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joelalorian · 9 months ago

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Tides of Desire - Chapter Eleven: All at Sea

*mood board by the lovely @janaispunk. divider by the equally lovely @saradika-graphics

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI. Angst, cursing, overthinking. Poor Reader is having a week. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used). Chapter names are nautical phrases.

a/n: I know fuck all about concussion treatments or medical care in general. Also, everything I know about yachting I learned by watching Below Deck.

Series masterlist

“Tommy! What the fuck happened?” Joel’s thundering voice carried across the deck, causing Tommy to flinch before his shoulders hunched stiffly. He’d never seen his brother move so fast, covering the distance at lightning speed until he knelt at your side, one large, hesitant hand hovering over your unconscious form yet refusing to give in and touch you.

Struck silent at the expression on his brother’s face, Tommy stared between the two of you. He’d never seen Joel so distraught, love and regret shining in the man’s watery chocolate eyes. He looked on the verge of tears seeing you hurt and unable to do anything about it.

“What happened?” Joel asked again, voice quieter this time, yet no less distraught.

“She fell as we were moving the kayaks. It was an accident,” Jake explained before Tommy could, and Joel’s dark eyes snapped to the deckhand with a sharp glare before shifting back to you, then Tommy. An unspoken conversation happened between the brothers before Tommy turned to Jake.

“Jake, would you find Ellie and finish the evening duties? We’ll handle this.” Jake looked like he wanted to refuse the order, glancing between the captain and the bosun a few times before turning on his heel without response. Once he was clear of earshot, Tommy spoke plainly, one hand grasping Joel’s shoulder. “Listen, Joel. She’s been a wreck all week, distracted and completely unlike herself. This was clearly an accident, but it never would have happened if…”

Jaw clenching, Joel swallowed roughly. “I know. This is my fault.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying… ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just know that things like this don’t happen to her, and I don’t like seeing her confused and hurt over something you did. Brit all but shut down this week because of you.” Tommy didn’t want to hurt his brother any more than necessary, but he needed him to see sense. Joel was just as much of a wreck as you were, he just had more opportunity to hide it tucked away on the bridge.

Wide, dark eyes once again focused on your unconscious form. You looked peaceful, like you could have been asleep, dreaming of happy things, not knocked out cold from a fall. This was all his damn fault. “I’ll fix it, sweetheart. I’ll make everything better,” Joel murmured, running his fingers over the smooth skin of your cheek. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, lips pursed.

“Is medical transport coming?” Tommy questioned, pulling Joel’s focus back to action.

“They’re going to meet us at port. A storm’s rolling in and they don’t want us to wait. Frank’s gonna take watch duty and they’ll guide him over the phone if there’s anything he needs to do,” Joel explained. He hesitated to leave your side, this being the closest he’d been to you since you were in his bed days ago – was it only days? It felt like weeks – but they needed to get a move on.

“Ok. Where do we want to –”

“We’ll put her in my quarters. I don’t want her too far away from me in case anything happens.”

“Are you…” Tommy wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that if you regained consciousness before they got to port, but he trailed off, not about to waste precious time arguing with his brother. They were short on time; he could see the dark skies moving in from a distance. And Joel’s determined expression told Tommy he would have lost the argument anyway.

Lifting you gently once he checked your neck, Joel supported your head against his shoulder and carried you, bridal style, to the bridge, avoiding the areas where the guests were, and through to his quarters. Placing you gently on the unmade bed like the precious thing you were, he kissed your forehead, lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise, I will do anything to make this better, to make up for how poorly I treated you.”

As Joel was taking care of you and getting setup on the bridge, Tommy called over the radio for Sarah to join the deck crew. Being a woman down and in a hurry, he needed all hands on deck and, having grown up on yachts and learned from her father and uncle, Sarah was well versed in pulling anchor and docking. The deck crew worked quicky and thoroughly, getting the anchor up and securing the main decks.

The wind and waves picked up as they took off back to the island, anxiety spread through the crew knowing the real reason why they were rushing back to port. The storm was a bit of a blessing in disguise, giving the interior crew a good excuse to offer the guests for docking half a day early.

The routine journey seemed interminable to Joel, his mind half on steering the yacht safely back to port and the other half on you. He knew you were in good hands with Frank – that man adored you and knew how important you were to Joel; he would take the best care of you – yet Joel still worried. How could he not? You were hurt and things were a mess between you two. Anxiety bubbled in his gut, creating a tightness in his chest that he suspected would not go away until you were safe, and he was forgiven.

The docking was a mess weather-wise and sloppy in execution. Tommy barked out orders over the wind, but every single person on deck was preoccupied. Lines were tangled, spring lines weren’t tossed far enough, taking two or three tosses to get to the dock crew, and Joel nearly crashed into a damn piling. Worst docking ever, by far, but they finally made it, and the medics were waiting for you.

A hushed conversation took place on the bridge as the medics tended to you, securing your unconscious form to a stretcher.

“Are you sure? You’ve never, in the entire history of us working together, left the boat while charter guests remained on board,” Frank said, needing to clarify Joel’s insistence that he accompany you to the emergency room.

“I’m certain. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Frank,” Joel insisted, gesturing emphatically, the ball of anxiety in his chest tightening at the mere thought of not being by your side. Big cow eyes pleaded with Frank to understand, to take point in Joel’s moment of need. He was so close to just abandoning ship otherwise. “Right now, that gorgeous, kind woman is more important to me than any of this and I need to show her that. I need to be there when she wakes up to prove that to her.”

Frank looked at him so softly then, like he’d seen a new side of the man he’d known nigh on twenty years. He understood the lengths a man in love would go to – especially a man like Joel – and he refused to be the one who stood in the way of that. “Go, quick!” Frank waved him toward the deck. “They’ll be wanting to get her to the hospital asap. I’ll keep everyone in line and check in for updates. Take care of her… and yourself.”

In a rare moment of outward emotion, Joel gave Frank a one-armed hug, chocolate eyes full of gratitude and lips curling upward as he left the bridge.

A pounding headache was the first thing that you noticed. The next was the pull of an IV in your arm when you shifted. The third, painfully bright fluorescent lights that only made the headache worse. Looking around in confusion, your eyes settled on medical monitoring equipment and blandly painted walls. You were in the hospital. Why?

Shifting again as you fought down any panic, a heavy weight pinned your free hand down. Eyes slowly moving around the room – you were a bit dizzy and vaguely nauseous – your gaze met a wild mop of dark, messy curls laying on your hand, and a large, warm hand gently grasping your wrist.

Joel.

Your heart skipped a beat as everything came back to you in pieces. The double date. The wonderful night spent together in his quarters. The passion. The morning after… Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you sucked in a deep breath to calm yourself and continued jogging your memory. The look on Joel’s face as he sent you away. The tears. The sadness. The internal fight to keep going, to just do your job rather than giving up and ending your season early. The bright light of joking around with Jake. The laughter while loading kayaks. Tripping, trying to catch yourself, then everything went black and now you were in a hospital room.

God, the pounding in your head hurt worse after thinking so hard. You kept shifting, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position to ease the ache, and the hand around your wrist flexed reassuringly. Your pulse soared when Joel lifted his head, large brown eyes blinking owlishly up at you, and the machine at your side started to beep loudly.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough from his nap. “Don’t wanna get your heartrate too high.”

You didn’t know what to say and just stared back at Joel, eyes taking in every move as he sat up and slipped his hand down your wrist to tangle his fingers with yours. He was here, at your side, holding your hand, gazing at you tenderly with concern in those beautiful eyes. It had to mean something, right? Right?

Lips parting, mouth parched yet needing to say something, anything. “What are you doing here?” That was the best you could come up with.

Joel’s brows pulled together, but a knock on the door interrupted before he could respond, and a doctor sauntered into the room.

“Ah, you’re awake! That is promising news.” The doctor – a balding, middle-aged man in a too-tight white coat – read your chart as the nurse accompanying him called out additional readings from the machine at your side. He hummed, noting down the new information, and placed the chart down on the counter along the wall. “Let me just check…”

The man trailed off, shining a light in your eyes to assess your pupillary response, then gestured for you to follow his finger with your eyes. He ran a few more tests of your reflexes and assessed the tenderness on your scalp where you hit your head. Satisfied, he put the penlight in his chest pocket and sat on a little rolling stool.

“So, you’ve had quite the day.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you grumbled.

“And I bet you have one helluva headache?”

You merely nodded, waiting for the doctor to get to the point.

“That’s to be expected. Nurse Chapin will give you a dose of pain medication in your IV for now.” The nurse moved to do exactly that as the doctor continued. “The knock to your head caused a concussion – grade three judging by the amount of time you were unconscious. But the good news is that the CT scans are favorable. The brain swelling is already going down. Any memory loss? Nausea? Changes in mood – increased irritability, moodiness, anger?”

“A little dizzy and very mildly nauseous. I’m mostly just tired and my head is fucking killing me.” Your brows scrunched together, eyes still squinting from the combination of the headache and the too bright lights. Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that burst from his chest, causing both you and the doctor to join in.

“I’ll take that laugh as a ‘no’ to increased irritability. The meds will kick in very shortly. Once they do, you’ll start to feel better, but you’ll likely be more tired than usual for a few days and will need to take it easy for a week or two,” the doctor explained. “I would recommend someone monitor you for at least the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours just in case there are any changes in your symptoms.”

Your eyes flashed to Joel, who was already watching you. His fingers squeezed yours ever so slightly, and you startled, having forgotten that you were holding hands. You could see in his eyes that he would not let you out of his sight. You weren’t sure how you felt about that yet, but you were too tired to argue about it.

Within a couple hours, you were discharged, and on your way back to the yacht with Joel. Neither of you spoke much, but as you suspected, Joel never strayed from your side, an arm or hand always wrapped around some part of you. Once you were in a car on the way back to the port, your head resting tenderly against Joel’s chest where it fell from sheer exhaustion, he finally spoke.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough, but I am sorry for my behavior, for how I treated you the other morning. I won’t disrespect you further by offering lame excuses. It was a piss poor reaction and I regret every single second of it. Most of all, I regret hurting you.”

You could feel the rumble of Joel’s voice mixed with the elevated beat of his heart against your face where it rested against his chest and hear the sincerity in his voice as it broke over certain words. His arm tightened around your shoulders, drawing you closer still until your entire being could tell how much he regrated his actions, his words, that entire dreadful morning.

Was it that easy, though? Were you ready to forgive and forget that quickly?

The medication had taken the sharp edge off the headache, but your mind was still a swirling mess. This was a conversation for when you were both clear-headed, you thought. But you appreciated his apology nonetheless.

You must have been silent too long because Joel started speaking again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right now – or at all, really. I just… I just wanted you to know that I would take it all back and reset that morning, if I could.”

“Thank you, Joel, for the apology… and for being here for me even when things aren’t great between us. I want to forgive you, but I think… I think we should have a conversation when I feel more like myself,” you admitted, exhaustion lacing your voice.

Pressing his lips to the top of your head, Joel kissed your hair. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll talk when you’re ready. In the meantime, let me take care of you. Let me show you that I’m worthy of your forgiveness if you find it in your heart to offer it to me.”

You murmured something intelligible, snuggling further into the warmth of his chest. Joel let you sleep the remainder of the ride and carried you on board like the precious cargo you were. It was well after midnight and the yacht was dimly lit and quiet, even the charter guests in their rooms asleep ahead of their departure later that morning. You remained out cold as he tucked you into his bed, slipping in beside you after a quick shower. You didn’t know it, but he held you close all night.

True to his word, Joel looked after you with great care. His bedside manner was impeccable, if he did say so himself. You were an easy patient though, sleeping through most of the next day, rousing only when he woke you periodically per doctor’s orders. He made certain you had plenty of liquids to stay hydrated, light food to nourish you, and pain reliever for the lingering headache.

The charter guests departed none the wiser and they left a good tip despite their time at sea being cut a little short. Their departure was the only time Joel left your side for more than five minutes and, upon his return, he set your portion of the tip aside for when you were awake for more than fifteen minutes.

There was a rare lull in the schedule with the next charter being a short three-day reservation, so the crew all had four days in a row off. Convenient timing, of course, and Joel was glad you’d have the extra time to recover without feeling guilty. Originally, he planned to have an activity for the crew to unwind, but no one seemed to want to do that without you. He wondered if you had any idea how loved and appreciated you were among the crew.

After thirty-six hours, your energy started making a return and Joel allowed some visitors to check on you. Sarah had been driving him up a wall demanding to know via text how you were doing every five minutes and she would not relent until she saw you with her own eyes. If it was at all weird for her to see you sitting up in her dad’s bed while he gazed at you all gooey-eyed, she didn’t say peep about it, for which Joel was grateful.

Of course, Ellie had plenty to say about it – more than enough to make up for everyone who didn’t – but you merely laughed knowing the younger woman found the entire situation entertaining rather than ‘gross’ as she insisted.

Mostly, Joel just spent a lot of time watching you like a sad puppy, worrying about you, and hoping that you’d forgive him. This time spent taking care of you made him realize, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how much he ached to keep doing so, in good times and bad. If you couldn’t forgive him, if he lost you for good after this, it would surely destroy him.

He could deny it no longer, to himself, you, or anyone else who wanted to know. He was head over fucking heels in love with you. He just hoped that you felt just as deeply about him as he did about you.

tbc

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel x female reader #yacht captain!joel miller #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller story #pedrostories #joel x f!reader

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bearbluebooks · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4 - God in a Captain's Shirt

Red-headed charter guests with fire in their veins, protective Azriel and badass Gwyn. This is my favorite chapter yet, I think it shows Gwynriel dynamic well. Enjoy!

Start here or if you're all caught up read the new chapter here or under the cut.

TW: soft bdsm, sexual harrasment.

Gwyn POV

The familiar monotone humming of the engines signaled home- at least for now. After the absolute dream of an evening last night, reality quickly set in as their next charter began- and it would be a long one. This charter was all male, which in Gwyn’s experience meant all trouble.

Something about the sea brought out some primal sense of freedom. Nothing was off limits once land was out of vision, and the sky was the limit- no alcohol was too much, and no ass too forbidden.

The boundary between hospitality and hostility was a fine line that Gwyn still did not know how to navigate. One last whiskey could turn into ‘just one touch’. To make matters worse, saying yes was part of her job description and how often she said the opposite, greatly affected the collective tip.

Azriel- or captain because they were on charter again- informed them beforehand what to expect. For the next three days, the Vanserra family would use their services. The main charter guest was a celebrity, especially in the yachting world. Beron Vanserra was the vice president of the biggest oil company in the country. His oldest son, Eris, was a famous politician, but the other red-headed males she didn’t recognize.

She heard stories of the infamous Beron, the charismatic ladies’ man and devout husband. She wondered which persona she would see on this trip, she prepared for both, just in case.

The boat was filled with more red-headed people than she had seen in her life, she felt oddly at home.

The sun made its entrance in the background, as the charter guests slowly made their way toward the breakfast table. Gwyn was about to ask the guests what they would like to drink when Poppy whispered in her ear, “Chief… I made a mistake.”

Oh no.

Gwyn quickly made a hierarchy of problems in her mind before coming up with appropriate damage control- maybe a guest went overboard, or the laundry machine broke. Maybe one of the guests already crossed the treacherous line of hospitality. Based on that last thought, she hoped it was a guest that went overboard.

“I will be right back for your orders.” She reassured the guests before she guided Poppy towards the pantry.

“I love to see you walk away, take your time.” One of the brothers said to her back. A shiver of disgust ran up her body- an impulse she quickly suppressed. Tips, tips, tips, she reminded herself.

Last night another brother, Morrin, already introduced her to his intentions when his eyes never left hers- or her ass. Lingering looks quickly evolved into words, “You are too pretty to be a stew”, she could feel his desire turn into action. Luckily, his youngest brother Lucien seemed to hold him in check, putting him in place with the occasional “watch yourself” or the even stronger “back the fuck off Morrin, leave her alone.”

She wondered what went wrong (or right) in his upbringing, seeing as his dad seemed to have a similar obsession with her ass.

Once Poppy and Gwyn safely made it to the pantry they had the privacy needed for the conversation. The space was cramped enough to have no personal space, but it provided immediate notice of wandering eyes or ears.

“What happened?” she asked in a tone that hopefully signaled she wasn’t in trouble.

“It’s the captain’s shirt… I used the wrong temperature and now it’s-“ Tears started to form in her eyes. Poor thing was so distraught by the incident she almost cried, so she said “Poppy, don’t worry. Make sure the guests get their drinks and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Accidents happen, especially in such a chaotic, high-pressure work environment. With one last reassurance, Poppy regained some color back in her face and resumed her work.

Next stop, laundry room. Time for damage control.

The even smaller door in the pantry led her straight to the laundry room where multiple machines were already running.

Gwyn had not missed that sound.

When she scanned the room for the ‘mistake’, she quickly found the children-sized captain’s shirt. As soon as she held it in her hands she couldn’t contain the belly laugh that escaped her mouth before she picked up the radio and contacted the not child-sized Azriel.

“Captain, we have a slight problem” Gwyn’s voice confessed over the radio. “Could you come down to the laundry cabin?”

“Two minutes,” Azriel's baritone voice informed. How she loved that sound, she couldn’t wait to hear it in person.

With her back turned towards the door, Gwyn took up the work left behind in the laundry room. She hated sitting still.

Completely lost in the work, she did not hear the heavy footsteps, or see the imposing presence. She did feel the hands on her hips before she heard the words “If you wanted to see me you could have just asked.”

Before she could answer he added, “Was it one of the brothers? Did they do something? I will-“

She interrupted him before he could finish that threat, “No they haven’t.”

She didn’t want to lie, never to him, so she added “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He hesitated to say “I don’t like the way they look at you.”

With a hand on his chest, she hoped to convey all the appreciation she felt. “Trust me, Azriel. I can handle them.”

She could see the wheels turning in his beautiful mind- the choice between trust, and control. “I do,” he said with some difficulty.

The slight annoyance must have shone through her eyes, because he quickly corrected himself, “I do, Gwyn, I just don’t trustthem.”

He had a point.

“I know, me neither. But I’ve handled these kinds of people for a long time, and I will survive this time too.” A heavy feeling sank in her stomach. It sucked that this was a part of her job. Their behavior had become so normal that she hadn’t thought about it much until he brought it up.

But the world wouldn’t change in one charter, and all she had control over was this moment, so with a smirk on her face she turned around to show him the shirt. Shock colored his hazel eyes before a smile took over his face. “I know you prefer to see me naked, but I need my captain’s shirt at work.”

“I think you need to check your attitude,” she said as she hit him in the chest. One of his scarred hands embraced the sudden closeness when he placed it on top of hers to stop it from exiting his orbit.

“Why don’t you do it for me?” he suggested.

“Make me,” She ordered as she placed her other hand on the growing bulge in his pants.

In response, one of his hands moved towards her back, where he ran his fingers lower to touch as much of her as he could in the limited time they were allowed. His mouth found hers in seconds when he placed a desperate kiss on her lips.

With two strong hands he cupped her ass and carried her towards the ironing board, “not here” she softly ordered. They would break it in seconds and that would definitely raise attention.

With hurried determination, he found a new destination- the counter. In one swift movement, he pushed all the towels off the surface before he softly deposited her on the stone expanse. A shiver ran up her body as her naked legs touched the cold material. “Are you cold?” he inquired. “Let me warm you up, love.”

With closed eyes, she felt his mouth move south toward her neck where he placed frantic kisses on every unclaimed spot. His strong hands moved to open the buttons of her dress which exposed the lace bra she wore for one pair of eyes.

Hungrily and desperately he opened the mesh confinement to reveal her already hardened nipples. No force could contain the quickness with which he took one of them in his mouth before he lavishly sucked on it and sent a shiver directly down Gwyn’s spine.

For extra strength, she wrapped her legs around his torso, and with every new stroke of his tongue, her legs tightened. A moan escaped her mouth when the sensation made her feel light-headed.

Continuing his downward path he moved towards her skirt.

Gwyn was never unprepared, and when she saw his eyes light up as he found her next surprise- matching lace underwear- she felt a pang of pride. “Fuck” he groaned into her thigh, where he softly bit the inside in pretend anguish.

She smiled at the reaction, but her mouth quickly closed in surprise as his tongue found her already wet core. He lavishly sucked every drop before he removed the last barrier in one swift movement.

When she dared to look down, she saw a god in a captain’s uniform and she wondered how many people were blessed with a similar sight- a thought she quickly pushed away as possessiveness threatened to take over pleasure.

With strong arms he pulled her legs to sit at the top of the counter, giving him perfect access to his goal. With a sense of urgency and desperation, his tongue pushed inside her core. In tortuous movements, he glided in and out, in and out. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her mouth, “Azriel.”

Two of her hands moved to his hair. She needed more, she needed to feel him, to touch him. Closer. Her breath hitched as she begged “More.”

With a smile, he removed his tongue and moved it towards where she needed him most, the bundle of nerves that begged for release. Two fingers replaced his tongue, as they pushed inside her in a rhythmic movement that pushed her up that familiar hill of arousal.

“Not yet” he ordered in between strokes.

Everybody could walk in at any second, but the more pleasure she felt, the less she cared. All thoughts became dominated by a single goal- release. She moved a hand towards her mouth before she whined “Azriel, please.”

One more finger joined her already full center, as his tongue sucked even more rapidly. In a similar tempo, his tongue and fingers moved in tandem. Pushing her farther up that hill, until her release felt like a spring coiling tighter, tighter, tighter, until he said “now” and her vision faded to black as the earth shattered around her.

No other partner ever had that effect on her, she couldn’t help it when the words pushed her over the edge and his hand moved to cover her mouth as she screamed her release.

That was one of the best orgasms of her life. The sensation was so intense that shockwaves of pleasure rocked her hips, and she turned soft in his arms.

Azriel didn’t move an inch, as he sucked up all of her juices before he released her from his grip and took in exactly the effect he had on her. His eyes never left hers as he hungrily sucked all of her wetness from his fingers, when he added “I can’t get enough of your taste.”

His eyes looked at her lips when she challenged “Kiss me”. He smiled as he slowly moved closer to her, and gave her a tender kiss that didn’t match his absolute destruction of her ability to stand. She surprisingly enjoyed the taste of her arousal in his mouth and felt completely lost in the sensation before the urge to have a taste of him filled her mind.

Without words, she jumped off the counter, but she misjudged the time it would take for the feeling to return to her legs, as she fell into the strong arms that were always ready to catch her.

“Careful,” he said with a confidence that wasn’t entirely misplaced- something she wouldn’t share just yet. The male had enough ego as it was.

“I want to taste you too,” she said as her hand moved towards the belt that stood in the way of her destination.

“Tonight,” he promised. They were already on borrowed time. Given their track record, it surprised her that nobody walked in on them yet, so she begrudgingly agreed.

With one last kiss, he reminded her of what she would be craving all day, until the radio interrupted their carefully crafted peace, “Captain. You are needed in the bridge.”

With a groan, Azriel slowly backed away but didn’t leave until he gave her one last passionate kiss that took all her breath away. With closed eyes, she cherished the feeling, and accidentally didn’t see him walk away, with what she was sure was a very smug look.

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Azriel POV

When he walked out of the laundry room he had to adjust his pants to accommodate the hardest cock he had in his life- he could still see her come undone under his ministrations, and he could hear her scream as she came because of his mouth. It gave him a sense of pride he had never felt before, that he was the reason she came so hard she couldn’t even stand.

It all played on repeat in his mind, which, combined with the taste of her on his tongue only made his dick grow harder.

“Are you all right, brother?” Cassian said as he bumped into him walking towards the bridge, “Where in the hell were you? You smell like…”

“None of your business”, he replied stead-fast, hoping to stop all further questions. Even though Cassian knew about their relationship, what just happened in the pantry was a huge violation of every rule he set for himself- and every rulebook on captaincy. What happened in their private time was one thing, but sex on charter was a fireable offense. He needed to be smarter about this, but whenever he saw Gwyn all thoughts made way for feelings- pure and undiluted hunger he had never felt before.

He loved rules. Rules gave control, something to follow amid chaos, but whenever he was around Gwyn nothing else existed except for her. And he had never been happier in his life.

As they walked over to the bridge in silence, they encountered Balthazar whom he greeted with a nod.

Before he could enter the solitary peace of the bridge, he needed to cross the deck where all the guests were gathered for breakfast.

He didn’t know how but Gwyn beat him to it. Before he could smile, he saw how one of the brothers looked at her- with equal possession and desire. He wanted to punch it off his face for even thinking about it.

What happened next transcended every feeling of rage he had felt in his life, when Morran grabbed Gwyn’s ass and said “Why don’t you come to my room after breakfast.” Then he looked her up and down with condescension and desire, and added “You know where it is.”

With a step fueled by pure rage, he was ready to lose it all- his captaincy, all respect from his crew, his credibility, and his authority. He didn’t care. Nobody touched Gwyn. His Gwyn. The Gwyn that brought him so much happiness he still didn’t believe was possible. The Gwyn whose teal eyes saw straight through every defense he spent his whole life building. The Gwyn that made him believe he deserved to be loved. The Gwyn that he-

And that asshole touched her? The whole world stopped as red took over his vision, not because of their hair, but because of their words.

His fists balled on instinct, and with one more step, he would have punched that smug face with all the anger he felt taking over his body.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him from getting closer. With a strong pull, he released himself only the words “Wait. Watch,” made him pause long enough for the next moment to play out.

“Despite what you believe, not everything is for sale. And I am not included in the rental of this boat.” To which the redhead had the nerve to counter “Your services are.”

A new hand on his shoulder tightened. “I know you probably have to pay for affection”, she continued as she looked him up and down with something akin to pity, “but the sort of service you are looking for is not part of my job description.” As she started to walk away she added one final punch “I can arrange for someone to come to this boat, for affection. Just say the word.” Then she leaned down to whisper something in his ear he couldn’t quite hear, before she walked away with an extra sway in her step. As if to show him exactly what he couldn’t have.

The anger hadn’t left his body, but some space was freed in favor of the pride that blossomed in his chest. His Gwyn.

With one maneuver he freed himself from Cassian’s grip to walk after Gwyn.

She wasn’t in the pantry or the kitchen. With more desperate strides he walked towards the laundry room, which was right beside the crew bedrooms. As he neared he could hear soft cries from Gwyn and Nesta’s bedroom.

When he came closer, he saw Gwyn on the bottom bed with Nesta next to her telling her all the things he wanted to say, “He’s an asshole. I will kill him, just say the word.”

He didn’t want to interrupt but he also desperately needed to hold her in his arms. One more step revealed his presence. Tearstained eyes looked up before she jumped up from the bed and into his arms.

With one look at Nesta, he silently said Thank you for being there for her. I got it from here.

He held her as close as their bodies allowed, rubbing reassuring circles on her back. He didn’t know what to say except “I know baby. I’m sorry.” Silently he wished he could hurt everybody who ever hurt Gwyn.

Her breathing started to increase and he felt her entire body tense. With a small step back, he forced her to look into his eyes “Hey” he urged “Breathe, breathe for me baby.”

“Look at me- look at me.”

“In and out. Breathe with me?” He needed to bring her back to this world, he had his fair share of panic attacks, and breathing normally was the first step to bringing her back.

“Keep your eyes on me- just focus on me.” He tried to keep as much of his fear from his eyes. Only reassurance.

“You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. I got you.”

“I got you” he repeated as her breathing steadied. Next, he grabbed her into his arms so tightly he needed to remind himself she just got air back into her lungs.

He would do anything Gwyn needed. Anything.

When she started to talk, his breath hitched in his throat “It reminded me of what happened in… in that hotel room. When Lucky almost…”

He held her tighter as if nothing could happen as long as he held her safely in his arms. “It feels as if I always have to be aware- of my surroundings, of people. As if I can’t ever fully trust someone or they will take advantage of me.”

“As if I constantly have to create my own safety.”

“I can handle him. But I hate that I need to.”

With one hand he lightly brushed some of her hair out of her eyes as he whispered, “I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to function as a female in the industry. More money meant more privilege, and where those lines stopped often blurred at sea.

His hands itched for release, and his whole body urged him to find both males who hurt her and remind them exactly where that line was.

First, he needed Gwyn to be okay. To know that she was safe.

With one more breath, she reassured him, “I am okay. I am… I will be.”

Sadness left her voice when she added, “I’m going to check on Poppy, she has never done evening service by herself and I would hate for her to deal with them alone.”

With two of his scarred hands, he took his world in his hands, to look into her eyes one last time, her words could conceal what her eyes couldn’t. What he saw was sadness and determination- a terrible combination.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I’ll see you tonight okay?”

“If you need anything radio me and I’ll be there in seconds.”

With a forced smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, she gave him one last kiss on his cheek before she left to join Poppy upstairs.

When he was sure she was gone, he walked towards the guest's quarters. Dinner was almost over.

Most people had a routine, wake up, scroll on their phone, work, sleep, repeat. Charter guests were similarly predictable. He made sure to know every routine on board, including Morrin’s. With one look at his watch, he said “Jacuzzi.”

Interception was easy, especially on a boat with not many ways to go. Just as he was about to open the door to his cabin, Azriel stepped out of the shadows to put his much larger hand on his. “Touch her and I will kill you.”

Morrin was not special. No matter what his mother told him every day. He knew these sorts of guys. He grew with them. He knew exactly which thoughts floated around their disgusting brains. All the rules they thought didn’t apply to them. Which crimes their dad could buy them out of. He felt no remorse as he said “Did I stutter?”

All the time in the navy was useful for learning how to navigate the seas, and some less traditional knowledge, he wasn’t lying when he warned, “I know fifty ways to kill a man. Perhaps you haven’t noticed in your drunken haze, but we’re in the middle of the ocean. I’ll drop your worthless body overboard and I will make sure you’ll never be seen again.”

With one more step, his much larger body hovered over his pathetic excuse of existence, “I’ll repeat. Look at her the wrong way, touch her with one finger, and I. Will. Kill. You.”

“Knod if you understand, you worthless piece of shit.”

Never in his life had he uttered those words, he had thought them, but he had never cared enough to say them into reality. Something deep inside him twisted at the possibility of hurt caused to Gwyn, and he would do everything in his power to never let that happen.

With pure hatred in his eyes, he stared down the cowering male in front of him, until his shaking head showed the sign of agreement. And Azriel could turn around to not have to look at his miserable face anymore.

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

Gwyn POV

Getting back into the routine of working helped get some of the awful feelings out of her head. With rougher movements, she cleaned the leftover plates.

Outside of her thoughts, there was a serene peace in the kitchen- which was a rare occurrence on the always busy ship. The kitchen was spotless, the black and white checkered floor looked brand new, and the metal countertops gleaned in the harsh light. You could eat off every surface, except for the small space at the kitchen sink she currently occupied.

A black shape moved in the corner of her eye, was that… shadow? With a smile on her face, she thought about the best male she knew, the one she always felt safe around, Azriel.

As if she summoned him by thinking of him, the cedar smell found her before his hands did. With one featherlight brush over her hand, he signaled his presence. When she turned around, desperate for a calming kiss amongst the chaos in her mind, Mor entered the cramped space just before she made a career-ending mistake.

Azriel quickly salvaged the situation by offering “Can I help you with something?” Proving once again that man had nerves of steel.

In a teasing tone Mor responded “Ohhh, you have changed. The captain is helping?”

“Do you want to head to bed or not?” he responded.

“You got me there” she smiled. With a soft grab she pulled Gwyn to the side, to ask in a soft tone “Are you okay sweetie? I heard what happened at dinner, I’m so sorry. They are assholes. Do you want me to put poison in their drinks?”

With a smile, she replied, “Let’s see how tonight goes?”

Gwyn couldn’t imagine a better crew. Situations like these were worsened or salvaged by your surroundings, and in this case, it was definitely the latter.

With a smile, she reassured her “I’m fine. Really. Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”

“I’ll sleep like the dead, those people were ex-hau-sting,” she said as she walked down the stairs.

And then there were two.

Desire hung in the air every time he was near- she could not smell anything else, see anything else, or hear anything else.

Still, fear was mixed with desire.

That was close. Too close. She doubted Mor would say anything, but she had to be more careful. Her ass was still on the line.

Even though her job had some less fun parts, she still loved it and didn’t want to lose it.

As soon as the door downstairs closed, Azriel came closer again, as if she was a magnet he couldn’t help but be pulled towards. He stood so close they shared a breath. His forehead rested against hers for a moment before he pulled her flush with his body into a tight embrace.

They remained like that for a while- silent and utterly content in their closeness, until he hesitantly asked, “Are you afraid of me too?”

“I am a male too, and I know-“With one finger on his mouth she stopped him from continuing, “Don’t think for one second you are anything like those guys.”

Her feelings were clear, but her brain didn’t seem to find the words to tell them. “Azriel-“

“It’s okay if-

“There is nobody in this world I feel safer with. My heart eases when you are near. And I-“

“I feel safe with you Azriel. Always.”

With one hand on his cheek, she repeated, “Always.”

Without thinking, she kissed him with all the love she felt. In an instant, he granted her access, and with each stroke of her tongue, fear of being caught left her body.

As if she’d done it a thousand times before, she jumped into his arms, as he deposited her onto the counter. With a laugh, she paused the kiss, “I still need to finish the work.”

Which he answered, “Let’s go then.”

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

Quicker than should be possible, but not as fast as she wanted, they finished all the work in just under an hour. Everybody else was sound asleep, but not them, their beds would be used for other things tonight.

Standing behind her he suddenly asked, “What did you whisper to him?”

With a smile, she whispered into his ear, “That I did know where he stayed, and that I would cut off his prized possession if he ever touched me or any other stew again.”

As she removed her face from his ear, she looked into his eyes where pride replaced initial shock.

With two strong hands on her waist, he urged her to jump into his arms again. Their faces were so close they shared a breath as he said, “You continue to surprise me, Gwyneth.” He didn’t use her full name often but when he did, Gods, her entire body stood aflame.

Towering over him in his embrace, she had a vantage point to play with his hair. Normally she was too short to reach, so she took the opportunity gladly. In something that closely resembled a moan, she said “I love your hair.”

She swore she could feel a shiver run up his spine. An effect she could not discern in his voice when he asked “What else do you love about me?”

Everything. But she wasn’t quite ready to tell him that yet, she still feared rejection, instead, she said “Your voice, the way you treat your crew. Your arms aren’t bad to look at either.”

He smiled so broadly she could see his dimples, “this” she said as she touched one of them. With the same finger, she traced the black swirls slightly coming out of his white captain’s shirt “I love these.”

“The way you look at me.”

The air turned heavier, and silence filled the space. With a slow movement, she created a little bit of distance to look into his eyes where she saw fear. Did she go too far? Maybe he didn’t feel the same way and her big mouth made things too serious again.

Shit. Then she remembered. They shouldn’t be doing this. When would she learn? When she lost her job?

With hesitant moves, she started to leave the safety of his embrace for the safety of better choices, before he tightened his grasp and said with more sincerity than she ever heard in his words “Gwyn.”

“I-“

“I love you.”

“You have my whole heart if you want it.”

Instead of answering him, she kissed him with all the love she felt in her soul. Her being belonged to him. As did her heart and soul.

She had felt it that first night. That’s why it hurt so much when she thought he had left. Every part of her felt safe in his arms. In the calmness that felt like home every time he entered her space. In the way, her entire nervous system was set aflame by the way he looked at her. In the way, he looked at her like she was his entire world. Like nothing else existed outside her. She knew that look because that was how she looked at him too.

So she said “I love you too,” against his mouth.

“I am yours,” she added.

“Say that again”, he ordered or begged she couldn’t be sure. With one look into his eyes, she said “I am yours.”

“You are mine.” He almost growled in response, the sound went straight to her core.

“And you are mine” she answered.

In desperate strides he took her to the bridge, his arms never releasing her from his embrace.

As soon as she saw that door, she lowered her hand slightly to open it.

Her desperate kisses moved to his neck, where she lavishly sucked on the bare skin just below his collar, “mine” she emphasized. She made sure to suck hard enough to leave a little mark where it would be covered by his collar.

“Azriel,” she said in between kisses, “Yes, love.”

With a teasing smile, she said “I think it’s time for somebody else to be in charge tonight.”

After everything that happened, her body craved control and she had a feeling with all the responsibility of Azriel’s daily occupation, he craved release.

The smile on his face and the hunger in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Lie down” she ordered.

Without uttering a single word, he turned around so his back was to the bed with her still in his arms, when he slowly sat down on the bed.

With a slow suck on his earlobe, she was close enough to whisper “I still need to taste you.”

A trail of goosebumps erupted from her touch.

With practiced ease, he started to remove his white shirt by carefully loosening all buttons one by one. Gwyn felt more urgency and lifted his shirt over his head in one swift pull- she was in control after all.

In an instant, the perfect expanse of his chest was revealed. All obsidian swirls were visible for her eyes to worship, so she did what she had been wanting to do for quite some time now. “Close your eyes”, she instructed before soft strokes of her tongue traced each black piece of art.

Soft groans told her he might be enjoying it as much as she was.

When she gave every tattoo equal attention, she slowly removed herself from the bed. The first time she entered his bed chamber, she spotted the piece of rope on his desk. Part of being a crew member on a yacht was extensive knot knowledge. It was good practice to clear her head, and it didn’t hurt in the bedroom either- at least, not if you did it right.

She saw one of his eyes open slightly so she ordered “Keep them closed!” Azriel was utterly responsive to her words because he quickly closed them.

This was going to be fun.

“Move further back on the bed” she whispered into his ear. When he successfully did she gave him his next order “Move your hands to the bedpost.”

“What are you doing?” he questioned.

Even though she wasn’t going to take it too far tonight, it was good to have a safe word just in case. It would help her relax too, if she knew he had a way out would he need it.

“If you want to stop for any reason, say-“ she glanced around the room quickly “Books.”

She knew he craved control as much as she did so she added, “trust me.” It was as much a question as an order.

“I do,” he said solemnly.

“Good.”

In one swift move, she bound both hands to separate bedposts in two perfectly made bowline knots. Every time she finished the knot, she placed a soft kiss on the area.

With one last tug, she inspected if it was tight enough to contain him, but not tight enough to hurt him.

A silk navy blue shawl was part of her stew uniform, it was a nice accessory and in special circumstances a useful blindfold.

When he was completely under her power, she licked his lips asking for entrance. His shocked reaction told her the blindfold worked perfectly.

With a soft bite on his lower lip, he opened his mouth. Their tongues found each other in their shared desperation to get closer. He tasted like… home.

With soft sweeps of her tongue, she explored everything she wanted to. The sensation awakened a part of her soul that shut out the rest of the world completely. She became lost in the pure sensation of their mouths meeting, until roving hands found her ass in seconds and gripped it tightly to pull her closer towards him.

The possessiveness in his touch sent pleasure straight to her core and brought her back to both heaven and earth. She needed more. On instinct, she rolled her hips over his groin, and in rhythmic movements, she chased to achieve the friction she desperately needed.

“Hmm… Gwyn. I need…”

He didn’t need to say it. She felt it too, the huge bulge in his pants that pushed into her core more and more with each movement of her hips.

One of her hands moved towards the place where he needed her most. With slow rubs, she teased all that was to come. Alternating between featherlight touches, and more desperate heavy strokes.

She felt it, she knew it, but she needed to hear it so she ordered “Tell me how much you want me.”

“Gwyn. I need you.”

Even better.

Without delay, she moved further back on the bed. With desperate hands, she removed his shoes before she unbuckled his belt and slid off his pants in hasty pulls. She allowed herself one moment to look at the work of art lying before her on the bed. The obscenely muscular, enormous male, wearing nothing but black briefs- completely at her mercy.

The sight left her feeling dazed. She still couldn’t believe he was hers. And she was his.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to taste him.

In preparation for later, she removed her clothes until she was only wearing her white lace bra and matching white lace slip.

With one finger she traced a path from his calve to his inner thigh. Her mouth replaced her finger when she placed soft kisses on both thighs before she traced the black streak of hair leading toward her destination.

The sudden nearness made him buck up his hips. She responded by placing a soft kiss on his cock- as punishment or reward.

With one strong pull, she removed the last barrier between them. As soon as the fabric left his body, she could see the effect she had on him, as his huge, thick cock sprang free from its confinement. Would she ever get used to the sheer size of it?

With languid strokes, she dispersed the wetness all along his cock. She knew he liked it slightly rough, so she made sure to use a little bit of nails in her rhythmic strokes.

She desperately wanted to have his taste in her mouth again, so she quickly replaced her hands with her mouth. To give a little bit of warning she softly blew on the front of his tip before she licked from his underside to his shaft.

To make sure he knew exactly how much she liked it too, she moaned as soon as she put his huge cock in her mouth. Soft trembles of his hips told her she was doing well.

This already went better than last time, when she could barely fit him in her mouth. She made sure to relax her gag reflex as she took him deeper and deeper. Soft gurgling noises told her she was almost there, then she felt the soft black hairs she had kissed moments ago. That meant… she had his entire cock in her mouth, and a sense of pride shot through her. With one finger she traced his upper thigh whilst she moved his cock in and out of her mouth, alternating between soft movements and more roughness by slightly using her teeth.

He loved pain mixed with pleasure, as proven by the twitching of his cock in her mouth, he was close.

Too close.

With one quick movement, she took him out of her mouth.

Let’s increase the pain a little bit.

With the elegance of a panther moving in on her prey, she slid her body over his to bring up his blindfold. She took up a seat just in front of his cock- which was so huge it must be aching. Without losing eye contact she moved her hand to her clit.

The power she had over him turned her on more than she ever held possible combined with the way he looked at her with pure possession and awe, shivers travelled up her spine.

She was already close but she needed more.

With soft flicks she played with her clit before she moved one finger inside her, pretending it was his. In and out, in and out, she was already so wet. But it wasn’t enough.

She needed more, she needed him.

Anticipation marked his gaze.

What would she do next?

Never leaving his eyes, she slowly moved back, just enough to-

“FUCK” he groaned as she lowered herself onto his cock.

She was still not used to his size, there was some resistance, even though she was so wet already. With soft movements, she slowly adjusted to his cock. Her breathing hitched as she finally reached the point she just had in her mouth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned. Completely lost in the sensation. With closed eyes she rode him like her life depended on it, drowning in pleasure.

With two hands on his chest she moved her hips in circles, and to make him lose his mind she squeezed her center with every new movement. “Evil” he forced out of his mouth.

He was close too. One hand moved towards her clit to bring herself just as close, when she increased the movement of her hips to a torturously fast speed. “I’m clo-“ he was about to say when she covered his mouth with a hungry kiss.

With one more roll of her hips, all thoughts left her brain as every nerve ending lit up in pure ecstasy. All air left her lungs and all that was left was him. In her arms, in her core, in her mouth, in her soul. It was him. Only him.

He joined her seconds later when he groaned his relief into her mouth.

Still riding the high of her climax she whispered onto his mouth, “I love you”.

Somehow those words caused a vision to appear in her mind, of him in the kitchen, playing with red-haired children as Shadow darted in between his legs and she felt at peace.

She didn’t think she could feel any better until he responded “I love you too.”

The crackling of the radio brought her back to earth. “Captain, you are needed on the bridge.”

Both their gazes swept to the floor where the radio was deposited in a haze. “NOW” another voice boomed through the radio.

“Who is that?” Gwyn asked worriedly.

“My brother.”

“Cassian?” She could have sworn the first voice was Cassian’s.

“Rhysand.”

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