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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months

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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.”

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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@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @beebeechaos

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daimyosprincess · 3 months

Text

AN HONEST DAY'S WORK

—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.

—WORD COUNT: 9k

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

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, contractor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), reader described as having hair, Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖

Divider by the @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery.

While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation.

Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.

It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.

Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.

It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world.

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.

Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter.

With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard.

“See something you like, princess?”

Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”

He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”

The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.

You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.”

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.

Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.

Maybe…

You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head.

“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-”

You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.

The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.

“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”

Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”

If only he knew just how good I can be.

The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.

Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.

Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.

For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.

Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm.

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”

Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?”

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.

“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you?

Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.”

And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.

“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.

Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.

When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb.

You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort.

“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?”

“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook.

Damn him and his honorable ways.

Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”

First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread.

Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”

The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.

In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.

“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”

“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.

You can’t give him your permission fast enough.

Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”

Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?”

Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.

Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.”

An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.

A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit.

Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.

As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.

Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”

As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body.

Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”

In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.

Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.

“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”

“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter.

“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”

Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!

“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”

You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat.

Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…

Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.

You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”

Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”

The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.

Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.

“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”

He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”

You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.”

You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers.

Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.

“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.

As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”

With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”

Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues.

“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”

Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.

“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”

You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.

“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin.

“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?”

You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face.

“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”

As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”

He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.

Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.

“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.

“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.

“Four… three…”

Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.

Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core.

“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.”

His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.

The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.

“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…”

Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.

Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint.

You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.

I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-

“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”

The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light.

The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.

You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.

Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength.

Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.

Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.

The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.

Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.

“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”

“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”

It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.”

He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”

You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?

“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.

“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”

“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…”

Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.

The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?

Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”

Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath.

Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”

You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.”

Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you.

Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”

The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”

He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.”

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.

Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”

Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”

Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment.

“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”

Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw.

Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?

Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.”

He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.

When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.

You pout. “So you have to go?”

“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”

“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”

Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.

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

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maybege · 5 months

Text

Pleasure

Summary: You get dared by your old school friends to ask a stranger to play with your tits.

Pairing: dad’s friend!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, older man/younger woman, implied age gap, alcohol consumption, sex with strangers, coming untouched, semi-public intimacy, dom!Boba, sub!Reader, nipple play, dirty talk, little bit of humiliation, Reader is not described but it is mentioned that she does not wear a bra at some point

Alrighty, alrighty. Okay, alright. Are we ready? Like are we really, truly, ready for this? This is obviously set in the dad’s friend!Boba AU which is more of a sandbox AU for me to play in. This is their first meeting (obv) and it is based on another idea I had and I thought it would fit perfectly. Please do let me know what you think and if you like it and if so, what you liked and all that good stuff! Maybe I will write another part or another story set in this AU.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

A year ago, you had never thought you would drown your sorrows at a house party of a person whose name you did not even know in the town you had grown up in with people you had not seen since high school. But here you were, drowning out your disappointment, your sadness and your frustration by the way of loud techno beats and unnaturally coloured alcohol.

“All right,” Marissa passed the hot pink shots she had gotten to you and Chants, though her eyes did not leave yours, “You want a dare?”

For a second you regretted ever having asked her for a dare (“Something to liven up the party,” you had said half-jokingly after the conversation with your two oldest high school friends had come to an awkwardly silent end) but then you also remembered the fun time you had with them in your childhood bedroom, prank calling the neighbours before playing fuck marry killer with the seniors at school.

That was an eternity ago now but it had all seemed to light then. Your happiness did not have an expiration date then and the dream to make it out of your small town by the lake and into the big cities of the opposite coast had kept you company every night.

You hadn’t known yet that your dream would fail.

“Ask any random person here to play with your tits.”

Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your face must have shown your shock at the task because her pink-coloured lips (a perfect match to her equally pink hair) pulled up in a mischievous grin. Marissa always had been the joker of your group, you should have known better than to think that the years would have changed anything about that.

“Marissa!” Chants gasped, “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, calm down,” she waved him off, “It’s not like she has to do it. But we're in a house full of strangers and stars know it's been ages since you got laid” – you hated how right she was about that – “So let’s not pretend like I'm not doing you a favour.”

“I’ll do it,” you heard yourself say, steel in your voice as you threw back the sickly sweet drink. There was nothing worse than the artificial strawberry flavour.

“It’s not like I know anyone here anyway,” you stated, looking around the giant living room you were standing in. The villa (because there was no other word to describe the building you were in) was absolutely packed with what seemed to be the entire party population of your town and the few surrounding beach towns as well. It was all stark white walls and cement floors and floor-length windows and furniture that looked more like art than actually something to sit on. Only the colourful lights and (several) mirror balls hued the entire space in ever-changing colours.

No wonder whoever lived here threw all these parties. The place must seem pretty depressing otherwise.

With encouraging whoop whoop!s and You can do it!s you left Marissa and Chants behind and wandered through the dancing, yelling, drinking crowd that took up the entire ground floor. Until you spotted a figure leaning against one of the doorways to the stairway.

Your feet changed your course until you stood in front of him. He was older than you, though certainly not the oldest guest in attendance. (That would be Chants’ 94-year-old grandmother who had a reputation for attending the best raves in the province.)

But what struck you most was how unbothered he looked. How in control. He was dressed in dark pants and a black button-up, his sleeves were rolled up too, revealing strong veiny forearms that had your eyes lingering longer than they should have. He held a glass in his hand and when his eyes landed on you, making your way towards him, you imagined that his grip twitched just the slightest bit.

“Hi,” you said when you finally stood in front of him.

The main raised his eyebrows, “You lost there?”

You pressed your shoulders back, “No. You are the one

His lips lifted in a smirk and it took our breath away for a moment, how handsome he was, and your courage faltered. But you

“My friend dared me to ask someone to play with my tits.”

If your words caught him off guard, the man did not show it.

“So?” he smiled before taking a sip from the amber liquid, “That wasn’t a question.”

Was he really going to make you say it? Your ears burned with shame and something else as you looked at him. But he simply cocked his head as if to say I am waiting. And you somehow found that this was not a man you wanted to leave waiting.

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “Will you play with my tits?”

“No,” he said easily and finished his drink, “Congratulations, your dare is fulfilled.”

He turned to leave and you surprised yourself when your hand landed on his thick arm. He froze, as did you, and when his eyes met yours, it felt like a switch flipped in your head.

“No, wait, I –“ you paused, “I actually want it.”

His body faced yours again and stars was he broad as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Stars what are you doing, trying to convince a man to touch you.”

“Ask me again, then, little one,” he rumbled and the pet name had your belly fluttering. Though maybe it was not your belly, maybe it was something else …

“Will you play with my tits, please?” you added the last word quietly, your pulse thrumming as you avoided his eyes. The bass reverberated in your chest and you tried to even out your breathing. This was fine. Everything was fine.

For the first time since you started talking, his eyes left your face and roamed down your body. Over your tight jeans and the loose but not quite opaque top you had chosen to wear. You found yourself wanting to impress him, wanting to please him and you were almost completely sure he would reject you again when he opened his mouth.

“You really want that?”

You nodded, too shy, too embarrassed to say anything more. It had been ages since you had been touched and something about the way he held himself made you feel like he knew how to touch you.

“Good,” he rumbled, his voice dropping even lower and causing a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You watched as he set his glass down on the side table, “But not here out in the open.”

“No,” you shook your head, agreeing with him, though you were a little scared to admit that you would have let him. You would have let him pull you into a corner somewhere and strip you down to nothing and do anything he wanted to you. You would have let him expose you however he saw fit.

Stars, I really need to get laid.

The man brought his hand around you, settling it on your lower back as he led you away from the improvised dance floor. There were throngs of people everywhere but they grew sparser the higher up the stairs he led you. Until you arrived in a hallway that was completely abandoned save for a couple that seemed too busy to make out to notice you. And then he continues, leading you around a corner and suddenly you were alone and the lights were dim and the music only a muted sound in the background.

“Do you live here?” you asked, nervously looking around. What if someone caught you?

“No,” he said, his voice calm as his hand landed on your hip, “but I know the owner. No one will disturb us here.”

You nodded and took another deep breath. That sounded good. That sounded safe.

“Do you still want this?

It but you were grateful. You nodded, your heart racing. And your pussy too.

“I need to hear words, little one,” he said with a crooked smile, still not touching you save for the hand on your hip that seemed to burn through the layers of clothes.

“Yes, I still want this.”

“Want what?”

Oh, now he was just teasing you!

“I want you to play with my tits, please.”

Shame and arousal had your cheeks burning but it was worth it when he hummed, his hand inching under the hem of your shirt. “Good girl.”

Oh.

Oh, that was new. That was lovely. That was something that had your eyes flutter and your pussy get surprisingly wet.

“You liked that,” he grunted, “You like praise.”

It was not a question and so you did not answer. The wet patch in your panties that grew by the second was answer enough. Though you could not shake the feeling that he liked you liking praise. Which made it all the better.

“Lift your shirt for me,” he instructed, tongue running over his lips, “You wear a bra?”

You nodded, your hands trembling as you lifted the soft fabric of your favourite going-out blouse. It was black and just the lightest bit sheer and breezy which made it the perfect sexy thing to wear in the warmer temperatures. The air wasn’t cold – it was the height of summer after all – but your nipples pebbled, still, beneath the lace of your bra.

Big hands reached for your tits, cupping them in his palms before lightly squeezing. His touches were softer, first, before they grew firm and had you squirming against the wall. Your breath got quicker already as you thought about the fact that you did not even know this man and he had you half-naked in the corridor of another stranger’s home.

A year ago, you never would have done something like that.

“Wh-What are you doing?” you whined when he still only squeezed your tits, his fingers gently digging into the soft flesh, “Why aren’t you touching me?”

“You asked me to play with your tits,” he replied steadily, his thumb rubbing over the lace that covered your nipple, “That is exactly what I am doing. Playing with your pretty tits.”

“Don’t you want me to take off my shirt?” you asked, confusion clear in your voice as you tried to shift your hands over your shoulders.

“Nah, little one,” he shook his head, a smile on his lips that made your breath hitch, “You are going to hold up your shirt for me. You want me to play with your tits, you got to do something for that, right?”

You nodded, chest heaving as you leaned your head back against the wall. “Right.”

The older man continued his ministrations, gently massaging your tits, pushing and pulling, making them bounce, teasing your nipples through the lace with the pads of his thumbs or his blunt fingernails. You had never been this turned on in your life.

His finger teased under the scalloped edge of your bra, the touch of his bare skin on yours driving you insane.

When he finally pulled down the cups of your bra, baring you to his eyes, you could have wept from relief. “Arch your back for me,” he murmured, sounding so focused and so in control. You did, doing your best to get your chest closer to his hands.

There was no shame now, now apprehension about what you were doing. This man seemed to know exactly what he was doing and you could not help but trust him.

“You have beautiful tits, you know that?” he asked casually as his fingers rolled your nipples, sending little pangs of pleasure through your entire body, “When was the last time somebody properly paid attention to you, hm?”

Too long ago.

And that was what you told him but he pulled your nipples sharply, “Specifics,” he instructed you lowly as you tried to keep your knees from buckling at the sheer sensation this man caused in you.

“Few – few months,” you tried to think feverishly, “Se-seven months. No, nine months.”

“Nine months,” he tsked, his thumb flicking over your pebbled nipple, “What a shame. What a waste. You deserve to have

Not knowing what to say to that, you simply leant into his touch. He expertly rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger before pulling on it ever so slightly, making you whimper. The mix of gentle and rough had you dizzy and wet and you swore none of your eyes had ever made you feel this way.

Stars you did not even know you could feel this way.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked.

Your eyes flew open and you looked at him in surprise. But the older man simply returned your gaze, never pausing in his ministrations and he seemed serious in his questions. He really wanted to touch you more.

“Yes, please,” you nodded feebly, as if the way you were melting in his hands was not answer enough.

“Good girl,” he praised you again, a smirk on his face, “So polite.”

You squirmed, pressing your thighs together to get some sort of friction to your aching clit. He lowered his head to your chest, his warm breath washing over your skin and you whined, needing him more and more. But he did not let himself be rushed, no. His finger pulled on your nipple again until your whine turned into a gasp. Only then did he let you go and carefully closed his mouth around you. He sucked on you, ever so gently, with just a hint of teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh and you swore your vision went white for just a moment.

He must have noticed the way your entire body spasmed just for him because he pulled away, a glint in his eyes that told you he was far from done with you.

“I wonder if I can make you come just from this,” he murmured against your chest, “Just playing with you until your gorgeous pussy drips all on her own,” he lightly sucked on your nipple, “You want me to try?”

Speaking seemed like the last thing you would be capable of so you nodded, your heavy breaths echoing in the dark hallway.

“Answer me with words, little one,” he admonished you, pinching your nipple tightly and another wave of wetness rushed down your legs. You wouldn’t be able to sit down anywhere today without leaving a wet patch, that was for sure.

“Yes,” you gasped out, “Please make me come.”

“With pleasure,” he grinned, “You just lean back and keep holding up your shirt for me, yeah? I will take care of the rest.”

And he did. He licked and sucked and pinched until you were a dripping, moaning mess. Your hips had a mind of their own as you started to move against him, trying to grind against the considerable bulge in his pants that had your mouth watering, but his hand was strong on your hip, pinning you back against the wall.

“You are going to come only from this,” he instructed darkly and you nodded. The yes sir almost slipping out of you. You felt like you were on cloud nine, floating above everyone and everything. The dim light, the loud bass that echoed throughout the house, hell, even the sound of partying people two stories below – it all added to the thrill of this stranger sucking on your tit while rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

It felt like you could not breathe, like your whole body was pulled taut with pleasure and he was the only one who could release you. Who could give you release.

“You are such a good girl for me,” he grunted in your ear, “I wish you could see yourself. Absolutely depraved right now. Presenting your tits for a man you don’t know anything about except that he is the one that is going to make you come.”

“I know you would have let me do this downstairs, too,” he added, “But here's the thing: I don’t share. And I don’t think any of these boys even deserve the sight of your pretty tits like this, now, do they?”

You shook your head. “Only you,” you mumbled feverishly, your fingers tightening their grip on the fabric, “Only you, sir.”

His groan was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. “That’s right,” he pressed a hard kiss against your neck, “Only I see you like this. Only I get to see how pretty you look when you come from this.”

For a moment, you debated telling him that you did not think you would come. That you were so turned on – more than ever before – and that what he did felt great but you were not sure if it would actually make you come. But then he bit down on your nipple and pulled the other one and your whole world reeled.

You came. You actually came.

And you did not stop coming for what felt like a solid two minutes. You were shaking, gasping, and at some point, you must have let go of your shirt because you were gripping his broad shoulders with all of your might as if they anchored you to gravity.

“Holy shit,” you brought out when you finally regained control of everything, “Holy fucking shit.”

The stranger had let go of your tits. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Strange enough, this felt way more intimate than what you had done before but you could not bring yourself to worry. Not when he smelled so good and the post-orgasm fatigue set in.

“Good fucking girl,” he praised you, his eyes soft and warm as he looked you over, “Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded weakly and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. You were still completely out of breath and your pussy pulsed when you saw him adjusting himself in his slacks. You wanted to touch him.

You wanted to be touched by him.

But you were scared, too. Shocked, mostly. At what you had just done. Had you really let a stranger just make you come in a house full of people?

“Let's get you some water,” he murmured as he helped you straighten out your clothes, “And then off to your friends you go.”

You nodded numbly, legs shaking and still unsteady on your feet. But he helped you, one hand on your lower back and the other supporting your arm as you made your way down the stairs. The louder the music got, the more you felt like you had just returned to reality from some sort of dream. Some perfect, delicious, very hot dream.

Returning to the living room turned dance floor, neither of you spoke and you simply accepted the glass of cool water he got you. “Drink it,” he instructed you softly, “And make sure you get home safe tonight.”

When you found Marissa and Chants again, you were still torn between pure shock at what you had just done and grief at not having asked him for his name.

Your nipples were sore the next day but you still would have done anything to have that man play with you again. Maybe you could have asked him to spend the night at his place, letting him fuck you seven ways ‘till Sunday. If he had made you come this hard just from playing with your chest, you wanted to find out what he could do if he had you all to himself for a whole night.

Still, you stayed in bed until well past noon, trying to avoid the reality that had seemed to be suspended for just a moment last night.

It was unlike you and, to be honest, you were a little scared of your forwardness. Of your courage. But it had been rewarded in the best ways and finally, it felt like maybe you really could start fresh. Like maybe this was the moment you needed to gain back the trust in yourself.

You could do things!

You did not have to have everything figured out right now, you just needed the courage to somehow move forward.

And if you could ask a stranger for intimacy at a party, then moving forward seemed like no effort at all.

You skipped a bra, not wanting to subject your chest to more sensation than necessary, and instead opted for a long flowy summer dress and a light cardigan over top. It would give you some coverage, still, so it would not be awkward for your sister’s fiancée to face you.

Looking in the mirror, you felt like your new self. Like maybe you had needed yesterday to get back some of your courage, some of the spirit that had made the past year so fun before everything had just crumbled around you.

“Oh honey, there you are,” your mother greeted you as you came down the stairs, “You came home late last night. Was it a good party, then?”

You knew she was worried and you knew she tried her best to give you the privacy you needed. After all, you weren’t a child anymore. You were a grown woman who had to move back to her parents across the country after losing her job. It was an unfamiliar situation for you all and you appreciated her effort at making you feel like a roommate more than a child.

“It was,” you replied, grabbing a slice of fruit, “It was nice seeing some people from school again. It is like nothing changed.”

“Oh, you and your change,” she tutted good-naturedly, swatting your hand away as you reached for another slice of orange, “That’s for after lunch. It's almost ready.”

You glanced at the clock. “That’s early.”

“Your father has some friends over,” she explained, “From work. They’re going golfing this afternoon so I thought that is the perfect opportunity for an early lunch.”

Thank the stars for your father and his friends because you were starving.

“Go and say hi, honey,” she shooed you out of the kitchen and you smiled, your bare feet hitting the cold tiles of the hallway, “And you can tell them to set the table.”

You found your dad and his friends on the patio, soaking up the warm summer air.

“There you are, hon,” he greeted you with a smile and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi, dad. Mom says lunch’s almost ready.”

“Ah,” he slapped his palms on his thighs before standing up, “You know what that means, boys! Time to set the table.”

One of your dad’s friends stood up. George, you remembered. He had lived down the street ever since you could remember and his kids were good friends with your sister. “It's been ages,” he said, a genuine smile on his face. “Look at how you’ve grown!”

You were pretty sure you hadn’t changed that much since graduating college but you were not about to correct him. He meant well, you knew.

Your father paused, “Oh I am sorry. Everyone, this is my eldest daughter, fresh back from the other end of the world.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not the end of the world,” you corrected him gently, “Just the other side of the country.”

And what wouldn’t you give to be back there right now.

The men all chuckled and you paused when you heard a familiar voice. You ran your eyes over the mostly familiar faces, faces you had known since childhood or at least from the pictures your parents posted regularly on Facebook. Faintly you could hear your dad introduce them all again – George from accounting, of course, then there was Paul and Obi-Wan and James (an absolute perv as you and your sister had determined years ago) and not to forget Bail Organa.

But it was the newest face, the face that was supposed to be unfamiliar, that made your heart freeze for a scary few seconds before it started racing so fast you thought you might throw up.

“Boba Fett,” he said, holding out an all too familiar hand. A hand that had spent considerable time playing with your tits just last night.

“Boba is the CFO after the merger,” your dad introduced the man, “Recently moved here from – where was it again, Boba?”

“Tatooine,” he replied without taking his eyes off you.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you heard yourself say, his hand closing around yours. His grip was gentle but firm. And warm. You could feel the callouses on his fingertips, the ones that had made him playing with you so fucking delicious. Your nipples hardened under the soft fabric of your dress and you prayed that he did not notice.

“Believe me,” he smiled, though his eyes said so much more than the usual pleasantries when they fell to your chest for a fraction of a second, “The pleasure is all mine.”

#maybege writes #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #smut

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sleepingsun501 · 5 months

Text

Good Morning, Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!reader

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

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI)

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

Word Count: 2k

Ao3 link

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

Good Morning, Princess

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Together, baby. Cum with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

________

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

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drawingdroid · 5 months

Text

Boba Fett x Medic Fem Reader Imagine

Smut | 198 words |

Prompts:

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

117 "Your wish is my command."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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firstofficerwiggles · 21 days

Note

Hi Wiggles, I absolutely LOVED your spicy Boba message. May we have another spicy one, please? Where he’s feeling very pent up and frustrated from being away from his princess for so long due to hunting a high priced yet strategic merchandise?

thank you 🥹🥹🥹🥹

We can alway have more spicy Boba! He is one of my favorites to write, especially when he’s pent up and extra thirsty for you. 18+ only under the cut

My Princess,

Were you trying to kill me with that last holophoto? Because you came damn close. Oh but you look incredible in that lacy get-up all splayed across our bed like that. I’m sure it will come as no surprise that you had me all hard and needy and begging your photo for relief in no time at all. Forget what I said about almost dying, please send me more pics like that, I’m happy to risk my health if it means seeing you looking so gorgeous. I love knowing what’s waiting for me at home and I’m doing everything I can to find this blasted bounty so I can get back to you. I want to get back between those beautiful soft thighs of yours, back to where my hands can peel that lace from every curve, and where my lips can finally kiss every perfect inch of your body. I say ‘peel’ that lace away, but I’ll be honest, in the state I’m in, I’ll be ripping that lacy thing right off you. But don’t worry, beautiful, I’ll buy you another one… just so I can rip that one off too. What can I say? I’m a passionate man and I can't wait too much longer. I’m looking at your photo again. You know you’re the most exquisite woman in the galaxy. Those shining blue eyes, that cute nose, and those delicious lips of yours are an intoxicating combination. You’ve got me hooked and all I want is more. You better clear your schedule for when I return cause there is no way I’m letting you out of that bed for at least a week. I’ll need at least that much time so my hands and lips can explore you to the absolute fullest. As for the rest of me, let’s just say it’s going to take me several rounds before I can quench my thirst for you, and even then you know it’s only temporary. My sweet princess, I’m going to show you just how much I burn for you as I let this desire consume us both. And then I’m certain I won’t be the only one begging for more. Until then, maybe this photo of me absolutely lusting after you will keep you entertained.

All my love,

Boba

Hee hee! I'll leave it up to your imagination as to what type of photo Boba sent

#boba fett #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett blurb #character message

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thirsty-boba-fett-posts · 11 months

Note

i dunno if it'll be a big task for you, but will we ever get a daddy daimyo nsfw alphabet?

I cribbed this alphabet template from @the-coldest-goodbye

I’ve never actually written one of these before but I do love an easy-breezy prompt so let’s gooooo!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You’re a brat. He’s a brat tamer. In fact he’s THE brat tamer. Boba Fett knows that brat taming is a fine art and that good aftercare is essential. The way he sees it, best practice is to punish behavior he wants to extinguish and reward behavior he wants you to repeat. And his rewards are always doled out in equal or greater measure to his punishments. He knows that you need to be held closely, praised in a low, soothing voice, and fed especially rich and delicious foods. If called for, there will be a bath, a message with warm scented oils, or medicated salve.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his broad chest and muscular forearms because you seem especially fond of resting your head on his chest and in his arms after sex.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - Boba Fett is as ass and thighs man. The thicker, the better. He likes a big round booty and thick jiggly thighs. He likes dimpled, supple flesh on a generally meaty girl.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves coming inside of you. He’s quite possessive and knowing that you’re walking around with his cum dripping from between your thighs gives him a sense of ownership.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you wanted to pursue a romantic or sexual dynamic with Fennec, he would not hesitate to say yes. His relationship with Fennec is platonic, but rooted in a deep sense of trust and understanding. He knows that Fennec would guard your body, mind, and heart. She is the only person with whom he would ever consider sharing you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows. He knows. Boba Fett has been around the Galaxy a time or two and felt the warmth of many beds. He’s grateful that he has so much experience, all the better to pleasure you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It’s a toss up between mating press and having you bent over. On the one hand, he loves being so close to you and watching your face as he pounds you senseless. On the other, he does love himself some backshots.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

There are moments between the two of you that elicit a chuckle from him - sex is sometimes unintentionally funny. He believes that above all, it’s meant to be enjoyed. He does take your pleasure very seriously, but the act itself is a time to be loose and relaxed and vulnerable with each other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The sarlacc did what sarlaccs are gonna do - digest their prey. Not much of his body hair remains, and what little does is rather fine and downy from integumentary damage. He is unselfconscious about the state of his body hair and enjoys you in whatever state you feel most confident.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

During sex, Boba Fett is at his most vulnerable physically and emotionally. He feels completely at your mercy, especially when he’s inside of you and allowing himself to enjoy the experience of you and your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Now that he has you, he feels no need. Your body feels so much more satisfying than his own hand, and you’re so willing when it comes to sex. Much of the time you’re the one who initiates intimate encounters, and in that regard he likes letting you take the lead.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He genuinely enjoys brat taming because he knows that your wily behavior is just a defense mechanism and that a good hard spanking, some fucking, and some snuggles have a therapeutic affect. He also gets a great deal of satisfaction from restraining you, especially when you’re acting out or being sassy. Restraint is a form of reassurance and he knows that you need reassurance from time to time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the safety of his private chambers, but foreplay can take place anywhere - the throne room, the kitchen, the hangar, his ship…

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any time you seek him out for comfort or affection. Again, he LOVES taming a brat - but when you come to him soft and gooey and needy, he melts.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won’t take you past your limits in terms of pain tolerance. Boba Fett, of all people, knows that pain has a cathartic power, but too much pain is physically and emotionally injurious.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both and he’s quite good at giving. He does strongly prefer to finish inside of you, so oral for him is just a precursor for penetrative sex.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to let you set the pace unless you’ve earned a punishment. In that case, you’ll have only snapping hips and hard, deep thrusts to look forward to.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’ll take a quickie, but he’s not especially partial to quickies. He likes to make sure you’re adequately prepared to take him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s taken enough risks in his time. With you, everything is calculated. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s a fit man who is canonically 41 years old in TBOBF. He can go 2-3 rounds easily but if it’s been a long day, he prefers to keep it to one round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns a few tools specific to disciplining you - a crop, restraints, ropes - but otherwise he has all the tools he needs on him at all times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Boba is not unfair, but he does dole out punishment (including orgasm denial) as necessary to teach you to mind your manners.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He talks a lot, often without realizing it, in Basic and Mando’a. It’s more of a stream of consciousness when he’s inside of you - lots of praise, typically. His voice is low and throaty during sex.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a long list of pet names for you - Princess, Little One, Brat, Porglette, Mesh’la, An’edee n’edeemi (when you’re being a brat)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s THICC but not especially long. Uncut with prominent veins. A respectable 6” when hard, but the thickness of him makes him a challenge.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Bob Fett wants honestly and frankness. He doesn’t mind if you’re shy, but you should always be up front with him. It makes both of your lives easier.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He appreciates a solid 8 hours of sleep, preferably with you in his arms. He has too much to do for poor sleep habits. He wants to stay sharp and that means getting plenty of rest, with sex being the ideal end of a long day.

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

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bobofett26 · 5 months

Text

Gangster's Girl

Boba Fett x fem!reader

Pre-Sarlacc Boba

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

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

512 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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acatalystrising · 10 months

Text

Alriiiight! As I promised to @daimyosprincess - here at long last is Small Favors! This fic…sheesssshhh, this fic. It almost destroyed me! It’s absolute pure filth borne of one too many days of Boba brain rot, so buckle up, people!

Enjoy the ride! 🫠😉

(Zwei, this basically ended up being dedicated to you after all the lovely prof Boba content you’ve been giving us. I hope it lives up to your expectations! 💚🖤)

TW: NSFW, minors dni. This contains smut - predator/prey, fingering, dirty talk, pre-discussed non-consensual sex, piv, f!receiving, bondage, dom!Boba, pet names, teasing, slight degradation, all the usual suspects 🙃

Small Favors

The day Boba Fett called you a hellion, you were pretty certain it altered your brain chemistry.

To make things worse? He’d said it on his way out of the door, dressed in full armor, heading down to the throne room for yet another day of rulership.

Leaving you alone to ruminate on his words.

That simply wouldn’t do. You tried to be his good girl - lounging on his bed, boredly counting the cracks in the ceiling, doing as you’d been told…but where was the fun in that? You couldn’t help but let your imagination take over, wandering to a particular scenario that had intrigued you as of late.

Oh, the Daimyo was strong. Powerful, capable of overpowering you in seconds despite your best attempts to put up a fight. You could never forget it, no matter how many times he pleasured you senseless. But it made you wonder…

You knew how Boba the Daimyo handled you. But…how would Boba the bounty hunter? The mere thought of your love hunting you down like prey sent thrills coursing through you. But you’d been hesitant to mention it, given how many times he’d openly stated those days were behind him.

But the day was crawling miserably by, the hours even longer, and you needed a distraction. You knew you’d probably regret it, even as you stood and got dressed. But right now, you felt like doing something dangerous.

You were going to play with fire.

You were merciful (or smart) enough to wait for his last visitor to leave for the day, but not a moment longer. You struck before he had the chance to get up.

Boba still sat on his throne, powerful thighs spread like an invitation too good to refuse, as you made your way to him. His eyes followed your every step, hunger unabashedly flaring in his amber gaze.

But instead of sitting in his lap as he surely expected, you skirted around the throne, tracing a lone nail along his armor as you walked behind him. He reached for you, but you dodged his fingers with a smirk, tapping the back of his head instead.

“See you’re in a teasing mood.” His voice was gruff, tinged with exhaustion from the day’s tedious events, but you pressed on, still staying right out of his reach.

“I don’t don’t know what you mean,” you tapped his pauldron with another grin, and he shifted to face you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“What game are you playing at, little one?” He patted his thigh, a command he expected to be obeyed. “Been a long day.”

Oh, you were at war. You knew it was probably in your best interest to do as he said, and he was tired, after all. Perhaps he’d be too tired to play along. But…you didn’t want to throw your plan out the window just yet.

“Maybe you need some exercise. Wouldn’t want your skills to go to waste.” You raised a brow, stepping around the armrest and stopping before him, still out of his direct range. “Why don’t you come get me?”

Boba arched a dark brow, gaze locked on you, completely still. You realized a moment too late he was waiting for you to continue. Either that, or calculating his next move. Probably both. It sent a thrill coursing through you.

“I…”

“What’s this about, hmm?” He crossed his broad arms over his even broader chest, heaving a deep breath that flexed his beskar plates as he fixed you with a quizzical expression bordering intrigue. “Wanna play hard to get? We both know how that would go.”

Ahh, there it was, your golden ticket. That, or the action that would seal your doom. At this point, you’d already committed, and it was too late to back out, now.

“I don’t think you could catch me, old man.” You smirked, hands on your hips, looking at up at him with a raised brow. “You’re a Daimyo now. Lots and lots of sitting. You’re bound to lose your edge.”

Oh, you knew you were asking for trouble.

Boba regarded you evenly, a small smirk working its way on the corner of his lip. Those thick, skillful, beautiful lips. Oh, he did too.

“Is that so?” He looked down at you, eyes narrowing imperceptibly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Ahh, so he was humoring you. Good. “So confident today, mesh’la.”

You had the audacity, or stupidity depending on who you asked, to spit your tongue out at him. Him, Boba Fett. You were probably one of the few that ever could and live to tell the tale.

“Definitely.” You made a dramatic show of shrugging, making sure you leaned forward just enough to let the low neckline of your shirt do its job. “In fact, I don’t even think it would be hard. I’m fast, cunning too. I bet I’d even be able to outsmart the greatest bounty hunter who ever-”

Boba was on you in an instant, and you couldn’t help but loose a shriek as you were pulled into his lap before you could blink. Damn, that was quick. Quicker than when you had anticipated. And you’d thought you’d given him a wide enough berth. He curled his arms around you, pinning you to his armored chest, and pressed his face against your neck, breath hot and scalding - voice low like the thunder of an oncoming storm.

“Wanna flirt with death, little one?” He nibbled your earlobe between his teeth, a low growl rumbling from the depths of his throat, sending heat pooling between your legs. “Fine. But we both know you’re biting off more than you can chew.”

Oh kriffing gods.

You somehow managed to pull two halves of a thought together to form a sentence.

“Wanna test that? Give me two days. Bet you can’t catch me.” You shot him a smirk and shrugged. “Who knows, it could be fun.”

“And what would I get in return?” Boba’s voice was cold, calculating. Calculating, as he watched you, eyes narrowed, studying your blown out pupils and shallow breaths. He had to know you found this arousing. Especially if his hunter senses were still keen.

“Anything,” you confidently met his gaze, even as his grip on you tightened. “Anything you want.”

He fell silent for a moment, chest heaving, heart thundering beneath the beskar. A sly smirk curved on the corner of his lip, accompanied with a cutting gleam in his eyes, and it was then that you realized you were screwed.

“Anything.” He mirrored, dipping his head to meet your neck, sucking a bite on your pulse point. You bit back a moan despite your best efforts, far too keenly aware as one of his hands slid down your side and settling on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. “But you’ve already given me everything, mesh’la. Why would I risk losing what is already mine?”

Oh maker, he was playing with you. Making this harder than necessary. Punishing you for disobeying him.

“Umm, I…” you swallowed hard as his hand slipped between your legs, stifling another moan as he slowly, gently, torturously caressed your clothed clit. Gods, this wasn’t how you’d expected this to go. “I…just thought it would be fun, ya know? I’m always…maker…always wanting to try new things with you.”

He hummed, kissing your neck again, then your ear, your cheek, and finally your lips. He kissed you like a starved man, greedily nipping at your lips, tongue carving a path into your mouth, claiming you as his. He slipped his hand underneath your pants, your underwear the only barrier, deft fingers already bringing that coiling heat closer to the surface. You bucked against him, chasing his fingers, and he kept you flush with his chest with a growl.

“So my little princess wants to be hunted, hmm?” He had the audacity to lick a stripe up your neck as he circled your arching clit. “She wants to be hunted like a bounty? Like prey? That what you really want, little one? To feel helpless? Trapped with nowhere to go? Darling, I’ll show you helpless.”

You could only nod, a whimper breaking from your throat when he slowed his movements, delaying your pleasure. It nearly brought tears to your eyes. Dammit, this was supposed to be your game, not his, and yet you found yourself unraveling in his clutches yet again.

“Please, please don’t stop. I’ll do anything, I’d let you do anything,” you pressed against him with a whine, meeting his waiting gaze as you made your plea. “Fuck me bound. Even if I said no. Make me yours, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I just want…wanna…”

You fell silent, embarrassment flaring your cheeks, but you should have known that he wouldn’t let you get away with silence. His free hand gripped your chin and tilted your face up to meet his, just forcefully enough to make his point.

“Say it.”

There was no room for disobedience now. Not when you were literally at his mercy. Not when his command rolled through you, making you tremble with excitement.

“I want you to hunt me.” You forced yourself to speak, even as his eyes darkened, his fingers slowly caressing you again. “Chase me down, and capture me. Use me as you see fit. That’s…that’s what I want.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound echoing on the stone walls, as he zeroed in on your clit again, your pleasure nearly bubbling to the surface.

“So much begging, poor princess,” his voice was a mocking coo as he wrung the pleasure out of you, your vision going white, jaw slack as your orgasm hit with the force of a speeding train. “You’ll have one day, sweet thing. One day to run, and when it’s over, you’ll be begging me to come for you.”

You should have believed him.

Should have realized how hard he’d make this for you. But you’d been confidently foolish, going so far as to travel off world to some backwater forest planet on a neighboring system - albeit sparely populated…just to be safe.

But as the minutes had ticked to hours, and hours into the evening, there still had been no sign of your hunter. Whether this was because he was toying with you, or you’d actually given him the slip, you didn’t know - but you pressed on anyway. And as the cerulean sky faded to lilac and crimson hues, you started to worry.

You’d taken a one way trip to get here, even hired a smuggler to fly you. Anything to make it more exciting. More real.

But perhaps you’d gone too far.

You couldn’t help but feel a sliver of worry cut through your chest. Maybe you’d been overconfident, going to such lengths. What if he had lost his edge? What if he couldn’t find you? You’d be stuck alone, on a strange planet, with nothing but a short range commlink to try to call for help.

Stars, you also missed him. Missed his voice, his touch. You’d underestimated how quickly you’d tire of his absence - and as you slipped through the trees, slowing to a leisurely walk, you finally let your guard down, too lost in your whirling thoughts to keep playing the game you insisted on from the start.

The shadows had crept over the foliage, enshrouding the trees in darkness, hiding the armor that would have otherwise glinted in the sun.

You didn’t seem him until it was too late.

Strong arms suddenly wrenched yours behind your back, throwing you off balance and against a nearby tree. Your scream broke the silence, unheard in the miles of uncharted wilderness, unable to break free from the vise like grip clamping down on your wrists.

Boba’s breath flared hot like blaster fire on your cheek as he pushed you against the tree. The rough bark bit into your skin, only a minor fleeing pain, the true cause for your panic currently locking your arms behind your back in a vice like grip.

“Really thought you’d give me the slip, hmm?” His deep voice was rough and staticky with the helmet, tone absolutely deadly as he lifted his binders to your wrists. “Poor little girl.”

You clenched your legs at that - unable to stop the reaction from pushing your brain off the edge, diving into a freefall. Damn it, not yet. You couldn’t let him have his victory this easy. You had to be more of a challenge, flustered brain or not.

“Let. Me. Go!” You twisted in his grasp, tucking up your legs and lashing out with a kick to his chest.

He grunted, the force of your attack pushing him back a few centimeters - just enough space for you to work with. You broke free, heart locked in your throat, and spun around the tree to give you some distance.

You knew you couldn’t win. He was the better fighter in every way - an opponent you’d never once been able to beat, despite your own skill. But just because you knew you were going to lose didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

The trees whipped past in a blur as you carved a wild, desperate path deeper into the foliage. All was silent save for the crashing of your boots through the fallen leaves - the first warning that you were doomed. The second warning came too late.

A sharp prick bit into your shoulder, and your reflexes reacted too late - a scream stuck in your throat when a whipcord whipped around your body - throwing you to the ground. You could already feel the effects of the tranquillized taking over - vision blurring at the edges even as you still struggled in vain. Even as Boba stepped into your rapidly fading sight, armor glinting in the sunlight.

“Careful, little mouse,” his voice was cutting, sinfully victorious, as he knelt beside you. Kriffing hell, you knew he was smirking underneath that damn helmet. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt. You’re worth more alive.”

You felt the moment the binders slapped on your wrists, sealing your fate…

And then your vision went dark.

By the time you awoke, the Slave 1 was already well in sight.

You were slung over Boba’s shoulder like a carcass, arms and legs limply dangling, mind still buzzing from the sedative he’d given you. You tried to open your mouth to speak, but your words were a pathetic slur.

He either didn’t hear you, or was ignoring you. You could feel the strength of him, muscles coiled underneath armor - all sinew and power. He held you with one arm, but you knew you’d never escape, that large gloved hand locked around your neck. You whimpered as the ramp lowered, ushering you both inside - inside to whatever fate he had planned for you. It closed, sealing you both in, and dooming you.

You couldn’t help but feel a thrill as he unceremoniously dropped you to the ground, right outside the cells. You wondered if he’d cage you in one to make the experience more real, but Boba seemed to have other ideas. He grabbed your bound arms and drug you across the floor, ignoring your shrieks of protest when he stopped in the center of the cargo hold.

Boba was quiet - he hadn’t said a word since your capture, and part of you wondered if it was part of the act, or if it was truly upset at the lengths you’d gone to evade him. So, you tried to take matters into your own hands.

“Please, I didn’t do anything wrong. I bet of you, let me go!” Your broken voice was truthfully cracked, parched after your strenuous day. “I’ll do anything, I swear I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Boba Fett had the audacity to ignore you. In fact, he turned his back on you, lifting his gauntlet to key in a code. A mixture of indignation and embarrassment flooded your chest, prompting your next move.

“I know you can hear me under there, bucket head.” You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Or are you as deaf as you are dumb?”

“You know what you did.” His voice was low like thunder - cutting. A very different tone than the one he oh so often used with you.

This…this was entirely different. Excitement mixed with fear coursed down your spine as he slowly turned, that black t-visor locked on you with deadly focus.

But you wouldn’t be deterred that easily.

“What exactly did I do, huh?” You would have crossed your arms if you could. Instead, you opted to dramatically shrug. “Shouldn’t be too hard to list off my crimes. That is, if big words aren’t too much for a brute like you.”

Boba lunged forward with the speed of a viper, taking you entirely by surprise when his fingers gripped your chin, absolutely wrenching your face up to meet his - albeit hidden behind that helmet. And you were starting to realize why many would find it so terrifying. Heart hammering in your chest, you whimpered when his fingers squeezed your jaw, effectively clamping your mouth shut.

“Mouthy little brat, aren’t you?” His helmet was inches away, your panting breaths fogging the visor as he lowered his hand from your jaw to your neck. “Could just put you away in a cell. Would be what you deserve. But I might have to teach you a lesson.”

Oh gods. You swallowed, hard, and couldn’t resist the urge to wriggle beneath him, breaths growing shallower by the moment.

“You? Teach me a lesson? In your dreams.” You had the audacity to roll your eyes, spitting out your tongue to goad him further. “Sorry, but I have standards. I don’t fuck trigger happy bounty hunters.”

Boba Fett had the audacity to chuckle. A deep, dark chuckle that rumbled through your chest and tingled down your spine. Oh shit…you were in trouble. Big trouble.

“Is that so?” He gave your neck a squeeze, his free hand gripping your binders with another dark snicker. “Poor little kitten’s trying to give me orders? Ironic.”

His hand left your throat, and you yelped as he single-handedly picked you up by the binders, lifting you into the air, and pinned you against the ship’s wall. He magnetized the binders with a soft buzz, then left you dangling there - your toes barely able to touch the floor.

“What the hell?” You huffed, straining to reach the ground, heartbeat hammering so loudly you could barely concentrate, even as you felt his gloved fingers caress your jawline. “Let me down! Stop this, I mean it. Let me go, you kriffing jerk!”

Boba ignored you, helmet titling slowly to the side as if tracking his own journey tracing your neck until it stopped just above your shirt.

“You asked for this, little one.” His tone was impossibly husky, dark and rich like spotchka on the back of your throat. “You have a choice, kitten. You can either fight me, or…”

His hand slipped under your shirt, burrowing beneath your bra, and caressing your nipple with deft, skilled fingers.

“Choose to enjoy it.” He pinched your nipple too hard, and you yelped, thrashing even as he slowed back to a caress. “Your choice - but you’re not getting out of this.”

“N-no, please,” you tried to shy away, but he wouldn’t have it, pinning you to the wall with one hand, the other lifting from your shirt and wandering ever so slowly lower. “I’ll…comply. I’ll do anything. Just…please don’t hurt me.”

He chuckled, hand settling just above your crotch.

“Still giving orders, hmm? That’s not how this works.” He deftly unzipped your pants and slipped his hand into your waiting heat, a dry hiss emitting from his vocoder when he found the evidence of your arousal. “Dirty, dirty girl. Getting off on this? My, my.”

He circled your aching clit, and you cried out, trying to arch against him, breaths coming in near choked gasps as he quickly worked you towards oblivion. Damn, his patience must have flown out of the window. Perhaps he…

Just when you were on the precipice, Boba pulled his hand away. You cried out on frustration, heart pounding like a drum when he dropped his hands to his own pants, pulling his weeping cock free from its confines.

“Little kitten looks like she wants milk.” His voice was a sinister coo as he ran his thick shaft through your slick. “Poor baby.”

You whined - you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your chest when his fingers once again found your clit, wringing your pleasure back to the surface. But yet again, when you were on so close, he pulled away.

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast.” He raised his hand to your mouth, and you begrudgingly licked your arousal off his gloves. “You’ll come only when I tell you too. Can you be a good girl and do that?”

“Boba…I…” you writhed, pleading, but he promptly removed his hand from your clit with a growl.

“Didn’t give you permission to say my name,” his voice was all thunder and hellfire even as he seated himself in you with one brutal thrust. “It’s Sir to you.”

Your eyes widened, moans bouncing off the durasteel walls as he pounded into you, somehow feeling even bigger than normal. Your hands clattered uselessly against the wall, pleasure arcing up your spine as a steady heat grew in the pit of your stomach.

You cried out when he changed the angle, his cock hitting that deep spot that made you see stars. You writhed against him, legs wrapping around his back, trying to force him deeper. He growled, not slowing his pace in the slightest, and you whimpered when a hand reached up and tweaked a nipple.

“Bo-Sir…I…I’m,” you hated how pathetic you sounded, begging like some weak willed thing. But you felt it, your orgasm approaching like a speeding train, and there would be little you could do to stop it. “I’m…so close. Can I, can I…”

“I don’t know, not sure you deserve it,” he slowed his pace to a torturous crawl, slowly sliding through you, the wet sounds painfully loud in your ears even as you cried out in frustration. “Got your manners yet, little one? Have you learned your lesson?”

Oh Maker, he was torturing you. This was not how you had expected this to go - this was calculated, focused, intentional.

“I’m…I’m sorry. So sorry. P-please…” tears pricked your eyes, and you swore he was driving you absolutely mad, edging you with a calculated skill he hadn’t done before. “I take it all back. I’ll be good…I’ll behave. Just please, please…”

He pulled nearly out of you, helmet pressed against your shoulder, rasping voice directly in your ear.

“Please…what?” He stopped moving entirely until the only sound that could be heard was your desperate panting.

“Please, please let me come.” A tear slipped down your cheek, more from the building denial than anything else. “I’ll…I’ll be a good girl. Your girl.”

Boba grunted, pounding back into you with renewed vigor, one hand finding your neck, the other, your clit. He fucked you relentlessly - your back slamming into the wall as the edges of your vision dimmed.

When you finally came, your vision went completely white - all sound reduced to a ringing as burning hot pleasure seared you to your core. You screamed, writhing against him even as he continued driving into you, less focused and more reckless, chasing his own high.

“There you go, kitten.” His voice was dark with lust, armor flashing in the dim lighting. “Not so hard, hmm?”

When he came, it was with a deep groan that reverberated into your chest. He had you pressed against the wall, helmet against your neck, breaths rasping as he finally slowed to a stop.

For a moment, all was silent save both of your panting breaths. Boba was completely still, and for a moment, you worried he was genuinely angry. Had you gone too far? Had you done something wrong? Had you-

His hands reached up and unlocked your binders, catching you before you could fall to the floor. You couldn’t help but cling to him as he carried you to the cockpit, gently laying you in the small cot.

“You okay, my love?” His voice had regained some of its warmth, but still carried a dark edge. “Hope I wasn’t too rough with you.”

“I’m okay,” you nodded, meeting the visor with a small smile. “You weren’t. I’m honestly impressed you found me so quickly.”

He grunted, sitting beside you, gloved hand slowly caressing your hair.

“Didn’t expect you to leave Tatooine.” The helmet tilted in your direction. “You had me worried, little one.”

Oh stars. Had you gone too overboard? It hasn’t crossed your mind that Boba Fett would be afraid.

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” you curled into his chest, holding him close. “I’d only wanted to make it realistic. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “Only startled me initially. Gotta admit it was fun, watching you trying to give me the slip. It was cute.”

Wait a second.

You narrowed your eyes as he removed his helmet, mirth shining in his own.

“Exactly how soon had you found me?” You tilted your head to meet his gaze.

“Oh, little princess,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, and finally, your lips. “You never left my sight.”

Taglist: @daimyosprincess @hideflen @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @marierg @deewithani @rain-on-kamino @rexxdjarin @ceapa-mica @bobathirstaccount @dukeoftheblackstar

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thefact0rygirl · 1 year

Text

thefact0rygirl's boba fett masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST 🪐 AO3 🪐 TAGLIST

Both my blog and masterlist are NSFW/Explicit 18+. Minors do not interact.

series

Behave (completed)

In Hazardous Bliss (hiatus)

one shots

Big

Late Night Romantics

Homecoming

daddy kink drabble

Fxck Around and Find Out

corruption kink drabble

sleepy time confessions

The New Mand’alor

Tell Me You Love Me (GN!Reader)

No Wastelands

On His Knees

Taming a Loth Cat

Everything You Want (Male!Reader)

inexperienced reader drabble

Fall Apart

blurbs

boba fett likes to see it drip

boba calling you ‘kitten’

boba always needing to touch you

service top boba

boba loving on your body

boba getting tired during sex

slow and passionate sex with boba

how it feels to be inside you

letting it slip you want to sit on boba’s face

your sexual debut with post-sarlacc boba

boba using a large vibrator on you

on your knees for boba

reader dirty talking boba

headcanons

giving boba’s tummy love and affection

telling boba you love him for the first time

boba’s reaction to seeing you in lingerie

what boba wants to do to/with you but is too scared to ask

making boba come in his pants

how boba shows you he loves you

boba, rex, wolffe, and fives sending you voice messages

using the safe word with boba

boba asking you for something

unintentional vs. intentional sex pollen

how boba likes to receive aftercare

how boba cools down and makes up with you after an argument

how boba makes his partner feel sexy

boba and a partner with a low sex drive

boba’s flaws when in a relationship

dom!boba spanking you into place

boba, din, and rex accidentally walk in on you

boba fett x veterinarian!gn!reader

boba has a crush on veterinarian!reader

veterinarian!reader visits boba at the palace

boba comforts veterinarian!reader before his war with the pykes

requests

NSFW emoji prompts

five-sentence ficlets

drabble requests

kinktober

2021

KINKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST ⚡️

Suspension

Deep Throating (Boba Fett x Din Djarin x Fem!Reader)

Edging (GN!Reader)

2022

KINKTOBER 2022 MASTERLIST ⚡️

DAY 4: Size Difference

DAY 12: Creampie (AFAB!Reader)

DAY 13: Overstimulation

DAY 25: Threesome/Moresome (Boba Fett x Garsa Fwip x Reader)

DAY 29: Body Worship

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daimyosprincess · 28 days

Text

THIS TENDER LOVE

—PAIRING: Boba Fett x F!Reader

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

—WORD COUNT: 2.2k

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

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

Please let me know if I missed anything!

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

Divider by @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still do.

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

“Princess?”

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

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

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

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

So why can’t you move?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet kissing Boba is nothing like that.

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

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

“Princess…”

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

“But I-”

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

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

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

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

Where is that coming from?

“I-I said they were on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-don’t be mean-”

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

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

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

“No?”

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

“No, please-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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maybege · 8 months

Text

A Helping Hand - Part 2

Summary: Boba helps you through your heat.

Pairing: alpha!Boba Fett x fem!omega!Reader

Wordcount: 8.7k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse AU, A/B/O dynamics (scenting, knotting, etc.), explicit sexual content, dom!Boba, sub!Reader, older man/younger woman, implied age gap, unprotected sex, cream pies, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, come kink, dirty talk, gentle verbal degradation, cock warming

This is part of my Zombie Apocalypse AU. Please note that “Sunshine” is essentially Reader from the Paz version but I had to give her a nickname somehow to make sure she is still part of this. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. It has been way too long since, so if you’re interested in a part two, let me know!

ONE MONTH LATER AND HERE WE ARE WHOOP WHOOP! Thank you everyone for your lovely and kind feedback on the first part – it really was not a very difficult decision to write a second part then. :D I had so much fun writing this – it is basically all smut and fun and a little bit of filth and fluff. The perfect combination to start the weekend with, in my opinion. I hope you are all doing well and pretty please let me know what you thought of this concluding part! Your comments really do mean the world to me.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Sleeping in Boba’s truck was pure bliss.

After all, that man had this space all for himself and while it served as the main car to store things in, especially when you were on the move, it still offered so much more mattress real estate than when you shared with Chants.

What was not bliss, however, was sleeping during your heat. Alone.

Because that was what you were. Completely alone.

Boba had brought you to his truck and made sure that you were settled and had everything you could possibly need during the night. (He even pointed out his stash of emergency snacks and got you an extra bottle of water so you could stay hydrated.) But then, he had kissed you on the cheek (“Good night, princess, sweet dreams.”) and had turned his back to you to go to Chant’s truck.

You had gawked at his back for a sold three minutes, too stunned to remember you were in heat. You had been sure – so sure – that he would stay with you. That he would continue to scent you and maybe even help you take the edge off in more intimate ways than just his nose on your neck.

But no, Boba Fett had left you all alone.

And you had been too shy to ask him back.

So, you had huffed and crawled into the sheets, determined to remain angry at him for as long as you could and let him feel just how aching he had left you.

Turns out, having his scent envelope you completely made staying mad at him significantly harder than you had been prepared for. Everything smelled of him from the bed sheets to the pillowcases to the soft shirt you had found crumpled up in the corner. Probably the one he wore to bed.

Before you knew it, you had started rearranging everything in your reach until the edges were covered in bunched-up bedding and pillows and everything you touched was soft and smelled of the alpha that had just scented you. You pulled his shirt close, trying to tell yourself you were not a total creep when you lifted it to your nose, breathing in his scent.

But with how your abdomen tended to cramp up, you were willing to do everything to the pain to ease just the slightest bit.

And if that led to your fingers straying between your thighs, no one had to know.

The next morning hit you like a truck. On one hand, you were glad that you had managed to catch a few hours of sleep. On the other hand, you felt like that sleep had only made things worse. You were barely awake, perceiving the world like you were packed in thick cotton, everything just kind of passing you by and not really reaching you.

All you wanted to do was to stay curled up in your nest, sip on some water and have Boba come and visit you. The thought of cuddling into him filled you with such a yearning, that it was almost painful.

Still, you made it a point to join everyone for breakfast. You wanted to prove to Charlie (and everyone, really) that the lack of suppressant was not a hiccup that would affect the group in the long run. You wanted to show them that you were fine, that you could handle the things life had thrown at you.

That you could still be a useful member of the group.

You were the last to get up, that much was obvious, but when Grogu handed you a bowl of porridge, some extra berries sprinkled on top, you were oddly touched that they had still saved you some breakfast. The only available space was next to Boba which filled you with relief.

“You don’t look too good, dear,” Moira commented, her brows pulled together with worry and you tried your best to muster a half-passable smile that would convince her to leave alone.”

“It’s fine,” you waved her off as you sat down. Maybe you were dizzier than you had thought or Boba had shifted but suddenly the entire length of his thigh was pressed against yours, his body heat seeping through the layers of fabric and making you feel that much closer.

Stoically looking at your bowl, you tried to ignore how his proximity caused your heart to race. Or how your body temperature had risen by what felt like ten degrees.

The breakfast passed in silence. At least for you. You could hear the others faintly talking or moving around the camp. One time Din cursed so loud about something that you flinched, your body only relaxing when Boba pressed his leg tighter against yours, letting you know that “You’re safe, princess, no worries. It was just Din.”

When you finished your bowl, you felt full but not in the way you wanted.

“Here,” Boba said, handing you another bowl full of fresh berries that had your mouth watering, “You need to eat.”

You wanted to glare at him, but there was a softness in his eyes that gave you pause.

“Eat,” he instructed you, a mischievous smile forming on his lips, “You’re gonna need your strength, little one.”

Damn, this man.

Today was simply not your day.

Which, of course, made it the perfect day for Briggs to decide that now was the time to pack up and move.

You were staring numbly at the ground. You couldn’t even try to remember how you had gotten from breakfast to standing in the group again but by the stench in the air, you knew that everyone was there and not even Boba’s scent could overpower it.

If you focussed hard enough, you could get the gist of whatever Briggs was saying but as soon as you realized that he really wanted to move camp, panic took over. You tried to even your breathing and to give the impression that you were okay. That it didn’t take everything in you to simply stand there and look as neutral as possible.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you flinched. It was warm, his fingertips rough on your shoulder where the skin was not covered by the strap of your top. Instantly, you wished for him to tug that strap down your shoulder and take your top off and maybe lavish your chest with attention before he would go lower and –

“Princess,” Boba drawled and your thighs pressed together, “Were you listening?”

You must have looked at him just as confused because he tilted his head, stepping closer, almost as if he was shielding you from everyone’s gaze. Not that you cared – or noticed – because all you could focus on was his face right before yours. There was that furrow between his brows as he mustered you up and down and you wanted to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead and tell him he didn’t have to worry about you.

“Briggs asked you if you were okay with travelling today,” he repeated gently, his voice a rumble that came from somewhere in his chest, “I think maybe we should stay a few more nights, let you ride out your heat in peace. What do you think, ‘mega?”

Panic filled you at the prospect of your heat hindering, maybe even endangering, the entire group. It was embarrassing enough that everybody got to witness you at your weakest and most vulnerable moment. You did not also want to be the reason that a horde of wandering zombies would block your path to safety.

“No, I’m – I’m okay!” you protested loudly, your voice ringing in your ears, “I’m – I’m barely affected, we can go anytime.”

“I don’t think that is the best idea,” Sunshine interjected from where she was standing next to Paz, “You really don’t look too well.”

“She’s right,” Altarf nodded and it was only now that you noticed he was standing right beside you, “Are you feeling all right, lass?”

He reached his hand out to land on your shoulder and you practically jumped back, fear filling you at the thought that this stinking alpha wanted to touch you.

“Don’t touch her,” Boba hissed and you whimpered, backing into him. He was so close and smelled safe and when he put his hand around your shoulder, his finger subtly brushed over your scent gland, making you shiver.

The tension was high and Altarf looked both alarmed and apologetic, his hands up in the air as if to show he had meant no harm. And you truly believed he didn’t.

“If she says she’s fine, she’s fine,” Briggs announced, pulling the attention back to him, “And we do not have the time to wait until they come to find us. We have the chance to move now and we should take it.”

No one protested this time.

The next twelve hours were absolute torture.

“Drink some more water, dear,” Moira handed you a bottle from the front seat.

“If I drink any more water, we definitely have to make a bathroom stop,” you refused, “And I can’t have Din glaring at me any more than he already is.

“Don’t worry about him. Besides, you’re sweating out a waterfall, honey,” Sluice commented, steering the car right behind Din’s, “It’s important to stay hydrated.”

“Staying hydrated is the least of my problems,” you brought out, right as a new wave of craps hit you. This one made you feel delirious and you blindly fished for the water bottle and tilted your head back against the seat.

Usually, you drove with Chants, Sluice and Moira joining Altarf and Briggs respectively. But after the moment this morning, the women had declared that they would drive with you and you had never felt more grateful. They knew what heats were like and while it was still embarrassing, you felt somewhere relaxed around them, allowing yourself to show your pain.

“Perhaps a certain guitar-playing, princess-calling alpha will help you with those,” Sluice’s eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror and she wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled, pulling up your knees to your chest as you watched the destroyed highway pass you by.

You stopped for the night in what used to be South Dakota.

It was dark by the time you found a good place to stay and you did not need to be an expert to realize that the mood was significantly worse than you had feared. Everybody was kind of quiet, staying to themselves while car doors were slammed shut and crates of groceries set down a little too harshly.

“At this pace, we won’t reach Wisconsin for another three weeks,” Paz grumbled, “Might as well make our way back south if we want to be there by winter.”

You watched as Sunshine put her hand on his arm, saying something under her breath that had the giant man relax. But that did not have the same effect on everyone else.

“If we didn’t have to stop so much, we would be halfway there already,” Briggs snapped and your heart cracked a little at his obvious jab at you.

“Well now,” Moira said gently in her no-nonsense voice from where she was preparing their car, “Bathroom breaks are only natural – especially in this heat.”

That seemed to be the trigger word because the grey-haired man turned to you. “You said you wouldn’t have a problem driving today. You said your heat didn’t affect you.”

Even through the haze of your heat, you knew you were fucked. And the panic wasn’t helped by the fact that an angry alpha was scowling at you, his tone more than accusatory. You knew Briggs well enough to know that he wasn’t really mad at you. Normally the man made it a point to be nice to everyone. But you had one close encounter too many and the worry for the group manifested in him into a ball of negative feelings that were now directed at you.

“I,” you swallowed, your throat feeling dry, “I –“

“I don’t need to hear excuses,” he interrupted you, “I need to hear that it won't happen again.”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and you took a deep breath, trying to filter all of them out. All except for Boba.

“Briggs,” Sunshine called from somewhere, sounding very displeased at the same time as Boba stalked towards the older man.

You watched wide-eyed as your alpha stared down the other. You couldn’t remember when or if you had ever seen Boba so angry. His shoulders were pushed back, his hands curled up in fists that made the veins stand out,

“Don’t you dare put it on her,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “We all made that call. We all knew the condition she was in. You don’t get to blame her for things not going your way, Briggs.”

“You okay, honey?” Sluice asked you in a whisper and you only managed to nod, still gawking at Boba who had come to your defence so fiercely.

He truly looked like he was ready to throw punches, his muscles bulging under his flannel and you bit your lips, your wet panties getting even wetter at the sight of him. His scent had spiked too, a spicier note now mixed in with the woodiness.

Briggs scoffed, “Yeah well maybe it is time someone fucking knots her or we will be so slow we might’ve stayed in Wyoming after all.”

The sound of bones crunching made everyone move.

You watched in a trance as Paz and Din rushed forward, separating the two angry men from each other. Sluice was close behind. Bernie handled the kids while Sunshine shouted something at her oldest friend. But all you could focus on was the blood running from Briggs’s nose and the way Boba shook out his fist as if he was ready to go again.

“Hey, let’s sit down somewhere,” You recognized Chants’s familiar form and followed him to his truck where he sat you down on the passenger seat.

It was only then you noticed you were shaking like a leaf.

Chants’s car was parked by the side of what had been declared the fire pit, so you still had the best view of everything that was happening. You could see Boba in a heated conversation with Din and Altarf while Paz, Sunshine and Sluice were all talking to Briggs who was holding a hand to his bloody nose.

“He – he did that,” you stuttered out.

“Boba?” Chants checked, “Yeah, that was a pretty spot-on punch.”

“He did that to defend … me.”

“Of course, he did, silly,” your friend said as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and handed you a bottle from somewhere, “Now you drink some water and then I will make sure you have some privacy and rest, okay?”

You nodded, gripping the metal as hard as you could. You tried to focus on the difference in temperature and the way the earthy ground felt under your shoes.

Boba did not come to check up on you which made you aware of the fact that you had hoped he would. Instead, he helped Moira and Paz with dinner and you allowed yourself to look at him whenever the cramps got too bad.

Spacing out into daydreams while occasionally sipping on the water helped to tide you over but you were still very relieved when Chants came and told you that Boba’s truck was ready for you to hide in. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to take off your clothes, curl up in your nest and breathe in his scent.

“Here, we have some dinner!”

“Oh, that’s lovely, Grogu, thank you,” you grimaced, reaching out to take the bowl.

“Don’t you want to sit down with us? Briggs saved you a seat,” the little boy leant forward with a whisper, “I think he feels bad for the mean things he said.”

Another wave of cramps hit you.

“I, uh, I better think not,” you pressed out, standing up to walk with him towards where everyone was gathered. Indeed, there was a space free next to Briggs. Between him and Boba, to be exact. But instead of following Grogu to the group, you continued your path to the safety of the truck.

There was no need to explain. Everyone who would have needed to know already knew and you caught Briggs nodding at you. He did look a little apologetic but if he was sincere, then his apology could wait until you didn’t feel like your body was trying to rip itself in half.

“What’s wrong with her?” Grogu asked and your stomach dropped, a new cramp making you press your palm to your abdomen. You could feel your panties get wetter by the second, the blood burning in your veins and you bit your lip so hard you would not be surprised if it started bleeding.

“Maybe she does need an alpha to help her through it,” you could hear Din joke drily, “Poor thing got her head in the clouds.”

Only a few more steps to Boba’s truck and then you would be safe in the dark.

“For fuck’s sake, Din, leave her alone,” you could hear Boba cuss, “Or you want me to break your nose too?”

“No violence at dinner, boys,” Moira chimed in, sounding very amused, “We had that discussion already.”

But somewhere deep down, with your fingers in your pussy and your teeth gritted on Boba’s pillow, you knew Din was right.

You needed an alpha.

You made it your mission to ask him the next day. After all, it could not get any more embarrassing than it already was. Everybody knew what was up and you got the feeling that maybe Din’s and Briggs’ comments hadn’t meant to expose your feelings for him but the other way around.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, fuelled by the hormones that seemed to rule your body.

You spent the entire day agonizing over whether to ask Boba and – when you had finally decided that you really should ask him –how to ask him to spend the night (and his life) with you.

Chants and Moira’s chatter did little to distract you from your anxiety and paired with the cramps and the burning desire to have someone fuck you all the way to Sunday, the hours felt like dozens of lifetimes.

And yet, when you finally put up camp in a place you had never heard of, it felt like no time had passed at all. Your heart was racing in your chest and you kept fiddling with your hands, observing the alpha out of the corners of your eyes to gauge when a good time would be to ask him. You did not want to have the entire camp listen to your more than intimate conversation.

His rejection would be embarrassment enough.

The moment arrived just after dinner. The group had split with everyone just doing their own thing. Altarf and Bernie had taken over the first guarding shift and you could spot Paz and Sunshine making their way to their truck already. Briggs and Moira were with the kids, telling them a good night story, while Din, Sluice and Chants were doing dishes.

Only Boba was left sitting by the fire, working on a little wooden figurine.

This was your moment.

Your legs were shaking by the time you gathered the courage to stand up from your place by the truck. It was quite a bit away from the fire which meant that had to put a lot of focus on walking and breathing and not overthinking and putting one foot in front of the other and not paying any mind to the way your head got so hazy around him and stars why did he smell so good and –

“Hey, Boba.”

The older man looked up from where had flitted the knife against the wood, his brows pulled together.

“Are you okay, ‘mega?”

You suppressed a whimper at the deep rumble in his chest. He looked so comfortable with the flannel pulled over his thick arms and the rolled-up sleeves that let you see his forearms. Everything in your body wanted you to just sit on his lap and put your lips against his jaw and your pussy on his cock.

Pressing your lips together, you mustered a little smile. “Yeah, uh, do, uh, do you have a minute?”

“’Course,” he muttered, setting his knife aside and following you a few steps away from the glow of the embers.

Your skin was burning so much, you could barely concentrate.

Hidden in the shadows, you felt a little safer, a little less observed. But there was something about having him so close to you, that had your tongue heavy in your mouth and your thoughts so much slower in your head.

“About what Din said,” you started carefully, trying to remember the talking points you had put together in the car.

But Boba was faster than you-

“Listen, princess, I am so sorry,” he said lowly, his hand brushing against yours, “I lost my temper at Briggs and that was not okay. I would never –“

“Would you knot me?”

Oh shit, that had not been the plan.

The sheer panic of it all had your head completely empty as you stared at him in complete shock for a few seconds.

“You can say no if you want,” you rushed out, already trying to control the damage, “Sorry, I’m, I don’t think I’m thinking clearly and when Din said that I think he was right and then I thought about the available alphas and you came to mind and uh, yeah,” you trailed off, your voice growing quieter, “You can say no.”

Only he did not say no.

To be exact, he didn’t say anything.

Boba simply looked at you.

“Are you serious?” he asked you, then, “Are you sure?”

Too shy to say anything, you merely nodded.

“Oh omega,” he breathed and it was unfair how that word alone, in his voice, sent a shiver down your spine.

“I am sorry I made you ask,” he murmured, taking a step closer to you, “I am not a small man and if I do get to knot you, omega, if I get to come inside you, you need to know one thing.”

“Anything.”

His lips quirked up at your eager tone, “It won’t be the last time.”

Your eyes widened, “You mean, uh, do you mean –“

“I mean I want to mate you, little one,” he stated, the hint of a smile on his lips as he raised his hand to cup your neck. His thumb brushed over your scent gland you tilted your head back for him. “Not right now, not tonight,” he amended, “But eventually, I would very much like to be your alpha. And for you to be my omega.”

If anyone had told you that the result of your heat would be Boba Fett asking you to be his mate, you would have thrown the entire package of suppressants in the ocean without a second thought.

“Do you want that too?” he checked in, the tip of his nose running over your scent gland and causing another wave of wetness to run down your thighs. At this point, you were completely drenched and you felt weak in your knees.

“Yes,” you nodded, hardly believing our luck, “Yes, I want that, alpha.”

He groaned, cupping your face in his hands, “You have no idea how hard I get at you calling me that.”

You smiled, pushing your hips against his, “I think I have an idea.”

Boba laughed at that, his hands warm and big on your face before he pulled you in for a kiss that really had your knees wobbling. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him

“Let’s go somewhere more private, princess,” he winked, “Good thing I parked a little further away.”

You gasped, “Did you – You knew!”

“I had a suspicion,” he admitted, his hand brushing over your side before grabbing yours, “But then you came from just me scenting you the other day and I knew that maybe I did have a chance with you.”

“You always had a chance with me,” you brought out quietly, squeezing his hand.

The big alpha led you over to his truck. You had left the doors open in an attempt to take advantage of the cool evening air and hoped it would help you stay cooler in the night. But now that you, you felt yourself get both needier and more nervous at the same time.

And Boba noticed. Of course, he noticed.

“Are you okay, omega?” he asked you, a concerned look on his face.

“It’s not that,” you shook your head quickly, trying to ignore the dizziness that overtook you at the motions. “It’s just, it’s, um, it’s been a long time,” you admitted shyly, your back pressed against the cold metal of the truck, “I – I mean, not only my heat but I –“

With his hands on your hips, Boba stepped right against you. “It’s okay,” he assured you, “we can stop anytime.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” you murmured, “I – I can barely think, alpha, everything hurts and I don’t know what to do and I –“ you cut yourself off with a frustrated huff and took a deep breath. Boba’s scent was in the air, immediately causing your shoulders to fall and your pussy to weep.

“You don’t have to focus anymore, omega,” he whispered in your ear, one hand gliding up your side over your waist and to your chest, “I am here now. I will take care of you. You don’t have to think anymore, just enjoy.”

His words caused a full-body shiver in you, the kind that reached all your muscles and made your eyes flutter. It felt like a weight was lifted off you, the tension and energy that it had taken to pretend finally showing their effect on you.

Feeling his thumb brush over your clothed nipple, you arched your back towards him, a whimper leaving your lips.

He hummed, “Our goal today is just to have you feel better, okay? There is no disappointing me, omega, okay? You couldn’t disappoint me even if you tried.”

“Okay, alpha,” you breathed.

His fingers pinched your nipple lightly and you bit your lip.

“Is there something you don’t want me to do today?”

You shook your head, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. “I can’t,” you swallowed heavily, “I can’t really focus now, alpha.”

“Okay,” he said, “We will have that talk tomorrow then. For now, if you want to stop, for any reason, you say sandwich okay?”

You nodded, watching through half-lidded eyes as he pulled the neckline of your top down, baring you to the chilly night air.

“I need you to repeat that for me,” he murmured, watching your nipple pebble under his ministrations.

You let your head fall back against the truck, pushing your chest out for him. “Sandwich.”

“And when do you say it?”

“When I want to stop,” you gasped when he lightly pulled, “For whatever reason.”

That seemed to appease him because he leant down and licked a hot stripe over your right tit.

“Good girl,” he praised you now, sending a new set of cramps to your core, “Now how about we get you settled in your nest, hm? Want me to take my clothes off here or inside?”

“Shoes here,” you said, already half crawling onto the mattress, “Clothes inside.”

Surrounded by your nest and with your alpha closing the car doors, you already felt so much better. You sighed, sinking back into the sheets and stripping your clothes. You threw them to the front seat, not wanting anything that didn’t smell like him next to you.

You had not even noticed how your hand had wandered between your legs, your fingers circling your clit. You were sopping wet, your fingers gliding over your folds and you moaned.

Boba entered through the last open door, his frame filling out the open space so easily.

“Stars,” he groaned, his nose twitching, “If it smells anything more like you, I’m gonna come in my pants.”

“Really?” you asked, a little embarrassed, “For me, it still smells like you.”

He paused, a soft look in his eyes, when he crawled onto your nest, closing the door behind him. The sound seemed to finalize everything. Here you both were. In your nest. You in your heat and him wanting to knot you.

You watched with bated breath as he took off his shirt, exposing his broad chest and belly and the little scars on them that made your heart ache. Your fingers twitch, rubbing over your clit again and you gasped, your body pulling you back down into the w<spiral of desire when he bent down and kissed you lightly.

“That didn’t bother you?” he asked, an amused glint in his eyes, “The smell of an old alpha around?”

“You’re not old,” you frowned, leaning up on your elbows, “Briggs is old but you’re – you’re – oh!”

His mouth closed around your nipple, his tongue rolling over the sensitive nub and your head lolled back. Your legs spread out of their own accord and it could not have been a coincidence that the broadness of his body fit there perfectly.

“Still much older than you,” he teased with his teeth around your nipple, gently pulling. You felt like you were about to come on the spot, your hands flying to his shoulders, unsure if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

“But I think that is just what you need,” he said, switching to the other side while his fingers played with your abused nipple, “An older alpha taking care of you, showing how good it can feel to finally sit on someone’s knot, filled to the brim with come.”

“Oh yes,” you breathed, whimpering when sucked and pulled on the other, “Alpha, please.”

“Please what?” he taunted you, his hand wandering down to where you had touched yourself, “Use your words, my pretty little omega.

“Please fuck me,” you murmured, “P-please knot me. Want to feel so full of you, alpha. P-please.”

“Pretty little omega begging just for me, huh?” he mocked you, looking right at you when his thick fingers swiped through your folds for the first time.

Your entire body jolted with arousal, the effect much more drastic than when you touched yourself. Your pussy felt achingly empty and you could feel your walls clench, your thighs already drenched with your juices. He seemed to take note of it, his fingers a little more careful when he rubbed over your clit.

It did not take long until your hands landed on his shoulders, though you were unsure if you wanted to keep him there or push him away. “A-alpha,” you whimpered,

“Look at me, omega,” he ordered, “Look at me, princess, wanna see you when you come.”

Oh, that was that feeling.

Your body suddenly made a whole lot more sense to you and you tried to keep your eyes open. Dark eyes met yours and his intense gaze paired with his fingers expertly playing you like a fiddle did not do anything to stem the oncoming climax that built up in your core.

“Alpha!” you called, fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, “I’m – I – I’m gonna –“

“That’s it, princess,” he encouraged you, his movements speeding up. When his mouth landed on the crease of your inner thigh, planting a kiss so close to where you needed him most. “Come for me, ‘mega, let me feel you squeeze my fingers real tight before I work my cock in here, hm?”

Furrowing your bows in confusion, your lips formed an O when he pushed a single finger inside you. He was not a small man and his fingers were definitely larger than yours. But when your body was feeling like it was overdue on his, that was definitely not a bad thing.

The knot in your core sprung apart so suddenly, you felt your back arch off the bed. It felt better than anything you had ever experienced before and when Boba moved his mouth right over your fold, sucking on your clit while pumping his finger inside you, you swore you saw stars.

“There we go, princess,” he praised you, helping you ride the last waves, “Taste so fucking delicious.”

Relaxing back into the pillows, you squeezed his shoulders, trying to get him to move up. And he did, following your hands like you needed until his face hovered over yours and you could feel the warmth of his body on yours.

“Hi,” he smiled, bumping his nose against yours.

You giggled, raising your finger to run them over the little crinkles next to his eyes.

“Hi, alpha,” you breathed, seeing his eyelids flutter at the title.

His hips pressed against yours. You could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans and you jerked, lifting your hips to get some more friction against your clit.

“Ready?” he checked in, “You still want my knot?”

“Stars, please,” you breathed, running your hand over his chest to the bulge in his pants, squeezing it lightly, “Boba, I – I really want this.”

“Good,” he smiled before pulling away from you. You whimpered, your fingers hooking into his belt loops to keep him close. But Boba would not be stopped and he chuckled when he saw the disappointed look on your face.

“Don’t you worry,” his hand ran over your ankle while the other fiddled with his zipper, “I will be back in just a second.”

“You better,” you tried to sound more teasing and less pouty, spreading your legs to show your glistening folds, “Or I have to take care of myself again.”

In a move fuelled by courage and desire, you ran your finger over your folds, dipping it barely inside your weeping pussy before pulling away again. It made your entire body thrum, especially when you saw the way he looked at you.

Boba growled, pulling his pants down his legs. “You better leave that pussy alone,” he warned you, his hand wrapping around his thick cock, “There is only one person that makes you come tonight and that is me. Understood?”

In theory, his words were a guaranteed turn-on. In practice, you were too distracted by the sight of his cock to really listen to him. He looked big, and thick, like he would stretch you in the most delicious ways. He climbed back onto the bed, right between your legs and you held your arms out to him.

Your thighs ached by how much you had to spread them to accommodate his size. This was not helped by the fact that you finally – finally! – felt his cock brush against your wetness. It was like your brain short-circuited, all nerve endings

There was a concentrated look in his eyes as he grabbed his shaft, rubbing it over your folds to gather your juices on him. It made you tremble, everything you aching for him. But Boba did not budge, his tip catching more than once on your hole but he did not even look like he intended to push inside you anytime soon.

But your body would not have it.

Before you could say anything, however, the man above you finally moved. His eyes met yours and time stood still, the air full of tension, when you felt him slowly push inside you. All the yearning for something inside you suddenly turned into sheer overwhelm at the sensation of

Boba noticed your tension immediately – of course, he did.

“Deep breaths, omega,” he rumbled, his eyes soft and warm, “Deep breaths. You know what to say when you need to stop?”

You nodded, biting your lip. You reached out to him, your hands landing on his shoulder and he was so warm, so comfortable, you wanted nothing more.

Once the tip was inside you, you let out the breath you had not realised you had been holding. It was a strange sensation of finally being completely but also being stretched wider than you ever had before. How could your body make you feel like you were about to burst because of how empty and how full you were at the same time?

Your walls clenched, making you realise just how big Boba actually was. And he was not even all the way inside you.

“You okay?” he checked in, looking as collected as ever and you wanted to hate him for how good his composure was compared to yours. You felt like a melted puddle made up of desire and want and the inability to put all of that into words.

“You’re – you’re so big,” you whimpered finally, your thighs trembling around his hips. You angled your knees up, trying to lock your ankles behind his back and Boba pushed further inside you, making you both gasp.

“Aw,” he cooed, “Does my sweet omega not think she can take it?”

You looked at him with wide eyes and shook your head, ignoring how tight your pussy had gotten at his words. He felt truly giant inside you. Thick and long and so hot.

Boba contemplated for a second, looking at your pussy and heat rose into your face that he must look at such an intimate place, right where he pushed inside you. He shifted his weight onto only one arm, his free fingers brushing over your clit and your entire body twitched.

“Wish I had a camera,” he confessed, “The way your pussy grips my cock, that’s some art right there … You wanna see?”

Cheeks burning, you nodded, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look down. Stars, he was right. His hand was big, his thumb rubbing over your slit while his other fingers held you open for him.

“Look at how pretty your pussy is,” he murmured, his lips pressing a kiss against your temple, “Look at how you’re taking my cock.”

His shaft was wet when he pulled back a little and you watched with baited breath as he pushed in a gain a little further, this time eliciting a moan from you. The smile on his face was both proud and mischievous and his thumb started circling your clit.

“What was that?”

“H-harder,” your fingers squeezed his shoulders, “Please, alpha, I need it harder.”

“Harder, hm?” he teased you, “Does my omega want to be fucked properly?”

You nodded eagerly, trying your best to move your hips against him. But with each thrust, Boba pinned his hips against yours, effectively stopping your movements and making him the sole person in control.

Another gasp left you, one that bordered on a moan. But in the back of your mind, you were still very much aware that your sounds were shielded by nothing more than the window glass of the car. And your friends were not that far away.

“There we go,” Boba praised you, his thumb flicking your clit, “Let it all out, princess, want to feel you come apart on my cock.”

You bit your lips, feeling the all-familiar tingle in your toes and fingertips as your body registered nothing but please and please and pleasure.

His movement got slower but heavier, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars and seemed to push the air out of your lungs. “You can do it,” he encouraged you, his breath washing over your face, “I can feel that pussy squeezing me, hm? Don’t you want to come for me? Don’t you want to feel what it’s like to be filled up by your alpha?”

Everything seemed too much all at once and your body, so focussed on the way the knot in your core got tighter by the second, could not even manage to nod for him. All you did manage to do was blindly reach for him, running your palms over the sides of his throat, colouring him in your scent and Boba growled, his hips snapping against yours again.

“Do that again and I’ll have no choice but to knot you,” he grunted, his head buried in your neck and you could feel his teeth scrape over your scent gland. Your entire body shuddered and you could feel your pussy drench him even more.

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” he mocked you, pulling away so he could look into your eyes. You felt fuzzy, like you were floating beyond the clouds already with your body finally receiving what you had needed. But you were not too far gone to think that the internal image of Boba knotting you, coming inside you, was the biggest turn-on.

“Oh yes, you did,” he realized quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. “I thought about waiting,” he revealed, his hips steadily working against yours, “Thought about how maybe I should get you used to my cock first before plugging you up like that,” you tried to ignore how your pussy fluttered at his choice of words, “But maybe that’s not necessary, after all, maybe my precious omega wants to be knotted by an old alpha because she is so needy, hm?”

He kissed you open-mouthed, coaxing your tongue against his. “What do you say, little one?” he breathed against you, “Are you so needy you want my knot today? Are you that desperate for my cock?”

You could not even form an answer because it was exactly this question that had you coming apart for him. And that, in turn, seemed to have Boba come apart. You were both clutching at each other, your muscles tensing until you felt light as a feather. Boba still ground against you, the base of his cock swelling and you could feel his knot forming.

It had been years since your last intimate encounter and you did not consider yourself to be particularly inexperienced. But you had never been knotted before. Your breath caught in your throat caught between the ecstasy that was running through your veins and the little bit of fear in your mind at the completely new sensation.

But the way Boba held you, the way he tilted his head to kiss you so softly while working his knot inside you, had any doubts you might have had completely disappear. You could feel him throbbing, feel him pumping you full of his come, while his thrusts got shallower until his knot kept him inside you completely.

You were both quiet for a little while and you tried to catch your breath, your head feeling clearer than it had in weeks.

Boba was still above you, his chest heaving with breaths and you enjoyed the way his body was pressed against yours though you quickly became aware of the heavy weight. As did he.

“Let me turn us around, alight, princess?” he asked softly and you appreciated how he kept his voice quiet so as not to disturb the calm peacefulness that filled the car.

You nodded, shifting your legs to help him turn you both onto your sides. You straightened one leg, having it press against the front of his, while he kept his hand on the knee of your other leg, making sure it stayed hooked over his hip.

It opened you up again and you gasped when you felt his cock pump another load of come inside you. You could feel the tightness in your lower belly, heat rising to your cheeks and ears.

“Boba!” you murmured, clinging to him, “’s too much …”

“What is too much?” he asked you, his fingers brushing over your knee while he nuzzled into your neck.

“’s too much come,” you whispered, “I feel full.”

“Now don’t be shy about that,” he teased you, kissing your face, “that’s why I got my knot, so it all stays right where it belongs. Does it hurt?”

You took a moment to assess the situation and then shook your head. “Just not used to it, is all,” you replied.

“I promise,” he rumbled, “You will have plenty of chances to get used to this in the future.”

Your walls clenched at his words again and he hummed, his hips shifting against yours.

“Much better, isn’t it?” he checked in, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You smiled at him, your heart swelling with love.

“Yes, alpha,” you sighed, your eyes feeling heavy with post-orgasmic bliss, “Much better.”

The next time you opened your eyes, it was light out.

And you felt, for the first time in days, cold.

“Fuck,” you shivered, cuddling closer to the heat source right in front of you.

Only it wasn’t a blanket or a pillow. It was Boba, dozing right next to you, his hand on his belly, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took.

It took you a minute of stunned silence to mentally go over what happened since last night. How you had asked him to help you, how he had confessed he wanted to be your mate, how he had knotted you. The smile on your lips could not be concealed for the life of you as you stared at your sleeping hunk of a man.

“Better take a picture,” he mumbled, peeking one eye open with a mischievous smile, “Might last longer.”

“How long have you been awake?” you asked him instead, leaning over him to plant a kiss on his lips. You could feel his stubble coming and you raised your fingers to brush over his face.

“Long enough to feel how cold you are,” he replied, rolling you both over until you were on your back. His fingers gripped your chin, his dark eyes looking at you so softly, “Need some warming up, princess?”

“Oh,” you whimpered, the sound a result of both your surprise and the little twinge you felt between your legs.

You wanted to smooth over the furrow in his brows immediately, “What’s wrong?”

“I feel a little sore,” you admitted, shifting your legs, “From, uh, from yesterday.”

“No worries, princess,” he kissed you again, his tongue running over your bottom lip before his hand wandered from your chin between your breasts to your core, “Lay back and let your alpha handle it.”

The smile on your lips grew only dreamier when you did as he said, leaning back into the soft pillows and giving him some space to work.

Boba wasted no time, his mouth immediately getting to work by planting wet kisses on your inner thighs before moving to your fold and gently eating you out. It felt different to last night, softer and slower and more careful. Though no less pleasurable.

You could feel the wetness kicking in in no time, mixing with his spit your walls fluttered. You squirmed when his fingers spread your pussy lips apart feeling puffy and swollen and just a mess. But one stern look from Boba had you stop your movements.

“Do you trust me?” he asked you and you nodded without a second thought.

His tongue circled your clit, pressing a wet kiss there. You forced yourself to hold still and instead just focus on the tingles he sent up and down your spine. Soon, you were writhing under his tongue, trying to lift up your hips against his mouth.

“Please, I – I want your cock.”

“Nu-uh,” he gripped your thighs tighter, “You only get to come on my tongue today, princess, don’t want to hurt you.”

“But it's my heat,” you pouted, your fingers starting to play with your nipples, “Don’t – Don’t you want to make me happy, alpha?”

He hummed against your clit, sending the pleasure up your body, before pulling away. His lips glistened with your juice and you swore you had never seen anything sexier than Boba Fett between your legs. “Trust me,” he rumbled, licking his lips, “I would do everything to make you happy, little ‘mega, but I refuse to hurt you.”

Your disappointment must have shown on your face because he chuckled before diving back in, his tongue flicking over your clit and making you gush even more.

“Don’t worry, little one, I plan on making it up to you,” he revealed, the timbre of his voice driving you crazy.

“And – oh! – and how do you plan to achieve that, alpha?” you aimed to copy his teasing tone but failed miserably when he sucked on your folds. He already had you so close to the edge but you refused to give in already – not when you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I could have you sit on my cock on the next drive,” he suggested, a single finger brushing over your clit, “You and me in the truck for hours on end? Sounds like the perfect opportunity to have you bouncing on my cock … would make the hours go by faster, don’t you think?”

The idea took you so by surprise you could barely hide your arousal from it. Or rather: You could not hide your arousal – at all. Boba noticed, of course, and upped his efforts. Slowly pushing one finger inside you, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

And you came.

Much like the entire morning, it was not the kind that made you see stars but the kind that had you melting into the sheets, a happy smile on your lips and the yearning to feel him at your fingertips.

“There we go,” you could hear Boba murmur, pressing a kiss against your thigh again before sitting up, “Good girl. Feel good?”

“Perfect,” you nodded, stretching your arms above your head. You felt like a whole new person, ready to stay in bed and make the most of the rest of your heat with the alpha of your dreams beside you.

But when that alpha of your dreams started getting dressed, you started getting anxious.

“What,” you swallowed, “What are you doing? Are you – are you leaving?”

Boba looked up from where he had half-buttoned his flannel. Stars knew he was a good-looking man but you found it a crime that you would ever have to see him dressed again. The world was deprived of so much, it should not have to be deprived of the glorious sight that was Boba's thick upper body.

“Just to get some breakfast,” he assured you with a smile, his hand reaching out and brushing over your calf, “You wanna come with or stay in your nest?”

“Nest,” you decided promptly, burying your face in the pillow, “And you too.”

Boba grinned, looking genuinely happy, “Alright, princess, I will get us some breakfast and then come straight back to our nest. How does that sound?”

Like heaven.

“Where you think you’re going, princess?”

Three days later you stood in the middle of the campsite, loading a box of groceries onto Briggs’ truck before making your way to Chants and Moira.

That was before Boba’s voice had you halt in your movements and turn around.”

“Uh, I thought, you know with my heat being over,” you shrugged, a little insecure, “Maybe you would like to have your truck back?”

The older man chuckled, flashing his white teeth and he looked so happy, it made your heart clench. He stood so close to you now – a closeness he had not shied away from in the past days, even with the other watching – you could smell him and you closed your eyes, letting the scent of woods and something distinctly Boba filly our nose.

“No way, princess,” he shook his head, his hand gently closing around yours, “You’re driving with me now.”

“Really?”

“Really?” he nodded, his nose brushing over your cheek, “Mates travel together, don’t they?”

Mates.

Your lips quirked up when you followed him to his truck. The one you had spent the last few nights in (much to Din’s and Paz’s amusement who would not keep from teasing their best friend about “finally landing his omega”). The one that had become your home so quickly, with your clothes having their own space next to his, your favourite pillow sitting next to his and your blanket being his arms every night.

“Besides,” he grinned, opening the car door for you, “I remember someone’s pussy drooling at the thought of cock warming me during a drive.”

Your pussy clenched at his words.

You were in for a ride.

#maybege writes #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #smut #apocalypse!boba vibes

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sleepingsun501 · 5 months

Text

Good Morning, Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!reader

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

Rating: Explicit 18+