Drabble Request:
Every person on your list gets to request a drabble from you. In return, they have to post this in their journal and write a drabble for you. Post all fandoms you're willing to write for. Your friends can pick a relationship, a story arc, a missing scene, or pretty much anything they want; unless the author has previously mentioned that they will
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Wannabe.
She goes as a whore.
Dressed up in her ripped fishnets, short skirt, smudged lipstick and mussed blonde hair she attracts a wave of surprised murmurs from the crowd before they turn back to their champagne and conversations. She doesn't look any different than usual, some people comment... Inside their heads.
It's those legs, those thighs that saunter down from beneath the almost-belt she's using as a skirt, the curve, the sweep of flesh and skin and glow and you are gone. Eyes following past lines that are no longer there off into fantasies.
She singles you out with the skill of a superhuman being, sending a chill through you. Fear or anticipation, you don't know. Most likely both. Walks over to you in platform heels that click as she moves, heel, toe, heel, toe...
Her perfume is purposely dizzying, to the point that you wrinkle your nose and almost want to step away. Almost, but don't, because it's her.
"Catwoman huh," she smirks, fingering the low neckline of your costume, "what, you want to be Halle Berry now?"
You blush under the mask you wear and grit your teeth. "She sucked in that film anyway."
"Shush," Gwen says, placing a finger to your lips now, "what if she's nearby in disguise? Or what if someone lets that get back to her? Someone like... Me?"
"Bitch," you hiss, and she shakes her head.
"Whore, honey." She replies with a smirk. "You're not very good at guessing costumes, are you."
She takes your hand in a vice-like grip and leads you to one of the empty rooms down the hall. You realise something after her hand has slid down inside your skintight catsuit, after she's pulled down the zip at the front with her teeth and pushed the straps from your shoulders. After she's bitten the flesh of your lip close to bleeding point and pushed a finger inside you to hear that uncontrollable whimper that tears itself from your throat. You realise she may have come as a whore, but it's obvious that she'll never be the one being used. She truly picked the perfect disguise.
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the mirrors gaze: It almost makes me feel sorry for Eve
the mirrors gaze: But it's hot, so I can't
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But still I'm glad you liked it so much, of course :D
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