Star Wars: One Shots/Preferences

An Exciting Bounty (Boba Fett X Reader, Part Three)

To your disappointment, Boba didn't come to check up on you. 

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was ignoring you. 

He couldn't keep up with this treatment for too much longer, not if he really was going to complete his job and bring you in. 

You were rather bored, lying on the queen-sized bed, mindlessly tossing a sphere-shaped device up and down. 

It was more entertaining then doing absolutely nothing, and you couldn't care less if the device had any significant purpose. 

It was metal, cold and heavy in your hands.

Your nails scraped against certain engravings, some deeper, more defined than others.  

Being left alone with your thoughts, you couldn't keep yourself from thinking about that night. 

He really knew what he was doing, that was for sure. 

You could distinctly remember every touch, every kiss. 

It was enough to send you into a state of pure bliss. 

Your half-lidded eyes were about to close, lost in the vivid memory until the sound of a powerful slam jolted you out of your previous state of mind. 

Sitting up with a sharp inhale, the ball landing in your lap, you're greeted by a fully-suited Boba. 

He had his mask on, so you couldn't exactly tell if he had meant to disturb you or not, but you had a feeling he had.

"You're biting your lip." He nonchalantly states, making you retract, treating his forwardness callously.

With an exhale, he stops leaning against the door. 

"If you're going to spend all your time in my bed, the least you could do is make it." He mutters, perhaps meaning for it to be said under his breath, but you heard it clear as day. 

"I may be your prisoner, but I'm not your maid, Fett." You hiss, turning around, throwing the sphere over onto the pillows in a short fit of rage. 

He goes quiet after that sort of retaliation, but, you don't hear him leave. 

Even though every fiber of your being was telling you to glance over your shoulder, you wouldn't be the first one to give in. 

You were too stubborn for that. 

"You have to be the most hard-headed person I've ever met." His voice cut through the tension, as you barely saw his form in the corner of your eye. 

"Please. Have you met yourself?" You reply, still not giving him the satisfaction of your eyes redirecting to look over. 

In an instantaneous flash of movement, Boba was on his knees, in front of your legs, his hands landing themselves on your thighs. 

He still had his mask on, but his lack of expression didn't keep you from feeling flushed. 

"Fett, what are you doing?" You asked, in the most casual voice you could manage. 

That must have not sounded as smooth as you believed, because once Boba sparred a moment to take off his helmet, you received a knowing look, paired with an exasperated frown. 

He let his locks fall messily onto his forehead, and to keep yourself from making any moves, you had to hold onto the blankets just to keep yourself from getting tempted to brush back his temptingly soft-appearing hair. 

"You've been nothing but trouble from the second I found you at that cantina." He chastises, his thumbs massaging eerily familiar circles along your clothed skin.