boba fett's princess ✨

The truth remained though that that’s just what this date was – a match made by your mother. And you felt the appropriate enthusiasm for it which was none at all.

That did not mean, however, that you could not be pleasantly surprised by a nice evening. When your taxi pulled up to the The Arconia, a turn-of-the-century luxury hotel that hosted weekly dances and dinners, you were still surprised that someone like Joe Berenson had it in him to plan what was essentially your dream date. 

Ever since you had moved to Mandalore, you had wanted to put on your best dress and go out dancing. While many things about life with your parents had annoyed you or even damaged you to the point where you knew you didn’t want the life they loved, you had always enjoyed your dance lessons. Getting to dance while a live band was playing in a gorgeous ballroom with your favourite dress? That was just magical.

“That looks wonderful,” you commented as Joe helped you out of the car, “I’ve always wanted to go. How did you think of it?”

“I didn’t, he did,” Joe shrugged, “And he will meet us there.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you followed him up the stairs into the hotel. Something scratched at the back of your mind, a desire for who you wanted this mysterious He to be. But you also did not want to be disappointed. Your life wasn’t a romance novel or one of those Hallmark movies you loved to watch around the holidays. Your life was just that: your life. And it was your responsibility to make sure you would get through it unscathed without any unnecessary heartbreak.

The interior of the Arconia was just as stunning as the outside and when Joe led you inside, the room was already quite crowded. The dim light from the chandeliers bathed everything in a golden light and your heart soared. This looked just like in the movies.

“So, you won’t you tell me why Coach Fett approached me after practice and threatened that if I so much as touched you I would be on the bench for the rest of the season?”

You wished you could act surprised or maybe even shocked at that statement. But you had trusted Boba when he told you he would take care of it and the thought that he would risk his involvement for you getting out in the open warmed your heart. “He did?”

Joe nodded, taking your coat from you and giving it to the staff at the entrance. “It was pretty intimidating, too. But who am I to complain, an evening of free drinks and a chance to flirt my way through Mandalore’s elite? That’s my dream right on a silver platter.”

“Wait, he is paying for this?”

“Uh-huh, said if anyone gets to invite his omega out for a fun night, it’d be him.”

His omega. His omega. His omega.

“He said that?”

The music grew louder the closer you got to the dance floor. Many couples were already dancing and the ones that weren’t were enjoying drinks and appetizers around the edge of the ballroom. The painted ceiling was just begging to be admired and maybe you could have done it, if you weren’t so busy trying to think about the fact that Boba Fett had called you his omega.

His omega.

You had never thought of yourself as belonging with someone. After all, who would want an omega with no real scent, a dysfunctional relationship to their parents and oftentimes too busy doubting herself to engage with the real world? But now that you thought of it, you realized that your heart grew larger, your skin warmer and your cheeks flushed at the thought of being Boba Fett’s omega.

“Listen, I am more than aware that I am used as a decoy here and I’ve decided to just do it for the plot but can we like … establish that he likes you?”

Snapped out of your thoughts of the handsome alpha, you looked at the one before you, feeling caught. “What are you talking about?”

“I can see it all over your face,” he made a circle motion with his finger, “And I can practically smell your questions of me elaborating whether he called you his omega – which, yes, he did – but that’s not the point I am trying to make here. I already have one lovesick alpha in my team and another one is getting married, please for all that his holy, do not bring more drama into my life by pretending like you don’t know Coach is absolutely besotted with you.”

Absolutely besotted?

Your cheeks blazed with a mix of giddiness, shame and doubt. You didn’t know what to say. After his little speech, you felt silly about asking him again if Boba had really called you that. It just seemed too good to be true.

One look at Joe’s unusually serious face had you abandon any plan of asking him about Boba.

“You should meet my friend, Maudii,” you blurted out, “I think you two would get along.”

“Give her my number, will you,” he winked at you, “And now let’s please talk about something other than my coach. I really don’t want to imagine what you two get up to in his office.”

“We don’t – nothing,” your cheeks burned and you grabbed one of the wine glasses a served offered you, trying to cool down with a sip of wine, “We get up to nothing.” Sadly.

“That’s a lie right there,” he smirked at you, “The entire team can all smell how happy he is when he sees you. But enough of that, wanna dance?”

“Really?” you could not hide your surprise this time around. Somehow, you had not expected him to actually want to dance (or even to know dancing).

The moment you stepped foot onto the dance floor, someone tapped Joe on his shoulder.

“Can I cut in?”

Boba was wearing an all-black ensemble. Black slacks paired with a black dress shirt that had the first few buttons undone. Why had it gotten so hot all of a sudden?

You took his offered hand without a word. It was so clear to you what he wanted and you had never been so grateful for this man who seemed to say everything without you having to ask. Also, you weren’t sure if you would even be able to form words. Maybe you needed a bit of fresh air. Or maybe you just needed to bury your face in his neck and play with his chest hair.

Boba was here. Boba had not only organized your date with Joe, he was actually here. Right now. Leading you into a slow dance through all these couples. His hands were touching your waist and your hand, the only things that were currently grounding you to reality.

Stars, if anyone had told you a few months ago that an alpha old enough to be your father would actually crash your date and you would be happy about it, you would have laughed. And then cried.

If only your mother could see you now.

Oh stars. Your mother.

“My – my mother,” you stuttered, your hand squeezing his as panic took hold of you, “What if she finds out? We’re in public and she will be so angry with you!”

“I have it on good authority that they are at the opera today,” he pulled you closer, his mouth on your temple as he expertly led you through the dance. You had never expected him to be such a good dancer but you didn’t even have to think about the music or the rhythm, you could just blindly follow him.

“You look stunning,” he continued quietly. You looked down at the dress you hadn’t worn since you had moved from Coruscant. It was tight across the upper part of your body but flared out from the waist which made it especially fun when Boba twirled you.

“Thank you,” you smiled, allowing yourself to relax. If your parents were at the opera, there was no chance they would go out dancing after. It just was not done. They hadn’t been long enough in Mandalore either to make connections that could report back to them about seeing you here today.

“I’d like to see you in my jersey sometime,” Boba grinned, “Or nothing at all. That would actually be even better.”

“Aren’t you too old to play?” you teased him back, “I don’t think the Raiders offer merch from retired players.”

“Who are you calling old?”

You laughed at the mock outrage on his face. His hands moved to hold onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. A gasp escaped you, your hands landing flat on his chest. He felt warm and sturdy and you wanted to tuck your fingers under his shirt.

“I may be too old to play, but I am not too old to fuck you into oblivion, princess,” he rumbled, “don’t forget that.”

“I can’t forget what hasn’t happened yet,” you bit your lip, “And I’d – I’d like for it to happen actually.”

Your heart was beating so strong you felt like it might fly out of your chest. You would fly right after it, feeling light and airy and so giddy at having said something out loud. You wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to touch you. And you wanted him to know that.

“Like what? Use your words, little one,” he leant forward, eyes dark, “Ask nicely and I might just give it to you.”

A glance around you confirmed that no one was listening in to your conversation “I would like you to fuck me into oblivion,” you admitted in a whisper, feeling breathless, ”I – I would like you to knot me like you said in the bathroom the other day. I want to kiss you again and I want to wake up and feel sore and then do it all over again."

When people talked about remembering something for the rest of their lives, you were convinced it was hyperbole. But when Boba’s mouth descended upon yours in a breath stealing kiss, his hands holding you so close you could feel his heartbeat, before he whispered “Your wish is my command.” You were sure, this would be a night you would remember for the rest of your life.

*

“You booked a hotel room?”

“Didn’t want to risk anyone seeing us getting into my place,” he answered against your mouth, his hands playing with the buttons on the back of your dress, “And I wanted to make sure I only get the best for you.”

“That’s so sweet,” you murmured into the next kiss, stumbling back until you could feel the mattress behind your knees. Your shoes had gotten lost somewhere by the door and Boba’s shirt was lying across the armchair, enabling you to roam your hands over his chest.

“I knew it,” you murmured, “I knew it went over the front.”

“What is it, little one?” Boba asked you, his mouth planting wet kisses on your neck. Your fingers kept tracing over the design on his shoulder that stretched over his left pec. It must have hurt, the solid black design, but you somehow had the suspicion that he had just sat through it with that stoic patience of his.

Tilting your head back, you sighed as his mouth brushed over your scent gland. His scent had gotten a much sweeter note now. Vanilla, maybe? “Nothing, alpha.”

Your dress slipped past your hips with a whisper and your underwear soon followed until you were standing before him, completely bare. You usually weren’t so forward but there was something about having Boba wrapped around you, hazy from his kisses, that made you feel daring. Though not daring enough to not notice the open curtains.

“The windows …” you trailed off, watching the lit-up skyline and your reflection in the glass as Boba kissed you again. His rough hand palmed your breast, your nipples pebbling at the contact.

“No more hiding, omega,” he growled, walking you towards the bed, “I do not have the patience for it today. Let me see how pretty you look, hm? I need everyone to see how gorgeous you are for me.”

The callouses on his hands dragged over the soft skin of your hips and you shivered. There was no mistaking the wetness between your thighs at his words. “Would you like that?” he asked, his gaze dark as his fingers pinched your nipples, “Would you like everyone to know what a desperate little thing you can be for me?”

Being confronted with your own shameless fantasies wasn’t something you had expected to happen. But you also didn’t mind that his words evoked a whole new level of pleasure. “Yes,” you whispered, running your palm over his chest, arching your back into his touch, “I’d love that, alpha.”

“Good,” he growled, “Now get on the bed and spread your legs. Let me see you.”

You did as he asked without hesitation. The bed was soft and springy under your movements, and the blankets felt cool and soft. You turned your back to the headboard, settling your head on the pillow. Being all spread out for him in theory sounded incredibly hot, in practice you found yourself growing shy as you laid down, shuffling your feet apart.

His warm hand closed around your ankle, pushing it even more to the side until you were completely spread out for him. But now there was no time to feel shy when the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your skin, the wetness between your thighs steadily growing. You were sure he could see it shimmer in the dim moon light and streetlights shining through the hotel window.

Boba stood at the end of the bed in just his slacks. His chest was broad, his belly thick with the belt slightly digging into it. Fuck, he looked hot. Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as your eyes caught on the glinting watch on his wrist. This man so handsome and funny and his scent drove you insane and he wanted you. Boba Fett wanted you.

He grabbed your ankle again and you flinched at the contact, ripped out of your musings about him.

“Deep breaths, little one,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your ankle, “It’s just me. Just us.”

You nodded tentatively, “Okay.”

His hand remained on your ankle, keeping your spread as he climbed onto the bed and between your spread thighs. Your eyes never left each other and you drew comfort from the heat of his body. He looked at you, really looked at you and your heart calmed down.

Suddenly, everything grew quiet. Inside and out.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his hands slowly pushing your legs up and apart, “so pathetically wet just for me.”

From someone else, it might have been an insulting comment. Something meant to discourage you. But from Boba’s lips, it came as praise. Something that made you feel precious.

Before you could say anything else, he bent down, his mouth landing on your pussy. Your back flew off the mattress instantly, his tongue swiping over your folds and a groan coming from his chest so deep, you felt it in your bones.

Your hands twitching, seeking something to hold onto and finding only the cotton sheets beneath you.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted, “You taste delicious, omega.”

His rough tongue dragged over your clit, making you shiver. “Boba!”

“Is my girl close?” he asked, putting his hand on your lower stomach, gently pressing down as he pushed a finger inside you with the other. “You look like you want to come so bad for me, your hands are just gripping those fancy sheets.”

“Yes,” you gasped, “Yes, I want to come, I – I am so close, alpha, please –“

“Good. Then play with your tits.”

You were thinking too long about it, though, because Boba’s mouth disappeared from your pussy, leaving you aching. “C’mon, little one, pinch your pretty nipples. I can’t do it, I gotta hold you open and play with that pretty clit of yours. You just need a little bit more, hm?”

There was very little you wouldn’t do if he told you to. Putting your hands on your chest, therefore, was just as easily done as it was said. Your nipples felt rock-hard as you carefully circled them, teasing yourself with featherlight touches before rolling them between your fingertips.

“Harder.”

You pinched harder, the pleasure mixing with pain that had your back arching and your pussy fluttering. Boba must have noticed because another finger sank inside you, crooking slightly as he sought out a spot that had your muscles tensing.

“Good girl,” he mouthed at your inner thighs, looking up at you from between your legs, “You take instructions so well. I wonder how well you take my cock.”

“Really well,” you assured him, your words frantic as pleasure took over, “Really well, Boba, I promise.”

“Then come for me so I can see for myself, hm?” He hummed, the vibrations on your clit making you see stars as you reached your peak.

Boba pulled back, his face focussed on where you were still clenching around nothing as wave after wave of pleasure ran through you. He looked very smug, and way too sexy, considering how dishevelled you felt. His mouth was glistening with your juices and even in the throes of climax, you still felt like you couldn’t get enough of him.

Your knees were still angled toward your chest, your pussy aching, when Boba’s hands started to undo his belt. It was too dark to see the details but you knew what he looked like and the thought of finally having him inside you paired with the sound of his pants hitting the floor, had your breath catching in your throat.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since you caught me in the shower,” he confessed, his hands moving up and down, “I wanted to bend you against the tile and take you right there. Ruin you for anyone but me.”

“I wanted that too,” you whispered, “I still want that.”

Boba climbed over you, his weight settling between your hips, his mouth brushing against yours. Your breaths were mingling and you lifted your arms, wrapping them around his neck to keep him as close as possible. “Keep your legs open … yeah that’s good,” the push of his cock inside you made you hiss with the stretch, your body straining to accommodate him, “That’s a good girl for me.”

“Uh-huh,” you whimpered, “Give me a minute, I – you –“

His body stopped moving, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. Only when you nodded did he push in another inch, slowly, slowly, until there was no air left in your lungs and your pussy was fuller than it had ever been.

“I’m big I know,” he kissed you softly, slowly straightening up until he was kneeling between your legs. “You*re doing such a good job for me, princess, taking all of me.”

When he started to move, you already knew it wouldn’t take long for you to come apart on his cock. He was thick and long and his thrusts had your walls constantly adjusting around him. You would never quite get used to him and that was exactly what you seemingly needed. Your head rested back against the pillow, letting the older man fuck into you with no restraint.

Boba’s fingers rubbed your clit just so, causing your eyelids to flutter. Your legs started aching, trembling. There was nothing you could do but whine into the hot air between you. Boba filled you so completely, it was hard to imagine ever not feeling empty when he wasn’t inside you.

“Aww,” he tutted, his hand cupping your cheek, “Look at you, princess. You’re taking it so well for me. Your hole feels so fucking good. You like being a fleshlight for me, don't you?”

Caught somewhere between shaking your head, nodding eagerly and finding your words, all you managed to do was whine, fighting to keep your eyes open and on him. Boba looked down at you with an intensity that already had you on the edge of coming on his cock.

“Don't be so quiet,” he winked at you, “You sound so good when I'm inside you. So fucking perfect. You're so good at being my dumb little toy.”

Your walls clenched around him at his words, your belly fluttering. A warning sign of what was to come. Or rather who.

“Go ahead,” he mocked you, “You know what to do, little one. Ask me if you can come.”

You pouted, tears threating to spill over your cheeks from overstimulation. He had already fucked you through it once but you could feel it crest again and of course he could, too. His cock drove into you, again and again, hitting a spot that would make you see stars.

“P-please, alpha,” you gasped, “Please can I come?”

“Oh, you’re such a good girl for me, so polite,” he leant forward, his chest pressed against yours until you were properly folded in half. His thumb tugged at your bottom lip in a gesture that was kind of mean but also way too hot for you to complain about, “Yeah, you can come. Come all over my cock, princess. Makes it easier for you to take my knot, hm? And that’s what you want, isn’t it? My thick cock isn’t enough, you want my come and my knot locking it in, huh?”

You were pretty sure your eyes glazed over as yet another climax crashed over you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and for a few second, you only saw blinding white, your fingers gripping him tighter to make sure you were still here. That this was real.

What certainly was real was the sound of him groaning, his shaft pulsing inside you as he came. Something caught at your entrance and your eyes flew open. His knot. That was his knot growing inside you.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, “Prettiest pussy I ever came in.”

He was still coming though. He filled you and filled your until you were sure it had no other chance but to spill out of you and the thought made you clench, wanting to not lose any piece of him. Thankfully, you did not have to worry about it. His knot was thick enough to keep it all inside.

Both of you completely out of breath, Boba first kissed your lips and then your cheek. You nuzzled into him, craving his touch even more now. Your legs were still trembling on his shoulders and you could feel a numbness starting in your thighs. As if he could sense it, Boba’s hand ran from your hip over the side of your legs, gently pushing it from his shoulder and wrapping it around his hip.

Rolling onto his side, he took you with him and you sighed in relief. Your back was sticky with sweat and the cool air over the skin paired with Boba’s heat to your front soothed you.

“Can we stay like this?” you asked into the quiet, “Can we just … stay?”

“Of course,” he murmured against your forehead, “Anything you want, omega.”

*

Three days later you were kneeling on sticky vinyl flooring, your knees aching from the position, your hands gripping tightly onto fabric and your mouth full of cock.

Boba’s groan was quiet, as if he was biting into his hand, and it only spurred you on further. Your throat ached with the fullness of him and you tried to swallow, your throat constricting around his shaft.

“Fuck, you look so good like that,” he rumbled, his other hand finding the back of your head, gently guiding your forward, “Can you take me deeper, princess? I know you want to. Always so eager to impress, hm?”

You surged forward again, relishing in the heavy feeling of him on your tongue. You knew you most likely looked a mess. There was spit on your chin, threatening to drop into the neckline of your blouse and you were pretty sure your mascara was doing overtime not to smear over your cheeks. None of it bothered you.

The past 72 hours had just been full of … him. Every waking moment you had, you had spent with him. After your night in the hotel, Boba had taken you out for breakfast and a walk in the park before dropping you off at your apartment where Maudii had bombed you with countless questions. By the time lunch rolled around, you had started missing him and he seemed to feel the same because he had texted you then.

When dinner came, so did you – on his mouth.

Saying goodbye this morning was only bearable because you knew you would see him again in time for the game. You had not quite expected to grow so needy for him, desire pulsing through your veins, but when you entered his office, the call sheet for the press interviews in hand, you just needed to see him roll up his sleeves in order to fall to your knees for him.

“My my, you really enjoy this, huh?” he teased you, “My sweet little omega loves to choke on some fat cock any chance she gets. Who would’ve thought? Certainly not my team outside or the press waiting for their interview. They have no idea how starved you are for pleasure, hm?”

Shame burnt your cheeks but the truth of his words made your thighs clench. You took him even deeper, past that point in your throat that usually made you gag. But the sound that left him at that had your eyes flutter closed. There was nothing you would ever enjoy as much as bringing him pleasure.

Boba came with a groan down your throat. Salty, thick spurts of come that you swallowed down as best you could. Both because you wanted to and because you needed to make sure to leave as little evidence of your impromptu rendezvous as possible.

His hands scooped you up under your elbows, gently helping you stand even when your knees protested.

“Thank you,” he grumbled, “I needed that.”

His voice was gentle and soft – so unlike his gruff attitude on game days – and you leaned into him. Boba stood up, immediately wrapping you in a tight hug that had your breath even out and your eyes closing for a few sweet moments. Right now, you could still pretend that everything was just as it should be. That the world outside couldn’t touch you, not when you were in the safety of Boba’s arms.

Your nose twitched. There was that sweet scent again, the vanilla one. Could a person’s smell change? You really enjoyed Boba’s coffee scent, though, would vanilla even fit him?

“Win for me today,” you whispered, brushing your mouth against his, “Please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” his hand squeezed your hip, “If we win today I might become superstitious. Gotta have you in my bed before every game day then.”

You grinned up at him, “Could imagine worse things.”

*

Boba Fett considered himself a patient man. A man in control. More than once had he been praised for his strategic thinking, the way he kept a cool head in a chaotic game or how no question in a press conference caught him off guard. It was something he had learned from his father and perfected it with every year in the league.

Now with his job on the side lines of the game, it became more important than ever to make sure that he would keep calm while his players lost their minds on the ice. He was the captain steering the ship and no ship could use a captain that would spin the wheel based on the emotion of the hour.

There was nothing that could happen that would cause him to lose his cool.

He might have to make an exception for your parents though.

How he had ended up sitting in the owner’s box with you and your parents, he had no idea. His best guess was that he had seen you up there and his heart had pulled up him up the five flights of stairs, despite knowing that he wouldn’t get to touch you or speak to you in front of them.

That had not prepared him for how miserable you looked.

“I heard that one of our players is being awarded for his community engagement,” his boss – your father – mentioned absentmindedly, scrolling on his phone.

Boba nodded, his jaw tight. “Paz Vizsla. He’s a good one, this recognition from the community means a lot to him.”

“Means a lot to us as well,” your father muttered, looking up from his phone to you, “Is the press department doing something with that?”

“Uh, yeah, I thought we could do a post on the –“

Your father shook his head as if he just had an idea of its own. As if you hadn’t said anything at all. “I will ask Pete at our next meeting. Maybe someone can go to the awards ceremony to cover it. It’s important to capitalize on good press.”

Seeing your shoulders fall and your eyes dim was the worst sight in the world. His hands clenched into fists and he took a deep breath. He missed the vanilla scent. Now all he got as was cold air, full of people that weren’t you. 

“I think you should come, too, darling,” your mother turned to you, “Don’t you think? Meet some new faces. Some new connections might just be what you need!”

Stars above, how much longer could he manage to just sit there without yelling at them to just open their eyes and see you for the wonderful person that you were? It was crystal clear what she meant by new connections and he had half a mind to assure her that you needed no connections at all because you had met him and he intended to spend the rest of his life making you happy. Something that they very clearly had not prioritized yet.

Your eyes met his for just a second. Yet it was long enough to see your sadness and even a little bit of frustration.

“I already went out with Berenson and it was nothing, mom,” you reminded her, “Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, hush now,” she tutted, “You enjoy dancing, too, and I am sure there will be lots of dancing there. Mr Fett has surely been there a few times and can confirm that it’s lots of fun. Right, Mr Fett?”

It was difficult to hide his smile when the older woman looked at him imploringly. Like they were both on the same team to get you to the awards ceremony. And technically, they were. Just for very different reasons.

“Yeah, I will go next week, too,” he looked at you, careful to keep his voice neutral, “It’s lots of fun for the younger people and there is dancing every time.”

At younger people, he spotted you squirm and his smile evolved into a full-on smirk then. There was little that brought him as much joy as flustering you. It offered a hint of the real you, a look behind the mask you so carefully put on in front of people you didn’t want to disappoint.

Somewhere along the line, it had become his mission to get you to drop that mask for him. There was no way you could disappoint him. He knew that. Now he just needed you to know that.

“Very well then,” you murmured, though he could smell the faint hint of vanilla, “I will go to that ceremony if it’s so important to you, mom.”

“See!” your mother clapped her hands, “Was that so hard, darling? Now if you would excuse us, Mr Fett, we have a dress to buy.”

And he could not wait to see you in it.