#Captainbeauty

[lotornomiko]

The Broken Hearted Comfort Chapter Eight (Not safe for work)

I'll say not safe for work just in case...but it's more about Belle's thoughts and feelings....so its like heavy on the dub con angst of what almost could have happened...actually finished reworking it over two hours ago, but then I slacked off hardcore on doing any proofreading...^^''

Her heart already so battered and abused, pulsed inside her now with an ever so erratic beat, that wild tempo producing a sound that was so furious that it felt like it actually HURT. It even seem to echo within her ears, and made for a harsh throbbing in her breast, Belle digging fingers into her chest over its place, in an unconscious display meant to contain that frightened part inside her. It still left her wide eyed and shaking regardless, the woman gathering her knees close to her body in an effort to huddle in close on herself. She made herself small, as small as the pirate had reduced her to actually feeling, the beauty struggling to breathe. That deep exhale of sound, was shaky at best, a great shudder working its way through her, the urge to outright start sobbing in hysterics upon her.

Even though she swallowed back such a sound, Belle still looked the part, her blurry eyed misery unable to truly emphasize the deepest depths of the pain and the fright that she struggled with still. The trauma, its scar running deep, a lasting wound having been inflicted that would see her bleed that hurt all over, the woman outright shaking from its effect. From it, and from him, the man—the pirate who was the cause of one potent half of her suffering. That broken heart the least of her problems now, Hook had put a real fear in her, the dread and regret that the young lady had started out with, magnified to new levels of extreme, the threat of him, of that which he still wanted from her, so pressing and real a danger, Belle menaced by Hook from the very second that he had swaggered into her cell in the queen’s prison tower.

It hadn’t gotten better from there, the man taking far too many liberties, stealing kisses and more, those inappropriate touches a herald of the dark promise that had been in his eyes. That lust that was so unrelenting a beast, the pirate taking every opportunity to let Belle know just how much he has wanted her. That body of hers that with which he wanted to make his plunder, the princess objectified by the expectations of his misguided desire. He had made her into this wild fantasy, some twisted dream like figure that had weighed her down with that need of his pressuring her to perform.

She hadn’t, she COULDN’T, Belle unable and unwilling to let herself be remade into this man’s lustful idea of a fantasy. Her desire dead, she was as far removed from the embodiment of sin and seduction as one could be, that teary eyed misery blurring her vision, the woman pale faced and sniffling, her beautiful blue eyes rimmed red from her crying. Even at her most pain stricken, Belle remained wary, watching the pirate while weeping. She also couldn’t stop glaring, conscious of his everything, from each breath that he took, to the visible emotion that played out on his face. He was frustrated, but also one part ravenous, his storm dark gaze still holding that desire, that hunger for her. He couldn’t stop staring at her in turn, and there was a fine tremor that worked its way through his otherwise still body, an indecision playing out in the thoughts in his head. He was all predator, like a great big jungle cat, a panther, ready to pounce at the slightest of provocation or weakness. She tried not to give him either one of those things, but there was no stopping her tears.

Exhausted by them, by him, and by this situation, she had been riding on her fright and that of her anger for too long. For the more than a day’s travel by horseback, Belle had been left on edge during the entire escape, set there on that precipice by the pirate, when he had burst into the room that had served as as her cage. What could have been a savior, had revealed itself with the true colors of a villain, Belle’s shock at his arrival, at seeing him again, lost to the anger that had ignited when the pirate had accosted her the very first chance that he had gotten. Tumbled down onto the cot of her prison, her outrage hadn’t yet given into a full blooming of fear. But when it had hit, it had hit hard, the fright something that began like a snowball hurling down a mountain, picking up size the longer that it went, until it had literally snowballed out of control.

Now they both reaped the rewards of a fear that had had time to build out of their ability to control, Hook stymied by Belle’s tears. By her inability to stop her crying, the miserable state that she had been reduced to, maybe the only thing capable of getting him to consider stopping at all. She was aware of it too, the effect her terrified state was having, every tear delaying what had become inevitable, that victory a bitter one though, born of the moment when the last remaining bit of her hope had been snuffed out. She couldn’t even muster a true anger in this instance, Belle a self loathing creature that was hating the fact that she been reduced to crying. To becoming this blubbering mess that had her feeling so weak knee and helpless. Made absolutely miserable by this, she was also embarrassed, having been brought low to such a humiliation, all powerless save for that of her tears and the effect that they had thus far had.

She wasn’t normally one to give another the satisfaction of her tears, especially a man like the pirate. But with her hope and her spirit broken, with nothing left to truly lose, Belle herself had shattered, breaking apart in his embrace. Pieces of her now scattered, the young woman had yet to attempt to gather them back, instead lost to the moment, and others like it, the beauty knowing that she would never forget, never be able to even try, every second spent with Hook, leaving its very brand upon her. Bodily and on her soul, and most searing was her mind, the memory of how he had frozen in shock with the realization of her tears. That confused look in his eyes, the grimace twisting his lips, the man both concerned and bothered by her response, all this and more were details that replayed in her head, Belle not just remembering it, but repeatedly reliving it. FEELING it, that clean masculine scent of him thick in the air, the sensual touch of his firm lips, and an even harsher rasp of his beard hairs upon her skin. The hand made calloused from years of handling weapons, caressing her body, lower and lower, until it had finally lodged itself between her thighs. Nothing had been able to prepare her for that, to protect her, least of all the thin fabric of her panties, his scalding heat communicated to her, it and that touch such an intrusive and unwanted thing. The fingers moving over her had made her go cold, a bone deep shiver felt a second before her entire body had gone tense. She had been freezing up, unable to relax, unable to give in, Belle beyond all hope in that moment, defeated and frightened, and trying her hardest not to cry.

Even that choice was taken from her, Belle bursting into tears. She’d never understand it, never understand HIM, the woman confused by that inexplicable reaction, the pirate having stopped at the sight of her distressed state. She didn’t know why, and Belle didn’t dare think it meant that Hook saw her as anything other than an outlet for his desires, and that of his own lofty and merciless ambitions. She was a pawn and his plaything, her body just one part of what Hook had been after from the start of this nightmare. Acting entitled to it, to HER, Hook not only making it clear what he had been after of her, but acting as if it was his God given right to get it.

He had even been so far gone as to think she’d be grateful, as though expecting her to have gladly thrown herself into his arms. As though she would happily prostitute herself for a rescue that she hadn’t even ask for, a rescue that was selfishly motivated by his own greed and nature. She was still telling herself that this was all part of a grander scheme, the pirate intent on bankrupting her kingdom. It was too inconceivable to imagine otherwise, too unsettling, too CRAZY a thing to risk his life and his crew on just for the slim chance of simply fucking her again.

So she clung to her own delusions, angry though they made her, Belle in denial as to the depth of Hook’s obsession, and the lengths it had already driven him to. She refused it, and she refused him, the beauty having no desire in her to even pretend to be grateful. She couldn’t ,not even to spare herself a world of hurt at his hand, for with that rejection and distaste made abundantly clear, the pirate had then tried to take what he had wanted from her by force.

That had to have been, without question, one of the scariest moments ever in that of her young life. And that was saying something, considering hers, had been a life that had seen its fair share of terrors, everything from the towering ogres that had had plagued and terrorized her kingdom, to the Dark One’s frightening tantrums and that furious rage, to even that of Regina, the Evil Queen a mad menace who would have ultimately KILLED the princess, once her lack of value made itself truly known. Yet for all that, the loss of control that Hook had made her feel, her choices that he had taken from her, and that of the feelings he had so cruelly discarded, had proven a million times worse than anything---anyone that had come before him.

Worse than the Queen at her most murderous, the ogres at their most brutal, and that of Rumplestiltskin’s own brand of devastating cruelty, Hook was at first seemingly far too predictable a man until he was not, Belle wondering if he wasn’t a tad touched in the head. Maybe more than just a little, the man surely insane! That or a fool, pitting himself to be an enemy of the Evil Queen, for a pay off that wouldn’t amount to all that much. Did he not know that her kingdom was a poor one, ruined and ransacked as it had been by those monsters? Or that they had little in the way of resources, and even less in gold, Avonlea simply too poor to pay the kind of ransom amount that would be worth all the trouble that they had been plunged into? There was no real profit to be made, off of Belle or off of her kingdom, Hook and his crew woefully misguided on the value that they had placed on her. For even if her father were willing to try and pay such a ransom, it would bankrupt the entire kingdom, and it would still not be enough. Avonlea then left beyond ruined, Belle and her father, the King, hated.

She couldn’t bear it. Not their hate, and not their pity, Belle no more willing to be the tool with which led to Avonlea’s downfall at Hook’s hands, than she had been at Rumplestitlskin’s. She was desperate to avoid it, to see her people saved, yet Belle had nothing in which to bargain for. Nothing with which to make another deal, that and the inability to make this pirate understand that there was no value in her, this ransom plan nowhere near worth the trouble it had already caused him and his crew. Belle was in fact an existence who had deemed herself without value, so useless a person that she already knew that just like the Evil Queen would have one day soon realized her folly, the pirates would too. They wouldn’t be able to get rid of Belle fast enough, Hook giving her the boot just like the Dark One had.

The tears that were ever present in her eyes, began to burn hotter, Rumplestiltskin’s face twisted in that awful moment of his rage, called to mind. He had been so close to throttling her with his bare hands, and had even gone so far as to bodily throw her past his castle’s front gate. He had been beyond furious, so livid and so creatively cruel, each word spoken meant to crush the woman, and bring her love to break apart . To do more than just break but to wither and die a painful and slow death, Belle cursed to know that it had been all a one sided love. That of a foolish infatuation, the young woman utterly gutted to the core to know that it had all been in her head, no real love or feeling in him There had been nothing, nothing between them for there to be anything past that of a beauty and a beast, that master and slave relationship, Belle part of a deal, a payment that had outlived its usefulness to him. Thoroughly crushed by his heavy handed spite, his words and those realizations had left only heart break behind. That part of her had split in half with a bitterness that Belle might never get over.

All of her feelings of worthlessness, had been born of that rejection. From that malevolent outrage, her innocent love spat upon. She would never be able to understand why he would value his power more than her, but the damage had been done regardless, the power of her love, her feelings severed so entirely, that there was no way that her kiss would hold true love effect on him. On him or on anyone else, Belle’s life having spiraled so entirely into chaos, prison after prison changing again and again, Rumplestiltskin, the Evil Queen, and now the pirate, each one tormenting her in their own way. Each a brand of trouble that seemed worst than the last, Belle tortured and feeling like it would never, ever truly end without her ending up dead. Caught in one power struggle after another, and torturing herself over her own perceived lack of worth, Belle wasn’t in any way thinking clearly. She hadn’t been for a long time now, and maintaining that heightened state of panic at the pirate’s hand hadn’t helped. It had led to a bone weary exhaustion, Belle not just tired physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. If not for her present fear, that of the pirate’s continued menace and what she expected him to still do, Belle would have literally dropped, collapsing into a dead faint after all she had been through.

Her soul itself tired, her emotions running the wild gamut of the spectrum, Belle didn’t even have it left in her to start screaming. At best she could only just manage a gasp, the pirate having drawn near once more. She’d flinch, her body outright recoiling from the look in his eyes, the blue of them made even stormier with his displeasure. Yet for all that tumultuous feeling that was in his expression, his hand was gentle as Hook went and cupped her cheek. His fingers felt along the wet skin there, his thumb tracing the rough path of her tears. That smoldering heat in him had simmered to a cooler degree, his expression turning inwardly harsh and unforgiving.

"Bloody hell." He then spat out loud, and abruptly the pirate was gone. The bed groaned in relief as the pirate's weight left it, Belle in a state of complete shock even after Hook had stormed out of the room. For the longest stretch of time, that stunned state of disbelief would steal even her ability to think, Belle unable to process what had just happened. She might have even fainted for a time, Belle numb to even that level of self awareness.

She wouldn't even know how much time had actually passed, before Belle abruptly launched herself off of the pirate's bed. Her actions automatic, Belle scrubbing at her face, and pulling at that too short tunic that had passed for the Evil Queens idea of prison garb. It kept riding up on her thighs, despite her fingers best attempt to control it, flashing far too much of her bottom with every little bit of movement. That would not do, Belle snatching a sheet off the bed, wrapping it thoroughly around her body, so that she was covered from neck to toe.

It wasn't much, but the sheet did go a long way towards making Belle feel marginally better. She felt shielded, as ridiculous a thought as that actually was, because Belle also knew the sheet wouldn't make one bit of difference in protecting her from the pirate's lust. But she liked the lie of it, the sense of control that it gave her, the sheet so warm and different from the skimpy clothing the Evil Queen had forced on Belle these past few weeks.

She shivered then, the prickling unease having nothing to do with the room’s temperature and everything to do with what had happened to her. The heart break and the tortures, the imprisonments, and the loss of any real choice. Anything and everything, and Belle didn't even know how much time she had lost! It felt like it had been an entire year that she had spent inside that tower, with no windows or way to know just how much time had truly passed. It had been an agony all its own, that small eternity of not knowing, and it wasn't just time that she had lost, but the simpler luxuries of freedom. Fresh air to breathe, the sun’s warnth to feel, and the beauty of the sky to see, and even that of the voices to hear. Belle closed her eyes for several seconds, breathing, living, just taking in the whole experience.

She’d inhale deep of the fresh air, its scent so wonderful and flavored with the salt of the sea. That same sea made the weather here cold, a chill permeating even inside the cabin. Belle shivered and delighted in even this, because it had always been a hot, stifling air that had cycled through her tower prison. A stale air, so recycled and suffocating, Belle opening her eyes and gravitating towards the cabin's round window and the source of her pleasure. She made no move to open it, just staring with a sense of awe and wonder at the sight before her, that of the sea that stretched on for miles ahead of her and that of the sun that was working even now to gentle the worst of the weather’s coldest wind, its bright brilliance lighting up a canvas that was made of both the open sky and the waters below it.

It was also more colors than Belle had been privileged to see in a long, long time, her tower prison having been a room of drab grays. The sky that she saw now was all manner of blue, with even faint lavender and that of the purest of white Belle had ever seen in a cloud. The sea below it wasn't a true blue, instead a sea green mix that sparkled with foam made white from the sun. Those waters rose in small waves that crested against the wooden hull of the ship, that sound a gentle, persistent slap that was a magic melody all its own. A gull's voice cawed from up high, Belle unable to see the sea bird from the window's vantage. She also couldn't see those responsible for the many other sounds that she was hearing, the people who shouted and laughed in a good natured manner, barking out orders, and working the ship to move.

It was a more joyful sound than she had been exposed to in God only knows how long, and it was wonderful. For the moment it didn't matter that these people were pirates, that they would hurt rather than help her. Belle reveled in the sound of their chatter, pretending she was elsewhere, somewhere safe and with friends.

She couldn't maintain the illusion forever, Belle turning away from the window with a put upon sigh. It still came out shaky, even though the worst of her tears had long since dried. Her fears still remained, Belle giving a positively venomous glare to the bed. And a just as uncharitable a thought to the man who that bed belonged to. But she didn't really want to think about Hook, not when remembering set her off trembling, the memory of the heat of his kisses and what he had tried to do, a sour note in her head that left her heart hurting badly.

Worse yet was those awful assumptions, that damn gratitude that Hook had expected of her. Belle felt a mix of anger and disbelief, scoffing at the thought that she would ever willingly do THAT with him again. Even if he hadn't hurt her that first time, even if he hadn't been so cruel and single minded in his own lust’s pursuit of its satisfaction. Even if he had made the sex as wonderful as the kissing had been, Belle wouldn't have laid with him a second time. Not when she told herself that he had only rescued her for his own sinister ambitions, intending to ransom her off and bankrupt her kingdom in the process. That was an insult she could not--would not take lightly, Belle as always ready and willing to protect her people from whatever threat that they might face. Be they the ogres or that of these pirates!

Cultivating a self righteous anger on her people’s behalf, Belle used the pain of it to fuel something other than her self pity and tears. It brought her no step closer to knowing how to stop Hook, but it also kept her from giving over to the hysterics. For this furious temper was effective when it came to what passed for her coping mechanism, the helplessness that Belle felt, a rage that had been steadily built on and perfected while in the Evil Queen’s merciless care. If it had a physical form and force to it, such an anger would have toppled even mountains.

With that anger moving her, it and her resentments and the many disappointments, Belle began to truly explore the inside of the cabin. It was a lot larger than the cell she had spent so much time in, this new cage that of an overly spacious room that befitted the captain of a ship as big and magnificent as the Jolly Roger had looked to be. It was also extravagant in design, Hook a man of expensive tastes when it came to his furniture and possessions. Fine mahogany wood, brand new leather bound books, rugs woven of the softest materials. Gold and silver coins spilled out in a careless fashion across a wide desk. Quills made of the feathers of the most exotic of birds, and the fresh ink to dip them in. Brightly colored jewels, rubies the size of her fist, diamonds bigger than she had known was possible. And all of it spoke of how ruthless a thief the pirate could be.

Convinced he didn't give a damn about anything but his own wealth and adding to it, Belle felt the fire of her anger build at the thought of Hook bankrupting her kingdom to keep on funding his expensive tastes and lifestyle. She was almost too angry to focus, Belle walking around, rifling through some of his things with the intent to find yet another weapon of some kind. It would still be absolutely useless in her hands, Belle unable to bring herself to actually kill anyone, but the illusion of protection it would give her would go a long way towards comforting the young woman greatly.

She then found herself kneeling before one of several other chests, Belle discovering that the lid opened up easily enough. There was only more gold and jewels inside it, so she moved on to the next one. It looked familiar for some reason, Belle prying the wood open, and reaching to pull aside the fabric that lay there in neatly folded piles. The woman didn't at first understand what it was that she was seeing, Belle ignoring the clothing, to dig deeper into the chest. The beauty stopped up short when she came across a familiar book, Belle certain that it was just a coincidence that the pirate had a copy of her favorite bedtime story. That certainty began to slip, when she noticed the book was as a worn as that of her own, its cover sewn back into place by a familiar and thick black thread. Its worn state didn't fit in with the new and well cared for books that she had seen among the rest of Hook’s things, Belle opening the book, and caressing shaking fingertips over the inscription inside.

It was addressed to Belle, with the loving words written by a mother long since dead and buried. That had her leaping galvanized into action, Belle actually looking at the clothing that she had set aside. Her hands shook harder with the realization that they were hers, all the pretty dresses and petticoats that she had forced herself to buy after Rumplestiltskin had tossed her out of his life. She didn't understand why the dresses were here, even the torn blue one, and Belle could admit that she wasn't sure she wanted to actually know. She began pawing frantically through the chest and the ones next to it. Finding more of her books and belongings, from her hairbrush and ribbons, to the perfumes and oils that she had favored. Everything was there, not a thing missing from the inn, the pirate having taken exacting care to collect each and every one of her belongings.

It was yet another inkling that gave Belle the hint that maybe something more was going on. That maybe the pirate had intended more than just to bankrupt her kingdom. But her mind wouldn't let her settle on what that other intention could be, Belle refusing to so much as consider that Hook had gone through so much trouble and risk just to have her again. It was simply a level of creepy she didn't want to dwell on, Belle disturbed enough by Hook and his lusts when it seemed just a matter of chance proximity.

She began repacking the chests, though she kept one of the dresses out. With the sheet still wrapped around her, Belle went to the door. To her surprise it wasn't locked, but then the bitter understanding filled her. Hook hadn't left the door unlocked because he trusted her, but because there was simply nowhere for her to go. She was on a ship full of blood thirsty, sex hungry pirates, and that alone would keep her in place, effectively trapped for the time being.

With a scowl that couldn't hide the hopeless and frustrated look in her eyes, Belle retreated to the cabin's private bathroom. This door was one that she made sure to lock, then quickly dropped the sheet. With a speed that impressed even her, Belle quickly got into and laced up the ribbons of a white and pale lavender dress. The skirts had a spring to them, the petticoat's ruffles filling them out nicely. It had a modest cut for a bodice, but even that little flesh on display seemed like too much. Belle quickly pulled the bed sheet back around her, covering up fully before she would leave the bathroom. She left the tunic from the tower on the floor, Belle never wanting to see that dark blue garment again. It wasn't the only thing that she never wanted to see again, Belle remembering the sinister blue of the pirate's eyes. She shivered and clutched harder at the sheet, remembering the heat, the raw desire, the hungry, predatory look that had focused unwavering on her. It was a look that she never wanted to be subjected to again, and yet it was a look that Belle knew she would have to endure time and time again, the pirate too fixated on lusting after her. With that focused intensity that desired to do more than just look, Belle not knowing if her tears would work a second time to damper the worst of his ardor. It was a bridge she knew that she would have to cross and soon, Belle fearing Hook and what he would do to her in the time that it took them to finally reach her kingdom. For now though, there was nothing she could truly do but take a seat by the window and wait. And hope that her unsettled, hurting heart didn't burst from the fright.

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To Be Continued....

8/31/2021 Updated, seems a lot of the first half of these chapters tend to be what gets written. So big chunks there, with some minor tweaking in the latter half.

----Michelle

[swanscapitan]

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Captain beauty everyone . 😍 AKA my favorite brotp on this show It's a little off I made this in like 4 hours....😐 #captainswan #outlawqueen #onceuponatime #swanqueen #captainswan #captaincharming #captainbeauty

[8the-night-sky8]

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[belleofthebookclubarchive-blog]

David or Killian?

“Killy, that’s hardly fair. You’re both away so often it’s a wonder I get to kiss either of you. But seeing as you’re here...”

[c-odonoghuecom]

Come on guys, you know you want to send a message to Colin O'Donoghue!

Send your message on here in my ask box, on Twitter, Facebook or via mail and I will make SURE Colin gets it. 

I know you all want to. Even if you are going to FT3 and even if you live a million kilometers away, join in. 

Please share, the more the merrier. 

[lotornomiko]

The Broken Hearted Comfort One (Not safe for work)

Decided to do some improving on the existing chapters...some tweaking in an attempt to make them flow and read better. I don't believe I ever posted the first versions here either....if I can get the cuts to work, I will be posting them all to my tumblr as I go over them...(Couldn't get the post editor to do a cut for 16 no matter what I tried yesterday...)

Hook Belle coupling, once Upon A Time fanfic...

It begins with a look, just that of two pairs of eyes chancing a meeting from across the bar. Neither one of them means to do it, but it happens all the same. Grieving blue meets a gaze equally full of such similar a sorrow, sparking a reaction in the two.

The woman is the first to look away, to glance down at the mug she's nursing. Hook stares at her a moment longer, then turns away with the startled realization that he KNOWS her. He might not know her name, or where she is from, but he knows where she spends her nights. Or at least part of them, Hook acknowledging that she's always been at the tavern long before he has arrived, and is probably still there long after he leaves. And always, she just sits at the bar, nursing that one drink, with the same despondent look in her eyes.

It's a look he knows well, Hook having seen it gaze back in full in his own mirror’s glass. It's one that has been reflected there since the day that his Milah had died, his love a woman who had been savagely murdered by her own coward of a husband. On that day, with her brutal passing, a part of Hook had died as well, his heart all but torn from his chest the way that Milah's had been.

His sole remaining hand tightens on his own mug, Hook staring off at nothing with those memories sparking vivid in his head. He doesn't realize that his grief shows all the more, or the fact that the woman is looking at him once again. Staring at him with an open mouthed recognition, a kind of sorrow eyed sympathy shown his way. She can't possibly know what he's been through, but she does acknowledge it as a twin to her own grief.

The woman quickly looks away, when she realizes he has noticed. Hook can't help but stare at her, wondering what--WHO had put such a similar look of pain in her eyes. His own sympathetic gaze is cast on her, knowing her for what she is. A woman whose heart has been thoroughly broken, just as Hook's has been.

It didn't matter the circumstances of her situation. He wasn't looking to make a friend. Wasn't looking for anything except a minute or two of relief, the kind of peace drinks alone could not grant him. And yet he kept turning back to her, studying her, noticing things beyond the sad blue of her eyes.

Like her hair, which was a rich chestnut brown color, full of long curls that were draped and gathered over the front of one shoulder. She wore a pretty blue dress, with plenty of white frills and gold lace. She had a shapely figure, and a beyond lovely face. She was beautiful, even in her torment, Hook wondering why anyone would ever want to hurt her and tear the smile off of her face.

But he wasn't going to ask, wasn't going to even think of the potential reasons for her hurt. Because if he did, he'd want to kill someone, want to hunt down the monster who had made this beautiful woman hurt so badly. And that was something he couldn't devote time or energy to, Hook having a mission, a single minded purpose, existing all on the desire to avenge his murdered and broken heart, that of his Milah.

He thinks of her raven black hair then, of ivory pale skin, and those piercing eyes that had seemed to always see past his swagger, to the man Hook was---had once been inside. Milah had always able to make him feel things, exciting and new, revealing unexpected facets of Hook, she still affected him now. But it was all dark in his head now, his eyes a blue dulled with his own monumental pain and sadness.

Coins abruptly clattered on the bar's countertop, Hook leaving his drink unfinished. He wouldn't even look again at the woman in blue, stalking towards a side exit of the tavern. It had started raining outside, a cold spray heavy enough to send the townspeople all fleeing indoors. Hook lingered undecided for one moment more, then stepped out into the rain. Someone follows behind him, and Hook wonders just who can be that foolish. Especially when they then follow him into an alley, Hook turning, grabbing at an arm, then hearing a woman gasp. Hook might have gasped too, staring shocked for one moment, at the woman from the bar. Then reason comes back to him, Hook gripping her arm tighter, forcing a pained sound out of her.

"Why did you follow me?!" He demands, his harsh sounding voice making her flinch for one moment longer, before she gathers up her courage.

"I wanted to ask....wanted to know if it will get better."

He doesn't have to ask her what she means by that, not when they match each other so perfectly in the pain that they feel. Nor can he give her an answer, any hope, Hook just shrugging back.

The woman seems to deflate before him, as though what little hope she had been clinging to, has now extinguished completely. And still she is beautiful, even as the rain soaks her tired form down, and plasters her hair and her clothing against her.

She doesn't seem at all fearful that she is alone in an alley with a stranger. Has she gone stupid from the pain, or does she simply not care what could happen to her? But he well knows the answer already, Hook too having long having abandoned caring if he lived or he died, simply existing instead.

"This is no way to live." Hook mutters out loud, and the woman nods. But what choice do they have, when caught in the grip of their own private heart breaks.

"I just want it to stop." The woman confesses. Is she starting to cry? But with the storm on her cheeks, he can't tell tears from actual rain drops. "I just want the pain to go away, to feel something other than this heart break."

It is then that Hook realizes he is still gripping her arm, and that she's not even attempting to get away. In fact she moves towards him when he pulls, her head tilting back just enough to keep on looking him in the face.

He's not the one she should be looking to for comfort. He can't even fix his own heart, let alone that of any other. Not with the pain still so fresh, so new. With th wound that Milah's death has dealt him, keeping on festering inside him, hollowing out his heart so that he can feel nothing of love and hope and happiness.

The grief that is so relentless inside of him, goes blessedly quiet the instant his mouth covers hers. It's not a true peace that he has attained, the kiss unable to keep his sorrow away for forever. But it will do the job for at least a few minutes, Hook realizing he wants to lose himself in this woman. And from the eager way that she is attempting to kiss him back, he realizes that she feels the same way.

The kiss isn't anything like the ones he had shared with MIlah. This woman is more an inexperienced girl, than that of a practiced seductress. She doesn't at all know what she is doing, but what she lacks in expertise, she makes up for in enthusiasm. Kissing with the same raw need, and desperation that Hook feels, both wanting to know something other than the pain. Hook can only marvel at what a fool the person who had broken her heart must have been, this woman eager for kisses, for just even a little affection. It's downright criminal for one to have ignored her, to have refused lips as sweet as hers. It makes him want to teach her, to show her what it felt like to kiss and be kissed back.

She makes a soft, startled sound, but doesn't outright hesitate when his tongue twines with hers. He makes his own groan of sound, deeply gratified when she laves her tongue back, the woman learning the play of it, and seeming to enjoy it.

Hook enjoys it too, his hand letting go of her arm, to catch instead at her hair. Gripping it and her steady, then losing his own focus when her hands touch on his sides. It's over his coat, and probably means nothing more than an attempt to keep her balance, and yet the mere idea of this woman touching him any where, makes him wild. Completely frenzied, Hook walking her back, to pin her against the alleyway's thick brick wall.

Kissing her harder, then pulling back, his forehead then lightly resting against hers. Water pours off the both of them, the two staring into each other's eyes. Both of them are panting, their heavy breaths echoing oddly amid the rain. Hook stares and sees not just confusion, but a lost, helpless look, the same one that he is surely wearing. They both want peace, they both might want someone to share the pain, but most of all they both want this moment, the woman issuing out a breathy plea.

"Don't stop."

He couldn't, not even if she had begged him to do otherwise. He needed her, needed the comfort she could provide. Hook didn't care that this was insane, that this didn't solve anything, for him or for her. He just wanted, and as a pirate, he was used to taking that which he desired.

It wouldn't be anything like she deserved. He couldn't, wouldn't show her the care a woman such as this needed, couldn't allow himself to make this moment into something more than it was. He was not some hero in a story, and she was not his happily ever after. Hook didn't even believe there was a chance for him, no longer daring to wish for more, to want for anything more than revenge and a quick death after.

This time when he kissed her, it was almost angry but Hook didn't know who that feeling was for. Himself or for her, or for the things that could not be, the future they could not give each other.

His tongue harsh, his lips bruising, Hook kissed her as though he would devour the woman whole. She tried to match his pace, to match the near violent intensity he displayed, mewling sounds escaping out her throat. Her hands clutched at his coat, the woman feeling so small while she trembled against him, but ever so soft and so pliant.

Knowing she had to be freezing from the rain, he STILL sliced through the laces of her dress' corseted back with the hook that had taken the place of his severed hand. The dress didn't immediately fall down to her hips, too rain soaked to do anything but cling to curves he was sure were perfect. Hook nearly groaned with impatience, wanting her bared to the waist, but not wanting to take the time to tug and pull down that skin tight bodice.

It proved more than worth the effort, Hook rewarded with a sight that was glorious. Round, full breasts, with small but rosy looking nipples, the rain water leaving slick trails all along her freezing skin. He hadn't even needed to touch her, the chill making those nipples stand out. Greedy, he tasted one, his open mouth enveloping it fully. The woman seemed to jerk back in surprise, a hitch to her breath a moment before she arched her back and pressed her breast more firmly against his lips. And then she was moaning, Hook's mouth teasing, making the woman shiver and shake against him.

Her hands went to his hair, holding, encouraging him. His hand went under her dress, kneading the inside of her thigh for just a moment. And then he was pressing his knee against her, forcing her legs to part and straddle around him. She mewled, and tugged on his hair, forcing him up from her breasts so that they could share a kiss once more.

Tongues seeming to duel against one another, Hook's hand dropped to the front of his pants, fingers more clumsy than they should ever be. Somehow, without the aid of his hook, he got the leather open, his cock springing free and erect, and touching against her. She shifted to see, and that was when he tore off the voluminous amount of fabric that served as her under garments, Hook hauling the woman onto him.

She cried out, her nails digging into him in retaliation for the hurt he had just done her. There was the pained glimmer of tears in her eyes, the woman looking almost betrayed. Hook wondered if that was the same look she had given the man who had broken her heart, but quickly shrugged free of all thought, not wanting to give in to anything like guilt for having hurt her.

Keeping her pinned against the wall, Hook began to move. Not caring about her, about anything but the moment, and the fact that it was now silent in his head. Revenge, Rumplestiltskin, even Milah was forgotten, Hook completely in the moment, his lean but powerful hips working. Forcing his way into the deepest part of the young woman pinned before him, feeling every inch of her passage work to expand and give way, and still remaining ever so gloriously tight.

He cried out, not recognizing his own voice. Not aware of anything except the all consuming lust that had pitched through him, Hook feeling frenzied and feverish. Needing to come, and not wanting the moment to end, his hips bucking wildly, with little art or expertise, Hook bit down on the crook of the woman's shoulder. She cried out too, but he couldn't make out the words, his tongue laving over the bite mark he had left her. His good hand lay flat against the wall besides her, Hook ruthlessly driving himself into her, relying on the bricks to hold against their combined weight.

Her nails were drawing blood, the woman's breasts bouncing with each thrust of his. He could feel a wetness that didn't have anything to do with the rain or her maiden's blood, the woman's body at last fully accepting him, though its attempt at preparations had been woefully delayed. Hook knew he should have helped her, should have eased her into her first sexual experience better. For that matter he shouldn't have taken her in some side alley, should have given her the bed and comforts a virgin would have required. A dozen more should of came to mind, and were quickly dismissed, Hook knowing it too late to change anything, even the fact that he was about to come, and she was not.

His cock actually jerked inside her, his climax erupting harder than he could ever previously remember. He actually thought he saw stars, so dazed was he by the orgasm, just continuing to standi there while going flaccid inside her. Both of them were breathing heavy, Hook resting his head on her shoulder. And as his breath began to even out, the memories began to come back. First trickling in, then becoming a full out flood, Hook remembering it all, Milah, Rumplestiltskin, the horrific murder of his loved one, the need for revenge. And besides it, was the memory of the woman he had just had sex with, Hook not daring to look at her face, not wanting her betrayed expression to add to his future torments.

Not looking at her, he pulled out, and then set her down none too gently on her feet. He'd go to take a step away from her, and she'd sway, Hook spinning to catch her in his arms. It was an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability, Hook feeling bad for what he had done, for how he had treated her. He'd feel worse after she recovered, her delicate hand then slapping hard across his face.

"Beast!" The woman proclaimed, hurriedly pulling up her dress a moment before she took shaky flight off into the night. Hook didn't try to stop her, fought even the desire to turn and watch her run away. His cheek belzard with hurt, the woman having struck him hard enough to leave a mark of her own. He deserved worst, his shaking hand touching first his cheek, and then his lips where the taste of her still lingered.

The encounter had been a mistake, he was sure of it. One he wouldn't be repeating. With her, with any woman, Hook deciding this was the last time he'd be unfaithful to Milah's memory. It didn't matter that it seemed an unreasonable promise, Hook hating himself in the moment. Swearing off sex, off drinking, and off beautiful strangers who wore pretty dresses. Especially ones whose eyes were as hurt as his.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued.....

8/24/2021 Updated and Tweaked a fair bit to try and make it flow better without outright overhauling and rewriting the entire story from scratch. Will try to tweak the other chapters as well!

Michelle

[belleaddict88]

Captain Beauty fanfic "Lost Girl in Neverland"

for those of you who ship Captain Beauty just as much as I do:

I'm working on my first fanfic at the moment and it's obviously about Captain Beuty in Neverland ! ;)

check it out, hope you'll like it so far! ^^

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9899473/1/Lost-Girl-in-Neverland

[belleofthebookclubarchive-blog]

Killian or James?

“Now that’s a tough one. Rum or whiskey? Which do I prefer... hm. Can’t I have a cocktail of the two? No? ... alright alright I choose... Rum. Spice it up a little.”

[arandano-den]

AND HELLO NEW FOLLOWERS I DO HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY :3

[hyourinmaruice]

ANSWER THIS WITH TEN RANDOM FACTS ABOUT YOURSELF AND THEN PASS IT ON TO YOUR TEN FAVORITE FOLLOWERS (ﾉ⊙ヮ⊙)ﾉ

ERMEGERD - 

1.) I rocked Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning. I rocked it hardcore. 2.) I have floofy hair when it's the right length (too long and it's just a pain) 3.) I love stoneware. 4.) I love cooking 5.) Love baking too 6.) Heck I love kitchens. 7.) I love really nice knives that stay sharp.... 8.) I am not a cereal killer. 9.) Unless it's that sugar crap 10.) I do not like cheese on anything but pizza

[lotornomiko]

The Broken Hearted Comfort Chapter Seven (Not safe for work)

Strong dubious consent warning in this one!!

There had been a moment where a kind of thrilling rush had spiked through her, a keen exhilaration that was expressed deep within her heart the very second when she had dared make her threat be known, Belle pressing the very dagger she had stolen from off of the pirate earlier, against his belly now. With its oh so sharp and deadly point digging into that firm flesh, there had been that split second moment of feeling, where her anger and outrage had overcome all else of what she had been feeling. The fear and its many uncertainties, Belle feeling empowered if not brave, trembling with a determination and the idea that had been inside, Belle thinking she would do whatever she had to, even threathen to kill if need be, if it meant coming away safe from the pirate’s molestion.

That strong feeling and determination would die in the wake of a reaction most unexpected, that split second a lingering extension of time where she had glared her angriest into Captain Hook’s utterly shocked expression. A blink and you missed it moment, in which Belle had thought herself victorious and completely untouchable now, the change that abruptly came over the pirate, then made her cheeks flush with an angry and embarrassed warmth, the color blazing on her skin as the man began to openly laugh at her.

He actually shook with that unrestrained attempt at laughter, Belle’s own anger and mortification spiking, as she realized that this man did not take at all seriously the threat that she had tried to pose to him. She’d actually turn indignant, an angry huff of air escaping her, but try as Belle might, she couldn’t stop shaking, the trembling such that the dagger she held against him was so dangerously unsteady. She was so close to stabbing him through on accident alone, and didn’t even seem to realize it. Not until his hand clamped firm fingers around her wrist, Belle practically jumping in place from her fright. He had moved SO fast, faster than she thought even possible, and all it would take is a stronger squeeze from him to cause her real discomfort or even a hurt strong enough to get her to let go of the dagger.

Not knowing that Hook had grabbed her in part to steady that trembling use of the weapon, the pirate’s storm dark gaze was positively alive and dancing with his amusement. "Oh, sweet..." Hook then breathed out, his voice practically a husky purr. "You've got to be more serious then that."

She looked confused in response, Hook’s smile becoming a non too pleasant thing at that, his eyes darkening, voice still so husky and ill matched with the seriousness of the words that he was saying. "You've got to be swift, and you've got to be certain, when intending to kill a man."

"I..." Belle took a shaky gulp, the words dying on her tongue before she could attempt any more.

"There's no room for doubt." That husky toned pirate continued. "You have to be sure of what you want. No hesitating when the strike is right there. Otherwise you'll be overpowered, disarmed, and WORSE."

From the troubled look that darkened on Belle's pretty face, Hook thought that he could easily guess what it was that she considered as the worse. She was in part misguided, the pirate instinctively understanding that she had no real idea of just how bad things could become, of how much more grave and dire it would have been if the young woman had tried to bluff her way out with a dagger drawn on anyone other than the captain that so desired her. His crew would have had a field day, especially that of the men, more than a few having openly admired her, before their leader had turned so feral with his own possessive rage.

Without someone to protect her, without Hook, Belle would have left herself be open to even worse molesting than anything she might have imagined him having in mind. And if by chance, she somehow nerved herself to do the unthinkable, to actually take his life, or even just injure him badly, he doubted anyone would stop the crew from rioting and unleashing their brand of justice on her as punishment. She needed to be warned, to know first hand that this was not an option, that escape of any kind was not hers for the taking.

His amusement hadn’t sobered one bit, but it was a kind of twisted enjoyment he took in the idea of crushing this aspect of her fight for her. Belle still hadn’t released that hold of hers on the dagger, and yet Hook could feel how badly she was shaking through the steel grip that he maintained on her wrist. She tried to play it off, to act as if her violent trembling wasn’t quite so bad, but for all her anger and spirit, she was more troubled than anything by his laughter at her expense.

With a steely tone of voice, that was every bit regal and used to commands being heeded, Belle all but snarled her outrage at him. “Let go of my hand.” She said. “And we will see how little I hesitate this time!”

"Ah sweet, I see your time as the Queen's prisoner did little to douse out your own inner fire." Hook all but grinned at Belle. "But before you be gutting me....answer me this. Just how do you plan to fight your way past all of my crew? Pirates who are blood thirsty and sex hungry on the best of days, who will be wanting to avenge my untimely death?"

What was left of her fight surely died then and there at those words, Belle’s face taking on an ashen look of horror. She had actually blanched at such a question, the woman’s horror so palpable a thing. He might almost feel sorry for her then, but Hook was just as ruthless a pirate as any other man or woman aboard his ship, and he hadn’t forgotten that little fact.

He couldn’t resist teasing her, offering up a suggestion that he would quickly dash all hope of. “Well, now, I suppose after stabbing me, you could always try to fit through one of the window portholes. You are after all small and slim enough….curves aside...” He let an insolent look touch down on her breasts, before relentlessly continuing the torment, the lesson that she needed instilled in her. “Ah but providing you even KNOW how to swim, let us not forget there is all kind of nasties that lurk in these waters. A great many fishy monsters just waiting for the chance to take a bite out of a delectable piece such as yourself...”

It didn’t seem possible, and yet Belle’s skin, its color had actually worsened in response to that which Hook had been saying. As did her shaking, her body in quivering motion from head to toe. Pity blossomed within him with enough strength to make Hook want to gather the young woman close to him in a show of comfort and reassurances. He had to be sure though, that the lesson, the fear was properly in her, the pirate trampling on his own protective impulses, to instead offer yet another unappealing outcome that Belle could end up facing.

"And then there's always the Queen. As you have been so quick to point out, she'll be looking for you."

"She'll be looking for me regardless." Belle spoke in a whisper, looking that much closer to being defeated.

"I can make sure that she doesn't find you." Hook said it casually enough, though his breath was almost held in the hopes of a favorable reaction from her. One he did not get, the fear that she felt, that he helped worsen, couldn’t quite break her spirit, when it came to the price that he wanted. The price she was in no way prepared to pay, Belle’s eyes flashing with an upset that had nothing to do with her bluff being called, and everything to do with her disdain of him.

"For a price no doubt." She hissed, her chin lifting stubbornly, with a haughty kind of air to the motion.

"Just wanting my reward." Hook answered, unflappable in the face of that, or any other manifestation of her seeming dislike and ingratitude.

"Your reward?!" The way that she exclaimed those two words, made her voice and very manner come off as downright scandalized. "Even if I thought you deserved one, you expect too much from me!"

“And just what is this too much that you say I be expecting?” The pirate inquired. “A reward for a rescue is good form after all, and you more than owe me...”

“I owe you nothing!” She retorted, having yet to let go of the dagger’s hilt, or to stop her bad shaking. “I never asked you to rescue me...and you certainly didn’t do it out of any good intentions, you selfish, overbearing oaf!”

That last unsettled him, Hook wondering just how close she was to guessing just how badly he needed her. That motive, lacking any real rhyme or reason for how it had happened, and yet it had selfishly driven him to go after her. To take her, to outright steal her from the Queen’s grasp, and there was no true or pure reason behind it, Hook just wanting what---the WHO that he had been in so desperate need of.

It might gut him to admit just how badly, at least to her, the woman that was the highly sought after object of his twisted obsession. Wild for her, in a way that he couldn’t make sense to himself, let alone to HER, the truth of the pirate’s need for the beauty, might well be one that he took to his grave.

“There’s not many a man, hero or otherwise, that does anything in this world, without expecting to gain something from it. Be it money, or women, or fame. I don’t see why I must be so maligned for at least openly admitting MY reasons for undertaking such an endeavor.”

Belle’s eyes flashed, her pretty little lips starting to shape a retort he wasn’t in the mood to hear. He squeezed a gasp out of her instead, fingers clamped down hard enough that the lady finally let go of her hold on the dagger. In a swift move, that had it clattering harmlessly to the floor, the palm of his hand then cupped her cheek, a gentle, almost reverent touch, the pirate trying to guide her in for the kiss he was angling for.

With Belle up on tip toe, the pirate bent over his prize, their lips almost touching. Such a feather light caress, every word that he breathed out to her, literally felt by the brown haired beauty. “You gave yourself to me once...” He spoke as a way of reminding her, his eyes intent on hers. “Willingly, and freely even…:

He got the briefest of touch, and the satisfaction to go with it, before she snapped back her answer, shaking free of the palm cupping her cheek. “And I have been regretting it ever since!”

There was a real shade of anguish in her eyes, a haunted expression there that spoke of how extreme a distress Belle had found it, and had found HIM. He still hadn’t caught on to the damage done, to just how badly he had and continued to frighten her so, Belle all a quiver and it wasn’t desire that coursed through her at all. Lively though she was, the woman was also so pale skinned, trying to twist free of him, and settling for shoving at him with her own two delicate hands.

He was upset in turn, fighting back a snarl, that wicked and vile curse an expression of HIS frustration and worry. Even if he thought that Belle was overreacting, it left him with a very real problem, the pirate wondering just how in the world would he ever convince her to let him bed her, without a use of true force. Coercion and the gratitude card, the reward that he felt that Belle owed him, had all fallen flat at the attempt at using them as a convincing argument.

He just couldn’t understand, couldn’t come close to comprehending her own doubt and misgivings. It was inconceivable, the idea that he could have hurt her this bad, the man not realizing it was no longer just about the night in the alleyway, but the fear he had birthed within her with all of his bad behavior inside the Queen’s tower.

No closer to knowing of that fear’s existence, let alone having the means to understand and combat it, it was a mix of his curiosity and the frustration that got the better of him. With a tilt of his head, with an almost wounded look in his dark gaze, Hook didn’t have to fake the soft, almost hurt tone of his voice.

“Was it really THAT bad for you?”

Her answer was immediate, her eyes wide with her disbelief, the woman shocked by the question. As though she hadn’t expected him to ask her that, hadn’t thought he would have the nerve, Belle hissing back a question of her own. “You have to ASK?!” Not that she let him answer that, Belle all but shouting, “Yes, you brute, YES!”

For one frozen second, Hook reeled in place, wondering if there was a true chance of the possibility that he had hurt Belle worse than even he had first realized. He did a kind of grimace that was half a frown, the pirate trying to remember better that night in the alleyway, to think past the remembered feel of her, and the pleasure he had taken for himself. She had been crying, he was certain, though the rain fall had been such, that it had been hard to make out the tears. But there had been no missing the red rim of her expressive eyes, or the wounded look of her expression. Her trembling lips had shaped the sounds of discomfort, and even a plea or two, but he had been so lost, so utterly consumed with ALL that HE had been feeling.

Searching his memories further, he remembered how she had stumbled, for one moment too unsteady on her own feet to stand without the aid of another. Without his hand steadying her, and then she had slapped him, with the full force of her strength. She had run off after, and the fact that Belle had been able to walk at all, had been a good sign, hadn’t it? A sign that he hadn’t done as bad as he could have, her virginity ruined but not that of her body.

But now? Gazing down at the defiant and distressed young woman, the beauty wild in her struggles to get free of him, it began to make Hook doubt just what he had witnessed in that alleyway. She had lurched away from him on unsteady legs, but maybe that running away she had done, had been nothing but a mask to disguise just how badly she had truly been hurting. Because injured or not, sometimes sheer desperation caused a person’s body to do things it might otherwise not have been capable of, Hook remembering how he had attacked Rumplestiltskin, even after the monster had chopped off his hand. Rage had fueled him then, that and the desire to see Milah avenged. But what could have fueled Belle? Hurt alone might not have done it, suffering as she had been, as still now was, Belle intent on getting away from him. On escaping the villain who had inflicted his own permanent scar on her heart.

He frowned with that thought, with the idea of it, Hook able to admit to himself he had done his fair share of damage to the lass. He was still limiting his misbehavior to just that night, unable to comprehend doing anything else wrong. At least now he could speak the words that might be coming a little too late, the frown deepening on his face as his tongue faltered. “I’m...” That hesitation there, it was born of how uneasy he was, Hook not a man used to apologizing even when it was well deserved as it most certainly was in this case. “I’m sorry…”

Her struggling abruptly halted, Belle’s whole body seeming to stiffen in response to those words. She did not immediately move to accept such a shoddy attempt at an apology, but neither did she moved to outright reject it. Instead her eyes met his, that gentle blue still wearing keenly her distress. She searched his gaze, as though to test his sincerity, and for one beat of their hearts, he was absolutely serious. But it was almost as if he couldn’t help himself so wild with need for her, that he couldn’t leave things on so somber a note, or even behave. With his eyes taken on an intense smolder of a look, with his voice holding a cajoling element to it, he tried for the seductive, his hand again cupping her face.

“Let me make it up to you.”

Eyes back to suspicious, Belle could only maintain a wary silence. He should have heeded it too, the quiet that she snubbed him with, a warning to be cautious. Unable to tread carefully where she was concerned, the very next thing that came out of his mouth, was a blatant proposition. A sexual entreaty that showed how little he had thus far learned.

"Let me show you how much better sex between us CAN be."

Her lips had parted in her absolute shock, Belle seeming almost speechless in response. And then her gaze narrowed, not quite a glare managed, as she found her voice. "You, Captain..." She hissed in her most frostiest of tones. "Are outrageously misguided if you think that is in any way an apology a LADY like myself can or would ever be willing to accept. I don't know what kind of woman you are used too, but you will find that I am a different class all together."

That much he did not doubt, Belle indeed different. Far more beautiful and stubborn than most any other woman, she was making him crazy with his inability to seduce her into his arms. He didn’t come close to better understanding why it was proving so difficult, and normally this much of a challenge might have thrown him off the hunt. There had and was always other women to be found, ones that were eager and willing to join him in spreading their legs. But none of those other women, be they paid whores, or willing lovers, had ever had even half as intoxicating an effect as this pretty little brown haired wench has had on him. An almost drugging influence, she was like a siren that had caught him in her clutches, such a soothing enchantment worked upon him, and Hook would be damned thrice over before he let Belle refuse him anymore.

The weeks spent apart, all those fantasies alive in his head, it felt like they had been apart for just short of forever, and his lust was at a breaking point. With the desire flooding his veins, with his temper just this close to bursting, and his patience not only short, but at an end, he caught out and pulled her in. He had one satisfying moment of seeing a startled blue giving over to her panic, and then Belle was beating at his chest. She had realized it a moment too late, that Hook was done with the talking, with his attempts at reason and cajoling. She cried out, no more a threat with her fists, than she had been with that dagger, Belle knowing even without his scare tactics, there was dozens upon dozens of reasons why she would have never been able to go through with actually killing this man, With killing ANY man, and it had little to do with the fact that there was no real escape for her, and everything to do with the type of person she was. A kind hearted soul, one who simply didn’t have it within her to murder anyone in cold blood. She was simply too soft a heart, unable to truly hurt or treat anyone maliciously, not Rumplestitlskin, not the Queen, and certainly not even the pirate who so threatened her now.

She’d always be a victim, Belle realized, so long as she felt that way. Hindered by her own brand of mercy, that killing instinct that she lacked, Belle now knew what Hook had known from the start. That any weapon that she might try to pull on him, or on anyone else, would only be as a good as her bluff. A bluff that would never get stronger, so long as Belle wasn’t ready and willing to do a killing blow, and Hook knew and took advantage of that weakness.

She still tried to scream her way free, struggling ever more wildly, as he carried her off towards his bed. “Unhand me!” But her voice was pitched too high with fear, the woman unable to put any real authority to her demands. They were simply as overpowered as she was, Belle finding her fight mounting, heart racing at an alarming rate over what she expected to happen in just a few short seconds. That fear made the anticipated hurt seem all the worst, Belle so scared of the pirate who held her, his eyes wearing so dark and hungry a look. That blue was devouring her as though she was already naked, that smoldering color all rife with masculine desire and intentions. He was uncaring of her struggles, of the protests she let loose with, a single minded focus there that was far too disturbing in how much it fixated unwavering on her. Caught by it, by HIM, even Belle was starting to realize that something more was going on then what was at hand. Pirates may have a strong lusting reputation, all dirty and underhanded where women and their thieving were concerned, but this went beyond that, beyond all the stories.

It wasn’t right, HE wasn’t right, looking at her that way, both like he wanted her and that she was his entire world, Belle couldn’t claim to at all understand it. And this unreal and abnormal situation didn’t leave her much room to try, Belle lacking the luxury of the freedom to try and think her way through to comprehending what was truly going on with him.

She was worse off then that, unable to think or reason her way out of such a situation. The panic continued to build inside her, and for all those uneasy realizations that she had had, it didn’t take even a minute for Hook to reach the large bed in the center of the room. She was deposited onto a very firm mattress, with only minimal give towards the softer parts of it. She tried to sit up, tried to scramble away, but he was on her in a second, Hook’s hand never leaving her as he moved to join her on the bed. Belle was aware of saying things, of making a great many attempts that went ignored. The pirate was simply too determined and demanding, too focused on his own needs and desires, to pay any true attention to hers.

Situation still so unreal, Belle quickly closed her eyes to shut out the way that the pirate continued to look at her. But it left her other senses spiking, picking up the slack left over from her lack of sight. She could smell him better than ever, a clean scent of the sea and his leather, with a hint of masculine arousal that seemed to grow even stronger. Worse yet was that of touch, his face nuzzling the crook of her shoulder, so that she felt his firm lips kissing there, along with the raspier sensation of his beard hairs on her skin.

Belle nearly jumped out of her skin when the pirate moaned into her shoulder, the sound so blatantly sexual. His arm with the hook had looped around her waist, holding her fast while leaving his hand free to touch her. And touch her he did, skimming his fingers from her collar to down between her breasts. Belle was sure that if the pirate were to shift his hand just right, he'd feel the frightened, wild beating of her heart.

It only grew worse, Hook touching her legs now. It was a full handed caress, palm and fingers called into play as that hand moved from thigh to knee, then back again. Each sweep of his hand, caused her tunic to ride up higher, until finally she lay exposed save for the panties that Belle still wore underneath the prison garb.

Her breath hitched in her throat, when he laid a possessive hand over her there, with only the thin fabric of her panties to serve as barrier against the scalding touch of his skin. She couldn’t be brave any longer, her spirited self lost when the tears begin burning their feel in her eyes. Belle practically choked on a sob, such a weak and hysterical note escaping her throat. Her eyes stayed closed, shut so tight that she didn't see the reaction that the pirate had had to that choked out sound, nor was she able to comprehend the hesitating quiver of his hand, his fingers pausing from their blatant caressing.

"Are...." She could almost imagine him frowning. "Are you crying?"

Belle said nothing, didn't so much as nod or shake her head. But she trembled all the same, shaking and shivering as though caught up in a storm. She was so cold, and yet was burnt from wherever he had touched. Scalded by his lips, branded by his hand, and made crushed under his weight. It was all too much, the tears were then falling, the pirate having gently brushed his fingers over her shut tight eyes. Belle then heard him curse, and when she dared peek open her eyes, she saw him staring not at her, but at his fingers, with that of her tears glistening on the tips.

Hook's eyes no longer glinted with that ravenous look. Instead the pirate simply looked confused, as though he couldn't understand, could not comprehend why anyone, why Belle herself would be crying in this kind of situation. Nor could Belle understand Hook's reaction to her tears, why they would affect him to the point he'd actually stop mid way through his molestation. He'd actually frown, bringing those tear stained fingertips to his lips for a brief taste. And then their eyes would meet, Hook staring at Belle for a long moment, before letting out a stream of vicious curses.

Flinching, Belle saw how Hook reacted to even that. His hand would cup her cheek, his lips parting to say something. He seemed to think better of it, abruptly drawing back so that Belle was free of his touch completely. She quickly scrambled to put even more distance between them, not trusting him in the slightest. Her heart continued to hammer fast in her chest, almost hurting her with its frantic beats.

There was another one of those moments, where so many things went unvoiced between them. Hook stared at Belle, actually looked her over from head to toe, his eyes showing the struggle within him. He still wanted her, still wanted to bed her, but was also made disturbed by her tears. She didn’t understand, but neither did Belle make any attempt to wipe them away, aware that they might be the only thing keeping her safe from Hook's lusts.

Hook for his part, was shaken by the protective instincts that had been roused by the sight of Belle's tears. By the needs that insisted he comfort not scare her, that told him to take her in his arms for no other reason than to hold and reassure her. It was weird and practically unheard of, Hook the type to ignore or laugh at any weeping female. And yet with Belle, all it took was a few tear drops spilled and he was made undone, Hook at last realizing just how badly he was frightening her.

That fright couldn't cool down the fires of his loins completely. Hook still wanted her, was still obsessed with Belle, with the having of her. But it no longer seemed quite as appealing, to force his attentions on her so explicitly. The tears put everything into new perspective, made Hook realize how very bad his idea to show Belle by force how good sex between them could be, had truly been.

It left him to feel downright embarrassed, but also angry that his fantasies weren't playing out the way that he had imagined them to. That Belle herself wasn't acting the way he had come to expect, the way that he still needed her to. She wasn't supposed to cry, and she wasn't supposed to be scared. Her anger while unpleasant, seemed infinitely more manageable, than this tear streaked lass who shivered and shied away from his every touch.

When Hook had brought Belle to his bed, he had thought it all but a given conquest. She would resist, but as he continued to caress, stroke and kiss her, her protests would melt away. Until she was panting with need, and all too willing to spread her legs for him. Instead the very actions that were meant to seduce her into submission, had only made things worse, Belle scared and CRYING.

Hook still wanted Belle. Still wanted to do all the things he had fantasized about, to finish what he had attempted to start just a few minutes ago. But he was also realizing it mattered to him that Belle not be scared, that she would enjoy and want him back. But it was also adamantly clear that it wasn't going to happen today, or tomorrow, and God help him--them both, if it dragged on for more days than that. Because Hook felt near his limit, felt he could hold back for only so long, before he messed things up completely.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued....

8/30/2021 Updated, with various segments tweaked and rewritten.

---Michelle

[headphones-to-holocene-blog]

My Tumblr Crushes:

littlesiren

captainbeauty

ilovett

ginnifergoodwinn

sassyparrilla

lasagnaparrilla

fuck-me-cosima-parrilla

meqhanory

poisonousredapples

because i can

[teamaequitas-blog]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award, you are supposed to paste it in the ask of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen, but it’s sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.

D’awww! Love you, Amy!

[captains--orders]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award, you are supposed to paste it in the ask of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen, but it’s sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.

heeehee captainbeauty thinks i'm beautiful!

[feyresarcheron]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award, you are supposed to paste it in the ask of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen, but it’s sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.

aw thank you!

[carolsarchive-blog]

*gives you a hug* pass this on to the first 10 people on your dash to keep it going? :) you never know who may need it