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justwritedreams · 10 months ago

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Welcome To The Kingdom | Jeno

Chapter Ten: Little Games

Prince Jeno x Princess Reader, enemies to lovers au!, royalty au!

Word count: 4670 Genre: drama, fake relationship Author: maari Warnings: Reader being jealous, the never ending slow burn, both of them being a total menace lol Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! I was committed to posting this chapter yesterday as a gift for you but I needed to celebrate with my family too, so without further ado here we are starting the year 2024 with a new chapter. Summary: The little games started in the kingdom and are far from over.

<<<Previous | Masterlist |

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Taglist: @floweronacloud, @cookydream, @travelleratheart101, @ilvaussie, @tyongf-sunflower99, @mings-cafe, @n0hyuck, @waltermitty97, @jihoonismydad, @madaboutjunmyeon, @actually-vl , @neomooniez, @pvppyhao, @ikayyyyyy (can’t tag you honey 😞)

“Your Highnesses.”

Y/N turned back and smiled restrainedly at the royal advisor, Linda had worked at the castle for many years and the best parties were organized by her.

It was one of the reasons for the princess to be there, in the King's office, to talk about the details of the wedding.

She and Jeno. Talking about their wedding.

It didn't feel real yet.

After breakfast, which was as pleasant as possible, the king explained that he would speak to parliament and the press on the same day, to ensure that the attack wouldn’t go unpunished, the atmosphere became more tense.

Although Y/N had suggested that she go along with her father, he denied it. This was a matter that would take up a lot of the princess's time and she would have to decide the details of the upcoming wedding.

“Linda, great to see you again!” Y/N spoke after the woman bowed to the two. “This is Prince Jeno.”

Linda lowered her head again to greet him and he smiled politely.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” she said. “Although I already knew a little about your highness.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really? I wonder why.” He glanced at Y/N who pretended not to take the hint.

“Let’s sit down, we have a lot to talk about.” Y/N pointed to the couch and the three of them went.

Jeno sat a little closer to Y/N than he should have and that didn't go unnoticed, Linda smiled discreetly while the princess tried to keep her expression calm.

Although she wanted to move away because the heat of Jeno's leg touching hers was leaving a weird tingling sensation in her stomach.

“I put together some ideas for the ceremony and reception.” Linda handed the folder she carried to the two of them.

Jeno held on, it was incredibly heavy, and turned his torso a little more towards Y/N, getting slightly closer.

She took a deep breath before focusing her attention on the photos.

The parties that Linda had chosen were of different themes, one was completely royal that would have some traditions but was more modern than the last weddings in Y/N's family, another seemed to have a slightly more Greek theme and the last one a little more vintage.

The princess and Jeno observed the photos carefully, all the themes were incredible and the references that Linda had selected made the task of choosing much more difficult.

“What about our clothes?” Jeno asked, after they went through at least half of the photos.

“Well, I left it free for you to choose. We have a few designers who have offered to work for your highnesses' wedding, including Zuhair Murad.”

The princess looked at Linda, surprised.

“Zuhair Murad? That Zuhair Murad?”

Jeno looked at the princess, seeing her eyes shine.

“Yes, your highness.”

Y/N blinked a few times, perplexed. She admired Zuhair Murad's work and loved his dresses, but she never imagined he would be interested in making her wedding dress.

“Would your highnesses like to make any requests for the costumes?” Linda held up her tablet, ready to take notes.

“I can’t know which dress Y/N will choose?” Jeno raised his eyebrow as he looked at Linda, who laughed discreetly as Y/N crossed her arms.

“No, your highness.”

"I have a request." The princess spoke, looking at Jeno. “May his tuxedo have a decent shirt that covers his neck.”

Linda swallowed a laugh while Jeno looked at the princess almost offended, because part of him was even finding it funny.

“Honey, you don’t need to show your jealousy in front of people, soon I’ll be yours anyway.” He winked at her and smirked, amused to see her falter.

Y/N didn't respond right away, she just continued staring at him and then smiled evilly.

He wanted to play, right?

Well, she would have two dresses to get revenge on Jeno.

“You’re right, my love.” This time, it wasn't irony that Jeno found in Y/N's tone, but something he didn't expect, competitiveness.

The princess went back to talking to Linda about the designers and how they would get in touch with them to see the models of the dresses, while Jeno was busy looking at the photos of the buffet that would be hired even though his head was thinking about what Y/N was up to with all that.

She didn't roll her eyes or pinch him without Linda seeing, that was strange.

He was expecting some kind of retaliation and got absolutely nothing.

After everything was agreed with Linda, she left the room and left the two alone, Y/N got up and went to the large window hugging her body while Jeno looked at her curiously.

Y/N took a deep breath and faced the landscape outside, she had only been away from home for a short time but had missed practically everything in her kingdom, in her home.

“You seem happy.” Jeno commented and followed the same path as the princess, stopping next to her to observe what she was looking at.

He was getting used to that kingdom.

Y/N smiled discreetly.

"And I am." he sighed. “You know what it feels like to finally come home.”

Jeno agreed and put his hands in his pants pockets.

“Then why does your voice sound worried?” He asked, curious and that made her look at him in surprise.

Y/N debated whether or not to speak to him, but remembering that Jeno would be her ally from now on made her choose positively.

“So much going on and the two of us here, having to see the details of the wedding.” the princess passed her hand over her face. “It seems kind of… selfish.”

She shrugged, she hadn't gotten the attack out of her head since she had seen it on the news and being there, without being able to do anything useful made her feel… incapable.

"Hey." Jeno brought his palm to touch her shoulder very gently, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not selfish. It’s something that needs to be done, princess.”

“But while people are grieving for their injured loved ones in hospitals? How can this be acceptable?” she questioned, focusing her gaze on a fixed point outside.

“Princess, look at me.” Jeno didn't get a response so he brought his hand to her chin, making her lift her face to look at him. “Y/N.”

She couldn't look away from Jeno, even though in her mind she felt like she had to so as not to get lost in his serene eyes.

And she felt a very slight shiver on the back of her neck when she heard her own name.

“The people of this kingdom deserve a reason to celebrate.”

“Do you think they want to raise the flag on our coat of arms?!”

“That’s not what I mean.” he spoke firmly and she frowned. “I’m talking about our alliance, they will have reason to see security in our union.”

Y/N was surprised by Jeno's sincerity and she herself believed those words, which is why she smiled sideways. Jeno mirrored her reaction and neither of them moved an inch.

They stayed there, looking at each other complicitly until Jeno's eyes went down the princess's face and looked at her mouth.

Y/N swallowed hard and suddenly her lips seemed to have lost all their hydration when Jeno's eyes fixed them, but she did the same.

She stared at the prince's full, pink lips that seemed too inviting for her lucidity.

Y/N stood still without knowing what to say or do, and Jeno interpreted that as a positive response, if it had been negative he would have certainly already been slapped in the face, and he got close enough so that their breaths were closer and he took hand up to Y/N's cheek.

He just needed to get a little closer, she was there and didn't look like she was going to back down.

He was so close that he could smell her perfume…

The door being suddenly opened made them both jump back and move away, Y/N blinked a few times and almost thanked the odds.

If she hadn't seen the maid at the party there with a fake look of shock.

It was enough for her to frown.

“A thousand pardons, your highnesses, I didn’t know you were here.” she bowed before hurriedly leaving the room as quickly as she entered.

Y/N faced the closed door and felt a bitter taste in her mouth as well as her blood bubbling.

She wouldn't be a shrew queen, but she would have to deal with that insolent maid if she wanted to keep her truce with her fiancé.

Worse, if she wanted to maintain the stability of her reign.

[...]

"Mom?"

The queen raised her head when she heard the princess's voice echo through the office and frowned when she saw her there.

"Yes, my dear?" she put down her pen, giving her daughter her full attention.

"Are you busy? I would like to talk with you."

The queen moved her hand, indicating for her to enter and she did so.

“You can come in, I was signing some things about our financial aid for the victims of the attack.”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling her heart sink and sat down in front of her mother.

“I saw the statement.” she smiled restrainedly.

The king and queen had announced that they would help the victims in every way, with medical and psychological help, as well as their families while investigations were still ongoing. It was the least they could do to alleviate the suffering of their people.

“We had to do it.” she explained and faced her daughter, interlacing her fingers on the table. “But I don’t think that’s what you want to talk to me about.”

Y/N nodded.

“Well, since I know you hate beating around the bush, I’ll be direct. What should I do when a maid can bring trouble to my alliance with Jeno?”

The queen raised her eyebrows, partly shocked to hear that even though it had already been predicted.

"What kind of problem?"

The princess measured her words, she would be honest with her mother but not rudely. She wasn't talking to Yeri, she needed to act like the princess she had been taught to be.

And that's why she went to her mother, she wanted to have a more rational opinion.

“You know I don’t love Jeno the way you love my father.” she remembered and saw the queen reluctant to agree. “And you also know about Jeno’s fame before Prince Romeo’s image, and let’s just say that this maid is an old fling of his.”

The queen understood her daughter's words well and smiled discreetly.

"Of course. What do you think should be done in this type of case?”

“Considering that we have to pretend even to the employees that we are in love with each other, her presence here poses a threat.” she concluded.

“Yes, and threats we eliminate.”

“I just don’t think it’s fair to fire her for sleeping with him.” the princess shrugged, feeling her head spin.

She was fed up with that maid and fed up with that subject.

“Do you know what makes a really good royal maid?” The princess shook her head. "Discretion. Trust. If one of our employees doesn't deliver on either of these two things, then our reign could fall apart.”

“Consequently the kingdom too.” Y/N concluded.

“There are two options, my dear, you fire the girl and run the risk of having a former employee spreading our secrets around or you can strengthen a bond that will be great for both parties.”

Y/N frowned.

"What do you mean by that?"

“Find out what she really wants and make it easier for her to get it.”

She narrowed her eyes, understanding the same line of reasoning as her mother.

“Don’t just give it to her as a deal.”

Her mother shook her head.

“Deals don’t work in situations like this, there will always be blackmail. Show that you have a faster way.”

The princess nodded and an idea emerged.

"You're right." She got up from her chair. “I will resolve this as soon as possible. Thank you, mom.”

Y/N prepared to leave, but her mother called out to her as soon as she opened the door.

"Yes?" she turned around after hearing her name.

“Be careful, maybe you're burying something you don't want to see but it's right in front of you.”

Y/N was confused and stared at her mother, waiting for her to continue but she didn't say anything else, making the princess agree and leave trying to figure out what her mother had said.

But her head didn't focus on that for now, she went to the kitchen where she knew most of the maids were and one in particular wanted to talk.

It wasn't so rare to see Y/N in the kitchen, she had her father's altruistic spirit and didn't follow the house rules about not going to the employees' quarters or the places where they worked, she liked seeing them and especially talking to them. It made her come out of her royal bubble.

However, it was still funny to see the employees stop in shock to bow.

“Your Highness!”

“Nana!”

"Something happened? Need something?"

Y/N smiled slightly at the housekeeper.

"No, it’s alright. Please get back to work, I’m just taking a walk around the castle.”

Nana gave the signal for the employees to return to their duties and the princess had to control herself not to roll her eyes at a specific employee.

“Nana.” Y/N approached and the housekeeper continued listening, attentively. "Can I talk to you?"

“Of course, your highness!”

The princess walked ahead, heading towards the back garden and stopped near the fountain, far away so no one could hear.

“I want to know a little more about the younger maids.” she spoke directly. “They recently came to the castle and I couldn’t pay attention to the details before.”

“Because of your training.”

Y/N nodded. At the same time that new maids entered the castle, the princess was busy with royal tasks.

Studying whatever she could, from geopolitics to the art of using a bow and arrow, she was being prepared to be the queen she was born to be, smaller details like maids were up to her mother.

“What would you like to know, your highness?”

"Everything." she spoke firmly and paid attention to Nana.

The princess heard everything, knew the names of the maids but was still confused about their roles.

And well, apparently the maid in question she wanted to know helped with everything she could or was assigned. From what she heard, she realized that the girl worked harder than she should and knew exactly what to do the moment she heard that she was a little more ambitious than the rest.

It was exactly what she wanted to hear and needed to know. It was enough.

She talked to Nana some more, really interested in getting to know her employees a little more and when she had heard enough, Nana was called and she walked away from the princess bowing.

Y/N took a deep breath, she already knew when she would act and how, she just needed to make a phone call and went back inside the castle in search of her phone.

She would resolve this situation as quickly as she could. She didn’t have time to waste.

She passed by the east side of the castle and would have passed by a room she knew well if it weren't for the reflection she saw in the mirror, she stopped where she was and slowly approached the gym door.

Jeno was preparing to do a series of weightlifting while breathing heavily, his black tank top was clinging as well as his slightly wet hair that fell across his forehead.

Well, of course Y/N's intention wasn’t to stay there and watch Jeno training but when his arms started to move, leaving his exposed biceps, it was a difficult task to move away.

Even because Y/N's jaw dropped because practically accidentally eating his body with her eyes that her brain wasn't working properly.

And when he dropped the weights on the floor and groaned loudly, her legs wobbled.

"My God." Y/N didn't even control her voice, which came out louder than it should have.

Jeno searched the room for the sound with his eyes and Y/N tried to hide before his eyes met hers, uselessly.

Because Jeno not only found her, he spoke to her.

“Princess, to what do I owe the honor?” she closed her eyes to take a deep breath and she could feel his small smile as he spoke.

Y/N turned completely to face him and smiled politely, forcing her eyes to look at his face and not his arms.

“I was just passing by to see if the gym was free but since it wasn’t, I’ll come back later.” she lied and heard him laugh.

"Wait a second." he said, approaching where the princess was. “With a gym this size, I think we can share the space, right?”

Y/N pondered, he was right.

“Unless you will get distracted so easily with me here.”

Jeno crossed his arms, making even bigger and she looked at him boredly, swallowing hard.

She needed to control herself, she wouldn't be tempted to look at his arms. Again.

"You're so funny." she replied sarcastically.

"And you like." he winked.

Y/N snorted.

“I’m leaving before I throw that steel bar in your face.” she replied ironically and Jeno laughed.

“Always running away.” he spoke quietly as soon as the princess turned her back and went back to redo his series.

Y/N clenched her fists and made to turn around to answer him but a more evil idea crossed her mind and she couldn't even hold back the malicious smile.

The princess then projected her torso forward, pretending to pick up something from the floor, leaving her butt exposed thanks to the skirt she wore so Jeno could have a free view.

She heard a crash in the gym and stood completely upright again, looking over her shoulder as Jeno was cursing and holding his foot that had been hit by a weight he had dropped.

"Shit." he complained, jumping up and down as the princess's smile grew.

“Oops.” she spoke with false naivety and left there shaking her booty more than she should have.

How good it felt to have Jeno's jaw dropped.

[...]

“Yes, your majesty.” Nana bowed before leaving the living room in search of what the queen had ordered.

Y/N couldn't hide the small smile of victory that appeared.

“My daughter, why do I have the feeling that this is connected to you?”

The queen then turned to face her daughter, it wasn't like she needed an answer because it was obvious.

"With me?" the princess pointed to herself, feigning surprise. “Now, mother, this is not the first time we have appointed people to perform services for other nobles in our neighboring countries.”

The queen raised an eyebrow.

“I know, and suddenly the Kim family needed maids so much?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Everyone knows that we have a lot of younger employees and in all honesty, the salary they pay is much better than ours.”

“Of course, because not everyone likes working in the winter for 10 months of the year.”

Y/N nodded.

The Kim family, from the northern kingdom, had requested some recommendations for employees as, due to the kingdom being extremely cold practically all year round, they were in short supply. And the princess had kindly offered some of her maids.

She informed the queen who asked Nana to gather the younger ones to find out who would accept the sudden change.

Something very normal between the kingdoms.

But of course, the princess had helped a little by making the process much faster than usual.

And there she was, behind her mother waiting for the maids to arrive to find out who would accept the proposal.

As soon as the girls arrived, accompanied by Nana, the queen began to explain.

“Prince Doyoung of the North Kim family will soon get married and will need more staff in his castle, he kindly asked for trustworthy people who work well and I would like to inform you that you have been selected to make the decision whether you want to go to there or continue here.”

Y/N saw the insolent maid's eyes light up at every detail the queen reported about the partnership between the kingdoms and could see that everything she had heard from her was true.

But she was sure that her plan worked when Nana distributed the papers with the description of the service and values to the maids.

The queen was giving those girls the choice and all the princess saw was that at least whoever she wanted had already accepted before even seeing the prices.

Three of the girls raised their hands to indicate that they accepted, including the one Y/N wanted. She didn't look arrogantly at the maid, she had rather liked the news and was more relieved, but she wasn't going to show the joy she was feeling in knowing that she was leaving today.

“Nana, do you know where Jeno is?” Y/N asked after all the girls were dismissed.

“I saw him in the library, your highness.”

"Thank you!" She smiled gratefully and Nana left, Y/N looked at her mother. “I have to sort out some wedding details.”

“Y/N.”

"Yes?" She stopped where she was.

“Did you happen to suspect something else?” she questioned, curious.

Y/N frowned and shook her head.

If the queen was referring to the fact that they had a spy in the castle, that was the last thing on the princess's mind.

It seemed childish and selfish, but all of this had been done to preserve the love story that had been sold between her and Jeno, nothing more.

“Even if it were, it’s better to nip the problem in the bud.” the princess said before leaving.

Y/N went to the library and even though she tried to be discreet, the huge door let Jeno know she was there as soon as she opened it.

"Princess?" he blinked more than once, to make sure it wasn't a mirage.

"I need to talk to you." she said, closing the door behind her and standing still, far away from Jeno, so that his perfume wouldn't permeate her nose, considering that he seemed to have taken a shower after training.

"Okay." He moved the book away from his lap, placing it next to him on the sofa and looked closely at her.

“We will have changes in employees.” she explained, seeing him looking completely confused.

“And what exactly is important to me?” he questioned and made a pout, which Y/N felt like undoing it.

With her own lips.

She took a deep breath before responding.

“It means that the next time you want to make out with someone in the castle corridors, please be discreet.” she concluded, with a lot of sarcasm in her voice.

This seemed to amuse Jeno, who, in addition to smiling, got up from where he was sitting and crossed his arms.

“Thank you, I am very honored by this.”

The princess raised her eyebrows.

“You would know anyway, we will have selections for replacements.” she shrugged and turned her body partially so she could leave.

However, she was interrupted by Jeno's voice.

“That’s not what I was talking about.” he started walking towards her. “I’m referring to the fact that I caught a note of jealousy in your voice.” The princess's jaw dropped, almost as if she was offended by the discovery, and Jeno didn't stop walking towards her.

In fact, he only stopped because Y/N stopped him, placing her hand on his chest and forcing him to stop before he touched her.

“The day I feel jealous of you…” she began speaking, her voice slightly weak but she could barely finish as Jeno brought his face closer to hers, even though her hand was blocking the contact between their bodies.

He stopped inches away from her, staring into her eyes with an intensity that made Y/N's legs tremble.

“That day has already come and I don’t think it was today.” he teased.

Y/N's chest rose and fell unevenly from heavy breathing, as if she had run a marathon, but in reality all she could do was stare at Jeno as if she wanted to kill him and kiss him at the same time.

“You are very cocky.” she spat out the words, hating herself for not being able to deny it.

“And you’re really cute when you’re angry.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and in one quick movement, Jeno grabbed her by the waist and crossed the gap between them, and then pressed her against the first wall he saw.

The princess could only react with a surprised whisper. Jeno's body was hard, hot and extremely inviting, that wouldn't be good for her sanity.

“How about we play fair around here, princess.” He tilted his head to the side and his breath hit her neck, Y/N squeezed the t-shirt he was wearing with the little strength she still had left in a situation like that.

Being pressed against the wall by him was something from her darkest and most naughty dreams, she didn't know how to react to that in real life.

“If you think I'm going to beg you to kiss me, you can give up. Make out with all the maids in the castle and this won’t happen.” denial was always the only way out she found.

He raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“I think you still don’t understand.” he spoke low, sexy, making the princess swallow hard. Mainly because Jeno brought his face closer to hers and touched their noses. “The only person I will kiss in this castle will be you.”

Y/N didn't have the courage, much less the strength, to respond, he was so close that she felt a slight tickle as he spoke, their lips almost touching.

For a brief moment, she considered giving in, it was true. Jeno was there, ready to end that torture once and for all and the scenes of the intense dreams she had with him were haunting her mind at that most opportune moment.

It seemed to be the answer her body needed but was in constant struggle with her reason.

However, not straying from that unsustainable script, knocks on the door echoed throughout the room and with all the strength she still had left, the princess pushed Jeno away, breathing heavily.

He walked away, clearly unwillingly.

“Honey, your dad arrived. Please get ready for dinner.” She heard her mother's voice and blinked countless times to return to reality.

"All right mother." she replied loud enough for her mother to hear but her voice was shaky.

Y/N stared at Jeno without knowing what to do as she heard her mother's footsteps move away, she wet her dry lips with her own tongue and put her hand to the back of her head, scratching the area.

Jeno ran his hand through his dark hair as he returned the look, a look of someone who didn't know what had happened there but he didn't want it to be interrupted.

Without saying a single word, Y/N left the room feeling Jeno's eyes watching her as her head spun.

Now she knew that it would be practically impossible to win the bet.

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pixelglam · 1 month ago

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Hi Amelie! I love the aesthetic of your game and builds. You've shared some pictures of a build named "Residences & Shops in Munich, Germany". I have been reeally in love with "multipurpose" builds with more than 1 building in a block like that. I'd like to ask, do you have any tips in building a large "block/street" like that? I'm having a hard time visualizing compatible floorplans. Would you ever be interested in sharing a bit of how you build, like a backstage view of your process? Thank you

Hello! I really appreciate your kind words! I actually answered a question on my building tips and the steps I personally take when starting a build here. In terms of building larger multipurpose lots I actually haven't built anything else like this but here are some more tips that I thought of when building my Munich shops: (these are quite specific but hopefully will still be helpful to you!)

Define the Purpose: Start by deciding the main functions of your build (e.g., apartments, clothing store, office spaces). This will guide your design choices and floorplans.

Entrance Design: Ensure each area has its own entrance. For commercial spaces, a storefront with large windows is inviting, while residential units usually have private entries.

Access: Consider how Sims will move between the different areas. Use staircases or elevators to connect each floor.

Common Areas: For apartment buildings, consider creating shared spaces like a laundry room, lounge, or outdoor area that residents can enjoy and use.

Theme and Branding: Decide on a theme for your store (e.g., clothing, grocery, bakery). This will help everything look and feel cohesive.

Display and Layout: Create displays with items on shelves or counters. Feel free to look up actual floorplans of clothing or grocery stores for realism.

Backroom Storage: Include a small storage area or backroom for employees to manage inventory. This adds realism.

Functional Space (for Offices): Design offices with functional workspaces, including desks, chairs, and meeting areas. Consider creating cubicles or open spaces based on your inspiration photo/idea.

Break Area: Incorporate a break room or lounge where employees can relax. A kitchenette with a coffee maker and snacks can make it more inviting.

Decor: Use office-related decor like filing cabinets, plants, and artwork to make the space feel professional yet comfortable.

Here is an example that might further help you:

Ground Floor: Retail store with a large display area, checkout counter, and storage in the back.

Second Floor: Offices with multiple rooms, including a reception area and meeting room. Ensure there's a small break area for employees.

Third Floor: Apartments with a mix of layouts (one-bedroom and studio units). Each unit can have a small kitchen and living area, with balconies for outdoor space.

#answered #tips

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modernism-in-metroland · 23 days ago

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Our new Modernism Beyond Metro-Land guidebook features many architects, working in a variety of styles and materials. Walter Segal’s work is unique among them for its focus on self building and use of timber. The borough of Lewisham was the first place to embrace his ideas, which have subsequently spread around the suburbs and beyond.

After a number of years designing small projects such as houses, flats and offices, largely in brick, Segal began to explore timber construction with a temporary annexe whilst his house in Highgate was being rebuilt, devising a self build system using widely available and low cost materials, in standard units. He saw how anybody could use the system to construct their own homes, and via the anarchist writer and architect Colin Ward, found a sympathetic reception at Lewisham Borough Council. They eventually allowed him some land to start building in Forest Hill, constructing 7 homes in what would be named Segal Close.

Other houses were built in Ormanton Road and Longton Avenue, Sydenham and Elstree Hill, Ravensbourne, all using the Segal method and producing houses built with timber frames and infill panels. Another plot of land was given over for self building in Honor Oak Park, where 13 two-storey timber houses were completed in 1986, and the street named Walter’s Way.

The borough’s own architects department also took inspiration from Segal's ideas, with the scheme at Brockley Park, next to Segal Close, designed by Geoffrey Wigfall, using mono pitched homes built in brick and finished with timber cladding and grass roofs. Some of the houses feature “pods” at the front, to be used for extra living or storage space, and the estate is grouped around a large green space.

Segal passed away in 1985 but his ideas persisted with self build projects appearing all around the capital's suburbs, with collaborator Jon Broome continuing the philosophy with his own practice Architype. Self-built projects can be found at Headway Gardens in Walthamstow, Parish Gardens in Greenwich, Eridge Green Close in Bromley and opposite Segal Close in Brockley Park, as well as at many other sites around the suburbs. Walter Segal’s self-build houses will have an extended section in our Modernism Beyond Metroland guidebook, now at 94% of its crowdfunding total. Get your copy here https://unbound.com/books/modernism-beyond-metro-land/

#architecture #modernism #london #metroland

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drapopia · 3 months ago

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the flames devour (everything that we are)

pairing: (young) sister imperator x (young) papa nihil emeritus

warnings: SMUT! vaginal sex, vaginal fingering/cunnilingus, groupie sex/mild infidelity, a messy coupling, some light angst and mentioned misogyny, mentioned past murder, set around the late 60's but before the Kiss the Go Goat incident, only Primo and Secondo exist

summary: Control, power, fame. Everything Sister Imperator promised the Clergy that the Ghost Project would culminate and more. But when push comes to shove and Nihil can't look past the packed backstage doors, someone has to put their foot down. (Surprise, surprise. It's not Sister Imperator).

word count: 10.2k

authors note: special thanks to @barelydaisy for commissioning this piece from me! the gratitude i feel towards you makes me ever so fond! i hope whoever reads this enjoys it, comments/reblogs/likes are always appreciated!

MINORS DNI

Read On AO3

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Facetious. Flippant. Exaggeratedly stupid enough to make her head thrum with anger on a daily basis. How unfortunate that he be so alluring.

The motel lobby was stuffy, the air thick and humid with the hum of the heater. She assumed it was the owner’s fault the heat was up so high, the flurries of snow outside swirling across the frosted panes of glass. She looked at the carpet below her, mottled with green and brown in an unappealing combination. It was a struggle to push down the urge to scoff.

Lifting her head, she studied the features in the dimly lit foyer. The furniture was mismatched in an abysmal show of ‘interior design’ skills, a mixing of modern and so dreadfully outdated that it made her want to retch. Resisting the urge to openly huff, Imperator pulled her coat tighter around her. The fur trim tickles against her neck, her hair further up than normal and lessening the chance of it whipping in the wind. The silk scarf wrapped around her head protects her ears, and heightens the anticipation of walking into a room and having all eyes on her.

She walks closer to the small front office window, peering in a bit more. The urge to ring the call bell and finally get some goddamn service was at the forefront of her mind. The dingy carpet, the thick lining of dust in the creases of the front desk, she could go on about the reasons she wished they were at another motel. To put it lightly, they were shit out of luck. She was no stranger to dingy motels, but the fact that they were better than that was a nagging thought in the back of her mind.

The tour was going well. In fact, better than well. Throngs of screaming fans, clubs and bars packed with people begging for an opportunity to see Papa Nihil up close. From her spot in the wings, Sister Imperator watched with subtle glee. She knew that Nihil was charismatic, but she hadn’t anticipated the reception they had gotten from the public. There were those in it for the music, for Satan, or more overwhelmingly for him. The dingy bars had been acceptable to play, the low tickets quickly piling into more than they had ever imagined possible for the Clergy.

Sister had fought for the Ghost project, staring down the eyes of men she knew only wanted to see her on her back with her legs spread. Men who wouldn’t shirk the chance to push her down for fun, to throw down her ideas with a lackadaisical “We’ll consider it.” But Sister Imperator had listened to her, looked at her ideas with an interest that led to her taking a young woman with wild ideas under her wing. And now here she was, with her title and her status, a former name now neglected, a shallow grave in the woods at the Abbey that nobody would find, and a small syringe hidden in a lockbox that she had thrown away the key to.

But with fame and a message spreading far quicker than anticipated, Sister couldn’t help but wish to stretch the budget in other ways. For once she would like to lay her head in a bed she hadn’t voraciously searched for bed bugs, stripping the sheets to find cigarette burns in the mattress. Nihil hadn’t cared, simply flopping down beside her and mouth opening in an uncaring yawn. Though they had separate rooms, it was seldom that they spent the night away from one another. Though she was loath to admit it, she had grown used to the weight of his head on her chest and the rise and fall of his breath on her nightgown. The road was lonely, who else to turn to but him? Practically any ghoul or stage hand , she thought to herself. But where was the fun in that?

Her line of thought was broken as she heard the waddling gait of the man stationed at the front desk, his non-slip shoes certainly close to slipping on the waxed linoleum. He appeared at the window, the flannel buttoned so tightly around his neck that she was frightened it was strangling him.

He let out a huff, flipping through the pages of paperwork that the Clergy had sent months earlier in preparation for the tour. Three rooms, two for her and Nihil and one for any reclusive ghouls that didn’t want to pile in on the bus. The man looked at her, locking eyes with an uninterested, if slightly bored, look. “Alright, I found the work in the back. Took me a minute, but it was just tucked away. You have ID, right?”

Sister nodded, her hand reaching into the mustard yellow vinyl bag she kept her clutch in. After flicking through her pocket change, she found her ID behind Nihil’s credit card. She grabbed it, placing it down on the cracked plastic of the desk and pushing it towards the man. Though she had gloves on, she didn’t trust how clean the man's hands were and didn’t want to risk him staining the crisp white of her faux fur gloves. (She cared little for the plight of the leather industry, but she couldn’t deny the news articles dampened her excitement for a new addition to her closet).

The man picked up the ID, gave it a cursory glance and nodded his head in acceptance. His hand slid under the desk, looking around for the keys no doubt. She turned around, her arms lightly wrapped around herself as the heater had stopped its incessant blasting. She turned in a half circle, her boots clicking against the floor once and then stopping. Her eyes turned to the window, the flurries coming down as mercilessly as they had been when they had rolled into the parking lot.

The light from the overhead street light shone hazy light over the parking lot, blending into the dark of the winter night as seamlessly as cream stirred into coffee. The bus was in the distance, the tinted lights only showing blurry shapes moving against the inside of the vehicle. That wasn’t what she glimpsed that snatched her attention away from the moment.

Leaning against the pillar of the motel was the curved posture of Nihil, his coat wrapped around his waist in a way that posited his sculpted abdomen that anybody would blush at. His makeup was still painted on, though a familiar eye could tell where it was beginning to pill on his neck from the copious sweat that poured down in the stage lights. His legs were crossed behind him, his platforms digging into the swirls of snow that would no doubt accumulate over night. Even through the heat of his body, the flakes of snow drifting down had caught on the unruly strands of hair and failed to melt. That wasn’t what Sister couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away from.

Nihil’s arm was placed along the hip of a woman, unknown to her. No doubt a fan from the way the woman’s lips were curled into gleeful disbelief at her luck. Sister could almost imagine the tittering, the vapid flustering of words that had become so commonplace that all she could do was turn with a roll of her eyes and a tap of her cigarette. The woman’s lips moved, and Sister could see Nihil’s mouth open in a laugh, the easy smile on his face directed at her. The hand on the woman’s hip visibly gripped tighter, pulling her closer to the warmth of his torso. The woman’s hand raised, gripping his clothed bicep and running up and down. Mocking.

Nihil turned, the woman moving alongside him and his arm curling around her hips, her deliciously full waist. His fingers pulled at the flesh, and his touch was… soft. Unfamiliar and with an air of understanding that no doubt made the woman’s stomach flutter with warmth. Had she ever been touched by a man, a woman? The intoxicating knowledge that she had sealed the deal with Papa Nihil, up and coming star of the Olde One himself. Did she know just how well his fingers moved, how his cock had made so many feel like their world was melting around them? She soon would.

Sister’s face was blank, her eyes narrowed in contemplation and thinly veiled vexation. Her stomach was simmering with… rage? Unclear. Her gloves squeaked as her hands squeezed together, her arms still crossed tightly together.

“Ma’am?” A voice said behind her, and she turned on her heel. What now? Imperator thought, her eyes flicking down at the set of keys on the ledge of the desk and her irritation fading. She picked up the key, gripping it in her hand.

The front desk attendant reached into the drawer, his head tilting up to meet her gaze. “Do you want the other key for your friend?” He motioned his head, leaning on his foot to look at Nihil outside.

Sister shook her head, her hair weighing heavy on top of it. She still needed to take a shower, unravel the intricate pins around her bun, and unpack her clothes for the morning. She let out a sigh, a careful shrug of her shoulders as she craned her head around to look out the window once more. Still in the cold, Nihil’s arms were wrapped tightly around the woman, his lips latched onto her neck and her mouth open in what was undoubtedly a wanton moan. In the middle of the night, no one was around to see them. But Sister knew he would have done it onstage, at an after party, on an altar at Black Mass for Satan’s sake.

She swiftly turned her head, meeting his gaze and pointedly dropping a twenty on the cracked plastic once more. “He can do it himself, I’m certain he can manage.” Her voice came out firm and stiff in the quiet of the lobby, and she turned to walk to the door. While she could ignore the way he licked at the woman's ear, turning pink from the bitter gusts of wind, she couldn’t ignore the simmering heat in her stomach. But there was nothing saying she couldn’t try.

___________________

The heat of the dressing room was sweltering, the push and pull of bodies making Imperator’s lip curl in disgust. The heat of the fire ghoul to her left was making her sweat, and she couldn’t afford to stain the new Emilio Pucci dress she had purchased earlier that day. The pink and green pattern helped to disguise the sweat no doubt attempting to push its way past her slip, the silk cool against her skin in the overwhelming bustle before the show. She was happy she opted to wear her hair in a high bun, the bump in her hair allowing the thin air to waft against her neck.

As she studied the people (and otherwise) in the room, her eyes landed on Nihil naturally. His hands were steady as he painted the lines across his lips, his mouth open in what would be a gasp if the thought to do so struck him. She smiled, her hand raising to her lips and taking a small drag of her cigarette. She let her hand fall away, tapping the ash into the crowded ashtray to her left. As the months in the tour had gone on, she had felt drawn towards Nihil. Long nights were spent with him nestled into her side, speaking about where they had come from, their dreams, what toppings they would add to a sundae, what colors they look best in. It was hard to deny the way her heart pounded when he drew near, though she hid it behind a stern demeanor and a perfectly drawn on smile.

The door opened, a ghoul walking in and looking towards Nihil. “Papa? You’ve got a call on the other line, the manager is trying to patch it through to ‘ya.” The earth ghoul spoke in a lethargic sway as he pushed his way through the crowd, the familiar pungent smell of dope stuck to his clothes. Nihil nodded, shooting the ghoul a half painted grin as he set down the brush and reached for the white marbled telephone to his left. He picked it up off the receiver, holding it against his ear. He paused, listening for the feedback of the call.

“Yello?” Nihil said into the phone, a confused look on his face, though it stretched into a grin as he let the call go on further. “Yes, it’s Papa. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping? Is it not night there, ragazzino? ( little boy).” Nihil’s lips were wide as he snickered into the phone, cradling it to his ear as he listened intently. Imperator could have bled from the ears at the urge to roll her eyes.

Nihil’s son Primo was sweet, there were no doubts about that. Quiet and intelligent, he was racing through his studies with diligence that was admirable for children his age. However, she couldn’t stop the irritation that fueled her when she saw him, heard his voice. He was a child, for Satan’s sake, she was being unreasonably harsh! But he was part of the bloodline, time would tell if he was worthy of his spot as Papa in adulthood. For now, he would watch Doctor Who and study to be the antipope. What an antithesis, she snorted to herself, pulling her cigarette to her lips for another puff.

“I will keep you on my mind, make sure to keep an eye out for your little brother. Especially him, I know he has been eating my Cordials. I have eyes on him, the piccola rana. (little frog).” NIhil laughs, his white paint creasing where he had failed to set it. After a minute or so of diligent listening, he shushes into the phone. “Goodnight, tell your fratello I send my love.” A pause, and a look of tired fondness softens his face. “Bye bye.” He pulls the phone away from his ear, placing it back on the receiver with a ring.

She wouldn’t pry, Sister thought to herself. Though she was never one to shy away from stirring up the mud with a well placed jab, she knew better than to push at the… delicate nature of Nihil’s relationship with his young children. It’s not as though they were all little monsters (She found herself grimacing internally, they weren’t little monsters all the time. But it would be no hard challenge to count on her fingers all the times she’d found leftover Chiclets from Secondo in her purse. Little bastard).

She rose from her seat, pushing through the ghouls pulling on their clothes for the performance. Walking up to stand behind his desk, she met his gaze in the mirror with a smile barely noticeable in the haze of the dimly lit room.

Nihil meets her smile with one of his own, his hand deftly gripping the small liner brush to his left and dipping it into the black grease paint. His eyes pull away from hers with a small degree of difficulty, she notices, and looks towards the mirror and continues the small strokes across his lips, above the bow of his upper lip and ending at his full lower lip. Hands rise, resting on his shoulders as she leans slowly down. Sister smiles, pulling in his scent that was so delicately him. How he managed to smell like juniper and basil eluded her, Nihil even going to a point of going into another room to spray his cologne so she couldn’t see the bottle. (“A man has to have some sort of mystery, si?” He had laughed, and she responded with a scoff. It still didn’t stop her from scouring every perfume counter in every city to find it).

She leaned her cheek against his, his eyes still locked onto his visage in the mirror, but his hands had a perceptible shake to them. “Nervous?” Sister purred, her pink frosted nails tracing along the line of his black leather coat.

Her cheek pulled away from his, her lips turning to the shell of his ear. Her breath was soft and warm on his ear, a tickle against the skin of his neck that pulled the hair on end quicker than the cold outside. Even in a warm room, Sister made him feel as if he’d gone skinny dipping in November.

“No, I am not. Merely hot.” His voice was soft in the din of the crowded room. “You would think they would have another room to dress in, si ?” He smiled at her, adding a thicker line to balance the larger stripe alongside it. Her nails continue to trace along his collar, the soft pads on her finger edging along the skin of his neck. Dipping into the countours of his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple with a calculating grace. His breath was steady, but his eyes, not yet coated with black shadow, were lidded with a hazy fondness.

An excited yelp from the corner by Nihil’s own guitarist shocked her out of the moment, her hands quickly pulling away. NIhil’s smile dropped in disappointment, but it stilled as Sister’s hands returned to tug his collar closer together and quickly fasten a button.

“We have a budget, Papa.” Sister’s voice said softly, though it was said with such finality so as to stop the train of conversation from going any further. Nihil shrugged, setting down the smaller liner brush and reaching across the table for his loose powder. As he opened his mouth, she knew the attempt would go ignored.

He hummed, looking up at her with a playful smirk, “Oh? And our budget includes a new pair of pumps?” At that her smile becomes an even line, her thin eyebrows furrowing as the words drop from his lips. Of course he had to push too far. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand the limits of their spending allowance. It didn’t stop him picking the most upscale restaurants in the area, loosening the buttons on his shirts as more and more drinks were sent to the table, the way his eyes roamed the women who passed by. To her annoyance, he had never noticed the way her hands gripped the stem of her wine glass with vitriol, how she met the gaze of every curious woman and turned their eyes away.

“Yes. Just as it apparently includes a new coat and- oh? What’s this?” Sister’s hands shot towards him, gripping his wrist with care. She held it with tightness, making sure not to hurt Nihil. Never hurt, she told herself. Sister’s eyes sparked with a curious viciousness, but her stomach burned with ire.

“A new watch? Where could you have possibly gotten this little gem?” She hummed similarly to his own playful song moments beforehand. If there was one thing Imperator could do, she could match someone’s game. In kindness or in truculence.

Nihil’s smile didn’t drop, but the kidnapped arm rose and cupped her cheek. She sighed, resisting the urge to lean into his palm. The hand remained around his wrist, but she let it it go somewhat lax. The thick curls of hair along his arms were soft, though the wiry swirls of hair along his stomach were similar but not quite so coarse. Her thumb rubbed along his wrist, a gentle back and forth.

“I want to look nice for you, Sister.” Nihil’s accent and the curiously odd intones of ‘Sister’ made her cheeks tighten with the urge to giggle, and the tight smile made Nihil’s lip lift even further.. “Do I not look nice for you? I try so hard, you know this.” He pouts, the pop of his lower lip making her smile spread further. Damn fool, she thought to herself. Was she speaking about herself, or Papa? She could parcel through these thoughts later in the obscured dark of the tour bus.

“You do.” Sister said in a low mumble. The way her stomach buzzed was unfamiliar, the compressed feeling around her lungs making it hard to conceive of any thought besides how Nihil smiled at her, the way his hand fit along her hip and how her hand had never felt so drawn to touch someone. His skin was so warm, a sunkissed tan that made her buzz with something unknown. Or maybe she had always known.

He pulled away, and she fought the urge to jump towards his arms again and pull him to her. No, she wouldn’t stoop to begging. He turned to the mirror, patting the powder into his lips. “Good! The crowd will love it, always so attentive. The doors are open after performances, as always.” His eyes gleamed, the devilish glow of his one white eye gleaming in the muted warmness of this damnedly hot room. Could it compare to the warmth in Sister Imperator’s chest?

The fuzziness she had felt moments earlier was extinguished in that single sentence, burned by the way she had to stop herself from reaching forward and throttling him right then and there. How stupid could a man be? She was stunned every single day by the utter idiocy of men, going from not knowing how to do laundry all the way to this. She let her face go blank, what other course of action was there? If she followed her emotions, Papa Nihil would be buried in a shallow grave behind this very club. To hold her in his hands, and then casually drop that he wanted to get his dick wet?

Satan, maybe she should have listened to her mother and just become a lesbian in Boston instead.

Sister straightened her posture. “Of course they’re always open.” she said coldly. Her hands folded in front of her. They’re always fucking open.

His eyes look towards her, the grin still on his face but his eyes speak of something she can’t pin. She turns around, pushing through the throng of bodies with the force needed. Nihil has the right to his body, just as she does to her own. She could find any man in this glorified venue, pull them into an alcove and possibly cum. There’s no guarantee of that, she thought, fighting back the mocking laugh that wanted to tumble out of her mouth.

But she won’t. She won’t do that.

_____________________

The crowd was loud, though the indescribable energy that had pulsed in the room minutes earlier had fallen as the show had come to a close. Sister Imperator looked from the wings, Nihil was glorious. Sweat dripped from his chin, his eye gleaming in the stage lights as he pranced along the edge of the stage. His shirt was unbuttoned, the ringlets of hair soaked under the fabric. His boots were clinking against the floor, the pointed tips tapping in a calculated rhythm. Women were lined along the edge, their hair curled and their lashes stark against pastel blues and blush pinks. Pink blush against dark skin, similar beads of sweat lining their cleavage that was oh so pointedly pushed forward. All for Nihil. And she knew that he knew, regardless of if he had made the asinine comments earlier.

She turned, walking along the dark corners. Stage hands were leisurely walking, some carrying side lights and some carrying cords, wrapped in loops and gingerly carried to storage closets nearby. She needed a cigarette before he came back there, shucking his coat off and waiting for women to fall to their knees before him, to curl up in his arms.

She felt the familiar burn in her stomach of anger, of envy. Where the hell did she put her handbag again? She slid along the walls, feeling her way through the dark as her boots clicked along the waxed floor. The burn of eyes along her legs made her grimace, one more nuisance to deal with. Being honest with herself, all she wanted right now was to be curled up in her blankets back at the hotel, pleasantly sated and sweaty, held in Nihil’s arms and dozing in the glow of the television set. But no, she had to see him go back to his room with one, if not several , women running their hands along his thin body.

She needed a cigarette.

The space opened, the stairs leading back to the green room intersection between a larger side door. She sighed, the flow of air leveling out in the space, away from sweaty rugged men. Reaching for the door, she felt the sweat at the nape of her neck go blessedly cold. A break was what she needed, it would be another hour or so before Sister had the opportunity to be completely alone with a nice glass of champagne. Damn it all, she’d pay for the room service her fucking self. The last thing she wanted after a night like this was the Clergy treasurer waking her up in the night wondering why they’d been notified by the hotel of another ‘useless’ purchase.

Imperator leaned against the wall, the high collar of her patterned dress constricting the skin around her neck. She was lucky she had done her hair so high, the beehive allowing her to feel the cold air on her skin as best as she could. As best as she could, the thought mocked her. Out of all the times Nihil had fucked her into the bed, it had been her controlling his moves. Grabbing him by the hair and moans punching out from his throat, riding him until he cried from the sheer ecstasy of the orgasms rung from his overextended body, sucking him down in the shitty tour bus bunks when the ghouls had finally taken the message and left. And here he was, leering over the edge of the stage like he called the shots.

Sister Imperator knew he couldn’t take initiative if it offered itself up with its legs spread. Why the hell would he start now, she lamented.

The door to her left opened, the conversation high and energetic. As the door opened, she met the gaze of three women. Their conversation halted, noticing the woman on their right. She doesn’t look at their clothes, what point does it serve? They’re back here now and have come for a reason. At one point, she had made a point to memorize what they wore. How their belts cinched their waists, how their breasts spilled softly from their blouses in an appealing display of warmth. Not that she stewed on it, she would just have a bartender conveniently card them, or they would just so happen to lose their tickets.

Her eyes meet with the first woman. She smiles, a warm if not curious smile. “Hey, sorry to bother, but could you point us in the direction of the dressing rooms?” Her smile is toothy, Imperator files this knowledge away.

Sister crosses her arms, steeling her features into a cold impasse. “No, they don’t have one.” Her voice is oppressive.

The other woman with a pale nude lip, stark against the darkness of her skin and softness of her cheeks blinks and screws her face in skepticism. The confusion is clear on her face. Here’s the thing about Sister Imperator: she doesn’t give two shits about her confusion. Sister is tired, her face baking under the powder she applied earlier that day, her feet burning from her platformed boots.

She’s not quite inclined to point these women towards Nihil and exclaim, “Here he is! His cock is always ready! Would you like condoms, or would you prefer to go raw? Both are enjoyable, I surely would know!”

At this point in the night, she’s far more inclined to being difficult.

“They don’t have a dressing room?” The first lady intones, her head tilting as she pouts in confusion.

“Precisely.” Sister says dryly, her eyes narrowing. Her arms, still crossed tightly, allow her to tap her fingers along her arm in impatience. The woman laughs, smiling at Sister. She clearly hasn’t caught on that Sister Imperator would rather be anywhere but here, especially in front of these other women.

“So does Papa just get changed in the hallways? That’d be a gas.” She giggles, leaning against the propped door. The other two women ignore her, exchanging a look that spelled their confusion more clearly than if they had spoken aloud.

Sister scoffs sarcastically, her lips lifting in sardonic aggression. “Yes, it surely would be.” The last thing she wanted was a conversation, just let her get her fucking cigarettes, go home and have a good cry away from where anyone could see her.

The woman smiles at her once more, looking forward and then turning her head back. “Do you know where he might actually be? We wanted to see him before we ditched here.”

Imperator can feel her smile tighten, shaking her head. Get the hint, lady, good fucking Lord. “He ditched earlier. You just missed him.” Her fingers still rap against her arm, the flickering lightbulb above making one of the other woman’s eye begin twitching. The toothy woman’s face falls, her smile twisting into a pout.

“Bummer.” She sighs, turning back to retreat back through the door. The third woman, her eyes narrowed, lets her eyes run over Sister’s appearance. She scoffs in dismissal, turning back. But before Sister can sigh in relief, her night continues its downward spiral into her own foray into the question of her own sanity.

The space is swallowed by the dark leather and painted face of Nihil himself, panting heavily. Though the sweat has been patted away from his face, his neck is red with exertion. Of fucking course. His eyes turned to her, and then to the three women currently staring at him with varying degrees of joy.

“Oh, hello!” Nihil chimes, his eyes flicking to Sister and then the women once more. “I do not think we have had the pleasure of meeting, no?” The women smile at him, the one in the front walking forward and daringly placing a hand on his arm.

“We were in the crowd, Papa. You were unreal!” She smiles at him, her toothy grin making his own smile widen. Sister watches as the other two women walk closer, closely inspecting his wide white eye that shined intriguingly off in the shaky light of the bulb above them.

“Your eye is so beautiful, how do you get it like that?” The woman’s nude lips are wide, her arms wrapped around herself in a way that allowed her to push her tits further together. Sister frowned, her stomach roiling with annoyance. Good grief, just get it over with. Have him grab you by the hips and fuck you in his hotel room, leave the next morning and giggle about it with your girlfriends.

“A gift, bella.” Nihil purred, his hand rising to cup the second woman’s face. Her eyes widen, her cheeks filling out with a flush as he giggles at her. As much as Sister wants to move, she can’t stop. She hadn’t been wooed, as much as she was loath to admit it. Always the one to walk forward first, she had led Nihil along like a puppy on a leash. Of course she loved it, admired how much he turned to her. Either for kindness or guidance, for a fuck on the road late at night, she remained. But had he ever cornered her backstage and let him lick the sweat from her neck without her gripping him by the lapel?

“A gift? Not meaning to bug out or anything, but the speech you gave on stage was unreal. We’d love to hear more.” Ah, the usual segue. Begging for guidance on the Old One’s beliefs and then fucking at his metaphorical altar. She didn’t care anymore, she couldn’t stand to listen. It was one thing to see it at the hotel last month, another to hear him imply it earlier, but she couldn’t take the scene in front of her.

Sister turned, pushing gently past the woman at his side and walking past the gaggle. She walks briskly down the way.

“Mi dispiace belle signore , but I am unfortunately on a tight schedule. Perhaps you could ask one of the ghouls? I’m sure they would be more than happy to speak to such pretty fanciulle.” She can hear the groans of the other women, and the click of their heels as they walk away. The urge to pause and look is strong, but who knows why he did it? Nihil could have already got his rocks off with someone on the way, or the chance of another rendezvous already scheduled. Fool her once, shame on you. Fool her twice, shame on her. She’s already gotten through a third time, and a fourth would just be pathetic.

She turns the corner to the dressing room, thankfully clear. The packing up tended to go quicker than setting up, so hopefully things were going to plan. Sister still needed to check in, but first she wanted a damn cigarette. She walks across the room, leaning against the couch and looking behind where she had kept it. A growl released from her throat, couldn’t she have anything go right tonight? She wouldn’t cry. She knew better than that. But the tightness in her throat was beginning to hurt, the anger from earlier receding. And the sickly green feeling in the pit of her stomach was back, mocking and ugly.

A knock behind her, soft and gentle. She didn’t turn, knowing the click of his boot heels as familiar as her childhood home doorbell.

“Tesoro?” A soft voice calls into the room, loud in the now silent room. Warm earlier with the countless bodies, the lack makes her skin cold under the long draped sleeves of her mini dress. Even adverse to the company of others, she wishes that someone was here to pillow the moment with a stranger's presence.

“There’s no need to speak so quietly, Papa. We’re the only two here.” Sister says plainly, pushing the emotion out of her voice. All of this because of jealousy towards some fan? Out of all the shows she could have gotten upset over, this is the one? How demeaning.

“I am aware we’re alone. I see you after all my shows, yes?” She doesn’t turn to look at him, but his hands come to her hips behind her. Imperator stills, the hot sticky feeling in her stomach still there. Why couldn’t she just let it go? Out of all the times she had seen the way he acted, why is now the time she chose to turn her back?

“Not all of them.” The accusation hangs in the air, Nihil’s hands tight on her hips through the silk of the dress. The heat of his palm almost scalds her, he burns as hot as the sun, a constant inferno that scorches her when she touches him. It burrows into her flesh, finding nirvana in the way he fits inside her. The thought is swiftly cut off as he sighs into her ear, the shell warming with the outtake of breath. She doesn’t move.

“Si, not all of them. Concerts can be stressful, after parties and such. But do I not come back to your bed?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Imperator yanked herself out of his grip. She walks across the room, looking into the dressers of the cabinet for her purse. She could just get her purse and walk out, back to the hotel. As soon as this Ghost Project was over, she could go back to her comfortable office and deal with this from the back burner. No more Nihil, no more bastard children, no more goddamned groupies.

“Indeed you do.” The words grind out of her mouth like a knife on stone, slamming the drawer closed and straightening up from where she had been crouched down. The heels click against the floor quickly, and she gasps once she feels the warmth of his torso pushed against hers, her back pushed against the dresser quickly. She can feel the ledge of the small desk pushed against the small of her back. Sister looks up towards him, the placid look on her face crumbling into something sour, and surly, and she has to stop herself from pushing him away and leaving without her purse.

The words had never been said aloud by her. Late nights where she imagined Nihil fucking her with abandon, taking her from behind and treating her like one of the sweet little things that came to pray at his altar. It lingered in the atmosphere until she saw a scene like earlier, like a rubber band being pulled tighter and tighter until the middle burned hot from heat. White hot heat settled in between the space between her and Nihil, in the impasse of their stares. Always looking, across a room or when she kissed the overstimulated tears from below his eyes in the night.

There is understanding finally in his eyes. The crystal clear realization that maybe his actions did matter, through the smoke and haze of the lights above him as he sang and crooned to women who had never even conceptualized an existence beyond a white picket fence. Maybe he had finally crossed the line that had always been there.

(Maybe, everything has always been filled with maybes between the two of them).

“ Innamorata… Maybe I have not been so attentive.” He says softly, his gaze never wavers. That infernal eye never moves from its impassive gaze. His hands grip her waist, and she glares. She feels it like a warm hand against her throat, and she banishes the thought.

“Attentive? There are things you want… an inexperienced fuck in a cheap hotel room with a fan that doesn’t even know where her clit is. By all means, go for it.” She spits out, the words scraping out of her throat by the fine edge of a knife: the same knife has plunged into her back countless times during this tour. Pardoned by their own lord, sanctified in blood and sin, and here they were.

“Oh? You think I don’t smell it, tesoro? It’s dripping off of you.” His hand slides from her hip to her cunt, a gasp ripping itself from her throat as he cups it softly through her dress. She knows him, knows the way his eye glows, the way his cock is pressed against her leg and how it throbs hot, hard, natural. Oh, and it feels good. Feels, she finds, even better as he rubs the palm of his hand against it.

“Dripping off of you, dripping out of you? I can think of many things I want to fill you with.” Nihil chisels a space into the emptiness between them, rasping out a groan into her neck as the silk of her dress catches on slick between her legs. She should push him away, but it feels too good to have him take the lead. It’s burning, hotter than the fires of hell they pledge to have when they leave this mortal plane. When it all burns down, it is always captivating and aposematic.

Through the back and forth of his hand Imperator can feel him lean forward, his mouth latching onto the soft molten skin of her neck. He lifts his other hand not busied with the soft skin below, grabbing the burning flesh of her breast. She has to stop this, take control. She isn’t a woman begging to be let backstage, flashing her tits at the bouncer and hoping that he’ll press his face between her legs. His mouth is an ember compared to the blaze in his eyes, lavascapes in the stark whiteness of blue and white. She could burn, she realized, but she leans into the hand pressing into her softest places.

Papa’s mouth is soft against the dewy skin of Sister’s neck, the paint so delicately applied earlier is no doubt a parting gift against the paleness of her skin. His breath ghosts against her skin, pulling away. And she pouts at the loss, ichor rushing through her veins. She never quite understood the meaning of hunger until she met Nihil, a hunger for a man and not power. He rips open a vacuum inside of her, a festering hole that is utterly insatiable. A constant ache that drives her delirious with the urge to consume him with her gaping maw. Rapacious charm, never full.

“How long have you wanted this? For me to take you like a slut?” The words drag over his tongue, and she’s alarmed by the moan pushing its way from her mouth. No, this has never happened. A step closer, her blood burns. The green feeling in her stomach has uprooted itself, destroyed in the endless warmth of his gaze. From where it had been clotted in her throat, for months upon months on tour, and it’s gone.

He smiles, leaning down and finally taking her mouth in his. His lips are firm, pressing against hers with a deliberate force that she hasn’t experienced. Is this what these women have been packing at the door for? They had surely kissed, but it was her biting and forcing her way into the soft cavern of his mouth. But at this moment, his mouth doesn’t rest. She presses against him, her arms reaching around his neck and pulling him closer. Her hands shake around his neck, the pulsing of wetness and warmth between her legs dizzying. It jars her, head gummy and full of sin. These women wanted this.

Their mouths press together, Nihil’s tongue pushing against hers in a sloppy push and pull of slickness. He tastes like sin, cigarettes and the heady tang of peppermint gum. He’s rough, a palpable hunger that pulls the last threads of jealousy from her mind. Papa pulls away, his eyes sharper than Sister had ever seen them. A yawning abyss of knowledge, and then she remembers. Women came to him for a reason, an unknown that would snap at the tips of their fingers if they got too close. And Nihil smiles, his hips pushing against hers and a sigh falling past his parted lips. It’s messy, adrenaline from onstage clearly pulsing through the fog of his mind.

“Do I interest you? Is that why you haven’t set me aside?” His voice is harsh, his eyes lidded and heavy.

“I could ask the same.” Her head is a slurry of pleasure, her clit throbbing where it meets the harsh bulge of his cock and the back and forth of silk against her body. It’s messy, less defined than anything she had ever allowed to happen. The backstage fumblings of curious women and-

“Shush.” He makes a noise, condescending and somehow sweet like a cocktail at the dingy bars they had performed at. It punches into her, makes her gasp. Her hips stutter, she’s never seen a sight more damning. If she had been more stupid, she could imagine herself in a crowd. Peering up at him, a smile tugging at her lips and watching him thrust against the mic stand. And by Satan, she realizes it. The brutality of it makes her crush her lips against his, tongue sliding against the wetness of his own slippery muscle. There is embarrassment of course, and there is shame. But she wants it, the horrible emptiness inside of her that wants to let him treat her like a slut. A groupie begging on her knees, her back, for his tongue and cock to complete her.

His hands return to her hips, lifting her onto the desk without breaking the kiss. The embers spar, blazing, when he deepens the kiss and presses the bulge of his cock into her pussy. She shivers, a whole body chill that has her breaking the kiss and moaning into the air. “Please.” It’s a plea, a whimper that she has never once spoken aloud to Nihil. And the way he chuckles, biting her lip with ravenous hunger that reminds her of the blood that courses through his veins, has her pushing back against him. She can’t resist, she wouldn’t even try.

“Oh, please?” His voice sings, a derisive coo that makes her keen. He pulls back, his hands lifting her dress to reveal the pale pink briefs beneath. Nihil crouches, kneeling before her and running his hands over her soft thighs. A sigh, and a kiss pressed against the pliable porcelain before him. He had spent hours before, his head pressed between her thighs while she gripped his hair in a domineering grip as she took her pleasure from him. But now simply gripped the edges of the table, her wide eyes meeting his as he grazes his knuckles against the soft skin. Nihil sighs, shaking his head.

“Have you thought about my head between their legs, tesoro?” The question is clipped, a grin on his face as he lets his palm glide up and down her legs. A hesitant nod, and her legs quake as Papa Nihil presses a kiss to her inner thigh. He lathes his tongue over the small scar at the influx of her thigh. Another whimper pours out as he peppers kisses against her, and she can’t tear her eyes away from his cocky grin. She should hate this, should be pulling him away and reprimanding him for taking control. But with the way he grips her thighs and the way she drips onto the table, she knows she loves this. Sister mewls as Nihil inches further, his eyes meeting her own.

“I will take my pleasure from you the same as I do from them.” He murmurs, his mouth latching onto her skin. Her hands grip into the desk tightly, keening as he meets her gaze. “A powerful woman, la mia dea. But a slut all the same, begging for my cock.” He growls, and she moans as he presses the flat arch of his painted nose against her clit, his tongue tracing circles into the slickness of her pussy.

Moans fill the silence of the room, muffled groaning and the slick movement of his mouth against her creating a back and forth cacophony of sin. Nihil’s hands against her thighs continue their back and forth as he takes his fill, his eyes closed in satisfaction. Sister whines as the sucking against her clit intensifies, his tongue swiping against her entrance. The hand against her leg moves, a finger dropping and dipping lightly at her dripping cunt, lightly swirling around the slickness collecting there. She bites her lip, catching the moan that bubbles out of her throat at the way he slurps at her cunt.

His eyes shoot open, meeting her own with his mismatched gaze. He pulls back, his mouth unlatching from her pulsing clit while his fingers continue toying with her. “Don’t keep your noises from me, I want to hear.” Papa’s finger slides inside, and Sister chokes out a gasp. “Do you think these women hold back their pleasure? Have you not pulled similar noises from me while you choke down my cock, tesoro? ” She should be angry, she thinks to herself, but she can hardly think after he pushes two fingers into her utterly drenched entrance. He grazes a knuckle against a spot inside her, a high moan punching out of her throat as her walls flutter around him.

“Nihil, I-” Sister Imperator gasps, her lips swollen and her lipstick rubbed off even earlier than now. He pulls his fingers away, and she moans in complaint. His eyes blaze with ire, his frown making her stomach clench in distraught anticipation. He rubs his fingers over her entrance, toying with the slick collected there.

Nihil shakes his head, pressing a chaste kiss to her clit. “That is not my name. What am I called?” She whines, thinking back to the times they’ve fucked. It had been either Nihil, slut, or even my love. Never had it been-

“Papa.” She whispers, his lips raising in appreciation. To everyone else, it’s Papa. His fingers slide back inside, the curls of his breath over her soaked pussy making her eyes roll back. Her hair knocking against the wall was probably a mess, her once perfect beehive now more of a honeycomb. While his tongue sucks against her raised clit, his fingers continue to coax burning pleasure that made her thighs shake. She can feel her lips are bitten raw, her knees pressed against her chest and exposing herself to him entirely. She should blush, she’s sure everyone else does, but his huffs and moans of pleasure persuade her to moan.

She whimpers, and all thoughts are stuck in the burning mess in her head, rendered out into ashes and into cries for Papa, for more. It’s all a puddle of bliss, including her. His fingers brush against a spot inside that makes her cry out, a wail that she’s sure can be heard outside of the room. The thought is knocked out of her head as the pads of his fingers bump into it again, coupled with Papa’s tongue swiping against her bud. Oh, how she needed this, for him to just show that he knew how to please.

She feels his lips curl against her clit and a muffled chuckle that makes her gasp, Coy, sweet, the type of mocking grin that he shot the crowd at the end of his show. He pulls back, fingers pistoning against her fluttering pussy, “Are you going to cum already, cara ? I thought you were a seasoned slut, opening your legs for any man with an ounce of talent?” He chuckles darkly, timbre drenched in sex and promise. She grits her teeth, eyes narrowing in a defiant glare that dissolves as he begins to softly lap at her clit. Sister wants to scoff, to roll her eyes but the breadth of his shoulders spreading her legs wide and the ministrations on her cunt cut the words on her tongue short.

He circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, lapping softly and moaning against it as he closes his eyes. The makeup around his mouth is smeared, his lips shining with her slick and his spit. His mouth is molten, and she can feel her weeping hole clench around his fingers. It’s hot, the high collar of her dress collecting sweat. It’s messy, the opposite of the nakedness she was used to with him. Debauched, wanton, desperate for him. The desperation is tangible.

“Show me how much you want my cock.” He growls into her cunt, nuzzling his cheek into her thigh as his fingers increase their speed. Imperator moans, her thighs shaking as she feels her climax approach much more quickly than usual. At the speed of his fingers, she can feel the delicious burn of pleasure that nears so deliciously into pain, a wire pulled taut and begging to be released. She arches, canting her hips greedily into his mouth. If he weren't so intent on making her cum, she’s sure he would be grinning like the damn dirty tease he is.

A particular curl of his fingers sends her over the edge, his tongue laving over her clit and his fingers fucking dangerously harshly against the sweet spot inside of her that has her choking out a moan. She can feel the rings of cum wetting her thighs, the spit that coats her lower half. She can’t help but whimper when she crests the wave, an embarrassing litany of pleads for her Papa, a melted husk of a woman drunk on the high of her orgasm.

Sister can feel the way he presses kisses into her thighs, the way his fingers have been pulled out of her and she cries at the need for him inside of her. Nothing where she rides him for control, where he begs and whimpers for her to let him cum. She lets her eyes fall open, a quavering moan from her mouth whenever she witnesses him suck her cum from his fingers. His eyes blaze as he stands above her, his mouth stretched wide into a grin that makes her heart swell.

Sister’s eyes flick down, where his bulge pushes against the black leather of his bellbottoms. Her hands shoot forward and reach for the laces, if not a bit clumsily trying to pick apart the laces. She knows he aches for it, and can feel him twitching against the confines of his trousers. His hand drops down, and Papa smiles down at her with a fond, if not condescending, smirk.

Her hands pull the laces apart, a joined moan between the two of them as his swollen cock pops out. The head of his cock is red, smeared with sticky spend at the tip that aids her as she begins to pump him leisurely. He sighs, a hand gathering in her hair as she looks up at him. “You do such a good job pleasing Papa, you know?” She nods quickly, her hand not slowing. Just as she finds a rhythm, his hands have shot out to stop her. The hardness of his cock in her hand makes the emptiness inside her known, aching even. He steps between her legs, craning her head upward towards him.

“Will you let Papa fuck you?” He whispers, stepping forward to rub his cock against her soaked folds. A whine forces its way from her throat. God, she just wants him, any way at any time. To say she’s been denying it would be an understatement. She needed him, wanted him near her always. It’s easy to worship him, she thinks to herself through the delirious haze of his weight against her cunt. Easy to kiss offerings into his skin, sing a hymn of praise into the dips of his neck.

“Yes, Papa.” A whisper, heavy and breathless. The way she addresses him makes him moan helplessly, and there’s nowhere else to burn eternally than with one another. Leaning closer, the head of his cock nudges inside her, popping in with such ease that it makes the both of them pause in the sheer buzz of skin on skin. Sister leans back, allowing herself to moan as she feels the heavy weight of him inside her. Nihil chokes on his gasp, pushing slowly inside of her. The head of his dick pushing against something soft in her cunt that makes her clench around him with a whimper.

The cloying feeling of him on top of her, inside her, makes her keen. Why had she fought this for so long, for the treatment he gave other women? The very feeling of him inside her is dizzying, the way he hovers above her with a self satisfied smile makes her match it. The fuzzy feeling in her stomach returns, her heart lifting from the well it had drifted to earlier. Control was something she had vied for, and couldn't let go. The ebb and sway of how he would let her control him, and this is where he got his kicks. Maybe now he could find his respite within her as well.

Nihil moans, rolling his hips into hers in a way that makes her eyes roll back. The thrusts are slow, a back and forth that knocks the air from her lungs in the most delicious way. Each time he retreats he comes back home, the tip of his cock kissing the place inside of her that makes her legs lock around his waist tightly. Strings of pleasure lick up her spine, her nipples hard underneath the fabric of her dress. She can smell the heady smell of sex in the air, the wetness between the two of them slick in the cool air of the dressing room. Maybe everyone would hear, hear how he fucked her like a woman, like any woman out there in the crowd.

His hair is soft beneath her hands, moussed from the sweat of the stage and his lingering adrenaline and the many times she had already gripped it in the space between the two of them.

“So good for me, you take me so well Sister,” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against her lips in a salacious lick against bitten lips. He tips his head forward as Sister clenches around him, his thrusts grinding his cock into her pussy in a way that makes white hot pleasure tickle her spine. She combs over his face, his perfectly debauched makeup sliding down the smoothness of his skin. A thought passes about what he may look like when he’s older, how the makeup will pool in a similar way perhaps.

As she clenches around him his dick twitches in agreement, his eyes lidded in pleasure as he continues to fuck her. A hazardous grin spreads across his smeared lips when he catches her gaze, his eyes sweeping over her bent form as he continues to fuck her, spread out and stretched over his thick cock. Anyone can hear her, she realizes, can hear how badly she wants her Papa to fill her cunt, to make her cum, how good he is at making women achieve hedonistic pleasure. A star frontman, an experienced lover.

He grins, and she can feel his cock brush against a soft spot inside of her that makes her positively wail. His hand drops from where it’s clenched around her thigh, thumb swiping over her clit and she groans, needy and breathless. Sister’s hips work with his own, Nihil’s hips knocking against the silky walls of her cunt. His head brushes deep, her back arching in pleasure that makes her quiver in a profoundly intense ache. As his hand works over her throbbing clit and his hips batter against the meat of her ass, Nihil leans over. A kiss pressed to her neck, a stream of moans into her ear dredged up from a place of love and desperation.

“Will you cum for me?” A whisper into her ear, a fervent nod answered back. Her heart flutters, a taut softness as she feels her toes curl. It pinches taut as he angles his hips, tendrils of pleasure as he pushes his cock further in. In a moment like this, she couldn’t give a damn about a groupie, some faithless devotee. The devotion is right here and right now, between the one at the altar and the abnormality present.

“Please. I want to be your whore,” Sister whispers, haze filling the curtain of her gaze as she feels the pleasure ratcheting higher and higher. Papa Nihil feels similarly, she knows this, the desperate high moans against her neck as he visibly fights the urge to call out for her like normal.

A vicious swipe against her clit sends her over, liquid bliss spuming deep within her and setting her off. The rhythmic clenching of her softness around his cock makes him gasp, his breath choked in her throat as he cums deep inside her. She sighs, eyes slipping closed as he sighed against her neck. Her hands rose to his back, slow careful swipes of her hands on his shirt as he heaved for air.

The air was warm, and she could feel their shared spend dripping down from her hole onto the floor. The sickly green feeling in her stomach was gone, filled with the deliciously delightful feeling of Nihil in her arms, his hands warm against her waist. When he quiets by the end of her gentle petting, the mushy misty eyed look in her eyes won’t leave. An odd juxtaposition for a woman who could bring Nihil down to size in a matter of moments.

“You don’t suppose I could have a cigarette after this?” She mumbled, smiling softly as she heard a muffled laugh against her neck. Pulling back, they looked at one another. His makeup was ruined, as was hers most likely. Though they still had the drive back to the hotel to fare with, nothing delighted her more than knowing she could curl up in bed delightfully moisturized and nestled against Nihil. And looking into his eyes, she knew he was just as enchanted at the ending of their night together. His hand drifted to her cheek, his eyes soft in a way that made her stomach flip.

“Never again, Genevieve. I promise.” And she knew he wasn’t talking about cigarettes. He whispered, a delicate kiss pressed against the tip of her nose. His hand was warm, and she leaned into the soft embrace of it against her dreadfully sweaty cheek. Although her heart jumped at her given name, the irony of it in her current religion a mockery to her sensibilities, Sister sighed.

The sickly feeling of envy an ever looming fear now, she knew she could push through. Though he had two children now, the fear of a third, even a fourth was gone. He was hers, and she was his, even through the possibility of another Prime Mover. Satan forbid a groupie try to coax their way into his pants in the future.

The thought passed with a drop of disdain in her eyes, and a smile making its way onto her kiss swollen lips. All these months of sweat soaked nights on a bumpy bus, a hand held out in a busy afterparty, the soft breath against her neck as she held him close. A hand held in another hand with care, with no fear to be found.

“Of course. Never again.”

#the band ghost #ghost the band #my writing #mdni #sister imperator #young sister imperator #papa nihil #young papa nihil #papa nihil x sister imperator #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #rite here rite now #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #the other two haven't been popped out yet

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darsynia · 5 months ago

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Don't Read the Last Page (Tony Stark/Engineer!Reader multichapter)

Summary: Your friend Nat claims her plan to distract Tony Stark with her sex appeal isn't working, so she wants you to do it with your brain--and a sexy red dress. Things start out completely over your head and get more complicated when SHIELD becomes involved.

Length/Warnings: 3,500 | none (future smut!)

Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Next

Excerpt:

“Put on a persona, if you have to. The one I chose, okay, yes, sex kitten, but-- and don’t laugh,” Nat sighs. “I’ve been playing it so straight, Cat. I thought sure he’d break, but it’s almost like he can tell that I know it’s innuendo? And by now it’s a game of chicken, and the man is too stubborn to lose. He’ll never back down.”

You can’t help the little smile of pride in the idea that the man you’ve been crushing on for so long can hold up against an onslaught like that, even though you haven’t ever met Tony Stark. Natasha is painfully gorgeous.

“So, what? You need me to be the Cat to your kitten?” you tease.

“Actually, yes.”

Chapter One: Alice In Wonderland

“Nat, you cannot be serious,” you say, holding your cell phone to your ear with your shoulder as you frown at the computer screen in front of you. The water temperature calculations in the unit you’re designing are all wrong, and you’d hoped to finish the associated code by tonight.

“You said you’d freelance for me, and I need you. Believe me, I’m as surprised as you are.” Natasha’s voice is every bit as dry as it always is, but today there’s a strong undercurrent of irritation that you hardly ever hear. “I can tell he’s interested, but I actually think the sex kitten thing is somehow overboard. I don’t think he’s going to go for me, but I can read him like a book. He definitely wants a connection, and I can’t risk him ending up with someone else. Bottom line: I need you.”

“I can’t believe you’re using drunken confidences against me right now! I have shit to do!” You were whining a little, but when your friend had joked that she might someday ask you to do some favors for the shadowy governmental agency she works for, you thought it was going to be related to computers, not the billionaire tech genius you’ve secretly crushed on for years.

“I think the hard to get thing might really work. Look, what we need is a sexy delaying tactic. You’re not going to have to sleep with him. You just need to catch his eye and keep him from doing anything really stupid with a woman at this birthday party. He’s feeling his mortality, Cat. We don’t want him to FIND it.”

“I still can’t believe that you, Miss Manipulation, have failed at doing it yourself,” you tease, saving your work and standing up.

“I overcompensated. It would have worked with the man in the file, but he’s not that guy anymore. Can I pick you up at 7?”

You pause in the act of shutting the light off in your office. “Woah, hold on. That was ‘wrapping up the conversation’ language. I have no idea what to wear, how to behave, where--”

“Shy sexy engineer, shy sexy engineer, Tony Stark’s Malibu mansion. I’ll pick you up.”

“Nat!” you protest, but the line has gone dead. The mirror you’ve hung on the other side of the reception desk helpfully reminds you that you’ll need to wear some extra concealer under your eyes, tonight. You’ve been pulling some late nights with this project. Productive ones, sure, but late.

The concept is one of the most ambitious that your small design firm has taken on so far, but you’re passionate about it. The group of investors’ idea was simple: create a kiosk that can help eliminate the waste of single-use water bottles on college campuses. Students sign up and receive a BPA-free reusable water bottle that fits into any of the multiple stations placed around the campus, based on population and traffic patterns. In exchange for watching a few ads for a minute, their bottle is sanitized and filled with clean, cold, purified water for free. Companies can buy the ad space, and hopefully, if the project takes off, all that will be needed is the initial capital and a few fees for maintenance and water, paid for by the college itself.

In theory, your small company made up of five friends with various engineering degrees definitely has the expertise to bring the concept into reality. In practice, it’s a lot bigger of a project than you had initially thought, especially now that a few schools in the area have been contacted by the investors to see if they’d be interested in being the pilot school.

It’s far more coding than you’d anticipated, for one thing, and you’re the only one with the expertise to write it. You’ve got to finish this up, commit it, and then see if it actually works on the prototype in the back room, ideally before noon tomorrow. In a very real way, it’s your reputation, your name on the line if the company can’t deliver, for all that you’re not the face of the company. You’ve got Alan for that part. The stress has been bad enough that you stopped going by your business name in public completely, reverting back to the fanciful name you’d given yourself when you daydreamed about having a secret royal history.

You’ve shortened it to ‘Cat’ nowadays, since you’re not royal, though you are secretive.

Even though you’re not really one for parties, you are curious about what a Stark party would be like. He’s ramped back his playboy lifestyle since miraculously returning from three months in that cave. Not all the way, though, you recall, because there was something in Monaco not that long ago, but you weren’t interested in Stark for that stuff anyway. You crush on his brain, really, though the rest of the package isn’t tough on the eyes.

If you’re honest, you’d been kind of glad that he’d gotten more serious and less reckless lately, so hearing Nat talk about him ‘feeling his mortality’ makes you worried, in a strange way. Ever since you were in high school, coming up on ten years ago, he’s been your celebrity crush, the person you kept an eye on, looked for references in all the magazines. You’re not really a celebrity watcher, but for the most part, Stark is different from an actor or sports guy. In your opinion, for a man with such innovative intelligence, his playboy lifestyle is as much of a waste of his talents as designing weapons. He’s done with the latter, but seems to be having trouble dropping the former.

Checking your watch, you sigh. It’s already five, and you need a shower. As you turn toward the stairs that lead up to the door to your apartment, you catch another glimpse of yourself in the mirror. God, you need a haircut.

“The only thing Tony Stark is going to do when he sees you is wonder who let in the mousy wallflower,” you groan. You never were a flashy, ‘draw all eyes when you walk in the door’ kind of girl, even though you do have a flair for picking clothes that accentuate your build. Still, the mirror is telling some home truths that you don’t appreciate right now, so you flip it off, holding your hand in that position as you walk up the stairs and tap out your code for the door.

An hour and a half later, and you’re in a push-up bra, matching panties, and a complete freak-out spiral. You have three dresses to choose from, and none of them are right, and you don’t have time to do anything else than pick one. You’re about to do the thing where you hang them in three different places in your room and spin around with your eyes shut till you stop with your finger pointed out, when you hear the front door opening.

It can only be one person, but you still grab your oversized white bathrobe and pull it on before you call out to her.

“Help, I am a damsel in serious distress. De-stress me, Natasha!”

“You need more friends if I’m who you would turn to for that,” Natasha says. She’s wearing a tight gray dress that, while stunning, doesn’t look like a party frock at all.

“Wait, is there a party? Because that is NOT what you of all people would wear to one. This is not a ‘you’ party dress. Particularly not if you’re… what did you call it? Trying to ‘sex kitten’ Tony Stark!” you protest, crossing your arms against the thick terry cloth of your robe.

“Settle,” Natasha says, but her lips curl up into a kind of a secret smile. “The party’s later, and I have to go in early. My boss wanted to talk to you a little bit beforehand.”

You back up and fall back onto your bed. “No, no, no, you’ve told me about your boss. He’s badass and terrifying.” Your tone turns whiny, then resolute. “I have stuff to do, Nat! I am reneging, right here, right now.”

Even as you say the words, your inner fangirl screams at you. No way do you want to miss the chance to be in the same room as Tony Stark, even if it means you have to withstand being glared at by Nat’s one-eyed scary spy boss.

“No, you’re not. Because I need you, and you will never forgive yourself.” Natasha is, as always, completely self-assured in the face of your frantic protestations. You’ll never forget the crazy way the two of you met, when she’d ducked into your store and frowned, confused, when she’d seen the empty racks for what had used to be a clothing store. After taking in her tight pleather fighting outfit, you’d thought fast, taking off your white hooded sweatshirt and tossing it to her. Natasha had put it on right away and you’d sat on the receptionist’s desk you were setting up, pulling open a folder and leaning over as if to present a proposal to a person sitting at the desk. She’d vaulted over the desk in a truly spectacular move, seating herself and zipping up the sweatshirt just in time.

The door had opened seconds later, revealing a tall, burly, terrifying-looking man in tradesmen’s clothing. “We’re closed!” you’d called out, and he’d grunted, looking around a few seconds before leaving.

“What about this one?” Nat says, from deep inside your closet. She emerges with a red dress that you’d bought once on a deep discount and then hidden in the closet, too embarrassed to picture yourself ever actually wearing it in public. It’s skin-tight, and the neckline/straps make up a bold X that crosses your chest in a brighter red than the rest of the fabric. Under the X is a second stylized X that stretches up to make a diamond gap between the two. The cut-out gives a daring glimpse of the lower curves of your breasts before the second X continues down to hug your hips. The damned thing continues its ‘high fashion’ nonsense in an angled cut just below your knees, except for where it slices up into a slit on your left leg, making a third, smaller X.

“I can’t wear a bra with that, Nat!” you hiss, even as you take the hanger and look at it. “Not to mention the fact that it’s literally a triple-X dress!”

“Just tell your inner self you’re living the dream?”

“I can’t believe I ever told you about having a crush on him. You know I’ll never trust you with anything ever again?” you gripe.

“Put on the dress, I don’t want to be late.”

It’s Stark’s favorite color, and actually fits perfectly. After you touch up your makeup to make it a bit more aggressive, with red lipstick that matches the dress (the one concession you’d made to someday choosing to wear it. The color’s been taunting you in your makeup bag since you’d come home with the damned thing), you’re actually feeling like a confident, capable person.

“That’s right,” Natasha says, coming up behind you and making eye contact with you in the mirror. “Put on a persona, if you have to. The one I chose, okay, yes, sex kitten, but-- and don’t laugh,” she sighs. “I’ve been playing it so straight, Cat. I thought sure he’d break, but it’s almost like he can tell that I know it’s innuendo? And by now it’s a game of chicken, and the man is too stubborn to lose. He’ll never back down.”

“So, what? You need me to be the Cat to your kitten?” you tease.

“Actually, yes.”

“Okay, I’ll wear this, but I’m not comfortable with the message the top… everything this dress is sending, so...” you say, and head over to the closet. On the way, you notice how you’re walking with more sway to your hips, like you can’t help yourself. You definitely feel like someone else, someone more bold, maybe? It’ll crumble completely if you were faced with the man himself, not that you probably will. Even with your assets on display like this, you’re still you, shy but tenacious, a ‘watch and learn’ kind of girl. Basically the opposite of his type. After years of spending time with every kind of woman, all of whom are begging for his attention, Stark will probably look past you like you’re not even there.

In the closet you find the long rectangular gold scarf/shawl your aunt had given you for Christmas what feels like fifty years ago. It’s still new in its rolled up package, and when you pull it out, you realize that its crinkled texture hides the folds perfectly. With the shawl wrapped around your shoulders in just the right way, the dress doesn’t look anywhere near as indecent as it did without. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time as you slip on your shoes, and the whole ‘sexy dress, demure shawl’ thing almost seems like a metaphor for the ‘hidden depths’ your family always joked that you have.

They wouldn’t appreciate these particular ‘depths,’ though. The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you look very different from your normal self. If everything crashes and burns, you can just pretend it wasn’t you, right?

“Okay, I’m convinced. Give him one glimpse of what’s under there and he’ll definitely be distracted,” Natasha says with a smirk.

“I bet he won’t even look in my direction,” you tell her as the two of you walk down the stairs and onto the store floor. It is, of course, devoid of the clothes racks that had been there when Natasha had barged into her accidentally unlocked door, that day. Now, eighteen months later, there’s hardly any customer-facing space at all, with double-high cube shelving separating the small lobby area from her colleagues’ workspaces. It’s cozy, but your company does decent business, and you’re proud of how far it’s come since then.

“I’ll take that bet,” Natasha says, pushing the door open with her ass and smiling a secret, knowing smile. “If he talks to you within the first half hour, you owe me my favorite take-out.”

The place in question is basically impossible to park at, meaning if you lose, you’ll have to park fifteen minutes away to pick up the food. However, you picture the kinds of parties you’ve seen in magazines, with beautiful people all crammed together in a darkened room, and can’t help but feel confident. You don’t have the money, the attitude, or the clout to draw the attention of someone like Tony Stark.

“You’re on.”

When you get to a nondescript office building and park, Nat assures you that there’ll be a car coming to pick you up and waves you into the building. Once you’re inside, you see a man standing with his back to you, his long black trench coat doing all the work for him.

“Nice to finally meet you, Catriona,” he says, still faced away. “Or should I call you Cat?”

“Feeling more like the mouse today,” you say, disconcerted that he knows your 'secret identity.'

“Don’t worry, you’re not prey. Not for me, anyway. Natasha tells me you were up to do her a favor,” he says, finally turning. He’s wearing an actual eye patch, and the front of him is every bit as badass-intimidating as the back of his black boots and coat had implied.

“You know technically, she owes me,” you point out. “And, is this a safe house? Wait-- don’t tell me anything top secret. I like my life. I don’t want to be in the witness protection program.”

You’re babbling, which is the other side of your extreme lock-up, ‘freeze and hope no one notices you’ coping mechanism.

“Nothing we’re asking you to do is at witness protection level. Just be beautiful, enigmatic, and smart.”

You can feel a blush rising on your face. “Uh, maybe I have the wrong building?”

“You think I’d let you in here if I didn’t know everything there is to know about you?”

Your stomach drops. “Can we start over? We can do the introduction part, and then I can find the floor I’m actually supposed to be on, and we can forget this ever--”

“Cat…” the man says, adding more gravitas to the name than you have in the decade-plus you’ve used it. “--did you know for the first few months, I thought you were an actual feline? You’ve been good for Natasha. Grounded her in the real world. She made me promise not to scare the shit out of you, and I think I’ve failed,” the man says. “My name is Nick Fury. I run an organization called SHIELD. We’ve had our eye on Stark for a while, mostly because we’d like to make sure he doesn’t implode and take half of the security of the country with him. We’re coming up on a delicate time, and I need to know I can count on you.”

You are starting to feel a little woozy. Fury can tell, you think, because he walks over, passes you to head into an alcove by the door, and comes out with a small chair. Even though you’re standing in what amounts to a darkened lobby, he places it right in the middle and gestures. You sit, because the alternative is to try to run out of here in heels, and if you did that, Natasha would make fun of you until the end of time. It’s really unfair of her, honestly.

“The bottom line, young lady, is that Stark’s a ladies' man, but his tastes are changing. Time was, he would have gone all in on someone like the character Natasha’s currently playing, but now, who knows?” Fury sighs. “Making his PA the CEO was actually one of the most brilliant ideas the man’s had since Afghanistan. But not if they’re going to be involved. That was what Natasha was supposed to deflect him from.”

“Wait,” you say, straightening up in the chair. “I’m just going to a party. I get to look pretty and be ignored by my celebrity crush. That’s it.” You’re shaking. Everything has escalated far more quickly than you ever could have expected, and you don’t even think taxis know about the building you’re currently freaking out in. You feel trapped, even though your faith in Natasha is strong enough that you don’t feel in any physical danger.

“Of course,” Fury says expansively. “I’m just letting you know what’s at stake.”

He’s trying to use your innate sense of responsibility to influence you, and while you’re offended, you’re also kind of impressed.

“I see why you’re the boss, anyway,” you mutter. Then, louder, you add, “But you’re not my boss. I’m self-employed. And not in the ‘boss babe’ kind of way.”

“I can respect that,” Fury says. He spins around to start pacing, heading away from you, before turning around and coming halfway back to stop and look at you. “I am not asking you to do anything you wouldn’t already feel comfortable doing.”

“That is such a line,” you blurt out, twisting your hands in your lap. “What if I tell you I’m not comfortable holding this conversation, or knowing the things you’ve already told me?”

“That is manifestly obvious. It’s also what makes you perfect for the thing I’m asking you to do.”

“What are you asking me to do?” you demand, the words coming out in a choked gasp. You’re so out of your element you can barely breathe, and the worst part is, Fury’s instincts are spot on. You feel a sense of responsibility, not just to Natasha, but to Stark. He's the sort of person who shows up in the news as often for a dazzling tech breakthrough as for a catastrophic break-up... or a kidnapping.

“Be yourself. In the process, give Tony Stark someone intriguing to focus on. Someone who isn’t his CEO. Think of it as helping him diversify.”

“If I called you a pimp right now, would you throw me out?” you ask, standing up and squaring your shoulders. You’ve always lashed out when cornered.

Fury laughs. “Stop trying to chew off your own leg and learn to adapt to the shackle. For all we know, this could just be for tonight.”

Until that moment, it hadn’t even occurred to you that it wouldn’t just be for tonight. You watch as Nick Fury casually checks his watch.

“Guests are starting to arrive. I’ve ordered a driver for you. The make and model of the car along with your attire should be enough to get you admitted, and if not, Agent Romanoff will. It’s been a pleasure.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours for the first time that night, and when you take it, your own is shaking.

“Chill. It’s not an assassination,” Fury tells you, squeezing your hand before letting go.

“Like you’d tell me it was at Employee Orientation anyway,” you grumble.

His laughter follows you out the door, where you find a sleek black car that’s probably worth just about as much as your salary for a year.

“Out of the frying pan and down the rabbit hole, I guess,” you sigh, opening the door and climbing inside.

To be continued...

Cat is kind of egged on out of her comfort zone in this chapter, thanks to Natasha's influence and her sense of duty-- but she can't keep up that intensity forever!

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x f!reader #tony stark x you #iron man x reader #iron man x f!reader #iron man x you #iron man #tony stark fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #tony stark #mcu fanfiction #tony stark imagine

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drunkenbagel · 2 years ago

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Enchanted to meet you - Part 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: overall fluff, descriptions of panic attack, angst with comfort a/n: i'm so so sorry for being away so long, i somehow lost access to the account and couldn't post anything!! also have been on a kind of writer's block, so i'm sorry for that too lol. for this part i added some media, let me know if you like it :D Word count: 5,5k Disclaimer: none of the photos used are mine and therefore i do not own them, i just edited them.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Your side of the video call stayed silent for a moment, while you were trying to process what Pedro just said.

“y/n? Did I lost you?” he asked, and groaned. “Maldita cobertura de LA” (Damned LA reception.)

“Wha- What did you just say?” you questioned again. “Are you kidding me right now? Because if you are, no te lo perdonaré nunca.” (I'll never forgive you)

”What? I just-” he started another sentence, but he was interrupted by someone asking to take a picture with him. You quickly silenced your mic and turned off your camera, not wanting to be seen by the people he was with. They would probably get the wrong idea, getting him in trouble. Not to mention the controversy and the incessant hate train that the situation would create. You knew Pedro was sensitive when it came to hurt and pain, even if it didn't seem that way just because he brushed it off with goofiness and some jokes. So, you tried your best to avoid any kind of problem that seeing someone like you with him could cause. After a few minutes, he focused his phone on his face again.

“Hey, sorry about that, darlin'” he said with a side smile. “Some people asked- Are you still there?”

You connected your mic and camera again. “Yeah, sorry. Didn't want to disturb you.”

He frowned. “Don't say that. You don't.”

You felt a small pang on your chest, but you brushed it off by jumping again to the previous topic.

“So, what is that thing you were telling me? You're inviting me where?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking if you'd like to come with me to Los Angeles. I've got some long filming ahead and was wondering if you'd like to visit me. I'm going to stay at my house here, and of course, as my best friend, you have a designated room” he said laughing. “I could show you around and stuff. You know, to see the beautiful places here.”

“I mean... I'd sure as hell would love it, don't get me wrong or anything” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “But, uhm...”

You didn't know how to tell him that you were dying to see Los Angeles since you moved to the United States, but that you were afraid to be outside with him and the consequences that it could bring. You two had been basically best friends for almost two and a half years now, but he was still a celebrity, for fuck's sake. And you were... Average. You always tried to be really careful when going outside with him. Wasn't he afraid of being seen with you? It was easier to blend in the few times you two went out in New York, especially since you preferred to go out mostly at night-time or just hang out at his house.

“Then it's settled! I'll be back there in like a week, and after a few days we can come back here for as long as you like. I think it'll be so fun being here with you, you'll love this! I'll show you so many things here. Oh, I also could show you around the studios, maybe you'll see someone from those crime shows you're obsessed with.”

“Hey! Why the cute rant and then you attack me? Not fair” you said cracking a small smile. “I appreciate your invite, really, but... I don't know, I have my job, my rent...”

“y/n, since your promotion you practically work from home. You don't go to the office anymore. And about your apartment, you always complain about the landlord, the sink, the place itself. Si no es esto, es lo otro. Why don't you move out and look for anything else?” (If it's not this, it's that.)

“I-” you tried to think of any excuses, but he was right. You had been looking for apartments, but it was very difficult to find anything decent in New York with an average paycheck. You sighed, defeated. “Look, I know you're right, but what do you want me to do? Just magically find something?”

He hummed, and brought his hand to his chin, thinking. You almost laughed. It looked like he was thinking so hard. After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.

“Here's the deal. I know this filming is going to be at least three months, so how about you stay with me here, and then you can stay at mine in New York? You know you have a room at my place anyways.”

“What? That is not-” You felt your cheeks heat up. How could he be so calm about this? “So that is your solution? You want me to move in with you?”

“I wouldn't say that, it's more like... A temporary solution until you find a place for yourself. You know you practically spend all your time in my house when I'm there! Also, you could stop paying rent for that shithole while staying with me, so I only see positive points here. Am I wrong?”

He smiled at the camera while you ran a hand through your hair, stressed. He had a very valid point, of course, but he said it so casually that it left you a bit dumbfounded. So did this mean that he didn't care to be seen with you? His New York apartment was in a multiple housing building, so it was always easier for you to go in unnoticed. But Los Angeles? You didn't know if that was possible. People there were more used to seeing celebrities, of course, but the anxious thoughts were not leaving you alone.

“Hey, I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable or anything. You know you can always say no” he said with a worried tone.

“I know, I know. I was just thinking...” you sighed. “You're right. But are you sure you don't mind me being there with you? Or anywhere close for that matter? Are you sure it's okay? Because I wouldn't-”

“Y'think I would have said it if I didn't mean it? You're offending me!” he said laughing. “Now, seriously. I'd love to have you around more. You know I miss you when we're apart.”

“Aw, mi Pedrito se enterneció. ¡Te he ablandado! How did you live without me?” you joked. (My little Pedro got soft. I have softened you!)

His could feel his cheeks getting red, but he tried to brush it off. “Anda, cállate. Do you accept my deal or not? The offer is now for limited time.” (C'mon, shut up.)

“Okay, okay! I do accept” you said laughing. “But I'll need help with moving if I have to leave everything at your apartment before going to LA. You help me or the deal is off.”

“You got it” he said with a wide smile. The way his eyes wrinkled while he was smiling or laughing made your heart skip a beat. It was too cute for your heart to handle, you loved it. The way he grasped onto anyone around him while he let out the cutest belly laugh, or how contagious they were.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. Pedro loved your laugh, especially when it was shared with him. Oh, how his heart started to beat faster every time you sent him a message. Or how that one time you were video chatting him and you felt so comfortable that you fell asleep still in the call. He ended up just watching you sleep soundly before falling asleep ‘beside you’. And now he was going to have you under the same roof? He felt like he was the happiest man in the world when you accepted. He couldn't believe you did. He had been thinking about asking you since you always complained about how awful your landlord was, or how he refused to fix anything. Truth be told, he wanted to punch that guy more than anything sometimes.

He tried to keep his silly crush for himself, especially since you were much younger than him. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to keep it away from his thoughts. But it was so damn difficult. You were so kind, so caring, and so sweet. He wanted you all for himself, but whenever he thought about it, he always ended up in the conclusion that you didn't seem to show any interest beyond your friendship. That's why he forced himself to act as he was, just your ‘older’ best friend. Who casually just invited you to live with him.

Cool, cool. Totally normal.

As the days went by, you put your leave notice to your landlord and started packing everything. Pedro helped you with all, just as he promised, even using his own car to move the boxes back and forth between apartments. Luckily, you didn't have that much stuff since your apartment was quite small. Time seemed to pass very slowly but so fast at the same time, leaving your stomach to be a flustered mess of nervousness. Soon enough, you both were waiting into the airline row to enter the plane.

“Oh my god. I can't believe I'm doing this!”

“It's hitting you now?” Pedro answered laughing. “Actually, it's making me feel weird too. But the good kind. I like it when I have you around.”

“Aw” you said pouting. “You like it, but not enough to pay for us to sit together?”

“Are you kidding me? I'm not going to pay 50 extra dollars for a seat. I'm already going to see you all the time when we land, don't give me a hard time with it! Plus, we're only a seat apart, eres una exagerada.” (You're exaggerating.)

“Whatever. I'll remember this betrayal.”

“Ugh” he said smiling while he rolled his eyes. “C'mon, we're next.”

The six hour flight went by faster than you expected it to be, especially since you slept for most of it. The chatty old lady that sat in between you two was kind enough to switch places with Pedro halfway on the flight when she saw the way he looked at you uncomfortably sleeping against the plane window, so he put the armrest back and carefully pulled you to his side so you could sleep on him.

You looked so beautiful like this. Softly moving your hair away from your face, he pushed the stray hairs behind your ear, and you sighed contently. He couldn't stop the smile that formed on his lips.

“How long have you been dating, dear?”

Pedro turned his head to his right, confused. “What?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you married perhaps? It's just that I didn't see your rings so I guessed you didn't pop the question yet. Don't tell me this trip is for that! Oh my, congratulations!”

“What? No! No, no” he said while moving his free hand on the air. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he looked at you quickly in case you had heard the lady, but you were soundly asleep. Then he looked at her again. “It's not like that. We- Uh, we're just friends. She's my best friend. Just that.”

“‘M sorry then, dear. It's just that I heard you two talkin’ about living together, saw you actin’ like you were, and I just assumed. But let me tell ya’, honey, friends don't look at each other like that” she said, briefly patting his thigh while smiling. “My dear Stevie, may he rest in peace, was always lookin’ at me the same. I didn't realize I was in love with him until I was with somebody else, for the love of god! I just assumed he was a good friend and never saw me as nothin’ else. He even helped me with this guy just ‘cause I seemed happy. But you see, honey, he just wanted the best for me as long as I was happy, even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness. I almost lost my dearest because I thought helpin’ me to find joy in another meant that he wasn't interested. I can see how you look at her. Don't let that happen to you, honey. Believe me, not worth the time you lose while y’know that you two are just playin’ pretend.”

Pedro only looked at the woman with his lips briefly parted, his heart heavy on his chest. He didn't want that happening, but he could also not risk ruining the relationship he already had with you. He would never do that. Also, he noticed how you always avoided going to crowded spaces or where paparazzi could spot you two together. How could he not? He knew that you didn't like the attention that kind of things attracted, so he respected your decisions over where to meet. Pedro preferred staying with you watching TV or playing games rather than cameras following him everywhere anyways. In fact, he knew moving to Los Angeles was a huge step for you, since it was nearly impossible to go out and not be spotted by paparazzis. That was mainly why he was feeling so nervous about this whole thing, but he hoped that after all the time that you two had been friends for, maybe you wouldn't be too bashful about going out with him, and would let him recognise you publicly as his friend.

He spent the hour and a half that was left of the flight sleeping with his head on top of yours, only waking up when the lady beside him shook his arm gently to let him know that you were landing. He then did the same with you, and couldn't hold back a smile while he watched you rub your eyes and yawn. After getting off the plane you two went for your baggages, and after you managed to put everything in one big stroller, you started walking outside.

“I'm impressed” he said, watching you push the thing by yourself. “I thought you were going to bring your whole house over here. Is this really everything?”

“Well, no” you said as if it was obvious. “Did you think I was going to bring my scarfs, jackets and big sweaters to LA? I'm not-”

You stopped talking when you saw a man with a camera in the distance. He was taking pictures of you. You gulped and tried to laugh, but an uncomfortable chuckle came out.

“y/n? Are you alright?” asked Pedro, a little worried by your change of demeanour. He moved his eyes in the direction you were looking, and then he saw it. A couple of men with cameras, and they were getting closer. “Hey, look at me.” You linked your eyes with his, and he had a soft look on them. “You'll be alright. C'mon, let's take a taxi and get home.”

You nodded and tried to ignore the sound of clicking cameras getting closer. Taking the stroller, Pedro quickly made his way to a taxi and started packing everything up while you got inside. When the men reached the car you heard him say something before he got to the back of it with you and gave the address to the driver. You nervously took his hand with yours and he squeezed it twice, which was his silent way of asking if you were feeling okay. You squeezed it back once. Yeah, just anxious. You two came up with this method after Pedro realized that you sometimes went non-verbal when you were in situations that made you feel anxious, and he wanted to know how he could help. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he left a kiss on your hair while rubbing his thumb over yours. After a few minutes in silence, he spoke up.

“I'm thinking you won't have much enthusiasm of going out. I understand if you wanna spend the day at home. We can watch a film or something, then order food. Sounds good?”

“Yeah” you answered in a whisper. “I'm sorry.”

“Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I know you're not used to this, and I love you for coming with me to the other side of the country despite knowing the situations that you may have to face. I should be the one apologizing” he said, and kissed your forehead. “I know this will be hard at first, but I want to be able to call you my friend. To talk about you in interviews, or when people ask me about funny stories. And I'm not trying to give you an ultimatum or anything since I understand that you want your privacy, I do too, but with my kind of life, you always have to give something. I don't want you being followed, but at least I want to be able to not hide my amazing best friend to the world.”

“I understand, and I'm okay with it. I didn't just accept moving with you lightly, I knew what I was getting into. And I understand that it may have been difficult not to say anything about me, but I just- I wasn't ready. It's not easy being a celebrity's best friend” you said with a chuckle. “But I also get your point. You have been my best friend for a long time now, and I don't want to hide anymore. I know it's going to be hard, so I need you to be patient with me. More than you have already been, which I'm incredibly thankful for. But it's not going to be something I magically get used to. Don't you think I might also be dying to share you with the world? I'd love to! But I was trying to wrap my head around it. And I did, and I'm ready. So expect me posting about you and your shitty habits everywhere on my Instagram and Twitter from now on.”

He couldn't hold back a wide grin while he took you into a tight hug, and you giggled. “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this, y/n. Ugh, you're the best. How did I ever bag this good of a friend?”

“I believe you stalked me for weeks, forced Ernesto to tell you things about my schedule, then waited for me in the café every time like a puppy and called it ‘a coincidence’, right?”

“You're saying it like I'm some creep or something! I just liked how normal you treated me, okay? Shut up.”

After arriving to the house and setting your things on your room, Pedro gave you a small tour of the house. You loved it. Especially the views from the amazing balcony that led to a beautiful view of the city. You two opened a bottle of wine while waiting for the takeout to arrive, and you braced yourself to finally face the challenge: going through socials. You were sure that the photos from this morning were all over the internet already, and when you entered Twitter, you confirmed it. The paparazzi pictures where everywhere, and everyone was speculating on how were you related to him. When the food arrived and he was about to dig into it, you spoke.

“Pedro?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it's time to post it” you said while taking a long sip of the glass.

“That fast?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and showed him your phone. “Okay then, one sec.”

He took out his phone and typed something. A few moments later, your phone chimed, and you stared at the Instagram post you were tagged in.

“You bitch! You could have picked another photo” you said while laughing.

“I know, but that's the funniest one” he said chuckling too.

—•—

It had been a bit more than a month since the photo was posted, and people were taking it a lot better than you had expected. Some were even asking you to post ‘unseen’ Pedro content. There were also people that insulted you and told you ugly things, but you decided to ignore and block them. Your social media follower count had exploded, and you had a lot of new people interacting with your normal content, but you got more or less used to it.

You had been out together a couple of times, mostly to get groceries and stuff before Pedro began his filming. He made you copies for every key in the house, and also gave you the spare one for his car in case you ever needed it. But since then, he spent a lot of hours out in the studios, so you mostly saw each other at early mornings or nights.

“Hey, I'm free today so I was thinking of going to the beach or something. I know it's not the best weather, but maybe we could take the car and then rent some bikes and go for a ride over there? What do you think?” Pedro asked you one afternoon while eating lunch.

You yawned while nodding. You had tried not to sleep in the Los Angeles daylight, but you were still kind of used to the New York timezone. Jet lag was no joke, and your shitty sleep schedule didn't help either.

“Sure. But I might be a little out of practice, so you better not laugh at me.”

“But that would be the best part!” he said laughing. “Okay then, I'll go for the car. This way I can show you around a bit more than these past weeks.”

He seemed very happy since he made you two public, and it made your heart go soft at the thought that sharing you with the world had that kind of reaction for him. Sometimes you thought that the people would find your friendship weird because of the age difference, but to your luck, it seemed like most people understood the situation a little. Of course, there were the ones that thought it was weird, or that you two were dating but didn't want to tell, but luckily it wasn't that many people.

When you got dressed Pedro drove to Santa Monica beach, then rented the bikes, and it was then when your small tour began. He showed you Venice beach, his favourite places to eat, drink and you even saw a museum from the outside. When the sun was starting to set, you rode back to the bike renting shop and sat in the sand to watch the sunset.

After it got a little dark, Pedro drove you to a local Mexican restaurant not too far to have dinner. You ordered some tacos and enchiladas, and while eating them both of you talked about how filming was going. He was so excited about it, and he wanted to invite you to set. You told him you would think about it beacuse you too had a job, but you ended up promising you would soon since you could do yours from anywhere and your schedule was more flexible. Pedro had a small desk on the living room so you used it as a makeshift little office.

Unaware for both of you, some people had spotted Pedro at the restaurant and posted it on the internet, which led the paparazzi to the location. They were waiting outside, and when you two realised it, it was too late, since there were already a small swarm of them. Your stomach began to ache with anxiety. This was the first time that you encountered that many together.

“I can ask the staff to let us out from the back” Pedro said after seeing your reaction to the small crowd.

“No, no. I don't want to inconvenience them or anything. We'll just... Go out, and then walk to the car and go back home. I'll be fine” you said, but worry was lingering in your voice.

After getting your leftovers in a small container, paying and gathering your things, you got up and headed to the exit. When Pedro got his hand on the handle of the cristal door, the flashes of the cameras had already began clicking around you. You had to cover your eyes and stop in your tracks for a second, which Pedro used to take your hand and lead you to where the car was a few meters away. Everyone was pushing around and shouting, trying to get his attention.

“Why did you hide her?”

“Did she move in with you?”

“Are you two dating?”

You reached the car, but they were too close. One of them was blocking the passenger door, so you couldn't really get into it. Pedro was already on the driver's side of the car, waiting for you to get in.

“Please move, you're in the middle” you heard Pedro say to them.

The photographers didn't listen and kept shouting while flashing their cameras. They were so close, too close, you felt like your air was slowly getting kicked out of your lungs. But they didn't back off, they just kept moving closer and pushing their way into you to get the best angles.

“Why are you even with her? You can do so much better!”

Pedro turned around to yell at the guy who said that, but he was just in front of you, and while he flinched backwards trying to get away from him thinking Pedro was maybe going to push him, his camera hit your face. It hit you right in the cheek, breaking the skin ever so slightly but enough to make you bleed. You gasped and your head moved down from the impact. You heard Pedro yell your name as he ran to your side, and you could swear the small crowd went silent for an instant before resuming the flashing of the cameras.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pedro screamed at the guy. He took your face softly in between his hands as he was inspecting the spot which you had been hit on.

“She was in the middle, it's not my fault!”

“It's not your fault?” he said tearing his eyes from you to the man, and felt the worry for you shift into rage inside of him. “If you had even a little bit of a brain you wouldn't have to push anyone, you fucking asshole!”

You couldn't hear anything. Everything sounded like it was muffled. Panic was starting to build rapidly into you, making your limbs shake. Your breath was becoming irregular and your hands were sweating. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. You turned your back to the photographers, facing the car and putting your hands against it in an attempt to ground yourself. Tears started forming in your eyes, and you tried not to spill them. You didn't want to cry, not here, not where you could embarrass Pedro. That was the last thing you wanted. You tried to open the car door with shaky hands, and after what felt like an eternity, you got into the car. You crouched down and took your head between your hands trying to stop your head from pounding. Pedro was so fucking angry at the guy. How could he treat you like that? He had no right to do it. He was almost going to punch him but stopped in his tracks when he saw you get into the car and double over. His stomach sank at the sight. He knew what that position meant for you, and without any other word he got into the car and drove away without caring if he ran over one of those ungrateful men.

“Breathe, baby. We're out, I'm taking you home. We're almost there. Steady breaths.”

He kept talking to you in an effort to ground you, but silent tears were already streaming down your face as you hyperventilated. You hated this, you hated messing up everything. As soon as you were home, Pedro got out of the car and ran to your side. After opening the door, he carefully took you in his arms as you clinged to him, still with uneven breaths. He took you to the living room and lowered both of you to the ground.

“y/n, let's breathe together, okay? Look” he said while taking your hands into his and clutching them into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly a couple of times, and you tried to imitate him, but it was very hard for you, which only got you more frustrated and anxious. “It's alright, don't push it. Slowly. There's no rush, I'm here with you. Now, I'm going to leave your side for a second” he said softly, and you let out a small whine. “It'll be just a moment, and I'll be right back, okay? It's alright, I promise.”

You slightly nodded, still shaking and breathing harshly. Pedro quickly got up and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, making his way back to you. He then sat in front of you and put it into your hands, holding them to your chest. Cold always helped you calm down.

“Meanwhile... Let's do 5-to-1, alright? Tell me 5 things you can see.”

After a small pause, you nodded and started looking around. “P-photos” you answered with a small shaky voice. “TV. Kitchen. F-fan. Bal- balcony. Shoes.”

“Good. Very good, baby. You're doing amazing” he said with a smile. “Now 4 things you can touch.”

You looked around and with a trembling hand you touched the rug. Then your pants. Then the sofa. And lastly the small coffee table that was in front of the sofa.

“That's good. Very good” he reassured you again. Positive responses helped you feel like you were a bit more in control. “Now three things you can hear.”

You breathed in and out shakily again, and closed your eyes for a moment. You could hear some faint music from the street, playing not too far away. “M- music.” Moving your head slowly, you heard the kitchen clock ticking. “Clock.” Pedro nodded and gave your hands a small squeeze. A breeze made the trees outside crunch. “Wind.”

“Perfect. That's very good, baby. You're doing great. Now can two things you can smell?”

You looked around again, trying to find anything that came into your ratio. You sniffed the air, and saw the abandoned leftover box in the middle of the room.

“F-food.” Pedro smiled at you and nodded. You looked at him with teary eyes, inhaled and then clutched his shirt. “You. Your- cologne.”

He couldn't stop his face softening or the loving look he gave you. He knew you were just saying it because he was the closest thing you could smell, but he couldn't help his heart from beating faster.

“Very good. Now the last one, something you can taste.”

You had calmed down a little, but after a few moments of looking around, your breath became hitched again. You couldn't find anything. Nothing. Not even a mint or some candy. Pedro saw how your thoughts started racing again, and his smile faded completely, panic briefly washing over him too.

“Okay, okay. Remember, slow breaths. Deep and slow, please.”

Your eyes didn't meet his, frantically looking for something that would complete the exercise. You had to complete it. It wasn't right. Pedro thought of every possible solution, but nothing came to mind. Until it did. But he didn't want to do it. It felt wrong, but he saw you start trembling again, he couldn't just leave you to suffer. He knew how important this cycle was to you.

“Oh, fuck this. I- I'm sorry” Pedro muttered while tenderly taking your face in his hands and bringing his lips to meet yours. Your entire body stopped shaking in shock as your eyes widened. You could taste his minty toothpaste along with your shared dinner. Without you noticing, your breath had become slower because of the air shortage. But Pedro noticed that, and he gently pulled back from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes to meet your still widened ones. For what felt the longest time you two didn't say anything, and his thoughts were the ones that started to race now.

Fuck. I fucked up everything. Why did I even do that? Shit. I ruined it. Now she's going to leave and-

You left the ice pack on the floor, and leaning into him, you snuggled into his lap and put your head on his chest, hugging his waist with your arms. He did the same and held your head with one of his hands, resting his lips on top of it. Pedro was now the one with wide eyes.

What was he supposed to do now? What the hell did this even mean?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #fanfiction

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 6 months ago

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“Could be but when it comes to Meghan wanting a political career, it’s the longest relationship she’s ever had with an idea.” So the same person that may or may not have filed the paperwork and made payment on time for her foundation, and can’t find a CEO for her newest venture ARO, and can’t stick with a decision thinks she has what it takes to lead a country of 330 million people? LOL! Aside from that, she can’t keep her titles and she’d have to pay for things like food in the White House, designer clothing (accept as gift but have to donate after one wear, which wouldn’t be a problem for her), staff for private parties, gifts for foreign dignitaries (does jam count?), interior decorating outside of the stipend (is SoHo House style expensive?) plus other things. Living there isn’t the freebie she thinks it is. Also, she’d have to trust her advisors and I doubt her squad are policy experts. She’s delulu as the youth say.

Yep. It always shocks people to learn that the President and the First Lady pay for 90% of their lives in the White House out of pocket.

I don't remember which president it was (I want to say it was HW Bush, but I can't recall with any certainty) but someone used to require the White House Residence staff cut coupons and purchase store-brand foods as often as possible to save on food costs.

It's been awhile since I've read a FLOTUS memoir (they talk about this more than a POTUS memoir does) but if I'm remembering correctly, the American public only pays for state receptions/dinners hosted at the White House residence and the redecorating on January 20th as part of the presidential transition. There might be a few others, but they're nominal in the grand scheme of White House expenses.

And if she thinks the ethics rules of the British Royal Family are tough, wait till she gets lectured on the ethics rules of the United States Executive Branch.

Fun fact: the Office of Government Ethics just updated its rules and standards for ethics in the Executive Branch. It's 46 pages if anyone needs some help sleeping tonight.

#sussexes

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officebanaoo · 8 months ago

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Are office reception wall design ideas worth the investment?

Creative office reception wall design ideas like accent walls, artwork, textures, and lighting enhance the reception dramatically. You can reach Officebanao team anytime by WhatsApp – 8929399141 or by mail at [email protected]

#office reception design ideas #office reception wall

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shalin-designs · 9 months ago

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How to choose best design of Waiting Room Furniture for 2024?

#Waiting room furniture trends 2024 #waitingroomdesign #Innovative lobby seating ideas #furnituredesign #Commercial waiting area design tips #interiordesign #Sleek and modern reception furniture #officedesign #Waiting room seating arrangements #waitingroomfurniture #Affordable office lounge furniture #modularfurniture #Stylish waiting room decor inspiration #Ergonomic office reception chairs #Waiting room furniture for medical offices #Reception seating for small spaces

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sassykattery · 2 years ago

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Rites and Rituals, Pt. 4

Welcome to Part 4

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is a demon and poly. Use of gendered spousal and titled words toward reader [princess, queen, wife]. *Smut scene: mirror sex, dom reader for a little bit, choking, then sub reader, creampie, some praise/reassurance fluff.

Themes: Romance. Wedding. Sex. DiavoloxMC. Fluff.

Characters: [new oc] Nyx, MC="you", Diavolo

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy

"Good afternoon, Mistress MC, I'll be the designer for your gowns," the demon before you said. They were the top designer from Majolish, and Diavolo had them outsourced for you. Nyx was a tall, slender lust demon and genderfluid, so they were androgynous in overall body shape, with russet brown skin and deep amber eyes. Their short sky-blue hair quaffed over one side of their face, slightly curled at the ends. Nyx was beautiful and well-dressed as a top designer should be.

You two were in the upstairs office of Majolish, surrounded by designs, walls of fabrics, and more shoes than a person could know what to do with.

"Ah, it's nice to meet you, Nyx. I have several drawings here for you, and we can collaborate on a final design," you said, sliding some papers over to them.

"Ah! Wonderful," Nyx said. "It's not often I'm placed with somebody who already knows what they want. So, you need four gowns then, yes? Two for each ceremony?"

"Yes, I want one for each ceremony and reception," you replied.

Nyx took your binder and began sorting through your ideas. "Excellent. Well, based on your drawings, I think I can certainly work with what you have envisioned. Tell me, mistress, what are you thinking for the vibe you'd like to have?"

You pulled out your wedding binders for each wedding, describing in great detail what you had envisioned, and then showed pictures of everything you had come up with so far. Nyx was impressed.

"My, my, MC, you are something. I do believe you and I will work well together on this. Shall we go ahead and start pinning fabrics so I may get to know your body shape better?" You nodded and the two of you got to work.

"Might I see your demon form for this? I need to fit the gowns around your wings," Nyx asked. You phased into it as asked, and they continued pinning fabrics onto you. Then they chuckled.

"What is it?" You asked nervously.

"Ah, you'll have to excuse me. I see now why you're considered the most tempting being in the Devildom," they replied.

"I'm what?" You inquired, confused.

"Dear, you didn't know? Even as a human, I knew about your presence, and when I saw you in the store here with Asmodeus, I couldn't help but agree. As a demon now? You're just as irresistible. Lord Diavolo and Lucifer are quite lucky indeed," Nyx stated. They continued measuring and pinning as they spoke. "You see, for most of us demons, we come in a variety of sizes, colors, and heights, and our perception of beauty is quite different from humans. But we all still look quite the same: muscular, tall, fit, it's how we are able to do our jobs as demons, and live in general. Humans are intriguing, how soft and fragile they can be. All of us are beguiled by you in particular, as you still appear as you did as a human."

Though your vanity was soaring at their words, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"I apologize if I offended you," Nyx said, seeing your expression and standing in your rapid silence.

"No! Sorry, no, not at all. I just... as a human, I didn't understand why I received as much attention as I did. Though now, it seems like it's calmed down since I'm a demon," you replied.

"Oh, that's because you're an Avatar and betrothed to not only the prince but also the most powerful brother. Though, there's something to be said about no longer having a soul everyone was pining for. Regardless, there will always be those who love you in secret, but now it will be rare for someone to try anything with you, lest they're actually that stupid," Nyx chuckled at the end. "And done, this will help me pattern all of your garments."

Carefully, Nyx pulled you out of your cocoon of fabrics and set it aside. "Now, let's get to work!" They said while clapping each syllable out.

"How was the design appointment?" Diavolo asked from his desk, still looking down at his papers.

"It went well, I liked Nyx a lot," you replied quietly.

"Ah, yes. Nyx actually designed many of the outfits in your closet," Diavolo stated.

You were silent, staring at the prince. A question weighed in your mind. Though he wouldn't have known it, the silence was heavy for you as you considered this idea.

"Do you miss me being human?"

The prince froze, processing your tone and question. He slowly put his papers down and looked up at you, noting your hands behind your back, knowing you were no doubt fiddling with your fingers in anxiousness. He beckoned you with his index finger. Complying, you came around his desk and sat on his awaiting lap. His hands planted firmly on your hips.

"What is troubling you?"

"I just couldn't help but wonder if you didn't fall in love with me because I was human and... different from what you normally encountered," you stated, trying to word it carefully.

Diavolo considered your words cautiously, wondering what it was you were really asking. Before answering, he needed more information.

"What's bringing this on?"

"Nyx said something about why I received more attention as a human than I do now as a demon," you replied. "It feels... objectifying. It sounds like I was being fetishized."

His gaze went askance momentarily before meeting yours again. "Your humanity is something I treasured, but you being human wasn't what made me fall in love with you, no," he answered slowly. "Now, I won't lie to you, there are those who simply saw you as an exotic; we are demons after all, and I'm not blind to what others have said about you." Giving it a bit more thought, he sighed. "Recently I asked Barbatos about this very thing, if things were not easier when you were human, but he helped me realize that I simply am not used to having a partner, not just a lover."

You looked just a smidge hurt by his words, and he rushed to console you. "I didn't mean to offend you, it was a moment of weakness I had, not because of anything you did. I'm not entirely used to being this close to anyone. Forgive me," he pleaded, taking your hand and pulling it to his chest. You nodded, understanding.

He looked you over and had an idea. "I think I could take a break, why don't you come with me?"

You hopped off his lap, and Diavolo led you by the hand, out of his office and into his bedroom. At the foot of his bed, he stopped and turned, holding your hands.

"Can I show you something?" He asked. You nodded.

Following his motions, he turned you around, so your back was to him. You heard a snap and a full-length mirror appeared in front of you. He nudged you forward just a tiny bit and stood behind you.

"My darling," he said in a low voice, "I think it's my duty to remind you of something."

You looked at each other through the mirror. His hands snaked their way around your waist, sliding down to your shirt hem, and then curling his fingers underneath to slowly pull it up. Instinctively, your arms went up, letting him take it all the way off. You watched as he continued to disrobe you, and when your pants and panties pooled around your feet, you gently kicked them away and stood bare before yourself and your betrothed.

"You see," he said, as he pushed himself directly behind you, so you could feel his voice rumbling in his torso against your back as he spoke, "I love every inch of this." He dragged a finger lightly across your collarbone, down your sternum, around your breasts, down your stomach, and then up your neck to stop at your lips before finally dropping his hand.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about the first time we made love, after our first date. I was quite nervous, because I just wanted to please you," he stated, a smile gracing his lips. "And then when I saw all of you, completely naked below me, it was all I could do to not simply worship you." His hands then purchased your hips, his fingers digging into your plush flesh.

"I am most fond of that memory, because I always feel that same excitement when I see you, such as I do now, in all of your raw beauty before me, ad I am someone so undeserving of it," he continued.

His hands gracefully glided up your sides, coming around to your back and up your shoulders to rest at your biceps. "Yes, indeed, you were simply gorgeous as a human," he concluded. He whispered, "Now shift."

You shifted to your demon form as requested. "But this..." he said, his hands running down your wings, fingers grazing through your midnight blue feathers. "This is most beautiful to me. An immortal who strives for perfection, admiration, vanity, and accomplishment, I could think of no better fit for my wife and queen. So carefully and wonderfully made, how striking you look in this way." When his hands reached the base of your wings, where they met your skin, you shuddered, feeling the hot electricity coursing through your nerves.

"Close your eyes," he ordered. When you did, you heard another snap. "Now open," he said.

You opened your eyes to see in the mirror that Diavolo was in his demon form as well, and you could look and feel that he was fully nude now too. You collapse your wings, and he wrapped one arm around your torso, and his other hand took yours and held it out, as if you two were dancing, but standing still.

"One of my own kind, and so beautiful. You are truly unparalleled, princess, and I'll never again love another as I have loved you. We never have to say goodbye, we never have to part, and I can show you the limitlessness of my love for you," he murmured. He leaned down to your ear, "Understand?"

"Yes," you whispered in awe, watching his golden eyes as they watched your own.

*"Now," he muttered, "I'm afraid I can't let you go now. Both of us are standing here together like this..." He then nuzzled his head against yours. "I need you."

He left you to lie down, but when you turned you saw his head laying at the foot of the bed, he beckoned you over. Coming around, you climbed onto the bed and onto your lover, straddling his hips. His cock was hard and waiting for you.

"I want you to watch yourself as you ride me," he said with an ornery grin.

You looked up at the mirror ahead of you, and it was rather erotic to see yourself on top of the Demon Lord like this, both of you in your demon forms. Looking back down, you watched his expression as you slid yourself back, his cock gliding into your folds and rubbing against your clit. Your hands planted on his chest, you ground yourself into him, relishing the sensation of his cock, and then all at once you shifted forward and back to fully take him into your pussy.

"Ah, MC," he said, breathless. He brought up his hand to push your chin up, so you'd watch the mirror again. His hands went to your hips, guiding you into a rhythm that had you both panting.

You watched as your breasts bounced up and down, your hips rocking forward and back, over and over. Sitting up, you continued to rock yourself into sweet bliss with one hand placed on his lower abdomen to keep you steady. In this moment, you were sexy, riding the crowned prince of the Devildom, having him at your mercy. He was yours, and seeing you claim him like this drove something darker in you.

Keeping your head up, your eyes flitted down, looking at Diavolo over your nose. He noticed the change in demeanor, the dark lust and hunger in your eyes.

"You're mine, and always will be," you said to him in a smokey voice.

A smirk graced his lips, "All yours, my princess," he replied huskily.

"Better get used to calling me your queen," you said forcefully. Your hand shot down to his throat, causing you to lean over slightly, and you squeezed it.

"Ah-haha, MC," he tried to say. Diavolo rather liked this side of you, the demoness he suspected that lie in wait for a long time, burning to be let out of her cage within your mind.

"Try again," you demanded, lightly releasing your hold.

"My queen, I'm yours," he choked out. One of his hands left your hips and grabbed a hold of your arm that was extended to his neck.

"That's better," you said with a smirk of your own. Your hips rocked faster, chasing your pleasure. "Oh, my king," you purred. Now he moaned, hearing your words as you rode him harder. Your hold on his neck tightened again, and you looked up again at the mirror.

The sight before you sent you over the edge. It was erotic, to choke the prince and domineer for once. This was your vanity: to see satisfaction in yourself, as you took what you wanted, how you wanted, and you loved the power that coursed through you.

"Oh-ah, fuck, Dia-" you stammered, feeling the heat rise from your toes. Your internal coils were coming undone, and it was all you could do to stay upright as the fires of pleasure shot up your spine, tingling all the way up to your neck. A mindless scream escaped your lips, your cries echoing in the room. You released your hold on his throat and just tried to stay upright as you rode yourself into bottomless pleasure. Your partner helped by guiding your hips, thrusting himself into you.

"That's it, MC, my love, cum on me," he muttered to you. Your juices ran down your thighs and soaked his groin and the sheets below. A little whimper burned at your tongue, and your climax finally released you, letting you fall limp onto Diavolo.

"Mm, that was so good," he whispered into your hair, his hands carding through your hair and rubbing your upper back.

With his arms wrapped around you, he rolled you both over so that he was on top, and you two laid like that for a few moments as you calmed down some more.

Once your breathing evened out, he pulled himself up, looking down at your frame. "So perfect," he murmured, his lids lowered and eyes full of warm desire. He sat up onto his knees, pulling your legs around his hips. His hands started at your breasts, and drug their way up your limbs, wanting to feel all of you. Bringing one leg up over his shoulder, he hovered back over you and slid his cock into you once more, one arm holding him up above you. His thrusts were slow, gentle, easy.

It was his turn to look in the mirror ahead, and it was so hard for him to not lose control then, seeing where his cock was sliding in and out of you, or how you looked beneath him. You looked up through hazy eyes, watching him look up at the mirror. It was just as hot to you to look at him while he was transfixed on the image ahead. He truly was magnificent to you; unlike any person you'd ever met. Feeling more emotional now, your hand shot up to cup his face, causing him to look down at you again.

"I love you," you said breathlessly.

"And I love you, my queen," he murmured, smiling lustfully at you. He leaned down to kiss you sweetly, and when he pulled away, you saw a rather naughty thought run across his mind, giving way to his expression. His eyes flickered up to the mirror again and back to you.

"What is it?" you whispered.

"Turn over for me," he whispered in reply. He withdrew from you and held himself up over you.

You did as instructed, knowing what it was he wanted. Pulling your knees up, you lifted your ass into the air, and in the mirror ahead you could watch as Diavolo took in your body, displayed just so erotically for him. His eyes finally landed on yours, and that awful smirk gave way to a rather ominous smile that showed his fangs. Oh, is all you could think in that moment.

Once he positioned himself behind you, his hips snatched a hold of your hips in a grip so mean you'd think he was angry. His hard cock was rubbing against your pussy, the head resting just on your clit.

"Hands," he ordered.

You carefully laid your head down on the mattress, resting on one cheek, and reached both arms back. He snatched them into one hand, able to hold both in just one of his, keeping his other hand on your hip. He then pulled you up, the tension in your arms being connected with his was enough to keep your upper body up. You looked up into the mirror, and with no hesitation, he slipped his cock back inside of your cunt. He wanted to see your expression as he did so.

"Oh!" You whimpered.

"Look at me," Diavolo ordered. Your eyes flitted up to his. His lips curled to see your desperate face. "Let me show you what it means to be dominant," he stated. Your eyes widened, much to his pleasure.

He set a relentless pace of blowing your back out, his thrusts hard and brutal. With every hard smack of his hips against yours, you cried out in ecstasy. It was even more erotic to see it all happening before you in the mirror. How his large hand encapsulated both your own, the muscles in his arm flexed to hold you up. Or how with every slam of his hips, you shot forward, but not too far as he kept you close with his other hand on your hip. It all had you keening for more, your walls tightening with juices pouring over the backs of your thighs.

"You like this, don't you?" Diavolo chuckled. Your eyes flitted up to his dark and lustful golden ones.

"Y-Yes!" You stammered. He wasn't letting up.

"Now, do you believe me when I tell you," he grunted, "that I love you, and that there will never be another as precious to me?"

"Yes," you cried.

"Say it," he growled.

"I believe you!" You wailed as he drilled your cunt that much harder, throwing you into another fitful orgasm. Your whole body was rigid as the waves took over, with your walls becoming impossibly tight around his cock. He groaned to feel your cunt milking him for everything he had. It was more than enough to send him spiraling down the same chasm of pleasure, making him grunt and moan as he released inside of you.

He fell forward on top of you, wrapping an arm over your waist and abdomen to keep you slightly up. His labored breaths were hot on your neck, nuzzling his face into the back of your head and in your hair.

"I love you," he rasped, planting light kisses across your neck.

"I love you too," you whispered. He hummed and gently released you as you steadied yourself with your arms. Carefully, you lowered yourself down to the mattress, and he followed suit to partially lay on top of you, holding your back against his chest as he wormed his arm underneath you.

Feeling comfortable, warm, and cuddly, both of you drifted off into slumber, small smiles adorning your faces in blissful peace.

---

Thanks for reading! <3

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @itsmeninerz @themythicaldisaster @obeymediasimp @frozengoldie @flemmingbamse @marvelous-maniac

#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #love-eternal #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #diavolo smut #diavolo x female reader

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blmed · 7 months ago

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LOCATION. JOHANN'S PRIMARY OFFICE. Eugen-Leopold Platz 1, berlin.

Johann works in undisclosed subsidiary security company from Switzerland &. the company's headquarter is located in Eugen-Leopold Platz 1, outside of hackescher markt, berlin. it is one of most recognizable buildings amongst of commercials buildings on the corner of the market as it was meant to be built for an advertisement company by its completion in 2011, however after four years of operation, the advertisement company had gone bankrupt &. the security company chose its new headquarter place in berlin.

Designed by Hermann Schultz, this 8,800 m² building was an actualization of the previous company's vision: Orchestra of Ideas. The building was designed to mimic a modern orchestra house &. its interwoven instrumental imagery. The work surfaces are arranged around the central stage, with an atrium connecting all of the floors &. work spaces. the ground floor has reception, lobby, restaurant &. urban space. the company chose this building as a perfect cover-up of security services dealings that go through the company; an orchestra of safety.

As general counsel of the company, Johann's office is located on the sixth floor of this eight stories building. The whole floor is floor is for the legal department. the office is a combination of closed but transparent office cells with open areas that create a spatial continuum that enables informal encounters &. concentrated work at the same time.

Upon walking from the escalator / lift, the visitor will be welcomed by the front office where johann's secretary resides &. a guest meeting room as an extension of the front office. within the front office, there's a modern designed sofa for the visitor to sit whilst waiting for the meeting. because of the transparent window/door that divide the front room &. the meeting room, a person can see the meeting takes place.

furthermore, when a person walks through the lobby on the left side of the front office, soon they will be welcomed by a bigger meeting room, of which people call it as a conference room. within this place, it can hold about twenty to twenty five people thus accommodating larger discussions / meetings than the front office. on the right side of the conference room, there's a couple of paralegals &. legal assistants offices. the senior legal counsels &. legal counsels offices are the left side as an extension from the press conference room which eventually make a box shaped floor.

johann's office is situated between the conference room &. legal counsels' offices. upon walking to his office, a person will be welcomed by modern abstract painting that matches the modern facade of the building alongside of several black &. white industrial photographs captured by johann's friends. there's also modern black sofa in between before johann's personal desk. johann's personal desk is a modern oak table with dark green deskmat &. trinkets such as steel globe, industrial desk lamp, personal photos on the corner of the desk &. a laptop that he carries than using computer. behind the desk, there's a small storage that keeps documents &. books he reads &. a safe box beside of it. there's not much that can describe his personality, however he keeps personal photos such as a picture of him &. his mother on his first day as a law student, a picture of him &. his cousin, nina, &. pictures of nina's triplets as well as one of triplets' drawing he keeps as a reminder of the family he barely connects despite being in germany.

johann continuously goes back & forth between his office in bern, new york, london, &. others however he sees the berlin office as his primary office.

#* meta. berlin office.#* graphics. berlin office.#* locations. berlin office.

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sreppub · 2 years ago

Note

please tell us all of your floor plan gripes bc SAME

THANK YOU!!!

Before we begin:

i'm sure the original artist was just having fun with it. i am also having fun!

there's absolutely no shame in liking this design and using it for inspiration as is!

honestly once i had some dinner and did some yoga, i lost my interest in ranting about something silly but it seems like a lot of writers were excited to have a visual reference, so maybe this will be interesting to - someone? 😂

inspired by one of my favourite blogs of all time: @/mcmansionhell

Important

I do appreciate that the fireplaces line up. 🔥

this plan was never meant to be in scale, nor does it include all the practical things like washrooms, closets, and stairs. be honest, would you care about these things in your silly batman comic? :P

I tried not to dwell on practicalities, but on things that I think do matter for a "set" and creating scenes. Is all. At a Wayne gala, is it easy or hard for child Tim to stumble into the library and meet Jason? What absolutely floors reporter Clark Kent when he comes inside the house, and what nooks and crannies does Brucie drag him into to make out? What's Alfred's day like?

Main Floor, Basement, Exterior

As mentioned by several others, one (1) half-bathroom for the entire first and basement floors. Interesting choice.

Weird afterthought facade

Clapboard. How is this not full gorgeous masonry.

Disappointing tiny foyer. Double height space, excellent opportunity for a feature staircase with a wraparound mezzanine, and the only thing up above is a tiny elevator lobby. There is NO space in this foyer for 9 year old Dickie to destroy a chandelier in.

That private study gotta be stuffy and dark with no windows. It better be because the clock batcave entrance is behind it, unmarked on the plan for secrecy.

The entrance to the huge mega parlor is so tight and small because of that stair 😫

My understanding of a parlour is a sitting room, no? Pour parler? Even a large parlour should be cozy and sized intimately, like... couches and a bar for a dozen people, max. I don't spend a lot of times in houses with parlours, so I could be wrong.

All of the hosting rooms clustered together makes sense. Then there's the dining room. "30-45" people need to shuffle through the tiny foyer to be seated for dinner.

Dining room so fuckin far from the kitchen

Little Jason Todd needs walk all the way from his bedroom in Siberia to the foyer stairs, make a U-turn, walk through the creepy echoey empty parlor and down the creepy echoey empty ballroom stairs to get to the library. this is discrimination.

Getting to the pool is super inconvenient from the residential level lol. Or anywhere really

Dr Wayne's Office, sure. Rather large for a single doctor, but maybe he had reception, storage, multiple suites, staff?

The hallways would feel like hamster tubes lol. Maybe old houses are just like that idk

There's no family-sized kitchen, dining room, den.... Just the big party ones.

You can fit three laundromats in that laundry room

Second Floor

Secretary's office? For what? And why on the residential floor? My best guess (I know little about old timey manors) is a touchdown office for administrative staff and guests - accountants, lawyers, Wayne Enterprises/Foundation staff... no idea.

It's cool that the residential level has a mezzanine overlooking the parlor, but feels... small.

These bedrooms are stupidly big. I could give benefit of the doubt and assume the bedrooms include unmarked ensuites, a study, whatever; but not when it explicitly says Jason has a twin bed and a desk. That room is bigger than my comfortable 2BR apartment.

Crazy long "Main Bath" (and again, not enough for five rooms). Although I suppose Dick doesn't have to share it with Jason for very long...

There are staff areas, but no staff residences. The oversized guest suites?? Or... perhaps they have to commute to change Bruce's linens? (yes, it's only Alfred now, but like. When the Ancestral Waynes lived here.)

The attic was renovated later into Bruce's living space. Presumably Guest Bed #1 was the former Master Bedroom? maybe?

Third Floor

Bruce renovated this himself so i’m allowed to roast him for it

Three balconies??? Three???? And they're ALL absurdly sized. Bruce is pale like a ghost. They are only for being dropped off by superman and kissing him goodnight.

Private video library?? He has a couple Blockbuster's worths of surveillance tapes or something?

The path for guests to go to that meeting room is so long and so winding and they have to walk though the residential spaces???

Future expansion with storage?????? For WHAT Bruce??????

The elevators don't go up here?????

Okay imagine this. Tiny Dickie has a nightmare. If there’s anything I learned from fanfic, he’s going to find Bruce’s room and sneak into his bed for crying and cuddles. If he can fucking make it there.

I think Bruce just finishes some renovations on the attic and then he accidentally adopts a child who goes fucking missing for a DAY because he went looking for Bruce one night and got LOST, and then Bruce moves back down to the family wing

Conclusion

Pinterest boards, man, i love pin boards so much

#mine #long post #complaining abt nothing in particular lol

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

Text

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - open your mind

A/N; this is so random but it’s based on my dream I had so enjoy this weird monstrosity 💜

You had enough for school for the day, you were fed up of everyone making annoying you and making comments on the tattoos on your arms.

“Get back into this classroom!” Mrs Carp snapped.

“Why?! What’s the point their all mocking me and you’re not doing anything about it!”

“Well if you didn’t have those tattoos maybe they wouldn’t mock you would they?” She asked.

You stared at her, narrowing your eyes a little bit, hands balled tightly into fists and your side.

“It’s part of our tradition, are you saying it’s okay to mock others cultures and traditions?” You asked lowly.

“All I’m saying is if the shoe fits.”

You clenched your jaw, reaching behind you, you slammed your hand into the fire alarm making it go off and you smirked at her.

“Have fun dealing with this.”

With that you stormed away and down the hallways, making your way outside with everyone else you waited patiently in the line.

Everyone was dismissed and you turned around, making your way inside to go to your locker and you started to grab your stuff.

“Cleaning the footballs, detention for the next week, and you forfeit the privilege of any school activities for the next two weeks.”

You looked up at the headteacher.

“Your punishment for pulling the fire alarm, what we’re you thinking?”

“Forget it I’m going home not coming back to this stupid school.”

You tossed your bag on your shoulder and kicked your locker shut, making your way towards reception.

“You can’t just leave! Let’s talk about whatever’s going on.”

“You students and teacher are making me for my culture!”

You turned around, rolling your sleeves up to shoe the tribal designed tattoos.

“Mocking these.”

“Right and that’s not on, and I’ll talk to them, but you can’t just leave. Your bus won’t be here until after school how are you going to get back without it?”

“I’ve got a way.”

“Right well you still can’t just go walking out of school and pulling the fire alarm.”

You glared at him and walked outside, looking around.

“Forget it, I’m done with school I don’t need it anyways. Only doing it cause council said we had to.”

“Well you do need school.”

You whistled loudly and you waited, hands stuffed in your pockets.

“Let’s just go back inside and talk about this (Y/N), come on.”

“Not a change.”

You watched a shadow pass over and you ran in the direction it went, and Mr Evershed ran after you, calling your name and telling you to stop.

Running up the the empty field you looked around, a smile on your face.

“Come on bud where you gone?” You called.

Mr Evershed ran up the hill.

“Right whatever it is you’re doing, stop, come inside, we’ll talk, and we’ll get all this sorted.”

You looked behind Mr Evershed as the large black mass came gliding down towards you, and he landed behind you with a small purr.

Mr Evershed stared in disbelief and what he was saying.

“Hey toothless…” you whispered.

You ran a hand over his head and he looked at you as you climbed into the saddle on his back, and looked back at Mr Evershed.

Mr Evershed slowly back away, hands raised in the air and he tripped, falling backwards.

“Forget your stupid school, I’m not coming back.” You huffed.

Reaching out, you ran your hand over toothless’ head, scratching behind his ear.

“Let’s go home bud.”

Toothless raised his wings, and in one powerful motion you guys were in the air and in the blink of an eye you were gone.

Mr Evershed just stared at where you and Toothless were before slowly getting up and making his way back to his office to sit down.

He was trembling with fear, and he had absolutely no idea what to do now going forward, typically he would arrange a meeting with your parents, but it was just you, you didn’t have any, and the only option was to go to the village to see you.

And after what he had just seen he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to that.

You let go of the handle to the harness and you sighed leaning back, resting your head on the dragons back.

Toothless glanced at you, purring a little.

Reaching over, you tapped his side a few times.

“I hate outsiders.”

Toothless grumbled and you sat up with a laugh, leaning forward, you rested you hands on his head.

“Yeah I know you hate them too bud. Let’s just go home.”

Toothless looked at you then he dived down a little while turning.

You guys made it home in no time at all, and when he landed on the ground you jumped down, running inside the house you let him wait outside as you tossed your stuff aside and changed.

Making your way back outside, you ran down the road, waving at a few people who were milling about.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!”

You stopped, and toothless slid to a halt just behind you and sat on his back legs.

You grinned at the man in front of you.

“Hi chief Todo…” you mumbled.

“And why are we home so early?” He asked.

You took a deep breathe and huffed a bit.

“Because Im done with outsiders and their stupidity.”

Todo sighed, shaking his head and gestured for you to follow him so you did, up the hill and you both sat down on the bench while toothless ran down the other side to see the rest of the dragons.

“You know why you have to go, right?”

“I don’t want to go anymore, they’re making fun of our culture Todo, our traditions. We did a class in history on our family, and the teacher refused to let me show mine. They wouldn’t be so brave if I walked in with toothless…”

“People are narrow minded, but that doesn’t mean you can just run away from this. You know that.”

You shrugged a little.

“I don’t need anyone but toothless.”

Todo sighed a bit, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You cannot keep running from everything, one day you will have to face the things you run from kiddo. And you’ll also have to apologise to that poor teacher you scared the life out of.”

“Mr Evershed called you?”

“No. Emailed, though it didn’t make much sense until I saw toothless coming home.”

You shrugged again.

“Well, I don’t care. They all deserve it.”

With that, you got up and ran down the hill to be with your best friend and Todo sighed to himself.

He did try getting you to go back to school, but you refused, you were sat in the back of your house with a handful of clothes and you looked at the dragon sat in front of you.

“Ready bud?”

He nodded and sat back and you set the clothes in the hole in the ground and stepped back.

“Light em up toothless!”

He fired a purple blast and the clothes, and they burst into flames and you cheered loudly.

When you were sure the school clothes were burned you put the fire out and hopped over the fence, toothless behind you and you looked around for something to do.

Mr Evershed had tried emailing you, calling you, but you never responded, he emailed the email you had given them when you first started about you leaving, though he left out the part of the massive creature you had brought with you.

When you failed to come to school for a week, he emailed Todo again, asking if he could bring you in for a meeting.

When a few days went by and he didn’t get a reply, he sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“Just go to the village and talk to them all.” Mrs Carter said.

“That’s not really appropriate is it?”

“Well, from what I can gather (Y/N) mentioned before they don’t have any internet or phone lines in the village, so I assume they won’t receive any of these unless they leave.”

Mr Evershed furrowed his brows a little.

“Come on, it’s probably going to be the only chance you get to sort out whatever is going on here. It’s a an hour outside of Ackley, I’ll watch things here.”

Mr Evershed looked at her.

He was going to keep protesting but seeing the look she gave him he knew he didn’t have much of a choice but to go, so he reluctantly agreed.

And while he driving over there, he couldn’t help the anxiety he felt was feeling.

He pulling up outside a gate and he got out, looking at the sign on it.

If heading the village please walk the rest of the way, there is no suitable road for vehicles along here.

Mr Evershed sighed heavily, heading back to his car, he parked it, and left, making his way up the trial and following the signs.

When he reached the top of a hill, he looked down and he saw the village at the bottom, beautiful large houses, people running around or just talking.

And he made his way down to the bottom and looked around.

“Hello, can we help you?” A woman smiled.

“I’m actually looking for (Y/N), or Todo?”

The woman nodded and looked around.

“(Y/N) went away with toothless I believe, but you can find the chief over there by the well.”

She pointed down the street and he nodded, making his way over and he stood by the well looking a little confused.

“Mr Evershed I assume?”

Mr Evershed turned around and looked at the man in front of him.

“Yes, Todo?”

“That’s me, come on, let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

Mr Evershed nodded and followed him inside a building where they both sat down.

“How did you know who I was? I thought you didn’t get signal or WiFi here.”

“Well after (Y/N)s sudden departure from school, I figured it was only a matter of time until you came.”

Mr Evershed nodded again, looking at a few people who were sat in the cafe.

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Todo asked.

Mr Evershed looked back at the chief in confusion.

“Who?”

“The dragon behind (Y/N). Tall, fast, scales as black as coal. Sound familiar?”

Mr Evershed looked at the drink he was given and look back at the chief.

“Dragons aren’t real.”

“Keep telling yourself that, but that’s what you saw my friend. A dragon. Night fury.”

“I.. I don’t know what I saw but dragons are not real.”

Todo hummed, shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

“You keep saying that, but when you’re ready to admit what you saw, we’ll talk then.”

Todo got up and left, leaving Mr Evershed alone in the cafe.

There’s no way it could’ve been a dragon, because dragons were not real. Everyone knew that.

He sat lost on his head, and looked up when someone put a plate in front of him.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“You look a little pale, you should eat. It’s fine, but may I offer some advice?” The woman asked.

Mr Evershed nodded.

“Open your mind to the possibilities. Not all is what it seems you know.”

With that she left and Mr Evershed ate his sandwich, finished his drink and took his dishes back up, pulling out his wallet.

“Oh no, we don’t use currency in the village.”

“You don’t?”

“No of course not. That way no one has to go hungry or without a home. We trade mostly.”

“I.. don’t have anything to trade.”

“That’s fine too.” The woman beamed.

Mr Evershed set some money on the counter.

“I won’t feel right if I don’t give you something, thank you.”

He smiled and left, and looked around, finding Todo standing against the well again, and he walked over.

“(Y/N) needs to come back to school.”

“I’ve tried talking to them. They won’t go back because you lot are treating her horribly.”

“I’ve spoken to all the students and teachers, letters and emails have gone out. It’s not going to happen again.”

Todo sighed, and looked to the sky.

“Honestly, even if I could talk them back into going again, which I can’t, it’s not going to solve anything really. (Y/N) values our culture and traditions deeply, and it hurt that people were making fun of them.”

“The tattoos?”

Todo nodded.

“Look around, we all have them.”

“But they’re underage.”

“It’s a traditional practice for us. When you complete certain things, you get a tattoo as a right of passage in a way, to record milestones once you become a teenager.”

Todo began to explain the culture to Mr Evershed, and they walked around as he showed the headteacher different things in the village.

They reached the base of another hill.

“Regardless if you open you mind or not, it’s possible that there are things in this world people keep hidden. If you want proof, I can give you proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“Dragons Mr Evershed. Just like the one you saw behind young (Y/N).”

Todo began walked up the hill and Mr Evershed walked up with him, and when they reached the top of the hill, he saw the other side, dragons running around some of them flying lowly.

“These are our dragons, friends, family. They are an extension of who we are, just like toothless is for (Y/N).”

Mr Evershed shook his head.

“No, no it has to be something in the drinks or food.”

“It’s not, if you don’t believe me still, look up.”

And he did, seeing a small figure in the sky just flying around in circles.

“That’s a bird.”

“Is it?”

Todo whistled loudly, just like you did, and Mr Evershed watched as the bird figure turned around and dived straight down.

As it came closer it got bigger and bigger, and he heard a cheer and a roar, and when you came up to the hill, you jumped down, running a few steps until you stopped.

Toothless dived down the hill and when he landed he spun back around and ran up to stand behind you.

“Mr Evershed?”

“It’s… I didn’t dream that..?”

You looked at him then to your best friend.

“This is toothless. He’s my best friend.”

You smiled and put a hand on the dragons head, and he purred, leaning into your side.

“That’s not.. i..”

“I’m not going back to school.”

“Why?”

“Because you lot make fun of us! Because we don’t have WiFi! Or phone signals! Because of our tattoos and traditions!” You yelled.

“I’ve spoken to them, it’s not going to happen again, you can come back but.. he.. can’t.”

“I’m not going anywhere without toothless.” You huffed.

“You can’t bring that to the school!”

“Cool because I’m not going back!”

Todo placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a look and you muttered out an apology.

“I’m sorry toothless scared you sir but.. but I… I’m not going back…”

With that, you climbed back on to the dragons back and took off to the sky, and Mr Evershed watched as you flew a little lower this time, but still high in the sky.

“Toothless is their only family left. They have no one, and won’t listen to anyone. Even me, and I’m the chief.”

“What?”

Mr Evershed looked at him.

“Their parents passed away years ago, it’s just them, and toothless. They were both still young, (Y/N) had only gotten toothless a few months before, only just started training him.”

Mr Evershed looked up to the sky, and watched.

You were annoyed, and there was one way to cheer you up when you were annoyed.

“Wanna play a game bud?”

Toothless chirped.

“Then let’s go it!”

Toothless flew straight up, and you grinned to yourself, when he was high enough you pat his side.

“You better catch me.”

With that, you let go and angled yourself down, and toothless flipped backwards and dived down with you.

“Oh my god!” Mr Evershed yelled.

“It’s fine.”

“They’re going to die!”

Todo placed a hand on the teachers shoulder.

“Just watch.”

And they did, the watched as both you and toothless barrelled towards the village, and when you were close to you reached out, gripping the harness.

Toothless opened his wings and you both sped through the air, right above Mr Evershed and Todo as you went back up to do it again.

“They’re insane.”

“It’s trust. We all do it.”

“You’re all insane.”

Todo laughed.

“Maybe, but perhaps Mr Evershed, if you came back or stayed for while you would come to understand a bit more about us. Maybe you could earn (Y/N)s trust to get them to go back to school too.”

Mr Evershed thought about this, this was a side of you he hadn’t seen before, so maybe todo was right maybe it could help him bring you back to school

#Ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr Evershed #mr Everhsed x reader #mr Evershed x you #mr Evershed imagine

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