#so beware of that if you haven't ready Pitch Black

[ourflaghashands]

just wip things

a spicy scene from Pitch Black that I was too impatient to wait for 😂 (don't worry, I'm still working on chapter 4)

Read under the cut!

(I don't write spicy stuff very often so I'm sorry if it's wonky :'D)

Izzy paces back and forth across the captain’s cabin. It’s well past the point when Stede said he would be joining him, and Izzy is dying for an explanation. He hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, not really. But Izzy can still see Stede’s face, pinched and anxious, and the authoritative voice pouring out of him still rings in Izzy’s ears. He doesn’t know what to expect when Stede finally joins him.

He manages to get in a few more laps before the door opens with a gentle click and Stede walks inside, looking pale and drawn.

“How’s Frenchie?” Izzy asks, before anything else can be said. Stede puts up a hand momentarily before divesting himself of his coat. He sinks into one of the armchairs with a sigh. “He’ll be fine. Might need stitches, but Roach assured me he’d make a full recovery.”

Something in Izzy’s chest unclenches. He knows that it wasn’t his fault, but he had a sense of responsibility for the crew. He was supposed to make sure they were prepared for everything, and Frenchie’s sword work had never been his strength. Perhaps Izzy would have to fix that.

“Good.” Izzy murmurs, just loud enough for Stede to hear. He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s gone soft, so he adds, “It’d be a shame to lose the only bard on the ship.”

Stede snorts, slightly undignified, and the response says more about how exhausted he is than his looks.  Izzy slinks over to him. “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?” He can’t just sit here and wonder any longer – the unknown is driving him insane.

“I’m under no illusion about your abilities with a sword, Israel, but even you have to realize you were way in over your head. Why did you put yourself in that position?” Bonnet’s words strike something in Izzy, drawing up memories of the night of The Incident with Edward.

Izzy swallows, looking down at his feet. “I couldn’t let anything happen to my Captain.” He responds easily, because it’s true – even if he and Edward still aren’t entirely in good standing with each other, Izzy still can’t bear the thought of losing him. He’s been the one constant in Izzy’s life. The single port in a storm for as long as he can remember.

“I understand. And I do thank you for helping him. But next time you shouldn’t go in alone like that.” And Izzy knows Bonnet is right, loath as he is to admit it. Izzy has always been Edward’s attack dog, his sword, an extension of the legend himself, but Blackbeard’s reputation isn’t unfounded. Ed probably would have been okay if Izzy hadn’t jumped in like that, but taking the risk of finding out was too terrifying to give thought to.

Izzy finally crosses the room to Stede and sinks to the floor, resting his forehead against one of the Alpha’s knees. “I’m sorry for making you worry.” He bites the words out, because this sort of vulnerability is still new to him. Bonnet makes a noise, somewhat like a scoff but too gentle, and cards his fingers through Izzy’s hair.

“You’re okay, darling. I’m just glad nothing happened.” As calm as Stede sounds, the memory of his furious gaze is still Fresh in Izzy’s mind, and it draws a submissive whine from the omega’s throat.

“None of that, now.” Bonnet murmurs, reaching down and forcing Izzy’s face up. He leans down and presses their lips together, all gentle. Izzy lets himself melt into it, lets Bonnet deepen the kiss and explore his mouth with his tongue. He takes what he’s given and nothing more, until Bonnet breaks the kiss. Izzy’s tongue darts out to wet his own lips.

He’s still tense, despite the fact that Stede seems to have forgiven him. There’s always been a balance to Izzy’s experiences, and right now the scales feel tipped. He had upset Stede, he knows he had, but there’s no follow up. No retribution. It leaves something in him unsettled, and Izzy doesn’t like it.

“What if I…” He trails off, before he realizes how messed up that thought process is, and he feels his face go warm.

“What if you what?” Bonnet prompts. His hand is still in Izzy’s hair, scratching soothing circles into his scalp. It’s almost distracting enough to make the omega lose his train of thought. He feels his face pinching together like he’s just eaten a lemon. How does he voice the problem without sounding absolutely mental?

He’s never been good with words. That’s always been one of his shortcomings.

“I…you can’t just forgive me, Stede. I saw how angry you were.” Izzy doesn’t look Stede in the eyes, focusing his attention on a fold in the Alpha’s shirt.

“I just did.” Stede says, nonplussed. Izzy fights down a groan, shaking his head and nearly dislodging Stede’s hand.

“I don’t want you to.” Izzy clarifies, feeling his face grow hotter. “I need you to follow through.”

There’s a long moment of silence, before Stede makes a soft noise of understanding. “You…want to be punished.” It isn’t a question, but Izzy nods a confirmation all the same. Shame wells up in the pit of his stomach because he knows it’s not normal of him, but he can’t help the way he is. A lifetime of conditioning, quid-pro-quo, an eye for an eye – whatever you want to call it – has made it impossible for Izzy to leave things feeling unfinished, especially when it comes to those who have earned his respect.

And, despite everything, Stede has earned it.

Stede hums thoughtfully, his hand leaving Izzy’s hair. Izzy fights down a soft noise of disappointment – he hasn’t earned that affection yet. There’s a lingering silence, and Izzy’s nerves fray just a little more as time stretches on between them. He feels like he’s about to burst when Stede finally addresses him.

“What if you made it up to me?” Stede asks, and Izzy finally raises his eyes to look the Alpha in the face. It’s a decent proposal – Stede seems hesitant to actually punish him, never seems to really want to unless he’s truly angry, but his eyes are bright, and Izzy thinks he can work with this.

“…Yeah, alright.” He concedes, the tension in his shoulders receding a bit. He will earn his forgiveness. That’s acceptable.

“Come here, darling.” Stede urges Izzy up with his hands, and Izzy rises from the floor, clambering into Stede’s lap and straddling his thighs, his feet hanging over the edge of the seat. Stede pulls him into a heated kiss, and Izzy can feel that the Alpha is already half-hard in his trousers. Something in Izzy’s stomach squirms pleasantly at the thought. It could have been the excitement of the raid, but Izzy likes the thought that their proximity is what’s doing it.

Stede kisses Izzy until he’s breathless, delirious and pliant under the Alpha’s hands. The hard line of Stede’s cock is pressing into the space between them, and Izzy’s hips roll forward into the bulk of it, making Stede hiss into his mouth.

“Strip for me, Darling.” Stede’s voice is rough, and tinged with the steel of command that Izzy is helpless to disobey. He carefully extricates himself from Stede, removing his clothing one piece at a time. His cravat and ring are first, and he places them carefully on the nearby table. His vest, shirt, and pants are quick to follow, before Izzy peels off his smalls. They’re damp, and he knows he won’t be putting them back on until they’ve been washed.

Stede rises from the chair, grabbing a cushion off of the nearby chaise and depositing it onto the floor. “Kneel there, and wait for me.” He says, no-nonsense. Izzy sinks to his knees on the cushion, glad of the padding. He’s not as young as he used to be, after all.

Stede busies himself, grabbing a few things from around the room before going into the washroom for several minutes. Izzy remains where he is, letting the calm warmth of obeying the orders given to him wash over him. He’s drifting, mind pleasantly fuzzy, and the burning need between his thighs is only a distant bother.

He loses track of time, and nearly jolts out of that fuzzy space when Stede returns, carrying a basin and wearing a robe that does absolutely nothing to hide his straining erection. He places the basin and a cloth down on the table, before turning his attention back to Izzy. He pets a hand through his hair, humming pleasantly.

“Good boy, Izzy. So patient for me.” He rumbles, and it’s enough to make Izzy’s legs shake where they’re still holding him up. Stede reaches down and presses the pad of his thumb against Izzy’s lower lip, and Izzy’s mouth falls open obediently. Stede presses the digit flat to Izzy’s tongue, holding his mouth open.

“Will this be alright for you? If I use your mouth?” Stede asks, and Izzy whines at the promise of it, nodding his head just slightly so as not to dislodge the Alpha’s hand. The consent seems enthusiastic enough for Stede, because he removes his thumb and tugs his robe open. His cock is standing at attention, rock-hard and glistening at the tip. Izzy feels his mouth water, but doesn’t close it.

Stede shifts closer, letting just the tip rest against Izzy’s tongue. He shifts his hips, dragging it back and forth against the plain of it, before slowly pushing in. His thrusts are shallow at first, presumably to let Izzy get used to the feel of it, before he pushes deeper. Izzy can feel the tip of it hitting the back of his throat before long, and subtly tilts his head to give the Alpha a better angle, breathing through his nose.

Stede sets up a slow, lazy rhythm, giving Izzy time to pull in little puffs of breath between each thrust. It’s a torturously slow pace, but the repetitiveness of it drives Izzy to heights he didn’t know he could reach. The weight of Stede on his tongue, the control of it, and the knowledge that he’s being used by Stede to chase his own pleasure tugs him into that fuzzy space once more, and he’s only mildly aware of saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth.

He’s painfully hard himself, and he can feel slick drooling out of him, down between his thighs and onto the cushion below him. He reaches up to hold onto Stede’s hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He doesn’t control the pace – Stede is doing that, but he needs contact, and this is the best way to get it.

Stede seems to read his mind, and one of his hands goes to Izzy’s hair, fingers carding through it and pressing against the base of his skull. Izzy’s eyes slip closed and he loses himself in the sensation of it. The alpha keeps up his carefully controlled pace, and Izzy can feel warmth and pressure building between his thighs; he’s close to coming, his hips twitching slightly against empty air.

It goes on like this, Izzy quickly losing track of time, his own arousal building. Stede’s thrusts are getting a little faster, cutting Izzy’s breathing off at quicker intervals. He’s swallowing around Stede’s cock, willing the Alpha to go deeper. Stede complies, and soon enough he’s fucking into Izzy’s mouth with abandon.

The intensity of it is too much, and Izzy feels the tension between his legs build at a dizzying rate. His thighs flex as he tries to stave it off, but there’s nothing he can do. Heat blooms low in his belly and his hips jerk forwards as he comes, untouched, his cunt clenching rhythmically on absolutely nothing.

He distantly hears Stede swear above him, a choked-off ‘Did you just—’ spilling out of his lips before his hips stutter and he comes down the back of Izzy’s throat. Izzy swallows him down with purpose, sucking gently until Bonnet’s softened cock slides back out of his mouth, leaving him empty. He whines, bereft, and suddenly Stede is on the ground with him, pulling him into a filthy kiss. Izzy doesn’t doubt he can taste himself, his tongue is so far back in the omega’s mouth.

The aftershocks and shaking in his thighs are too much, and Izzy sinks the rest of the way down, a grimace pulling at his lips as he lands in the cold puddle of his own slick. Stede chuckles gently above him, pressing his face down to nuzzle into Izzy’s hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmurs, before carefully rising to his feet. “Get on the bed.” He says, crossing over to the table to fetch the basin and cloth.

Izzy rises on unsteady legs, making it over to the bed and sitting down heavily. Stede sets the basin down next to the bed and pushes on Izzy’s chest until he’s lying back. Stede goes to work on him, using the damp cloth to clean the slick from his thighs and cunt. The drag of it on his oversensitive nub draws a whimper from him, but he’s too far gone to feel shame for it. Stede makes a soothing sound in the back of his throat, finishing up his work before climbing into the bed next to him.

He pulls Izzy against him and Izzy immediately shoves his nose into the crook of Stede’s neck, scenting him thoroughly. A stuttering purr rumbles up from his chest, unfamiliar but comfortable. He curls up against the Alpha, hoping the noise will be enough to convey his thanks. He no longer feels off-kilter, and he can feel the tug of sleep softening his edges until it pulls him under. He’s vaguely aware of Stede pulling the blanket over both of them, but he’s out like a snuffed candle before much else can register.