How You Met Him (Jack Sparrow X Reader)

How You Came To Seek Help

The mood board above is a depiction of the clothes you will be wearing, We all no that Jack Sparrow is meant to be an independent bachelor forever. But this fiction piece is otherwise---

Also do not read if you haven't watched Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End, It is movie three for those of you who do not remember the names.

You were Lord Beckett's daughter, how you ended up in Tortuga, you didn't know. Scratch that, you were Lord Beckett's illegitimate daughter. 'Illegitimate' being the reason you didn't live a lavish life in the courts of Calcutta, watching roses bloom with the Indian bloodshed.

You mother worked hard to keep your lives going. In blunt words, she was a stripper, a famous one in the costal clubs. Every man wanted her, not something you were proud of, but she was beautiful, externally and internally. Everyone failed to see the latter. Causative of genes, you were too, as beautiful as the waters of the seven seas. However, looks wasn't the only thing you had inherited from her, her status too was yours. Whore, hooker, slut you had become used to these names even before becoming an adolescent. Your name had blemished into a title of sin.

Your attitude was one thing you hadn't inherited from your mother. She could stand there and take all the insults like free rum on the streets. You? Your blood boiled at the unrighteous labels everyone had given you. You knew it was too late for your mother but it wasn't for you.

At the age of fourteen, (Y/N) disappeared from the town, it was easy, nobody would ever notice and even if they did, they'd assume your body lay in a ditch, utilized and lifeless. You took the place of a male, (M/N), your story was straight enough so the blacksmith hired you.

By the age of 21, you were economically stable, able to support your mother, the vulgar population no longer in desire of her services. Sure, your hands were calloused, your hands adorned with scratches and burn marks, so harsh that they would never heal, but you were satisfied. You had long since mastered the art of sword fighting. Years and years of practice had perfected your skill and valor. Fending off a fully grown man was child's play for you. Your mother was proud of you; sure you could be happier but it could also have been worse.

And it did become worse, your mother was sick and there weren't and herbalists in the land. Though, at times, you acted as if you didn't care, your mother's medical condition worried you, you loved and cared for her more than you would ever admit. Sailing to Port Royale, the closest port would take off most of your savings, let alone the cost of the medicine.

There was one way, and you desperately wanted to avoid it. Your mother pleaded you not to venture to the man who had ruined both your lives but there was no option, you didn't want her to leave you so soon. When word came that Lord Beckett had taken up to the governor's daughter at Port Royale, you sailed there, arriving at the court with little wealth on you.

Entrance was not allowed, you had trouble getting past the gates, they accused of piracy but a fellow migrant confirmed your innocence. Sneaking past the rum ridden guards of Beckett's mansion was simple, they were too intoxicated to notice you, let alone fight you on encounter.

You were bewildered when the lord recognized you on sight, despite your masked gender, he hadn't forgotten and proceeded to give you a detailed narration of exactly how he had fucked up with the 'whore in the bar" Your hands had trembled, twitching to unsheathe your sword, but you needed the financial aid.

The man had a life, a life he could have earned without ruining so many others. Soothing your anger with the thought you seeing your mother will again, you stated your reason, the lord had boomed with laughter before composing a reply. The conservation had been intense and eventually, you didn't have the will to stop yourself from hurtling insults at the grey-haired man. Involuntary tears streaming down your eyes at your helplessness. Calling him the vilest of names did nothing to diminish his power-smitten smirk.

In the end, you had uncovered your silver instrument, something your mother had coaxed you into purchasing. Driven by anger you launched yourself at your all-defiling father, but he was ready, at least readier than you had expected. Using his weight factor, he had swiftly deflected your blow with his own, pushing you against the wall, a gash now situated on the pale skin of your arm. With sheer will you had managed to overpower the man, but that was before your head exploded, men pulled at your joints as your consciousness rapidly ebbed away.

The last words you thought you would ever hear-

"Dear, a daughter should be treated no different from her mother, she shall have the same pleasurable fate, among pirates no less"

The bile rose in your throat rose above the pain that made you light-headed. You knew what was coming, and you'd rather end your life than encounter it. Muttering apologies to your mother, with the last of your strength you gripped your sword, swinging the weapon to gain enough momentum to pierce you heart.

A restraint was quick to wrap around your wrist and you heard the sound of the owner's tongue knocking on the roof of his mouth. "Not so fast, dear, don't you know damaged goods hold no value in the market."

And then you lost.

Please, please vote on this and comment, I will not update if posts are not getting me anywhere... Also at a point of the story I might ask for suggestion, if y'all have any.