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pandora-writes-one-piece · 4 months ago

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The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 4

Source for pic

Firestarter 4

Word Count: 6856

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: And so the angst begins! If you wish to be added to a tag list, say so! Thank you!

Tag List: @rosidaze

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

Saturday comes and it’s very uneventful. Your father says he's got some plans with his friend Mihawk and you use the free time to clean up the rest of your room - there were still a lot of trophies and books from when you were a child, but now it finally resembles a grown-up room.

Your initial plans for the afternoon included a marathon of trash TV and plopping down on the couch like a parasite, maybe even gobbling up some junk food. But it's such a nice day outside that you decide to do some sunbathing.

And you do. You dress in a simple red two-piece bikini and lather sunscreen on your body before heading outside armed with your headphones, a book and a towel. The backyard has a little wooden deck with two sun chairs and a small pool. The pool is closed but you're not really interested in it. So you get your little setup and sigh in relaxation. You never had moments like these in the city. Ichiji liked the fancy parties and clubs, there was barely any time the both of you spent together like this.

In retrospect, you should've seen the end of the relationship coming. You barely had anything else to give each other. It was only a matter of time.

You cosy up on the chair and stretch. It feels really nice.

The view of the property is relaxing and the only house you can see in the proximity is Mr. Garp’s. The houses are only separated by a small path and you can see the windows perfectly well. You know which one was Luffy’s old room, you have been there a bunch of times, but you don't quite know which one is Ace's.

You try to guess based on the knowledge you have of the inside of the house. It's either the one to the right of Luffy’s, or it's the one that faces the side of the house.

A small smile creeps its way to your lips as you remember your time together at the firestation. Being with Ace felt really natural. You didn't have to force any conversation, he made you laugh and, damn, the chemistry. The sexual tension was crazy.

But there is only a slight problem. You aren't looking to be just another one. You are no longer in that phase of your life when you're just looking for fun. You want something actually meaningful. And Ace is not meant for meaningful relationships. He isn't capable of it.

You exchanged some texts with Nami last night saying that you had fun and she had probed you so hard that you caved and admitted you feel very attracted to Ace. But then you probed her, and every assumption you had about him was correct. He is a player and leaves behind him a long trail of broken hearts. He's all about the chase and the conquest. Once he gets the kiss, the girl, the fuck… It's over.

And you refuse to be just that.

The afternoon rolls by lazily and you have already rolled over on your back and on your front, just like a happy kitten. Until you see a movement in Ace's house.

It’s him.

You were right, his room is next to Luffy’s. He stands in front of the window - shirtless - and unaware that you are there, apparently, since he’s staring somewhere else, his signature cheeky grin in place, and you smile. Damn, he’s cute.

Off-limits, player, just a crush!

Can he see you? Could he be tempted to join you in the sun?

Immediately your head starts to create interesting scenarios for both of you to play out.

Ace arriving with his cocky smirk and telling you that you look gorgeous.

Ace setting a knee in the middle of your legs to pry them open as his hand cradles your neck to pull your face up.

His other hand clutching your hip for dear life. His tongue licking the sweat from your body, from your belly to your chest.

The hottest kiss you could ever dream of, eliciting all kinds of choked noises and mewls from your mouth.

You take a deep breath and fan your hat over your face. Maybe it's time to get out of the sun? You're getting pretty hot!

You gather your book and start to get up when you take another look at Ace's window. And then instantly freeze and regret having looked at all.

There is a young brunette girl in front of the window, grinning while she closes the curtains.

Your breath catches for an instant. And then the dread in your stomach spreads its icy tendrils up to your heart.

It's nothing short of a surprise. It's what he does. His modus operandi. But the realisation still stings. Just last night he told you that he's always thinking about you. Your mind told you, at that moment, that it was a line he used on every girl, yet, your heart thought differently.

But today, not even 24 hours later, he has a girl in his room.

You refuse to cry. Even if the tears are more of frustration and about how gullible you are, more than anything else.

Yet, you should've known. You were warned.

-*-

Ace keeps sending you texts asking how you are and if you want to hang out. You keep leaving him unread. You're still pretty pissed at him, even though you know you have no right to be. He's not your anything.

Then you get another text. It's Nami this time, so you open it.

You miss Luffy! Ace told you he also works at the firestation, but since he no longer lives with his grandfather, you still haven’t gotten the chance to hang out with him. You’ll definitely go to this party. Even if you’re sure to run into Ace and whatever girl he’s with right now…

This triggers Nami, so she instantly calls you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Forget it, Nami. It's nothing new. I just saw him through the window of his room with some girl.” You force out a laugh. “Nami, it's just a silly attraction. Nothing else. I just think he's really hot!”

“Babe, if you keep thinking about him I think you should just ride that cowboy… Scratch that itch… You get my drift? Take it out of your head and then that's it!”

“You sound ridiculous.”

“Yet no wiser words have ever been spoken.”

“Maybe, but I'm not interested in being just another notch under his belt. I'd much rather be just a friend.” You reiterate.

“From what I hear, I’d say it's your loss!” She chuckles. “But you're still coming to the party, right?”

“Yes, obviously.” You agree with a chuckle.

“And if Ace's there with his bimbo?”

“Good riddance to both. I just want to be friends with him, anyway.”

You can almost hear the eye roll on the other end. But to her credit, she doesn't say anything.

“Deal. We'll meet at your house to get ready. It's closer. I'll tell Robin.”

You agree and after hanging up, there's still a small smile pressed upon your lips. Nami is a friend and she makes you happy. Ace is also a friend. You shouldn't be mad at him.

Therefore, you open his texts and finally answer him, claiming to have been busy. Forgetting all about the brunette bimbo and simply focusing on your friendship.

Just like Nami, he gets tired of texting and calls you.

“Hey gorgeous. I thought you were ghosting me.”

You lie back on the bed and roll your eyes. “Don't call me gorgeous. And I could never ghost you. I've just been busy.”

“Yeah, I get it. I've had a busy day as well.” He chuckles and the cold in your stomach spreads.

“I bet…” You mumble.

Friends! Friends! Friends!

“I can't call you princess and I can't call you gorgeous, what do you want me to call you then?”

Why is his chuckle so damn sexy over the phone?

“My name, genius! What else?”

“I'll get back to you about that.” Another chuckle. “Have you heard about my little brother’s party?”

“Nami is my friend, how could I not?” You chuckle.

“Right, right. Are you going?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Me too, obviously.”

Then he proceeds to tell you about the busy day he had helping his grandfather with some affairs at the house and about some paperwork he still had to do from this week's occurrences at the firestation and you tell him about your day.

He doesn't mention the brunette. And neither do you.

Somehow, the time goes by and you end up talking with Ace for almost two hours straight. Just like you were musing earlier, he's so easy to talk with. So natural, so fun.

Shanks knocks lightly on the door and pokes his head inside. “Bug? Dinner's ready.”

You rise immediately, sitting on the bed with wide eyes. Dinner already? You didn't even realise it was already dinner time, and you had meant to cook it. Shanks must have realised that you were taking too long on the phone and did it himself.

“Oh! Right. I'll be right down, dad. Ace I've got to go. Talk to you tomorrow, bye.”

Shanks bites his cheek, his brows scrunched. It looks as if he wants to say something, but he's considering that it's not his place to do so. So he smiles at you and begins to walk downstairs to the kitchen and you follow.

The first minutes of the meal are spent in silence until you start telling him about your day. Then, abruptly he talks.

“Bug… Is your relationship with Ace advancing?”

The fork stops midway to your mouth and you feel your cheeks burn.

“I know it's not really my place. You are an adult and I was not a present father in your life. Believe me, I regret it most days. Maybe if I had tried a little harder, you and your mother could still be together and you'd have grown up with me. Maybe I had more right to butt into your business. But I worry… and… well…”

“Dad, Ace and I are just friends. Nothing else. He's really easy to talk with and we have a lot of the same interests. He's fun. But that's it. Don't worry.”

You can almost see the relief in Shanks’ face. And you almost feel bad about the way Ace really makes you feel. Because your father's worry is not at all misplaced. Ace is dangerous for impressionable hearts.

“Friends? Okay, okay. That's good.”

You just have to make sure your heart is not impressionable and that friends are all you and he will ever be. That's all you want to be.

-*-

The next morning passes by pretty fast as you help your dad with the chores and get the horses and the ponies ready for the Summer Jubilee. Shanks is going to have a horse riding station, mostly for the kids, but sometimes adults like to join too.

“How's your back, dad?”

“I'm managing. I'm still taking the pills.”

“Don't overdo it, alright? Are you sure you don't need me there to help you?”

“No, baby, Beckman will be there to help me. You know he loves these horses. You go and have fun at your party.”

Benn Beckman is one of your dad’s oldest friends. They used to play some sport together in school and they both never left town, so it’s a natural friendship, like yours with Nami and Robin. The festival only starts on Monday, but the vendors and concessionaires that will have their businesses at the fair are going to use Sunday to set up and you feel as if you should be helping your dad instead of going to a party.

Shanks winks, and you laugh. “I will, dad.”

“Just not too much fun…” He grumbles, beneath his breath and you roll your eyes as you climb the stairs to take a bath and wait for the girls.

-*-

“Ohhh, I've got the perfect dress for you!” Nami claps excitedly and you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

“I have my own clothes, Nami! What is it with you and trying to get me into your clothes?”

“Funny, she always tries to get me out of them…” Vivi muses and you laugh out loud.

“Honey, don't take this the wrong way. You're beautiful, but your clothes are a bit… plain… don't you want to dress to impress?” She winks.

“Not really, no.”

“Too bad. This dress is perfect. Vivi and Robin already agreed and I won't take no for an answer. Ace will be blown away!”

You sigh and let Nami dress you up as if you were a barbie doll. There’s no use in fighting her, really. And you hate to admit it, but she does own some sexy clothes. And you do want to blow Ace away.

Though you’re having a hard time admitting it.

-*-

As you cross the tiny pathway to Mr. Garp’s house - turns out ‘at Luffy’s’ means there because Luffy’s flat is too small to fit his many, many friends - your heart starts to beat faster. You know Ace will be there. And you know there will be girls all over him. But you should also know that you can't be jealous, because you're nothing but a friend to him.

And that's all you'll ever be.

Still, you feel as if an army of tiny ants are crawling on your insides because everything is moving and squirming in there and you are actually quite nervous to meet him. You guys had a wonderful chat yesterday, but you also knew he had been with another girl before speaking with you.

And Nami has already told you: Ace is a chaser. He likes the difficulty in seducing women - not that it's difficult for him, you bet. You need to keep repeating in your head: you don't want to be just another girl!

Are you obsessing?

Shaking your head, you try to steady your heels on the uneven path. Why did you listen to Nami? You tried to put on sneakers, but after she dressed you in the most shockingly slinky, short red dress with a draped cowl neckline and thin gold chain straps, she almost had a heart attack when she saw your feet.

She screamed sacrilege and almost hit you in the head with the gold heels. You kept repeating that it was too much, but none of the girls listened to you. To be fair all of them look equally stunning and sexy, so you don't really feel that out of place.

Still, it's hard to walk in these things and you're pretty sure you’ll be taking them off at one point or another as the party progresses.

As you pass the threshold of the front door, you get immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. It smells like sweat, pot and booze, and the mixture makes you wrinkle your nose.

“Who are all these people?” You ask Nami, screaming over the loud music.

“Luffy has many friends!” She answers with a laugh.

Right. He has many friends but they're definitely from out of town because you're pretty sure that he has more people inside this house than the entire population of your hometown.

Robin wanders away saying she saw Sabo and she wants to say hi. Nami winks suspiciously at her and the raven-haired girl blushes and giggles. Then, Nami does a little crowd check and smiles.

“Oh, I see my friend Lola. Will you be alright by yourself or do you wanna come?” She asks with concern and you nod vigorously. You are already seeing some familiar faces, and you won't mind mingling for a while. She smiles and saunters over with her girlfriend, also ready to mingle.

Sighing, you set out to find a drink, first. You're in the right mood to get wasted after thinking about Ace sucking face with half of the pretty girls at this party! And free booze is just the right way to do it. Sanji is there and you take the cocktail he effortlessly makes for you with a big smile but you don't get to chat much as his drinks are in high demand and he excuses himself to go cater to another beautiful lady.

You chuckle at his ways and take a sip of the drink he made for you. Perfect.

You hear your name being shouted and turn around with wide eyes. It's Luffy. You hug him and he hugs back, introduces you to some of his many friends and both of you speak as if you never stopped talking at all.

“I'm so glad you're back in town again! Ace can't stop talking about you!” He grins and you blush.

“Right. I bet.”

But, even though you wouldn't mind knowing what Ace has to say about you, Luffy is also in high demand and gets summoned by a man with a long nose and curly black hair, who's smiling at him. Excusing himself, Luffy promises to find you again and you promise to hold him to that.

You take another look around the room, trying to find old friends amidst the sea of new faces, but your eyes are immediately drawn to him. In all his shirtless glory, obviously. And, even more obvious is the way there's a brunette sticking to his side. An arm draped around his waist and dreamy eyes on her face.

It figures. The party has just started and already Ace has chosen his catch of the day. Or maybe it's the catch from yesterday?

It irks you so much! Why does he have to be such a player? No, screw that! He can be a player all he wants, he just needs to stop giving you attention and making you feel special! He needs to back off! So you can move on! Geez, you look like a teenager with her first serious crush.

Chugging the cocktail in one go, you cringe at the aftertaste and quickly ask Sanji to make you another one. You've made up your mind. You just need to avoid Ace all night. If he doesn't speak with you, there's no chance for him to enchant you with his deceiving words. There. You're a genius.

With this happy resolution in mind and a new tasty cocktail in hand, you decide to leave this room. First step to avoiding Ace, don't be where he is.

Swaying your hips to the beat of the song, you make your way to the backyard so you can breathe some fresh air and though there are many people outside, the open makes everything better and you inhale deeply.

“Heeey beautiful.” A slurred voice echoes near your ear as a grimy hand moves your hair away from your shoulder, from behind. “Is that dress on sale? Because it's 100% off at my place!”

You cringe as you turn and slap the hand away from you. “First of all: eughhh! Secondly, don't touch me, creep.” The man looming near you smirks and licks his lips as his eyes rake your body from head to toe, drinking you in, and he further invades your space.

“Come on,” he snorts and you realise he's clearly inebriated or high, or maybe both. “Dressing like that, what were you expecting?” He reaches and tries to touch you, but a large hand, coming from a presence behind you, wraps around his wrist and stops him.

“Respect, obviously.” A low voice rumbles over your head as you turn your head around and meet the cold gaze of Ace, boring his dark eyes straight into the boy in front of you. Because in the face of Ace, he's nothing but a scared little boy. He steps in front of you and smirks. “Now apologise and beat it, before I kick you out of my house.” You're impressed with how he managed to speak such menacing words with a smile and still sound threatening.

The boy mutters a hastened apology and escapes, tail between his legs.

You face Ace with a frown still upon your lips. So much for avoiding him. Your plan failed and you're not a genius. You're actually an idiot. “Why do you insist on being my knight in shining armour? Especially since you're never wearing anything other than shorts!” You reply deadpan as you point at his naked torso.

He's checking you out. His eyes linger suggestively on your exposed legs - Nami, once again, knew who she was dealing with when dressing you - and a cheeky smirk curves his cheeks upwards and makes his freckles dance just for you. “I know you like seeing my muscles.” He flexes and guffaws as you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, me and all these young, impressionable college girls. Smooth, Ace.” You muffle a snort by taking another sip of the amazing cocktail and close your eyes in bliss. “Thank you, but I know how to defend myself from creeps. You can go now. I see a lot of lonely girls ogling you. I'm sure you have better things to do.” You mention suggestively.

It still stings to know Ace is a player. And that you almost fell for his act. Because how can you not fall for the hot, freckled, funny and helpful fireman who compliments you and pays attention to you? Until you realise you're just another one. And you're not special nor ever were. Not to him, not to anyone. You're just… just…

You.

Sighing, you finish your drink in one gulp and turn inside to get another. Maybe this time you'll bring a bottle with you.

“Woah, easy there, tiger. Don't chug your drinks like that. They taste sweet but they pack a mean punch! Sanji doesn't go light on the alcohol unless you specifically tell him to.”

You eye his drink and, honestly, don't even care what's in it. Locking eyes with him and burning him with your gaze, you snatch the red cup from his hand, ignoring his protests and warning words. “Well, boo-freaking-hoo!” With a mock toast gesture, you chug the whole thing in one gulp.

And regret it immediately.

You cough and wheeze, eyes brimming with tears as you try to breathe through your nose to calm the burn in your throat. Ace just stares at you and crosses his arms over his bare chest. The drink was nasty! It was like pure alcohol.

“What the hell?” You sputter.

“I told you, you couldn't handle it.”

“Shove off, Ace!” You drawl as you turn back inside in search of a bottle. God, this man infuriates you. He doesn't follow you inside and you don't care for the empty feeling that leaves in your stomach. You'll soon fill up that spot with some booze.

Securing a bottle, you make your way back outside, expertly avoiding the place where Ace was, and start mingling with some old school friends. Time flies in an instant. Either that, or the vodka you snatched is really good, because suddenly everything seems to be spinning around you.

You make up an excuse and try to find your way back inside, ready to find Nami and tell her this was a terrible idea and you are going to go home. But, instead, you take another chug of the bottle and wince. The numbness of the alcohol is quite refreshing, maybe a bit more won't hurt.

But your steps are uneven and you keep bumping into people and apologising. Someone grabs you and pulls you into a dance and you can't quite tell if you know the person or not. It looks like he has spiky green hair and a loop for a nose ring. His teeth seem really sharp but that might be just the alcohol talking. He starts to get handsy because you're losing your balance, but soon, his hands go from your waist to your hips and try to get lower.

Your brain clicks and you shove the man away but you are even dizzier from the dance and ready to fall or pass out until a strong pair of hands grabs your waist and sets you over his shoulder unceremoniously.

Before you protest, you realise it's Ace just by the smell of him. That darn smokey wood and fresh pine! A freaking punch in the gut just as you were having fun. “Let go!” You slur into his back as you start to kick your feet in the air.

“Stop it! Your dress is riding up! This thing is freaking short.” He hisses.

“I don't care! Let go of me, Ace, I mean it!” You keep kicking and sure enough, your dress is almost exposing your butt, so you feel him pull the fabric down and settle his warm, big hand over the gap of your thighs and your butt so it doesn't ride up again.

That action stops your squirming immediately.

You start to take notice of your position: breasts are squished against his back and bare legs feeling all of the heat emanating from his chest. And his smell… God, his intoxicating smell is making your head spin. Or perhaps that’s from all the alcohol.

Why is he with you? Shouldn't he be sucking face with some bimbo?

You realise you still have the bottle in your hand, so you take another sip as Ace carries you up the stairs. You've been upstairs at Luffy’s house before. In his room, never in Ace's. Because that's definitely where he's taking you. So in with another sip.

“Stop drinking!” He hisses again and sets you down at the top of the stairs. You stumble and hit your back against the wall with a low whine. At least you're steady now.

Grinning, you raise the bottle, your eyes never leaving his harsh stare. “Make me.” You taunt and take another sip. Ace grunts as his hands tousle his dark hair.

“You're infuriating.”

“Hmm, hmm.” You chuckle. “As I thought. You're all bark and no bite.” You take a step to the side to descend the steps, aiming to get another bottle, or to find Nami, or leave. Whatever. Anything to get away from Ace's intoxicating presence.

But the stairs move! Or the floor does. You're not certain. What you do know is that you're about to fall.

But, obviously, you don't get to fall, because your knight is right there for you, holding your waist and pulling your body against his. Ace’s head nuzzles against the crook of your neck while his arm circles your waist, protectively. You feel pressure on your hips just as he digs his digits firmly against your flesh, his hip fixation driving you crazy once more as your toes curl.

A gasp leaves your parted lips as he inhales your scent and then you moan softly as he exhales hot breath against your neck, trailing goosebumps with his lips and grunting near your ear.

He lets go abruptly and wraps a hand around your wrist, tugging and pulling you towards his bedroom. Is this going to happen? Are you going to fall into his trap?

Because you're drunk?

Opening the door he throws you onto his bed with a growl and turns. You hear him breathing heavily but you can't do anything as everything is spinning around you and, even if you wanted to, you couldn't quite get up yet.

After a moment you hear his feet shuffle as he turns back to you. “Sleep.” He approaches and snatches the bottle from your hand. “And enough of this.”

He turns to leave the room but you grab his wrist. Were you going for the bottle? Or was it really his wrist you meant to grab?

“Stay.” You whisper against your will.

You can almost hear his internal battle raging outside. You're drunk, and you know he doesn't want to take advantage. But you do.

Do you?

His jaw clenches and he sits by the foot of the bed, away from you, his face turned as he's assaulted by a grim look.

You can't think too much about this or it will never happen. You're drunk. So you should just go with it. You're sure it'll feel good. It will help you process whatever it is you think you feel for him and then, finally, forget him. What did Nami say?

Ride that cowboy, scratch that itch.

Damn, riding him does sound good. Who cares about the dumb bimbos he has downstairs waiting for him? Who cares if he'll just find another girl to chase after you?

Sex sounds pretty damn appealing now.

“So how does this work, exactly?” You start, getting on your knees and approaching his body, one hand caressing his naked shoulders and now he can't help but stare back at you. “You seduce the girl, or barely do anything because you have all that!” You point at his body with a snort. “And then after you've fucked her, you move on? It's like she never existed, nothing happened, just another notch under your belt?”

You ask while he keeps staring at you. You can't read anything in his dark eyes. His freckles seem lifeless, his smirk is gone and he doesn't seem amused at all.

“Because if that's how it works, maybe we should have a go at it. You just fuck me and we both move on. Because I can't take this anymore, Ace.” Your voice is barely a whisper. You move closer and straddle his lap. Your dress rides up and you buckle your hips against him, feeling his hardness against your achy, needy core as he muffles a grunt against his pressed lips. His hands twitch as if he wants to grab you but they remain planted firmly against the bed. His eyes never leave yours, yet he remains silent. “I can't be this hung up on you anymore, Ace. So just get this over and done with, will you? So we can both move on.”

Tilting your head to the side and digging your nails into his scalp, you lean in for the kiss, ready to take his lips, his tongue, his hands and his dick. And then his rejection, his aloofness and the hurt of seeing him with someone else.

That is the whole Ace package.

But maybe that's what it takes to stop obsessing over him.

Except you don't take anything because he stops you. Two strong hands on your shoulders push you back as his gaze falls down, facing your bodies where they are close. Would be connected, even, if not for the clothing between you. Ace is breathing heavily and you can feel the tension oozing out of him in hot waves.

“Stop.” He says your name firmly. And you know a ‘no’ when you hear one. Even though this one hurts like hell.

Nodding, it takes you a few turns to swallow the hard lump that formed in your throat. As you get off his lap and fix your dress, you notice that the world is spinning once again and this time it's almost unbearable.

“It's not that I don't want you. Trust me.” He groans. “It's just… you're not even going to remember this conversation tomorrow, let alone be of sane mind to consent to sex.” He snorts and shakes his head. “When-... if we do this, I want you to remember all of it.”

You roll your eyes at him and scoff loudly. “I would rather forget.” You mumble and lie back, curling to the side and closing yourself off. As if you would like to remember the time when Ace used you and dumped you - if it happened. Forgetting is much easier than getting all of his attention.

He sighs and gets up. Then he takes off your shoes and tells you to close your eyes and sleep. You close them, with a heavy heart and a heavier conscience. You do hope you don't remember this tomorrow. The way you threw yourself at him and the way he swiftly rejected you.

Which one is worse, really?

Covering your body with a blanket, he puts the trash can near the bed in case you need it later - you’ll probably need it. There’s a heaviness on top of your eyes, the beginnings of a throbbing headache, and a moment passes but Ace doesn't leave. His presence still fills the room, still fills you and makes your heart ache. But you don't open your eyes to acknowledge him - or your pain - and your breath starts to even out.

You hear him sigh and sense him leaning above you, his head hovering near yours. “You would never be just another notch under my belt…” He murmurs and kisses your forehead gently before leaving you alone in his room.

-*-

You’re woken up either by the bright sun shining directly on your eyelids, or by the throbbing headache in your temples, you’re not quite sure.

Either way, your body says that it’s too early for this, and it’s too freaking hot. When it gets this hot, you usually lean against the wall on the side of your bed to absorb the coolness from the bricks. So you turn to the side and scoot over to mould yourself against the cool wall.

Except there’s no wall.

And there’s no more bed.

So you fall with a soft yelp, dragging the blanket - which is rolled around your torso, arms and face, for some reason - and fall onto the hard floor.

Wait.

You fall, alright, but not onto the hard floor. It’s firm. And it’s a body. It’s grunting.

Huffing, you try to stand up but the blanket makes the job difficult and the room is still spinning from all the alcohol you ingested yesterday, so you sit, on top of the body, stradling the man below you, and trying - in vain! - to either get up or to get rid of the blanket, all the while muffling apologies for the minor ‘inconvenience’.

In the middle of your desperate plight to escape your situation, you hear another low grunt and feel two strong hands grab your hips and pin you against his body, making it impossible to move.

“Stop. Squirming. Please.”

It’s Ace. You stop immediately, your free hand grasping at the surface in front of you - his abs. Feeling your face burn up at the touch you realise the reality of your situation: You’re both on the floor, with you straddling him and fondling his perfect six-pack - maybe stop touching him! - and he’s very hard between your legs.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s… the blanket…” You start, your face hidden by the thrice-damned blanket. Ace grunts again and you wince at the loss of contact when he removes one of his hands and rips the blanket off you with one swift motion.

The pull disrupts your balance, and you dig your nails into his stomach - that’s sure to leave a mark - and tighten your legs around him to try and steady yourself. You know he doesn’t mean to, but Ace bucks his hips up with your squirming and you barely bite back a whine at the friction that creates in your core.

“Fuck.” He mutters with a desperate exhale, lifting his torso up and facing you.

This is dangerous territory. And now you’re free, so you should get up. Why don’t you?

Ace’s fingers grip your hips tighter. When did his hand return to your hip? You didn’t notice it, it’s like it belongs there. And why are you now grabbing his shoulders? His eyes are all pupil and he doesn’t blink while he drinks you in. You know you must be a mess. Hair all over the place, smudged makeup, dress straps off your shoulders… yet the look he’s giving you makes you feel like you’re the only girl that matters in the world.

“Don’t do that…” You whisper. You want him to stop looking at you like that, to stop making you feel special and wanted, because you can’t take another heartbreak, and there’s no way that something you start with Ace won’t end in heartbreak. So you need to nip this in the bud even before it blooms.

“Right.” His voice is hoarse and ragged as his hold tightens around your waist, lifting you with ease and setting you aside, removing himself from the situation. He grabs a discarded shirt from the back of his chair and leaves the room cursing and tousling his hair.

You only meant for him to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t want him to leave completely. Right? Because now there’s a sudden emptiness inside and around you and you’re not quite sure how to be complete again.

Sighing, you massage your temples with both hands. The tension between the two of you is becoming unbearable. Should he just fuck you and get it over with so you could each go your own way?

Why does this line of thought feel so familiar?

Lowering your head, you inhale and almost gag at the smell of your dress. At some point yesterday you must’ve spilled an entire drink on yourself, because it smells like the back alley of the town's dingiest tavern.

You test your stability by slowly lifting yourself with the help of the bed, and it works. Then you look around and, sure enough, there’s a half-crumpled t-shirt lying on the chair, the same place he took the other one from. Grabbing it, you take a tentative sniff. It doesn’t smell bad. If anything, it smells like him.

It smells amazing.

Even though Ace closed the door when he left, you turn your back and quickly discard your dress. You curse when you realise you’re not wearing a bra because the dress didn’t allow for one, but you still pull the shirt over you. It falls to your thighs, almost at the same height as the dress.

“Hmm, hmm.” Ace’s grunt startles you and you turn swiftly to the door. Did he see you change? “Here.” He extends a glass of water and two pills. His eyes are locked on the ceiling and there’s a slight blush on his cheeks. He saw you.

You choose not to acknowledge the fact.

“Thanks.” You take the pills and almost inhale the glass of water because you’re so thirsty. Then you sigh in satisfaction and set the glass on his desk. “I took your shirt, I thought you wouldn’t mind… seeing as you barely wear them.”

That elicited a very small chuckle from him, but the curl of his lips didn’t even reach his freckles.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“No. Not much. I think I remember you bringing me here, but then, nothing. I must’ve blacked out immediately, right?” You chuckle and miss the pained grimace on his face.

“Yeah, that was it.”

“Sorry for taking your bed and making you sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. “Sorry for falling on top of you… I thought I was in my room, you see, there’s usually a wall there and-...” You stop your wild gestures and chuckle.

Why does this feel weird all of a sudden?

“I guess I should get going. Shanks might be worried.” You know your father will never say anything about you spending the night away or drinking, you’re no longer a kid, but he will still worry.

“I texted him last night to tell him you were alright and spending the night.”

You flush as your eyes meet his. “You told him just like that?” He nods and you groan. “Great, he’s going to think we have something.”

“Who would want that, right?” He sounds sarcastic.

“What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem!” He grunts again and you somehow pick up on the fact that he’s angry at you, or frustrated at least.

“Clearly you do!” Taking a step forward, you try to approach him with your hand extended, but he turns his face away from you with a ‘tsk’ and steps back. For some reason your heart sinks and you feel cold.

“Got it. I’m the problem. I’ll get out of here, no worries.” Maybe he wanted to spend the night with some girl and you being in his bed got in the way of that? That had to be it. Why else would he be so upset?

Grabbing your shoes from the floor and your crumpled, smelly dress, you make your way to the door, brows knitted together and lips pursed.

“I’m so sorry for getting in the way of your lay. Maybe you should’ve just dumped me in Luffy’s old room instead of your own. Then you would’ve been able to fuck whomever you wanted.”

You stomp past him and you don’t know why you have tears stinging in the back of your eyes. Might be because of the hangover? It has to be.

“So sorry for the inconvenience.” You shout before running down the hall, down the stairs and to your home.

#one piece #one piece au #one piece modern day au #portgas d ace #ace #portgas ace x y/n #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader #reader x ace #the meet cute

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milla-frenchy · 11 months ago

Text

Firestarter

4k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller x Veracruz Chapt summary: a guard you don't know comes to visit you Warnings: 18+ mdni. dark. dubcon (captivity, threats), dirty talk, dvp, gangbang, degradation, knife play, praise kink, oral (f/f, m receiving), violence, a little blood, ass play, light rimming, slapping, spanking, unprotected piv, creampies Writer chose not to use all warnings. If you need to know before you read, DM me a/n: Thank you Kate @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the ideas, and for beta-ing me as always 💕🫶🫶 The Prodigy - Firestarter | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist

Main masterlist | Part 2

“That’s it baby. Fuck her with your tongue” Joel said, as he was thrusting into you from behind.

He had been fucking both of you since the beginning of the evening, and you had already cum several times. Sometimes he would pause to watch you two kiss, touch, lick each other, while he was lazily jerking off, before starting to fuck one of you again.

She was lying in front of you, her thighs open and her pussy dripping, and you were never tired of pleasuring her, whether with your fingers or your tongue.

She was holding her breasts and moaning. Sometimes her fingers would squeeze your hair, before going back to caress her breasts. You knew she was playing with her body and mind, making her orgasm approach and then slow it down, and you couldn't help but smile as your tongue delved into her as deep as possible. You lapped at her hole, from which little wetness flowed, you were so greedy to lick everything from her.

Sometimes you lingered on her clit with the tip of your tongue. And sometimes you lapped all the way to her ass, lingering on her tight ring. Very quickly, you had wanted to lick and caress every inch of her body, and you couldn't get enough of it.

You often slept together, and regularly Joel, Tommy or one of the guards would wake you up at night. Her presence reassured you, and made things easier. Although overall, everything was going “well”. According to Joel's rules.

Joel’s hands were clinging to your hips and you heard him moan louder and louder. He slid his hand up to your clit and stroked you.

“I want you to come. Both of you.”

You slipped two fingers into her pussy, fingering her the way she liked it. Night after night, you got to know her body, her sensitive places, the ones she didn't react to. You learnt how to do it, wanting to please her when both of you had sex.

Your lips hovered over her clit before you sucked it gently. Then your tongue played with it, swirling it under your tip. Without realizing it, you were applying the same rhythm with your tongue that Joel was applying with his fingers, on your clit.

You did your best to still concentrate and make her cum. She was moaning, and said “Fuck me with your tongue, honey.”

You stuck your tongue in her pussy and she started to caress her clit with her fingers. You looked at them, the way they moved, and you were captivated by her gestures.

You felt her pussy tighten around your fingers.

“I’m gonna come baby… I… Fuck… fuck yeah.”

You came to lap at her clit, mixing your tongue with her fingers, then, one last time, you pushed your tongue into her pussy to drink it all, taking everything from her. Her spasms became less frequent and you let your pleasure rise. Two minutes later you were cuming under Joel's fingers, your eyes still fixed on her pussy and on her stomach which rose and fell to the rhythm of her breathing.

“Lie down,” Joel said, pulling out of you.

You lay down and couldn't help but turn towards her and kiss her before rolling back onto your back. Joel looked at both of you, standing against the bed and jerking off quickly, hand clenching his shaft tightly. He looked from one to the other, and came, his jaw clenched, the ropes of cum hitting your two bodies.

Before leaving, he told her that the next evening she was going to the usual house, and that she would meet Tommy, two other guards, and him there.

The next evening, after she left, you heard the door open and then footsteps on the stairs. A guard you didn't know came into your room. Thirties, brown hair, very light beard. Piercing gaze. He was wearing tactical clothes.

“I’m Veracruz. Ever heard of me?”

“No I haven’t. Should I have?”

He didn’t answer.

You stared at each other without saying another word for a few moments before he asked, “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

Ok, you weren't in a 5 stars brothel, but his attitude was different from what you had dealt with so far.

“Um…Joel isn’t with you?”

He pointed his arm at the bedroom door, turning to face it, as if your stupid question required no other answer.

You got down on your knees. He moved closer until his crotch was a few inches from your face and with a nod he motioned you to unbutton it. You did as he wanted and pulled his cock out of his pants. It was thick, long. Two big veins on the same side.

“Why are you staring? Suck it.”

Given his attitude, there was no point in taking your time, you dropped your saliva on his cock and started to suck him, while jerking him off with one hand.

Quickly, he placed his hands on either side of your head and fucked your mouth. Not so much that you would choke on his cock, but quite roughly. You looked up at him, trying to catch his eyes, but his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed. Suddenly he stopped his movement, holding you against him and pushing his cock further into your throat.

“Keep it in”, he said, his eyes on you this time.

He released you and you coughed, trying to catch your breath while holding your throat. When you glanced up, he was smiling, looking at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked him.

“You’re just a slut who’s here to get fucked, did you forget or something?”

“Not… not like that. There are rules.”

“Mmmm sure. And deep throats aren’t allowed?”

“Yes… yes they are. Of course but…”

“Okay so stop whining, and take it once again. Stick out your tongue.”

You obeyed, and he placed the tip of his cock on your tongue, enjoying its movements towards your mouth, then pulling it back. He leaned down and spat on his cock, stopping to watch his saliva drip into your mouth.

Despite his unpleasant demeanour, you found him hot.

“Get on all fours, now.”

You got yourself on your hands and knees. Veracruz did pulled your panties aside and spread the folds of your pussy.

“Are you acting prude while you're wet como una puta?”

Before you had time to respond, you heard metal brush against fabric. By the time you were wondering if he was holding a knife, he grabbed your panties with one hand and cut the fabric with the blade.

You tried to get up but he grabbed your hip. “It’s just a knife, baby. I like things a little… spicy.” He threw the knife on the bed.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, rubbing the tip against your folds, soaking it with your wetness. He stroked his cock several times and you felt that you were getting even wetter, with his head rubbing your clit. Finally, he rested his cock against your entrance and pushed. He grunted as he thrusted into you. He placed both his hands on your hips and began to fuck you.

“That’s good. So good. Your pussy’s good.”

He was fucking you thoroughly, and you forgot about the knife.

He was giving it to you so well, actually, that you accompanied his movements and began to fuck yourself on his cock, stretching your ass back to hit against his hips.

“What a slut… you like it, huh?”

You moaned without responding, and he pulled your hair.

“Fucking answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Yes! Yes I like it.”

He released you and started fucking you harder.

“Fuck! Such a whore. You take it good, damn.”

His attitude and the way he fucked you made you melt. You couldn't help but moan, louder and louder. You liked his roughness, the way he spoke to you.

Each stroke threw you forward, and with each stroke he squeezed your hips again so that you impaled yourself on his cock, and you followed his movements with pleasure.

He pulled out of you, and commanded, “Turn around now. On your back."

You did as he said, and he jerked off, looking at you, kneeling on the bed, before grabbing the knife again.

“Let’s play a little bit, okay?”

"What do you mean?" You tried to keep your voice steady.

“Just to test your sensitivity.”

He lay on top of you and placed the blade against your throat. You tensed up and he said “Stop fidgeting. I know the rules. Do you think I'd do something to piss Joel off?”

You relaxed. He was right. He was probably just a little more “playful” than the other guards.

He ran the blade from one side of your throat to the other, before moving up to one of your ears, without taking his eyes off you. He smiled when your hairs stood up.

He then slid the blade down to one of your breasts and then your nipple. You looked at him, transfixed, when he put his mouth on your nipple and sucked it. He was doing it well and you moaned. He stood up and picked up his knife again, placed it at your sternum, and slid the blade down. He placed the tip of the blade on your navel, cutting you slightly. A bead of blood appeared and he leaned down to lick it off.

“Sorry, baby,” he said.

His behavior excited you and the adrenaline drove you crazy. You squirmed on the bed, waiting for what was going to happen next.

“You want my cock?”

You nodded.

“Ask for it then, slut.”

“Give me your cock. Fuck me.”

He smiled and said “Joel found a damn bitch….”

He placed the knife on the nightstand, took off his shirt, keeping his pants on, and lay on top of you, pushing his cock into your pussy in one stroke.

“Fuck!”, you said.

He licked your skin from your collarbone and your ear, before coming to bite on your earlobe.

He whispered in your ear, “Fuck… it feels good to fuck a pussy that doesn’t smell like piss.”

You froze, and he grabbed his gun from the back of his pants. He pointed it at your temple.

“Who… who are you?”

“I’m one of the guards of the shithouse. And I'm tired of always fucking the same two bitches. So from time to time, I'm gonna come here and fuck you. And you’re not gonna say anything to Joel, or anyone, because I guarantee if you do I’ll open your smile from one ear to the other.”

You watched him telling you this, as he thrusted in you again. He put the gun down and gripped your throat with his hand, stopping his hips movement.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You nodded and he grabbed your chin.

“Fuckin answer me.”

“Yes! Yes I understand.”

“That’s better. Now I’m gonna fuck you, like I wanna fuck you. I'm afraid I'm not gonna be very gentle. And you're gonna shut up, okay? I like when bitches scream, but unfortunately I can't attract too much attention with you. You understand?"

“Yes,” you replied.

"Good."

He thrusted into you suddenly and you screamed.

“You’re cute,” he said, chuckling.

His cock was sinking into you and despite the situation you couldn't help but feel pleasure. He knew exactly how to fuck you. He asked you to get on all fours again, plunged into you, and spat on your ass, dragging saliva with his thumb.

“No! No please…”

“Mmmm… It’s sad, but I can't fuck your ass today. I don't have time for that and I can’t hurt you. Now come on, you remember what Joel wants, don't you? He wants you to cum. I don’t really care, but we have to respect the rules, right?”

He pressed a little more on your ass with his thumb, and you had a hard time relaxing.

“I won't stop until you cum. So if you want it to end, you know what to do.”

You bent your elbows to rest on your forearms, and you began rubbing yourself. He slowed his movements and went less deeply. You focused on your body, and he felt your pussy starting to contract and said “what a slut. You’re gonna cum on my cock after I threatened you with my gun 5 minutes ago.”

Your pussy clenched, and you came hearing his words.

“Yeah… just like that. What a fucking whore. It’d be cool if you joined the shithouse. You know that's what's gonna happen if Joel finds out you let me fuck you, right?”

You froze when you heard him.

He kept pounding you, his cock going deep with each stroke.

“Maybe he'll beat the shit out of me as an example, but you'll end up covered in piss and cum from morning to night.”

“No please… don’t tell him…”

He grabbed one of your breasts and pulled you up against him, continuing to fuck you as harder as ever.

“Then I guess you’ll have to let me fuck you, each time I want to, and how I want to.” He released your breast and pushed you forward again, forcing you to support yourself on your hands. He slammed into you with one hard thrust, bottoming out, and staying buried inside you for a few moments.

He grabbed the gun and slid its barrel down your spine, up to your ass. He pressed the muzzle against your ring, his left hand still clinging to your hip.

“I’m gonna cum… fuck…”

He pulled out and spread your ass cheeks, placing his tip against your ass. He jerked off and came against your ring, and said “mmmmm…next time.”

He stood up and you collapsed against the mattress.

Before leaving, he told you “Remember, if you don’t want to end up in the shithouse, you keep your mouth shut.”

That night, you slept with the sheets tight against you, hoping no one would come. Nobody came. You didn't know what to do after what he told you. The next day at breakfast, she tried to talk to you but you had difficulty maintaining the conversation. A few days passed without anyone coming. You and her slept together a few times, but you didn’t fuck. Several times she looked at you thoughtfully, but you said nothing to her.

A guard came to pick you up a week later, to take you to the house. Joel and Tommy were there when you arrived.

“It’s been a while baby, I missed you”, Tommy said, holding you close against him, his hands gripping your ass. You felt better, his body against yours. You were used to him, to Joel, and their familiar presence reassured you.

“We’ll wait for him before we start, Tommy,” Joel said.

“Yeah I know, I know. But I wanna fuck that pretty pussy, man”, he said smiling and spanking you lightly before releasing you.

The door opened, and Veracruz entered. You turned to Joel, trying to keep your surprise to yourself.

“Who… who is it?”

“A shithouse guard. He's getting a little impatient there. He’s a good guard, so I figure he deserves a little reward.”

“Are you and Tommy gonna stay?”

"Yeah. Veracruz is the nervous type. I don’t want him to damage you”, he laughed.

Veracruz smiled as he looked at you and you felt panic overcome you. You were afraid that Joel would find out what happened and send you to the shithouse.

“Are you ok? You look a little pale”, Veracruz smirked.

Joel looked at you and asked if you were okay.

"Yes, yes. Sorry. I didn’t know the shithouse guards could… fuck us.”

“You have to give rewards from time to time, baby. Now go get undressed and lie down.”

You began to undress, trying to stop the anxiety that kept building. You felt your heart beating quickly. Way too fast. You were afraid that Joel and Tommy would realize something was wrong, that you already knew Veracruz.

You felt the tears welling up and you narrowed your eyes to stop them, as you unbuttoned your blouse then took off your pants. You grabbed the hem of your panties but Veracruz said “no, keep them. Go lie down.”

You realized that your eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke, and you forced yourself to look at him before going to lay down on the bed. Veracruz followed you and took out his knife. The same he had already used on you. You looked at Joel, scared. He just nodded, looking at you.

“Spread your thighs”, Veracruz ordered.

He dragged the blade against the hem of your panties, just below your belly button, and yanked upwards, tearing the fabric in one swipe. Your thighs clenched, as your stomach shook with fear. Not scared that he would hurt you per se. Scared that you could no longer contain yourself, no longer pretend that it was the first time you met him. And then what Joel would do with you.

He slid the blade under the fabric again, and tore it a second time, almost all the way to your clit.

“Ok that’s enough. Put the knife aside now”, Joel said.

“Sure boss”, he replied.

He grabbed your panties and tore them in half with his hands, then he unbuttoned his pants and spat into his hand. He jerked off quickly and laid on top of you, thrusting in without waiting for you to get used to his girth. You held back a cry as you bit your lip, your fingers clenching on his biceps, trying in vain to stop him from sinking too far into you.

“Ah, fuck, that’s good.”

He started to thrust into you, his cock hitting your cervix painfully.

“This pussy’s not too stretched. Not like the ones I usually fuck. We really damaged those”, he laughed.

“This pussy’s perfect, man. And she’s such a slut, always ready to take it, right baby?” said Tommy, who had come closer. He didn't wait for you to respond, and slipped his cock straight into your mouth.

“Yeah, just like that. You’re a natural born sucker baby.”

Veracruz was leaning on his forearms, thrusting into you and watching Tommy’s cock slip in and out of your mouth.

“Yeah, such a whore, ready to take any cock, in any hole. Aren’t ya?”

You didn’t answer, trying to concentrate on Tommy’s member. Trying to think about something else rather than Veracruz’s length deep in your core. Tommy placed his hand on your cheek and said: “that’s it baby, keep going. You’re so good for my cock. Love your mouth. You know I do, right?”

You nodded and let Tommy impose his rhythm, he was using your mouth the way you liked it, and his praise was turning you on, as always. You were getting wetter and wetter, and the sounds of Veracruz's cock in your pussy couldn’t hide it.

“I wanna assfuck her, Joel”, said Veracruz, and you came back to reality, suddenly pulling your mouth away from Tommy. Your legs tightened beneath Veracruz without you being able to help it, and you looked at Joel, then at Tommy. You couldn’t make out what Joel was thinking, but Tommy was clearly surprised by your reaction. He turned to his brother, while Veracruz continued to pound you.

“Nah. Wanna try something new with her”, said Joel. “Get on all fours, and ride Tommy.”

Veracruz pulled out and stood up from the bed, visibly annoyed, as Tommy slid under you. Joel unzipped his pants, and you started to relax again. You have been used to both of them for several weeks now, and even though they were rough, your brain and body have accepted it.

Tommy grabbed his cock with one hand and rubbed it against your folds. He pressed his dick against your entrance, put his hands on your hips and thrusted into you. Veracruz started jerking off while looking at you. You threw your head back at the sensations of Tommy’s cock spreading your pussy, as you impaled yourself on it. You loved feeling it inside you, feeling that cock you knew well by now. Joel moved closer to the bed and Tommy grabbed your neck. “Suck my brother’s cock,” he said, as he turned your face towards Joel’s dick. You took it into your mouth, letting him sink in. He growled and pinched one of your nipples. You looked up at Joel as he fucked your mouth, one hand resting on the back of your neck. Tommy lay almost motionless, and you rolled your hips on his cock.

“That’s it baby. Fuck yourself on my dick. You’re so pretty, your mouth full of my brother’s cock.” Once again, Tommy’s praise was turning you on, and you tilted your pelvis slightly to rub your clit against his lower abdomen while continuing to suck Joel.

“You’re gonna make yourself come baby? Look at that, Tommy, she’s using your cock like a perfect whore.”

“She always does, huh? Such a good slut for these cocks. And this time, she has three real cocks for her, capable of fucking her for more than 2 minutes.” You moaned, hearing them talking about you as if you weren’t even there. Both brothers laughed thinking about the guard who always had fucked you badly, while Veracruz continued to jerk off. You felt your arousal rising even higher and you kept grinding yourself against Tommy. Your moans were increasing, and Joel withdrew from your mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Come on my brother’s cock. You’re doing great. Soak his dick with your juice.”

As you were cuming, you let yourself go forward on Tommy's torso, and Joel knelt behind you, positioning himself at your entrance, against Tommy's cock already buried inside your cunt. You felt him push and you said “Joel no, that’s too much!” Tommy held you against him, preventing you from turning around.

“Shut up, you’re drippin’. You’re gonna take us both, relax”, said Joel.

He placed his hand on your back to press you completely against Tommy’s torso and he thrusted in slowly, gripping his cock firmly with his hand. You felt your pussy spreading apart around this second cock sinking inside you, tears in the corners of your eyes.

“You’re gonna do it, baby. You’re the best slut we’ve ever fucked,” Tommy said in your ear. You didn't know if he said that because he thought so, or because he knew it would make it less painful. Joel had his eyes fixed on his cock, as he thrusted into you, inch by inch.

“Breath baby… It’s ok. Oh fuck that’s good”, added Tommy.

Joel reached all the way down and grabbed your hips, holding you completely down on those two cocks deep inside you. The feeling was so strong that you wondered if you were going to pass out. You felt your eyes roll and Tommy slapped you lightly so you could come to your senses.

“Hey, baby, what’s goin’ on? These two fat cocks are too much for you?” He and Joel laughed and Veracruz added “damn…you’re tearing that bitch apart.”

Joel started to pull back and you groaned. Tommy grabbed your chin to force you to look at him.

“The best pussy I’ve ever fucked. And we fucked a lot of them.”

Joel thrusted in again, faster. He said “Veracruz, come get your dick sucked.” Veracruz immediately moved closer, pushing his cock into your mouth.

Both brothers were thrusting into you, Tommy moving slowly, while Joel held back less and less. You were trying to suck Veracruz off as best you could, considering your pussy being spread wide by the two members.

“Ready to take my place Veracruz?" asked Joel. "Ain’t gonna last, that pussy’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard. I’m gonna fill her up.”

“Who are you askin’, man”, the guard replied.

Joel grunted, thrusting in 3, 4 more times, and he came deep inside your pussy, his fingers digging into your hips. He finally pulled out and you moaned. You felt the mattress rise, with Joel's weight off, then lowering again as Veracruz settled in behind you. He grabbed your neck with one hand, and guided his cock into your pussy with his other hand in one go, helped by Joel's cum leaking out.

“Can’t believe you can fuck that bitch day and night”, said Veracruz, pounding in you.

“I’m gonna come baby. I’m gonna shoot my cum in your fuckin’ pussy,” said Tommy.

He turned your head to the side, to make you look at Joel, and said “every time I fuck you, it makes me even harder when I think about the cocks your holes can take.” He gave you a hard hip thrust, and came deep in your pussy, mixing his cum with Joel's.

Veracruz pulled back slightly to let Tommy get up off the bed, before thrusting in again, roughly this time.

Joel said “Tommy, let’s go.”

You shouted “NO!”, afraid that Veracruz might hurt you, without Joel and Tommy.

He grabbed your hips, as all three stopped when they heard you.

“Why don’t you want to stay with him?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m not comfortable with the idea of being alone with him… He doesn’t have the same rules.”

"Sure he does know the rules well. Right, Veracruz?”

“Of course, Joel.”

“See? No problem.”

“Please, Joel…” you pleaded. Veracruz started fucking you again, oblivious to your worry, and Joel and Tommy left, leaving the door open.

“My turn, bitch.”

He spanked you, and sank in, his hand fixed on your neck, forcing you to keep your ass up. Grunting at each thrust.

“You’re so full of cum, fuck, it turns me on.”

He grabbed his knife and pressed the blade to your throat, still pounding you hard.

“What are you gonna do, now that you’re alone with me?”

“You can’t hurt me. They’d know.”

“Yeah, but I can still have a little fun with you.”

He thrusted in you slower, and moved the knife lightly from under your chin to your ear.

“I can’t wait to come fuck you in your bed.”

You were paralyzed, already afraid of the moment he would come into your bedroom. Afraid that Joel would know.

He dropped his knife, pulled your hair, and added, “I really can’t wait to fuck your ass, baby.”

You heard his breathing speed up, until he came deep inside your pussy as well. He spanked you one last time, pulled out and buttoned his pants. Before leaving, he whispered in your ear, “See you next time, baby. I can’t wait.”

You got dressed, trying not to cry.

When you came out of the house a few minutes later, all the guards were in the yard. Veracruz had blood running down his chin, and Joel was standing in front of him.

He shouted “shithouse guards, fuck shithouse girls. Unless I allow them to fuck one of the other girls.”

He pulled a revolver from the back of his pants, pressed the muzzle to the guard’s forehead and shot Veracruz with no warning. You covered your mouth with your hand, horrified, scared of what would happen to you.

“At least, he got laid before he took that bullet”, he laughed, looking at Tommy.

“My women, my rules!”

The guards left, and Tommy told you to go back to your bedroom.

A few minutes later, Joel joined you and leant against the door.

You murmured, “How did you know?”

“Your girlfriend said you didn’t wanna fuck her. That you seemed sad and tense, she was worried. I talked to some guys. Someone said Veracruz was smug, a few days ago. Your attitude earlier confirmed what happened.”

“Why did you let him fuck me today?”

“To teach you a lesson. You should’ve told me.”

“When I understood he was one of those guys, he said…” you stopped talking.

“What did he say?”

“He said if you knew I had let him fuck me, you’d put me in the shithouse as a punishment.”

“Well obviously that was bullshit. Don’t ever hide something from me anymore. Got it?”

You nodded.

“This pussy’s mine. I allow some guys to fuck it, but it’s mine. All the pussies are mine, here. If a guy doesn’t respect that, he’s dead.”

He left.

Part 4

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

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ��️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@survivingandenduring @casa-boiardi @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @quaritchscupquake @maryrhodalouandted @pixielou5

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bridgertonbabe · 10 months ago

Note

I’m popping this here in case you get the urge

But the great Cluedo incident of ‘19…

I need to know what happened!!

BSSG Group Chat

Penelope: So other than all of that

Penelope: How did you enjoy your first game night @ Phillip @ Michael?

Michael:

Phillip: ⬆⬆⬆

Michael: To say I didn't enjoy a single second of last night would be an understatement

Simon: Yeah sounds about right.

Phillip: I can't lie.

Phillip: I did google how to go about getting a restraining order.

Penelope: Honestly Phil that's fair

Simon: I did the same thing after my first game night with them

Phillip: Did you actually go through with it?

Simon: I really was on the verge of it ngl

Simon: But alas, I knew it would be far more trouble than it's worth.

Simon: And besides I should have known what I was marrying into after my first game of pall mall 💀

Penelope: And look as much as we love you guys, if the events of last night were enough to scare you off we'd completely and whole-heartedly understand if you wanted to go NC with the rest of the fam.

Phillip: Just one question

Phillip: Is it just game nights and pall mall that sets them all off like that?

Michael: Yeah we really need to know now if they're triggered like that by anything else

Michael: Because if so...

Simon: It's only anything competitive that sets them all off in that way.

Simon: You have my word on that.

Penelope: ⬆⬆⬆

Penelope: Yes and they're particularly at their worst when they're playing as a family.

Penelope: They really know how to push each others buttons but none of them know when to draw the line

Michael: Yeah no shit

Michael: I managed to pick up on that last night when I was trying to put out an actual fucking fire

Simon: I do have to say that last night was an all time low

Simon: They really were all at their absolute worst

Simon: Even I didn't think they could collectively be that bad, especially after the Pictionary incident of '16

Phillip: I mean I guess it's somewhat of a relief to hear that last night wasn't just a bog standard Bridgerton game night

Phillip: Though from the way you guys are talking about it and now with the mentioned "Pictionary incident", it seems their game nights are always a cause for concern and never fun in general

Michael: Very that

Kate: What?!

Kate: What are you talking about?

Kate: Of course game nights are fun!

Penelope:

Simon: Kate

Simon: Are you actually insane

Kate: Just because last night got a little bit crazy doesn't mean game nights on the whole aren't fun!

Phillip: A little bit crazy????

Penelope: Kate multiple people had to go to hospital last night

Kate: Yeah and?

Kate: It's not like it's the first game night we've ended up in A&E

Michael:

Michael: What do you mean this isn't the first game night that you've ended up in A+E?????

Phillip: ⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆

Phillip: ???????????????

Penelope: Kate 2 casualties as a result of a Bridgerton game night is to be expected but 9 is still nine more than any of us would like

Michael: 2 casualties...

Michael: 2 CASUALTIES IS TO BE EXPECTED?!?!?!?

Phillip: I

Kate: Omg Pen it wasn't 9 casualties

Kate: The doctors were just covering their arses with keeping most of them in over night

Kate: They were fine

Simon: They had smoke inhalation Kate

Michael: Your husband had his eyebrows burnt off

Penelope: Which is what happens when you and Anthony throw a tandem strop and set the kitchen alight

Kate: Objection!

Kate:

Kate: If you want to point the finger at who caused the fire then look no further than your wife @ Simon

Simon: First of all I wasn't pointing fingers

Simon: And secondly I was too busy trying to stem Greg's bleeding to notice the fire happening or who caused

Kate: Deflect all you want but your wife was the firestarter 🔥🔥🔥

Kate: The number of casualties was only so high because of her

Penelope: God I just hope Sophie's ok

Michael: Yeah ngl she's the only one I'm concerned for

Kate: I'm sure she's perfectly fine

Kate: Seriously you guys need to chill

Kate: I don't know why you're all being so negative about last night

Phillip: HYACINTH BOUGHT A FUCKING SWITCHBLADE TO A GAME NIGHT

Michael:

Kate: Omg why are you so mad?

Kate: It's not like she attacked you

Phillip: Oh and I should be so fucking grateful should I???

Phillip: That after attacking 3 others Anthony wrestled it off of her before she could get to me????

Michael: Who tf even let her have a switchblade in the first place???

Penelope: I did tell Colin he'd live to regret getting it for her

Phillip: And he got it for her because?!?!

Penelope: It was the one thing she asked him for when he was in Japan and he thought she just wanted it for ornamental reasons even though I explicitly warned him that definitely wasn't the case

Sophie sent a photo

Penelope: Omg Sophie!!!!

Penelope: 😍

Sophie: Everyone, meet Alexander 💙

Simon: Oh thank god, congrats Soph! x

Michael: Aw made up for you Soph, he's a right lil beauty! 😘

Phillip: Congrats Sophie 🤗

Penelope: He's so beautiful 🥰 how did it go?

Sophie: As smoothly as it could be considering he's 3 weeks early

Michael: I have to say Ben's rocking that eye patch

Sophie: I mean it's not exactly the get up I expected our son to meet his dad wearing but c'est la vie

Simon: How's Charlie finding being a big brother?

Sophie: I think he's more delighted with his dad looking like a pirate than with his baby brother tbh

Sophie: He very excitedly went to his dress up box and put on his pirate costume so he could be just like his daddy and refused to take it off when we were taking photos of him with Alex.

Sophie sent a photo

Penelope: Oh bless him he looks pleased as punch

Sophie: He couldn't hand Alex back to me fast enough so he could have a sword fight with Ben and make him walk the plank

Phillip: Btw just wanted to say Sophie that I'm really sorry that El accused you of faking your water breaking just to get out of the game.

Penelope: I'm sorry on Colin's behalf too Soph

Sophie: It's ok guys, I appreciate it and besides you were the ones who called the ambulance for me.

Simon: Unlike someone.

Michael: @ Kate

Kate: Omg Alex is absolutely gorgeous, congrats Soph! x

Simon: ...

Simon: Anything else you'd like to say?

Penelope: Yeah any apology to extend?

Kate: Ok ok ok

Kate: Sophie I know I didn't believe you were in labour and refused to call an ambulance

Kate: But from my side of things it just seemed really convenient that your contractions started just as you were losing

Michael: This isn't an apology???

Simon: Your newborn nephew isn't evidence enough that you were clearly in the wrong???

Kate: Ok fine I'm sorry for not calling an ambulance when you needed it Sophie!

Sophie: K.

Kate: But I will add, who's to say she didn't fake contractions and then get induced once she got to the hospital?

Sophie has left the chat.

Michael: Jesus fucking Christ

Simon has removed Kate from the chat.

Simon has added Sophie to the chat.

Simon: Don't worry I removed her.

Sophie: Thanks Simon x

Phillip: One more question.

Phillip: Did the Bridgertons corrupt Kate to be like that or was she god forbid like that anyway?

Penelope: Unfortunately Kate married in being equally as deranged as them in any competitive setting 😔

Michael:

Simon: Very that.

#asks #gareth and lucy are absent since this incident predates their entries into the fam and gc #group chat au #bridgerton spouses

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thatonebirdwrites · 1 month ago

Text

Embers

AO3 Link (Continuation from Dress)

Kara sights her adversary on the wall just above one of the displays for artifacts from Indigenous tribes of North America. Despite the red cloak and ridiculously large hat, Kara knows it's Lena hanging there. Lena has carefully cut a hole in the glass enclosure, somehow turned off the alarm, and has the artifact in her gloved hand.

"Halt," Kara calls. She whips out her stun gun. "Don't make me shoot."

Lena raises a beautifully sculpted eyebrow. "Ah, I wondered when my favorite agent would arrive. Quite a dashing appearance I would say."

Kara tries not to preen at the compliment. She wears a suit and tie, mostly to blend in with the gala on the other side of the museum. Her team had been on high alert due to yet another invitation by LKW. Her boss, Alex, had been certain it was the jewels LKW sought, but Kara knows better.

Lena's past thefts had been highly specific cultural items from various Indigenous tribes throughout the world. Despite several of Kara's best contacts scouring the black market discreetly and preparing to buy any of the stolen artifacts, nothing Lena steals ever shows up in the auctions. Nor in private sales, at least the ones Kara's friends Nia and J'onn can access.

So where does Lena take them? It's haunted Kara for quite awhile.

"Why that artifact?" Kara asks. "It's just an old firestarter. Best you can get with that is embers."

Lena tucks the artifact into a pocket in the interior of her cloak. "Come now, agent, surely you have more imagination than that?" She swings to the next display. This one holds a set of fabrics, many intricately woven with dyed strands. She carefully cuts another circle and the embers of her torch sends sparks across the top of the glass.

"Are you seriously just going to continue?" Kara can't believe it. "I'm literally pointing a gun at you."

"You won't shoot it." Lena smiles and removes the circle with a flick of her finger. It flips over onto the other half of the glass top. "You never do. So instead of that tiresome posturing, play a game with me." She grins and reaches in to nab the next artifact. "Guess why I take these."

Kara frowns. "Toying with me now?"

"Oh I know you love it," Lena teases. She winks. "And I bet our last kiss has haunted your dreams."

Kara's face reddens. She will never admit it, but that kiss does indeed haunt her dreams and waking moments. In fact, she's half-thinking of it right now. Both of them dangling by rope as they make out-- "Dammit, stop that." Her face turns a darker shade of red when she realizes she said it out loud.

Lena laughs, and it's a gorgeous ripple of gold that sparks embers deep in Kara's gut. God, she wants to hear that laugh again and again.

"So the truth has been revealed." She tugs her bag to her side and carefully tucks the fabrics into it. "Now, our game? Or are you too flustered to think?" Another wink has Kara wishing she'd stuck to the other side of the gala.

Her gun lowers, while she struggles to regain an upper hand. "You poisoned me with that kiss." As much as it stings that the kiss had been merely to distract, Kara finds herself far more forgiving of Lena than she ought to be.

"Hardly," Lena scoffs. "My lipstick contained a trace amount of a phenylpropanoid derived from nutmeg, which can be hallucinogenic at certain doses, but it also has antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory properties. It's used in medicinal tonics in Southern Asia." She swings to the last display case in this exhibit. "I believe it important to the health of my favorite agent to occasionally loosen you up."

That's followed up with a wink.

Which only makes Kara want to kiss her even more.

"Well, I certainly did let loose," Kara says, her cheeks likely burning so red that she might as well be on fire. How does Lena stoke her so creepily well? Kara fights a spell of arousal after every conversation they share. It's maddening.

"Fine, I'll play your game. But after, I'm bringing you in. You're in a very disadvantageous position, Ms. Walsh, hanging from the ceiling."

"Am I? Oh, whatever shall I do?" Lena feigns a dramatic faint with one hand to her forehead. "My big bad agent will surely have to rescue me from this dreadful predicament."

Kara's face burns. "Big bad agent? Come now, I'm not that big."

"Tell that to your deltoids and biceps," Lena shoots back.

Which is a valid point. Kara does work out enough to have decently defined muscles, but she's not that beefy, is she? She flexes one arm, and to her amusement, Lena stares at her, her cutting momentarily distracted. The flame sizzles in the air above the glass.

"Oh, a muscle lover?" Kara teased. She flexes her other arm, and Lena bites her lip and quickly looks down at her torch.

The sparks glint blue as she completes her circular cut. "You have two guesses. I will reply with the truth for one guess and a lie for the other."

"One truth and one lie?" Kara puts her hands on her hips. "You don't make it easy, do you?"

Lena chuckles and slides the cut glass to one side. "And miss out on your famous detective skills? I think not. Dazzle me, agent."

She reaches inside to take out a clay vessel that has the shape of a frog with a tall snout sticking out of its back. To Kara's surprise, Lena takes her time gently wrapping the vessel in a massive amount of cloth from her bag.

"The items you steal never show up on the black market, so either someone commissions you to steal them or you have private dealers to avoid detection." It's been Kara's best guess for awhile now.

Lena raises an eyebrow. "Interesting guess. What evidence do you have that I'm selling them at all?"

Kara frowns. "It's the typical reason for theft. Usually those who frequent museums and university antique libraries like you sell on the black market or were commissioned by a wealthy collector."

"Wealthy." Lena laughs, but it's different than the whimsical laugh earlier. This one is darker, more dangerous, and her green eyes glint with an intensity that leaves Kara feeling incredibly parched. "Indeed, I expected a bit more imagination, Kara."

It's the first time Lena used Kara's first name only, and her intense gaze has Kara squirming.

She feels suddenly inadequate, simply because it never occurred to her that Lena might not be selling the artifacts at all. "The other possibility is you seek to gather an illegal collection for your own amusement."

Lena sighs, and that alone fills Kara with shame, as if she'd failed a test she hadn't known she was taking. "Kara, look at what I'm holding." She holds up the heavily wrapped vessel. "This is an extremely rare frog vessel from the Anasazi tribe in Southern United States. Descendants of the Anasazi live in reservations, forced off their lands, and often considered an extinct tribe."

"Okay, so you know your history, but why steal it?" Kara asks.

"Let me ask you this," Lena says, her voice suddenly serious. "If your agency raided an illegal black market auction that had thousands of stolen artifacts, what would be the fate of those artifacts?"

Kara frowns. "Hey, I thought I was the one to ask questions here."

"Answer the question, agent." The sharpness in Lena's voice takes Kara by surprise. This doesn't feel much like a game anymore.

"We put them in evidence bags and that goes to the department that handles artifact storage and analysis..." she trails off, her mind spinning at the implications.

"And once that department analyzes them, where do they go?"

"Often to museums..." A sick feeling curls through Kara's stomach.

"And where are we currently?"

"A museum in San Francisco..." Kara meets Lena's gaze, and for the first time, doubt curdles through her. "You're not taking these to sell them, are you? You're taking them to return them."

Lena smiles and tucks the frog vessel into her pack. "Perhaps you have a brain after all."

"But why do this? If you're caught, no one is going to care that you are returning cultural artifacts to their respective tribes." Kara frowns and crosses her arms. "The risk feels too high for the relative value--"

Lena loosens the carabiner on her rope and drops to the ground in front of Kara. The movement startles her, and Kara breaks off midsentence.

Tenderly, Lena reaches out to touch Kara's face, her glove warm. "And if I ever let love go, / because the hatred and the whisperings / of a phantom dictate I obey," Lena whispers, her eyes searching Kara's as if Kara herself held the artifacts she sought. She leans closer, her breath warm against Kara's skin.

Her words ignite a fire so deep, that Kara feels like she's burning from the inside out. Her right hand disobeys her and lightly touches Lena's waist.

"... then let love freeze me out," Lena continues, "I must, I must become a menace to my enemies."

The last line hits Kara like punch to her gut. "That's by June Jordan," she says, stunned. "My Aunt Astra loved that poem."

"Astra El, a brilliant strategist and freedom fighter in the Kaznia war against Russia." Lena's heterochromatic eyes pierced Kara's like daggers. "A war they lost brutally, their country pillaged and left in severe poverty. A great many refugees lay scattered throughout Western Nations."

"How do you know all that?" Kara says, her eyes wide. She's never talked about her past before with anyone. Not even Alex, Nia, or J'onn. Her and Kal-el survived only because Aunt Astra smuggled them out when Kara was ten years old and Kal only three.

"I seek what is lost and restore it." An answer that tells Kara next to nothing. Lena smiles, sadly, her thumb rubbing against Kara's cheek. "We must become a menace to our enemies, Kara."

Kara takes in a sharp breath. Her hand moves to her belt. "I should handcuff you right now and drag you in."

Lena steps back and holds out her wrists. "Then do it."

Kara's hands shake as she pulls out the bulky handcuffs. They dangle from her right hand, but she can't bring herself to do it. Lena's words, the poetry, and most of all knowledge of Kara's beloved Aunt? Too many questions dance in her head.

Lena drops her hands to her side with a smile. "I thought so." She leans in close and kisses Kara's cheek. "Now as much as I enjoyed our chat, I really must be going."

Kara knows this is her last chance. Sure, maybe she can't bring herself to handcuff Lena Kieran Walsh, but she can flip an alarm by hitting the signal on her walkie-talkie. The rest of the agents will flood the room and secure their adversary finally. Kara will be heralded a hero instead of yelled at for failing yet again.

But their conversation unnerves her so much that Kara does nothing.

Instead, she watches as Lena climbs up the wall, walking as if it's a floor, her hands on the rope. At the ceiling, she proceeds to push a tile to one side. Darkness looms in the resulting hole.

Lena glances down at her with a sad smile, and her right eye glints a bit more blue than the other. "There's a cozy, Vietnamese restaurant in San Diego that has an excellent view of the Pacific Ocean. I hear the potstickers are to die for."

"Oh?" Kara wonders why Lena is telling her this.

"Think about it, Kara," Lena says softly, and her gaze holds Kara's with an intimacy that takes her breath away. Framed by the ceiling lights around her escape hatch, Lena looks almost like an ethereal angel. "Don't hush," she recites a poem that tickles Kara's memory, but not enough to identify it, "don't throw away, / the most persistent truth, / as our hard-headed brethren / sometimes do."

Kara raises her hand in response, but words fail to form on her lips. With one last lingering glance, Lena slips into the ceiling and the tile is replaced as if she'd never been there.

A silence descends on the room, and a heaviness wraps around Kara's heart.

She looks up at the cameras in the room, and wonders what they captured. Turning, she walks back the way she came, but instead of joining the gala again, she turns toward the security office.

Inside, she finds two men, one of them half-asleep, and the other typing into a computer. They look up at her entrance.

"Agent Kara Zorel of Interpol," she says and flashes her badge. "May I review your footage for the last fifteen minutes?"

"Don't see why not." The man at the computer gestures to the wall of screens. He taps out a command, and Kara watches each of them carefully.

But none show her and Lena talking. The room Lena had burglarized looks as if no one had stepped in it for ages.

Which means Lena either works with someone, who aids in altering security footage, or she set this up days in advance to disguise her tracks. It makes sense considering how useless past security footage always proved to be. The drones they set to fly the perimeter sometimes catches glimpses of her get-away vehicle, but each one turns into a dead-end, the name on the rental a nonexistent person.

"Thank you. My superior may be by again to review further footage." Kara nods to the men and exits back toward the gala. She sights several agents spread out discreetly throughout the large ballroom, and her boss, Alex, lingers near the stage, where the artifact sits. The one her team had been certain was LKW's target.

She wonders what Aunt Astra would think of her working for Interpol. Kara thought she did this in her Aunt's honor, but Lena's words darken her thoughts and litter them with a gnawing doubt.

Alex corners her only five minutes later at the drink table. "And where have you been for the last twenty minutes?"

Kara sighs. "Bathroom and a check with the security feeds." This is technically the truth since she did go to the bathroom after the visit with security, but it leaves her with a mounting guilt and confusion.

Why is she protecting Lena Kieran Walsh? Sure, she enjoys their conversations, the flirting, and definitely that kiss, but she's a thief, and a dangerous one at that. What does she owe Lena? And yet, she'd somehow known of her Aunt, and spoken of her with reverence. Why?

"And you've seen nothing?" Alex searches Kara's face as if trying to read her mind. "No parting diatribes with our darling thief?" A hint of sarcasm filters into Alex's tone.

"No, nothing." Kara picks up a glass of water and drinks it, her eyes on the stage, where a band plays and the newest piece for the museum sits on display. Some sort of silver calf with carved symbols that mean nothing to Kara.

But they likely meant something to the culture from which that calf came.

"I think this might have been a diversion," she says. "Send us here while she goes elsewhere."

"I hope not, but I'll put in feelers for any suspicious activity within the region." Alex places a hand on Kara's shoulder. "I know this case has been hard for you. Just remember, as charming as Ms. Walsh is, she's also a dangerous fugitive. We must bring her to justice."

Kara nods and manages a smile. She drinks her water instead of replying. Is what she's doing justice?

Or is Lena Kieran Walsh's thefts a truer justice?

An unanswerable question.

Disturbed, she finds a quiet corner to watch the gala attendees. But her attention lays scattered like the petals on the red carpet stage.

Lena's last worlds pulse in her head, and she can't help herself. Kara performs a search on her phone for a specific restaurant in San Diego that serves potstickers.

When the theft is discovered two hours later, she aids the others in the investigation, but Lena Kieran Walsh, as usual, left no fingerprints, and no clues other than the three precisely cut holes in the glass enclosures.

#supercorp #lena luthor #supergirl #kara zor el #kara x lena #kara danvers #supercorptober #supercorptober2024 #supercorp fanfic #carmen sandiego au

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thelostbaystudio · 1 year ago

Text

The Lost Bay - First Look Release

Your one-way ticket for the 90s that never were.

Today is the day! after countless play tests and tweaks The Lost Bay - First Look has been released digitally. In it you play as a young person touched by the Weird, an ancient force that gives you supernatural powers. You roam the Bay with your gang, its malls, arcade games shops, skateparks and beaches, and fight the Horror that has awakened.

Key features of the game:

1. You play Vibes. Each vibe has a distinct flavor and set of powers. You can play as Splinter, Screamer, Scanner, Firestarter, and many more. Vibes are granted custom growth opportunities: every time they fail at using a power they get a Scar, and this can include getting new powers, or discovering something about the Bay.

2.The lore of The Lost Bay is spread throughout the ruleset, tables, and game procedures. You’ll discover it as you create your character and play, without having to read boring lore text blocks. The lore of the Bay is embedded in the items, powers, Scars and NPCs you’ll encounter.

3.Open and play. Three attributes, two resources to manage (Heart and Weird), one mechanic to rule it all: a D6 dice pool. If you have a basic knowledge of tabletop RPGs you’ll need fifteen minutes to familiarize yourself with the ruleset.

GET THE LOST BAY FIRST LOOK

4.Weird is cool. And there’s a lot of it in the Bay: cults, curses, relics, and Living Saints. The Lost Bay is both a familiar playground and an uncanny world that portrays an alternate version of the 90s. It’s wicked enough to give you the chills, and it’s open enough for you to expand it the way you like.

Why the 90s?

Because they’re a decade where the ancient analog world mixes with the modern digital one. This mix creates infinite clashes and conflicts, ideal to spark tabletop RPG adventures, and horror stories.

The Bay itself is the incarnation of this contrast. Ancient creatures and forces dwell right next to modern technology and buildings. Even the playable characters embody this duality: they are archetypes inspired by the late 80s/90s media and culture, but their powers derive from the ancient and mysterious forces.

What you’ll get in the First Look edition?

Spooky Locations

Scary MOFOs

Supernatural Horror

Powerful Vibes

Loads of items

Relics

Living Saints and immortals

Story sparks

VHS, arcade games, skateboards, evil cults, demons, ghosts, blood and fear.

You can get the First look edition right now at an affordable price. The game PDF is updated on a weekly basis, and its price will increase as new sections are added. Meaning that the earliest you get it, the less you’ll pay for it. Pretty neat right? Funds collected will allow commissioning more art from Evangeline Gallagher and to pay for editing.

Have you ever wanted to play a zombie or a ghost? Now you can!

This week’s update features two new Vibes (playable character classes): the Half-Dead, and the Spirit. To unlock them you have to die first, and if you’re lucky enough you’ll become a Reborn. You might even get a Zombie cat pet.

MINIDUNGEON

If you have little time on your hands and are looking for a ready to play horror adventure compatible with The Lost Bay check UNIT DH-17. This suburban horror mini dungeon has been updated to fit The Lost Bay ruleset.

You can also get them both as a bundle with a 20% discount here https://itch.io/s/99423/the-lost-bay-rules-adventure

Weird is beautiful

Want to know where this game comes from, what it’s really about?

I grew up in an environment where toxic masculinity was the rule. Both at home, and outside of it. And by toxic, I mean horror-movie level toxic. Murders, blood and all. That was just the way things were, the world of the grown ups. Normalcy. I didn’t find that normal at all! I was pretty scared most of the time. But I was lucky enough to be part of a gang of kind souls. We loved each other and helped us survive the harsh world of the Bay. We were Geeks, Punks, Queers and Dreamers. The normies called us Weird. At first that felt hurtful, and it took me years to understand that being “Weird” is more than ok, that “Weird” is beautiful. Eventually, I made “Weird” my one-word motto, and used to wear a Why be normal? pin. I was proud of my Weirdness. Things felt better, the Bay was my playground, I loved its marshes, forests, beaches and skateparks. I was happy.

Then one day, something unexpected happened. I had to leave the Bay, without notice. Like in the movies. At dawn, hiding, in secret. I didn’t come back for more than 15 years. During that exile the Bay grew in my mind like a place of fantasy, and actual memories blended with fiction. The Lost Bay became a dream, partly familiar, partly alien, a place of wonder shrouded in a terrifying mystery.

TAKE ME TO THE LOST BAY

The Lost Bay - First Look is the travel guide to this wondrous and wicked place I’m offering to you. If you accept the invitation you’ll play beautiful and powerful characters, you’ll fight the horror in breathtaking combats, and rewrite the Lost Bay’s history.

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #indie rpg #tabletop rpg #indie tabletop rpg #horrorrpgs #horroart #suburbia #90 #horror games

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shatterinseconds · 2 years ago

Text

just one dance

a drabble for @vldkoganes who asked for pining Keith in some sort of prince AU.

“May I have this dance?” Lance asks Keith, hands placed behind his back as he smiles at him. His eyes twinkle in delight when Keith snaps his full attention to him.

Keith looks at Altea’s newly appointed ambassador to Marmora in masked surprise. There’s a reason why Altea is his favorite kingdom to negotiate with, and he would not put it past Queen Allura to have specifically appointed Lance to deal with him, except there’s no way she can know Keith’s type—a cocky flirt, a firestarter. And even more unfortunate for Keith, Lance is exactly the type of person who can go head to head with him and has a decent chance of winning.

With most ambassadors from other kingdoms, Keith can get them to cower under his scowl alone and usually walks away with a decent deal that favors Marmora. Lance is a whole other challenge. He always has Altea’s best interests at heart and refuses to budge on a deal that teeters any other way. Allura is very lucky to have him. He can throw barbs as well as he can take them. Nothing seems to phase him, and the more Keith’s ire increases, so does Lance’s infuriating grin.

The entire essence of Lance is infuriating.

Keith hates how much he can’t let it go.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Lance’s brows knit in confusion. He waves a hand behind him. “This is a ball where people dance.”

Keith absolutely hates balls. It doesn’t matter if he has to throw it himself as Crown Prince of Marmora or whether he’s invited to someone else's. Tonight is one he hosts, and for the last ten minutes he’s been trying to figure out how to escape from his own party with Shiro, his guard, giving him a disapproving look every time he tries to make a break for it.

“I meant why me?” Keith clarifies with a frown, arms crossed and guarded.

“Because you’ve been standing here like a statue all night, and I think it’s honestly scaring your guests.”

Keith has never had anyone other than Shiro speak to him in such a flippant manner. Even from the first day, Lance refused to address him formally after their initial meeting, unless he’s teasing him. It’s thrilling. A relief. Keith tilts his head. “You’re not scared.”

“I could never be scared of you.” Lance flashes him another cocky smile. “So do you want to enjoy my company or not?”

Keith rolls his eyes but takes Lance’s arm when it’s offered. People part for them as they walk onto the dance floor before filling in the spaces around them. He hears the whispers and catches the stares. Lance remains unphased and Keith does as well. It’s well known that Keith usually never partakes in these formal events, and now here he is in the middle of the ballroom with the ambassador he can’t seem to ever say no to.

“You look really handsome tonight,” Lance whispers as they fold into the dance. His arm is around Keith’s waist, warm and a comforting weight. Keith keeps his gaze locked on their clasped hands, trying to stay in time with the music, because the minute he looks at Lance’s face—with his dazzling smile and windswept hair—he’ll trip.

“Oh, thank you.” Keith’s cheeks redden at the compliment, not used to one so genuine. “S-so do you.”

“Hm,” Lance hums in agreement. He chuckles a little when Keith does step out of tune but swiftly corrects him so no one around notices.

Automatically, they draw closer to each other throughout the dance, heads bowed in their own private conversation even though they haven’t said anything else. Keith breathes him in—a mulled scent of the ocean that still clings to him from Altea under a more present flowery soap—and that is enough. When the song ends, Lance steps back from him, and suddenly, Keith feels cold.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Your Highness.” Lance smirks, bowing, and reaches out to kiss the back of Keith’s hand. He stares straight at Keith, a hint of blush on his brown skin. “Thank you for the dance.”

And just like that, Keith struggles to function for the rest of the evening.

#klance #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #klance fic #keith x lance #my writing

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thosewickedlovelies · 2 years ago

Text

wildflowers | Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: A change in the air, small as a candle flame

Tags: No warnings tbh. GN!Reader, not an age gap fic. If any soap-makers are reading this, do not tell me if I’m wrong about the QZ’s capabilities

Words: 1,511

Note: hiii babes. I don’t really know what this is, other than my brain’s desire to say something about this man. A possibility, perhaps. Written after ep 3, although there’s no plot/canon references.

Masterlist

Joel’s knees ache with every step upward to his apartment. The staircase protests beneath his weight, as if the chipped paint of the railing and the grime and graffiti on the walls weren’t warning enough about the state of this place. Not that people had much of a choice about it. This building is no more derelict than all the rest in the QZ. Unless it’s FEDRA quarters, maybe.

Joel snorts, and then has to stop as a lance of pain through his ribs takes the rest of his breath away. Fuck. Bruised from that slip he took earlier, maybe. Damn sewer maintenance.

Joel can hardly remember a time before the ever-present pain. Had there ever been a point when at least one part of his body didn’t ache, or twinge, or pinch? Had he ever lived in a world where everything wasn’t as gray as this fucking staircase, where he at least had some distraction at home from the shitty parts of the world and his aging body?

The door to his apartment opens, and the first thing Joel registers is the smell. It’s pleasant, sweet, like a sunny meadow full of wildflowers. What the fuck? Nothing smelled nice in the QZ- even all the flowering plants of spring couldn’t cover the stench of human hopelessness or the rotting world outside the walls.

“Joel! You’ll never guess what I found last night!” You rush around the corner from the living room.

Carried by your passage, another wave of scent billows over him. Amidst dropping his keys and gear, Joel pauses for a fraction of a second, his eyes closing. Memories rise up, unbidden: a fat, tri-wick Yankee candle in his childhood living room, one in a rotation of his mother’s favored scents. The heady perfume of real flowers, the ones lining the fence of an Austin side street where he first kissed-

His jaw clenches, and he lets his pack thunk loud onto a dining room chair, hoping the sound will shatter the hold of his memories.

Joel turns his head to you, raising his eyebrows. Well?

“Candles! That’s what the smell is- they were buried under some debris in an old corner shop, you know, the kind that were the first places to be looted when everything went to shit. Nobody went digging for a pack of scented candles then, but now…” Your eyes shine, proud and somehow…happy?

Joel glances past you, to where a tiny flame dances brightly on the rickety bit of wood you call a coffee table. A little scented wax, about as useful as a bottle of perfume but more wasteful (firestarters being a valuable commodity), has brought you this much joy?

“I hope you plan on sellin’ the rest of the pack, unless you found somethin’ else to make the trip worthwhile.”

He doesn’t look back as he heads to the bathroom, intent on getting out of the sacrificial clothes he wears to work in the sewers.

You scoff, trailing after him to deliver your retort. “Obviously I did, no way I’m selling the whole pack. I need something to cover up your stink.”

Scowling, Joel pokes his head out around the bathroom door, only to see your mouth already open to finish him off.

“And I’m not talking about the days you work sewage.” You smirk at him triumphantly.

A deeply resigned sigh is the only response you hear.

Joel has had two years to get used to you as a roommate, after the last building you both lived in collapsed unexpectedly (Or at least, unexpectedly to most. Joel had seen the signs, which was why he hadn’t lost as much of his stuff as everyone else. But he hadn’t been able to predict the exact moment it would fall). You’re…not the worst he could have gotten. Between your respective smuggling groups, you lived reasonably well (Joel still remembers the night that realization had come to light- it was the closest he’d come to genuine laughter in years). You’d even gone on the occasional independent run together. You don’t get in his way, but nor do you enable his worst impulses; although he’d never acknowledge it, it’s come to be something of a relief to have you around.

You’ve moved on from making fun of him, now listing other goods last night’s trip had brought in, interspersed with the occasional observation on the world outside or gossip about the people in your group.

Joel listens with half an ear, silent but not uninterested. When the last of his clothes are hung outside the window (where they’ll remain exiled until his next trip down below or until the smell fades), he turns to bathtub.

Shit.

For all their skill of stretching resources, their latest bar of soap had finally squeaked out its last gasp of bubbles yesterday. Their spare was still in its protective wrapping…somewhere decidedly not in the bathroom.

Joel sighs again.

The pile of spandex that was his underwear lies crumpled in the tub already. He’s motionless for a long moment, his ribs sore, his skin gritty.

“Hey,” he says, interrupting your musings.

“…Yeah?”

“I forgot to bring in the other soap. Would you mind…grabbin’ it for me.”

“Oh, sure.”

Silence stretches between you, as intangible and yet undeniable as the network connecting the mycelium. It’s there even as other sounds spring up- your quiet footsteps, the rustle of you rummaging through packaging.

It thickens as you return to the bathroom door.

“Here.”

Your voice is closer than before. Just on the other side of a thin wooden barrier. No other sound breaches the silence connecting them, and Joel knows that it’s up to him to make the bridge.

The click of the doorknob is loud. Maybe silence is the wrong word for the thing connecting you, because it’s still present, undiminished despite sounds like that click, the whisper of the door opening, the beating of his heart.

The air on your side of the door is warmer without any windows open, and still laced with the scent of wildflowers.

“Here you go.”

Your voice- it sounds like someone trying to sound normal, but failing in a way Joel doesn’t know how to describe. You feel it too.

Joel eases his body slightly further toward the gap, and reaches out his hand.

You try to keep your eyes on his face, or your hands. Try to keep your expression neutral, blandly amicable. But Joel sees the moment you fail. Catches your gaze flicker past the reach of his arm, to his very bare shoulders, chest, waist.

Joel hasn’t been a vain man in years. Decades. His reputation in the QZ is enough to keep most people from looking at him too long, anyway. But you….he’s seen you look at him. He’s let you look at him- in the silence of their shared apartment, on those rare, fraught ventures outside the walls.

What you’re seeing now isn’t much more than what you’ve seen before. You’ve patched him up a time or two, and he you. All the same…

The look in your eyes strokes some dusty, long-forgotten part of Joel that wants to preen.

It’s not a very overt look, to be fair. A tension in your jaw. A shadow of interest, a willingness to be interested, if it weren’t for something stopping you. Like you knew better than to entertain the notion that he would return your interest.

And Joel…feels bad about that.

What?

Yes, that’s what that is, a twinge of regret- for being so closed-off, so unavailable, that you wouldn’t even consider that he’d be willing for a roll in the sheets.

Your hands connect. Or rather, they both connect with the soap. The crude, QZ-produced chunk hovers between you, both of you holding onto it.

You swallow, your gaze finally tearing from the sliver of bare hip Joel had left visible beyond the edge of the door. Thick and strong as the rest of him, an intimate curve whose appearance sent your thoughts whirling like dandelion fluff. You force that careless smile back onto your face.

Joel’s fingers are less than an inch from yours. He stares at them, their subtle, restless stroking motions against the waxy wrapping.

“Thanks,” Joel finally says.

“Sure.”

Something has shifted in your face. A cautious curiosity emerged, as if you recognize the presence of a new feeling seeping through the fracture in his thoughts; as if you’d felt it through the not-silence still connecting you.

Tentatively, you release the soap. Your invisible connection holds, unbroken despite that Joel now grips the soap alone.

He lifts it to his nose. His face wrinkles at its strange tang, too strong for it to truly be considered ‘unscented’.

“Maybe smellin’ nice ain’t so overrated after all.”

His grimace made you laugh; a grin breaks across your face, in a shade of teasing you’ve never used on Joel before.

“Well, you know where I’ll be.”

Joel watches you waltz back toward the living room, and breathes in the scent of wildflowers.

💕💕💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fic #tlou #tlou hbo

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