A/n: I attempted to get the dialogue right, trying not to make it too modern. If it’s cringe, I’m sorry.
Warnings: Smut, reader becomes a sex slave (only to Jack), praise kink, dom!jack, sub!reader, unprotected sex, mentions of rape, 18+ only mdni
Jack understandably was not patient with people who were in debt to him. Some people think they can escape him, get out of paying. But the captain always finds them. He doesn’t even have to try most of the time!
Just like now, you found yourself on Tortuga. You had hitched a ride on a ship of filthy pirates, something you shouldn’t be used to do doing but, here you are. The island was the place to go for anyone who knew about it. Party central, full of life and, of course, rum.
Drunkenly you ran around the island holding a half empty bottle of rum, which you may or may not had stolen from a pub, when you ran into none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.
Your eyes widened looking up at the pirate who looked the same (and, honestly, handsome-as ever). The brunette was shocked too, his kohl lined eyes looking down at you in shock. Then a sly smile spread across his face, “Well, well what we have here?”
You didn’t know how to respond, it’s not like you could say ‘Wow! Nice to see ya again Captain!’ so you attempted to make a run of it. And while Jack Sparrow was always known to be quite…unstable, he was quick to grab ahold of your arm.
“Ah, lass. You’re still in debt to me.” He whispered, his accent pronounced and voice raspy.
You gulped, “What is it you want, Captain? Money? Rum?”
The pirate had a thoughtful expression, “Rum would be nice…yes…but, only a bottle of rum for saving your life?”
You sighed, remembering why you were in debt with the captain in the first place. Once you had fallen off a tall balcony into the ocean below. You did not know how to swim at the time, and almost drowned. Till Jack swooped in and rescued you.
“You’re right…you know I’m eternally grateful for that…you could’ve just had let me die.”
“Aye, but I didn’t, lass. The world would be much worse without a beauty like you gone.” You couldn’t help but blush.
“So…how is it you want me to pay?”
A smirk spread across his face.
And you found yourself upon the Black Pearl, mopping, cooking, being eye candy for the crew members. Anamaria, who was the only female on board other than you, even participated in the lustful ogling. Turns out pirates will always be pirates no matter their gender.
None of the men had raped you like you assumed. If anything, it seemed as if they were afraid to get too close to you. The only one who got in close contact with you was Jack himself.
And he always called you into his quarters at night. Something you began getting used to. The captain was a man, after all, and he most certainly took advantage of the fact he had a pretty female slave on board. The pirate was possessive, though. No other crew member was to touch you.
One particularly rainy night you made your way into his quarters. He was already spread out on the couch-one he’d somehow stolen from Governor Swann’s house-and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. Jack was handsome, no doubt that.
“Come here, lass. Let me see ya.” His deep voice and accent always made you weak. You made your way over to him and sat on his lap. His cock was pushing against his pants, threatening to be released.
The cold sensation of his rings flooded your body as he moved his hands up your skirt, kissing you passionately. The captain had always made sure his breath was up to par, he wasn’t that indecent.
Soon enough your dress was on the ground along with your undergarments, your nipples pebbling against the cold air. You jerked his cock off, stroking it slowly at a steady pace while he bit and sucked on your nipples.
Throwing your head back, you moaned. You had begun grinding your pussy on his thigh, desperate for friction.
“Come’er. Lots of better things you could do with that little cunt.” Jack rasped. You didn’t have to be told twice as you straddled him completely, his tip brushing against your clit making you hiss. Slowly, you sunk down on his fat cock, eyes rolling back in your head as you got filled by your owner captain.
“That’s it lass, so fuckin’ good.” The brunette moaned, gripping your hips as you bounced up and down on his lap. One of his hands snuck down to rub your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
“Oh fuck, captain!” You cried, feeling the coil inside you begin to tighten, tears springing in your eyes. He always managed to make you feel so good. Which was why you hadn’t necessarily complained about your predicament a week after being on the ship.
The captain’s mouth went right back to your nipples, biting and sucking on the sensitive flesh. Soon enough, you found yourself clenching around his dick, at the brink of orgasm. Just as you came, Jack pulled out just in time to finish on your lower stomach.
You leaned down to kiss him again, threading your fingers through his locs.
“Maybe next time I’ll have you wear me hat.” He said causing you to laugh.
⤷ things i DO NOT write for : anything underage, heavy smut, anything incestuous, non-con or semi-con, glamorisation of mental illnesses or self-harm and so on
⤷ thing i DO write for : anything else, really, as long as i’m comfortable and it inspires me <𝟑 .ᐟ
FANDOMS : currently writing for lotr, the hobbit, potc, troy and tadc
─── old drafts from other fandoms will probably be posted as time goes
CHARACTERS : (x reader) basically orlando bloom; legolas, will turner, paris of troy — but other characters from said fandoms are also appreciated, feel free to ask!!
SHIPS : i don’t usually write for ships but i like them so feel free to ask for one!!
be kind and patient! i’m a uni student doing this on my own free time so requests may take a little while to be answered; know i see them and am working on them if i do not tell you otherwise <3
my work ✎ᝰ.
*= smut
LORD OF THE RINGS
— legolas greenleaf
stories :
a heart for a kingdom ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Commercial alliances between Lindon and Mirkwood had always been common; and so was the dignified contempt both of their heir held towards each other. You thought of Mirkwood’s prince with a distinguished loathing regarding his arrogance and conceited personality, and he thought no different of you. It had never been a problem. But that was before there was mentions of reinforcing the bond between the two kingdoms with a strategic union. And not just any union: an heir wedding.
bloodborne ⋮ read on ao3
summary : For centuries your kind has lived hidden: unknown to the world, shrunk back in the shadows you belong in. The Great Ball is the only time you come out in the light, the only time you allow yourself to feast. Amongst moulded ceilings and cups of wine, Mirkwood’s crown prince finds an interest in you and your red velvet dresses. But Legolas doesn’t know you have teeth to bite him and an inherited bloodlust.
one shots :
the healer ⋮ read on ao3
summary : When you offer your life and your powers to the fellowship, calm and unperturbed Legolas feels his insides knot with themselves. There’s a promise at the tip of his lips and memories that rush through your fingers.
a quest for intimacy* ⋮ read on ao3
summary : A quest against a dark lord is never easy, but it seems worse when prying eyes are everywhere and you can’t seem to have a single moment of privacy. Especially when a certain hobbit keeps walking on you inconveniently, ruining your plans with the elf prince at the tip of your fingers.
wild mustang [part 1]* ; [part 2] ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Legolas could eat you whole and never be satiated. Except you are just friends and it’s never whole that he eats you, he always leaves your heart to the side.
by elvish customs ⋮ read on ao3
summary : With no regard for elvish standards, you are the only one Legolas is that affectionate with; it’s almost discourteous. Yet it seems the elf cares little for the opinion of others and you wonder where you stand with him.
meleth nîn ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Being a Ranger of the North meant you rarely had the luxury to spare yourself a bath, and it's a thought that does not sit right with Legolas.
[request] the cure to jealousy ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Two times Legolas swallows back his jealousy, and a third time he doesn’t.
[request] red wine berry kisses ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Not only the truth ferments in wine, doubts concerning your love life also do. Your birthday grows closer with each passing day, and during a drunken night with yours friends you realise something: you never had your first kiss. And you're the only one.
[request] caring is keeping ⋮ read on ao3
summary : They say caring is sharing, but to Legolas it becomes keeping upon meeting you. Keeping you from focusing solely on Aragorn and not on him; keeping Boromir from getting too much leisure with you. The feeling in his chest is wrong, yet it catches like fire and the flames are both delicious and excruciating.
death is a cold bride [on its way…]
summary : A frozen cold death is what awaits for you before Legolas finds you in the forest and brings you back to his father’s halls. Only, he can swear he’s seen you before and in your fever you think death is a beautiful elf.
you’re still the one [on its way…]
summary : In which Legolas follows you everywhere like a puppy to make sure you’re alright, until he doesn’t just once and it’s all it takes for you not to be alright anymore. Forever.
drabbles/imagines :
written in the stars ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Where you cross path so often with Legolas your relationship seems written in the stars (or in Thranduil’s matchmaker’s mind —the king can be an embarrassing father).
[request] casual* ⋮ read on ao3
summary : It's casual, right?
— thranduil greenleaf
one shots :
et in arcadia ego ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Et in Arcadia ego ; « Even in Arcadia, there I am » is a latin locution expressing that even in the blissful, pastoral haven of Arcadia death still exists.
Your people are fleeing for Dale yet the city is nothing but ruins and war prepares. When the immortal king that comes to your aid has grief in his eyes, you realise that still in Arcadia there lies death.
— aragorn, son of arathorn
one shots :
nowhere girl ⋮ read on ao3
summary : “Nowhere girls“ is a Chinese neologism coined to describe women who have no money, no job, no education, no prospects, no looks, no friends and no sophistication. When Aragorn finds you in the middle of the woods, you have nowhere to go.
— frodo baggins
drabbles :
target on a deer ⋮ read on ao3
summary : In which you cannot look at Frodo anymore without feeling like there’s a permanent red target on his forehead when he’s back to the shire. In which you try to help him but fail. Miserably.
one shots :
a white rabbit ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Can a white rabbit be scarier than a balrog?
— faramir of gondor
one shots :
failing scholars ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Invinting Faramir over to “study” but he actually brings his books over and wants to review the material.
— bagginshield
one shots :
how deep is your love? [on its way…]
summary : In the great halls of Erebor, the king under the mountain feels sick; with gold and with something else entirely. Something that knows no cure and is worth far more than all the treasures he possesses. The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN
— will turner
short stories :
lost at sea ⋮ read on ao3
summary : People dream they’re lost at sea until they really are; but when you vanish to her it’s on the trail of a blacksmith you so dearly love. Only, you don’t intend to return and Will refuses to acknowledge his aching heart. Still he comes back to you every time, lost at sea but never to him.
one shots :
a bottle in the ocean ⋮ read on ao3
summary : You are an odd thing to the captain of the Flying Dutchman, like a scratch at the roof of his mouth that would heal if only he could stop tonguing it. To his good luck, he discorvers that sharing a bottle of rum on a ship in the middle of the ocean unties tongues faster than imagined. It seals lips, too.
TROY
— paris of troy
one shots :
baker’s daughter ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Under the crushing heat that ravishes Troy, young prince Paris thinks he hallucinates you; the slip of a dress past a doorway in his mind. Yet, you sing him lullabies at night and since then he longs only for you.
night off* ⋮ read on ao3
summary : In which your work as a healer takes up most of your time and Paris just wants a night off with his wife.
tales of troy ⋮ read on ao3
summary : A greek princess is bound to marry for politics rather than for love. When war slips in the back of a mind between your kingdom and Troy, the only way to tame it is an arrangement; you cannot be this pretty for nothing, and prince Paris cannot waste his charms to flitting romance forever. Quickly, tongues untie among the court and Paris understands he’ll need more than a honey mouth to gain your trust.
THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS
— jax
one shots :
headache ⋮ read on ao3
summary : This digital headache is going to be the death of you. Or the purple bunny who keeps on annoying you.
just a scratch ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Adventures in the circus are rougher for you than for anyone else, and who patches you up every time? A purple bunny who pretends he doesn't take the job very seriously.
NARCOS
— javier peña
one shots :
dry as bourbon, fiery as gin [part 1], [part 2]* ⋮ read on ao3
summary : Javier Peña had everything and everyone he wanted, except you. You seemed incorruptible, immune to his charms. But what could you do when between desk-work days, overly sweet coffees and drug cartels stranger blood boiled in your veins at the idea of him.
Content warning: Reader is shorter than Jack, but height is not specified. Neither is gender, but Jack does call you lass once
Jack finds himself sitting next to you in a dimly lit corner of the tavern. He’d been drinking all night, while you’ve only had a couple of drinks. Your alcohol tolerance wasn’t on the same level as Jack’s, and you preferred staying sober over blacking out drunk in a chaotic place like this. A bottle of rum had just barely missed your head—if it weren’t for Jack pulling you closer to him, it would’ve hit you square on. Instead, it shattered not too far away, near the bartender, who jumped over the counter to chase down the man who’d accidentally thrown the bottle.
You’re staring over your shoulder, watching as the bartender jumps into the middle of a brawl to settle his own score with the man. Suddenly, the chaos behind you doubles, and you barely notice that Jack hasn’t let go of you. When you finally turn to look at him, you see him gulping down a bottle of rum—one you know he didn’t pay for. He’d probably stolen it the moment the bartender ran off. Taking things without permission in Tortuga wasn’t stealing, he always said, as long as the owner never found out. A smile cracks on your face as you watch him.
He slams the bottle down on the table and leans back with a satisfied groan. “Good stuff,” he mutters, cracking one eye open to look at you. Then, without warning, he pulls you even closer, his arm slung lazily around your shoulders. “You haven’t been drinkin’, love. Don’t like the rum?”
You raise an eyebrow, unfazed by his sudden closeness. “Not at all, Captain. I just prefer being sober over drunk, is all.”
“S’that so?” he mumbles, barely coherent, his words slurring together. His breath smells like rum, and his eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a glint of mischief in them as he leans in closer. “Y’know, sober’s overrated. Live a little, love. Could be… fun.” His voice drops, low and suggestive, as his fingers trace idle patterns on your arm.
You blink up at him, completely unfazed by his implications. “Fun, huh? Like the fun you’re having right now?” You flick his forehead lightly, making him jerk back in mock offense.
“Oi!” he protests, though he’s grinning. “That’s no way to treat your captain.”
“You’re not my captain right now,” you reply, smirking. “You’re just a drunk pirate trying his luck.”
Jack chuckles, the sound warm and rough, and leans in again, this time pressing his face into the crook of your shoulder. “Lucky me, then,” he murmurs, his words muffled against your skin. “Stuck with a lass who’s got no sense of adventure.”
You roll your eyes but don’t push him away. Instead, you seize the opportunity to pluck his hat off his head and place it on your own. It’s comically large on you, sliding down over your eyes, but you adjust it with a grin. “Looks better on me, don’t you think?”
Jack lifts his head just enough to squint at you, his expression a mix of amusement and indignation. “Thief,” he accuses, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Give that back, or I’ll have to take it from you.”
You lean back, holding the hat out of his reach. “Try it, Captain. I’d like to see you stand up without falling over.”
He glares at you, but his coordination is clearly shot. When he tries to lunge for the hat, he loses his balance and ends up toppling forward—right into your lap. His entire body slumps against you, his head resting heavily on your legs as he lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “You win,” he mutters, his voice muffled. “But I’m not movin’. Too comfortable.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you look down at him. Even in his drunken state, he’s still larger than life, his frame practically engulfing yours. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Aye,” he mumbles, already half-asleep. “But you love me for it.”
You don’t respond, but your fingers absentmindedly brush through his hair as the chaos of the tavern swirls around you.
Hi! Could you pleasw write a Will Turner (PotC) x (f!)reader? A fluffy one, were Will is overprotective about the reader (romantic) because he doesn't want to loose the reader.🩷
Overprotective Will Turner/Reader
🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊
The docks were unusually calm that evening, the sun lowering itself into the sea in a wash of amber and rose. Sailors hurried about their work, ropes slapped against wood, and gulls circled overhead, but Will Turner barely noticed any of it.
He was too busy watching you.
You’d only stepped a few paces away to admire the sunset from the end of the pier, but Will tracked you like he expected the ocean to reach up and steal you away the moment he blinked.
“Will,” you called over your shoulder, amused, “I’m not going to fall in.”
He frowned, tightening the grip on the cloth he’d been using to polish a blade. “The boards are damp. One wrong step and-”
“…and you’d dive in after me,” you said, smiling as you returned to him.
“That’s not the point.” He set the half polished metal aside and stepped forward, brushing off a bit of sawdust from your sleeve. “The point is that I’d rather you didn’t risk falling at all.”
You looked up at him. “You really do worry?”
His jaw tightened. “Of course I do.”
Then softer, “I always do.”
You touched his chest lightly. “Will…”
His voice was earnest, almost pleading, his brown eyes warm but filled with that familiar anxious tenderness. “I don’t ever want to see you in danger. Not even the smallest bit.”
You rose onto your toes and kissed the corner of his mouth, something that made him instantly, terribly flustered.
When you pulled back, he followed instinctively, as if afraid that an inch of distance was too much.
“Come here,” he murmured, sliding a hand around your waist. His thumb stroked your hip, gentle and calming, as though reassuring himself you were truly there. “Stay close to me.”
“You’re adorable when you’re protective, you know,” you teased.
He flushed a deep red. “I’m not I just” He exhaled. “I don’t want to lose you. Not to the sea, not to misfortune…” His fingers curled lightly against your shirt, fingers wrapped around the necklace underneath that Elizabeth Swann had given you, grounding himself. “Not to anything.”
Your heart softened. You leaned into his chest, letting his warmth wrap around you.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered.
Will closed his eyes and rested his forehead against your hair, holding you like the world might try to take you if he loosened his arms even slightly.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ll be right here. Always.”
You squeezed him back.
And for the rest of the evening, Will kept one arm around you, guiding you, protecting you, refusing to let the wind or waves get even a moment of you without him.
Warnings: S M U T, Threesome, cheating, p in v, DP, MDNI, NSFW
WC: ~2k
A/N: Watched POTC today and omg 🫦
The Caribbean moon cast a silver path across the calm waters of Tortuga as I stood on the deck of the Black Pearl, watching Captain Jack Sparrow and Will Turner argue over a map. The salty air tousled my hair, and I couldn't help but smile at their familiar bickering.
"The compass points to what you desire most, William," Jack slurred, gesturing dramatically with his bottle of rum. "Not what your precious Elizabeth desires."
Will's jaw tightened. "And what do you desire most, Jack? More rum? Another treasure you'll lose before sunrise?"
I cleared my throat, and both men turned to look at me. Jack's dark eyes glittered with mischief while Will's held that earnest intensity that always made my heart flutter.
"What I desire," I said slowly, stepping between them, "is for the two of you to stop arguing and help me with this rigging."
Jack's lips curved into a smirk. "Ah, Y/N. Always the practical one." He set his rum bottle down and moved to help me, his fingers brushing against mine as he took the rope. Will joined us on the other side, and for a moment, our hands all touched in a tangle of rope and skin.
That night, after the ship grew quiet with most of the crew asleep in their hammocks, I found myself unable to rest. The moonlight filtered through the porthole of Jack's cabin where I'd been invited to stay while we sailed toward our next adventure. I tossed and turned on the cot, the memory of those hands touching earlier refusing to leave my thoughts.
A soft knock on the door made me sit up. "Come in," I called softly.
Will entered, shirtless, his hair slightly damp from washing at the basin. He closed the door behind him, his expression uncertain. "Couldn't sleep either?"
I shook my head, patting the edge of the cot. "Too many thoughts."
He sat down, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. "About what?"
"About tomorrow," I lied, not wanting to admit the real reason for my restless state.
Will nodded, accepting this explanation. His fingers found mine in the darkness, and I marveled at how different his touch was from Jack's, gentle, steady, sure. "We'll find the treasure," he said softly. "I promise."
Before I could respond, the cabin door opened again and Jack stumbled in, more rum having clearly been consumed since I'd last seen him. He stopped short when he saw us, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"Well now," he drawled. "What have we here? A private meeting without your captain?"
Will stiffened but didn't move away. "We were just talking."
"Talking," Jack repeated, stepping closer. He smelled of rum and sea salt and something uniquely Jack. "Is that what the young people are calling it these days?" His gaze flickered between us, and I felt a thrill run through me at the predatory interest in his eyes.
"Jack," I began, but he silenced me with a finger against my lips.
"Shh, love," he murmured, his other hand coming to rest on my shoulder. "The captain is just... observing."
The air in the small cabin grew thick with tension. Will's hand tightened on mine, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he watched Jack with a mixture of wariness and something else… curiosity, perhaps? Or something deeper?
Jack's fingers traced my jawline before tilting my face toward his. "You know," he said softly, "I've always believed in sharing the treasure." His eyes flickered to Will. "What do you say, Mr. Turner? Shall we show Y/N what true pirate hospitality looks like?"
My breath caught in my throat as Will's gaze met mine in the moonlight. There was hunger there, yes, but also affection, and perhaps a bit of the recklessness that Jack was always trying to coax out of him.
"Elizabeth—" Will began, but Jack cut him off.
"Is not here," Jack pointed out reasonably. "But Y/N is." He leaned closer, his lips almost touching mine. "And so are we."
The decision was made in the space between heartbeats. I turned my face slightly, just enough to press my lips against Jack's. He tasted of rum and adventure, his kiss confident and demanding. When I pulled away, gasping for breath, Will was there to claim my mouth next, his kiss gentler but no less passionate.
Jack's hands moved to the hem of my shirt, lifting it slowly as Will's fingers worked at the ties of my breeches. I felt like a treasure being unwrapped, appreciated by two very different pirates who both wanted to claim me as their own.
"You're beautiful," Will whispered against my neck as my clothes fell away, his calloused hands tracing patterns on my skin.
"Exquisite," Jack agreed, his dark eyes drinking me in. He stepped back to admire me fully before reaching for Will's shoulder. "And you, Mr. Turner," he murmured, "have been hiding quite a lot under those respectable blacksmith clothes."
Will flushed but allowed Jack to push his own breeches down, revealing a body hardened by smithing work and sword fighting. I watched, fascinated, as Jack's hands explored Will's chest, thumbs brushing over nipples that hardened at the touch.
"You're enjoying this," Jack observed, his voice low and amused as he glanced at me. "Watching us. Watching him."
I couldn't deny it. The sight of these two men together, one so chaotic and free, the other so principled and restrained, was intoxicating.
"Touch him," Jack commanded softly, and I didn't hesitate to reach out and run my hands over Will's arms, feeling the muscles there tense and relax under my touch.
Will's eyes closed as both Jack and I explored his body, our hands learning the landscape of his skin. When Jack's fingers brushed lower, Will gasped but didn't pull away. Instead, he arched into the touch, his body betraying the desire he'd been trying to hide.
"That's it," Jack murmured approvingly. "Let go, William. Just for tonight."
The cabin grew warmer as our bodies pressed together, hands exploring, mouths tasting, breaths mingling. I lost track of who was touching whom, who was kissing whom, it became a blur of sensation and pleasure, Jack's experienced guidance steering us toward heights I'd never imagined.
When Jack finally positioned us, Will behind me and Jack in front, I thought my heart might burst from anticipation. Will's hands gripped my hips as Jack guided himself to my entrance, his eyes locking with mine.
"Ready for the adventure of a lifetime, love?" he asked, and I could only nod, too breathless to speak.
He entered slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size, and Will's lips found my neck, his whispered words of encouragement sending shivers down my spine. When Jack began to move, setting a rhythm that was both gentle and demanding, I felt complete in a way I never had before.
Will's arousal pressed against my backside, and I reached behind me to stroke him, feeling him twitch at my touch. Jack noticed and grinned, his movements becoming more deliberate as he watched us.
"Patience, Mr. Turner," Jack said teasingly. "All good things to those who wait."
But Will was clearly done waiting. He positioned himself carefully, and I tensed slightly at the new sensation. Jack stilled, allowing Will to enter me slowly from behind. The feeling of being filled by both of them was overwhelming, a stretch and pressure that bordered on pain but quickly transformed into something else entirely, pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
"Move," I gasped, and they obeyed, finding a rhythm that had me crying out with each thrust. The small cabin filled with the sounds of our pleasure, skin against skin, breathless moans, Jack's occasional murmured instructions and Will's soft curses.
Time seemed to stretch and warp, minutes feeling like hours as we moved together in the moonlight. I was aware of everything and nothing, the rough texture of the cot beneath me, the calloused hands on my skin, the feeling of being possessed by these two men who represented such different parts of myself.
Jack's fingers found my clit, circling it with practiced ease as Will's hands roamed my body, touching and teasing. The dual stimulation sent me spiraling toward release faster than I would have thought possible.
"Let go," Jack urged, his voice strained with his own impending release. "Let us feel you."
And I did, crying out as waves of pleasure washed over me, so intense that my vision blurred and my ears rang. Will followed moments later with a hoarse shout, and then Jack, his movements becoming erratic before he finally stilled, his face buried in my neck.
We lay tangled together in the aftermath, sweaty and sated, the moonlight now casting long shadows across the cabin. I could feel both of their hearts beating against me, a rhythm that was somehow in sync despite their differences.
"Well," Jack said after a long silence, his voice muffled against my skin. "That was certainly more interesting than treasure hunting."
Will chuckled softly, his arms tightening around me. "Don't let Elizabeth hear you say that."
I smiled, content in the knowledge that this night, this adventure, was ours and ours alone. The treasure we'd found wasn't gold or jewels, but something far more precious, a connection between three people who, for one night at least, had found exactly what they were looking for.
As dawn's golden light crept through the porthole, I became acutely aware of the warmth surrounding me. Will's chest was firm against my back, his arm draped possessively over my waist, while Jack was curled in front of me, his dark hair fanned across the pillow. For a moment, I allowed myself to simply breathe in the scent of them, rum and sea salt from Jack, clean sweat and something uniquely Will Turner from the other side.
Jack's eyes fluttered open, and he blinked slowly, as if surprised to find us still there. A lazy grin spread across his face. "Well now," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "The compass wasn't lying after all."
Will shifted behind me, his arm tightening instinctively. "What compass?" he asked, his voice muffled against my hair.
"The one that points to what you desire most," Jack replied, propping himself up on an elbow. His dark eyes danced with mischief as he looked between us. "Seems it's been pointing to this particular treasure all along."
I felt a blush creeping up my neck, but Will only chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. "And here I thought it just pointed north."
Jack's grin widened as he leaned in to capture my lips in a slow, languid kiss that tasted of morning and rum. When he pulled away, his gaze flickered to Will over my shoulder. "Care to join the morning festivities, Mr. Turner? Or are you too respectable for such activities?"
Instead of answering, Will pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind my ear, his hand sliding down to rest on my hip. I arched into the touch, a soft sigh escaping me as Jack's fingers began tracing patterns on my stomach.
"That's a yes then," Jack observed with satisfaction. He shifted closer, his knee pressing between my thighs as his mouth traveled down my neck. "The captain is always happy to accommodate his crew."
The cabin filled with the sounds of renewed passion as hands began to explore once more. Will's fingers tangled in my hair as he tilted my head for better access to my neck, while Jack's mouth moved lower, his tongue teasing my nipples until they pebbled into tight points. I reached back blindly, finding Will's arousal already hard and ready, and wrapped my fingers around him, smiling at his sharp intake of breath.
"Always so eager," Jack murmured against my skin, his own hand moving lower to part my folds. His fingers slid through my wetness, circling my clit with practiced ease that had me writhing between them.
Will's hips rocked in time with my strokes, his breath coming faster against my neck. "Y/N," he groaned, his voice strained with desire. "Don't stop."
Jack chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through me. "Patience, William. Good things come to those who wait." But he didn't stop his own movements, his fingers delving deeper, curling inside me in a way that made my toes curl.
The morning light grew brighter as we moved together, a tangle of limbs and growing need. When Jack positioned himself above me, his eyes dark with desire, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He entered me with a slow, deliberate thrust that stole my breath, while Will's hands continued their exploration of my body.
Will shifted to kneel beside us, his eyes fixed on where Jack and I were joined. His hand moved to his own arousal, stroking in time with Jack's movements. The sight of him watching us, pleasuring himself as he watched Jack take me, sent a fresh wave of desire through me.
"Come closer," I breathed, reaching for him. "Let me taste you."
Will's eyes widened slightly, but he obeyed, moving to kneel above my head. I tilted my head back, taking him into my mouth as Jack continued his steady rhythm. The dual sensations were overwhelming, Jack filling me from below, Will filling my mouth from above, both men moving in perfect sync as if they'd done this a hundred times before.
Jack's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming deeper, more demanding. His fingers found my clit again, rubbing in tight circles that sent me spiraling toward release. Will's hands tangled in my hair, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax.
"That's it," Jack grunted, his voice strained with effort. "Take all of him, love. Show him how pirates do things."
The words sent me over the edge, and I cried out around Will as waves of pleasure washed over me. Will followed with a hoarse shout, his warmth filling my mouth as Jack thrust once more, his own release triggering another wave of pleasure through me.
We collapsed in a sweaty heap, the morning sun now fully illuminating the cabin. I could hear the ship beginning to stir outside, shouts from the deck, the creak of ropes being adjusted, the distant call of a seabird.
"We should get up," I said reluctantly, though I made no move to do so.
Jack nuzzled against my neck, his beard tickling my skin. "The crew can manage without their captain for a bit longer," he mumbled. "Especially if their captain is... occupied."
Will chuckled, his chest vibrating against my back. "Elizabeth would have my hide if she knew I was spending my mornings like this instead of preparing for the wedding."
The mention of Elizabeth brought a sudden tension to the room. Jack's eyes narrowed, and he propped himself up again. "Speaking of which," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "What happens when we reach Port Royal? Does this adventure end at the dock?"
I felt Will stiffen behind me, his arm tightening around my waist almost protectively. "It has to," he said quietly. "I made a promise."
"Promises," Jack scoffed, though there was an undercurrent of something else in his voice – disappointment, perhaps? "Pirate's promises are worth less than a parrot's droppings in a storm."
Will sat up, his expression troubled. "This is different. I love Elizabeth."
"And we love what we had last night," Jack countered, sitting up as well. "Don't we?" His gaze flickered between us, challenging us to deny it.
I sat up too, pulling the blanket around myself as I looked between them. "What happened last night was... amazing," I admitted softly. "But it was also just one night. An adventure."
"An adventure that could continue," Jack suggested, his voice lowering again. "The three of us. Imagine the possibilities, love. The treasures we could find."
Will stood up, reaching for his breeches. "I can't," he said firmly. "Elizabeth is my future. Last night was... a mistake. A wonderful, terrible mistake."
Jack's expression hardened, though he tried to hide it with a smirk. "A mistake? That's not what you were calling it when you were begging for more."
"Jack," I warned, but he continued, his voice edged with something I couldn't quite identify, hurt, perhaps?
"Tell me, William," Jack said, standing as well and closing the distance between them. "When you're lying in your marital bed with your proper English bride, will you be thinking of her? Or will you be remembering this night? Remembering how it felt to be with someone who truly understands the darkness inside you?"
Will's jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "I love Elizabeth," he repeated, though his voice lacked some of its earlier conviction.
Jack's eyes flickered to me. "And what about you, Y/N? Are you content to let this be just another story to tell? Another adventure to file away?"
I looked between them, at the pirate who lived for freedom and the blacksmith who craved stability. Both had touched something deep inside me, awakened desires I hadn't known I possessed.
"This doesn't have to end," I said slowly, my heart pounding with the audacity of what I was suggesting. "Not completely."
Will turned to look at me, his expression a mixture of shock and something else, hope? "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that adventures don't always have to end when the ship docks," I replied, finding courage I didn't know I possessed. "Sometimes they just... change form."
Jack's grin returned, slower this time, more genuine. "The compass is still pointing," he murmured, his gaze intense. "And I, for one, am inclined to follow it."
Will looked from Jack to me and back again, the conflict clear in his eyes. "Elizabeth—" he began, but I cut him off.
"Will still be there when you return," I said softly. "But this... this might not be. Some treasures are worth risking everything for."
The ship outside grew louder as the crew fully woke to the new day, but inside the cabin, three people stood at a crossroads, the future uncertain but full of possibility. Will's expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face.
"Just one more adventure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jack's hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with mine. "The best ones are never just one."
As the sun rose higher over the Caribbean, I knew that whatever happened next, this night, and this morning, had changed all of us in ways we couldn't yet understand. The treasure we'd found wasn't gold or jewels, but something far more precious, a connection that transcended the boundaries of convention and expectation.
And as Jack leaned in to kiss me again, with Will's arms wrapping around us both, I knew that this particular pirate adventure was far from over.
Commodore James Norrington X GN!Pirate!Reader (POC friendly)
Pronouns: You/Your
Summary: James interrogates you and instead of answers, he ends up getting flustered.
Warnings: None, I think.
Word Count: 745
A/N: I had a dream about this scenario, just straight up ragebaiting him.
The brig smells of salt, rust, and rotting wood. Years and years of seawater seeping through warped planks will do that. You shift against the wall, cold chains dragging across splintered floorboards.
Somewhere above, rigging creaks and gulls cry; taunting reminders of the freedom you so crave. The sea is close enough you can almost taste it, yet so far it’s laughable.
Bootsteps echo heavily down the narrow stairs, pulling you out of your daydream as they move closer. You push yourself up, gripping the rusty bars to get a better look at your newfound company.
A navy officer stops in front of your cell, hat tucked neatly beneath one arm, tailored uniform and powdered wig pristine in contrast to the damp rot of your surroundings. His jaw is tight, his eyes sharper still. A familiar disdainful look in his eye tells you all you need to know.
James Norrington.
“Quite the prize we’ve hauled in.” He says, voice clipped as though your mere existence is offensive to him. You raise a brow. “Prize? I thought myself more of a nuisance.” The corner of his mouth twitches, though whether toward amusement or annoyance you can’t tell.
“Your name.” He demands stiffly, posture impossible rigid. You lean back leisurely. “You’ve chased me halfway across the Caribbean and don’t even know my name? James, I’m wounded.”
“Your name.” He repeats, annoyance thick in his voice. “Perhaps…” You murmur, leaning forward, lowering your voice. “If you asked nicely.” His ears flush faintly red, though his expression doesn’t falter. “I am not here to play games.”
You laugh softly. “Then you’ve caught the wrong pirate, Commodore.” His knuckles whiten around his hat brim as you watch with delight. “Where are the charts you stole from the East India Company vessel?”
“Charts?” You echo innocently, tapping your chin in mock thought. “Oh, those charts! I thought them naught but pretty pictures. I gave them to my parrot to line his cage.” His jaw clenches, a vein popping on his forehead. “You risk hanging for theft and insolence.”
“And yet…” You purr, leaning closer, fingers curling around the bars. “You’ve come here alone. To speak with me. Why is that, Commodore?” He inhales sharply.
“Surely your time is too valuable to waste on a petty pirate in chains.” For a fleeting moment, his composure falters. A flicker of something you can’t quite read passes over his face.
“Whatever you attempt…” He starts stiffly. “…will not work. You will hang at Port Royal, as the law demands.” You tilt your head, watching as he moves to the hatch. “If the law demanded you shoot me here and now, would you do it?”
He freezes mid step, shoulders tense, fists clenched. You let out a soft laugh. “Thought so.” A beat, then he leaves without another word, though you notice the faintest hesitation in his stride.
Hours bleed into the night. Then, the sound of hurried footsteps pull you once again out of your daydream. A key grates against the lock and Norrington stands in the doorway, lantern in hand. His hair is slightly windswept, uniform less immaculate, expression unreadable.
“Come with me.” He says breathlessly. “Ah. Execution at dawn?” You rise warily. “Something like that…” He mutters, turning on his heel, beckoning you to follow.
The night air is sharp as you step onto the deserted deck, lantern light glinting off the gentle waves. Norrington gently pulls you toward him and unlocks your chains. The irons clatter to the floor. You flex your wrists, rubbing at the raw skin.
James takes your hands, thumbs rubbing in soothing circles. “You don’t have to go…” He seems surprised at his own words. “I could put in a good word for you.” He continues when you don’t argue with him. “With your skills, you could even join my fleet.”
“You know…” You smile, meeting his eyes. “We’re not so different, you and I.” Norrington looks away. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. You close the distance, lips brushing his before he can think better and react. You pull back with a grin. “Until we meet again, Commodore.”
And then you’re gone, slipping onto the dinghy and vanishing into the night, leaving James alone with his thoughts. He should call the guards back. He should raise alarm.
He does not. Instead he stares out at the vast, open sea. And though he would never say it aloud, James Norrington almost hopes you’ll keep your word.
