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sprout-fics · 2 years

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Menagerie Chapter 3: Beginnings

(Read here on AO3!)

Rating: Mature

Word count: 5k

Tags: Daimyo Boba Fett, Enforcer Fennec Shand, Criminal Underworld references, Conspiracies, Fennec being a cutie, Brief mentions of romantic interests, Slow burn, References to hostage situations

Warnings: Allusion to sexual assault (brief)

Summary:

In truth Boba hadn't originally intended on accepting this...alternative form of payment. He had come to collect on the outstanding debt owed to him by the boy-king and nothing else.

Yet instead, the boy, Axias, had turned his head to the periphery of the grand hall, locking his steely gaze on something, or someone. Boba could remember following his gaze, surprised to find that the person that the head of the household called upon was not some gladiator or assassin ordered to kill him, but instead a woman.

Your gaze had flickered then, fear there and gone before he could fully see it. You had seemed just as surprised as Boba, but had quickly composed yourself, much to the daimyo's interest. He found himself unable to look away as you glided across the tiled floors of the grand hall, gazing ever forward and refusing to look at him. There was a dignity, a grace in which you carried yourself despite your fear, and for a moment the daimyo had felt something akin to respect murmur within him at your figure standing tall under the stare of a hundred eyes.

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"This one is yours."

You watched as Fennec stood before you, idly gesturing to a doorway in one of the large underground hallways she had guided you through. The underbelly of the palace was like a labyrinth, stretching far further than you had originally imagined. You considered yourself lucky to have even found the throne room after your 'escape' attempt. You could have easily gotten lost down here, roaming miserably until Fennec or Fett had eventually come to collect you, whenever that may have been.

It was strange now, you realized, to think you had free roam over this place. What you once considered your prison now turned out to be a sanctuary, somewhere you could find shelter from the strange and dramatic change in events that had befallen you.

You followed Fennec, her figure lit by the flicker of the underground lanterns that cast orange halos throughout the hallway. She seemed to have taken your earlier hostility in stride, likely chalking it up to you being uninformed about your circumstances. Yet you still felt an itch to offer a timid apology to her, a truce to make up for your earlier distrust.

The huntress held the door to your room aside for you, nodding for you to enter ahead of her. You did so cautiously, bare feet still scraping against the floors as you stepped across the threshold.

You blinked once you were inside, trying to adjust your vision to the increase in brightness that bled from the large bronze lantern in the ceiling, hanging over the center of your room. Except it didn't seem to be a room, per say. Rather, the chamber Fennec has led you to appeared to be more of a suite, with the two of you standing in what looked like some type of antechamber, complete with several seats and a desk. A curtained archway led off to a second room, and through it you could see a bed lofted on a slatted platform, complete with sheets and several pillows.

" 'Fresher is through the bedroom." Fennec announced, sweeping past you as you looked around the space with wide eyes. Her boots clacked on the floor, the only sound aside from a dull hum of a ventilation system nearby. "Water allowance is only for five minutes a day until we get the underground pumps repaired, I'd use it wisely."

You trailed after her into the bedroom, eyes still roaming over the furnishings and carefully sculpted sandstone walls of your chambers. The bedroom was even larger than the antechamber, including not only the bed but a small alcove with a dresser and a doorway that led to what you assumed to be the bathroom Fennec spoke of. A screen was folded beside the foot of the bed, facing towards the archway you had just entered and able to be pulled open for privacy's sake. A vanity sat in the opposite corner, the mirror tarnished with age but the metal surface scrubbed free of debris.

It...was a very nice room, you decided. It wasn't as large as your rooms at the family estate, but they had been structured to accommodate Sithla's room as well as a private study. Your heart clenched at the reminder of your friend you had left behind, and silently you prayed that Axias' wrath had not reached her as well, that she was safe.

"We're still working on getting you some clothes." Fennec went on as you padded over to the alcove with the fresher, peeking inside and startled to find not only a shower but also a bathtub, a luxury you thought you'd never be afforded on a desert planet. "So, you'll have to make do with the ones we found for you."

"That's fine." You replied quietly, fingers tracing over the tile along the edge of the tub, admiring the way it shimmered under the light.

Fennec was silent for a moment, as if observing you in your distraction. You ignored her, fixated on the screened part of the wall that separated the sink from the rest of the room, eyes still taking in the strange luxury you had been afforded in a place you had originally thought to be your demise.

"You won't have a maid, obviously."

Your gaze snapped to Fennec at once, and her expression seemed nonplussed at your reaction, arms crossed as she regarded you with a tilt of her head.

"I don't need one." You replied quickly, eyes narrowing.

You held Fennec's stare for a long moment, and you could see some type of patronizing emotion flicker there.

"I've never needed one." You clarified after a moment. "It was always just a formality."

Fennec arched an eyebrow at you. "You'll find formality a bit lacking around here, princess." She returned, and your frown only deepened.

She was underestimating you. Clearly she thought you were some type of pampered high-class lady, content to lounge on a chaise lounge all day and feast on an endless supply of meiloorun fruit. Yet you weren't. You were from a family of legendary assassins, one that had earned their status through countless generations of sacrifice.

Yet you knew challenging her, a huntress many years your senior, would only make you sound like a petulant child. So you resorted to glaring at her, which only made the corner of Fennec's mouth tug into a small smirk.

Eventually she turned from you, swaying back into the bedroom and tossing another remark over her shoulder: "Breakfast is served at dawn, so don't sleep in and don't expect the kitchen to have a plate saved for you if you do."

You sighed in frustration, even if she couldn't hear the sound. Yet then you followed her, finding she had plopped herself on your vanity, smirking as if to challenge you to shoo her from there. You didn't bother, instead coming to balance yourself on the edge of your bed across from her, feeling the mattress give under your weight.

"So." You directed to her after a moment, gaze coming up to meet her mischievous dark eyes. "I'm to be...what exactly? Trained as a bounty hunter?"

"An assassin." Fennec clarified.

"An assassin." You echoed, nodding and turning over the thought for a moment. "But I already have training."

Fennec merely scoffed, tossing her head to throw an errant strand of inky hair from her face.

"Have you ever completed a mission on your own?" She asked directly, and you shifted uncomfortably under her scrutinous stare.

"Well...no...but-"

"Have you ever even been on an assignment?" She pushed further, making you only wither further under her gaze.

"N-not exactly..."

"Then clearly you aren't trained enough." She concluded at last, gloved fingers tapping on the metal surface of the vanity. "We'll have to change that."

"And the purpose is...what? To challenge my brother?" You asked, drawing your gaze from your lap to regard her. "It's not like I can just go back and challenge him to a duel."

"No." Fennec agreed with a shrug. "But there's other ways to achieve what Boba wants."

Boba she said, you mused silently. You had heard her use the name before, not referring to him as daimyo or 'Lord Fett' or something equivalent. No, Fennec referred to the King of Tatooine by his first name, and only that.

They must have a close relationship, you pondered, mouth tugging in thought. Perhaps she knew far more about the former bounty hunter than you originally realized. Maybe she even knew the things you had yet to find out, that which nagged you at the back of your mind.

"Speaking of..." You ventured, and Fennec's eyes glinted with interest. "Are there any other duties that...Lord Fett expects of me?"

"Duties?" Fennec repeated blankly, brow quirking as she waited on you to elaborate.

You shifted under her gaze, your toes curling against the slatted floorboards beneath your bed.

"It's just...well-" You stammered, unsure about how to exactly phrase the question. "I mean, you know how rumors are in the underworld. Sometimes you...hear things-"

"Like what?" Fennec's voice was a little sharper now, and you further grimaced, feeling for all the world like this was a mistake. Yet there was no backing out now, because even if you dismissed your inquiry Fennec would only push you until it spilled out from you.

"Like Fett owning slaves." You blurted out at last, the words tumbling from you far too quickly.

Fennec's face was unreadable as your eyes darted up to look at her. Yet you could see the barest hint of bitterness there, shielded under the tight purse of her lips.

"I-it's just-" You tried, voice sounding almost feeble now, unsure. "I mean, Bib Fortuna had slaves, and so did Jabba. Everyone's heard a-about how those girls were treated, so-"

"I can assure you Boba has no interest in such things." Fennec interjected, and you couldn't help but flinch at the iciness in her tone, the undercurrent of hostility there.

"...Of course." You returned, eyes still downcast to your feet. Yet despite Fennec's words your thoughts from earlier still slithered at the back of your mind, of your fears of being called upon at some dark hour when no one else was around, of-

"Boba opposes slavery." Fennec declared, narrowing her eyes at you. "Just because his predecessors allowed it doesn't mean he does."

You shifted under Fennec's stare, bringing your arms a little closer to your body as if they could warm you from her frigid gaze. You didn't reply, feeling somewhat ashamed of yourself for even asking the question. It made sense, of course. Fett was not a Hutt. Just because he used to work for one didn't mean he involved himself in such debauchery. Far from it, based on your brief encounter earlier he seemed like an honorable man.

Fennec sighed, and you winced at the sound, expecting a further tongue lashing. Yet her next words weren't nearly as sharp, instead seeking you out in a semblance of reassurance.

"I'm not sure exactly what rumors run through your family, princess." Fennec began, and you shyly lifted your gaze to peer up at her through your lashes. "But Boba isn't the type of man to let those around him suffer needlessly, even if he is a crime lord."

You nodded blankly, mulling over her words.

"T-then..." You ventured at last, kicking your feet a little as a distraction. "I won't be expected to be...c-called upon?"

"What? As a bed-warmer?" Fennec asked candidly, and your mouth drew into a tight line, not answering the huntress. "No. Absolutely not."

Your shoulders sank at that, posture deflating in relief. Yet you still didn't meet Fennec's eyes, instead curling your fingers into the bedspread and letting silence wane between you.

"It's against his beliefs for him to force himself on someone." Fennec provided after several long moments, and the soft entreaty of reassurance there somehow made the guilt in your stomach twist tighter. "Not that he'd ever entertain the idea, least of all not about one of his employees. I'm sure he'd be offended if he heard you even ask that question."

That made your eyes shoot up sharply towards Fennec, face aghast at the insinuation of her words. Yet she merely regarded you silently, holding your gaze and searching there for something you didn't know was there.

"I-I didn't mean-"

"Relax, princess." She sighed after a moment, leaning backwards in her chair. "I won't tell him. You're probably just scared after everything that's happened."

"I'm not...scared." You tried to protest sullenly, but Fennec didn't seem to believe you, arching a single eyebrow at you.

"Sure." She conceded, pushing off the vanity, but you could still hear in her tone she remained unconvinced. You watched as she rolled her shoulders for a moment before turning towards the archway leading out of the bedroom.

"I'll have a droid bring you something from the kitchen." Fennec tossed over her shoulder as she swayed past the seats in the antechamber, headed for the door. "Consider getting some rest, you've got an early start tomorrow."

You didn't get a chance to ask her what he meant before she vanished, the door swinging shut after her.

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The dying light of sunset cast bleeding colors across the horizon of the Jundland Wastes, their colors reflected in amber eyes as Boba Fett stared out past the west balcony of his palace. He was still, his helmet balanced on the railing beside him, its black visor catching the scant light that was still cast by the twin suns. Behind him, the sheer curtains of his chambers blew out into the evening air, wavering gently in the breeze.

The daimyo was silent, contemplative, eyes staring forward and yet unseeing, gazing at something farther, beyond the sand dunes. The barest glimpse of memory played before his stare, a worn thread connected into the far past, one frayed by time and age.

A warm voice, a confused question, an angered cry that was silenced by the sound of a blaster shot, then a smoking silence that bled out into the hallways, choking the air around him into an inescapable miasma.

Boba closed his eyes, trying to push down the unsettled murmur in his stomach. Yet even as he did the thought seemed to haunt him like a whisper at the back of his mind.

The scars on the inside took much longer to heal, he had told Fennec. How true that statement was.

The huntress should be done showing his new protege to her rooms, it occurred to him, drawing away the veil of memory back into the present. Fennec was efficient that way, although she had shot him a mild look of annoyance in the throne room earlier at his request for her to escort his 'guest'. He could almost hear a complaint muttered under her breath from the expression alone.

"I'm not a babysitter, Boba."

He huffed a small laugh at the thought.

Fennec had been the first one besides himself to question his decision regarding the heiress. Despite willingly assisting him with her injured form, she had climbed up to the seat beside him on Slave I and had immediately inquired about his intentions. At the time Boba hadn't answered her, still pondering his response himself.

In truth Boba hadn't originally intended on accepting this...alternative form of payment. He had come to collect on the outstanding debt owed to him by the boy-king and nothing else. Considering all he had done for the now-house leader, and his threat to expose it, he thought the boy would surely accept the terms of the arrangement, or at least offer to negotiate.

Yet he had also seen the menace, the barely concealed animosity in the gaze of your brother as he awaited you at the top of the steps. You must not have noticed beyond your trepidation, for you came to stand beside him with your face desperately trying to hide your confusion and apprehension.

It was only once Axias had hoisted your hand in a bold, impertinent declaration that your expression had finally fallen, and with it, your figure as well. You had given a single cry as your body bounced off the stone steps, and even Boba had heard the sharp crack of something snapping from where he had stood.

Boba found himself oddly compelled to assist your fallen form despite his quickly rising fury at the house leader for doing such a dishonor to him. Boba considered revealing the details of their arrangement then and there, laying bare the truth of his arrangement with the heir. More than that, he expected you to cry, to beg for mercy and plead with your brother. Yet instead, you had similarly turned your fury on him, your voice lashing out at the same volume he lay unto you.

It was oddly fascinating, watching you snarl like some untamed creature. Boba found himself momentarily captivated by the sight of you in your silk garments, your skirt pooled around you like some strange river, the fabric shifting under the chandeliers. Yet you were far removed from that elegance, crumpled by your injury but rising to the challenge of your brother's words despite.

"I accept."

The words had left him before they could fully form in the veil of his thoughts, and he soon found himself at last the focus of your gaze. Terrified as your eyes were, Boba could see behind them lurked a spark, a fire that whispered of rebellion, determination, a refusal to be tamed.

A wild animal indeed, he thought, as you hissed and snarled at him, refusing to allow him to disgrace you with his touch. Even when you had faltered, barely able to stand upright by yourself, you had rejected his aid vehemently, hissing the words like a scared, feral creature.

It was only once Boba was alone outside the grand hall that he realized what he had done.

A lifetime's worth of credits. The equivalent of an army, gone, and instead he found himself with an untamed brat from a house that would soon be his enemy.

His own poor judgment astounded him.

It was too late to return you, to demand his sum be paid in full, but for a moment Boba had considered it. He could ransom you, he pondered, but that seemed to not be an option with the way your brother had so carelessly tossed you aside. If anything, Boba would have to pay him to take you back, and even then he expected you would not survive.

Yet the thought that ceaselessly repeated itself to Boba at that time had been one of fury, yes, but not his. It was the light that had danced behind your own eyes that compelled him, of your unwillingness to surrender to your fate so easily.

A dark thought had whispered to him then, the selfish temptation dark and sweet like aged Corellian wine. He wanted to see it, wanted to witness that fire burning within you with his own eyes, to stoke it from a small flame into an all-consuming blaze, let it scorch him to the touch.

It was a good plan, Fennec had eventually responded when he had proposed it to her, to forge you within that fire into something sharper, more dangerous and unleash you upon that foolish heir who had regarded him with such impudence. This way Boba could avoid a costly war with the house of assassins, and yet still reap the rewards of conquest. It was also an ambitious plan, dangerous for Boba and his territory, but more so for you. In the end it all came down to your willingness and cooperation, but most importantly: your thirst for revenge.

Boba hadn't honestly believed in the chances of such a strategy until the moment he had held out his hand to you across the throne, had seen that same light of determination flicker behind your gaze once more, dark and almost hungry.

Now he stood atop the palace, watching as the sky darkened and the brightest stars began to bloom against the dark dome of space above.

There was much to do, and the thought of it made his chest deflate with a sigh. The plan had been made in haste, the details barely formed. Boba would have to test you to find your strengths, to order gear, supplies, equipment on top of earning your trust and allying himself with you. Even then he would have to send Fennec to plant the seeds of doubt within the house of assassins, to sow whispers into the hallways and cast a stark shadow upon the young heir. Plus, there was the matter of-

A sound behind him.

Boba turned quickly, startled from his thoughts at the presence of another person approaching the periphery of his senses. It was most likely Fennec, having come to report her preliminary findings of you and discuss the same exact questions that Boba posed to himself.

Yet instead, he found himself faced with a different visage- one of you.

You were still dressed in the sand-colored clothes from earlier, feet still noticeably bare and somewhat dirty from your trek around the palace. Yet what surprised Boba were not those things, but the way you held yourself- subdued, almost shy. It was far removed from your posture earlier- tense even then but in a way that spoke of a cornered animal, ready to fight or flee in a bid for survival. The woman who stood before him now seemed to shift uncomfortably under his gaze, mouth pursed tightly.

"Pardon me, Lord Fett." You spoke, hovering on the threshold of the balcony, the curtains wavering around you, momentarily reminding Boba of the strange sheer fabric you had been clothed in earlier. How had you gotten so close without him noticing? "I...came to thank you."

Boba blinked for a moment, caught off guard by your sudden appearance. Yet then he turned to regard you fully, eyes trained on your form.

"For?" He asked, voice rising in curiosity.

"...The bacta pod." You returned, raising your eyes to look into his directly despite your tight, guarded posture. "I realized I didn't get a chance to thank you earlier."

Ah. Of course. What else had he been expecting?

"Think nothing of it." Boba replied easily. "You are one of my own now, and as such you should be afforded the same fair treatment as everyone else. I would not allow you to be hindered by such an injury."

You nodded, your gaze sincere as you stared at him. Boba returned it, refusing to let his curiosity flicker across his face. The silence between you drew long, and after a moment Boba saw you shift hesitantly, awkwardly.

"If that is all." The daimyo announced, turning and reaching for his helmet resting on the edge of the balcony.

"I...also came to apologize."

Faced away from you now, Boba allowed his eyebrows to raise in surprise, but quickly schooled his face once more before returning his focus to you. Your eyes had shifted once again to your feet now, hands clasped in front of you and mouth drawn into a thin line as you contemplated your next words.

"It...seems as if I misjudged you." You admitted at last, voice quieter now, carried by the soft wafting breeze between you both. "-and that I insulted you."

Boba blinked, but otherwise gave no indication of his interest in your statement. Mentally, he tried to recall exactly which instance you referred to. The number of names you had called him before finally realizing his intentions seemed incalculable. Perhaps it was when he had cornered you in the hangar and you had referred to him as a mere bounty hunt-

"I thought that you were dishonorable." You went on, grimacing. "When you took me from Nar Shaddaa I assumed the worst- that perhaps I'd be killed, or enslaved, or..." You hesitated, your next words resting on the tip of your tongue and balancing there precariously. "...forced into something against my consent."

Boba felt himself rise, his next breath feeling as if it had expanded him, muscles coiling in anger. Yet it made sense now, the reason you had tried to flee not once but twice, how you had fought him so, and had looked at him in the throne room with such abject terror Boba himself had briefly hesitated.

Was that what you thought of him? As some filthy Hutt, intent on keeping you as nothing more than a prize? A slave? Something tangled in the sheets of his bedroom?

The offense of it smarted against his skin, and Boba felt his jaw clench uncomfortably. Yet that discomfort was not from the insult of your regard itself, but from the fact that he had laid such an impression on you in the first place.

"I-I was scared." You supplied upon seeing the wrath that darkened his expression. "I admit, I should have thought better, but you have to understand that when Axia- ...when my brother had offered me as payment, that I assumed-"

Boba took a step closer to you, and he realized his mistake too late. Even though you didn't retreat, choosing instead to hold your ground, you flinched at the motion, expecting the daimyo to lash out at you for the offense of your presumptions.

"Look at me." He spoke, words rumbled deep from his chest, sounding like the thunder of distant storms from his home world of Kamino.

To his surprise you did after a moment, taking a small breath and raising your eyes to look at him despite the doubt that lingered there. Boba found his eyes tracing over the planes of your face, from the tight draw of your lips to the slope of your nose to your unwavering gaze, scared as it was.

"I do not take part in the same debauchery of Jabba or that weasel Bib Fortuna." Boba declared, voice tenored deep between you. "I despise it. To suggest I would indulge myself in that filth is a grave offense."

Shock, fear, cast a darkened shadow across your expression. Your lips parted, to apologize, to justify your assumption, perhaps. Yet Boba's voice cut you off all the same.

"-But I do not blame you for it."

He waited for you to process his words, making sure you would not speak before continuing.

"You were cast out, offered in exchange for credits and given to a stranger you did not trust. More than that you were not given any indication that I would not act in such a way."

Boba paused, a grimace overcoming his features. A weight hung low in his stomach, uncomfortable and heavy with guilt.

"For that I owe you an apology."

You blinked several times, and Boba couldn't help a small murmur of amusement inside him at the motion, as you tried to vainly summon a proper response. The fear was gone from your gaze now, replaced there by a sort of strange curiosity of the man before you.

"You're...apologizing to me?" You managed at last. "Even though I-"

"Made a judgment based on fear?" Boba interjected, giving you a nonplussed look.

After a moment you nodded.

Boba felt the corner of his mouth tug for a moment, the ghost of a smile lingering there.

“I gave you my word when I said you’d be safe here.” Boba reminded you, noticing the clear ‘oh’ that formed on your lips despite the absence of sound there. “That includes those within the palace.”

Surprise now etched itself clearly across your face, lips parting and eyebrows arching. Boba paused for a moment, observing the way your gaze had mellowed now, had abruptly revealed the softness in your features that seemed almost…pretty.

He quickly pushed away the thought, not even allowing himself to indulge in so much as a frown at the mental intrusion.

"Let us consider the matter settled." He offered instead, voice easing back into pleasantness as he turned once more to fetch his helmet from the railing. "I assume you know the way back to your room?"

"...Yes." You answered after a moment, tone completely unconvincing.

Boba let a small huff of laughter escape him before he turned back to you and nodded at the stairs leading down into the interior of the palace.

"I'm sure one of the guards will be able to help you find your way." He offered, and you shifted on your feet with a small nod of assent to his suggestion. Yet you didn't make an immediate motion to leave, and Boba arched an eyebrow at you.

"You might want to start back now if you want to be rested for tomorrow." He stated blankly, and your gaze again shot up to meet his.

"Can I ask what you mean by 'tomorrow'?" You ventured at last, and this time Boba couldn't contain a small, keen smile.

"Tomorrow." He replied. "Begins your training."

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If you enjoy this or any of my other writing please consider leaving me a Ko-Fi!

#boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x y/n #TBOBF #reader insert #my fic #my writing #boba fett #Fic: Menagerie

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i-will-give-you-love · 3 years

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I drew soft boi din being oblivious to boba tea fett's hand holding affection. 😌

Baby grogu being cute as usual💕

Poor Din having his breakdown, while boba having no clue what to do.

Bunch of cuties

#din djarin #boba tea #boba fett #bunch of cuties #baby grogu #baby yoda #so cuttteeee #drawing #fanart #the mandalorian #i want to hug them #❤❤❤#bobadin #bobin

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pix-writes · 3 years

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Fennec shand relationship headcanons

A/N: some Fennec shand x reader hc ideas I had (reuploaded from pixellated-sparks, as this is now my writing blog!)

· Fennec isn’t one to be quick to form an opinion on someone let alone like someone, but sometimes she gets a feeling about certain people; one of them was Boba the other one is you (& to a lesser extent - warming up to Din, despite the whole thing with Calican)

·It surprises even themselves how much she initially takes to you in your early friendship

· The first time you visit the Hutt Palace she shows you around the place by taking you by the hand

· Fennec’s not one for pda but she likes to intertwine her fingers with yours, however subtly; it grounds them to know that you’re there within her reach ❤️ (if someone else sees her holding the hand of the cutie next to her in the throne room, no they absolutely did not)

(rest under cut)

·Staying at the palace and being in a relationship with Boba’s right hand bounty hunter is… interesting: be ready for both you & Fennec to know a lot about Boba’s sex/relationship life, and he to know about both of yours 😅

· It would be at least a teensy bit awkward, but the two of them have already given up in caring too much about privacy as they’ve been through a lot together; nothing much phases them anyway, so if you turn up to breakfast clearly covered in hickeys/marks from the night before, you won’t hear anything from Fett about it

· It’s not spoken but you know he’s happy that his friend is happy (not that they’ll admit to anything like that, friends who?). Doesn’t mean he won’t smirk or tease Fennec about it later, though!

· Incredibly considerate gf, remembers even little throwaway things you’ve told her, will make you caff in the morning every morning (if that’s something you’d like/need; will not do anything like that for anyone else)

· Will call you ‘princess’ (condescending, loving) or ‘pretty girl’/’pretty one’; might call you ‘kitten’ or ‘pet’ if you’re comfortable with it

· Surprisingly restless sleeper, will move over the whole bed and take you with her - be prepared to be slapped with an arm across the face in the middle of the night! 😅

· Fennec is quick witted and will joke with you & Boba a lot, expect them both to occasionally tease you about something you’ve done/said like their a fraction of their actual age (they won’t be mean to you, though, its all in good jest)

· Can do excellent braids and will be tempted to braid or play with your hair

#fennec shand x reader #fennec shand x you #the mandalorian imagine #pixwriting #my writing #the mandalorian fanfiction

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bobathirstaccount · 3 years

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Hard to Find Someone Like You

Boba x fem!reader, slow burn to smut (tomfoolery starts end of ch 2 & sex starts in ch 3, I gotchu), some romance, fair amount of plot, Post-Mando 2 Boba

You are a merc serving under Fennec at Fett’s Palace. It’s business as usual until a certain helmet starts tilting in your direction...

TW: unprotected sex, violence (someone gets beat up semi-graphically.. nothing too bad)

Translations (Mando’a)

Hu’tuun - coward (deep insult)

Cyar’ika - sweetheart/ darling

Mesh’la - beautiful

****

CHAPTER SIX

“Finally, she’s awake,” you heard a male voice say.

“Okay, let’s do this,” another one replied.

You looked up, bleary eyed. The back of your head ached.

“Where is he, girl?”

You stared at them.

“Fett, Boba Fett,” the man clarified. You started to laugh. This angered the men and one of them backhanded you, splitting your lip open. For good measure, he also gave you a black eye. “Now let’s try this again. Where’s Fett?”

You laughed again, spitting blood at their feet. “He’s gonna kill you.”

The man who’d beat you grabbed you by the hair and lifted your head up painfully, “Bitch we are the ones in this room with you right now, not him.” He backed off a bit, “Plus he’s just your fucking employer. Give it up.”

You remained silent. It earned you another punch to the face and a kick to the gut. You groaned but didn’t speak.

The men were getting impatient. One of them grabbed a pair of tweezers. “Guess where these are gonna go?” He asked with a nasty expression. You just stared at him, blood dripping down your swollen face. “This is on you, girlie. It’s a shame, you’re a cutie. You won’t be after this.” A flash bang went off, stunning all three of you.

When you recovered you were in a prone position, your bonds cut. You became aware of voices. “... now is there anything else you need to tell me?” That was Boba. “No, no please! That’s all I know. He just hired us to attack Slave 1 and kill you!”

“But yet you were torturing a woman instead. Hu’tuun,” he seethed. Boba slapped him across the face with his armored wrist. The man spit a tooth out and continued to plead. You looked for the other one and found him slumped against the wall. He seemed dead. You directed your attention to your shoulder, which was starting to throb. You gingerly touched it, which made you whimper. 

Boba heard you and turned around, still furious. He walked over to you and knelt, “How are you?”

“Shot.”

He tilted his helmet slightly, “Among other things.” He smoothed your hair back from your face, studying you.

“Please, pl.. pl... -“ Boba shot him without turning his head.

“Let’s go home, cyar’ika.” You nodded and tried to stand. You couldn’t. Boba lifted you to your feet. “Can you walk?” You nodded. You walked outside, leaning against Boba, to see the Slave 1 not far away. You breathed a sigh of relief.

***  Once back onboard, Boba put the ship into jump space. He turned to you immediately, “I’ll get the med pack.” He proceeded to patch you up, using a level of gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. Once you were bandaged up, he sat back. “I should not have put you in danger like that, using my ship without myself present.”  You shook your head, “Part of the job.” He looked at you for a moment, “It will not happen again. If they knew who you were, who knows what could have happened.” He placed a strong hand on your knee. You looked quizzically at him, “Who am I?”

“Someone who is... important to me.” He straightened.

The pain killer was kicking in, “Ayy calls us fuck buddies.”

He laughed. “I should have had this descriptor when Fennec asked me.” You were stunned, “What?”

“She asked in so many words.” You swallowed thickly. “Are you embarrassed?” His helmet tilted.

“No! I just,” you stumbled over your words, “I just don’t know what it says about me.”

He tilted his head the other way, confused.

“I worked hard to get where I am. Now it looks like favoritism.”

He shook his head, “Fennec doesn’t feel that way, and aside from myself she’s really the only person that matters.”

You thought about all the other mercs, gossiping, judging. You shrugged. They were already doing it anyway. The male mercs were unforgiving to any female that tried to weasel their way into prominence in this quadrant. “I guess.”

“What does that mean?” He sounded gruff.

You grabbed the hand that was on your knee and squeezed. “Nothing. I want to be around you and I don’t care who knows.”

He nodded.

***

Ayy and the other dancers babied you, ferrying food and other goods from the palace to your ship. You had elected to recover in Daesha. It felt the safest there. Boba came to visit you nearly every day, frequently running into the dancers. They said nothing, but started giving you heavy knowing looks. It annoyed you.

Finally you were well enough to appear at court. You reappeared on Boba’s left side, an elevated position. No one said anything, but there were looks in your direction from the other mercs. You held your head high. Some people even started to try to curry favor with you. You felt an inkling of power forming. It was strange. You mentioned it to Boba as you laid in bed one night.

“Of course. You can do something for them.”

You walked your fingers across his bare chest, “I don’t like it.”

“That’s a good sign.”

You sighed, “Well I still don’t like it.” He pulled you close. “Get used to it.” He rubbed your hip with his rough hand. “You will get the hang of it. Wielding power is surprisingly easy.” It felt surreal to be told such a thing by Boba Fett.

You were beginning to distinguish two modes: the Great Fett and Boba. Boba was hard to come by, but could be wonderfully soft. Fett wasn’t bad either, but was harder to read and more mischievous. Tonight he was Boba, and so you felt emboldened.

“Boba, what do you want for us?” You asked brazenly.

“Mmm, more of the same. Why? Are you still happy with our arrangement?”

“Yes... I just... like you.”

He snorted. “The list of people who can say that is very short.” You sighed. You had tried to express yourself but done a terrible job. It was probably for the best. Quiet settled over the two of you.

“I am... fond of you.”

You had almost fallen asleep, but your eyelids shot up at this. You wrapped an arm around his torso. “Really?”  ”Don’t get emotional.”

You snorted, but bit back some tears.

“I am not your boyfriend.”

You laughed at the thought of someone calling him that. “Of course not. Boba Fett someone’s boyfriend? It just sounds wrong.” He turned his head to rest his chin on the crown of your head. “You are an enigma.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. He shifted his weight then, and seemed to settle down into sleep. You closed your eyes.

When you woke you were alone. Of course. You stretched and yawned, rolling over. Fett’s armor was still on the side table where he left it for night time. You sat up, looking around the room. It was empty. You tried to figure out what this could mean. He walked out of your fresher with a towel around his waist. He saw you sitting up, “Showered.”

You nodded. He dropped the towel and got into bed. “Come here, mesh’la.” You snuggled into him, enjoying the closeness. His hand ran down your spine, to the small of your back, giving you shivers. You looked up at him adoringly. He stared down at you with a soft, but unreadable expression. Suddenly he cupped your cheek in a large hand and drew you into a chaste kiss. It was shocking but welcome. You kissed back until he pulled away, dark eyes watching you.

You ran your hand over the scar that crossed his face. He sighed gently. You tested and kissed him again. He allowed it but didn’t let you deepen it. When you pulled away, he smiled softly, the sharpness in his eyes diminishing further. He ran a hand down your side, stopping to cup your curves until he reached your ass. You felt yourself growing wet and needy. He grabbed your ass and rolled over, pulling you on top of him. You sat up, straddling him above his hips. You scooted down, pushing down on his chest to do so. His skin was warm and uneven. You thought about him in the Sarlacc, being eaten alive. You pushed the thought away.

You arrived over his cock. You rubbed your already wet pussy against him, feeling him harden beneath you. When he was hard, you directed him into yourself and started to grind, feeling his cock move in your pussy. He watched you as you moved, bringing a hand to cup one of your breasts. You started to slowly bounce up and down on his shaft. He squeezed your tit, making you sigh dreamily. You became urgent, your need to cum becoming overpowering. You felt the overwhelming sensation growing in your pussy.

The feeling of his cock stretching you was almost too much. He grabbed both of your hips and started to fuck up into you, sharp powerful strokes. You hand went to your clit, rubbing frantic circles. You closed your eyes and your mouth fell open slightly. Boba grinned, enjoying the show. You came hard, breathing his name over and over as your pussy fluttered around him. He flipped you over before you could recover and started to fuck you in short strokes. You spread your legs for him, moaning from your orgasm. He slowed down slightly to your confusion. It still felt good, but it was very different sex than you normally had with him. He continued to fuck you almost gently, his head buried in your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask.  ”Yes cyar’ika,” he replied huskily. You rubbed his uneven back with your hands. “Why do you call me that?” You had never asked but often wondered.

“Because you are,” he said into your neck.

“I’m... sweetheart?”

There was a pause in the conversation as he fucked you. “Yes.”

You quieted your mind then and decided to stop asking questions. Instead you said, “Cum in my pussy, baby.” He picked up the pace slightly, keeping his face buried. You wrapped yourself around him, purring. His thrusts became erratic and you could feel him panting into your neck. You decided to try to outdo yourself, “Mmm, cyar’ika you feel so good.” He came then, stiffening and groaning into your hair. He stayed like that for a moment, then rolled off you. You turned on your side and nuzzled into him again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called cyar’ika before.” You smiled. Then you remembered something. “Boba, those ...Mandalorians... why do you have their armor if you aren’t also Mandalorian?”

“The armor... was my father’s.” His tone let you know you were treading on thin ice.

“Was he Mandalorian?” You pressed forward, pushing the edges of your boundary.

“It’s complicated, ad’ika.”

You waited for him to translate. “Hey, you promised to translate new words.”

“Little one.” You looked up at him at this.

He sighed. “I should get up.” He didn’t move.

“Not yet. Stay for awhile with me.”

“Why?”

“Because this is nice.”  He laid with you awhile longer before getting up.

#boba fett smut #boba x reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x you #the mandalorian

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janghoefett · 3 years

Note

Puppy anon here! Hell yes🥺 somebody please give me sugar daddy fett, I’m begging the maker! This powerful image just popped up in my mind, Boba sitting on his throne and you stand next to him with the leash of your tusken or really any other cutie in your hand. Ready to bite everyone as soon as Daddy Boba says he deserves it😫

You know that trope of like a big scary dude who has a cute tiny dog that he absolutely adores and spoils? That’s our friend Boba Fett.

He’d also totally be the guy going, “ugh fine get a dog if you must 🙄” and then end up being the most obsessed with it

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multi-fandom-nutjob · 4 years

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An indisputable character chart

Order: Star Wars OG Trilogy, Star Wars TCW, Epithet Erased, Skullgirls, Marvel, ATLA, and DC

Cinnamon Protagonist, 10/10 would defend again: Luke, Ahsoka, Molly, Filia, Spidey, Aang, Superman

Awe, such a dad: Old Ben, Anakin, Giovanni, Sampson, Iron Man, Katara, Batman

Desperately wants to be taken seriously: Threepio, Obi-Wan, Sylvie, Cerebella, Cap, Sokka, Green Lantern

Morally Ambiguous Dumbass: Chewie, Savage, Indus, Peacock, Hulk, Ty Lee, Harley Quinn

My life is suffering lol: Darth Vader, Maul, Mera, Painwheel, Scarlet Witch, Zuko, Flash

Carry this team, look good while doing it: Leia, Rex, Percy, Parasoul, Black Widow, Toph, Wonder Woman

Kinda Scumbag-Looking, Actual Sweetheart: Han, Hondo, Ramsey, Beowulf, Hawkeye, Iroh, Aqua-man

Likes being evil, wants to be taken seriously: Boba Fett, Grievous, Bonzai Vice Principals, Valentine, Ultron, Ozai, Lex Luthor

Likes being evil, actually serious: Emperor, Dooku, Zora, Marie the Skullgirl, Thanos, Azula, Darkseid

Cutie that sells the merch: Artoo, Artoo again, Bonzai Blasters, Squiggly, Thor, Appa, Shazam

Prove me wrong

#star wars the clone wars #star wars #epithet erased #skullgirls #marvel #avatar #atla #dc comics

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go-diane-winchester · 5 years

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Why many Misha fans want haters and non fans to kill themselves.

I was scratching my head for awhile wondering why Misha's fans behave the way they do. Now I think I might be starting to get a partial clue about that. He is like a cult leader, because unlike Jensen and Jared who just want to be known for the work that they get paid to do, Misha has more time on his hands and uses it to constantly stay in contact with his fans so that their attention is never diverted from him. I found a Psychology Today article that made me smirk. The article is written in the context of a dangerous cult leader but Misha is not that. He doesn't use aggression. He uses sympathy. He puts him in victim mode so that his fans will feel the need to protect him. Remember that mockumentary that made his fans feel sorry for him?

He has also put himself in the position of an authority figure who has an opinion about charity, the LGBT, slash fiction, feminism and politics amongst other things. He rarely speaks about the canon aspects of his character and the canon of Supernatural. And yet he was a director. His sub group of fans, especially destiel fans, would not have gotten any attention from him, had he been a normal, agenda free individual. Because he does something as unusual as giving slash fans attention, they latch onto him because they are not going to get that attention elsewhere. Hellers and minions identify with Misha because he presumably cut himself on the thigh as a ''fat'' child. I have seen some of his childhood pictures. He was not fat. Quite a cutie actually. Cutters will therefore identify with him even though, he has told many lies about his childhood.

These are some of the traits that Psychology Today listed. I had to remove some that fit a dangerous cult leader more than the sympathy junkie that Misha is. There are some that don't have additional information in bold, because although they feel like Misha traits, I don't have a pinpoint example. Or there are too many examples. If you wish to contribute to the updating of this list, please let me know.

He has a grandiose idea of who he is and what he can achieve. [He refers to himself as an Overlord]

Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, or brilliance. [Used Gish to break Guinness World records]

Demands blind unquestioned obedience. [calls his fans minions. A minion are a servile or unimportant follower or underling of a powerful person]

Requires excessive admiration from followers and outsiders. [Expected fiction authors to write stories about him for free]

Has a sense of entitlement - expecting to be treated special at all times. [wanted to be in the TVGuide graphic despite having no right to be on it]

Is arrogant and haughty in his behavior or attitude.

Has an exaggerated sense of power (entitlement) that allows him to bend rules and break laws. [wants NASA to do Gish related things for him in outerspace. Admitted to stealing passes from the White house]

Takes sexual advantage of members of his sect or cult. [pandering destiel, and asking Gish participants to do half naked challenges despite knowing that there might be underage participants]

Is hypersensitive to how he is seen or perceived by others. [During the Giving Back Tour, a con headed by him only and not J2, he pitched up only on the Sunday, the way that the leads do for their cons, perhaps to be percieved as a lead himself. They have a valid reason. They are working till the last minute. He had no reason to not be present from Friday evening. He wants to be like J2. That con flopped. - thanks for reader inputs because I didn't know this.]

Publicly devalues others as being inferior, incapable, or not worthy. [calls destiel shippers perverts]

Makes members confess their sins or faults publicly subjecting them to ridicule or humiliation while revealing exploitable weaknesses of the penitent. [pointed out the lap dancer, while she was asking a question and showed the butt plug for no reason even though he could have reported the lapdancer and refused the butt plug]

Has ignored the needs of others, including: biological, physical, emotional, and financial needs. [no support for J2 during the Nolacon scandal, or for Jared during various heller attacks, but spoke up for Danneel because it secures heller sexual fantasies - I have an inkling that HatersOfDanneel might be minions which is why he stopped them, to show her how supportive he is. Who knows, maybe he set up to do this, so he could rescue her.]

Is frequently boastful of accomplishments. [the receipts can fill a book]

Needs to be the center of attention and does things to distract others to insure that he or she is being noticed by arriving late, using exotic clothing, overdramatic speech, or by making theatrical entrances. [like the chair gag at Comic Con which garnered sympathy from fans, and constantly drawing lewd attention to himself during panels where he is with others. He didn't like sharing a panel with Sebastian Roche, because Sebastian can out-crass him, and is obligated to sit through a Jared panel because Jared can also be provocative if he so wishes, but enjoys being in a panel with the sexually restrained Jensen, perhaps because it puts him in a powerful position. And he seldom just steps on stage. He must say or do something first: like an accent or something similar. Once he wore a severely torn T shirt under his jacket and made sure he showed everyone on stage. The man cant afford a T shirt?]

Doesn’t seem to listen well to needs of others, communication is usually one-way in the form of dictates. [called Jensen a motherf*cker, for speaking unfavorably about his scenes with Cas being decreased]

Haughtiness, grandiosity, and the need to be controlling is part of his personality. [constantly waving rules set by the CW and CE, for example telling people about the ''I love you'' line, even though he was told not to. He doesn't follow the rules that others are humble enough to follow.]

Behaves as though people are objects to be used, manipulated or exploited for personal gain. [asked Dean and Cas cosplayers to make out for his leery pleasure]

When criticized, he tends to lash out not just with anger but with rage. [there is a gif somewhere of him telling a critical con guest: I don't appreciate your tone when she told him he was queer baiting.] [Edit: A wonderful fan sent me the pictures - Thanks]

Anyone who criticizes or questions him, is called an “enemy''. [calls non-minions haters]

Acts imperious at times, not wishing to know what others think or desire. [smashed a Boba Fett cake in Jared's face, without notifying him that the cake was from a fan and was painstakingly made for Jared's birthday. The cake was inedible after that, and Jared profusely apologized to the fan. How hurt she must have been. Misha took the cake on stage, when he had no business to - Edit: thanks to an awesome reader for this input. I forgot about it, even though it had ticked me off when I learned the truth]

Is superficially charming. [Sometimes he cant even muster up a smile at his photo op, unless it is a Cockles one. He cant even pretend to like his fans]

Habitually puts down others as inferior and only he is superior. [again minion and pervert. Jokes that Jensen and Jared got their jobs on the basis of their looks.]

Has a certain coldness or aloofness about him that makes others worry about who this person really is and or whether they really know him. [when he hugged JDM, fans in the background cheered, and Misha looked at them, shook his head in a fed up, irritated manner before focusing at JDM]

Is deeply offended when there are perceived signs of boredom, being ignored or of being slighted. [told off a fan who said she wasn't supposed to be attending his panel. She was supposed to be asleep. She was called because her name ended up on the question line up. He was so angry, he didn't let her speak. That transcript is difficult to read.]

Treats others with contempt and arrogance.

Is constantly assessing for those who are a threat or those who revere him. [SPN Anti-Bullying Twitter is the most communist thing I have ever seen. It only seeks out Misha critics and does away with them. Its like communism, fandom style. Misha is in close contact with Emily Cleghorn who runs this page and participates in Gishwhes.]

The word “I” dominates his conversations. He is oblivious to how often he references himself. [With Misha it might be the opposite. He tries to project a kicked puppy personality. Watch his body language carefully]

Hates to be embarrassed or fail publicly - when he does he acts out with rage. [Just drink your effen water and get off the stage - could be a joke, or could be something else. Its was said to Jensen who laughed about it, but you never know how he perceived this outburst.]

Doesn’t seem to feel guilty for anything he has done wrong nor does he apologize for his actions. [Didn't apologize for slavery or roofie joke]

Believes he possesses the answers and solutions to world problems. [Gishwhes is more about his ego, wasting food and stripping down to nothing, for his enjoyment more than anything else. But he thinks it will solve problems. Other than creating a spectacle, and reaching the attention of Larry King, it doesn't seem to do any good because what good could the Record breaking largest number of people dressed as French maids do to better the world. And he waste food, whilst taking part in a marathon to end child hunger. He doesn't realize how hypocritical that is]

Believes himself to be a deity or a chosen representative of a deity. [Haha, I don't know if bragging about being accused of being the anti-Christ counts, because what decent person brags about that. Just added it here, as a laugh.]

Rigid, unbending, or insensitive describes how this person thinks. [Made Jensen tell the story, during their Jib panel, that made Jensen break down earlier - bashed the Bible]

Tries to control others in what they do, read, view, or think.

Seems to be highly dependent of tribute and adoration and will often fish for compliments. [wanted fiction writers to write a story about him for free - this is worth a second mention because of how arrogant it is]

Uses enforcers or sycophants to insure compliance from members or believers. [Has journalists in media outlets like Geekiary, Hypable and possibly others doing his bidding, including attacking the leads on social media, for saying something contradictory to what Misha is saying. Natalie Fisher of Hypable is more notable for doing this.]

Sees self as “unstoppable” perhaps has even said so. [With regards to Misha, he might say it about Random Acts or Gish because he want to project being 'humble'.]

Conceals background or family which would disclose how plain or ordinary he is. [Lied about being poor to garner sympathy - lied about only receiving elite education, because he has never been to public school, and says he lived on his friend, Darius's handouts, including meals, which makes me wonder how trust worthy Misha's friend is. Because don't elite private schools provide meals and uniforms - lied about being mugged]

A gazillion thank yous to my awesome friend, whom I will now refer to as Sam the researcher, because this is the second obscure piece of evidence that she found for me. I have been looking for it, for too long, fruitlessly. Also thanks for the second and third ones.

@iamacynic seems to think non-Misha fans were born without the faculty of thinking. So this person accused me of being non-empathetic to the fact that Misha was poor and living in a tent. Do you think nobody knows that? When Misha first told the story of being poor and having a druggie for a mother, he got a lot of sympathy, which is why over the years, the story has become more and more elaborate. The Overlord had found his niche. Misha was poor from birth till age 3. Mom married a guy who was loaded and who took over responsibility of Misha and his brother. From 4 till now, Misha has been a rich man. The elite private schools Misha attended cost more than $50 000 per annum. Misha attended Greenfield Centre and then Northfield Mount Herman. He has never attended a public school. And Misha doesn't remember any of that? All he remembers is the first 3 years of his life? Realistically, person will only remember a smidgen of the third year of his life. Unless someone out there remember age one. Raise your hands. Tell us about your extraordinary memory.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/spycatcher/201208/dangerous-cult-leaders

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