#i can already feel myself relaxing a little bit knowing that (fingers crossed) i'm entering this stable new phase

[cw-ianthe]

i just got my first fulltime job salary and like. this is only two weeks' pay and it covers almost two months of living expenses under my current lifestyle

[oo-delallymrcrow]

Cuddle

Summary: you and the tabaxi have a nice talk and then cuddle

A/N: aw guys!! ☺️ I'm so happy that you liked Meeting Carnivàl Lecroux and wanted more! I already have a few things in the works but I got the request for one with Morning Frost and I was half way done so here it is!! I hope you like it and if anyone has any other requests please feel free to ask!

"Ah, hello, (Y/N).”

You open your eyes and see an upside down Frost as he looms over you. It was the evening and everyone was just relaxing and staying in. Kremy and Gideon in their room together. Gricko, Torbek, and Twig were playing children's games and drinking hot coco together. Hootsie was cuddle up on the couch with you when Frost entered the common room.

You stretch and yawn as Hootsie lets out a quiet hoot before jumping off the couch and heading toward her dad, stoping to rub against Frost and walking away.

Frost let put a chuckle as Hootsie rubbed against him before moving to where Hootsie was taking up the couch. He sat in the vacant spot, crossing his long legs as he does, adjusting his cloak and robe over his frame. He speaks in a monotone manner and a dry, sarcastic tone that may come off as uncaring to those who do not know his personality. Luckily, you have been getting to know Frost lately over your shared passion for knowledge and books. His yellow eyes land on you as he sits down, a neutral expression on his furry face.

"So, how are you faring, my dear? Enjoying yourself?”

You hum with a small smile on your face as you sit up, "I am. It's been nice getting to relax and just take some time for ourselves. How are you Frost? Enjoying any new books?"

Frost tilted his head back against the couch and shrugged. He crossed his arms and tapped his clawed fingers against his bicep. He seems to think for a moment before looking back at you, his ears twitch as he thinks of an answer.

"I've been working through a book of poetry, actually. Not exactly my style, but I find it quite relaxing to read to myself."

His neutral, aloof expression softens a bit more as he speaks. He is, as usual, calm and collected, but you can see small hints of emotion in his eyes and mannerisms.

You sit up a little as he mentions reading poetry and nod your head.

"I do love a bit of poetry myself. But I get how it's not everyone's style. I think you have to find the right words to really give the reader the right emotions and once it does." You put your hands up and make a little explosion noise. "Magic happens.”

Frost's eyebrows rise slightly, probably surprised by the unexpected enthusiasm in your voice. He hums and nods in agreement, his long, pointed ears twitching once again.

"Hm, perhaps that is the problem. The poetry I'm reading is rather bland and lacks that... 'oomph' you speak of."

Hiis expression became a little more amused, a slight smirk crossing his face. He crosses one leg over the other and looks at you properly.

"Maybe you have some suggestions.”

You blink in surprise but nod your head as you lean a little closer.

"Oh I think I could help. What are you wanting exactly? What are you trying to give the reader in your poetry? Happiness, sadness, maybe a little romance?”

As you lean in towards him, a smile appears on Frost's face. He leans forward a bit as well, his eyes locked on yours intently. He lets out a thoughtful sigh and hums for a moment, contemplating the question.

"I suppose I'm looking for those... feelings which are difficult to put into words. Feelings of melancholy, perhaps, but not quite. Almost as if you are missing something in your life, but can't remember what."

He pauses for a moment and lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Or maybe I'm looking too hard.”

"Naw you're just thinking too hard. Just got to say what comes to mind."

You pause and look away for a second before turning back to him and clear your throat; "here let me try a little something. Don't laugh if it doesn't sound good, alright?”

Frost tilted his head to the side, his yellow eyes studying you intently. He nods and clasps his hands together in his lap, giving you his full attention.

"Alright, I will do my best to refrain from laughing... No promises there."

His smile becomes a little more bemused, as he leans back against the couch and waits for you to begin.

"Ok maybe something like,

‘There’s a whisper in the wind tonight,

A gentle sigh I can’t quite hear,

A yearning wrapped in twilight’s light,

For something lost, yet ever near.’"

As you mutter the last words you blush and look away from Frost. You twist your hands in your lap and awkwardly chuckle as you shake my head.

"It's probably not very good but maybe something a little like that could work?”

Frost looks almost taken aback for a moment by the words you spoke. He looks at you as you look away, but notice his eyes lock on your hands as you twist and rub them together. He could tell you are nervous by the gesture and the blush on your cheek. However, he is more preoccupied on the words themselves.

You sit in silence as Frost stares intently at your hands before you laugh and hide your face in your hands.

"Oh that was bad wasn't it? Sorry I've never really written or spoke poetry before.”

Frost shakes his head and lets out a little sigh, smiling fondly.

"Nonsense, that was beautiful. You painted such a clear picture with your words, even a 'non-poetry enjoyer' such as myself could see it."

*He chuckles a litte, "I was more surprised that you spoke the words in such a... captivating manner. You really seemed to be able to convey the emotion of the words. Where did you learn to do that?”

You peek out from under your hands and shrug as you place them in your lap again. You lean back into the couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

"I don't know. I've always liked lovely words and listening to people speak or sing. I actually listen to a lot of music and just hearing the way people put there emotions in songs, is just like poetry in a way.”

Frost nods and hums as he listens to your explanation, watching you intently as you speak and stare up at the ceiling. He can most likely sense the underlying anxiety in your voice as you speak and the way your hands twitch together and occasionally rub your comfy pants.

"I see. Well, it certainly shows. Even if you have not written or spoken much poetry in the past, what little I heard makes me believe you have a very good grasp on what good poetry sounds like.”

You smile and turn your head to Frost, "thanks Frost. Maybe I'll try and take up poetry whenever we have time."

You hear loud footsteps as Gideon walks through the room, heading toward the kitchen with a yawn. He looks like he just woke up from a nap as he glances over and waves, "sup lovebirds. What are you two talking about?”

You and Frost turn heads as Gideon walks into the room. Frost glances at the back of Gideon's head as he walks towards the kitchen. He shakes his head with a sigh and refocuses on you.

"We're simply discussing poetry, Gideon. Apparently our little friend is a bit of a poet herself, as it turns out.”

"Oh," you blush and shoot a hand out to lightly tap Frosty's arm as it sounds like he's teasing. "I'm not that good. Apparently I need the right inspiration to be able to do it."

At that comment you wink at Frosty in a teasing manner, the gesture causing Frosty to break out into a bemused grin as Gideon lumbers back out with a glass of water. You chuckle as he stumbles a bit as he slumbers back to his room.

"Heading back to bed?"

"Yeah," he mumbles and waves a hand again, "no loud noises you two."

You blush at his comment and throw a pillow at his back as he laughs. Frost shifts in his seat but yells at Gideon.

"You know, you shouldn't say those things. It gives us ideas!”

You bust out laughing as you get up to grab the pillow you just threw before sitting back on the couch, a little closer to Frosty.

"What ideas does that give you?”

Frost shrugs and feigns innocence as a sly smile forms on his face. He looks over you, and places an arm behind you on the couch.

"Oh, you know. A good idea leads to another idea, which could lead to more bad ideas. Which then leads to even... more ideas. It can become a bit of a chain reaction, hm?"

He chuckles and gives you a wink, his ears flicking once again, almost teasingly this time. You giggle at his ears, flicking and nod as you try to think of what he's saying.

"So what's a good idea that leads to a bad idea? An example is what I need."

You sit up, criss-cross on the couch facing Frosty as he chuckles at your question and sits up straighter, shifting to face you. His ears remained perked and upright, listening to your words intently. He hums as he lifts his hand to his chin, tapping against it as he seems to contemplate on an answer. He smirks as he speaks, and winks at you again.

"Hmmm... How about I show you?”

Your eyes widen as your breath catches for a moment at how he speaks.

"Show me? I guess you can show me.”

Frost continues to smirk but moves forward with whatever he has planned. His eyes remain fixed on your face, watching your reactions carefully as he uncrosses his legs.

“Hmm, perfect.”

He lifts his hand and places it on the side of your face as he leans in a little as his ears twitch and his tail flicks out as he brushes his lips against yours. You shudder but lean in closer as you place a hand on his knees to stabilize yourself as Frost fully pulls you into a kiss.

It is different but feels like a beard tickling your nose with his whiskers and you giggle a little as you pull back as you scratch your nose.

“Sorry, it was tickling me.”

Frost nods as he brushes a strand of hair that fell against your cheek.

“That's alright. I know this must be different for you.”

“Oh yes,” you nod but sit up onto your knees to sit a little taller than Frost on the couch. “But it's not unpleasant.”

You lean in as one hand grips the couch next to you and strokes down his fur on his cheek, scratching his chin as Frost goes ridged at first but then melts with a sudden and loud purr erupting from his chest as he melts. As you process what you were hearing, Frost leans against you to the point of pushing you back on the couch as you continue to scratch his chin.

You huff as the tabaxi flops his weight on you but smile as First cuddles into you. You move your hand to the tip of his head and give him a little scratch which makes his ears twitch even more.

You both lay there completely relaxed and honestly at the mercy of Frost. You smile as you close your eyes and continue to pet Frost as he purrs against you.

“Are you lovebirds alright?”

You peek an eye open to see Kremy now standing in the doorway. Looking at the two of you with a raised brow but a smile on his face. Frost slightly moves but only to make himself more comfortable and wrap you up in his arms as you close your eyes with a smile and do the same to Frost. Being intertwined together makes you feel warm and cozy, ready to fall asleep again.

“Hmm, we're fine Kremy,” Frost says as he starts to purr again.

You just hear a little sigh and a snap as a blanket covers the two of you and the lights dim. You and Frost cuddled together and slipping into a cozy dream.

[bradtomlovesya]

Ⓦⓗⓔⓝ ⓣⓗⓔ ⓢⓗⓞⓦ ⓔⓝⓓⓢ Pt. 2 (final)

Warnings: Smut +18!, fingering, bad words, orgasm denied, sub!reader, Dom!Brad, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Pic: @sash_maxwell on ig.

I woke up due to the light coming through the curtains and got up totally naked to close them and let Brad continue to sleep. I knew he was very tired from the concert and from our hectic session last night.

I bent down to pick up my pantyhose lying on the floor of the room and put them on. I also took the red shirt that had started all of this in the first place and put it on just by buttoning a few buttons.

I turned my head to see Brad peacefully asleep. Today I had the day off so I tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake him up and so that he could get enough rest while I made some coffee. In the hotel room there was only a bed with a nightstand on each side, a three-seater sofa next to the balcony with a coffee table in front of it, a dining-type table and two chairs around it. On the little table next to the sofa there was a coffee machine and complimentary coffee so I decided to take advantage of it and prepare some fresh coffee for when he woke up.

I was preparing the coffee when minutes later his arms around my waist made me jump slightly with fright.

"Fuck! Bradley." I tried to catch my breath. "You scared me." I put a hand to my chest.

"I'm sorry honey." He said hoarsely and a giggle left his lips. "I didn't want to scare you." He flicked my hair to the side and placed a kiss on my neck that sent a huge electric current through my body.

I turned on my heel and wrapped my arms around his neck. "It's okay." I left a short kiss on his lips. "I woke you up?"

"No." He responded with his raspy voice and shook his head causing some of his unruly curls to fall across his forehead. "I patted next to me but you weren't there so I opened my eyes and guess what I saw?" He bit his lip with a smile. 

"What did you see?" I asked with the same smile.

He leaned close to my ear and his lips brushed my earlobe. "I saw you wearing my shirt." He kissed right at that soft spot behind my lobe and took me by the thighs and walked with me to leave me sitting on the table. "It looks so fucking good on you. I could swear the thoughts that haunt my head of the things I want to do to you right now are not healthy at all." He spread my legs, making me gasp. "Can I do the dirty things I'm thinking of doing to you?" He directed his eyes to mine and I could see that they were only his pupils. They were full of desire.

"Brad ..." I gasp. "You just woke up, how can you think about that?" I laughed slightly.

"It's your fault." He spoke seriously. "It's entirely your fault for wearing my shirt, Y/n." He crossed his arms. His expression was one of pure seriousness. "So now all I think about is fucking that cute pussy right against this table while you still have my shirt on so you think about your actions." He clicked his tongue. "However, you know that your consent is important so I need you to say yes."

I beat my eyelids over my white skin not believing what I was hearing. I felt the moisture slide back between my folds and, when I regained consciousness, I moved my lips "Yes, it is a yes, Love." I nodded quickly. My cunt throbbed to feel him inside me again.

"Good because I wasn't going to take no for an answer" He unfolded his arms and took a step towards me. "You shouldn't have worn my shirt if you weren't up for me to fuck you hard, right?" I was silent but he took my face between his fingers for me to speak. "Words, darling. That little mouth isn't just for sucking my cock. Use it to talk."

"Yes, I wanted that when you saw me with your shirt on, you wanted to fuck me" I replied in something a little louder than a murmur.

"Already knew." He released my face. "I just wanted you to accept it" he ran his index finger between my breasts until he finished on my pantyhose. "Look at that pretty face with a fucking perverted mind." He laughed hoarsely and pressed my clit a little with his finger over the fabric making me moan. "Awww, Love." He pouted. "Look how desperate you are for me to touch you."

"Bradley, please stop teasing me and playing with me." I begged. "Please just come into me." I tried to put my hands on the elastic of his boxer to lower it but he stopped me.

"Don't even think for a fucking second that this is about you and what you want." He rudely denied. "This is about me and how much I'm going to enjoy fucking you so fucking hard that all the people in this hotel will know your moans and the name of the person causing them." He put his hand under my underwear and patted my cunt. "So damn wet!" He grunted. He slipped two of his fingers into me without warning and jerked them against my walls that tightened at the feel of him. "Always so tight, my pretty little doll." He curled his fingers reaching up to my G-spot making me scream his name. "It doesn't even look like I had fuck that pretty pussy just last night."

"Brad!" I groaned loudly and threw my head back. "I'm sorry, I really ... Ah!" Another moan as he entered another finger and moved violently causing a series of obscene and delicious sounds that filled the room.

"Alright, I think that pretty vagina is ready to receive me" He pulled his fingers out and moved his finger in circles over my clit causing more moisture to flow down my pussy.

"Yes ... I'm ready" I answered between gasps with my eyes closed and tight. His finger kept moving and sending currents at my most sensitive nerve point. The brown haired boy made a little more pressure and, just as I was about to cum, he withdrew his finger from me making the feeling go away.

"You won't feel it until I decide you should." He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. "Always so sweet." He smiled grimly. "Get off the table." He ordered and so I did. "It's time to fuck that cute cunt that only belongs to me" He put his hands on my hips and turned me around. He pushed my back down so my chest was pressed against the table and lifted his shirt off my body only until my ass was exposed. "Do you know what girls get when they misbehave?" He asked me.

"Spanking?" I asked with my cheek pressed against the hard, cold surface of the table's wood. My breathing was erratic, he had already denied me a precious orgasm so I just had to be good to him for him to give me a new one.

"How smart you are, my girl" He came over and placed a kiss on my head. "That's right, spanking." He pressed his hand against the cheek of my butt with force causing a great sound of. Smack!

"You know you should not misbehave" Another spanking with more force than the previous one but on the other side. My ass right now was totally red and the feeling was burning.

And so the spankings came one after the other until they added ten and He decided that had been enough.

"Now what should you say?" He ran his palm up my butt admiring his previous work.

"Thank you Sir." I answered between gasps and wedging my nails around the edges of the table to withstand the heat. Brad got down on his knees and left several kisses on my ass cheeks to make them stop hurting a bit and it worked. "Thank you" I repeated.

"You're welcome, darling" He lowered my underwear, ran the stitch of his crotch over my folds to smear it with a bit of my moisture and seconds later he completely sank into me with one blow making me scream. "Fuck! How good you feel" his hands went to my waist to support himself. "Can I continue?" He asked me leaving a kiss on my back over the fabric of his red shirt.

"Yes, you can ..." I inhaled deeply. "You can continue." Just as I responded, I felt his hips go back and then forward to push himself fully into me, making me whimper. “Fucking hell, Brad!” I yell/moan.

His hips moved in and out of me with needed speed. I didn't think it was possible but he was moving with more force and speed every time. The table legs were grinding against the floor, but we were so caught up in our own pleasure that we didn't care. One of his hands went down until it reached my clitoris and thus began to stimulate me with enough speed and pressure to make me see stars and feel that sensation again in the lower part of my stomach. This, combined with the moans, grunts and obscenities that left Brad's mouth were driving me straight into ecstasy and he noticed it.

His dick tightened me in the only way he knew how and they stimulated all my essential points to transform all possible pain into pleasure. We fit together so well that I could feel the veins of his cock on my walls. I squeezed my vagina earning a growl from him because I knew he loved that. "Cum on my dick, darling. Come on princess" He made a little more pressure on my clit and his thrusts did not lower the force but became sloopy giving me to understand that he was about to finish too.

"Holy shit! Bradley!" I moaned his name and my legs felt like jelly. My walls closed against his member, leading him to cum inside me as well, painting my walls as his. "Ahh!" I moaned again feeling his come and his hands went to my waist to keep me from collapsing on the ground. 

"Fu-ck!" He collapsed on my back and I could feel the sweat on his forehead dampening the fabric of the shirt. "I said I would fuck you with my shirt on and I did." He laid to leave a kiss on my back and his hand went up and down my leg.

"That's right," I nodded trying to normalize my breathing. "I love this shirt" I laughed slightly and felt the vibrations of his laughter on my back. "Babe, I really love you but please get off me, that's overstimulation." I bit my lip.

"Yes, of course" He withdrew his member from inside me with a giggle. I felt myself whimper at the emptiness. "I'm sorry, I just love being there" He held me in his arms and walked with me to the bathroom. "Did I hurt you?" He left me sitting on the edge of the tub.

“No, you’re really careful even when you’re being rude to me” I took his hand and kissed his lips “Come here, let’s take a relaxing bath.” I start filling the tube.

“It would be a pleasure” He leaned to help me take off his shirt and smiled while doing it. “What the fuck do this shirt has that make us so fucking horny?” He laughed.

“I don’t know, babe” I laughed loudly. “I don’t know but let’s use it more often”

[prncesselene]

i love your kathony fics 🥺. are prompts still open? if they are then anything around that moment that is mentioned by edwina in the books - when kate says people will move on from her and anthony's *love match* gossip soon enough and edwina's like not as long as anthony looks at you the way he did at that ball, smouldering, pushing people away to get to kate. i love that because anthony is still in his denial phase but his actions are SO clearly the opposite xD

i am indeed still taking prompts! i’m working through them all ridiculously slowly, as my inactivity might indicate (lol), but i will be getting through everything that’s being sent my way, promise! :)

ao3

“There you are!”

Kate turned at the sound of her husband’s voice, her eyes widening. She hadn’t expected him to notice she’d even left the ballroom, much less follow her out. Her slowly relaxing heart took flight once more, a mixture of shame and embarrassment pooling in her chest.

They’d arrived back in London only a few nights ago, fresh off of their time in the country after the wedding. And though the time spent alone had been rejuvenating and enlightening all at once — Anthony was, in almost every way, a very attentive husband — returning to London as a bride had been a difficult adjustment. The height of the season was still upon them, and with it a number of events and social responsibilities that now asked much more of Kate than they had before.

And she wasn’t quite sure she was up to snuff, if she were being honest with herself.

Anthony crossed the hallway in three long strides and reached her side. “I turn around for just a moment and suddenly you’re gone. Practically knocked down half of the ton trying to find you.”

Kate’s chest warmed. The ballroom had been so full he would have had to have been keeping quite the close eye on her to notice something like that.

She shook her head immediately, dashing those childish, romantic notions away. He’d been very clear on where their marriage stood, and trying to paint his intentions as anything other than a gentlemanly interest in her well-being would only lead to heartbreak. She was already lucky enough, with the deal she’d been cut; asking for anything more than what Anthony could give her seemed selfish.

Once he was at her side, he tugged her elbow, gently bringing her in front of him. “Did something happen? Why did you leave the ballroom so suddenly?”

Kate began to fiddle with the buttons on his waistcoat, her eyes fixated on a string of fabric that had begun to pull from within one of them. “My, it's warm in here, isn't it? You need to take this to get fixed. I can arrange for your tailor to pass by tomorrow afternoon, if you can manage to clear your schedule. I know y–”

“Kate,” he warned, cutting off her nervous rambling, his voice more insistent. To their left, couples and families donning their finest gowns and suits entered and exited the ballroom, chatting amongst each other easily. “What’s wrong?”

She kept fiddling with the string of fabric, chewing on her lips until she was sure they would end up bleeding. Anthony’s hands came to rest atop hers, limiting her movement. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Kate sighed, gathering the strength needed for her admission. “Anthony, I don’t think I’m quite cut out for this.”

“Cut out for what?”

“Oh, you know, all of... this,” she emphasized, attempting to tug her hands away, but his grip only tightened.

“Marriage? It’s a little late for doubts like those,” he murmured.

“What?” Kate met his eyes then, surprised to find they were much more contemplative than she expected. “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just… well, I don’t really fit in, do I? I’ve never been good at the things that ladies are expected to be good at, have never managed to sit still or act demurely or... or anything like that, really and... well, now that is precisely what is expected of me.”

She paused, chewing her lip, taking her eyes off of Anthony’s to stare at the floor. “I know I’m not the kind of wife you expected. The sort that could smile prettily and charm everyone around her and be a proper viscountess.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed with concern, his stance tightening. He took her hands firmly in his and held onto them, running a thumb over her gloved knuckles. “Kate, where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

Kate swallowed, her heart beating traitorously. It seemed no matter how hard she tried to convince herself of Anthony’s objectivity within their marriage, her body refused to cooperate. The simple gesture of him listening to her so intently, with such gentleness and care, made her knees weak.

“No one is saying anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she sighed, noticing the way he relaxed once more. Her face reddened remembering Lady Whistledown’s most recent column. “In fact… well, it’s obviously a bit ridiculous, but the consensus among the gossips of society is that ours was a love match.”

“Ridiculous,” he repeated softly. Not quite a question, but not quite a statement of fact, either.

“Yes. Ridiculous,” she said, her belly swooping pitifully. “Anyways, clearly, it is not. You need not remind me of that fact. That— it’s fine. But even if they think ours looks like a love match, they must think it’s an ill fitting one. I mean, I'm hardly a catch. I talk too loud, express my opinion too plainly. I keep meeting duchesses and countesses and realizing I... I'm nothing like that, Anthony. And I worry I never will be." 

For a moment, Anthony didn’t reply, and Kate feared he agreed with her. That he, too, saw their marriage as the farce that it was. That the one with doubts was him.

But all he did he was bring her hands up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“Never speak that way of yourself again, Kate,” he said, his voice serious. “For my sake if not yours. In fact, as your husband, I demand it.”

Kate’s fingers were warm underneath the gloves where he kissed her, her eyes wide.

“I can only speak for myself, but there is absolutely nothing about you that I would wish to change. You are headstrong, passionate, and absolutely everything a proper viscountess should be, all of those other supposed virtues be damned. If someone — anyone — cannot see that, then that is their loss and theirs only." 

He tightened his grip on her hands and made sure she was looking directly at him before continuing. "When you enter rooms you command the respect of others not because you are my wife, or a Bridgerton, but because you're you. And you are more than enough.”

Kate was at a loss for words. She knew that love would never be a part of their relationship. That even if her body felt most alive when it was next to his, even if she laughed and talked with him like she had with no one else before, even if she knew she was already halfway in love with him herself — that those feelings would have to be kept under lock and key.

But then, when he said those things…. When he looked at her like that…

It was, admittedly, a little difficult not to want to wrap her arms around him and show him exactly how she felt.

Kate released her inhibitions and embraced him tightly anyways, if only so that he wouldn’t see the errant tears that threatened to slip out of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she murmured into the velvet of his coat, indulging in the comforting smell of leather and tobacco and Anthony that she’d grown to associate with warmth and belonging. That she’d grown to love, little by little. "You needn't lie to me to make me feel better, but I appreciate it all the same."

“There is nothing I’ve said that I wouldn’t happily repeat in front of all of London,” he said, the smile in his voice evident. One of his hands wrapped around her waist while the other tipped her chin towards his. “Will you obey your husband and never disparage yourself like this again? Can I trust you to do that?”

Kate’s eyes narrowed as she bit down on her own smile. She was like a slice of jelly when it came to him, pliant and willing to do whatever he said. It helped, of course, that all he was asking of her was to be kinder to herself. That he seemed to really, truly believe the words he'd said. That he saw her that way. 

“I suppose.”

He smiled and leaned down to slant his lips against hers, taking advantage of the brief lull in hallway activity. The arm around her waist tightened and brought her closer to him as his lips explored hers tenderly.

“Anthony!” she scolded, giggling against his mouth. “This is most improper. What if someone sees us?”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Anthony smiled. “The gossip about us is already scandalous. Why not add to it?”

Kate laughed but pulled away, shaking her head. As much as she loved kissing Anthony, she'd had enough scandal to last a lifetime. “I don’t think there’s any need for that.”

Straightening her ballgown and tightening her gloves once more, Kate took a deep breath. It was time to go back to the ballroom, where she would once again have to resume the act of viscountess; to pretend that she knew what she was doing, that she belonged there. With Anthony by her side, at least, it almost felt manageable.

Anthony’s smile was warm when he extended his arm out to hers. “Ready to return to the fun, Mrs. Bridgerton?”

Dash it. With him by her side it was certainly manageable. She had a growing suspicion that with him, anything was. Love matches or no. 

She slipped her arm into his, remembering his words. His faith in her.

“Ready.”

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 7

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: Thank you for all the reviews, follows and likes! It means a lot to me.

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

Two days had passed and I was still trying to process what was happening. How could my life change so drastically again? I could no longer count on my twin brother, who I considered to be my best friend, the person I trusted the most in the entire world. I was filled by the same emptiness, the same sorrow I felt when my mother died. My life was in the palm of his hands and he was letting me go.

"Relax your shoulders, love," Bela whispered softly in my ear. "You're so tense."

Bela was the only person who still made me smile in the middle of all that chaos. She was helping me to find any clues in the diaries, about Miranda and about Auryk too. But for that, we had to work really fast.

We were sneaking back in the village everyday, it wasn't safe to bring those notes to the castle where Bela's mother and sisters could easily find. I prayed the weather wouldn't change and temperatures remained high. In another case, we wouldn't be able to go to my house again and my time with Lady Dimitrescu was running out.

Meanwhile, we were also working on overcoming my intimacy issues. Being intimate without having sex yet. First, we undressed each other completely. I had to know her body and allow her to know mine. I looked at the perfection of Bela's features for a second, before I was invaded by a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. It was the first time I was seeing a woman, completely naked, in front of me.

When I looked at her again, she was gazing at my body like if she was admiring a masterpiece in an art exhibit. At first, I was shy. I blushed and crossed my arms, as if I had any reasons to hide myself. Bela smiled. In that moment I knew she was appreciating me and that made me feel better.

"You're gorgeous, aren't you?" Bela lifted up my chin, forcing me to look at her, to see it in her eyes she was being truthful on her words.

"No more than you," I gathered some courage to move forward and extend my hand, touching a little bit of her soft skin, her arms, her chest, her stomach... then I stopped.

"This is okay," she assured me. But she understood that, in that moment, it was enough for me.

We both entered the bathtub, where I positioned myself in front of Bela and allowed her to take care of me. She gently rubbed my body with a sponge, starting by my back. Then, she moved to my front, rubbing my breasts, my stomach, my tights. Though we were in silence, she seemed to understand my limits, my barriers. Noticing how stressed I looked, she decided to give me a massage. I relaxed my shoulders as she told, focusing myself completely on our moment together.

"It's my turn," I told her. "Let me take care of you?"

Bela nodded and switched positions with me. I offered her the same treatment she gave me, but I wasn't so confident, so precise. My shaking hands would often betray me and I was unsure if I was being too gentle or too rough. Yet, she seemed to be enjoying it. I gave a special attention on washing her hair, it was so beautiful, so soft. The way it barely grew on the spot around her scar was a sin. I hated Miranda even more for that.

She rested her head against my chest as I continued to massage her scalp.

"Does it hurt?" I softly traced her scar with my finger.

"It stings sometimes," she sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Does it hurt?" Bela repeated my gesture, tracing the scar on my forearm.

"No," she never asked, yet I felt I should tell her how it happened. "Adrian told me he found me in the basement cutting myself, right after my mom died. But I don't remember."

"Trauma can block some painful memories."

I knew that very well. I realized how little I remembered the days after my mother's death. My last memory was seeing her mangled body being carried inside our house. Nothing else. I didn't remember her burial or if I managed to say goodbye. I couldn't remember if we had people visiting us or if I was alone with my father. Everything about those terrible days was a blur.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Office - Present Days

When Lady Dimitrescu called her daughters for a private meeting that morning, Bela couldn't help feeling anxious and scared. Her mother was usually a woman of her word, but when it came to her reputation with Mother Miranda, she'd become completely blind by rage. Alcina really believed her when she suggested Aleena's brother could be responsible for stealing the Lords and also for the attack to the castle, even when the evidences pointed to the opposite.

"I told you so," while they waited outside, Cassandra was smirking deviously. She was determined to do anything to annoy Bela right in the morning. "It won't well for you. Our mother can't betray Mother Miranda and the other Lords because you've fallen in love with a stupid human girl."

"Shut up," Bela decided she wouldn't give in to her provocations. It was Cassandra's favorite manner to extract information from her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think we're stupid?" Still, her sister wouldn't stop. "Everyone, except for our mother, has noticed already. Me, Daniela, even Mrs. Volkov. Tell me, Bela. Will you keep pretending when we serve her on a silver plate tonight?"

Bela advanced in her sister's direction. Cassandra quickly dissolved into flies, she did the same. The corridor was a mess of flying insects and buzzing for a few minutes, before they had to shape back into their bodies. Now, she'd finally have the chance to inflict her sister some pain. She pinned Cassandra against the wall.

"Stop, you two," Daniela tried to intervene. "What the hell are you doing?"

Cassandra tried to throw a punch, but Bela was a little faster on her reflects, she grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm.

"What's your problem, Cassandra?" Bela angered. "You can't stand the idea she wasn't one of your trophy maidens, isn't it? Just leave me alone. Leave her alone too."

In that moment, they heard the door opening. Lady Dimitrescu appeared in the corridor, with an ugly snarl on her face.

"What the hell is going on here?" She yelled. "I thought I had daughters, but then I come here and you two are fighting like animals."

Daniela sighed relieved. This time, she wasn't included.

"I'm sorry, mother," Cassandra straightened her dress. "It's Bela who's being a bitch."

"You started it," Bela tried to grab her hair, but she deflected. "You're insulting me from the moment I arrived."

"The three of you! In my office, now!"

Bela couldn't feel guilty this time. Something inside her had changed. She didn't care if her mother was disappointed at her behavior, absolutely no one would touch Aleena. Especially Cassandra.

"It's all about that girl, mother," the middle sister proceeded to tell Alcina. "Bela is in love with her. They've been making out around the castle all the time."

"And this is none of your goddamn business!"

"It is, when your actions are putting us all in danger! Her brother..."

"Stop!" Lady Dimitrescu shouted, making they both go silent. "Is it going to be like this anytime a new woman steps inside this castle?"

No. Not for Bela. She didn't care about other women. Cassandra could have them if she wanted, as long as she stayed away from her girlfriend.

"I agree," Cassandra continued. "It has to end. I vote that we drain her tonight."

"CASSANDRA!" Alcina punched the desk, making her stop instantly. "I didn't call you here to talk about this girl."

A part of Bela was relieved, but she when her eyes crossed with her mother's, the feeling of anxiety started growing inside her. Now she knew about her relationship with Aleena. And her sisters too. She couldn't predict how they'd react.

"I'm going to another meeting with Mother Miranda tonight. I expect to find this castle intact when I return. If I discover my daughters are fighting in my absence, I'll be truly disappointed."

"Yes, mother," Daniela said. "No one is going to fight anymore. Right?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes at the youngest sister. Bela only gave her an annoyed look.

So that was the reason of their visit to Lady Dimitrescu's office. For now, Aleena was safe. They still had a few days to gather information about Mother Miranda and whatever she was planning. Bela was about to leave after her sisters when her mother called her back. She froze.

"Bela, you stay. We need to talk."

"Yes, mother?" She sat in front of her mother again.

"What were you and Cassandra fighting about?"

"I-I... uh, it's true. I'm in love with Aleena."

Bela decided it was time to stop lying. After all her mother was the person she trusted the most in this world, besides Aleena. Lady Dimitrescu stared at her face emotionless. Bela couldn't figure out what she could be thinking. She looked down, avoiding her mother's intense gaze.

"It's different this time," she explained. Although Alcina never bothered when they got involved with women, she hated the mess it usually caused. Sometimes Cassandra would slaughter her partners in her bedroom or some other place too hard to be cleaned. Daniela fell in love too easily, always having her heart broken when she discovered the subject of her affection was only using her to escape the castle and the fate every servant usually had. In this process, a lot of other things would break too. Such as the castle's furniture and the servant's bones. "I'm doing things right. I even asked her to be my girlfriend."

Bela wouldn't get involved with women so often as her sisters, but when she did, it surely never ended well. They'd become disappointed when they found out she didn't reciprocate their feelings. There would be a lot of arguing, tears and some of them would even dare to call her mother for a talk. In the end, they always died anyways.

She had never been in love before. Until now.

"Girlfriend?!" Lady Dimitrescu eyes widened in surprise and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Bela finally knew what what her mother should be thinking about. The woman she once loved. "Oh Bela..."

"She makes me happy, mother. Like I've never been before."

"And this is exactly what concerns me, daughter. You know how it ends."

"It doesn't have to end that way. I'm controlling my instincts very well and..."

"But she's human and young. She's going to study abroad, meet new people who are just like her. Then, she'll forget you ever existed."

That was the one thing Bela had accepted since the moment she decided to kiss Aleena. Soon, they'd be saying goodbye and there would be nothing left for her, only the memories. Yet, it was worthy. Every moment by Aleena's side was precious.

"I know that," she assured Lady Dimitrescu. "Mother, the only thing I want is your word you're letting her go by the end of this week. Whatever her brother did, Aleena's innocent."

"Okay, daughter," her mother's hand touched hers. The corners of her mouth curled up in a small smile. "I promise you. As long as you promise me you and Cassandra will stop fighting."

"Okay, I'll ignore her provocations. I promise."

"You know your sister, Bela. Cassandra is very attached to our family. She's only jealous most of your attention is being dedicated to Aleena."

"Yeah, I know."

Bela held her mother's hand and smiled back at her.

"Girlfriend..." she was still muttering to herself and shaking her head in denial as Bela stood up and started to walk away. "Well, I suppose there were worse options."

As she opened the office's door, ready to leave, Alcina spoke:

"Bela, take care."

"I will."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

I asked my breakfast to be served in my room. Going to the dining room all by myself was pointless, as Bela and her sisters were reunited with their mother in her office. I wondered what they could be discussing. Was it about me or Auryk?

Anyways, our time was running out. I only had until the end of the week to prove my brother's innocence and expose Miranda's betrayal against the Four Lords. There was only one problem, if Auryk wasn't stealing from the Lords, he wasn't involved in something good either. The manner he spoke to me on the phone, it seemed dangerous and secretive.

And there was Bela. Everytime I remembered the page I ripped off from those diaries I'd feel my chest tightening a little bit. I wouldn't let my brother, and whoever he was working for, lay a finger on her. From the moment I arrived, she was nothing but sweet to me. She always did everything to protect me and I was willing to do the same.

Mrs. Volkov entered the room, bringing a tray of food. She locked the door behind her.

"Ms. Novak, I'd like to speak to you in private for a moment," she asked.

I nodded in agreement.

"I couldn't help noticing Ms. Bela coming and leaving this room very often lately."

"Yes," now I could understand why Cassandra was always threatening the staff with her knifes. Even if Mrs. Volkov was trying to protect me, what I did inside my room was none of her business. I feared she'd tell Alcina. "We're working on a personal issue of mine. And I'd appreciate if this information stays between us only."

"My mouth is shut, Ms. Novak. I only beg you to be careful, I've seen many girls like you going missing or being dragged to the dungeons after getting involved with the mistress' daughters."

Of course she had to remind me of the fact my girlfriend probably has had enough partners to fill both sides of a book page.

"Thank you for your concern."

And of course she had to run right into 'Ms. Bela' as she opened the door to leave.

"Mrs. Volkov," she greeted, polite as she always was. Sometimes I wondered if Bela was so well mannered even when she was killing her victims. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Everything's fine, Ms. Bela. I was only serving Ms. Novak her breakfast."

"Thank you. I suppose we're good for now. I call you if we need anything else."

Bela shut the door, immediately forcing the woman to go away. I asked her to lock it, just in case.

"Good morning, love," she sat by my side at the table and pressed a kiss on my cheek. "I hope you saved me some because I'm starving."

"Hey, didn't you just have breakfast with your mom?"

"Not actually, I refused it. I was waiting to have breakfast with you, like we do every morning."

She smiled, causing butterflies in my stomach.

"Aren't you sweet?" I was kinda expecting her to come. I even asked Mrs. Volkov for an extra cup and plate. I passed it to Bela. "I was hoping you'd come."

I retributed her kiss.

"So, what are doing today?" She wanted to know. "Are we coming back to your house? Or would you like to do something different?"

"I wish, but we have to finish reading the diaries. I only have a few days left before your mom decides what she wants to do to me."

"I spoke to her. She's letting you go by the end of the week."

"Is she?" I asked, to be sure.

Bela nodded in response.

I should be happy with the information, Lady Dimitrescu wasn't going to kill me after all. But I wasn't. I was expecting her to protest and keep me as a prisoner for weeks, months, maybe years as it seemed Auryk wasn't coming back. I wanted to be stuck in that castle for the rest of my life, as long as I had Bela by my side.

"She has a meeting with Mother Miranda tonight," she added. "She usually doesn't come back until the morning. We should do something special."

"Like what?"

"Like a date?"

The concept of having a date was a little bit difficult when you lived in a village that wasn't even in the maps Your options were very limited: going to the nearest town, going to the pub or do something at home. The first two options could not end well as we'd be going too far from the castle or if any villagers recognized Bela.

We could stay in my house and order some food, there was this restaurant in town that would deliver even in that hellhole of a place. We could also watch movies and make out on the couch.

Maybe more. I was desperate for more. Especially now I knew we'd be separated soon. I wanted to enjoy every second of your moments together. Yet, I was insecure. I couldn't help thinking of Mrs. Volkov comment regarding Bela's level of experience.

"I think I have something in mind," I grabbed Bela's hand. "Ready?"

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's House - Present Days

We rod to the village as were doing every day. I was always concerned some other villager could see me and recognize me. At this point, everybody should know about what happened to me. They'd instantly connect the dots if they saw Bela. When we arrived to my house again, I was relieved. Almost. Until I saw the front door had been forced open.

"Oh fuck," I quickly took my daggers before taking another step into the house. "Somebody broke into my house. They may still be in there."

Bela took some kind of blade from her boots too.

"What? I have my tricks too, love." She asked, noticing I was surprised. "Cassandra isn't the only good hunter."

We carefully opened the door. Before I could even do anything, Bela grabbed me and covered my mouth. Her senses were probably detecting something nearby.

"Shhhh," she pointed to her ears. "I can hear something... in the basement."

"But not all of us are vampires," I muttered. When I noticed, Bela had already vanished, turning into flies. I followed her to the basement, after grabbing a rifle. Before I even got there, I already heard a male voice screaming.

"What the fuck?! What are you freaks even doing here?!"

I recognized it before I could even see the figure. But I waited until I was downstairs to confront him.

"Heisenberg. I could ask you the same," I spoke, pointing the rifle at him even if I knew it was useless. "What are you doing here?"

"You," he turned around from the hidden cabinet where the weapons were stored. "Weren't you trapped at Lady Super Sized Bitch's castle?"

"Have some respect talking about my mother," Bela shaped back into her body. "Not that she has any talking about you. So I guess you both are even."

"Oh great, and you brought one of the daughters with you. At least it's the decent one."

"Are you going to explain what you're doing in my house?" I angered. There was a good reason of why that man was there again. Coincidentally when he had a meeting with Miranda later that day. "Let me guess. You're searching for something to take to the Highest Bitch In Charge tonight. Am I right?"

"Wait, wait..." Heisenberg showed his hand as a sign of truce. I lowered the rifle. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Are you searching for something to take to Mother Miranda in the meeting tonight? Because many things are going missing, under mysterious circumstances that are strangely connected to her."

"Do you think Mother Miranda is the one stealing from the Lords?"

I told him about my conversation with Auryk and his suspicions about Miranda's involvement in the situation.

"I knew it!" Heisenberg kicked away an old wooden chair, shattering it to pieces. I shot Bela a confused glance but she also had no idea of what was going on. "I fucking knew it! She's been plotting against us. I always warned my siblings this day would come but they never believed me."

"We're searching for evidence against her," I explained. "To find out what's her plan. Do you have any ideas?"

"Are you sure you can trust her?" He pointed at Bela. "Her mother is the one who kisses Miranda's ass the most. After Moreau, of course."

"Absolutely," I told. "Bela's with me on the matter."

"Sit down, the two of you, and I'll tell you what I know."

We sat on the armchairs we had down the basement. Heisenberg pulled a bottle of whiskey from one of Adrian's secret hideouts. He was about to take a sip directly from the bottle, but I made him serve all of us. Something told me I'd need alcohol to deal with that conversation.

"All these years serving her and we're only her tests subjects, girl. We were all declared a failure upon bitch Miranda's eyes. Me, Lady Super Sized Bitch, the Moronic Freak, the Ugly-Ass Psycho Doll and even this..." Bela scowled at him, letting him know she wouldn't appreciate any offensive nicknames he could have for her, "this girl and her sisters. We're trapped in this village, being forced to decades of humiliation and servitude."

"Are you telling me you don't worship Miranda like your siblings and the villagers?" I tried to understand.

"No!" Heisenberg shouted. "Can't you see? She has taken everything from me. My humanity, my dignity! And now she has found the perfect vessel for her experiments, she's planning to get rid of us."

I drank the entire cup of whiskey in one sip. I looked at Bela, I could see that deep down she shared the same feelings for Miranda as Heisenberg. She tried to follow me, but judging by her face, she wasn't used to that kind of drink.

"I know what it feels like," she took off her helmet, showing the scar on her head and also the tattoo. "I also hate how she treats my mother and she's always too blind to see it. Whenever she returns from a meeting, I can read it on her face. She's disappointed at herself. She's miserable. She's always feeling she isn't enough for Mother Miranda's purposes."

"Fuck! This is what I'm talking about! Look what she's done to you. Don't you think it's time we end this?"

"Okay," I interrupted their moment of mutual pain. "She really fucked up with you guys, so we need to find a manner to stop whatever she's planning."

"Your father," Heisenberg pointed to me. "That bastard also shared my feelings of revenge and hate against that bitch, but for some reason he never accepted to join forces. I knew he had some diaries that contained some important information, do you happen to know where they are?"

Before I could answer, Bela stepped in and spoke for me.

"This is what we've been searching for," she lied. She looked at me, giving me a signal we shouldn't trust Heisenberg completely yet. "Apparently, Aleena's brother has taken it with him."

"And where's the little criminal?"

"I don't know," I said. "Last time we spoke he was acting shady as fuck. Whatever he's involved with, it's not good."

"Hmmm, drugs probably."

"No! I'm pretty sure my brother isn't... what's a vessel, by the way? You said Miranda has found a perfect one for her experiments."

"A person who can achieve a perfect mutation," it was Bela who answered my question. "One without any flaws, any side effects. Unlike me, the Lords or any person that has turned into a Lycan."

"Exactly," Heisenberg added. "One with a body that will be able to revive her daughter."

"What the fuck..." I always knew Miranda was crazy, but not at that point. All those years, she had been misleading the villagers, the Lords only for her personal uses. "And who's this person? Where are they?"

"I don't know, kid. This is what I'm trying to find. If I destroy the vessel, there will be no ritual. And with the right proof in hands I can lead a rebellion against Miranda."

"You can count on me," I extended my hand to Heisenberg. "If I discover anything, I let you know."

"Smart girl," he shook my hand. "You'll have my full support if you need to escape that demonic castle."

"She doesn't!" Bela angered. "Mother is letting her go."

"Okay. If you need anything else then..." Heisenberg shrugged. Then he looked at Bela. "What about you, little Dimitrescu girl? Can we count on you?"

"Of course," she also extended her hand. "But you can't comment a word about this meeting with my mother tonight. She trusts Miranda above anything, she's going to blow up our plans."

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's Bedroom - Present Days

While Aleena was taking a shower, Bela caught herself reading the diaries they found. Such a skilled predator should be proud of her achievements. The reports about her family were gruesome, terrifying, tragic. They were called many things, 'witches', 'monsters', 'abominations'...

"Psychotic bitches," definitely the most creative, a name given by Adrian Novak. Bela never had a personal encounter with Aleena's father, but she had definitely heard nasty stories about him, through Lady Dimitrescu and through Aleena herself. She thought of an appropriate nickname for him too and smirked. "Stupid manthing."

She closed the diary and walked to the mirror. Aleena told her to wear one of her clothes. She looked like a normal girl, one of Aleena's age, maybe two or three years older.

If it wasn't for that scar. That damn scar. When she woke up after the transformation, one of the first things she did was asking her mother how she had gotten it. Was it the reason she died? Later, she found out it was the reason why she was still alive. Something had been implanted in her brain, to transform her into... that. What about that tattoo? Young people had tattoos everywhere but certainly not on their foreheads. She was marked as one of the Dimitrescu daughters. Wherever she went, people would recognize her by that. Especially in the village. Countless times she and her sisters had caused panic among those people.

This was why Aleena couldn't take her out for a date. She couldn't take her to the pub, to meet her friends and do other things couples usually did. Bela clenched her fists in rage and frustration.

"Hey," Aleena left the bathroom, wrapped around a towel. "Sorry for taking so long. You look amazing, by the way."

Before heading to her wardrobe, she passed through Bela and planted a small kiss on her lips. She could live like that forever.

In fact, if the weather suddenly changed and the temperature dropped by the next day, she'd be stuck with Aleena in that house for days, months or even years. She could cook and clean the house while she was out for work. She could even find a manner to earn some money herself. She could be an artist and sell paintings. Or maybe a writer, she was a good one. Maybe she even had money already, after all she was the Countess' eldest daughter.

The idea excited Bela a lot... until she looked at Aleena's desk. If she was stuck in that house with her, she'd be giving up on her dreams of living in California and study in that Art Institute. And Aleena deserved that. More than any person she ever met.

It wouldn't last and she knew it. She always knew it.

"Selfish psychotic bitch," she muttered to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's Living Room - Present Days

I couldn't take my mind off my conversation with Heisenberg. I didn't even know how I was supposed to feel. I already hated Miranda before, but now I got the confirmation of the things Bela told me. She was nothing more than an experiment gone wrong and that woman was about to get rid of her and the others. I also thought about Alcina and Donna, who had no idea of what she was planning and trusted her blindly.

I also wondered, who was her perfect vessel? Was it someone from the village? Was it someone she had kidnapped? A million questions were going through my mind.

As soon as I finished getting dressed, Bela had sunk into one of her bad moods, where she became quiet and introspective, after acting normal all day. I already knew her enough to know something happened while I was in the shower and it was consuming her inside. Because as her own mother described, Bela felt everything very intensely.

"Would you like to go back to the castle?" We were in the living room, waiting for our dinner to be delivered. "We can go after dinner if you want."

"No," she said. I had turned on Auryk's video game console. Bela was quite curious about the game I was playing. Her eyes moved quickly as she observed every detail on the screen. "Not yet."

"Do you need to feed?"

"No, I'm okay."

I paused the game. Whatever happened, nothing seemed to distract Bela from it. She was quiet as in the morning she fought her mom or that night in her bedroom, before we kissed for the first time.

"Okay... why don't you tell me what happened? I left you alone in my room for some minutes and now you're upset."

Bela took a deep breath, as if she was trying to recompose herself and leave her emotions aside for the night.

"I'm not upset, love," she told me. "I'm focused."

"On what?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"If you don't move to the left side, like this," Bela took the controller from my hands, unpausing the game and making a move herself. "You're going to get yourself killed."

And she was right. Apparently her vampire senses worked for literally anything.

"Know what?" I turned off the console. "I'm done with this for the night. I already know I wouldn't be able to beat you if we played against each other anyways."

"What a sore loser," Bela finally let out a laugh. Mission accomplished, I was able to get her out of her bad mood.

"We'll see about that later."

"Will we?"

She lay on top of me, staring deeply into my eyes in an attempt to look dangerous. She pressed her lips against mine and I wrapped my arms around her body pulling her as closer as possible. Bela deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue inside my mouth. The way her tongue massaged mine, the way our bodies were moving together, the way my hands were exploring every inch of her perfect body... I was feeling things I had never experienced before. A heat that spread through every part of me. She finished her kiss biting my lower lip, leaving me stunned, breathless.

"I'm sorry, I got too carried away," she said, when we stopped. "We're almost setting ourselves on fire here."

"No, I want more," as I gazed into her beautiful golden yellow eyes, I couldn't be more sure. "I want us to burn."

Bela raised one eyebrow suggestively, as if she was trying to confirm what I had just told her. I let out a small laugh and nodded in confirmation.

"Then..." she pressed another kiss on my lips, "we should head back to your bedroom. Don't you think?"

I was about to give her an answer when the door bell rang. It was the delivery service bringing our dinner.

"Fuck, I had totally forgotten," I took a deep breath, trying to recompose myself.

"We can resume from where stopped later, if you want."

----------

I wanted it. I definitely wanted it, but I was too nervous for my own sake. If I didn't calm down, I'd end up ruining things. I remembered the night I invited a girl I was dating to my house. Even after having a lot of alcohol to calm my nerves and get me in the mood, I panicked. I panicked and locked myself in the bathroom until she went away. Needless to say she never wanted to see me again.

To try to distract myself, after dinner I sat down on my desk, reading carefully a page of the diary in front of me. The calligraphy was barely readable. Apparently that one belonged to my grandfather, Erik Novak, during his teenage years.

"March 13, 1962

The Lycan attacks have intensified during these days. It's almost impossible to even leave the house. My poor sister, Astrid, has been attacked while she was outside tending for the animals. We don't expect her to survive. The infection has spread to her whole body. Father suggested we put an end to her misery. Mother is still hoping for a miracle. We called Mother Miranda for guidance."

I felt a shiver going down my spine. It was almost like I could watch that scene playing in my mind, like a movie. I held the picture of Astrid, her beautiful dark hair and soft facial features. Such a terrible fate she was victim of. Why did my family still insisted on living in that goddamn place for generations after such a tragedy?

"Okay, I finally picked one," Bela emerged in my bedroom. She was in the living room, too amazed by my Netflix account. With so many movie options in front of her, she didn't know where to start. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I closed the diary. "I was just reading an entry while you chose. My grandfather's sister, she was bitten by a Lycan."

"It seems to happen quite often in your family. One of the diaries I read also reported a Lycan attack."

"It's like a family curse. In my generation, it was my mom. But in her case, there was not even time to develop an infection."

Family drama. Nothing related to the clues we were searching for. I decided to not think about anything else related to that village, Auryk or even Miranda for the next few hours. I wanted to enjoy my time with Bela, exclusively.

"So, let's see what you chose, Ms. Dimitrescu."

For my surprise, Bela had picked a Disney movie. I thought it was extremely cute, I was kinda expecting her to choose something classical or even an horror movie.

"Do you like this one?" She asked.

"I love it," I wrapped an arm around her shoulders as we sat down on the couch. "And I'll love it even more now it's the first movie we watch together."

I didn't make any interruptions as we watched the movie. Bela seemed so entertained, so genuinely happy. I remembered she probably had never seen a movie before. I didn't see any TVs inside the castle. If they even had one, they didn't have access to Netflix or any other modern features. I simply enjoyed the sensation of having her in my arms or the sensation of caressing her hair. I learned to appreciate the sound of her laugh more than anything in this world. When we met, I'd rarely hear it and now it was something she did often.

The world was easier when we were alone, just the two of us. Two lonely, misfit and traumatized individuals. Bela seemed to be the only person who understood my feelings, and I was this person for her too.

When the first movie ended, I asked if she wanted to see another one. She told me to choose this time and I picked a romance. With a happy ending.

God, we deserved to have a happy ending too. We both had gone through so much already. I had to stop Miranda. I couldn't let her take Bela from me.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's Bedroom - Present Days

It was already two in the morning when we returned to my bedroom.

"Are you sure your mother isn't going to freak out or anything?" I asked as we prepared the bed. "Cassandra is definitely going to tell her. If she gets mad the claws will come out to play and it's kinda scary."

"As long as the dragon remains inside, we're okay," the corners of Bela's mouth curled up in a smile.

"Dragon?!"

"Nevermind, it's a joke. A myth the villagers invented. Don't worry, I don't think she's going to mind. I told her about us this morning and she took it very well."

"This is quite a surprise."

We lay on the bed and my heart started thundering inside my chest. I wasn't sure if she remembered what we started before dinner and that I had intentions of resuming later.

"I wish we could have this everyday," she spoke softly, when we were face to face. "This is the reason why I was upset."

"Why does it upsets you?" I asked.

"While I was here alone, I kinda wished the temperature would drop and I'd be stuck here with you for a while. Then I realized I was being selfish."

"You're not selfish. To be honest, I kinda wished the same. I don't wanna go away. I want to stay with you, forever."

Bela took my hand, holding it very tightly for a few seconds and then, she released.

"You can't, Aleena. You don't deserve this life, in this place. You deserve more. You deserve to go after your dreams, move to California, go to college, be with a girl that actually deserves you."

"I don't want another girl, Bela. I want you. I want you the way you are, with your virtues and also your flaws. That's what made me fall in love with you."

I'd usually let her take the lead, but this time I kissed her, hard and desperate. I didn't want to think about the idea of being away from her. Or being with somebody else. Even if we couldn't be outside most of the time. Even if I had to work on the pub for the rest of my life. Even if she needed to drink human blood. I didn't mind if my friends or my brother never accepted my relationship with her. In that moment, I had everything I ever wanted and I wouldn't waste it. I couldn't wish for anything else.

When I realized, I felt her hand going down my shirt, caressing my stomach.

"Do you still want to do this?" She asked.

"More than anything."

I knew Bela had probably done that a thousand times before, but I wondered if she was always so tender, so careful. She knew that was an important moment to me, I was letting down the last of my emotional barriers for her, so she acted cautiously on every move she made next.

First, she kissed me again for a very long time. I assumed she was giving me enough time to think if I was truly prepared. Then, her mouth placed a trail of kisses for all the way down to my neck.

We undressed each other, Bela lay on top of me and as she kissed me again, I couldn't stop thinking how good it was the feeling of having her naked body so close to mine. This time, I felt confident enough to explore parts of her I wasn't prepared the last time.

"What?" I asked when we parted and she gazed deeply into my eyes. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"I have something to confess, love," she opened a beautiful smile. "I'm a little nervous too."

"Come on. Mrs. Volkov was scolding me this morning, telling me I was only one of the many women she saw leaving your bedroom."

"Yes, but it's the first time I do it with a woman I'm in love with."

It was my turn to smile. With my hand on her chest, I sensed how quick her heart was beating too.

"Well," I whispered seductively in her ear, "she's very in love with you too. So you don't have to be nervous."

"Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

I nodded in agreement and pulled her face for another kiss. As Bela's hands traveled through my body, caressing my inner tights, I was shivering in anticipation. By the time she touched me where I wanted her the most, my first reaction was to shudder.

"How does that feel?" She wanted to know. "Do you like it, love?"

"Yes!" I threw my head back as her fingers continued to stroke my center. "Oh my god, yes. Please don't stop."

"I don't plan to. We're only getting started."

I was still nervous. I didn't know how I was supposed to act. Should I do something to please her too? Should I be silent? Because I was fighting so hard against the wild impulses inside of me, that wanted to moan and scream Bela's name as loud as I could. I buried my mouth on her collarbone trying to muffle a moan.

"This is okay," she stopped for a second, looking at me with those gorgeous eyes. "Just relax. You're being perfect."

I simply nodded in agreement. I just wanted her to continue what she was doing, but she had other plans in mind...

"What about now?" Bela inserted one finger inside me and started to move, slow and gentle. "Does it hurt?"

"N-No... this feels great..." I could barely form a coherent sentence anymore. In fact, I noticed I had stopped breathing. Yes, I could die right now and I'd die a happy woman. Was that what my father was trying to protect me from with his sick ritual? I couldn't be more happier to have broken his rules. I couldn't be more happier I waited and did exactly I was told to stay away from.

My heart was racing really fast. I felt all my muscles were starting to become tense. Bela inserted another finger inside me, moving a little bit faster and harder, but still making sure she wasn't causing me any pain.

And in that moment, I completely lost myself. My back arched and my whole body started to tremble under her body. Bela held me tightly. I relaxed too, wrapping my arms around her.

"Are you okay, love?"

"More than okay," I answered between pants. "To be honest, I think I've never felt so great before."

"Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"Yes, you can now show me how I can please you."

We switched positions and Bela guided my hand as I tried to follow the same path as she did. She also rocked her hips to meet my rhythm. I wasn't so confident as she was. I was afraid I could do anything that could hurt her. But she was a patient teacher and I was a quick learner. Soon, she was already trembling in my arms too and I knew I had done it right.

I thought we were done with the best part, but I was wrong. After pressing one final kiss on my lips, Bela rested her head on my chest and said words I'd never forget.

"I love you."

[twinkleallnight]

A Twisted Tale

Chapter 2

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 2334

Characters: Liam, Drake, Riley, Olivia.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: mention of death.

A/N: I m We are participating in @wackydrabbles prompt: "That makes my {body part} tingle." that appears in bold.

Catch up here

An AU of The Royal Romance paving it's way through mixed emotions of wants, needs and desires, of revenge and regrets, of trust, faith and hope.

A joint venture brought to you with love by @twinkleallnight and @annekebbphotography

Liam’s POV

Riley looks at me with concern and all I can do is shake my head, I didn’t want to get into it right now. All I wanted to do was talk to Olivia and she didn’t even give me a chance to say anything, just assumed she knew what I was doing.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask as we walk towards the jet.

Riley beams at me, I have never seen blue eyes sparkle like that. “More than ready. I am so excited.” She giggles as she walks towards the steps. I let her go first and damn, she is making it hard for me. She’s wearing a tight blue jean with a pink flowing shirt, but her ass is on display as she climbs the steps of the jet. I know it’s wrong, I am in love with someone else, but damn she’s beautiful and can I mention that she is making my pants pretty uncomfortable.

I shake my head to get the thoughts out of my mind, I need to focus. All I need is to get back to Cordonia and see Olivia. Then all of this will be over and I will be back to normal. Riley will only be working for me and probably become my friend.

The flight back to Cordonia is spent with me explaining to Riley how things work in Cordonia. I tell her about the ins and outs of the royal council and how to address each of the court members. She impressed me with knowing most of the things I was teaching her. I believe that she will do well in the Palace. She will obviously be my right hand, and she will have to attend functions and meetings with me, until I finally find my Queen. No wait, scratch that. Until I get married to my Queen. I just need her to fall in love with me.

The pilot lets us know that we will be landing. “Look out of the window.” I motion to the window next to Riley and I can’t help admire the happiness and excitement on her face.

“Wow, It’s really something else.” She says, a little too excited.

*****************

After getting checked by security and getting the all clear, Riley and I make our way to the palace. Seeing the excitement in Riley’s eyes makes me see the place and the country in a different light. I have been here all my life and love my country, but I think I might have taken it for granted.

“Is this where I will be staying?” She points to the palace and I can’t help but smile.

“Yes, you will have your own room. Normally we will put you in the guest rooms, but I want you close to my wing. You will not be alone. My best friend, Drake Walker also stays in the wing you will be staying in.” I nod to Bastien as he pulls up in front of the palace.

“I can’t wait to start work. It might be weird, but I want to learn as much as possible.”

Bastien opens my door before I could say anything else. As I get out I see Olivia coming down the front step of the Palace. This is even more bad timing.

Olivia crosses the distance between us in a few swift steps. She curtsies in front of me dramatically, "Welcome back home, your majesty." I can feel the bite in her tone.

"It's good to be back Duchess." I smirk, as I take her hand and kiss the back of it. My eyes never leave hers. That is until she breaks my gaze and looks over my shoulder. I turn around to see that Riley has just stepped out of the car.

"Since when did you start bringing your dinner home?" I don't know if it's her regular snarky comment or is she jealous.

"Since it's too good to leave behind!" I say with a grin on my face. Lets see how far this can go.

She sneers at me and almost looks like she is going to attack me when Bastien interferes. "Can we take this inside, Duchess."

Olivia glares at Bastien. She turns around and storms back inside without saying anything.

I turn towards Riley. She is a bit flabbergasted at what just happened. "That's Duchess Olivia Nevrakis of Lythikos for you." I offer her my arm. "Shall I show you to your room." She links her arm with mine and I can't help but smile at the jolt of electricity I feel when she touches me. Her cheeks turn a soft pink when her hand touches my arm.

As I am walking her in, I pass through the corridors and see Olivia sneaking into my study. I am a little nervous now thinking of what lies ahead. Upsetting the woman I love is not my style.

I try to be quick with Riley hoping she doesn't catch the hints of my nervousness.

"Please make yourself at home. Bastien here can help you if you need anything. I have some pending office work to complete. We can start with your job profile tomorrow."

Having said that, I quickly turn on my heels and stride down to my study. I enter and see Olivia standing with a wine glass. Her devilish smile welcomes me in. "Dinner was not to your taste? You left the party so soon?"

"I have my dinner preparing for me. I plan to make it breakfast and lunch as well. Maybe a reading snack in the library could work for me." I know I am digging my own grave. But I love bickering with her.

"Cut it out Liam." She snarls at me. "We both know your appetite well."

"Then don't make assumptions, when you do not know the whole story." I walk over to my desk and take a seat. "Now, we have matters to discuss. Please take a seat" I motion to the seat in front of my desk.

With a huff and a puff, Olivia gives in and sits in the chair across my table. I can still feel her restlessness. When she cannot contain it anymore she finally asks. "Who is she?"

I smirk as I lean back into my chair resting my hands behind my back. "She is my new personal assistant. We will be working closely together." I throw it out there. I need a sign that this is affecting her.

"Okay. Just a personal assistant." She reverberates. She fans it out, sipping her wine. As the warm liquid passes down her throat she relaxes. "What did you want to discuss?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Also I would like you to take Riley shopping. She would need appropriate clothes to wear to the office."

Not that I mind the clothes she's wearing, but selfishly I don't want the other men to look at her like that.

"If you are forgetting, I am a Duchess. Not staff at your palace. Why would I spend my precious time on a girl you randomly picked up from the streets of America. I give a damn at how she dresses. That's her problem if she doesn't have the basic training or dressing sense."

She then adds. "Ask Drake to do that. He knows better how to deal with Street hawkers, from where he comes."

"She is not just some random girl. I am asking you, because I want you to give her a chance. She's best qualified for this job. If you don't want to do it, I will do it myself. I don't mind spending time with her."

"For god's sake Liam! What's wrong with you? You are a king, not a teenage boy following a girl, holding her bags. You won't go shopping with her." She orders with authority. She loves me. She won't say it but she does. She tries to show she owns me. That makes my heart tingle. How can I resist her? I don't want to. I want to hold her tight at this moment and tell her how much I love her and I will do as she demands. But I resist the urge and continue defending my case.

"It is because I am the king that I can do this. I asked you and you said no, so now I will take her. Isn't that what you wanted. To have someone else take her?" I raise my brow at Olivia. I will get her to love me or at least admit that she loves me.

" I want someone else to take her because I want you to be with me at Lythikos. I have some things to discuss for the duchy."

It is not easy to bend her. She has her ways. She again found a reason to ignore my advances.

" Okay. I will come with you." I get up and move across the table. I take her hand in my hand. Her skin is soft against my touch. " If you promise that we will have dinner after work."

Her green eyes pierce at me.

"Fine." She says and slips out her hand to stand straight. "See you in an hour. You can accompany me on the drive to Lythikos."

She walks down to the door and turns before leaving. " I will ask Drake to help your damsel in distress"

"NO..." I stop and take a deep breath. "Fine, ask Drake to go with her."

***********

Olivia's POV

I walk out of Liam's study with a staid mind. This was not how I had expected things to progress. I have already started hating this American girl. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and start walking to the stables in search of Drake. He spots me first.

"Hey red hood!" He calls out from the booth where he is tending a horse.

"Hi Wolfie." I walk over to him.

"What's up?"

"Job for you." I wait to gain his full attention.

" At your service madam. Name it." He washes his hands and carelessly rubs them over his apron. He discards the apron to show off his chiselled chest. He has a habit of being ruthless about how his supermodel body has an effect on anyone around him. He pulls in a white cotton shirt but doesn't bother buttoning it up, leaving his rippled abdomen open for view. Had he not been a commoner, I would have let my fingers roam over his rugged body. I'm lost in drooling over his killer looks when, as if he has read my mind, he speaks.

"You were 25 inches up."

I turn pink on that comment and take my eyes off from his abs, 25inches up, to his brown eyes. I clear my throat.

"Liam has got some American girl with him. Says she is going to be his personal assistant and want you to take her shopping for her formal wear."

"And why would he send the message through none other than the Duchess?"

"Because I suggested it. He wanted me to do that, but I have some work at the duchy, and I am taking Liam along. That leaves only you available."

" So, you are trying to whisk away the king from the girl."

"No, I am not." I say firmly.

Drake ignores my comment and continues," But if she is going to be his personal assistant, you may have to up your game."

"There is no game being played here. Just do the damn shopping with her." My voice raises in frustration.

"Okay, okay. Will do it."

" Bastein will take you to her. See ya later." Before he can throw more questions, I spin and walk away.

After an hour, I am travelling alone in my car. Liam excused himself for some security check reasons, saying he will be there in another hour. I know he is taking his time luring his new found fascination in that girl. I feel my blood boiling at the thought of them together. I make a few necessary calls and wait for the road to end.

Seething in the same anger I stomp through the Chateau to my room. When I am inside I find aunt Lucretia waiting there for me.

She welcomes me with her crooked smile. "So how is my favourite niece doing?"

"Your only niece." I throw my purse callously on the bed and sprawl on it. I am staring at the ceiling trying to assess the situation.

She sits at the edge of the bed and moves her fingers lovingly through my loose hair.

"What is troubling you my darling?"

"I think I stretched it a bit too long."

"Stretched what?"

"Ignoring Liam's feelings. Now he seems to have got some seductress from his UN conference and is following her like a puppy all around."

"Oh dear, these girls come and go in the lives of nobles. Let him loiter around. He is a king and when it comes to choosing a queen, he will not look for some common girl. He will only have his eyes for you."

"I don't want to take this lightly." I prop up on the bed. "He is coming to Lythikos. He insisted on a dinner date with me. I am going for it."

"I think you are overreacting."

" Aunt Lucretia, I had that guy entwined around my little finger all these years. And today he got the guts to get some commoner and throw her into my face? I am no longer leaving it for chance. I am going to make him bend on his knees, and when he does that, I am going to gladly accept it."

I get back on my toes and proudly announce. "Once I become the queen of Cordonia, I will take the reins in my hands. The Nevrakis blood will rule Cordonia. The dream my parents had, will come true. And so will my revenge for their death!"

Tags: @ao719 @anjanettexcordonia @bascmve01 @bebepac @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @cordonia-gothqueen @drakewalker04 @eadanga @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @krsnlove @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog @indiacater @jessiembruno @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @khoicesbyk @shewillreadyou @lisha1valecha @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @princessleac1 @ritachacha @secretaryunpaid @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @txemrn @queenrileyrose @briefdreamlanddream @sfb123 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @aestheticartsx @yourmajesty09 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @drakewalkerfantasy @els31 @rainbowsinthestorm @darley1101 @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @rafasgirl23415 @anotherbeingsworld @callmeellabella @msjr0119 @walker7519 @ofpixelsandscribbles @cocomaxley @lodberg @jared2612 @gnatbrain @cmestrella @queenjilian @iaminlovewithtrr @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

[ethanharli]

Requested: Nah.

Pairing(s): Asra x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): Some Angst, Flashbacks, Mentions of heartbreak, Sudden confession, Cliffhanger, Long, Sister Nadia.

A/n- I brought this over from my Wattpad, and I edited it a bit but this is the longest One-Shot I've ever made, just fifty words away from three thousand :")).

_______________

A frustrated groan slipped past my lips as I fumbled with the sleeves of my costume, it may sound silly but its true. I refuse to wear anything that could reveal my torso, besides my face of course but that's only because its not covered in ink. Now don't get me wrong, the art adoring my body is nothing but beautiful, yet some of its a bit much for the public eye, and I hate attention. Guess Muriel and I are the same in that regard. After adjusting the sleeves I slipped on my rings and emerald necklace that clung tightly around my throat, which didn't bother me in the slightest bit as I drag my pierced tongue over my bottom lip. Finishing up with a few things I quickly locked up my house and headed on my way to the palace, Nadia had invited me over for the Masquerade this year since the last one ended with Lucio and the Devil trying to take over.

I really have to admire that apprentice, their magic is quiet fascinating. With a small smirk I slipped on my wolfs mask, nothing original but the black and vibrant neon of purple and green helping it stand out, even if only by the slightest. The journey to the palace was quite fun, watching people light up fireworks and drink to their hearts content without a worry in the world. Yet it was a whole new world once I entered the palace gates, making my way towards the ball room in hopes to run into my sister, but Nadia is nowhere to be found. "Should've expected as much, she is the Countess after all" I muttered with a proud smile, if only my familiar where here to keep me company but sadly having a grey wolf in this crowd isn't such a good idea, poor thing would be trampled despite her large size.

Taking a glass of wine I sipped it slowly, enjoying the bubbly feeling of it going down my throat. Yet a slither around my ankle caught my attention, and I froze at the sight of a familiar snake, looking up at me with their cute tilted head. "Friend!" Faust cheered, happily slithering up my body to rest on my shoulders, "Yes Faust, it's good to see you again" A pained smile forced at my lips, scratching softly under Faust's chin. If Faust's here then Asra and his apprentice must be close by, I should've expected as much. "Miss you" My heart tightened at the words, forcing the breath out my lungs painfully, and here I thought I could enjoy the Masquerade without running into anyone else, but I guess even an over packed Masquerade can't hide me from them. "I missed you too Faust-" My words were cut off by a familiar voice, merely a couple feet behind me, yelling for the beautiful creature wrapped around my shoulders.

"Im sorry Faust but I really should be leaving, please don't tell Asra I was here alright?" I asked as worry started to pool in the pit of my stomach, however Faust simply tilted her head, watching me curiously. Nevertheless I made a slow pace to the exit, not wanting to rise any sort of suspicion as Asra yells a bit louder. And there he is, my savior. Putting on a small smile I took a drink from a waiters tray, walking up to Julian without seeming any bit out of place, then once the right moment hit I brushed my shoulder against his and shrugged Faust onto him, not once turning back to look at them. However I knew I wasn't out in the clear just yet since a pair of eyes followed me as I left the room.

Being out in the hall felt a lot better then being so close to him. Especially when I'm not ready to face him just yet, hell I don't even think I have the power to look at him without freezing up, how stupid of me to think I could come back here. "[Y/n]?" The sound of Nadia's voice finally got me to relax a bit, letting the tension in my shoulders drop, "Hey Sis, it's been a while" I smiled down at her, watching as her eyes soften before pulling me into a tight embrace that I gladly returned. "Where'd you go? You told me that you were going to talk to Asra after what happened with Lucio and the Devil but it was only him that came back, he said he didn't know where you ran off to and when I tried to ask what happened he'd never answer!" Her crimson eyes glare up at me as they slowly fill with tears that I quickly brushed away.

"Its okay Nadi, Im back now and I plan to stay, I missed my little sister way to much to be gone for so long" I chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood even only for a second, before she looks at my costume with not very well hidden disgust. "You've really never had an eye for fashion have you?" She sighs, taking my hand and dragging me down the hall where Portia was standing. Once her eyes met mine her face lit up in realization, "[Y/n]! You're back!" She jumped up to hug me, which I returned with a ruffle of her long hair.

"Portia could you please get my dear brother to one of the guest rooms so he can change?" Nadi smiled and Portia couldn't have answered any happier, "Yes milady! Now c'mon [Y/n] lets get you a new costume!" She cheered, dragging me away by the sleeve of my shirt. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this wasn't going to end well, and by the time I was pushed in the room with a new set of clothing I knew I was right. The clothing was way to revealing for my liking, even though the color and fabric made me look elegant and right at home. The top exposed my arms and most of my chest, the 'V' stopping right above my waist which the pants hugged tightly, yet the rest of it was baggy except the bottom of it, which also hugged my ankles nicely.

But my tattoos and scars were out in the open. The skulls, flowers, and chains that decorate my body glowed a faint blue color, as if cheering that they were finally free from my always concealed clothing.

I didn't want to wear it, every part of my mind was screaming to tear it off but I couldn't. My sister picked this out for me and this is her party, I'll do it for her if not for myself. Sliding my mask back on I headed out the room, looking down at Portia with a nervous smile as she stared at the art in wonder, "I never knew you had these!" She pouted, looking as If I had betrayed her somehow. I could only reached out and pat her head, trying to ignore the eyes that locked onto me, "Im not very fond of them, so I always hid them, Im sorry for not telling you sooner." She merely rolled her eyes and smiled at me before realization yet again broke on her face, "I need to go tell the rest you're here! Stay put!" My eyes widened as I tried to stop her, but she was already out of reach before I could, and the slithery presence was back at my feet.

"Friend!"

Fucking hell.

At that moment I felt the fight to run away slowly drain from me, I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, no matter how hard I tried. Even so, with what resistance was left in me I headed towards the garden with Faust resting peacefully on my shoulders, and stayed put by the fountain, letting my eyes flutter shut for a mere moment.

_____

My palms started to sweat as I looked down into those mesmerizing lavender eyes that watched me with an amused glint, "Asra I-" The words got caught in my throat for the millionth time now, and even I was getting impatient with myself. But can you blame me? Asra looked so majestic under the moonlight, with the stars that practically glowed in his eye's, I don't think I've ever thought it was possible to feel so relaxed and intimidated at the same time.

"[Y/n], are you okay?" He asked, his voice barley above a whisper as he slowly reached up, softly brushing his fingers against my cheek. A flutter in my chest caused the chains on my body to recoil slightly, and thankfully he didn't notice the change, "No, I just can't hold it in anymore Asra" My hand clenched tightly on my sleeves, nearly causing them to rip while Asra brushed a lock of hair of of my face. "Hold in what?" He smiled, but my eyes drifted to his chest, looking where the mark on his heart is hiding, causing me to reluctantly pull away from his touch.

It was a simple friendly gesture he's always done to calm me down, to bring me back from whatever clouded my thoughts. So when I pulled away he reached out again, slower this time, as if any rushed movement would send me away. "Asra stop" He looked a bit shocked when I grabbed his wrist, but my grip was gentle, cause I'm more afraid of hurting him than anyone else. However the negative thoughts practically swallowed my mind whole as I rejected his magic from flowing into me. The mark on his chest was the only thing I could look at, cause it reminds me everyday that he gave up some of his heart for his apprentice, to bring them back. Jealousy truly is a cruel thing.

"Nevermind, it was foolish of me to think I even had a chance" I whispered with a bitter chuckle, taking a step back I crossed my arms, turning my broken gaze towards the sky. "Forget it, just go back to your apprentice, they need you more than I do" I don't know why my words came out laced in such malice and sorrow, but they did, and that seemed to earn a glare back from him. "What's wrong with you? Ever since you found out about my deal its like all you want to do is run away from me and push me away, if you have something to say to me then go ahead and say it, but do not drag them into this."

The chain around my neck tightened, slowly crushing at my windpipe as I clenched my fists and smiled softly to myself. I knew I'd regret what I did next, I knew it would weigh on me forever, I knew it would cause me much more pain then it did right then, but I did it anyway. Ill have to thank Ilya if this works, putting on my best face I turned towards Asra and scoffed, tilting my head a bit, like I usually do when pissed off, even though this is just a lovely facade. "Don't even bother, its not like you'd care anyways, would you? All you care about is that apprentice of yours, you even gave up part of your heart for them" I let the words flow, nearly letting the tears pool in my eyes when I spat them out.

"Is that really what you think?" He hissed, knuckles turning white from how tightly he was grasping his sleeves, but I didn't let myself falter under his gaze. "Asra I don't have to think it when I know its true, we've known each other since we were kids, you can't fool me" I scoffed, glaring back into his lavender eyes, keeping that gaze was a lot harder then I thought it would be. Before he could speak up I made sure to cut him off, "You love 'em, that's the only reason you'd do it right? Because you love them? Let me guess, you couldn't live without them could you?" I rolled my eyes, looking off to my left, practically feeling his breath hitch for a moment, confirming what I needed to know.

Im sorry Asra.

You don't have to forgive me.

Because I highly doubt these chains will go anywhere, I can never be free. Even with you by my side, the one person that keeps me together, the one person that I'd risk everything for.

Im so sorry.

"Just leave already, its not like you want to be here anyways right? So just leave me alone, I don't want you here."

_____

I don't remember much after that, but I do know he left, and I was left alone to wallow in my own despair. The chains got tighter over the year, so tight that the only thing keeping me breathing is all the techniques I've learned, and the fact I learned how to hold my breath for a long while. A few tears slip past my [E/c] eyes, that Faust happily wipes away with her tail, rubbing her face against my cheek, "Friend!" She smiles, curling against me, it felt so good to have her around again. Even if this'll be the last time.

The chains tighten a slight fraction, forcing me to hold my breath. "[Y/n]?" My body tensed at how my name rolled off his lips, it felt like a distant dream, like this isn't actually happening, but one look at him and I know its real. My god has he always looked so gorgeous? Or am I going crazy? Probably both. Once [E/c] met Lavender I knew I was done, his hairs pushed back like last year though the mask kinda looks the same, with only a few added touches, and his costume definitely gets him to stand out above the rest, just a beautiful array of bright colors clashing against his mixed skin, it hugs his figure perfectly. He looks like a god amongst the light of the fountain.

"Its me" I sighed out, reluctantly turning my gaze back to my feet. I couldn't help the surprise when he moved in front of me, placing both hands on my cheeks, looking into my eyes with such relief that I could hardly believe it. His touch sent shivers down my spine, slowly I started to breathe again as the chains retract a bit, I had clearly forgotten how revealing my clothes are, cause once the chains pulled back Asra's eyes shifted to them.  "How long have you had these?" He asked, trailing his hands down to trace the marking with a soft touch, "Asra wait-" Yet the mark appears, the same one he has, just mine glowed a faint blue in the center of my chest.

His eyes widened seeing the mark, keeping his eyes on it as if it were to attack at any moment, "You've never had chains, its always been your skulls and flowers, is it because of this? Why didn't you tell me about this?" He looked hurt, the same hurt in his eyes that he had a year ago when we last talked.

"What was your deal?"

Oh how I wanted to tell him, but the chains tightened at the thought, yet I pushed through it, Im tired of lying, I'm tired of keeping everything in, Im tired of it all, "That I couldn't be open anymore, that I wouldn't be able to speak my mind freely like I once did." A small cough ripped out my throat as a blue glow tried to burn past the chains, failing miserably. "What? Why?" He looked stunned, I don't blame him, I've always been one to speak my mind and tell everyone how I'm feeling, to be honest to myself and them without a care about what others thought.

But..

"I was scared, there's something I've always wanted to say, but I never could because I've always been so afraid about what would happen after, what if it went wrong? What if I messed up? What if I said something wrong? What if you-" My mouth snapped shut as quickly as it could, now I certainly can't avoid this, cause those lavender eyes stare at me with such intensity I might just burn away. His hands slowly moved up to my neck, letting his magic aid in pulling the chain away from my neck, allowing me to breath freely. "What about me?" He asked softly, keeping his gaze fixed on mine as my hands unconsciously travel to his hips.

I guess it's now or never..

Building what up whatever courage I had left, I pulled Asra against my chest, using one hand to push his mask out the way, before claiming his lips with mine.

[justfanficccc]

BLESSED ARE THE MEEK

just some angst and buildup/Father Paul x reader

IIII LORD OF HOSTS

“For the lips of a priest should guard knowledge, and people should seek instruction from his mouth, for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts.”

The night is long and tedious. You lay out some jeans, a long knit sweater, and your usual leather boots for the next day, Anne would probably disapprove of the tears in the pants but you don’t want to wear another dress. You shower for the second time that day feeling that you need to wash it away and finally lay your head down for the night you snuggle into your new sheets feeling clean again as you drift off. No dreams plague you tonight you are at peace.

It's morning, you feel yourself pop out of bed rather hastily and check the time. 9 am. You prepare your breakfast and play on your phone pretending you can’t feel the yourself becoming excited to see him. The morning passes slower than you expected, you stare at the clock on the wall biting your nails in anticipation. Anne is at work so the house is all yours for a little while. Pacing for what seemed like forever in front of her room you find the courage to push open the door, it's exactly how you’d thought it would be. Boring, a cross above her bed, no sign of anything interesting. You walk to her nightstand and open the drawer carefully. The contents not intriguing you much, just a bible and a few old letters. You pick up the small stained envelope and carefully pull out the handwritten note.

Anne,

I miss you dearly, please come visit soon. I know your mother and I aren’t on the best of terms but we just need time to heal. I am at your grandparent's house, it’s beautiful here. You spent summer break here a few times. I'm sorry if you are upset with me. I am looking forward to hearing back from you.

All my love,

Dad

You feel tears puddling in your eyes and squint them away. “Always daddy’s favorite, all I got was a text telling me to stop antagonizing mom” you murmur to yourself and push the letter back into the drawer haphazardly.

You walk slowly, your boots hitting the ground lightly. Not wanting to seem too eager you end up at the center about 5 minutes late. You feel your heart patter as you come up to the building, luckily you look down before heading in and button the pesky button on your sweater that won’t seem to stay shut. You reach for the handle but before you can open it yourself the heavy door swings open and you are greeted by a startled looking Father Paul his big doe eyes staring as if he had no idea you were coming. He caught himself gawking and smiles awkwardly and gestures to you to enter. You do so swiftly trying to squeeze past him without touching him, but despite your best efforts, you feel your shoulder brush past the bottom of his chest below his collar as you shuffle into the auditorium. He offers you a seat as it seems he has already set up the chairs without your help. You relax into the chair he offered sitting down and instinctively crossing your legs and sitting up straighter than normal, trying to be as well mannered as possible. “I thought I would get a head start this morning and well. It seems I may have not needed your help after all.” He says chuckling as he sits in a chair across from you. You tilt your head and furrow your brow as he sips his coffee from a styrofoam cup his eyes locked on yours. You can’t help but think he looks a bit guilty. After a few awkward moments, he shifts in his seat and places the drink between his feet on the floor. “If I'm being truthful I didn’t need your help with setting all this up.” You keep your eyes on him giving him a puzzled look still not sure what to say. He breaks his gaze and stands up quickly searching the room. “Oh, there it is.” Picking up a very worn bible he swiftly comes and takes his seat again. He flips to a page that seems to be bookmarked and places his finger on the page. “Truth be told I knew I could do it myself but I-I thought you could help me out with this, I’ve been having a hard time incorporating this into the homily because well, I'll just read it for you” He outstretches his arm that isn’t cradling the book.“For the lips of a priest should guard knowledge, and people should seek instruction from his mouth, for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts.” He paused and rested his hand on the back of his head, deep in thought. “Seems a bit arrogant.” You spit out before you could stop the words. “Yes, a bit.” He grinned coyly, looked up, and closed the book keeping his thumb bookmarked on the page. “I have no idea how to make it seem less...” his eyes shut as he searched his brain for the right word.

“Pretentious?” You blurted out again now feeling a bit more comfortable from how he reacted to your first little outburst. His smile faded as he nodded, less amused now looking a bit conflicted. You feel the heat of embarrassment moving up your chest and into your throat hoping you didn’t offend him. You stop your flustered thoughts for a moment and think “since when did you care about offending someone like him? Ah yes, those devilish good looks are what’s stopping you.” You smile to yourself, in your little world. He’s still looking at you as you bring your eyes to his. Are they filled with inquisitiveness or disdain for you? Usually, when men look at you this way it’s simple to tell what they are thinking. His gaze is undeniably intense. It’s different from the way he looked at you during last night's meal. This was Intimate. Now you wonder if the look he gave you the first time you two locked eyes in the church was this one. Not the lust-filled stare you thought it was. You part your lips and think for a moment contemplating why you were even here in the first place, you realize how inappropriate it was to think he was interested in you like that. He cuts you off before you can start speaking “No need to feel embarrassed, you are just being honest.” He sipped his coffee again eying you behind the rim of his cup. Now you understood what this was. An intervention. Anne must’ve put him up to it, she would know you couldn’t resist and is using it to try and guide you back to church. You tip your head down in defeat realizing how humiliating this is. Taking a breath and realizing you won’t speak your mind he interjects your train of thought “truthfully I wanted to know if you had any ideas on how to make it sound a bit more..appealing.” you scoff at the request. “Honestly, Father,” drawing the word out hoping he’d hear the sarcasm in your tone. “I don’t think Shakespeare could make that book appealing.”

He winces at the harshness in your voice. Finally finding the strength you speak up again “And honestly, I don’t understand why you’d ask someone who doesn’t even believe in the thing to help you with your homily’’ your posture begins to change and turns more hostile as you speak and he takes notice, pulling himself back into his chair arms crossed with a defeated look in his eye. “You caught me.” He raises his hands and smirks. “Your sister explained that you weren’t...” he pauses thinking again. “In a state of Grace.”

“So you thought this would make me interested? Helping you?” He nods almost frantically, not very good at hiding his emotions with his eyes. You sigh, what else do you have to do, you haven’t found work yet this could be something to keep your mind off of things. “Do you really need my help?” Letting yourself relax.

“Well yes, actually I would love you to read these over for me and tell me what you think.’’ He pulls out some disheveled scrap paper from the binder that holds his bible. You reach out to grab them from his outstretched arm, your hand rubs against his finger as you take them and you instantly pull away, papers in hand. “I can come by tomorrow, I’ll edit it tonight’’ you say as you stand keeping your eyes away from his. As you both walk to the door in silence you swore you caught him staring, trailing his eyes down the curve of your neck, it’s then you realized the stupid button had unbuttoned itself again. Your chest and cheeks flush. You don’t want to pull attention to it in hopes you were just imagining him staring so you don’t bother fixing it. He steps in front of you quickly, not letting you handle the door yourself “I will be looking forward to it.’’ He says as he pushes open the door for you. You walk past him quickly this time making sure not to touch him. “We are all welcome in God's house.” You hear him whisper sweetly to you as you pass him.

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #3

TW -mention of case and bodily torture etc.

The Unsub was targeting red-heads. They were bound and kept for a week and then murdered in what seemed to be the messiest way possible.

"One girl every week. As soon as he dumps one, he already has another," JJ spoke, showing photos of victims and crime scenes on the big screen, "this is week four, and this week has only just started for our unsub." She finished, looking around the table.

"judging by how fast the unsub replaces these girls, I feel like it's safe to assume that he felt he was easily replaced, most likely by a former girlfriend and now feels like he is getting some sort of revenge on her with these innocent ladies." I chimed in. Everyone nodding in agreement, continuing to add their own theories.

It felt like the side of my head was burning. I turned to the direction the sensation was coming from, my eyes averted the gaze of Spencer, who quickly looked away, playing coy and shuffling in his seat. The meeting finished and Hotch turned to me,

"Got your go-bag?" His face still stern.

"In the car, Sir." I replied, he barely reacted, but I could tell he was a little surprised for me to be prepared to go on my first day.

"Good. Wheels up in thirty." And with that, he took his file and left the room.

"So, JJ showed us your resume, and I think it's fair to say that you and pretty boy will be quite close competition." Derek teased while propping himself on the desk next to me. Confused I asked him,

"Competition for what?" Seeing as we're supposed to be a team and all.

"Who's got the biggest brains!" He replied, almost shocked that I didn't know the answer.

"Oh..." I trailed off, looking quickly at Spencer who was watching our conversation, "I guess we'll see. I gotta get my go-bag, it's in the car-"

Derek leaned in towards me, "Take him with you. He needs some decent company." I nodded and stood up. I waved at Spencer to follow me.

He hesitated at first, but Derek and everyone else ushered him to follow. We grabbed our files and headed out of the conference room, hearing giggles as we left, Spencer looked back for a second, causing me to as well.

Nearing the elevator, no words were spoken, the silence wasn't awkward, but it felt like he wanted to say something. We got in the elevator and I thanked him for buying my coffee this morning.

He let out a small sigh and a light laugh,

"Yeah, well, not that were knew you were going to be there, BUT, seeing as you were and U recognised you from your file...I heard you mention how nervous you were and I wanted to help, it seems like I didn't help, instead threw you off even more. You were so flustered, I felt so bad. You reminded me of myself when I first started. That's why I didn't say anything else until Morgan showed up..." His head lowered as if he was talking to the ground.

"Oh, no, please don't feel bad. I was mostly confused at the gesture of a stranger buying me something, even if it was just coffee." I reassured him. The elevator doors opened and we stepped out, Reid following me to my car, he asked me what Morgan had whispered in my ear earlier.

"He just said you needed company, and I'm also in need of company, so I was happy to take the offer." I told him, leaning into the boot of my car to grab my bag.

I shut the boot and looked up at him, his face sceptical of what I'd just said.

"I'm happy to have the company. I'll take all the company I can get right now." I confirmed with him. Seeming satisfied with my answer, we headed back.

Once we got back to the bullpen, the team all came over to us and we all started talking. After a while of small talk, we all drifted toward where I assumed the jet would be. I was trailing at the back, following the group, enjoying myself, feeling very happy that everyone was so accepting.

Walking into the jet, everyone seemed to have their own seats. Hotch at the front, Rossi across the table in the same booth. JJ across the small Hall from them. Emily and Derek sharing a booth behind JJ, and Spencer, at a table by himself toward the back. The only seat available was the one at the table with Spencer. I sat down and he pulled out a chess set.

"Do you play?" He looked over expectantly.

"Not competitively." I said, adjusting myself in my seat.

The game lasted what seemed like forever. I played along with him, amusing him and testing the waters, but I could see his moves before he was even thinking about them. I made my final move, pinning his King into a check mate.

"No way!" He whined, his voice almost a squeak, throwing his hands in the air. He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, falling back in to his chair.

"Next time." I giggled at him.

Hotch called for everyone's attention, discussing the case and delegating roles. Being told that I would be out in the field while Reid was to stay at the local station caused a tiny sick feeling in my stomach v unsure why, I distracted myself by getting up to get a coffee. I walked into the smaller room in the back and grabbed a cup.

Derek popped in, offering some help with the coffee machine.

"You're doing good with him." He nodded towards Spencer who was looking over the cheese board, I assume replaying in his head.

"I'm just treating him like a person. I rather enjoy his company." I said, studying Spencer, sadness beginning to creep in me, knowing what is like to be the outcast.

We finished making my coffee and I settled down on the chair in front of Sidney. Watching his facial expressions as he replayed the game, occasionally moving and replacing pieces. I stopped my coffee in amusement. I helped him out, by putting pieces back to the move before his last fatal move was. He focused, his eyes flicking between pieces over the board. He made a nice and looked up at me and nodded towards the board.

I saw that his move was different than the game we just played, so I adjusted him and made my own move. It was over in 5, Reid's face following ad he realised he got me. He not-so-subtly chicken to himself, interlacing his fingers, sitting back with the biggest smile across his lips. I sipped my coffee, smiling at the beautifully wholesome scene unfolding in front of me.

"You're good." I praised, taking another sip of coffee, watching him silently accept the compliment, nodding in agreement.

We landed and everyone went their separate ways, to their assigned locations. Emily and I were together. We went to the most recent crime scene. When we arrived, I got my gloves out and ready.

"The lack of blood staining indicates that the victims were definitely killed elsewhere and this is purely a dump site." I trailed off, remembering the pictures of the victims, "He also took their hearts, right. That fits in with him being replaced. He must have given his all to this girl, so when she moved on, she took his heart with her, leaving him empty. More he's getting his revenge how he sees fit." Emily nodded, agreeing with what I was saying.

We looked around a bit more, not finding much. Emily got a call from Hotch, calling us back to the station. We got back in the car and drove off, Emily driving.

"Crazy first day, hey?" She questioned, glancing my way for a second.

"It's gone. I was packed ready. Not that I was expecting to get the job, but I was just so excited. I had to be ready for anything, you know?" My voice light as I recounted this morning's events and how everyone had been so nice.

"You're doing great!" She chimed, "And... having two brainiacs on the team will make it interesting..." Her voice trailed off.

"He's good at chess." I remarked, smiling at the thought of playing him again.

"Three PHD's means you're fierce competition, y/n. He hasn't had that yet. As long as you don't go too crazy with showing off, I think you two will get along great. He loves being challenged and using his brain...." She continued to list a few things that she's learnt about Sidney, making a mental Lyst, I thanked her for letting me know as we were pulling up to the station car park.

She smiled at me as we entered the building. Opening up the door, we went in. We found Reid hovering over a board-map set up with markers in hand. Watching him work was almost relaxing. He had a rhythm, almost, in the way he measured distances, made his marks on the map and the occasional tapping of the markers on his chin as he quietly thought to himself.

I didn't want to interrupt his train of thought, so I stood off to the side, I could see the board clearly at I leaned against a nearby desk b Emily joining me, offering me a cup of coffee she had just made. Her and I watched Reid as he worked.

Soon enough the rest of the team arrived. There wasn't many leads and it was getting late. Hotch dismissed everyone and we went across the road to the hotel. Everyone went their separate ways and went to bed.

This is part #3.

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.6k

Warnings: smut, swearing, Dom vibes, dirty talk

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 14 Part 16

Part 15

After lunch, Liam took me on a tour of his house. We skipped the ground floor as I had already seen pretty much everything.

The first floor was a complete mystery to me. First, Liam showed me his study. It had two desks; on one, Liam had a fancy-looking PC, the other had a laptop and scripts and other paperwork scattered around. It had a large built-in bookcase with only a few books in it, most of them mine. I frowned at this. For an avid reader, he had a small collection. There was also a tiny bathroom, a guest bedroom which Liam says sometimes Ryan stays in.

The last room was a cinema room, all painted black with three rows of reclining chairs set on raised platforms with a projector screen. "This is fantastic," I said. There were cupboards, also black to store discs. When I opened them, I saw Liam's movie collection was also surprisingly bare. "For someone in the film industry, you don't have a lot of movies."

"I do, but most of them are back in London. It's the same thing with all my books and half my wardrobe. I don't know how long I'll be here. If the show is a success and gets picked up for another series, I might ship some of it here."

I let his words sink in. I don't know why, but it never really occurred to me that he may pick up and leave in six months. I felt myself close up and shut down. Regret started to set in. I tried to ignore it and tell myself to cross that bridge when the time comes. I forced a smile as I closed the cupboards and said to Liam, "What's next?"

We went up to the second floor. Liam's bedroom was there with another two bedrooms and a sitting room. The final floor was where the real master bedroom was. It had the gorgeous bathroom we were in last night and a huge bedroom that took up nearly the whole space. It had an even bigger wardrobe than Liam's, split in two with distinct areas for each partner. The bedroom had its own lounge area, and the whole room was arranged like a hotel suite complete with en-suite balcony and city views. It was exceptional. I was so blown away by the house, mansion really, that for a while, I forgot to worry about the future.

"Why didn't you use this as your bedroom? It's amazing."

Liam shrugged. "I did when I first moved in. But it was too big for just me. I felt lonely up here, and it was that bit harder for Cole to come and see me. I almost moved down to the first-floor bedroom, but it doesn't have a dressing room, so I went to the one I'm in now. What do you think?"

I was leaning on the balcony railing, looking towards the city. The trees were a colourful mix of green, red and gold. A few were starting to lose their leaves. It was so pretty. I felt Liam come up behind me and wrap his arms around me. He put his chin on my shoulder, and we both looked out towards the city. "Of the house? It's amazing. I don't know how else to describe it. I mean, it's a bit much for me. I'd cry if I had to clean it. But I assume you have cleaners?" Liam nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't live in a place this big without a cleaner."

"I'm glad you like it. I want you to be comfortable when you come over."

I interlaced my fingers with his and held them against my belly. "I'm definitely comfortable right now." We stood there for a while and relaxed into each other. Thoughts of Liam leaving reared it's ugly head a few times, but I ignored it. Instead, I focused on now. All I could do was enjoy the time I had with Liam and make the best of it.

Soon the wind started to pick up, and I grew cold. Liam took me back inside.

"I've got to work out for a bit," Liam said as we took the stairs down. "Do you think you can keep yourself occupied for an hour or so?"

"I could join you if you want? I didn't go to the gym yesterday so I could do with some exercise."

"Yeah, ok, let do it."

Liam went into his dressing room, and I changed in his room. I put on a pair of white and black ankle grazer tights and a white sports bra. I felt good in it and knew I looked good too. I went over to the chair to put my shoes and socks on and caught Liam looking through the door.

He was dressed already in shorts and a singlet. Guys always seem to get dressed so quickly. It takes me ages to dress unless I'm in a rush. Liam leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me. I ignored him as I did my shoes up.

"You look good in that." He said. I caught myself straightening my back, and a warm tingle flowed through me. I liked his little compliments.

"Thanks," I said, getting up. I put my hair in a ponytail, deliberately sticking my chest out as I did.

"Is that what you normally wear to the gym?"

"I usually wear a singlet over the top."

"But not today?" A smile spread over his face.

I smiled and said airily, "Nope, not today."

"I know what you're doing, Sweetheart." He walked past me, patting my bottom as he did. I tried to look innocent. "Come on. Let's go."

Liam put some music on and got started. Cole heard the music and came in, plopping himself on his mat in the corner. I blocked both of them out as much as I could and focused on the music. I was not going to get caught looking at Liam. I was going to make him look at me.

I got on the bike to do a bit of cardio. After warming up, I spent 10 minutes doing some interval training and worked up a decent sweat. I went over to the barbell, removed several weights, muttering "fucking hero" under my breath. I started my weights with a few sets of deadlifts. I noticed Liam in the corner of my eye with a kettlebell. He was sweaty too and looked amazing doing his lifts, but I pulled my eyes away. He was watching me. Good. I tried hard to keep the smirk off my face, but it was bloody difficult.

I focussed on my next exercise. I changed the weight again for the overhead press. These were hard for me, as my upper body was weaker than my lower body. I did these as quickly as possible because I hated them and only did them now because I knew they would drive Liam to distraction.

I did some goblet squats with a dumbbell before moving to my favourite, the weighted hip thrust. I got the barbell again, sat with my back against a bench, and brought the barbell to my hips. I planted my feet, and exhaling, I leaned back onto the bench, squeezing my glutes until my upper body and hips are straight. Then I lowered and exhaled again and repeated the exercise. When I had finished the set, I lowered myself to the floor and rested.

"Do you do that at the gym?" Liam asked.

I didn't look at him, knowing I would smile if I did. "Yeah. Why? Am I doing it wrong?" I knew full well I was doing it right.

"No, your form is lovely," I ordered myself not to blush. Liam paused and asked, "Are there men at your gym?" Got him.

"Yeah, it's usually 75% men."

"Lucky bastards." I looked at him and giggled. I wanted to smack myself. I was trying to be sexy, not a fucking child. He was sitting on a bench press. His legs were on either side of the bench, and his elbows rested on his knees. He was still sweating, his curls plastered to his forehead. His arms glistened. I wanted him to fuck me so badly.

Composing myself, I said. "I have another set to do."

"I'm finished." He said, "Go ahead. I'll wait."

I got back into position and repeated the set. When I finished, I lowered myself back to the floor. Liam asked. "Done yet?" Liam was standing now. He had moved closer and had his hands on his hips.

"One more." I was excited. My heart rate was raised, not just from the exercise.

Liam growled impatiently.

I started my last set, and my body was trembling. I didn't know if I could do the full set. I was too excited, too turned on. Liam entered my field of vision, watching me as I worked. I wasn't going to be able to do it with him watching. I closed my eyes, found my focus, and continued.

As I finished and rolled the barbell away, Liam lifted it and put it away. I laid down on my back and stretched out my muscles.

Liam stood over me. "You did that on purpose." It wasn't a question.

Still trying to play innocent, I said, "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just working out."

"Get up."

"I'm stretching."

"You're done. Get up."

I smiled at him and put my hand out. "Help me up?"

He grasped my hand and lifted me. He pulled me close and kissed me hard. "You're a fucking tease." He said. He didn't let me go. He held me tighter, his hand resting on my arse.

I started to protest that I didn't know what he was talking about, but he spanked me and said. "Don't deny it." He said, lifting me and wrapping my legs around his waist. "You know you were trying to get me hard." I could feel him against me. It had worked. "Since it worked, you can deal with it." His voice had taken on the gravelly tone he used when he was turned-on. It thrilled me. I put my arms around Liam's neck. Kissing me again, he walked out of the room. His lips tasted salty as I kissed him back.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"I'm giving you what you want. I'm going to fuck you."

"I didn't say that I wanted that," I said. Oh, but I did want that.

"You didn't have to," Liam said. He pushed me against the wall in the elevator as he pressed the button. "You know what to say if you want me to stop." He looked me in the eyes, "Anytime you want me to stop, I will. Don't hesitate or do anything you don't want to." I nodded to show him I understood. "Good."

When the lift opened, he took me to the bathroom we had used last night. I chuckled when I saw his clothes were still in a pile on the floor. He had let the water out of the bath and replaced my robe.

Liam took me over to the shower. "Shoes off," he said, and I took my shoes and socks off while he did the same. "Let your hair down." I pulled the band out and shook my hair until the curls fell around my shoulders. "Take your pants off." I lowered my tights slowly and stepped out of them. Liam did the same I could see how hard he was now. He continued to tell me to undress as he did the same until we both stood, our bodies bare.

He was beautiful standing there naked and hard. His arms looked more impressive than usual because of his work out. I wanted to touch him. I stepped closer to him and put my hand on his bicep. I felt my way up his arm, over his shoulder and across his collarbone. I stood on my toes to kiss his neck while I felt his chest. I reached my hands around his back and pressed myself against him. "Get in," he said. "Hurry."

I let him go and got into the shower. The temperature was perfect, and I let the water run all over me. I ran my hands through my hair to make sure it was all wet before turning around and facing Liam. He turned me around until I met the wall and used his body to shepherd me until my whole body was against it.

The tiles were cold, instantly making my nipples grow hard and tingly, sending ripples of pleasure down to my sex. My arms were pulled behind my back, elbows bent and forearms next to each other. Liam's body pushed into me, holding them there. In this position, I was helpless, and at his will, he could do what he wanted. It excited me. My whole centre throbbed. I wanted him. He was taking too long.

Liam's knees forced my legs apart, and I could feel my slick arousal on my thighs. He tilted my hips so my bottom jutted out. I thought of how I must look, arse out, legs apart, arms behind my back with my breasts and face pushed into the wall, his huge body covering mine. He leaned his head on the tiles next to mine, and his teeth nipped at my ear. I shivered in pleasure, in desperation and need.

I cried out in shock and relief as I felt Liam's fingers reaching around and parting my slit. "Fuck," he growled into my ear. "You feel so fucking good." He found my clit and played with me.

I cried out. I was so aroused I was almost too sensitive for his touch to feel good. I tried to pull away, but Liam's hold was firm. His fingers followed my every movement, not willing to let go until their mission was complete. He kissed and bit my neck and shoulders, adding more sensations to my already overwhelmed body. I didn't think I'd be able to take it.

Then it felt good, better than good, and I was able to stay still and let him have me. Liam's fingers danced over me. My cries quickened, and my body felt tight. I knew my climax was fast approaching.

Liam knew too. "Are you going to cum, Lana?" He stopped kissing me and watched my face. I couldn't say anything. I was too strung out, too close. I nodded as best I could. Liam put his hand into my hair and pulled my head back.

"After you cum I'm going to stick my cock into your tight wet pussy and fuck you until I cum. Is that what you wanted, Lana? Is that what you wanted when you got dressed in your skin-tight clothes? When you wore that bra that pushed your perky little tits together? When you lifted those weights, and I had to watch you thrust your arse and hips around? Is this what you wanted?" I tied to say yes, but instead, I came undone.

Liam kissed me, his mouth consuming me, his tongue owning my mouth as little aftershocks rippled through me. He took what little breath I had, and I was left gasping. The sound of the shower was suddenly thunderous in my ears as my senses returned. The stream of water was hot against my cooling skin, but it felt good. I was still gasping when I felt Liam's cock at my entrance. He stood up straight, releasing my hair and arms. Although they ached, I put my arms against the wall to brace for what I knew was to come.

His hands steadied my hips as his cock parted me, opening me up to him. I heard him groan as he entered me. I was tight from my orgasm, but I was so wet and relaxed he slid in quickly. His size stretched me until I was full, and he had sheathed himself completely. He wasted no time and immediately ploughed into me. Each thrust was rough, almost reaching the point of painful, but always just shy. I pushed back into him, arching my back further to give his movements more room.

His fingers dug deep into my hips as he forced them back to meet his. Each push seemed to elicit a deep exhale from Liam's throat, a growl that grew more shallow with each moment. I heard him bellow as his hands reached up for my shoulders. He pulled my shoulders down as he pushed so hard into me, I thought I would split in two. He held me there for a moment as he let go into me, and I cried out, unsure if it hurt or felt like heaven. I felt him release inside me, pulling me down while he pushed into me. I almost cried no more, but it would have been a lie because the hurt was too sweet.

Liam's head lulled onto my back as he released my shoulders and regained his breath. He lifted his head to turn me around. With my back against the tiles, he once more leaned into me, this time just to hold me, his head buried in my neck. I held him to me, wanting his comfort, and he kissed my neck softly, moving up to my face and kissing my lips.

He was smiling as he brushed my hair off my face. Then he moved me under the water. He found the body wash, couldn't find a sponge or anything so he just used his hands to wash me. He ran his hands all over my body, and it felt heavenly. He rubbed my shoulders, massaging deep into me, his thumbs moving so deeply they almost hurt. Any tension I had left fell away, and I felt light and free. He gave himself a quick wash before he stepped out and brought me a robe and slipped one on himself.

"Finally, you decide to cover up," I said as I watched him use a towel to dry his hair. His curls were a cute little mess on his head almost fluffing up like a duckling.

"Yeah, righto mate." He said, using my slang back at me.

I laughed. "Seems I'll make an Aussie out of you yet."

"Pull your head in," Liam said, complete with a halfway decent accent.

"What the hell? I don't think I've told you that one!"

Liam smiled and kissed me on the nose. "That one I learned from Boyd."

"Who's Boyd?"

"Boyd McCarthy. He is going to play my best friend. He's helped me out with a few phrases. However, I don't entirely trust him. He tried to get me to believe in drop bears."

"I like him already," I said as I gathered my clothes.

"Well, you'll meet him on Thursday."

"I still don't know what to wear to that."

Liam had his clothes, and we went downstairs. "I can take you shopping tomorrow if you'd like."

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Usually, high-end fashion boutiques or department stores."

I thought for a minute. We had arrived in the bedroom, and Liam went into his dressing room.

"Ok. I think a department store. They will have everything I need, shoes and a bag. We won't have to go to a million places."

"If you want to go to a few boutiques as well, I don't mind. We can take as long as you want."

I shook my head. "I don't like clothes shopping. I order most of my stuff online. I'd rather spend a day online shopping than dealing with crowds in shopping centres. I'm only agreeing to go into a shop because I have no idea what's in fashion or if I enough time to get the right dress online." I looked at my bag, "Hey Liam, what are we doing for dinner? Are we staying in?"

"What does it look like?" Liam came out in his tracksuit pants.

"Fair enough, tracky dacks it is."

Part 16

[messyworldfanfictions]

Kinda weird request but I'm really sick rn, can u request daddy Martin and the reader being a bratty sub but the reader is sick with a head cold so Martin is trying to ease her symptoms w/ sexual stimulation (fun fact, sex helps relieve the common cold!) but the reader is pushing her luck and getting really bratty so daddy has to get ~very firm with her

Pairing: Martin Whitly x reader , Martin Whitly x you

Warnings: Vaginal fingering, Dom/sub, oral sex, orgasm, bratty subs, daddy kink, latex kink, …

A Notes: Hi anon & others, hope you’ll like it !

Constructive criticism are welcome, English is not my first language so I apologize for possible mistakes. If you see errors, please tell me! :)

Have fun !

You can add you to the tag list here

****************************************************************************************************

You were lying in your bed, your body covered with black silk blankets, your nose red from the irritation of the kleenex you used all day long. A terrible headache was piercing your skull and every time you sneezed it was worse. You had asked Martin not to go to work because you wanted him to stay with you, but he didn’t give in to your whim despite your supplications and threats to sulk. He told you that you were not a child and that you could stay alone and take your medication. 

But you’d been taking these meds for a week and your health hadn’t really improved, you hated taking them. The syrup was disgusting, it tasted like minty pepper and the pills you had to take were so big that they hurt your throat when you swallowed them. Today you decided not to take them, you wanted to show Martin that if he didn’t take care of you, you weren’t going to do it for him. 

You heard the front door slam, Martin had just come home and you could hear his footsteps walking up the stairs to your room. The door opened quietly and Martin entered, still dressed in his white doctor’s outfit.

« So Y/N, how do you feel? " he asked as he closed the door, putting his bags on the small table in the corner of the room. The room was poorly lit and it was already dark outside, so he moved closer to the bed to get a better view of you.

You were staring at the wall in front of you, avoiding his gaze. You pretended he didn’t exist, completely ignoring his question.

He sighed and sat on the bed next to you. “How long are you going to sulk? "He was staring at you, you could feel his eyes on your face.

*Silence*

He sighed in irritation and grabbed your chin, forcing you to turn your head towards him, you tried to resist but his grip was too strong and the pressure on your chin started to hurt. You let out a whimper of pain and protest and you finally looked at him with furrowed brows. 

« You better stop acting up, right now. » Martin said in a warning tone.

"Or what? Are you going to spank me ? ” You replied sarcastically, you knew he couldn’t physically punish you because you were too sick. He was staring at you, emotionless, not even a hint of anger. You know he’s trying to maintain control. His grip loosened around your chin and you pulled away, turning your face to the wall in front of you.

“ I am going to give you your medicine,” he said as he got up from the bed, walking to the little box where your pills from this morning were. A little grin appeared on your lips, you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he saw that you hadn’t taken his damn meds. “I’ll put tomorrow’s pills in the…”   he didn’t finish his sentence, you didn’t look at him, but you were convinced he just saw that you hadn’t taken your medication. He was standing still and staring at the little box full of pills. 

You slowly turned your head towards him, he decided to look into your eyes and innocently you asked him « What ? A problem, Daddy ?“

You could see his jaw tightening. He smashed the box hard against the table, the sudden noise made you jump. He began to walk towards you until he was inches from the bed.

"Don’t play that game with me, little one. You know you’ll lose. ” he spoke in a stern voice.

You lower your head so he couldn’t see the expression on your face, he was intimidating you.

“Why didn’t you take them ? ” he asked, impatience reflected in his voice.

Still with your head lowered, “Because …”, you said hesitantly, “because I hate it, the pills are too big, and the syrup is not good,” you answered timidly, crossing your arms on your chest with an embarrassed expression on your face.

He raised a surprised eyebrow, “Are you sure there isn’t something else? "  He accused.

"No. » You lied.

"You really are a bad liar, you know daddy don’t like it when you lie, it makes daddy angry. ” he said as he sat on the bed, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Is this what you want? To make me angry? Admit it. ” he asked as he bites his lip, sliding his index finger along your chin.

“Yes…” you murmured coyly, nodding your head. “I wanted to… Punish you because you didn’t stay with me” your eyes resting on the black silk blanket.

You looked up at his face, he was smiling. “Punish me? ” he mocked. “The only thing you’re doing is punishing yourself because you’re still going to have to take them now, and I’m going to make you swallow them. »  

Your face twisted in a grimace of disgust "Nooooo, daddy please… I don’t want to take them! They aren’t working anyway! ” as you complained, Martin had got up to take the syrup, the spoon and your pills that were on the table. He sat on the bed next to you, ignoring your pleas. He poured some syrup into the spoon and gently brought it to your mouth, but you turned your head with a grumpy expression on your face.

“Y/n…” he warned. “If you don’t open your mouth, I’ll make you open it myself. "he said in a stern tone.

You shrugged.

"Fine” he growled, grabbing a firm grip in your hair, you opened your mouth in surprise and he pushed the spoon into your mouth, pouring the red liquid into your mouth and forcing it down your throat. He released your hair the next second. “Don’t shrug at me ever again, you understand? I said I won’t punish you because you’re sick, but if you insist, I can change my mind?.” He punctuated his words by grabbing your thigh firmly under the blanket.

You loved the punishments Martin gave you when you teased him, but there was one you hated and he knew it … Once you were very impolite to him and as a punishment he tied you to the bed and smacked you on your thighs again and again. You hated this punishment, that was very painful and you didn’t take any pleasure from it. Feeling his hand squeezed on your thigh, you knew he was threatening you to do it again.

“NO! …N-no, I’m sorry Daddy…” you said in a hurry, begging him with your eyes.

He removed his hand, took the pill and presented it in front of your mouth, that you kept closed. You looked at the pill and then you looked at Martin. He sighed impatiently, “You don’t want me to force it down your throat, do you? » 

You opened your mouth, resigned and he put the pill between your lips and gave you some water to swallow it.

He stroked your hair, kissing your forehead and stood up « See ? It wasn’t that difficult. » He gave you a soft smile. "The medication are working, it just takes a bit of time to start working. I’m going to make you feel better, for tonight at least. ” he said, pulling the blanket away, you were wearing a long t-shirt that was way too large for you and it was halfway up your thigh. He smiled when he realized you were wearing his shirt, he thought it was pretty cute.

Your face was a sulky pout, he moved his hand over your thigh and stroked it with his fingertips going towards your inner thigh. “Are you sure this is going to work, Daddy? I’m not really in the mood…” You asked innocently.

He looked into your eyes and put his index finger to his lips and shushed you. He gently grabbed you by your forearms and pulled you down so that you were well pressed into the mattress. His hand continued its way up your thigh before touching the white fabric that separated his soft fingers from your private parts. He moved his hand away and whispered, “I’m going to get something, when I come back, I don’t want to see a single piece of clothing on your body, is that clear? » 

"Yes daddy. ” you nodded. He got up and left the room.

A few minutes later, you were naked, lying on the bed, your body covered with chills because you were cold. Martin had just entered the room and you noticed that he was wearing latex gloves, the ones he used at work. He also had a tube with a transparent liquid inside. You were a little nervous because you didn’t know why he had put those gloves on. 

When he sat on the bed you couldn’t help but ask him in a hesitant voice “D-Daddy, w-why are you wearing this and…” but before you could say another word he pressed his hand against your mouth. “You are being very difficult today. I’ll take care of you, just relax. If you ask one more question, I’ll gag you. ” he whispered with a smile.

It was tempting to disobey him, you loved it when he gagged you, it was your favorite punishment with a good spanking. But you decided not to upset him.

Martin caressed your face with one hand while the other touched your thigh. Martin’s thumb traced your lower lip and you letting out a shaky breath. His index finger pressed past your lips into your wet mouth. You closed your lips around his fingers, gently rubbing your tongue along the soft skin. 

His hand slipped from your thigh to your womanhood and you felt his fingers tickling your entrance as you were still sucking his finger. Suddenly he pressed his thumb on your sensitive spot and you moaned.

“Already so wet for me, I knew you would like it. ” he whispered.

You began to move your hips, hoping his fingers would accelerate, but he grabbed your hips and pushed them firmly against the mattress. “Don’t move, let me do it,” he ordered.

After playing with your little piece of nerves for a few minutes, Martin dipped a finger inside of your wet pussy, and you gasped as he began fingering you slowly. You were now shivering in pleasure, the coldness had turned into warmth, and it was running through your whole body. 

You whimpered as he added another finger, using his thumb to rub your clit. He took his index finger out of your mouth and took the tube filled with the transparent liquid, he took some of the liquid and gently put it on your vulva, it was lube. You felt his two fingers penetrating you again and again and you hoped that he would insert a third and your wish was granted. You moaned and he stayed still for a few seconds as your flesh adjusted to the intrusion, And he began to come and go faster and faster. The feeling of the latex inside your hole was exquisite.

You wanted to touch him, to feel his hardness, so your hand touched his thigh to reach up to his cock but before you could succeed, he grabbed your wrist firmly. 

« No, you don’t touch me tonight, just relax and let me take care of you. » he ordered.

« Daddy… let me suck your cock, I want it… » you practically begged, still trying to touch his cock but he slapped your hand.

“Sh-sh-sh-sh, what did I say? If you do it again I’ll be forced to tie you up. "He warned.

You smiled defiantly at him, and with a quick gesture you grabbed his bulge and started stroking him through his pants. Suddenly he grabbed your wrists, "You insolent brat. "he growled and grabbed a rope next to the bed and tied your wrists to the headboard. He leaned towards your ear and whispered, "We’ll talk about your punishment later. » 

He positioned his face between your legs and pushed his three fingers brutally into your wet entrance, you moaned in pain at this intrusion "If you hadn’t been so cocky I wouldn’t have done this, now shut up and feel. » 

Your stomach burned as the tip of his tongue meandered around your button, slowly pushing his fingers into you as he alternated between sucking and lapping at your clit. You could feel his salt and pepper beard against your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch his soft curls while he was pleasing you, but you were restrained and it was so frustrating…You moaned loudly and bucked your hips onto his fingers that huddled against your walls. Your chest heaved as your thighs started to shake on either side of his face, suddenly you felt a wave of pleasure washing over you. Your orgasm started to explose through your body, you could feel your wet cunt clenching around his fingers as they slowed down, prolonging your pleasure. He slowly removed himself from between your legs. Your breathing was deep and heavy, you were trying to catch your breath.

He smiled at you, and you smiled back at him. You felt much better, your headache was gone and you felt much more relaxed.

« Sleep now, love. » Martine said, brushing his lips over your forehead. 

« Thank you, daddy » you sighed, curling you in the blankets

[suggestionsofthecaribbean]

The Black Pearl: James and Elizabeth

The morning after Halloween, James and Elizabeth are moderately hungover.  The topic of sex, and sexual boundaries, comes up again.

CW: Carnal matters.  Pervasive and occasionally explicit.

The first thing James did on waking the morning after the shipboard Halloween festivities was stumble out of Elizabeth’s cabin as quickly as he could in search of the nearest unoccupied gun port into which he could be sick instead of onto the floor.

The second was to check the time. The third was to blog one single syllable of displeasure while ignoring the laughing of pirates who were probably no less sodden than he was at the moment but enjoyed getting to call out “You all right there, Commodore?” as he groped his way back toward the cabin, wincing.

Elizabeth waited for him there.

Sunglasses. Advil.

A sympathetic smirk.

“Hey, babe,” she said, peering above her own sunnies at him.  “Don’t be mad, but I let you sleep. I thought you may require it.”

“I am God’s own idiot,” he said, feeling around the bed in case he had left anything there that he needed to bring above deck, up to and including a pistol with which to shoot himself. “I can't even recall last night-”

“I can.”

“Oh, God,” James muttered.

“You were delicious, and so was the rum.”

“I- wait, what?”

James stopped where he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I also partook,” she said delicately.

“You- oh God- did we-”

Elizabeth, who had been leaning back on the bed beside him, legs jauntily crossed, suddenly lost her air of smug superiority and flushed.

“If my memory serves- not for lack of trying.”

“Oh, God,” he repeated, leaning forward into his hands. “Were we the only ones-”

“Drinking? Of course not,” she laughed.

“Thank God,” he said. He accepted the Advil and swallowed them dry. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry-”

“For?”

“Making a fool of myself, as ever.”

“Stop panicking,” laugh Elizabeth, patting him on the thigh.  “You didn’t.”

“I know, I- wait.”

He tilted his head to look at her. “I didn't?”

“No!  You were very popular-”

“In what manner-”

“Charming, very funny - very devil-may-care - you won some money at a dice game. Do you not recall any of this?”

“I might when my head stops splitting.”

Elizabeth eased him back onto the bed, head in her lap, gently rubbing his temple and settling herself against a pillow against the headboard, contentedly. 

“I felt like that in the morning, but I’ve vanquished the worst of it,” she said brightly.  “Of course I think I had much less than you.”

“You're also not breaking several months of abstinence,” he muttered. “Please stop me next time. I shall try to do better as well, but please-”

“I was already tipsy when you started.”

James winced his eyes shut.

“Ah, he said. “That would explain it.”

He let her massage him for a moment longer before his eyes opened again in wide, startled surprise.

“Popular, though-”

“Center of attention, made everyone laugh. Course, we were all drunk, maybe you weren’t very funny-”  Her fingers in his hair grew slow and dreamy as she thought on it.  “...and you are a very flirty drunk, James, my lord.”

“With you, I hope-”

Elizabeth started laughing gaily.  “Of course with me!”

“Ah, good. With my record, I couldn't be certain-”

“Barbossa banished us here after we got a bit too frisky -” Here Elizabeth herself actually winced, biting her lip and disguising her snarl as another laugh. “That, I am afraid, everybody saw - everybody, and Will.”  She realized quickly how James would most likely take that. “...I don’t mean that anybody saw anything but kissing and general flirtation.  I doubt Barbossa could handle any more than that.”

“But we didn't… all right. I shall try to live with this.”

James closed his eyes again; even the dim light of the curtained cabin hurt. Elizabeth surreptitiously slid the pair of sunglasses onto his face, which made him frown a little and then relax again.

“I may have destroyed that goodwill by vomiting from a gunport,” he admitted.

“Pirates.”

“Lisbet, I know I'm not terribly popular hereabouts,” he said, slowly leaning his head into her hands, “and I don't expect that to change over one rash night of drinking.”

“Oh, I know. But first of all, the vomiting will change nothing. And second of all…”

She leaned over him to touch noses for a moment.

“...you’re mine and I don’t care.”

He would have kissed her if not for fear of smelling- and worse, tasting- foul. He reached up to caress her hair instead.

“You're a more patient woman than you credit yourself.”

“I’m not.  But I adore you.”

“You look well for someone in similar condition.”

“I’ve been awake longer. Had a lot of juice. And a lot of Advil.”

“I must look ghastly,” he said, with a weak laugh.

In truth, he didn't; with his eyes covered, it was impossible to see how bloodshot they were, which was the only real resemblance he bore to his former drunken squalor. His beard was trimmed and in good shape, and his hair, though a little sweat-dampened at the moment, had grown out enough to look intentional and maintained again at last.

“Don’t now and certainly didn’t last night.  I distinctly remember. You leaned on everything and flicked your hair out of your eyes with insouciance.  When we made it to the bed you had your knees wide apart. You were inviting.”

“...oh, my God,” he said, sounding mortified. “Only toward you, I hope-”

“Only me - James, you were more attentive to me than you are sober-”

“...ah,” he said, taking a moment to process this. “I'm… sorry?”

“I’m not!”

“I would kiss you,” he said, “but I've been sick-”

“Noted,” she said, wrinkling her nose and laughing again. In truth, her headache had not fully subsided - sitting in the dimmer cabin with sunglasses on sipping unsweetened tea was not what she regularly liked to do for fun - but James feeling worse made her feel better by comparison, and it was also, more favorably, a pleasant distraction to dote on him.  

“If you’ll give me a moment to brush my teeth, I will make up for that-”

“Also noted,” she said delightedly.

James pushed himself up- it took a couple of tries- and stretched, though he had to lean on the wall for a moment.

“Perhaps I don’t need to be as abstaining as I thought,” he said, “if this is the greeting I receive the following morning.”

“On holidays, anyway,” she said gamely.

“And ashore, perhaps,” said James. “When I needn’t be on-task-”

“Oh, perhaps - I can permit that. Less than you drank yesterday, of course-”

“How much did I drink?” His voice was muffled by the toothbrush.

“Enough not to remember today, apparently,” she laughed at him.  “Enough that last night, we couldn’t…”

“That’s for the best.”

“Indeed,” she laughed. “We were about to go full speed ahead, no quondam!”

James took a mouthful of water and then pried open the window to spit.

“Thank God for the carnal failures of drunken men. I doubt I could have sustained it to begin with.”

Elizabeth got to her feet slowly, adjusting her belt in a haughty, masculine gesture, before striding across the room towards him.  Her boots brought her there quickly.  It was such a small space - intimate, one might say.

“I believe I expressed an interest in proceeding otherwise before falling asleep.  Ah, well. I am sure I had very…pleasant dreams,” said Elizabeth, leaning her back against the wall beside him, the picture of innocent intent.

James took off the sunglasses and winced, but he needed to rub his eyes. He had to flick his hair back again to do so, and made a little noise of irritation at having to, but it was more flattering falling around his face whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“A drunken man is no good in bed,” James said as he tugged on the dusty curtain covering the window.

“Seems a drunken woman is very quick to go there, regardless,” said Elizabeth promptly, smoothing his wrinkled shirt.

“At least I now know that I am still capable of socially acceptable behavior while in my cups,” James muttered.

She smiled up at him distractedly. “Indeed.”

“You enjoyed this too much,” he said, faintly alarmed.

“It was enjoyable,” she said, a hint of shyness entering her manner.  From Elizabeth, shyness was a contradictory trait; even when she visibly felt it, it did not hinder her frankness.  In some contexts it even transformed itself into courage, but as far as James was concerned, it was generally precipitous of new boldness.  Sure enough, Elizabeth glanced him over, parted her lips and said, “And I may permit you to do it again, with supervision.”

“With supervision,” James repeated.

“My supervision.”

“Your very sober supervision.”

“...not really what I had in mind.”

“I may be fresh enough for that kiss now.”

“Indeed?” the Pirate King asked, and gave it to him.

“Mm-”

He was still a little unsteady on his feet, and had to cling more than he’d planned.  Elizabeth misinterpreted this, and pulled him closer to her with a little gasp. “Oh, James-”

He kissed her one last time and added, “At least now I have the comfort of getting drunk before you jab me with your little needle, I suppose-“

Elizabeth’s hands pushed themselves up his chest to clutch his lapel and haul him back down to kiss her again.

“You do -”

“Ah-”

He kissed her, hefting her up clumsily into his arms and then staggering just enough from his lingering dizziness to have to hold her up with one arm as he flung the other behind himself to brace with, flicking his hair back again unthinkingly. The waviness that had been visible in his low year was beginning to show again, though at this length it was more of a perpetual floppy tousle.

Unable to keep upright with her in his arms, James carried her toward the bed again and sat down with a thump.

“I shall have to let you cling more in trousers today, I think, if I am to keep you up-“

“Oh, really?” she asked softly, looking him dead in the eyes as she wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened them.

James opened his mouth to say something, looking a little startled, then paused.

“You've got a bit of-”

He tugged it away, to slight resistance, and held it up to show her. It was a little wisp of false hair that had still been stuck to her cheek.

She made a face.

“How drunk was I?” he asked, looking mildly alarmed. “I can’t even place what this is-“

“Drunker than I remember seeing you,” she said with a shrug.

“All right,” he concluded. “Never mind- I shouldn't do this again just-”

“James,” she said, urgently, tightening her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.

“I’m bound to do something stupid eventually- I apologize for my laxness.”

“It was a party,” she said, not altogether displeased he didn’t remember her as Barbossa, but not altogether happy he didn’t remember curling his forefinger under her chin with an out-of-focus smirk as he kissed her in spite of that.

“I'm not losing myself in my thoughts now,” he said, trying to lean back to look at her, “if that's what you're worried about. I'm only… taking stock of things.”

“James. Come down here.”

“Yes?”

There wasn’t very much there to go down, but he did his best. Elizabeth enfolded him in her arms, pressing his face into her chest and sinking her fingers into his hair.

“Shut up.”

James groaned. “M’apologies.”

He laced his fingers into her hair from his awkward position below, realized his face was level with- pressed against!- her breasts, and quickly tried to lift himself away from them, but Elizabeth was having none of it.

“Stay here,” she said firmly.  “At least until your Advil’s kicked in.”

“Lisbet, this is a rather compromising position-”

“Hmm?” she asked wryly, scruffling his hair.

“My face is in your-”

She tilted his chin up with her fingertips.

“Better now?”

He looked a little dazed as he leaned his cheek on her shoulder instead.

“You don't have to stay here.”

“Low wind today, plus two other captains on board without hangovers.”  Elizabeth paused. “At least, I don’t think Teague’s hungover.  I know he drank last night, but - does it make any difference to him, at this point?  And you know how Barbossa is.  Well, the point is, I don’t have a lot else to do, and the sun is really bright.”

“Saving our strength for the cave. That's what we'll call it.”

She snorted.

“Everyone knows we’re hungover, Captain Norrington.”

“You as well?”

“Yeah?”

“I assumed you hid it around the rest of them, and didn't go running for a gunport for fear you couldn't open the window in time.”

“No, I didn’t make it to a gunport,” she grimaced.  “You slept right through it.  Cleaned it up myself, though.  I don’t try to make it out like I’m better’n anyone else is.”

“I could have helped you with that, if I were not so drunk myself,” he said. “Whatever you're doing with my hair, don't stop-”

Even in the midst of the hangover, the humidity, the headache, her heart melted.

“Oh, James,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes?” he asked, leaning into her touch. “I could hold you instead if you'd prefer-”

“No,” she said, helpless, “it’s just… you’re so…. not-you.”

“Hungover? Unfortunately, that's very me.”

She let it rest there.

“Regardless, I think I ought to hold you a little longer.”

“I'll permit it.”

He allowed himself to lean against her without holding himself back at last, with a sigh.  Elizabeth abruptly shifted, changing her mind- preferring to lean back on the bedspread again, with James resting against her that way.  But soon they had returned to a dreamy state of idleness, Elizabeth coddling him and smiling up at the ceiling half-wittedly.

“How is your ex-husband managing,” James asked softly.

“Sober and fairly well pleased with himself,” she said, more shortly than she meant to.

“Ah,” said James. “I hope he has not given you any trouble-?”

“No.”

“Ah. Good; we last spoke under… difficult terms.”

He paused.

“A running theme, it would seem. No matter; I'm glad enough knowing you're mine now.”

She smiled, perhaps a bit begrudgingly, but it helped her unwind nonetheless.  It was only then she realized how tense she’d become and let out a short bark of laughter.

“Forgive me, I’m… I wish he weren’t on this voyage,” she admitted.  “It’s difficult… knowing he’s here.”

“Presumably this will be the end of it. I do owe him some reconciliation with his father. I promised him that much, and I prefer keeping my word.”

“Yes, I know,” she said distantly.  

“My God,” he said distantly. “I was so far beyond hope that you would ever choose me over him, and yet…”

She ruffled his hair - perhaps a little bit sadly.

“Watching you,” James murmured, “in the heat- in your trousers, without a coat- without so much as jumps, at that-”

“What, sweating?” she said flatly.

“Perhaps a little,” he said. “It makes you glisten.”

“What about it?” she asked, mystified.

“It is intensely attractive.”

She laughed, startled, and then she sighed, loudly, fondly, his name.

“Your hair fanning behind you,” he added. “It reminds me of how fortunate I am.”

She’d been going to tease him about his preference for boys, real or imagined, before he said that.  Not only did she no longer have an opening for such a joke, she no longer had the heart for it.  Elizabeth rubbed the back of his neck.

Tenderly, she prompted, “Fortunate?”

“To be the man with whom you have chosen to spend your life,” he said. “To say nothing of having the privilege of watching you strut about the deck like that and knowing I may take you to bed later-”

“James!” she gasped, in delighted shock. “That’s very forward of you - I approve.”

“I can only imagine most men prefer their wives in skirts so as to avoid being unduly preoccupied by them otherwise,” James said dryly.

“And do you find yourself unduly preoccupied by me?” she asked, perhaps too giddy.

“Often,” said James. “Too often by far-”

She bit her lip and smirked up at the ceiling.

“You don't know the effect you can have on a man, Lisbet,” said James, in a faraway sort of tone. “Every inch of you. There was a moment some weeks ago when you had tucked your hair under your hat and I found myself held at a disadvantage by the back of your neck.”

That knocked the smirk off her face.  Instead of pride, she found her immediate reaction was disbelief.  And this from her dull suitor of only a few years ago - reconciling this confession with that was a bit much to overcome.

“My- really? My neck?” she asked, gracelessly.

“That one, I confess, is not new- not with how often your hair was done away from it in Port Royal,” he conceded. “I suppose it was the reminder of that.”

“When did that start?” she pressed on, still bewildered. “It’s not a feature that changes with maturity.”

“I seem to recall it around the time I had begun to love everything about you,” he said, rather simply.

It would do very little good to dwell on it - she had already gone over why countless times - and at this point James seemed to wince every time it came up that she wished she had noticed the sincerity - the severity - of his affection sooner.  But Christ!

“Well, it’s all yours now,” she said, even if she could not fully understand what allure the back of the neck could possibly have - she still understood that if a smallish thing like that could provoke him then he must want her very much indeed.

“I think,” he said slowly, eyes shut,  “it was the thought of being permitted to touch it, and the intimacy such an act would entail.”

Elizabeth dislodged him only very slowly as she sat up, only to look down at him a long moment, tracing her fingertip over his lips.

“...Would you like to?”

“Lisbet,” he began, embarrassed. “It's not- I was merely struck by the memory while watching you storm about the place in an unlaced shirt and trousers-”

“Well, if you want to - I think I’d like it,” she said hesitantly.

James sat up with some difficulty, flinching against the sunlight as he opened his eyes again. Elizabeth's hair was down at the moment, but that only added to the sensation as he pushed his hand under it to rest at the back of her neck, as lightly as an insect on a leaf.

“...like this,” he said softly.

Elizabeth parted her lips, and her eyes widened just slightly - but she could not speak for a moment.  When she found it in her to move, she leaned in and rested her head, tremulously, on his shoulder. James threaded his fingers through her hair.

“I couldn't bear to dwell on this-”

“- because I had made you no promise,” she surmised.

Elizabeth released a breath she had not known she was holding.  

“I am so relieved that things fell into place such that I did not lose out on this. On… you,” she confessed, and pressed her face into the area between his neck and shoulder, her arm creeping around his back to embrace him. He put both arms around her and held tight.

“I wish I could make this sound like anything but the lowest of lust-”

“It doesn’t,” Elizabeth snorted.  “That’s - God help me, that was what I was experiencing concurrently.  Thinking about a blacksmith’s toned arms,” she   deadpanned.  “I do know that what I had with Will was real… eventually.  At that point, it was nothing more than a daydream about a boy I barely knew.  At least… at least you knew me.”

“I thought I did, at least,” he said, with a sad smile. He kissed her temple through her hair.

“Enough to know you should like to know me better,” she amended.

“Well,” he said, “now I do. I suppose it ended as well as it could have?”

“As my dog, you mean? You seem to handle it well-”

There might have been a pun in that.

“Elizabeth,” said James. “I scarcely know what I'm speaking of- I would have always- I cannot imagine not loving you, regardless of everything else-”

Elizabeth barely bit back a smile, touching his face as though hesitant to actually lay her hand on him - as though it would pass right through him.

“Oh, well then.”

“I hope that's not overmuch-”

“Hardly, but I don’t know what provoked it-”

“I rather dwell on the thought.”

She laid her hand on his rough cheek, brushing her thumb back and forth affectionately.

“...more than I care to admit,” he said, without looking at her.

“Because I am less amenable than you would like?” she asked, following his gaze, and cupping his face in her hands, leaning in to give him a kiss in apology.

“No- no, you’ve done nothing wrong-” James protested, lowering his eyes, flustered.  Elizabeth laughed against his lips, deepening the kiss - she loved when he got like this.

“I tell you I don’t dwell on this - not like you do. But it rests at the back of my mind, like - “

She slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him again, her fingers gently pressing the crown of his head.

“- like a pressure, and then I give it some mind, and it becomes-”

She gripped his hair - slowly, and not enough that it could pain him, but certainly enough to be felt.

“-overpowering-”

“Elizabeth-”

“I’ll just look across the deck, and see the faint glimmer of red in your hair, and take note of the figure you cut, and it will all hit me at once,” Elizabeth confided, her lips against his, but not yet kissing him, and with her hand as it was, he couldn’t lean in to do it himself.  “That man is mine.  To do with as I please.  As it pleases him.”

She cupped the back of his head as she kissed him. James gasped against her lips, closing his eyes again.

“...red?” he repeated faintly. It was just about the only thing he could seize on that wasn’t going to exacerbate the situation beginning to happen down below. The alcohol was clearly no longer that present in his system.

“Mm, yes. So strange; you have such dark hair.  It’s really lovely, you know.  And it’s grown out almost curling,” she said, wrapping a lock around her finger possessively, adoringly.

“It- yes,” he said awkwardly, trying to keep on a safe topic. “It always has- I suppose it merely doesn’t show after a certain point. Er, thank you-”

Her fingers moved to his chin and glided down his throat in continued approval.  “I suppose I do not like it as you like mine - I can think of no one in the world who has liked anything, the way you seem to like my hair - but my word, James.  That wig did your cause more damage than you have caused any buccaneer in the Caribbean.  I have so much lost time to account for, and I shall begin by recognizing your beauty - you are beautiful, James.  Moreso now I can be prideful to have you, too-”

“I- thank you,” he said again. “It’s- well, had we married, I certainly would not have worn the damned thing in private-”

“Yes, I can only imagine now we are as good as married what it would have been like: very different to my expectations.  And if you had touched the back of my neck as you do now,” she said, with a mean twinkle in her eyes, “or certainly if you had ever put your hands in my hair as you are wont, I would have fallen desperately in love with you, and lived happily ever after.”

“I can only hope I would have,” he said, taking a handful of her hair as he said so and bringing it to his lips to kiss its length.

She shivered.

“I don’t understand. I don’t feel that, and yet…”

“It is not… conditional on your hair- I hope that much is clear-”

“It is, but -”  Elizabeth bit her lip, genuinely conflicted. “Is it strange, though - is it wrong, that the way you like it… affects me?”

James stopped mid-kiss.

“...it affects you?”

“Yes,” she said, self-conscious.

“...ah,” James said awkwardly. “I hope that’s acceptable-”

“Why wouldn’t it be?  I merely want to know if you think it’s wrong- or unusual-”

“I don’t- why would I?”

“You know rather a lot more about relations between men and women than I do -”

“I don’t find it perverse, if that’s what you fear-”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “Weird, at most-”

“I’ve seen weirder,” he said flatly.

“No doubt, in the King’s navy,” she said, holding his chin fondly, and kissing him. James finally laughed again and returned it.

“No, darling, I don’t think there’s anything too odd about it. My only concern is that you find my affections shallow.”

“Less so than my own, I assure you,” said Elizabeth, pulling his shirt open.

“Mm- I shall do my utmost to avoid any permanent injuries, then.”

She ran her hand liberally over his chest, then leaned in to kiss his collarbone.  “Touch my hair again,” she murmured.

James obediently began pushing his fingers through it with a light laugh. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good boy-”

“Elizabeth.”

“I can’t resist that any more than you can resist me.”

He nuzzled into her hair. “Duly noted.”

She let out a sharp sigh.

“Oh, this does wonders for what remains of my misery,” she said contentedly.  “Being here with you.  Though I am sure being more hydrated helps.  How are you feeling, by the way?”

“This is a wonderful distraction,” he said, though his eyes were still closed. “I shall manage.”

“Or be managed, as the case may be.  As the case is, I should say.”  

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes, love?”

“You understand that your physical charms are not all that has gained my interest, I hope?”

“I certainly never imagined so,” said Elizabeth, with the full knowledge that she had been taller and lankier and considerably longer in the chin than most women who were considered beautiful would be.  Besides, she had very little bosom to speak of.  “I can only assume you were bewitched by the idea of a bride who wouldn’t obey a single thing you said.”

James ignored that last jab. “Very well. As long as you understand that I am… aware of the difficulties of this life, and the damages it may inflict-”

“Yes, yes,” she said dismissively. “You’re so morbid, James.”

“You have reminded me often enough that we may not survive this voyage,” said James. “I have reminded myself in turn that there are worse things than that that can befall one at sea.”

“We’ll just have to appreciate each other as though there is no tomorrow,” she said, smiling.

James kissed her again, making a proprietary fist in her hair as he did.

“Good,” he said firmly. “I would hate for you to have runaway ideas about my losing interest in you were you to be without this due to some mishap or another, and that’s only one example.”

“I don’t, but do you really have to speculate on it?” she groaned.  It was not a noise to indicate desire for once.

“It tends to occupy the background of one’s thoughts while thinking of marriage,” James retorted.

“Mutilation does? Are you certain? Are you really very certain?”

“In the Navy it certainly does!”

“Surely not one’s wife’s mutilation, though,” she said dubiously.

“If one is to take her to sea, it's a matter which must unfortunately be weighed. Mrs. Fenton had a halt in her step for some time, though I understand she eventually recovered-”

“Don’t you think,” she baited him, “that you should have given me some notion of that before you married me?  Not a word during our engagement.  Why, you would have had me under false pretences.”

“I would have offered you the chance to stay home,” said James, “and full awareness of the risks. But I also intended to surprise you with the offer to accompany me to sea-“

“An offer I would have gladly accepted - rather more gladly than I had the man who made it,” said Elizabeth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders much like a happy wife would.

“I’m flattered,” James said dryly.

“Who knew that underneath it all, you had such....” Her eyes moved from his, almost unconsciously, down to his bared chest and throat, and she wetted her lips, and looked at him again, and gave a small, helpless shrug.  “-character.”

“Thank you,” he said, even more flatly.

“How glad I am I got to know you better after all,” said Elizabeth, rubbing her hand along his chest once more and dipping a finger between his pectoral muscles with approval. James followed her finger down with his eyes.

“Are you- all right, I shall accept a compliment where I can find it, but God, if it's not a little overwhelming.”

“What, pray tell, do you mean,” asked Elizabeth, her own eyes also following the trespasses of her fingers, as they now strayed over the full expanse of his chest.  Her touches were light, but purposeful and possessive.

“For you to have cared so little, and not too long ago, to this- it’s rather a lot-“

“Oh, James,” she said, eyes meeting his abruptly with a wince of guilt.

James lay his hand against her cheek.

“Forgive me, that was- unnecessarily harsh.”

“Not so harsh as fate’s been to you,” she said, cupping her hand over his and turning her face to kiss his palm.  “I do care for you now - I cared for you before, just not as you hoped.”

She mulled over her thoughts only a moment before committing to what it came to her mind to say. “I love you.”

“It certainly took you long enough,” James said, though not unwarmly or accusingly.

He kissed her. “I love you, too.”

Elizabeth frowned into the kiss, but did not end it - kissed back, harder, as though it were a competition. “I - did not realize - it was a matter of any - urgency-”

“I pride myself on punctuality,” said James.

“And I on my free spirit-”

“All right, I grant you that-”

“I do not need your permission for it,” she practically sneered, but something in her tone of voice was hungry and pleading regardless. “Grant me something else-”

Small wonder what else she could want.

“We still haven’t any quondams, Lisbet,” he reminded her. It was rather a pity; release was good for a headache.

“Let me have it anyway,” she commanded, tossing her hair while gripping his. In spite of the roughness with which she handled him, she never really forgot herself - Elizabeth was always careful to not yank his hair.  If the firmness of her grip startled him, it would at least never hurt.  “I want you in my mouth.”

James stared at her, momentarily deprived of speech.

“...I’m… amenable,” he said, eyes still widened, his whole body bowstring-tense.

She took his hands in hers then, guiding one to her mouth and the other to the crotch of his trousers.  She teasingly took the tips of his fingers between her lips, while her other hand entwined their fingers and rubbed at his groin.

“All right- all right, I'm awake now-”

“Still amenable, darling?”

“You make a strong case-”

“Mm. Awake indeed, my love,” she said, her face lighting up.  “Now… To begin with, I’ll want you to take your shirt off.”

It wasn't hard; his shirt was already mostly open. James did not break eye contact with her as he chucked it aside.

“All right.”

Elizabeth released his hands and reached out for him, burying her face against his chest for a moment and breathing him in.  He smelled of sour sweat and spilled rum, but other, more pleasant odors took over for her - the spices of the rum, the taste of salt, the familiar scent of his skin.  She kissed him, and then she bit him - then she pulled back to assess that she had done him no wrong.

“What was that?”

He was, to be fair, more bemused than anything.

“Does that heighten your enjoyment?”

“...not particularly,” he admitted, “though it scarcely retracted from it either-”

“Pity - it does mine,” said Elizabeth, trying a different approach - she resumed her kisses, but more slowly, and more gently; and then after a time, introduced the application of her tongue.

“I don’t know how you can do that,” he said, watching her with a sort of detached lordliness. “I expect I must taste foul after last night.”

“I like your taste.”

“Perhaps I shall let you wash me when you’re done,” he said, leaning back and shutting his burning eyes again.

“Oho, I did not offer to-”

“Maybe I am telling you to,” said James.

“Sorry, what’s that, dog?”

“I cannot be blamed for trying.”

“Mm.”  The censure of her kisses was mild, at least.  She did consider withdrawing to tease him, but she didn’t particularly want to deny herself just because he was being disobedient.  She would have to show him that being in her power was too enjoyable to give up.

“Mm what-”

“James, you are not being appreciative.”

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking I did not notice your enjoyment of having the tables turned against you the last time I held you down to the bed.”

“Yes, you’re a big strong man, I know,” she said dryly.

“I might do it again later,” he retorted, beginning to smile vaguely with his eyes still closed.

“Are you planning on acting bored then, too?” asked Elizabeth, her patience starting to fray.

“I never claimed to be bored,” said James, as he blindly felt along her arm and back until he had found her neck and could slip his fingers across the back of it. “In fact, I am enjoying myself a great deal at the moment.”

That made up for it for the time being.  After a little more dallying, Elizabeth moved downward.

James tensed and opened his eyes.

His breathing heavy but even, he moved his hand upward to grasp at her hair.

“I think,” he said, “that I may have to provide you with some direction.”

Elizabeth gasped.

“James!”

“I rather thought your majesty liked this-“

“She’s - amenable -”

“Ah. Good for her, then. Continue-“

“May I undress you?”

“Yes- yes, please-“

“Please?”

“Yes-“

“That all? You don’t seem to want it much-”

“I’m a little distracted-“

“By what, pray tell?” asked Elizabeth, as she freed him from his trousers.  “Mm, imagine how I should have gasped to see this once.”

“With- delight, one can only hope-“

Elizabeth, heedless of his hand in her hair, came up to nose at his throat, her friendliness in this manner softening the heartlessness of her teasing.

“Commodore Norrington, it’s enormous-”

“Elizabeth!” James blurted, covering his face with his free arm.

Elizabeth laughed and pulled him sweetly down to her, running her fingers through his hair and kissing the top of his head.

“Elizabeth- what in God’s name was that-“

“Realism.”

“Oh my God-“

She slid her hand down between his thighs again.  “It really is, too, you know,” she said conversationally.  

“Is this- you don’t go telling others anything about this, do you-“

“Our secret.”  She kissed him, while at the same time giving him a squeeze.

“Oh my God-“

James involuntarily released her hair. She made a noise of surprised displeasure, and he grabbed at it again in a scrambling hurry.

“If we are to do this, I need to tell you where to go-“

“What, have I been doing it wrong,” she said dubiously.

“No, it’s- I was put off. I lost my train of thought-“

Elizabeth kissed him on the throat and continued touching him, trying to coax him into remembering.

“...squeezing will do that, you know,” James added, a little crossly.

“Pardon me my eagerness to touch you, Captain Norrington,” said Elizabeth - herself out of breath now.  “You must know how you linger in my thoughts, distract me with longing-”

“A welcome change of affairs, to be certain-”

He regained his grip and tightened it.

“Strange and - unexpectedly -” she managed, before giving up on conversation altogether - having one’s hair pulled will do that.  

“I shall have to ensure my place in them, then, will I not?”

She groaned.

“There are a lot of places I’d like to have you in -”

“Most pertinently, your mouth-”

“And you?” she implored, beginning her earlier attentions again - more slowly than earlier, so as to not get him off track again.  “Do you want to put yourself there?”

“I,” said James, “would be satisfied to put you there myself-”

Elizabeth’s mouth opened of its own accord - not as a reaction to the conversation at hand, but out of dimly interested shock. Something in her brain slowed and stopped processing information when James said filthy things.

“And I do seem to have a good handle with which to direct you, rather than trying to speak on it-”

Elizabeth thought about another smart-ass remark; she was the Pirate King, a pirate lord and captain well beyond simply being voted into the position by men who had wanted to fuck her.  Scourge of the Caribbean or no, James Norrington had better respect her or else.  But her mouth seemed to have some trouble in catching up with her thoughts; she was too tongue-tied for a single comeback.

It was not like Elizabeth to be flustered.  That in and of itself was worth some analysis, and she thought suddenly of what he had said a moment ago about turning the tables.  

Damn him, he wasn’t wrong.

Finally she managed to half-stammer out a reply.  “I’ll - I’ll permit that.”

“Do you desire it, or merely permit it?” James asked. “I would hardly see you forced.”

She grit her teeth for a moment, but he had but to tilt his hand in her hair just slightly enough for her to feel the tug for her to open her mouth again.

“I want it - James, direct me-”

“...Elizabeth,” he began, “are you certain-”

Elizabeth laid her hand on his chest and met his eyes.  Words came to her, but left just as quickly.  Instead she nodded emphatically. James was immediately struck by a pang of regret.

“Mm,” he said. “Come up here and kiss me first. I would rather you here than there to begin with.”

“I’ve no doubt,” she snorted, though she wasted no time in entwining her arms around his shoulders.  “I am trying to acclimate you.”

“If you insist on going down there, I’d prefer to have a degree of control,” James retorted, leaning back to embrace her properly and kiss her.

“We’ve established I don’t mind that-”

“I’ve noticed.” He looked rather amused by this, in fact.

“Do you remember- in Tortuga, you said to me, early on, ‘You don’t have to be the Pirate King in here,’” said Elizabeth distantly.

“Mm. Yes, I think so-”

“It seems,” she said, with the utmost seriousness, “that you really meant it.”

“What does that mean-”

“Did you want a degree of control?”

“I try not to think of it.”

“Usually, from you,” she said cannily, “that means you do want it.”

“I mean,” he said, with a laugh as he looked at her, “that I try not to think of any of it at all. It’s bothersome at best-”

“You’re so boring, James,” she complained, pushing her aggrieved fingers through his wavy hair.  “I think about it as often as I can spare. It’s such a welcome reprieve from the chores of daily life.”

“Ah- keep doing that. In any case, I suppose you don’t find it a chore in itself-”

“What, basket-making? Don’t be absurd.”

“We have not yet made any baskets,” James groused, “and I expect you will find that more of a chore than you think when the option arrives.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” said Elizabeth, pressing their bodies still more closely together. “When we’ve been together and you are near me like this I think I am going to pass out from how much I want to have you in me.”

James grit his teeth and gasped.

“The feeling is mutual-”

“Besides - if I need finishing,” she baited him, a smile hovering over her lips, “you’ll finish me, won’t you?”

“Yes-”

He had turned his face away from hers.

Elizabeth gently tugged where her hand was still in his hair.

“James. What is it? What’s the matter.”

“Nothing is the matter,” he said. “I'm a bit sore, that's all. Don't worry about me, please. Last night must have been rather a lot-”

“Changing the subject away from intercourse, when we were just about to have it - that’s a matter all right.”

“Am I not allowed to wish to treasure you a little first-”

“I feel a little oppressed by your treasuring,” said Elizabeth testily.  “It begins to sound like excuses.”

“If it's an inability you fear,” said James, “I would have thought you noticed that my body is more than prepared for such an activity-”

“A reluctance of the spirit,” she said.  She longed to touch him again, but forced herself to keep her hands well above his waist until she had ascertained the truth of his discomfort; she could not force him.

James noticed this, and gently- almost apologetically- took her hand by the wrist and moved it downward.

“I would rather look you in the eye.”

“Going to be somewhat difficult, don’t you think?”

“Then that's the matter.”

Elizabeth withdrew her hand in some reluctance, but she did not feel comfortable floating through this activity unbothered; there were things that had to be addressed, first of all, and she was perplexed by his seeming dislike of her seeing to his pleasure - which, in being denied opportunity to do so, had become more of an object to her recently than achieving her own, which was a feat in and of itself.

“James,” she said plaintively.

“If you insist on it,” he said, taking hold of her hair again, “then get back down there, and we’ll have done for it.”

“Not if you’re going to behave like this about it -”  Elizabeth bit her lip and twisted a little in his grasp, her emotional turmoil making her physically restless.  “At least tell me why you don’t like it-”

“I've told you,” he said. “I prefer bringing you off, that's all.”

“It ruins my pleasure to have you forsake yours,” said Elizabeth coaxingly.  “You enjoy it, why can’t I?”

“Elizabeth,” he said.”It's only a preference. Please don't trouble yourself about it-”

“Well, it’s a burden to me,” she said, pulling a face.  “I want to make you want me… I want to overwhelm you as you do me.”

“I do not wish to be overwhelmed,” he said, after a long pause. “It's uncomfortably like being drunk.”

Elizabeth looked unbearably cranky.

“You like being drunk,” she said peevishly.

“Only in the moment,” he shot back.

“You seem to like the anticipation of it, too, but not this.”  It was clear her mood had taken a turn for the foul, and a sharp one at that, since she had moments ago been dewy-eyed and leaning on him.  Now her posture was stiff and her movements all harsh. Her hand was still in his hair, but it rested there unmoving as stone.

“I don't know about that. I drank a great deal last night and am all the worse for it today, as evidenced by the grabbing you by the hair and dragging you downward like some kind of beast-”

“I think I would have remembered if that had happened-”

“You fell silent- I feared I had hurt you, frightened you in some way-”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Elizabeth cried out, unwilling to hide her disgust with this new inanity - she pulled her hands away from him with a swiftness that bordered on cruelty, even though she did not hurt him in any way.

James, for his part, did not move- only watched her.

“If you insist,” he said, more than a little peevishly at this point, “then you may get down there and handle the matter yourself. That's what you want, isn't it-”

“No, it’s not,” she said heatedly.  “I just want -”

She cut herself off from speaking any further on that subject, and glared at him fiercely.

James sat up and watched her for a moment, waiting for her to say something. He was still at attention, and felt unspeakably grotesque for it. He tried to conceal it by tilting his hips to one side and pulling up the covers.

“I know what I want,” he said, “but I am disgusted by my wanting it. With myself, most of all.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged.  She was trying to keep up her anger, but, as was typical from her, as soon as the opportunity came to put it aside, she couldn’t help it.

“Why? That’s - that’s all I want from you.  I just want to be wanted.”

“I do want you- I've even told you how-”

“Every time I indicate how much I want to attend to you, you reject me-”

“I don't want to be rendered helpless, Elizabeth-”

“I thought that was the entire point of your directing me!”

“That's different- that's- good God, Elizabeth, I don't want to-”

He took a deep breath to steady himself before he said something he would regret.

Like the suggestion that her husband was still on board if she'd prefer.

“I don't derive the pleasure from that you expect me to,” James said, in a carefully even voice. “I struggle to maintain the personal desire for it even as my body makes a crude show of it. Directing you felt as though I might be able to pull you off when I chose- make it a game- and instead you seemed so shocked and compliant that I felt ashamed of having desired it at all. If that's what you desire, then I will have you back down there before you leave this room again, and try not to regret my enjoyment if I do- but at least permit me my concern, especially after the discovery that I am far less prudent when drunk.”

He laughed bitterly. “I apologize if that makes me defective to you in some way.”

“It does,” she said shortly.

“I thought I had frightened you.”

Elizabeth was warring with her own desire to fling into his face that this was the very reason she had not wanted to marry him - something she had anticipated enjoying with Will - but at that all meanness fled, leaving her without much energy, but considerably less ill will.

Miserably, she said, “You hadn’t.”

“Your face went so blank, so slack- I thought you were resigned, at best.”

She put her arms around his shoulders again, shakily.  “I was aroused, you colossal idiot.”

“That isn't how you are usually inclined towards showing it-”

“My brain just…”

She made a little twisting gesture with her fingers.

“- turned off, like a phone.”

“In a good way, I hope-”

“In a very good way-”

“-ah.”

He paused.

“Do you still want to try-”

“Do you? You’ve just explained to me you feel no personal desire for me-”

“You misunderstood me- good God, I want you to the point of preoccupation-”

“But you don’t want to.”

“Elizabeth?”

She tossed her hair, tilting her head to meet his eyes confrontationally.

“...you don't suppose I could have a go between your thighs, do you? I can't guarantee it will be of much use to you, but unfortunately, what I would most prefer is impossible at the moment.”

“Why is that so much preferable to what I wanted?”

“I can look at you, for one,” said James.

Elizabeth tried to give him a frank look, but a smile broke through regardless.  A little embarrassed, she managed only, “Oh?”

“Rather more personal than shoving you down between my legs, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Will you forget it’s me if you can’t look into my eyes? I’m curious-”

“I prefer sharing the moment, that’s all.”

“Fine,” said Elizabeth, perhaps touchily, and perhaps also to hide her smile.  “May I get you started, though?”

“Yes,” he said, “though you'll find I'm rather far along-”

“What, even through this conversation,” said Elizabeth dubiously, moving her hand to between his legs again.  The same slack expression of surprise came into her face.  

“It's been rather trying,” James said flatly.

“So why do you still-” she started, even as she started on him with her hand - gently at first, but still having to shut her eyes.

“-yes?”

He was not entirely comfortable with this, but kept his face carefully blank lest she opened her eyes and got a good look at him again. It was worth it for her sake.

“Mm- why are you still…? Nevermind,” she said, biting her lip and smiling as she looked up at him again.  This was what he’d said he wanted - to look at her.

“Dulling it takes time,” James said vaguely.

“So that’s why the sailor prefers to roll over and go to sleep, rather than fantasize about the girl he left behind,” she teased him.  Her touch remained gentle - she wanted to feel him desperately, but she did not want to help him too far along, if he were going to go between her legs again.

“Now you begin to understand-“

“But you don’t have to dull it anymore, James,” she whispered, nearly kissing him.  “You have me now.  Let me take care of you.”

“Don’t- Elizabeth-“

He began to laugh, embarrassed, and covered his face.

Elizabeth put both of her arms around him now, but more vexed than truly comforting.  “What is it-”

“It’s nothing-“

“Nothing? You can’t look me in the eye-”

“You’ve got me at a disadvantage.”

“What’s that, that you’re aroused?  I would hate to be the one to inform you, but so am I-”

“I know-“

He looked at her, bleary-eyed and grinning.

“Good heavens, it’s not so much, Elizabeth- you needn’t think of it as taking care of me.”

“My sweet Captain,” said Elizabeth, matching his grin, “I don’t. I think of it is as fucking you, and I love it.”

“You haven’t yet,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “We haven’t the necessary equipment for that yet, either-“

“You don’t think this is - ? You cannot be serious.  What is it between men, then - on an equivalency to hand-holding?”

“You’ll have to ask Theo about that one. I wouldn’t know; I was not in the habit of regular conversation with anyone with whom- well.”

“This was what I feared, when we were engaged,” Elizabeth finally blurted, after a long while of holding her tongue, even when she had been angrier.  “That my instinct proved correct, and you were about as erotic as a dead fish.”

“Elizabeth,” he said, “you’re lucky I had the sense to avoid getting you with child.”

“You don’t even want to let me take your cock into my mouth,” she argued.

He lifted his head in alarm at her language but chose not to comment on it.

“What am I supposed to do, rut you senseless like it’s two years ago in Tortuga all over again-“

“I just want you to be senseless every so often,” she said wistfully. “To be overwhelmed and to like it.  I want to be - happy together.”

“I’m already happy,” he said, a little woundedly.

“I want you to be happy in our bed as well as out of it,” she retorted.  “Not that I have ever seen you happy outside of this cabin-”

“I am happy in our bed-”

“You are tense and nervous and disgruntled in our bed.”

“Presently, I’m still at attention in our bed,” he said dryly.

“And the reason why you are still at attention instead of sated and lazy is because you feel no personal desire that you have not tried to stifle-”

“Believe me,” he said heavily, “my desire is feeling extremely unsatisfied at present.”

“Put your hand back in my hair.”

“Elizabeth?”

“You heard me.”

After a moment, though, she pressed a hand to his chest, urgently.

“I don’t mean it. I mean, I do mean it, but - there are no consequences if you don’t wish to do it-”

James grabbed her hair in his fist and yanked her downward.

Elizabeth gasped, but came to her senses almost immediately - enough to recall his comfort before seeing to her own, though she was reluctant to wait.

“May I, then-”

“I’m not asking you to talk-”

She needed little encouragement after that.  She had wanted him greedily and unreasonably since they had been drunk the night before, and being given the opportunity, she did not plan to squander it- not that James gave her much room to do so. He held her body in place with one leg and her head between his hands, her hair still clenched in one of them, as he urged her along in silence punctuated by the rare gasp or word of approval.

If he supposed he could have no means of ascertaining her enjoyment, he did not count on how greatly she would enjoy it.  Elizabeth clutched at his hips and his thighs enough to leave a few bruises, and she moaned her delight - not intentionally, but because she could not help herself.  If this was what James called ‘using her’, he was permitted to do so as often as he liked.

James lifted his hand to pry hers away.

“I did not ask you for- nnn- that-”

It was difficult to get a grip on him that both of them were satisfied with, but the negotiation was worthwhile. When it was finished, James silently released her hair and let his hands fall to his sides.

Elizabeth was ungraciously wiping her mouth on the back of her wrist, but she looked starry-eyed when she gazed back up at him.

“Well?”

“Nn. Give me a moment, I'm rather spent.”

“I should know.”

“Were it not for the delay, I would drag you back down there this instant.”

Elizabeth flopped back against the pillow, looking up at him smugly.

“And did you feel so very helpless, Captain?”

“Not particularly,” he said, looking up toward the ceiling.

“Come down here and thank me,” Elizabeth purred.

“No- you're going to come up here,” he said firmly, with another tug for emphasis.  She sat up, stretching her arms above her head.  It was fairly clear that, amenable though she was, she was as easy to control now as the weather.

“Go on, then.”

James pulled her down and kissed her possessively, tightening his grip on her hair to push her mouth to his.

“Is this what you want?”

“Can’t say I mind-” she breathed.

“That will do.”

He turned her down into the cot beneath him.

“James,” she murmured into his mouth, though she took her sweet time in finishing her thought, “Kiss me on my neck again, please?”

He did not object to this- in fact, he set to his task with relish.

“Remove my shirt-” Elizabeth moaned, tilting her head back and lifting her arms to help him.

“I'm working on it-”

“Take your time,” she said idly.  She shivered when the shirt came up over her head, though not from cold. She touched him on the chest a lingering moment, as though contemplating his body, and then sank silently into his arms, burying her face against him, just holding him close.

James dragged her up for another kiss. She returned it tenderly, sinking her fingers into his hair.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” she asked wonderingly, meeting his eyes.  “Really mine.”

“...likewise,” he said softly, “yes?”

“Entirely, I think.  I don’t understand it myself.”

“You've mentioned that,” he said, a little desperately.

“I want no man but you.  I don’t even want a woman.  If the thought appeals to me in the abstract, it is not really serious enough to detract from wanting you.  And I barely feel guilt over it.  Even when I think that I should, I can’t persuade myself to.  I simply want you, over and over again.  In bed and in battle and on a beach some day, when it is not raining.  And I think something else, too.”

“What else do you think of?” James asked softly.

“I think we were always meant to be together,” she confessed.

“I don't- I'm not certain that's how it works,” said James. “I believe that in some way I was destined to love you, but I do not believe that you were always meant to return it.”

“I do. I was,” she insisted.  “Everything that’s happened has thrown us together in the most unlikely way - as though fate were determined to have us together.”

James watched her for a moment, as though waiting for her to begin laughing

When she didn't, he kissed her again- joyfully this time, with a surprised cry of happiness.  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him tightly, returning the kiss with near biting enthusiasm.  

The topic was important to her - it was how she had always felt about Will, and perhaps the transfer of this belief from Will to James had assuaged much of her guilt about choosing the latter, as well as whatever twinges of the emotion she had when she thought of Jenny or Angelica a little too long.  But, most of all, it was important to believe that James - and her father - had not been wrong to hope for this union, and had pursued it for nothing.  She wanted to believe her father would be happy to see them together at last, and to bring order to a life which had been uprooted in every way - both his and her own.  

But it did seem likely - the way they had fallen in love in Tortuga, the way she had come to save his life, as though directed by a higher power, was surely not usual.  The fact that they had been engaged at a point where it might have been a disastrous ill match, but had been thrown together again at a point where they could meet as something closer to equals (and if not equals, when Elizabeth, not James, was the more powerful of the two) - these things could not be an accident.  If she had married James then, not only would she have been unhappy, but she would have made him miserable - and Will would never have had a chance to be reunited with his father.  No, everything had surely happened as it must - and now she was with the man she was meant to be with, her soul-mate, the man her dearly beloved father had chosen for her future happiness, because he had waited for her, and proven his love by waiting, as she had proven her worth by becoming a pirate lord in the meantime, and recognized his by choosing him.

“Elizabeth,” he said, clasping her hands in his. “Elizabeth…”

It wrenched her sharply out of her fantasy to see the naked joy on his face and feel guilt at it, even now.

“Yes, James?”

“It's nothing- please, just let me say it-”

“Say whatever you like,” she murmured.

“-just Elizabeth,” he said softly, before kissing her again.

Elizabeth toppled them both backwards, all the better to let him feel the weight of her and know she was his own. James groaned a little- his headache had not yet dissipated- but he began to laugh anyway.

“Careful-”

“I’m always careful,” she said, affronted.

James mmmmed loudly but let the matter rest. He pushed his hands back into her hair with a pensive smile.  Elizabeth ended up rolling off him and pulling him to his side so that she could continue to kiss him more comfortably.  She had no aim, no finish in mind; the matter was less obvious for her than it was for a man; she just wanted nothing more than to hold him very close and to kiss him as though she could drink him in, and wanted to be drunk.

“My apologies for the undoglike behavior,” he laughed against her lips. “Is this- would you like more of this?”

“More of your mouth, more of your kisses-? Of course-”

“More of my force-“

“More of your enthusiasm, to be certain. The forcefulness - well, it is a fun sort of game, really.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I am your Captain, am I not?”

“I certainly don’t expect you to carry on like this before the crew.”

“Mm, I like you to be a man with me, James, but not a master,” she said fondly, before gripping his hair tightly again. “I may not be a man, but I am your master. There should only be one of each, between the two of us, I think.”

“Ah- all right, noted-“

She took advantage of her grip on him by kissing his bared throat.

“You know,” James began, gazing up at the ceiling again, “on consideration I find myself less opposed to the idea of that swan tattoo-“

“Yeah? Where shall you get it?  I have some ideas,” said Elizabeth - gliding her hand down his stomach teasingly.

“Elizabeth-“

“That would be so scandalous and none would ever see it but I-”

“How would they tell I’m yours, then, when we are apart-“

“Must we be apart? You’re giving up the Gloriana to be by my side and in my bed.”

“I’ll probably have to go out and do your bidding from time to time.”

“Oh, true enough. I don’t suppose you could tell them yourself?”

“I’m not exposing anyone but you to that much of myself, tattooed or not,” James retorted.

“That will have to satisfy me.  And, I find it does, now that I think on it.  I want you to belong to only me.”

He smiled tiredly. “I thought it might.”

“Then at least I know you are finally, finally convinced of the depth of my feelings for you.”

“You should know by now that I want nothing else as much as to be yours.”

Her fingers in his hair turned as coddling as they were possessive.  She opened her mouth so as to speak, but nothing came to mind, and so, after a moment of this, she shut her mouth, and smiled and shook her head gently, as though conceding the speechlessness contentment and bliss had brought her to.

“And you can have your damned earring,” he added, before kissing her.

Elizabeth smiled so hard into this kiss that she had difficulty returning it. James noticed and rolled her on top of him with a warm, satisfied laugh.

“I want…”

“Yes, darling?”

“I want the world to see the way you have affected me,” he said softly.

“You mean you want to look dangerous,” she said, with a wicked showing of her teeth.

“It wouldn’t hurt anything,” James said, grinning back.

“My darling Captain.”  She pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed it.  “I confess, I am impatient for it.”

“Not dangerous enough for your taste yet, I presume?”

“For the two of us to do something fun,” she clarified.  “I miss raiding.  I should like to do it with you sometime.”

“A suitable target, I hope,” James said, very seriously.

“Oh, darling, let’s get one of Beckett’s,” she said with bright, misty eyes.

“I will purloin you another crew.”

She kissed him as if he had told her he planned to pick her a bouquet of wildflowers. James meshed both hands into her hair and guided her along the way, but he was gentler this time- more lingering.

The kiss, which had begun almost affectedly chaste, deepened gradually with time.

James released her hair from one hand and let it glide down her back instead, until it found her backside. He gripped it- lightly, teasingly, but a grip all the same.

“When they write the ballads in years to come, they will recall that I turned pirate in your bed…”

Elizabeth laughed in response, low and sultry.  She pulled back just enough to turn her eyes up to his, stealing a glance in secret, unabashed pleasure.

“Lord, our reputations are really sealed in stone, aren’t they?”

“I don’t expect to be anything but an addendum to your story.”

“You a degenerate. Me a whore.”

“You, an outlaw woman-king-”

“And a whore,” she said, her mood perhaps a little less pleased.  “I know what people think like.”

“People think that of queens who began their lives as princesses as well,” James reminded her.

She thought of the English queen whose name she shared and tried to cheer herself up a bit.  “Yeah, I suppose,” she said, a bit more brightly. His hand helped.  “I don’t mind being your…. “  No good; even at her bawdiest she could not say that.  “...I do not mind being yours.”

“You’re more of a bride regardless,” James said offhandedly. “You came to me good as one regardless-“

“I know,” she said, and briefly smiled, radiant as one. “But that’s not what the ballads will say.”

“Are you so certain?” he asked, as he began to bend his head toward her neck and kissed her collarbone. “You’ve demonstrated a rather imperious fidelity to your- mm, what did you suggest? Your werewolf lover-“

“I’ve been held captive by two pirate lords,” she said rather loudly.  “Married once now.  After being engaged to you first.  Then there’s the curious ambiguity of my situation with Jack.  I’m afraid I shall never convince anyone I was a maid before now.”

“They’re as likely to consider you soiled and vengeful about it as anything else.”

“I suppose it’s for the best. To be honest,” she said, and realizing this cheered and relieved her immensely, “I would rather that rumor than the truth be known.  Elizabeth Swann a maid, even her husband having had no pleasure off her-”

“Give me another fifteen minutes and I shall make you less of one,” James cut in.

“Oh, sweet boy, there is yet one particular quality of maidenhood you cannot ease me out of,” she crooned, touching his cheek gently with one hand - and sliding the other down her own thighs.

“Lie back and we'll see about that…”

“I think you might see something.  Sit up.”

“No interest in my going between your thighs, then?”

She pushed him backward daintily with one foot, which should capture his attention - and give him a fairly good vantage point when she began to glide her fingertips over herself and smirk at him.

“Elizabeth, what is-“

“Do you want to help me ease the trousers off? I cannot guarantee you shall be allowed anything but a view, but-”

“Elizabeth!”

“I don’t think you can convince me you wouldn’t enjoy it,” said Elizabeth, wriggling out of them.

“If it's all the same to you, I'd rather participate-”

“Oh,” she said breathlessly, fast on her way to being quite naked; “would you?”

“It will certainly hold my attention better-”

“We’ll see.”

Elizabeth put her foot on his thigh, forbidding silently that he should move from where he sat, and met his eyes as she glided her hand over her pelvis.  She touched her lips with her tongue, almost nervously, and then her mouth opened and she let out a small moan.

“Oh, my God-”

James had to look away.

“James! I command you to pay me - the attention and the respect I am owed, both as your captain and as your woman-”

“ELIZABETH.”

“Please, James,” she pleaded.

“I don't- I don't fully understand-”

He looked at her in apprehensive anguish.

“I just want - I want you to see-”

“I'm not sure I can- react appropriately-”

“All I want you to do is watch me - and perhaps- later -”

“Let me-”

“Perhaps later-” she said, out of breath - as much from shyness as anything else; she was hardly touching herself yet, not without reassurance that he wouldn’t look away - “you might - think on it-”

“I don’t want to think of it later,” he said, attempting to maneuver himself out from behind her leg so he could lay beside her, and finding it difficult. “I want to assist you- now-”

“I’m asking you to let me show you - perhaps you’ll - have some advice - and - if you would like to assist-”

Elizabeth swept her hair off her neck with her other hand and pushed her shoulders back, tilting her head and extending her neck.  “- will you - will you put your hand here -”

“Yes-”

He clapped his hand, more roughly than intended, to the side of her throat, and then quickly relaxed it again to support the back of her neck.

“Will this help-”

“Will you touch me - just here, and…”  She trailed her fingers down and over her breasts.

“May I kiss you?”

“I want you to watch me-”

“Are you certain?” He pressed his lips to her shoulder- a safe place, he assumed, to test the waters.

“Yes-” she moaned, but it was momentarily ambiguous as to whether or not this was an answer.

“Absolutely?” Her throat now.

“You may kiss me later,” she said, and now the moan in her voice was slightly petulant.

“If you insist. I was prepared to move downward, you know.”

“I do insist. You know that I do, why are you trying to weasel your way out of it-”

She had stopped what she was doing on account of the lull in his attention.  He sapped all the fun out of it.

“I thought I might intensify things-”

“Wait,” she said, now more irritated than anything else. “Until you’re asked for.”

“Am I still permitted to touch you?”

“You are, but I may rescind that- if you keep misbehaving-”

“Misbehaving? Is that what you call it?” he asked, trailing one finger along the underside of her breast.

She made a soft, indecipherable noise.

“If you can’t be patient,” she amended, in a more tender tone of voice.

“Not an hour ago, you were furious with the thought that I did not want you,” James said, as he moved that finger along to the other breast.

“I never really doubted that you wanted me,” said Elizabeth now, pushing herself up onto her elbows.  “Just perhaps that you did not want me as I want you - there’s a difference.  You are a little aloof, James.”

“Mmm. Well, you may remove that from your concerns, madam. You have my full-”

He curved his hand up and squeezed.

“-attention.”

“I had better,” she murmured, laying back down again almost sleepily. “You had better watch.”

“I don't know when I'll be ready,” he said, with a significant downward gesture.

“That doesn’t matter-”

“Fortunately for you, I haven't eyes for anything else,” James said, arranging himself to watch her.

The result of having to talk him into it was that Elizabeth was now a little shy about it.

“So why did you mind before-”

“I have to remind myself I'm not prying.”

Elizabeth lay back on the bed with a nervous hum.  It made her feel slightly better to slide her foot back into his lap in the process of parting her legs again; at least she could distract herself teasing him. James watched and felt his confidence eroding more and more the wider her legs spread.

“Should I be… er- taking notes-”

“Shh.  Let me look at you.”

“-yes, Elizabeth.” He swallowed, hard.

That made it easier - watching his throat jump like that - that made her want to do it.

“You- you have me at a tremendous loss-”

She shut her eyes for a moment, fancying she could hear his tremulous breathing.  Most likely untrue, but it did help.  “Oh, James-” she murmured, almost inaudibly.

“Elizabeth,” he said, so flustered his voice came close to cracking, “I could help if you liked-”

“You’re doing enough,” she sighed dismissively, leaning her head back.  That was true; James in this state did more for her than all of the other stimulations in the world.

“This feels unforgivably decadent,” he said, eyes widening.

“No, then there’d - oh - there would be - you would peek at me through veils-”

Elizabeth was still quick with words, but it was taking more and more concentration to be so.

“As though you’re on display for my- er- benefit-”

“I am-”

“Oh, God- Elizabeth, I'm not ready- I actually feel quite pleased, thank you-”

Oh, he was flustered, all right- flustered enough that he began laughing at his own foolishness and covered his eyes in embarrassment.

“Mm,” she complained, opening her own eyes in time to see him bury his.  “Do you want to assist me, James?” she asked breathily, turning her foot to dig her heel into his thigh, a nudge to get his attention.

“I certainly might be more effective that way,” he said, lowering his hand to look at her. “I fear we have some time before I’m of much use otherwise.”

“I can - nnh - delay my gratification-” she said, and the motion of her hand slowed.  “I thought I told you to look-”

“I think,” James said gently, “it will have the effect you desire on me if we wait until then.”

“Oh, very well,” she said, a little sleepily, but game.  “Come here and clean my hands.”

James slid up beside her and picked up his discarded shirt to wipe her off, punctuating the gesture with a little kiss to her forehead.

“Now help me dress…”

“Oh, are we finished? I do enjoy looking at you this way.”

She flushed and beamed at him, sitting up a little shakily - she was rather far along, with no closure in sight. “I feel exposed,” she said, without any self-recrimination or even any irony.

“Would you have me finish you?” he asked, putting his arm around her to support her.

“Not if there’s a chance that…”

“Hmm? Darling, you seem a little unsteady-”

“You made me an offer earlier,” she said, putting her arm around his shoulders just to pull him close enough to lick his ear.

“I can do more than that,” he reminded her. “You're not as easily winded as I may be.”

“Perhaps I want to make you wait,” she teased him.

“I haven't much choice at the moment,” he said, giving her ear a little reciprocal nip.

“To please me-”

James kissed her forehead again.

“You're burning up, sweetheart.”

“I am not.”

“Are you certain you want to wait?”

“I am certain that I want to drive you mad,” she said, kissing him slowly.

“Lisbet-”

He laughed against her lips. “Lisbet, it's not that, it's… it won't have the effect that you think. I can't- a man can't be driven mad for a certain period after his last exertion. It's not only a matter of whether or not he may stand at attention-”

“Then I’lll wait-”

“Very well. I only hate to see you suffer.”

“I don’t suffer,” she said, smirk widening.  “You hate nothing. You enjoy pleasing me.”

“At present, I’m afraid I can't enjoy anything much more intensely than smiling and nodding.”

“Come here, then, and enjoy my smiles,” she said, reaching to stroke his hair again.

“Gladly,” he said. “You may have mine in return, but I doubt they are quite so dazzling.”

“Your doubt is misplaced,” she murmured.

He laughed again, leaning his forehead on hers. “Well, I suppose you were hardly more sober than I was.”

“I remember last night better,” she pointed out.

“That would certainly explain your looking better than I suppose I must.”

“You’re beautiful,” she argued, before thinking better of it.

James met her eye for a moment, grinning with flattered pleasure.

“I’m not making an argument for my own ruination,” he said, “only a lapse in judgement last night. I’ll accept the compliment.”

“You do nothing without my permission,” she said, extremely pleased, pulling his hand to her heartbeat.  “The fault is mine, darling.”

“And what fault is that-”

“For letting you drink-”

“It would appear to have been a good time for all involved. I forgive you.”

“Mmm, show me.”

“How’s this-“

He kissed her, vehemently and open-mouthed. James was still some minutes away from being able to react as much as they would both like, but knowing that this would have an effect on her was its own satisfaction.

Elizabeth had not expected that - not when he was acting so spent.  She arched upwards against him, gasping his name.

“Were it not for the risk, I would have you as soon as I am able-“

“Mm, what if -”

“Hm-”

“- I want you,” she said quickly, shyly.  “We could risk it-”

“Even if I were to get you with child?” James asked, leaning in toward her again.

“We’ve -” She kissed him. “- discussed this-”

“Elizabeth, I…”

He hesitated, the same old litany of concerns playing on a loop in his mind.

“I- if you’re certain, Elizabeth, I don’t think anything could make me happier than to have a child with you-”

“Why is this always the first place your mind goes,” she complained.

“Because neither of us is diseased,” he said dryly, “so that’s out of our concern.”

“Yes, but-” She snorted in displeasure.  It was not a fun distraction, thinking about raising a child, foggy and unfamiliar though the idea was.  Thinking of carrying one was even worse.  

“I suppose I could try to withdraw in time,” James murmured, “though- well.”

He gestured at himself.

“Do you prefer to wait for a quondam,” she asked gently, cupping his cheek.

“No-” he said, a little too quickly.

Then:

“...but speaking practically, yes.”

She smiled at him, perhaps a little disappointed, but overall visibly content.

“Then we shall.”

“More’s the pity,” said James, who was more than a little disappointed himself. “You're certain-”

“We’ve managed this long,” she said gamely, struggling to maintain the facade of a self-sacrificing good mood.

“I know,” he groaned. “Believe me, I have searched for a substitute-”

“I like the things we do,” she said with an affronted sniff.

“As do I. You know that.”

“Then why are you so dissatisfied?”

“Dissatisfied is the wrong word,” said James. “It is more of a longing.”

“There you go, being poetic again,” she said drily - before she could take it back.  It was a defensive manoeuver, always responding with sarcasm when James had done some romantic thing she could not possibly reciprocate.

“It is what one might eventually have done with a wife, after all-”

“You did not think about this when you wanted me for your wife,” she reminded him with a wry smile.

“Through great effort alone,” said James. “And perhaps- well, one day. Presumably far in the future, we may still-”

Elizabeth sat up, blindly reaching around for her clothes.

“Hm?”

“-marry.”

“Very far, I would imagine,” she said musingly, but without a great deal of thought.

“Far enough to make dwelling on it foolish.”

Elizabeth pulled her shirt on lazily, one sleeve at a time, but could not bother to button it just yet.  She fingercombed her hair over one shoulder, picking out the tangles left there from this most recent romp, reminiscing fondly on how they’d got there - both his strong, broad hands buried in her hair and urging her on while he arched underneath her - her name on his lips and his pleasure on hers.

It made her beam up at him a little slyly.

“You know,” she said, “I like it when you call me ‘Lisbet.’”

James grinned. “I shall make an effort to recall that.”

“I’ve never been Lisbet before,” she said wistfully.  “It makes me feel… It reminds me that I am only yours.”

She was not certain she was anyone’s, but it would not be worthwhile to tell him so.

“Surely you're not dressing already,” he said as he sat up himself. He had been momentarily distracted in watching her.

“I feel naked,” she said bluntly.

“For what it's worth,” said James, “I like you naked.”

“I thought you liked me in trousers, dressed up like a sailor…”

“I enjoy both, but one is decidedly easier to have you in.”

“To have me, you mean,” said Elizabeth, tone light.

“I certainly won't object to trousers, if that's what you prefer.”

“Yeah, but kind of difficult to have me in trousers, hmm? Without making a mess.”

“Mm, yes, rather.”

She reached for them anyway.

“Must I do everything myself around here?” James grumbled, reaching toward his own crotch and gauging her reaction.

One of her lovely eyebrows lifted, and her smile grew perhaps a touch smug, but she did not comment. James was, of course, still not quite ready to begin with, and leaned back against the wall, still seated in bed.

“Well,” he said, “by all means, don't let me keep you.”

“Oh, no, now you’ve raised my interest-”

“It will have to wait all the same. Your trousers will not diminish my interest, believe me.”

“James,” she laughed.

“Yes, Lisbet?”

Her gaze grew tender.  “James,” she repeated, leaning across the bed to kiss him.

“Mm- yes, darling?”

“Just let me say it,” she whispered to tease him, and kissed him again.

“Ah-”

He was still bleary-eyed, but positively beaming between kisses.

“Have at me, then, my stubborn little sailor…”

She whispered his name as she kissed him, guiding, first, his hand to her breast, and then sliding hers between his legs.

“Forgive me if I am slow to react…”

“Forgiven,” she said primly.  “Thank you for permitting this…”

“The pleasure is mine-“

“Not that it is really yours to permit me,” she said, with a flash of hungry teeth.  “You belong to me, body and soul-”

James laughed. “Oh, of course. It’s mutual, isn’t it?”

“Yes-” Elizabeth gasped.  He might have been slow to react, but she wasn’t.

“Oh- mm. Good, then-“

She moved closer then, parting his legs and sitting between them, her free hand roaming along his bare torso idly while she kissed him.  If his body was hers, she would act like it.

“You poor creature, you must still be on fire-“

“I am!” she laughed, or cried, against his mouth.  “Good Christ-”

“I’ll have to finish you next-“

“You can go between my legs again - if you want,” she said, turning her eyes up to his quickly.

“Mm- that may take too much time. I would not see you forced to wait any longer-“

“I want to wait for you-” she insisted.

“I could try to manage it now if you would like-“

“Not yet,” said Elizabeth.  “When you beg for it- then we can.”

“You had better make it slow, then-”

“Take as long as you like,” said Elizabeth, kissing him on the neck now.  “I’ll be here.”

“And you're certain that will bring you off? I would hate to make you- nnn- wait again-”

“I think a breeze would finish me- If there’s so much as a draft in here, it’ll finish our fun prematurely-”

“Fortunately for you,” said James, as he semi-blindly groped forward to pull on her shirt, “you're easier to start up again than I-”

“Start up again? But I never stopped-”

“Were a breeze to finish you-”

His words cut off in a harsh, biting sound as he gasped and grit his teeth, eyes wide, though not precisely disturbed or displeased.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“Uh, here, you brilliant mastermind.”

“You're rather good at it.”

James was trying to be dry, but it was difficult under the circumstances. He pushed Elizabeth's shirt off of one of her shoulders.

“Take hold of my hair, will you? I’ve not grown it for you to ignore it at a crucial moment such as this-”

“Oh, darling,” said Elizabeth in a swoon, though her grip was firm and punishing and her smile was cruel and playful.  “Forgive me my negligence. You know I am still unused to these matters.  I get so distracted so easily.”

“You’re- ah- forgiven-”

“I can’t seem to help myself.  You know how I love doting on your prick-”

“I’ve noticed.”

“- you could dissuade me, you know. Try being less provocative-”

“-oh, so I’m provoking you now-”

“Biggest tease on the ocean.”

“The better to render the family name good and blackened-”

“Biggest something else on the ocean too,” she murmured; “or perhaps that’s only the limits of my imagination-“

“That's- you've a bias,” James blurted, going red in the face.

“Just can’t imagine they get any bigger.  Hard enough to get the whole thing in my-”

“Oh my God.”

“I’ll have to work on it.”

“It's- I've heard that attribute is of no real consequence,” James said awkwardly. “It's something men crudely brag of in taverns to win fights, and of no value beyond that-”

Elizabeth smirked at him, like a cat presented suddenly with a saucer of cream.  

“Your modesty in this matter does much to assure me my assumption is correct.  You would only inform me - with so much humility and shyness as this - of the irrelevance of that attribute if you knew you possessed it.”

“I don't want you to think it's beyond disappointment-”

“James,” she said, with great majesty composing her features into a more frank expression. “I hope you understand me. I know very well the disappointments you are capable of.”

“Not- gah!- all of them!”

“No? Surely I am. Your oppressive good manners, your projected blandness, your morbid detachment from carnal matters-”

“Must you call it morbid-”

“As one dead, Captain.”

“Does this feel dead to you!?”

Elizabeth could not hold back her smile forever, not when her teasing found so soft and easy a target.

“No,” she said softly, leaning in closer and rubbing him more slowly.  “Not at all.”

“Christ,” he said, “I should hope not-”

She thought of her experience with dead men and brushed it off.  

“Show me,” she murmured; “kiss me.”

“Don't let me go,” said James, and he did.

Oh, she loved him. Good Christ, how she loved him.

Elizabeth felt a stab of pleasure go through her like bright, sticky lightning and gasped against his lips.

“I think I'm sufficiently prepared,” James whispered into her open mouth. “Lie down, dearest-”

She didn’t need a second telling.  She did not quite lie down, though, leaning up on her elbows because she couldn’t take her eyes off him.  His hair hung in short, tousled waves around his face - eyes all the more interesting with his tan - and she couldn’t stop looking at that face she had known so well, and somehow only recently discovered was so handsome it made her heart beat faster to see him smiling, just for her. James began to maneuver himself into position and then stopped, though he rubbed the inside of her thigh to assure her that he was in no way reluctant.

“Darling?”

“Yes?” she asked, nearly panting, cupping his cheek so that she could keep taking in the sight of him.

“Do you want to be on top?”

“Oh,” she exclaimed.  “If - if you think- if it’s safe-”

“It might be safer. Gravity and all that-”

Elizabeth was already pushing him down and straddling him, too enthusiastic to notice she’d been a bit rough.

“Careful-” James blurted, but he was too busy laughing to imbue it with much authority.

Elizabeth let out a loud sigh.

“I don’t tire of that-” she gasped, when she could manage words.  “James, Christ-”

“What now-”

“What do you think-”

“I’m flummoxed.” It doubled as a convenient euphemism.

“James,” she said, exasperated - more than a little physically overwhelmed.  She had been wanting a long time, and yet there seemed to be still more barriers to her personal satisfaction.

“I love you,” he said, reaching with one unsteady hand to brush a lock of her hair back.

That only increased her desire - it did not fulfill it.  She shut her eyes, more aware once she had of the sound of her breathing, shaky and shallow.  

“I love you-” she countered in nearly a whisper.  “ - touch me, will you?”

His hands found her breasts. James lightly stroked one of her nipples with the pad of his thumb.

She let out a whimper and closed her arms around his shoulders, burying her face into the hollow of his throat.  Elizabeth was not generally self-conscious enough to seek to muffle herself, but the only man alive whose disapproval and hurt mattered to her was on this ship - and besides that, she thought she might make a lot of noise.

“Would you prefer I- nn- muffled you myself?”

James was trying to sound teasing. It was about as hard as he was.

Elizabeth shut them both up for a good long while. James’s participation was necessarily somewhat limited, but he had to playfully pull himself away from her from time to time- make it a game- to extend his own longevity, and hopefully hers as well, while making it clear that he was not experiencing another attack of reluctance or misplaced conscience. He could only pray that his- hopefully- wolfish grin when he did, and his eager, exploratory hands gave the game away.

By the time they had both climaxed and fallen into one another's arms, James’s headache had mostly dissipated. Whether that was the Advil or two rounds of release, he couldn't say, but it was a blessed relief either way to bury his face against her neck, into the sea salt scent of her hair and no longer feel the burn behind his eyelids.

“Good Christ,” he murmured. “You're… mmph. You're very good at that.”

After such a long time of wanting it, to finally achieve this elation had exhausted her.  Elizabeth was entirely spent and refused to do any more than the bare minimum of movement. Therefore the pressure of her fingers against the back of his neck, sunk into the base of his hair, was very light, and their motion was very slow.  It did not quite qualify as a massage.  A good wind would have been stronger.

“Elizabeth?”

He propped himself up on one elbow.

“James?”

“Ah, good. There you are. I thought you had exhausted yourself.”

“Myself? You exhausted me.”

“One does not wish to overestimate one’s contributions,” James said, affectedly stiff and more than a little self-mocking.

“You wore me out,” she complained, while smiling.

“I did notice a fair bit of recurrence.” This was a bit more smug. “I did not even realize this kind of success was possible with your particular anatomy-”

“I did not realize it was not with yours.  You’ve been….. mm, instructive,” she said, biting her lip and smiling.

“Ah, good,” he said again, as he did not wish to say anything more vulgar. “Put your hand in my hair again, will you?”

She threaded her fingers through it, remarking again on its admirable curl and depth of color, and reminding him that she had still not grown used to seeing him without his formal wig, but liked him better every single day.  In general she liked to look at him. He was beautiful, and realizing both that he was hers - and that she had almost lost him - made her more inclined to linger on the thought.

“Most of the curl will be weighted out by the time I am able to tie it.”

This came out in a startlingly rueful tone from the sheer force of fear of disappointing her. James immediately covered his eyes with his hand in mortification.

“Pardon me- I did not intend to sound so morbid where something so petty is concerned.”

She laughed at him. “James, it’s not a big deal.”

“I know it isn't- though in truth, living up to your expectations often feels like the most important demand in my life at present-”

“You have far exceeded my expectations. You know what I thought of you.”

“You have no trouble reminding me,” James said dryly. “I couldn't not know.”

“You meant my... present expectations?”

In truth, Elizabeth had none - she did not think of relationships in that transactional way he assumed - but she wanted to soften what she had just said.  

“...yes?” said James, with an uneasy rising intonation.

“That you comfort me, and irritate me, and make up for it; that you be sarcastic and interesting, and sensitive, and in need of your own comfort and irritation; and that you make me regret the last few years sorely, but the last few months not at all, and make me impatient for the future? And that you be as good a second as any captain could imagine, and as good as a husband to boot, and that you be here, in this bed, when I climb into it in at night, even when our day has been awful, and I am stinking angry at you?”

She pinched his nose.

“You’re better than I expect, a great deal so.  I never thought you would give over the Gloriana to be with me, and you’ve said you will.  I still cannot believe you brought me the heart of Davy Jones, for that matter.  And, darling James,” she laughed, pinching his chin instead. “You grew a beard for me.”

“It was the least I could do after you saved my life,” he said, faux-somberly. “Twice, to be fair.”

“I only saved your life the once.  And you had saved mine already.”

“I seem to recall a rum bottle cracked over my head-”

“Ah, well. That wasn’t guaranteed in either direction,” she said, but she looked smug.

“I want to do right by you,” he said, with a softer, more sincere note creeping into his voice. “Everything else is secondary. I suppose I will sort  out in time.”

“You do,” she said, fond with exasperation.

“It’s a matter of convincing myself, then,” said James. “Of- of allowing myself to believe that.”

She brushed his hair back from his forehead. She couldn’t think of what to say to convince him - or make him convince himself - and so she did not say anything. James closed his eyes and tilted his head into her caressing.

“If it is easier to consider it as such,” he sighed, “you may consider it more of a desire to honor your choice of myself even with your former husband back in the situation.”

A pause.

“That,” said James, “and- God help me-”

He inhaled sharply, going a little red with embarrassment. He was silent again for a moment.

“...I liked your doting on my prick, as you called it.”

Since she had made that brazen declaration in the first place, it was perhaps ironic for Elizabeth to respond to having it tossed back in her face by growing flushed and pressing her nose into her arm.

“- is that what I called it? Ah - well - I suppose - it’s apt, isn’t it?”

“It's what you called it,” he muttered, covering his face, “it will do-”

“Perhaps, seeing as - you liked it - you might -”  She tucked her head onto his shoulder and nudged him, curling up beside him as she did. “ - permit it more frequently-”

“I- yes, I suppose. I… I could, couldn't I?”

James's voice was a little fragile with bafflement. For the first time since very early in their rekindled acquaintance, he felt as though he were looking at her curled up on someone else's shoulder.

She pressed coaxing kisses against his ear, his bearded cheek, and his fingers, which still lay over his face.

“I do dote on you,” she whispered, gently headbutting him and smiling to herself.

“I’m very aware-” James blurted. “I-”

“- like it?” she supplied, stroking his chin again.

“-yes, that too.”

“Oh, and what else, Captain Norrington?”

“I imagine I can permit it. More than that- request it-”

He lowered his hand- he had already been looking out from behind his spread fingers- to look at her properly.

“Oh?” she breathed, delighted.

“Subject to your consent, of course-”

“That’s all I want,” she said, leaning her cheek on him again ecstatically.  “We’ll be - we’ll be just like outlaw lovers in a ballad, huh?  Real lovers - not that we aren’t lovers.  But you’re so - you’re so - you’re so reluctant-”

“Happier than a ballad, I hope-”

“You make me happier than anyone is in a song,” said Elizabeth, forgetting momentarily every eye-roll, every yawn and every bit tongue - she kissed his cheek, enthusiastic and sincere.

“How is that earring practice coming along?” he teased, pushing his hand up into her hair as she kissed him.

“Mmm, touch my hair, James-”

“You needn’t ask-”

She shut her eyes and let him, a smile stealing over her face. James obligingly began gently working out the lingering tangles in her hair with his curved fingers.

“Am I permitted to show you a greater amount of public affection after last night?” he asked.

“- not until Will’s left,” she said, with sudden, unexpected tension.

“Ah,” he said. “A pity, that. I had rather hoped, given your apparent enjoyment-”

“Not until Will’s left,” she repeated in a haze.

“All right,” he said, kissing her on the temple in reassurance.

“I couldn’t -  couldn’t - make him watch that-” she said numbly.

“Then I suppose I shall have to detain you out of his sight more often,” James laughed.

“You - you may have to do that.”

She was stumbling over her words, the swiftness of the unhappy reminder - the heartache it gave her - rendering her briefly useless; she burrowed into his arms and stayed for a moment.  Then she rolled over and flashed him a tired smile.

“It’s going to be difficult to stay off you, even in front of the crew,” she goaded him; “so I shall need more of you than ever when we are alone.”

“I intend to give it,” he said as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “As much of me as you will have-”

“I could eat you alive,” she said with a smirk.

“I can think of no happier demise,” said James, beaming.

He was so proud of that, she realized - he really had wanted this, and nothing more.  Or nothing less, perhaps, was a better phrasing.

Elizabeth pulled his hand to her lips now in return. James's smile softened.  

“I am not living for you alone,” he said, “but what joy it is to live for you at all.”

She rubbed his thumb with hers affectionately.

“...yeah, I don’t mind it either,” she managed, blushing again; not the most romantic of affirmations, but sincere.

“... perhaps we ought to maintain a no-poetry policy-”

“We’re pirates. You might be just out of the Navy, James, but for my own part, I don’t think i can hold to policy all that well.”

“You would be amazed to know how similar they feel after a few months at sea,” James conceded, “when we're all sick to distraction of uniforms and protocol.”

“Understood,” she laughed.  “In any case, I cannot allow a no-poetry policy.  I am sorry, James, but the king has said her final word on the matter.”

“Then I shall have to cope with that, it seems,” he said, with an affectionate squeeze of the hand. “My God, Elizabeth. From the way you carry on, I sometimes suspect that even had we married it would have taken mere months before I might as well have wed another sailor.”

“Another boy sailor?”

James blinked, a little taken aback, and collected himself.

“Well,” he said, “if it were still you-“

“I don’t think I would have been quite so much of this then,” she said, a little cautiously - if he liked the thought of it, she did not want to discourage his affection for her; but she could not bid herself lie, either.

“That’s true,” he admitted. “And thinking of the others, I might have so much as grown too accustomed to you-“

“Lord, James, there’s no pleasing you.  You wouldn’t have been excited by my stockings or my corsets, but if I had taken to trousers you’d have bored of that too?”

“I never said a word about stockings-“ he interjected, too quickly.

“Oh,” she said, grinning.

“Elizabeth.”

“Well, indeed, I suppose you did not, though I assumed-”

“Stockings aren’t much for artifice-“

“I thought all of those little feminine trappings disagreed with you.  All of that beribboned nonsense.”

“Not all of it, certainly-“

He pressed his lips together.

“There’s nothing to recommend against a chemise, either,” he said finally. “And I suppose panniers on their own have a degree of charm to balance out the stays-“

Elizabeth’s expression made the rounds between amusement, to incredulity, to exasperation with a startling quickness.

“James Norrington, you ass!” she shouted, hitting him in the shoulder.

“What have I done now?” he protested.

“Perjured yourself - though I should have expected no less from so foul and so black a brigand,” she said, thumping him again.

“You know what I prefer- for heaven’s sake, Lisbet, what do you suppose Lettie wore?”

“You said you didn’t like all of that! You told me so-”

“It’s certainly not my ideal-“

“You said you didn’t like it. You said it had no appeal.”

“Not under a dress, it doesn’t!”

“But we talked about it! We talked about - women, in a state of undress - and you said you didn’t care for those things!”

“I said I don’t care for stays, Elizabeth, I was quite specific-“

“I am certain I asked after everything else,” she grumbled.  “I remember-”

“It’s of no consequence regardless,” he said heatedly. “I know how I prefer you.”

“Naked as the day I was born - that’s very glamorous-”

“In men’s clothing with scarcely anything left to be imagined,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

“In men’s clothing- you have to imagine everything in order to even believe there is a woman under them in the first place,” she exclaimed, exasperated.

“Not her legs- and not her arse, either-“

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but no sound came out this time. James shrugged uncomfortably.

She found herself blushing.  And trying not to smile.  And smiling.

“Really?” she asked, feeling the corner of her mouth tugging upward in spite of her best intentions.

“Yes,” he groaned.

“You like looking at - ?“

“Oh, my God- yes, all right? I know what I prefer-”

Elizabeth looked radiantly happy.  She could barely hear him.

“That is so - that is too kind of you.”

“Did you really believe that was all a lie?” he asked, frowning in concern.

“I thought you felt very little and wanted me to stop accusing you of it,” she laughed.

“For heaven's sake- just because I found a little to delight in when Lettie wore all of that-”

“You still seem very….” She hesitated to repeat the word ‘cool’ to him.  “...restrained about matters of preference,” she finished delicately.

“I don't wish to be churlish-”

“I think I’d like you to be a little bit of a brat to me sometimes,” said Elizabeth with a nudge.  “Just to make up for the way you are most of the time.”

James laughed a little tiredly.

“Lettie hardly had your abundance of hair, either,” he said, “and yet you know how I feel about that.”

“Mm, yes. The one thing on which we are in absolute agreement,” she said, pulling it to the side and scrunching it absentmindedly.  “I have very wonderful hair.”

James reached out and stroked it.

“Hers was a very pale blonde. She tinted it red and cut it around here-”

He touched about halfway down Elizabeth's neck.

“-filled it with switches lest anyone pulled on it, to spare her neck the strain. A rather grim occupational hazard, really. Don't tell her I told you that, if you ever meet her.”

Elizabeth pulled a face unintentionally.  “Do you think she would like me?”

“I would hope so,” said James. “It’s not as though we parted on poor terms; I can’t imagine her bearing you any ill-will.”

He sat up a little, to gain better access to her hair, and began working on some of the more stubborn snarls.

“I hope that this does not lessen your opinion of me.”

“What now?”

“My selective honesty, compounded by the impropriety of that which I chose to omit.”

“...the fact that you are only sometimes honest?  James, everyone is only sometimes honest.  I think Captain Barbossa is only sometimes partially honest, and he does his best not to be.”

“In matters of the heart,” he said gently, “it seems a rather cold detail to leave out. I did not realize it upset you to think I cared so little for all of that.”

“I don’t imagine you would,” she said, reconciliatory with private alarm, realizing at once she had made him think she was much more hurt than she was.  “I have never appeared to value my feminine attributes, such as I can be said to have them - why would you think I did?”

“You commented often enough on my alleged preference for a boy and my morbidity that I thought you must have thought I regretted your sex in the first place-”

“I think you regret that you want me - physically, anyway. I think you wish love were an entirely spiritual affair.”

“Not now I don't-”

“But you did.  Even after we got together.”

“Is that so disappointing?”

“Of course it was.”

“You were coming off of the end of your marriage- because of myself, I might add. I did not dare to get ahead of myself.”

“You remember how I was in Tortuga,” said Elizabeth, looking towards him in exasperation. “How badly I wanted you.”

“I know that,” he said. “But I did not know you would choose me in the end.”

“Whose heart were you protecting?”

James swallowed. “Both, I thought.”

She brushed her finger over his heart with the ghost of a smile.

“I’ll protect it, always,” she said in a soft voice.  “...your feelings, on the other hand, I cannot promise anything-”

“Don't worry about that,” he said. He released her hair to clasp her hand instead, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

There was an awkward silence between them for a moment, which James broke with a small cough.

“I know I ought to dress and go out,” he said, “but I find I lack the impulse. What does Her Majesty suggest?”

“Well, it must be growing close to evening by now,” she said dubiously.  “We may as well.  And perhaps we’ll linger when the sun goes down.”

“Mm.” He stretched his back with a grimace. “I can only hope I don't look too dissipated.”

“The more dissipated, the better,” she said, leaning on his chest to look down into his eyes.  “You’re a pirate now.”

James scoffed. “Then perhaps we ought to change the standard.”

“No, I like the standard- it’s less work.”

“Suit yourself,” he laughed.

“I do,” she said loftily.

“Dissipation may be a bridge too far,” said James, settling in comfortably to hold her a moment longer. “We’ll have to find some adjacent adjective.”

He pushed his hair from his face, with the dim thought that he understood a little better now how much she could like how much he loved hers- even if she had specified their feelings were not quite matched in that regard. He wondered, vaguely, how long it could grow without the near-curl dropping out of it, and if he could get accustomed to not tying it back…

“What's the next nearest thing to dissipated? Tarnished?”

“That will do,” she said, muzzily.  The bed seemed hot and somewhat sticky, but she didn’t want to get up and get dressed, didn’t want to be released.

“Tarnished, then. I can be content with tarnished.” He dipped his hand around to the inside of her thigh, as though to make a point.

“Mmmmm, content indeed.”

“More than content, really,” he said, after a short pause. “Elizabeth-”

“James?”

“I hope that with our misunderstandings cleared away, you might permit me to ask for your attentions… often.”

“Which attentions?” she asked, stirring her fingers in his hair in the echo of a question.

James met her eyes.

“All of them. And- mine in return.”

“You want to ask for your own affections?” pressed Elizabeth, clearly amused.

“To give them, at least-”

“I do like your attentions,” she said in a low, baiting voice.

“And to receive yours,” said James, very seriously.

“You might not realize what you are opening yourself up to,” she said, creeping closer to him.

“How would you have me prepare myself, then-”

“I wouldn’t,” she teased, and kissed him.

“Mmm. I shall remain alert, then,” he said, with the ghost of a laugh.

She explored his mouth with her tongue, pushing him back onto the bed and leaning over him.  Her hair fell over him in a curtain of tangles. James looked up at her, guileless and joyful.

“What is it?”

“I love you, obviously,” she said, looking down into his eyes and snorting.

“Is that all?” James scoffed, too seriously to mean it.

“I love you and I don’t want to leave this bed,” she amended in apology.

“Oh, thank heaven. Neither do I.”

“Let’s forget today ever happened.  Like we slept right through it and go on deck tomorrow bright and early and express shock that anyone would wonder how we missed a full day, since all we remember is All Hallow’s Eve, and drinking enough to be sick.”

“Clever,” he laughed. “Agreed, then, save the part about pretending none of this happened. I want to treasure today in my heart as the day on which I feel we came to a stronger understanding.”

“James,” she said flatly.

“What is it?”

“You sound like a 90-year-old barn owl.”

“I don't want to forget today,” he said, with a resigned sigh.

“A stronger understanding, really? Because I-”

“-I feel we’re on the same page, at last, as concerns car-”

Too formal, still. James caught himself and had to take a moment to flake the excess ornamentation away from his words, until his feelings beneath them were exposed.

“Where fucking is concerned,” he said, with an embarrassed precision. “You don't understand how often I think of it- dwell on it-”

Elizabeth’s exasperation softened to be reminded that James was, after all, only a man - and a man she had lain with many times over now, to great mutual satisfaction, to boot.  It was pitifully easy to forget sometimes.

“You hide it rather better than most men do,” she said gently.

“Thank God for that,” he scoffed. “But I will… try… to hide it perhaps less-”

“Not in front of others,” said Elizabeth, a little mortified.

“Of course not! Let's not get ahead of ourselves-”

“But when we’re… alone together?”  She bit her lip hopefully.

“Oh- yes, darling, yes-”

“Then - that will be - very much to my preference,” she said delicately. The irony of her speaking like an owl did not go unappreciated, and Elizabeth cracked a smile reflecting on it.  “At the very least, I shall have no reason to think of you as morbid.”

James smiled a little tightly but had nothing else to add after that. He stretched, groaned, and fell back in place with a yawn.

“Is there enough water left in the basin to wash, do you suppose?”

“The important bits,” she said unruffledly.

“I see,” said James. “Do we plan on dirtying ourselves again?”

His hand in her hair tangled itself in firmly enough to give her a possessive little tug. “I could always wash you myself, but I fear that would end in defeating the purpose.”

“Mm-” she laughed.  “What a tempting offer.”

“If you were to take it up-”

(He kissed her collarbone.)

“-might you reciprocate?”

“You sure you want that?” she asked lightly, with a knowing smirk.

“...I do,” he said softly, the smirk momentarily falling from his face to be replaced by a look of utter open vulnerability.

[ddomesticfucker]

Vulga unceremoniously snatched the handkerchief from Magda with two fingers, still wracked with laughter. "Oh, I suppose you're right," her voice warbled, dabbing around her eyes as she took a few steadying breaths. "With my luck though, it'll be some dilapidated medieval thing with a huge hole in the wall. Eh, I could still make it work."

Vulga listened to Magda speak, smiling and nodding along slowly as the seamstress came to realize the point Vulga was trying to make. Just before she was going to speak up, though, Alcina was mentioned, and what was said did make her pause and briefly rethink. The Countess was on another level, literally and figuratively, from the two of them and that had to be accounted for. Vulga pressed a fingertip to her bottom lip and pressed down, pondering the seamstresses words. "The social gap and age gap can and has definitely impacted whatever bonding you're able to do with her, but yes, I am right, and as long as you realize that then I'm mostly content. I say 'mostly' because I still feel like you're not giving yourself enough credit--we may be 'commoners' to her, but we're also people too. You are very talented and could be easily working for someone else with just as much status as the Countess, and they would be wearing your dresses instead. Don't undermine yourself because of someone else's view. And you're not going to become a vintage." Vulga could have gone further, about how noble bloodlines and royalty were all made up social constructs and dictated nothing anyway (and was so far from the reasons she idolized Alcina), but she had a feeling that she'd already gone far enough from the look Magda had given her. Vulga took a deep breath and crossed her arms; she spoke now with no evidence of humor or games on her face nor in her tone, no slyness, no quirk. This was direct. "And she'll be mine, too, god willing. I don't mean to disrespect her--you know that--but I'm not the kind of person to let that sort of thing go unnoticed, regardless of the status of the person doing it. Not even my own flesh and blood mother."

"Then it's settled," Vulga stated, clapping her hands together loudly and straightening her back. "You're going to be a deceivingly beautiful seamstress who's been sneaking the Countesses youth-restoring spirits for years and is even older than she is, an ancient babushka who's fooled everyone, even her employer. How's that for you?" Vulga smiled smugly and raised her brows--it didn't matter what Magda said now, it was going in the book, and it was funnier that way. "Every vampire's castle located in a monster-infested village in eastern Europe needs a little conspiracy thrown in here and there. Anyway, I never understood the obsession with stability in life, but if you need it, you need it. You could relax a little bit though," Vulga shrugged and winked, "and come with me somewhere someday if permitted. I think a year is a little generous on your own--no offense--but if you were with me, I'd make sure you stuck to it. Doing things you aren't supposed to is actually very fun when you decide it's going to be."

Magda may have been joking, but that comment took Vulga back a little bit and she realized that she was letting on too much about her origins if the seamstress was already guessing America. She skirted past it with a small laugh and then continued, "Yeah, but see, we just had that whole talk about how malleable those vamps are. You're comfortable with them now, and you live in a big castle, and do your work. This is your new 'safe'. I still say we should go vagabond someday. I'm not one for throwing myself off cliffs when I could just walk into the water, but I do love to break and enter every now and then." Vulga snickered. She was just bothering Magda now, but that was her own fault for making herself open to it.

"If the garb is nice enough, dear seamstress, I may just have to come back from the dead so I can wear it! Then you'll not only be living with four cannibal women but also a shitty revenant who won't leave you alone and still lives in your flooooor...oooo~" Vulga wiggled her fingers, backing away from Magda and not watching at all where she was going; she raised her arms higher and clenched her hands like claws, like a bootleg Nosferatu, her weight bearing all the way down on the loose board she'd dislodged to get into the room in the first place. Her cackling was interrupted by a short scream and the crack of the wood under her as the plank gave way, snapping directly in half.

The Wall Maiden, Cont’d

Continued from here, @ddomesticfucker

“Yes, please make sure to aim for something non-vital. Like my foot or two feet above my head.” To tell the truth, Magda hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Vulga. Laughter, yes, but not the full body shaking, bringing tears to the eyes sort of reaction. It made her smile, and she offered a handkerchief to the other woman. “I told you I begged for my life and made promises to the Countess, did I not? That’s what possessed me. I do my best not to lie and my word is my bond, Vulga. I don’t make promises in earnest often, but when I do, they are heartfelt and true. Play your cards right and maybe you will end up with a castle. Or a tower.”

Magda considered Vulga’s explanation carefully. It was an interesting point she made. Were they human? Yes and no. “I would never consider them mindless killer, but you are right. They’re malleable. When I first came here, I was only so many steps away from being food. The daughters didn’t see me as a person until I was here for three years. The Countess…?” She paused, thinking and remembering. “She saw potential, I think. Or at least I gave her potential to see. I’ve made progress, I know I have, but I also know that I’ve only gotten so far with Alcina. She… some days I can’t read her.” Then Magda realized her error. Yes, they were predatory as well as human, but Alcina had a third aspect that the daughters seemed to mostly lack. “She’s titled. She’s the elite and nobility. That is the word I was lacking. I don’t know how old the Countess is, but I’d guess easily over a century, at least. Judging by her taste in clothing, I mean.” And the portraits of herself and her daughters, but Vulga didn’t need to know about that. “We’re commoners. The hired help. I knew that for a while, but it just didn’t click, for some reason, until now. But you’re right, I’m a favored commoner.” Again, she smiled a little. “I’d love to be able to leave, or at least be able to live out the rest of my life safe in the knowledge that I won’t become a bottle of her latest vintage.” That said, Magda gave Vulga a gentle look. “She is my employer, you know. You have fun calling her foolish and disrespectful.”

Cocking her head at the money statement, Magda began reevaluating Vulga. “Either you steal everything you need, or you live life in the moment, letting the wind take you where it may.” She mulled that thought over for a bit. “I don’t think I could do that. I’d last maybe a year. I enjoy some steadiness in my life. As for what to stretch out a bit?” She waved her off. “I’ve changed my mind. Write what you want, true or false. I won’t influence you. It’ll be funnier that way.”

“Perfectly average people doing the dumbest shit alive? Isn’t that a fancy way to say ‘Americans’ or ‘college aged students’?” she joked. “But, I appreciate the statement. I, for one, have never jumped off of cliffs. Or most tall structures, for that matter. I play it safe… so says the seamstress who lives with unusually tall vampires that enjoy dining on the occasional castle staff member.”

The seamstress allowed Vulga her dramatic moment, thoroughly enjoying it. “Of course, I understand. The space beneath my floor is always open to you, Vulga. A nice throw rug, maybe a few pillows. It’ll be lovely. And should you not return, I will craft you the most glorious funeral garb, lay it under the floor, and place your found bag on top of it. This I swear,” Magda replied with the utmost solemnity.