#hes giving a flirty leg pose its very nice

[tipsywench]

I finally went back on heritage auctions to get a better quality version of the Sherman with a book photo and I read the item description for the first time:

Not a common pose.

Fine.

I'll say he is

#sherman nonsense #hes giving a flirty leg pose its very nice #its not a common pose but its fiiiiine

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 7: The Mando Games

Link to Chpt. 6, Link to Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT, Flirty!Din, Jealous!Reader, swearing, kissing, fingering, helmet stays on, explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), canonical violence

Word count: 12.5K (another long one for you because I don’t know how to edit enough)

Author’s Note: We’re still on Angel One because I wasn’t done playing there. If you’re interested in the setting, I’ve based the historic part of the city on Toledo, Spain. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

When you awake the next morning, it feels like you have had the best sleep of your life, despite spending so much of the night making love with Din. You feel utterly blissed out and although some of your muscles ache, it’s the most delicious feeling. You feel him stirring next to you, and you remind yourself that you have to wait to take off the sleep mask until you know it’s safe.

“Go-od morning, cyar’ika,” Din says through a yawn, “Gimme a minute to get the helmet.”

“Of course,” you reply stretching out in the bed, and as you do, your stomach lets out a loud growl. You’re embarrassed, especially as you hear Din laughing softly.

“Did you work up an appetite?” he asks, “I know I’m starving after all that activity.”

You blindly throw a pillow in the direction of his voice and he just laughs harder.

“Careful, my dear, you might break something,” he admonishes you playfully. You hear his footsteps come closer to you and something fluffy lands in your hands.

“You can take the mask off now,” Din says, his voice sounding modulated again and you know he has the helmet back on. You slide the satin mask off your head and store it safely in the nightstand and you see that he’s brought you one of the robes to wear. You’re just slipping it on when you hear a knock at the door. You’re getting ready to hop out of bed and answer it, when Din tells you,

“I’ll get it; no one else needs to see you like this but me.” He’s only half dressed in his trousers himself, but he throws on the other robe to answer the door.

His comment about your appearance makes you curious, so you get out of bed anyway but head to the large bathroom instead. In the mirror, you see a woman who looks well loved. Your hair is mussed, your lips are slightly swollen, and there are several marks, Din’s love bites, on your neck and chest. You smile back at your reflection and think you’ve never looked better.  

You hear the door close and so you head back out to see what that was all about and find Din in the sitting room area with a large cart laden with breakfast foods. Mistress Sigrid may be a bit much, but at least she’s a great hostess. You immediately dig in to the delicious spread as Din chuckles at your eagerness. You make a plate, flop down on the sofa, and turn yourself so you’re facing away from him.

“Go ahead and eat, Din, I know you’re hungry too,” you say, “I promise I won’t look.”

“I know, I trust you,” he says and you hear him get his own breakfast too.

You enjoy your food and the time spent chatting with Din about various other things last night. Turns out, he got a lot more information about the Jubilee from the men.

“Today there’s a sort of bazaar with arts and crafts and cultural demonstrations,” he’s telling you, “Trent promised to show us all the best booths.”

“That was nice of him,” you say.

“And there’s a big set up for this competition that they have amongst the women. Today they announce the challengers and then tomorrow the contest begins,” Din explains.

“I bet it will be entertaining to watch, the women here seem so skilled, it will probably be some type of combat contest or at least something athletic,” you speculate.

“There’s also an interesting prize system for it,” he lets of a huff of laughter, “Apparently the women get to choose the man they want for the night based on the order that they finish - so it’s a prime time for a woman to steal a guy she’s had her eye on.”

“What? That sounds so sexist, I mean towards men, which I know sounds weird, but, ew.” The idea just seems wrong to you, but then you think about how you’re only seeing this from your perspective and say, “But, I know I shouldn’t be judging their culture by my norms, and if this is what works for them, then so be it.”

“It seems odd to me too,” Din says, “But the men last night were pretty excited about it, it’s a pretty big honor to be selected by the winner for them.”

“Well at least we’ll just get to be spectators,” you say.

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Once you’re ready for the day, you head back to the nursery to collect the child. He’s very excited to see you both and toddles over to you as quickly as his tiny legs will carry him. He’s clearly had a great time and is wearing a flower crown and a new beaded necklace.

“Hi buddy, look at you! I love your new accessories!” You say scooping him up. He leans in for a hug and then makes grabby hands towards Din. You hand him over, as Gregor is coming up to you with a little bundle.

“Your little one was such a dear and he played so well with the other children,” he tells you, “And he had a great time with arts and crafts, he’s just a little natural.”

You open up the bundle to find two more beaded necklaces, one in pinks and reds and the other in blues and greens.

“These are so pretty, buddy, did you make them?” you ask the child who is cooing happily at you. “Let me guess, is the pink one for me?” He coos and giggles and you drape the necklace over your head.

“And is the blue one mine, kiddo?” Din asks and again the child makes a happy sound and you help Din put on his new necklace.

“What a beautiful family!” Gregor gushes, “Let me get a holo of the three of you.” Dutifully, you pose for a few holos including a few that Gregor snaps with your holopad too.

As your little party makes its way out of the state residence to head to the bazaar, you find Trent with a group of his friends in the foyer. They are all dressed to impressed and are also sporting flower crowns today.

“Oh Princess and Mando, hi!” Trent greets you enthusiastically, and then with a cheeky grin, “Someone had a wonderful night last night, didn’t they? I noticed you two sneaking off in the middle of the show.”

You feel a touch embarrassed but Trent’s happy grin makes you giggle in spite of yourself and you just say, “Oh, I’d never kiss and tell.”

This seems to delight all of Trent’s friends and they giggle right along with you, and you notice a couple of them checking out Din’s marks on your neck that are still very visible. They exchange knowing glances and you give them a wink.

“See, I told you she was charming,” Trent says and then proceeds to introduce you to his friends. The men greet Din enthusiastically too, most of them having met him last night.

“Oh, but Mando, you don’t have a flower crown,” one of the men, Chad, says with a note of disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry there’s always some nice ones you can buy at the bazaar,” another man says.

With that, you all head out to explore and enjoy the day. It’s a beautifully sunny day with a nice light breeze and the scent of flowers and delicious food wafting through the air. You can hear festive music playing and the sound of many happy people already out and about enjoying their holiday. This part of the city is a historic district with many very old stone buildings close together and narrow cobblestone streets that wind through the buildings before ending in large plazas. Large red banners adorned with various symbols hang off most every window and balcony that you pass, and beautiful floral garlands are draped across the streets between the buildings. Each of the plazas are ringed with vendor booths and each plaza appears to adhere to a particular theme for the wares. Trent directs you to the floral plaza and a stand with many flower crowns. You’ve never seen such beautiful flowers and in such a variety of pretty colors.

“They look really nice, I’d love a flower crown too,” you say a touch wistfully, and the men dissolve into laughter at the idea. You look around and realize, “Oh, wait, they’re just for men, aren’t they?”

Din steps up to look at the crowns more carefully. You can’t imagine he’ll really buy one for himself, but then he asks you, “Which ones do you like?”

You let your fingers touch the soft petals of a particularly beautiful one with red and yellow flowers that catches your eye, “I like this one best,” you say.

“And what’s second best?” Din asks, and you look a touch surprised, but maybe he doesn’t care for the red and yellow? You look through the others and land on another lovely crown of purple and white blooms.

“This one is also lovely,” you say softly.

“We’ll take these two,” Din says to the vendor, handing him a small handful of credits. He then picks up the red and yellow crown and gently places it on your head, enjoying the look of surprise on your face, before plopping the purple crown on top of his helmet.

“You’re a princess, you should have a crown if you want it,” Din tells you.

“Thank you,” you say, beaming at him.

“It actually looks really pretty on you,” Trent says, “Who knows, maybe it could be a new trend?”

You continue to explore the bazaar and eventually you meet up with several of the mistresses that you met the night before. They eye your flower crown with a snicker, but you figure they were already laughing at you anyway so why should you care. The only one who doesn’t do this is Eira, who politely tells you that it looks nice, and you decide she’s your favorite out of all the women you’ve met here. Eira introduces you to her lover, Bradley, who is a quieter man than Trent and his friends, but very nice. They invite you and Din to join them for a drink at one of the tavern booths, and the four of you fall into a comfortable conversation.

After a bit, Eira tells you that it’s time to head to the main plaza because the day’s program is scheduled to begin soon. Arriving at the plaza, you see a stage and several grandstands set up around it. Most of the stands are already full, but Eira leads you to seats in one of the front rows that have been reserved.  

Mistress Sigrid walks out onto the stage to a podium that has been set up as a band plays a triumphant march. As the music swells, people stand and cheer. When the music ends, Sigrid welcomes you all,

“Hello, I hope you are all having a wonderful Jubilee of Astrid!”

“May she bless us!” the crowd replies enthusiastically.

“Please be seated as we begin our ceremonies,” she says.

What follows are a series of speeches about the importance of the holiday, the blessings of Astrid, and the prosperity that she is sure to bring each family. You’re only half listening and instead you let your mind wander to what it must be like to live in a place like this where you know you will celebrate together each year, a place where a family can spend a peaceful day together having fun. You look over at Din holding the child who is playing with the beads of Din’s necklace and you feel a pang of sadness in your heart. What would it be like if you could settle somewhere and have a real home, make friends, and spend time each day in plazas like this one? You know you’re letting your emotions get the best of you. After all, you haven’t even been together with Din for that long, so why are you picturing such a future already? Still though, now the image is in your mind.

“And of course, now we get to the main event,” Sigrid is saying, and you snap your attention back to her, “It’s time to announce the competition and challengers for Astrid’s Battle.”

“This year’s competition will consist of three rounds,” she announces, “In round one we have a test of agility, in round two, a challenge of intelligence, and then in round three, the show of strength. As each of our competitors finish a round, they will earn points based on the quality and speed in which they completed the tasks. Remember this means that even if someone doesn’t win any of the rounds, she could still end up the victor based on total points!”

The people around you cheer wildly and you do your best to applaud and look enthusiastic. Sigrid goes on to then introduce various women who come out on stage to receive cheers and take a bow. It isn’t until she gets to Mistress Lagertha when things unexpectedly take a nasty turn. Instead of coming out for just a bow, Lagertha heads to the podium.

“I am here to issue a special challenge, to our visiting princess.” Your head snaps up at her in alarm. “Your Highness, I dare you to compete for your Mando. If you should manage to place higher than me, then he’s yours, but if I out place you in the contest, he’s going home with me.”

You jump to your feet in utter shock at her audacity and you feel your body flood with anger. How dare she!

It is very quiet all of a sudden, as all eyes look to you. You try to reason with her at first, but your voice cannot hide your ire, “Mistress Lagertha, we are guests on your planet, and I regard this as highly unusual to request that I participate in this competition and that Mando be offered as a prize.”

“If you’re too scared to compete, then I’ll just take him now,” she smirks at you, openly mocking you in front of everyone.

You feel Din standing beside you, his body tense, and you know his fight mode is about to kick in, but that would be disastrous. You raise your head and give her the most intimidating glare you can muster, as you say, “Very well, I will accept on one condition, Mando is only a prize between you and me, no one else may compete for him.”

There is an immediate uproar at this and the crowd begins to gossip excitedly about this newest twist to the competition. Sigrid motions you to the stage, but before you can go, Din grabs your arm, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I think I do, unless we want more trouble,” you tell him and you make your way to the stage.

You are seething right now and you curse yourself for ever having thought of Lagertha as friendly. Your outrage makes you walk with intention and when you take the stage, you know you’re going to show these women that you might be smaller in stature than they are but you are still a powerful woman in your own right.

“Do we have an agreement?” you ask Lagertha your voice cold. It’s a tone you learned from your days with the Empire and from the way her eyes widen, you can tell it has an effect on Lagertha. She gives you a curt nod.

“I’ll need more of a guarantee, Mistress Sigrid, that no one else will compete for Mando.” You look at her with hard eyes, you may be wearing a flower crown, but the pretty, delicate princess is all gone.

“So you will join the competition? Compete for Mando’s affections?” Mistress Sigrid asks rather surprised.

“I will, but only if my stipulation is met,” you reply sharply.

“Very well, only yourself or Lagertha may claim Mando,” Sigrid confirms. She then turns to the crowd and announces you as the final competitor. You take a small bow like the others, but you keep your eyes trained on Din.

When you exit the stage both Din and Eira are there to meet you. Din takes you by the shoulder and brings you in close so he can speak directly in your ear,

“Are you certain you want to do this? We can just leave now, take our chances,” Din urges you.

“No one can find us here, this is the safest place for now,” you reason with him, “And if I need to play their game to help keep us here, then I will. No woman is just going to take you from me.” Din sees your eyes flash with that statement, and he feels humbled by the intensity of your affection for him. I don’t deserve her.

“I can help you prepare,” Eira is saying, “I’ve competed many times and honestly the competition doesn’t change much from year to year.”

“I would appreciate any help, Eira,” you reply, “And I can still beat Lagertha on total points, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Eira confirms, “Let’s go back to our house and we can talk strategy.”

Din, the child, and you follow Eira and Bradley back to their home as she tells you about her experiences with Astrid’s Battle.

“The first two rounds will be tomorrow. The agility challenge is always some type of obstacle race, the obstacles change from year to year, but generally you have to have decent balance, be able to climb, and be light on your feet,” she explains.

“Your smaller size may give you an advantage there,” Din says encouragingly, “And I’ve seen you carry a tray a food, the child, and several of his toys around the Crest with no problem, so balance should also be a skill for you.”

“My best shot at earning points though is going to be the intelligence test,” you say, “What does that usually consist of?”

“Typically, it’s some type of really hard puzzle or riddle,” Eira tells you, “It’s a real challenge, but I know that Lagertha isn’t good at riddles, so you do stand a good chance there.”

“That would be right in my skillset, so I’ll hope for the best there.” You feel much more confident that you can do well on that section and if you’re fast enough it might be enough to keep you competitive with Lagertha.

“The part that worries me the most is the strength competition,” Eira is saying, “Because that is almost always hand-to-hand combat. It’s on the following day because it’s usually done in tournament style.”

“I’ve given her some training, but if she could spar with you, that would be helpful to see the fighting style you use here,” Din suggests.

For the next couple hours, you spar and practice with Eira and Din in the grassy area behind Eira’s house. The two of them give you various pointers about how to best hold your own and use your smaller size to your advantage. It’s good that Din’s training has focused on that too, because it doesn’t feel too foreign to you. At the very least, you feel like you won’t make a complete fool out of yourself thanks to their advice. Bradley has kindly been watching the child the whole time as they sit on the sidelines and cheer you on. There was a tense moment at first when Eira kept mysteriously falling down as she went to attack you, but thankfully, Din realized what was happening and hurried over to lower the little green hand. Eira just figured she had slipped on something and didn’t get suspicious.

When you’re taking a break, you pull the little one close to you and whisper in his ear, “I appreciate the help, buddy, but save it for the real competition in case I really need it.” You give him a kiss and he makes his happy, snuffly baby sounds.

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Later that evening, you’re resting in your room back in the state residence. Din is insistent that you save all your energy for tomorrow, and while you know he’s right, you can’t help yourself from giving him suggestive looks anyway after the child is safely in his pram for the night.

“Cyar’ika, you’re supposed to be getting ready for bed,” he admonishes, “I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re already a distraction,” you say playfully. Nevertheless, you know you could use more rest given that last night wasn’t exactly full of sleeping. So you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face for the night. You’re starting at yourself in the mirror again, but this time doubt starts to creep in as you consider how much stronger and bigger Lagertha is. You have no idea how she might do in the intelligence competition, either.

When you come back to the bedroom, you ask Din, “Do you think I have any chance tomorrow?”

“Of course I do,” he insists strongly, “If I didn’t I’d already have you and the kiddo in hyperspace.”

He’s direct, and you know he means it. Your face must still show your doubt though, because he comes over and pulls you into his arms.

“Cyar’ika, you are going to be great. These women underestimate you; they’re too wrapped up in their own ideas of superiority to see who you really are.”

“Who I really am?” you repeat to him, wondering how he sees you.

“A brave, intelligent woman who knows how to survive,” Din says sincerely, “And the only one who can win this Mando’s affections.”

You hug him tighter to you as he says that and then you lean up to place a kiss on his helmet where his mouth would be.

“Close your eyes,” Din says, and when you do, he pushes up the helmet so he can lean in and take your lips in his. His kiss is tender and loving, and when he pulls away, you feel content again.

“You can open your eyes now.”

“Thank you, Din,” you say softly.

“For kissing you?” he asks, a little amused.

“For believing in me.”

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You’re filled with anticipation and anxiety as you wait for your turn to begin the obstacle course in the agility portion of Astrid’s Battle. You’re thankful that Eira was able to brief you on this part because now it doesn’t seem quite so daunting. The course is set up with various sections where you must cross a narrow bridge or make your way over an unstable surface designed to test your balance. There are also several climbing walls to surmount, and a crawl through swampy, muddy area that you are not looking forward to completing. You have an advantage however, of being in the middle of the pack of competitors because you can watch the women who run the course before you and see how they attempt the obstacles. In some cases, there are two options for a path, and you’re quickly learning which path will be best for you. As each woman runs the course, two announcers provide a play-by-play of her progress and updates on the time. It seems like most women finish in around 15 minutes, but you can get time added to your clock as a penalty if you make a mistake on the course.

Suddenly it’s your turn to start and as you hear the buzzer sound, you jolt into action. As you’ve been watching the others, you pre-planned your route in your head and as you bound across the first obstacle, a net that makes you bounce as you run on it, you tell yourself to focus on the plan and to shut out any distractions. One thought keeps your legs pumping and your eyes sharp, she won’t take Din from me.

Din is sitting in the stands holding the child on his lap as he watches you compete. Maker, he’s not even in the competition but his heart is beating fast with nervous energy as he watches you on the course. He’s glad that Eira and Bradley are with him because these new friends seem just as invested in your success as he is. You’re doing really well on the balancing apparatuses, and each time you cross one, Din cheers out for you. But, you’re having less success with the climbing walls, as unfortunately with those, your shorter height gives you a disadvantage. You aren’t able to reach as far as the other women, so it takes you longer to get over each one. Still, each time you do, he’s so proud of you. You’re almost to the end of the course now and all that’s left is the muddy crawl. Din knows you’ll hate that part as one time the kid got himself and then you, covered in mud and it was clear you did not enjoy it. So when he sees you dive into the mud like it’s nothing, giving it your all, he feels honored that you’re trying so hard to win him. Of course, there’s no chance in hell he’s going to let Lagertha anywhere near him if she should happen to outscore you in the competition. However, he kept that to himself so that you would focus on doing your best with the challenges and not worrying about the ensuing fight that might be necessary.

Positively filthy, you push yourself off the ground and sprint as hard as you can towards the finish line. When you cross, your lungs are burning and you can hardly see with all mud on your face, but you smile as you hear the announcer state your time, 20 minutes and 38 seconds, a respectable time for someone who’s never competed in anything like this.

You head over to an area where outdoor showers have been set up so you can wash off the mud. The water is cool and refreshing as it runs over you, and you appreciate it, as you take in the moment, happy that this first part is finished. You’re wiping your face with a towel and when you can successfully see again, you look up to your favorite sight. Din and the little one come over to give you a hug and a Keldabe kiss.

“You did amazing, cyar’ika,” Din says his voice full of pride, “The announcers and everyone around us were really impressed too. You didn’t even get any penalties.”

“That’s good to hear, but I just hope it’s enough--” your statement gets cut off as you hear the announcers say Lagertha’s name excitedly.

“Yes, folks, it’s a new round one record for Mistress Lagertha at only 10 minutes and 32 seconds!”

Your heart drops at that news. She completed the course twice as fast as you did, and with a new record, she’s likely to be in first place going into the next part of the contest.

Din sees your expression and he leans down to tell you, “Don’t give up yet, I know she doesn’t have the brains to beat you in the next part.”

You look at him with wary eyes, “Maker, I hope not,” is all you can say.

After cleaning up, you’re ushered into a special lunch with the other competitors. Your completion time has placed you in the bottom half of the competitors, but you’re fortunate to see that you’re actually closer to the middle than you expected to be. There are several women with worse completion times because either they had many penalties or they were actually slower than you. It gives you a little bit of confidence as does the fact that many of the women have come up to congratulate you on making it this far.

“Well, look who’s still with us,” Lagertha strolls up to you as the luncheon is ending. She flanked by two friends taking a classic mean girl approach. It’s clear some things are universal no matter what planet you’re on.

“Congratulations on your record,” you say graciously. You know she wants to bait you into an argument, so you plan to stay cool and collected and deny her the satisfaction of seeing you upset. It’s a tactic you’ve seen Din use when people get mouthy with him.

“Why thank you! Aren’t you sweet?” She makes it sound like an insult. One of her friends rolls her eyes.

“I’m looking forward to the next round, I do enjoy an intellectual challenge,” you say with a smile on your face.

“Well, let’s just hope it’s something that your little head can handle,” she gives you a smirk as her friends snicker rudely. You’re getting really fed up with this elitist attitude they have.

Nonetheless, you swallow your anger and say, “Thanks.” But you know your eyes are showing your true feelings and it just seems to amuse her and her nasty friends all the more. You sigh, hold your head up high and just walk away from them heading into the room where the next round will be held. You hear shouts of laughter at your back but now it’s just fuel for your fire as you are determined to be outstanding in this next challenge.

You’re seated at a desk with a holopad and a camera designed to film you as you work on the puzzles and broadcast it on a large screen to the audience. It also allows the judges to see you in action and ensure that no cheating takes place. You feel more nervous than you anticipated because you didn’t think about everyone watching your every move.  But then you look over to the stands and see the flash of beskar, even though he’s across the room from you, you can feel Din’s energy like a lifeline reaching out to you. It calms you and although you’re nervous, you know you can handle this.

Mistress Sigrid comes out to start the second round and announce the puzzles. She looks right at you and gives you a small nod that you take as encouragement before she says, “Welcome everyone to Round Two of the Battle of Astrid! This year’s intellectual challenge will ask our competitors to decipher three messages written in three unique and puzzling styles. This year will be a real brain workout as our third message features a real code used during wartime. Competitors may ‘purchase’ hints to the puzzles in the form of time with a more useful hint costing more time. Are we ready to begin?”

Thank the fucking Maker! The second challenge is codebreaking! You can’t believe your luck and when Sigrid hits the buzzer to start the competition and the first puzzle appears on your screen, you have a huge smile on your face.

The first code is a simple substitution cipher and is the type of code that children use when they’re writing secret messages, and with the free hint providing the first substitution, there is no challenge for you at all. You solve the code in three minutes. When your holopad confirms that your answer is correct, the next puzzle is displayed. You hear an impressed sound come from the crowd around you along with the surprised voice of the announcer saying that you are already on to the second puzzle.

You feel your confidence soar as you quickly glance up and see that no one else is even close to solving. The second code is much more complex and on first review, you believe it to be a shift cipher where each letter of the alphabet is shifted down to a new position. As you work, you notice that the code is actually a clever collection of multiple shifts in sequence. It’s a great platform for building a code and one that you might choose to use. It takes more work, but you feel like you’re in your element and everything around you falls away as you break the message. You realize you’ve got it and hit your button to submit. Suddenly you hear a large cheer when your correct message is confirmed, and look up to see that you’ve completed this round in just about 20 minutes. Another quick look at the other screens and you can see that you are now light-years ahead of anyone else, and more importantly, Lagertha has only just started the second puzzle.

When the third encoded message is displayed on your screen, you almost laugh out loud. The wartime code that Sigrid mentioned is an Imperial code that you not only recognize, it’s one that you helped create. You identify your own special coding signature and everything. Again, you can’t believe your luck, and you think the Maker really must be smiling down on you today. It’s not even a challenge for you. It takes you five minutes to decode the message and that’s only because it was a fairly long paragraph. When you hit submit and the correct message is confirmed, no one can believe it. The audience goes absolutely wild and the judges come rushing over to review your work. The competition is paused for the other competitors so that everyone can verify the results. There are some angry shouts demanding to see your work. But after a quick review of your holopad, there’s no denying it, you are correct and you have won the round.

“In a stunning turn of events, we have an incredible new record for the intelligence challenge,” Mistress Sigrid announces to the stunned crowd. “For the first time ever, a woman has completed this round in less than 30 minutes. Princess, please take a bow.”

You stand and take your bow, feeling a rush of true success and luck, and for the first time today, you breathe a sigh of relief. You hurry over to sit with Din and the child so that you can watch the rest of the competition now that it has resumed.

“You were incredible, I had no idea you were that good,” Din tells you, “I mean, I knew you were smart, but, cyar’ika, that was outstanding.”

“I was good, but I was also extremely lucky,” you whisper to him, “I’ll explain later.” If anyone were to hear about how you were able to break the code so quickly, it might lead to allegations of cheating and who knows what other problems.

Eira and Bradley also express their admiration for your performance and Eira even throws her arms around you in a bear hug. You’re so grateful to have at least a few other people supporting you.

You watch the competition, mostly for Lagertha but also smugly curious to see how the women do with breaking your code. You know it’s petty, but when you see how much everyone is struggling with it, you feel an upwelling of pride within you. No one is able to make any progress at all without purchasing at least three hints. This feeling of superiority grows especially as you watch Lagertha purchase every possible hint, costing her precious time, and then still struggle to solve it. When she does eventually figure it out, her time comes in at just over four hours.

After the competition ends for the day, everyone is ushered into a special dinner where the rankings will be announced for tomorrow’s strength challenge. You sit nervously next to Din poking at your food and then feeding most of it to the baby. You pray that your unbeatable score in the intelligence challenge will garner you a great position for this final hurdle.

“Remember if you’ve placed high enough, you might only have to fight in a couple matches,” Eira explains, “Hell, with that score you pulled off in Round Two, you’re looking really great.” You know from her earlier coaching that a high score will put you into one of the higher rounds of the tournament automatically reducing the number of women you’ll need to take on in the strength competition.

Finally, Mistress Sigrid is at her podium next to a giant screen and is ready to reveal the results. You listen restlessly as she announces the competitors in reverse order from bottom to top finishers. You keep waiting to see your ranking, but it doesn’t seem to be coming. Shockingly, Lagertha’s name is revealed in sixth place, and then even more astonishingly, you listen as Sigrid declares that you have rocketed your way into second place.

“It is unprecedented to see such a meteoric rise in this battle, but I believe we all owe our off-world princess a round of applause for her cunning mind,” Sigrid praises you, and you nod blindly in your bewilderment.

“I can’t believe I pulled that off,” you say to Din.

“It’s great, because it means you’ll only have two fights at the most, because you automatically advance to the final four!” Eira practically squeals at you.

At the thought of the fights, your glow of success and hopefulness starts to fade and the reality of having to fight at least one if not two of these giant women settles on your shoulders. It must show on your face, because you feel Din lean in close to you and place a hand on your arm.

“Hey, don’t fret,” Din is saying to you, “Best case scenario, Lagertha is defeated in an earlier round and then you can just concede and come in fourth.”

“True, but there’s still a chance I have two matches that I need to win tomorrow, and I don’t know if I can even manage one,” you tell him honestly.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” he replies and he takes your hand interlocking his fingers with yours. It’s a small gesture but it has an instant effect and you feel warmed by his faith in you.

When you return to your room, you look around and decide that maybe it will be a good idea to pack up your belongings, just in case you need to make a hasty exit from this place. Something is nagging at your mind, but you can’t figure out what it is. There’s just a feeling that something is going to go wrong. The packing serves as a good outlet for the uneasy energy that has taken over your body, but you don’t really have that much stuff and after it’s all organized, you turn your attention to the child. He likes to be rocked to sleep and so you start to do that, but then your frazzled nerves and racing mind turn rocking into pacing until Din steps in.

“Let me take him, cyar’ika,” he says gently, “You’re keeping him awake you’re moving so quickly.”

“Oh, I, I’m sorry,” you say sounding distracted.

“It’s ok,” he says as he reaches for the child, “You go get ready for bed.”

You listen to him and go through your nightly ablutions, but still there is something toying with the edge of your thoughts, something that you’re missing. When Din comes into the bedroom, you’re sitting straight up in bed nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you replay various moments from the day in your head.

“My love, you need to relax,” Din says with a soft sigh, “You’re getting yourself so worked up you’ll never sleep.”

“How did Sigrid get that code, Din?” you ask, having identified that as the primary source for your frustration.

“What do you mean?” he questions confused.

“You know how I said I got lucky in the code-breaking competition,” you say, “That third code was an Imperial Code, it was my code, or at least one that I helped create.”

“That’s why you solved it so quickly,” he realizes.

“Yes, but how did they get it, and how did they know how it worked in order to make into one of their puzzles?” This is the question that has been wracking your brain.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation, cyar’ika,” Din says calmly, trying to help you settle down, “Remember, the Rebellion had code-breakers too and it’s possible someone on their side broke that code.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” you say, “And then maybe they made those documents public after the war?” It sounds possible, but your voice is still full of doubt and unease.

“Yes, it’s likely that’s what happened,” Din says. He looks at you for a long moment and then says, “Take off your nightgown and lie down on your stomach. I’m going to rub your back to help you relax.”

“I’m naked under this,” you say automatically, still distracted by your turbulent thoughts.

He chuckles, “Well, I was hoping that I’d get the privilege of seeing you naked again, but honestly this will just help me massage you better.”

“Oh right, of course,” you say, letting out a shaky laugh yourself as you pull off your nightgown and lie down.

You try to will yourself to relax as you feel his large, warm hands begin to sweep over the muscles of your back. His fingers knead into you and start to relieve the tension in your shoulders as he works out the little knots there. His hands move down your spine stretching and soothing the muscles. When he gets to the part of your lower back that always seems stiff, you let out a little moan as he helps relieve the pain there. He gently runs his hand over your bare backside and you feel a little spike of desire before he moves on to massage your thighs. He massages all down your legs, working out sore spots you didn’t realize you had. When he gets to your feet, you’re feeling so much better, you almost forget why you were so worked up.

“Turn over,” Din tells you. You comply, a little confused, but you figure he knows what he’s doing.

He keeps massaging your feet for a while longer, and then starts to move up your legs again. As he reaches your thighs again, he starts to nudge them apart and you watch as he climbs up on the bed. His touch starts to change and you realize he’s staring between your legs now and it’s turning you on.

“What are you doing, Din?” You have a pretty good idea, but you want to hear him say it.

“I’m going to make sure you’re completely relaxed, cyar’ika, the best way I know how,” he tells you with determination.

Now his hands are right on either side of your pussy and again he just stares for a moment before he lets his fingers begin to explore your most sensitive flesh.

“Do you like to look at me, Din?” you ask in a sultry voice.

“I love to look at you like this,” he says gruffly, “So beautiful when you’re open for me.” You hum your approval in response as his fingers apply more pressure and start to circle your entrance.

“You get so wet,” Din tells you, “I love how responsive you are to me.” He plunges his long middle finger of his right hand inside of you and you cry out softly at how good it feels. His left hand is now playing with your clit as two of his fingers roll and pinch it between them. Gently, he adds a second finger to the first one inside you, moving them in and out and swirling them around reaching deep within you. His motions are unhurried and you relax even more into his touch. Every so often, he crooks his fingers upward, making you moan out his name. It feels so good and his pace is so steady that the pleasure builds slowly and even as you know you’re reaching your climax, it feels like you are floating towards it rather than hurtling there like you usually do. This time it’s not a race for release; instead, it’s like he’s trying to draw it out of you as gradually as possible. When you do finally reach your peak, it is blissful and you moan his name out contentedly.

As your breathing returns to normal, you tell him, “You’re right, Din, I feel so much better, so relaxed.” Your mind is finally quiet, “Give me a few minutes and then I’ll help you feel good.”

“No, cyar’ika, this was all about you,” Din says gently, “I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep now.”

“You sure?” you ask, but you can’t deny you do feel very sleepy already.

“I’m positive,” he says. You feel him pull the blankets up around you and then he carefully places the sleep mask over your eyes. You hear the telltale sound of his helmet coming off and then you feel his soft lips against yours. When you settle back into your pillow, you feel drowsy and peaceful. When Din’s arms come around you and he pulls your body against his, you’re already drifting off.

----------------------------------------------

The strength competition is a master class in hand-to-hand combat. You watch from the warm-up area with the other competitors, awed by how powerful and skilled these women are at their sport. You have only a shred of hope that you will be able to put up a good showing in the competition and you’re desperately wishing for someone else to take out Lagertha for you. So far though, she looks to be in her element. She fought off her first two challengers handily and while it gave you an opportunity to study her fighting style, it mostly just scared the pants off you. Now Lagertha just has one more woman to beat and if she does, you’ll have to fight her. At least she was randomly selected to be on your side of the tournament bracket, otherwise you’d have to be sure to advance to the final round and beat her there.

Din and the baby come over to stand with you, as you get ready to watch Lagertha’s next match. Din places his arm around your shoulders helping to calm you. You take the child into your arms, since you know his sweet presence with help you feel better too.

“Look, see how she drops her shoulder there,” Din points out, “That’s a good opportunity to land a painful hit.” You nod as you listen to his advice.

“Oh, and there, you see how she puts all her balance on her front foot when she throws that cross,” he shows you another weakness, “If you can kick at her other leg when she does that, you’ll knock her down for sure.”

You turn and look at him, really look him, as he’s still trying to coach you up until the last possible moment. As you watch him, a sense of happiness and calm comes over you. It dawns on you that Din will always be on your side, rooting for you, believing in you, and nothing will change that. He really is the best man you have ever known. You slide your arm around his waist and rest yourself against his body and you let his continued advise wash over you. No matter what happens, you know you are going to fight your heart out for him; it’s what he deserves.

You watch resigned as Lagertha defeats her opponent and you know the time has come. There’s a short break between the matches, so you have a few minutes with your guys before you have to step into the fighting ring.

“Thank you for all your help,” you say to Din as you pull his helmet down to meet your forehead, “I’m going to fight like hell for you.”

Then you shift your attention to the child on your hip, and turn him around so you’re facing each other. You look deep into his eyes, and whisper to him, “If you do end up helping, just try to be subtle, OK?” You lean down and give him a kiss on his forehead. He coos at you like he understands, and you cross your fingers that he won’t try to fling Lagertha across the arena.

“So, little princess, are you ready to get that butt kicked?” Lagertha jeers at you as you enter the ring.

“I’m ready to fight for Mando,” you tell her with determination, “He’ll never be yours. Besides, I doubt you’d even know what to do with him.”

“Oh you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Lagertha snaps back at you, and maybe you hit a nerve.

You smirk at her as you reply, “I think the intelligence contest proved that yesterday already, or did you forget?”

Lagertha is seething at you now, “You little bitch, I’m going to destroy you.”

In getting her good and angry, you can see she’s throwing out her strategy and is going into blind attack mode. You think one more biting remark will really push her off her game and it might cause her to make a mistake. “At least I don’t have to win a man in a contest to make him mine,” you taunt her, your voice condescending.

Lagertha lunges at you before the buzzer has even sounded, but in her anger she telegraphs the move and you dodge her attack just as Din showed you. The referee for the match blows her whistle and signals a penalty for Lagertha.

“None of that!” the referee snaps, “Get back and wait for the buzzer!”

You can see that Lagertha is vibrating with anger and although you know it’s risky to keep making her mad, it is keeping her unbalanced and sloppy, so you wink at her and smirk in her direction.

When the buzzer sounds and the referee signals the start of combat, Lagertha charges at you again in her rage. You can see that all of her weight is leaning forward with her momentum and so you duck and throw out a kick to her knee that knocks her to the ground. You quickly move away from her though so she can’t grab you and pull you down too. She scrambles to her feet and then runs towards you again. This time she’s better prepared, and when you land a blow to her ankle, it merely trips her up but she doesn’t fall. You figure your best strategy is to keep moving and dodging her as much as possible in hope of tiring her out. Din had pointed out to you that she’s already fought several matches and that making her chase you would be difficult for her. You can hear the crowd cheering the more you bob and weave and land a few small blows. You’re not doing a lot of damage to her, but it does seem to slow her down at least, and so far, you managed from getting hit by her. The more you do this, you hear the crowd sound begin to shift. The spectators are starting to laugh. It must look pretty funny you realize as you land your little hits and then run away from this giantess.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Lagertha threatens you as she finally makes contact with your body, punching you hard in the side. You flail a bit but manage to keep your feet and try to dart away again, but she reaches out and grabs your wrist, hauling your body back up against hers. It’s almost the same exact position from when Din first started training you and the memory of that runs through your mind as you automatically fight her off exactly the way he taught you in that first ever lesson.

As he watches you successfully break away from Lagertha’s hold, Din feels incredibly proud. Everything you’re doing is what he trained you to do. Although he hates the fact that he can’t be the one to fight and protect you, the feeling of seeing what you’ve learned from him is gratifying in a way he never knew it could be. He winces as Lagertha manages to punch you in the shoulder, but then it turns to a shout of praise as you land a good kick to her hip. You’re fighting so hard for him that it makes his heart ache and, rather unexpectedly, it’s turning him on quite a lot. That is until Lagertha manages to knock you to the ground hard, so hard that you cry out in pain and Din feels sick. He can see Lagertha rearing up so that she can drop her full weight on top of you in a crushing blow, but then it’s like she’s stuck for a moment or is second-guessing her move. It that split second, you manage to roll over and swing your legs around hard, sweeping Lagertha’s feet, making her stumble and fall. You pop up onto your feet again, but blessedly Lagertha stays down. It isn’t until the referee is blowing the whistle that Din looks down and see the child’s hand extended.  

“Ok, that’s enough, kiddo,” Din says quietly to him, but he’s secretly pleased that the child helped you win.

You cannot believe what has happened as you stand there panting and swaying slightly on your feet. After the initial whistle blow, the referee came over to you and thrust your hand in the air, signaling that you were the winner of the match. But then, Lagertha finally made it to her feet and tried to hit you again, but ended up punching the referee. A small shouting match broke out at that and now the referee is conferring with the judges and Mistress Sigrid as Lagertha argues with them that something went wrong during the fight. You look over to Din and the child, and you can see that the little guy looks happy but rather sleepy, a sure sign of some force assistance. You hope nothing looked too out of the ordinary to the crowd.

“That’s enough, Lagertha,” Mistress Sigrid is saying angrily now, “Give it up! You challenged her and you lost; take it like a woman!”

You watch wide-eyed as Sigrid then comes over to you, raises your hand in the air again, and announces to the crowd, “The winner of this match!”

A sense of true relief washes over you and you feel tears of joy at your eyes. Knowing that the win isn’t entirely yours doesn’t bother you because you still fought hard, and you know that Lagertha can’t take Din away from you. You look around for him in the crowd again, but you don’t see him, and you’re starting to get concerned when suddenly he’s there in the ring with you, sweeping you up into his arms and spinning you around. He sets you down on your feet again as he brings his helmet down to your forehead and the two of you are oblivious to everyone else around you.

“You did it, cyar’ika,” Din tells you happily, his voice filled with admiration.

“I think I had a little help,” you whisper and then lean down and kiss the baby on the nose. He coos up at you softly and then slowly blinks his dark eyes.

“Ok, lovebirds, I think we know how this competition is going to end,” Sigrid is there chuckling as you finally pull away from Din’s embrace. “Technically you are supposed to fight Runa here in the final match of the competition.”

You see Runa standing there looking at you with respect and she says to you, “I’m not interested in your Mando, so if you want to concede, I’m happy to be the overall winner without another fight.”

“Yes, I wish to concede the next round and select Mando as my prize,” you state happily.

“Very well,” Sigrid says smiling big, “Congratulations on your performance and enjoy your prize!”

“Thank you, I will.”

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You emerge from the luxurious bathroom having had a restoring shower and a recovery drink with a healthy dose of bacta to heal your bruises from the fight. You feel like a new woman and the pride of your win is still pulsing through your veins along with lust for your Mandalorian. You hear Din in the bedroom now and he calls out to you,

“The kid’s asleep; he’s out for the night.” You figured as much since you know using his powers tends to tire him out quickly.

You drop the towel that was wrapped around your body and saunter out into the room naked. Din instantly drops what he’s doing and you know he’s starting at you. You smile suggestively at him and then make a show of looking him up and down.

“What are doing, cyar’ika?” he asks, he sounds aroused and entertained.

“Appreciating my prize,” you tell him saucily, “Get undressed so I can appreciate you even more.” So far, you’ve let him take the lead when it comes to the physical side of your relationship, but tonight you want to be in control. You wonder how far he’ll let you take it.

He tilts his helmet at you, as if to say, oh really?, but then he starts removing his armor as that black visor stays trained on you. This is a different side than you’ve shown him before and he likes it, so he’s eager to fulfill your request. As more of his layers are removed, you make little comments as he reveals his body to you. He stays quiet though; content to listen to your praise and suggestive remarks.

When the gloves come off, you say, “You have such nice strong hands, Din, and very skilled fingers.”

Then his cape, “I can still see the marks I made on your neck, do you remember how good that felt?”

Next is his shirt, “I love your big arms, they feel incredible when they’re wrapped around me. Oh and that gorgeous chest feels so good when I press against it.”

He leans down to remove his boots, this time you giggle, “I guess the big feet saying is true when it comes to you.”

Then his trousers are off, “Your thighs are so nice and thick, I wonder what it would be like to ride one.”

But then, his underwear slides down those thighs, “Oh, now that’s the prize I’m gonna ride.”

“Cyar’ika,” Din says his voice deep and gravely, and with that one word you can hear how turned on he is.

“Get on the bed and sit with your back against the headboard,” you tell him and watch as he moves quickly to comply. Watching him strip for you and ordering him about has you very turned on and you feel your wetness coating your inner thighs.

“I can see how wet you are from here,” Din tells you, “I like how turned on you get by just seeing me.”

You climb onto the bed and straddle Din’s legs with your own and his hands immediately come up to hold your waist. He tugs you down lightly but you stay up on your knees for now, wanting to tease him some more before you get too carried away.

“Touch my tits first,” you tell him and you reach to move his hands upward. His hands slide up your body to cup your breasts and then his fingers pinch and pull at your nipples teasing them into hard and needy little peaks. You let your head loll back and you push yourself further into his hands. You hold onto his arms and you gently let your hips become flush with his. You don’t let him enter you yet though, instead you just grind against him letting his hard cock brush through your wetness and rub against your clit in a delicious fashion. Din groans loudly at the contact and he bucks up into you in an attempt to create more friction.

“Not yet,” you say, “I want you to touch me more, first.” You lift back up off his hips, take his right hand from your chest, and guide it to your core.

“Make me come, Din, like only you can,” you order him and then you gasp as he pushes two fingers into you at once.

“Gladly, my princess,” he replies. Unlike his easy pace from the other day, this time his fingers plunder your tight passage, pushing in deeply without much warning. The swift invasion makes you cry out his name and you clench around him tightly. He rotates his hand so his thumb can circle your clit and your hips start to buck against him. You stare into the blackness of the visor and you know he’s watching your face even though you can’t see his eyes. There’s something about seeing that unreadable mask in front of you but hearing his harsh breathing that excites you even more.

“Yes, Din, yes, that’s it,” you moan out, as his fingers inside you focus on the spot that gives you the most pleasure. It feels so good that your thighs are starting to shake and you know you’re already close. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you hard and fast while his other hand tweaks your sensitive nipple in a perfect blend of stimulation.

“Are you going to come for me, cyar’ika? You gonna soak my hand?” Din’s voice urges you on and you rock on his fingers drawing out the sensation as much as possible before you feel your internal muscles fluttering around him as you come apart with a shout of his name.

“That’s my good girl,” he says and you watch as his fingers disappear beneath the helmet so that he can lick them clean.

“I’m ready to fully claim my prize now,” you say with a wink as you reposition yourself over his cock.

“Yeah, you gonna take me now? Make me yours?” Din asks his voice laced with amusement and lust. He reaches down to hold himself in position for you.

“Mmm, yes, I’m going take you, all of you,” you reply as you slowly start to sink down on him. You draw out your descent, pulling up a little before sinking down again, each time going a little lower and taking more of him. You can see that Din’s trying to hold himself still, but as you get closer to taking all of him, he can’t resist thrusting up into you those last few inches until he’s fully inside of you. It feels so good and you grind yourself against his body. Your hands are on his chest helping support you and you stare into his visor hoping that you’re making eye contact with him.

“You’re mine, Din,” you tell him as you start to lift off him and then come back down. You glide up and down on his cock finishing it with a grind against him each time.

“Say it again, say I’m yours,” he says as you start to find a rhythm to your movements.

“You’re mine, Din, you’re mine,” you repeat and his hands come to your hips to urge you to move faster on him.

“Tell me I’m only yours,” he demands and he starts to match your movements, thrusting his hips up into you. He feels so huge in this position and when he surges upward into you, the feeling is sublime.

“Only mine, Din, you’re only mine,” you breathe out as you start to bounce faster on him, riding him harder, “No… other woman… can have you… only me.”

“That’s fucking right,” Din says and his hand finds your clit again, rubbing frantic circles around it, “Tell me again, don’t stop telling me.”

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine!” You can feel yourself galloping toward your release, and the more you call him yours, the more a primal need for him awakens within you. It makes the pleasure that much more intense and you feel yourself burning white hot from it. The flames within you build as you continue to cry out that he is yours until it is too much and the fire consumes you.

Din watches as you reach your peak. He relishes in seeing how beautiful you look in that moment and in hearing how you sound as you’re absolutely overcome by him. His strong arms wrap around you to hold you up as you slow your movements and become more relaxed. He takes advantage of your momentary pliant state to roll you over, so he can be on top now. He did enjoy having you ride him, but he needs to be able to really thrust into you now, the way he’s been thinking about all day. Din pulls your legs up to his shoulders before he enters you again, this new position allowing him to penetrate you deeper than before.

“Ah, Din! Yes, oh Maker, yes!” you shout out your approval competing with the wet, lewd sounds filling the air as he pistons into you. Your cunt is so tight around him, he almost feels like you’re pushing him out of you each time you clamp down hard around him. Din knows he won’t last long like this, but with the way you’re thrashing around underneath him now, he doesn’t think you’ll care.

“You f-fought so hard for me t- today,” Din tells you between thrusts, “So- so p-proud of you, m- my cyar’ika.”

You mewl when he says that and seem to clench around him even tighter. It makes him want to say it again,

“My cyar’ika, mine,” he repeats and it feels as though you become even wetter for him. It makes him increase his speed and now his hips are pounding against yours. He’s going much harder than he dared the first time you were together. It’s like something has come unleashed in him, a deep desire to show you how much you are his, how much he wants to be with you, needs to be with you. He watches as you arch your back and writhe up to meet his punishing thrusts, your head is thrown back as you let out a near constant string of moans and Din thinks he’s never seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. He feels himself get impossibly harder and he knows that he’s close to his climax, but he want you to get there again first.

“My cyar’ika… fuck, want you… want you to come again… t-touch yourself,” Din tells you and you immediately reach down to play with your clit. Your fingers move rapidly in tempo with his hips and you start to shudder.

“Ahh, DIN! Yes! DIN!” He loves the way you cry out his name when you come and as soon as you start to squeeze around him, he lets himself go, pumping his seed deep within you as he follows you into the ecstasy of release.

Din slowly pulls out of you and lowers your legs before collapsing next to you. He lies there for just a moment before rolling towards the nightstand and pulling out the sleep mask. When he comes back closer to you again, he reaches up to cradle your face with one of his hands and looks into your eyes.

“My love, even though we haven’t been together long, I want you to know there is no one that could ever take me away from you. I’m so proud of how well you did in the competition, but you have to know that I would never have gone with that woman. I mean it when I say I’m only yours. And you should know that I won’t let anyone take you from me either,” Din tells you, his words heartfelt. You feel tears prick at your eyes as your emotions flood your chest.

“I mean it too, Din, I am yours, and you have to know I’ll never stop fighting for you, for us, when I need to,” you reply and place your hand over his.

“Can I cover your eyes? If I don’t kiss you soon, I’m going to burst,” he says.

“Yes, please, I need to kiss you too, my darling Din.”

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In another part of the state residence, Mistress Sigrid sits in her office and stares at a flickering holo. The image must be at least 7 or 8 years old, but there’s no doubt in her mind now that it must be you. After seeing you for a few days in a row, she knows that even though it’s an old holo, you are the same woman, and although you might be passing yourself off as a princess now, your appearance hasn’t changed that much. Plus, after rigging the intelligence challenge to include that Imperial code, she knows for certain that you must be the woman that Commander Kerrick Hoven is seeking and for whom he is willing to hand over a fortune in credits. She punches a code into her comm device.

The image of a blond man with sharp eyes appears and speaks, “Mistress Sigrid, I hope this is confirmation of good news.”

“Yes, Commander Hoven, I am certain it is her.” Sigrid replies.

“She was able to break the code easily?” he asks.

Sigrid chuckles, “She took only 5 minutes to do it. That along with the holo you sent confirms that it must be her.”

“Only 5 minutes,” Kerrick repeats fondly, “Still my brilliant little doll. You said she’s pretending to be a princess and is cavorting with a Mandalorian? She always was one for lost causes.”

“Yes, well, he shouldn’t be any problem for my warriors. When will you be here to collect her and transfer the funds to my account?” Sigrid asks.

“We shall see you in five hours.” Kerrick ends the call and his image flickers out.

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It hasn’t been very long since you drifted off to sleep when you are jolted away by tiny claws grabbing at your face and a scared cry. You can feel that Din is at your back, his arm wrapped around your waist and his face buried into your hair, so you know it is safe to lift the sleep mask. When you do, you are met with the child’s highly distressed face.

“Buddy? What’s the matter? How did you get in here?” You have no idea what’s going on.

The child reaches his hands out to you and places them on either side of your face and suddenly your mind is filled with images. You see the interior of what looks to be an Imperial ship filled with storm troopers and other officers, then suddenly you are on the bridge of the cruiser looking at Kerrick in a commander’s uniform. He looks older than you remember and you can see that he is staring at a holo of you. You can’t tell what he’s saying but you can feel the threat that he poses and you are seized with the idea that you are in danger.

The child removes his hands and the images disappear. You heart is pounding and you have broken out in a cold sweat.

“Buddy, is that what’s happening? Is Kerrick after me?” you ask the child wildly even though you know he can’t respond. He just lets out more sad, whiny sounds and now you can hear Din starting to stir.

“What’s goin’ on? Middle of the night,” Din’s sleepy voice comes to you even as it’s still muffled by the pillows.

“Din, wake up, we have to leave, we have to leave right now.” Your voice is urgent but you keep it low so you won’t alert the rest of the household.

“What?” Din says confused.

“The child showed me Imperials coming after us, after me,” you tell him. You want to leap out of bed and start getting dressed but you know his helmet is still off and you won’t move until you know his creed is protected. “Please, put on your helmet.”

Din rolls away from you and you hear shuffling before he says, “Ok, turn around and tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know how he did it, but the child showed me a vision, it was Kerrick, only now he’s a commander and he was looking at a holo of me, and I could feel the danger, that we’re in danger.” Your words are coming out in a jumble but you do your best to explain.

“It could just be a bad dream, couldn’t it?” Din asks.

“How would the kid know about Kerrick? Please, Din, we have to leave, I know that we need to leave.”

“You’re right, cyar’ika, there’s no way the kid could know about your ex-lover, and if you feel that strongly we’ll go right now. It’s ok, don’t panic. I’ll protect you.”

You’re thankful that you have almost everything already packed and you hurry to pull on clothes. You collect the last few things you have strewn about the room before the three of you slink out into the corridor. Thankfully, no one is around and as you stealthily make your way back to the Razor Crest, you manage to avoid seeing anyone. It isn’t until Din takes off and you breach the atmosphere that you feel like you can breathe again. Din is working on putting in coordinates, when a pinging comes in on the long-range scanner.

“There’s an Imperial light cruiser closing in on Angel One,” he states gruffly and he quickly makes the jump to hyperspace.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean she isn’t here? You fucking promised me!” Kerrick’s angry voice rings down the corridor from Mistress Sigrid’s office.

“I don’t know what happened, when my staff went to deliver their breakfast, they weren’t there,” Sigrid explains, embarrassed, “Then we discovered their ship was gone…”

“Such incompetence, no wonder you were of no use to the Empire during the war,” Kerrick sneers at her. He slams his fist down on her desk, “Fucking waste of fuel to come here! Five years of searching and I thought this time I’d finally found her.”

“Sir, they were able to give us some security footage of her. We have her initial interview when she arrived here, and recordings of her competing in some type of contest here.” An ensign brings Kerrick a holopad.

Kerrick brings up the interview footage first, when he sees Din and the child he pauses the images, “This child, she said he was hers?”

“Her ward, she said the Mando rescued him,” Sigrid replies.

“I know this child,” Kerrick says thoughtfully, “Moff Gideon is searching for him, and this must be the troublemaker Mando he spoke about.”

Kerrick looks back at the holopad and stares at your image on the screen. He touches the pad softly as he murmurs, “Still so beautiful, my doll, don’t worry, I’ll find you and bring you back to where you belong. I’ll rid you of that vile Mando and then we’ll be together again, just like it should be. We should have been together today, my doll, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Suddenly, he pulls out his blaster and shoots Sigrid in the heart before whipping around and stalking out of the room. “Come Ensign, we must contact Moff Gideon and see if we can’t pick up the trail of this Mandalorian.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

 Tag list: @grogusmum @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch @haley7242 @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @imthemandalornow @hotsauceonabiscuit​ @overtly-cuteashell​

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. In case you’re wondering, yes, you did remember to grab the sleep masks before you fled ;-) Chapter 8

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 7

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & some lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral between consenting adults, some stalking behaviour. Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

It could have some bearing on the case, she thought, trying to justify this course of action to herself.

She ignored that other little voice in her head which said to her that she was just plain jealous.

Madani’s heels clicked briskly along the corridor and once she turned into her office, she back-heeled the door closed.

She’d come into the office earlier than usual, as she knew deep down that she’d no real justification for using Homeland resources to find out whatever information she could on Billy’s little lady friend.

Her re-usable coffee cup hit the desk with a small bang, her bag got dropped onto the floor and she shoved it further to one side with her foot. She sat down at her desk and switched on her laptop, then quickly signed in and navigated to one of Homeland’s most comprehensive databases, aka WESL. Federal agencies did love their acronyms. This one was actually a little in-joke within her agency; it was pronounced ‘weasel’ and the letters stood for Where Everyone’s Shit Lives. You could find out just about anything about anyone in there.

Madani didn’t know the woman’s name but that wouldn’t stop her. Breadcrumbs, a little trail of breadcrumbs - she’d follow that trail until she tracked her down. Fingers flying over the keyboard, she typed in the name and address of the café in Chelsea. That led to the parent company, and she thought at first she might have to dig through all the company data to find a personnel list.

But no such data-mining was necessary. There on the very first page of company details was a photograph of the CEO. Madani leant back in her chair and took a sip of her almost-cold coffee, staring - no, glaring - at the photo and taking in every detail.

Well, well, well. Not a waitress then.

She cut and pasted the woman’s name into another part of the database, and hit Search. It listed up a whole string of links, and Madani started scrolling through all the minute details of her life, including each of her social media accounts.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy woke you early the next morning with a coffee and several croissants he’d swiped the previous evening from your café, and which he’d warmed through under the grill. “Hey!” you yawned, “I’m the only one who gets to eat my profits!” (This was one of your favourite sayings, mainly because that’s exactly what you did. Not to a huge extent, but still.)

He grinned down at you, “No, I am too! - due to my privileged position.” You got up, heading to the bathroom, saying, “And what would that be, then?” but you had a feeling you already knew the answer you were going to hear. “Your boyfriend!” yelled Billy, as you disappeared down the corridor, laughing at him.

You were also thinking that it hadn’t taken him long to get back into that particular stride. The two of you had spent the entire previous evening having unhurried, sensual make-up sex. He’d been very tender with you, eyes soft, stroking your face and kissing you gently, whispering that you didn’t know how happy you’d made him by giving him another chance. However your legs and back were still aching a bit from some of the gymnastic poses Billy had put you into while pleasuring you beyond belief. You were sure you’d nearly blacked out during one of your several orgasms.

Returning somewhat refreshed, you joined him back in bed and lazed for a little while, watching TV and drinking your coffee and eating your croissant. He’d apologised about the coffee, grinning and saying he knew it wasn’t up to your high standards, but it was the best he could do with his humble little countertop coffee machine. But you’d assured him it was perfectly drinkable, adding that he obviously hadn’t noticed it was the same one you had at home. He’d looked extremely pleased with himself, like a little kid who’d got a gold star at kindergarten. Adorable, in other words.

Deciding that you weren’t going to rush into work that morning, you’d glanced over at Billy at one point, watching him watching TV as he lay on his back, when you noticed that the sheet lying across him had its own version of the Great Pyramid sitting proudly above a certain part of his anatomy. Deciding that this looked like it needed exploring, you ran your hand down his chest onto his stomach then on under the sheet, finding an alert and interested cock, it being very much up and about already. You wrapped your hand around it and gave it a very firm stroke.

Billy gave a low groan when you touched him, sliding his hand over yours on top of the sheet. His feet went flat on the mattress, knees moving up into the air, and he opened his legs to let you cup his balls with your other hand, while you laid your head on his chest. His eyes sparkled at you as you looked up at him, “Whatcha doin’ down there, angel?” he grinned. “Exploring,” you replied, before whipping back the sheet and fastening your lips around his tip. His body went rigid, “Ohhhh!” spilling out of his mouth in surprise. He’d gone down on you numerous times, but suddenly you realised that you hadn’t returned the favour... until now.

You began to lick and suck on him, tongue running up and down his length before swirling back round his tip, adding in little kitten licks and kisses before sucking him off in earnest. You felt his hips starting to give small involuntary thrusts, and you gave his balls a firm massage in your palm. He moaned, long and low, a hand going to the back of your head. His tip grazed the back of your throat but somehow you managed not to gag, then angled your head slightly to take him in even deeper.

By now, Billy was very gently fucking upwards into your mouth, hands gripping the bunched-up sheets, head thrown back with his eyes squeezed shut, then craning up off the pillows to watch you working him, his eyes wide and wild. You pulled back momentarily, taking a deep breath while running your thumb firstly over his tip, then over his slit which was seriously weeping precum, before returning your mouth to his cock. “Oh, fuck,” he ground out as you did so, followed by your name in a long-drawn out whisper. You felt him suddenly tense up, the warmth of his come in your mouth and throat; greedily you swallowed it all up, savouring his salty taste.

You moved your mouth away and slowly licked him a few times as he softened, before delicately wiping your lips with a finger. Billy lay back on the pillows, huffing out little breaths, his dark chocolate eyes finding yours and a big grin appearing on his face. “Damn... you truly are a goddess.” You regally inclined your head, smiling, “Of course I am, lover boy.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy dropped you off at Chelsea later that morning, before heading off to Anvil.

On the drive over there, figuring it was better to quiz him in the car - hopefully less confrontational - you’d very neutrally asked him if he had to see Madani that day. He’d sighed, running a hand through his hair and saying, “Yeah, angel, I do. She’s not gonna be pleased - I ran out on her, left her sitting in the restaurant on her own.”

“Such a shame. I really feel for her,” you muttered, sulkily. He burst out laughing, “Are you jealous?” You looked across at him, deciding to be be honest about your feelings for once, “You know what, Billy? Yes, I am... I don’t like it that you’re going to go crawling back to her. Making all sweet and nice and flirty again with another woman. Why would I be OK with that?” You crossed your arms in front of you, annoyingly you just knew you were pouting, “There you go. I’m jealous. Happy now?”

Looking across at you and chuckling, he said, “Yeah, I am! Look, firstly, gotta admit I love that you’re jealous and told me you are. Means you can’t deny you’ve got feelings for me, angel! Secondly, you truly don’t need to be jealous. I’ll be polite and friendly towards her, nothing more - no more flirting and absolutely no more kissing.” His hand found its way to your thigh and gave a couple of little squeezes, as he told you in a low, sexy voice, “You know that I only have eyes for you. You know I only want you. You’re my girl,” before grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

He’d leant over and kissed you passionately, grabbing you back for more as you made to leave the car.

As you were crossing the street, you realised you were still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Shit. Oh well. You pulled your jacket closed at your neck and went inside the café. Waving a hand and calling out your usual greeting, you hurried upstairs and disappeared into your office. Luckily, you had a selection of clothes stashed up there, for just such an occasion. After changing into a pale pink shirt, black jeans and pale pink Converse, you felt much more able to face the day. Hopefully no-one would notice your clothes had miraculously changed since you’d arrived.

You were wading through a pile of paperwork when a discrepancy you’d noticed yesterday on a delivery note popped into your mind, to do with a recent shipment of coffee beans. You’d meant to check with Jake about it at the time, but had forgotten due to all the Billy stressing you’d been doing. So you made your way downstairs to go through it with him now.

The two of you had been running through the delivered stock vs the delivery note numbers, and as you were counting a stack of coffee bean bags, noticed a woman sitting over by the window with her back to you. It was her hair which had caught your attention. Looked like the same colour and style as the woman in the restaurant with Billy. You frowned, no it couldn’t be.

Then she’d turned her head slightly to watch as a monster truck drove by the café, and you were suddenly sure it was her. You took a deep breath, okay - this was weird. You went back to where Jake was standing, “Hey, did you happen to notice when that woman over there came in?” He tilted his head past yours to look at her, “Uhhh, maybe 10 minutes ago? Why, d’you know her or something?” You shook your head, “No, just thought I saw her in the restaurant Karen and I went to for lunch yesterday. Seems a bit strange she’d turn up here today,” you shrugged, “but it’s probably not her.”

You returned to your mini-stocktake and the next time you looked her way, she’d gone.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Madani arrived back at the office and the first person she spotted was Billy Russo, talking and laughing with Sam. She smirked to herself, wonder what he’d do if he knew she’d just dropped in on his ‘lady friend’. He saw her, his face became serious, and she jerked her head towards her office.

He strolled in behind her, all tall dark handsomeness, and she had to take a couple of deep breaths to stay composed as she turned towards him. Really fucking gorgeous, she thought, looking at him. Which made her anger and jealousy bubble up again, knowing that he’d probably been stringing her along all the time. And she’d decided to call him out on it.

“Russo,” she said in a harsh tone, sitting down at her desk. He also sat down, across from her, and began, “Look, sorry about yesterday....” She slapped her hand down on the desk, making him jump very slightly and stop speaking. “You don’t have to explain, I’ve figured it out for myself.” An eyebrow quirking up at her, “And just what have you figured out, Dinah?”

Triumphantly, she said one thing - his lady friend’s name, and was rewarded by seeing some colour drain from his face. Then his expression hardened and he stood up, walking over to her bookshelf and leaning on it, looking over at her. “And? What’s your point?”

She laughed, “Well, I followed you yesterday when you headed out to Chelsea.” He looked surprised. “Saw you leaving with her and taking her back to your place,” she went on. “Looked her up this morning, huh... not a waitress as I first thought.” His mouth pulled into a tight line, “No, she certainly isn’t,” he bit out.

She stood and walked right up to him, too close for comfort but he had nowhere to go. Gazing right into his eyes, she asked, “Does she know we kissed, Billy? Were maybe about to take it further than that? Huh?”

He stared at her, “Yeah, she does.” She smirked, “And how does she feel about that? Take it she saw us in the restaurant. How happy about us is she?” She felt a momentary spark of hope in her chest, maybe he’d told the woman about this last night and she’d told him to take a hike.

He stood up straight, “Dinah... there is no ‘we’, there is no ‘us’. It was all just a little harmless flirting between co-workers.” Moving towards the door, he turned back to her, “We need to get our concentration back onto the case.”

Then his face softened a little, “And I’m sorry if I made you think it was anything else, but it isn’t. I only met her a few days ago, but we’re already in a relationship. It’s serious.” Her mouth dropped open before it changed into a sneer, “A relationship? You? Since when do you do relationships!”

“Since I met her, Dinah,” he said simply, and left her office, closing the door behind him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

By mid-afternoon, Madani was ready to get out of the office. Her attention span had been all over the place, and she couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything much. All she could think about was the Russo situation. She couldn’t believe it, she really couldn’t.

She was sure he’d felt much more than just ‘harmless flirting’ for her, as he’d claimed earlier. Ridiculous! How dare he try and flip it off as some passing fancy - which had now fully passed, according to him.

Half an hour later, she was parking her SUV in Chelsea again. She sat and thought about the woman inside the café across the road for a few minutes. Russo had claimed that while he’d only been seeing her for a few days, he’d told her all about the two of them. But he could easily be lying. What if he’d been seeing his so-called ‘new’ lady for a lot longer, all the while flirting with her and taking her out on dates? Because that’s what they were, in her head. How could any girlfriend just accept all that and carry on as if it meant nothing?

She just couldn’t leave it alone. And she was going to find out if she did know about all the flirting, the lunches, the drinks after work, the kiss. One way or another. She opened her car door, got out and locked it, before crossing over and walking towards the café.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfiction

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Dutch

(Not my gif)(requested by anonymous)

- You meet Dutch at the beach while the two of you are out with your respective friend groups. Your two groups sort of merge as the night drags on and you begin to talk with Dutch, getting to know each other and laughing together. The night ends and the two of you say goodbye promising to talk the next day at school. 

- You do and the two of you begin a friendship of sorts. At first you think he’s sweet and consider accepting his flirty offers of taking you out until you get a better look at who he really seems to be. His actions rub you the wrong way and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re forced to sit around and watch him (and his friends) bully some kid. 

- Dutch is volatile; he’s explosive, he’s unpredictable and he’s just plain mean. Don’t get him wrong he likes that about himself, the way he can intimidate people without even trying but it bothers him to no end the way that you seem wary of him as though he could even think about hurting you in any way.

- Regardless of how he feels, you try your best to brush off his flirting after you get to see his mean streak although you do remain friends. After all he was always nice to you and fun to be around when his “rivals” weren’t around.

- To his credit the boy takes the hint and lightens up on his attempts of asking you out but a whole new issue arises when he does so: jealousy. Whenever you express interest in someone else it bothers him to no end since you should be his. He always ends up making some sarcastic or passive aggressive comment about the guy in an attempt to deter you from dating them, more often than not he’ll use his reputation to get them to stay away from you. 

-But you never seem to catch on to what he’s doing which leads you to naively introduce him to your new boyfriend. You expect him to be polite or as nonchalant as a normal person usually is when being introduced to their friends boyfriend but he isn’t. He’s cold, rude, mean; he basically harasses the guy right in front of you and even makes some nasty comments towards you as you confront him about his behavior. Listen most of the Cobras do not take rejection/jealousy well.

“You’re a real asshole Dutch. I can’t believe I actually liked you” You growl as you decide you’ve had enough and leave with your date.

- He goes home and lifts some weights to let off a little steam all the while feeling worse and worse about how he acted towards you (only you, he doesn’t feel at all bad about insulting your boyfriend). He’s still angry when he tries to call you later that night even though he’s managed to calm down a bit. Alas that little bit of anger comes right back when you don’t pick up the phone. 

- He drives to your house, he does not give two shits about whether or not you want to see him because he needs to see you. You’ll suddenly just hear your front door being nearly taken off its hinges with the force of someones knocking; you know exactly who it is so you don’t call the cops. You just open the door preparing to tell him off before his hands are on your cheeks and his lips are being pushed against yours. 

- You’re too shocked to do anything as he pushes you back into your house all the while continuing to kiss you, you’re just glad you’re parents aren’t home. When you finally break apart from him you aren’t sure what to say, you just stand there for a minute as you try to process things before you tell him that he’s still an asshole. He just gives you a wolfish grin before he replies with “sure am” and kisses you again. 

- Long story short he stays for a while and “apologizes” to you, and you break up with your boyfriend (who you had only been dating/seeing for like three days) the next day before school. 

- Riding on his bike with him. He loves feeling you cling onto him and likes hearing his friends whoop and holler as he rides off with you.

- He just likes laying on you so much?? The two of you get home from school or he comes over after karate practice and just moves himself between your legs and lays his head against your stomach (or your boobs).

- Speaking of napping, your bed is so much more comfortable to him and he can’t explain why. Anytime he’s hurt or really exhausted he finds himself just wanting to be with you in your bed.

- He loves when you sit and watch him work on his bike. Just make sure to wear clothes you dont like when you go to see him becuase you’ll end up with motor oil handprints on you.

- Going to all his tournaments and making sure he knows he did amazing (or his best) since his sensai won’t. He usually has to fight the urge to go and kiss you whenever he wins a match.

- Touchy touchy~ His arm is always around your shoulders or waist often pulling you in to kiss your cheek or forehead.

- He flexes whenever you look at him while he’s shirtless.

- If you’re in his gym class just know that he’s going hard during soccer practice. You have to see that he is the ultimate beefcake and the best choice for a boyfriend, he’ll make you see.

- He likes carrying your books for you, he likes to show how strong he is.

- Piggyback rides.

- Hugs from behind.

- Part of me feels like Dutch doesn’t like Johnny, or at least has some kind of grudge against him. Just the way he acts with him seems so off? Like he’s faking it. So going off of that- you get to hear all the inside drama of the Cobra gang and get to listen to his rants about what Lawrence has ‘done this time’.

- Just shaking your head and smiling whenever he brags about his wins or his position at the dojo.

- Biting back a smile when he mocks someone making him look like an utter doofus in the process. You can’t help it when he makes such a stupid face.

- Comforting him after he loses a match or when he’s angry/upset in general.

- Taking care of him after fights even though he’s sort of grumpy during the whole ordeal. It’s usually because he’s embarrassed that you’re “babying” him or that you’re seeing him so vulnerable.

- Getting used to the taste of blood.

- Having to try to hold him back whenever he tries to escalate a situation or fight someone.

- He’s pretty possessive, you’re like a trophy to him and anyone who tries to take away his trophies are going to have a bad time.

- Jealousy…obviously. He’s just a jealous person in general not just in regards to you and other guys.

- I feel like he’s the type of guy who would try to make the person who he thinks is a potential threat uncomfortable enough that they just leave. Like he’ll try to make out with you or get really handsy until they get the hint.

- He’s very protective of you. He’s sort of like a sweet murder puppy that you can sick on someone whenever you need.

- Wearing his Cobra jacket.

- He can be really soft when he wants to be, you just have to unlock that part of him.

- Whenever he stands behind you he likes to hold you by your forearms and lean his head against yours.

- Getting him to teach you some basic karate moves. He thinks it’s cute seeing you mimic his moves and how excited you get when you do something right for the first time. He calls you his little protégée or his mini me.

- He also thinks it’s really cute when you steal his dojo hat or something and do little stereotypical karate poses to make him smile.

- He either acts really nonchalant when you fight or he gets really angry. When he’s nonchalant he pretends that whatever issue he has isn’t bothering him or that you’re acting really childish for having the problem that you have. When he gets angry he’ll yell at you or argue like his life depends on it.

- You’ll usually wind up breaking up with him or leaving the room in a fit of rage. Neither ends very well. He always tries his hardest to get you to talk to him again or take him back without actually apologizing or admitting he’s wrong until he’s forced to.

- Going out to eat with him after practice.

- So many nicknames/pet names, a lot of them are borderline insults but that’s just his thing.

- He jokingly makes you arm wrestle him and pretends that he can’t handle how strong you are to make you giggle.

- Sarcastically complimenting him when he bully’s someone or is threatening to do something.

“Mmm, oh yes, you’re sooo tough and strong.”

- Sitting on his lap.

- Kissing the corner of his mouth which results in him pulling you back for a proper kiss.

- Lots of making out, it’s the best way to calm him down or make him feel better. It’s a nice distraction.

- Tasteful Hickeys; basically anywhere you can cover up easy if you wanted to.

- He ogles you whenever you’re at the beach or wearing tight clothes. He wolf whistles and gives you a grin whenever you catch him.

- Getting close to his friends and trying to help all of them when they need it, especially after they have some bad losses and get told off my Kreese. At least a few of them have/had crushes on you.

- He doesn’t say “I love you” a lot but he knows that he does and he makes sure you do too.

- He can’t wait until he can marry you, he really appreciates everything you’ve done for him and can’t imagine his life without you.

#karate kid headcanon #karate kid imagine #karate kid headcanons #karate kid x reader #dutch karate kid #80s movie headcanon #80s movie headcanons #80s movie imagines #80s movie imagine #80s imagine #80s imagines #dutch karate kid imagine #dutch karate kid headcanons #dutch karate kid headcanon

[bbbarneswrites]

High-Heeled Heaven

Read Chapter Four: Dsquared2 RiRi Sandals

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: In which Sebastian can’t help but appreciate his girl’s high-heels shoes. Genre: Romance/fluff Warnings: Swearings 1,733 words

Notes: Inspired by Hell in High Heels by Jewelgirl04, I decided to write a little series of drabbles so we can be trash about how Seb likes high-heels. I’m not even sorry. Each chapter will be inspired by a different pair of shoes that I wish I could actually afford, lmao. The link down there provides a better look to the shoes if you want and in the middle of the fic there’s a link for the full outfit. I’m not very happy with this one but I hope you all enjoy! Next chapter we’re finally getting into 2017 Seb. Happy reading! <3

Chapter Five: Valentino Rockstud Pumps

New York is already falling into its usual cold temperatures as Halloween passes by and Thanksgiving rolls around, leaving you to enjoy the holidays at home now that your lastest film is completely wrapped up and set to be in the early stages of post-production.

As neither you or Sebastian have any real Thanksgiving ideas at first, you originally plan to spend the holiday catching up with your lost loved tv shows on Netflix.

God knows how much you’ve been working lately without a single day to just unwind.

But given that your busy schedule hasn’t offered you much time to visit your hometown or your family lately, you decide to indulge Sebastian’s proposed idea to fly in your parents to New York so they can spend a weekend with you after all these long months.

And since this is the first time they’re going to be actual visitors in a place that you now own, you decide to play up a good hostess and set up a nice Thanksgiving dinner for them even though the holiday isn’t something you usually fawn over.

So after picking them up at the airport in that Thursday morning and checking both in a spa hotel for the day, you’re finally able to focus on the night’s plans without any worries.

You love them dearly but you know that they’ll keep hovering over you all day to help even if it’s meant to be a weekend to relax.

Even though you’re a fairly decent cook, you had decided earlier to not ruin the day, prefering to trust your dinner menu to one of Lia’s chef friends who was nice enough to offer her catering services at last minute despite the busy date.

And much to your surprise, the whole dinner arrangement turns out to be easier than you thought.

Now that it’s a few hours into the night and you’re waiting for your parents’ Uber to arrive, you can’t help but be a little suspicious over Sebastian’s suddenly awkward behavior.

“Keep frowning and your face is getting stuck like that.” You tease him with a little grin as he sits on the other side of the kitchen’s counter, elbows on the surface while watching you finish the last fruit plate by the sink. “I love your pretty face too much to let it waste.”

Sebastian breaks out of his reverie with a huffed laugh, his expression melting into an amused one though he tries to sound at least a bit offended at your playful words.

“So that’s why you’re with me?” He purses his lips as a way to maintain his façade, rising his eyebrows in question when you smile knowingly by the other side of the counter, now standing right in front of him. “Just for my good looks?”

Though both of you know that it’s not only because of that, you can’t complain about his looks at all.

Right now is living proof of how amazingly good looking he can be – his hair perfect styled in a fluffy mess  as a light shade of stubble covers his cheeks, somehow looking perfect with his burgundy sweater, leather jacket and a pair of pants that look sinful around his thighs. So, nope...you’re most definitely not complaining.

“That and a few other things that shall not be mentioned right now.” You reply with a wink that he chuckles at instantly, shaking his head at your antics before you cut the banter. “Are you sure you don’t want to call your mom today? There’s still time to come over.”

“I’m sure.” Seb says assuringly, lips curved up in a kind smile that you can’t help but swoon at before he gives a little nonchalant shrug. “She said they were going out with a few family friends to a restaurant or something.”

You hum in understanding, pretending to adjust a strawberry in the fruit plate as a way to play around until you can get to the point.

You think you might have a slight idea of why he’s acting this awkward and nervous and if your suspicions are right, you might know how it feels to be in his shoes so that’s why you’re trying to approach the matter as easily as you can.

“Okay...so what’s up with you today?” You ask with a little grin, his expression immediately turning into a feigned clueless one that you can’t help but snort at. “I can see you’re fidgeting from miles away, Seb.”

“I’m not.” He denies instantly, a short nervous laugh escaping from his lips as you glance pointedly at him, noting his drumming fingers on the counter’s surface. “What? I’m not– I’m not fidgeting.”

“You can’t tell me you’re nervous.” You state playfully, an amused grin gradually growing on your lips as his sudden silence kinda confirms your earlier suspicious, not failing to make you laugh at his sillyness. “You are, aren’t you? Seb!”

Sebastian can’t help but sigh with your words, his glare on you softening second by second until he gives a little nervous chuckle that you smile at instantly.

Sebastian normally turns out to be a very confident guy. He knows what he’s capable of and he knows how good he looks so that gives him a little boost of confidence at times. He’s charming and knows his way around words if he needs them to act in his favor, often rendering the people around him speechless.

This other side of him is completely the opposite and you still love it anyway.

He can be confident and charming but he can also be vulnerable and nervous when something means a lot to him. Right now it’s exactly that and your heart might have skipped a beat or two at what his reaction truly means behind it all.

“This is my first time meeting your family.” Sebastian says as he runs a hand through his hair, a frown settled between his eyebrows despite the fond smile playing on your lips. “Give me some credit, alright? I’m allowed to be nervous.”

Still grinning like a fool, you don’t waste any time before walking around the counter to wrap him up in your arms. With a content hum and a quick appraising glance to your outfit, Sebastian gladly lets you step into the space between his legs, his hands resting on your hips as you press a kiss to his pouty lips.

From that moment on, it’s just a countdown until he brings up a certain something and you know it. Not that you should be focusing on that right now.

“You’ve met them before, silly.” You finally reply, rolling your eyes playfully as you raise a hand to scratch fondly his stubbly cheeks. “And I know it was just through FaceTime and Skype but still. You flirted with my mother throughout our entire call in the first time.”

As you notice he’s struggling to hold back a smirk, you can’t help but roll your eyes because you still hear a lot from your mom about the day he openly flirted and completely charmed with her after accidentally showing up behind you during the call.

“But it’s not the same and you know it.” Sebastian shakes his head with a huff, his eyes locking with yours as he presses a small kiss to your wrist. “I just wanna make a good impression.”

“You will because you look damn handsome tonight and you’re a natural charmer.” You beam, pressing a last kiss to his lips before stepping away from him with a laugh. “If you only knew how much my mother gushes about you on the phone, though.”

With his hands now falling to his thighs, Sebastian doesn’t say anything as he takes his time on watching you, taking in every piece of your body and every little detail of your outfit as you stand a few steps away from him with a bashful smile, knowing exactly what’s coming next just by his look.

The dress you’re currently wearing is actually your doing, another online purchase as you’d been roaming through some sites before falling in love with the short, navy blue Valentino dress, the space print and loose fit closing the deal for you despite the price.

The shoes, on the other hand, are also from Valentino but have another story.

“You look beautiful.” Seb calls out, nervousness forgotten and mischief all over his voice as you roll your eyes with his flirty demeanor, trying to play off your burning cheeks. “And I love the shoes. I knew it would fit you just right.”

Indulging him with a playful twirl and a pose much like the first time he ever mentioned his liking for your shoes choices back in Toronto, you laugh sheepishly and step further to him again, now palming your hands on his thighs to lean closer and kiss him.

“They did fit just right.” You mumble with a teasing smile against his mouth, his grin widening when you press another quick peck to his lips. “Bonus points to you because Dani said I can wear them with pretty much everything if I need to.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs smugly, a hand on your hip pulling you closer to his body again. “I’m a man of taste.”

With a playful scoff and a tug of his jacket, your lips are meeting in a sweet kiss again. Taking the moment to just enjoy each other properly for the first time during the day, Sebastian’s hands are soon squeezing your hips while your own are buried into his brown locks, messing up his hairstyle even more though he doesn’t seem to care one little bit.

But right when your lips are making its way to his neck and his hands are sliding down to the hem of your dress, your apartment’s intercom starts ringing upon your parents’ arrival.

Pulling away from each other in a haste,  Sebastian can’t help but look slightly grumpy.

“Yes, you are.” You hold back a smile at his funny face, running a hand through the lapels of his jacket before kissing his neck and using the opportunity to whisper in his ear. “And if you’re a good boy tonight, you’ll get to enjoy even more later.”

His face is more than enough to know you have a long night ahead of you. So much to be thankful for.

“I’m counting on it.”

Chapter Six: Gianvito Rossi Plexi Pumps

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #high heeled heaven #drabble game #sebastian stan x you

[just-hockeythings]

Oops- Freddie Andersen Part 5

I’m in such a Freddie loving mood after that game I just had to post this next part I’ve had written for a little while. It’s kind of short but the next part is also almost done so I should be posting that relatively soon! Thanks for reading!!

Part four can be found here 

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little flirtatious 

Word count: 1.2

It’s the day before the game and you’re getting ready to leave work. Earlier that day you had asked your Toronto best friend (Y/F/N) to go to the game with you. She was there the night of the whole texting adventure and was pretty supportive of you just being friends with Freddie. She also happened to be a huge hockey fan so you knew she would appreciate it the most.  You made plans to get dinner beforehand and get to the game early enough to watch warm-ups. You weren’t totally sure what to expect but you were really excited nonetheless. You ordered a Maple Leafs shirt online to wear and had been thinking about what else to wear all day.  You had spoken to Freddie a couple more times throughout the week, it wasn’t anything close to talking constantly but you just asked how each other was doing and told the other things about your day. You talked to him just like you would any of your other friends and romantic thoughts only popped into your head sometimes. You told yourself it was just societal norms pressuring you into thinking about him that way because he’s a guy and you’re a girl and that’s just how it is or whatever. You pushed the thoughts away and just enjoyed talking to him.  

“So are you ready for the big game tomorrow?” reads your last text from Freddie.  You didn’t get the chance to respond right away but you could now that you were leaving work. You pulled on your cost, grabbed your bag, and walked out the door, phone in hand.

“Are YOU ready for the big game tomorrow? All I have to do is sit, drink, and watch some hockey u have to stop a bunch of pucks and try not to get run over by huge guys on sharp skates”

You smile at you clever response before putting your phone down and driving home. You have a response by the time you get home but don’t check it until you’re sitting in your living room. You make some hot chocolate, wrap up in a blanket and turn the tv on to one of your favorite tv shows.

“In case you forgot I am a PROFESSIONAL. Get ready to be wowed.”

You rolled your eyes at the cockyness but deep down you kinda liked it.  You send a couple of eye rolling emojis and “I think I’ll be ready”.  You then text your friend confirming your plans for tomorrow. You spent the rest of the night relaxing, topping it off with a nice hot bubble bath. You lit some candles, turning on your favorite soothing music, and soaked in your hot bubbly tub. You had stopped texting Freddy a little bit ago but decided a bathtub snap is totally an appropriate thing to send to a friend right? You sent the snap to a couple of your other friends too just to be safe.  It was just a picture of bubbles, candles and your legs, nothing too crazy just showing you were having a nice bath, and it was a pretty good picture if you did say so yourself. Once the picture was sent you set your phone on the ground and sank into the water. You hummed along to your music and let yourself unwind.  There were very few things you loved more than a nice hot bath after a long week of work. After a few minutes you looked over and noticed your phone lighting up with a notification. You dried off your hands a little and picked up your phone. You had a couple responses from you snap, just a couple of “you lucky bitch” “what kind of bubble bath is that” and other responses from your friends, but you saved Freddie’s response for last. You pressed the square by his name and were pleasantly surprised by grinning shirtless Freddie. “ long day?” the snap read, but you were too focused on his broad, naked shoulders. And that cute like grin god damn… you stop yourself, because you should not be thinking about a friend like that. You send him a close up pouty face that just says “yes”. He sends back is own pouty face that says “im soorry” You stare at the picture until it’s gone, trying not to think about how nice it would be to have your hands on that chest again. You knew you should stop but you were in a such a good mood and you just couldn’t help you self. You send a picture that’s a little more thigh than you would probably send any of your other friends that says “tomorrow will be great tho so its fine” Freddie sends back a picture of his own legs, mocking your own pose that said “i’ll make sure of it” you know the picture is making fun of you a little but you couldn't help but admire his thighs. Damn that boy has some nice thighs.

It was late, you were too relaxed from your bath, Freddie was being flirty. These were all the things you told yourself after sending your next picture. You flip the camera to selfie but don’t close too much on your face. Your picture isn’t really a topless one, but is does definitely show more chest than you would send to a friend. You bite your lip a little, not too much that it’s over the top but it’s a suggestive look for sure. You retake it a couple of times making sure you get just the right amount of sultry and type “how do you plan on doing that?” You feel a little tinge of regret after hitting send, but it goes away as soon as you get his response.  It’s partially his face, making bedroom eyes that made you a little bit tingly, but mostly his chest. His broad beautiful chest that you want to kiss and bite and wow you should NOT be thinking about him like this. The snap says “you’ll just have to wait and see babe” and it gives all you all kind of not-just-friends feelings. This is wrong you think to yourself, I shouldn’t be leading him on right? But he knows, it’s just a little fun. You use these thoughts to convince yourself sending another snap is a good idea. It’s a slight variation of your other snap, it’s more chest and less face, mostly just your mouth which is pouting just a little. It’s not quite a rated R picture but it’s pretty close. “I can’t get a little hint?” you type and hit send. You stare at your phone waiting for his response, and you are luckily because you get a notification almost right away. It’s a picture of of his lower body. He’s wearing dark basketball shorts and apparently nothing else, the snap says “No darling you’ll have to wait” You drop your phone on the bathroom floor and slide down into the water groaning. He so fucking hot you want to scream. You realize now you definitely shouldn’t have started anything. You decide to drain you bath and get ready for bed before you do anything else you might regret. You send him one last snap, it’s you wrapped in your towel and it says, “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow, goodnight”

#freddie andersen #freddie andersen imagines #frederik andersen #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #writing requests #My writing

[darklingwatches]

Terminator - The Sarah Connor Chronicles - S1E1 - Pilot

What’s going on: Sooo... Sarah has a dream to start that gives us a nice little entry into the world along with what’s at stake. She wakes up in her safe life with a fiance and proceeds to freak out once he leaves for work, going to wake John and tell him they need to leave. So they ditch the guy and head out, leaving him to go to the cops and learn about the stuff that went down in T2 along with her belief in the robots and obsession with Skynet. Thus we get exposition and the introduction of an FBI agent that’s chasing her. Nice work, show.

At John’s new high school, he meets a cute girl who’s pretty nosy and kind of flirty. He tells his mom just how much he hates the place, and you kinda can’t blame him, since the very next day he’s attacked by a Terminator posing as his sub. Terminator shoots cute girl, but that’s okay, since she’s a Terminator, too! One that offers up the infamous ‘come with me if you want to live’ line right after she runs over the evil Terminator just before it can shoot John.

Evil Terminator captures Sarah, does the whole ‘mimicking her voice’ thing, only to have Good Terminator walk in and pull the same trick with John’s voice. They fight, in the process destroying Sarah’s rental house, and Good Terminator shuts Evil Terminator down by frying its circuits (although that’s only good for 2 minutes.) Sarah, John, and Good Terminator drive off, and we find out that she’s from 2027 and Skynet’s set to go online in 2011, but it’s not known who builds it this time.

After talking to John, Sarah decides to find out who’s building Skynet and take them down. There’s a convo with John and the Good Terminator where we learn that she’s a different model of Terminator than we’ve ever seen before, one that can eat, for one thing. They head for LA to talk to the Dysons, where they get a less-than-warm welcome and meet up with Evil Terminator again, who chases after them and has his skull half-exposed by a blown-up truck, but not before he manages to shoot Sarah. She drops John off at a store to get first-aid supplies, then has Good Terminator patch her up while John’s gone.

The next day, Good Terminator takes them to a bank, pulls a gun, and has a clerk hand over the keys to the safety deposit boxes and lock them in the vault. She punches a box open, gets out a whole mess of keys, and they all start opening boxes and pulling random machine parts out. Turns out it’s a super-weapon from the future that was built over the past 40 years, and when Evil Terminator shows up and starts ripping its way into the vault, they fire the weapon off and make a jump to the future using a time machine that was also hidden in the vault. They land, buck naked, in the middle of a freeway, where they cause an accident or two, along with a lot of gaping, before they run off to mug some horny dudes for their clothes. Show ends with the three of them settling in, while a news report plays, showing Sarah’s face to the FBI agent and her former fiance.

Random thoughts about it: I love Sarah exploiting the pervy cop’s ogling her legs in her dream so she can knee him in the face. It’s the first of what I’m hoping will be many times the show uses men’s lechery to give someone a chance to kick their ass. And Jesus, I’d forgotten that Sarah’s played by the same actress who does Cersei. Badass women must just be her specialty.

I’m thinking that whoever wrote this show has or had a teenage boy. John’s 15 at the start, and the attitude he serves up is painfully reminiscent of Kidlet’s teen years - one minute a sweet kid and the next a jerkass that makes you want to strangle him.

Skynet seems to really give less of a shit than ever about keeping itself hidden. A robot openly attacks John in a class full of witnesses, has its thigh laid open so everyone can see that it’s a robot, and keeps going anyway. Either Skynet’s gotten so assured that it is inevitable or the robot it sent back this time lacks common sense. Either way, there were a whole bunch of kids able to tell the police (and the FBI agent) about seeing a shooter with a robot leg. Later, that same robot shows up right in front of a SWAT team with large chunks of its skull visible, then leaves them alive to talk about it.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I really do think the future John Connor programs the Terminators he sends back to save himself with the ‘come with me’ line as a special message to himself. He’d probably heard the story from his mother about what his father first said to her, so the first Terminator was a call back to that. And every time he sends a Terminator back and it saves his life with those words, it reinforces his trust in them, until it becomes a clear code, a way to verify that this one was sent by John instead of Skynet.

The moment where John and Sarah say ‘nobody’s ever safe’ at the same time strikes me as the point where John’s growing-up truly begins. Up until then, I don’t think he’d really understood the lengths these things were willing to go to to kill him. Understandable, since the last real attempt was when he was something like 10, but now he’s getting it, seeing just how badly Skynet wants him dead. And he’s starting to understand that he can’t run or put his head in the sand and hope it goes away - he’s going to have to stand and fight, and that’s what John Connor really ends up being all about. (And there’s a whole essay there in how Skynet actually creates John Connor, but I won’t go into it here.)

Is it a keeper? Oh, yes. In just one episode I’m reminded of how I love this show.

#tscc #season 1

[valeriianz]

helllooooooooo. dis one. "i haven’t thought of you since we broke up in college, but we just matched on a dating site and huh i guess that spark is still there"

i wanted to write something cute and flirty but instead its kinda ehhh but i hope you like it anyway! lol from this prompt list

Tinder was weird. Like, not as vain ashumpR, still full of guys who just wanted random hookups, but therewas definitely more options for a relationship to start. Althoughwhen you could just swipe left or right based on one photo, vanitywas still a thing.

Oliver would always check out a man’sbio, never judging on looks alone, because he wasn’t looking for aone-time thing (though a lot of the men he matched with wanted that).He’d been on a few dates, most going really well, friendly, but nevera spark really. And if there was a burning interest on Oliver’s endto take it further, it never happened. Oliver blamed his poor socialskills for that one, wondering if he came off too needy or nervous.

As a man nearing his thirties, Oliverchastised himself enough for sinking so low as to use a “dating”app, but it is what it is. And he’d feel embarrassed about it later.

One particular Friday night foundOliver in his apartment, drinking alone and absentmindedly browsingTinder while Netflix played in the background. Being a little tipsywhile he chatted with strangers was always a little easier, likebeing at a bar, without the awkward fidgeting and giggles he stillhadn’t grown out of.

Swipe, swipe, swipe, take a sip of hisrum and coke, swipe… then a familiar face made Oliver pause, therim of the glass pressed against his bottom lip. On his screen was adevastatingly handsome man, lips pulled up in a half smile, haircombed back, scruff well-maintained, wearing a suit jacket sharpenough to cut. He was posed on a sidewalk, as if someone just stoppedhim on the street and asked for his picture. Oliver swallowed,looking below the picture to confirm his obvious recognition:

Connor, 27.

Oliver rolled his glass along his lips,staring in contemplation before clicking on the picture, readingConnor’s short bio.

I’m not big on talking. Send mesomething nice.

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head.Guess his playboy ex hadn’t changed in the past five years. He swipedthrough the pictures Connor had, recognizing one with Michaela at abar, a selfie of him sweaty and rugged in the woods, hiking, and onemore with him lounging against a brick wall, looking like a modelstraight out of a men’s magazine.

They hadn’t spoken since Oliver brokeup with him, after Connor admitted he had cheated on him. It had beenrough, humiliating, and broke something in Oliver that took a longtime to mend. Curiosity and drunken logic found Oliver swiping right,his heart leaping into his throat after he realized what he’d done.

But then immediately after, the screendimmed, and a message flashed up: “It’s a match!”

Oliver’s breath hitched. Connor hadfound him too, and apparently also swiped right.

Now what? Oliver waited, watching hisphone in gross anticipation. He set it down, trying to focus onwhatever show was on his TV, taking another sip of his drink.

His eyes shifted down to his phone,wondering if Connor would message him first, or at all. Maybe he alsodrunkenly swiped right. Oliver couldn’t even know when it happened…he hadn’t had Tinder for long, maybe a month or so, Connor might nothave found him tonight… not on a Friday.

Most likely Connor was at a bar,chatting up a nice looking stranger to go home with… then walk outbefore the other guy even thought of going to sleep.

A notification flashed on Oliver’sphone, he had received a message on Tinder.

Downing the rest of his drink, Oliveropened the app and attempted to calm his erratic heart as he openedConnor’s message.

Fancy meeting you here

Oliver laughed to himself.

I could say the same thing. Thoughtdating sites weren’t your thing

Immediately after:

Tinder is a socially recognizedhookup app, c'mon Oliver, you know this.

Is that why you’re here?

A long pause. Oliver pulled his legs upand brought a throw pillow into his lap.

Kinda, humpr gets boring

Oliver stared at the words, tapping hisfinger on the phone.

Are you dating?

Another pause. Oliver wondered whatConnor was doing, where he was.

I’m trying

Oliver rested his chin on his knees,watching the screen. It had been so long since he’d spoken to Connor,this should be awkward; they ended on such bad terms but… allOliver could feel was familiarity and warmth. So Connor was trying todate, did that mean he wanted a relationship now? Was he trying to beserious, monogamous?

I miss having a boyfriend… for howmuch I whined and deflected on it, it was good with you

Oliver pulled his lips in, guardinghimself. Connor sent another soon after.

Really good.

Sighing, Oliver shut his eyes, tuckinghis head lower so his forehead rubbed against his knees. Connordidn’t get to do this. Giving Oliver and amazing 3-year friendshipand then the best 6 months of his life as “lovers” beforesleeping with some other dude, admitting it a month after ithappened, and then offering nothing but radio silence and now this.This… unconventional meet-up with Connor basically admitting hemissed Oliver.

Stop that, Oliver sent, sighingloudly.

Sorry

Oliver rubbed his hand down his face,abandoning his phone for the time being and taking his glass to thekitchen for a refill.

When he came back, Connor had sent himanother message.

What are you up to?

Trying to play it casual.

You mean right now?

Sure.

Oliver looked around, shouldersslumping.

Home alone, drinking and Netflix.

So same ‘ol same 'ol, huh?

Oliver couldn’t help but grin at that.

Well you know what they say, allwork and no play…

That was the rum talking. Oliver stillfelt the need to be careful, but the alcohol brought out his oldfondness for the easy, flirty banter Connor and him used to exchange.

Have you been seeing anyone?Connor sent after a few minutes. Oliver wondered if he’d resistedresponding to that in a dirty way.

Eh, a few here and there, nothingserious.

Silence.

You?

More silence. Oliver reminded himselfto ask Connor what he was doing right now.

Same. Nothing substantial, justscrewing around like usual

Oliver could practically hear thesarcasm dripping off that reply.

That’s what you’re best at.

Oliver flinched at his own words. It’sbeen years, he really should back off. But before he could apologizeor amend that, Connor responded.

… are you drunk?

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. I said Iwas drinking.

Yeah but, you’re always so much moresassy when you’re actually drunk.

Oliver huffed, but he was smiling.

A long silence followed after that.Oliver knew it was his turn to talk, but he didn’t know what else tosay. Well, he had a lot to say, a lot he wanted to ask. He wanted toknow how Connor was, did he get his dream job, was he still friendswith that doucheface who crashed on their couch that one time…

Mostly he wondered if Connor thoughtabout him as much as Oliver did. A part of Oliver always hated thathe never gave Connor the chance to explain himself further, that hejust pushed Connor out and never responded to his texts and calls.And how quickly Connor moved on, seemingly angry and forgetting aboutOliver.

Oliver always questioned if they wouldhave ever worked out… they were both irrational and impulsive, itworked as a crazy friendship, but it was dangerously unhealthy as arelationship. They never talked about their problems and had a lot ofangry sex… it was intense and amazing. Connor had been the best sexOliver ever had, hands down. Their sexual chemistry was always insynch and on fire… it made talking not seem that important.

But they had both been young, reckless.Oliver had been Connor’s first boyfriend and he had admitted duringtheir short relationship that he wasn’t sure if he was “doing thisright,” but he always tried, for Oliver… and it seemed sweet atthe time.

Was it though? Had Connor grown andmatured at all from the experience? The fact that he never triedspeaking with Oliver didn’t help much… though Oliver couldn’t blamehim, since it was himself that acted so dramatic about Connor’sregretful confession.

Oliver was just thinking about bed whenhis phone alerted him to a message from Tinder.

Why did you swipe me?

Oliver was very drunk now. He shouldprobably wait til morning to respond to anything further, but afamiliar ache in his chest resurfaced as he clutched his phone tight.

Why did you? He countered.

Just hopeful, I guess. You?

Curious… I guess. And drunk.

I’m drinking too. Wouldn’t have theguts to message you otherwise.

Oliver smiled, touching the phone tohis forehead. When he brought it back, Connor had sent anothermessage.

I know it’s been forever, and i’mnot asking you to forgive me, but I really am sorry about what I did.I’ll never get over how much I hurt you…

Oliver sank back into the couch,clutching the throw pillow tightly to his chest. He waited forsomething more, Connor defending himself or rambling about whathappened, but nothing followed.

He swallowed, tapping out his responseslowly.

I forgive you

Thanks

And then:

You’re still too good for me

Oliver sighed.

Well I don’t know about that… it’sbeen a while, why don’t we catch up?

Instantly: I’d love to.

Oliver bit his lip, his heart wasthumping again.

Busy tomorrow morning?

Nope.

Let’s have breakfast.

A short pause.

Sounds amazing.

Oliver grinned. He’d be nervous aboutthis tomorrow, but right now, drunk off rum and high off oldmemories, good and bad, he couldn’t wait to see Connor.

#coliver #connor walsh #oliver hampton #htgawm #my writing #very eh #much back and forth #so tinder #lol #samwhambam

[mintypothos]

tbh burr walking into work rockin heels for a dare he DOES NOT stumble he just works it. everyone's staring, the girls are actually so confused why he can walk so well, the Rev squad has taken over 100 pics each. Washington can't deny he is hella rocking the heels  -anon via @badromantics

Here’s a 2.6k fic because what else am I doing with my life. The rest is under the readmore.

“It's impossible,” Lafayette huffed under his breath. Aaron spared a look from over his book- everyone in his friends group were strict enforcers of the “no work while visiting” rule.

“What's impossible?” Aaron asked- probably not a great question to ask, but he was bored.

Lafayette frowned and pulled up something red and strappy. Stiletto-heeled, ankle strap shoes dangled from his fingers. “It looks amazing on me, I know it! But I can not walk on them for the life of me! It is utterly impossible.”

Aaron gave the shoes a contemplative stare. “It's not impossible. But if you've never worn heels, they could be difficult; I'll give you that. Start with kitten heels, perhaps, or go for wedges and platforms. They have a wider base, so they're easier to balance on.”

Lafayette stared back, a confused squint on his face. “Little Burr, how do you know so much about heels?”

Aaron didn't bother taking the bait. He wasn't ashamed of what he knew, but he did deserve some secrets. “I just do. If you want to jump straight to stilettos, you can, it's just going to take a little effort.”

“A little?” Lafayette threw a hand to his chest. “I have been trying, and I have been failing! I bet you couldn't take a single step!”

This drew an unconscious smirk from Aaron's lips. If only they knew. “You're right. I couldn't in those, they're far too big for me.” Even if Aaron couldn't tell just from looking, if they fit Lafayette, they most certainly did not fit Aaron.

Lafayette crossed his arms. Aaron recognized a glint of challenge in his eyes. He knew where this was going. “Alright. I bet you could not spend an entire day in similar heels in your size without falling once, or taking them off.”

It wasn't great for one's feet to wear stilettos all day, but Aaron could do it if he wanted to. The question was whether he wanted to. “I don't do bets just for the sake of betting.” Aaron's intent lay in the air, silent but clear. What was Lafayette willing to put on the line?

“Alright. You're bluffing.” Lafayette frowned, his forehead creasing in concentration. Then, with a sudden grin, Lafayette spoke. “The loser of the bet has to do the others' bidding for a week!”

Aaron wasn't bluffing, of course, but there was no point in telling Lafayette that. Plus, the stakes were... interesting. “Is that a work week, or the full 7 days?”

“7 days. Next Sunday, to the following Sunday. Are you in?”

Aaron pretended to give the question a long, careful consideration. His mind was already made up, but there was little sense now in tipping Lafayette off about his miscalculation.

“Alright. I'm in.” Aaron kept his face blank. He shook Lafayette's proffered hand, sealing the deal.

Lafayette's grin turned to a predatory smirk. “The bet starts tomorrow morning and does not end until midnight. I hope you like bowing and fetching drinks.”

Aaron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We'll see where we land, won't we?”

Lafayette wouldn't know what hit him.

-

Lafayette was waiting at Aaron's door come morning, phone out and ready in one hand and two coffees with a paper tray in the other.

“I feel like waiting by my door might be a little much,” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “And is that recording? Do I need to invest in a restraining order?”

Lafayette shrugged, incapable of his usual dismissive hand wave, hands full as they were. “A week of servitude is on the line, little Burr. I'm going to check you aren't cheating.”

Aaron did roll his eyes at this. “Well,” he gestured down at himself. “Does this look like cheating to you?” Aaron barely avoided striking a pose, however slight. He had to admit he was proud of his choice. Four inch, needle-thin closed toe stilettos, in a shiny black the exact shade of his usual work dress-pants. They were a classic in the formal work place, made interesting with a rich red underside.

“Little Burr, you have yet to take your first step.” Lafayette shifted his phone, aiming it more squarely in Aaron's direction.

Well, he wasn't wrong. Aaron straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and walked. Lafayette gaped as Aaron smoothly strode towards and then past him. “I assume one of those are mine?” He paused to gesture at the drinks. “A bit rude to stalk me with a camera, otherwise.”

Lafayette jumped, finally moving. He swung to Aaron, actually needing to catch up with a short jog. “Wha- how did you-!?”

Aaron grinned. It wasn't often that Lafayette looked so completely flabbergasted. On his fine features, the expression was almost adorable. “You shouldn't make bets without full knowledge of what you're betting about.” He taunted, just to rub it in.

“Hey,” Lafayette drew out the note, accusatory. “What are your secrets, little Burr?”

“They wouldn't be secrets if I told you,” Aaron countered. “Now pass me one of those coffees.”

-

Aaron thought Lafayette's reaction was dramatic, but it was nothing compared to coming to work. He should have, perhaps, seen it coming. Dramatics were an every day occurrence at Washington and Associates; today was no different.

Alexander was the first to greet them, outside the office. He had clearly been told about the bet, not that the forewarning stopped him from gaping like his jaw had been dislocated. It was a little amusing, but by now Aaron was more concerned about getting to work.

He took a long sip of coffee and strode past Alexander in his best, slightly swaggering walk. “You'll catch flies like that, Alexander.” Aaron's hand was on the door by the time Alexander managed to speak.

“Wh- you can wear heels? What the fuck, Aaron?”

Aaron turned back, brows raised. “Does that bother you? Because if it does, you can fuck off...” Aaron trailed off. Alexander was blushing, cherry red from nose to cheeks to ears. “Uh,” Aaron faltered, taken aback. He had just been having fun- and now he felt a little bad. Aaron didn't think he could have that kind of effect outside the stage, without even trying. Maybe good heels had a bigger effect on one's look than he thought.

“Buh,” Alexander stuttered; and then snapped from his stupour at Lafayette's giggle. “Shut up! I'm just not used- you're taller than me now, okay?!” If anything, his blush deepened- but the spell was broken, leaving Alexander huffy and embarrassed. Not an unusual state, for him. Aaron pushed through the door.

Walking into the office was also an adventure, somehow. Jefferson trailed off, mid conversation with Madison, both of their eyes bugging out impressively. Lee choked on a mouthful of coffee, hacking until he turned purple. Eliza somehow gained sparkles in her eyes, face overtaken by an ecstatic smile.

“Those shoes look amazing on you!” She skipped over. “I didn't know you liked heels, Aaron! You have great style, why don't you wear them more often?”

Aaron didn't bother hiding a pleased smile. Eliza was a joy to talk to, no matter the subject. “It's part of a bet, actually. I don't like drawing attention, you know.”

“Well, you've certainly done that today.” Eliza shot the surrounding room of silenced people an appreciative look. “So I guess you have a point. That's a shame, you look fantastic in them.”

“Ah, thanks-” Aaron was cut off by a firm, deep cough.

Washington was out of his office. “I came to see what the silence was about,” He explained himself. Washington scanned the room, quickly landing on Aaron. He sighed, “I don't even want to know.”

With a sharp turn, Washington strode back to his office. Aaron could barely hear the quiet whisper: “I don't deserve this”, before the door slammed shut. Aaron could sympathize.

The presence of the boss, however brief, was enough to push people back to their own business. Actually having to work did wonders on settling things down. Aaron felt lingering stares, and of course Jefferson tried to make a comment- but Madison pulled him away. Aaron made sure to pass Madison a thankful nod.

Of course, come lunch time, things got weird again.

“Let's go out to lunch, little Burr. It's not much of a bet if you sit in your desk all day!” Lafayette jutted a hip out, leaning against Aaron's desk like he belonged there. Aaron carefully watched the stack of files scant millimeters from Lafayette's side, just waiting for the slightest movement to send them scattering to the floor.

“Sounds like something you should have thought of before you set the terms.” A smirk found its way onto Aaron's lips.

Lafayette mirrored the smirk, somehow making it twice as flirty and three times as mischievous. “Little Burr, are you afraid of a challenge?”

The argument was basic and very, very weak. Regardless, Aaron wouldn't mind a nice lunch. “Only if you pay.”

“Deal!” Lafayette chirped, holding out a hand. Aaron took it, expecting a shake. He was hauled to his feet instead, nearly losing his balance. “Oh, should you perhaps be a bit less confident? That stumble was nearly a fall.” Lafayette's smile turned shit-eating.

“You pulled me, doesn't count.” Aaron shot back. Lafayette hummed, tone light and non-committing. Aaron ignored it.

Lafayette sauntered out with Aaron beside him, apparently well over the shock from earlier. He still peeked over at Aaron several times though, seemingly disappointed at Aaron's easy gait, keeping up with him.

Alexander was at the door, because of course he was. He took a quick glance at Aaron's legs, then up at his face- and wow, he did have to crane slightly, Aaron really was taller than him- then fervently away, an embarrassed look on his face. It was an interesting form of power. Aaron tried not to think about it.

It was entirely unsurprising when Laurens and Hercules were found already waiting for them at the diner. Expecting it by now, Aaron let them have their moment. Laurens whistled, loud and impressed; Hercules made a strange squealing sound. They both whipped their phones out.

“It's like you've never seen a man in heels.” Aaron threw a hand against his hip, unimpressed by the day's spectacle. “We better sit down and order soon, lunch break only lasts so long.”

“Oh no,” Alexander, at some point, had found his words. “Washington gave the 'i don't want to know' complaint. As far as he's concerned, today is a write off as long as the work actually gets done. But let's go in anyways, I'm starving.” Alexander threw the doors open.

“You know,” Laurens shot Aaron an up-down, appreciative look. “It's not that none of us have seen men in heels. You just make them look real good.” Aaron faltered at the compliment. He felt surprisingly warm.

“Yeah! You've really got the figure for it, and the posture, of course. How is your posture so good, man?” Hercules grinned, slapping Aaron on the back. He felt himself grow warmer.

“Uh, practice,” Aaron admitted, on the slight side of flustered. Everyone froze, even Hamilton, still holding the door open. “Never mind,” Aaron followed quickly, knowing it was too late.

“Practice, little Burr? Practice where, doing what? I'd like to see whatever it is you practice that requires high heels!” Lafayette shot Aaron a fluttery wink.

“Alright, enough, let's go get lunch or I'm heading back to the office.” Aaron stalked to the door, almost shoving Alexander.

Somehow, they were seated. “Hey Burr, you secretly a stripper?” Laurens stage whispered from the other side of the booth.

Aaron considered the question, and then considered what technically true statements he could make. He was a lawyer, after all. “I'm not,” He said.

“Damn.” Laurens crossed his arms.

“Runway model?” Hercules ventured. “Because if you are, I'd model you any day! Hell, even if you aren't, I'd model you. You look so much more... sophisticated, like this. Not that your normal stance is bad, but you just hold yourself differently.”

Aaron felt a creeping little smile. It was a cute compliment. “No I'm not, and no thank you.”

“I'll discover your secrets yet, little Burr,” Lafayette warned, leaning conspiratorially towards Aaron. The only response Aaron could dignify that with was a short eye roll.

Lunch was surprisingly quick. “It's not worth the effort of demanding those pictures don't get posted everywhere  online, is it?” Aaron tried to peer over at Lafayette's phone. They all had them out, and were damn lucky Aaron didn't mind all that much.

“You know us too well,” Laurens responded with a grin. Alexander and Hercules shrugged. Lafayette shook his head, drawing his phone towards his chest and away from Aaron's sight.

They walked back to the office. “Are you sure you aren't even a little strained?” Lafayette's voice was almost a whine.

“I'm sure,” Aaron chuckled. “Why, nervous yet?”

“Of course not,” Lafayette scoffed. To his credit, he did seem confident. Aaron had no idea how he still was, given Aaron's obvious comfort in the stilettos from the get go. “You'll slip up sometime, all I have to do is be there to see it.”

“There's only half a day of work left, and I've certainly not had any trouble yet” Aaron reminded.

“So there is.” Lafayette did not seem worried in the least.

The reason why was revealed as soon as Aaron shouldered his jacket, lost in thought over what to do, now that work was out and the weekend officially started. Lafayette was waiting by his desk again. Aaron sighed. “Please don't tell me you intend to follow me home and watch me until midnight?”

“That would be a lie,” Lafayette admitted. His lips turned up, clearly pleased with himself.

And thus, the day went. Lafayette tried to challenge Aaron several times. A set of jumping jacks. A set of one-foot hops. Warm-up stretching poses. Aaron humoured him, balance far too good to be threatened by something so juvenile.

There was one thing Aaron's balance wasn't too good for, though. Lafayette challenged him to do a series of squats. Aaron had no problem with that. What he did have a problem with, however, was the firm push Lafayette threw into Aaron's shoulder in the middle of said squat. Completely unexpected and with more than a little force, Aaron toppled onto his back.

“Well, well, well, looks like I won the bet after all.” Lafayette's grin stretched ear to ear.

“That doesn't count, I didn't lose my balance from the shoes, you just pushed me!” Aaron snapped. Honestly, the things these guys tried to pull.

“Ah, but those weren't the terms, were they?” Lafayette made a mocking 'tsk' sound, and Aaron paused. He knew where this was going, shit. “The bet was, you can not take the heels off until midnight, and you can not fall.  All forms of you falling must be valid, as we did not specify what causes of you falling did or did not count.”

“Yeah, but you and I both know what you meant. You're just twisting.”

Lafayette crossed his arms smugly. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Which argument do you think would stand, if taken to court?” God, Aaron hated having lawyer friends. Even though he was one, too.

“It wouldn't ever go to court,” Aaron's protest was token at this point. As annoying as it was, Lafayette did out-smart him. He couldn't help but be impressed.

“Maybe not, but it will go to be judged by our good friends Alexander, Laurens, and Hercules. Who do you think they will side with, in this?”

Aaron sighed. They both knew the answer. “You are a dirty, ridiculous cheater.”

“Yes, but a dirty, ridiculous cheater who won. Remember, the week starts on Sunday.” Lafayette pretended to consider his next words. “Addressing me solely as Monsieur, or sir, will do fine. I'll make sure to have the maid dress sent to you before then.”

Aaron froze, disbelieving. “Maid dress?”

“Of course! And now that I know you can handle them, I know just the perfect shoes to match.” Lafayette sighed, a dream-like, pleased sound. Aaron had the distinct feeling that the next week would not be very fun for him.

This was why Aaron didn't do bets.

#fic #burrlaf #kind of #its mostly a friend thing but there are probably undertones to be had if u want #insofar as they think each other is very pretty but aren't in a relationship

[anavoliselenu]

Heart of stone chapter 8

I climbed into the black leather driver’s seat of my Tesla Model S with a satisfied grin on my face. I had finally made some headway with Selena.

 Regardless of whether or not she took the job that I was readily willing to give her, there would be no changing what happened that day in my conference room. And there would be no going back after our conversation in the coffee shop.

 She would be difficult for me, of that I was sure. Her quick wit and firecracker temper made me want to put her over my knee.

 But I have her attention now.

 I was able to see that she had been intrigued by the job proposition, especially after I impulsively sweetened the pot with a potential partnership. And my cock instantly went hard when I saw the flash of desire in her eyes after I told her that I wanted her naked. I knew that I had gotten to her.

 However, she had a suspicious nature about her, and she was extremely distrusting. That alone could pose a serious problem. I knew that I would have to be careful and I wasn’t naïve to the risks I was taking with her. Selena was a wild card. One wrong move, and this could all blow up in my face. She was the antithesis to every rule that I had in the book. But I found her to be irresistible nonetheless, and I would do whatever I had to do to possess her. If that meant a little extra effort on my part in order to tame her, then so be it.

 Having cleared my schedule for the remainder of the day, I shifted lanes in the city traffic and headed towards the interstate. Using the touchscreen of the car, I activated the phone system to get Hale on the line. He picked up after the first ring.

 “Hale, I’m leaving the city for a few hours. There’s a parcel of land in Westchester that I’m going to look at.”

 “Do you want me to meet you there?”

 “No, that’s not necessary. Did you get those papers to Charlie?” I asked.

 “All set, boss.”

 “And he signed them?”

 “Of course he did. He would have been stupid not to. You had him. It was either he takes the lump sum once and for all, or you’d hit him with an extortion charge. Stephen was brilliant with the wording of that contract. Your sister can rest easy now.”

 “It fucking killed me to give that worm another cent. I just hope you’re right,” I said warily. “Charlie Andrews isn’t the brightest bulb, but we shouldn’t underestimate him.”

 “I don’t think he’d risk doing any time in jail,” Hale predicted.

 “You don’t know him like I do. The only reason why he wouldn’t want to end up behind bars is because that would mean time away from his dice. Keep an eye on him for a while, will you?”

 “Sure thing. I’m headed to Stephen’s office now to drop off the signed document.”

 “Good. After you have that all squared away, I’ll need you to pick up Selena Cole at her place at six. I have a meeting with her.”

 “A meeting,” he repeated. I could hear the humor in his voice and I frowned.

 I had seen the knowing look on Hale’s face in the rearview mirror when I told him to research Selena the other day, and I could only imagine what he was thinking when I had asked him to track her location. I hated that I felt like I had to explain myself – which of course I didn’t. His contracted salary and job description did not include keen observations of my personal life.

 “Don’t start with me, Hale. I don’t pay you to speculate. Just be there. I’ll text you the address of where I want you to take her.”

 “Aye-aye, Captain.”

 Smart-ass.

 I ended the call and turned onto the ramp for the I-495. After opening the car’s glass panoramic roof, I hit the accelerator. Gripping the wheel, I embraced the blistering force of the car, and left the city madness behind.

     ****

     On the subway ride home from La Biga, I struggled to wrap my head around Justin’s job offer. The opportunity was incredible to say the least. Different advertising schemes turned in my mind. The idea of finally putting my degree to use was exciting, and I had found myself wondering about the sort of businesses and products that he would want me to market.

 And a possible partnership? This is the chance that I’ve been waiting for. I’d be a fool to turn it down.

 But then again, there were some major strings attached to his offer, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about them.

 The feminist side of me wanted to scream. He offered me a job, only to follow it up with a not-so-appropriate proposition.

 Who does he think he is? This is one stained blue dress short of a sexual harassment suit – if I had half a brain, I’d be Googling Kenneth Starr’s case notes right now!

 Yet, there was another part of me that wanted him badly, totally negating the whole women’s rights issue. I wanted to be harassed by Justin Stone, despite all of his irritating qualities. I was flattered that this mega-rich, ultra sexy, walking god wanted me. It was a thrilling, heady feeling that I just wanted to savor.

 But I was very afraid of him, too.

 I was terrified of getting sucked back into a world that I had shunned for so long. I was still haunted by my past with Trevor. And although I had worked tirelessly to rebuild my independence and self-respect, I knew that I had allowed a man to break me once before. I could not let it happen to me again, or I’d risk jeopardizing everything that I worked so hard to overcome.

 However, I felt there was something different about Justin Stone – somehow I knew that he would not be like Trevor. It was a feeling deep inside me, a yearning that I didn’t completely understand.

 Justin may be rich and powerful, but that wasn’t why I was drawn to him. He sparked an unfamiliar level of awareness in me. I wanted to give myself up to him from the moment I first laid eyes on him. These newfound feelings were very uncharacteristic for me, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

 I think for tonight, the only thing I can do is be careful, play it cool, and let him take the lead.

 When I finally reached my apartment, I was grateful to find that Allyson wasn’t home. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to my friend; I just needed to sort out a few things for myself before facing her. I wanted a little time alone to mentally prepare myself for anything Justin threw my way.

 The man is full of surprises, but at least I know his true intentions now.

 I went into my bedroom, turned on the radio, and looked for something to wear to dinner tonight. I wasn’t sure where we were going and I didn’t know how to dress.

 Casual? Semi-casual?

 I wished that Justin had been a little more specific when he issued his commands.

 I eyed up a red faux leather-trimmed skirt. The skirt was flattering on me with its subtle flirty pleats. If I wore it with my white cashmere sweater and some strappy heals, I could make the outfit look casual or dressy depending on the environment. I pulled the sweater and skirt out of the closet and laid them flat on the bed to see how they would look together.

 Yep, this will work perfectly.

 Singing along with Lana Del Ray, I turned up the volume on the radio before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.

 I contemplated whether or not I should shave my legs. I knew what Allyson would say.

 If I shave, I’m planning on sex.

 I considered the little skirt that I was planning to wear.

 I would have to shave if I am going to wear that.

 With that rationale in mind, I began to work a foamy lather over my legs. But as I ran the razor over my knee, Justin’s words played over and over again in my head.

 Preferably naked.

 I felt a little twist in my gut. He definitely wanted me – it was no longer just something that my imagination had drummed up. I wasn’t just shaving because I was going to wear a skirt. My legs were fine for appearance purposes, but they certainly weren’t baby smooth.

 Who am I kidding? I’m shaving just in case.

 My heart skipped a beat as trepidation enveloped me. If confronted with sex, I wasn’t sure if I could physically go through with it. Knowing full well that the decision to have sex was ultimately up to me, I stopped mid-shave and tried not to worry about what was to come.

 I’m putting the cart before the horse. I need to just relax.

 I quickly finished in the shower and got dressed. Then I began the laboring process of taming my hair. I thought about just throwing it up in a clip, but then I remembered Justin saying that my hair was too restricted on the day of my interview. Little alarm bells went off, heightening my already skittish nerves.

 Trevor told me how to wear my hair.

 “Stop it, Cole!” I exclaimed out loud to my reflection in the mirror. Comparing the two men would get me nowhere, and I fought to shake off my unease.

 Justin didn’t tell me how to style my hair. He only expressed his preference.

 I left my hair down and ignored the badgering warnings that were running rampant through my mind.

 As I was applying the finishing touches to my makeup, I heard a commotion in the kitchen. Tossing my lipstick in my purse, I went out to see what it was. I walked into the kitchen and saw grocery bags piled high on the island. Allyson was pulling a bunch of pots and pans from the cabinet. She had a guy with her, too. They were laughing over something and Allyson lightly swatted her guest on the shoulder.

 Perfect – she’ll be too distracted to ask me a lot of questions.

 “Hey, you!” she said when she saw me. “I hope you’re hungry. Jeremy is making Chinese.”

 This must be Allyson’s infamous photographer…

 I gave him a quick once over. He appeared to be just shy of six feet and had an athletic build. His copper hair was streaked from the sun and his face was tan. He looked like he spent a lot of time outdoors.

 “I don’t want to intrude on the two of you, but thanks anyways. Besides, I already have dinner plans for tonight. So you’re Jeremy,” I greeted in a rush, and reached across the island to shake his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Kyrs.”

 “Hi, Selena. I’ve heard –,” Jeremy started.

 “You have dinner plans?” Allyson questioned in surprise, interrupting our introductions.

 Damn!

 Nothing slid by her.

 “Yeah. Is that okay with you?”

 “Of course it’s okay, but who are you going out with?” she pressed suspiciously, eying up my attire for the first time.

 Pushy, pushy.

 “I ran into Justin Stone this afternoon at Café La Biga. He asked me to join him for dinner tonight. It’s no big deal, really. We are just going to discuss the job thing again.”

 I deliberately left out the part about his other proposition.

 “You’re joking, right?” Her face creased into a frown. “I thought you said that Stone was an asshole.”

 “He is, but I’m not doing myself any good by staying angry. I need a job so I’m willing to hear him out,” I replied awkwardly. I tried to act like the dinner was no big deal, but I was failing miserably. I could feel the heat creeping into my cheeks. There was no fooling Allyson.

 “What about that chic? You know, the one with the black hair,” she reminded me subtly, attempting to disguise her obvious concern by needlessly rearranging the groceries on the counter.

 “Oh, that was just his sister,” I said with a dismissive wave. Allyson stopped her pointless organization and narrowed her eyes doubtfully at me.

 Oh, Ally! Don’t make me explain it in front of your boyfriend!

 I threw her a warning look, slightly shaking my head back and forth, just hoping that she’d leave it alone for now. Before she could remark, Jeremy chimed into the conversation, effectively saving me from one hell of a complicated explanation.

 “Wait a minute – you’re going out with the Justin Stone? As in ‘Stone Arena’ Justin Stone?” He was looking back and forth between Allyson and me with a look of total disbelief on his face.

 “What’s Stone Arena?” Allyson asked, looking to me. I shrugged and looked to Jeremy, waiting for him to elaborate.

 Jeremy threw his hands up in exasperation.

 “Stone Arena is only the first Major League Soccer complex to hit New York!” He muttered something about women and sports, but I didn’t quite catch it. “Stone’s been pushing for this for years. It was finally just approved and he earned the naming rights.”

 Was everything in this city named after him?

 “Yep, sounds like the same Justin,” I said. Thankful that Jeremy had distracted Allyson from her questioning, I walked towards the front door, hoping that I could just slip out. “I don’t really know much about soccer. However, I do know that my ride is probably here.”

 “Wait! Where are you going to eat? And are you taking a cab?” Allyson asked, quickly remembering her interrogation.

 “I don’t know where we’re going, mom. He didn’t tell me,” I said sarcastically, pausing by the door. “And, no – I’m not taking a cab. Justin sent a car for me.”

 “A car? Now that’s impressive,” she said, her voice awestricken, completely ignoring the derisive comment that I threw at her. “Promise me that we’ll talk later? I want a full report.”

 “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. You’ll get the specifics. Oh, and I shouldn’t be out too late,” I added and raised an eyebrow at Allyson to make sure she caught the silent meaning behind my words. Telling her that I would be home early was code from our college days – I didn’t want to come home to find her bare-assed on the couch with Jeremy.

 “Gotcha,” she said with a knowing wink. “We’re probably going to catch a movie later, so I might not be here when you get back.”

 “No problem. You guys have a good night.”

 “You too. Have fun and be careful,” she warned, worry lines spreading over her face.

 “I always am. Bye!” I yelled over my shoulder and closed the door behind me.

When I exited my apartment complex, Justin’s driver stood waiting for me outside of a black Porsche Cayenne. I approached him and I attempted to introduce myself, but he just gave me a curt nod as a way of greeting and motioned for me to get inside the awaiting car.

 He was sort of intimidating in an ex-military kind of way, and didn’t strike me as much of a talker. He wore a fancy earpiece on his ear that reminded me of the Secret Service and I was afraid to even talk, much less ask him where we were going.

 So instead, I sat in silence while we weaved in and out of the New York City traffic, having no idea where he was taking me.

 When we arrived at our destination, the driver still didn’t speak, but merely opened the door of the car for me. I stepped out onto the pavement and he walked me towards the entrance of a no-named building. I might have been worried about the nondescript place, but I saw lights on in the windows and a polished bar that gleamed under muted lighting. For some reason, I found these little signs of life comforting.

 The front door of the building opened suddenly, and a stocky man with curly dark hair stepped out.

 “Ah, finally! You are here! Come in, come in please!” the man said with a slight Italian accent. His hands were waving in the air, motioning for me to get inside. His gestures seemed panicked almost, yet he wore a friendly smile on his handsome face. I could only raise my eyebrows in surprise at his overexcited presence. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of him.

 I looked behind me, but the silent driver had disappeared back inside the SUV, leaving me little choice but to follow the animated Italian through the front doors.

 “My name is Matteo Donati. I will be serving you tonight,” he called over his shoulder, walking briskly ahead of me. He was moving quickly and I struggled to keep up with him, barely managing to stay vertical in my strappy little four-inch heels. I was already beginning to regret the risk that I took by wearing them.

 “Hi, Matteo. I’m Selena– .”

 “Hurry along. Mr. Stone is waiting,” he said, completely cutting me off.

 Heaven forbid we keep Stone waiting.

 I followed the practically running Matteo through the vacant restaurant, as if I was late for some monumental event. I truly felt like Alice must have on her adventure into Wonderland, except I was chasing an Italian rather than a white rabbit in to an unfamiliar place.

 The restaurant was eerily quiet, and obviously not opened for business. I found myself wishing that Justin’s driver were still here. Ironically, I began to feel nervous over the absence of the brooding man. It was almost like he was my protection in this deserted place. Chairs were flipped up on the tables and there wasn’t a soul in sight. The lighting from the pendant fixtures was dim, revealing half finished decorations and empty curtain rods. The shelves behind the bar looked like they had only been partially stocked. The only clue that I would be eating dinner here came from the delicious smell that wafted out of the kitchen, a mouth-watering aroma of garlic and sage.

 Matteo paused in an open doorway off of the main dining area, giving me a moment to catch up to him. When I reached his side, he took hold of my elbow and escorted me into an intimately furnished room with soft guitar music playing overhead. At first glance, the room appeared to be set up for small banquets. But upon closer inspection, I realized that this wasn’t your normal run of the mill banquet room. The furnishings reeked exclusiveness, the setting more appropriate for high-ticketed private gatherings.

 Justin Stone sat alone at a candlelit table set for two. As I made my way towards him, I was suddenly overcome with anxious jitters and my palms began to sweat. I couldn’t fathom why I was suddenly so nervous.

 He’s just a man sitting at a table.

 But then again, Justin wasn’t just anything.

 He stood and pulled a chair out for me. I gave him a quick once over. He was killer as usual, in khaki pants and a charcoal gray poplin button down.

 “Good evening, Selena.”

 “Mr. Stone,” I greeted politely, discretely wiping my damp palms on my skirt.

 I tried to sit down gracefully and make myself comfortable in the offered chair, but it was hard to feel relaxed under his watchful eyes.

 “I take it that you’ve met Matteo already,” Justin assumed, reclaiming his seat across from me.

 “Yes. He was at the door when I arrived,” I said and gave Matteo a nod of thanks.

 “Selena,” Matteo said and bowed before me, taking me by surprise. He took hold of my hand, placed a feathery kiss on the backside of it, and murmured something in what I recognized as Italian. Then he looked back up at Justin, his expression coy, and said, “I think we have finally found a name for my place!”

 Justin smirked at him and shook his head back and forth.

 “It appears that you have yourself a fan club, Selena,” Justin said dryly.

 Matteo let out a boisterous laugh and released my hand.

 “No worries, no worries! It was only an observation,” he assured. “Now, mi scusi. I must go see to your antipasti,” Matteo declared with a loud clap of his hands and hurried from the room.

 I couldn’t help but laugh at his overly flamboyant performance, despite the fact that I was totally confused by their interaction.

 “What did he say?” I asked Justin, curious about what Matteo had said in his native tongue that had Justin looking so thoroughly annoyed.

 “That you are a beautiful lady,” he answered, his eyes softening as he regarded me. “You really are very beautiful, Selena.”

 His voice was tender, all of the irritation with Matteo diminished.

 I wasn’t so sure that ‘beautiful’ was a word I would use to describe myself, and I felt a red glow begin to blossom on my cheeks.

 “I love that you blush so easily. It’s refreshing.”

 I’m glad you’re into the whole red in the face thing – I despise it!

 Rather than give a voice to my embarrassment, I chose to cast my gaze down towards my lap and focus my attention on the soft melody that was playing overhead. I used the guitar’s wide acoustical range as a distraction from my reddened face. I found the music to be calming, yet seductive at the same time.

 I peered at Justin through lowered lashes only to find that he was still watching me. His stare was doing nothing to cool the mortifying flames that refused to leave my cheeks.

 “This music is lovely,” I finally said, attempting to break his unnerving observation.

 “I thought it might appeal to you. It’s a guitar compellation by Tadeusz Machalski.”

 “I never heard of him.”

 “No, I don’t imagine you would have. I stumbled upon him playing in the streets of Venice a few years back. I listened to him play for hours before I finally bought one of his CD’s.”

 “Venice, Italy?”

 “The one and only,” he confirmed with a smile.

 “Wow, I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” I said enviously.

 “Maybe I’ll take you one day.”

 He said it casually, while assessing me with those irresistible sapphire blues. His ability to constantly take me by surprise was astounding and I struggled not to look like a gaping fish while I digested his words.

 Vacationing in Italy with Justin Stone?

 I hated to admit it, but the idea sounded appealing.

 Don’t even go there. Bad idea.

 “What is this restaurant?” I asked, choosing not to explore that avenue of conversation. “I didn’t see a name outside.”

 “That’s because it doesn’t have one yet. Although, it seems like Matteo might have an idea now,” he said dryly, a frown returning to his face.

 “This is Matteo’s restaurant? I thought that this might be your place,” I mused.

 “Hell, no!” he exclaimed, and let out a loud genuine laugh.

 It was a full, throaty sound that was pleasant to my ears. It made him seem more human, and not so much like the heavenly Adonis that he normally portrayed. His laughter was contagious and I found myself smiling.

 And for the first time since my arrival, I relaxed a bit.

 “Why do you say it like that? Why not own a restaurant?”

 He seems to have a hand in just about everything else in this city.

 “Restaurants aren’t my thing. Way too much stress. Like I said before, real estate is what I do. I just own this building. Matteo is the crazy one. If he wants to tackle the food business, more power to him. He’s been after me to come down to try some of his dishes before the grand opening,” he told me, reaching for a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. “I thought this would be the perfect time to take him up on his offer. Plus, I wanted a bit of privacy tonight so that we could talk freely during our meeting.”

 A meeting, huh? Okay. I’ll play along.

 I studied him carefully as he poured the deep red into two bordeaux glasses. I tried to get a read on what he was thinking, but as usual, his expression was guarded and I got nothing. I accepted the glass that he held out for me.

 “We couldn’t talk freely in a restaurant full of people?” I asked, taking a slow sip of the wine. I typically preferred white wine, but the red was surprisingly good and I savored the bite of the bold flavor on my tongue.

 “Unfortunately, no – at least not without any interruption. I try to keep a low profile, but restaurants are tough. I have expensive tastes and influential people tend to frequent the restaurants that I like.” He paused and frowned, his brow furrowing in aggravation. “Lately, it’s been a bombardment of parasites from Wall Street trying to convince me to go public. The lack of privacy is rather annoying.”

 While his words may have seemed slightly arrogant, his tone was bitter and resentful. I was intrigued and wanted to question him further, but Matteo arrived with our appetizers, interrupting the conversation.

 “Ah, here we are!” Matteo said as he placed two plates in the center of the table. “Insalata Caprese and Antipasto Italiano.” Using a serving fork, he began to place portions of the appetizers onto side dishes for both Justin and I.

 “This looks great. Thanks, Matt,” Justin said, taking a bite of smoked prosciutto. “Mmm. It tastes great, too.”

 I went for the Caprese Salad first, fresh mozzarella being a weakness of mine. The cheese practically melted in my mouth and the tomato was bursting with flavor. I nodded my head in approval.

 “Very good!” Matteo exclaimed, obviously pleased that his guests of honor were enjoying the first course. “Buon appetito,” he said with a slight bow and left us to enjoy the array of cold cuts and cheeses.

 “I don’t know much about the stock market, but wouldn’t you make more money if you went public with your company?” I asked curiously, continuing the conversation where we left off as I enjoyed a second bite of the seasoned cheese.

 “Money doesn’t matter. I’d rather be my own boss. If I offered stock to the general public, then I would have too many people to answer to. And as you pointed out earlier this afternoon, answering to others is not something that I would do well. I prefer to be my own boss.”

 “It must really suck to be a millionaire,” I sarcastically commented.

 “Billionaire, Selena,” he corrected matter-of-factly. I raised my eyebrows, slightly aghast by his pompous statement.

 “If you’re trying to impress me, it’s not working. Millions, billions – it makes no difference to me once you hit six zeros,” I said sardonically.

 “I’m not trying to impress you with money. I’m just stating a fact,” he said without a hint of conceit. “Those additional zeros, as you put it, make a big difference in the social circles of New York. It means that keeping my personal affairs private is a little more difficult, and that’s something I’m not sure you’re ready to handle.”

 Maybe I was intimidated over his billions. Or perhaps it was the way he spoke so matter-of-factly. Whatever the reason, I found myself feeling extremely bothered by this conversation all of a sudden and I pursed my lips in annoyance.

 “Why would I need to concern myself with your privacy?”

 “We’ll talk about that later,” he said, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. “I want you tell me about yourself first.”

 “I’m sure my background check told you everything you need to know already,” I said fractiously.

 “Selena, the background check that I had done on you was very limited. It doesn’t tell me personal aspects of your life.”

 The seconds ticked by as I scrutinized him, trying to find any sign of a hidden agenda. His face revealed nothing but patience and genuine interest. He didn’t push me, but instead just ate his antipasti quietly while he waited for me to speak.

 I had to admit to myself, I was actually enjoying this very normal back and forth chitchat that we had going on. It was a nice change from all of our previous conversations. I supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to let go of a few minor irritations and indulge in his curiosities a little bit.

 “Alright. What do you want to know?” I finally gave in.

 “Why don’t you start with where you grew up?”

 Interesting question.

 I wasn’t sure what I expected him to ask, but it certainly wasn’t that.

 “I was raised in Albany – the Clifton Park area to be exact, but nobody ever knows where that is. I lived there with my mother and stepfather until moving to New York with Allyson to attend college.”

 “Who’s Allyson?”

 “Allyson Ramsey, my roommate,” I told him. “My mom didn’t want me to move here, but I fought her tooth and nail. She wanted me to go to school someplace in Albany.”

 “What’s wrong with New York?” he prodded.

 “Oh, lots of things. Safety, the cost of tuition, New York is expensive – you name it and she made it an argument. But I don’t think any of those things were the real reasons behind her not wanting me to move here. To be honest, I don’t think she wanted to cut the strings,” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m an only child and I was her whole world for a long time. But that was years ago and what I think is irrelevant, because she would never admit it. My mother has a way of blocking out things that she doesn’t want to remember.”

 “Mothers can certainly be that way,” he agreed. I sensed a level of irony in his tone, and I wondered what his story was.

 “What about your parents?” I asked, hoping to gain a bit of insight.

 “They’re dead,” he responded flatly.

 “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

 “Don’t be. I’m not.”

 His lack of emotion was startling and I was taken aback. My apology for his deceased parents was an automatic reaction, one that anyone would have. But his expression was cold. Emotionless. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, but it was quickly masked and I could only stare in wonder at his complete detachment.

 Well, this is awkward. He’s not sorry that his mother and father are dead! Who says things like that?

 Matteo arrived with our dinner, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the room.

 “Time for the main course. For you my dear, Baked Eggplant Parmigiana, one of my specialties,” Matteo bragged, setting a steaming plate before me and turning to Justin. “And for you my friend, Stuffed Red Pepper. Delizioso!”

 “I’m sure both will be fantastic, Matt. Thanks,” Justin said somewhat coolly.

 Matteo eyed him questioningly, but didn’t comment on Justin’s tone. Instead, he simply nodded and left us alone to enjoy our food. Once he was out of the room, the uneasiness between Justin and I returned.

 I was itching to know more about his dead parents, but I didn’t know what I could say without sounding like I was prying. His blunt statement was perplexing. So rather than risk putting my foot in my mouth, I just ate my food and said nothing. I was probably better off not knowing the specifics anyway.

 It’s not my business. Curiosity killed the cat. More detail means an increased risk of attachment. Time to change the subject.

 I sat there pondering over what else we could talk about. The atmosphere had become so uncomfortable after his revelation, that I wasn’t sure where to begin. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I actually knew Justin. The only thing I had to go on were a few tidbits that I read on the internet. He was a mystery, and I grappled with finding a safe topic of discussion.

 I could bring up the reason I’m actually here. We haven’t talked about that yet.

 My brow furrowed in concentration.

 So why am I here?

 He had said in the coffee shop that he wanted me naked, yet he had been nothing but a polite gentleman since my arrival. There were no sexual insinuations, no coy remarks. Nothing. Surprisingly, I found myself disappointed and frustrated by his mannerly attitude. He wasn’t playing his usual part.

 “You’ve become very quiet, Selena,” Justin commented after a long while. I glanced up at him to find that he was watching me curiously. “I can tell that you’re thinking something. I can almost see the wheels spinning in your head.”

 It’s time to cut to the chase.

 I put my fork down next to my plate and leveled my eyes to his.

 “Look, I’m fairly certain that you don’t want to talk about where I grew up or about your parents that – .”

 “The subject of my parents is off limits. Never bring them up again,” he said frostily, stopping me midsentence.

 Personal details are private. Got it.

 “Okay, I can respect that. Besides, it’s probably better if we stopped playing show-and-tell. I want to get to the bottom of this supposed meeting, Justin,” I said, deliberately dropping the formalities for the first time.

 “You can call me Justin.”

 “But that’s not your name,” I jokingly threw back in his face in an attempt to lighten the sudden somber mood. My efforts seemed to work because he afforded me a sexy lopsided grin.

 “Touché,” he said with a wink, and reached over to pour us both more wine.

 “Thank you,” I accepted graciously. Making a mental note to slow down, I didn’t take a sip of the refilled glass right away. A plan was starting to formulate in my head and I needed my wits about me if I was going to play this right.

 “I think I was pretty clear this afternoon at the café, Selena,” he said in response to my question.

 It wasn’t really an answer at all, and I began to understand his polite behavior. I had a nagging suspicion that he was trying to feel me out.

 Is he leaving it up to me to make the first move?

 If that were truly the case, then it was very atypical for Justin. He had told me himself – he likes to be in control. Putting the ball in my court was obviously not what he was doing.

 I eyed him warily, trying to decide if I was ready to push our so-called relationship to the next level. He had already laid out his employment expectations. That part was perfectly clear. It was his other proposal that I needed to be careful of. Taking it slow was an absolute must, but I didn’t know if I had the gumption to take the plunge back into the world of dating.

 If I take charge from the beginning, then maybe I can control the pace. I can do that. How hard can it be?

 Throwing all caution to the wind, I swallowed a huge gulp of wine, took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

 “Yes, you were very explicit as I recall. I b-believe you said something about…um…wanting me naked,” I faltered.

 Epic fail. Could I have said that any more awkwardly? God, I suck at this.

 “Is that going to be a problem for you?” he asked offhandedly.

 Is it a problem?

 His mouth quirked up in an impish smile and he looked like he was enjoying some sort of wicked thought.

 “Well, um…” I started, pursing my lips in a frown trying to will away the flush the crept up my neck and threatened to enflame my cheeks. “What happens if I say that it is? Would I still get the job at Turning Stone?”

 His eyes turned dark as I awaited his response. I held my breath in anticipation.

 “Of course you would. I believe that you are more than qualified to handle the position. It would just be without the fringe benefits,” he added shamelessly. “However, I’m warning you now – I always get what I want. I will fuck you eventually, Selena.”

 He didn’t bother to disguise the determined glitter of lust in his eyes. I let out my breath in a quiet hiss.

 Now there’s the Justin that I’ve grown accustomed to.

 His direct approach was crude and alluring all at the same time, leaving me squirming in my seat – and not because I was offended, but because it was so hot. An ache began to form between my thighs and the devil on my shoulder started doing fist pumps in the air.

 Justin allowed his gaze to drift lazily over me, causing excited butterflies to dance in my belly. I was thrilled that he was back to his normal, salacious self. But even so, I knew that I still had to be cautious. He was dangerous and I was like a moth to a flame. I had to gradually ease into this or risk being burned.

 “Mixing business with pleasure is risky. What happens if things don’t work out with us personally?” I asked. “I don’t want to end up jobless and back to square one.”

 “We’re both adults, Selena. And as long as we keep it casual, I don’t think we’ll have an issue with managing our business dealings.”

 “Well, I don’t do casual sex if that’s what you’re after. I think that two people should at least date a few times before jumping into bed,” I replied evenly, proud that I was able to keep the tremor out of my voice despite my racing heart.

 “That’s very unfortunate,” he said, shaking his head back and forth.

 “Why is that?”

 “I don’t date, Selena. It tends to complicate things that are much better off kept simple.”

 Bullshit.

 “Then explain the hundreds of red heads that you’re constantly being photographed with,” I spat out, just a little bit too harshly. It was a gut reaction, a defensive move based on instinct, and I fought the urge to slap a hand over my mouth. I heard the level of contempt in my voice and regretted it almost immediately.

 This was not going the way that I had planned, even if I was just winging it. I was the one to start this line of conversation and being a bitch every time he said something that I didn’t like would get me nowhere.

 “I must say that your own background check on me wasn’t very accurate,” he pointed out. His mouth twitched, like he was trying to hold back a smile.

 “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a slew of connected people on my payroll. I had to make do with my trusty friend Google,” I scoffed, although I was thoroughly embarrassed that my slip up had inadvertently revealed that I had researched him.

 “You shouldn’t believe all the filth that can be found online,” he said, showing a hint of disgust beneath his calm demeanor. There was a cool gleam in his eyes and his jaw tightened. “The things you’ve seen or heard about me are based on pure speculation. I’m a wealthy man and I am expected to attend numerous functions, many of which require a date. I’m not sure if the two red heads you saw pictures of could classify as hundreds, but either way, they were mere acquaintances.”

 “So you didn’t sleep with either of them?” I questioned doubtfully, not that it should matter one little iota. After all, I had already committed myself to no personal details. But those curvy red heads were definitely more than tempting with their come-hither smiles and I felt compelled to know the answer nonetheless.

 “The answer to that is completely irrelevant, but I’ll indulge in your curiosities. No, I did not fuck either woman,” he openly admitted. His change of verbiage did little to help the trust factor. He must have sensed my disbelief because he let out a long sigh, and then adapted a more placating tone. “You can think what you want, but I have very little in common with those women. Their needs are very different from mine. I’m a man with a variety of sexual interests, Selena. Knowing that about myself, I deliberately stay away from women that don’t share my desires and adhere to the rules that I’ve set for myself. There are no false pretenses that way.”

 Rules?

 I wasn’t that far removed from the dating scene. He made his sexual exploitations sound like business arrangements.

 “You know what? Forget I even asked. You make it all sound so damned complicated,” I muttered, shaking my head.

 “It’s not complicated at all – at least until I met you. For some odd reason, I find myself breaking many of my rules when it comes to you.”

 “Such as?”

 “Well, take tonight for example. I just told you that I don’t do the dating thing, yet here we are. This is, in many ways, like a date – and well out of the norm for me.”

 “Is that why you keep referring to tonight as meeting? Dating isn’t in your rule book?” I asked tauntingly, rolling my eyes at him. “I mean, really. Even if you only go out with someone once, you have to have some sort of relevant conversation before jumping into bed. That’s what defines a date. You can’t just walk up to a girl and say ‘hey baby, let’s fuck’. It doesn’t work like that.”

 “Don’t be crude, Selena.”

 “My, my. Aren’t you the pot calling the kettle black?”

 The right corner of his mouth twitched again, showing me that he was fighting back a smile. However, I wasn’t finding this conversation even remotely humorous. It was frustrating.

 Scraping the last bit of food around on my plate, I processed everything that he had told me over dinner. The plan that I had begun to construct in my head was turning into a complete flop. This was never going to work. He had made so many mysterious implications tonight – rules, privacy, undefined sexual preferences. Every time I thought he was being forthright, he would say something that would throw me for a loop.

 Am I really that naïve? What is he trying to tell me?

 One thing was certain – if I wanted to explore this thing between us, whatever it might be, there would be no testing the waters first. But before I dived in head first, I needed some straight answers from him.

 “Look, Justin. I’m not entirely sure why I decided to meet you tonight. The longer I sit here, the more I’m convinced that this is all a bad idea. So please, give it to me straight. What exactly do you want? And no more guessing games or else I walk,” I impatiently asserted.

 His head snapped back and he sharply sucked in a breath. He almost looked as if I had offended him in some way. At that particular point, I didn’t care.

 “Selena, I’m disappointed at the fact that you think I’m playing games. I thought I was being honest. A little cautious maybe, but honest.” He cocked his head to one side, waiting for me to respond.

 “What do you expect me to think?” I lashed out, shaking my head in frustration. “You asked me here to discuss a job, but we have yet to do so. You want me naked, yet you don’t date. You like to be in control and you have rules. You have made reference to having a variety of sexual interests – whatever the hell that means. To be perfectly honest, you’re leading me to believe that you’re some sort of freak in the sheets!”

 His mouth pressed into a hard line and he looked as if he were trying to decide on his choice of words. He leaned forward in his chair and his sapphire blues narrowed. They held a fiendish glimmer, sharp with an animal-like hunger that made me suddenly afraid.

 Goosebumps traveled up my spine as I waited for him to speak again. When he finally spoke, his tone was direct. No-nonsense. Upfront.

 “I’m not a freak. I’m a Dominant.”

[norihisahyuga-archived]

An Arrangement (6/26)

Matsuoka Masahiro/Nagase Tomoya Tokio 2100~ words. NSFW.

Masahiro Matsuoka is an incubus who just wants a casual partner, too tired to hunt down his meals individually and leery of those who form attachments too easily. Tomoya Nagase laughs at the idea of attachment; everyone has always sent him away when they are done with him, so he has no reason to try anymore. Their situations suit each other perfectly. Unfortunately, they also suit each other perfectly, and that was something neither of them expected.

Shige’s visit is a pleasant break in the routine the two of them have developed, though it makes Tomo miss Tatsu with a fierce ache he hasn’t felt in a long time. The two of them have not been face to face in what feels like ages even though it’s just been over a year now; keeping up with each other is difficult, if not wholly impossible with the different lives they lead. He makes a mental note to find a way to contact Tatsu— they both have some mutual friends who might be able to help them connect once again— but otherwise, his life with Mabo goes about as planned.

Tomo finds things to do around the house more often than not when Mabo has to leave. He was kept in the house by his former masters, who wanted him here for their pleasure and little else, and though Mabo has said nothing of the kind to him, old habits are hard to break. At least Mabo’s house is large and lavish and when Mabo returns early in the afternoon from wherever he’s gone this time, Tomo has found his way up to Mabo’s office and the bookshelves within.

The room smells less like Mabo than the rest of the house, Tomo has noticed. There is no dust anywhere, of course, because Mabo keeps his house very clean and Tomo would have long since noticed if dust abounded here. He has a sensitive nose, after all, and dust more than just about anything else makes him sneeze. The leather chair behind the wide mahogany desk smells like Mabo, but more faintly than the rest of the furniture in the house despite the fact there is clear wearing in the fabric. He wonders when Mabo comes in here, if he’s asleep when Mabo decides to work, and he does wonder what Mabo does when he’s in here. None of this is his business, though. When Mabo finds himself, a surprised expression etched onto his face, Tomo has taken up residence on the chaise longue by the window, a book about marine life on his lap.

As per usual, Mabo is still in the clothes he left in, having decided to find Tomo in lieu of changing into something more comfortable. The white button-up is open at the front, a whisper of a hickey visible on the right side; Tomo tends to mark what belongs to him more often than not, and until Mabo sends him away, Mabo belongs to him. The sleeves are rolled up, showing off his forearms, and the simple charcoal pants make a perfect frame for his legs. Tomo doesn’t have to bother asking if Mabo has a personal tailor to alter his clothing for him.

“What are you doing up here?” Mabo asks as he walks into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes the leather chair, spinning it around until he’s facing Tomo, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I don’t think I’ve found you up here yet.”

Tomo shrugs, marking his place in the book. “I like to explore. It’s a big house. Not even a week has been long enough to give me time to go through all the rooms.”

“Well, you’re welcome to explore to your heart’s content. And you can read anything on the shelves.” Mabo gestures around him, then cocks a thumb over his shoulder. “If you’ll please just refrain from touching my laptop, that’d be great. I have it password protected, and it’s not exactly a common enough password for most people to be able to crack it, but I’ve set things up on it in a very careful way and I don’t want to have to do it all over again.”

“I’m not going to touch your laptop, I promise,” Tomo reassures him, stretching out as he does.

And he doesn’t miss the dark flash in Mabo’s eyes. “Thank you. Now, I wanted to ask you about something. A friend of mine is going to be throwing a party in a few days.”

Tomo cocks his head at the mention of a party. He’s been to parties before, usually not with one of his masters but with his friends and the people he knows and trusts around the city. Getting invited is easy; most people like him and the energy he carries with him, and he does well with most people as long as he’s able to keep himself together long enough. Mabo hasn’t said anything about parties, and he’d seemed almost out of place at the bar, so Tomo is curious to see what he’s like in that kind of setting. Probably just as calm and in control as he usually is.

Usually, he thinks, because Mabo’s face yesterday when he had finally dragged himself out of bed to see if Shige had arrived suggested he was not even close to being in control of himself. It was different to be sure, and Tomo is still not sure what to make of the experience.

It makes him think back to when Mabo had first fucked him, when he had been desperate to be touched and Mabo instantly softened to touch him, to pull him closer, to comfort him. It’s the most Mabo has ever really let his guard down, and though Tomo has no right to ask him to do so— has no real right to want him to relax himself around him like that— he’s still glad he’s been able to see it. A few peeks inside of whoever Mabo is. It’s been an interesting experience.

“Who’s throwing the party?” he asks, swinging his legs off of the longue and leaning back a bit, mimicking Mabo’s pose and throwing him a flirty little smile.

Mabo raises a brow at him but chooses not to comment. “A friend of mine, Yoshihiko Inohara.”

The name tugs at something in the back of Tomo’s mind, and he feels like he should have a face to put with that name, but he doesn’t. “That name sounds familiar,” he finally says. “What kind of party is it? Are we supposed to dress up nice or anything?”

“Inocchi is an angel,” Mabo says, and Tomo pauses. The one he spoke about yesterday? “It’s just a formal party. He’s celebrating his anniversary with his mate and would like us to come.”

That surprises Tomo more than he can explain. Us. If this Inocchi knows that there is an us, then that means Mabo’s been talking to people about him. Not just people, but people he considers to be his friends. He can’t help but wonder what Mabo has been saying, if it’s been good things or bad things… Though if he has problems with Tomo, he sure hasn’t been showing them.

“I was wondering what you might want to wear to the party,” Mabo says after a moment. “I know you like to wear skirts and dresses.” The comment makes Tomo smile, crossing his legs beneath the light white skirt he’s wearing today. “Do you want to wear a dress? I’ll find a suit to match.”

Tomo doesn’t have to think of what his answer will be. He also doesn’t have to think about what dress in particular he plans on wearing. When he had been still just a kit, there had been children who teased him and bullied him for wearing his sister’s clothes in an attempt to find himself and, in the process, do what made him happiest. Grown up, with that hundreds of years behind him, he’d finally been able to be more of who he wanted to be, rather than who others wanted him to be.

“I do,” he says, pushing himself up and clapping his hands together, unable to help a mischievous little smile. “Come on, I’ll show it to you. I put it at the back of the closet to surprise you with.”

Mabo’s eyes flare darker again, and he giggles. “I can only imagine what you’re going to show me.”

The dress is at the back of the closet for a reason, and Tomo sweeps the rest of his clothing aside so he can retrieve it, careful as he lifts its hanger from the rod. The dress is his favorite one, a crimson that makes him think of nothing but sin. The skirt actually hits him at the knees, so it isn’t as provocative as some of the clothing he owns, but the back swoops down low, low enough that his tail is left free of the fabric and the very top of his ass is just covered.

He holds it out for Mabo’s inspection, watching his master run careful fingers over the soft crushed velvet, watches the surprise, and then the lust, bleed into his gaze when Tomo turns the dress around so he can see the back of it— or rather the lack of. He doesn’t even have to ask to know that Mabo is mentally trying to picture him in the dress.

“You have a lot of confidence to be comfortable in such revealing clothing,” Mabo murmurs.

“It takes time to develop that kind of confidence, but I’d like to think I have it now.” Tomo chuckles, returning the dress to its place in the closet. “But that’s what I’m going to wear. From the look you were giving me, I’m going to take a shot in the dark here. You must have liked it.”

When he turns around, Mabo is just suddenly in front of him, suddenly in his personal space, and Tomo’s breath hitches at having him this close. The fact his eyes have bled pitch black says it all. “I like the idea of you in the dress,” he says, fingers finding one of Tomo’s ears, smoothing the fur before giving it just the slightest tug. “I’m going to enjoy peeling you out of it just as much.”

The feeling of being prey cornered by a predator makes a sudden return from their first meeting; Tomo licks his lips, his heart beating a little faster, his pulse thudding harder in his throat. When Mabo leans close enough that his breath curls across Tomo’s lips, his skin breaks out in goosebumps. With Mabo this close and this infuriatingly sexy, Tomo weakens faster than he has with any of his other masters. He pushes himself into Mabo’s arms, capturing his lips in a kiss as Mabo stumbles backward and falls onto the bed. And now Tomo is the predator, the one who lands on top of him, unable to stop himself from smirking into the kiss.

He loses track of Mabo’s hands, of how fast they move, yanking his skirt up around his waist, shredding through the cotton of his panties— he’d bitch but they were cotton anyway— until there’s nothing but Mabo’s warm hands on his hotter skin. Of course, he has to allow time for Mabo to grab the lube off of the nightstand and then slick fingers slide so deep inside, two all the way to the last knuckle. He’s done this long enough and often enough that he’s not as tight as he used to be but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think his body is acclimating to Mabo faster and more completely than it ever has to anyone else before.

“Mabo, please,” he whines, rocking down on those fingers, so much and yet not enough.

“F-fuck, Tomo, I just—-” Tomo cuts him off with a demanding kiss and Mabo groans against his lips, hooking his fingers up so hard Tomo’s entire body jolts. “Open up for Master, kitten.”

He can barely hold on once Mabo is inside of him, his knees pressed tight to Mabo’s hips as he rides him, fingers gripping his button-up. He’s tight around Mabo, his ass a vice around Mabo’s dick so that every time his hips come down, every sensitive spot inside of him is rubbed almost raw. When he comes down a little harder, Mabo’s hips jerk up to meet his. Tomo sobs, head falling forward, fingers gripping Mabo’s shirt so tight he hears buttons pop.

“So fucking beautiful.” Mabo’s hand, still slick with lube, wraps tight around his cock, working Tomo with the same pace that Tomo milks his cock. “Come for me, Tomo. Now.”

When Tomo comes, his entire body goes taut, his thighs quivering, and he doesn’t hear what noise Mabo makes but feels the familiar liquid heat that tells him his master has come inside of him. The strength leaves his body in a rush then, and he flops forward, purring when Mabo catches him and pulls him close, rubbing his cheek against Mabo’s neck possessively.

“I can match that color of red,” Mabo murmurs into his hair, and Tomo laughs, too tired to do anything else but let his master cuddle him as close as he wants to.

#tokio #tok10fam #tomoya nagase #masahiro matsuoka #mabonaga #*f: mine #*f: an arrangement #*f: tokio #*f: tomo #*f: mabo #*f: mabonaga