#it’s because boba has major brat tamer energy

[acatalystrising]

Okay, so there’s been SO MUCH lovely Boba content lately, and it has been giving me SO many thots! So many, in fact, I simply must share some of them here. And by some, I mean specifically dom, brat tamer!Boba thots. So you’ve been warned. Hehe.

@daimyosprincess @thirsty-boba-fett-posts and @marierg - ALL of you are responsible (in all the best ways I love you guys bunchesss) so feel free to jump in here if you wish hehe, as well as anyone else who is interested!

NSFW below the cut, minors DNI.

• I just KNOW Daimyo Boba could handle a brat. Yes, he’s a bit older (like that’s really going to stop him) and more scarred. But, but…that man is not built like the broadside of a barn with a voice like liquid sin for no reason. Boba likes a good challenge, always has, and that definitely would still be the case for the bedroom.

• He would secretly love the fact that you feel safe enough with him to push your luck. He knows of his reputation - hell, he forged it that way on purpose. You are safe with him, and he with you, something that has been built over time. And because if this, you absolutely would test his patience and push every button you could to get a rise out of him. And oh boy, do you get a rise.

• Boba likes you feisty. He likes it when you fight back. Boba is equal parts gentle and rough - a duality that can swing either direction depending on the moment. But when he gets rough…you’d better expect there to be marks. Small bruises, hickeys, you name it. But only if you want. In this case, you do. You love carrying his marks, little reminders to you and everyone else that you are his alone.

• And you better bet that Boba knows how to tame a brat. You think you’ve got the upper hand? Wrong. The man was a bounty hunter for years. There is no way you get in and out of that profession without a few kinks. (Or a lot.) Binders? Pressure points? Restraint? Bingo. But his greatest weapon in this sort of situation is something you initially underestimated and are now dearly paying for…his voice.

• Boba is a KING at dirty talk. The man loves making you squirm, and he knows you have a thing for his voice (how could you not?) and shamelessly uses that to his full advantage.

• So how could this all play out? I’m glad you asked. Here’s a little snippet below, feel free to add your thots!

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“Think you’re so clever now, princess?”

A sharp whine bubbled from your lips even as you struggled underneath him, panting breaths fogging his visor. His grip on your arms tightened as he pulled them further over your head, big hands not giving you an ounce of wiggle room to escape.

“Oh, come on, I was just teasing.” You swallowed, but it felt like your heart was working it’s way up your throat. “You don’t seriously think I’m just going to give up without a-”

Boba shifted both of your wrists to one hand, the other removing his helmet with a hiss, then slipping around your throat. You were caged beneath him, underwear already soaked, his weight pressing you into the bed. And his hand at your throat? You could barely string a sentence together.

“Keep talking and your punishment will only be worse.” His breath was hot on your ear, lips mere centimeters from your skin. He caressed your throat with a lone finger, and you shivered. “You want kisses? Want me to fuck you senseless?”

You nodded, sweat beading on your forehead, a moan ripping from your throat when he licked your ear, nibbling on it with a growl.

“Mesh’la,” his eyes found yours - they were sinfully dark, commanding. A cunning smirk curved on his lips like a knife. “Use your words.”

“Oh gods, just fuck me,” you wriggled beneath him, purposefully shifting so your thighs rubbed against his swelling erection. Two could play this game, after all. “You win. Fuck me.”

But Boba Fett, damn him, only shook his head with a cluck of his tongue, lowering his face to the crook of your neck. He pinned you with ease, stopping even the slightest of squirms, yet again reminding you exactly how kriffing strong he was, and who you were dealing with.

As if you could ever forget.

“Use your manners. Only good girls get what they want,” his tone was teasing, dripping with mirth, victory, and something altogether deadly. He pressed a kiss to your pulse point. “What’ll it be? Can my little brat say please?”

You whined - maker, kriffing, whined. A war waged in your flustered brain between the urge to push back and the desire for him to fill you. Boba chuckled, licking a stripe up your neck.

“Aww, can’t use your words, hmm?” He shifted to pull away with an indifferent shrug. “Well that’s too bad.”

Oh maker no. He wouldn’t.

He would.

“No, wait!” You leaned forward, cheek pressing against his chest armor with a whimper. “Please, I…I’ll be good. I won’t cause any more trouble. Just…fuck me. Please please fuck me. I can’t, can’t…”

Boba smirked down at you, absolutely relishing his effect on you, and moved his hand at your throat to your cheek.

“Oh, poor thing,” his tone was absolutely dripping with pseudo mockery as he gave your cheek a pinch. “So flustered you can’t think? And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Boba, please…” you squeezed your eyes shut, breaths nearly a sob. “Please, please, I need you. Need you so bad.”

“Hmm, well,” Boba’s eyes flashed predatory in the dark, lips curving in a victorious grin. “If you insist.”

His hand on your cheek slid down your body and between your legs, and he chuckled when he felt the evidence of your arousal at his fingertips.

“Poor little princess,” he kissed you, keeping you pinned down, fingers circling your clit. “So needy. So desperate. All for me.”

“Y-yes, all for you,” you tried to nod, words choking to moans when he slipped one of his thick digits inside you. “Only you.”

You were so wet you could hear the slick of his fingers against your flesh, Boba’s heartbeat thundering in your ears, his breaths ragged - hot and needy and desperate. You once again found yourself marveling at his restraint. How he could hold himself back at all was a…

He slipped a second finger inside you, curling them to your stomach, striking that devastating spot inside you with such accuracy it had you wriggling beneath him with a loud cry. Pleasure grew like a furnace, steadily growing hotter and hotter, until it overflowed in a spray of fiery sparks and phthalo phosphorescence - all captured in your guttural cry as you careened over the edge.

When you finally came back to your senses, Boba was holding you close to his chest, his beskar blissfully cool against your burning skin. He ran a gentle hand through your hair, chuckling when you leaned into his touch.

“Ahh,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, tone low, teasing. “So she can be a good girl after all.”

You halfheartedly grumbled, cheeks heating in a wild blush, and curled against him with a sigh. A rumbling chuckle reverberated through his chest as he cupped your chin, directing your gaze at his.

“Catch a breath, little one,” he kissed you once, then twice, then again, mouth searingly hot like a branding iron. “Because I’m not through with you, yet.”