#james norrington x reader

[imaginepirates]

How They Confess

For the anon who wanted to know how the characters would confess their feelings, and how they would react if the reader confessed first.

This includes Jack, Will, Lizzie, James, Beckett, and Barbossa.

Jack:

Jack isn’t one to make a grand show of things, and if he’s to confess, it’ll be in a moment of simplicity. You’ll be curled up together in his cabin, warm and drowsy, soft light shining out from the lanterns. He can only admit it to you when he’s completely relaxed—he can hardly admit it to himself sometimes, how much he loves you. But he says it softly in your ear, and you’re more pleased than surprised, already tangled together in the sheets. Your brain’s a bit fuzzy anyway, and the full weight of it wouldn’t hit you until the next morning. But by then he’s up and out on deck, and you’re left with the knowledge that he really does love you after all. 

If you’re the first to confess, Jack would be taken aback. He doesn’t expect you to love him, not really, so it comes as a bit of a shock to his system. It would take him some time to process, too, and he has to do some serious introspection before he can say it back. Love is a heavy thing in his eyes, and he’s not about to mess it up. 

Will:

Though he can be bashful, Will is completely unashamed of his feelings for you. If you’re of the same social station, he’ll simply tell you how he feels by taking you out for a walk along the oceanfront. If you’re too far above him on the social ladder, he’ll keep his feelings to himself, though they shine through with all the things he does for you to make life easier and more convenient. 

If you speak up first, Will’s a little embarrassed, but in a good way. He feels a little guilty for not saying anything, but quickly gets over it; he’s just happy you feel the same, and that you’re comfortable enough in your affection to tell him. He likes that you can own it—not everyone is attracted to blacksmiths. Besides, hearing the words from you is just the confidence boost he needs. 

Elizabeth:

Elizabeth wants to make her confession as perfect as she can. She does it over a nice dinner, just the two of you, and she’s pulled out the candles for the occasion. She’s a romantic at heart, and wants to have the right atmosphere in which to tell you how she feels. She’s really one for the aesthetic. It’s honestly rather cute, the effort she puts in, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. 

If you’re the first to confess, Lizzie is just delighted. She has butterflies for days, and be prepared for all the secret little messages dictated by high society. I’m talking fan-signals, flower language, the whole package. Even though she loves you earnestly, and even though you know both know it, she’s absolutely going to make the most of the courtship process and all it entails.

James:

We all know how awkward James is about confessing his feelings. He’s been rehearsing for days, and is almost too anxious to do it in the first place. He’s afraid of coming off too strong, and overanalyzes every interaction you’ve had together. He ensures the setting is both pleasant and proper, and though it may seem a little stiff, you’re aware the confession is genuine. That being said, the moment you indicate the feeling is mutual, his composure cracks and he gives you that huge smile he tries so hard to hide. 

If you beat him to it, he’d be shocked. Not only is he surprised that you made the first move, which is so expected of him, but he honestly had no idea you felt that way about him. It takes him a good long time to find the right words to tell you he feels the same, and you’ll have to be patient as he recovers from his astonishment. 

Beckett:

This man is never, ever, going to admit to loving you. He won’t even let himself think about his affection for you. In all truth and honesty, he’s terrified of his feelings, seeing them as a weakness that someone will figure out and exploit. He’s also afraid you won’t feel the same way. How could you? It would take a serious moment of vulnerability—either when something awful happens to you, or when you show him honest tenderness. Either way, it’s completely unexpected and almost unbelievable…until you see the fear in his eyes and realize it’s the truth. 

If you make the first move, Beckett doesn’t think you’re serious. He’s willing to play along, but he figures you want something from him. So he brushes it off, though your words linger in his mind for days after. He’s probably in his office doing paperwork when it hits him that you were being completely serious, and he’s absolutely overcome by it. He makes sure to explain himself when he sees you next; he just didn’t think someone could feel that way about him. 

Barbossa:

Barbossa is, if nothing else, a gentleman at heart. Again, this will likely be a dinner confession, though Hector isn’t nearly as anxious as Elizabeth might be. He’s been around a while, and he’s really only going to say anything if he’s fairly certain you’re interested. He also isn’t offended if you reject—he completely understands why someone wouldn’t want to be with him. He’s relaxed about the whole affair so you never have to feel nervous over any of it. If it turns out you are interested, he’s going to treat you with perfect curtesy and warm affection.

If you’re the first to say anything, Hector’s a bit smug. He might be slightly sheepish that you beat him to it, but overall, he’s happy to hear you say it. He’ll tease you over it in good humor, though he knows you can give as good as you get. He’s secretly happy to hear you say it because he’s insecure about his age. 

[socksracoon10]

Hi love here I come with my first spontaneous idea 🩷

Reader is the Commodore's sister but sick of the ways of society. When Jack saves Elisabeth, reader is the one who persuaded James not to kill Jack and also the one he happens to threat in order to escape. She’s somehow drawn to the Captain and later gives Will the keys to the cell to set him free. Jacks thoughts circle around her, too and they reunite when she swings last minute from the Dauntless over to the Interceptor to join the pirates making way❣️

Curious of The Seas

A/N: Literally fell in love with your ask oh my god, couldn't stop thinking about it before I began writing!! Thank you so much for this request! Pairings: Jack Sparrow x F!Reader, Will Turner x F!Reader (Platonic), James Norrington x F!Reader (siblings)

"Don't slouch, stand straight," Commodore Norrington hissed at you. You glared at your brother, curving your lips downward. You hated how strict and loyal he was to the British Crown and how he enforced his rules onto you, despite being his "precious baby sister." 

Your brother didn't hate you, but he sure did a good job of making you hate him. He was pacing his quarters back and forth, rehearsing what he would say to Miss Elizabeth Swann upon meeting her. You rolled your eyes at the pathetic scene, realizing that if your brother were to marry Miss Swann you were next on the list for the most eligible bachelorette in Port Royal. Your body cringed at the thought and you wriggled your back to shake off the eerie feeling crawling down your spine and focused on trying to ease your brother at the moment.

"James, there is no point in stressing over something as simple as this. Tell her you are in love with-" You began but frowned when he interjected,

"Love? Don't be ridiculous!"

"So, you're not in love with her?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, I very much am in love with her. But it is not proper for a man such as myself to say trivial things to the daughter of the Governor!" Your brother reasoned and you sighed in an exasperated tone, shifting your gaze out the window.

Elizabeth had stared at you with a quizzical look on her face when your brother and you had first approached her. You both shared the same expression of disdain for the situation. It was very clear to see that she was indifferent to your brother and surely was the very last man that she had any interest for. You, on the other hand, dearly loved your brother and wanted to save him from any heartache that she would cause him. You chewed your lip nervously, watching them exchange a few words of greetings before walking away. The commodore glanced over his shoulder, mouthing a few warnings to reign your behavior in for the biggest moment of his life before stalking away.

Huffing in annoyance, you picked the ends of your dress up and marched past the Governor who was just about to start a conversation with you. He awkwardly shut his mouth and watched you walk away to stand on the other corner of the pillar where your brother and Elizabeth stood. He leaned backward to get a good look at you, sending you another glare before returning his full attention to the woman in front of him with a nervous smile. You sighed, gazing out to the sea. Your brother had taken you once beyond Port Royal when you were a little girl and he swore it was something he very much regretted; all you could ever do since then was talk about sailing the seas. You desired to travel across the world, collect artifacts, and live a free life. Your brother scoffed at your desires, stating that he would rather die than see his little sister galloping around like a pirate of all creatures.

As you gazed out into the horizons with a look of yearning, you heard the loudest splash from below. Peering over the edges of the wall, you frowned at the ripples that seemed to bloom near the rocks and you instantly pulled back from your position and walked around to notice your brother screaming Elizabeth's name.

"What did you do?" You exclaimed, resting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from your grasp, beginning to take his coat off but you grabbed hold of him,

"The rocks, James! She's lucky that she didn't hit them on her way down! Come, we can reach her at the docks!" You urged him, yanking his arm. He seemed instilled with distraught, at a loss for words, "She must've jumped by your mere presence!"

Your brother sent you a nasty scowl and the playful smirk on your lips faded away instantaneously. You knew this was no joking matter; the poor woman could've died on her way down and she was to be betrothed to him anyway. As your brother scampered off with the rest of the guards, you found your feet rooted to the ground as you stared up at the sky. Something was amiss. The clouds darkened and circled about gravely, and the sea no longer held its silky blue blanket to comfort you. Before you could try and comprehend what must've occurred, you felt an urgent tug around your arms and you sharply turned to find yourself facing the Governor.

"Come now, my dear, you mustn't dawdle around when my daughter's life is in danger!" He exclaimed and you frowned at his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him. Even if you wanted to help Elizabeth, there was surely no way you could swim into the waters with this puffy dress around you. You followed him down to the docks, pushing past the British officers to find yourself facing Elizabeth coughing up heaps of water from her lungs and then... a pirate.

With all the rifles surrounding him, you nearly thought they were aimed at your brother who stood in the way. You could only make out half his face, oblivious to the ensuing conversation that your brother was currently engaged in. You peeked around the Commodore's shoulder, carefully eyeing the strange man in your presence when his eyes flickered over to you for a sharp second before returning to your brother. Your breath hitched at the moment, taking in his disheveled and wet appearance as your brother remained as the shield between the man and you.

"He's a pirate," Your brother growled, his jaw clenching as he barked orders for his arrest. He ignored your gaping stare as he continued, "Sparrow, I assume?"

"Jack Sparrow?" You interjected, your mouth practically on the floor as you stared at him. The corner of the pirate's lips curved into a small smirk,

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow, love," He smiled with a wink. You smiled back before your brother forcefully shoved you behind him once again. He made a mental note to have a discussion with you about your behavior as soon as you returned home. He took the pirate's belongings and derided him for his lack of proper weapons, but it bothered him so deeply that you were so enchanted by the man. It irked him to think that his sister would fall foolish to a PIRATE of all people. He forcefully grabbed onto Jack's arm and began dragging him off before you cut him off,

"James! James!" You cried out, and your brother halted in his tracks and sent you a menacing scowl.

"Not another word from you, (Y/N)." He hissed, and you scoffed before pulling your skirt up ever so slightly to march up to your brother,

"This man, pirate or not, has just saved your betrothed's life! I suggest you at least show some mercy upon him!"

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man's life of wickedness," Your brother corrected you as Jack was being handcuffed by a Redcoat.

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Jack added, and you offered him a sympathetic look before turning to your brother with pleading eyes.

"Brother, please. I beg of you, consider an alternative for this man." You prodded him, as your eyes fell onto Elizabeth who smiled softly at your words.

"Please do so," Jack muttered, before dragging his bound hands around your neck. You gasped in response, tugging at the chains as your brother panicked.

"No one shoots!" The Commodore bellowed, holding his hands in the air, "Let go of my sister."

"Only if you return my belongings," Jack taunted with a haughty grin. He leaned closer to lowly utter into your ears, "You must be regretting your kindness, do you not?"

"I don't, but it seems that you'll regret it," You whispered, as you watched the guards hand in his belongings in a bundle. Jack nudged your back with his knee ever so lightly to grab hold of his things and you begrudgingly did so, before sharply turning around to face him.

"Now if you'll do me the pleasure... my, I don't think I know your name..." He said with a sly smirk. You frowned at him,

"It's Miss Norrington to you," You spat, placing his hat on. As you placed his sword, belt, and other personnel around him, you could feel his intense stare burning deep into you. If it was of lust or attraction, you did not know and at the moment did not necessarily care. Your mind was fixated on other things, and your brother was seething in rage as he watched Jack give him a look regarding your body against his that made him want to hurl. To think his sister was so close to a gruesome pirate! It was preposterous!

As you tied the last remaining string of his belt around him, you looked up at him with disgust. Not only was he a pirate, but this would be the talk of the town, and your brother's and your reputation would be spoiled. Your brother could easily regain his good fortune, but you were never as lucky. You hated the way the women would gossip and to think it was all spoiled over one man you decided to be too merciful with because your curiosity could not be controlled made you ready to commit arson.

"Is this how you repay me?" You hissed and the pirate smirked at your words,

"I saved your friend's life, and now you save me. Besides, you did after all wish for me to live. Now, suffer those consequences. When shall a beautiful lady such as yourself realize to never mess with a pirate?" He chuckled, before harshly turning you around with his gun aimed at your head. Your brother flinched at the sudden movement, making sure you were alright. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, you will always remember this as the day you almost caught Jack Sparrow," The pirate's voice boomed from behind you and the very next second you found yourself thrust upon your brother and Elizabeth. As Jack Sparrow hurriedly began his escape, he did not fail to include a personal message from his heart, "Thank you very much, Miss Norrington. I shall not ever forget such kindness!"

And you weren't ready to forget him, either. It would be for another reason. As the night raged on with a surge of pirates infiltrating Port Royal, you felt a growing desire to do something about it. Your brother had joined the Governor for his safety and left you at home to be tended to by the maids. Upon realizing that the front door would burst open regardless of the circumstances, you quietly slipped out the window in your nightly attire and made your way to the blacksmith's quarters where you knew for a fact that your good friend Will Smith would be. Will and you had grown as siblings; he was there for you more than your brother had been. He had anticipated your arrival anyway but found himself in jeopardy when his ears gathered the news that Elizabeth Swann had been abducted by the pirates. He was pacing around when you arrived and he quickly latched onto your shoulders,

"They've taken Elizabeth! I tried my best but-" Will began but you silenced him, bringing a hand to his mouth.

"I know what you must be going through. But there is not enough time. I heard you helped imprison Jack Sparrow." You whispered and he nodded his head, eyes wide as he tried to make the best of the situation, "Come, I have the key with me, we can both interrogate him and seek his help." Your hand fell to his own and led him towards the streets.

"Wait a minute," Will stopped you, and with a glance over your shoulder you already knew what he was about to say. He was going to prevent you from going. "(Y/N), I know you've always wished to escape Port Royal, but I cannot bring harm to you once you step foot onto the waters."

"Will," You chastised him, "I am no longer a little girl. I am very capable of handling my own matters."

"You are inexperienced, that's all I can say." Will rebuked your claim and you gasped at his words, before furrowing your brows,

"So are you!"

"Ah, but I shall be bringing Sparrow with me to help find Elizabeth."

"Oh, don't be so dull! I can help Sparrow and you as well. Do not prevent me from doing so! If it is out of fear that a pirate may do something towards a woman of my status, I assure you that no such thing will occur! If he dares to even look at me, I shall see to it that his eyes are gouged out by his blade!" You reasoned and Will took a step backwards, his lips parting in shock at your words. You had the spirit of a pirate in you that was for sure, and that was exactly what he feared.

"I cannot let you join. Your brother is... already facing loss," He replied in an awkward tone, considering how much he cared about Elizabeth, "He would be devasted to find you gone as well. Just stay put for now. I'm sure there shall be something more exciting for you in Port Royal."

You muttered a few unladylike curses under your breath and reluctantly offered him the key to the jail cell, "At least tell Sparrow that I was... delighted by his presence."

Will raised a suspicious eyebrow at your remark, unsure of how to respond. He nodded his head and then left you alone, as you brought your hands over your arms as your mind wandered towards the sea once again.

To say that Jack Sparrow was surprised by Will's statement regarding you would be an understatement. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you so willingly offered him the key to his escape, considering how he had humiliated your brother and especially you in front of everyone at the docks earlier in the day. He chewed his lip, his eyes dilating at the thought of you. The way you stared at him in defiance, your temples rising and falling with the way you clenched your jaw. Of course, who could forget the sensation of your fingers pressed up against him as you fastened his belt? As much of the ladies' man that Jack was, there was something different about you. You weren't like Giselle or Scarlet, complaining about superficial things or just merely trying to get into his pants. He could tell there was this curious spirit fighting to break free when he first laid eyes on you. The way you cautiously peered over your brother's shoulder had made him... well, he certainly wouldn't say his heart skipped a beat. He wasn't a silly little boy. He was a man! A grown man, a pirate! CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, mind you. And yet here he was, trying to justify to himself that what he felt for you was nothing more than just infatuation that would surely pass on.

But it didn't. It never did. While of course, his thoughts about stealing The Interceptor were his priority, he just couldn't stand still without his mind fleeting over to the very image of you, dressed in that regal bright blue gown and your hair all curled and pinned to form the most exquisite portrait of a woman he'd ever seen in his life. He smirked to himself at the thought of you, wondering what you must be doing at Port Royal at the moment. What if your brother had you married off to someone else? What if you were to live the rest of your life as a boring wife to an equally boring officer? He shook his head, wriggling himself free from those imaginative concoctions. He was a pirate, damn it. He had better things to think about than just a woman he had seen days ago.

"You've got to be kidding me," Your brother grumbled as he pushed past you. You had boarded The Interceptor with him, not because you had wanted to - even though you took every chance out on the sea with gratefulness - but because your brother was so worried about the possibility of your abduction that he wished you were beside him at all times. Including those incredibly still moments of him gazing out into the sea. To him, he seemed to have an air of control, all the world's burdens upon his shoulder. This was his duty. When you gazed out into the sea, however, it was a plethora of possibilities. The unmarked territories you could claim, the desire for you to seek out treasure from all corners. You could be free. And no one would stop you. Save your brother, but that was something he'd always do anyway. Your attention focused on The Dauntless a couple hundred meters away as you noticed flocks of the British crew on small boats were paddling towards the ship you were in. Your brother gazed through his telescope and snarled at the sight, hesitantly passing the device for you to see as well. From afar, you saw Will Turner and... Jack Sparrow? The pirate? Both of them were flapping their arms around trying to make use of the mast. You guffawed at the sight, laughing at them. You turned to face your brother who quickly reminded you with his gaze about your behavior and you swallowed the amusement away as fast as you could.

The two ships - The Dauntless and The Interceptor - were locked horns now and your brother ordered you to come with him to board The Dauntless and put an end to Sparrow's madness. You reluctantly agreed, your eyes scanning around to see any sight of the familiar pirate you had so longed to see. 

"Search every cabin, every hull," Your brother barked, before turning back to you, "And you stay close to me. Do not go wandering about like a fool like you always do." 

You glowered at him, electing not to anger him any further as you stood on the deck. You watched him disappear among the surge of officers onto The Dauntless. You sighed, pacing back and forth when you noticed two men swing over to The Interceptor. It was Will and Jack.

Eyes widening in surprise, you tried to call attention to the situation but your cries fell on deaf ears. You stomped your foot and watched Jack cut off the rope ties, one by one. His gaze was fixed downwards until he looked up momentarily, and there you stood. He stood there for a few more seconds, completely surprised by your presence. Deep down, as much as he hated to admit it, he feared that he would never see you again.

"What are you doing? Cut the rope!" Will cried out in confusion before he followed Jack's eyes to you. Jack looked upwards at the rope still connecting the two boats before turning back to you,

"Jump, Miss Norrington!" He instructed, and you stepped forward, holding onto a long piece of rope. Upon hearing your name, your brother rushed out of the Captain's Quarters, pushing past his men.

"(Y/N)!" He yelled, his eyes daring you to make another move. Realizing that this was the only opportunity to acquire what you had spent so long yearning for; the deep blue seas, the adventure, and the whimsical treasures, you sent him one final glance before running off the deck of The Dauntless and swinging onto The Interceptor. With the final rope now gone, and the ship sailing forward at full speed your brother looked at you as if you were dead to him.

When The Dauntless was far behind and there seemed to be no danger at the present moment, you walked towards your friend Will and the pirate beside him. Will seemed elated that you were there, and he hugged you so warmly that you nearly forgot that he was not related to you by blood. Releasing you from his arms, he sheepishly stepped aside as Jack Sparrow stepped forward.

"Miss Norrington, it is a pleasure to have you on board with us. I almost feared you might not have the guts to swing over," He teased, his hand graciously wrapping around your own as he kissed your fingers with such gentleness that it surprised you. You cracked half a smile at him, narrowing your eyes, before responding,

"You may call me (Y/N), and please, I never turn down an opportunity for adventure."

[witchthewriter]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: knife flirting, a bit nsfw but not much

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTJ

Gryffindor

Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You were enemies, you were supposed to be enemies.

・But fate (always) has other plans.

・Your first interaction wasn't the normal law vs outlaw situation

・It was like James couldn't breathe; your eyes, there was something so ... invigorating about them. They drew him in. Words became difficult.

・But when you pulled a weapon, he snapped back into his normal self.

・With his sword pressed against your neck, your smirked and in a flash, twirled and slipped out a hidden dagger. With the sharp knife pressed against his throat, you both subconciously agreed never to hurt one another. Even if you were sworn enemies.

"What's your name?" James said sternly. The height difference made it harder to keep your dagger pressed to his skin.

"Oh, wig, wouldn't you like to know?" And then you lightly bit his ear and disappeared.

・A shiver went down his spine.

・And he hoped no one saw the interaction, because now he was smiling.

・When you were apart, time felt like it was going by too quickly. James was yearning for you, his heart thudding whenever he thought about you.

・After running into each other three separate times, being away from you was too much to bear.

・When you were together, time stopped.

・Eyes looking into eyes. Hands caressing the smallest part of bare skin. Both of you were breathless.

・But you had to keep this from your crew. From the rest of the pirate community.

・If they knew you were together with someone from the law, no one would trust you.

・Your nickname for him is 'wig,' since he always wears that awful powdered white wig. You've told him how terrible it is, but he sees it as another badge for his status.

・Being together means you become more open-minded. You see things from each other's point of views.

・You love the way he becomes so flustered when you whisper in his ear. He always thanks the good god in heaven that he's wearing sleeves because goosebumps erupt as well.

・When he whispered, "I love you," for the first time, you couldn't breathe. This wasn't supposed to go so far. But it did. It has.

・You sat up as thoughts flooded your head.

・Could you ever get married? Would either of you even want to quit your life for the other?

・You looked back at James, who was sprawled in the sheets. His ugly wig discarded, no uniform to be found.

・All you wanted to do was stay in his arms. But your crew could only stay drunk for so long. And you had to get back to them.

・One thing you did know, was that his love would last.

・But your life wasn't ready to change just yet; so you both got dressed, kissed each other goodbye and ... walked away.

・As he had slipped a piece of parchment in your clothes. It read, "forever."

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Literal Angel (James) x Smooth Devil (You)

Soft for exactly one person (You) x Is that one person (James)

"Do you love me or do you love chaos?" (You) x "Yes" (James)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

The true Enemies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈(s)

Wands Into The Earth by James Newton Howard

First Kiss by Howard Shore

You Can't Catch Me Now by Olivia Rodrigo

[hannaswritingblog]

Imagine: Jack Sparrow and James Norrington getting jealous of you

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

Suggested by anon [x] – I really hope that this imagine is at least close to what you had in mind and that you like it! And if you have any other suggestions, my inbox is always open. 😊

You're walking down a pier in the Port Royal harbour, trying to clear your mind. Everyone's been waiting for James Norrington to be promoted to Commodore for a while now and today, on a day of the official ceremony, the area is buzzing with excitement.

Being a part of James's immediate circle, you should feel that excitement too. Deep in your heart you certainly do. But at the same time you can't help but wonder how your life would've gone if you didn't abandon your life at sea. Your life as a pirate...

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realise you're not alone anymore until you feel a tap on your shoulder, forcing you to turn around only to see the soon-to-be Commodore next to you.

"Is something bothering you, Y/N?" Norrington says, smiling softly.

"Oh, it's... nothing, James. Nothing's bothering me. I was just thinking about... my past."

His smile immediately fades away, but he manages to keep his composure as he tells you:

"You don't have to worry about your past. Nobody around knows that you were a pirate except me, and I intend on keeping your secret safe, just as I promised."

"Thank you. But... you know who was my captain during my time as a pirate, right?"

A solemn expression crosses his face before he says:

"Yes. Yes, I know. And it doesn't change a thing."

Deep down you know it changes a lot, but neither of you is going to admit it. But even though his pride must be hurt, you appreciate that James is steady in his promise.

"I'm glad. If you could give me one more minute alone though. I'll join you soon."

"Of course."

He bows to you slightly and walks away. You wait for Norrington to be gone from your sight before reluctantly following him.

On your way out of the harbour you pass a familiar figure. It takes you a second to realise where you know the person from, but once you do, you can't help but turn around and call out:

"Jack!"

"Oh. So it really is you, Y/N," Jack Sparrow says, walking back to you. "Didn't expect to see you around, sweetie."

"As if it wasn't where you dropped me off last time we saw each other," you respond.

"Okay, so maybe I knew I'd find you here. But not in the company of an officer of the Royal Navy, for sure."

"Oh, Norrington? He's just a..." You stop for a second when you notice that Jack's usual sly smile is now gone. "Wait... are you jealous?"

"What, me? Jealous? Of some officer? Never." Only when you raise an eyebrow at him, he admits: "Okay. I might be just a little jealous. But if this is how you live now..."

"Yes. I believe it is."

"...then I won't try to change your mind."

Something in your heart stings, as if you wanted him to try. You almost ask him to, but instead you catch yourself saying:

"Thank you. I still hope you'll stick around; Norrington is promoted to Commodore today, it's a chance to have some fun."

"You should stop tempting me, Y/N. A chance to have a good time and be in your presence? I reckon I shall stick around."

Jack sends you a smile before you part ways. And that smile is how you know he's back to his usual self and besides the fun, you can definitely expect some trouble.

[madhatterbri]

Comfort | J.N.

Summary: After suffering an injury, the old Commodore tends to your wound.

Mentions of blood and injury.

James Norrington Masterlist

You staggered across the wooden deck, clutching your blood-soaked forearm. The sword fight was quick, but your now-deceased foe made sure to leave the world with one last act. With the swing of the sword, he sliced your arm, leaving a nasty cut. At least you managed to come away with a couple pieces of silver.

You stared out into the ocean to calm you. A child of an officer in the British Royal Navy, the ocean was your true calling. The moonlight shined on the water. The waves crashing against the boat and snores from your fellow crew mates drowned the sound of boots coming towards you.

"Rough day looting, pirate?" James asked and leaned his back against the ship railing. You gulped back a snarky remark. He still had a hatred towards pirates. The man was on a pirate ship but refused to partake in pirate activities.

"It was fine, Norrington," you answered cooly and moved your arm from his stern gaze. The last person you wanted to see your injury was him. James would have gone above and beyond to make you worse than you already felt.

"No witty response?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and a grin. He shifted, so he was leaning against the railing and facing you. You shifted your injured arm around your back. He could see the grimace of pain on your face from the moonlight. "What's wrong, pirate?"

"Nothing," you answered a little too quickly. His eyes darted to the blood on the railing and then the arm behind your back. You took a few steps away, knowing he connected the dots.

He grabbed your upper arm. You hissed in pain as your arm was presented to him. He rolled the sleeve up your arm. The blood oozed on his hand. James squinted at your wound , and his eyes shot to yours. You could have fooled yourself into thinking he actually looked concerned. Doubtful.

"Why didn't you see Doc?" He asked. You didn't respond. No surprise to him. The old Commodore sighed and let go of your arm. "Follow me. I'll take care of it,"

You followed him below deck like a child in trouble. Your feet scurried quickly to keep up with him. You hung your head, feeling embarrassed that James had to be the one to help you. He sat on a wooden stool at a table. You sat down across from him.

"This is going to sting," he warned you shortly before pouring alcohol on the wound. You closed your eyes tightly and clenched your teeth. The pain was temporary and you didn't want to give him more reason to mock you. Being a female pirate had already afforded you enough mockery from others.

"Wasn't so bad," you tried to joke. You could have sworn you saw a smile on his face briefly. He started to pat your arm with a cloth. His hands were surprisingly soft. Work on a pirate ship must have not caught up to his hands yet.

With another piece of cloth, he wrapped your wound. You felt yourself melt with his touch. He finished wrapping the bandage around your arm a little too quickly for your liking. His hands caressed just below the injured part of your arm and your hand.

"All better," he spoke smugly yet his fingers brushed against yours. You pulled your arm back towards you. Your cheeks felt hot.

"Thank you, James,"

"Anytime," he stopped. You could see he was struggling with what to call you. So many times, he simply called you pirate. "Y/N,"

[northstarwasmyguide]

The Mermaid and The Commodore

The retelling of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid but sets in Pirates of the Caribbean setting. When the little mermaid turns 18, she falls in love with the Royal Navy captain, a soon-to-be commodore named James Norrington. However, the mermaids told her that she was a mermaid who could live longer than humans like Norrington. Can the Little Mermaid have a chance to be with him?

Link to the fic on ao3

[t-annuki]

Quick sketch of him. I'm in my Norrington era

[whirlybirbs]

100% support the slutty norrington one off <3

WINE-EYED  ;  j.n.

summary: you loved him once. set during potc:dmc.

pairing: james norrington x f!reader

tags: unrequited love, angst, comfort, a dash of injury and worry, flashbacks to port royal & powdered wigs, a nice dock makeout scene

a/n: bro idk. bro IDK. had some pirate thoughts and then this 3.6k mess happened.

"You always did love her."

Those words, raw and cold from your lips, feel like salt in a wound — as stinging as the sea whipping James Norrington’s sun-split cheeks. The warmth of the setting sun does little to melt your icy disposition, and the ex-Commodore’s well-stoked and unbridled self-loathing rears once more.

He deserves that.

It’s evening, now. Most of the crew has settled below deck for well-earned rest and picking over supper — and you’re here, avoiding the raucous company in lieu of this. Quiet. Peace.

It’s not something you’ve had for weeks now, following Lizzy around the sea in chase of wandering loves and willful compasses and some still-beating heart in a long, lost chest.

She’s with Jack, now — chatting quietly in the evening air as they continue to plot a course by the stern. Far enough away that they’re in their own little world, as muddled and confusing as that thing between them is. Far enough away that James can stare, and wonder, and reminisce in heartwrenching loneliness.

At the sound of your voice, his head snaps forward along the horizon. He stiffens. James leans on the port banister and exhales.

“Have you come to mock me, then?” he replies in that same smooth voice you’d loved long ago — but it’s bitter and harsh, like the sting of an expensive whiskey.

You lean against the mass and cross your arms. The Eastern wind is cool — but it carries the edge of a coming storm. Give it two or three days, you reckon.

You cross your arms over your chest, and the barrel of your long rifle sways against your back. It’s cool through the thin cotton of your billowed blouse.

Your eyes slip coolly across his posture. The tumble of dark, salt-curled strands are pulled loosely into a blue ribbon. He doesn’t turn to face you, and instead turns his eyes to the honeyed-rose sunset dwindling along the horizon.

You deserve that.

You push off the mast and swagger forward. You come to rest beside him, and plant your calloused palms on the weathered wood of the Pearl’s railing.

“Pray, how is that mockery?” you say lightly, though your tone is sharp. Confident. Sure as the setting sun, “It is but the God’s honest truth.”

For the first time since he’s come aboard, he turns his head and looks at you then — truly looks at you.

James realizes then that you are not the woman he once knew in Port Royal.

There’s a new scar on your cheek. Your hair is different — styled in a more practical sense than perfectly placed like he remembers. You lack ribbons and rouge and petticoats. You’ve dawned trousers and boots and belts and sashes.

The only thing he recognizes is that rifle on your back.

You always were an impressive shot.

Though sport was rare on the island of Port Royal, your reputation followed you from England. Your father, the Governor’s Treasurer, took every chance he could to boast about his daughter’s accomplishments. James remembers many a dinner where you sat, as soft and doe-eyed and girlish as could be, and sported a bashful smile at the praise.

You were different from Elizabeth.

You always had been.

While Elizabeth had been infallible — high, and unattainable on a pedestal he’s half-aware he built himself — you had been present and interested and kind. It was clear you held a spot in your heart from the Commodore, even then. Even when he was intent on having Lizzy’s hand. Even when his attention was always wrung from conversation by her approach.

Even when he left, heartbroken and intent on chasing pirates.

You can feel his eyes on you.

His words are slow and very serious. “I’m not in the mood for jests, my lady.”

The jab doesn’t land. You continue on, unbothered.

“There was a time I would do anything for you to look at me like that, you know,” comes your easy reply as you move to crawl atop the cannon to your right. You perch yourself with ease. There’s a moment of silence that settles between you and James feels an uneasy itch crawl into his heart, “God, I would have thrown myself from the Fort’s cliffs, even.”

You never admitted your feelings for him.

Not before now.

He knew, God, of course, he did. Of course.

But, he’d been blind, then. Ignorant to the devotion of one woman, eagerly chasing the untouchable affection of another.

Finally, you look at him, and he feels like it’s ten years past again — and you’re chatting in a quiet room at a boisterous dinner party over the ethics and intricacies of Queen Anne’s privateering laws. He remembers the candlelight and the companionship and the comfort.

You were friends, once.

Your voice is quiet, carried away by the wind. You watch him, albeit distantly.

“Now look at us.”

Two tired souls, each as lost as the other.

With a flick, your gaze finds his. James’ eyes are the color of sea glass — they search yours for a moment before his jaw tenses and he drops his gaze to the water.

He’s quiet for a while, and so are you. For now, it’s just the calm swell of the sea. The sun has all but extinguished now, and the stars are creeping up over your back.

His voice is softer now.

“I doubt an apology would mend much of anything.”

You screw your face uptight. You move to pull your knees up. You’re quick to placate the assumption with a dry laugh. “I didn’t come up here seeking an apology—”

James straightens his posture and turns, fully allowing you to occupy his attention. “Then why did you come to me at all?”

His voice was colder than he intended.

You wince.

Years of loneliness, of regret, of shame, of guilt — they’ve all eroded the soul he had before. He’s as changed as you. Propriety would once call that this conversation be chaperoned; now, he finds himself yearning for a moment alone with you.

His eyes snap away again.

“...It’s what I owe you,” he says — this time, purposefully softening each syllable to paint his intent; he tries to placate the ache he sees in your face, “You... You were always kind to me. Even when I hardly deserved it. Even now.”

His eyes are soft.

Your lashes flutter.

“...It was always impossible to be anything but kind to you, James Norrington.”

He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue — coy, gentle and warm. Sweeter than he remembers now, punctuated by the briefest slip of a smile. It leaves with the passing wind.

With that, you slip down from your perch and slip away.

James watches you climb to the Crow’s Nest — agile and graceful — and wonders why he ever let himself forgo your affections in the first place.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The storm rears upon them sooner than anyone expected.

It’s as if in an instant, the Pearl is swallowed by clouds darker than it’s pitch-colored sails. The electric snap of lightning splits the sky open, and in the span of five minutes, the Pearl careens into the worst storm First Mate Joshamee Gibbs has seen in ten years.

The winds send waves high — and in the chaos of bone-rattling impacts upon the deck, the crew is sent into a scramble trying to maintain the heading. They’ll lose day's worth of travel if they let the storm have her way.

The rain is coming down so heavy that James Norrington can barely see — all he can hear is the hoarse barks of orders by Gibbs and the roar of the thunder and his own thoughts.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men.

His back burns as his hands grip the sea-slick ropes and he heaves, pulling taut the mainsail with four men at his back. A wave slams them from the starboard side and sends a line of sailors tumbling — and James gulps for air when the ice water strikes him hard. But, he stands firm. Keeps hauling.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men—

It’s your voice, suddenly, that cuts through the roar of the storm.

“HOLD FAST!”

The starboard side is being battered by the wind and the waves and the rain. Hit after hit, the crew tries to maintain footing as they adjust the sails to correct the heading — and now, you’ve planted yourself at the front of the line.

James’ head snaps to you — and he watches a wave nearly ten feet high slam down on the deck, directly atop your head.

Somehow, you stay upright.

But, it’s like drowning.

Your hair clings to you in wind-whipped tendrils of snarls. Your shirt is soaked through, and the chill is settling into your bones. Still, better down here than up in the Crow’s Nest. The mast, at that thought, groans loudly under the push of the wind. Your boots slip, and you stagger back as you try to haul the sails back to the position — behind you, Gibbs is braced.

Your hands are bleeding.

Lightning cracks close, and you try to breathe.

“BRACE!” suddenly comes the hard call of Gibbs in your ear — but it’s neither too late nor too soon, it’s simply not enough.

The rogue wave hits the Pearl hard.

You hit the deck harder.

In a tumble of limbs and shrieks and pain, you’re rolled violently towards port — and as you gasp hard to try and get up again, you’re slammed with another cold shock of seawater. It seizes up your lungs.

It’s a whirlwind of panic that seizes you the second your back slams against the port siding. It’s water and wind and thunder and the dizzying confusion of pain crawling up your temple — and then, it’s James.

James is there.

James is there, wild-eyed and soaked and holding your face in his hands as he’s shouting something — but your ears are ringing and you’re trying to see his mouth in the downpour.

Then, just like that, the world swims back into focus.

“GET BELOW DECK.”

All you can do is nod.

He helps you, with a bruising grip, towards the lower deck’s hold — water is pooling down here, up to your ankles, and it sways and rocks with each pitch the Pearl takes. Your knees wobble as you descend, and you spare James a single, long look back as he slams the deck door’s shut with a rattle.

The animals one level down are panicked.

There are a few souls down here — most nursing injuries, some praying.

Your stomach tumbles as the ship lurches again and you stagger into a bunk on the wall. Your hands grip the ladder tightly, and it’s then that you realize you’re still bleeding. You haul yourself up, muscles still burning, into a vacant top bunk. It’s nearly dry here — but the noise of the storm and creak of the ship’s bones does little to bring comfort.

Your head is pounding.

And so you stay there, in the lonesome dark, and try to remember the quiet psalm some tired soul is whispering into a rosary. A sailor’s prayer.

Slowly, as time creeps a half past the hour, the violence of the storm begins to subside — and on the seventeenth repetition of the prayer, sunlight begins to peek through the slats in the deck overhead.

You’ve turned your eyes to marvel at the warm rays pooling into the water that has gathered below deck. Little flickers of light dance around the space — and it’s almost heavenly. Peaceful. Quiet.

Then, James.

He’s fast to make his way to you — as the rest of the crew dwindles down, wrought with exhaustion and pain. His hands are as bloody and spent as yours; torn to shreds from the coarse ropes. And still, despite this, his touch is so gentle you swear you could cry.

“Are you alright?” he asks, in a desperate whisper, as his hand finds your knee and he gestures for you to come down from the bunk.

Your nod is far from convincing.

Truth be told, you’re off. Dizzy and confused and your entire back aches. Your ribs protest with each breath.

James sees it.

He’s gentle — and suddenly, so gentlemanly — when he slips his hands beneath your arms and gently helps you down from the bunk.

You slip down his front, hands tangled around his shoulders.

The act is enough to wind you.

You plant your forehead against the sopping wet cloth of his jacket.

This moment is enough; it placates the yearning you’ve stoked for years. It’s horrible in that way — that you’re allowed this now, after so long. After so much. But, James doesn’t pull away.

Instead, his hands slip to push matted tendrils from your temple.

Worry is heavy in his deep voice. “You’re bleeding.”

You’re exhausted.

And so is he.

What he’d give to collapse into his own bunk now — to sleep for a day, or maybe more. But, his heart won’t let him. Not when you’re here, and when he... when he almost thought he could have lost you.

...But, truly, he never really had you to lose.

Nor you him.

And maybe that’s the poetic part of all this.

Suddenly, Elizabeth is calling your name from atop the deck.

You slip away, hands brushing his chest as you do.

His hands trace your arms, and you’re gone.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You have no idea where you are.

All that matters — however — is that the Pearl is docked, your feet are firmly planted on land, and you’ve got a warm helping of food in your stomach.

The crew needed this after that storm.

You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, and loosen your grip on the bottle in your hands. It’s rum — cheap rum. But, to the dear Captain’s point: rum is rum is rum. You watch him, and Gibbs, and Elizabeth, and Marty converse about something with animated intent.

From across the crowded tavern, Lizzy offers a smile.

You honor it with a commemorative swig.

The bar is busy — working girls flit in and out with men on their arms, venturing upstairs for privacy. There are card games between tables, a fight in the back alley, and music blaring loudly from the corner. All in all, for being a small little port in the middle of nowhere, it’s good business.

Not very quiet, though.

James, all the while, is trying to ignore the gnaw of yearning the sight of you brings.

He’s staring — openly, now — from his position on the balcony. His own bottle is nearly half-gone. He’s by his lonesome up here, pestered every now and again by a woman or two promising a lovely evening. But, each time, he passes. And each time, his gaze lands back on you.

Had he been so stupid?

Had he been so damn blind?

He could have had you — you, beautiful and witty and charming and sharp. You, kind and gentle, as devoted as the sun is to the moon. He could have had friendship and love and all the things touted in a marriage.

But, no. He couldn’t have Elizabeth. And so, he went and he left and he fell apart at sea. He lost what he was, and drowned the man he used to be.

Sea-green eyes watch you stand from your table. You shrug on your rifle, drop your hat atop your head, and toss a few coins down for the barmaid.

So, James swigs the rest of his drink and follows.

The port is quieter — but still, the noise from the tavern bleeds into the town’s night air. Here, with music droning on as the waves lap at the dock, you find a bit of peace.

“Mind if I join you...?”

You turn, eyes pulled away from the moon.

James’ eyes are soft.

You give him a consenting nod.

It gives you a moment to take him in.

The two days in port have done him some good. He’s washed up, taken a bath, even shaved. But, the shadow of a beard has already begun to creep back along his sharp jaw. His hair is long, swept neatly away, and a few stray strands move in the cool breeze. His hands hang on his belt, loose and easy.

He’s always been tall — imposing. Very handsome. Even in that god-awful wig.

You remember that sandalwood cologne he favored back in Port Royal. Clean. Warm. Pervasive. Expensive. The sort of thing the salary of a Commodore could allow for.

Now, he smells like gun powder and rum.

His arm brushes yours as he sidles up beside you on the dock.

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone.”

Your eyes flick up to see him watching you — and you see humor there in his eyes.

You scoff. “Come to save me, have you? Once a dashing officer of the King’s navy, always one.”

His face twists into a bitter scowl. Like he tasted something sour. “I am inclined to disagree.”

You nudge him with your arm. “Fine. I amend everything from that previous statement, up to and not including the dashing part.”

For the first time in years, you hear him laugh.

Truly laugh. A real, low, thunderous chuckle creeps from his chest as he ducks his head and smiles.

It spurs you to muster your own laughter. You try to tamp it down, to keep it quiet and easy and light. The smile that digs into your cheeks intends to remain. The ache there is sweet.

He’s watching you again.

This time, you feel as though... as though this sort of look is different.

When he speaks, his voice is tender. His words are as sweet as a summer breeze.

“...I’ve made many mistakes in my life,” he begins, “But, I now believe forsaking you may have been my biggest.”

And it feels as if someone’s plunged a knife into your chest.

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. How could you have ever been prepared for that? In a thousand, heartbroken, lonely years, you never imagined you’d feel the returned affection of the man before you. And yet, here he is, bending to take your rope-burnt hands into his own.

“I am sorry.”

And again — and again, and again. The knife is twisted, and suddenly you feel months' worth of agony rush up. Words whispered between men at the docks, the HMS Dauntless was lost on the coast of Tripoli. That Commodore Norrington was declared lost at sea. He had left with barely a word. Hellbent and heartbroken.

You never imagined an apology.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles and your swallow roughly.

“James—”

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your cheek.

“Do not protest this,” he says quietly, “You know it is what you deserve. After all I’ve done.”

You’re shaking your head when his thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone. It’s enough to make your head spin. You find both hands clinging to his own now as you shake off the dizzying thought of him in your space.

You feel like a girl again.

“You had a duty—”

“To you,” he corrects sternly; his eyes are set in a serious manner, framed by dark brows that pull taught as he brushes his fingers against a stray lock by your ear, “And I should have seen that. And I didn’t.”

It’s then that you finally look up at him.

It’s his turn to be robbed of breath.

You speak quietly.

“...You’re a good man, James.”

“You need not lie to me,” he whispers back, the space between you both enough to send the moonlight spilling over your entwined shadows.

“I would never,” you insist, your hands moving to brace flat against his chest. Your thumb brushes a bare patch of skin just along his sternum. He feels as if he’s been set on fire.

“Then, tell me,” James breathes as his nose nudges yours, “Would you allow me this?”

His eyes flick to your mouth.

All you can muster is a nod.

And then he kisses you.

His fingers hold your chin, and the kiss is as chaste and gentle as any — it’s slow and kind and warm. It’s punctuated by a deep breath as you both sink into the feeling of one another’s hold.

He... He feels hale and whole.

In a thousand, heartbroken, lonely years, you never imagined you’d feel his lips against your own. And yet, here he is, bending to break your composure with a hand that ventures around your waist. His other cradles your jaw. You cling, and allow the chasteness to dissipate into a feverish sort of chase.

It’s your tug on his lapels, the bunched grip of your shirt, the stagger of boots against the deck as he bends at the knee and nips at your bottom lip. Your arms swim around his neck, and you try to kiss him like you’re not halfway to the depths of love.

You’ve tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, leaped onto the tips of your boots, and allowed for his hands to grip the curves of your waist tightly as he hides a desperate kiss into your smile.

And then, a voice.

“’Bout time, I’d reckon.”

Captain Jack Sparrow — in all his glory — stumbles by.

And James Norrington has to try not to kill him then and there.

[callmejod]

I have a headcanon request: James Norrington x Pirate!Reader.

How would he feel about them being a pirate? How would the relationship pan out? In an alternative world where he lives, would he still be part of the navy or would he completely side with the pirates? What would the reader think of him being a part of the Navy? Would they consider giving up their pirate life to be with him?

Thank you :)

Buckle up - this can of brainworms just exploded.

I think living with pirates and experiencing their life and lifestyle shed a new light for James. He'd be more mindful of what causes people to turn to piracy and if given oppurtunity - tries to help.

After all, in both DMC and AWE he did commit piracy in order to become an Admiral at the hands of Beckett.

If the only thing in the AU that changed was his death, I think James wouldn't even entertain the idea of coming back to the Royal Navy - not after all of Becketts dirty tricks would've been exposed.

If it comes to Pirate!reader and James' relationship.....

I want them to meet between The Curse and DMC.

You would probably meet on Tortuga or something life that.

Maybe even when Jack gets him onto the Pearl and then maybe just dumps him with you when you meet at some rundown port in the middle of nowhere.

That would be delicious.

Taking you are the captain, an extra pair of hands is always welcome. Jack probably conveniently did not mention, that the blackout drunk sailor he was bestowing upon you was in fact The James Norrington. No no. You have to find out yourself.

'What's you name son?'

When he finally wakes gets woken up with a cold seawater bucket to the face courtsy of first officer you do what any sane captain would do -

'Dont fuckin- - call me son.'

'Oof he has bite to his bark gentlemen......'

After a good chow and a hissy fit you get to actually talk to him.

What kinda ticks him off is your kindness towards him - taking things slow with the hangover that you ensured wouldn't get worse, not coldly demanding him to do everything he should be doing.

You get a minute to talk to each other in private and he just presents himself as James, scared you'll do something terrible, torture him for what he's done, even kill him.

He knows thinks he deserves it.

'Just James huh? Alright "Just James", what drove you to the sea?'

Gets surprised when you don’t press further on his identity. He works on your ship quite well actually - he's well versed in many things. A week later you try prying more information from him.

'A stupid expectation and even stupider decisions.'

'Damn, you sailors always come up with the same story huh.

He can feel the cold sweat at your words.

Even if he was ex- Navy - you started to harbour a crush on the guy. He's really charming when he wants to be and can spot a British ship from miles away. His knowledge of the sea is impressive. Many-a-time had he pulled you out of hot shit you were about to get yourelf in.

You knew. Of course you knew. You recognised him the moment he got on your ship. Stood with his back too straight for being so drunk. Almost saluted when first officer "woke him up". Carried himself with an aura of an old, tired soldier.

In a drunken moment at port he tells you his full name and makes peace that he's staying back. He then wakes up on the ship and almost cries.

And he has those eyes..... that seafoam you would willingly drown yourself in. And a great ass? The package is a perfect fit for you.

He then realises that your kindness for him may have awakened a feeling he long forsaken - love.

*two dense motherfuckers in a room*

*the crew collectively suffers when looking at you two lovesick fools who believe the other is too good to be with them.*

As time goes on, you continue to floor James with both your wit and bravery. You do not charge into battle unprepared or without good reason.

Over the months spent together your realtionship with James improves to the point he reveals a little of his life in Port Royal and how he sometimes wishes he could go back there. It breaks your heart but you bite your tounge. After all - he smiled so sweetly when he told you he found a new home on your ship, with the crew, with you.

And then DMC happens.

James deals with Beckett that with your help he will get Jacks compass. The plan is set to save you and your crew. God, he would throw himself off a cliff if he didn't donanything in his power to save your life - he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant you were free from the East Indian Company.

'You. MY CREW GAVE YOU A HOME ON OUR SHIP ! THEY GAVE YOU A CHANCE TO BE FREE ! THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY THEM ?!'

Oh the anguish I feel when your ship gets captured by Beckett.

You are brought to the Lords' office and he offers you a deal. Your heart breaks when you see James there. You fall to your knees. He fucking feels the floor shake from the force of your fall. You pull on the chains, making two guards holding you almost stumble to keep you in place.

Hot tears are spilling from your eyes. Every one that falls twists a knife in his heart.

'Get them to agree or neither you, or them are leaving this port alive.'

You of course deny the deal but Beckett is no dumb. He saw how hard James tried to act neutral. When the guards drag you away somewhere Beckett gives James a pointed look.

On the way out he recieves a key. James knew exactly where to use it. He has never run as fast as he did to your cell.

Seeing you in those chains - nay - in such histeric tears makes him want to carve his heart out. The damp, smelly dungeon doesn't really help with making you look less miserable.

James grips the metal bars so hard his knuckles turn white.

'Please. Please let me explain.'

'There's nothing to explain. Admiral.'

The distant look you give him makes his blood run cold.

He forces the doors open fuck the key right? , bursts in and gathers you in his arms, despite your protests. You cry, wail, curse him. And he lets you.

Now he really desereved it.

All he can do is soothe you.

You give up on trying to pry him away from you. He just won't let go. He holds you like your're going to fall apart at any moment and frankly, your'e close to doing so. The feelings you so meticulously hid away surge to the surface and you can't help but relax into the warmth of his arms.

'I'm so, so sorry that it's come to this.'

'You're not sorry. You got your life back. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew my happily ever after wouldn't come. Especially not with you.'

You feel James freeze.

'Me?'

'Yeah, I never even intended to tell you but now that I'll probably hang by tommorow-'

'Your happy ever after - what does that mean?'

He moves so fast you barely register when he looked into your eyes for the truth and when he buried his face in your neck. You sit and listen to his heathing breaths, the thumping of his heart and wonder - is it stress or- Owwwww fucking hell out with it already - you think.

After a little you whisper :

'It means i love you James. And I hoped life wouldn't be so cruel to those who long for freedom.'

You feel something wetting your shirt. A full body sob jostles you.

It's James' turn to weep.

'You big baby, don't cry. We'll be alright.'

Leaving on a cliffhanger >>>>>>

I hope it's readable - I've last written fiction like 5 yrs ago.

9.4.24 I wrote it fast so there's probably some spelling issues, I'll look later k mbyeeeeeee

10.4.24 K, I've looked this through, added a few thingies

[justsomerandomfanfic]

You, Me, And The Seven Seas - James Norrington X Female Reader

Title: You, Me, And The Seven Seas

James Norrington X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Will (Mentioned), Jack (Mentioned), Elizabeth (Mentioned), Elizabeth's dad (Mentioned), Reader's family (Mentioned), James's father (Mentioned), and Barbossa (Mentioned)

WC: 2,967

Warnings: James's drunk, alcohol mentioned, awkwardness, previous engagement to Elizabeth mentioned, kidnapping mentioned, mention of killing (No killing written), anxiety, yelling, fighting (verbal), angst, friends to enemies to lovers, weapons mentioned, Reader wears obvious pirate attire, confessions, and huge fluff ending

You stood in the back corner of the Black Pearl's deck, arms crossed as you leaned against the ebony wood. You stared at James as he swayed and stumbled, standing near the edge of the ship; looking sick from all the alcohol he ingested. He looked awful. Brown hair messy and tangled, put into a ponytail on his head. Outfit in complete ruins, ripped and haggard. His skin, dirty of sweat and grime… He was no longer the Commodore he used to be. Nor was he the man you used to know. 

There was an off tension in the air, no one on the ship spoke. Or, more importantly, no one had spoken to James since he "joined" the crew. Not Will, not Jack, and not even Elizabeth. Which you found odd. You thought out of everyone, besides yourself, that she'd speak to him. 

Well, you couldn't really say anything. Since his arrival… You hadn't said a word to him either.

You wanted to say something… Anything. James had been your friend. A long time ago. You had met as children, spending most of your time together. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though, when you were younger you had been kidnapped by pirates. And with some sort of luck, they didn't kill you. The Captain, Barbossa, surprisingly had mercy, and trained you. 

For the next couple of years, you were trained in the ways of becoming a pirate. You had also gone through a lot, Barbossa became a sort of father figure for you, and even for a while, you, Barbossa, and the crew were trapped under a curse. But you much preferred it to your old life of a daughter of a nobleman; trapped with teas and dresses. The only thing you missed from your old life was your friend James. You missed talking to him… You missed his smile; his laugh.

And yet, here he was. Only a few feet from you and you were too scared to go over to him. He hadn't even realized you were there no doubt. And your mind was racing as to what he might say. Would he be happy to see you? Or the opposite? Would he even remember you?

But as your mind was racing with what he could say, it was also racing with insecurity. You had heard from your times at sea, with Jack, Will, and Elizabeth… That the man in question had been engaged or betrothed to Elizabeth for some time. When you had first heard of it, you felt faint. That was when you realized you were still in love with your old best friend. 

You wondered if James loved Elizabeth the way you loved him. If he truly cared for her as Will cared truly for her. You felt foolish for hoping he could possibly return your hidden feelings. You felt foolish for wanting the attention of the man, the man you hadn't seen in years.

Swallowing hard and gaining your courage, you pushed off the wall and walked over to him. Leaning against the wooden railing of the Pearl, you stared at James as he stared down at the water below. Seemingly too drunk to realize you were right there.

You bit your lip briefly, not really knowing what to say, "James."

The man snapped his gaze up to you, his eyes widening, his eyes looking over your figure before they narrowed slightly. "You're a pirate?" He asked, spatting in hatred at the word.

You tilted your head to the side, "No hello? It's been years, James."

He scoffed, looking back at the water, "It has been years. Years since you got up and left with no goodbye or explanation." 

You pursed your lips, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. "I didn't just get up and leave, James. I was captured by Barbossa and his men." 

He huffed, "How are you alive then? If you cared about our friendship at all, you would've come back." He lifted the rum in his hand to his lips, tilting his head back to take a large sip.

You sputtered out a breathy sigh, you knew he was drunk but this was ridiculous, "I was raised by them to become a pirate. Barbossa spared my life. So I am grateful. And you know how much I care about you and our friendship, if I could've I would've come back." You practically scolded him, as he turned to stare hard at you.

"Then why didn't you?" He asked and you opened your mouth, but closed it again, and that was all James had to see. "That's what I thought." He chugged more rum.

Growling softly, you glared at him as you grabbed the rum bottle from him abruptly, before tossing it over the side of the ship. James stared as the bottle splashed into the water, before sinking.

"Well, that's just a waste." He muttered, before swaying slightly again, almost losing his footing as the ship moved.

"Look at you," You continue to scold, "Drunk and washed out. What happened to the young boy who I used to know? What happened to you that made you so bitter hearted?"

James turned to look back at you, "You. You left and my life went on. Do you know how worried I was? I asked my father where you had gone and he never gave me an answer, telling me that you were a distraction from my education." He ranted angrily. “Good riddance.” He scoffed.

You threw your hands in the air slightly, "I couldn't help that I got captured! I was eleven, James!" He grunted and turned back to the water once more, making you cross your arms, "You're drunk. It's pointless speaking with you when you're like this. If you ever cared about our friendship at all, come find me when you're sober." 

Night fell upon the horizon, stars sprinkled the dark sky as the bright moon shines down upon you. You couldn't sleep. Not even a wink. Every time you tried to, you'd close your eyes and see James. Remembering your time with him. Running through gardens, sword fighting with sticks, watching the stars before your father called you back inside. You wished you could remember more of your childhood, but after so many years… It was becoming a blur of greens and blues. 

You almost felt guilty. You wished that you were able to see James grow up… And grow up along-side him. You wished you could've seen when he became Commodore, knowing that was a proud moment in his book. You could almost see it. Two rows of men with their swords pointed to the sky, creating a hall for him to walk through. Even though you hated the British Crown, you were proud of him nonetheless.

The moon seemed to smile down at you, but you couldn't smile back. Your hands gripped the ebony wood railing tightly as you stared at the dark waters below. Your mind ran with "what ifs" and what could've been. 

The stars, they reminded you so much of James. Possibly from all the times you stargazed together in your mother's garden, but you could almost remember, or visualize, how the stars reflected in his stormy eyes. It was foolish to think what you felt back then was love… But, you couldn't help but think it was. 

Hearing the soft creaks of the floorboards, you turned your head to find James. He stood there, almost awkwardly, as he looked anywhere but at you. It was silent, only the sound of the soft sea crashing against the ship made any noise. 

"I am sorry, Y/N." He finally spoke up, voice unsteady. You listened quietly, patiently. "What I had said to you was out of line."

You hummed, nodding. "I wish our reunion didn't start off as such." You pursed your lips as you stared up at the moon. "It wasn't what I had in mind."

"What did you have in mind?" James asked, coming to stand beside you, mimicking your stance with his hands on the railing.

"I don't know." You sighed tiredly. "I don't know what to think anymore."

It was silent once more as the two of you stared at the moon… Like you used to. There was an odd tension in the air between you too, but nonetheless it was peaceful. Almost relieving even. To know he was alive and by your side once more.

James worried on his bottom lip, side glancing at you briefly before looking back at the moon. He had missed you, there was no doubt about that, but he wished things were different. Looking over at you again, he watched as the moon's soft rays cast sweet shadows over your face, almost making your skin sparkle in its light. You were radiant; stunning. 

In his time without you, he thought of you often. He always wondered what happened to you. And he grieved for a long time before he got swept into his duties. He had always wondered, if you were alive, what you would look like. And his image of you didn't do you justice. You were an angel, a Goddess among me. If he had the chance, and you hadn't been captured, he would've married you.

He took notice of how your nose sloped, and your hair blew slightly in the soft breeze. You have changed since he lost you all those years ago. You weren't wearing those dresses -- wearing flowy trousers, a billowy blouse with puffy sleeves, and a thick corset. If anything, you screamed pirate. Something he was told to hate, track down, and capture… If not kill.

He felt terrible for what he had said to you, he felt terrible for his drunk ramblings. He was broken, hardly the man you once knew as a child. He wasn't as care-free anymore. Nor was he as caring. Growing up had changed him. Losing his rank had changed him. Becoming a pirate changed him.

Licking his lips, he opened his mouth to speak, "Remember when we used to dance, you used to stand on my feet?" He asked, voice thick and deep as he looked back at the moon.

"Yes…" You answered softly, smiling lightly at the thought. "I remember quite well."

"You had two left feet, if I remember correctly. Never knew how to dance properly." James spoke with a hint of a grin, as you giggled lightly; music to his ears. Out of everything, your laugh never changed.

"I still don't, well not really anyway. Ballroom dancing isn't really my forte." You laughed out breathily. 

James turned to you to raise an eyebrow, "You never learned?" He asked and you shook your head, turning to look at him in return.

"No time to really learn when you're out at sea." You shrugged, and James nodded slowly, pondering for a moment before he offered his hand to you. You looked at his hand, to his eyes and back. "James?"

"Dance with me. You said you never have time, why not now?" He asked, giving you a small smile as you stared at him in surprise. At your silence, he began to worry, "Just like old times?" He added, and you bit your lip, hesitantly placing your soft hand in his calloused one.

Pulling you closer to him, James placed his hand on your waist, his other holding your hand in the air beside you both. Your hand slipped over his tattered old uniform, resting on his shoulder. You looked into his eyes, seeing that he was already staring at you.

"James…" You began but he interrupted.

"Just follow my lead." He began, before giving you a small smirk, "Just don't step on my toes."

You bit your lip as you nodded your head slightly, "I'll try not to. But no promises." 

As James began to move, you stared down at your boots and his, trying to make sure not to mess up or step on his toes. Feeling his hand leave your waist, James placed his finger underneath your chin, raising your head to look at him. "Keep your eyes on me. Trust the beat."

You gulped lightly, "There is no beat. Nor any music." 

"Humor me, darling." You flushed at his endearment, as he placed his hand back on your waist. "Just look at me, and listen to the beat."

You listened, staring into his stormy eyes as you listened to the soft thumps of your boots against the wood. 

Daa da da. Daa da da. Daa da da.

You were entirely swept up in the dance, completely forgetting where you were, the world around you slipping away until it was only you and James. You had dreamed about this once. A long time ago. Dancing with the man before you, though in your head he was clean shaven and his hair and attire were not a mess. But, you didn't mind. This… This right here was far better than any dream you could possibly have.

James couldn't help but stare, letting his eyes rake over your features as you danced with him under the moonlight. He noticed the soft freckles that dotted your nose, and the way your lashes danced upon the apples of your cheeks. The nervousness you had felt and he had seen seemed to wash away, as you let yourself relax and smile. Breathtaking. He thought. Incredibly so.

You both slowed to a stop, your breathing only being slightly altered as you stared into his eyes. You felt so overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with the happiness and love you felt for James. 

"I haven't danced… I haven't danced since we were children." You confessed, voice only slightly above a whisper. 

"No one to dance with?" He asked, and you softly shook your head.

"No," You began, closing your eyes. "No… I could've had plenty of dance suitors." You felt your hand tighten in his as your hand on his shoulder fiddled with the color of his old uniform. "Only none of them were you."

James stood still, shocked by your statement; feeling his face and neck flush. You both stayed frozen in the dance stance, you feeling as embarrassed as you thought was possible, and James feeling as surprised and bewildered as he ever had been. 

"And I know I can't possibly have your heart." You muttered, shaking your head as you looked down. "I had seen the way you looked at Elizabeth and I had heard of your prior engagement."

James let out a sigh, dropping your hand which sent your heart to your stomach briefly before both of his hands cupped your cheeks, his calloused thumbs brushing across your cheeks. He stared down at you, his gaze piercing as he tried to think of what to say. And you stared back, desperately wanting something… Some sort of explanation.

"It is true. I was priorly engaged to Elizabeth. But that is in the past now. Our engagement was arranged by her father." He licked his lip, "And yes, I did have affection towards her." Your heart was barely afloat. "But she was never you." He confessed, surprising you this time as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "She never snuck off with me to a garden after tea time, she never stargazed with me past curfew, and she never had my heart. You stole it the moment I meant you.."

You sucked in a breath, heart beating rapidly in your chest. "What?" You breathed. He was silent for a short while before he smiled softly at you as he lowered his hands from your face. His fingers trailed down to your jawline, the tips of his thumbs brushing your bottom lip.

"I love you." He said, bringing his forehead close to yours. "I'm sorry for the pain and confusion I've caused you."

Your eyes widened, tears pooling at the corners. He loves me? He loves me?! You thought, blinking hard as you tried to fight back your feelings, but you were unsuccessful. "You love me..?" You whispered, as he closed his eyes and leaned forward, his warm lips meeting yours.

As you kissed back, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced. It was like fire. Like fireworks. Like the wind blowing through the trees as they danced with each other, their leaves rustling in the night sky as they twirled around each other and disappeared among the stars. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him as you moved your free hand up to stroke his bread-covered cheek. You were dizzy. You were intoxicated.

The kiss broke and you pulled apart, gasping slightly for air as you continued to stare into his blue eyes. He smiled at you, as your hand wandered his cheeks, stroking his beard gently; it tickled against your palm. His arms tightened around you and you lost yourself in the blissful euphoria of the moment. There was no more pain or sorrow between you. Just joy and adoration.

"I love you, adore you, darling," James whispered, leaning forwards to press his forehead against yours again, closing his eyes as he sighed happily. "More than words can express."

A tear fell from your eye as you buried your face into his chest. His arms wrapped securely around you as he rocked you gently, his hand stroking your back soothingly. "I love you too." You whispered quietly as you closed your eyes.

The warmth radiating off of his body brought you comfort and peace. You wanted to stay there forever; with him, in his arms. He rested his head on top of yours, listening to your soft breathing as he pulled you tighter to him, his nose pressing against your head, as you smiled to yourself. You would never let go. Never again.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hii!! Could you pls write a James Norrington x Swann!reader where the reader is Elizabeth’s older sister who loves/fancies James Norrington but he doesn’t know that she loves him so the reader pretends to pass out but he catches her and carries her to her bedroom and waits for her to wake up and the he finally tells her that he loves her too and they get married at the end. (You can add what you like) thank you 😊 :)

Hello dear💖, thanks for your request.

James Norrington x Swann reader⚔🦢

A reconsidered proposal👰

On this day was the ceremonial promotion of James Norrington, a man who served in the naval army for a long time. He served the Swann family. James was always by their side, he viewed us like family although—there was but one inharmonious part—the day the commodore had planned to propose to Elizabeth Swann. The commodore had always been close to Elizabeth although, before Elizabeth was born there was another, a girl who was bright and bold who had grown up with Norrington since they were younger. Y/n Swann. A fine woman who protected her sister from the beginning since the tragedy of their mother’s passing. The two sisters were opposites: one fantasying about pirates and the other fantasying of marriage. Y/n sided with her father and the commodore; she was set to be a lady. Though, since y/n was younger she had known the commodore more than Elizabeth. She had been their during his downfalls, worries and woes while spending her time making him fall high in laughter and joy. The commodore protected the family with honour and respect, the soon to be admiral will choose a betrothal to a fine woman.

Governor Swann had bid Elizabeth farewell to accept the commodores proposal. He turned to y/n wearing a gown with a fine layer of skirtings. She placed her hands together in a ladylike manner approaching her father. “Tis be quite a tremendous day y/n, Elizabeth will accept the commodores proposal and she will wed” Y/n’s father smiled.

“Indeed, though I can’t help but feel—rather—” y/n muttered although her father ended the sentence for her. “Happy for your sister’s occasion” he concluded.

The truth is, y/n didn’t exactly feel tremendous joy for her sister. It was hard to explain but, she had hoped the commodore would betroth her to his hand in marriage.

The Governor accompanied his daughter inside the manor, her heels clicked as she headed up the stairs into her bedroom. Only, at the door there was a knock. The servant opened the door to greet a commoner, he was smaller in height and his clothes weren’t of riches. His brown hair was tied back as his eyes were soft in expression. “Have you seen Elizabeth” the man asked. It was Will, the blacksmith. “No, Miss Swann had just left Sir, I suggest you leave your request with Governor Swann if you insist to visit her” the servant informed Will.

Y/n called out to Will “Blacksmith, I assume your work is going well?”.

Will turned his head up the stairs to see a woman in a dashing, fine silk gown. “Miss y/n, yes, indeed, I thought I would’ve caught Mrs Swann just in time”.

“Please Will, you know how many times Elizabeth told you to call her by her first name” y/n smiled kindly.

“Uh, yes but, perhaps there is a way you can pass my regards to Elizabeth for me” Will requested. “Certainly, Sir William” y/n politely curtsied.

Will was more acquainted with Elizabeth then y/n, the two had known each other since childhood. The blacksmiths past is rather a mystery, no one knew who or where he came from. The boy was caught adrift in a sea wreckage, he was taken in by a rather older gent who knew about the works of swords. Will had been accustomed to the family, every day he would pass by just to see Elizabeth. Their meetings were always rather short but, y/n knew, the blacksmith had feelings for her sister, even more, her sister had grown closer to the blacksmith. The commodore didn’t know, Liz always dismissed it. Will was a rather humble and kind gent, more than any other man y/n knew.

“I shall inform her once I see her, Sir William” y/n promised.

In the distance a carriage pulled up rather earlier than expected, out of the entry door, Elizabeth and the commodore climbed out. Y/n quickly rushed down the stairs, grabbing her skirtings to see what happened. “Elizabeth, dear God, what happened”. Elizabeth was dripping with water as her hair was soaking, the commodore accompanied her inside. “Get her warmed up and keep an eye on her” the commodore ordered the maid. “Yes sir” the maid helped Elizabeth to warm her up in any way she could. “Commodore, what happened, is Elizabeth alright” the Governor rushed out to find his daughter soaking wet.

“Indeed, we’ve just encountered a scoundrel, a pirate” the commodore informed y/n’s father.

“A pirate?” he questioned.

“Yes Sir, a no-good buccaneer of the seas, we gave chase and the pirate shall be set to hang” the commodore said proudly.

A pirate? A pirate? here in port royal? Oh no this is terrible news, if it weren’t for the navy, who knew what kinds of terrible things would’ve happened to poor Elizabeth. “I-I thank you commodore for saving my dear sister” y/n shyly showed her gratitude. “Fret not lady y/n, your sister is safe, we shall purge that pirate for his no-good deeds” the commodore stated.

Y/n fancied him, she always has, it was only a matter of time before she could tell him. “Commodore, I-“ y/n stuttered. James turned with curiosity, his face, holding a stern expression.

“I, I, I” y/n began to close her eyes as her body collapsed. James coming into action took y/n in his arms. “Y/n” the Governor had noticed his eldest daughter had fainted. The commodore informed her father that he will bring her up to her bedroom, even if it was inappropriate, he felt the need to protect the woman who had been there for him, for all those years. The commodore carried the woman’s body up the stairs into what looked like a white, elegant room. James placed y/n in her bed, he felt her forehead to make sure she wasn’t burning up whilst watching her chest move up and down. Now, it might’ve been selfish but, y/n hadn’t intended to use this action, rather, it was to gain the commodores attention. The bed was soft; the sheets made of cotton and silk; feathers filled the pillow. The commodore intently watched as y/n flickered her eyes open.

“Commodore, oh, forgive me” y/n muttered out.

“Lady y/n don’t burden your forgiveness on something you had no control of doing” James furrowed his brows. “I’m just glad your well” he addressed.

Y/n grabbed his hand, she wanted to tell him, all these years of growing together, spending time, and enjoying each other’s company. The commodore had always been protective of her and her sister. “I want to inform you of something—you see my mind was set on Elizabeth’s betrothal that, that I never knew” he paused.

“I had been paying my affections toward the wrong person” he looked into y/n’s eyes.

“Elizabeth is a fine woman but” James smiled. “You are, such a remarkable lady”.

“I must re-consider my proposal; would you wed me” James asked.

Y/n smiled as her eyes were full of happiness “Oh, James of course I will”.

Norrington smiled with genuine emotion, something he had only done when around her family. Y/n leaned forward from her bed, not caring if her hair was messy from the pillow. She leaned forward and embraced James in a kiss. He was caught off guard but leaned into it.

The commodore had potentially nearly made a mistake that caused him misery, he was engaged to y/n, a woman who had known him far longer. He had informed Governor Swann that his proposal was to be reconsidered, Mr Swann was rather hesitant thinking Elizabeth would be heart broken. However, she granted her blessings as she had fancied William.

On the middle hour, on the day of June, the commodore had awaited at the arch as many gathered. Y/n had said her vows as James spoke his and the rest you can say was history.

On this day, Y/n Swann was known as Y/n Norrington. The Commodores wife.

anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨

[imaginepirates]

An Unexpected Reunion

Essentially, this is a sort of sic-fic for an anon who wanted to see the reader look after James. After his stint in Tortuga, when he doesn't have the strength to care for himself, he ends up on the Pearl, and the reader helps him out. The two just so happen to be previously acquainted—the reader is a pirate James once had in custody. Mild angst ensues.

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official @hellspawn-brownies @groovy-lady @ghoulishbehaviour @wordsinwinters

~3k words

~~~~~~~

If you knew one thing about former Commodore James Norrington it was this: he did not know how to take a break. 

Even now, as you watched him struggle to keep upright, he didn’t quite seem to understand the disadvantage he was at. He wavered, leaning hard on the ship’s rail before trying to stand on his own. He convulsed a little, as if he might throw up, and though you wouldn’t have been surprised, a fresh wave of pity rolled over you. 

You had feared him, once. Done your best to keep out from under his iron grasp of the law. You’d failed, too. Other than Elizabeth, you were the person aboard the Pearl who knew him best. I knew his prison cells, too, you reminded yourself. 

He looked up at you, and you made eye-contact. There was a foggy recognition in his face, and you watched the gears in his head turn as he attempted to make sense of who you were. 

“Am I that hard to remember?” You walked toward him, hoping he wouldn’t fall on you. “I’m offended,” you teased. 

Norrington looked you over with disgust, as if he were in a position to do so. “I arrested you.”

“I’m flattered you recall.”

He frowned. “You escaped.

“I hope that’s not a sore spot?”

Norrington shot you a venomous glare, though there didn’t seem to be much actual hatred behind it. Oh, it had been one for the ages. The escape had been anything but easy, you’d give him that, and most of it had been the opportunity of chance, but you were one of the few, if perhaps the only, pirate to have escaped the young officer. You’d hoped never to see him again, to boast your tale without being  caught a second time. You’d even left the Caribbean for a time to evade him. Now Jack shared your fame, though on a technicality, you knew, and here poor Norrington had to put up with you both. 

You’d never expected to meet him again, and certainly not like this, brought so low. You hadn’t even known the world was capable of bringing a man like him to his knees. 

“You look like you just crawled out of a pigsty.” You frowned, hoping you weren’t right. 

Norrington smirked, an expression you’d never seen on the man, and it was not a particularly pleasant thing to see. “Sparrow employs from interesting places.”

You sighed. “At least let me help you not look like hell?”

“What would you care?” Norrington cast you a suspicious glance, though he let you wrap a stabilizing arm around his shoulders. 

“You didn’t let me look like shit when it was your ship I was on,” you mumbled, somewhat reluctantly. 

In truth, James Norrington had taken shockingly good, if not necessarily tender, care of you while you were his prisoner. It may have been humiliating at times; being ordered to wash, getting inspected by the ship’s surgeon, and having your hair shorn to prevent lice; but it had kept you healthy, and, in Norrington’s reasoning, kept you alive until your due time at the gallows. That, and rendering you incapable of getting his crew sick. Though you had cursed his name every day, you knew he hadn’t needed to go to such lengths. 

Surprise crossed the man’s face, but he said nothing. You helped him belowdecks to a rather empty store room, bracing him on the stairs to keep him upright. You left him a moment, returning with a basin of water, some cloth, and a comb, hoping that it might do something for his raggedy appearance. 

“The wig has to go.” 

James snatched it off his head, regarding the thought with reluctance. “It’s one of the last reminders of home.”

“Which is half the reason you need to get rid of it,” you said, tone softening. You took it from his hands, setting it out of sight. “It’ll only make you more miserable.” You pushed the coat off his shoulders as well; it was well overdue for a meeting with a washing board.

For a while, you stood in silence, James letting you wash his face with the cloth, trying to get mud out of his hairline. He scrubbed down his shins and forearms, rolling up tattered sleeves to expose newly tanned skin. There were scars there, too, old ones and new, and you remembered an occupation in the Navy was every bit as dangerous as piracy was. 

“You gave me one of those.” Norrington interrupted the silence, rubbing his thumb over a small scar on his left arm. “Capturing you wasn’t as easy as planned. You nearly gave me another, too, when you tried biting me.”

You laughed, taken aback. You’d forgotten about it—you lashed out at him when he made the surgeon wash and cut your hair. 

“It wasn’t funny,” he said, but he was smiling all the same. “I thought you were going to take off a finger.”

“Oh, I wanted to. I do hope you aren’t thinking of returning the favor.”

“Does this mean my hair is next?”

“It certainly does. I’m going to have to pull all manner of debris out of it, aren’t I? Maybe I should’ve grabbed gloves.”

James snorted. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

“I could say the same about you.” You moved to stand behind him where he sat on a barrel, taking the comb in your hands and gently teasing knots out of the ends of his hair. 

James’ voice sobered. “Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you have every reason to hate me. I held you as my captive, and when you escaped, I spent months trying to hunt you down. If you hadn’t managed to evade me, I would’ve been your ticket to the gallows. I might as well have been the noose around your neck myself.”

You sucked in a breath, unprepared for the question. Not that you hadn’t expected it. Why am I helping him? “You were doing your job, I was doing mine. I’m glad you failed.”

“That still doesn’t explain—”

“Look,” you interrupted. “I’d heard all the stories. When you’re a pirate, and you get arrested, the Navy does all sorts of things to you. You beat us, you maim us, you starve and strip and use us as entertainment. As long as we’re still alive to dance the hangman’s jig at the end, you can do whatever you want to us.” You’d stopped combing, and you could tell, despite the fact that you couldn’t see his face, Norrington was listening intently. “You could have done all sorts of things to me, or let your men have their way.” Your voice grew soft again. “The worst thing you did was cut off my hair. Turns out I had lice anyway, so I probably should’ve thanked you for it.”

James turned to look at you, mouth half open to say anything, but there wasn’t anything to say. His gaze returned to his boots, and you couldn’t help but notice the tightness in his jaw. 

You changed the subject. “How long has it been since you’ve kept a meal down?”

“Too long,” he grimaced. “I’m afraid the rum has done its job.”

“Do you want me to get you something? You can wash the rest of yourself while I’m away.”

James only nodded, but you took that as a good enough sign to go in search of food. Ships didn’t carry much fresh food, but if you could find bread without weevils in it, you might be able to keep him from throwing up. 

You raided the kitchen, tapping biscuits against the wall to loose any bugs that may have burrowed into them. Before you headed back, you rested against the wall, taking a few steadying breaths. You didn’t like talking about your captivity, and you could never fully justify taking care of him. He was right: he might as well have been the hangman and the noose. 

“How’s the former Commodore?” Jack stood in front of you, teasing expression firmly in place. 

“Much better now that I���ve tossed the wig.”

Jack made a face at the mention of the wig. He’d made more than a few comments about how ‘that damned Commodore would be far more handsome without the stupid thing’. “I’m thinking about tossing him out entirely.”

“Jack.” You crossed your arms. 

“What?”

“Why did you agree to let him on, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t say I agreed, love. Agreements aren’t made at gunpoint.”

Norrington still wants him dead, then. “And yet he hasn’t gone through with it.”

Jack shrugged, as if he hadn’t given the matter much thought. You knew better, of course. He turned to leave, but not before throwing a comment over his shoulder. “He’s not a killer.”

By the time you got back to James, he had his hair mostly untangled and was struggling to find a way to keep it out of his face. You stepped in, handing him the bread and braiding his hair back with practiced fingers. There was a weight to the action, and you felt it acutely, twisting strands of long, damp hair together, surprised by its length, wondering how Norrington could’ve kept it tucked under his wig like this, and you knew he felt it too. 

“Eat,” you told him. “And try not to puke on me.”

He stuck the bread skeptically in his mouth, as if expecting it to taste like the bottom of a muddy boot. It was somewhat awkward to watch him, but you were right to keep your focus on him; it wasn’t long before he had his eyes closed against an obvious wave of nausea. You placed a hand on his back, rubbing his shoulder gently in hopes that it might distract him. 

“I must seem pathetic like this.”

“You’ve seen me pretty low, too, so I can hardly judge.” James scoffed, but didn’t pull away from your touch. 

“At least you had it in you to escape. Which,” he turned to you, eyebrows raised, “you never have explained to me.”

“Has that been bothering you all these years?” You couldn’t help but feel somewhat smug, knowing you got the best of a man who was, by all means, smarter than you, and who’d had many more resources on hand. 

“Obviously,” he drawled, though he seemed more amused than embarrassed.

“Well, it was mostly luck. You had me locked up pretty tight.” That was an understatement. Beyond the obvious fact that you’d been behind bars, thick ones at that, there were two guards posted outside the brig at all times. Not to mention the leagues between you and any sign of shore. You may have been a fairly good pirate, but those were bad odds. 

It had been the mailing ship, in the end, that had been your key to salvation. “I’ll forever be thankful that your holding cells had—and still have—one major flaw, not that I’m telling you what it is.” At James look of annoyance, you smiled. “Sorry. Old habits and all that.” Half pin-barrel hinges, you thought to yourself before continuing. “I also, through virtue of talking marines, knew the mail carrier had shown up. It gave me just the blossom of hope, and the opportunity, I needed.”

The door guards reduced from two to one as one of them headed off, presumably in the direction of mail. And why should they have worried? You hadn’t been able to cause any trouble, even when you were taken out of your cell for inspection by the ship’s surgeon. So that left you with one marine to deal with, and one iron door to pop off its hinges, which you did with the conveniently placed bench inside your cell. 

The clattering of the door got the marine running into the room, leaving the door to the brig wide open for your escape. All it took was an elbow to the gut and a knee to the face and the poor man was on the ground. You’d almost felt bad about it. Almost. But you saved your pity and ran like hell, scurrying up to one of the gun decks before anyone knew you were missing. 

“Then came the tricky part,” you mused. “I had to jump out of a gun port without anyone noticing, then scramble onto the mail carrier somehow. By all accounts it shouldn’t have worked.” But something had happened on deck which caught quite a bit of attention, and you were left to plop into the ocean below. “I’d never been so happy to be swimming in my life. I made it onto one of the lower decks of the other ship, through another gunport, and hid in a storage room until it reached St. Augustine.”

James grimaced. “You have no idea the strings I had to pull to get my men into that city.”

You shrugged. St. Augustine was a Spanish city, and you had no doubt tensions between Norrington and the city officials had run high. “I was already out by then. Seems those strings weren’t pulled fast enough.”

“No.” Your hand still sat on his back, though he’d managed to finish the bread. A light sheen of sweat dotted his forehead, a symptom you’d known to expect from an alcoholic, and you reached for the washcloth to wipe it away. “What if they had been?” His tone took on a miserable note.

You wiped the cloth across his face, your free hand gently holding the side of his head still. “Then you would have caught me, and I would be dead.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Should it?” You moved to the back of his neck, where sweat had begun to run into his shirt collar. “We led lives that were diametrically opposed. We both knew what that meant. I ran that risk willingly.”

You continued with the cloth, never dropping the hand from his head, and though it may have been your imagination, he seemed to lean into the touch. You wondered how long it had been since anyone had shown him a hint of tenderness—since before his arrival in Tortuga? Longer?

James changed the subject. “Once you’re done making sure I’m not puking on myself, what do you plan to do with me?”

“Do with you?” You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t plan to do anything with you—or to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You didn’t miss the flush that crept up his neck at your teasing. You found it kind of sweet, if anything, that he continued to have the bashful streak Elizabeth had told you so much about. “I hope you’ll consider staying around more than a week so I can get to know you better, though.”

“You do?” He turned to you, his surprise genuine. It hurt you a little to see, but you supposed it was to be expected. If your roles were reversed, would he be saying the same?

“You’ve been given a unique opportunity, Ex-Commodore. You have the chance to start over with a group of people who don’t particularly like you, and you have the chance to make a home with them. We can be a close-knit group, you know, us pirates.” You smiled. “I’d take that chance if I were you.”

“I’m not sure I have much of a choice. The admiralty wants my head.”

“Better give them a good reason for it, then.”

James laughed at that, and some of the heaviness in the air dissipated. He looked markedly better now that he’d relaxed and some of the color had returned to his face. He could even be handsome, you supposed. You hadn’t let yourself think of it during your capture, though he had looked dashing in that uniform, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you heard multiple women had eyed him with eager interest back in Port Royal.

He’d been a different man then. You couldn’t help the serious tone that crept into your voice as you spoke. “You’ll take better care of yourself after this, yes?”

He sighed. “I don’t suppose I have much of a choice in that, either. I can’t really make things worse.”

The words did nothing to assure you. “You owe it to yourself, you know.” Your hand had fallen from his face, but you placed it there again, drawing his eyes to yours. “No matter what happens to you, no matter how low you think you’ve gotten, you still deserve your own care.”

James looked too lost for words, instead turning away shyly with no little amount of shame. 

“Hey,” you softened your voice. “You’ll learn. Here, with us. Most of the crew have spent their entire lives looking out for themselves. And we’re the lowest of the low; the poorest, the drunkest, the most battered and beaten and worn. We still take care of ourselves, even when we sometimes wash up in the brig of a Naval ship. We’ll teach you how to quit carrying shame.”

James looked back up at you, nodding. He kept your hand in place with one of his, callouses from his palm brushing against your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair with your other hand, gently carding through dark tresses, and when he closed his eyes, you could feel him suppressing tears. 

He took a steadying breath, bracing himself before he could open his eyes. “Thank you. For all of this. I hope I can repay you for it, someday.”

“Given the shitty circumstances under which we tend to look after each other, let’s hope not, actually.”

He smiled wearily, and you moved to sit on a barrel across from him. The voyage ahead was long and likely not without its dangers, and having Norrington as a friend through it all didn’t seem like a terrible prospect.

As you talked on, sharing stories as sailors did, you knew he’d make it. Of course he would. A man who had the dedication to chase you across the Caribbean for months had it in him to live with you for a few weeks. You’d already survived each other once. 

[profeyandere]

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐍. ─── ☾ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

Masterlist || Pirates of the Caribbean Masterlist || Wattpad

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: James Norrington x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, death mentions and unrequited love

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

The dull sound of metal striking the strong, rickety wood of the Dutchman made Norrington, still gawking at Elizabeth's falling form into the sea as the whisper of the shot slowly dissipated in the air, turned the other way to find himself with the strong back that belonged to you, being able to easily see how most of your muscles were flexing to maintain your defensive posture and thus keep him safe from the sudden attack it couldn't have been stopped by one of David Jones's sailors. The ex-commodore was stunned because, although he did not remember having seen you in Elizabeth's crew, he swore to have distinguished the strong flash of your eyes among the shadows of the ship that now belonged to his former love.

You, thanks to your espionage and concealment skills, had been able to sneak onto Sao Feng's pirate ship, watching and listening from the shadows for anything that was of special interest to you, barely being able to make out anything he was saying to Elizabeth, but discovering how he made her captain of the ship that had been under his command for decades and made her the owner of one of the eight coins necessary for the Brotherhood. As part of that select group, you couldn't help but be confused for a brief moment, but you saw in Swann a pirate like any of you could be.

Returning to the subject of how you had been able to reach the Flying Dutchman, all you had to say was that you appreciated the speed with which you moved and the innate balance that had allowed you to cross the long ropes that linked both ships without making a small threat of fall

"What are you doing here?" James asked with some fear. In his voice, you could feel that state of nervousness that the situation in which you were involved had caused him.

"Save your life," you answered, snorting and taking all the air you could to regain the strength that you were gradually exerting to win the fight in which you had gotten involved with the sailor.

You felt the sweat trickling down your forehead, encrusting your brows to prevent the drops from falling into your eyes, while your calloused hands gripped the handle of your short sword, which, being more than a decade old, had been the only weapon you had. It had truly given you the confidence to take on some of the most feared pirates in the Caribbean and the stormiest seas in the world. The adrenaline had been the icing on your little cake because, although you had started to run like a rag through the thick ropes between the two ships, you had not realized how serious the situation was until you had seen the father of Will Turner, already eaten away by the curse of the octopus man, trying to attack the man who, from an early age, had made your heart beat a thousand per hour; James could be many things, he had even disappointed you greatly when he had given the heart of David Jones to the disgusting aristocrat who had martyred pirate minds so much, but the one who backed down and thought better about his actions to try to amend his mistakes, was what truly he impressed you and made you act on his behalf.

The fact that you had come between him and death had been a mere matter of luck and the work of your badly wounded heart.

The simple fact of remembering the brief kiss that he and Elizabeth had shared made you draw more strength from yourself to be able to separate the sailor from you, being able to free your sword from the prison that had been the enormous wooden stake, causing the pirate took a couple of steps back and there was a small space between you. A sigh left your lips, but you quickly felt the lack of air present when you saw yourself surrounded by several pirates belonging to Jones's crew.

"Back to back, James," you ordered seriously and in a lower tone than usual, feeling a soft weight on your back after a few seconds. "I can't believe I am going to die like this."

"I still don't understand how you got here," the admiral muttered as he exchanged glances with the monsters who were the Dutchman's crew. "At what point did you think it was a good idea to follow Elizabeth or cross that stretch of sea to come here? You have condemned yourself to certain death."

But, what James was not aware of, was that Jones always left a survivor.

"It seemed like a good idea to me the moment I found out she'd been captured," you explained. "She might have been already dead but, knowing that you were in a certain way in charge of the Dutchman, I knew that you would protect her and avoid such a cruel fate."

Norrington couldn't help but frown at your words for, while they were sweet because of the obvious feeling he harboured for Miss Swann, they had come out of your mouth as if you had tasted the most disgusting morsel in the whole world and, it was not to be least, because the love triangle that had formed between the three had been so notorious that even Jack Sparrow had joked with you about it and Elizabeth had not tried anything more than to guide James towards you to see if he could see your sweet and friendly interior. You had tried, and you had not won the battle to win James's heart and, like a good loser, you had accepted defeat at the hands of the blonde.

"And was it worth it?" Norrington questioned. "She made it out alive and now we're stuck against a rock and a hard place."

"It was completely worth it, Commodore," you stated with a certain mockery, smiling slyly and leaning slightly forward to prepare yourself for the attack. "You're still alive, so it's been worth something to get here."

James wanted to correct the title with which you had mentioned him, but it was the sudden presence of the captain of the pirate ship that made both of you completely stunned. There wasn't much surprise on the admiral's part, but you couldn't help but smile at Jones as soon as you saw him appear due to the nerves you felt, well, with the surprise and how intimidated you were to finally meet that legendary pirate, you face was distorted until making a grimace of happiness that was too strange for those present; for a moment they had thought that he could have given you some type of cerebral infarction and for that reason, you had shown yourself that way.

"You're smiling?" Norrington questioned in surprise. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Don't blame me," you answered, still smiling, "it's because of my nerves."

"Your reaction is fascinating to me," the captain commented, moving closer to you until his huge body covered in marine elements was inches from yours. "Can someone explain to me why neither of them is dead?"

"Her," Bill stated, raising his barnacle-strewn hand to point at you, causing you to suddenly shrug to take the blame that he hadn't done his job properly. "She has crossed through the ropes and prevented me from following your orders, our Captain."

David Jones's face resolutely showed a look of confusion, perhaps fused with irritation, and he didn't hesitate long before meeting your gaze with his, trying to search deep within you for the reason why you would commit such a heroic act when one pirate would have let another die; if you had been like him, perhaps you would have helped Elizabeth to have someone on your side, but he did not understand why you had prevented the death of Norrington, one of the main enemies of the pirates.

The half-animal man bent down to be at your height and to be able to make eye contact with your flashing eyes that, illuminated by nerves and anger, did not match the bright smile you showed him, in which your teeth were the main character. Perhaps, he did not fully understand why you acted, but it was not until you unconsciously moved your right hand towards the admiral so that he would remain still in his position that he understood the desires that had led you to act that way.

"Love, huh?" Jones spoke, confusing his entire crew and causing your smile to begin to diminish until your lips were completely united forming a straight line and thus a serious grimace was shown on your face.

James, at that moment, felt upset because, despite having heard the captain's words, he did not understand their meaning. He didn't know what he meant by what he said and it wasn't until he noticed how his body slowly relaxed little by little that the pieces of the huge puzzle that had been forming in his mind didn't fit together.

The two of you had known each other since before he travelled to Port Royal with Governor Swann and his young daughter, you had found him interesting and had too much fun bothering him, so you quickly saw yourself as number one on his list of pirates to capture. Your slippery skills had gotten you off the gallows more times than he cared to remember, and you had always taken something of his with you that, while not of much use, caused him a great deal of irritation. Of course, once he became a commodore and was involved in the adventures of Jack Sparrow, he had much more contact with you when he was forced to work with pirates to rescue his beloved Elizabeth, which greatly increased your teasing and affection for him. to this day.

In a second he managed to understand that your taunts, your little plundering in England and Port Royal, together with your inconsiderate taunts towards him and the British army, were nothing more than a way to get his attention and be with him. That had been one of your ways of making him understand that you loved him. Your kindness when he was part of the crew of the Black Pearl, how you had gone to the trouble to feed him properly and detox from the rum, as well as taking care of his hygiene when no one else had seemed interested in it even if it stank the whole ship, made him see that all that was what you could offer him if at some point you declared yourself. It had been a pity not to have made sure of it beforehand because, as much as it hurt him to tell you now, it was too late for it and not precisely because death was an inch away from both of them.

But because his heart already belonged to another woman.

"Are you so surprised to meet a pirate in love?" you asked defensively, frowning and gripping the sword handle tightly. "I seem to remember that you had the same feeling for a woman that caused you to tear out your heart."

"I'm not going to deny the obvious, my dear," he said mockingly, straightening up so he could look at the admiral. "But he didn't expect it to be a sentiment that could be evoked towards a Royal Navy Admiral, much less if he works for the East India Company."

"It's not a matter of choosing the person," you murmured, sighing. "I wish we could choose who to fall in love with to avoid suffering, don't you think, captain?"

The tone with which you had addressed him, spitting out his title as if it were disgusting, ended up irritating him.

"Are your feelings unrequited?" He questioned, shifting his gaze to the man who was behind you and who seemed so shocked that he seemed to have suffered some kind of shock that had prevented even the movement of his eyes, causing the simple look they directed was enough for Jones. "He doesn't love you, and that's why you've come to my ship, to take his place in my crew."

"I perfectly remember that your crew member's decision was not that," you mentioned. You always leave a survivor, don't you? Asked. "Let him go and I'll take his place."

Suddenly, a strong hand on your shoulder made you take a couple of steps back until you were next to Norrington, who with his eyes seemed to ask for one last moment before the final decision was made. Your eyes met and, although it was obvious that you did not need words to communicate, it was obvious the discussion wanted to start with your sudden courage.

"Are you crazy?" He asked seriously, gently squeezing your shoulder. "You can not do that."

"Why not James?" You questioned back, surprising him by the sudden use of his name for the first time. "I have nothing to hold on to in this life and you still have so much to live for."

"What life am I going to have now?" he questioned. "I will never be forgiven for all the crimes I have committed, and while a pardon will not absolve me of them, at least you could continue your life calmly as if nothing had happened."

"If you die, don't hesitate to think that he would fight against everyone present to avenge you," you indicated, sighing one last time before surreptitiously placing your real eight in the pocket of his vest. "I love you and seeing you die would be my downfall, respect at least my last wish."

"James!"

Elizabeth's deafening scream made the name turn around, panicking at the thought that something bad was happening to him, and it was then that you decided to push him overboard so that he would have a chance to escape so that he could speak for you in that great meeting in which the pirate lords would be the protagonists and thus ensure that the pirates could live in peace and harmony after joining forces and defeating Lord Beckett.

James, who fell from a considerable height, plunged into the water once he had been pushed into it, emerging from the turbulent waters to find himself in the worst scene he could imagine in his entire life. Before he would have tried by all means to kill you, put a rope around your neck and end the suffering that pirates like you caused in the population, but now he felt a huge wave of nausea when he watched your body being mercilessly impaled with your sword; the only thing that the admiral could hear in the background was the scream of Elizabeth who, terrified by the scene that was happening before her, had not been able to do anything but scream your name with sadness and anger.

Norrington watched as the huge figure of Jones seemed to approach the edge of his great ship and, unceremoniously lifting your body to the outside of the ship, drew your sword, causing you to fall into the sea like a rag doll, just as he had done it a couple of seconds ago. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you had fallen relatively close to him, so he quickly submerged himself in the water in search of your body to be able to rescue it and to be able to heal the wounds that the bloodthirsty pirate had caused you, who was surely laughing at his cowardly feat.

You found yourself semi-conscious and, although you tried to move your arms and legs in search of propelling your body towards the surface to look for air, you found that they did not respond because of the great loss of blood that you were suffering at times. You did not make sure of the huge wound that was in your belly, somehow the seawater managed to mitigate the pain you felt, and it wasn't until you spotted a dark figure trying to approach you that you finally remembered the reason you were sinking into the sea.

Your beloved James Norrington would live, perhaps not a dream life, but one full of love and adventure that would not have any element sad enough to destroy his good person of him.

A slight spasm ran through your body and you stopped thinking about the moment you felt a strong burning in your belly, although that stinging was unbearable, you knew that it would never compare to the pain of your broken heart.

[misshiraethsworld]

CURSE OF THE RUBY ━ james norrington ⎈

you are cursed lass

THE RAREST TREASURE TALE read here: wattpad

tag family: @arrthurpendragon, @eddysocs, @darth-caillic, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @kmc1989, @ocappreciation, @ocs-supporting-ocs if you want to be added to my family, all you have to do is ask!

[demigoddessqueens]

Imagining an AU where James lives….

But I can easily imagine a scenario where Norrington and his s/o are like that Victorian couple who break face and laugh while trying to hold still for a portrait

(He’d have the cutest smile 😁)

[madhatterbri]

You Again | J.N.

Summary: James Norrington saves a girl from his past.

Author's Note: Happy birthday Magic Kingdom. Your present is a James Norrington fanfic cause I have daddy issues. ❤️🧎‍♀️

Warning: Mentions of gallows and having a rope around your neck but no one dies.

"Your father was a pirate. He deserved to hang from the gallows,"

Those words stuck with you ever since a boy you once called a friend uttered them to you. You were twelve years old when you saw your father hang. His limp body blew in the wind after fighting so hard to live. Your friend glared at you before leaving you behind with his family.

Fearing retaliation, your mother left with you and your siblings as stow aways. The next few years proved to be a hard time in your life. As a woman, men looked down on you. You fought to be noticed and even became captain of a ship. Yet you still wondered about the boy you once called a friend.

His name was James. A boy that always had your back. James would never let anyone hurt you. Boys would tease you for your poorer status but not him. The comment about your father was unlike him but it hurt enough for you to never speak to him again. Not that you had a choice.

Now you were about to meet the same fate as your father. A crowd was forming around the gallows. People were throwing food and other things at you as two guards led you through the crowd. Shaky legs took you up the stairs and in front of the hanging rope.

These last moments were the same your father felt. Your stomach sank. You sacrificed yourself to let your crew escape. Maybe they will tell your story to future pirates. One day you knew another woman would be captain.

A man read the charges that were stuck to you loudly. The crowd had several opinions about you and they weren't afraid to speak them. As you looked through the crowd familiar faces appeared. Large hats covered their faces but you could recognize then anywhere.

The rope was suddenly wrapped around your neck. If they were going to do something they needed to do it now. The men asked if you had any words. You spat on their face. The man raised his arm to slap you yet stopped.

"Why delay such a fitting end for a pirate whore?" He asked. He walked to the lever that would drop you. The impact would break your neck and you would gasp for air. Just as your father did.

As he pulled the lever, the rope around your neck was cut. Chaos broke as your crew attacked the guards. The floor below you gave way.

You fell to the ground with a loud thud. The pain shot up your leg. A loud scream could be heard in the crowd. People wondered if you died under the gallows. The past few days starting to weigh on you. Any hope of escape was dashed as you laid on your back. Tears ran down the corners of your eyes.

A man suddenly stood above you. His black hair tied back. A few loose strands blowing in the wind. His eyebrows furrowed together to show concern. Dark brown eyes remained on yours. He had a mustache and beard, a sharp contrast to the guards. He was dirty like her from head to toe. Yet he somehow looked so familiar.

"James?" You asked weakly.