Pirates of the Caribbean Oneshots

A Kiss from the King

She was beautiful.

Her brown waves flowed down her back, ending around the middle of it.

He let his gaze drop lower than where her hair fell to, settling on her backside.

The breeches she wore showed off her sculpted, muscular legs and gorgeous arse.

His eyes moved to her hip, resting against a table.

"Birthing hips" he thought, then smiled wryly because he knew it wasn't possible.

She'd had a child and wouldn't have any more.

The child was his too, that Irish bastard, who he dearly wanted to shoot, but wasn't stupid enough to try.

She turned, and he caught his breath as he saw how low the neck was on the loose shirt she was wearing.

A ring glinted on her wedding finger, further proof he could never have her.

As hands cupped her hips, he wished more than anything they were his hands.
But the rings on the fingers and the lace on the shirt cuffs told him all too clearly who's hands they were.

As she turned her head, he saw the scar, curving from her left ear to her jaw.

It did not destroy her beauty.
It showed she was a fighter, a warrior, a King.

Her lips met another pair.

He wished he could taste her.
He wondered if was she the source of the enchanting, mysterious scent that seemed to hang in the air when she was present.

How he longed to find out.

But, as the insufferable Lord of the Caribbean would be quick to point out, he was longing for something he couldn't have.

By God he wanted her though.
He always had.

He wanted to ravage her beautiful body with his kisses, wanted to hurt her just to hear her screaming his name.

His heart skipped a beat when he did hear her say his name.

It fell from her lips like poison.

He let his eyes flicker to her breasts as he arched an eyebrow to show her was listening.

"Your reports are almost two months late."

Her tone was harsh, impatient.

"I've been busy," he told her evenly.

"I don't give a shit," she retorted.
"Two bloody months late! If you want to keep your seat, they better be in my hand before the week is out."

Her voice, with it's acquired accent overlaying her native one, was what he thought angels must sound like.

"Quit gawking at her breasts." snapped the man standing behind her, his hands tightening protectively over her hips.

"Me apologies, Captain," he sneered, putting as much contempt into the last word as he could.

Eyes, dark and dangerous, locked on his own.

A pistol pressed against his breastbone.

"Stop undressing the King with your eyes and start writing up those flaming reports."

"Why should I?" he responded.

"Because I'll put a fecking bullet through your head if you don't!"

"Calm down love."

The angel spoke and the devil listened.

Eyes like smouldering coals, shaded by the wide brim of a hat, looked him up and down with thinly-disguised dislike.

The pistol was pressed harder and a warning of , "She's mine. Keep your eyes to yourself or I'll cut your jewels off unless you stop gawking at my King. Savvy?" was growled in his ear.

He curled his lip.
"She good in bed?"

A knee or foot-he wasn't sure which-landed painfully between his legs.

He staggered and let out a groan of pain.

"As I thought, no jewels for me to cut off. Therefore, she has to be better in bed than you because she has all the items necessary. Now, kindly go to Hell and make the trip swift."

A slap across the face stopped him retorting.
Cheekbone stinging furiously from where her ring had connected, he gazed, open-mouthed at the angel who'd delivered the blow.

Then the cool barrell of a pistol rested under his jaw and he heard the click of it cocking.

"Go. To. Hell."

He didn't bother saying he'd been there.
She was so close, her slightly chapped, inviting lips only inches away.

How he wanted to grab the back of her head and pull them onto his own.

He knew he'd be shot, but decided it would be worth it just to taste her.

Then the pistol under his jaw dug into him and he decided it was time.

He closed the distance between them, lips crashing onto hers.

The pistol fell to the floor and a knee came flying up to land between his legs again.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"I'm a Pirate Lord."
He could taste her on his lips.

"And I can kill them if I like."

"Don't kill him," ordered the angel, turning blazing eyes on him.

She reached out and plucked the wooden ball out of his coat pocket.

"I hereby remove your title as Pirate Lord. Now get the shit out of my sight before I remove your life too."

She shrugged on her black frock coat and dropped his Piece of Eight into the pocket.

"I'll go fix the Code then."
The devil gave him a dangerous stare before walking away.

He left the hall, satisfied.

He had just lost his title but got a kiss from the Pirate King.

A/N Who do you think the characters are in this??
Comment your theories!
And I have a bottle of rum for anyone who finds any of my references in this!
Captain Storm Sparrow.