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shockercoco · 1 month

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Bloodlust

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, blood kink, fingering, squirting, feyd being his usual self

Word count - 2009

a/n - Here's the runner up from my poll. I started a new job and it’s literally taking away my energy to write, but don’t worry I’m not going anywhere, and I will make time. I also wanted to say a quick hello to all the new readers, given the fact that I’ve gained a lot in the past couple of weeks, and I wanted to give a thanks to everyone for actually enjoying my work. That’s enough sappiness :)

“Head! Head! Head!” the crowd shouts down at Feyd who’s currently standing over a dead man’s body in the middle of the arena. He had just eliminated his opponent, and given the roar of the crow, they still wanted more.

You had your head turned for the majority of the battle, not wanting to see the gore. You would think you’d be used to everything by now, given the amount of family games you’ve been to since marrying Feyd, but all the blood and stabbing still makes you uneasy. Now, you’re just hoping that the crowd shouting head doesn’t mean what you think it means.

Feyd looks up at the spot next to you where his uncle, the Baron, sits in his chair chuckling at the crowd’s reaction. He makes eye contact silently asking for his uncle’s permission to continue, and the Baron just raises his hand and gives him a nod in response.

“Might as well give the people what they want, he’s earned it,” the Baron mutters.

You watch as a wicked smile grows on Feyd’s face as he turns his attention back to the lifeless body on the ground. One of his handlers walks up to him to hand him a chainsaw to which Feyd happily takes as he carelessly tosses his blade aside. He holds the chainsaw up in the air to show the crowd, causing the volume in the arena to increase.

He then proceeds to start up the chainsaw and begins sawing , all the while the sinister smirk on his face grows more and more. You expected to see blood flying everywhere, but all you saw was Feyd taking his sweet time. The crowd continues to cheer, but you roll your eyes at the sight before you. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Feyd’s bloodlust.

When the job is done, you take it as your cue to leave and head to Feyd’s chambers to meet him since he always cleans himself after a battle. Before he met you, he would think that bathing was a waste of time after a battle, but he decided to change his ways for your benefit. It’s not like you wanted to relive what happens in the arena.

You’re looking out of a floor-to-ceiling window in his chamber when Feyd bursts through the doors, a smile forming on his lips when he sees you. You ignore it though as you find yourself looking at the several spots of blood on his arm and shirt, one catching your eye. There’s a sizable dark stain on the side of his black shirt. He’s bleeding.

“You’re bleeding,” you point at the spot on his shirt, and Feyd stops in the middle of taking off his gear to look down and examine himself.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” he dismisses it with a wave of his hand as he continues removing his gear. “I let that fool get a couple jabs in to make him think he had a chance.”

You’re taken aback at his casual response. “I’m sorry, you let him hurt you? He could’ve given you a serious injury or worse. Are you insane- oh wait, I forgot. You are.”

He knows all the names that people call him behind his back, and he accepts them all; he finds them amusing. Feyd laughs at your reaction, knowing it comes from love, and walks toward you. “You worry too much, I won’t let anything happen to me. I know you wouldn’t be able to live without me.”

He places your hands in his as he stands in front of you with his signature smirk, but you remove your hands and look up at him. “That's not funny, I’m being serious.”

“I know, I know. You just need to relax,” he says and grabs your face in his hands as he looks down at you.

“Feyd-,” you begin to say, but he hushes you and gently rubs one of his thumbs across your lips.

“I said you need to relax.”

His voice is nothing more than a whisper now as he flicks his gaze between your eyes and lips. Finally, he leans down to connect his lips with yours with his hands still having a hold on your face. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, deciding to give up on getting through to him for now because there will no doubt be plenty of other times to have this talk. Your hands find themselves resting on his waist.

Feyd notices you giving in to him and smirks to himself. He then pushes you back a couple of steps until your body collides with the glass window you were staring out of just a few minutes ago. Feyd pulls back from you long enough to remove his shirt before continuing.

Your hands find themselves on his waist to bring him closer, but you pull away when your right hand touches his open wound. “Shouldn’t you be getting that looked at instead of trying to bed me?” you ask, slightly out of breath, as you look down at your dark blood stained hand. Feyd rolls his eyes at your question.

“I’ll get it looked at after, I promise,” he says, hoping you’ll move on, but when he notices you still looking at his side, he says, “Look, it doesn’t even hurt.”

He grabs one of your hands and places it on his open wound to press down, not even caring about the blood getting on his hand placed over yours. You hear feyd hum, not from pain, but from pleasure. Growing restless, Feyd takes matters into his own hands and forces your chin up, allowing him to connect his lips with yours once again. One of his arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him. He deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and you accept him.

His hand finds its way to your cheek again before slowly moving down your throat, leaving a trail of blood behind. Your mind doesn’t notice the wet feeling on the side of your face at first as Feyd begins sucking your tongue. You feel like you should be disgusted at him contaminating you, but instead it just arouses you even more. You let out a moan as you move your hands up to rest against his chest, your right hand leaving behind its own trail.

Feyd moves one of your hands back down to his injury, and you let him, succumbing to his morbid kink, though you’re starting to think about adding it to your mental list of turn-ons. A constant flow of warmth travels to your lower half, your body silently letting you know you’re finding pleasure in his sick ways.

All the while Feyd is grinding himself against you, pressing your back against the glass even more. A small damp spot begins to form on your panties as you feel his clothed length moving into you. He places one of his hands onto the glass behind you leaving it next to your face.

You can’t see it, but his partially stained hand leaves a thin handprint on the glass next to your head. You both have given up on trying to hold your breath, making the kiss sloppy as the heat from both of your mouths connect in the air between you. The sound of your guys’ saliva connecting can be heard in his normally quiet chamber.

He pulls his hips away from you to scrunch your gown up enough to stick his unstained hand underneath, letting the rest of the fabric drop back down. He cups you into his large hand, allowing the tips of his fingers to reach your folds over your panties, reaching where you need him the most. He receives a response from his action with you moaning into his mouth.

His touch is not enough, though, so you let out a whine hoping he gets the idea, which he does. You’re grateful for the fact that he doesn’t tease you and instead pushes your panties to the side.

Feyd swipes a finger through your folds to test your wetness, and once he feels the slickness on the sensitive skin, he instantly shoves a finger into your welcoming opening. You pull your mouth away from him to moan as he begins fingering you involuntarily squeeze his wound, causing him to groan at the same time. The hand on his chest and the one on his side move up to grab onto Feyd’s shoulders to stabilize yourself as you feel your legs weakening.

“Why’d you pull away from me, my darling? Too much?” Feyd teases as he continues to pump his finger into you, watching as a look of pleasure forms on your face.

He smirks at your whimpering response before shoving another finger into you. He leans back to continuing observing the sight in front of him as he watches you fall apart, his mouth slightly ajar.

“You’re enjoying this?” Feyd asks you as he pulls his stained hand away from the glass and uses it to place a firm grip on your chin, forcing your head up to him. The words came out as a question, but it was more of an acknowledgment at the fact of you finding pleasure with his dirty hands. The revelation sends a rush of blood to his already hard cock.

You don’t answer since you’re too busy whimpering, so he gives your chin a shake. “Open your eyes, and answer me,” he tells you.

“Yes…I am,” you answer breathlessly after opening your eyes. You squeeze his shoulders to help keep your focus on him.

Feyd lets out a faint “yes” under his breath as he tries to stop his mouth from watering as he looks at your blood covered skin. He then removes the hand on your chin to gather both of your in his, pinning them above you against the glass window.

As he feels your climax approaching, Feyd increases the pace of his fingers inside you. The arousal dripping out of you and clinging to your folds as a result of him driving into you, allows for a wet squelching sound to echo in your head. A long whine falls out of your mouth as he forces you closer and closer to your orgasm while you arch into him and grind your hips into his hand.

Once you feel that warm wave wash through you as you finally cum, your breath catches in your throat causing you to let out a silent cry of pleasure as your eyes roll back into your skull. When you feel yourself squirt onto the tiles beneath you, you allow your eyes to squeeze shut as Feyd continues to finger you. He groans as he listens to your liquid hit the ground.

“Oh my god,” you shriek at his relentless torment into your cunt.

Feyd chuckles and gives you an open mouth smile. “There we go, just like that,” he whispers. You whine in response.

When he finally stops, he pulls his drenched fingers out of you. You’re still leaking onto the ground as you watch Feyd stick his fingers into his mouth, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. You let out a trembling sigh as Feyd releases his hold on your hands above your head, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully catch your breath as he grabs you and places you onto his bed.

“You know, my darling, I thought you absolutely hated blood and the ways of this planet. It seems I have ruined you,” Feyd smirks down at you as he drags a thumb across your bottom lip.

You look up at him as you accept the fact that he’s right.

Feyd looks over at one of his walls with several knives and blades mounted onto it, and you follow his gaze. He looks back at you with a questioning look.

You feel your heart stop, but also another wave of arousal flows through your pelvis, as you realize what he wants.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #feyd rautha smut #dune part 2

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Anna Magnani (Rome Open City, Mamma Roma, The Rose Tattoo)—don't take my word for it, here are some of the things she was called during her career: "la lupa (the wolf) of Italian cinema," "passionate, fearless, and exciting," "the volcanic earth mother of all Italian cinema," "one of the most impressive actresses since Garbo," "Whenever Magnani laughs or cries (which is often), it's as if you've never seen anyone laugh or cry before: has laughter ever been so burstingly joyful or tears so shatteringly sad?" and maybe best of all, from Tennessee Williams, who wrote multiple roles specifically for her: "She is simply a rare being who seems to have about her a little lightning-shot cloud all her own...In a crowded room, she can sit perfectly motionless and silent and still you feel the atmospheric tension of her presence, its quiver and hum in the air like a live wire exposed, and a mood of Anna's is like the presence of royalty."

Nutan (Bandini, Anari, Seema)— In an era where plump and petite women were considered the height of beauty, Nutan was thin and gangly. While her beauty is obvious today, she was considered somewhat unusual throughout her acting career, which contains over 70 films. Contrary to the belief that female actresses careers ended after marriage, Nutan won four of her five Filmfare Awards after her marriage and the birth of her son. Nutan was known for her gorgeous, emotive brown eyes and her incredible singing voice.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anna Magnani:

An icon of post-war neorealist italian cinema - an unbelievably good actress. Also, the first non-english speaking actress to win the Oscar for Best Actress (in 1956)!

realness!! amid the typical hollywood pristine glamour anna magnani stuck out as sexy in a really real, grounded way. so much so that even shallow 40s hollywood allowed her to come over from italy to be in some high profile movies. an icon

She smoked, she drank, she didn't give a f-. Her acting was described as explosive, with a lot of emotions and drama and they called her a she-wolf. Playwright Tennessee Williams became an admirer of her acting and wrote The Rose Tattoo (1955) specifically for her to star in, a role for which she received an Academy Award for Best Actress, becoming the first Italian – and first non-English speaking woman – to win an Oscar.

Nutan:

#nutan #anna magnani #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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bitethehnd · 2 months

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softbutch!julien x highfemme!reader hcs ♡

cw : sfw, afabfem!reader, petnames, butchfemme dynamics, disustingly cute fluff, musician!reader, curly hair!reader, pre-relationship and established relationship :) heavily inspired by this fic, go read it!

a/n : i realize this isn't for everyone, i love all my gnc / non-femme babies! if this dynamic doesn't apply to you, go ahead and skip! this is very self-indulgent and i didn't really think i'd every publish this, but you guys requested it in my poll! for all my butches and femmes, ily ♡

✧ from the moment julien's eyes locked with yours, she knew she had to meet you

˖ the day you two met was around four years ago. you were a small, nashville-born artist performing with your band in a local lesbian bar. the crowd wasn't huge, and the pay wasn't great, but you loved performing to people that shared that same connection with you. the feeling of growing up different and the alienation that came with it

˖ you were on the small stage in the back of the bar, singing your heart out to the small crowd. the people around were dancing and drinking, enjoying one of the only places they felt comfortable in. julien was amongst them, but she was alone. she had come to this small bar to get inspiration for her new album. she thanked the heavens above that she made that decision. she got to see you for the first time. you were the prettiest thing she had ever seen. she knew she would kick herself for the rest of her life if she didn't talk to you after your performance

˖ the deep red dress you wore was lacy and frilly, matching the pattern of your stockings. your hair was tied half back with a bow the same shade of crimson. you bounced around on stage like you had trained your whole life for it. the flawlessness and perfection of the way you sung pulled julien in, becoming mesmerized by your siren-like voice

˖ your eyes full of excitement scanned across the room curiously, observing everyone with interest as you sung into the microphone. as soon as your eyes connected with julien's, you felt a jitter in your lungs. she stood on the side of the stage, a glass of water in hand, just silently observing you with curiosity. she was beautiful. utterly handsome. she wore a white button down tucked into a pair of baggy blue jeans, black oxfords on her feet, and simple jewelry scarcely scattered around her body. you quickly took your eyes off her and to a random point around the room, feeling your face heat up. julien smiled at the sight and immediately knew she had to know you

˖ after your band finished the small show, you all headed into the back room of the bar. you all stored away your instruments to pick up later, as you all decided to mingle about the crowd and stay for a while. you grabbed your purse, put on a fresh coat of lip gloss and made your way back to the front. you stayed close to your guitarist, daisy, at the bar, feeling a bit overwhelmed in the presence of all the people there. you ordered a simple cherry coke, not feeling like being hungover tomorrow when you had to go back to your day job

˖ soon enough, daisy left you alone to go talk to a woman that caught her eye. you took small sips of your drink as you sat at the bar, doe eyes gazing around you. in that moment, you saw the handsome woman from before. she was engaged in a simple conversation with one of the other bartenders farther down from you. she turned her head, and you locked eyes again. she seemed to have a conflicting look on her face before excusing herself from the bartender and making her way over to where you sat. your eyes widened as she walked over, not expecting her to actually come and talk to you

˖ julien strolled over and stood next to you, setting her glass of water down on the bar top. she had a small smile on her face, almost a smirk, as she looked up at you. “hi, sweetheart. can i sit?” you quickly nodded your head in confirmation. you turned your body to the side to face her as she sat, a shy smile on your face. she was even prettier up close. “i’m y/n! it’s nice to meet you,” you said gently. “i’m julien, nice to meet you too, sweetheart. your performance was wonderful,” she said softly, her confidence slowly deteriorating. she could hardly think when all she smelled was your vanilla perfume. “oh god, thank you! i’m glad someone was listening. usually, my band only plays small shows so it’s hard to get people engaged.” god, you were adorable. “of course. it would be hard not to listen, your voice is so beautiful. i’m in a band myself, actually.”

˖ thus began the meaningful conversation about music and your own bands. julien told you she was a part of boygenius. you revealed that you knew of the band’s ep released two years prior and loved the music. you even knew a couple of her solo songs and told her your favorites. this made julien smile brightly and the connection deepened

˖ eventually, your other bands members came up to you and said they were leaving after about 30 minutes of conversing with julien. you were disappointed but bid her goodbye. before you could make an exit, she grabbed your bicep gently to hold you back. "could i... get your number?" she asked with hope. you immediately nodded your head with an excited smile, typing your number in her phone, putting a little heart by your name. she grinned at your cuteness. just before you left, you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. she touched the spot absentmindedly as she walked to her car, a red print of lips stuck to the apple of her cheek

✧ julien courting you

˖ your meeting at the bar was the first, but definitely not the last time you saw julien. the next day, she quickly texted you as she woke up. she wanted to text you as soon as you left her sight the night before but didn't want to seem too eager. she shot you a message to let you know it was her before asking how you slept, ever the gentleman. you two quickly got caught in another conversation, both smiling on separate ends of the phone. she asked all about your hobbies. she learned that you didn't just have an affinity for music, but also for art and history. she decided then and there that she had to take you to an art museum

˖ your text conversations went on like this for a few days. all you could do when chatting with her was lay on your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet and feeling your face heat up. you felt like a high schooler all over again. you constantly felt yourself biting the inside of your cheeks to stop the grin from spreading on your face every time a message from her popped up on the screen

˖ thus begun the start of your dates. julien followed through with taking you to an art museum, loving the way your face lit up with joy at all the paintings and sculptures. some frequent spots for the two of you were homey coffee shops (julien's favorite, obviously), magical gardens, taking hikes among beautiful trees, and just sitting and talking. it didn't matter what you two did, it just mattered that you were together

˖ julien adored the way you wrapped your arm around her bicep, when you let her drape her coat over your shoulders, the sweet kisses you pressed to her cheek. the smirk never fell from her face for hours after you did anything affectionate. you felt giddy every time she called you 'sweetheart' or 'pretty,' when she protectivly wrapped her arm around your waist in crowded spaces, or when brought you small gifts. she never came to get you empty handed. she always came to pick you up from your apartment complex, open the car door for you, and always had a gift waiting for you on the seat. some common ones were records you had talked about, flowers, books, or a new one of your favorite foods that changed every week. julien never missed the little things you said, always storing them into her memory for a later use

˖ you loved getting to know her. nights spent sitting on the roof of your apartment, gazing at the stars were your favorites. every little single thing about her was interesting to you, and vice versa. you loved hearing about the bands that inspired her to make music, her favorite tattoos, or funny stories from her childhood. she loved when you talked about your favorite stuffed animal you religiously slept with as a little girl, your ramblings about the pros and cons of lipgloss brands, or just how pretty the sky looked at a particular moment

˖ after about three weeks of seeing each other almost every day, she asked you to be her girlfriend. a little slow compared to most lesbian relationships, but julien wanted to find the perfect time to ask. she didn't wat this to be a whirlwind romance, she wanted seriousness and commitment. you were both willing to give it to each other. she took you to that art museum she remembered you saying you liked. you looked utterly gorgeous strolling around and gazing at all the paintings, curly hair tied with a bow swinging behind you. you two walked around for about an hour, her arm wrapped firmly around your waist. every time you commented about how pretty an art piece was, she'd reply with "not as pretty as you." it never failed to leave you more infatuated with her

˖ after the museum date, she took you to a beautiful park filled with the blooming flowers of spring. you gazed around in wonder, eyes taking in the pretty sight. julien sat you down on a park bench, turning to face you, clasping your hands into her own. you were a bit confused and the anxiety of her telling you she didn't want to see you anymore crept up. before you could voice your thoughts, she asked the question, "can i be your girlfriend?" you answered immediately with a loving kiss to her lips, which she took as a yes. after the moment of passion was over, she pulled out a small box from the pocket of her leather jacket. she handed it to you with a small, nervous smile on her face, telling you to open it. inside the red velvet box was a heart shaped necklace with the letter 'j' on it. she pulled up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a matching bracelet, the heart having your initial on it instead

✧ when you’re dating, julien never stops falling in love with you, and you fall right with her

˖ even after you two get together, the dates never come to a stop. at least once a week, either you or julien plan something together. whether it be a cooking class, sitting in a field and sketching, or playing each other your new music

˖ after about two months of dating, she asks you to move in with her. lucy warned her it might be “too quick,” but julien wasn’t hearing any of it. she wanted to be around you all the time, completely infatuated. you weren’t much better. you joke that if she could crawl inside your skin and live there, she would. she doesn’t disagree, but she wasn’t going to tell you that

˖ now, as a butch, moving in is julien’s thing. she’s anxious and over-prepared when she shows up to your house the day of the move. she refused to hire moving men because she insisted she could “do everything a man could do and better.” she’s not wrong there, so you don’t protest. she disassembles all your furniture that you’re taking with you to her house with ease. she wasn’t lying when she said she was handy. and she refuses to even let you carry the lightest box, smirking and saying, “don’t want you to chip a nail.” you smack her on the back of the head and plop down on the ground, just watching her. you do sneak a couple boxes though…

˖ after you got all of your belongings loaded into the u-haul truck (ironic, i know), you set off to her house. during the whole drive, she rambled about where to put all the new furniture and how exciting it was going to be to live together. you just stared at her with loving eyes and a soft smile, nodding alone to whatever random thought popped in her head

˖ when you got to her apartment, she got all of your essential things in and decided she'd get the rest in the morning. while she did that, you rummaged through her cabinets to find something to cook for dinner. you picked a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs. as she placed the last box down, you served the pasta at the dining table. she wiped the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt while you tried so hard to not stare at her abs, you failed. she gave you a cocky smile when she caught you but said nothing. you two sat and ate your first dinner in your shared apartment, basking in the glow of love

˖ the longer you two lived together, the more accustomed you guys got to a routine. you'd be the one to get up first in the morning, julien still snoring like a middle-aged dad, while you made breakfast. you'd gently shake her awake and lead her to the kitchen, tempting her with the aroma of coffee and bacon. she always swore you made coffee "better than dunkin,'" but you knew that was a lie. never get in the way of that woman and her dunkin' donuts. after breakfast, julien would go on a jog. while she did that, you read a favorite book of yours or plan out some new songs

˖ the list of pet names she called you lengthened every day. there was a rang of sweet ones, like baby, babe, princess, angel, sweetheart, honey, doll, etc. but she also called you ones you figured she pulled out of her ass, no idea where she even got the idea from. you knew they were all a joke and it made you laugh with disgust ever time. some are pookie (phoebe's idea, of course), snookums, the wife (your favorite), boss, the missus, sugar tits and punk. you have some for her too, but she defiantly wins in the pet name category

˖ dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night, illuminated by the refrigerator light ♡♡♡ she puts on some records from the 50's and you slow dance until the sun comes up. she keeps a firm hand on your waist and yours on the shoulders, her twirling and dipping you just to hear you giggle in delight

˖ let me tell you, this woman cannot keep her hands off of you, especially when in public. she always has a hand on the small of your back, leading you through crowds. or her fingers interlaced with your while doing mundane things, like getting groceries or walking through the park. it intensifies even more when at your apartment. her hand acts like its glued to your thigh during movie nights or her hands around your waist, standing behind you while you're doing the dishes

˖ she loves loves lovesss watching you do your hair or makeup, even offering to help sometimes. you look so focused applying your mascara or gliding on lip gloss. she even lets you give her makeovers sometimes, but only with the premise of no pictures (you do sneak a few though). she especially loves doing your hair. she's as careful as possible, understanding your hair is hard to deal with and can be knotty at times. she knows by heart to "only brush it when it's wet!!!" she has straight hair, so she does extensive research on what products and techniques are best for your hair type. she adores putting little bows all over your curls

˖ overall, the relationship is healthy and so full of love. you and julien fit so well together, it's almost like you were crafted to be each other's soulmate

#bitethehnd #julien baker x reader #julien baker au #julien baker x you #julien baker fanfic #butch #femme4butch #femme #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #sapphism #butch4femme #boygenius x reader #julien baker headcanons #julien baker hcs #boygenius fanfic #butchfemme

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marinawolf · 3 months

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It's You (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

The poll has spoken! Here it is- the angsty Supercorp fic (with a little bit of action and plot- it's a little long, sorry. I was gonna do two parts but that just complicates things so it's alllll here.)

Lena finds out after Lex decides to play a cruel game. (Filled with angst, betrayal, yearning etc etc. First kiss.)

3k words

The moon hung low in the inky sky, casting a haunting glow on National City. On the rooftop of the L Corp building, Kara lingered in the shadows, a solitary figure with a completely useless glass of champagne clutched in her hands, her eyes fixated on Lena. Oh, how she longed for the oblivion of intoxication. It would make things so much easier.

Kara sighed, taking a pointless sip from her champagne flute, the bubbles tickling her throat. The cool breeze ruffled her hair as she watched Lena. The world was enchanted by Lena Luthor, and Kara was no exception. She was everything - brilliant, brave, kind and beautiful. So so beautiful that Kara sometimes forgot how to breathe around her. Kara's fingers traced the rim of her champagne glass and she tried to tear her eyes away from Lena, a futile attempt to distract herself from the ache in her chest.

But unable to resist, Kara's gaze lingered on Lena's face, tracing the delicate curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes. She watched as Lena moved through the crowd, a vision in a black dress that sparkled in the moonlight, as if there were constellations wrapped around her body. The air seemed charged with an energy that only Kara felt, her super senses attuned to every detail. Lena's laughter, her heartbeat, the subtle shifts in her expressions - all of it was amplified for Kara. She could feel the familiar tug at her heart. Lena seemed so close yet so impossibly far away. The desire to confess, to bare her soul to Lena, burned within Kara. But the fear of rejection, of losing the one person who had come to mean everything to her, kept her rooted in silence. The irony wasn't lost on her - Supergirl, capable of facing the most formidable foes, was paralyzed by the mere thought of losing Lena.

A bitter taste lingered on Kara's tongue as she took another sip, futilely attempting to drown her emotions. If only she could find the courage to tell Lena the truth - that she was Supergirl, and that she was hopelessly and desperately in love with her.

Almost as if sensing Kara's gaze on her, Lena's eyes flickered toward hers and the most breathtaking smile formed on her face, causing Kara's heart to stop for a moment. Rao, those eyes. Kryptonite had nothing on those eyes, and when Kara looked into them, she could see her life unfolding in those shades of green.

Lena immediately made her way towards Kara, her arms already outstretched for a hug that felt like home.

"You look gorgeous, Lena", Kara whispered against Lena's neck, and she could swear that she heard Lena's breath catch.

As they parted, Lena's hand found Kara's wrist, "Why are you hiding in the corner? Come with me," Lena urged, gently tugging Kara towards the bustling crowd.

It was the last place she wanted to be but Kara couldn't say no. With a silent nod, she let Lena guide her, knowing that wherever Lena went, she would willingly follow.

"You okay?"

Kara blinked back to the present as Lena's concerned voice cut through the monotonous corporate chatter. She had zoned out as a man they were talking to droned on about his company. For some reason, she was finding it harder to stifle her feelings for Lena tonight and found herself spiralling, her thoughts running wild.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am. Why?"

"You just seem out of it tonight. Do you want to leave? I'll just say my goodbyes, and we can get out of here," Lena suggested, her concern evident in her eyes.

Kara smiled at Lena, a warmth budding in her chest. Lena would totally leave her own event to take Kara home if Kara asked her to. She was that wonderful of a friend. They would probably end up at Lena's apartment, drinking wine and watching movies until Lena passed out, cuddled into Kara's side, making it so that Kara couldn't leave. And Kara would allow herself the indulgence- she would wrap her arms around Lena and close her eyes, and pretend that this was something else- something more. She allowed herself those moments of fantasy. And when they woke up entangled in each other the next morning, they would laugh it off, blaming it on the wine.

But no. Lena needed to be here. It was her event, after all and Kara needed to get some space anyway, and maybe some proper alien alcohol from her stash at home.

"You can't leave, Lena," she laughed, "but I think I am a bit tired. So I'm gonna go, okay?"

Lena's frowned, her gaze meeting Kara's, something indiscernible flickering within her eyes.

"Kara," Lena began, her voice holding a note of urgency, yet before she could continue, a sudden, deafening bang echoed through the air. Kara's eyes shot upward, shock and awe registering on her face as the night sky seemingly exploded around them.

Fire rained down on the rooftop and instinctively, Kara moved to take action, but before she could, Lena's arms enveloped her protectively, attempting to shield her from the fire and debris. It was a moment where the absurdity almost made Kara want to laugh. She felt momentarily frozen. Yet, she knew she couldn't remain passive. She had to save Lena. She had to save everyone.

A second explosion jolted the rooftop, causing Lena to lose her balance and her grip on Kara to falter. Taking the opportunity, Kara broke away from Lena and ducked into a corner, returning immediately as Supergirl.

Her first instinct was to ensure Lena's safety, and she grabbed her and lifted her off the rooftop, intending to carry her away from the looming danger. However, Lena resisted fiercely, fighting against Kara's hold, her frantic eyes scanning the rooftop.

"No!" Lena screamed, her voice fraught with desperation. "Kara is still there. I need to get Kara."

The plea reverberated through the night, casting a heavy shadow on Kara's heart.

"I'll find Kara. Don't worry," Kara reassured, her voice strained with the weight of deception.

She could see the anguish and worry in Lena's eyes, a reflection of deep concern that extended beyond the immediate danger. The worry was for her, for Kara, and as Kara soared back into the night sky, leaving Lena on the ground, the burden of keeping her identity hidden, of denying the depth of her feelings, felt like it could pull her down.

Kara cleared the rest of the guests off the rooftop swiftly and returned alone, hovering over it, scanning for the source of the explosion. To her surprise, there was none. It was as if the night had imploded onto itself, as if the air itself had ignited. The absence of a visible threat left Kara unsettled- this wasn't meant to cause any harm. A sense of foreboding washed over her as realization struck—this must have been some sort of diversion.

Panic gripped Kara's mind, and a single name echoed through her thoughts. There was only one person who would cause chaos at an L Corp event, and that meant one thing—Lena was in danger.

Racing back to where she left Lena, Kara found no-one there. In the place where Lena should have been waiting for her, a small white card had been placed on the ground.

Kara reached for the card, her hands trembling.

You are cordially invited to the Luthor family reunion.

The air became heavy with the worst kind of fear, and as Kara clenched the card in her trembling hands, a desperate scream threatened to escape her lips. Where did he take Lena?

At the DEO, Kara's anxiety echoed through the room as she paced, the worry etched on her face. Frustration, fear and desperation boiled within her.

"Why can't we find her?" She shouted, her anger bouncing around the room, shocking the agents around her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Alex, a concerned look on her face,

"Lex is very good at hiding, Kara. We're doing the best we can. We will find her," she reassured, though the words did little to quell Kara's mounting panic.

Kara felt a surge of helplessness, a burning desire to do whatever it took to locate Lena, even if it meant tearing the whole world apart and yet all she could do was uselessly wait around for a lead.

Just as she approached a point of no return, Winn's voice called out,

"I think I have something," he announced, drawing everyone's attention. "I hijacked city cams and ran facial recognition. Traffic cameras picked up Lena's face outside an abandoned warehouse. There's someone with her."

Kara's heart skipped a beat, hope coursing through her veins.

"Where is it?" she demanded, desperation edging her voice.

As Winn relayed the address, Alex grabbed her arm,

"Wait, Kara. Let us prep a team to go with you. It's probably a trap. You can't go in alone."

Kara's resolve hardened, her gaze steely with determination.

"I don't care, Alex. It's Lena."

With those words hanging in the air, she broke free from Alex's grasp and bolted from the DEO, propelled by the determination to rescue the woman she couldn't live without.

Kara reached the warehouse and effortlessly tore through the heavy iron doors. Her determined advance faltered as she took in the scene before her—Lex Luthor, armed and wearing a manic smile, stood with a gun pointed at Lena who, to Kara's relief, looked unharmed. Kara couldn't bare to see the terrified look on Lena's face, but she knew that if she let herself give in to the fear, she would never get them out alive.

"Ah, Supergirl, you made it!" he grinned, reveling in the chaos. "Look, sister, our guest of honor has arrived. Now we can start."

Kara moved towards Lena, but before she could reach her, Lex grabbed Lena and pressed his gun to her head.

"Nuh uh, Supergirl," he tutted, "You don't want your best friend to get hurt, now do you?"

Kara felt a chill creeping over her as she stood paralyzed.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the panic surging through her, "Me? I'm here—let her go, Lex."

Lex laughed. "Oh, Supergirl. Where's the fun in that? Let you sacrifice yourself and be the hero again? No. No, this time we're going to play a little game."

He retrieved a button from his pocket, and the floor beneath Kara illuminated with the ominous glow of kryptonite.

"Supergirl, no," Lena shouted, trying to step forward, but Lex tightened his grip on her, and pressed the gun harder into her temple.

"One little push of this button will make that lead floor disappear, and one little pull on this trigger can end my dear sister's life. Okay? Do we understand the rules? Good, now that the stakes are set, let's play a little game of truth. No dare, just truth."

"Please, Lex," Kara begged, "Let her go."

"Oh, I will. If you play my game, Supergirl."

Kara closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. When she opened it again, she was resolved to do whatever it took to save Lena.

"Fine. Let's play."

"What a good sport," Lex taunted. "The game is simple. You tell the truth—you win. And there's only one question that we need to answer. Lena, who is Supergirl?"

Lena frowned, uncertainty clouding her features. "I don't know."

"Come, sister, you're smarter than that. Think carefully." Lex goaded, a malicious glint in his eyes.

Kara's heart pounded fiercely—this was Lex's plan. He knew. Somehow he knew, and he intended to use that knowledge to shatter the one thing she valued most in the world: her friendship with Lena.

"I. Don't. Know," Lena spoke through gritted teeth, her frustration evident. "Let her go, Lex. Let me go. There's no need for any of this."

"Oh, but there is," he replied, unyielding. "Okay, Supergirl—your turn. Answer truthfully now, or else I'll have to pull this trigger. Does Lena know you? The real you?"

Kara's gaze shifted to Lena, a silent plea in her eyes. She had to answer.

"Yes," she said softly, lifting her eyes to meet Lena's. Confusion etched Lena's face, and Kara's heart ached. Not like this.

Lex's smile widened, savoring the unfolding drama. "Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Lena, your turn again. Tell me, did Supergirl save your best friend today?"

Kara watched as anguish and panic filled Lena's eyes, the unspoken plea evident. "I don't know. Is Kara...? Is she okay?" The desperation in Lena's voice broke Kara's heart.

Before Kara could utter a word, Lex spoke, coercing Lena, "Come on, Lena. I know you're smarter than this."

He turned his gaze to Kara. "Tell her, Supergirl. Tell her about her best friend."

A sob escaped Lena's throat. "Oh god, please. Tell me she's okay. Tell me she's alive," Lena begged, and Kara felt her heart shatter.

"Tell her, Supergirl. The truth about her best friend."

Lex's words hung heavy in the air, and Kara knew exactly what he meant.

She looked into Lena's tear-filled eyes,

"Lena," she said, softly, "Lena, I—"

But before she could continue, she saw recognition dawn in Lena's eyes.

"No," Lena whispered, her voice trembling. "It's you? It has been you this whole time? Oh god, Kara, I thought you had—" Lena choked on a sob.

Kara remained silent, witnessing Lena's heartbreak unfold as the realization settled in.

"I'm sorry, Lena. I wanted to tell you so many times, but—"

"But you didn't," Lena's voice turned hard, the sense of betrayal evident. "Kara." She said her name like an accusation, and Kara wished she could vanish into the earth.

"I confided in you that everyone in my past had betrayed me. About how much it hurt to have someone you love lie to you and betray you, and you—" Lena's voice faltered, "You were playing me all along, Kara."

Kara felt her own tears fall. She had done the one thing she never wanted to do—she had hurt Lena.

"Lena, I was trying to protect you. Your family—"

"What?" Lena interrupted her, "You thought that you couldn't trust me because I'm a Luthor? Despite everything, Kara, you didn't trust me?"

"I would trust you with my life, Lena. I do trust you with my life. I just never wanted you to ever have to choose between me and your family! I didn't want to put you in that position."

Lex put the gun down, and Kara almost sagged in relief. "My work here is done," he smiled in satisfaction.

Then, surprising them both, he handed the kryptonite remote to Lena. "Take it, sister. I, at least, trust you to do the right thing. You'll always just be a Luthor to them."

When Kara saw Lena's fingers wrap around the remote, her heart shattered. Lex walked away, leaving them alone.

"Lena, please."

"What, Supergirl? Don't kill you? Isn't that what you would expect from a Luthor?" she spat.

"Lena, you're angry. I understand, but—"

"Oh god," Lena said, "You actually think I would hurt you?"

"Never," Kara said, "Lena, I'm—"

"You don't get it, do you, Kara? I would have chosen you. Over anyone. Over anything." She let the remote drop to the floor, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse.

"Lena," Kara whispered, her voice tinged with fear of the impending fallout.

The prospect that Lena might come to hate her felt more daunting than facing any physical threat. She would rather have Lena press that button than have to live with Lena hating her. Lena wasn't just a friend; she was the woman Kara loved, and the thought of losing her was unbearable. With everything on the line, Kara had to say it, to lay bare the truth that had been concealed for so long.

"Lena, I'm sorry. I know I should have told you sooner, about who I am, but please, please believe me. I was only trying to protect you. I didn't know how to tell you. You became my friend, and I thought it would be okay, that I could be Kara for you and still keep this hidden—keep you safe from it all. And then you became my best friend, and by then, I was too scared of losing you to tell you. And then—Rao, Lena, I fell in love with you, and it became too difficult to tell you. I was scared, and I didn't know how. I love you, and the thought of losing you—I knew that I wouldn't be able to breathe if I lost you. Lena, you are the single most important thing in the universe to me."

Lena fell to her knees, and Kara rushed to her, desperate to bridge the emotional chasm that had opened between them.

"I love you, Lena. I have loved you for a long time. Please, please forgive me."

"I want to hate you, but I can't," Lena whispered, her voice a fragile blend of hurt and conflict.

Despite it all, Lena pulled Kara into a fierce embrace, clutching onto her desperately. Kara tightened her grip around Lena, feeling Lena's silent tears seep into her shoulder.

Finally, Lena pushed Kara away, standing up, leaving them both to grapple with the emotional turmoil that hung heavy in the air. Kara rose to her feet, and they faced each other, the tension between them casting a daunting shadow.

"What now?" Kara asked, her voice soft, the fear of Lena's response palpable.

Lena met her gaze intensely, and Kara detected a flicker of conflict in Lena's eyes. It was as if the turmoil within Lena was written in the air between them, as if she was wrestling with a decision.

Then, without warning, Lena pulled Kara in, crashing her lips against hers with a desperate urgency. Kara, initially stunned, quickly melted into the kiss, mirroring Lena's desperation. She could taste the saltiness of Lena's tears on her lips, the kiss carrying a weight as if their very lives depended on it, as if Lena held Kara's breath captive. The world around Kara dissolved, leaving only Lena—her lips, her hands. Lena became the singular reality that mattered to Kara, the only thing tethering her to this world.

Finally, they pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, both breathing heavily.

"I'm hurt," Lena whispered, her voice laden with vulnerability. "You hurt me, Kara. But I can't imagine being without you. I love you."

Kara's heart clenched at Lena's words.

And as their lips met again, Kara vowed to spend the rest of her life trying to make it up to Lena. She would never hurt her again.

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beingsuneone · 7 months

Text

The One

SYNOPSIS: it would’ve been fun. If he would’ve been the one.

FANDOM: Harry Potter

PAIRING(S): Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Theo, Pansy, Enzo, Blaise, Tom, Voldemort

GENRE/AU: Angst, Unhappy ending, Arranged Marriage Au!, reader is married to Goyle (not by choice),

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Angst

A/N: *cough* the 1 by Taylor Swift was my inspo. *cough* header and dividers made by me. I would also like to make a part two to this. Note: Voldemort/Toms son Tom Jr who looks exactly like him! (Pre-Voldemort)!AU hope this helps.

DEDICATIONS: the people who voted for him in the poll :)

CREDITS: N/A

The silver band on your finger glistens in the bright lights of the wedding hall, looking anything but enticing; instead of a symbol of love and comfort, it was like a shackle that tied you to a man you didn’t love forever.

Your eyes scan the crowd for the millionth time this evening, trying to seek out a pair of familiar brown eyes— your heart drops for the millionth time this evening, and you realize all over again that no matter how many times your eyes search for his, it will not make him appear.

He won’t come, you know that now as your new husband leans over to ‘kiss the bride’.

You try to wipe the disappointment off of your face, let go of his messy brown curls and smooth words, his rough hands and intoxicating scent.

Mattheo Riddle wasn’t yours to think about anymore; the man in front of you was.

Why your father thought a marriage alliance with Gregory Goyle would help your family, you’ll never know.

Worse, Goyle was, at one point, at least a decent friend of yours; You, Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Enzo, Blaise, Tom, Goyle, and Crabbe, used to strut around Hogwarts like you owned the place— let’s be honest, you damn near did. You and your protective group of Slytherins.

You allow your lips to touch Goyle’s for only a moment before you pull back and smile cordially; the two of you walk arm-in-arm down the aisle until you reach the doors at the end.

The moment you’re through, you push him away.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says sadly. “If I could have said no, I would have.”

You shake your head, not even listening. “He didn’t even come, Goyle. I thought he’d at least try.”

Goyle sighs. “It wasn’t up to any of us. Not even Mattheo.”

Your eyes sting so you force your face to go deadpan and stare at Goyle. “I will always love you as a friend, Goyle, but I will never love you as anything more.” You say, retreating towards your dressing room.

He says nothing in return. He doesn’t need to. The feeling is mutual.

You enter your dressing room and release a strained breath, resting your head against the door after you close it.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to daydream; to think what this day would be like if Mattheo was the one wearing a suit, the one saying his vows and sliding a ring onto your finger. You let yourself imagine all of the things you would’ve shared with him in this alternate reality, all the joy you might’ve felt. The future you might’ve been able to look forward to.

A tear slips silently down your cheek as your throat closes, suffocating you in the feelings you wish you were feeling.

Someone clears their throat and your eyes fly open, as your whole body snaps stick straight.

It’s your father, sitting eery and alone in a dark room. “You had to grow up one day, Y/n,” he says as his cold gaze sweeps over you. “Stop running around with that Riddle kid and risking your future.”

You shake your head. “The only real future I had was with him, Father.” You tug on the skirt on your wedding dress, and then your hair. “All this— this glamour and camaraderie is you, father, you playing puppeteer with real live people. I don’t know what status you think you’ll get from Goyle, of all people.”

Your father just sneers and pulls up his sleeve— an elaborate tattoo meant to symbolize his allegiance to Voldemort. The dark mark. He says, “You know exactly who that boy’s father is, and exactly where that puts me in relation.” He pauses. “This is what the Dark Lord wanted, Y/n.”

“…what?” Your mouth hangs open, and you wonder why the dark lord would want to torment you personally. “Why would he… I don’t understand.”

Your father just brushes past you and twists the door open. “If the Dark Lord doesn’t tell, you do not ask.”

……

“You’re going to marry him, right?” Pansy asks, smiling at you in the way that friends do when you have a crush on someone.

You shrug, playing it cool but despite your heart going a thousand miles a minute; excitement courses through your veins at the thought of Mattheo. “I think we’d have to become an actual thing first, Pansy.” You laugh.

She winks at you playfully. “I don’t think that’ll take too long, Y/n, He is whipped for you.”

You shake your head. “He is not.” Your heart still flutters.

“He is.” A new voice cuts in, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You turn to face Mattheo, who is now leaning in the doorframe.

What an entrance.

Pansy looks between the two of you and smirks mischievously. “I‘ll leave you two alone and go bug Blaise.” She slips past Mattheo.

You can’t meet his eyes as you grin stupidly at the floor, and the shirt in your hand.

“You talk about me often?” He says, settling on the floor next to you; he breaks you out of your stupor by gently tugging the shirt out of your hands.

You finally look at him. “No, only when Pansy brings you up. Which is always.” You bite your lip as you smile. “I don’t mind it though, you’re one of my favourite subjects.”

“That’s good,” he agrees, toying with a lock of your hair. “I think the guys are sick of hearing about you.”

“Of course they are,” you banter, “They already know everything about me.”

Mattheo leans in closer. “I don’t think they know everything.” His head dips down until his lips are just millimeters from yours. “They wouldn’t know what your lips feel like, would they?”

He bridges the gap and the two of you spent what is probably several minutes just kissing, and when he pulls away you’re breathless.

“No, I don’t think they know that.” Your voice comes out high-pitched, still trying to catch your breath both mentally and physically.

“I hope they never find out.” He says quietly.

You nod absent-mindedly. “Me too.”

….

You sigh deeply and set down the box in your new living room. Trying to put a positive spin on it, you think about how it won’t be terrible living with a friend instead of your parents, who were never there when they needed to be and always there when you needed them to leave.

Emotionally and physically.

You and Goyle are throwing a housewarming party, per his mothers request; so, technically this box really shouldn’t be in this room right now. It needs to be prepped for the party.

Goyle walks into the room. “Malfoy wants to know if he should invite Mattheo.”

You shrug. “Tell him to invite him, I don’t think he’ll show up either way.” Getting over Mattheo has not been easy, and when you think about him, his absence still sends several intense stabs through your heart.

You can still feel the ravines where the cracks in your heart formed. If he did show up, it would either put you on the path to healing or destroy you all over again and possibly forever.

You were fully prepared for the latter if it meant seeing him one last time.

But he won’t show, just like he wasn’t there when you really needed him just a few months ago, when some other man’s ring was being slipped onto your finger and you were near powerless to stop it.

Goyle stares at you for minutes, as if you’re fragile and need to be handled gently. “It is short notice.”

You pick the box back up and walk past him, just to stop at the foot of the stairs. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Then, you go upstairs and place the box in the guest bedroom. You have all this space in your new house and absolutely nothing to do with it.

Rooms filled with expectations and soured dreams.

….

Parties should be fun; this cake, considering it’s your favourite flavour, should taste good. You’re surrounded by the faces of your closest friends, all your family— though you aren’t fond of many of them— and all of Goyle’s family. Yet, all you feel is unfulfilled aching for Mattheo.

You feel so pathetic, always thinking about Mattheo, always relating everyone moment to your first love.

But you had wanted him to be your last. Your only. Your everything.

Draco is here, and he’s the one who asked about inviting Mattheo, so you’re pretty sure he’s not coming and you know you absolutely shouldn’t ask.

Instead, you stare at Draco as you eat the tasteless cake, wishing he’d somehow understand what you wanted to know.

Doesn’t help that he’s across the room.

“Y/n, come upstairs for a minute.” Pansy says, dragging you away from the party and into your bedroom. Or what will be your bedroom, anyways.

When the door has shut and she’s locked it, she turns back to you. “You can’t spend the whole party pining over the possibility of Mattheo showing up, Y/n; I know how much he means to you but you have to accept that you’re married and it’s over. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you keep obsessing over this.”

You reel back, though you’re thankful for how bluntly Pansy says it. “I know, Pansy, I know. I just— I don’t know if can ever get over him. I mean…” You trail off trying to find your words. “Goyle was probably the last person out of our group that I would’ve chosen if I couldn’t have Mattheo. Truly, I think I could live if it was Enzo, or Theo, or even Draco, but not Goyle.”

She sighs. “But it’s not them, and it is Goyle.”

“So, what now?” You huff. “I’m just supposed to… I don’t know, keep his house and have his kids?”

Pansy’s eyes soften but she doesn’t respond; its a rhetorical question and there really isn’t any proper answer for it.

Then, there is a knock at the door. Pansy unlocks and opens the door, just enough for her to see who it is.

When she does, she says nothing. You watch her slip out the door before you even see who is behind it.

And then he steps in.

Mattheo Riddle.

“Hello, Y/n.” He says, so plainly as though he hasn’t just affected you in more ways than you could ever possibly count.

You look away. “You actually came.”

He clears his throat. “I did.”

You can almost picture him a few years back, standing in your dorm room door, smiling at you in that teasing way that made you knees weak.

Except he’s not smiling, and there is absolutely nothing blissful about this moment.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Mattheo shuts the door behind him. “If it changes anything at all.”

…..

“There’s something I want to tell you, y/n.” Mattheo says one day, cryptically. “I’m just not sure if I should yet.”

You brush his hair out of his face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, whenever you’re ready.”

He shakes his head, but he’s not disagreeing. “I’m worried you’ll see me differently.”

“There is nothing in the world that could make me see you differently, Mattheo.”

He seems sated by your words, and pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head. The two of you stay like that for a long while before he finally says, “I’ll tell you, but not today.”

You nod silently and focus on the feel of his arms around you, not wanting to take a single moment with him for granted.

…..

“What is it, Mattheo?” You say exhaustedly while you sit down on the mattress. “What could you say that would change anything?”

He takes a deep breath and sits beside you. “I know why this is happening, why Voldemort singled you out.”

You look up at him. “Mattheo…” trailing off, you stare at his sleeve in horror, dreading what you think he’s going to say. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

He furrows his eyebrows, following your gaze; when he realizes, his eyebrows shoot up again. “No! No, That’s not why I know.”

You visibly deflate with relief. He instinctively curls his arm around you but then quickly pulls it away. “Okay,”

He chuckles dryly. “My reason is actually much worse.” Mattheo pauses, blowing out a breath. “I’m his son.”

After a moment's hesitation, you shoot up from your spot, your eyes blown wide with disbelief. “Mattheo, you cannot be serious.”

He stands up, and sits you back down, trying to keep you calm. “It’s not like I want to advertise that my father is the most notorious dark wizard in history.” He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair out of your face, like you used to do to him so many times. “But he didn’t want you with me, Y/n, all of this is happening to you because of me.”

He sinks down to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.

“So,” You start. “I was personally targeted by the dark lord because you couldn’t bother to mention what’s probably a very important detail.”

His fingers tighten around yours. “I was so scared that you wouldn’t love me anymore if I told you, and then, by the time you were engaged, it was too late.”

You push his hands away. “Mattheo, I would have loved you no matter what you told me.” The hurt in your voice makes him back away from you and you can see the pain swirling in his eyes too.

“I told you. You know. Now, we can fix this.”

“No, Mattheo,” You stand up and push him towards the door. “It’s too late. You’re too late.”

He shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, it’s not.” Mattheo tries to stop you from opening the door but ultimately you push him over the threshold. “Please, Love, We can make it work— we could run away, do anything— please.”

You can’t look at him as you speak, while tears flow freely down your cheeks. “We were something, don’t you think so?”

His face falls, and you can see his heart shatter— you can feel your heart mirror his.

Perhaps, though, the most painful part is when he replies; “Yeah, we were.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

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bimoonphases · 17 days

Text

@wolfstarmicrofic May 4 - prompt 4: Marriage of Convenience [word count 759]

“Mais merde à la fin!” Sirius cursed, failing for the third time to properly knot his tie.

“Here, let me help you.”

James got up from the bed and reached for Sirius, his fingers deftly working on the tie, his own already perfect and a white rose in his lapel.

“There you go,” James forced a smile before he sighed. “I really hate this. I’m supposed to help you fix your tie the day of your wedding to the love of your life, not as you get ready to marry a complete stranger.”

“Yeah, well, blame your fellow countrymen for taking this place out of the EU,” Sirius grumbled. “It’s either this or me having to move back to France and I haven’t lived there since I was three.”

Sirius gritted his teeth. After the exit polls things had gone barreling towards the worst for him quite quickly, ending him up in the position he was in that very day, with only those two options, the second of which he refused to consider. His whole life was in London, he wasn’t about to move. So he had to marry someone with a citizenship as soon as possible before the new laws ended up with him being deported. Thankfully, he hadn’t been alone in that. The London queer community had so many people in his same situation that Lily and her girlfriend Pandora had immediately sprung into action, changing the goal of their charity into something that these days resembled a matchmaking scheme. At first they had had the time to set up meetings between people, but as time ran out and laws were made and protests ignored it had all turned into a text with a picture, a name and date, time and location of the wedding. Since he knew her well, Sirius had been privileged enough to get a call from Lily after she had sent him a picture of a guy in a brown velvet jacket, a book in his hands.

“He’s a good friend of mine, Sirius, and he’s truly a wonderful person. He’s very active in the community and teaches at UCL, I’m sure you two will get along.”

He had thanked her but shrugged it all off. It wasn’t as if they needed to like each other to sign a piece of paper. This Remus Lupin had volunteered to help out, they would both walk into the marriage office knowing it was just for convenience.

“It should’ve been me,” James sighed as he slipped another white rose in Sirius’s lapel. “If you have to marry someone to stay in the country it’d be better if it was your best friend.”

“You’re already doing that for Regulus, James.”

“That’s different, Regulus is my boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and he would murder me if I tried to marry you before he could,” Sirius laughed, then he patted James’s arm. “Let’s go, it would be rude to keep my future husband waiting.”

The ride to the registry office was silent, and when they emerged on the steps of the building Sirius immediately scanned the crowd, looking for the man in the picture.

“That must be him,” James said behind him. “By the main door, talking with Lily.”

Sirius looked up and blinked a couple of times. Remus Lupin was very tall, dressed in a navy blue suit, a white rose in his lapel too and a cigarette in hand.

“God Prongs, he’s hot,” he whispered.

“He really is,” James chuckled. “Come on, let’s go to them.”

They walked up the steps and Sirius had the time to detail Remus’s soft-looking hair, his long fingers and the way his white shirt hugged his torso. He almost didn’t greet Lily when they stopped in front of them.

“Your picture really didn’t do you justice,” Remus smiled at him. “And it was one of the hottest pictures I’ve ever seen all the same.”

Sirius felt himself blush as he shook his hand.

“So you’re doing this only because you find me handsome?” he chose to say.

“Anything to send a big fuck you to this government,” Remus shrugged.

“A real Englishman in shining armour then.”

“Fuck that, I’m Welsh.”

Remus put his cigarette in the nearest ashtray and extended his hand.

“Shall we go pledge our love until death do us part then?”

As Sirius walked into the registry, his fingers intertwined with a stranger’s and his heart pounding he decided he would wait until they had both said yes and then he would ask his husband out on a first date.

#of course Sirius swears in French #also no I never got over the 2016 referendum #so this is my way to say fuck you #also Lily and Pandora matchmaking #I might need to write more about that #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius bl #remus lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #james potter #lily evans #marauders #marauders era #modern marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #just writing (like i'm supposed to live)

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lilmashae · 8 months

Text

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:* drabble-ish! — l.hs

cw: suggestive, smut 18+

a/n: imma feel like shit if i don't at least half-ass write this week... i was being a dumbass deciding 24 hrs wasn't enough time on a poll🤦🏽‍♀so gonna leave this here as a peace offering to myself

i'm thinkin' 'bout hee telling you to "open wide," with a big wolfish grin as he thrusts into your tight, sopping cunt — he knows you physically can't, he just likes to tease you.

literally, he thinks it's the best thing ever, heeseung loves it when you get all whiny because he's being unserious and taking too long to give you what you want. when you didn't find it amusing, he'd say something like: " 'tough crowd..." before slamming his hips into you, making you cry out.

like I said earlier, he's probably really unserious but he still makes you feel good either way. he gets really creative too — trying/making up new positions. heeseung'd lay under you with his cock still buried inside of your pussy, your back to his chest as he splayed a hand out on your tummy, thrusting his cock in and out of you. missionary and doggy are also a must! i'm a firm believer that heeseung loves to force your hips back onto his dick, or if he's feeling more taunting he'll let you push yourself back over and over on his leaking tip — but just the tip, just the tip because if you swallow and clench around anymore of him he won't be able to stop himself from snapping his cock wildly, so much to the point he's kissing your cervix.

painfully slow kisses when you two are in missionary before he finally slides in and his brows furrow so perfectly, with his mouth agape in a silent moan. this is where it gets more serious. if he wants (needs) to feel you deeper he'll pick you up mid-plunge and slam you down onto his cock.

overall he's really goofy usually super playful — but it's okay because it's all a part of the fun!

#literally who tf told me a WEEK was right #it was me....#i told myself😐#lil-ma-shae #shae's sit down!☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★⋆˙⟡♡#fanfiction #fem!reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #heeseung smut #black!reader

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vintagexherry · 7 months

Text

Act

YandereDirector!Miguel O'Hara x Actress!Reader

//Dead dove do not eat,Lying in public, Kidnapping, Fake Death, Mild stockholm syndrome, Lyla being a wingwoman, Heavy Abuse, half drowing, Heavy animal abuse, Animal death, implied sexual abuse.

A/N: 2nd winner of the poll, Have this for awhile while I get busy with school and might not upload TFTD soon

---

"She was the kindest person I worked with, she knew what to do and how to do it professionally. We might not have that much time together, but for whatever it's worth, she was truly a unique person..."

Miguel paused for a while, holding back a sob from his throat.

"I wished for Y/N's family and friends my condolences and not to forget my gratitude for bringing up a person like her in this world."

With that, Miguel left the podium with a solemn expression, cameras flashing from left to right. Nosy interviewers pushing up microphones his way, trying to one up each other, hoping their questions will be answered.

That day was grey, gloomy, and depressing. News have found that you have gone missing the past few months and after multiple searches from the government, you were now declared dead.

Some people believe, some don't. Mostly, conspiracies would say that you were still alive, crawling on the ground out of a hole where you were said to be buried alive by some jealous actor. Some would say you got abducted or kidnapped by some crazed fan.

It's still a mystery if either you're dead or alive, disappearing just after your premiere show.

But that's what public only knows.

Miguel enters the backseat of his car on the way to his private mansion in some woods. He let's out a small chuckle.

"Great work out there, big boss"

A woman who seemed to be younger than Miguel sits at the driver's seat, she started the car and drives away, away from cameras, away from people and away from suspecting ears.

"I wIsHed HeR faMiLy mY ConDolOncEs" Lyla mocked as she stopped in the middle of traffic.

"Just drive, Lyla," Miguel huffed, but nonetheless, still happy, he finally got out of that stuffy crowd.

"Whatever you say boss."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

A few minutes passed by, and they finally arrived in a land barricaded by gates and high security cameras and sensors.

The high tall gates opened up to let the car in.

"Were there any distubance with Y/N?" Miguel asks as he leaves the car and goes straight to this house with Lyla closely behind.

"Aside from going to the bathroom and playing with the cat, nothing else seems out of the ordinary."

"...Really?"

"No kicking doors, no attempt to break windows and nothing else. She seems to be adjusting well."

Miguel went silent for a while as they passed by the garden and fountaine, where you and him would (forcefully) walk side by side, that is, until you tried running away.

"That's... Good to hear. Thanks, Lyla."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"How's your day, dear?" Miguel approaced your form, sitting on the bed, petting your beloved cat and looking out the window.

"Alright......How's... Your speech? Lyla told me you had one"

He almost forgot Lyla would tell you things he currently does, but he's thankful she doesn't go to detail.

"It was nothing special. But other than that, I got you a little something."

He held a in a sigh as you merely looked at the bag by his hand.

He took the bag and landed it on the bed beside your form and looked at you patiently.

You hesitated a bit, He can understand why.

He spoiled you lots and lots thanks to his rising director career, but his gifts can vary a lot. To dresses, to jewellery, up to sex toys, and lingerine.

You remember one time you got gifted a lingerine version of your fictional character suit, and you refused to wear it. Next thing you know, you were forced to be naked for three days. Your usual thick blanket got changed into a much thinner one, rendering it almost useless to the cold temperature Miguel set your room in.

You decided to accept his gifts no matter what they are.

You placed the cat next to you while cautiously grabbing the bag as if it could explode any second.

The moment you opened the bag, you let out a breath of relief.

Inside was a box of necklace, with it, come matching earrings.

"Thought it matched your eyes, mi amor."

"...Yo-you shouldn't have."

"You're right. I shouldn't, but I wanted too, anyway.Why don't you try it on?"

Without waiting your answer, he took the box from you and lifted your hair a bit to place the necklace around you. You held back a shiver when the cold material touched your skin.

When you felt the necklace lock, Miguel took a mirror from the vanity and placed it in front of you, making you see yourself.

"Aren't you stunning?" Miguel smiled as he watched the necklace glimmer.

"Y-yes."

"Now, what do we say?"

"Th-thank you."

Miguel smiled wider.

"Very good, you're learning more and more." He kissed your cheek while you fought back the urge to flinch away.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Three months ago

"....And cut! You there! One more mistake im cutting you out of this role." Miguel shouted as people flinched from the volume of his voice and the actor mentioned huffed in annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever" He mumbled.

Miguel sighed, a headache soon to rise.

"Call a break, be back at twenty."

With that, everyone left to go to their own places to take a breather and relax for a bit. You did the same while double-checking your script.

You didn't know how many hours it has been, but the repetitive number of mistakes that your co-actor has been doing has really done an effect on you. You understand that actors alike make mistakes, but he keeps forgetting lines, forgetting actions, and sometimes won't listen to cues and signals.

When being called to audition this role, your heart soar with happiness and excitement. Working under Miguel O'Hara is no joke after all. He was strict yet creative with his movies. The number of awards and recognition he earned shows that.

The movie your acting is an action genre, which you had a bit of difficulty at first, especially with fighting choreography, but you're glad that the team was patient all together

Patience doesn't really last that long thought. You just hope that one co actor would get his bearings right since the movie is almost done and editing and finalizing will be left.

You didn't realize twenty minutes were done until one of the staff started calling everyone back.

Finally, your co actor has gotten it right, and the rest of the production went smooth.

Before you know it, the movie is released,watched, and you were invited to an awarding event.

Everyone was having the time of their life. You were sitting at your designated table along side with Miguel with his assistant.

Lyla is the best person you have ever met, funny with a brush of sarcasm. Although as bit pushy with personal questions and it's still nice to talk to someone light.

While you enjoy your glass of champagne, you watch as the speaker on stage makes their speech for the winning actress of the year award.

"...And for this year award, we would like to dedicate this to none other than Y/N L/N!"

Your eyes widen as cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.

You stood up adjusting your dress a bit and shaking the hand of Miguel as you pass by.

You got up the stage and retrieved your award, made your thank you speech, and bowed.

You guess that after all those cracked backs and sleepless nights of acting, It was all worth it in the end.

----

It was finally time to relax.

People who have worked in the movie have been invited to Miguel's mansion for a nice and soft after-awards celebration and you were invited.

Miguel has won yet again another award for directing another hit.

The invitation was relayed to you by Lyla, and you have been told it would still be held around eleven pm-ish so people would have time to change into a more comfortable clothing and such.

You thanked Lyla for the message and decided to head home to change out of your dress.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"Hey, pal!" Lyla greeted you as she opened the door to the mansion.

"Hey Lyla! Sorry if I got a bit late."

"No worries! Your the first one to arrive."

Lyla stepped aside so you could step in. You thanked her as you entered.

You have never been inside Miguel's domain, and to say your shock was an understatement.

His style is more contemporary with a touch of art deco for a bit of colour.

You were mesmerised with the sparkling chandelier, a huge flat tv screen by the wall, and a fireplace under it.

The walls had linings of gold and white, and some renaissance paintings were plastered here and there to give the space more life.

"Impressed? I swear it could use some plants, but Miguel's too edgy for that." Lyla chimed in behind you, and you held in a chuckle since she isn't wrong.

"Why don't you sit by the fireplace while I fetch Miguel?" she suggests as she leads you further into the living room and sits down, relishing the warm heat of the fire.

Lyla smiles at your relaxed state and headed upstairs where you guess Miguel was.

While you wait, you stare by the fire, and you're surprised you got here first. It's not like you're a tardy person, but by now, you expected at least three or four people here already. Then your thoughts drive to Miguel.

Stunning and successfull is all you could say.

You worked under different directors, yet he stood out for some reason. Maybe the way he leads the group with an iron fist or just the way he acts around you.

Your thoughts were cut off by a voice behind you.

"Y/N, nice to see you accepted my invitation. Sorry if I wasn't there to greet you." Miguel greeted as he approaches you, Lyla no where to be seen.

"Mr. O'Hara, Thank you for inviting me." You stood up from your place and gave him a handshake.

"Please, call me Miguel. We're relaxing as of now, why not enjoy it." Miguel shook your hand back, you held back a wince from his grip.

"Why don't we get started with the champagne, while we wait for the others hm?" Miguel suggests and you accepted.

----

"... And then, I slammed my headphones on the floor, and it broke."

You and Miguel laughed at his statement.

Both of you were drunk without a care in the world. The other guests never came but none of you could care.

Especially you.

You hiccuped a laugh as you try stabilizing yourself on the couch. Your body feels warm due to the champagne and the fireplace. Two bottles of empty champagne are placed on the coffee table in front of you.

You swear you wouldn't drink much, especially in front of your director, not wanting to look unprofessional, but it seems like both of you got lost in stories and laughter.

"Bet *hic* Lyla talked your ass off for it."

"Oh, you bet." He chuckled, remembering Lyla scolding him as if he was a child who broke a vase.

You laughed again. At this point, you don't know what for. Your head feels light and dizzy, and your vision is wobbly.

Miguel seemed to notice your state and tried to hide his smile. For some, you notice he barely looked drunk, kinda put shames into your "high-tolerance." But your mind wanders, and the more you do, the more you felt like to a deep need to sleep.

"It looks like you enjoyed the champangne too much." Miguel mused, small smile grew on his face.

Some hint of clarity went into you.

"O-oh, my apologies, I-um probably drank your stock." You apologized as he chuckles.

"Nonsense bebita, got more than you could count." He stares into your dazed state and continues. "You know what? I'll call Lyla, you seemed to need help after all those glasses hm?"

"O-oh *hic* Dun't wanna tr-trouble you, sir. I'll uh go *hic* go home. " you said as you put down your half empty glass on the coffee table and held onto the couch, stood up albiet wobbly.

Miguel stood up quickly, but you were to drunk to notice anything.

Next thing you know, you collapsed. The floor or his arms? You don't know.

-----

".... And make sure the windows are locked."

"Aye aye cap'n"

Your head hurts, your body feels heavy, and your eyes sting from the light from the windows.

The only things you do is realized a comfy and weighted blanket is placed on you and your on a bed you don't recognize.

Your ears could only hear the muffled voices of a man and woman behind the door.

Your eyes roam where it could, and you notice you're in a fancy looking bedroom on a bed that's too big for one person. The windows have curtains on them, but they were opened, making you hiss from the light.

Your head is still dizzy, and you feel like you want to go back to sleep.

But your situation still needs focusing on.

Did you collapse from all that champagne?

Geez, did you sleep in the house of O'hara? god, you hope he isn't mad for needing to take care of your state.

Some sense are finally going back to you, and you decided to sit up with a groan, making the blanket slid of you.

You froze.

This isn't what you were wearing last night.

I mean, who wears a long, spaghetti strap, lacy white night gown to have a drink with your boss?

You panic. Were you still at Miguel's house?

Your questions were answered when the door opened.

There stood Miguel, his eyes automatically landing on you.

"Good. You're awake."

"S-sir?"

"Still calling me that? I thought I told you to call me Miguel?"

You ignored his words as you sat at the edge of the bed.

"I-uh...I...I don't know what happened sir but I apologize for intruding, Im-" You tried speaking, but your words are slurred, your body and mind still processing itself.

"Intruding? Nonsense." Miguel interuppts you, his eyes roam around the long night gown on you. "Seems like I made the right choice for your night gown." He said as he sits beside you on the bed.

You paused.

Was he the one who put this on you?

Signals blare around your head and you try to sit up.

"Si-sir... If I may, I really need to go." Your body finally listens to you as you stand up and try to head towards the door.

You flinched hard when you felt a strong grip on your wrist, stopping you on your tracks.

"What did I just say about calling me Miguel?" His eyes focused on you and you shivered. You really need to go away.

"Si-Miguel... Please, I really need to go."

You pleaded, but your words were ignored, and all Miguel did was pull you closer to him and further from the door.

Your body is now shooting signals left and right your dizziness long forgotten. You tried wriggling your hands out of his grip with all you could muster, Miguel didn't budge a bit and just pulled you into closer to him.

"Don't make this harder." With that he pulled you closer to him one more time before lifting you up and throwing you harshly on the bed.

Air was knocked out of your lungs no matter how soft the matress could be. Fear is going higher and higher in your body, and you're not hearing signals anymore. An entire warning siren rings in your head to get out of here as fast as you could.

What happened last night?

Did you offend him?

Why did he changed your clothes?

Where's your phone?

You didn't have much to think about when the next thing you know was lips roughly pushing agaist your own.

"Mmh!-"

First you got abducted now your forced to kiss your captor.

Your hands automatically tried to push him away by pushing against his chest, but it was futile. His own hands took your wrists away from his chest and pinned down on each side of your head.

He finally let go, and both of you panted from loss of breath.

"Let me g-!"

Your words once again stopped when he kissed you again. This time, it is less rough yet still demanding control.

"I said don't make this harder."

He said as one of his hands gathered both your wrists to be pinned above your head while the other one slid underneath your nightgown to bunch it up to your hips.

"No no nonono please...Miguel I beg you plea-"

"As much as I love you, I'd appreciate it if you shut up for once."

Your words choked up in your throat, following his orders unwillingly. You didn't even realize tears started streaming down your face, soaking the sheets underneath.

Miguel didn't seem to care.

Instead he smiled.

"Good. Atleast you know how to listen."

You tried gulping, but doing so made you choked up even more.

"Shh shh, just calm down."

Yeah...As if that's easy.

His other hand started tracing the lacy patters of your underwear, which you dreadfully realized that was changed too.

You tried wriggling your hips away from him, but that didn't deter him from ripping your underwear off of you.

You painfully yelp from force.

"Shh... Just relax and enjoy the ride hermosa."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

One Month Later.

Life is getting bad and worse the more you spend your time here.

First, you learned Miguel has been planning this for so long since you got recruited to star in his movie. You don't know what that plan contains, but it must have been a really good one since no one is not even the government could find you.

Second, always as permission and opinions from either Lyla or Miguel. One time the both of them went out to attend a meeting. While they were gone, you decided to take a bath by yourself to get rid of the dirty proof you had with Miguel last night. Time must have passed while you were enjoying your alone time since Miguel burst into the bathroom with a deep scowl on his face.

Next thing you know, you were forced under the water of your bath. Water is going in your nose, and bubbles stinging your eyes. Miguel is ranting something, but you don't hear anything due to your fainting consciousness, but Miguel pulled you up before you could even faint and after a few seconds he dunked you again.

Another time was picking clothes. It was finally nighttime, and you wanted something thicker to wear. You saw a cardigan and decided to wear that while you have your usual long, silk night gown underneath.

Miguel came out of the bathroom and paused when he saw what your wearing.

"Dear... What's that? hm?"

You flinched when you heard his voice.

"O-oh umm... Just a cardigan, wanted to be a bit warmer to-today."

He stayed silent for a while until he slowly started approaching you.

You flinched again, Miguel can be unpredictable. Is he gonna shout?.

You don't have time to think when his hands suddenly grab your arm and pulled you into the balcony of your shared room.

"Migue-"

"Warm, huh? Let's see how warm you can be out here without me."

His voice is calm...Eerily calm. But you know better.

He roughly opened the windowed door to the balcony and roughly pushed you into it.

Before you could even think, you heard the door shut behind you and you froze.

Did... Did he just locked you out of here?

"Miguel! Miguel please! Im sorry!!"

You shouted as you banged against the balcony door. You couldn't see anything since Miguel seemed to slide the curtains shut.

After a few minutes, which felt like an hour to you already, you gave up on getting Miguel's attention.

You even thought of jumping off the balcony, but within that height, you're sure you would only end up trying to get up and run on broken bones. You're sure as hell you wouldn't even go that far.

You didn't know when you slept, but your eyes opened to the sun that's just started to rise and Miguel carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom.

You temperature down to yourself and your complexion lighter than usual, your lips and throat dry, your body feels numb, and your temperature surely isn't normal.

You couldn't speak, but Miguel didn't mind and kissed your forehead as he layed you down on the bed.

The warmth of Miguel's body and everything else sent shivers onto you.

Althought your body is reduced to nothing but a shivering piece of meat.

The next time you woke up again, you found every sweater and cardigan disappeared in your closet. With Lyla mocking your choice of clothing is boring anyway.

Finally, third.

Shut up and give what he has to give.

You swear your heart broke everytime you go back to that memory.

Miguel was quote on quote, "feeling generous" that day.

He had his schedule packed and he felt bad for leaving you, sometimes Lyla would accompany you but being his assistant she needs to attend her duties as one.

So he brought you a cat.

You don't remember what you named it but you surely remember you loved it.

Something to call your own.

Something that makes you happy.

You doted on it, fed it, pet it and played with it. It's purrs and meows help you forget the situation your in.

But Miguel is there to remind you.

Miguel noticed your attention is driven away from him to the cat.

That damn cat.

One time, he locked it in a separate room, so he could have his moment with you.

But you would turn away from him, always wondering where the cat is, and if he doesn't answer to your liking you wouldn't let him touch you, Although it doesn't always work, he's getting tired of your attitude.

Next thing you know, he made you sit down all tied up and watch as he beat the helpless cat into a pulp.

You cried as she roughly kicked it to the wall, again and again. You begged him to stop as you listened to the weak call for help of the cat started to dwindle into nothing.

Its eyes were swollen and body bloody and bruised.

Your eyes drifted to Lyla standing by the doorway, and you silently pleaded for her help but it was useless when all she did was sip some soda and watched the beating as if it's a natural occurence.

Your cried even harder when the cat stopped meowing and all you could see was a unmoving lifeless body of the cat you once cherished.

"Next time I see you acting that all lovey dovey to something useless, I'm beating you up next."

With that he untied you from the chair and you quickly scrambled to the floor to gently cradle the dead animal.

Miguel left you to your self.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Two Months later

You don't know how you're still alive.

Your surprised your internal organs are still working.

Your heart beating.

Your lungs breathing.

Your brain thinking.

Thinking.

Thinking when can you get out.

Miguel practically live in the middle of nowhere, just like those mega-rich people who live in the vast grasslands surrounded by trees and sometimes mountains.

Can you actually get our from here?

Windows?

No.

Hidden cameras surround you more than the paparazzi ever did. They were sometimes annoying, but now you're starting to miss their flashing cameras instead of eerie blinking red dots hidden in drawers or mirrors.

Poisoning him?

No.

Lyla double checks everytime from the ingredients you use to the way you cook them.

Killing yourself?

Not even you have control over your own life anymore.

Miguel practically baby proofed the house for you.

So how...

Maybe never.

All you could do was stare out the window, thinking nothing.

Some drool would slip out of your lips but you didn't care.

You watch the same scenery from the window for the 1000th time. The unchanging grasshills, the migrating birds you would sometimes see and the setting sun and rising moon.

Miguel seemed to deem you unstable. You would cry randomly. You stopped turning away his affection but at what cost?

Maybe he would prefer that instead of you looking out in the middle of no where, thinking nothing.

Your crying outbursts would randomly start, at the shower, in the bed, in the kitchen. You name it.

So maybe going out of the house would help you.

You wordlessly took his hand as he lead you out of the house, watching your reaction or body language the whole time.

It seems he was right. Going outside does help.

Your eyes seem to brighten a fraction.

He didn't even realise he let out a sigh of relief when he watched your eyes look around the massive garden as if it's your first time seeing the color green.

You both roamed around, stopping once or thrice to admire a budding flower or a fluttering butterfly.

Miguel didn't really care for the garden since he didn't have time to roam around and admire what he had already seen for a thousand times already. So maybe it was a bit neglected, bushes are overgrowing and vines seems to spread out more.

He decided that once this little trip is over, he needs to hire a gardener to tend it a bit.

Aside from the view, his enjoying you.

Although he isn't sure which part.

The way your eyes light up more and more as you explored the garden and admiring the fountain.

Or.

The way you didn't let go of his hand the entire time. Maybe he did teach you well after all.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Three months later

It seems like he saved your mental health from declining if he just lets you go out of the house once in a while.

You even learned how to respond to him.

You learned how to touch him.

To hold him.

To love him...

It was all he could ask for.

It took some time for the police to get off his back for the suspicion he has for kidnapping you (which isn't far from the truth)

He even had to make you hide in a secret room in his stupidly big mansion. You didn't know why you had to hide.

But atleast that got the police searching his house finally leave him be after several meetings and interoggations of him.

He finally can live in peace.

You became so good for him he decided to get you another cat.

This time you knew better and he loved you for it.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Months gone by, possibly years, but atleast your finally content-ish with your life.

Not happy but tolerable.

You stopped pushing away and just give into his so-called "love"

Although Miguel might not always be happy with your lack of emotions nowadays , at least he has you by his side then his contented.

Miguel, on the other hand, feels joyous, true he doesn't find your lacklustre attitude too nice, but it's also true he has you with him.

With politicians, accusations and the damn police out of his back, he can finally go back to loving you.

And he can finally drop the act.

●●●●●

A/N: Hope u enjoyed, with this, I will go on a hiatus for while, I am unsure when I can be back since life has been pretty busy. I will also postpone my lastedt series so am sorry for that.

I am still thankful for your endless support.

Have a nice day everyone, ty for understanding

194 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 10 months

Text

System

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: set after insidious the red door so spoilers for that, the readers scared daltons wandered off again

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long love! I’ve been a bit everywhere lately but I was finally happy with this. Also my spell check is being hella weird so if there’s some misspelled things just ignore it lol. I hope you enjoy!

Requested: by anon, hi i literally just got home from the insidious movie with my friend, but i was wondering if you are taking requests, if not feel free to ignore! but i was wondering if you’d be able to do a dalton x reader where they maybe meet his family? and he has an episode during it and gets stuck in the further and reader has to try and coax him out of it? or he has an episode and comes out of it in a panic attack like state and reader helps him through it and his family is in shock that dalton lets her see him like that. they think its really sweet that she can help him through it and everything.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Thanksgiving break. You could fear the cold in the air as people talked lightly going down to their cars, happy to leave school behind for a couple days of rest. Dalton threw his bag over his shoulder, watching you watch the window. The leaves were falling onto the street, whisked away by the gentle wind. You could see people’s silent laughter through the glass.

“You ready?” Dalton’s voice broke you out of your trance. You nodded once, pulling your bag up over your head as well. It just had some clothes and your laptop, plus chargers. You hadn’t been expecting to go back for Thanksgiving with your heavy workload.

“Your dads here?”

“Yeah, pulling up outside.” You turned back to the window like you could locate him. Dalton grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. You followed him outside of his dorm room. He shut and locked it behind him before leading you down the stairs among the stragglers of people leaving for break.

You had never seen the parking lot so crowded.

Dalton put his phone to his ear, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You followed him blindly.

“Near the flag poles isn’t an instruction dad,” Dalton said, voice annoyed. You looked around, trying to place the car. You didn’t actually know what he was driving but you knew Mr.Lambert’s face. “There are a ton of flag polls.” Your eyes scanned the area. “Are you talking about the one with the school flag?” You sat Josh Lambert, standing outside of his car with the door opened. You hit Dalton and pointed. He followed your gaze. Dalton hung up the phone and guided your way through the parking lot.

Mr. Lambert smiled when he saw you both. He pointed beside him, where an American flag was posted between some trees.

“It was the only thing near me,” he explained.

“Don’t worry about it.” You offered your hand to shake.

“You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot.” Josh shook your head.

“Thank you for letting me stay over the break. My family is so far away and getting a plane ticket in this weather has never been good odds.” Josh’s smile was genuine and kind. You had only met him over the phone but Dalton had mostly assured you of his normalcy. After the whole flying away possessed by demon thing, you understood that Josh also had issues with staying in his head. You felt for him.

“Oh of course. Any friend of Dalton’s is a friend of ours.” Josh winced, trying to find the right words. “It’s a pleasure.”

“That’s good dad.” Dalton took your backpack. You smiled gently, trying to let him know you understood what he was trying to give off. “This is gonna be a long drive.”

Josh asked you plenty of questions, happy that someone in his car actually answered him. You didn’t mind chatting. It was a couple hours after all. Before you were there, Dalton couldn’t exactly shut out and put his headphones in. Still, he sat behind you, sketch book out, half listening.

Eventually you came to his and his moms home. It was nice and large, almost secluded but not quite. You didn’t peg Dalton for a large house kind of guy but the second his mom opened the door, it all clicked into place.

Josh had started recently living with Renai again, much to Dalton’s surprise. He didn’t talk about it often, only in passing. You were able to pick up bits and pieces from everyone’s body language but that was about it.

Renai had Josh take your bags.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Lambert for letting me stay,” you said hurridly as she ushered you inside. She smiled, so brightly it hurt. She looked just like Dalton’s pictures of her. Goregous and kind.

“Renai, please. Dalton go take those upstairs.”

“Are we allowed to sleep in the same room?” Dalton asked, teasingly.

“You can sleep in the guest room,” she said, ushering him away. She turned to you. Dalton walked up the stairs, followed closely by his father and your bags. “It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N.”

“And you! I’ve heard so much, seen your face on a lot of different sketches,” you joked. Her smile remained, dripping in generosity but not so much it made you uncomfortable. You felt instantly comfortable in the house.

“I’m sure you’ve become the new muse,” she joked.

“He’s extremely talented. He could make a tree look interesting.”

“Don’t say it to him, it’ll go straight to his head.” Renai would sometimes call you when she was worried about Dalton. After the demon event she grew more worried about having him out of the house. You became her eyes and ears, which she was eternally grateful for.

There was a childlike commotion upstairs. You both turned to see a little girl barreling down, her hand loosely holding the railing. Once she hit the bottom she halted. Dalton was following close behind her and behind him was another teen boy, though younger than Dalton. It was easy to guess the names.

“Oh shit D,” Foster mumbled. Dalton hit him.

“Are you Y/N?” Kali asked. You nodded.

“And you must be Kali! It’s very nice to meet you.” She smiled, ogling. You grew self conscious under everyone's gaze. Dalton pushed through his siblings to get to you.

“Hey, go get your own person to stare at.” He grabbed your hand. “C’mon, I wanna show you my room.”

“No funny business,” Josh said as he came down the stairs. “Keep that door open.”

“He doesn’t bring girls home often,” Renai explained.

“Mom,” Dalton seethed. You laughed as he tugged at your arm. You followed him up the stairs.

“It was nice to meet all of you!” you called, your arm half way out of it’s socket. You observed the place as you walked, glancing at the family photos on the wall. At some point they started to lack Josh completely. “You’re were so cute,” you cooed at one of the photos. “What happened?”

“Woah there.” You laughed as you finally landed upon his room. It was a normal teenage boys bedroom but cleaner. You wondered if Renai had cleaned when Dalton left. There was art supplies still scattered on the desks and some laying on his made bed. Your bags were put off to the side, next to his.

“I see you have no intention of posting up in the guest bedroom?”

“Oh no,” he said. “My mom’s a lightweight and will be in bed by nine.” There was countless pictures on the wall. Some were painted, some where with ink, some with just pencil. It was like a whole other gallery. “I have a couple new ones to add up there.”

“Oh yeah?” You turned back to him. He was grabbing his sketchbook out of his bag. He turned it open to the one he was working on in the car. It was a back view of his dad and you talking. Josh was mid word but you were smiling, watching intently. “Is that why you weren’t talking with us?”

“I don’t like my dads taste in music.” You grinned warmly.

“I love it. Like I love all your stuff.” He carefully went to tear it out and you moved to get some things out of your bag.

You had dinner, courtesy of Renai, and quickly turned in. Dalton made a big show of going to bed in the guest bedroom, rolling his eyes and pretending to pout. You cuddled into his bed, scrolling through your phone as you waited for him to come back. Your eyes drooped. It had been a long day, filled with new things. Dalton’s bed was way more comfortable then the dorm room bed and far bigger too.

At 10 you heard the door open slowly. You turned on your side and smiled sleepily at Dalton walking in. He ran his hands through his hair, shutting the door quietly behind him. He climbed under the sheets beside you. You moved over to make room but the bed was big enough where it almost didn’t matter.

“Bigger than the dorm room bed huh?” he questioned. You usually had to squeeze together. You got very used to being on top of each other.

“Just a lil.”

He dipped his head over you, kissing you gently. Your body eased into his touch. His lips were lazy and sleepy, also fueled by the long day. He moved away after a moment and layed his head down next to you.

“Tease,” you joked.

“My mother is in the next room.”

“No more kisses then.”

He scoffed and the two of you got comfortable, his arm under your head, your cheek against his chest. The window was creaked open, the sound of the suburbs floating into your ears as you drifted off.

You woke up with a start. There was an echo of a noise but you were still half asleep and couldn’t pinpoint it. You sat up, glancing down at Dalton. He laid on his back, eyes shut. You looked around the dark room. You didn’t know it’s curves well enough to know what had changed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to decide if you were still asleep or not.

Through your shadowy perception, you saw the door creak open. It was slow but the movement struck home. You turned to Dalton and nudged him. He didn’t move. You nudged him again, harder this time. He stayed completely still, the only indication he was alive from his breathing.

“Dalton,” you muttered. You shoved him again, almost knocking him off the bed.

Nothing.

Fear shone in the lights of your eyes. You sat up completely and turned on the lamp beside your bed. You took a deep breath. You had done this before. You could do it agian. Dalton and you had talked about what you could do when this happened. He assured you that, while he likely couldn’t get possessed by that same demon, there was no guarentee he couldn’t drift off.

You cleared your throat and set your shoulders back.

“Dalton can you hear me?” Your voice was loud and clear. It needed to project if he was gonna hear you. You took clear breaths in, counting and then releasing. “Dalton, baby, you’ve gone to far.”

You glanced back at the door. Had he left? Was that him coming back in? How long had be been out?

“Dalton, listen to me. Follow my voice.”

With each passing tick of the clock you got more anxious. You wondered if you were too late. Your breathing became more labored as you sat there, starring at his face, begging it to move. “Dalton.”

You knew shaking him did no good but you did it anyway.

Renai could hear your speaking in the other room. Despite what Dalton said, she was also easy to rise. She had gotten into the habit when Kali was a baby, always able to easily identify her childrens voices. She knew it was yours immediately. She nudged Josh, who woke up after a couple pushes.

They listened for a moment, making sure they weren’t going to enter some sort of scene they would never be able to unsee. But then your voice came again.

“Dalton, follow my voice. I’m right here.” Renai knew the script well. It sent shivers down her spine to hear someone else say it. She quickly moved the covers aside and padded down the hallway to Dalton’s open door. She stood in the frame, Josh behind her. You were turned away, looking down, sitting practically on top of Dalton. Your voice, though stressed, was soothing.

“Dalton I’m right here. Come back to me.” Renai was about to jump forward and start helping when Dalton sat up straight. He hit your head with his because he was moving so fast. You both groaned in pain.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, grabbing your cheeks. “Are you okay? Did I bruise you?”

“No, no I’m okay,” you breathed. You let out a hefty sigh of relief. “Are you okay? You scared me!”

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” he promised. “Followed your voice.”

“Everything okay?” Josh asked. You both turned on a dime. You almost fell off the bed with the speed you were trying to get off Dalton. He still had his hand on your cheek and it fell just as quickly as he had put it there.

“Yeah we’re fine.”

“Totally okay!”

Your voices overlapped into a scrambled mess.

“You’re still floating away?” Renai asked. She hadn’t heard anything about that. Josh was still grounded, as far as she knew. Dalton shook his head.

“Not often,” he promised. “I think being back home triggered something.” He rubbed his eyes. “But I’m fine. We have a system.”

“Yeah, just in case. I can usually tell because he starts to move things around when I’m sleeping,” you explained. “The door usually opens.” Renai nodded. She parted her lips, the fear dissipating. You had it handled.

She was impressed.

“Is that why you’re in the same bed then?” she questioned, eyebrow raised. Dalton rolled his eyes but you had the heart to laugh.

“Sure mom.” Her gaze lingered.

“You sure you’re alright? Do I need to quiz you on something?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Dalton promised. “No demons here.”

“None over here either,” Josh promised. Renai scoffed.

“Good to know.” She turned back towards the two of you. “It’s late. Get some sleep and stay in your shoes okay?” Dalton nodded quickly. She left the door wide open as she turned to leave but not after giving you one last look.

“We could’ve used a system,” Josh mumbled.

“Maybe we should get one,” Renai concluded.

You turned back towards Dalton.

“She let you stay.”

“Yeah well, I think that was the astral projecting.” You laughed a bit. You were still reeling from the fear, even though you were trying not to show it.

“Wanna grab a midnight snake or something? Just to shake off the demons?” He smiled, thinking of kissing you in his kitchen, the privacy something he wasn’t used to.

“I would love to.”

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #insidious the red door imagines #dalton lambert imagines

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sapphirelightningbug · 3 months

Text

Under the Starlit Night [Chapter 1: Sweaty Floors and Swivel Chairs]

credit to artcraawl

Summary: Nightwing owns the nightclub that Starfire dances at, they meet at her day job she doesn’t know it’s him but he knows it’s her, when she falls for both of them, drama ensues.

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Warnings: minor suggestive material, creeps, mentions of addiction, minor violence, blood, cigarettes

general masterlist | series masterlist

let me know if you want to be tagged!

The nightclub was dark except for the neon lights that gleamed brightly at Starfire as she danced onstage, her heels pressed deep into the hardwood. Brilliant blues, greens, and yellows danced across her brown skin, her pink hair and glossy green eyes shone a variation of colors as the lights bounced off her. She spun around the matte silver poll gracefully as she subtly looked around the club to look for the owner, a man only known as Nightwing. She looked into the faces of every dark-haired man in the room winking or blowing kisses sparingly until she finally landed on a familiar face, he sat in the back corner of the club watching with a cold gaze, she knew it was a façade, a look he put on for the public. He was a friend, a respectful and nice guy. She stifled a snicker as she saw his fake stern expression.

She blew him a kiss her glossy lips reflecting hues, he smirked, and she continued to dance her elegant movements, appealing to the men watching. This kind of banter between them was usual, they wouldn't call it flirting, of course they wouldn't but it was familiar and they both got a kick out of it.

Soon enough the song was over and it was her turn to mingle with the crowd. As per usual for a Saturday evening, the turnout was decently large which she would be pleased with when she counted her cash at the end of the night. Not that she did it for the money, it was nice of course but she had her day job, well paying, and what she had gone to college for. She was happy to say she was successful and kept her secret evening work under wraps.

Men approached her as she walked off stage she looked for somebody she would be able to get a good sum out of that evening, even though she was very popular for her extraterrestrial features she had a small list of clients one of the men was sitting in his usual chair by the aisle, her heels clicked on the ground as she neared him, "Mr. Harper it's a pleasure to see you tonight, the normal?" She questioned, the man nodded he was simple, he smelt good, and kept himself in line so she never minded providing him with her services.

Still, Nightwing did, he watched as Starfire started her dance with her most loyal regular it was always the same, boring honestly. She looked uninterested but attempted to keep a smile on her face. He watched the older man hold her waist, and Nightwing grimaced.

Star was Nightwing's favorite dancer in his club a sweet girl with eyes like no other and he wasn't even close to complaining about her other assets, she was all in all a beautiful woman, not that he'd say that to her. It would seem too inappropriate, and anyway, she was his friend, someone he cared about as more than just an employee. He watched her move like liquid on the man's lap, he wished it was him, her fuchsia locks were pulled into space buns and he imagined what it would be like to run his fingers through her soft hair. He silently scolded himself for thinking about her in such a way.

She stood up from the man's lap, and he slithered the money into her bra between the fabric and her skin, "Thanks darling, maybe next week you can wear that little pink get-up with the leather boots?" She giggled at him and pushed a curl behind her ear that fell in her face. He knew the exact outfit he was talking about barely any fabric and some pink leather cowboy boots he wasn’t kidding when he said little, she mentally scowled at the idea.

"Why? You don't like this one mister?" He ran his hand down the side of her waist brushing against the neon green body suit she wore. His touch sent a shiver of disgust down her spine. The man’s wrinkly hands are calloused and rough he clearly didn’t know how to handle a woman.

"Matches your eyes, baby, but you look better in pink," she nods before running her slim fingers through his hair and responding.

"I'll consider it," She smiles at the blonde-haired man, "But I better be off see you next week, love!" She strutted off to the back of the club where Dick sat.

"Hey Boss," She rested a hand on his bicep, he looked up at her through his mask, he nodded in her direction. He looked over her curvy body in the body suit she wore and smiled to himself she was gorgeous and he was her superior, nothing could ever happen. He brushed her hand off.

"Anyone causing you any trouble tonight?" She appreciates his caution, she shakes her head.

“Other than you and that scowl?” She giggles, you looked like an upset toddler back here. Dick rolls his eyes behind his mask and slightly shakes his head chiding her.

"You gonna dance anymore tonight?" He asked pressing a piece of gum between his lips, he swore it kept him from smoking but he took notice of his habit getting worse and worse these days, one he picked up from his little brother.

"On stage?" He nods, "No, I'm starting to get tired but I think I made good money just then and I might do a few more dances I see some of my regulars look lonely," She giggles, his jaw clenches, and then relaxes.

"If you need anything call me over," He waves her off, and she walks down the aisle to a blonde-haired man.

"Hey, looking for some company?" A flash of recognition goes over his face, he nods before patting his knee. She sat distributing most of her weight onto her feet instead.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you sweet cheeks, got any exciting news?” He ran his hand over her back and she shook her head. “Hm, really nothing?”

“Nothing too exciting I’ve been missing you though,” she smiled running a hand over the man’s shoulder, he slipped a 20 into her stocking at her thigh.

“Whatever that will do for me,” It wasn’t much but she’d give him a few minutes of her time, she smiled before starting to dance a little for him and she felt his hands start to wander on her body and she began to feel uncomfortable. Starfire looked over to the dark man in the corner where he still sat and her eyes pleaded at him showing her discomfort.

He stiffened before standing up, he looked at her as if asking, “You sure?”, she nodded to confirm, and he waltzed down to her and the man who had gotten all the more handsy.

“Hey man,” Dick placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, but he didn’t budge his hands finding all the wrong places. Dick continued getting progressively irate and he continued to touch her. “So this is my club you know?” The man nodded giving him only a small amount of attention.

“I’ll leave you boys to chat,” she said, attempting to get up from the man, his hand around her waist stopped her.

“Stay dear,” he wasn’t asking he was commanding her. She hated how men thought they could do anything they wanted with her just because she did this line of work. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat, from disgust or nervousness she wasn’t sure which.

“I really should go sir,” she apologized to the blonde man in front of her before prying the man’s arm from around her waist. Her heels clicked on the ground as she walked to the back rooms, she grabbed her robe a fluffy black thing that contrasted her redish-pink tresses. Star wandered into Dick’s office and sat in his comfy rolling chair, she assumed this is where he handled finances and his paperwork. She spun around in the chair the dark room swirling around her.

Nightwing’s office was a little messy, papers strewn across his dark wood desk, and a cup of light creamy coffee sat on a coaster of a cat. The velvety black chair sunk underneath her weight it was padded and he had a colorful knitted blanket sitting over the back of the seat. He had a case of, seemingly locked, drawers on the other side of the room, dark and shiny to fit the rest of his space, honestly it just felt like him.

On the other side of the building, Nightwing was escorting Mark Desmond out of his club. “You’re lucky she’s a lot nicer than I am,” Dick said as he walked him around the building to the alley beside it. “Cause I won’t put up with that kind of shit in my club, those girls should feel safe in their place of work and pieces of trash like you come in and act like you own the place,” his leather clad fist collided with the man’s knocking him down. It felt wrong, but good at the same time because he was protecting someone he cared for. He kicked Mark in the ribs letting the air escape from his lungs as he writhed on the damp dirty ground.

Dick Grayson wasn’t a villain, a cruel man sometimes sure, but he wasn’t evil. So as soon as he began wriggling around to free himself from under Dick’s boot, he let him go, “Don’t show your face around here again,” He trailed off before remembering the last thing he meant to say. “And stay away from Starfire,” he didn’t want her to feel small or timid, but if men wanted to treat her, or very well any one of the other girls, like that they’d have to deal with him.

Dick was walking around to the entrance of his nightclub when he realized he was leaving red bootprints in a trail from the alley. Had he kicked the man that hard? He brushed his shoes off at the door on his black mat, the night air was crisp and cold at he was met with the thick smell of cigarette smoke as he returned to the door.

Starfire was sitting, still swiveling around in Nightwing’s chair when the door flung open and she jumped. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Nightwing, she started to speak and he approached her, she stood up, “Hey Boss I wanted to thank you for taking care of that creep for me, he is usually a kind man I don’t know why he was acting a fool like that.” He stood beside her his body heat admitting a warm aura around the two.

His muscular body felt large compared to her she wasn’t short or thin by any stretch, in fact, she was taller than him with the heels she had on and she was confident in her fat, curvaceous body. Still with his strong torso and arms her soft body felt small, squishy compared to his solid frame. It was almost attractive, but she pushed the thought away as soon as it came, that was her boss it was inappropriate for her to be thinking of him that way.

“I doubt you’ll be seeing much of him anytime soon,” he mumbled and his warm breath hit her face it smelt of that familiar sugary peppermint gum he often chewed around the club. It was always either that or cigarettes, she found it comforting, familiar.

"Thanks, Boss…" she trailed off looking down at her hands that were covered by the comfy black robe. "But you know Nightwing strikes again! You're a really good friend," She giggles that sweet harmonic sound that's music to his ears. He felt his chest heat, which was unusual, the sounds from the club behind them were noisy but muffled through the walls. It was silent for a few seconds, the only noise in the room was their breathing.

Nightwing was the first to break the silence, "You okay though?" She thought about it momentarily, was she okay? She nodded slowly, hesitantly.

"Yeah I'm fine, don't worry it comes with the line of work! You know it shouldn't but it's okay really," She smiles at Nightwing,

“Why do you dance?” He asked not wanting to pry but he was curious.

“It makes me happy, obviously I don’t enjoy the creeps but I get to do what I enjoy and make money off of it,” she smiled at Nightwing, “But I dance here rather than other places, it’s safer, you make it a comfortable area,” she rambled out before stopping herself she didn’t want to sound annoying, she worried she did sometimes.

“I try, I mean it’s the least I could do,” he runs a hand through his dark hair. He looked at his watch it was almost midnight. “You leave at twelve?” He asked it as if it were a question. Still, she felt a pang of happiness when he mentioned her schedule, he’d noticed. Most of the girls left at different times, there were a few that left before her and a few when they closed at 3 a.m. She didn’t know when anyone else left exactly. Still, he remembered hers.

He probably just knew all of the girls' schedules, he was their boss. The moon hung high in the sky outside, she peered through the blinds, light gleaming on Starfire’s bright green eyes.

“Yeah I usually do, it looks pretty clear out,” She turned back to Nightwing he was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He pauses when she looks back at him, he admires her eyes they always look as if they are shining, he wishes to be able to look into them shamelessly, but he can’t. She wasn’t his, those eyes weren’t his to stare at.

Dick perked up and began speaking so as to not appear as awkward. “I can walk you to your car if you’d like?” She agreed with him, trudging to the door before heading over to her bag where she left her extra change of clothes.

“I’m gonna change first okay?” She shouted to him in the other room, she walked over to one of the changing stations and when she closed the door behind her and slid the lock into place she untied her robe and it pooled on the floor as she dropped it.

She stood in the green bodysuit and her heels, yawning and stretching before leaning down to unclasp the strap to her heels slipping them off, and grabbing a pair of slippers from her bag. She rolled her thigh-high socks off which were once covered mostly by her heels, and slid her feet into the soothing pair of UGGs feeling that familiar, uncomfortable strain that comes with taking off heels after a long while. She grasped her hands around the fabric on her torso and slid it off, she yawned once again still she hadn’t realized how much her exhaustion was catching up with her. The neon green fabric hit the floor in a silent skid, she redressed in a lavender baggy shirt with colorful, orange and yellow, bubble letters that say "Space Whore" She didn't know what it meant when she bought it and just thought it was cute. Four years ago when her college roommate, Rachel, told her what it meant she was mortified, now it just seemed fitting, she giggled at the thought of it. She slid some underwear on before pulling up a pair of black shorts that hugged her thick thighs, still above all she was comfortable.

She continued to think back to college and remembered everything that had got her there, she didn’t remember much of her home planet, her brain blocked it out. Still, she was an alien kid forced into the American school system and barely made it out of high school. College was freedom for her, meeting Rachel and her boyfriend Garfield, and becoming their friends was her favorite memory. When she graduated with her degree a close second, she'd felt so proud, she had come so far since she'd come to earth. Graduating with her business degree meant she could have a well-paying job and she didn't have to worry about not being able to afford commodities and necessities. She was satisfied to make something of herself, and have the ability to live comfortably.

Quickly, she was snapped out of her thoughts by Dick in the room next to her, Starfire scooped her clothes and shoes off the floor before forcing it into her pink and orange drawstring bag. She glided the lock on the door open before it swings open and she waltzes out, "Alright let's blast," she shouts out to Dick, and he meets her at the threshold to his office. They walk out of the door that connects the outside to the back rooms. The wind was whipping out in the cool September night. Starfire's red scuffed-up old 2009 Nissan Rouge sat not far outside the door, he walked her over to it before opening her diver's side door and she sat in her comfortably familiar seat.

"Make it home safe alright Star?" She nodded, putting her keys in the ignition and throwing her bag in the passenger seat. The seemingly ancient, horribly beat-up leather of her seat squealed as it lurched.

"Alright, Boss, hope the rest of tonight is uneventful!" she chuckles, Star understood a quiet night was a good night here, she put her fist out for him to bump and she made a small explosion noise. They laughed, and she waved him off as he walked back to the building, undulating with each step.

She backed out of the parking lot and felt a searing pain in her chest, ‘what was that?’ She thought, maybe she was just having heartburn but the way the black-haired man was on her mind told her otherwise. She brushed it off.

#dickkory #starfire x robin #starfire x nightwing #nightwing x starfire #starfire #koriand'r #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #dcu #dc comics #fanfic #batfam #bat family

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fluffyprettykitty · 1 year

Text

‘falsify’

Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1400 words

Warnings: swearing, smoking cigarettes, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penetrative unprotected sex, cum eating, bodily fluids as lube, manipulation, finger sucking, fingerfucking. if i missed anything major pls lmk!

Outline: A little white lie never really hurt nobody. Plus you could only benefit from it.

Author’s Note: based on this request (a thousand months later but it's here!) & this poll, mind the warnings and proceed!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Marc Spector Masterlist

Marc is kneeling down on the floor, his one arm wrapped around your leg, his leather boots dirtying up your wooden floor. You roll your eyes and breathe a sigh of frustration. This was not your scene. Picking up men from the floor and comforting them is not your forte. You were a woman of little words and big actions.

"You don't mean it..." He pleads, his strained eyes meeting up your strict gaze.

"I've meant worse." You shrug and take a drug of your rolled cigarette. You almost feel matriarchal looking down on him, so you decide to be a little nice, you offer him the cigarette.

"C'mon, pretty boy, get up."

He does as you say, taking the cigarette and allowing it to hang loosely off his lips as he is silently heading to your couch. Remorseful, happier even, there's no joy to his walk but you know his heart is skipping a beat. That's the kind of slut he is. Yesterday you were bent over on that couch getting drilled in it like there was no tomorrow.

As for today? That's gonna be the same scene as well, but it'll most likely be the last time.

It's taunting watching him like that. Smoking, with his hair all messed up, his eyes were red from crying and his eyebags hanging off your most depraved dreams. His jeans are dirty because he could never pick a washing machine out of a crowd and the laces of his boots are loose, there is a small peak of his happy trail as he throws his back on the couch, opening his legs. You've seen his cock before you know how big it is, and you know he needs more room than that.

You're thinking to yourself how he's probably not wearing any underwear, how his jacket on the floor smells just like you, and how his fingers come in so close contact with his lips. Dried and washed up. Just like the rest of him.

You really meant to break up with him, being with him get you nowhere but well fucked.

But you need to break his confidence so he could maybe leave you alone.

Just not tonight.

He is taking the last drag of the cigarette and leaving it on the ashtray. He looks delicious. Ready for taking.

"I love you." You murmur and look straight into the center of his eyes. You know that would get the most reaction from him, you know he'd fuck you so well to prove himself to you, to impress you because you love him, because you're a force together, because -whatever romantic bullshit he wants to tell himself.

Oh, you were selfish. But who could blame you?

The speed with which he gets up from the couch the moment he hears your words and pushes you against the wall marks the decision on your mind as great. You will ghost him tomorrow and he'll never ever find you.

He crushes his lips onto yours, teeth crushing against teeth, noses battling each other, his hand gripping your head forcefully, his hand straight on your pants. He wants you, desperately, carnally, forever. He bites down your neck, sucking your skin, his finger getting inside his favorite body part of yours. He pushes the finger inside, thankful for your love of dresses and cotton panties. Easy access, constant fillings.

Your hands are on his hair, always on his hair, loosening them up, getting lost inside those curls and his lips continue, kissing, sucking down your collarbone, down your breasts. Once on your nipples, he goes on full beast mode, pushing your dress down with his nose and sucking on the buds looking for his favorite brand of honey.

You are using him, using his affection on you, his addiction on you for a good time, for a wonderful boost of serotonin.

But who could blame you when he kneels like that holding on to your thighs and looking up at you with the look of the most obedient child, before he buries his head so far deep inside your pussy, your leg on his shoulder, your hands still on his hair that it makes it all worth it.

Your own personal fucktoy and he didn't even know it.

He sucks on your clit so deeply, two fingers already inside your vagina, and he's moaning at the feeling of your cunt, loving the way she just invites him in like the best lover she ever knew. As if he is her commander.

And the way he loves it when he makes you cum twice always right before he fucks you, just by getting in such close contact with your clit that she ends up dormant makes your plan succeed.

He thinks you love him still. He thinks your feelings were fused by your earlier fight, he truly thinks you'd stay.

He pushes his jeans on the floor and of course, there is no underwear to speak of. His cock, hard, leaking, standing stiff against his stomach and you gulp at the sight. And he chuckles. That cocky chuckle of his.

"Think she can fit all of me in, huh? Don't worry darlin', I'll make sure she does."

And he pushes his cockhead inside, always teasingly, always pausing to look at your face, his hand on your chin lifting it up to make sure he's getting that first breath of hot air on his face. Watching your mouth open and your eyes roll. He loved the effect he had on you, he always thought he was in control.

And he pushes more, shoving two fingers inside your mouth as you willingly take them in, sucking them in, as his eyes dark as the night stays on yours. He sees right inside them and he learns nothing, absolutely nothing.

He thrusts. And it's desperate, punishing, dominating, and romantic at the same time. He sees you as a doll, his doll, you see him as your own personal brand of fucktoy. His lips are hanging open as he's making noises himself, whimpers of the "your pussy is a too wet cause of me" type. He loves to hear that sound of his cock swimming inside your juices.

Marc continues for a while, until he pushes his fingers out of his mouth, moving his hand behind your head and crushing his forehead on yours, the other hand on your waist and then he starts. The main show.

He pistols his hips in such a fast and brutal way, slapping sounds filling the narrow room, your moans echoing, as he licks his lips together and fastens the pace, over and over again until he feels like a drilling machine inside you. That man could last, he could last all fucking night, just to give you the most full cumshot you'd ever seen.

So you don't beg him, you don't ask him for it, you know he's gonna do it when he pleases, he's gonna empty his load when he feels you had enough, not mattering if you came on his cock five or seven times, he'd continue until he felt like the time was accurate for you.

Oh but when he did it was so beautiful, he'd slow down a little, losing control of his hips as he went and then he'd stare at your mouth and lick your lips, and then he'd begin to unload, and look down as he'd slowly start pulling his cock away with his right hand, his left on your head pushing you to look down at the way he filled you up.

And he'd chuckle "Can't fucking put it all in, huh? dumb little pussy."

He'd scoff and scoop up the spare with his hand and force you to lick it, his cock getting harder the more desperately you'd eat it.

Until he'd do it all all over again.

On the couch,

on the floor,

on the broken bed,

on the bathroom sink,

in the shower,

on the kitchen table,

against the door,

in the elevator.

And you'd never blame yourself for getting on that plane never to be found again that following morning.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#selenewrites #marc spector x you #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector one shot #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #marc spector fic #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac smut #moon knight

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friendship-ditch · 4 months

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Wild girl - Pt. 1 (Ended)

(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀

Summary: While out in the woods, you see a girl, and then you see her again, and again. She’s not the friendliest of the bunch but you can’t help your fascination with her

Warnings: None! This is an interactive story—the poll at the bottom will be open for a week and will choose the direction of the next part! <3

(If the name says ongoing, voting is still happening btw)

Word Count: 1856

Spring in the Seam often came and went in the blink of an eye, over the span of multiple months. Some days it would be warm enough to take a dip in the small creek in the woods, and others it would be snowing.

Most people took advantage of the warmth and hid away in the cold, and you were no different.

Today was one of the warmer ones.

You had a small to-do list, mostly of errands and a reminder to grab dinner at the Hob. You dressed quickly in light clothing, grabbed your basket, and then headed to the outline of the woods.

Money was hard to come by living as a teenager on your own but you found a few ways to make a quick buck; selling herbs to the town's few medics, harvesting fruit when it was warm enough, and babysitting… but after your last experience, you weren’t sure you planned on doing that again.

The trees rustled with a fresh breeze and the birds sang their morning song. You approached the fence boarding you off from the woods, looked around to make sure nobody was watching–though it was no secret–and then climbed through the broken electric wires.

Around the edge of the forest, the mushy ground was bustling with plants full of green leaves and healing roots. You picked them eagerly, piling them into your basket until the woven edges were overflowing.

Normally you wouldn’t be so greedy but the clouds foretold of a heavy snowstorm coming soon and you didn’t want to waste anything that would die beneath the sheet of white.

As you picked as much as you could, you thought you heard a noise from within the woods. You stiffened and held your breath. The consequences for being caught in the woods by an ill-meaning Peacekeeper were not something you’d ever want to experience.

Finally, in the distance, you saw a shape. Your first thought was a deer but they never came to this part of the woods. Maybe a pheasant?

Curiosity getting the best of you, you quietly followed the noise.

You came to a small clearing where your eyes fell upon the most unexpected thing.

She was tall. Her dark hair was in a quickly thrown together braid. In her hands was a homemade bow, the string hitched to an arrow.

You couldn’t see her face but slowly lowered down behind some brush to watch.

With ease, she let the arrow fly into the head of a small rabbit and killed it on impact. You watched silently, half appalled and half amazed.

The girl removed her arrow from her prey. She wrapped it up in some cloth and then stood.

At the same time, you stood too.

She must’ve heard you because her head whirled towards you. She was gorgeous. Her eyes were a soft gray, almost blue. Her face was gentle, even with the splatter of mud on her cheek. She was a girl of wild beauty. She stood and stared at you for only a second, then turned and scampered away into the woods.

“Wait!” You called softly but your voice got stuck in your throat and the only thing that came out was a squeak. You’d seen her before but couldn’t remember her name.

What did it matter? This girl was gone.

After recovering from your surprise encounter, collecting herbs and roots, you checked your secret little orchard for bearings of fruits but returned empty handed. It was probably too early but worth checking anyway.

The Hob was your next stop.

The market seemed even more crowded than usual. Everyone was hoping to buy some smuggled seeds while they were cheap, or get a quick and easy dinner of whatever kind of illegal meat one of the hunters brought in from the woods. It was loud and overwhelming.

You stuck to the outside of the place, eyes narrowed and flicking from person to person, stand to stand.

When you eventually made your way to your usual medic stand, you set down most of your herbs on the table. “These are fresh, no rot.” You said. Usually you were the first there and got a few extra coins but today you had to wait in line, the worth would’ve gone down.

The young man working the table studied your plants for a moment and then nodded. He never spoke to you although you saw him quite often. To you, he was ‘herb guy,’ and to him… who knows what you were.

He gave you a hefty bunch of coins with a small smile that you returned with ease. You had a feeling you were one of his favorites.

As you were turning to leave, somebody ran right into your shoulder. You nearly tumbled over from the force and let out a grunt.

“Hey!” You exclaimed once you studied yourself. You brushed your shirt off, looking around for who caused the collision.

She grunted softly and jumped back in surprise. Her eyebrows were firm and straight and so were her lips, eyes wide, then they darkened as if a look of recognition came over them.

It was the same girl from before.

You stood, staring at her speechless. You were making a fool of yourself and you knew it.

She seemed to notice it too and huffed. “Watch where you’re going.” She muttered, as if blaming you for the collision. Then she stalked off into the crowd, the rabbit now being replaced with a loaf of bread.

You remembered her name the second she vanished.

Katniss Everdeen.

The two of you had never… formally met, but you knew of her as… hopefully she did you? You had most of your classes together growing up and once dreamed of being her friend but she shut down the opportunities before they even presented themselves.

You hardly saw her around as often once her father died, assuming she focused more on her family than anything else.

Speaking of her family… you were supposed to meet her younger sister Primrose to trade some herbs for some cheese! She left earlier than the others did in the Hob so you’d have to hurry if you wanted to catch her.

You looked for the last time at where Katniss had been standing though the spot was now empty. You felt a little angry that she’d nearly mauled you over and you almost wanted to find her just to scold her but you knew it was best to let it go. You turned and made a dash for the other side of the hob.

Prim’s stand was empty when you got to it. She must’ve left by now, a few crumbs of cheese still on the table.

You left the Hob and decided since the Everdeen’s lived quite close to you, you could just… go over?

When you knocked on the door, you were half expecting to receive no response, but the door cracked open, then opened the rest of the way.

Primrose looked up at you with a surprised smile.

“Y/n?” She tilted her head with childlike confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you at the Hob, and I figured you and your mother would want to have these.” You pulled the remaining bundles of herbs out of your basket and held them out to her.

Prim’s eyes lit up with shocked joy. She took the herbs gingerly and grinned at you. “Thank you! I have your cheese still, just wait right here.” Then she darted off into the house.

You stood on the small, old porch and looked around. The wood was creaky and rotting in a few places. There was a small chair on the porch and–

Clank.

You spun around on your heels, startled by the sound. You slowly lifted your gaze from some dirty boots, up a body, and then to a face; Katniss’s face. And she did not look pleased.

“Are you following me?” Her voice was calm but cold, just as her eyes. She was holding the loaf of bread tucked under her arm and had also picked up some fruit.

You hesitated. This did look… suspicious.

“Actually, I think you’re following me.” You responded, trying to one up her. You were still a little pissed at how she bowled you over earlier.

Her nostrils flared and she stepped up onto the porch. Now beside you, you could tell she was definitely a few inches taller, not to mention stronger. You took a hesitant step back as her eyebrows furrowed into a glare.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

Just then, your savior, Primrose, returned with some cheese wrapped in a dainty cloth. She smiled up at you and handed you the cheese in exchange for your herbs.

Katniss eyed the exchange with suspicion, though she said nothing.

“Thank you, Prim.” You thanked the young girl and placed the cheese into your basket. She returned your thanks and then you left, eager to get out of Katniss’s piercing view that followed you until there was a house between the two of you.

Your home was quiet yet cozy when you returned, the last remnants of frost melting off your windows and a stack of wood sat by the fireplace. You dropped off your purchases on the counter and tried to focus on dinner, but something–no, someone else was on your mind.

In fact, she was on your mind so long that you dreamt about her, not that you’d ever admit it. This girl was… prickly, reserved, and clearly wanted nothing to do with you, but you couldn’t shake those cold gray eyes and the idea that maybe you could help warm them up. She was fascinating and you wanted to know more.

The next day, when you returned to the woods to squeeze out the last bit of money you could get from selling herbs, you weren’t sure if you were lucky or had the worst luck in the world as she was there once again.

Katniss stood further in the woods on the trail of a deer. Her hair was in a braid again and she’d traded out her leather jacket for a lighter, worn wool one.

She stalked the deer without knowing of your presence. She stood still for only a second, and then began to follow her unaware prey away from you.

You stood still, watching her. Your mind told you to ignore her, to finish what you came out here to do and maybe get an early bonus for selling herbs so early. Plus, if you were lucky, you could run into her at the Hob and maybe strike a conversation there…

…but your heart was practically climbing out of your chest to follow her itself. Maybe she’d be more willing to talk to you in the woods, maybe you could even help her hunt. Maybe you were wandering off into dreamland a little too far but there was nothing wrong with a little bit of hope.

You looked up again and Katniss was already beginning to follow the deer. You’d have to decide fast…

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

#guys I’m so excited for this you wouldn’t believe it #make sure to vote! yall control this story #the hunger games #catching fire #the mockingjay #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen x fem!reader #katniss everdeen x you #x reader #interactive story

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Rosemary Clooney (White Christmas)—Rosemary!!! Her singing voice is incredible, she looks stunning in everything she wears, she has this quiet gravitas on screen that I haven’t seen anywhere else!! She deserves to be known as a lot more than George Clooney’s Aunt (if anything, I think of him as Rosemary Clooney’s nephew who also went into the business). Also when she got older she had this amazing sexy raspy voice (which sadly was due to smoking a lot but doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s very very sexy)

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anna Magnani:

An icon of post-war neorealist italian cinema - an unbelievably good actress. Also, the first non-english speaking actress to win the Oscar for Best Actress (in 1956)!

Rosemary:

Rosemary Clooney made very few movies, and built her career mostly as a singer--however, anyone who has ever seen her in White Christmas understands that this was Hollywood's loss, because she exudes glamour and charm and does a wonderful job acting it as well. She's gorgeous, she has a beautiful voice, she has one of those faces that the screen just loves, and she is, frankly, hot as hell.

An absolutely amazing singer and so stunning. Her performance in that black dress in White Christmas just takes my breath away every time. She's also George Clooney's aunt.

She was a very cool woman, who had a very hard life. She had severe mental health struggles throughout her life and left the stage for quite a while, but fought hard to make her career comeback later in life with a little timely help from good friend and frequent collaborator Bing Crosby. She also duetted with Marlene Dietrich early in her career

youtube

Okay so obviously she's more a singer than an actress, but she was still one of the best musical actresses of the era! They just didn't know what to do with her. She really wasn't a dancer at all, so you'll see most of the numbers in White Christmas she's got a convenient prop to sweep around. However, this ~weakness brought about a love story for the ages! Dante Di Paulo (you may know him as the mustachioed townie rival to the Pontipees in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers) was hired to teach her to dance and they fell in love over rehearsals. Separated by filming schedules, Rosemary ended up marrying José Ferrer and breaking Dante's heart, but 20 years and two divorces from José later they met in traffic. Not about to miss her second chance, she honked her horn and yelled her phone number at him (talk about carpe diem). He moved in a couple of months later but they finally made it official in 1997 because "our grandchildren want us to get married". They were utterly devoted to each other and he was very much a Wife Guy.

when she. when she. 'love you didnt do right by me' from white christmas-

She was very funny and very civic-minded, she campaigned with RFK during his presidential run. She had a very close bond with her nephew (that George Clooney yes), he even had her songs on the playlist when he proposed to his wife! She didn't enjoy singing this song from White Christmas, as it wasn't quite in her range, but she's incredibly powerful and undoubtedly very hot in this scene (fun fact, oscar winner George Chakiris is one of her dancers here, before his big break!) -

youtube

#rosemary clooney #anna magnani #fuck that old woman #hotvintagepoll #ladies 2 #Youtube

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joelswritingmistress · 6 months

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Last Halloween: Chapter 20

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

You knew it was going to be a challenge, but the plan you had in mind to fight for Joel's integrity and expose the Champagne family was something you had to carry out.

Across from the coffee shop on the quaint little street was the annual Mischief Night Movie Marathon on the town green, drive-in movie style with a giant blow up screen. To discourage kids from throwing eggs and soaping windows the night before Halloween, the town had created an event that seemed to draw in bigger crowds every year. People brought blankets and lawn chairs. Prior to the start of the movie there was a pumpkin carving contest and all of the jack-o-lanterns were lined along a stone wall that bordered the green.

From five to seven o'clock there was a tiny tots hour and the movie Monsters Inc was played for all the young kids. From seven o'clock until eleven, two horror movies played for older crowds that were picked by the townspeople through social media polls in September. The chosen movies for that evening were Trick 'R Treat and Halloween II.

You sent a group text to Jess, Winnie and Chrissy filling them in about what had happened, and they agreed to meet you down in front of the coffee shop.

For the time being you laid low with a beanie hat pulled down over your ears and a hood over that. To your knowledge, Vic and the other assailants had yet to be tracked down; and so you tried your best to go a little incognito.

The carefree nature of the kids' hour across the street made you smile. Moms and dads helped lift giant pumpkins with goofy faces onto the stone wall as kids jumped for joy in their costumes. The gathering was great for the community and you envisioned, just for a second, that one day you might be one of those moms with a little one of your own.

"Hey!" Chrissy was the first to run up to you and made you stumble back with the fierceness of her hug. "Are you okay?"

You knew she'd understand. She had been the only one you hadn't talked to directly about you and Joel.

"Yeah," you half-lied, but you weren't about to say no, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Chrissy pulled back, still holding you by your arms and looked you in the eyes. "I am so sorry I said what I said about Joel that night we all talked. I had no idea.." She shook her head and pulled you back in for a hug. "Is he okay?"

"He's still in the hospital but he's going to be okay," you told her.

"This is so scary." Chrissy still held you firmly in place. "I am so so sorry you had to go through all that."

"It's okay," you assured her.

Your other two roommates joined you by the coffee shop and you all exchanged similar words.

"So, what's the plan?" Jessie asked. "We want to help."

"Thank you, guys." You let out a deep breath. "I'm just waiting on one more crucial piece to the puzzle." You reached into your pocket and removed your phone to check the time.

"What piece?" Winnie asked.

"I had to rely on.. someone else."

They all looked at one another, wondering if anyone knew who or what you were referring to.

"Steve."

"Steve?" Chrissy asked, her eyes bugging. "Like Steve, Steve?"

You nodded. "It was a last resort but he has the in's that nobody else does. And believe it or not, I think he's true to that badge enough to make this happen."

"I thought you said he was a jerk."

"He is.. kind of," you said, "Or maybe that was me just being annoyed by all of his quirks." You shrugged. "We weren't exactly a love match, but I think deep down he's a good person."

I hope, you thought silently, checking the time again.

Monster's Inc. was wrapping up and the line of jack-o-lanterns stretched nearly the entire length of the wall, each with their own faux candle that left a series of orange glows. You needed the video before the start of Trick 'R Treat. Based on the schedule, you knew that left you about twenty minutes.

"What exactly *is* the plan?" Jessie asked.

You took a deep breath, sending a little cloud of smoke into the air. "Steve is getting me the footage from a security camera that shows what really happened last Halloween. It shows the truth, no ifs, ands or buts.. no gossip. Joel was attacked by Johnny when he was attempting to change his flat tire. Johnny choked him out with a chain and in the struggle of Joel fighting for his life, the two of them fell down a little embankment and Johnny broke his neck. The surveillance video shows all of that, and that's why Joel was charged with nothing."

Your three friends stood them staring at you as if they were watching a suspenseful movie unfold.

"There's footage?" Chrissy asked, her mouth hanging open.

"Yes." You nodded. "And tonight, when ninety percent of the town is here, I'm going to show them."

"Holy fuck," Chrissy said. A smile spread across her face. "That's insane."

"How are you going to do that?" Winnie asked.

You glanced over her shoulder toward Steve, who looked nervous as hell, as he wandered toward you, glancing around in all directions.

Relief filtered through your body. He came through. Your plan was going to work - you thought.

The girls followed your gaze and when Steve got wind that you were all staring at him, he puffed his chest a big and pretended to be paying attention to the Halloween gathering across the street.

"Steve." You gave a wave. His hand looked tight and ridged as he waved back. His face matched his posture.

"Hi, Steve." Chrissy gave a small smile and he nodded once at her before staring directly at you.

"They have a computer that's attached to the projection here," Steve informed you. He reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small, black disc drive. "The department transferred the footage onto multiple drives. This one should work on any computer. It's just an HDMI."

When he placed the disc into your palm you looked at it for a long moment before finally closing your fingertips over the top of it.

You let out a deep breath knowing the magnitude of what was about to happen. "You think you can distract them enough for me to swap this out before they start the next movie?" Your eyes scanned the small team you had standing in front of you.

"We'll do whatever you need," Jessie said with a nod. The girls all nodded and Steve let out a sigh.

"You do know what's on the line for me, right?"

"Yes," you said directly to him. "And I promise you, you won't regret helping an innocent man get the justice he deserves. This town needs to know the truth." You added, "I'll never tell anyone you got me this. No one would believe you would anyway, with our history."

There was a long silence as everyone contemplated what their role could be, before Steve finally said, "I'll distract them at the podium," then added. "And you do what you gotta do."

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 21

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee @shayna-d-clown @bbiophiliaa

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