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daimyosprincess · 1 year

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PART I: FOREWORD

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

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

—SUMMARY: When the new Mandalorian studies professor Boba Fett comes into the university library looking for help, you’re more than happy to be of assistance.

—WORD COUNT: 6.4k

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, references to sexual themes, alternate universe, professor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is mid-twenties and Boba is late forties), bisexual reader, reader described as having hair, alcohol consumption by reader and others, GRATUITOUS flirting (like a ridiculous amount), use of pet names

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here it is, my first ever posted fic! I'm so excited to share this with y'all, it's been so much fun to write. Thank you for all your support for this series. Enjoy the Boba brainrot with me :)

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

Part II>

The university library is dead—classes aren’t in session and things are slow. The afternoon summer sun streams through the building’s tall windows, illuminating the dust motes that dance in the golden light. The faint rustle of papers turning is the only sound filling the idle air other than you and your coworker’s chatting at the circulation desk.

“No, I’m telling you there’s no good guys to date here. They’re all either emotionally unavailable or terrible in bed… or both,” your friend Selena gripes. She’s exasperated by the most recent of her flings ghosting her after their last hookup.

Swirling your iced coffee, you roll your eyes. “Well maybe you need to expand your dating pool, there’s more out there than just twenty-something guys who spend all their time in the gym.” You grin knowingly at your friend—she definitely has a type.

She throws an elbow at you. “Hey! Not all of us are into girls and men old enough to be our dads! Speaking of which…” she cuts off, wiggling her perfect eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice calls from behind your back, “is there a librarian I can speak to about reserving my course materials?” The voice’s vowels lilt and come together like sand being molded by an ocean wave, powerful yet graceful—it’s a voice that could warm you in sunny, shallow waters or drown you in a raging storm.

All but choking on your coffee, you spin to face the front desk. Standing on the other side of the counter is the most handsome man you think you’ve ever seen: copper skin, white teeth, and dark eyes stand atop a crisp linen shirt rolled up to reveal thick, strong forearms. Pale, silvered scars crisscross his skin, glinting in the light, making him look equally dangerous and enticing, like a trap baited with everything you’ve ever wanted.

Shit, he could get me in a lot of trouble… and I’d let him. You clear your throat, doing your best to recover with at least some of your dignity intact—a difficult task when the absolute god of a man before you just heard that you’re definitely into men his age.

Selena, however, beats you to an answer. “Yes, sir, that would be my coworker here,” she answers in a sing-song voice, “she’s more than happy to help you with anything you need.” You shoot her a dirty look as she flounces away back to her desk in the back, her attitude completely unapologetic.

Being the flirt you are, you did fully intend to hit on this handsome professor, but that’s not the point. Rallying your thoughts, you flash him a dazzling smile. “Yes, I certainly am,” you confirm. “What can I do for you, professor…?” Your voice trails off in anticipation of his response, and you catch the dark gleam in his coffee-colored eyes.

“Fett, Boba Fett. Professor of Mandalorian studies,” he answers smoothly, his rich timbre confident and unphased by you and Selena’s antics.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, professor,” you respond, matching his blithe tone. You introduce yourself with your name and title as the research materials librarian.

He smirks, flicking his eyes over your frame in a casual, yet interested, way. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” When his eyes meet yours again, they flicker with amber fire, bright and tempting.

You let his compliment hang in the sunlit air between you for a moment, gauging whether he too felt the electric connection buzzing between you two. Judging by the glint in his eye and quirk of his lips, he did.

Game on. “Well, usually faculty submit their materials for purchase and reservation at the end of the previous school year or at the beginning of the summer session,” you inform him with an overly patronizing tone. “But I suppose I can make an exception for you since you’re being so polite.” You end your statement with a wink, inviting him in to test the waters.

Taking your hint, he leans his muscled arms on the high lip of the desk, bringing himself closer into your space. “You’re too kind. Things have been a little difficult since I’m new to the school and wasn’t in the country until last week… and I’d really appreciate your help, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like spiced honey, hot and sweet.

Your brows arch up and you run your tongue over teeth behind your lips as you consider the handsome professor. Most men you meet are either too intimidated or too stupid to give you a fair fight, but this Boba Fett… he might just be the one. Without saying much, he’s said it all: true power doesn’t need to be defended because it speaks for itself. His innate confidence makes your stomach tighten and your blood run hot—this is going to be even more fun than you first thought. “Why don’t you come into my office and I can see what all I can do for you, Professor Fett,” you offer with a flirty smile.

“Please,” he entreats with a saccharine smile, “call me Boba.”

Leaning against your doorframe, Boba shoulders his leather satchel, his broad shoulders rippling under the material of his shirt. The muscles in his arms carve out valleys in his marked skin, making your mind race with the thought of how those arms would feel around you, lifting you up, or pinning you down beneath him. The way he totally fills up the space around him is enough to send heat between your legs, and the snatches of fantasy only heighten the desire simmering in your core. You’ve done everything you can to help the professor at the moment, but neither of you seem too keen on parting just yet, much to your satisfaction.

“So how old are you, then?” he asks, eyeing you tilted back in your chair below him.

You’d teased him about his thesis date being long before your birth while you chatted as you submitted his materials requests. “Why, professor,” you taunt, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes, “are you trying to make sure I’m at least eighteen?”

He answers with a devil’s grin. “No, just trying to see whether or not I’m old enough to be your father.”

Yep, he definitely heard that earlier, you groan internally as heat pricks up your neck. Not one to be beaten so easily, however, you lazily trail your eyes down to his left hand braced on your door, a smirk splitting your face when you don’t find a ring. “As long as you’re single, I’m twenty-six.”

“And if I’m not?” he counters, cocking his head in pointed curiosity.

You pray to whoever might be listening that he is because you might not survive temptation much longer, not with the way he’s looking at you like you’re the sweetest dessert he’s ever seen. “Well then, I’d be twenty-six and disappointed.”

He snorts, shaking his head with a deliciously low chuckle. “You really are something, aren’t you, little one?”

Your stomach flips at his continued use of the sweet names, but you swallow it down. Boba Fett is a test you intend on passing and that means you have to keep your wits about you. “I have been told I can be quite the handful. Hope that's not a problem… don’t think it would be for you, though,” you reply, looking him up and down meaningfully and letting your eyes linger on the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. He’s built like a kriffing brick wall, thick and solid, and you want to climb him to the very top.

The sultry look he gives you makes you think he’d let you, too. “After forty-seven years, princess, I don't think it would be.”

That same hum of charged energy of your initial meeting fills your office as your gaze falls into line with the intense depth of his own. You were wrong before, he’s not looking at you like you’re dessert. You’re prey, soft and open, and he’s the predator tracking you deeper and deeper in the forest, far away so no one would hear your shriek when sunk his teeth into your flesh.

But did prey ever want to be torn apart by its hunter? You roll your lips together, squeezing your thighs against the embers of desire flickering to life between them.

A few moments later, your computer chirps with an email notification and you blink back to reality, the tension fizzling out into the surrounding air. Probably for the best since I’m about ten seconds away from jumping this man's bones in my office. Straightening up in your seat, you clear your throat. “Same time tomorrow, then, professor?”

“If it’s not a problem,” he shrugs, his heated gaze betraying his nonchalance, “I know you’re a busy girl.”

He’s clearly enjoying calling you everything but your name and you, much to your surprise, are lapping it up. In an attempt to even the score, you push up from your chair, snatching up one of your business cards from your desk and scribbling your cell number on the back. Sauntering over to him stretched out in your door, you stop just a little closer than absolutely necessary. You slip the piece of paper into his front pocket, pleased with the way the muscle in his jaw twinges at the contact. “Oh, no, it’s no problem at all,” you practically purr, “At the university, we want to make sure our new faculty enjoy everything the library has to offer.”

He huffs in amusement, not moving away. “Your efforts should be rewarded, then,” he notes, his voice like rich molasses, “You’ve been nothing but eager.”

Before you can stop the impish impulse, you rattle off your usual coffee order. The worst he can say is no, but something tells you he’s willing to indulge you just a bit more than most would.

He tilts his head to the side, his lips twitching into a smile in understanding a second later. “Size?”

“As much as you’re willing to give me,” you wink, flipping your pen between your fingers under your chin. You’d like to think he’d indulge you in that too, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he assures, his voice like bittersweet woodsmoke, “I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.” The promises laced through his words like invisible threads, weaving together images of love-bruised skin and rough hands pressed into soft flesh.

You swallow thickly, and almost groan in embarrassment when his eyes track the bob of your throat with a smug look. “You could get a man into trouble, little one. A lot of trouble…”

He shoves off the doorframe, his face swaying dangerously close to yours as he turns to leave. “See you tomorrow, princess.” He says the words like a promise rather than a casual expression.

“Oh, professor?” you call out after him. You can’t let this man come out of your office thinking he’s won your little game, your pride simply won’t allow it—and neither will the lurid desire bubbling up from somewhere deep within you. You want to push him, needle him until he snaps, poke the bear until he takes a swipe. Not very smart for someone who’s definitely the prey.

He turns to face you as if he had been hoping you’d stop him. “Yes?”

“You should know,” you bait, letting your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up in wicked pleasure, “I like trouble.”

Every day since your electrifying meeting has been an excuse to see him: hand delivering something that could have been interofficed, calling his office phone and inviting him to look over some course book in person, or volunteering to give him a tour of campus that happened to include lunch together. Boba’s like a burning sun and you’ve been ensnared in his orbit, your every phase and season given life by his heat.

When you couldn’t find an excuse to be around him, he found one; he came to make copies in the library because his department’s machine “never seems to work right,” the coffee shop gave him an extra pastry he “couldn’t possibly eat,” or the darn databases wouldn’t let him log in and you’re the “only one who can get them to work.” Even when your extensive partnership gathering his course materials came to an end, Boba was quick to offer you a spot in his office to work while last minute construction went on in the library before the start of the fall semester.

Boba’s office is tucked away at the end of a long hall in the gothic-style humanities building and quickly becomes your own personal sanctuary for the remainder of the summer. Its soaring ceiling and long, arched window gave a sense of lightness to the corner space, the natural light reflecting off the pale walls. Brass lamps with warm, golden light keep the room cozy when clouds roll in, along with the sumptuous oriental rug spread over the stone floor. Boba’s furniture is functional and comfortable; a large, sorrel leather couch sits perpendicular against the wall from his sturdy oak desk, accompanied by matching armchairs facing him for visitors. The walls are lined with bookshelves and cabinets housing his impressive personal library and mementos from his illustrious life.

It’s in this ivory tower oasis that your heart begins to grow into a softer shape and your mind settles into the rough-hewn grooves of the professor’s tides. The power of him both rouses and relieves, stirs and soothes; the shards of you are made into soft seaglass by the roll and drag of his waves against the sand. And oh, how you’re tempted to let him pull you under the glassy surface, to submit and let his current tow you to blissful paradise. You yearn to provoke his storms as well as seek his shelter from the harsh creatures of everyday life—you’re sure he’s going to be the end of you.

The week before classes start you’re slouched comfortably across the couch in his office. Sunlight dapples the room in a saffron glow through the forked leaves of ivy hugging the window as you’re half-heartedly responding to the numerous last minute item requests from harried professors. While most of them are smart enough to be polite, quite a few have decided to be rude, pain in the asses instead.

You grumble loudly, throwing your head back against the cushion behind you. Your frustration is not helped by the fact Boba is extra good looking today, his white shirt is practically glowing against his sun-kissed skin and open a button lower than usual for the breezy weather—not that you noticed those kinds of things about him. Just like you definitely weren’t aching for his attention that’s currently wrapped up in class prep.

“Why do all these professors expect me to drop everything to attend to their specific requests like I have nothing better to do?” you huff, massaging your temples with your fingertips. “I do have an actual job besides course reserves.”

Looking over a pair of reading glasses, Boba leans back in his chair, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Must have seen you doing it for me, princess.”

You blow out a dismissive sound and roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re different.” Snapping your laptop closed, you manage to keep the pleased smile from turning up your lips. You have Boba’s attention now, just like you really wanted.

“Mmm, different how?” he hums, his intense gaze now trained on your face.

The heat of his assured, teasing confidence makes your guts churn. While your mutual physical attraction to one another is surely evident to both of you, you’ve been doing your best to hide the fact that he holds your heart in his hands too. No use ruining the good thing you have going with the handsome professor by admitting you have an honest-to-god crush with feelings.

Rolling over on your side so you can prop your head up on your hand, you find Boba entirely too smug for your liking. Putting on your most innocent face, you blink up at him with wide doe eyes. “Oh, you know me, professor, always happy to help you older folks figure out all the complicated technology involved in getting your books.” Despite your efforts, you can’t help cracking a grin at the end of your sentence.

That sparks the fire you hoped it would in Boba, his eyes glittering and his posture shifting forward in response to your goading. “Watch it, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Heaven help me, he looks so kriffing good, his shoulders alone make me want to risk it all. “Don’t worry,” you grin, “I’ve never had any trouble swallowing what’s in my mouth.”

“Well, well, well,” a rich female voice interjects from the door, making you jerk upright. “If it isn’t the new Mandalorian studies professor going at it with the pretty little librarian. I should’ve known that I couldn’t trust you around her, Fett.”

“Fennec!” you exclaim, relief dousing your prickling surprise: she knew you were a tease. You scramble off the lounge and throw your arms around your friend. “It’s Wednesday,” you state, perplexed, “I thought you wouldn’t be back from your trip until Friday?”

She wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a satisfying hug. “Missed you too much, kitten, had to come back a little early,” she answers with her usual flirtatiousness. You don’t miss the way she winks at Boba over your shoulder as her palms slide over the small of your back when she pulls away. You secretly hope it will make him a little jealous.

“Never met a beautiful girl you didn’t try to seduce, have you Shand?” Boba pipes up from behind you, his tone familiar.

Your heart rate spikes at his compliment but you tamp down the heat threatening to creep up your face. Stepping back, you swing your head back and forth between the two professors. “You two know each other?”

Flicking her long braid over her shoulder, Fennec smiles, throwing a puckish look at the man behind the desk. “Oh, Boba and I go way back, long before either of us cleaned up and joined academia. Who do you think got him a job here?” she quips, sinking her weight onto her hip with her usual air of unapologetic fortitude.

“I got myself a job here,” Boba cracks back, his grumbling making it obvious he’s accustomed to Fennec’s ribbing.

She shrugs, grinning. “Don’t discount the power of a good word on the inside.” Slinging an arm around your shoulder, she loudly whispers in your ear, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing with a man like him anyways, kitten? Thought I taught you better than that.”

“Kark off, Shand,” Boba huffs, and Fennec throws her hands up in front of her chest in a showy apology.

Letting his languid gaze slide over to you, Boba studies the curves and planes of your body, mapping out each. You can’t squash the tingling glow buzzing in your chest at his attention, and your eyes sink down under fluttering lashes, your resolve weakened. “She’s a smart girl, she knows what she wants,” he finally says, releasing you from his inspection to smirk at his colleague.

The heat in your lower belly flares hot and wanting at his passive claim over you. Shit. Sometimes you wish he’d just shove your clothes aside and bend you over the nearest flat surface to take you for himself. Dangerous thoughts like those keep you up at night, wishing it his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy instead of your own.

You drop back down onto the couch to buy yourself a second to regroup. Kicking your feet up in an act of collected indifference, you drawl, “Aw, don't you two go fighting over me, there’s plenty to go around.”

“Yeah, but Boba doesn’t like to share,” Fennec snorts.

You grin up at the dark-haired woman and prop your computer back on your thighs. “Good thing we’re just friends then, Fenn.”

“Lucky him,” she chuckles. Straightening up and drawing a breath, her jovial expression settles into something more sincere. “Well, I’ve got plenty to do for classes next week, just wanted to stop by when I heard your voices. It’s good to see you again.”

Genuine affection spreads in your chest as you look up at your friend; for all her teasing and bluster, Fennec has a heart of gold. “Glad you made it back safe, Fenn, we’ll get coffee and catch up soon,” you promise with a candid smile.

“Sounds good, let me know if you ever want some better looking company.” She winks at you then tosses her head in Boba’s direction. “Always a pleasure to see you still in one piece, Fett.”

Despite his glowering expression, Boba’s voice is warm. “Same to you, Shand. Just remember to always watch your back.” The sound of the dark-haired woman’s throaty laugh echoes down the hallway as she heads towards her office.

When you look back at Boba, his mahogany eyes are already on you. They’re watching, as they often are, like you’re some fascinating phenomenon that might disappear if he doesn’t recommit it to memory repeatedly. “So you and Fennec are friends,” he states simply, leaning forward on his elbows. There’s something expectant in his tone, his demeanor hinting at anticipation. It makes the cozy atmosphere of the office crackle with intent.

You learned rather quickly that there was little use in trying to figure out Boba when he didn’t want to be figured, so you relax back into the couch and play along. “Yeah, she’s one of the first people I met when I started at the university. She took me under her wing and helped me find my way around here, she’s a good friend.” Before you can think better of it, you add, “But she’s only ever been a friend, despite what she might hint at.”

A small smile chips through the stony set to his features that makes your heart skip a beat. “Well that’s good to hear. Raises my hopes for your answer to my next question.” The richness of his voice belies any nervousness, if a man like him even feels such a thing. He always seems so sure, always in total control.

Was he jealous of Fennec? Your mouth goes dry and you force your easy smile to stay in place; Boba’s focus is zeroed in on you and you'd rather die than slip up in front of him—he'd enjoy it far too much. “Oh, do tell, professor. I'm all ears,” you urge, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your cool with passing success.

His lips twitch up, amused with your brashness. “You’ve been more than helpful these past four weeks, little one,” he begins, “I couldn't have gotten everything done for my classes or had the peace of mind to get properly settled here.”

“Really, it's no problem, I don't-”

Boba raises a hand for silence and your jaw clicks shut in quick obedience—much to your embarrassment and his obvious pleasure. “Whether you mind or not,” he continues, “or if you feel it's your job, I greatly appreciate all your efforts.” He studies you for a moment and it feels like he can see right through to your insides. “Can I take you to dinner at the Vineyard this Saturday, to thank you for all you've done?”

Genuine surprise releases a stream of words pouring from your lips before you can even register them. “The Vineyard? Downtown? It’s so fancy, you don't have to do that. I mean it's like $100 dinners and-”

“You deserve it, princess. I told you you'd get everything you deserve, remember?” Boba smiles, the corners of eyes crinkling in a fond expression. “Plus, I enjoy your company… and I think you enjoy mine, too.”

Your poor heart is beating so hard in your ribs you’re sure Boba's able to hear it. The safety of him and his space have disarmed your usual defenses, sanded down the spear of your tongue; it’s equal parts freeing and terrifying, uncharted territory ripe with possibilities and danger. You’re left unable to deny his assertion—or form any real words—so you opt to arch a brow instead.

“Don’t play coy, little one,” he chastens, his firm words and velvet tone skating over your heated skin. “I know construction in the library finished last week, yet you're still spending all your days in my office.”

Biting your lip, you do your best to look surprised. “Oh, really? I must have, uh, missed the memo on that,” you try lamely, scratching at the back of your neck. It’s a weak defense but it’s all you can muster at the moment, only half your brain is available to cobble together a response; the other half is too busy fighting the urge to leap over his desk and into his lap.

Boba chuffs a laugh, his handsome face all too knowing and his deep eyes sparkling with amusement—and maybe something darker, more sensual if you could bear to look. His reaction does, however, kick-start your customary attitude.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with the most sardonic look you can. “Well, I didn’t see you complaining, professor.” You tack on an eye roll for good measure as it never fails to get a reaction from him. And, oh, how you wanted to get one out of him, be the reason he’s loses his cool. Just the mere thought of it makes you ache.

Cocking his head to the side, he has the gall to look like he’s already won. “Why would I complain about getting what I want?” His face is drawn in a question, but his eyes flash with the answer.

“Well, you… you, er,” you stammer, suddenly unable to find a foothold. Boba had shaken the very earth beneath you with his admission, it has scattered your mind and rattled the bedrock of your resolve. The familiar nagging, forbidden desire to give in, to submit wells up in your throat; it would be easy, sinfully easy, to give up the fight and let Boba win. But easy’s never been my thing, has it?

Rolling back your shoulders, you mount your last stand. You let your head loll over to look at him directly, your eyes peeking out at him from under hooded lids. “And just what do you want, Boba Fett?” you answer, your voice husky and weighted.

The air itself thickens around you, dampening the outside world to something far away and unimportant as Boba contemplates his response. This is the impasse the two of you had been circling all along, choosing to precariously balance your brash determination against his indomitable will rather than risk tipping the scales. The only true solution is for one of you to give, but neither of you had yet been willing to break.

Finally, Boba’s lips part, a quick tongue darting out to wet the chapped skin. “I want,” he starts, low and deliberate, “to take you out to a nice dinner, have a good glass of wine… and have you all to myself.”

His words are etched in crystalline honesty and thus you have no choice but to respond in kind, even if it only skirts your shared quandary. “Then who am I to deny you, professor?”

The rest of the week might as well not have even happened as far as you're concerned—all that mattered was making it to Saturday. Boba had dangled the promise of sweet reward in front of you and seemed content to watch you flounder your way to it over the intervening days. It also didn’t help that Selena could not shut up about it, even now as she’s standing behind you, pinning and primping your hair to her liking.

“Ooo, I can’t believe it’s really happening!” she squeals, sliding another bobby pin into place against your scalp. “You and the hot professor, going on a date to a romantic restaurant all dressed up! I bet he’s going to invite you back to his place after. Do you think he has a big… you know?”

“If you never finish with my hair, I’ll never have to know,” you grumble. Now that the time has nearly come, you’re about sick to your stomach with all the overthinking you’ve done. You almost talked yourself out of going three times before Selena even came over to help you get ready.

“Hey, none of that sad shit,” she chides, pointing a hairbrush at you in the mirror. “You’ve been dying to go on this date all week, you’ve just got a little case of nerves. Totally normal.”

“But what if he doesn’t actually see this as a date? He never actually said it was. Or what if he really just wants to sleep with me and ditch me after this?” You groan, flopping back against your vanity chair miserably. Your earlier suspicions about his mutual feelings for you had soured—now you’re not even sure he likes you.

Selena thwacks the back of the head. “Ow!” you yelp, glaring at her in your reflection.

“Pull yourself together. Anyone within a mile radius of you two can tell you’re crazy about each other. Now sit still so I can get these pieces even,” she orders, centering you in the mirror with her hands on your shoulders. You do as she says, focusing on the practiced movements of her hands as a distraction for the feeling in your gut.

By the time you pull on your dress and slip into your shoes, you’re beginning to come back around to your usual self, likely in part due to the shot of tequila Selena convinced you to take with her—not that you needed much convincing to begin with.

She hypes you up as she fastens the clasp of your necklace around your throat. “Shit, girl, you look hot! I’m not sure he’s going to be able to take his eyes off you long enough to drive to the restaurant.”

“I do look good don’t I?” You flash yourself a smile in the mirror. After a trip to the mall yesterday, you and Selena had decided on a simple black satin slip dress and matching strappy heels. The deep “V” of the neckline and snug fit around your hips gave the dress just enough sex appeal while still being elegant. Twisting around, you check the lines of the dress in the back. “It’s too bad no one can see these panties, they’re so cute.”

“Oh, someone’s going to be seeing them alright,” Selena giggles from her perch on the end of your bed.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the girlish grin turning up the corners of your mouth at her insinuation. Shit, I hope he rips them off me. “Only if I decide he deserves to.”

“There she is, there’s the girl we know and love. Give him hell!”

Your phone dings on your bedside table and your friend snatches it up before you can get to it. “Hey! Give it!” you demand, grabbing at the device.

Sliding up the bed out of your reach, Selena hunches around your phone. “He’s here! And he sent a bunch of heart emojis.”

Your nerves tingle in cold-hot anticipation, your face going slack in disbelief. “He did?!”

Selena bursts into laughter. “No, I’m just messing with you, he just said he’s outside.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you groan, snatching away your phone. “Go ahead and see if I keep helping you come up with texts to send all your gym rat side pieces.”

She lays a hand on her chest, feigning shock. “You would never. Now get out there and blow his socks off, or you know, whatever else you want to blow.” She smirks suggestively, shooing you towards the door. “I’ll lock up, now out out out.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” Your heart hammers in your chest and you consider another shot of tequila before dismissing it—no need to set yourself up to be any hornier than you already are for the Mandalorian professor. Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you’re out the door.

Leaning against a sleek midnight black Audi is Boba Fett in all his glory, dressed in a well-fitted pressed shirt (with the sleeves rolled up, damn him) and gray slacks. His salt and pepper stubble and dark eyes make his already handsome face look even better. Catching your appearance in the doorway, he juts his chin up in greeting, his eyes sliding over you in obvious pleasure. “Evening, princess.”

He holds out an arm and you take it to step off the curb, testing his muscles underneath your fingers as you do; if Boba notices, thankfully he doesn’t say it. He opens the passenger door and you step in, settling down onto the supple leather of the lush interior.

He doesn’t close the door right away, instead standing and clearly enjoying the view down your dress. You glare up at him in mock annoyance. “You gonna stare like a dirty old man or are you going to take me to dinner, professor?”

“You’re the one who got all dressed up for a dirty old man, sweetheart, I figured you'd want me to enjoy it,” he replies smoothly, his lips quirking into a smirk as he shuts the door before you can manage a response.

Yep, these panties don’t stand a chance.

“So, Fennec tells me you were some sort of deadly mercenary gun-for-hire before you settled down to teach the impressionable young minds of university students,” you smile cheekily over your glass of wine, swirling the sparkling contents around the cup’s curves. “That true?” Stars help me if it is, I don’t know if he can get any sexier.

The evening air is crisp and warm, a mild sea-breeze rustling the hem of your dress under the table. The scene laid out around you is so terribly romantic you have to pinch yourself a few times to make sure it’s not all part of the best dream you’ve ever had. Tables for two are scattered over a stone patio overlooking the sunsetted ocean, with glowing candles in their centerpieces and string lights criss-crossed overhead illuminating the space with soft light.

Boba lets out an exasperated sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Of course she did. Don’t believe everything she says about me, she loves to tell a good story.”

“Avoiding the question, are we?”

“Sure you don’t want any dessert?”

“Aww, come on Boba, pleeease? Please tell me,” you whine playfully, sticking out your bottom lip for extra effect. He hadn’t denied you anything yet tonight—and you intend on keeping it that way.

He sighs, resigned to his fate. “You’re going to be the death me, you know that, princess?” You squeal a pleased sound and lean in conspiratorially on both your elbows, eager to hear his answer. Tossing his napkin from his lap onto the table, he leans against the back of his chair and props his arm up, gazing at you over the candlelight. “I’ll tell you, but you have to answer a question of mine if I do. Deal?”

Running your teeth over your lip, you nod, blinking your eyes down to his crotch and back up to his face slowly so he’s sure to notice. “Yeah, we have a deal. Spill it.”

True to his word, Boba recounts what you’re sure is a heavily abridged version of his life before becoming a teacher. He was born on a rainy little island called Kamino and lost his father young. While his father was a Mandalorian, Boba himself didn’t necessarily consider himself to be one, hinting that he hadn’t felt the most welcome by his father’s people when he visited the island of Mandalore before it’d been nearly wiped off the face of the earth.

Alone in the Mandalorian diaspora, Boba had turned to what he knew best to make his way in the world: fighting. Working protection gigs, “recovering property” (which no doubt was not entirely legal), and retrieving missing or abducted persons, he made a name for himself in that world as the best since his old man. It was also how he met Fennec, who apparently was one of the best espionage mercs money could buy, and why he had a ridiculous amount of money for a college professor.

“So why did you go into teaching then?” you ask, pushing your now empty glass aside. “Kind of an interesting choice considering your… previous profession.”

“Didn’t plan on it.” Boba drains the rest of his glass and sets it next to yours. “After one too many close calls, though, I knew I couldn't continue that life. All of that wasn’t-isn’t the legacy I want to leave behind. The death of my father and his heritage might have been out of my control, but I will not let it be in vain. So I took what I knew, learned what I didn’t, and started teaching in Mandalorian studies.”

You two sit in silence for a while, watching the tide roll in under the silver gleam of the moon. “Thank you for sharing.” Your voice is almost a whisper, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. He would've been so proud to see the person you’ve become, I’m sure of it.”

Boba tilts his head to the side, studying you as if you’ve said the most interesting thing the world has ever heard. “Thank you… that’s kind of you to say,” he answers quietly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you himself. The careful look in his eye makes you wonder what other secret burdens the handsome professor bears in silence. Even more so, it makes you want to shoulder some of it, or at least provide him some sort of relief.

The table off to your right bursts into hoots of laughter and the dusky spell between you is broken. You blink the haze out of your eyes and Boba clears his throat.

“Time to pay up, sweetheart. It’s my turn to ask you a question,” he smiles, his white teeth catching the flickering candlelight. The faraway solemnity in his eyes is replaced with dark heat.

“Go right ahead, I’m all yours,” you grin back, “ask away.”

Signaling your server for the check with two fingers, Boba leans forward, taking your hand in his large one. “Tell me, little princess, am I dropping you back at yours after this, or are you coming home with me?”

—Endnotes: I don’t know anything about cars, I just know that Audi is a fancy car brand, at least in the US. Don’t judge me 😭. Also I guess this is a coastal university. I don't have a name for the school yet though, what do y'all think?

Part II>

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 3- Glove Kink

Boba Fett x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 1.2k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), fingering, established relationship, throne sex, brief reference to exhibitionism, slight possessiveness

Notes- Can never go wrong with some throne sex with Boba! It’s been so long since I’ve written for him and I miss him! List provided by @the-purity-pen

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates

“That’s the last one for today, sir,” the droid bid Boba a farewell after a long day of meeting with constituents.

Boba sat on his throne and sighed from exhaustion. He used to travel from planet to planet chasing bounties, and yet sitting on Jabba’s old throne felt like harder work. He looked over to his side and saw his helmet sitting on the soft cushion, his only companion in the now empty room. Boba’s hands drifted down to his hands, but the thought he was was interrupted when a familiar and welcome voice.

“Boba?” you tentatively approached his throne, “You alright?”

His eyes trailed up your figure and he sighed deeply as a smile flashed on his face, “I am now, love,” he extended his hand to you, “Come here,” his tone dropped as a flame lit up behind his eyes.

A shiver ran up your spine as you placed your bare hand in his gloved one and let him guide you into his lap. Instead of sitting on your side like he anticipated, you straddled his waist and placed your legs on either side of his body. Boba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as you were face to face with him, your legs folded on either side of his as you cupped his face.

“How can I help you, Boba?” your voice was low as you smirked at gaining the upper hand for now. You slowly rocked your hips against his and savored the rumble that reverberated from deep in his chest.

“Careful love,” he warned, “Are you sure you can handle what you’re asking for?”

It was a game the two of you played, and one you both excelled at. You loved to tease him, and you especially loved when you frustrated him enough to pin you down and have his way with you. And Boba loved to push you to your limits, but never so much that you couldn’t be brought back. He always took care of you afterwards too, which was both your favorite parts some nights.

You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest. Boba immediately ran his thumb across your nipple through the fabric as you bucked your hips against his, “I can handle anything you throw at me, Boba,” you purred.

He huffed softly, “I know you can, love.”

Boba reached around your body and grabbed your ass with his free hand. In tandem, he kneaded your body and watched as soft moans spilled from your lips. His cock hardened under your body as you rubbed yourself against him, desperate for more.

“So lovely,” Boba praised you as he leaned forward and kissed his way along your neck.

“Boba…”

The hand that cupped your ass moved to your front and worked to push the fabric away. He hissed when he saw that you made it easy for him today by wearing less layers than usual. By just parting the top layer, you were completely exposed to him, and Boba saw the way your pussy clenched around nothing.

“Eager today, aren’t we?” Boba’s deep chuckle went right to your core and you whimpered as you clung to him.

Without removing his gloves, Boba cupped your pussy, and even though the leather he could feel how wet you were.

“Very eager, I see,” Boba smirked as he rubbed slow circles on your clit with his gloved finger.

“Boba…” you breathed as you lifted your hips for him and clung to his shoulders.

“Yes love?” Boba got that cocky tone in his voice whenever you surrendered yourself to him, “Tell me what you want?”

“I want…” you gasped when he pushed his finger against your clit a little harder, “Fuck me with your fingers, Boba… With the gloves on.”

He paused as he cupped your face, “Are you sure, love?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, “I’m sure.”

Boba kept eye contact with you, and for several long moments, he didn’t move. You were about to ask if he was alright when suddenly you felt the roughness of his leather gloved finger at your entrance. Your mouth dropped open as he slowly and carefully pushed a single gloved finger inside of you.

When your eyes threatened to close, Boba grabbed your chin in a tight grip, “Eyes on me, love,” he growled, “Let me watch you.”

It was difficult, but you fought to keep your eyes open and connected with his while he pushed his finger the rest of the way into you. Your muscles held onto his leather-clad finger in a vice grip as you felt yourself get wetter by the second. Boba’s fingers were thick on their own, but the added girth and texture of the glove added to the sensations.

With precise movements, Boba pumped his finger in and out of you slowly, and he savored every little reaction from you. Moans flowed freely as you rocked your hips in time with his fingers, and you tightened your grip on him and fought to keep your eyes open. The roughness of the leather drove you wild and your mind swam in bliss.

“Another finger…” you begged as you moved your hands to the back of Boba’s neck, “Please.”

Boba loved it when you begged for him, and he couldn’t deny you whenever you did. With a groan of your name, he carefully pulled his finger out so that only the tip stayed inside you and added a second finger. Slowly, he guided your hips down so that two gloved fingers now filled you, and the cry you let out echoed in the empty throne room.

“Careful love… Someone could hear,” Boba warned.

“Let them,” you moaned as you bounced on his fingers, “Let them hear how good you make me feel.”

Boba’s cock twitched in his pants, “As much as I’d like that, you’re still mine… Only mine.”

“Only yours, Boba,” you rested your forehead against his as he adjusted his hand so that he could rub your clit with his thumb. You let out another loud cry as tears pricked the corners of your eyes and he knew you were close.

“You better cum then, love,” Boba groaned, “Before someone wants to watch.”

“Oh fuck… Boba…” the feeling of his gloved fingers inside you and against your clit was almost too much. And paired with the low voice of your lover, it only took a few more thrusts of his fingers to send you over the edge.

Boba’s lips covered yours to muffle the scream you let out as you came on his lap. Your eyes finally shut as you rode out your climax on his fingers, and he growled when he felt you gush into his hand. He kept up his steady rhythm until you were worn out and collapsed down against his chest.

Slowly, Boba pulled his fingers out of you, whispering soft praises for how good you were the whole time. He wrapped his arms around you and just held you close for several moments, just savoring the warmth of your body against his. He almost forgot about his own need until you bucked your hips against him and lifted yourself to meet his gaze.

You closed the gap between your faces in a quick, but heated kiss before you shimmied yourself onto the ground in between Boba’s parted knees, “Your turn,” you purred.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett imagine #boba fett #boba fett fic #boba fett fanfiction #the book of boba fett fic #the book of boba fett fanfic #boba fett fanfic #temuera morrison #the book of boba fett fanfiction

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acatalystrising · 2 years

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Welcome!

I write stories featuring the one and only Boba Fett - OG, TBOBF, and anything in-between.

This is an 18+ blog. Minors, do not interact!

Ratings:

GEN: General audiences, SFW content

MA: Mature audiences only

EX: Explicit, NSFW, and smut (18+)

I write f!reader inserts and occasionally feature ocs. Requests are currently open 💚🖤

Join my taglist here, or message me!

Pairing: TBOBF Boba Fett x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

*Trigger warnings listed in each chapter*

Series synopsis: You’d merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time, desperately trying to save your sick mother. But fate is a funny thing - after being rescued by a mysterious stranger, your life turns upside down, and nothing will ever be the same.

AO3 Link:

Series masterlist

The amazingly talented @love-like-poetry illustrated Boba and reader in a lovely tender moment, check out the piece here!

Pairing: ROTJ-era Boba Fett x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

*Trigger warnings listed in each chapter*

Series synopsis: Backstabbed and betrayed, you knew there was a bounty over your head - but when you’re captured by the infamous Boba Fett, it becomes abundantly clear that your fate is as mysterious as your captor.

AO3 Link:

Series Masterlist

Pairing: ESB-era Boba Fett x OC (Kaia Tarkin)

Rating: Explicit 18+

*Trigger warnings listed in each chapter*

Series synopsis: Boba Fett always gets the job done - no matter what. But when he is tasked to assassinate an Imperial quarry, his life is turned upside down. His target has a secret…one that will change his life forever, drawing him closer to his father than ever before.

Series masterlist

Pairing: TBOBF Boba Fett x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

*Trigger warnings listed in each chapter*

Series Synopsis: As a veterinarian in Mos Espa, you tried to live a quiet life. But when the new Daimyo Boba Fett takes a liking to you, you are swept up into a world of passion, intrigue, and a love grand enough to rattle the stars.

Series masterlist

Pairing: TBOBF Boba Fett x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

*Trigger warnings listed in each chapter*

Series Synopsis: A collection of one shots and short stories featuring our favorite green tin can man. These vary from OG Trilogy Boba to TBOBF!

Series masterlist

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stormkobra-5 · 2 years

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Poe Dameron

[Main Masterlist]

The House of Fett: You're Y/N Janghis Fett, the only daughter of the infamous bounty hunter himself. When you were eight years old, you discovered quite by accident that you were Force-sensitive, and so your father Boba sought out the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, who would, for the next eight years of your life, be your mentor in the ways of the Force-- but you are no Jedi. You are a Mandalorian, even if you do happen to wield lightsabers. However, when the Sith Lord Kylo Ren-- whom you once knew as Ben-- begins to seek out your old mentor for terrible purposes, you're met with the familiar face of Poe Dameron, who is requesting your aid, and you agree to help him only once. But when Luke is not where you think, sending you and Poe on a galaxy-wide hunt for your elusive mentor, you're forced to work with him even longer than you had originally planned. This complicates things greatly, because you've been helplessly in love with him since the day you met him, and unrequited love is a painful thing indeed.

[Series Masterlist]

---

Unexpected: In which you and your bumbling clique of stormtroopers suddenly find yourselves under the command of Captain Poe Dameron, recently turned to the cause of the First Order... or is he?

|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 ||

---

The Heir of Djarin (Poe Dameron x Mandalorian!OC): Din Djarin has spent nearly a decade in retirement on the uncharted moon of Yëa in order to hide Grogu from the First Order, but he’s in his late fifties and is fearing the day when the little guy is left on his own. Never did he expect a girl to drop out of the sky at such a perfect moment...

|| Moodboard || Sneak Peek || Episode 1 || Episode 2 || Episode 3 || Episode 4 || Episode 5 || Episode 6 || Episode 7 || Episode 8 || Epilogue ||

**Boxing Badass (Poe Dameron x fem!reader)

Role Reversal (Poe Dameron x gn!reader)

Birthday Wishes (Poe Dameron x gn!reader)

*Embarrassment (Poe Dameron x gn!reader)

**Wild (Poe Dameron x fem!reader)

**Falling Slowly (Poe Dameron x fem!reader) (Teaser)

Headcanons:

1 2 3 4 5 6

Blurbs:

1 2

Spookable September 2022: 1 2 3

Star Wars/Top Gun AU Messy Moodboard

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deejadabbles · 1 year

Text

Songs in the Kitchen (Bad Batch fluff)

Summary: You're appalled when you find out about your new team's lack of nutrition and...well, what fun is cooking without a little dancing? Hunter x GN Reader and (platonic) Omega and Reader. No warnings, just cute domestic fluff.

A.N: Got this idea while making dinner last night and listening to Temuera Morrison's cover of Can't Take My Eyes off You. So, you have Clone Daddy to thank for this XD Also!! I have a bone to pick with this song! All my life I thought the lyrics were "I would walk 500 miles" but it's not?? It's "roll"??? My whole life is a lie. Anyway, I hope you guys like this, reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

"If they ever upgrade this ship, you'll help me convince them to invest in an actual kitchen, right?"

For possibly the fifth time you had rammed your foot into Gonky as he, you, and Omega shuffled around the pitiful table that the soldiers insisted was 'fine enough' for food provisions.

Omega chuckled as she climbed onto said droid to give you some more room. "You got it! I think cooking will be really fun in a real kitchen!"

You smiled down at her, the light in her eyes instantly alleviating any annoyance your stubbed foot may have caused you. You still couldn't believe that you only just discovered last week that Omega, nor any of her clone siblings, had ever learned the basics of cooking. Wrecker insisted that shooting wildlife and spit-roasting them counted...you did not. There was a difference between survival hunting and actual cooking!

In fact, the batch had been quite unphased when you observed the fact that they only ever seemed to eat ration bars and whatever slop they got from local cantinas. That caused a whole uproar on your part, scolding all of them for not caring more about their health. Yes, eating ration bars during the war was...unfortunate, but a harsh necessity. Eating them while away on whatever job they took was...acceptable, you supposed. But when they spent days on a reasonable planet with plenty of resources?! You couldn't believe they thought it was rational to still only eat those dry, tasteless bricks!

So now, here you were carving out the tiniest space available on the ship in an effort to cook your friends a somewhat decent home-cooked meal. Omega, always the bright-eyed wonderer, was eager to help while her brothers were in town for supplies.

Right now 'helping' was mostly just learning, since there honestly wasn't much room for her to do much. But you appreciated the company.

You rummaged through a box of things Tech had gathered for you; things he said were 'adequate cooking substitutes' in lieu of actual utensils, searching for a pear knife. You managed to dig up a serrated vibro dagger....alright, good enough.

While you chopped away at a strange local fruit, and Omega looked on with rapt interest, you couldn't help but smile. Despite the odd circumstances, the whole setting was quite domestic, and you thought of how happy it made you, that Omega was getting her own version of such an experience. Omega, who, like her brothers, had never had parents to dote on them and teach them, to have simple, warm moments like this with.

You hadn't noticed that you were humming until your hips started moving to the melody in your head. It was such an old song, but one that always made you feel so, whimsical, perhaps?

After scooping the first fruit into the bowl you moved on to the next item, one that Hunter had mentioned trying in the market the other day.

Hunter.

The thought of him made some heat fill your cheeks. You wondered- or rather, hoped, that he would like the meal you were making. The night after you had made such a fuss over their eating, Hunter had mentioned something to you, a far-off look in his eye like usual, as if he had a million things on his mind and that was just the one floating to the surface.

"Meal times weren't exactly a good time for us," he'd mused, not even looking at you, "even during downtime on Kamino, it was just another reminder that we didn't belong, even among clones."

That confession, along with an off-handed comment Omega had once made about no one but her sitting with them in the mess hall made your heartache.

Well, this will just be your chance to make mealtime a good memory for them!

Even more determination swelled in your chest as you moved about the small space, you'd have each of them smiling over your food if it killed you!

In fact, with each in mind, you started portioning off Hunter's plate when it came time to add the seasoning. Couldn't have his enhanced senses going mad with too much spice.

That old melody came floating back to you again, as you thought of the handsome sergeant.

"Pardon the way that I stare There's nothin' else to compare The sight of you leaves me weak There are no words left to speak"

The lyrics came easily as you worked, they were words of something pure, innocent; a rarity in this galaxy. A silly little dance even weaved its way into your movements.

"But if you feel like I feel Please let me know that it's real You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you"

"What are you doing?"

Omega's sudden question snapped you out of your daze- just in time to ram your foot into Gonky again.

After shaking the limb out with a curse you looked up at the child with a brow raised, "Uh?"

"What was that? That strange talking?"

You tilted your head, "Um... you mean my singing?" Come on, you knew you weren't a concert vocalist or anything, but did she really think you were that bad?

Omega's eyes went wide with excitement, "Oh! That's what singing is?"

"You've never heard singing before?!"

Unabashed, the girl just shook her head, "No, I mean, I've heard music before. Every once in a while Nala Se would play some Kaminoian music while she worked, but it was just sounds, no voices."

You stood there stunned for a moment, unable to think of anything to reply with. Just what else had this poor girl been deprived of in her childhood? Now that you thought about it, you'd never heard the boys play any music either. Maker, you hoped they had at least heard singing before.

"Omega," you started after a moment, "would you like to hear some of my music collection while we cook?"

You honestly had not thought it possible for her eyes to sparkle more, but the little one managed it.

"So you think we got enough?" Wrecker groaned, shifting the crate on his shoulder.

Tech didn't look away from his data pad as he answered, "We acquired everything on the list we were given, I can't fathom there would be any reason for complaint. Even with our friend's sudden, irrational concern for our eating habits."

"Don't mock it like that," Echo chimed in, "I think the change in pace is nice. You can't tell me you actually like those ration bars day in and day out."

"I fail to see how 'like' is of any consequence," was all Tech huffed in response.

Hunter, who was walking ahead of them all, let out a sigh. He wanted to tell them to pick up the pace, but bit back the urge. You had insisted that you could scrape together the first meal with what you had on the ship already, but, if their haul from the market could make your task easier, he wanted to get it to you sooner rather than later.

All of this was just so...sweet of you to begin with. Hunter never wanted to complain about anything regarding their life style, not during the war, not now, it was what it was, and he accepted that. You could have done the same, but instead, you went out of your way to improve things.

Hell, you could have just balked at their lifestyle, and made your own, separate from them, made your own food to eat in your own part of the ship. Instead, you had decided to include them all in your efforts, even putting up with their grumbles and gripes with that cute, bossy attitude you got when you were determined.

Hunter found the whole thing incredibly endearing.

Not to mention your inclusion of Omega. You were giving the little one an experience, a memory that she would carry with her always. The sergeant felt his lips curl up at the thought. You were a good companion for Omega...you were a good companion for all of them.

Unfortunately, his happy little musings were brought to a screeching halt as his hearing picked up on something. His enhanced senses did that a lot, noticing things before his brain could really register them. They were nearing the ship and, had the voices sounded distressed, he would have been on high alert. Instead, they sounded...was that, singing?

"When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you When I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you!"

The sound was almost foreign to Hunter's ears, your's and Omega's voices sounded quite different, but it was definitely your vocals crooning over what he now realized was music.

"What is that sound?" Tech asked behind him. They had gotten close enough now that even his brothers could hear it. Hunter could just imagine the shrugs and confused looks they were giving each other as he opened the door at the top of the loading ramp.

"And I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who rolls a thousand miles To fall down at your door"

In all the years he'd been aboard the Marauder with his team, he'd never seen something quite like this. Your music blared through the ship's speakers while you and Omega danced in the small space he'd cleared for your make-shift kitchen.

"When I'm working, yes I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you!"

You threw something into the sizzling pan atop the would-be hotplate Echo had improvised for you, before leaning down and taking Omega's hands in a silly little jig of a dance.

"And when the money, comes in for the work I do I'll pass almost every penny on to you"

"Hey hey!" Wrecker cheered, dropping the crate in the doorway, "A dance party!" and just like that he joined the happy fray.

Your eyes lit up upon seeing them, and if he'd thought you would stop, he was wrong.

"When I come home(When I come home), well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you!"

Your dance turned into some jabbing motions, aimed at them to go along with the apt lyrics. Hunter was glad you didn't stop, with the delighted look on your face and the squeal of delight from Omega as Wrecker lifted her atop his shoulders, his soft smile was back tenfold.

"Well," Tech began, the smallest traces of amusement in his voice, "things are certainly lively with them around."

Lively indeed, because when the song's chorus picked up again, no one was safe from the infectious, joyous mood. Wrecker lunged forward, leaving Omega to grab hold of both Tech and Echo and drag them to the proverbial dance floor.

In turn, Hunter felt a warm hand grab his, and you pulled him into a bouncing dance that would have been right at home around a bonfire.

His face felt a little hot despite himself, but he looked down at you, a fondness in his eye he didn't even know he was capable of as you sang along with the song.

"When I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the one who's lonely without you"

Hunter couldn't help himself, he tuned out the actual song, focusing wholly on your voice as it wrapped around the words. And, for just a little while, Hunter imagined that you were singing them to him and him alone.

"And when I'm dreaming, well I know I'm gonna dream I'm gonna Dream about the time when I'm with you"

Maybe someday you would sing for him, but for now, he was content with this.

"When I go out, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the one who goes along with you"

He took a chance, and pulled you in just a little closer as he tried to keep up with your silly dance.

"And when I come home, yes I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the one who comes back home with you"

Yeah, he was more than content with this, for now.

"I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you"

#bad batch #bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #star wars x reader #sw #hunter tbb x reader #sw tbb #deeja writes #oneshot #fluff

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prolix-yuy · 1 year

Note

HAPPY 500!

So I have a prompt for [Din x Reader] using the theme of "Identity Crisis" wherein the reader learns she's either related to a high ranking Imperial or maybe she was created by the Imps using clone technology and he comforts her?

My darling Kelly, what an excellent prompt! I've been in my Din feels a lot lately and when I heard you weren't feeling well I wanted to share this story sooner so you can curl up with it. I hope you enjoy where this went, it veered into an unexpected deep dive on family and legacy but I'm very happy with how it turned out. Thank you for the prompt, I hope you enjoy!

Legacy

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original F!Character (not named but with a physical description)

Summary: The discovery of your origin has you questioning what your future holds.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: T, allusions to sexual acts, heavy discussions of self-worth and personal identity. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: This story is written in reader format, but because the character is connected to Boba Fett and therefore Temuera Morrison, she is described with similar features to the Māori people. Gold stars go to anyone who catches the reference to another Star Wars show I've sprinkled in!

The hum of the N1 matches the numbness in your limbs as silence sits heavy on your tongue. Din doesn’t look back, hasn’t since you climbed into the astromech compartment and waited for takeoff.

“You could be my sister.”

The words tumbled from Boba Fett’s mouth after the heat of battle, tugging his helmet off to reveal the scars of the Sarlacc pit, the nose that followed the shape of yours, twin eyes, brethren in skin. You even imagined his hair to be as thickly curled as your own, though he lacked it.

“I don’t know my mother, or my father. You could be right,” you’d tossed back, smile glinting in the twin suns. But later, when meals were shared and Boba found you trying to sneak back to the N1, he clarified.

“If you are who I think you are, then you have no mother.”

You narrowed your eyes, hand on your blaster as the scarred man in Mandalorian armor similar to your ally’s motioned for you to sit.

“Bold claim for a man who has laid eyes on me once,” you warned, ready to cut out his tongue for the insinuation, daimyo or not.

“I wish I could believe myself to be insolent,” Boba said, a little quieter, a little more regretful this time.

As he spoke your affront melted to amazement, then to anger, and finally to the grief. If you could find fault in his argument you would, and you tried.

“I’ve never been to Camino.”

“I have a chain code, a name, a life. Surely they would never let a…let me live like this.”

“How do you know?”

But Boba had answers, good ones too. You tried to hold his reasoning to the light for imperfections, but the deep pit of dread opening in your stomach gobbled up your strength. It lined up, questions you’d always had, memories you wished you could access. In mere minutes he offered you pieces of your life that made a more terrifying image than your worst nightmares.

Clone.

The word echoes in your mind as Din pilots the N1 away from Tatooine, the ache in your body like two massifs struggling to rip you in two.

The blank spot in your memory up until twelve years of age shouts at you, begging you to crack open its shiny black shell and reveal its secrets. You used to beat your first against it, scream at it to fall away. Now you want to bury it deeper, let no light shine upon it.

There are memories you access without thought - reflexes faster than your mind can keep up, skill with any blaster put in your hands, accuracy that scares you - that now drip with military training.

Your headaches - by-product of inhibitor chip removal, Boba explained - now explain how you’d gone undetected for so many years.

The shadowy memories of silhouettes in armor surrounding you. A scarred face with a wide smile. Relentless tapping on holopads. Hands, one flesh, one durasteel. A skull half in shadow. Target signs. A child’s laugh. They hold secrets but none this revelation has offered up.

The bubble of viscous fluid you coughed up when you crawled out of that tank, wondering why the bacta was green instead of blue.

“You must have been under for years.”

Din heard much of Boba’s explanations, finding you frozen across from his brother in arms. He was by your shoulder when the first sob came, your fist cramming it back down your throat. Grogu, tucked into the crook of his arm, made a concerned warble.

“Why would they do this?” was the first true question you had. Boba sighed with a world-weary breath.

“You were made to build an army. Why you deviated in this way I couldn’t tell you. I’ve heard whispers that my father’s genetic code was degrading. But why they would let you live…”

“And why were you allowed to become the man you are today?” you spat out, rising to leave, Din looming in shadow behind. He hadn’t said a word the entire time.

Boba smiled crookedly. “Legacy.”

It was best you never met your father.

Din pushes the N1 out of hyperspace, the lurch refocusing your eyes. A planet swims into view, dollops of white and blue and green that swirl together like a treasured marble.

“Thought you didn’t have another stop before mine,” you grumble into the communicator, rubbing your temples with the heels of your hands. The exhaustion is finally catching up with you. Just two days ago you were fresh off a mercenary job, flush with credits and ready to sink neck-deep into a bath, good food and better company. Then Din Djarin darkened your doorway, his plea for assistance falling on deaf ears until a familiar name buzzed through the vocoder.

Pike Syndicate.

It piqued your interest and released a new burn in your veins.

“What’s the payment?” you asked, tilted back in your seat in your rented room. One you planned to commit many acts of pleasure while occupying.

“The debt of two Mandalorians.”

Your eyebrow raised involuntarily.

“I didn’t know there were more of you willing to work with me.”

“I’m out of options.”

“And friends, I’ll wager.”

Din stepped further into your space.

“You wouldn’t call us friends?”

You mulled on the offer a few minutes longer.

“Can I cash in on your debt now?” you purred. Din’s helmet tilted to the side, hand coming down to palm at his belt buckle. The bucket was a nuisance, but he always made up with it in stamina and voracity.

You did like getting an advance.

“It’s important,” Din says, voice crackling with static as he veers the N1 into landing formation. You brace in the seat, gritting your teeth through the hurtling speed. The size of the ship makes you feel like you’re entering the atmosphere in a children’s toy, one moment away from crumpling under the weight of gravity.

Once the N1 breaks the atmospheric barrier it glides like a seabird over stretches of blue water, skimming low enough to ruffle a canopy of trees that lead to an open field. This is Din’s destination, powering down and opening both cockpits to allow you out. A hard-won smile graces your face when you watch his broad shoulders unfold, tugging himself out of the pilot’s seat that’s two sizes too small for him. You’re no more graceful, but an astromech compartment was never meant for a full person to squeeze into. Grogu had a much easier time, practically leaping like the frogs you’d seen him devour.

“Okay, we’re here,” you sigh, stretching your legs. The sun on your back does improve your disposition marginally, fresh air reviving your lungs. “Meet you in, what, a few hours?” you ask, surveying the plain for something to occupy your time. Anything to remove the pounding drum of clone clone clone from your brain.

“I need you to come with me,” he says before striding into the treeline, slow enough for you to overcome your confusion but quick enough to make you keep a steady pace. Grogu’s ears bounce playfully over his shoulder, black marble eyes blinking back at you.

“What’s this about, Din?” you ask, blood pumping in your ears as annoyance scars your face. “I’m not in the mood for an add-on job.”

“Not a job,” Din answers, not breaking stride.

Rolling your eyes you follow, trying to hold on to the annoyance and anger that was fast making a home in your spine, but it’s melting away with the gentle breeze on your face, the sweetness of the air, the softness of the ground beneath your feet. By the time brighter light bursts ahead your mood shifts to a pensive melancholy you meant to save for behind closed doors. Din doesn’t need to be a part of that.

A few more steps and you’re in a different field, a breathtaking one resplendent with buttery yellow flowers surrounding a tree with sprawling branches supporting a thick head of leaves. The light that filters through dapples the ground with ever-changing patterns. Grogu lets out an excited squeak, fussing to be put down. Wordlessly Din moves towards the tree, picking his way carefully through the flowers. You follow his footsteps, a nameless emotion growing in your throat. The flowers brush against your calves, identical sunny faces turning to watch your journey.

By the time you get there Din is sitting beneath the tree, the trunk steadying his back. The helmet is as unreadable as ever but his body language is anything but. It’s an invitation to rest beside him, to speak on the events of the day. Grogu ignores the directive, instead toddling out to investigate the blooms. His head barely clears them, the tips of his ears flagging his path. Fighting against your instinct to run, to not show anything that could be used against you, you sit.

The field from the center is even more magical, a golden sea of rippling petals surrounding you. The wind blows striations of color into the buttery landscape, leafy greens and earth browns. Slowly, your heart returns to your chest. Your hands unclench, your shoulders ease down. When you finally feel a semblance of peace you speak.

“Is this your way of comforting me?” you ask, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the heaviness in the air.

“No,” Din rumbles, shifting beside you. A smirk curves your cheek until warm fingers circle your wrist. Your eyes lock on Din’s hands - bare - taking one into both of his. They dwarf you, heavy fingered and worn. He’s never touched you like this before.

“What are you mourning right now?” he asks, thumb circling your pulse in a soothing pattern.

He’s being soft to you because he thinks you're fragile, the nasty voice lashes out, but is quickly replaced by wonder.

He’s being soft because he cares.

“I looked for them, for a long time. Wanted to know what my mother smelled like, how she smiled. Wanted to see what parts were hers and which were my fathers. I hoped they wouldn’t turn me away, or tell me something terrible about why they abandoned me.” You take in a shuddering breath. “It was more a dream than I thought.”

Din nods, stroking your palm in long soothing paths. It keeps you tethered.

“The loss of the family you never had?”

Chewing on your cheek, you shake your head.

“It was always a possibility they could be gone forever, that I might never learn more.” You let Din watch your face, not trying to school it for the proper emotions. You didn’t even know which ones should come out now.

“All this time I wanted to know why I couldn’t remember. My body knows what I am, but to have nothing come through…”

A skull in darkness. No, maybe a tattoo.

“And now I do. And it’s…so much worse.”

Din cocks his head.

“Worse than anything you thought before?”

You snort, the steel starting to return to your bones.

“A clone, Din. Made to serve the Empire. I thought what I was forgetting was love, and loss. Instead I was forgetting being a slave.” Tears brim now, smearing the landscape into an abstract mess. “I wanted to know what I was before, and now I’m terrified. Was I in the GAR? Did I…” You trail off, the implications too great.

“Whatever you were, you’re here now, and you have the time, and the ability, to change,” Din says, and it might be the longest sentence you’ve ever heard from him. It comes close to making you feel better.

“I can’t change this,” you rebut, pinching skin between your fingernails. “I can’t change that I am exactly like them, down to my chemical makeup. A karked-up clone, but one still.”

Din releases your hands and leans over, reaching for something behind him. When his hands return there’s a yellow blossom pinched between his fingers. He twirls it briefly.

“It looks exactly the same,” he muses, tossing his head to the field surrounding you. “But I could never tell you how old it is, or how it grew. If it got enough water, or sunlight. That makes it unique. That makes it beautiful.” Din drops the flower into your palm, the kiss of the petals featherlight. You try to see it, the reassurance he’s giving you, but it’s too small a gesture.

“It still shares everything with the rest,” you say. “It’s still a part of the whole.”

“There are things that can be shared that are greater than blood.” The helmet tips, hands coming together to worry at his oft-hidden skin.

Silence reigns again, your head thumping back against the smooth bark. Closing your eyes, you study the pattern of your heartbeat, steady and true in your chest. If they cut you open and placed your heart beside another of your genetic brothers, would they be able to tell the difference? Even with what you know it is capable of?

A click and a hiss echo next to you. Then a voice you’ve never heard. Not like this.

“Look at me.”

You peel your eyes open, the sight shocking you into a crouch. Before you is still the Mandalorian, armor and strength and valor. But the helmet is nestled in the moss, a man’s face revealed. Din Djarin, who you’ve only known by name for a short time, stares back.

You’d fantasized on what the Mandalorian looked like under the ever-present helmet, but to know now is to confirm and supersede all your expectations. Brown tousled hair, matted in places where the helmet pressed the curls flush. A dusting of scruff along his jaw and upper lip, flecks of caramel and silver. Full lips curved in a nervous grimace. Heavy brows constantly twitching against the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

And Maker, his eyes. Deep brown and so expressive you realize he couldn’t possibly lie to you without the helmet. They dart to yours before dropping down, so unused to eye contact he can’t hold it long.

“Din…” you whisper, the forest fading to ochre around you. He quirks a smile.

“That’s me,” he says with a breathless chuckle. You shuffle closer, observing the uncertainty painting his face.

“Din, your Creed…” you ask, but his hands return to yours. Sitting hip to hip and face to face for the first time, he’s more beautiful than you have the right to see.

“I broke it when I showed my face to Grogu. I am Mandalorian no more,” he says, sadness now mixing in his eyes. “But I still wear it to be close to my brothers, to feel part of the culture that raised me. I am seen as one of many…” The tears are threatening to spill now, Din’s eyes turning sympathetic as he cups your cheek. “...but underneath I am Din Djarin. I will always be that boy, this man. And what I share with my brothers is nothing compared to what I can choose to share.”

“Din, I’m not…”

He shushes you with a press of those powerful fingers.

“This isn’t about worthiness or what you deserve. This is about free will, and choice. I choose to share my face with you. I need nothing in return. This is my choice. I choose to be Din Djarin with you.” He studies your face a moment longer, thumb interrupting the track of a tear. “What do you choose to be?”

The answer is so simple that saying it aloud is like writing it in stone.

“I choose to be me. No matter what came before. I’m me, for the rest of my days.”

Din nods and smiles, the motion so familiar but so different seeing how he looks at you. It makes you want to give him something in return.

“I’d like to kiss you, Din.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his messy hair, mouth falling open into an O that pulls a smile back on your face. Sitting up on your knees, you take Din’s head into your hands. He trembles at the contact, your fingers slipping into his sweat-damp hair.

“I’ve never…” he stutters, which you soothe with a scratch of your nails on the nape of his neck.

“I won’t take your first kiss from you,” you tease, “Save that for someone you love.”

As you lean closer he breathes out, “There are many kinds of love.”

“When did you get so wise, Din Djarin?”

He lets out a puff of air before you press your lips to his forehead, inhaling musk and metal and something earthy before you pull back. His eyes are closed, lips parted, and before you can move too far he cradles your head and pulls your foreheads together. You stay like that for a handful of breaths, the monikers and duties of your lives washing away.

“Can we stay a while longer?” you ask, your noses bumping together. His is larger than you thought, broken along the bridge at least once, and wrinkles when he smiles.

“As long as you like,” he says, letting you settle back. A stronger breeze ruffles your clothing as you turn to see Grogu stretching his little green claws out, a tiny magician to the audience of flowers. The wind whips around the tree and suddenly the air is full of delicate yellow petals, swirling in a golden vortex. You laugh, a belly one this time, as Grogu’s gestures lift and twirl the petals in the air.

“Good job kid,” Din calls, Grogu’s ears lifting briefly before he turns and waddles back to his guardian satisfied. Din unclasps his cape, folding it into a neat bundle before settling it on his lap.

“Rest,” he says simply, and while you normally hate a directive your body hangs heavy with exhaustion. Grogu climbs Din’s thigh before he lifts him up to rest on his chest. With a baby yawn he drops his head to Din’s cowl and closes his eyes. Din looks at him for a moment before pressing a kiss to his wrinkled forehead. It warms your whole body.

That is the first kiss you’re meant to have, Din.

He pats the makeshift pillow in his lap and you lean down to rest your head. The petals are still lazily swirling in the air, drifting to the ground in handfuls. He waits for you to still before he lays his large hand on your head, softly stroking your hair and temple. Time slows in this bubble you’ve found yourself in, a world outside demanding answers and ready with tragedy at every corner. But for this brief moment you’ll let yourself rest in the care of someone who you share more with than blood, or oaths.

END

#din djarin x f!reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando fanfiction #mando x you #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x reader #lj's 500 follower celebration #prolix fics

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floral-force · 1 year

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ao3* | taglist | requests are open: please see my request guidelines

my blog is 18+ only. no minors allowed. i periodically check my followers for ageless blogs/minors, and i will block you/ask for your age. you are responsible for your media consumption.

support your creators! reblogging our work, leaving comments, and sending us messages goes a long way.

MASTERLIST (all characters)

writing for: din djarin, frankie morales, captain rex, tbb, simon riley

babygirl dollars trilogy & clint eastwood wallpapers

lay me down to sleep - simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader, mature, 1.8k+

breakfast in bed - simon "ghost" riley x f!reader, explicit, 7.2k

sleeping bounty, chapter 10 - din djarin x f!princess!reader, mature, 4.5k

healing - hunter (tbb) x f!reader, mature, 2k

code of honor, chapter 13 - din djarin x f!bounty hunter!reader, mature, 4.8k

sleeping bounty: 10/10 ch. completed - din djarin x f!princess!reader, mature, 25.9k+

the cure - din djarin x sick!reader, mature, 1.5k+

fire up the engines - din djarin x f!reader, explicit, 5.9k+

of brown eyes and desert skies (western au) - cowboy!din x f!reader, explicit, 10.7k+

american hospitality - simon "ghost" riley x f!reader, mature, 2.8k+

code of honor, chapter 13 (ch. 14 TBA)

“support creators” banner created by @saradika — check out her fics!

due to techbros using ao3 to train AI, my works on ao3 are restricted to registered users only. i encourage you to make an account if you prefer to read there.

unwhitewash the bad batch - info post on ways to write tbb true to temuera morrison

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stormyblue90 · 2 years

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Wardrobe Malfunction (FivesxReader)

Behold my FIRST EVER Character x Reader fic. Inspired by THIS image of Temuera Morrison!

Summary: Whilst busy in the shower, your husband Fives comes home to your home on Naboo after a relief mission, only to discover a specific garment of yours tossed to the floor. Suddenly he gets a VERY goofy idea in his head...

No warnings, just humor and Fives being a goofball. Also happy AU where Fives succeeds in revealing Palpatine’s plan and Palps dies. No pronouns are specified for the reader, only that they wear a bra.

The setting sun of Naboo reflected over the surface of the lake your country home presided over. The warm summer air was beginning to cool with a gentle breeze, the moons rising over the horizon, and the first evening stars began to shine. It was a picture of serenity and beauty.

You took a deep breath of the evening air, stretching your tired muscles. You had been working on your backyard garden for most of the day. Pruning the shrubs and flowers that were quickly becoming overgrown, harvesting a few of the herbs you planted for cooking, and making sure no pests were devouring your fruits and vegetables that still needed time to ripen.

You were sweaty, covered in dirt, and you could hear your back popping as you stretched. You were ready for a nice, long, hot shower. Hopefully by the end of it your husband, Fives, would be returning from the off world mission he was on.

It had been two years since the end of the war, since the discovery of wicked plot by the former Supreme Chancellor, who turned out to be a Sith Lord. It was the very man you now called your spouse who uncovered it, and was now considered a hero by his brothers, the Jedi, and you.

Now that the war was over, the clone army was finally granted true freedom and full rights across the galaxy. Very few elected to stay and live on Coruscant, they spent too long on the metal planet and wanted to set down roots on other planets, beginning a new life. Many clones chose to leave behind the life of a soldier, taking care of their younger brothers, starting families of their own, or just roaming the galaxy experiencing the simple pleasures of life they were denied for so long.

Captain Rex, and handful of others of the 501st, Fives included, decided to settle on the planet Naboo after their general, Anakin Skywalker chose to settle there with his wife, Padme Amidala, in order to raise their newborn twins. The two of them often told the men of the beauty of the planet, and the clones felt it was a nice place to start anew.

However Fives, and several of his closest brothers in the 501st chose to continue to fighting for the good of others, but now they had a true home to return to. Although it was much less fighting, and much more relief missions for worlds ravaged by the war. Many involved bringing in much needed supplies and resources to help rebuild, or escorting refugees and freed slaves to safer planets to begin anew. There was also the occasional mission to bring in war criminals for justice. Fives enjoyed those the most, they were more exciting. It was actually one such mission that led to the discovery of the brother and batch mate he thought perished long ago, Echo.

Earlier in the day Fives had commed you, letting you know the refugees they were escorting arrived safely, and he and the boys would be returning by the end of a rotation. It was nice to know he'd be back so soon, after having been gone the last few days. Perhaps after your shower you could cook a nice dinner for you both, using the herbs you just harvested.

You dug around in your clothing dresser, retrieving a set of silk pajamas to change into. In doing so you pulled out a few other garments, tossing them to the floor. You didn't care about tidying up at the moment. All you wanted was to be engulfed in a hot shower, the scent of soap filling your nostrils. You grabbed a towel and your pajamas, walking into the refresher room, eager to scrub away the day's dirt and grime.

As soon as the ship touched down on Naboo, Fives was impatient to return home, to you, his riduur. Echo had to hold him back from sprinting down the ship's ramp and help with the usual end of mission reports and routine. By the time everything was finished, Fives hopped on a speeder and headed home to the lakeside house the pair of you lived in.

After arriving and entering your home, Fives called out to you as he began to remove his armor. Once setting foot in your bedroom, did he hear the shower and realized you were in there. Quickly he started to strip off the black body glove he wore, thinking of joining you in the shower. Wouldn't that be a nice surprise? However as soon the top portion, and shoes had come off, something of yours on the floor caught his foot.

Fives nearly stumbled as one of your bras you tossed to the floor tangled up his foot. He picked it up, and a sudden thought appeared in his head, completely erasing the idea of joining you in the shower. Fives began to giggle to himself, taking the opportunity for a bit of fun while he could.

Finally clean and refreshed, clothed in soft silk, you felt so much better. However as you began to towel dry your hair, you heard familiar giggling outside the door. You knew that laugh anywhere. Fives had come home at last!

What is he up to giggling like that? You thought.

Whenever Fives giggled like that he was up to no good. What was he planning? Slowly you opened the door, cautious, expecting some sort of prank. What you saw as you peeked outside was NOT what you expected, and you had to cover your mouth and nose to stifle your laughter.

Before you stood Fives, shirtless in front of the bedroom mirror, wearing one of your bras! He stood there, unable to clip the back, the garment just hanging off his shoulders, posing and making goofy faces in the mirror. You tried your best not to laugh at the fact it was clearly NOT his cup size. You wanted to see how long this would last until he noticed, so silently your crept out of the fresher. Thankfully you couldn't be seen in the mirror.

Fives continued to pose in from the mirror, wearing your bra. After a moment he then began to sway and dance, parodying and exaggerating the look of an attractive woman. He even began to repeat cheesy lines he'd heard in holovids, making his voice higher and more "feminine" However as he turned in flourishing twirl he saw you standing there and let out a ridiculous scream.

Fives' surprised yelp sent you over the edge, and you fell to your knees howling with laughter, and holding your stomach.

"Uh...oh Uhm...H-how long...Have you uh-" Fives stuttered, overcome with embarrassment as his face turned red, bra still hanging across his chest.

"L-LO-LOOOOHAHAHAHA LONG ENOUHAHAHAHA 'NUFF!!!" You replied through bouts of laughter.

Tears of laughter filled your eyes, and as you tried to stand you could only look at Fives, who still wore the bra, and be sent into another fit of laughter.

"C-Cyar'ika...Uhm.... Are-are you ok?" Fives asked as he saw your face turn red, and you gasping for air between giggles.

"I-I I'm...f-fine... hehe I'm fine!" You managed to say as your fits of laughter began to die down, and Fives crouched beside you.

"I uh...hehe don't think that's your size Fives." You said, pointing at the bra.

Fives blushed deeper, quickly taking off the offending garment and tossing it on the floor.

"I uh...I was just uuuhh... Well it was THERE, and you were in the shower... And I was waiting for you and uh-" Fives fruitlessly tried to explain.

"It's ok." You replied. "You gave me a good laugh and surprise. I thought you were planning some sort of prank when I heard your giggling."

"Oh...uh... Well...I WAS going to join you in the shower but uh..."

You rolled your eyes, smiling fondly at your husband's antics. You always loved how Fives could make you laugh. It's true what they say about a good sense of humor, and how attractive a trait it is.

"How about you get cleaned up and changed, and we'll make dinner together. I gathered some of those herbs and spices I taught you to plant." You suggested.

"Really? I DIDN'T kill them? I mean, I know herbs are easy to care for but-"

You quickly kissed him on the lips, interrupting his rambling. "Yes, you did just fine planting them. There's plenty left too."

Fives blinked, surprised by your sudden, but pleasant interruption, then returned the kiss, although a little deeper. You smiled into the kiss before the two of you pulled away.

"Alright, let's get cooking. Sure you must be starving for something other than rations." you said.

"Oh I'm hungry for a lot more than that Meshl'a." Fives replied suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

This sent you both into a fit of giggles as you headed into the kitchen to begin cooking dinner and he changed into more comfortable clothes. Fives could be a goofball at times, but he was YOUR goofball and you loved him just as he loved you.

#Writings of mine #The Clone Wars #Star Wars #ARC Trooper Fives #Fives x Reader #Fives/Reader #GN Reader mostly #reader has breasts and wears a bra but that's it...#I didn't think I'd ever actually write one of these but...here we are!

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airyairyaucontraire · 9 months

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Catching up on Ahsoka because it looks like there's going to be a good episode next time dealing with Ahsoka and Anakin - and also with Ahsoka being played as a padawan by Ariana Greenblatt, who I liked in the Barbie movie (she's having a big year!), and who I might enjoy more than Rosario Dawson who is just... dull. Her Ahsoka is just kind of like a gap in the middle of a show that's named after her, and it's worse in a way than how Boba was left out of the show named after him - well no, it was worse in the sense of being upsetting to watch when Boba was left out of his own show because Temuera Morrison is charismatic as and I really enjoy watching him play Boba Fett, but it's worse in terms of quality to have Ahsoka Tano be dull. And if we're talking about shows about the wilderness years of a Jedi who had a close relationship with Anakin Skywalker, the Kenobi show was amazing and yes obviously it's unfair to make comparisons with Ewan McGregor who is Ewan McGregor, but it goes to show something.

Sabine's pretty good and I really like Huyang! Hera, I could always sort of take or leave Hera, I never minded her. I do appreciate the fact that there are so many important female characters in this show. Teva is here again for no particular reason, he's just the one guy with an X-wing (other than, you know, Luke Skywalker) who we're expected to recognise I guess.

It was strange when at one point Sabine called Huyang a daft droid. Daft. Daft does not feel like a Sabine word. Although I'm sure she would like Daft Punk.

I also don't understand why Kanan and Hera's little boy has green hair. I mean I know that was a design choice made back in Rebels and they're just following it, but it always struck me as odd. He looks just ike a standard human child apart from his hair colour. His mother doesn't have hair for there to be a green gene attached to. His skin isn't green like hers. His father had brown hair. You know? I suppose it makes about as much sense as Chibiusa's hair being pink.

Also, I remember seeing two human-Twilek children back in early The Clone Wars ("The Deserter") and they had headtails, no visible hair and two-coloured skin, so...

#I was just looking them up and strangely although they are supposed to be human-Twilek they're *not* supposed to be #the biological children of the deserter clone trooper they call their dad #like their mother already had them with some unknown human dude before marrying him?#sucks to not get the Fett sexy badass gene sorry for your DNA kids

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waterlily707 · 2 years

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Current Issue of Clonecest and fetishization within the fandom.

Please read as this pertains to the moth au

I will address the issues being discussed currently and hopefully spread some awareness to this problem.

Link to a post by @Nibuel and @Clonehub that has gone into detail about the issue with the fandom currently when it comes to romanticising the clones.

#UnwhitewashTBB (tumblr.com)

Thanks to these creators so much for speaking more clearly about this problem and helping me self-reflect when it comes to my art in general and how I've gone about depicting these characters.

Fetishization problem:

First of all, I'd like to apologize because I'm not free of the fetishization problem either, it hasn't become a huge problem on my page, but I've talked about how I wanted to write clone x reader fics without thinking. Even in my art and past art I've drawn these characters in the dreaded uwu context also without thinking more deeply about how this impacts others.

The problem within the fandom at the moment that I've seen people coming forward about is the fact that people are seeing these characters within their own head cannons and idealism instead of what they really are, and I am sorry that I've fed into some of those ideals or depictions explicitly before.

(I'm not kanaka maoli, I'm a haole, but I have a deep respect and love to the ones who raised me and will Ho'omau the traditions, stories and morals taught to me by those from back home.)

I will do better, and I will be better, I come from Hawai'i and there's an explicit fetishization problem with the Kanaka Maoli and other residents there, Hawai'i is romanticised rather than respected. It makes me feel sick to think that in a way I began doing the same thing I criticised other people of doing to my neighbors, my friends, family, teachers, and others I knew who I grew up with back home just in a different yet still harmful way that in turn hurts the Maori.

If you didn't know the clones are Maori and are based on actor Temuera Morrison who hails from Aotearoa (New Zealand).

How does this tie into the future, and the moth au:

For one I need you all to understand that I made the moth au as an appreciation of these characters but because I did that I need you guys to understand that in certain areas of the Au I have slipped up and fed into some of these issues

(Thankfully not straight up racist stereo types but still some issues that can be demoralizing to others)

I really need to reflect and fix what needs fixing when I continue this au. It really saddens me because it was also partially a reason why I made this au in the first place but I'm going to change that and work to making it better.

I'm genuinely sorry, and I will do my best to fix the damage I've caused in turn but please be aware that I'm not giving up on the au and if anything, this gives me a drive to improve upon and make it better than what I started with. I ask you all to do the same moving forward, all it takes is a little self-reflection.

Clonecest problem:

On the next point, I'm fine with drawing and writing these characters within relationships that are, adult, consensual, overall make sense within the cannon, and aren't clones x clones, for God's sake.

I've approached someone in the past with a level of compassion and understanding in letting them know that I didn't stand with clonecest and subsequently why I didn't stand with it and thankfully they understood instead of getting mad at me. Hopefully I wish that the person in question learns from this and recognizes their faults, I think we all hope for the benefit of the doubt that people can learn and change with time, but they need to put in the work not you.

I don't support Clonecest, rexsoka, anisoka, or any ships that has to do with any underage x older characters, or sibling pairings because it disgusts me and I've had the misfortune of seeing people hurt in life because of these scary realities.

You have no idea what you're playing with when you encourage these ships, you have no concept of the things people have been through because of incest, pedophilia, mental illness, and PTSD related to these issues. I have family and dear friends who had seen and experienced these horrors, and I will not stand for it. As my family, friends, and loved ones have stood strong against these abhorrent things I will too, and I will never change my mind about them no matter what you tell me. I'm sorry if I've hurt your feelings but go and watch some documentaries about these issues, video essays and real-life recounts of these events by people who provide the recourses for you to learn about them more.

PI and BI-POC people go through these horrors more often than white people, and by supporting ships like this you're hurting those who have survived these things, and those who stand within the PI community.

How does this affect the moth au:

Thankfully I have not taken part in any ships that pertain to the following I just listed out, but I have had some of my followers ask me if the ships will ever appear in the au and the answer continues to be no.

I genuinely hope that those who support those ships begin to do some seriously self-reflection and work on themselves as it will only continue to fester and become a problem within your real-life relationships not only with loved ones, but how you perceive strangers you hardly know.

Final thoughts:

You will never be the same person you were yesterday; you will continue to learn and grow from your experiences and from what other people teach you throughout your life, criticisms and all, but they have to be work that you put it, someone can't just come into your life and magically solve all of your issues, it's you who has to start the change and continue to do it.

I wish you all a good night, and again from the bottom of my heart if my actions, the media I've presented and the things I've talked about have hurt the BI-POC, PI, or any other indigenous folk I'm genuinely sorry, I will do better. Please forgive me.

9 notes · View notes

rexxdjarin · 1 year

Text

I posted 8,247 times in 2022

That's 8,247 more posts than 2021!

1,001 posts created (12%)

7,246 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@calkestiis

@wild-karrde

@rexxdjarin

@thefact0rygirl

@lady--kenobi i would die for all of you

I tagged 4,449 of my posts in 2022

Only 46% of my posts had no tags

#captain rex - 931 posts

#pedro pascal - 242 posts

#boba fett - 242 posts

#my sun moon and stars - 235 posts

#wip captains log - 202 posts

#captain rex x reader - 198 posts

#temuera morrison - 165 posts

#commander wolffe - 162 posts

#din djarin - 150 posts

#captain rex x you - 145 posts

exactly who is surprised

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i have no idea what i’m going to do and i don’t have enough money to run around spending it on things i shouldn’t have needed to repurchase

My Top Posts in 2022:

I am so fucking feral I think I need to be hospitalized

300 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

bro when I tell you this man has a grip on my very soul I am absolutely not kidding. the depths to which I love him are immeasurable. just look at him. isn’t he fucking s t u n n i n g

395 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

No Shame

Commander Wolffe x F!Reader One Shot

Summary: Based on the above song - You and Wolffe have been FWB for quite some time and although you want it to be something more, there's no way he would ever want that with someone like you. Right? Word Count: 7k Chapter Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ RATING, angst, FWB to lovers?, dom!Wolffe (is there any other kind lol?), p in v sex, fingering, light bdsm themes and spanking (if ya squint), self-esteem issues, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, very mild arguing Notes: this is loosely based on themes of this song (or rather what I imagine a happy ending to be like bc I refuse to write shit that ends sad haha)

[crossposted on ao3]

Commander Wolffe was always far better than any other partner you’ve ever had. He was so good. Too good for you. His interest in sleeping with you often scared you. Because you knew you loved him and sleeping with him was only making that affection deepen. But you were filled with self-doubt. Denying your own worth against quite literally the perfect man. You weren’t a carefully engineered genetically ideal human. You were just you. Average men didn’t even like you. His interest in you didn’t make sense. Someone as perfect as him could never love you. No matter how much you wished he could.

You filled your life with men you thought you deserved. Men who could never measure up to him. Men who couldn’t even call themselves men by comparison to him. You were inferior. You knew it. He’d be ashamed of you. Ashamed to be seen with you. The fact that he even wanted to sleep with you at all was just because you were easy and accessible. That’s what you told yourself. You wouldn’t bother wasting his time by asking him to do all the relationship stuff you wanted. He’d probably laugh at you.

You tried to cut it off before you hurt yourself. Before you loved him so much it would kill you to ever see him walk away in disgust. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Every time you swore it would be the last, you found yourself comming him, begging him to find you and fuck you like only he could. You felt pathetic needing someone, who didn’t think of you for even a second, so badly that it hurt. So you decided you’d look elsewhere for the relationship you wanted, even if they were far less than everything Wolffe was.

Tonight you walked through the doors of 79s with your date and saw him sitting at his booth with all his men, clutching his drink in one hand and staring up at the waitress with a warm smile, an actual fucking smile, on his face. Finally, something in you just snapped. He didn’t want you. He really didn’t. He could look at anyone, no, everyone else the way you wished he’d look at you.

Your date stood beside you, not even noticing you as you seethed in anger beside him. He was too busy eyeing several of the twi’lek waitresses to notice. If you actually cared about him, you’d be as angry at him as you were at Wolffe, who wasn’t even yours. He would never want to be yours. As if pulled your direction by gravity itself, Wolffe turned and looked directly at you.

The familiar darkness you knew all too well wiped whatever warm friendliness you’d just seen right off his face. His brow furrowed in anger and his eyes narrowed, looking you up and down with the disgust you knew he’d felt for you. You’d never brought dates here before, but in order to move past him you’d have to show him you didn’t need him anymore. Even though everything inside you was screaming that you did.

You stood by the bar watching Wolffe stand up like he was going to walk toward you, only for him to turn and enter one of the freshers in the back. You excused yourself from your date to use the fresher and followed into the one Wolffe had just entered. You pushed open the door to find him leaned up against the wall scowling at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate you coming to my bar parading around some other pathetic excuse for a lifeform you’re dating. It’s insulting.” He spat, his voice low and his brooding expression dangerous. He took up all the space in the entryway, his broad shoulders caging you in against the door you’d just locked behind you.

“Your bar? Since when do you own 79s? It’s Republic property.” You argued, trying your best to stand up to him without breaking down already. Looking at his perfect face was hard enough from across the bar, but it was even more painful just an arm’s length away.

“I am Republic property.” He scoffed sarcastically, stepping close enough to you to press his puffed up chest into yours. He slammed his hand on the door just beside your head and smirked at you. “You’re not going back out there to that lowlife. I won’t let you.” He muttered, the slightest hint of desperation littering his tone. But that was probably in your head.

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Wolffe. Haven’t you already taken enough from me?” You practically whimpered, turning your face from him as you felt tears well up. His face was only inches from yours and you could feel what felt like his glaringly angry stare burning a hole right through you.

“What? You’re the one that calls me. You’re the one begging me to come over. You’re the one pushing me away.” His voice was escalating and he stepped back, lowering and unclenching his fists, giving you space as you flinched at his every word. He was right. That’s exactly what you were doing. Keeping him away from you so that when he finally realized he could do better, that he deserved better, it wouldn’t devastate you so much.

And yet, as you crumbled against the fresher wall, you realized it didn’t matter. Knowing him at all had already devastated you anyways. He was too good for you. You didn’t deserve him. He should be fucking ashamed that he’d stooped low enough to be with you.

“Not enough.” You whispered, finally finding the courage within you to admit to him how you felt about this arrangement and yourself. You were never going to be enough for him. He might as well leave you here now. Save himself the humiliation.

“You’ve made that pretty fucking clear. It’s never enough. Nothing I do, nothing I am…is ever good enough for you.” His shoulders sagged and he looked at you pitifully, an expression the big, rough Commander had never shown you in all the time you’d known him.

He’s…got it all wrong. It’s backwards. How does he not realize that it’s you that isn’t good enough for him? That you could never let someone like him waste their time on you. He shouldn’t waste his time loving you. Even if all you ever wanted was to love him.

“Wolffe…no. It’s not you-” He stepped closer and leaned his face down to your ear. He lifted his gloved knuckle along your cheekbone softly, brushing your hair aside and kissing slowly up your neck. You let out a shaky sigh, swallowing your thoughts down as he awakened the same desperate yearning that he always did. Whenever you were in his presence. Whether he was directly in front of you or 30 clicks away. Whenever he was near you, you needed him like this.

“Who’s gonna touch you like me? Hmmm? Him?” He asked, running his hand down your arm and tracing his tongue along your jaw. He pulled back, smirking as you trembled with need you couldn’t deny yourself. He pushed you up against the wall gently, slotting his knee between your open thighs. He brushed against your heat and sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You let out a soft moan and he chuckled quietly. “No. He doesn’t know you like I do. Make you feel good like I do…Care…about you like I do.”

“Wolffe.” You sighed out resting your hands on his chest before he crashed his lips against yours. He slid his tongue in your mouth, overwhelming you and stealing every breath you needed to form words you wanted to say. He melted you. He always did. You drowned your sorrow in the flood of arousal that he sent rushing between your legs whenever he touched you.

He maneuvered his thigh against your clit, making you break the kiss to moan desperately. “That’s it, mesh’la. There’s that sound I love.” Warmth radiated from your core outwards, the feeling consuming you and making a thin sheen of sweat coat any of your exposed skin. You forgot your pain. You forgot your self-consciousness. Your inferiority. It was just him. Him and the pleasure he always brought you. Even if it was just a momentary comfort from him, you’d take it. You’d take whatever he gave you until the end of time.

“Wolffe…mmmf please. Feels s-so good.” You whimpered, resigning to the pleasure and burying the inevitable. Pretending he won’t take what he needs and walk out that door like he should. “More.” You gripped the armor on his chest for dear life and looked up at his handsome, stern face with the pathetic, lovesick adoration for him that he’d never return, but you couldn’t help showing. You rocked your hips against his codpiece and let your hands fumble with his to tear it off him to get the salacious contact you needed.

He shoved his gloved hands underneath your shirt, tearing the fabric off your head and onto the floor. “You look…fucking incredible. Much too good for anyone else to have. No one else deserves to touch your skin,” His hands gripped your breasts hard, kneading them and teasing your nipples to hardness.

His hand slid down your torso and tore down the skirt from around your hips, leaving you bare and exposed in front of him. He slid two of his thick, gloved fingers through the slick between your legs and grunted in amusement. You whined at the contact, jerking your head back against the door as he teased your clit with the heel of his palm. The dizzying pleasure buzzed through all your nerves, making your eyes slam shut.

Just as quickly as he started working your heat under his touch, he pulled away, lifting his coated digits to his lips. “No one else deserves to taste you,” He grabbed your face in his other hand, making you watch as he slid his fingers past his lips and dragged the taste of you across his tongue. He let out a strangled exhale, releasing the digits with a pop to settle them between your folds again. He slid his hand down to your neck and curled his fist around the smooth, unmarked skin. Slowly, the pressure of his fingertips increased, making you feel the race of your pulse as he sent your heartbeat skyrocketing.

The hunger in his brown eye was dangerous and alluring, making you crave the thorough fucking he was planning on giving you even more. He rested his forehead on yours, staring deep into your eyes as he plunged the same two fingers inside you. The delightfully sinful stretch at your entrance made your eyes roll back in your head as the pounding of your walls around him matched the thumping rhythm of your pulse. “No one else deserves to feel that pretty pussy strangle them but me. Saved this dripping little cunt for me, didn’t you, darlin’?” He growled, his hand on your neck massaging gently and loosening just enough to let you speak.

“Yes, Wolffe.” You moaned, gripping his forearm and hoping he could feel just how desperate you were to tell him how much you only ever wanted to belong to him. That every part of you was his. All he had to do was say so. The gnawing in the back of your mind always told you that day would never come. That physically using you like this was all you’d ever be any good for to him.

See the full post

494 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

talking about Rex banging the shit out of you in the 501st clone barracks in the discord and I am a mess

he’s covering your mouth to keep you quiet and whispering filthy praises in your ear about how good you are for being quiet enough to let all his men sleep.

and he’s all “you’re taking me this hard and still staying so quiet…because you’re a good girl for me. Always my good girl.”

he just needs the relief of you. he needs you. but you’re considerate when he gets too worked up to remember or care. so you’re biting down on his hand to hold back the screams you desperately want to release and the only thing anyone can hear, if they listen hard enough, are the sounds of his thighs slapping yours repeatedly and both your labored exhales in rapid huffs.

and well, if the occasional moan or whimper or cry actually does escape you, it’s brings a little satisfied smirk across his face because damn it if it doesn’t make him so proud to know his men will realize your his. you belong to the captain.

740 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A State of Mind

Daddy!Din Djarin x F!Reader

“I’m your Daddy.” - Pedro Pascal’s actual words.

He said it. I will not apologize for where my mind went with it.

Summary: Din Djarin has kinks that he doesn’t even know he has. He’s leaning into it though. The second the name falls from your mouth, he knows he's in trouble. Word Count: 9k Chapter Warnings: MINORS ABSOLUTELY DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS. 18+ RATING SO EXPLICIT I SHOULD BE SENT TO HELL FOR EVEN THINKING THIS. this is daddy kink filth and I’m not even sorry. soft dom!din djarin, p in v sex, fingering, creampies and cumplay, praise kinks, lil bit of violence Notes: this came from the darkest depths of my daddy kink loving soul and I- I’m sorry but I’m also not.

[post on ao3]

The second he stepped into the ship’s cockpit, I was on top of him, riding his lap, really grinding on him and driving him nuts. The Razor Crest was still in park, not even moving yet. I hadn’t given him time to even start the ship before I pounced on him. Normally, he’d scold me for this because he has a job to do first you know but he’d been gone far too long.

It had been almost three weeks since I’d seen him last and he was secretly just as eager as me to get a little indecent. The Kid had been sleeping for the entire day, which meant no distractions. Timing was everything.

The muffled sound of his harsh breathing through the vocoder in his helmet was enough to get me off. His hands roved along my lower back, gloves smoothing down the curve of my ass to grip hard and move me to his liking. He had absolutely no patience today. “Need you now. Right now.” He demanded. His beskar clad body clattered against the pilot’s seat as he plopped down into it.

I giggled eagerly, working with his hands to pull my bottoms down off my legs. “Stars, did ya miss me that much?” I joked, tearing down the cowl around his neck and burying my face in his overheated skin. I nibbled gently, tracing my tongue along the veins strained from holding his helmeted head up for days straight with no rest.

“I did. Fuck- I did.” He let out a harsh whisper as I sucked a deep bruise into the space where his neck joined his collar bone and rutted my hips along his codpiece. His excitement already straining behind his armor and jutting into the space between my waiting thighs. “I can’t fucking wait.”

His hands slid between us, removing the metal covering and tossing it to the floor with a clang. I loosened the closure of his bottoms and looked up into his helmet as I wrapped a hand around his painfully hard cock. “Then I won’t make you.” I muttered, feeling wet droplets of precum already dripping down the shaft. I slid a thumb over his slit and watched his chest stutter as he gasped for air at the sudden pressure.

Not one to be outdone, he trailed his hand around the curve of my hip, resting a palm on my hip bone and coaxing a thumb gently across my clit. My other hand gripped the pauldron on his shoulder and tightened as he guided more fingertips down into my wet heat. “So fucking wet, pretty girl. You were ready for me…” He laughed softly, the impressed smile nearly visible through the helmet.

I nodded, fumbling at his pants opened up at his waist to silently ask him to get them out of my way. I wanted to forgo any teasing or foreplay, I simply couldn’t take anymore. “Off. Please.” I asked, still sliding his thick cock through my gently twisting fist. He thrusted his hips up, tugging his pants just far enough down to reveal his center comfortably.

“Ready for me?” He checked, gripping onto my half clothed hips with one hand and brushing my hair from my eyes with the other.

“Yes please, Din, let me ride you.” I moaned, lining the head of his cock with my entrance and keeping eye contact with the dark center where his eyes should be. He nodded his helmet to signal his approval and I sank down on top of him.

And suddenly he was there. Right there. My senses are heightened, everywhere so completely touch sensitive, noticing every little sound emitting from him and the ship around us. The high is so intoxicatingly within reach. I tossed my head back to moan when I saw a flash of blue dart past the cockpits door frame.

Not a single thing in this entire ship is blue.

Not me, not him and not the Kid.

The Kid. Fuck.

I wondered if he noticed, but the way he was gut deep inside of me and still relentlessly pounding said he hadn't. The way he was slamming into me made the blood rush in my ears and the adrenaline pump a bold confidence from my fingertips to my toes.

The blue figure was just outside the kid’s quarters, hopelessly searching for a way to pry the locked door open. Probably judging, by the sound of it, that the ship’s owner was too preoccupied right now to notice.

His short blaster was still attached to his hip, dangling from the holster on the pants that were pooling under his thighs. He was lost within me, so thoroughly enjoying all he missed about me. I slid my hand down into the holster he could no longer feel and wrapped my fingers around the weapon’s handle. Gripping it in my still spent covered hands, I switched it off of stun and back into blast mode, resting a finger shaking from aroused anticipation on the trigger.

The blunt of his head careened into the base of my insides, a stunning groan leaving my lips as I felt myself toppling into a gravity shaking orgasm. I channeled the pleasure into focus, letting every muscle in my body relax and dropping my mouth open to emit a single sound.

“Daddy.”

I blissfully called out, gripping on his forearm possessively. I took in a final gasp as I tightened around him. He let out a harsh groan, reeling in response to a name I’d never called him before.

“Fuck.” He hissed, hips sputtering into me and threatening to throw off my aim. I bit down on the flesh of my bicep, using it to balance my shot. I waited, the waves of orgasm crashing through me over and over as I watched for the target to lean into view.

The back of a blue Rodian head slowly appeared, stepping back to reassess how this goddamn door might open. The bounty hunter turned to think and immediately locked eyes with my hooded, lust blown gaze. My walls collapsed around Din just as my finger squeezed the trigger.

BANG.

Red blaster fire streamed across the ship, light reflecting off the crest’s shiny metal walls. It was a perfect hit, burning a hole clear through the Rodian’s head right between the eyes. The figure toppled over onto the floor with a thunk.

See the full post

872 notes - Posted May 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Bro this is MESS #IM SO ANNOYIJG #YOU KNEW IT WOUKD ALL BE REX AND TEM THO #Spotify

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

do more modern! boba fett please 🥺 he's the loml, the coffee shop au is so cute 🤧✨ i'm thinking of a meet cute at a library? if ur willing to write it plss? 💕

AN | Library meet cute! Library meet cute! And uni!Boba!😌

Pairing | Boba x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1.5k

Warnings | None

Masterlist | Star Wars, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a quiet morning today, which gave you ample time to put away all the returns that had been piling up throughout the otherwise busy week. Not that you minded of course, you loved your part time job at the university library and all that it entailed, but sometimes it was a lot to handle basically on your own. Dropping the last stack of books onto your cart, you decided to push it towards the other end of the library and work your way back to the front desk.

Deciding to take advantage of being alone in the large building, you pulled out your phone and turned on some music, singing along quietly as you immersed yourself in the numbered organizing system the library utilized. You weren’t even sure how long you were zoned out and focused for until you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat loudly.

It caught you so off guard that you almost jumped out of your skin as you dropped the book you were holding. Before you could even move to pick it up, the man that had scared you had picked it and was holding it out to you.

“My apologies,” he grinned as you swallowed the lump in your throat before letting yourself meet his eyes. It was almost enough to render you speechless again, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“N-no,” you stammered as you took the book from him, trying to not to rudely stare at his handsome face, “it’s okay. I wasn’t…I zoned out. I shouldn’t have been listening to music anyway, it’s just so quiet when no one else is in here.”

“I quite liked your little concert,” he teased as you felt your entire face warm up, “I’m sorry to have interrupted.”

“Please,” you couldn’t help but giggle - actually giggle at him. Ugh. What was going on with your brain so suddenly? Maybe it was him and his dumb, beautiful face; the dark, soft eyes, with a mop of dark curls and a lilting little smile. Stop, stop, stop. Your interaction had been less than a minute so far, you couldn’t help him get to so soon, “I, ugh…yeah. Is there anything I can help you with?”

"Actually you can," he smiled softly, "I'm here to pick up a hold."

"Oh," you were almost disappointed that it was something so simple that wouldn't take long. You'd have been more than willing to spend time helping him with whatever he needed, "of course. Holds are at the front, I can grab it for you."

Gesturing for him to follow you, you took your sweet time getting back to your desk area. You wanted to linger in his presence and soft, warm scent as long as possible.

"What's the name?" you looked onto the self for all the various holds you'd pulled.

"Omega," he offered as you instantly felt your face pull into a frown, "she asked me to pick up her hold."

"O-oh," you made a small sound before scanning the shelf for the name. It was only a few seconds before you grabbed it and set it onto the counter, "there you are. Everything she requested."

"Thank you," he looked at you with a curious twinkle in his eyes; probably because your voice had shot up about two octaves, "my sister claimed she was so busy that she couldn't possibly stop in to get it herself. Somehow I got stuck coming in."

"Oh," sister. Alright, you could work with that. Maker, you cursed your silly little brain, "well, midterms are just around the corner. We're all just trying to survive!"

Smooth recovery. Real smooth.

"Yeah," a crooked little smile tugged up the corners of his mouth, "we are. I'm Boba, by the way. I don't know if you need to put that down anywhere for your records, or just wanted to know."

Okay, but that was actually smooth. He was good.

"Boba," you repeated softly, pretending to make a note, "very good. Well, you're all set then."

"Better get going or I'll be late for class," he slid the books into his bag, "see you around."

You were sure he whispered your name as he walked out and at first you were concerned as to how he knew it but quickly remembered your name tag. You really hoped he would be back.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───-

Despite your best efforts to keep your thoughts solely focused on work, your mind kept drifting back to him. It was almost embarrassing how much he lived in your mind.

But maybe luck was on your side because after a few days of missing him, he made his way back to you.

"Hello there," he caught you off guard as you did some reading of your own since it was fairly quiet.

"Boba!" you jumped lightly in your seat as you found him leaning against the counter, "h-hi! I, umm...hi."

"Hi," he smiled, resting his chin on his propped elbow, "how's it going?"

"Umm," biting your lip, you grabbed a post-it and marked your page before closing the book, "'s alright. Been slow...obviously."

"I hope that means you'll have some time to help me out," he raised an eyebrow as you eagerly nodded, "I have some very specific things I need and it might take some time…"

"Lucky for you, I have nothing but time right now," you slid off your stool and walked around the counter, "what can I help you with, Boba?"

And so it came...a thing for Boba to show up during the evenings you worked. You hadn't even told him your schedule but he appeared to be very perceptive and figured it out quickly enough. He always came under the guise of needing help or looking for something. But you both knew, or least you hoped it was so, that Boba didn't need much help with anything.

Oftentimes it would just end up being the two of you, talking later into the evening as he followed you around as you closed the library down. Sometimes if he didn't have a long time to stay, he'd bring you a coffee or some sort of sweet treat to "help you pass the time without him."

You liked it - him - but it also scared you how effortlessly you feel into this routine with him. You wouldn't have minded him as a friend but you really wouldn't have minded him as more than a friend. You liked him - he was easy to get along with, funny, smart, kind, and handsome. What wasn't to like?

"Hello again," Boba's gentle greeting pulled you out of your thoughts as you looked up from your computer screen and grinned at him, "how are you?"

"Boba!" you didn't even bother to mask your excitement, "it's been so boring. I've seen like one person all afternoon. How are you?"

"Better now," he agreed, "you've been the highlight of days."

"Oh," your eyes widened as your whole face flushed with warmth at his words. Surely, he was just being nice, "oh. I-I agree. Having you around has made things a lot better."

"So I'm guessing it's not going to be too forward if I ask you out?" No. Surely he wasn't asking you out...that would be ridiculous. He was...well, he was him after all, "I can practically hear the gears turning in your head. Yes, I am asking you out on a date. Like you and me and a nice dinner."

"Oh okay," you stared at your hands for a moment, almost as if you were wishing they could somehow come up with an answer for you, "yeah, umm, I'd like that a lot."

"Great," he gave you one of those easy, lazy smiles you'd come to adore so much, "then that's settled. When do you get off?"

"It's still like an hour," you couldn't believe this was actually happening, "you don't have to wait, we can just go some other day. Really, I'm sure you've got other things you'd rather be doing."

"Nope," he insisted as he hopped onto the counter and sat down, "I've got all the time in the world. And you're worth waiting for; besides, it's only an hour. It's not that long."

"You sure?"

"Of course," he insisted, "you've really been this oblivious the whole time?"

"No! I mean...not really," you shrugged innocently before lightly swatting his arm, "I'd hoped but wasn't sure if I was reading the signs right and didn't want to think too highly of myself."

"You should," he reached over and gently grazed his fingers over your cheek, "now come on, let's kill an hour before I finally take you out on a date."

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x fem!reader #temuera morrison #temuera morrison x you #temuera morrison x reader

106 notes · View notes

vampire-exgirlfriend · 3 years

Text

Move Me

Pairing: Boba Fett x femreader

Kinktober day 25: breeding kink (from this prompt list, courtesy of @the-purity-pen , our talented kink mistress).

Rating: E

Words: 458

Warnings: unprotected p in v, cum play. Boba being Boba.

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The idea was like an itch at the back of Boba's mind, easy to ignore at first; but then it grew into something overwhelming, less an itch and more an inferno. Once he started thinking about it there was no room for anything else. Once he'd had the vision of claiming you in that way, losing himself in you so completely, there was no going back.

His cock was heavy as it dragged through your walls, his hands gripping bruises against your ribcage. Your back arched, tits bouncing and hands braced against the wall. He watched as your mouth parted and your eyes closed tight, his name falling from your lips as a flush crawled up your neck.

He nuzzled the ankle that rested on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the soft skin there before leaning forward and bending your body in half. Your eyes flew open, pupils blown wide as you caught his gaze.

You looked so ripe, filled to bursting with his cock - stretched past your limit as your heat enveloped him. The idea of filling you with his spend, claiming you in a way no one else had, made his head spin and his hips stutter.

"Boba." His name was a whimper, a whine in your mouth as you looked up at him with those soft doe eyes. His mouth was almost cruel against yours, tongue pushing past your lips to swipe into your mouth and take. You moaned and he swallowed the sound, drunk on it, as if that noise alone would sustain him.

You broke around him, shattering into a million shards that only he could put back together. You clenched and trembled and shook and it was almost too much. Almost; until your lashes fluttered and those glassy eyes found his and you said "please" so soft and pretty.

He felt something in him snap, some primal need he'd thought long buried; the desire to claim, to ravage, to own. The thought of spilling inside of you, dragging his cock through his own spend and breeding you made everything else turn to vapor. He dropped his weight onto his elbows, the bulk of his body caging you in as he found his end. He throbbed with it, painting your walls white as you moaned and cried into the crook of his neck.

He dropped to his side, tucking your boneless form into the empty space around him. His hands traveled down your body to spread your folds, eyes intent on the milky white that spilled from your center. Thick fingers pressed deep, and he held himself there. His mouth found yours, softer than he thought himself capable of.

The itch had become an inferno and he found himself burned to ash.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett #boba fett x you #temuera morrison #the book of boba fett #star wars #star wars fic #tppkinktober2021 #kinktober 2021 #kinktober prompts #my fic

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kanansdume · 2 years

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Imagine we’d gotten our two wasted episodes and one lost episode of TBOBF back and been able to see Boba bond with Garsa, utilize that relationship to start getting to know the people of Tatooine THROUGH HER so that her death meant something when it happened instead of just being for obvious shock value. Imagine we’d been able to see Boba start to work to actually fix some of the poverty issues we heard the Mods bring up despite us never actually SEEING IT in action.

And then at the same time, because the dual timeline was no longer in play so we have the ability to have two storylines happening simultaneously, imagine Fennec takes the Mods under her wing, coordinating them as security and helping train them in their various weapons better, learning more about why they got their body modifications in order to come to terms with her own, the one she keeps always hidden behind her outfit. So that when Fennec goes to save them before heading to Mos Eisley and they have that little moment where Fennec makes a joke about Drash having manners, there’s some history there to make it a sweet moment rather than meaningless.

Imagine getting more of Boba and Fennec relating to each other, Boba discussing those dreams with Fennec and admitting that he doesn’t WANT to be known as a violent destructive person anymore, that he wants to be BETTER. Fennec saying that she doesn’t mind being the darkness so long as he’s always there to ground her when she gets back, accept her for who and what she is. Fennec will do the things that need to be done for Boba, and Boba never judges her for it, will PROTECT her because of it and LOVE her for it. They need each other and work as a team together to both be better people and bring something other than destruction anywhere they go.

So that when Boba realizes he can either stay in Mos Espa and protect the citizens of the town OR go to Mos Eisley to take his vengeance on the Pyke leader and the gotra leaders who betrayed him and the Mayor, his choice to make the sacrifice of staying behind and putting the people who need him first is MEANINGFUL. And Fennec choosing to go in his place, to do the thing he needs to have done but is unable to do with his new priorities, is a natural culmination of that relationship. With a scene at the end of Fennec coming back to Boba and just giving him a silent nod when he looks at her, communicating non-verbally that she’s done what had to be done, that justice was dealt. Boba takes a moment to process that, to let go of his anger and his pain, and nods back at Fennec, welcoming her back at his side, despite knowing exactly how much death she just dealt out.

Imagine Boba and Fennec were respected as the co-leads they are and were allowed to grow as characters both individually and together, that their relationship was treated as central to the plot the way other relationships have been in prior Star Wars media.

#tbobf #the book of boba fett #boba fett #temuera morrison #ming na wen #fennec shand #bobannec #boba x fennec #tbobf spoilers #the book of boba fett spoilers #bobf #bobf spoilers #boba #fennec #you can view this as romantic or not i don't really care either way #but no matter which way you view it their relationship is clearly VERY important to them both #and should've been central to the emotional core and direction of this show and its character dev #temuera morrison deserved better #ming na wen deserved better

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castlevader · 3 years

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KINKTOBER 2021

✦ day six: overstimulation

✦ character(s): boba fett

✦ warnings: +18 only, minors do not interact, fingering, dirty talk?

✦ format: drabble

✦ a/n: i couldn’t post the past days but i’m working on them, so stay tuned !! also, thank you to everyone that joined the taglist <3 sending loads of love

✦ join my kinktober here! | navigation | masterlist

─��°.-ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ-.°•─

“p-please stop–fuck, boba!” you arched your back, boba’s fingers were once again hitting that sweet spot inside of you, capable of making you see stars. your eyes rolled back and you grabbed his wrist, begging him to stop. “i don’t think so, mesh'la.”

in fact, boba just moved his fingers faster, hitting hard that spot. your legs started shaking again, you tried to close them but boba grabbed your hip with his free hand and pulled you closer so now he was between your legs. he was smirking, watching you struggling but taking it.

“fuck, look at you.” he murmured and moved his thumb to stimulate your abused clit. “no!” you tried again to stop him, but he was stronger than you. “c’mon, one more. just one more.” boba leaned forward and grabbed your face, his fingers kept moving and you could hear the filthy sounds coming from between your legs and your shaking breaths. his free hand closed around your neck and he squeezed twice.

when you finally came you almost passed out due to the overstimulation, his fingers slowing down until he let you fall limp on the bed. a little smile appeared on your face and you could barely watch him licking his fingers clean.

─•°.-ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ-.°•─

boba’s 🏷 : @laserbrains @clonewifey49 @stardust-galaxies @star-whores-a-new-hoe @freshspookyvoid @lilipadxx

#leia writing #kinktober #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x y/n #boba fett drabble #boba fett blurb #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett one shot #boba fett smut #boba fett #temuera morrison #star wars

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

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My Boba

Fandom: Star Wars, Boba Fett, Post-Mandalorian

Word Count: 1532

TW: Insecurity, Scars, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Notes: Written before TBOBF so it doesn't include any spoilers/references to that show

“I told you, Ahsoka said this was some sort of Jedi portal to the past. It – I don’t know – pulls someone from one point in time and brings them to this moment. It only lasts for ten minutes, then they return to where they came from with no recollection of what just happened.”

“And what is the purpose of that?” Boba rumbles through his modulator.

You shrug in response. “She said they used it in their teachings. As a way to learn the past from the actual people who lived it.”

“You gotta be kidding me. What can you learn in ten minutes?”

“I don’t know….” You grin as you twist the dials, waiting until the screen reads exactly what you are looking for. “I think it could be fun.”

You slam your hand on the activation pad and watch as the archway before you springs to life. Glowing blue smoke curls out of the gate as the light emanating from it grows brighter and brighter. Suddenly, with a flash, it goes dark. But standing in the archway is a green-clad figure who is simultaneously strikingly familiar and a foreign stranger.

“What the hell did you do?” Boba, your Boba, growls in surprise.

“I-I didn’t think it would actually work….” You take a few steps towards the figure who is now glancing around the unfamiliar room.

When he sees you approaching, he raises his blaster. You stop moving and raise your hands, palms out. Boba carefully moves in front of you, gently pushing you so you are hidden behind him. As the figure sees Boba clearly for the first time, he cocks his head. Though you can’t see his face behind the familiar green Mandalorian helmet, you recognize the movement as one of confusion. You had seen Boba make the same gesture many times before.

“Who are you? What is this place?” It is hard to tell through the modulator, but the new voice sounds smoother, clearer than you expected.

“I think you know.” Boba replies. He reaches up and removes his helmet. The newcomer takes a step back as his face is revealed, but soon reaches up and does the same.

“Oh….” The small sound leaves your mouth before you have time to realize you made it, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had only met Boba after he had escaped the Sarlacc pit and had never seen what he looked like before the damage he endured there. But this… this was not what you were expecting.

The man before you is handsome in a roguish, dangerous way. His brown hair is cut short, and his face is not as scared or weathered as it is now. He is also not as broad as Boba, but at the same time, you can tell he’s more muscular even through the armor. You can still see flashes of your Boba in him as he takes in the environment around him, a specific expression, a certain posture. But he also seems so much lighter, free of the horror he will soon face in his life.

And when he speaks, this time unmodulated, his voice isn’t as weary or as raspy as Boba’s but it’s still deep in a way that sends a pleasant chill down your spine. “Are you supposed to be me? What the kriff is going on here?”Keep reading

“The device you just came through can grab a person from any point in time and bring them here for a few minutes.”

“So, what? You wanted to relive the glory days?”

“I didn’t bring you here. She did.” Boba jerks his thumb in your direction.

You peak out from behind Boba but are speechless as you stare at the other Boba’s – at Fett’s – face. “H – Hel - I mean - Hi!” you finally manage to stutter, giving your hand a tiny wave. You can feel the burning blush blooming across your cheeks.

Fett eyes you, a wolfish grin on his face. “Well, hello my pretty. And who might you be?” You feel your cheeks darken further.

“Not yours.” Boba snaps.

Fett just chuckles. “Yet. Good to know I have something going for me in the future. Since it seems like I’ll have a few rough years ahead of me.” He gestures to Boba’s face. “Dank farrik! What the hell happened to you? Or I guess I should ask, what the hell is going to happen to me?”

“Almost five years in a Sarlacc pit. Do you want details?” Boba growls, clearly annoyed.

Fett blanches slightly at the thought. “I think not. But I will take more details on your two’s relationship.” He winks at you cheekily and a small giggle bursts from your lips.

Boba roughly pulls you behind his back once again. “Unfortunately for you, your time is almost up. I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out for yourself in a few years.”

Fett grins as the light of the portal begins to glow again. “I have a feeling it’ll be worth it.” He places his helmet back on his head and just before the archway flares brightly, you can hear his modulating chuckling. Then, in a flash, he is gone.

You take a hesitant step towards the darkened archway. Then you turn back to face Boba. “Well, if that’s really what you all looked like, no wonder that’s the face the Kaminoans chose to model their clones after.” You say raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Without a word, Boba puts on his helmet and takes off into the sky with his jetpack.

You stare after him, momentarily confused by his behavior, until you groan and slap your forehead. I can be a real idiot sometimes. You know Boba is self-conscious about his appearance. Though only in his early forties, the man appears much older due to the effects of his time in the Sarlacc pit. A fact that has never bothered you but you knew it was one reason he hardly ever removed his helmet outside of your presence. And now, not only did you just remind him of everything he lost, but you practically threw yourself at the version of himself he longed to still be. You had basically just confirmed all of his fears and insecurities. No wonder he stormed off. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

It is hours later before Boba returns to your home. He enters, helmet in hand, and doesn’t even glance in your direction.

“Boba…” Still no response, so you try again. “Boba, I’m sorry. I didn’t think –”

“What? Didn’t think I would be bothered by you practically drooling over anoth– a youn– over someone else! Didn’t think that maybe I didn’t want to be reminded of what I once was? Didn’t think it would bring back all of my memories of that time? What part of this experience did you not think about?” Boba roars at you, but it isn’t anger behind his words. His voice cracks and his hands begin to shake. You never meant to cause him this much pain, especially over something that was supposed to be fun.

He continues, softer this time. “I know I’m not as…. attractive as I once was, but seeing you prefer him over me… It was harder to take than I thought it would be.”

You walk over to him and gently take his face in your hands. “Do you really think so little of me? To think that I would want him over you? Because that wasn’t my Boba. My Boba is the one who I fell in love with. Who I nursed back to health after I found him half dead in the middle of the Tatooine desert. Who took me on adventures across the galaxy. Who made me feel protected and desired for the first time in my life.

“Sure, I made a fool of myself. But I only felt that way because I saw you in him. Some small movements or tilts of the head. The way he winked at me. But I also saw the things that were missing. Like the way you smile at me when it’s just the two of us. Or the way you say my name when you think I’m asleep. Or even when he first showed up! You moved me behind you so I wouldn’t be in danger. I could tell that version of you would never protect me like that. He just stared at me like I was simply another conquest. You stare at me like….”

“Like what?”

“Like I’ve already conquered you. I know that sounds dumb but-”

Boba’s deep, gravelly laugh cuts you off. “No, my princess, that’s exactly how I feel when I look at you. You have conquered my heart in ways I did not think was possible and yet- there is no better way to say it. I am yours and always will be.” He pulls you close, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

“And I am yours. This Boba’s. My Boba’s. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.” And as you press your lips against his, you can’t help but think, There is no one else, in any time or any place, that can make me as happy as my Boba can.

#sfw repost #fic #star wars #star wars x reader #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett imagine #boba fett fanfiction #the mandalorian #temuera morrison #fluff #angst #hurt & comfort #hurt and comfort #insecurity tw #scars tw

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