#I made next one and then in a couple second I'm fouled again

[imaginespazzi]

It's very late, I'm a tiny bit tipsy but I definitely won't have time tomorrow, and if my inbox is anything to go by, y'all really want your pazzi crumbs so here y'all go (I might do a proper recap about the game later but we'll see)

Also I know I said I lowkey wanted Paige to leave but you guys seeing the way gampel loves her (like IT WAS LOUD and lowkey didn't even hear her say the "I'm coming back" part because everyone was screaming already) and seeing the way she loves them back, ugh I'm just so happy she gets that again for one more year and I just hope it's everything she wants.

Anyways onto what you're here for:

The scream I screamed when Azzi came out in the #5 jersey like I think I scared some people (read: the girl next to me even though she should be used to my bullshit by now). But when I tell y'all it was a MOMENT, for me and for Paige. I'm sure she knew it was happening but I have no idea if she'd seen Azzi in that jersey before the moment. But girlie's eyes were glued for a good minute. Like they were doing their warmups and stuff they do, and Azzi was walking around the court saying hi to people and Paige was distracted as hell. Then Azzi finally got to her and bruh the smirk on this bitch's face like WE GET IT. That's your girl, in your jersey. She definitely made some smartass comment cause Azzi rolled her eyes. Like you guys I wish I had videoed this interaction, even if it would have come out blurry as fuck, because I swear it's better than anything I can ever write, literally straight out of a fic vibes.

KK also definitely made some smartass comment cause Azzi full just shoved her at some point. Princess was getting teased by everyone today I think because she was blushing and rolling her eyes a lot and whoever was around her was laughing with teasing eyes.

They gravitate to each other so much, like so much it's kinda insane. Especially before the game, like as soon as Azzi was out of the tunnel (injured players come out a couple of minutes after the other players), even when they're not really even interacting each other, they're in each other's orbiit. Y'all like it's kinda ridiculous. And I was at the Texas game last year (was not as invested back then so maybe that's why) but I swear they weren't this attached yet.

Also seeing Azzi so happy and carefree pregame, I already knew Paige was definitely staying.

Small moment during the foul with Amari that was being reviewed, the non-injured players were huddled and the injured players were still on the bench. And Paige just kept looking back at Azzi and at some point Aaliyah like elbowed her and gave her a knowing look before also turning back and looking at Azzi.

Also I swear when they're slapping hands, both of them tend to linger just a second longer than they do with other people.

Speaking of people teasing Azzi, Paige's mom gave her the biggest smirk when she saw her after the game. Like she looked at the jersey and then like titled her head a little bit and then they hugged and it was so sweet. Before that she was messing around with all of Paige's siblings. You can just tell the comfort level is different because at this point, everyone's close to everyone's families to an extent, but it's just different with Azzi and Paige's family.

Back to gravitating, as soon as Paige was done with the SNY interview and interacting with fans, she was back in Azzi's orbit. Like they don't really touch and stuff because they're clearly aware there's so many people, but you can see they kinda want to? But they were just talking after. They're so tethered, like I know and y'all know, but when you see it in person it's kinda insane to observe.

Alright that's all I can remember right now but I'll see if I can remember more. But man it was just such an emotional night and ugh I love this senior class so much and seeing them get the love they deserve made me so happy. They deserve everything.

[mommangomom]

admit it

~pairing: beidou x fem!reader ~cw: suggestive

content: beidou noticed you were being extremely friendly to the traveler, who you had just met a few days ago

The Traveler had a domino effect with the people she met since she was always helpful, kind, and just an overall good person, and you were no different. You spent the whole last few days at Liyue with her after doing commission with her days prior. Considering your out of the blue burst of good moods, of course your girlfriend Beidou noticed.

It was late at night when you arrived at the Crux ship. Everyone was practically ready for departure and only needed to wait until the break of dawn until setting sail. But in contrast to everyone else who was full of energy, you were slumped backwards with the amount of quest-ing you and the Travelers did. You made your way to Beidou's room to catch your much needed rest.

You opened the door smoothly thinking the captain must be outside aiding with the departure of the ship. So it was only reasonable to be shocked when she was instead sitting on her desk with her legs and arms crossed, glaring at you.

"You were gone for quite some time Y/n.." She said.

Maybe it was because of your exhaustion, but you couldn't notice her concerned tone, so you didn't think much of it and responded normally. "Well I was out with the Traveler the entire night, I'm exhausted." You yawned.

She scoffed, which was when you finally noticed her foul mood. "Traveler this, traveler that - You've been awfully close with that girl the past few days haven't you?" She questioned as she stood up and began walking closer.

It was clear to you she was acting on jealousy, and as angry as she looked, frankly it was adorable. You stood in your place. "I mean we've been partnered for commissions a lot... I wouldn't be surprised to pair up with her again next time we see each other." You told her with a smirk which only ticked her off more.

By now she was right in front of you. She towered over you by a couple inches so you had to tilt your head up just to reach her eyes.

"Tch, you really know how to get on my nerves Y/n."

You tilted your head, still keeping that taunting smirk. "I'm simply responding, 'Captain', what do you want me to do?"

All of a sudden you felt her hand cup your waist and pull you in, making you flinch and let out a quick yelp. Just hearing your voice began to influence Beidou in more ways than one. "Tell me how you truly feel about her, that Traveler."

Out of everything, you weren't expecting that. "Wh-"

"Come on.. just admit it, with how much you've been spending time with her, you must feel something with her right?" She whispered in a seductive tone that only made your ears burn red and your stomach churn.

Although it might anger her a little, you still wanted to continue the tease. "..Do you really want to know how I feel about her?" You asked, making Beidou's eyes bolden.

She hmphed. "The floor's yours."

Her face was inches away from yours you could practically feel her breath on the bridge of your nose. As a response you instinctively wrapped your arms around her neck and tugged. "That girl.. she'd never compare to you, Beidou, obviously, because you're the one I hold dearest."

Her cheeks grew a light shade of red and you heard the quiet gulp she took - to think the renowned captain of the Crux had such a flustered side to her - the thought of others ever finding out made you chuckle, but also, you wanted to be the only person to see it.

"What am I gonna do with you.."

Almost immediately after, her head tilt and she leaned fully into you for a kiss, and you gladly accepted it while reciprocating the same energy. It lasted seconds straight until you could no longer breathe and you broke off sending a small string of saliva across your lips. You both now were in complete heat over something so frivolous, not that the two of you minded.

Before she was about to lean in again, you frantically placed your hand on her chest. "Wait, what about the ship, don't you have to sail it out?" You asked, still out of breath.

"It's fine, I asked Kazuha to handle this one."

From there, the two of you went all out. To be honest, you weren't entirely sure how it got to this point, all you did was catch onto the wave and moved with the current. But in the end it was safe to say that you were no longer exhausted, seeing as you suddenly had all the energy in the world.

[this-is-krikkit]

I have a challenge for you! You know the ‘almost kissing meme’? Can you write the scene with Sannes in the background, third wheeling a couple of morally dubious, amateur torturers? Merci et a pui tarde.

thank you so much for this distracting prompt, my friend!! did wonders for my nerves 👌🏻🫰🏻

Almost kissing meme: wrong atmosphere

Characters: Hange, Levi, Sannes

Tags: tw torture, tw blood, tw canon typical violence really, levihan, levihan kiss (couldn't help it lol)

Hange lets the scalpel fall on the metallic tray behind them, and before Sannes is done screaming from that latest wound, seize what's quickly becoming their favorite weapon and shove it in between the edges of the deep, oozing wound on his stomach, fingers clenching around the electrical trigger.

His cries turn into muffled gurgles as he convulses against his bounds, and it's such a fascinating sight it takes half a minute for Hange to realize Levi's tapping their shoulder and trying to get their attention.

"Stop, Hange!" he calls out for what must be the tenth time, his eyes focused on the mush they've turned the man's abdominal skin into.

They release the button and take a tiny step back, turning halfway to stare at Levi with a frown and the scariest, most manic glint he's ever seen in their eyes -not helped by the fresh bood that's splattered all over their face.

"What? Come on Levi, don't tell me you're getting squeamish," they scold, sounding as angry as they do disappointed. "This guy murdered Nick, for fuck's sake, made him got through much more extensive torture than this before he-

"I know," Levi cuts in, sparing a glare to the pathetic human lump in front of them who's slumping in his seat wih his head bowed down, "I know. But don't you think you'll fuck that thing up by wetting it in all this blood?"

He's seen the way Hange practically drooled over this unique piece of technology they found while looking through MP arsenal a while back and he's had to listen to enough rants about its uses and misuses to know they've grown overly -and disturbingly, though not uncharacteristically- attached to it. And even if he doesn't much care for it himself, he's aware Hange's been meaning to study its applicability in the fight against Titans, and he definitely wouldn't want them to waste their only sample over this sorry specimen.

"Oh, but I won't!" they reassure him quickly, their foul mood seemingly gone in an instant. "This type of taser is top quality, you know, one of the most resistant from what I've read in that forbidden weaponry book you got me for my birthday. No, in fact I was wondering if electricity wouldn't conduct even better through blood, since it's mostly water! Tell me, Sannes, does the pain feel worse here," Hange asks as they apply it a short second onto healthy skin, "or here?" and then into the wound again.

Sannes only groans this time around, clenching his teeth and biting his tongue with the forced muscle contractions.

"I'm not your lab rat," he pants when he can speak again.

Hange sighs, straightening their back and legs as they tower over him. They stretch their arms high above their head, and Levi can't stop a snicker from showing on his face when he realizes what their next move is -and he hopes this doesn't give their prisoner any clue.

Thankfully, all it does is direct Sannes' attention to him in the form of a pointless glare, and makes him completely miss the cue when Hange lets one of their arms fall down swiftly, their full palm landing harshly against his cheek, slapping his face so hard his neck muscles allow for an unnatural angle between his head and body for a fraction of a moment before it lols back into place.

"You are whatever I want you to be right now," they purr, voice so low and dangerous it sends a not entirely unpleasant shiver down Levi's spine. "I'll do it again, so focus this time around."

"No need! The second, the second one was worse," Sannes gives in hurriedly, uselessly fighting against his restrains and just as Hange's taser was about to touch his cut flesh again.

"Hm, is that so?" Hange mumbles, retreating their threatening hand and petting his hair like they would their horse's with the other. "But that could be simple nociceptive pain from the wound itself, and not the neuropathic-like jolt of electricity... Let me clarify, because as a high ranking useless MP officer, I fear you may not be the sharpest tooth in the Titan's mooth," they add, giggling madly at their own joke. "Do you think the pain was more intense from the pressure I applied on those slashed guts of yours, or did the taser hit itself really feel more powerful there?"

"Wall's sake," Sannes snarls as he frees his head from their lose hold, clearly reinvigorated by the insult to his ego, "just stop talking, would you? That ought to be the worst torture you're putting me through right now."

He spits on the ground as he finishes his sentence, missing Hange's boots by a breath thanks to their quick jump aside, and grins up at them.

Hange hums quietly while Levi clicks his tongue at that silly mistake, and before Sannes sees it coming they leap forward, their right, taser-holding hand ahead of them while their left one supports their weight on the wooden back of the chair as they pull the trigger.

Sannes' eyes widen and he lets out a long, pathetic wail as the electricity surges into his groin and throughout his body at full force, and Hange's laugh echoes almost as loud.

"If you really think that's the worst part," they warn when his voice breaks, "boy do you have another thing coming."

They sound confident enough and Levi's pretty sure Sannes is fooled by that front -if he's conscious enough to hear them, that is, and the way his eyes keep rolling in his skull make Levi doubt it for a second- but he's known Hange for a long, long time, and he knows how shaken their friend's death and all the recent events have left them. Which is why he fears they're about to lose it, especially when he sees the way their hand shakes as they bring the taser up and against his ribcage.

"Don't!" Levi warns.

He grabs their wrist and swirls their body around, and Hange was so out of it it takes them a couple of seconds to speak again.

"What?" they ask once they're face to face, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Focus, shitty glasses," he whispers. "He could die right away if you do that."

Hange blinks a few times, processing his words.

And then a shy, almost embarrassed smile graces their lips.

"You listened," they realize, eyes lighting up with excitement and something else he's seen in there before but could never properly identify. "When I told you my hypothesis about how direct precordial tasing stimulation might kill someone because it would bypass the heart's natural impulse," they add, putting the taser down on the table and bringung their hand flat against his chest, right above his accelerating heartbeat, "you listened."

He only realizes how close they are standing and how intimate that gesture was when he feels them inhale sharply and when their own free hand timidly cups his forearm, keeping his hand in place against their cheek.

"I always listen to you, four-eyes. You don't give me much of a choice anyway," Levi replies with a shake of his head, one of his hand reflexively coming up to swipe at the blood stains on their face.

Their eyes meet his, the gorgeous dark brown of their irises a thin circle around the black of their blown out pupils. And Levi gets an idea.

An insane idea, one he's had before but never induldged into outside his own bed or shower, never dared to dwell on when Hange and their stupidly full lips were around to tempt him to act on it. One he should definitely not entertain right now, he tells himself.

Except he's not the one dangerously leaning in.

"Guess you were right. Watching a deranged freak like you make out with her assistant is definitely worse than that shit from before," Sannes taunts once more.

He's almost proud of himself when he spots the awed look on Hange's face as they take in the tooth on the floor, the bloodied drool at the corner of Sannes' mouth and the nearly exact same position Levi's standing in right now, like his right foot wasn't in that bastard's face not a flash of a second ago.

Levi doesn't need to think about it.

He automatically, gently but swiftly pushes Hange away, so there's nothing standing between him and Sannes before he makes his move.

"What?" he asks as nonchalantly as he can, shrugging. "He was being rude."

It hurts, the clash of their teeth against his and the way their glasses poke at his nose, the leather digging into his nape with the force they're using to keep him in place and their feet that lands on his own as they find their balance after their launched themself forward. It's a hurt he welcomes though, a pain that connects him to this world that's getting more and more fucked up every day, something real and loud and impossible to ignore.

Hange beams at him.

And then they grab the thin straps of his apron, tugging on them hard and crashing their lips against his.

Hange's gone before he gets a chance to properly respond, and if it wasn't for the loud pop that rings as they release his lower lip, Levi would think he's made up that unbelievable moment where they sucked on it.

"You have to teach me that flying tooth kicking technique some day, shorty," they say with a smirk as they let go of him, "it's way too hot for you to keep it to yourself."

They turn around again, facing the slobbering, wincing in disgust but finally quiet mess that's become of Sannes.

"Sure. There are so many things that are wrong with you, four eyes," Levi says to the tiny hairs sticking out at the back of their long neck, trying not to wonder how they would have felt under his palm if he'd had the time to touch them.

"Thank you," they reply, head turning to give him a wink. "In the mean time, I guess I'll just have to stick to the old fashioned teeth removal tools!" they add excitedly, picking up pliers from the table.

Levi hides in a smile, and gets closer to the chair to hold a now struggling Sannes' face in place as Hange forces his mouth open.

[evcryopeneye]

@nebulaties asked: that's all i'm gonna tell you, because that's all you need to know. Tilly from Nash

For a moment, she just stared at him, shocked and surprised. Though really, she shouldn’t have been. She should have known that of course, he wasn’t exactly going to start spilling classified information. Instead, she just drops her shoulders, both hands half thrown into the air in surrender, “ok, ok.”

Well. This was awkward.

The Ensign paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she made her way through the maze that was her mind. Running through a flow chart of options for her next movement. That was the thing with Tilly. Everything was over contemplated. Truth was, he probably didn’t care, and no one would remember what she had anyway, while Tilly tried to tell herself over and over and over again that she was paying more attention to herself than anyone else was, and it wasn’t that deep. It still left her feeling like shit.

“Do you want the tour? My shift doesn’t start for another couple of hours, and I can point out which replicators give you quadruple coffee.” Sure, it wasn’t standard, sure it was against relation, but like the captain gave a flying shit about the staff breaking recommended caffeine guidelines if it got the job done. The ship sailed (well), the day was saved, new insane physics was discovered. No harm no foul.

While it was a pretty regular day on the ship, she didn’t dare say it out loud, his presence here was not regular, and it came with a horrible insinuation - that shit was likely to hit the fan. Actually, on second thought, red alerts around here were pretty…regular.

Though, maybe it was just an attempt to not address the elephant in the room. That she was still here. While Discovery was not. Not exactly the first topic of conversation she wanted to discuss at the only family reunion she was happy about.

[businessconsiderations]

There's Always Minecraft

Yesterday morning my youngest son had a soccer game. We were much better than the other team but weren't finishing our chances so midway through the second half were only up 1-0. Probably should have been up 3 or 4.

But then one of our forwards got fouled in the box. My son is the regular penalty taker and confidently hustled to the spot, ready to put us up 2 and effectively seal the game.

A couple weeks ago at a tournament, we were up 1-0 and my son missed a PK. He sailed it over the goal. He usually goes bottom left, and afterward he told me he was trying something different. It didn't end up matter as we hung on to win that game and qualify for the finals. The finals ended 0-0, we went to penalties, and my son was one of our 5 penalty takers. He made his but again chose to try something different than bottom right.

Regardless, it felt like the penalty miss was well behind us. He had got his retribution later in the day. And played well leading up to it, nearly scoring a goal at the end of regulation to win.

Well, yesterday he didn't go bottom left yet again. Opted for top right, and put it ever so slightly over the bar. Again it didn't matter. Shortly thereafter we scored another to go up 2-0. Even earned another penalty. My son was on the bench for that. Coach took him out for a 5-10 minute spell after his miss to give him a breather. Our replacement penalty taker, probably our best player, missed his chance too. So we won 2-0 when it should have been 4, could have been 8.

After the game, I said what I always say--and what I always mean--I loved watching you play. He was sad about the miss. I said that happens. He said, yeah, but now I'm not going to be the penalty taker anymore. No idea if his coach said so, or if my son made that up in his head. But he knew a few kids on the opposing team, and he seemed to think they plus some of his teammates will think less of him.

I reminded him that as long as he believes in himself, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.

We went to Waffle House and talked some more about the game. And then some more about life.

On the drive home I asked if he wanted to stop at another park and do some shooting since he already has his ball and his cleats. He said sure.

We messed around doing penalties, him taking them, me halfheartedly trying to save them. He made most, missed a few. He said he wasn't doing well.

I said, ok focus, let's go, right now, 10 in a row. We are not stopping until you make 10 in a row. And I'm going to go all out as keeper to save them. I figured this would take a while.

But it didn't. He made his next 10 in a row. Most of them hitting the side netting. I wanted to end on a high note and said let's go home. But he wanted to work on a few other things, so we messed around for another 20 minutes or so.

When we were ready to go home--me excited to watch the Man City game, him to play Fortnite with his friends--I asked him if he wanted to end on one more challenge. It's the 88th minute, nil-nil, your teammate gets fouled in the box, you are the penalty taker, you have one shot. Make it and I'll give you $20 for V-Bucks. Miss it and you can't play Fortnite for the rest of the day.

He said, let's do it.

He lined up at the spot. I got on my line and bounced around like a keeper in a penalty shoot out. A few beats later I yelled, "whistle." And without hesitation he banged into the side netting, his best shot of the day.

On the drive home I played "We are the Champions" and "Simply the Best" and "All I do is Win" and "One Moment in Time."

Later that night, after a few hours of playing Fortnite with his friends online, when he was showing me the ninja emote he bought with his V-Bucks, I asked him if he was nervous to take that deal.

He said no because had he missed it, there's was always Minecraft.

[daytonwentupinflames]

--

[taechaos]

Your Boy, No?

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: You can't stand seeing Jungkook with another girl, so you give him a piece of your mind in a stranger's bedroom by becoming his outlet of sexual frustration.

warnings: losing virginity, riding, degradation

a/n: jungkook's character is not exactly submissive, so i added my own twists to this request. i hope you don't mind @madygswich c:

word count: 2.5k

You can't stop pouting. Holding back tears when seeing a woman perched up on Jungkook's lap while they make out has proven to be difficult, but you're trying. It hurts your heart; hell, you're aching everywhere. It doesn't take a genius to know he's doing it to get a reaction out of you when his eyes are throwing daggers at you with his tongue down another girl's throat.

Following Jungkook around like a lost puppy isn't ideal, especially at a frat party. He never gives you the time of the day if it's not out of menace, but you aren't willing to give up on him. It's just not possible when you are so in love with him, and so fucking jealous.

More than Jungkook, you're mad at the girl. You want to rip her heart out, make her suffer for ever touching the love of your life. You're becoming irrational, mentally cussing her out for being a whore while you stop yourself from breaking down in a house filled with horny young adults. You don't know a single person here, and you have to deal with your pent up emotions all by yourself.

You choke out a sob when Jungkook starts kneading the girl's ass shamelessly with her skirt hiked up to her back. They're being so inappropriate in the kitchen of a stranger's house, while you can't even take a sip from your spiked drink in the bustling living room. You abruptly stand up and throw away your plastic cup when Jungkook's hand disappears elsewhere, and you have an idea of what he's about to do. You march over to him, looking absolutely tiny next to the overbearing college students and you don't notice Jungkook's sinister smile as he watches you fume.

"Let go," you sound hoarse, and not at all intimidating when you push the girl off of his lap. She stumbles at the force, but you pay no mind to her confusion as you pull Jungkook up by his arm to drag him away. You think it's the anger and adrenaline giving you so much strength, but it's Jungkook amusing himself by allowing you to take him upstairs.

"This isn't a therapy session, little girl," he yells over the music, "I didn't come here to listen to you cry."

You huff and let a single tear slip before harshly wiping it away. When you reach the hallway, you enter the first bedroom you find. It's occupied by a foreplaying couple, but you're driven as you hiss, "Out!"

They leave at your demand, and you're confusing a lot of people tonight. Jungkook is surprised by your sudden aggression, but he doesn't stop with his remarks, "the chihuahua's gone mad."

"Shut up, Jungkook!" you whirl around angrily to face him. "How could you do that to me?!"

He quirks a brow. "Do what to you? I'm sorry, am I the one who forcefully brought you here? Am I tripping or are you?"

You push at his chest, "you're a fucking whore! Tonguing a girl in front of everyone, in front of me?"

His shoulders shake in silent laughter and you cross your arms when he starts cackling loudly. The music is drowned out and muffled behind the door, but it's nothing compared to how hysterically Jungkook is laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask lamely. He throws his head back as he clutches his stomach, and you're starting to get annoyed. You push him on the bed, but he's still laughing. "Quit it already," your voice wavers, but you don't back down as you smack his chest. You place your knees on both sides of his hips to limit his movement and cover his mouth to shut him up.

His crescent eyes turn intense instantly as he glares at you under his hooded lids. He exerts only a tiny bit of his energy into pushing your hand away and you weakly collapse on him. It's foul play to compete with his muscles, and you realize he can snap you in half if he wanted to regardless of your rush of adrenaline.

You sit back up as he lowly speaks, "The fuck's it to you? I wanted to fuck her, and I was going to until you stepped in as if you're my girlfriend. Tell me why I shouldn't go back to her right now." He clasps his hands under his head, making himself comfortable with your weight pressing against his crotch.

"You know why," you huff with a frown, and you look so cute in the dim lighting with your baggy knitted sweater bunching up on the sleeves, sitting on his bulge with so much innocence in your expression. He's smitten, but it doesn't show in his cold stare. "I'm your girl, and I won't tolerate you messing around with other women. It's slutty!" You slightly bounce for emphasis, but your knee-length skirt hides your actions. Jungkook feels it with you, and his eyes trail down to your lower region.

"My girl?" he parrots with a raised brow. He gazes back into your eyes. "You do my homework."

"I don't care. I love you," you plead pathetically, "please say you love me back."

"Wasn't I a whore just a second ago?"

"You were! Apologize to me," you harshly yank his head back by his hair. He doesn't react in the slightest, so you softly add, "please."

"Oh little girl," he sighs, "are you really trying to dominate me right now?"

"I am dominating you. Promise me you won't kiss another girl like that again. I won't forgive you a second time."

"Yeah? What's my loss?"

"Well, you're lazy in school," you bluntly state, "and no one loves you like I do. No one would try to cater to you like I do. I'd do anything for you, Kookie." You tug down your skirt to take it off and plop back down on him before saying, "Including sex. You can only use me for your sexual needs."

He's enamored by your words, but he doesn't dare share it with you. Instead, he thrusts upwards and you yelp when you jump. "Go on then," he says nonchalantly. "Show me how much of a slut you are."

"U-Um, okay," you stutter and start unzipping his black denim jeans. You've seen a lot of porn videos to make sure you were prepared for the next step with Jungkook, but you have no experience with penetration.

And he realizes that rather quickly when you're so meek with your actions. With a groan, he asks, "You're not a fucking virgin, are you?"

"I've been saving it for the right guy," you answer with offence. This is a special occasion, and you want him to take it as seriously as you do. But it's definitely not a good idea to be snarky with him when you can barely remember the steps for safe sex. "Do you have a condom?"

"It's in my pocket," he grumbles and points at his front without taking it out himself. You're excited and nervous as you tear the wrapper and take out the preservative. You have no idea how to put it on, but you're topping so you clumsily push down his briefs. Jungkook is surprisingly throbbing under you, and you blush at the sight of his erection.

He stops himself from teasing you and saying that the girl from earlier gave him this boner, but he doesn't want to be cruel yet. It's your first time, and truthfully, he jacks off to thought of you too often anyway. He can handle being somewhat nice by staying quiet, but that doesn't mean he would teach you how to put on a condom.

You slip it on with little struggle, and don't waste any time in positioning his cock in your entrance. Before he can stop you, you sink down on his length with a painful moan. He wants to tell you that losing your virginity in this position is the most painful, but instead he groans, "Holy shit, how are you so fucking tight?"

It hurts so fucking bad. Your tear ducts are like clockwork as they water instantly, but you lower yourself down to the hilt anyway. You're quite literally sitting on his cock as you try to catch your breath because God, you're in so much pain.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asks, but he's more worried about controlling himself from fucking into you before you can adjust. It's difficult, but he's trying.

"Jungkook," you whimper quietly with your eyes screwed shut, "it hurts."

"You're so fucking dumb for doing this, but you feel so fucking good," he pants as he holds your hips.

"Thank you," you muster out in a breath. A few seconds pass until the pain starts to numb, and you move against him very slowly. Your walls are stinging, but it feels like Heaven for Jungkook who you clench down on.

"Go up and down," he instructs with a bit lip. He tries to move your hips, but you're resisting in fear of another shock of pain. "Come on!"

"Can you wait?" you hiss through clenched teeth.

He's trying to rile you up when he says, "Sana wouldn't take this fucking long."

And it works, because you bounce once. "Don't say her name!"

He groans at your tightness, and he can't believe how wet you are. You're dripping on him, and he curses himself for holding back because of your hopeless romance. He can't entertain your conservative way of going on about this any longer, so he continues, "She would have made me cum by now, but this prissy princess can't even get a move on."

It's almost pathetic how one push from Jungkook makes you start moving, and it feels less uncomfortable to hop up and down against his pelvis. The filthy sound of slapping skin mixing with the generic radio music is making you feel so slutty because it's so stereotypical, but when Jungkook moans, it brings heat all over your body. You take your sweater off when sweat begins to cumulate on your temples, and he commands, "Take off your bra too."

He's thrusting into you as you unclasp the black material, freeing your breasts as he finds his new eyecandies. You are so pretty, your nipples are so hard, and your cunt sucks him in so perfectly. It almost upsets him when he realizes how much pleasure he's deprived himself of; the amount only you seem to be able to provide, because it's beyond physical intimacy.

"Good girl," he exhales and gently slams into you with his hands fondling your tits. You smile coyly through your tears, and he asks, "Does it still hurt?"

You contemplate for a second, because you don't feel the best yet, but you don't want to disappoint Jungkook either. "I-It doesn't," you lie.

Jungkook mentally rolls his eyes; he really wants to believe you so he can chase his high, but he sees right through you. He slaps your tit without mercy and chastises you, "don't lie. I thought this was your little moment of control."

"I'm sorry," you pout as you slowly ride him.

"Another lie," he slaps your other tit more harshly and you yelp.

"I'm not lying!" you plead and hasten your pace, desperate to sell your lie. It's working, because you're starting to feel a knot in your stomach the more you adjust.

He moans with you, and you lose yourself when he stills your hips and begins to fuck you himself. It's rough, loud, and the pain is your pleasure. His balls slap against your skin as he easily slides in and out of you with the help of your arousal. Your love dawns on him when you're so turned on for him without any foreplay, and he's on cloud nine because nothing can compare to being inside you.

The setting is so unlike you, fucking in someone's bedroom with a bunch of people behind the unlocked door who can barge in at any given moment, but he finds it so sexy. You only care about being with him, and you really do look like his slut now.

His hands start holding onto your ass, kneading it until it turns red with his fingerprints, and he demands you to kiss him. You're out of it, your ears are ringing and you can only moan out his name, but you can't bear to ignore him. Your lips fall on his, and the kiss is sloppy with his tongue all over your mouth. You can't keep up, but your chest swells with pride when you realize how needy he is for you. He goes as far as to spit in your mouth, and you swallow it without hesitation.

"You want me to play with your clit?" he murmurs against your lips, and his voice sounds so airy and melodic to your ears. "Hm? Want me to make you feel good, little slut?"

You whine without a clear response because his lips feel so soft and wet, and that's the only thing you can focus on. All you want to do is kiss him and he doesn't stop you from doing so, but you're even more overwhelmed when he starts touching you while penetrating you. "No," you whimper, "I'll cum."

"A slut can take it," he grunts and rubs your clit faster, and you come undone all too soon. You moan loudly as you tremble, shaking as he rides out your high with a pinch to your clit. You're numb when you collapse on top of him, but he's relentless with his thrusts. He's using your body as you intended, and he's vocal with his pleasure and teasing climax. It's remarkable how he holds you up when you've gone limp and still fucks you just as hard.

You want to record his voice when he starts to whine pathetically, but you have no energy left within. He's panting in your ear, and it's not long before his hips fall on the mattress with a sigh. He's surprised by how powerful his orgasm was, as he fills the condom with his release instantly. His cock is still nestled inside you as both of you recover from your climax.

"Get off," he taps your thigh, and he pushes you off when you don't obey immediately. Your spell has worn off as he starts to dress himself. "I'm going back to the dorms." You listen to him with your mind in a haze. "Unless you want to get raped on your way without me, get the fuck up now."

"Can you carry me please?"

He shrugs and swings your arm over his shoulder, picking up your body with ease. He collects your clothes in his hand, but doesn't hand them to you as he steps out of the room.

"W-Wait, Jungkook, I'm naked-"

"You're my girl, no? Be a good slut and shut the fuck up."

Dangling off his shoulder with your bare tits pressed against his back, you close your eyes and drift off on the way to campus.

Boyfriends typically drop their girlfriends off anyway, right?

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

[justmeandmysickies]

@angstyaches I'm still not 100% satisfied with how this turned out but I hope it's still enjoyable. As always thanks for your request.

He isn't scared, just a little worried

characters: Nick and Joe warnings: emeto, panic attacks

"Babe, you need to calm down."

"Calm down, my ass! I'm about to get on a plane! Do you know how slim the chances of survival are in the case of a plane crash?“

"In fact, I do. They are at about 95%. So you'll be fine. Whether we crash or not."

Joe was stuck somewhere between anger and having a panic attack. He had gone from claiming to be fine to snappy and annoyed; and a while ago he had announced that he was feeling nauseous so the two of them had relocated to the bathroom. Instead of sitting down however, Joe simply started pacing around the small room.

Nick really wanted to help his boyfriend, but the problem was: nothing he said or did seemed to do the trick.

"Great, smartass. That makes me feel better." Joe stated sarcastically, stopping for a second to glare at his boyfriend.

"It should."

"Well it doesn't!" Joe snapped, his breathing picking up in pace. This was exactly why he never flew. Even the hours before the flight sucked ass and he never knew how to deal with himself in these situations. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

"I think I'm sick." He said, trying but failing to take a deep breath.

Nick was confused at the sudden statement. "Sick? Why do you think that?“

"I feel nauseous and it's hard to breathe. Maybe I caught a bug."

Nicholas couldn't help but chuckle a little bit.

"What the hell is so funny?"

"You being oblivious." Joe raised an eyebrow at that. "You're not sick, babe. You're panicking. It's no secret you're scared of flying so I'm not surprised you're feeling this way."

"I'm not scared, I'm just a little worried that's all." Nick wasn't sure if Joe was trying to convince him or rather himself.

The pacing helped a little bit, it took Joes mind off the thoughts racing through his head. Unfortunately he was getting considerably dizzy. Enough to make him stop walking for a second as he felt the room starting to tilt. He held onto the sink with one hand and pressed the other to his mouth as he started salivating. The nausea increased overwhelmingly and he repositioned himself so that he was leaning over the toilet.

"I'm gonna puke."

Nick sighed. "No, you're not. Will you please just relax? You'll be fine, I promise."

"No, I'm actually gonna puke." He'd just finished his sentence when a harsh gag forced it's way out of his mouth. His knees buckled and he would have hit the floor if it hadn't been for Nick who caught him just in time. He'd grabbed him under his arms and lowered him to the ground gently.

"Relax, let it happen. You might feel better after." Nick was a little taken aback by the fact that his boyfriend was actually going to vomit. He’d thought the brunette was just being a bit dramatic.

Joe however, had no intention to 'let it happen'. He fought down the next gag, forcefully swallowing against the feeling.

He had been sitting on the bathroom floor for almost 20 minutes now, doing nothing but spitting nauseously into the toilet every now and then.

"I can't believe you actually convinced me to go to Australia." Joe moaned, leaning back over the toilet. It was getting harder and harder to fight the nausea.

Nick was really trying to help but he was simply at a loss for what to do. He had never seen his boyfriend freak out like that before and if he was being entirely honest, he was a little overwhelmed with the situation.

They still had almost two hours before they had to leave for the airport, but Joe was a nervous wreck already.

"Seriously, how did I let you talk me into flying? I hate this." Joe groaned, carefully putting a hand on his stomach. His nausea was increasing with every passing minute.

Nick had heard that exact same sentence over and over again during the last few hours and he was getting irritated. It seemed like his boyfriend wasn't even trying to be reasonable. He was still obviously fighting being sick, not even considering the fact that it might make him feel better.

"Fine. If you don't want to go, you don't have to. I'll just visit my parents by myself and I'll see you in a week." Nick said, tone uncharacteristically serious.

Joe was quiet for a moment before he sighed heavily. He knew how much Nick hated visiting his parents, especially alone. He would never admit it but he would choose his own pain over his boyfriend’s any time.

"No, I'm coming." Initially he was going to add 'I'll be fine' but Joe honestly wasn't so sure about that. Even if they could survive a plane crash, they would probably end up paralyzed. Or even worse, what if only one of them made it out alive? How would the other live with that for the rest of their life? And just the thought of the plane going down-

He hadn't even realized his breathing getting out of control until Nick put a hand to his chest.

"Baby, stop. Seriously. You need to take a deep breath, okay? Get that breathing under control." All anger Nick had felt just a few seconds ago immediately made space for worry as Joe started to hyperventilate. Seeing his usually so composed boyfriend in this state was actually giving Nick goosebumps.

Joe tried to take a breath, tried not to think about everything that could happen, but his mind kept wandering to the picture of a crash. The feeling of the plane going down - diving straight to the floor.

As the plane in his thoughts dropped, his stomach followed suit. He gagged harshly at the feeling, making Nick jump a little.

"Babe, can you try to take a breath for me, please?" Nick tried but Joe wasn't having any of it.

"I don't need help breathing Nick, I'm not a child." That statement sounded quite ridiculous coming from someone who was panting harder than he would after running 10 miles.

It didn't matter though if he accepted his situation or not. He couldn’t fight his body any longer - it was taking control and Joe had no say in it.

His panting turned into retching. Dry at first but soon a particularly nasty sounding retch finally brought up a wave of foul-smelling liquid.

Nick cringed as his boyfriend gasped for air before heaving up a second round of vomit.

In between waves of sick, Joe was fighting for every breath. His face was ashen, and Nick was seriously worried the younger was going to pass out right then and there. He put an arm around Joe, so that he wouldn't fall forward and hit his head on the toilet seat, just in case.

This went on for three minutes and by the time Joe had finished being sick, black spots were dancing in his vision.

"What the hell just happened?" Joe breathed out, wiping his mouth with a piece of toilet paper.

"You freaked out and made yourself puke. That can happen when you panic, it's usually no reason to worry too much." Nick answered honestly as he carefully rubbed circles on his boyfriends back.

"So did I just have a- like a panic attack?"

Nick felt a pang of sympathy at the question. Joe wasn't used to feeling like this. Back when he was living on the streets, he had learned to lock away his feelings. All of them. Even his fears. And something as simple as flying leaving him this vulnerable must have felt horrible.

"Yeah, something like that. You worked yourself up babe, it happens. Don't overthink it. How are you feeling now?" Nick asked, noting how Joes breathing seemed to have calmed down significantly.

"Better, I think. I can breathe better. Not as nauseous." Exhaustion was evident in his voice, but Nick was still relieved to see his boyfriend slowly return back to normal.

"I still don't want to get on the plane." Joe mumbled almost non-audibly as he got back to his feet. It wasn’t like him to whine like that, but he couldn’t help it.

Nick sighed. "Josh, when I said you could stay here, I meant it. I'll be fine."

Once again Joe shook his head at the offer. "I'm afraid you might take your mom's head off if I'm not there to supervise you."

"Well, I'm not making any promises and I'll be sure to make you an accomplice so we can go to jail together. I wouldn't want you to miss an adventure like that." Nick said sweetly, giving his boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek.

The latter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. I guess I'll have to go with you then, to make sure you stay out of trouble."

Nick smiled but he was still worried. "Are you sure? It's a 15-hour flight after all."

"I'm not sure at all but backing out is not an option. It's not like I haven't flown before, I don't know why this time is so bad."

"You're just having a bad day, that's all. We still have about 15 minutes left before we have to leave for the airport. Do you wanna cuddle on the couch like a real domestic couple?" Nick suggested it in his usual silly manner, but he meant it.

Joe scrunched up his face. "Ew."

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Yes."

Nick smiled like a dork as he led his boyfriend to the couch. Joe would be fine. He always was.

[karlajoyner]

Stole My heart (Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so there’s this imagine let me know if I should make a part 2? Possibly a smut? I don’t know let me know! Also let me know if I should post these on wattpad too!!!

Warnings: None

————

"Owen seriously if someone catches us I'm gonna kill you"

"No ones gonna catch us. They're filming a scene" He mumbled leaving a trail of kisses down my neck.

"That's what you said last time"

"They didn't catch us" He said pushing my shirt down my shoulder.

"Yeah but they almost did- wait. Are you? Owen" I scolded pushing him away.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"What do you mean what? The makeup department will literally kill me if I show up with another hickey. Then their gonna interrogate me like they did last time since there are limited people I see daily" I groaned.

"They're not gonna kill you y/n. Relax"

"I can't relax. Now that we landed a season 2 the chances of us getting caught are much higher now. Plus my character has such a bigger part now" I spoke pacing back and forth in the dimly lit room. Julie's room set to be exact.

"I know. But you can't let that get to you now. You did amazing the first season and your gonna kill it this season. And if we get caught then oh well"

"Oh well? Oh well. Owen I already told you I don't want anyone to know about us until-"

"Until we're sure it's not gonna effect our worth ethic. I know" He muttered sitting down on the bed. I sighed realizing he was upset. It was never my intention to date my co-star. Let alone fall in love with him. But after spending countless of hours on set and off set with him there was no denying the chemistry. And what to everyone seemed like an amazing friendship was actually something more.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I wish things could be different but-"

"But this is your first big part. I get it" he said moving to sit me on his lap.

"I'll back off. We'll just have to keep sneaking around"

"Owen-"

"No harm. No foul. If this is what I have to do to be with you I'll do it" He said kissing the spot he had previously been sucking on.

"And I'd do it again" He whispered kissing my skin once more.

"And again" Another kiss.

"And again" He spoke finally meeting my lips. The kiss last longer than the ones shared previously. It was much more passionate on both ends. The risk of getting caught high.

"Owen" I giggled as he flipped us over on the bed.

"Yes?" He questioned as his fingers made their way up my shirt.

"Baby" I moaned as his hands cupped my left boob.

"Mmm" He muttered against my lips.

"We've got to get back on set soon. I have a scene with Jer" I panted pulling away.

"Don't do it"

"Owen" I warned.

"Fine" He groaned getting off me.

"But for the record if they did know we were dating I would not give my approval for the stupid kissing scene" He said kicking the ground like a little kid. Referring to the fact that my character became Reggies love interest this season.

"Be careful there babe the jealousy is peeking through. Just be lucky he's married and they cut it down from a whole make out scene" I teased checking myself in the full length mirror.

"Yeah yeah. God the unholy things I would've done to you in that bed" He whispered in my ear as his hands explored my body.

"Don't temp me Joyner" I said a smirk making it's way onto his face.

"I'm here!" I called running onto set.

"Finally! Where were you?" Charlie asked exasperatedly standing beside Kenny who was looking at script at hand.

"We don't have time to interrogate her Charlie we've got to get this scene filmed if we wanna stick to schedule. Y/n next time be on set 5 minutes before"

"Yes Kenny. Sorry I was um was distracted. Lost track of time" I said noticing Owen had walking onto set casually going to talk to Mads and Savannah.

"Okay so this scene your gonna walk in on cue to your mark. Find Luke sitting on the couch playing his guitar. Sentimental talk. Confess your undying love for Reggie. Then Jers gonna come in tell y/c/n he loves her too. But he can't be with her because he had this girlfriend back in 95 who he never officially broke up with. Then he says screw it. You kiss. End scene"

"Oh the kiss. That's this scene?" I asked finding Owen who was deeply in conversation.

"Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"No, no I'm ready" I said not expecting to have to do this in front of my secret boyfriend right now.

I sighed going to stand on my beginning mark. I watched as Charlie did the same.

The lights dimming in the studio to replicate nightfall.

"And action!" Kenny yelled.

I opened the barn like doors walking in slowly.

"Oh Luke. I didn't know you were here sorry I'll go-"

"No. No it's okay. I was just messing around. What's up?"

"I was looking for Reggie"

"Looking for Reggie? Oh he's with Alex and Willie. He should be back soon"

"Then I'll just go. Thanks I guess"

"Wait. Can I play you something?" Charlie questioned taking a hold of my wrist.

"Um sure. Why not?" I asked sitting down next to him. I listened as he began strumming his guitar to a familiar tune. A small smile forming on my lips.

"That was great Luke. Did you write that? Maybe about someone whose name rhymes with Judy" I spoke in a teasing matter.

"No. Actually Reggie wrote it. About someone who name rhymes with yours" He said a blush forming on my face.

"Okay. I get what your saying" I said playfully rolling my eyes.

"Good. I thought I'd have to follow up with home is where my horse is" He said making me giggle.

"How could I possibly tell a ghost who died 25 years ago that I'm completely head over heels for him?"

"Maybe the same way your telling a ghost who died 25 years ago right now" Charlie said jokingly bumping my shoulder.

"Right... I just- I don't want to get rejected by a ghost. It's one thing when they're alive but if the dead doesn't want me I think that's saying something"

"Y/n, Reggies in love with you. He'd be thrilled if you showed any romantic interest in him. At least more than you already do" He teased me once again.

"Thanks Luke. I just hope he doesn't freak out on me like last time"

"Last time?"

"Yeah last time I brought up relationships in a topic he got all weird and left. So I just never did it again"

"Oh. Look y/c/n back in 95 we had a decent following and a ton of girls following after us" A strange look forming on Charlie's face.

"Okayyy" I stretched out the word.

"And Reggie. You know him he uh well he's a fl-" Charlie words were cut off.

On cue Jeremy strolled into the studio set as Charlie and I sat facing each other stiffly.

I stifled a giggle knowing this would later be edited so it'd look like Jer flashed in out of nowhere.

"Y/c/n? Luke?"

"Oh Reggie. Hi" I stood up continuing the scene.

"Hey. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be home"

"I was. Julie invited me over for a bit and I thought I'd say hi before I uh left. I though maybe we could talk for a bit"

"Oh. Okay yeah" He slightly smiled before turning to the brunette beside me.

"And what are you still doing here?" Jeremy asked looking at Charlie.

"Hey, I was just leaving man. She's all yours" Charlie smirked at us before walking off set.

Jer and I paused until his footsteps could no longer be heard before continuing.

"So um what did you want to talk about?"

"Just um stuff" I said standing still in my spot.

"What stuff?" He asked coming to stand in front of me.

"Luke. He played me your song" I said picking up the piece of paper with chicken scratch from the coffe table.

"Lifer Girl?" I finally read the title before looking up into his brown eyes.

"Uh yeah. I'm still working on the name. Did you like it?"

"I loved it. This lifer girl. She's one lucky girl. Do I know her?"

"Of course you do. Your practically the same person" he said a piece of my hair falling to the front of my face. I nervously played with my fingers as he pushed the strand behind my ears.

"Oh. Can you tell me about her?"

"Well she's funny and makes me feel happy when I'm around her. She's really smart and her grades skyrocket compared to what mine use to be. And she's beautiful, drop dead gorgeous" He whispered tilting my head up with his fingers.

For a moment I looked up into his brown eyes wishing. Longing for them to be someone else's. I felt his finger leave my chin before he turned away dramatically.

"I shouldn't"

"Shouldn't?" I asked curiously.

"I can't"

"Can't? Why not?" I questioned once more.

"Y/c/n there's something I need to tell you"

"What is it Reg?"

"Back in 1995 you know before we died. I uh-"

"You what?" I asked urging him to continue.

"I had a girlfriend and well then we died. So we never officially broke up" Jer said.

"Oh" I mumbled backing away from him.

"I get it"

"No wait y/c/-"

"No Reggie it's okay. Your still in love with her. Of course you are. God how could I be so stupid to think that you'd actually love me. Let alone like m-" My eyes widened as I felt him crash his lips into mine completely going off script. Which wasn't uncommon. But it was supposed to be a short kiss. There were lines that were missing.

Slowly I pretended to sink into the kiss. Pulling away after a couple of seconds amongst hearing the word.

"Cut!" Kenny yelled Jeremy finally letting me go.

"That was amazing! Spectacular! Great improve Jer! We're done with this scene!" He called out to us. But all I could focus on was the look plastered on Owens face. He was hurt. But not because of the kiss. But because of the fact that he couldn't do that. Not out in public anyways.

"Yeah great going Jer" I commented to the boy in front of me.

"Thanks y/n. You did great too" He said getting near me.

"But if I were you I'd go talk to your boyfriend before he bursts" He whispered in my ear leaving me wide eyed.

"H-how'd you?"

"Know? Please everyone knows. I mean you guys aren't great at hiding things. There's actually a poll between Kenny and Charlie. Whichever one of you slips up firsts. My bets on Owen" He chuckled.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Seriously"

“Who was the first one to know"

"Sonya in makeup. The first hickey you showed up with only matched with the timeframe that you and Owen had been together. Clearly not getting lunch like you had said you were"

"That long?" I asked.

"Yup" He spoke popping his p.

"Just don't tell anyone I told you. Carolynn insisted I put you out of your misery"

"Thanks. I think" He smiled at me before walking away.

A grin began to form on my face as I made my way toward the blonde who was leaning against a wall twirling one of his drumsticks in his left hand.

"Hey. Great scene back there" He commented as I now stood in front of him.

"Thanks. You know Jers a good kisser and all but I think your better" I spoke aloud noticing Savannah's and Madison's head whipping towards us.

"What?" He asked making sure he heard right.

"You heard me Joyner" I spoke giggling at his shocked reaction.

"Now shut up and kiss me would you?" He tilted his head to be extra sure. Something I adored about him.

He always wanted to make sure I was certain about these things. I simply nodded feeling his arms wrap around me bringing his lips to meet mine.

I smiled into the kiss as he turned us around pushing me up against the wall. I giggled upon hearing clapping around us from the cast and crew.

"Finally!" I heard Savannah shout.

"Keep it PG kids!" Kenny shouted laughter following.

"You owe me 20 Gillespie!" He yelled again followed by a groan by presumably Charlie. I finally pulled away first leaving Owen in shock.

"I'm gonna need you to come back to reality lover boy" I said rubbing my thumb against his cheek.

"What made you change your mind?" He asked keeping a tight hold on my waist.

"Let's just say you have Carolynn to thank for that. Apparently everyone knew"

"What? How?"

"I guess we weren't as good at keeping a secret as we thought"

"How long?"

"First hickey"

“That long?"

"That's what I said" I laughed as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"You two are so cute"

"Thanks Mads" I smiled at the girl.

Finally able to wrap my arms around the boy who had stolen my heart without any warning.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet, and he reluctantly breathes out. 

"I'll see what I can do." I can hear the satisfaction in his voice that I'm having to call him. 

Within the next forty minutes there's more people here than I'm comfortable with, groupies, and hangerson, and other drug adoring morons, and then my saving grace comes through the door once Steven lets him in. 

Slash is already slipping into a Jack induced stupor. Sally came in a few minutes ago screaming at all of us guys for leaving her at the Cat House. 

We didn't even realize we'd forgotten her. 

She's in the bathroom, probably keeping herself in there to keep from starting an argument with Slash in front of everyone. 

Robbin's on the phone with Laurie.

Apparently it's just in men's nature to get fucked up, call our wives, and profess our undying love for them despite the fact we cheat on them nearly every time we hangout with our friends. 

I wonder what would happen if I went in there on her and Duff right now. 

What would she say? 

Probably nothing. 

She'd just look at the floor and try not to cry, probably. 

What would I do? 

I know that I know what's going on between them, but if I actually walked in and saw them together, caught in the act…

I'd either be a pussy and cry over it, or kill them both--him first and make her watch, and then just slowly torture her or something. God, I'm fucked up. Even though I'm pretty sure being married to me is torture enough to her. 

I know it's torture to me, too. 

"Here dude," Sparkie hands me a syringe and a spoon, and I look at him, too out of focus to concentrate on getting it right. 

"Fix me." I say to him and he scoffs. 

"Okay, dude." He starts getting it ready and I look at that wall again. Staring at it, taking a sip of my drink. 

Fucking Vivian. 

Of course. Her. Of all the women I've hooked up with and dated in my life, she--the most harmless, at least in my dumbfuck mind when I first met her--is the one to screw me over like this. 

And I've let her. 

If I did what Vince does to Sharise and have that whole, "no hanging out with your boy friends without me" rule, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

That's the problem. Somewhere along the way I loosened her leash a little too much and now she's chewed her way through it entirely. 

"You look like you're in hell, you know," Sparkie tells me, fixing the tourniquet around my arm… "But that's okay, you're about to be in heaven in just a few seconds." He assures me. 

I know he's right. I just need to hang on to that. 

In just a few seconds, I'll be--

I hear Vivian, again, and I reach around my neck and grab onto her cross I've been wearing for weeks, now, squeezing it at the sting of the needle going into my skin. 

I feel him shoot me up, my mind waiting to chase and catch the high that I just know is about to come. 

My fingers slip from the crucifix, and I feel myself fall back before a weightless feeling washes over me.

Present

I keep rereading the damn paper, repeatedly, trying my hardest not to throw a fit...

Nikki Sixx and his wife, Vivian, recently confirmed that she is indeed pregnant issuing a simple and straightforward,"Yes, it's true," statement earlier this week through Nikki's manager, and--as speculated--her pregnancy is not with Nikki. Many fans and some friends of the couple are blown out of the water by this sudden turn of events, others who are familiar with the rockstar and his band but never really paid much attention to his personal relationships, are now curious as to who exactly Vivian Sixx is. Well, in an open letter, rumored to be intended for print in Rolling Stone, a few anonymous former roadies of Mötley Crüe--who partook on their Girls, Girls, Girls, tour in 1987--are here to introduce who they saw behind the scenes of flashing cameras and public sweet moments with husband Nikki. 

"This is a letter to Mötley Crüe fans, we're a mere handful of people out of the many who witnessed monstrosities behind the scenes while on tour with the Crüe since Summer of 1987, none of which were caused by the band or any members, themselves, but one woman in particular. We had no reason to really bring any of this up, but in light of recent news, we are disheartened and angered of the betrayal against one of the four men who gave us an opportunity to live several months in our lives that will forever impact us in the best way known, and provide heartwarming memories by the dozen. This is not an attack on Nikki Sixx, especially given his past struggles with opioid addiction, alcoholism, as well as his abusive wife. The first time we met Vivian, she was polite and friendly, but very assertive. It was obvious it would be her way or no way,  and often times she and Nikki would go back and forth with who was running things. It was obvious Nikki was unwell at times, whether it'd be hungover, sick from withdrawal or simply tired from a show the night before. Vivian would choose these times when he was at his most exhausted to pick fights with him. He'd tell her to go away or 'f**k off,' and she'd continue to verbally and mentally beat him down more than he clearly already was. When Rolling Stone came to interview the band shortly after the wild rumor Vanity started publicly, we were told Vivian had tried to physically attack the reporter working on the story, simply because he made the comment that Pepsi wasn't good for her. Small things like that would often set her off, leaving security, managers, and band members to try to dodge fists while pulling her off of her unsuspecting victim, who was typically Nikki. Many times we'd hear them arguing in the hotel rooms, dressing rooms, bathrooms, tour bus, etc., usually followed by sounds of what we can only describe as 'pitchy, hungry, pornstar moans' on her part--clearly using her body to get back in his good graces after wearing him down. After their fights, Nikki would always have a bottle of alcohol on hand, some kind of drug, and would keep to himself. Our comradery with him soon began to dwindle with each month because it was obvious she was beginning to suck the life out of him. He was more introverted overtime, and higher more often than he was at the beginning of the tour. It really got bad when Guns N' Roses came on tour for a month, because Vivian's attacks on him and the other members of Mötley Crüe, began to pop off as randomly and explosively as fireworks. We'd witness some foul exchange (brought on by Vivian)  between her and Nikki backstage, either verbal or physical, nearly every night. People can talk down on the Crüe for being bad boys, but they've shown everybody that's helped them on tour, gratitude. All the wives and girlfriends that would come on that we'd offer food and drinks to would always express gratitude with a smile and a warm heart, but Vivian would always stay silent and cold towards us. She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her. We aren't surprised that she's pregnant, she probably video taped herself conceiving the damn thing and sent it to Nikki. We hope she did so it can be practice  for her inevitable low-budget porn career when she runs out of rockstars to f**k and kill, as we've mentioned, she already sounds like one in the throws of passion. Anyway, Nikki, we're hoping you decide to kick her aside and start fresh. Duff, get a paternity test, dude. Crüe fans, don't let that red-headed bitch fool you."

"Who the hell is Page Six to give these bastards a platform in the first place, Doc?!" I snap.

"Nikki, I am handling it, I'm on it--"

"--You tell the L.A. Times and Rolling fucking Stone if they take this shit and run with it, too, I'm personally coming to their offices and fucking them up. Not the publications themselves, but the people trying to put this out there in print, individually." I hiss.

"Nikki, just--" 

"--And who the hell--what roadies did this?!" 

"I don't know, Nikki, but I'm trying my hardest to get it cleaned up." He assures me. 

"'She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her'?!" I read that snippet, just so he can be reminded how fucked this is, trying my hardest not to start pitching a fucking fit. 

"Fucking AJaxx isn't even cleaning this up! Press mongrels are gonna be humping these bastards legs for giving them sales for the next nine months!" I outburst. 

"Sixx, don't worry about it, alright? It won't go past this shitty Page Six story, okay?" 

"It's fucking horse shit." I ignore him, trying to keep my cool. "Fuck." I kick at the leg of the table, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess one decently positive thing is that Viv doesn't know about this," he says next and I shake my head a little, feeling a migraine starting to come on, strong. 

I was tempted then to check myself out of rehab and 'handle' it myself, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. I hoped it would go away and it would all blow over eventually.

"Vivian, don't listen to any of it, alright? Me and you and everyone on that tour know damn well it wasn't just you being a bitch and us being the innocent victims." I say through the phone as Viv tries to calm down, her breathing shaky and ragged from crying so much. 

"I know that but the fans and other people don't know that." She says to me, her voice quiet and tired. "I'm so embarrassed, Nikki." She adds. "I'm already embarrassed that everybody knows I cheated on you but now this whole thing…" she trails off and I feel guilt tug at my heart. 

I don't know what the fuck to say. 

I'm used to criticism from the press, but none of them have tore into me or any of the guys--except Vince after the Razzle accident--so personally and extensively as they're tearing at her. 

Calling me a devil worshipper and saying my music is shitty gets annoying and frustrating and even infuriating at times, but attacking my wife and calling her a low budget porn star and telling me to kick her aside? 

Fuck that. 

"I'm sorry, Viv. I really am." I assure her, honestly, closing my eyes when I hear her stifle a little sob out. "Where are you at right now?" I ask. 

"Duff wanted me to meet his family." She tells me. "I'll be back Saturday." 

I'm relieved she actually has a reason for not being here, but I'm also hurt that she didn't give me a heads up. But I don't want to talk about it right now. I think she's been punished enough today. 

"Okay...you didn't show yesterday and I was just worried." I admit. 

"I know, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He asked me last week and I didn't think it'd be an issue." 

"Oh." 

I glance around and let out a breath. 

"I, um, I'm gonna go. I got a group thing with the guys at 3:00." I tell her. 

"Okay." 

"Are you gonna be okay or do I need to break out and kick someone's ass?" I ask her, half-joking, and she laughs, making me smile. 

"I'll be okay." She tells me. 

"I'll see you next week, Sixx." 

I can practically hear the smile in her voice when she says, "see you next week." 

We hang up and I rub my lips together, taking a few deep breaths before heading to where me and the guys meet with Amber three times a week now. 

Tommy and Vince are waiting for me, and I plop down beside them, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, hands running over my face…

"Psst," Tommy nudges me and I look at him as Vince gets up to grab a cup of coffee. 

"What?" I ask him, and he puts his finger over his mouth. 

"You seen the shit they're on Vivian for?" He whispers and I furrow my brows, looking around. 

"The room is empty except us, dude, why are you--"

"--Shh," he says. 

"Why are you whispering?" I finish my sentence. 

"Because they probably have this motherfucker bugged out the ass." He replies, glancing around again. "I'm thinking of breaking outta here, man." He whispers very, very quietly. 

"You do know we're not being held here by legal obligation, right? They won't chase us down and have the cops on us if we just check ourselves out." I point out and he furrows his brows a little. 

"Oh." 

"Why do you wanna 'break out'?" I ask. 

"I miss Heather and my dogs and I wanna be able to be there Viv, dude. She fucking needs us right now and we're, like, over an hour away--disconnected from shit. I mean we wouldn't even know what the fuck was going on in the world if Doc wasn't keeping us in the loop, ya know?" 

I think about it for a second. 

"We're over a month into our three month stay, dude." I state. "We can't just throw in the towel, now." 

"I don't mean ditch it and stay gone. I just mean check out for a few days, go back home, see what all is going on and come back." He shrugs. 

It seems oddly appealing. 

Way too appealing, actually. 

"I don't know, Tommy…" I rub the back of my neck.

"I already talked to Vince about it and he's down."

"Of course he is." 

"And we wouldn't be doing it tomorrow or anything. I'm thinking next week." 

"Does Doc know?" I ask. 

"Fuck Doc." He scoffs. 

"Agreed." I nod, chuckling. 

"So, you in or not, man?" 

"Just for a few days?" 

"Just for a few days." 

"Then we're all coming back in?" 

"Like we never left to begin with." 

"No drugs, no parties, not even alcohol." 

"Just spending time with our families and then back to the grindstone." He states. 

"...I'm in."

 ...You know when you're on a shitty diet, eating boring, tasteless, "healthy" food, and then decide you've been stuck to your diet long enough that you can have one slice of cake because you're disciplined enough to control yourself? And now, two years later, you're still telling yourself you'll get back on your diet because after that slice of cake you just said, "fuck it," and never thought about forcing yourself to eat lettuce again? Let's just say leaving rehab prematurely works the same damn way.

[sick-atsumu-side]

This one is from a video I saw on youtube but could you write something about Kageyama having a heastroke while practicing and his visions blurs he almost falls but Enoshita (I love him) helps him and keeps an eye on him but things start to worsen and he vomits and then faints. I dont know why Enoshita, he just seems like an angel. I'm sorry I couldnt detail this as much, the rest is up to you! Have a nice day and stay safe. And once again Thank you for the RinxHaru fic I LOVED IT!! 💜

D. Sun’s not my friend | Kageyama Tobio

Okeey, sorry for being late but here it is! I really hope you like it cos’ I think it’s kind of short and I don’t know if this is what you imagined... but I tried my best! and if you want another just tell me! Thank u for all of your support, you’re awesome!💞

“All right, all of you!  Drink lots of water and go inside! The sun was very hot today.”

When Daichi said those words, they were firm and serious, despite the sweat pouring down his forehead. The Karasuno team had run and trained all morning in the open air and now they were finally done. It was a relief for everyone, well, almost everyone.

Kageyama breathed heavily through his mouth, he felt hot, and his head began to ache. He wasn’t sweating, though. He knew it was because of the sun, but he also wanted to practice more, couse' he knew that all he trained for was not enough and he wasn’t the only one.

He needed to practice more.

“Yooo! Kageyama! Toss me some passes!”

Kageyama drank some water from his bottle, because he was very thirsty after all. Then, he went to the court where Hinata was, while the rest of the team went to the bathrooms to get a shower. However, as soon as he walked there he felt the ground move heavily under his feet and he became way dizzy, like he did minutes ago in the open air. His vision became somewhat blurred and he blinked a couple of times to ease the bad feeling. It wasn't until someone grabbed his arm that he was able to stabilize a bit.

Something wasn’t right about him.

‘‘Kageyama, you okay?” Ennoshita had a very worried expression on his face as he saw him, because Kageyama looked almost ready to pass out. “Kageyama?’‘

Kageyama felt very confused at that moment and his breaths became heavier than before. He even saw tiny black circles in front of him and before he knew it, he almost falled to the ground. His pulse going more faster than usual and almost fainting. Ennoshita grabbed him again by his chest just in time, clearly worried.

‘‘You’re not okay.’‘ He said, looking up to call someone but no one was there besides them and Hinata, who was doing receiving exercises. “You feel dizzy? Kageyama? How’s your heartbeat? You need to sit down, maybe-’‘

“M’ kay.”Kageyama whispered quickly, swallowing a bit before blinking a few times to steady himself and to get away from him. He looked surprised because of what actually happened. “Just... got dizzy suddendly, i’m fine now.”

‘‘You sure? You look too hot, maybe-’’

‘‘I’m okay now, thanks Ennoshita-san.’’

“Bu-”

Ennoshita saw him walk away from him, almost running off to where Hinata was, who was quite annoyed with him for being late. Kageyama winced in pain as he got there and ignored Hinata, because his headache was getting worse as the time passed by. Even the light was making him feel bad.

His muscles felt heavy. What was wrong with him? He was now inside the gym, it couldn’t be the sun. Kageyama sighed again, this time ready to toss some passes to the tangerine next to him.

“I don’t know how those two have that energy after all morning practice under the sun.” Asahi said, as he entered the gym and went to sit down in a bench, the one where Ennoshita was going, just to keep an eye on Kageyama. He was worried, even if he already told him he was ok. “I’m actually dying.”

Ennoshita was so focused on the first years, that he wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation between Asahi and Suga, who followed Asahi in the bench.

“They’re monsters.” Suga said, as he sat down with a bottle of water in his hands. “They don’t have a limit. Geez.”

“You think?”

The two lifted his head up to see Ennoshita, who had this serious look on his face. Suga and Asahi looked at each other a bit confused, but only raised their shoulders as a response. They really thought Hinata and Kageyama were monsters.

Ennoshita wasn’t too sure about that.

For his part, Kageyama had already tossed like ten passes to Hinata and he felt thristy and pained enough to stop. His mouth was dry but wet with foul-tasting saliva, and his headache was worsening as the time passed by. It felt like a migraine at this point. He really needed a stop.

He needed the light out of his eyes.

‘‘Wait, Hinata.”

‘‘Ahhh?! You tired already?! I guess I win...”

“It’s not that, you boke!” Kageyama looked mad, as he was putting his hands on his knees to hold his entire body from collapsing. He was practically bending and his stomach made a gurgle. He felt sick. “Can you grab me some water? I’m thirsty.”

Hinata looked at him, very confused.

‘‘Can’t you go on your own, Tiredyama?’‘

‘‘JUST GO, YOU STUPID!”

Hinata ran his way towards the bathroom without even doubting after that angry yell, and Ennoshita stood up from the bench. Kageyama was breathing heavily and he didn’t looked good, he was clearly far away from feeling fine. He even closed his eyes because of the throbbing headache. He was so hot and dizzy at the same time, that it made his stomach lurch.

Everything he had eaten was apparently coming up through his esophagus. He felt nausea overwhelming him and he burped unconsciously, placing a hand on him mouth almost immediately. Damn, he was going to throw up but he couldn’t move.

Fuck.

‘‘Kageyama! You ok there?!”

Ennoshita couldn’t even get closer to him before Kageyama collapsed to the ground, his head slapping the fabric of the court with a loud ‘knock’. The second year didn’t thought it twice before running fast to his side. Suga and Asahi also got up from the bench and ran fast to him behind Ennoshita. They were all too worried to even think.

‘‘Kageyama, can you hear me? Hey, Kageyama.” the first year gave out a moan as a response, gagging slightly and wet into the ground, his entire body jerking a bit. Asahi got panicked and placed a hand on his mouth. “Shit, I think he’s gonna be sick.”

Suga nodded.

“I’m going to get a bi-”

Kageyama released a mouthful of bile to the ground, coughing slightly as he was choking himself. Ennoshita jumped a bit in surprise.

“Turn him over.” Suga almost yelled, forgetting about getting a bin. “He could drown, we’ll clean later.”

Kageyama belched a bit of sick without warning and Ennoshita turned him over quickly in a resting position, that way he could throw up without choking himself. Kageyama grimaced as a mouthful of sick poured out from his mouth into the ground next to him, coughing harshly at the end. The escene was sickening and he couldn’t open his eyes.

“Where’s Daichi?” Ennoshita says.

“I don’t know.”

Kageyama gagged harshly another mouthful of putrid vomit and started to cry without even knowing. His head was almost killing him and his heartbeat was so fast that he felt anxious like if he was having a panick attack. He didn’t knew exactly what was happening to him, he couldn’t even hear clearly the soft voices talking to him.

‘‘That’s it, Kageyama, just let it out. I’m with you, you’ll be fine.” Ennoshita said to him, rubbing his shoulder and back softly. Kageyama belched another wave of sick, splashing to his side in the already pool next to his face. “Let all of that shit out of your body. No one besides us are here.”

Kageyama started to cry even harder, because he couldn’t breath and everything was hurting inside of him. However, the throbbing headache was the worse part of this and how hot his body felt at that time. Everything was moving around him and he couldn’t move.

“This is bad.” Ennoshita whispered. “Suga-”

‘‘Asahi, can you get the coach or Daichi? I think he’s having a heatstroke.” Suga interrupted Ennoshita, as another round of pale sick poured from Kageyama’s mouth and splashed it into the ground. “If that’s so, he needs to get to the hospital.”

“I was thinking the same.” Ennoshita said, as he saw Kageyama’s entire body jerk with a gag. This time foam was coming out from his mouth.

Fuck.

“He spent too many time in the sun without a cap. Geez.”

‘‘Geez, you’ll be okay, Kageyama.” Ennoshita tried to calm him down, because Kageyama was far away from fine. “Just don’t pass out, stay with me. Stay awake till we call 911.”

Hinata got panicked when he got back, dropping the bottle of water to the ground in shock.

‘‘What happened?!”

‘‘He’s too warm, Suga.” Ennoshita ignored Hinata, as he lifted up a bit of Kageyama’s body, who was almost convulsing. “He’s going to pass out pretty soon.” he was too worried to even think straight but he tried to remain calm. ‘‘I’m going to call 911, can one of you hold him?”

“What happened to him?!”

“Hinata, come with me. We have to get the coach.”

Kageyama gagged hard into Ennoshita’s hands and his entire body yerked in pain again. He wasn’t even concious and his breathing was fast enough to make him shake twice. Another harsh gag made him start spitting more foam up and Asahi ran out of the gym with Hinata by his side, the two too panicked and worried to say something more. They had to get the coach.

‘‘You’ll be ok, Kageyama.’‘ Ennoshita repeated, before trying to grab his phone to call 911. ‘‘Wha-’‘

‘‘I’ll call, don’t let him choke.”

Suga grabbed Ennoshita’s phone before the second year could finish his sentence, that way he could steady Kageyama, who was now convulsing a bit and already unconscious. Seconds after that, he passed out in Ennoshita’s hands, still breathing heavily.

This was a very bad, bad situation. They had to get him to the hospital very soon. Ennoshita felt kind of guilt because the state of Kageyama, however, he needed to think straight and just cleaned up Kageyama’s mouth, which was slightly open.

“You’ll be ok, Kageyama.”

[c-atm]

“So,” Heartberry started, “anyone has an idea of how to take this thing down cause I’m not crazy about being resprayed.” she leaned back with her legs crossed, sitting on Mister’s lap.

“We can’t ambush it, the thing always on guard, despite having one eye, ” Mister commented as he slumped in their recliner a little, “resilient thing too, just bounce everything off of that plum-colored skin of theirs.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Never faced anything so docile but, oh so annoying.” Witchy groaned, throwing her hands up in agitation, before folding her arms over her breast, pouting with puffed blush crossed cheeks and steady brows.  

The subject, how to take care of a demon who, despite being non-violent, leaves its victims comatose and foul-smelling.

So very foul-smelling.

They didn't know what it wanted. What's its purpose was, or if it even had one? Furthermore, it wouldn't tell them what it wanted...That or it couldn't. 

There wasn't a mouth on its balloon-like, limbless single-eyed body, an eye that changes colors and showed a whole lot of expression based on its emotions.

It should have been an easy kill, but it did have a high payout for its defeat, for a good reason too.

It has escaped the six of them three times so far. Leaving them all unconscious and reeking. Not even Amy was a fan of the smell. So much so that she chose to abandon the hunt.

Three nights of undertaking this task. 

Three nights of failing the task.

Three nights of smelling like literal defeat. 

Defeat took a ninety-minute bath and shower to scrub off and put everyone on edge, even after a night of sleep.

 None more than the resident witch. 

She woke with her eyes glowed with prideful anger, even as Dapper pampered her a bit, massaging her shoulders and fixing his lady her favorite breakfast, which she did appreciate but was too in her pride to convey it. Still, for the sake of the morning, he let it be.

The afternoon though, things hit their boiling point when they began to plan for their next attempt.

"I think I might have an answer," Dapper came in with a book in his hand. He laid it open to a page with the despicable eggplant looking demon. "Our target defense is related to its focus. The more alert it is, the more invulnerable it is, and believe it or not, it's a bit of a punk...so it's always on alert. Though, you can't really blame it. It's a rare demon and a big payday."

"Ok, so how do we take care of it," Witchy asked with a glare. 

"We have to distract it," Dapper announced with a smirk. "And what is its weakness, you ask." with a smirk, he pointed at a simple two-line description, which the three read.

"AHHH HAHAHA!" Mister threw his head back. "Ohh, well girls, looks like this is a job for you two."

Heartberry shook her head, "I knew it was looking at me strangely...Stop laughing." Her nostrils flared. "So...That's its weakness, so how do we exploit it."

"Photoshoot? Modeling? Music video!?" Mister chuckled, getting a headlock from his Connie.

"You know what? Fine." Witchy said coolly, getting off the couch and taking HB's hand and leading her out the room. "Going to pick up Amy, and we'll see you two in a couple of hours at that demon's base."

"My lady?"

He was answered with a slam of the front door, leaving the 'brothers' looking worried.

Two hours later, Dapper and Mister were waiting in the now abandoned apartment complex, waiting for their team.

"So what'd you think they came up with?" Mister asked, leaning back on a wall, eyes closed and hand in his pockets.

Dapper shrugged, looking a bit crushed." My lady is so damn prideful. Just hope she's not going to do something..Foolish for a win."

"She wouldn't be a 'Connie' if she took it on the chin, definitely if she feels she could win."

"Sis, stubborn as well, hmm?"

"Her most alluring trait." Mister smirked, opening his eyes and turning his head left, "speaking of alluring...Stars and Diamonds." He swooned.

Dapper looked over the same direction as Mister and arched an eye. 

Heartberry, Amethyst, and the duo of Sarah and Biddy strutting towards them.

Dressed in flashy, flirty idol outfits.

Mister whistled as they walked up.

"Keep your eyes and tongue in your head, Mister," Heartberry teased as Mister playfully wrapped her loose plaid tie over his finger. "Schoolgirl style?" 

"Yup, figured since it has a thing for the female form, we decided we'd appease its base emotions."

"I see devious." Mister flirted, "So..are you naughty or nice?" 

"I'll show you later alone." She grinned, giving him a peck.

"Ummm-"

"Yes...Always." The purple demoness answered Sarah's and Biddy's question before they could ask.

"Quite the plan you came up with, ladies," Dapper smirked.

"It was actually trailblazer's suggestion." Sarah started." Alicia would have joined, but she was needed at the church."

"How did you guys get roped into this?" The demon Steven questioned.

"I was promised a piece of the reward and amusement." Biddy announced, plainly, " so far, I am amused."

"Same." Sarah nodded affirmatively.

"Dapper." HB called, getting the demon's attention, "around the corner." 

Dapper didn't need any more than that as she morphed into a shadow, rushing to his lady's side.

He found her standing behind the corner, a cloak over her.

"My lady?"

Witchy leaped, red-face as Dapper formed himself from the darkness. "The hell, Steven. Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Sorry." The half-demon offered, looking at his lady, " So? What are you doing over here?"

"Attempting to preserve my pride." She mumbled, "this is so stupid." She rubbed her temples with a groan before slamming her first to the wall. 

"I really don't get why you are so angry, My lady?"

"I don't like to lose."

"I know." He chuckled

"This demon beat me four times."

"Four? We only confronted it three times."

"I'm not talking just in battle!" She growled." I mean …" Witchy clenched her fist. " You know what, trash the plan."

 "This was your idea!" Shocks evident in Dapper's voice.

"I'm retracting it then!" 

"Why? It's a good plan!"

"Why? I'm not some...Cosplaying, dallying, cutesy, pop-idol, centerfold!!" The fiery witch roared upwards, 

"I'm a demon hunter! A witch! A warrior! A CONNIE MAHESWARAN!!" She continued, a flare of outrage literally coming from her mouth.

"Spitting fire, My lady."

He received a smoke conjuring snort as a response before she turned her back to him, her cheeky face pout returning, even as he interlaced his fingers around her stomach and pulled her to his chest, though it slipped a bit when she felt the rumble of his best from him chuckle on her back.

"Don't you think you're a bit too proud?"

"No! not at all!" She argued. "This thing has made a mockery of us. I mean, come on. Look what we've been subjected to." She groaned, leaning back into him. "Three nights of foul-smelling defeats from this one-eyed demon eggplant that won the genetic lottery in terms of defense and attentiveness, whose weakness is the 'allure of the fairer sex.'  How am I supposed to feel knowing that this was the thing that beat me...Beat us."

"It hasn't beaten us," Dapper looked at his flame. "We're still here, ready to do what we do best."

"But what we do best won't work, as long as it's on guard, we can't kill it, and all we have to do is get sprayed and humiliated again." Witchy retorted, "even against the likes of Stevonnie and Steven squared. It just repels everything before blowing us away in a noxious fume." The witch sighed in chagrin." And to cater to its taste...A demon's taste...How disgraceful."

"That's kind of offensive, Connie," Dapper stated, slightly crossed. "I'm half-demon, you know."

The witch's face flushed, shamed at her callousness. "Sorry, my dapper devil. I didn't mean it like that." She gave him a quick peck. "It's just this whole 'honeypot' plan. It's humiliating."

Sometimes it's a requirement." Dapper joked yet spoke truthfully, "you've been at this job long enough to know that, and you used you womanly wiles before, so why is this so different?"

"Because it might not work, and I don't want to look bad in front of you again, "  Witchy admitted looking down. "Especially against this do nothing demon, who can't attack more than letting out a nauseating gas."

Dapper kissed her crown gently, "My beautiful, prideful flame. You really let this plant sink its roots into you." Dapper laughed a bit before kissing her temple. 

"How are you laughing? How can you find even the most smidge of humor out of this situation?"

"The fact that this plant isn't threatening the populace helps." The demon admitted, "Annoying them to the point of abandoning their home for the time, but at least they're unharmed."

"True, it's more menace than monster, but that makes it all the more shameful." The witch complained, "we've battled true nightmares and won without breaking a sweat, and yet the thing that gave us trouble can't even speak! It's frustrating!"

"Irony at its finest." Dapper jest. 

"I want to win." Witchy declared. " I want to prevail over this creature; I have to..."determination in her voice.

"Well, then. We should join the others. We're holding the op-"

Dapper words fell short as Witchy's lips met his in an appreciative kiss. He was only slightly shocked for a moment before reciprocating. It all lasted a tongue-twisting, cheek caressing, hip holding, lip popping seven seconds before breaking off with a gentle -Chu-.

Dapper, a bit dizzy, turned upwards and breathed out a small heart-shaped fume. "Talk about your hot kisses."

"Pfft!" Witchy snorted before laughing into his chest. Holding him by the shoulder blades as he did. "Thank you," She whispered, adoring.

"For what?"

"Letting me vent, without judgment." She reached up, kissing his left cheek, "For making my favorite breakfast and massaging my shoulders." She kissed his right, "for dealing with my attitude in stride.

"It's no problem, My lady." He soothed, "I know your irritation comes from your convictions, your need never to let your people down." He kissed her forehead, "one of your most attractive qualities."

"Still."

"Still nothing. You are fine, not like you did anything insulting." He grinned, "You were just a sulky little witch."

"And impulsive."  She sighed, " whatever. It is what it is." Witchy surrendered as she walked out of his grasp, peeling off her cloak and making Dapper jaw drop.

She was wearing a dark blue collared crop top with purple plaid trim around the hem and collared with a loose-fitting blue and purple stripe tie, a pair of high thighs navy suspender shorts, some dark purple knee-highs, and black collared booties. Every curve that she hid was on full display, and Dapper was burning the visage in his mind forever.

Reaching to her back left pocket, she pulled out a hair clip shaped like one of Dapper's broaches as well as a tube lip gloss.

"Mind helping me?" She tossed him the tube before clipping her hair in a left side ponytail. Dapper nodded before taking Witchy chin in his left hand and slowly stroked the gloss across pressed the lips, giving them a shimmer. "Hmm, might have given you too much."

Before the witch could complain, her partner gave her a tingling, suckling upon the brims of her mouth.

It was sweet, swift, and soothing, precisely what his lady needed as he felt her relax under his kiss.

"Better?" He asked, reapplying the gloss again, getting a breath of calmness and appreciation.

"Yeah." She felt herself grinning, " you could have asked for a kiss, though."

"True, but kissing 'a idol' off guard was too good to pass." He gave her a playful and wolfish grin, making her blush and push him away.

"Gods no. I'm no idol."

"You're my idol." He whispered, pressing his head to hers.

Witchy pursed her mouth, pouting a bit." Well. I guess that's fine…" she gave him a quick peck. "but only yours."

"Does that mean there is a chance I'd get to see you in this outfit again?"

 "I'm more than likely going to end up burning this attire once we are done." She shrugged, teasing before backing away, turning, and walking towards the corner. "Come on, I'm sure the others are impatient and probably starting to head up to the roof."

"Of course," Dapper said, staring at his lady's confident stride before following behind her; idolizing the prideful fiery witch and all her perfect imperfection, as he always did.

[steeltoss]

Pre Naruto — Naruto Headcanons. Ages 9-15.

I have nothing better to do while my phone is dying.

Age 9

We're starting here since I'm working on something already. Okay so the day her whole clan was obliborated and sent straight to Jesus, Hokkaido was taken from Konoha under the Third's order. From there, she went to an orphanage in Amegakure.

The orphanage wasn't too bad, but Hokkaido couldn't help missing Konohagakure. She wanted to leave the orphange and debated running away.

However, she didn't get to run away as a couple who never had children together spotted this lonely dark haired girl and wanted to adopt her. This led to confusion. Someone genuinely wanted to adopt her, a broken child?

They did adopt her. But she was quiet, confused even.

The lady was one of the most beautiful ladies she had ever seen, complete with Auburn hair and deep green eyes and a pallor complexion. Her new mother's name was Emi Suzuki of the Hidden Rain.

The man was strong, and he looked very mean, but he wasn't. Hokkaido just didn't know that yet. He had short, messy Sandy blonde hair and cocoa colored eyes. This was Shindou Suzuki, a very strong Shinobi of the Hidden Rain.

Upon going to her new home, things were very different. This family was patient with her learning and never pushed her too much, they had accepted her as if she really were their own child. But she didn't want to call them mom or dad because she only ever had one mom and one dad.

Hokkaido was given a nice room with a twin sized bed and a desk for schoolwork, Emi enjoyed buying her stuffed animals, her favorite was her stuffed panda that somehow made her think of Shisui. She slept with it every single night.

Entering the academy, she made two friends that she held close to her heart.

Aito Fugikame, a small and dark haired girl with violet eyes who reminded her of Hinata Hyūga from Konoha, maybe that's why she enjoyed her company so much.

Eiji Yamada, a brunette make who seemed a little idiotic but super friendly and was outcasted for being such a loveable idiot. This was in ways, her Naruto of Amegakure.

She began to adjust to her new life, the pain seemingly subsiding as she always came home to a hot meal and was called Yua, (and it literally means binding love and affection) by Emi.

Things were starting to go great, and for once after the massacre, Hokkaido Uchiha was smiling as she came home. But she missed her brother, Sasuke. She wondered how he was doing in Konoha.

Age 10

Having a good birthday, she blew the candles out on her cake before hiding her face in her hands. She was crying but didn't know why. Sure, she was happy, but how long would it last without her only other blood relative?

The trio [Hokkaido, Aito and Eiji] often roamed the village together and practiced their skills together, she finally perfected her Fireball Jutsu.

That's when people began looking at her all weird, she was an outsider, and they knew just how strong the Uchiha clan was.

Aito's mother wouldn't let her visit nor talk to Hokkaido anymore. This was the downfall.

Hokkaido shut herself off, she barely exited her room unless it was to eat or go to school.

Age 11

Emi had conceived her first daughter this year and she seemed rather focused upon the new baby that was due to arrive in July. Hokkaido was conflicted on how to feel, she was once her foster parents primary focus, and it seemed they had less and less time for her now. She never brought it up. She was still grateful she was given a family.

In July, Emi gave birth to a healthy little girl named Ichika. Hokkaido wanted eagerly on the front steps of their house, but was only met with a sullen faced Shindou and a baby in his arms. Emi was no where around.

Later that evening, Shindou had explained that Emi had passed on, and that Hokkaido was now rightfully the woman of the house.

Even though Emi wasn't her biological mother, Hokkaido was broken again. She had lost two mother's in her life. This was the very first time she cried over someone who wasn't related to her in any way.

But Ichika reminded her so much of Emi. She had beautiful Auburn hair and a buttoned nose, just like Emi. And Hokkaido would constantly talk to the growing child about how amazing their mother was.

At the time, she hadn't even realized she reffered to Emi as her own mother. She just knew she missed her more than anything.

Age 12

Celebrating Ichika's first birthday wasn't how she ever imagined it to be. Emi wasn't there to see her daughter grow up, she hadn't even gotten to see Hokkaido graduate from the Academy and become a genin.

Hokkaido was put in a squad with Aito and Eiji, but things were still tense with herself and Aito. Hokkaido never knew how to process her emotions. She used to go to Itachi or Shisui for things like that. But Shisui had died a year before the massacre.

This year also happens to be the year Hokkaido got her menstrual cycle. She went into a panic, thinking she was dying and bleeding out. After all, she really didn't have a grown female figure to turn to about this.

She was embarassed to even tell Shindou, but he was very calming and understanding. He explained she was becoming a woman and even gave her the birds and bees talk. She was disgusted.

Sasuke is now ten, and she wonders how he's doing. She debated on writing him a letter, but out of nervousness, she doesn't.

Age 13

Hokkaido spent a lot of her time doing activities as she was now co sidered am elder sibling by Ichika. Ichika was walking and talking and every day passing, looked more like Emi.

Hokkaido began training for her chunin exams, which, were coming up very shortly. She spent many hours training with her squad a day and had often had to be retrieved by Shindou.

Shindou often scolded her for overworking herself as he forced her to drink plenty of water and eat her greens. He was only looking out for his eldest after all.

Upon the day of the exams, Hokkaido finds out all three of her squad had to sign up. And they had. They are now officially beginning their journey as chunin.

The first exam, she nearly crapped a brick. The written test was hard and she knew nothing. But she still tried her hardest, hearing and seeing others being disqualified for cheating. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Afterwards, when she found out the objective was to cheat without being caught, she literally facepalms herself because she hadn't even thought of cheating. And then that damned question was asked.

Back at the exam, the proctor states that the candidates are free to choose whether or not they want to try and solve the tenth question. If they opt out, the entire team will fail. If they choose to answer the question but get it wrong, they will be barred from taking the Chūnin Exams forever.

Hokkaido's heart hit her guts. She was afraid of never becoming a chunin. But she pressed forward, only to find out the tenth question was already asked. The question was to test their determination and bravery.

Since I'm a lazy bastard and ive worked on this almost all damn day, I'm moving forward.

During the one on one fights, Hokkaido was matched against Kabuto Yakushi. [you know. Cuz this mf kept taking the exams cuz he a spying little-]

She lost.

She lost.

She didn't become a chunin on her first try, but congratulated Aito and Eiji upon becoming Chunin.

Age 14

Sasuke was finally old enough to take his own chunin exams and they were being hosted in Konohagakure! Hokkaido was estatic, she was finally going home to Konohagakure, even if it was just for the exams.

The exams started the same, and she passes. She couldn't help but keep glancing toward her brother however, a tugging on her heart. He hadn't even looked her way.

She wondered if he forgot her. He hadnt.

After the written exams, they prepared for the second part. Hokkaido was paired with two Amegakure genin.

However, a red haired sand ninja with a foul attitude caught her eye. Gaara.

Another skip, I'm half dead.

Anyway,, she became a chunin because of the circumstances and after the fight with Gaara and Naruto, Hokkaido goes home back to Amegakure.

Sasuke had changed so much, her little brother was growing up.

Age 15

Hokkaido had been caring for Ichika and tried being a great big sister to the four year old who somehow ended up looking up to her like she had to Itachi. It left her heart hurting a little.

Still, she would sometimes think back to that red haired boy.

She often ignored it because she didn't want to even tell Shindou about a possible boy she liked, let alone one that was so damn destructive.

Things were going well, and she was being sent on a mission to Konohagakure soon. This mission, however, required her to move away for six months. She would be aiding the Fifth Hokage, Tsunade.

She wondered why she was chosen for such a thing...

Okay. That's rushed but there. Heres her OG Naruto Headcanons. Shippuden comes next. Feedback is much appreciated. Nah this isn't proofread either.

[velasnyx]

Emaziska Naruto AU Chapter 9

I laid her down on her bed. Well, I guess that's it. I think. Should I stay? Why should I stay? She just needs to sleep it off. She'll be fine in the morning. I started walking toward the door. Maybe I should keep an eye on her though. I started walking back. No, that's not necessary. Nothing's going to happen. I made my way back to the door. But what if something does happen? I shook my head. No! Nothing is going to happen. She'll be fine. She just needs to rest. I walked out of her room and to the front door. I stopped with my hand gripping the doorknob. What's stopping me? Why do I care so much? I barely know her. I can't even remember her name. She means nothing to me. So why the hell do I care? I groaned and walked away from the door. I took off my jacket and set it on the couch. I walked back into her room. She was still sleeping soundly on the bed. I noticed the blood from the shuriken on her shirt. I should bandage that. I wandered her house looking for bandages. Most people would keep them in the bathroom or something. Her's was in the kitchen...next to an empty box of cereal. I'm not going to question that. I went back to her bedroom to clean and bandage the wound. She really was exhausted. She didn't even stir as I dressed the wound. Well, all there is to do now is wait until the morning. Hopefully she doesn't mind me sleeping on her couch.

I was half asleep when I heard a panicked tell come from her room. I jumped to my feet and rushed to her room. “You okay?” I asked. She was surprised to see me. “What're you doing in my house?”. That doesn't answer my question. “You passed out at the training grounds. I brought you home,” I said. She seemed to remember what had happened and frowned. Getting out of her bed, she heading toward the door. “You should keep resting,” I said. “I'm gotta get a glass of water”. I nodded. She walked out and I followed. After she got some water, she sat on the couch. She looked at me, confused. “You just gonna stand there? You can sit,” she said. I sat next to her. “I'm… sorry,” she said. “It's fine, Skye girl. No harm, no foul”. “It's Ema. Get it memorized so you can quit calling me that,” she said. Ema. Alright, I'll make sure I remember that. Ema. Ema. Ema. I nodded. “So, how come you stayed here?” Ema asked. I rubbed my neck nervously. “Um. Well… it didn't feel right to just leave you here alone. Just in case something happened,” I said. She let out a “hmph”. Don't say something snarky. “So, you've actually got a heart in that chest of yours? I'm shocked”. I rolled my eyes. Sitting back, I looked off to the side. Neither one of us said anything for a while. “What… what's going to happen to me?” She asked. I looked back at her. Ema was staring at her hands. She looked… scared. What do I tell her? I have no clue what will happen. Should I tell her what she wants to hear or do I give her the honest truth? I stayed silent. I had no idea what to say or do. I'm pretty sure anything I'd do wouldn't help. She let out a sigh. “You look tired,” Ema said. I bet I did. I was in and out of sleep. And when I was asleep, it wasn't a deep sleep. I could feel the heaviness of my eyelids. I was ready to knock out any second. “I'm fine”. She didn't look convinced but didn't bother arguing. “So, what's going on?” I asked. “What do you mean?”. I mean you almost killed me. What the hell was up with that? “That last leg of the fight. Something in you snapped”.  She frowned and looked away from me. “I don't know. It must've been the mark,” Ema said. I knew she was giving me a bullshit answer but I decided not to push it. “You should go back to sleep,” I said. She nodded slowly. “Can you uh… stay with me?” She asked. “Excuse me?”. Is she serious? “I've been having nightmares lately. I would just feel better with someone else in the room”. I think I saw an armchair that could be comfortable enough to sleep in. It's one night. “Alright”.

I woke up multiple times throughout the night. Sometimes Franziska was also awake, others she was sound asleep. I felt bad that she couldn't get any sleep. I still perceived her to be annoying and insufferable but she's gone through as much shit as I have. Probably more. I could've killed her last night. When I saw her eyes, it set me off. Seeing them made me think back to that day. All the emotions came back. That along with the mark, put me in state of rage. I saw red. I just wanted to kill. That's not like me. I don't let myself get like that. I don't act on negative emotions. But ever since the mark and these nightmares, everything's been off. Now I've got all this shit on my mind. I got out of bed and headed toward the door. I noticed Franziska was still out like a light. Maybe she can finally get a good rest. I carefully picked her up and carried her to the bed. She's was lighter than I thought she would be. I laid her down and put the blanket over her.

My stomach started to rumble as I made my way to the kitchen. Maybe I'll finish that cereal in cupboard. I got a bowl and grabbed the box. I tilted it down but nothing came out. I shook it and still nothing. Peeking inside and I found it was completely empty. Ugh. You kiddin’ me? I didn't have much of anything else.  Maybe I should take a quick trip to the store. What a pain. It'll be quick. In and out. I checked on Franziska. She was still sound asleep. Hopefully, I'll get back before she leaves.

I started making my way over to store. It seemed like just another regular day in Konoha. Clear, blue skies, nice breeze. The streets filled with people doing the daily routine. I passed by the academy. A lot of good memories there. I had some of my best naps in those classrooms. Good times, good times. “Thinking back to the good ol’ days?” someone behind me said. I turned to Mia, Maya's older sister. “Yeah. Thinking about how life was so much simpler then,” I said. She chuckled. “No doubt about it. You doing alright?”. I was puzzled at first but then realized what she was talking about. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright”. “Lana, was really worried. She barely left your side at the hospital,” Mia said. Lana's always been like that. There were times where I felt she didn't want me to become a ninja. She wanted to avoid anymore loss as much as possible. I think she felt afraid of being the only one left. Can't say I blame her. “You know how she is. I guess she still is since she had Franziska watch me,” I said. She looked surprised. “Manfred's daughter?”. I nodded. “I'm surprised she asked her and not Maya,” she added. “So am I. Wouldn't it be better to ask someone closer to me?”. She nodded in agreement. Mia began to think about something. “Hm… well, Lana's always been the kind of person who thinks people should take responsibility. I'm pretty sure she's put the blame on Franziska. That's probably why she had her watch over you,” Mia explained. Oh God, she's right. Jeez Lana, sometimes you gotta settle down. I sighed. “The last thing I wanted her to do was blame someone else for my actions,” I said. Mia put her hand on my shoulder and looked at me with a soft expression. “You're not to blame either, Ema. Manfred's the one at fault here,” she said. Her tone and expression changed. It was obvious she held major distaste for him. I don't know why. I mean, I know why. The guy's an asshole but I'm sure her reasons are deeper than that. Mia sighed and brightened her mood. “When Lana gets back, I'll talk to her,” she said.  I nodded. “Well, I've got to get going. Grossberg wants me to show the kids a couple earth style techniques”. “Alright. Good luck with those academy kids,” I said. “As long as they're not sleeping they shouldn't be a problem,” she said, poking fun at my then habit to sleep during class. I chuckled and waved goodbye.

I walked out of the store. I bought a carton of eggs, Coco puffs, and some meat to cook for dinner. “Hey, Ema!”. Maya ran over to me. “Hey, Maya. What's up?”. “Nothin’. You doing okay? You had me worried yesterday!” she said. “You didn't seem very worried when you had me pay for that burger”. She crossed her arms and pouted at me. “Neither of those have anything to do with each other!”. I shrugged. “Don't matter. You still owe me,” I said. She let out a huff of air. “Well, then I'll carry your groceries for you,” Maya said. Eh, I guess that's good enough. I handed her the bag and we started walking to my place. “I really am worried about you, Ema,” Maya said. I frowned. All these people keep worrying about me. I feel a little guilty. “I'll be fine, Maya. I promise,” I said, trying to put her at ease. She nodded, though she seemed unconvinced. “You know me, Maya. I can handle anything that's thrown at me”. She cheered up a little. I guess she believed that.

We were getting close to my place. “Hey, can I use your bathroom when we get to your house?” Maya asked. “Yeah, sure”. “Is that Kurama girl still following you around?” she asked. “So far, not today”. Only because she's sleeping in my bed. “She's kinda hot,” Maya said. I didn't say anything. Didn't have much to say on that anyway. “What do you think?”. “I think she's a pain in my ass,” I replied, my cheeks feeling a bit hot. Maya chuckled. “What's so funny?” I asked. “Oh, nothing”. We arrived at my place and I opened the door. Maya placed the groceries on the table and headed to the bathroom. I sat at the table with a bowl of Coco Puffs and enjoyed my breakfast. Maya cane back with a mischievous look on her face. “What?” I asked. She chuckled deviously. “What?” I asked again. This time with a bit more annoyance in my tone. “You sure that Kurama girl is a pain in the ass? I've got a feeling you might think she's quite the opposite,” Maya said. What is she-- oh FUCK. I could feel my face turning red. “No. It's not what it looks like!”. “Are you sure about that?” Maya said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Yes. We were training last night-”, Maya cut me off. “Oh, I'm sure you two were,” she said. Oh my God, nooooooo. “Listen to me. We were training and things got ugly. I passed out and she brought me here. She kept watch on me IN THE CHAIR IN MY ROOM. She barely got any sleep so when I woke up I put her in my bed,” I explained. Maya's face turned from mischevious to worried. “You told me your were okay. What happened?”. Shit, no way out of this one. I sighed. “The mark took over and it was too much for me to handle”. Maya frowned. “Why didn't you tell me?” she asked. “I didn't want you to worry”. “Well, I'm worried now”.  I frowned. My intentions were good but I only hurt her in the end. Way to go, Ema. “I'm sorry, Maya. Would you forgive me if I bought burgers later?” I said. Maybe that would ease things up. “Okay!” Maya chirped. You serious? That's all it took. She changed mood in the split second. “I regret saying that”. Maya smiled wide. “Too late! No take backs!” she said. I sighed. I guess so. “So, she carried you all the way from the training grounds?”. I nodded. “Aw, that's cute”. I groaned. “Stop. Don't make this out to be more than it actually is,” I said. “Um, excuse me! She's sleeping in YOUR bed”. “I already explained that,” I shot back. Maya raised her brow at me. “You carried her… to your bed. You, a person who I've know to find literally everything a pain in the ass, woke up this morning and picked up a grown ass woman and place her in your bed. Yeah, okay. And you say I'm making this out to be more than it actually is,” Maya said. I groaned. “Why are you like this?”. “Hey, you're In here to call you out on your bullshit. Don't forget about the burgers later,” she said, heading toward the door. I sighed and finished my breakfast.

After breakfast, I got dressed for the day and decided to pass the time by watching the clouds from my roof. I hopped onto my roof and laid down. Nothing better than watching the clouds go by on a beautiful day. This is what I've been longing for the past week. Time to relax, to clear my head. Nothing to worry about. Not missions, not the mark. Nada. “Oi”. And there it goes. I groaned and sat up. Franziska was looking up at me from the ground. “What do you want?” I asked. “Just letting you know I'm going home,” she replied. “Did you eat the breakfast I made for you?”. She raised a brow at me. I guess she didn't see it. “Hold on,” I said. “Don't worry about it”. “Hell no. I went out of my way to make it,” I said. I went inside and packed the breakfast I made into a bento for her to take on the go. I brought it out and gave it to her. “T-thank you,” she said, looking a but flustered. “Figured it would only be appropriate since you were kind enough to bring me home last night,” I said. She nodded. She was strange. Almost all the time she had a stone cold expression and barely talked. It makes me wonder how Manfred raised her in order for her to be this way. Franziska turned and walked away. I stood there, feeling a bit dumbfounded. Uh, bye, I guess.

[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.