Les Liaisons Dangereuses [FanFic]
Title: Les Liaisons Dangereuses
Author: Tooks
Pairing: James Norrington/Lil Foyet, James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann by proxy
Rating: FRM
Prompt: Role Play
Summary: Her instincts told her this was too much, to pull away, that he was in a dangerous muddied place where she might become his past.
Notes: Second venture into the Criminal Minds/Pirates of the Caribbean AU. This is just a quick one-shot of Norrington and Lil with the title taken from a real book - it's French for "Dangerous Liaisons" - and based on the lover100 prompt of "Role Play". It takes place between the first and second Pirates and is sorta a smutty character study of both of them. Couldn't get a better summary than that line in the story, haha! Major cred goes to pink_siamese for the beta-ing that brought this piece to 11. Lemme know what ya'll think! :D
Lil sat beside him, elbow on the hardwood table, chin nestled in her hand. “How do you imagine it?”
Norrington’s eyes were slow to catch hers. “Beg pardon?”
“Being with that woman you love so,” she clarified with the slightest tick up of the lips. She could spot a wanting soul from a mile away. “How do you imagine that night with her?”
He feigned indifference even as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, watching her in reflections of the darkened glass windows.
“I look like her, no?” She wouldn’t give up, not on such a prize target. “Is it the hair? Or maybe the body?” Her lips twisted. “No, wait. It’s the eyes, isn’t it?”
Drunk on rum and frustrations well beyond his own comprehension, he snapped his head to the bold woman. His glare melted as he took her in. She bore enough of a resemblance to Elizabeth to sting: sun-kissed hair and skin, a figure suited to new dresses from France…a fine woman who carried herself like royalty even as she drank and caroused as hard, if not harder, than most the men.
He looked away. “It…It is not your eyes.”
“But it is something.”
His mouth softened. “It is everything.”
***
“How do you imagine it?” Lil lit a spare lantern on the dresser. She glanced at him and softened her voice. “James?”
“Softer.”
Lil gave a faint smile, blew out the match, and turned to face him. Her feet moved in delicate steps, her posture demure. She let a little sun into her smile. She glanced at her feet, looked up from beneath long lashes. “James.”
Norrington’s mouth curved in a soft smile.
“You’re a good man, James,” Lil cooed.
She hated playing this type, the doe-eyed virgin, the girl brought to trembling and sweetened words by the appearance of good man. It wasn’t how women, how people, worked. Yet the commodore was worth the ruse; thanks to him, she would be able to get a better class of client, to work her way up to admirals and lords and beyond.
Lil stopped, smiled down at him. “Do I wear my hair up? Or down?”
Elizabeth’s hair was beautiful as it tumbled down about her shoulders. “Down.”
Lil reached up and slipped the pins out of her hair. She moved her fingers through it, shaking out the tawny curls as she crowded up between his thighs with a smile soft as silk. Doing so took all of her focus. She hadn’t concentrated so hard on smiling since her early days in the trade, back when she’d sold her virginity on at least three separate occasions. She reached out, ran her hand over the man’s forehead. Her fingers traced his hairline, then trailed along his cheek and jaw. At least he was handsome.
James closed his eyes. His lips parted as she touched them. The other hand ran into his hair and the tie there fall out without so much as a tug. Elizabeth’s fingers were skilled; she was good at untying knots. His balanced wavered, the smells of rum and her skin, the trace of her cheap perfume, all of it mixed and spun in his head. James tipped forward and into the rough fabric of a poor woman’s dress.
“How do you imagine it, James?”
It started as a tug between his heart and groin that moved his hands to grab her by the skirt of her dress. Fingers curled over and over as they collected fabric. He pulled her to his lap. The whisper came just before the kiss: “Elizabeth.”
His mouth landed heavy, ripened with emotion; it was too sweet, too soft, like the skin of certain fruits poised just on the cusp of rottenness. It unsettled Lil. Her instincts told her this was too much, to pull away, that he was in a dangerous muddied place where she might become his past. He might cling, then grow heavy, then drown her in his love. Fear coiled cold in the pit of her belly. It quickened her breath. She would pay for this one. He moaned a little. Hands with just enough experience to feign a virgin’s trembling awkwardness worked the cravat free from his neck. Lil loosened the buttons of his shirt. Their mouths parted for shared breaths before he pulled her back down into the kiss.
It was what he wanted and yet not enough; the room constricted around his expanding desire and his hand went to the buttons of her bodice, but other emotions stilled his fingers. He pulled out of the kiss and looked up into her eyes. The flickering dark hid the storms of Lil’s eyes; he only saw the deep wells of Elizabeth’s.
She looked at him in the dark and his face was a mystery. She could not read him. Her eyes sought out the familiar topography of pain, lust, hate, adoration---those were the landscapes she knew, but this was something different, more raw, more removed from its own origins. Something removed from her understanding. She struggled to pull him back into familiar waters.
“Touch me, James.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He looked up into her eyes, his gaze veiled with soft lashes. Lil looked back, peered into his darkness, and glimpsed the horizon of his memory.
“I love you, Elizabeth.”
“Touch me.”
He unbuttoned her bodice, loosened it from her shoulders and let it fall into her lap. He reached behind for the laces of her corset, mouth both claiming and surveying the arched territory of her neck, the rising and falling bridges of her collarbones. Lil rewarded him with a soft whimper, then a moan and a subtle shift of her shoulders, giving him more skin to explore.
His touches were hesitant, too soft, they held care and concern and too much respect; she felt her skin trying to respond, to be what he wanted, and she swallowed the urge to push him away. Her body knew the rough grabs and gropes of other men. She preferred them; she was a whore, a thing for sale, and she didn’t know what to do with such reverence. Yet his hands were as rough as any man’s who worked at sea. She would find her pleasure in the abrasive palm that roved and caressed her breast, the calloused thumb that scuffed her nipple to hardness. She encouraged him with a moan and stripped off her corset.
In shadows of room and memory James could not see the small angry scars that ran over Lil’s arms or the bruises, new and fading, left behind by other conquests. He saw only the smooth skin of Elizabeth, her sun-freckles, the fine hairs bleached white in the tropic sun as Lil pulled his shirt up off his body. He pulled her closer and held her moist skin against his, feeling the thud of her heart through her breast, her ribs laboring with her breath. Eyes closed, lost in Elizabeth, he did not catch Lil’s intentional adjustments in timing as his head dipped to lick the taste of salt from her breast. He groaned directly from his cock.
It comforted her, relaxing the tension in her muscles, calming the confusion in her mind. She let her face rest in his hair and gave her first real moan for him, it was deeper, darker, muskier, but it was real. She let her curls fall over his chest and shoulders as she kissed his neck. Her hips started to rock but she kept herself in check and waited. His breath was ragged and quickening; he’d move them into position on his own.
The shifts came swiftly and with experience as he worked them both up on the bed, letting Lil’s garments fall with grunts and pants from both until his beauty’s head nestled on pillows. James leaned over her, smiling, her face was haloed in curls and waves, and his smile softened with the shyness of a boy. She smiled back, but the flicker of the candle caught something flinty in the corners of her lips.
He dived into a kiss to smother it, propped on one hand for balance. He stroked her hair as he kissed her, and her frustration returned. She pulled his hand out of her hair and dragged it down to her bare thighs, cupped it tight and hard between them. She rolled her hips up into his palm.
“James,” she sighed.
“Elizabeth!”
“I need you, James,” her thighs opened, hips wanton. “Please. Don’t keep me waiting any longer.” Lil wanted, needed, this over with.
He nodded as he backed up on his knees to undo his breeches.
Lil didn’t bother to look, or to give him the chance to enter her like she was a temple; she pulled him down by his hair and his neck, and she kissed deep and hard as she moaned into his forceful entry. She clenched around him. Tight walls and wet heat welcomed him with each thrust and turned his love’s name into a mantra. With kisses and nips and gentle sucks on sun-brushed skin, he said it over and over. He couldn’t stop himself.
Lil wanted to gag him. She focused on the sensation of hot breath, the smell of all men in the throes of lust; he was good, he was experienced, skilled even. She did her best to press herself into him, to overwrite his moans with her own. When she realized his pleasure directly related to what he read of hers she overplayed it a little; clenched muscles more and gasped his name at the next thrust.
“Elizabeth…E- Elizabeth, I…I lo -“
Lil sucked the words out of him and swallowed them down in an almost vicious kiss. He came, and in his convulsion, his flood of sweet moans, she hated him; she wanted to destroy him, to bleed out his unsettling ways as he collapsed on top of her. He did not even have the decency to risk crushing her with his weight. Bastard.
She would allow him to remain; first inside her, then beside her, holding her close. She would allow him to fill with thanks. She stayed in his arms, listening to him murmur, her body coated in sweat and her cunt aching. She would listen to him doze and yearn for ruin and blood.
"Our fates have been entwined, Elizabeth, but never joined." ~ James Norrington
Author: Tooks
Pairing: James Norrington/Lil Foyet, James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann by proxy
Rating: FRM
Prompt: Role Play
Summary: Her instincts told her this was too much, to pull away, that he was in a dangerous muddied place where she might become his past.
Notes: Second venture into the Criminal Minds/Pirates of the Caribbean AU. This is just a quick one-shot of Norrington and Lil with the title taken from a real book - it's French for "Dangerous Liaisons" - and based on the lover100 prompt of "Role Play". It takes place between the first and second Pirates and is sorta a smutty character study of both of them. Couldn't get a better summary than that line in the story, haha! Major cred goes to pink_siamese for the beta-ing that brought this piece to 11. Lemme know what ya'll think! :D
Lil sat beside him, elbow on the hardwood table, chin nestled in her hand. “How do you imagine it?”
Norrington’s eyes were slow to catch hers. “Beg pardon?”
“Being with that woman you love so,” she clarified with the slightest tick up of the lips. She could spot a wanting soul from a mile away. “How do you imagine that night with her?”
He feigned indifference even as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, watching her in reflections of the darkened glass windows.
“I look like her, no?” She wouldn’t give up, not on such a prize target. “Is it the hair? Or maybe the body?” Her lips twisted. “No, wait. It’s the eyes, isn’t it?”
Drunk on rum and frustrations well beyond his own comprehension, he snapped his head to the bold woman. His glare melted as he took her in. She bore enough of a resemblance to Elizabeth to sting: sun-kissed hair and skin, a figure suited to new dresses from France…a fine woman who carried herself like royalty even as she drank and caroused as hard, if not harder, than most the men.
He looked away. “It…It is not your eyes.”
“But it is something.”
His mouth softened. “It is everything.”
***
“How do you imagine it?” Lil lit a spare lantern on the dresser. She glanced at him and softened her voice. “James?”
“Softer.”
Lil gave a faint smile, blew out the match, and turned to face him. Her feet moved in delicate steps, her posture demure. She let a little sun into her smile. She glanced at her feet, looked up from beneath long lashes. “James.”
Norrington’s mouth curved in a soft smile.
“You’re a good man, James,” Lil cooed.
She hated playing this type, the doe-eyed virgin, the girl brought to trembling and sweetened words by the appearance of good man. It wasn’t how women, how people, worked. Yet the commodore was worth the ruse; thanks to him, she would be able to get a better class of client, to work her way up to admirals and lords and beyond.
Lil stopped, smiled down at him. “Do I wear my hair up? Or down?”
Elizabeth’s hair was beautiful as it tumbled down about her shoulders. “Down.”
Lil reached up and slipped the pins out of her hair. She moved her fingers through it, shaking out the tawny curls as she crowded up between his thighs with a smile soft as silk. Doing so took all of her focus. She hadn’t concentrated so hard on smiling since her early days in the trade, back when she’d sold her virginity on at least three separate occasions. She reached out, ran her hand over the man’s forehead. Her fingers traced his hairline, then trailed along his cheek and jaw. At least he was handsome.
James closed his eyes. His lips parted as she touched them. The other hand ran into his hair and the tie there fall out without so much as a tug. Elizabeth’s fingers were skilled; she was good at untying knots. His balanced wavered, the smells of rum and her skin, the trace of her cheap perfume, all of it mixed and spun in his head. James tipped forward and into the rough fabric of a poor woman’s dress.
“How do you imagine it, James?”
It started as a tug between his heart and groin that moved his hands to grab her by the skirt of her dress. Fingers curled over and over as they collected fabric. He pulled her to his lap. The whisper came just before the kiss: “Elizabeth.”
His mouth landed heavy, ripened with emotion; it was too sweet, too soft, like the skin of certain fruits poised just on the cusp of rottenness. It unsettled Lil. Her instincts told her this was too much, to pull away, that he was in a dangerous muddied place where she might become his past. He might cling, then grow heavy, then drown her in his love. Fear coiled cold in the pit of her belly. It quickened her breath. She would pay for this one. He moaned a little. Hands with just enough experience to feign a virgin’s trembling awkwardness worked the cravat free from his neck. Lil loosened the buttons of his shirt. Their mouths parted for shared breaths before he pulled her back down into the kiss.
It was what he wanted and yet not enough; the room constricted around his expanding desire and his hand went to the buttons of her bodice, but other emotions stilled his fingers. He pulled out of the kiss and looked up into her eyes. The flickering dark hid the storms of Lil’s eyes; he only saw the deep wells of Elizabeth’s.
She looked at him in the dark and his face was a mystery. She could not read him. Her eyes sought out the familiar topography of pain, lust, hate, adoration---those were the landscapes she knew, but this was something different, more raw, more removed from its own origins. Something removed from her understanding. She struggled to pull him back into familiar waters.
“Touch me, James.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He looked up into her eyes, his gaze veiled with soft lashes. Lil looked back, peered into his darkness, and glimpsed the horizon of his memory.
“I love you, Elizabeth.”
“Touch me.”
He unbuttoned her bodice, loosened it from her shoulders and let it fall into her lap. He reached behind for the laces of her corset, mouth both claiming and surveying the arched territory of her neck, the rising and falling bridges of her collarbones. Lil rewarded him with a soft whimper, then a moan and a subtle shift of her shoulders, giving him more skin to explore.
His touches were hesitant, too soft, they held care and concern and too much respect; she felt her skin trying to respond, to be what he wanted, and she swallowed the urge to push him away. Her body knew the rough grabs and gropes of other men. She preferred them; she was a whore, a thing for sale, and she didn’t know what to do with such reverence. Yet his hands were as rough as any man’s who worked at sea. She would find her pleasure in the abrasive palm that roved and caressed her breast, the calloused thumb that scuffed her nipple to hardness. She encouraged him with a moan and stripped off her corset.
In shadows of room and memory James could not see the small angry scars that ran over Lil’s arms or the bruises, new and fading, left behind by other conquests. He saw only the smooth skin of Elizabeth, her sun-freckles, the fine hairs bleached white in the tropic sun as Lil pulled his shirt up off his body. He pulled her closer and held her moist skin against his, feeling the thud of her heart through her breast, her ribs laboring with her breath. Eyes closed, lost in Elizabeth, he did not catch Lil’s intentional adjustments in timing as his head dipped to lick the taste of salt from her breast. He groaned directly from his cock.
It comforted her, relaxing the tension in her muscles, calming the confusion in her mind. She let her face rest in his hair and gave her first real moan for him, it was deeper, darker, muskier, but it was real. She let her curls fall over his chest and shoulders as she kissed his neck. Her hips started to rock but she kept herself in check and waited. His breath was ragged and quickening; he’d move them into position on his own.
The shifts came swiftly and with experience as he worked them both up on the bed, letting Lil’s garments fall with grunts and pants from both until his beauty’s head nestled on pillows. James leaned over her, smiling, her face was haloed in curls and waves, and his smile softened with the shyness of a boy. She smiled back, but the flicker of the candle caught something flinty in the corners of her lips.
He dived into a kiss to smother it, propped on one hand for balance. He stroked her hair as he kissed her, and her frustration returned. She pulled his hand out of her hair and dragged it down to her bare thighs, cupped it tight and hard between them. She rolled her hips up into his palm.
“James,” she sighed.
“Elizabeth!”
“I need you, James,” her thighs opened, hips wanton. “Please. Don’t keep me waiting any longer.” Lil wanted, needed, this over with.
He nodded as he backed up on his knees to undo his breeches.
Lil didn’t bother to look, or to give him the chance to enter her like she was a temple; she pulled him down by his hair and his neck, and she kissed deep and hard as she moaned into his forceful entry. She clenched around him. Tight walls and wet heat welcomed him with each thrust and turned his love’s name into a mantra. With kisses and nips and gentle sucks on sun-brushed skin, he said it over and over. He couldn’t stop himself.
Lil wanted to gag him. She focused on the sensation of hot breath, the smell of all men in the throes of lust; he was good, he was experienced, skilled even. She did her best to press herself into him, to overwrite his moans with her own. When she realized his pleasure directly related to what he read of hers she overplayed it a little; clenched muscles more and gasped his name at the next thrust.
“Elizabeth…E- Elizabeth, I…I lo -“
Lil sucked the words out of him and swallowed them down in an almost vicious kiss. He came, and in his convulsion, his flood of sweet moans, she hated him; she wanted to destroy him, to bleed out his unsettling ways as he collapsed on top of her. He did not even have the decency to risk crushing her with his weight. Bastard.
She would allow him to remain; first inside her, then beside her, holding her close. She would allow him to fill with thanks. She stayed in his arms, listening to him murmur, her body coated in sweat and her cunt aching. She would listen to him doze and yearn for ruin and blood.
"Our fates have been entwined, Elizabeth, but never joined." ~ James Norrington