Tumgik
#boba fett fanfiction
Text
Toys Don't Talk- Boba Fett x f!reader
Tumblr media
Main Masterlist | Boba Fett Masterlist | Star Wars Masterlist
Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+
Summary: After a hard day's work as Daimyo, Boba lets off a little steam while on his throne. Turning you into his human Fleshlight.
Word Count: 1346
Warnings: unprotected PIV, creampie, objectification, use of pet names (princess, little one) just general Big Dick Boba Filth, reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed
Author's Note: this fic was inspired by this post. thank you so much to @wannab-urs and @beskarandblasters for beta reading and @pr0ximamidnight for beta reading AND for giving me Boba's best line!
The stone of Boba Fett’s throne was cool against your skin, a welcome sensation in the oppressive heat of Tatooine’s twin suns. It’s much cooler here in Boba’s underground throne room than it is on the surface, but the heat still seeps through. You join him here often, sitting upon the arm of his throne. You drape yourself across his lap sometimes. You just like to be near him while he does whatever it is a Daimyo does. You aren’t totally sure, you tend to tune out when Boba isn’t paying attention to you. Sometimes you bring the holopad you received as a tribute from one of the people of Mos Espa with you. You tuck your feet under one of Boba’s thick thighs and lean back against the stone. 
The only time you take notice of what is happening is when someone does something to displease Boba. Someone even pulled a blaster on him once. Boba stood quickly, shielding your body with his own. Fennec dispatched the problem and the whole thing was over almost as soon as it had begun. Boba didn’t allow you to join him in the throne room for a while after that happened. “I have to keep you safe, princess.” He’d said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.” 
The feeling is mutual. You’d do anything to keep Boba happy. Even if that meant being separated from him for most of the day. He made sure to make it up to you when he retired to your shared rooms for the evening. Boba Fett is well known for being good at a great many things. He’s the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy, a fact disputed by his friend Din Djarin. He brought peace and prosperity back to Mos Espa after decades of being starved by Jabba. The conditions worsened even further under Bib Fortuna’s rule. 
But the thing you’ve discovered he was most proficient at is taking you apart, piece by piece. With his hands, his mouth, his cock. Your screams and moans echo off the stone walls of the palace almost every night. Your rooms are isolated, but Boba wasn’t always patient enough to wait until you made it there. He’s had you in almost every room, even the kitchen, 
He loves to have you in his throne room though. Bent over one of the arms, with you sitting on his throne. Any and every way. The room is open on three sides, hallways that lead down to other parts of the complex. Boba employs a lot of people. Anyone could walk in on you two at any time. Just thinking of someone catching Boba fucking the life out of you on his throne has you growing damp. 
You squeeze your thighs together, hoping some pressure will help relieve the growing ache in your cunt. Boba notices your squirming and squeezes your thigh with his leather clad hand. He leans over and brings his helmet close to you, the metal cool on your forehead. If you weren’t sweating before, you certainly are now with Boba’s body crowding yours. 
“I’m almost done, princess.” he says quietly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” The modulator on his helmet adds an extra grit to his voice that you find irresistible. Combined with the promise of things to come, you are practically soaked right now. You let out an involuntary whimper in response and you can hear Boba’s breath catch in his throat. He sits back on his throne but you can tell he’s as uninterested in the person speaking to him as you are. 
He raises his hand and waves them off, 8D8 ushers them out of the room. He waves Fennec over and speaks quietly with her. You can’t concentrate on a word he’s saying. You are too focused on the hand gripping your thigh and the growing bulge in his flight suit and the throbbing between your legs. You’re thankful that he left the codpiece off this morning when he was getting dressed. 
“Come here, little one.” Boba gestures to his lap. You look around and the room seems to have been completely cleared. You slide down from the arm of the throne onto Boba’s lap. Your legs hang between his spread ones and your arms go around his neck. He rips his helmet off and places it where you had been sitting. He cups your face with his hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I know this is boring. You do not have to sit here all day, you know that right? You are free to do as you please.” 
“I like being near you.” you shrug and lean into his hand. 
“Turn around.” 
You are thankful that the throne was made for Jabba. Hutts are known for their colossal size. There was plenty of room for you and Boba to fit comfortably no matter the position. He begins removing your clothes as you turn to straddle him. Soon you are completely bare, while the only items Boba has removed are his helmet and gloves. He runs his hands up your thighs and to your hips. He grips them firmly and uses them to pull you down even further. 
Your bare cunt rubs against his flightsuit, his growing bulge twitches against you. You moan and roll your hips into the friction. 
“Boba, please. ” You whine. 
“Needy thing, aren’t you?” he teases, thrusting up and pulling you down at the same time. “I got you, princess.” 
You pout when he releases his hold on you. He unzips his flightsuit and pulls out his cock. It’s a work of art. Not too long, but nice and thick. He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, spreading your arousal over the leaking tip of his dick. You lift yourself and he lines himself up. He returns his hand to your hips and pulls you down, plunging himself inside of you. 
The way he stretches you open has you panting and squirming. You attempt to roll your hips against his, desperate to feel him hit that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Boba’s grip holds firm, not letting you move. He twitches inside you when you let out another whine. You sound so pathetic like this but you don’t care. You need him. 
Boba moves one hand to the back of your neck, keeping a tight hold on your hip with the other. He pulls you down on his cock while fucking up into you at the same time. Each thrust has his cock hitting in just the right spot. It doesn’t take long before you are a mewling, dripping mess. 
“Oh, Boba.” you pant breathlessly.
“Hush now, princess. Toys aren’t supposed to talk.” 
You whimper at the idea of being just a toy for him to use. Just a hole for him to fuck. You play into it. Trying to remain as still and quiet as possible. It’s so hard though, he fucks with the same vigor and concentration he applies to everything. When your legs begin to shake, orgasm imminent, you open your mouth to moan. Boba covers your mouth with his large hand and fucks you even harder, faster. 
While your moans are muffled behind his hand, his fall freely echoing off the stone walls of the throne room. Your walls clench down on him as you come, dragging his own orgasm out of him at the same time. His pace never falters, not until he’s left every last drop of himself inside your cunt. When he finally pulls out of you, you drip all over his lap. 
You both take a moment to catch your breath. You, with your head laying against the cool metal of his cuirass, while Boba rubs his hands up and down your back. When you’ve finally come down, Boba helps you stand, ensuring that your wobbly legs will carry you. He grabs his helmet and puts his arm around your shoulder. 
“Let’s go clean up.” he says, pressing a kiss into your temple. 
Sign up for my taglist!
149 notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 1 month
Text
Say Yes
Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader
Content & Trigger Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, heavy suggestive themes, protective!Boba, Mandalorian!Boba, light angst, non-descriptive sex
Word Count: 2.5k
A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist
Tumblr media
Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart riduur – partner / spouse “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” – marriage vows
“Marry me, cyar’ika.”
You glance up from the worn open tome resting on the counter in front of you. “Again? Really, Boba?”
The Mandalorian helmet, dented with flaking green paint, tilts slightly to the right. “You called me ‘Boba’ this time,” teases the bounty hunter.
You roll your eyes and push off from the counter, cheeks heating even as you grumble in false irritation.
Boba Fett, Jabba the Hutt’s favorite mercenary for hire, has asked you to marry him every day for several weeks now. And each time, you have refused him. For the first few, you were overly polite. But as his attempts continued, your polite rejections transformed into snarky quips and blatant dismissals.
It’s not like you don’t find the man attractive. Underneath the armor is an incredibly handsome man, and his attention has always been sincere. But Boba Fett is a dangerous man, and you’re just a simple shopkeeper trying to make a living in Mos Espa. In that regard, the two of you are incompatible no matter how much he persists and chases after you.
“I like how you say my name,” continues Boba, his voice a soft purr. “Sounds beautiful on your tongue.”
“And you are too forward,” you snap, knowing that your sharpness is just a cover. Which is silly, because you do like him, and Boba seems to understand this. Boba burrows beneath your skin, and you cannot dig him out.
“Am I?” he asks with mock offense. You really want to throttle him, but you also really want to kiss him.
“Yes. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Fett,” you emphasize, deliberately using his last name. “But a ‘no’ is a ‘no’ even if you don’t like it.”
Yep. Push him away. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll take the hint this time.
Boba Fett stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped. With the helmet on, you have no idea what his expression might be or what he’s feeling. Not knowing is maddening, and it quickens your heartbeat, a growing tingle buzzing in the tips of your fingers.
“So, all those touches meant nothing to you?” he asks with just the faintest hint of roughness in his tone.
“Yes,” you lie.
Boba shifts on his feet, shoulders straightening. “What about all the kisses you’ve given me? Hm? Nothing?”
Kriffing hell, why is this man always so direct? It’s nice that Boba is good about telling you what he wants and what he’s thinking for the most part, but it always catches you off-guard. It makes you weak, melting you into goo that he can mold however he wishes.
“Those are not enough to build a marriage, Boba,” you shrug. “There has to be more.”
“But there is more.” He steps around the counter, stepping into your space. “Isn’t there?”
Boba is right. There is more. There has always been more. Whenever Boba is on Tatooine, he is visiting you, talking with you, bringing you gifts, fixing things around the shop without you having to ask. He has offered to take you out after you’ve closed shop. He routinely takes a personal interest in your safety and security. Because of that, no one bothers you or tries to harass additional credits out of you. They stay away and respect you because they see you as Boba’s woman.
And it isn’t only that. He only ever speaks softly to you. He only ever treats you with respect and shows general interest in your life. The most maddening thing is how many women have actively shown their interest in him to his face, and he has brushed them all aside. Even after all these refusals on your end, Boba still declines their advances, and shows up at your shop each day insisting that you marry him.
“Why do you keep denying this, cyar’ika? You know I’d make you happy.” Boba is standing too close, almost on top of you.
“The shop is closed,” you reply. “If you’re not going to make a purchase, you should leave.”
Boba nods his head and backs up, reaching for an item off the shelf without looking. He deposits some credits on the counter, much more than what the item is actually worth.
“I’ll return tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder, tapping the counter as he makes his exit.
The soft chime that alerts you to when the front door opens echoes throughout the room.
You’re in the backroom organizing. It’s the next day, and Boba hasn’t shown himself yet. This might be him, but it’s likely not. There are times when Boba does not come, and you are fully aware that those are times when Jabba sends him off for a job.
“Sorry. We’re closed.” You step out from the backroom and immediately freeze.
Three Nikto bikers loiter in the middle of the shop. It’s evident that they are not here to purchase anything. Their dark eyes roam over the shelves and tables, but once they notice you, they focus in, drawing closer.
“Apologies,” you say, attempting to project your voice, to sound tougher than you are. “We’ve closed for the evening. If there is something you need right away, I can ring you up. Otherwise, you’ll need to leave.” You do your best to keep your voice steady and calm, but you hear the gentle shake.
“This street is our new territory,” hisses the leader of the group. “We were stopping by to offer our…services.”
Services, meaning protection, meaning “pay us or you’ll be a target.”
Tatooine might be overrun with crime lords and criminal activity, but the main powers at play are not known to harass the smaller folks just trying to make a living. These are outliers. These are individuals who answer to no one but themselves, and believe they can carve a piece out for their own gain.
Rarely are they ever successful, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.
Just as you open your mouth to reply, the soft chime comes again. This time everyone turns and you sigh with relief when you see who it is.
“Boba Fett,” says the Nikto slowly. His shoulders stiffen and they all put their hands on their blasters.
The bounty hunter does no answer right away. His helmet moves, scanning the Nikto, and then you, assessing. Even from across the shop, you sense Boba’s anger. There are few things that rile him up, but you’re one of them.
“It’s not smart moving in on Jabba’s territory. Or to harass what’s mine.” When Boba says mine, he growls it. The possessiveness in his tone heats your flesh, sends a sharp spike of desire down to your belly.
The Nikto all glance at each other before the leader addresses Fett. “We didn’t know the female was yours, Boba.” He holds his hands out in a placating gesture, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. Yet you know that isn’t true. Their intention from the start was to harass you for credits.
You scoff at female but decide to let it go.
“I think it’s best that you leave.” Boba steps to the side.
The duo glance at their leader for direction. The Nikto’s features are impassive, but he eventually inclines his head, exiting as Boba insist they do. When the last one leaves, Boba momentarily glances in your direction. The door stands open, and Boba exits with him.
When it whooshes shut, you sprint over to the wall panel, immediately engaging the lock and shuttering the windows. You stand in the silent shop for a few minutes trying to calm your heartrate. Once it’s manageable, and not beating so hard it might burst from your chest, you head upstairs to your small apartment above the shop.
By the time you’re curled up in bed, you’re no longer anxious, but there is the slightest bit of tension that lingers in your limbs. Sighing, you turn over in the bed, only to hear the brief pulse of a jetpack shutting off and boots on the small balcony outside your bedroom window.
Slowly, you push up to sitting, the bedsheets falling to your waist. You know it’s Boba. He does this some nights. Camps out and protect you in the only way he knows how because you’re too stubborn to take him up on his numerous marriage proposals.
Tonight, it’s obvious as to why he’s out there. Part of you is reluctant to leave him outside. You’d prefer it if he were with you, within arm’s reach, to see him without the helmet. Plus, nights on Tatooine can grow cold. You want him inside where it’s warm.
On quiet feet, you go to the door that leads outside. Opening it silently, you stick your head out into the chilly air, finding Boba as he leans against the exterior wall, arms crossed.
“You should be in bed, cyar’ika,” chides Boba playfully.
You swallow, suddenly nervous now that you’re confronting him. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask, a bit hesitantly.
Maybe it’s the uncertainty in your tone, or the way you shrink back a bit into the interior of the room, because Boba is suddenly alert, all of his attention attuned to you.
Boba immediately pushes off from the wall and approaches you, his hand on the door, pushing it wider. “Are you hurt? Did one of them touch you?”
You shake your head vehemently. “No. I’m fine. Promise.”
Boba’s chest heaves slightly but you’re not sure if it’s from his sudden movement or a releasing of relief. He glances over his shoulder at Mos Espa, the t-shaped visor of his helmet fixated on the city’s skyline. Turning back, Boba nods.
You step away from the door and Boba enters. Even with the door closed and the windows’ shutters slanted to dim the moonlight, some of it still spills over the room like tiny white rivers.
His helmet hisses as the pressure seal disengages. Slowly, Boba lifts the helmet off his head and sets it aside on a nearby table. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the ends sticking up slightly after he does so. With the faintest movement, Boba turns, and that moonlight cuts sharp glowing lines over his face, highlighting tanned skin and dark eyes.
You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until Boba grabs you by the waist and pulls you against his armor-clad body. Instinctively, your hands reach out, locking onto the beskar. Boba’s head dips and yours rises to meet him automatically, and yet there is no connection. It is simply holding, a waiting between two hesitant people.
“You haven’t asked me to marry you today,” you murmur.
The corner of Boba’s lips turns upward in a soft smile. “Will you marry me, cyar’ika?”
“No,” you say automatically, before the two of you start laughing.
“Let’s try that again.” Boba reaches up and cradles your cheek. “Cyar’ika. Will you marry me? Will you allow me to speak the words of my people? And will you speak them back?”
The words of his people. The Mandalorian marriage vows. You are distinctly aware of what they are and what they mean. Which is why Boba’s earnestness isn’t fake to you. Mandalorians take their weddings vows seriously even though the process of exchange is simple. It is the intention behind the exchange that is most important to them.
That is how you know Boba speaks the truth, that him asking you to marry him is a genuine desire of his.
“Passion does not make a relationship,” you reply.
The answer is a shift away from actually having to answer. How many times have you and Boba ended up on the floor of the backroom after rejecting him? It’s more than you can count on your hands.
“That’s all this is to you?” he laughs. “You know I can give you more. I do more than that now.”
You curl forward a bit, rest your forehead against the beskar. “I’m scared,” you whisper.
“Of what?”
“Of what will change.”
Boba’s fingers brush under your chin and lightly guide your gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t ask you to give anything up.”
“Yes, but—”
Boba gives the slightest shake of his head and you instantly quiet. “Do you want me?” he asks. “Tell the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I want you,” you breathe, allowing the words to drip off your tongue.
“May I have one of your kisses?” he asks softly, one gloved thumb lightly pressing down on your bottom lip.
“Yes,” you breathe.
Boba closes the distance, forms perfectly to you. It is slow and delicate and sweet. Your body hums with energy, and when you press for more, Boba growls and pulls back, hastily ripping off his gloves to reveal his bare hands.
Then he’s cupping the side of your face, drawing you back to him, tasting and tasting and tasting until your fingers are clawing at him in desperation. When he breaks the kiss, you still lean forward as if you can reach him.
“Then repeat the words with me, cyar’ika. Become my riduur.”
Boba presses his lips to yours, draws forth an air-stealing shiver from deep within your lungs.
“Mhi solus tome.”
“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.
We are one together.
Boba slides an arm around your waist to drape softly over your curves. “Mhi solus dar’tome,” he says.
You say it back to him. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”
We are one when parted.
“Mhi me’dinui an.”
“Mhi me’dinui an.”
We share all.
This time, Boba slots his pelvis against yours, and you understand his heated intention.
“Mhi ba’juri verde.”
“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you say with shaky breath.
We will raise warriors.
Boba snuggles the side of your neck, breathes in your scent. “I’d like to lay with my riduur.” His fingers find the edge of your sleeping robes.
“As long as I can have my riduur the same way.”
Boba grins against your throat. Together, the two of you remove his armor, piece by piece by piece. The moment his flightsuit is unzipped and he steps out of it, Boba is on you, drawing your lips to his, desperately claiming what is now so rightfully his.
Your own clothes are gone before making it to the bed. Boba runs his hands over your back, sliding down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his middle, and Boba carries you off, placing you gently onto your back.
His mouth upon your skin is a brand. Hot. Searing. It goes lower, lower still until you’re crying out for him, begging for him to be with you as your riduur should. Boba is happy to do so, sliding between your thighs so perfectly, you both lose yourselves momentarily before becoming nothing but a raging storm, waves crashing into each other repeatedly until one of you breaks.
Rest does not come until the morning suns begin to ascend over the horizon. You do not open your shop. And Boba does not return to Jabba’s palace.
There is peace for a while.
Harmony.
taglist:
@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @beebeechaos
169 notes · View notes
daimyosprincess · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
AN HONEST DAY'S WORK
—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader
—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.
—WORD COUNT: 9k
—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, age gap relationship (reader is an adult), Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex
Please let me know if I missed anything!
—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖
Divider by the @saradika
Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist
Tumblr media
What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery. 
While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.
All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation. 
Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.
It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.
Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.
It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world. 
Boba Fett is going to fix that.
After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-
Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.
Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.
Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 
With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.
Tumblr media
Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?
Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard. 
“See something you like, princess?”
Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”
He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”
The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.
You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.” 
Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.
Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”
You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.
Maybe…
You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head. 
“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-” 
You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.
The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”
That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.
“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”
Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”
If only he knew just how good I can be.
The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.
Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.
Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.
For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.
Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm. 
He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”
Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?” 
Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”
As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.
“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”
“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 
Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you? 
Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.” 
And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.
“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.
Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.
When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb. 
You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort. 
“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?” 
“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook. 
Damn him and his honorable ways.
Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”
First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread. 
Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”
The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.
“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.
In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”
This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.
“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”
Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”
“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.
You can’t give him your permission fast enough.
Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 
“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”
Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.
“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” 
Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.
Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”
Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.
You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.” 
An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.
A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”
You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit. 
Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”
You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.
As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.
Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”
As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body. 
Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”
In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.
Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.
“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”
“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter. 
“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”
Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!
“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”
You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat. 
Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…
Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.
You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”
Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”
The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.
Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.
“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”
Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”
He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”
You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.
“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 
You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers. 
Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.
“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.
As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”
With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”
 Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues. 
“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”
Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.
“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”
You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.
“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin. 
“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?” 
You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face. 
“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”
As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”
He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”
Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.
Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.
“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.
“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.
“Four… three…” 
Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.
Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core. 
“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.” 
His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.
 The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.
“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…” 
Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.
Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint. 
You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.
I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-
“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”
The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light. 
The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.
You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.
Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength. 
Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.
Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.
The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.
Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.
“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”
“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”
It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.” 
He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”
You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?
“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”
Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.
“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”
“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…” 
Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.
The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?
Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”
Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath. 
Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”
You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.” 
Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you. 
Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”
The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”
He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”
You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”
But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 
“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.
Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”
Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”
Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”
His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment. 
“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”
Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw. 
Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?
Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.” 
He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.
When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.
You pout. “So you have to go?” 
“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”
“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”
Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.
Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.
Tumblr media
159 notes · View notes
sinfulsalutations · 6 months
Text
𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 ⋆*・゚ 𝕧𝕚𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕓𝕠𝕓𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕥𝕥
⋆ ★ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2023 ʟɪɴᴇᴜᴘ
➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʙᴏʙᴀ ꜰᴇᴛᴛ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ʙᴏʙᴀ, ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀʟ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴘᴇɴɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀ ꜱᴇx, ʟᴏꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪʀɢɪɴɪᴛʏ
⋆ ★ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪʀʟɪᴇ ᴛᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴜꜱᴄʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴘʀᴇᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘɪᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴜꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʏ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ���ɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ʙᴏʙᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʙᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :)
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*・゚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ
Tumblr media
You’ve never felt this small before.
One of the most feared men in the galaxy is between your legs, holding you so softly and carefully as if you might shatter at any moment. Such a tactile man, hardened from years of battle, now rightfully in your arms, rightfully claiming you, in such a manner nothing else could’ve been destined.
“Oh…” It’s just a simple sigh, a gentle commendation of his slow, concentrated strokes with his tongue. You want to say more, tell Boba how good it feels, how good he’s making you feel, but you’re rendered to a simple blubber and string of words that pathetically make up fractured sentences and pleasant, flimsy moans. He rumbles between your thighs, the vibrations sending a shiver down your legs and making your toes curl every so slightly. You dig a heel into his shoulder.
Boba pulls away from your sopping cunt, swiping his tongue over his lips to gather your lingering taste there, and gazes up. His stare is surprisingly unusually sweet. Unusually tender.
“How are you feeling, little one?” He asks you, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your inner thighs, tantalizingly close to your outer lips. A hiss uncoils out of your tongue and your chest heaves with a heavy breath. Boba waits patiently.
“Really good, Boba.” You even make the gesture and effort to lean your body onto one hand instead of both, taking the free one to hold his cheek. The merciless bounty hunter melts in your hold; he turns his head to leave a firm kiss on your palm. Then your thumb. Then your index. He kisses each tip of your finger as you compose your next thoughts. “I feel really good.”
Something of a grin reaches his lips; it isn’t one typical of a regular man, but it’s a characteristically hardened expression that means all the more to you. It means he’s grateful, savoring each moment he has with you. Your heart swells and arousal pools.
He returns to the task beforehand; easy strokes of his tongue ease you back into the feeling before he trails a hand up, closer to your entrance where he hasn’t been before. As you feel the tip of the first knuckle undulate small, contained circles, you squeal quietly. Boba perks up.
“Do you want me to continue?”
It’s not a hard decision to make. You nod your head, adding a sweet ‘yes,’ voice just a little breather than before.
Boba’s hand glides over the top of your entrance, fingertips a phantom touch barely caressing your pussy, yet it’s enough to make you tremble. Then, he presses further. He makes his touch more purposeful.
Gathering dollops of wetness for a moment, rubbing the spend over one digit, before sliding it in slowly. Soothing yet nerve-wracking all the same.
But then, the finger is seated in you with little resistance. Little pain. You feel your warmth hug his appendage, keeping it firmly inside of you as you stretch just the slightest bit (yet more than you ever have), and sigh sweetly.
“Mm…” You hum, eyes fluttering close for a minute. The soft noise of praise you can’t distinguish and the featherlight peck on your inner thigh bring you back to the moment.
“Good job,” is all he says. Yet it’s all enough. You see in his gaze the fascination, the utter reverence in his stare that makes you want to curl up into yourself and scream into the sheets to never rise up again. But you keep your stare on him.
Boba lifts himself up, resting his knees between yours to spread you out further and join you on his expansive bed. As if you couldn’t relax any further, your shoulders practically sink into the mattress beneath you, and his eyes twinkle.
He must love this.
You’d hope so, at least.
“Hm, look at yourself, little one.” The praise sends you into another frenzy, breathing low in your stomach stagnated. “‘Getting stretched out nice and good. Taking my fingers like a good little princess.”
“Boba,” You sob quietly, feeling the digit sink deeper into you. Many times you’ve brought a release with your own fingers, but they’re nothing compared to his. Not as big, not as thick. He just manages to be gentle enough to leave you only slightly uncomfortable, yet the slow movement of his hand and wrist rocking back and forth, back and forth is already bringing you to the brink of orgasm.
Boba can feel it.
“How many fingers do you need, baby?”
You mouth something that he doesn’t seem to understand, instead deciding for you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear.
“Three?”
The only thing you can do is whine and rock your hips.
“Yeah, I think you do,” Boba answers his own question, pushing in a second finger with little resistance from your body and fucking you with his fingers steadily. “`Gonna need some stretching if you want me to deflower you.”
You just manage to stave off your orgasm until he gets a third finger in, leaving you positively soaked and stretched more than you’ve ever been before. Boba stays silent, breathing in his stomach while cradling the back of your head. His free hand tucks strands of hair behind your ear when you come down with soft sighs and hiccups. All the while, he talks; you’d never think he’d be talking in the bedroom as much as he does.
“Mm, you’re doing so well, little one.”
“Feeling okay? It’s okay if you can’t speak. Just nod, yes or no.”
“Nuh-uh. Just stay like that. Let me make this good for you.”
When you catch your breath, you see Boba’s already taken off the bottom part of his armor, leaving him just as bare as you. He meets you on the bed, pressing his knees on either side of your legs and resting your head on a plush pillow, bunching your hair to keep it out of your eyes. The simple considerate gesture has you reeling.
It’s still oddly blunt, nonetheless. Only the slimmest layer of sugary pleasantness coats his actions; you still see the hardened, rough, unrelenting man he is. But it’s in an entirely new light now. The roughness is all his way of handling you the way he wants, ensuring you’re satisfied and taken care of with no trace of unhappiness left in your body. In the determination, there is thoughtfulness.
Boba lines up the head of his cock at your entrance, forcing your chin to stop looking at where your bodies will meet and inevitably join and instead into his eyes.
“I’ll make you feel good, little one. I promise.” He seals the guarantee with a sweet kiss, holding your chin to angle your face properly. 
When he pulls away, he pushes barely an inch forward and you gasp, suddenly strung tight by nerves.
He’s incredibly gentle. But he doesn’t go slow.
The thick girth of his cock stretches your pussy out, even more than his fingers, unrushed and carefully, despite how taut he keeps his stomach. As you observe his face, you begin to question if Boba is even breathing.
Despite his caution and gingerly stretch, there’s still a twinge of pain that rushes through you. It’s washed, practically doused and drenched by your own arousal, your own wetness, and the deep, low, perpetual throbbing in your lower stomach.
Boba presses his forehead to yours and you finally hear him let out a deep exhale.
“That’s it,” he praises with a groan when you involuntarily clench, finally processing the new sensations all throughout your body.
Suddenly, you’re whining and hiding your face in his shoulder when he pulls out slightly, the slick link of your bodies causing a slight difficulty to disconnect. As he presses back in, your words are pathetically gracious, pure reverence as you take only a fraction of all Boba has to give you. One day you’ll be able to take it all. This is just the beginning. But this is already so much. So much you might just cry.
It’s still incredibly difficult to process that he not only chose you, but let you choose him.
So you whine out,
“Thank you.”
Tumblr media
ragu list: @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @meshlaxbunny @kimiheartblade @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @andrakass2 @crosshairlovebot @wizardofrozz @lickylickylicky @urmomsmattress @who-would-want-a-broken-heart @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @eyeluvmusic21 @mythical-illustrator @imarvelatthestars
277 notes · View notes
flordeamatista · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡ Spooky Month Fic Recs ⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡
────────────────────────────
⋆˙⟡ These are some of the most captivating stories from September and October
⋆˙⟡ I wasn't able to create a September rec, I included these fics with my October rec.
⋆˙⟡ All blogs and daydreams listed below are 18+
⋆˙⟡ You are responsible for the media you consume
⋆˙⟡ Whenever you reblog a fic, you are sending flowers to the writer
Tumblr media
Bucky Barnes
Might Even Be @slyyywriting
Haunted @targaryenvampireslayer
QB!Bucky @angrythingstarlight
Mafia!Bucky Bumblebee AU [1, 2, 3,] @^
What If Scenario (Mafia Bucky) @^
Caring for Bucky @^
A Dash of Spice and Everything Nice @/jobean12-blog
Striptease @writing-for-marvel
Mile High Club @^
Distracted @sunshinebuckybarnes
Tumblr media
Stucky
Broken Pieces @syntheticavenger
Of Monsters and the Damned @slyyywriting
Tumblr media
Lee Bodecker
Dark Lee Drabble @wheezy-stucky
Most Important Meal @navybrat817
Betrayal @welight-theway
Deserving @vonalyn
The Tears on Ivory @shadeysprings
No Way Out @^
Devil Devil @sgt-seabass
Lights Out @vellicore
Tumblr media
Wanda Maximoff
Milk @syntheticavenger
Tumblr media
Carol Danvers
All That Power @syntheticavenger
Talk To Me @^
Tumblr media
Miguel O’Hara
The (un)Invited @wint3r-h3art
Tumblr media
Thor
Hide and Seek @syntheticavenger
Patience @boxofbonesfic
Tumblr media
Ari Levinson
 Beauty Wrought of Rapture and Desire @the-iceni-bitch
Biker!Ari @angrythingstarlight
Tumblr media
Curtis Everet
Sweetest Thing [1] @geminixevans-stan
Tumblr media
Andy Barber
Devil in the Details Part 2 @/syntheticavenger
By the Pound @^
Ticking Clock: Fourteen @^
Time To Go Home @sunshinebuckybarnes
Tumblr media
Lloyd Hansen
Chocking & Spitting @/vellicore
Tumblr media
Joel Miller
Thrills @moonlight-prose
Dressed to Impress @jobean12-blog
Can't Keep my Hands to Myself @^
Tumblr media
Boba Fett
Bondage @flightlessangelwings
Tumblr media
Frankie Morales
Throttled Control @wildemaven
Tumblr media
Frankie Morales & Santiago Garcia
Tag-Teaming @fettuccin-e
Tumblr media
Marc Spector
Parasitic @inklore
Tumblr media
Ragnar Lothbrok
Heimta [1, 2]
Tumblr media
The Beast
With a Heavy Heart I'll Guide This Dagger @darksideofthecocoamoon
124 notes · View notes
acatalystrising · 9 months
Text
Alriiiight! As I promised to @daimyosprincess - here at long last is Small Favors! This fic…sheesssshhh, this fic. It almost destroyed me! It’s absolute pure filth borne of one too many days of Boba brain rot, so buckle up, people!
Enjoy the ride! 🫠😉
(Zwei, this basically ended up being dedicated to you after all the lovely prof Boba content you’ve been giving us. I hope it lives up to your expectations! 💚🖤)
TW: NSFW, minors dni. This contains smut - predator/prey, fingering, dirty talk, pre-discussed non-consensual sex, piv, f!receiving, bondage, dom!Boba, pet names, teasing, slight degradation, all the usual suspects 🙃
Tumblr media
Small Favors
The day Boba Fett called you a hellion, you were pretty certain it altered your brain chemistry.
To make things worse? He’d said it on his way out of the door, dressed in full armor, heading down to the throne room for yet another day of rulership.
Leaving you alone to ruminate on his words.
That simply wouldn’t do. You tried to be his good girl - lounging on his bed, boredly counting the cracks in the ceiling, doing as you’d been told…but where was the fun in that? You couldn’t help but let your imagination take over, wandering to a particular scenario that had intrigued you as of late.
Oh, the Daimyo was strong. Powerful, capable of overpowering you in seconds despite your best attempts to put up a fight. You could never forget it, no matter how many times he pleasured you senseless. But it made you wonder…
You knew how Boba the Daimyo handled you. But…how would Boba the bounty hunter? The mere thought of your love hunting you down like prey sent thrills coursing through you. But you’d been hesitant to mention it, given how many times he’d openly stated those days were behind him.
But the day was crawling miserably by, the hours even longer, and you needed a distraction. You knew you’d probably regret it, even as you stood and got dressed. But right now, you felt like doing something dangerous.
You were going to play with fire.
-
You were merciful (or smart) enough to wait for his last visitor to leave for the day, but not a moment longer. You struck before he had the chance to get up.
Boba still sat on his throne, powerful thighs spread like an invitation too good to refuse, as you made your way to him. His eyes followed your every step, hunger unabashedly flaring in his amber gaze.
But instead of sitting in his lap as he surely expected, you skirted around the throne, tracing a lone nail along his armor as you walked behind him. He reached for you, but you dodged his fingers with a smirk, tapping the back of his head instead.
“See you’re in a teasing mood.” His voice was gruff, tinged with exhaustion from the day’s tedious events, but you pressed on, still staying right out of his reach.
“I don’t don’t know what you mean,” you tapped his pauldron with another grin, and he shifted to face you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
“What game are you playing at, little one?” He patted his thigh, a command he expected to be obeyed. “Been a long day.”
Oh, you were at war. You knew it was probably in your best interest to do as he said, and he was tired, after all. Perhaps he’d be too tired to play along. But…you didn’t want to throw your plan out the window just yet.
“Maybe you need some exercise. Wouldn’t want your skills to go to waste.” You raised a brow, stepping around the armrest and stopping before him, still out of his direct range. “Why don’t you come get me?”
Boba arched a dark brow, gaze locked on you, completely still. You realized a moment too late he was waiting for you to continue. Either that, or calculating his next move. Probably both. It sent a thrill coursing through you.
“I…”
“What’s this about, hmm?” He crossed his broad arms over his even broader chest, heaving a deep breath that flexed his beskar plates as he fixed you with a quizzical expression bordering intrigue. “Wanna play hard to get? We both know how that would go.”
Ahh, there it was, your golden ticket. That, or the action that would seal your doom. At this point, you’d already committed, and it was too late to back out, now.
“I don’t think you could catch me, old man.” You smirked, hands on your hips, looking at up at him with a raised brow. “You’re a Daimyo now. Lots and lots of sitting. You’re bound to lose your edge.”
Oh, you knew you were asking for trouble.
Boba regarded you evenly, a small smirk working its way on the corner of his lip. Those thick, skillful, beautiful lips. Oh, he did too.
“Is that so?” He looked down at you, eyes narrowing imperceptibly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Ahh, so he was humoring you. Good. “So confident today, mesh’la.”
You had the audacity, or stupidity depending on who you asked, to spit your tongue out at him. Him, Boba Fett. You were probably one of the few that ever could and live to tell the tale.
“Definitely.” You made a dramatic show of shrugging, making sure you leaned forward just enough to let the low neckline of your shirt do its job. “In fact, I don’t even think it would be hard. I’m fast, cunning too. I bet I’d even be able to outsmart the greatest bounty hunter who ever-”
Boba was on you in an instant, and you couldn’t help but loose a shriek as you were pulled into his lap before you could blink. Damn, that was quick. Quicker than when you had anticipated. And you’d thought you’d given him a wide enough berth. He curled his arms around you, pinning you to his armored chest, and pressed his face against your neck, breath hot and scalding - voice low like the thunder of an oncoming storm.
“Wanna flirt with death, little one?” He nibbled your earlobe between his teeth, a low growl rumbling from the depths of his throat, sending heat pooling between your legs. “Fine. But we both know you’re biting off more than you can chew.”
Oh kriffing gods.
You somehow managed to pull two halves of a thought together to form a sentence.
“Wanna test that? Give me two days. Bet you can’t catch me.” You shot him a smirk and shrugged. “Who knows, it could be fun.”
“And what would I get in return?” Boba’s voice was cold, calculating. Calculating, as he watched you, eyes narrowed, studying your blown out pupils and shallow breaths. He had to know you found this arousing. Especially if his hunter senses were still keen.
“Anything,” you confidently met his gaze, even as his grip on you tightened. “Anything you want.”
He fell silent for a moment, chest heaving, heart thundering beneath the beskar. A sly smirk curved on the corner of his lip, accompanied with a cutting gleam in his eyes, and it was then that you realized you were screwed.
“Anything.” He mirrored, dipping his head to meet your neck, sucking a bite on your pulse point. You bit back a moan despite your best efforts, far too keenly aware as one of his hands slid down your side and settling on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. “But you’ve already given me everything, mesh’la. Why would I risk losing what is already mine?”
Oh maker, he was playing with you. Making this harder than necessary. Punishing you for disobeying him.
“Umm, I…” you swallowed hard as his hand slipped between your legs, stifling another moan as he slowly, gently, torturously caressed your clothed clit. Gods, this wasn’t how you’d expected this to go. “I…just thought it would be fun, ya know? I’m always…maker…always wanting to try new things with you.”
He hummed, kissing your neck again, then your ear, your cheek, and finally your lips. He kissed you like a starved man, greedily nipping at your lips, tongue carving a path into your mouth, claiming you as his. He slipped his hand underneath your pants, your underwear the only barrier, deft fingers already bringing that coiling heat closer to the surface. You bucked against him, chasing his fingers, and he kept you flush with his chest with a growl.
“So my little princess wants to be hunted, hmm?” He had the audacity to lick a stripe up your neck as he circled your arching clit. “She wants to be hunted like a bounty? Like prey? That what you really want, little one? To feel helpless? Trapped with nowhere to go? Darling, I’ll show you helpless.”
You could only nod, a whimper breaking from your throat when he slowed his movements, delaying your pleasure. It nearly brought tears to your eyes. Dammit, this was supposed to be your game, not his, and yet you found yourself unraveling in his clutches yet again.
“Please, please don’t stop. I’ll do anything, I’d let you do anything,” you pressed against him with a whine, meeting his waiting gaze as you made your plea. “Fuck me bound. Even if I said no. Make me yours, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I just want…wanna…”
You fell silent, embarrassment flaring your cheeks, but you should have known that he wouldn’t let you get away with silence. His free hand gripped your chin and tilted your face up to meet his, just forcefully enough to make his point.
“Say it.”
There was no room for disobedience now. Not when you were literally at his mercy. Not when his command rolled through you, making you tremble with excitement.
“I want you to hunt me.” You forced yourself to speak, even as his eyes darkened, his fingers slowly caressing you again. “Chase me down, and capture me. Use me as you see fit. That’s…that’s what I want.”
He chuckled darkly, the sound echoing on the stone walls, as he zeroed in on your clit again, your pleasure nearly bubbling to the surface.
“So much begging, poor princess,” his voice was a mocking coo as he wrung the pleasure out of you, your vision going white, jaw slack as your orgasm hit with the force of a speeding train. “You’ll have one day, sweet thing. One day to run, and when it’s over, you’ll be begging me to come for you.”
-
You should have believed him.
Should have realized how hard he’d make this for you. But you’d been confidently foolish, going so far as to travel off world to some backwater forest planet on a neighboring system - albeit sparely populated…just to be safe.
But as the minutes had ticked to hours, and hours into the evening, there still had been no sign of your hunter. Whether this was because he was toying with you, or you’d actually given him the slip, you didn’t know - but you pressed on anyway. And as the cerulean sky faded to lilac and crimson hues, you started to worry.
You’d taken a one way trip to get here, even hired a smuggler to fly you. Anything to make it more exciting. More real.
But perhaps you’d gone too far.
You couldn’t help but feel a sliver of worry cut through your chest. Maybe you’d been overconfident, going to such lengths. What if he had lost his edge? What if he couldn’t find you? You’d be stuck alone, on a strange planet, with nothing but a short range commlink to try to call for help.
Stars, you also missed him. Missed his voice, his touch. You’d underestimated how quickly you’d tire of his absence - and as you slipped through the trees, slowing to a leisurely walk, you finally let your guard down, too lost in your whirling thoughts to keep playing the game you insisted on from the start.
The shadows had crept over the foliage, enshrouding the trees in darkness, hiding the armor that would have otherwise glinted in the sun.
You didn’t seem him until it was too late.
Strong arms suddenly wrenched yours behind your back, throwing you off balance and against a nearby tree. Your scream broke the silence, unheard in the miles of uncharted wilderness, unable to break free from the vise like grip clamping down on your wrists.
Boba’s breath flared hot like blaster fire on your cheek as he pushed you against the tree. The rough bark bit into your skin, only a minor fleeing pain, the true cause for your panic currently locking your arms behind your back in a vice like grip.
“Really thought you’d give me the slip, hmm?” His deep voice was rough and staticky with the helmet, tone absolutely deadly as he lifted his binders to your wrists. “Poor little girl.”
You clenched your legs at that - unable to stop the reaction from pushing your brain off the edge, diving into a freefall. Damn it, not yet. You couldn’t let him have his victory this easy. You had to be more of a challenge, flustered brain or not.
“Let. Me. Go!” You twisted in his grasp, tucking up your legs and lashing out with a kick to his chest.
He grunted, the force of your attack pushing him back a few centimeters - just enough space for you to work with. You broke free, heart locked in your throat, and spun around the tree to give you some distance.
You knew you couldn’t win. He was the better fighter in every way - an opponent you’d never once been able to beat, despite your own skill. But just because you knew you were going to lose didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.
The trees whipped past in a blur as you carved a wild, desperate path deeper into the foliage. All was silent save for the crashing of your boots through the fallen leaves - the first warning that you were doomed. The second warning came too late.
A sharp prick bit into your shoulder, and your reflexes reacted too late - a scream stuck in your throat when a whipcord whipped around your body - throwing you to the ground. You could already feel the effects of the tranquillized taking over - vision blurring at the edges even as you still struggled in vain. Even as Boba stepped into your rapidly fading sight, armor glinting in the sunlight.
“Careful, little mouse,” his voice was cutting, sinfully victorious, as he knelt beside you. Kriffing hell, you knew he was smirking underneath that damn helmet. “Wouldn��t want you getting hurt. You’re worth more alive.”
You felt the moment the binders slapped on your wrists, sealing your fate…
And then your vision went dark.
-
By the time you awoke, the Slave 1 was already well in sight.
You were slung over Boba’s shoulder like a carcass, arms and legs limply dangling, mind still buzzing from the sedative he’d given you. You tried to open your mouth to speak, but your words were a pathetic slur.
He either didn’t hear you, or was ignoring you. You could feel the strength of him, muscles coiled underneath armor - all sinew and power. He held you with one arm, but you knew you’d never escape, that large gloved hand locked around your neck. You whimpered as the ramp lowered, ushering you both inside - inside to whatever fate he had planned for you. It closed, sealing you both in, and dooming you.
You couldn’t help but feel a thrill as he unceremoniously dropped you to the ground, right outside the cells. You wondered if he’d cage you in one to make the experience more real, but Boba seemed to have other ideas. He grabbed your bound arms and drug you across the floor, ignoring your shrieks of protest when he stopped in the center of the cargo hold.
Boba was quiet - he hadn’t said a word since your capture, and part of you wondered if it was part of the act, or if it was truly upset at the lengths you’d gone to evade him. So, you tried to take matters into your own hands.
“Please, I didn’t do anything wrong. I bet of you, let me go!” Your broken voice was truthfully cracked, parched after your strenuous day. “I’ll do anything, I swear I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Boba Fett had the audacity to ignore you. In fact, he turned his back on you, lifting his gauntlet to key in a code. A mixture of indignation and embarrassment flooded your chest, prompting your next move.
“I know you can hear me under there, bucket head.” You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Or are you as deaf as you are dumb?”
“You know what you did.” His voice was low like thunder - cutting. A very different tone than the one he oh so often used with you.
This…this was entirely different. Excitement mixed with fear coursed down your spine as he slowly turned, that black t-visor locked on you with deadly focus.
But you wouldn’t be deterred that easily.
“What exactly did I do, huh?” You would have crossed your arms if you could. Instead, you opted to dramatically shrug. “Shouldn’t be too hard to list off my crimes. That is, if big words aren’t too much for a brute like you.”
Boba lunged forward with the speed of a viper, taking you entirely by surprise when his fingers gripped your chin, absolutely wrenching your face up to meet his - albeit hidden behind that helmet. And you were starting to realize why many would find it so terrifying. Heart hammering in your chest, you whimpered when his fingers squeezed your jaw, effectively clamping your mouth shut.
“Mouthy little brat, aren’t you?” His helmet was inches away, your panting breaths fogging the visor as he lowered his hand from your jaw to your neck. “Could just put you away in a cell. Would be what you deserve. But I might have to teach you a lesson.”
Oh gods. You swallowed, hard, and couldn’t resist the urge to wriggle beneath him, breaths growing shallower by the moment.
“You? Teach me a lesson? In your dreams.” You had the audacity to roll your eyes, spitting out your tongue to goad him further. “Sorry, but I have standards. I don’t fuck trigger happy bounty hunters.”
Boba Fett had the audacity to chuckle. A deep, dark chuckle that rumbled through your chest and tingled down your spine. Oh shit…you were in trouble. Big trouble.
“Is that so?” He gave your neck a squeeze, his free hand gripping your binders with another dark snicker. “Poor little kitten’s trying to give me orders? Ironic.”
His hand left your throat, and you yelped as he single-handedly picked you up by the binders, lifting you into the air, and pinned you against the ship’s wall. He magnetized the binders with a soft buzz, then left you dangling there - your toes barely able to touch the floor.
“What the hell?” You huffed, straining to reach the ground, heartbeat hammering so loudly you could barely concentrate, even as you felt his gloved fingers caress your jawline. “Let me down! Stop this, I mean it. Let me go, you kriffing jerk!”
Boba ignored you, helmet titling slowly to the side as if tracking his own journey tracing your neck until it stopped just above your shirt.
“You asked for this, little one.” His tone was impossibly husky, dark and rich like spotchka on the back of your throat. “You have a choice, kitten. You can either fight me, or…”
His hand slipped under your shirt, burrowing beneath your bra, and caressing your nipple with deft, skilled fingers.
“Choose to enjoy it.” He pinched your nipple too hard, and you yelped, thrashing even as he slowed back to a caress. “Your choice - but you’re not getting out of this.”
“N-no, please,” you tried to shy away, but he wouldn’t have it, pinning you to the wall with one hand, the other lifting from your shirt and wandering ever so slowly lower. “I’ll…comply. I’ll do anything. Just…please don’t hurt me.”
He chuckled, hand settling just above your crotch.
“Still giving orders, hmm? That’s not how this works.” He deftly unzipped your pants and slipped his hand into your waiting heat, a dry hiss emitting from his vocoder when he found the evidence of your arousal. “Dirty, dirty girl. Getting off on this? My, my.”
He circled your aching clit, and you cried out, trying to arch against him, breaths coming in near choked gasps as he quickly worked you towards oblivion. Damn, his patience must have flown out of the window. Perhaps he…
Just when you were on the precipice, Boba pulled his hand away. You cried out on frustration, heart pounding like a drum when he dropped his hands to his own pants, pulling his weeping cock free from its confines.
“Little kitten looks like she wants milk.” His voice was a sinister coo as he ran his thick shaft through your slick. “Poor baby.”
You whined - you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your chest when his fingers once again found your clit, wringing your pleasure back to the surface. But yet again, when you were on so close, he pulled away.
“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast.” He raised his hand to your mouth, and you begrudgingly licked your arousal off his gloves. “You’ll come only when I tell you too. Can you be a good girl and do that?”
“Boba…I…” you writhed, pleading, but he promptly removed his hand from your clit with a growl.
“Didn’t give you permission to say my name,” his voice was all thunder and hellfire even as he seated himself in you with one brutal thrust. “It’s Sir to you.”
Your eyes widened, moans bouncing off the durasteel walls as he pounded into you, somehow feeling even bigger than normal. Your hands clattered uselessly against the wall, pleasure arcing up your spine as a steady heat grew in the pit of your stomach.
You cried out when he changed the angle, his cock hitting that deep spot that made you see stars. You writhed against him, legs wrapping around his back, trying to force him deeper. He growled, not slowing his pace in the slightest, and you whimpered when a hand reached up and tweaked a nipple.
“Bo-Sir…I…I’m,” you hated how pathetic you sounded, begging like some weak willed thing. But you felt it, your orgasm approaching like a speeding train, and there would be little you could do to stop it. “I’m…so close. Can I, can I…”
“I don’t know, not sure you deserve it,” he slowed his pace to a torturous crawl, slowly sliding through you, the wet sounds painfully loud in your ears even as you cried out in frustration. “Got your manners yet, little one? Have you learned your lesson?”
Oh Maker, he was torturing you. This was not how you had expected this to go - this was calculated, focused, intentional.
“I’m…I’m sorry. So sorry. P-please…” tears pricked your eyes, and you swore he was driving you absolutely mad, edging you with a calculated skill he hadn’t done before. “I take it all back. I’ll be good…I’ll behave. Just please, please…”
He pulled nearly out of you, helmet pressed against your shoulder, rasping voice directly in your ear.
“Please…what?” He stopped moving entirely until the only sound that could be heard was your desperate panting.
“Please, please let me come.” A tear slipped down your cheek, more from the building denial than anything else. “I’ll…I’ll be a good girl. Your girl.”
Boba grunted, pounding back into you with renewed vigor, one hand finding your neck, the other, your clit. He fucked you relentlessly - your back slamming into the wall as the edges of your vision dimmed.
When you finally came, your vision went completely white - all sound reduced to a ringing as burning hot pleasure seared you to your core. You screamed, writhing against him even as he continued driving into you, less focused and more reckless, chasing his own high.
“There you go, kitten.” His voice was dark with lust, armor flashing in the dim lighting. “Not so hard, hmm?”
When he came, it was with a deep groan that reverberated into your chest. He had you pressed against the wall, helmet against your neck, breaths rasping as he finally slowed to a stop.
For a moment, all was silent save both of your panting breaths. Boba was completely still, and for a moment, you worried he was genuinely angry. Had you gone too far? Had you done something wrong? Had you-
His hands reached up and unlocked your binders, catching you before you could fall to the floor. You couldn’t help but cling to him as he carried you to the cockpit, gently laying you in the small cot.
“You okay, my love?” His voice had regained some of its warmth, but still carried a dark edge. “Hope I wasn’t too rough with you.”
“I’m okay,” you nodded, meeting the visor with a small smile. “You weren’t. I’m honestly impressed you found me so quickly.”
He grunted, sitting beside you, gloved hand slowly caressing your hair.
“Didn’t expect you to leave Tatooine.” The helmet tilted in your direction. “You had me worried, little one.”
Oh stars. Had you gone too overboard? It hasn’t crossed your mind that Boba Fett would be afraid.
“Oh…I’m so sorry,” you curled into his chest, holding him close. “I’d only wanted to make it realistic. I didn’t want to worry you.”
“It’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “Only startled me initially. Gotta admit it was fun, watching you trying to give me the slip. It was cute.”
Wait a second.
You narrowed your eyes as he removed his helmet, mirth shining in his own.
“Exactly how soon had you found me?” You tilted your head to meet his gaze.
“Oh, little princess,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, and finally, your lips. “You never left my sight.”
Taglist: @daimyosprincess @hideflen @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @marierg @deewithani @rain-on-kamino @rexxdjarin @ceapa-mica @bobathirstaccount @dukeoftheblackstar
184 notes · View notes
flightlessangelwings · 6 months
Text
Ktober 2023 Day 6- Bondage
Tumblr media
Boba Fett x fem!reader
Word count- 1k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), restrains, dom!Boba, established relationship, no use of y/n
Notes- Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!
Tumblr media
~
“Do you trust me, my love?” Boba purred.
“Yes,” you breathed.
“Good.”
You looked up at him from your position on the bed as he peered down at you with pride. Boba had chained you to the bed, your wrists and ankles bound to the four corners, holding your body open and exposed. Your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“My love, you have never looked more beautiful,” Boba praised as he leaned forward and kissed you deeply. He cradled your head as he devoured you, and his cock stiffened at the sound of the chains rattling when you tried to move.
He let out a soft laugh as his bare hands roamed all over your chest, giving your breasts a firm squeeze. You dropped your head back and loudly moaned as his calloused hands grazed across your nipples. Arching your back into his touch, you silently begged for more.
“Eager already, love?” Boba teased as he broke away from your body to admire you once more.
“Please, Boba,” you begged.
“Shh, in time, love,” he said as he stood up, “All in good time,” he cooed as he slowly removed his armor and clothing. Boba enjoyed making you wait like this, and even when you just let out little whines, he could tell you were eager. And he felt your heavy, needy gaze on him at all times.
When Boba turned back to you, he was just as bare as you were, and his cock stood at full attention. You whimpered and strained in your chains as you involuntarily tried to reach for him.
“Boba…”
“Oh I like it when you beg for me, love,” his tone dropped as he kneeled on the bed between your bound, spread legs.
“Please,” you pleased more, hoping to get sympathy from him.
“Patience, love,” he purred as his hands ghosted along your legs. Starting at your hips, he trailed along your inner thighs out to your calves and reaching the shackles at your ankles before he ran his hands back towards your pussy.
You moaned as you felt his warm hands get closer and closer to where you wanted him to touch you, but let out a heavy sigh when he skipped your cunt and instead ran his hands up your stomach and cupped your breasts once more.
Any disappointment you had vanished when he kneaded your breasts with his hands, and then leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth. You cried out in pleasure as you tugged at your restraints while Boba’s tongue swirled around your nipple. You writhed and squirmed as much as you could, but Boba tied you tightly to the bed, greatly restricting your movements.
“Fuck! Boba!”
He hummed as he kissed his way along your chest and sucked at your other nipple even harder, Boba used his teeth to graze the sensitive skin slightly a few times before he flicked it with his tongue once more. His cock screamed at him to fuck you- Boba loved when you were loud and needy for him like this- but he had other plans in mind for you tonight. His own pleasure would wait.
Breaking away with a loud pop, Boba murmured your name and waited for you to open your eyes. “You’ve been a good girl, my love,” he hummed in a tone that made your pussy clench, “And you look so deliciously tempting like this…” his voice trailed off as his eyes landed on your dripping cunt.
“Boba…” you murmured.
Instead of teasing you more with slow movements, Boba launched himself into your pussy, immediately licking and sucking at your clit. You screamed and tried to move your hips at the sudden assault, but the bonds kept you still and you were wonderfully helpless against Boba’s expert tongue.
Boba groaned into you as he devoured you. The chains rattled as you squirmed while his tongue explored your pussy, and the sounds mixed with your moans only turned Boba on more. 
“Fuck! Boba!” you cried out in pleasure as your mind swam. Heat built up in your body as your limbs shook in your restraints. You were helpless to move to free yourself, both from your binds and Boba’s mouth, and you didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Boba broke away for a moment with a deep and heavy breath. He looked at you and you collapsed down onto the mattress and your breasts rose and fell as you also caught your breath. You looked stunning.
“Love, you are a meal fit for a king,” Boba growled before he dove into you again.
“Oh fuck!” you screamed in pleasure as Boba’s assault on your clit with his tongue resumed. 
He ran his tongue along your folds before he dipped it into you, tasting you from the inside and thrusting his tongue in and out a few times. With a needy groan, he placed his hands on your thighs to pin you down even more as he darted his tongue up and wrapped his lips around your clit.
Sucking hard, Boba hummed into your pussy and savored the cry you let out as tears formed in your eyes.
“Boba! Please! You’re gonna make me cum,” you moaned as your legs trembled.
All he did was groan into you as his cock throbbed with need, but Boba couldn’t break away from you. The sounds of your whimpers mixed with the chains was music to his ears and he devoured you with fervor.
With just a few more licks, you fell apart as you came hard into Boba’s mouth with a loud scream. He growled something that sounded like your name mixed with incoherent preside while he sucked every ounce of your climax from you until you let out a soft whimper.
Boba broke away reluctantly, but he was rewarded with the sight of you lost in pleasure and bound to the bed. He was wrong earlier, now you had never looked more beautiful.
“Love, I have a confession to make,” Boba’s tone was low as he licked his lips.
You blocked your eyes open and felt a wave of nerves from the way he looked at you with such admiration.
“I still need more,” Boba groaned as he hovered over you once more. 
“Boba…” you whined as you tried to wriggle free.
“What? Have somewhere to be?” Boba teased as he tugged at your restraints. 
You were in for a long and wonderful night.
125 notes · View notes
eyecandyeoz · 7 months
Text
Vader × Fett😈
Tumblr media
ID: To go with my multipart VaderFett oneshot(Part I/ Part II/ Part III), I decided to draw some much needed fan art for it in the form of a lightly shaded pencil style sketch. The scene above appears at the end of part one and into part two, where Vader uses his thumb to push Boba down by the mouth while Boba grabs his cape. I didn't write the lightsaber being ignited in my fic, but I thought that having it deployed here was too perfect not to draw.🥴 Tap for higher quality. 👆
This is dedicated to @dukeoftheblackstar for planting the idea in my brain in the first place. I love you, boo boo. You're such an enabling slut* and that's why we are besties.
Digital Art Masterlist - Commission Me ✨ - My Rates
If you like this, consider getting one for yourself! Commissions are open and live on my Kofi or simply send me a DM!☑️
Taglist: @captxin-rex @gospelofme @fangirl-goes-nova @romanoffs-gf @itsjml @sstarwarsss @r2d2staser @nahoney22 @ashotofspotchka @art-of-the-twistedstitcher @only-a-simp-deals-in-absolutes @justalittletomato @twiggoblin @xsherryberryx @kriffclone @mustluvecho @deewithani @tinker-tech @megafrost4 @minx067 @storm89 @boontaeveboba @ahoeformando @arctrooper69 @taz-107 @lizzowinkyface @chad-something @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @nonsenseandm3mes @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @succulent-momma @virtualexpertanchor @padawancat97 @amorfista @hurtbywhisperedmuses @misogirl828 @seriowan @plushymiku-blog @the-dathomirian-jedi @ladykatakuri @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @dukeoftheblackstar
130 notes · View notes
starwarsficnetwork · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Boba Fett Writers
Banner by the lovely @theywhowriteandknowthings
Writers! Tag us or use the hashtag #starwarsficnetwork to be featured! But please have your age/age range in your bio. If you’d like to be removed, send us a dm!
*will be updated regularly*
Listed in alphabetical order:
@acatalystrising
@bobathirstaccount
@daimyosprincess
@flightlessangelwings
@imarvelatthestars
@janghoefett
@lamaenthel
@maybege
@moodymisty
@pickleprickle
@proxima-writes
@rexxdjarin
@saradika
@thirsty-boba-fett-posts
@writingwintermoon
@zinzinina
@100lxtters
98 notes · View notes
firstofficerwiggles · 11 months
Note
Thot weekend!!!
Okay I've been in a mood recently really wanting to just give Boba some love. He deserves it. He deserves some softness in his life, someone to help soothe his aches and massage some of the tension out of his shoulders and maaaaaybe sit in his lap while he's conducting business. Because why not.
Yesssss, I could not agree more that Boba deserves all the love and affection. I honestly think he has the most tragic story in all of Star Wars (although Cassian Andor could give him a run for his money there). Boba needs someone to dote on him endlessly, he’s never had anyone like that in his life. Also I like that Thot Weekend is off to a theme with lap sitting. With that said, let’s give our dear Daimyo some sweet tender care…
Pairing: Boba Fett x female reader
Rating: T
Ever since Daimyo Fett hired you to run the palace household, you’ve felt this pull towards him, a desire to not only take care of this large edifice, but also its owner. Outwardly, Boba Fett is a fearsome, hardened warrior. Clad in his trademark green, red, and yellow armor and positively covered in weaponry, he can make even the largest of beings shiver in their boots. Yet, seeing him at home, you’ve been privileged to see a softer, kinder side to him. 
You’ve been privy to many small details that have shown you there’s much more to Boba Fett. There’s the way he laughs when Fennec makes one of her brutally cutting remarks, the way he pats one of the kids on the shoulder in a gesture of praise during training, or even the way he treats his rancor as if it is the sweetest baby in the galaxy. If you’re honest though, your favorite soft Boba moment is when he smiles at you. It’s not a smirk, or a grimace, no. It’s a true, beautiful smile that he gifts to you whenever you do him even the smallest of favors. His smile lights up his entire handsome face and it makes you feel so special to know that you’re the reason for it. Is it any wonder that you’re half in love with the man? 
So when you bring him his dinner, you’re surprised when he doesn’t even look up at you. He’s sitting there, shoulders slumped, frown etched into his face, and his hands in fists, and you wonder what could have happened to put him in such a sour mood. You finish serving dinner, filling his wine glass, and making sure he has everything he needs, but he doesn’t seem to even notice you’re there. He sighs and you’re certain you can feel the weight of the entire system on his shoulders.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Daimyo Fett? Anything at all?” you inquire softly. 
“Ah, hello, my dear housekeeper,” he greets you, and finally lifts his head to meet your eyes. He gives you a weary smile, “You are kind to offer, but I’m afraid this situation is one that I cannot ask you to help me with.”
“Well, perhaps, I can’t help you with your work,” you reply, “But, I could help you feel better, if you’d be willing to let me try?”
Boba gives you a saucy look at that, and raises one eyebrow, “I suppose that depends on what you’d like to try, beautiful?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Daimyo Fett,” you say, laughing lightly at his teasing tone, “I was thinking more of a neck and shoulder massage. You look like you need it.”
“You’d still be touching me, so it’s got that going for it. Let’s give it a try,” he chuckles, “I do like that you anticipate my needs. Oh, but how many times do I need to ask you to call me Boba?”
“At least once more, Daimyo Fett,” you murmur demurely as you move to stand behind him.
Your hands start to knead and manipulate the strong muscles in his neck and shoulders. He’s clearly aggravated and very stiff to the touch. Soon though, you feel the knots begin to loosen as your fingers circle into his body. You work your way up the tightened tendons in his neck, easing the pain at the base of his skull. Then you glide your hands back down, soothing away the aches in his shoulders and upper back. As he becomes more pliant under your working hands, Boba starts to let out soft little sounds, almost moaning, and you can tell he’s finally starting to relax. 
“I didn’t know you had such magic hands, sweetheart,” he praises you, tilting his head to the side to give you better access to a particularly knotted spot on the side of his neck. His eyes are closed and he hums in pleasure as you feel the knot finally release.
“I’m pleased you think so, sir,” you respond, “I’m glad to see you feeling better. I hate seeing you so agitated and dispirited.”
He opens his eyes to look up at you with a beaming smile, “I had no idea you were so concerned with my feelings, my dear.”
The frankness of his expression makes your stomach flutter, “Of course I care about you, Daimyo Fett, I want you to be happy, it’s what you deserve.”
Boba’s hand comes up to cover one of yours where it sits on his shoulder, “You’re very sweet to be so caring. Did you care so strongly about your last employer?”
“No, I can’t say that I did,” you admit to him, your cheeks feeling hot as he scrutinizes your face.
“Hmm,” he replies, noncommittally. 
Gently, he lifts your hand from his shoulder, and brings it to his mouth. You feel his lips brush over your palm in a delicate kiss. When you don’t pull away, he does it again. 
“I think I know something that would make me even happier,” Boba tells you, his voice hopeful.
“What’s that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Come back around here, and I’ll show you,” he says, releasing your hand and motioning for you to come forward.
When you step around to face him, he gives you a rather naughty smile, much more flirtatious than normal. Holding your eye, he pats his lap and nods to you.
“Well, if it would make you happy, how can I say no?” You give him your own naughty smile in return and sit down carefully in his lap. 
“Oh yes, this vastly improves my mood,” Boba quips, pulling you close to his body with one hand, while his other comes up to hold your chin. 
“Is there anything else you need? Something else to make you happy?” Your tone is light and a little coy.
He chuckles, “I like it when you flirt with me, beautiful, but there is something else.” You see his eyes flick down to your mouth before capturing your gaze again.
“I think I know exactly what you need,” you reply, before leaning in to press your lips to his. 
Your first kiss with Boba is surprisingly sweet, your lips moving with his, gently learning the feel of each other. You never would have expected such softness from him, showing you yet again that he is a man of many layers. Even as his tongue licks against your lip, so that he can deepen the kiss, he does so in such a tender way that you feel as if you are melting into him. You could stay like this for hours, locked in his embrace. However, fate, and Fennec, have other plans,
“Ahem, we have a business meeting about to begin, Daimyo,” she states wryly. 
“Oh, e- excuse me,” you stammer, feeling like a kid with her hand caught in a cookie jar. You move to get off Boba’s lap, but his arm keeps you from standing.
“Uh-uh, no need for that,” Boba states jauntily, “I need to be in my very best mood for this meeting, and I can think of no better way than for you to stay right where you are.”
“Are you sure, Boba? I don’t want to disrupt your business,” you respond.
He beams at you, “You did offer to help, and I think this is an excellent way for you to do that.” 
“I did say I’d do anything for you,” you agree, and you settle into his lap once again.
He steals another kiss and drops his voice to a whisper, “But later, I want to see what else those magic hands can do.”
Tumblr media
Send in your thots! We're thotting all weekend long
@boomtowngirl @kavecika @becks-things @mysticalgalaxysalad @catsnkooks @starlightrows @tailorvizsla @bitchin-beskar @lilhawkeye3 @acourtofsnakes @grogusmum @buzzybeebee @deannie13 @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics @the-good-shittt @princessxkenobi @everythingyouwanted @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @laichka @elinedjarin @myeternalsin @kazthedestroyer @writeforfandoms @startrekkingaroundasgard @onabouteverything @beskarmermaid @flightlessangelwings
81 notes · View notes
echoedcrosshairs · 10 months
Text
The Portrait ~ Boba x F Reader
Tumblr media
Plot: You, a daughter of a former bounty captured by Boba Fett, are asked to paint a portrait of the new Daimyo although you despise him you can't help notice the growing tension. 🖤Enemies to Lovers 🖤
Warnings: second person narration, no y/n, suggestive sexual content, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is 41 canonically), lots of petnames (Little one & Old Man), praise kink, one dude being a creep but nothing bad happens; protective Boba moment~> violence, Enemies to lover & sort of slow burn and eventual smut. This is a build up chapter.
Word Count: 6.7k
Masterlist Part Two
🔞no minors allowed🔞
Yes I know I need to go through all of my stories because small typos.
Boba sat in a darkest corner booth of the cantina waiting for his prospect to arrive but something was bugging him about her name it sounded familiar but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it. He had arrived early to avoid being noticed by the crowds who came in during rush hour as Daimyo every knew his face and who he was but he wasn’t in the mood to be bowed at. He had his shawl covering his armor and his helmet tucked in beside him, knowing it’s shine would make him stand out. He brought his drink to his lips letting his eyes wandered to one of the dancers, although she was gorgeous but not gorgeous enough to distracted him with her curves and elegance to notice the prospect walking over. He blinked admiring the features in your face and the way your hips swayed as you walked towards him. He knew the confidence of female hunter when he saw it, alluring yet on the prowl. He let his eyes travel along the entire noting all of the empty concealed pockets.
"Do you two need a minute?" you laughed sitting down looking between him and the dancer, "I would hate to come between a hunter and his prey. She is rather pretty"
"I admire. Nothing more," he said curtly not liking the fact you noticed what he tried to hide, "I am retired," he added, “and to old to be chasing such beautiful creatures.”
"Once a hunter always a hunter. All you traded was one type of bounty for another just with less stakes but that's semantics," you said dismissing it.
Boba studied you carefully curious to what would compel you to so bold and brazen with him, "I take it you are not found of how I run this town?" he asked simply not letting any emotion or interest pace his course rough.
"No your rule is not one with an iron fist nor disappearing villagers in the dead of night or making examples out of petty things. I just do not care for you," you said pulling out your dust covered sketch book flipping the page of him taking away your father and your father's imprisonment in stone, "Getting to the subject. All supplies must be paid for up front, the entire can change once I started however you’re still wearing the same thing so I don’t think that matters and point me in the direction of the nearest lodging. I can begin as soon as the supplies arrive," you said closing the sketch book and returning it to your bag. Your eyes caught swift movement of hands of the person bringing both of you drinks, quickly pulling out the blaster out of your art bag dispatching one fatal shot you caught the tray with the drinks and dumped them both into a flower vase watching them quickly wilt. That’s what I thought, I need this try again later. You sat back down putting the blaster away, "What?" said noticing him staring at you.
"You loathe me yet saved my life, interesting" he said studying the expression on your face, "with such tenacity and efficiency."
"I may have talents outside of painting. I would hate to lose such an important commission before it was complete."
"Indeed," he said finally blinking looking at the corpse being dragged away, "stay at the palace, plenty of food and rooms to choose from," he offered.
"I'll take whatever room is furtherest from you," you grinned pulled the pad with the out the list of supplies and upgrades handing it to him. His leather glove brushing against your hand taking it, it sent a cold shiver up your arm like you just touch death.
"Consider it yours, I'll send someone to pick up all of these premiums," he said in attempt to ignore the fact brushing up against your finger set a jolt of something down him. Fear? Anticipation? She's a daughter of a former bounty and I just invited danger into my house. He stuck out the pad, Fennec taking it from whatever spot she was hiding.
"I should have most of these by sunrise, one or two might take a few extra hours," she said nodding walking off with the pad.
"I know my way to the palace," you said standing up eyeing the women he was looking at earlier, "Enjoy yourself for a change," you let out a small harsh laugh, "Try not to get killed until the commission is completed."
You walked away pretending not to be in a hurry about your heart was racing and your hands were clammy just being around him. He was a dangerous man with a temper for disintegration and being ruthless with how audacious and brash you were talking to him wondered if he had the mind to disintegrate you. What was I thinking? He's a client at this moment, nothing more. Your mind wandered back to that night when he took your father and showed him off to you in carbonite. Your fist balled but you kept walking, you had half the mind just to get off this sand ball but the other half wanted the money and the recognition for something other than the fine marksman the ire had turn you into too. Now he was an aging man, ‘retired’ and you didn't know if it would be worth it if he wasn’t in the game. Yet the muscles in his arms and the coldness in his face suggested he was still ever bit the predator... one who had a disgustingly charming gravel voice and it set a shiver down your spine.
"Are you sure this isn't a conflict of interest, little one?" You heard Boba's voice emerge next to you.
"Being in the same persec as you is a conflict of interest but this is business as you well understand," you couldn't help but notice the annoyance seeping out over his company, although the sound of his voice was better then silence. You didn't bother look at him as you kept walking, "Also don't call me that, I'm not little nor a child," you added.
"Why take the commission?" He asked finally letting his curiosity get the best of him.
"It's you I have to thank for my talents whether it's through a paintbrush or a blaster." you said harshly still not bothering to look at him.
"You could just take the money and go-"
"We both know there's no honor in that, although I don’t think I would ever consider you honorable," your tempter starting getting the best of you, you finally stopped and stared at the T visor helmet forever engrained into your memory, "I am here because I have to prove to myself you are nothing then a man to not some assassin droid in the shadows without a thought or care."
You watched him stand still for a moment before putting his hands clasp behind his back, "You speak your mind without thought of the repercussions or hesitation, I respect that," he said starting to walk again, "I even admire it."
Your lip twitched but you followed after him in silence. You kept nonchalantly wiping your hands on your pants, feeling like an angry fool living in the past but you liked the praise from him sending goose bumps down you.!What the hell is wrong with me? It was a silent trek to the palace after that, thankful you didn't continue making a fool of yourself publicly speaking to him like that in view of those still up at this hour. The doors of the palace swung up, you walked in not bothering to wait for an invitation which was custom on Tatooine.
"Still want the furthest room or do you want to face that fear too," you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Just point me to an available room and show me the location."
Boba lead you to a long hall way more adorned with fineries then the others. He pointed to the door on the left, "Yours," he pointed to the door on the right, "Mine. This way," he said turning back heading towards the throne room.
You scowled following after him realizing where he was taking you, "Of course it's the throne, how pretentious," you mumbled sarcastically taking out the sketch pad.
"Do you have a better idea?" Boba said stopping mid step turning to you, "you are the artist after all, where would you choose in my position."
"Each previous Daimyo has had his done on the throne using it as display of power and fear. If I wanted to prove my rule was different, I would do mine somewhere to show who I am underneath."
He nodded, "Have you ever seen the Tusken huts?"
You were taken back by the question, "Not up close, no."
"Wish to take the Rancor for a run or a speeder?" he asked.
"Rancor," you said stepping up to his obvious challenge to test your nerves further, "It's been a while since I've been on one."
"Let's see if he's awake. So you've ridden one before?" He asked calmly but intrigued.
"Once or twice," you said opting to give the least amount of information knowing he was digging.
Boba smiled knowing it could not be seen, "The riding boots your wearing covered with your pants suggest other wise," he said done playing coy that he didn't notice the little things, "one of your many talents I assume?"
"Perhaps," you trying to keep the irritation out of your voice glancing down at your foot wear that you didn't bother to change when you were done, "or perhaps I wear them because their comfortable and made to take a beating. Perfect for function, comfort and a sleek appearance."
"I'm sure they are, little one," he chuckled watching your face force smoothness on it. He couldn't deny he was interested in you in more ways then one, you were beautiful, complexed and smart but perhaps just as dangerous and unpredictable as he was at that age regretting putting your room so close to his if you had the urge in the dead of the night to unleash vengeance upon him, "How about a bargain?" he asked.
"What are you proposing?" you asked crossing your arms following him into the throne room looking down into the pit.
"Every day you get to ask me one personal question until the portrait is completed."
"What do you get out of it?" You asked because it sounded like you were getting the better end of the deal.
"Hopefully not feed to my rancor in the middle of the night," he said with laugh, the sound made you blink. It was warm and kind, rough like his voice but it reminded you of a shot of whiskey after a long day. He watched your face falter for a second after his laughter, raising an eyebrow.
"Did you enjoy rubbing my fathers fate in my face?" You said boldly, looking down at the sleeping rancor.
"No however I hoped it would prevent you from going down the same path."
"What path would that be?" You asked tartly looking back up at him feeling his eyes linger on you.
"One without the need to follow in his shoes"
You studied him as he studied you, "Funny," you mused.
"Indeed," Boba said realizing it was what set you on this path. He lightly tapping the bars to see if the Rancor would wake but it's soft snores he was out for the evening, "A speeder it is."
"Did you ever find him?" He ask heading towards the main doors.
"What was left of him to find."
"I'm sorry."
Those two words hit a nerve but also shocked you. Your mouth fell agape but you shut it not knowing what to say to the statement, the man who turned your life on it's head... apologizing? You followed him outside to the one speeder realizing you were going to have to share. You wandered if you both were thinking the same thing, how easy it would be to toss each other off.
"I'll ride in the front," he said giving you the upper hand waiting to see what you would do.
"I'm personally holding you accountable if I get hurt due to your driving, old man," you jested trying to hide the anxiousness of climbing on behind him having to hold his waist.
"Then you better hold on, little one. I'm not that old."
"Are you sure about-" you shut your mouth holding him tighter as he took off full speed towards the Dune Sea. You felt the chiseled muscle under his clothing, red subconsciously warmth spreading across your face. It made you sick that you had a reaction to him, the lingering smell of leather, blaster smoke and sweat didn't help. You tighten your jaw reminding yourself of the monster you were clinging too as he enjoyed riding the waves of the sand.
"Having fun?" He chuckled feeling your cheek burning into his back and your arms tighten around him as he took another bigger sand dune. It took a lot of self restraint not to move his hand to yours and tease you but knew you’d probably shoot him if he did.
"Extremely," you said sarcastically thanking the maker when he stopped so you could let go and hop off.
Boba watched you quickly take out your pad to engulfed in your work to notice the approaching Tusken's. The Tusken's recognized him, signing his name. He nodded to them in greeting and preceded to explain why they were out this late, that he would send them food as payment for the disturbance.
"They want to see," Boba said pointing at them.
His voice pulled you out of the composition of art to notice the raiders standing next to him. You gulped, you were not fan of the Tusken's for their violent nature towards outsiders and it didn’t help that the Daimyo was very comfortable around them. You carefully walked towards them showing them the sketch of the hut. They made a noise and you looked to Boba raising an eyebrow.
"Their impressed."
"Thank you," you said nodding your head, they handed you the pad back allowing you to walk back to the spot and continued your art.
"Tribe?" the Tusken signed looking between the two of you
"No, Business."
The Tusken nodded signal for him and his companions to leave. Boba walked over looking of your shoulder watching the hunt come together with the rough sketch of the Tusken in the foreground.
"Done?" He asked watching you look at the pad then up then back down.
"Yes."
"Let's get back to the palace, it's getting late and creatures should be waking up," he said climbing back into the speeder feeing your arms go around his waist again but this time he didn't feel your hands as sweaty against him.
When you both arrived at the palace, Fennec was waiting different sizes canvas. Boba picked a medium sized one, modest yet large enough to be noticed. Fennec kept her eyes on you the whole time.
"Do you want me to have guards outside?" she whispered wondering if you could be trusted.
"Just one discreetly at the top of the hall if it put your mind at ease."
She gave a small nod, "What you think of her?" she asked quietly watching you pull out your sketch pad looking over your work.
Boba just slightly turned his head not to make it obvious, "One of a kind."
Fennec rolled her eyes, "Friend or foe?" she corrected.
"Both," he admitted, "Good Night," he said to Fennec raising his voice back up from a whisper.
You cocked your head to see him heading back inside, you followed after him sketching out a simple speedy portrait of his face. You caught up to him and knocked on his helmet, he turned catching your wrist pulling it away.
"Helmet off," you said pulling your wrist back.
"So bossy, little one."
"So deaf, take it off old man," you said bringing your pencil back to the pad waiting,
He took it off, you examined the lines in his face quickly sketching them out. You were to distracted with the lines to notice his brown eyes boring into you. You were raptured in artist inspiration staring at him, your hands moving seamlessly across the paper noting every healed scar and various shades of brown to gold in his eyes. You finally looked down red creeping back into your face as you sketched his shoulders and the top of his armor.
He looked down at the paper stunned, "May I?" he asked holding out his hand. You stared at what was probably your best rough sketch but handed it to him. "It's absolutely marvelous," he said examining it closing looking at ever scar and remembering the cause to each one, "Your marvelous," he unintentionally whispered.
"I know," you said grabbing the sketch back and walking towards the hall with the bedrooms, flushed and angry. You noticed the bags that you tucked away at the Cantina you were going to go back to retrieve were sitting the end of the bed waiting. You groaned tossing your art bag on the bed and setting the pad on a big wooden ornate vanity. You unpacked the essential clothing you needed and various toiletries. Your head was swimming and knew you couldn't sleep, you grabbed your toilets stepping into the hall. Your face flicked up when you heard footsteps, a single guard walking a catwalk above.
"Where's the bathroom?" You asked watching him walk to the end of the hall and point at a door. He spoke a language you didn't understand, "Thank you! I think,” you called.
You opened the door, staring at Boba in a towel around his waist water still trickling down his pecs and abs. You quickly pulled the door shut, "That didn't just happen."
Your hand quickly shot up to your eyes when you heard the door immediately open "I'm sorry he doesn't speak basic," you said trying to defend yourself.
"Unfortunately it did. Dank Farrik! Next time I'm going to shoot you in the knee cap! I could have still been in the crinking shower!" He called up the guard who was laughing suddenly stilled. He noticed your hand over your eyes, "I'm not that bad to look at," he laughed, "I was just leaving," he said stepping around you, "I'll have them come in and fix the other one tomorrow promptly."
You uncovered your eyes for a moment watching his muscular back as he headed towards his room before quickly getting into the bathroom and shutting the door realizing there wasn't a lock on it. I seriously can't believe that happened. You turned the water up to match how hot your face was. You discarded your clothing, neatly putting them on the what looked to be hand carved precious stone counter. You ran your hand across it, still cool. Maker that had to cost which ever Daimyo a fortune. You shook your head and stepped into the shower hoping the heat would wash away the embarrassment. After spending a fair amount of time scolding yourself clearing your head you stepped out and noticed a couple of credits with a note on your clothing.
"It didn't happen -Fett."
You stared at the forty thousand credits your mouth fell open. I need the money but no way I can accept this much, I'll just slip part of it into his room or something. You quickly got dressed and peaked your head out the door to see if he was there, you breathed out in relief. You groaned the moment you got to your room noticing the small fruit assortment on your bed. I don't know if I'm more embarrassed or he is. You moved the fruit to the vanity and crawled into bed, you laid awake into the night before finally prying yourself up deciding fresh air might help you get situated with your temporary reality. You tucked your blaster in your waist band and found your way to a balcony overlooking the city.
"You too?" you heard Boba's voice behind you.
"Yeah. Are any of the cantinas still open this late?"
"One, you want to go?" he asked.
"I need a drink... or five if I'm going to be sleeping in the room across from you," you admitted.
"Likewise."
Both of you quietly walked into your rooms and changed. You dawned a form fitting dress with a side holster and boots with hidden knife pockets. You opened the door and found him waiting with holding his helmet.
He did his best to keep a straight face over the entire, "Expecting company?" He said pointy looking at the blaster as an excuse to look at your figure before looking back up at you.
"Always except the unexpected, that's how you stay alive in this line a work," you said as you started walking.
"Which is our problem," he said following after you.
"Another bargain perhaps?"
"You don't trust me and I don't trust you, I could simply move into lodging like I wanted too or we could drag the other bed into the others room so we can at least hear it coming," your throat dried up, “because I can’t think of a reason why I would want to trust you. You can only out run your past so long before it catches up.”
"What ever your comfort with, little one-" Boba stopped looking at your dress and then speedier.
"Dank Farrik," you mumbled motioning him to get on, hiking up your dress an indecent amount throwing your leg over it, "Why can't they just make flattering dresses with pants?" mumbled uncomfortably exposed to him.
"You now have plenty enough to get some tailored to your design," he suggested.
"I can't accept all of them for something so little, not even for this predicament," you said, "Got a problem or something that my skills can be used for?"
"I'm sure I can think of something."
He let you get off the speeder first to adjust your dress before getting off himself. You both kept each other arms lengths apart. Heat rose to your face thinking about how close his back had been between your legs. You did not and would not like this man. Eyes on the prize, finish this commission and get the creds then get hell away from this monster. No Boba Fett is a man, this commission is to prove that. He's not the boogie man, at least not any more.
He opened a door letting you go in first, the cantina nearly empty except for a few stragglers. He watched them eye you then back at him with a nod of respect. You walked up to the bar hoping he wasn't going to follow you. You noticed him hovering the door and you smirked.
You slide in the stool seat, "Whiskey, double," you told the bar droid, who dropped a shot glass in front of you and poured it. You slammed it back and tapped for another.
"I'd hate to see you on a bad day," Boba laughed joining her after eyeing everyone again to see if any one was going to make a move. Given most of the men in here were older then him he was pretty confident that no one going to given she also came in here with the Daimyo.
"This?" You said lifting the third shot, "is barely the appetizer for today."
"The same, sir?" The droid asked him.
"Yes."
Both of you sat in silence, while Boba caught up on the shots. He watched you down a couple more, the tipsiness finally started to show. The warm glow of alcohol spread across your face, wondering if you always looked just as a beautiful regardless.
"Might want to slow down, little one," he said eyeing her twitch trying to focus, "You don't look like it would be a fair fight." He watched her pull out a blaster and bull-eye a painting on the wall. He tossed some credits to the droid as an apology, "How did you get so good?" He asked wondering if the circumstances were different he if he could convince you to stay.
"Practicing praying one day I would get a chance to kill you and everyone else associated with my father," you admitted, "I looked for you in every shadow praying and our paths would cross.. then you fell into the Sarlacc a few orbitals ago. I realized if I could not kill you... I could kill the idea of you and prove you don't have to have Fett running in your veins to be good." You felt the few horrified gawking stares at the disrespect and contempt laced words coming out of your mouth. The whiskey had loosened your lips a little further then you intended, "That that counts as your one personal question of the day."
"I do also get one personal question?" He asked taking his last shot knowing he was going to have to drive both of you back.
"It's only fair," you said sliding the shot glass back to the droid, "done." You said cutting yourself off knowing your mouth was only going to get worse. "I may have had to many." You admitted.
You stared into Boba's eyes, counting the shades but the slight double vision made it difficult, "five or six" you muttered pulling your eyes away, "color shades in your eyes. Can't tell right now."
"You're drunk," he laughed, "let's go home, little one."
"Stop calling me that, old man."
Boba scooped you up and put you over his arm like a nap sack, "That's enough out of you." He tried setting you down realizing you were asleep. He carefully set you in his lap holding you with a vice grip as he drove one handed back to the palace. He saw Fennec doing her patrol and shook his head carrying you inside and setting you on his bed. He looked at you debating if he wanted to have Fennec come in and change you but doubted she'd be there right when you woke up to explain. He carefully pulled off the blaster and set it besides you. He grabbed a bantha hide and curled up on his armoire couch, looking at you more time wondering the type of person you were under all of that hurt.
You felt the sun shining in your eyes, Wait my room is opposite of the sun, you took in your surroundings the various artwork on the walls and target practice posters. Fett’s room? You looked over and saw the closet still open with several flight suits. Your head was pounding but you got up feeling for your blaster finding it laying next to you. At least I’m still in my dress. You scurried back to your room munching down some of the fruit arrangement and black melon which helped. You opted for pants discarding all of the dresses back into your bags, Never again. You tapped on the refresher door when there was no reply you opened the door and quickly did your business. Leaving the refresher you found Fennec standing outside your bedroom door.
“Good morning,” you offered opening the door letting her in.
“All of the supplies are in a work room for you, along with food, one hall over with the blue door.”
“Thank you,” you said still trying to dry your hair, “You guys wouldn’t happen to have a shooting range or something?” You asked noticing the rifle slung on her back.
“Two halls over down the stairs behind the orange door.”
“Thank you again,” you said putting the towel around your shoulders.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“No. I don’t know why either of you would need me for anything but if I’m not in this room or the work room, you’ll probably find me in the range.”
She nodded quietly backing out of the room, Friend or Foe? rung through her head. The exchange had been minimal but she didn’t see a gundark waiting to strike which alarmed her further. I’m a good judge of character, but I still can’t answer that question.
Fennec found Boba sitting on the throne, “How was your patrol?”
“A couple hooligans needed a stern talking too, that’s all.”
“She’s awake. She’s been informed the supplies have arrived and where her work room is, inquiring if we hand a range and I told her where to find it.”
“Good.”
“Is something on your mind Boba?” Fennec said noticing the short answers.
“Thinking about something she said. Wondering if my past has caught to me and if this is my undoing.”
“I can get more guards-”
“That won’t stop someone on our level. She no longer seems to want revenge, old man,” he said shaking his head “I want to know what she really wants with the commission.”
“Have you tried asking?” she suggested half heartedly.
“No but that would be my personal question of the day,” he muttered getting up to head to the work room, “summon me when our guest arrive.”
Fennec arched an eyebrow but nodded. You had various sketch pads out using them to sketch quick ideas how the portrait should look using various compositions with shadow and foreground and background ideas along with one or two the rancor was in too.
“Come see what you think” you asked hearing the door open, you looked back to see you were correct that it was him.
“That one.”
“Consider it yours.” You smirked throwing the sentence back at him, tearing the other ones out and set them to the side to dispose of later, “Is there something I can help you with?” you noticing him not leaving.
“What do you have so much riding on this commission?” He asked.
“Pride.”
“That isn’t much an answer.”
“Does it count as your personal question of the day?”
“No.”
“Than that’s the answer you’re going to have to live with,” you said eying him taking a seat.
You don’t know how long it had been until Fennec stuck her head in, “Daiymo, they have arrived.”
Boba excused himself to leave you to your art. The next few days where like that. Quiet. Every day his chair got a little closer until he was sitting next to you. Time to time he would stop to ask you questions about art, your favorite things to draw and other various things about you biding time for you to ask him question. It was a nice little routine as much as you despised him it became to comfortable. You eventually took to sleeping during day and working on the piece during the night as an excuse not to have to see him. You missed the company but every morning Fennec joined you at the range. It was small talk mostly but it helped dull the loneliness. Fennec left earlier this morning to go take care of an errand, leaving you alone in this big palace. Given some of the guards didn’t speak beside your only reprieve was the animal in the pit. You found your way to the Rancor kneeling before it, offering it a large slab of meat staying in routine of the past couple days. You smiled as the Rancor finally accepted your status as below him.
“Where is she? She’s not in her room or painting,” you heard Boba say concerned, stifling your laughter.
“She hasn’t left the palace-” Fennec said looking down hearing you.
“Someone’s losing their touch, old man. You know I ride yet you didn’t look down?” You huffed disappointment, finally getting to scratch the Rancor’s cheek, “I don’t recommend putting leash on me however, I bite.”
“I can’t even pet him,” Fennec said staring, “and I live here,” she muttered.
“Rancor respond to a social hierarchy and as I have no interest in staying, I made sure he knew he was the boss of me. Unlike me, Fennec you scream predator which is why he doesn’t respond to you. You have to be both hunter and prey,” you said standing up and wiping the dirt off your butt, “being a one sided blade only gets you so far, it’s those who are two that survive.”
Boba looked at you noticing how seamless the Mandalorian philosophy rolled off your tongue with such an easy explanation. Boba eyes trailed after you pinning. He was use to every woman throwing themselves at him having his selection of whatever fascinated him that evening. Even as Daimyo women fanned over his power and wealth having to let down several mothers trying to sell off their daughters to him.
“Well, I got my painting in for the evening so I had to wait for that to dry. I’m going to go the Cantina before going to bed,” you stared at the paint you missed on your foreheads and elbows, “after I apparently shower. Again,” you groaned walking off grumbling about paint and how it always ends up in weird places.
“You like her don’t you?” Fennec asked smiling watching his eyes trail after her, “Old man,” she said wiggling her eyebrows, “You’ve killed people for less.”
“She… reminds me of another time. I think I’ll accompany her discreetly. No need to follow.”
You shower daring to wear a flowing dresses with two discreet slide slits that overlapped to hide the thigh holsters, “At least I can ride a speeder in this.” You found Boba standing outside the door waiting. His molten gazing temporarily holding you in place, “I figured I’d give you a ride.”
“I am quite capable of getting there on my own,” you said inserting your independence staring back at him.
“You are… quiet the capable woman,” he said noting the heighten chemistry today, “but I need the speeder today.”
You looked at this features feeling sick about how in depth you studied every scar, crease, shape of his nose and the depths of his skin, “Fine, let’s go,” you said looking away first, “but I’m driving, can’t risk crashing in this dress,” you said doing the best to ignore the tension that has been slowly building since you met him and the playful banter he allowed you to get away with. Just awhile longer.
He waved his arm forward, “Lead the way.”
“You haven’t asked your question today,” you asked glancing him.
“I’m sure it will come to me before you go to bed. You haven’t either.”
“I’ll let you know when I have one,” you said tossing your legs over the speeder realizing this was the worse idea you ever had but you didn’t want to have to explain changing your mind. You felt him climb on, you took a quick silent intake of air when you felt his cod piece nuzzled up to your ass. He gently wrapped his arms around you placing each hand on your hip. You bit your lip and turned on the speeder taking it near full speed to the bustling cantina. Boba was like the sun of Tatooine pressing against your back and his gloves pressing you where felt like heaven wishing you could take them for your self. Getting off the speedier for a split second you could feel the cod piece rub against your ass. I need some company because that isn’t happening.
“Take this,” he said tossing you a device, “Call me when your ready to get picked up,” although I don’t intend to let you be here alone. Boba took the speeder around giving it the appearance that he left before letting himself inside through the side door. His eyes spotting you at the counter with a shot in hand. You took himself to an empty booth a distance away tucking away his helmet and covering his armor to blend in. The droid brought him over a drink when he saw a man slide into the stool next to you. Boba blinked because the man was about his age. Anger starting boiling over when he saw him put hand on your leg watching you light up and smile at him.
“What is a goddess like you doing in a temple like this at this hour?” the man asked.
You smiled at the comment, “Hopefully enjoying some company for a bit,” you dared, watching him put his hand on your leg.
“I don’t mind keeping you company,” he said ordering to drinks.
He’s no Boba Fett, but he’s still cute to look at. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking such thing. Both of you chatted the conversation coming easy, there was no playing coy or calculated responses it made you miss having company because Fennec and Boba weren’t quiet conversationalist. You felt eyes at the back of your neck, you scowled for a second realizing it was probably Fennec keeping an eye on you or someone under here.
“What is it?” He asked concerned.
“Oh it’s nothing, I lost my train of thought.”
Boba watched every action his jaw setting tighter and tighter. He watched as the man leaned in kissed her. Boba’s gripping on the shot glass caused it to break. Your head turned again and you saw broken glass but not the person sitting in the shadows. Just a coincidence. Right as you started to lean back in you saw him pulling his hand away from your drink and a whipcord shoot out dragging him to the dark booth.
“Bantha Fodder,” you heard the growl from a familiar gravel sounding man, watching him step out in the shadows.
“Caraya’s Soul Fett! For kriff’s sake,” your blood ran cold for a moment staring at the helmet the man wired on the ground before taking out the blaster and shooting the man, “I get it he was going to drug me, but did you really have to stalk me? I could have handled it on my way,” you said putting the blaster away and getting in his face. You stuck your finger on his chest and gave him a small push, “I don’t need to be babysat let alone by you of all people.”
Boba looked down shot him again watching him disintegrate into dust, “You were saying?”
“I guess we’re even now,” you huffed pulling your finger off him watching retract the wire and putting his arms in front him. “I’m going to a different cantina, this time don’t follow me.”
You tossed a couple creds down on the table and leaving hearing his foot steps behind you and the heat from his gaze boring into the back of your back. You whirled around to find him standing there with his hands still in front him.
“I said don’t follow me,” you watched him talk a few steps towards you standing face to face, face to helmet.
“I am the Daimyo, I go where I want.”
“That is exactly why I don’t want you here! No one will talk to me or even look at me when your around. You know what it’s like to sit in silence alone for hours! I hate it.”
“Why don’t you talk to me?” he taking off his helmet, stepping forward pinning you in place with his gaze.
You saw the dilation in his eyes and his uneven breathing, “That’s why.” Feeling heat rush through you and your legs stared feeling like jello under his gaze. You could felt the heat go to your head, your mind emptying but conflicted if you want to kiss him or kiss him your knuckles. You knew your eyes had the same hazy expression thinking about when you found him in the towel, the water and muscle. You weakly stepped back ripping your eyes off of him, dizzily turning around trying to your legs under you. “This is business,” you said finally getting them moving, “Get a concubine or something,” you snipped, “isn’t that what Daimyo’s do.”
“I don’t want one” you heard him whisper.
“I don’t want you too either,” you gritted out not hearing foot steps behind you.
65 notes · View notes
maikaartwork · 10 months
Text
@darkisrising commissioned me (my commissions are open btw) to make an illustration for her amazing, incredible, showstopping series Sinatra Songs.
CHECK OUT SINATRA SONGS HERE (tagset under the cut)
Tumblr media
Below the cut is a gif version (because I absolutely got carried away and also love Dark dearly and she deserves the best things).
WARNING: the gif contains flashing lights!!!
Tumblr media
And here is the info on Sinatra Songs:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
67 notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Fluffuary 2024 Masterlist (Star Wars Edition)
Five fluffy Star Wars one-shots during the month of February!
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
Prompt 1: Planning the Future (complete) CT-7567 / Rex x Female Reader
Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.
Prompt 2: Spooning / Cuddles (complete) Ben Solo x Reader
You give Ben comfort after a night terror.
Prompt 3: Marry Me (complete) Boba Fett x Female Reader
A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.
Prompt 4: Meet Ugly (complete) Hunter (Bad Batch) x Reader
A misidentification of a target lands Hunter in a messy entanglement.
Prompt 5: I Love You (complete) Din Djarin x Female Reader
Din Djarin admits what he wants.
taglist:
@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @dameron-grant-spector @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @enfppixie @cinnabeanz @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @ferns-fics @beebeechaos
29 notes · View notes
daimyosprincess · 11 months
Text
EX LIBRIS I
Tumblr media
PART I: FOREWORD
—PAIRING: Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader
—SERIES RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
—SUMMARY: When the new Mandalorian studies professor Boba Fett comes into the university library looking for help, you’re more than happy to be of assistance.
—WORD COUNT: 6.4k
—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, references to sexual themes, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is late forties), reader described as having hair, alcohol consumption by reader and others, GRATUITOUS flirting (like a ridiculous amount)
—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here it is, my first ever posted fic! I'm so excited to share this with y'all, it's been so much fun to write. Thank you for all your support for this series. Enjoy the Boba brainrot with me :)
Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist
Part II>
Tumblr media
The university library is dead—classes aren’t in session and things are slow. The afternoon summer sun streams through the building’s tall windows, illuminating the dust motes that dance in the golden light. The faint rustle of papers turning is the only sound filling the idle air other than you and your coworker’s chatting at the circulation desk. 
“No, I’m telling you there’s no good guys to date here. They’re all either emotionally unavailable or terrible in bed… or both,” your friend Selena gripes. She’s exasperated by the most recent of her flings ghosting her after their last hookup. 
Swirling your iced coffee, you roll your eyes. “Well maybe you need to expand your dating pool, there’s more out there than just twenty-something guys who spend all their time in the gym.” You grin knowingly at your friend—she definitely has a type.
She throws an elbow at you. “Hey! Not all of us are into girls and men old enough to be our dads! Speaking of which…” she cuts off, wiggling her perfect eyebrows at you.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice calls from behind your back, “is there a librarian I can speak to about reserving my course materials?” The voice’s vowels lilt and come together like sand being molded by an ocean wave, powerful yet graceful—it’s a voice that could warm you in sunny, shallow waters or drown you in a raging storm.
All but choking on your coffee, you spin to face the front desk. Standing on the other side of the counter is the most handsome man you think you’ve ever seen: copper skin, white teeth, and dark eyes stand atop a crisp linen shirt rolled up to reveal thick, strong forearms. Pale, silvered scars crisscross his skin, glinting in the light, making him look equally dangerous and enticing, like a trap baited with everything you’ve ever wanted.
Shit, he could get me in a lot of trouble… and I’d let him. You clear your throat, doing your best to recover with at least some of your dignity intact—a difficult task when the absolute god of a man before you just heard that you’re definitely into men his age. 
Selena, however, beats you to an answer. “Yes, sir, that would be my coworker here,” she answers in a sing-song voice, “she’s more than happy to help you with anything you need.” You shoot her a dirty look as she flounces away back to her desk in the back, her attitude completely unapologetic.
Being the flirt you are, you did fully intend to hit on this handsome professor, but that’s not the point. Rallying your thoughts, you flash him a dazzling smile. “Yes, I certainly am,” you confirm. “What can I do for you, professor…?” Your voice trails off in anticipation of his response, and you catch the dark gleam in his coffee-colored eyes. 
“Fett, Boba Fett. Professor of Mandalorian studies,” he answers smoothly, his rich timbre confident and unphased by you and Selena’s antics.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, professor,” you respond, matching his blithe tone. You introduce yourself with your name and title as the research materials librarian.
He smirks, flicking his eyes over your frame in a casual, yet interested, way. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” When his eyes meet yours again, they flicker with amber fire, bright and tempting.
You let his compliment hang in the sunlit air between you for a moment, gauging whether he too felt the electric connection buzzing between you two. Judging by the glint in his eye and quirk of his lips, he did.
Game on. “Well, usually faculty submit their materials for purchase and reservation at the end of the previous school year or at the beginning of the summer session,” you inform him with an overly patronizing tone. “But I suppose I can make an exception for you since you’re being so polite.” You end your statement with a wink, inviting him in to test the waters.  
Taking your hint, he leans his muscled arms on the high lip of the desk, bringing himself closer into your space. “You’re too kind. Things have been a little difficult since I’m new to the school and wasn’t in the country until last week… and I’d really appreciate your help, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like spiced honey, hot and sweet.
  Your brows arch up and you run your tongue over teeth behind your lips as you consider the handsome professor. Most men you meet are either too intimidated or too stupid to give you a fair fight, but this Boba Fett… he might just be the one. Without saying much, he’s said it all: true power doesn’t need to be defended because it speaks for itself. His innate confidence makes your stomach tighten and your blood run hot—this is going to be even more fun than you first thought. “Why don’t you come into my office and I can see what all I can do for you, Professor Fett,” you offer with a flirty smile.
“Please,” he entreats with a saccharine smile, “call me Boba.”
Tumblr media
Leaning against your doorframe, Boba shoulders his leather satchel, his broad shoulders rippling under the material of his shirt. The muscles in his arms carve out valleys in his marked skin, making your mind race with the thought of how those arms would feel around you, lifting you up, or pinning you down beneath him. The way he totally fills up the space around him is enough to send heat between your legs, and the snatches of fantasy only heighten the desire simmering in your core. You’ve done everything you can to help the professor at the moment, but neither of you seem too keen on parting just yet, much to your satisfaction. 
“So how old are you, then?” he asks, eyeing you tilted back in your chair below him.
You’d teased him about his thesis date being long before your birth while you chatted as you submitted his materials requests. “Why, professor,” you taunt, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes, “are you trying to make sure I’m at least eighteen?”
He answers with a devil’s grin. “No, just trying to see whether or not I’m old enough to be your father.”
Yep, he definitely heard that earlier, you groan internally as heat pricks up your neck. Not one to be beaten so easily, however, you lazily trail your eyes down to his left hand braced on your door, a smirk splitting your face when you don’t find a ring. “As long as you’re single, I’m twenty-six.”
“And if I’m not?” he counters, cocking his head in pointed curiosity.
You pray to whoever might be listening that he is because you might not survive temptation much longer, not with the way he’s looking at you like you’re the sweetest dessert he’s ever seen. “Well then, I’d be twenty-six and disappointed.” 
He snorts, shaking his head with a deliciously low chuckle. “You really are something, aren’t you, little one?”
Your stomach flips at his continued use of the sweet names, but you swallow it down. Boba Fett is a test you intend on passing and that means you have to keep your wits about you.  “I have been told I can be quite the handful. Hope that's not a problem… don’t think it would be for you, though,” you reply, looking him up and down meaningfully and letting your eyes linger on the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. He’s built like a kriffing brick wall, thick and solid, and you want to climb him to the very top. 
The sultry look he gives you makes you think he’d let you, too. “After forty-seven years, princess, I don't think it would be.”
That same hum of charged energy of your initial meeting fills your office as your gaze falls into line with the intense depth of his own. You were wrong before, he’s not looking at you like you’re dessert. You’re prey, soft and open, and he’s the predator tracking you deeper and deeper in the forest, far away so no one would hear your shriek when sunk his teeth into your flesh. 
But did prey ever want to be torn apart by its hunter? You roll your lips together, squeezing your thighs against the embers of desire flickering to life between them. 
A few moments later, your computer chirps with an email notification and you blink back to reality, the tension fizzling out into the surrounding air. Probably for the best since I’m about ten seconds away from jumping this man's bones in my office. Straightening up in your seat, you clear your throat. “Same time tomorrow, then, professor?”
“If it’s not a problem,” he shrugs, his heated gaze betraying his nonchalance, “I know you’re a busy girl.”
He’s clearly enjoying calling you everything but your name and you, much to your surprise, are lapping it up. In an attempt to even the score, you push up from your chair, snatching up one of your business cards from your desk and scribbling your cell number on the back. Sauntering over to him stretched out in your door, you stop just a little closer than absolutely necessary. You slip the piece of paper into his front pocket, pleased with the way the muscle in his jaw twinges at the contact. “Oh, no, it’s no problem at all,” you practically purr, “At the university, we want to make sure our new faculty enjoy everything the library has to offer.” 
He huffs in amusement, not moving away. “Your efforts should be rewarded, then,” he notes, his voice like rich molasses, “You’ve been nothing but eager.”
Before you can stop the impish impulse, you rattle off your usual coffee order. The worst he can say is no, but something tells you he’s willing to indulge you just a bit more than most would.
He tilts his head to the side, his lips twitching into a smile in understanding a second later. “Size?”
“As much as you’re willing to give me,” you wink, flipping your pen between your fingers under your chin. You’d like to think he’d indulge you in that too, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself.
“Don’t worry,” he assures, his voice like bittersweet woodsmoke, “I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.” The promises laced through his words like invisible threads, weaving together images of love-bruised skin and rough hands pressed into soft flesh.  
You swallow thickly, and almost groan in embarrassment when his eyes track the bob of your throat with a smug look. “You could get a man into trouble, little one. A lot of trouble…” 
He shoves off the doorframe, his face swaying dangerously close to yours as he turns to leave. “See you tomorrow, princess.” He says the words like a promise rather than a casual expression.
“Oh, professor?” you call out after him. You can’t let this man come out of your office thinking he’s won your little game, your pride simply won’t allow it—and neither will the lurid desire bubbling up from somewhere deep within you. You want to push him, needle him until he snaps, poke the bear until he takes a swipe. Not very smart for someone who’s definitely the prey.
He turns to face you as if he had been hoping you’d stop him. “Yes?”
“You should know,” you bait, letting your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up in wicked pleasure, “I like trouble.”
Tumblr media
Every day since your electrifying meeting has been an excuse to see him: hand delivering something that could have been interofficed, calling his office phone and inviting him to look over some course book in person, or volunteering to give him a tour of campus that happened to include lunch together. Boba’s like a burning sun and you’ve been ensnared in his orbit, your every phase and season given life by his heat.
When you couldn’t find an excuse to be around him, he found one; he came to make copies in the library because his department’s machine “never seems to work right,” the coffee shop gave him an extra pastry he “couldn’t possibly eat,” or the darn databases wouldn’t let him log in and you’re the “only one who can get them to work.” Even when your extensive partnership gathering his course materials came to an end, Boba was quick to offer you a spot in his office to work while last minute construction went on in the library before the start of the fall semester.
Boba’s office is tucked away at the end of a long hall in the gothic-style humanities building and quickly becomes your own personal sanctuary for the remainder of the summer. Its soaring ceiling and long, arched window gave a sense of lightness to the corner space, the natural light reflecting off the pale walls. Brass lamps with warm, golden light keep the room cozy when clouds roll in, along with the sumptuous oriental rug spread over the stone floor. Boba’s furniture is functional and comfortable; a large, sorrel leather couch sits perpendicular against the wall from his sturdy oak desk, accompanied by matching armchairs facing him for visitors. The walls are lined with bookshelves and cabinets housing his impressive personal library and mementos from his illustrious life.
It’s in this ivory tower oasis that your heart begins to grow into a softer shape and your mind settles into the rough-hewn grooves of the professor’s tides. The power of him both rouses and relieves, stirs and soothes; the shards of you are made into soft seaglass by the roll and drag of his waves against the sand. And oh, how you’re tempted to let him pull you under the glassy surface, to submit and let his current tow you to blissful paradise. You yearn to provoke his storms as well as seek his shelter from the harsh creatures of everyday life—you’re sure he’s going to be the end of you.
The week before classes start you’re slouched comfortably across the couch in his office. Sunlight dapples the room in a saffron glow through the forked leaves of ivy hugging the window as you’re half-heartedly responding to the numerous last minute item requests from harried professors. While most of them are smart enough to be polite, quite a few have decided to be rude, pain in the asses instead. 
You grumble loudly, throwing your head back against the cushion behind you. Your frustration is not helped by the fact Boba is extra good looking today, his white shirt is practically glowing against his sun-kissed skin and open a button lower than usual for the breezy weather—not that you noticed those kinds of things about him. Just like you definitely weren’t aching for his attention that’s currently wrapped up in class prep.
“Why do all these professors expect me to drop everything to attend to their specific requests like I have nothing better to do?” you huff, massaging your temples with your fingertips. “I do have an actual job besides course reserves.”
Looking over a pair of reading glasses, Boba leans back in his chair, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Must have seen you doing it for me, princess.”
You blow out a dismissive sound and roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re different.” Snapping your laptop closed, you manage to keep the pleased smile from turning up your lips. You have Boba’s attention now, just like you really wanted.
“Mmm, different how?” he hums, his intense gaze now trained on your face.
The heat of his assured, teasing confidence makes your guts churn. While your mutual physical attraction to one another is surely evident to both of you, you’ve been doing your best to hide the fact that he holds your heart in his hands too. No use ruining the good thing you have going with the handsome professor by admitting you have an honest-to-god crush with feelings.
Rolling over on your side so you can prop your head up on your hand, you find Boba entirely too smug for your liking. Putting on your most innocent face, you blink up at him with wide doe eyes. “Oh, you know me, professor, always happy to help you older folks figure out all the complicated technology involved in getting your books.” Despite your efforts, you can’t help cracking a grin at the end of your sentence.
That sparks the fire you hoped it would in Boba, his eyes glittering and his posture shifting forward in response to your goading. “Watch it, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
Heaven help me, he looks so kriffing good, his shoulders alone make me want to risk it all. “Don’t worry,” you grin, “I’ve never had any trouble swallowing what’s in my mouth.”
“Well, well, well,” a rich female voice interjects from the door, making you jerk upright. “If it isn’t the new Mandalorian studies professor going at it with the pretty little librarian. I should’ve known that I couldn’t trust you around her, Fett.”
“Fennec!” you exclaim, relief dousing your prickling surprise: she knew you were a tease. You scramble off the lounge and throw your arms around your friend. “It’s Wednesday,” you state, perplexed, “I thought you wouldn’t be back from your trip until Friday?”
She wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a satisfying hug. “Missed you too much, kitten, had to come back a little early,” she answers with her usual flirtatiousness. You don’t miss the way she winks at Boba over your shoulder as her palms slide over the small of your back when she pulls away. You secretly hope it will make him a little jealous.
“Never met a beautiful girl you didn’t try to seduce, have you Shand?” Boba pipes up from behind you, his tone familiar.
Your heart rate spikes at his compliment but you tamp down the heat threatening to creep up your face. Stepping back, you swing your head back and forth between the two professors. “You two know each other?”
Flicking her long braid over her shoulder, Fennec smiles, throwing a puckish look at the man behind the desk. “Oh, Boba and I go way back, long before either of us cleaned up and joined academia. Who do you think got him a job here?” she quips, sinking her weight onto her hip with her usual air of unapologetic fortitude.
“I got myself a job here,” Boba cracks back, his grumbling making it obvious he’s accustomed to Fennec’s ribbing.
She shrugs, grinning. “Don’t discount the power of a good word on the inside.” Slinging an arm around your shoulder, she loudly whispers in your ear, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing with a man like him anyways, kitten? Thought I taught you better than that.”
“Kark off, Shand,” Boba huffs, and Fennec throws her hands up in front of her chest in a showy apology.
Letting his languid gaze slide over to you, Boba studies the curves and planes of your body, mapping out each. You can’t squash the tingling glow buzzing in your chest at his attention, and your eyes sink down under fluttering lashes, your resolve weakened. “She’s a smart girl, she knows what she wants,” he finally says, releasing you from his inspection to smirk at his colleague.
The heat in your lower belly flares hot and wanting at his passive claim over you. Shit. Sometimes you wish he’d just shove your clothes aside and bend you over the nearest flat surface to take you for himself. Dangerous thoughts like those keep you up at night, wishing it his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy instead of your own. 
You drop back down onto the couch to buy yourself a second to regroup. Kicking your feet up in an act of collected indifference, you drawl, “Aw, don't you two go fighting over me, there’s plenty to go around.”
“Yeah, but Boba doesn’t like to share,” Fennec snorts.
You grin up at the dark-haired woman and prop your computer back on your thighs. “Good thing we’re just friends then, Fenn.”
“Lucky him,” she chuckles. Straightening up and drawing a breath, her jovial expression settles into something more sincere. “Well, I’ve got plenty to do for classes next week, just wanted to stop by when I heard your voices. It’s good to see you again.”
Genuine affection spreads in your chest as you look up at your friend; for all her teasing and bluster, Fennec has a heart of gold. “Glad you made it back safe, Fenn, we’ll get coffee and catch up soon,” you promise with a candid smile.
“Sounds good, let me know if you ever want some better looking company.” She winks at you then tosses her head in Boba’s direction. “Always a pleasure to see you still in one piece, Fett.”
Despite his glowering expression, Boba’s voice is warm. “Same to you, Shand. Just remember to always watch your back.” The sound of the dark-haired woman’s throaty laugh echoes down the hallway as she heads towards her office. 
When you look back at Boba, his mahogany eyes are already on you. They’re watching, as they often are, like you’re some fascinating phenomenon that might disappear if he doesn’t recommit it to memory repeatedly. “So you and Fennec are friends,” he states simply, leaning forward on his elbows. There’s something expectant in his tone, his demeanor hinting at anticipation. It makes the cozy atmosphere of the office crackle with intent.
You learned rather quickly that there was little use in trying to figure out Boba when he didn’t want to be figured, so you relax back into the couch and play along. “Yeah, she’s one of the first people I met when I started at the university. She took me under her wing and helped me find my way around here, she’s a good friend.” Before you can think better of it, you add, “But she’s only ever been a friend, despite what she might hint at.”
A small smile chips through the stony set to his features that makes your heart skip a beat. “Well that’s good to hear. Raises my hopes for your answer to my next question.” The richness of his voice belies any nervousness, if a man like him even feels such a thing. He always seems so sure, always in total control. 
Was he jealous of Fennec? Your mouth goes dry and you force your easy smile to stay in place; Boba’s focus is zeroed in on you and you'd rather die than slip up in front of him—he'd enjoy it far too much. “Oh, do tell, professor. I'm all ears,” you urge, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your cool with passing success.
His lips twitch up, amused with your brashness. “You’ve been more than helpful these past four weeks, little one,” he begins, “I couldn't have gotten everything done for my classes or had the peace of mind to get properly settled here.”
“Really, it's no problem, I don't-”
Boba raises a hand for silence and your jaw clicks shut in quick obedience—much to your embarrassment and his obvious pleasure. “Whether you mind or not,” he continues, “or if you feel it's your job, I greatly appreciate all your efforts.” He studies you for a moment and it feels like he can see right through to your insides. “Can I take you to dinner at the Vineyard this Saturday, to thank you for all you've done?”
Genuine surprise releases a stream of words pouring from your lips before you can even register them. “The Vineyard? Downtown? It’s so fancy, you don't have to do that. I mean it's like $100 dinners and-”
“You deserve it, princess. I told you you'd get everything you deserve, remember?” Boba smiles, the corners of eyes crinkling in a fond expression. “Plus, I enjoy your company… and I think you enjoy mine, too.”
Your poor heart is beating so hard in your ribs you’re sure Boba's able to hear it. The safety of him and his space have disarmed your usual defenses, sanded down the spear of your tongue; it’s equal parts freeing and terrifying, uncharted territory ripe with possibilities and danger. You’re left unable to deny his assertion—or form any real words—so you opt to arch a brow instead. 
“Don’t play coy, little one,” he chastens, his firm words and velvet tone skating over your heated skin. “I know construction in the library finished last week, yet you're still spending all your days in my office.”
Biting your lip, you do your best to look surprised. “Oh, really? I must have, uh, missed the memo on that,” you try lamely, scratching at the back of your neck. It’s a weak defense but it’s all you can muster at the moment, only half your brain is available to cobble together a response; the other half is too busy fighting the urge to leap over his desk and into his lap.
Boba chuffs a laugh, his handsome face all too knowing and his deep eyes sparkling with amusement—and maybe something darker, more sensual if you could bear to look. His reaction does, however, kick-start your customary attitude. 
Crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with the most sardonic look you can. “Well, I didn’t see you complaining, professor.” You tack on an eye roll for good measure as it never fails to get a reaction from him. And, oh, how you wanted to get one out of him, be the reason he’s loses his cool. Just the mere thought of it makes you ache.
Cocking his head to the side, he has the gall to look like he’s already won. “Why would I complain about getting what I want?” His face is drawn in a question, but his eyes flash with the answer.
“Well, you… you, er,” you stammer, suddenly unable to find a foothold. Boba had shaken the very earth beneath you with his admission, it has scattered your mind and rattled the bedrock of your resolve. The familiar nagging, forbidden desire to give in, to submit wells up in your throat; it would be easy, sinfully easy, to give up the fight and let Boba win. But easy’s never been my thing, has it?
Rolling back your shoulders, you mount your last stand. You let your head loll over to look at him directly, your eyes peeking out at him from under hooded lids. “And just what do you want, Boba Fett?” you answer, your voice husky and weighted.
The air itself thickens around you, dampening the outside world to something far away and unimportant as Boba contemplates his response. This is the impasse the two of you had been circling all along, choosing to precariously balance your brash determination against his indomitable will rather than risk tipping the scales. The only true solution is for one of you to give, but neither of you had yet been willing to break.
Finally, Boba’s lips part, a quick tongue darting out to wet the chapped skin. “I want,” he starts, low and deliberate, “to take you out to a nice dinner, have a good glass of wine… and have you all to myself.”
His words are etched in crystalline honesty and thus you have no choice but to respond in kind, even if it only skirts your shared quandary. “Then who am I to deny you, professor?”
Tumblr media
The rest of the week might as well not have even happened as far as you're concerned—all that mattered was making it to Saturday. Boba had dangled the promise of sweet reward in front of you and seemed content to watch you flounder your way to it over the intervening days. It also didn’t help that Selena could not shut up about it, even now as she’s standing behind you, pinning and primping your hair to her liking.
“Ooo, I can’t believe it’s really happening!” she squeals, sliding another bobby pin into place against your scalp. “You and the hot professor, going on a date to a romantic restaurant all dressed up! I bet he’s going to invite you back to his place after. Do you think he has a big… you know?”
“If you never finish with my hair, I’ll never have to know,” you grumble. Now that the time has nearly come, you’re about sick to your stomach with all the overthinking you’ve done. You almost talked yourself out of going three times before Selena even came over to help you get ready.
“Hey, none of that sad shit,” she chides, pointing a hairbrush at you in the mirror. “You’ve been dying to go on this date all week, you’ve just got a little case of nerves. Totally normal.”
“But what if he doesn’t actually see this as a date? He never actually said it was. Or what if he really just wants to sleep with me and ditch me after this?” You groan, flopping back against your vanity chair miserably. Your earlier suspicions about his mutual feelings for you had soured—now you’re not even sure he likes you. 
Selena thwacks the back of the head. “Ow!” you yelp, glaring at her in your reflection.
“Pull yourself together. Anyone within a mile radius of you two can tell you’re crazy about each other. Now sit still so I can get these pieces even,” she orders, centering you in the mirror with her hands on your shoulders. You do as she says, focusing on the practiced movements of her hands as a distraction for the feeling in your gut.
By the time you pull on your dress and slip into your shoes, you’re beginning to come back around to your usual self, likely in part due to the shot of tequila Selena convinced you to take with her—not that you needed much convincing to begin with. 
She hypes you up as she fastens the clasp of your necklace around your throat. “Shit, girl, you look hot! I’m not sure he’s going to be able to take his eyes off you long enough to drive to the restaurant.” 
“I do look good don’t I?” You flash yourself a smile in the mirror. After a trip to the mall yesterday, you and Selena had decided on a simple black satin slip dress and matching strappy heels. The deep “V” of the neckline and snug fit around your hips gave the dress just enough sex appeal while still being elegant. Twisting around, you check the lines of the dress in the back. “It’s too bad no one can see these panties, they’re so cute.”
“Oh, someone’s going to be seeing them alright,” Selena giggles from her perch on the end of your bed.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the girlish grin turning up the corners of your mouth at her insinuation. Shit, I hope he rips them off me. “Only if I decide he deserves to.”
“There she is, there’s the girl we know and love. Give him hell!” 
Your phone dings on your bedside table and your friend snatches it up before you can get to it. “Hey! Give it!” you demand, grabbing at the device.
Sliding up the bed out of your reach, Selena hunches around your phone. “He’s here! And he sent a bunch of heart emojis.”
Your nerves tingle in cold-hot anticipation, your face going slack in disbelief. “He did?!”
Selena bursts into laughter. “No, I’m just messing with you, he just said he’s outside.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you groan, snatching away your phone. “Go ahead and see if I keep helping you come up with texts to send all your gym rat side pieces.”
She lays a hand on her chest, feigning shock. “You would never. Now get out there and blow his socks off, or you know, whatever else you want to blow.” She smirks suggestively, shooing you towards the door. “I’ll lock up, now out out out.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going!” Your heart hammers in your chest and you consider another shot of tequila before dismissing it—no need to set yourself up to be any hornier than you already are for the Mandalorian professor. Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you’re out the door.
Leaning against a sleek midnight black Audi is Boba Fett in all his glory, dressed in a well-fitted pressed shirt (with the sleeves rolled up, damn him) and gray slacks. His salt and pepper stubble and dark eyes make his already handsome face look even better. Catching your appearance in the doorway, he juts his chin up in greeting, his eyes sliding over you in obvious pleasure. “Evening, princess.”
He holds out an arm and you take it to step off the curb, testing his muscles underneath your fingers as you do; if Boba notices, thankfully he doesn’t say it. He opens the passenger door and you step in, settling down onto the supple leather of the lush interior. 
He doesn’t close the door right away, instead standing and clearly enjoying the view down your dress. You glare up at him in mock annoyance. “You gonna stare like a dirty old man or are you going to take me to dinner, professor?”
“You’re the one who got all dressed up for a dirty old man, sweetheart, I figured you'd want me to enjoy it,” he replies smoothly, his lips quirking into a smirk as he shuts the door before you can manage a response.
Yep, these panties don’t stand a chance.
Tumblr media
“So, Fennec tells me you were some sort of deadly mercenary gun-for-hire before you settled down to teach the impressionable young minds of university students,” you smile cheekily over your glass of wine, swirling the sparkling contents around the cup’s curves. “That true?” Stars help me if it is, I don’t know if he can get any sexier.
The evening air is crisp and warm, a mild sea-breeze rustling the hem of your dress under the table. The scene laid out around you is so terribly romantic you have to pinch yourself a few times to make sure it’s not all part of the best dream you’ve ever had. Tables for two are scattered over a stone patio overlooking the sunsetted ocean, with glowing candles in their centerpieces and string lights criss-crossed overhead illuminating the space with soft light. 
Boba lets out an exasperated sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Of course she did. Don’t believe everything she says about me, she loves to tell a good story.”
“Avoiding the question, are we?”
“Sure you don’t want any dessert?”
“Aww, come on Boba, pleeease? Please tell me,” you whine playfully, sticking out your bottom lip for extra effect. He hadn’t denied you anything yet tonight—and you intend on keeping it that way. 
He sighs, resigned to his fate. “You’re going to be the death me, you know that, princess?” You squeal a pleased sound and lean in conspiratorially on both your elbows, eager to hear his answer. Tossing his napkin from his lap onto the table, he leans against the back of his chair and props his arm up, gazing at you over the candlelight. “I’ll tell you, but you have to answer a question of mine if I do. Deal?”
Running your teeth over your lip, you nod, blinking your eyes down to his crotch and back up to his face slowly so he’s sure to notice. “Yeah, we have a deal. Spill it.”
True to his word, Boba recounts what you’re sure is a heavily abridged version of his life before becoming a teacher. He was born on a rainy little island called Kamino and lost his father young. While his father was a Mandalorian, Boba himself didn’t necessarily consider himself to be one, hinting that he hadn’t felt the most welcome by his father’s people when he visited the island of Mandalore before it’d been nearly wiped off the face of the earth. 
Alone in the Mandalorian diaspora, Boba had turned to what he knew best to make his way in the world: fighting. Working protection gigs, “recovering property” (which no doubt was not entirely legal), and retrieving missing or abducted persons, he made a name for himself in that world as the best since his old man. It was also how he met Fennec, who apparently was one of the best espionage mercs money could buy, and why he had a ridiculous amount of money for a college professor.
“So why did you go into teaching then?” you ask, pushing your now empty glass aside. “Kind of an interesting choice considering your… previous profession.”
“Didn’t plan on it.” Boba drains the rest of his glass and sets it next to yours. “After one too many close calls, though, I knew I couldn't continue that life. All of that wasn’t-isn’t the legacy I want to leave behind. The death of my father and his heritage might have been out of my control, but I will not let it be in vain. So I took what I knew, learned what I didn’t, and started teaching in Mandalorian studies.”
You two sit in silence for a while, watching the tide roll in under the silver gleam of the moon. “Thank you for sharing.” Your voice is almost a whisper, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. He would've been so proud to see the person you’ve become, I’m sure of it.”
Boba tilts his head to the side, studying you as if you’ve said the most interesting thing the world has ever heard. “Thank you… that’s kind of you to say,” he answers quietly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you himself. The careful look in his eye makes you wonder what other secret burdens the handsome professor bears in silence. Even more so, it makes you want to shoulder some of it, or at least provide him some sort of relief.
The table off to your right bursts into hoots of laughter and the dusky spell between you is broken. You blink the haze out of your eyes and Boba clears his throat. 
“Time to pay up, sweetheart. It’s my turn to ask you a question,” he smiles, his white teeth catching the flickering candlelight. The faraway solemnity in his eyes is replaced with dark heat.
“Go right ahead, I’m all yours,” you grin back, “ask away.”
Signaling your server for the check with two fingers, Boba leans forward, taking your hand in his large one. “Tell me, little princess, am I dropping you back at yours after this, or are you coming home with me?” 
Tumblr media
—Endnotes: I don’t know anything about cars, I just know that Audi is a fancy car brand, at least in the US. Don’t judge me 😭. Also I guess this is a coastal university. I don't have a name for the school yet though, what do y'all think?
Part II>
Tumblr media
154 notes · View notes
thefact0rygirl · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
thefact0rygirl's boba fett masterlist
MAIN MASTERLIST 🪐 AO3 🪐 TAGLIST 
Tumblr media
Both my blog and masterlist are NSFW/Explicit 18+. Minors do not interact.
Tumblr media
series
Behave (completed)
In Hazardous Bliss (hiatus)
Tumblr media
one shots
Big
Late Night Romantics
Homecoming
daddy kink drabble
Fxck Around and Find Out
corruption kink drabble
sleepy time confessions
The New Mand’alor
Tell Me You Love Me (GN!Reader)
No Wastelands
On His Knees  
Taming a Loth Cat
Everything You Want (Male!Reader)
inexperienced reader drabble 
Fall Apart 
Tumblr media
blurbs
boba fett likes to see it drip
boba calling you ‘kitten’
boba always needing to touch you
service top boba
boba loving on your body
boba getting tired during sex
slow and passionate sex with boba
how it feels to be inside you
letting it slip you want to sit on boba’s face
your sexual debut with post-sarlacc boba
boba using a large vibrator on you
on your knees for boba
reader dirty talking boba   
Tumblr media
headcanons
giving boba’s tummy love and affection
telling boba you love him for the first time
boba’s reaction to seeing you in lingerie
what boba wants to do to/with you but is too scared to ask
making boba come in his pants
how boba shows you he loves you
boba, rex, wolffe, and fives sending you voice messages
using the safe word with boba
boba asking you for something
unintentional vs. intentional sex pollen
how boba likes to receive aftercare 
how boba cools down and makes up with you after an argument  
how boba makes his partner feel sexy 
boba and a partner with a low sex drive 
boba’s flaws when in a relationship 
dom!boba spanking you into place
boba, din, and rex accidentally walk in on you 
Tumblr media
boba fett x veterinarian!gn!reader
boba has a crush on veterinarian!reader
veterinarian!reader visits boba at the palace
boba comforts veterinarian!reader before his war with the pykes  
Tumblr media
requests
NSFW emoji prompts
five-sentence ficlets
drabble requests
Tumblr media
kinktober
2021
KINKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST ⚡️
Suspension 
Deep Throating (Boba Fett x Din Djarin x Fem!Reader)
Edging (GN!Reader)
2022
KINKTOBER 2022 MASTERLIST ⚡️
DAY 4: Size Difference 
DAY 12: Creampie (AFAB!Reader)
DAY 13: Overstimulation 
DAY 25: Threesome/Moresome (Boba Fett x Garsa Fwip x Reader)
DAY 29: Body Worship
Tumblr media
96 notes · View notes
beskarandblasters · 7 months
Text
Star Wars Fic Network!!!
I decided I wanted to create a resource for Star Wars fanfiction!!!
@starwarsficnetwork is going to be a blog for any and all Star Wars fics!! Reader inserts and character x character fics are welcome! The blog is currently under construction and looks a lil uggo rn but soon we'll have the theme, tagging system and masterlists going for y'all.
Currently myself and @wannab-urs are the admins and we're looking for two more!!!
If you're interested please fill out this google form
More coming soon!!
35 notes · View notes