fanfic: At Your Mercy
Title: At Your Mercy
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Disclaimer: Let's play Legolas and state the obvious: Jack and James are not mine. I'm using them to write porn. And no, I don't feel guilty. Should I?
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Finally, the commodore has the pirate at his mercy.
WARNING: Kink. Don't read if violent sex squicks you. I mean it! This is very very dark.
A/N: written for elessil and her FiWriMo assignment "Sparrington!" Probably not at all what you expected, but the muses kind of went mad.
Thanks to: meletor_et_al for the dedicated beta. *huggles*
*****
"Now isn't this what you would call a lucky catch, Mr. Sparrow?" Norrington gave the pirate a mocking smirk. "Who would have thought that I'd finally have you at my mercy?" And to illustrate his point, he tugged at the iron chain that held Jack Sparrow's wrists together.
The pirate winced, but he grit his teeth and didn't say a word.
"And who would have thought I'd see the day the great Captain Sparrow is at a loss for words?" Norrington raised his eyebrows. "A wholly new experience."
He paced, around the table, around the chair, until he was standing right behind the bound pirate. "But naturally, I don't intend to waste my time - our time, if you prefer - with idle conversation." Suddenly, he stretched out his arm, moved it around Sparrow's waist and forcefully dug his hand into the man's crotch. A few strokes, and he had him right where he wanted him.
Still, Jack Sparrow kept silent, desperately surpressing the whimpers that wanted to make their way out of his throat. He couldn't give Norrington that pleasure. His body had already betrayed him once. And the bloody commodore didn't take his bloody hand away!
The pirate scowled, but Norrington didn't even see it. While his one hand still teased Sparrow through his breeches, his opposite arm was around Sparrow's neck, dangerously pressing against his adam's apple.
"So I was right, after all. You are a hedonist." Norrington's hot breath was like a slap against his cheek - which followed right afterwards. "But I'd hate to think I'm doing you a favour." Mercilessly, he pushed the pirate against his cot, completely ignoring the possibility of injuries, even when he heard a small noise of pain as Jack Sparrow hit his head.
Finally, the pirate decided to speak. "You know that I'm going to have your head for this," he growled.
Norrington merely laughed, not for long, but with enough impact to hurt. "Oh, really? And how is that? You are about to hang, if that has escaped your notice. Once we reach Port Royal, you will be swinging from the end of a rope - and this time, you won't have any naive blacksmith around to get you free." Another evil chuckle. "Honeymoon - but I'm quite sure you are familiar with that information."
A growl was all Sparrow was able to utter until Norrington pinned him against the mattress, brutally ripping off his clothes. "If you say one more word, I will gag you, is that clear?"
It was tempting to tease the commodore, but Jack Sparrow decided against it. It would only delay them and increase the pain. So he merely nodded, but he didn't stop struggling. He wouldn't get Norrington to change his mind, that was for sure, but at least it would not look as if he was enjoying it.
Suddenly, he winced sharply and cried out - nothing articulate, but it was clear that he was more than angry now. Damn, did the bloody commodore know nothing about preparation? And it hurt, it hurt so fucking much he thought he would die. Only once had he experienced that before, and never again. He still kept the bone of the man's index finger in his sea chest.
"I'll kill you," he breathed against the pillow, then there was a long silence.
And Norrington quickened his pace, rubbing against the dry, sensitive flesh over and over again, his fingers digging into Sparrow's hips, bruising. His breath went ragged, he was on the verge of spending, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not before he was sure of his victory.
"Please, commodore, stop! Please! No!"
Norrington stopped. What had the pirate just said? He could barely remember, but he had to be sure. "What- what was that?" he asked in between heavy breaths.
It took some time before he got an answer. "Nothin', bloody hell!" the pirate sighed, quite exhausted already, but apparently not satisfied. "Get on with it, or I swear I'll do it meself!"
"Sorry-"
"On with it! Now!"
And at the almost inaudible, "Fuckin' tease", he heard from underneath him, Norrington decided not to stretch the moment any longer. He was aching for release, and the quicker he got to it, the better.
At his next thrust, he twisted his hips slightly and pressed them hard against the pirate's backside before he pulled out and repeated the procedure. Ah - there it was. Sparrow's little yelp sounded like music in his ears, especially because it was evident that he hadn't wanted to utter it. At my mercy, Norrington thought. Finally.
Only a few well-aimed but hard thrusts later, both the pirate and the commodore cried out as they came, shaking against each other, Sparrow's fingers clutching the cotton of the pillow, Norrington's digging into the pirate's skin.
For a while, the commodore rested atop the pirate, trying to catch his breath, then he rolled off and fetched a wet towel.
"I'll be damned," said Jack, panting heavily. "I always knew you had it in you, but... fuck me..." He waved his hands in front of his face, gasping for air.
James smiled, taking a seat next to Jack on the cot. "Did I hurt you much? I mean, I know that I hurt you - how is your head?" Almost hesitantly, he moved his hand to softly caress Jack's hair, looking quite worried.
Jack grinned, the gold sparkling in the dark. "Ah, that's nothing," he said, stealing a quick kiss. "You know, I worry a bit more about what you did with your yard down there. I won't be able to walk for a week, I reckon."
"I'm sorry-"
"Ah no, we won't have any of that." Jack smiled and waved his still shackled hands. "Oh by the way, can you get those off. They're startin' to hurt a bit. Thanks. Now as I was sayin'... It wasn't exactly what you'd call flowersex, o'course, an' at some point, I was thinkin' of bloody Captain Ratchett an' his index finger, but you know, 't was all worth it. An' so real! I don't want to know what you're doing with your real prisoners!" He chuckled, playfully nudging Norrington.
"It was? I mean-" Captain Ratchett?
"You were damn good, luv. You're always good, that's why I intend to keep you, but this time..." He gave James an amused wink. "Your kinks are startin' to worry me."
James blushed, not knowing what to say to that. He had suggested it, yes, but it was Jack who had agreed wholeheartedly, maybe out of curiosity, maybe just because he wanted some change.
But Jack was already continuing. "You know what? Next time you'll be my prisoner. And we'll be on the Pearl."
That made James smirk. "And you dare chide me for my kinks..."
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Disclaimer: Let's play Legolas and state the obvious: Jack and James are not mine. I'm using them to write porn. And no, I don't feel guilty. Should I?
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Finally, the commodore has the pirate at his mercy.
WARNING: Kink. Don't read if violent sex squicks you. I mean it! This is very very dark.
A/N: written for elessil and her FiWriMo assignment "Sparrington!" Probably not at all what you expected, but the muses kind of went mad.
Thanks to: meletor_et_al for the dedicated beta. *huggles*
*****
"Now isn't this what you would call a lucky catch, Mr. Sparrow?" Norrington gave the pirate a mocking smirk. "Who would have thought that I'd finally have you at my mercy?" And to illustrate his point, he tugged at the iron chain that held Jack Sparrow's wrists together.
The pirate winced, but he grit his teeth and didn't say a word.
"And who would have thought I'd see the day the great Captain Sparrow is at a loss for words?" Norrington raised his eyebrows. "A wholly new experience."
He paced, around the table, around the chair, until he was standing right behind the bound pirate. "But naturally, I don't intend to waste my time - our time, if you prefer - with idle conversation." Suddenly, he stretched out his arm, moved it around Sparrow's waist and forcefully dug his hand into the man's crotch. A few strokes, and he had him right where he wanted him.
Still, Jack Sparrow kept silent, desperately surpressing the whimpers that wanted to make their way out of his throat. He couldn't give Norrington that pleasure. His body had already betrayed him once. And the bloody commodore didn't take his bloody hand away!
The pirate scowled, but Norrington didn't even see it. While his one hand still teased Sparrow through his breeches, his opposite arm was around Sparrow's neck, dangerously pressing against his adam's apple.
"So I was right, after all. You are a hedonist." Norrington's hot breath was like a slap against his cheek - which followed right afterwards. "But I'd hate to think I'm doing you a favour." Mercilessly, he pushed the pirate against his cot, completely ignoring the possibility of injuries, even when he heard a small noise of pain as Jack Sparrow hit his head.
Finally, the pirate decided to speak. "You know that I'm going to have your head for this," he growled.
Norrington merely laughed, not for long, but with enough impact to hurt. "Oh, really? And how is that? You are about to hang, if that has escaped your notice. Once we reach Port Royal, you will be swinging from the end of a rope - and this time, you won't have any naive blacksmith around to get you free." Another evil chuckle. "Honeymoon - but I'm quite sure you are familiar with that information."
A growl was all Sparrow was able to utter until Norrington pinned him against the mattress, brutally ripping off his clothes. "If you say one more word, I will gag you, is that clear?"
It was tempting to tease the commodore, but Jack Sparrow decided against it. It would only delay them and increase the pain. So he merely nodded, but he didn't stop struggling. He wouldn't get Norrington to change his mind, that was for sure, but at least it would not look as if he was enjoying it.
Suddenly, he winced sharply and cried out - nothing articulate, but it was clear that he was more than angry now. Damn, did the bloody commodore know nothing about preparation? And it hurt, it hurt so fucking much he thought he would die. Only once had he experienced that before, and never again. He still kept the bone of the man's index finger in his sea chest.
"I'll kill you," he breathed against the pillow, then there was a long silence.
And Norrington quickened his pace, rubbing against the dry, sensitive flesh over and over again, his fingers digging into Sparrow's hips, bruising. His breath went ragged, he was on the verge of spending, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not before he was sure of his victory.
"Please, commodore, stop! Please! No!"
Norrington stopped. What had the pirate just said? He could barely remember, but he had to be sure. "What- what was that?" he asked in between heavy breaths.
It took some time before he got an answer. "Nothin', bloody hell!" the pirate sighed, quite exhausted already, but apparently not satisfied. "Get on with it, or I swear I'll do it meself!"
"Sorry-"
"On with it! Now!"
And at the almost inaudible, "Fuckin' tease", he heard from underneath him, Norrington decided not to stretch the moment any longer. He was aching for release, and the quicker he got to it, the better.
At his next thrust, he twisted his hips slightly and pressed them hard against the pirate's backside before he pulled out and repeated the procedure. Ah - there it was. Sparrow's little yelp sounded like music in his ears, especially because it was evident that he hadn't wanted to utter it. At my mercy, Norrington thought. Finally.
Only a few well-aimed but hard thrusts later, both the pirate and the commodore cried out as they came, shaking against each other, Sparrow's fingers clutching the cotton of the pillow, Norrington's digging into the pirate's skin.
For a while, the commodore rested atop the pirate, trying to catch his breath, then he rolled off and fetched a wet towel.
"I'll be damned," said Jack, panting heavily. "I always knew you had it in you, but... fuck me..." He waved his hands in front of his face, gasping for air.
James smiled, taking a seat next to Jack on the cot. "Did I hurt you much? I mean, I know that I hurt you - how is your head?" Almost hesitantly, he moved his hand to softly caress Jack's hair, looking quite worried.
Jack grinned, the gold sparkling in the dark. "Ah, that's nothing," he said, stealing a quick kiss. "You know, I worry a bit more about what you did with your yard down there. I won't be able to walk for a week, I reckon."
"I'm sorry-"
"Ah no, we won't have any of that." Jack smiled and waved his still shackled hands. "Oh by the way, can you get those off. They're startin' to hurt a bit. Thanks. Now as I was sayin'... It wasn't exactly what you'd call flowersex, o'course, an' at some point, I was thinkin' of bloody Captain Ratchett an' his index finger, but you know, 't was all worth it. An' so real! I don't want to know what you're doing with your real prisoners!" He chuckled, playfully nudging Norrington.
"It was? I mean-" Captain Ratchett?
"You were damn good, luv. You're always good, that's why I intend to keep you, but this time..." He gave James an amused wink. "Your kinks are startin' to worry me."
James blushed, not knowing what to say to that. He had suggested it, yes, but it was Jack who had agreed wholeheartedly, maybe out of curiosity, maybe just because he wanted some change.
But Jack was already continuing. "You know what? Next time you'll be my prisoner. And we'll be on the Pearl."
That made James smirk. "And you dare chide me for my kinks..."