♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

“Shhh… Shh..”

Izzy’s gloved hand clamps over your mouth, though it does little to muffle the wanton moans that spill out against the supple black leather. He growls against your neck, the short hairs of his beard scratching against the soft flesh of your throat and making you purr with need.

“Shh..” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and presses a sweet kiss there — a stark contrast to the harsh, needy slap of his hips against yours. “Can’t let anyone hear us, little bird. You know that. Be nice and quiet for me, now…”

You whine into his hand as your body jolts with each forceful thrust. It isn’t often he takes control, but Calypso, when he does; he does.

“I know… I know… It’s just too good, hm?” There is a clear hint of smugness in his tone as his hot breath fans against your ear. Usually you’d want to smack the smug smirk off his face, but now just the sound of pride in his voice makes your tip leak. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Nothing ever does. He swipes a bead of pre onto his glove, making you whimper as you rub your cock against the leather, before he brings it to your mouth and shoves it past your lips. “Have a taste of yourself.”

A choked groan surrounds the clothed digit pushed into your mouth and you swirl your tongue around it. Mostly you just taste the dull leather of the glove, but there is a salty essence to it that makes you throb against your own stomach.

“Good boy,” Izzy grunts, pushing at your lower back with his free hand to make you arch more as he drives into you. His hand leaves your mouth and grabs at your hip, dragging you harder into his every thrust. “That’s it.. Takin’ my cock so well…”

He’s close, and you can tell. He always gets the same way when he’s the one fucking you. His muffled grunts and groans turn into shaky gasps that fall past parted lips, each buck of his hips starts to become sloppy and uncontrolled. Not to mention his hands wander, groping at every bit of skin he can reach like it’s his job.

“F-Fuuck.. Take that cock.. Good boy..” He pants. You smack back into him, meeting him halfway every time he impales you on his length. He always loves it when you do that, and this time is no different as it almost immediately pushes him over the edge. A few stuttering snaps of his hips later, he groans and buries himself all the way inside, his cock twitching as he pulses his come inside you.

His hand immediately slips down to wrap around your length and stroke you fast. His gloved fist gives you an almost unbearable amount of friction that has you coming all over his fingers after a few pumps, like some blushing virgin. Your whimpers turn into satisfied little sighs as he plants gentle kisses on your shoulder, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“Fuck, you’re so good. Feel alright?” He whispers and gives your ass a little smack with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” You huff out a fond laugh, brushing away the bead of sweat gathering on your brow as you straighten up from where you’re bent over and reluctantly pull him out of you. You groan as his softening cock slides out, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, and watch with a pout as he tucks himself back into his pants. If it was up to you, you’d definitely be going another round right now.

A grateful hum leaves you as he helps you back into your black linen shirt and yanks your leather trousers up around your hips. You can’t help but wince as your aching cock rubs against the fabric, biting back a tiny whimper. “Think Stede knows we’ve been gone?”

“Nah,” Izzy scoffs and shamelessly licks your leftover come from his glove. The sight alone sends another bolt of need straight through you, and it’s a struggle to keep your boots rooted to the floor and not to pounce on him all over again. “Bonnet wouldn’t notice a cannon ball if it wasn’t shoved up his—“

“Now,” You scold playfully and reach over to pinch at his arm. “Be nice.”

“No,” Izzy returns simply, wrapping his fingers around the crook of your elbow and tugging you away from the conveniently set up crescent of barrels.

Trying to get Izzy to be a little nicer to people was proving to be… a challenge, that’s for sure. You’ve managed to get him to be nice to you, at least.

Most of the time.

When the two of you emerge on deck and the blistering sun beats down on your faces, Izzy lets his hand fall from your arm. You fight the urge to complain at the loss of contact, especially when his come is still buried deep in your ass and your head is swimming from your orgasm. All you want right now is to cling to him. But you know why you can’t.

He hasn’t said it outright, but it’s obvious Izzy doesn’t want the crew to know about… Whatever is going on between the two of you.

It makes your heart sting just a little bit, but you manage to put your own desire to be public with your attachment aside, in favour of keeping him in his comfort zone. It’s clear he feels safe in your company, and there’s no way in hell you want to do anything to ruin that.

“Alright?” Wee John throws a knowing smirk in your direction as you step away from Izzy to flop down beside him. “Took a while checking the oranges.”

“Mm. Wanted to be thorough after last time,” You give a halfhearted mumble and roll up the billowing sleeves of your shirt until they rest around your elbows. Huffing out a sigh and fanning yourself with your hand, you grumble, “Hot today, isn’t it?”

“Definitely sounded hot. You’ve got a bit of somethin’ on your mouth, by the way.” Wee John gestures to the general area of his own lips.

“What?” You squeak, choking on your saliva upon hearing the accusatory tone in his voice

Wee John tips his head back and lets out a delighted cackle as his large palm smacks at your back. “Oh, don’t act all coy. We all heard you.”

“All of you?” You manage to get out once you’re finished choking on your spit. You throw a glance around the deck at the rest of your crewmates and, sure enough, they’re all staring. And they all look as if they know exactly what you’ve been up to. “Shit.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Everyone needs to blow off some steam. But… Izzy the Spewer? Really?” Wee John snorts, judgement ringing clear in his tone.

“Calypso help me,” You mumble and bury your flushed face in your hands, pointedly ignoring the sound of Wee John snickering beside you.

Izzy’s going to be so mad.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Dinner is about as awkward as you anticipated.

The others sneak little glances at you, thinking they’re being subtle about the way they look you up and down. As soon as you meet their gazes, they suddenly look away and clear their throats. There is a deafening silence draped over the tables, one that you can’t quite take anymore after about ten minutes of it. Muttering a string of curses under your breath, you suddenly stand from the table and abandon your plate, leaving the eating area to head back up on deck.

The walk up the steps seems to take an eternity as guilt eats away at you, tugging at your heartstrings as your mind screams at you; Izzy will be pissed if he finds out that people know. He won’t want you anymore. He’ll leave you.

You make a beeline for the captain’s quarters, where you know Izzy is eating with Ed and Stede — much to his disdain. Your knuckles rap twice against the door in a sharp knock. There is some grumbling and the scrape of a chair against the floor from inside, before Izzy yanks the door open.

“What—“ The venomous spit of a word dies on his tongue when he sees you standing there, and his fierce expression softens. “Oh… I thought you were eatin’ with the others?”

You can’t take it. How are you supposed to make small talk when you feel like you might throw up at any given moment?

“Everyone knows that we fucked,” You blurt out. “And I think they know that we do it often.”

Izzy’s whole body tenses, his shoulders forming a tight line as his jaw goes rigid. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry,” You whisper desperately. “I know you didn’t want anyone to know about us—“

Izzy’s thick brows knit together into a deep frown and he steps out on deck with you, pulling the door to the captain’s quarters shut behind him. “Hey… That isn’t true.”

All you can do in response for a second is frown right back at him. It isn’t true? But he’s been so secretive since your first time together, always creeping around with you and trying to keep you quiet…

“But—“

“I just,” He pauses to puff out a deep sigh and rub his fingertips over his beard. “I don’t wan’ you to be embarrassed. With me.”

“Embarrassed?” You let out a soft breath, your shoulders sagging from their tense line around your jaw. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Come on,” Izzy scoffs weakly, his hand moving to scratch at the nape of his neck. “We both know ‘m not the most desirable of partners. The crew’ve probably been takin’ the piss all day. You’re stunnin’, and I’m...”

“Don’t care what the crew think,” You murmur and take a few steps closer to him, until your bodies are almost pressed together. “I love being with you. I think you’re desirable. I think you’re stunning. And only Wee John made fun. Think the others are too scared of being screamed at by you.”

“You like bein’ with me?” Izzy mumbles. He shifts almost uncomfortably and rests his free hand on your cheek, his touch incredibly gentle as the digits brush against your cheekbone. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, Iz,” You whisper and lean into his hand with a content sigh. “I mean it. You’re perfect to me. I couldn’t ask for anyone else to call mine. I don’t think you realise how much I… How much you mean to me.”

A shaky gasp leaves Izzy’s parted lips and he presses closer still, resting his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “Shit. You make my heart hurt when you say things like that. Damn you, man.”

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.”

“Yes, boss,” Izzy huffs and uses his hand on your cheek to pull you closer, letting his lips slide against yours in a tender kiss. You’re no stranger to sweet affection from him, but it still makes you melt every damn time. Especially when you’re already overwhelmed with relief and pure love for him.

The sudden cacophony of wolf whistles and cheers from behind you makes you yelp and almost jump out of your skin. You whirl around to find the whole crew — sans the captains — watching the pair of you with grins on their faces.

“We knew you were boinking!” Frenchie shouts with glee.

Izzy begins to growl, probably about to curse them out and give them week long punishments, but you shush him and brush your fingers over his beard. “Shhh. Just let them have their moment, and they’ll get over it by tomorrow,” You snicker. It’s true, and you can see that knowledge settling in his eyes. The crew don’t exactly have the best attention spans.

“Fine,” Izzy snarls, and he’s swarmed in an instant.

As the crew surround the pair of you, poor Izzy is subjected to a series of questions — who’s on top? how long has it been going on? will Stede marry the two of you? why not? — and he looks ready to chuck himself overboard at any moment. But even amongst the chaos and the barrage of questions being tossed his way, you notice him looking back at you once or twice with a soft look of pure adoration glimmering in his eyes.

And you watch him in return with a matching expression.

"look at you, pretty thing.." the older man looked down at you, leaning his head on his hand as he sat in his chair. your knees ached, naked body flushed while vox sat with a shit-eating grin on his face. you held his cock in your hand, jerking him slowly as you caught your breath. its been about an hour of his little session with you by now - he was still fully clothed, nudging your cock with the tip of his shoe every now and then to make you jolt. you couldn’t help the pitiful moan that left your lips whenever he dug his shoe into your skin a bit harder than normal.

you were sure you’d have marks on your knees from how long you’ve been in the same position, worshipping everything your owner had to give you while he coo’d and praised. his shirt unbuttoned slightly, pale skin dusted with a light blush every time you deepthroated his girth. you knew how much he liked it when you did that - his shoulders tensing for a moment before he let out a relieved sigh.

"thats it, youre a good little pet, arent you? desperate for my attention?" his hips thrusted into your mouth, grip tightening on your hair as he used your throat like a fleshlight, groaning happily. his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, long fingers threading themselves in your hair while you tried your best not to choke. his little hums of approval made your body ache, eyes closing when his long nails dug at your scalp.

“you dont mind if daddy uses your pretty mouth a bit, dont you?” you could only hum in response, eyes watery as you shook your head.  vox grinned devilishly, pushing his hips a bit further towards you. his perfect pet, mouth full of his cock.

When the silence did break after both too long and too brief a period of time, it was David who spoke up.  “What are you thinking about?” He asked you, looking over the top of his glasses at you. “You have that... Thinking face of yours.” He noted, and you simply shrugged whilst you tried to think of an answer.  “I don’t know.” You responded, turning your attention back to the tv, letting whatever schlock that Alex had left on take your focus for a moment.

 David cleared his throat a little bit to get your attention again, and you looked over to him, resting your cheek on your shoulder. “What?” You asked quietly.  “What are you thinking about?” He asked again, leaning forward on the table he sat at. You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head at him with a little bit of a smile playing on your lips. You decide to play along with his little game, pursing your lips in thought at him.  “You, I guess.” There’s a beat of silence, before David chuckles quietly at what your answer was- more in disbelief than anything else.  “You’re joking around, right? Please tell me you’re not starting to pick up on Alex’s sense of humour.” He mused, smiling slightly. 

“Yes... And no.” You reply. David quirks a brow at this, prompting you to go on. “I mean...” You begin, trying to find the right words for what you’re current train of thought is. “We spend a lot of time together... Both around and not around the other two.”  He nods slowly as you speak, seeing your point on this. “And... We know each other, fairly in-depth. I mean, especially when compared to the other two idiots.” You chuckle, and he nods again. “You have a point... Where are you going with this?” David asked, his brows starting to furrow again as you continued to steer the conversation the way you desired, with your sweater-clad flatmate along for the journey. 

“Well, normally, when people spend a lot of time together, they tend to start to grow really fond of each other.” You continue,  “Y’know, the exposure effect?” You prompt, using your hands for emphasis.  “Are you... Saying you’re fond of me?” David inquires, a smile starting to play upon his lips. “Maybe,” You reply, and he starts to smile a little wider, not too far off from a grin. A grin you were indeed very fond of. You start to smile back at him, the warmth spreading over your expression. 

“Well... Maybe I’m fond of you, too..” He mumbled, almost nonchalantly. It took you a couple of seconds to actually clock what he had said, and your smile grew ever wider.  “And you’re not joking around?” You ask, almost too used to this kind of thing with people like Alex.  “I’m not Alex.” David replies with a chuckle, seemingly catching on to your line of thought. “I don’t play around with people like he does, do I?” He shakes his head playfully at the phantom insinuation. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

He had you there. He hadn’t ever lied. Well, not enough to hurt your feelings; no, he had achieved the Golden Mean of honesty with you. Maybe less so with Juliet and Alex, but that was more because he just was not as open with either of them. Your relationship was special, a very close bond, and one that you both cherished deeply- perhaps more than you would have yourself believe. “Never,” You answered, lowering your gaze for a moment, though the smile didn’t drop with your eyes.  “Exactly.” David replied, almost with some pride, leaning back in his chair. 

You lapse into silence for a little while, you’re not really sure how long for. It could have been ten minutes, or maybe half an hour. You only know that it is David to break the silence again.  “So... We’re both fond of each other...” He says quietly, glancing down at his hands.  “It... Seems that way, yep...” You agree, nodding somewhat awkwardly. There’s another few beats of silence, but it is more... Awkward, almost more forced than before.  “So, with that.. In mind, so to speak, would you... Like to...Go out, sometime?” He asked. It was not unusual to see David in a state of nervousness, but this was something different, this was a strain of deep anxiety that clearly ran deep, you could tell by the way he was focusing on picking the skin around his nails as his words faded away. 

“You mean like... On a date?” You ask, slightly unsure as to how he meant.  “Uh- yes. Wait, no. No, wait yes.” David stumbled over his words, quickly trying to correct and re-correct himself. “Yes... Like a date.” He clarified. “I-if you wanted to, of course. You don’t have to.” He says quickly, nervous you’ll shun him and shoo him away for his offer, for his question; your friendship damaged, your bond irreversibly shattered. 

“Calm down, David.” You soothe, giving him a small, comforting smile. He seemed to perk up a little bit at that part, taking a tad of comfort in the fact that your friendship may be recovered, despite the rather awkward outing of himself.  “I’ll go out with you... Did you have a place in mind?” You ask quietly, and his face just lights up at your question.  “Um, yes, actually... I was thinking a walk in the local park, and then maybe that restaurant I told you about the other week? It’s relatively cheap, but still looks nice...” He told you with that tiny little smile of his, that only truly showed up in the absence of the others. 

You nod, rather eagerly, in agreement. “Now that sounds real nice.” You said quietly, and he seems nothing short of overjoyed. It warmed your heart to seem him so.. Happy. So purely happy and joyous, a side to him often ushered away in the face of Law and Miller. He sits there for a moment, happily beaming away to himself, before speaking again.  “Does this... Does this mean I can call you my...” He trails off, steeling his nerves to say the entire sentence, unbroken, and without an ounce of his anxiety showing through. “Does this mean I get to call you my boyfriend?” He asked, and you start to mirror his wide and joyous smile, starting to nod at him. 

hex? a therapist, who only cares about the good of others? this is scarily up my alley.

for my vanilla followers, this is the best ive got to offer. hex would be an adorable malewife. hear me out.

lovingly kissing you all over, holding you in his arms when you come home exhausted from a long busy day. letting him simply make you melt with his hands, touching wherever he pleased, deep voice praising you along the way.

his heart is so full when he can make you feel good. if you order him around, he wouldn’t mind too much, he’s a bit too shy to tell you no. you could tell him to suck you off for hours and he’d happily get on his knees.

now, for my not-so-vanilla followers, please consider... noncon. hex being your therapist, but you don’t notice just how truly obsessed he becomes with you.

you spill out all of your issues, tears in your eyes as you recall traumatic events. hex is scribbling on a clipboard, humming and soothing you with gentle words. in reality, he engrosses himself in the idea of you. you’re a being too good for this world — too good for these low lives that you surround yourself with.

who could blame him when hex takes things into his own hands? if no one else is around, you have no choice to depend on him, right? he’ll hold you close while you watch scary movies (if you’re too scared or make a fuss, he’ll simply ignore you) like a good boyfriend would.