#Gus March Phillips fanfiction

[littlefreya]

Before the storm

Summary: Gus finds way to keep you warm as you both sail on a leisure cruise.

Pairing: Gus March Phillips x Female reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: 18+, romance, fluff and smut, sex, oral sex (woman receiving), a bit of fingering, teasing, a sweater, a pinch of angst.

Read here

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

My Home Is You Part 1/3

A/N: I am so obsessed with this movie, I've seen it twice. Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting.

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part 2 Part 3

“What’s that?” Freddy points to the lump behind Gus’s coat. 

“Nothing,” Gus shrugs, “shall we.” 

“We shall not,” Freddy shouts exasperated, “it’s moving! Unless you became the hunchback of Notre Dame in the ten minutes I left you, you got something hidden behind your back!” 

“He’s got a point, boss,” Hazy shrugs. 

Gus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I think the jig is up,” he pushes the coat up and out you pop from behind his side, disappearing behind him with a shriek. 

“Where the hell did you find a woman?!” Freddy looks around, then goes silent putting two and two together, “Oh, I see.” 

“She’s coming with us,” Gus reaches behind him and you grasp his hand, trembling hard at being surrounded by so many men. His touch is warm, and you take a moment to breathe before stepping out from behind him at your full height. 

“Hello,” you whisper, giving an awkward wave. 

Gus lets go of your hand and claps making you jump and his face quickly turns apologetic, “Fuck, sorry about that, love. These are the boys,” he points to each man giving you a quick rundown on his merry band of miscreants. He turns to you with a proud smile, “I never did catch your name.” 

“Let me get this straight,” Freddy puts his hands on his hips, sticking out one finger towards Gus, “you find a random woman hidden in a Nazi garrison, fight your way out with her, and decide to bring her with us, without asking her name first?” 

“Probably did it a bit backward,” Gus rubs the back of his head with a chuckle, “but I’m making up for it now.” 

You clear your throat and they all turn towards you as you say your name, a small smile spreading across your face when they repeat it to you. “Welcome to the team,” Anders bows before putting his bow over his shoulder, “shall we get back to the boat, we got somewhere we need to be.” 

“After you,” Gus says, frowning when he realizes Anders is already halfway back to the boat. “That’s the spirit Lassen, lead the way!” Gus slings an arm around your shoulder and helps you walk, it’s slow and painful; your foot aches with every step but you keep it to yourself. These men have already done enough liberating you and agreeing to take you with them. The last thing they need is for you to be injured. But nothing gets past Gus. 

He doesn’t ask, just leans down and swings you up into his arms. You gasp, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Wh-what are you doing?” you whisper. 

“You’re limping,” he whispers back, almost like two children sharing a secret, he grins. “I’m not about to let you hurt yourself worse before I can take a look at your injuries.” 

“I’m fine,” you bite your lip looking away, “you’ve done enough already.” 

Gus stops, the others moving around him to toss the rope down the cliff side, “Darling, I know you’ve just spent gods knows how long with the worst creatures imaginable but not all of us are monsters.” 

“I didn’t say you were,” you turn back to him, and catch your breath when you notice how close he is. “I don’t think you’re a monster at all,” you whisper, swallowing hard, “I just don’t want to cause you any more trouble.” 

“Do you know what I thought when I saw you tucked behind that wall crying and holding your ears?” You shake your head, and he grins, “She looks like just my kind of trouble.” 

The first smile in months spreads like wildfire across your face and you nod. “Ready?” Apple interrupts, “We managed a pulley to get her down.” 

Gus nods, lifting you into the makeshift pulley and working with Apple to lower you down. When you reach the ground Lassen lifts you into his arms while Gus and Apple come down and re-wrap the rope around their arms. 

When finished, Gus reaches his arms out for you and Anders smiles, tugging you closer. “I think I’ll hold on to her for a while. Give you a break,” he looks down giving you a conspiratorial wink. 

“Give me back my damsel,” Gus holds out his arms wider, “I’m not going to ask again.” 

“Who are you calling a damsel?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, and Lassen lets out a joyful cheer. 

“You tell him, honey,” he turns walking with you back towards the dinghy. His glee makes a ghost of a laugh appear in your throat before you toss your head back in delight. 

Apple pats Gus on the back as he climbs into the boat and you look back to see Gus smiling, a full-blown smile just for you and you rest your head on your arm and look back at him. “It’s good to see you laugh,” he mouths, and your cheeks ache from smiling as he sits down and begins to row. 

“Row row, row your boat,” Lassen mumbles under his breath, the lull of the waves and the feeling of safety making your eyes droop. “Oh, the little lamb is tired, no?” he whispers in your ear, “You rest, no one will harm you ever again.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you repeat your fathers words aloud. 

“Little lamb, with the way Gus is looking at me right now. You don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you for the rest of your life.” He rubs a hand over your arm and chuckles, mumbling, “if looks could kill.” 

“He won’t always be there,” your words are drowsy as you burrow deep into his arms, letting out a yawn. 

“Ah, little lamb, I highly doubt that,” Lassen chuckles softly, before you feel yourself being lifted into anothers arms. The scent of smoke, cologne, and leather lull you into a deeper sense of calm and you snuggle into his arms. Gus looks down, brushing a knuckle over your cheek and committing your face to memory as you fall asleep, breathing softly. “Take a picture,” Lassen teases, “it will last longer.” 

“Her cell was next to mine,” Apple interrupts, “she was always so nice to me. Tried to patch me up the best she could through the bars. I tried to return the favor, everytime they brought her….fuck I can still hear the screaming.” The men are silent, the waves crashing against the dinghy as they get closer and closer to the boat. 

“Well,” Freddy clears his throat, “she’s safe now.” They reach the boat, helping Gus aboard and watching as he disappears below deck with you. 

“Heaven help the man who tries to take her away from him,” Hayes clears his throat, and the rest climb aboard and continue on toward Fernando Po. 

Below deck, Gus tucks you into his bunk and watches the rise and fall of your chest before he moves towards the end of the bed, and lifts the blanket to remove your shoe. He curses when he sees the bruising around your ankle. He removes the other shoe and has to control his breathing when he sees the same markings; shackles. 

“Never again,” he whispers, grabbing bandages and ointments and applying them to your ankles. The bottom of your foot is no better, and he grabs the tweezers removing several shards of glass and bandaging your feet. “No wonder you were limping,” he talks to himself. He takes the next twenty minutes checking over the parts of your body he can see, treating every little cut and bruise. When he’s finished he walks over to a basin of water and washes his hands before pouring a glass of scotch and sitting down at the map. 

He loses track of the time, his head snapping up from the table when the screaming starts. He pushes the chair out, climbing over the table to grab your thrashing body. He repeats your name over and over again till your eyes pop open, gasping you reach towards him throwing your arms around his neck and letting out a sob. “I thought it was a dream,” you sob brokenly into his skin, almost crawling into his lap, “I dreamed I was back there,” you take a deep breath, “that they were…” 

“No,” he shakes his head, pulling back to put both hands on your face, his thumbs brushing the tears from your eyes. “You’re safe,” he repeats once, then twice, “do you hear me?” 

“I’m safe,” you repeat back, the tears silently streaming down your face. From the stairs, the men stare at the scene before them. “Uh oh,” Freddy shakes his head, and the others turn to him with various questions. “Look at them,” he points back to you and Gus, “he looks at her like he just realized what love was.” 

“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Freddy,” Apple claps him on the shoulder with a laugh. “I’m not,” he shrugs, “but I’m also not blind. That right there,” he points a finger, “that’s love if I ever saw it. You just wait, I bet you ten pounds she goes home with him at the end of this mission.” 

“I’ll take that bet,” Hayes tosses over his shoulder. 

Apple raises a brow, “you don’t think they’ll end up getting hitched once we’re home.” 

“That wasn’t the bet,” Hayes grins, “he bet that she’ll go home with him at the end of the mission. I think we’ll either be dead or in jail so she probably won’t be going home with him.” 

“Never bet against yourself, Hazy,” Freddy shakes his head, “have I taught you nothing.” 

“It’s your deal,” Henry reminds him before shrugging past to go back to the deck, “let’s go, give them some privacy.” 

Their steps recede and Gus rubs the last of your tears away, “do you want something to eat?” 

“Yes,” you nod, moving from his lap and tugging the blanket around your shoulders. When you step down, you quickly look at the bandages around your feet and ankle before meeting his eyes, “thank you,” you whisper, “for everything.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he puts the kettle on, “any decent human being would do the same.” You sit down at the table seeing the maps and confidential files spread across the surface. Gus grabs the papers and puts them into a pile before putting down a cup of steaming tea before you. 

“I have a few questions,” you wrap your hands around the cup, absorbing some of the warmth. 

He takes a sip, blowing the top with a grin, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

“What were you doing in the Garrison?” 

“Rescuing Appleyard,” he takes another sip, “we needed him.” 

“For what?” 

Gus puts down his cup, crossing his arms over his chest and your heart beats a little louder at how strained the fabric is over his bulging biceps. You quickly take a sip of your tea, burning your tongue when you meet his eyes, seeing amusement sparkle. “Enjoying the show?” you cough, the tea spilling down the front of your dress. “Shit,” he shouts, grabbing a towel and pulling out the chair beside you to sit down. You grab it and soak up the liquid from your dress, the top sinking lower with each tug. 

When you’re finished you glance up to see his eyes on your chest before he quickly averts his eyes and clears his throat. “Enjoying the show?” you smile softly when he coughs and lets out a strained laugh. 

“Very much,” he turns his head and your mouth goes dry. Neither says anything for a moment before he goes back to the pile and tugs out the map. You take another sip of tea to prevent being parched when he spreads it over the table. “We’re on a secret mission for the English government.” “Come again?” you clear your throat, sitting up straighter. 

He grins, “We are on an unsanctioned, unofficial mission to destroy a ship and two tug boats holding enough supplies to supply the German U-boats for six months. We destroy those ships and we regain control of the Atlantic.” 

“And how do you plan to do that?” 

“Explosives,” he pushes a tin of biscuits towards you, “tons of explosives. What do you think?” 

You sit there for a moment, processing everything he’s said before reaching into the tin and pulling out a ginger snap. You dip it into your cup before taking a bite with a grin, “where can I sign up?” 

[hencvl]

His Little Nymph.

⊱ where a marine who retired and become a sailor found a woman who almost drowned when she was surfing. he rescued her, and his love for her started to blossom ever since.

⚠ | possessive behavior, smut, breeding kink, rough play, pregnancy, death, angst. dom!Gus. lots of fluff.

Also be aware that this story was written by an amateur who's still learning how to write a proper story (and also slow update). I sincerely apologize for any mistake that i made, no matter if it's the grammar or the spellings, english is not my first language.

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 | 𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙧

𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼 𝑜𝑓?

𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼𝐼 𝑜𝑓?

𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼𝐼𝐼 𝑜𝑓?

[littlefreya]

Neptune's Snare

Summary: She came to take revenge on the loathsome man who murdered her fiance, only to become his captive.

Read Chapter One

Pairing: AU!Pirate August Walker x Virgin OFC (for now 😏)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Sexual themes, dark themes mentioned, historical inaccuracies, kidnapping, captivity, graphic descriptions of sex, intimidation, slow burn, sexual tension, foul language.

A/N: I was unsure whether I should do part 2, but @deandoesthingstome (💖) motivated me to do it, so I truely hope you will like it. Many thanks to @agniavateira, for beta'ing. I am no longer using my old tag list, but I will tag those who specifically asked to be tagged for this story via my new Writing Update Blog @littlefreyaslibrary.

Thanks for reading, and please reblog with a comment 🖤

Chapter Two

Hours had passed since the Captain left—hours of futile attempts to escape the cruelty of the heavy iron binds. By now, the ship was deep into the ocean, miles away from any harbour or piece of land. The notion that she’d been abducted by the most ruthless murderer known to authorities had only just begun to sink. 

As hot tears stung at her cheeks, Lizette couldn’t help but chuckle at the stupidity that led her to this fate.

‘Did you really think that a foolish girl could succeed where great men had failed?’ 

If Lizette had dared be honest, she would admit she never thought that plan through, not that it mattered much anymore. Soon enough, she would be yet another shiny trinket in Blackbeard’s gaudy collection.

Exhausted from a fierce yet futile battle, she leaned her head back against the plush, gold-paneled wall. Her weary gaze drifted through the open window, where the dark skies and black seas merged into a desolate void. No light shone through tonight; the darkness has devoured the stars and the moon. Lizette felt as if she was drowning in it too, sinking into a thick, tar-like liquid. With each breath, the collar around her throat grew heavier, the iron pressing into her skin and dragging her deeper and deeper until everything faded to black.

When she blinked again, it was still night but the cabin was lit in deep shades of honey and amber. Her heart skipped—once for the iron still hanging from her neck and twice as her bleary eyes caught sight of a shadow by the edge of the big table.  

It appeared that her host had returned. 

Boots flung across the food-abundant table, the Captain sat back in his royal velvet chair. One hand cradled a silver chalice whilst the other toyed with the edge of his thick whiskers. Silver trays of food, wine, and books were splayed before him, surrounded by dozens of fat, wax-dripping candles. The flickering flame guttered upon his eyes, painting them bright red while he observed the girl intently. 

The curiosity was mutual, at least to some extent. As loathsome as the pirate was, Lizette could not help but scrutinise. Never in her life did she see a man so crude and yet so regal at the same time, He looked like a washed-out king, holding himself to a higher status amongst the scum aboard his ship. Surrounding himself with fine art, books and scientific obscurities, one would assume that this low-life man was educated, or at least aspired to be. His appearance, too, was of some sort of false elegance,  with his moustache carefully groomed and his hair neatly combed save for an errant curl that fell upon his tanned forehead. However, the white cotton shirt that hung partially unbuttoned and loose from his shoulders exposed him for what he truly was as it revealed a myriad of tattoos, scars, and coarse hair. 

‘Nothing but a filthy scoundrel.’

“At last, sleeping beauty is awake.” 

Lizette kept her tongue knotted. The blazes on her stare answered on her behalf. 

August scoffed at the silent response. ‘Precious little thing,’ Had only she known how much he enjoyed obstinate women. The only thing that was better than bending a spitfire to his will was getting a nun to kneel before his cock.

A slight twitch tugged at his cheek; his smirk widening at the fond memory.  

‘Ah, Mary… you sure pray hard.’

Letting go of his whiskers and the chalice in his grasp, the Captain reached for a loaf of bread and split it in half. Steam rose and coiled to the air.  The scrumptious scent of the freshly baked goods quickly filled the room and wafted over Lizette in a tempting invitation. Absentminded, she suckled her bottom lip, almost able to taste the sweetness on her tongue. 

The pirate held out one piece of the loaf, an unmistakably provoking grin lighting his face. “Would you dine with me, pet?”

Weakness unfurled through her, reminding Lizette that it must have been hours, if not an entire day, since she last ate. Her empty belly flipped and gurgled so loudly that the pirate could hear it even from where he sat. Joy immediately cascaded about his glance; the impish grin between his cheeks further stretched. 

To his delightful surprise, the girl was a lot more stubborn than she appeared. Instead of begging, she offered a spiteful glare and turned her face away. 

“I’d rather starve!” 

“Suit yourself.” The Captain shrugged and bit on one of the pieces. Hums and moans sputtered from his mouth, all exaggerated to taunt his brazen prisoner. As he finished chewing, he sucked on each of his inked fingers. 

“Got a name, pet?”

“What matter is that to you?” The girl spat.

August shrugged again and returned to the chalice, dragging it on the table's surface in circular motions. A deep-red whirlpool briefly formed in his drink. He stared at it indifferently as he retorted, “Matters not, pet. But since you’ll be spending some time here in my quarters, I will require a moniker to approach you by. Question is, would you rather I choose a name for you myself? It won’t be a nice one. I can promise you that.” 

Keeping her eyes averted, the girl folded her knees and hugged them, a deep sigh sinking from her. She couldn’t even bring herself to imagine the horrendous name he would choose.

“My name is Lizette.” 

A touch of dark delight kissed his face—as if he had heard the enchanting hymn of a siren. Thoughtful, he stopped stirring his drink to the sound of her name, licked his lips, lifted the chalice and pressed it to his lips. “Ah, yes, you are definitely a Lizzy.” 

“It’s Lizette!” she vehemently corrected.  

“Oh!” The pirate abruptly twirled his free hand in the air, his brows lifting in a sardonically submissive gesture. “Forgiveness! Mercy, milady!” That had earned him the attention he was hoping to receive, as finally, Lizette snapped to glare at him. 

The pure ire on her face did nothing but feed his amusement. 

With a slanted grin and his thumb brushing his whiskers, he eyed her back. It’s been a while since a girl piqued his fascination, and this one was indeed something else. Fear seeped from her like dewy nectar from a ripe fruit. The sheen of sweat clinging to her skin and the throbbing at the crook of her neck gave away her true emotions. Yet, she exuded the unyielding fury of a harpy, the shackles around her throat barely deterring her brazen spirit.. 

‘Bold little thing. As ferocious as the ship’s cat…’ August thought and then frowned, ‘Where is that ungodly creature, anyway? Haven’t seen it in a while.’ 

“Lady Lizette…” the correct moniker rolled smoothly on his tongue in an inherently sinister sweetness. “Are you always such a rude guest to your hosts?”

“Guest?!” Lizette seized the chain that held her collar to the wall and lifted it in front of him—a deep frown decorating her weary face.  

“I am not a guest! I am a prisoner!”

“Ah! Ah!” The pirate lifted his inked index finger in an unbearably pretentious manner. "It was you who came aboard my ship willingly, and let us not forget—uninvited.” 

Lizette felt a chill in her chest, the same chill she always sensed when getting an answer wrong in her Latin lessons. He was right, and there was more to it. Pirate or not, doesn't every man deserve respect in his own home? 

That notion made her cheeks hot. 

“And if I may…“ the pirate drawled huskily and shifted into his seat. Lizette’s eyes followed his movement with the wariness of a skittish cat. Initially bemused, she realised his hand had snaked below the table and was now fumbling with his waistband. 

A deep, pulsating pang bloomed in her core as the primordial anxiety every maiden is doomed to suffer from awoke within her. Alarmed, she shook her head and blurted hoarsely, “Wait!” 

The pirate paid her no mind; either he didn’t hear or didn’t care. Then, his hand sprang back sharply with a pistol in his grip—the same one he had confiscated from her merely a few hours before. 

“Did you not attempt to murder me in my own home?” 

With those words, he slammed the pistol on the table, the dull thud booming through the cabin wall and causing Lizette to jump with a start.

Sinking back to his red regal chair, August crossed his fingers together and pressed his lips together with the contempt of an authority figure. The many golden trinkets around his fingers chimed as they collided. 

“Answer me, Pet.” 

Lizette regarded the pistol carefully. The golden floral embellishments upon the handle sparked with the candle's light.  For a fleeting moment, she wondered how fast she needed to be to grab the pistol and shoot him dead in his rotten heart. Instead, she simply nodded, much as she could with the heavy collar around her neck. The spots where the sharp edges grazed her flesh burnt as sweat dripped over the bruised skin.

“Dumb as your plan was, I do appreciate the gesture, las. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to murder me, but it’s definitely the first time it was a beautiful young lady. Was all of this because of a boy?” He challenged, crooking one eyebrow. 

This time, Lizette did not hesitate to answer. 

“You robbed me of my future!” She corrected, and though she tried to maintain a fierce demeanour, the quiver in her voice gave away the rageful grief. 

Sympathy, sadly, was not in August’s books, especially not whilst being distracted by the way her breasts pressed against the confines of the corset with every fervorous breath. A small, almost inaudible groan left his lips. He wondered if she, indeed, was a virgin. Did he deny her of her wedding night? Were these lovely tits ever in the hands of a man before? 

Surely, he would find out. One way or another. 

With a glare still fixed on her cleavage, he grazed his dimpled chin and simply shrugged. 

“Pirate.” 

Lizette hissed in response. Defiant, she snapped her arms across her chest to hide her cleavage. 

‘Pig.’

“So I robbed you of your future,” August continued, mimicking quotation marks with his long, inked fingers. “And thus, you thought you should rob me of mine?” 

“And what future would that be? Murdering and whoring?” she muttered hatefully.  

The pirate swatted a hand over his chest, giving her a fake, exaggerated pout. “Now that pains me, love.” 

Lizette could sense the blood seeth beneath her skin. She was used to men belittling her, but never did she experience such sheer mockery and humiliation. Trembling, she yelled back, “Good! I wish you nothing but pain!”

“And so she continues to insult me in my own home.” August clicked his tongue and shook his head with sardonic disappointment. “You highborn ladies sure lack respect. ‘Funny thing is, no matter how uppity women like you act, they all want the same thing…” his voice slurred and deepened, coaxing a baffled look from the maiden who abruptly forgot her wrath and ate the bait. 

“And what would that be?” 

The pirate stood and calmly paced to the fore of the table, where he leaned against the edge to peer down at his prisoner. Lizette remained guarded. he was fairly far away yet close enough for his shadow to fall upon her face and for his manhood to be situated at the level of her mouth. She struggled to avoid staring at it directly, which only made that wretched smug smile light his face again.

“What you ladies truly want is to be violated by none other but us ‘lowlife scoundrels’,” August nibbled his bottom lip, a dry chuckle escaping him as more fond memories came to mind. “Truly, the lots of you are bored by the castrated virility of the poised gentlemen. All you fantasise about is to be fucked dirty like a whore by a brute who has no sense of propriety.” 

The pirate held his fist before him and mimicked a slow pumping motion. Although Lizette did not quite understand it, his words alone were enough to leave her gravely unsettled. 

“You are an animal,” she snarled, not realising that her nails were biting into her forearms as she clutched herself so protectively. 

But that merely fueled him.    

“Tell me, Pet, did your boy satisfy those dark desires before he left a delicious bonny lass like yourself all alone? Did he split open and plundered your sweet little cunt, ass, and mouth, or did he leave you wet and miserable?”

Heat crawled at Lizette’s cheeks, yet she wasn’t sure whether it was from outrage or shame. Never in her life had she even considered the possibilities he had suggested, and now those horrifying images poisoned her mind.  

Amused by her obvious mortification, the pirate tilted his head impishly. “No? Not even a finger or a tongue?”

“Stop it!” She implored, her voice cracking.

Ignoring her plea, he clicked his tongue. “Aw, sweet, tender flower. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He left you all alone and uncharted—that lonesome seal, begging to be invaded. Well, milady, you didn’t have to threaten me with a pistol in that case. All you had to do was ask.” 

The pirate reached for his bulge and squeezed it, much to Lizette’s dismay.

”Trust me, one night with me, and you’d forget you ever loved him.”

That was enough to send Lizette over the edge. Not thinking twice, she jerked to her feet, the chains around her rattling along a furious onslaught that sputtered from her mouth. 

“Love?! What do you know about love? You are a monster! All you do is kill and rape! You are incapable of love, and I’d be damned if anyone could ever love you!” 

All the candles in the cabin flickered with a sudden gust of wind as the pirate suddenly lunged forward. He moved so fast, too fast. Lizette hadn’t even had the chance to sway from his touch, and already he was upon her. Crude fingers dug deep into the hollows of her cheek, forcing her to face his terrorising stare. 

“You think this is a game? You think you know anything about me, little girl? About what I’ve done!?” 

It was not a question to be answered, and even so, Lizette couldn’t bring herself to speak; she was suffocating, drowning on the surface. All around her, the air stood dense with the scent of iron, wine, and musky sweat, whilst the weight of his body crushed as it clung to her. 

Closer, deeper. Layers upon layers of silk and wool separated their skin from one another, and still, she sensed the curve and firmness of his robust figure. The woven map of muscles that adorned his torso and the flex each muscle made as he tensed were evident 

But none of this came close to what she saw as he forced her to look into his eyesa wrathful maelstrom pregnant with sinister urges beyond her darkest fears. It felt as if it was trying to draw her into a deep sense of anger, and grief submerged her.

Dread began to spill into her veins. He was going to kill her.

Lizette sucked in a deep shuddering breath. She was not going to join her Edward. Not tonight.

“Let go of me!” She squealed and began to punch his shoulders repeatedly. It felt like hitting iron, every blow more painful than the other, yet she refused to stop. 

Indeed, she was just like that sea monster of a cat.

Stoic as an icy sea breeze, the pirate tilted his head at the girl. Despite her desperate efforts, her battle did nothing but vex him. Quirking one eyebrow, he released his grip from her jaw and swiftly reached for her hands. Lizette did her best to evade, squirming erratically, but to no avail. With a swift single hand, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head with a booming thud.

The girl gasped out with surrender, strands of her hair blowing back and forth upon her face as she heaved and panted exhaustingly. With his hand around her wrists and his body slightly bent to meet her height, he stood  closer to her than any other man had before. So close that she could taste the wine and sea salt on his breath and study every freckle and every scar that marked his skin. He was nothing like her Edward, she thought; he was coarse and terrifying, and despite it all, she found him tragically beautiful. 

She hated him for that. 

“Listen to me now and listen carefully,” he finally spoke, tightening his grip around her wrists.

Liaette lifted her chin disdainfully; it took every ounce of self-restraint not to spit at his murderous, smug face. 

“You’ve mistook my hospitality and playfulness for kindness, but let’s get this straight; I am not a good man. Upset me, and I will pluck that little flower between your thighs without blinking and then throw you to my crew once I have my fill.” 

His words brought a stark shiver down her spine, yet it wasn’t just fear this time but something far more primordial. Between her trembling thighs, she sensed dewy wetness. A desperate gnawing need she had never known before. Trying to ease and brush it off, she squirmed and ground her thighs. 

August’s brow rose with realisation, an immediate knowing grin spilling upon his malicious face. He leaned closer, his lips and whiskers brushing against her ear as he spoke. 

“Seems like there won’t be much resistance from you, isn’t that so, pet? Soon, you’ll beg me to fuck y…”

His words were cut as warm saliva splattered on his cheek. 

He shut his eyes momentarily, releasing a deep, exasperated grunt and then moved an inch away to fish a silk handkerchief from his pocket. Lizette watched proudly as he wiped his face. 

The pirate, however, was not amused. Throwing away the handkerchief, he offered her a deadly frown. And then he leaned in, his mouth drawing voraciously closer to hers as if meaning to devour her.

“I warned you…”

“Captain.”

A low, sonorous call followed from the door, drawing both August and Lizette to turn their heads toward the uninvited guest. 

Lizette blinked twice. The man in question was almost the spitting image of August, though his hair was wild with earthy curls and his beard fully grown, pointy, and tended with wax. Indifferent to the scene before him, he drew a pipe from his pockets and lit it with the flame of a candle that stood on a shelf near the door.  

August regarded him with slight respect, yet not without annoyance:." What is it? I am busy.”

“I can see that,” the other pirate puffed out, grey lines of smoke following through his nostrils, “you are needed at the brig.”

“About?”

“Flint might finally speak.”

Eyes ablaze with sudden intrigue, August straightened to his fall height and drew a step back from the girl yet kept his grip around her wrists. 

“I assume your methods worked, brother?” He crooked one eyebrow at the other pirate curiously. 

‘Brother, of course,’ Lizette nearly chuckled. The men must have been twins, although she could tell the other sibling had far more grey in his untamed mane. 

“My methods always work.” He answered with dry arrogance. “Finish her off later. This is more important.”

August lingered, his fingers brushing over his moustache as he contemplated what to do with his sweet little prisoner. The possibilities were endless, yet the more interesting ones would take some time, and with the trouble she gave him, he definitely wanted to give her what she deserved. 

A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips. “A moment, Gus,” he requested, finally unhanding the girl. 

The man, now known as Gus, bowed his head and threw Lizette a quick glance before disappearing into the darkness behind the door.

“It seems like I have some business to attend to, love. Shall we continue our little fun later?” August teased, slight annoyance still lingering at the tone of his voice.

Lizette did not answer. Rubbing her aching wrists, she watched him cautiously while he searched within his pockets.  She wondered what new cruel method of torment he would inflict to her now. 

To her surprise, it was a small silver key.

He lifted it to her face and offered her a razor-sharp  stare." The water is close to freezing; sharks and eels are swimming within them, and every man upon my deck is probably plotting to use you as fuckhole since the moment you stepped onboard. I trust you won’t try anything stupid in my absence.”

“Like what?” Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, she dared to speak back, “Seduce one of your crew members to fornicate with me so he would betray and murder you?” 

Her weariness must have brought out the worst in her because she would have never thought of such an inappropriate, vile thing. Then she realised it was  him who, in less than a few hours, corrupted her soul. 

August paused and contemplated for a moment as if this was an actual possibility he did not consider. However, he brushed it off with a burst of taunting laughter while proceeding to unlock the collar around her neck. “I wouldn’t  recommend it, love. They all come with so many exotic afflictions on their cock s that no doctor has even heard of.” 

As the iron was removed from her little neck, the girl rested her hands around it, massaging the cuts and bruises that formed beneath. It ached even worse as the chill air of the night pecked at the raw flesh. 

The pirate waltzed toward the table, reclaiming the pistol in an obviously provoking manner. He sheathed it back at the front of his waistband and paced toward the door. 

“I won’t be long, love,” he promised, and with that, he left and locked the door behind him.

Lizette listened carefully to the sound of his footsteps, counting them one by one until she could no longer hear him. And then, she began to search around the cabin for anything, anything that can be used as a weapon. 

‘I will not be a pirate’s whore.’  She vowed to herself while absentmindedly grazing a palm over her cheeks where August had touched her. 

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

My Home Is You Part 3/3

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone that has read the first two parts and left a comment or some type of feedback. I really appreciate all of it.

Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting.

Thank you to: @jellybeanstacey0519 & @mrsyixingunicorn10 @peyton-warren @affabletimelady @arctickat2400 @luftmenchz @mrsevans90 for commenting and leaving feedback! :D

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader (she/her)

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part One Part Two

There is no time to bring up what Gus said with the mission looming so close, and in the morning as the sun streams through the gaps in the wood, you observe the man beside you. He looks so peaceful in sleep and you run your finger over his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before you go to climb out of bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbles sleepily pulling you back into his arms and pressing his cheek to your own.

“I wanted to make a cup of tea,” you giggle, leaning back in his arms and turning your head to kiss him, “but someone won’t allow me.”

“That’s right,” he nods giving a little hmph, “I’m the mean old man who keeps you trapped in his bed, so he can have his wicked way with you. No tea for you, darling, just debauchery day and night.” He gives out a fake laugh like the Wicked Witch from that Wizard of Oz movie.

“Gus!” you shout, laughing when tickles your side with a laugh. He stops, keeping you close as you catch your breaths. “You’re ridiculous,” you chastise playfully.

“Ah yes,” he agrees with a smile, “but that’s why you love me.” You tense in his arms and he rubs his hands up and down your own, “what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you let out an awkward chuckle, “I just need to use the ladies room.” He lets you go with a raised brow as you almost trip over yourself trying to get away.

When you’re alone, you lean against the wall and take a deep breath. Everything he said the night before comes back and you give a soft smile realizing that yes, that is why you love him. The man who liberated you from a living hell twenty-three days prior, who held you through your nightmares, that taught you how to shoot, and make you laugh till you cried. Fuck, you loved Gus with all of your heart. But now was not the time to make such declarations. Not when the fate of the British Empire was at stake.

“You alright, my little Tiger,” you nearly jump out of your skin as Anders comes to lean against the wall beside you. “You seem to be deep in thought.”

“No,” you shake your head with a sigh, “no deep thoughts. I’ve just come to a realization.”

“Do you care to share it with ze rest of the class?” he smiles sitting down on a barrel and patting the spot beside him.

You sink into the seat with a sigh, “I love Gus.”

“Yes,” he nods, “we know. Now what is the realization?”

“That was the realization,” you gape at him, “what do you mean, we know?”

“Oh, it’s obvious, both of you are madly in love with the other.”

“Gus loves me?” you wrap your arms around your waist and lean back, looking at the sea repeating the words back to yourself, “he loves me.”

“The first night we met,” Anders grabs your hand and holds it gently, “Freddy told us that Gus looks at you like he just realized what love was. We live a life filled with blood and death at every corner but somehow in all that mess, you found each other. A love like that does not come every day. But when it does, you need to seize it my little tigress, seize it, and don’t let it go.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and he squeezes your hand and leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead before walking away leaving you with your thoughts. Neither of you notice the figure in the corner. Gus clenches his fist and glances away before marching back below deck to prepare for the meeting with Heron.

The rest of the day passes steadily by and you drop anchor just as the sun begins to set on the coordinates. You’d spent the day tucked away, watching the sea go by as you thought of Gus and how the hell you were supposed to tell him you loved him when he might die the following day. “Someone’s coming,” Henry shouts, and you stand, taking unsteady steps as the pins and needles attack your legs.

Gus stands at the front, his shoulders drawn tight and you move to stand beside him. He quickly glances down at you, his jaw clenched before he looks away. You shrink back from him falling into place beside Apple. He looks between you both with a raised brow. But you don’t have an answer for the icy treatment from the man who's been nothing but kind since the beginning.

“Heron my old pal,” Gus grins, reaching across the two boats to shake his hand.

“Gus,” Heron replies, “may I introduce the Prince of Fernando Po, Kambili Kalu.”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere,” Gus puts a finger to his chin, “I could have sworn I’ve seen you before. Perhaps…do you play cricket?”

“I used to, at Eaton,” Bili poses and Gus laughs.

“Yes! I knew it, I remember seeing your portrait in the hall. Great to have you aboard old chap.”

“Glad to be of service. These Germans, they’re bad for business. I heard you could use a few more men,” he shouts something in another language and men come pouring out of every crevice of the tugboat. “Fourteen of my best men.”

“We have additional weapons,” Gus turns going to help Freddy hand over a box when Bili raises a hand with a laugh.

“I think we’re covered. You might want to borrow some of ours.” Bili shouts and the covers unveil an arsenal of weapons and bombs.

“Jolly good,” Gus grins, putting his hands on his hips. “Let’s get everything moved around and discuss the plan before it gets much later.” He turns back to you and the boys and gives the order, everyone moving to do a job but you.

“Gus,” you step towards him but he turns back towards the front of the boat to pull out the map laying it down on the small table. Heron comes aboard and pauses giving you a raised brow when you quickly say your name, “The boys found me with Appleyard.”

“Ah,” he nods, “well glad to have you with us, miss. Marjorie, my associate will be glad to have another woman around for company.”

“Where is she now?” you ask looking around, “did you bring her with you?”

“Oh no,” he shakes his head, “she is getting ready for the party tonight at my Casino. Her mission is different from our own I’m afraid. But we all have the same goal.”

“I see, well I look forward to meeting her when this is all said and done.”

He smiles, shaking your hand, “I’ll be happy to see you again, miss.”

“Heron!” Gus shouts, looking over at you but not keeping contact, “Come on. We have work to do, you can smile at the pretty girl later.”

That does it. “What the hell is your problem?” you shout, putting your hands on your hips. The rest of the men fall silent looking between the two of you. “What did I do wrong, Gus?”

“Nothing,” he lets out a tired sigh, “you did nothing wrong. It’s me that should be sorry.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” you throw your arms up exasperated.

“I shouldn’t have pursued you, made you uncomfortable when all you wanted was Lassen.” Gus drops his shoulders, “it was wrong of me. You can move bunks and we never have to talk abo-”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Gus freezes watching you step over the ropes and boxes that litter the deck. “No seriously, did you hit your head?” You reach him, putting your hands over his head feeling for a bump.

“Uhm, no,” he grabs your wrists gently, lowering them back down. “I saw you two together.”

“What did you see? Hmm? What is it that you saw between me and Lassen that made you think I would be in love with anyone but you?” His eyes go wide but you’re on a roll, “and for that matter, when something is bothering you, you talk to me. You don’t ignore me and sulk like a child, do you understand me-”

He puts a hand to your mouth with a grin, “sorry darling, but could you repeat that last part?”

“Get off me,” you push his hand down, “what did you see between Lassen and I that would give the impression that I wanted to be with him?”

“That’s not what you said,” he frowns.

“Tell me!”

“I saw him kiss you on the forehead and hold your hand!” Gus shouts pointing back at Lassen.

“He was comforting me because I realized I was in love with YOU, you idiot!” Gus freezes, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“You said it again,” he grins, cupping your cheeks, “you said you love me.”

“I do, you buffoon,” you say quietly, “I do love you, Gus. I just didn’t know how to tell you and then Lassen talked to me and I was planning to do it but you ignored me. You hurt me, Gus.”

“Darling,” he runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing away a stray tear, “Darling, please don’t cry. I never meant to hurt you. I was hurting, thinking you were choosing Lassen over me. God, I love you so much, woman. You are my sun and stars and everything in between.”

“You love me?” you whisper, moving closer to close the distance between you.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he presses his lips to your own and you melt into the kiss. The boat erupted in cheers from both sides and Bili slapped him on the back.

“Good show, old boy,” he shouts, breaking the two of you apart. Gus tucks you into his arms, a smile beaming on his face as he presses several kisses to your forehead. “Now,” Bili grins, “let’s kill some Nazis.”

As the night descends the chill sets in and you shiver, watching the harbor lights glow. A jacket drapes over your shoulders and you smile, as Gus puts his arm around you. “It’s a beautiful evening,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “shame it’s going to be ruined by bloodshed.”

“Hopefully none of ours,” he holds you tighter sitting down and you turn wrapping your arms around his neck, straddling his waist. “I couldn’t bear to live without you, Gus.”

“I know Darling,” he runs his hands up and down your back, “the feeling is mutual. It kills me to know you could be in any danger tonight.”

“I chose this team,” you run your fingertips over the nape of his neck, massaging, “I chose to fight alongside them. To fight alongside you.”

“You remember the plan? You’re in charge of the boat, you have an arsenal of bombs to deploy if needed, otherwise when we give the signal you get the hell out of here.”

“I’ll be away from all the action, Gus. I’ll be safe.”

He nods, “I know, but can’t blame a man for worrying about the love of his life being in harms way.” You smile and he kisses you softly, pressing his forehead to your own, “I meant everyword of it darling. I love you and one day I’m going to make me your husband.”

“I like the sound of that,” you giggle, kissing him softly, “not you making me your wife but you my husband.”

“Well we both know who the boss is in this relationship, my love. You tell me where to go and I follow. Till death do us part.”

“Till death do us part, Gus. But please don’t let that be tonight.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he kisses you again, “but I dare them to try to take me away from you.”

“The lights should be out any minute now,” Bili comes to stand beside you, “we should get ready.”

“We’re ready,” Gus stands putting you on your feet. Suddenly a bomb goes off, and the lights of the harbor fade into darkness. “Show time.”

“Wait,” you grab his arm, pointing in the distance at a series of flashing lights, “what’s that?” Suddenly the wireless goes off downstairs and you follow behind Gus down below deck, Bili hot on your trail.

Gus sits at the controls, taking notes and cursing with each word. “Shit,” he whispers, before looking up at the men and clearing his throat, “they’ve reinforced the hull, the ship is unsinkable.”

“We can’t sink it?” you repeat, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Not with the amount we have,” he shakes his head, “goddamn it.” Gus reaches for the headset and switches it off so we can all hear, “M? Come in M?” Static meets them before the signal clears, “we have a situation, the tin has been reinforced, the corned beef cannot be cracked, do you copy it cannot be cracked.”

“Copy,” a voice says from the other end, “standby.” We all wait on bated breath before a new voice sounds on the radio. “Gus March-Phillips, this is Admiral Parker, I order you to abort the mission, do you copy? Abort mission and return home at once. This is an unsanctioned, unauthorized mission. Do you understand?”

“S-ssorry,” Gus pretends to cut out the signal and you grin as he makes noises like static, “can’t hear y-y-you, please fu-fuck o-off.” With that, he turns off the radio and puts his head in his hands, “well, what do we do now?”

“When did they reinforce the hull? Like between the last report and now, when did they have time to do that?” Freddy asks, scratching his head.

“That’s not important,” Gus interrupts, “the problem is, they did it.”

“No, it is important,” Freddy argues, “I’d like to know when in the twenty-something days we’ve been sailing did they manage to reinforce the hull?”

“He’s got a point,” Henry agrees before Gus shouts, shutting them both up.

“It’s not important right now! We have a mission to complete and I have no idea what to do.” The boys shout out ideas, each one more ridiculous than the last before Apple speaks up.

“If we can’t destroy the ships, let’s steal them.”

“Say more,” Gus encourages, pulling you into his lap and running his hand comfortingly over your waist. You all listen with bated breath at Apple’s plan. “It’s just crazy enough that it might work.” Gus looks at you with a grin, “And we all know what a mad bunch we are.”

Mad they may be but their professionalism wins out when it comes to pulling a plan out of their ass. In minutes, Bili was filled in on the plan and the boys sprung into action. “You remember what I taught you?” Henry asks, gently touching your shoulders, “the boys and I won’t be here to help you.”

“I remember Henry,” you nod, brushing off his hands, “I got this. I know the plan.” Henry nods before giving you a quick hug. The young Irishman was almost like a brother to you, and you’d hate to lose him. You tighten your arms before letting go. “Eh, do me a favor?” He nods, waiting expectantly, “Don’t die.”

He laughs, “I’ll try, but what are you always telling us? Don’t make a promise that ya can’t keep.” Henry lifts his cap before walking to the tug boat and climbing inside.

“I guess this is the end,” Freddy yawns, “It’ll be a terrible bore if we came all this way and died.” Freddy gives you a tight hug before pressing a device in your hand. You glance at him quizically and he winks, “You’ll know if and when to use it.”

“I’ll try to keep an eye on the old boy,” Apple takes his place giving you a quick squeeze and a kiss to the cheek. “Keep yourself out of trouble, won’t you?” You nod, feeling the tears well up, before a Danish Hammer forcibly pushes Apple aside.

“Oh, my little lamb is now a fierce tigress,” Anders chokes up, pulling you in for a hug so tight you’re sure some of your bones crack.

“Let her go, Lassen,” Gus pushes him away, “If you harm a hair on her body I don’t care if you’re my friend you’ll go for a dip in the Atlantic.”

“Gus,” you chastise, before turning to Anders, “take care of yourself, my friend. Though I know you don’t need it. I wish you luck.” He smiles, turns to the tug boat freezing, and turns slowly around when you clear your throat, “Don’t have too much fun.”

He grins like a child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “I’ll try for you.”

“It seems they have all fallen in love with you as much as I have,” Gus grinningly wraps his arms around your waist. “It’s hard to imagine them not.

“You’re biased, my love,” you press your forehead to his own, taking in a shuddering breath and closing your eyes over the sting of tears. “Gus…I.”

“Shhh,” he runs his fingers down your back, “let’s not do the dramatic goodbye. Let’s just say I’ll see you soon. Because I will,” he pulls you back, one finger on your chin, tilting your chin up. You blink your eyes open and the look in his eyes renders you speechless, utter devotion and love shine back at you. “I will see you again, either in this life or the next.” He leans in pressing his lips to your own, he’s warm and the scent of leather and cologne invades your senses leaving you drunk on him. He licks inside your mouth, tangling your tongues together as you grab the collar of his coat, tugging him closer. Before he pulls away with several small kisses to your lips, his mustache twitches with a smile, “I’ll see you soon, my love.”

“See you soon, Gus,” you reply breathlessly, releasing him and watching till he disappears into the tugboat and they pull away.

The waiting is infinite and you jump with every pop of a gun. The sea sways like a mother trying to calm her young, and you tighten your hand on the control Freddy gave you. It’s almost impossible to follow the figures of Gus and Henry as they move on the dock, taking out as many soldiers as possible, but you follow like a hawk, stalking her prey.

“Come on, come on,” you whisper, waiting for the anchor to blow. It seems to take forever but when all falls silent, and the boats move into position the blast comes. It’s loud, sending a ripple through the waves and the dock becomes a fury of activity. Soldiers come pouring out of the only lit warehouse, like champagne pouring out of a bottle. “Oh fuck,” the shooting starts and you clutch the remote tighter. The lights are almost blinding and you stand going over to the wheel and holding yourself steady with the other hand.

The tugboats strain under the heavy weight of the ship, and bullets ricochet off the side. You can hear the shouts of the men, begging the boat to move and a pained cry has you on your tiptoes trying to get a glimpse of the injured party. The situation is grim and you look between the controller in your hands and the scene before you, take a deep breath, and press the button.

The blast is almost powerful enough to knock you over and you have to look away as the light from the explosion threatens to blind you. You slowly open your eyes, standing straight and mouth agape at the sight of the large ship coming straight toward you. “Fuck,” you manuver out of the way, falling into position behind them as you all make a mad dash out of the harbor.

“Those S-boats are gonna be on us soon!” One of the men shout from Bilis crew. Suddenly a second explosion rocks the boat and you turn wide eyed at the collection of S-boats exploding high into the sky.

The men cheer and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, taking the helm and leading the boat out into open water. You try to catch sight of Gus but it’s dark and the boats are moving at full speed. You turn to see the burning harbor when you notice one of the tugs waiting, a familiar head of hair, standing at one end looking off in the distance.

Lights appear across the water and you fumble for the gun Gus left you. You aim, looking down the barrel as the boat gets closer, you can hear Bili shout that they need to go but something gives Gus pause. “It’s Heron!” he shouts, “don’t shoot!” You let out a gasp and lower the gun, adrenaline humming.

They pull alongside the tug and Heron and a beautiful woman in a white dress climb aboard before the tug starts moving closer. When they get about two feet from the edge, Gus runs across the deck of the tug and jumps aboard.

“We did it!” He grabs you, throwing his arms around you and spinning you around with a laugh. He lowers you to the ground, kissing you with his arm wrapped around you with his right, and attempting to steer with the left.

“If you crash, my ship, I’ll kill you boss!” Henry shouts and you break apart, gasping at the blood soaking through the cloth wrapped around his shoulder.

“Henry! You’re hurt!”

“Eh, it’s just a scratch,” he shrugs with a smile.

“Nice timing sweetheart,” Freddy shouts with a smile. “I was worried you weren’t gonna press it.”

“Freddy, I’d blow up a hundred harbors to keep my family safe.”

“Your family?” Gus smiles, “I like the sound of that.”

“Do you?” you ask, wrapping both arms around his waist. “How about another title.”

“What’s that?” He grins.

“My husband.”

Gus keeps his arm around you the entire time, the clock ticking on your time together as the small blip that is the destroyer becomes larger and larger. The ants atop the ship become humans, all standing in crisp white uniforms in a row, one more decorated than the others with a scowl on his face.

“I see we meet again,” the Admiral puts his hands on his hips, “you disobeyed a direct order-”

“We have something for you,” Gus interrupts, “found this ship just abandoned in the Atlantic. Thought it might be helpful for you.”

The Admiral raises his brow looking around your ragtag crew, “I see you’re in cahoots with pirates now?”

“Excuse you,” Gus shouts, “show some respect, you’re in the presence of royalty!”

Bili lifts an imaginary hat with a grin and the Admiral seems less than pleased as he scoffs. “All of you are under arrest by her Majestys government. Come aboard at once.”

“Gus,” you whisper, holding tighter around his waist as he presses a kiss to your head.

“We knew this was coming, Darling, just follow my lead.” He unwraps from your hold and moves around the ship, helping his men aboard the ship till the last one is loaded. Bili’s men stay aboard the tugboat, awaiting his orders.

“Admiral,” Bili bows, “my men and I have finished our work here. Your army will regain control of the Atlantic. I just ask for me and my men to return home to Fernando Po so we may begin the cleanup. We have a nasty bug, that I would very much like to stamp out.”

The Admiral raises his head, his mouth agape from reading the manifest of the ship and two tugs before coughing to clear his throat. “Uhm, yes,” he nods, “I suggest you and your men leave before I change my mind.” He turns to the rest of the crew with a frown, “as for the rest of you, it’s the brig for you.”

Everyone bids Bili goodbye as they are slowly ushered below deck to the brig to await arrival back in England. “This one doesn’t belong,” the Admiral stops the progression pointing to you, “you’re not in the report as a part of the mission. Who is she? What is her purpose here?”

“She’s not a part of the mission,” Gus hurries, halfway pushing you behind him, “we saved her from a Nazi garrison, she was being held captive with Captain Appleyard. I couldn’t leave her behind on that island so we brought her along until we could safely return her to England.”

“Did she have any role in this nonsense?” the Admiral gestures to the three ships floating nearby.

“No. We kept her below deck, away from the action. She’s just a civilian.”

“Gus-” you interrupt but go silent when he gives you a stern look before he masks it with a charming smile.

“She had not role in the plot sir, she’s innocent.”

“Very well,” the Admiral nods, “find her a room. But you go to the brig, March-Phillips. I’ll see you locked away for the rest of your life for this.”

“Gus,” you reach toward him but one of the soldiers holds you back, “let me go!”

“Get your hands off her,” Gus shouts, brushing off the soldiers trying to usher him below deck. “Admiral,” Gus turns towards the man, looking back and forth between the two of you. “Are you able to perform a wedding ceremony?”

“What are you bloody on about March-Phillips?!”

“You said I’m going to be locked away for the rest of my life, right? Well if that’s the case, sir, I’d rather leave my home and all my belongings to someone that needs it. Since I won’t be needing it where I’ll be going, sir.” Gus locks eyes with you, “that is if you’ll have me, darling?”

“Oh Gus,” you shake off the soldier's arm, “yes, a million times yes.”

“This is utter madness,” the Admiral scoffs before turning to his second, “Go to my quarters and get the bible off my bedside.” The man runs off and Gus steps closer, reaching out for your hands.

“One more request sir,” Gus turns, “would our friends be able to attend? I would very much like Captain Appleyard to be my best man.”

“And I’d like Anders Lassen to stand at my side,” you add, turning back to Gus with a smile.

“Very well,” the Admiral says, less than pleased with the whole situation.

In ten minutes the entire crew, your friends, and the Admiral stand at attention as you and Gus say your vows overlooking the Atlantic ocean. Anders stands at your side, holding the makeshift bouquet one of the soldiers fashioned out of knotted rope. “By the power vested in me by the United Kingdom and her Majesty’s Royal Navy, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Gus beams, pulling you close and dipping you into a passionate kiss as the ship explodes into thunderous applause. Anders sobs loudly, Marjorie handing him a handkerchief as he tries to muffle his tears. When Gus rights you, he presses another quick kiss to your lips, “I love you, and I’ll continue to love you for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too,” you cry, wrapping your arms around him, “I’ll be waiting Gus. I’ll wait forever for you to come home to me because my home is you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this happy moment,” one of the soldiers cuts in, “but you need to go back to the brig, sir.” Gus glares him down and he drops his head stepping away as Gus gives you a dozen more kisses before going with the soldier. He holds your gaze till the last second and you can’t help but feel a part of your soul go with him.

The rest of the journey feels endless, knowing the man you love and friends are below you locked in a cage awaiting trial. The men that call this vessel home are kind, bringing you meals and escorting you around the ship for a walk. And when the boat docks a week later you wait after disembarking hoping for a glimpse of your husband.

“Miss,” a man comes up beside you, “I’m Lieutent Fleming, I’ve been instructed to bring you home.”

“I want to wait,” you frown, “I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, they’ve been instructed to wait till you’re gone before unloading the prisoners.”

You glare, “those prisoners, are the most loyal soldiers I’ve ever known. Do you have any idea what they’ve done for this country?!”

His eyes widen, “I assure you, I am well aware of their sacrifice. Please, let me get you home and safe and I’ll explain everything. We have a plan to get them out. Please,” he holds out an arm towards the waiting car. You glance back at the ship one last time before biting your lip to hold back the tears and follow him into the car.

As he drives the tears stream down your face and you try to keep the sob clawing at your throat at bay. “Don’t worry, miss,” Lieutent Fleming assures, “we will get them out.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you whisper, burrowing down into the seat and closing your eyes.

The next six weeks pass in a blur of cleaning, coffee, and meetings with Ian. Lieutenant Fleming kept to his word and he’s been working alongside his boss, the mysterious M to get the boys and Marjorie from the military prison.

The day comes seven weeks and two days since you married Gus. “It’s time,” Ian quickly phones before the car arrives. You lock the door, pocketing the key and getting in.

“Good Morning Ian,” you smile, buckling up, and freezing when you notice it’s not Ian Fleming sitting across from you.

“Expecting someone else, were you?” Winston Churchill smiles across from you and you visibly swallow your mouth going dry. “Mrs. March-Phillips, I presume?” You nod, speechless, and he chuckles pleased, “you may call me Winston.”

“Oh, Mr. Churchill, I could never dream addressing you so informally,” you stumble over your words. “I just want my husband back, sir.”

“I understand,” he nods, putting his cigar back in his mouth and grinding down on one end while he talks. “You’re husband is a hero, and we need more like him. Men who are willing to take orders and give their own spin on them. Less yes sir, and no sir and more thinkers. I wish I had a hundred like him.”

You giggle, “I think theres no one out there quite like Gus.”

“Touche,” he grins, “I understand he’s been quite vocal about allowing visitors. The guards tell me they have a bag of letters for you upon arrival. He writes several daily but with the trial he was unable to send them. Another point he is most vocal about.”

The gate of the prison looms and your eyes widen as the car glides through and around the back out of view near the service entrance. “We can’t have anyone knowing I’m here.” You nod, following behind him as he gets out of the car and puts his hat on his head. A truck pulls up behind you and several soldiers disembark with baskets and silver tray ladden with rich foods. “I have to honor them somehow,” Mr. Churchill gives you a wink before he sets his face in the trademark scowl you’ve seen in the papers.

You follow as he walks down a dark corridor, his cane tapping on the floor almost soothing. “Stay here,” he stops just before the door, “you’ll be my last gift to them.” You pause, almost running around the corner but you know the anticipation is worth it. Mr. Churchills speech leaves tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and you ring your hands together as the soldiers carry in the food spreading it out on the table before them.

“And one last thing,” you perk up when you hear the chairs scrape across the floor as your friends prepare to dig into the feast. “Although this one is for you Captain March-Phillips than the rest of you. Come along, dear,” Mr. Churchill calls and you step around the corner, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

Gus’s eyes nearly bug out as they trail over every inch of you, the tap of the cane fading as the silence grows. His hair has grown out and his facial hair is unkept but he’s still as handsome as ever. “Hello,” you whisper, your hands clenching at your side nervously, “did you miss me?”

Freddy snorts, “Miss you?! God woman that’s all he bloody talks about!” Marjorie slaps him up the back of the head and you laugh before Gus launches himself at you.

“Darling,” he shudders, holding you tight and putting his face in your neck taking deep inhales, “god, I was going mad without you.”

“Can confirm,” Freddy shouts.

“Shut up, you wanker!” Henry hits him in the shoulder, “They haven’t seen each other for seven bloody weeks.”

The room fades away as they quarrel at the table, but you only notice Gus. The feel of his muscle through the prison jumpsuit, the scratch of his facial hair against your skin, the warmth from his mouth pressing kisses to your neck. “Gus,” you whisper, running your hands through his hair as his mouth seeks your own, and he presses a kiss to your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

“Fuck,” he groans, “I missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Home is too quiet without you, and I can’t fucking sleep without you, Gus. I’m not sure I ever want to again.”

“You won’t,” he nuzzles your cheek before closing his eyes and keeping you pressed into his arms, “I won’t ever leave you again, darling.”

“Did you say home?” Henry interrupts, a mouthful of meat pie filling his mouth as he talks between bites.

“Yes,” you nod, “I moved into Gus’s home while he’s been away. Ian Fleming helped me.”

“Ah-ha!” Food splatters across the table as he points at Freddy, “You owe me ten pounds!”

“The bet was, she would go home with him at the end of the mission! He never went home, so actually you owe me ten pounds!”

“You bet on us?” you ask, with a chuckle, Gus leading you over to the table and pulling you into his lap.

“Ja,” Anders nods, “there were several bets actually.”

“And this bet was if I would go home with Gus at the end of the mission?” they both nod digging back into their dinner. “Well then, Henry would win,” Freddy opens to his mouth to argue but you hold up a hand silencing him. You take the fork out of Gus’s hand feeding him bites of pie as he leans against your chest with his eyes closed, a smile stretched against his face. “Because as soon as you completed I went home with Gus. Maybe not physically but I’m his wife and he’s my husband and wherever I go he’s in my heart and I his.”

“That’s not how it works,” Freddy pouts.

“Don’t bet on me then, if you don’t like the outcome,” Gus laughs opening his eyes and pulling you down for a kiss.

His eyes are warm as he rubs his hand against your cheek, his friends laughing and teasing one another surrounded by good food. All's right with the world and in an hour they’ll be free. Gus pulls you in for another kiss his lips lingering a second longer as he whispers against your lips, a smile splitting his face, “that’s my girl.”

Requests are open. Got another idea for this fandom? Send them my way! Thanks for reading!

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

My Home Is You Part 2/3

A/N: Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting. And @jellybeanstacey0519 & @mrsyixingunicorn10 for asking about a taglist and commenting on the last part.

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part One Part Three

“So are you two fucking?” Freddy sits across from you, pointing between you and Gus. 

“Freddy!” Gus shouts, outraged as you spit tea across the table, staining the map. 

“What?! It’s a valid question!” Freddy grins, crossing his arms over his chest. You cough, trying to catch your breath while Gus pats your back trying to clear your airway. “It’s a small boat,” he continues, despite the incredulous looks from both you and Gus. “And it’s obvious you’re sleeping together, but what I want to know is if you’re fucking?” 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Henry shakes his head and quickly grabs the back of Freddys coat to drag him up the stairs to the deck, his vocal protests growing quiet at he moves further away. 

“Here,” you glance up and see Appleyard holding out a glass of water, “Freddy doesn’t have a filter.” 

“It’s alright,” you sip slowly at the water, “he’s right, it is a small boat.” You glance at Gus, “filled with intelligent men that are bound to notice I’ve been sleeping in bed with you since the day I arrived.” 

“But just sleeping,” Gus brushes a finger over your cheek, before a grin spreads across his cheeks like a cheshire cat. “I’m a lady, and I will not have my virtue questioned,” he holds a hand to his chest in fake modesty, “it’s a struggle, Apple, day and night I have to keep this daring rogue off me.” 

“Me?” you ask, faking outrage, “virtue my ass,” you reach a hand out to Apple, “the lady doth protests but everytime I have her moaning into the pillow that protest falls on deaf ears.” Apple looks between you both with a grin shaking his head and rolling his eyes before you both fall into each other with laughter. 

“I think you might have met your match,” Apple crosses his arms over his chest, “and a part of me is alarmed as well as pleased.” 

“BOSS!” Henry shouts from above, and you rush to the deck, “it’s a British destroyer,” he points off through the fog. 

“Do you think they’ve spotted us?” you ask, eyes going wide, “can we hide in the fog?” 

“I can’t outrun that, darlin’,” Freddy frowns. 

“And if we’ve seen them,” Gus lowers the spyglass, “they’ve surely seen us.” 

“What do we do?” you stand beside him and he tugs off his coat, putting it around your shivering shoulders before placing his arm around your waist. 

“Well,” he looks around at the other men, “we play the part. We are swedish fisherman, let’s be swedish fisherman.” 

The boys work like a well-oiled machine as they quickly remove any guns, explosives, or otherwise unsavory items below deck and hide them away. The destroyer looms closer and the sway of the waves does nothing to quell the unease in your belly. “Time to move, Little Lamb,” Anders, holds his hand out for you and you grab it, sliding your hands into the sleeves of Gus’s coat as he lowers you below deck and hides you away. “Stay put,” he smiles softly, “everything will be okay.” 

Gus comes down the stairs, pressing a hand to Anders's shoulder as he moves past him back up to the deck. “You all settled then?” Gus asks, coming to stand before you, you nod silently, “good,” he looks around, “good. We’re going to be fine. I promised you remember?” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he grabs your arm, tugging you closer before lowering his mouth to your ear, his mustache scratches against your cheek and his breath hot against your neck leaves you trembling. 

His voice is low, deep, and etched with promise, “I don’t,” he whispers pressing his lips to your neck for a moment before quickly retreating up the stairs. You fall back against the wall, your breath coming out hard and fast as you quickly pull the wall shut, disappearing from view. The skin of your neck burns like a brand from his kiss, and you press your palm to it and close your eyes remembering every moment like a cinema reel. 

The waves kick up as the ship moves alongside the small fishing vessel and you can hear snippets of the conversation. Your blood churning cold when Gus replies using his normal voice, not the accent he’d been practicing moments before. Suddenly you hear your name shouted from above and push the wall back, running up the stairs, “What’s happening?!” 

“Help Freddy with the sail,” Henry shouts, everyone moving as quickly as possible, “we need to get the hell out of here.” 

You don’t question, doing everything you can to get the boat moving. Finally, everyone but Henry stops, watching the destroyer set off bombs into the water. “U-boat,” Gus replies, coming to stand beside you, holding onto your waist as the ship rocks from the tumultuous waves. The sea becomes quiet, nothing but the whip of the wind as you move further and further away. “Bullseye,” Gus whispers, “I think they got him.” 

“But let’s keep going Hayzy,” Freddy shouts, “don’t want to take any chances.” 

The rest of the day passes in silence as you all take in the close call. And as night descends and dinner passes no one says a word when Gus climbs into his bunk behind you, pulling you close to his chest, hearing him hum a sweet song in your ear as you drift off to another nightmareless sleep. 

The next few days pass without incident as you move closer and closer to the target. Each of the boys has taken to passing the time by teaching you what they do best; Freddy spending hours giving you the ins and outs of explosives, Henry teaching you everything you need to know to man the boat if need be, Apple pouring over maps and documents while discussing strategy, and Lassen, the Danish Hammer, teaching you hand to hand combat so you never have to become a victim again. 

“You’ve been busy,” Gus sits down beside you, handing you his water, as you catch your breath from Anders newest lesson; how to breakout of a chokehold. 

“I like it,” you smile, water splashing down your chin, “I feel like I can take on the world.” 

He grins, brushing the water off your chin with his thumb before putting it in his mouth. Your mouth goes dry as he licks his lips with a wide smile. “Not fair,” you stick your tongue out at him, and he lets out a booming laugh, similar to the first time you heard him back at the Garrison. 

“Do you think it’s been easy for me?” he teases, “seeing Lassen’s hands all over you.” His eyes darken, “maybe I should take over the lessons?” 

“No,” you shake your head, “then I would learn nothing.” 

He scoffs, “I happen to be an excellent teacher.” 

“I’m sure,” you replace the top of the water, handing it back to him and standing. You stretch, reaching your hands over your head, his eyes widening as he takes in the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and pants you borrowed from the boys. You grin, leaning over him and putting a hand on his shoulder before whispering in his ear, “I’ve been sleeping with you for ten days, Gus, and I know for a fact you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

You pull back with a grin and his mouth gaps open and closed like a fish before he grins, “tease. I’m a good girl.” Gus stays there watching through the rest of the lesson, encouraging and giving feedback. It’s a unique feeling to be around men that not only respect you but also encourage you to fight and learn when it seems the rest of society want to see you as a housewife with a home full of children and a hot meal on the table. 

“Alright, Lassen, you’ve hogged her attention for long enough,” Gus stands brushing off his pants. 

“Me?” Anders laughs, “I think you should look in the mirror my friend, see who is really hogging all of her attention.” 

Gus ignores him holding out a hand for you, “come along, darling, it’s time you learn how to shoot.” You take his hand and he leads you to the front of the boat where he’s arranged a variety of weapons. 

“Now what is your experience with guns?” Gus asks, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. 

“Well,” you sigh, “I did end up a prison in a Nazi garrison, so the experience has been less than good. 

His smile drops and he nods before turning back to the table and lifting a simple handgun. “Okay, we start small,” he lifts the gun, “this is a colt .45, small but deadly, it can be easily concealed. To fire, you remove the safety, set your stance, aim, and fire.” 

“Sounds simple enough,” you nod, reaching a hand out for the gun. “First thing, how do I remove the safety?” He spends the next 15 minutes going every minute detail about the weapon until you feel confident you could repeat it back to him. 

“Now, stance is very important when learning how to shoot. Because weapons kick back, and if you’re not standing correctly it will knock you on your butt.” He moves behind you, placing his hands on your hips, and raising them the sides of your body and out towards your arm. His mustache tickles your cheek, and he relaxes against you. “Now, steady on the target,” he gestures to the bottle sitting on the edge of the boat, “take a deep breath.” His body moves with your own, each of you taking a deep breath before he whispers in your ear, “Fire.” 

The gun kicks back and he holds you steady, the bottle blasting into pieces and shattering into the sea. “Bullseye,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he lowers the gun and replaces it on the table, his body still pressed to yours. “That’s my girl,” he turns you slowly, your eyes rising to meet his. 

He’s close, his lips but a breath away, “Gus,” you whisper, “I…I want.”

“What do you want, darling? Say the word and it’s yours,” he smiles softly, his thumbs tracing patterns on your hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to your cheek, then the other before hovering over your lips, “Tell me, darling. What do you want?”

Your heart thunders in your chest, so loud you’re sure he can hear it. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife and you can feel the slick between your legs, anticipation for his kiss, his touch building till it’s a raging inferno inside. “I want-” 

“BOSS! An urgent message on the wireless!” Freddy shouts and you can’t help the word that slips out of your lips. 

“Fuck!” Gus lets out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead before quickly turning towards the stairs. 

“Don’t worry darling,” he tosses over his shoulder, “we will continue this conversation later.” 

You stand there for a moment composing yourself, the sea doing little to quench the heat from his touch. Never in a million years did you think you’d crave a mans touch like this especially after what happened in that camp. There is a deep seated fear that that experience would tarnish every future encounter, but with Gus, it’s so easy. Everytime he touches you it’s like all the bad fades away, and all that’s left is him. 

“I need to get my damn head on straight,” you whisper to the wind before turning to follow him below deck. The boys are standing around the wireless, clenched jaws all around. “What happened?” you ask coming to stand beside Gus and see the message on the notepad. “What does this all mean? Tin of corned beef?” 

“It’s code,” he mumbles, wiping a hand on his face, “it means they moved up the sailing date by three days and the port is now filled with more soldiers than any of us were anticipating. Hayzy,” he looks up at the boy, “can you get us there in 12 days?” 

“Not the way we’re going,” he shakes his head, “we’ll need to cut through German occupied sea, otherwise we’ll never make it in time.” 

“Do what you must,” Gus nods, watching as he retreats upstairs to change course. “Heron says he has a contact who might be able to give us some backup. We need more men if we’re going to live through this.” 

“Even then,” Apple sits down across from him, “we can’t take on an entire army.” 

“Trust Heron,” Gus leans back in his chair, “he gave us coordinates to meet him. We will make our way there and see what he has to say. This mission,” he licks his lips, “is vital to the British. If we fail, then Britain will fall to German occupation.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Apple asks with a groan. 

“I’m saying Gentlemen, and Lady,” he nods his head at you, “failure is not an option.” 

The boys sit there in silence processing the news before returning to their duties. Gus sits in his chair, his shoulders slumped like they weigh a hundred pounds each. “What can I do?” you stand behind him, massaging his shoulders. He moans, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into your waist. 

“I don’t know if we’ll survive this, darling,” he says the words quietly so only you can hear. His voice is heavy with the pressure. “The odds are stacked against us and I’m not a gambling man but if I was, I’m not sure I would bet on us.” 

“Don’t say that,” you push his arms out of the way and sit in his lap, his eyes snapping open as he wraps you in his arms and into his chest. “I saw the way you took down that Garrison,” you wrap your arms around his neck and rub the hair at the nape of his neck. “There is not a team alive like yours. If anyone can do this, it’s you.” 

“You put too much faith in me, darling,” he says with a sad smile.

“And you don’t put enough.” His forehead presses to your own and you cradle him to your chest, running your fingers through his hair. “You have to come back alive, Gus. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“You’d move on,” he mumbles into your chest, “you’re beautiful, smart, and sharp as a whip. Men would be falling over their feet to marry you.” 

“Well that’s just too damn bad!” he lifts his head at your outburst, you hold onto either side of his face, and smile, “because all I want is you. All I need is you, Gus March-Phillips.” 

It’s like two magnets, colliding together, his lips press to yours with a hunger deep inside. His lips are warm and soft and you feel his tongue seek out your own as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like tea and those ginger biscuits he loves so much and you feel yourself getting drunk on the taste of him. “Shit,” he pulls back with a groan, pressing his forehead to your own, “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

“Like what?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious. 

He pulls back with a smile, “Perfection.” 

The next twelve days pass in a blur. Each day is filled with training, preparation, and endless amounts of kisses. The boys tease every time you sit down for a meal and Gus pulls you into his lap and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t fuck in my bed,” Freddy shouts one night over a meal and you kick him under the table, feeling Gus chuckle behind you. “Ouch! What the hell?! Some damsel in distress she turned out to be!” 

“Anders has been teaching me to fight,” you spit back, “I could easily kick your ass.” 

“My little lamb has become a tiger!” Anders shouts gleefully. 

“She sure is,” Gus remarks with pride, “that’s my girl.” You lean back in his arms as the others playfully spit out insults back and forth like brothers. Gus joins in occasionally and makes you laugh so hard your belly aches. 

“All joking aside,” Apple wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes, “we arrive at the coordinates tomorrow. Heron should be there with his contact.” 

“He’ll be there,” Gus nods, looking at the men around the room. “We have a big day ahead of us men, let’s get some sleep. Apple, you take first watch.” 

“Yes, boss,” he nods, going up the stairs.

“Come on, love,” Gus moves you to stand and drags you over to his bunk. The others quietly moving around the room and cleaning up from dinner. He tucks you into his bunk before placing a quick kiss to your lips, “I’m not tired, I’m going to sit up with Apple. I’ll be back later.” 

“Okay,” you tug him down for another kiss, “don’t stay up to late.” 

“I haven’t married you yet and you’re already nagging me,” he teases pressing another kiss to your lips, “I promise I’ll be back soon.” 

You watch his back retreat up the stairs, closing your eyes and snuggling down into his sheets. Suddenly your eyes pop open and you gasp, he said yet.

[littlefreya]

Before the Storm

Summary: Gus finds way to keep you warm as you both sail on his boat during April.

Pairing: Major Gustav (Gus) Phillips x Reader (no description)

Word count: 2K

Warnings: 18+, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex (woman receiving), a bit of fingering, teasing, a sweater, a pinch of angst.

A/N: Gus is a character we know nothing about only that he is an unhinged gentleman (?) so I just went with what I felt and oh I hope others will enjoy :). Many thanks to the lovely @captainsy-cookiemonster and @agniavateira for beta and emotional support.

Please reblog with comments if you enjoyed 🖤

Before the Storm

Gus. Gustav. Gustavus. 

Such a timid name for a man who was wilder than the seas he sailed. When you first met Gus, you thought that he was the ocean itself; Untamable, unpredictable, a maelstrom of a man. Little did you know, you were wrong about him; if Gus was anything, it must have been the god of the sea. 

The only thing he was missing was a golden trident. 

Resting on the deck of his yacht with a small plate of local sweets and a book by your side, you watched him through a veiled gaze. The tall man stood at the bow, preparing the boat for the evening sail. You knew very little about nautical travel, but you always enjoyed watching him work on his boat.

Liberats - he called her - the only place he thought of as home. 

His large chocolate curls swayed gently in the afternoon breeze, thin threads of sliver-grey rimming each ringlet, though as the April sun began to set, those fine curls were kissed by vivid hues of purple, orange and pink.  

A deep frown line creased his forehead as he held onto the mast. You entertained yourself at the notion that he had the same exact look when he was hovering and grunting above you. Lightly snorting at the thought, you reached for the plate and grabbed a sweet while continuing to stare. 

“Like what you see?” Gus asked without looking away from the mast. His thick English accent rang through your ears in a melodious tone. He had a way of making everything sound either like poetry or sex.

You ogled him gingerly. In complete contrast to you, who lay in undergarments, Gus donned a chunky grey sweater and dark work trousers. You hated that. It hid what you knew was underneath it. The body of a god. 

“Hmm…” you stretched,  “I haven’t seen enough to decide.”

A slanted smirk tugged his cheek, and he threw a side gaze at you, but his smile fell as he noticed the little shiver in your arms. You weren’t exactly dressed for the season, in fact, you weren’t even dressed for a cruise, but for the time being, simple pair panties and bra sufficed. 

Until they didn’t. 

Not saying another word, he let go of the mast and sauntered toward you, mumbling, “oh, darling,” while already slipping the heavy sweater off. Abs and pecs that might as well have been crafted by a master sculptor glistened in the waning sun. Tanned and sweaty, his skin was like honey. Busy appreciating the view, you didn’t notice the lumpy grey thing that headed toward you at the speed of light until it smacked you in the face.

“Gaws!” Your words were muffled by the sweater that covered your entire head. 

Annoyed, you tugged it away, one brow arched with ire, but your expression softened as Gus’ scent poured upon you; seafoam, salt - fresh and untamed - you inhaled it, inhaled him. 

Unable to resist the urge to be enveloped by his presence, you pulled the sweater on and sighed at the comfort it brought, your fingers clutched onto the collar to hold it closer to your nose and with a deep breath, you took him in. For a moment, you felt yourself slipping into delirium, but then the warm shadow that loomed over your face dragged you back to reality. 

Gus stood over, the breadth of him blocking the sun. Head tilted down, arms crossed together, he observed the treat before him, a crafty grin playing on his lips. 

“Looks better on you than on me.” Hand reached up to his moustache, he twirled its edge between his index and his thumb. “I sure like what I see.” 

You smiled sweetly, your bare legs stretching forward in an invitation. “Too bad this sweater doesn’t cover all of me…” 

His marine-blue gaze followed instantly, a flicker of excitement igniting within them. “Cara Mia, need me to keep you warm?” 

Gus was the type of man who never needed a special invitation. Nor did he ever waited for an answer. Simply, because he always got what we wanted. Gently, he sank to his knees before your feet, and reached for your ankles. His hands were roughed by manning the ropes of the boat and things you didn’t wish to think of, yet his touch was as tender as the caress of a wave as he ran his hands up and down the length of your legs.

“Smooth,” he murmured, “it always stuns me how soft women are.”

Half chuckling, half moaning, you laid back onto the deck, casually reaching for the bowl of sweets and grabbing a piece. Gus’ glare darted at you, watching you nibble while the coarse pads of his fingers glided below your knees, his touch sent a stream of shivers that coursed through your skin, making you tremble in his grip. 

It took every drop of strength to remain composed and not give yourself entirely, you were always afraid of him having too much power over you, and Gus knew that and knew just how to bend you - figuratively and literally. 

His palms smoothed higher with each stroke, kneading your thighs, fingertips reaching close to your heat yet not close enough. Every wave of his touch only left you more frustrated. Wetness pooled at your core, the unmistakable bloom within calling for him in yearning, like a flower opening, awaiting to be seeded, yet he took his time. 

“Still cold?” Gus provoked at how wildly you quivered. 

Lips pressed into a thin line, you swallowed a moan and shook your head, clutching onto the sweater as if it served any protection, but all hell broke loose as, without any warning, he pressed his thumb against the wet fabric of your underwear.

“Fuck!”

“Such a dirty mouth.” 

Giving into a shuddering yip, you pushed your pelvis forward, trying to grind into his thumb, only that he pulled back. 

“Gus! Stop this!!!”

“Stop?” His eyes flared comically. “I thought you were enjoying this…”

Ready to throw the book at his stupid face, you frowned, which caused Gus to chuckle before he hooked a finger below the strap of your underwear. “Now…” his voice dropped, and his eyes darkened as if touched by a storm cloud.  “Are you going to say it?”

Already at wit's end, you pouted and let out a breathy, “please...”

He tugged on the strap a little, sliding the garment to the mid of your hips, yet not enough to expose you. “Please, what? Cara Mia?”  

“Please, fuck me.” 

Triumph burnt on his face. Overjoyed that once again he managed to break you, he paused, eyes gliding at every inch of your body while his fangs grazed over his bottom lip. The way he stared at you, you could have sworn that you could feel his touch wherever his gaze landed; your mouth, your breasts, your nipples, the base your belly - he was everywhere, but you needed more. You needed him inside you.  

“No.” 

“No?!” Your cry could be heard across the 7 seas. “What do you mean ‘no’!?” 

“You had your candy, I think I’ll have mine.”

Without any other delay, he yanked on your underwear and threw them over his shoulders. Exposed to the open air, you breathed a shuddering gasp. The chill ocean-breeze blew upon your slit, further storming the tidal-like spasms that swept over you. Still, it was nothing in comparison to the storm that Gus was about to bestow upon you. 

The bearded Adonis looked ethereal as he crawled between your thighs, his curls and brazen bristle tickled your skin. His broad, muscular shoulders flexed in a predatory motion, and his face wore a dark, preying shade to match. Brows knit together, jaw clenched, his fingers dug into your ass, and with a guttural groan, he lowered his head to the valley of your thighs and granted you the sinful kiss of Poseidon. 

Slow, yet not lazy, his mouth drew a languid course between the little pearl above your cove to your inner thighs as if testing the water before plunging in. The touch of his hot lips and coarse bristle was enough to elicit the most desperate yelps from you, and like a siren washed up on the shore, you writhed for your god, begging for salvation.

It wasn’t as if Gus didn’t know every inch of your body, yet still, he revelled at the different cries that escaped you as his mouth marked different parts of your flesh, almost as if it was a game to him, as if you were a toy he examined and coaxed to his whims until you were completely broken and at his mercy. It was only then when you were bent and vulnerable, that’s he would tear you completely apart.

With his breath hot on your flesh, he hummed against your clit. Legs quaking, you prepared yourself for yet another tender kiss, only that instead, you felt the wet glide of his tongue teasing your flesh. Once, then twice, his velvety serpent stroked and twirled. The third time he wrapped his lips around the tender nub and suckled with every ounce of love he felt toward you. 

Inarticulate sounds followed from your throat, your toes curled as the spasming jolts of ecstasy flowed all across your body. He brought you near impulsion, but he wasn’t done playing with you just yet. Grunting, he slipped the edge of his tongue between your swollen petals, pressing just enough to provoke you, yet not enough to bring you undone. 

You wanted to scream his name but found that you had no words. Instead, you heaved and cried breathlessly, your head pressing to the wooden deck beneath you, eyes wide open, staring at the seagulls floating in the air. In the open ocean, everyone could see you. Everyone and no one. You were one with the gods and the sea creatures and you sure as hell writhed as if you were drowning on dry land. 

Appeased by your helplessness, Gus locked his strong arms around your thighs, holding you spread open and in place as he finally dove his tongue inside you. 

“Fuck!” Your back arched against the surface. Tears of joy brimmed in your eyes as Gus fucked you ardently with his tongue. Over and over, he plunged into your cove, groaning and savouring the dew that dripped from it as if it was a feast. 

As greedy as they come, he wanted to devour you; there wasn’t a single patch of skin he hadn’t laved, kissed or suckled. Even while his tongue wreaked havoc on your clenching cunt, his mouth continued to suckle upon your swollen lips with little hums of delight that vibrated through you. 

It wasn’t fair. He brought you on the verge of pleasure on despair. You felt the storm within you rage; violent waves of pleasure gushed and surged, begging to be unleashed. Knowing your body so well, Gus wrapped one sturdy arm around your belly, held your mound to his hungry mouth, and finally, took his fingers and buried them deep inside you to force you into ecstasy. 

Climax shattered through you in several electric currents that continued to hit. Each one stronger than the other  Still convulsing in ecstasy, you lifted your eyes to Gus.  The last rays of sunlight glazed around him in a golden aura. For a moment there, you imagined him as the lord of the ocean, who, in his fury, pierced his trident at the ocean’s bed and split it apart. 

Split you apart.

Spent, you fell back to the deck with a deep sigh, your eyes gazing aimlessly at the evening sky while you snuggled Gus’ sweater around you. The moon had already risen, surrounded by a shy group of gleaming stars resembling precious pearls embroidered on a blue dress. Memories of childhood sprang to mind; summer days in the sun, when you floated carless over the waves. 

“Are you alright?” Gus moved to lie beside you. His knuckles brushed your cheek in a tender caress.

You nodded weakly, your breath still hitched from the intensity of the pleasure he wrought from you. 

“Speak, Cara Mia,” Gus asked gently and, with a small pinch around your chin, brought you to stare at him. "I need to hear you say it."

Quiet, you stared back, your lower lip parted, but no words came as you studied his face. The little wrinkles around his eyes and the silver tainted his beard made him look somehow pure. So pure, it broke your heart to think that once you dock again, you will have to take off the masks and costumes you wore and be who you really were - soldiers fighting to liberate the world and Gus, as spirited and wild as he was, would never be free, never be able to fully commit to anyone other than his cause.

Still, you loved him.

Enough to follow him into hell. 

[hencvl]

Gus March-Philips Masterlist.

Ongoing series.

> His Little Nymph. - where a marine who retired and become a sailor found a woman who almost drowned when she was surfing. he rescued her, and his love for her started to blossom ever since.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Oh my dear me...this is so good.

I absolutely adore Lizette and I loathe how much I love August. He's such a good pirate. And hi Gus!!! *tips hat*

I promise I will wait patiently for the next installment. But just know, my mind will be haunted by story for many nights to come.

Just like I like it lol.

Neptune's Snare

Summary: She came to take revenge on the loathsome man who murdered her fiance, only to become his captive.

Read Chapter One

Pairing: AU!Pirate August Walker x Virgin OFC (for now 😏)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Sexual themes, dark themes mentioned, historical inaccuracies, kidnapping, captivity, graphic descriptions of sex, intimidation, slow burn, sexual tension, foul language.

A/N: I was unsure whether I should do part 2, but @deandoesthingstome (💖) motivated me to do it, so I truely hope you will like it. Many thanks to @agniavateira, for beta'ing. I am no longer using my old tag list, but I will tag those who specifically asked to be tagged for this story via my new Writing Update Blog @littlefreyaslibrary.

Thanks for reading, and please reblog with a comment 🖤

Chapter Two

Hours had passed since the Captain left—hours of futile attempts to escape the cruelty of the heavy iron binds. By now, the ship was deep into the ocean, miles away from any harbour or piece of land. The notion that she’d been abducted by the most ruthless murderer known to authorities had only just begun to sink. 

As hot tears stung at her cheeks, Lizette couldn’t help but chuckle at the stupidity that led her to this fate.

‘Did you really think that a foolish girl could succeed where great men had failed?’ 

If Lizette had dared be honest, she would admit she never thought that plan through, not that it mattered much anymore. Soon enough, she would be yet another shiny trinket in Blackbeard’s gaudy collection.

Exhausted from a fierce yet futile battle, she leaned her head back against the plush, gold-paneled wall. Her weary gaze drifted through the open window, where the dark skies and black seas merged into a desolate void. No light shone through tonight; the darkness has devoured the stars and the moon. Lizette felt as if she was drowning in it too, sinking into a thick, tar-like liquid. With each breath, the collar around her throat grew heavier, the iron pressing into her skin and dragging her deeper and deeper until everything faded to black.

When she blinked again, it was still night but the cabin was lit in deep shades of honey and amber. Her heart skipped—once for the iron still hanging from her neck and twice as her bleary eyes caught sight of a shadow by the edge of the big table.  

It appeared that her host had returned. 

Boots flung across the food-abundant table, the Captain sat back in his royal velvet chair. One hand cradled a silver chalice whilst the other toyed with the edge of his thick whiskers. Silver trays of food, wine, and books were splayed before him, surrounded by dozens of fat, wax-dripping candles. The flickering flame guttered upon his eyes, painting them bright red while he observed the girl intently. 

The curiosity was mutual, at least to some extent. As loathsome as the pirate was, Lizette could not help but scrutinise. Never in her life did she see a man so crude and yet so regal at the same time, He looked like a washed-out king, holding himself to a higher status amongst the scum aboard his ship. Surrounding himself with fine art, books and scientific obscurities, one would assume that this low-life man was educated, or at least aspired to be. His appearance, too, was of some sort of false elegance,  with his moustache carefully groomed and his hair neatly combed save for an errant curl that fell upon his tanned forehead. However, the white cotton shirt that hung partially unbuttoned and loose from his shoulders exposed him for what he truly was as it revealed a myriad of tattoos, scars, and coarse hair. 

‘Nothing but a filthy scoundrel.’

“At last, sleeping beauty is awake.” 

Lizette kept her tongue knotted. The blazes on her stare answered on her behalf. 

August scoffed at the silent response. ‘Precious little thing,’ Had only she known how much he enjoyed obstinate women. The only thing that was better than bending a spitfire to his will was getting a nun to kneel before his cock.

A slight twitch tugged at his cheek; his smirk widening at the fond memory.  

‘Ah, Mary… you sure pray hard.’

Letting go of his whiskers and the chalice in his grasp, the Captain reached for a loaf of bread and split it in half. Steam rose and coiled to the air.  The scrumptious scent of the freshly baked goods quickly filled the room and wafted over Lizette in a tempting invitation. Absentminded, she suckled her bottom lip, almost able to taste the sweetness on her tongue. 

The pirate held out one piece of the loaf, an unmistakably provoking grin lighting his face. “Would you dine with me, pet?”

Weakness unfurled through her, reminding Lizette that it must have been hours, if not an entire day, since she last ate. Her empty belly flipped and gurgled so loudly that the pirate could hear it even from where he sat. Joy immediately cascaded about his glance; the impish grin between his cheeks further stretched. 

To his delightful surprise, the girl was a lot more stubborn than she appeared. Instead of begging, she offered a spiteful glare and turned her face away. 

“I’d rather starve!” 

“Suit yourself.” The Captain shrugged and bit on one of the pieces. Hums and moans sputtered from his mouth, all exaggerated to taunt his brazen prisoner. As he finished chewing, he sucked on each of his inked fingers. 

“Got a name, pet?”

“What matter is that to you?” The girl spat.

August shrugged again and returned to the chalice, dragging it on the table's surface in circular motions. A deep-red whirlpool briefly formed in his drink. He stared at it indifferently as he retorted, “Matters not, pet. But since you’ll be spending some time here in my quarters, I will require a moniker to approach you by. Question is, would you rather I choose a name for you myself? It won’t be a nice one. I can promise you that.” 

Keeping her eyes averted, the girl folded her knees and hugged them, a deep sigh sinking from her. She couldn’t even bring herself to imagine the horrendous name he would choose.

“My name is Lizette.” 

A touch of dark delight kissed his face—as if he had heard the enchanting hymn of a siren. Thoughtful, he stopped stirring his drink to the sound of her name, licked his lips, lifted the chalice and pressed it to his lips. “Ah, yes, you are definitely a Lizzy.” 

“It’s Lizette!” she vehemently corrected.  

“Oh!” The pirate abruptly twirled his free hand in the air, his brows lifting in a sardonically submissive gesture. “Forgiveness! Mercy, milady!” That had earned him the attention he was hoping to receive, as finally, Lizette snapped to glare at him. 

The pure ire on her face did nothing but feed his amusement. 

With a slanted grin and his thumb brushing his whiskers, he eyed her back. It’s been a while since a girl piqued his fascination, and this one was indeed something else. Fear seeped from her like dewy nectar from a ripe fruit. The sheen of sweat clinging to her skin and the throbbing at the crook of her neck gave away her true emotions. Yet, she exuded the unyielding fury of a harpy, the shackles around her throat barely deterring her brazen spirit.. 

‘Bold little thing. As ferocious as the ship’s cat…’ August thought and then frowned, ‘Where is that ungodly creature, anyway? Haven’t seen it in a while.’ 

“Lady Lizette…” the correct moniker rolled smoothly on his tongue in an inherently sinister sweetness. “Are you always such a rude guest to your hosts?”

“Guest?!” Lizette seized the chain that held her collar to the wall and lifted it in front of him—a deep frown decorating her weary face.  

“I am not a guest! I am a prisoner!”

“Ah! Ah!” The pirate lifted his inked index finger in an unbearably pretentious manner. "It was you who came aboard my ship willingly, and let us not forget—uninvited.” 

Lizette felt a chill in her chest, the same chill she always sensed when getting an answer wrong in her Latin lessons. He was right, and there was more to it. Pirate or not, doesn't every man deserve respect in his own home? 

That notion made her cheeks hot. 

“And if I may…“ the pirate drawled huskily and shifted into his seat. Lizette’s eyes followed his movement with the wariness of a skittish cat. Initially bemused, she realised his hand had snaked below the table and was now fumbling with his waistband. 

A deep, pulsating pang bloomed in her core as the primordial anxiety every maiden is doomed to suffer from awoke within her. Alarmed, she shook her head and blurted hoarsely, “Wait!” 

The pirate paid her no mind; either he didn’t hear or didn’t care. Then, his hand sprang back sharply with a pistol in his grip—the same one he had confiscated from her merely a few hours before. 

“Did you not attempt to murder me in my own home?” 

With those words, he slammed the pistol on the table, the dull thud booming through the cabin wall and causing Lizette to jump with a start.

Sinking back to his red regal chair, August crossed his fingers together and pressed his lips together with the contempt of an authority figure. The many golden trinkets around his fingers chimed as they collided. 

“Answer me, Pet.” 

Lizette regarded the pistol carefully. The golden floral embellishments upon the handle sparked with the candle's light.  For a fleeting moment, she wondered how fast she needed to be to grab the pistol and shoot him dead in his rotten heart. Instead, she simply nodded, much as she could with the heavy collar around her neck. The spots where the sharp edges grazed her flesh burnt as sweat dripped over the bruised skin.

“Dumb as your plan was, I do appreciate the gesture, las. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to murder me, but it’s definitely the first time it was a beautiful young lady. Was all of this because of a boy?” He challenged, crooking one eyebrow. 

This time, Lizette did not hesitate to answer. 

“You robbed me of my future!” She corrected, and though she tried to maintain a fierce demeanour, the quiver in her voice gave away the rageful grief. 

Sympathy, sadly, was not in August’s books, especially not whilst being distracted by the way her breasts pressed against the confines of the corset with every fervorous breath. A small, almost inaudible groan left his lips. He wondered if she, indeed, was a virgin. Did he deny her of her wedding night? Were these lovely tits ever in the hands of a man before? 

Surely, he would find out. One way or another. 

With a glare still fixed on her cleavage, he grazed his dimpled chin and simply shrugged. 

“Pirate.” 

Lizette hissed in response. Defiant, she snapped her arms across her chest to hide her cleavage. 

‘Pig.’

“So I robbed you of your future,” August continued, mimicking quotation marks with his long, inked fingers. “And thus, you thought you should rob me of mine?” 

“And what future would that be? Murdering and whoring?” she muttered hatefully.  

The pirate swatted a hand over his chest, giving her a fake, exaggerated pout. “Now that pains me, love.” 

Lizette could sense the blood seeth beneath her skin. She was used to men belittling her, but never did she experience such sheer mockery and humiliation. Trembling, she yelled back, “Good! I wish you nothing but pain!”

“And so she continues to insult me in my own home.” August clicked his tongue and shook his head with sardonic disappointment. “You highborn ladies sure lack respect. ‘Funny thing is, no matter how uppity women like you act, they all want the same thing…” his voice slurred and deepened, coaxing a baffled look from the maiden who abruptly forgot her wrath and ate the bait. 

“And what would that be?” 

The pirate stood and calmly paced to the fore of the table, where he leaned against the edge to peer down at his prisoner. Lizette remained guarded. he was fairly far away yet close enough for his shadow to fall upon her face and for his manhood to be situated at the level of her mouth. She struggled to avoid staring at it directly, which only made that wretched smug smile light his face again.

“What you ladies truly want is to be violated by none other but us ‘lowlife scoundrels’,” August nibbled his bottom lip, a dry chuckle escaping him as more fond memories came to mind. “Truly, the lots of you are bored by the castrated virility of the poised gentlemen. All you fantasise about is to be fucked dirty like a whore by a brute who has no sense of propriety.” 

The pirate held his fist before him and mimicked a slow pumping motion. Although Lizette did not quite understand it, his words alone were enough to leave her gravely unsettled. 

“You are an animal,” she snarled, not realising that her nails were biting into her forearms as she clutched herself so protectively. 

But that merely fueled him.    

“Tell me, Pet, did your boy satisfy those dark desires before he left a delicious bonny lass like yourself all alone? Did he split open and plundered your sweet little cunt, ass, and mouth, or did he leave you wet and miserable?”

Heat crawled at Lizette’s cheeks, yet she wasn’t sure whether it was from outrage or shame. Never in her life had she even considered the possibilities he had suggested, and now those horrifying images poisoned her mind.  

Amused by her obvious mortification, the pirate tilted his head impishly. “No? Not even a finger or a tongue?”

“Stop it!” She implored, her voice cracking.

Ignoring her plea, he clicked his tongue. “Aw, sweet, tender flower. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He left you all alone and uncharted—that lonesome seal, begging to be invaded. Well, milady, you didn’t have to threaten me with a pistol in that case. All you had to do was ask.” 

The pirate reached for his bulge and squeezed it, much to Lizette’s dismay.

”Trust me, one night with me, and you’d forget you ever loved him.”

That was enough to send Lizette over the edge. Not thinking twice, she jerked to her feet, the chains around her rattling along a furious onslaught that sputtered from her mouth. 

“Love?! What do you know about love? You are a monster! All you do is kill and rape! You are incapable of love, and I’d be damned if anyone could ever love you!” 

All the candles in the cabin flickered with a sudden gust of wind as the pirate suddenly lunged forward. He moved so fast, too fast. Lizette hadn’t even had the chance to sway from his touch, and already he was upon her. Crude fingers dug deep into the hollows of her cheek, forcing her to face his terrorising stare. 

“You think this is a game? You think you know anything about me, little girl? About what I’ve done!?” 

It was not a question to be answered, and even so, Lizette couldn’t bring herself to speak; she was suffocating, drowning on the surface. All around her, the air stood dense with the scent of iron, wine, and musky sweat, whilst the weight of his body crushed as it clung to her. 

Closer, deeper. Layers upon layers of silk and wool separated their skin from one another, and still, she sensed the curve and firmness of his robust figure. The woven map of muscles that adorned his torso and the flex each muscle made as he tensed were evident 

But none of this came close to what she saw as he forced her to look into his eyesa wrathful maelstrom pregnant with sinister urges beyond her darkest fears. It felt as if it was trying to draw her into a deep sense of anger, and grief submerged her.

Dread began to spill into her veins. He was going to kill her.

Lizette sucked in a deep shuddering breath. She was not going to join her Edward. Not tonight.

“Let go of me!” She squealed and began to punch his shoulders repeatedly. It felt like hitting iron, every blow more painful than the other, yet she refused to stop. 

Indeed, she was just like that sea monster of a cat.

Stoic as an icy sea breeze, the pirate tilted his head at the girl. Despite her desperate efforts, her battle did nothing but vex him. Quirking one eyebrow, he released his grip from her jaw and swiftly reached for her hands. Lizette did her best to evade, squirming erratically, but to no avail. With a swift single hand, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head with a booming thud.

The girl gasped out with surrender, strands of her hair blowing back and forth upon her face as she heaved and panted exhaustingly. With his hand around her wrists and his body slightly bent to meet her height, he stood  closer to her than any other man had before. So close that she could taste the wine and sea salt on his breath and study every freckle and every scar that marked his skin. He was nothing like her Edward, she thought; he was coarse and terrifying, and despite it all, she found him tragically beautiful. 

She hated him for that. 

“Listen to me now and listen carefully,” he finally spoke, tightening his grip around her wrists.

Liaette lifted her chin disdainfully; it took every ounce of self-restraint not to spit at his murderous, smug face. 

“You’ve mistook my hospitality and playfulness for kindness, but let’s get this straight; I am not a good man. Upset me, and I will pluck that little flower between your thighs without blinking and then throw you to my crew once I have my fill.” 

His words brought a stark shiver down her spine, yet it wasn’t just fear this time but something far more primordial. Between her trembling thighs, she sensed dewy wetness. A desperate gnawing need she had never known before. Trying to ease and brush it off, she squirmed and ground her thighs. 

August’s brow rose with realisation, an immediate knowing grin spilling upon his malicious face. He leaned closer, his lips and whiskers brushing against her ear as he spoke. 

“Seems like there won’t be much resistance from you, isn’t that so, pet? Soon, you’ll beg me to fuck y…”

His words were cut as warm saliva splattered on his cheek. 

He shut his eyes momentarily, releasing a deep, exasperated grunt and then moved an inch away to fish a silk handkerchief from his pocket. Lizette watched proudly as he wiped his face. 

The pirate, however, was not amused. Throwing away the handkerchief, he offered her a deadly frown. And then he leaned in, his mouth drawing voraciously closer to hers as if meaning to devour her.

“I warned you…”

“Captain.”

A low, sonorous call followed from the door, drawing both August and Lizette to turn their heads toward the uninvited guest. 

Lizette blinked twice. The man in question was almost the spitting image of August, though his hair was wild with earthy curls and his beard fully grown, pointy, and tended with wax. Indifferent to the scene before him, he drew a pipe from his pockets and lit it with the flame of a candle that stood on a shelf near the door.  

August regarded him with slight respect, yet not without annoyance:." What is it? I am busy.”

“I can see that,” the other pirate puffed out, grey lines of smoke following through his nostrils, “you are needed at the brig.”

“About?”

“Flint might finally speak.”

Eyes ablaze with sudden intrigue, August straightened to his fall height and drew a step back from the girl yet kept his grip around her wrists. 

“I assume your methods worked, brother?” He crooked one eyebrow at the other pirate curiously. 

‘Brother, of course,’ Lizette nearly chuckled. The men must have been twins, although she could tell the other sibling had far more grey in his untamed mane. 

“My methods always work.” He answered with dry arrogance. “Finish her off later. This is more important.”

August lingered, his fingers brushing over his moustache as he contemplated what to do with his sweet little prisoner. The possibilities were endless, yet the more interesting ones would take some time, and with the trouble she gave him, he definitely wanted to give her what she deserved. 

A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips. “A moment, Gus,” he requested, finally unhanding the girl. 

The man, now known as Gus, bowed his head and threw Lizette a quick glance before disappearing into the darkness behind the door.

“It seems like I have some business to attend to, love. Shall we continue our little fun later?” August teased, slight annoyance still lingering at the tone of his voice.

Lizette did not answer. Rubbing her aching wrists, she watched him cautiously while he searched within his pockets.  She wondered what new cruel method of torment he would inflict to her now. 

To her surprise, it was a small silver key.

He lifted it to her face and offered her a razor-sharp  stare." The water is close to freezing; sharks and eels are swimming within them, and every man upon my deck is probably plotting to use you as fuckhole since the moment you stepped onboard. I trust you won’t try anything stupid in my absence.”

“Like what?” Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, she dared to speak back, “Seduce one of your crew members to fornicate with me so he would betray and murder you?” 

Her weariness must have brought out the worst in her because she would have never thought of such an inappropriate, vile thing. Then she realised it was  him who, in less than a few hours, corrupted her soul. 

August paused and contemplated for a moment as if this was an actual possibility he did not consider. However, he brushed it off with a burst of taunting laughter while proceeding to unlock the collar around her neck. “I wouldn’t  recommend it, love. They all come with so many exotic afflictions on their cock s that no doctor has even heard of.” 

As the iron was removed from her little neck, the girl rested her hands around it, massaging the cuts and bruises that formed beneath. It ached even worse as the chill air of the night pecked at the raw flesh. 

The pirate waltzed toward the table, reclaiming the pistol in an obviously provoking manner. He sheathed it back at the front of his waistband and paced toward the door. 

“I won’t be long, love,” he promised, and with that, he left and locked the door behind him.

Lizette listened carefully to the sound of his footsteps, counting them one by one until she could no longer hear him. And then, she began to search around the cabin for anything, anything that can be used as a weapon. 

‘I will not be a pirate’s whore.’  She vowed to herself while absentmindedly grazing a palm over her cheeks where August had touched her. 

[peyton-warren]

Very well written. You have these blue down part. Interested to see where this goes.

And the damsel part was my favorite. Lassen being a sassy bitch was delightful.

My Home Is You Part 1/3

A/N: I am so obsessed with this movie, I've seen it twice. Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting.

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part 2

“What’s that?” Freddy points to the lump behind Gus’s coat. 

“Nothing,” Gus shrugs, “shall we.” 

“We shall not,” Freddy shouts exasperated, “it’s moving! Unless you became the hunchback of Notre Dame in the ten minutes I left you, you got something hidden behind your back!” 

“He’s got a point, boss,” Hazy shrugs. 

Gus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I think the jig is up,” he pushes the coat up and out you pop from behind his side, disappearing behind him with a shriek. 

“Where the hell did you find a woman?!” Freddy looks around, then goes silent putting two and two together, “Oh, I see.” 

“She’s coming with us,” Gus reaches behind him and you grasp his hand, trembling hard at being surrounded by so many men. His touch is warm, and you take a moment to breathe before stepping out from behind him at your full height. 

“Hello,” you whisper, giving an awkward wave. 

Gus lets go of your hand and claps making you jump and his face quickly turns apologetic, “Fuck, sorry about that, love. These are the boys,” he points to each man giving you a quick rundown on his merry band of miscreants. He turns to you with a proud smile, “I never did catch your name.” 

“Let me get this straight,” Freddy puts his hands on his hips, sticking out one finger towards Gus, “you find a random woman hidden in a Nazi garrison, fight your way out with her, and decide to bring her with us, without asking her name first?” 

“Probably did it a bit backward,” Gus rubs the back of his head with a chuckle, “but I’m making up for it now.” 

You clear your throat and they all turn towards you as you say your name, a small smile spreading across your face when they repeat it to you. “Welcome to the team,” Anders bows before putting his bow over his shoulder, “shall we get back to the boat, we got somewhere we need to be.” 

“After you,” Gus says, frowning when he realizes Anders is already halfway back to the boat. “That’s the spirit Lassen, lead the way!” Gus slings an arm around your shoulder and helps you walk, it’s slow and painful; your foot aches with every step but you keep it to yourself. These men have already done enough liberating you and agreeing to take you with them. The last thing they need is for you to be injured. But nothing gets past Gus. 

He doesn’t ask, just leans down and swings you up into his arms. You gasp, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Wh-what are you doing?” you whisper. 

“You’re limping,” he whispers back, almost like two children sharing a secret, he grins. “I’m not about to let you hurt yourself worse before I can take a look at your injuries.” 

“I’m fine,” you bite your lip looking away, “you’ve done enough already.” 

Gus stops, the others moving around him to toss the rope down the cliff side, “Darling, I know you’ve just spent gods knows how long with the worst creatures imaginable but not all of us are monsters.” 

“I didn’t say you were,” you turn back to him, and catch your breath when you notice how close he is. “I don’t think you’re a monster at all,” you whisper, swallowing hard, “I just don’t want to cause you any more trouble.” 

“Do you know what I thought when I saw you tucked behind that wall crying and holding your ears?” You shake your head, and he grins, “She looks like just my kind of trouble.” 

The first smile in months spreads like wildfire across your face and you nod. “Ready?” Apple interrupts, “We managed a pulley to get her down.” 

Gus nods, lifting you into the makeshift pulley and working with Apple to lower you down. When you reach the ground Lassen lifts you into his arms while Gus and Apple come down and re-wrap the rope around their arms. 

When finished, Gus reaches his arms out for you and Anders smiles, tugging you closer. “I think I’ll hold on to her for a while. Give you a break,” he looks down giving you a conspiratorial wink. 

“Give me back my damsel,” Gus holds out his arms wider, “I’m not going to ask again.” 

“Who are you calling a damsel?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, and Lassen lets out a joyful cheer. 

“You tell him, honey,” he turns walking with you back towards the dinghy. His glee makes a ghost of a laugh appear in your throat before you toss your head back in delight. 

Apple pats Gus on the back as he climbs into the boat and you look back to see Gus smiling, a full-blown smile just for you and you rest your head on your arm and look back at him. “It’s good to see you laugh,” he mouths, and your cheeks ache from smiling as he sits down and begins to row. 

“Row row, row your boat,” Lassen mumbles under his breath, the lull of the waves and the feeling of safety making your eyes droop. “Oh, the little lamb is tired, no?” he whispers in your ear, “You rest, no one will harm you ever again.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you repeat your fathers words aloud. 

“Little lamb, with the way Gus is looking at me right now. You don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you for the rest of your life.” He rubs a hand over your arm and chuckles, mumbling, “if looks could kill.” 

“He won’t always be there,” your words are drowsy as you burrow deep into his arms, letting out a yawn. 

“Ah, little lamb, I highly doubt that,” Lassen chuckles softly, before you feel yourself being lifted into anothers arms. The scent of smoke, cologne, and leather lull you into a deeper sense of calm and you snuggle into his arms. Gus looks down, brushing a knuckle over your cheek and committing your face to memory as you fall asleep, breathing softly. “Take a picture,” Lassen teases, “it will last longer.” 

“Her cell was next to mine,” Apple interrupts, “she was always so nice to me. Tried to patch me up the best she could through the bars. I tried to return the favor, everytime they brought her….fuck I can still hear the screaming.” The men are silent, the waves crashing against the dinghy as they get closer and closer to the boat. 

“Well,” Freddy clears his throat, “she’s safe now.” They reach the boat, helping Gus aboard and watching as he disappears below deck with you. 

“Heaven help the man who tries to take her away from him,” Hayes clears his throat, and the rest climb aboard and continue on toward Fernando Po. 

Below deck, Gus tucks you into his bunk and watches the rise and fall of your chest before he moves towards the end of the bed, and lifts the blanket to remove your shoe. He curses when he sees the bruising around your ankle. He removes the other shoe and has to control his breathing when he sees the same markings; shackles. 

“Never again,” he whispers, grabbing bandages and ointments and applying them to your ankles. The bottom of your foot is no better, and he grabs the tweezers removing several shards of glass and bandaging your feet. “No wonder you were limping,” he talks to himself. He takes the next twenty minutes checking over the parts of your body he can see, treating every little cut and bruise. When he’s finished he walks over to a basin of water and washes his hands before pouring a glass of scotch and sitting down at the map. 

He loses track of the time, his head snapping up from the table when the screaming starts. He pushes the chair out, climbing over the table to grab your thrashing body. He repeats your name over and over again till your eyes pop open, gasping you reach towards him throwing your arms around his neck and letting out a sob. “I thought it was a dream,” you sob brokenly into his skin, almost crawling into his lap, “I dreamed I was back there,” you take a deep breath, “that they were…” 

“No,” he shakes his head, pulling back to put both hands on your face, his thumbs brushing the tears from your eyes. “You’re safe,” he repeats once, then twice, “do you hear me?” 

“I’m safe,” you repeat back, the tears silently streaming down your face. From the stairs, the men stare at the scene before them. “Uh oh,” Freddy shakes his head, and the others turn to him with various questions. “Look at them,” he points back to you and Gus, “he looks at her like he just realized what love was.” 

“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Freddy,” Apple claps him on the shoulder with a laugh. “I’m not,” he shrugs, “but I’m also not blind. That right there,” he points a finger, “that’s love if I ever saw it. You just wait, I bet you ten pounds she goes home with him at the end of this mission.” 

“I’ll take that bet,” Hayes tosses over his shoulder. 

Apple raises a brow, “you don’t think they’ll end up getting hitched once we’re home.” 

“That wasn’t the bet,” Hayes grins, “he bet that she’ll go home with him at the end of the mission. I think we’ll either be dead or in jail so she probably won’t be going home with him.” 

“Never bet against yourself, Hazy,” Freddy shakes his head, “have I taught you nothing.” 

“It’s your deal,” Henry reminds him before shrugging past to go back to the deck, “let’s go, give them some privacy.” 

Their steps recede and Gus rubs the last of your tears away, “do you want something to eat?” 

“Yes,” you nod, moving from his lap and tugging the blanket around your shoulders. When you step down, you quickly look at the bandages around your feet and ankle before meeting his eyes, “thank you,” you whisper, “for everything.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he puts the kettle on, “any decent human being would do the same.” You sit down at the table seeing the maps and confidential files spread across the surface. Gus grabs the papers and puts them into a pile before putting down a cup of steaming tea before you. 

“I have a few questions,” you wrap your hands around the cup, absorbing some of the warmth. 

He takes a sip, blowing the top with a grin, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

“What were you doing in the Garrison?” 

“Rescuing Appleyard,” he takes another sip, “we needed him.” 

“For what?” 

Gus puts down his cup, crossing his arms over his chest and your heart beats a little louder at how strained the fabric is over his bulging biceps. You quickly take a sip of your tea, burning your tongue when you meet his eyes, seeing amusement sparkle. “Enjoying the show?” you cough, the tea spilling down the front of your dress. “Shit,” he shouts, grabbing a towel and pulling out the chair beside you to sit down. You grab it and soak up the liquid from your dress, the top sinking lower with each tug. 

When you’re finished you glance up to see his eyes on your chest before he quickly averts his eyes and clears his throat. “Enjoying the show?” you smile softly when he coughs and lets out a strained laugh. 

“Very much,” he turns his head and your mouth goes dry. Neither says anything for a moment before he goes back to the pile and tugs out the map. You take another sip of tea to prevent being parched when he spreads it over the table. “We’re on a secret mission for the English government.” “Come again?” you clear your throat, sitting up straighter. 

He grins, “We are on an unsanctioned, unofficial mission to destroy a ship and two tug boats holding enough supplies to supply the German U-boats for six months. We destroy those ships and we regain control of the Atlantic.” 

“And how do you plan to do that?” 

“Explosives,” he pushes a tin of biscuits towards you, “tons of explosives. What do you think?” 

You sit there for a moment, processing everything he’s said before reaching into the tin and pulling out a ginger snap. You dip it into your cup before taking a bite with a grin, “where can I sign up?” 

[peyton-warren]

Y'all need to read this!! I've read part 1 and part 2 of this story several times now. I'm almost as obsessed with it as I am the movie. Am dying for the 3rd part. The way the author writes well everyone is fantastic.

My Home Is You Part 2/3

A/N: Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting. And @jellybeanstacey0519 & @mrsyixingunicorn10 for asking about a taglist and commenting on the last part.

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part One

“So are you two fucking?” Freddy sits across from you, pointing between you and Gus. 

“Freddy!” Gus shouts, outraged as you spit tea across the table, staining the map. 

“What?! It’s a valid question!” Freddy grins, crossing his arms over his chest. You cough, trying to catch your breath while Gus pats your back trying to clear your airway. “It’s a small boat,” he continues, despite the incredulous looks from both you and Gus. “And it’s obvious you’re sleeping together, but what I want to know is if you’re fucking?” 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Henry shakes his head and quickly grabs the back of Freddys coat to drag him up the stairs to the deck, his vocal protests growing quiet at he moves further away. 

“Here,” you glance up and see Appleyard holding out a glass of water, “Freddy doesn’t have a filter.” 

“It’s alright,” you sip slowly at the water, “he’s right, it is a small boat.” You glance at Gus, “filled with intelligent men that are bound to notice I’ve been sleeping in bed with you since the day I arrived.” 

“But just sleeping,” Gus brushes a finger over your cheek, before a grin spreads across his cheeks like a cheshire cat. “I’m a lady, and I will not have my virtue questioned,” he holds a hand to his chest in fake modesty, “it’s a struggle, Apple, day and night I have to keep this daring rogue off me.” 

“Me?” you ask, faking outrage, “virtue my ass,” you reach a hand out to Apple, “the lady doth protests but everytime I have her moaning into the pillow that protest falls on deaf ears.” Apple looks between you both with a grin shaking his head and rolling his eyes before you both fall into each other with laughter. 

“I think you might have met your match,” Apple crosses his arms over his chest, “and a part of me is alarmed as well as pleased.” 

“BOSS!” Henry shouts from above, and you rush to the deck, “it’s a British destroyer,” he points off through the fog. 

“Do you think they’ve spotted us?” you ask, eyes going wide, “can we hide in the fog?” 

“I can’t outrun that, darlin’,” Freddy frowns. 

“And if we’ve seen them,” Gus lowers the spyglass, “they’ve surely seen us.” 

“What do we do?” you stand beside him and he tugs off his coat, putting it around your shivering shoulders before placing his arm around your waist. 

“Well,” he looks around at the other men, “we play the part. We are swedish fisherman, let’s be swedish fisherman.” 

The boys work like a well-oiled machine as they quickly remove any guns, explosives, or otherwise unsavory items below deck and hide them away. The destroyer looms closer and the sway of the waves does nothing to quell the unease in your belly. “Time to move, Little Lamb,” Anders, holds his hand out for you and you grab it, sliding your hands into the sleeves of Gus’s coat as he lowers you below deck and hides you away. “Stay put,” he smiles softly, “everything will be okay.” 

Gus comes down the stairs, pressing a hand to Anders's shoulder as he moves past him back up to the deck. “You all settled then?” Gus asks, coming to stand before you, you nod silently, “good,” he looks around, “good. We’re going to be fine. I promised you remember?” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he grabs your arm, tugging you closer before lowering his mouth to your ear, his mustache scratches against your cheek and his breath hot against your neck leaves you trembling. 

His voice is low, deep, and etched with promise, “I don’t,” he whispers pressing his lips to your neck for a moment before quickly retreating up the stairs. You fall back against the wall, your breath coming out hard and fast as you quickly pull the wall shut, disappearing from view. The skin of your neck burns like a brand from his kiss, and you press your palm to it and close your eyes remembering every moment like a cinema reel. 

The waves kick up as the ship moves alongside the small fishing vessel and you can hear snippets of the conversation. Your blood churning cold when Gus replies using his normal voice, not the accent he’d been practicing moments before. Suddenly you hear your name shouted from above and push the wall back, running up the stairs, “What’s happening?!” 

“Help Freddy with the sail,” Henry shouts, everyone moving as quickly as possible, “we need to get the hell out of here.” 

You don’t question, doing everything you can to get the boat moving. Finally, everyone but Henry stops, watching the destroyer set off bombs into the water. “U-boat,” Gus replies, coming to stand beside you, holding onto your waist as the ship rocks from the tumultuous waves. The sea becomes quiet, nothing but the whip of the wind as you move further and further away. “Bullseye,” Gus whispers, “I think they got him.” 

“But let’s keep going Hayzy,” Freddy shouts, “don’t want to take any chances.” 

The rest of the day passes in silence as you all take in the close call. And as night descends and dinner passes no one says a word when Gus climbs into his bunk behind you, pulling you close to his chest, hearing him hum a sweet song in your ear as you drift off to another nightmareless sleep. 

The next few days pass without incident as you move closer and closer to the target. Each of the boys has taken to passing the time by teaching you what they do best; Freddy spending hours giving you the ins and outs of explosives, Henry teaching you everything you need to know to man the boat if need be, Apple pouring over maps and documents while discussing strategy, and Lassen, the Danish Hammer, teaching you hand to hand combat so you never have to become a victim again. 

“You’ve been busy,” Gus sits down beside you, handing you his water, as you catch your breath from Anders newest lesson; how to breakout of a chokehold. 

“I like it,” you smile, water splashing down your chin, “I feel like I can take on the world.” 

He grins, brushing the water off your chin with his thumb before putting it in his mouth. Your mouth goes dry as he licks his lips with a wide smile. “Not fair,” you stick your tongue out at him, and he lets out a booming laugh, similar to the first time you heard him back at the Garrison. 

“Do you think it’s been easy for me?” he teases, “seeing Lassen’s hands all over you.” His eyes darken, “maybe I should take over the lessons?” 

“No,” you shake your head, “then I would learn nothing.” 

He scoffs, “I happen to be an excellent teacher.” 

“I’m sure,” you replace the top of the water, handing it back to him and standing. You stretch, reaching your hands over your head, his eyes widening as he takes in the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and pants you borrowed from the boys. You grin, leaning over him and putting a hand on his shoulder before whispering in his ear, “I’ve been sleeping with you for ten days, Gus, and I know for a fact you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

You pull back with a grin and his mouth gaps open and closed like a fish before he grins, “tease. I’m a good girl.” Gus stays there watching through the rest of the lesson, encouraging and giving feedback. It’s a unique feeling to be around men that not only respect you but also encourage you to fight and learn when it seems the rest of society want to see you as a housewife with a home full of children and a hot meal on the table. 

“Alright, Lassen, you’ve hogged her attention for long enough,” Gus stands brushing off his pants. 

“Me?” Anders laughs, “I think you should look in the mirror my friend, see who is really hogging all of her attention.” 

Gus ignores him holding out a hand for you, “come along, darling, it’s time you learn how to shoot.” You take his hand and he leads you to the front of the boat where he’s arranged a variety of weapons. 

“Now what is your experience with guns?” Gus asks, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. 

“Well,” you sigh, “I did end up a prison in a Nazi garrison, so the experience has been less than good. 

His smile drops and he nods before turning back to the table and lifting a simple handgun. “Okay, we start small,” he lifts the gun, “this is a colt .45, small but deadly, it can be easily concealed. To fire, you remove the safety, set your stance, aim, and fire.” 

“Sounds simple enough,” you nod, reaching a hand out for the gun. “First thing, how do I remove the safety?” He spends the next 15 minutes going every minute detail about the weapon until you feel confident you could repeat it back to him. 

“Now, stance is very important when learning how to shoot. Because weapons kick back, and if you’re not standing correctly it will knock you on your butt.” He moves behind you, placing his hands on your hips, and raising them the sides of your body and out towards your arm. His mustache tickles your cheek, and he relaxes against you. “Now, steady on the target,” he gestures to the bottle sitting on the edge of the boat, “take a deep breath.” His body moves with your own, each of you taking a deep breath before he whispers in your ear, “Fire.” 

The gun kicks back and he holds you steady, the bottle blasting into pieces and shattering into the sea. “Bullseye,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he lowers the gun and replaces it on the table, his body still pressed to yours. “That’s my girl,” he turns you slowly, your eyes rising to meet his. 

He’s close, his lips but a breath away, “Gus,” you whisper, “I…I want.”

“What do you want, darling? Say the word and it’s yours,” he smiles softly, his thumbs tracing patterns on your hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to your cheek, then the other before hovering over your lips, “Tell me, darling. What do you want?”

Your heart thunders in your chest, so loud you’re sure he can hear it. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife and you can feel the slick between your legs, anticipation for his kiss, his touch building till it’s a raging inferno inside. “I want-” 

“BOSS! An urgent message on the wireless!” Freddy shouts and you can’t help the word that slips out of your lips. 

“Fuck!” Gus lets out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead before quickly turning towards the stairs. 

“Don’t worry darling,” he tosses over his shoulder, “we will continue this conversation later.” 

You stand there for a moment composing yourself, the sea doing little to quench the heat from his touch. Never in a million years did you think you’d crave a mans touch like this especially after what happened in that camp. There is a deep seated fear that that experience would tarnish every future encounter, but with Gus, it’s so easy. Everytime he touches you it’s like all the bad fades away, and all that’s left is him. 

“I need to get my damn head on straight,” you whisper to the wind before turning to follow him below deck. The boys are standing around the wireless, clenched jaws all around. “What happened?” you ask coming to stand beside Gus and see the message on the notepad. “What does this all mean? Tin of corned beef?” 

“It’s code,” he mumbles, wiping a hand on his face, “it means they moved up the sailing date by three days and the port is now filled with more soldiers than any of us were anticipating. Hayzy,” he looks up at the boy, “can you get us there in 12 days?” 

“Not the way we’re going,” he shakes his head, “we’ll need to cut through German occupied sea, otherwise we’ll never make it in time.” 

“Do what you must,” Gus nods, watching as he retreats upstairs to change course. “Heron says he has a contact who might be able to give us some backup. We need more men if we’re going to live through this.” 

“Even then,” Apple sits down across from him, “we can’t take on an entire army.” 

“Trust Heron,” Gus leans back in his chair, “he gave us coordinates to meet him. We will make our way there and see what he has to say. This mission,” he licks his lips, “is vital to the British. If we fail, then Britain will fall to German occupation.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Apple asks with a groan. 

“I’m saying Gentlemen, and Lady,” he nods his head at you, “failure is not an option.” 

The boys sit there in silence processing the news before returning to their duties. Gus sits in his chair, his shoulders slumped like they weigh a hundred pounds each. “What can I do?” you stand behind him, massaging his shoulders. He moans, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into your waist. 

“I don’t know if we’ll survive this, darling,” he says the words quietly so only you can hear. His voice is heavy with the pressure. “The odds are stacked against us and I’m not a gambling man but if I was, I’m not sure I would bet on us.” 

“Don’t say that,” you push his arms out of the way and sit in his lap, his eyes snapping open as he wraps you in his arms and into his chest. “I saw the way you took down that Garrison,” you wrap your arms around his neck and rub the hair at the nape of his neck. “There is not a team alive like yours. If anyone can do this, it’s you.” 

“You put too much faith in me, darling,” he says with a sad smile.

“And you don’t put enough.” His forehead presses to your own and you cradle him to your chest, running your fingers through his hair. “You have to come back alive, Gus. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“You’d move on,” he mumbles into your chest, “you’re beautiful, smart, and sharp as a whip. Men would be falling over their feet to marry you.” 

“Well that’s just too damn bad!” he lifts his head at your outburst, you hold onto either side of his face, and smile, “because all I want is you. All I need is you, Gus March-Phillips.” 

It’s like two magnets, colliding together, his lips press to yours with a hunger deep inside. His lips are warm and soft and you feel his tongue seek out your own as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like tea and those ginger biscuits he loves so much and you feel yourself getting drunk on the taste of him. “Shit,” he pulls back with a groan, pressing his forehead to your own, “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

“Like what?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious. 

He pulls back with a smile, “Perfection.” 

The next twelve days pass in a blur. Each day is filled with training, preparation, and endless amounts of kisses. The boys tease every time you sit down for a meal and Gus pulls you into his lap and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t fuck in my bed,” Freddy shouts one night over a meal and you kick him under the table, feeling Gus chuckle behind you. “Ouch! What the hell?! Some damsel in distress she turned out to be!” 

“Anders has been teaching me to fight,” you spit back, “I could easily kick your ass.” 

“My little lamb has become a tiger!” Anders shouts gleefully. 

“She sure is,” Gus remarks with pride, “that’s my girl.” You lean back in his arms as the others playfully spit out insults back and forth like brothers. Gus joins in occasionally and makes you laugh so hard your belly aches. 

“All joking aside,” Apple wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes, “we arrive at the coordinates tomorrow. Heron should be there with his contact.” 

“He’ll be there,” Gus nods, looking at the men around the room. “We have a big day ahead of us men, let’s get some sleep. Apple, you take first watch.” 

“Yes, boss,” he nods, going up the stairs.

“Come on, love,” Gus moves you to stand and drags you over to his bunk. The others quietly moving around the room and cleaning up from dinner. He tucks you into his bunk before placing a quick kiss to your lips, “I’m not tired, I’m going to sit up with Apple. I’ll be back later.” 

“Okay,” you tug him down for another kiss, “don’t stay up to late.” 

“I haven’t married you yet and you’re already nagging me,” he teases pressing another kiss to your lips, “I promise I’ll be back soon.” 

You watch his back retreat up the stairs, closing your eyes and snuggling down into his sheets. Suddenly your eyes pop open and you gasp, he said yet.

[peyton-warren]

Quite a thing to wake up to this morning. Luckily I woke before my alarm because I'm nervous about a meeting I have first thing and I was able to read this before leaving.

Well done! This part is as lovely as the rest. 💚💚

My Home Is You Part 3/3

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone that has read the first two parts and left a comment or some type of feedback. I really appreciate all of it.

Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting.

Thank you to: @jellybeanstacey0519 & @mrsyixingunicorn10 @peyton-warren @affabletimelady @arctickat2400 @luftmenchz @mrsevans90 for commenting and leaving feedback! :D

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader (she/her)

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part One Part Two

There is no time to bring up what Gus said with the mission looming so close, and in the morning as the sun streams through the gaps in the wood, you observe the man beside you. He looks so peaceful in sleep and you run your finger over his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before you go to climb out of bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbles sleepily pulling you back into his arms and pressing his cheek to your own.

“I wanted to make a cup of tea,” you giggle, leaning back in his arms and turning your head to kiss him, “but someone won’t allow me.”

“That’s right,” he nods giving a little hmph, “I’m the mean old man who keeps you trapped in his bed, so he can have his wicked way with you. No tea for you, darling, just debauchery day and night.” He gives out a fake laugh like the Wicked Witch from that Wizard of Oz movie.

“Gus!” you shout, laughing when tickles your side with a laugh. He stops, keeping you close as you catch your breaths. “You’re ridiculous,” you chastise playfully.

“Ah yes,” he agrees with a smile, “but that’s why you love me.” You tense in his arms and he rubs his hands up and down your own, “what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you let out an awkward chuckle, “I just need to use the ladies room.” He lets you go with a raised brow as you almost trip over yourself trying to get away.

When you’re alone, you lean against the wall and take a deep breath. Everything he said the night before comes back and you give a soft smile realizing that yes, that is why you love him. The man who liberated you from a living hell twenty-three days prior, who held you through your nightmares, that taught you how to shoot, and make you laugh till you cried. Fuck, you loved Gus with all of your heart. But now was not the time to make such declarations. Not when the fate of the British Empire was at stake.

“You alright, my little Tiger,” you nearly jump out of your skin as Anders comes to lean against the wall beside you. “You seem to be deep in thought.”

“No,” you shake your head with a sigh, “no deep thoughts. I’ve just come to a realization.”

“Do you care to share it with ze rest of the class?” he smiles sitting down on a barrel and patting the spot beside him.

You sink into the seat with a sigh, “I love Gus.”

“Yes,” he nods, “we know. Now what is the realization?”

“That was the realization,” you gape at him, “what do you mean, we know?”

“Oh, it’s obvious, both of you are madly in love with the other.”

“Gus loves me?” you wrap your arms around your waist and lean back, looking at the sea repeating the words back to yourself, “he loves me.”

“The first night we met,” Anders grabs your hand and holds it gently, “Freddy told us that Gus looks at you like he just realized what love was. We live a life filled with blood and death at every corner but somehow in all that mess, you found each other. A love like that does not come every day. But when it does, you need to seize it my little tigress, seize it, and don’t let it go.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and he squeezes your hand and leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead before walking away leaving you with your thoughts. Neither of you notice the figure in the corner. Gus clenches his fist and glances away before marching back below deck to prepare for the meeting with Heron.

The rest of the day passes steadily by and you drop anchor just as the sun begins to set on the coordinates. You’d spent the day tucked away, watching the sea go by as you thought of Gus and how the hell you were supposed to tell him you loved him when he might die the following day. “Someone’s coming,” Henry shouts, and you stand, taking unsteady steps as the pins and needles attack your legs.

Gus stands at the front, his shoulders drawn tight and you move to stand beside him. He quickly glances down at you, his jaw clenched before he looks away. You shrink back from him falling into place beside Apple. He looks between you both with a raised brow. But you don’t have an answer for the icy treatment from the man who's been nothing but kind since the beginning.

“Heron my old pal,” Gus grins, reaching across the two boats to shake his hand.

“Gus,” Heron replies, “may I introduce the Prince of Fernando Po, Kambili Kalu.”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere,” Gus puts a finger to his chin, “I could have sworn I’ve seen you before. Perhaps…do you play cricket?”

“I used to, at Eaton,” Bili poses and Gus laughs.

“Yes! I knew it, I remember seeing your portrait in the hall. Great to have you aboard old chap.”

“Glad to be of service. These Germans, they’re bad for business. I heard you could use a few more men,” he shouts something in another language and men come pouring out of every crevice of the tugboat. “Fourteen of my best men.”

“We have additional weapons,” Gus turns going to help Freddy hand over a box when Bili raises a hand with a laugh.

“I think we’re covered. You might want to borrow some of ours.” Bili shouts and the covers unveil an arsenal of weapons and bombs.

“Jolly good,” Gus grins, putting his hands on his hips. “Let’s get everything moved around and discuss the plan before it gets much later.” He turns back to you and the boys and gives the order, everyone moving to do a job but you.

“Gus,” you step towards him but he turns back towards the front of the boat to pull out the map laying it down on the small table. Heron comes aboard and pauses giving you a raised brow when you quickly say your name, “The boys found me with Appleyard.”

“Ah,” he nods, “well glad to have you with us, miss. Marjorie, my associate will be glad to have another woman around for company.”

“Where is she now?” you ask looking around, “did you bring her with you?”

“Oh no,” he shakes his head, “she is getting ready for the party tonight at my Casino. Her mission is different from our own I’m afraid. But we all have the same goal.”

“I see, well I look forward to meeting her when this is all said and done.”

He smiles, shaking your hand, “I’ll be happy to see you again, miss.”

“Heron!” Gus shouts, looking over at you but not keeping contact, “Come on. We have work to do, you can smile at the pretty girl later.”

That does it. “What the hell is your problem?” you shout, putting your hands on your hips. The rest of the men fall silent looking between the two of you. “What did I do wrong, Gus?”

“Nothing,” he lets out a tired sigh, “you did nothing wrong. It’s me that should be sorry.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” you throw your arms up exasperated.

“I shouldn’t have pursued you, made you uncomfortable when all you wanted was Lassen.” Gus drops his shoulders, “it was wrong of me. You can move bunks and we never have to talk abo-”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Gus freezes watching you step over the ropes and boxes that litter the deck. “No seriously, did you hit your head?” You reach him, putting your hands over his head feeling for a bump.

“Uhm, no,” he grabs your wrists gently, lowering them back down. “I saw you two together.”

“What did you see? Hmm? What is it that you saw between me and Lassen that made you think I would be in love with anyone but you?” His eyes go wide but you’re on a roll, “and for that matter, when something is bothering you, you talk to me. You don’t ignore me and sulk like a child, do you understand me-”

He puts a hand to your mouth with a grin, “sorry darling, but could you repeat that last part?”

“Get off me,” you push his hand down, “what did you see between Lassen and I that would give the impression that I wanted to be with him?”

“That’s not what you said,” he frowns.

“Tell me!”

“I saw him kiss you on the forehead and hold your hand!” Gus shouts pointing back at Lassen.

“He was comforting me because I realized I was in love with YOU, you idiot!” Gus freezes, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“You said it again,” he grins, cupping your cheeks, “you said you love me.”

“I do, you buffoon,” you say quietly, “I do love you, Gus. I just didn’t know how to tell you and then Lassen talked to me and I was planning to do it but you ignored me. You hurt me, Gus.”

“Darling,” he runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing away a stray tear, “Darling, please don’t cry. I never meant to hurt you. I was hurting, thinking you were choosing Lassen over me. God, I love you so much, woman. You are my sun and stars and everything in between.”

“You love me?” you whisper, moving closer to close the distance between you.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he presses his lips to your own and you melt into the kiss. The boat erupted in cheers from both sides and Bili slapped him on the back.

“Good show, old boy,” he shouts, breaking the two of you apart. Gus tucks you into his arms, a smile beaming on his face as he presses several kisses to your forehead. “Now,” Bili grins, “let’s kill some Nazis.”

As the night descends the chill sets in and you shiver, watching the harbor lights glow. A jacket drapes over your shoulders and you smile, as Gus puts his arm around you. “It’s a beautiful evening,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “shame it’s going to be ruined by bloodshed.”

“Hopefully none of ours,” he holds you tighter sitting down and you turn wrapping your arms around his neck, straddling his waist. “I couldn’t bear to live without you, Gus.”

“I know Darling,” he runs his hands up and down your back, “the feeling is mutual. It kills me to know you could be in any danger tonight.”

“I chose this team,” you run your fingertips over the nape of his neck, massaging, “I chose to fight alongside them. To fight alongside you.”

“You remember the plan? You’re in charge of the boat, you have an arsenal of bombs to deploy if needed, otherwise when we give the signal you get the hell out of here.”

“I’ll be away from all the action, Gus. I’ll be safe.”

He nods, “I know, but can’t blame a man for worrying about the love of his life being in harms way.” You smile and he kisses you softly, pressing his forehead to your own, “I meant everyword of it darling. I love you and one day I’m going to make me your husband.”

“I like the sound of that,” you giggle, kissing him softly, “not you making me your wife but you my husband.”

“Well we both know who the boss is in this relationship, my love. You tell me where to go and I follow. Till death do us part.”

“Till death do us part, Gus. But please don’t let that be tonight.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he kisses you again, “but I dare them to try to take me away from you.”

“The lights should be out any minute now,” Bili comes to stand beside you, “we should get ready.”

“We’re ready,” Gus stands putting you on your feet. Suddenly a bomb goes off, and the lights of the harbor fade into darkness. “Show time.”

“Wait,” you grab his arm, pointing in the distance at a series of flashing lights, “what’s that?” Suddenly the wireless goes off downstairs and you follow behind Gus down below deck, Bili hot on your trail.

Gus sits at the controls, taking notes and cursing with each word. “Shit,” he whispers, before looking up at the men and clearing his throat, “they’ve reinforced the hull, the ship is unsinkable.”

“We can’t sink it?” you repeat, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Not with the amount we have,” he shakes his head, “goddamn it.” Gus reaches for the headset and switches it off so we can all hear, “M? Come in M?” Static meets them before the signal clears, “we have a situation, the tin has been reinforced, the corned beef cannot be cracked, do you copy it cannot be cracked.”

“Copy,” a voice says from the other end, “standby.” We all wait on bated breath before a new voice sounds on the radio. “Gus March-Phillips, this is Admiral Parker, I order you to abort the mission, do you copy? Abort mission and return home at once. This is an unsanctioned, unauthorized mission. Do you understand?”

“S-ssorry,” Gus pretends to cut out the signal and you grin as he makes noises like static, “can’t hear y-y-you, please fu-fuck o-off.” With that, he turns off the radio and puts his head in his hands, “well, what do we do now?”

“When did they reinforce the hull? Like between the last report and now, when did they have time to do that?” Freddy asks, scratching his head.

“That’s not important,” Gus interrupts, “the problem is, they did it.”

“No, it is important,” Freddy argues, “I’d like to know when in the twenty-something days we’ve been sailing did they manage to reinforce the hull?”

“He’s got a point,” Henry agrees before Gus shouts, shutting them both up.

“It’s not important right now! We have a mission to complete and I have no idea what to do.” The boys shout out ideas, each one more ridiculous than the last before Apple speaks up.

“If we can’t destroy the ships, let’s steal them.”

“Say more,” Gus encourages, pulling you into his lap and running his hand comfortingly over your waist. You all listen with bated breath at Apple’s plan. “It’s just crazy enough that it might work.” Gus looks at you with a grin, “And we all know what a mad bunch we are.”

Mad they may be but their professionalism wins out when it comes to pulling a plan out of their ass. In minutes, Bili was filled in on the plan and the boys sprung into action. “You remember what I taught you?” Henry asks, gently touching your shoulders, “the boys and I won’t be here to help you.”

“I remember Henry,” you nod, brushing off his hands, “I got this. I know the plan.” Henry nods before giving you a quick hug. The young Irishman was almost like a brother to you, and you’d hate to lose him. You tighten your arms before letting go. “Eh, do me a favor?” He nods, waiting expectantly, “Don’t die.”

He laughs, “I’ll try, but what are you always telling us? Don’t make a promise that ya can’t keep.” Henry lifts his cap before walking to the tug boat and climbing inside.

“I guess this is the end,” Freddy yawns, “It’ll be a terrible bore if we came all this way and died.” Freddy gives you a tight hug before pressing a device in your hand. You glance at him quizically and he winks, “You’ll know if and when to use it.”

“I’ll try to keep an eye on the old boy,” Apple takes his place giving you a quick squeeze and a kiss to the cheek. “Keep yourself out of trouble, won’t you?” You nod, feeling the tears well up, before a Danish Hammer forcibly pushes Apple aside.

“Oh, my little lamb is now a fierce tigress,” Anders chokes up, pulling you in for a hug so tight you’re sure some of your bones crack.

“Let her go, Lassen,” Gus pushes him away, “If you harm a hair on her body I don’t care if you’re my friend you’ll go for a dip in the Atlantic.”

“Gus,” you chastise, before turning to Anders, “take care of yourself, my friend. Though I know you don’t need it. I wish you luck.” He smiles, turns to the tug boat freezing, and turns slowly around when you clear your throat, “Don’t have too much fun.”

He grins like a child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “I’ll try for you.”

“It seems they have all fallen in love with you as much as I have,” Gus grinningly wraps his arms around your waist. “It’s hard to imagine them not.

“You’re biased, my love,” you press your forehead to his own, taking in a shuddering breath and closing your eyes over the sting of tears. “Gus…I.”

“Shhh,” he runs his fingers down your back, “let’s not do the dramatic goodbye. Let’s just say I’ll see you soon. Because I will,” he pulls you back, one finger on your chin, tilting your chin up. You blink your eyes open and the look in his eyes renders you speechless, utter devotion and love shine back at you. “I will see you again, either in this life or the next.” He leans in pressing his lips to your own, he’s warm and the scent of leather and cologne invades your senses leaving you drunk on him. He licks inside your mouth, tangling your tongues together as you grab the collar of his coat, tugging him closer. Before he pulls away with several small kisses to your lips, his mustache twitches with a smile, “I’ll see you soon, my love.”

“See you soon, Gus,” you reply breathlessly, releasing him and watching till he disappears into the tugboat and they pull away.

The waiting is infinite and you jump with every pop of a gun. The sea sways like a mother trying to calm her young, and you tighten your hand on the control Freddy gave you. It’s almost impossible to follow the figures of Gus and Henry as they move on the dock, taking out as many soldiers as possible, but you follow like a hawk, stalking her prey.

“Come on, come on,” you whisper, waiting for the anchor to blow. It seems to take forever but when all falls silent, and the boats move into position the blast comes. It’s loud, sending a ripple through the waves and the dock becomes a fury of activity. Soldiers come pouring out of the only lit warehouse, like champagne pouring out of a bottle. “Oh fuck,” the shooting starts and you clutch the remote tighter. The lights are almost blinding and you stand going over to the wheel and holding yourself steady with the other hand.

The tugboats strain under the heavy weight of the ship, and bullets ricochet off the side. You can hear the shouts of the men, begging the boat to move and a pained cry has you on your tiptoes trying to get a glimpse of the injured party. The situation is grim and you look between the controller in your hands and the scene before you, take a deep breath, and press the button.

The blast is almost powerful enough to knock you over and you have to look away as the light from the explosion threatens to blind you. You slowly open your eyes, standing straight and mouth agape at the sight of the large ship coming straight toward you. “Fuck,” you manuver out of the way, falling into position behind them as you all make a mad dash out of the harbor.

“Those S-boats are gonna be on us soon!” One of the men shout from Bilis crew. Suddenly a second explosion rocks the boat and you turn wide eyed at the collection of S-boats exploding high into the sky.

The men cheer and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, taking the helm and leading the boat out into open water. You try to catch sight of Gus but it’s dark and the boats are moving at full speed. You turn to see the burning harbor when you notice one of the tugs waiting, a familiar head of hair, standing at one end looking off in the distance.

Lights appear across the water and you fumble for the gun Gus left you. You aim, looking down the barrel as the boat gets closer, you can hear Bili shout that they need to go but something gives Gus pause. “It’s Heron!” he shouts, “don’t shoot!” You let out a gasp and lower the gun, adrenaline humming.

They pull alongside the tug and Heron and a beautiful woman in a white dress climb aboard before the tug starts moving closer. When they get about two feet from the edge, Gus runs across the deck of the tug and jumps aboard.

“We did it!” He grabs you, throwing his arms around you and spinning you around with a laugh. He lowers you to the ground, kissing you with his arm wrapped around you with his right, and attempting to steer with the left.

“If you crash, my ship, I’ll kill you boss!” Henry shouts and you break apart, gasping at the blood soaking through the cloth wrapped around his shoulder.

“Henry! You’re hurt!”

“Eh, it’s just a scratch,” he shrugs with a smile.

“Nice timing sweetheart,” Freddy shouts with a smile. “I was worried you weren’t gonna press it.”

“Freddy, I’d blow up a hundred harbors to keep my family safe.”

“Your family?” Gus smiles, “I like the sound of that.”

“Do you?” you ask, wrapping both arms around his waist. “How about another title.”

“What’s that?” He grins.

“My husband.”

Gus keeps his arm around you the entire time, the clock ticking on your time together as the small blip that is the destroyer becomes larger and larger. The ants atop the ship become humans, all standing in crisp white uniforms in a row, one more decorated than the others with a scowl on his face.

“I see we meet again,” the Admiral puts his hands on his hips, “you disobeyed a direct order-”

“We have something for you,” Gus interrupts, “found this ship just abandoned in the Atlantic. Thought it might be helpful for you.”

The Admiral raises his brow looking around your ragtag crew, “I see you’re in cahoots with pirates now?”

“Excuse you,” Gus shouts, “show some respect, you’re in the presence of royalty!”

Bili lifts an imaginary hat with a grin and the Admiral seems less than pleased as he scoffs. “All of you are under arrest by her Majestys government. Come aboard at once.”

“Gus,” you whisper, holding tighter around his waist as he presses a kiss to your head.

“We knew this was coming, Darling, just follow my lead.” He unwraps from your hold and moves around the ship, helping his men aboard the ship till the last one is loaded. Bili’s men stay aboard the tugboat, awaiting his orders.

“Admiral,” Bili bows, “my men and I have finished our work here. Your army will regain control of the Atlantic. I just ask for me and my men to return home to Fernando Po so we may begin the cleanup. We have a nasty bug, that I would very much like to stamp out.”

The Admiral raises his head, his mouth agape from reading the manifest of the ship and two tugs before coughing to clear his throat. “Uhm, yes,” he nods, “I suggest you and your men leave before I change my mind.” He turns to the rest of the crew with a frown, “as for the rest of you, it’s the brig for you.”

Everyone bids Bili goodbye as they are slowly ushered below deck to the brig to await arrival back in England. “This one doesn’t belong,” the Admiral stops the progression pointing to you, “you’re not in the report as a part of the mission. Who is she? What is her purpose here?”

“She’s not a part of the mission,” Gus hurries, halfway pushing you behind him, “we saved her from a Nazi garrison, she was being held captive with Captain Appleyard. I couldn’t leave her behind on that island so we brought her along until we could safely return her to England.”

“Did she have any role in this nonsense?” the Admiral gestures to the three ships floating nearby.

“No. We kept her below deck, away from the action. She’s just a civilian.”

“Gus-” you interrupt but go silent when he gives you a stern look before he masks it with a charming smile.

“She had not role in the plot sir, she’s innocent.”

“Very well,” the Admiral nods, “find her a room. But you go to the brig, March-Phillips. I’ll see you locked away for the rest of your life for this.”

“Gus,” you reach toward him but one of the soldiers holds you back, “let me go!”

“Get your hands off her,” Gus shouts, brushing off the soldiers trying to usher him below deck. “Admiral,” Gus turns towards the man, looking back and forth between the two of you. “Are you able to perform a wedding ceremony?”

“What are you bloody on about March-Phillips?!”

“You said I’m going to be locked away for the rest of my life, right? Well if that’s the case, sir, I’d rather leave my home and all my belongings to someone that needs it. Since I won’t be needing it where I’ll be going, sir.” Gus locks eyes with you, “that is if you’ll have me, darling?”

“Oh Gus,” you shake off the soldier's arm, “yes, a million times yes.”

“This is utter madness,” the Admiral scoffs before turning to his second, “Go to my quarters and get the bible off my bedside.” The man runs off and Gus steps closer, reaching out for your hands.

“One more request sir,” Gus turns, “would our friends be able to attend? I would very much like Captain Appleyard to be my best man.”

“And I’d like Anders Lassen to stand at my side,” you add, turning back to Gus with a smile.

“Very well,” the Admiral says, less than pleased with the whole situation.

In ten minutes the entire crew, your friends, and the Admiral stand at attention as you and Gus say your vows overlooking the Atlantic ocean. Anders stands at your side, holding the makeshift bouquet one of the soldiers fashioned out of knotted rope. “By the power vested in me by the United Kingdom and her Majesty’s Royal Navy, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Gus beams, pulling you close and dipping you into a passionate kiss as the ship explodes into thunderous applause. Anders sobs loudly, Marjorie handing him a handkerchief as he tries to muffle his tears. When Gus rights you, he presses another quick kiss to your lips, “I love you, and I’ll continue to love you for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too,” you cry, wrapping your arms around him, “I’ll be waiting Gus. I’ll wait forever for you to come home to me because my home is you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this happy moment,” one of the soldiers cuts in, “but you need to go back to the brig, sir.” Gus glares him down and he drops his head stepping away as Gus gives you a dozen more kisses before going with the soldier. He holds your gaze till the last second and you can’t help but feel a part of your soul go with him.

The rest of the journey feels endless, knowing the man you love and friends are below you locked in a cage awaiting trial. The men that call this vessel home are kind, bringing you meals and escorting you around the ship for a walk. And when the boat docks a week later you wait after disembarking hoping for a glimpse of your husband.

“Miss,” a man comes up beside you, “I’m Lieutent Fleming, I’ve been instructed to bring you home.”

“I want to wait,” you frown, “I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, they’ve been instructed to wait till you’re gone before unloading the prisoners.”

You glare, “those prisoners, are the most loyal soldiers I’ve ever known. Do you have any idea what they’ve done for this country?!”

His eyes widen, “I assure you, I am well aware of their sacrifice. Please, let me get you home and safe and I’ll explain everything. We have a plan to get them out. Please,” he holds out an arm towards the waiting car. You glance back at the ship one last time before biting your lip to hold back the tears and follow him into the car.

As he drives the tears stream down your face and you try to keep the sob clawing at your throat at bay. “Don’t worry, miss,” Lieutent Fleming assures, “we will get them out.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you whisper, burrowing down into the seat and closing your eyes.

The next six weeks pass in a blur of cleaning, coffee, and meetings with Ian. Lieutenant Fleming kept to his word and he’s been working alongside his boss, the mysterious M to get the boys and Marjorie from the military prison.

The day comes seven weeks and two days since you married Gus. “It’s time,” Ian quickly phones before the car arrives. You lock the door, pocketing the key and getting in.

“Good Morning Ian,” you smile, buckling up, and freezing when you notice it’s not Ian Fleming sitting across from you.

“Expecting someone else, were you?” Winston Churchill smiles across from you and you visibly swallow your mouth going dry. “Mrs. March-Phillips, I presume?” You nod, speechless, and he chuckles pleased, “you may call me Winston.”

“Oh, Mr. Churchill, I could never dream addressing you so informally,” you stumble over your words. “I just want my husband back, sir.”

“I understand,” he nods, putting his cigar back in his mouth and grinding down on one end while he talks. “You’re husband is a hero, and we need more like him. Men who are willing to take orders and give their own spin on them. Less yes sir, and no sir and more thinkers. I wish I had a hundred like him.”

You giggle, “I think theres no one out there quite like Gus.”

“Touche,” he grins, “I understand he’s been quite vocal about allowing visitors. The guards tell me they have a bag of letters for you upon arrival. He writes several daily but with the trial he was unable to send them. Another point he is most vocal about.”

The gate of the prison looms and your eyes widen as the car glides through and around the back out of view near the service entrance. “We can’t have anyone knowing I’m here.” You nod, following behind him as he gets out of the car and puts his hat on his head. A truck pulls up behind you and several soldiers disembark with baskets and silver tray ladden with rich foods. “I have to honor them somehow,” Mr. Churchill gives you a wink before he sets his face in the trademark scowl you’ve seen in the papers.

You follow as he walks down a dark corridor, his cane tapping on the floor almost soothing. “Stay here,” he stops just before the door, “you’ll be my last gift to them.” You pause, almost running around the corner but you know the anticipation is worth it. Mr. Churchills speech leaves tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and you ring your hands together as the soldiers carry in the food spreading it out on the table before them.

“And one last thing,” you perk up when you hear the chairs scrape across the floor as your friends prepare to dig into the feast. “Although this one is for you Captain March-Phillips than the rest of you. Come along, dear,” Mr. Churchill calls and you step around the corner, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

Gus’s eyes nearly bug out as they trail over every inch of you, the tap of the cane fading as the silence grows. His hair has grown out and his facial hair is unkept but he’s still as handsome as ever. “Hello,” you whisper, your hands clenching at your side nervously, “did you miss me?”

Freddy snorts, “Miss you?! God woman that’s all he bloody talks about!” Marjorie slaps him up the back of the head and you laugh before Gus launches himself at you.

“Darling,” he shudders, holding you tight and putting his face in your neck taking deep inhales, “god, I was going mad without you.”

“Can confirm,” Freddy shouts.

“Shut up, you wanker!” Henry hits him in the shoulder, “They haven’t seen each other for seven bloody weeks.”

The room fades away as they quarrel at the table, but you only notice Gus. The feel of his muscle through the prison jumpsuit, the scratch of his facial hair against your skin, the warmth from his mouth pressing kisses to your neck. “Gus,” you whisper, running your hands through his hair as his mouth seeks your own, and he presses a kiss to your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

“Fuck,” he groans, “I missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Home is too quiet without you, and I can’t fucking sleep without you, Gus. I’m not sure I ever want to again.”

“You won’t,” he nuzzles your cheek before closing his eyes and keeping you pressed into his arms, “I won’t ever leave you again, darling.”

“Did you say home?” Henry interrupts, a mouthful of meat pie filling his mouth as he talks between bites.

“Yes,” you nod, “I moved into Gus’s home while he’s been away. Ian Fleming helped me.”

“Ah-ha!” Food splatters across the table as he points at Freddy, “You owe me ten pounds!”

“The bet was, she would go home with him at the end of the mission! He never went home, so actually you owe me ten pounds!”

“You bet on us?” you ask, with a chuckle, Gus leading you over to the table and pulling you into his lap.

“Ja,” Anders nods, “there were several bets actually.”

“And this bet was if I would go home with Gus at the end of the mission?” they both nod digging back into their dinner. “Well then, Henry would win,” Freddy opens to his mouth to argue but you hold up a hand silencing him. You take the fork out of Gus’s hand feeding him bites of pie as he leans against your chest with his eyes closed, a smile stretched against his face. “Because as soon as you completed I went home with Gus. Maybe not physically but I’m his wife and he’s my husband and wherever I go he’s in my heart and I his.”

“That’s not how it works,” Freddy pouts.

“Don’t bet on me then, if you don’t like the outcome,” Gus laughs opening his eyes and pulling you down for a kiss.

His eyes are warm as he rubs his hand against your cheek, his friends laughing and teasing one another surrounded by good food. All's right with the world and in an hour they’ll be free. Gus pulls you in for another kiss his lips lingering a second longer as he whispers against your lips, a smile splitting his face, “that’s my girl.”

Requests are open. Got another idea for this fandom? Send them my way! Thanks for reading!