#frenchie is alright too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toxicanonymity · 4 months

Text

The Raid, Part 2.

panty-dropping javi art by @bonezone44

8k words | dark!javi x f!reader x dark!steve | The Raid SUMMARY: Javi and his partner get you settled in. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon (captivity & more), kidnapping, drugs, mild withdrawal, manhandling, sharing, degradation, praise, homoerotic tension, thigh fucking, somnophilia (javi), p in v (steve, but Javi's involved), orgasm denial, cumplay, size kink if you squint, mfm adjacent, hillbilly cock. Javi & Steve RECS: Lie Still by @milla-frenchy , Crossing Lines by @lunitawrites , Helping Hands and Polaroids by @clawdee , You can be the boss by @girlboybug . TY all!! A/N: Could've been 2 parts (4.4k/3.6k) so there's a divider (ty @cafekitsune) if you want 2 reads. Ty @debbiequinn for your sleep thot and @ghoulettesinspace for your styling thots. Tagged people who asked for part 2 at the end.

✨NEXT: Javi isn't home - Steve PWP.

The DEA has left the scene, aside from Javi and his tall, blonde partner. The partner managed to catch your (ex) boyfriend while Javi was “supervising” you. Javi has given his men a talking-to and told them you were never there. With a strong grip on your arm, he's dragged you to a Ford Bronco where he's now forcing you into the back seat.

"My shirt," you beg.

Javi shrugs mercilessly. "Should've put it on before you ran." He glances at your bra before beginning to shut the car door.

He and his partner talk outside the car. Javi stands with his hands tucked into the top of his vest. The taller man leans with one hand just above the back seat window and his other hand on his hip. He ducks down to look at you, but doesn't acknowledge you. He asks Javi, "You sure we need to be drivin' around with her half dressed?"

"What'd I say?”

The blonde agent holds his hands up in mock defense. “No Carrillo, no questions." He walks around front to the driver's seat. You have a better view of him once he's seated. He's strong, like Javi. He has a thick mustache, too.

Javi gets in the passenger seat and puts on a voice like he's teaching a class and would rather be anywhere else. He addresses you by name, then says, "This is Steve Murphy."

Steve nods in the rear view mirror, and your eyes meet. Then he turns on the engine and asks Javi, "safe house?"

Javi tilts his head back and smooths his mustache. “Mm,” he contemplates.

Steve offers, "I'll head to the closest one."

Javi answers, "No. My place."

"Yours?"

"Yeah, you know, the place I live? Right downstairs?"

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Alright." After a few moments of silence, Steve asks, "informant?"

"Eh," Javi ponders. "We'll see." He puts a cigarette in his mouth, then takes the cigarette lighter out of its socket and lights up. Javi reaches down to crank the window open a little more, then exhales, aiming the smoke outside. He asks, "We need to worry about Romeo?" as he hands the cigarette to Steve.

“Nah,” Steve replies as he accepts the cigarette. He looks at the tip of the filter and takes one puff before handing it back to Javi. Steve exhales out the window, then reaches back and puts his hand behind Javi's seat to put the car in reverse.

"Nah,” Steve repeats. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that dumbass. . .Told him we'd fuck her in front of him, know what he said?”

“What?” Javi asks, bemused.

“He said go ahead." You’re not surprised.

"Ouch," Javi pretends to sympathize, then looks back to check on you. "Sorry, sweetheart."

—-

Once they get you to the apartment, the first thing they do is take you to the bathroom. You have to walk through a bedroom to get there. In the middle of the bedroom, there's a bed with leather restraints. It makes your stomach turn to look at.

Steve’s eyes fixate on it and he asks Javi, "You kept this stuff?"

Javi retorts, "Where'd you think it went, the Salvation Army?”

Javi pauses to take off his tactical vest. “Let’s wash that place off her.”

“C’mon,” Steve gently urges you by the arm toward the bathroom. You go in the restroom and stand, awkwardly awaiting instructions. You lean your back against the wall and the handcuffs drag.

Steve plugs the drain and turns on the water. Javi walks in, takes out the keys and uncuffs you. Steve retires to the doorway and leans against it, tucking his hands into the top of his tactical vest and watching. He seems to take up the whole frame.

There's a toilet next to the bathtub/shower combo. Javi closes the lid and sits down, facing you, and manspreads in his tight jeans. His shirt is stained with sweat, and the glimmer of a gold chain catches your eye on his tan chest. Javi pats his thigh closest to the tub. You sit on his thigh, facing the door and Steve. Javi strokes your face, and you look down at the floor, cheeks warm, heart racing.

“It’s okay,” Javi tells you, “Vamos a ponerte limpia y lista para una vida nueva.” (We’re gonna get you clean and ready for a new life). He unclasps your bra and you let it fall off into your lap. Javi tosses it to Steve, saying, “Check the closet out there.”

Javi reaches over to feel the water, then rests his large hand between your shoulder blades. “Now take off your pants.” He gives you a gentle push out of his lap.

You stand again and remove your pants. Javi stays seated.

You’re cowering with your arms in front of you, but Javi beckons you with a hooked finger. You come to stand between his knees. He nudges your inner elbows and you let your arms fall out of the way.

“Good girl,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off your tits. His hands come to your chest without even a glance to your face. He lightly massages your breasts until both nipples are erect. He slots both his hands under your armpits and thumbs your nipples, then slides his palms down to your hips where he hooks his thumbs into your panties and keeps going, bringing them down to the floor.

Steve comes back from the closet and sets some clothes on the bathroom counter.

Javi looks over and tells him, “Keep Carillo off my back for a while.”

Steve nods and leaves. “Hasta luego!” he shouts with an American accent on his way out.

Javi chuckles and shakes his head.

Javi eyes the water level of the tub and turns off the faucet. “How do you feel?” he asks you with kind eyes.

“Fine,” you mutter without meeting his gaze.

He extends his hand for you, and you hold it for balance. You dip a toe in and it’s lukewarm. “Get in.” He nods toward the bath and you do. He takes off his shoes and socks and puts them outside the door, then cuffs his jeans.

“How’s the water?” He asks then reaches under the sink, and you watch his ass strain his pants as he gets a bath poof.

“Uh, good.” Your answer echoes off the tile.

He sits on the side of the tub and uses a light orange bar of soap to make some lather, then scrubs you. He holds you with one hand for leverage while he scrubs you with the other. He starts with your arms, and your neck. He's not gentle.

“Ow,” you mutter at one point.

“Ay, pobrecita” (poor little girl). “You're going to feel so clean,” he reassures you. He makes you lift your arms. Then each leg. The tub squeaks under you as you scoot forward. He scrubs your legs and between your thighs. He does your breasts and your back. His arm muscles flex with his effort. When he leans over you to reach your other side, his back muscles strain his shirt and his gold chain escapes from his collar, revealing a little cross on it.

“You’re bottoming out,” he mutters.

“Huh?”

“In life.” He pauses and makes sure you're looking at him as he explains this. “It’s a good thing. Know why?”

You stare at him vacantly.

“Once you hit rock bottom, you go back up.”

You look away, and your cheeks burn. You get it, he found you at a low point, he doesn’t have to rub it in. It doesn't feel great.

Javi washes your stomach and downward. He gets close to your intimate parts, but he's clinical about it. He gets you up on your knees and scrubs your bottom. He flattens his hand and slides the side of it down your crack, making you gasp with an unexpected rush of warmth to your core.

Your skin feels almost numb in some areas by the time he's done bathing you. Then he lathers a softer sponge and washes you more gently. He drains the tub and takes his time lazily rinsing you. When he's finished, he turns on the shower and tells you to make sure he got it all.

Once you’re squeaky clean, he dries you off with a pale, yellow, threadbare towel. He inspects the clothes on the counter. It’s a Hawaiian shirt much too large to be Javi’s. Some pants, too, but he only puts the Hawaiians shirt on you. You eye your underwear on the floor, but Javi bends down and snatches it up before you have the chance to collect it.

“I’ll start some laundry,” he offers.

—. . .----

Javi makes pork and beans for dinner. While you’re eating, someone jogs up the stairs outside. “Steve’s right upstairs,” Javi tells you. “Ever need anything and I’m not here, just yell.” He takes a bite of his beans. “He’s a better cook, too,” he smiles with his eyes.

During a quiet moment, you’re startled by the sound of a woman moaning from upstairs. You look up at the ceiling.

[ohhhh, she whines. give it to me.]

“Just a porno,” Javi tells you with a smirk.

“So,” He studies your face. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“You make it sound like my life is over.”

“No, there’s still time,” he shrugs.

You refuse to answer.

[upstairs, a man’s voice joins in. oh yeah, take it, baby.]

Javi tries, “Favorite color?”

You don’t answer that either.

[yeah, just like that]

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ve got all the time in the world to get to know each other.”

“You can't keep me here forever, if that's what you're trying to do.”

Javi’s eyebrows knit in concern. "Oh, sweetheart.” With sad eyes, he asks, “You really think someone will report you missing?"

"I have a job," you protest.

“Oh,” he sounds fakely impressed. “Well. . . Be a good girl, and I'll get you a better one.”

Upstairs, a deeper, clearer voice sighs, “Ohh, fuck,” making you squeeze your thighs together. That has to be Steve. It sounds like him.

[Steve sighs and grunts over the faint sounds from the television.]

You bite your lip and look away.

Javi lowers his head and raises his eyebrows at you. He reaches for your face and smirks as he makes you look at him. “Like what ya hear?” Blood rushes to your face. He chuckles as he lowers his hand.

[A long groan from Steve.]

Oh, wow. You wonder if Javi will notice the wet spot under you. You take a deep breath. When you regain your focus, he’s studying your eyes with an amused sparkle in his. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he nods, then pats your cheek.

“He’s a good guy,” Javi adds, then looks upward in thought. He tilts his head back and forth as though debating himself. “Kind of.” He pushes a glass of water toward you. “Drink.”

—-

When it’s time to sleep, Javi takes you to the bedroom you walked through on the way in. He watches your face as you eye the bed with its restraints.

“You’ve been pretty good so far,” Javi muses. “Maybe we don’t need this yet.”

“Please,” you beg. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“Alright, then. I’m not sure if you’ll like the other option much better, though.”

He brings you to his room and heads toward the closet, which rolls open with a four-panel door. you wouldn’t really mind sleeping in Javi’s bed with him, but that’s not what he has in mind. He pulls out an old futon mattress with a striped fitted blanket and throws it on the floor. “You can choose where to sleep, how’s that?”

“Here,” you answer without hesitation and he chuckles.

“Muy bien, pobrecita. But I *am* going to have to secure you.” He takes his handcuffs out and cuffs one to a radiator under the window. Then, with his foot, he pushes the futon mattress over to it.

“Really?” You ask. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“I believe you. But you need protection from yourself right now.”

His bed has plenty of room for both of you. He’s just being an ass.

Javi lets you watch television, sitting side by side with him on his sofa. He periodically looks at you skeptically, as though wondering if you’ll make a run for the door, but you don’t. It sure has been a long day. You yawn.

“Ready for bed?” Javi asks.

You nod.

There’s a knock at the door.

It’s Steve. He’s come by to drop off a couple of bags. One is from the grocery store. Javi steps into the breezeway to talk for a couple of minutes. When he comes back in, he brings the grocery bag to the table and puts the others aside. In the grocery bag, there are brand new toiletries for you, including a toothbrush.

Javi takes you to the bathroom and watches you while you brush your teeth, then he brings one of the other shopping bags into the bedroom. There’s a nightgown. The material is thin and it’s on the shorter side. Not exactly modest. Javi puts it on you, and at least it’s more comfortable than whomever’s shirt you were wearing.

He gives you a thin pillow and pats the mattress for you to lie down. He cuffs you to the radiator. Then he goes to another room and comes back with a blanket. He tucks you in.

“If you need to go to the bathroom or anything, just wake me up, okay?” He moves your wrist to clank the handcuffs on the radiator in demonstration. “I hope tonight won’t be bad, but you might start to feel sick, or get chills. That’s normal okay?”

You nod.

He pats your head affectionately and bids you goodnight. “Sweet dreams, mi pobrecita.” He goes to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he comes back in the room, you try not to watch him, but you hear him rustling around near the bed. You tilt your head up enough to steal a quick glance, and he’s taking off his shirt. He doesn’t get in his bed right away, but eventually you hear the mattress creak.

—--

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling a little queasy, but you’re unsure if it’s the circumstances, the beans, or the detox. You can’t tell if you’re hot or cold, but this sleeping arrangement is not doing you any favors. You don’t want to wake Javi up, but the night feels like it might last forever otherwise. You rattle the cuffs against the metal.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he whispers. “Okay, I’m coming.” He gets out of bed.

He approaches you, barefoot. As soon as he kneels down, he mutters, “Ay, cabrón” (oh, bastard) under his breath and returns to his nightstand for the key.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you when he comes back. He uncuffs you. As you sit up, he helps you with a warm hand on your back. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, of course,” Javi responds as if he didn’t handcuff you to a radiator.

As he helps you up from the floor, something brushes your thigh and makes you tingle. Your body knows what it is before you do. When you register what grazed your leg through his sleep shorts, your face heats up and the tingle turns into a throb. Javi walks you to his bathroom with one arm around you in case you have trouble. He takes you all the way to the toilet. “You good?” he asks.

“Yeah, do you mind if I?”

“Sure.” He backs up into the doorframe, but he doesn’t close it. You glance over, and he’s not hiding the massive tent in his shorts. He’s not shy about it at all. He’s also not trying to do anything about it. “Alright, I’ll be right here.” He closes the door halfway and stands outside. You sit there for a few minutes on the cool tile in front of the toilet. The urge to be sick has passed. He peeks his head in to check on you. “How about some water?”

“Okay,” you nod. He comes in and helps you up, hard-on still blazing. He takes an empty, upside-down glass from his clean bathroom counter, fills it up, and hands it to you. You’re aching at the silhouette of his length just casually standing at attention. It takes all your energy not to look right at his shorts.

“Good girl,” he gently palms the back of your head.

You try to look anywhere but down. You focus on his bare chest. His chain drapes over his collar bone and sits above his strong, golden pecs. There’s a light smattering of dark, soft hair. And then, lower, a happy trail. You yank your eyes away. You look at the counter: A brush, a comb. Maybe he does his mustache with that. You look at his hair. It’s messy, out of place. Bedhead looks good on him. He casually rakes his hand through it when he sees you looking. Your gaze drifts back to his body. It’s really a beautiful torso you’re looking at. Broad shoulders, strong arms, narrow waist. A hint of abs under the light padding of his flesh.

“You okay?” he asks with his puppy dog eyes, which gives you an idea.

“Yeah.” You look up at him, widen your eyes, and let your face fall.

He nods. “Back to bed?”

You hold your wrist as if it hurts from the cuff and nod sadly. You check his shorts in the corner of your eye–yeah, it’s still there, as commanding as ever. The tent bobs as he walks. He walks you back into the bedroom and pauses at your futon mattress on the floor. He reaches for your hand and holds it as his other thumb brushes the indentation on your wrist.

“You’re sure you don’t want the bed?” He nods toward the other room with the restraints.

“I’d love a bed, but no. That one’ll give me nightmares, I’m sure.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Are you asking to sleep in *my* bed?” His thumb continues to brush the indentation from the cuffs. His light touch gives you butterflies.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him and your hand joins his, on your wrist. His thumb freezes. Your fingers rest lightly on top of his. “I guess I’m okay down there.” You glance at the mattress on the floor.

His bare chest rises with a deep breath. “You’re being such a good girl,” he marvels with your hand on his. “Come on. It’s okay.” He guides you to his bed and pauses when you’re right in front of it. He faces you and puts his hands on your shoulders. He dips his head and his tone darkens. “But if you leave this bed, things are going to change here,” he warns. “And you’re not going to like it.” He shakes his head. The gentleness of his voice and the look on his face sends a chill down your spine.

Javi gets into his bed, under the covers. He lays on his side and makes room for you, albeit not much. “I still have to restrain you,” he informs you as you lie down. “Do you want the cuffs or my arm?”

“Your arm.”

“Good girl.” He extends one arm and raises the other, making room for you.

You scoot back against him, mentally bracing yourself for what awaits under the covers. You're already twitching before you feel it. He inhales sharply as the hardness in his shorts hits you. With a hand on your lower abdomen, he pulls you into him, and his stiff length presses against you.

“I’m sure that’s not going to bother you, is it?” he asks and your breath hitches. You shake your head just barely on the off chance he wanted a real answer. But it is, it's going to bother you as long as he won't put it in you. You’re human, you can’t help it. He’s a bad person but you can only imagine what a good lay. He curls his strong, lean body around you like a big spoon, and he nestles the warm rod in his shorts against your crack.

One bicep is under your neck. His other arm settles over your waist. You don’t need to test his strength to know his arm is solid. Heavy. There’s no escaping as long as he holds this position.

He inhales your hair, and the hand in front of you cups your breast through your thin nightgown. He slowly palms your breast, and lightly grinds against you. You can’t help but push back on him. The shape of his arousal against you makes you salivate.

He whispers just above your ear. “Sure do love cock, don’t you?”

As he thrusts against you at a slow, steady rhythm, his hand slides off your breast, down your gown, sliding over your stomach and down to the fleshy triangle where your thighs meet. His hand stays flat. He doesn’t dig between your legs. He gently presses your mound, bringing you back against him harder as his cock throbs even harder against you.

“That can be a good thing for recovery,” he offers. “You need something to replace that high.”

He thrusts against you slower, lighter. It’s excruiating. “Mmm.” He begins to gather the nightgown’s fabric into a fist, raising the hem of the gown and exposing more of you to the air between the sheets. No underwear.

His hand rests on the bare skin of your lower abdomen, then slides down just low enough that his middle finger can tease your most sensitive place. He slides further down until his middle finger reaches the pool between your legs and he growls almost silently. He begins to move his fingers between your legs. Slowly, expertly, leaving his thumb and pinky braced on your front. The movement is just enough to drive you crazy. His index and middle fingers slide through your dripping folds and apply pressure to your swollen bud, moving to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts against your crack.

“Mm,” your moan is barely audible.

“Ohh, I know,” Javi coos reassuringly. “I know.” He ruts against you slowly. He sighs as he moves against you. The heft of his arousal pushing against both asscheeks makes you weak. If only he’d just stuff your pussy. You can hardly stand it. He must feel you gush on his fingers. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers into your hair. His throbbing erection grinds against you. His hand leaves your cunt and you feel cold, exposed. He pulls down the waistband of his shorts, then his hand–wet fingers and all–slightly lifts your thigh, making your heart skip a beat.

He wedges his naked cock between your thighs, right against your cunt, and you gasp. His swollen tip glides through your wetness and you moan, “Ohh.” He slowly slides forward and back through the warm, wet pocket made by your thighs and cunt. You push back against him. “Mm,” he grunts softly as his tip reaches your clit.

His hand returns to your breast. He massages your breast as his cock keeps sliding between your thighs and nudging your sensitive bud just right. “Javi,” you whisper. “Please.” His cock hesitates at your entrance, and you tilt your hips.

“Not today, sweetheart.”

With a small thrust, he bypasses your wet little hole again.

Then he stops moving. You push your ass back into him, and he does nothing but tighten his arm over you. He cradles your breast gently. You’re throbbing, aching to have him inside you. It feels like an eternity you’re lying like this with his arousal throbbing against your naked heat. You begin to feel a chill again and reach for the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. He helps you, then murmurs. “Good night” into your hair.

The comfort of his arms and rhythm of his breath lulls you to sleep sooner than you expect.

—-...------

Just after daybreak, you awake to the sound of Javi breathing heavily as his cock slides against your wet cunt again. Your chest is hot and fluttering. He’s aggressively groping one breast, then shifts to the other with a grunt and harsh thrust. Your body shifts as you wake up. He pants, “Morning sunshine,” and you push your ass back against him.

“Was I good?” you ask.

“Ohh,” he moans, “You were good.”

His hand comes between your legs and you gasp at the pressure of his thick fingers on your clit. He doesn’t move them, just rests his hand there, then asks “Would you like to cum?”

You nod, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whine as his cock glides against you.

He slows way down. “Because I’m only giving you one today. You sure you want it already?”

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“It’s not even seven a.m.”

“Please, Javi.”

He begins to move his thick fingers, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re seeing stars.

“Ohh,” you moan as the waves of pleasure begin to overtake you. Your body spasms, and your walls clench around nothing.

“Mmmm, mi putita. . .por supuesto ahorita” (My little slut. Of course right now), Javi purrs into your hair. “That’s the–ohhh–thing with addicts,” he pants as he chases his own orgasm. “You want everything right–mmm—now–ohhhh.” As Javi begins to cum, he moves his hand from your clit to his cock. His cock pulses against you, and it’s too easy to imagine it inside you. He cups his hand and seals it over his tip and your front. He slowly thrusts as he cums. He slides against you, coating your folds and clit with his warm spend as your own climax fades.

When Javi is empty, he withdraws his cock, but keeps his hand in place. He rubs his spend over your oversensitive parts, making you flinch and moan.

“Ohh, I know it sweetheart.”

A thick digit breaches your entrance, pushing some cum into you, and he sighs.

“One day, pobrecita. One day.” He adds another finger. “Voy a llenar esta concha con leche” (I’m gonna fill this pastry/cunt with milk/cum).

Your first morning waking up at Javi’s place, he lets you sit at the kitchen counter and watch him make huevos rancheros and cactus.

Over breakfast, he asks, “What do you like to do?”

You shrug.

“Because getting high replaced all your hobbies,” he concludes.

“That's not true.”

“It's not? Then what do you do? Draw? Write? Do you read?”

You scoff. “Yes, I read,” you say with an eye roll and can’t help but add, “Did kidnapping replace all your hobbies?”

There's an instant surge of regret in your chest, but Javi chuckles and lets it slide. “What kind of books? I could pick one up for you.”

You swallow, rest your fork, and ask, “really?”

“Sure,” He nods.

“Okay. Maybe a mystery,” you offer, only because you know you'll need the distraction.

“Good,” he nods. “A mystery.”

Later that day, Javi has to go into the office. He leaves a glass of water for you, a bucket just in case, and he cuffs you to the radiator. He reassures you Steve will come check on you as soon as he gets home. You try your best to get comfortable on the futon mattress.

As soon as Javi leaves, things go somewhat downhill. You have a headache, then your stomach begins to bother you, and the handcuffs are driving you crazy. You’re anxious. You're horny. You’re cold. Why are you horny? After about an hour, you rattle the cuffs on the radiator. When nothing happens, you yell for Steve, then hear movement upstairs.

When Steve comes into Javi’s apartment, you hear him open the door, but it doesn’t sound like it shuts all the way. His footsteps are loud as they approach through the living room. Steve unlocks Javi’s bedroom and pauses in the doorframe. “There she is.” He rests his hands on the top of the doorframe and leans forward, stretching his back as he takes in the scene. “Damn,” he mutters. “You alright?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” He digs into Javi’s nightstand for the key. “Hold on.” He comes over and crouches down on the floor. He smells like cigarettes, and he must smoke the same brand as Javi.

You're mildly surprised by the way your body reacts to Steve’s proximity. You squeeze your legs together, self conscious that you’re gushing. The day before, you were so focused on Javi that you didn’t think much of Steve at the time. But after overhearing him jack off. . .There’s something about hearing a man make those primal noises. It changes his whole face, his whole presence in your eyes.

“C’mere,” Steve offers and extends his massive hands, looming over you. You sit up on your knees, careful not to expose yourself with no panties. He slots his hands under your arms and helps you to your feet. He checks you out and raises an eyebrow. You wonder if he can see through your nightgown. “He’s still got ya in your PJs, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.”

“Looks good on ya, anyway.”

Steve ushers you to the restroom and waits outside. You’re starting to feel a little better already, just having someone around again. His presence distracts your body from its woes.

When you’re out of the restroom, Steve asks if you need anything else. You ask for a glass of juice. He brings you to the kitchen to get some. The sound of children playing outside echoes from the breezeway and you notice the door isn’t shut flush. Before you can really think about it, you begin to walk toward the door, heart pounding. You’re barefoot, and realistically, you’re not going to try to flee, but you want to know you could. You’re not running, you’re walking slowly, curiously as though pulled by a weak magnet toward a chance at freedom.

Steve crosses the room in two strides and steps right into your path. His massive arm wraps around you, halting you dead in your tracks. “Wouldn't do that.” His face is stone. Instinctively, you begin to struggle, not to escape, but to get out of his strong grip. His body overwhelms yours.

His arm tightens, and you whine, “Ow.”

He shakes you once, then loosens his grip. He brings his mouth to your hair and lowers his voice. “Don't make me hurt ya, sugar.” He wraps his arm around your middle and begins to drag you toward the bedroom with the creepy bed. He wrangles you over to the bed with the straps. You don’t resist much, but he’s rough with you anyway.

“Okay, okay,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.”

He throws you down on the bed and pins you with his weight, then begins to strap you in, limb by limb. Your heart is racing. But you don’t feel sick at all anymore. All you feel is the rush.

“Ya know, I should tell Agent Peña ‘bout this,” Steve mutters as he buckles your wrist.

“No, don’t. Tell him I was good. Please. I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

“Yeah, alright. We’ll see.” The bed is probably full sized. Wider than a twin. The leg restraints are spaced out enough that you feel like you’re spread eagle.

Once you’re all strapped down, Steve slowly paces next to the bed looking at you like a piece of meat.

He asks, “True you were beggin’ for cock?”

“No,” you answer as a gut reaction.

“Ya weren't? Huh. Peña’s a liar?”

“He–he got me all worked up on purpose.”

Steve freezes near the foot of the bed and cracks a smile. “So it is true. . .Hmm.” He tilts his head contemplatively. “How'd he do that? Get ya all worked up.” He dangles his fingers to graze your bare ankle. Then he walks back up toward your head, dragging his fingertips over your shin. His fingers lightly circles your kneec twice, then continue up your thigh. He pauses and strokes an abstract pattern on your inner thigh.

You don’t answer him. You don’t have to. He’s already having an effect on you.

“Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna hold out on ya. Want somethin’ from me, sugar? Just ask.”

“Thanks.”

“It's ok, baby.” He lowers his voice. “Really don't mind one bit.” He looks at you hungrily and wets his lips. His fingers get closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. When his fingers graze your outer lip, he peeks under the gown. “He left the door open for me. That was nice,” Steve smiles. “Said ya got a gorgeous pussy, too.” Your legs tense, and his hand returns to your thigh. “Nothin’ to be afraid of, darlin’.”

The leather that’s holding you down is what scares you. It’s the most unsettling feeling.

Steve adjusts himself, and when you follow his hand, you can't pull your eyes away from the bulge in his pants. Wow. He doesn't wear his pants nearly as tight on his ass as Javi, so you hadn't even thought about Steve’s dick. Now it's all you can think about. You're studying the shape his pants are struggling to contain. Never would’ve thought. And, balls. You’re pretty sure he’s got big balls. You wet your lips and realize you're staring.

“Attagirl,” he mutters. “See, that's where my partner and I have different philosophies,” Steve explains. “I could care less if you're drunk, high, outta your mind.” The hand on your thigh slides all the way up to where your thigh meets your torso. “Good pussy’s good pussy.” He traces the crease, right next to your outer lips, and his light touch makes you tingle. “I think a pretty girl deserves all the dick she wants.” He sighs, then raises his eyebrows. “And then some,” he says with a short nod.

“His heart’s in the right place,” Steve says unconvincingly. “Hurts though, don’t it?” He pouts at you as he keeps tracing the crease of your inner thigh. “Never met a whore he didn’t fuck. . .n’ can’t be bothered to give ya just an inch.

He follows your eyes back to his crotch and chuckles darkly. “Boy, you got your eye on the prize, don't ya?” He looks down at himself.

“Mmm,” he grunts when he meets your eyes again. The humor is gone from his face.

He looks at the leather strap around your arm. “I’ll take mercy on ya,” he mutters and takes his hand out from between your legs. He pauses with his hands on the strap. “Gonna be good for me?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

He unbuckles the strap. The metal of the buckle flicks against your inner arm. You don’t move your arm, making good on your promise to be good. Then the mattress creaks and groans as he gets up on the bed with you. He straddles one of your knees and leans forward, bracing his right hand on the mattress near your torso. His left hand returns between your legs. This time, he goes straight for your cunt. He smiles when he feels how wet you are. He lightly rubs you, teasing your dripping folds up and down. He falls into a trance. He gathers your slick and brings it to your clit. He scoots up on the bed so his head is above yours and his crotch is at your hip. He looks into your eyes as he circles your most sensitive spot. A knot is already forming in your stomach, making your pelvis lift into his hand. He wets his bottom lip, then bites it as he adds more pressure. Then speed. Your mouth falls open and a moan slips out.

His lips form a small ‘o’. “Ooh,” he marvels. “Oh, you’re a real sweet thing, I can tell.” His fingertips slide down, and one of them teases your entrance, making an audible, rhythmic smacking sound. Then he slowly pushes the finger inside. His eyes roll up toward the ceiling, and his head tilts up too. You watch his neck veins. There’s some faded tattoo ink barely visible on his chest, poking up from his collar when the angle is right. He presses his hard bulge against your hip and you gasp with a bolt of arousal.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and you moan. “Yeah, ya want that, don’t ya?” He gives you another slow thrust against the hip. “You want it right here.” He pushes another finger into you. “Ohh, yeah.” His upper palm massages your clit as his fingers pump into you.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry.” You twitch at the thought. “But you’re gonna cum on these fingers first. Hear me?”

You nod and take a deep breath. Your back arches. You reach for his pants.

“There ya go,” he nods as if that’s why he unbuckled you in the first place. “Ohh, you’re gonna go wild.”

You grab his bulge–it’s more than a handful–and massage him through his pants.

“Mmm. Yeah,” he whispers. Your nipples harden with his practiced touch, and you sigh, unable to take any more tension. His fingers curl inside you and he whispers, “C’mon, now.” The deep whisper is enough.

“Ohh,” you moan. He nods in encouragement and his upper palm bears down on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself unravel. Your spasming walls squeeze and soak his fingers.

“Yeahh, attagirl.”

As your climax fades, he withdraws his fingers and feverishly unbuckles his belt. You throb in anticipation. It won't take much to tease another one out of you. Your core twitches as he shoves down his briefs and his thick cock springs free, taking your breath away. He gets between your legs and holds his stiff manhood loosely as he lines himself up. He shakes it heavily up and down, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. Oh, God it feels so–you’re already about to–

–Steve hesitates.

In the driveway, a car pulls up and stops.

Steve stops what he’s doing. “Alright, let's see what the boss wants,” he says with an air of inconvenience as he tucks his erection into his briefs.

“Thought you were partners,” you say and hope you don't sound too disappointed.

“On paper, sure. “ He buttons and zips up his pants. “On paper I'm a good cop, too,” he winks.

Steve pats your cheek and says, “hang in there.” He gets off the bed, then leans in close and whispers, “give it to ya next chance I get. . .skip the preamble, how's that?”

You bite your lip. Just as the front door begins to unlock, Steve sits down in a chair next to the bed, with his hands clasped in his lap.

—--

Javi opens the door.

“All good at the office?” Steve asks.

“All good,” Javi reports, and he surveys you with his eyes as he approaches. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, she just wanted a change of scenery,” Steve reports, mercifully. Javi looks at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugs it off.

“How are you feeling?” Javi asks you with a hand on his hip and a serious look. He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you and Steve, who’s on the same side.

“Okay,” you reply.

Javi clenches his jaw and furrows his brow. His hand frames your jaw and he looks at your eyes. Then he lets go of you.

"Good," Javi nods. Then squints and asks, "He touch you?"

You look at Steve. Steve raises his eyebrows curiously. He doesn't deny touching you, but his face also doesn't give you any clues about the right answer. He’s sitting in amused suspense. Javi raises his eyebrows at you like a challenge, waiting on you to speak. You look at Steve again, and Steve winks. Unsure what it means, you begin to slowly shake your head no.

Javi clenches his jaw and his eyes narrow. His head whips to Steve and he asks, "Why not?"

Steve sighs and uncrosses his arms. He extends his hand to Javi. Javi brings Steve's hand to his nose, takes a whiff of his fingers, and cracks a smile. "Don't lie to me, putita." Javi closes his eyes, draws in your scent again, then opens his eyes and mouth as he brings Steve's middle and index fingers to his lips. Javi locks eyes with you as he tastes you on Steve's fingers. Your heart races. You failed whatever test this was.

Javi drops Steve's hand and brings his own hand to cup your jaw. "Pobrecita. . ." His hand dwarfs your face. "What’s the matter? Te confunde?” (It confuses you)

You nod, and your voice is small. "You said it's yours."

"What's mine?"

You look down at yourself and swallow. "My body?"

Javi nods. "Say it."

Your eyes settle on what you can see of his gold chain under his shirt. "This pussy is yours."

"That's right," Javi nods condescendingly. "Good girl." He brings his hand from your cheek to your thigh and squeezes it. He nods toward Steve and says, "con mi permiso" (with my permission). "Still confused?"

You shake your head.

“That's all he did? Touch you?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

Javi addresses Steve. "Alright, c’mon.” He beckons him, and Steve stands up with his hands still clasped in front of himself.

“Show her your cock.”

Steve undoes his pants again. He slides them down over the bulge of his still-hard cock, then pauses.

“Pants off,” Javi adds matter-of-factly. Steve sits back down to unlace his shoes, then takes them off. He pulls off his pants, and he's left wearing black socks and white briefs with a red and blue stripe around the waistband. Thigh muscles are massive.

“Good news for you, putita.” Javi nods toward Steve. “This one’ll fuck anything.” Your cheeks heat up and Steve shakes his head in amusement at Javi.

“Says the guy who has his own room at a brothel.”

Javi looks at your body hungrily and crosses his arms. “Give it to her,” he mutters without looking at Steve.

When Steve stands up, Javi takes his place, manspreading with his hands tucked under his arms, straining his short-sleeve button-up.

Steve mounts the bed again, putting himself between your legs. He pulls his briefs down under his balls, and you let out a little gasp. His cock is even more engorged than it was before. It’s so thick, and the veins are beautiful. He looks even bigger than Javi, but it might be an effect of his lighter, finer pubic hair. He braces a hand on the mattress again, hovering over you.

You glance at Javi and he's watching intently as Steve lines up his cock between your legs. The touch of his tip at your dripping hole makes you shiver in arousal and your nipples pucker. Steve smiles to himself under his mustache. He notches his tip half inside your entrance, then looks at Javi.

Javi makes a subtle beckoning motion with one hand, and Steve begins to push into you. You gasp as his girth begins to spread you open. He pushes further, and you whimper.

Javi scoots closer and lays a big, warm hand on your tied-down arm. You look at him and he reassures you, “You can take it, I promise.”

Then, Steve plunges to the hilt, dividing your insides with a loud grunt. You moan and lock eyes with him as he looks up at you darkly. Your body rushes to accommodate the heft of him inside you.

“Good girl,” Javi mutters to himself with his eyes fixed where your bodies are joined.

Steve withdraws most of his length, then Javi raises his palm in a stop motion and Steve freezes, biting his lips together. Javi stands up, and walks toward Steve for a better point of view.

“Go,” Javi mutters, crossing his arms again. There's a bulge growing in Javi’s restrictive jeans, and he's not doing anything about it.

Steve pushes into you again, making you moan. He pauses for only an instant before backing out again, and right away he’s pushing back in. “Fuck,” he mutters as his thick cock disappears into your hole once more.

“How is it?” Javi asks him. “Juicy, right?”

“Nngh–yeah,” Steve answers as he brings his hips back, then slams into you harder and his balls slap against you. “Goddamn,” Steve mutters. “Tighter than ya’d think.”

“Hm,” Javi hums with a straight face, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “He's gonna break you in for me.” He looks at Steve's cock sliding out of you then at Steve's face, twisted with arousal. “Right, partner?”

“Goddamn right,” Steve breathes. He ramps up to a steady rhythm, fucking you gradually harder until the force is pushing you up on the bed.

“Hold on,” Javi mutters and the vein on Steve's forehead swells with effort as he stops with only his tip inside. Steve wets his lips and rubs them together. Javi tightens the restraints to hold you steady. While Javi is is busy with that, Steve rocks ever so slightly into you, moving less than an inch forward and back. It’s so subtle it could be an accident, but it must provide relief because he moans quietly. At the sound of his noise and the look of his face, you whimper and your cunt spasms once.

“Nngh,” Steve reacts.

“Okay,” Javi announces, then stands so he can roughly see things from Steve’s point of view again. Steve resumes with a slow, careful pace.

Javi wets his lips as he watches your cunt swallow Steve's cock. Steve's cock pulls at your pussy each time it withdraws, and the sight seems to darken Javi’s eyes with lust. You twitch again.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, then looks over his shoulder “Can I?”

“Don't let her come on your cock,” Javi answers.”

Hearing Javi talk about Steve’s cock is almost enough to do it.

Steve sighs and looks at the ceiling, in an almost eye-roll. His arms strain his shirt. His sweat wafts toward you and makes your knees weak. He draws in a deep breath as he slowly pushes in again.

You imagine if the situation was different, if you were just some slut they picked up at a bar, how much fun you could have with the two of them.

You twitch around him, and he pulls out in a hurry. “Sorry darlin’,” he mumbles. He sits back on his knees and pumps himself. “Where do you want it,” he asks, staring at your body.

“Uh,” you stammer, then realize he's not asking you.

Javi pulls the gown down under your tits. Steve strokes himself faster until his breath gets uneven. He pauses, scoots up your body to straddle your middle, then resumes. You admire his balls as his fist slides up and down his shaft. His hand is so large, yet it doesn’t dwarf his cock.

Steve’s eyes narrow at your tits. He pumps himself faster and his mouth drifts open until he points his cock at your chest and moans, “Ohhh—ohhhh, fuck,” painting your tits with his cum. Your nipples sharpen as the warm spend spreads. As the last of his cum dribbles out, Steve sighs.

“Good,” Javi mutters, then comes up toward the head of the bed again. Steve tucks his softening cock away and gets off the bed. He reaches down to the floor to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his jeans. Then he pulls the chair toward the foot of the bed, and manspreads in his briefs to watch Javi.

Javi dips two fingers into Steve’s cum on your chest. He spreads it around slowly. He circles each of your nipples until they’re painfully erect.

Javi swipes up a bit of cum from between your breasts and brings his fingers to your lips. You take his thick digits into your mouth and taste the salt of Steve’s seed. Then you gently suck. Javi gets you to clean both fingers, one at a time, then he licks them himself.

Javi brushes your temple with his thumb. “Let’s hope this is rock bottom.”

—---

Thank you so much for reading. To help with the next ones, I would love to know what you liked most about it, and your thots are welcome, too 🖤

tagging people who asked for part 2 🖤

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ohheypedrito @weddingfairy @neobanguniberse @ladyscarlettdixon @zliteraturehoe @planet-marz1

767 notes · View notes

deanbrainrotwritings · 10 months

Text

— ALL I WANNA DO

SUMMARY : aka. part 2 of jump on into the fire. in which she finally makes a decision about ben’s previous offer to start a family together.

PAIRING : soldier boy x supe!reader (f)

CHARACTERS : billy butcher, hughie campbell

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, mutual masturbation, cum play, dacryphilia (Ben, *said scoldingly*), angst

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : title from splashh song. daydreaming is so fun, this is the birth of my imagination as i watched the boys. also, i chose the reader’s super name to be ‘guardian’ bc I play too much destiny 😔. edited this to be part two of jump on into the fire Xx

To say things were awkward and tense between her and Soldier Boy was an understatement. Even the rest of the team could feel the tension between them, but since Y/N tried to be as discreet as possible about their relationship, they chopped it up to her being upset at him. Especially after the events at Herogasm.

She could have handled the situation better, but the implication that he liked her, as in enough to have kids with her, set alarms off in her head. He put her on the spot and she wasn’t ready for that for multiple reasons.

For one, she didn’t always buy that pathetic, wide-eyed look he’d give them when he was talking about his mistakes, because he didn’t really feel all that bad about it. He’s a soldier, those were just collateral damage, casualties that occurred as he did his job, and so it doesn’t actually matter to him, and it probably never will. The problem wasn’t that he was evil, because he wasn’t, that was all Homelander. The problem was that Ben simply didn’t care. He’s a soldier meant to be ordered around, it didn't matter if he was right or wrong.

That night, just for a few seconds, she stopped seeing him that way. He said something sweet and instead of laughing it off or saying ‘shut up’, she actually liked the idea of being his, of starting a family.

That realisation was terrifying.

What would the rest of the team say? Even without MM, Annie, Frenchie, or Kimiko around, she could imagine their faces if they ever found out that she and Ben had a complicated relationship. Especially MM, and she empathised with him the most. She felt like she was betraying them, for what? A crush?

“You alright, Guardian?” Butcher asked, standing next to her. He was trying to analyse her, trying to get into her head and why she was now staring off past the glass door. She looked at him, eyes flashing up to his face and then to his posture, curiously tilting her head to the side at the sudden interest he had in her spaciness.

“Yeah, why?” She asked, looking away from him to stare out the door again, the nice view from the Legend’s place. She knew he’d probably, finally, bring up the awkwardness between her and Ben, his sudden sour mood, and the way he hadn’t tried to make a move on her since that night. Or maybe Butcher was going to sweep it under the rug like he seemed to be doing these days, focusing mainly on the fact that both her and Ben were still getting the job done properly. At least she was.

Ben seemed to have a lot of other stuff going on and what had happened at Herogasm made it clear that he wasn’t as okay or as in control as he liked to pretend he was. She was there after all, when Ben had confessed to Hughie that he’d blacked out, with those wet, puppy-dog eyes, claiming to be a good guy.

He was a bully, but more than anything, Ben was truly pathetic. He wanted to be the best, to stay at the top, to prove he was worth more than anyone else, and he hated it when anyone threatened that. It’s why he was on board with ending Homelander. It’s why he treated everyone around him like complete shit, especially if he felt they were trying to rise above him.

“Soldier Boy don’t want you to come,” he said bluntly, gazing at her without much of a fuck about how she’ll react. She quickly turned to look at him, confused and irritated as soon as those words came out of his mouth.

“What the fuck?” She glared at him, but mostly, she was pissed at Ben. Could he not tell her that himself? Then Butcher had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction and she narrowed his eyes. He only raised his hands with a smirk on his face when she shoved him for laughing. “Assholes!” She didn’t wait for him to say anything, just rolled her eyes and started to walk angrily to where Ben was now changing into his uniform.

When she slammed the door open, the doorknob cracked a hole into the wall and she could hear the Legend shout asking what the noise was but she couldn’t give two fucks about answering. Ben turned around to look at her, his face was serious at first when he zipped up the front of his suit, but then he froze when he saw her fuming.

“Why the fuck are you benching me?” She heard some shuffling by the door and she glared at Hughie and Butcher who were being nosy, only catching Hughie scrambling away and pulling Butcher with him.

“I’m not benching you,” Ben started, turning away from her unnecessarily to cover his chest with the heavy armour piece. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I’ve been doing this alone for years. I don’t need you to protect me.” She narrowed her eyes at his back, staring at him as he practically ignored her. This was probably the longest conversation they’ve both had since that night, but the room was still thick with awkward and even sexual tension that set her skin on fire. “I’m going, fuck you if you don’t like it,” she said firmly after a few minutes of silence.

“The fuck you are,” he replied angrily, finally turning around to face her.

She hated herself, the way her body was already reacting to his hard stare. With his stupid green eyes practically boring into her, trying to force her to listen to him rather than get in the way of his focus. Because he knew he’d be too busy worrying about her getting mind-fucked to actually focus on anything. He could get Butcher and Hughie killed, but actually he didn’t give a shit about them, he could get her killed.

He couldn’t tell her that. If he did, she’d push him further away than she already had. To think he fucked up the one good thing he saw coming out of this shit mission, the one good thing in his entire miserable and disappointing life. He wanted her so bad and he wished he could take back what he said so things weren’t awkward between them. Because having her in any way that he could get her was better than this, but it was already out there. The implication of what he really wanted from her.

He couldn’t force her to want it. He couldn’t force her to like him. Hell, he didn’t even like himself. He was a fucking disappointment, so why would she think he was more than that? He was a fool and she was better than him. She didn’t sign up to work for Vought, she didn’t wear some stupid fucking suit for a slut, or get paid for saving the lives of the people in her city. She doesn’t give a shit about fame. She’s just her.

Y/N L/N, with a normal, boring job, and a secret life living up to the name her city gave her, the Guardian.

“Give me one good reason why it’s too dangerous for me to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly for him to give her something. She knew he’d have way too many things to list and that each one would mean nothing to her. So, all he did was glare at her, cursing softly under his breath knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument, but fuck if it didn’t make him like her more.

It hadn’t gone as bad as Ben had thought it would go. Y/N didn’t get injured or even have to fight at all. Whether he’d liked it or not, he has Hughie to thank for that. There was no struggle or any big fight that broke out when they found Mindstorm with Hughie and Butcher, who was now awake.

Dan was distracted with Hughie and from a distance and at an angle, Ben threw his knife at Dan’s eye, preventing him from using his abilities on them. Y/N had been shocked, almost as much as Hughie when he’d bashed his head in with his shield, but the news he’d gotten from Mindstorm was something that left him feeling conflicted and angry, but most of all completely disappointed after calling Homelander.

“Everything good?” He heard Y/N speak up from the doorway. He forced himself to smile at her, not because he didn’t want to see her and wanted her to go away, but because he didn’t want to show that anything was wrong. Nothing was wrong anyway, not necessarily, he just didn’t want to believe that Homelander was his son, but it all made sense. Homelander was as disappointing as Ben’s father thought he was. Basically, Homelander was not the son Ben would have liked to have had.

“Yeah,” he responded, eyeing her every move guardedly. She shut the door behind her and looked around the room at first, probably expecting him to have had some granny or a sexworker in the room. He rolled his eyes, but knew she had every reason to think that about him. When she saw no one, she walked closer to him and he straightened up a little since she clearly was here for more than just small talk.

She didn’t seem to be avoiding him anymore, but that didn’t make him feel any better. She practically rejected him that night and made him feel unwanted. He still remembers the sting he felt when she just brushed him off. Earlier, she’d been pissed at him for slapping Hughie, for abandoning Butcher, and for being insensitive about the nun and the priest he’d killed, and he knew probably other things he did made her angry, but she got over it quickly. Despite having seen him lose it on more than one occasion, she always seemed to see straight through him and he hated it. Like right now, she tilted her head to the side slightly and her eyes moved across his face, trying to and succeeding in easily getting a read on him.

“Liar. You can’t hide that pathetically sad look on your face. You look like a kicked puppy,” she chuckled, looking away to trace random patterns on the surface of the table she leaned against. He narrowed his eyes at her and scoffed, looking away to stop her from doing that again, even though he missed hearing her and seeing her. “You’re not gonna tell me what Mindstorm said to you?” She bit her lip, watching his reaction to her question.

“Stop doing that,” he warned, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. He looked up at her again, really took her in because he missed her despite what she might think about him and despite the irritation she made him feel when she tried to get him to open up or talk about his feelings like he was some sissy. He couldn’t help his next actions, the expression on her face was so gentle and troubled that he found he’d somehow closed the distance between them and thoughtlessly pulled her into a kiss to ease all those things from her face.

He expected her to hit him or push him away, hell, all of those things, but she just stood there for the fleeting moment in which he pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled away, just slightly, he tried to gauge her reaction and saw mostly confusion on her face. He licked his lips and gently held her face, frustrated and needy for her, but all he did was gently brush his thumbs across her warm and soft cheeks.

“You don’t hate me,” he said quietly. It was the one thing he was sure of at this point. No one really treated him like he was a person. They were scared of him, for good reason, or they just needed his abilities. Not her. She wasn’t scared of him, not always, and she definitely wasn’t using him despite working with Butcher which she met through Maeve.

His brows were furrowed, just watching her curiously as she gazed at his face, analysing every twitch in his face, every change in expression. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, but she mimicked his face, brows furrowing as she thought about why she just couldn’t hate him the way everyone else did or even why she wasn’t afraid of him.

To be fair, she didn’t know anything about him except from what she’d seen of him getting tortured. Somehow, that meant more to her than all the people that died while he was doing his job. Somehow, her feelings for him seemed to sprout and bloom despite knowing how MM felt about him. She cared about the team, probably more than they cared about her, and that made Ben angry. They didn’t deserve her and neither did he.

She should have been afraid, she should hate him the way everyone else does, especially with knowing he’s killed dozens of innocent people, with his temper that would drive him to be unnecessarily violent, the toxic masculinity that exuded from him. He was everything she’d hate in a person, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t hate him. She wanted to help him get better and to be there for him every step of the way. As foolish as it sounded, she felt she could fix him or at least soften his personality because so far, she’s learned all the reasons why he is the way he is, and she thinks given the chance, he could actually change. Not that he’d ever let her help him.

That was why she was so panicked when he’d shown genuine care and interest in her. What if she gave him the chance to be with her? What if she ended up falling for him only to be discarded once he was bored with her? What if he was incapable of changing and he treated her just like he treats everyone else? If he loved the Countess and he treated her the way he did, why would it be any different with her?

He interrupted her thoughts with another kiss, a gentle and almost sweet kiss that was so unlike him. It was meant to put her at ease and it nearly did, she felt her stomach flutter either nervously or because it made her swoon. She felt how loosely he held her face, giving her an out, and easy escape from being anywhere near him. And even though her mind once again screamed at her to get out, her feet were planted where she stood and she started to kiss him back just as softly.

HIs beard tickled the skin around her lips, but she didn’t mind. Instead, she had memories of other times she’d felt that when he kissed her, times where he worshipped every inch of her body with his mouth, and had his head buried between her legs. Her heart was beating quickly and roughly in her chest at the feeling of him kissing her so gently, for the first time, it wasn’t rough and careless. His lips moved tenderly and slowly against hers, stealing the breath from the lungs and making her knees weak.

She’d never been kissed quite like that and she didn’t think Ben even had the capacity to give someone a kiss like that. He was gentle and he wasn’t pressing, but there was still a hint of desperation and need for her that made her cling to the straps on his thin waist.

His warm hands slowly moved from her face to the hem of her shirt, which he played with contemplatively before simply moving them underneath it. He grasped her hips and tugged her forward until she was pressed tightly against his body with a quiet moan from her being muffled against his mouth. He could feel all of her even when clothed fully, but the soft and flimsy material of her sleepwear only triggered all the memories he had of her own body being trapped beneath his. The way she felt so perfect under his hands, every curve and every dip of her body felt as if it had been sculpted just for his touch.

He pulled away from her plush lips just to pull her shirt up and off her body. Carefully and deliberately, he stripped her, dragging his hands and mouth along her form to replace every article of clothing removed from her. Her skin started to heat up the longer he took, her body tensed with each teasing touch of his, waves of shivers following every touch, kiss, suck, and bite. And soon, she was standing naked in front of him. Her skin was flushed and she was breathing as heavily as he was. Her eyes just stared up at him, filled with an endless conflict and desire that he understood, but it also hurt more than he’d like to admit.

Still, she was the one who slid her hand to the back of his neck to pull him back down for a searing kiss. Her fingers threading through his hair, keeping him close as he busied himself with taking his suit off with her help. He was impatient with himself, undoing every buckle and loosening every strap, zipping everything down as swiftly as he could until he was as naked as she was.

This was new for him. He wasn’t in a frenzy to fuck. He took his time, moved slowly, watching her desire for him bloom the longer he took. Suddenly, it hit him that it felt different and new.

He stared down at her, eyes sweeping over the expanse of her face as he slid his hands down her back and he bent his knees to reach the back of her thighs. Looking up at her and the way she looked down at him, it turned him on. Like he was worshipping her. It was short-lived when she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him control of her body. He moved forward with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and he kissed her neck and shoulder, nuzzling her sensitive skin and inhaling the clean scent of her skin.

Her uneven breaths and the little sighs that slipped from her parted lips spurred him on the whole way to the bed he’d claimed as his own. He placed his knees on the soft mattress and carefully dipped her until she let go of him and let herself bounce slightly against the soft sheets. There was a little smile on her face when he gazed down at her, and for once, she wasn’t thinking about what her team would want or how anyone would feel if they saw her with Ben, she focused solely on what she wanted and how she felt.

At that moment, everything seemed to click. When she reached out for Ben’s face, he leaned down to meet her resting his arm by her head. Her fingers once again tangled in his soft hair when he sealed her lips with his in a purposeful kiss, firm and full of promise before he moved his mouth down to her jaw. His teeth grazed her jawline, sliding down until he bit gently at her pulse point, drawing a gasp and a little moan when he swiped his tongue across the spot and sucked possessively. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her nails pushing into the muscle of his shoulder.

Heat flooded between her legs and she arched her back, his hand sliding up her side and under the curve to hold her in place. She couldn't decide whether to squeeze his legs in attempts to close her own or to open them wider for him. He pretended not to notice that and continued to kiss her neck, his lip lingered on her skin, proprietorial and ravenous as they trailed down her body. He took his time and made sure his mouth had been on every inch of her skin as he moved lower, biting at her collarbones and sucking on the skin above her breasts.

Little by little, she became more impatient. His plump lips wrapped around one of her nipples, lapping and sucking so her breathing would pick up. He slid his hand up from the arch of her back to tweak her nipple and pinch it between his forefinger and thumb, on the edge of being painful and pleasurable. Her clit throbbed, desperate for him to pick up the pace or give her what she wanted, and she could feel just how wet she was as the air around them hit her core.

She could have touched herself if she wanted, but she liked the torture, the ache that grew between her legs just waiting and letting him take his time with her body. It was hard to stay in control and she pulled roughly at the soft strands of hair that she clung to in order to stop herself from ruining the fun. Everything felt so sensitive and a million times more delicious, as if induced by drugs, but there was something about him that gave her that high every time. Maybe it was the fact that she’s never quite been fucked or touched like this before.

He’d look up at her every now and then, smirking occasionally at the sight of her with her head tipped back, moaning and squirming impatiently. He gently teased her skin with his nose, trailing his lips down the centre of her stomach, squeezing her sides when she wiggled her hips to get his attention. He smiled and nipped at her hip bones, dragging his bearded mouth across her thighs while avoiding where she clearly needed him.

Eventually, there was no part of her body that was untouched by his mouth and hands--except for her aching and wet cunt. But when he got to it, he just huffed out a breath over her dripping cunt to watch her squirm and lifted himself back up her body. He pressed a hard kiss to her neck and then kissed her lips, his tongue easily entering her hot mouth. They both moaned into each other’s mouths as he practically devoured her mouth, firm and needy while holding the back of her neck and tilting her head so he could kiss her as hungrily as he wanted.

“You’re so goddamn delicious, doll.” He pulled away from her breathlessly, his lips wet and swollen. He sat back on his legs, enjoying the sight of her looking just as wrecked as he felt. She was flushed and warm and her hungry eyes were slowly dragging over his face and down his body. She licked her lips when she got to his cock, hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip.

“Ben,” she murmured, a hint of neediness in her voice that made him smirk. Using her elbow to lift herself up, she reached over to wrap her hand around the base of his cock before he could continue to tease her.

“Shit,” he groaned. His hips bucked into her hand and she slowly started to lift her hand up, thumbing some precum over the soft head, and squeezing all the way down until he let out a strangled moan.

“Touch me,” she whispered, and even though he detected it being a command more than a plea, he complied. He dragged his hands up the back of her thighs and spread her legs, his hooded green eyes glued on her glistening folds.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart,” he praised, dragging two fingers from her slick entrance to her clit. He lifted the wet fingers to his face and she blushed when he inhaled the scent of her arousal before slipping the two fingers into his mouth with a satisfied moan. “Christ, you taste so good.” He brought his fingers back to her pussy, pushing his two fingers into her entrance, his fingertips curled to rub against her walls everytime he pushed them in and out, going deeper and deeper, slowly, and only going fast when he felt the way she expanded inside.

“Holy fuck, Ben,” she gasped, her pussy squeezing his fingers and gazing up at him with her pretty glazed eyes.

Even in her dazed state, she continued to jerk him off with quick, stuttered and uneven tugs. He could feel his own orgasm beginning to form with the way she was looking at him, his stomach tightening when his eyes flickered down to her hand, now wet and coated in his precum.

She moved her hips eagerly against his hand and only stopped when he flattened a large hand on her stomach, a small cry leaving her lips when he added a third finger into her squelching cunt. “That’s right, baby, cum on my fingers,” he encouraged, lowering his hand to her pelvis to quickly massage her clit with his thumb.

“Shit… Ben,” she hissed, letting her orgasm wash over her, wave after wave of pleasure making her body shake. He groaned softly, shoving his fingers deep into her cunt to brush his fingers against the sensitive spot deep inside over and over until she collapsed onto her back, her hand becoming still on his cock to wrap around his wrist instead.

“That’s my good girl,” he lauded, slowly slipping his fingers out of her. She murmured his name softly at the praise as he slid his hand up and down her sides comfortingly and stared down at his fingers. They were coated in clear slick and creamy cum that made his mouth water. “Shit, look at that,” he chuckled, licking his lips. He leaned over her, shoving a clean hand to the back of her head to grasp her hair. With a harsh pull, he forced her eyes open so she could watch him lick away her release from his fingers. “Make me cum and I’ll fill you up,” he promised, then shoved two of his saliva-coated fingers into her mouth, thrusting them in and out of her mouth the way he would if it was his cock.

He scooted closer, close enough so that her thighs were thrown over his and his cockhead brush against her stomach with every quick drag of her hand on his wet cock. He purposely pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth, moaning softly when she gagged momentarily and closed her eyes to blink tears away when he kept shoving them as deep as he could into her throat.

“No, no, look at me, honey. You’re so fucking pretty when you--oh, fuck,” he rasped, grunting softly in surprise. His cock twitched excitedly as hot tears flowed down her cheeks and she moaned softly when he tightened his grip on her hair. He came with a soft growl of her name, spilling hot and messy on her stomach and breasts, feeling an overwhelming intensity in his orgasm while gazing into her watery eyes. He didn’t know if it was the eye contact, or the way her eyes glazed over with tears with her lashes sticking together that pushed him over the edge, but whatever it was, it made him cum faster than they both expected.

“Jesus, Ben,” she laughed softly, releasing his now limp cock. He just panted heavily, leaning back on his legs with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. He basked in the aftershocks of the mind-blowing orgasm he just had with his hands on her hips and she licked her lips while wiping away tears from her cheeks and eyes.

He looked back down at her once he recomposed himself, catching her playing with his cum splattered on her chest and in the middle of lifting her fingers into her mouth. She looked at him and snickered when she saw the look on his face as she started to lick at the cum on her fingers, his eyes darkening and his cock hardening all over again.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her roughly. She moaned softly, pleasantly surprised when he rocked his hips against hers, sliding his cock through her folds and over her clit teasingly. He reached between their bodies and lined himself up with her entrance, easily thrusting into her with a snap of his hips.

He carefully rocked his hips against hers, lifting himself up slightly so they parted from the searing kiss to gaze down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t protest, just slid her hands along the hefty planes of his back, stopping only when she got to his broad shoulders to hold onto them. He stopped suddenly after letting his eyes drift over her face, then he hid his own in her neck and slid his arm under the small of her back.

“Homelander’s my son,” he mumbled against the connection between her neck and shoulder. She froze and her eyes widened when she deciphered what he’d said and slid her hands from his back to push at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge. “That’s what Mindstorm told me,” he added quietly.

“What the fuck, Ben?” She grumbled, yanking his hair in attempts to get him off her, but he just growled and swivelled his hips defiantly. “You’re gonna tell me that now?” She protested and he gave an unhumourous nod into her neck, lifting himself up just to kiss her to distract her from what he’d blurted out. She kissed him back begrudgingly with her eyes open.

“I knew you’d react this way,” he said softly against her lips. She bit his lip roughly and he hissed, pulling away to glare at her and was met with a fierce glare from her.

“Yeah, fuck you,” she muttered, squirming angrily in attempts to get away from him. She felt used, as if he’d hide that from her just to get a quick fuck.

“Please,” he whispered, pulling out when he realised she wasn’t giving him a chance to explain himself.

“Please what?” She spat, shoving him away to think about what he just revealed. Out of everyone she’s ever met, Homelander was someone she truly despised. He was an utter piece of shit and he had a long list of vile traits that she despised in people, supe or not. He was a fucking child and he was out of control, no one ever having told him ‘no’ his whole life. “What the fuck do you want from me?” She asked, moving away to pace around the room or even to leave Ben the same way she had before.

“You know what I want,” he retorted, suddenly it wasn’t about Homelander. Fear of being left alone again made Ben grab her arm to stop her from getting out of bed. “You’re not fucking stupid, sweetheart,” he reminded, gently tugging her back to him. She didn’t budge, but she looked over at him when he let her go. She caught a glimpse of the resignation on his face, the vulnerability she’d rarely seen on his face, before he could mask it. She sighed in defeat, deciding to hear him out after all.

“Ben…” She sat on the bed, facing him and reached out to brush his hair away from his face. He moved away from her touch, sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to her. She dropped her hand in her lap and watched him, her eyes drifting to the large window in front of him that let her see what he could no longer hide from her.

“If you’re not gonna say what I wanna hear, don’t say anything and get out,” he said harshly, his shoulders slumped and overall, he looked defeated. She’d expected him to lash out or to hear how he didn’t want to kill Homelander, but it was probably worse to see him like this.

“Ben, it won’t work out.” She said it softly, but it hurt him like a million knives in the chest. In reality, the hurt he felt hearing her say that didn’t compare to the forty years of torture he was put through in Russia.

“It could work… I could make it work,” he said quietly, “when we’re done with Black Noir and Homelander, and I will kill him… It’ll just be you and me, Y/N. Maybe… we can start a family somewhere else, far away from all this bullshit.” He looked over his shoulder slightly just to read her face when she remained quiet.

She chewed on her lip, frowning as she considered his words. He was still willing to kill Homelander, his son. That should be worth something. He actually wanted something normal when he was done with this and she was more surprised than doubtful of his words. He spoke so softly, as if he’d had this plan all his life and finally found someone who could fill in the faceless mother of the children he wanted in his fantasy. He was willing to retire and he wanted that with her.

After spending years being an abusive and toxic asshole, then wasting decades more of his life being tortured, it made sense to her that he just wanted to cherish the rest of his time doing shit he’s always wanted rather than trying to prove he was worth something. In many ways, being a father could fulfil that need to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment. After he’d been told that so much by his father, he was incapable of seeing himself as anything but a disappointment. This was his way out and she could easily open that door up for him.

Or she could slam that door in his face like a coward. She could continue to be too afraid to be hated by a team that didn’t give two fucks about her. Why she prioritised their opinions on her puzzled her as much as Ben being vulnerable right now.

“Get out,” he muttered, staring at her with his face hard. She blinked and focused on him again, her mouth fell open to say something, but he turned away and was sitting straight. The walls he’d let down were up again, probably stronger than ever before, and she made her way over to him on her knees, sliding her hand up his neck to cup his chin and tilt his head back so he’d look up at her.

He stared at her with steely eyes, but she kissed him, painfully squeezing his chin until he moaned and opened his mouth to let her tongue slip past his lips. He reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist, silently telling her to loosen her grip and she did, kissing him firmly, saying everything she couldn’t say with the heated kiss. He melted into her, turning slowly until she had to pull away to accommodate the new position he was kissing her in.

“I’m not gonna let you push me around and tell me what to do,” she murmured between kisses, moving up the bed with him until her head was settled against the fluffy pillows.

“I won’t do that,” he promised, taking his soft cock in his hand and jerking it until he was stiff and ready again.

“There’s a lot more,” she murmured distractedly.

“I can imagine,” he laughed softly, gently pushing himself into her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

➥ your sword versus my dagger

taglist

@syrma-sensei @murdockscumsock @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

soldier boy masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy smut #the boys #the boys smut #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x fem!reader #soldier boy x female reader #3.3

523 notes · View notes

piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 3 months

Note

A 1k fic prompt for you! How about Ed being really sure that his "punishment" when he gets back to the ship will be way worse than just the crew making him wear a sack and a bell, and Stede being sad that Ed was willing to come back even with the assumption that he was going to get, like, keelhauled?

Oh this one is JUICY, I love it. Ed baby please accept that you don't deserve to be hurt

The room was empty when Ed woke up.

He tried to let himself drift back to awareness slowly. He felt better than he had since he’d been dead - something about being back on the Revenge, everyone properly together again. Something about having Stede with him again.

They’d fallen asleep in the bed together. Stede had insisted on it, since Ed was hurt and all. They’d been proper gentlemen about it, fell asleep with just their little fingers linked.

The crew hadn’t objected when Stede had turned back up with Ed in tow. They’d been expecting it, actually, it looked like, and that was…troubling.

Stede had said he would talk to them when he got up, to discuss their conditions for allowing Ed back on the ship. He must have wanted Ed to be able to sleep in a bit.

Ed was grateful for that. He didn’t know how well he’d be able to sleep for the next…little while. Depended on how angry they were at him, he guessed. He got up slowly, reminding his sore body that these aches and pains would probably feel like heaven compared to how he’d feel tomorrow.

The crew had been expecting him back. He’d hurt all of them. They would be wanting revenge, naturally.

Ed tried not to worry too much about it. He’d been through floggings before, those rarely killed you. Keel-haulings didn’t kill you all the time. Chopping off his gun hand, or a leg - that was something you could live through.

“Oh, Ed, good morning!” That was Stede, poking his head in the door, and Ed gave him a tight, nervous smile. “Just been talking to the crew. Jim and Frenchie were voted to be the ones to deliver your conditions, does that sound alright?”

Ed nodded bravely. “Sure.”

“Great.” Stede gave him a quick smile. “We’ll get this business sorted, and then we’ll have breakfast. Be right back!”

Stede was, Ed thought, being very optimistic about Ed’s ability to eat breakfast once all was said and done. Great, now he had to worry about disappointing Stede if he was hurt too badly to keep anything down.

Ed folded his hands in front of him as Stede led Jim and Frenchie into the cabin, trying to look appropriately cowed.

“Right.” Frenchie’s polite smile did not reach his eyes, and Jim was glaring at him.

This did not bode well.

“We just have a few big things, really,” Frenchie started.

“And a lot of little things,” Jim said. “Like no shooting anyone, or pointing guns at anyone, including yourself, and -”

“Ed knows all that stuff already,” Stede interrupted mildly. “You don’t have to tell him the little ones, he knows.”

“The big ones, then,” Frenchie said impressively. “One: for the duration of your probationary period, you have to wear a sackcloth.”

“The ancient symbol of penance.” Ed nodded seriously. He could accept that with grace.

“And you can’t be sneaking up on people,” Jim added. “So you have to wear a bell.”

“Pete already found you a little kitty collar,” Stede said helpfully.

“No, yeah, I can do that,” Ed said. “Sackcloth. Bell. Got it.”

Here it comes, he thought nervously.

“And finally,” Frenchie said seriously, “you’re on potato-peeling duty. All week.”

Ed stared. “That’s…it?”

Jim shrugged. “I think some people also wanted a public apology? So that too, I guess.”

“No, I mean…” Ed shifted nervously from foot to foot. Maybe he was just being stupid, and they assumed he already knew the flogging was coming? “How many lashes do you want? Fifty? A hundred? Because if it’s more than that, I -”

“Ed,” Stede interrupted, and Ed realized that Jim and Frenchie were just looking at him blankly, and Stede looked absolutely horrified. “Good God, Ed, no one’s going to beat you.”

Ed looked at Jim and Frenchie for confirmation.

“No, yeah, absolutely not,” Frenchie said. “We’re not doing that.”

“Yeah, no,” Jim agreed. “I mean, I’m still pissed at you. Shitty captain. Shitty behavior.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ed mumbled, looking at the ground.

“But,” Jim shrugged, “like, listen, man, when you’re about to beat someone’s head in and they say finally like you did, you don’t feel good about that, y’know? I already beat you to death once. I don’t wanna kill you.”

“Yeah, mostly we kinda just want to make sure you’re not going to go all crazy on us again,” Frenchie added.

Stede was very quiet as Jim and Frenchie brought Ed the sackcloth onesie Wee John had prepared for him and a collar with a bell on it. Like, yeah, this was kind of embarrassing, but compared to what he’d been expecting? Fuck, he’d take the sackcloth any day.

“Here, let me.” Stede had given Ed privacy as he got changed, but he stepped up close to him to fasten the collar around his neck. Ed tilted his chin up, baring his throat to him without even hesitating.

The collar was tight but not horribly uncomfortable, and it made a merry little jingle every time he moved. Ed thought he’d keep it, even after his probation was over. For…reasons.

“Hey.” Ed frowned as Stede pulled back, concerned by the downward slant to his mouth. Ed was feeling positively jovial; Stede just looked upset. “What’s the matter?”

Stede shook his head minutely. “You agreed to come back,” he said softly, “even though you thought you were going to be hurt?”

“I mean, yeah.” Ed frowned. “Kinda deserve that, anyway -”

“You do not,” Stede said firmly. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. You’ve been through enough, for fuck’s sake. You deserve to feel safe.”

“I do,” Ed promised, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “I’m just surprised they don’t…you know, they don’t hate me.”

“They never hated you,” Stede promised, giving the bell a little flick with his finger. “Not at all, Ed. You broke their trust, but that’s it.”

Huh.

Trust was something that could be won back. Ed liked the idea of that.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

120 notes · View notes

saltpepperbeard · 8 months

Text

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TRAILER THOUGHTS AND RAMBLES POST™

Woo boy this is going to be a long one, and I mean, A LONG ONE LMAO. And, of course, all in good fun; i simply just Have To Scream and Incessantly Ramble. So, if you'd like to scream along with me, and read through an ESSAY OF THOUGHTS HERE SHDKJSDHS-

I just have to start things off with my babygirl. With the babygirlest of babygirls. LOOK at that pining. INSANE levels of pining. "When will my husband return from the war" levels of it, quite frankly PFFF. And with the hair back and the slut strands out too like???

I will say, it's very interesting to see him pining like this out in the open. I very much expected him to say locked away in his cabin most of the time, and stay entirely masked whenever he's out. But it seems like he makes STEPS towards healing rather early into the season, as the Kraken Getup seems to drop pretty quick. So, I'm very interested to know how that'll play into his dynamic with other characters (Fang, for example, seems to take notice, based on the comment he makes in the next screenie).

regardless, babygirl you're so strong and beautiful and i'm wrapping you in a blanket, kissing you on the forehead, and express shipping your man RIGHT into your arms. it'll get better, i promise.

but no really i'm going insane because like...just when edward teach couldn't get anymore beautiful, he really decides to pull up with a MESSY BUN???

HIIIIIII FANGY HI FRENCHIE HELLLOOOO MY SWEETHEARTS <3

I don't talk about Fang nearly as much as I should because I love him so much. I think getting a hug from him would Heal Me, actually. Like please hsdjkss he's so sweet- "I've never seen Blackbeard like this 🥺." CAN I GET HIM A PUPPY? I'M GETTING HIM A PUPPY.

Also please are they eating cake hsdksjks. ARE THEY EATING WEDDING CAKE. Imagine your raid is to crash a wedding, steal cake toppers, and then eat what's left of the wedding cake jskdhsdjkls. DREAM JOB???

AND THEN THIS. HOOOOO BOY. HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY.

when i tell y'all i am Foaming At The Mouth over this. Like, it obviously guts me to see Stede crying, but it makes me SO intrigued to know what made him come to the more stark realization, what made him flip from optimistic and bitchy to more somber and pained.

There SEEMS to be some sort of shift sometime around when he sees Ed's wanted poster, because there's that shot of him looking melancholic in the rain. But it doesn't quite seem as stark as THIS.

It makes me wonder if it's a gradual assembly of puzzle pieces, ie finding out about the marooning, then Lucius, then Ed's scourge across the Caribbean, etc etc. And it slooooowly dawns on him that his decision to leave in order to keep Ed happy ended up doing EXACTLY the opposite.

OR, I wonder if this is following the reunion—a PAINFUL one at that. Like, maybe he still was going into it a bit idyllic, and was holding onto the hope that it would still be alright...only for Ed to react poorly/in a way he never anticipated to see. He went into it maybe with a bit of anxiety, but ultimately leaned on the denial...only to have all the fears confirmed.

Or maybe it's a mixture of both. But either way, it's SO so interesting to see him have to SIT with it all. And even though it hurts to see HIM hurt, I'm actually very glad they addressed this and made him feel the heavier weight.

...Only to transition right into silliness here with this shot dHJKSDKLS. ed babe listen i get it. i Get It. i'm right there with you, babe.

BUT ALSO, makes me wonder what he was smoking in his pipe beforehand. Or maybe it was the transition from pipe to a straight BLUNT that got him shdjksd. Or MAYBE it was just ~*~the sapphic kush~*~ that took him out PFFFF. wlw on mlm violence idk.

SPEAKING of which...

here we go, lesbians. here we go, lesbians, come on. oH MY GOD, LESBIANS,,,

do you think anne and mary want me

BUT OKAY LMAO THESE TWO,,,

With that whole shot where it looks like Anne just kissed Stede, and the way they're both 👀👀 at Ed and Stede having their tense little interaction, I have to wonder if their gaydars go off and one or both subsequently decide to stir shit up PFFFF. Like, causing chaos by making Ed/Stede jealous type deal. And maybe Anne kissing Stede is what makes Ed choke on the blunt sdhkshdks WHO KNOWS.

Regardless, very excited to see the pairs interact. WHO KNOWS WHAT SORT OF MLM WLW SHENANIGANS WILL HAPPEN SDKJS.

And ALSO in relation to that scene, I just have to shdjksdhljksdkls over the editing because it took me out. Ed being like "And more importantly, no more Stede >:)" only to show his little wedding topper doll with Stede's subsequent "HULLOOO, IDWAD."

Killed me. KILLED ME DEAD. And also, a neat little way of editing call Ed out on his bullshit REAL FAST HSDJKSL. like, honey, you can try, but you know full and damn well that silly little guy has burrowed into the deepest chambers of your heart. he has your heart and you have his, WHOOPS.

Ricky, right? This is Ricky??

"WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY..."

So okay, a nose prosthesis is metal as hell, but that means we ALLLLLL know who he got tangled with PFFF. And I believe we see him in the Republic of Pirates talking to Stede and Co??? So I'm very VERY interested to see how that all devolves, and how he goes from vibing to wanting to throw hands.

Unless he was like, on some sort of reconnaissance mission for the British in the first place.

But I digress. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU HSDJKLSLKS

...The way I missed this SEVERAL times over, and didn't even see it until someone else pointed it out in another post.

IZZY WITH A HOOF PEGLEG. PRESUMABLY FROM THE UNICORN. BECAUSE WHERE ELSE WOULD THEY GET A WOODEN HOOF HSDKLJS.

But that also has me like 👁️👁️ for SO many different reasons. How did he lose a good portion of his leg? Was Stede the one to offer up the unicorn leg as a pegleg?

And TRULY, WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH HIM AND STEDE ANYWAY HSDKJLS LIKE I STILL CAN'T EVEN WRAP MY MIND FULLY AROUND THAT ONE,,,

My running theory is still that like...Izzy wanted a very specific version of Blackbeard. Izzy wanted someone who no longer exists, or maybe never existed to begin with. And so Izzy thought he was doing right by taking Stede out of the picture and nudging Ed back into a more viscous type of pirating...

Only for that to COMPLETELY backfire, and for Ed to get far more unstable. And like, something something Izzy was already complaining about Ed's "erratic moods" and "questionable decisions" BEFORE Stede came into the picture, so I doubt he's going to be content with Ed's turmoil and all the impulsivity that'll likely come with it.

So maybe, MAYBE, I'm thinking he'll have a bit of growth by realizing that Ed and Stede need each other, or maybe that Ed was way happier when things were smoother between him and Stede, at least. And knowing him and his characterization lol, it might not even be a selfless realization/decision. Maybe he'll only be doing it because he wants a less emotional version of Ed, and thinks that having Stede around and being cordial with him will allow that to happen.

And maybe it leads to even MORE growth when he gets roped into training Stede/the crew idk.

Regardless, REGARDLESS, they are one of the last pairs I ever expected to team up, because they were ACTIVELY bitching at each other all through last season HSDJKS.

HI AGAIN OLU MY SWEET LOVELY OLU MY SWEETHEART DARLING <3

BUT WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, SIR. WHAT'S THE TEA????

I'm not 100% certain, but it SEEMS like this is at Jackie's, or at least in the Republic of Pirates somewhere. And based on Ricky's injury, and also other little tidbits of footage, it SEEMS like something goes down there. Maybe some sort of scuffle between the Navy and our guys or something equivalent that snowballs into even ~*~Larger Problems~*~

SEE BECAUSE YEAH—EXPLOSIONS?? CANNON FIRE??? WHAT'RE Y'ALL DOIIINNNGGG LMAO.

And it's so wild because I definitely see Olu (with the CROCS OFC LMAO) and Pete, and then I THINK I see Lucius and Izzy in that mix too??? So like,,,

WHAT DID Y'ALL GET TANGLED IN SDHJKSKLS. AND WHERE IN THE SEASON WOULD THIS FALL??????

Oh this hurts lol. This one hurts. This one hurts a LOT. Stede Bonnet stop breaking my heart Challenge: impossible.

Because that's his home. That's his soul placed into a ship. That's the conglomeration of his hope, and heart, and adventure, and family,,,

And it's in RUINS.

LIKE, CAN THINGS STOP GOING BADLY FOR HIM ACTUALLY HSDKJS. CAN HE STOP GETTING DECKED BY HIS TRAUMA OVER AND OVER AND OVER. BECAUSE,,,

Fresh off the "you defile beautiful things/you're a monster/you're a failure/you ruin everything you touch" train, and he comes back to this. And if this is after he reunites with Ed and realizes things are bad, then man, that'll be even WORSE.

LIKE, NUMEROUS CHAMBERS OF HIS HEART HAVE BEEN SHREDDED. HIS HOME AND HEART ARE BROKEN.

mmMMmmmMMMMMM DAVID CAN WE MAYBE NOT <3 SHDJKLSKS

BUT, off we go cartwheeling from that footage to a VERY interesting bit of dialogue from Stede:

"The entire escape relies on this."

Escape?? ESCAPE???

Here I was thinking they enlisted they help of the Red Flag Fleet and/or Susan to try and catch up with the Revenge. So, ESCAPE???????

Did they get captured? Snatched up from the Republic of Pirates or something equivalent? Does someone have beef with Ed and holds Stede and Co hostage because they're trying to aid him?

OR, are they voluntarily on that ship to hide/lay low from the Navy or something, but their cover has been blown, and they have to quickly flee back onto the Revenge?

Very very inch resting whatever the case.

...

STEDE. FOOKIN. BONNET,,,

🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎

LIKE SIR, WHAT THE FUCK SHDSKD, Y'KNOW??? WITH THE STIDDIES OUT AND THE EARRING AND THE SCRUFF,,,

GOD LMAO. JESUS CHALUPA. CEASE.

like, you're telling me ed is going to see him like this and isn't going to IMMEDIATELY drop and start tying his hair into a ponytail? mmmMMKAY

BUT OKAY—ACTUALLY, that joke sort of brings me to a more angsty theory, because of course it does lol. I have to wonder if Stede is dressing like this because he legitimately wants to, OR, if it's because he feels like he has to.

Like, something something he's trying to do everything he can to win respect and establish himself and ALSO win back his man. And, something something he is ONCE AGAIN doing what HE thinks Ed wants, as opposed to what Ed might ACTUALLY want. Like, "Oh, he's a notorious pirate. He'll like me again if I have a little more gruff and backbone, right? That's what pirates like, right???"

LIKE NO YOU DOOFUS HSDSHDS HE LOVES YOU AS YOU ARE, JUST AS YOU LOVE HIM HOW HE IS. AND HE DREAMS OF DRESSING IN A DRESS WHEN MARRYING YOU. SO LIKE,,,

IF THAT IS INDEED THE CASE, I'M BEATING ED TO THE CHASE AND HEADBUTTING HIM MYSELF HSDKJLSDS.

*grumbling* even though it's a very VERY good look on him, so i hope it's more on his own volition.

I just want him to feel comfortable as HIMSELF, and feel like he doesn't have to perform/conform to anything. And I think there's something very deeply queer about him and Ed BOTH going through that. They're BOTH trying to figure themselves out and what they're comfortable with and who they want to be. And I hope that, IF this is his look, it's something that HE wants entirely.

((Which makes me raise my eyebrows a bit more because of the Cunty Red Jacket. Because he's CUNT. And also his curls are more pronounced when he wears that too. SooOOOoooOOO?????? VERY interested to see what he wants, and where he comfortably settles))

AND GODDDDDD ONTO YET ANOTHER VERY EYEBROW RAISING PART LMAO.

So, we've seen that shot of someone falling into the water like 80 million times at this point. And this trailer ALSO showed an additional shot of said person SINKING into the gloom. At least, I THINK it was the same person/connected. Again, could be a total misdirect lol.

And then we've seen all the blue-tinted shots of Ed off on his own somewhere, fight someone/something all the while being accompanied by some unknown figure.

And BECAUSE of the tinting/consistent lighting, and BECAUSE of the figure accompanying him, I have to also wonder like others similarly are...

Is this a DREAM???

Is this some sort of unconscious sequence where Ed works through trauma/hurt/demons? Is that person with him the ghost of Hornigold or another significant figure from his past? And does said sequence end with him jumping from the cliff and allowing the Kraken to disappear back to the gloom???

But something that makes that whole theory SUS is the shots we've gotten of someone, presumably Ed, coming up out of the ocean. And it's not tinted blue like all of these other shots are.

So it's just hsdjkhsdjksdhskjdhsjksfs??????

Regardless, REGARDLESS, I think all of this points to Ed going on some sort of journey, some sort of bout of self-discovery and self-acceptance. I think he's going to heal parts of himself, or at least SETTLE with parts of himself, no matter the circumstances. And that would be so good because I want that so badly for him. I want him to be able to do that for himself.

...AND SPEAKING OF HEALING SHDJKSKLS

BUNNY. BUNNET. SIR THAT'S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT STEDE BUNNET.

but omfg this is yet another case of my brain not being able to piece together timelines. because ed babe where ARE you. "BABYGIRL WHERE ARE YEEEWW..."

He looks so soft, and also has on a different ring??? An emerald/cyan looking ring??? AND THE KRAKEN RING THAT TAIKA ALWAYS WEARS HSDKJS.

So I just hsdjkhdjklsdhdjklshsjkls. "jodi you'e literally going to find out in like less than a month" I KNOW I KNOW OKAY BUT THAT DOESN'T PREVENT ME FROM GNAWING ON MY DESK FOR 18-ISH MORE DAYS HSDKJLS.

Also, as an aside, I SO very hope this leads to Fangy getting a puppy. I SO very hope that the "pets befouling the ship" clause is scratched from the rulebook PFFFF.

LOOK AT MY SWEETHEARTS HAVING FUN. LOOK AT JIM BEING UNHINGED SHDKJSS LOVE THAT FOR THEM. SERIOUS GOOSE IS BACK TO SILLY GOOSE!!! LOOK AT STEDE LOOKING LIKE A PROUD DAD. THIS IS THE SHIT I'M HERE FOR!!!

also hi hello is that archie. dO YOU THINK ARCHIE WANTS M-(GUNSHOTS)

i'll just be in the corner sobbing over being attracted to so many of these damn pirates. like, it's an Issue

...mmMMMMMM ONLY FOR ME TO TRANSITION RIGHT BACK INTO ANGST TERRITORY LMAO. BECAUSE STEDE, DARLING, WHAT IS THAT INJURY???

I've seen people theorize it's a stab wound, a bullet wound, or some sort of wound that was burned/cauterized. Either way, EITHER WAY, OUCH??? CAN MY DARLING PLEASE KNOW PEACE HSDJKSDKL

Also again, this all plays back into my theory that they're having a party, only to get crashed by some sort of navy personal or another pirate bounty hunter of some variety. And Stede gets captured/tortured.

*Banging pots and pans together* WHEEEEERE ARE WE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ARE WE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ARE WE HSDJKLSHDLKS

Same shirt, but has his EARRING. And is BATTLING A SHIT TON OF PEOPLE. So I would assume this comes AFTER the party fiasco, but also jsjshdjkshlJKHDKLS????

Also the CONCERN on his face is so striking. It makes me wonder if he's looking at Ed. ESPECIALLY because—

SAME BEACH, SAME BATTLE??? SEPARATED BY THE PARTY FIASCO AND ARE NOW FIGHTING TO GET TO ONE ANOTHER?????

But two things about this shot. Well, three, if you count me absolutely FOAMING at the mouth at getting to see Ed battle because hsdjhsjkhsdjkls bARK,,,

One, his sword is bloody. Love that for him. King shit. Slicing and dicing.

BUT TWO, AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, HE APPEARS TO BE HOLDING HIS RIGHT SIDE. NOT THE LEFT SIDE WHERE HE'S BEEN STABBED LIKE 12+ TIMES, BUT THE RIGHT.

HE GETS INJURED??? DO THEY BOTH GET INJURED?????? DAVID I KNOW WE HAVE LIKE 18+ DAYS LEFT BUT I'M DYING OVER HERE HSDJKSLDS

oh hi izzy lmao the way i did not expect the hardest line in the trailer to come from him.

"You don't know the first thing about piracy. It's not about glory, it's about belonging to something."

God. GOD. I really feel like he's going to end up surprising me so much this season lmao.

((BECAUSE NOT TO MENTION, THE FACT THAT HE'S TALKING TO RICKY, AND IT JUST SEEMS,,, 👀))

oh god y'all lmao. want to see how loud i can scream. because, i missed this my first few watches, and didn't even notice until it was later pointed out in people's posts, but,,,

LUCIUS!!! L U C I U S!!!!!! MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND LUCIUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BEARD, WOODEN FINGER, AND ALL.

MY DARLING. MY GUY. MY BESTIE!!!!!!!

Listen, I was like 99.9999999999999999% sure he was alive okay lol. Because NARRATIVELY, he had to be. NARRATIVELY, I think his death would have sent things into irreparable places. Also, silly little pirate rom/com; Y'ALL CAN'T KILL OFF ONE OF THE MOST BELOVED CHARACTERS LMAO LIKE NO WAY.

But regardless, I'm so happy to see him. I'm SO so happy to see him. AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HIM REUNITE WITH PETE, AS WELL AS SEE HIS REAL AWKWARD INTERACTIONS WITH ED, I'M SURE HSDJKS

Obligatory Wee John in drag mention/shoutout. Because come on now. COME ON NOW. HE'S FUCKING SERVING. ABSOLUTELY SLAYING. THAT BLUE LOOKS SO SO FUCKING GOOD ON HIM TOO. AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY FOR KRISTIAN AS WELL LIKE WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

Annnnnnd Obligatory Tealoranges mention/shoutout because goodness, look at them. LOOK at them. LOOK HOW SOFT JIM LOOKS. LOOK HOW SWEET THEY ARE. I'M EATING MY ARM!!!

*Baywatch Theme starts playing*

But okay okay what are we thinking:

Training montage/sequence? Or romantic moment?

STEDE'S ROCKY MOMENT LMAO, OR STEDE'S ROMANTIC HERO MOMENT. RUNNING TO GET GAINS, OR RUNNING TO GET HIS MAN.

OOOOOOO BITCH LMAO. OOOOOOOOOOOO BITCH. *RUBS HANDS TOGETHER*

and also snorting at ed's eyes because, just when i think they can't get any bigger,,, just when i think he can't possibly get even More Eyes than usual,,,

But okay hi hello WOWZERS this sequence. This one REALLY has my brain churning.

And I'm subsequently in the camp of thinking that this is very very soon after their reunion, if not their REUNION PROPER. I'm sort of leaning more towards the former, because something tells me they'd want to keep their reunion proper a secret/save it, since it'll likely be a very pivotal moment.

But regardless, SOMETHING SOMETHING SEASON 1 EP3 MIRROR? STEDE FINDS ED INJURED AND WATCHES OVER HIM???? I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW HYPE THAT WOULD MAKE MEEEEE HURT/COMFORT AND PARALLELS MY BELOVED!!!

Because Ed is DEFINITELY injured. Blood on the side of his head, various cuts and bruises across his face, etc etc. And Stede looks very Concerned when he calls his name. So I'm just 👀

Not to mention also, Ed seems VERY out of it. His eyes are wide/glazed-looking in all of the subsequent shots. And his first reaction is to headbutt Stede away shdkjshdkjs.

So again, the theory that it's right around their reunion seems very plausible, based upon reactions and outfits and the like. BUT WHO KNOWS.

also, for the record, still sobbing at how stede keeps his arm protectively draped over ed during these shots,,,

AND *RUBS HANDS OVER THIS ONE TOO*

,,,and maybe also *wipes tears away* because he just looks so SERENE. he looks so CALM. i have to wonder if this is after a pivotal moment in his healing, be it from his own realizations, an intimate conversation with stede, or both.

i just hope he's legitimately feeling better right here because i want that for him. i want that SO bad for him. I WANT THE WORLD FOR HIM!!!

Annnnnnnd ending it off with this shot because omfg. Three things.

One, JACKIE AND ED GIRLS NIGHT REAL,,,

Two, Ed trying something "different" has me sobbing and throwing up. He just wants to be comfortable. He just wants to be HIMSELF. He just wants to stop PERFORMING AND MASKING.

Three, THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO??? SWACKIE??? THE SWEDE LOOKING SO INCREDIBLY HOT??? THEY WERE NOT LYING WHEN THEY SAID EVERYONE WAS GOING TO BE HOT SHDJKSD

anyway, if you made it this far, then bless you and your resilience LMAO. but also if you made it this far, you're probably just as excited as i am. like, after this trailer, after seeing all of our darlings and seeing the silliness and seeing the interactions...

idk, i'm just feeling THAT much happier. i'm feeling THAT much more confident in our showrunners/cast/crew. and i cannot WAIT to continue feeling happy with all of y'all <3

18 DAYS AND COUNTING. CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HOW WRONG I AM LMAOOOO <333

202 notes · View notes

ilovehugslikealotalot · 9 months

Text

The New Arrival (Series)

(not my gif)

Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

What is that painting? The painting in the West Wing. What is it?

For context: Melina is around 50 and Fiona is 48, Y/n is in her 20s

FOR ALL OF MY ROMANIANS AND FRENCHIES PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I’m using Google Translate because I can only do so many Duolingo lessons a day 😭

┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐

The One in the Painting

└───── •✧✧• ─────┘

WARNING: 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE fluff, angst, smut

Part 3

✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿

It had been a few months now, since y/n had arrived at Dimitrescu Castle. Since then, Melina and Fiona have become mother figures for y/n. This led to her knowing about every detail that has happened in the castle.

There’s a portrait. On the West Wing of the Castle.

Many maiden’s knew of this portrait but never knew if it existed at all, no one was allowed in the room it was said to be in. “It’s a portrait of Lady Dimitrescu’s old lover!” The maiden’s would say, whilst doing chores in the kitchen.

Of course, due to y/n’s lack of…well…speaking.

Not many of the maiden’s hung around her for too long, except now. Y/n didn’t mind, but she also didn’t seem to know why. “What was the Lady like?”

“Was she as gorgeous as they say she is?” Some would swoon, “Is she charming?” “I bet she’s voluptuous like in the portrait!” They’d exclaim, dramatically leaning back with the back of their hand on their forehead. Y/n only smiled sheepishly, sweeping a little father away, away from the commotion all of them were making.

Melina and Fiona enter the kitchen. Suspiciously enough, they were unusually sweaty and Fiona panting slightly, trying to hide her tired body. Y/n walked over, helping Fiona stand. Melina hid a smirk and turned away to face the other maidens, “Let’s hurry up! It’s almost time for light’s out!”

“You… broken?” Y/n gently asked, Fiona’s eyes slightly widened, she hadn’t heard y/n ask a question before. “I- uh, no. I’m okay, I just tripped. I’m fine though, love.” Fiona smiled, tucking a piece of y/n’s hair behind her ear. “And for future reference, my dear. It’s hurt not broken” the older woman giggled, sitting down, “Okay, rest” the young maiden smiled, giving Fiona a hug.

Y/n, of course, continued her duties, efficiently scrubbing the counters. The other maiden’s giggled amongst each other, talking about earlier, still swooning over the lady of the castle.

Finally, after vigorous scrubbing, profuse washing, and gallons of cleaning products. The kitchen was restored into the pristine condition it was once in. One of the maidens entered, “lights out in 40! You all go get ready for bed”

Walking through the halls of the opulent Castle, y/n found herself observing the walls, inspecting the paintings, one of them seeming to stand out. The maiden had to agree she had been roaming mindlessly, hoping somehow she’d get to her room. But, maybe a little closer peek couldn’t hurt.

The painting was of a beautiful woman, her hair was a shade of ginger that could make an apple rot with envy. Her skin was as white as porcelain. Though her eyes…they looked like extravagant emeralds but they held a mischevious and delusional glint. She looked sweet but dangerous.

“Draga, it’s late.”

Y/n whipped around and smiled, “Oh, I’m sorry, My Lady. It seems as though I’ve lost track of time.”

Alcina chuckled, placing a bare, well manicured, hand on y/n’s chin, then leading her out of the room and down the hall. “No, worries, Draga Mea. Now, I must know, how did you get to the West Wing?”Y/n poor heart skipped a beat, Alcina’s face altered, hearing the change in her heartbeat. Alcina gave her a smal rub in the back. “It’s alright, you’re not in trouble. I know it was an accident, love”

The maiden swallowed hard, “I- ehm…well, I was curious and roamed the halls. It was an accident, my lady. Forgive me” Y/n sheepishly stood not daring to look up at Alcina, the Countess smirked, “All is forgiven, little thing. Now, off to your chambers. I wouldn’t want you tired for tomorrow. Especially, since the lords are coming.” Alcina smiled, walking Y/n down the stairs toward her chambers. Truly, Alcina was worried that the maiden had seen the portrait.

The portrait was…important to her.

It always has been, ever since it was painted. The woman in the painting, her name was Charlotte. Alcina’s first and only love, she had gone missing decades ago. Alcina vowed never to love another as she did Delilah, for it would tear her apart to see someone she loved the most in this cruel world to be taken from her.

The Countess dreamed of the day where she would see her beloved once again. But, that day was unlikely to come.

“My Lady, who was that? The One in the Portrait, I mean” Alcina snapped out of her own intrusive thoughts, looking down at Y/n and smiling. “An old…love of mine, Draga. No need to worry your little head about it, now. Hurry off to bed.” Alcina had tried to explain the matter without causing an outburst. Y/n nodded her head with a smile close her chamber door behind her. Alcina sighed, she never thought this would have to happen again. After decades, the same situation happens like a continuous loop.

✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿

tags: @marilynthornhilllover @willalovexx @willowshadenox @simpformelissa @pinklybleu @niceminipotato @tintedrose12 @koing-slvt @enchantressb @poorwritingandstalecoffee @winterfireblond @ssinfulprayers

special thanks: @marilynthornhilllover for everything honestly

So sorry for my crappy writing this chapter. 😭

#the GIF #UGH #ugh vampire mommy fr #alcina dimitriscu x reader #resident evil alcina #re8 village #re8 alcina #re8 lady dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re village #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #alcina demitriscu #alcina x reader #alcina x y/n #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu

211 notes · View notes

punkascas · 4 months

Text

okay, so i don't want to, like, Start Something or whatever so we're doing a barely-tagged, separate post. i also realise this is mostly pointless because others have already said what i'm going to say, and did it better, with far more grace, and sound less like an asshole than i do.

but jesus louise helen christ, the weird fucked up ideas people have around abuse and personal responsibility and the effect of trauma. like as an abuse and csa survivor, it genuinely alarms me to read posts that use arguments i remember my dad making. like, i'm assuming most of this rhetoric comes from gen z — maybe that's inaccurate; maybe that's unfair. but right now i'm very much Having A Moment Here that the kids aren't alright.

no 22-year-old should be repeating the same awful, manipulative, logically and morally bankrupt justifications for violence and torture my dad says. like literally what's in the first two episodes of ofmd s2 is torture.

i love ed; he's an amazing character. taika is hella wowza top marks acting him. but like.

like.

torture, my dude. physical and psychological. trauma. harassment. that we see the lasting effects of through s2.

just. i. what??

so here we go, okay. have too many, zealously highlighted screenshots so i can dig into details.

cut to save your dashes. content warning for discussions of abuse and trauma (if that wasn't obvious), as well as spoilers for ofmd s2.

re: ed knew what he was doing was wrong and felt guilty about it at the time:

we have no on-screen, textual examples of this. not in the dialogue; not in the acting; not in the blocking; not in the cinematography or music. nothing.

knowing the crew are overworked and kind of traumatised by all the violence, ed bribes them with cake. because, as we know, cake like tea fixes everything. only ed wasn't even with them to share in the eating of the cake. he made izzy responsible for that. he doesn't give the crew a break; he doesn't choose less ethically-fraught prizes to hunt. there is not one scene of ed talking directly to the crew — until he points a gun at each of them.

we see ed crying (and drinking, and rhino horn-ing [way to help further extinction, man]) but it's always paired with shots or flashbacks that reference stede. ed is still all up in his feelings about stede, and ed confirms this when he tells frenchie the myth about albatrosses never needing to return to land. ed cannot go back, does not want to go back, because he was rejected. (like, stede is literally landed gentry, come on!) all he wants to do instead is stay at sea committing to this unhinged version of unstable, sadistic piracy.

but okay, okay. say we ignore all of that. let's say ed does feel sorry and guilty and ashamed of his actions. he knows what he's doing is wrong and unfair and cruel. that it's harming others. that it's particularly harming the dude that ed has, for better or worse, basically spent his life with (izzy; i mean izzy). ed… still continues to do the things! how far off are we at this point from the definition of malicious? you know action x hurts person b and then you do it anyway. is that honestly a better, happier, more ethically defensible reading of the character?

re: the crew didn't mutiny because they love ed despite his violent, sadistic actions.

mutinies were a thing, yes. but both historically and in the world rules established by the show, mutiny is disincentivised through threats, distraction via extra work, and corporeal punishment. we see both ed and izzy use all three of these to try to prevent the crew from disobeying orders. they didn't wait until the storm and izzy shooting ed to mutiny because they understood or sympathised with ed; they took the chance to kill him then because that was the first real opportunity they'd had. the reward finally out-weighed the risk given that ed was going to kill them all that night anyway.

again, we have no scenes, no dialogue, no visual or audio cues to tell us that the crew understands or loves ed — excluding izzy, obviously. fang could also be on that list, if you take into account his personality and his behaviour both in s1 and later in s2 in the fishing boat scene. but in the first two episodes, we only see the crew show trauma responses around ed. they talk about him but almost never to him. and when they do have a direct conversation with ed, it is either confrontation or head down, submissive, "of course, blackbeard; anything you say" placating. i'm so baffled where the show points to any sign of love from the crew towards ed before his "death".

re: ed can't be held responsible because he was suicidal.

uhm. no. hard no. a harder no than stede's brazilian cherry wood mast. fucked up people do fucked up things but part of being an adult is owning your fucked-upped-ness and not fucking up others while you work on unfucking yourself. children, children are not fully responsible for the impact of their actions on others when they're deep in their feelings, especially if they're feeling their feelings as a trauma response. this is because literally their brain cannot do that kind of control. it doesn't have that software pack installed yet. ed does have all the adult updates installed, even if he isn't running them at that moment. he has no right to take out his feelings on other people: to maim them, to psychologically torture them, to abuse them, to work them to exhaustion. to kill them. he does not get a free pass to do suicide by abused employees. (like suicide by cop but more indirect and passive and harmful.) talk about passive aggressive.

secondly, ed is not just passively suicidal and happy to find new risks that might end his life. he is very purposefully taking izzy with him (see: literally removing the bits of izzy that would help let him walk away from ed; the fact that ed becomes actively suicidal only once he thinks izzy is dead; the whole keeping izzy's corpse in front of his and stede's beach shack i mean inn — the codependence, she runs deep). ed is also putting the crew through the same risks, the same isolation, the same danger. both stede and izzy agreed that ed had gone full scorched earth policy. you don't get forgiven for the murder part of a murder-suicide pact just because of the suicide part. not to mention that no one (once again, you could potentially argue izzy as an exception) was good on a murder-suicide pact with blackbeard.

and then to say the crew felt guilty? i assume i'm misreading that. the crew. felt guilty. for ed's actions. that is, if not victim blaming and if not darvo, a very close inbred cousin of them. like hapsburg jaw inbred close.

re: ed healing and his view of himself as a monster.

to heal means, in part, to accept responsibility for the harm you've caused, whether it was intentional or not. it means making amends. it means building or rebuilding relationships where possible. it means putting the other person or persons' feelings and boundaries and need for safety above your desire for absolution or forgiveness. it means working through your own guilt and shame and anger (or whatever drove you to act the way you did) in a separate space, not with the people you hurt, but someone who can be a step removed, more impersonal and objective to help you reflect and face hard truths as needed. i say this as both someone involved in activism and community reparations and as an abuse survivor who has done nearly 30 years of therapy learning this in order to not hurt people. it's not ed's fault he's fucked up just like it isn't my fault i am. but it is on me, like it is on anyone, to make sure i limited as much as possible the harm i can cause to others because i learned some awful but very effective tricks at a young age to survive.

ed does not really do any of the above. he doesn't say "sorry". he speaks in generalised language. he complains about the cat bell (which he seems to wear only for one day, given the implied timeline with lucius and pete's engagement). i have a model ship on a stand that says "this is a safe space ship" as a joke because i work for the government and have written press releases that sound just like ed's "apology". where you take no responsibility and encourage "the culture" to move on.

so, really, my question becomes: ed sees himself as a monster. in s1, we had enough balance between ed's current actions and his referenced past actions to see this belief as likely untrue. in s2 though — i mean, is it? is that an unfair or inaccurate belief? i can understand how carrying that belief can get in the way of ed's growth and eventual healing but like. from an outside perspective of ed-the-fictional-character. he's not a "good" person. he's capable of and has done and continued to do horrible, cruel things. ethically, can you argue with that statement about him?

re: ed trying to destroy relationships because of his self-worth issues and instead the consequences of his actions proving that he's loved.

this is the point that made me go: right, no, i need to respond. i need to say my piece about this. izzy and the crew suffering ed's violent tyranny and then sticking around on the revenge anyway afterwards is not a sign of love. it is not showing love to bear pain for someone. it not showing love to let someone mistreat you, threaten you, hurt you, maim you. their actions are selfish and done to give them feelings of power and control over you. lying back and thinking of england to get through it is not love. it is absolutely a survival technique. but it is not love when you do it at the expense of yourself or others.

i also disagree that ed was trying to push people away or break his relationships with others. we know from s1 that ed is fairly blasé about whether crew members die. again, we don't see any friendly or intimate exchanges between ed and any of the crew to imply any kind of relationship there beyond "tools who accomplish ed's goals". the one exception, as always, is izzy. and as previously stated, ed seems bound and determined, in a very conscious way, to bring izzy into death with him. ed does everything in his power to make izzy want to kill ed, or at least agree that it's best if ed dies, and to want to kill himself so ed doesn't have to die alone. that isn't ed breaking that relationship; it's making it permanent in a really fucked up shakespearian way. the only relationship we see ed waffle between wanting to keep and wanting to push away is stede. after his corporate "apology" and the fishing trip with fang, all of ed's dialogue is with stede and a little bit with zheng until izzy's death scene. the crew loving ed just isn't a thing, at least not one we're shown. not from either side. ed's relationships are with stede and kind of, sort of with izzy (because he does manage to, if not fully break, do some major damage to that).

love did not save ed. ed wanting to live, because stede came back, because he didn't want to jump off hornigold's cliff in the first place, saved ed. izzy saved everyone else.

so yeah: that's it; that's the post. the rhetoric that abuse is love or that abuse can be "cured" with love or that trauma isn't lasting and serious and has impacts on people's daily lives is just. wild. wild.

and terrifying.

my dad was born in the 40s. why is anyone born in the 80s or later still defending this mindset? it honestly, truly freaks me out.

guess it's good i have a fucking therapy appointment on monday.

#ofmd critical #ptsd problems

103 notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 7 months

Text

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

SEASON 2 CONTENT AHEAD!!!

Blackbeard rules the sea. Despite wanting his captain back, Izzy realises his mistake. Protecting the crew is his concern. Protecting you is his life mission. Stede's return brings hope, but there's a lot of work to be done before this crew becomes a family.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Spoilers. Amputation. Slight descriptions of NSFW content. Babygirl goes off the rails and tries to kill everyone.

Chapter Eleven - Indestructible little fucker

♡♡♡

You sit by his bedside. He's in agony. You hold his hand and dab at his sweaty forehead with a bit of old cloth. Not the most hygienic thing to do, but the only you can do.

Izzy is alive.

Blackbeard asked Frenchie to kill him, but not only did you tell him not to, he didn't want to kill him either. With Frenchie's help, and Jim and Archie too, you got Izzy below deck, hidden away in a small room. The entrance was blocked so it was isn't noticable.

That is where you were now. His leg cannot be saved and he's in horrible pain.

He's a total mess.

"Kill me, you fucking cowards!" He yells, not caring much for your comforting actions. All he can feel is the pain in his leg and in his heart.

"Shh." You try to get him to quiet down. If Blackbeard hears him you'll all be in deep shit.

"Lord above he smells somethin' terrible!" Frenchie says, coming into the room.

"Yeah, his leg's rotting!" Archie exclaims, almost cheerfully.

You run your fingers through Izzy's knotty and greasy hair. God, you just want to take away all his pain.

"It needs to be cut off," you say, not once looking away from Izzy. He looks at you, not reacting to your words at all.

"We just had him asleep. You're freakin' him out!" Jim hisses at Frenchie.

"Kill me--" Izzy goes to yell again but you quickly move your hand over his mouth. His words muffled by your palm.

"Alright. Listen, listen, listen. Start with his leg, see where it goes." Frenchie says. He makes his way out, unable to stand it down there any longer.

"I've done this before. Which one?" Jim asks, holding up two different weapons.

You keep your hand in Izzy's, looking at him.

"Definitely the fucked-up one. I think that one's all right," Archie said.

Both you and Jim look at Archie, deadpan expression.

"I'm not a fucking idiot. Which one?" Jim gestures to the weapons in their hand.

"Oh! Dealers choices."

Jim chooses one and then looks at you. "Ready?" They ask.

You nod and turn back to Izzy, holding his hand tight. This was not going to tickle, but you would do anything to save Izzy.

"Uno, dos-- tres." Jim starst to cut off Izzy's leg.

"He's a gusher! He's a gusher!" Archie says.

Jim gags. You have to keep your eyes on Izzy to avoid looking, but you can hear it. You think you're going to be sick.

Izzy yells in pain.

You lean forward and cradle his face in your hand, your thumb resting on his cheeks as he writhes in pain. He can't look at you, unable to focus, but you hope he can feel the warmth of your hand.

"I'm going to save you, Izzy," you whisper. "I'm going to save you."

♡♡♡

Fleeting looks across the ship. Shared in secret behind Blackbeard's back. A look of longing and affection, but also despair. Sadness that he cannot just reach out and pull you closer to him. Sadness that he cannot kiss your lips and caress you. His heart yearns to hold you, love you, care for you, but it cannot as long as Blackbeard keeps up this nonsense.

If Izzy so much as steps out of line, Blackbeard punishes him. If Blackbeard threatens the crew, Izzy takes the blame. He will take all of it just keep the crew safe, just to keep you safe. No harm will befall anyone other than Izzy of he can help it.

The stars were out. The night sky clear. Izzy was doing his rounds when he found you up on deck. Your head was tilted upward toward the sky. You looked stunning in the eye of the first mate. No one else was present so he stepped over to you with careful steps. He came to stand so close beside you, his hand reached to brush against yours. Your heart leaped out of your chest, but the smile on your face was everything to him.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked you.

"Wishing on stars."

He had to chuckle slightly at that. Sometimes you said the most carefree and strangest things. Ever since Stede Bonnet, he can agree that in some ways you both had softened up a little.

"What are you wishing for?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?" He asks, smiling softly at you.

"Because then it won't come true."

Izzy wished he had the guts to kiss you right there under the star filled sky, but he hesitated. The voice of Blackbeard rang clearly in his head, 'No messing about on my ship. Relationships are off limits.'

To watch you walk away that night hurt. He wished he had taken the risk. Just once more he wanted to feel your lips against his.

♡♡♡

It was gruesome as fuck. Blood stained the cot under Izzy. His wound wrapped up to the best it can be. Jim and Archie sat on the floor at the end of the bed, Izzy's leg in Jim's hand. You remained beside him, stroking your fingers through his hair.

Your mind was taken back to the night in his cabin where you confessed your feeling toward him. Though it ended horribly, it was still one of the best nights of your life. You'd give anything in the world to love Izzy like that again.

He was looking up at you through hazed eyes. His breathing was a little ragged, but nothing to be concerned over. He did just have his leg cut off.

You stroke your hand through his hair again. He closes his eyes slowly. You almost smile. He's relaxed by your touch. You want to just stay here and look after him. You want to take away every bad thing that's ever happened to him.

Your Izzy.

"We did it? He'll live?" Jim asked.

"50/50 I reckon." Archie replies.

You just gaze at Izzy. You know he'll live. He might not be okay, but he'll live. That's all you can ask for.

"He's very still right now," Archie points out.

"He's relaxed. At ease," you say.

"What's your interest in this guy anyway? He seems like a bit of a dick."

"He is," Jim says. "But he's our dick."

You smile softly. Yeah, that sounds about right.

"There was a time when life meant something on this ship. When we lived for each other. Not just to survive." Jim smiles at Archie. "Guess you never know when you're in the middle of the good old days."

You sigh softly. Yeah, that made sense. Jim was right. Your good old days were with this man right here in your arms. Those were the best days.

Late nights talking under the stars, fighting side by side, stealing coin to go spend on shore for a good time. Always with Izzy at your side.

Jim and Archie kiss. You see it in the corner of your eye. You smile softly to yourself. You'd love to share a kiss with your pirate too, but now isn't the time for that. He needs to rest.

"What was that for?" Jim asks.

"You have hope. It's cute," Archie says.

Again, you smile. Hope. You had almost lost all your hope, but when Izzy was near, you kept hold of it. He was your hope.

"Plus, I really like that story that you told about the wooden demon boy that thirsted for life. Or was it blood? No, I was cleaning up the blood--"

Jim kisses Archie again.

You don't get much time to let them enjoy their moment as heavy footsteps break the peace that has settled in the room.

The hairs stand on the back of your neck at the sound of Blackbeard's voice. The hand holding Izzy's tightens slightly.

Shit.

"What have we got here. Hm?"

"Hey, no one told me this room existed." Frenchie lies.

You gather that Frenchie must have been cornered by Blackbeard. Now he knew Izzy was alive.

You'd die for Izzy if you had to.

"Leave me, all of you." Blackbeard speaks calmly.

Frenchie goes back upstairs, Jim and Archie follow, though Blackbeard has to remind Jim to take the leg too.

You remain seated.

"And you," he says.

You glare at the man, jaw tense as you look at him with a tear filled gaze. You refused to them fall though.

"No."

Blackbeard says your name calmly, but it still sends shivers down your spine.

"He was your friend," you spit at him.

He doesn't look phased.

You turn to look down at Izzy. His head is rolled over to look at you. His eyes are open and you can see the expression in his eyes. You take a deep breath to prevent from crying and slowly let go of Izzy's hand. You shuffle past Blackbeard, who stands too close for comfort, and make your way up the stairs. You'd wait up there.

Izzy missed the warmth of your hand.

♡♡♡

It was after a raid when you retreated below deck to hide away for a while. The raids were constant. Daily. Blackbeard didn't stop. It was exhausting, but you kept on going. Each one worse than the last, and still the crew kept on going.

Sleep was a luxury these days. Every time you closed your eyes the raids replayed in your mind. The feel of your sword piercing through your victim was all too real even in your dreams.

You lay on your bed wide awake, eyes staring up at the ceiling. You could still faintly hear their screams, feel the blood staining your hands, the thumping of bodies hitting the deck. It doesn't seem to ever go away.

Your dark spiral of thoughts is broken by the sound of footsteps. You sit up, half expecting Blackbeard to be there, but you find yourself instantly relieved. Izzy is standing there, looking at you.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey," you whisper back.

Izzy comes a little closer. He looks tired, mentally and physically. You wished to take away that tiredness and let him relax for once in his life.

"Couldn't sleep?" You ask. He shakes his head. You pat the space beside you on your bed.

Izzy takes a moment, before joining you. He sits with just enough space between you both not to be touching. Though he wishes he could.

"Izzy?"

He looks over at you with a gentle gaze.

"Do you still love me?"

What a silly question.

"Yes."

You smile. That smile breaks his heart. He wants to scoop you up in his arms and hold you, kiss you, hug you tight. Discovery of affection for you gets him punished.

You look at him with such a soft expression and his heart beats quickly. His fingers twitch on his knee, eager to make contact with you in some form.

Fuck it.

Izzy wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close. His lips land on yours and you're left breathless as he kisses you. His arms feel like home to you, his kiss a saving grace in these dark times.

This is all either of you wanted. To be with each other. To love one another.

"What did I say about relationships?"

Fear fills your body. Neither of you had heard Blackbeard arrive, too caught up in each other. You had been caught. Of all times, it had to be now you were seen.

Blackbeard stands over his first mate, eyes set in a hard glare.

"Take off your boot, Izzy."

♡♡♡

"Have you come to take the other one?" Izzy asks, looking up at Blackbeard. He's full of hatred for this bastard, at least in this very moment.

"I think one's quite enough," Blackbeard says. "I just popped down to say a proper goodbye."

Blackbeard takes a pistol from his belt. He holds it up for Izzy to see.

"I had a dream about you last night." Blackbeard turned the gun in his hand and holds it out to Izzy. "Take it."

"Oh, fuck off."

Blackbeard tried to force him to take it.

"Fuck off. Fuck off!" Izzy shouts.

"Hold it! Hold it."

Izzy takes the gun.

"I dreamt that ya killed me." Blackbeard states. He prepares the pistol in Izzy's hand. "Shot me right through the skull."

Blackbeard moves so the barrel of the gun is aimed right at his forehead.

Izzy grins, his eyes full of spite. "Good for you."

"It was good for me," Blackbeard agrees. "It's just what the doctor ordered. Anyway, it wasn't even like that." He stands up and begins to walk away from the bed. "Not in my dream."

Izzy watches him go silently.

"I was standing." Blackbeard stands with his back facing Izzy. "Just like this." He stretches his arms open a little.

Izzy raises the gun to be in level with Blackbeard's head.

He starts laughing. A humourless laugh.

"Oh! You scared, Eddie?" Izzy asks, mocking him. "Too scared to do it yourself. Ay?" He laughs again. "Go on. Clean up your own fuckin' mess. I'm not doin' it. I've been doin' it all my fuckin' life."

That much is true.

"Fuck off."

"Farewell, old chum."

Blackbeard heads up the stairs. He leaves Izzy down in that horrible little room by himself. Alone with the pistol.

You see Blackbeard emerge from the room. You stand there, staring at him.

A gunshot goes off.

You cover your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming. If Edward is standing right in front of you, and Izzy was alone down in that room, that can only mean Blackbeard left him with a means to end his own misery.

The tears fall and you run toward Ed, but he grabs you and holds you back.

"Last go of me! Let go!" You try to fight him off, but Blackbeard was always stronger than you.

"He's gone."

Blackbeard doesn't let go as you cry out. You scream, you yell at him, you cry. He doesn't let go. He eventually guides you away from the little door and back toward the others.

Your heart had just lost everything it was living for.

♡♡♡

Izzy gazed at you with such a gentle look. You lay next to him, arm draped over his naked chest. The activity you had just shared was still fresh in his mind, replaying over and over. He had done it. He had shown you his love.

His hand gently reached out, his finger caressing your cheek so lightly. You were so... beautiful to him.

He loves you so much. Izzy isn't a man who shares his feelings easily. It doesn't come naturally to him, but he could no longer hide the burning passion he felt for you.

He thought the whole thing between Bonnet and Ed was foolish and a waste of time. But if they felt even a fraction of what he feels for you, then he was so wrong.

No one should be denied this feeling.

The way you felt against him, the warmth of tour skin against his, your thighs squeezing against his body. He wanted to do it all again. His name falling from your lips as you gave him everything he had to offer.

Izzy is a man in love.

That was a dream. Until it wasn't.

Blackbeard reared his head back at the worst time possible. Izzy paid the price for being the one to do it.

He learnt his lesson. Almost.

He wouldn't have changed that night for anything because he still got to spend it with you.

♡♡♡

"Yeah, sorry. I know you said you're expecting a lot from me, Captain." Frenchie is talking to Blackbeard. "But do you wanna do this here or down at the bottom of the ship 'cause I could just jump over and make it easier."

"Listen, if you weren't such a treacherous liar, I wouldn't have had closure with Izzy, so I thank you for that." Blackbeard rests his arm on the helm.

"Yeah, you're welcome. You're welcome." Frenchie is surprised.

"Take the day off, brother. Go live."

"Yeah? Sure you don't want me to any steerings?"

"Nah." Ed removes the tethers from the helm that were keeping it in place. "Do me good to be at the wheel for a bit. Clear my head."

Blackbeard turns the helm sharply around to the right. The ship jerks, knocking everyone unsteady. Frenchie has to hold on as he descends the stairs.

You had been looking out to sea blankly for the last half hour since getting up on deck. Ed just left you there with your thoughts while he spoke to Frenchie.

Fang had come over to ask what had happened. You couldn't find the strength to tell him, but that look in your eye had Fang shaking his head. "No," he repeated over and over. He began to cry too.

As the ship turned, you gripped the tailing harder, steadying yourself. You snap out of your sad thoughts to glance up at your captain. He was resting his head gently atop the helm, looking quite content.

Was he pretending your dead lover wasn't downstairs rotting away in that pit of a room? It made you sick.

You turn your gaze back to the sea. There's a storm ahead, and Ed is sailing right toward it. Fuck.

♡♡♡

"So, do we think he's better?" Fang asks.

"Fuck, no." Jim whispers.

"Well, I don't know about that. He seemed pretty calm to me," Frenchie says.

You look at him with a flat expression. "That's more scary than him lashing out in some cases."

"He said he just wanted to spend more time-" The ship jolts again and everyone goes crashing into the wall. "-with nature." Frenchie finishes his sentence.

"Nature? It's a fucking storm!" You hiss.

Everyone goes up on deck to find Blackbeard soaked through and having the time of his fucking life. The storm is harsh, rain pelting down and leaving not a single dry spot. You're pretty much instantly drenched as you stand there. It's dark and you can't see out to sea very well.

"Hey! Do you want some help, captain?" Frenchie asks.

"No, I'm good!"

"We're sailing into a storm, boss!" Fang says.

"It certainly looks that way, doesn't it, brother?" Ed yells, moving the cannon next to him. "It's a bad one, too. And some maniac got rid of the wheel."

You look up to see the helm gone. You stare at Ed with utter basement and disdain.

The ship rocks violently and everyone has to steady themselves.

"Well, that's the Caribbean for you, isn't it?" Blackbeard asks, enjoying this way too much. "Sunshine one minute, cataracts the next!"

"You'll fuckin' kill us, you fuckin' psycho!" Archie yells.

"Maybe, maybe not! The odds of surviving a storm like this are pretty low and if I fire one into the mast, the chance will go right down to zero!" Ed yells.

"You fucker!" You yell back.

"What do you want?" Jim asks him.

"What do I want? I want you to fight her to the death!" He gestures to Archie.

"Why?"

"That's a bit misogynistic, man."

The ship rock again, getting hit by a horrendous wave. You topple a little closer to where Blackbeard is standing.

"Yeah, probably. All love dies!" He yells. "I'm just hastening the process!"

You state at him in disbelief. "Is that why you... you had Izzy..."

He just looks at you with a grin, his eyes clouded with no sympathy. He wanted to kill off any love on this ship.

"Leave it, man, we're not gonna fight to the death." Jim says.

Archie throws a punch throwing Jim.

"That's more like it!" Ed cheers.

"In my experience, it's kind of how stuff goes, ya know." Archie tells Jim.

Jim and Archie fight.

"Come on! End her! Or I will end us all!" Edward shouts as Jim gets Archie on her back.

You watch the fight unfold, trying to make peace with the end of your life. You never imagined this would be how you go.

"It's okay. It's just life," Archie says to Jim.

"Come on! Do it!"

"Not on my life," Jim says. They help Archie up.

"Aww." Blackbeard is disappointed. "That's too bad!"

"You were gonna do it anyway!" You yell at him.

Blackbeard laughs.

"I was. I was."

He laughs in a manic manner.

Hatred surges through your veins. You push off the railing you were holding on for dear life and lungs at him. He continues to laugh as you grab his arm, making him look your in the eyes.

It was impossible to tell what were tears and what was rain on your face, but he knew you were crying. Your eyes were glossy and red.

The ship jolts again, this wave bigger than the last. Still you manage to hold onto Blackbeard, only slipping slightly.

He continues to laugh.

The crew try to stay on their feet. Someone gets knock overboard and Fang reaches out, but it's too late. The dark water has claimed them in it's hunger for destruction against the ship. Archie and Jim slide down the deck as the water carries them.

"You bastard!" You yell at Edward. "You fucking bastard!!"

He goes to light the cannon with the torch on his free hand. The torch is shot from his hand and he loses balance, you scatter backward, slipping on the deck from the sound of the gunshot. You're soaked from head to toe as you whip your head around the see where the shot came from.

All air leaves your lungs.

More tears mix into the rain on your face. You're gasping for breath.

Izzy stands with one hand clinging to the rope rigging, the other clutches the pistol Ed left him with. He's soaked through, his weight relying on his one leg. A nasty cut on his forehead from where he tried to shoot himself.

He is looking at you.

You can't form a single word. Your only thought is that he's alive. He's right there looking at you. You can't help smiling.

Fuck, you thought you had lost him.

Ed laughs when he sees him.

"You indestructible little fucker!"

That's your Izzy.

Fang lunges at Ed and pins him down. You find your strength and get up onto your feet. You don't hesitate to run toward Izzy. He watches you. You run right into his chest and wrap your arms around his torso. He drops the pistol so he can hold you, keeping you both steady with his other hand.

"You're alive," you whisper into chest. You can feel his heart beating in his chest. "You're alive."

Izzy closes his eyes and buries his nose into your hair, his lips pressing lightly against your temple. The feeling of having you in his arms is one of hope and relief.

He was never going leave you behind with Blackbeard. Never.

You help support Izzy over to where Ed lay on the deck. Fang comes over to help too. Jim, Archie, and Frenchie stare down at the man. He was in a losing battle if he chose to get up.

He didn't. He remained laying there.

Jim raises a cannon ball over their head.

"Finally," Ed laughs.

Jim drops the ball.

You look up at Izzy, hand pressed against his chest to help keep him upright. He looks at you.

The crew is free from Blackbeard.

You're both free from Blackbeard.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 - @the-chocoholic-writer - @bugbugboy - @callmemana - @the-shenny-of-azkaban - @cool-ontherun-world - @outer-space-beech - @ahewi24 - @grace585 -

#spirit of the sea #izzy hands x reader #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 #spoilers #dragon writes

111 notes · View notes