he sails the roughs seas, taking over and slaughtering other ships, not a care for the blood that stains the water. as the captain of his ship, his crew listens to him happily, knowing they will be rewarded with women and booze when they get back to the coast.
one night, when they are in the middle of the ocean, their net catches something far bigger than a goldfish. pulling it up, gojo’s eyes widen when he sees you, a scaly creature with smooth skin and wide, fearful eyes.
a mermaid.
you squirm and try to escape the net, the cruel ropes cutting your skin. your tail shifts into a pair of legs, leaving you mostly nude in front of all these men.
gojo spends the rest of his night watching over you, how you cower in the corner of the cage below deck, how you shiver cold in the shirt he gave you. but what fascinates him the most is the way you keep looking at your legs, as though you’d never seen yourself like that before.
well, will he teach to use them, or what’s in between them?
Sailing au where Ghost and Soap have the same favorite working girl, but neither of them know it...
They have opposite schedules, one out to sea when the other's at port, the one on land shipping off just as the other's making his way to your brothel. They both pay handsomely for exclusivity, but surely they don't expect you to stop working while they're away, do they? So, you happily accept their coin and tell each of them they're the best you've ever had.
The schedule works out perfectly for months, and you manage to squirrel away a tidy sum, saving up to turn your life around and make something of yourself. And you would have done it, except their ships happen to dock at the same time one night, and there they are in your room, snarling at each other.
They're hurling insults back and forth, telling you to let the other man know you're spoken for, that you've been theirs for months. Halfway through the third curse invoking someone's dearly departed granny, they seem to realize you've been playing them, taking their coin and fucking the other man while they're away.
Their ire turns on you - you've been so naughty, pet, breaking your word to wait for them. Greedy, that's what you are, so they're just going to have to make sure you're throughly satisfied. They really ought to punish you (lying's a sin, lass), but they'll settle for you taking both of them between your legs tonight. You'll have to tell them who's really the best lover in the morning.
Yeah, I may have to actually make this into something...
we’re not exactly re-inventing the wheel here, but I’ve been dreaming of pirate!eddie…
Your quarters on the ship weren’t all that terrible, considering you were a prisoner.
The mattress was small, but stuffed with a decent amount of soft padding. It had a window through which you could gauge the time of day, and count the nights you’d spent aboard this vessel so far— too narrow to climb out of, though, if it had led to anything besides a long drop into open ocean.
If you left it open during the day, it let in a strong sea breeze laced with the raucous sounds of the crew singing and laughing with one another.
The heavy door was locked from the outside, but could also be barred from the inside. So you were not free to leave, but no one could enter without your allowance. This was the only thing that’d permitted you even a wink of sleep so far.
It was comfortable enough, to be sure. But not at all comfortable enough to forget it was a cell.
You’d heard only rumors of Captain Munson and his band of rogues he had accumulated over the years. They were a young and rowdy group, the majority of them having joined not only willingly, but eagerly. Eddie often rescued indentured boys sold by their families into trades, offering passage on his ship so that they could make a new life for themselves at the next port, or stay aboard the ship indefinitely. Very few chose the former.
They were known far and wide for their swiftness, and their ability to overtake a ship and plunder its cargo. But unlike so many others, they left those they had robbed with their ships and lives intact. They sought nothing but adventure and coin to fritter away on food and drink and pleasurable company. And rarely, if ever, took prisoners.
At least until now.
Their captain was even more of a mystery. People called him by many names—The Master of Waves Edward the Banished, Bard of the Sea—but he’d asked you to simply call him Eddie the night he first came to visit your chambers.
You had unbarred the door and rushed backward to press your back up against the wall, protecting it as best you could. He sauntered in and placed down a tarnished silver tray on the bed.
“They tell me you’re not eating,” he said simply.
You inhaled a stilted breath, fist clutched around the letter opener in your hand. You found it inside the drawer of the desk pushed into the far corner, and figured it was a better weapon than nothing.
His men had brought you three trays of food you left untouched, saying nothing when they came back to collect the scraps a few hours later.
And you still said nothing, even as the captain of this ship looked you up and down with his deep brown eyes the color of cacao beans.
A shiver trickled down your spine, but you refused to let your nerves show through. Instead, you did your best to size him up just as he was you: taking in his head of tousled curls he kept tied down, his long fingers adorned with showy rings of silver and blood red stones, his loose shirt left open to reveal glimpses of black ink etched into his chest.
Eddie flipped the cover off the tray and revealed a few wedges of cheese and crusty bread; a leg of chicken with crisp, golden brown skin; and a gloriously ripe, bright green apple.
Your stomach roared loudly and he couldn’t help but to smirk, his ruddy cheeks creasing with laugh lines and a pair of deep dimples.
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what’s stopping you,” he said with an irritatingly smug look.
Irritating because he was right.
He reached for the apple and tossed it in the air, catching it easily. He then flashed you a smile and opened his mouth to take a large, messy bite out of the side—crunching loudly between his teeth, juice running down his chin, dribbling into his stubble. His smile never dropping.
He placed the apple back on the tray and dragged his sleeve across his mouth, his gaze holding fast.
“It’s good, you should have some,” he chuckled.
Your eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring indignantly. His head just shook at your steely silence.
“Whenever you decide you’re ready to talk, you can call me Eddie,” he said, still laughing to himself as he turned towards the door.
He pulled it open to leave, only to poke his head back inside at the last moment.
“You can trust me, you know,” he said, peering at you slyly. “What would be the fun in killing you when we’ve only just gotten you?”
summary: Jason is running out of time. Desperate to break the curse that's killing him, he kidnaps the woman responsible for it, only to discover she's far more stubborn, and far less guilty, than he expected.
content: fantasy, angst, curses, slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers, violence, blood, kidnapping, harassment, probably inaccuracies about pirates and pirate life, allusions to sexual harassment, reader is very educated and bold to the point of stupidity, Jason is amused but doesn't want to show it, if i missed any lmk
words: 10.330
Jason always hated the way Tortuga smelled.
The stench of rum, fish, waste and death invaded his senses, making it impossible to ignore. Most of all he hated how he added to it. The splatters of blood on his knuckles was fresh. Bile rushed up his throat at the reminder.
The crack of his neck echoed in the empty bedchamber as he stared at the man sprawled at his feet, illuminated by the soft glow provided by the oil lamp. The only other sounds were the quiet snores of the whore, naked and asleep, and the shallow, ragged breaths of the man lying at his mercy.
He rolled his shoulders as he squatted to the floor, yanking the man by the collar. “Is your tongue feeling loose yet?” Jason tilted his head, green eyes cold. Uncaring.
The man wheezed, blood splattering from his mouth, staining his chin that ugly shade of red. Blue and purple bruises bloomed under his skin. Jason watched as he struggled but did no motion to help him, or lessen his pain in any way.
He stared at him trying not to think about the person he had become. He couldn't bare to.
Once upon a time he would have felt bad for this. For beating a man to an inch of his life. For nearly condemning an otherwise innocent man to a fate he had already suffered from.
But not anymore. Not him. Not when he was this close to tasting the end. Not when the secrets the man held could be his salvation.
Jason watched as the man's lips moved, trying to form words but was unable to, as he fell in and out of consciousness.
He rolled his eyes at the sight before him. Pathetic.
He pulled the man up from the collar, immediately dragging him back to the land of the living.
“Speak,” he demanded, ignoring the sharp sting on his fingers and the pain shooting up his spine. His fist instinctively tightened its grip, grounding him.
“Go- The Gov-” the man slurred, a stray tear trickling from the corner of his eye, mixing with the blood and soot on his face. “The Governor's wife.” he rasped, hand slowly raising, clasping over Jason's.
His eyes glinted at the answer, a small smirk gracing his face, “Wasn’t that hard, aye?” he says immediately letting go of him.
He wiped his hands on the man’s shirt —not that it did him any good, it looked filthier than his hands had ever been— and stomped to the door, the cacophony invaded his ears when he opened it.
Jason stilled for a moment, as his hand touched the hat he had left on the door handle. The thought of calling someone to treat the poor bastard choking on his own blood crossed his mind if only for a second. It disappeared just as quickly.
He was a pirate, not a nurse. Besides, that whore would wake up soon enough, and he liked to think she’d be gracious enough to take care of him.
He quickly left the room, placing his hat back on his head, calling his crew to make for the ship, descending the stairs two at a time.
There was no time to waste—not when the curse still clung to his bones like rot. Not when he knew how to put an end to it.
You hissed as the needle pricked your finger, drawing it immediately to your mouth sucking on the blood. Just as quickly you pulled it away, manners engraved too deep into your bones to allow yourself such an indecency. You stared at it instead, watching as the blood trickled down your finger before it stopped.
You recall your late mother saying how you’ve always seemed to recover faster than other people. Your father called it a gift from God. You never paid it any mind.
“Perhaps, if you held it like a needle, milady, and not like a dagger, it wouldn’t see fit to bite you.” the velvety voice of Margaret Reed, one of your ladies and long time friend, interrupts your thoughts, forcing you back to reality.
You raise your gaze to lay eyes on her. To anyone else she would have seemed uninterested as she sat on the settee, hand moving with precision as she embroidered yet another flower on a piece of cloth that would be forgotten as soon as she was finished with it. But to those that knew her, the glint in her eye was unmistakable, and what would have otherwise been a reprimand, was teasing words between friends.
"At least the needle possesses spirit,” you exhale as you pick up the needle again, slowly pulling on the thread, “Unlike those spineless dandies you keep calling 'prospects'." you say, your lip tugging into a smile.
“Milady!” she gasps scandalized at your words, hands falling on her lap, as she tried desperately to hide the amusement she felt.
You giggle at her reaction. You always thought it was curious how you ended up being so close to her. Sure, you run in the same social circle, but other than that you were nothing alike.
Where she was the perfect example of a high society woman, always poised and refined, you were trying everything to get away from the role fate had assigned you. You knew how to embroider—although badly— and how to play the piano and lute. You learned how to horseback ride from a very young age, and if anyone were to ask you about science, you would most likely know the answer.
You had received the education fitting to someone of your status. The problem lied with the other things you learned along the way.
Like which door creaks the least at night. Or the shift change of the guards, when your father was fast asleep –although that last one wasn't anything remarkable, everyone in the estate knew by the small earthquakes that followed.
You had also learned how to deter suitors, much to you father's disdain.
Turns out men don't enjoy being told they're lacking in intelligence, regardless of how easy some made it.
“Oh, calm yourself Margaret. There is no one here but the two of us.” you brush her off, “Besides, not a word I’ve spoken is false.” you close your eyes, awfully sure of your words.
You saw her take a deep breath in from the corner of your eye, “True or not, milady, it is your duty to behave like a proper lady—and secure a good match.” she says pointedly.
You scoff at her words, there she goes again. You discard the cloth, rolling your eyes, “And I am to do so by hemming handkerchiefs for men that think embroidery is the height of my ambitions?” you say, words sharp, “It’s pointless, wouldn’t you think?” you stand up, straightening out the blue dress your maid, Anne, had picked out for you this morning.
“The point is being a good wife.”
You offer her a tight lipped smile, as you carefully walk towards the library you had installed in your room, “As you shall be soon, I daresay.” you smirk, staring as her face turns into all different shades of red from the corner of your eye.
"And, besides,” you continue, seeing she was too flustered to even talk, “of what use is needlepoint, when men govern a colony with half a brain and no manners?" your fingers scan the covers of the well loved books in your collection.
Her gasp filled the room, “Mind your tongue!" she exclaims, "Heaven forbid your father heard you.”
“He should recover, no doubt.” you say, tone dismissive.
Your father had survived much worse than your words.
“You’ll set the world alight someday” she exhales resignedly, “if the men don’t throw water on you first.”
“Oh, I do hope they try! I’ve always wanted to see a powdered wig catch fire.” you giggle as you walk back to the settee, falling back onto it. Margaret shakes her head in disapproval.
“Milday, you must—” she begins to say, but the knock on the door interrupts her. You both turn towards it, seeing the bright red head of a young servant girl peeking through the crack.
“Pardon the interruption milady, Lord Smythe requests the presence of Lady Margaret.” she says, looking at the floor, too new and scared to look at either of you in the eye.
Margaret snaps towards you, her eyes bright at the sound of her betrothed's name, silently asking for permission to go. As if you would ever keep her from running to him.
Lord Smythe had asked her hand in marriage not too long ago, whilst they were on a walk in her fathers estate. And Margaret seemed ecstatic to begin her new life as a wife, and eventually, a mother. You didn’t understand her, but were happy for your friend nonetheless.
“Run along Margaret, I promise nothing will be set ablaze in your absence” you say giggling, as she hurriedly stands up and heads to the door, saying a rushed thank you and goodbye, before the door closes behind her.
Once you were officially alone you exhaled at the silence that surrounded you, the soft waves crashing against the rocks, hardly audible.
You stared at the closed door, wondering how it would feel to be excited to get married like Margaret was. How it would feel for your eyes to light up at the mention of someone's name. To be excited at the thought of seeing someone.
But all the ‘prospects’, as Margaret liked to call the men your father presented you to, were bland, to put it simply. And, besides, you weren’t keen on giving up your freedom. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Better a spinster, than a wife.
Despite your wishes, you also knew you didn’t have a choice. Not really.
You were the daughter of the Governor, every day of your life has been leading up to the moment of your wedding, to whoever that might be.
Your feelings didn’t matter half as much as your status, if even at all.
You tear your gaze away from the intricately carved door, as you stand up heading towards the balcony.
The salt air was a welcome sensation on your skin, your eyes locked on the horizon. You watched as the sun slowly descended to the sea, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow.
You close your eyes, leaning against the rail. You let the sounds of the sea and the birds fill your ears, completely ridding your mind of all unwanted thoughts as you start wondering how life would be if your fate wasn't your own.
You exhale, smiling at the chance of being free. To do what? You don't know yet. But it’ll be exciting. And new. And maybe a little terrifying. But it’ll be your own.
You smile as you open your eyes, staring at the beautiful picture that had been created before you, completely missing the hooded figure staring up at your balcony ominously.
Waiting.
Jason knew that it wasn’t very ‘piratey’ of him to sneak into the estate in the dead of the night, and while he’s sure his crew would love to ransack the place and then go get drunk, he couldn’t have anyone following his trail.
The reward was too high for the risk.
He looks around, grimacing at the sight of bust statues of men whose names he couldn’t bother to remember, littered around the hall, lifeless and judgemental, much like the guests in the countless balls his father used to host. His stomach turned at the deja vu, the governor's estate being much too similar to the one he used to call home once upon a time.
The memories crashed into his mind, like the waves against the bow of his ship, angry and unforgiving.
He remembers the way people danced, created something akin to an illusion, leaving him mesmerized by it. Leaving him wanting, wishing to be like them.
He can almost see, his older brother amongst the dancers, some high society girl in his arms, blissfully twirling around, oblivious to how her partner seemed more interested in the sea, than her.
He can almost feel the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder, as he looked over the party.
Jason shakes his head, being pulled back into the present by the chilly air entering through the window he left open, shoving the memories back to where they belonged, locked away and buried beneath years of grime and saltwater. All that happened in another lifetime. He’s a different man now, nothing like the boy donning silk and jewels.
Thankfully, after this was over with, he wouldn’t have to think about any of that ever again.
Slipping in the shadows was second nature to him at this point, disappearing between the paintings decorating the walls, leaving no trace of his presence behind.
His footsteps were muffled by the velvet carpet, as he sneaked around the estate, looking for the room he found out to be yours earlier that day.
He’d be quick. Get in. Muffle you while you were asleep. Get out.
Child’s play for the man the entire Royal Navy was searching but could never find.
Jason's eyes shine in the dark once your door slips into view, a smile slowly creeping up his face.
He walks towards the ornately decorated door, reaching for the handle. He could almost taste freedom on his togue.
But the sound of footsteps, make him stop in his tracks, resembling the statues along the hall.
They are quick as they echo, bouncing against the walls.
Jason curses as he dives behind the curtains, hidden from the sight of whoever is walking the estates hall at this hour.
"Miss Anne, see to it that the young mistress is prepared in good time for Lord Whittemore's arrival” a deep voice ordered.
Lord Whittemore? Jason hadn’t heard that name in years, but he did remember the man. He was prissy, and what his crew, him included, would call a molly. Always dressed to the nines and always looking at young women, despite the fact was already greying under that God awful wig of his.
He grimaces in disgust at the implication of his arrival.
"And might I trust you to ensure that she properly conducts herself? None of her usual antics." the man continues, not allowing the woman to answer first, "I should hate for the Governor to be met with any measure of embarrassment.”
“Yes, my Lord.” a much younger female voice answers. She sounds timid. Like she’s scared to say anything else.
Jason holds his breath as he listens closely to the footsteps growing quieter, as the pair of them leave to torment some other poor soul he assumes.
This wasn’t part of the plan. If he takes you now, everyone will know by the morning. Every ship in the area will be searching for you.
But if he doesn’t, you’ll be basically sold off, and he’ll have to make both a new plan and bypass whatever security that prick Whittemore will have protecting you. And God forbid the old man gets you pregnant before he’s able to get to you.
So he might as well get it over with now and spare you in the process. Not that you would care. He's seen his fair share of breakdowns over failed courtships. You'd probably be mad if you didn't get to marry that geezer.
Jason takes a deep breath as he quietly leaves the safety of the curtains, his calloused hand grabbing the door handle. Your room comes into view soon after.
You are sitting at the canape, holding a book in your hands, the warm light of the candle by your side illuminates your figure.
He holds his breath as you stop yourself from turning the page, his hand immediately reaching for his sword, ready for you to start screaming. You stare at nothing as you listen in closely to his movements. But it only seems to last a moment before you continue reading.
Jason cannot see what the book is about, but it must be interesting enough for you to not pay him any mind.
He takes a moment to stare at you, as he slowly unsheathes his sword, creeping behind you.
He couldn’t quite understand how you could be the solution to all his problems, or how you were the cause of them in the first place. You didn't look any different from other daughters of aristocratic families. He can’t imagine you’d act any different either.
He didn’t mind that at all. Hell, it made his job easier.
He’d lock you in a cell, get you to the Pit and break his curse. Simple as that.
Yet, he found himself stilling as he stood above you, breath ragged. Sword in hand. Ready to strike.
You hummed a tune as you turned the page of your book, eyes scanning the page.
“Miss Anne?” you called, not raising your gaze, “Might you be so kind as to see that the bed is properly prepared?” your voice was soft, thinking you were talking to your maid.
Jason watched you for a second longer, reveling at your obliviousness. Then, the hilt of his sword struck the back of your head, a sickening thud echoing in the room. You fell limp right into his arms.
He almost felt bad.
Almost.
You don’t think you’ve had a headache quite like this before. Your whole head was throbbing, like a thousand little hammers were pounding away in your skull. And the ringing in your ears only made it worse.
You groan as you try to open your eyes, a hand immediately shooting up your face, as if that could help in any way.
You blink, trying to focus, your hands barely visible as the dizziness hits you again, the second wave stronger than the first.
“Miss Anne?” you call out, sitting up slowly, managing to feel the hard surface beneath you. You must have fallen to the floor while you were sleeping, “Would you be kind enough to fetch me something for the pain?”
You wait for her soft voice, her usual flurry of movement as she scurries to help. But nothing comes. Just silence.
“Anne?” you call out again, ignoring how your head couldn’t stop spinning. Silence still.
You slowly move your head away from the light, ready to call out to her again, but another voice, unfamiliar and rough, cuts through the silence.
“I’m no maid lassie,” it calls and you feel your blood run cold. Why is there a man in your quarters? “And this ain’t your fancy estate.”
Your hands scramble trying to find something to grab, but you only find wood and dust surrounding you.
You force your eyes open, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, wiping the pain away, sharpening your vision. You take a frantic look around, scanning your surroundings.
It’s dark. Darker than it should be, the only sliver of light spilling from a tiny window high above you. The floor is rough beneath your fingertips, eroded and stained with blotches you’d rather not think the origin of.
Your gaze darts to the far end of the room and that’s when you see it.
Bars. Thick, rusted iron bars.
“Who are you?” you demand, the man sat on the other side, hidden by the shadows. You see him lean against the wall, his clothes covered in grime, his boots caked with mud. His face is not visible behind the layers of darkness.
A low chuckle echoes in the room, “Not important,” he says, fingers tapping on his leg, “What matters is who you are.”
You scramble to stand up, immediately noticing the room shifting from side to side as you lose your footing.
Ship. You were on a ship. Which only means-
“I demand to be let go at once!” you yell, grabbing at the bars, all your loathing and clawing desperation directed at your captor.
But yet again, he laughs.
“You’re aint in a position to bark orders lass.” he says and you watch him like a hawk as he steps into the light.
You didn’t know what you expected from the assumed pirate that had captured you for no apparent reason, but a boy, barely older than you, donning a smirk, wasn’t it.
He was taller than you, he probably was taller than most people, strands of white hair falling over the red head scarf he had tied around his forehead, the rest of his hair hidden by a hat. His green eyes looking down at you in derogation.
You knew you couldn’t fight him, you didn't know how. And you definitely couldn’t outrun him, not when you’re behind bars. So all is left bargaining.
“What is it that you want? Gold? A pardon? I can arrange that for you!” you rush to get out before he can harm you.
“It ain’t gold I seek lass.” he steps closer, his face clearer now, green eyes contrasting the filth on his skin, “I need something else entirely…” he says, and you feel the back of his fingers against your cheek.
Your stomach turns at the sensation and the smile on his face, disgusted at what might happen to you. Before you know it, you open your mouth and bite down at his hand, dirt filling your mouth.
Jason yelps, pulling his hand away, his gaze hardened as he looks down at you,
“Wench!” he calls out and then starts laughing maniacally.
He couldn’t wrap his head around what just happened. You, dainty, aristocratic, talking with manners he had forgotten existed, bit his hand. He stared at you, eyes wide with surprise, as you seemingly mastered all your courage to look at him, a scowl decorating your face.
Funny.
“You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” he said, smirking.
His reaction only fills you with more rage, “Release me! Or I will see that you and your entire crew swing from the gallows!” you yell, shaking the bars that confided you. But it only seemed to encourage him.
“Ballsy!” he says, “I like that in a woman.” he smiles at you, but only gets back a disgusted look on your part.
If Jason said he didn’t find this amusing he’d be lying.
He steps closer, hands raised with the intention of leaning against the bars, but you don’t seem to notice that, recoiling at the proximity.
“Don't touch me, pirate!” you exclaim.
This got tiring too soon for his liking. A shame if you'd ask him, he hadn't had a good laugh in a while.
He rolls his eyes, arm sticking through the bars, grabbing your jaw before you can even react.
“I’ll make you a deal, savvy?” he spits, dragging your head closer, “You’ll tell me how to break the curse, I’ll make sure you get fed tonight.”
You stare straight into his eyes, gulping down the fear that seemed to cloud your head, like the mist clouded the port in the early hours of the morning. But you don’t let it show, glaring at him, keeping eye contact.
“Tongue not feeling loose yet?” he asks, expecting you to fold.
But you don’t. Instead, he feels the warm stick of your spit on his cheek, slowly trickling down.
Jason turns his head away, trying with every fiber of his being to keep his composure. To not break the door of the cell and beat you to an inch of your life. Instead, he raises his free hand wiping his face.
You hear him chuckle as he lets go of your head aggressively, making you lose balance for a moment.
He stays still. You see him take a deep breath and turn around, heading towards the door.
You feel like crying at the sight, more than ready to allow yourself to break down finally. But then he stops and your breath is caught up to your throat again.
“Let’s see how feisty you are when pride is all you’ve got left, milady.” he says, and before you know it, he’s out of the door.
You huff, falling as your knees give out. Your head is still spinning by the pirate's taunts.
You would have never thought that your life you would dissolve into this. Stuck, trapped, in a cage of a pirate ship.
You let out a shaky breath, staring at the door, waiting, dreading, of someone coming in. You try to get it under control. But every breath becomes shakier than the last, and the weight in your chest only seems to be getting heavier.
You slowly reach up, your hand trembling as you search through your hair, gaze locked on the door. You breathe out in relief when you grab one of the countless pins your maids had used to keep the strands in place, making sure your head looked more like a painting than hair.
You pull it out in a rush, immediately pulling it apart, fingers working quick.
He couldn’t keep you in here. You wouldn’t allow it.
You kneel before the lock, the wood creaking beneath your knees, breath held tight in your chest.
You have to work fast. It’ll be dark soon.
Every time the ship rocked, you found yourself trying to keep the pin from falling out your hand. Trying to keep your composure despite all the failed attempts to pick the lock.
The smell of saltwater and mold clings to your lungs, much like the corset on your undergarments.
“Blasted thing!” you curse under your breath, grabbing the pin again, jamming it into the lock.
Picking locks isn’t a skill you possess, and if you were being honest, it wasn’t a skill you’d thought you’d ever have to use.
You had tried, however, to pick the lock of your fathers study more than once, wanting to be in his presence whenever you felt lonely.
But this wasn’t your fathers study. This was the brig of a pirate ship, and behind the door wasn’t his warm embrace, but criminals that would kill you without a second thought.
Your eyebrows furrow, as you slightly bite on your tongue in concentration, moving the pin carefully, trying to hear the mechanism.
And then you do. A soft click rings in your ears, your eyes widening at the sound.
Your fingers immediately start moving slower, with more intention behind them, twisting the pin in your hands carefully. One more twist and you're out.
But the floorboards above you creak. Your blood runs cold. There’s a voice.
Someone is coming.
You can clearly hear the footsteps growing nearer to you, the voice louder. Your hands are moving in panic, trying to get it to open before whoever it is opens the door.
You stare at the lock obsessively, as if it would cower under your gaze, give up and open at last.
And then you feel it. The light resistance.
You turn your head towards the door, terrified as you hear the handle move. And with a swift motion, you twist the pin, the characteristic sound of it opening overtaking your senses.
You feel the tears streaming down your face in relief as you scramble to the other side of the cell, leaving the cell door closed.
You hide your face in your skirts, as the person descends the stairs into the room.
You listen as the heavy steps move closer, their sound overpowered by the ringing of your ears.
And suddenly, it stops.
You raise your head when you feel something hitting your feet.
Before you, you see a piece of stale bread, the shadow of your captor surrounding you.
You turn your head, shocked, staring at him, as he starts heading out without saying a word.
“Thank you.” you say, grabbing it, but he only grunts before slamming the door behind him.
You sit there, slowly eating the bread he threw at you, piece by piece. By no means was it good, but your hunger overpowered whatever tastes you had grown up with and the fear of the possibility that he would try to poison you.
You sit there, ignoring the numbing pain clawing up your body, waiting for the ship to fall silent, along with its crew.
You’re sure you’ll find at least 3 people on deck, but three people is better than 50, and you need the chances to be in your favour if you are to escape this wretched ship.
You stay, still as a statue, listening closely until the footsteps cease sounding above you.
The only thing you can hear are the waves crashing against the barrel of the ship.
You tumble on your skirts, as you rush to stand up, falling on your feet as you get to the door.
Your hands immediately reach for the cell door, pulling it wide open.
You feel hot as the adrenaline rushes through your veins, sweat trickling down your face. Your eyes sting with tears you won't allow to escape.
You tiptoe up the stairs, hand trembling as your hand touches the handle, cringing at the creaking sound. Hoping, no one is standing guard.
You breathe a sigh of relief when you find the corridor empty.
The air outside the room wasn’t much different than within it, if only for the characteristic pungent of alcohol added to it. You ignore the bile that rushes up your throat, lightly stepping outside.
You walk slowly, a hand constantly brushing against the weathered wood, splinters pricking your fingers, as you try to keep balance within the shifting ship.
You pass by the hammocks the crew slept on, thankful their drunken snores muffled your hurried steps.
It only takes you a minute before you find the trap door leading to the deck, the cold air of the night kissing your face. You smile at the sight of it, reaching up to open it, more than ready to-
“What d’ye figure the Cap’n wants with ‘er?” a gritty voice above you catches your attention, as you immediately shoot to the side, scared he’ll come down and catch you.
You hold your breath, listening in, hoping they'll what you are here for.
“How in blazes should I know?” you hear a second voice answer, sounding much younger than the first, “Gold, mayhap.”
“Aye…” the first man sighs, “or maybe he’s longin’ for a woman’s touch.” he laughs, a wet rattling sound that makes your skin crawl.
You’re going to throw up, the sharp feeling of your corset digging into your ribs becomes more noticeable.
“ ‘thought the Cap’n were a molly.” the voice sounds farther away this time, shocked at the apparent intentions of his captain.
“Shut yer gob! He’s wedded to the sea, he is.” you hear the younger one curse as he stumbles, after being slapped probably.
You wonder if they’ll fight.
You hoped they would. Maybe then they’d be too distracted to notice you fleeing.
“Aye, that’s what they say.” the voice fades, your breath still stuck in your throat, scared that even the slightest sound will make them come back.
You can hear the chatter in the distance still, but it's too far to decipher what they’re talking about.
Taking a deep breath in, you step under the trapdoor again, staring up at it. You slowly lay both your hands on it, sweat clinging on your palms as you push it lightly, smiling as you see it give away to pressure.
You peek your head outside, just enough to scan your surroundings.
Clear.
You grit your teeth in anticipation as you push it further up, sliding quietly on deck.
The cold air sticks against your nerve riddled skin, relief flowing through your body.
You could finally breathe easy again.
For a moment you stare up to the night sky, letting the sound of the sea overtake your senses. You would have loved to see the stars this clear again but under different circumstances. Sit under them, draw and study them, until the sun returns to the sky, letting light touch everything within the horizon. You immediately find the North Star. Familiarity floods you. As long as it is in the sky, you'll make it out of here.
A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you up, as if it is reminding you that you weren’t safe, that you needed to leave this place.
You rush, hiding behind the nearest mast, safe from wandering eyes. You search for a boat you could escape with.
You grin widely when you catch a glimpse of it.
Without a second thought you run towards it. Your eyes dart across, looking at all the intricate knots that kept it in place. Your hands immediately reach towards them.
You don’t know how to lower it peacefully, opting for just letting it fall to the water. Then, you could jump in, climb up and row away before anyone can see you.
Your brain buzzed with the feeling of your imminent freedom.
One of the knots gives away. The boat tilts. You grin.
One more knot. One more knot and you’ll be free.
One more knot and—
You scream when someone picks you up, throwing you over their shoulder. You feel the rough fabric of his shirt against your face as you’re hauled away, the scent of salt and leather mixed with something darker.
You were so close to freedom. So close.
First thing you notice is the red head scarf, tears pooling in your eyes at the realization of who had caught you.
“Let me go!” you start squirming immediately and he tightens his hold on you. You hit and punch his back, as digs his fingers in your flesh in annoyance.
“You think you’re real smart don’t ya?” he says, as you continue screaming and kicking your feet.
You can barely hear the laughing of whatever crew is awake in the background as he brings you to a room you can't recognise.
“Why me?” you yell at him, your fists hitting his back, “What is it you want?” you yelp as he throws you.
You expect the pain that follows being thrown to the floor like a sandbag, but it never comes. You open your eyes slightly, seeing that you have been thrown on a bed, and instead of a cell you see a polished room.
“You really have no clue-” he laughs.
You watch him rush to the middle of the room where a desk is laid, as he throws the things on it around in search of something.
Your eyes immediately dart around, in search for the door, vision blurry with tears.
From the corner of your eye, you see him stomping towards you, dread filling you at the sight of a knife in his hand. “What are you-” You immediately scoot backwards, trying to put as much distance as possible between you.
“Wh- What is happening?” you ask as you see him pulling up his sleeve.
You start yelling and writhing when he reaches for your arm. But you weren’t quick enough to pull away, his rough and calloused hands grabbing your wrist.
You bite your lip, refusing to let the tears of pain fall, but your whole body trembles with the force of it. Every inch of your skin burns where the blade touches, and the noise of the knife cutting through flesh feels like a jagged echo in your head.
He is precise as he cuts through your warm flesh, throwing the knife away once he’s done.
“Look.” he says, noticing your head tilted away from the injury he inflicted on you, “Look!” he screams this time, shaking you.
You tentatively turn your gaze on it, your whole body trembling. Your pained expression is quickly replaced by a shocked one.
The cut on your arm had slowly started to close, the blood ceasing to flow. The skin knitting itself closed before your eyes.
You raise your gaze to look at the man before you, but he isn’t looking at you.
The pained expression on his face is directed at his own arm. Teeth visibly gritting, jaw clenched.
You slowly look at his hand this time, restlessness cursing through you at the sight.
At the same place where he had cut your arm, blood flowed on his. Skin ripping apart, flesh slashed open.
The surrounding area turned that rotten shade of black, a putrid scent filling your nostrils.
Where your own wound closed up, a whole new appeared on him, the knife nowhere in sight.
“This is what you have to do with this!” he says, throwing your hand away, groaning, like it pained him to even stand, “It’s between your life and mine, sweetheart,” he glares at you and you feel shivers rising up your spine at his words, eyes never leaving his. “And I choose mine.”
You spend the better part of the night sitting by the bed, staring at your feet, wondering how long it would take for someone to find you if you just jumped off deck. Maybe you should wait for another ship to appear before you do so. At least then you’ll have a vague idea of how much time it'll take for you to swim close enough to be seen and rescued.
But what if that’s days from now? What if a worse fate awaits you there. The situation at hand isn’t a good one by any means, but at least no one has tried to take advantage of you.
Yet.
You close your eyes letting your head hit the wooden wall of the cabin.
“This is what you have to do with this!” he says, throwing your hand away.
You open them as quickly as you had closed them, the memory of his hand spontaneously bleeding crossing your mind every time you did so.
You let a breath leave your lungs looking around the cabin trying to occupy yourself with anything else.
There were books on the table in front of you. Lots of them. And you could see some photographs stuck on the gaps. You turn your head up, a chandelier with little shells hanging from it. You look down, your dress. You reach and pick up the hem. You run your fingers over the black and brown spots, spoiling the light blue fabric. Any other day, you'd be annoyed at the state of it. You’d drop whatever you were doing and immediately go change. But today? Today you just stared at it unbothered.
No use crying over spilt milk.
You let the hem back on the floor, redirecting your gaze at the porthole, looking through it. Not that there was much to see. The North star was still shining bright and unchanged.
You don't know how many hours have passed since you got locked in the cabin, but by the darkness outside it mustn't have been nearly as long as it felt. The thought of it is comforting in a way. There's still a chance this is all a bad dream and that you’ll wake up soon.
You startle awake from your position on the floor at the loud bang that echoes through the cabin as the door slams open.
You snap your eyes at the sound, watching as the man you had learned was the captain walks in.
He looks… different under the morning sun. Younger. Softer almost.
Whatever you noticed as he walked in, immediately disappeared as he laid eyes on you, his features hardening, posture straightened in a way you’re all too familiar with.
His boots echoed, despite the room being filled with all kinds of things from top to bottom.
He crosses the room standing right in front of you as he extends his hand. Only then you notice the plate he was holding.
“Eat.” he says, averting his gaze from you. Your eyes dart between him and the plate before you scoff.
“You’re mad if you think I’m touching that.” you turn your head away from his offering.
You feel him tense up, annoyance radiating off of him, “Too rough for that silver-plated tongue of yours?” he spits out. Heat crawled up your neck.
“No, I simply have no desire to blacken it with poison.”
“If I wanted to kill ya, I would have done so already, lass.”
You roll your eyes, turning to look at him, eyes hard trained on him, “Why have you not done so?”
He opens his mouth but the answer dies on his tongue. His jaw clenches as he turns around. “That is of no concern to you.” he says as he throws the plate on the table and storms out of the room, the familiar jingle of keys following the shut door.
You fall back as the sound of silence envelopes you.
You feel the corner of your lip twitch upwards as you try to suppress a smile.
Seems like you’ve won this time. Pity you're still locked in there.
The satisfaction doesn't last for long as you remember the fact. You're still being held captive in the middle of the sea after all. Any positive emotion dims in comparison to the situation in hand.
The fact that the captain seems to have some paranormal score to settle with you doesn't help either. What's that about anyway?
It can't be true, that much you know. You've never seen this man before and you've never been out of town. He’s just a heathen after the gold your father will be paying to get you back.
Yeah. That sounds about right.
As for what you saw, or think you saw, it was simply your mind playing tricks on you. You have been abducted after all, and you have been scared and anxious. Yeah. It was a trick of your mind. Or the light. Or anything really. What matters is that it wasn’t real.
Regardless of tricks and magic you're still stuck on this stupid ship, sitting on the stupid bed.
That won't do. You jump off the bed, immediately losing your footing as you struggle to stand up. You haven’t been on board a ship ever. And you’ll never set afoot off land if you’ll have anything to do with it.
You hold onto the desk as you look around for anything that could possibly help you. It was a mess. Not surprising, though it made your search significantly harder. A feather was left next to a small glass bottle of ink, small black blots decorating the map it laid upon.
You take a closer look at the map. It looked a lot like maps you've seen hanging in your fathers office. Only this one was a mess. The noon observation of what you assume was yesterday's measurement is wrong. You scoff, aren't pirates supposed to be good at navigating living in a ship and all?
You look further down, a small inscription is written in the corner. It is in what seems to be Arabic. You exhale annoyed at this, your head cocking at the side. You had always thought learning the language would prove handy. Your governess disagreed.
You move past this quickly. You raise your head, eyes skipping over the plate that was filled with what looked like porridge, instead they land on gold.
Books.
Relief floods through you as you scramble to get closer. If anything could help you out of this, it would be those.
The books were typical. Collections of maps. Astronomy. Atlas Maritimus. History. Spencer. Shakespear. Navigation.
Shakespear? Interesting. You lean closer, straining your eyes. Much Ado About Nothing.
An amused breath escapes you picking up the copy, flipping through it. Your eye catches something as you do so. Ink seems to decorate some of the pages. You stop at the next one you notice.
A laugh escapes you as you read the line he had underlined. “I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?”
You blink. Surely not. You quickly turn the page.
“I love you with so much of my heart, none is left to protest.” you read, “Well, I’ll be damned!” you exclaim, a smile threatening to break out on your face.
You stare at it. The man who surely had killed people before annotated Shakespeare.
You close the book, your cheeks tingling upwards at this newfound information.
You look back at the porridge he had left you, the thought of eating momentarily crossing your mind before you look away again. You won't be falling for such cheap tricks.
Your stomach, however, would. A whine escapes your lips as you look at the plate from the corner of your eye, stomach growling.
…It’s just porridge. How could he possibly have tampered with porridge?
You shake your head not willing to spend time or energy thinking of all the different ways one could. Instead you decide that possibly poisoned food is better than no food at all and sit down, reaching for the plate. Besides, he seems to think that he needs you. He wouldn’t poison you. You think.
Despite that you take a spoonful into your mouth and immediately regret it, your stomach tightening. Why does it taste like fish?
You can feel your stomach churning for all the wrong reasons this time. You go to stand up, find something to spit it out before your body decides the same. But you don't manage to.
The door slams open and you accidentally swallow the atrocity insulting your taste buds, hand flying to your mouth in disgust.
The captain stills at the door at the sight of you sitting behind his desk, his eyes traveling from you to the plate.
“You’re eating.” he notes, his eyebrows shifting before he catches his expression.
You lower your head before he catches the horror written all over your face, “I am.” you say, the words catching at your throat, the taste not subsiding one bit. His gaze lingers for a moment before his usual demeanor shifts back into place.
You look at him through your eyelashes as he closes the door behind him, “Here I thought I was trying to poison you” he says with a smirk dangling from his lips.
You clear your throat. “You said it yourself.” you move the porridge around, trying to control your face. “If that were your intent, you would have done it by now” he hums in acknowledgement leaning on the wall. “Or you’re just doing a remarkably poor job at it.”
His eyes crinkle lightly as his cheekbones rise. A small smile appears slowly and this time he doesn’t hide it.
Wonderful. You felt like the porridge is going to take you out and he found something amusing. He either deliberately messed with the food or the salt from years at sea had finally gotten into his brain and thought this was a proper meal. You don’t know which is worse.
The captain draws closer to you, looking at the map you dug out the mess he had left, “Ya wanna tell me why yer at my desk lassie?” he asks, any sort of amusement he might have felt long gone. You look up at him from your seat, an eyebrow raising up.
“Your map is mistaken.” you say refusing to let yourself be intimidated. Especially now that you know how he spends his free time.
“It ain’t”
“It is.”
“And ya know that, how?” he scoffs, a hand placed on the desk, as he leans over you. You can see it in his eyes clear as day that he doesn't trust you. Why would he afterall? You may as well be trying to derail his course and whatever plan he had.
But you were not. The map was wrong.
“Because your navigator seems to think that we are twenty-eight degrees north.”
“And?”
“And we are not.” you sit up straighter, pushing the plate as far away from you as possible.
“And how can ya tell?”
“Polaris.”
“What about it?” He stands straight again, crossing his arms, looking down at you.
“It’s too south.” you bite back. You are not going to give him the satisfaction of backing down, however foolish that was. If you'd let him live in obliviousness, you might have escaped easier. But it's too late now.
You hear him smack his teeth. looking at the ceiling, “Get up.” he says, grabbing the map.
It was your turn to scoff and cross your arms over your chest, "You're mad if you think- Let go of me!” you exclaim when he grabs your wrist, yanking it away. But he's quicker grabbing at your arm.
Your breath catches as he brings you close enough to his face for you to see the glint of madness in his eyes.
“Listen lass, I ain't got time for games.” he spits out, “Ya either come with or I drag you, your choice.” he says. Your eyes widen as something flashes behind his eyes for the briefest moment before it disappears as it had never been there. You blink in disbelief.
You gulp down the fear that was stricken into you, “I’ll walk.” you say simply and he lets go of you.
“Smart.” He turns around and heads towards the door with long strides. You follow behind him, holding your arm where he had grabbed you in pain. You looked up at his back as he towered over you even from a distance. What the hell was that?
The salt in the air is the first thing you notice the moment you set foot on deck. You inhale in relief, the stuffy room you had been locked into seemed claustrophobic after having been in fresh air.
You raise your hand over your eyes, ignoring the stares you've been getting from his crew as you tailed after their captain.
“Flynt!” he calls out as he climbs up the stairs to the wheel.
“Aye Capt’n!” you strain your eyes against the sun looking at the man that had answered. He looked sickly to say the least. His hair was thinning, and he was littered from head to toes with open wounds. You have heard about this affliction before. You take a step back not recalling whether or not it's contagious.
“The lass says we're at the wrong place.”
The man, Flynt, turns and looks at you standing behind the captain in contempt, “We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.” he spits out still not taking his eyes off of you. Shivers rise on your back at this.
The captain looks down at you before you speak up, “We’re too far south.” you stand straighter.
“And how do ya know?”
“Polaris.” you answer him despite the toothless smirk he throws your way. You feel the porridge inkling to come out. At this point you’ve gathered an audience.
“And ya think you know better?” he cackles, the rest of the crew following him. You cringe at the cacophony, stepping forwards, standing right next to the captain that hadn't said a word still, holding out your hand.
“May I borrow your quadrant?” you ask. You might have been held hostage on a pirate ship and dirtier than the stable boys back at your estate had ever been, but you're still a woman of your standing and you won't let a bunch of no-good heathens change that.
He scoffed, throwing the tool at you dismissively. You manage to catch it before it falls to the ground and breaks into pieces. You clear your throat as you bring it close to your eye and point it to the sky, carefully using it.
“Thirty-one degrees.” you say offering it to the man gently, but he grabs at it and looks at your measurement dismissively.
He grumbles something you couldn't quite understand as he copies your movements. After a moment he brings it down and looks at the measurement, his shoulders slumping.
“Thirty-one…” he grumbles, throwing an annoyed glance at you, not daring to say another word. The rest of the crew follows his silence.
You look up at the captain who seemed more annoyed than mad, “Correct it.” he says shoving the map into the man's hands before storming off.
You follow behind him trying to escape the unwanted stares.
“Back to your posts!” you jump as he yells and everyone scrambles off.
The silence that follows the both of you on the way back to the cabin was deafening. He opens the door for you to enter the room first and out of habit you do so, "That's not a very bright crew you’ve gathered.” you say against your better judgement.
“Shut your mouth and eat your fish porridge.” he says and slams the door shut the moment you are inside, locking you into the cabin once more.
You stare at the door eyes wide. So he did give you that porridge on purpose.
You stomp around the cabin annoyed. You thought that after helping him he might have let you out of this suffocating cabin. Instead he just locked you in once again. He might as well have let you rot at this point.
The rest of the day you had managed to entertain yourself. You snooped through his stuff, which is not very ladylike, but he's a pirate so does it really matter?. You read some of his books. You analysed maps. Then you started staring out the porthole, looking at the sky, looking at the sea, then looking at the sky again.
That was during the day. But now? The sun had set a while ago and the oil had run out, leaving you surrounded by darkness.
You were starting to contemplate if death is a good solution to boredom.
It could be. Then you’d be off this stupid ship and you would have pissed off the captain. Two birds with one stone.
Your thoughts are halted by the sound of the door opening. You still at the sound.
Finally he’s back. He might have taken pity on you and brought some oil with him.
You turn quickly towards the door expecting to see his tall frame, “Don’t you know its improp-” but instead you’re met with a far lankier figure. One you recognise from earlier that day, on the deck. Flynt.
“What happened lass?” he spits as he draws closer, “Cats got your tongue?”
You take a step back as he moves, hands searching for anything that could be helpful, but you find nothing.
“Get away from me!” you exclaim looking towards him, straining your eyes to see. But the room is dark and the moon shine doesn’t do much to help you out. One thing is clear however. The knife he seems to be holding. “I’ll scream!”
He cackles at your words, the disgusting sound reverberating through your skull, “Don’t worry, you’ll be doing that pretty soon sweetheart.” you feel like throwing up.
Your back hits the wall soon after. Having left nowhere to go, you stare at him, hands trembling.
“What?” he asks, now so close to you that you can feel the heat emitting from his body in waves, “You were pretty mouthy earlier, what happened?”
You take in a ragged breath when you feel the point of the knife pressing on your chest, “You’re scared?” he says, dragging it lower, as you try your best to not let the tears fall.
“You should be.” you feel your skirts being dragged up, and soon enough the cold metal is pressed against your thigh.
You ball your hands up as you choke back a sob, feeling the warm blood trickle down your leg.
“Still not talking?” he taunts you as you turn your head away from him, “It’s alright.” he laughs and pulls the knife away from your leg, “I’ll make you talk.”
You close your eyes awaiting for the impact. But nothing comes.
Instead you hear heavy footsteps and something being dragged against the floor.
Your eyes shoot open watching as the captain dragged the navigator out of the room.
Suddenly you feel the air return into your lungs. You fall on your knees, a hand clasping at your chest as you struggle to control your breathing.
He wanted to kill you. He would have killed you.
You almost died. You almost died. You almost died. You almost die-
“I said she’s not to be touched!” the booming voice of the captain pulls you out of your stupor. You snap your head towards the door.
You raise your arm grabbing at the nearest point, forcing yourself up, bracing yourself for the pain to shoot up from your leg.
But nothing comes. With shaking hands you pull the skirts up, fingers tracing where he had maimed you. Smooth. Not even a scar. No…
Your eyes widen in realisation, an involuntary gasp escaping your lips.
You rush outside the room and onto the deck staring at the two men. The captain and Flynt seemed to be fighting.
And surely enough, the captain seemed to have a limp.
You feel your throat swell up. He was telling the truth.
You yelp as you see the smaller man lunge towards the captain. His eyes immediately snap towards you as he hears the sound.
Next thing you see, the navigator is pushing the knife he had threatened you with into the captain's abdomen. His maniacal laughter following the attack.
Jason turned his attention back at him, looking between the crewmate and the knife, eyes hardening.
Without saying a word, he lifts his sword up and cuts the navigator's neck open.
You stared in shock as he stopped laughing, taking several steps back, a hand raising to hold his neck.
Flynt chokes as blood splutters from his mouth. He is looking at the captain, his captain, as the younger man swings his sword, slicing through his abdomen, whilst holding his own wound.
They both fall on their knees, blood pooling around them. Only one of them is groaning and the other one falls to the front and soon enough stops moving.
You watch in horror, nauseated by the scene you lean over emptying your stomach's contents on the deck.
You cough at the acidic taste as you raise your head, eyes immediately landing on the captain, who is breathing heavily looking at the night sky.
And then it hit you. He saved you. He saved you. And now he looks like he’s on death's door.
“Why would you do this!” you scramble over him, fully disregarding the newly dead body laying between you two.
“Dont ‘ya remember lass? I need you.” he says as your eyes searched frantically over him, trying to assess the damage done.
“And that's more important than your life?” you ask as he lifts his torso, trying to get up, “Don’t move!” you say but he pays you no mind. You huff as you push your hair out of your face, and bring your arms around him, trying to lift him. Soon enough you realise that you’ve overestimated your strength. He doesn’t seem to mind however, using you as a crutch as the two of you walk into a nearby room.
“Have you no fear of death?” you ask, sweat trickling down your temple as you help him sit on a chair.
“I woulda if I could die.” he laughs, followed by a pained cough.
You inhale in annoyance as you throw cabinets open looking for a bowl and water. “Would you stop speaking in riddles?” you ball your hands up, eyes lighting up when you find what you’ve been looking for.
“Am not.” he groans and you tread towards him, falling on your knees, “Let's be honest, no human could survive that.” Your head snaps up at him, eyebrows furrowing.
Silence falls upon you at his words. He’s right of course. Not that you’d ever tell him that. He just got stabbed. He had an open hole in his abdomen, one that was slowly closing before your eyes. He should be dead by any means.
Instead he is laughing and antagonizing you.
You give him a strained nod as you empty the water into the bowl. You don't dare speak, your mind running a million thoughts per minute.
He was telling the truth. About his… condition. Strange as it was, you’ve seen it in action twice now. It’s the unmistakable truth.
You look down at your lap as you rip a piece of your dress off, immediately dipping it in water.
“You were telling the truth.”
“Told ya.” you raised your head again. You see the captain looking down at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You looked away, focusing instead on dapping the blood that stained his skin clean.
“That shouldn’t be possible.”
“Aye,” he hissed at the contact and your hand trembled at the sound. But you were quick to regain composure and continue as you were.
“Thank you.” you mumble, not baring to hear the sound of his flesh getting stitched back together.
“For what?” he asks, looking at you still.
“For saving me.” you mumble ignoring his stare. You don’t want to know what human expression he might have right now, preferring to visualise him as the angry pirate that abducted you.
He laughs at your words, “I was saving myself lassie, don’t take it personally.” he moves around, throwing his head back. You hear him inhale as he does so. You look at the blackened tissue that paints his abdomen. You don’t want to imagine how painful this must be for him.
“Well, you still did,” you swallow, “I’ll repay you.”
“I don’t need no gold.”
“I know.” you raise your head, lips furrowed, “I’ll help you break this curse of yours.” you’re met with an expression that you could only describe as shock.
For a heartbeat, he simply stared. The smirk returned a second later, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, “You’ll regret that,”
You exhale, keeping your eyes on the blood stained cloth, “I know.”
After a very long wait, it's here! Unfortunately is was getting waaaay too long so i broke it in half
Summary: Captain John Price safes a mermaid, to his surprise she comes back to thank him.
John Price, a Captain of a pirate ship, one respected and feared across the 7 seas. His name traveled with the currents far and wide, well known around the globe.
His composed and calm demeanor was like silence before the storm. If one crossed him there was blood. He was like the ocean itself, powerful, cold and unpredictable, some rumors said he was a son of some poor man and a sea creature, since the tides always turned in his favor. Him and his crew were considered a legend by most, even a myth by some. Their adventures on the tongues of bartenders, bards and even nobelity.
He had a few man who he trusted with his life. Ghost, who hid his face from the world behind a skull mask, no one dared to ask where he got it from. Then there was Soap who despite his young looks and cheerful attitude had the experience of at least ten lads his age. Gaz on the other hand carried an expression far too serious for his years. They were all loyal dogs, standing by their Captain no matter what.
John was loyal not to kings or queens, not to any coin nor to any women, only to his crew and the seas and oceans. The Captain has been sailing since he could barely speak. He knew how to swim before he knew how to walk. This man had trusted the ocean religiously, following and respecting every rule and every lesson spoken to him by the old and wise sailors.
That’s why the anger bubbled in his chest when he saw a young gob pulling a fishing net with a mermaid. The kids had no respect did they? Trying to capture a creature as pure as this was not only a violation of the laws of nature, it could bring disaster and death upon them. He had to forbid the impressionable idiots from going to the tavern when they berthed the land. The impudent sailor boys who can only talk and have never seen the open ocean, have clearly stuffed the young heads with stupid ideas.
The moment her head surfaced her sharp screech assaulted their ears. The sailors covered their ears and yelled in pain and John approached the boy in a few steady but heavy steps, grabbing him by his collar he yelled, both in anger and in an attempt to be heard over the creatures screaming.
„Are you out of your bloody mind?!” The boy seemed to be more distressed by his captain than the mermaid, He let go of the net immediately. The creature escaped swiftly the moment she felt the ties loosen, the only thing left of her was a trail of red. Blood. Not just regular blood, but mermaid blood. It had a unique shine to it.
The men looked at the spot frozen in place, one suddenly rallied and grabbed a bucket tied to a rope and threw it over the boardside, hoping that even the little bit of blood left in the water could still hold some healing abilities.
„You do not capture a mermaid. This goes to all of you! You want us to be cursed with rotten flesh in treasure chests and bad storms. You do not hurt a mermaid! You pray she doesn’t kill you and you sail where the wind takes you. I see something like this again and I’ll throw you over the side myself.” After the Captain’s proclamation he left for his cabin, leaving everyone frozen and quite aware that this was no regular scolding, but a promise.
It took a few days for the atmosphere to get back up, as well as a few drinks at the tavern in the harbor. Restocking their essential supplies and simply revisiting the land usually took a few days. Most took in stride the opportunity to get drunk and spend money on local escorts, some just took their sweet time straightening out their legs and strolling around the town.
John stayed in the docs. He didn’t like to go far from his ship, usually doing so only if he really had to. It was the apple of his eye. He took his time to enjoy the quiet of this evening, with his cigar in his mouth and the soft barely noticeable breeze. Sun already behind the horizon, the sky painted purple to welcome the moon, which was already missing a piece. The sight made him realize it was a full moon a few days ago, his mind going back to that mermaid. It made sense, since mermaids came up to the surface from their depths to bask in the moonlight. Or so many have said. Seeing a mermaid wasn’t that rare of a sight for a sailor, but it always made an impression. To John t creature was an embodiment of the ocean itself.
His musings have been cut short by a soft sound of water splashing, it was very quiet, yet a little distracting on a windless evening like this. He assumed it was a seagull, but when he turned his head to the sound he froze in his tracks.
There was a woman. She was looking up at him, her elbows propping her up on the wooden bridge. Her chin resting in her hands. The rest of her body was out of his line of vision. Her naked torso was decorated by few jewels and shells.
The mermaid.
She was staring intensely at him, expression unreadable, but there was no hostility in her gaze at least.
It took Price a moment to compose himself, it would be an understatement to say her beauty was… overwhelming, otherworldly. Despite having just the appearance of a woman it was obvious from the moment his eyes laid on her, that she was an ethereal being. No human could possess such allure.
„It’s you,” He stated as he took the cigar out of his mouth puffing out the smoke. He kneeled down slowly to be closer to her. It didn’t startle her which made the tension in his shoulders disappear. The Captain didn’t even realize he has tensed up.
„I’m sorry for the young lad who caught you the other day. They have no manners these days,” John apologized despite his uncertainty whether she even understood him. She just kept on eyeing him curiously, her head tilting slightly. He didn’t expect an answer, he just felt content with taking in her grace. The cigar still in his hand, completely forgotten.
„You saved me,” the mermaid spoke in the most melodic voice he’s ever heard. John was lucky she wasn’t singing to him, otherwise he’d be deep below the waves.
„I couldn’t let my man hurt someone like you, it would bring bad fortune.” His tone was low like usual, but there was brightness in his eyes. For a human, his eyes looked like they belonged amongst the waves. She smiled at his words.
„Thank you.” The words moved delicately in the air like a butterfly. John hardly ever hears those words, but he never imagined he’d hear them from a mermaid. A proud creature like her showing gratitude was a blessing in itself.
She finally broke eye contact as she looked down her torso in the gap between herself and the bridge, one hand reached down while the other steadied her by the dock. He couldn’t see her tail from where he knelt, but he could remember the enchanting shine of her scales from the brief encounter a few days ago.
She stretched her arm to him clearly holding something tightly in her fist. She put it down carefully on the planked surface in the space between them. The small movement was surprisingly graceful. She took away her hand and five small perfectly round pearls were revealed to him. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, looking between the sea nymph and the pearls.
„I’ve heard they are valuable in your world.” her words were softer than the evening breeze. She graced him with one last look and a ghost of a smile. The mermaid submerged herself back into the water, her form barely breaking the water surface, the shimmering tail bidding him goodbye. The mythical creature melting away in the darkening ocean.
John knelt there for a second gathering his thoughts, as he gazed into the distance. He finally looked down to the offering and took it in his rough hand gently, almost worried that such delicate things didn't belong in his hold. There was a warmth of pride that spilled across his chest. Being given anything by a mermaid was a thing of legends.
John buried the treasure in the inside pocket of his overcoat, he’ll make good of that for sure. With a steady stride he moved back to the ship. He would maybe get some new ropes and he could get the sails patched up as well. He was sure to leave one to remember the blessing that the ocean has granted him.
He only wished he could know her name.
Part 2 >>>
Notes: Hello everyone it’s been a while, but I finally wrote something! It’s short but I’ve had the biggest mermaid obsession recently, feel free to listen to my mermaid core playlist on Spotify, link below. I’m working on another part already, so let me know if you’d like to see some more of the mermaid reader.
I had a hectic month at work as well as a minor concussion over a month ago, which was not fun lol. I have two other Price fics started and one of them is in the final stages of touching up. I hope I can post it soon! Between my work and other responsibilities, as well as hobbies I don’t have that much time to write, but I’m still very happy to post even if so rarely : )
Summary: Hyunjin is used to surviving storms, sword fights, and life at sea.None of that prepared him for a curious mermaid with too many questions, a love for stray cats, and a habit of looking at him like he’s something worth keeping.
pairing: pirate!Hyunjin x mermaid!female reader
genre: fluff and angst
tags/cw: soft fantasy, emotional intimacy, POC traits, discovery/first experiences, strangers to lovers, first kiss
word count: ~9k
masterlist | previous
You were supposed to leave before sunrise.
That had been the plan.
One night on land.
One night with Hyunjin.
Then back to the ocean before things became complicated.
Instead, pale morning light spills through the windows of Hyunjin’s cabin while you wake slowly beneath one of his blankets.
Which feels significantly more complicated.
For a few quiet seconds, you genuinely forget where you are.
The room shifts softly beneath you with the movement of the ship.
Wood creaks somewhere overhead.
Waves crash gently against the hull outside.
Human sounds. Ship sounds.
Hyunjin’s space.
Your eyes drift sleepily around the cabin afterward.
Maps scattered across the desk.
Rings tossed carelessly beside an open journal.
A sword propped near the wall.
Clothes draped over the back of a chair.
Him.
The entire room somehow feels unmistakably him.
Saltwater.
Smoke.
Cinnamon lingering faintly beneath it all now.
Your chest tightens unexpectedly.
Dangerous.
Again.
Voices echo faintly somewhere above deck before footsteps approach outside the cabin door.
Then pause. Like whoever’s outside suddenly remembered something.
A second later, the door opens carefully.
Hyunjin steps inside carrying two cups in his hands before immediately stopping short the moment he notices you awake.
Something in his expression softens instantly.
Sleepy surprise melting into something warmer.
Gentler.
“Morning,” he says quietly.
Your voice comes out softer than intended. “…Morning.”
Neither of you moves for a second afterward.
The intimacy of it settles strangely through the room.
Daylight.
Quiet.
Just the two of you.
Hyunjin recovers first, stepping farther inside before holding one of the cups toward you as you swing your legs around from under the covers.
You blink down at the drink suspiciously. “Is this another human thing?”
Hyunjin laughs softly under his breath. “Tea isn’t that threatening.”
“That’s what you said about cinnamon rolls.”
“And was I wrong?”
"Unfortunately, no."
You carefully take the cup from him afterward, your fingers brushing his briefly in the process.
Warm.
Your heartbeat immediately stumbles again.
Hyunjin notices. Of course he notices.
His eyes flick toward your face for half a second too long before he quietly looks away again.
Which honestly feels worse somehow.
“You stayed,” he says after a moment.
The words are simple.
But something quieter hides beneath them.
Hopeful.
Like he still wasn’t entirely sure you would.
You look down into the steaming cup between your hands.
“…I wanted to.”
Silence settles softly between you afterward.
Not awkward. Just Full.
Hyunjin leans lightly against the edge of the desk nearby, watching you over the rim of his own cup now with that same soft expression he’s been wearing more and more lately.
The dangerous one.
The one that keeps making your chest ache.
Somewhere above deck, loud footsteps suddenly thunder overhead followed immediately by shouting.
“CAPTAIN—”
Hyunjin closes his eyes instantly.
“Nevermind,” he mutters. “Reality found us.”
A second later, the cabin door bursts open hard enough to slam against the wall.
“Captain, Chan said if Minho throws another knife at somebody during breakfast he’s legally allowed to mutiny—”
The sailor stops abruptly.
Silence.
Your eyes meet his.
His eyes widen.
Hyunjin sighs so deeply it sounds spiritual.
“Jisung,” he says calmly, “you are currently experiencing a very important moment called knocking.”
Jisung continues staring at you in complete disbelief.
“…There’s a woman in your cabin.”
“Excellent observation.”
“A very pretty woman.”
“Jisung.”
“Wearing your shirt.”
Jisung slowly looks between the two of you again before something horrifyingly excited flashes across his face.
“Oh my god.”
“No.”
“OH MY GOD.”
Hyunjin pinches the bridge of his nose.
“You have exactly five seconds before I throw you overboard.”
“Captain has a girlfriend,” Jisung whispers dramatically to himself.
“Girlfriend?”
“Not helping,” Hyunjin says immediately.
Jisung points at him in vindication, “SEE?”
The sheer chaos of the interaction leaves you blinking in confusion while Hyunjin looks moments away from sailing directly into a hurricane voluntarily.
“Why are you like this so early in the morning?” he mutters.
“Why are you like this suddenly?” Jisung shoots back immediately. “You disappear for one night and come back with a mystery girl?”
Hyunjin visibly freezes for half a second.
Ah.
Interesting.
So this really is unusual for him.
Jisung notices the realization crossing your face and gasps loudly. “Oh, you didn’t know?”
“Jisung.”
“Captain hates everybody.”
“That is not true.”
“You threatened a man for breathing too loudly yesterday.”
“He was doing it incorrectly.”
You laugh before you can stop yourself.
Hyunjin immediately looks over at you.
And there it is again.
That softness.
Like your laughter pulls it out of him automatically now.
Jisung sees it happen in real time.
Then slowly: “…Oh, he’s gone gone.”
“Get out.”
"Violently in love....WOW!"
Hyunjin grabs the nearest object off the desk.
Jisung disappears instantly before he can throw it and the cabin door slams shut behind him.
Silence settles again afterward.
Hyunjin stares at the closed door for a long moment before dropping his head into one hand.
“I need a new crew.”
You’re still trying not to laugh, “I thought pirates were supposed to be intimidating.”
“Mine are defective.”
“Mhm.”
Hyunjin glances over at you afterward, still visibly suffering.
“For the record,” he says carefully, “I did not tell him to say any of that.”
You tilt your head slightly. “The girlfriend part or the violently in love part?”
Hyunjin nearly chokes. “You are enjoying this entirely too much.”
“Maybe.”
He points at you accusingly with his cup. “Yuna corrupted you.”
“I think your crew just likes embarrassing you.”
“My crew enjoys violence.”
“And yet somehow you’re the one threatening to throw people overboard.”
Hyunjin groans softly under his breath while you finally laugh again.
The sound fills the cabin warmly.
Easier now.
Natural.
Hyunjin watches you through it with that same helpless softness that’s becoming harder and harder for either of you to ignore.
Dangerous.
Again.
“You really stayed,” he says quietly after a moment.
The teasing fades from his voice completely this time.
Leaving something more vulnerable underneath.
Your chest tightens slightly, “You sound surprised.”
Hyunjin looks down into his cup briefly.
“I think I expected you to disappear before morning.”
The honesty in the admission catches you off guard. Because somehow you hadn’t realized he’d been worrying about that too.
“I almost did,” you admit softly.
His eyes lift back toward yours immediately. “What stopped you?”
You should probably say: curiosity, exhaustion, the cinnamon rolls, the cat.
Instead, the truth slips out before you can stop it.
“You.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Hyunjin stills completely across from you.
Like the word physically hit him somewhere important.
Your heartbeat starts stumbling almost immediately afterward.
Gods.
Why would you say that out loud?
“I just mean—” you start quickly.
“No,” Hyunjin says softly.
You stop.
His gaze doesn’t leave yours now.
Warm.
Careful.
Entirely too intense this early in the morning.
“Don’t take it back.”
Your breath catches slightly.
The room suddenly feels much smaller than before.
Hyunjin slowly sets his cup down on the desk beside him afterward without breaking eye contact once.
Then takes a small step closer.
Just one.
But your pulse reacts to it immediately anyway.
“You know,” he says quietly, “for someone who was terrified of humans yesterday…”
Another step.
“You’re getting very comfortable in a pirate captain’s cabin.”
Heat floods your chest instantly.
“That sounds criminal when you say it like that.”
Hyunjin laughs softly under his breath.
Close enough now that you can see the sleep still lingering faintly in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Probably.”
Neither of you moves after that.
But the air changes anyway.
Something quieter settling between you both now.
Heavier.
Your eyes flick downward briefly.
His mouth.
Mistake.
Huge mistake.
Because when you look back up again, Hyunjin notices immediately. Of course he does.
His expression shifts almost imperceptibly afterward.
Softer.
Hungrier.
Your heartbeat becomes genuinely unbearable.
“You’re staring,” he murmurs quietly.
“You stare at me constantly.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Hyunjin’s mouth curves slightly, “I’m better at hiding it.”
The amusement in his voice softens the tension slightly, but not enough.
Not nearly enough.
Because he’s still standing too close now.
Close enough that you can feel warmth radiating from him in the cool morning air drifting through the cabin windows.
Close enough that if either of you leaned forward—
A loud crash suddenly echoes from somewhere above deck.
Followed immediately by yelling.
“THAT WASN’T MY FAULT!”
“YOU THREW A PAN AT ME!”
Hyunjin closes his eyes slowly, “I’m going to kill them.”
You laugh before you can stop yourself.
The tension snaps apart just enough for both of you to breathe again.
Barely.
Hyunjin shakes his head softly under his breath before glancing back toward the ceiling.
“I should probably make sure the ship is still functional.”
“Seems important.”
“Unfortunately.”
He doesn’t move immediately though.
Instead his eyes drift back toward you again.
Lingering.
Like he’s trying to memorize something.
Your stomach flips painfully beneath it.
“You can stay here if you want,” he says quietly.
“In your cabin?”
“It’s safer than dealing with my crew this early.”
“You make them sound feral.”
“That’s because they are.”
You smile faintly while Hyunjin reaches past you toward the edge of the bed to grab his coat.
His fingers brush your arm in the process.
Light.
Accidental.
Still enough to make your heartbeat trip over itself again.
Dangerous.
Again.
Hyunjin pauses too.
Just for a second.
His eyes flick toward where he touched you before lifting back to your face again.
Something shifts there briefly.
Wanting.
Real enough this time that it steals the breath directly from your lungs.
The moment stretches quietly between you.
Too close.
Too warm.
Too much.
Then—
“Captain!”
Hyunjin’s entire body goes rigid, “What?” he calls back flatly.
“Minho said if you don’t come upstairs right now he’s taking over navigation out of spite!”
A beat of silence.
“He wouldn’t do that,” Hyunjin mutters.
Another voice immediately shouts from above:
“HE ABSOLUTELY WOULD!”
Hyunjin sighs like a man carrying the weight of the world.
You’re openly laughing now, “Go save your ship, captain.”
He points at you once while heading toward the door.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
Hyunjin pauses with his hand on the door afterward.
Then glances back at you one more time.
And the softness returns immediately.
Warm enough to make your chest ache beneath it.
“Don’t disappear while I’m gone,” he says quietly.
The words land somewhere deep inside you before you can stop them from settling there.
Dangerous.
Very, very dangerous.
“…I won't,” you answer softly.
Hyunjin smiles.
Small.
Real.
Then disappears upstairs, leaving the cabin strangely quieter without him in it.
The silence after Hyunjin leaves feels strangely immediate.
Like the entire cabin notices his absence with you.
The ship creaks softly beneath your feet while muffled yelling continues somewhere overhead.
Human chaos. Constant.
You smile faintly to yourself before wandering slowly around the cabin instead.
It feels different looking at it now in daylight.
Smaller somehow. More personal. Less pirate captain.
More Hyunjin.
Your fingers brush lightly across the scattered maps on his desk first.
Messy handwriting curls across the edges alongside little ink marks and unfinished calculations.
One corner of the desk holds an untidy pile of rings he apparently removes whenever he remembers they exist.
There’s also: a compass, several loose coins, a dagger, and, strangely, a tiny carved wooden dolphin.
You pick it up carefully.
The carving is worn smooth around the edges like it’s been handled often.
Oddly cute.
Your chest warms unexpectedly.
A sudden knock interrupts your thoughts.
You nearly drop the dolphin immediately.
“Uh,” a voice, you actually recognize, says carefully from outside the door, “Captain said not to bother you but unfortunately we’re all extremely curious.”
Silence.
Then another voice:
“That was the worst possible way to start this conversation.”
“I’m trying my best!”
You blink toward the door uncertainly.
The crew.
Right.
Your stomach twists nervously again.
“We brought food?” the second voice offers hopefully.
You hesitate. Then slowly move toward the door.
When you open it carefully, three men immediately straighten outside like they’d been caught doing something illegal.
One of them you recognize instantly, Jisung.
Still looking far too excited about all of this.
Beside him stands a taller man with dimples and tired eyes carrying a tray, while another leans casually against the wall beside them watching the situation unfold with visible amusement.
All three stare at you for one long second.
Then: “Oh,” the taller one says softly.
“She’s real.”
Jisung looks offended immediately.
“I told you she was real.”
“You also said Captain looked ‘tragically in love,’” the other one points out.
“Which I stand by.”
“You told the crew that?” you ask in horror.
“In my defense,” Jisung says seriously, “it was incredibly obvious.”
“Jisung,” the taller man sighs, “you cannot tell strangers that our captain is in love with them.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
Your face immediately warms.
The third sailor snorts softly from beside the wall.
“He’s definitely doomed,” he says.
“See?” Jisung points triumphantly.
You’re beginning to understand why Hyunjin sounds exhausted constantly.
The taller sailor quickly steps forward afterward before the situation can somehow get worse.
“Sorry,” he says warmly. “I’m Chan.”
He gestures toward the others. “Unfortunately, those fools are Jisung and Changbin.”
“Rude,” Jisung mutters.
Changbin shrugs. “Accurate though.”
Chan carefully offers you the tray afterward. “Jisung said you might not know where the kitchen was yet.”
You carefully take the tray from Chan with a small smile. “Thank you.”
The three of them visibly relax almost immediately afterward.
Like they’d been worried you might slam the door in their faces.
Which honestly feels a little fair.
Chan smiles warmly once you take the tray from him.
“Okay,” he says softly, visibly relieved now. “Great. She likes us.”
“Barely,” Changbin mutters.
“I heard that.”
“Good.”
Jisung, meanwhile, is still staring at you with undisguised fascination.
“So,” he says carefully, “how exactly did Captain meet someone like you?”
You hesitate instantly.
Ah.
There it is.
The dangerous question.
“Jisung,” Chan warns.
“What? I’m being normal.”
“This is you being normal?”
“Unfortunately.”
You hide a small smile behind the edge of the cup Hyunjin left for you while Changbin watches the interaction beside the wall with visible amusement.
“To be fair,” he says casually, “we’re mostly shocked Hyunjin willingly spoke to someone.”
“He talks to you.”
Changbin looks deeply offended. “Debatable.”
Chan sighs like this conversation physically pains him. “Our captain has a reputation,” he explains carefully.
“For threatening people?” you guess.
“For avoiding people,” Chan corrects.
Jisung nods immediately. “Especially attractive people who are interested in him.”
“Jisung.”
“I’m helping establish context.”
Your eyes widen slightly, “…Really?”
Changbin snorts.
“Oh, absolutely.”
“The man once ignored an entire tavern after someone flirted with him too aggressively,” Jisung adds.
“That seems dramatic.”
“He’s deeply dramatic,” Changbin says.
“I am standing right here,” Hyunjin’s voice suddenly says from the hallway.
Every single person freezes.
Hyunjin stands near the doorway holding what looks suspiciously like a broken compass while staring at his crew with exhausted disappointment.
“We were being welcoming,” Chan says immediately.
“You were interrogating her.”
“Politely.”
Hyunjin narrows his eyes slightly, “That’s somehow worse.”
Jisung brightens instantly the second Hyunjin steps past them back inside.
“Captain, did you know she already figured out you’re obsessed with her?”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Hyunjin slowly closes his eyes.
“I’m begging you,” he says calmly. “Please learn fear.”
You’re trying very hard not to laugh again.
In which you're failing badly.
Hyunjin notices immediately, of course.
His expression softens the second he looks at you.
Automatically.
Like he genuinely can’t help it anymore.
The crew notices too. All three of them. At the exact same time.
Jisung looks seconds away from exploding.
Changbin immediately turns away to hide a grin.
Chan looks like a man finally understanding something important.
“Oh,” Chan says softly.
Hyunjin points at him instantly. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Hyunjin groans under his breath while setting the broken compass onto the desk beside you.
Then his eyes flick briefly toward the half-finished tea in your hands, then the tray of food on the side table.
“You ate yet?”
The question comes out quieter than everything else.
Gentler.
Concern wrapped so naturally into it that it catches you off guard slightly.
You nod once, “Your crew just brought it.”
“Against my better judgment,” Hyunjin mutters.
“You love us,” Jisung says immediately.
“Incorrect.”
“See?” Changbin says lightly to you. “This is how he flirts.”
Hyunjin looks moments away from sailing the ship directly into the sun.
“I hate every single one of you.”
“No you don’t,” Chan says calmly.
“Some of us maybe,” Changbin offers.
“Fair.”
Jisung gasps dramatically. “Captain admitted affection. Somebody write this down.”
Hyunjin grabs the nearest throw pillow and throws it directly at his head.
Jisung barely dodges it with a loud yelp while you laugh outright now, unable to stop yourself anymore.
The cabin immediately quiets for half a second afterward.
Because every single one of them looks toward you automatically.
Ah.
Right.
Humans do that.
Your smile falters slightly beneath the sudden attention.
Hyunjin notices instantly. Of course he does.
He shifts closer almost unconsciously, stepping between you and the rest of the room just enough to break the tension.
“Alright,” he says flatly. “You’ve all officially bothered her enough.”
“We literally just got here,” Jisung complains.
“And yet I’m already tired.”
Chan sighs softly before gesturing toward the door.
“Come on. Let’s leave the captain alone with his mysterious guest.”
“Future wife,” Jisung corrects automatically.
Hyunjin looks ready to commit murder.
“Go.”
Changbin is visibly trying not to laugh while Chan physically drags Jisung backward toward the hallway.
“You can’t silence the truth!” Jisung shouts dramatically as he disappears out the door.
“Watch me.”
The cabin door finally shuts behind them.
Silence settles immediately afterward.
Real silence this time.
Hyunjin exhales deeply beside you like a man barely surviving a natural disaster.
“I’m so sorry.”
You blink up at him.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
A laugh slips out of you again before you can stop it.
Hyunjin looks over immediately at the sound.
And there it is again.
That look.
Warm enough now that you’re beginning to feel it physically every time it lands on you.
“They’re not what I expected,” you admit softly.
Hyunjin leans lightly against the edge of the desk beside you.
“That’s usually people’s first mistake.”
“No,” you murmur, glancing toward the closed door thoughtfully. “I mean… they’re kind.”
The words leave the room quieter than expected.
Something shifts subtly across Hyunjin’s expression afterward.
Like the answer matters to him more than he anticipated.
“Yeah,” he says softly after a moment.
“They are.”
You look down at the cup between your hands again.
“I thought humans would feel…” You hesitate slightly. “Scarier.”
Hyunjin goes very still beside you.
The teasing disappears from his face entirely now.
“And now?”
Your heartbeat stumbles a little at how gently he asks it.
Honest.
Careful.
Like he genuinely wants to know.
You glance back up at him slowly.
“Now I think maybe I was taught to fear the wrong things.”
Silence.
Heavy this time.
Hyunjin stares at you for one long second afterward like the words physically knocked something loose inside him.
Then quietly: “You really shouldn’t say things like that to me.”
Your breath catches slightly.
“Why?”
Hyunjin’s eyes flick toward your mouth before returning to your eyes again.
Slow enough that you notice this time.
Intentional enough that your pulse immediately loses all stability.
“Because,” he says softly, stepping just a little closer again, “I already like you more than I’m supposed to.”
The confession settles between you both heavily.
Quietly.
Like something inevitable finally being spoken out loud.
Your heartbeat becomes almost unbearable beneath it.
Hyunjin watches your expression carefully afterward.
Not teasing now. Not hiding. Just honest.
Gods.
You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you this carefully before.
Like he’s trying to understand every thought crossing your face in real time.
“Maybe,” you say softly, “I also like you more than I’m supposed to.”
Something in Hyunjin’s expression breaks a little after that.
Not painfully.
Just...Gone.
Whatever restraint he’d still been clinging to loosens visibly.
His eyes drift slowly toward your mouth again.
This time neither of you pretends not to notice.
The air between you feels warmer suddenly. Smaller.
Your pulse stumbles harder the closer he gets.
One careful step.
Then another.
Close enough now that you can feel the warmth of his skin.
Close enough that your breathing starts matching unconsciously.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs softly.
The fact that he asks nearly undoes you more than the moment itself.
Because he would.
You know he would.
Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric of his sleeve.
“I don’t want you to.”
Hyunjin exhales shakily at the words.
Then his hand lifts carefully toward your face.
Slow enough for you to pull away.
Gentle enough that your chest aches beneath it.
His knuckles brush softly against your cheek first.
Warm. Reverent almost.
Like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real.
Your eyes flutter briefly at the touch.
Dangerous.
Very, very dangerous.
Hyunjin’s thumb slides lightly along your cheekbone afterward before settling carefully beneath your chin.
Tilting your face upward just slightly.
Giving you every possible chance to change your mind.
You don’t.
His forehead rests briefly against yours first.
The moment surprisingly soft.
Intimate in a way that steals the breath directly from your lungs.
You can feel him smiling faintly when he whispers:
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Then he kisses you. Softly.
Like he’s been trying not to for days.
Warm lips brushing carefully against yours at first, almost hesitant despite everything else about him.
Your breath catches instantly.
The kiss deepens slightly the second you lean into it.
And Hyunjin makes the quietest sound against your mouth. Like that tiny bit of encouragement completely ruins him.
One hand settles carefully at your waist while the other remains against your face, holding you gently like something precious.
The tenderness of it nearly makes your chest ache.
Because you expected hunger, intensity, recklessness.
But this?
This feels devastatingly careful.
Like he’s kissing you with the same softness he’s looked at you with since the beginning.
Your fingers curl tighter into the front of his shirt instinctively, pulling yourself closer without even realizing it.
Hyunjin immediately responds. The kiss turns deeper afterward.
Slower.
Warmer.
His thumb brushes softly beneath your jaw while he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of it already.
And somewhere between one breath and the next, you realize something terrifying; You don’t want to leave anymore.
He kisses you like he’s afraid of rushing you.
Like he’s spent days wanting this and still can’t quite believe it’s happening.
The realization makes your chest ache in ways that feel far more dangerous than the kiss itself.
Your fingers remain tangled loosely in the front of his shirt while his hand stays warm against your waist, grounding you every time your thoughts start drifting too far.
The ship rocks softly beneath you both.
Waves against the hull.
Distant gulls somewhere outside.
Everything else feels impossibly far away now.
Hyunjin pulls back only slightly after a moment, just enough for the two of you to breathe.
His forehead stays resting against yours.
Eyes still half-lidded. Lips still dangerously close.
“You’re real,” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself.
Heat floods your face immediately.
“That’s a strange thing to say after kissing someone.”
A soft laugh slips from him. Warm against your mouth.
“You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, you do. Because this still feels a little unreal to you too.
A pirate captain.
A bakery.
Human laughter.
His hands on you.
Somehow your life became this.
Hyunjin studies your face quietly afterward like he’s still trying to understand how he got this lucky.
It makes your stomach twist nervously beneath his gaze.
“What?” you whisper.
His thumb brushes softly along your waist absentmindedly.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.”
You smile faintly.
Hyunjin’s expression softens immediately at the sight of it.
There it is again.
That look that keeps undoing you completely.
“You keep doing that,” you murmur quietly.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like that.”
Something quieter settles across his face afterward. More vulnerable than before.
“I can stop,” he says softly. The answer comes too quickly.
“Don’t.”
Hyunjin exhales shakily at the word. Like it affects him more than it should.
Then he kisses you again.
Slower this time. Less hesitant.
Like he’s finally letting himself enjoy it now that the line’s already been crossed.
Your hand slides upward instinctively, fingers brushing lightly through the hair at the back of his neck.
Hyunjin visibly melts beneath the touch.
The reaction immediate enough to make warmth bloom across your chest.
“Careful,” he murmurs softly against your lips.
“Why?”
His eyes lift toward yours again.
Darker now. Still soft.
But something else lingers there too.
Wanting.
“Because I’m trying very hard to behave right now.”
Your heartbeat nearly stops entirely.
The confession sends heat rushing through you instantly.
Hyunjin notices. Of course he does.
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth afterward, softer now. More affectionate than teasing.
“You’re doing that thing again,” you whisper.
“What thing?”
“Looking too pleased with yourself.”
“Can you blame me?”
Your pulse stumbles embarrassingly hard beneath the warmth in his voice.
Hyunjin’s hand slides slightly higher along your waist before stopping himself deliberately.
The restraint somehow affects you more than if he hadn’t stopped at all.
Dangerous.
Again.
“You know,” he murmurs softly, “you’re significantly less afraid of me than you were when we first met”
“Maybe you stopped being scary.”
Hyunjin laughs quietly under his breath.
“Pretty sure I was never scary.”
“You’re literally a pirate captain.”
“And yet here you are.”
His forehead nudges lightly against yours again while his thumb traces absentminded circles against your side.
Comfortable now.
Familiar.
The intimacy of it settles deeply beneath your ribs.
You’ve known him for such a short amount of time.
And somehow it already feels like this.
Like your body recognizes him before your mind can catch up.
Hyunjin watches something shift across your face then, his expression softening immediately.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
Your eyes lift toward his.
“You alright?”
The concern in his voice is so genuine it almost hurts.
You nod slowly. “I think this is just… a lot.”
Understanding flickers across his expression instantly.
“Yeah,” he admits softly. “Me too.”
That makes you smile a little.
Because somehow you hadn’t considered the possibility that Hyunjin might feel just as overwhelmed by this as you do.
He smiles back immediately.
Warm enough to make your chest ache again.
“C’mere,” he murmurs quietly afterward.
Before you can fully process the words, Hyunjin gently pulls you closer against him until your head rests naturally beneath his chin.
His arms settle loosely around you.
No tension.
No pressure.
Just holding you.
The steady sound of his heartbeat fills the quiet cabin while the ship rocks softly beneath you both.
Safe.
The realization hits unexpectedly hard.
Hyunjin presses a soft kiss against the top of your head after a moment.
“You know,” he murmurs into your hair, “this is probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You snort softly against his chest.
“That sounds dramatic.”
“I’m serious.”
“Because you kissed me?”
Hyunjin tilts his head slightly. “Because now I’m attached.”
Your heart genuinely hurts a little at the honesty in his voice.
He says things so simply sometimes.
Like they aren’t devastating at all.
Your fingers curl lightly into the fabric of his shirt.
“Good,” you whisper before you can stop yourself.
Hyunjin goes very still above you.
Then slowly tightens his arms around you just a little more.
The movement feels almost involuntary.
Like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.
Your cheek rests against his chest while the ship sways gently beneath you both, steady enough now that you barely notice the movement anymore.
Hyunjin’s heartbeat thuds slowly beneath your ear.
Calm.
Until your fingers absentmindedly trace along the fabric of his shirt.
Then suddenly, not calm at all.
A quiet laugh slips out of you before you can stop it.
Warm enough that you feel it vibrate through his chest.
“This is unfair,” he mutters.
“What is?”
“You.”
Heat creeps immediately into your face again.
Dangerous.
Again.
Hyunjin leans back slightly afterward, just enough to look down at you properly.
One hand lifts instinctively toward your face again, brushing a loose strand of hair carefully behind your ear.
The tenderness of it almost hurts.
“You know,” he says quietly, “I really did try not to do this.”
“Kiss me?”
His mouth curves softly. “Like you.”
Your breath catches slightly.
“That seems dramatic considering we officially met, what, four days ago?”
“Five.”
“You counted?”
Hyunjin looks completely unashamed.
“Obviously.”
Your heart nearly folds in on itself.
Because of course he counted. Of course he did.
Hyunjin watches your expression carefully afterward before smiling faintly to himself.
“There’s that look again.”
“What look?”
“The one where you realize you’re in trouble.”
You narrow your eyes slightly.
“I think you’re the one in trouble.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
The honesty in the answer makes you laugh softly.
Hyunjin’s gaze immediately drifts toward your mouth again at the sound.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
Your pulse reacts instantly.
The room feels warmer suddenly.
Smaller.
Hyunjin notices every single change in your expression like he’s learned how to read you already.
“Tell me if I’m moving too fast,” he says quietly.
Your chest tightens painfully beneath the words.
Because even now
even like this
he’s still careful with you.
You shake your head slowly.
“You’re not.”
Something soft breaks across his face again.
Affection.
Relief.
Maybe both.
Then his hand slides gently beneath your jaw once more before he kisses you again. Deeper this time.
Not rushed.
Just wanting.
Honest wanting.
The kind that’s been building quietly between you since the moment he first looked at you in the ocean.
Somewhere outside the cabin, the ship shifts harder beneath your feet.
The movement pulls a quiet breath from Hyunjin before he reluctantly leans back slightly.
Not far.
Still close enough that his forehead brushes yours.
“I really do have responsibilities,” he murmurs softly, sounding deeply offended by the fact.
A smile slips across your face before you can stop it.
“Tragic.”
“You’re making fun of me in my own cabin.”
“You kissed me in your own cabin. I think we’re past formalities.”
Hyunjin stares at you for half a second afterward before laughing quietly under his breath.
Warm.
Real.
Your chest aches beneath the sound.
Then another rough shift rolls through the ship beneath you both.
Different this time.
Enough to pull Hyunjin’s attention immediately toward the windows.
And just like that —
he changes.
Not completely.
The softness never fully disappears around you now.
But something sharper settles into him almost instantly.
Hyunjin steps back toward the desk automatically, eyes flicking toward the darkening horizon outside while one hand reaches absentmindedly for the compass laying nearby.
“Is something wrong?” you ask quietly.
“Weather changed faster than I expected.”
Calm. Certain.
Somehow that affects you more than it should.
Hyunjin glances back toward you afterward, expression gentling again immediately. “Stay here for me?”
The request lands strangely warmly in your chest.
You nod once, “Okay.”
His shoulders loosen slightly at the answer.
Then he’s moving toward the door, already halfway back in captain mode before he even reaches it.
You follow a few moments later anyway. Quietly.
Curiosity pulling you upstairs despite yourself.
The second you step onto the deck, wind whips sharply across your skin. The crew moves quickly around the ship: tightening ropes, adjusting sails, securing loose cargo.
No panic. Just preparation.
And at the center of all of it: Hyunjin
You learn quickly that Hyunjin becomes a different person while captaining the ship.
Softer with you.
Sharper with everyone else.
Not cruel....just certain.
The crew follows him without hesitation, and somehow that affects you more than the kissing did.
“Secure the starboard side before the rain hits,” Hyunjin calls over the wind.
Immediate movement follows.
No questioning.
No panic.
Just trust.
The ship rocks harder beneath your feet while sailors move quickly around the deck, ropes tightening overhead as dark clouds gather heavier across the horizon.
You stay near the stairs at first, uncertain where exactly you’re supposed to stand without getting in the way.
Hyunjin notices anyway. Of course he does.
His eyes find you instantly despite everything else demanding his attention.
“You should be below deck,” Hyunjin says the second he notices you standing there.
“You said stay in the cabin,” you correct.
“That was before you ignored me.”
“You noticed surprisingly fast.”
Hyunjin gives you a look. “I notice everything on this ship.”
Dangerous.
Again.
Wind catches sharply against the sails overhead while another wave knocks against the side of the ship hard enough to make you stumble slightly.
Hyunjin’s hand catches your waist immediately.
Steady.
Familiar already.
Your breath catches embarrassingly fast beneath the warmth of his grip.
Hyunjin notices that too. Of course he does.
But instead of teasing you for it, his thumb brushes lightly against your side once before he reluctantly lets go again.
Captain first.
“Careful,” he murmurs quietly.
The concern in his voice settles warmly beneath your ribs despite the cold wind.
“You make this look easy,” you admit softly.
Hyunjin glances briefly toward the crew adjusting the sails overhead before looking back at you.
“It’s not.”
Honest. Simple.
Somehow that affects you more than confidence would have.
Chan appears beside the helm a moment later, calling something toward Hyunjin about changing currents.
Hyunjin’s attention sharpens instantly.
Not colder. Just focused.
You watch him move across the deck afterward: giving orders calmly, adjusting ropes himself when needed, steadying the younger sailors when the ship shifts too hard
Everyone watches him. Listens to him. Trusts him completely.
And somehow, standing here in the middle of rough water and growing storm clouds, you finally understand why.
Hyunjin doesn’t command the ship loudly.
He commands it like someone carrying responsibility carefully.
Like everyone onboard matters to him.
The realization settles heavily in your chest.
Because somehow that feels infinitely more dangerous than a pirate captain who only cared about himself.
Rain starts properly a few minutes later.
Cold droplets scatter across the deck while the crew moves faster beneath the darkening sky overhead.
You barely notice at first. Too distracted watching Hyunjin move through the chaos like he belongs inside it.
Until suddenly, warmth settles across your shoulders.
You blink in surprise.
Hyunjin’s coat.
He’s already pulling away before you fully process it.
“You’re freezing,” he says simply.
“What about you?”
Hyunjin glances toward the storm clouds once before tightening a rope beside the mast.
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
Captain.
Again.
Your fingers tighten unconsciously around the fabric of his coat while ocean wind whips harder across the ship.
And beneath all of it, something uneasy twists low in your stomach.
The sea feels wrong.
Not rough.
Not dangerous in the normal way storms usually are.
Just....wrong.
The feeling crawls beneath your skin slowly, instinctive enough that it makes your stomach tighten before your mind can fully understand why.
Another wave crashes hard against the side of the ship.
Your eyes immediately snap toward the water.
Too dark. Too restless.
Like the ocean itself is agitated by something deeper beneath it.
The wind sharpens again. Cold enough now that it bites against your skin through the heavy rain.
Around you, the crew continues moving quickly across the deck, focused entirely on the storm building overhead.
They can only see the surface of it.
Your heartbeat stumbles unevenly.
Because whatever this feeling is, it’s underneath.
“Hey.”
Hyunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts immediately.
You look up too quickly.
His expression changes the second he sees your face.
Concern replacing focus almost instantly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you answer automatically.
Hyunjin gives you a look.
One that very clearly says,
absolutely not.
Rain drips slowly from his dark hair while he steps closer, lowering his voice despite the chaos around you both.
“You’ve been staring at the water for the last five minutes.”
Your stomach tightens slightly.
Because of course he noticed.
“I just…” You hesitate, glancing back toward the ocean again. “Something feels strange.”
Hyunjin follows your gaze automatically.
The ship rocks harder beneath your feet.
This time you barely notice.
“Strange how?”
You struggle briefly for the words.
“The ocean feels…” Your brows pull together. “Agitated.”
Hyunjin’s expression stills slightly. Not panic.
Worse.
Recognition.
“You can feel that?” he asks quietly.
Your eyes flick back toward him immediately, “You can’t?”
Another silence settles between you.
Wind screams sharply through the sails overhead.
Hyunjin studies your face carefully for a second before glancing back toward the water again.
Thinking now. Calculating.
But when he looks back at you again, the softness returns immediately beneath it all.
“Okay,” he says calmly.
Too calmly.
Your chest tightens.
“Hyunjin.”
He steps closer before you can spiral any further, one steady hand settling against your waist again despite the crew surrounding you.
Grounding.
“Hey,” he says softly over the storm. “Look at me.”
You do.
“Whatever this is,” he murmurs carefully, “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”
The promise settles heavily somewhere deep inside your chest.
Dangerous.
Again.
Except this time, it doesn’t feel dangerous because of him.
