"A Chance and Risk" - Pirates of the Caribbean fic by voleuse
Title: A Chance and Risk
Author: voleuse
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Ship: Jack/Elizabeth (E/W)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He wanted to shipwreck in my thighs.
Notes: So PWP it's not even funny.
i. the open cove, the welcome
Will has been gone for four and a half weeks when the Captain Jack Sparrow shows up at Elizabeth's doorstep. Rather, the gate to her father's garden, as even Jack isn't brash enough to knock on the governor's door.
She's contemplating the state of orchids when he appears.
"You don't prefer roses, do you?" He leans against the trunk of a nearby tree, so casual he might have been standing there for hours.
Elizabeth straightens from her crouch, quickly enough to overbalance and stumble.
Before she can think to gasp, Jack is by her side, an arm wrapped around her waist, the other at her elbow. "Careful, love."
"Thank you." Will's been gone for four and a half weeks, and Elizabeth is very aware of the warmth of Jack's body against her side. She carefully extricates herself from his grasp. "Thank you," she repeats.
"A pleasure, Miss Swann." He grins, and something in her stomach flips over. "But where's young William? Surely you should be swooning into his strong arms."
"Will has," she clears her throat, "gone to England. Father thought he should become familiar with our estate before the wedding."
"And they've left you alone?" He leans closer to her again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To the tender mercy of pirates?"
"Had they known you planned to visit," she responds, lifting her eyebrows, "I'm sure Father would have apprised Commodore Norrington."
"Ah, the commodore." Jack looks about, dipping his chin, exaggerating the turn of his head. "Perhaps we should reminisce elsewhere."
"Reminisce?" Elizabeth's first response is to decline, but then she looks at the mansion, empty save for the servants. "I suppose that might be acceptable."
At that, Jack sweeps his hat off and bows, offers her his arm. "Try not to look conspicuous," he instructs.
Elizabeth ignores the comment, taking his elbow graciously. She also, most definitely, ignores the spice and salt scent of him, despite the stiff breeze that swirls around them.
He leads her through the muddy streets of the town, artfully avoiding the general populace. He's also unusually silent, aside from the occasional mutter at the greying sky.
They're at the beach by the fifth time he squints at the sky and grumbles, and Elizabeth pulls away from him.
"What is it, Jack?"
"High winds." He turns his gaze to the ocean. "Restless sea." He smiles. "A hurricane, Miss Swann."
"Hurricane?" She takes a step back, looking around the deserted beach. "Are we in any danger?"
Instead of answering, he kneels, then sprawls on the sand. Looks up at Elizabeth speculatively.
She takes it as a challenge, and sits beside him.
ii. exotic flowers never found
The wind picks up, not howling, but becoming loud enough that Elizabeth has to inch closer to Jack in order to decipher his words.
The sea crashes onto the beach, and as a palm frond swings down nearby, Elizabeth thinks she should be afraid.
Instead, she's fascinated, immersed in the rushing of the wind and water, in the sting of them against her skin.
And Jack's breath, warming her neck, and his hand, which she realizes has slid around her waist.
She turns her head to reprimand him, forgetting how close they sit, and when his lips skim against her cheek, she freezes. Draws back, and looks into Jack's eyes.
"I wish..." she murmurs.
He leans closer, until their lips are only an inch apart. "Yes?"
"Rum."
"Do you, now?" His laugh is dark, rich. "And why is that, Miss Swann?"
"Because then," she whispers, "I wouldn't be responsible."
His fingers reach up, brush her jaw. "For what?"
"This," she says, and presses her lips to his.
iii. he wanted to plunge in to me
The ocean becomes more violent, so they stumble, trip over the sand and back to the line of palm trees.
"William?" Jack asks, peppering her wrist with kisses.
"I don't think he'd mind, actually," she gasps. "We discussed it once."
Jack chuckles, licks her collarbone. "Hardly sounds proper."
"There was," she explains, "some liquor involved."
"Good lad, William," Jack mutters against her breasts. "I knew I liked him."
Elizabeth curses herself, even as she eases her hands under the collar of Jack's shirt, shoves it off his shoulders. She tries to think of a reason why she shouldn't do this.
"I thought you and Anamaria were..." His mouth brushes against her neck, and she forgets her question.
He does not. "I have only one lover, Miss Swann. She goes by many names." His fingers pluck at the stays of her gown, not yet undoing them, but hinting at possibilities. "Isabel. Marie. Serafina. Tess." His breath is warm against her ear. "Elizabeth?"
It isn't a request, really, but she nods her assent to whatever he has proposed. The ground, solid, rocks beneath her feet, and she wonders if this is what he feels when off the Pearl.
Then his mouth descends on hers, and she stops thinking anything at all.
It's several minutes, or perhaps mere seconds, before she pulls away from him with a moan.
There was something, she thinks, something she was asking Jack. Something that might be important. As he spins her around, helps her shrug off the outer layer of her garments, she remembers.
"So," she tries again, "not Anamaria?" She leans her head back, arches her neck as his lips trace its line.
"You know who she is, Elizabeth." His voice is a low growl behind her ear, a caress that sweeps and sparks as it trails down. "You've touched her. You're a part of her now." He plucks the laces of her corset, pulling them loose. "She knows you as one of her own."
"Does she?" She breathes deeply as the garment loosens and falls. "I think I would have," she gasps as his hands curve over her breasts, "remembered that."
His hands still. "Listen. You'll hear her."
"Hear her?" Elizabeth freezes, but he only lifts his chin. She tries to hear anything over the drumming of her heart. "All I hear is the wind. The waves."
Jack's hands stir. "Yes," he purrs as Elizabeth mewls. "She likes you."
"You mean she's--" She turns to look at Jack, to see the gleam in his eyes. His gaze sweeps over her pink cheeks, her swollen lips, and down, and Elizabeth forgets the question.
Jack wraps his hands around her waist, pulls her flush against his body, and she cannot quell the instinctive roll of her hips when he prods against her belly.
In response, he grins, slides his hands to grasp her buttocks and pull her more firmly against him.
As he presses her back against a palm tree, she slides her hands, very deliberately, down his chest, and lower.
Jack stills. Groans, pulls at her skirts, pushing cloth up and aside.
Elizabeth thinks, faintly, that she should try protesting, but he drops to his knees, ducking under her skirts.
"Jack?" she asks, voice trembling.
His hands gently push apart her thighs, and she has only the gust of his breath as a warning before his tongue flicks at the juncture of legs.
Elizabeth's shriek is lost in the wind, as is every subsequent moan. A delicious pressure builds low in her belly, and she digs her nails into the bark of the palm tree, doesn't even mind the scratch of it against her skin.
Then, just as she thinks she's about to shatter, Jack ducks away, resurfaces from beneath her skirts.
"Jack!" she grinds out, clenching her teeth. "Please."
He rises from the ground, drawing her skirts up until they're bunched around her waist, fumbles at his trousers.
Elizabeth lifts on her toes as he hitches one of her thighs around his hips, but just when he's right there, he pauses.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes, Jack?" she responds, with what she thinks is remarkable composure.
"Have you and Will ever--"
She nods, feels a blush steal across her cheeks.
"Well, then," he murmurs, and thrusts into her in one smooth stroke.
iv. rare and there just for him
When Will finally returns from England, it takes a few days before Elizabeth manages to steal away with him.
Afterwards, he kisses her, softly, slowly. "I missed you," he says, his hand trailing down her arm.
"I missed you, too," she whispers, nuzzling his neck.
"Were you lonely without me?" he asks.
She draws back, slightly, and takes a deep breath.
"It's funny you should ask."
###
A/N: Title, summary, and headings adapted from I
was to be his vacation, by Lyn Lifshin. Link provided
by breathe_poetry.
Author: voleuse
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Ship: Jack/Elizabeth (E/W)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He wanted to shipwreck in my thighs.
Notes: So PWP it's not even funny.
i. the open cove, the welcome
Will has been gone for four and a half weeks when the Captain Jack Sparrow shows up at Elizabeth's doorstep. Rather, the gate to her father's garden, as even Jack isn't brash enough to knock on the governor's door.
She's contemplating the state of orchids when he appears.
"You don't prefer roses, do you?" He leans against the trunk of a nearby tree, so casual he might have been standing there for hours.
Elizabeth straightens from her crouch, quickly enough to overbalance and stumble.
Before she can think to gasp, Jack is by her side, an arm wrapped around her waist, the other at her elbow. "Careful, love."
"Thank you." Will's been gone for four and a half weeks, and Elizabeth is very aware of the warmth of Jack's body against her side. She carefully extricates herself from his grasp. "Thank you," she repeats.
"A pleasure, Miss Swann." He grins, and something in her stomach flips over. "But where's young William? Surely you should be swooning into his strong arms."
"Will has," she clears her throat, "gone to England. Father thought he should become familiar with our estate before the wedding."
"And they've left you alone?" He leans closer to her again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To the tender mercy of pirates?"
"Had they known you planned to visit," she responds, lifting her eyebrows, "I'm sure Father would have apprised Commodore Norrington."
"Ah, the commodore." Jack looks about, dipping his chin, exaggerating the turn of his head. "Perhaps we should reminisce elsewhere."
"Reminisce?" Elizabeth's first response is to decline, but then she looks at the mansion, empty save for the servants. "I suppose that might be acceptable."
At that, Jack sweeps his hat off and bows, offers her his arm. "Try not to look conspicuous," he instructs.
Elizabeth ignores the comment, taking his elbow graciously. She also, most definitely, ignores the spice and salt scent of him, despite the stiff breeze that swirls around them.
He leads her through the muddy streets of the town, artfully avoiding the general populace. He's also unusually silent, aside from the occasional mutter at the greying sky.
They're at the beach by the fifth time he squints at the sky and grumbles, and Elizabeth pulls away from him.
"What is it, Jack?"
"High winds." He turns his gaze to the ocean. "Restless sea." He smiles. "A hurricane, Miss Swann."
"Hurricane?" She takes a step back, looking around the deserted beach. "Are we in any danger?"
Instead of answering, he kneels, then sprawls on the sand. Looks up at Elizabeth speculatively.
She takes it as a challenge, and sits beside him.
ii. exotic flowers never found
The wind picks up, not howling, but becoming loud enough that Elizabeth has to inch closer to Jack in order to decipher his words.
The sea crashes onto the beach, and as a palm frond swings down nearby, Elizabeth thinks she should be afraid.
Instead, she's fascinated, immersed in the rushing of the wind and water, in the sting of them against her skin.
And Jack's breath, warming her neck, and his hand, which she realizes has slid around her waist.
She turns her head to reprimand him, forgetting how close they sit, and when his lips skim against her cheek, she freezes. Draws back, and looks into Jack's eyes.
"I wish..." she murmurs.
He leans closer, until their lips are only an inch apart. "Yes?"
"Rum."
"Do you, now?" His laugh is dark, rich. "And why is that, Miss Swann?"
"Because then," she whispers, "I wouldn't be responsible."
His fingers reach up, brush her jaw. "For what?"
"This," she says, and presses her lips to his.
iii. he wanted to plunge in to me
The ocean becomes more violent, so they stumble, trip over the sand and back to the line of palm trees.
"William?" Jack asks, peppering her wrist with kisses.
"I don't think he'd mind, actually," she gasps. "We discussed it once."
Jack chuckles, licks her collarbone. "Hardly sounds proper."
"There was," she explains, "some liquor involved."
"Good lad, William," Jack mutters against her breasts. "I knew I liked him."
Elizabeth curses herself, even as she eases her hands under the collar of Jack's shirt, shoves it off his shoulders. She tries to think of a reason why she shouldn't do this.
"I thought you and Anamaria were..." His mouth brushes against her neck, and she forgets her question.
He does not. "I have only one lover, Miss Swann. She goes by many names." His fingers pluck at the stays of her gown, not yet undoing them, but hinting at possibilities. "Isabel. Marie. Serafina. Tess." His breath is warm against her ear. "Elizabeth?"
It isn't a request, really, but she nods her assent to whatever he has proposed. The ground, solid, rocks beneath her feet, and she wonders if this is what he feels when off the Pearl.
Then his mouth descends on hers, and she stops thinking anything at all.
It's several minutes, or perhaps mere seconds, before she pulls away from him with a moan.
There was something, she thinks, something she was asking Jack. Something that might be important. As he spins her around, helps her shrug off the outer layer of her garments, she remembers.
"So," she tries again, "not Anamaria?" She leans her head back, arches her neck as his lips trace its line.
"You know who she is, Elizabeth." His voice is a low growl behind her ear, a caress that sweeps and sparks as it trails down. "You've touched her. You're a part of her now." He plucks the laces of her corset, pulling them loose. "She knows you as one of her own."
"Does she?" She breathes deeply as the garment loosens and falls. "I think I would have," she gasps as his hands curve over her breasts, "remembered that."
His hands still. "Listen. You'll hear her."
"Hear her?" Elizabeth freezes, but he only lifts his chin. She tries to hear anything over the drumming of her heart. "All I hear is the wind. The waves."
Jack's hands stir. "Yes," he purrs as Elizabeth mewls. "She likes you."
"You mean she's--" She turns to look at Jack, to see the gleam in his eyes. His gaze sweeps over her pink cheeks, her swollen lips, and down, and Elizabeth forgets the question.
Jack wraps his hands around her waist, pulls her flush against his body, and she cannot quell the instinctive roll of her hips when he prods against her belly.
In response, he grins, slides his hands to grasp her buttocks and pull her more firmly against him.
As he presses her back against a palm tree, she slides her hands, very deliberately, down his chest, and lower.
Jack stills. Groans, pulls at her skirts, pushing cloth up and aside.
Elizabeth thinks, faintly, that she should try protesting, but he drops to his knees, ducking under her skirts.
"Jack?" she asks, voice trembling.
His hands gently push apart her thighs, and she has only the gust of his breath as a warning before his tongue flicks at the juncture of legs.
Elizabeth's shriek is lost in the wind, as is every subsequent moan. A delicious pressure builds low in her belly, and she digs her nails into the bark of the palm tree, doesn't even mind the scratch of it against her skin.
Then, just as she thinks she's about to shatter, Jack ducks away, resurfaces from beneath her skirts.
"Jack!" she grinds out, clenching her teeth. "Please."
He rises from the ground, drawing her skirts up until they're bunched around her waist, fumbles at his trousers.
Elizabeth lifts on her toes as he hitches one of her thighs around his hips, but just when he's right there, he pauses.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes, Jack?" she responds, with what she thinks is remarkable composure.
"Have you and Will ever--"
She nods, feels a blush steal across her cheeks.
"Well, then," he murmurs, and thrusts into her in one smooth stroke.
iv. rare and there just for him
When Will finally returns from England, it takes a few days before Elizabeth manages to steal away with him.
Afterwards, he kisses her, softly, slowly. "I missed you," he says, his hand trailing down her arm.
"I missed you, too," she whispers, nuzzling his neck.
"Were you lonely without me?" he asks.
She draws back, slightly, and takes a deep breath.
"It's funny you should ask."
###
A/N: Title, summary, and headings adapted from I
was to be his vacation, by Lyn Lifshin. Link provided
by breathe_poetry.