#Bell Tower AU

[sheepwithspecs]

Exponential

|| PLvsAA || Rated T || Series: Bell Tower AU ||

Ao3 Link

It was perfectly possible to fantasize about someone without ever wanting to act on those fantasies. Surely it was no different than daydreaming about a celebrity, or a handsome model in a magazine.

At the end of the day, the fact that she knew him personally meant nothing… right?

Her world is aflame, and the sight takes her breath away.

The creature stretches twenty, thirty feet high—towering over the thatched roofs, tall as the bell tower itself. Black armor shines with a lacquer finish, shimmering in the heat. Golden accents melt in thin rivulets down its torso, dripping form the gnarled talons as though drawn with a pointed brush. The ruby eye in the center of its chest weeps molten tears. It is Bezella’s envoy, her golem… her pet beast.

Some tales claim it to be the soul of the First Knight to stand up against the Great Witch’s wrath. Captured and tortured into insanity, it has become a wraith hellbent on vengeance against the very people it once protected. Others say that it is naught but a mindless apparition, a construct born of hate, deception, and all the vile things roaming just out of sight in the shadows. Something with no will of its own, beyond that of its evil mistress. It is rumored that to meet its heated gaze is to be frozen with terror, unable to escape. Death is rumored to live in those glowing embers.

Awestruck, she watches as the familiar skyline becomes a crumbling void of ash and anguish. The sulfur-laden breeze whips at her skirts, heat scorching her bare cheeks. Run, the wind seems to whisper. Its voice is the dry crackle of lit kindling. You are not immune to the flames. The skin crawls on her wrist, the echo of past flames licking a burning trail beneath her sleeve. Run, or it will be too late.

“Too late….” The words seem to snag on her parched lips. Barely audible over the crackling roar of burning wood, they are quickly swept up in the inferno. It is already too late for her; she is not afraid of this creature that stalks the burning streets, each thunderous step rumbling in the pit of her stomach. Quite the opposite, in fact: she finds herself enamored by the sight of something so majestic, so destructive.

The armored figure lifts an arm and, with a single, powerful sweep of its sword, sets another row of homes alight. The force of its blow is a scorching wind, nearly strong enough to send her flying. For one glorious moment her skirts are weightless, her veil fluttering behind her. She cannot help but gasp in sheer delight.

The sound alerts the fiend to her presence and it turns, fixing its sights on her. Flaming orbs in the otherwise inky darkness of its helmet, flickering with a preternatural glow. Her own eyes are hidden behind the golden helm on her brow, but she nevertheless sucks in a sharp breath as she is pinned beneath the force of that burning gaze.

The figure retraces its steps, the fiery folds of its burning cloak spreading on the wind. The first step nearly sets her teeth to chattering, windows in the nearby houses cracking and bursting with the force. It seems to both shrink and expand in the wavering heat, filling her gaze and yet growing smaller with each step. By the time it stands before her it is man-sized, though still tall enough that she must tilt her head to meet its eyes.  

My love. Her mouth forms the words, hands lifting in supplication—a silent plea. The golden joints of her gauntlets catch the firelight, glowing like gemstones. Heedless of her own safety, she throws her arms around the burning mantle, pressing herself against the ebony armor in a passionate embrace… and burns.

The gauntlets should have protected her hands, but the armor sears her palms with hellish fury. It is the icy heat of burning water the moment before pain makes itself known, her nerves screaming a plea to retreat. She does not listen, does not care, clinging tightly despite the pain; self-preservation is somehow not as important as the desperate need to be wholly consumed.

Her lips press fervent kisses to the black helmet, smears of lipstick decorating the melting golden scrolls. Each kiss is like the nip of a candle snuffed between her fingers, a sharp caress that prevents her from lingering as long as she’d like. Strong arms crush her against the metal plating and she hisses, part pain and part pleasure.

“Please.” She scratches at its shoulders, the grating screech of metal on metal as she claws with feverish abandon. This burning demon is the only one who can fill the yawning void within her, set fire to her nerves so that even it hurts—even if she goes mad with the pain—it would at least be something beyond the numb emptiness that envelops her heart. “Please.” A rumbling growl is all the reply she can hope for, an unsettling sound that sets her heart aquiver… though not with fear.

Mindless and frantic, disregarding the pain in her fingers, she lifts the helmet from its head. Scorching lips find her own and she is filled with a very different sort of fire, molten heat pooling in her stomach. Hands fist roughly in her skirts, teeth dragging over her pulse through the thin fabric of her veil. She squirms in the iron grip, panting as she surrenders herself to this merciless creature.

Poor thing. She can no longer tell if the voice is on the wind, or within her own mind. If witches are indeed destined for the flames, then perhaps this is the most fitting end for you. Burning alive in the arms of a fiend. Her head falls back, a broken moan dying in her chest as teeth sink into her throat. A rush of crimson joins the molten gold pooling at her feet. Blood money, she thinks fuzzily, tangling her fingers in the flaming cloak.

Her skin blisters in the heat, yet her body grows cool as the demon drinks her lifeblood. She gazes absently at the heavens, the stars veiled in smoke. Was this what the saints felt in their ecstasies?  Reclined in the arms of angelic messengers, witness to tableaus kept hidden from the mortal gaze? She closes her eyes, content to revel in the blissful scene. Two figures in her mind’s eye, clasped in a lover’s embrace, outlined by a curtain of flames.

The Great Witch and the Envoy, forever intertwined.

 Eve woke with a gasp, sweat beading on her brow.

For a moment she lay frozen, unable to get her bearings in the unfamiliar darkness. Her eyes were still dazzled by phantom flames that, even now, seemed to dance in the folds of the curtains drawn across the far window. Her heart beat out of time, fists clenched in the bedsheets.

A familiar snore, half-muffled behind the closed bedroom door, cut through her fear like a knife. All at once she remembered exactly where she was: one of the private Labrelum suites, usually reserved for visiting employees from the overseas branches. The meeting with Project Labyrinthia’s chief financial backer had ran late and she found it much easier to crash here, rather than be sandwiched in a helicopter between Cantabella and— She winced as another snore, louder than the first, trailed off into a sleepy grunt.

There’s no reason for you to stay. Go home.

I’m not leaving.

Unless you rent a hotel room, you’ll be stuck on the sofa.

…I’m fine with that.

“Idiot,” she muttered, more to herself than to the obstinate man spending the night on cheap vinyl cushions. She wiped the sweat from her face with both hands, an unbidden sigh escaping her chapped lips. It was only a bad dream after all. Normally, it was an easy manner for her to avoid dreaming; she merely ensured that she was exhausted by the time she collapsed into her bed. For Eve, dreams meant coming face to face with memories that she would have rather kept hidden from sight.

But that dream had been different. That was no memory; that was… that was… what was that? Frowning, she plucked at the damp sheets as they stuck to her skin. The impromptu decision to stay in London had meant she’d been left with no choice but to sleep in her underwear. Ever the gentleman, Barnham had loaned her the use of his dress shirt. It was better than nothing, but she still missed the cool, crisp texture of her well-starched nightgown. Kicking off the sheet, she quickly unbuttoned the shirt and let it fall to her sides.

Bared and shivering in the night air, she let her thoughts wander the fragmented pieces of her lost dream. Of all the things to dream about, why the Envoy? That was about as ridiculous as dreaming of Bezella herself. The Great Witch’s pet demon was no portent of fiery doom: it was just another one of Zack’s multiple roles. Not having the same dramatic flair for long-winded soliloquies, he preferred instead to play silent roles outside the confines of the Witch’s Court.

The Envoy was one of his easiest roles to assume; the Labyrinthians were all but guaranteed to be terrified out of their wits by the mere mention of a sighting. All he needed to do was look menacing and swing his sword, maybe growl a few death threats if the crowd was feeling particularly courageous. The ink handled the rest, filling in the gaps. The people did not see a man in a suit of armor. They saw the personification of the Great Witch’s wrath.

At least, that’s what she assumed. She had no way of knowing what exactly the Labyrinthians saw, other than general details that had crept into the fabric of their culture: a suit of black armor, a flaming mantle, eyes that glowed like embers, a sword forged of hellfire. Eve trembled, a curious thrill raising the hair on her arms. The creature in her dream would have frightened any normal person. She knew that she ought to have been frightened. Instead, she had all but swooned in its burning embrace.

Are you really about to unpack this now? At 2:30 am?

Eve flipped onto her stomach, burying her face into the cool side of the understuffed pillow. Tomorrow was a Parade day, which meant that the two of them would need to be back in Labyrinthia well before noon in order to keep general suspicion low. High Inquisitor Darklaw could not been seen with bags under her eyes; and yet here she was, wide awake, practically vibrating with anxious energy.

“Ugh.” She groaned, pressing her face even deeper into the flimsy pillow. Outside, the vinyl cushions squeaked as Barnham turned over. An aching loneliness filled her at the sound. In the past, she wouldn’t have thought twice about waking him and asking that he sit with her until she could manage to drift off. On the nights when she was unable to sleep, it was always a comfort to know that he was next to her, stretched out atop the blankets and well within arm’s reach. But since Espella’s trial, a strange gulf had risen between them—one she had no clue how to breach.

It's all his fault, she grumbled to herself. It was the same excuse she’d made time and time again in the weeks following the trial. He had been the one to say—to promise—that they’d talk later. But ‘later’ had never arrived, and now she couldn’t bring up the incident in the broom closet without feeling awkward and out of place.

Admittedly, she hadn’t made it easy for him to get her alone. When they were in the Court office, she insisted he speak only when the subject was Labyrinthian business. In the throne room, she had ears for no one but the Shades. Any other time, she found that she could hardly bear the tense, uncomfortable silence. More often than not, she made excuse to leave within five minutes or less.

He seemed to be waiting for her to approach the subject; she, on the other hand, refused to be the first to speak. She couldn’t look at him without remembering the gentle way he’d spoken her given name, or how soft his lips had felt beneath her fingertips, and how frantic her poor heart had been, and how the bag had dropped from her shoulder, ruining—no, rescuing—no—

Ugh! She growled, kicking the mattress with her heels as loudly as she dared. Why can’t I get his stupid face out of my head?! Two months had passed since the trial, but she still couldn’t think about him without being flooded with all sorts of confusing, conflicting emotions. On the surface, nothing had changed. They continued to work together to carry out the Storyteller’s will, walking the razor-thin line between heroes and villains in their turn. They consigned witches to a fiery grave, and resurrected them as ink stained ghosts of their former selves. They kept watch over Espella Cantabella from the shadows, ensuring that her fairie tale life remained as consistent as possible.

It wouldn’t be so terrible, she mused, if I could only figure him out. Zacharias Barnham was a puzzle that, despite her intelligence and insight, remained impossible to crack. Some days he seemed to make every excuse to stand just a little too close: ‘accidentally’ brushing his hand over the small of her back when guarding her in public, lingering a moment too long while helping her dismount her horse. Other days he ignored her with an ease that was heartbreaking to behold. Nothing would make him glance in her direction, his eyes staring right through her as if she wore a cloak of invisibility.

Deep down, Eve knew that he must have felt the same about her. At times, she clung to his side with a desperation that even she didn’t fully understand. And then—sometimes within the same day—she refused to speak to him though they spent hours holed up together in their office.

It wasn’t right! Barnham was supposed to be her best friend, aside from Espella—though she could hardly call Espella a friend, when her very existence had been erased from memory. Barnham was her assistant, her helpmeet, her accomplice… her protector, always, from the time they were small children. He was her first visitor in the hospital following the Great Fire, sneaking from his hospital bed to sit at the foot of hers. I’ll guard you with my life. That’s what a knight does.

For over thirteen years he’d honored that promise. Now where was he? Sleeping on the sofa, instead of at her side. They were hurting one another: she knew it, and she couldn’t stand it… but neither could she stop it from happening.

Countless nights she’d spent wondering what might have happened if things had gone differently. If Mr. Wright had not insisted on a not-guilty plea. If the bag had not slipped from her shoulder. If they had spoken in the hotel room that evening, instead of separating in terse silence. If she had allowed him to do things his way, without argument, trusting in his abilities. If she had not ran the first time he tried to make things right.

Oh, Zack…. She hid her face in the loose lapels of his shirt, breathing in the familiar scent. I don’t know how to fix this… fix us. How could he sleep so soundly? Was he unburdened by the same thoughts? The same regrets? He was the sort of man who wore his heart on his sleeve, but that did not help her here. She knew his heart; it was his brain that she wanted. She yearned to be privy to the thoughts that raced behind those steely, unflinching eyes.

The dream still floated on the fringes of her mind, the faceless entity replaced with thoughts of the man who assumed its form. Her throat tingled with the memory of searing lips against her pulse, the sharp nip of pointed canines, the way he had bitten her—kissed her. Or, rather… how she had kissed him. Eve swallowed thickly, a blush rising to her cheeks as her heart beat heavily against her sternum. Surely it didn’t mean anything, right? It was only a dream. But it had felt so real….

Perhaps it was better that he stayed on the sofa, rather than coming into the bedroom with her. Even now, the memory of her dream sparked beneath her skin, warming the blood in her veins. Her bare skin seemed to glow in the moonlight streaming through the curtains, a reminder that she wore next to nothing. If he did walk in without making his presence known, he was bound to get a healthy eyeful.

Shamefaced, she quickly began buttoning the shirt back up the front. What on earth had come over her? Not ten minutes before, she had been ready to wake him up in the dead of night, dressed only in his shirt and a pair of cotton briefs. Barnham was a man of honor, and while sensible, her underwear was admittedly lacking in seduction. But she would be a fool to believe a situation like that would not—could not—have an immediate effect on them both.

She could hardly handle the thought of being kissed in broad daylight, fully dressed! What would happen if he saw her now? What would she do if he touched her through the thin fabric of his own shirt? If he kissed her in the quiet, welcoming darkness? The last thing either of them needed was to ruin their friendship with unnecessary feelings. The burden would be too much; they would crumble beneath its weight.

Besides, she definitely did not want to kiss him. Dreams were simply dreams, nothing more. It was perfectly possible to fantasize about someone without ever wanting to act on those fantasies. Surely it was no different than daydreaming about a celebrity, or a handsome model in a magazine. At the end of the day, the fact that she knew him personally meant nothing… right?

There is one surefire way to fall asleep quickly.

Eve brushed the sticky bangs from her forehead, frowning at the blank white canvas of the ceiling. In her mind, she turned over all the cartoonish depictions of shoulder angels and demons, whispering thoughts into waiting ears. Unfortunately, her angel was being deceptively quiet tonight.  

It won’t take much. Isn’t it your duty to comply? After all, you said it yourself: we can’t be out of form on a Parade day.

She squirmed, kicking the sheets further down the bed as her fingers plucked nervously at the top button of her borrowed shirt. While it was true that a well-timed orgasm did help to clear her brain and settle her thoughts, there was no way she could bring herself to do that while Barnham lay asleep in the next room. The thought of him waking up and hearing her, or worse—of mistaking her sounds as distress and bursting into the room….

I’d die. I would absolutely die. He would die too, probably by dashing his brains out on the doorframe in an attempt to escape.

Willing herself to fall into a doze, she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on remaining entirely motionless. A bead of sweat tickled the back of her neck, jaw clenched to the point of pain and nails biting crescent scars into her palms. In the hallway, a clock on the wall seemed to tick louder and louder with each passing second. Barnham continued to snore in the main room, a deep, rhythmic sound that only served to remind her of his presence. It was no use; like it or not, she was wide awake.

Come on… you know how to fix this. It’s not like he’ll ever know.

Her eyes flew open, a scowl flitting across her face. If she touched herself now, it would not be to the thought of him. There had to be someone else, anyone else. Her thighs clenched reflexively, a flush creeping down her throat in the darkness. The dream was still so fresh in her mind. Was it better to think of the Envoy? Was that too much? If she thought of it only as it appeared in her dream—faceless, formless—then perhaps that was different than imagining Zack beneath the helmet.

Guiltily, stealthily, her hand smoothed over her bare stomach. Her skin was warm, pliant beneath her palm and sensitive to the scratch of her nails. Eve let out a shuddering breath as she ran her fingertips over the cotton, down between her legs. She allowed her eyes to drift shut, teasing herself through the fabric with a featherlight touch as she thought of firelight and flickering shadows.

Curtains of flame.

Burning metal.

Melting gold.

A bruising grip.

Sharp teeth.

Full lips.

Red hair.

Eve….

Her breath hitched, hips canting as she arched into her own touch. A whine eased its way into her throat, fear and morbid curiosity crowding her jumbled thoughts. The creased fabric of his shirt seemed to press into her, dragging across her skin with each ragged breath. She dared not give voice to her pleasure, lower lip caught between her teeth as she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric.

When she mouths his name, lost somewhere between thoughts of keen eyes and warm, calloused hands, she feels both defeat and elation. A strange dichotomy, the two, building on itself with every guilty thrust.  

Forever intertwined.

#plvsaa #plvspw #professor layton vs. phoenix wright ace attorney #professor layton vs ace attorney #barnlaw #zacharias barnham #Eve Belduke #Darklaw #AU #Canon Divergence #Bell Tower AU #fanfiction #my writing

[uhoh-peppinos]

Some misc Fromage Factory doodles...

(none of these are fucking signed but its fine)

#uhoh! #pizza tower #pizza tower au #fromage factory #the noise #ted slander #pino pasta #evil peppino #slim (mr. stick) #bells (pepperman) #aimless (vigilante) #(augh hate tagging)

[sallertiafabrica]

City of Fools

Chapter 20: The Bug, the Fox, and the Tower

It all began with a bug and a fox, on top of a tower.

Now changed, they go back there.

#yeah. the tower’s perspective’s weird and definitely innacurate. but I already struggle enough with background as is #City of Fools #Trickster AU #Trickster #Blue Belle #Marinette Cheng #Felix Culpa #Felinette #Ladybug Classic #Sal Draws #finished drawing #my writing #Felinette Fanfic

[greypetrel]

✨ Last Line Game ✨

Tagged by @buridanshorse to share the last line I wrote, thank you!

I indulged in the Dark CAT Lady thing, yesterday:

“Thank you. Me neither." Aisling shrugged, hand raising to scratch the old tabby behind the one ear that missed the point. "I discarded that form soon. It’s nice to curl and sleep whenever, but I much prefer having opposable thumbs.”

(Apparently the first version of Sauron was as Tevildo, the Prince of Cats. Of course I'm keeping it.)

(and I decided that Cullen is one of those dog people that will tell you he doesn't like cats all that much... And will be, as a consequence, absolutely adored by every cat he meets. He'll yield because you cannot not pet a fluffball that headbutts you and rubs their whole body against you, can you? It would be rude. And in no time he'll let them sleep on his pillow, with him, save them morsels and leftovers when he eats fish or meat, pour some milk to them as well -edited because herearedragons made me notice it was doubtful: he'll serve them milk not knowing cats can't have milk. He'll be stopped we're not making the cats sick, he's just a first-time cat hooman. Accept his fate as being adopted by cats.)

Tagging in turn: @rowanisawriter @ndostairlyrium @herearedragons and @eowyn7023 and YOU who are reading this!

(ignore the tag if you mind it, as per usual)

#last line tag #aisling the dark lady au #writing petrel #cullen is an animal person come on #he came to visit her and discovered that ger tower is full of cats. every door has a tiny door for them. #she minded the collar with the tiny little bell she has when she turned into a cat #the bell was very annoying to a cat's hearing you see #and she couldn't paw herself free. #*adds scene of a cat rolling around trying to kick his collar off*

[filmap]

Glocken aus der Tiefe / Bells From the Deep Werner Herzog. 1993

MonasteryPokrovsky Monastery, Pokrovskaya Ulitsa, 76, Suzdal, Vladimir Oblast, Rusia, 601293 See in map

See in imdb

#werner herzog #glocken aus der tiefe #bells from the deep #russia #bell tower #bonus #monastery #cathedral #bell #church #sergiyev posad #vladimir oblast #suzdal #movie #cinema #film #location #google maps #street view #1993

[lady-belleslettres]

Phantom of the Opera x Pizza Tower AU (part 1) 👀

With The Noise as Erik and Noisette as Christine Daae.

I'm planning to draw The Vigilante as Raoul next.

Reference:

#Lady Belles-lettres' art #pizza tower #pt noisette #pt the noise #pizza tower fanart #pizza tower au #pizza tower the noise #pizza tower noisette #noisette #the noise #phantom of the opera

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Day XII ~ The Long Night Draws Near @thebiggestlies

She's been counting down from Thanksgiving to now with ever increasing excitement. She imagined it a thousand times as she stood in shopping lines. She buys a few things she has no intention of anyone else seeing, at least not in day-to-day life. And once it finally arrives? She's shoving Andy out the door reminding him that he swapped shifts with some of his work friends so that they could spend the holidays with their kids. A few kisses and shoving treat trays for the other detectives and there he goes. Yes, it's only three in the afternoon but she has some work to do. Instead of carols, she throws on one of her more sensual playlists and takes a long hot shower. A sea-salt scrub, a new shampoo and conditioner set that smell like pikake flowers, soft and subtle and sweet. She applies lotion to her skin though she avoids her inner thighs, her throat, her wrists. Mists herself with warm sandalwood and blood orange essential oils. Layers herself in silk and lace, complimentary textures. She leaves her hair down, she leaves it in its natural curls rather than straightening it to within an inch of her life. The only make up she bothers with is a touch of mascara, some eyeliner, and a smokey lid shade to enhance the natural colours of her irises. She sips a half a glass of mulled wine and makes sure the spices and apple taste lingers on her tongue, her lips, in her blood. Makes a present of herself for him to unwrap tonight a little at a time. Oh she has other gifts for him; a first edition of Anatomia Humani Corporis by Govard Bidloo, published in 1685, complete with 105 engraved plates after Gérard de Lairesse, who himself had been a devotee of Rembrandt. Another is Mayakovsky's A Cloud in Trousers. Вашу мысль мечтающую на размягченном мозгу, как выжиревший лакей на засаленной кушетке, буду дразнить об окровавленный сердца лоскут: досыта изъиздеваюсь, нахальный и едкий. ~Your thoughts, dreaming on a softened brain, like an over-fed lackey on a greasy settee, with my heart's bloody tatters I'll mock again; impudent and caustic, I'll jeer to superfluity.~ Her Russian is getting better. She thinks he will appreciate that sentiment toward most kine that are not his herd, and she bears no jealousy toward their hunger for him in return. Her Poet will return to her always, and she has the luxury of centuries to dance his attendance. Tonight though, is the Solstice, the longest night of the year. The sun will set in an hour, and will not be reborn until well after seven in the morning. Even the universe wants them to have this time together. So she doesn't waste a single precious moment taking herself and her gifts to his haven, letting herself in. She waits for him in candle light, perusing through his Ferlinghetti.

#thebiggestlies #Left the Bell Tower|Mikhail Alkovich #White Translucent Black|Mischa and Beth #Mists at Midnight|Vampire the Masquerade au #Latchkey Saints|Mage the Ascension au #Brooklyn Stories|New York

[lexa-griffins]

Where are clexa's favorite places to hookup in nun au? The confessional box, bell tower, chapel, etc 👀

Clarke enjoys the confessional. Lexa on her knees, making Lexa repent of her sins, forcing Lexa's face harder between her legs telling Lexa over and over to repent harder. And then sitting Lexa on her lap, her back pressed to her chest, legs opened while she fucks her with her fingers and kisses her chest, leaving the poor nun completely exposed to any poor soul who might open the door.

Lexa.... Lexa likes the altar. There's something so devilishly sinful about it, being forced to bend over the table, fucked from behind as she stares at the face of god. Seeing the distorted reflection of her naked form and Clarke behind her on the gold of the altar, knowing later she'll stand here receiving the body of christ where Clarke now takes hers.... The blasphemy of it all..... she adores it.

#letter opened #au: nun lexa #they fucked on the bell tower once on the steps #its a short corridor and they lost track of time until they heard someone open the door to ring the bell #and they had to pretend Lexa was giving Clarke a lesson about the history of their beloved bell

[elliesbelle]

I’ve been seeing a lot of knight!Ellie and knight!Abby fics lately and I was wondering if you would be up to writing something like that! I feel like it’d be really good from your POV!

that’d be a really cool thing to write tbh! i don’t really have anything in mind just yet but i’ll keep it in mind for the future :)

#i love knight!ellie x princess reader aus… #someone rescue me from my tower or whatever #anon #belle answers

[sheepwithspecs]

Augend

|| PLvsAA || Rated T || Series: Bell Tower AU ||

Ao3 Link

A crackpot inspector, an unexpected trial, and a two-clown circus defense sharing a single braincell....  Clearly, things are not going well for Ms. Darklaw, supposed teacher at the Owl Cote School for Young Women. Thankfully, this time she's not alone.

[AU where Barnham was also in the bell tower on the night of the Great Fire.]

<p>“Elusive Jewel Thieves at Large in London! Scotland Yard on Red Alert!”</p>

<p><em>This doesn’t bode well.</em> Darklaw folded the newspaper over in her hands, thumb covering the main photograph as she stared at the tiny print. She was alone in the court lobby, or nearly so; most of the gallery had flooded into the sunny streets the moment the judge called for recess, eager for a breath of fresh air. The rest had joined the growing queue outside the toilets, idly discussing the trial as they waited. The only ones left, besides herself and Espella, were the two policemen standing guard in front of the courtroom doors.</p>

<p>Her jaw clenched as she scanned the article once more, searching the text for anything incriminating. Of course, there was nothing at all to suggest that today’s trial had anything to do with the thieves—how could it? The <em>Times </em>article merely stated that all potential leads had gone cold, leaving the inspector in charge under immense pressure from the city’s elite.</p>

<p>However, there was also nothing to dissuade her growing fear. Even though she had no concrete evidence to base her concerns on, it didn’t help that the incident on the freighter had been too suspicious to dismiss as mere coincidence. The chef, coming to the cargo hold even though it was too late in the evening for a supply run. The desperate fight over a plush toy that couldn’t cost more than a few pounds. Something wasn’t right….</p>

<p><em>It doesn’t matter</em>. Her job wasn’t to find the thieves, so there was no sense in wasting time worrying over it. Compared to this whale of a news story, Espella’s trial was the size of a common gnat. If luck were on her side, it would remain a footnote at the bottom of a court record no one would bother reading.     </p>

<p><em>Still. </em>Darklaw scowled, rubbing the side of her neck. Her shoulders were tight from stress, aching for the relief of a hot shower. Relaxation hadn’t been an option lately; she’d barely had time to breathe since that crack investigator’s automobile escape. <em>This shouldn’t have been allowed to escalate in the first place, </em>she scolded herself. <em>If I’d only known that this would happen, then perhaps—</em></p>

<p>“Phew.” The heavy sigh of relief carried across the lobby. Darklaw kept her face pointed firmly at the article, eyes lifting to see that <em>bothersome </em>defense attorney and his noisy assistant. According to the League of Attorneys, they were foreigners on some sort of goodwill exchange program to London. Their mannerisms, as well as his clear nervousness in the courtroom, had clearly reflected their lack of local knowledge. Their conversation was loud enough that everyone in the lobby was privy to it, whether they wanted to be or not.</p>

<p>“Glad the first part’s over,” Mr. Wright said, rubbing his temples with a strained smile. “That witness was quite a…” He paused, chewing over his words. “…character.”</p>

<p>“I bet he’d love to be one,” Ms. Fey quipped, palm pressed against her cheek. “…In a crime drama. He’d end up making it a comedy, though.” Clearly, the first witness’s lack of decorum hadn’t left a favorable impression with either of them. Not that Darklaw could blame them, though. At home, her partner was in charge of the town’s security; he kept his men in top form, so she was used to near perfection. An officer of such low caliber would never have passed the entrance exams, much less been allowed on patrol alone.</p>

<p>“I’d hate it if poor Espella was found guilty because of his shaky testimony,” Ms. Fey continued, shaking her head. The beads around her neck clattered against the ones on her long bangs. “But at least now it looks like we might be able to get Espella a “not guilty” verdict.”</p>

<p><em>That was <strong>not</strong> the deal! </em>Darklaw bit her tongue, seething inwardly at the words. The trial so far had been an absolute farce, the worst part being that none of it should have happened in the first place. Mr. Wright had been given clear orders to accept the plea bargain, and he’d ignored them. Perhaps that was a normal occurrence in <em>his </em>country, but in England attorneys were supposed to represent the best interests of their clients!</p>

<p>“Yeah,” Mr. Wright agreed, proving her point. “I hope that cheered Espella up a bit.” He looked out over the lobby, stopping dead in his tracks as her caught her eye. Darklaw frowned, her fist tightening around the newspaper until the inspector’s face crumpled beneath her thumb. “…Ack!” he choked, gulping hard. She could see his thoughts as clearly as if he’d spoken them aloud. In the small wake of his triumph, he’d forgotten all about her.</p>

<p>“She’s reading my newspaper,” Ms. Fey commented in surprise.</p>

<p>“Maybe it’s just me, but she doesn’t look pleased….” </p>

<p><em>Because I am not, sir. Not pleased in the slightest. </em>She folded the paper in half once more, making a neat square as she rose to face them fully. <em>And I know I’m not the only one. </em>As if reading her mind, her bag began to vibrate against her hip. She could feel her phone buzzing incessantly in the front pocket, rattling the cat charm on the bag’s chain. One hand automatically clutched the strap on her shoulder, fingers tight around the leather as she willed herself to ignore it. <em>You’ll just have to wait, </em>she mentally chided the phone, knowing full well who would be on the other line.</p>

<p>“Oh, it’s you.” She wanted to tear into him, to rip that foolishly grinning face to shreds with her words. Unfortunately, her authority didn’t carry over into this world. Instead, she graced him with her best neutral displeasure. “I appreciate your efforts, Mr. Wright….”</p>

<p>Had it not been for the company’s name on the line, she might have appreciated them more. The appeal of ambition wasn’t lost on her, but there was a time and place for everything. If the press were to catch wind of Labrelum’s involvement in the trial, however circumstantial, they might be nosy enough to dig up some old family secrets. What’d they’d find was an untapped goldmine of tabloid content, especially considering the fact that her father was so recently—</p>

<p>Setting her jaw, Darklaw pushed the thought from her mind. There’d be time enough for introspection later, and besides—it did no good to concern herself with something that would most likely never happen. She’d worked hard to secure this plea bargain, and even harder keeping Espella suppressed enough to stand trial. All that effort, wasted on a two-bit defense attorney who couldn’t follow simple instructions… it was far more than a crying shame.</p>

<p>“Um… thank you.” Mr. Wright blushed, mistaking her cool tone as politeness.</p>

<p>“But,” she continued, not allowing him to bask in the imagined compliment, “while I understand your drive to win this case….”</p>

<p>“M-my drive?” Darklaw crossed her arms, pointedly looking away as she delivered her own verdict.</p>

<p>“…This is not the time for your personal ambitions.” Mr. Wright looked shocked, hands hanging loosely at his sides.</p>

<p>“I don’t….”</p>

<p>“I told you before, didn’t I?” Darklaw allowed her inner frustrations to shine through her otherwise stalwart demeanor. “That Espella is pleading guilty, and that you should accept the proposed punishment.”</p>

<p>Both Mr. Wright and Ms. Fey looked towards Espella, who stood demurely nearby. She was still in a trance, swaying slightly on her feet and offering no emotion whatsoever. She didn’t seem to hear anything the others were saying, her large eyes fixed on the window across the lobby.</p>

<p>“This… incident has already been settled between our school and the police.” That was the true reason that Mr. Wright had been specially selected. Darklaw had hoped that by securing him for the trial, she could avoid an English defense—one that might raise eyebrows at how quickly the case was being settled.</p>

<p>A foreigner was less likely to recognize the Cantabella name, and they certainly wouldn’t know that the Owl Cote School for Young Women didn’t exist. Their orders had been simple: secure Espella, keep her safe in the modern world, and return her to Labyrinthia by any means necessary. The trial was nothing more than a minor wrench in the works. That being said….</p>

<p>Even with the Court’s most prolific men on the hunt for the jewel thief, it had taken a lot of hard bargaining on her part to pull the strings. Darklaw personally detested under-the-table dealings; they were distasteful at best, sleazy at worst. She had to admit, though, that political greed and a pretty face often made for a satisfying equation… on her end, at least.</p>

<p>Several officials had been more than willing to work things out over a “private lunch”, complete with invitations to fancy establishments overlooking London’s more picturesque views. Their slimy attitudes only made it more fun to crush their dreams entirely; it was incredibly cathartic to show up to their date with a young, handsome business partner in tow, watching their middle-aged faces fall in despair.</p>

<p>“But, Ms. Darklaw!” Ms. Fey implored, eyes wide and fists clutched at her breast. “Espella could be innocent!” It took everything she had to keep from rolling her eyes. Of <em>course </em>she was innocent; did they really not see her meaning? The crux of the matter was not the verdict itself, but whether or not they were willing to honor their client’s wishes! </p>

<p>“Believe me,” she managed, “it would be in Espella’s best interest if you end the trial as soon as possible.” There was a practical reasoning behind her request. It was next to impossible to know just how long Espella’s hypnosis would last. Indefinitely, in theory, but the ink was never meant to be so heavily administered. Three extra doses had already been given in an effort to keep her calm.</p>

<p>That sort of exposure often had very unintended side effects; she, for one, wasn’t willing to wait around for them to start kicking in. The result was already unnerving, especially in her current dissociated state of mind. Still, it was a necessary evil.</p>

<p>“The more this trial drags on,” Darklaw added, “the more traumatic it is for this poor girl.” That was the truest falsehood she’d ever spoken. If everything went as planned, Espella would have no memories of the trial, or of modern-day London. As soon as they returned to Labyrinthia, her memories could be restored to a time before the impromptu abduction. Everything would be as it was before: that was the will of Labryinthia’s creator. But it was dangerous to play with fire, hanging hopes on theories and maybes.</p>

<p>“I…” Mr. Wright looked utterly crestfallen. “I’m sorry….” He sighed, shoulders slumping. She could see the gears turning behind his polite expression. <em>He isn’t a bad man. </em>Mr. Wright’s intentions were as pure as anyone’s. Maybe more so, seeing as he was willing to go so far for a complete stranger, and in a foreign country at that. <em>The road to Hell, as they say… it’s being paved as he speaks.</em></p>

<p>“In any case, Mr. Wright…. We don’t want our school being shoved into the limelight because of this case.” It would be a PR nightmare of unspeakable proportions. The school couldn’t be found on any map, after all, and there were no alumni to speak of. It hadn’t even a full day’s establishment; Darklaw had made the name up before breakfast while helping Espella to pin the owl brooch to the front pocket of her brand new uniform.</p>

<p>“So if you could keep form picking at meaningless details, such as that toy….” She all but shuddered to think of it, the entire crate staring out into the shadowy cargo hold. Who on earth would want such a homely little plushie? The blank, empty void of its eyes was more unsettling than Espella’s current stare.</p>

<p>“Get this trial over with quickly. This is your client’s wish, Mr. Wright.” Their eyes locked for a long moment; his slid away first, expression wilting under the force of her gaze.</p>

<p>“….I understand. I’ll do my best.”</p>

<p>“It’s a relief to hear that.” She nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are some formalities I must attend to before the trial resumes. Espella, stay here in the lobby until you’re called for.” The girl blinked once, slowly, as she processed the direct order.</p>

<p>“Yes, Ms. Darklaw.”</p>

<p>“Very good.” Darklaw turned on her heel, reaching into the bag for her mobile as she walked in the direction of the toilets. Behind her, Ms. Fey let out an angry huff.</p>

<p>“What the heck was that all about?! We’ve been bustin’ our butts in there trying to prove Espella is innocent, and she expects us to give up <em>now</em>?!” Mr. Wright’s reply was lost as she turned the corner, opening her phone with one hand.</p>

<p>There were no less than seven missed calls, followed by a single text message. <em>Upstairs, second hallway to the right. I’ll find you. </em>Rolling her eyes, Darklaw returned the phone to its pocket before maneuvering around the toilet queues. At the opposite end of the L-shaped lobby, a double set of stairs framed the courtroom’s main entrance; she climbed them rapidly, one hand steadying her bag at her hip.</p>

<p>The upper floor continued lower’s color scheme, gilded wainscoting intersected at regular intervals by green columns. In an alcove made for reporters, cameramen were setting up equipment for a post-trial interview. Two attorneys leaned against the railing overlooking the lobby, debating in hushed tones. No one spared a glance as she passed by, heels clicking on the polished marble tile. </p>

<p>She found the second hallway and turned, keeping her head high and gait even. If anyone caught sight of her, they would see a woman on her way to an important appointment, one who knew exactly where she was headed. Richly furnished offices lined both sides of the hallway, leather seating and mahogany bookshelves backlit by PC monitors. They were all currently abandoned, their occupants either in session or out to an early lunch. </p>

<p>Darklaw felt her partner’s presence before she saw him, the tailcoat of his high-end suit little more than a green flash in her peripherals. He slowed his long stride to match her pace, their movements syncing with a natural ease that came from years of working alongside one another. Neither spoke, his hand lightly brushing her right elbow in a sort of greeting before gesturing to a door left ajar at the end of the hall.</p>

<p>Fully expecting to find another office, she stopped short when she was met with a custodian’s rolling cart instead of an attorney’s desk. Her heels clattered on bare concrete as she tried to turn back, shoulder smacking painfully against a low hanging shelf. He crowded in after her, kicking the door shut behind him and trapping them in the cramped darkness. The only source of light in the closet was a dying bulb, dangling barely a hand’s breadth from his forehead.</p>

<p><em>Row upon row of empty offices, and he chooses a broom closet. How cliché. </em>She rubbed the sting from her shoulder with a grimace, nose wrinkling at the musty odor of wet cloth and camphor. However, her complaints fizzled before she could give them a voice, quelled by his expression. He’d grown visibly agitated in the courtroom, his smug mask slipping more than once when faced with the defense’s objections. But now his lips were a tight, bloodless line, eyes blazing at her through the flickering shadows. She could practically hear his molars grinding themselves to dust.</p>

<p>“I don’t suppose you’d care to explain.” The snarl in his voice went straight through her, an electric jolt that raised the hair on her arms. He often used the same tone when disciplining his men— knights who’d not only disappointed him, but had forsaken their honor in the process. Until now, she’d never been the one on the receiving end of his fury. It was easy to see why men twice his age were left rattling in their boots.</p>

<p>“Explain?” She swallowed heavily, doing everything possible to avoid his gaze. His eyes were unnerving in ways she couldn’t understand; there was no good way to describe how she felt when trapped beneath one of his poignant looks, the kind that stole the breath from her lungs and left her heart stuttering in her chest. It simply wouldn’t do—she needed her wits about her, especially at a time like this.</p>

<p>It didn’t help that he was so… so <em>close</em>. Although they were on opposite sides of the closet, she could have reached out and easily touched his chest without moving more than her arm. To call it distracting would be an understatement, and yet—again, there was no rhyme or reason as to why it bothered her. This was her lifelong friend and partner in crime, for pete’s sake! Zacharias Barnham, the one person who knew her almost as well as she knew herself!  </p>

<p>If anything, the intimate space between them should have felt comfortable, safe. Instead it filled her with a prickly tension, one that settled uneasily in the pit of her stomach. She studied the diamond pattern on his vest, tracing it up to where it met the green lapels of his jacket. The pressed collar of his shirt was rumpled, silk tie twisted askew where he’d no doubt grabbed at it in frustration. She fought the urge to reach out and fix it for him, fingers twitching at the thought of smooth satin against her palms.</p>

<p>“Well?”</p>

<p>“What is there to explain?” Darklaw crossed her arms, trapping her traitorous hands against her ribs. There was nothing she could tell him, no excuse she could give that would make this lapse of judgment acceptable in his eyes. He had counted on her, and she’d failed him—that was the long and short of it. Why bother explaining something they both already knew? It would be a waste of time.</p>

<p>“We had a plan.” His voice dropped to a low hiss as footsteps rang on the marble tile outside. Their combined breathing seemed loud in the emptiness that followed, eyes locked on the door as they followed the sound down the long corridor. She let out a soft sigh of relief; if anyone were to catch the two of them here, in a supply closet of all places….</p>

<p>He seemed to share her thoughts, knocking aside the lightbulb with an impatient hand as he closed the gap between them. Shadows danced crazily up the concrete walls, the light glinting off the fake attorney’s badge on his left lapel. There was hardly any space left between them, and nowhere for her to go; the wall was flush against her spine, lanky tendrils of dry mop falling across one shoulder. She turned her face towards the wall, determined to ensure that his proximity wouldn’t visibly affect her.</p>

<p>“I <em>know</em> we had a plan.” She could feel the force of his temper, kept in check by sheer willpower. His anger was justified; she was the one who’d assured him that the foreign attorney would be easily convinced. He’d relied on her, and as a result had been humiliated in front of the English Court. Any excuses would only incite him further.</p>

<p>“Then what, pray tell, possessed you to change course without consulting me first? Do you realize what might have happened? It’s—this isn’t Labyrinthia, Eve!” Her heart quickened at the sound of her true name. He was the only one who used it anymore, now that her father was… gone. “You said yourself that there wouldn’t be a single hitch in this plan, and now you’ve gone and made me look like an incompetent fool.”</p>

<p>“You—”</p>

<p>“Me?” His lip curled to reveal the pointed edge of one canine. “What about me? I’ve done my share, and more. There’s nothing to be said about <em>me</em>.” The sharp tone was just enough to rouse her own ire. Between heartbeats, the frustration she felt at Mr. Wright’s actions boiled over.</p>

<p>“I told him to take the plea deal.” She pressed her palm to his chest, both to ground herself and push him away. “Multiple times, in fact. And while you were busy sniffing out the nearest broom closet, I was making sure to hammer it into his thick skull. Furthermore,” she snapped, “you have just as much of a hand in this as I do… as he does. Don’t play innocent.”</p>

<p>“Pardon?”</p>

<p>“When the defense went off script the first time, it was your job to remind him that—”</p>

<p>“—that there was a plea deal already agreed upon? In case you weren’t paying attention, Miss Darklaw, I did remind him of that very thing. Multiple times, in fact,” he crowed, parroting her words with a bitter smile. “Face it: your attorney made a mockery of the judicial system.”</p>

<p>“My attorney wasn’t the one who called a second witness to—”</p>

<p>“I was doing my job.” The cold note in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “We settled on a guilty verdict. That’s what this trial is riding on. Do you realize how hard it is to convince a gallery—a <em>judge</em>— that an innocent girl is guilty?”</p>

<p>“Yes!” She dismissed the complaint with a huff. “We do it all the time, Zack. It’s not that difficult.”</p>

<p>“In a controlled setting, with faked evidence and unreliable eyewitness testimony. Again: this isn’t Labyrinthia. We’re supposed to—”</p>

<p>“We’re supposed to have Espella on the first flight home. Tonight.” She tilted her head, glaring at him over her frames. “Or have you forgotten that little detail?” His heart thundered angrily against her palm.</p>

<p>“If he’d just taken the plea, the trial would be over by now.”</p>

<p>“You are absolutely impossible,” she spat. “I should have asked the court for a low-ranking nobody; at least then I would have gotten a properly mediocre performance. But I should have known that your pride would—”</p>

<p>“My pride?! Of all the—” He laughed angrily. “<em>You </em>have no right to lecture <em>me</em> about pride!”</p>

<p>“Would you keep your voice down?!” She sighed, massaging her forehead with one hand. “Look. I reminded Mr. Wright of his duty to his client when I met him in the lobby. I just need you to stop… indulging him.”</p>

<p>“It’s the prosecution’s job to fight for a guilty verdict.”</p>

<p>“I know what your job is. I’m telling you to do a different one.” The tension rose between them as they glared at one another. He let out a long breath, tongue working in his cheek before he shook his head decisively.  </p>

<p>“No.”</p>

<p>“N-no?” It had been such a long time since she’d received such a clear-cut refusal; no one in Labyrinthia dared deny High Inquisitor Darklaw—especially not <em>him</em>! He was her second in command, the left hand to her right; even when he knew her grandiose plans were bound to fail, he always agreed to see them through to the end. There was no doubt in her mind that he felt a wicked enjoyment every time she was forced to eat crow and admit she was wrong. But this was… this was unprecedented. She was so surprised that she nearly forgot to be angry.</p>

<p>Nearly.</p>

<p>“What do you mean, no?”</p>

<p>“I mean that I’m not going to do it.”  </p>

<p>“Don’t be ridiculous!” She meant to scold, but it sounded dangerously close to pleading. “Zack!”</p>

<p>“No,” he repeated sternly.</p>

<p>“Just a little longer, that’s all. When court reconvenes, I’m positive that Mr. Wright will accept the—”</p>

<p>“Will he?” He leaned down, caging her in further until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Do you truly believe that?” Her petulant frown was answer enough; she was too obstinate to gratify him with the truth. Mr. Wright might have been a veritable stranger to her, but she didn’t need to know him to understand the sort of man he was. A man like him didn’t accept a guilty verdict without a fight. She would have better luck hoping for snow in July.</p>

<p>“We’ve tried it your way,” he continued, voice softening. “Now it’s my turn.”</p>

<p>“No! I—no, we don’t have time to change the plan.” She shook her head quickly, chewing her lip as she thought. “We’ll just have to… Mr. Wright will—”</p>

<p>“Mr. Wright <em>won’t</em>, and we both know it.”</p>

<p>“But—” she stammered. “It’s easier to—I’ve already planned—”</p>

<p>“I wish you’d stop acting like you’re the only one involved in this,” he interrupted, brow furrowing in a fond sort of exasperation. “You’re not alone. I’m here.” He wasn’t wrong; he was always at her side, faithfully upholding the promise he made to her over a decade ago. They were light and dark, sun and moon, as near to each other as the intertwined faces on the Storyteller’s brooch.</p>

<p>“I…” Once again she found herself without a logical argument. “We don’t have time for this!”</p>

<p>“You’re right. We don’t.” He leaned in even further, ducking to avoid the shelf over her shoulder. “So,” he murmured, “how might I persuade you? To let me handle things for now.” His voice was smooth, warm breath tickling the tender skin beneath her ear.  </p>

<p>“What are you—” Another shiver ran through her, this one entirely different from earlier. Her fingers curled against his chest, nails catching the rich fabric of his suit jacket. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that jacket, not since he’d stepped behind the prosecution bench earlier. It was odd to see him in court without his trusty armor; the lack of it only highlighted how well he wore a neatly tailored suit. The only thing better than seeing him with it on was to imagine him taking it off, never breaking eye contact as he loosened his tie….</p>

<p><em>No! </em>She froze, teeth clenched to the point of pain. <em>Not here, not <strong>now</strong>, of all the times…!</em></p>

<p>He pulled back, lips curling into his usual mischievous smirk. It was clear that he was only trying to anger her, taking her mind off the argument and sealing his own victory in the process. Teasing her happened to be one of his favorite hobbies; he knew her well enough to know exactly which buttons to push, and in what order. Proper garrison ideals had been forcibly hammered into his skull for years, yet they somehow hadn’t robbed him of his most infuriating trait.</p>

<p>Part of what she was feeling must have shown in her expression; the smile slipped from his face, quickly being replaced with something more heated. When they were young, he used to joke about being able to read her thoughts: <em>you don’t have to say a word, Eve. Just show me your eyes. </em>For better or worse, he hadn’t lost that talent. One look was all he needed to know what she was thinking, unless she was careful enough to keep her guard up.  </p>

<p>The silence grew to fill the space around their bodies, crackling with something both familiar and unwanted—at least in the present moment. It was a tacit, volatile energy, one that threatened to ignite at the slightest provocation. They were both guilty of keeping it kindled with subtle jabs and petty taunts, so-called witty remarks that better suited adolescents.</p>

<p>Often it was a childish contest to see who could be provoked the easiest, ending only when the sullen loser stomped away to cool off. But other times it was different, quite noticeably so, with their keen observations toed the line between banter and flirting. The simplest of touches—sometimes as chaste as an accidental brushing of gauntlets—was enough to send them rushing off in opposite directions, red-faced and with no clear winner in sight.</p>

<p>She knew without asking that it hadn’t escaped his notice. In their more playful conversations he would sometimes stare at her with a quiet intensity, the moment lasting a beat too long and leaving them both flustered. During those brief, rare instances she feel the need radiating from him, a helpless plea that he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—put into words. It didn’t help that she couldn’t say with any certainty just what it was that he wanted from her.</p>

<p>That being said, she was fairly certain of what she wanted from him… right now, anyway. Never mind that it was the worst of times, in one of the most inopportune places imaginable. It was borderline stupid, it was cliché, it was hopelessly, <em>pathetically </em>romanticized in her head—all the same, she couldn’t help thinking it.</p>

<p>  <em>You should kiss me. </em> </p>

<p>His gaze dropped to her lips and back, an almost imperceptible gesture.. but one she still caught. The thought became a desperate ache behind her ribs, highlighting the anxious flutter of her pulse.</p>

<p>“Zack?” Her voice was hard to recognize, strained and shaky. He gulped, more a nervous movement of his throat than any real sound. “Zack, t-the trial….” Even as she spoke, her hand seemed to move of its own accord. It left the warmth of his chest, rising to gently touch the thin scar at his jaw. He froze completely, holding his breath as her gloved fingertips ghosted across his parted lips.</p>

<p>She didn’t notice him moving closer until he was, his body pressing her against the wall in a way that left her weak. He tilted his head and then paused, unsure. Leaning back slightly, he glanced at her, both gauging her reaction as well as waiting… for what? A refusal? She ought to refuse. First kisses were supposed to be special, and sweet and— and not in the supply closet of a courthouse. But even if it was true… as long as the kiss was from him, then… <em>I won’t stop him</em>.</p>

<p>“Eve…” With a soft sigh, he brushed a stray curl from her cheek. She tipped her head back, melting further against the wall; her heels bit punishingly into the back of her ankles, but she was beyond caring. To her surprise he took the invitation, trembling fingers trailing a line down her neck until they reached the collar of her blouse.</p>

<p>She should have closed her eyes, allowing her lashes to hide all the mixed emotions that swirled in her mind like so many red petals. Instead she looked straight into his, knowing all the while that her glasses offered him a perfect, outlined window directly into her thoughts. It was an unspoken challenge, daring him to read whatever it was he saw there and draw his own conclusions.  </p>

<p>He let out a choked exhale that sounded suspiciously like a curse, bending his head as he tilted her chin up to meet him. The movement jostled her bag, the strap sliding from her shoulder before she could move to stop it. It slipped off her arm, landing with a heavy thud on the concrete floor between their shoes. Startled, he leapt away, the back of his head smacking into the lightbulb.</p>

<p>She sagged against the wall as he swore sharply, rubbing his head. Her heart was in her throat, beating frantically against the ribbon at her collar. The moment was gone, taking her brainless behavior with it. Her entire face burned, both at the situation and at her own actions. She was on the job, for pete’s sake!</p>

<p>And yet she’d nearly—and with—they were so close to—</p>

<p>Humiliation was at war with disappointment, leaving her more than a little annoyed. She could only hope that the light was dim enough to hide her blush.</p>

<p>“—over.” His lips at moved, but the bag’s echo—as well as her pulse—still rang in her ears.</p>

<p>“What?” He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair and making the ends stand even higher.</p>

<p>“I-I said that the recess is almost over.” It was clear that he was blushing just as hard, keeping his gaze carefully averted as she blindly groped for her bag.</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“So… you’ll let me handle it, right?”</p>

<p>“I… y-yes.” Anything, anything he wanted. She needed to leave, and <em>now</em>—she’d have agreed to dancing on the witness stand if it meant he would stop talking. “Do whatever you have to. I don’t care, just get it done.”   </p>

<p>“Eve—”</p>

<p>“Wait a few minutes before following me.” She fumbled with the door handle, her hands shaking hard enough that they rattled the knob. Warm fingers encircled hers before she could react, steadying her long enough to open the door. She waited, hoping that he’d speak, praying he’d stay quiet. He lingered only a moment, squeezing her hand before letting his fingers slide away.</p>

<p>“We’ll talk at the hotel.” While she knew he meant it as a consolation, in the present light it sounded more like a threat.</p>

<p>“Fine.” She paused only to make sure the coast was clear before hurrying into the hall without another word. <em>Handle things… what does that even mean? </em>Shaking her head, she let her practiced mask slide into place once more. It was much better to be Darklaw right now, for Espella’s sake if not her own. Darklaw didn’t frequent broom closets; she <em>certainly</em> didn’t let the thought of kissing her fellow inquisitor turn her into a shaking mess.</p>

<p>The main lobby was filling fast, but she saw a security guard showing Espella back into the courtroom. Thankfully, the girl was still bland and placid. Mr. Wright and his assistant brought up the rear, heads together as they spoke in hushed tones. The gallery swarmed around them, the cityscape odor of smog and sweat clinging to their clothes. <em>Oh god… </em>She blanched. <em>I hope I don’t smell like a custodian. </em></p>

<p>It wasn’t until she was comfortably settled in her reserved seat that she realized she was gripping her bag tightly enough to wrinkle the leather. She forced her hand to let go, bloodless fingers tingling from the exertion as she smoothed it back out on her lap. The black cat charm, reminiscent of Espella’s beloved pet, dangled merrily from the side clasp. It seemed to smile up at her, pointed mouth curved at the corners.</p>

<p>The judge called for order and the gallery quietened, leaving the room clear for the prosecution to call forth the second witness. She let the sound of his voice wash over her, trying to forget how it sounded in her ear, wondering what it feel like against her skin. The cat continued to smile, blissfully unaware of life and all its bewilderments.</p>

<p>She listened to the rest of the trial without hearing a single word.</p>

#plvsaa #plvspw #professor layton vs. phoenix wright ace attorney #professor layton vs ace attorney #barnlaw #Zacharias Barnham #Eve Belduke #Darklaw #AU #Canon Divergence #Bell Tower AU #my writing

[leclercsainzz]

BEGGING for a charles leclerc x reader smau based on “some one like you” please 🙏🏼 where he’s married to someone else after reader and him broke up .. you can make it however you want:)

WISTFUL YEARNING

PARINGS: charles leclerc x ex gf!reader

TYPE: social media au

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 720,038 others

charles_leclerc: dreams do come true, i love you, my love 💘

view 6,736 comments

user: OMG OMG

user: “dreams do come true” 😭

user: he’s officially married, guys

carlossainz55: congratulations, mate 🍾

user: YN LIKED OMG 😭😭

pierregasly: congrats, bro! wishing you the best ❤️

user: congratulations 🥰

user: *liked by yourusername* 😢

↳ user: my heart SHATTERED, OMGGGG 💔

user: i just want to know how yn feels

user: can ya’ll move on from charles and yn?!?

user: CONGRATS, CHARLES!! ❤️

user: yn 😭😭

joris__trouche: ❤️❤️❤️

user: he finally got what he wanted, omg 🥺

user: congratulations 🥳

user: i was doing fine until i saw that yn liked this post

user: im happy for him!!

landonorris: congrats, mate

user: HE’S OFFICIALLY MARRIED YA’LL 😩😩

user: idk why i was waiting to see a comment by yn

sebastianvettel: wishing you a lifetime of love and happiness

↳ charles_leclerc: thank you, sebs! 😊

lance_stroll: congratulations!

user: can’t believe so much time has passed since yn:(

user: i know all the drivers were invited but i NEED pictures

user: guess i won’t be mrs leclerc anytime soon 😩

danielricciardo: wishing you both lots of love ❤️

lewishamilton: congratulations

user: i wonder how yn must be feeling 🥺🥺

user: was hoping him and yn would get their happily ever after

user: i wonder if he calls his wife “mon cœur” or “mon ange”

↳ user: i doubt he calls his wife that considering those belong to yn but who knows

↳ user: maybe “my heart” but not “my angel” or idk

↳ user: ya’ll think she calls him “charlie” ?? the way yn did??

user: guess yn is never getting him back 😭

user: congratulations, charles! sending lots of love 💗

imessage

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, lorenzotl and 610,840 others

yourusername: — la vie est belle <3

see translation: life is beautiful

view 4,810 comments

user: SHE’s HangING WITH KIKA 💗

user: babes, did you get the apartment you always wanted?!?

↳ user: wait— the one her and charles always wanted right?!?

↳ user: with the view, yes! it seems like it in the third post

pierregasly: hey! that’s MY girlfriend

↳ yourusername: OUR* get it right 🙄

francisca.cgomes: tú es belle 😘

see translation: you’re beautiful

user: “life is beautiful” LIES ik deep down you missing charles

user: i miss you and charles 😭😭😭😭

user: i really thought you charles would’ve been endgame 😭

user: charles is married but not to yn 😭😭😭

danielricciardo: oui

see translation: yes

leclerc_pascale: belle comme toujours 😍

see translation: beautiful as always

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️

↳ user: mama leclerc 😭

user: how do you feel about charles’ marriage??

user: crazy to think how charles is married while yn’s not

user: i really thought you and charles would’ve been endgame

user: charles’ got a whole wife, bro 😔😔 and it ain’t you

user: charles got his dream but yn???? 😭😭😭😭

user: she got her apartment with the eiffel tower view

↳ user: but without charles 😢😢

user: times flies fast … it feels like her and charles were still together:((

user: wonder if she congratulated charles

↳ user: she definitely didn’t 🤣 why would she??

user: charles was suppose to be her love forever 😭😭

↳ user: well as they say, “sometimes it last in love, but sometimes it hurts instead”

user: her and charles were supposed to live in france together

user: ya’ll seriously need to move on from those two, he’s a married man ….

charles_leclerc

liked by sebastianvettel, arthur_leclerc and 772,046 others

charles_leclerc: surprise!

view 5,940 comments

user: i just know yn feeling SICK right now

user: he got married, he’s gonna become a dad, now he just needs that ferrari championship (FERRARI GIVE IT TO HIM)

carlossainz55: you’re both going to make amazing parents! congratulations on your new baby!!! ❤️

↳ charles_leclerc: thank you, carlos!

user: he’S GONNA BE A DAD 😭😭😭

user: we’re getting a mini leclerc 🥺

lewishamilton: congratulations 😊

↳ charles_leclerc: thanks, mate!

user: he’s achieving his dreams

↳ user: without yn 😭😭😭

user: ya’ll gotta stop with the whole charles/yn relationship, they BROKE UP! i don’t think his wife appreciates you all bringing yn up every chance you get

user: can’t wait!!!!!

sebastianvettel: congratulations on your new adventure

↳ charles_leclerc: 😊😊

leclerc_pascale: ❤️❤️❤️

user: we’re all happy for you, charles 😌💗

alex_albon: congrats!! 🥳

↳ charles_leclerc: thanks, alex

user: i’d be crawling back into his life, if i were yn

lorenzotl: ❤️

user: he’s getting his mini leclerc 🥺🥺

maxverstappen1: favorite uncle max is gonna spoil her/him

↳ charles_leclerc: favorite uncle?!!?? absolutely not

joris__trouche: at your service 🫡

arthur_leclerc: ❤️❤️

user: he finally accomplished his dreams

user: this could’ve been yn’s life 😩😩

yourusername: congratulations, charlie!

↳ user: MOM, OMG 😭😭

↳ user: ik she’s lowkey crying about this

↳ user: “charlie”

↳ user: i want them back together, idc 😭😭😭😭

pierregasly: congrats ❤️

user: he’s living his dreams

user: yn 💔💔💔💔

user: mom’s comment 😢

user: i’d be feeling sick to my stomach, if i were yn

imessage

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 649,083 others

yourusername: bonjour

see translation: hello

tagged: @yourbrother

view 4,081 comments

user: when she listens to lana del rey >>>

user: LA LA LAND, OMG 😭😭😭 PAIN

pierregasly: yourbrother & toby >>> you

user: charles liked!!! OMG

user: she’s watching la la land!

user: i didn’t realize the 5th slide was @yourbrother

leclerc_pascale: ma belle fille 😘

see translation: my beautiful girl

↳ yourusername: je t’aime ❤️

↳ user: “my beautiful girl” i cant 😭😭😭

↳ user: pascale LOVES yn so much even after all these years

francisca.cgomes: 😍😍😍😍 my wife

lorenzotl: avez-vous oublié monaco? 😔

see translation: did you forget monaco?

↳ yourusername: jasmais ça

see translation: never that

↳ arthur_leclerc: 👍🏼

user: the way charles family still interacts with hers 😭😭

↳ user: i miss them 😔

user: third slide is lowkey for charles

↳ user: girl, MOVE ON! he’s married, get over them

user: ARE WE JUST GONNA IGNORE THAT CHARLES LIKED

user: i miss yncharles 💔💔💔💔

kellypiquet: 😍😍

danielricciardo: bonjour

yourbrother: mon chein est meilleur que toi

see translation: my dog is better than you

↳ yourusername: toby m’aime mieux que toi

see translation: toby likes me better than you

charles_leclerc: toby est tellement grand 🥺 @yourbrother

see translation: toby is so grown

user: missing mom and dad 😭😭

user: i know charles is married but i can’t help myself thinking about him and yn all the times:(

user: he commented

user: she’s the one that got away 😔

↳ user: what should’ve, could’ve, and would’ve been

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 smau #au instagram #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 social media au #formula one x reader #f1 x y/n #formula one x yn #scuderia ferrari #formula 1 x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 social media #f1 instagram edit #formula one #formula 1 fanfic

[jayybugg]

dreams come true

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Mattheo can't resist each other and have some fun in a tattoo shop.

Warning: Tattoo Artist AU!Mattheo, Dirty talk, Takes place AFTER Hogwarts, Smut (18+), No use of Y/N.

Note: I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to write this but personal Tumblr friends know this was a long time coming. Based on feral thoughts from @finalgirllx tattoo Mattheo edits (Please go check them out if you haven't). @cafekitsune for the banners as always! Hope you enjoy!

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his drawing station when the bell of the shop’s door rang. It didn’t take long for him to recognize you. A grin spread across his face.

“Back already, Love?” Mattheo’s sultry voice asked, pulling your attention to him. You tilted your head, a smile curving into your lips. “Missed me, Riddle?” You leaned over his drawing station, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on your face. He knew if his eyes wondered, they would go straight to your chest. As much as he loved to flirt with you and found you insanely gorgeous, you were still a client and he needed to be professional.

“More than you know, Princess.” Mattheo stood up, walking around the table to tower over you. “What are you here for now?”

Mattheo had tattooed you last month, so he was shocked that you were already back for another one. You looked up at Mattheo through your lashes, “I have a new tattoo idea.”

“Well, spill the beans.” He leaned against the table, focusing on you. He crossed his arms across his chest, unintentionally flexing his muscles while showing off his ink-covered arms. You wet your lips, dragging your eyes from his arms to his eyes. “A dragon.” You said.

“A dragon?” Mattheo asked, looking at you curiously. You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Specifically, a Hebridean Black dragon, but more colorful.”

Mattheo smirked, walking back around the table, retaking his seat. He picked up his pencil to start a sketch. “I’m assuming you’re picking the Hebridean for its enormous size. This will be a large tattoo, huh?” He asked, eyes focused on the paper in front of him.

“You know me so well, Riddle.” You laughed, “Yes, this will be a large tattoo. I want it to wrap around my whole thigh, the head starting on my hip and the tail ending around the knee area.”

Mattheo nodded slowly, looking at you. “Those are sensitive areas, Princess. Are you sure?”

He knew you would be fine with the areas. He had already tatted your spine, leg, ankle, sternum, and side boob. He was the one who wouldn’t be okay. Mattheo was using every ounce of restraint to stop himself from simply bending you over one of these tables and taking you there.

“Of course, I’ll be okay.” You raised your eyebrow. “Who do you think I am? Some rookie?”

Mattheo chuckled at the question. “Fine. You got it, Princess. You can hang out in my station while I get it drawn up and printed.”

You smiled at him, walking into the familiar room. All the ink and equipment were neatly placed and clean. You sat on the tattoo bench, leaning back as you waited for Mattheo to join you in the room. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. Mattheo entered the room with the printed-out stencil and a pair of smooth, black rubber gloves.

“I forgot to bring a change of pants.” You said, slightly embarrassed, “This was a kind of impulsive decision.”

Mattheo stared at you before shrugging. “I’m comfortable if you just want to do it in your underwear, Princess.”

You smiled, standing up and peeling your jeans off. Mattheo turned on his heels fast to face the wall. His eyes trained on the ceiling as he took a deep breath. You laid back on the table, looking over at him. “I’m ready, Matty.”

Mattheo nodded, clearing his throat. He slid his gloves on as he watched you shift around on the bench in just your underwear and top. He held back his groan and pulled up his chair. He prayed to Merlin that he would make it out of this session with a piece of his dignity.

The beginning of the session was easy. Mattheo focused on the designs while he listened to you rant about how hard school was. It wasn’t until he got to the inner part of your thigh that it got difficult.

To have precise lines on your tattoo, you had to spread your legs with Mattheo nestled in the middle of them. He gripped your thigh, keeping the skin stretched as he worked. He couldn’t focus on what you were talking about or what he was even tattooing. He thanked Merlin for his motor skills because if he was still a rookie, this would end with a lawsuit.

You couldn’t help but notice Mattheo’s heavy breathing so close to your core. It was making you wetter than you ever expected it to. Of course, you were attracted to Mattheo, and with him so close but so far away from fulfilling your fantasies, it was killing you.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as you couldn’t keep your voice leveled anymore and Mattheo kept his mouth closed and his eyes focused on the tattoo. After a few more hours, Mattheo finally finished your tattoo and looked at you proudly.

“It looks good, Princess. I would have never thought to do this if you hadn’t asked.” Mattheo observed it, “I ran out of wrap, so I need to run over to the store to get some. Just give me like 10 minutes, okay?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course, I’ll be here.”

Mattheo winked at you before leaving the shop, locking the door behind him so no one just walked in and scared you. You let out a breath of relief, your hand traveling to your underwear. You hooked your finger around the cloth, pulling it to the side and letting another finger tease your folds. You were soaked.

“How the fuck am I this wet? He didn’t even do anything.” You mutter to yourself. You glanced around the room, sighing softly before dipping two fingers into yourself.

It was probably a terrible idea to finger yourself in Mattheo’s shop and on his tattoo bench, but your desire was stronger than your common sense at that moment.

“F-fuck…” You moaned, keeping up the pace, “Shit, Mattheo.”

You kept going, wanting to reach your climax before Mattheo got back. You picked up the pace of your fingers, now slamming them into yourself. Your moans were loud, and your thoughts were so clouded that all your awareness was thrown out the window.

With your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, and fingers still buried deep in your pussy, you reached your orgasm. You let out a deep breath of relief as you finished.

“That was a nice show to come back to, Princess.”

You jumped to cover yourself, and widened your eyes, looking at the door where Mattheo leaned against the frame. He had his arms crossed, his muscles flexing and his tattoos moving. Your jaw slacked open as you tried to find any excuse for what he had seen.

“I…. Mattheo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I wasn’t….”

Mattheo sat the wrap down on the table, walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. He placed a hand on your leg, moving them apart slowly. You looked between him and his hand, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He bent down to lie between your fully spread legs, groaning at the wetness that he was met with. “Fuck, you wanted me this bad, Princess?”

He took a finger, rubbing it over your clit, adding a small amount of pressure. You let out a whimper, gripping the sides of the bench. “Mattheo….”

“I’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy for so long. Wanting to hear you moan my name since I’ve heard that beautiful voice of yours.” He looked up at you. “And now you’ve soaked my bench just thinking about me?”

“I didn’t mean to……I just…You were so close that I got turned on.” You whispered, letting out a moan as he dipped his finger into you, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

“I’m not mad, Princess.” He kissed your thigh. “I want to hear it again.”

Mattheo dipped his head down, sucking your clit into his mouth as he added another finger inside of you, picking up the pace. Your hands flew to his curls, tangling your hands into them, tugging slightly. Mattheo groaned softly at that, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Matty, Oh my Gods.” You whimpered out. He slid his fingers out and hooked his hand around your thighs, being careful of your tattoo. Pulling you close, he flicked his tongue up and down your clit, letting it occasionally slip into you. You bucked your hips as you felt another orgasm coming. “Matty, I’m about to, fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Good. Be a good girl for me and cum all over my tongue, Princess.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up to grind out your climax on Mattheo’s face. Mattheo chuckled. Standing up, he sunk his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off his finger.

“Sweet.” Mattheo smirked at you, “Now c’mere.”

He grabbed the wrap off the table, effectively wrapping your tattoo before pulling you off the bench and to the floor so you were on your knees in front of him. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your hands trailed up his legs and over the growing bulge in his pants. “Go ahead, pretty girl.” Mattheo’s voice came out soft and demanding. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, eventually popping open to allow you to tug them down.

Mattheo smirk, moving your hands gently and tugging his boxers and pants down quicker, stepping out of them. He let out a small grunt as he pumped himself slowly, precum already dripping from his tip. He reached his hand out, weaving it into your hair and gripping it from the roots as he pulled your head back. Your mouth fell open, in shock and want, causing Mattheo to smirk down at you. “Look at you, such a needy slut. You want my cock that bad?”

“Yes,” You whined softly, squeezing your legs together, “Please, I want it.”

Mattheo stepped closer to you, causing you to widen your legs a bit. “Don’t go trying to pleasure yourself, Princess. Wait for your turn. Now, open your mouth.” You followed his directions quickly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

Mattheo groaned at the sight of you being so obedient to him. He slapped his cock against your tongue before pushing his hips forward and jutting his cock into the warmth of your mouth. His body shivered at the moan you released from just having him in your mouth. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to face fuck you in my shop? Am I making all those dirty little fantasies come true?”

Mattheo moved his hips at a faster pace, slamming in and out of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as saliva trailed down your chin and chest. Your mind was dazed as your core got hotter and hotter from the rough actions. Mattheo’s moans were enough to keep you riled up. “You look so fucking pretty, Princess. Choking on my dick, eyes filled with tears from pleasuring me. Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your heart leaped at the praises. To make Mattheo feel good and use you in whichever way he wanted is what you desired this entire time. Your endless wet dreams and daydream fantasies were a reality. You felt Mattheo’s thrusts get sloppier and more reckless as he let out a string of curses. “I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum in this slutty fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulled your head closer to him as he released deep down your throat, ensuring that you didn’t waste a drop. He groaned softly, pulling out of your mouth to let you relax. He leaned over, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He gently wiped your tears and pulled you in to meet his lips. The kiss was passionate and feverish as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You moaned into it as you stood up, not breaking the kiss.

Mattheo kept one hand on your jaw as he wrapped his arm around your body to roughly palm your ass. He walked you backwards to the tattoo bench, causing you to instinctively jump up on it. Mattheo pulled only an inch away from your lips, mumbling softly to you, “You better stop me now, Princess. If this is something you don’t want….”

“I want it. I want it so bad, Matty. It’s all I’ve thought about since I’ve met you.” You reassure him, your hand reaching down to jerk him off slowly. “I want you. I need you, Mattheo.”

“Fuck, Princess.” Mattheo groaned, kissing you deeply before pushing you on your back and positioning you on the edge of the bench. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist. Grabbing the shaft of his dick, he teased your folds before pushing his tip into you.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as Mattheo teased you with just his tip. “Matty…. please….”

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg for me.” Mattheo said, sinking into you. He groaned at the warmth and tightness. “So, fucking warm, Princess. Tell me when to go, baby.”

“G-go…. You can go.” You moaned, gripping the side of the bench. Mattheo didn’t waste time to thrust. His slow thrusts didn’t last long because, within seconds, he was pounding into you. Your moans drowned the creaks of the tattoo bench out. “Fuck, Mattheo, feels s’good.” You babbled; your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, Princess. Such a good fucking slut, letting me rail you on my tattoo bench.” Mattheo groaned, his hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boobs. “My pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

The touching, the thrusting, and the dirty talk were making your mind fuzzy. Pleasure taking over your body was making it impossible for your mind to string together any type of words. “I asked you a question, Princess, answer me,” Mattheo grunted, taking his hand from under your shirt and moving it to wrap around your throat while leaning forward to plunge deeper into you. You mewled at the feeling, your hand gripping his sides and clawing up his back.

“Y-yes! I’m…. I’m your p-pretty little slut.” You finally pushed out, “Fuck, Mattheo.”

Mattheo left wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. To hear your pretty voice moan my name, to hear you beg for me to fuck you. You’re a fucking dream come true.”

Mattheo moved his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to fuck you. You whimpered at the overstimulation. “I want you to cum all over my dick, Princess. Make a mess all over me and my tattoo bench.”

You moaned, feeling the growing knot in your stomach as you got closer to your climax. One more thrust from Mattheo had you whining and your legs shaking. Tears pricked your eyes once more as Mattheo kept thrusting and rubbing your clit. “I can’t- I can’t take no more, Matty.” You whined, looking up at him.

“Yes, you can. You can take more until I cum, baby girl. I’m almost there, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Mattheo said, “Gonna let me breed you, Princess? Fill you up with my seed?”

“Yes, please, cum in me. I want it, I want it so bad.” You babbled.

“Good fucking girl,” Mattheo mumbled, groaning as his thrusts became more erratic. He slammed into you once more, burying himself deep into you as he came in you. He pulled out slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you up into his chest. “That was amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you.” You felt a blush rush to your face. “Guess I should go pay now, huh?”

Mattheo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think you’re paying after all that?”

“It’s only right that I pay you for your work.” You said, your eyes meeting his.

“Trust me, Princess, you’ve paid me with something way more valuable than money.” Mattheo smirked. “And now that’s all I want. I’ll tattoo anything on you for it.”

You blushed, laughing at him. Your heart raced at all the future possibilities with Mattheo.

Today was truly a dream come true.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #fem reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo smut #slytherin #theodore nott #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #smut #mattheo riddle smut #harry potter

[proxycrit]

Elesa climbs to celestial tower to ring the bell. Emmet, stuck in between the distortion world, finds his way home.

Part 1/ Part 2

The conductor falls, down, down, down.

“What’s my name?” He calls to the abyss in terror (what is terror?)

He’s a singular being, right? (That’s not right. He’s one of a pair.)

The abyss gazes back. It has no answers to give, in its multitude.

Not to someone that’s so, so alone.

———

Somewhere else, one Elesa of Nimbasa rings the Celestial Tower’s Bell, over and over. Her companion, Chandelure, keeps watch.

Nothing happens.

Elesa’s stomach sinks. The reverberations of Celestial Tower’s brass bell mocks her in its echo. The vibrations of it’s distortion only makes the tears she tries to hold at bay worse.

In the blur of her failure, she sees chandelure’s flames suddenly die. Part of her panics.

The rest of her is apathetic and numb.

What’s the point? It didn’t work. Elesa closes her eyes. Tries to swallow, and fails. She’s so tired. She’s so, so tired. The deal with Azelf, the media storm she’s weathered, the constraints of her job, the almost loss of chandelure-

Emmet has been gone for three months. Ingo has been gone even longer.

They have gone where she can’t follow.

Elesa, the ghost whispers in her head. Elesa shakes her head in denial. She doesn’t want to plan right now. She wants to curl into herself, and disappear, just for a bit.

Elesa!

“I can’t do this,” she croaks. The sob in the back of her throat bubbles outwards. She wants Zebrstika. She wants Skyla. She wants her friends.

The paliphet Azelf forced her forward. It permeates her thoughts, drowning out logical thought.

(Too much willpower, and it will become an obsession, Azelf had warned her once in Ingo’s voice. And then, in Emmet’s voice: And when you fail, it willll break you. And finally, in her own voice: you will not have a choice but to move forward, with this curse.

I accept, elesa and told it back in the lake.)

I’m so tired, Elesa thinks now, two months later.

But she keeps moving forward. The bell rings again as Elesa strikes it, with all the hurt and rage and longing forced by her own hand into her soul-

-And that’s when chandelure screams, and there is a terrible rolling crack, and Elesa feels the sudden lurch in her gut as she looks up, her apathy torn into shreds as-

The sky tears open in a fractal wave.

Elesa gapes.

She can not comprehend the sudden black webbing across the sky. In the distance, sirens suddenly start wailing as people stop to perceive the impossible.

But Elesa does not care, because in that moment, the wrench in her gut is so great she almost staggers off the platform. Chandelure is by her side in an instant, her glass body a warm comfort to the sudden chill, because-

Something white is falling.

Elesa’s doesn’t know what she yells. But the tug in her chest feels like the beat of a drum, and she is helpless to the melody that calls for action.

Azelf’s blessed takes a leaping step forward, off the building. Chandelure lets out a panicked chime and the warmth of psychic cradles Elesa as she reaches out, arms outstretched, falling and flying and-

And Emmet, sparking with white electricity, reaches back.

NOTES:

AU’s Salvaging the Ship of Theseus! Everybody has a Bad Time. (Emmet and Eelektross go to Hisui and learn about the joys of the distortion world. Elesa hunts legends and makes bad deals. Ingo babysits some sneaslets.)

Backstory and explanation:

Prior this scene, Emmet was travelling Hisui with Eelektross before he falls through a mirror and becomes lost in the distortion world for a month. Elesa and Chandelure, meanwhile, refuse to give up on their remaining friend. (Ingo’s fine! He’s in Hisui right now trying to get fired so he can go searching for his memories. Eelektross is… less fine. We will Worry about That Later.)

Disclaimers: Everything’s a work in progress and subject to change!

Part 2!

#submas #submas au #salvaging the ship of theseus #(gives you a drabble) #this fucking scene…. living in my head… HARASSING ME UNTIL I WRITE AND DRAW IT. #BEGONE FOUL DEMONS #emmet #elesa #chandelure #pokemon #pokemon au #hope this haunts you as much as it haunts me #critdraws #critterbitter screams into the void #submas angst #submas fanfiction #fanfic #Spotify

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Rollo Flamme - Student Council President Robes Vignette

"...How carefree."

[Noble Bell College – Bell Tower Interior]

Rollo: Sigh… There is a slight chill. In addition, the sun is rising later as each day passes.

Rollo: Heh… This is a wonderful season. The time I must spend exchanging idle prattle with my idiotic classmates grows shorter.

Rollo: Now, before everyone awakens, I will do what I can to fulfill my duties.

Rollo: …And it would be a nuisance if I were to be spotted by those irritating bunch, as well.

[Noble Bell College – Bell Tower Upstairs]

[gargoyles clanking around]

Rollo: AUGH, SILENCE! You blasted gargoyles.

Rollo: All your merry romping is completely undignified. Can you not settle down for even a single moment?

[gargoyles happily clanking around]

Rollo: Ugh, yes, I will be sure to tend to you all next weekend. After all, I cannot tolerate abandoning a task that I have taken on.

Rollo: If you understand, then leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to.

[gargoyles clank away]

Rollo: …Finally, they've left. Good grief, they are indeed a troublesome group.

Rollo: It is repulsive enough that they operate on magic, but they are much worse in conjunction with all that atrocious noise...

Rollo: If their whole purpose of existence were not to protect the bell tower, I would have long ignored those hunks of stone.

Rollo: …Would you not agree, dear Bell of Salvation?

Rollo: Heheh. You are as beautiful as ever today.

Rollo: How wonderful it would be if everyone were just like you.

Rollo: You ring when you should ring and are silent when you should be silent. Nothing could be more appropriate and certain.

Rollo: …Ah. The sun will rise soon.

Rollo: I should finish cleaning before the bell ringers arrive.

Rollo: Please bestow upon us your beautiful resounding tones again today, dear Bell of Salvation.

[Noble Bell College – Courtyard]

Rollo: It's finally time for lunch.

Rollo: This should be a good distance away so I would not have to suffer the prattling of those unpleasant mages. I shall rest here…

???: Oh, President, here you are!

Rollo: Hm?

Vice President: I was searching for you, Rollo-kaichō. Why are you eating your lunch all the way out here?

Rollo: Oh, it's you…

Vice President: I see you're having bread for lunch. I never see you in the cafeteria, so I had no idea.

Rollo: That's right.

Rollo: 2 croissants and 16 singular grapes, as well as one cup of café au lait.

Rollo: That's all. That is my lunch every single day, 365 days a year.

Vice President: Eh, every day? YOU HAVE THE SAME THING FOR LUNCH EVERY DAY!?

Rollo: With a strict routine, I am able to forgo any unnecessary desires. It is rather refreshing. I wholeheartedly recommend you try it as well.

Vice President: I-I don't think I could do it. I'd probably get tired of the same stuff quickly.

Rollo: …How unfortunate that you are not a kindred spirit. More importantly, you had some business of me?

Vice President: Ah, right. Your professor was searching for you just a moment ago.

Vice President: It sounds like they wanted your permission to publish in a newspaper the essay you wrote on your impressions of that one book.

Rollo: A newspaper? …You wouldn't happen to be referring to the "Shaftlands News," that I read for my morning paper, would you?

Vice President: That's right. It's absolutely amazing that you'll be featured in such a big newspaper! That's Rollo-kaichō for you!

Vice President: I also heard that you were the only one who received a perfect score on the Potionology test in today's class.

Rollo: Hmph. It's nothing of import.

Vice President: No need to be so humble! Why, just the other day, you even brought to bloom a water blossom that is said to be very difficult to cultivate. The professors were very impressed.

Vice President: I truly hold you in high regard. There is no other mage at this school that has as much exceptional expertise as you!

Rollo: Is that so? …How ironic.

Vice President: Is something the matter?

Rollo: Nothing of concern. Rather, thank you for your message. Sorry to have caused you trouble.

Vice President: Not at all! But since I'm here, could I take lunch with you?

Rollo: …Well, I am just about done eating. I will be heading right to the professor's office now.

Rollo: Forgive me, but I must head out. We can partake in lunch together some other time.

Vice President: Alright. Then, we'll do it some other time!

[Noble Bell College – Lecture Hall]

Rollo: …How carefree. Why would he speak to me so familiarly, when he cannot even understand my thoughts…?

Rollo: Ah, but there is no time to dwell on that. I must head towards the staff room.

[City of Flowers]

[enters store]

Rollo: Hello.

Rollo: …Yes, that's correct. I would like to order the usual letterhead and envelope. Yes, one of the white ones.

Rollo: …Heh, I agree. Even if it may be considered an anachronism, I believe letters are wonderful tools.

Rollo: It may not be as convenient as sending an e-mail or making a phone call, but with more care and thought placed into each word, one can avoid any careless language.

Rollo: Hm? There is a cheaper stationary set similar to this one, from a different maker? …No, I am perfectly content with my usual fare.

Rollo: I could not bring myself to change the physical appearance of the letter after writing them for so long. I prefer to keep my things consistent and orderly, after all.

Rollo: …Yes, indeed. Thank you for everything, as always. Goodbye.

[leaves store]

Rollo: …A superb shopkeeper. As one would expect from a resident of the city that the Righteous Judge loved so.

Rollo: As a student of Noble Bell College, I must strive to be just as noble.

Rollo: …This city is a pleasant place to reside. The people are amiable, and the scenery is fantastic.

Rollo: However, all these beautiful flowers were originally cultivated with magic…

Rollo: Flowers… Magic…

Rollo: Mheh… Hehehe… Hehehehe…

Goat: Baa, baa.

Rollo: Hm, a goat, is it? What do you hope to gain from nestling up against me?

Rollo: Perhaps you are hungry. Unfortunately, I don't have anything that you could eat.

Rollo: If you are hoping for me to feed you, you would be better off finding someone else…

Goat: Baaa～

Rollo: What? …Are you attempting to snatch my stationary!?

Rollo: How vile… No, you cannot have it. I am very partial to this specific stationary.

Rollo: Moreover, eating paper will cause you digestive issues. I shan't think any less of you. You should give u… Hey, let go this instance!

Goat: Baaa～～

Rollo: You wretched goat! If you do not release my papers, I will have to just…!

Rollo: Ah. No, there are too many people who may see…

Rollo: If you weren't a creature cherished by this city, I wouldn't hesitate to send you flying.

Rollo: Consider this a narrow escape.

Goat: BAAA!

Rollo: Don't you dare gnaw on my robe! I may find the City of Flowers to be spectacular in and of itself, however I cannot approve of these unsanitary conditions.

[Noble Bell College – Student Board Room]

Rollo: "In conclusion, I am doing as well as ever. My best wishes to you both, as well." …

Rollo: …Perhaps that is a tad too formal.

Rollo: No matter. It is enough for my parents to hear that I am doing well here.

Rollo: They have always been worrisome…

Rollo: Much too worrisome… Ever since…

Rollo: …

Rollo: The fire…

Rollo: …

Rollo: …Well. I suppose I could provide additional updates in the letter.

Rollo: I'm certain I will be unable to fall asleep sufficiently tonight, at any rate. I'll continue revising it as much as possible.

Rollo: I have nothing but time, after all…

Requested by @raven-at-the-writing-desk.

#twisted wonderland #twst #rollo flamme #twst rollo #twst translation #twst glorious masquerade

[inkdrinkerworld]

Wait I think you already got a similar request to the one I just sent in.. so maybe remus with reader who got made fun of?

“You’re so weird! Who even does that?” The words are practically yelled at you as you mock an audio that’s been stuck in your ear all day.

You hadn’t actually realized you’d said it out loud, but apparently the people sitting near you in the cafe had heard.

“I do,” you mumble meekly, feeling pressure building behind your eyes at the oncoming tears

“Well it’s very annoying. Some of us came here to socialise, not be bothered with some freak mocking people.”

“I’m not a freak,” you defend yourself staunchly, looking past the table to the door when you hear the bell ring. It’s Remus, he’s only a couple minutes late- two to be exact, most likely because he was looking for a parking spot.

But you know if he sees you like this, shoulders pulled up under your ears, eyes wide and wild and a little teary and your voice all sorts of stressed and tense that he’ll make this a thing.

“Hi dove,” he drops a kiss to your forehead as he pulls out the chair opposite you. “Those people giving you a hard time?”

You hadn’t even realised he’d assessed the entire situation. Remus is like this, hyper vigilant when he’s with you, and ready to defend and protect you to whatever end.

“No?” It comes out more like a question. You don’t want any more attention from them than you’ve already gathered.

“Telling me the truth?” You sigh and Remus leans onto the table, elbow and palm holding his head up as he looks at you.

It would take you till the time you’re leaving to realise what he’d done- blocked them from your view.

“My echolalia has been acting up a bit more and I’ve had audios in my head all day and they heard me saying some and started calling me ‘weird’ and a ‘freak’. Which I know isn’t true.”

“They’re dickheads. And mean. I’m sorry people are idiotic and judgy even though they don’t know you.”

You nod, reaching for your drink on the table. “Would you be mad if I asked to leave after you ordered?”

Remus tuts, “Not at all, angel. I’ll get you an extra pain au chocolat and we can go to the park or on the coast okay?”

You smile gratefully, beaming even more when Remus passes his hands through your hair and raises your chin a little.

“Thanks Remmy,” he shakes his head, standing so he’s towering over you a little.

“You’re welcome but that’s not necessary. I love you,” he kisses you before you can answer back and then goes place his order.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n

[callmelola111]

my summer of you ♡ part one

✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2   - - - -   inspo track ⭑ till there was you

synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, sexual themes but no smut (yet), mentions of religion, tense family relations, perv!ellie makes an appearance, mostly cute fluff moments with a tad bit of angst

a/n: i’ve literally wrote and rewrote so many different fic ideas, it actually was driving me insane. but finally here’s something i’m somewhat satisfied with. this will be a 2 part series so no crazy long wait, and ofc there will be smut. lollipop bit was definitely inspired by the movie hot summer nights except gay and no timothee chalamet jump scare. love you all dearly ♡~ lola

Your 2 vintage suitcases, bursting at the seams, fell to the sidewalk with a thud as you stood in front of your new home for the summer. It was an older house with light blue paneling on the sides, an expansive green lawn, and a wrap-around porch, all surrounded by a classic white picket fence.

Bolting out the front door was the most eager old woman you’d ever seen. Your sweet, sweet grandma. She wrapped you in the biggest embrace and the smell of old Chanel perfume and Jergens lotion overwhelmed your senses. The old woman continued crying out your name pestering you with 1,000 kisses. You erupted in a giggle, expressing the same sentiments of love.

The reason for your stay was less heartwarming. After you had wrapped up your first year at university, your overbearing and uber religious parents caught wind of some of the stuff you were up to while there. In their words, you were “impulsive”, “wreckless”, and “just plain stupid”. But in all actuality, you had just smoked some weed, got wasted, and hooked up with some girls.

Nothing too crazy considering it was your first year of freedom, but of course they flipped and decided banishing you to your grandparents for the summer would be best. And although you were less than ecstatic about them being angry with you, the resulting consequence left you anticipating the perfect summer. I mean come on… a gorgeous old house, right by the beach, home cooked meals, and no one to bother you. How could you not get excited? 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

Soon, you find yourself strolling along hot sidewalks of the small beach town, wandering into every little place that piques your interest. The first was an antique mall. You ventured through the heaps of knick knacks, furniture, and clothes, finally landing on the sweetest tea cup. It was delicate ivory with a thinly curved handle. Painted on the front; a pair of kittens adorned in pink ribbon. You then stumbled into a 50’s themed sweets shop where you purchased a single cherry flavored lollipop which landed in your mouth as soon as you walked out the door. And finally, you came across a quaint bookshop that was practically begging for you to come inside. 

Pushing the old wooden door open you entered, followed by a small melodic bell announcing the new presence. This caught a young individual's attention. Revealing her collection of freckles and short auburn hair, the girl looked up from behind the mahogany counter to greet you. The employee's smile was adorably toothy and the evening sun leaking through the windows made her practically glow. Your eyes remained locked on the girl's face for a little longer than you’d like but it was worth every second. 

Candy in hand, you toured the towering shelves of tattered books and baskets of old magazines, not really knowing what you were looking for. And still considerably distracted by the dreamy woman manning the front desk. That is until a loud creak of the floorboards stole you from your reverie and left you face to face with the culprit of these thoughts.

“Hi- uh, did you need help finding anything today?” she questioned, giving you a slow look up and down.

“Hmm I’m not sure yet,” you took a long pause to regain a little sense of decorum, “Got any recommendations for me Ellie?” Her eyes went wide in confusion before you gestured to the silver plate pinned to her shirt, pointing out the obvious. “Your nametag hun.”

“Oh, right” she looked down sheepishly at the pet name, “Ummm let me think…” Her voice trailed off again and you popped the sticky, red lollipop back in your mouth to fidget with as she took a beat to think. After compiling a few books in her mind Ellie opened her mouth to speak but god was it hard. Your intent sucking had her in a trance.

“I think you-you’d probably- like…” Ellie wanted to keep talking, she really did, but your plump lips engulfing the red little ball was extremely distracting. She watched as your spit pooled at the upturned corners of your mouth and coated the hard candy. Every thought she had left her except what her lips would look like wrapped around something else. You took note as her pupils slowly dilated at the simple action and decided to have some fun with the awkward girl who you’d obviously left in a trance.

“Did you want a taste?” Ellie took some hard blinks in disbelief and some reproach, not realizing how conspicuous her stares must have been.

“Uh- like of your…” She pointed and you hummed in confirmation, holding the thin white stick at its base, hovering the candy just inches from her mouth. 

“Come onnn, I don’t bite… not unless you want me to.” Ellie’s quick and hot breaths of anticipation tickled the little hairs on your knuckles and you knew exactly what you were doing to her. Eventually she dove into your sweet offer. First with a flat tongue, then her whole mouth closing in on it. The crimson disappeared into her cavity and you twisted at the stick connected, sending an odd sensation across Ellie’s tongue. You quickly snatched it back out and plumpted it back in between your own red stained lips, leaving the girl a flustered mess.

“So what about that book?” you inquired, voice laced with a preformative innocence. 

She shook her head to focus, “Uh- right, how about The Bell Jar? Sylvia Plath?”

“That’s actually perfect. It’s been on my list for months now. Which shelf?”

“If you want… I uh, actually have a copy that you can borrow for free.”

“Actually yeah, I’d love that. Thank you.” You gave Ellie a warm smile that sent millions of butterflies through the pits of her stomach, and honestly yours too. She then disappeared to the back with a flash of her green eyes before returning holding a small book bursting with colored tabs.

“Here- I like to annotate,” she chuckled bashfully, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Even better.” Ellie blushed at every word you spoke, sending a nervous hand back to scratch at her neck. “Well, thank you for this. I do have to get home but um- I promise to return it as soon as I’m done.” You shook your clasped hands at her like a praise and departed leaving nothing but a trace of your luscious perfume.

Ellie remained awestruck, replaying that whole scenario back again and saving it for later. Selfishly she wished for you to finish the book in just one night. She couldn't help but miss your pretty face already. And after being the only thing on her mind for the rest of the night, she wasn’t sure how long she could wait to see you again. 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

That evening after Ellie’s shift she retreated to her bedroom with plans to remove you from her thoughts. Controller in hand, she maneuvered through some first person shooter game but lost every round due to her lack of focus. This was frustrating and she went to light some incense hoping to clear her head with a different approach. The brown, bergamot scented stick caught fire before cherrying at the end leaving a trail of smoke behind. Ellie followed it with her eye’s, gaze passing by her window and quickly retreating back as she spotted something out of the ordinary.

The neighbor's familiar window positioned right across from her own was usually shrouded in curtains, hiding the empty bedroom. But today she could see right in, and even better, there was someone just behind the glass. She inched in closer to get a better look and watched as the girl lay on her bed, ass up, feet kicking in the air. Ellie assumed she was talking on the phone from observing her bouts of giggles, but it was hard to tell. Even harder to decipher was who this mystery woman was. Every little mannerism felt oddly familiar and it was driving Ellie crazy. Could you just get off the phone already and turn around?

Yes, you. Who eventually wrapped up the call with your best friend where you had spent 30 minutes gushing about the 5 minute interaction you had with Elllie. “I just have to have her!” you raved through the telephone line, “in fact, I neeeddd her!!” 

Night had completely fallen at this point and as so you rolled out of your lying position and peeled off your shirt to change into pjs. You did it right in front of the window too, unknowingly giving Ellie a show. 

Next door, the girl's jaw was slack and bottom lip red from her harsh bite. Ellie stared lustfully at your soft seeming skin and gorgeous curves. After getting a better glimpse of your face she knew exactly who you were. And once your top started coming off there was no chance she was looking away now. That is… until she got caught.

As soon as you saw a flash of freckles across the way you dashed to the window almost getting a rug burn from the maneuver. With tits out, (well in a sheer lace bra, so practically out) you slide open the white trimmed aperture and give Ellie the most eager wave, shouting her name along with it. The girl could barely pull herself together as she hesitantly opened up her own window. Was Ellie about to get exiled for being a perv or were you feeling forgiving tonight?

“Ellie?! What the fuck?? Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon!!” You shouted with excitement like a child on Christmas.

“Hi-” she halted her greeting, “wait, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, it’s ____”

“S’pretty name… I’m glad to see you again.” 

“Oh I bet you are. Saw you watching me change Els.” Really you didn’t mind, but something about teasing her got you off.

“Fuck- no, no. I- I wasn’t trying to, just was getting a better look to see if it was actually you. Please don’t be mad, I really am sorry!” You had left her a stuttering mess.

“No need to say sorry,” with a bat of your eyelashes you eased her worries, “you liked what you saw… right?” 

The girl squirmed, “Uhh…”

“It’s okay, you can say yes Ellie.” And she quickly did, making the cockiest smirk grow on your face. But, you weren’t an easy girl and you planned to tantalize Ellie with subtle passes until the both of you could hardly resist. So you quickly retreated, wishing Ellie a good night before sealing the window and swiping the curtains shut. 

The girl was left a hot mess after it all but trust and believe she had a good night. One with her hands between her thighs and your newly learned name falling from her lips.

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

The next morning you catch the emerald-eyed girl outside mowing her lawn and take this as the perfect opportunity to play some more mind games.

Slipping into the skimpiest bikini you could find, you scampered into the front yard “to tan”. The green lawn tickled the bottoms of your bare feet before you laid out a red and white striped towel to lounge on. Stomach down, facing towards Ellie, the sun beamed on the expanse of your back. Heart shaped sunglasses hugged your face and shielded your eyes as you admired the pretty girl.

She was dressed in some long cut-off jorts and a black wifebeater tank. A newly lit cigarette hung from her mouth carelessly. You loved the way her pec would flex with each push and pull of the mower. Lines of sweat racing down her arms and neck, illuminating every small vein. And god, when she tilted her head up to exhale a puff of smoke, it drove you wild. 

Your presence had not gone unnoticed though and neither had your cherry printed swim bottoms that were riding up your cheeks. Ellie continued mowing the lawn but was essentially butchering it, too busy staring at you out of her peripherals. She continued passing over the same barren spots of grass over and over, trying to get a better look of the angel laying just on the other side of the fence.

She’d pause mid push every time you’d reposition yourself just so she could see the little recoil of fat that was your plush thighs and heart shaped ass. Her cigarette had yet to leave her mouth after the first few exhales and your prompt arrival. A long build up of ash was begging to slip off the end and at this point she was just mowing little nubs. The yard was a patchy mess and so was she. This mess escalated as soon as she saw you marching to the edge of the fence straight towards her.

Approaching Ellie you planted your elbows on two white posts that stopped at your torso. You shouted out to the sweaty girl, waving her in your direction and she immediately scurried over like an obedient puppy.

“Whatcha smoking?” you questioned, causing Ellie to remember the all-ash cigarette, now between her fingers, being rid of its debris.

“Shit, I’m sorry- do you not like the smoke? I can stop, seriously.” She put out the remaining butt frantically in attempts at atonement.

“Lighten up Els, I don’t care if you smoke. I was just gonna ask to bum one off of you, but I only smoke Marlboros. That menthol shit gives me a headache.” She softened in relief, already pulling out a fresh one just for you.

“That’s crazy, I’m the same exact way. Here, it’s all yours” Ellie attempts to put the cigarette in your hand but you part your lips instead, requesting a different placement. She happily fulfills your request and follows with a silver, square shaped lighter. The flame catches at the end as you take a big inhale, blowing it to the side.

“Thanks, you have no idea how much I needed that. I’ve been cold turkey over here at Grams. Couldn’t even sneak a smoke from her either, she swears by Newports. Truly disgusting if you ask me.” You rolled your eyes, rambling on about your stay and Ellie just listened. She tried piecing together your story from the little tidbits you mentioned but still struggled to understand how you ended up here.

“So you’re just staying with your grandparents for the summer?”

“Yeah pretty much.” you answered nonchalantly.

“How come though? I’ve never seen you here until now. Trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.” she blushed.

“Oh yeah? You think I’m pretty?” you taunted, completely ignoring the question at hand. You weren’t sure how ready you were to spill those beans yet. Ellie gave off such an awkward loser vibe that left you questioning how much of you the girl could really handle. I mean, it seemed like you were already too much for your own parents and beginning to piss off the elders too. And speak of the devil, they arrived home just in time to steal you from Ellie’s company. 

“Babygirl, what are you doing bothering the neighbors?” your grandma called out, making you turn all hot and embarrassed in front of Ellie. Up until now you had managed to keep up the perfect cool girl vibe. The thought that Ellie might not be enjoying this as much as you perceived had never even crossed your mind. But now that it had, your confidence was knocked down a notch. 

“Grams-” You turned to excuse her politely but were cut off before you even got the chance.

“Is that a cigarette young lady?” 

“Umm.. yes…” you hesitated before swiftly putting it out on one of the wooden posts.

“Now where did you get a thing like that?” she prodded, arms crossed. Your eyes glanced over to Ellie but you decided to lie, knowing how your grandparents would react. You’d rather get into trouble than risk losing access to your new favorite girl.

“I swear it was just rolling around in one of the dresser drawers upstairs. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I did and I’m really really sorry. Please can we not mention this?” 

The old woman took a beat to consider your request, “Fine. But hand it over, I need a smoke, the ladies over at bingo this morning were driving me absolutely crazy.” You passed over the cigarette and thanked her and the heavens for sparing you. If your parents found out about any more wrong doings, you knew you’d be done for good, and deep down you believed that Grams had recognized the same threat.

Just over the fence, Ellie had witnessed the whole thing and was left even more intrigued. All this over a cigarette? Mention what to who? But just as she was exiled out of the conversation, Ellie was quickly brought back in.

“So hun, you seem pretty handy if I’m not mistaken.”

“Uh, yes ma’am I guess I am.” Ellie fidgeted, not sure where this conversation was going. Hoping not to get scorned by the wrath you had brought on from the whole cigarette debacle. 

“Well, we’ve got a couple of loose fence posts around the perimeter. I’ve been pleading with my husband to get it done but the old fart can hardly handle walking the block, let alone hard manual labor. You think you could help us out? I’ll give ya 50 bucks for it.” Ellie looked at your grandma, then you, and back to Grams again. 

“Sure, but I don’t need your money. I’ll happily do it free of charge.”

“Well mighty me, thank you very much!” your grandma elated, nudging at you to give thanks as well. You smiled at the girl and then mouthed a little sorry, feeling bad for wrapping her up in all of this. She waved you off, not thinking twice about her choice to help out. Anything to get closer to you, right?

 ✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

That evening you stood in the kitchen, occasionally grabbing out a bowl or passing over an ingredient as your grandma fixed dinner. You sipped from a tall, clear glass of lemonade and looked through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellie in action. 

Noticing your staring, Grams spoke up, “Why don’t you go bring the girl some lemonade to cool off, yeah? In fact, go on ahead and invite her to dinner since she refuses to be paid. Got to say thank you somehow.” Your heart skipped a beat imagining the beautiful girl sat at the dining table.

It was almost scary, every interaction you’d had so far was just casual flirts in passing. This would be the real deal and on top of it, your grandparents would be right there with you. Very, very scary. But there was no arguing this one, so out you went with an endearing proposal and a freshly poured glass of lemonade, all for Ellie.

“Here, I got this for you. It’s homemade.” You ushered the cup forwards to sweaty Ellie and she gratefully accepted with a thank you. You then awkwardly popped the question.

“Sooo… my grandparents want me to invite you over for dinner. As a thank you.” Ellie looked up from her work again trying to read your tone.

“Do you want me over for dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I do. It’s just, you know how it is with family.” You kicked at some dirt that was loosened by the yard work, voiding Ellie’s gaze. It’s not like you didn’t want to see her but how could you trust your grandparents to keep up the mystery. Flirting felt so easy when all the vulnerable parts of yourself had yet to surface.

“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to. I’d hate to cause any problems.” You quickly backpedaled, afraid she might take your words the wrong way. 

“No, no, not at all. Please. Come. I want you there.”

“Okay, then I will be. Let me finish up out here, take a quick shower, and I’ll be over.” 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

Ellie had taken 30 minutes to come back, making it just in time. 20 of those minutes were spent just rummaging through clothes and messing with her hair, too nervous to think about punctuality. She wanted to look good for you, and even more she wanted to impress your family. 

At Ellie’s arrival you opened the door dressed in the shortest little sundress. The pale yellow complimented your skin just perfectly and Ellie wanted to tell you so bad but nerves got the best of her. All she could do was smile and turn 5 different shades of red, matching the rust colored Dickie’s and loose button up shirt that adorned her figure.

“Well, well, well… don’t you clean up nice?” You poked at Ellie’s right arm and she humored you with a shy laugh before putting her head down to shield from embarrassment. Ellie had always been somewhat of a loser but never had she ever met a girl that could leave her this much of a mess with just a few words. 

You then led her into the dining room, both of you taking a seat across from Gram and Gramps at the other end of the table. 

“We’re so happy we could have you over for supper Ellie. I know we don’t mingle much but your father and you have always been such good neighbors.” Your grandpa gushed as Grams nodded along but there was a slight lull before Ellie actually responded. Maybe the mention of her dad? You weren’t sure.

“Well, thank you for having me. It’s always nice to have some company around here.” There was something regretful in her eyes as she said it but the conversation quickly progressed past the moment, leaving you curious for the rest of the night. 

“So how’s school been going for you?” the pair asked.

“It’s been really good. Going into my second year actually.” Ellie answered, putting it simply as she knew this was all formalities and small talk. Even you were beginning to get a little bored with the dry conversation. So you decided to spice things up for the both of you, sliding off your strappy sandals to see how far you could take a game of footsies. 

“Oh wow! ____ is too! What’s your major?” Gramps continued. Your bare foot slid over to Ellie’s beat up sneakers waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. 

“I’m an en-” Her voice cut out as you creeped up the edge of her pants, rubbing on her exposed ankle. She coughed trying to recover, “I’m an engineering major.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not let out an audible laugh.

“How wonderful!” Grams enthused, blissfully unaware. Having too much fun, you then slid your hand a chair over to drag down Ellie’s thigh and felt as she tensed up.

The conversation continued at a steady pace and you removed your hand, not wanting to take things too far. Unexpectedly Ellie grabbed it, moving your limb back to its place and keeping her own hand rested on top. A big move considering just minutes ago she couldn’t even muster up the courage to compliment your dress.

You took this as permission to proceed and a simple resting hand turned to a grabby one, gripping at her inner thigh. Teasing the girl to incomparable lengths. She eventually followed in suit, slipping a few fingers under the hem of your dress just slightly before shying away at the dinner's conclusion. And even with such little touch, you were still absolutely soaking.

If only your grandparents knew what was going on under the table.

✄ - - - -   part 2   - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

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