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yours, always

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As soon as they were underway to hunt the Urca, Anne shut Jack in the Captain's cabin, crossed her arms and looked at him hard.

"You nearly got yourself killed, Jack," she hissed.

"And you saved my life," he replied quietly.

He made no move towards her, watching her cautiously like he was checking to see how angry she was with him. They both knew this wasn't about him being in danger but him choosing the opinions of the damn crew over their partnership. Had the nerve to choose Max over her. Had the nerve, when not long before he had been upset at the thought of her doing the same to him.

She'd thought all that time he'd been away would cool her anger, but as it turned out, she'd just been burying it deep down. And beneath that was just plain hurt, and it made her feel lost. All she wanted do was do what they'd always done: sail together, like how they'd started. Fuck what anyone else thought.

To think this all happened just 'cause she had a cunt.

"Anne," Jack started. "Please allow me the chance to apologize. I should never have done what I did--"

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," she snarled. "I'm as good as ten men on this fucking crew. You know it. They fucking know it." She took a step closer, leaning in, looking up, watching him catch his breath, for all the world acting like he thought she was about to stab him with her knife. She knew it hadn't been easy for him to apologize like that. Must mean he had been really scared, just like she’d been when they were apart for so long, scared enough to put away his pride.

It made her feel strangely fond for him despite being pissed off.

She looked him up and down, noticing the blood on his sleeves--none of it his. "But that ain't what I want to hear right now. Right now, I want to fuck."

Jack let out a shuddering breath. Anne knew she had made him aroused with her words. It was a convenient thing about Jack--he got excited just by the thought of her wanting him.

"Alright," he whispered, acquiescing so easily.

"Get on the bed," she ordered, breathing a little harder. "Clothes off, ‘cept your trousers."

She watched as Jack took off his coat and boots, hands shaking slightly as he untied the cravat from around his neck. He pulled his shirt over his head and then lay back on the bed, every part of his long lanky body tense and tuned to her needs.

Anne approached him, undressing, fumbling with her clothes as she rushed. He watched her, holding his breath, as she finally pulled off her trousers. She climbed on top of him, her shirt riding up over her thighs as she settled on his chest. She gripped his wrists and pushed down hard. If he wasn't hard already he would be now. He moaned a little, and writhed beneath her.

"You don't come till I say," she whispered. She looked him over once, quick, wrinkling her nose, feeling her pulse start to race. "Gonna do what I want with you."

"Yes. Anything," Jack breathed.

Yeah, that would help her feel better, too--him doing anything to please.

Anne straddled his face and sank down against him, pinning his hands again, felt him open his mouth for her, the scratch of his sideburns rubbing against the inside of her thighs. She squeezed his wrists as he began to use his tongue just how she liked.

Jack groaned as she ground down against him. Anne knew she was making it harder for him, but the rush she got from having him pinned down like this made it worth it, and made shivers of pleasure surge through her even as his mouth worked with difficulty. His eyes were closed, and she knew he was enjoying this too. There was a look of devotion on his face, in his closed eyes and furrowed brows. Anne tilted her head back. She rocked slowly against him, fucking his face, and she knew he could barely breathe now, but he wasn't complaining either. If anything it made him redouble his efforts. Anne squeezed his wrists harder. His tongue brought her to the edge of indescribable pleasure, gentle and constant, until her knuckles went white. His wrists would be bruised from that.

She came and sank down against his mouth, tangling her fingers in his hair. The wave of bliss dulled the sharpness of how she was feeling a bit. Same with the way Jack had given himself up so easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world, way it should be.

As she rose up, he kissed the inside of her thigh tenderly. Always tender, when she was rough.

Anne settled back on Jack's chest and took her belt from the bedside table, watched as he panted, catching his breath, and left his hands lying against the bed so he was ready for her. Good of him to always remember she liked him tied down. Jack chewed on his lip, not even pretending to protest as she lifted his wrists close to the headboard. He did protest sometimes, in a joking sort of way, but they both knew he liked being tied down as much as she liked doing the tying. Anne wrapped the belt around his wrists and tied it tight. He hissed.

"That hurt?" Anne murmured, cautious.

Jack pulled at the bonds and groaned. "It should, shouldn't it? I hurt you."

Anne's lips parted a little as she looked down at him and then she bared her teeth in a sneer. "You think you deserve to be punished for the shit you did?"

Jack must be awfully hard now, his trousers uncomfortably tight. Least that was the idea. He paused, then said quietly, "Yes, if that's what you want. You've every reason to be angry with me."

Anne looked at him for a moment, noticed how his breath was starting to catch as his eyes searched her face. He parted his lips as her fingers lifted up to his chin.

"If I was real angry I wouldn't wanna fuck," Anne murmured.

Jack’s eyes narrowed, creasing at the corners. He looked at her for a moment with tenderness and understanding--understanding that though she was pissed off, there was more to how she was feeling than just that.

Anne brushed his lower lip softly, then slid her fingers into his mouth, gagging him, pushing against his tongue. Jack moaned and closed his lips around her fingers. Usually she'd be doing this as she rode him, but she wanted to fuck him this time. He sucked on her fingers hungrily and she thrust them a little harder into his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut, a sheen of sweat forming across his brow. She slowed down and Jack leaned in to take her fingers deeper.

Finally, when he was moaning just how she liked, she pulled her fingers out and let him catch his breath.

"Darling, please," he hissed.

"You can't beg me yet, Jack." She curled her lip at him in displeasure. "I'll tell you when you're allowed."

She watched him bite his lip and wince. She could tell he wanted to beg her, to plead with her desperately, but he remained silent, obedient.
Her Jack was usually so obedient, till he wasn't, and then he fucked up and hurt her like had this time. What a pair they made, almost unable to function without the other, so used to being two halves of a whole that the idea of no longer being partners hurt worse than almost anything. But it ached less now, back on his ship where she belonged. She'd remind him of his place as well--seemed he needed the reminder.

She hadn’t told Jack yet what she planned to do with him--he might think she was going to ride him or use him to get off a few more times before he came, instead of what she had in mind.

She climbed off him and opened the drawer where she kept her wooden cock and oil, then settled between his legs. Jack watched her breathlessly, realization dawning on his face as she slicked the smooth wood, coating it until it gleamed. She had always liked it this way, and he liked being told what to do, or what was to be done to him. It worked out well for both of them.

Jack liked it when she used him, was the thing. When they'd started, she hadn't always liked to deal with a cock. She knew she didn't have to explain it, and Jack had never expected her to, just made it clear he was more than happy to get off on his own hands with his mouth between her legs, or tied down under her, unable to touch himself.

Anne slowly undid his trousers without touching his cock. The fabric was wet where it had pressed against him. Jack groaned.

"Yes, I need--"

"Fuck, Jack, you're not allowed to beg," Anne repeated. "If you do it again, I'll leave you tied up and you'll be someone else's problem." She pulled his trousers all the way off and settled her hands on his thighs. "And that ain't what you want, is it?"

Jack closed his eyes with the smallest shake of the head, face screwed up with anticipation and longing. He swallowed hard.

She parted his thighs a little more, then pressed her fingers inside him, and Jack took it with a groan. He pushed back against her, moaning so prettily as she withdrew and then thrust inside him again.

With him fucking himself on her fingers, it was about the right time to make her point. Anne leaned close and watched a shiver run over Jack's body--felt the same thrill run through her at the sight. "I'm going to fuck you like a man would, to remind you not to treat me like a woman expendable to this crew. D'you understand?"

Jack whimpered.

“You'll be thinking about it all day tomorrow as a reminder, and then tomorrow night I'm going to do this to you again. You want that?" She pulled her fingers out and took the wooden cock in her hand.

Jack took a deep, uneven breath. "You know you can do as you please with me."

Anne slapped him across the face, almost gently, but hard enough to make him moan. It was ridiculous that it got him to make a noise like that. Anne found she liked the way he looked when it was done. She held his cheek in her hand. "Asked if you wanted it, Jack."

He opened his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. "Yes. God."

"Say it clear."

Jack obeyed instantly, his eyes still squeezed shut as he breathed harder. "I want you to fuck me." No snark, not even a "if you would be so kind" or "whenever you can get around to it, darling."

A smile ghosted over Anne’s lips. "Turn over." She motioned quick with her head.

Jack rolled over onto his stomach and arched his back as she stroked her hand down to his ass. She squeezed, explored with her fingers, watching the play of lean muscle from his shoulders to his straining thighs. She lifted his hips off the mattress, stopping him from grinding his cock against the sheets.

Jack gasped as she pressed the wooden cock inside him and then pushed against the base with her thumb. He lay there, his chest heaving, unable to push back against anything, arching a little against the pressure inside him, biting his tongue, making helpless little distressed noises like it felt so good but wasn't nearly enough.

Anne held him there for a while, still but for the slight tremors running through his body. He could stand to wait if she wanted him to, and she liked it when he was on the edge before she fucked him. Jack breathed out a small moan, so quiet she almost didn't hear it, and simply lay there at her mercy.

It was nice, having him give everything up. Anne's mouth twitched with fondness as she traced his spine with her eyes. Satisfied, she bent over him. "You can beg."

He moaned in relief. "Please, darling," he breathed, "I need--please, God, I...I..."

What a difference between Captain Rackham, assertive and confident, and this Jack only she knew, better than anyone, who let her do whatever she bloody well pleased with him. See him on his knees. Fuck him how she liked. The two of them were supposed to be thick as thieves that way.

Anne traced her fingers down the back of his neck, and hissed, "You need me."

His words came out in a rush. "Yes. I need you. Yes. Oh, Anne."

"Don't forget that," Anne whispered. "Ain't nobody else who can give you what you need." She pressed against the base of the wood where it fit so perfectly inside him, and lowered her voice in his ear. "Tell me you're mine."

Jack groaned and let his head fall forward against his arms. "I belong to you, darling," he whispered, "I swear I'll act like it from now on. Yours, always."

"Good boy, Jack," Anne murmured, breathing out a sigh, stroking the back of his neck. He responded eagerly to the touch, and to the praise, curving his neck to the side into her hand.

He inhaled as she withdrew the wooden cock. After tying up her shirt, she strapped it to her hips, guided it until it was level with him and then moved her hips forward nice and slow, feeling him accept her. It thrilled her to see him like this, pinned beneath her, feeling how willingly he took it all. It made her wet again, him wanting it and letting her give it.

She pushed one hand against his lower back, making him arch harder as she began fucking him down against the bed.

"More, come on. I want your back to be sore tomorrow," she murmured, quiet in his ear. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you? So you can’t fucking think about anything else all day?”

Jack groaned as she picked up the pace. “Yes, I would… God ...Please, darling, let me touch myself," he begged, his voice breaking a little bit.

"Show me how good you can be and I'll think about it."

Jack gripped the bedframe and gasped, pushing back eagerly against the thrust of her hips.

"Harder," Jack breathed, "you know what I like."

Anne tilted her head as she looked at him bent beneath her. She smiled. "Yeah, I do, don't I."

As she pushed her hips into him more forcefully, Jack breathed, “Oh, thank you.”

He began to curse, desperately, helplessly--arching his back, trying to find relief by pressing his hips as close to the sheets as Anne would allow. Each time he got too close, she lifted him back up tight against her. He didn’t even beg--must know it would do him no good, and that he was supposed to suffer a bit if she wanted him to. Anne spread his legs a little wider. Jack moaned and whimpered and waited until she decided he’d had enough.

She could make him come without letting anything touch his cock, but she wasn't trying to be mean, just make a point, make sure he understood. Jack let out a shuddering breath as she pulled almost all the way out, then sank back down. He was making short gasps now. Right when she thought he couldn't take it any longer, Anne held him by the back of the neck and thrust his hips down so his cock rubbed against the sheets. Jack inhaled sharply and relaxed beneath her.

"Darling..." he gasped. "Anne.. ." It was quiet, close to a sigh. It was almost as nice to hear him begging as it was to feel him submit like that. Anne swallowed hard. It was intoxicating to have him completely under her power. She rubbed her thighs together, feeling the wetness between them, and the way Jack responded to the slightest movement of her hips as she held him by the sides of his ass.

Jack always said her name so tenderly even when they were doing something like this. It sounded nice to her all breathless and soft.

"You can come. Are you close?"

He moaned brokenly in response. Anne tightened her grip as she rocked her hips slow and deep into him, timed her words just right: "Ain't so important which of us has a cock anymore, is it." He gave no response besides a low moan. "Is it, Jack?"

"No, no," Jack mumbled, clenching his hands. He cried out as he came, his body going limp with exhaustion beneath her. He twitched as she shifted behind him, still buried to as deep as she would go.

Anne placed a hand on his lower back, withdrew slowly and undid the straps around her hips. Jack moaned quietly, pulling on his bonds, his wrists red from abrasion.

Anne untied him and massaged his wrists and shoulders with her hands, slow and gentle. Jack relaxed under her touch. He turned onto his side, wincing, as her fingers rubbed his wrists again.

“Did I teach you a lesson?" Anne murmured.

"Perhaps that you're too good to me," Jack whispered.

Anne brushed her thumb over his lips. "You think I've punished you enough?"

Jack, worshipful as ever, closed his eyes and kissed her palm. He said quietly, "That's for you to decide, isn't it?" He paused, glancing at her. "Are you going to sleep here with me?" he asked quietly, with a little apprehension.

"Yeah." She couldn't leave him when he looked this this, so utterly destroyed by her doing, so desperate to be redeemed.

She saw him relax. He embraced her tenderly, slowly, stroking a hand over her hair, his voice catching a little in his throat. "I missed you, darling."

"Be good and you won't have to miss me like that again."

He simply nodded and stroked her hair.

"But I ain't done with you yet," Anne murmured, breathing a little harder. "Want your mouth, Jack. Fucking you made me wet."

He let out a small "ah," gave her a tender smile, and sank down between her legs. He started by kissing her thighs, and Anne allowed him to take his time. She would be fine if he skipped all that, but she knew this was his way of apologizing--though she was sure a conversation would come later. For now he used his clever mouth for other things, and conveyed his meaning just as clearly without uttering a single word.



When he was finished with his duties the next day, Jack came into the cabin and glanced at the bed, where Anne was slouched, her bare legs extended in front of her. He swallowed and begin undressing, putting his coat and weapons away, all the while remaining silent.

At last he motioned his head at her. "You know, I could barely focus on anything all day. That should please you, I think.” He walked to the bed and sat down stiffly, rubbing his lower back. "Overheard one of the fucking crew saying how you gave it to me good last night. Didn't think I overheard but I did."

Anne gave a quiet snort. “Don’t act like you’re all pissed off. You always liked your name in everyone’s mouth.”

Jack suppressed a smile. “Yes, well.” He shook his head. He wondered if she’d heard the rest of what they said, jokingly, for those most part, that Bonny was the one whose cock got wet and Rackham was her bitch.

He wondered if Anne would like that.

He pulled off his boots and then his trousers. Anne sat up, looking at the faint bruises on his hips where she had held them last night. Jack swallowed hard and breathe a little faster.

"Gonna go easy on you, Jack."

"Oh?" he asked, maybe a little disappointed. "Then what was the point of all this? Making it so I can't walk right and my back aches? Thought that was what you wanted."

Anne gave a half-shrug. "Already done that. Gonna be gentle with you tonight. Still remind you what's what though." She lay back down and pulled her shirt up, revealing the harness on her hips and the wooden cock, all ready for him. "C'mere," she muttered, after a beat, raising her eyebrows at him as she rubbed the smooth wood with oil.

Jack huffed a breath in disbelief as his eyes followed the movement of her hands, pretending--not very skillfully--like he wasn't getting aroused at the sight. "You want me to...fuck myself. You've certainly told me to do so many times over the years but never quite so literally." He was a bit hesitant, as he'd never ridden her before, but he was already warming to the idea as he crawled forward and sat on her lap.

Once settled there, Jack wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

"It was wonderful to see you today, back in your element," Jack murmured. "I missed that, more than I can say."

Anne took his wrists and began binding them to the bed on either side of her shoulders. She was using rope this time, wrapping it snugly around each wrist but allowing him to move his hands enough that he could grip the bed frame. When she was done she looked him over. "Yeah?"

Jack tilted his head to the side and studied her.

Anne looked at home now that they were out at sea, the tension eased from her shoulders, the sharpness of her mouth softened a bit. She was looking at him with a slight pleased smile. And Jack knew he had pleased her by letting her do what she had done to him last night. The thought made his breath catch in his chest, and his whole body feel warm. She had certainly made her point in an expert fashion about the importance, or lack thereof, in their anatomical differences.

She dug her fingertips into his lower back, and Jack groaned. He had bathed earlier when he'd had the chance in some cold water, and it had done nothing to soothe his sore muscles. Anne's fingers pressed harder. It was a bit agonizing, not in an altogether unpleasurable way, and only felt better as she continued, loosening the tightness in his back. He was extremely sensitive, and already felt hot and fucking desperate because of her little touches, his hard cock pressed against her artificial one between their stomachs. Jack breathed in slowly, shakily.

Anne reached down and pushed two fingers inside him and Jack bowed his head on her shoulder. He couldn't do much of anything, just let himself get lost in the feeling of her fingers and the scent of her hair. He buried his face in it. He was slipping over the edge, hardly able to focus.

She had yet to tell him what sort of crisis of identity she'd had due to his actions, but he knew whatever it was had left two people dead and blood all over the brothel floor. He'd thought at one point there was a chance he'd never see her again. It was too much to think about just now. What mattered was they were together, he had been forgiven, at least as far as he could be forgiven for hurting her like that, and he would make sure nothing like this came between them again. He didn't think either of them would be able to bear it.

Jack held his breath as Anne lifted him up by the hips. She guided her cock under him and then brought him down until his thighs were spread on either side of her.

"Fuck," Jack hissed, as she began rolling her hips up into him slowly, overwhelming him with sensations. Her hair hung over her face, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She was absolutely beautiful, and Jack was filled with tenderness for her. He wished he could touch her hair and pulled futilely at his bonds, and the pressure on his bruised wrists added to the rest of the pleasure in a way he could barely process.

"Use your legs, Jack," Anne muttered, "do some of the work."

His face grew hot. He did as she instructed, slowly, driving her deeper inside him, making himself moan. Their bodies were pressed together, his cock rubbing up against her stomach through her shirt, driving him almost out of his mind though they had just started.

Anne's face was flushed now, her fingers digging into his thighs, gaze sharp as a knife as she watched him.

Jack took a shuddering breath and said as lightly as he could manage, "You could hit me again, if you'd like."

Anne's eyes glinted slightly like she was laughing. "Yeah?"

She did it hard this time, and Jack's head snapped to the side against his arm. He blinked back tears as the feeling raced across his entire body.


"You like that?" Anne asked wryly, looking him over like she already knew the answer.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I rather did," he breathed, and shit --perhaps he hadn't fully considered how being slapped that hard would make him feel, because the words started gushing out.

"I'm so sorry, Anne, I'm truly sorry, I wasn't trying to get back at you for Max with what I did, please believe me. You know I think you're as capable, more capable than any man on this crew--it was just shortsighted and foolish, and-"

Anne grabbed her knife from beside the bed and held it to his throat, pushing her hips up sharply into him at the same time. That effectively silenced him, at least in terms of speaking. Jack bit down on his tongue so as not to moan obscenely, because it was all too much--the tightness around his wrists, how deep she had thrust her cock inside him, how good it felt when he arched his aching back.

"What the fuck, Jack, this ain't the time to talk."

He hung there, pressing his throat against her knife, gritting his teeth, and she had to pull back to avoid breaking his skin.

"I..." Jack shut his mouth.

Her pressing the knife to his throat reminded him of the first time they'd kissed. He had thought she was going to kill him at first, trying to get him up against a wall like she had, since at the time he had no idea what else she could've been after. And then she had pressed her mouth against his and Jack had fallen in love in that instant, as fast as a knife to the heart.

Whether they were soft or fierce and hard, her kisses had always been short and almost chaste. The way she kissed Max was different--like she was diving into the ocean without looking back, losing herself in the push and pull of Max's lips and tongue and teeth. Perhaps Anne didn't want to dive into the ocean with him, or, Jack liked to think, he had already drowned and she simply didn't have to try so hard to push him under.

He liked her short matter-of-fact-kisses how they were because they were reserved just for him.

He wanted to say how he loved her as more than a lover, like she was his own blood, and that he was sorry, and he wanted to be partners till they were in the fucking ground, like she'd said, except she already knew all of that. She knew. Jack heaved a sigh.

“Ain’t the time to talk, but we can later if you want,” Anne finished.

"Yes…yes, alright."

Anne brushed his cheek with her hand. "You want to stop?"

"No," Jack murmured, "I just want..."

He bowed his head and buried his face in the crook of her neck. It was an awkward angle, given how much taller he was, sitting atop her lap. He remembered the cold emptiness of being apart from her as he felt its exact inverse: incredible warmth and fullness.

Anne held the back of his neck, firmly reassuring. “'S alright,” she murmured as she rubbed with her fingers, aware that he was overwhelmed with emotions.

In a sense this was both punishment and reward: a reminder, like she'd said, not to treat her any different because she was a woman or let his crew come between them, and yet a reward just the same, because he was here on her lap, and she was holding him in her arms.

Jack pressed his lips to her cheek and murmured, “I know.”

Anne pulled him closer by his ass and Jack moaned quietly against her. She cursed under her breath, reached down around him and began fingering herself with her other hand.

"No, darling," Jack protested, "let me, after we're done, let me--"

"You ain't going to be good for nothing when I'm finished with you," Anne muttered.

It was only a slightly humiliating thought, made tolerable by the fact that he knew she was right. "Oh, fuck." She was jostling him with the movement of her hand, and Jack rocked his hips against her, chasing the feeling inside him and the friction of her shirt against his cock. He was babbling now: "Yes, oh, Anne , don't stop, I'm--"

"Why'd you got to be so fuckin' loud," Anne murmured with the hint of an amused smile.

Jack let out a laugh that trailed off into a noise of pleasure.

"Yeah, like that," Anne continued, giving him an appraising look as he ground his hips down against her. “Don't forget whose cock’s in you, and why you needed to get fucked like this in the first place."

The words sent a shiver through him. “I won't forget,” he managed to say before he became unable to speak.

He was already starting to come as her movements became a little more frantic beneath him. Anne clenched her jaw, making quiet noises between her teeth as she moved her hand. She bucked her hips hard. Jack’s cock was leaking against her shirt, terribly sensitive in a way that left him bereft of thought. He finished as Anne panted and opened her mouth in a silent gasp, thrusting against her hand, forcing Jack to ride out the waves of her orgasm as he clung to her. At last, when her movements ceased, he collapsed against her utterly spent.

Anne withdrew her hand from between her legs and used it to open Jack's mouth by his teeth. He moaned as she held him there, and opened his eyes to look at her: her hair was a little messed up, face flushed, eyes wide and riveted on him. He was entirely captivated.

There was a time when he would never have let her see him like this, let alone submit to being fucked at all. It had been something about his pride, stupidly enough. She just looked at him, and it was at once vulnerable and a feeling of such security and safety that Jack's body went slack with it, knowing that his partnership with her would never end no matter how much the physical side of it changed, as it had already begun changing since she stepped into that bedroom with Max.

Anne rubbed a little circle against his cheek with her thumb, her other fingers still lying in his mouth. Jack could taste her on his tongue, and closed his mouth around her fingers with a sigh. He wasn't good for much else for a long while.



Jack lay on the bed, shifting to relieve his sore back, and the way his shoulders had cramped while his wrists had been bound. It felt good to lie there and still feel all the things Anne had done to him. Her marks were all over him.

Once she had cleaned them both up and changed into a fresh shirt, Anne lay beside him and Jack closed his arms around her. He listened to the slow rhythm of her breathing as the ship moved gently beneath them.

"You did good, Jack," she murmured against his chest. "You know this's how it's supposed to be. Partners, the two of us."

She looked up at him, and Jack lowered his face to hers and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Partners, some way or another,” he said quietly. “No matter how things change."