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brwnicons · 1 year

Note

bro, i miss you so much🥹 but on your last posts, i decide to send a request and my apologise if i did the wrong way of sending request !!!11!!1! 🫶🏼

😡💔🫂📖 with Stede Bonnet !!11!! anyways have great day/night, sweetie (´ω`) you can do other request or ignore this!!

-🦈

☆ You sent it perfectly, thank you! I'm so sorry for stopping writing so suddenly. I abused too much of my hyperfocus states I grew so tired I couldn't write anything. However this time I'll be taking things easy and healthy! Btw I love sharks!! 🦈💛 ☆

😡💔🫂📖 + Stede Bonnet

1k followers event: Send me 3/4 emojis and a character and I'll try to write something <3

-> Resume: Stede and Reader have a fight and Lucius steps in to solve everything before either of you dumbasses throw yourselves off to the sea because it seems like you two can't be apart for more than 5 minutes. 1.8k words (~7 min)

-> Tags: GN!Reader, First Mate Reader, Stede Bonnet x reader, Blackbeard didn't arrive at the Revenge here, Angst?? It doesn't feel like it, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Lucius should be paid for his therapy service. Talk it through my ass, Mr Bonnet.

-> Warnings: None

Please tell me if you see any mistake!

The atmosphere is uncomfortable and the tension surrounding the galley could be cut with a knife. Nobody talked and everyone would slightly flinch at the sound of cluttering.

The fight you had previously had with captain Stede was heard in every bit of the ship and it had been so strange to see you both shouting at each other that everyone else were left petrified. And now? You were eating with the crew for the first time in months, with a frown on your face and handling the cutlery roughly, as if instead of stabbing some steak you were stabbing Stede.

Lunch went abnormally peacefully and without any argument and when everyone was finished you headed to were Roach was cleaning up the dishes and remains.

—Let me help you— You offered Roach as you took a plate and a sponge and started scrubbing. Roach only shrugged in response and stepped aside to give you more space.

As you were both working in silence, you were able to notice his ocasional side glances on your head and his sometimes hesitating breaths, as if he were deciding whether your situation actually was or was not none of his business. After a couple of minutes he sighed and decided to ask.

— Uh... you OK? That seemed like a pretty much intense argument. We expected you two to take out your swords and all.— He tried to brush it off with a bit of humor and a indifferent pitch but you caught that he wanted something. Maybe it was comforting you (something kind of odd knowing Roach's personality) or he was trying to get fuel for the crew's gossip. Your current mood didn't let you think of his intentions as friendly and so you glared at him and left the dishes in complete silence, leaving through the door right after.

What you didn't know was that a certain scribe had been intently watching the scene.

————

As the day progressed the deck's atmosphere began losing its previous tension and recovered its usually cheerfulness. You grabbed a broom and decided to busy yourself with some sweeping.

— Now, spit it. What the hell happened with you both before?—

You rose your head to meet Lucius' eyes next to you. He was sitting on the deck's stairs with his hands supporting his head.

— It's none of your business, Lucius— you turned to leave when you heard him stand up.

—None of- None of my business?! Dear, you've been nothing like yourself since that fight. You both never even fight!— he approached you and put his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him.

—Remeber when you helped me when Pete and I fought? About all the corny things you told me?— You looked down at the memory of asking Lucius to recall every time he and Pete cuddled or how happy he made him —Let me help you this time—.

You accepted your fate and sat down with him in the stairs, where you hugged him tightly.

— I was just worried about the raids... Last time he got hurt and I was so scared and— You could already feel the tears building up and you hid your face in your hands. You could feel Lucius' hand on your back, doing soothing circles —I don't want to lose him, Luce! He gets so carried away he forgets about taking care of himself!—

— And... That's why you told him you would left and resign as his First Mate if he didn't stop raiding without thinking? —

—Yeah...— You sniffed and wiped off your tears with the back of your hand when you felt a thin object being put on your knee. You accepted the handkerchief with a sad smile and wiped your eyes properly.

Seeing your current state, Lucius abruptly stood up and offered you his hand.

— I'll go talk with him — He had a stern look that said that his opinion couldn't be changed because the decision had been already made.

You sighed in defeat and, accepting his hand, you stood up and shook off your clothes.

— Alright... But don't be too harsh, please—

Lucius smiled at your words and gave you a few pats in the back

— Definetly you're not the same y/n that was trying to stab a piece of meat during lunch — You looked at him tiredly, he hadn't answer your question. — Alright, I promise. I won't be too harsh with him. —

You smiled and he gave you one final hug before walking towards the Captain's cabin.

————

Lucius didn't even bother to knock and bursted open the door to the cabin. Any pirate captain would response to that disrespectful behaviour with the amputation of a finger at least. Instead, captain Bonnet seemed so busy weeping and sobbing in his bed, in a nest made of blankets and cushions, that he didn't hear neither Lucius bursting the door open nor his next approach.

When he was right next to his captain blanket-cocoon and Stede was still unaware of his presence, he cleaned his throat to call for his attention.

— Uh... Captain? I need to talk to you —

Stede gave a visible and violent full body flinch at Lucius' words. He turned his head to the boy next to his bed and quickly tried to act as if he wasn't crying just a second ago, his face still all piffy and red.

— Good lords, Lucius, you startled me! —

He took off the blankets and stood up with a quick jump. — Well, what do you need? I hope it's important, boy! I'm quite busy at this moment —.

Lucius huffed and approached the sofa. He sat on one edge and patted the spot next to him. — I'm here to talk about your fight with your partner. Now, move your ass here because I'm going to set some things clear —. Lucius' tone didn't admit rejection and after hearing a loud gulp from Stede, he had his captain sitting next to him, fidgeting with the edges of his robe.

— What do you mean you want to talk about y/n...? Have you talked to them? — Stede was no longer able to hide his nervousness. Yeah, he had gotten angry because his dear y/n had threatened with leaving if he didn't take care. But, still, he loved them and thinking about them being sad because of the fight made his heart break. He hadn't wanted to get so angry.

— Yes, I've been talking to them — Lucius took a deep breath and interrupted his thoughts. — I can't believe it! — He pointed at his chest — You're the one that always presses the whole "talk it trough" on us but then, you transform into a sad dog after a misunderstanding with your partner! It's ridiculous! —

— Well, I'm aware that I certainly haven't behaved‐ —

— No! — Lucius grabbed one cushion that was laying around on the couch and shoved it into his captain's face — Look! I've got the cushion so it's my turn to talk. Now, listen to me. You have fought with someone who was worrying about your health and well-being, because you're the only one able to lead a raid after having been stabbed in your damn stomach! They take care of you, they worry about you and you get mad at them because of an obvious lie?! —

Stede felt silent. He knew he had made a mistake the moment he saw you running under the ship after that fight. He had felt horribly after and as the coward he was, the only thing he did was sleep. And drink. Both to forget that he hurt you.

Lucius dropped the pillow on Stede's knees and crossed his arms.

— You may speak now –.

— Lucius... — Stede hugged the pillow tightly. His glassy eyes didn't allow him to see Lucius clearly — I'm so sorry we fought- I don't want them to leave! I mean- not because of my mistakes. — Lucius gave a hum of approval as he inquired him to keep going. Stede sighed.

— I love them so much, Lucius. When the possibility of them leaving crossed my mind I got so scared I could only shout at them... I certainly wasn't acting rationally... I let myself get carried by the heat of the moment —

— Keep going — Stede sighed again and decided to maintain his eyes in a loose thread of the pillow instead of holding Lucius hard gaze.

— Neither shouldn't I have been so reckless. We don't need the raids at this moment in time and I understand y/n is as worried as my well-being as I am about theirs. I should have had their feelings into account. —

Lucius grinned in success and clapped excitedly.

— That's good! Yes, sir! Now, how do you feel —

— Miserable —.

— Well, lucky you! I'm sure a certain someone has been happy to hear all this lament of yours — Lucius gave Stede a light punch in his shoulder that Stede answered with a instant "ow". He turned towards the cabin door and waved.

— I know you're there, y/n. You can come out now! —

You peeked out from behind the door and the moment Stede saw you he stood up a headed towards you.

— Oh, dear... — He dropped the cushion at the sight of your glassy eyes, not caring if he was already crying, and took hold of both of your hands.

— I am so sorry, y/n. I mean it. I am so sorry I hurt you. Please, I can't bear being apart from you knowing it was me who hurt you. Please, forgive me. I- —. You cut his spiraling of guilt with a tight embrace.

— Of course I forgive you, you silly —. You pulled apart to take his face in your hands — I shouldn't have said that I would leave. You know I wouldn't, I love you —

— Oh, dear. I love you too —. He hugged you again and you could smell the vanilla scent of his hair.

— Well, then. I'll let you two lovebirds to it. No need to thank me I see! — You heard Lucius' fake offended tone but before either of you could thank him, he dissapeared behind the door.

— He's quite a mediator... —. You giggled at Stede's thoughtful expression and hugged him again.

————

That night you picked out the book for the night reading. You fell asleep quickly, leaned on Stede's side. A soft blanket covered you both and although tiredness didn't allow you to distinguish his words, you could feel the deep rumbling of his chest while he talked.

And next morning, you woke up next to him in the captain's cabin. He had his head on your chest and his arms encircled you. He snored softly as the golden light from the morning sun made his hair glow.

How could you leave?

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dragon-kazansky · 7 months

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Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

♡♡♡

Chapter One - Ghost stories

Chapter Two - Delusional

Chapter Three - Can you see me now?

Chapter Four - Just like before

Chapter Five - Rocky waters

Chapter Six - Out in the open

Chapter Seven - Blind Man's Cove

Chapter Eight - Captain Hands

Chapter Nine - Changing of the tides

♡♡♡

Season 2 content from here

Blackbeard rules the sea. Despite wanting his captain back, Izzy realises his mistake. Protecting the crew is his concern. Protecting you is his life mission. Stede's return brings hope, but there's a lot of work to be done before this crew becomes a family.

♡♡♡

Chapter Ten - The Kraken

Chapter Eleven - Indestructible little fucker

Chapter Twelve - Captain, oh Captain

Chapter Thirteen - Loving touch

Chapter Fourteen - Healing Hands

Chapter Fifteen - Night to remember

Chapter Sixteen - Sea on fire

Chapter Seventeen - The unicorn and his sparrow

Epilogue

♡♡♡

Once I am done with the main story, I will write a bunch of oneshots based around this story.

Just ask to be added to the taglist.

#spirit of the sea #izzy hands x reader #gn reader #ofmd #our flag means death #dragon writes #masterlist

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 1 month

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Izzy would say, "I love you" through gritted teeth whilst being unable to make eye contact. Then, once the words are out in the open and unable to be taken back, he would wait for your inevitable laugh or sound of disgust. Why wouldn't you? Who could love someone so completely wretched as him? But against all of the poisoned things he believes to be true, you would do the exact opposite. There would be no laugh. No venomous sneer. Instead, he'd be met with you encircling him in your arms. Though he tenses initially, still expecting some kind of negative reaction, your hug would continue to be...well, just a hug. And with that, the pirate would melt into your hold and perhaps, melt even further when you whispered back those three little words.

(I'm considering writing a multi-chapter Izzy fic...)

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unicornletters · 6 months

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izzy hands x gn reader, s2 spoilers, no mcd, part 2

Izzy Hands, feared first mate of the dread pirate Blackbeard and finest swordsman in the Caribbean, can't eat neatly to save his life. There are crumbs all over your commandeered bed, though you suppose that's not much worse than sleeping on other people's dirty linens in the first place.

"So," Izzy says around a mouthful of bread, "what's our next move?"

It's impressive, you think, that he managed to wait until now to ask, but you're going to have to disappoint him.

"I'm going to take care of you," you tell him, "for as long as it takes for you to get well."

Izzy grumbles and glowers at you. This reaction would, once upon a time, have had you quailing, but not now. Not at your Izzy, with his golden voice and unicorn leg and tender heart.

"What then?" he asks, resigned to being taken care of for the moment.

"I don't know," you say. "We could look for Jackie's husbands. She's on the Revenge and they're -- well, I don't know where they are."

Izzy raises an eyebrow.

"Jackie left without her husbands? Anders must be something," he says. He's always refused to call him the Swede.

"Or she needed to get away fast," you say. "I think she'd like to know someone checked on them."

"If I know those boys," Izzy says, "they're rebuilding the bar right now." He shifts a little, trying to get comfortable. "We could stay in a room there, eventually, instead of in some poor sod's house."

"We could," you say. It's a nice idea, even though you're enjoying your alone time with Izzy, circumstances aside. "Finished with your tea?"

"Yeah," Izzy says, and makes to get up. You still him with a hand on his shoulder. When you fell in love with Izzy Hands, you fell in love with all of him, including the part that thinks he has to do every single goddamn thing that needs doing all the time. Maybe someday he'll accept that you can and want to do things for him, too. For now, you take both your cups and head to the kitchen.

It's not bad in there. There's food, anyway, and tea was a lucky find. No sugar, so you pretended you didn't notice Izzy grimacing as he drank it, but the caffeine should stave off headaches for both of you.

When you get back to the bedroom, Izzy is on his back with his eyes closed and you hate it. Just yesterday you thought he was dead for sure, and this resemblance to a corpse does unpleasant things to your insides.

So you crawl up beside him and steal a kiss, making him smile under your lips. He turns on his side, laying on his good leg and draping the stump of the other across your middle. You play with his hair, so soft without the pomade, and he nuzzles against your shoulder as the morning light plays across the bed.

#izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #happy ending for izzy hands #reader #self ship community #f/o #f/o community #fictional other #comfort character #x reader #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #our flag means gay #ofmd fanfic #ofmd fic

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gonzo-rella · 2 years

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Headcanons: Izzy Hands With an S/O Whose Love Language is Pet Names

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Requested by: @skullr0se

Hey can you please write a head canons (I have no idea if I wrote that right) about Izzy hands with Reader, where reader’s love language is Pet names (like darling, Dear…)

Relationship(s): Izzy Hands x gn!reader (romantic)

Warnings: None! (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Well, all it took was a request for Izzy (my beloved) to get me back to writing. It feels good to (finally) get a request done!)

It takes all of Izzy’s willpower to not melt into a puddle when you first refer to him with a pet name.

As you can probably guess, he’s not used to most forms of affection that come with romantic relationships, including people calling him anything other than ‘Izzy’.

Well, he’s more than used to people calling him a ‘dick’ or ‘twat’ or any other term to express their distaste for him.

But not... ‘darling’.

It’s something he never knew that he would like or want until you did it.

It felt like such a casual and insignificant moment, but, at the same time, it meant a great deal to him.

From that point he’s a little disappointed if you call him Izzy.

Oh the joy he feels when you call him ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ or any other pet name.

It’ll take ages for him to be practically unfazed by it.

And, even then, his heart will always leap at your pet names.

That said, he fucking abhors romance and all that mushy shit (or so he would have you believe) so he refuses to make known this fondness of your way of expressing your love for him.

For a while, you will likely assume that he isn’t bothered by the pet names, nor that he’s particularly enthusiastic about them.

However, I feel like one day you’ll notice him smile a little when you use one.

You won’t bring it up to him.

But, you’ll be thrilled that he actually likes it.

I can imagine that, the first time the crew hears you calling Izzy by a pet name, they will have a field day with it.

In their defence, it’s a massive shock.

Calling Izzy hands ‘love’ or ‘darling’ is like calling a boa constrictor ‘Fluffy’.

Before they get bored of it, there’s a good chance they’ll call him by whatever pet name they heard.

Of course, this is much to Izzy’s annoyance and embarrassment.

Sorry, Iz.

It will take a while before Izzy even dreams of calling you anything other than your name.

I mean, it was hard enough for him to start calling you your first name rather than your surname.

I feel like the first time he calls you by a pet name (his go-to is ‘love’) will seem like such a mundane moment, despite how big of a deal it actually is for him.

You’ll know not to make it a big deal.

Though Izzy can tell how much it means to you by the grin on your face.

It seems like such a minute thing, but it means a great deal to the both of you.

#izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #our flag means death x reader #our flag means death #ofmd x reader #ofmd #x reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral!reader #x gender neutral reader

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desastre-gay · 1 year

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I guess I just lost my husband (I don't know where he went) Chapter 1: I got a a brand new attitude

Amongst the panic as the English board the revenge one crew member remains placid, mostly due to their all encompassing fear, hands raised as they are guided to kneel with the rest of the crew. All are panicky within their own right, however the meekest member is called forward first to be interrogated, guns pressed against their trembling skin to guide them into the captain’s cabin.

With one last glance at their captain lovers, who stare back at them with love and concern of their own, they are pushed harshly into the room, forced down by their shoulders into an armchair in front of a desk.

An Englishman stands in front of them, hands resting on the desk - shoulder width apart - in an act of intimidation, brow furrowed at the trembling mess sitting in front of him, curled into themselves.

“What’s your role on this ship? You’re certainly not a pirate.” The bald headed man sneers, getting even closer to their face, which pales considerably before they manage to answer.

“I’m only the cabin boy, sir.” The man’s face relaxes at this, a look of thought coming over him for a fleeting moment before the interrogation continues.

A few more questions pass before they are allowed to leave - well, before they are escorted back out onto the deck, guided to sit between Lucius and black Pete.

“What happened in there?” Lucius is the one to ask, arms held tightly around his midriff in what seems to be a nervous gesture.

“They basically interrogated me, asked about Stede a lot.” They answer, anxiously looking for said captain but unable to spot him.

“Where is he, by the way?” Lucius fidgets and looks down at the decking, black Pete piping up before he can sugar coat anything.

“I’m pretty sure they took him away for his own interrogation, he is sooo fucked.”

“Not helping, babe.”

----------------------

There’s no trial, Stede signed a confession and that was good enough for the English army, good enough for them to sentence him to death by firing squad. The only slightly good news is that Edward has been spared, handed over to Izzy per his request. The cabin boy doesn’t know what or how to feel, of course they are devastated for Stede, yet relieved for Edward.

They stand next to Ed, cursing Izzy Hands and everything he has done under their breath, absolutely delighted when they witness Edward surge forward to punch said man - sending him to the deck. However, once they notice the dangerous glint in his eyes they pull him backwards, hands grasping his arm in desperation as the English raise their rifles.

In a flash, he pulls them with him to stand protectively in front of Stede, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Act of Grace!” Soon he has the entire crew shouting it with him, Stede following as the cabin boy reaches up to pull off his blindfold, smiling gently at him.

The conversation becomes background noise to them as they indulge, swimming in his eyes as they gently cradle his face, tears lining their lower eyelashes. They snap back to the dire situation at hand when the rifles are raised once again, promptly taking a protective stance in front of the blond man, Ed moving back to do the same.

Just when Stede begs for them to re-apply the blindfold, Lucius stands and swiftly begins reading out a log entry from the crew’s very first robbery, Olu presenting the plant as evidence. It’s enough, and the admiral is forced to stand down as he becomes agitated.

Edward, Stede, the cabin boy and a handful of English guards re-enter the captain’s cabin to go over the act of grace agreement, the cabin boy only following to discover what their lovers had agreed to.

One soldier explains it simply, also adding the clause that for the agreement to apply to Stede, Ed also had to sign. Izzy makes a comment, ignored by everyone as the salt and pepper haired man signs with an X. The three lovers are left alone for a moment, Stede requesting the privacy, causing Izzy to curse as he walks out of the cabin.

It’s quiet for a moment before the cabin boy speaks up, “So, you have to serve the King for ten years?” The words are framed as a question, although it’s really just a statement. “Can I come with you?” This question however is asked with a sense of urgency, causing both Ed and Stede’s faces to fall.

“I really wish you could, dearest, but army service is no place for you.” The blond haired pirate captain reaches for them, holding their face as they did for him mere moments ago.

“I don’t think I can live ten years without you.” Tears begin lining their eyes once again, allowed to fall only to be brushed away by Ed’s thumb, who uses his thumb to turn them towards him.

“We’ll find a way out soon, love, promise. We’ll be back before you even know it.” And if a tear falls from his own eye no one mentions it, as he presses a firm kiss to their forehead, Stede taking the time to do the same before they are taken aboard the English ship.

Both parties stand at the edge of the ships after tearful goodbyes, maintaining eye contact until they can no longer, only able to spot distant black dots.

------------------

It’s been a hard few days, Izzy taking over as captain clearly having a negative impact on the crew’s morale. It was only a matter of time before words of mutiny began spreading throughout the crew.

The crew of the revenge sway back and forth, gaining momentum with the shared weight of Izzy Hands between them, at the edge of the ship. Just on the final swing, someone calls for them to stop, causing them to turn and stare in awe at Edward Teach (born on a beach). One member of the crew in particular startles, dropping Izzy in the process, before gathering themselves and dashing to their lover.

“Ed!” He catches them, lifting them up in a crushing hug before pulling them into a searing kiss, pouring every emotion since they departed into it.

“Oh, I missed you, love.” Placing them back onto the firm deck, he holds them by the shoulders, staring at them as if they would disappear if he blinked. The two lovers smile softly at each other, recommitting one another into their memories before the moment is interrupted.

“Where’s Stede?” It’s an innocent question, one that they should rightfully ask about their second lover, but it’s the hopeful look on their grinning face that kills Ed on the inside. His face falls, smile shrinking as he turns back to the frozen crew.

“Izzy, we’ll take tea in my room.” With that the cabin boy is whisked away to the captain’s cabin, building a pillow fort with the fearsome pirate legend at his request. As they both lay there, cabin boy resting upon Ed’s chest in the dim candlelight, they ask about their second lover’s whereabouts once more.

“He didn’t want to come back.” He breaks, tears freely falling down his cheeks as he presses his lips to their temple. “I waited for him, but he never came.” The cabin boy’s face is crestfallen, brow furrowing in thought and despair before lifting their chin to gaze at Edward.

“He just left you?” And if that alone doesn’t crush Ed’s heart, the way their voice cracks halfway through pummels it into dust. He brings a trembling hand up to swipe their hair out of their face, smoothing it down as he presses a firm kiss to their temple.

“He left us . I waited from dusk to dawn for that man, with no sign of him. After the sun began to rise I had to leave, otherwise the English would’ve caught me.” They lay together for a while, Izzy eventually bringing the tea that was asked for, placing it just inside of the fort to avoid entering it himself.

Edward sends for Lucius, asking for the scribe to write his song lyrics down. The cabin boy tiredly contributes, adding the occasional word or phrase of their own. Lucius, taking his role as unofficial therapist seriously, offers advice and his own words of comfort to the despairing lovers - highlighting the fact that the both of them still have one another.

One moment later, Ed is performing his lyrics for the crew, soul pouring out for them all to see with the cabin boy sitting next to him. The words are met with thunderous applause, plenty of compliments passing around - the word ‘visceral’ being said far too many times.

Feeling their adrenaline dissipate, the cabin boy bids farewell to the salt and pepper haired man as they slip away back to the captain’s cabin in order to get some rest - sleeping without their lovers caused some difficulty. They instantly fall to a deep sleep once they settle into the bed beside the window, soft snores echoing off of the wooden walls.

They are soon awoken, the sound of voices rousing them as they turn from facing the window to face the two men. Izzy stands at a distance from Edward, seething as he holds a book from Stede’s library.

“I should’ve let the English kill you. This, whatever it is that you’ve become, it’s a fate worse than death.” He grits out, not noticing they have awoken, freely speaking his mind.

“Well, I am still Blackbeard so-” Ed is cut off as the shorter man rips a page out of the book, scrunching it as he shoves it into the captain’s face.

“No. This… This is Blackbeard. Not some namby-pamby in a silk gown, pining for his boyfriend.” In an instant, Ed has him by the throat, face coated in anger as he pins him to the bookcase. The shorter man steals a glance at the bed, noting the awake state of the cabin boy - laying still with a look of panic and fear.

“Choose your next words wisely, dog.” The glare set upon him would make any other man keel over, perhaps piss themself, but Izzy merely steels his panic and lifts one hand up to cup Blackbeard’s neck.

“There he is.” He is swiftly pushed away, Ed releasing him and backing away in the same motion, Izzy smirking to himself before continuing with a hoarse voice.

“Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard. Not Edward. Edward better watch his fuckin’ step.” With each word he leans closer into the man, teeth grit and eyes set into an icy glare of his own. He waits a few seconds before moving away, leaving the cabin in a huff with his shoulders squared.

“Dear, are you alright?” Edward’s trance is broken by the cabin boy’s voice, laced with sleep yet still concerned for him.

“I’m fine. Scoot over, love.” They do as he says, shifting closer to the window and lifting the blanket to invite him in. Once laying in the bed, he pulls them down to lie on his chest, arms wrapping around their waist, staring out through the window with an indiscernible look in his eyes.

----------------

In the dead of the night he slips out of the cabin unnoticed, leaving his lover to sleep the night away til dawn, and stands at the railing of the ship gazing out at the sea. Lucius soon joins him, making his presence known by the creaking of the door opening and closing behind him.

“Oh there you are, we’ve been looking for you everywhere.” A relieved smile grows on his face whilst Ed’s face only hardens, glare coming back to life with the new company.

Only the waves know where he is now.

---------------

It’s well into the morning when the cabin boy awakes, beams of sunlight blinding them momentarily before they raise their arm to block the rays. As they adjust to their surroundings they stand, arms reaching up to stretch out their back before falling back down to scratch at their lower stomach.

Then they notice the bare shelves around them, no trace of the books or various trinkets which once decorated the space. Confusion strikes as they make their way out of the cabin, stepping into the harsh sun and stumbling upon first mate Hands.

The man’s usual scowl is gone, replaced with a self satisfied smirk, at least until he registers their presence in front of him.

“Was no one keeping fuckin’ watch? Useless fucking twats, back into the captain’s cabin with you.” Shooing them away, he turns in an unusually nervous nature, searching for the elusive Blackbeard.

“What? I only want to see the crew-” They’re unable to get another word out before the short man grasps their shoulders, turning them swiftly and guiding them back to the door they just closed behind them.

It’s only when he turns to leave that the cabin boy notices a significant limp, trailing their gaze down to his foot to find stark red seeping through some bandages sticking out of the top of his boot. They go to call out to him, stopping themselves at the slam of the cabin door, the faint click of a lock following.

Left to their own devices, with no books to read or trinkets to mess with, they simply sit upon an armchair - trying at least ten different positions before finding a comfortable one. Time passes slowly, and eventually they grow bored of their spiralling thoughts. What was happening? Why were they locked in the cabin? Why couldn’t they spot any crew members on deck? Where’s Ed?

Their saviour from their own questions comes in the form of a leather clad Blackbeard, face set in stone and painted in dark charcoal around his eyes and mouth. Seeing his partner waiting for him makes his eyes soften for a moment, hardening once he sees them wearing the shirt Stede had let them ‘borrow’.

They feel the urge to stand and greet the man, moving their legs from the crossed position they were in to stand, only to be stopped as he comes closer. Placing a hand upon their chest, he guides them to be sitting once again, lifting the same hand to cup their nape. He fiddles with the stray hairs there.

“I know where I went wrong with Stede now.” The first words spoken between the two only confuse the cabin boy further, more questions popping up with none being answered. Their brow furrows, only to be smoothed out by Ed’s thumb as he uses his other hand to cradle the side of their face.

“What do you mean, Ed?” He chuckles, low and dark, at the question. Using both hands, he reaches to hold them by the chin, forcing them to maintain eye contact.

“I should never have given him the chance to say no, to leave me - leave us .” His grip tightens, and they panic for a moment before relaxing into the touch, more to comfort Edward than themselves.

“I’ve learnt my lesson, I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Determination flares in his dark eyes, staring intently at his remaining partner, a fierce possessiveness and protectiveness growing within him.

“These are your living quarters now. You’re not a cabin boy anymore either, your only job is to stay in here, where I can keep you safe.” Where I know you can’t leave me. He doesn’t allow time for any of the information to sink in, willing himself to sit behind the desk as Fang comes into the room and closes the curtains.

“Oh, and love, it’s Blackbeard in front of the crew. Not Ed.” The cabin boy can only stare at their lover in shock and confusion, none of the words processing completely with his abrupt change of character.

There’s no time left to question anything as Jim is brought into the room, made to stand in front of the desk. They take a quick glance to the cabin boy, sitting near the other side of the room, with a disorientated look on their downturned face.

So deep within their own racing thoughts, they fail to comprehend the conversation between the pirate captain and Jim, snapping out of it at the dull thunk of Jim’s body hitting the floor. In a flash they’re across the room, kneeling at Jim’s side and pressing their fingers to their neck. The steady pulse is a relief, causing them to sit back on their haunches with a soft sigh. In the next breath they’re looking at Blackbeard.

“What was that for?!” They don’t receive a response, only Edward calling out a sharp, “Next!” Frenchie shuffles in, seeming to be in high spirits which instantly deflate at the room’s atmosphere. He stares down at Jim and the cabin boy, Jim unconscious and the cabin boy kneeling at their side.

“Hey, Iz said you wanted to… see me.” The cabin boy is delighted to see him unharmed, being one of their closer friends from the crew, and if it weren’t for Jim laying across their lap they would leap across the small space to embrace the man.

“Yes… I heard you can sew.” The gun which he had been idly polishing is raised now, pointed directly at Frenchie, who raises his arms in turn.

“Yep. Sew like the wind.” A nervous chuckle escapes him as he glances between the two threatening men, keeping both Jim and the cabin boy in the corner of his eye, even as loud cackling starts from the two men.

“Get him to work, Fang.” With the dismissal, both Fang and Frenchie leave the same way they came, Frenchie casting one last concerned glance to the two people on the floor. With a slam the door closes behind them and the cabin boy gently lifts Jim from their lap to stand, moving to the front of the desk.

“What the fuck was that about? Where’s the rest of the crew? Why did you do that to Jim? Answer me!” Edward’s gaze flickers from his gun up to his partner, eyes distant and cold as he assesses them. Rather than answering he stands from the chair, coming around to the front of the desk and grasps them by the shoulder.

Pushing open the door to the cabin, he pulls them along to the railing along the side of the ship. At first they don’t know what they’re supposed to be looking at, but then they see it - the crew of the revenge, marooned on a small island.

Dread fills them as the crew frantically wave, hoping to be saved by the ones that purposefully left them there. An even colder feeling drops into their stomach when they are unable to spot one member in particular.

“Where’s Lucius?” A hand resting on their nape is all the answer they need, as it directs their field of view to the crashing waves of the sea. Bile fills their throat, tears bubbling up and breath hitching at the implication.

“Everything’s going as planned, captain.” Of course it’s Izzy Hands who interrupts, standing just behind his captain with his arms folded behind his back. “Jim is secure in the brig and Frenchie has finished the flag.”

“The brig? Why are they in the brig?” At the question Edward tightens his grasp on their nape whilst Izzy remains silent.

“Take them back to my cabin, Iz.” With the command to his first mate he walks away, leaving the cabin boy with the easily angered man. He sneers down at them, grabbing them by the wrist and pushing them in front of him, taking a familiar route back to the captain’s cabin.

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honeycombstrawberry · 2 years

Text

my world seems to shine

pairing: ed teach x reader (gn pronouns) rating: teen word count: 2,434 one-sentence synopsis: you wake up in the middle of the night to find ed gone, and you're sure you know where he went, even if you're not totally sure what's bothering him. author’s note: i'm trying to write more reader fic!! i'm posting some drabbles on here but!! but i also got this request and had to write more for it!! i had to!! here's a little longer fic as a gift!!

>>> read on ao3!! <<<

At first, you’re not sure what’s woken you up.

It takes you a second to realize it’s because you’re alone. Usually, you share the single slung hammock-cot you’re currently nestled in with Ed, but he’s somehow managed to disentangle himself from you and wriggle free without you waking up. You must’ve been incredibly deeply asleep; you don’t know how you didn’t notice, unless he was extremely careful to the point of absurdity.

Knowing Ed, he probably was extremely careful to the point of absurdity. Most things he does are to the point of absurdity.

A glance around you at your other crewmates reveals that nobody else has woken up. If they have, they don’t show it; every pair of eyes is closed, every face turned away. You don’t see Ed amongst them, though you can see Izzy, at a distance, so— Wherever Ed is, he’s not with him.

Frowning, you make your gentle, as-quiet-as-possible way out of the bunk room. On a ship this large, you wish you’d all been given more space to sleep, but— That’s life. You and Ed have been mates for a couple of years, now; he has big plans, talk of taking his own ship and sailing off with you and Izzy and a few other crewmates in tow with him as the captain. He plans, all the time. You’ll believe it when you see it, even though you really, really want to see it.

The thing is— You and Ed—

You share a life, pretty much.

He trusts openly, and quickly; he loves immediately, and absolutely; he will do anything and everything for someone he considers a friend, even if they just met. It’s a strange offset to his chaotic violence, the sharp, prickling edge of him that sometimes flares up into rage, but he’s—

He’s mostly trusting, and soft, and strangely gentle, and just— far too nice for such an intense person. The duality of him, the loving sort of curse that surges through him, all of it is just— It has you loving him. And you—

You share your lives, and you share your time, and you share a hammock. You’re partners in pretty much everything, except you haven’t told him you love him, and he hasn’t told you he loves you. Of course, you love each other; of course, you tell each other that casually. But you’ve never said it with the weight of all it means behind your words; you’ve never kissed him; you’ve never held him and known, known, that he’s holding you back the same way.

You don’t know what’s holding you back. Maybe you’re afraid of hurting him; maybe you’re afraid of him hurting you. Maybe, actually, you’re a little afraid that this could actually work, and last, and you don’t know how to have such a good thing in a life like this and get to keep it.

The thought terrifies you, all the time. You don’t want to lose Ed; you don’t think you can. If he leaves, you can only hope against hope that he really will take you with him.

That terrifying thought, the one where Ed’s gone without you, is what pushes you to keep seeking him out now. You can’t find him below deck, but you didn’t really expect him to be there, anyway. He wanders off, from time to time, to think, or be alone, or just— be, sometimes.

Usually, there’s one main place he’ll go to do this.

You’re not surprised when you go up on deck and find Ed leaning over the railing, staring down into the impossibly dark expanse of the sea below, so deep and shadowed that he couldn’t even begin to see what’s inside, let alone the bottom of it. He’s still searching downwards like he can find something, though, eyes fixed resolutely downward.

One of your mates is still up at the helm; he’s ignoring you, pretending you’re not there. You wonder how long Ed’s been up here like this, but there’s only so much you can do, now. You’re here when you can be; you can’t turn back time.

Approaching slowly in your stocking feet, you barely make a sound. Ed doesn’t seem to realize you’re there until you’re just beside him.

Then, he jumps a bit, catching you in his peripheral vision. A hand clutched to his chest, he says, “Fuck, mate, what the f— I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was,” you say. You mimic his position, planting your forearms on the railing, overlapping each other, supporting your weight as you lean forward to look down into the water, seeing what he’s been looking at. “I thought you were, too.”

“Yeah, well.” You can feel Ed’s dark eyes on the side of your head, still. You turn to meet them, to be swallowed up in them, unable to turn away. He echoes, “I was.”

You offer him what you hope is a reassuring smile, small but solid. A smile of his own twitches beneath the dark beard he’s been growing in, twisting curls that are nearly long enough to brush his chest, now. It matches the dark sweep of his hair, the long tresses of black hair that he’s got gathered up into a sloppy twist at the back of his head, strands of twirling-ivy curls spilling out all over the place. He’s sea-air-rough and freckled with the sun and stronger than you’ve ever seen him.

The breath in your chest catches, lungs abruptly tight. You’ve always known he’s a fairly commanding leader, and a charismatic sort of attention-grabber; he’d make a good captain, tactical and clever and fun and assertive. Now, though— Now, you’re seeing how capable he really does look.

You’re both so much older than you were. You’re adults, people who can set off on your own, and, now, you really think you might even be capable of it. Especially if you’re together.

“Something eating you?” you ask.

He motions at the sea below. “Sharks and shit. All sorts of fucking nonsense.”

“Not literally,” you tell him, though you’re sure he knows that already. “What’s wrong, then? What is it, why aren’t you sleeping?”

He shrugs, one shoulder lifting as he turns back towards the sea again. In the moonlight, he shines. He practically glows, all of that bright full-moon light cast down over his darkness, highlighting his features in moonbeams and starshine and all sorts of incredible things, shadowing him in such dramatic angles that you can’t help the surge of want that courses through you.

You’re always easy with your touches, but this feels— different. This feels more direct, more intentional. This isn’t the two of you joking with each other, or fooling around, where you know this isn’t supposed to mean anything— the same way he’s fooled around with Jack, and Izzy, and and you’ve done the same, various crewmates just to help ease the loneliness.

Nobody eases it like Ed, though. That’s probably part of why you feel emboldened to reach out and touch him, to cup his face in your hand and turn him back towards you until your eyes meet again.

He looks— startled, when you first connect, eyebrows lifting a bit and eyes wider, surprised by your unexpected, firm touch.

“What’s actually bothering you?” you ask, voice slightly lower, as if you’re asking him to tell you a secret. In a way, you are; it’s hard for him to be truly honest, for him to inspect his emotions and convey them accurately and genuinely to you. It’s a struggle for the both of you, honestly; it means a lot that he’s at least trying, that you both are.

After a beat of hesitation, Ed tells you, “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s bothering you,” you tell him, “It’s not. Shit that bothers you festers if you keep it stuffed up inside. Eventually, your ass’ll cork, and you’ll fucking explode.”

He chokes on a laugh, turning into your hand. You don’t know if he means to do it, but he does, his lips gliding across the center of your palm, and your fingers curl up into him automatically, drawing him a bit closer.

His eyes shift up to yours once more, face tilting back again. When you meet, he says, “That’s bullshit,” and you grin.

“Not if you keep this up,” you inform him. “I mean it.” With your free hand, you mime a small explosion over your own chest, trapped between your two bodies. You didn’t realize how close you’d gotten to each other; you didn’t even notice yourself moving, honestly. “Just— Boom. Blood and guts everywhere.”

Ed laughs again, but it ends on a sigh. When your brow creases, a bit, your own amusement starting to slip away in the face of his obvious— agitation, you think you’d call it, he reaches up to catch your wrist in his hand.

His touch is impossibly gentle, when he guides you downwards, threads your fingers together. You’re not sure what he’s going to say, or what to expect. All you know is your heart is pounding up into the back of your throat, and your blood is racing like lightning, and your pulse thunders in your ears, and you’re not sure what’s happening, only that— that something is happening.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ed confesses to you, his voice quiet. You asked for a secret, and he gives one; this vulnerable, honest confession obviously takes a lot out of him. After a beat, he continues, almost in a rush of words, “I want to leave, but I— I can’t until I figure some shit out. And I’m stuck on figuring the shit out. And it fucking— It sucks, man. I think I’m fucking it up.”

“Oh, hey,” you say, squeezing his hand. “You can’t fuck it up that bad, c’mon. What is it?”

Ed hesitates, another beat. Then, he says, “Nah, I shouldn’t— This is stupid, actually,” and shakes his head, and starts to turn away, separating your hands, and your heart leaps in fear, panic, agitation.

“No, wait,” you say quickly. He turns back, brow furrowed; you tighten your grip on his hand, unwilling to release him. “It’s not stupid, I already said that. Just tell me so I can help you fix it.”

“I can’t tell you,” he says.

“Why not?” you demand. “You tell me everything else. I can help.”

“You can’t,” he insists. “It’s not—”

“What, you can’t tell me?” you ask him. Your heart breaks, a little bit. “Is it— Is it about me? Do you want to leave me here?”

“Wh— No,” Ed hurries to assure you. “What the fu— No, not at all!” He runs his hand through his hair, displacing more of the loose strands, falling around his moon-shadowed face. “Fuck, I’m fucking this up so bad. Shit—”

“Fucking what up?” you ask, in the second before he surges down towards you, sealing you in a kiss.

For a second, you’re just— shocked. He meets you with bruising force, kisses into you with teeth, and then separates just as quickly, there and gone in a flash.

You blink upwards at him, startled. There’s a moment where it feels like you’re free-falling, like he’s somehow shoved you over the rail into the sea and you’ve catapulted beneath the waves to drown there. It’s like a dream, and you’re waiting to wake up, but you don’t. It’s real: the pressure of his kiss, and the remnants of his heat, and the blazing way he’s studying you now, barely a breath away, waiting for your response.

You manage to get your mouth open, and say, confused and shell-shocked and overjoyed, “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” he asks. “What d—”

“How could this be fucking up?” you ask him. You can’t stop smiling, taking his hands and drawing him in closer. He’s got a bewildered smile of his own, something puzzled but piecing together. “What, kissing me? That’s what you thought you’d fuck up?”

“I’m not—” Ed starts, then stops. “You know, man. I’m not, like— Good. I’m not a good guy. I do bad things, and shit. I don’t—”

“Hey, whoa, wait,” you tell him, reaching up to catch his face between your rough hands, forcing him to look at you, to meet your eyes. “Slow down. We do the same shit, Ed.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” you insist, unwilling to hear him slandering himself for no reason. “If you’re bad, I’m bad. And you’re not. You’re someone who knows what they want and does it. You’re a good leader, and a brave man, and I l—”

Your breath sticks in your throat, catching thick at the back of your tongue, your lungs impossibly tight. You know how important this is; you can feel the weight of your words, the intensity, the meaning. You’ve said, “I love you,” to him before, but you mean it this time in a way you never have, and that—

That makes it more important to say, the most important to say.

“I love you,” you confess to him, and he exhales all at once.

“You—” he starts, then stops. Leaning in, he asks, all eager terror, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” you insist, surging into him for another kiss. Affection, and awe, and joy, and shock, and pure, sheer happiness surge through you, a feeling that means love and so much more.

Smiling into the kiss with you, separating again, Ed only draws far enough away for his lips to brush yours when he says, “F— I think I love you, too. Like— Really, really love you. Y’know what I mean?”

You nod jerkily, pushing up into him, giving him another quick kiss. Your insides are practically swelling with how much sheer emotion you’re feeling. It’s nearly too much, but you swallow it down, keep it inside, full to bursting. You can’t stop grinning, clutching him closer.

“You’re a good person, Ed,” you murmur against him. He takes your words into his mouth, brings them into himself. You’re hoping he can absorb them, that he can believe them. You place your hand over his pounding heart, smiling when you feel it rabbiting as fast as yours is, if not faster. “You’re really, really good. To me, you’re— You’re perfect.”

Ed captures your face between his rugged hands, drawing you in until your foreheads push together. Smiling, impossibly close, he says, “You are,” and surges into a kiss. The moon shines on you both, fills you both with that wonderfully brilliant starlight until you feel like it’s filling your mouths, your kiss, your hearts, yourselves.

prompts used:

ofmd idea… ed and his partner have their first kiss ..?.?;!.!: his partner is just kind of in awe by him and keeps reminding him how good of a person he is under the moon… u don’t have to write it im just in love with Ed right now (anonymous)

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stedefxckingbonnet · 6 months

Text

headcanons!!

by the way, everyone, i'll also write headcanons! just wanted to put that out there :) please keep the requests coming! i truly enjoy getting to write your ideas! i hope you all enjoy part two of 'eternity' ♡

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izzysprettyhusband · 2 years

Text

The ships sail under the same flag

Izzy x gn!reader

summary: You both are the first mates of different ships, but they are stuck in a quarrel. You are still dependent on each other’s resources. What will the captains choose to do to end this quarrel? (enemies to lovers)

warnings: Cursing, cheesy shit, probably violence and fluff (maybe ooc Izzy)

You had been on Benjamin Hornigold’s crew for quite some time now and had even became first mate. You never really liked how your captain had an ‘underling’ but you stuck up with it because apparently you needed their resources and help. You didn’t mind it though, it was fun teasing the guy, calling him Ed even though you were told to call him ‘Blackbeard’. You thought that name was ridiculous, but wouldn’t dare to go against your captain, so you just kept your mouth shut about it.

Oh boy was it about to get worse.

It had been quite awhile since your captain had last mentored that Blackbeard guy, and he had become a great captain of his own ship. He was feared by everyone, even some of your newer crewmembers feared him. But the truth is that he is a pretty funny guy and a sweetheart in disguise. And his first mate was a dickhead. An absolute asshat.

“Get your head out of the clouds and get your fuckin’ ass back to work!” you heard the man say. Great, why is he aboard your ship?

“Fuck off Jizzy!” you mumbled back and scoffed. You were so not going to deal with this today. You calmly approached your captain and stood beside him.

“Sir, why is Izzy here? Didn’t you say you had an argument with Blackbeard and his crew?” you asked him, bowing ever so slightly. He looked up at you from his spot and replied annoyed yet in a calm tone;”Look, i’d rather throw him overboard too if it weren’t for Blackbeard. Oh and you have to go to Blackbeard’s ship tomorrow with him, we have to try solve the problem and what better way to do so than make you two get along. You started it, after all.” your eyes widened. There was no way your captain would do that to you, right? Wrong.

“Sir, that’s a joke, right? Please tell me that’s a joke.” you questioned, nervously. He just shook his head and waved for you to go. You scoffed and left to go pack what you needed, who knows how long you will have to stay there. Izzy was such a prick and was the meanest to you out of everyone else.

You woke up to Izzy throwing shit at your head, making you groan and pull your blanket to cover yourself.

“Get your stupid fuckin’ ass up, captain wants to talk to you” he huffed and threw another pillow at you. You lazily sat up, still trying to adjust to being awake. You rubbed your eyes and threw the blanket elsewhere, and when the chilly air hit your skin you remembered you had taken off your shirt before going to sleep. You shivered and looked up at Izzy, vision still kind of blurry from sleep. Was he....blushing? No, there was no way he was blushing, it was probably just your mind playing tricks on you. You got up and lazily threw your clothes back on, stepping into your boots and putting your jacket over your shoulders. You ruffled your hair, desperately trying to style it. You flipped Izzy off and stepped outside of your shared room into the cool sea breeze with Izzy right behind you. Blackbeard was up in his usual spot with that Stede he had found a few weeks back. He was a bizarre little man and quite the dumbass when it came to pirating, but he was nice. His crew was bizarre too, and they seem to be pretending that they hated him. But of course in reality they loved him dearly, he was their captain and a nice one at that.

“Ah, Izzy, (y/n), thank you for coming. You know why you’re here, right?” Blackbeard spoke. You nodded your head and shot a glance at Izzy, making him frown.

“Cap’n, i still don’t think this is a good idea-”

“Oh shut up Iz, you two are the reason for this mess so you two will have to solve it.”

“Ed i would rather jump overboard-”

“As would i.” you cut him off. Blackbeard just scoffed.

“Look, you have something in common! Maybe you will get along. Now go.” He responded calmly, making you two grunt. You turned to leave and as you walked you could’ve sworn you saw Izzy smirk. You just rolled your eyes and went over to Lucius, who was sketching the two captains. You sat on the railing beside him, glaring murderously at Izzy. You continued staring for a while until he looked back at you, making you turn away and blush. Why were you staring at him?

“Oh for fuck’s sake just kiss him already” Lucius scoffed, making you fall off of the railing, right into Izzy’s arms.

“I said kiss him not fall for him idiot!” he yelled down at you, making you flip him off. You got off of Izzy and dusted yourself off.

“I don’t like like him you cocksucker!” you spat at him, turning around to face Izzy, who was a blushing mess.

oh god he was handsome. So handsome.

It was getting late and the whole crew was up on the deck, celebrating yet another successful robbery of a Spanish ship. The tension between you and Mr. Hands was high up, especially after you almost stabbed him during a fight. And the tension was not subtle, every single crewmember noticed it. He was glaring daggers at you and you grunted angrily every time he got too close. Everyone was on edge, afraid of what might happen if you got pushed far enough.

“Ed i swear if you don’t throw that rat off the ship i will-” he started but you drew your sword, pointing it at his face.

“I am not a rat. You take it back or fight me.” You mumbled, looking the man right in his eyes. He let out a laugh as the others backed away from you two, knowing where this will end.

“Oh but you are a rat. A filthy one at that-” he said, drawing his sword but you cut him off by charging at him. Your sword clanged against his as you bit your lip in anger. Your face was mere inches from his and he was surprised that you managed to get that close.

“Best to talk you fucking leech, sucking the life out of everyone who dares come close and love you.” You spat at him, swinging your sword once again. He dodged and started backing up, defending himself whenever you tried to wave your sword at him. The clangs and sparks from the swords hitting another were small but still way too much, making the crew back up even more. You were now standing there with your swords crossed, almost nose-to-nose. He managed to draw his dagger out as he stabbed you in the left side of your stomach, making you wince and fall to your knees in front of him. Everyone gasped and quieted down. You looked up at the man in front of you as he bent down slightly.

“You know, you’re not too bad of a fighter. But you let your anger take over you. How pathetic.” the last two words rang in your ears as he backed away and slicked his hair back. You blushed at the thought that you just were kneeling in front of him, weak and vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

“Why..?” you asked him, fully expecting him not to answer.

“Why the left side... You could have ended me right there but you didn’t..why?” You continued. he looked back at you and responded in an annoyed tone; “No reason to kill you. Besides you are pretty useful considering your skills and experience.” Your eyes widened in shock. Were you just complimented by him??

You had started training with Izzy more often and found yourself growing to like this man, and you really hoped nobody noticed. You still pretended like you hated him but only so you had stay on the ship with him. It had been weeks since you last boarded your own ship and you did not miss one single bit of it. Every night when the crew is going to sleep, Stede would read you all a bedtime story and tuck you in. Izzy acted like he hated it but you could tell he kind of enjoyed it. Sometimes he would pretend to fall asleep next to you so you would lean against each other without being teased to death.

“I wonder when they will kiss.” Lucius whispered to Black Pete and looked back at you and Izzy sword fighting.

“I bet 10 gold coins they’ll kiss in a week.” Black Pete replied

“Mmn no, i say tonight.” He laughed back at the bald man, who shook his head and laughed.

You sighed as you bowed and put your sword down. You were both exhausted and in need of a good bath.

“Hey Iz? Do you think Stede would let us use his bath?” You asked him, taking deep breaths and wiping sweat off your forehead. The man shrugged with a sigh and said; “Dunno, go ask him and if he says yes then let’s go” Your face immediately lit up as you ran to ask Stede for permission.

“Bathing together? Wow you are sure moving fast.” Lucius teased when you got back, making you and Izzy blush.

“That is not what i meant- I swear i will beat you up Lucius!!” You yelled and pulled your dagger out and threw it right next to his head, hitting the planks behind him.

You sank your naked body into the warm soap water and relaxed in an instant. It had been forever since your last real bath and it felt like you were floating in heaven. You heard the door open and it startled you a bit, but seeing as it was just Izzy you relaxed again and closed your eyes. Izzy came and sat on the opposite side of the tub, creating small waves in the water as he lowered himself. The tub was quite big as it fit the two of you, but your legs would still occasionally brush against each other.

The silence was so loud and yet so comfortable, neither of you said a word, just calm breathing and occasional water droplets falling into the tub. There were candles lit around the bath because it was already pretty dark, and it created a romantic atmosphere. You blushed lightly and opened your eyes, just to see Izzy looking at you with a smile and rose tinted cheeks.

“There’s something i have to tell you...” he started, swallowing dryly. You didn’t let him finish before you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.

“Oh..”

“I love you too Iz”

-------------------------------------------------

should i do a part two or leave it there-

anygays hope ya liked it

#izzy hands #izzy #izzy hands x reader #izzy apologist #ofmd #ofmd izzy #ofmd x reader #izzy hands x gn! reader #gender neutral #fluff #omg i am so gay

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babblydrabbly · 1 year

Text

Day 12 | Edward Teach x Reader

a/n - @flufftober. Some Blackbeard love <3 Pre-Season 1.

prompt - 'you kept this?'

fluff - 580 words - warnings: imprisonment. gn!reader. childhood friends. can be read as platonic.

The brig of this ship is just as dim and gloomy as every other pirate vessel. You scrape the heel of your boot across the grimy floorboards as you sit there in silence. Above, the rabble of his crew can be heard dying down, until you can only assume it's late into the night or early morning.

A glint. You sit up straighter in the torchlight when you feel his presence— The aura he put on for his men and enemies. You knew the man long before the legend, but even you could understand why Edward Teach was so feared.

He says nothing, taking his time as he makes his way to the bars keeping you prisoner.

There’s plenty on the captain’s person to catch your eye; Knives. Stolen jewelry. Scars. But what you see in particular isn’t some piece of gold or silver. You collect yourself up off the ground and stand tall before him— though you’re still quite a few inches shorter.

Your fingers reach off from beyond the bars, your wrists still roped together. Ed remains still as you brush the salt and pepper hairs of his beard gently to the side. He already knows what you’re prodding curiously for.

The shell has seen more wear than you last remember. A small, white cone with brown spots. The two brass beads keeping it in place on its leather cord glint again in the light as you move the necklace this way and that.

“You killed one of my men.” Ed greets you darkly.

“He was trying to kill me.”

The captain considers this and nods. You’re still appraising the trinket as he reaches down to unlock the cell.

“...I can’t believe you kept this.” You utter.

He lifts one shoulder a fraction before dropping it in a shrug. “‘S a nice shell.”

“Not worth much.” You point out. You step out of the way to let Ed inside. He takes a seat on the creaking wooden bench against the wall and you do the same.

“No. Guess that’s why I didn’t bother selling it off.”

You roll your eyes. “Go on. Tell me how you think of me every time you clasp it.”

“I’ll throw it out this porthole right now.”

The corner of his eyes crinkle as you cup a hand over your mouth, smothering your laughter.

“Don’t need trinkets to think of you.” Ed adds eventually. Into the silence. His soft murmur melts with the creak of the ship, and both feel so much like home it stokes a warm flame in your belly. You pick at your nails idly as Ed scoots his boot over to yours, tapping them lightly together.

The two of you speak in hushed voices well into the night— of what you’ve already heard through the grapevine of each other’s conquests, and of your own sides to the stories. You’re unsurprised that half the rumors floating around about Ed continue to be bullshit. But you delight in the way he’s clearly proud of his cunning. In truth, you always marveled at it.

Dawn pours its pale light into the lower decks when another crew member finally comes down to check on you.

The man stares dumbly at the open cell door and at Edward, who shrugs when asked what happened to you. The pirate quakes, expecting punishment for letting a prisoner vanish from sight. Instead, Ed stands from the bench and shoulders past him with the small necklace nestled in his fist.

Patting him on the back, Ed sighs. “Must have gotten away. Always does.”

#flufftober #flufftober 2022 #day 12 #ofmd #Edward teach #Edward teach x reader #Edward teach x you #gn!reader #mywords*

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boinitwdidthat · 2 years

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Honestly, I've never wrote on here directly before but I'm craving more fandom content. So I may just start writing some myself to satiate that crave 👀

#ofmd fic #izzy x reader #ofmd x reader #jim jimenez #newbie #gn reader #male reader #slashers #yautja #overwatch #arcane #x reader

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brwnicons · 2 years

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Some fluff scenarios/blurbs about the little angry man who owns my heart

Izzy Hands x Reader

☆ I'm sorry this is so messy -I couldn't order my thoughts about him so blurbs it is ☆

▪︎ Hugging Izzy is one of the best feelings to ever exist. He is uncomfortable with this kind of intimacy when in front of the crew, but as soon as you two are left alone it's him who will throw himself at your arms as he buries his head on the crook of your neck. When he is so close you can smell better his scent of rum and sea breeze, he loves being squeezed when hugged even he prefers not doing it to you because he is afraid he may hurt you. Bonus points if you pet his soft hair as you whisper him gentle words of affection. He will probably end up sobbing on your shoulder so, handle with care.

▪︎You know that scene where Ed and Stede are eating a snake? One of my favs btw

Well, imagine eating with Izzy one night, outside, by a campfire. Just the two of you. He loves to stargaze with you, helping you remember some constellations he knows by heart.

You could ramble about whatever thing that comes to your mind and he will listen with a dumb enamored grin on his face. He won't talk as much as you, but he will tell you anecdotes no one else in the crew knows. He also makes jokes and funny remarks if you're the one that tells the anecdote so he can listen to your laugh, the sound he could listen for hours and for which he has completly fallen.

▪︎It won't take you too much effort to convince him to teach you swordfighting. Even if you already manage yourself he is willing to teach you a few more techniques and tricks so you handle it better.

He just wants you to be safe. He normally accompanies you when approaching dangerous places so he can keep an eye on you and protect you if needed, but what if somehow you end up alone and hurt because you couldn't defend yourself? It's a thought he just can't digest.

But, be careful, this man has no mercy when it comes to teach you. He knows that the price of his bad lessons is your future harm, so he won't be easy on you.

Therefore, expect bruises and little cuts from his lessons, nothing too serious but just as painful as to encourage you to either dodge or block his sword thrusts.

▪︎ He has trouble sleeping but when he does he's the most adorable man. When he is deep asleep he leaves soft snores and loves to be held! He loves being little spoon and having you hug him, your warm body comforts him if he wakes up in the middle of the night because of the nightmares.

Speaking of, he does not have them everyday, he usually doesn't even dream, but when he does have them they're terrifying. He suddenly wakes up covered in a cold sweat, gasping for air as he touches the bed frenetically in an attempt to find you.

As soon as he glimpses your worried face he is mumbling every kind of apology as he throws himself in your arms to hug you tightly. When you soothe him with soft, reassuring words in an attempt to erase the memories of his previous nightmares he starts sobbing, begging you not to leave him.

Don't waste your time trying to wipe off his tears, kissing them away will only make him cry even more. He truly adores you.

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collinrobinsonsglasses · 4 months

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Too Soft to Be a Pirate

Izzy Hands X Reader (GN)

Chapter 12 of a series, but I think you could read a lot of these separately and understand what's happening.

Summary: You run into your ex and Izzy has feelings about it. <3 It's the moment you've been waiting for. The rest of this story hasn't been super smutty, so I didn't want to make this chapter over the top. It's definitely a little spicer though with a ton of fluff. This is not based off a specific episode of ofmd.

Warnings: The reader has an anxiety attack just in case that's triggering for people to read about.

Chapter 12: Ex Marks the Spot

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

{Next Chapter}

Your peaceful slumber in your hammock was interrupted by the subtle pressure of Izzy’s hand squeezing your knee, rousing you from the depths of sleep. An initial wave of annoyance washed over you at being woken so early.

“Five minutes, on the deck,” Izzy’s hushed voice reached your ears, carrying an air of authority.

“Why?” you groaned, your hand instinctively moving to rub the sleep from your eyes, while you attempted to avoid the man standing in front of you, by further cocooning yourself into your hammock.

“That’s an order. Stop fucking complaining,” Izzy responded with a gentle yet firm tone. Although you couldn’t see his face anymore, a vivid mental image of the eye roll he was likely indulging in manifested itself in your head. You knew that questioning his request any further was useless.

Emerging onto the deck, your arrival coincided with the rays of the rising sun, casting a warm glow over the ship. There, in the heart of the deck, Izzy waited holding two gleaming swords. With a fluid motion, he tossed one towards you, the metallic gleam reflecting the soft morning light.

As the sword landed in your grasp, a subtle disappointment gnawed at you. The realization dawned that this was the cause of your early awakening, and you couldn’t help but glance down at the weapon in your hands, disappointed that this was the reason for the lost moments of sleep. When you met Izzy’s eyes again, you give him a pleading look, a pair of puppy dog eyes silently questioning the rationale behind this unexpected training session.

“Don’t give me that fucking look,” Izzy retorted, his tone sounding exasperated, yet the swift response betrayed a vulnerability he tried to hide. Your pleading look had a way of working on him, and he struggled to conceal the impact.

“When was the last time you trained with a sword?” he inquired, regaining his composure.

“I don’t remember,” you admitted in a hushed tone, fully aware that the answer was sometime before your wrist was fractured. Since then, the blade had been a neglected companion, untouched during the months of recovery.

“Months,” Izzy scolded, his tone firm. “Stede’s got plans for a raid today, but you won’t be part of it unless you can convince me you still remember how to use a sword.”

“I do know how to use a sword,” you grumbled quietly, your nose scrunching in annoyance.

“Then prove it,” Izzy responded, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Why am I the only one up here? Where’s the rest of the crew?” you protested with a whine. “Why just me?”

Izzy shot you a look, a silent declaration that the debate was over. It was clear - this morning’s training was reserved just for you. In that moment, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the power of Izzy’s gaze; it held sway over you that mirrored the influence your own puppy dog eyes had on him.

The clash of steel echoed across the ship’s deck as you engaged in a spirited sword fight with Izzy. Despite the lack of recent practice, muscle memory kicked in, and your movements became a dance of controlled aggression. However, it didn’t escape your notice that Izzy was holding back. His strikes were deliberate but measured. He was gauging your abilities without fully unleashing his own. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead. The lesson persisted until Izzy, seemingly satisfied with his assessment, allowed you a moment of rest.

“You can fight today,” Izzy relented, his tone carrying a hint of concession, “but Fang will still be keeping an eye on you.” You shot him an annoyed glance, silently protesting the need for an extra set of eyes monitoring your every move.

“Oh, come on,” Izzy teased, a playful grin playing on his lips as he reached to gently lift your chin. “Let me make you a coffee. Stop being a twat.”

Despite your initial grumpiness, his teasing paired with his warm touch earned a genuine smile from you. You couldn’t help but appreciate Izzy’s concern and the lengths he went to ensure your safety. You followed him below deck towards the promise of coffee.

The next hour unfolded in the cozy embrace of the ship's galley, where you found yourself seated, leisurely sipping on a cup of coffee while engaged in easy banter with Izzy. The morning sunlight filtered through the small portholes, casting a gentle glow on the wooden interior, creating an intimate setting for the shared moments. Reluctantly, you admitted to yourself that the sacrifice of an early awakening was a small price to pay for these stolen moments with Izzy.

Both of you ascended back to the deck, and you immediately noticed Fang using a spyglass to scan the vast expanse of the open sea. As Izzy took charge, issuing orders to the crew, you gravitated toward Fang, greeting him with a nod.

“Morning,” Fang sang in his characteristic cheerful tone. “We’re closing in on a ship for the raid. Want to see?” he offered, extending the spyglass toward you.

With curiosity you took the slender glass, aligning it with the direction Fang had been facing. As the distant ship came into focus, an unexpected wave of unease swept over you. You knew that ship. A sudden drop in your stomach felt almost like a free fall, and for a brief moment, the edges of your vision seemed to be tinged with black. Concerned that you might faint, you hastily passed the spyglass back to Fang, gripping the side of the ship for support.

Fang, noticing the sudden shift, inquired softly, “Hey, what’s the matter?” His expression transformed from casual cheerfulness to genuine concern as he placed a reassuring hand on your back, ready to offer support.

A sharp intake of breath accompanied your swift revelation. “That’s my old ship,” you stated quickly, the words leaving your lips like a hurried confession. The realization hit you with a force you hadn’t anticipated. You bent down, letting your head rest against the edge of the wooden ship.

“I think I need to find somewhere to sit, Fang,” you uttered, your voice barely above a breath. Breathing deeply in an attempt to steady yourself, the taste of your morning coffee felt bitter on your tongue, and the ship beneath your feet felt like unsteady ground. The prospect of confronting the man who had tossed you into the ocean had triggered a visceral reaction.

“Oh, shit,” Fang murmured, as he comprehended the weight of your words. Without hesitation, he practically scooped you up in his arms. Fang, knew the ghosts of your past, understood the magnitude of the situation almost instantly.

“The captains will know what to do,” Fang reassured himself, his tone a mix of determination and worry. Swiftly, he whisked you away towards Stede’s cabin, his arms cradling you securely. Bursting into the cabin, Fang wasted no time sitting you down onto the couch that adorned Stede’s quarters.

“What’s all this then?” Stede huffed, rising from the breakfast table where he and Ed were seated, a look of curiosity etched across his features.

Fang stepped forward, taking on the responsibility of explaining the situation on your behalf. “The ship we were planning to raid is their old ship,” he revealed.

Edward reacted swiftly, pushing back his chair with a clatter and abandoning the table without uttering a word. His movements were purposeful as he headed towards Stede’s auxiliary closet, leaving everyone with a sense of anticipation.

Stede’s gaze shifted between the unfolding scene and the absent Edward. “Well?” he prompted, addressing Fang. “What does that mean?”

Fang shot you a nervous glance to see if you’d begin to speak but he recognized that you weren’t in the best headspace. “They got pushed off their last ship, by the man they loved, Timothy was his name I think,” Fang explained, then offered a detailed account of the story to Stede, who absorbed the information with a furrowed brow. Meanwhile, Edward remained absent.

Seated on the couch, you drew your legs up and wrapped your arms around them, trying to shrink. As Fang narrated the story to Stede a million thoughts raced through your head and you couldn’t grasp onto any single one.

Your gaze followed Edward as he emerged from Stede’s closet, he had shed the distinctive bag-like garment and kitty collar he was wearing before and reverted to his familiar leather attire. Stede’s immediate reaction was an exasperated sigh, “Ed! What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go kill that motherfucker,” Ed declared. “That’s what I’m doing.” “Edward, stand down,” Stede commanded firmly, a note of authority in his voice. “We need to ask them what they want. Look at them,” he urged, gesturing toward you.

Ed’s fierce anger melted into genuine worry as he observed the emotional turmoil reflected in your eyes. Bending down to your level, his tone softened, “Little mouse, what do you want us to do if he’s still on the ship?” The tenderness in his question surprised you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, uncertainty lacing your words. “What should I do?”

Stede joined Edward, offering his support as he whispered, “It might be good to talk it through.” Edward shot Stede with a look of concern. “Stede, last time they talked it through, they got pushed overboard. I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” he replied with firm resolve.

Stede, eager to find a compromise, suggested, “Maybe we can lock him up in the brig, so they can talk. Would that work?” It was a practical solution, an attempt to create a controlled space for dialogue while minimizing the risk.

You nodded in agreement, torn between the fear of confronting the past and the apprehension of future regrets if you did nothing. The uncertainty weighed heavily, leaving you caught in the crossfire of conflicting emotions.

“It’s decided then.” Stede declared with authority. “I guess I need to go fill in the rest of the crew.” While Stede moved to leave his cabin, Edward stood up and pulled Fang aside, exchanging hushed words in a private conversation. Even at a whisper, his words carried to your ears, “Go update Izzy about this, Fang, before Stede announces it to the crew. He’s not going to fucking like this.” Just like Fang, the gravity of the situation was not lost on Edward.

Edward crouched down again, his hand gently finding its place on your arm, which was still tightly wrapped around your legs. “We’ll sort this,” he assured firmly, “Fang is talking to Iz…knowing him, he’ll be in here in a second, so I’m going to leave. I think I’m the last person he’ll want to see here with you.” Ed gave your arm a final reassuring pat before rising and heading towards the door leading onto the deck.

Alone for the first time, your body granted you the space to release the floodgate of emotions that had been tightly pent up. The idea of confronting the man who had inflicted such profound hurt twisted your stomach into knots, and tears welled up almost instantaneously. Slowly, the silent tears transformed into audible sobs. A profound sense of helplessness enveloped you. All the feelings you believed you had healed from came rushing back, as if you were reliving the initial agony again for the very first time.

The creaking of the cabin door signaled someone’s entrance, but you resisted the urge to look up. Instead, you kept your head buried in your thighs, legs still tightly curled up in a ball parallel to your chest. Displaying vulnerability was never your strong suit, a trait shared by many in the crew. You sensed someone taking a seat on the couch beside you. Although it wasn’t difficult to guess who it was, a wave of embarrassment kept your head firmly planted on your legs, hesitant to meet his eyes.

The gentle touch on your head confirmed what you suspected - Izzy had silently joined you in the cabin. His hand, warm and comforting, rested tenderly on your head, while his thumb traced soothing patterns up and down the back of your neck. The simple gesture worked, slowing the rapid pace of your breathing and providing a feeling of solid ground in the flood of emotions that had consumed you.

Izzy’s touch continued its calming dance until the tension in the air began to lift, and you felt secure enough to lift your head and meet his eyes. As your gaze connected with his, you couldn’t help but wonder what reflection stared back at him - a puffy, red-eyed version of yourself, no doubt. Unfazed, Izzy’s hands moved for your head to gently cup your face, his thumbs now taking on the tender role of wiping away the lingering tears that adorned your cheeks.

“What do you need?” Izzy whispered, his voice bearing a weight that echoed the pain coursing through you.

“I don’t know,” you responded, your voice quivering. “I don’t know why I’m feeling like this. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Stop talking like that,” Izzy retorted gently, but a simmering anger underscored his words. “You are not stupid. The fucking twat who made you feel this way is stupid… Stupid fucking twat.” During Izzy’s response, his hands left your face, curling into tight fists on his legs as if ready to confront the very source of your distress.

“Izzy, will you stay here with me?” you asked earnestly, a plea laced with vulnerability. “I think that’s what I need.” “Of course,” Izzy responded without hesitation.

Gently stretching your legs out on the couch, you rested your head on his thigh. His hand found you again - his fingers running through your hair in a soothing rhythm. In the quiet intimacy of the cabin, being with Izzy served as a reminder that things were different than before. The feelings still felt overwhelming, but with Izzy and the rest of the crew you were safe.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Once news arrived that the raid had concluded, Izzy guided you onto the deck, his hand resting firmly on your back until you both were in everyone’s sight. He couldn’t decide if his touches were more for your comfort or his own. The sight of you in pain stirred an anguish within Izzy, and his deepest desire was to mend the hurt in any way possible. Wiping the tears from your face and enveloping you in his arms provided him with a sense of purpose, an action in the face of the unavoidable pain you were experiencing. The burning desire to kill the man who had caused you such distress surged within Izzy, fueled by the possibility that he was likely among the crew of the ship that was just raided. Yet, for your sake, he planned to temper his own impulses.

The crew had gathered the prisoners from the raid on The Revenge, awaiting the identification of the man their captains had spoken about. Blackbeard separated you from Izzy, pulling you aside and whispering quietly in your ear. Izzy's gaze remained fixed, watching intently as you nervously pointed to one of the captured crew members. Izzy scrutinized the man you had pointed to trying to gauge his presence and assess him. A recollection surfaced in Izzy's mind: Timothy was the name Edward had used when recounting your story to him on The Queen Anne's Revenge. He was around your age, stood tall, his brunette hair seemingly catching the light. His stature, combined with a confident demeanor, grated on Izzy's nerves. Even in the midst of being restrained, Timothy’s presence managed to emit an air of self-assuredness, intensifying the rage that was simmering beneath the surface.

Blackbeard commanded Fang to apprehend the identified man and confine him to the brig. As Fang executed the order, dragging him away, Izzy observed the unfolding scene with a keen eye. Timothy, finally seeing you for the first time, had an expression on his face resembling that of someone who had seen a ghost. As the twat called out your name, Izzy's attention shifted to you. The nuances of your reaction didn't escape him. There was a fleeting wince, a subtle recoiling at the sound of Timothy’s voice calling your name, but you ignored him.

Fang delivered a swift punch to the man's stomach on the way to the brig, eliciting a yelp of pain. "Fang!" you reprimanded your friend, disapproving of the unnecessary aggression.

"Sorry, he just slipped into my fist," Fang replied with a smug grin. "I don't know what happened."

Izzy couldn't help but smirk at Fang's action, he was relieved the crew shared his protective instincts towards you.

"I knew it!" Roach declared triumphantly to Frenchie once the chaos had settled.

"Were you two betting on who Timothy was?" you questioned Roach with a curious tone.

As you spoke to your friends, Izzy, feigning disinterest, deliberately kept his focus on other matters around the ship. He positioned himself far enough away, cautious not to draw attention to his listening ears. The eavesdropping distance provided a subtle vantage point from which he could hear the unfolding conversation without making his investment too obvious.

"Yes. Frenchie thought it was that guy," Roach replied, pointing to an elderly sailor who appeared to be about 80 years old.

Izzy felt a pang of worry, concerned that any teasing directed at you in this moment might risk breaking your calm composure. However, his anxiety began to ease as he witnessed a genuine grin spread across your face – the most authentic expression he had seen since the news had broken that morning. The sight brought a welcomed relief, reassuring Izzy that your resilient spirit was still present despite everything you were feeling.

"What the fuck, Frenchie? He's ancient!" you exclaimed, playfully punching him in the arm.

"Ow," Frenchie responded, holding his arm in mock pain. "I thought you were into older guys." He teased, prompting a lighthearted exchange.

Izzy observed as a deep shade of red crept across your features in response to Frenchie's comment, and you briefly glanced around.

Swiftly, you hushed Frenchie, attempting to quell the potentially embarrassing situation. "Stop betting on my love life," you whispered back to the pair of men, your words carrying a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Curiosity filled Izzy, but he recognized that this wasn't the moment to delve into those thoughts. His immediate concern was ensuring that you made it through the day, and that took precedence over anything else.

Several of the captured crew members, along with their captain, recognized you. Izzy observed as you graciously greeted each of them, offering apologies for the inconvenience. He couldn't understand your kindness, wondering why you would show mercy to those who hadn’t protected you like they should have. The men who recognized you did appear relieved and grateful to see you alive and well. While it didn't come as a shock that you had forged connections with them during your time on their ship, Izzy marveled at your ability to connect with almost anyone.

"Iz," you called out, capturing his attention as you walked up to him, interrupting his thoughts about you. "You can say no, but… would you be there with me when I talk to him?"

Izzy replied with a small nod. A wave of relief washed over him, grateful that you had asked him to accompany you. The idea of leaving you alone with that twat might have been impossible for him. If he was being honest, a deep curiosity stirred within him about meeting someone you used to love, paired with an undeniable feeling of jealousy. No, Izzy thought to himself, you shouldn't be alone in there with him.

Izzy’s keen eyes followed your every move as you paced the length of the ship with an air of nervous energy. For what felt like an eternity, you traversed the deck. Every now and then, when it seemed you were on the verge of descending below deck, you abruptly changed direction, as if caught in a perpetual cycle.

As you began the cycle anew, Izzy quickly intervened, stepping in to halt your pacing, his grip on your shoulders gentle but firm, reminiscent of past moments. "You don't have to talk to him," Izzy whispered. If it were Izzy's decision, the confrontation would have started and ended with a swift thrust of his blade, but the idea of "talking it through," instilled by Stede Bonnet, wove itself deeply into the fabric of this crew. With the resurgence of the Kraken, Izzy found himself considering that perhaps, against his instincts, Stede might have been right all along.

Your gaze remained fixed on his chest, as if peering through him, likely pondering his remark. “I know,” you sighed, “but I feel like I’ll regret it if I don’t say anything.” Izzy observed the transformation on your face, shifting from distraction to determination, and your eyes met his. “I need this to finally be done.” With those words, you left Izzy’s grasp, making your way below deck. Swiftly, Izzy followed, aware you were likely headed to the prisoner.

“You’ve got this,” echoed Fang’s encouraging shout from the deck as the two of you descended below.

Izzy watched the final deep breath you took before entering the area that held the brig. There was a strength in your demeanor, a contrast from the morning, yet Izzy couldn’t shake the concern that lingered about how this conversation might affect you. It remained too unpredictable.

The brig was a dimly lit, confined space tucked away in the belly of the ship. A series of iron bars formed the cell structure, allowing a glimpse into the confined space. The flickering light of a lantern suspended from a hook on the wall cast uneven shadows. Sparse and functional, the brig had a simple wooden bench fixed to one side. Timothy, seated upon it with his head resting on his hands, looked up at the sound of approaching company. Swiftly rising, he moved towards the bars of his cell, as he uttered your name once again, this time in a mix of shock and recognition.

“Timothy,” you uttered flatly in response, a stark greeting that revealed little emotion. Despite your stoic demeanor, Izzy knew you well enough to tell that you were still scared. Yet, you persevered, putting on a brave face in front of this fucking twat.

“You’re alive,” he whispered back, Izzy visibly rolled his eyes at the statement but remained quietly standing further away, wanting to respect your space.

“I know. That must be a surprise for you,” you replied dryly, your tone devoid of any warmth.

“I’ve thought about you every day since you fell off the ship, hoping you were alive,” he responded, his words carrying a tone of pleading sincerity.

“Since I fell?” you asked, your cool composure giving way.

Izzy studied your face, discerning something he had never witnessed before. Muscles tensed beneath your skin, evident in the way your jaw clenched and your fist tightened at your sides. Your posture shifted, becoming more rigid, as if every muscle in your body was ready for a fight. Izzy, accustomed to your usual composure, couldn’t help but note the unfamiliar contours of your rage, a sight both alarming and mesmerizing.

“You pushed me,” you spat, each word drawn out with a venomous precision that cut through the air.

“Pushed you?” Timothy replied with feigned shock. “I was trying to catch you. I tried to get help, but it was too late.”

Izzy watched as this ponce addressed you with an air of condescension, as if attempting to portray you as clueless and naive, working to convince you that you were misremembering what happened. Izzy clenched his jaw. It took every ounce of self-control not to storm across the room and deliver a punch that would wipe the smugness off this man’s face.

You maintained silence in response to Timothy’s words, prompting him to continue. “It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you’re alive. We can sail together again. You and I, just like the old days.”

“How long did it take for them to leave you? A month? A week?” you responded smugly, a sarcastic curl to your lips that hinted at your disdain. Izzy assumed you were referring to the person he left you for, the one he deemed worth throwing you overboard for. Izzy observed the man in the brig, and the cracks in his composed mask became visible at your comment, anger flashing in his eyes.

“I left them,” he muttered through clenched teeth, but quickly regained his composure, reverting to the role he was playing. “I missed you too much. It killed me.”

Izzy watched as your hands wrapped around the cold bars of his cell, leaning in closer to convey your unwavering resolve. “I will never go anywhere with you again,” you whispered, the words reverberating through the confined space.

“Oh come on,” he pleaded in a hushed tone, arrogance still echoing in every word. “You’re happy here? With a bunch of pirates?”

Your response was a smug smile and nod, a nonchalant retort that only fueled his growing anger. “I know you still love me,” he insisted, leaning even closer into the bars, narrowing the distance between you.

“No fucking way,” you responded firmly, the rage still evident in your eyes.

“Oh I see. You’ve met someone else” he sneered, his fingers snaking through the bars to grab your wrist. “You’ve found someone else to follow around. Who is it?”

Izzy snapped immediately, his gaze turning fierce as he watched this man lay hands on you. “You will get your fucking hand off them, twat, or I’ll happily cut it off.” Izzy growled, his protective instinct kicking into overdrive.

The man quickly released your wrist, and Izzy pulled you back from the cell with swift determination. Though it was only a matter of seconds, Izzy knew he’d never allow this fucker to get close to you again.

Timothy began to laugh, his eyes shifting between the two of you. “Him?” he chided, gesturing towards Izzy.

Izzy nervously glanced at your face, anticipating a hint of embarrassment or shame. However, to his surprise, you appeared certain, resolute in the face of the man’s taunts.

You didn’t retreat back to the cage; instead, you stood taller, asserting your presence next to Izzy. “Yes,” you proclaimed, your voice unwavering, “him.” Izzy observed Timothy glaring at both of you, but you didn’t falter. Instead, you continued speaking with a calm determination. “He is a hundred times better than the man you pretend to be. He’s strong, loyal, and one of the smartest sailors I’ve ever met. I’m safe when I’m with him.”

Izzy felt, for a second, like he was in a dream. A surreal moment where reality blurred with his deepest desires. For a fleeting moment, he tried to reason with himself, attempting to talk himself out of what he was hearing. You were admitting you still cared for him, and it didn’t seem like a mere performance for the man who had broken your heart, It seemed genuine. The words echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t dismiss the sincerity in your voice. The weight of the admission hung in the air, and for the first time, Timothy found himself without a response.

Timothy’s silence seemed to embolden you, and you continued your speech with a quiet yet firm resolve, as if the words had been rehearsed in your mind hundreds of times. “When my mother died, you were the only one I had left. You were my family. That’s why I’ve been so blind to what a complete and utter ass you are,” you said, your voice steady. “But I want to thank you because you pushing me off that ship is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I have a real family here now–not only Izzy, but everyone else on this crew.”

The weight of your gratitude for the new family you had found on The Revenge lingered in the air, and Izzy felt a profound understanding of your words.

You turned to leave, but Timothy spoke again, venom lacing his words. “You were always pathetic,” he hissed, the bitterness evident in his tone. “Always following me around like a puppy dog. The attention was fun at first, but then it just got boring.”

“Just give him back to his captain, Iz,” you said flatly, unfazed by his attempt to provoke you. “He’s not worth it,” With that, you left the brig, heading back on deck.

Now alone, Timothy redirected his comments toward Izzy with a sly tilt of his head. “You’ll get tired of them too one day. You’ll see. When you need your space you can always use my method… just a little push.”

Izzy, fueled by a surge of anger, grabbed Timothy through the bars, slamming his head against the hard metal of the door. Timothy yelped in pain, but Izzy continued holding him tightly, leaning menacingly toward him. “I’ve met some stupid fucking twats during my lifetime, but you are number fucking one. If it was up to me, you’d be tied to an anchor and dropped to the bottom of the ocean.” Izzy let go of the man with a forceful shove, causing him to fall onto the ground. “They,” Izzy spat, gesturing towards the spot where you had just stood, “are the only reason you’re still alive because every person on this crew would happily gut you otherwise. You lost something precious, and I’m never going to let myself make that mistake.”

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

After leaving the brig, you sought out Stede and informed him of your decision to send Timothy back to his ship. The conversation inside the cell probably wasn’t what Stede had imagined when he suggested you talk it through, yet you felt a sense of relief that it was finally over. Timothy’s true colors had been shown, revealing his manipulative nature that you were grateful to have escaped.

You made your way to the bow, leaning against the banister — the familiar spot where introspection came easier to you. You contemplated what Izzy might be feeling right now. While expressing your feelings for him hadn’t been part of the plan, you no longer regretted being honest. You were tired of concealing your emotions, but even still, you didn't anticipate a significant change in your dynamic with Izzy. It hadn’t changed anything before.

Lost in your thoughts, you eventually sensed another presence. Turning around, you found Izzy standing there. Approaching you, Izzy gently lifted the wrist that Timothy had grabbed earlier, the same wrist Izzy had carefully wrapped after your injury many weeks ago. His fingers traced soothing circles, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken pain you endured. Before uttering a word, Izzy scanned your face, his eyes searching for signs of distress.

“His captain will handle him,” Izzy spoke sternly, “They’ve sailed away.”

You acknowledged his words with a nod, unsure how to respond, the weight of recent events still lingering in the air. Sensing your unease, Izzy cupped your face with his hands, a gesture that was becoming more familiar but no less comforting.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, his concern evident in the warmth of his eyes.

“I feel calm now,” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips. “I needed closure, so thank you for being there for me” Izzy’s eyes softened as he listened.

Izzy’s hands lingered on the sides of your face as his eyes darted back and forth, signaling that he was lost in contemplation. “What’s on your mind, Israel?” you asked, attempting to pull him out of his head.

“You told him it was me,” Izzy responded uncertainly, referencing your earlier confession of feelings.

“Yes,” you responded matter-of-factly, looking into his eyes curiously.

“Why?” Izzy replied. He seemed uncertain in this moment, a stark contrast to the commanding presence he normally displayed on the deck.

“Because it is you, Izzy,” you replied sweetly, gazing at him with adoration. “It has been for a long time. Long before we ended up on this ship, with this crew.” In that moment, a shift appeared in Izzy’s expression, a trace of longing. It mirrored the same look you had witnessed on the first night you spent time together on the bow of the ship. His eyes lingered on your lips.

“Israel Hands,” you cooed, the soft utterance of his name drawing his gaze to meet yours once again. With a playful smirk, you continued, “If there’s even a small part of you that wants to kiss me right now, I’m begging you to do it.”

That was all Izzy needed to hear. His lips eagerly found yours in a passionate collision. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most important thing he had ever held. As the kiss deepened, his strong hands traveled down to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Simultaneously, your hands found their way around his neck, fingers entwining in the tousled strands of his hair. The world around you seemed to fade as the intensity of the moment heightened, the connection between you and Izzy growing stronger with each passing second. Izzy’s lips departed from yours and embarked on a journey down your neck, prompting a gasp to escape your lips. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of his lips caressing your skin. Each tender kiss sent shivers down your spine.

The resonance of Stede’s voice reverberated across the deck, jolting you both back to the awareness of your surroundings. As you exchanged glances, a giggle escaped your lips.

Izzy’s smile persisted as he spoke with authority, “My cabin. Five minutes.” He punctuated his words with another lingering kiss on your lips.

Breathless, you responded, “Yes, sir.” With a steadying moment on the bow, you collected yourself before making your way to the first mate’s cabin, anticipation building for what awaited in the privacy of Izzy’s quarters.

Fortunately for you both, the crew seemed absorbed in their own activities, paying little attention to your discreet entrance into Izzy’s cabin. The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the atmosphere shifted. You stared silently at each other until Izzy pulled you into another passionate kiss.

The unspoken understanding between you and Izzy lingered in the air as you undressed each other, the layers of clothing falling away like a barrier that had kept your desires at bay. Standing there, exposed and vulnerable, a silent acknowledgement passed between you, the world outside the cabin fading into insignificance. Your fingers traced the contours of Izzy’s chest, your gaze meeting his in a moment of shared vulnerability.

His hands found their way to your bare arms, a gentle squeeze conveying a question that echoed in his words. “I want this,” he murmured, his touch conveying reassurance. “Is this what you want?”

In response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer, and his fingers traced down the length of your back. “Yes,” you whispered, the word carrying a weight of longing. “More than anything.”

{Next Chapter}

Taglist: @5tud10-54r4h @locamoka-blog @promptly-mercy @this--is--music @raviolical @lxsm2 @emilynissangtr

#izzy hands x reader #ofmd #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd x reader #ofmd fanfic #too soft to be a pirate

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 1 month

Text

<<Previous Chapter<<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

==================================

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Some bad habits are hard to break, and despite his best attempts to be kind, Izzy still manages to mess things up between you.

A/N: And we are back with the second chapter! Thank you for giving this fanfiction a chance. Every like and reblog means the world to me.

Content Warning: Self-depricating inner monologues, reference to the Kraken's torment and torture in Season 2, mutual pining and Izzy being a dick. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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It had to be noted that, the First Mate of the Revenge was indeed, a man of few words. And the few words that left his lips, were usually either a command or a curse. Though that was not quite strictly true when it came to addressing someone such as yourself. It had not gone unnoticed by the crew that, there was a certain softening of Izzy's tone, whenever he addressed you directly. His curses were said more in jest, than in true anger and there was something akin to fondness in his gaze, as he stared at you for longer than what was considered appropriate from a friend.

While some called Buttons a Sea Witch, perhaps it was you, who was the true magic wielder. Had you not ensnared the First Mate with your powers of compassion and competency? Though you sang no siren song like Swede, you had managed to captivate the mind and heart of the most austere person on the Revenge. If that were not the work of sorcery, then what else coukd it be?

Even now, as Izzy patrolled the deck, barking his usual commands and vulgar threats, there was no denying he kept glancing at the entrance to the hull, where you would be found within the ship's kitchen, helping Roach plan ahead for the upcoming storm.

"I mean look at him, the man's like a lovesick puppy." Lucius scoffed, as he watched the silver-haired pirate like a hawk, scrutinising over every movement and twitch with a level of surveillance that would put even the keenest-eyed night watcher to shame.

Cringing at the verbal observation, Oluwande dared to look in the general direction of the First Mate, whom had thankfully, not seemed to have paid attention to the scribe's declaration. "Sssh, Lucius. He'll hear you."

"Yeah, babe. I love you but you gotta keep your voice down." Pete agreed, taking the rope from his betrothed and making quick work of the shirked task, seeming happy enough to complete the work for them both.

Smirking at the horrified reactions, Lucius looked like a cat who had gotten the cream. Since his lover had taken charge of securing some nearby barrels, he took the opportunity to light himself a cigarette. "Good. I want him too because then, maybe if he does, he'll grow a pair of balls and actually do something about the situation."

"Have they seriously not confessed anything to each other yet?" Archie questioned, genuinely surprised that it had taken you both so long to finally couple up. In the same amount of time, she herself had managed to acquire two partners. Your dire situation did cause the pirate to question whetger or not you were absolutely useless when it came to the matter of love.

"Not according to (y/n), no."

"I wish they'd hurry up. I've got good money riding on them getting together before the next full moon." Wee John grumbled, as he carried a barrel passed the gossiping group. He had invested several coins into the outcome of your poorly-timed love life and by he'll or by high water, he was going to get a good return on his investment- even if it meant locking you and Izzy in the store cupboard himself. Hell, he'd shove you both into a burlap sack, if he thought it would boost his chances on winning the bet.

"You and me both." Archie scoffed.

He could hear them. Not clearly enough to make out what they were saying but enough to hear the sound of constant nattering. It was incessant, irritating. Like having tge constant buzz of a pesky wasp in you vicinity. Izzy longed for his days on the Queen Anne, where tge crew we focused on work, not idle chatter. Judging by the way that Lucius fellow kept glaring at him, the First Mate surmised that he was the topic of conversation. "Oi! You lot," he yelled, having finally reached the end of his patience. "I told you to prep the ship, not stand around gossiping like washer women!" leaning heavily against the railing, Izzy let out a string of curse words. Whilst not a religious man, he did ask whatever deity was listening, to give him strength and the will power to not throw someone overboard. "Fucking useless."

"Hey, Izzy."

He tensed at that familiar sound, that voice that never failed to stir something dark and wonderful within his soul. It brought to life a part of him he thought permanently dead. Turns out, it was just in a state of dormancy, waiting to be awakened at the right time. Or, at least of Izzy, the right person. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Roach lock down the pantry?" to an untrained ear, his lack of greeting might have sounded barbed and unwelcoming but you knew him better than that. The silver-haired pirate might have even gone so far as to say, you were the only one who knew him as well as himself.

The average person started a conversation with 'hello' but your dear Israel Hands was less conventional in his approach. "Yeah, we just finished. Oh, I brought you some tea. Thought you might appreciate it." you offered him one of the steaming cups of tea in yiur grasp. With a word of thanks, you both took a moment to savour the first sip, letting the warmth run through your veins and stave of tge slight chill in the air. "How's it going up here?"

"We'll be dead in the water come daybreak, if this lot don't do their fucking job right!" he all but screamed the final part of the sentence, easily earning himself a chorus of 'fuck off, Iggy' and 'we're doing our best here, dude!'

Your cheshire cat grin only grew, as you relished in the harmless feud between the crew and the First Mate. "Wow, that good, huh?" you teased, nudging Izzy with your elbow.

"Can you go down there and help 'em when you're finished with your tea? I need someone with half a braincell to check the sails are secured properly." he implored, pinching the bridge of his nose, as a migraine already started to form. Already feeling overwhelmed, the last thing Izzy needed was to add 'check the twats had correctly prepped the rigging' to his never-ending list of chores.

Sensing his palpable stress, you were quick to place a gentle hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Though public displays of affection were not common between you both, you speculated that since the pirate had not flinched but in fact, leaned into your touch, that he was comfortable with the gesture. "No problem, boss." his returned smile did not quite meet his eyes but a win was a win. You had at least eased Izzy of one burden. "How bad is the storm looking?"

When your hand eventually dropped from his arm, it took everything in Izzy's power to keep his voice steady, as he gave an answer to your question. Oh, how he longed to take your hand in his and place it back in his arm, so that he may feel your gentle warmth through the material of his shirt once more. "If Ed's calculations are correct, which they usually are, then...bad."

"Sounds like it'll be fun." you sighed, your attention now on the looming, dark grey clouds the besmirched the periwinkle skies with the promise of rain and turmoil.

While you were distracted by the landscape, Izzy was preoccupied by you. That was it, just you. There were not a multitude of opportunities in the day, where the First Mate had the chance to be this close to you. Where he could drink in your appearance, under the guise of merely being invested in your conversation. It felt wrong to him to be so infatuated with someone, who quite frankly, would never return his feelings but he was a starved man. Taking in every moment, every snippet of closeness he could get, until one day, your heart belonged to another.

Sometimes, he liked to delude himself and believe- just for a moment- that your kindness, your patience towards him, were all a hint towards you sharing his adoring sentiments. That perhaps, you could indeed fall for someone so wretched and broken as him.

The illusion never lasted long. Such fairytales of beauties falling so hopelessly in love with a beast were nothing but children's stories. The very same fairytales found in Stede's library, no doubt. And Izzy, well, Izzy was nothing if not a realist. He knew that you only tolerated him because you felt forever in his debt for saving your life. The silver-haired pirate had told you time and time again that you did not owe him anything but being as stubborn as you are, he doubted that you had paid him any mind. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asked, tone softer than he would have liked. Keeping up appearances around you was nearly impossible.

"I'm gonna bunk up with Oluwande, Jim, and Archie. They've got space on the floor of their cabin."

It was a relief, he mused, that at least you would be sleeping somewhere safe tonight, rather than in the communal space with the others. Still, Izzy could not help but wonder what it would be like, to offer you his own cabin to stay in. He would sleep on the floor, of course, he was a gentleman after all- well, that was debatable but he did possess some morals and understanding of social etiquette- and the last thing the pirate would want to do, was force you into an uncomfortable situation but no. Instead, he kept his yearnings to himself and responded in his usually curt manner. "That's good."

"What about you?" you asked, wondering if Izzy had plans on how he was going to ride out the storm. You assumed alone. Although, you felt a pang of jealously towards the non-existent crewmate, who may one day occupy the same living quarters as the man you were hopelessly besotted with. It was silly really, to feel resentment for someone who had not yet joined the team of misfit pirates and yet, it was inevitable that they would soon in the near future, waltz into Izzy's life and give him the love he most deserved. And as much as it pained you to accept your fate, you knew that could never be you.

"What about me?" he shrugged, unaware of your inner turmoil.

Correct, it could never be you who had the privilege to wake up beside him everyday or have the chsnce to call him yours. He would never see you as anything but some wounded creature he had saved from the brink of death. Certainly not worthy of courting the infamous Israel Hands. "Well-"

But before you could answer, Izzy caught sight of something. No, someone watching you both talk. Lucius. Fuck, he loathed that young man. He could not quite fathom what it was about the scribe that made his blood boil but just seeing him standing there, occasionally whispering something to Pete and smirking, as he cast a glance in your general direction, made Izzy see red.

Then it clicked. The oncoming storm. Of course. Those bastards. They knew of his past, thanks to Fang. No doubt they had told you the story too about how as a young sailor, he had not been able to keep down the contents of his stomach during a storm. Fuck, that nicknane too. You must have been revolted by him. Thought him completely and utterly pathetic. "-Look, whatever those twats have been saying, it's not true. I threw up one time-" Izzy began to defend himself, hoping it was not too late to salvage his reputation.

"-Oh, shit. No, I'm not referring to that. Fuck." you were quick to interrupt his rambling explanation. Sure, yeah, you knew the origin of his nickname, Izzy the Spewer but the story had not altered your opinion of the pirate. So, he threw up! Big deal. So had you during your first storm, and no one had bothered to call you, (y/n) the vomiter. "I just know that, storms bring up a lot of memories for some of the crew." you further explained, hoping he woukd catch the underlying meaning behind your words. "If you catch my drift?"

It took a moment but then a flicker of understanding sparked within Izzy's eyes, as he fully understand your insinuation. "Ah."

"Yeah." you smiled meekly, hoping not to trigger any unwanted memories for the pirate. All you wanted was to assure him that, if he needed comfort, you would be more than willing to provide him with comfort and company until the rain ceased and the skies became agate blue once more. "Will...will you be okay? Tonight, that is."

He knew, somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down, that your asking after his wellbeing was not an attack on his character, that you did not view him as weak for what had happened those many moon cycles ago, when the Kraken had stole him of his leg. This was your way of saying, "Hey, I'm here for you. If you need me", right?

Wrong. The poisonous voice of reasoning whispered in his ear, reminding him not to bet soft and be so sentimental. Of course you pitied him. How coukd you not? He was a disgrace. A washed up has been of a legend, who could no longer ride the coat tails of Blackbeard anymore. You were not offering him anything in the way of kindness, you were just reminding him of yet another mistake in his checkered past.

Before he could stop himself, the words left his lips and it was too late to take them back. "I'm not a fucking child, (y/n)." Izzy almost winced at how hurt you looked, as you flinched at his sudden outburst. Each time- and unfortunately, there had been more than one occasion- your pained expression left a lasting scar upon his heart. A fresh wound of regret that bled out over and over again. He did not mean to be this way with you. It was a defence mechanism, not that was much of an excuse really. Izzy should have- no, he did know- better. His sharp tongue was going to drive you away one day and he would only have hinsekf to blame. What's done was done.

There was nothing he could do, except keep up the charade and retire quickly from sight. He did not have to glance in the direction of the crew to know that they had all played witness to the entire exchange. No doubt he would have to sleep with one eye open tonight or maybe Roach would just spit in his food like last time. "Finish your tea and go fucking check the rigging. That's an order."

"Yes, boss." only minutes earlier, that nickname had been fondly used, now it just felt bitter to the taste.

Without another word, the First Mate abandoned your side and disappeared below deck.

Under the guise of work, your friends had been watching the entire exchange through side eye glances or in Lucius's case, just straight up staring.

Though idle hands appeared busy, Pete had in fact, tied the same knot several times. It was important to get everything secured ahead of the storm but in that moment, his mind was distracted. Casting a glance at the love of his life, his suspicions were confirmed, Lucius felt the same way as him- completely and utterly livid on your behalf. "Yeah, you ain't winning that money back, mate." he muttered to a frozen in rage Wee John, who merely stood holding another barrel, looking like he was contemplating throwing it at Izzy.

"Fucks sake, what a dickhead." he hissed, seemingly deciding against the idea, as he placed it with a resounding thud upon the deck.

Lucius could not stand to see you looking so hurt, as you stared longingly after the bastard who had dared upset you. The scribe knew he always teased you about your intense crush on the First Mate but it was during moments like these, where he really had to question what it was that made you so smitten with Izzy the Spewer. The man was volatile and about as pleasant as a cup of cold sick. Worst of all, this was not the first time he had stormed off after saying something cruel, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your hurt emotions. "I'm gonna go and see if they're okay."

"Maybe give it a moment, babe. Look." Pete urged his partner to take pause and watch you down your drink.

Despite wanting to abandon his post and assume the role of comforting friend, Lucius instead watched as you fought back tears and climbed the rigging, towards the crow's nest, no doubt seeking some privacy away from the watchful eyes of your friends.

"He really is the fucking worst. I genuinely do not get why (y/n) likes him so much." Archie mused, as she wondered if it was possible to find a snake at sea and put it in the bastard's bed?

With all the mysticism of a Sea Witch, the conversation was quickly intercepted by Buttons, whom decided to impart a great wisdom upon those in his vicinity. "'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. Therefore, is winged cupid painted blind?'"

There was a pause, as the gathered crew ruminated on his words. Well, partially ruminated. Most just sat there, looking confused or proverbially scratching their heads, unsure what to make of his revelation. Not one to admit his lack of knowledge, Lucius made a conscientious effort to nod his head and pretend he had understood the poet musings of the fellow pirate. "Right, yeah. What he said. Makes total sense."

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A/N: Thank you for reading up until the end of the chapter! I look forward to updating you all with a new instalment soon. Before I go, can anyone guess where Buttons's quote comes from?

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