Terrifying pirate captain and her first mate
Bestfriend!LorenzoBerkshire x Reader
“Oh, but being a pirate is so boring, Enzo…” I groaned, flopping dramatically onto the edge of the bed. My arms flailed like I was auditioning for some tragic sea opera, and I could feel the plush carpet tickling my ankles.
“You promised we’d match,” he said, holding up two tiny pirate hats like a kid showing off a shiny new toy. His grin was ridiculous, impossibly wide, and his eyes—those brown eyes I’d gotten hopelessly lost in—were sparkling like they were hiding secrets meant only for me. “So, come on, Captain.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I might see my own brain. “Fine…” I sighed, surrendering with all the grace of a pirate surrendering their ship. My defeat was total, complete, and utterly charming, apparently, because he clapped his hands together like he’d won some grand prize.
We shuffled to the bathroom. He held his hat precariously in one hand, while the other hand was buried in his pockets, probably because he didn’t know what to do with his excitement. I couldn’t help but notice the little things—the way the light hit his cheekbones, the faint scruff along his jaw, the way his hair refused to cooperate no matter how much he tried to tame it.
“Okay, we’re going to need patience,” I said, grabbing the saltwater spray. I perched behind him, careful not to poke him with the bottle. “You have to stay still, or this whole pirate thing is going to look like we got attacked by a storm.”
He leaned slightly forward, his chin tilted just enough that I could see the corners of his mouth twitching, like he knew something I didn’t. “It would be hilarious if someone came as a wizard,” he said casually, his voice carrying that teasing lilt I knew so well.
“Hilarious, Berkshire,” I muttered, though I couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto my lips. I fluffed his hair, trying to make it look perfectly windswept without overdoing it. The way it caught the light made me pause for a second—he looked ridiculously good for someone in a ridiculous costume. And, of course, I was thinking far too much about how lucky I was to get to stand behind him like this, hand in his hair, in this utterly domestic, chaotic, warm little bubble.
On a whim, I grabbed a small stick of black eyeliner from the counter. “Hold still,” I said, tilting his chin up gently. He froze instantly, like he was carved out of stone, letting me draw a tiny pirate mustache and a thin line under his eye.
“You’re way too patient for this,” I teased, smudging the line slightly to make it look more rugged and authentic.
He didn’t answer right away. He just watched me. And oh, God—watching me. That look in his eyes made my stomach do a little flip, made my chest feel tight in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Warmth radiated from him, and it wasn’t just body heat. It was something that hit me deeper, like he was… loving me silently, completely.
“Done,” I said finally, stepping back to admire my handiwork.
He tilted his head, smirking as he ran a finger over the smudged mustache. “You make me look… dangerous,” he said softly, almost like it was a secret between just the two of us.
I laughed, but I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks anyway. “Dangerous? Really? That’s the word you went with?”
He shook his head, still smiling, but his expression softened, and the teasing faded. “No… no, I mean…” His voice dropped, quieter, sincere. “You make me look… perfect.”
I froze for a moment, the brush in my hand hovering mid-air. Perfect? Him? My brain stuttered, my heart skipped, and I shoved him lightly. “Berkshire!”
But he didn’t move away. He just leaned closer, forehead nearly brushing mine, that infuriating, infuriating grin still there but gentler now. “Seriously… you’re ridiculous. And amazing.”
I rolled my eyes, but the grin I couldn’t suppress betrayed me. My braid shifted slightly, catching a strand of his hair, and I felt like I was drifting in some slow, beautiful moment that existed outside of time. He always had this effect on me—how could someone be both infuriatingly playful and utterly grounding all at once?
“Just wait until everyone sees you like this,” I said, stepping back a little, pretending to regain control. “They’re going to think I actually forced you into pirate fashion.”
“They’ll be jealous,” he replied, his voice low, teasing, and somehow heavy with something else I couldn’t name but could feel deep in my chest. Desire? Care? Devotion? Maybe all three, and it made me giddy and nervous all at once.
I shook my head, tugging my braid back into place. “Okay, Captain, let’s go ruin the party.”
He grinned at me, that confident, boyish grin that always made my heart lurch, and I couldn’t help but think: no one else could make being a pirate this fun. Not the ridiculous hat, not the smudged eyeliner, not even the mismatched shoes he’d chosen just to mess with me—none of it mattered because it was him, and him was perfect.
As we walked to the door, he reached for my hand, fingers brushing mine, tugging me gently into his side. “You know,” he said, his voice quiet, “I think we make a good team. Pirates, wizards, whatever they want to call us… I’d rather be stuck on this ridiculous ship with you than anywhere else.”
I laughed softly, resting my head on his shoulder for just a second, letting him guide me out of the bedroom. “You mean because you get to boss me around?” I teased.
“No,” he said immediately, eyes locking on mine, full of that earnest warmth I couldn’t resist. “Because you’re… you. You make all of this… better.”
My heart almost melted entirely. I felt my chest tighten, warmth pooling everywhere. “Berkshire…” I whispered, letting the sound linger like a spell.
He leaned down then, kissing the top of my head, soft, careful, and absolutely infuriating in the way it made me feel. Butterflies, warmth, a little bit of dizzy happiness—it was all there, all at once.
“Come on,” he said finally, tugging my hand gently. “Let’s show them the most terrifying pirate captain and her first mate.”
I laughed, following him down the hall, my heart swelling in a way I wasn’t even trying to hide. And as we stepped into the living room, him in his little pirate hat perched perfectly on his messy hair, me in my matching costume, I realized something simple but profound: no costume, no party, no silly outfit or smudged eyeliner could ever be better than this—being here with him, laughing, touching, loving. He had my heart, my whole, chaotic, messy heart, and there was no pretending otherwise.
And in that ridiculous, playful, utterly perfect moment, I thought: maybe being a pirate isn’t boring after all.
