#gus march phillips/Reader

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - Chapter I

Summary-> You and your family live in a tiny coastal town, on the French side of the English Channel, during the Second World War. Things aren't easy for the four of you, for obvious reasons, with France being under German Occupation. But things become ever more complicated, when you find a wounded man washed ashore and you feel obligated to help him.

Dragging your family and town into a dangerous situation.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 4.3k

Warnings-> PG: Blood, Language, Infidelity

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Climbing and cloudless, the sun beared down on the sapphire English Channel below. Its roaring waves lapped against the shore of one of France's many serene and far-reaching beaches, washing in bits of seaweed and sea life with its eddies and tides. A trio of gulls circled above one area of the shore, letting out their shrill call in agitated excitement, while making mock dives for the prize they had their beady eyes on.

You, out on an early morning, seaside walk, lifted your hand against the shining sun, to study the sea birds. Interested in what they were so adamant about, but also felt cautious, as you approached. Since times were not the best to find surprises on the beach. Especially not here, along the Channel. But you couldn't stop your curiosity, and edged ever closer to the birds and their would-be meal. The nearer you got, the more you felt a growing alarm, seeing the foamy, salt water tinged with something red.

You froze, horrified to see the water rushing by your bare feet. Realizing it was blood. Following the tentacles of blood a few meters up the beach, you found the shock of a lifetime.

Startling back with a yelp, you tripped over the wet hem of your skirt and tumbled backwards, falling hard and knocking some of the air out of your lungs. Eyes fixed on a limp hand gently floating in the water, the skin of the finger-pads wrinkled from long water exposure. But it was the man attached to the arm that alarmed you, his thickly bearded face turned to one side and rocking to the ebb and flow of the water he laid half submerged in, a wound somewhere on his person seeping out around him.

You were sure he had to be dead, why else would he wash ashore in the freezing Channel water. You had only been sitting in it for a few, short minutes and were already shivering, while he only stirred because of the current.

Poor man. You thought, your brow pinching with heartfelt sympathy for him and whoever his family was.

Finally getting to your feet, you twisted some of the water out of your skirt, frowning to see some of his blood had soaked into the rough fabric. But there was no help for that. You knew you'd have to return to the village and inform the authorities of him. So they could retrieve his body. Especially before the village kids found him. The evil little rascals. They enjoyed poking at anything dead that washed ashore. You'd seen them pestering a poor seal corpse just last week. But you also knew, you should actually make sure he was deceased, before running off to inform Director General Trottier about him. You just needed to find the courage to draw closer and touch him.

To hold a hand against his nose, in search of any breath.

“Perhaps I should just go get the authorities to do this?” You mumbled to yourself, wringing your hands anxiously. “They have the experience.” You tried to reason, looking over your shoulder towards the village. “But what if he is still alive.” You said, looking back at him. “And he dies, while I run back for help.”

“Christ, why did you have to wash up here?” You huffed, a rush of frustrated confidence flooding you.

You waded to him and bent, bringing your dripping hand up to his nose and held still for a long time. Wanting to make sure it was actually his breath against your palm, and not the wind. The longer you left your hand there, the more positive you became that this strange man was still, to some degree, alive.

That just left the conundrum of what to do with him.

You needed to get him out of the icy water, that was for sure. If he didn't die from his wound and blood loss, he would surely suffer from hypothermia. He only had on a thin, long sleeve and half-button down, collared shirt and pants of the same material, paired with suspenders, belt and boots.

“What were you up to?” You frowned at him, seeing he was bleeding from a wound to the right side, before hooking your arm under his shoulder and bracing it under his, then started pulling his heavy body further up dry land; as far as you could get him. “Mmph!” You grunted, laying him down in the sand, unable to carry him any further.

“Oh gosh.” You panted, flicking back several windblown wisps of hair out of your face. “You are a beast of a man.” You were about to try and move him a little bit more, when you heard your name being called, and felt your heart jolt into your throat. “Oh, Christ.” You fretted, hands beginning to shake, sure you were busted by one of the patrol officers.

You frantically looked around, but there was nowhere to hide the man, you were in the open and the beach was mostly flat and smooth. So, you did the one feeble thing you could think of, you rushed around and put yourself between them and him.

Though, you found it to be useless.

“What are you doing?” Your brother huffed, coming up to you, breathless, before finally spotting the unconscious man you were trying to shield. “Who the hell is this?” He barked, waving a hand behind you.

You started to lie to him, but saw the look in his eye and gave that up. “I found him in the water.” You blurted out, turning around to face him. “He's still alive. Barely. He's been wounded in the side by something. But I pulled him out of the water and I was going to get help.” You looked at your brother, eyes wild. “However, you showed up.”

Your brother looked at you, critically, obviously furious. “That's a bullet wound!” He hissed at you, grabbing the front of the man's shirt and rolling him onto his uninjured side, to get a closer look.

“He's been shot!” You gasped, leaning over to see. “We have to help him, Edmund.”

“Help him!” Edmund barked, lifting a brow at you. “Are you quite out of your mind! If the Patrol finds him with us, they'll finish killing him and likely throw us in an interment.”

“Edmund.” You whispered, gasping the back of his arm.

He stared at you for a long second, then growled down at the man. “Fine.” He huffed, begrudgingly. “I just don't know how you expect us to move him, without getting caught by the Patrol.” He said, looking back towards the village, it was a good two hundred yards away, plus the eighty or so yards from the edge of the beach, along the edge of the village and to where you lived with your elderly father.

“What about your truck?” You perked up, looking at him, your eyes bright with the idea. “We can carry him to the edge of the beach, hiding him. I'll stay nearby, to keep an eye on him, while you go get your truck and come back. Then, we'll put him in the back and cover him with some of your tarps. Perhaps, take a short drive to some place and go back home. To reduce suspicion.”

Edmund stared at you, his expression conveying how skeptical he was about your plan, before he shook his head and threw up his hands. “If we get caught, I'm going to be so angry with you!” He chided, grabbing the man beneath the arms, much like you had. “Grab his feet.” He huffed at you, jerking his head at the man's boots.

“Yes, right!” You nodded, flustered, rushing around and grabbing his ankles. “Oh gosh, even his legs are heavy.” You groaned, stumbling to keep up with Edmund's quick pace as he rushed down the beach, wanting to work quickly before anyone came along.

“How do we not know this man isn't one of them?” Edmund puffed, breath wheezing in his throat as the exertion became too much for him, but he pushed through it.

You frowned at your brother, then looked at the man, and studied his pale face. Something in your gut told you he wasn't a collaborator or one of the enemies inflicting war on so much of Europe and Humanity.

“We don't.” You murmured, biting the corner of your lip. “However, I just feel that he's not.”

“Oh, you feel it.” Edmund huffed, mocking you. “Well, let's go on a woman's intuition.”

“There's no need to be crass, Edmund.” You barked at him, irritated by his remark. “You have no more evidence that he is, than I do that he's not. But you can't tell me if he was one of them, they'd not have called the patrol to come out and look for him by now.”

Refraining from answering for a short time, to save his breath, while you moved him to the edge of the beach. Resting him beside some brush and rocks that were there, Edmund finally answered you, wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve.

“Aye, you're right. I don't think they would have left him.” He sighed, staring down at him, still troubled by the situation. “I'll be back. But if you see a patrol coming, don't try saving him. Just turn and walk away.” He told you, grasping your wrist and staring hard into your eyes. “Let them have him.”

“He's not worth your life.” He said, his eyes pleading with you.

“Go, get your truck.” You answered, softly.

Rolling his eyes, Edmund headed back towards home, walking at a quick pace, but not fast enough to hopefully draw any attention or suspicion. He turned the corner onto the street your family lived on. You and your father, Mael, lived in the cottage across the road from where your brother lived with his wife, Willa. He said a silent prayer, finding the street empty, minus a few vehicles, including his truck, that he used for his trade as a handyman.

“This is going to get us killed.” Edmund muttered to himself, pulling open the driver's door and sliding into the worn, black and leather bench seat, then pulled down the sun visor for the keys.

The truck roared to life and Edmund maneuvered it away from the curb, nervously drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I could have been a Private in the Army, fighting in Belgium or some place. Maybe even join the Rebellion, help liberate this country.” He rambled, gritting his teeth. “But no! I get stuck with a medical condition and a sister that wants to save some bloke that could be a Collaborator!”

You paced nervously, giving the man quick glances, then shooting a look towards the road, mentally urging your brother to hurry. It felt like every eye in the village was secretly watching you. You wouldn't be surprised if at least three pairs were watching from some high window. But you didn't dare look at any of the windows that lined the other side of the road from the beach. Knowing if you did happen to meet someone's nosy eye, it would only implicate them later on, if you and Edmund were caught.

“Thank Jesus.” You gasped, hearing the rumble of your brother's truck coming up the road, though it did little to dampen your anxiety.

Edmund pulled his truck to a stop and got out, never killing the engine as he moved to the back, dropping the tailgate. “Is he still alive?” He asked, coming over to you and glancing at the man.

“Yeah.” You nodded, biting your lip. “I can actually see his chest rise now.”

“Great.” Edmund sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “Looks like the fool is going to live.” He said, grabbing him under the arms again. “Let's get him in the truck. Rounds are going to start soon.”

You grabbed his feet and helped haul him over to the bed of the truck. It was a bit of a hassle, but the two of you finally managed to get your mystery man in and covered up with a couple of the cloth drop tarps Edmund used for work, making sure he was able to breathe. It was just as Edmund was securing the gate closed, that the hard tap of a boot heel echoed down the street towards the two of you, causing your stomach wrench and Edmund to grunt; catching sight of the Patrol Officer through the back window and windshield.

“It's just the kid.” He muttered to you, under his breath. “Go, get in the trunk.” He told you, taking a deep breath.

“Ed-”

“I said, go.” He hissed, the muscles of his jaw flexing.

Gulping and trying to act casual, you walked around to the passenger side, yanking open the heavy door, as the young Patrol Officer reached the truck's front bumper. You gave him a sweet smile and a nod of your head, then slipped into the cab and pulled the door shut. So he couldn't start a conversation with you. He stopped by the window of the driver's door, giving you a wide and overexcited smile, then turned his attention to Edmund.

“A good morning, yeah?” He greeted your brother, who had started for the driver's seat.

“Yeah.” Edmund replied, glancing up at the sky. “Looks like a very good morning, indeed.” He said, grabbing the door handle.

“Truck?” The officer motioned, a questioning look on his face.

“It's my truck.” Edmund answered, frowning at him, not quite understanding.

“What's—in?” He asked, trying hard to work through the language barrier.

“My trade tools.” Edmund told him, turning to face him, putting himself between the younger man and the truck. “I'm a carpenter.” He tried to explain, reaching into the back and pulled out his tool belt, holding it up for him to see.

“Ah.” The Officer nodded, smiling. “And, that?” He asked, pointing to the tarps.

“Nothing.” Edmund said, setting his belt down. “She...” He pointed over to you. “Found a dead seal out on the beach and pestered me into taking it away, before any of the village kids found it.” He hoped to convince him and prayed he wouldn't want to take a look. But, that worry soon passed, watching the kid blanch.

“Yeah, you go.” He gulped, taking a step back, as if he had gotten a whiff of the dead seal underneath the tarps.

“Well, have a good day.” Edmund smiled, giving him a small wave and yanked his door open.

“That took a moment.” You muttered as he slammed his door.

“He was asking questions, that's why.” He huffed back, glancing into the rear view and relaxing as he watched the kid continue on with his Patrol, not look back at you. “Luckily for us, he's squeamish.”

“How does someone that's squeamish get drafted?” You commented, shaking your head.

“Well, he's not really doing anything in the War, now is he?” Edmund snapped, glancing over at you, an offended glint in his eyes. “He's a damn Patrol Officer for a town his Country is occupying. He's not seeing any of the real action.”

“I'd laugh to think if they let his rifle have bullets in it.”

You snorted, bringing your hand to your mouth, in an attempt to cover it. “I'm sorry.” You said, when Edmund shot you a look. “But that boy does look like he'd injure himself with a pocketknife.” You explained, staring back at your brother, who held his angered expression for three seconds longer, then burst, filling the cab with his hearty laugh.

Edmund could never be angry with you, or not longer than a few minutes at least. The two of you were ten years apart, but were closer than pearls in an oyster. Edmund had been planned by your parents, well mostly by your mother, who thought a child would help your father snap out of his shell shock from his time in the First World War. But having a screaming child in the house had only seemed to exacerbate it. Until Edmund was four years old, when he started to show an interest in Mael's metals and memorabilia.

As for you, as Edmund always put it, seemed to have just shown up one day.

He didn't remember your mother being pregnant, only her going away for a few days and coming back home with you in her arms. He remembered her rushing about the house every time you made the slightest sound and telling him to make sure you didn't cry. Which, honestly, wasn't all that often. You had been a quiet and easy baby, compared to him. But he looked after you, showing you his favorite metals of your father's, and telling you how he had gotten them in the War.

When you were five and Edmund was fifteen, the two of you came home one day from school to find your father in one of his episodes and your mother gone. Edmund had sent you next door to stay with a neighbor, while he worked on calming your father down and found out your mother had been seeing someone and ran off with them. It took Edmund calling your father's doctor to finally calm him down, giving him a sedative. The physician had suggested moving somewhere else, that the city life was too much for Mael's nerves, somewhere quiet and abundant with sea air. That would do him a world of good.

That's how the three of you ended up in your quaint, coastal village on the French side of the English Channel. It had a population of just under five hundred. A real, everyone-knows-everyone community. They welcomed the three of you warmly. It's where Edmund had met and fell in love with Willa. It's where the four of you were now under the thumb of German occupation, and with a strange man in the bed of your brother's truck, just passing by the last building and into the rolling hills, that took you to the nearest town.

“All right, wise woman.” Edmund sighed, folding his arms against the steering wheel and leaning forward. “What's your grand plan on getting your Robinson Crusoe into the house?” He asked, cocking a brow at you and dying to hear it.

You had sat beside your brother for the last twenty minutes trying to figure out that very plot point. Part of you really wished whoever this man was, would do the two of you a favor and come back around to consciousness. Then, maybe, you could just say you found him injured on the side of the road and help him into the house. However, you knew if that happened, word would spread and the Director General would be knocking on your door, demanding to see him.

“I don't have one.” You finally admitted. “I shouldn't have gotten us into this mess, Edmund. Maybe, we should just turn him in?”

“Oh no!” He snapped at you, straightening up. “That one Patrol Officer already thinks he's a dead seal! If we go back into the village and confess, we'll be in deeper hot water than if we'd been up front.” He rambled, dragging both hands through his hair, in his agitation.

“Could we keep him in the truck til night fall?” You suggested, weakly.

“And if he wakes up by then?” He asked, blowing a hole through it.

You sighed softly, glancing down at your hands as they rested in your lap, but frowned seeing the brownish outline of dry blood on the light blue fabric. You were rubbing at it, when an idea finally popped into your head and looked over at Edmund.

“How heavy are all of your tarps rolled up together?” You asked him, lifting a brow, curiously.

“They can be pretty hefty.” He replied, rubbing the underside of his scruffy jaw.

“So, it would be almost believable, say we carry him into the house, wrapped in a few, under the pretense we're making a couple renovations to the house?” You inquired, your eyes steady on your brother's face. “It's not like we and the village don't know that Papa and I's cottage need them.”

“Badly.”

Edmund sat there, staring out the windshield, as he processed the likelihood of your little idea working. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, pressing his top lip down on it for a moment, before popping them forward, a slow wag of his head building into a nod.

“It might work.” He finally said, convincing himself of it. “I'll have to bring in a few of my tools and spend some time there every day, to make it look like I'm actually putting the work in.” He built on top of your plan. “Of course, I'm not leaving you and Pops with this guy, so I'll be coming over anyway.”

“We could use the old cellar room in the basement to hide him.” You chimed in. “In case, someone from the Patrol or anyone from the village comes over.”

“That's a good idea.” Edmund nodded, licking his lips. “I can build something, along that wall, for a hidden door into the cellar.” He said, already mapping out the plans in his head. “This could actually work, Peanut!” He grinned over at you.

“There's the confidence I love seeing in my Captain!” You beamed back, slapping him on the knee. “We should get going too. It looks like our beautiful morning is turning into a dark afternoon.” You said, peeking at the sky. “I'm worried it'll start raining on our friend back there.”

“Oh, he's our friend now?” Edmund teased you, pushing open his door. “We don't even know his name! But, by damned, he's our friend!”

You smirked at him, shaking your head. “I'm just trying to be positive, Eddie.”

“I know.” He replied, a gentle smile on his face, as he reached over to playfully pinch your cheek.

“Quit!” You laughed, slapping his hand away. “You brute!”

“We should do it here. Where no one can see us.” He suggested, heaving a sigh as he got out.

“That's a smart idea.” You nodded, following suit.

Edmund did a quick look around, before dropping the tailgate and hopping into the bed, beside your friend. You peeked over the side of the trunk, watching Edmund pull away the tarp from him, and let out a small breath of relief to see him still breathing. But frowned seeing the small pool of blood underneath him.

“I'll need new tarps after this.” Edmund commented, snarkily. “There's nothing I can say to explain blood stains on them. Short of sawing my arm off.”

“I'll compensate you for them.” You replied, pulling yourself up beside him.

“With what money, exactly?” He asked, cocking a brow at you.

“Hey, I get a decent enough salary working at Remi's store.” You cut back at him. “I've been helping you keep food on our tables.”

Edmund nodded, not about to discredit you on that. “True enough, Peanut.” He replied, then returned to the task at hand. “I'm going to turn him to his good side. I want you to support him and his head, while I situate the tarps to go underneath him.” He instructed you, carefully pushing his hands underneath the injured man.

You nodded, as Edmund grunted with effort to lift and roll him towards you. Grabbing onto the thigh of his pants and cradling his head in your palm, you watched Edmund spread and straighten out the tarps, draping one half of them over the side of the truck. You could feel his faint and warm breath on your forearm, coming in an irregular pattern, but it gave you an odd comfort to feel it, nonetheless.

“All right, that's all of them. Put him down on his back again.” Edmund pointed to the smoothed out tarps as he stood outside the truck now.

Biting your lip, you pushed up on your knees and leaned forward, trying to roll him onto his back as gently as possible. Unsure of how much he could feel. You didn't want to cause him any more pain than necessary as you situated him, catching a slight twitch of his brow as you let go of his trousers, only supporting his head.

“Sorry.” You mumbled to him, automatically, wincing.

“Come on, let's get him covered up, so we can go.” He rushed you, feeling antsy and the cool, damp air stir around him, indicating the imminent rain.

Tenderly letting go of his head and reaching out for the other half of the tarp, you carefully covered him up, tucking it in around him, mindful of the still seeping wound, while trying to make it not look so much like a body in a rug. Nodding at Edmund, you climbed back out of the truck and he rearranged some of his tools, hoping to add to the disguise.

“Here's to hopin'!” Edmund huffed, starting the truck and backing off the outlook, he'd pulled onto after putting several minutes between you and the village. “Or all three of us will be dead seals!”

You and Edmund laughed, having a light moment, before the village came into view and the sobering resolve of action came back over you.

[cardierreh15]

Double Stuffed

Oreo’s aren’t the only thing that are double stuffed around these parts 😌 enjoy

***I do not give anyone permission or my consent to repost, translate or copy my work!

Warnings 18+: 3️⃣ sum, Cursing , Voyuerism , Oral Sex (Male Receiving) , Nipple Stimulation , Squirting , Facial , Penetration (Vaginal 🤟🏾) PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

Pairings: Gus March-Phillips(Henry Cavill) x Black!Plus Size Female(Regina) x Anders Lassen(Alan Ritchson)

Special Guest: Betty 💕 @augustsprincess

Description: Regina has the time of her life!

Word Count: 3.8K

‘Oh girl c’mon it’ll be fun!’ Betty exclaimed as she tugged Regina’s hands, pulling her in the direction of the pub that was booming with country music, soldiers in uniform lingering about.

‘Betty!’ She snatched her hand away, watching Betty stumble before once again gaining her footing. ‘Girl, my daddy is in the service! What if someone saw me in there!’ She whined out.

Her small friend pursed her lips together hard, dusting off her polka dotted dress in frustration and running her slender fingers through her freshly done candy curls.

‘Your daddy-‘ she said the words with bitterness. ‘Ain’t here.’ She let out a loud sigh and placed her hands on her hips, ‘Look. I know you’ve been under the weather since the death of your fiancé and—‘

‘Oooh—‘ Regina rolled her eyes, interrupting Betty. She let out a humorless scoff, ‘is this what this shit is about?! Getting me out of the house?!’

Betty gave her a look in bewilderment, glancing to the side with her hands remaining on her hips, ‘Uh yeah? Listen, let’s just treat it as a girl’s night?’ She walked up to her friend and draped her arm across her shoulders. ‘Look at these tall, delicious specimens huh?’ She waved her free hand slowly in the air. ‘Sure you could take one home!’

She was challenging her.

Regina glanced over at her friend and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, ‘Oh Betty, I don’t know. This is a bar full of… crazy, nut jobs … pent up from rage, exhaustion, … lust.’

‘Mmmhmm?’ Betty egged on with an encouraging nod.

‘M-maybe we should—‘

‘That’s my girl!’ Betty exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air before clasping them together happily. ‘See I knew you couldn’t stand a chance! Come on!’ Betty snatched up her friend’s hand and led the way towards the stairs. ‘I promise if you feel unsafe or it just gets too wild in here— we’ll leave!’

‘Mmph, say you swear.’ Regina retorted, stopping the both of them in their tracks. Her pretty brown eyes glistened beneath the pretty bulbs that hung above them.

‘Cross my heart,’ Betty turned halfway and drew an ‘X’ over her chest, ‘Hope to die. Now. Can we go inside?’ She jerked her head towards the door.

Her stoic glare instantly shifted into something lighter, her grin spread across her face, ‘OK fine let’s go.’

The two women walked inside of the bar, hand in hand. The place was only lit by some old lamps that were screwed into the walls, and one old rusted chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Honestly, if it weren’t for that old thing, you’d have to squint to look at folks.

‘Wow! Look at this place!’ Betty beamed as she placed her hand over cleavage. ‘It’s amazing.’

Regina’s brows tugged into one, ‘Are we looking at the same place?’

‘Oh Regina, don't be so judgemental! Look at all this … man meat.’ Betty giggled and glanced over at the bar. ‘Let’s go get a drink in ya? Help you… mellow out a lil bit.’

Without an ounce of warning, Betty led the way towards the bar.

It wasn’t until their stroll when whistles began to fill the air. Mumbling and cat calling could be heard throughout the loud hymns of the music.

Both of the women were beautiful in their own right. Betty was blonde, with perfect porcelain skin. She had a slender figure but the waist of her dress seemed to emphasize the curves in her hips and the one on her rump.

Regina had skin that was brown as terracotta. Glowing like bronze when in the path of the sun. Her hair was dark as the shadows of night, patterned with tight curls and coils that cascaded down her back. She wore a black velvet bodycon dress that also enhanced her curves, dimples and hip dips.

When they made it to the bar, the barkeeper seemed to be startled for a second.

‘Ladies—‘ he stammered and quickly placed the rag and glass down upon the bar top. ‘Aren’t you two beauties a sight for sore eyes,’ he spoke in a heavy accent. And by the knot in his bottom lip, his tobacco was the reason for his twang. ‘What can I do you for?’

Betty gave him a charming grin, batting her thick dark lashes. She was bashful and convivial by nature. ‘Hi there. Can you pour me and my friend somethinggg… pungent? Thank you.’

Regina snapped her head over at her friend, glaring at her with eyes of astonishment. ‘Betty!’ She hissed, quickly snatching her wrist up in her palm.

‘Whaaat?’

‘Pungent? Really? I would like to know how we get home, please.’ She muttered.

‘Oh please stop being dramatic! What’s the point of coming out tonight if we can’t make the best of it? Relax.’

Finally tearing her eyes away, Regina looked to her right to scope out the room. Men of all colors and sizes were either looking in their direction, laughing and gambling or drinking til their hearts were content.

This really didn’t feel like a safe place at all.

When the barkeeper brought their drinks back, Betty pulled up her small clutch, ‘How much do I owe you sir?’

‘Nothing at all ma’am.’ He said, raising his hand. ‘The gentleman over there is willing to pay for your tab.’

Both of the women looked back at the mysterious male, whose bright blue eyes spoke before his lips did. He sported a thick mustache over his lips with his dark hair combed back to perfection. He stood to his feet, adjusting his brown slacks around his hips. His coat was decorated in pretty devices and ribbons. Some big hot shot.

He looked like he wanted to snap her in half. She was small enough to make that accomplishment.

‘Oooh. Regina?’

‘Yeah?’ Regina said as she stared at the handsome hunk of man that approached them.

‘I think you might have to busy yourself for the rest of the night.’ Betty quickly scooted off the wooden bar stool and knocked back her freshly poured whiskey. And in no time, the gentleman was towering over little Betty like a skyscraper.

Regina gasped, ‘Betty—‘

‘Miss?’ The barkeeper interrupted.

She snapped her head over at him at his call.

‘It appears you have secret admirers of your own.’

Her thick brows pulled into one as she sat up straight. ‘M-me?’ Plural? ‘Admirers? Who?’

The barkeeper glanced over to the corner of the room.

Her anxious eyes followed his gaze to the far right corner of the room. There sat two freakishly large men beneath a flickering yellow light.

One donned a large beard with a curled and dramatic mustache. His hair was curly and pushed back except one strand that dangled against his forehead.

The other had a clean shaven face with dirty blonde combed back hair. A set of round lenses sat on the bridge of his nose.

If their gaze had been daggers, she’d be dead.

‘Both. Of them?’ Regina hushed out.

‘You see em both lookin’ don’t cha?’

She swallowed her spit so hard she thought there was a lump there. She looked over at Betty who was getting more than acquainted with her new beau. Giggling and smiling like brand new love birds. Their whispers and flirts couldn’t be heard over the music.

‘Betty? There’s two! What do I do!?’ She was quite the neophyte when it came to things like this. Often men, one at a time, had courted her but two?! What would she do with two of them?!

Well, she would soon find out that she could do a lot more with two than she could do with just one.

Her friend looked over at her and gave her a wink.

Before she could coax an answer out of Betty, she felt the heavy warmth of their presence standing behind her.

Betty let out an excited giggle as her attractive stranger nibbled on her exposed neck.

Regina’s back stiffened with her legs crossed, unknowingly arching and causing her rump to stick out beneath her.

‘Excuse our intrusion Miss… but it would be great pleasure if you accepted our invitation to join us in our room this evening.’

The English accent was thick yet, blended with pure charm. His voice settled and nestled in the crevices in her brain.

She swallowed hard once again and lifted her shaky hand to scoop up the whiskey glass. Pressing it to her lips, she thought for a second.

If she took a sip of this drink, there was no going back! Ain’t no telling what these two strangers planned on doing to her once they were behind closed doors.

But perhaps, maybe this is what she needed. Her late fiancé had been gone for 1 year now and she couldn’t hang on to that forever. During her stage of grieving, she’d worked tirelessly to keep herself busy.

She deserved it!

Even if it meant getting torn to shreds by these two … delicious specimens.

Regina smirked at the barkeeper and knocked back the whiskey that burned her stomach profusely. She blinked hard before swallowing down the pain and courageously spun in her stool.

When her eyes had finally met theirs, she felt a pang in her chest. By the Heavens! Bless their mothers for carrying such prodigious of boys.

‘Oh!’ She placed her hand bosom. ‘My— you are big men.’

A smile curled up on their lips before they looked at one another knowingly.

‘Do you accept our offer, Miss?’ The blonde one spoke up. His accent was much different from the original one she’d heard.

She looked over at Betty who was now sporting her beau’s service cap and locking lips with him.

Well, Betty was having the time of her life. What kind of person would she be if she took their free drink and left?

What would your daddy say?

Fuck your daddy.

You deserve this, Regina. Go have fun.

Uncrossing her legs, she carefully slid off of the chair and adjusted her dress at the thighs. ‘I accept.’

They grinned in sync, showing off their darling smiles. It caused a knot to tie in her gut. By God they had to be angels sent from up above.

They turned as they both lended her their arms for her to grasp. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and her neck as she reached out to grab their biceps.

‘Oh my—‘ she giggled as she squeezed them both. ‘Such strong men I got! I’m a lucky girl.’ Regina purred as she looked up at the bearded one. ‘Shall we?’

‘We shall.’

***

They stared down at her with a desire only men in this time could only have.

Regina gripped the silk sheets in her sweaty fists as their studious glares began to roam her curvaceous body. Starting from her pink painted toes, her thick thighs, her hips and tummy, her breasts and finally… her pretty round, chunky face.

The woman felt like she was under a damn microscopic lense with how they were staring at her. Her thigh bounced vigorously. She couldn’t tell if they wanted to eat her or dissect her. Regardless, it scared the shit out of her.

‘Lassen?’ The fellow with the beard said softly.

‘Yes sir?’

Sir? Did these two work with one another?

‘You may start.’

‘Wait— wait…’ Regina called out first as the bearded one walked towards the floral embroidered chair and shrugged off his coat. ‘Could I know your names? I mean— I would like to know who I’m letting into my lady bits.’ She said humorously.

The one known as Lassen looked back at his comrade. And they gave one another a firm nod in approval.

‘My name is Anders Lassen and this is Gus March-Phillips. What is your name lovely?’

Anders and Gus. Should be able to remember that.

‘My name is Regina Carson…’

‘Mmm. Very pretty name, for a very pretty woman.’ Gus said as he began to unbutton his dress shirt.

An enamored grin curled up on her lips as her tongue gently grazed her pretty smile.

Her eyes then darted up to meet Anders as he pushed off his suspenders and pulled his tucked shirt from inside of his trousers. He then pulled the fitted shirt over his head and dropped it to the side of the bed.

Good lord, he had the body of a God. Muscles ripped and tight. Her mouth went to salivating almost immediately.

Grabbing her hand, he lifted her up to her feet and brought her body flush against his. He lifted her chin, bringing her lips up to meet his in a kiss.

Regina’s eyes fluttered closed as she purred at the welcoming warmth of his lips. At first, it was just him testing the waters but she quickly fell into place; opening her mouth allowing him to invade as he pleased.

Anders snaked his hands behind her, finding the fine zipper and dragging it down.

Suddenly, she felt the warmth of another set of lips on the nape of her neck. Regina tore her lips away from Anders as he began to help her out the sleeves of her dress. Her head lulled back against Gus’ shoulder before he brought her mouth into a kiss next. And just like Anders, she opened her mouth nice and wide for him.

His beard and mustache tickled her lips and cheeks.

Before she knew it, the three of them were fully nude.

The both of them stroked at their members; aching to feel how warm she was from the inside out. But first…

Gus carefully forced Regina to her knees before them. Her eyes grew in slight shock at the size of their members. Both uncut, veiny and hard enough to slice through bricks.

‘You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, sweetheart.’ Gus said as his fingertips caressed her cheek softly before pushing her thick hair behind her ear.

‘No. I wanna.’ She shuddered out before sitting up on her knees, wrapping her hand around Anders cock and her lips around Gus.

Both of the men let out a pleasant groan in unison as she massaged one and sucked the other.

Careful not to show one too much attention though, she alternated and began to suck Anders off while stroking Gus. Anders’ knees buckled as she began to throat him just the same as she did with Gus.

‘Ugh, fuck.’

‘Just like that.’

The boys groaned at her teasing. She did everything she could to please them. Tightening up her lips, gagging against their cocks when they touched the back of her throat, squeezing and massaging their balls delicately. At her rate, they both would be making a mess of her in no time!

‘Stop.’ Gus grunted as he carefully pulled his hips away from her warm mouth. He shuddered before letting out a sigh. ‘Anymore of that and I’ll explode. Up.’

At his command, she placed her hand in his as she stood to her feet. ‘Anders… you first. I’d like to watch.’

‘As you wish.’ Anders said with a devious smirk.

Watch?! While she’s never done something this spontaneous and … sinful, she had no idea people were into watching other people fuck. But if it were to please her boys… she’d do whatever they asked.

She watched him walk over to the same chair and plop down; his hard dick swaying and slapping against his thigh.

‘Bend over, darling. Feel free to tap me if it’s too much. I will stop.’

Regina giggled as she bent over the bed. ‘Too much? Please.’

Spreading her thick thighs apart, Anders took a hold of his member and pressed it at her sticky entrance.

With a quick thrust, he stretched her against her will.

The poor woman let out a wail that was mixed with pleasure and undeniable pain.

Perhaps she spoke too soon.

Tears brimmed her eyes as she held her breath for a second, gripping the cool satin sheets.

Anders let out a blissful moan, holding himself deep inside of her as his large hands caressed up and down her curves and folds.

Gus had one leg draped over one arm over the couch as he stroked at his member, watching with excitement in his eyes and an intrigued smirk on his lips.

‘Fuck!’ Regina cried out before she felt him slam himself into her once more, his fingertips digging into her waist. ‘Dear God! Ah!’

A few thrusts and Regina was able to take this intruder comfortably now. With her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she thought she was seeing stars already.

Anders began to pound into her hard and fast before reaching down to grip her hair in his fist. ‘Yeah. Call out to him baby. He can’t save you now.’

She looked up at him through her thick lashes. ‘Ooooh— my god! Yes! Anders please!’ She pleaded as his body collided into hers relentlessly.

‘Oooh. Fuck, you feel so good baby. Take me. Take me baby.’ Anders hissed through his teeth.

‘Aaaaah yes!’

‘Fuuuck, nicely done Anders. Show her what you’re made of.’ Gus grumbled as he reached his free hand beneath himself and squeezed his tender balls.

Hissing through her gritted teeth, she looked over to watch Gus get himself off. His chest and biceps tense as he stroked his girthy, thick cock. Such a beautiful sight.

Anders pulled Regina’s hair, making her stand up straight against him. He wrapped his large veiny hand around her throat, forcing her into a disgusting kiss. His thrusts became a little slower and forgiven as one hand cupped her breast and his other arm wrapped around her waist, gripping her belly for stability.

When he broke the kiss, he began to ram his hips into her once again as her breathing hitched and strained. ‘Hoooo— yes, yes, yes!’

Finally, Gus stood from his seat and approached them. He landed a slap on Ander’s ass and jerked his head to the side. ‘Don’t be stingy, Lassen. She’s ours.’

Ours.

Anders groaned in dismay but obeyed. Landing one more kiss on Regina’s mouth, he retracted his hips and took place on the bed; propped up on his knees.

Gus looked down at the woman with gentle eyes, ‘tap out of it becomes too much sweetie.’ He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips before sucking her bottom lip between his teeth gently.

Drunken with lust and pleasure, Regina dizzily plopped down on her back and spread her thighs for him.

‘Aren’t you a pretty sight? Might have to give you a son… or marry you? What do you think, Lassen?’

Anders laughed darkly as he scooted down so his still erected cock was pressed against her cheek. ‘Pretty indeed. Now open up doll… I wanna see you put those pretty lips to work while you’re getting fucked.’

His words caused her to writhe in excitement. Her core was aching to be filled once more. She lifted her head and parted her lips as she guided his cock back into the home of her mouth.

Gus sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he pushed her thighs back and pushed his tip inside of her and began to slowly roll his hips into her.

Closing her eyes, Regina hummed against Anders cock causing a vibration to rumble at the back of her throat. ‘Ohh—‘ his head fell back as his hand held onto the back of her head. ‘Fuck! You’re so tight.’ He swallowed as he reached down toying and pinching at her hardened nipples.

Gus began to pick up the pace, his finger tips digging in her plushy flesh tightly. Forcing her thighs back as he delved his hips into her once more. He then reached down and began to rub at her erected nub softly.

‘Fuck! You look so pretty with Anders dick in your mouth.’

Anders groaned as he thrusted his hips forward into Regina’s mouth; anglelessly hitting all the spots in her warm, wet mouth.

‘Mmmm—‘ Regina cooed as she pulled her lips away to curse, using her hand to jerk off Anders. ‘Fuck, Gus! Please!’ She begged, her thighs twitched at the creeping sensation.

Gus thrusted fast as he rubbed her clit in circles a little faster.

‘Gus! Oh, my god!’ Her thighs began to tremble as she felt her womb tighten up. Her body stiffened and her chest tightened. Gus stilled his hips and focused on her. ‘I’m gonna—‘ Her back arched and her toes curled as the heat in her body popped off like fireworks on new years.

She released a scream that could be heard throughout the hotel. And with that scream, came a sudden burst from her loins. She exploded like a damaged fire hydrant.

Gus looked up at Anders in surprise and Anders returned the glare.

‘Whoa—‘ both of the men laughed in darkly.

‘Have you ever done that?’ Anders asked with a grin spread across his lips.

‘Quite a few times.. you?’

‘Once.’

‘Well, we shall see if we can get a few more out of her, yes?’

‘I’m with you sir.’

While both of the men experienced this kind of mess, she never experienced a pleasure so great. Her head throbbed as she tried to process what the fuck just happened. Her cheeks remained hot to the touch, her trembling lips sore from all of their sweet, heavy kisses.

‘Brace yourself sweetheart. We aren’t done with you yet.’

Anders and Gus laughed beguilingly as their large hands caressed over her sticky, brown flesh.

A glint of thrill shown in her sex-crazed eyes. She was hyped. ‘O-OK!’

With the stamina of these two men, Regina was sure she lost enough weight to fit into her graduation gown from high school.

She was fucked into exhaustion and dehydration, so she was relieved when they both announced their arrivals.

‘On the floor baby. Yeah— fuck look at you.’ Ander groaned as the both of them helped her to her knees.

‘Open wide baby.’ Gus added as they both began to stroke their members until they reached their climax.

Regina’s eyes gleamed, her hands massaging their muscular thighs that tensed and squeezed beneath her touch. She opened her mouth, tongue out to capture those sacred drops.

‘UGH! Ba—‘

‘Fuuuuuck… yes!’

The two men groaned aloud as they emptied themselves upon her pretty face and mouth. Wrapping her hands around the both of them, she squeezed and coaxed the rest of their nut out of them.

Gus’ knees buckled as his eyes rolled back halfway. Then, she gave them both a kiss on the tip of their now flaccid dicks.

Anders let out an exhausted sigh. ‘Oh. What do we do with you now.’

‘Well…’ Gus added, ‘I have quite a few ideas.’ He trailed off.

Wiping her face and flicking off the sticky semen, she looked up at them in horror.

Now what?

2 years later…

Regina clamped her eyes shut tight as she rested her lower hand on her lower back. ‘Ooh… my days.’ She rubbed at the roundness of her belly with her free hand, as the other carried out a metal tray of fresh lemonade and a couple glasses of ice.

She walked out to the backyard to see Anders flipping burgers at the grill with his “Kiss the Cook” apron on while Gus tossed a football to Betty’s husband, August. Betty was bouncing her sweet baby boy in her arms, showering him with kisses and love.

This was the life.

A smile curled on her lips when Anders sweet, gentle eyes landed on her. ‘Let me grab this for you.’ He rushed over and carefully took hold of the tray and placed it on the picnic table. ‘How’s my girls huh?’

‘The same as yesterday, Lassen.’ She sighed heavily and rubbed her pregnant belly, ‘Tired. Aching.’

‘Aw. I know sweetheart. Just a few more weeks.’ He said before placing a kiss on her head. ‘Sit.’

Gus sat the football down in the lush green grass and jogged towards the deck. ‘There’s my girl. Hey, mama.’ He mused as he placed a kiss on her lips. ‘How are you feeling?’

Regina pressed her lips together and glanced over at her other husband.

Anders stared at Gus for a little bit and chuckled, ‘To save you from her wringing your neck … she’s feeling the same as she did yesterday.’

Gus sighed softly, ‘Oh my sweet. Forgive me for asking. Is there anything you need?’

She shook her head as her head fell back against the lawn chair. ‘No my darlings… I’m fine.’

Regina closed her eyes for a long second before feeling a sudden wetness in her bottom.

Her eyes flashed open.

‘Boys.. I don’t think I’m peeing myself again…’

Tags: @peternoonewantsthat @wa-ni @ellethespaceunicorn @milknhonies @the-kanamori @viking-raider

[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. 

[hencvl]

i think I'll start a fic about him too

[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?” 

[holylulusworld]

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare masterlist

Gus March-Philipps Masterlist

Anders Lassen Masterlist

[livesinfantasyland]

Gus March Phillips x Spy Reader

More mood boards

[changenameno]

My Masterlist 📚

Hi there lovelies!!!❤️✨

here you will find all my future fan-fictions and I will add to them gradually. Though I will probably only write for Henry Cavill and his characters.

This is still very much a 18+ blog, so if you are not of age please go away. Thank you.

Taglist:

If you're interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me! ❤️✨

Fluff🙊- Drabble⏱️- Smut❣️- Angst🃏- One-shots🍪

Little Tease - Henry Cavill x Fem. Reader (Complete) ❣️🙊🍪

Fingerblast - Sy x Short Fem. Reader (Complete)

Part 1 , Part 2🙊❣️

Shower Head - Sy x Fem. Reader (Complete)

Part 1 ❣️, Part 2❣️🙊

Sugarplum, then? - Sy x Fem. Reader (Complete) ❣️🍪

Sausage - Sy x Fem. Reader, August Walker x Fem. Reader (Complete)❣️🙊🍪

My Own - Geralt x Fem. Nymph Reader (Ongoing)

Chapter 1 🃏, Chapter 2🃏, Chapter 3 🃏,

Chapter 4 🃏, Chapter 5 🃏 🙊, Chapter 6🙊,

Chapter 7 🙊,

Ready, set…oh? - August Walker & Fem. Reader (Complete)

Part 1 🃏🙊, Part 2🙊

Bitter Truth - August Walker & Fem. Reader (Complete) 🃏🍪

To Be, Or Not To Be - August Walker x Fem. Reader (Complete) 🃏🙊❣️🍪

Wild Ride - Walter Marshall x Fem. Reader (Complete)

Part 1🙊, Part 2 🙊❣️, Part 3 🙊❣️

The Thief - Walter Marshall x Fem. Reader (Complete)❣️🙊🍪

It’s been a long time… - Gus March-Phillips x Fem. Reader (Complete)

Part 1 🃏🙊, Part 2 🃏❣️🙊

Gym Master - Clark Kent x Curvy Fem. Reader (Complete)❣️🙊🍪

[peyton-warren]

A small teasing snippet from my upcoming series The Art of Resilience because I am so amused by it.

There was a hinge rattling knock on the door. “I swear to god, Gus, I will stab you myself,” you call as Anders hid his adoring giggles in your neck.

“My apologies,” came the voice on the other side of the glass.

Interested in more? Check #the art of Resilience tag

[viking-raider]

SALT IN OUR WOUNDS - CHAPTER V

Summary-> After being found out by the Patrol, you try to act the part, to lower the suspension on Gus's presence.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III IV

Warnings-> PG-13: AU, Language, Deception, References to WWII, Use of the word Nazi.

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction, pulled from my imagination.

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

With the officers gone, Gus helped you to your feet, gently cradling your arm in his hands to look at the steadily bruising print on your bicep. His brows creased, as anger at the officer's roughness with you filled him again and guilt for getting you into this mess consumed him. Laying a hand on his chest, you offered him a soft, reassuring smile, nodding your head slightly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, tracing the edge of the bruise with his thumb.

"It's not your fault, Gus." You cooed, brows pinching slightly. "It's not like you walked up here and asked us to take you in, We-" You looked at Edmund, who nodded at him. "took you in because we knew it was the right thing to do."

"So, he's not a worker from another village?" Your father's skeptical tone asked, as he regarded the three of you from his chair.

Edmund sighed heavily, rubbing the side of his face. "No, Pops. He's not." He answered, having not liked lying to your father to start with, despite it being needed at the time. Now he was going to have to ask something just as difficult. "She found Gus injured on the beach the other day, and we brought him in, so Dr. Tremblay could treat his wound. I know we told you he was working for me." He explained, moving across to sit beside him. "Now, however, the Patrol, and Trottier, think that Gus is her fiancé. We need to keep that story going. At least, until he's well again and, either they leave the area, or Gus can get back to where he needs to be."

"Can you do that, Papa?" You asked, frowning down at him, concerned for his well-being in the matter, knowing it was a lot asking your father to make merry with a random man who was pretending to be your future husband.

"Well, I have no choice in the matter, do I?" Mael answered, rubbing his shaky hands over his knees. "The mission has already been set up for me by the three of you. I'm just here as support."

"I'll make it as short a mission as possible." Gus replied, giving him a serious, but respectful, expression. "One Major, to another." He added, with a knowing glint in his blue eyes.

"I'll hold you to it." Mael stated, giving him a hard look.

"I guess there's no reason to finish the project downstairs." Edmund commented, sitting at the kitchen table with you and Gus, hands cupped around a fresh mug of coffee.

"Oh, I don't know." You chimed in, setting your tea down. "I really could use some shelves down there." You smirked, giving him a teasing expression.

Edmund gave you a squinty eyed look. "Use some shelves." He parroted, tapping the rim of his cup with his index finger. "Down-stairs."

"Mmhm." You nodded, brows going up, and giggling as Edmund's eyes flickered to Gus. "What are you looking at him for?"

"Wondering if he can get his fiancé under control." Edmund quipped, finally raising the coffee to his mouth.

"Well, I always heard, 'happy wife, happy life'." Gus answered, shifting in his seat, and glancing over at you. "So, if more shelves make her happy." He shrugged his shoulders, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Just because you give her everything she wants, doesn't mean she'll be happy." Edmund replied, an almost sour edge in his voice.

"Are you trying to compare me to Willamena?" You asked, cocking an offended brow at him.

Edmund finished off his coffee and pushed his chair back. "No." He said curtly, standing and striding over to the door, jerking his coat off the hook on the wall beside it. "I'll be back later." He huffed, going out.

"Is he all right?" Gus asked, look to you.

"Edmund will be fine." You sighed, shaking your head. "He and Willa, his wife, haven't been happy together in a very long time. So, it's a sore subject for him." You explained, getting up to take your and Edmund's cups to the sink, but glanced up at the clock. "I have to go down to the shop. We don't have anything for dinner in the refrigerator and I have to see when Remi wants me to work another shift."

"Is it far?" He inquired, coming up behind you and setting his own mug in the sink.

"No." You shook your head, biting your lip as you felt his intense warmth against your back. "Maybe a two minute walk."

"Why don't I go with you?" Gus suggested, cocking his head and smiling at you.

"Do you think you can manage with your wound?" You asked, a bit apprehensive. "I don't want you to over-extend yourself."

Gus's smile brightened and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "I'll be fine, I promise." He assured you, his thumb rubbing your wrist. "I could use the fresh air and sunshine. Plus, it'll help deter any of the Patrol, instead of making them more paranoid, if I stay inside a hundred percent of the time."

"You're right." You nodded, biting your lip, having not thought of what the Patrol would think of Gus staying hidden. "I'll get my shoes and something to wrap up in." You told him, before giving his hand a gentle pressure back.

"I'll wait for you here."

He let go of your hand and moved out of the way. Your cheeks felt warm as you hurried upstairs to grab your cardigan off the back of a chair in your room, pausing to fix your hair in the mirrored back of your vanity and spritz a bit of Soir de Paris. But you stopped, feeling silly.

"Acting like this is a date." You sighed, flustered, plopping down on your chair. fishing your shoes out from under the vanity and securing the buckles. "All right, I'm ready to go." You declared, coming back downstairs, finding Gus patiently waiting for you by the door.

"As am I." He answered, tipping his head politely, while pulling open the door.

"You mind her, Major." Mael called out to Gus, leaning forward in his chair to catch his eye.

"I would think of nothing less." Gus assured him, meeting your father's eye confidently. "I am her fiancé, after all." He quipped, with a wink, then followed you out. "Do we hold hands?" He asked, looking at you, but felt his heart kick at your startled reaction. "I'm only teasing you." He said softly, biting his lip.

"I know." You squeaked, flustered, before catching sight of your sister-in-law coming out of her home across the way. "Oh, that's Willa." You mumbled to Gus, before lifting your arm and waving to her.

"Morning, Willa!" You greeted her, grinning pleasantly.

Willa stared over at you and Gus, pulling a Rose-Tip out of her engraved case and her sky-blue enamel guilloche, sterling silver lighter from the front pocket of her knitted jumper. She didn't return your pleasant acknowledgement, instead lit her cigarette in a smooth and indifferent motion, eyes never moving off the two of you. Gus frowned, cocking a brow at her as he studied her standoffish demeanor; puzzled. She was just anti-social or if she was being rude.

"What’s her issue?" He asked you, his own eyes never leaving Willa.

"She's fine." You answered, sighing at your sister-in-law, your heart yearning to have a connection with her.

You had been excited upon hearing about Edmund courting someone; finally having another woman in the house to talk to, to share in the chores and just confide things to. Things you couldn't do with your father and brother.

However, from the moment you met, Willamena Badeaux had been distant from you.

She wasn't cold, per se, but she hadn't opened up with you either. Willa had been the first female in your close and personal circle, outside of the couple of elderly church ladies that would come over during the day. They would cook meals, clean the house, wash the laundry and just make sure you, Edmund and your father were well taken care of. After your mother had run off with her lover, the assistant shop clerk of the grocery store she frequented on her shopping trips. Which several of you figured were excuses to go and meet up with him; so she could cheat on your poor father.

But, the church women never went out of their way to be motherly or be a true confidant for you. Their love and friendship was out of pity. You were the little girl of a harlot and a mentally broken man, who could barely manage a job, dropping that weight onto his teenage son. So, when Willa came into the picture, you thought you would have a sister, not only to do sisterly things with, but to also learn how to be a woman. That's obviously not how it turned out.

She only came over to the house, if Edmund urged her to. She only held a conversation with you, if you were the one to start it and spurred it to keep going, otherwise she only spoke to Edmund or sat quietly. It only got worse, when the two of them married and moved into the cottage across the street from you and your father. Willa rarely came over for family dinners, meals you were still solely cooking for the four of you. Only occasionally getting a home cooked meal from her, after she and Edmund quarreled over her not performing her wifely duties and dropping the chores of two houses on you. As if you were their maid.

Part of you was sure, Willa detached from you, because she had been under the assumption Edmund only married her to be a mother figure to you. Not because he had been, once upon a time, madly in love with her.

"Do you need anything from the shop, Willa?" You asked, pulling yourself from sinking deeper into that emotional hole. "Gus and I are popping down there now." You explained, raising a hand and motioning to him, casually.

She stared at you for a long minute, before holding up her case, the sunlight glinting off the engraved bronze and mother of pearl. Nodding that you got the hint, you turned and started towards the center of town, with Gus following beside you. The sun was warm, heating the both of you, as well as the modest homes and buildings that lined the street, all converging on the limestone fountain round-a-bout in the middle of Saint-Thurney, spraying an arch of water from the top; a rainbow sparkling in the mist.

"This is really quite a quaint town." Gus commented, glancing about, following you across the sleepy street.

"It is." You replied, smiling up at him, proud of your little adoptive home. "It's almost like we're somewhere else entirely, instead of such a bustling and chaotic world." You told him, always feeling a sense of peace while in Saint-Thurney, even with a World War being waged around you and the town being occupied.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." You added softly, stopping beside Remi's General Store. "This is the place!" You declared, waving your hand at the store's front windows, plastered with advertisements for goods he sold inside, several crate displays lined the bottom of one window. "You'll like Remi, he's super sweet." You smiled, reaching out for the door handle, only to have Gus beat you to it.

"Allow me." He purred, pulling it open and standing aside, for you to go in first. "Only proper for your fiancé to open it for you."

You gulped, biting the inside of your lip. "Right." You nodded, clearing your throat. "You're right."

Composing yourself, you went inside, finding Remi at the only register with one of the residents, Mrs. Moulin, the Mayor's wife. They looked up at you and smiled, before their expressions twisted into apprehensive confusion, spotting Gus coming in behind you.

"Morning, Remi. Mrs. Moulin." You greeted them cheerily, while trying to keep casual, like there was nothing out of the ordinary for Gus to be there with you.

"Good morning." Mrs. Moulin addressed you, her eyes still on Gus, as if she expected him to lash out at everyone.

"Who is this?" Remi asked, ignoring his manners, unlike her.

"This is Gus." You grinned brightly, looking back at him and your breath catching in your throat at the feeling of him taking your hand. "He's my fiancé." You declared, heart racing in your chest.

Both Remi and Mrs. Moulin looked floored at the announcement, particularly Remi, who you had worked for for several years and knew you'd never mentioned having a male suitor. Let alone a fiancé! So, selling Remi on Gus being your betrothed was going to be one of the other hurdles you faced, on top of the Patrol and Director General.

"When did this happen?" Remi snapped, dumbfounded and looking almost outraged. "You never mentioned anything!"

Gus rested his free hand on the small of your back, his eyes taking the other man in, sizing him up. "Keeping me your own little secret, Peanut?" He asked, a sparkle coming into his eyes as he looked at you, bashfully.

A zing shot through you, hearing him call by your nickname, your skin breaking out in goosebumps. "I have been." You smirked, bashfully turning your face into his bicep.

"How did the two of you meet?" Remi asked, continuing his interrogation.

"We knew each other from before she moved here." Gus answered, surprising you on how casually he came up with the fabricated detail. "I reached out to her just after I enlisted, and well, I proposed to her a year ago." He stated, smiling at you and caressing your back with his thumb. "Thankfully, she said, yes."

"Would you have gotten yourself shot sooner, if I said no?" You teased him back, getting lost in the moment.

Gus grinned at you, amused, but he felt something deeper. "Definitely." He nodded slowly, his blue eyes soft.

Mrs. Moulin gasped, crossing herself. "You were shot?"

"Yes, madam. I was." Gus replied, tipping his head politely to her. "That's the reason I'm here, and not back in Belgium; fighting." He stated, lightly touching his wound. "This lovely gem is taking care of me." He cooed, touching his thumb to your chin with a wink, making your knees a little weak.

"I thank you, sir." Mrs. Moulin said, straighten her petite body, then glanced around the group. "Fighting those damn Nazis."

Your mouth fell open, surprised to hear the ordinarily prim and proper lady, curse. "Mrs. Moulin." You mumbled, in a state of shock.

"Well, it's true!" She huffed at you, gathering up her grocery bags. "I'm sick of them being in my town, marching about, like they own it."

"I'd be careful with what you say, Mrs. Moulin." Remi warned, as she moved for the door. "You never know who you can trust." He said, eyeing Gus.

"Luckily, everyone here is trustworthy." You chimed, with confused surprise. "Have a good day, Mrs. Moulin. Say hello to the Mayor for me."

"Oh, I will, my dear." She answered, reaching out to rest her hand on your arm, looking between you and Gus. "You make a beautiful couple. You must let my brother, Zane, marry you when the time comes." She said, with a sweet smile.

Your cheeks blazed at her words. "We'll put him at the top of consideration." You promised her, offering her your own soft smile.

"Good." She nodded, patting your arm and gave Gus a cheeky wink, before scuttling out the door.

"Do I have a shift this week, Rem?" You asked, turning your attention back to your boss, who hadn't taken his judging eyes off of you.

"I haven't gone over the schedule yet this week." He answered, gruffly. "So, I'll have to let you know."

"All right." You nodded, feeling the cold coming off of him in waves. "Well, I have a bit of shopping to do for the house." You said, trying to shrug it off as Remi's reluctance to trust with the uncertainty of war, having lost both his brothers.

Gus stepped away from you, to grab a small hand basket from the stack by the door, holding it for you as you puttered around the modest aisles and freezers, grabbing a few items and placing them in the basket.

"Everything is so bare." He commented, watching you grab a box of oatmeal, only one of four on the scarce shelf.

"We're being rationed." You replied, sighing as you tucked a box of dry pasta in with the rest of your groceries. "Remi only gets a shipment of things once a week to stock the shelves. If you want something and don't get here early enough for it..." You trailed off, shrugging your shoulders dismissively.

“Suppose, being enlisted for so long, I’ve been a bit blind to the tribulations of civilians.” Gus frowned, his brow creasing heavily. “Not that I didn’t know about rationing. I just didn’t…” He shook his head, a hardness coming into his blue eyes. “Damned Nazis.” He growled, rolling his jaw.

You rested your hand on his elbow, looking up at him with a soft expression. “It is what it is, Gus.” You told him, quietly. “But it will change. We’ll beat them and everything will go back to how it should.”

“As it should.” He echoed, meeting your eye for a long moment.

What will happen after the War ends? No matter who wins. I’ll have to go back to the Army. I’ll have to leave her. Could I come back after my service? Would you want me to come back? Could I…

He shook his head hard, trying to shove the thoughts away. It was delusional to think such things, he was getting too involved and attached. He needed to keep a barrier between the two of you, to protect you against the danger he presented as an officer of the British Army.

“Well, what’s for dinner?” He asked, forcing that wall back up and peeking into the basket he carried for you.

“Um..” You cocked a brow at the basket’s contents taking stock of it and what you knew was at home. “I could make a simple stew. Wouldn’t be too much, but it would be something in our bellies.”

“I have faith in your cooking abilities.” Gus smiled, the sparkle coming back into his eyes.

“Kind of you.” You giggled shyly. “I think that's about all we need.” You said, biting your lip and glancing about the modest shop. “We can get rung up.” You smiled, heading towards Remi at the register. “How’s your Mum, Rem?” You asked, as he slowly added up everything in your basket.

Remi’s mother had suffered great shock at the loss of her two older sons, Duncan and Andre, who had enlisted and been shipped off to the thick of the war. Duncan had died in the Battle of Crete, taking shrapnel that nicked a serious artery and bled to death before anyone could do anything for him. The most tragic though, was Andre. His squad was ambushed by a German one and overtaken. It had been a hard time for many in the town, when they received the telegraph informing them of Andre officially being MIA. Every time Remi’s mother was seen, she was balling her eyes out and lamenting, prophesying that he too would die as her oldest did.

Two months later though, another telegraph arrived informing them that Andre had been found alive, but being held in a German Prisoner of War camp. His mother was relieved to hear he was alive, however she was still devastated to hear of his situation. Andre survived for a while in the camp. Two whole years, to be exact. But the fated telegraph ultimately arrived, one blustery day, and practically the entire town heard her screaming.

So, in that sense, you and Remi had developed a friendship based on an understanding of parents with mental health issues, inflicted by wars in some way.

“She’s doing all right.” Remi answered, not looking up from his task.

You blinked at him, ordinarily he would elaborate on how his mother was doing when you asked, even if nothing had changed about her. But you realized quickly where his reluctance came from, feeling Gus shift beside you.

Men. You rolled your eyes.

“Can I have Willa’s usual as well?” You asked, ignoring the thick air between Gus and Remi.

“Sure.” Remi nodded, half turning on his heels to grab the red and white, Rose Tip box and tucked it into the bag. “I’ll put this on your tab.” He said, setting it in your reach.

“Thanks.” You smiled uneasily at him, as Gus scooped the bag up and tucked it carefully against his good side. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” You told him, before leaving the shop and tracing your steps back home.

“What’s wrong?” Gus inquired, glancing down at you.

“Nothing.” You informed him, licking your lips and shaking your head. “Guess he’s just having a rough day.” You brushed it off.

Gus moved out of the cellar and into the cramped guest room upstairs, nothing separating the two of you now, but the wall of your closet. The two of you agreed it was much more agreeable to have him there than the cellar in the event the Patrol and the Inspector returned. They know doubt would, their suspension of Gus was all too obvious. It would also be more comfortable for him in the guestroom, giving him a softer bed, the luxury of sunlight and fresh air from the window that overlooked the back garden. As well as the beach, beyond the garden wall.

But as Gus healed and regained his strength again, he knew he had to find a way back to his men, and the war. He had to find out what happened to his men, if they were still alive. How he was to do that, was another matter altogether.

The last thing he recalled of the group was infiltrating a Nazi Intelligence Camp to rescue one of their own, Geoffrey Appleyard. They had gotten into the camp and things had gone well. He and his second hand man, Anders Lassen, moved smoothly together before nodding at each other and Gus looked back to Henry Hayes, jerking his head for the younger man to follow him. They moved swiftly through the camp, taking Nazis out left and right and making the camp practically useless for any that tried to use it again; with Freddy Alvarez setting up a plethora of explosives as a finishing touch.

Gus was proud of his men. No one had been seriously injured, beyond a handful of scratches. It had been one of their best in and out missions in the two years the unofficial, rag-tag group had been put together. That alone should have given Gus a measure of paranoia.

Missions should never go so easily.

The shot rang out and everyone in the group tensed, the jolly celebration that filled them instantly vanished as they dropped their looted goods and scrambled for their weapons, pulling out guns and bows. Gus hated being caught by surprise, especially by damned Nazis. He gritted his teeth, returning fire, while trying to assess the situation. They were a mile and a half from shore, where their boat was waiting to take them back to the safety of Allied Lines. There was a sparse covering of forest between them and their extraction point, that could give them some shelter. As much as Gus March-Phillippss hated being surprised, he hated running. But hearing Anders call out that there were too many and ammo was running low, Gus gave the signal to retreat to the boat, taking up the rear to ensure none of his men lagged behind.

It was him that lagged behind.

He felt the hot burn of lead piercing his side, faltering only momentarily, his eyes focused on the back of Lassen’s head, breath from his lungs starting to wheeze in his throat and his vision spot. Gus’s memory skipped in and out from there, like a scratched record. Spotting the boat ahead of the group and urging them forward, the heat of blood soaking into his clothing and his knees feeling like jelly. He couldn’t recall if he made it to or onto the boat with the others, then somehow fell overboard, or something more happened.

There were dark bits lurking in his mind of freezing cold enveloping him, no doubt of him in the Channel.

“Your father’s very into following the movements of the War.” Gus said one morning, sipping a cup of coffee as the two of you finished breakfast.

“He is.” You nodded.

“Does he only follow the major events or…” He trailed off, meeting your eye.

“No, he follows whatever is reported on or gossiped about in newspapers and the radio.” You replied, sensing his intent and sudden interest in your father’s hobby. “Why?” You asked, cautiously.

“I need to know what happened to my men.” Gus told you, bluntly and honestly. “I have to know if they’re still alive, dead or in prisoner of war camps. Perhaps your father has some information that could be useful to me, on that front.”

“How?” You shook your head, confused.

“I was injured during a mission.” He divulged to you, in a low voice. “It wasn’t an official or authorized mission, but there might be a possibility of it being reported on.” He cast an eye over his shoulder to the sitting room, where your father lounged in his usual spot. “Do you think he’d discuss it with me?”

You snorted at him and lifted your tea cup to your lips. “Do I think so? It’s more a matter of getting him to quit, once you get him going.” You said, taking a deep gulp of the rich, brown liquid. “But, yes.” You nodded, assuring him. “I’m sure my father would likely share any information he has on the War with you. Just wait until later in the morning. He likes to nap after breakfast, and he’ll be more receptive and energetic about the subject.”

“Excellent.” Gus smiled, patting your arm. “Would you like to go on a walk with me, to pass the time?”

“I think that would be quite agreeable.” You cooed, finishing off your tea.

[viking-raider-library]

GUS X READER LIST

Key: ✽ - Complete, ✽✽ - Hiatus, ♥ - Mature, ✢ - Sensitive Content, ⟳ - Coming soon

Salt in Our Wounds: I II III IV ♥

[littlefreya]

Summary: Whatever madness drove this woman to board a pirate’s ship of her own free will was beyond comprehension. Yet there she was, in velvet and silk, marching toward certain danger and the sinful desires of the monstrous Captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker.

Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D

Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)

Neptune's Snare

The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Each step eliciting s husky wail - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker. 

Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.

Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger. 

Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death. 

It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl. 

“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.

“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”

“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”

The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.                                                                                                                                                

Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle. 

She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death. 

“Take off your cowl.”  

A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like. 

As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse. 

Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face. 

There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!    

“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.

“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan. 

She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person. 

After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.” 

Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back. 

“Are you a mute?” 

Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…”  embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”

“Captain,” he corrected. 

Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.  

The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment. 

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head. 

‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’

There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic. 

August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”

“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.

His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.” 

His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.  

“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.

“And you came to me. Why?”

“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him. 

August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second. 

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded. 

She nodded, her throat clenching. 

August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably. 

Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart. 

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?” 

His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest. 

Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice. 

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?” 

Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.

But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back. 

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke. 

August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air. 

“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.” 

His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred. 

“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered. 

Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.  

‘Do it, do it now.’ 

Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun. 

Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.

“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react. 

With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy.  He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.

 “I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”

With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.

Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal. 

“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”

Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail. 

****

Chapter Two

[clairewritesandrambles]

─── Masterlist ───

❀ Denotes Smut/NSFW Content

↠ Fics ↞

↠ One-Shots ↞

↠ Drabbles ↞

─── WIPs ───

❀ Denotes Smut/NSFW Content

↠ Fics ↞

↠ One-Shots ↞

↠ Drabbles ↞

[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!

[holylulusworld]

Bound Tight - Kinktober 30

Summary: You're in trouble...

Pairing: Mobster!Guy March-Philips x fem!Reader x Mobster!Anders Lassen

Warnings: mafia au, restraints/being restrained, scared reader, I’ll label this one dub-con, implied future smut/threesome, I’m a tease…

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Privacy is essential to your boss. You should’ve known better than to walk into the office on his boat without knocking. A phone call distracted you, and you forgot to knock before you entered the room.

Gus, your boss, was in the middle of a conversation with his bodyguard. Anders, the guy you only call giant in secret, pushed his cute glasses back up as his eyes landed on you.

He sucked in a breath as your eyes drifted toward the huge money stack on Gus’s desk. Your eyes widened because you never saw so much money in your life. Gus couldn't have so much money. You’re his bookkeeper and know how much money he makes with his business.

“Anders, would you excuse?" Gus’s features darkened as his eyes drifted toward you as you stood in the room, his cup of coffee, and the latest numbers in your hands. “Someone’s being sneaky, my friend. I think I should have a serious conversation with my bookkeeper now.”

Gus leaned back in his chair, making it creak under his weight. Your boss enjoyed the fear flashing over your face. He dipped his head and hummed as your hands began to tremble.

Anders nodded at your boss, turning to leave the office. He brushed past you, sniffing at your hair as he passed you.

“Wait—” Gus snapped his fingers at Anders. “I need your assistance. You’re very skilled when it comes to punishment.” Your boss slowly got up; like a lion ready to pounce on his prey, he kept an eye on your trembling form. “And ropes.”

You whimpered, expecting the worst. For a few weeks, you had the feeling that something else than selling expensive boats was going on in your company.

“You've been a bad girl,” Gus purred as he stalked toward you. He took the cup out of your hands and threw the manila folder over his shoulder. He was dwarfing you with his size, making you whimper as he encouraged Anders to step behind you. The giant placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, you should know that bad girls need to be punished." Anders’s rough voice sent a shiver down your spine. “I’d love to try my new ropes on you, sugar plum.”

Curly hair...curly hair... You focussed on Gus’s dark curls as he cupped your face with one big hand. Staring up at him like the lamb you were between these wolves, you trembled even harder.

What if your boss was not an eccentric boat builder? What if your presumptions were right, and he was a criminal, hiding things from you?

Gus darted his tongue out. He looked down at you, eyes roaming your body hungrily. You whimpered again, this time for a different reason. “What do you say, Anders? Do you want to test your ropes on her?”

They talked about you as if you weren’t even there. You were just a toy for them to play with after you made the mistake of walking in on them.

“Hmm…yeah. I always imagine how cute she’d look with a rope wrapped around her ripe body,” Anders purred in your ear, tickling your skin with his breath. “I’ll make her my masterpiece.”

Firm hands gripped your upper arms as Gus’s hand remained on your face. He hummed, eyes glued to your parted lips. “I think she’ll look pretty old tied up on my desk. What do you think?”

Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You’ve never felt so small before.

Anders, true to his words, got his ropes to dangle them in your face. He laughed when you pulled away and tried to hide behind your boss.

Gus didn’t show mercy either. He got a knife out, cutting off your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your birth suit. Your boss pushed everything off his desk, even the money to lift you on it.

You squirmed under his gaze, not daring to breathe wrong when he told you to lie down. Feeling the cold maple wood against your heated skin made you shiver.

At first, it was just a little rope around your wrist, nothing more. Anders made quick work; eyes glued to your exposed body. You could see the hunger in his eyes.

Something soft brushed against your ankles; Gus was tying both feet to one of the legs of the table, making sure they were firmly secured. Your left hand was being tied up to another leg.

You were at their mercy now.

“So pretty and soft,” Gus murmured. He ran his fingertips over one breast, pinching your nipple. “I dreamed of having you like this.”

You watched them circle you like prey, featherlight touches making goosebumps erupt all over your skin, never getting even close to your cunt.

“Please,” you whimpered as Gus stepped between your spread legs. He stared down at your slicked cunt, biting his index finger, wetting it.

“Oh, sweetness,” he purred your name and nodded at Anders. “We are going to ruin you once and for all.”

[changenameno]

It’s been a long time…PART 1

(Complete, link to the second part down below ⬇️)

 Summary: Gus March-Phillips was gone for about four years. Leaving behind the one woman that he loves. He’s hoping against all hope that you’ve waited for him. Becoming more and more anxious as they pull into the harbour and you’re nowhere in sight… Did you grow tired of waiting? Have you found another in his absence?

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Fem. Reader

Warnings: cursing apart none whatsoever, just angsty yearning buut with a fluffy ending (smut/physical reunion in the second part, though Can Be Read As A Stand Alone)

Word count: 2.1K

A/N: Okay, guess who’s finally watched the movie yesterday? And loved every second of it?!!

As I’m always writing while listing to music, one song in particular inspired this (= One More Pull by The Wellermen, The Longest Johns!) Any mistakes are my own. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you! Hope you’ll enjoy…❤️✨

 

! Neither the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare nor the OC’s like Gus are my creation. The parts of lyrics I worked into my story aren’t mine either!

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PART 1

 

A cold drizzle had started. Still he stood unmoving outside on deck, trying to look beyond the darkness. Trying to make out the harbour that would surely come into view any time now.

“Captain why don’t you come back in? Where it’s warm?”

Lassen’s booming voice mocked, “Pretty sure he’s got his eyes fixed on something special, am I right?”

Gus turned, not nearly as amused as he’d normally be at their banter. “Shut up. Go back inside.”

“Uh oh, sore spot? You’d think you’ve fallen…” Lassen’s mouth closed, upon seeing the angry, stormy Blues fixed on his face. He immediately knew he’d gone too far, trying to lighten the mood this way had not been one of his best ideas apparently.

“Just go back inside.”

At last Freddy and Lassen went inside, letting him be.

Usually he could take quip after quip from his men, without so much as pulling a face, but today wasn’t just any day. It was a day he’d promised you, would come way earlier than it did.

He’d assured you, he would only be gone for eight month. However that wasn’t the case, as their mission had been more complicated than they originally thought.

Now it’s been nearly four years, since he’d made that promise.

Growing anxious as more and more time went by, without hearing back from you. Gus and you had written a lot of letters, back and forth, yearning for each other. Telling the other of your day, sometimes even going as far as describing what you’d do once he’d be back.

Though his letters had become quite apologetic after ten long month, when there still wasn’t an end in sight for the mission.

After the third year, not being able to return to you, your letters had stopped altogether.

Making him sick with worry. Had something happened to you? Where you discovered? Tortured for information on him?

Or something else entirely…Had you found someone else? Someone who’d stay by your side? Someone that wouldn’t leave you alone for four years? Someone that wasn’t him?

Every time, those thoughts surfaced (which were often), he’d felt like Freddy. Just a burning desire to blow something up. Or to shoot whoever was responsible for the sudden stop of your writing.

Though he didn’t cease writing letters. They even got rather poetic at the end, because he was trying to impress you, wanting to let you know how much you mean to him. He simply couldn’t lose the only woman, he had ever loved. He will ever love.

 

The last one he’d written, was the one where he poured in everything he felt. The frustration at your silence. The hope you’d wait for him. The desperation. The deep, honest love he held for you… even the despair he’d felt for being away for so long. But now he finally headed home, to you. After all, you were his home.

 

This last letter of his, read something along the lines of:

 

// Dearheart,

I know I’ve promised to be back a long time ago. And I haven’t.

Regretting every second I’m not by your side. Though my love for you continues to grow stronger every day. My love for you, is both as calming as a sunny day near shore and as wracking as being in the middle of a storm on the high sea. Wave after wave of regret washing over me, threatening to drown me, because I’ve left you behind.

The despair I feel for having been away for so long, is shattering my heart, like a hammer would glass. Every splinter feels like it’s painfully piercing through my chest. More so, since you’ve been silent, every letter not returned, is a shard of my heart crumbling even further.

Now that I finally return to you, everything that’s left of my heart, may be just a fine powder. And like the untamed sea, you decide where to take the leftovers of said heart.

Will you drown the fragments like they haven’t been anything of value? Or will you carefully carry the particles of my heart through the storm, until they reach safe harbour?

For now the hope I feel is still somewhat able to sustain me. I know expecting you to wait, is not fair. That’s why I’m hoping. Because hope is the one thing that’s left, keeping my naïve heart beating, longing for you.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Will you be waiting when we dock in three days’ time, my love? Because soon we’ll draw closer and my journey will be done.

Yours to command, yours to love…

Gus //

 

 

Never before had he written anything like that, it was very unlike him. But he’d also never felt for someone like that before either, so he’d sent the letter. Again getting no answer.

 

Gus thought he was the most anxious when your letters had stopped, but right now as their ship approached harbour, his mind was beyond restless. The unease and dread he’d pushed down for months, creeping up just then, though making him stay frozen to the spot as his gaze was fixed on the lights that slowly came into view. Just when he thought he couldn’t take not knowing anymore, a huge paw landed on his shoulder.

“Here,” Lassen held out a spyglass, nodding at him to take it. In fact not just he had come out, his whole crew stood behind him, as if they were cheering for him.

Appleyard smirked; “Go on then, you surely can’t see without that.”

Gus shook his head, smiling though, he knew his men had his back no matter what. He took one deep breath then lifted the monocular to his eye.

Darkness, then he moved it back and forth until one of the houses on shore came into focus. From there he moved it until he saw a few smaller boats and then further to the right where he knew they’d dock. Where he hoped you’d wait.

There was nothing there, just three men sitting by the sea, probably drunk if their swaying was anything to go by. Not wanting to give up just yet, Gus moved the spyglass up, up, up, over the rooftops of the small town. Even further up into the mountains, where he knew your house sat, a little above the treeline. It seemed just as deserted as the dock, no lights, no nothing that’d point to the fact that you were awake or that’d you’d been waiting.

After one last desperate and frantic search of the harbour, he lowered his arms. You were nowhere to be found.

When he turned, all his men stared at him expectantly, which was the last straw, making him more furious than he’d thought possible. With an unnecessary violent shove, he barrelled the spyglass into Lassen’s chest with the words, “Not here.”

Bumping into Hayes, on his way inside the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. His crew remained outside, unsure how to proceed. Gus grimaced. What had he been thinking? Why would someone like you, wait for someone like him? He was no prince, hell he wasn’t even a catch, so to speak. Angrily pacing up and down.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he flung the door open again, growling, “What are you waiting for?! We are leaving!”

Bewildered at his aggressive outburst, Freddy carefully phrased his next sentence, “But…it’s dark. Maybe…”, he didn’t get to finish, as Gus seethed nearly screaming, “We are leaving! Now!” And with another slam, he disappeared back inside the cabin.

 

Gus tried to calm down. Closing his burning eyes, concentrating on his breathing and the footfalls of his men, getting the ship ready to turn around. Heart thumbing unnaturally fast within his ribcage. Forehead leaned against the door, then he heard it.

“Fuck. No WAIT!!”

He straightened, it couldn’t be? He strained to listen again, certain his mind was playing tricks on him. But that sweet voice? He didn’t have to wait long, when a second much louder curse could be heard.

“Arrrg you fucking ASSHOLE!!! WAIT!!! OI don’t you DARE LEAVE!! FUCKING STOP!”

Gus couldn’t help but grin, as he threw the door open.

He was greeted by Lassen’s smirk, “I think there’s something you might wanna see captain.”

Everybody stood by the railing, looking down into the water. He quickly made his way over, as well.

And there you were, seated in a tiny rowing boat all by yourself, angrily screaming up at him, shaking your fist.

“There you are. You SON OF A…”

All the happiness within was suddenly trying to bubble to the surface, seeing you down there. Not only had you waited, you rowed out onto the sea, alone, at night, to get to him faster.

He swiftly interrupted your rant, “Is that a way to greet your captain? Hey there, love. I’ve missed you, too.”

For a second you were too stunned to continue screaming. Then his deep timbre sounded again, “Well what are you waiting for, hoist the boat up, boys!”

This time around they gladly followed their captain’s orders immediately. Throwing ropes down, that you knotted around your small boat, so they could pull you up and swing you on board.

As soon as your feet touched the wooden blanks of his ship, you whirled around to glare at Gus, leaning against the railing. Sure you were beyond happy that he was back, but you were also furious that he had you waiting, for four fucking years. So you stormed over to where he stood, clearly expecting a hug, because his sturdy arms were already reaching for you.

Though instead, you began attacking him with your firsts, repeatedly punching his chest. Getting out all the despair, pain and agony you’ve stored inside you, all these years. And he let you, not moving an inch, even though it hurt. A lot.

You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face, that just added to the cold drizzle still coming down. After a few minutes placing hit after hit, you suddenly felt so exhausted, you simply slumped against him.

Then he put his arms around your shaking body, at last.

Embracing you as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You buried your face deeper into his chest, arms around his midsection, drawing him even closer.

One of his hands reached for your chin, tipping it upwards, so he could look at your face. His calloused thumb swiped over the soft skin of your cheek, wiping away the stray tears.

You couldn’t look away, you’ve never seen so many emotions swim in his Sapphires. If you weren’t mistaken, they even glistened with unshed tears, when he murmured, “I’ve truly missed you, dearheart.”

“And I you, so much. Just promise to never leave again. I couldn’t take that…”

His loving gaze roamed your face, “Never, I promise.” Then he leaned down, sealing his promise with a kiss. Your lips felt like heaven. Sweet and soft, moving in perfect harmony with his.

Unconsciously you softly hummed, making him smile against your lips. This in turn made you giggle, because his beard had tickled you.

“I love you.”

You replied, slightly biting you lip, “I love you, too.”

 

You two had been so caught up in each other, you had completely forgotten the others, surrounding you, until, “Aaargh, get a room…disgusting display of affection…”

Your head whipped around, looking at the biggest smirk on Lassen’s face as his voice had held no real bite. Gus only laughed in turn.

“Let’s get you inside. You must be freezing. And we still have to dock, don’t we boy’s?”

There was shuffling again, as they prepared the ship to take harbour. You weren’t really paying attention, you only had eyes for the handsome man that still embraced you tightly.

PART 2

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