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Entry tags:
Fic: Fugitive of Forgiveness
Title: Fugitive of Forgiveness
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
willowaus
Pairing: Barbossa/Elizabeth, if you squint hints of Jack/Elizabeth
Rating: MA
Summary: She was many things now—outlaw, whore, pirate—but she wasn’t free.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the wonderful characters within, they all belong to Disney I believe.
AN: Many thanks toomaetoy for looking this over. This was written for sionnain for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
potcsecretsanta exchange.
She used to love the sea. It had been a vast unknown that yearned to be explored, offering her the one thing she knew she’d never truly have—Freedom. She smiled bitterly at the thought, moonlight cascading down onto her still form, casting shadows throughout the room. She was many things now—outlaw, whore, pirate—but she wasn’t free.
Tilting her head, she pursed her lips and looked up at the full moon. Will barely looked at her and when he did she saw a hint of betrayal in his eyes and wondered how he knew. The others averted their gazes from hers, though she heard their jeering words and depraved remarks. She couldn’t blame any of them—they were right—she had made herself into a common whore. Jack’s voice still mocked her, whispering Pirate over and over until she began to think she would be driven mad.
If you haven’t been already.
She stretched and pursed her lips as she looked at her hands, remembering how easily she had locked him to the mast. He hadn’t even looked betrayed, merely surprised before giving her his patented grin.
Closing her eyes, she pressed fingers to her mouth, remembering their kiss and how eager he had seemed. She’d enjoyed it, even if it was used to mask her motives, the only solution she could see to obtaining freedom—all of ours, she tried to reason with herself, but she knew it was a lie. She hadn’t been thinking of the others, only of herself and her deep need for survival.
Elizabeth pressed her lips harder, letting her teeth bite into them. Survival was what brought her to this room, to this bed. That and guilt. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, hating the eeriness of the room as she tried to drown out the sound of the waves. They didn’t lull her to sleep anymore, not like when she was a child. Now they screamed at her, whipping her into a frenzy of emotions as she heard words of betrayal shouted over and over as the water slapped against the hull.
The door creaked open and she stiffened, listening to the heavy footsteps, waiting for her damnation to begin anew. “Penance will not be found in this room,” Barbossa stated, the bed shifting under his weight. Her eyes closed in answer, waiting for the sounds of his boots falling to the floor. “Yet, you still come.”
Her focus shifted to the sound of the ocean outside the room, to the waves crashing against the hull. Temptress. Murderess. Pirate.
“Miss Swann.” Barbossa’s hands were on her, tugging her towards him. She moved easily in his grasp, refusing to acknowledge his presence. His belt connected with her flesh and she cried out. “Your fire is fading.”
She glared and grasped the belt, attempting to wrench it from his hands. “There it is.” His smile turned her stomach and she pulled harder, despising his laughter, hating even more that it made her shiver in anticipation. “You’ll be finding no hope here, girl.”
“I know.” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears and she frowned, watching him steadily.
“Let go.” His voice left no room for contradiction and she obeyed, waiting for the sting, biting her lip as the leather repeatedly stroked her skin. There would be more bruises in the morning, adding further fuel to the crews’ remarks. She welcomed the lash, biting back her cries as she counted each one silently.
He brought the belt down harder and a deep red flashed behind her eyelids as she bit down harder, knowing he was trying to break her, to force her to scream. She had yet to give him that satisfaction and refused to do so now. It wasn’t him she was trying to appease. The ship creaked and she shivered as the belt traced a path up her chest before being used to secure her hands to the makeshift rail.
She looked up, glaring defiantly at the Captain, hating the damn smirk gracing his features. It reminded her too much of Jack. “This will do you no good,” Barbossa informed her, shaking his head. “You won’t find what you seek. Not in this room.”
Her answer was a wry smile. He had yet to discover what it was she was looking for and she aimed to make sure he never knew. Hurt me, she chanted, struggling against the bonds. Make me bleed. Make me culpable for what I did. His hands were on her, grasping, nails biting into her flesh and she clenched her eyes shut, taking in the pain, making it wash over her tormented spirit in an attempt to wash her demons away.
“Pain, Miss Swann,” Barbossa breathed, fingers roughly pushing inside of her. “What if I failed to give it to you?” His touches became lighter and she looked wide-eyed at him, suddenly fearful. “What if I touched you as young Mr. Turner dreams of doing?”
No. She shook her head, tears sliding down her face. She didn’t want to feel pleasure, she needed the ache. “Slow, even strokes.” He laughed, the sound haunting to her ears, and she struggled against him, trying to bait him.
“I know what you want, why you come,” he growled, his touches light, stroking her inner thighs.
She shook her head. He doesn’t know. “You want to hurt,” he murmured into her ear, fingers sliding slowly inside of her as he pressed a kiss to her neck. She waited for him to bite down hard, like he was prone to do. She nearly cried out when he didn’t, his mouth placing hot, open mouth kisses along her collarbone instead.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to take her hard and rough, to grasp and grab, to torture her, to make her scream. It was the only thing that drowned out the damn sound of the waves.
Tears fell freely down her cheeks, hating the pleasure coursing through her body as his fingers began rubbing intimately against her. “No more pain.” His touch was maddeningly soft and she tried not to move against him, feeling herself grow wet.
He entered her slowly, his strokes languished and even. He laughed slowly as he looked down at her, caressing her stomach softly as he thrust into her.
The waves were pounding harder, their sound reverberating in her mind, pulling her closer to the brink of insanity. His steady movement reminded her of them and she nearly screamed in horror as his thrusts began to mimic the slap of them against the hull. His gaze bore into hers and she realized that he did know.
“You won’t find it here,” he grunted, tensing as he spilled himself inside of her and she cried out as he fell on top of her. He rolled off a few moments later, idly caressing her breasts. “Not anymore.”
After a few moments, he removed the belt and pushed himself off of the bed, watching her with narrowed eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. “Fight your own demons.”
She glared and grabbed her clothes, hurriedly pulling them on and walking towards the door. The monkey scurried inside as she opened it, and she scowled at the beast and his pet before leaving. She ignored those on duty and moved towards the bow. Leaning against the rail, she frowned, her gaze focused on the great expanse of ocean before her, listening to the waves murmur her curse to her.
Pirate.
Author/Artist:
willowausPairing: Barbossa/Elizabeth, if you squint hints of Jack/Elizabeth
Rating: MA
Summary: She was many things now—outlaw, whore, pirate—but she wasn’t free.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the wonderful characters within, they all belong to Disney I believe.
AN: Many thanks to
omaetoy for looking this over. This was written for sionnain for the potcsecretsanta exchange.She used to love the sea. It had been a vast unknown that yearned to be explored, offering her the one thing she knew she’d never truly have—Freedom. She smiled bitterly at the thought, moonlight cascading down onto her still form, casting shadows throughout the room. She was many things now—outlaw, whore, pirate—but she wasn’t free.
Tilting her head, she pursed her lips and looked up at the full moon. Will barely looked at her and when he did she saw a hint of betrayal in his eyes and wondered how he knew. The others averted their gazes from hers, though she heard their jeering words and depraved remarks. She couldn’t blame any of them—they were right—she had made herself into a common whore. Jack’s voice still mocked her, whispering Pirate over and over until she began to think she would be driven mad.
If you haven’t been already.
She stretched and pursed her lips as she looked at her hands, remembering how easily she had locked him to the mast. He hadn’t even looked betrayed, merely surprised before giving her his patented grin.
Closing her eyes, she pressed fingers to her mouth, remembering their kiss and how eager he had seemed. She’d enjoyed it, even if it was used to mask her motives, the only solution she could see to obtaining freedom—all of ours, she tried to reason with herself, but she knew it was a lie. She hadn’t been thinking of the others, only of herself and her deep need for survival.
Elizabeth pressed her lips harder, letting her teeth bite into them. Survival was what brought her to this room, to this bed. That and guilt. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, hating the eeriness of the room as she tried to drown out the sound of the waves. They didn’t lull her to sleep anymore, not like when she was a child. Now they screamed at her, whipping her into a frenzy of emotions as she heard words of betrayal shouted over and over as the water slapped against the hull.
The door creaked open and she stiffened, listening to the heavy footsteps, waiting for her damnation to begin anew. “Penance will not be found in this room,” Barbossa stated, the bed shifting under his weight. Her eyes closed in answer, waiting for the sounds of his boots falling to the floor. “Yet, you still come.”
Her focus shifted to the sound of the ocean outside the room, to the waves crashing against the hull. Temptress. Murderess. Pirate.
“Miss Swann.” Barbossa’s hands were on her, tugging her towards him. She moved easily in his grasp, refusing to acknowledge his presence. His belt connected with her flesh and she cried out. “Your fire is fading.”
She glared and grasped the belt, attempting to wrench it from his hands. “There it is.” His smile turned her stomach and she pulled harder, despising his laughter, hating even more that it made her shiver in anticipation. “You’ll be finding no hope here, girl.”
“I know.” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears and she frowned, watching him steadily.
“Let go.” His voice left no room for contradiction and she obeyed, waiting for the sting, biting her lip as the leather repeatedly stroked her skin. There would be more bruises in the morning, adding further fuel to the crews’ remarks. She welcomed the lash, biting back her cries as she counted each one silently.
He brought the belt down harder and a deep red flashed behind her eyelids as she bit down harder, knowing he was trying to break her, to force her to scream. She had yet to give him that satisfaction and refused to do so now. It wasn’t him she was trying to appease. The ship creaked and she shivered as the belt traced a path up her chest before being used to secure her hands to the makeshift rail.
She looked up, glaring defiantly at the Captain, hating the damn smirk gracing his features. It reminded her too much of Jack. “This will do you no good,” Barbossa informed her, shaking his head. “You won’t find what you seek. Not in this room.”
Her answer was a wry smile. He had yet to discover what it was she was looking for and she aimed to make sure he never knew. Hurt me, she chanted, struggling against the bonds. Make me bleed. Make me culpable for what I did. His hands were on her, grasping, nails biting into her flesh and she clenched her eyes shut, taking in the pain, making it wash over her tormented spirit in an attempt to wash her demons away.
“Pain, Miss Swann,” Barbossa breathed, fingers roughly pushing inside of her. “What if I failed to give it to you?” His touches became lighter and she looked wide-eyed at him, suddenly fearful. “What if I touched you as young Mr. Turner dreams of doing?”
No. She shook her head, tears sliding down her face. She didn’t want to feel pleasure, she needed the ache. “Slow, even strokes.” He laughed, the sound haunting to her ears, and she struggled against him, trying to bait him.
“I know what you want, why you come,” he growled, his touches light, stroking her inner thighs.
She shook her head. He doesn’t know. “You want to hurt,” he murmured into her ear, fingers sliding slowly inside of her as he pressed a kiss to her neck. She waited for him to bite down hard, like he was prone to do. She nearly cried out when he didn’t, his mouth placing hot, open mouth kisses along her collarbone instead.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to take her hard and rough, to grasp and grab, to torture her, to make her scream. It was the only thing that drowned out the damn sound of the waves.
Tears fell freely down her cheeks, hating the pleasure coursing through her body as his fingers began rubbing intimately against her. “No more pain.” His touch was maddeningly soft and she tried not to move against him, feeling herself grow wet.
He entered her slowly, his strokes languished and even. He laughed slowly as he looked down at her, caressing her stomach softly as he thrust into her.
The waves were pounding harder, their sound reverberating in her mind, pulling her closer to the brink of insanity. His steady movement reminded her of them and she nearly screamed in horror as his thrusts began to mimic the slap of them against the hull. His gaze bore into hers and she realized that he did know.
“You won’t find it here,” he grunted, tensing as he spilled himself inside of her and she cried out as he fell on top of her. He rolled off a few moments later, idly caressing her breasts. “Not anymore.”
After a few moments, he removed the belt and pushed himself off of the bed, watching her with narrowed eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. “Fight your own demons.”
She glared and grabbed her clothes, hurriedly pulling them on and walking towards the door. The monkey scurried inside as she opened it, and she scowled at the beast and his pet before leaving. She ignored those on duty and moved towards the bow. Leaning against the rail, she frowned, her gaze focused on the great expanse of ocean before her, listening to the waves murmur her curse to her.
Pirate.