Pirates of the Caribbean oneshots/x readers

Cutler Becket x reader (soulmate au)

Author note:

(Y/n) = your first name

(L/n) = your last name

(n/n) your pirate nickname

(her/him) (male/female) = choose your own pronoun

You are (Y/n) (L/n). More famoulsy known as Captain (n/n). Notorious pirate and one of the biggest nuisances to the EITC.

I know this one is incredibly short but it was a spurofthemoment thing.

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The battered form of (Y/n) (L/n) knelt on the hard wooden boards. A small stream of blood tracked its way down the side of their face. Their dislocated right shoulder bulged grotesquely under their shirt, made worse by their hands tied behind their back.

(Y/n) looked pleadingly up into the face of their captor. The cold within their eyes chilled (his/her) very soul.

"Anything, please" (he/she) whispered, "don't kill me."

The barrel of the pistol was brought to rest on their temple. A small tear tracked its way down their cheek as they closed their eyes. Fear flooding their heart and a sorrow, greater than any they had ever known. Greater than when they saw their parents killed by EITC men. Greater than when they killed their own brother to save him from the terrible pain of an incurable poison. Greater even than their fear of death.

It was the sorrow of one rejected by their soulmate.

As the strings of fate snapped, it would bring a pain and sorrow even greater than death.

Cutler Becket's eyes narrowed as he drew a sharp breath, and pulled the trigger.

He watched, seemingly impassive, as their prone form collapsed to the floor.

Becket placed the gun into a waiting Mercer's hands and knelt by the (male/female) corpse. Slave to the turmoil within, he reached forward and drew the sleeve of their shirt up, to expose the words swirling around their wrist.

If I were to let you live I'll have you know I expect something in return.

The words scrawled in his own neat caligraphy stared up at him. Sudden self-revulsion gripped him and he drew the sleeve back down before standing. Mercer gave him a questioning look before Becket narrowed his eyes.

"Have someone clean this mess, we have work to do."

With those words, he strode from the room.

His soul writhed uncomfortably and he tried to rationalise with himself.

'Soulmate or not, there is only one fate for pirates...death.' Within his mind, the sight of his supposedly fated soulmate's face almost made him miss a step.

'Besides...I have no use for a pirate for a soulmate, especially not one who begs so pitifully for their life.'

With those thoughts, a frigid calm settled over him. Ice formed around his heart, a blanket to smother the pain.

He finally entered his quarters and sat at his desk. Settling down to write the execution notices for the rest of (Y/n)'s crew.

The thread snapped.