#boba fett smut

[gloomwitchwrites]

Say Yes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

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

Word Count: 2.5k

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

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

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

“Marry me, cyar’ika.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff at female but decide to let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what?”

“Of what will change.”

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

“Yes, but—”

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

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.

We are one together.

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

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

We are one when parted.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

We share all.

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

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

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

We will raise warriors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is peace for a while.

Harmony.

taglist:

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[daimyosprincess]

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, alternate universe, contractor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, 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

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.

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.

#look y'all i wrote a fic about boba fett without calling him daddy for once 🙈 #strongly implied though no worries #zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #contractor!boba fett #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #an honest day's work fic

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕧𝕚𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕓𝕠𝕓𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕥𝕥

⋆ ★ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2023 ʟɪɴᴇᴜᴘ

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʙᴏʙᴀ ꜰᴇᴛᴛ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

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

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

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

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

You’ve never felt this small before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want me to continue?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He must love this.

You’d hope so, at least.

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

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

Boba can feel it.

“How many fingers do you need, baby?”

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

“Three?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you whine out,

“Thank you.”

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

#nour writes stuff #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the book of boba fett #tbobf #tbobf fanfiction #book of boba fett #boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett smut #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #star wars the book of boba fett #sw tbobf #sw #sw fanfiction #sw smut #x reader #reader insert #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[rexxdjarin]

just a lil boba filth bc im insane over him :)

Your whole body rocked back and forth as he took you. Your chest pressed against the mattress, your legs spread around his waist and your ass high in the air as he thrusted inside you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he filled you over and over again, spreading you wide and gushing around his firm length. You bit down on his blankets to keep yourself quiet, drool coating the cloth and drenching your cheeks.

The way he took you so powerfully with each snap of his hips left you incapacitated in the best way, totally at the mercy of his wrought muscles. He groaned and panted, his warm palms gripping your hips to angle you down. Though his body was hard and his grip even stronger, his heart was soft, loving and kind. His cock pierced deep into your belly and brought you mere moments away from creaming around it.

As you screamed in delight, he asked only one thing, whispering it in your ear as he bent himself over you. "Tell me you love me, little princess. Say it. Fuck. You love me like I love you, don't you? If you want me to fill you like I know you love, say it, mesh'la."

You cried out as he rammed your spot, your climax beginning to topple you over. "I love you. I love you. Daddy...Boba...I love you." Your walls collapsed around him and hot warmth coated inside your belly as he let out a pleased groan of climax and a delighted chuckle.

"That's my good girl...my princess."

-

adding my taglist bbys and any of my boba girlies💙

@sleepingsun501 @samspenandsword @marierg @queenquazar @wild-karrde @aerangi @starstofillmydream @daimyosprincess @acatalystrising

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #daddy daimyo boba fett #daddy fett my beloved<333 #boba fett smut

[saradika]

— JUST A TASTE

[bleed for me masterlist] | [fic preview]

vampire!boba fett x f!reader

rated e - 8k

tags: vampire!au, blood/blood drinking, vampirism, longing and pining, biting, masturbation, chosen mates (instead of fated mates), teasing, fingering, brief edging, mind-meld, implied aphrodisiacs, piv, marking

a/n: I thought it would be fun to write a halloween one-shot for Boba, in the same world as bleed for me. This is with a different Reader, so there are some references to the series, but you don't have to read to enjoy!

When Fennec Shand appears in town with her new red eyes, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before the Daimyo will be seeking a new Companion.

Luckily, you think you know just how to make sure he picks you.

Heat still lingers in your neck, your cheeks, as you slip from your tiny cottage to rush to the town square.

Cursing yourself for almost being late to the ceremony - a long table already in place within the old tavern, moved to the middle of the room. The old wood and stone ceiling blocking out the setting sun, making it safe.

He’s there. Your eyes find him right away - all that green against the shades of brown and grey.

The Daimyo.

Positioned at the head of the table, that helmet fixed in place. Looking like a ruler with the way he sits - so strong and straight-backed in the velvet chair, brought out just for him. It sends a shiver up your spine as you slip to the back, to give your own offering.

A small goblet, brought from home. The carvings in the wood smooth, burnished from the press of your fingers over the years. Curving petals worn down at the edges - traced over with your thumb, again and again.

It’s dull, next to all the gold and glass. The candles glinting off the gifts that line the long table - an ache still throbbing in the crook of your elbow, as yours joins the flight of others.

It's warm, in the tavern. Fuller than you've ever seen - bodies packed together. Your back presses against the thick wooden wall, standing on tip-toe to see over the pair in front of you.

Wanting to watch when that helmet lifts.

The tanned skin beneath, those red eyes that flicker in the candlelight. It's a rarity to see him this bare. Something precious that you tuck away, as your eyes rove over every detail.

You think he must be starving, from the dark shadows under his eyes. You can count back two months as to when Lady Shand had stopped walking through the marketplace in the day. Appearing again in her oil-blackened armor - a new, deadly quiet about her.

Everyone had known she would turn.

It had only been a matter of time.

Secrets were hard to keep, in a town as small as this.

You still had some. Others had theirs. Most you did not care about, but when it came to the coven of vampires, in their looming castle at the top of the tall hill - it had always been a fascination.

How beautiful - how benevolent - they are.

A hush settles over the crowd, as the first cup is lifted. Restraint shown in the tip of the glass, the single bobbing swallow of his throat as he drinks.

He could gorge. He could swallow every drop, but there's a carefulness in the way he moves.

Continuing the old tradition of the town - one that the Mand'alor had not followed. But after hearing of his searching - the path that had been so set for him - none of you could begrudge his choice.

The first goblet is placed back down.

His methods are unknown - he had arrived at the castle with Lady Shand by his side, already his Companion.

Would taste from each one?

Or stop, if one is pleasing to him?

Your odds are not in your favor, with the amount of offerings. Nothing stands out about your goblet - you had no gold, no bronze. Only an heirloom and yourself.

Fifth from the end, of a line of people who all had their own reasons to want to uproot their lives. Fortune. Pleasure. Running to something, or running from.

But did any of them see him for who he was? Like you did?

You don’t really care that he was a Daimyo, not really.

He could be anyone - a lesser lord. A commoner, like yourself.

Your wishes would stay the same.

It was what he had done, that had made Boba Fett a fixture in your mind.

To him, perhaps it had been a small thing.

Not worth remembering, in the life of someone who has lived for so long, with such experiences. Barely a blip, compared to the stories you'd heard.

Bounty Hunting and Rancors and Sarlaacs.

But to you, it had meant everything.

He had saved you.

Not in such a way as the Mand'alor had done for his Queen. That sort of saving would be written in song or word, someday, with the way the story was whispered in the streets.

There had been no witches, no fated meetings. No burned towns for Lord Fett to pull you from, to whisk you away to safety. No enemies torn apart, in revenge.

But it had been no less chivalrous.

It had been early in the day, and luckily so. Mid-morning and he would not have been out, not with what he was.

A few weeks into Spring, when your little stall in the market should have been blooming with your home-grown flowers, baskets of vegetables from your leased garden.

A late frost and a family of hungry rabbits had you far behind. On goods to sell and your payment for your use of the space. The few coins you had from the week before clutched in your fist as Lord Gorian Shard had loomed over you, demanding more than what you could spare.

Cutting down your promises to pay him back, if you could just have another week - a day, even. Deaf to your pleas.

You knew what you owed, but it hadn't been fair. Everyone knew he charged far too much for his stalls. But you had been desperate then, almost as much as you had been now.

A shadow had loomed, as every last silver and copper had been shaken from your coin purse. Tucked away into deep pockets, the pitiful amount added to what he already carried.

"Is there an issue here, Shard?"

The voice had cut through the morning haze was one you thought of often, the low timber. Slicing, like a knife.

You're sure you looked pathetic. Shard's hand gripping your forearm, pinching. The half-filled stall, the dust covering your tunic - swiped across your forehead from the back of your hand, while setting up.

But, the grip had loosened. And for the first time, the Merchant had lost some of his aloof, elitist air. A flash of worry crossing his features, as a Mandalorian had approached from the shadows.

His face had been covered, since dawn had broken - but there had been no mistaking him.

Boba Fett.

"No issue, my lord." Gorian Shard had smiled, his voice changing from the sharp tone he had used with you, "Just business, I assure you. Far too small for someone as busy as yourself, I'm sure."

There was a rough buzz from the helmet, the sound of a hum.

"How much more is owed?"

It became clear he had been listening. You hadn't looked to the shadows, and your heart had sunk. Embarrassment creeping around you, tightening like vines around your ribs.

“Fifty more gold." Shard had sniffed, making a show of checking his pockets.

Another hum, "A little early to be collecting payments, isn't? The quarter isn't for another month."

Shard had frowned, "I collect monthly, thank you."

Silence lingered then, for a moment too long. That worn green helmet flicked you way - your eyes only able to hold it for a moment, before they dropped. Examining the worn toes of your boots, wondering what he must think of you.

"Give us a moment."

You had thought he meant you - getting ready to step away, to give them some space.

Not expecting the helmet to snap towards the Merchant, as another order was growled out, "Did you not hear me, Shard?"

He had been too happy to oblige, quickly finding another debtor three stalls over.

You had also not expected the soft pouch of leather to be held out, pressed into your hands from Lord Fett's own belt.

Far heavier than your own, and you had immediately found the strength to meet his gaze again - to hand the gift back.

"I can't accept this." You had protested, "It is far too much, I can't pay this back."

He had considered you, for a long moment. You had wished you could see his face - your own reflected back at you. Pinched and worried and tired.

Pivoting gracefully, as he turned to look at your stall, "If you will not accept my help, then I wish to purchase your stock. Everything you have."

It's an out, for you. Another gift, a way to accept with what little dignity you had left intact.

Even if you were both aware that he had no use for your ware. That vampires did not dine on the food of humans. That the kitchens within the castle were already stocked with the finest goods available.

The gold had been offered, again. His voice low - almost gentle.

"Please do me this honor, my lady."

This bit of kindness, his voice, his honorifics - as if your presence had meant something, as if he truly considered this a favor to him - had stunned you. Enough that you had allowed him to press the pouch into your hand.

Enough that you had allowed the woman that had stepped to his side to pack up the flowers, the vegetables. Every single piece until your stall was as empty as it was, when you had arrived that morning.

Shard had watched, with narrowed eyes.

But - your debt had been paid. This month, and then the next. And then the next.

You began to look forward to his visits. Not for the gold, of course, but for him. The snippets of conversation - the solemn way he checked on you, the low timbre of his voice.

“Have you been treated well?”

“Is this enough?”

You’re sure you had looked foolish. Ankles crossing as you leaned across the booth. Trying to hide your smile but failing, as you protested. A game, you had played.

Always the same questions, the same answers.

“I can’t stop you from buying my wares… but I don’t want a copper more, my Lord.”

His fingers tapping twice on the wooden stall, before his reply.

“As you wish.”

Boba's kindness had changed your life.

The coin used to buy better seeds. Your little, rented home slowly filling out with warm bedding and good food and sturdy clothes - things you had always scrambled to find. Luxuries, before now.

And for a while, you had entertained the thought of leaving town. Saving up every gold piece, starting a new life.

You almost had enough.

But that had been before Lady Shand had turned. Before the rumors had spread that Boba Fett would be seeking a new Companion.

Your heart had twisted, with the news.

Jealousy. Longing.

It could be you.

He had become a fixture in your mind. Your evenings filled with daydreams. Keeping you company as you worked, dirt caking under your fingernails, as you imagined another life.

You could pay him back, in a ways. Show him how grateful you were, offering your blood - yourself - in exchange. You never would have dared hope before but this… this was worth trying, wasn’t it?

So, you did something risky.

Hoping it would pay off.

Hoping that perhaps… your feelings were not so singular.

It feels like you're holding your breath, as Boba moves down the table. Those cups handed over so carefully. That same, single taste from each one.

There's a tick of his jaw, at some. A pink peek of tongue dragging over a lower lip. No tells in his expression, no indication on where his mind leads.

And then, finally - he's at yours.

The wooden goblet hefted in his hand, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the etchings, like yours always did. Your fingernails biting into your palms, your heart pounding in your ears, an ache settling low in your belly - much like the one before, as you had been preparing.

And with the tip of a hand, he drinks.

The goblet lowers, as he swallows. A waver of his hand, as makes to set it back down to rejoin the others.

But then.... he pauses.

A lift of his brow, a slow tilt back - as he indulges in a second.

Before his eyes are sweeping across the room. Halting, when they find yours. The smallest lift of his lips, with his look of knowing.

Your cheeks burn, as he chooses you.

Everything happens so quickly.

Before you know it, you’re hoisted into a horse - whisked off to the castle that looms at the top of the hill. A promise to bring your things to you, though you’re sure it would take less than a wagonful.

Barely able to glance down the long halls, the ornate, stained glass windows, before there’s a hand at your elbow, guiding you.

A woman, younger than you. Quelling some of the unease at being in a new place with her gentle tone, as she takes you deep into the castle - up a wide stone staircase, through an ornate wooden door, and into a room.

It doesn’t appear to be his room, and you don’t know if you’re relieved or disappointed.

Bathed in shades of green and red and gold. Dark velvet curtains against the closed windows, blocking out the last rays of the sun.

Your guide parts from you here, a murmur that the ceremony will begin at sundown - that she will be back then to help you get ready.

Leaving you on your own to explore the space, until then.

A tall bed takes up the middle of the back wall, the frame a dark, carved wood. Thick blankets in tones of ivory and a rich forest green, lit candles on the wooden tables on either side.

There’s long wardrobe against the wall, the mirror glinting in the light. A ceramic vase painted with swirls of copper, roses and wildflowers spilling over the brim.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that some of the flowers almost looked familiar.

A door is half-opened to the left, next to the fireplace, the velvet chaise sitting in front of it. Already a thought lingers about how cozy the space will be in the winter, as you pad over to glance into the next room.

It’s all ceramic tile inside, opening up to a bathroom, The claw-foot copper tub filling with steaming water, and you long to slip into it, to wash the morning’s dirt from your knees.

And so, you do.

Your stripped clothes lie in a pile on the floor. A pleased hiss as you step into the water, the temperature tipping towards too hot. Sinking deep, up to your chin, as your head tips back against the rim.

It gives you time to think, as you all but float in the water.

Giddy, at the replay of the afternoon. That it had worked.

The way he had gone back, an indulgence. He had liked it - the taste of you - and that thought was thrilling.

A warmth settling in your bones, that had nothing to do with the water.

Picking apart the look in his eyes, where you felt certain he had been searching for you. It leaves you confident that your feelings had not changed.

The water is cold and you’re scrubbed clean by the time you leave. Lotions found on the countertop smoothed into your skin, the tired joints of your knuckles.

Fingers trace over the rack of robes you find next to the door. Soft silks and thick cotton and gauzy, see-through chiffon. Your cheeks burn at the thought, as you pull one out to hold it against you.

Imaging the red fabric against your skin. How little of you it would hide, in spite of it swishing around your ankles.

Eventually, you settle on something between the two - modest enough that you won’t be embarrassed to see your guide again.

Intentionally choosing something that reminds you of him - shades of green with thin, gold trim. The tie knotted carefully around your waist, skimming your thighs. The sleeves gathered at your forearms, the silky feeling luxurious against your scrubbed skin.

By the time you make it back to the bedroom, the edges around the curtains are dark - the sun long set. The blankets soft - the mattress dipping as you sit down on the edge, still taking in the room.

A knock comes, soon after. The gentle rapping of knuckles against the door - heavy as you pull it open.

Something flipping low in your belly, when you see your visitor.

Not the pleasant girl, who had chattered as she guided you up the steps. Smiling, as she bid you farewell.

It’s him.

Boba lingers outside your door, so unlike you’ve ever seen before. Clothed in black robes, his Beskar chest plate fitted on top. Your eyes follow down, seeing gloves and gauntlets, but no helmet - before you realize you’re staring. Your gaze quickly snapping up to his, already caught.

There’s a twitch of his lips. His own eyes wandering, though you missed them in your own exploration.

His voice low, amused as he asks, “May I come in?”

Heat licks at your skin as you nod - nerves skittering down your spine, at this unexpected development. Stepping back to allow him inside.

Ending up at the end of the bed again, your palms pressing into the bedspread to keep you from fidgeting.

“Is this room to your liking?” Boba asks, conversationally.

So casually, so pleasantly, that you’re frowning. Confused at his appearance. Assuming that he had come to feed - that he’d grown tired of waiting, his patience now thin.

“It’s beautiful,” You answer, honestly. Far finer than any room you’d seen before. The bath already feels like a dream, even though the perfume still lingers in your skin, “You are again too generous.”

“It is my pleasure.” His voice is low, his hands bracing against the chaise he stands behind, “By far the least I can do.”

A nod to your new situation. This new connection, binding you together. You knew about the ritual in the tavern, from the whispers from the Companions that visited your stall.

Flowers woven into their hair as they gossiped, your eager ears picking up everything you could.

But this, now, was unknown to you.

Was he just getting to know you? Or was there another step you were missing?

“Thank you, Lord Fett,” You smile. Fingers pinching at the blanket, gathering your nerves. A breath, before you can ask, “Are we… are we to begin now? I was told there would another ceremony.”

“Just Boba, please.” He clarifies, after a beat of silence - those dark eyes still fixed on you. That eye contact still holding, as his head tilts, “And yes, there is a ritual. When conducted, it takes place in front of the coven.”

It’s not an unpleasant thought. There’s something primal about such a ritual - the thought of him claiming you in front of his friends and peers.

Images leap to your mind, unbidden. Your imagining of the throne room, filled to the brim. Gathered up in his arms, the expanse of your neck appears as he dips you. Baring legs, baring arms, baring throat.

The flash of teeth, as they sink into your skin-

It takes another second, before you can gather your thoughts. Clearing your throat, as you ask, “Is that what you wish?”

“That would depend.” His steps are slow, as he rounds the chaise. Hands clasped behind his back, the green armor accentuating his broad chest.

“On?”

There’s the flash of teeth as he smiles, “On if you’re planning on changing.”

Heat flares in your cheeks, at the thought of your appearance. Acutely aware of the single layer that covers you, just a loose knot keeping the robe in place.

Is Boba Fett flirting with me?

Before you can answer, his head turns, “This ritual is more symbolic than binding. Any true decisions are made behind doors. We can continue here, if you’d like.”

You nod slowly. The thought of having him to yourself appealing, especially for the first night. A twinge of worry about the feeding - the crook of your arm still tender from where you were pricked to fill the goblet.

Not wanting to appear weak. Not wanting your desires to be laid out, exposed in front of everyone.

“I would not mind that.” You confess, “What kind of decisions do you mean?”

“There are many we can discuss.” His look turns thoughtful, “For one, your stall. If it is gold that brought you here, I would purchase it from Shard for you. You need not do this.”

That makes you blink - the offer kind. An unexpected, altruistic turn.

“No. That’s not why.” Your head shakes, “I’m here on my own. I wanted to-”

Your words cut off, afraid to say too much. A breath, before you add, “I have little other ties here. It was not the stall that brought me to the tavern."

Something in his face changes, a softening to that ever-steady mark between his brows. Those hands still clasped, as if stilling them, as he moves closer, “Are you not bound to another, ad’ika?”

“Do you mean a soulmate?” The question makes you blink - a little frown forming.

There were no marks on your skin. No ties to another, painted where their body had first touched yours.

You could find out. You want to joke, but it stays trapped on your tongue. A moment, before you shake your head.

“No.” A small breath, as you steel yourself, “I don’t believe in them.”

His expression flickers now - you’ve caught him off guard.

“You don’t believe? The Mand’alor has often walked the town streets with his. Do you doubt their connection?”

Curiosity tinges his words, and your head shakes again, “They were lucky, I think. And I think fate works for some. Just… not me.”

It’s as honest as you’ve ever been. Maybe he’ll laugh at you… but just maybe - he’ll understand.

Perhaps it had been luck that morning, when he found you. But fate hadn’t made him kind.

That had been all him.

And perhaps luck had also turned Lady Shand before you left - but it was you who had gone to the Tavern, goblet in hand. You who had leaned into his visits, tucking away each one.

“I’d like to think that I make my own decisions. That my own choices determine my path.”

“And is that what you’ve done?” He rasps, his eyes dark, “Made your choice?”

Your breath hitches at his tone, smooth and low. Managing a short, little nod in answer - not trusting ability to keep your voice level.

“Not all bonding is mates, little one.” He’s closer now. Enough that you can see the fine weave of his robes - the chips in his armor where a sword had peeled away the paint, “You know that, right?”

Your heart pounds in your ears - ignoring his question, as you manage to ask your own, “What do you want?”

His head cocks, the candlelight catching his eyes. That burgundy shimmer darkening. You find yourself holding your breath as you wait for his answer. Watching the way his lips pull in a smile, revealing the sharp points of his teeth.

“Oh, what do I want?” He repeats, slowly, softly. “I want you to show me what you did to make your blood so sweet.”

His voice drops then, as he moves closer, “And then I want to taste you for myself.”

Your breath comes in a ragged gasp. He knew?

The whispered rumor about making your blood near irresistible had been trusted, but you never thought he’s be able to tell.

His laugh is soft, “Are you getting shy on me now, sarad?”

Heat licks at you, embarrassment and desire swirling together into a heady combo. Your thoughts slipping between your teeth on their own, “How did you…”

Boba clucks his tongue, “It’s been a while, little one. But not that long.”

That snags in your mind, your attention shifting. You frown, fingers twisting around the silk ties of your robe, “What do you mean?”

His eyebrow lifts.

There were rumors that Lord Fett and the now Lady Shand were not romantically linked. But it had never been confirmed, and part of you had worried you were going to end up in a precarious position.

Not that you minded sharing.

“You’re stalling.” He chides again, “If I misunderstood, then-”

“You didn’t.” You’re quick to correct, the band of silk pinching around your fingers, “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

His lips quirk at your answer, your boldness. An arm braces on the foot post of the canopy bed, close enough that your thigh brushes his hip.

“It has been a decade since I’ve drank from the throat of a creature as lovely as you.” His hand lifts, the back of his knuckle brushing against your neck.

No mark blooms under his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t need one to want him, or to love him. All you need is your heart - beating so fiercely, as that knuckle drags down to the hollow of your throat.

His fingers unfurling until the tips drag against your sternum, as your heart drops to beat between your thighs.

In a moment of bravery, your fingers tug on the tie. The knot loosing, and then pooling around your hips as the edges of your robe part, falling open.

His eyes follow, tracing your curves as they come into view. The rich fabric like a caress against your bare skin as you shift further back on the bed. Legs uncrossing as he steps between them - forcing them to nudge wider.

Heat pools in your belly, with his proximity. The knowledge that he truly intends to watch - close enough that his fingers could brush your skin, with how he bends - pressing his palms against the mattress.

Framing your thighs, as you lower yourself to your elbows. Nearly on display, the fabric still bunching at your waist, keeping you hidden.

If you hadn’t thought about him so often, perhaps you’d be a little more shy. But there was something so intoxicating about this. So honest and earnest in his tone - making you believe that because he said it so, he truly wanted to see you.

And you wouldn’t deny your Lord of anything.

Your eyes flip up to his, watching how he waits. Those hands still pressed flush, as his eyes rake over your form - an attempt to keep his hands from wandering.

But yours are not to tied down. Yours drift - trailing along the soft green hem. Down, towards the valley between your breasts.

It has you wondering if he can hear the way your heart kicks up a notch. At your touch, your intentions.

You think he must, with the way he shifts between your thighs, waiting.

The silky fabric pebbles at the tight peaks of your breasts. Soft as your fingertips run across them - a creak of his leather gloves with your soft sigh, as his fingers curl into the bedspread.

His eyes darker still, as you let your robe part further. Knuckles pinching, dragging over bare skin before drifting towards your navel. An urge to press your thighs together, an ache at the thought of things to come. At his words, already given.

There’s a rough noise, something gritted out that you miss, when the robe parts fully. When Boba can see you fully, his eyes dropping to where you’re slick already. Swollen and soft and warm, a pink tongue peeking out between sharp teeth at the sight.

A half-formed thought to tease - fingers parting yourself open. Your strokes slow, to dip slowly into your heat.

But it feels impossible to do so, with him watching. The second you slip against your skin, you’re sighing - quick to press and circle, your hips jolting into your touch.

He knows it’s for him. You can’t even pretend you’re still wet from before - those hours and that long, warm bath passing between then and now.

No, it’s his words. His voice, those suggestions.

Him.

From this angle he can surely see how you shine already. Knees pressing into his hips as your muscles clench, toes curling.

Can he see how your pulse thuds? How your blood races down, to where you ache?

The press of your fingers makes you whine, eyes taking in the expanse of his chest. Flicking down to where his hand rotates, gloved fingers touching down on the bed - moving to press against the curve of your thigh.

He watches your fingers, the way they press. Memorizing what makes your muscles clench, the soft sounds of your sighs.

You want his hands on you - to feel the strength of them for yourself. Molding you into his image, to touch you however he wishes.

To take you, as he tastes you.

It has your leg pressing into his touch, teeth biting into your tongue to keep you from begging.

“You want something.” His voice is soft, his eyes unreadable, “I can feel it, radiating from you.”

The air hisses through your teeth, sparks of pleasure pulsing where your fingers press. Slowing and stuttering at his words.

“You,” The word is sighed out, your eyes meeting his dark ones, “I want you.”

He smiles then, and it’s almost cruel. Teasing.

His hands curving around your thighs, moving slowly against your skin. Up until his thumbs are brushing against your inner thighs, nudging them wider apart.

“You managed just fine, before.” There’s a lilt to his voice, the raise of an eyebrow, “Or did you have some help?”

Your fingers slow as your brows knit, distracted by his question. How his fingers bump against yours, so close to where you burn - but still not touching.

“No,” Your head shakes, “I didn’t.”

I just thought of you, you want to tell him. I thought about this.

“Good.” He husks, and his hands leave you. A little whine slipping past your lips as he brings a hand to his mouth - using his teeth to rip the gloves from his fingers, “I only want your blood singing for me.”

It makes you clench, lips parting just in him for him to arch over you - a bare hand flattening against the bed near your ear. The other dipping between your lips when they part for him, sliding past blunt teeth.

You groan around him, cool and solid as they slip across your tongue. His eyes growing darker as your lips close around to suck, his thumb stroking the underside of your chin.

It’s bliss. Your mouth so beautifully full and busy as your fingers work, aiding your steady ascent towards euphoria.

All too soon they slide from you, leaving your lips glossy. Trailing down your chin, before dropping to fit between your thighs.

He didn’t need to, you’re already so wet. The tip of index finger slipping beneath yours, teasing at your opening. Sliding into you easily as you arch into his touch, feeling the fullness of having him in you. Already a bit of a stretch, and you squirm at the thought of more.

“So warm and wet.” His tone is almost reverent, his eyes dropping to your mouth, “I’d almost forgotten.”

Watching how you pant as his finger plunges deep, the pull of your brow as he slips from you, only to fit two inside with his next thrust.

Angling his wrist so he can curl them inside you, stroking against slick walls - finding a place that had your breath coming in a ragged gasp.

You’re close already. It had been easy, with him so close. Looking at you so hungrily, as you brought yourself closer. The feel of his fingers, filling and stroking you, teasing against that spot, has your muscles winding tight.

Boba shifts, leaning back. The hand pressing against the bed moves to wrap around your wrist, halting the needy circle of your fingers.

Your mounting pleasure plateaus, a frustrated sound in your throat. His fingers still fucking you, but that sharp edge slips from your grasp.

“Slower.” He rasps, pinning your hand down. Only allowing the tips of your fingers to each, “Need to get you ready for me. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You moan - automatically, without thought.

The thought makes you tighten around his, squeezing his fingers. His smile pulls to show sharp teeth, the slick slap of his fingers loud where they press into your pussy.

“Gods, I can feel you. Do you want it that bad, ad’ika?”

Your mind swirls, the weight of your tongue making it impossible to answer. Even with the tiny flick of your fingers, you can feel the pleasure in your belly start to crackle and burn.

That pressure increasing, each breath no more than a high gasp. Your vision starting to grow blurry, eyes heavy with lust, all of your concentration focused on the sweet spot between your thighs.

His name is torn from your throat, as you come when three fingers fit inside you. Crooking and stroking against your walls as you bear down around them, as he can feel how you pulse.

It drowns out your pleasure from before - hurried movements in the privacy of your home. You’re alight now - basking in the low hum of his words. Blurring at the edges, slipping through your fingers.

Fuck, that’s it.

My sarad, bloom for me.

Can’t wait to taste you.

The hand lets go to press against your hip, pinning you down. Making you take the steady pump of his fingers, as he draws it out.

“You can. Can taste me-” You gasp, your own fingers now still. A twinge that tips towards too much, as you grasp at his wrist. His hand staying buried in you, as his other curls around the back of your neck.

You brace for the bite, as your head tilts to offer your throat. Know it was coming from the start - eager to offer yourself in every way you could.

Not expecting the way he leans over you again. The ghost of warm breath before the press of his mouth against your pulse. Inhaling your scent as your heart flutters in your throat, the haze of your orgasm settling over you.

A rough sound as you moan, as he moves higher. Teeth nipping at your jaw. Realization swirling as there’s the hungry press of his mouth against yours - your own hands scraping across armor, grasping at his robes.

Curling around his shoulder to hold him to you, as you melt further. His lips are soft - yours are already parted, welcoming the dip of his tongue. Your legs hitching around his waist as his weight presses into you.

It’s comforting. It’s enveloping - your sigh swallowed as his hand slips from you. Pulling back from your mouth, as your head rising to chase after him.

Meeting those fingers instead - slick with your release, pressing against your lower lip. His own tongue swirling against one, as you share the others.

Your teeth graze, bite down on his fingers. His groan low as mouths meet again - with your taste on his tongue, with his hips pressing down against yours. Grinding himself against your bare skin, where you can feel the hard curve of his arousal.

“See how good you taste?” He rasps, lips brushing your cheek. “Fuck, can’t get enough.”

His arm curls around your waist, slick fingers shoving between mattress and your back. Lifting you like you’re nothing, with his enhanced strength. A flip in your belly and a little yelp, before you’re set back down.

Boba’s back rests against the ornate headboard. Your thighs spread wide around his waist, straddling him. The soft robe you wear dips down across your back, the fabric nestled in the crook of your elbows.

Hands splay across his chest, cool skin and hard muscle beneath. His eyes on the expanse of your skin - the slope from your neck, to your bare breasts beneath. That hand anchoring the back of your neck again, thumb sweeping the soft spot beneath your ear.

His eyes burn. Glittering embers in their depth, the sharp points of his teeth showing between parted lips. Something inside you stirs - know deep down that he truly means to taste you now.

To drink from you, as your head tilts back to offer the soft skin of your throat.

“It will hurt, a little.” He warns, voice low. Rough, as if he’s holding himself back, “But I’ll make you feel good. I promise, mesh’la.”

Your fingers twist in his robes. Eyes fluttering shut, as you wait for it to come.

But he has one last request, an edge to his voice that that fixes your attention.

“Keep your eyes open for me.”

It’s your last warning, before he’s leaning forward. The soft brush of his lips against your jugular, before he’s biting down.

There’s twin pinches, as your skin gives beneath his teeth. A burning throb as you gasp - unable to help the way you flinch, stiffening in his arms.

He groans against your neck as you flood his tongue, and there’s the sensation of pulling, the soft suck of his mouth.

But the pain does not linger. It soon bleeds into something more, that sharp edge twisting and transforming. That thudding in your neck tipping downwards. Past your chest, past your belly.

Nestling between your thighs with a very different kind of ache. One that has you shifting against him, the roll of your hips as he keeps you pinned with his teeth.

The robes he wears are thin. Not ones that go beneath his armor during the day, or to travel. Soft and fine as your fingers curl into the fabric at his shoulders.

Not at all concealing his need for you, something that stretches deeper than the urge to drink. Boba is stiff beneath you, his hardness trapped beneath the layers of cloth and your bare cunt.

Each squirm presses him against you. Something flickering in your mind, a sort of mirror to your pleasure. It feels like it strings out, wrapping around your limbs, tethering you together.

His teeth unlatch, when you reach down. A desire from deep inside to touch him, fingers sliding against fabric. Dampened from you, from the slide of your hips, the way you feel like you will burst, if he’s not inside you.

“Taste so godsdamn sweet.” He groans, tongue tracing over the marks on your neck. Where the blood still beads out, sweetened by your orgasm, “Knew it was yours, the moment it touched my tongue.”

Pulling back, to bring his mouth to yours again. He tastes like iron, like you - as your hand curls around him. Achingly hard under your touch, as your fingers trace down the curve of him, finding the edge of his robes.

“Fuck. You can have it, ad’ika. It’s yours if you want it.” His eyes are brighter, those shadows under his eyes less defined.

Hips lifting so you can draw him out, so smooth and heavy in your hand. On another day you’d want to stroke it yourself, feel the weight of it on your tongue. But you’re too desperate now. Already rising up on your knees, the robe parting like curtains at your hips.

The kiss breaks and there’s a soft protest as you line yourself up. Not for you to stop, for you to slow - merely for to take your time.

Though there is no desire to. The time you’ve already taken feels far too long, in this moment.

His hands move - sliding down to your hips. Resting there as you take him, the sharp stretch has the thick head parts you, as you slip down onto his cock. Even with the stretch of his fingers, it still feels like too much. A ragged gasp as your nails sink into his skin, though the fabric of his robes.

It twines with the pulse in your throat. Your fluttering heartbeat, the way you make room for him to fit inside you. His thick fingers flexing against bare skin as he bottoms out, as your thighs finally rest against his.

“Gods, you feel so good-” You keen - as you go still, for a long moment.

Breath caught in your throat, eyes widened as he watches. He shifts beneath you, the flexing of his legs as they stretch out beneath you. It moves him - a shallow thrust deep in your belly. That pleasure sparking, blending with the buzzing of your blood in your veins. Another roll of your hips, and then another.

Hands unfurling, slipping up to brace on his shoulders. Using them to aid your movements - the slow lift and drop that speeds up, as you get used to the feeling of him inside you. The way each stroke sends him against your walls.

His eyes are hazy - blood-drunk off you. Muscles strung tight as he lets you set the pace. Bouncing on his cock until you tire yourself out, until you beg for him to help you. Holding himself back, as your blood lingers on his tongue.

Your thighs burn with the effort. Head dipping down to see where he watches, the lounge of his shoulders against the headboard. How pretty you look, stretch around him. Something so fitting about how bare you are, against his layers - the edge of his armor, that bites into your wrists.

His fingers drift down from your hip, around the curve of your thigh. The pad of his thumb pressing against your clit again.

Following the rise and fall of your hips, circling against you the way he had watched yours move.

You swear you feel him throb in you, when his eyes raise. Lingering on your chest, the sticky smear of crimson against your skin - an errant drop from his eager drinking.

It’s then, that the scales tip. His body moving against yours - a hand wrapping around your back. The shift of his hips as he lurches forward, until it’s you that is pinned beneath him, back pressed against the mattress.

He’s deeper like this. Hips snapping into yours, as you cry out. Head dipping down, his tongue dragging against your clavicle. Down, to lap the trail blood from your skin as he groans.

You back arching into his touch as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your breast, a soft cry as his fingers find the other, trapping the tight bud between his knuckles.

“Could feel how much you wanted this.” His voice is a low rasp. Your thighs wrapping around him as he ruts into you. A circle of his hips grinding against your clit, slick and swollen from your connection.

Feeding off him, in your own way. Something sweet and heavy slipping through your veins. Your skin feels too sensitive - all your nerves alight under his touch. Head tilting back against the blankets as his weight settles over you.

As that feeling builds up again, faster this time. Racing, with the stretch of his cock. The way his hips roll back. Leaving you to clench around the tip, before plowing back in.

You’d never considered your mortality before, but it flickers in your mind now. Just how delicate you feel. A true vampire lord, able to crush you if he wanted.

Instead, he touches you gently - as his hand finds your wrist, his fingers curling around. A swipe of his thumb against your skin as he reaches to pin it against the bed. The other tucking beneath you, cupping the back of your neck again.

It sends another wave of heat between your thighs. The pound of his cock even louder than the press of his fingers, your slick arousal audible - layering with your cries.

There’s a warning on the tip of your tongue - the words coming out slurred instead. A soft, panting groan. Your heels digging into his lower back, eyes fluttering shut as he grinds himself against the spot he had found with his fingers.

“Twice wasn’t enough, ad’ika? Going to come again?” You can hear the grin in his words How it’s an inevitability, with the way he moves in you.

Unable to look away, with the way he holds you. Not that you’d want you, you think - even if you could. The fix of his gaze feels like a gift, bestowed upon you.

Captivating, with the way he soaks in every minute movement. The sweep of his eyes as he watches you start to fall apart beneath him.

You want to feel him again. That pounding surge inside your veins, that sensation of feeling even more connected than you already are.

So, you beg him for it. Eyes heavy-lidded where they find his. Your words punctuated with the hitching of your breath as you guide him down to your throat, with eager hands.

“Bite me. You can, I’m yours-”

Your pleas are impossible to resist, when his own pleasure thrumming in his belly.

He bites higher, this time. In a spot that even your tallest collar won’t hide, teeth pricking skin. Your cry turns into a groan as the rapture courses through you, seeping into your veins. Flooding his tongue, as he drinks again.

You shatter. Caught in his grip, unable to squirm with his teeth in your neck. His weight pinning you down as you pulse around his cock, your cry high and broken in the castle room.

He groans into your skin. The suck of blood over teeth, tasting how it turns sweet. Flushed with your ecstasy, an endless loop between his teeth and the tight clench of your cunt as you come.

For a moment, your eyes flutter closed. Images flicker behind your eyelids - shown as if you were outside yourself.

Red petals against green. Your perception darkened, as if behind a visor. Visions of you, leaning over your stall. Surrounded in a wreath of flowers, hand-picked from your garden.

A throb in your chest, one that blooms - skittering down your spine, settling low in your belly. Almost like butterflies, with how their wings feel like they flutter.

The sensation disappears too fast to make sense of - breaking, as he lets go.

Red smeared across his lips as the steady thrusts become short, messy. Fingers biting into your skin with the slap of his hips, the harsh grunt that turns into a ragged groan.

Hovering over you, as he notches himself deep, one last time. The column of his throat lengthening as his head tips back - it takes everything to resist the urge to make your own mark, as he spills messily inside you.

Throbbing, chasing the high with the grind of his hips.

His eyes losing that sharp edge, when his head tips down. Soft and warm, a sunrise welcoming a summers day.

Everything moves slowly, after. The lazy relaxing of muscles. The tilt of his lips when you whine, when he slips from you. His fingers slow, sweeping - as they dip down. Teasing where he drips from you, as your mouth finds his again.

Tender, as the robe is fully stripped from you. Boba’s words coaxing and patient, as he shows you the strap of his armor. How to take him apart, until you match - a perfect pair.

The aches that linger in your muscles are soon soaked away in the bath he draws. Your second today - a true luxury. The ceramic tub large enough for your back to cradle against his front.

You don’t think you ever want to leave.

Drowsy and content, his cool fingers welcome against your neck. A salve smeared carefully over the marks from his teeth. A promise that your skin will heal by morning, soft and smooth again - unmarried by his touch.

You think next time… you’ll ask if they can stay.

You’re warm against him.

Boba hasn’t been warm in years. Too used to his skin, carved from stone. Forever unchanging.

But you - you’re supple. Soft in his hands, molding yourself to fit the curve of his chest, where you cheek nestles. A thigh splaying over his waist, fingers splayed out against his stomach.

There’s much he should be doing. The sun has set some hours ago, and there’s a long list of things that need his attention.

But for now, for this moment, he will stay. Just a little longer, before he’ll slide out from beneath you, slipping away like a shadow.

You stretch against him, calf pressing into his thigh. Words heavy with sleep and exhaustion, so soft in the night air.

“��m glad you picked me.”

There’s a stirring, in his chest. Where he thought he was long-dead, his palm pressing down where it rests against your back.

The briefest moment before he’s answering, an idle threat as a deflection.

Hushing you instead, his voice low, “Sleep, little one. You’re mistaken if you think I’ve had had my fill.”

You can’t help the smile, even as your teeth bite into your lip to stifle it. Squirming against him, the press of your center against the curve of his hip.

A low hum of amusement in his chest, as the arm that stretches beside you curls up - tucking around your ribs, nestling you a little closer.

He listens, as your breathing grows slower. Until you’re drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

Only then, does he let his mind wander. Back to the place where it had been earlier that evening. When he teeth were bared, that moment where his armor had been so thin.

“Don’t close your eyes.”

If you had, you would have seen.

Peeling back his memories, discovering just how often he had strayed down to the marketplace, after your first meeting. Not for gold or for payment. Only to catch a glimpse at the girl that had burrowed under his skin.

Somewhere along the way, changing from a casual observation - making sure Shard kept away - to something far more intimate.

Something akin to longing, if a man like Boba Fett could feel that way.

You would have felt - when the goblet raised to his lips for the second time…

Just how much he had hoped it was yours.

ad'ika - little one | sarad - flower | mesh’la - beautiful

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 🥺💕 I wanted to explore some of the same themes but in a new way for Boba (rejection of fate, the intentional in the way they seek each other out, instead of the pull of soulmates) - I just thought that would be so fun. I hope you liked this! 💖

tagging some pals!: @margofiore, @marieg, @wingofshadow, @reaperofmen, @bobaprint, @phoenixhalliwell, @csboz, @imarvelatthestars

#vampire!boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut

[sleepingsun501]

Good Morning, Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!reader

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

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI)

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

Word Count: 2k

Ao3 link

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

Good Morning, Princess

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Together, baby. Cum with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

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Taglist: @wild-karrde @rexxdjarin @baba-fett @samspenandsword @ariadnes-red-thread @get-wr3ckered @liadamerondjarin @starstofillmydream @kaminocasey @twistedstitcher27 @meshlaxbunny @erellenora @corrieguards @the-cantina @briefartnaturewolf @zerohski @redheadgirl @wolffegirlsunite @commander-sunshine @cw80831

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#boba fett #daimyo boba #star wars #the book of boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett smut #nsft

[acatalystrising]

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 🙃

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

#small favors fic #oh goodness gracious this almost killed me #I am melting #boba fett can get it #boba fett #dom!boba fett #daimyo boba fett #daddy boba fett #boba fett smut #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x reader smut #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett fanfiction #the book of boba fett #star wars #tbobf #book of boba fett #acatalystrising writes #my writing

[drawingdroid]

Boba Fett x Medic Fem Reader Imagine

Smut | 198 words |

Prompts:

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

117 "Your wish is my command."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#the book of boba fett #tbobf #boba fett #boba fett x you #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett smut

[echoedcrosshairs]

His Queen ~ Boba Fett x F Force User Reader

Summary: You and Boba use to be a thing before he fell into the Sarlacc pit and since returning he hasn’t reached out so you decided to make the first move to see if the flame still burns.

Warnings: smut, mild talk of violence, unprotected sex, PiV, dirty talk, gloved fingering (f), creampie, age gap if you squint, cockwarming, exhibitionism, jealousy, mild breeding kink if you squint, possession if you squint, regret, helmet kink, dom/sub/switch play

Word count: 6.2k

You leaned back into the large throne noting that it needed some serious pillows and padding. Two Gamorrean guards walked in with their weapons draw advancing towards you. Your lips curled in annoyance but you allowed them to come to the edge of the throne before extending your hand and making one fall before you used him as a foot rest.

"Make yourself useful, get me something to eat and tell the Great Daimyo that The Queen is here," you purred making yourself as comfortable as possible.

The other guard ran off and the one under you stayed still, it's probably been a long time since they seen a force user let alone a women who wields it like a weapon. You're kind trailed off remembering Boba and how long it had been, anger trying to boil over that he survived and didn't try to contact you or even let you know. You tilted your head back against the throne assuming the other one wasn't coming back with food. The quiet foots drew you out of your memories, you looked up to see a woman with a bright orange helmet pointing a rifle at you. You rolled your eyes but then you saw the dull shine of green beskar approaching. Your heart fluttered but you restrained yourself to keep from jumping up.

"How does my milady like the throne?" He said helmeted taking the knee before you, his hand motioning for the woman to lower her blaster, "Does the Queen request a tour?"

"New pet?" you said eyeing the woman with annoyance, she was a little older then you but definitely his type.

"No, my body guard and dear friend."

"You? Need a body guard? Tsk. Fine you may rise," you said with a small smile pulling your feet off the guard, "I am simply known as The Queen," you said offering a small courtesy to the woman, "You are?"

"Fennec Shand."

Boba walked up and took your arm in his, "You didn't answer the question about the throne," he teased.

"Pillows, lots and lots of pillows."

"Why do they call you The Queen?" Fennec asked curiously following several paces behind both of you.

"I am kind yet cruel, authoritative yet yielding, and because of this," you said moving a finger bending her rifle chamber up and then straightening it.

"A force user?" She said looking at her rifle.

"One of her many talents," Boba chipped in, "Quiet the bounty hunter, gave me a run for my credits time to time." 

"And thankfully you decided I was benevolent enough to partner up time to time," you winking holding his helmeted gaze, knowing his perfect brown eyes were staring at you, "but someone's noticeable absence has left me quiet malevolent," the softness in your face faded to an icy glare.

He pulled you closer "It might have escaped My Queens mind that I have been quiet busy."

"Getting wise in your old age," you purred, "thankfully for you it was not a crime that I could not forgive with time," you felt his gloved finger under your chin, his other hand ripping up his helmet just enough to expose his lips.

"Forgive me, My Queen. You should have known I would eventually have set every ship at my disposal to find you and bring you back to me," he said bringing your mouth to his allowing his lips to apologize, "I am sorry," he finally whispered, your name fall silently from his lips like it was the most guarded secret in the world letting his helmet fall back into place.

"So have you given up bounty hunting?" you said looking out the grand windows to the endless sand, "and the code?"

"I'm a simple man making his way through the galaxy," his whisper seemed to echo against the stone, "I'm not ready to give it all up, a man has to remain battle ready until his prime has long since faded and mine has not," he said walking again, "but this is home and where I belong now."

"I've missed you, Boba," you whispered the sentiment betraying your demonstrative cold behavior, "but how dare you say you would not come for me yourself."

"You were never far from my thoughts," he said squeezing your hand, the leather's warm embrace made you smile, "but I did have obligations here to attend to first"

You pouted, annoyed but understanding what little you knew of him now coming to rule clearing it of the spice trade and other criminal notions. "No massive fire pits?" You purred, "I'm almost disappointed however I do feel the rancor your bonded too, it almost makes up for it," you said letting your free hand trail up his arm touching the cool beskar.

"I have yet to renovate since moving in, hopefully I can have more of your input if you stay maybe a fire pit or two for old times sake although I don't think there are many enemies left to char."

"There are always enemies in the shadows, you know that well. But we'll see I am quiet the busy Queen places to see, people to kill, credits to collect."

"A Queen whose only ever been ruled by me," he whispered leaning towards your ear, "or do you need a reminder My Queen?"

"You have Mos Espa yours to rule now instead," you hissed back but he knew you liked it, Boba always knew when something suggestive landed but he would never tell you what the tell was.

You watched him give Fennec a small dismissive nod to Fennc, she offered a small bow to us before leaving. Boba grabbed your arm tighter guiding you in a new direction. The smell of a kitchen tickled your noses. The dining room was grand lined with empty tables and chairs with an ornate engraved table designed for four at the very back overlook everyone.

"A feast tonight in your honor?" He asked.

"Showing your beautiful guest off to your subjects? How bold."

"No one would dare try to steal you from me," his gloved finger traced down your cheek towards the back of your neck, grabbing it, "I'll make sure of it."

A heart beat fluttered in your lower extremities pulling with excitement over such a delicious threat. You couldn't see into the visor but you knew by heart where his eyes were and you stared at the positions where they were wishing you could see the look on his face and the intensity, "What if I wanted them to dare as punishment to you."

Boba sighed knowing he wasn't going to win this. He knew you were hurting because he hadn't sent for you or tried to reach out while both of you were never spouses before due the nature of the job there was always a spark and undeniable tension both of you tended to give into after a bounty but now time had gone by and he had never bothered to speak his heart. Boba could sense the sand in the hourglass trickling, you coming and teasing him back after all this time was a silent offer of chance to atone and amend his mistake. "If that is what The Queen deems a suitable punishment so shall it be," he said cautiously removing his hand from your neck and tilting his head forward in offering, "A suitable punishment for this fool of a man for losing so many glorious opportunities to enjoy time with such a lovely creature such as yourself."

"My thoughts exactly," you said resting your forehead against the cool metal of his beskar. It made your heart flutter at the sentiment and meaning of it, he gave your forehead a little tap with his and a smile broke out across your face, "Going soft on me?"

"Never," he replied taking a few more deep breaths before pulling back, taking your arm and guiding you in another direct, "I assume you have plenty of sinfully tasteful fitting dresses with your luggage or do you want to see how Mos Espa looks on you?" he stopping at a crossroads in the hall.

"I had one especially made before coming in case I needed to get your attention " you teased, "I can't think of a better time to test in."

"How wicked" you heard the smile in his voice finally picking a direction a direction "You've never needed anything to get my attention Mesh'la," he added, "Do I get to see it before the feast?"

"What would be the fun in that?" You laughed.

"It must be some dress then."

"You have no idea my dear Daimyo."

Boba guided you back to his two main guards, listening your muffled giggle at the one you used as a foot rest. The sound of it reminded him of another time another Boba. "Go with them, they'll carry your luggage back for you and provide a room for you. I'll get the word out about today," Boba said with a small bow dismissing himself not waiting for a response. His mind was exceptionally sharp but it was clouded when you were around and he desperately needed some fresh air. When he reached the throne room dias he disappeared behind a small door to a balcony that oversaw the city below still semi shrouded from view.

"Lover?" he heard Fennec ask behind him.

"A life time ago, yes."

"Don't let her distract-"

"I always trust your wisdom, my dear friend but I don't think she's here to distract me. It seems she's here to see if the spark is still there or if it's time to move on."

"Is it?" she asked.

"I hope so. Invite everyone for a feast tonight. Get the best cooks and musicians, please."

"Please? I like her already," Fennec chuckled starting to make a mental list and those to contact some help for such a last moment event, "Why haven't you taken your Helmet off? I haven't seen you wear it so long."

"I've gotten old and forgotten what it means to wear it. Not sure if I'm ready for her to see that."

"So you do have doubts?" Fennec smiled.

"I haven't lived this long without being prepared."

Fennec nodded, Smart Man, she must be one hell of a Bounty Hunter to put him on edge like this. Fennec excuses to herself to start making preparations for the eventing contacting the Mods to help her spread the word.

You watched the guards pick up the two very heavy trunks and fling them over their shoulders with ease. Smiling you closed the ship after wondering around it once more and followed after them. You took in the sights on the way back, the sand, the people, the peace. You remembered what this place was like, the fear and iron fist but now it seemed people were actually happy and living life. While the sand was not something you cared for you, it could be home or at least a place to dwell between bounties. Your mind trailed back to Boba, the roughness of his voice and how different it was from when you last heard it, it made you wonder what had happened to him in the time apart.

The guards took you to a room past the Daimyo's at the end of the hall, the room was luxurious dripping in finery. They put the trunks at the end of the bed and left you to explore in silence. Their was a beautiful vanity lined with fragrances from through out the galaxy. Then you saw it the small fragrance box in the back unopened, no dust clung to and it was obviously new. You sliced the cover with your nail and opened it, revealing a translucent blue bottle labeled The Queen, you smiled at the limited edition perfume knowing you were really on his mind. You opened the balcony to look at the city below, your hands trialed the railing the cold metal reminding you of him.

You tapped the back of your knuckles on the railing frustrated. Should I have even came? There's plenty of other bounties hunters would would be worth the time of day, several of which are Mandalorians or equally rough around the edges. Boba's obviously retired, could I? Your mind trialed to the stacks of your stashed credits, the adrenaline running through your veins and the electricity dancing throughout your nervous system on a bounty, the reeling feeling of being alive and then back to him. You groaned pulling yourself away from the railing, sensing the approaching person coming to your door. You opened it before they had time to knock, finding Fennec standing in the door way.

"Ms. Shand, how can I be of assistance? Someone you need to talk?" you smiled.

"No, I came to escort you to the Daimyo bathing room if you wish to use something a little more luxurious then your own."

"Let me grab something to slip into for the time being," you said turning and rummaging through the trunk to find the floor length black slip at the bottom, "How many hours until the feast?" you asked curiously.

"Three."

Short and simple, "How is he...? Really I mean," letting your voice dropped to a hush tone.

"He's a better man."

"Thank you for watching over him," your voice dropped even lower.

"That's what family does," she said pushing open the large door revealing a steamy chamber with several bathing soaps and assorted towels, "Enjoy, I'll leave you to it. You can go back to your room when ever your done."

You walked inside pulling the door shut behind you, admiring the long tub with steam rolling off of it. You dressed down and submerged yourself in, the heat engulfing you in a warm embrace. You dunked your head back and let the warmth touch your scalp.

"Little one," you heard the smirk in the tone echo in the chamber.

You looked around not seeing anyone but you felt his presence nearby, "Can I help you?" you asked innocently running your fingers through your hair.

"Can I come in?"

"I'm not going to stop you," you said sinking yourself further down into the tub.

Your eyes caught sight of a small door opening, assumingely connected to Boba's room. He was still armored but he strode in and took a seat next to the bath.

He watched you sink even lower into the bath, "I don't remember modesty being one of your strong suits."

"I don't remember being an observing prude being one of yours either," you snickered back lathering your hair, "nor one for wearing so much black," your eyes danced around his body back up to his helmet, "or secrecy."

Boba sat slightly watching you lather and wash your hair, "Stand," he said once you were done.

"What if I don't want too," you teased, standing just enough to were the water still covered your nipples distorting them. His silence maddening not taking the bait, you moved the the side of the tub he was sitting on, pressing your against the wall and standing so nothing was visible. You noticed the small adjustment he made while sitting knowing it was getting to him. You let your arms go up to your head and squeezed some of the water out of your head letting the top of you be exposed to him, "Satisfied?" you asked lowering your arms covering yourself again.

"Come here, My Queen," his voice was husky with lust, motioning you forward with a finger.

You painfully took the stairs out of the tub one by one so he could trace your body with his eyes. You could feel his gaze shifting the impression leaving warm spots up your body. You stood in front of him crossing your arms under your breast to prop them up, "You are interrupting my bath," you said simply.

"I could give you a reason to get back in," he said suggestively placing a gloved hand on your waist noticing the small goosebumps appear.

"I don't think that is the point of the punishment," you said turning letting your back and ass be in view.

"I didn't say I would get pleasure from it," he smiled.

"If it would hold you over until after the feast," you relented smiling down at him, "One wouldn't hurt."

"Of course, My Queen," he said pulling you down on your knees before him.

You could already feel your slick starting to coat you and he wasn't even touching you yet. He leaned down putting his helmet in your face letting two fingers trial up your side to your breast and pulled gently on the physical reaction it caused. You let out a small pleasurable hiss at the feel of the semi rough leather, he quickly stuck one finger in your moan to silence you as he brought his free hand back to your breast. You let your tongue stroke the leather teasingly, you opened your mouth wide letting his finger escape visibly coated with drool. You heard a small groan escape him and his legs shift again. You smiled wiping the little bit of left over drool off from your lip.

You watched him lean forward more dropping his hand between your legs circling your clit. Your slick coating the rough leather. You heard his breathing hitch and a small growl escape him. He cautiously  twirled one gloved finger around your entrance gently pushing it in.

"Fuck," you moaned as the leather breached you.

"You are so tight," he groaned shoving it further into you, "So tight."

"Boba," the filthy moan escaped your lips, he shoved his finger further up without restraint to the spongy button stroking faster.

His finger stretched you as it curled into you, "My Queen," his voice was huskier, lust was taking over and he was doing his best to restrain his need. 

You started grinding into his finger clenching around it with every movement. You gasped as he  inserted another finger stretching you out further, "Bobaa," you said fucking yourself harder with them bringing your hand to your hair  and the other hand to his arm.

"Careful My Queen, I only have so much self restraint," he said being rougher, his other hand holding his cock to keep it from stroking itself in his flight suit. He desperately wanted to take it out and stroke himself.

You stood, his fingers popping out without warning causing you to shutter but you shoved him back in the chair and undid the pants of his flight suit, "Boba, now," you pleaded watching his mass spring up, the tip coated in precum more pulsating out at the command.

"What about my punishment?" He said shakily watching some of your slick fall on your thigh. 

"You don't want me?" You teased exposing your thigh to him but forcibly shoving his cock back in his suit and zipping it up, "I'm going to bathe, your excused," you said turning back to the bath and taking a step off the ledge into the water, wiping your thigh off.

You heard his breathing quicken, "Yes, Milady," he panted standing up.

"Next time just give me your cock, or I might be tempted to get my fill else where," you threatened not looking at him.

"I'll kill him. Slowly," you heard the anger break in Boba's voices, you smiled knowing he was going to think of you ever moment until tonight. 

The moment Boba reached his room he walked into the refresher gripped the counter trying not to relieve himself. He was so turned on and ravenous didn't notice your footsteps sneaking up on him until you did his flight suit again. You pulled him around and put the engorged member between your thighs holding it in place.

"It was almost just as fun watching you punish yourself," you purred, letting your hands move to the green chest plate, "but I really really want you right now. I won't asked again."

Boba picked you up like you were weightless and plunged his cock into you, "Fuck, Boba ," you screamed, as he started plowing it into you. He was forcibly stretching you out around him, his fingers dug into your hips the tightness nearly making him cum right there.

He was relentless and didn't stop as he put you on the bed, "My Queen," he moaned. The heat of being in his armor was bugging him, he quickly undid it tossing it to the ground. Your fingers went to his helmet, "It stays on," he growled being rougher cause your hands to move away.

Your fingers moved to his body, the muscles were quite was defined but you could feel he was definitely stronger. His cock was threatening to split you in two with every thrust. The heat of you engulfing every carnal urge within him turning them up. Boba felt you start shaking under him, "I've missed you" he groaned being rougher grabbing your legs and splitting them further his fingers digging into your ankles feeling you tighten around him, "You're so beautiful," he added staring down your beautiful face.

You felt his cock starting to twitch, you wrapped your legs around his ass pulling him closer and putting your hands around his neck, "Fill me, Boba. Please," you let your thumb trial up under his helmet to his jaw rubbing it matching his strokes. His arms shot down to catch himself, both of them placed on either side of your neck. Your felt him start shaking inside you, you let out cries of his name. Boba's never fucked you this hard, every thrust spearing you like it was the last. Your toes curls and your fingers dug into him harder piercing skin. You make the mistake of looking down watching his cock slide in and out of you, "Maker," the visual sent you over the edge. The pleasure coursing through you making every limb twitch but heavy. Your cunt quickly violently tightening around him when you felt him finally spill his warm release into you, his name falling from his lips like a prayer. You clenched again feeling some of its vast amount spill out.

He groaned the movement causing his sensitive cock to release what little was left in him, "Mesh'la," moving one of his hands gently to your embracing face. He kept himself situated between your legs and his cock slowly softening, massaging your twitching muscles, "Did I hurt you?" he asked tenderly.

"Boba Fett, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy worried about hurting someone?" You cooed, your heart still shaking and your high finally coming down.

"Only you milady," he said slowly trying to pull himself in but felt your heels dig into his ass and pull him back in.

"Done already?" you teased.

"I'm not as young as I use to be," Boba said leaning his helmet on your forehead.

"Just leave in me for as long as possible," you said pulling your hands from his face and resting them on his neck, "Why won't you let me take it off?" You whined.

He tipped it up and kissed you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and lathering your neck in soft kisses before putting the helmet back on, "Believe it or not but self consciousness. After the feast, you can take it off."

You wiggled your hips a little bit cause him to growl, "Fine, but come down here I'm cold."

Boba tucked his arms at your sides laying his head on your shoulder and his body on your chest covering you with his own heat. He could feel himself hardening again, he stiffened a small groan knowing you felt it too.

"Leave it," you said stroking his back feeling the muscle.

"Trying to have my heir?" he chuckled.

"In your dreams Fett," you laughed back.

"I'm in my dreams" he leered slightly thrusting in.

"I would have to be way fuller to even consider it, old man," you teased.

Boba's cock twitched eagerly, "That an offer? Maybe I'm not as old as I thought"

"Maybe after the feast and you've endured my torment," you teased, "besides it would be my heir," you tsked at him.

"An heir for each of us?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hmm, I'll have to think about it," you said trailing on finger up his spine feeling him tense again, "Perhaps-"

Fennec knocked on the door knowing better then to open giving the noises coming from it a little bit ago, "One hour." She quickly turned away grinning hoping his mood would be improved.

"Rain check," Boba said finally allowed to pull out staring at his seed oozing out of you, "Me'copaani ba'jurir ti ni?" his mandalorian was rusty but it still rolled off his tongue.

"I said after the feast," you said with a giggle watching him twitch, "Maybe you could make up my mind," you teased spending your legs further for him, tempting him.

Boba shook his head scolding himself, "After the feast," but the roughness in his voice told you it worked. He handed you a towel. He watched you hold yourself above it watching it dripped out. He groaned but grabbed his discarded clothing and walked into the bath room his self control slipping.

You followed after him with your clothing laughing and you still managed to beat him into the water, "You're going to close your control when you see the dress, might as well lose it now," you winked it him beckoning him into the water.

"I am a disciplined warrior, I have perfect control."

"And how many times did you take me while flying because you couldn't wait?"

"Get clean," he said lathering you in wash and than himself.

You rolled your eyes and finished leaving him in the bath by himself, "Send for me when your ready for your torment."

Boba watched you leave before taking off his helmet to washing his face and neck. You wrapped your hair up to finish drying while you opened the trunk to pull out the dress, your hands felt the silky fabric perfectly matching the red shade on this helmet fading to the green of his helmet and chest plate, cut to perfectly put everything on display and two side slits going all the way down to put your body on display. You smile pulling the open backed gown on and releasing your hair. Let's see how long he can keep his hands off me or see me with another man. You went to the vanity and looked at the new one smiling, you gave yourself several sprays of it. You were almost finished getting ready when a soft tap came at the door, "Enter."

Fennec walked in with the corner of her lip pulling into a smile, "A statement?" she offered.

"A question," you smiled, "hopefully one he'll finally answer."

"We're ready," she said.

You slipped your shoes on and quickly followed after her and the music. When you both entered the dining room it fell silent except for the music, all eyes on both of you. Fennec escorted you up where Boba and two empty places were. Both when both of you took your places the chatter started back up again. You side eyed Boba who didn't even turn and look. Maybe I should have done green to red then. Then you noticed Fennec eyeing him. So I did get under his skin.

You watched the Daimyo stand up and have it fall silent again, "I welcome you all to eat, dance and live. This feast is in our a dear friend, The Queen, who came to visit. Let's show her how Mos Espa now flourishes, free of war, spice and tyranny," he said raising a glass, sipping it and back down. He saw the few men eyeing you and was doing his best to quell his anger. Boba saw one eyeing you and you giving him the quick flash of a wave. So my punishment has started... Is that my perfume? He tighten his jaw, the dress was the perfect allusion to him yet perfectly opposite of his scheme. To him it signified you as his and as he equals, along with the perfume being another jab at the thought of seeing you with anyone else.

You saw Boba's free hand ball into a fist and his gloves tight against his knuckles, knowing your legs were covered by the table cloth you run you your foot up his leg with a smile between delicious bites. Everything about the feast was delicate yet stood out by its own, no two dishes tasted alike and every drink offered was vastly different. The desserts was one of kind. Maybe I would stay here just for this. You eyed the man heading to the dancing area, alone. You wiped your lips and excused yourself falling after him.

"Not eating?" Fennec said looking at the dessert, "I would have assumed you worked up at appetite earlier," she added scooping up a piece.

"Just waiting for her to be gone," he admitted tipping his helmet up and eating finally.

"She's really having an effect on you," Fennec said watching.

"We all have that one personal bounty that got away. She is a huntress personified."

"Why did you wait so long?"

"I assumed she moved on and I am a relic of the past."

"Boba for being the smartest people I've ever met... you sure are always the stupidest when it comes to the heart," Fennec said putting down the spoon full of dessert spotting her dancing with some guy, "A woman like that doesn't move on. Why are you dealing with this punishment," she said with a small chuckle.

"Ever defy a Queen before?" He growled, "I'd disintegrate him just for touching her, but I'm assuming this is her way of testing me and her way of asking me what I've been doing with others since."

"Have you?" Fennec asked raising an eyebrow.

"No," that was the question that unscrewed the final bolt. Boba tipped his helmet back down and wondered down the floor towards you.

The man spun you around, it was a silence dance.  It seemed almost like he was on autopilot. Then you noticed the man eyeing him in the corner, it was the look of a lover pinning. OH, you giggled and grabbed his hand dragging him towards the balcony.

"Did I make your boyfriend made?" You asked jumping up swinging your legs over the rails and sitting down.

"You know?" He asked confused.

"I am The Queen, there's little that escapes my eye. How are you enjoying the changes to Mos Espa?"

Boba found both of you outside, he leaned against the shadows in the door way listening. His temper calming after the admitted statement noticing the lover too also watching and listening. Boba smiled.

"The new Daimyo is a kind and stern man, he yields his influence only in the most respectful ways," the man said leaning against against the railing.

"Has the Daimyo ever shown interest in... any woman?" you asked cautiously.

"No, he spends all of his time making the town better or helping friends."

"Would you consider him a good man then?"

"Unlike anything this town has ever seen before. War broke out here, even when it looked like certain defeat he did not back down trying to protect this town. No other would have done that."

"Maybe I don't need to punish him as much as I thought," you said looking at your nails before taking in the city again, "Loyalty is the way, without a clan you are empty," you muttered, "You may go, have fun," you said looking at the city.

Boba stepped out the shadows and put his arms around your waist, “What was suppose to be the punishment?”

“The punishment would have came if you didn’t come after me,” you purred rubbing his arm, “you never disappoint.”

Boba lifted your legs and spun you around on the railing, putting himself between your legs, “Don’t get any ideas little one, we have company,” watching your hands wander to his abs, “as much as I want you and for you to be off limits.”

“So I’m not yours nor off limits? Good to know,” you said disappointed, “I guess I will be on my way then,” you said your heart starting to aching, you tried standing but he pushed you back down on the railing

Boba growled pulled away, walking over to the blinds and pulling them down and shutting the door. He ferociously pulled up your dress and rutted himself against you his cock desperately wanted to be released from his flight suit and cod piece, removed the piece and unzipped his flight suit moving your soaked underwear to the side and piercing your warm harshly making you moan his name.

“Mine,” he growled, thrusting, “My Queen,” he added thrusting again.

“Boba… Do you want me… ahh to stay,” you panted trying to be quiet.

He thrust again stopping for a moment, “You don’t have to give up Bounty Hunting for now,” he said gently running his hand over your stomach, “I’d prefer if you stayed here with me.”

“Boba, do you lo-“

“Yes.”

You smiled taking off one of his gloves, “You should have told me.”

“I know,” he admitted sourly.

“Now, get back to work,” you winked putting the glove in your mouth, both of you knowing damn well the music was to loud.

“Yes, My Queen,” he said holding your face rutting into you.

Your head went back, his cock clinging to your walls splitting you with every stroke. “Maker,” you moaned muffled by the glove and you could feel him twitch.

“Do you want me to cum into you,” he said wiping your cheek with his thumb, slowing down for a moment, “or I could use that pretty mouth,” you heard the smile on his voice.

You wrapped your leg around him shoving him further into you feeling more of your slick coat him, “Little one likes her filling,” he groaned picking the speed back up. The base of his cock was violently rubbing your clit engorging it with desire, “Don’t worry I’ll take care of my mess,” he said looking down at the union. He buried his other hand into the flesh of your ass using it to stabilize himself as he spilled into you. He clenched his jaw holding back the noise his throat was trying to maybe, he continued to pump himself until he felt like everything was out. He pulled himself out tucking himself back in. He let two fingers glide in and felt you arch forward, he pulled the glove off leaving it inside. Bringing his rough calloused hand to your throbbing clit, stroking it gently. Your thighs closed around his hand, he ripped them open using one leg to hold on side open and brought his other hand to your legs shoving it open, “I’m not done yet.” He worked your lips between his fingers putting his thumb on the sensitive tip.

You wildly started moaning as he worked you with his fingers and you could barely breath, your legs kept trying to clench shut and your cunt was clenched tight enough that it was trying to push out the glove. He shoved it back in “push out my load and you’ll be the one getting punished.” You moaned again at the comment. He said stroking faster setting your body on fire, every inch bouncing electricity limp to limp numbing every other sensation, “That’s it, cum for me.” Your face started burning at the command and roughness in his tone. He removed his hand from your leg and brought it to the back of your neck. You could’t stand it anymore you flipped up a finger causing his helmet to come off. You stared into half lidded dilated eyes, you pulled the glove out of your mouth grabbing him and kissing him letting his mouth muffle your orgasm.

“I almost forgot how handsome you were under there,” you breathed putting your arms around his neck, pulling him back to your mouth. You pulled back tracing the small scar across his face, “Am in trouble aren’t I,” you smiled.

He smiled pushing the glove in more pulling away and closing your legs picking you up, kneeling to pick up his helmet and opening the door guiding you back inside, “I’m going to enjoy filling you until it spills,” he smirked, “won’t mind a princess or two if they as strong as you.”

“Or as loyal as you.”

The rest of the towards Boba’s room was silent he gently set you on the bed pulling up your dress and pulling out the glove with a delish little liquid popping noise and tossing it to the ground. He stripped himself of everything but stopped at his vambrace pulling out the grappling line before discarding it to the ground, “I didn’t teach you everything,” he smiled grabbing your hands putting the line around them, “Now I’m going to spend the rest of night reminding you who’s really in charge here.”

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett #boba fett smut #star wars smut #Star Wars #book of boba fett smut #book of boba fett #the book of boba fett #mandalorian smut #boba fett!sh #starwars smut #starwars mandalorian #star wars mandalorian #bounty Hunter #reader smut #fanfic smut #Bounty Hunter Smut #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fanfic #book of boba fett fanfic

[thirsty-boba-fett-posts]

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

LET’S GOOOOOOOO!

Smut under the cut.

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

“Tell me about breaking banthas to ride.”

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

“Ah, brat!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#boba fett thots #the book of boba fett #boba fett #boba fett x reader #daddy daimyo #boba fett can get it #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut #star wars #star wars imagine

[daimyosprincess]

THIS TENDER LOVE

—PAIRING: Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: When you’re a little nervous about your first time, Boba helps you get in the right headspace.

—WORD COUNT: 2.2k

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

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, daimyo!Boba, virgin reader, implied age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, reader discovers a bit of her inner brat, some heartfelt feelings for good measure, lots of pet names per usual, Daddy kink strikes again (but only at the end)

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't usually write first times but bestie @baufraus inspired me to write about a certain princess getting shy and Boba's response. Daimyo Boba is so patient and daddy I can't imagine a better person to show you the ropes 😌

Divider by @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

You’d wanted this. You’d wanted this for so fucking long. Dreamed and wished for it.

So why can’t you just open the door and go out there?

Blinking against the clean light of the ‘fresher, you frown in the mirror. It’s not like you’re some blushing virgin who just discovered the place between her legs; you’d read and even watched plenty of things that had given you a chance to start learning what made you shake and moan. And although you’ve never done most of those things you fantasized about—much less had your first real kiss—you aren’t clueless about sex. You’re just a virgin, and Boba is just a man.

A man who dotes on you, protects you, and makes you laugh. The man you’ve fallen in love with. He’s been your whole life for the past seven months, ever since your uncle included you in his tribute to the new daimyo. 

Your reflection sours at the memory of your despot relation. After you’d come of age, he got rid of you the second the chance presented itself, content to leave you at the mercy of the galaxy’s most feared bounty hunter. But Boba had been nothing like the stories the servants had whispered when they heard the news, nor had he been anything like your tyrant uncle.

No, he had been kind to you. Rough around the edges, but kind. You’d even begged him not to send you back to your planet when he informed your pilot that he didn’t keep slaves or girls in his palace. Even back then, sacred and naive, you’d felt you were in the presence of a true ruler, a man who gave his word and kept it. He swore he would never hurt you, never pressure you, or let any harm befall you and you believed him. 

You still do.

So why are your feet frozen in place and the thought of going to him suddenly impossible? You’re a modest person by nature but this shock of shyness is more than you’re accustomed to, especially since you’d taken to sitting in Boba’s lap on the throne and wading in the garden pools in light dresses while he smiled at your joy. 

“Princess?”

Would you be enough? Would he find your inexperience a burden? 

He said he wouldn’t, that he was honored to be the one you trusted with your tender love. But that was before you couldn’t imagine showing your face or looking him in the eye. 

“Sweetheart? Everything okay?” his deep voice calls from behind the ‘fresher door. A hint of worry tinges his tone. “It’s not too late to change your mind, little one. I won’t be upset. This is all about you and your comfort.”

You don’t want to change your mind. You want to experience every sweet, sinful thing he has to offer. You want to learn and taste your combined pleasures. 

So why can’t you move?

Tears threaten to well in your eyes. “Boba?” your voice cracks. Tears do form now, hovering in your lashes in hot frustration.

His voice is just on the other side of the door now, thick with concern. “You want me to come in?”

“Yes,” you sniffle, dropping your face into your hands in stinging embarrassment when you hear the door slide open. Just this morning you’d been giggling and teasing, whispering in his ear on the throne how you couldn’t wait to become his—now you’re a tearful mess. Even if he doesn’t say as much, it’s surely pathetic to him. Why would a king waste his time with a sheltered princess when there are beautiful men and women whose hands and mouths already know the paths to pleasure?

His unarmored chest presses against your back and you instantly ease back into the circle of his arms, your safe and sacred space. Boba gently turns you inwards so your head can bury into his neck. You curl your fingers into the soft weave of his undershirt.

When you try to speak he shushes you with a small sound and a kiss to the top of your head. He rubs the small of your back until the tension drops from your shoulders and you slump your weight onto his.

“That’s it,” he murmurs into your hair. “Relax, babygirl.” A few heartbeats pass before his hand tilts your chin up from his shoulder. “How about we just curl up tonight? Watch one of your holos?”

A thread of urgent fire lights down your spine. “No!” Boba’s brows shoot up and you wince at your echo bouncing off the walls. “I mean, no. I want to… tonight, with you. I just…” Heat blooms in your cheeks, your previous shyness taking over once more. 

You try to return your face to your hands but Boba catches your wrists in a loose hold at your sides. His warm eyes flicker with first a thought, then a decision.

Bona leans slowly into your space, drawing out the small movement to allow you to pull away. When you remain in place, sweet and curious, he presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. The feel of him surrounding you, his warm smell, the feel of his strength just below his skin acts like a drug, overwhelming your senses and unfurling your desire like the first soft blooms of spring. He tends to you, encouraging your blossoming by leading your arms over his shoulders and dragging his tongue along the smooth seam of your lips.

His breathing deepens as you slide your palms over his wide shoulders, up his neck to pull him further into you. The heavy sound drips down your body in a sweet trail to your dampening core, the pant of his breath tickling your eyelashes and hairline. You had imagined what a kiss, a real kiss, would be like a thousand times. How your lover’s mouth might feel moving on yours, how your hands might roam and grab, the crushed feel of fabric and limbs seeking skin. 

Yet kissing Boba is nothing like that.

Just as dreams are mere imitations of true sensation, kissing Boba Fett is nothing like you imagined—it’s so much more. Swirls of color that materialize into touch, sounds that brush against hot skin, and the humbling reminder that you are all too human and so is he. It’s mortal and frightening and perfect. You want to open up your chest and let him in, let him taste every part of you so you can exist within someone else. 

Isn’t that what people crave? What they die for?

“Princess…”

The scraped restraint in the daimyo’s voice flickers in your belly. You wanted this, dreamed and wished for it. If you pull away now, you’ll lose it to the stifling swell of bashfulness dammed behind your kiss. You chase his retreating lips until he stalls you with a large hand on your jaw. “Easy, little one,” he soothes with a brush of his thumb over your cheek. “There’s no need to rush.”

“But I-”

“Want it?” He flashes you a white-toothed grin that has butterflies flittering through your insides. You can’t hide your face like this, so you scrunch up your toes and dig your nails into his shirt. He chuckles and kisses the tip of your nose. “Don’t even think about hiding those pretty eyes,” he gives a quick squeeze to your jaw, “keep them on me.”

Oh, the irony of having a staring problem and suddenly being unable to look at the handsome man in your arms. 

Dragging your eyes up his face, you take in every dip and crease of his bronze features, remembering how the bow of his lips and how the texture of his scars felt against your soft skin. The same skin that now feels too hot and tight. When you eventually light on his eyes, they crinkle up in another bright smile. It almost makes you squint. “They were on you,” you mumble into his silence.

“What was that?” The firm way Boba’s other hand snakes around your waist has you swallowing back the sass you were about to give him.

Where is that coming from?

“I-I said they were on you.”

Something dark shifts in his gaze. Something that makes you clench on your emptiness. He considers you for a couple more seconds, his head cocking to one side like the many times you’d seen him on the throne with his subjects. Deciding. 

When you start to squirm under his gaze, his lips quirk into a pleased expression. “You never cease to surprise me, little one.” Seeing your confused look, he continues. “You’ve got some brat in you... I like it. You stopped being so self-conscious when you ran that smart mouth.”

You suppose you had. Although you aren’t usually one to push back or act out—it was quickly punished in your uncle’s house—it did feel good to let the scrap of sass slip. Made you feel a tiny bit more powerful, more evenly matched with Boba’s strength and confidence. You test your next words on your tongue before you fire them. 

“Then show me how much you like it?” you try.

Boba’s smile turns sharp, more hungry. “One kriffing kiss and she’s already getting greedy.” 

You gasp when you feel the grind of his hardening bulge on your hip. He shifts you against him so he’s pressed against your center, rocking his hips to give you some friction. This time your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, the warm stretch of soaked fabric between your thighs catching on your clit with delicious effect.

“Not so shy now, are you, babygirl?” Boba hums low in your ear, gently sinking his teeth into your pulse point. “Just needed a little help from, Daddy, huh?” 

A white-hot streak of embarrassment scores through your chest, charring your fledgling sense of bravery. Your pulse throbs in your pussy. Now you have a very different reason to be shy: you’d never told him those secret desires you came to in your bed but he knew them all the same. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he moans into your love-bitten flesh when you involuntarily buck against him. “Knew you liked me but are you really that desperate for an old man?”

“D-don’t be mean-”

You cry out when his hand presses between your bodies to cup your sex.

“Mmm I think you like it when I’m mean.” He grinds his palm against your clit and your knees buckle at the dizzying sparks of pleasure. “I also think your little cunt is dripping wet because you want to call me Daddy.”

The choked sound you make doesn’t hide the way your body reacts to his words. You shove your face into his shirt. “I never said that,” you grumble into the fabric. But you dreamed about it, worked yourself up and touched yourself to the thought of it.

“No?”

Boba retracts his hand and you almost cry from the loss. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking and smug at your desperation, his teasing dominance playing on every one of your desires. Everything that burns you up only seems to fuel him more.

“No, please-”

“Aw, baby, you want it bad, don’t you?” His hand comes back up to your face and you can smell your arousal on his fingers. He tips back your chin, his thumb pressing against your trembling lips. His eyes sweep over you, taking in the way you’re as downy and vulnerable as fawn before a wolf, and they soften. 

Boba strokes your bottom lip gently, a small smile turning up his mouth. The crackle of electricity in the air dulls to a pleasant thrum. “You really are beautiful,” he breathes, his voice awed. Sensing your growing need, he presses his thumb into your mouth, his cock twitching against your stomach when you suck it happily. 

“It really isn’t too late if you want to wait,” he reminds you. He chuckles when you shake your head rapidly back and forth, this calloused thumb sliding across your tongue. Smiling, he removes his hand and rests his lips on your forehead. “It’s an honor, you know. To be the one you trust with this.”

As if it could have ever been someone else. Even before you came to Tatooine, it was never going to be anyone but Boba. You’d never had the desire to share your intimacy with another person until him.

“It was always you,” you whisper. It’s not a secret, but it is something precious. 

Boba buries his face into your hair, pressing you so tight to him you could melt into one. “I… I love you.”

Those three words hold a tender softness you know does not come easy to his surface. It fills you with a sweet kind of strength. 

Loosening your hold on his neck, you draw back far enough to take in his beautiful face. “I love you, Boba. I want this. Want you.” He radiates pure joy at your confirmation, as bright and golden as the twin suns above. Leaning in, you hover your lips just over his ear. “Now, Daddy please-”

You don’t even have time to squeal before he tosses you over his shoulder for the bedroom.

#zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #this tender love fic

[bobofett26]

Gangster's Girl

Boba Fett x fem!reader

Pre-Sarlacc Boba

18+ Smut (no actual sex in this one though just thoughts and fantasies)

warnings: cheating (thoughts), mention of physical abuse, mention of drugs, sex-work, past slavery

512 words

-You are a sex worker and whilst you belong to a low-level gangster you meet Bounty Hunter Boba Fett and can’t help but lust for him.-

You were [gangster’s] girl, you had him to thank for the life you were given. You had been nothing, born a slave, raising yourself as an orphan on the streets of Daiyu selling death sticks and your body to survive. [gangster] had found you a year ago took you in as one of his ‘girls’ and you had become his favourite, his paramour. He adorned you with gifts and credits, treated you like a princess and all you had to do was share his bed. He was good to you, mostly, sometimes you would feel the back of his hand but you couldn’t complain, he had saved you after all. 

The other girls were sold to clients for the night, it had started that way for you too but not anymore, you were [gangsters] and his alone, he was not willing to share you with anyone. You were fine with that, you never really liked sex for money any way it was something you had to do not wanted to do. 

But there was one bounty hunter who made you blush. A green and red Mandalorian, tall and well-built with a deep voice, he barely spoke and never took off his helmet but he had an aura that just screamed sexy, you didn’t need to know what he looked like under that armour for your heart to skip a beat. His name was Boba Fett. 

He took jobs from [gangster] sometimes, he’d come back always successful and get paid, he’d flirt with the other girls, take them to the room he was provided with. When [gangster] wasn’t looking he would glance over at you, stare at you through that cold helmet. You didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling but you hoped it was the same as you. You would never act on those feelings though because [gangster] would kill both of you if Boba laid his hands on your body. 

Fett couldn’t help but stare at you. Your body wrapped in gold like a present wanting to be ripped open. The short silk dress that hugged all your curves, the sparkling jewellery adorning your neck, wrists and ankles you were a sight to be seen and every time he had seen you his lust for you grew. Why would [gangster] put you there on that pedestal dressed like that and not let him touch you, taste you? It was plain torture.

He wanted nothing more than to ruin that little dress, wreck that pretty pussy of yours, have his cum run down your legs and paint those glittery anklets that marked you as [gangster’s] property. You were taking [gangster’s] cock every night, Boba wished it was his, even just once would be enough to satisfy his hunger.

He could feel himself swelling up underneath his codpiece, he would take one of the other girls tonight, pretend she was you. Maybe you would close your eyes and imagine him when [gangster] was on top of you later, Boba saw the way you looked at him, just like he looked at you.

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #star wars #fanfic #boba fett smut

[rexxdjarin]

Boba Fett x Reader

quick bj on the throne filth bc I can’t stop thinking about him (and I need to get back into writing!)

also I did not proof read sometimes you just need to get your thoughts out ok? Ok💚

rating: 18+ Minors DNI

“Oh princess….” He tipped his head back to rest on the back of the throne, his gloved fingers digging into the nape of your neck.

You took him deeper, allowing the warmth of your mouth to grace the velvety length of him with calculated ease. You watched him writhe from your place between his thighs, your knees digging into the cool sandstone floor. As you swirled your tongue around each vein, he huffed out a held breath of tension.

“Easy mesh’la…you keep-“ he gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head briefly. “Keep that up I’m not gonna last very long.”

You suckled the tip softly, flicking up the white beads of precum leaking from the hole. “Then work harder to focus.” You teased, dragging your tongue up the shaft and smirking devilishly.

“You telling me what to do little brat?” Boba laughed so softly and tenderly you knew he wasn’t nearly as bothered by your retort as his words portrayed.

You hummed in response, not waiting for his usual scolding before you swallowed him down again. His grip in your hair tightened, his leather gloves creaking and his groans growing deeper as he relished in the feeling of you around him.

His hands in your hair guided you to his liking, preventing you from taking him as fast as you wanted. You closed your eyes as he pushed you down onto him until he nudged the back of your throat. Tears formed along your lashes and they slowly dissipated as you swallowed around him.

“Oh fuck. You’re so good for me. Such a good girl.” You felt heat bloom in your core and flush your cheeks as he complimented you. You bobbed your head slower, allowing your lips wrapped around him to feel the gentle throb you were causing.

His index finger traced down your jaw, tapping your cheekbone and grumbling. “Eyes on me, princess. I want to see how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth.”

You could’ve melted into the floor right there, his words like the delicate silk of all the beautiful dresses he’d bought for you. The love he spoke only to you was such a sharp contrast to the gruff, intimidating, cocky man who now ruled Tatooine.

You whimpered, wrapping your hand around the base of him and twisting slowly. As you popped off him with a seductive coo, he chuckled, running his thumb under your eyes to wipe off your smeared makeup.

“You think I look pretty?” You giggled, kissing the tip gently to let him have a breather. You massaged the width of his thighs and dragged your nails up and down the plush of his belly.

He smirked, leaning forward to tilt your chin up to meet his. “Always, my little one. Always.” His thumb ran over your bottom lip, holding your face in his large palm and meeting your lips with his own. He let his other hand wander, gathering at your waist and guiding you up into his lap.

“Who’s eager now?” You remarked, leaning into his chest and spreading your legs around his waist. You rested your forehead on his and your hands on his broad shoulders.

A deep chortle of amusement vibrated through this chest. He gripped your waist and backside tightly, tucking you into him to press your skin to his at every juncture. “That’s right. Now let me put my cock where it belongs. I’m done waiting.” He said seductively in your ear, pulling you down on top of him and filling you completely.

“Boba.” You moaned, so raw and filthy as it echoed against the cavernous walls of the throne room.

“Not such a brat now, are you?” He teased, burying his face in your neck and dotting your delicate skin with the dark purple hickies he loved marking you with.

You could do nothing but whimper in response as he took you apart. He held you to him so protectively and fervently, such a contrast to how hard his hips were drilling up into you. Suddenly, you were the one who couldn’t last very long.

By the time he was finished with you, you were a boneless mess too fucked out and filled to make any more of a fuss. He wrapped you up in his arms and protected you like he always did. He was a ruthless man, but you knew the truth-he was much softer than he seemed.

#boba fett thots #boba fett x you #boba fett x reader #boba fett x reader smut #daimyo boba fett #boba fett smut #boba fett

[saradika]

— WASTELAND, BABY

vii. be known in it's aching, shown in the shaking

[masterlist] | [part vi]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 6.4k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, multiple pov, angst, feelings, masturbation (m), kissing, oral (f), fingering, semi-public / outdoor sex, birth control mention, begging, piv, outercourse

Your routine watch with Fennec takes an interesting turn when someone very unexpected appears to take her place.

His reason for first going to the Pika Oasis had been rooted in duty. Never expecting there to be anything more than that - no pleasure in the long days spent away from Mos Espa.

But that had been when he thought he had been going alone.

Before he had been unable to shake Fennec. The others soon following, so sure in their decision to stick by his side.

Before… you.

He still marvels at your transformation. From that pretty little bluebird to something far more fierce. All sharp talons, now. Spreading your wings, prepared to soar.

The girl he had found at the farmhouse never would have insisted she come with. That hunch in your shoulders as you had scurried after him, startling at the crack of a branch underneath your own foot.

He can no longer pretend he doesn’t look for you. The quickest flick of his eyes when he’s walking down the main road, even now.

Looking. Searching.

Finding.

There's confidence in the way your hands brace on your hips. A little tilt of your head as you listen to the settler, watching where he points towards the row of houses being slowly cleared out.

Hands reaching for the box he holds, where it wobbles from being stacked too high. Kindness in your unguarded expression. A rarity, in a world where personal gain often came before the needs of others.

A softness still lingered in you. A remnant of the before - something he had never truly wondered about, until now. Never worth his time thinking about a past that would not exist again.

It’s in your eyes, in your smile.

In your form - the hard work and warm weather baring inches of skin that his eyes couldn't help but to be drawn to. Desire was a tricky thing, but even with his attempts to distance himself, his mind was brought back to you, again and again.

Leaving his mind to wander, in the dark. When the hard day was finally over. When what starts as a replay of a moment turns into more - a hand dropping to curl around where he’s already half-hard.

The jerk of his fist twining with his thoughts. Imaging your sweet mouth pressing against his, how your lips would feel wrapping around his cock. Soft and warm and wet - how good you’d be, for him.

Your name catching in his throat, snarled out through clenched teeth as he spilled across his knuckles.

Sometime over the past month it had changed. From a physical appreciation of the memory - the way that blue suit had clung to your form - to something deeper, something that lasted into the next morning.

No longer thinking of just the during, but now - the after.

His mind torn between that moment of reaching out and taking - like he had wanted to, just the night before. Hoping to find you on that evening shift, to go to you, himself.

Now, in the light of day - seeing you now, he wonders if he was right to wish it.

If his touch - so stained as it was - would dent your softness, mold and mar it into something unrecognizable. If it was fair to return your gaze, the desire that so often flickered in your own eyes.

The morning washes away the smoldering fire from the night before. Brining a fresh clarity, unwanted but inevitable.

No, he thinks. Perhaps not.

He has tarnished enough things during his time walking this world. The one bright spot in Mos Espa would not be one of them.

He'll let you down, gently. He can do that much.

Then, he'll make himself forget.

The sky bleeds from blue, to gold, to a deep, hazy orange.

Your plate dipping where it rests on your knee, scraped clean from your dinner-from-a-can and roasted tatos.

Lost in thought, stuck in the night before. Replaying the conversation - a loop of wondering why Boba had been asking about your shift.

If it had just been checking in again, or if it had been something more?

You think… maybe it had. The prospect thrills you, and sends your stomach twisting in knots. Feeling the heavy weight of his gaze today, your own darting back his way when his attention pulls from you.

A slow circling, steps in the sand - just waiting for the loop to complete, to finally converge.

"About time to head out.” Fennec tells you, her boot reaching out to tap yours. The corner of her mouth lifting, when you don’t immediately reply, “Where'd you go, bluebird?"

"Oh. I'm here." You blink, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks.

Brushing off her questions, the raised tilt of her brow, as you wash off your utensils, turning them back into the rusting wire basket at the cantina.

The easy silence lingering, as you walk beside her. Down the long dirt road, past all the houses. The flickering lights above and lanterns slowly dimming the further you go, until you reach the ridge that overlooks the river.

The remnants on an old one-room cabin was found nestled in the trees - bolstered with wooden boards. Furnished into something almost cozy with a discovery of an old picnic table, a rickety chair, and some crates that passed as storage.

An open window on each side that gave a good view of where the river spilled into the lake, a fine place as any to watch for Raiders.

Some of your gear is dumped inside - a small lantern lit that hopefully acts as a deterrent. An almost familiar path taken together, as you start down the wooden trail.

The nights were close to routine, now - a slow loop around the lake, and then back. A few hours of watch, and then the same.

It's about half-way down the river, near a bend that loops perfectly around a massive fallen tree, where there's another nudge. Your thoughts drift again, this time back to your childhood.

Younger you would have loved a walk like this. Toeing off shoes and socks - rolling up the hem of your pants to wade in water and wiggle your toes in the mud.

With the radiation that lingers, you don't know if you'll ever get the chance to do that again. There were areas that were safe, and perhaps this river was too, but you'd lost that carefree edge the moment you woke up.

There's an urge to look into the rippling water - see if it's still you looking back. A step forward as your eyes drop - the stars and line of trees reflected in the surface.

Again, still you. Still her, deep down, when your eyes narrow and your vision blurs.

"Don't think you'll find anything in there." A hand touches your elbow, as she brings you back again.

Your reflection distorts with the twist of your head, as you step away.

Offering a small smile, an embarrassed huff of a quiet laugh, "Sorry. I've just been a bit... distracted lately."

It's an understatement.

A sideways look shot your way, as you move on, "Don't tell me you're wishing someone else was on patrol with you."

It's a misinterpretation - and you haven't been wishing that, not really - but she still strikes at something close to your heart.

"No!" You sputter, with a little wave of your hand, "I like patrols with you. I just-"

She is quick, smart. Second in command for a reason, tongue rubbing against her teeth as she fights a smile. Easily plucking at the way your words peter out, unable to help poking at them.

"...but?"

"But, nothing." Your cheeks feel hot, as you move ahead on the trail.

Embarrassment licks at you. The thought of talking about your crush with Fennec feels silly - too juvenile on a multitude of levels.

It was fine enough in your thoughts - a soft, cozy thing. But to speak it out loud would make your desire real. If she were to laugh at your presumption, you'd be crushed.

"You don't have to tell me." She sighs, when she catches up to you a moment later, "It will be more fun to guess, anyways. Just… be careful. Okay?"

That has you pausing, a little glance over your shoulder. A frown, as you try to figure out the source of her worry.

"I’ve talked with vault dwellers before." Fennec gives you a look, as if you should know, "Things sounded a lot different back then. Life moves a lot more quickly now, with a lot less attachments."

You think you know what she means. From what you've heard, life had turned more fluid, when the world had turned all but lawless. A bad day could get you separated from your family for months, or far worse.

Love had persevered through it all, but the slow dance of romance were rooted with traditions that have long been forgotten.

"You're jumping awfully far ahead," You shoot her a look, "You're telling me there's no white dresses or ringing church bells at the end of the line?"

Her brow furrows, as she thinks about your words. Your humor had been another thing that has disappeared, when the world had changed. All those little references that came without thought, now an ancient language.

But you think she tries to understand, for you. A shake of her head, with a small smile, "Not out here. Not anymore."

"That's too bad. You'd make a pretty bridesmaid, Fen." You deflect with a grin, and then the tension breaks.

And this time she's the one to roll her eyes - to walk on ahead.

Her laugh joining yours, as you follow.

By the time you make it back to the shed, the earlier conversation has trickled down into the back of your mind. An ease in the way you settle into your usual seats - Fennec leaning against the picnic table.

You, propped up against a large crate, nearby. A leg pulled up as you rest an arm on it, giving you a good look out of one of the open windows. Idle chatter passing the time - plans for the next few days, the tiny bits of gossip you've caught while working.

How Krrsantan got that scar that arcs across his eye - a story you didn’t quite believe at first, because there weren’t laser swords in your time.

The piece of paper with some writing on it that she had seen in Mos Espa - the words illegible but somehow binding Charon to Boba, leaving him unable and unwilling to disobey an order.

And just as the sky reaches its darkest, the moon hanging full, there's the sounds of footsteps coming from the path behind.

Coming from the worn dirt path to town - someone to relieve Fennec of watch duty, since she was covering for a villager this coming evening. You still had a few hours ahead of you, until dawn rose.

You don’t look up - too busy narrowing your eyes at the flicker you thought you saw in the distance. But, through the old set of binoculars, there’s just the inky night looking back at you.

Shifts had increased when there had been rumors of Raiders nearby. Krrsantan spotting them when he had been out earlier that week, a few miles past the far edge of the fences. Disposing of some, but they always travelled in packs.

The settlement was growing, food starting to become even more plentiful. Word would spread, and those who were hungry would come - welcome or not.

Fennec uses your knee to push herself upward, and you sway with the moment. Something solid bumping into the leg that dangles, her casual “thanks, boss” capturing your attention.

Your head turns until you can see the person behind you, whose hip brushes against your thigh.

Boba Fett.

The breath catches in your throat as he lowers himself down, taking up the space where she had sat - the old picnic bench creaking, but holds steady. Your focus so solely on him, that you don't quite catch the goodbye she tosses your way.

Fennec shooks you a look, catching your delayed response. A cocked eyebrow, a smirk that splits her face; before she’s slipping out the door.

Leaving the two of you alone - the small flickering lantern warming the space where you're wrapped in darkness.

A silence lingers, until the conversation slowly begins. Going over routine ones during and after a shift. No changes in the traps set - tripwires scattered throughout the woods. No new tracks in the muddy riverbank. Nothing on the horizon.

As the minutes pass, you can't help but wonder why he's here. A small bud of hope just starting to sprout in your chest. Happy with the thought that maybe he just wanted to spend time with you, like you had been so secretly hoping.

And slowly, the topics turn. Away from the semi-formal reporting, to detailing small moments about your day. Boba tells you about the defense turret they got running at the entrance to town. Only one, but it was a start.

About the second story above the old storefront that's finally been upgraded to home an official clinic - instead of the tucked-away corner they had been using.

You tell him about the large generator you'd gotten running. The couple lucky breaks you had gotten with the old equipment, how you had managed to find enough scrap metal to replace the rusted bolts and wires.

The look in his eyes is pleased, appraising. Crinkling at the edges with his smile - as you wonder, if perhaps he no longer wishes he had left you in Mos Espa.

"Not many Wastelanders would be able to do that." The curve of his lips tilt into a frown, as if he's not sure how to word his question, "Did you do similar work before?"

Before. Before the end.

"No." The shake of your head is small, "Nothing like this, this has all been new. But I had a lot of time to learn, since I..."

The words thicken in your throat - almost choking you - but you push through, "Since I was alone for so long. And I've learned a lot in Mos Espa, too."

His eyes drop.

"I am sorry for your loss. We've all had them, but to lose everyone-" He doesn't have to words to finish, to even begin to convey the breadth of what you had gone through.

And for the first time, there's the urge to talk about them. A want to clarify, a deep-rooted feeling that you'd be safe to name them here, in this tiny shack.

"My family, they're... they're not gone." You begin, with the smallest waver in your voice. A second as you collect yourself - sending a glance his way, a small smile, "They're still in the Vault. The one I woke up in."

His face has gone from sympathetic to concerned - a sharp focus of his brown eyes, a pinch of his brow as he concentrates. You think he knows, somehow, how important this is.

"It's hard to explain but from what I've pieced together, when the bombs fell we were put into an extended cryosleep. Frozen in time." You frown, as you try to cut down your extensive research into the barest of bones, "I don't know why, but I woke up early."

There’s a slow nod as he follows, a relief coming when he does.

"And I tried to wait it out in the Vault. I really did. But after months had passed, I couldn't take it anymore." You get lost in the memory for a moment. The aching hours of isolation, those painted-white and silent walls, "So, I left. I went out."

"Very brave of you." His voice is low, in the dark.

"Very stupid." You smile, remembering those weeks - months - ago, "If you hadn't found me-"

The words die on your tongue, as you look at him. The curve of his lips as he remembers that fateful first meeting. Pure luck - you know that now, living in the outside world as long as you have now. The warmth in your chest swells at how far you've come since then.

"…But, I think they're okay. I think they'll wake up when it's time." You still hold onto that last tiny part - the exact timing. That feels like too much to give, to anyone.

Boba hums in contemplation, his fingers steepling as his elbows press into spread knees. Eyes drifting past your shoulder and beyond, as he thinks.

"They are welcome in Mos Espa. There's plenty of space in the east wing now." Boba's voice is solemn, a finger breaking free to brush against his lower lip - already planning, "I can move you over there, when we get back. Block out the rooms.”

So casual in the way he offers you salvation, once again. The heavy weight of worry that’s been sitting on your chest for some weeks now - wondering how you’ll ever afford housing for everyone, even in four years time.

A kindness offered out now, without thought.

Everything seems to go still for a moment, as your feelings tip into something almost tangible.

Love, you think dizzily. That bud in your heart suddenly blooming fiercely, the petals filling up the cavity of your chest.

Not even realizing you’re standing until his eyes drop, to where your feet creak on the thick wooden boards.

Yours stay fixed on his face. The dim flicker of the lantern catch the shadow of his scars, and you in this moment you don’t know if you’ve ever wanted to kiss someone more.

It’s then that he catches you looking, his head cocking as he considers you. The flicker of a shadow across his expression, the grit of his jaw - as if he was steeling himself.

His next words catch you off guard.

“I’m not one of your handsome princes or noble knights.” Boba’s voice is a low rumble, soft in the night air, “You know that, right?”

You frown - confused by the sudden turn, not knowing where this is going.

A protest, that he is handsome - that you’ve spent weeks thinking so, knowing so - bubbling in your throat, but he cuts you off.

“I’m an old man. I’ve seen-,” He frowns then, a moment before he continues, “I know what you want, princess. But I don’t think you really know, yourself.”

His words make you blink. Stepping towards him, as your hands brace on your hips.

Bypassing the embarrassment and barreling right towards indignation, “You don’t think I know what I want?”

Boba’s lips press together, the mark deepening between his brows. A shake of his head, the movement slow, “You want the idea of something. But it’s not reality.”

The rejection stings. It rips through you, your hands curling into fists, until your nails bite into your palms.

A final blow, “You’re not seeing, sen’ika.”

Your eyes drop. He makes you feel small, as if he’s wearing his hulking power armor now. Easily battered aside, left and forgotten in the Wasteland.

But you’ve grown, since then. Stronger and braver than when you first met.

“I see just fine.” You bite out, your heart fluttering in your chest, your breaths shallow, “I see someone that Din listens to, and respects. Someone who saved Fennec and gave her another chance.”

He’s looking at you, unblinking. Face impassive, as your voice threatens to crack, “I see someone that this settlement trusts and follows, when there’s little left for us to believe in.”

You inhale a breath, blinking back the prickle that stings your eyes. You’re aching and crushed, and the feelings in your chest are breaking out of their shackles, bursting free.

“I see someone I-”

Boba doesn’t let you finish.

The shell around him cracks with your words - a hand darting out to wrap around a wrist. It only take one willing step, before you’re tugged between spread knees.

His other broad hand spans the back of your neck, cradling it as his mouth presses to yours with a growl.

It’s messy, insistent. Your lips slotting with his as you move closer - knees knocking against the breadth of his chest as you climb onto the bench to straddle him.

His tongue brushing against your lip, a scrape of teeth as you open, whimpering. The layers of his dark robes beneath his armor are soft to the touch as your fingers sink in, as his hands find your waist and drag you closer.

It’s not like the times you’ve had, before. Hushed whispers in bed, careful fumbling. Moments from lifetimes ago - a different world.

Here, his finger dig into your hips. The nudge of something that stiffens against your core as your thighs spread wider. A mouth that presses open-mouthed against your neck, a low chuckle as you whine.

Boba knows where to touch you, your head tilting back so he can kiss at your throat, and then down. Fingers rucking up your shirt, plucking at the buttons until the cool night air is raising goosebumps against your skin.

Heat pools between your thighs, a neediness that has you rutting against him. A shiver making you tremble when his lips brush the curve of your breast, his breath warm against your skin.

“Is this what you want?”

You can only manage a weak sound, a soft gasp.

“Tell me, princess. Do you want this?” There’s a firmness to his voice that has you finding your own.

“Yes.” You look at him, his chin pressed against your sternum, waiting for your answer.

Lips parted over clenched-together teeth. A groan, then - as a finger hooks around the center gore of your worn, cotton bra.

A rough yank as he tugs it down, baring you. His tongue pressing against the stiff peak of your nipple, as your thighs close around his thick waist.

You jerk in his touch, moaning as his lips close around you. Leaning into the soft suck as his hands grip at your waist, fingertips brushing over the bare skin above the waistband of your trousers.

Tugging then at your belt, as your fingers fan out and then wrap around a shoulder.

His teeth graze your nipple, the briefest pinch before his tongue soothes it. The night quiet except the rasp of denim against his armor, as your hips rock again.

As you moan his name, sounding so pretty on your lips, “Boba. I need you.”

Racing past want, now. A throbbing in your core, an excitement coursing through your veins that feels so new. You’ve desired before, but never quite like this.

He’s tugging at the zipper now, and your hips lift to help him. Your fingers hooking around the waistband, a foot dropping down to the earth as you stand.

A knee resting in the bench as you awkwardly push both layers down to your ankles.

Your small squeak is shushed when he nudges at you - hands that press at your hips, drawing you back to the bench.

The old wood seat pressing into your bent knees as he bends you over the table, a hand smoothing down you back.

“You need me, hm?” His mouth is level with your shoulder, now. A flex of your muscles as his lips brush against your skin, as he peels the opened shirt from you.

Tucking it beneath your elbows for padding, a small moment of consideration.

“Please,” you breathe, eyes closing as his strong hands shift you up just a little further - the edge of the table biting into your skin, until - yes. There.

Right where he wants to you be.

Right where he can see you - his thumb tracing the curve where your thigh meets hip. Then, brushing against your core, so warm and wet, making your hips jerk.

“Here?” He asks, as his thumb makes a pass again.

Ghosting over soft skin, just shy of where you want him. Teasing you.

“Yes, there. Oh my god, there, please-”

You feel yourself clench, rocking your hips into his touch.

Expecting the blunt press of his cock to follow. Trying to turn your head to watch him disrobe, not expecting him to lower himself down onto protesting knees, instead.

Unable to - as his mouth replaces his fingers, tasting you from behind. The hot swipe of a tongue against your folds, as your head drops forward to thunk against to wood.

Eyes closing as he eats you, a pleased hum in his throat as his palms flatten on the curve of your ass, gently tugging.

Keeping you spread, even as you grit out an “oh, fuck-” that is way too loud. Unable to help it, with the way his lips suck against your clit.

Your fingernails scratching against the wood, as he draws back. Eyes sweeping over your soaked skin as his thumb presses against your opening - nudging just the tip inside.

“Just look at you.” He husks, as he feels your muscles tighten around him. Seeing how the angle keeps you spread so open for him, a tremble in your thighs as you hold back the urge to grind into his touch.

“A sweet thing like you, so wet for an old bounty hunter like me.” Boba’s voice is low - drawing his thumb out so it can swipe over your folds. Leaving you glossy, slick with desire, “You should be running, princess.”

The edge to his voice makes you moan, goosebumps raising at his warning. Too far gone to take any heed of it, not when his middle finger is pressing inside you.

Sinking deep, down to the knuckle - before withdrawing. Pulling back to fit it back in, and you can hear the sound of your cunt swallowing him.

It’s been too long. Two hundred years, you think derisively - the strangled laugh coming out as a hushed whine by the time it passes through your teeth.

The slow build across these weeks too much, your feelings twisting with your desire until you feel ripe - about to burst.

Your breathing ragged as his nose presses against you, as a second finger hooks inside, scissoring you open.

His face angling to press a tongue between those fingers, inside you, before his tongue licks at your clit again.

The arch of your hips is automatic, as is your cry. Never expecting this, the man that is groaning into your cunt. The soft shuffle of fabric as his other hand drops, as he frees himself without looking.

Preparing his cock to replace his fingers as soon as he feels you drip onto his tongue. It won’t be long, not with the sounds he makes.

A low sigh, the wet, rhythmic suck as you take his fingers. Curling the tips to stroke against a soft spot inside that has you clenching around him.

Rumbling words and warm breath between your thighs, punctuating the flick of his tongue.

“Tight little cunt.”

“Need to make you cum before you take me.”

Words escape you. Twisting in your brain, only to escape as half-hushed sounds. A tightness stringing through your body, as he threatens to wrench something from you.

With the pump of his fingers and the pull of his voice. Tender words twisting up and around you as it feel like a countdown flares to life in your belly, ticking down with each swipe of his tongue, the pointed curl of his fingers.

“Boba,” You moan, and it’s a filthy thing. A harsh, strung-out moan as your breathing turns short. Each one turning into a soft “oh!” as he hums.

“Fuck, ah-, don’t stop-”

And you know he won’t. Intent behind every movement, as his hand leaves himself to smooth over the curve of your ass.

Three, and then two, and then one.

And then you’re burning, a bright spark that begins low and then spreads throughout your belly. Coursing down your limbs with a blinding, pulsing pleasure.

Your muscles stringing tight as you rock into his tongue - trapped between his chest and the wooden tabletop.

The moan muffled where you bury your face in the discarded shirt. Worried about crying out too loudly - alerting the others out on patrol.

He is not. A rasping growl as his fingers slide free, leaving you empty. Replacing them with his mouth as he spreads you open, leaving streaks of slick on your skin.

Letting you ride out your orgasm against his tongue, leaving his lips and chin smeared with you.

Waiting until all of your muscles go slack, before he pulls away

There’s a low hum, the creak of wood as he pushes himself to his feet. The hot, swollen curve of his cock brushing against your core.

A slow drag as he tucks himself flush, rocking his hips forward as he fits between your spread thighs.

“Have you had your fill, princess?”

Even with the sharp throb of arousal, he’s content to leave you like this. Loose-limbed against the table - a pretty enough sight for him.

But for you, it only makes you crave for more.

A strength coming back as you push yourself up again. Twisting yourself so you can see the parts of him he’s bared.

Lingering, for the briefest moment. Never thinking you’d get to see him like this. The thick curve of his cock making you wonder how heavy it would feel on your tongue.

A thrill in your belly at the way the flushed tip gleams, all from tasting you.

There’s the tap of his hand against your ass then, a gentle squeeze.

Your head shakes, your teeth sinking into your lip as you risk another glance. Lingering on the peek of skin above, the dark trail of hair leading down.

A second, as your thoughts come back to you - the slightest hesitance.

“I want all of you.” This part is easy to say, because you do. Desperately. “But I don’t have… anything.”

You never thought tonight would end up like this. Never thought you had to worry about what passed as protection, now.

He steps away from you, and you’re immediately missing him.

“We can stop.” His voice is low, but not unkind. Your nose scrunches because you very much don’t want to do that, but then he’s speaking again.

“But-” He catches your hand, brings it to the curve of his hip. Giving you a second to twist around, to press - feeling the slightest something beneath the skin, “This is an implant, very effective. It’s your choice, princess.”

Your hand drifts from his hip, then down. Trusting him, as your fingers curl around the base of his shaft - gently squeezing as you hear his soft groan behind you.

“Fuck, please-” You sigh, as you bend again.

Angling him against you as he hums in amusement - letting you try to line him up, in spite of the angle.

“Easy now, princess.” He rasps, as his hand wraps around yours - warm and firm.

The other curling against your hip, an intake of breath as he nudges against your slit.

“Tell me again,” Boba commands, with a slow sweep - pressing just barely against swollen, soaked flesh.

You don’t know if you can take much more teasing, “I want you. Please fuck me, please-”

He makes a low sound then, a strained groan in his throat. A pressure, as he starts to sink inside. First the blunt head - only to draw back, as you clench around him.

Then, another thrust.

Fingers biting into the table at the slick slide of his length. Each one inching him deeper, as you sigh.

The final punch of his cock steals your breath. A soft gasp at feeling so full, in that moment where you can feel his stomach pressing into your back.

Pinning you against the table, before he’s rocking back. Feeling the drag of his cock - almost all the way out. Nudging it’s way deep again, with a smooth thrust.

Picking up, as his hands splay flat against the table. Using it for leverage as he sets a steady rhythm.

Pounding into you, as you back arches. Doing your best to rock back and meet him, as that pressure bleeds into pure bliss.

The flickering lantern rattles with the force of his thrusts, jolting when your hips bump against the table. Again, and again - until a hand leaves the grip he has on your hip.

A finger looping around the handle. Reaching to set it on the knee-high crate, instead of the floor.

All the better for him to watch, to see. The perfect height to illuminate the shine of his cock as it disappears into you. The way your thighs glisten with your first release, while he works you towards a second.

If you thought you were a mess before, it’s nothing compared to now. Each breath no more than a gasp, with the way he’s pounding into you.

Your hand drifts then, sliding across the wood - trying to slip between your thighs, press where his tongue had been.

His own hand leaves the table to wrap around your waist, pressing between your breasts.

Tugging you back, and then up - until you’re curving against his chest. Your fingers forgetting their path as they curl around the edge of the table for balance.

Lips brushing your ear, his voice a low rumble, “I’ve got you, princess.”

Wanting to do this, himself. To pull every orgasm from you tonight with the press of his own fingers.

Canting his hips upward - seeming to drive even deeper as his other hand traces across your hip. Over and down, until it’s swirling against slick skin.

Finding the tight bud of your clit, a low hum when you whine as he presses down. Making your back arch further, toes curling as he begins to circle.

Winding you up, like before. That build of pleasure accelerated by the sound of his grunts and panting breath in your ear. The way he cock drags inside you, filling you so much that it’s impossible not to feel every inch and ridge of him.

“Fuck,” He groans, filthy in your ear as you clench down around him - as if you’re trying to keep him buried in your tight heat.

The rough gravel of his voice make you moan. His breath warm where it fans against a bare shoulder as his lips press to the spot under your ear.

“Taking me so well.” He sighs, with the scrape of teeth against your skin. No longer sounding quite so put-together, his voice losing that aloof edge, “Want to feel you come on my cock. One more time, yeah?”

The words are muted in your ears. Your heartbeat thudding louder, a steady drumming as you’re brought closer and closer to the edge.

“Yes,” You manage, the word coming out ragged, “Oh my god, I’m close-”

Grasping onto the table is no longer enough. Your hands twisting behind - wrapping into robes and around the edge of chilled armor as you cling to him.

Nothing to mute your cries other than the clenching of teeth, the whimpers still slipping between to be caught by the wind.

He grunts as you grind into his thrusts, your head tipping back against his shoulder. Muscles stringing tighter and tighter, as you try to tell him, warn him.

“Oh, oh, I’m gonna come-”

Barely getting the words out, before the pleasure tears through you. A shift of his arm - a mercy as his palm presses against your mouth, muffling the sound of your cry as he growls in your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s fucking it, come on-”

Too far gone to hold it back yourself, too caught up in the way you seem to radiate from the inside out.

A humming groan as he feels you, the tight pulse of your cunt as you come - those sharp thrusts turning into a slow grind.

Slicking him up further, dripping down his cock. Fingers keeping their steady rhythm as your hips buck, riding it out until the pressure starts to twinge.

Only then, does his hand lower. Pressing again against your heaving chest as your head tilts.

A hiss of air through his teeth as you mouth at his jaw with contented sighs. Those sounds dropping low as he shifts - leaving you empty as he pulls from you.

You whine, before he’s fitting himself between your thighs. A slow slide as you shift your legs closed, his cock tucked between your legs and pressed snug against your pussy.

A thrust, and then another. It won’t take many, not with the memory of you coming on his cock, the way your lips press again to his throat.

His breath coming in short huffs, hands gripping at your hips and moving you to the rhythm he wants.

Fucking your thighs, so slick with your release. Nearly overcome with your murmuring encouragement, the way you can’t help but look down - admire the peek of his cock when his hips are flush with yours.

“Gods.” He snarls, and then his fingers are pinching - your hands flying to the table again as his chest flattens across your back.

“Fuck. Fuck-”

He spills himself - each streak dripping down between the table top and the bench with the force of his orgasm. The grind of his hips leaving him sticky on your thighs, a low growl with each twitching throb of his cock.

Keeping himself pressed flushed for a few long minutes - the sounds of your joining petering out, as your heartbeat returns to normal. As he softens between your thighs, as arms and fingers finally relax.

There’s a softness in the way Boba kisses you after, a press of his lips against your shoulder. A hand petting across your hip, pressing slow, soothing circles.

Eyes averting politely as you tug up your clothes, as he kicks dirt over his mess - he’ll clean it up later, in the morning.

When you settle back on the bench, his arm rests across the tabletop behind you. Letting your head dip against his shoulder as he tucks you into his side.

“I’ll wake you at sunrise, sen'ika.” His voice soothes, as you feel your eyelids getting heavy. Warm in his embrace, something you’re not used to.

A little sigh, as you wiggle closer. Gloved fingers trailing against your arm, in a soft looping pattern. Your mind wandering as you start to drift off, thinking you can ask now - about that name he calls you. A fixture since that first day - something you've thought about endlessly, but never had the courage to ask.

"Boba?" Your eyes crack open, as he makes a sound of acknowlegement, "What does that mean? That name... sen'ika?"

The question comes out sleepy, mumbled - punctuated by a yawn.

"Go to sleep, little bird." Boba's words are pointed, but you think you can hear a smile in them.

You grin, as your eyes close again. A coziness in his answer, settling over you as your thoughts go quiet. As your cheek presses against the cool metal of his armor.

Uncertain if he has anything more he can offer, beyond tonight.

Out here, trust and tenderness carry a weight you’ve never known before. Actions have a currency that wordsno longer held. Things left unsaid - because there’s an ache in everyone now, and sometimes it’s too much to voice them.

After all, this is the Wasteland. And you’re a scavenger, now.

You’ll take anything you’ve been given.

Ahh their conversation in the cabin and the storytelling in the last chapter were the first scenes I had mapped out when I started this (back in Jan!) so it feels so exciting to get to this chapter! Thank you for reading 💚 part viii will be out thursday, the 20th! and if you’d like to get tagged, please fill out the series taglist here!

(0-pressure tags 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights, @wingofshadow, @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force, @valentine-tx, @ri-a-rose, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved, @writeforfandoms, @winchestershiresauce, @monada43, @rescuethewretched, @thegalaxys-edge, @honeydjarin, @ray-rook, @dumfanting, @bedky, @thirsty-boba-fett-posts, @dukeoftheblackstar, @lifelikefae, @pentaghasm, @izbelross, @margowritesthings)

#FINALLY #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut

[sleepingsun501]

Good Morning, Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!reader

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

Rating: Explicit 18+

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

Word Count: 2k

Ao3 link

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

Good Morning, Princess

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Together, baby. Cum with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

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[acatalystrising]

I have FINALLY returned! Life have been nuts but I’m getting back into the swing of things. I have a lovely requested one shot in the works, and I absolutely cannot wait to share it. I want it to be perfect so I’m taking the time it needs to be just right. In the meantime, I have something a little less…sweet…and moreeee…indulgent. Yeah, that’s it. LOOK, I’ve been missing my green tin can man, and I have had THOTS.

So without further ado, please enjoy this purely filthy oneshot of ROTJ bounty hunter Boba, in his prime, just because I felt like it. (And iffff you really like it, there may or may not be more hehe)

(Obviously this is NSFW, minors DNI. Predator/prey, dom Boba x sub!reader, reader is a virgin, dirty talk/praise, slight voyeurism if you squint, and Boba just being…well, Boba. *Because we all know younger Boba is a menace okay*)

Oneshot: Reckoning

Your uncle had trained you for this moment.

Had prepared you for the day this nightmare would arise. You knew a hunter would come, the only question was who. But no amount of training could compare to standing face to face with him.

Boba Fett.

Of all the bounty hunters in the Galaxy, fate had deemed to send the best. You’d heard of him, of course, but nothing could have prepared you for a face to face encounter with the armored hunter.

The T-visor was black and inhuman, boring into your soul, and you had the distinct worry that he could read your panicked thoughts. He stood before you, head to toe in chipped green beskar, path barred only by the counter between you both - but you weren’t a fool. You knew it offered you no safety. If he wanted you, he’d get you. But he wasn’t here for you…and yet, that did nothing to ease your frayed nerves.

“Garrett Dal’isk,” the bounty hunter’s voice was deep and coarse, with an odd accent that burned like fine wine in the back of your throat. “Where is he.”

This wasn’t posed as a question. He knew this was your uncle’s shop, probably already knew where you both lived. Might have been watching you for an unknown span of time before striking. Kriff, what if he’d overheard the plan? Maybe he was just toying with you in some sick game, maybe you were doomed and-

“I asked a question, girl.” His voice hardened like iron, nearly a growl. He patted his gun with his free hand, held at the ready. “Won’t repeat myself.”

Shit. It was now or never.

“He went to get more wares,” you kept your tone even, but were unable to hide the tremor in your voice. “In the nearest town, that is.”

Boba Fett was silent for a moment, his helmet tilting slightly to the side, a lone finger tapping on his weapon. He clearly wasn’t satisfied. You’d barely given him anything to go by. And he had said he wouldn’t repeat himself, hadn’t he? Maker, you’d get yourself killed if you kept this charade up.

“It’s Dask,” you let your words rush faster, embarrassment flushing your cheeks when he took a step closer, spurred footsteps clinking, like nails hammering into your coffin. “Five miles west of here. He’ll be at Olly’s, getting more supplies. Big blue building, you can’t miss it. And if he’s not there he’ll be-“

“That’s all I need,” his voice was sudden and sharp, though you could have sworn you detected a touch of amusement in his tone. You were probably imagining things. “So quick to betray your uncle, hmm?”

You swallowed hard, heartbeat pounding rapidly in your ears as horror flooded your stomach. How’d he know that?

“I…he…” you took a compulsive step backward, true fear overtaking your chest. “He…”

Fett chuckled, but it was a dry, humorless laugh that crackled through his vocoder like dry reeds in the wind. He took another step forward, as if following you, until he was leaning against the counter, helmet tilted to peer down at you, gloved hands mere inches away.

“You’d better be telling the truth,” his helmet tilted again to the side, and you flinched when he lifted a hand and brushed a fleck of dirt off your shoulder, “if you’re not, I’ll still catch him. Then I’ll deal with you.”

He stepped back, unseen eyes boring into you, giving you a final glance before promptly turning and walking back out the way he came. You heard his spurs even after the door closed, punching through the silence.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

And then they faded away to nothing.

You slumped against the counter, heart hammering, and promptly dry heaved into the trash can.

Oh maker, you were a dead woman walking.

-

The last hours of your shift were absolute hell.

It had been so…quiet. Barely any customers, leaving you trapped with your thoughts. You’d nearly bitten off all your nails to the point of bleeding, too anxious to stop pacing. But time passed by, as it always did, and there was no sign of Fett, or your uncle. Eventually, you closed up the shop and headed home…hoping for your sake your uncle was long gone.

Even as your speeder slowed to a stop in front of the quaint house you two shared, the anxiety roiled in the pit of your stomach like a growing storm.

There were no lights on inside.

Swallowing down your growing dread, you slipped in the house, and judging by the silence that awaited you, you were alone. Your shoulders sagged in relief as you piled your belongings on the counter with a sigh, walking down the hall toward your room. Maker, you were tired. Your uncle had been a fool, stealing those credits from the wrong people. Now you both would pay for it. He was your only family, really, but you still didn’t want to die because of his mistakes.

You stepped inside your dark room and turned to shut the door, when a familiar rasping voice broke the tense silence.

“You’re not a good liar, girl.”

Oh gods no.

You shrieked, twisting the doorknob to bolt, but a hand much larger than yours slammed the door shut. You were wrestled against it and pinned there, face pressed to the wood, one impossibly strong hand on your shoulder, the other around your throat.

“Tried to throw me off the trail? Nice try, not good enough.” Boba Fett’s voice was rough, right next to your ear, and you winced when you felt the cold beskar brush against your skin. “Your uncle hadn’t even made it to the shuttle. Shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

You could feel his body pressed against yours, the sharp edges of his armor digging into your much softer flesh. Despite the precarious situation, something about the low register of his voice and the position he was holding you in caused a completely different reaction then the fear currently flooded your lungs.

“Are you going to kill me?” When you finally spoke, your voice was small. The fear nearly chocked your words. You felt him shift against you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to feel the muzzle of his blaster against your temple.

But Boba Fett merely pulled back far enough to flip you around so you were facing him, those big hands pinning you to the wall by your shoulders.

“Any reason I shouldn’t?” His voice was a growl, the helmet predatory in the dark. He lifted a hand to your chin and you flinched, feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly as he tilted your head back. “Would be a shame, though, to waste this pretty face.”

You should have been enraged. Offended. Disgusted, even. And if it had been any other man holding you this way, you would have let lose a string of profanities. But for some reason, his words rendered you mute. You openly gaped at him, feeling betrayed by your own body as your cheeks heated up in a blush.

“Come now, don’t be shy,” Fett’s voice had taken a distinctly rougher tone, and you shivered when his thumb brushed against your throat. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you. Beg for it.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came. Stars, you were going to die. Boba pulled away, removing his hand from your chin, and you whimpered when he lifted his blaster into your line of sight.

“I said beg,” he gestured at you with a flick of the weapon. “Won’t ask again.”

“I…” you stammered, heart pounding. Maker, he was strong. “My uncle is…he…he hurts me. I only helped because he, he forced me to. Otherwise I…I would never. Never get between you and…and…your prey. Wouldn’t dream if it, no. I’m smarter…then that. Absolutely smarter. Would never…”

The grip on your shoulder tightened, and you winced when he leaned closer. He smelled of leather and blaster smoke, and you found yourself staring into that black visor as he closed the distance between you.

“That’s right,” Fett holstered his blaster with a practiced twirl, grip loosening ever so slightly on your shoulder. “Be a good girl and act like it.”

Oh gods.

You couldn’t stop the shudder that rippled through your body, and you desperately hoped he saw it as fear, and nothing else.

You should have known better.

“Liked that, hmm?” He pulled you away from the door, into the middle of the room. He released you from his clutches and slowly circled you, movements calculating, precise. “Should be scared for your life, but no…bet you’ve soaked your underwear, too. Dirty, dirty girl.”

You shivered, arms crossed over your chest, face assuredly flushing the brightest red as he stopped before you again, arms held loosely at his sides.

“I could kill you. Would be easy,” he stated this more as a fact than a threat, once again reaching for your chin. This time you didn’t flinch. “Must be really desperate, to be turned on by an old hunter.”

“You don’t…don’t seem that old,” you dared to speak, voice shaking, and swallowed hard. “I’m sure everyone begs and tries to get away. But I’m not…not a bounty. There’s no profit in my death, so please don’t kill me, I never…asked for this.”

Fett was silent for a moment, thumb ghosting over your skin before slowly stroking your throat, making your breath catch in your chest. Maker above…

“None do.” He pulled away, and you stopped yourself from leaning forward, feeling dizzy from his mere touch. “Stay out of my way, little one. Won’t be as merciful next time.”

Little one? Was that a pet name? You blinked, too stunned to speak.

Next time?

You frowned when he walked around you and opened the door as if he lived there, casually glancing back with a tilt of his helmet.

“Will I…see you again?” You felt the words leaving your lips before you could stop them, desire still overriding fear.

Stars, you swore you could feel the smirk hidden behind the helmet.

“Better hope for your sake you won’t,” Boba Fett gave you one final glance before walking out of your room and exiting your home, leaving you with an entirely different problem to deal with.

-

Two weeks had passed, and there hadn’t been a sign of your uncle or Fett.

You’d run the shop as you’d planned in a worst case scenario, managing to keep the roof over your head. You’d be damned if you didn’t try to make it despite the poor hand of cards fate had dealt you. But for some reason, you couldn’t get the armored hunter off your mind.

Maybe it had been his voice. Or the armor that made him look so menacing. Perhaps it was the way he held you, and spoke those words that made you shudder. Words you couldn’t get out of your head, try as you might. Words you were replaying, even now, as you lay on your bed and had your fingers buried in your aching heat, so desperately close to release.

What would he be like? Rough, you figured. Strong, bending you to his will. Not that you knew much of such things, but a girl could imagine. Imagine his lips on your neck as he filled you, reaching the places you couldn’t, bringing you to a shuddering orgasm that rivaled those brought by your much smaller fingers.

Would he kiss you? Keep his helmet on? Or even fuck you at all? Maker, you needed to move on, but as heat began to flood your core, you felt his name slipping from your lips in a pathetic plea. You were so, so close…

“Oh Boba…”

A loud crash broke your concentration, and you yelped, pulling your hands free and jumping to your feet, pulling your pants back on. What the hell? Was it your uncle? Fett? A robber? You reached for your blaster even as booted footsteps pounded down the hallway. Fear twisted in your gut as your door burst open, revealing a stranger.

You screamed, raising the blaster to fire, and the man smirked, his own blaster aimed at you.

“Don’t even try it, girlie,” he pointed at the ground with a sneer. “Drop the weapon and come along quietly. I’ve had enough difficult bounties for one day.”

Your eyes widened. Bounty?

“You…you’re looking for my uncle.” You didn’t drop the blaster. “He was already taken. You’ve got the wrong person.”

The man only smirked and withdrew a tracking fob, pressing a button, revealing a small holographic picture of your face.

“Looks like a match to me.” He tucked the fob away, gesturing at you with his weapon. “So put it down. You’re not getting out of this.”

Panic coursed through you like lighting, horror numbing your brain. Maker, what was happening? Why would you be wanted? What could you have possibly done to warrant…

Shit.

This had to be your uncle’s doing.

“What did I say? Put it down!” He went to take a step forward, bearded face twisted in a dark glare. “You’d better listen or I’ll-“

A plasma bolt suddenly slammed into the man’s back, dropping him to the ground. Smoke wafted from a charred hole between his shoulders, and you shrieked when none other than Boba Fett stepped into the doorway, deftly stepping over the body.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear-“ you immediately launched into a plea, but he held up a hand, inspecting the body in silence.

You watched, terror rising renewed in your chest, as he approached you, chipped armor gleaming in the sunlight. He stopped a mere inch away, helmet tilted down toward you, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Had I known you’d be using my name to get yourself off, I’d have done the job myself.” His gruff tone was uniquely coy, and despite your terrible situation, your cheeks burned furiously.

“I…I…did you watch?” Embarrassment flooded through you and you tried to turn away. “How long have you been here? Who would be so…so vile?”

His hand lashed out faster then you could blink and latched onto yours, pulling you against his armored chest. You thudded into him with a wheeze, hands pressed against his armor, and could only stare up at his helmet with wide eyes.

“Next time you’re gonna take care of business, don’t leave your window open,” his voice was a growl, one that sent heat pooling straight to your center. “I was tracking the idiot trying to take you. Now, where were we?”

“I shouldn’t have a bounty. I haven’t don’t anything, I-“

A gloved finger pressed against your lips, silencing you.

“Not that, little one. We’ll deal with that oversight later.” Fett drug his finger down your lips in a near caress, stroking your jawline. Damn, he must have paid attention to how it had affected you. “You didn’t finish.”

“Finish? What do you-“ your eyes widened when the implications of his words hit home. “Oh. OH. It’s nothing, it’s fine.”

Fett released you, and you nearly stumbled, watching him with wide eyes as he set down his blaster, helmet still trained on you.

“I won’t force anything on you.” He regarded you with a slightly tilted helmet, voice low, even. But not entirely unkind. “But I can help you, if you want.”

Stars, you felt like prey. Cornered, trapped. But maker, you could only stammer, words stumbling from your lips like a baby deer taking its first steps. Since when did the prey want to be hunted? To be captured?

Oh kriff, you were doomed.

“But I…I…umm, well you see…” you flushed, meeting the visor’s blank, yet intent stare, afraid you’d ruin whatever this…was. “I’m…well, a virgin.”

Boba Fett was silent. Silent when he slowly approached, spurs clicking on the floor. Silent when his fingers once again found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

“I came all this way for a kriffing virgin?” His voice was rough like hewn stone, ragged like a beast barely restrained.

You nodded, wide eyed, too scared and ashamed to speak. Would he reject you? Kill you if he lost interest? But Boba merely stroked your cheek with his thumb, an uncharacteristically gentle gesture, breaking the silence with a deep chuckle laden with promise.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, mesh’la.” He traced your jawline with a gloved finger, dropping to your neck, stopping right at your pulse point. Your breath was ragged, huffing, waiting, wondering what he would do next. “Say no, and I’ll walk away. This never happened.”

Oh maker, but you didn’t want to say no. Heat coiled in your stomach, growing like a wildfire between your legs. You swallowed thickly, eyes wide, gaze fixed on that impassive visor.

Damn it all, chances were you were going to die anyway.

“I…on one condition,” you nearly flinched when he took another step forward, pinning you against the wall, so very close.

“Depends on the request,” his answer was nearly a purr as he drug a finger across your lips.

“Kiss me.” Your chest was so tight you could barely breathe, much less speak. “If I’m gonna die, or get fucked, I at least want a kiss out of it.”

He paused, as if the request was unexpected. You watched with bated breath as he seemed to calculate a response.

Boba Fett chuckled, a dark, low rumble from his chest that settled in the back of your throat like fine wine. Stars, he was dangerous. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair, pinching a lock in-between his thumb and index finger.

“Little princess has a dirty mouth, hmm?” He gripped your hair tighter, pulling ever so slightly. Heart pounding, you did your best to stifle a moan. “What would your uncle think? His little girl being so filthy with a bounty hunter. Begging for him to fill her. Wanting him to be her first.”

“Don’t…don’t care.” You swallowed again, daring to sneak a glance down at his codpiece.

Boba’s hand lifted from your hair and returned to your chin, directing your gaze back at his helmet.

“Curious mouse.” He chucked again, running his other hand down your side, stopping at your hip. “Think you’re brave, girl? Asking for what no one gets. Is that right?”

You nodded, heartbeat pounding so loud you wagered he could hear it. His grip on your chin tightened, bringing your focus back on him, and him alone.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Y-yes…” you didn’t look away, even as your pulse thrummed beneath his touch, betraying just how much he affected you. “Sir.”

He grunted, the hand at your hip dropping lower, thumb hovering dangerously close to your crotch. You wriggled against him, anticipation rising, nearly muddling your thoughts to complete disarray. Maker, this man would destroy you…and you’d let him.

His helmet pressed against your cheek, and when he spoke, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He slowly lifted a hand to the side of his helmet, unlocking the clasp with a soft airy hiss.

“Good girl.”

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