Neapolitan 1

by evilgrin on 10 Jan 2006, 00:54
Author: EVILGRIN

Title: NEAPOLITAN

Pairing: Riddick/Ava Black

Fandom: PB

Rating: big surprise, an NC17 story, for sex, and violence,warning for blood play

Disclaimer:shamelessly pirated Riddick, Ava, well, she’s mine, alllll mine, right down to her dark little heart, the song Neapolitan is by Canadian band Sonic Bloom, and I hope they don’t sue my ass off, but I loved it from the first moment I heard it. Hope that’s enough sucking up, because I’m not really any good at it.

summary: more tales of our demented unlikely couple, the strangest damned love story you’ll ever read…..

note:As with other Riddick/Ava pairings, for conversations/interactions between Riddick and Ava, italics are Riddick conversations/thoughts.
Archive: fdb,vx

Feedback:In this thread only please. No shreds; I write for fun only
Copyright ©2005-2006xxxevilgrinxxx

When the waitress walked by she must have
Caught his eye and at that moment he was mine
A little slight of hand
And I had poisoned his bowl of neopolitan
What else can I say, man
Enjoy your ice cream
Murder is such an ugly word
Use another if you so prefer
Me, I like to call it art
Art is its own reward
~~SONIC BLOOM, “Neapolitan”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
::NEAPOLITAN::
::A RIDDICK LOVES AVA STORY::
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
::ONE::

The beer’s not bad. Cold. Trying not to drink too fast. Need to keep my head clear. Play with the ring of condensation on the scarred wooden table. Should have just poured it in the glass, but even I don’t want to drink out of it. Nothing’s been clean in here for years.

Holding a longneck makes me want to be holding something else, a little warmer. Try to ignore the twitch. Pay attention to what I’m doing. But she makes it so fucking hard.

I’ve been watching her for hours now. Sitting in this bar, in the dark, just waiting, and watching. It’s dark enough that I could do without the goggles, but I don’t dare.

The place is a damned dive, and coming from me, that’s saying something. An out of the way place. A place where deals are made, and you meet people you’d never want to meet in decent places. But decency isn’t what I’m here for.

Don’t know when this particular meeting will happen. Just have a grainy picture to work with. I’d like to have more, but some things just scream out for being done. I just know that it will be here, tonight. Just know that I have to wait.

The music’s loud enough to drown out almost everything. People still hunch over their tables, talking quietly, to keep anyone from hearing. A lot of drinking to settle nerves. Shots in dirty glasses, before the handshakes, and leaving by the side doors. Spotted a couple of mercs already, but I have other fish to fry right now.

I’m supposed to be watching the doors. From where I sit I can cover the swinging doors in the front, and the door at the side, by the bathrooms. I’m supposed to be watching them.

All I can see is her. Tiny little pink skirt, so short you can see the very bottom of her ass, just barely. A slit up the front, over a thigh, as if it needed to show any more. White, almost see-through shirt, what there is of it, so tight it pushes her breasts up in the front. Her lipstick the same bright pink as her nails. Doesn’t normally do it for me. Maybe it’s just her. Everything about her screams sex.

She’s bending over, taking an order, her strong legs impossibly long, the heels making the curves stand out even more. Her breasts close enough for him to touch. Just the hint of a black thong, before she stands up again. Hips swaying as she walks back to the bar for the drinks. The bartender talks to her breasts for a while, before sending her back with a trayful.

He makes a grab for her, as she’s putting the drinks down. A dirty hand on her ass. A girlish laugh, as she smacks his hand, swaying to the next table to help someone else. Had to put the beer down, before I crushed the bottle in my hand.

Watch her as she serves a few more tables. Any notion of controlling my raging hard on is lost. I can’t watch anymore. I was kidding myself to think that I could sit through this. I thought I could handle it. I can’t.

She looks up at me, her mouth a perfect pout, her lips pink and wet. Turns on a heel, her hips swinging, up to the bar. Walking towards me. Impossibly slow, all I can hear is the blood in my ears. The music dulled to a low buzz in the background. I try to just watch her feet, but the arch in her heels make me want to keep looking up. Dark shadow at the top of her thigh, making my mouth water in spite of myself. The top of her thigh nudging the slit in the front of her skirt open, and closed, with every step. Look up past her bare belly, her nipples hard through the fabric. No one else in the room but her. Remember to breathe.

She bends over, to put the beer in front of me, leaning close enough that I can feel the soft heat coming off of her. Her breast touches my arm, I swear she’s doing it on purpose. I’m supposed to say thanks. Can’t get past the lump in my throat. It’s hard to breathe.

One perfect pink nail runs along my jaw, making me shudder. My hand slips up to her thigh, just under the edge of her impossibly small skirt. Her lips just touch my ear. Her voice a sultry whisper. A sound a man would kill for.

“Don’t forget why we’re here, beloved.”

Ava. My beautiful, deadly Ava.

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