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.
You hold your breath, his fingers trailing dangerously close to the source of your warmth.
"I'm trying to get a job done, but I have a girl prancing around my ship, acting like it's hers."
You cursed yourself for anticipating every word that flowed from his lips.
He was purposefully tormenting you, that was far from unknown, but you still allowed it to happen.
"I think you like someone keeping you on your toes." You breathe out, your eyes opening to meet his, a smirk gracing past your lips.
Using his hold on you, he tugs your body nearly off the bed, making your back land against the mattress in un-preparation.
He holds his place on the ground, though most of his upper torso was still seen above your legs.
"So quick to assume things." He grunts, his nails digging further into your thighs, spiking some pain throughout your nerves.
You were still resisting the urge to touch him, even if he had practically made the first move at this point.
You wanted to punish him for treating you so carelessly.
Your knuckles were going white from the effort you put into holding onto the bed, and if Boba hadn't noticed yet, he would within any second now.
With one opened-mouth kiss on your thigh, he got a gasp out of you, even if his lips weren't even in direct contact with your skin.
His first kiss didn't have to be perfect. It just had to be enough to make you long for more.
Which is exactly what it did.
Now, you were desperate. Your hands were burying themselves in his hair, your back arched, keeping your head turned to an angle that was just sharp enough to see every crease that covered Boba's face.
And with that, he pulled back, getting back up on his two feet, glaring down at you with a permanently intimidating gaze.
He intended to do this, and as he reached for his helmet, you did the first thing that came to mind.
You snatched it away.
It was a decision made off a snap judgment, but you didn't want him to leave again.
And there was no way he'd leave without his helmet.
"Y/N. Give that back." He demands, only making you feel more obligated to go against him.
"No!"
You quickly scramble to the other end of the mattress, practically leaping off the bed, and out of the room.
Your feet had no clue where they were going, but, once you couldn't hear the sound of Boba stampeding after you, you stopped.
Now in the cargo hold, you sat behind a crate, observing the Mandalorian helmet in your hands, admiring the craftsmanship.
You could only wonder if he had the skill to craft it himself, or got a professional to do it.
Either way, it had to have cost a fortune.
Just as you got the idea to try it on, you heard the menacing sound of heavy footsteps growing closer and closer.
Pulling your legs up to your chest, you focus on calming your breathing, the risk of getting caught giving you a sudden rush of adrenaline.
Even if he found you, the worst he could do if punish you in some mild manner.
He may lock you in a room, tie you up, nothing too severe by any means.
At least, you thought.
As you were weighing the chance of getting found out, a hand lands down with a thud on the crate you were crouching behind.
"Found you."
Clutching the helmet to your chest, you offer a nervous smile up at him.
"Looks like you have." You softly reply, admitting defeat, for now.
He reaches his hand out, and, on instinct, you take it.
Confused at first, he realizes that you expect him to pull you up, and though he had wanted to merely receive his helmet, he goes against his better judgment and hauls you onto your feet effortlessly.
You purposefully stumble into him, feeling his stance unwavering, though he does look down at you, that frown of his loosening up, even if just slightly.
"Y/N? Please, give me my helmet back."
Hearing him speak in such a kind tone, it felt...odd.
But you liked it. Maybe your pestering was getting him to let his guard down.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" You tease, taking a step back, in order to hold his helmet up in each of your hands.
He eyes it, then briefly glances up at you, trying to guess whether or not you were going to take off again, but you don't, genuinely feeling willing to give him his treasured possession back.
Rather than putting it on immediately, he sets it to the side, grabbing your hands, bringing you closer, into his chest, as you had been before.
"I'm sorry for doing this to you, sweetheart." He exhales, his palm coming up below your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.
His other hand squeezes onto yours, and as you begin to feel puzzled, you see a pang of regret flash through Boba's eyes.
"Don't take it personally. And, try not to get into too much trouble."
The more he said, the higher your suspicions were raised.
"What are you trying to say-" You were cut off by your mouth roughly being overtaken.
He never did waste any time getting straight into your lips, but you got the sense that he was doing everything in his power to prolong you from asking any more questions.
And the reason why was all explained in a matter of seconds.
"Boba! I hear you've collected a bounty for me!"
Huttese had always been such a loud, slobby language.
To be continued...
{RE-WRITTEN}