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leiawritesstories · 2 years

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: ROLFE STRIKES AGAIN

MASTERLIST

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: language, lots of naughty jokes, slight NSFW, possible small angst

Enjoy!

A/N: @heirofflowers I think your chapter endings have negatively influenced me...

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Aelin and Rowan met the Terrasen and the Doranelle at Perranth only a few days after their ships had arrived at the port, docking to much laughter, catcalls, and hooting from their respective crews. Aelin caught more than one wolf whistle, most likely directed at the way she leant into Rowan’s side, playing up the whole idea that he’d made her unable to walk.

Which, of course, he had.

But nobody needed to know the details.

“Lookin’ good, Cap!” Manon crowed, the Second Mate winking bawdily at Aelin as she swung herself over the Terrasen’s railing.

“Fuck off,” Aelin laughed, flipping the woman a crude gesture.

Manon just smirked. “Actually, Cap, that’s you.”

“Gods above,” Aelin groaned, chucking a loose coil of line at her fellow pirate. “Remind me why the hell I keep you around?”

“Entertainment,” Lysandra snickered, wiggling her brows aggressively.

Aelin snorted. “Babe, that’s why we have Aedion.” She flashed the surgeon a grin. “As you know.”

“Shut up!” Lys’s cheeks flared pink.

Aelin blew her a kiss. “Oh, I’m not making a joke, I want little nieces and nephews.”

“Fucking gods,” Aedion groaned, clamping his hands over his ears. “Really?!”

“Your own damn fault for choosing to hear it,” she returned, merciless. “OY!” she bellowed, pulling the attention of her scattered crew to her.

A chorus of “yeah, Cap?” echoed around the deck.

“Stock up and all that shit, and then go have fun!” she commanded, winking slyly. “Just be back in a week or so, yeah? I’ve heard there’s gonna be a convoy passing the Isles round about then.”

Raucous laughter and a smattering of crude jokes from her crew. “Aye, Cap!” Feet thundered against the wooden planks of the deck as the pirates swarmed off the ship, leaving behind a chosen handful to guard her, and headed into Perranth to restock the stores of the Terrasen and the Doranelle as well as the stores of lust running rampant among the pirates.

Too long at sea, apparently.

She sauntered down the gangplank once the throng of rowdy pirates had dispersed, thinking over what the best plan of action would be--go to the offices first and make sure shit hadn’t been stolen, or go to the first tavern she found for a good strong pint of Perranth ale?

As it turned out, option three was the winner. Option three involved the man who wound his muscled arms around her waist the moment her booted feet hit the cobbled streets of Perranth and pressed a teasing kiss to the back of her neck.

“Hullo, love,” Rowan purred into her ear, his low rumble making her nerve endings dance.

“Hullo, Captain,” she hummed right back, arching herself into him so the curve of her ass rocked up against the growing hardness in his pants.

He hissed softly, hands bracing against her hips and restricting her movement enough that she couldn’t continue to tease him. “Aelin.”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Rowan.”

“We’re in plain fucking sight,” he murmured.

She winked wickedly. “I think you mean fucking in plain sight, love.”

He inhaled sharply, the heat and hardness of him pressing up into her back. “And here I thought you weren’t an exhibitionist, Captain.”

Her smirk broadened. “Alleys are hardly exhibitions, buzzard.”

And that was how she found herself pressed against the rough brick exterior of the closest building, her head thrown back and her legs locked around Rowan’s waist as he pounded into her, his lips attached to her neck, alternating teasing, biting kisses with sinful whispers into her skin, rough and filthy and oh so, so glorious. “Fuck,” she groaned, “so good, so good!”

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he ground out, his breath hitching as his pace sped up even more, feeling both of them hurtling toward orgasm. “Fuck baby, I love you.”

“Love you more,” she moaned, her own hand snaking between her legs to join his fingers teasing her clit, the pressure all she needed to tumble into the throes of her orgasm, her whole body tensing and loosing with the force of her climax. Rowan groaned into her collarbone as he spilled into her, chest heaving as his body stilled, his heartbeat calming.

“So naughty,” he whispered into her sensitive skin as they both righted themselves, tucking clothing back where it belonged. “Who’d have dreamed the fearsome Captain Galathynius was so dirty?”

“Same people who knew the fearsome Captain Whitethorn was such a good boy,” she hummed, her eyes gleaming as she traced a finger along the edge of the knife strapped to her thigh.

He swallowed harshly, linking his hand with hers as she strode out of the alley and led him towards her office building. “Is that a promise, Captain?”

“You know what you like, love.”

It had taken some convincing, but Aelin and Rowan had eventually made it downstairs and out to the pub to meet their inner circles, who of course greeted the two captains with great whooping and whistling.

“Told you!” Fenrys crowed, smacking Rowan’s shoulder. “Told you to fu--”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” Rowan all but growled, punching the blonde, but not with any actual force behind the hit.

“All I was saying is, it worked,” Fen snickered, winking. “Need some restitution, Cap?”

“Shut the fuck up, Fen.”

Lorcan whacked Rowan on the back. “Boyo’s not wrong, Whitethorn. Y’need some food if you’re gonna keep us up all night with your moans.”

“Fuck off,” Rowan grouched, flagging down the bartender for a round of beers and some whiskey.

He’d need it to put up with his friends’ rowdiness.

Aelin squeezed his thigh as he plopped down next to her. “Don’t be too grumpy, Ro, it’s all in good fun.” She flashed him a tiny, lewd grin. “Besides, they know you can make me moan loud enough for them to hear.”

“Gods,” Rowan groaned, snatching a pint from the tray plunked down atop the table and taking a deep draft to hide his flush. “You’re bad, love.”

“So punish me,” she purred, throwing back a shot of whiskey.

Rowan nearly choked on his beer.

Elide pounded her fist on the table. “Get a fuckin’ room!”

“Already did, darling,” Aelin crooned.

“Fucking gods!” Aedion cried, “I’m right here!”

“We know,” Aelin grinned.

“You’re awful,” her cousin grumbled, draining his beer.

“You love it,” Lys snickered, slyly running her fingers up her husband’s thigh beneath the tabletop. Which rattled as his knee slammed into the underside of the old wooden table, the pints and glasses clinking.

“Someone’s quick off the mark,” Aelin snickered, sending the whole place into rowdy laughter and bawdy jokes as Aedion’s cheeks flared crimson.

“Shut up!” he squawked.

She saluted him with her pint. “Cheers, Aeds!”

Humming the last few bars of the last song the pirates had bellowed at the pub, Aelin leant into Rowan’s side as they made their way back to her offices. Rowan’s arm was warm and solid around her waist, his thumb tracing circles against her skin and only adding to her sleepiness.

He chuckled when she let out a jaw-cracking yawn. “Sleepy, Fireheart?”

“Hardly,” she mumbled, though she let out no protest when he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the building and up the stairs, depositing her gently on the end of her bed and helping her out of her clothes.

Though that may just have been an excuse to watch her undress.

She wasn’t complaining, though, not as he stripped out of his clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor as he tucked her under the covers and slipped in beside her, cocooning his body around hers. She certainly didn’t protest when he wrapped his arms around her--though by some coincidence, his hands ended up cupping her breasts--and kissed the top of her head as she drifted into sated sleep.

Nor did she miss his softly whispered I love you.

“Piss off,” Aelin grumbled, halfheartedly waving one hand in the general direction of whoever the fuck was trying to wake her up.

Rowan’s soft, rumbling chuckle brought her into some semblance of groggy consciousness. “Message for you, love.”

She groaned something filthy and extended her hand. “Gimme.”

“Such impatience, Captain” he teased, dropping a kiss against her palm before placing the message tube in her hand.

She mumbled something incoherent as she opened the tube and scanned the brief message. “Fucking hell.”

“What is it?”

“Summons. Again. Fuckin’ Rolfe, what the fuck does he want now?”

Rowan sighed. “I don’t fuckin’ know, maybe he’s gonna do what he should’ve done years ago and blow up the whole Navy?”

“You wish,” Aelin snorted, swinging herself out of bed. “Shit, we just got here!”

“So let’s wait an extra day,” he offered, catching her wrist. “We can make up the time at sea, yeah?”

She sighed, dropping back onto the edge of the bed to lean into his warmth as he fitted himself against her back. “What if it’s important, Ro?”

He curled a lock of her loose hair around his finger. “Is Rolfe known for calling urgent gatherings, Ae?”

“No,” Aelin admitted, “but still. I…” She trailed off. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“Captain.” Rowan encouraged, tilting her head back so he could meet her uncertain gaze. “Nothing you worry about is stupid, my love.”

She exhaled shakily, her fingers tapping randomly against his thigh. “I--after Maeve, I worry.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, attempting to gulp down her sudden, inexplicable nerves. “I worry that somehow, in some way, her Royal Fucking Henchmen are still out there hunting us down, and I can’t help but need to call departure right away.” She flicked her eyes back up to his, allowing him to see the vulnerability in her gaze.

“I understand,” he murmured, carefully rotating her into his embrace, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “I understand, Fireheart.”

She exhaled thickly, one hand sliding into his loose, messy hair. “I hate feeling like this, I just feel so…weak.”

“Hey.” He lifted her chin with his fingertips. “You are everything but weak, Aelin.”

Something impossibly soft flitted across her face. “You’re an old romantic, Whitethorn.”

“An old romantic who loves you,” he purred, far too smoothly for his own good.

It brought a grin to her face. “Such a flirt, Captain.”

“Only for you, Captain.” Rowan kissed her softly, sweetly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, buzzard.” She smiled against his lips, slyly rocking in his lap. “There’s still a few hours before I need to round up the crew…”

In answer, he rolled them over, pressing her into the mattress. “That we do, love. That we do.”

“Fucking Rolfe,” Elide griped, still buckling her sword belt around her waist as she strode up the gangplank, barking at the nearest pirate to hurry the fuck up, dammit!

Aelin raised her brows. “A little frustrated, aren’t we, Ells?”

“Fuck off, Cap,” the First Mate grumbled, flipping her an obscene single-finger gesture. “I’m sure Rolfe’s little fuckin’ note tore you out of bed, too.”

“Fair enough,” Aelin acquiesced. “You gonna want the Orynth at all?”

Elide flashed her a wry grin. “Not if you and Whitethorn are there.”

“Godsdammit, Ells! I’m staying on the Terrasen, okay?”

“Mhmm, you keep telling yourself that,” the brunette smirked, disappearing belowdecks to yell at anyone unfortunate enough to be in her path.

“Fuckin’ move!” Aelin commanded, enough of a lilt to her voice to indicate she wasn’t cranky. “We’ve gotta keep His Bloody Majesty from shittin’ himself, yeah?”

Ripples of coarse laughter and “the hell we do, Cap!” echoed across the deck.

“Hoist anchor!” she yelled once the gangplank was in. “Fall behind, yer left behind!”

And the Terrasen, Doranelle, and Orynth sailed reluctantly out of Perranth Harbor, their joyous and no doubt rowdy liberty cut short once again by whatever the fuck Rolfe wanted.

Two days out of the Iron Isles, Aelin caught the distinctive, thick tang of an impending storm heavy in the air, sensing the wind pattern shift just enough to indicate mother nature’s intention.

“Keep a weather eye out!” she called. “Looks like we’re in for a bit of a blow!”

“Honey, you’re in for a lot of a blow,” Lys snickered, elbowing her in the ribs.

Aelin wheezed, doubling over in her fit of laughter. “Fucking hell, Lys!” She wiped her eyes and shot her best friend a wink. “Not as much as you are, though.”

“Hmm, true.” Lys smirked right back at her. “Storms got nothin’ on the sounds Aed--”

“Fuck, no!” Aelin shrieked. “Gods above, Lys, he’s practically my brother!”

The surgeon cackled wildly. “Hey, you make those jokes all the time, darling.”

“Oh, fine, I do,” Aelin conceded. “But you two make enough noise, you’d scare off the goddamn fish if there were any.”

Lys beamed. “And I’m right proud of it, Cap!”

“Good gods,” Aelin grumbled. “I--”

The Doranelle’s shrieking whistle ripped her attention away from Lysandra. Three long blasts, which could only ever mean one thing.

“ROYAL FUCKIN’ NAVY!” Rowan bellowed, already signaling his ship outward into battle position. “Roll out the fucking cannon!”

“ARMS!” Aelin hollered, waving her left arm in a great big circle. “MOVE IT, you horrible blackhearted pirate scum!”

Both large ships and the Orynth exploded into action, a handful of Aelin’s crew leaping down to the deck of the smaller ship to reset sail and pull out the twelve cannon, preparing to meet whichever dumbasses of the Royal Navy decided it was a good idea to try and engage. There were four or five of them, just a single patrol unit, probably having caught one of Rolfe’s birds and decided to hunker down and wait for the first pirate to come tearing towards the Keep.

Too bad they’d stupidly chosen to attack the Terrasen and the Doranelle.

Across the waves, Aelin made out bits of the Royal Navy captains yelling at each other in their frantic battle preparations, snickering at the scraps of conversation she picked up.

It’s fuckin’ Ash Galathynius, Smithers! Wot?! That there’s the fuckin’ Terrasen, see the flag? Fuck me, Roberts, you’re right! Won’t that bring us a proper admiralty, then?

“OY!” Aelin bellowed through a speaking trumpet, intending to have a little fun with the Navy men.

The tiny figures’ heads jerked up, obviously not having expected to hear a voice bellowing at them. Especially not a woman’s voice.

“WHO THE FUCK WANTS TO DIE?” she hollered, grinning like a madwoman.

From the way the minuscule navy men scrambled even faster around their ships’ decks, she took the answer to be “nobody.”

“CAPTAIN!” Aedion’s yell broke through her rapid scheming. “Gods fucking dammit, Aelin, are you listening?”

“When am I ever?” she retorted, whirling around to find her cousin striding towards her with a dark, grim scowl on his face.

“True enough,” he snorted.

“What is it?”

“They’ve got a shallop.”

“Hmm.” Aelin tapped her chin. The one-gun shallops were valuable enough to the Navy, their single thirty-two-pound gun providing deadly might. But they weren’t easy to maneuver, and they could only fire as quickly as their gun crews could reload. “Guess we’ll just have to take her out first, hmm?”

“Aye,” her cousin nodded, his grin a vicious flash of teeth.

“Thanks, Aeds.” She clasped his hand. “No mercy, cousin.”

“Never, Cap.” He tapped his fist to his heart in salute as he turned and loped off, yelling at his gun crew to move their sorry asses, dammit!

Aelin smirked as she watched her crew rush into battle stations, every pirate aboard thirsting for blood. “TERRASEN!” A roar of greedy acknowledgement from her crew. She let her full, wicked grin unfurl across her face. “Bring it down, people.”

And as if on cue, the threatening iron-gray skies split open, and down poured the rain.

~~~

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#my writing #fly the black flag #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #pirate au #rowaelin smut #elide lochan #aedion ashryver #lysandra ennar #it is 2 am? yes #am i just gonna drop this and run?#also yes #enjoyyyyyy #i need sleep good lord

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stevie-petey · 2 months

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oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

Steve has never had the best timing.

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died.

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face.

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over.

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped.

Well fuck.

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit.

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not.

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side.

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again.

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out.

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open.

Steve’s plan was foolproof.

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend.

However, Steve really should’ve known better.

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door.

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him.

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life.

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place.

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in.

Then, late January, your birthday came along.

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake.

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly.

Except that isn’t what happened.

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in.

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face.

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him.

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck.

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something.

He’s miserable.

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks.

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts.

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind.

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear.

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him.

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along.

God, he is so stupidly in love with you.

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist.

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Then, a thought occurs to Steve.

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss.

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time.

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #valentines day #enjoyyyyyy <3 #mans just wants a gf #bless him

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