked into the dark eyes of your riddur. His scarred, yet smooth bronzed skin had a slight pink tinge to it as well, obviously you wasn’t the only one unaffected by this.

Knocking the view viewfinder down so that you could be more comfortable and so it wouldn’t break, you pushed yourself up onto your knees. You wanted to do this, couldn’t wait to see him walking around Mos Espa, knowing that his helmet was your juices dripping down it.

However, Boba stopped you, squeezing your thigh to keep you still before hooking his fingers into the waistline of your underwear. “You won’t be needing these, Princess” he stated.

It was the only warning you had, as Boba ripped them from you, throwing them to the side in a tattered pile that landed on your dress. The move had you dripping but you couldn’t help the squawk of indignation at him just ruining your pants, you only had so many. “Boba! I liked those!” you protested, but he just sent you a pleased grin.

“I’ll buy you a hundred more, Princess” he assured, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours.

Resting your hands on his shoulders, feeling the cool beskar beneath your hands, you chased after his lips, determined to get a real kiss off him. Feeling the chuckle rumble against your lips from him, he slipped a hand into your hair, fisting it tightly so he could lick against the seam of your mouth, dipping inside when you gasped at his probing tongue.

Boba kissed you like he was planning to devour you. Like you were the last bit of water on all of Tatooine and he had to have you. He pressed his tongue against yours, teasing and exciting you as he swallowed your moans. The hand in your hair not letting you escape until you whined, and he finally let you go to take in deep panting breaths of air.

“Go on, Princess, ride my helmet” he ordered, helping to position you so that you were over his helmet.

Sinking down had you gasping, fingers clenching on his shoulders for support as the cool, smooth texture touched your sensitive, soaked folds. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you couldn’t help but pull away slightly so as to not become overwhelmed so quickly. The wide dome of his helmet pressed against you, forcing your legs wide around it as you began to rock against it.

Panting, you began at your own rhythm, rocking and grinding down against the helmet, cursing every time it rubbed just right against your clit. You could feel your slick and heat transferring to the metal, the slick helping to guide your way around the green bucket.

Warm hands came up to cup your breasts, and you peeled your eyes open to look down at Boba. He was watching you, eyes fixed on your face as you took your pleasure from his helmet. Your breasts was bouncing in his face, and he squeezed them roughly, sending heat shooting down into your already throbbing core.

“Boba! Oh, please touch me” you begged, pushing your chest into his hands and keeping up the rocking of your hips. It felt wonderful to have his hands on you, feel the way they set fire to you with every brush and stroke against you.

“Look at you, ad’ika. Enjoy riding my helmet so much” he groaned, thumbs brushing over your pebbled nipples, touch just on the right side of rough. “Should see how much is dripping from you, I won’t be able to see out of my visor” he teased, glancing down at the way your slick was sliding down his helmet.

You whined at his words, at the way he was pinching and pulling at your sore buds while you rode his helmet. It was becoming too much, your first release was starting to build as you quickened your pace against his helmet.

“That’s it, Princess. I know you’re close” he moaned, hand sliding around your back to bring you closer to his mouth. He took a bud into the warm, wet heat of his mouth, laving attention on the stiffened peak until it had you bucking your hips forward, chasing your pleasure. “Gonna cum just from riding my helmet? Dirty girl!” he growled, teeth grazing over your nipple and tugging at it sharply.

Combined with his words, the way he was pinching and biting and pulling at your sore nipples, and the way his helmet felt so good between your legs – spreading you wide and gliding just right under your throbbing clit, it had you falling over the edge. Your cries echoed around the stone chamber, not that you cared. The whole of Tatooine could hear just how hard Boba could make you cum, and he didn’t even need to fuck you with his cock to do it.

“That’s it, good girl, Princess. You did so well” Boba praised, helping you to raise off his helmet and sit on his lap once more. You shuddered into his chest, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm and Boba wrapped an arm around your waist. Bringing you closer to him and pressing a reassuring kiss on your head, he picked up his helmet and placed it onto the arm rest. “Open your eyes, Princess. See what you’ve done to my armour” Boba instructed, hand gliding soothingly up and down your back.

Blinking at him, you turned to face the helmet and couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around nothing at the sight. All along the green helmet there was streaks of your cum, your slick had run over his visor and you could see more arousal dripping down the sides of it. It had you both embarrassed and proud at having marked his armour like that. Everyone would know that he was yours, and you were his.

“Bit late to get embarrassed now, little one. You did so well” Boba chuckled warmly, affection clear in his tone and the way he squeezed you into his chest. “Are you okay for more?” he asked, nuzzling your nose with his.

“Always ready for more with you” you smiled, leaning up to press a loving kiss to his lips. He returned it, letting you direct the kiss for a moment before he turned it into a more passionate kiss, drawing out little moans of pleasure and want. You sighed against his lips, pushing yourself up to straddle him properly, sitting down onto the hard bulge in his flight suit.

Boba hissed out at the contact, hands squeezing your sides at the way you felt against him. Even through his under-suit he could feel just how hot you were, could feel your slick leaking into the material. Tilting his head, he pulled away with a small gasp, although it was lost in your noise of complaint.

“Don’t be greedy, Princess” he chided, running his hand up your thighs and positioning you a bit better for him. He lifted you up slightly, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping kisses along his jaw and neck while his fingers found your dripping folds.

“Kriff, Princess, is this all for me? I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re so wet” Boba cursed, gathering your release and arousal on his fingers before circling your clit with them.

“Hmm! Boba, just for you. Only you can make me feel like this” you sighed, burying your face into his neck.

“That’s right, Princess. Only I can make you feel like this, can make you cum just on their helmet” he teased, delighting in the way you groaned, trying to bury your way into his skin to hide. “I’m teasing, little one, you know how much I enjoyed that” he soothed, rocking his hips up into yours and letting you feel his erection pressed into your inner thigh.

“Please Boba, want you inside of me” you grumbled, becoming impatient yourself at the way he was just sliding his fingers around your entrance, never pushing in, but setting a dull ache in your core. He never built your pleasure, just kept it simmering on a low heat.

“Not yet, little one, have to prepare you first. Always think you can take me but you clench so hard around my cock, even after I’ve stretched you open for me” he smirked, and you didn’t even have to look at his face to know that there would be a smug expression spread across it.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to buck against his hand, get him moving things along as heat licked at your core. “Boba, I want you now!” you ordered, digging your nails into the nape of his neck.

He hissed, one hand coming to land around your throat, although he never squeezed, just kept it there as a warning. While his other hand delivered a sharp swat on your inner thigh.

Yelping at the sharp sting that left, you couldn’t help but buck into him even more, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as you felt yourself clench around nothing. Stars! You wanted him to do that again, as you leaned into the hand that was resting at the base of your throat.

“Don’t be a brat, little one!” he growled, hard eyes boring into your own and keeping you pinned under his gaze. “I won’t hurt you. So I’m going to open you up on my fingers and you’re going to thank me for it. When I think you’ve had enough, then I’m going to fuck your pretty little cunt until you can’t say anything but my name. But only when I decide, do you understand, little one?” he warned, voice rumbling out of him in a low and dark tone that had your thighs quivering at it.

“Yes, sir” you breathed, mouth falling open slightly at the way he tightened his grip around the side of your neck briefly before letting go once more.

“You’ve remembered some manners, Princess. Now, be a good girl and let me feel you clenching around my fingers” he ordered, sliding his hand between your legs once more.

He ran his fingers over your engorged clit one, two, three more times before he dipped between your folds and circled your entrance before he was pushing one of his thick fingers inside of you. He pulled out so only his finger up until his first knuckle was inside of you, before running around the rim of your hole, testing just how tight you were inside of your clenching hole.

“Boba!” you whined, burying your face into his shoulders at the way he was exploring you. Even though he knew your body like the back of his hand, he couldn’t help but want to tease out the delightful sounds of pleasure that you let out.

Noticing the way you were relaxing around his probing finger, he pushed it even further inside of you, crooking them, just like he did when he was calling for you up to his throne. Guiding you back a little so he could see the slacked mouth expression on your face as he pushed in a second finger, stretching you open even more for him. He groaned as the pressure in his flight suit became more pronounced with the way you just seemed to melt around his fingers. Sighing, he pressed his lips against your collarbone, sucking and licking marks into your skin so that others would know just exactly who you belonged to.

At a particularly sharp graze of his teeth against your collarbone, you let out a loud cry, rocking your hips and grinding down onto his hand. Normally Boba stretched you with three fingers, insisting that was the minimum he would use to make sure you were stretched and ready for him. He was always a large man, and that translated to other areas of his anatomy. You just knew that you were going to feel him for days after this.

Sucking the skin into his mouth, laving it with his tongue in apology, he pulled back, pleased to see the already darkening patch of skin at the base of your throat. He felt the way your walls tightened around his fingers, drawing and pulling him in every time he pulled them out. Like your desperate little hole couldn’t be without his fingers filling it up. “You take my fingers so well, don’t you, mesh’la?” he hummed, pleased and smug at being the one to make you like this.

Tilting your head down, you watched as his fingers disappeared inside of you, bending them just right so that they brushed against the spongy patch inside of you. When Boba entered a third finger into you, you couldn’t help the loud cry you let out, hearing it echo around the deserted room as Boba continued to stroke and rub at the delicious spot that had you shuddering.

Of course, Boba noticed and couldn’t help but say something, loving to tease you when you were like this. So desperate and needy in his lap, at his mercy as your cries of pleasure rung out in the room because of him. “Look at you, I’ve only just started using my fingers and you’re already shaking for me” he chuckled darkly, thumb coming to rub circles against your clit.

“OHHH! Boba! There! Please, right there” you yelped, feeling the way his thick, delicious fingers were pressed inside of you, while his thumb was massaging and rubbing at your bundle of nerves.

“I know, little one. I’ll get you there. Go on, ride my fingers” he shushed, cooing at you as he felt the way your walls tightened and relaxed around him.

Your thighs were burning at this point, and you couldn’t help the small whine that fell from your lips as you raised your hips up off him before sinking down onto his fingers. You ground against them, bucking and rolling your hips as he kept stimulating your clit, rubbing small circles on it and making the coil inside of you tighten.

“Boba please, I- I can’t” you pleaded, shuddering against him as you bucked your hips.

“Sshh, Princess. You just lie there, I’ll take care of you” he soothed, licking a stripe up the side of your neck before nibbling at the hinge of your jaw and pulling a moan from you. He pulled you down to rest against his chest while he pumped his fingers out of you faster and faster, building up your release until you had no choice but to fall over the edge, calling out his name as you shivered against his heaving chest.

“That’s it Princess, good girl. You look so beautiful cumming around my fingers, I know you’re going to be radiant when you cum around my cock” Boba said quietly, withdrawing his fingers from you and pulling them into his mouth. He let out a loud groan at the taste, watching as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at the sight of him sucking your release from his fingers.

“Fuck Boba! You… you’re going to kill me” you chuckled breathlessly, licking your lips as you watched him.

He let out a huff of amusement before he was pushing you up back onto your feet in front of him. Your knees wobbled but you locked them, managing to keep yourself straight with the help of his strong, steady hands on your hips.

“Don’t die on me just yet, little one. I’m going to fuck you now. Do you still want that?” he checked in, pushing himself up to stand as well. Pulling you into him, he supported your weight with his body, making sure you were alright to continue.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his armour felt pressed against your sweaty, panting body, still shaking slightly from the aftershocks of your powerful orgasms. “I still want that, Boba, but I think my legs will give out before you get the chance” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.

“That’s alright little one, all I want you to do is lie right here, I’ll take care of the rest” he assured, leading you over to the side of his throne. He grabbed one of the pillows and throws someone had left as tribute and placed them so you could lie comfortably.

As you bent over the wide arm rests, you couldn’t help but sigh, glad of Boba’s attention to your comfort levels. The pillows and throws helped soften the rough edges so they weren’t digging into your skin. Resting your head against the seat, you let yourself relax, waiting for Boba.

You weren’t waiting long, as you felt his dexterous fingers run up and down your slit, collecting the arousal dripping from you. Boba nudged your legs wider, planting himself firmly between your spread legs. “Kriff, you’re so beautiful, Princess. Wish you could see how you look from here” Boba praised, running his fingers gently over your aching clit.

You jolted, a surprised giggle escaping you as well. “I think you appreciate the sight more than I ever will, Boba” you told him, wiggling your hips at him.

You heard an answering snort of amusement before hands were gripping your cheeks and spreading you wide open for his gaze. Moaning, you buried your face into your arms, muffling your sounds.

A sharp crack had you jumping, and you instantly reached back to clutch at your cheek where Boba had spanked you. “Ah! I want to hear you, Princess. Don’t you dare muffle any of your moans” he rebuked, stroking the sting away with his palm running over the reddened cheek.

Nodding, you lifted your head a little and let our a shaky breath, trying to push back into him. “Sorry, just really need you inside of me. Taking me, claiming me, making everyone know who I belong to” you groaned, knowing your words would entice him to fuck you and not draw this out.

“Fuck! Princess! Everyone is going to hear you screaming my name” he promised, gripping the base of his thick, heavy cock in his hand and rubbing it over your slit. He circled the tip around your clit before sliding once more between your glistening folds.

“Boba please! Fuck me!” you begged, eyes squeezed shut at the zap of pleasure that shot from your cunt all the way up your spine, leaving you breathless and feeling like you were on fire.

Chuckling darkly, Boba notched the head of his cock at your entrance, barely pressing in enough to stretch your opening around the dome shaped head of his cock. “You asked for it, little one” he smirked, before pushing inside of you with a steady thrust, unrelenting of his pace as he continued to stretch your quivering walls around him.

Panting, you moans and cries coming out broken from your mouth as your legs shook, glad of the way the throne was holding you up. It felt like he was splitting you in two, even with the way he stretched you around 3 of his fingers. The heavy, feeling of his cock made you feel stuffed full, like there was no other space inside of you for him to press into. Your hands clutched and scraped on the hard stone of the throne, desperate to clutch onto something.

Boba must have realised that, because he grasped your hands in his, flattening them so you couldn’t hurt yourself against the stone. He reached back and pressed his gloves into your hands instead.

Instantly you began squeezing and tugging on them, as you adjusted to his size, trying to gain a steady breath at the way he just filled you up so perfectly. It felt like he was carving a place inside of you for himself, never wanting to let you go as his hands squeezed your hips, stopping you from pressing back into him.

“There we go, Princess, all inside of you now” Boba purred, brushing a warm, calloused hand down your spine and delighting in the way you relaxed further around his cock. “Is this what you needed when you were being a brat this morning? Knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d be back in this greedy cunt again” Boba growled, pulling back out of you before slamming inside of you with one powerful thrust.

“AAH! BOBA!” you screamed, as he forced you further across his throne. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” you whined, as he began to set a fast pace, fucking into you quickly and drawing out slowly that allowed you to feel the heavy weight drag across that sweet spot inside of you.

“That’s it, little one. I’ve got you, just going to lie there and take what I give you, won’t you? Be my good girl” Boba said, voice light and soothing but the words had you sinking into him, whining softly as you nodded. He couldn’t help the groan that he let out at the feel of you just accepting everything he gave you. He rewards you with leaning forward, the heavy weight of his chest plate pinning you further into the throne as he lay nips and kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders.

The feel of him pressing you down, his hips fit snugly against yours had your breaths stuttering in your chest. He felt so big, encompassing you and keeping you still for him. It felt so good to feel that cool Beskar against your heated, sweat-slicked skin. The way his vambraces dug into you slightly as he held your sides.

“Boba please!” you whined, turning your head so that you could briefly catch his lips in a kiss. It was a messy kiss, over just as quick as it had begun but it had pleasure curling in your core. “Fuck! Need more, please!” you begged, hand reaching around to wrap around his neck and keep him close to you.

Boba’s deep groan filled your ear and you couldn’t help but clench around him at such an erotic sound. You had done this to him, fired him up enough that he had dismissed his court and was fucking you over his throne.

“Such a greedy thing” he admonished, grunting as he slamming his cock inside of you once more. “I am fucking you” he reminded, pulling your hips back against his own. But still he pulled himself away from you and rested a hand on the nape of your neck, keeping your face twisted to the side, while the other squeezed your hip tight enough to leave bruises. “But if you want more, Princess… Well, you know I can never say no to you” he chuckled, pounding into you now as he kept your hips up, driving his cock into your fluttering walls.

The squelching noise as he fucked you deep hit your ears, you could hear just how wet you were, how every thrust made that sound. Your slick was wetting the inside of your thighs and his crotch, but he didn’t care, driving down into you over and over until all you could think of was Boba and so good! You clung onto the other arm rest, trying to keep yourself steady as you let out sobs of pleasure. Tears were beginning to sting your eyes as he reached around you to rub at your clit.

“BOBA!” you yelped, letting out a guttural moan at the way he was filling you, driving your release closer and closer with every press against your cervix.

“Kriff! You feel so good, Princess. So tight around my fat cock” he hissed, driving into you harder and winding his hand into your hair. Tugging slightly, but making sure you didn’t move too much from the position he put you in.

You moaned, feeling the way you were exposed for him, the way his fingers rubbed at your clit and his cock spearing into you. It was becoming too much, and you could feel the way your walls were clutching onto his thick cock.

“Can feel you shaking around me, little one. Are you going to cum for me? Let me fill your sweet hole up with my cum?” he growled, rolling his hips inside of you and moaning at the way you clung to him so tightly he could barely move. “Fuck Princess! Feels like you’re swallowing me up” he groaned, nudging your legs a little wider so he could hit that spot deeper.

“Oh!” you gasped, arching up into him as much as possible while he kept you pinned down. The coil in your stomach was tightening, and you felt so close to the edge. All you needed was a little more, you didn’t know what but Boba did. “Yes! Yes! Please, Boba, please!” you chanted, lost in the pleasure that he was stoking inside of you.

“Cum for me Princess” he ordered, pinching your clit and sending you crashing over the edge.

You cried out his name, hearing it echo around you as you shook, vision going white as your released washed over you. Everything became too much and not enough as you felt Boba slam his cock deep inside of you a couple more times before he was shooting his hot release into your fluttering channel. His snarl of your name filling the chambers as well.

Carefully he pulled away from your sensitive clit, pulling himself away from you and rubbing up and down your body, soothing the tremors that still ran through you. He pressed kisses along your shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. How you were such a good girl for him, how he can’t get enough of you, that you are everything he was searching for. He pressed love into you, making sure you calmed down with the help of his steady hands and soothing voice.

When both of your breaths returned to normal, Boba pulled out and helped you to stand up.

Grimacing, you clenched your thighs, hoping to stop the mess that was already leaking down your thighs. He reached for some water and a cloth behind his throne and you shot him a surprised look.

“Do you just keep cleaning supplies behind your throne for this occasion?” you demanded, hissing slightly at the cool temperature as he wiped you clean.

Boba gave you an unimpressed look before turning back to cleaning you up. “I know just how much you like to see me sitting on the throne, little one. You’re not as subtle as you think” he stated, eyes crinkling in the corners in amusement.

Even though he had been balls deep inside of you only a few minutes ago, you couldn’t help but flush at his words. He would be using that knowledge to tease you no doubt. Burying your face into his chest, you heard him chuckle and the gentle kiss press against your head.

“Come on, Princess, lets go back to our rooms. I’ll run you a nice bath and we can have a soak” Boba offered, running his palms up and down your arms.

“That’ll be nice. Can you pass me my dress then? I don’t feel like giving your staff a show” you hummed, pulling back to press a kiss to his chin.

“I think they already heard it” he smirked, reaching for your dress to hand it over to you, and picking up his helmet at the same time. Your eyes widened at the way your arousal was streaked down it. “Hmm, I’m never cleaning this again” he remarked, winking at you playfully.