Warnings: drunken bar fight... a bit of a jealous Will... blood and handholding
Request: “This is me absolutely begging and foaming at the mouth for you to write a Will Turner x reader. I’m fine with fluff or smut lmao. I have a couple ideas if you also want to write multiple (or blend them into 1), you totally don’t have to though. 2. Fluff about Will’s hands - It’s mentioned in Curse of The Black Pearl how Will has “Blacksmith’s hands”. Personally, I find the contrast of his rough hands and caring demeanor really adorable. Plus bar fights in Tortugan pub” @gingerdissapointment
A/N: While visiting Tortuga, you find yourself injured and in the capable hands of a shy Will Turner
Will shoved his way through the pub, attempting to be polite as others fell drunkenly around him. It was hot and stuffy and smelled of fruity wine and burning rum. It stank of salty sailors and sweaty drunkards and the cheap perfume of the ladies of the night.
Women brushed up against him and men sloshed their drink in front of him. He grimaced as an elderly man fainted and grazed his shoulder.
Gibbs was against the wall, laughing heartily as Jack made attempts to hide behind potted plants.
“What’s Jack doing?” Will yelled – the noise of the pub was overwhelming. He handed a tankard to Gibbs.
“Trying to hide from past mistresses. It’s all broken promises and hazy nights with Jack.”
Will pursed his lips and took a sip of his ale, scanning the room, “Please tell me we’ll be leaving here soon.”
“Not until Jack finds a suitable spy.” Gibbs grumbled as he gulped his drink, “But I agree, Mr. Turner. The sooner we’re out of this stinking shithole the better. I’ve got a dozen crates of rum to get on our ship.”
Will laughed, thinking how quickly that supply will drain while out at sea. He flitted his bored gaze towards the bar and choked on his ale.
“What’s (Y/N) doing here?”
The lovely and unattainable (Y/N) was the close friend – and Port Royal spy – of Jack’s. She was sweet and cordial and not at all meant to roughhouse with pirates and drunken low lives. She was raised by a commodore in Port Royal and frequently dined with the governor, which made her the perfect spy.
Now she journeyed with the Black Pearl to become acquainted with new spies working for Jack. But she could’ve done that on the ship. Why was she in the pub?
“She may live near the sea, but her tolerance of sailing is limited,” Gibbs barked, “She probably wanted to rest on dry land for a couple hours.”
“Then she should’ve stayed on the docks,” Will ground out, “She doesn’t belong in here.”
Gibbs held his hands up, his ale slipping down the tankard, “Then tell her, by all means. Or… wait a moment…” The whiskery man winked at him, “I don’t think you’ve ever said more than two words to the girl.”
Will scowled at him, but he couldn’t hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I can talk to her.”
“Seeing is believing.”
If truth be told, Will was so infatuated with the woman it seemed impossible for him to say anything coherent in her presence. But in that pub, with the scum of the earth eyeing her like a tasty piece of meat, something began to broil in his stomach.
She seemed to shrink in on herself as the bartender gave her a glass of wine. She thanked him and sipped, ignoring her surroundings like they bothered her. Like they scared her.
Will swallowed hard, the ale adding to the boiling of his stomach, igniting something dangerous in his chest. He watched (Y/N) drink and play with a tray of cheese and bread.
It wasn’t until a large man approached her that Will stirred from his place against the wall.
It was some drunken buffoon swaying on his feet. He leaned against the bar and spoke in her face. She was clearly uncomfortable, her nose wrinkling from the smell of him.
Gibbs gulped his drink, interested to see how the game would pan out. He could see the anger and anticipation building in Will. He was going to explode soon.
(Y/N) waved her hand and wished the hulking man well, but he only got closer. He nearly grabbed her face, and she stumbled out of her chair to get away. She was flushed and scared in the way she ordered the man to leave.
Instinctually Will shoved his tankard into Gibbs’ chest, storming towards the bar.
“Hey! I believe the lady asked for you to leave.”
The drunkard turned, bloodshot eyes finding Will as he slurred, “Keep your nose where it belongs. Out of my business.”
(Y/N) looked to Will with genuine fear in her pleading gaze. The glass of wine in her hand was quivering with her fear.
“Please leave before I throw you out.” Will’s voice darkened, his fists clenching.
The man laughed, “How polite. Polite like this beauty here.” And he grabbed (Y/N)’s arm, shoving her roughly by his side.
She flailed, getting pushed into the bar and breaking her wine glass against the counter.
She hissed as the glass cut her hand. The drunkard held her roughly and laughed with his yellow teeth and red cheeks. That was until Will shoved his fist deep into the man’s cheekbone.
He heard something crack as he threw another punch, the drunkard stumbling. Blood was quick to appear in the split on his cheek. It wouldn’t be surprising if a few of those tobacco stained teeth were knocked out.
(Y/N) screamed as Will threw one last fist, bruising the man’s eye. He was breathing heavy as the drunkard fell away, clutching his face.
“God, Will,” she mumbled, “Are you all right?” Her voice wavered as she approached Will.
He was panting, full of adrenaline as he attempted to uncurl his fists. (Y/N) was suddenly at his side, holding his arm with her unharmed hand.
He blinked, “(Y/N). Let me see your hand.” He tried to even his breathing as he gently held her injured arm. There was a clear cut along her palm, glass shattered everywhere.
“Mine? Look at yours.” She gave a breathy laugh, but it was strained with nerves.
“Let’s find someplace quiet,” he muttered. “Bandage that hand.” He was so gentle as he led her outside, a few fingers light as a feather on her shoulder.
They sat on a nearby porch outside a trading post. There was light from torches around them, enough to see the damage.
Will inspected her hand, ensuring that no glass was stuck in the cut. Then he found his water pouch kept on his hip while sailing. He poured some water on her hand, washing the blood away. He was trying very hard not to look at her face – he could feel her eyes on him.
She was staring at his hands. The way they worked. Those blacksmith hands.
His nails short and out of the way. The knuckles rough and worked. The palm callused and hard. They were strong and capable.
She eyed the scrapes that bloodied his knuckles. The hands that shaped metal and stoked fires. Those same hands defended her. Those same hands were holding her with such gentleness now. He was barely touching her, lightly grazing around the wound.
How could hands so strong have a presence so gentle?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He flickered his eyes to hers, “Are you all right?”
She nodded and watched him rip a piece of fabric from his undershirt. The veins on his hands stood out as he gripped the shirt.
“This is the best we can do until we find some clean cloth.” He tied it slowly around her hand, encasing it with his own, “We’ll check on it tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she said again, “For saving me, I mean.”
Will gave a soft smile, “You should’ve come in with me.”
“Oh, well I thought…” she pulled her hand out of his, “I thought you didn’t like me.”
She watched as he closed his hands without hers to occupy them.
“That’s impossible.”
She smiled, “Let’s take care of your hands now.”
There was only a second of hesitance before Will gave his hands willingly. He missed holding hers.
She borrowed his hip pouch of water and dabbed at his knuckles, savoring how warm his hold was. “Why don’t you ever talk to me?” she asked quietly, “If you do like me.”
“I just become lost for words when you’re near.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet.” She smiled, “I’ve always liked sweet.”
Will was watching her now, taking in her face as she worked, “You make my chest burn.”
“What?”
“You make my heart ache. It’s always what stops me from talking to you. I don’t… I don’t want to ruin my chances with you.”
(Y/N) bit her lip, hiding how wide her smile was, “I’d say your chances are looking pretty good.”
Will grinned in disbelief, “Really?”
She very slowly raised his bruised knuckles to her lips, kissing them better. “Just keep your hand in mine.” She reveled in the astonishment of his gaze, “And I’m yours.”
Here we begin the final pennings of the mv cast, starting off with the power trio (don't worry about them later down the line they're fiiiine)
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
•~[Captain and honorary King Sausage Mythos leads the fleet of 600 throughout the War of the Isles. He's a carefree if not occasionally passive-aggressive man who uses a friendly demeanor to let the guard down of those around him but is not one to shy away from using more aggressive means to get his way. Over the 10 years of battle with his fleet, he's grown close with and cherishes those of his fleet and especially those of his own ship. After finally putting an end to the War, there's nothing that Sausage wants more than to get home to his long awaited family and the safe comfort of his own island.]
•~[Second in command of Mythos' ship, Kuervo Fang comes off as cold and stubborn to most of the crew, even if a good few can see right through him. He's got a skewed sense of justice and loyalty that even fewer can interpret & he proves himself to be one of the deadliest fighters the crew has to offer. Over the 10 years, Kuervo has reluctantly become close with his crew & finds it unfortunate how they fall into a protective, soft spot for him. Not that he'd admit it. Supposedly, not even on his life.] 🐦⬛
•~[Will Renais serves as a determined and caring member of the fleet. Though perhaps too forgiving for his own good, Will takes pride in being a person many put their trust into. He sees beauty in life and warmth in safe understandings and does what they can to help keep the peace when able. They're perhaps Sausage's closest companion on the fleet & Kuervo's most trusted person. Will mediates between the two to keep them off of each others' throats & has become an expert at keeping their communications steady. Over the 10 years of being apart of the fleet, Will has threaded himself deeply throughout the crewmates & is highly regarded among them.]🗺
Warnings: Swarthy pirates fighting each other... Will being lied to... Will also being a sweetheart
Request: “This is me absolutely begging and foaming at the mouth for you to write a Will Turner x reader. I’m fine with fluff or smut lmao. I have a couple ideas if you also want to write multiple (or blend them into 1), you totally don’t have to though. Being Jacks sister but also constantly making berth at Port Royale when you were younger, results in a close friendship between you and a certain Mr. Will Turner. The killer is, you always told Will your brother was a merchant and that you would accompany him on his trips. In reality, you were always off doing pirate things with Jack. Consequently, the day Jack broke into Mr. Brown’s smithery, you later arrived with Will. This resulted in a 2 on 1 fight (or maybe not) with a lot of confused looks being shared between Jack and yourself. Plus Will defending your honor” @gingerdissapointment
A/N: Pretending to be a merchant, you befriend Will Turner as you keep your pirating a secret, until your brother forces you to reveal the truth
Her sword clashed terribly with the swarthy pirates of the East Atlantic, fighting over hidden treasure beneath the sandy shores of a neutral island. She kicked up the dry sand, silencing the battle cry of the enemy.
He spit and scratched at his eyes as (Y/N) jabbed the sword into his stomach, shoving him aside. Whipping around the beach, Jack pranced away from a group of opposing pirates. She rolled her eyes at his wailing.
“For the love…” she ran after her brother, realizing that with the crew winning the battle, the other pirates were running for Jack. In his hands lay the key to the gold.
She waved off Cotton’s parrot and threw a dagger at Marty, the blade sticking into the sand, to give him a chance to cut the ropes around his wrists. Ahead was Jack and a quartet of pirates splashing along the shore.
The erratic steps of their captain sent seawater cascading onto his pursuers. The noise was enough cover for (Y/N) to pull another dagger from her many pockets and throw it at the furthest pirate. It sunk into the back of the assailants neck, sending him splashing into the sandy water.
The remaining three didn’t notice the bigger splash as they continued their cries of pursuit. (Y/N) was gaining on them, searching for another object to throw at them, silently thanking her brother for his distracting, wild methods of escape.
She spotted a mound of rock creeping out of the ocean and as they neared it, she grasped a pockmarked rock from the thick, muddy sand. Grunting from the momentum, she swung her arm wide and launched the weathered stone at the next pirate. She successfully cracked the top of his skull, forcing him to fall froward into the sea and salt.
The thunk of his unconscious body alerted his crewmate, a bare chested man with sunburnt skin. He seemed momentarily confused to see a much younger girl running at him.
It was enough of a distraction that he didn’t react to the elbow she rammed into him. With the speed of her steps it was the right amount of force to throw him from his feet. She slashed her sword across his legs as she tumbled forward, hopefully keeping him incapacitated and unable to follow further.
Adrenaline coursed past the burning of her muscles as she screamed at her brother, “I swear to God you will be carrying me back to the ship after I save your pitchy drunken arse!”
She reached the last assailant, tackling him into the salty shore. Her cry of accusation spoke through Jack’s panic, making him peek behind his shoulder and then stop altogether, completely perplexed as to why all four pirates chasing him just moments before were all in the seawater.
But a second longer he realized it was his little sister rolling around with the final pirate, splashing wet sand and salty water all around them.
“Oh,” Jack gasped, winded from his erratic run, “The cursed stowaway decides to be helpful.”
“Bastard,” she growled, finally pummeling the hilt of her sword against the pirates temple. “I was never a stowaway.”
Jack made a disgusted face as the pirate’s flailing limbs stilled against the shore. “You disturb me.”
“Likewise,” she breathed heavy, rising to her feet completely soaked and flecked with sand. “Do you run like that on purpose?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” He pushed past her, extracting the old rusty key needed for the hidden treasure of the island.
She wobbled on her shaky legs, “You look like you’re running on hot coals, prancing on your tiptoes like that.”
They followed their footsteps quickly being washed away by the frothy waves. They passed over the rocky pockmarked mound and after pausing in her bickering with her brother, found something half submerged in the water.
Saltwater seeping into her boots, she crouched and extracted a massive opalescent seashell. It glimmered in a rainbow of colors with the sunlight warming the face of it. It was peach and coral and lavender and seafoam and crystal blue.
It made her chapped lips smile at finding another relic of the ocean for her best friend.
During the many adventures of Jack Sparrow and his stubborn little sister, they managed a few trips to the provenance of Port Royal. There (Y/N) had befriended a young blacksmith apprentice.
At the age of thirteen she was mastering the art of pickpocketing and stealing small objects from markets and stores. On her way to swipe a few daggers from the outside barrel, Will Turner had come out with grease stained hands and a soot covered face.
She quickly dropped the blades back in the barrel.
Will looked her up and down, a young lad of her similar age. “Can I help you?” He eyed the hand she hid behind her back.
“Just… looking for a gift,” she cleared her throat, “For my brother.”
“You want to give him a sword?” Will rubbed his dirty hands along his apprentice apron, “Is he a part of the Navy?”
She blinked a few times, “He’s a merchant. We sail to different ports to sell our goods.”
The answer seemed to put him more at ease. He believed her. “I could see where a sword might be helpful. There are less friendly types along distant shores – pirates and the like.”
She nodded slowly.
There was a pause before he continued, “I’m William Turner.” He seemed bashful to extend his grimy hand.
She gave a shy smile, weeks at sea with a motely crew and her pirate brother made her yearn for friends and company. She slowly accepted his hand, “I’m (Y/N).”
“And your surname?”
“Just (Y/N),” she smiled.
He smiled back, “It’s not proper to call a lady by her first name.”
She almost gawked – it was the most manners she’d seen in years, “I have no other name.”
“Your family name?” he asked, a little line appearing between his brows. “What of your brother?”
“We were orphaned at a young age,” she shrugged, “There was no record of our full titles.”
Will nodded solemnly, “I’m sorry.”
She looked towards the ground, “I’ll tell my brother of your smithery. Perhaps we’ll visit again.”
A desire to give her more of a reason to see him again, Will extracted a freshly polished sword from the wall. “Here, use this for your gift.”
“But I haven’t any money,” she said quietly.
“Then I’m gifting it to you,” he grinned, “I’m learning to make swords, I’ll just make another to replace this one.”
She laughed, “Thank you, Mr. Turner. I should do well to return the favor in the future.”
He passed over the hilt, “I look forward to our next meeting, Miss…” He seemed to struggle for a moment, “Miss. (Y/N).”
Five years had passed since that initial meeting and at reaching adolescence, (Y/N) was excitedly walking the streets of Port Royal to find the smithery. Over the years she had developed the habit of collecting trinkets and objects of her travels to show Will.
He still believed her to be a merchant, learning the trade from her honorable elder brother. And he found himself looking hopefully towards the white sails of the docks more than once to see her briny steps.
He longed for her visits, growing accustomed to her witty banter, wild stories, and lovely smile. And in the meantime, he practiced the art of black smithery and fashioned her intricate and deadly weapons, hoping to be of help as she sold them at the next port.
In reality (Y/N) was using these gifted weapons in her adventures pillaging islands and seeking treasure with her pirate crew.
To make herself feel somewhat better about all the lying, she sought to gift bits of all the gold and treasure she found to Will. He always got so excited to see things from beyond the shores of Port Royal.
“Mr. Turner,” she said orderly, “The coals have gone cold. What are you doing dallying about?”
Will turned from his workshop table, smile already on his clean shaven face. The summer had been kind to him, growing a couple inches and broadening his shoulders since the last time they met.
“Miss. (Y/N),” he said quietly, as if relieved she had come back at all. It was easy to imagine horrors befalling her while at sea, “You can’t imagine how good it is to see you.”
They hugged each other, (Y/N) laughing and Will grinning. He apologized for getting soot on her cheek, attempting to rub it away, “I’m so sorry.”
“Not at all,” she waved his fingers away, not wishing to have him feel how flushed the action made her.
He seemed in a similar state as a pink color flooded high on his cheekbones. “You’ve brought me more souvenirs?” he said as he spotted the bundle under her arm.
“Yes,” she said eagerly, “You’ll never believe what I found.” She went to the workshop table and laid out a roll of leathery animal skin, a few jagged shark teeth, and the opalescent seashell she found on her last adventure.
“Did you trade for some shark?” he laughed, touching the dried, scaly shark skin.
(Y/N) smiled, remembering the time she killed the reef shark while circling the coral shoreline of a tiny island. She was alone in a paddleboat and saw the opportunity to stick her sword through the predators skull.
“Yes, I’d say it was a rather lucky trade. Can’t you use this skin to make sword handles?”
He nodded, “That I can.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye, shy in how much he wanted to look. He never knew how long it would be between visits and while she was there he wanted to soak up every second.
“How long are you here?” he asked, hopefully.
(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, “Three days.”
Will sighed, nodding to himself, “Well then, we’ll just have to make the most of the next three days.” He untied his apron and made sure the furnace was cut off from heating more fuel.
“What is there to do that we haven’t already done?” she laughed, remembering days of captaining sailboats, sword fighting in the square, climbing palm trees, and catching crabs.
Will seemed undeterred by the question, “There’s plenty to do. We haven’t swum in the pools by the cove. We haven’t gone for tea in town. We haven’t ever attended the Governor’s Ball before.”
“The Governor’s Ball,” she scoffed, “Please, Will – a merchant has no place at a ball.” A pirate has no place near the highest powers of the British garrison.
“Don’t worry, I know people in town. We can find you a dress and I can teach you anything you’re worried about.” He returned to her side and took her hands, “Let me take you dancing.”
She looked at him in wonder, “You’d take me dress shopping?”
He smiled and gave a quiet nod, “I figured we’re not kids anymore, (Y/N). We could… we could go to a ball together.”
She squeezed his hands a bit tighter, “All right,” she smiled, “All right, but only if we can still go hunting for coconuts and go horseback riding through the town.”
“Whatever you want,” he grinned, “I’d go pirating just to spend another day with you.”
She froze, still with a smile on her face, “Would you really?”
He shrugged, “Maybe.”
~~~
A few years later and (Y/N) had found herself back in Port Royal and scouring the streets for her idiot brother.
After a long time coming mutiny from Barbossa, Jack was left stranded with nothing but a pistol. (Y/N) having fought and spit and destroyed half the Black Pearl to keep the mutiny from happening, she was left to the brig.
As skillful as she was, (Y/N) was out of the prison within a day, finding her way to a paddleboat and rowing for the remote island Jack was on. She was soon picked up by a real merchant boat that passed rumors of a peculiar wily man telling stories of roped sea turtles.
It led her to the nearest ports to where she learned Jack had stolen a sailboat that was headed to Port Royal.
And there she was in search of the pirate, hoping she could stop him before he did anything terribly stupid.
She spotted a curious number of redcoats marching in the streets. She tried to keep them from her mind as she nodded to some of the shopkeepers that recognized her from previous visits.
That was until she noticed a heavily scarfed man sneaking into the smithery, beads and all. She groaned, running for the shop.
“Jack,” she whispered, closing the wooden door behind her with a click of the lock. “What the devil are you doing here?”
He was hanging by the cogs of the donkey operated machine, accomplishing his goal of breaking his chained wrists apart.
“(Y/N)?” he said, “How did you find me?” He peered over his shoulder as if to see the army it must’ve taken to track him down to Port Royal.
She rolled her eyes, “After years pirating with me you still doubt my capabilities. I wasn’t about to stay on the Pearl with Barbossa and his stupid monkey.”
“I’ve found myself in a bit of a problem,” he said, brandishing the cuffs on his wrists.
“I can see that,” she cursed, hands on her hips, “You’ve got the entire British army knocking down every door.”
Speaking of which, someone was coming through the front.
“Damn,” (Y/N) whispered, feeling her brother drag her into a hiding place.
It was Will coming home, no doubt, from dropping off another well forged sword. He settled into the shop, inspecting his tools when he came upon a hat.
A pirate hat.
(Y/N) glared at her brother and bared her teeth, “You piss poor excuse for a pirate.”
Jack leapt from his hiding place, sword in hand to take back what was his. He directed the blade at Will’s chest.
“You’re the one they’re hunting,” Will said. “The pirate.”
“You seem somewhat familiar – have I threatened you before?”
(Y/N) smacked her face with a hand, scrounging for the nearest sword, which wasn’t hard considering they were in a blacksmith. She watched carefully as Will and Jack shared a few feints and parries with their swords.
She was impressed to see that Will had continued to practice his swordplay.
It wasn’t until a hurling sword stuck itself in the door that (Y/N) made her appearance.
“Will, stop!” she cried, brandishing her weapon, “Please, leave him alone.”
“(Y/N)?” he questioned, focus momentarily off his target, “When did you get to Port Royal?”
Jack had extracted his own sword, “Come along, dearest. It’s best we leave.”
Will flipped his head between the pair of them, “Excuse me?”
“I’m really sorry about this, Will.” She swallowed hard, sidestepping towards the window as Jack did the same, “But we need to go.”
“You and…?” he frowned, “The pirate?”
“My brother.”
Stunned, Will almost missed the attack coming from Jack. He swooped to the furnace and pulled out a red hot sword, blocking the incoming blow.
(Y/N) screamed, “Jack! Leave him alone!”
The pair of them struck and danced and parried around the forge – Will angrier than (Y/N) had ever seen him.
“How do you know (Y/N)?” he demanded.
Jack made a face as he blocked another blade, “How do you know (Y/N)?”
“He’s my brother, Will,” she cried, stomping her way to where she might join the swordfight. “I lied about him being a merchant.”
“A merchant,” Jack grimaced, “Could’ve done better with the lying, love.”
“(Y/N) is not a liar,” Will gained a few steps with his hard hitting blows, “She is an honest woman and a fair fighter.”
Her sword came between them, directing Will’s into the ground, “I’m sorry, Will.”
He was breathing heavy, bewildered, “But he’s a pirate.”
Jack pointed his sword in (Y/N)’s direction, exasperated, “SHE’S a pirate!”
Will gave him a scathing glare before completely disregarding his weapon and tackling Jack to the ground. They rolled around the hay and dirt as (Y/N) shouted at them.
“This is not how to handle a misunderstanding, Will! Jack, pull yourself together with what little dignity you have left. For God’s sake…” She planted herself between the brawling pair and shoved Jack to the side, keeping him from launching a counterattack.
“What is he so hellbent on protecting your name for?” Jack wheezed, using one of his many scarves to dab at his neck.
Will was boiling, “(Y/N) is an honorable woman and I won’t have you slander her name with titles like pirate. She is respectable and good and not at all capable of what you’re suggesting.” He looked towards (Y/N), “I refuse to think of the most important person to me as a criminal.”
(Y/N)’s mouth fell open, “Will…”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, mate,” Jack said, twirling his sword around, “But she’s my sister. And by association – a pirate.”
Will let his arms hang limp at his sides, staring at (Y/N)’s feet – unable to meet her eyes. “Is that true?”
“I knew I wouldn’t be welcome if I told you what I really was,” she grimaced, “I didn’t plan on us becoming friends.”
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, “All those gifts you gave me…”
“Listen, Will…” she didn’t dare take a step forward, “I know you’re mad. But I never lied about anything else. I never pretended around you. This is me, pirate or not. You know me. And this is not how I would’ve told you, but for the sake of me not getting hanged today – could you please let us go.”
Will looked deep in an inner turmoil, fists clenching as he fought over her words. Jack was still trying to yank out the sword pinning the door closed.
“I haven’t forgiven you…” he muttered, letting out a great sigh, “But there’s a path out back you can take for the docks.”
(Y/N) nodded, “Thank you.” She placed a hand on his arm while on her way out. “I’ll come find you tonight.”
He clenched his jaw, but finally looked at her, “Just come back safe.”
Her heart beat a little harder, a little warmer, “I will.”
Warnings: Hilarious sibling banter... Will be a king treating his woman like a queen 👑 swashbuckling pirate swears
Request: “This is me absolutely begging and foaming at the mouth for you to write a Will Turner x reader. I’m fine with fluff or smut lmao. I have a couple ideas if you also want to write multiple (or blend them into 1), you totally don’t have to though. 3. Being Jack Sparrow’s (sister/close relationship) and dating Will - First of all,THE C H A O S Jack constantly bugging you about being all “lovey dovey” on his ship (even if it’s not a significant amount). Jack also always complaining in general lmao. I think this is cute because Jack being over protective of you dating Will just seems so precious to me. PLEASE INCLUDE SOME FORM OF SIBLING BANTER 🙏🏻. Having accurate sibling teasing or banter is so important when writing relationships like these! Plus Sharing a hammock below deck” @gingerdissapointment
A/N: Jack has never been overjoyed at the thought of you and your boyfriend - especially when you’re kissing on his ship
The skies were a rich coastal blue between the clouds. The gulls gave their cries as they flew overhead, pestering the inhabitants below for a morsel to eat. The sea was gentle as it rocked the ship.
Rocked the ship and the first mate.
(Y/N) was clearly taking her position on the ship very seriously as she lay across the edge of the starboard side. Her hat drawn to keep the sun off her face, she looked as a cat might just before a long nap.
Until the captain, laden with beads and braided scarves, came from his quarters. The black, heavy lids of his eyes fell into a squint as he spotted his first mate. She did enjoy testing his authority.
Sucking on a gold tooth, Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered over, slamming a hand onto the weathered wood beneath her. “I say, man! Hoist the sails, pull anchor, and undock this ship before I find another to replace yer useless, sleepy arse.”
She barely flinched as he bombarded her beginnings of sleep. A heavily ringed hand lifted to tilt her hat back, shooting the captain a look. It clearly spoke of how disappointing his efforts had become in motivating her.
“Go back to your Tortugan women and let me doze.”
“For your information, missy – we’re not on Tortuga anymore.”
“And you’re telling me you haven’t kept a few pretties in your cabin?”
Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, speaking lowly, “You know Gibbs will cause a mutiny if he sees any woman on this ship but you.”
“Yes, and being unable to escape your persistent stupidity, I’d thought challenging Gibbs would make smuggling barmaids all the more fun.”
Hat back over her face, (Y/N) couldn’t see the way Jack flailed his arms in a pitiful attempt to express his frustration. “If I hadn’t promised mum…”
“If you hadn’t promised mum what?” she suddenly sat up, swinging her legs so she was facing him.
His expression was dry, “If I hadn’t promised to watch over you aboard this ship – I would push you off this instant – to hell with the plank.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she smirked.
In a flash, Jack shoved her shoulder, just enough that she was caught off balance. And the fear that flashed across her face, however short lived, made him smile. “You should be kinder to your captain.”
He went for the wheel, fishing for his compass. (Y/N) slid from her spot, stomping after him, “You really would let me fall in?”
“You can swim.”
She punched his shoulder and he winced.
“You wouldn’t last a week on the seas without me.”
It was the usual bickering between the captain and the first mate. And many of the crew had to dodge as buckets of water and empty rum bottles flew at each other. There was rarely a voice of reason between the two – Gibbs had given up after an incident with a sea turtle and a peg leg – making only one option for a mediator.
“Mr. Will Turner,” Gibbs laughed gruffly, “’Bout time you came aboard.”
Will raised his eyebrows, stepping off the boarding plank, “Are things really so severe without me here?”
A wooden chair came flying from the captain’s quarters, splintering against the wheel. A second later (Y/N) came bounding out, a small chest in her hands, and ran to hold it over the side of the ship.
Jack cried after her, flailing his arms and tripping over the broken chair along the way, “DO NOT toss that treasure overboard.”
“What does it matter? You’re a pirate – go find some more!”
“Yes, but that chest is particularly valuable to me, and I would sorely miss it’s contents. So kindly return it before I tie you to the mast and let the seagulls shit down your pretty face.”
Will coughed obnoxiously and both siblings turned to face him. “What’s so important about the chest?”
(Y/N) grinned, “Will!” She let go of the treasure chest and ran for him. Jack yelled as he dove for the chest, catching it just before it fell over the edge.
“Why must you pester your brother?” Will asked, hugging her tight and kissing her cheek, “I would rather he be reasonable when I visit – he’s not overly fond of me.”
She grabbed his face and gave him a proper kiss, “I don’t care what my brother thinks.” She kissed him hard, losing balance.
A retching could be heard from behind them, “I’d sooner battle the kraken than watch you two swabbing tongues.” Jack sauntered back to his cabin, “We’re leaving in an hour.”
“He’s just jealous the longest he’s ever had a partner was overnight.”
Will snickered, taking her hand, “Best leave him be. I want you all to myself tonight.”
Jack poked his head out of the door, “And if I catch any lovey dovey nonsense on my ship, you can walk the plank and get your quota of kisses from the sharks!”
(Y/N) bit her lip, dragging Will by the hand and below deck.
“Did you hear me?” Jack cried almost desperately, “You keep that hand a safe distance from her!”
“I don’t care how much you fight,” Will said as they descended the stairs, “Jack loves you.”
“He’s protective, is all,” (Y/N) sighed, “I wish he showed he cared in other ways. Like letting me have first pick in a treasure hoard.”
They laughed and kissed all the way to the hammocks used for sleeping while sailing the seas. (Y/N) pushed him into one and jumped on top of him. The hammock swung from the jump, their tangled limbs fitting snug into a cocoon. (Y/N) wrapped herself around him, feeling safe and warm and vulnerable next to him.
“I want to tell you something,” Will whispered to her, running his fingers lightly down her arm.
She squirmed at the tickling, “What is it?”
“I’ve been meeting with the Port Royal banks, building a line of credit with them.”
(Y/N) became very still, her thumb trailing down his ribs, “Why do that? You already own the smithery.”
“I sold it.”
She sat up, hand against his chest, “Why do that? You’re an excellent blacksmith.”
His eyes were shining in the dim light, “I’m buying you a ship. A ship for us.”
“What?” There was a smile on her lips like she didn’t believe him, “A real ship?”
“I’m doing it the right way,” he mumbled, “It takes longer, but… We’ll have a home on the sea.”
She giggled, “A real ship? With a crew?”
“If you want.”
“And you’ll be the captain and I’ll be the first mate,” she grinned, running a hand up his neck to hold his cheek.
Will smiled fondly, “You will be captain. And I’ll be your first mate.”
(Y/N) marveled at him, getting quiet when she said, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” And he tilted his head to catch her lips, gripping her tight by the waist.
She kept ahold of his cheek, giggling as he tickled her sides. They were too preoccupied to hear a set of footsteps tromping down the stairs.
“Oh, God! Damned Davy Jones. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
(Y/N) fell into Will’s shoulder, sighing, “What does it look like we’re doing?”
“Not on my ship, missy. Not. On. My. Ship.”
“Oh, sod off,” (Y/N) yelled, “Grab your rum and go.”
“I’m going to be honest with you, mate,” Jack pointed a wavering finger, “If you don’t get your sticky paws off my sister, I’m going to chain you to a cannonball and throw you overboard for the kraken to eat.”
(Y/N) toppled out of the hammock, “Jack you’re taking it a little far. Will’s been nothing but good to me since we’ve known him. I don’t understand this vendetta you have against him.”
“He’s… well, there’s something about him.” Jack twiddled his fingers, “And I promised – I swore to mum that I’d…” He suddenly became quiet, “That I’d look after you.”
Her heart softened, “And you’ve done a pretty damn good job so far.” She knew he needed to hear it, “And I’m not asking you to stop looking after me. I’m asking that you let someone else help. Someone good and kind. And a partner for me – I’m sorry captain, but that’s not something you can give me.” She tried at a smile.
And Jack did have the slightest crack of his lips, “You were always going to outgrow me.”
Will came up behind (Y/N) and placed an arm around her shoulders. Surprisingly Jack didn’t retort, “You’re not the only one that cares about her.”
“I’m still not a fan of the lovey dovey nonsense.”
“That’s fine,” (Y/N) laughed, “We’re gonna do it anyway.”
Jack laughed too, taking a step back and making for the stairs. He snatched a bottle of rum from the stores as he said, “Put a sock on the cabin door next time. I already have enough trauma without seeing whatever you two do alone.”
And that was about as close as Jack was going to get in saying he accepted his sister dating. Will gripped her side and whispered jovially in her ear.
Request: “Will Turner + prompt: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose” Anon
A/N: On a mission to get you back, more might happen between you two than expected
It was always dancing around and never in a true waltz. It was always beating around the bush and never making a path through it. It was always stolen glances and never personal conversation.
That was the apparent fate of the happenings between a Mr. Will Turner and a Miss. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
But one thing was for a certain and that was the two were equally inseparable as they were hopeless. Captain Jack Sparrow knew of this tie and without a doubt took advantage of it.
“She’s off doing a little favor for me,” Jack muttered, sauntering down the side of his ship. His coat hanged off his shoulders, “There’s no need to worry.”
“What favor, Jack?” Will was hot on the captain’s heels. “What could she possibly be doing for you that she wouldn’t tell me?”
Jack turned and gave him a heavily lidded look.
“Us. She wouldn’t tell us,” Will stumbled. “I told her I’d get her back to Port Royal safely.”
“It’s nothing that concerns you.”
Will ground his teeth, “Like hell it doesn’t,” his hand was on the hilt of his sword.
“She’s doing favors for me, mate. I don’t see her concerning herself over your whereabouts.”
“Tell me…” and Will unsheathed his sword, positioning it at Jack’s sternum. “Before I cut you open and see if you really have a heart beating there.”
Jack eyed him, chewing his lips, “Such heroics.” He gave a yellow smile. “Your little dearest is marooned on an island just short of Tortuga. She’s keeping some bandits occupied while I search the seas for means of payment.”
“Why would these bandits accept that offer?”
“I made them believe I’d come back for her.”
“And were you?” Will stuck the point of his blade into Jack’s skin, making a little indent.
Jack seemed more apprehensive, “Um, well – yes. Yes, of course. Once I found an adequate sum of treasure to buy her back.”
“Buy her back? Are you telling me you sold her to those bandits? Why would she agree to that!”
“Oh, well, you see… our dear sweet (Y/N) knew that you were in certain danger if these bandits got back to headquarters that Captain Sparrow couldn’t settle his debt.” He held his hands up, fingers waving in the air.
Will tilted his head, “But I’m not in any danger.”
“She didn’t need to know that.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Jack nodded, “Thank you.”
“You will take me to that island now before I sabotage and burn this ship down.”
~~~
Will searched the camp from his position in the jungle. The bandit settlement was larger than he anticipated – no wonder Jack was eager to get them off his tail.
It was dark out, but the sky was clouded by the smoke of multiple bonfires. Armed men meandered while keeping watch, Will doing his best to keep count. Many were picking fights with each other, rolling on the ground like a pack of wild animals.
Then upon a makeshift watchtower did he find a figure tied to a post. Though only torchlight resided at that height, Will could barely make out the features.
“(Y/N),” he whispered.
It was quick work after that, walking under the tree line and knocking out those within his reach. The ladder creaked beneath his feet, but as he neared the top, Will took hold of a bandit ankle – successfully tripping him over the railing.
A gasp came from (Y/N) as Will rolled onto the floor.
“Will!”
He stood, checking that no one else was at the top, “How are you fairing?” His smile grew wider as hers did.
“I’ve been more comfortable.” She watched him as he pulled a dagger from his belt and cut the ropes loose.
She fell into his arms, hugging him close, “Has Jack sent you?”
“No,” Will said, peering over the edge of the railing, “I came myself.”
She appeared stunned, “By yourself? Have you seen the size of this camp? I thought Jack…”
“Yeah, about Jack,” he muttered, “Let’s agree to stop making deals with him, all right?” He held his hand out to her.
She gave a short smile, “I’ve missed you.” And she took his hand.
They scampered down a few flights of stairs, hiding behind cargo and barrels when they could. (Y/N) clung to his arm, breath hitting his neck. It made his heart beat faster.
“We just need to pass that tent and then make for the jungle.”
She nodded, intertwining their fingers in the dark. He held on tighter guiding the path forward.
A pair of watchmen came around the corner, holding torches, making Will squeeze himself to the tent. He pulled (Y/N) close until they were chest to chest. Both their breaths were quick.
It was quiet for a moment until (Y/N) whispered, “Are they gone?”
It tickled his ear. He dropped his sword with a clang.
“Who’s there?”
“Damn,” Will muttered, retrieving his weapon, “Don’t stray far.”
And in a flurry of steel he met the bandits. He dueled the pair expertly, taking the first down instantly with a jab to the abdomen. (Y/N) ran behind the tent, following their steps with horrible anxiety.
Will finally slammed the butt of his sword onto the man’s head, rendering him unconscious. The swordsman turned around, searching for what he came for.
“(Y/N)!” he whispered, “We’ve got to go before the others are alerted.”
Answering his call, (Y/N) appeared from the tent, “Let’s go then,” and she met his outstretched hand.
“You there!”
“Oh no,” (Y/N) cried, pulling on Will’s hand to urge their movement. But the only result was in pulling Will into her.
Their chests met again and this time their faces came close. Close enough that their lips brushed momentarily.
It was a charged and tense moment. A thousand pinpricks traveled down their arms. A flash of heat seared their cheeks.
Their eyes were both wide and unblinking. Will’s became deep and dark in the low lighting. (Y/N) felt her breath stick in her lungs.
An accidental brush of lips, followed by a pause. And when the charge met a climax… they were going back for another, on purpose. Full of heat and the sudden need to be closer than ever before.
(Y/N) held onto his face, Will keeping one hand around her waist. Almost instinctually he raised his sword and was met with another blade.
They pulled apart, a smile on (Y/N)’s lips. He tasted like sea salt. “Let’s wait for a more opportune moment when we’re not about to die.”
He laughed, leaning his forehead into hers, “My thoughts exactly.” And he charged forward, meeting the oncoming bandits with a newfound vigor and a laugh in his throat.
A Merchant Sailor: Pretending to be a merchant, you befriend Will Turner as you keep your pirating a secret, until your brother forces you to reveal the truth
Blacksmith’s Hands: While visiting Tortuga, you find yourself injured and in the capable hands of a shy Will Turner
Lovey Dovey: Jack has never been overjoyed at the thought of you and your boyfriend - especially when you’re kissing on his ship
Sea Salt: On a mission to get you back, more might happen between you two than expected
