#boba fett fluff

[gloomwitchwrites]

Say Yes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

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

Word Count: 2.5k

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

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

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

“Marry me, cyar’ika.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff at female but decide to let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what?”

“Of what will change.”

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

“Yes, but—”

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

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.

We are one together.

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

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

We are one when parted.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

We share all.

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

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

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

We will raise warriors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is peace for a while.

Harmony.

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[imarvelatthestars]

Thank You, Mr. Daimyo

Or, the story of the mighty Boba Fett and the school teacher that stole his heart.

Pairings: Boba x teacher!Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, flustered Boba (if such a thing requires a warning)

Notes: I've been sick and miss doing cute crafts with my students, so this is my remedy.

Children have always been something of an enigma to him, even when he was a child himself. He remembers the ones he grew up around, the young clones blindly marching off to battle, eager to prove their merit in a war that didn't matter in the end. He remembers being a child under his father's watchful eye, all the things his father taught him, the good... and the bad. He thinks of the childhood he lost too early to the likes of Aurra Sing and Cad Bane, and then he watches you interact with the children of Mos Espa and it stirs something in him.

Boba's not sure what this something is. At first he thought it bitterness or jealousy, although he supposes there is a bit of truth to that, then he thought it simple confusion. After all, children do have the tendency to be loud, obnoxious, and messy. Djarin's kid is a prime example. But now he wonders if this something feeling that pulls at him whenever he sees you - spectacles perched on your nose, your head and hair wrapped in a kerchief to protect you from the burning suns, a too sweet smile to match your too gentle words - is more complex than any of that.

One of your students, a little Rodian, goes running off after its mother and Boba finds himself drawn ever closer by your smile that lingers long after the children are gone. Your eyes flicker in his direction and your smile falters, hesitant and unsure but still welcoming as you nod at him.

"Another successful day?" It's the only thing he can think to say and he's glad his helmet hides the grimace he makes when he realizes just how ridiculous he sounds.

But you laugh. And that's a start. He pretends not to notice the way his chest tightens when you do.

"Mm, you could say that." Your attention drifts to the Rodian and its mother. "Only one bloody nose today and some of them actually managed to read something. I'm tempted to say I witnessed a miracle."

He thinks a lot of things, then: that you're a fortunate woman to make such an easy living, that you must have the patience of a kriffing jetii (even if such a comparison makes the vein above his eye tick), that he's almost foolish enough to think you're cute, that it's the people like you who make being Daimyo worth all the trouble.

"Must be because you're a miracle worker."

And when you look at him, Boba would like nothing more than to crawl back into that blasted sarlacc pit because when did he start letting himself sound so cliché? His throat suddenly goes dry, even when you smile and chuckle and duck your head away at the poor excuse for a compliment.

"I don't know about that," you mumble shyly, "but thank you, Lord Fett."

That's the other thing about you that doesn't sit right with him. He doesn't like it when you address him properly, with the titles and respect that he's earned. It leaves an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach long after you part. He finishes his rounds in the streets, greeting merchants and playing the part he's chosen, but even when he returns to the palace that discomfort lingers. It isn't until after dinner when he's removing his armor that he realizes he's never heard you say his name and perhaps he'd like you to address him without all the fancy titles and that reserved demeanor you only pull out when he's around.

That should be enough warning for him to stop this, whatever this is.

Infatuation, screams his logic. A childish notion. He's not a child any longer. He could go on for hours about the sort of man he is now, battle hardened and clever and relentless. He's outgrown romantic things like love and affection. This whole thing is stupid, he's acting a fool, and he should make a point not to stop by your school unless absolutely necessary. If his father were only here to see him now, if Sing or Bane or hell, even Bossk knew he'd let himself entertain a crush-

The evening breeze catches the drapes along his balcony just right and it casts Fett back a whole year. He's huddled in front of a dying fire and the moon is high and the Banthas are snoring. The wind is whistling through tent flaps and the Tuskens are whispering to each other, holding their loved ones close. The kid is snoring by his feet with his pet Massif and Boba feels at peace, at home. He looks from one family unit to another, and then he's back in the palace, blinking away a sudden stinging in his eyes.

Your Tusken family, Bane had called them. They'd never really been anything else, had they? They were safe, strong, the missing piece that filled the emptiness a lifetime of solitude had carved into him. He wonders if you could be that, too.

It's stupid. He's going to make a fool of himself. Probably get himself hurt. But his weekly outings to Mos Espa just wouldn't be the same without the usual stop at the school. And it would be bad form not to check in on you.

Little Shronah raises her hand. "Teacher?" Her Rodian accent twists the vowels a bit, so it doesn't come out quite right.

You smile in an attempt to encourage her since she's usually so quiet. "What's up, Shronah?"

"Can you help me?"

The rest of the kids are working either on their own or in pairs on their drawings, so you head over to her side of the room. Paper is outdated even on Tatooine, but you've always thought that learning to write and draw without tech aides is an important skill for the younglings. It's good for their hand dexterity, hand-to-eye coordination, encourages creativity, and when it comes to simple crafts like these, it's just plain fun. Plus you love to hang their drawings up when they're finished.

You crouch down by Shronah's desk. "What d'you need help with, sweetie?"

She points to her picture with the Rodian equivalent of a frown. "I don't know how to spell it."

It's an interesting picture. Lots of brown and green scribbles. You think you can make out double suns in the top half and maybe some limbs in the bottom half, but crayons are difficult for Rodian physiology so it looks more abstract than anything.

"Spell what?"

"My momma said that I- that I should say thank you to the Daimyo because he..." Shronah pauses to catch her breath and her big eyes sparkle when she looks up at you. "Because he saved our city from those big ugly slugs, so I wanted to say, 'thank you, Mr. Daimyo,' but I don't know how to- to spell that."

Oh. You can't help the smile that fans across the entire breadth of your face. Stars above, it's the moments like these that make every bad day worth it.

You tuck your chin into your open palm to hide just how much you're smiling. "Well, that's very nice of you, Shronah. I'm sure Lord Fett will love it." You hand her one of the green crayons, the same shade she used for what you now realize is a scribble of herself and the mighty Boba Fett in all his armored glory. "So thank - thesh, aurek, nern, krill..."

"Cayty, looks like your dads are here." Her auburn braids go bouncing behind her when she darts off. You turn and tap a few other students on their shoulders. "Fetmuh, Nihln, your parents are here, too."

"Bye, teacher!" Fetmuh calls over her shoulder with a wave and a big grin.

"See you tomorrow!"

It takes a moment, but the light ringing of spurs catches your ear amid the hustle and bustle of pick-up time. And really, it should be embarrassing how your body reacts to even the slightest possibility of seeing him. You're still working, for crying out loud! You shouldn't be entertaining the flutter-bys in your stomach or the nervous, flustered feeling in your chest that's crawling up into your face. But you are.

Stupid. It's stupid to think that his weekly check-ins mean anything to him other than the fulfillment of his duties as Daimyo. He has a whole city to run, a whole planet, and you're simply a cog in the greater machine. You know that, logically, you do, but some not-so-small part of you wonders if it could ever be more.

The two remaining younglings fall into an awestruck silence when Fett's frame comes fully into view. He's not particularly tall to you, but he's kriffing broad as a bantha and even more so with his armor. You can tell there are muscles under it all. You try not to dwell on the resulting image that springs to mind.

"Lord Fett," you hum with something between a nod and a curtsy.

You're not sure why you're curtsying. You've never done that before, but the man makes you nervous in all the right and wrong ways, so there's only so much you can do.

His helmet is quickly removed, something he only ever does when the children are around (you like to think he doesn't want to scare them), and your two remaining ones go a little giddy. You don't blame them.

"And how were your lessons today, little ones?" Fett gruffs with something of a smile.

Shronah bounces up onto her toes. "Fun!" she squeals with her fists in the air.

Toma, on the other hand, doesn't share her enthusiasm. "Boring," the Pantoran grumbles as he kicks at a pebble.

The corner of the Daimyo's mouth quirks into a fuller smile that causes his cheek to dimple and Maker, if that doesn't send your heart racing. There's mischief in his eyes when he crouches down onto one knee, his helmet braced under his arm, and he leans in conspiratorially.

"Boring? Don't tell me she's actually trying t' teach you?" and he sounds positively horrified at the concept.

Toma's eyes go painfully wide and he nods frantically, leaning even closer so he can cup his hand around Fett's ear. He's a terrible whisperer, though, so you hear him clear as day. "She is. It's awful."

You've never noticed it before, but his eyes are beautiful. They settle on you, shining bright amber and kaf brown and a little hint of black, and you can feel your entire face go hot when he finally, properly smiles at you. In fact, he's laughing. It's a marvelous sound, rich and hearty, and you really, really like it.

He raises his eyebrows as his head tilts slightly to one side. "Is that so?"

"Guilty as charged," you reply, arms raised in surrender.

Fett tsks and shakes his head in mock disappointment, but the kids are giggling hysterically. Your heart feels so full, it could burst, and you know you're beaming. Stupid, silly crush. Stupid, silly man. Stupid, silly kids.

"And what are we going t' do with you, hm? A teacher who teaches. I've never heard of such a thing."

You laugh. "Yeah, better lock me up. Maker knows what I could get up to."

Shronah is giggling so profusely that you're honestly a little worried she's not getting enough oxygen. The girl is absolutely tickled and Toma isn't much better off, although he's making a considerable effort not to look as amused. Trying to play it cool. Damn, you love these kids.

By now, both of their parents have arrived for pick up and you can see the confusion written plainly on their faces. It's an odd sight, to be sure - two giggling younglings, a Daimyo, and a teacher, it's like the setup of a bad joke. But you wave them goodbye and watch them leave, and Boba Fett stays.

There's a million things you want to say. You're impressed with how good he is with the kids, you want to ask if he's ever worked with any before, you want to say something that might make him stay a little longer, even just a moment, when it comes to you.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" And he turns his attention back to you, expression neutral and damn near impossible to read, but you don't let it bother you. You're sure you can get another smile out of him. "Shronah, our little Rodian? She made something for you in class today. Thought you might like to see it?"

That clearly gets his attention judging by the way his eyebrows shoot up. He seems to process this for a moment, almost like he's confused. He blinks, frowns, blinks again.

"For me?"

You nod. "Come with me. I'll show you."

You try pointing out little bits of the classroom to him, where Shronah and Toma sit, today's lesson still marked on the board, and you hope he doesn't notice or mind the stray crayons on the floor.

Above your desk, there's a banner made out of twine and today's drawings that stretches from one side of the room to the other. It's mostly stick figure families and a few with you guest starring, even one with something that you think could be a rancor but could also be a sandstorm.

"There we go, right there." You point to the one right above your chair and flash Fett a smile. "The smaller green scribble is Shronah and the other scribble is you. You're lucky, she gave you limbs, I think. We had some trouble with the spelling, though. But I think it turned out okay."

The look on his face; you're not sure you've ever seen that look before, on anyone. He's less confused now, it seems to have morphed into shock, but there's something else you can't place. He's almost sad? Or maybe he's just thinking? You glance back at the drawing and chew nervously on the inside of your cheek.

"My Mando'a's a little rusty," you admit. "I think I chose the wrong translation. But I thought-..."

You can't bring yourself to finish the thought. Stars above, did you screw up? Did you offend him? Of course the one time you have a chance to show him something nice, to have a spare moment with the man under the beskar, and you kark it up.

Okay, it's okay, just wrap it up, you tell yourself. Forget it ever happened.

"My apologies, Lord Fett, I-"

"Did you tell her to draw this?"

It's such an odd question and his face is so stern when he looks at you that it's startling. "Wha-? No! No, I didn't... No, she drew it all on her own. But writing in Aurebesh is hard for her, so I helped her spell it out." That much is obvious from the shakily written letters. "The Mando'a was my idea. I hope I didn't offend you, that wasn't my intent."

"No. You haven't offended me." The strange expression lingers for a moment as he considers the drawing again, but is soon replaced by a smirk. "But you are right. Your Mando'a could use some work."

The nerve of this man! You have half a mind to bump him in the shoulder, tease him about it a little, but he is still the Daimyo and you are still just a teacher. You don't want to cross a line.

"Well, it's not like I have much access to Mando culture out here, now do I?" It's a safe enough rebuttal to still be cheeky without bordering on disrespectful. "I'll be sure to brush up on it for the next kid who wants to turn you into a scribble."

"Perhaps the teacher needs to be taught?"

And something in the air shifts. Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes dart around the idea of his face for a moment or two before finally finding the courage to settle on his irises, and you could swear this man is flirting with you.

You nod, still breathless. "Yeah. Perhaps."

Are you offering? You want to scream it from the rooftops.

Knowing eyes the shade of fresh kaf consider you. Fett's cheeks dimple again, both of them, and you have to duck your head under the weight of his attention. It's too dazzling to look at head on.

"Nakar'tuur," he says as he turns for the exit.

You only know about three phrases in Mando'a and that's not one of them. "Uh, what?"

He pauses in the doorway, framed by the sunlight as he moves to replace his helmet atop his head. You catch a whisper of his smile. "Tomorrow. Come to the palace."

Your head is spinning. Or maybe it's the room. Is he fucking serious?

"Uhh." It's the only response you can manage.

"If you choose."

Oh no, he's completely misinterpreting you. Wake up, stupid! Words, phrases, sentences! Anything!

"No!" you yelp. "No, no, I do. I mean, I'd love to. Thank you, Lord Fett, I-"

"Boba." His voice is softer now than you've ever heard it. Hesitant, quiet. "Call me Boba."

You're sure you look like a damn fish with your mouth hanging open, nodding unblinkingly at him like a moron, but you're still processing everything. His voice, his face, his words. His name.

"Nakar'tuur, girl."

And then he's gone. The doors hiss shut on your own whispered farewell, the first time you've ever said his name instead of his title. Something excitable buzzes in your throat.

What will tomorrow bring?

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #boba fett fluff #star wars

[acatalystrising]

Yes, it’s November, but the oneshots stop for no one! I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head for a bit so I finally got a chance to write it!

This oneshot is a veterinarian!(f)reader x TBOBF Boba, no warnings, just lotssss of fluff (and a cute rancor) enjoy!

Here’s a link to part two and three!

Alsooo this one may or may not have been inspired by this…

Oneshot: Moth to a Flame

He was back again.

You heard the now familiar tisk tisk of beskar spurs striking the wooden planks of your walkway, announcing his arrival long before he opened your door. You crossed your waiting room and slipped behind your desk, already rummaging for his package.

You’d never forget the first time Boba Fett stepped into your clinic.

Broad, stern, wearing green beskar that spoke of years of violence and a bounty hunting career soaked in blood. He looked the part too: built like a tank, black clothing that could far too easily hide bloodstains, boots and gloves made of functional leather, helmet with a T-visor that slowly turned, scanning everything and missing nothing.

And yet Boba Fett, the bounty hunter turned Daimyo of Tatooine, hadn’t threatened your life that day. He’d come for medicine…for his rancor. His voice had been rough, like mountain stone, yet carrying a warmth that reminded you of the way spotchka settled in the back of your throat after a long day.

You’d been afraid, intimidated - but advised him calmly, as professionals should, you’d wagered, your concern for the animal overriding your fear for your life. And it had worked - he’d thanked you, paid you handsomely, and left without another word.

And yet, for some reason, he kept coming back. It was usually for more medicine, but recently it had been for something as small as a treat, or advice…and despite your reservations, you’d nearly grown accustomed to his presence. He never threatened you, and always ensured you were paid more than the goods were worth - but still. He was a killer, you knew, and killers couldn’t be trusted.

Perhaps it was for the best, you thought, even as his shadow fell over your doorstep, made larger than life by the binary suns - for the best that you had a working relationship with the new Daimyo. If relations were good, you’d be able to stay in business - then the animals you cared for would be safe. Even if you were entertaining something much more dangerous than a rancor to keep it that way.

He stepped inside - armor slightly dusted by the sandy terrain, silent as always. You dipped your head in a greeting and lifted the brown bag of medicine onto the counter.

“Hello,” you looked at the expressionless helmet, nerves twisting in your gut, and dared to give him a small smile as you gestured at the small paper bag. “Here for the usual?”

He nodded slowly in acknowledgement, helmet dipping nearly gracefully as he approached, gloved hands resting on the edge of your desk as he took the bag. Your gaze dropped to his thick fingers, absently wondering how many people he’d killed with those hands, when his voice crackled over the vocorder.

“The medicine is appreciated, but,” his helmet titled slightly to the side, as if pondering his words. “I’m here for another matter.”

Alarm spiked your chest, and you could have sworn your heart dropped to your stomach. You tried your best to remain calm, collected - but you clenched a shaking hand underneath the counter to ground yourself.

“Is something wrong?” You frowned, unable to fully eradicate the quiver from your tone. “With the medicine, I mean?”

He was silent for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if he was plotting how to kill you. What could you have possibly done? You couldn’t die now - you had two sick banthas, three loth cats, and a nexu cub you’d managed to wrangle from a merchant all depending on you to survive.

“If I have, I promise I can make it up to you,” you knew you were babbling, fear slowly overriding logic. “I never meant to-“

He held up a hand, helmet gently shaking side to side.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, mesh’la.” His tone was still carrying that gravely rasp, yet had somehow imperceptibly softened.

And there he was again, saying that word you didn’t understand…what the kriff did it mean? Was he insulting you? But the way he said it nearly made you feel weak kneed. Damn, he was dangerous.

“The medicine’s helped, but I’m told he’s depressed.” He crossed his arms, weapons on full display, and you waited with bated breath for him to continue. “I need someone to look him over, ensure he has what he needs. Would you be willing?”

Wait, he was asking you to inspect a rancor? The biggest animal you’d worked with was a bantha, and your experience with predators was lackluster at best…

And besides, this wasn’t just any rancor…it was his. At the palace. Jabba’s former palace. In that gods damned pit where so many had met their untimely demise. That place…didn’t have good memories.

“You’ll be safe, I give my word,” Boba’s voice broke you from your thoughts, but he didn’t sound impatient…in fact, he seemed entirely understanding. “You’re the only one I’d trust around him.”

You raised a brow, but nodded. You always knew when a pet’s owner was sincere - there was a weighted concern in every voice, every expression. And even though you couldn’t see the Daimyo’s face, you knew he was being genuine. And so, even though you knew you were probably signing your life away, you felt yourself nodding.

“Okay, I’ll help. When do you want me to stop by?” You nearly wanted to roll your eyes at yourself.

Here you were potentially facing death, and yet you were conversing as if you were going on a regular afternoon picnic with the most notorious bounty hunter in the galaxy - what a funny notion.

“The sooner the better, I wager.” He shifted, fingers tapping lightly on his gauntlet, either in boredom or agitation, you couldn’t figure. “Do you have any appointments for the rest of the day?”

Oh karking hell. You were so going to die.

“Umm,” you nervously scanned your daily schedule that you already knew was unfortunately blank. “No, all clear. It’s…a quiet season.”

His helmet shifted to scan the room before looking back down at you with a nod. “You’re welcome to accompany me back, then.”

You nodded, trying your best to still your quivering hands as you made your way around the facade of safety your desk had created. Boba Fett looked down at you, silent and immovable, as you stopped before him.

I, you thought to yourself, am so dead.

-

You’d seen the confused and frightened looks cast your way as you’d walked through the streets of Mos Espa with none other than the Daimyo himself.

You hoped that someone would be charitable enough to care for the animals after your death. But the chances were always slim. At least the rumors would spread, you wagered, thoughts swirling in the tangible silence between you and your armored companion as he led you through the darkened underbelly of the palace.

I’m dead, dead, dead. Sentenced to be rancor food for Maker knows what.

You kept your gaze locked ahead, hoping you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in your final moments. But you could also be wrong. He’d only ever been true to his word, and he hadn’t once hurt you or threatened to do so. Your thoughts were still a swirling mess when he stopped at a door, glancing down at you.

“Stay with me, but don’t be alarmed. You’re safe.” Boba’s voice was nearly calming to your nerves as he opened the door, the barricade sliding out of the way, as you both stepped into the cavern beyond.

It was a massive cave, littered with stalactites and stalagmites bared like teeth, but that wasn’t what held your attention. Your gaze was locked on the giant, impossibly massive, deadly creature laying at its center. A rancor, in the flesh.

It rumbled a low growl, huge fanged maw parting, and slowly shifted to its feet. Boba, you noticed with wide eyes, approached the beast completely unafraid. You watched, blinking in shock, as he removed his helmet and tucked it under an arm, reaching up to pat the creature’s neck as if it were as tame as a bantha. He turned to face you, still scratching the rancor’s neck.

“He won’t hurt you,” he spoke calmly, deep voice nearly melodic without the vocorder, and gestured at you with a flick of his gloved fingers. “But he does want to say hello.”

Oh stars, you weren’t expecting Boba Fett to be attractive. Nor did you ever think you’d see the Daimyo smile. But he was - so genuinely enamored by this giant beast that his small grin was infectious.

And so you stepped forward, daring to approach the beast. It watched you with glittering eyes, those massive teeth still parted, but Boba walked around to its head and stood beside you.

“See? A friend.” Boba placed a hand on the small of your back, keeping his eyes trained on the rancor, which shook its head and let out a huff. “She’s gonna make sure you’re okay.”

Friend? You glanced at him, striking features focused on the rancor, and you felt a warmth settle in your chest when his gaze shifted to ensnare yours, something altogether soft in those dark brown eyes.

You noticed his hand was still at your back, touch surprisingly gentle. He spoke softly, as if to comfort both you and his gargantuan pet, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d misjudged him. Perhaps there was more to Boba Fett then met the eye.

“Can I…” you regarded the rancor with a tilted head, a small smile slowly creeping to your lips. You couldn’t help it, being in such close proximity with something so magnificent. Well, two magnificent things. “Will he let me pet him?”

“Yes, I’ll show you how,” he turned to face you, so dizzying close, and held out a gloved hand. “Do you trust me?”

Part of you still wanted to say no, knowing all too well that he could still kill you. But you saw nothing but kindness in that stern, scarred face, the corner of his plush lip curved in a small, beckoning smile. You nodded and dared to slip your hand in his.

You noted, even as he raised your hand with his toward the rancor’s nose, that his touch was warm and gentle - not at all what you’d expected from one of his reputation. And when you felt your fingertips brush against the rancor’s tough hide, it rumbled, pressing its head into your hand with a soft sound you almost interpreted as a purr.

“Oh my gods, this is amazing! He’s so sweet, look at those pretty eyes,” you couldn’t help but gush, your love of animals kicking into overdrive, and you gave the scales a gentle scratch. “Let’s make sure you’re okay, all right?”

You glanced at Boba, and found he was watching you with such a tender warmth you nearly felt your knees go weak.

“Knew this was a good idea,” he smiled fully now, rumbling voice rolling through you and settling in your chest. “You like him?”

Kriff, kriff, kriff. He was attractive, dangerously so - his skin a rich tan that flickered bronze in the torchlight. You didn’t want to stare, but you couldn’t help it, feeling drawn to him in a way you couldn’t fully grasp. You found yourself wishing the Daimyo was asking about himself.

“I do, he’s amazing. I never thought I’d ever be able to see one in person, definitely not this close,” you looked back at the rancor, hoping to hide your blush. “Will he let me examine him?”

“Yes, he will,” Boba chuckled, the sound rumbling through your chest to your toes this time, and you distinctly felt a warmth settle in your core. Ohhh kriff, you were in trouble, but not in the kind that you’d been expecting.

He finally let go of you, and you found yourself missing his touch, forcing yourself to focus on the matter at hand.

“Hey sweetie,” you brushed your hand over the rancor’s face, checking his eyes and ear cavities. “All clear, no discoloration. That’s good. Let’s see those teeth.”

You fearlessly dropped to a crouch beside its face, and it rumbled again as you brushed a hand underneath its jaw. You kept a respectful distance from those massive fangs, but noted that this rancor was already earning a clean bill of health. You felt Boba’s gaze on you as you worked, and your cheeks flared. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about - and why he’d chosen you of all people to entrust with this opportunity.

“Well, he’s in perfect health,” you stood and scratched the rancor’s neck, earning another pleased rumble. “Oh, you like that huh? What a good boy.”

You finally pulled away, knowing you’d done what he’d brought you here for, and found that he was still watching you. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze, and you turned to fully face him with a small, shy smile.

“Thanks, for this,” you reluctantly lifted your hand from the rancor and it butted its head into you, making you chuckle despite your nerves. “He’s healthy, just needs interaction. If you ever…you know, need someone to work with him, just let me know.”

“You’d want to come back?” His brows flew upward in surprise, and if he was entirely shocked by this development. “I don’t want to scare you.”

You nearly grinned, a giddiness settling in your bones despite the fact that you knew you should be afraid. At least wary, of the man in front of you. But he’d been talking about himself, not the rancor, hadn’t he?

“You don’t scare me, neither of you do,” you crossed your arms and dared to regard him with a small smirk. “That is, if you wouldn’t get tired of me.”

“I could never get tired of you, little one,” he closed the distance between you, hands held loosely at his sides, and you absently wished he’d touch you again. “I’m glad that you like him.”

“His owner’s not half bad either,” you felt the words slip from your lips before you could stop yourself, and you dropped your gaze to your boots to hide your furious blush.

But Boba Fett merely chuckled, and you felt the soft leather of his gloves bush against your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

“You don’t have to hide that pretty face,” he lifted a brow, lips curved in a welcoming smile as his thumb gently caressed your jawline. “You’re welcome here anytime, mesh’la.”

Oh stars, if you didn’t get a hold of yourself, you were going to melt. You took a breath, realizing too late that you were leaning into his touch.

“What…does that mean?” You met his gaze, molten eyes so warm and inviting, you felt you wanted to dive in despite the potential danger.

He held your gaze, face mere inches away, and you resisted the urge to recklessly learn forward to capture those damn lips in yours.

“It means beautiful.” His gaze flicked between your eyes and lips, and you held your breath, the tension palpable as he leaned slowly forward…

The rancor suddenly released a playful rumble, head-butting you both. You tumbled gracelessly into his arms, and Boba held you gently against his armored chest, a deep, warm laugh rumbling from his throat and sending tingles down your spine.

“Someone doesn’t like being left out,” he patted the rancor’s neck, arm still wrapped around you. “I want to ride him, you know.”

You did your very, very best to not let your thoughts take an improper turn at that comment, given that there was something else you’d be fine with riding - and you smothered a smirk as he met your gaze with a raised brow.

“Perhaps, if your schedule isn’t too busy, would you like to have dinner here tomorrow?” He spoke so smoothly, so gently, you nearly didn’t notice that he was gently caressing your back. “That is, if you’re interested…”

You nodded vigorously, earning another chuckle, and hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’d like that very much,” you met his gaze with a smile of your own. “If you’re interested.”

“Ad’ika,” he leaned forward, warm breath washing over your skin, and gave your cheek a soft peck. “I’d be honored.”

#boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fluff #boba fett #star wars #boba fett fan fiction #boba fett fic #tbobf #the book of boba fett #acatalystrising writes #oneshot prompts #my writing

[bobathirstaccount]

Fated Ch 3

Give Boba Them Digits

“Sure,” you heard yourself answering. You grabbed a napkin from behind the bar and quickly scribbled down your number. Pushing it over to Boba on the slick bar top, you felt his had drop away from your knee. You wished it was still there. But, he used it to pick up your napkin and carefully stuff it in a pocket.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your drink, tonight…” Boba stood, slightly getting into your personal space. Swooning, you nodded, “Thanks… comm me.” You felt hot and silly for asking, but you immediately liked him.

Nodding, he wordlessly departed. Swirling your drink, you decided to finish it in a few gulps so you could go home.

***

The rest of the week passed. Finally, it was the last day of work for the week. Feeling perky and looking forward to sleeping in, you headed to your favorite spot. You nearly skipped all the way there.

After ordering your favorite drink, you slid into a booth at the back of the cantina. Pulling out your data pad, you started to play a little game and sip your beverage. Hours passed.

Feeling good, you left the cantina. It was a nice night, so you took the long way home through the small community park.

You felt your data pad vibrate in your pocket. Curious, you pulled it out and checked your notifs. It was an unknown contact. You raised an eyebrow. Clicking into the conversation, you read:

-Hi there. It’s Boba. You up?

Smiling, you tried to think of a snappy reply. You had been thinking about him in the back of your mind all week.

-hey zaddy. yeah…

You wondered if the use of the word ‘zaddy’ was too much. Before you could feel too self conscious about it, he messaged back.

-You wanna see stars?

Furrowing your brow, you turned left as you exited the park. Continuing your way home, you replied:

-like how?

-Like, I have a ship… we could orbit the planet and have a snack

You smiled.

-ok

-Meet me at the hangar near your cantina; bay 3

A minute from home, you turned around and headed back to the cantina.

-what’re you gonna feed me?

-It’s a surprise…

Intrigued, you decided no more questions. You put your data pad in your pocket and picked up the pace.

****

“Nice to see you again,” Boba was waiting outside his ship for you.

You smiled and walked over to him. He hugged you lightly, pulling you in a little Too Close for just a second. Feeling giddy, you tried not to show your nerves.

“Shall we?” He looped your arm through his and led you aboard.

Once inside, he gave you a quick tour of his tidy ship. It ended in the cockpit.

“Okay, sit here… we’ll go find the prettiest of the moons for a nice view first.”

”Oh… some moons are prettier than others?” You teased.

“Yeah, like how you’re prettier than others,” he purred smoothly.

Feeling hot and bothered, you tried to play it cool. “Look at you, zaddy, trying to flatter me…”

“Is it working?”

You shrugged, “Well… yeah…”

He laughed softly. “Still got it.”

You smiled at his lightheartedness. You watched as the ship took off and flew into the night.

“So you take a lot of girls up here to impress them?” You teased lightly, getting comfortable in your seat.

“Only the ones I really like. So, no.” He flipped a few switches.

Feeling hot and bothered, you offered, “I usually don’t let strange men take me off world…”

“It’d be super unsafe if you did,” he said, taking you out of orbit and in search of his favorite moon.

You laughed a little sheepishly. “Well. I wanted a snack,” you counted after a moment.

“I knew food would be a good incentive.” He seemed genuinely pleased.

Relaxing again, you teased, “Every girl’s weakness. Snackies.”

***

After locating his favorite moon and putting the ship in orbit, Boba led you to the passenger area. It had a nice sized window that offered a good view of the moon and a few more behind it. It was a nice looking moon, you thought.

Then you noticed a little blanket on the floor. On it was a little box and two cushions. “Picnic!” You exclaimed, delighted.

The two of you seated yourselves on the comfy pillows. Boba offered you the box. You found inside a small bottle of expensive wine, and… you gasped. It couldn’t be?

”How’d you know this is my favorite?” You looked up at him, shocked.

“Oh, I might’ve chatted your drunk coworker up at that party, and drawn it out of them. Also, bribery helped.”

You laughed. “Who?”

“I’ll never reveal my source,” he said, mock serious.

“Hm… so long as you keep coming up with things I like I guess I won’t be creeped out,” You reached into the box and pulled the food out as Boba laughed. You found two glasses under the bottle. You let Boba open the wine up as you carefully set up two servings of your favorite snack. The two of you dug in and chatted about local politics and rumors. He seemed to know a lot of them.

Some time later, you realized you were wine drunk. Oops. You confessed to Boba.

”That’s okay, I’ll escort you home.” He casually swirled his wine.

Smiling, you scooted a little closer to him. “How gentlemanly of you,” you lightly slurred your words.

He smiled at you, “You are drunk; to be calling me a gentleman? I’m pretty sure I fall under the ‘scoundrel’ category.”

You giggled, “How come?”

“Oh… just ‘cause.” He shrugged mysteriously.

“Okay,” you slurred again, “You’re a scoundrel then… and you know what scoundrels do?”

”What?” Boba tilted his head curiously.

You lurched forward and kissed him hard on the lips. He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You pulled away to coo, “Scoundrels deeefffintely make out on the first date.”

”Is that so?” He laughed softly, but kissed you again. You deepened the kiss, readjusting in his arms so you could wrap yours around his neck. Giddy, you started to pull your top off.
“Wait,” Boba grabbed your wrists. “You sure you’re sober enough for this?”

You shrugged and let go of your shirt. Suddenly you weren’t sure. He pulled you down so you were entangled in each other’s limbs. Kissing you softly, he said, “Another time.” You sighed lustfully and kissed him back. He groaned softly. “You’re making this really difficult, you know.”

Flattered, you giggled and smooshed yourself into him. He held you snugly as you relaxed into his body. He started talking, but you were so relaxed, and maybe a little sleepy…

You woke to a gentle shaking. “Time to get up, cyarika.”

”What?” You opened one eye. Boba was looking down at you, expression very soft. “Omigosh, did I fall asleep?” You were embarrassed.

“Yeah… it was really nice.” But I felt like I should get you back home, so we’re landed now. “Let me walk you home, mesh’la.” He helped you to your feet. Grabbing your jacket, he held it out for you to slip your arms into. “See, what a gentleman,” you commented lightly, winking at him before you turned around to get your arms in.

“Well. Maybe sometimes.” He slipped an arm around your waist. “Shall we?”

***

Secretly, you took the long way home. You thought the park would be a nice walk for the two of you. Chatting easily, you were at your front door before you knew it.

“Until next time?” He asked.

“Yes,” you hugged him for a moment too long. Finally letting go, you said, “I’ll allow you to call on me again.”

He grinned, “I’m thankful.” Rubbing your lower back momentarily, he added, “You look really good right now. I mean it.” Then he was off, down the stairs before you could think of anything to say. Going inside, you went to the mirror. You definitely looked like you’d just taken a hard nap. Smiling softly, you thought it was sweet he would say that, even though you looked like crap. Smiling, you took your jacket off. Dropping it onto a nearby chair, you fell into bed.

***

Hours later, you woke. After a quick shower, you ate what you generously termed brunch. It was in fact almost noon.

You wondered if Boba was still at the hangar. Would it be weird to show up there? So what? You could just see if he was doing anything…

Or did you play it cool and let him reach out to you?

***


#boba fett x reader #boba x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett fic #boba fett fanfiction #star wars x reader #boba fett fluff #boba fett fanfic #star wars reader insert #x reader #reader interactive #reader input #fanfiction polls #fandom polls #choose your own adventure #star wars fanfiction #tbobf fic #tbobf fanfiction

[outerrimhours]

Fluffember Day 1

Title - Rid you of the Burdens 

Pairing - Boba Fett X AFAB!Fem!Reader

Prompt - “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe here now.”

Word Count - 1,280

Warnings - Mentions of abuse, reader has been abused, feelings of fear, mistrust, sadness, anger. Angst But comforting fluff! 

Notes - Comments and reblogs make my heart so warm. Thank you all for the love you've given me on everything I seem to post. Stay tuned for lots more.

{Masterlist Link} / {Fluffember Masterlist}

“We bring you our offering, Daimyo”, The Neimoidian male grunted, shoving you to the ground in front of Mos Eisley’s new Daimyo, who sat informally on the throne. Your knees ached, surely stained with contusions, and behind the veil that shielded your face was dissociating eyes. Nothing felt real anymore, the chains around your wrist almost like everyday jewelry. Despite the dead look in your eyes, you held your chin high. 

   You were almost relieved you couldn’t see their eyes, face shielded with olive green durasteel, visor pointed in your direction. You were merely property being exchanged. 

    “What is this”, the modulated voice asked. 

Your Neimoidian captors were anxious to make the exchange, the approval of the Daimyo the most important thing they could receive in return. 

   “A very pricey bounty. A Princess from Candovant. She would make a fine servant. Nice to look at”, he said, peeling the veil from your face. You looked past the throne, sick with the heavy feel of eyes upon your face, jaw clenched tightly.

  “Leave her”, The Daimyo spoke, an edge to his tone.  Patience growing thin with the Neimoidians. He rose from the throne to stare them down, “See yourselves out.” 

They didn’t question their orders, knowing better than to overstay their welcome in the presence of Tattoine’s ruler. You stayed still in your spot, knees growing numb to the pressure of the floor, swallowing the dryness in your throat. You prayed the abuse would be a little less harsh as his boots approached. 

You were taken aback when a gloved hand extended out to you. 

“Stand”, the modulated voice requested in a softer tone, waiting for your decision. You were too tired for defiance, obeying the request and allowing your hand to rest in theirs. Bending your knees to stand allowed the pain to flood back to your aching joints and you couldn’t help but wince. 

“What is your name”, he asked, retreating his hand when you were stable. Your lips were dry, cracked, and blistered from the twin suns and it took you a moment to find your voice. The name on your tongue sounding so foreign, as if it had never belonged to you. 

“I am Boba Fett”, the Daimyo responded. 

When he removed his helmet, you expected grotesque. Although when you were brave enough to look, you were met with honey colored eyes eyeing you with fragility. The stoic face of a warrior, somehow softened through the years when he looked over you. 

“Where is your family?” 

You swallowed at the question, breaking eye contact to glaze over the floor. A distant memory that still stung worse than the abuse. 

“They’re dead”, you stated, voice emotionlessly hollow. A fact you had come to terms with long ago. 

“Are you afraid?”

“No”, you lied, unsure of who you were truly trying to convince as the warrior’s eyes studied every expression you so desperately tried to hide. Gloved fingers moving to lift your chin.

“You’re safe here, little one. You can stay until you are comfortable enough to leave, but that is a choice only you can make. There is plenty of room to accommodate.” 

Your brows furrowed in incredulity, to trust a stranger would be to be naive. Yet, what did you have to lose? You were tense, as if you would wake up and the moment would fade, but it was real. Potent and significant. 

“I know your distrust. I have felt it many times, but you can only get so far without a tribe”, Boba assured.

“Okay”, you agreed, no need for elaboration. The first decision you had been allowed to make in months. You held the moment in the palm of your hand, fragile and so momentous.

“I can have Fennec show you to a room”. 

You tensed at the idea of a new face, hardly trusting the one in front of you. 

“Who,” you asked cautiously. 

Boba was unfazed, the feeling all too familiar. 

“A friend”, he replied.

“You trust her?”

Boba nodded in your direction, “With my life”, he replied.

-

Fennec was everything you wished you could be. You felt small in the presence of her confidence; daring and tenacious. Yet, she was kind and understanding. You were so jaded and angry, you almost hated her for no rational reason. 

“Thank you”, you mumbled when she left everything you needed by the bed, shutting the door behind her. 

In the expanse of the room, you were quite still. The silks and linens felt as if they would swallow you whole. Vibrant shades of red a stark contrast to your broken image. You were so dirty amongst luxury, things you hadn’t seen in years since the palace, and your hands seemed undeserving. Bathing was the first thing you needed to do, and a childlike excitement moved through you at the thought of a warm bath. You found yourself wandering over to the marbled tub, soaps molded with garden flowers at your disposal. Hot water pooled against the stone, filling quickly and steaming the room. It opened your sinuses filled so heavily with sand and dust. 

You sighed the moment you were encased in the heat of the water. Every muscle and sense relaxing into the stone, it hugged every inch of you so gently, breathing in the aroma of the soap. Pinks and reds swirling amongst the water, dried rose flaking off. You allowed your eyes to close, sinking beneath the water until you were fully submerged. Letting go of everything. The length of your hair swirled around you as you forced yourself to sink to the bottom. Silence. Stillness. To die this way would be peaceful. 

Once your lungs desperately needed air, you rose. Water droplets catching on the edges of eyelashes and the tip of your nose. When you gathered yourself, stepping out onto the cold floor, the weight of the day..of the months hit you. You didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror. Combing through wet tangles you stared at the stranger looking back. Shoulders heavy with burdens, eyes weary and hopeless. The clothes you slipped on too fresh and soft for comfort. It felt wrong; undeserving. 

Fingertips ghosted over the fabric of the bed, peeling back layers until a perfect spot was formed for your body. You craved rest, allowing the candles to burn out and bind you to darkness. Everything was so pliable and soothing, and even if you fought off sleep it still found you. 

Peace never found you though, not even in your dreams. You felt yourself suffocating, gripping the delicate sheets around you so tightly, crescents formed in the palms of your skin.  Drenched, hair matting to the pillow. Screaming until your throat burned, the feel of invisible hands grabbing every corner of skin. The world had shrunken away to leave a cold void around your skin, as if you had become detached from reality until secure hands grabbed your heaving body until you sat up straight. Your panic stricken face met Boba’s unwavering eyes, hands reaching to envelope your face. Your body stilled, heart hammering away at its confines. Your breaths heavy as you searched his eyes. 

“Shh”, he soothed, and you unconsciously found yourself leaning into his touch, “it’s okay, you’re safe here now.”

When you calmed, you realized the state he was in. Shirtless, sleep pants comfortably around his hips. He had woken to your screams, rushing to soothe you and in his vulnerability  you allowed yourself to still. The warmth of his hands pressed so tightly against your cheeks, assuring you that no danger followed. Your hand reached to settle against his own, tears forming behind your lids. You truly were safe.

Taglist: @acatalystrising , @the-good-shittt, @ummwhatwasthat

#outerrimhours fluffember #boba fett #daimyo #boba fett x you #boba fett x fem!reader #fluff #star wars #book of boba fett #31 days of december #star wars boba fett #boba fett fluff #december prompts #Spotify

[0funkyducky0]

𐐪𐑂 Boba Fett 𐐪𐑂

𐐪𐑂 Smut 💕 - 𐐪𐑂 Fluff 💝

#boba fett #boba fett smut #boba fett fluff #boba fett x reader #boba fett x reader smut #boba fett x reader fluff

[blurbsndrabbles]

More than Enough (Boba Fett x Reader)

Hello! This is my fic debut, and also extremely self-indulgent, haha. Using this as my way to cope with a certain situation, so if this seems oddly specific, it is. Please forgive me if it's a bit OOC or rigid, it's my first fic! :) Hope you enjoy regardless!

Summary: Boba comforts you after a bad breakup. (2644 words)

Warnings: none! fluff only <3

There was something different about you.

Not the kind of different that he had originally noticed, the way you spoke to everyone so considerately, or the way you carried yourself, humble yet confident, not even your smile, dimpled and soft, which made any room light up from the sight.

No. Something was different than that, something wrong.

It was laughable that he, Boba Fett, famed bounty hunter and now Daimyo, was so concerned about a slight change in the attitude of a simple girl, however judging by your distressed expression and few interactions with the patrons, it wasn't a slight change at all.

And Boba knew by now he couldn't keep pretending that you were a simple girl.

You'd only been in Mos Espa, but he'd taken note of you instantly. It was one thing to survive on Tatooine, that was an achievement on its own, but you had made a life for yourself, opening up a successful cantina and climbing up the business change, free of corruption and with nothing but your own dedication and perseverance.

Well, perhaps the favor of the Daimyo helped a smidge.

It was true that he had originally only visited the cantina as protocol, just a quick inspection, all the business had been done, there wasn't much reason for him to stay, and he didn't care to schmooze with drunk strangers. It was Fennec, far too knowing for her own good, who pressured him to stay and meet the owner she'd been raving about. He relented, only because anyone worthy of Fennec Shand's praise was at least potentially useful down the line.

You instantly found your way to their booth, face lit up as you greeted them, only for that smile to fall once Fennec had introduced him, replaced by wide eyes and a tense demeanor. It wasn't fear, necessarily- he'd seen enough of that to identify it- but something more akin to discomfort. He couldn't explain why, but upon seeing your face he felt his stomach twist into knots. He wanted to see you smile, though he couldn't for the life of him understand why he had such a ridiculous thought.

You introduced yourself and shook his hand, staying quiet as Fennec talked his ear off about you. He couldn't help but notice the small blush that grew with every compliment, a bit of that cheeky smile slipping back in the more comfortable you got, or rather as Fennec laid out your entire life story for him.

Your family had been on Tatooine for years, and made their day jobs in trading goods. It was a one-time gamble that had granted you a small handful of money, which you promptly and perhaps hastily decided to open a cantina with, choosing to employ those who'd suffered the most under Bib Fortuna's reign. It was clear you had no love for the previous overlords, and certainly an abundance of sympathy and care for those who'd been hurt by them.

Maybe that was why he mistrusted you initially. Boba was used to deviancy and the two-faced nature of the world. He found it hard to believe that anyone could truly have pure intentions. It was connections you were after, perhaps a criminal boost for the budding business?

He told himself that was the reason he returned each day once business was done, to investigate your ulterior motives, and each day he returned to the palace more defeated than the last.

Not only were you warming up to him, daring to grace him finally with the beautiful smile you showed to everyone but him, but everyone he'd talked to only said good things about you, and none of his trusted connections had any reason to suspect there were any behind the scenes deals going on.

Boba was faced with a daunting truth, you truly were just a kind-hearted person trying - and succeeding- to make their way in the world, and somehow had remained unscathed by the cruelness of the industry. A bit of pride swelled up in him on your behalf. He expected to be disappointed with his discovery, but instead, he was...relieved.

Even though he was done with his investigation, his visits to the cantina were not. After about a month, you'd fully warmed up to him, dared to call him a friend even, although something in his chest ached at the word friend.

It was a few months past then when he'd noticed the change in you.

Like any other day, he'd drudged through his duties and headed to the cantina, only to see you sitting at the booth he frequented, head in your hands.

Upon seeing him, you plastered on a fake smile and beckoned him over, wiping at your obvious tear stains.

"Little one," he murmured, voice strained.

He hated this, seeing you in pain made him ache like nothing else. He'd seen violence and war, been through much more than the average person could imagine, yet this...this, he couldn't bear.

At his endearment, your face twitched, defenses crumbling, and you moved to escape his view quickly, though not quickly enough. He caught you by the arm gently, only enough to keep you there.

"Please, don't hide away from me mesh'la,"

You sat back down across from him, albeit rather reluctantly, sniffling as the tears now fell freely.

"It's nothing, I- It's certainly nothing to bother you with, Boba," you managed a small smile. "I'll be fine,"

He frowned at that, hand having moved from arm to enclosing your own smaller one.

"Mesh'la," he repeated, "I'm not trying to pry, but trust me, whatever it is, bottling it up won't do you any good. If not me, then Fennec, or someone else."

You furrowed your brows, examining him with such scrutiny he might've chuckled had the situation not been so serious.

"No...no. I want to talk to you,"

His heart lept a little, though he maintained his composure.

With a sigh, you ran your hand across your face.

"It's just, I was seeing someone the past few months. Some New Republic pilot I grew up with. We reconnected a while ago, and oh, I don't know, maybe I was too desperate for someone to love me, that I didn't bat an eye when he asked me out. I just...believed that he felt as strongly as I did without thinking. He couldn't stay here, naturally, so I only ever saw him sometimes, when business brought him to the outer rim. But a few days ago, he ended things, said he thought we worked better as friends and that he didn't want to lose the friendship we had. I couldn't understand it at all, until..."

Boba reached out and squeezed your hand softly.

"Until I was out one day and caught a glimpse of him outside his family's home, with another pilot, a girl, acting as if he'd been with her the whole time, and not me,"

He cursed quietly, anger bubbling. If he ever saw that shabuir in his city-

You let out a shaky breath. "Oh kriff, Boba, I just don't understand. Was I not good enough for him? I know I moved far too quickly but, I thought-"

He narrowed his eyes. "You are more than enough. I've known you for a handful of months and I know you are worth far more than you give yourself credit for. If some boy couldn't appreciate you after a lifetime of knowing you, then to hell with him," he grumbled, a slight snarl escaping his otherwise successful attempt at remaining calm.

You seemed to perk up a bit at that.

"You really think so?"

"I do, and anyone else who truly knew you would know exactly how wonderful you are,"

Cheeks tinged red, you offered a small but genuine smile this time.

"Thank you Boba, I guess I...I really did need to talk about it,"

The otherwise gruff bounty hunter tilted his head softly in response. "It's the least I can do,"

You cleared your throat, jumping up from the table.

"Let me get you your drink,"

As he reached to pull out the coins, you waved him off.

"Seriously, I tell you every time you don't need to pay, and I'm certainly not taking no for an answer this time. I'll drag Fennec in here if I have to!" You pouted, hands on your hips.

He held up his hands in mock surrender and smiled as you walked to the bar.

It was true, he realized, that he was most certainly falling for you, and this could not have been worse timing to realize. Not only had you just gone through a breakup, but what if eventually he told you, and you reciprocated? He was terrified of the possibility that he might hurt you just as badly, if not worse. He had no clue what love entailed, hell, he barely understood his own feelings.

Boba Fett was a man unafraid of most mortal terrors, but the prospect of love sent pure fear rushing through him.

So he did what he knew best, and stuffed his feelings deep down where even he could forget about them. A friend was what you needed, not a scarred old man who daydreamed about snatching you away from the sorrows of the world. And a friend was what he would be. Just a friend.

It had been a few months since you'd been broken up with. Although it had stung at first, reflection had done you wonders, and sure enough, it didn't take long for you to be back on your feet. Boba had been right in the end, not that that surprised you in the slightest, and accepting your own self-worth had been key to realizing that you did deserve love, but it certainly hadn't been with the fling you'd put so much hope into.

Hope was all it had been, not genuine connection or love, just a desire and hope to find those things, it was the humiliation and failure that stung the most.

As much as you swore off men and dating all those months since it had happened, you could never get your mind off of Boba Fett. He didn't make it any easier by frequenting your cantina daily for nothing more than some small talk. From a business standpoint, you'd rather he come in to buy something, but personally, it frustrated you that you could never pinpoint his emotions towards you.

It bothered you that despite your closeness, he never seemed to open up much, and it astounded you how you could feel as if you'd known someone your whole life and know so little about them. But Boba was Boba, and he had walls that needed a good cracking and time to do so.

How you wanted to be the one to bring them down.

Even before you'd gotten together with your ex, it was Boba who'd entranced you from the first meeting. He wasn't unknown by any means, and yet was still so mysterious. You weren't oblivious to the fact that he had been guarded around you originally, and you partly blamed that on yourself for acting so squeamish when you'd met. Over time, you'd worn him down a little, and eventually, befriended him, or at least you hoped you had. You could never truly tell with him, though he was certainly warmer, and occasionally, on a very good day, he might crack a smile.

Those were the days you treasured the most.

Had you not been seeing someone, maybe you'd have realized sooner that you were falling for him. Hard. But there was also a small part of you that had realized, and in a panic, maybe that was why you sought out someone else so desperately. The idea that someone so powerful, so ruggedly handsome, so extraordinary, would want you, seemed laughable. Little did you know he had been thinking something similar.

He had truly hit the nail on the coffin with his comforting words. It was truly a horrible time to realize you had such strong feelings for someone, but there was no more denying it. You had liked him for all that he was, and all that you knew he could be. Seeing a little of his hidden compassion sneak to the surface made you desperate to unlock more of it, to see the true Boba buried away under his coldness and indifference. You wanted to be the one he showed that side to, but certainly not as a friend.

Despite this, you knew better now than to rush, and certainly you knew he was worth waiting for.

It was months later when you finally worked up the courage to tell him how you felt.

You'd just arrived to the cantina as normal when you saw him there once again, eyes elsewhere as he enjoyed a glass of spotchka.

You waited, watching him daydream from the bar counter, until he noticed your presence and you snapped back to reality, finally daring to walk over.

His eyes twinkled a bit as he met your gaze, and your heart jumped. You had to say something, or you'd be making a fool out of yourself every time you saw him.

As if he could see your discomfort, he reached out a hand.

"What's troubling you, cyare?" He said, voice rough yet sweet.

Stars, his voice, and those honeyed words. You didn't need to speak Mando'a to hear the affection laced into them. Whether that affection was the kind you craved was the real question.

With a sigh, you pushed his hand away softly. Hand-holding was probably not the best situation in which to divulge this, not that it was anything more than a comforting gesture, his own form of other's sweet words that were so rare for him to speak.

His brows knit together, head tilted slightly.

Now or never.

"Boba, I appreciate you being here for me, as a friend," you began.

He swallowed, nervousness visible on his face for the first time since you met him, and it nearly rendered you speechless. He waited for you to continue.

"But truthfully, I...I can't continue just being friends."

His eyes widened ever so slightly.

"I care about you Boba, not just as a friend, but...something more. I have for a while, but I was just so kriffing scared of what you'd say, you're so important to me, and I didn't want to ruin that, but now I know I can't keep kidding myself. I want to be with you."

His sharp intake of breath and lack of reaction made you wince, but he quickly took both of your hands in his own large, calloused ones.

"Cyar'ika," He whispered, running his thumb over your knuckles, an action that sent shivers down your spine, "I'm not a man easy to love. And I'm not sure I know how to myself."

You tried to speak, but he cut you off.

"But, I can't deny either that you're far more than a friend to me as well. If you're certain of this...of me," he brought his lips to your knuckles, "I would be honored to be yours, mesh'la, if you can be patient with me,"

You couldn't contain the grin you had held back anymore, near ecstatic as he brought his lips to your own, soft and delicate yet hungry and aching, and it took everything you had to pull away softly, seeing nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.

You might've questioned the reason for your past heartbreak in the past, but you never would again. It was undoubtedly for the better, if it brought you to Boba.

"Does this mean you'll finally tell me what these little pet names of yours mean?" you asked with a smirk.

He grimaced, clearly a bit embarrassed at your discovery.

"Absolutely not."

#boba fett x reader #boba fett #boba x reader #boba fett x you #boba x you #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x y/n #boba fett x gn!reader #boba fett fluff #soft!boba #soft!boba fett #star wars fic #boba fett fic

[lex-the-flex]

Cosmic Veins

Luke Skywalker x reader

Summary: Rekindling after an unfortunate assignment, Luke devotes himself as the wonderful man that he is to strengthen your relationship, and fulfills only a fraction of his destiny.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, the reader and Luke just being in love, all the feelings; (both good & bad), mentions of amnesia, the reader + Luke being slightly insecure about the future, just two Jedi in their prime, Luke being a dutiful Jedi Master, the duo discovering their love languages, 18 + – PURE SMUT, loss of virginity (reader), oral f! receiving, body + skin appreciation, and unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it, kids)

A/N: It’s about time that I wrote for Luke! It’s been a hot minute and I love this man so much. 18+ FIC, MINORS DNI!! Thank you to @dailydragon08 for the AMAZING lines to kick off the smut. You're an absolute god! Feedback is always appreciated and enjoy!

Salt and lavender lingered through the air whilst the calming sounds of Naboo’s endless waves turn your room into the private sanctuary it was meant to be. The sun threatens to peek over the horizon of the still ocean while you stir in your sleep beneath the fresh silk bedding. Turning your head into the layers of plush pillows, your brows scrunch at the visions behind your eyes. Jolting awake, you gasped for air, praying that the dreams would soon end. 

The conflict finally subsided in the past, but the wounds remain on your heart. Luke had returned from the Dark Side, from the vile control of an evil presence that you never got to meet. Unfortunately, when Leia couldn’t find it in herself to fight her own brother, her twin, you were put on the chopping block. 

And it nearly cost your life. You were thrown into a coma for two months, but the worst part: you suffered from a miniscule moment of amnesia. You couldn’t remember anything about Luke Skywalker or your friends. Luckily they refused to give up and you recovered in time with the Rebellion by your side. Once you did, Leia immediately prompted a change of scenery for you and Luke. The two of you needed to get away from everything to heal. 

Removing your hand from your chest, you ran it along the empty side of the bed where you expected Luke to be. But he wasn’t. He refused to sleep in the same bed as you, in fear of hurting you, so he took to the marble floor. Gazing over to his usual spot on the floor by the changing screen, the makeshift bedding was messy, and he was gone. Twirling the engagement band around your ring finger, you fixate on the pale amethyst encased in silver within the dim light, and you remember why Luke gave it to you in the first place.

Wiping your face, you spotted your dark ebony robes neatly folded on the desk, and the room’s scents kickstarted the day. So with a heavy sigh, you quietly got dressed, and your faithful handmaid, Winter, brought you breakfast and to announce that Luke promptly requested to see you on the beach. You could feel that something was different in the air; he had good news to share, and a smile finally filled your lips for the first time in a long time. Descending the stone steps of the courtyard to the beach, you finished your early breakfast and discarded the pear’s core amongst the flower bushes where it would be finished by the sparrows momentarily. 

Rounding the corner, you spotted Luke amongst the dawn as your boots crunched the pebbled sand below. Noticing that he was deep in a meditative state, you quietly kept your distance, not wanting to disturb him. Glancing back towards the staircase, you thought about leaving for a second, but your feet remained planted.

“No, don’t go. You’re as strong as the waves, Y/N.” 

Inching closer to Luke, a large smile overtakes his lips, and he closes his arms around you. Feeling yourself let go in his embrace, his warmth was comforting as if it was something you were missing. Basking in your company, Luke kisses your forehead. 

“Everything alright? You’re trembling.” He asks, running his hands up and down your arms. 

“I’m fine, Luke. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You reply, gazing into his blue eyes. 

“Are your dreams still bothering you?” He asks. 

Raising his hand to your temple, Luke silently begins to peer into your mind, ready to discover what’s troubling you. But you take his gloved hand in yours instead. 

Rubbing your knuckles, he quietly understands that your nightmares are at their end, as is the shared exile. 

“They’re not the worst thing I’ve dealt with. Trust me.” You smirk. 

Chuckling at your response, Luke shields his eyes at the sight of the morning sun starting to peer out from under the waves. Basking in your company, Luke clasps his hands around your shoulders and a burst of excitement fills his face. 

“So, I have a small surprise for us, Y/N. Before my security team arrived, my Commander told me that he discovered something just off the coast.” Luke explains, leading you further down the beach. 

“A surprise sounds lovely, Luke. Besides, it gives us a chance to evade the power hungry Senators and staff for once.” You laugh at Luke’s proposition. 

Following Luke towards the end of the beach, the various oak trees start to blend with the damp sand and pebbles. Reaching the beginning of Naboo’s uncharted woods, the sight of a few broken rock walls line the shore before descending into the water. Taking in the new beauty of the planet’s nature, Luke playfully covers your eyes, careful not to spoil the surprise. 

“Are you ready? We’re here.” He teases. 

“Yes! The suspense is killing me, Luke! What is it?” You ask, trying to break his fingers apart. 

Removing his hands, you’re suddenly greeted with the view of an old and abandoned stone tower jutting out from the water. Surrounded by a ring of ferns and moss, the tower perfectly camouflages in the rest of the planet's green fauna. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor at this awesome sight. Sure you and Luke had discovered many old ruins in the past, but nothing compared to this. 

“It’s an old lookout tower. Long before the Clone Wars, Naboo’s trading system used to operate on its soldiers living in lookout towers. Commander Uphsur said that this is only one of two remaining. I've already taken a look at the other one, but there’s something special about this tower. Like it’s calling to me.” Luke confidently explains. 

Refusing to believe him, you shoot him a nasty look. 

“Did you just make that up?” You question, crossing your arms together. 

“Yeah, I just made that up.” Luke nods, admitting his defeat. 

Nudging his elbow, you both smile at his joke. 

“Alright, Master Jedi, how are we getting across? We could jump.” You advise. 

Climbing to the top of a small boulder, Luke offers his hand and you join him, getting a better view of the tower. Then, without thinking, he dives into the cold water and resurfaces with a gasp for fresh air. 

“Luke, what are you doing? You’ll catch a cold!” You shout, hesitant about jumping in. 

“Come on, the water’s only a little chilly! Let’s enjoy the ocean while we can!” He emphasizes, wiping his wet hair from his face. 

With a deep breath, you launch yourself from the boulder and jump into the salty water below. Whining at the freezing water, the sound of Luke’s laughter fills the nature sanctuary. 

“Oh, you liar! You actually thought swimming during the spring would be a good idea?!” You shout, frantically swimming towards Luke. 

“I had to get you to join me somehow.” Luke replies at his victory. 

Splashing a wave in Luke’s direction, he uses the Force to block the water before meeting up at the base of the tower. 

“Now that’s cheating! How dare you block my shot!” You say, making your way to the tower. 

“Don’t doubt my abilities, Y/N! Besides, we all could use some fun in our lives.” Luke answers, extending his hand down to you. 

Joining your palm around Luke’s, he pulls you from the stream, satisfied with his trick. Shaking your drenched robes, you scoff at the foggy weather. Opening the old door, Luke rams his shoulder, cracking the weather wood in the process. Wandering inside the tower, the blinding light of the morning sun shines on the light grey stone flooring. 

Squinting inside, the once lived in tower remains empty with nothing inside. Squeezing your braid, you try to get as much of the water out as you make a circle around the room’s interior. Scrunching your brows, you take in the emptiness of this place, wondering as to why Luke brought you here. 

“There’s nothing in here. Why are we here, Luke?” You ask, unlatching your heavy cloak from your shoulders. 

Standing above the remnants of an destroyed tiny desk, Luke wipes off his dusty gloves. 

“Can’t I spend some time with my fiancée before we return to Ossus? That’s all I want right now.” Luke replies, with his back to you. 

“Luke, why are we here?” You ask again with a more serious tone, determined to get an answer. 

Turning to face you, Luke steps toward you, stopping to look you in the eye. 

“I couldn’t have the Senators and the others in the Palace eavesdrop. I already feel like a foreigner in my mother’s domain and you know I’m right. The truth is, I’m scared, Y/N. I’m terrified of what the future will bring …especially after I hurt you. I nearly killed you with my own hands and I wasn’t myself.” Luke’s shaking voice makes tears fill your eyes. 

A lump rises in the back of your throat whilst Luke bends his head down to you, almost as if he’s bowing to you out of respect. Taking your hands in his, he guides his thumb over the engagement ring he gifted to you out of pure duty. 

“But I’m here. I’m alive and stronger than ever because of you, Luke. I know the gem doesn’t feel like much, but it means the world to me. It means you love me with all our heart. I’ve never had anyone step up the way you have, regardless if they were a Jedi or not. You are your father’s son, Luke, but you are so much like your mother.” You explain, taking Luke’s face in your hands, with your eyes fixated on his facial features. 

“Will this change us from our paths, Y/N? I’ve gone past the Code. I’ve been on both sides of the Jedi Way, but this feels different from anything else I’ve felt before. Even though we aren’t meant to know the future, I can’t help but decide what I want, what I need.” He explains, walking closer to you.

Placing your hand in the center of his chest, Luke leans his forehead against yours, matching his heartbeat in time with your soothing rhythm. The pale amethyst beams up into Luke’s peripheral vision, allowing him to fully combat the moment. His bright icy eyes reflect against your e/c orbs just as his pink lips hover an inch above yours. 

The presence of his hands playing with your belt’s sash makes butterflies rise in your stomach. As the two of you stood here in this private intimate point in time, the two of you were no longer Jedi. But two people who are in love with each other to the very core. 

“What do you want?” You ask, raising your chin. 

Breathing out, Luke swallows his pride. 

“You.” 

Closing his lips around yours, you barely have time to register his answer as his hands begin to wander along your drenched robes. Roaming against the seams and stitching of the sash at your hips, Luke quickly rids you of the tight knot, while guiding you backwards into the growing sunspot. Discarding the ebony robes from your chilled form, freeing your exposed chest underneath. Descending your goosebumped filled body, Luke glides his lips along every part of your exposed skin, and tugs around the shape of your breasts, letting go once you begin to shiver unnaturally from the cold.

Untying your boots, he pulls your pants from your shaking legs, hoping to quickly get you warm. Ridding himself of his frigid clothes, Luke is suddenly hypnotized by the beauty of your nude form, his lips pressed along the crease of your hips, and continues towards the sensitive skin of your thighs. Collecting your throbbing folds in his lips, your mouth falls open just as Luke’s tongue plays with the bundle of nerves. 

Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, Luke inserts his tongue past your virgin entrance, hoping to explore all of you first. Moaning at this unfamiliar feeling, your fingers repeatedly scratch his scalp as the booming sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, drowning out every other sound. 

“Luke?” You call out. 

Immediately stopping, Luke stands up in a heartbeat and gives you all of his attention.

“Yes?” He responds, taking your chin in his hand.

“I need all of you.” You whisper before him. 

Collapsing your arms around his broad shoulders, your nearly exhausted pants fill the air. 

Deepening the kiss once more, Luke captures your taste in your mouth, before laying you down in the middle of the floor on top of his cloak. Hovering above your body, Luke gives you soft kisses along your jaw, allowing some of your tension to disappear. Closing the space between you, Luke guides your legs around his waist, opening yourself to him. Shifting yourself to get comfortable, Luke adjusts his weight to his knees, and presses his hands on either side of your face. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Luke says, touching your nose with his. 

“You won’t, Luke. I trust you.” You whisper, closing your eyes. 

Capturing your neck with a series of kisses, Luke gently touches his manhood against your openings causing you to gulp at the sensation of it all. Teasing your throbbing folds with his erect tip, a gasp escapes your lips and you grip his broad shoulders at the unknown feeling of your bodies melting around each other. Your bundle of nerves soak up Luke’s warmth and he slowly thrusts himself past your entrance, Luke desperately wanted nothing more than to be deep inside of you, allowing you to surrender to his euphoria. Wincing at this foreign feeling, you lean into his arms, silently begging for support and Luke senses your growing desperation. 

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He asks into your ear. 

“No, I’m alright. Just keep going.” You answer. 

Smiling at your sudden boost of confidence, Luke quickened his pace, wanting to feel you around him. Trailing his lips down to your collarbones, the sweet sounds of your shared moans became more valuable than anything on Naboo. Gliding your hands down Luke’s muscular form, you suddenly became overwhelmed with all the love and lust in the world, causing a few tears to fall down your face. 

Pepper kissing your tears away, Luke’s lungs suddenly clogged with lust as he opened himself up to you, and he buried his face in the softness of your neck. Stretching himself out, you welcomed his pleasure into your heart as he placed his hand on your chest. Discovering your sensitive spot, you both moaned and whimpered at how good everything felt. Digging your nails deeper into Luke’s hot skin, you felt a fluttering in your stomach. 

“I’m here, Y/N.” Luke says as his voice echoes in your ears. 

Nodding at his declaration, you couldn’t handle the tension for a second longer, and your walls squeezed around Luke. Finishing after you, your whole body went numb and Luke’s ears started to ring. Shielding your nude skin from the cold, Luke pulled his cloak around tired body. Hugging his muscular form, the warmth of his cloak made your eyelids grow heavy as Luke gave you his arm to lay on.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N. Even until the end of time.” Luke declares, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. 

“I love you beyond the limits of stars, Luke.” You reply, feeling sleep take over your mind. 

luke skywalker taglist ~

@dreamliners

@midnightepiphany

@maybeimart

@nonbinary-tatooine

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@dailydragon08

@eveningserenityyy

@sonofthedunes

@wicked0clouds

@tearsleftt

@thereallchristine

@partofmejustwantstosleep

@xxx-aurora-swirls

@remusstefon

@annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

@0paperairplane0

@jobean12-blog

@winter-soldier-101

@kethamine

@pantaeudaimonia

@acupnoodle

@flawros

@skx-wlkr-blog

@xplore-the-unknwn

@tatooineknights

@myevilmouse 

@gabbasposts

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars luke #star wars luke skywalker #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker x y/n #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker fic #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker book of boba fett #luke skywalker bobf #graham hamilton #mark hamill

[iszapizza]

more darthfett shenanigans

(the kiss was a keldabe kiss because I’m a sucker for that HAGSGDHS)

Link to the original ship template

#Star Wars #star wars ot #darth vader #boba fett #darthfett #doodles #just fooling around #read a lot of angst and I gotta compensate with fluff and crack

[gloomwitchwrites]

Fluffuary 2024 Masterlist (Star Wars Edition)

Five fluffy Star Wars one-shots during the month of February!

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Prompt 1: Planning the Future (complete) CT-7567 / Rex x Female Reader

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

Prompt 2: Spooning / Cuddles (complete) Ben Solo x Reader

You give Ben comfort after a night terror.

Prompt 3: Marry Me (complete) Boba Fett x Female Reader

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

Prompt 4: Meet Ugly (complete) Hunter (Bad Batch) x Reader

A misidentification of a target lands Hunter in a messy entanglement.

Prompt 5: I Love You (complete) Din Djarin x Female Reader

Din Djarin admits what he wants.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @dameron-grant-spector @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @enfppixie @cinnabeanz @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

#star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars fluff #star wars fanfic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #mando fanfiction #mando fic #mando fluff #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fluff #boba fett fic #hunter bad batch #hunter fanfic #ben solo fluff #ben solo fanfic #ben solo fanfiction #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex fluff #ct 7567 #the clones #captain rex fic #captain rex fanfic #bad batch fanfic #bad batch fic #bad batch fluff

[imarvelatthestars]

Tell Me

Notes: I was in desperate need of soft Boba and couldn't find exactly what I was looking for, so here I am trying to make it.

Pairings: Boba Fett x gn!Reader (no pronouns/gendered language)

Warnings: vague references to reader's past emotionally abusive relationship, but nothing specified - please read with care if you feel this could trigger you!

There's no rhyme or reason to the pattern of your memories. You've gone weeks without them, each day coming and going as normally as ever. You've had days where a simple look at a mug of kaf will send you into a fit of tears. Today it was the way the sunlight filtered through the clouds just so, casting streaks of color across the sky that took you right back to that one evening so long ago. When everything went wrong. When the person you should have been able to trust hurt you so irreparably.

Now you're huddled in on yourself at the base of the balcony, the wind whistling overhead as the suns continue setting. You're not there, you know you're not, but the memory and all the emotions it carries with it are so vivid that it's like a blaster shot right to the heart.

The chime at your door goes off, quickly followed by Boba calling your name. Shit. You contemplate for a split second whether you should pretend you're not there or if you should dry your face and let him in. Neither option feels quite right. Because you don't want him to see you like this. Weak. But you don't want him to leave you alone with your thoughts, either.

He chooses for you, though. "I know you're there," he gruffs. He doesn't have to ask if you'll let him in - you both know he'll get in one way or another, by your doing or his.

"Coming!"

And you shouldn't be irritated because isn't this what you wanted? But you're more irritated that he's caught you being so vulnerable, so human when all you've ever tried to do is prove yourself to be strong enough and worthy enough of the trust he puts in you. And you hate that you care so much.

There's nothing to read on the beskar face that mirrors you on the other side of the door, but you can feel his eyes on you all the same. Probably noting how bloodshot and puffy your eyes are, the dampness just under your nose and in the shadow of your jaw where you missed a few spots. With all the gear he has wired into his helmet, you wouldn't be surprised if he could read your heart rate or pick up on the embarrassed heat in your cheeks and chest.

The helmet tilts to one side so slightly that anyone else may not have noticed, but you know him. You notice. You always notice. "Are you injured?"

"No," you sigh as you duck your head. "I'm fine."

His answering scoff sends your head swiveling back toward him. "Don't lie to me."

"It's none of your business."

You know it's not fair. He's not the villain here. He's your employer, yes, your ally and maybe even your friend if you really stretched it, but you trust him more than you've trusted any other employer. You trust him more than you should. Crime lord, former bounty hunter, murderer and all. Okay, so maybe he's a bit of a villain, but he's not the one responsible for your foul mood, so you shouldn't be taking it out on him.

He's just hitting a little too close to home right now.

You can't look the helmet head on, can't venture too close to the visor or what lies beneath it, so you settle for bowing your head in his direction and murmuring an apology. "I'm not myself right now."

Boba is a mountain of impenetrable confidence and quiet strength. Even now in your quarters, even as he removes his helmet, even as he lays his face bare before you, he remains the enigma you've never been able to get close enough to.

"Tell me."

You shake your head. "You don't need to hear it." Maybe if you put some distance between you, it'll be easier. Ironic considering how you normally can't stand close enough to him.

"That wasn't a request."

Anger flares up in your chest again. He's being awfully presumptuous, taking up space in your little corner of the palace that belongs to him, this one place that is yours alone and not subject to the whims of the Daimyo. Demanding you tell him your troubles?

"Well maybe I don't want to tell you, Boba," you hiss. Tears are returning unbidden along your waterline and it's infuriating. He's infuriating. "It's my shit. You don't have to worry about it, okay? Just."

Just what? Leave you alone to wallow in your misery? Pretend he never saw you in the midst of falling apart over a fucking sunset? Your gaze lingers on the swell of his biceps as he crosses his arms over his chest and something panicked leaps in your chest. Hope against all hope, just hold you, maybe?

Leather whispers across the skin of your elbow and a chill runs up your spine as you realize that he's touching you, Boba's actually touching you. It's everything you've ever wanted, but it's all wrong because he's doing this because you're crying. You never thought he'd see you like this, that he'd touch you beyond offering a helping hand in the heat of battle. This? It's almost too much.

He's gentle with you, though. He takes your shock in his stride, doesn't acknowledge the sharp, startled inhalation you almost choke on. He turns you toward him with all the wariness he might give to a frightened animal and then his hand is tucked under your jaw, the tip of his thumb on your chin as he tilts your head back, back, back until you're looking at him. Really looking at him. You can't look anywhere else.

"If it's made you cry, it is my business." His voice has never been softer. And that look in his eyes, those big brown eyes set against that beautiful backdrop of warm brown skin, you've never felt safer. "Tell me."

And something stubborn and bitter cracks under the pressure of the sudden surge of your fondness for him. You don't know why he's doing this, you don't understand why he would concern himself with your affairs or your tears or your heart, you only know that you never want him to be farther away from you than he is in this moment.

"It's just a memory."

Confusion furrows into his brows. "A memory?"

It springs to life in the back of your mind, the hurt and betrayal and the way your heart felt so, so broken. Sometimes you still feel broken. Like your entire essence is a wound that never healed right.

"It's silly, I know," you start, hoping that he won't find you utterly ridiculous. I'm stronger than this, you want to scream, it takes more than a memory to break me down. Don't laugh at me.

But to your surprise, Boba shakes his head. His mouth has set itself into a firm line and the lines in his brow have furrowed even deeper. "I know something about memories," he mutters as his eyes rove over your face like a caress. "The ones too potent to be forgotten. The dreams that linger."

You trace the line of the scar that runs between his eyes with your own hesitant glance. He has lived a life you can't even imagine, but still you wonder - who hurt him? This strange man who glints green in the sunlight and looms in the shadows of the night, who you carry so secretly in your heart.

"It was a long time ago," you whisper. Boba waits, his hand never leaves the curve of your chin. He lets you tell your story, he doesn't interrupt beyond the low rumbling of his chest when he disagrees or disapproves of something, and he doesn't shy away when you cry. He stays.

He stays until your breathing has evened out and the suns have set and the only light that illuminates you both is the light on his chest plate and the last whispers of twilight lingering in the sky. There's something brave about the dark, about knowing that he can feel you but he cannot see you and vice versa. It makes the air thick and heavy, and your lips tingle.

His tunic shifts under his armor as his body moves, then the puff of his breath hits the bridge of your nose. Something drops in the pit of your stomach and, in a panic, you blurt out the first thing you can think of as your mind struggles to play catch up.

"How did you know I was here?"

Why do you sound so breathless and hoarse?

He laughs and his breath hits you again, warm and light. "Fennec."

"Of course."

Boba rumbles again low in his throat and you can feel it vibrate down into his fingertips. "She knew I was looking for you."

Looking for you? Why does that one simple statement set your heart off like a racing fathier? He's gone searching for you before, for a mission, an assignment, but something tells you that's not the case this time.

You're sure he can feel your heartbeat by now. "Why?" you croak. "Why, uh, did you need me?"

The hand under your chin twists until its palm rests flush against the swell of your cheek and his fingers brush your ear and your hairline. His warmth radiates into you and spreads down to your toes in an instant. Maker, he's so close. He's closer than he's ever been.

"Had something to ask you."

Your heart is in your throat. "What is it?"

The last remnants of twilight sparkle in his pupils and you swear you can make out a smile in the darkness. His voice shakes just slightly. "You tell me, mesh'la." And then his mouth is on yours and there is only him.

His beskar is cool in the evening and its chill bites through your clothing to your chest where your skin feels like it's on fire. The skin of his lips is dry, but he's soft. So soft. Everywhere. His clothes, his nose pressed into your cheek, the worn leather of his gloves that smells of blaster fire, his tongue laving across the trembling seam of your mouth. And when you sigh into him, he falls into you, gentle as a breeze, not strong and steady but slowly, patiently. You're barely aware of your own body as it molds itself around him on instinct, a hand at the nape of his neck, another over his heart.

Your brain is fuzzy for a good minute after you pull apart, but he doesn't go far. He keeps his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose rubbing yours. He stays.

"That..." You smile, then you laugh, and one of his hands curl around your hip to draw you closer. "That was the best question ever."

You're not entirely sure if this is a question that leads to a lantern-lit dinner on the balcony or a bounty hunter in your bed, but you want to figure it out with him. For him. For you.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fluff #boba fett #star wars

[acatalystrising]

After a new job, relationship, and now an upcoming move to plan for, I’m FINALLY back to writing! Here we have, at long last, chapter four of Moth to a Flame! This story has taken so many turns and I have a million ideas, so there will be more chapters to come! For now, I hope you enjoy!

Here are the links to chapters one, two, three, and five!

Minor nsfw, no other warnings.

Moth to a Flame Chapter Four

“Having trouble, mesh’la?”

Boba Fett’s deep rasp had taken a uniquely playful tone as he walked beside you, the clinking of his spurs breaking the calm silence. He watched you carefully, brow raised, a knowing look in his dark eyes - eliciting yet another furious blush as you tried to regain your balance.

You’d fallen in love before, of course. Had your doomed relationships that went nowhere, leaving you with only a broken heart in their wake. But this? Stars, you’d never had a person make you feel like this.

Head still spinning from the kisses in the rancor pit, you’d nearly tripped as you ascended the palace steps.

“Oh, I’m fine, just clumsy,” you managed to right yourself and smirk at your own expense, “wouldn’t be the first time I’ve tripped on my own two feet.”

But it’s the first time I’ve fallen this hard…

You almost said it. Almost voiced the roaring thoughts in your head, but they were locked behind your lips - past experiences and fears strong enough to curb your tongue.

“Then we’ll use precaution,” Boba extended a gauntleted arm with a smooth flourish as he walked beside you. “Allow me.”

“Such a gentlemen,” you placed your hand on his arm and he chuckled, the sound warming your chest and making you weak-kneed all over again.

You snuck a glance at him as you both passed a set of windows, the moonlight filtering through the hewn stone, illuminating the pathway beyond. Your jaw nearly dropped when you saw his green armor glinting in the pale lighting, which cast a silvery sheen onto his eyes and skin. Maker, he was gorgeous. His broad frame overshadowed yours, study and resolute - the build of a warrior. Every scar, every muscle spoke of a life spent as a vicious bounty hunter, someone many still feared. This once again served as a reminder of the danger he posed - not merely for the weapons he carried, but for the weapon he was.

And yet, he was gentle with you.

“Like what you’re seeing?” His voice was soft, softer than you’d expected for someone of his reputation, and you frowned, noting a hesitation there.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d suspect that Boba Fett, of all people, doubted his worth. For all the power, grace, and confident charm he exuded, you suspected there were many wounds hiding behind those honeyed brown eyes.

“Always,” you gripped his arm tighter as if that alone could reassure him, to help him see the truth you were discovering. “How could I not?”

The beskar was cool to the touch - but it didn’t frighten you. Relief, not dread, washed through you as your fingers ghosted over chips in the paint. You felt grateful for the armor that kept him safe, helped him stay alive all those years to be here, now…with you.

He hummed, brows furrowed in thought. For a moment, he seemed so far away - mind lost in the spiraling galaxy above. You didn’t know what dwelled in that mind, but stars, you wanted to learn, to dive deep into vastness that was as wide as space itself. Wanted to help him see he wasn’t alone, as he’d shown you.

“Thank you…for everything.” You finally spoke, voice equally soft, and he regarded you with a gentle stoicism you now understood to be rapt attention. “I’m not…used to this. I’ve done what I can to care for the animals, my friends…but I’m just…me. I’ve never caught the attention of anyone important.”

His dark brow flicked up as he silently helped you up the next flight of steps, lips set firmly as he guided you through his palace. It was ironic, that after all these years of fearing the likes of Jabba the Hutt and Bib Fortuna, you found yourself exploring the halls of their former home with the new Daimyo. Someone who, unlike them, was fair and just - walking beside you in thoughtful silence.

It was a peaceful quiet, really.

Contemplative, even. In truth, you didn’t mind - it was comforting in the way a mountain would assuredly always stand. The way the stars shone in the sky, lighting your path home in the dark. True as the suns and moons that blazed above in celestial wonder. Boba Fett was only a man, you knew - but he felt like something eternal.

“You intrigued me the day we met.” When he finally spoke, he was achingly somber, those dark brows furrowed in thought as he led you down an adjacent hallway. “I’ve been alone for…a long time. Didn’t think that would ever change. Took weeks for Fennec to convince me to return.”

Weeks? You found it difficult to picture this big, broad bounty hunter being afraid of anything - much less your rejection.

“Stars Boba, I’m not scary. Sure, I was frightened at first when you stopped by,” you shrugged with a small grin, meeting his waiting gaze. “Think about it - the most renowned bounty hunter, now our Daimyo, back from the dead, walking into my clinic.”

“Didn’t wish to frighten you.” He looked away, fumbling with the helmet tucked at his side as if looking for a means of escape.

You noted the rigid posture, the squared shoulders, the armor that went much deeper than beskar draped over his heart. A heart that, despite all the things he’d done, the blood he’d spilled, had always been something soft…something wanting love. It broke you, to see it - a soul so akin to your own despite your vastly different experiences. Perhaps you weren’t the only one who bore inner scars still mending.

“Boba.” You stopped, waiting for him to do the same, softening your voice the way you would for a pacing, caged animal. You didn’t see him that way, of course, but you recognized when someone felt trapped.

He paused, shifting on his heels to face you, expression guarded, a great weight lingering in his eyes. And damn it all, those eyes were an ocean, one you’d willingly drown in. There was a wisdom there, beyond his years, a depth of pain that spoke of decades of trauma and loneliness. Stars, you wanted nothing more in than moment than to love him so fiercely, so wholly, he could set it all aside - if even for a moment.

Maker, what all had this devastatingly beautiful, broken man endured?

“I’m not afraid. In fact, you’ve captured my heart, I think.” You dared to speak your mind, smiling nervously as you forced yourself to continue. “You have since you first set foot in my clinic.”

Boba’s eyes locked onto you, gleaming in the moonlight, and you swore to the stars you saw hope.

“The feeling,” his lips curved in a fond, yet sad, smile - watching you with such intensity you felt his gaze bore into your very soul. “Is mutual.”

You could only nod, so moved by the dualities of his gentleness and strength as he resumed leading you down a hall you recognized, the one that led to the dining room.

The truth was, you’d been alone for so long.

His words both warmed your heart and left an ache lingering in your chest. In your experience, good things didn’t last. You’d lost much in your life, and you couldn’t help but wonder…would you lose this, too?

“You’re quiet,” Boba’s voice rumbled through you as he led you into the dining room. “Something wrong?”

You blinked, realizing you felt so comfortable with him that you had slipped deep into your thoughts. Whether he knew it or not, he’d proven to be safe enough for you to lower your guard - and that didn’t happen with many.

“No,” you regarded him with a smile, finding him watching you with rapt attentiveness. Once again, the hunter in him was too keen - something you were still adjusting to…but he deserved the truth. “I don’t…have much of a family. You’ve been so kind, and I enjoy your company, I just don’t want it all to…”

Silence fell as the words cut off in your throat, as if held by back an invisible fist around your neck.

He led you to the vast spread of food, pulling out a chair for you in silence. He sat at the head of the table beside you, graciously waiting for you to gather your thoughts. You didn’t want to admit it - admit that you were afraid. Not of him anymore, no, but of losing him. That mental shift had happened quickly - very quickly, you might add - and it forced you to face the real question at hand. Stars, had you already fallen in love with Boba Fett?

“Look at me, sweet girl.”

Boba’s voice was soft, rumbling through you like a caress, prompting you to meet his gaze. You found a raw adoration in those amber shot eyes, so intense it left you breathless.

“There’s no hidden motive,” he placed a hand over yours, gloved fingertips lightly caressing your knuckles. “We’ll take things however slow, or at whatever pace, that you wish.”

You nodded, and his lips curled in an easy smile that made your heart race, but his gaze still held a note of seriousness that commanded your attention.

“I’ve no intentions of walking away,” he raised a brow, moving to lift his hand from yours. “Unless you ask me to.”

You mourned the loss of his touch and fought the urge to lean forward and take his hand back in yours, heartbeat still pounding in your ears as you shook your head.

“I’d never ask that,” you smiled, fears melting away. His mere presence did that - cutting away the darkness in your mind. “So I suppose you’re stuck with me, my Daimyo.”

“With a beauty such as you?” He lifted a cup in his big hand and raised it to his lips with a devilish smirk, voice impossibly husky. “If I’d ever be so lucky.”

You watched him drink, eyes locked on you, and couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze. It was intense, to feel so captured, and yet so at home.

“Please, eat,” he gestured at the spread of food, armor glinting in the firelight. “Look like a princess in that dress.”

Heat blossomed on your cheeks as you raised one of the cups to your lips, the wine smooth and sweet on your tongue.

-

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the food, his close proximity, or all three - but you felt nearly euphoric as you and Boba conversed well into the night.

It quickly became apparent that he was brilliant…more brains then you’d expected from a man with his brawn. Stoic and direct, but with a surprisingly dry, humorous side - he never missed an opportunity to compliment you, his smirks and light touches sending you spiraling deeper and deeper into an abyss that you never wanted to escape.

“I’m still curious about the nexu,” Boba crossed his broad arms, leaning back into his chair, brow slightly raised as he regarded you with a small, crooked smile. “What do you plan to do with her once she’s older?”

“They’re native to thick jungles and heavily forested areas, but adapt well to new environments.” You took another sip of your wine and shifted in your seat, suddenly wishing he was closer, that he’d kiss you again. “I’m hoping to train her, and eventually build her a nice, big enclosure.”

“Tell me if you need assistance,” he set down his fork and wiped his bare fingers clean with a napkin, and a very, very traitorous part of you watched those thick, yet nimble digits with another blush. “The animals deserve good lives.”

Think about the topic. Think about your nexu. Don’t let your mind wander… you swallowed, nodding, glancing away and taking another gulp of wine. Gods, you were in trouble. Kriff, kriff, kriff, he’s so attractive. I just want to…

“I…thank you,” cheeks burning, you shifted again to press your thighs together in a sad attempt to alleviate the ache in your core, and his gaze flitted over you like a caress - those dark, beautiful eyes flecked with gold locking on you with intense focus.

Damn it all, of course he’d notice. He was a bounty hunter, the best bounty hunter - he knew how to observe people. And right now, you were hopelessly tipsy bordering on drunk, and he was reading you like a book.

“You seem distracted…something the matter?” He quirked a brow, the corner of his lip curved in a sly smirk. “You can tell me, mesh’la.”

Oh gods, the man was toying with you. You’d willingly walked right into the hunter’s snare…and he knew it. He had you right where he wanted you, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“Oh, I…I’m fine,” heat crawled over your ears, and you knew you were blushing, dipping your head down to take another sip of your wine, the potent wine loosening your tongue. “You’re just…so beautiful. That’s all.”

Boba fell silent, and for a moment you worried you’d offended him. You anxiously glanced back up, only to find his trademark scowl replaced by a uniquely shocked expression.

“You mean that?” His tone was gruff, brows lowering with confusion, he gestured at his face with a shrug. “Even though I’m…this scarred?”

Oh maker, you wanted to hug him. Kiss him senseless and show him just how attractive you thought he was.

“Of course I do,” you leaned forward, subtly scooting your chair closer to his, heartbeat pounding like a drum. “What a silly thing to say. Scars don’t make people ugly, they’re signs of survival. Marks of honor. And yours make you stunning.”

The sound that emitted from deep in Boba Fett’s chest was the closest thing to a strained groan you’d ever heard him make. And gods, it nearly sent you spiraling. You shifted closer to the edge of your seat, breath snagging in your throat when he scooted his chair back and regarded you, head tilted to the side, legs spread, fingers steadily tapping the armrest as if he were on his throne. If you hadn’t already been blushing, your face was assuredly as red as the suns when he shifted his hand and patted his muscled thigh, voice a beckoning purr.

“Come here, little one. Take a seat.”

Oh. Good. Gods.

How the kriff were you even supposed to move? And yet you stood before your speeding thoughts could process the actions, moving on wobbly legs to stop before him.

He regarded you with a stern expression, save for the glimmer of a smile in his eyes, a subtle softness which prompted you to sit on his thigh. A strong arm curled around you, hand resting comfortably at your hip, holding you securely against him even as a chuckle rumbled from his chest, sending more heat curling to your core.

“You’re the beautiful one. So perfect.” He lifted a hand to caress your jaw, touches feather light as he explored your skin. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, voice hoarse, heart pounding so loud you wondered if it would burst. “You, you’re…”

“I’m what, princess?” He shifted, and your cheeks burned when you felt his hardened arousal solid like durasteel beneath you. “Remember what I told you earlier, sweet flower - use your words.”

You nodded, daring to lean further against his chest, closing the remaining distance between you, the contradictory coolness of the beskar and warmth of his body oddly comforting. Kriff, the things you’d only do with Boba.

“You’re…unlike anyone I’ve met before.” You took a breath, trying your best to gather your thoughts as his fingers traced circles over your skin, nearly sending your poor brain into a mad spiral. “You make me feel safe.”

He nodded, a certain pride shining in his eyes at that, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your pulse point. He lifted a hand to your face, fingers caressing your bottom lip, hesitating. You dared to flick out your tongue over his finger, and he growled, dropping his hand to your chin and guiding you into another kiss with more rumbled praise.

“Good girl.”

You whimpered against him, you couldn’t help it, core clenching around nothing even as heat pooled between your legs. Just the fact of knowing that he was so close, that he was affected by you too, made your thoughts blur until you no longer knew what end was up. And yet he was so, so strong, holding you as he deepened the kiss. Protective, ensuring you wouldn’t fall. Respectful, always waiting for you to take the next step.

“Liked that, hmm?” Boba drug his lips along your cheek, warm breath washing over your skin. “Tell me if I should stop.”

“Please don’t,” your voice was nearly breathless as you tried to string your words together. “Please…”

He hummed, kissing your neck, then your jawline, dragging his lips up to capture yours. You leaned into him, deepening the kiss, shifting so you were straddling his lap. He grunted, pressing a hand to the small of your back, guiding your hips in a slow grind.

It had admittedly been a while since you’d been with someone. And there’d been a reason…a reason you’d elected to ignore for the moment. Trauma be damned - you wanted this with Boba, wanted him. So you ignored the flare of panic spiking in your chest like an errant flame.

This was Boba. He was safe.

He wanted you to feel protected, even now.

So you moved with him like you imagined water would flow, following his movements, letting him guide you. You ground against his length, eliciting a deep groan from the Daimyo, and dared to press kisses along his powerful jawline and down his neck. His own kisses were all encompassing, demanding, yet soft as you explored him, slowly lowering a wandering hand to his pants.

“Mesh’la,” Boba’s voice was impossibly gruff, yet direct enough to get your attention. You stopped your advancements, looking up at him with a frown. “You’re drunk. Don’t wanna make you do anything you’ll regret.”

“You’re not…I want this,” you pressed a kiss to the corner of his lip, anxiety worming it’s way into your chest. “Unless you don’t…”

Boba wrapped both of his arms around you and held you flush with his armored chest, amber gaze dark, locked on you.

“I want you, ad’ika.” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, the light touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Been a bit since I’ve been with someone. Wanna do it right.”

Heat flared in your cheeks and you looked away, swallowing hard, head still spinning.

“Yeah…it’s been some time for me, too.”

Boba’s fingers found your chin, gently lifting your face to meet his. As always, he bore his trademark sternness, brows lowered, gaze intense, as he seemed to observe you from a new lens.

“Your former partners…they didn’t care about you.” He spoke gently despite the severity of his expression, thumb gently caressing your throat, a reminder that there was no judgement - no shame.

And it hadn’t been posed as a question.

“Well,” you sighed, a weight in your chest resurfacing and threatening to pull you under. “No…”

He nodded, lips pursed in thought, thumb still stroking your neck.

“You deserve better,” he finally gave you a warm smile, a softness you hadn’t expected dancing in his eyes. “When the time comes, if you’ll have me, I’ll ensure you’re never left wanting again.”

Stars, his gentleness and caring words nearly made you want to cry. You managed to nod, still too overcome by the influx of emotions to speak. He gently rubbed your back, and you curled against him, held securely in his arms.

“We’re all fighting our pasts,” he kept his voice low, soft, soothing - similar to the way you’d been with him earlier. “We can learn to heal together.”

You nodded, tucking your chin against his neck, and closing your eyes with a soft sigh. He held you close in a comfortable silence, as if he understood more than you’d expected.

Every single day, you’d fought. Endured, to be strong. Struggled for everything you had, for the name you’d made for yourself and your clinic. Sacrificed so much for the animals you loved. And for the most part, you’d done it all alone. But now…perhaps you didn’t have to.

“I…” you finally spoke, albeit hesitantly - stars, how were you supposed to explain trauma? “Thank you…”

“Should be thanking you for giving an old bounty hunter a chance,” he held you close, resting his chin over your head in a gesture you swore was protective. “You’ve had a lot to drink. If you want that, let’s wait for a special occasion, hmm?”

“Okay.” You gripped his arm tighter, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Because I do want that. With you. I just…have my own demons to face.”

“We’ll face them together,” he ran a hand through your hair with a gentle caress.

You nodded, snuggling against him, a heaviness settling in your bones as exhaustion slowly took you over.

“C’mon little one, let’s get you home.” Boba’s voice rumbled sweetly through you, and you nodded, letting him gather you in his embrace.

-

By the time you made it back to the clinic, Boba helped you upstairs to your rooms, a hand at your back, ensuring you wouldn’t fall.

You were too tired to worry about the presentability of your home, letting him guide you to your bed without a single fleeting concern. Once you were nestled under your covers, he stood at your bedside like some kind of green armored guardian angel, a softness in his gaze that contradicted his powerful physique.

“Boba…” you wearily reached for him, words starting to slur. Damn, you were drunk. And exhausted. But for the first time in a while, you felt happy.

“What is it?” He raised a brow at you, gently taking your hand in his.

“Please…stay? Just…wanna be close.” You held onto his hand as tightly as you could. “You make me feel safe. Please?”

He was silent for a moment, and just as you began to worry he’d refuse, he reached up and fiddled with one of his pauldrons, removing the piece of armor with practiced ease. You watched him remove that legendary beskar that kept him safe, that marked his identity, all too aware of the implied trust in the moment.

The bed depressed with his weight as he joined you under the covers, clad in his undershirt and pants. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest, thundering heartbeat melodious to your ears.

“This okay?” His voice was soft, so achingly gentle it made you want to kiss him again.

“It’s perfect,” you twined your legs with his, feeling so warm and protected, your anxieties melting away. “Thank you.”

He hummed a response, a hand carding through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

“Goodnight, mesh’la.” His voice was gentle, soothing, as your consciousness faded to black. “You’re safe with me.”

#boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x reader #moth to a flame #boba fett #book of boba fett #my writing #daimyo boba fett #daddy boba fett #acatalystrising writes #writing #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fic #boba fett x veterinarian!reader #boba fett fluff #the book of boba fett #tbobf #star wars

[bobathirstaccount]

I’m obsessed with my AO3 stats this year… why idk, lol 🤓

My top 5 Boba Fett longfics ranked by hits on AO3 (all links AO3 links)

1. Book of Boba Fett: Footnotes on Love; words 13,167, hits 1,264

2. Stars Above; words 15,259, hits 758

3. The Dune Witch; words 19,553, hits 435

4. The Devil Moving; words 21,675, hits 408

5. Bloodlines; words 14,743, hits 305

Runner up: Mamihlapinatapai, words 8,079, hits 608

💗

#ao3 stats #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #boba fett fluff #boba fett smut #boba smut #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fic #long fic #reader insert #star wars reader insert #star wars x reader #long fanfic

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

CONGRATULATIONS!!! You deserve all those followers and more for having such a great blog with fantastic stories. I'm continually impressed with the ideas you develop and the worlds you create. I look forward to reading more from you!

For the prompts, I'd like 18. "You shouldn't be out here by yourself" and 24. "I'll love you until the stars turn cold" with Din, please!!

Thanks, sweetie! Love you!!

Thank you, bestie! A lot of this wouldn't have been possible without your constant support and beta reading. Love oo.

Enjoy a little slice of heaven with Din.

Our Dance

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Grogu always had a way of getting into trouble, it was bad enough he was so small, he could fit into the crevices of the Razor Crest with no problem and actually hide in the tiny compartments you had no hope of reaching, but that never seemed to stop him. And if the ramp was done, it was even worse. 

You ran outside in the cold and snatched him from the foot of snow that nearly encapsulated him. “Grogu, what are you doing? You know you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

You chatized him as though he were own, and truthfully that’s how you felt. From the moment you laid eyes on Grogu, there was a bond there. For all intents and purposes, he was your son. 

“It’s cold out here, sweetie. Don’t come out here on your own anymore, okay?”

Grogu simply tilted his head as he looked at you and purred as he nuzzled closer to you, “Yeah, you’re cold aren’t you?” You held him close and rubbed his back.

“Cyare, what are you doing out here?” Din walked over, wrapping the both of you in a hug, keeping you warm. 

“Our son wanted to explore. Found him out here by himself.”

Din shook his head as he tilted his helmet down to look at him, “Grogu, you know you shouldn’t be out here, by yourself. You have to listen to us buddy,” Din trailed his finger over his ear. “Let’s go in, cyare.”

“You fixed what was wrong with the hyperdrive?”

“I didn’t not fix it…” he offered. 

“Meaning it’ll work for a jump or two and then die.”

“Not if we head to Nevarro. Then it’ll be fine.”

You smirked, shaking your head, as you walked back into the ship. Grogu had fallen asleep in your arms, no doubt the cold had made him sleepy. You gently placed him in his hammock, making sure there were extra layers on top of him as you tucked him. Last thing you needed, what any of you needed was for one or all three of you to catch a cold. You closed the compartment and turned to see Din leaning against the closed ramp staring at you. His leg bent and bracing itself against the ramp.

“What?”

He smiled, although you couldn’t see it, he knew you felt it. “I … I just love you.”

You smirked as you nodded, “You’re saying this so I don’t yell at you about the hyperdrive.”

He chuckled as he moved closer to you, “I’m not saying it, so you don’t yell at me. I’m also not saying so you do.”

“So me not yelling is just an added bonus,” you offered as you walked to meet him.

“I would say that you being passionate about the safety of our family,” he smoothly offered as he wrapped his arms around you, “is one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

“Oh so you do enjoy being yelled at?” You tried not to laugh as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Who says I don’t enjoy hearing you scream, cyare?” He teased, as he tilted his helmet down to your ear, “Because I thoroughly enjoy that.”

You smacked his back at his innuendo, “Your son is in the next compartment, sleeping.”

“Oh I see, so now he’s just my son.”

“He’s your son, when he does something wrong, and mine when he does something good.”

“And when is he ours?”

“When I hold you in my arms like this”

“Then we should always stay like this” he hummed, slowly starting to sway you back and forth, a soft dance forming between the two of you.

“I love you” you offered as you looked into his visor, “I have since the moment you both entered my life.”

He gently brushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear, as he continued to sway you both, “I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, I just knew you were my heart.”

You rested your head on his beskar chest, feeling comforted by the strong armor, “I’ll love you until the stars turn cold, Din.”

“I’ll love you for much longer than that, cyare.” He held you close, shifting his helmet to the crook of your neck, wanting to smell the scent of your shampoo. Needing to be as close to you as possible, he almost lost you earlier, and that fear alone made it nearly impossible for him to pull away at that moment. He held you tighter as you both continued to sway to the beating of your own hearts.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

#star wars #jango fett #450 follower celebration #Star Wars fic roulette #SW Fic Roulette #jango x f ! reader #450 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION #Follower Celebration #Star Wars Fic Roulette #Fic Roulette #star wars the clone wars #star wars: the clone wars #starwars #pick your character #pick your prompt #the clone wars #the Mandalorian #Andor #Book of Boba Fett #original trilogy #Obi-wan #Ahsoka #The Bad Batch #star wars prequels #star wars sequel trilogy #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din djarin

[cissyenthusiast010155]

~𝓕𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭 (𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷) & (𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓑𝓸𝓫𝓪 𝓕𝓮𝓽𝓽) 𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 1

#appearance appreciation #fennec shand #fennec Shand fanfiction #fennec Shand did #fennec Shand fluff #fennec Shand smut #fennec shand x reader #the mandolorian smut #the mandolorian #the book of boba fett #book of boba fett #book of boba fett fanfiction #book of boba fett fic #ming na wen #Ming na wen character #Ming na wen x reader #star wars fandom #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars series #star wars fic #star wars x reader #star wars tv

[oliviajdjarin]

Din Djarin: Good

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: He was the only one you ever told your weakness to, and yet he wasn’t good enough to shield you from it.

off-canon version of Season 2 Episode 3 titled “The Heiress.”

Warnings: Din is insecure, reader is also insecure, Din is described as taller than reader, reader almost drowns, din is a simp, reader gets checked out, jealousy, coughing up water, descriptions of a neck snapping, chest compressions, but a happy ending.

A/N: Thank you for your request @ione-23. I really hope this is what you were looking for.

Din Djarin Masterlist

(gif gotten from Pinterest)

Of all the words that Din Djarin could describe himself with, good would not be one of them.

He had killed people. Good people. And for what? A couple of credits? A warm meal? One less creak in the Crest’s walls?

He wasn’t good. He was a surviver.

Until he met you.

The day you agreed to be his partner, you unlocked something deep inside his chest, deeper than the kid could manage to worm himself into, and he started to see himself as more…neutral.

He wasn’t good, but he wasn’t bad enough to make you leave, and that was good enough for him.

It was scary, the lengths at which he would throw himself to keep you with him. By his side.

He didn’t know it was possible to crave another person, but you had him entranced by not just your looks and mind, but by your heart.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that kid,” you said to him after he explained just how much work getting the baby back to his own kind would be. “And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Relief had flooded him, as well as another feeling that had his brain screaming to pry himself away from you before he let it take root.

You had taught him how to trust someone, talk to someone, need someone, and you had shown him that that wasn’t a weakness at all.

Unless, of course, the people you were trusting were half a dozen Quarren fishermen who were all too eager to take the three of you on their boat.

He should have trusted his gut, but you had managed to pry that open too.

“It’ll be fine,” you had assured him. “Not everyone in the galaxy is actively plotting against us. Some may actually want to be helpful.”

It was the way you had looked into his eyes as you spoke, resting your palms on his chest plate so he was forced to look down at your perfect face, that really got him. You could ask the world of him, to throw everything he had ever been and ever will be away for you, and he would find himself saying yes. Without a doubt in his mind.

“They will take a us to a Mandalorian. What better chance would we have of finding one without them?”

You spoke to him like you did late at night on the Crest: softly, intimately, and with understanding in your eyes, and it weakened his knees.

“Okay,” he responded, and his stomach fluttered at the way your eyes glowed.

“Okay,” you said, and walked through the cantina to tell the Quarren his boat would have two extra passengers.

He watched as the fisherman’s eyes raked down your body as you walked, and the flutter in his stomach quickly turned to nausea.

He trusted you, probably too much, but he couldn’t shake the pit of dread in his stomach. Something was off about this, but he forced himself to swallow it down and ignore it.

He trusted you. That should have been enough.

~*~

Din could feel the thickness of the salt in the air through his helmet, and the constant movement of the crew members made him more than uneasy. He kept his eye on the water to steady himself, but he kept an eye on both you and the kid through his peripheral vision.

It was the only way he could continue to breathe.

“Hey,” you said beside him, and he looked to his left to meet your gaze. You always had a way of finding his eyes under all that armor.

“It’s alright, we’re almost there.”

You squeezed his leather covered hand and smiled at him softly before walking over to the kid’s pram. The kid’s arms waved in excitement, and he released a cry of joy.

If there was one thing that could undo him more than anything, it was seeing you with that baby.

He felt himself smile at the sight of you tickling the baby’s belly and the sound of your combined laughs.

His Clan.

The tightness in his muscles and the thickness in his throat eased for one precious moment, before the voice of a Quarren filled his ears.

“You ever see a momacore eat?”

The male leaned against the side of the boat as he spoke, spreading his legs and broadening his shoulders as he did so.

It was that movement that spurred Din to make his six-foot frame that much more obvious. The male wasn’t even half his width, and a picture of the male’s neck squeezed between his leathered hands while he gasped for air—

“The child might take an interest,” the male continued, “or the lady.”

The lady.

His lady.

“Sure. Why not,” you replied with an awkward sounding laugh, and led the kid’s pram to the edge of the water-hole.

“You comin’ Mando?” you questioned softly, and tilted your head slightly to the side.

He swallowed. Your head always did that when you asked him a question. It was endearing enough to center himself, and he exhaled deeply.

He nodded, and the corner of your mouth lifted into a genuine smile.

“Come on over,” the fisherman said and gestured to the massive hole in the center of the ship. The creature inside had to have been bigger than Din had ever seen. “Get a good look, let the kid see.”

You stepped closer, peering over the ledge, and the wooden floor creaked under Din’s weight as he reached for your forearm.

“Hey,” he said, sharper than he intended, “be careful.”

He hated the flicker of fear in your eyes.

“I will,” you responded, with understanding once again lacing your voice.

He loosened his grip on you, and let his hand drop to the side.

Relax.

The Quarren brought a net full of fish over the edge of the water, and dropped them all into the center. The water began to bubble with white foam, and both you and the kid leaned a bit closer to see the creature finally show itself.

“She must be hungry,” the male said, and the child cooed in curiosity.

“Oftentimes we will feed her in the early morning, but we missed that cause we were going out of port—”

Din’s body moved before his brain did.

One second, he was watching you and the kid be viciously shoved into the water and instantly swallowed by a mass of teeth and fangs.

And the next, he was diving in after you, with words you had spoken to him months ago as the only sound in his mind.

“I have no weaknesses, Djarin,” you mumbled to him. The flashes of hyperspace coated your skin like a blanket, nearly knocking Din from his feet.

No matter how many times you said his name, in any variation, he would never get used to it.

“None? None at all?” he replied with a rare chuckle.

“Nope. Nothing,” you respond, and he ignored the way your dimples were shining. “Except water. I hate water.”

“Water?”

“Yes. I never learned how to swim. It comes with living on Tattooine.”

He grunted in acknowledgement.

“If you ever tell anyone that, Din Djarin, I’ll steal the Crest for myself and take the kid with me.”

“Point taken,” he replied, “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

“You’d survive.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

The memory was pulled away from him as he hit the frigid water, and swam as far down as he could.

All there was was blackness and abyss, and the weight of his armor forced him to swim back to the surface.

“Except water. I hate water.”

He sucked in a breath and grasped the cage as tightly as he could to keep himself upright. The heaviness of the beskar threatened to pull him down with you.

He had never felt so panicked in his life.

“I never learned how to swim.”

You were down there. The kid was down there. Drowning. Alone in the stomach of maker knows what.

He wanted to join you, or at least take your place.

The Quarren began hitting his hands with their fishing poles to try to get him to sink down with you, and for the first time in a long time, Din Djarin had no idea what to do.

If he stayed where he was, you and the kid would drown, but if he swam to get you, it was highly likely that all three of you would drown. His heart pounded so loud that a thought as logical as that drained him.

His arms ached. The poles hurt and the weight of his body was too much.

Would the infamous Mandalorian resort to begging? You had already been under for too long, and the Quarren were not letting up.

He would. In a heartbeat. He couldnt lose you. Now that he got a taste of what being happy feels like, he couldn’t take the fall of going back. He wouldn’t survive it.

“You’d survive.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

He brought just enough air into his lungs to bring his pleas to his lips, offering the males anything they wanted, but sudden bursts of blaster fire began to echo in the chamber. Grunts and shouts continued as the cage opened, and Din was pulled from his watery grave.

“Save—save them,” he choked to the stranger. “Save her. My child—”

“Don’t worry brother,” the woman replied, “we’ve got this.”

A Mandalorian. He was speaking to a Mandalorian.

It was frightening how little he cared.

His eyes were glued to the water as another female dove in after you, fearlessly. More blaster shots rang out from the black water, and the woman who had spoke to him kept her hand pressed on his shoulder to keep him still.

Every creak and rock of the boat threatened to send him over the edge.

You needed him, and he wasn’t there. He was sitting and watching.

Useless. He was utterly useless.

Suddenly, a sound similar to an engine roared from under the water, and the female shot into the sky with both you and the kid in her arms. Luckily the kid had closed his pram before being swallowed by the monster, but you didn’t have such luck.

The woman landed roughly and laid you down to rip open the child’s pram. He cooed at Din when he saw him again, and half of Din’s heart felt full again.

The other half was laying on the cold, wet ground, not breathing.

“Cyare,” he mumbled, and ripped the Mandalorian’s iron grip off of his shoulder. His soaking boots stomped across the floor as he ran to you and fell to his knees at your side.

“She’s not breathing,” the woman stated, and Din’s eyes were locked on your solemn face.

He could pretend you were sleeping, that you both were sleeping, and that he’d wake up to you only feet away from him. Happy. Healthy.

“Come on,” he pleaded to no one but himself. “Wake up. Wake up Y/N.”

He rocked your body side to side, desperate for any movement or intake of breath, but there was nothing.

“We have to do chest compressions. Now,” the woman said sternly, and placed her hands over your chest.

“Don’t touch her,” Din responded, and the woman went as still as death. “I’m doing it.”

The woman stepped away hesitantly, and Din pressed his palms against you gently.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Please don’t let me hurt you,” he mumbled. The difference in his tone with you was apparent. He sucked in a shallow breath and pressed down.

The intake of air you let out was like music, and it was as if he had entered his body again.

You lurched forward, coughing up buckets and buckets of water, and Din stroked down your spine as you did. He could hear how painful it was for you.

“Breathe cyare,” he whispered. “Just breathe. You’re okay.”

He took deep breaths with you, guiding you, and you held tightly to his forearm. Your eyes were glassy and your lungs were not yet cleared, but you were alive.

As your breaths evened out, you wiped your nose and looked up at him. Your eyes trailed over his helmet, and you brought your free hand up to his neck.

“You jumped in after me,” you said, a small smirk on your face, and ran your fingers over the soaked fabric of his undershirt. “Didn’t you?”

He nodded slowly, and let you press your cold fingers against his pulse point. The skin there was sticky from the water, but it was warm from his body heat. It sent a chill down his arms, and his eyes fluttered shut.

You needed to feel his skin and his heartbeat to know that he was really there, that you didn’t drown. You were alive, and you needed him.

Your eyes moved to the figures standing behind him, and widened at their familiar looking helmets.

“D—Mando, how—”

“No,” he replied, and grasped the back of your head. “Stay here, just for a minute. With me.”

He pulled you closer to him and rested his forehead against yours. You flinched at first, likely feeling the burn of the cold metal, but you relaxed into it and placed your hands on his chest.

He wanted you to look at him, only him, not them, and you smiled into the embrace.

He knew you knew what he was doing, and he knew the Mandalorians behind him knew what he was doing, but he couldn’t have cared less.

He wasn’t good, or kind, or deserving, but he had you, and that was enough.

“My Y/N,” he mumbled, and you hummed.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Tag list: (I have not written for Din in a while, so If your tag is either not here or messed up I do apologize. Id love to add new people :)

@leahkenobi @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @em---r @just-a-sewer-goblin @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @darth-voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @punkiwiki. @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin imagine #din djarin x you #mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars #din djarin headcanon #din djarin angst #din djarin smut #book of boba fett #obi wan kenobi