Killian Jones One Shots

The Sea Hag

The first thing I became aware of when I started to wake up was the pain in my lower belly. Like a hot blade had been pushed into me and twisted while I writhed from it, and the moment my eyes blinked open, I started panicking. My period. Fucking Christ, how could I have forgotten that my period was due?!

I had left home to join Killian on the Jolly during my summer vacation and while I wasn't new to having my period, I'd always managed to avoid being on board the ship when it hit. It was embarrassing and dirty and just one hell of a big 'nope'. In fact, I avoided being around Killian whenever I was on the damn thing. Not because of anything he'd done, but because I had only been having it for about a year and it still felt new and worrisome to me. My grandmother banned me from using tampons which meant I had to use pads. Pads meant more risk for making a mess and the last thing I wanted to do was try to explain how there was blood in the bed like someone had been murdered when no one had been.

Jumping from the bed and almost falling on my ass from the height, I did a nose dive for my school bag turned overnight bag. Clothes, bathing suit, hairbrush, con-

Condoms? Who the fuck put condoms in my bag?

Why had it never occured to me until now to use condoms? Or...something?


Not that it mattered, considering my uterus felt like it was trying to commit suicide by forcing its weight in blood to vacate my body by any means necessary.

I sighed with relief when my fingers finally closed upon a pad left over from the school year before I found my feet and slid to the door of the cabin. A quick peek out into the corridor, and a listen, told me that most of the crew should be up on deck which was a fucking miracle. No awkward 'Mornin' Miss Wrights' to stop me on my mad dash to the bathroom that Killian used.

"Oh, thank *fuck*!" No one was in the bathroom which meant I was free to run inside and bolt the door behind me. Now I just had to hurry and change an-

I forgot to grab some clean clothes. Mother fuckin-

Well, thankfully a change of clothes wasn't needed as I'd woken in time. It seemed my uterus was being nice by way of giving me warning cramps before the flood.

There was a sigh of relief, and a moment spent where I did a happy little dance while peeing just because I was so relieved. But when it came time to throw away the wrapper.... There was no trash can.

In fact, this nice little private closet toilet (It was an officer's bathroom. Typical in naval ships of the time period. Basic, simple. Clean. But...lacking in modern amenities), didn't even really have storage. Not like my bathroom at home did anyway. I mean... I could have flushed the wrapper. The Jolly Roger was very modern for her times and the chances of anything clogging the clean out system was unlikely. Unless that someone tried to flush a small sea turtle (don't ask) or other marine life.

Still, it didn't sit right with me. That wrapper would go straight through the Jolly's plumbing and into the ocean and that just bugged the shit out of me. This world didn't have plastic yet, and they sure as hell didn't need me giving it to their oceans. So, I wadded the damn wrapper up as tiny as I could and took it back to the cabin with me before shoving it into my bag. Which, on closer inspection, revealed I only had one pad left. Fucking. Joy.

It was still early, the sunrise still evident from the cabin windows and I was exhausted. So, back to bed it was. At least the last pad I had would buy me some time before I actually had to leave, and despite feeling like shit, I didn't want to go home.

I curled around Killian's pillow and began to drift off to the sounds of shouts and footsteps above, as well as the comforting sounds of the Jolly creaking. When I first came aboard, the ship seemed so noisy. There was always something going on, something making noise. But now it was comforting. The sounds rocked me to sleep at night and soothed my nerves. They reminded me that I was *home*. That I was *safe*. And that everything was-

"Son of bitch!" Sitting bolt upright in bed as a revelation hit me, I began to panic all over again. There was no trash can in the bathroom. Because men didn't technically need a trash can in the bathroom. Not when it was literally a closet where they took care of one or two things. Where as....fucking hell. Was I the first woman to ever live on this ship? What I supposed to do when it came time to change pads?!

Maybe? I didn't fucking know. I didn't really care all that much, either. Because IF there had been a woman aboard, she obviously didn't leave behind a trash can in the bathroo-

Oh God. Was I in the time period where women just free bled everywhere?!