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shootingstarwritings · 6 months ago

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A Beta makes, an Alpha takes

TW: homophobic slurs

Eduardo Garcia was a content creator who, like many others in his field, lived in the SolCal area. He was a self-described ladies man and an amateur pick-up artist. Most of his videos and livestreams focused on giving life advice for men. That night was the same as it always was, with Ed saying his catchphrase, “A beta makes, an alpha takes,” to his impressionable audience.

Once the stream ended and he counted his donations, Ed made his way to the bar. It didn’t take long for him to find another girl to screw. His type was always the same: eager young women new to town and looking for something deep and steady.

After a long and sensual session, the girl whose name he forgot asked if what Ed wanted for breakfast that morning. She had wanted to cuddle, but Ed’s protests kept her at bay. Ed pretended to think for a while before saying, “I’ll treat ya. It’ll be a surprise,” before kissing her.

Around five the following morning, Ed snuck out of her apartment having lost zero winks of sleep that night. ‘Not my fault there’s so many suckers in this town,’ he thought to himself, grinning the whole way back to his apartment. ‘They wouldn’t fall for fellas like me if they had a lick of common sense. I just do what I do. If they don’t wise up then it’s on them.’

That morning should’ve been like all the other ones for Ed. He was in a fantastic mood to grab a quick bite and then spend some time in the gym after scoring as hard as he did the night before. However, just as he reached the floor his apartment was on, he caught sight of his neighbor standing unusually still.

Carlos was exactly everything that Ed hated about the SolCal area. They were in the same field as influencers, but Carlos focused more on “Affirmations of the self,” and “Queer rights,” and other stuff Ed had long-since forgotten about. Carlos had gone to great detail to explain, but Ed had mostly tuned out whatever didn’t relate to Carlos’ follower count or the cash he was making. Knowing the two would never get along, Ed preferred to avoid Carlos altogether, even if he did secretly wish the two would collab so that Ed’s follower count would grow.

Yet, on that morning, Ed couldn’t take his eyes off of Carlos. He stood in front of his apartment door, staring blankly ahead. A few moments passed, but the man didn’t even blink. Ed knew he should just leave him along and mind his own business, but a nosy part of him urged him forward.

“Hey man,” Ed called out, “You okay? You’ve been standing there for like an hour or something.”

Carlos’ head immediately snapped towards the direction of Ed’s voice, causing the latter to nearly jump out of his skin. “I was unable to court another female,” said Carlos in a stilted, unnatural tone. “I was reviewing what I did wrong. Forgive the intrusion.”

‘Court another female. So the fag’s trying to get with chicks, now?’ thought Ed before being struck by a genius business idea. “Good on ya, man!” Any prior concerns about Carlos’ odd behavior were discarded to the wind as Ed wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Good to see ya swinging for the right team. ‘bout time you dropped all that fag shit,” he said, pointing a thumb to the pride flag hanging on Carlos’ door.

“Fag shit…?” echoed Carlos, but he didn’t offer any resistance as he was guided to Ed’s apartment.

“You came to the right place, my friend. Nobody knows how to pick up the ladies quite like this lady-killer.”

“You kill them?”

“Ha-ha! Aw, ya crack me up, big guy. C’mon, I’ll give ya a few pointers.” For Ed, giving Carlos several of his lessons and even showing him the streaming setup was an investment. He was gaining much money from doing this, but all he needed was to win Carlos’ trust over and he’d be swimming in new subs and a brand new market to sell. There just had to be guys who played for both teams on Carlos’ faggy audience, he assured himself.

After about half an hour of coaching, Carlos repeated Ed’s lessons like a college student cramming for a final. “A beta makes, an alpha takes.” For whatever reason Carlos seemed particularly fond of that phrase.

“We’re the men. The providers! That’s why we gotta remind this pussified society who’s really in charge. The alphas,” said Ed, flexing his bicep to punctuate his point. His body was one of the few things he had worked honestly for. Steroids and diets were a frequent topics in his online rants. To Ed, if one couldn’t get a body like his naturally, then they couldn’t call themselves a real man.

“And this has worked to acquire mates?”

“Mates? Bro, I’m swimming in pussy. And soon you will too,” said Ed. He lightly tapped Carlos’ chest. “With a bod like this? It’ll be even easier. Stick with me and I’ll get you laid. Just, uh, don’t forget ‘bout that collab I mentioned.”

Carlos, after what seemed like an eternity of stone-cold stoicism, finally cracked a smile. “Yes, I would love to collaborate with you.”

“Awesome! Lemme get something to celebrate.” It was still early in the morning, but it was always five o’clock somewhere, right? Ed made hi way over to his fridge and pulled some of the quality beer. The cheap stuff was reserved for those rare moments he had a girl over. “We gotta celebrate this new friendship of ours, my man. I got--!”

Carlos tackled Ed as he walked back to the living room. The two crashed onto one of his couches in a mess of struggling limbs. “Yo, what the fuck, man?!” cried Ed. He tried to push Carlos off, but froze as he saw Carlos’ body convulsing and his eyes rolling up, showing the whites. Seizure? Stroke?

Before Ed could reach for his phone in his pocket, Carlos leaned forward and locked lips with him. As soon as the two made contact, a slimy creature flowed from Carlos’ mouth into Ed. Once the substance made contact with Ed, his body began unresponsive. He tried to struggle and push Carlos off of him, but his arms remained heavy and limp. More and more of the slime pumped into Ed until Carlos’ body, unconscious yet still convulsing rolled off of the couch.

Ed couldn’t move but he could still feel a chilling sensation spread throughout his body, filling him up. The slime crawled down his throat and began to expand inside of him. Most of it traveled down his esophagus and began to assimilate his core, arms, legs, and toes. Each limb seized and shook as it became corrupted by the invader.

Ed tried to scream as it fell the creature fill his head and coating his brain, yet he could do nothing but endure the sickening yet pleasurable feeling. It was filling him up, and for whatever reason, Ed couldn’t help but enjoy the way the creature dominated him. His body, still unresponsive to his pleas for help, merely humped the air and sensually moan as it was taken over.

Eventually, Ed blacked out. The last thing he perceived was his hands touching his face and his own laughter.

~~~

‘Please, give me my body back,’ whined Ed.

“Give it a rest, Ed,” the creature possessing Ed said, grinning to himself. “Thank you for providing this impressive specimen, by the way. I quite enjoyed the takeover.” He tilted his head as he read the magazine. “Hmm, you are well-endowed, indeed. Perfect for my mission.”

A few days had passed since the creature slithered into Ed’s body. Ed had woken up to see his body piloted by some kind of foreign invader. Despite Ed’s pleads, it refused to give up control, saying, “I’ve been needing a strong and virile specimen to breed and spread.”

‘You can’t fucking do this to me! It’s not right,’ Ed begged from the recesses of his own mind. ‘I’m a human being. I don’t deserve this!’

“Your mind is intact, is that not enough for you?” the creature said as he jerked Ed’s cock in the couch. “You could have ended up like my previous experiment. Right, Carlos?”

“Right you are, my alpha,” said the thing inside of Carlos. Ed tried to look away from Carlos’ naked and puppeted body, but the creature didn’t have the decency to give him that.

Carlos was not the creature’s first victim, but it was the first that didn’t suffer massive brain damage from the creature’s invasive efforts. However, the creature still hadn’t quite managed to access Carlos’ memories and personality. It had managed to figure out the basics and just needed one more attempt to do a proper possession. Ed was the creature’s first success, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“What else do you wish, my master?” said Carlos as he eagerly marched over to Ed, swaying his hips and sticking his ass out as he spoke. “Do you want to breed me once more? Fill me up with more of your spawn so I may go and spread?”

While Carlos hadn’t suffered brain damage, but the trauma of the invasion caused him to become catatonic. To remedy this, Carlos was the first one to received the creature’s spawn. The creature, riding high thanks to Ed’s disgust at the homosexual act, fucked Carlos’ body and let one of its children pilot the still-living husk.

“Please, act a bit more like your host would. Keep reviewing the videos.” Ed mentally screamed to himself as his invader forced him to say that. Even if the creatures had little idea as to how to blend in society, the sheer amount of content that Carlos and he made would guarantee that they had plenty of references for impersonating them. “Later, I’ll pump you full. I just… need to explore this body of mine a bit more.”

Carlos cleared his throat before giving a sweet, nonchalant smile. “No prob, my man. Later we should go out, though. Get familiar with the area.” He winked and said, “Later,” just as Carlos always did.

‘Please, let me go,’ Ed tried once more. The idea of the creature doing this to his friends and family, acting like him the whole time, was a hell he couldn’t bear. ‘I-I’ll even hook you up with another better. Better bodies, just please let me go…’ Ed internally sobbed.

“You’re quite pathetic,” the creature sneered as it violated Ed’s body once more. “Where’s your bravado, Eddie~? You were swimming in pussy just a few days ago. Now you’re pounding men and craving cock.” Ed’s body let out a malicious laugh as ropes of cum erupted from his stolen dick. “It’s like you always said. A beta makes, an alpha takes.”

#male possession #male body possession #slime possession #gay male possession #gay possession #gay story #gay fiction

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pricegouge · 6 months ago

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Fatted Rabbit Part Ten on AO3

Contents

bearshifter!price x reader | explicit

John's not sure if he has ever in his life felt so impotent. The fact that it's some human man potentially states away that has him so twisted only serves to further his downward spiral, causing him to forget to even feed himself for whole days, which only darkens his mood. He starts lashing out at the new employees, would feel like a right arse about it if he were capable of anything other than frustration and the general itchiness of another bull encroaching on his area.

Explicit sexual content ahead. If you didn't sign up for the following, go ahead and skip from "---" to the next "---"

cw: oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, and squirting. Also, allusions to past SA (bunny get's a little freaked out about being touched at one point but they figure it out quick)

Would that it were. If he could just sniff Phil out and gore him, sift through viscera and fat to find the rich, dark tissue of his vital bits, he'd have done this by now. But John has no scent. Doesn't even have a last name. Can't even ask for one without good reason, which he's in short supply of this week. He's tetchy and twitchy, barely listening to the trainee's questions before snapping incorrect answers at them. He only realizes his mistakes much later, when the senior staff returns to demand things like, 'since when?' and, 'fucking, why?' He steps out back every hour for a smoke, nearly bites his own fingers off to avoid texting his bunny. He can't blame her for wanting some space, but good luck explaining that to his bear.

He spends his days penned behind the bar, letting Soap keep the customers occupied so John can take his aggression out on every type of citrus known to man until the larders are overflowing with ugly, hacked up orange slices which Soap steadfastly refuses to comment on. He keeps his silence well, in fact, never once asking what's on John's mind although John can see those good bartender instincts vibrating under the surface, desperate to sit Price down with something strong in one hand and a chisel in the other, really get to the core of him. John knows he should cut the man some slack, subject himself to Soap's particular brand of mother henning just to build some camaraderie. Instead, he audits receipts without fully remembering how numbers work.

He attends a bloody small business committee meeting, gets told he has to add some curb appeal. He makes a note of it instead of biting the chairperson's head off, and deletes it immediately with a vindictive curl of his lip. The commerce building has the kind of stale, uncycled air quality that only a government establishment can. He stews in body odor and reheated leftovers for hours, only realizing why it had bothered him so much when he steps outside and takes the full force of his mate's scent like a brick in the face. Christ, she's been near recently. She smells good, clean and well fed. The heavy scent of her estrus is gone, replaced instead with the strong, masculine scent of -

Oh, holiest of holies; luteinising hormone, impending storm that you are.

He keeps himself confined to the walk-in the rest of the day, detailing already-clean shelving as an excuse to huff bleach solution - the only scent strong enough to keep his rabbit's at bay now that he knows her heat is imminent. Every time he steps outside he can smell her, has to white knuckle his bear back into submission. His mate, going into heat. Keeping herself away from him, walking around town smelling like that, all while another boar looms to the south.

If he'd been irritable before, he's downright inconsolable now.

John liked to pride himself on the knowledge that he probably knew what most things felt like. Afterall, it's not every human who can slough his skin off at the end of the day and become a whole new species. But this is new. It's worse than a rut, truly. At least in a rut he could fuck a pillow or something when in dire straits, but this - subject to another's instincts, unable to appease the bottomless well of want he can smell in the air like the lingering spores of dry rot. It's dangerous to indulge; worse yet to ignore. He'd meant it when he'd said she could run him ragged for a year if she wanted, and dammit he still did, but he hadn't considered this collusion of events. It left him untethered. Completely unhinged.

He's been visiting her nearly every night just to keep himself sane, but it doesn't do much good now, his bear gone so fucking basal he can barely remember their interactions the next day. He gets vague sense memories the next morning: smell, mostly; glass cleaner coating his tongue. Not much more. So it strikes him as odd when his bear allows a moment of clarity a few nights later. He doesn't know what to do with her words right then, but he wakes up hard and desperate, remembers her sad eyes when she admits she's not used to getting what she wants, cums all across his own chest when he realizes she means him, respecting her boundaries, how she wants him to reach out. Who is he to refuse?

***

He nearly mauls her when she climbs down out of her Jeep the following Monday, her scent fucking lethal. She's got on that same thin sweater she'd worn on their first date, nipples just barely evident in the brisk morning air. Her tits are fuller; lips, too. They yield under his own deliciously when he kisses her in greeting. A little too desperately, if the way she laughs sweetly against his mouth is any indication. Still, she doesn't pull away and John presses his luck, glancing around to make sure they're relatively alone. It's a small garden center, but crowded with like-minded patrons eager to get their spring planting done. His rabbit's got a knack for picking quiet corners of lots, though, so when he spots no prying eyes, he walks her back the half step needed to press her soft bum against the door, cradles her face with one hand as the other rests on the roof of her car.

"You look nice," he tells her in between kisses. "Missed you." He slips some tongue into his next kiss, pulls back like he's afraid he might have scalded her when he suddenly remembers the whole reason he'd had to miss her was 'cause she'd wanted space. "That okay?"

"Yes. Yes, definitely." Breathy, tits heaving ever so slightly. He gives her a smile like she personally hung the moon, then kisses her a little less innocently, humming happily into her mouth when her timid little hands find his belly. He doesn't pull away until her breaths come heavy through her nose, pushing her soft chest up into his. He doesn't go far when he does, either. Rests his forehead against hers, content to breathe the same air as her for a moment.

"Good to see you, too," she eventually jokes and John chuckles at himself, kisses her on the bridge of her nose, right between the eyes, before stepping away from her completely.

"Sorry bunny, couldn't help myself." He eyes her over suggestively, noting how her nipples have hardened further in the absence of his body heat. Emboldened, he reaches out and pinches one ever so gently, chuffing happily at the squawk she emits.

"Shit, are they really that bad?" She frets, crossing her arms over her ample chest. Squished, her tits fold prettily over her soft arms. He barely has enough higher brain function to note that she didn't necessarily tell him to stop - though his brain seems to have its priorities straight, running that bit of information up the flagpole so high it probably displaces 'keep breathing' for a moment.

"Don't think so… let me see again?"

He must nail the delivery because she unfolds her arms for his assessment without any hint of suspicion.

"Not bad at all," John rumbles, earning a surprised laugh.

"You're ridiculous. Lemmie grab a flannel or something, hold on." She turns to head toward the boot but John pins her with his hip, already removing his own thick button up. She humors him; doesn't even need to say anything as she takes it from him with an eyebrow raised.

"Ridiculous, remember?"

"How could I forget?" She smirks, letting him help her into it. It hangs past her arse, unfortunately, but can't be buttoned past her diaphragm because she's so lovely and full. She looks briefly embarrassed by that so John tucks a finger under the neckline to pull it away ever so slightly and grins like an idiot at the view he gets a peek of. She swats his hand away but she's smiling again so John counts it as a win. Ignoring his antics, she asks if he's sure he won't be cold without his flannel and he can't help but snort as he guides her toward the greenhouse, arms linked. "I'll be fine, bunny."

"Mm. Must be nice having your own pelt." She rubs her soft palm over his hairy arm and he damn near purs.

He'll have to save a skin for her next time he transforms. He can't gift it to her yet, unfortunately - bear pelts are quite costly and he knows her well enough by now to know she'd never accept if she thought he'd bought it. But later, when they're mated properly and she knows all his secrets… he pictures her laid out on his bed, buried under piles of his very flesh, pleasing herself as she scents him.

"Yes, well." John clears his throat. "Cuddle up and share the warmth, yeah?"

She complies easily, tucking herself under his arm happily; oblivious to his inner turmoil. "Didn't know you were such a green thumb," she says conversationally and John snorts, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair.

"M'not. HOA of small businesses said I needed to add curb appeal. Boot shop across the road suggested plants."

"Ah, I see. Well, that'll be cute. You looking for like… hanging baskets? Planters? I don't think you'd have enough space but you'd probably trap more tourists if you did an herb-veggie garden thing to use in-house."

John blinks, pulls her impossibly closer, can't help the borderline cruel smile curling his lips. "You a gardener?"

"Well, not really anymore. Gardening in Dallas is a bit like trying to water spinach when it's already in the pan. And I don't really have the yard space now," she chuckles. "But I used to, back home."

"Clever rabbit can grow her own clover, eh? I could set up something on the roof for an herb garden… maybe do veggies out by the brewery…"

"Well that sounds like a lot of work if all you need is curb appeal."

"Sure, but it's smart. And if I put the beds closer to the outer wall on the roof, they would be visible from the street."

"Added privacy," the rabbit tacks on, stepping away from him to eye some overlarge ferns. John grins after her. Food and privacy. She's already improving his den. "Anyway, what are you thinking for the curb itself? You have a pretty masculine style going on in there; keep it green? You open to color?"

"I'm thinking I brought the right person for the job." He waves his hand at her. "Whatever you think, bunny, go crazy."

Her eyes drift off to some topiaries before snapping back to him. "Is this like a company expense? What's the spending limit?"

John barks with laughter. "Said go crazy, didn't I?"

She hoofs it to the topiaries and John heads off in search of a flatbed.

***

It's a good thing he'd had the foresight to bring the cargo van. He winds up with matching topiaries to put on either side of the door, enough hanging ferns to dot the spaces between the windows, dressing for the window stools, and plenty of box planters to top the concrete wall the sections off the patio seating from the street. ("Are those yours or the city's? You should have someone paint them if you can.")

John just nods along when prompted, tells her he prefers warm tones to cool, and smells as many flowers as he can in an attempt to keep her scent at bay.

It doesn't work. She's not in a true heat, he can tell now - must be on the pill -, but her hormones are still out of control and while he logistically knows he's the only one who can smell her wet cunt, the urge to get her cock drunk and satiated, so full up of his seed no challengers will ever mistake her for an unmated sow again is damn near out of control. At least he avoids taking her in the employee's tool shed like a randy teen.

Inside, by the register, she chats with the clerk about planting options regarding the herbs she wants to get started when she doesn't even have a bed made for them, yet. John distracts himself by perusing the small collection of indoor plants disinterestedly, heavy mit dragging along springy leaves while he keeps an eye on his girl. Until a coarse, hairy, jumble of roots has him yanking his hand away on instinct, glowering down at the gnarled plant in question.

It's an ugly thing, at first glance. Dark leaves hiding twisted aerial roots which resemble tarantula legs - thick and furry, they amble directionless, giving them the uncanny appearance of being in possession of too many joints. John drags a finger over a root again, curiously, and is disappointed to find the fur hard and itchy. He huffs at it, not strictly human, affronted by the highly inedible looking greenery in front of him. He fishes out the placard, morbidly curious what the hell this thing could be - and nearly cracks his face in half with the size of his grin.

"Bunny, look," he calls as he approaches. "It's perfect."

"Oh my god! My grandmother used to have one of those. I forgot all about it. What is this th -?" she rolls her eyes up to him when she reads the tag, unimpressed frown firmly in place.

"Oh, a rabbit's foot fern!" the clerk she'd been talking to coos. "And our last one, I think. Great find!"

"Don't encourage him," the rabbit grouses just as John thanks her, putting his find on the counter. "Are you really buying that?"

"The lady said it was a good find," he smirked.

"It's dry as a bone! I'm not sure it'll make it."

"Oh these things are quite hardy, for ferns. Just water well and keep it humid, those roots'll soften up in no time."

"Those things get softer?"

It's bunny who answers, fussing with a crunchy root all the while. "Yeah, they look like tarantula legs when they're thirsty, but they do indeed look soft as a rabbit when healthy."

"They're quite cool," the clerk adds as she begins scanning. "Can live forever if treated well, too. I've got one that my mother bought in the eighties."

John hums, pressing a kiss into the rabbit's temple. "Be sure to do that, then."

***

She's not done making him wait; completely oblivious to his struggles. "You're not doing my gardening for me, bunny," he tries, but she's stubborn and despite his impatience, seeing her toil away at his den soothes something in him. Doesn't mean it's not torture watching her work, bent over and kneeling on the ground, dirty up to her elbows in soil. He helps her as much as he knows how; keeps her plied with water and berries instead when she sends him and his black thumbs away. She lets him feed her a few times, the pad of his thumb lingering on her lips.

"Are you really not mad at me?" She asks eventually, attempting to rub dirt off her cheek but only serving to smudge it more with her dirty fingers.

John frowns down at her for a moment. "What on earth for?"

She shrugs. "Leaving for a few days, I guess?"

"Oh, honey. No. Told you you could take all the time in the world." And then, when that strange instinct which takes over for him when she's being flighty rears its head, "That's not why you're doing all this, is it?"

A beat.

Too long. She's just starting to shrug when John's extending a hand down to her. "Up you get, bunny. I'm not -." Phil "That's not -." Phil "Let's go inside. Get you cleaned up."

"But we're -."

"It's enough, sweetheart. We can finish tomorrow if you want. For now, let's get you cleaned up."

---

They don't make it that far. A kiss to her temple, a sigh of contentment, muddy fingers mark the nape of John's neck. She says they'll get his sheets dirty and John laughs 'that's the point.'

They leave a trail of her clothes to his bedroom. He peels the layers off reverently, bites the apples of her dimpled flesh so lightly she just chuckles at him, calls him a weirdo when he licks his own drool off her tits. He can't help it, tongue heavy with lust and hunger.

He gets her on her belly first, big soft ass tilted up at him by the still-clothed arm he's got wrapped under her, free hand spreading her cheek wide enough he can press his face into the seam of her. He snuffles in there, groaning at her scent, tongue seeking out the very back of her cunt and working the fluttery skin. "Fuck," he hears her hiss, reaching her hand back to sink her fingers into his short hair. He tries looking up at her, discovers he's already too far buried in the globes of her ass to do so, and groans again.

Laying out fully now, his weight pinning her legs, John keeps kneading her flesh to grant himself better access. He drops until he can take her lips into his mouth, sucking on them and coating his tongue in the slick that clings to the soft flesh. She tastes better than she smells, somehow. He tilts his head and opens his mouth wide enough he can gently dig his teeth into her puffy vulva and she moans prettily so he stays there, tongue lapping at her folds and groaning. She's so wet - a bottomless spring. John thinks he could drink from her forever.

"Fuck, honey. All this for me?" He teases, retreating only enough to pull her folds open with his thumb so he can lick a fat stripe right over her glistening hole. "You spoil me."

"John, fuck -. I want -."

"Want what, honey?" He doesn't think she can hear him, the way he's making out with her cunt when he speaks, but she gets the sentiment anyway.

"More, please, John, I need -." She cuts herself off with a moan when he spits on her and gives up words altogether, electing instead to reach under herself and take his hand from her hip, forcing it down between her legs.

Never one to deny her anything, he chuckles against her skin as he complies, breath hot where it traps in her cute little curls. Shifting his weight, he spreads one of her legs just enough to give himself room to work which he does immediately, curling two fingers up to her hole to gather slick and framing her clit with them. "That it, baby?" he asks, biting the crease where her ass meets her thigh gently. "Don't like when I tease you? Just need it right here, huh?" He drags his thumb down her slit again, holding her folds and flesh out of the way so he can see exactly what he's doing to her, notes precisely what makes her twitch. When his fingers pull her hood back fully and his thumb brushes her raw clit and she seizes up like she's been shocked, he places a soothing kiss against her ass.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'll play nice," he coos; and then very much doesn't.

Keeping her clit's pretty little veil fully retracted, John buries his nose in her cunt - right in the core of her, source of all his anxieties - and kisses her bare little pearl bruisingly. He licks and sucks and slurps, lets his lips vibrate against her when he hums approvingly at her own noises. She tries to buck him off a few times but he just winds his free hand around her hips as well to keep her close, settles himself more firmly across her legs to keep her pinned. It's a struggle to breathe like this, but he'd be content to die here if it came to that so he stays put, sucking in ragged breaths when she manages to pull away just enough to fuck herself back onto him.

When her cunt starts fluttering around him he tilts his head to the side to make room for the free hand he pulls back out from under her and dips the very tips of two fingers into her, tickling the edges of the inner lips there. She damn near sobs, thick thighs struggling to lift both their weight enough to bring him into herself. John pulls away with a cruel scrape of teeth against her clit, chuckling when she threatens to shake apart. "Need something, sweetheart?"

"Christ, John, just fuck me, please," she begs, too lucid. That won't do.

"Ask nice," he counters, spitting on her clit and lapping at it, letting his motions carry long enough that it drags his lip and beard across the sensitive little thing as well. She shutters, cunt clenching around his first knuckles. His cock slots between her calves and he uses his own legs to keep hers pressed together so he can fuck down into the channel he's created. She's soft there, too, a much needed contrast to the bite of his trousers.

"John, please. Please fuck me, please. Want to feel you."

He hums in thought, never once entertaining the idea. "Gotta stretch you first, sweetheart. Get you nice and loose. Too tight to take me like this." To prove his point, he bullies his fingers into her in one long stroke. She hisses something that might be a curse, swollen lips falling open as he keeps pressing into her. She's wet enough to take him, but too tense, and he tongues the rim of her when she clenches tight.

"See? Gotta take care of you first, right honey?"

She nods, eyes glazing over a bit, and John hides his smile in her arse before licking his way back down to her throbbing clit.

He plays with her a while longer, returns to the aimless licking and sucking that's less designed to get her off and more designed to get her wet and frustrated. By the time her clenching around his fingers is timed to keep him in more so than out, John's discovered she quite likes a little bit of teeth and he's got her vulva so swollen with love bites and kisses he's distantly worried her cute little knickers will hurt her when he finally lets her put them back on. All the while, she just takes it; moaning prettily and huffing in frustration by turns. Someday she'll realize he can't deny her anything and she'll beg so sweetly when he gets her like this. But for now, she doesn't know what kind of power she has over him so just lays there, incapacitated, sighing and groaning, letting him make a mess of her.

It's the third finger that does it. Where they'd been languid and teasing only moments ago, she's jittery and desperate now, trying to rock herself back onto him with what little leverage she has. He takes pity on her, his own need drawing tighter as well. "You wanna cum, baby?" he asks, voice surprisingly tender considering how deep it's fallen.

"Please, John, please," she babbles, calves flexing under him as she wiggles in anticipation.

"Show me then," he prompts, and drags her hood back from her clit to suck at it happily, bullying a spot deep inside her that makes her breathing go wet and ragged.

"John! Fuck -. Jesus, I -." The moan she lets out when he hardens his tongue and flicks it against her is filthy so John carries on like that. Her fingers have slid from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck and he'd like to see her like that, all bowed and twisted to keep him where she needs him, but he's also quite content with the view he has here so he digs himself impossibly deeper and presses the heel of his palm against her lower belly and -.

She drenches him, moans loud and erratic, simultaneously trying to flinch away from him and keep him pressed against the veritable font she's become. "Shit," John hisses, using his grip to bow her back impossibly more so he can take most of the flow to his chest. He works her through it, can't resist lapping at her with fat stripes of his tongue which leave his mouth full. He's soaked, beard wet and dripping, shirt probably ruined. She's a panting, writhing mess by the time he relents, too fucked out to even keep herself propped up anymore, face buried in his pillow.

It takes him a moment to realize she's muttering something, content as he is to catch his breath in the humid hinges of her joints. When he finally registers her quiet voice he climbs his way up her mountainous body, dropping kisses to freckles and stretch marks. "Wassat, honey?" He asks her temple as he folds his arms under her body, cradling her to his chest as he lays out over her again.

She turns her head just enough to allow her voice to escape the pillow. "Said, 'sorry'."

John grunts, momentarily distracted from his mission to grope every inch of her tits. "Why you sorry, sweetheart?"

"Didn't mean to make a mess. Never done that before."

"Never?" He chuckles, choosing to ignore the fact she felt she needed to apologize so as not to lose his temper. "Nothing to be sorry about, honey. Quite liked it."

She peeks back at him. "You did?"

He hums, bites her cheek lightly. "I did. You can mark me anytime you want."

"Ew," she laughs and he joins her, kissing down her neck.

"You need a minute, bunny?"

She shakes her head, pushes at his forehead until he gives her enough room to roll over. He plasters himself to her front but she's quick to push him away again. "Can we get you out of these wet clothes?"

Sitting back on his shins, John pulls his shirt over his head and is delighted when her fingers immediately find the fur of his belly, taking a moment to pet him before helping with his belt. There's the usual tangle of limbs, made better by the soft body that yields to his weight when he has to dig his hips into her for leverage. After stripping him, she guides him with a hand at his hip onto his back and he goes easily, happy as can be to have her straddling his thighs.

"So bloody pretty, bunny." He gets a handful of her tits while she takes his measure, eyes slightly apprehensive but movements eager.

"See why you wanted to stretch me out," she says, and then reaches back to plant one hand on his thigh, giving her enough leverage to rub her soaked cunt up his length.

"Fuck," he hisses, palming her mons so he can get a better look. "That's it baby, get me good and wet."

Instead, she stops, eyes him over with those big prey eyes. He's back peddling frantically, palms sliding over her thighs soothingly, trying to find the words to bring her back when she grabs his hands, holds them with twitchy fingers for a moment. "Can I -," she starts, then slides up his forearms and leans forward to fold them over his head. "This okay?"

He's distantly aware there's something important being said here, but he's too distracted by her tits hanging in his face to say much beyond gruff agreement.

She smiles anyway. "Stay there," she instructs, then returns to her ministrations.

She's so wet he can hear it, the soft noises mingling with her huffy breaths. He grabs the bottom of the headboard, the temptation to reach out and guide her already testing him. It's torture, really - the way she presses his cock into her slick folds with the flat of her hand, watching her eyes flutter when the head of him catches on her entrance. He twitches and she sinks a centimeter, sighs at the stretch.

"Bunny," he hedges, but she shakes her head, pace tectonic as she rocks herself on the scrap of flesh she's found.

"Stay there," she says again, voice gone reedy. He groans but nods, readjusting his grip.

He must make for a pathetic sight because she takes pity, sinks another centimeter or so. She squeezes him so sweetly it's hard to contain his noises, and he's sure he sounds like a bellows when she starts rubbing her clit again, her walls fluttering around him.

"Do you mind it?" She asks and he huffs, not quite human.

"Mind it?"

She leans forward to plant her hands on his arms. He doesn't whimper when it pulls her near completely off his cock, he doesn't. "This?" She clarifies, squeezing the meat of his ulnas.

"Oh." He blinks, thoughts slow and sticky. He wants to touch her, but she put him like this because… because…

His tongue feels like it's stuck to the bottom of his mouth. "No, sweetheart. Whatever you need."

She smiles sadly down at him, adjusts her grip on his arms, then sinks fully down his length at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Fuck, baby." He makes no move to help her despite an overwhelming urge to grab two handfuls of ass and just fuck up into her.

Their height difference means she has to crowd over him to keep her hands planted. He leans up for a kiss and she obliges, rubs her clit against the hair at the base of his cock. He's so lost in the feeling of her it takes him a minute to realize she's holding back, hovering just above him when she should be smothering him.

"You're not gonna hurt me, bunny," he mutters into her mouth. She draws back a fraction of an inch to get a good look at him and he nods to where she's made room, just for him. "Sit on it. Properly."

"But -."

"Sit." He's careful to hide any lingering anger from his voice, lets her hear nothing but his desire. It works. She shivers and sinks fully onto him, lips parting as he notches perfectly against the very end of her. Made for each other. "Good rabbit. See how much better that is?"

"Deep," she says, about all she can manage.

He chuckles, maybe a little mean. "Right where you need me. Right where I'm s'posed to be. Ride me, rabbit. Show me how you like it."

She does: a slow grind that keeps him buried, barely raising herself off him. She leans forward more so than up. It keeps her sensitive little clit pressed close to his curls and has the added benefit of swinging her tits into his face. He latches on when the noises he makes venture too far from human, smothering his grunts in her soft flesh. He wants to bite her, mark her. Flip her onto the bed and scruff her while he fucks her from behind. He wants to tear the throat out of the man who came before him who's left her like this. Instead, he growls low words of encouragement into her flesh, tilts his hips ever so slightly up when the cant of her own interferes with her rhythm. It doesn't take her long after that.

"John," she pants, "please."

"Please what, baby?" He scrapes his teeth over the beard burn in her cleavage, feels her grip on his forearms flex.

"I need… I need…" she raises herself half off him, gives him room to move. It's the furthest she's been from him since bottoming out and he nearly growls in displeasure.

Instead, he says, "Need me to fuck you? Need me to make it better?"

"Yes, please, John."

"Let me hear it."

She looks lost between pouting and shuddering. Answers him anyway, "John, please, need you to fix it. Fuck me, John, please."

"That's it, bunny. Keep talking," he says, and then he gives her what she wants - fucking up into her with long, precise thrusts that leave her gasping. She doesn't exactly keep talking, but the noises that spill from her lips are even better, combining with the sounds of her slick cunt, the quiet slap of his balls.

"Gonna -," she tries. Doesn't make it much further.

"Yeah you are. Play with your clit for me. You gonna drench me again?" She shakes her head and he laughs - too mean, but she doesn't seem to notice. "Yes you will. Let me touch that pretty pussy, sweetheart. Just wanna feel." Whether she remembers why he wasn't allowed to touch or not, she doesn't need any more convincing than that. She nods, leans fully back to plant her hands on his thighs and resumes the pace he'd set. Like this, he feels himself notch impossibly deeper and with just a few more thrusts, he gets his palm flat on her, thumb at her clit and then she's soaking him again, damn near sobbing, squeezing him so hard he's briefly worried she'll take it with her when she's done with it. He's helpless but to follow, a long groan of her name he's sure she can't understand for how animalistic his voice has gone.

No sooner does she slide off him than he's pulling her to his chest, rolling them onto their sides so he can kiss her stupid. He's still got the one arm tucked over his head, but she pulls it down to thread their fingers together and that's it for him. Put a fork in him, all that.

---

If he takes measure of her finger while they're interlaced, well, it's no worse than her deciding where to hang the fern later

***

From his vantage point behind the kitchen saloon doors, Simon watches as Johnny carouses the customers, keeps drinks topped. He's good at it. Friendly in that way Simon never was. Got a face like a puppy, honest and endearing.

Plays at snarling when he needs to.

The Texan's new, which in itself doesn't say much. Glacier's no stranger to strangers. What is odd - what has Simon considering adding the roll of 'bouncer' to his ever-growing job description - is the way this particular stranger is instantly asking after John's bird.

It had started off innocent enough, from what Simon's been able to piece together since he started paying attention. The man came in, ordered a beer, and nursed it all by his lonesome at the end of the bar. Eventually he'd asked Johnny if he'd seen the bird, as apparently the two were supposed to meet up. Johnny, not thinking much of it at the time, had said no but she'd probably be around sooner or later. That had been four hours ago.

Every half hour, Johnny tries to sell the man on a new beer. He always refuses, content to waste space at the bar on what's turning out to be a surprisingly busy Tuesday. Two hours ago, Johnny had suggested the possibility that the bird had stood him up. The man took it in stride, saying he quite liked it where he was and was content to stay even without company. One hour ago, he'd been told to either order something or leave. He'd ordered an appetizer, hadn't touched it since.

The questions had started right about the time Johnny had begun snarling, the man evidently completely unconcerned by the fact he'd been figured out. He asks Johnny how he knows the bird, when's the last time he saw her, if she has a job out this way. Johnny, of course, clever pup, gives him the runaround. The man does the same when Johnny returns fire.

The final straw is when he starts asking about John.

"Say, who's the owner here anyway?" The man asks, cocky grin still firmly in place.

To his credit, Johnny doesn't do much as flinch. "Dunno, never met him."

"Now I find that hard to believe, small place like this. You don't even know the man's name?"

"You need a box for that?" Johnny nods at the untouched plate of food.

The man slides it across the bar, shaking his head. "Toss it. You know, I looked this place up 'fore I came in. I could tell you your boss's name, if you want. He's from 'cross the pond, too. Thought that was odd. See, I think you know your boss's name. I think y'all know each other real well, in fact. And I think you know why I don't want him 'round my girl, don't you?" His voice drops, conspiratorial. "Dangerous men, y'all."

Next>>

#bearshifter!price #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #bear!price #fatted rabbit #💷🔪

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irisbleufic · 12 days ago

Note

Re: your 1973 devil’s minion wip, I have never learned this much weirdly specific shit about a single decade before! Transportation labor strikes, neighborhood movie theaters that don’t exist anymore, how much a song cost in a jukebox, fucking BANGERS that I’ve never listened to before, creepy cool genre-defying movies I’ve never seen, local natural disasters I’ve never heard of, brands of beer, long closed department stores… ugh it’s so neat 😍

My dad and his cousin lived in CA for a while in the 1970s. I was born in the early 1980s, but they used to haul me out there when I was a kid. They used to talk a lot about what San Francisco was like in the ’70s. The only time I visited San Francisco as an adult was in 2008, and I did some genuinely ill-advised substances that weekend with strangers at the Toronado after about six beers (luckily, they were kind and got me back to my hotel unharmed). I’ve been doing research on my own to fill in gaps, and one of the more hilarious roadblocks I ran up against was not being able to find the average cost of an umbrella in 1973—so I just had Daniel steal it! 🤣

But no, otherwise, everything referenced in this story is real. Alta Mira Hotel used to be one of the two nicest hotels in Sausalito, but it’s now a private rehab center. I couldn’t use Casa Madrona because it was closed temporarily in 1973 due to a mudslide. Pink Floyd did do a famous photo shoot there in 1967. The considerations at a local level have been keeping me busy and generating a lot of additional files; I’ve got a Talamasca operation on my laptop just for 1960s-70s San Francisco Bay Area bullshit.

Listen, I’m not sane about any of this, and I’m having fun. It’s been my pleasure to assist in your discovery of weird trivia.

#devil’s minion #armand x daniel #iwtv #iwtv fanfiction #1970s #1970s music

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

Text

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I decided to drop the last five chapters to this story at once cuz I'll be EXTREMELY busy with my summer job & I'm also working on a new fic. Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I had so much fun writing it. I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

TWENTY-THREE.

A week after being saved by you from drowning and possibly losing a limb, Aizawa’s dorm room is finally ready to be moved into again and he sees you everywhere: on the news; in the papers; on Twitter.

And he fucking hates it.

It’s bad enough you’ve been all up in his mind, but now he has to see you in your hot-ass Night Claw outfit in every magazine and newspaper now?

Not to mention the viral videos. You were kicking Aqua Master’s ass in that pencil skirt and blouse. Though you look good and you certainly deserve your fame, he can’t help but also be extremely worried about how your life could go from here.

Since last Friday’s mission with the Aqua Master, he hasn’t heard anything negative from Principal Nezu, the HPSC, or the police chief whom he was sure would slap some cuffs on you on Friday afternoon.

Aizawa would’ve damn well bailed you out himself if not raised hell to the police department if that shit happened. He hasn’t heard much from Endeavor’s hot-headed ass either, thank God. The man knows what’s good for him. Aizawa thought he had lost his mind talking to you in that manner.

To say he wasn’t ready to teach Endeavor a lesson right there in front of everyone is an understatement, but Aizawa knew better. He didn't want his little Eri to see Daddy fucking up another pro on TV.

All he can hope is that things go well for you here. He knows for a fact that the UA kids are talking as are the streets of Musutafu about the sexy, skilled cat girl hero who singlehandedly took down a villain and saved dozens of lives, including Eraserhead’s.

Though you’re absolutely insane, he has the utmost respect for you for kicking ass without your disguise, knowing fully well you’d be plastered all over Japan and possibly the world as a new hero stepping onto the scene. He just hopes the HPSC doesn't try to scoop you up. He’ll fight to keep that at bay, but if it happens, it’s ultimately your decision.

These thoughts have been bugging Aizawa all week, so on a beautiful Saturday morning, he decides to take Eri to the park. There aren’t many people here yet, so he lets Eri have free range of the playground area. “Daddy, can I go on the swing?” she asks, eagerly looking up at him.

He smiles, nodding. “Go have at it, but be careful and try not to get your clothes too dirty.” As she skips away in her baby blue dress, he takes a seat on a nearby bench to watch her. The air is clean, the breeze is cool, and the sun is warm on his face.

Definitely, some good weather to clear his head and figure out this you problem. He hasn’t spoken to you since last Friday when you saved his life. He wants to be angry at you for being so reckless like that, but his respect and adoration for your decision overpowers that.

“Dammit,” he sighs, running a frustrated hand down his face. Why do you have to be so stubborn?

“I knew I recognized that voice!” a familiar, cheery voice exclaims from beside him. “I’m not used to seeing you out and about, Aizawa.”

Aizawa turns, finding a small mouse wearing a kind smile and a red tracksuit with a UA sweatband around his forehead. “Principal Nezu,” he says. “You’re out here? Aren’t you afraid of the gettin’ swiped up by a dog or something?”

Nezu titters to himself, waving his paw. “Oh, no,” he laughs. “That’s what I’ve got this for.” He slides something out of the tiny fanny pack wrapped around his waist, revealing it to be an animal repellent. “But don’t worry; it doesn’t hurt ‘em. Just gives off a very unpleasant smell.”

Aizawa nods, struggling not to laugh at the idea of his boss carrying that around. Nezu hops up next to him, already knowing Aizawa won’t mind his company.

“I see you’ve caught wind of the new hero that hit the streets too, huh?” he chuckles. “I will admit, Ms. L/N looked incredible in that news clip the way she handled herself. I’m shocked she never decided to be a pro hero.”

A record scratches in Aizawa’s head as he turns to the mouse. “Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows at Nezu. “You know?”

“Well, of course, I do!” Nezu laughs as if it should’ve been obvious. “I always have! I will admit that I was worried about how it would affect the other staff and students here or how it could potentially affect her job, but Y/N has never disappointed me on that front. She knows how important it is to be an outlet for the kids.”

He looks at Aizawa, seriousness in his eyes. “Besides, after she saved your life when Toyoma attacked you, I could never go and fire her. She has a pure heart.”

Aizawa sighs, his muscles relaxing. He has never felt so relieved. This means your job is safe! Nezu is still giving him that serious look though which puts him slightly on edge.

“I am sorry for what happened that night, Shouta,” he solemnly says. “To you and Eri. I’m just glad your dorm is ready to live in again.” He turns to Eri still on the swings, giggling happily. The two wave at each other, filling Aizawa with joy.

“So am I,” the pro sighs, relieved. “And you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad I’m here and breathing.” Nezu smiles fondly, patting Aizawa on the arm. “That’s the right attitude.”

Silence then descends on them, though not awkwardly. It is peaceful, but guilt eats Aizawa up with every second they sit in silence. He has to tell him the truth.

“I have something to tell you,” he sighs, the guilt winning him over. Nezu turns to him expectantly and he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. “A couple months ago, I adopted a cat for Eri to keep her company and help her make her feel more like a kid. Unfortunately, that fell through, but I’m sorry I went against your rules. I just wanted to give Eri as much happiness as I could when I’m not able to be with her.”

Nezu says nothing for a while, just blankly staring up at Aizawa. He stares down at his boss, wondering what he’s thinking. Is he going to be fired right here, right now? Will he be banned from the dorms? Who will Eri live with then? “Shouta, I already knew about the cat,” Nezu matter-o-factly says.

Aizawa’s eyes widen, shocked. "You think cameras don't exist in the faculty dorms? I’ve seen that cat walk in and out of that building time and time again!”

Nezu just laughs like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “But since she never gave me or anyone else trouble, I never bothered. Plus, I could see how happy she made you and Eri since you adopted her. It's always nice to see a smile on your face. You’ve always looked so down.”

Aizawa doesn’t know how to handle hearing that. So Nezu has worried about him too? What of everyone else? What of Eri? Had she noticed too? Maybe he needs to get better at hiding things. ‘Or maybe just express how you feel to the people you love, ass,’ he critically thinks. ‘No matter how embarrassing.’

“Pardon my saying,” Nezu continues, “but I feel as if that smile hasn’t always been from the cat though.” He stares at Aizawa, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “It’s from Y/N, isn’t it?”

Aizawa’s flushed cheeks say everything he needs to know, and he chuckles to himself. “I could always see you two had a special relationship which I’m sure can be just as strong now. It could just about be unbreakable with a little communication.”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow at his words. He can't help but feel like Nezu is saying them for a reason. Does he know you and him are on awkward terms right now? Does this mouse have eyes in the back of his head or something to know everything that happens in his school? Whatever it may be, it is good and critical advice. “So you really don’t mind pets?” he asks.

Nezu rubs his paw along his chin, thinking. “Well, I do have a condition for that,” he replies, making Aizawa’s heart leap. “If you are to have pets, you have to be sure they won’t eat me and you’ll have to carry me in your jumpsuit for the next five months…starting now.”

Aizawa rolls his eyes, but unzips the top half of his tracksuit anyway. Now he’ll be cleaning out mouse fur from his tracksuit and scarves for weeks. “Come on,” he sighs.

Nezu happily laughs as he scurries across the bench and up onto Aizawa’s chest before burrowing himself under his tracksuit. When Aizawa zips it up, Nezu’s head pops out from under his scarves, peeking at the world.

“And thank you,” Aizawa softly says, smirking down at the little creature. Nezu smiles up at him fondly. “It’s my pleasure. Now let’s go to the swings!”

The rest of the afternoon is spent at the park, playing on the swings with Eri and Nezu and walking along the hiking trails to help Eri pick flowers. After dropping Nezu off at his office back at UA, Aizawa takes Eri back to their dorm.

It feels so good to finally be back in the familiar halls of the faculty dorms after so long. Though the apartment Nezu rented for them was very cozy, Aizawa missed the cherry blossoms blooming outside his window and the homely feeling he got from his dorm room.

Eri must’ve missed it too from how she was skipping down the hallway next to him, happy as a clam. “Daddy, are we still seeing the new Spider-verse movie tomorrow?” She asks, then gasps excitedly. “Do you think Y/N would wanna go with us? I think she’d really like it!”

This isn’t the first time she has mentioned your name. She’s been doing so ever since Toyoma's attack, wondering if she can visit you at your office or your dorm.

And Aizawa always has the same answer: “I could ask her, pumpkin, but Y/N has been very busy lately. I don't think she’d–“

He suddenly pauses when they get to their door, noticing something there that is out of place. A little wicker basket with a soft, plush blanket on top sits in front of the door.

“What the hell?” Aizawa whispers. He furrows his brows in confusion at the basket, holding Eri’s hand a little firmer now. It could just be fruits or chocolates, but if he knows anything, you can never be too careful when it comes to receiving unexpected gifts.

His defenses go up even more when the blanket begins to move. He swears his soul nearly leaves his body. “Daddy, look!” Eri gasps, pointing at the moving blanket. “It’s moving! I think there’s something in it.” She manages to escape Aizawa’s hold and runs over to the basket, kneeling beside it.

Anticipation for something horrible under that blanket fills Aizawa’s gut as Eri pulls back the blanket. 'It better not be no baby,’ he thinks. ‘I’ve already got one of those.’

But his mind isn’t even close to the truth. Settled within the blanket with a side of cat food, toys, and litter, is a little calico kitten with the pinkest nose and prettiest swirl pattern Aizawa has ever seen.

Eri gasps, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the animal. “It’s a kitten!” she squeals. “She’s so, so cute! Look, she's got a scar just like you, Daddy!”

Aizawa looks closer at the cat, finding a tiny scar under her left eye the shape of an upside-down present moon. Speaking of her eyes, they are so, so big! He can practically see the entire forest in the beautiful green shade of them. “Yeah,” he agrees, reaching a finger out to her. She sniffs him once with her little pink nose before brushing her head against his finger. “Where’d she come from though?”

While Eri starts to gently pet her head, he searches for a card. There has to be something here to tell him where she came from. Luckily, he finds it. Taped to the bottom of the basket is a little white card scribbled in fast, pen-inked handwriting. He reads it over, his heart melting at the sweet words:

A furry cure for loneliness and a great addition to any family. Meet Nea (for Neapolitan, like the ice cream). Enjoy! Feel free to change her name. -Love.

A laugh bubbles from Aizawa’s chest once he finishes reading the card. Though they didn’t leave a name, he knows exactly who this precious gift is from and makes a mental note to thank them personally. After making a few calls first, of course.

“Who is she from, Daddy?” Eri curiously asks, still petting the kitten.

Aizawa just smiles as he kneels down next to the basket and the excited, mewing kitten. “A very good friend of mine,” he answers before gently stroking the kitten’s head. “Nice to meet you, Nea.”

*********

“Anybody want another one?” Mic asks, already whipping up another delicious, pineapple, mint-flavored cocktail in Nemuri's dorm kitchen.

You sigh, pushing away the second cocktail you haven’t even finished yet. “Not unless you want my clothes off,” you joke, leaning your cheek on your fist. Mic pauses in his kitchenette, a wolfish smile curling onto his lips. “Well…”

As you laugh, Nemuri pegs a pillow at him from her spot next to you on the couch. “Mic!” she gasps. The pro catches the pillow in one hand as he lowers the ice shaker of his mixed concoction with the other.

“C’mon, I’m kidding! Look, I got a smile out of her!” He nods at your lips curled into a grin after your laughter dissipates. “You truly are a magician then, darling,” Nemuri hums, sipping on her drink.

You gape at your friends, slightly offended by their words. You haven’t exactly been the most chipper person in the world since your reveal last Friday, but you’re not walking around like the world is about to end either.

“Hey, I smile,” you protest. “I’m just…thinking about things.”

Things like if you’re going to keep your job. Things like if the police chief will change his mind and charge you as a criminal. Things like if things will change for you for the worse. Even now, the halls of UA are talking.

You get kids coming into your office just to gush about your moves, especially Izuku Midoriya. He’s even put you in his notebook, asking you all kinds of questions about your quirk and hero fit. “What does it look like?” he asked with stars in his eyes earlier on Monday. “You’re really, super flexible! Can you still move in it? Does it come with claws?”

Though it was adorable, you had to hustle him out of your room just to get a breather in. Even worse are the news people who seem to know everywhere you go now.

Just yesterday, you were taking a jog in the park and you were accosted by a newsman and his camera crew, asking you about your day and if you’re a professional hero.

You know that it’s only a matter of time until someone starts asking questions like, “Do you go to the bathroom in a litter box?”

To be honest, you don’t even know if you want to be a pro-hero. Though the idea of it is fantastical and alluring, that also comes with brutal training, fighting villains almost every day, and constant, unwanted attention. You don’t know if you could handle all of that, let alone the transition from being a nobody into a celebrity. The idea of it frightens you.

Mic shakes the ice shaker filled with the contents of his cocktail, definitely having the means of a bartender if he wasn’t a hero. “Like about how you kicked that villain’s ass last week and ate up the cameras in the process?” he chuckles. "I’m still thinking about that too. You were amazing!”

You smile despite your indifference. You don’t feel too amazing. “As nice as this of you to say, Mic, that doesn’t change the fact that I could possibly lose my job now that everyone knows who I am.”

Though Nezu hasn’t visited your office lately, you still can't help but be fearful of the police storming into your office or dorm room in the dead of night one day.

Nemuri slings an arm around the back of the couch, her knees curled up under her sundress as she sips her drink. “Well, the chief didn’t take you in, so I’d think you’re in the clear.”

You shake your head, getting yourself worked up as you think of all of the possible things that could go wrong. “For now!” you argue. “Now that the chief has officially met me, I doubt he’s just gonna let me go free with all the buzz on me now. I still don’t have a license or–“

There is a sudden loud knock at the door, making you and Nemuri jump. “Who the hell is that?” Mic asks, scowling at Nemuri’s door.

You go to get up, but he beats you to it, already making wide strides toward the door on his long legs. Anxiety shoots into your body, making your heart pound in your chest. Nemuri puts a hand on your knee and you realize it’s to stop it from bouncing. “Yes?” he firmly calls.

“Amazon package,” a very gruff, deep, and familiar voice answers. A smile curls onto Mic’s lips and he winks at you before opening the door.

You nearly spill your drink at how fast you get up from the couch. Aizawa stands there in the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen on a man and jeans, his black locks calling carelessly down his shoulders. It’s so harrowing to see him there after not seeing much since last Friday. “Shouta?” you softly gasp. “What are you here?”

He doesn’t say a single word as he comes into Nemuri’s dorm and storms right over to you in four, long strides. You can’t do anything but gasp as his large hands cup your face and he smashes his lips against yours in a hot, toe-curling kiss.

Your eyes close instinctively, your senses overtaken by the softness of his lips, the mint on his tongue, and the scent of his cologne. The hairs on the back of your neck and the fur on your tail stand on end, excited by the stimulation.

“Oh, my!” Nemrui gasps from the couch in delighted shock. Knowing Mic, he’s probably just grinning at you two, knowing full well this was going to happen. That’s why he opened the door.

Finally, Aizawa pulls away from your mouth, his charcoal eyes soft yet intense. “That was for your sweet ass apology,” he breathlessly explains.

From the door, Mic clears his throat. “U-Uh we should give them privacy,” he says, already heading for the balcony. “Come on now, Nemuri. Give ‘em some room.” Though she huffs in protest, Nemuri gathers her drink and meets Mic out on her balcony, shutting the door behind them.

Your dizzy mind manages to piece together Aizawa’s cryptic words and your ears perk up excitedly. “So you got your present?” you ask with a beaming smile.

Aizawa returns your smile, looking unbelievably more beautiful with it. “Eri was so excited when she saw her all wrapped up at our door, I had to get Mirio to come over to calm her ass down. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Yes, I did,” you pointedly argue. “I’ve been lying to you and her for so long.” You plant your hands on his broad shoulders, breathing in his scent. God, you’ve missed his smell. “Neither one of you deserved to be deceived like that,” you mutter, staring down at your shoes, ashamed of yourself and your decisions.

“I know why you did it though,” Aizawa replies, holding you by your waist. “You felt if you didn’t, you’d be taking away the happiness you thought you gave us while pretending to be our pet. But you’re totally wrong about that, Y/N.”

He tilts your chin up towards his face with his thumb, making you look into his eyes that sparkle with adoration. “It’s you who makes us happy. You make me happy.”

You swear you could touch the moon now. You’re just about bursting with joy as you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest. “You make me happy too,” you softly giggle. Aizawa returns your embrace, his arms wrapped securely around your small frame. With the wall between you now broken, you feel like anything is possible now.

“So how’d things go once I left on Friday?” you curiously ask. “Did Endeavor pop a gasket?” Aizawa smirks down at you.

“Several,” he replies, making you laugh. “Oh, and Hawks told me to pass you his number since you told him we’re friends. I threatened to skin him like a turkey if he tried it.”

You let out another belly laugh, imagining Aizawa giving Hawks one of his death stares. But the happiness you feel doesn’t last long when you remember one important part of that day. “What about the police chief?” you nervously ask. “And Principal Nezu?”

Aizawa’s smile doesn’t falter. “Nezu already knew you were Night Claw.” You blink up at him, baffled. “W-What?” you stutter, wondering how in the hell your boss is this smart, or if you’re just that stupid. “Why didn’t he say anything?”

Aizawa presses a hand to your cheek, his thumb stroking the corner of your lip and making your tail embarrassingly quiver. “Because he never had a reason to unless you were a threat to UA, which you aren’t. You’re a big asset here according to him. Plus, even if he did wanna kick you out, I’d vouch for you. It’s what I owe to you since you’ve saved my life many times.”

You smile, grateful for him having your back. “As for the police chief, we had a chat earlier and he agreed to let you off the hook despite the buzz. The HPSC is on my ass about wanting you to join them too.”

You sigh, feeling relief overflowing inside you like a warm wave. You can’t believe your luck! Is God or the universe throwing you a bone?

“But,” Aizawa continues, making you stop short and not celebrate so quickly, “if you wanna continue fighting as Night Claw, you’ll have to take a few heroes courses and get your license. Lucky for you, there’s an adult six-month program that UA offers to staff for free here. If you take it, you’ll learn everything you need to know about being a pro, if you want that.”

You laugh softly to yourself, not believing your luck. This is just too much. “I don’t know what to say,” you confess, grasping Aizawa’s shoulders. “It’s almost like I’m dreaming.”

A secretive smile crosses his plump lips, a hidden message in his dark eyes. “Wanna check?” he murmurs.

Do you ever! He lets you make the first move this time, his lips ready and willing when you press your mouth against his in another kiss. You softly moan at the taste of him, forgetting how amazing it feels to be kissing him. He holds you closer as your lips move against each other, his big, calloused hands moving to cup your ass while your arms loop around his neck. You want him as close as he could possibly get after so many days without him.

When he suddenly pulls away, you whine in protest, earning a throaty chuckle. “I almost neglected to tell you that I’m a professor for the adult pro-hero program,” he huskily informs you. “I teach training.”

At his heated stare, a warmth begins to pool between your inner thighs that you have missed. You haven’t gotten this horny in weeks. “Oh?” you purr, playfully smiling up at him. “What kind of physical activities do you specialize in?”

Your head leans to the side as he swoops in, devouring your neck and bathing it in kisses that have your eyes fluttering closed. “Hand-to-hand combat,” he murmurs against your skin, "fighting with quirks, stuff along those lines.”

One of his hands trails down farther while one strays gripping your ass, making your clit jump excitedly. “But with you, I believe you could use additional…”

His fingers gently brush your trail, earning a soft moan from deep within you. “Hands-on training,” he purrs in your ear.

God, yes. You don’t care what the fuck he wanted to do, as long as he ends up on top of you. “Can we start now?” you mewl pathetically, moving away to stare at him pleadingly.

Though he has the same lust in his eyes, he has way more self-control than you, obviously. “Not that I don’t mind somethin’ kinky now and again,” he chuckles, “but would you rather have an audience for that?”

His eyes trail over your shoulder and you turn, finding Mic and Nemuri’s heads peeking from behind the balcony door. You put your hands on your hips, staring at them pointedly as if you were a Black mom staring at her badass kids. Mic immediately breaks and points at Nemuri, terrified. “She made me do it!” he cries.

Nemuri’s eyes flick between yours and Aizawa’s, her face beat red. “U-Uh…don’t mind us!” she hurriedly exclaims, shoving Mic back outside. “Go on and finish chatting!” She then disappears back onto the balcony and shuts the door though you can hear her yelling at Mic about being a snitch.

You and Aizawa look at each other once and immediately burst into laughter. It feels good to laugh with him. To talk to him. The feeling you get being with him is unlike any other you’ve felt. It feels like being wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching.

When your laughter finally dies down, Aizawa speaks once more. “I actually also came over to ask if you wanted to join Eri and me for dinner later.”

Your heart leaps at the invitation, already on the cusp of saying yes despite Aizawa still speaking. "We’re having pizza…nothin’ homemade though. And watching Into the Spider-verse ‘cause Eri is hellbent on seeing the sequel tomorrow.” He looks down at the floor, bashful all of a sudden. “She also asked if you wanted to go too, but I told her to may be busy, s-so–”

You stop him with a kiss, hoping he’ll get the message through your action: I’ll go anywhere you go.

But instead of saying that, you pull away and give him a smile. “I’d love to,” you whisper.

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #shouta aizawa x black!reader #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader

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thephoebeyates · 4 months ago

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≈ phoebe’s apartment. with @doctornilaybailey

Growing up in poverty meant growing up embarrassed of where you lived, unfortunately. Phoebe had always dreaded having friends over who lived in the nicer areas of Blue Harbor. It was a feeling that never really went away, even though her apartment in Cardinal Hill was a decent part of the downtown area, and she put her entire soul in decorating it with personal touches to whatever limitations her landlord had set for her.

Still, it was still an anxiety gnawing on her when she invited Nilay over; the anthropologist having a free moment of time, deciding to utilize that by properly meeting Misty. The cat hadn’t come out to attack the latest guest yet, though from the distant scratching noises, Phoebe knew she was close by when she welcomed Nilay in, instructing her to sit as she made them drinks, keeping her worries at bay by keeping busy. “So, just a word of warning!” She called from the kitchen, searching cabinet after cabinet — wondering where the fuck Foster housed the sugar nowadays — pulling a face at the $10 Earthwave branded garlic powder whose sole existence was the mock her, slamming the cupboard door closed. “If she approaches, just like, cross your arms over yourself. She’ll do that dopey thing where she’ll throw herself on her back and expose her tummy — it’s a trap to latch on!” Finally finding the sugar, she gave her own drink a generous spoonful and a quick mix, picking up the mugs and carrying them through, still talking about how to defend oneself best against Misty. “And if she jumps up on you just freeze, play dead, just don’t move because she will —”

Pausing at the sight before her, Phoebe’s jaw fell open. Misty, the demon cat who regularly drew blood from both her parents, was purring loudly in Nilay’s open lap, big eyes blinking slowly at the curator, only tilting her head to offer the intern a smug side-eye. If cats were capable of smirking, Phoebe would bet her entire savings on Misty doing that right now. “What the fuck?”

#c.nilay.bailey #nilay002

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aurora567 · 1 year ago

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Little Mouse Ch. 1

Warnings this fic will contain mature themes. Such as but not limited to teasing, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, very unhealthy relationships, some elements of non-con/rape, threesomes, drug use, breath play, voyeurism, branding.

Summery: Rin Nakano a young woman who once dreamed to be a pro hero finds herself down a different path in life. But what happens when she grabs the attention of the wrong person. And so she finds herself a willing prisoner with a man she finds insufferable, or so she did.

Word count: 5128

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

The young woman walked along the street. Late afternoon rush had the streets busy as people were bustling to and from their destinations. A red haired woman walked among the crowd, a bag in hand with her work uniform in it. She never liked wearing her scrubs home from work and always chose to carry them with her and change in and out of her clothes. The young woman was simply on her way home from work. Her feet dragged softly feeling exhausted after working a back to back shift. She wanted for nothing more than to get home, wash up and crawl into her bed.

The sudden growl of her stomach had her pause in her step. Fuck when was the last time she ate? During her first shift? Most likely. The thought of having to cook something once she was home was not overly appealing but she also had no desire to sit down in a restaurant while her hair was a mess, her clothes were a simple pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. No, sitting down somewhere to eat in her current state didn’t sound good either. She also just wanted to get home as fast as she could. She looked around the busy street spotting a convenient store on a corner. Changing her direction a bit she made her way over to the little store happy to buy herself some food to heat up once home. It probably wouldn’t taste as good as her cooking but it seemed like the best idea.

With a second bag in hand now she walked out of the store. With the bag of food swaying with the bag of her scrubs she was taking home to wash. It seemed like such a peaceful afternoon but of course that didn’t last as she was walking down the street once again before the sounds of screams broke through the night air. The sound of crashing buildings filled the air. Her instincts kicked in and she found herself running towards the sounds of screaming and fighting. The noises were ones she was accustomed to hearing with her years of previous training before she turned to medicine instead. She rounded a corner to come face to face with a group of pro hero’s fighting with three weird looking creatures.

What the hell was she looking at? It looked like their brains were half exposed, one was flying, the other one on the ground was attacking the hero’s. Geez first Stain the hero killer was running around Hosu, now some weird monsters were running around attacking people and destroying buildings.

“Hey you get outta here this isn’t a safe place,” a man suddenly barked at her when she stopped to take in the situation.

“Hosu General hospital staff member Rin Nakano. Please let me add in evacuation and first aid,” she said, pulling out an ID card she kept around her neck from the hospital. The hero looked skeptical at the young woman but didn’t have the time or ability to argue with her at the moment.

“Fine but stay out of our way,” was the harsh reply she received. She bit her tongue trying not to say anything back as she simply yelled a simple yes sir and turned to start helping the bystanders that had been caught up at the start of the attack. She wasn’t surprised by the cold response she got from the hero. After all she looked like some simple bystander with an ID from the local hospital.

But she let it slide, not allowing the hero or his words to bother her as she rushed to help people who were still in the area. A bus was on fire as hero’s struggled to keep the fire at bay, and fight two monsters. A kid crying grabbed her attention as she ran over to the kid.

“Shhh it’s okay,” she said as she was kneeled down by the kid. A line of blood trickled down the kid's face. But the cut was visibly shallow but head wounds always bled a lot. She went to pick the kid up when a cry caught her attention.

“Look out!” Was all she heard as she turned to see the large blue looking monster towering over her and the kid. A fist flying towards them. She acted without thinking her body moving as she clapped her hands down to the ground watching a wall of cement fly up between her and the monster at least two feet thick. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop the beast after she watched it toss around pro hero’s like they were nothing. But all she needed was the second or two it would buy her. She didn’t even watch to see if the wall would hold as she turned and grabbed the kid before she kicked off the ground running for all she was worth. She could hear the crumple of the cement behind her. As her back was turned. That was all she needed to get away from the fist that had been aimed for her and the kid. But that didn’t stop the monster from giving chase. But she was able to buy enough time that some of the hero’s were able to jump in and attack the being pulling its attention away from the woman and the kid as she ran trying to get the kid away from the fighting. But where was safe? The kid was clinging to her and she could hear the little boys sobs over the noise of battle. His body shook in her hands as she held him close running away from the disaster.

“I’ve got you, do not worry everything will be okay,” she said trying to sooth the kid in her hands as she ran. She just needed to get the kid away from the battle before her pace slowed down. She looked around as police finally started to arrive. She ran up to a cop car handing over the poor kid before she turned ready to run back into the fray as she could hear explosions and the sounds of fighting continuing. But at least now more first responders were arriving on scene as she ran back to the fight. This time though as she approached the busy battlefield she continued to look for injured people. Spotting a middle aged man crumpled in the ground she ran towards him.

“Are you okay?” She asked softly as the man looked up at her before shaking his head and saying he was pretty sure his leg was broken. There was no way she would be able to lift the man up. Her best option in the heat of the moment she needed to heal his leg enough so he could stand on his own. She ripped the pant leg above the suspected break. Nothing broke through the skin which was a good sign. She placed her hands gently on the soft flesh of the man’s leg before activating her quirk. Healing the bone took only seconds.

“Can you stand?” She asked softly as soon as she was done. To which the man nodded his head and forced himself to his feet. There was still obvious pain but he was able to move on his own as she jumped to her feet leaving the man to run away on his own. A sudden gust of wind and dust suddenly whipped around her as she raised her arm to protect her face. It wasn’t till people started to cheer she lifted her eyes to take in the sight of the current number two hero Endeavor after having punched the beast sending it sliding back. She was in awe for a second like everyone else but she was quick to turn away and look around. A shiver ran up her back, she felt like someone was watching her? Her soft green eyes looked around but she couldn’t see anyone but the feeling was too strong to make her feel like it didn’t happen. The hairs on her arms and back of her neck stood up on end as she found herself rubbing her right hand up and down her left arm trying to sooth the shiver that ran over her body. Damn it now was not the time for this. She pushed the feeling away and once again started to help out the injured as other first aid responders showed up.

She continued to run around and help people. At some point she got chatting with some of the EMS workers she knew. They knew she was off duty but still thanked her for the help. So much for getting home. She didn’t even get to keep the dinner she bought by the time she started to walk home again. It had gotten dropped when she saved the kid. But now she was too exhausted to stop and get any more food. She had used her quirk a couple of times and after a day of work on top she felt drained. Her bed was calling her name and she didn’t even care about eating dinner any more, as she had been gone from home nearly twenty four hours and she didn’t even care to do anything other than sleep. And so that’s what she did, stomach empty she walked into her tiny apartment and headed to her bed. Stripping her filthy clothes she crawled into bed even though she still felt like eyes were watching her till she walked into her apartment. But she didn’t ponder it assuming maybe it was some journalist who had seen her at the scene of the fighting. It didn’t matter she was too exhausted to care as she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Her early morning alarm went off far too early when she turned it off and forced herself to roll out of bed. Her body felt heavy, she had not worked that hard in a long time. Her double shift was normal, but then running around for her life and helping injured people was not something she had done since she was in high school over four years ago training to be a hero.

Forcing herself up she headed to the little bathroom in her apartment to welcome a warm shower that she would have liked to have the night before had she not been so exhausted. Once she felt nice and refreshed she walked out of her shower wrapping a towel around her body. She whipped a hand over the fogged up mirror trying to take in the sight of her dull green eyes that were half open as she still felt so exhausted. Her bright red hair had water droplets dripping off the ends as the strands clung to her face and neck before settling down along her middle back. Her body still felt so heavy, but there was nothing she could do about her exhaustion. With that she left the bathroom and headed back to her room to toss on some sweats and a t-shirt before running a brush through her damp hair. She ran out of her apartment once she was dressed. She would need to stop at a convenience store again for some breakfast since she didn’t have time to cook anything as she found herself speed walking down the street to ensure she got to work as fast as possible.

After the battle last night she knew the hospital would be busy. And it was as a number of bystanders and heroes alike who were on the scene were still in the hospital being treated. Eating breakfast as she walked she made her way from room to room doing her job checking in on those who were stable and doing well. Surprisingly she found two hero students in one room when she delivered some less than perfect news to one of them. His left arm had some bad nerve damage. But a third bed had a clipboard at it meaning there were actually three of them in the room but the one had stepped out. She was curious as to why the kids were administered, she didn’t remember seeing them at the fight. But then again everything had been happening so fast she could have missed them and not even known it.

She would have liked to ask them if they were part of last night's fight but she knew it wasn’t the time or place as the dark haired boy was still processing the news of his nerve damage. She slipped silently from the room leaving the two boys to talk. Walking down the hall she was surprised to walk past another kid, like the others he appeared to be in his mid teens probably 15 or 16 at best, no probably younger looking at that round baby face he still sported. Dark green hair and bright green eyes shimmered as he limped past her on crutches. She assumed he was the third kid heading towards the room she had left. But she didn’t have the time to ponder over seeing poor kids hurt from the fighting. If they were gonna be heroes this would become a bit more of a norm for the kids in the future.

The day dragged on but she was happy that today she didn’t have to work a double shift again as it got back she was at the scene last night. And she found herself lucky enough to go home after her first shift not having to work another back to back shift. Her body and mind was thankful for the short work day. But she feared her wallet wouldn’t be as thankful with the lack of hours. But she didn’t argue as she took off her scrubs and headed home. The streets were fairly empty as it was between rush hours leaving only a few people here or there. But it made for a quick and easy walk home.

The days to follow were busy at first as the hospital continued to contain a number of injured heroes and civilians alike who had been caught in the middle of the attack on the city. But it felt like things were slowing down and returning to normal as people were slowly being released. But that didn’t stop the poor woman from being stuck working back to back shifts to the point where the woman was exhausted. Her one early day off had been nice but it had not lasted long before her exhaustion had returned. Her body was growing tired and sluggish as she dragged her feet home during the last evening after a long day of work. The streets were bare as the last trains had finished their travels and everyone was tucked away in their homes. Not having to take the train made it easy for Rin to work late since she could just walk home.

She never would have expected in her exhausted state to find herself suddenly wrenched off balance, stumbling to try and keep herself upright. The hand held tightly to her wrist as she felt herself being ripped along through the shadow of the alley. She winced as it felt like her shoulder was being ripped from her socket as she struggled to not fall to her knees and be dragged. She couldn’t even dig her heels into the ground till the body in front of her stopped. She gasped as pain shot through her as she was thrown against a wall. She coughed and gasped for air as the force of hitting the wall knocked the wind out of her. Her body started to crumple before that same hand that had ripped her into the alley grabbed the front of her shirt, hoisting her up and keeping her on her feet. She had to struggle to blink away the black dots that threatened to take over her vision as her head ached.

“I don’t know why the fuck he wants you,” came a deep growl. The tone sounded threatening as she picked her head up and froze as her eyes met the sharp blue eyes looking down at her. They were threatening, it felt like ice had pierced her. A shiver ran up her spine as she realized she was in trouble. Whoever this man was, he was dangerous. His eyes screamed that he was ready to rip her throat out the first chance he could. She didn’t have any idea what his words meant, someone wanted her? For what? And who? Those questions rushed through her mind but she couldn’t ponder them at this moment. Get away! That’s what she needed to do at that moment. Finding her feet under herself once again she let the adrenaline take over and her training take over. Her hand reached up one taking his wrist in a tight grip and with as much force as she mustered she grabbed at his thumb using it to bend his hand back hearing the sound of some of her shirt ripping as he had refused to let go. She watched pain shoot across his face as he stepped back and away, ripping his hand from her grip. She watched the corner of his lips twitch softly as if he enjoyed the little attempt to fight him off. In the rush of panic she barely had time to take in the sight of the man. Dark unkempt hair, scars covering nearly half his face with what looked like staples or some sort of piercing linked the good and burned skin together.

“Hmm bitch has some fight,” he hissed as he watched her quickly trying to inch away from him.

“Who are you?” She asked, her eyes watching him closely as she felt her tight body take a defensive stance as she glared at the man who didn’t seem bothered at all by the woman ready to try and fight him off. He struck her as a cocky bastard who would quickly look down at her or anyone he felt was beneath him. She was still ready to fight but the man seemed relaxed and unfazed as if he didn’t even see her as a threat. In some ways it irritated her, she hated men who looked down at her. She tried to keep her head calm and clear. Surely he was stronger than her if this came down to a battle of hand to hand combat and she also didn’t have an idea what the man’s quirk was. She needs to try and think of a way out of this situation, but how? He was blocking the only exit to the alley and it was clear that he was not going to let her just walk past him and leave.

“Come with me and all your questions will be answered,” was the simple reply he gave her as he stood back watching her. He didn’t appear to be incredibly tall, surely he wasn’t even a head taller than her 164 cm form. But still although he looked calm his bright blue eyes held a shimmer of something that just screamed. Try anything and I’ll kill you. A shiver ran up her back at the thought of what he may be willing to do to make sure she did not leave this alley.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she hissed watching him closely as he simply shrugged his shoulders and the corner of his lips tugged up as if he was looking forward to being able to get rough with her now that she refused to just go with him.

“Alright then don’t blame me if you get hurt little mouse,” he said as his right hand reached out and she watched blue flames lap up from the palms of his hand. Oh fuck! was the first thing that crossed her mind as her eyes grew wide. This was a quirk she was not well suited to fight against. She probably could have had at least a slim chance if she was fighting him hand to hand but now she knew she couldn’t take him on in a close range combat fight.

She slowly tried to inch away sliding her feet back away and put more distance between her and him. Which didn’t work well as he was just as eager to step towards her every time she stepped back. Her best bet was to gather as much water from the air around her but still that would take time. But if she could protect herself with some water it would help. She had to try something and see if she could get past him. Her stance quickly changed from defensive to offensive as she found herself quickly backed into a corner. Fighting was her only option. She needed to try and remember her training on how to take on an opponent who was stronger than her. She was quick to step in towards him, closing the gap as she kept a close eye on his right hand that had produced the blue flames moments earlier. Her punch was blocked with ease, hell there was barely any power behind it. Her body was too sore and fighting hand to hand had never been her strong suit either. There was no way she was going to be able to even get past him. She could feel panic washing over her and her brain seemed to shut down as she suddenly jumped back from him and tried to just dash past him. An arm simply wrapped around her waist and before she could even say anything she found herself being hoisted up and over his shoulder as if she was a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down,” she growled, banging her fists against his back as her legs kicked out before another hand grabbed the back of her knees keeping her upper legs pinned to his chest making it too hard to kick him in the face.

“No can do princess, the boss wants you so it’s you I need to take back with me,” he said simply before he started to walk out of the alley sticking to the shadows before slipping into another one. The streets were empty but even the odd person who did happen to see the duo was surely too scared to approach and try to help. After all the man with all the burn scars was a rather intimidating sight with his hard blue eyes and scars. Her body grew limp as she stopped fighting him as he carried her like a sack of potatoes. Her long hair falling down around her face as she just gave in. In the end all she could do was huff and curse at the man as he carried her swiftly through the city before approaching an abandoned looking warehouse.

She looked over her shoulder as they approached the building before he walked in. The main area was fairly large with a couple of large boxes and crates here or there. But most of the space seemed open and empty aside from a number of people scattered about the room.

“Oh look Dabi is back!” A high pitched excited voice called out as the duo walked into the building. Rin’s green eyes glanced over to see the sight of a young girl sitting on a crate with her legs swaying as she looked over at the duo with a wide toothy grin. What the fuck the girl looked like she was a kid. What was she doing with a group like this? Rin wanted to ask but then again a crazy look in the girl's eye made her feel incredibly uneasy as she watched the kid start to ramble about how excited she was to see another woman in the group.

“Alright I brought the woman like you requested,” Dabi said before he suddenly dropped the woman onto the hard cement floor.

“Ow what the fuck,” she hissed as she sat on her ass glaring up at the man who had just dropped her.

“What the fuck was that for?” She asked, glaring as she pushed herself up to her feet as she glared up at him getting right into his face, pissed off that he had just suddenly dropped her like that, “you shouldn’t man handle a lady like that.”

“What lady? I just see a helpless little mouse,” he said, smirking down at her enjoying the sight of her getting irritated and pissed off with him.

“Why you arrogant,” she growled, mumbling to herself as she tried to make herself stand tall, refusing to back down. Well as tall as she could as her 164 cm stature didn’t exactly make her tall compared to the man who seemed roughly 179 maybe 180cm . That is till someone suddenly cleared their throat drew the two's attention over to a man. Well was he really a man? It looked like a cloud of smoke in a suit. Turning around to look at the people around her Rin took in the view of the two men standing side by side. Beside the black cloud stood a man with…. was that a hand on his face? Yes it was. The thought sent a shiver down her back.

“Are you Miss Rin Nakano?” The cloud of smoke called out as all the eyes seemed to be lingering on her. Why was it she suddenly felt the need to hide behind the man who had dragged her into the building.

“Nope sorry you have the wrong woman,” she said trying to get out of whatever situation she was currently in.

“Really cause your ID here says you are,” came the deep voice behind her as she suddenly gasping for air as the strap of material of her lanyard around her neck was pulled backwards digging the material into her neck forcing the ID card she usually kept tucked in her shirt to be visible and readable now as her airway was cut off. Her hands clawed at her neck and the ID card trying to pry the material from her neck as she stumbled back till she hit a hard chest.

“Dabi!” A scratchy voice called out, stopping the man from continuing to choke her with her own lanyard that sat around her neck. The voice that called out and made Dabi stop sounded like someone who hadn’t had a glass of water in years and their throat was raw and sore. She was almost thankful as she gasped and inhaled a lung full of much needed air till she heard the voice continue, “we need her alive. No killing her.”

Her green eyes looked over to look towards the owner of the voice to find it was the man with the hand up against his face. His fingers were scratching at the skin of neck as he had been talking. All the while she heard Dabi click his tongue off the back of his teeth, unhappy with the order to not kill her. She wasn’t about to argue as she struggled not to cough as she stepped away from Dabi trying to stay outside of the man’s reach.

“Rin Nakano. 22 years old, fresh from college. You’ve been employed at the Hosu general hospital for the last 8 months after a short term as a side kick at some third rate hero agency. You have no current living close relatives, your grades had not been enough to get into a top tier hero high school or college. But you still got your license. They called you the Alchemist. But it seemed for some reason you dropped out of being a pro hero and moved yourself into the healthcare system,” the cloud of smoke started to list off what she found to be some rather personal information. Her eyes became slits as she glared at the cloud of smoke, not happy with the idea a villain had been able to learn so much about her.

“It seems someone has done their homework,” she growled softly even though no one in the building seemed intimidated by the short woman or her temper.

“Awe she seems like she would be lots of fun to play with. Can I cut her up?” The childish voice called out. Yep Rin was correct. The girl was crazy as she held up a knife and looked at the older woman with a scary hunger in her eyes.

“If I’m not allowed to kill her you're not allowed to cut her up,” snapped Dabi who was still standing behind her.

“Enough! With her training in the hospital she fills in the spot of someone who can heal that we really need. Dabi you will watch over her. Try not to kill her,” the scratchy voice called out as if the woman wasn’t even standing before him.

“Who said I was going to help you guys? I refuse to do anything for the League of Villains,” she growled softly as she watched a red eye flash at her from between the index and middle finger of the hand sitting on the man’s face hiding the rest of him from view.

“Then we will kill you and find someone else!” Was the low reply she got from the man before he continued his threat, “surely you wouldn’t want that.”

Rin was forced to clench her teeth as she glared at the man. She knew very well they had done their homework. They knew of her past, the loss of her parents, the death of a hero she worked with. Why she changed over to work in a hospital and quit being a hero. She felt responsible for every death that happened around her and her conscience wouldn’t allow her to not follow their order knowing they would just drag some other poor soul into this mess and away from their family. She didn’t have a family to miss her, no one who would suffer the consequences of her actions but herself. She slowly exhaled a deep breath trying to calm herself down as her shoulders dropped but her face remained hard as she glared at him. Getting her point across she did not like this nor was she going to just willingly agree to help them. But she also wasn’t about to let them kill her either.

“I am not going to help you kill people,” she hissed softly trying to stand her ground and inform the man she was not going to just become a willing partner for the League of Villains and run around killing people. She would rather be kept a semi willing prisoner than become a villain.

Next Chapter

#bnha dabi #dabi #todoroki touya #Dabi smut #dabi x oc #bnha #boku no hero #bnha smut #my hero academia #mha #own character #cross posted on ao3

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mercuryhaze · 7 months ago

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MUN INTRO: hey! my name's peyton [th/th, cst, 21+] & i'll be writing for sverre olsen, lee hyeon, selena palacio & dylan hwang here. you can find me on discord @ #seamonkeydefender & please feel free to add me w/o asking as well! discord is my preferred plotting method. all of my characters are on sideblogs aside from sverre, so i will be dming from @portra400s when necessary... hehe

CHARA INTRO: next up, dylan hwang. he's a 27yr old yuseong bay native, though his heart's not entirely here & he's only recently come back. he's the manager of ojo records and a "rockstar" (used loosely) on hiatus. you can view his stats here & his pinterest here if interested!

answer the following prompts, either ooc or ic!

when did your muse first arrive in yuseong bay?: in general, 20+ years ago. dylan was born & raised in santa monica, ca, usa, but spent summers in yuseong bay with his maternal grandparents & then relocated to yuseong bay with his mom when he was about 14. lived in the area until he was 19, then moved to seoul. moved back to yuseong bay in late january 2024 to take some time to focus on himself/his physical & mental health.

what does an average day look like for your muse?: wake up, tend to his pet rats, go to work around 10:20am / open the shop by 11am, work until 6:30pm, get dinner, find something social to do for a while (or skip this step), go home, tend to his pet rats, chill, do chores, chill, kiss his rats goodnight, go to bed.

where can your muse usually be found?: first and foremost, ojo records. as the manager & one of two employees, he's pretty much always there. his favorite post-work hangout is pierrot lanes, where he either hangs around the pool tables to hustle anyone who doesn't know better or plays some of the more classic arcade games. hangs out at 88& bar more than he ought to as someone who's trying to quit drinking, but still not as often as you'd think—maybe two nights a week. stops by memoire antiques every weekend, usually around noon on either saturday or sunday. sometimes goes through stints where he won't be seen anyone other than work, as he'll be rotting in bed for the rest of his time. usually tries to stay busy.

how does your muse feel about hanwha resort?: it's complicated.

is there an aspiration for your muse to stay in or leave yuseong bay?: on one hand, yuseong bay is his hometown & where all of his remaining family is located.... on the other, it's a little too quiet for him. but at this moment in time, he's staying in yuseong bay to "reconnect with his roots", take it slow and try to take on a healthier lifestyle, as the way he was living in seoul turned him into a candle burning at both ends & he'll be in yuseong bay until he feels like that's become a more stable and mature person.

answer the following, ooc!

list your muse's three favorite songs: california dreamin' by the mamas and the papas, big jet plane by angus & julia stone, (don't fear) the reaper by blue oyster cult; a fan of songs that sound "nostalgic" and/or vaguely threatening.

describe your muse's style: eclectic; a big fan of streetwear, collects brands such as nike, vans, chinatown market, stray rats, thisisneverthat, etc. likes bright colors (mainly green, blue, red) and interesting fabrics such as corduroy and sherpa. has his nails painted almost all the time.

color, word, and emoji to describe your muse: prussian blue, "electric", 🛹

three strong likes and dislikes for your muse: really likes clowns, history, fresh baked snickerdoodle cookies / really doesn't like people who disagree with him on certain musical opinions, his mom nagging at him to cut his hair when it's already short enough as is, bars that don't allow tabs.

three positive and negative traits for your muse: positive humorous, enthusiastic, adventurous / negative avoidant, self-critical, over-indulgent.

three talents and shortcomings for your muse: good at coming up with things on the spot/making split-second decisions, knows a handful of magic tricks, stupidly good at "rasputin" in just dance / poor conflict resolution skills, holds himself to very low standards, can't cook decent steak no matter how hard he tries.

what is a book/tv series/movie/video game character that you feel your character relates to?: he's inspired a bit by jonah simms from superstore & nick miller from newgirl, so do with that what you will.

a relevant goal or arch for your character to overcome: for starters, dylan is a man who never made peace with the loss of his father, which happened fourteen years ago now so hopefully being with his family again/taking a break from his fast-paced lifestyle will help him kind of heal??? TW ALCOHOLISM he's also trying to get sober because in general he has an addictive personality and should really quit before it gets any worse than it already is and also he experienced alcohol poisoning and that shit is no joke. so yeah... get sober! END TW

ADDITIONAL INFO.

dylan is the founder, frontman & lead guitarist of a band interchangeably called both haze & through the haze, which he started when he was 19, shortly after he moved to seoul. their main inspirations are cited as being the cocteau twins & blue oyster cult. they never got to the point of being a widely known name, but they're performed at various indie rock festivals nationwide. currently on an indefinite hiatus as dylan decided to take some time to focus on himself & get healthy, which is nice and all, but the rest of the band's kinda pissed 'cause they've been fighting to get a record deal, they finally got one and dylan blew it off. their discography draws from the likes of silica gel, thornapple, hyukoh & the black skirts.

he's from santa monica, california, where he was born and raised for the first 14 years of his life, but he spent summers in yuseong bay with his maternal grandparents. his dad passed away in late 2009, and in early 2010, dylan, his sister, his mother, and his uncle richie (his dad's brother) all relocated to yuseong bay permanently.

dylan's mom opened a hair salon in the area, which she still owns and works at to this day. dylan's sister works there with her, and dylan briefly worked there when he was 18-19 (despite not being licensed lmfao). every now and then he'll pop in to help still.

dylan moved to seoul in 2016, where he resided with only one or two visits to yuseong bay a year up until he moved back in january 2024.

is now the manager of ojo records! the job was absolutely handed to him, as his uncle richie is a good friend of the owner & dylan spent a good amount of time with the two of them while he was growing up. but despite getting handed the job, he is actually a dedicated manager.

he skateboards & is good at it, but falls a lot because he always wants to be better and achieve more. often scraped up.

lives alone with his two pet rats. somewhat of a hoarder. not intervention-level yet, but it could probably get to that point if he's not careful. collects objects to fill his emotional void.

#yshqs:intro

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moochilatv · 6 months ago

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Chris Portka presents: A Candle is a Raging Fire!

Debut single released in the winter of 2020

The artist said:

Lockdown, bullshit, etc. I was tired, we were all tired, but this song had been 37 years in the making.

I've been playing music since I was a teenager and now I finally release this song as a proper debut single. I wrote it in 2019 while travelling through India with my fiancé on a trip for her textile / fashion business (pre-COVID times). I also wrote and recorded the music to a series of documentary videos she made while we were in India for her brand Seek Collective (this instrumental music was released as my EP "Soundtracks I").

But this song is much more personal and reflects the long, multi-decade struggle I've had with music. My parents were never supportive of my musical ambitions and actively discouraged me from pursuing music as a career. So I've struggled to make my way through jobs in the tech world - all while keeping the hope alive that someday I'd become a musician.

I've always loved guitar, piano, writing songs, and jamming with friends - but my biggest fear in the world was always singing. It's been my major roadblock to releasing and playing music throughout my life. So 6 years ago I got serious and met a Voice Movement Therapist named Julia Norton who helped me slowly be able to use my voice and sing in front of people. I now practice vocal exercises every day and regularly played at coffee shops in the bay area (before quarantine anyway). That's a long way of saying the lyrics of the song are about this candle - the hope, dream, and wish which I've always held for a life in music. I hope it also reflects the secret desires we hold in our hearts for what we truly want in this life.

youtube

The song was mixed by Jasper Leach of @jplrecordings (on Instagram) who also played the organ, tambourine, and some backup vocals. I played, wrote, and composed the rest of the music.

The song was mastered by Christian Wright at Abbey Road Studios.

Chris Portka is an artist and musician based in California's bay area, defying norms with a unique fusion of harsh trash sound and ethereal glitch rock. His music strikes a careful balance between raw and refined.

#Chris Portk #Youtube

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 years ago

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By: Joseph (Jake) Klein

Published: Apr 13, 2023

Segregation has a new brand name: racial “affinity groups.” Race-based “affinity groups” have exploded in prevalence across the United States over the last few years, moving from workplaces into schools, religious congregations, and other organizations all across the country. Affinity groups can also be organized around other identity categories such as gender, sexuality, disability, and religion, but affinity groups were first created around racial identity.

In 1969, Xerox employees based in San Francisco launched the Bay Area Black Employees (BABE) caucus, the first known workplace affinity group ("caucus," "employee resource group," and "affinity group," are all terms that have been used to describe the same idea). Overall, Xerox's chairman at the time, Joseph C. Wilson, was an important leader in driving workplace integration. He reacted to race riots in the 1960's with a mission to increase integration and hire African-Americans who had previously been denied employment opportunities, and took numerous concrete actions to do so.

However, as has happened on numerous occasions to other well-intentioned leaders (including in response to other 1960’s race-riots), Wilson chose to take advice not just from integration-oriented civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., but from the Black Power activists responsible for the riots. Wilson enlisted the counsel of a group called “F.I.G.H.T.” While much of F.I.G.H.T.’s activism was productive and aimed at pushing back on genuine and oppressive racism, it was also a “decidedly militant” organization that “alienated much of the black middle class” and worked closely with the explicitly anti-integrationist founder of the Black Power movement, Stokely Carmichael.

Today, more than 50 years later, affinity groups have spread to 90% of Fortune 500 companies. These companies sometimes claim that racial affinity groups help foster communication and help bring new ideas to leadership. Corporations also point out that membership in racial affinity groups is usually voluntary, and therefore it cannot be a form of racial discrimination as banned under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

However, despite these claimed positives, many corporations have also found that affinity groups polarize employees, and many people of color are reluctant to join such groups for “fear of being reduced to their racial identity.” Even when they are organized and advertised as voluntary, the social pressures on individuals to join racial affinity groups are substantial. And although some data supports companies’ intuitions that affinity groups are helpful idea generators, these positive results may be better explained by the existence of a group creating increased discussion time, rather than the racial makeup of that group.

With affinity groups’ recent spread throughout K-12 schools, higher education, religious groups, and many other key institutions throughout our society, we face an even worse danger. While businesses are beholden to the profit motive, schools and other non-profit institutions are not. This creates more opportunities for affinity groups in non-profit institutions to advance a fanatical ideology, since organizational leadership doesn't need to worry, as businesses do, about the possibility that a Marxist ideological agenda would compromise their ability to operate in a financially viable manner.

Advocates of racial affinity groups claim they are not racist or segregationist, but do so while practicing racial segregation and making explicitly racist claims. For example, Truss Leadership, a so-called “racial equity” consulting group that works with numerous school districts, declares that “Racial Affinity Groups are NOT … Racist or segregationist,” but also says they are a place where white people can “reckon with their Whiteness” and non-white people can “take care of themselves and one another…in the absence of Whiteness.”

FAIR ally Ye Zhang Pogue has written beautifully for this Substack on how affinity groups in schools can harm our society by needlessly pitting people against each other along racial lines. What advocates of affinity groups often ignore is how prejudice and discrimination is often caused by diminished contact between groups, and can be overcome by increasing that contact and having group members work cooperatively instead of separately (one of psychologist Gordon Allport’s four conditions for reducing racial prejudice). This insight into the power of contact is the same idea that has driven FAIR Senior Fellow Daryl Davis’s pioneering efforts to get Klan members and neo-Nazis to give up their lives of hate.

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Even racial affinity groups' most extreme and vocal advocates have acknowledged that “Caucusing can generate anxiety even at a visceral level for some. For people of color, history has shown that real harm can come from spaces exclusively reserved for white people. … People of color may also experience racial anxiety and stereotype threat, the fear of being viewed through societal stereotype ‘lenses’ by white colleagues and supervisors.” These are not ungrounded fears. Corporations seeking to pursue effective anti-racist strategies would do well to remember the horrors of the interoffice segregation of America’s past.

Segregation in the form of racial affinity groups today is disturbingly similar in concept to the separate bathrooms, water fountains, bus sections, and other spaces in generations past. Then as now, we ought to remember the worldchanging verdict from Brown v. Board of Education, that “Separate [is] inherently unequal.” As Supreme Court Chief Justice Fred M. Vincent explained in the Court’s also unanimous decision for McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regents, which was cited in Brown v. Board of Education, “To separate [children] from others of similar age and qualifications solely because of their race generates a feeling of inferiority as to their status in the community that may affect their-hearts and minds in a way unlikely ever to be undone.”

The KKK must be beaming with pride at the outright enthusiasm of re-implementating segregation.

Were it discovered that they were shadow-funding this, I would be incapable of feigning any amount of surprise.

Wokeness divides and destroys.

EDIT:

That's so weird. We keep being told that "cRt iS nOt iN sChOoLs." And yet, here we find out that not only is it in schools, but it's a good thing, because "opposing" - as ominous, authoritarian, and nigh on DiAngelo-istic choice of words as I've ever heard - is wrong. Gee, when did that happen? They must have done that really quickly. /s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YM2JvQVXWQg

"DiAngelo's essay doesn't talk about disagreements or debates, but only about those who 'practice' social justice, and those who, quote, 'resist' it."

To actually tell people "[not to] entertain this blog or its opinions" or "don't read the post" has really strong religious blasphemy overtones. Like the priest telling the congregation not to read Harry Potter.

Still, the very first thing the kids do when they get home from church after being told not to read Harry Potter is to read Harry Potter. So sermonizing people on how to close their ears to maintain their moral purity usually doesn't work out that well for the clergy. So, thank you for dangling an irresistible temptation for them, like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden..

P.S. Opposing gay conversion therapy and child mutilation is a hill I'm willing to die on. Line in the sand. Pretty comfortable there. The latter, at least, used to be a self-evident taboo: you don't tattoo kids, you don't cut children's testicles or breasts off, you don't drug girls by flooding their bodies with quantities of hormones their body is not equipped to handle so they're balding and infertile at 16. Despite pretence to the contrary, these positions aren't the slightest bit controversial.

#Joseph Klein #Jake Klein #segregation #separate but equal #neoracism #antiracism #antiracism as religion #affinity groups #critical race theory #whiteness #whiteness studies #woke #wokeism #cult of woke #wokeness #wokeness as religion #religion is a mental illness

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misterradio · 10 months ago

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while looking up angels i saw this shop and im amazed how much stuff they have !?!??????!!!!???? and everything is cool as f--k. mind blown.

#specifically while looking up chalkydri which ive never heard of before but they sound cool.#original nonsense

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linnorabeifong · 1 year ago

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"I'll Be Waiting"

Summary: “Her eyes are a soft color. A delicate green like the expensive jade bracelets all the heiresses of the Earth Kingdom wear. He loved the sound those bracelets made as they rattled against each other and jingled softly. He decided then that he liked her too.”

Notes: What do y'all think ? I kind of wanted to write some cute teenage LinZolt and write about dancing because of my own background. Also how would you feel, about smutty chapters later ? What direction should I take this happy ending or sad ending ? Also I want to flesh out Ember Island, and establish it as having it's own unique culture and dialect. How do we feel about some French-speaking LinZolt ? (translations will be provided of course).

Critiques: Do y'all have constructive criticism ? I'm still developing my sense of style and I have no writing experience and have never taken a creative writing course in my life so I need all the help I can get.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51405040

Chapter 1:

Kenzo or as his friends liked to call him “Zolt '' was new to Little Caldera. Frankly, he never imagined himself living in such a nice area. Solidly middle class, with the best schools and entertainment to be found in Republic City. Unlike the other boroughs every shop, residence and school there had electricity. Located just on the cusp of old cranefish town, and just outside of downtown, it was a short walk from Yue Bay. The harbor brought in all sorts of business. Little Caldera had a special character to it, its own unique appeal. Spotless and crime free but with great nightlife. High end restaurants and cheap seafood were both in abundance. Contradictory. Perfect. Well, nearly perfect but Caldera’s flaws didn’t touch the likes of Zolt.

Through some stroke of luck his mother managed to find a job as a dance instructor. The position came with lodging right above the studio. It was a small space but more luxurious than either of them had known previously. Two closet-sized bedrooms, a kitchen that was more of a hallway and an entry way that just barely managed to fit a genkan, coat closet and an armchair.

The apartment while small was by no stretch of the imagination shabby. It was well maintained despite its age. The walls were freshly painted and papered. The entryway in a rich cream, the kitchen was a sunny yellow, the bedrooms sported white and crimson wallpaper with a sun motif. They had real hardwood floors. The kitchen appliances were brand new, and for the first time in his life Zolt experienced the pleasure and convenience of an ice box.

They even had their own private bathroom, which was surprisingly large compared to the other rooms. The toilet portion was walled off from the bathing area and the sink stood in between the two. The bath was wonderfully deep, made to be soaked in. To his surprise, the first night he spent in the apartment and drew himself a bath the water heater actually worked. He had discovered this when he reflexively heated up the water with his bending and nearly boiled himself like a dumpling. At his previous home the promise to repair the heater was never actually met. Over the years he had taught himself to warm the water, a skill he no longer needed here.

Every day he discovered a new luxury. The apartment even had underfloor heating, his need for slippers was gone. Despite the lessons going on at all hours of the day and night below them and their close proximity to their neighbors it was surprisingly quiet. The thick walls muffled the sound.

The views were perfect. The windows were large and spilled in bright wonderful light, only obstructed by the glorious shade of the Sakura trees planted all over his neighborhood. From the kitchen he could take in the view of the perfectly manicured street in front of the studio. His bedroom had an especially nice view. Behind the studio there was the nicest apartment building he had ever seen. It was built in a u-shape around a huge courtyard, complete with a fountain, pool, turtleduck pond, rose garden and a playground. It stood five stories tall and was built in a traditional style. The countless balconies were all decorated with paper lanterns and fire lilies. The fire escapes would actually be handy in case of emergency, unlike the rusted ones he knew. He had never seen the Imperial Palace of the fire lord, but he imagined it to look just like this, elegant and overflowing with flowers. It was his newfound vision of paradise.

The end of summer was fast approaching, but he still needed something to fill the last of the golden weeks with. He ends up brushing up on his dancing skills, not that he needed to, he was a natural. His mother had made sure of that. Before he could walk, he could dance. Since toddlerhood he had studied every type there was, from the Fire Nation to the Water Tribes. He was well versed in traditional and contemporary forms. His technique was precise, he was fluid, a master of the countless skills each genre demanded. The head of the studio quickly figures this out and offers him a deal. He signs on as a student teacher, requiring him to be at the studio at least twice a week. In exchange he receives free lessons, and they’ll cover his private school tuition. His mother is overjoyed at the thought of sending him to “Avatar Roku High School” -the best in the city. She squeals in delight when he takes the offer. His summer was very quickly filled with rehearsals, costume fittings, lessons and performances.

He’d taught groups before but this is his first time teaching a private lesson. For the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. What did Asuka say it was ? It had an “r” in it somewhere. The girl is staring at her form in the mirror, warming up. He assesses her. She is a sleek little thing, like a cat strutting through an alleyway at night. Her skirt is red and has a slit making it easier to see her motion. Her tiny top matches it and reveals her abdomen. Judging by her curvy build and outfit she must be from Ember Island like him. She’s practicing her fa’arapu. Tui and La, she has the speed down. She’s nearly perfect. He can easily fix this.

He approaches her and introduces himself, he encourages her to continue warming up. After a while he comes up behind her. She stops, he places one hand on her stomach and the other on one of her delicate shoulders. “You’ve got the motion, muscle control and the flexibility. You're just stiff and your posture is bad. You're tucking in your spine like this” he says demonstrating. “ and you’re hunching your shoulders, like you’re trying to make yourself smaller” he explains as he gently adjusts her position. There, now she’s perfect. “Don’t do that, you’re a pretty girl. Have some confidence” he continued. He didn’t mean to say that last part out loud.

He looks up into the mirror, taking in her face for the first time. She really is a pretty girl. Her cheeks are flushed pink, she is biting her lip. It is a cute nervous habit, it makes her lips even redder.

He catches her gaze in the mirror. Her eyes are a soft color. A delicate green like the expensive jade bracelets all the heiresses of the Earth Kingdom wear. He loved the sound those bracelets made as they rattled against each other and jingled softly. He decided then that he liked her too.

#legend of korra #lin beifong #lightning bolt zolt #linzolt #ao3 #meet cute #dancing #francais #french language

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forfamily · 1 year ago

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Given the size of Bianca's turf, I realized she'd need more than three capos to run it all, so I revamped a lot of things. Now, I may not ever write a number of them, but I do like to have the info on hand as it adds more depth. And I'm always a slut for deeper lore. Please remember that this is just how I visualize Bibi's turf/gang/whathaveyou and her rivals. I will not force this on others, especially those who are part of Passione and whom I interact with.

The city has ancient churches, narrow artistic streets, imposing palaces, and unique underground landscapes, many of which are situated within Zeppeli's turf. Naples is broken down into thirty quarters which are then grouped together into ten governmental community boards for administrative purposes. Zeppeli controls four of these administrative areas, for a total of nine quarters; these are marked in red above. Thus Zeppeli has eight capos, one assigned to each quarter with their share of soldiers. Now, you might be asking, Nana, you said there are nine quarters, so why only eight capos? Posillipo is watched over by Zeppeli's Underboss, Dante, himself.

1st municipality of Naples Posillipo An affluent residential quarter, located along the northern coast of the Gulf of Naples. Rocky, it is 6km (just over 3 miles) long and surrounded by cliffs with a few coves with breakwaters at the western end of the Bay of Naples. The stronghold of Zeppeli, palazzo Beatrice, is located here on the cliffs and is one of the safest properties within Napoli. Unless a certain spicy vampire is present in a particular verse. Chiaia An affluent neighborhood on the seafront, bound by Piazza Vittoria on the east and Mergellina on the west; one the wealthiest districts in Naples, with many luxury branded shops on its main street. It's also home to a business school, medical school, and a number of other public schools. A landmark is the large public park known as the Villa Comunale, developed in the late 16th and 17th centuries. San Ferdinando A southern district that includes the Royal Palace, Piazza del Plebiscito- the most celebrated square in Naples, the San Carlo opera house, and the church of San Ferdinando, from which the district is named.

5th municipality of Naples Arenella Sitting on Vomero Hill, above the city, and near the main hospital section, many years ago it was considered a place to "get away from it all". Vomero Up on a hilltop accessed by funicular, upscale, leafy, and dotted with gelaterias, alfresco cafes, and refined Italian restaurants; both chain and department stores cluster around Piazza Vanvitelli.

9th municipality of Naples Pianura Bound on one side by Soccavo and the other by the town of Pozzuoli, it's a lively residential area with archaeological sites like Roman mausoleums, and a Roman villa. Pizzaerias, dessert shops, and bars are in the historic center, where the 13th-century Church of San Giorgio stands in the main square. Bargain hunters often hit up the Mercatopoli Napoli Pianura thrift market. Soccavo A western quarter, bounded on one side by the area of Fuorigrotta and the other by the Camaldoli hill; at the base of the hill is a historic quarry, which gives its name to the area. While it's technically a division of Pozzuoli and not Naples, it was included within the administrative limits of Naples when it started being developed as a residential neighborhood in the 1920s.

10th municipality of Naples Bagnoli Beyond the confines of the original city, it's beyond Cape Posillipo, thus looking over the coast of the Bay of Pozzuoli. The North Warf is the longest promenade in Europe, while Città della Scienza is an interactive science museum for adults and children. Between the Astroni Reserve, which sits an extinct volcano, and the archaeological Terme area, there is Ippodromo di Agnano, the biggest racecourse in Italy and one of the oldest in Europe. Fuorigrotta Beyond Posillipo Hill, it is the most populated suburb of Naples, housing the San Paolo Stadium. There is a Roman bath, the Vesuvian Observatory, the oldest volcanological observatory in the world, and the Naples Zoo.

Within these quarters is Zeppeli's legitimate businesses: Restaurants, cafes, pizzerias, laundrettes, and nightclubs. Chiaia is the location of the five-star hotel, Beatrice; much like the palazzo was named for Bianca's grandmother, so too was Zeppeli's hotel chain, the first opening in Napoli back in the 50s. There is a Hotel Beatrice in New York, London, Tokyo, and Singapore, by 2001.

Of course, among all the glistening glamor, there is also the seedy underbelly of Zeppeli. Gambling dens, fight clubs, and whorehouses. But we'll get more into that later.

#;headcanons #;the famiglia

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downwiththeficness · 1 year ago

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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Four

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~3600

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

The SUV was cruising at speed down the interstate. It wouldn’t be long before the city fell away and everything around them would be either farmland or swamp. Eva sat in the back seat, staring out the window. Alexei was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other supporting his weight on the middle console. Josh was directly ahead of her. They were all listening to a local music station that occasionally cut out with dry static.

She was bored. Had been since they left the house. Neither Alexei nor Josh were saying anything to her and she didn’t know why they invited her along.

The destination—the lab—was remote, far away from Ardent Pharmaceuticals’ corporate offices. On paper, the building was mostly storage. And, from the outside looking in, that’s exactly what it was. Most people wouldn’t even notice the trap door to the right of the entrance. The stairs beneath led down to a smaller room with all of the most up to date technology for chemical engineering.

It was here that Josh’s real passion in life took place.

Eva might be good at math, but Josh was an absolute genius when it came to pharmaceutical innovation. All of his wealth stemmed from improving drugs that were popular with his clients, skimming past FDA approval by selling them under the table to every doctor and pharmacist in the surrounding area under the guise of ‘samples’. What most of their customer base didn’t know was that Josh’s improvements made what they thought was a standard formula pill into something more addictive with a high that couldn’t be matched by other brands.

It wasn’t as clean an operation as Eva liked. There were plenty of things that could get them caught and this new expansion was definitely one of them. Their distributor for the raw materials was consistent and she hadn’t noticed any shortages as of late. They didn’t need another resource for getting the raw chemicals needed to make Josh’s ‘special blend’. It made Josh’s decision to add another business partner into the mix that much more suspect.

She hadn’t seen him since that disastrous meeting, but every once in a while she would catch his scent as it faded from a room he’d been in. Eva took those opportunities to breathe deeply in an attempt to immunize herself against the feelings that scent evoked. She hoped that their next meeting would go better than the last, that her body wouldn’t betray her again.

Alexei made the turn onto the unnamed road leading to the lab with the comfort of someone who had made that turn over and over. The building rose up into view, looming darkly on the horizon. Eva watched it grow until Alexei pulled the car to a stop in the small parking lot.

Josh got out of the SUV and headed for the door, his keys jingling in his hand. Alexei cut the engine and followed wordlessly. Eva sighed as she opened the door and stepped out, as well. As she shut the door behind her, Eva was glad that she chose flats for the day instead of a pair of heels. There was no telling how long Josh would tinker around in his personal lab and places to sit were few and far between.

Eva was halfway to the door when the sound of tires rolling over asphalt got her attention. She turned and shielded her eyes with her hand as she peered out towards the main road. A sleek, black car hurtled towards them at a speed that was dangerously fast. It swung around in the parking lot, stopping cross ways over three spots not far from the SUV.

Who the fuck parks like that?

From behind her, Alexei approached. Towering over her, he followed Eva’s gaze as two people stood from the car.

“I thought they would have more trouble finding the place,” he murmured.

She almost asked him who they were, but her eyes adjusted to the distance and she no longer had to ask. Mr. Jimenez was sauntering towards them in a leather jacket, black t shirt and flared jeans. His booted feet took their time about crossing the lot, as if he had nowhere else to be.

Behind him, another man was following. He swiped at his mustache, fingers catching a cigarette and flicking it away. A plume of smoke wafted from a mouth that was set into a thin line.

Eva realized that she was staring and dropped her gaze. Blinking rapidly, she turned and went inside. They weren’t here for her, anyway. Glad for the air conditioning that kept their excess raw chemicals stable, she moved to stand a little ways away from the door to the basement. It was open, Josh waiting for no one to get to work.

Alexei’s body darkened the doorway. Their guests followed. None of them spared her a glance before they descended into Josh’s lab. Eva held her breath all the same. When they were gone, she let it out in a loud huff. She could not believe she was still attracted to him when he was dressed like such an asshole.

Now she understood why Bobbi Lynn’s husband referred to him as ‘new money’. Every piece of clothing on his body was designer, probably down to his socks. Add to it the obviously massive ego he carried in every step he took and Mr. Jimenez looked nothing short of gauche.

Underneath the clothes and the attitude and the way he looked down his nose at people was a man that Eva found wholly enthralling. The feeling made her hands clench with the need to curl into his hair. It made her mouth want to purse for a kiss.

Which was fucking ridiculous.

She was an adult. A married woman.

Maybe she got a bad batch from Bobbi Lynn—no, this started before she started taking the newer pills. Maybe she was sick. But, she didn’t feel sick. If anything, Eva felt entirely too healthy. Her body felt stronger. For the first time since she left her childhood home, she slept through the night without waking. Rose from her bed without the hangover of a restless night. Her mind was sharper, moved through decisions and equations effortlessly. And, more than anything, Eva was aware of her surroundings.

It was as if she put on glasses for the first time and the whole world suddenly came into focus. For years, she passed through life barely taking note of anything that wasn’t directly related to her survival. Now, she was doing things like lingering in the shower to feel the heat of the water. Or, putting on music while she cleaned. Just that morning, she actually leaned forward and smell the bouquet of flowers on the dining room table.

Fucking. Ridiculous.

“Eva!”

Josh’s voice startled her from the way she was pacing back and forth in thought. She gasped audibly, body freezing like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Thankfully, Josh wasn’t climbing the stairs to look for her—probably too afraid Mr. Jimenez and his friend would touch one of his precious experiments.

“Eva!” he called again, this time with a touch of impatience.

Steeling herself, she hustled to the door and dropped down onto the stairs. Eva measured her step and let her mouth fall into a pleasant smile as she reached the landing. Folding her hands in front of her, she waited for his orders.

“Mr. Jimenez is making a delivery here in about half and hour,” Josh announced. “He’s brought us a sample to test as a matter of courtesy.”

She refused to look at him, but Eva could feel eyes on her. The room was small, much smaller than the warehouse above. There were two lab tables with various supplies on them sitting on either side of the room. Between the tables stood four men, none of which she trusted.

“I’d like you to do the honors,” Josh prompted, holding up a vial.

In it was a clear liquid that could have been water if it weren’t so thick. Josh held it out to her in offering.

One of the first things Josh allowed her to learn after taking the lead with their books was how to determine the purity of their raw materials. He drilled her over and over, applied pressure with a stopwatch and insults. Eva got it, though, could do it even in her sleep—as proven when he woke her at 2 am, dragged her to the kitchen and made her work in her nightdress.

Eva took the vial from him and pulled on a pair of latex gloves from where they sat on the table. Then, as she practiced, she measured out some of the unknown liquid into a test tube and began to run it through the process.

From her left, the man she didn’t know said something in Spanish. Mr. Jimenez replied, likewise. She guessed that English might be his second language, but hearing him speak in his native tongue made her hands shake. The glass of the tube clinked against a beaker of distilled water. She paused, and forced herself to reset.

All her practice with his scent was clearly not enough. It curled in her nose, nestled in the part of her brain that was tied to sex. In a stunning turn of irony, it occurred to her that she should feel grateful for the way she couldn’t get a handle on her hormones around him. Eva had never enjoyed sex with Josh and never once thought about striking up an affair in order to fulfill the need. All this time, Eva just thought she didn’t have a sex drive.

She was almost happy that she was wrong.

It coiled in her belly, this feeling. Warm and all too pleasant. Every shallow breath brought more heat, more...more. ‘More’ was the only word she could use to describe it. And, ‘more’ was what Eva wanted.

She wished that she could blame it on her status. Poor little omega can’t control her hormones around an alpha. It would be so much easier if that was the case. But, there were no shortages of alphas in Josh’s circle. Hell, Alexei was an alpha. Not a one of them had ever turned her head like the man watching her from his post near the stairs.

He was giving her space, she realized suddenly.

When she entered the basement, Mr. Jimenez was standing next to Josh. Eva’s husband hadn’t moved, was still looking over her shoulder from about three feet away. At some point while she was mixing chemicals at the table, Mr. Jimenez moved as far away as he could while remaining in the room.

Bless him.

Having finished her work, Eva capped the vial and handed it back to Josh, “Its pure enough to work with.”

Josh smiled. An outsider might think he was proud of her. Eva knew better. Josh was proud of himself. He’d found the new resource, he’d vetted them, and it worked out in his favor. Points for Josh.

Turning from Eva, Josh spoke to their new partners, “Looks like we have a deal.”

On cue came the sound of a truck rumbling to a stop in the parking lot. Mr. Jimenez glanced up, smirked, then climbed the stairs. Eva let the men go before her, taking her time getting to the top.

It took an hour to unload the delivery, another twenty minutes for Alexei to ensure that they got the full amount, followed by another five for Josh to quit staring at it. Eva supposed she should have been jealous. He rarely looked at her for half as long and never with that amount of intensity.

Her gaze flicked involuntarily to Mr. Jimenez and she was surprised to find him looking back. His expression was unguarded, the same as it had been on the sidewalk. She found herself caught in it, a heat creeping up her neck. Two, maybe three, seconds passed before he looked away and that stupid little smirk returned.

“Now that business is done, we will celebrate!”

Eva’s brows lifted as she looked to Josh for his response. Her husband tore his attention away from their new stock and fixed Mr. Jimenez with a smile, “Of course. I know just the place.”

She squinted at the back of Josh’s head as she followed him out to the car. Josh regularly went out with his partners, but most of them were fellow businessmen with good standing in the community. Their new partner was a stranger to their town, an unknown. Someone was going to notice that Josh was spending time with him and there would be questions.

Eva was going to say fuck all about it. She knew better than to contradict her husband in public. Or in private, for that matter. Keeping her head down, she walked right to the car, got inside, and waited for Alexei and Josh to join her.

When they did, Alexei looked at Josh and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Josh was all surprise, “What?”

Running a hand down his face, Alexei visibly calmed himself, “There is no reason we should be having drinks with that man.”

“Oh, please,” Josh drawled, “Its just a little get-together after a deal that went well.”

Alexei turned over the engine, “I don’t trust him. He’s shifty.”

“He’s Mexican,” Josh replied, “that’s how they all are. Besides, he’s got connections. Connections that we need.”

Eva stared at the backs of their heads, wondering what the fuck was going on. What didn’t she know about Mr. Jimenez that would make Josh so careless with his reputation?

“We can get it elsewhere,” Alexei said, with feeling.

Josh waved a hand, “I’m not paying the shipping all the way from Europe when I can get it right here in North America.”

Turning her attention to the window, Eva pretended not to listen. All the while, she wondered what it was that Josh was so intent on getting. They had plenty of money, if he needed it. Paying additional for shipping shouldn’t be a barrier.

“You don’t know that he’ll come through with those connections,” Alexei replied lowly.

Again, Josh dismissed his friend, “I had him checked out.”

“So did I,” Alexei retorted, heat in his tone, “The man didn’t exist before five years ago. His records just,” he flexed his hand between them, “poof...disappear.”

Eva held her breath, waiting for Josh to say something. The silence between the two men stretched on and on until she figured the conversation wasn’t going any further. The SUV carried them back into the city and down familiar streets to a jazz club that Josh was fond of. Alexei parked, but didn’t get out of the car.

“I’ll wait here.”

Josh sighed, “Don’t be like that. We’ve had a good day.”

Alexei remained stubbornly silent and Eva knew there would be no budging. She slid from the back seat and closed the door, waiting for Josh to move towards the entrance. He stared at his friend for long seconds, his brows drawn together. Then, with his lip curled, he slammed the door shut and spun on his heel.

The ire in his expression slipped away as Mr. Jimenez met them at the door. Eva kept her distance, saying nothing and drawing as little attention to herself as she could. She probably shouldn’t have bothered. Josh was in a gregarious mood, telling jokes and all of his little charming anecdotes that he used to endear himself to the people around him.

Mr. Jimenez smiled and laughed at all the appropriate times, drank the liquor he was given, remarked on the music and the other patrons. His friend, Javier, was more reserved, but no less engaged with her husband.

Eva was using almost all of her focus to keep her breathing even and her ass in the seat. Sipping the white wine Josh ordered for her was absolutely not helping her to relax. The muscles in her thighs shook beneath the table from where she was pressing her legs together. Heat settled low in her belly. Sweat beaded at her hairline.

Even over the other scents in the room—liquor, smoke, salt—she could smell him. Tobacco and vetiver. The cologne he favored had worn off, leaving behind a scent that was all delicious alpha.

Josh laughed loudly, breaking her away from the day dream of pressing her face into the gland behind his ear. Embarrassed, she drained her wine glass and looked around the room for something to focus on.

A waitress approached and leaned down to speak with Josh, “Sir, there is a call for you at the manager’s desk.”

For the first time in years, Eva wished to God that Josh would stay by her side. He didn’t. Rising, he told the table he would be back shortly and strolled away with the waitress in the lead. To Eva’s utter dismay, Javier muttered something about finding another pack of smokes and left the table, too.

And then they were alone—or, as alone as anyone could be in a room full of people.

She kept her eyes on the tablecloth, counted the threads and thinking that she might benefit from another glass of wine.

“So, you’re called Eva.”

Glancing up was a reflex. Having already begun to look at his face, Eva could not tear her eyes away from him. The mask of arrogance he wore like a second skin once again dissolved away.

“And, you’re called Mr. Jimenez.”

She wouldn’t allow herself to call him by his first name. That kind of familiarity would only lead to disaster. Better to keep him at a distance.

He flinched. Eva clenched her jaw to keep from apologizing for the sarcasm in her tone. She didn’t owe it to him.

Sipping from his glass, he ticked his head to the side, “I’m not going to tell him.”

The heat in her body cooled to razor sharp fear. Quickly, she calculated how much he would have been able to deduce from their limited interactions. Eventually, she concluded that he might know enough to make her life difficult, but it would be a small matter of telling Josh what he wanted to hear to assuage whatever hurt he might be feeling.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Eva replied carefully.

One side of his mouth lifted in a very different kind of smirk than he’d used before, “Of course not.” Then, “How long have you been married?”

Eva shrugged, “A little under seven years.”

His gaze turned assessing, “You’re very young to be married so long.”

She scoffed, “If I weren’t married by my age I’d be considered a spinster, Mr. Jimenez.”

Again, he flinched.

“And you?” Eva asked, her tone polite, “Is there a Mrs. Jimenez I should include in my invites to the ladies’ luncheon?”

She didn’t want to think about why she was asking this question—mostly because the reason was clear as day.

He shook his head, “No, I’m not married.”

To cover her own relief, Eva flagged down a waitress and asked for another glass of wine. When she turned her attention across the table again, Mr. Jimenez was openly staring at her. The air in her lungs got stuck in her windpipe under the intensity of his gaze.

The heat being directed at her felt like it might singe her skin. She took it in, meeting his stare with one of her own. Eva had never been so bold in her entire life and likely never would be again. She might as well enjoy it while she could.

In her periphery, Josh moved through the crowd. Quickly, she dropped her gaze to the tablecloth and tried to relax. He sat with a loud sigh, setting down the glasses he carried in each hand.

“Work never stops,” Josh announced, “Where’s your partner?”

Mr. Jimenez shrugged, “Getting cigarettes, I think. Or, he’s looking for a woman to take home.”

“Ah,” Josh breathed, “I remember those days. They’re all behind me now.” He put his arm around Eva’s shoulders, “Got the old ball and chain to weigh me down.”

Brows lifting, Mr. Jimenez replied, “You told me, yourself, that she does a remarkable job with your books. Where I come from, that’s an asset you don’t take lightly.”

Her husband was either too drunk or in too good a mood to notice the censure in Mr. Jimenez’s voice. Eva couldn’t so easily dismiss it. Two compliments. Both given with what appeared to be sincerity. And, in front of other people. It made her want to know what he would say to her in private.

They didn’t stay much longer after that. Josh had work in the morning and he didn’t like to miss his early appointments. Mr. Jimenez said his goodbyes and drove away with what seemed like little care for the fact that his partner hadn’t returned. Josh ignored the way Alexei stared him down as he headed for the car.

Eva, for her part, got in the car and leaned back in the seat with her eyes closed. The whole way home, she memorized the warmth in Mr. Jimenez’s eyes as he spoke with her. It was so different than the cool indifference he cloaked himself with in every other interaction. She didn’t like how intrigued she was by him. Didn’t like that she wanted to dig underneath his skin to find out who he really was.

After they parked in the driveway, Eva stepped out of the car and walked into the house. By the time she got to her bedroom, Eva made the decision that she shouldn’t talk with him anymore. By the time she lay her head on her pillow, she changed her mind.

#Shadow and Veil #narcos #maurice compte #horacio carrillo #carrillo #AU #a/b/o dynamics

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flythesail · 2 years ago

Note

23 + your fave ship atm 🫶🏻

Thank you!! I went with nace for this one. And also included #74: "Can you help me put the star on top of the tree?" for @scarletslippers <3

Also on ao3

Around the Claw, everyone was in the holiday spirit.

Nick was singing along to a rendition of "Let It Snow" in the office, Bess was covered from head to toe in glitter from the snowflakes she was decorating, and even George's perpetual frown seemed to be gone as she strung garland across the bar.

Nancy didn't feel up to it, though. She wanted to go home and pretend it was any other time of the year. Maybe watch a movie set in summer, or close the blinds so she couldn't see the inflatable snow globe in her neighbor's front yard.

Unlike everyone else, she was in the back of the Claw, checking over the inventory for the rest of the year. The Claw was never busy in winter. Horseshoe Bay was a tourist town, so most of their business was around spring break and throughout summer. The Hilltoppers were out of town and off to somewhere warmer at the first sign of frost.

With a sigh, Nancy checked crabs off the list on her clipboard. It was cold in the freezer, and she had her coat on. But better to be cold from the freezer than from the snow falling outside.

The door to the freezer opened fully, and Nancy glanced that way to find Ace leaning against the doorframe.

"Hanging out with the clams?" he asked.

He wore a blue sweater with a menorah on the front of it. It looked cozy and she wondered if his mom knit it.

Nancy pushed the container of crabs back in place, moving on to the next. "They make good company," she said.

She didn't say anything else, and she thought Ace would leave when she didn't. Instead, he stood in the doorway, still watching her. George wouldn't be happy if she knew about all the cold air escaping, but she didn't say that either.

"You can count the fish if you want," she said finally.

The faster this was done, the faster she could go home.

Ace shook his head, tapping his hand against the door he still held open.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to help decorate the tree."

She stood, feeling an ache in her knees from kneeling on the hard floor for so long.

"You don't have to," he said. He shrugged to further emphasize that point. "But it might be better than hanging out in the freezer.

Nancy tucked her pen under the clip of her clipboard. "Yeah, I could help." The clams certainly weren't going anywhere.

She followed him down the steps of the freezer and out to the dining area.

"Oh." Nancy stopped when she saw the tree. "Wow."

There was a tall artificial tree in the back corner, wrapped in nautical rope, no less.

Ace stopped beside her. "I did the rope so I'll pretend that's a good wow."

A small smile flickered across Nancy's face.

She genuinely liked Ace. They weren't exactly best friends, but out of everyone at the Claw—she was closest with him. He knew about how she tanked her chance of getting into college senior year and covered for her whenever she was running late for her shift.

Maybe she had a soft spot for the guy who washed the dishes and wore his hat backward just because.

Maybe it was a little bit of a crush, but she wouldn't admit that.

"Alright," Ace said as if this was the most important task Nancy would ever do.

She looked at him. Maybe it was.

"Ready for ornaments?" he asked.

"Sure." She watched as he took a large box from a nearby table and set it in front of the tree. The side of it had the logo of the brand of oyster crackers they always bought. Over the top of it, someone had scrawled Christmas in black marker.

Nancy reached into the box, pulling out the first ornament. It was a crab with reindeer antlers. "Seems right, I guess." She hung it on one of the lower branches.

"Can't have the Claw without crabs."

Ace took the next ornament. It was a ceramic lighthouse, almost too heavy to be hung on the tree. It weighed the branch down, and Ace moved the ribbon attached to it further back on the branch.

They continued like that for a while. A life preserver, anchor, and sailboat among the dozen or so ornaments they stuck on the tree.

It was silent as they worked, but not in a bad way. Ace was easy to be around, and they worked well together. Her ornament would be missing a hook, and wordlessly, he'd find one loose at the bottom of the box.

She used to love decorating their tree at home.

This was Nancy's first Christmas without her mom though, and that was the reason for her newfound distaste for it. Christmas had been Kate's favorite, and Nancy didn't need Hallmark movies or snow globes to be reminded she was gone.

It was a fact she could never forget.

"LAAAAST CHRISTMAS, I GAVE YOU MY HEART," belted Bess, incredibly loudly and off-key. "BUT THE—"

Nancy was startled and turned to see Bess standing on a chair near the Claw's entrance.

"Bess!" George said from behind the bar. She was trying to get an extension cord to work.

A laugh escaped Nancy's lips, and the sound of it surprised her. But it felt good to laugh.

"What?" Bess said. "I love that song."

George shook her head, going back to fighting the cord.

Nancy turned to see Ace watching her, a smile on his own face.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she busied herself with searching the oyster crackers box for more ornaments.

"Where's the star?" she asked, pushing aside the old newspaper the more fragile ornaments had been wrapped in.

"I think," said Ace seriously, "you mean the Christmas Seagull."

"The what–"

Nancy looked up.

What Ace held certainly fit the name. It was a seagull—made of plastic and likely having seen better days with the way the grey of its wings was faded in places.

The seagull got its Christmas name from its Santa hat, jacket, and black boots.

"Incredible, right?" said Ace. "This is what the holidays are all about."

"Does it…" Nancy fought a laugh. "Does it light up?"

"Sure does!" called George from behind the bar. She'd finally gotten the extension cord to work, and the garland was now lit with white lights. "That seagull has seen more Claw Christmases than me."

Nancy did laugh. "Alright then," she said, glancing back at Ace. "Want to help me put the seagull on top of the tree?"

He nodded. "I thought you'd never ask."

She brought a chair over to the tree and climbed on top of it. When she was ready, Ace handed her the seagull and she stuck it on the tallest point of the tree.

Ace held out his hand for her. Although it couldn't be more than a three-foot jump to the ground, she took it and stepped off the chair. For a moment, he didn't let go of her hand and Nancy didn't pull it away either.

But eventually he did let go, and Nancy found herself missing the way her hand fit in his.

"Oooh, is it time to light it?" Bess asked, joining them by the tree. "Nick!" she called.

"Yeah?" he asked from the office.

"It's time to light the tree!"

He left the office, and Bess ushered both him and George over.

The five of them stood in front of it for a moment. It wasn't a pretty sight and could probably earn the world record for most nautical-themed ornaments on a single tree, but the sight of it filled Nancy with a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time.

She had an inkling it had more to do with the five people surrounding her than the reindeer crab staring at her from a bottom branch.

Her friends, she realized.

"Who's going to plug it in?" Nick asked.

"I'll do it," said George. She left his side and stuck the plug into the outlet.

The tree lit up with white lights, and atop the tree, the Christmas Seagull glowed.

"Just stunning," said Bess, pretending to wipe a tear from her cheek.

"I don't know if that's the word I'd use," said George.

"It sure is… something," said Nick."

"I think it looks great," said Ace. "The seagull is really a nice touch."

They might have stood there for hours, admiring the tree. But the moment ended quicker than that.

"We have to go get my sisters from their friend's house," said George. "Can you guys lock up?"

"Yeah, sure," said Bess. "I think I'm going to stay a bit to finish the snowflakes anyway."

Nick and George said their goodbyes, and Bess went to do that.

That left just Nancy and Ace.

"Headed home?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. Her dad was home and the thought of spending the night with him, maybe even taking their own decorations from the attic seemed nice. This Christmas wasn't easy. In some ways, it would be terrible. But she had good people to lean on.

"Me too."

They grabbed their things from their lockers and were still together as they reached the door at the front of the Claw.

"Are you guys leaving?" asked Bess. She was in the kitchen now, hanging snowflakes across the cutout in the wall that separated the kitchen from the dining area.

"Are you fine to be here by yourself?" asked Ace.

"Oh, definitely," said Bess. She took another piece of tape from the roll she held. "Just wanted to say you guys should look up."

Whatever Nancy might have said then caught in her throat, as her gaze traveled to the ceiling. There, hung a small branch of mistletoe.

Nancy's face warmed when she met Ace's eyes, but she played it off. "Very funny, Bess," she said. She took the sleeve of Ace's coat and pulled him out the door with her. "See you tomorrow!"

"If you say so, Nancy!" said Bess.

The door shut behind them, and they didn't move from the deck of the Claw.

The sky was dark. George and Nick's footprints in the parking lot were already covered by falling snow.

Snowflakes landed in Ace's hair. One stuck to Nancy's eyelash, and she blinked it away.

"So…" Ace said slowly.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

He smiled. "Going home now?"

She nodded and smiled slightly. "Yeah, you already asked that."

"Right."

Finally, they stepped down the stairs. Although the air was freezing, they took their time walking to their cars.

When Nancy was close to hers, she took Ace's coat sleeve again so he'd stop.

"Hey, Ace," she said, and he turned to face her.

He watched her curiously. The light from the front of the Claw was enough to illuminate this part of the parking lot.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

She said nothing, and he brushed her hand with his own. She held onto it. Neither of them had gloves, and both their hands were cold. She found herself at a loss for words, even if she knew what she wanted to say.

This close, the cold wasn't so bad.

His eyes flickered across her face, falling from her eyes to her mouth.

Before Nancy could lose her nerve, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"What was that for?" he asked when she stepped back.

"Helping me hang the seagull, obviously."

He smiled. "Have a good night, Nancy."

"You too."

As she got in her car, she knew she already had.

#nace #nancy drew cw #nancy drew #flythefic #this fic is 75% me missing the claw

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