#israel hands x reader

[bowieandqueen11]

Love For You / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: I just found your ao3 account a few days ago and your writing style is excellent! Legitimately some of the most visual and evocative writing I've seen on that website, and I've been devouring your izzy hands fics since I caught up on season two! Can I request another izzy x reader post-amputation and just the reader caring for him while he's pining hard? Maybe the reader has some medical experience so they've been able to help him a little better than the rest of the crew, making sure he's taking time to heal in a difficult moment (physically as well as emotionally, god knows he needs that.) Letting him know he's loved and him realizing he hasn't...heard someone say that to him or treat him this gently in a long time

Thank you so much that's so kind of you to say, it's so lovely people finding me from AO3!! Honestly one of the best feelings, and goodness knows Izzy needs this :)

Okay so I haven't been able to watch the new season so all my knowledge is coming from Tumblr gifs and posts, so I really hope this isn't too ooc my lovely!! Anyway let's get this man some comfort!

I spent all day writing this, so all comments are much appreciated! Thank you! :)

Warning: mentions of blood/injury, mentions of physical abuse, mention of smoking, kissing and some strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Something monstrous seemed to be creeping up the shuddering walls.

No, it wasn't the stifling silence that had seemed to envelop those of Blackbeard's crew still left, hiding their heads between their legs and closing their eyes as they felt the quicksand drain out through the fingers. Nor was it the creaking organ snore of Wee John thrumming up the timber; the rest of your usually upbeat crew grew despondent as they wracked their brains together and came up with a way to save you all from imminent demise, having flopped onto their sides and fallen into fitful sleeps just before sunset. Sadly it wasn't even the feel of Lucius' finger stroking yours through the cold grates of your jail, his smile lost and forlorn as he thumped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as well, feeling even more entrapped in himself than you did.

It was, in fact, the hard glare Izzy Hands was shooting into the side of your face. He hadn't spoken a word since Stede had left, choosing instead to let out the odd sniffle from his corner bucket and busy himself by watching you like a man possessed: like something wild, something smothering itself in the shadows to stop its howling heart from devouring the light around itself. From tearing his dagger out of his scabbard and devouring his heart himself with clawed hooks. He looked ghastly, and he looked gargantuan as the life seemed to convulse within him, leeching out and darting its tongue around the creaking wood until it filled up the room and began to fill your heart up with a hope you thought had been lost weeks ago.

He looked beautiful and proud and defeated and assured in spite of it all, and you were finally beginning to understand why Zheng Yi Sao had locked him away in this cage.

And in a way, it terrified you that this cataclysmic, lucent shadow was creeping its merry way straight for you.

The tenebrosity was quickly broken by Izzy's shining eyes gliding across the bridge of your nose to land instead on your top lip. He wasn't entirely sure why exactly he was feeling so timid. It wasn't as if Frenchie was still awake, as he was too busy hugging his free arm around the remaining muscle of Izzy's thigh and burying his head into the muscle with a soft murmur of contentment. Yet the idea of being caught leering at you like a dopey boy was enough to make him judder with embarrassment, and enough to send Frenchie's head keeling sideways so his lips were rammed up against his trousers.

Thankfully, it was exactly Frenchie's floppy head that gave away the fact that he was fast asleep, and allowed you to steal Izzy away for yourself. With a gentle lift, you were quick to replace your friend's cheek with your own hand, giving the side of Izzy's thigh a reassuring squeeze.

'You look like you're bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders', you sighed as you took in Izzy's harrowing form. It wasn't his paleness that worried you, or the redness that cracked and splintered around his irises. It was the way he was watching you, eyes trained steadily on your face for the last hour and a half, as if he were doing his best to memorise everything he could before he ran out of time. As if he would never have the chance to look at you again.

The edges of his lips curled up, and he thumped his head back against the wall. 'Me? I'm feeling fucking fantastic. Never been better. Why do you ask?'

'Well', you began as softly as you could, straining to reach the vials in your hip knapsack to retrieve some salve for the scarring that had begun to pucker around his skin. 'We are about to be executed. I guess I just wanted you to know this is a safe space to let it all out before we are. A confessional of sorts, if a little makeshift.'

He wet his bottom lip as his eyes darted down to you, confused.

You pointedly looked him in the eyes, before unscrewing the vial and dipping your pointer finger in. Making sure he didn't seem too uncomfortable, you leant forwards as innocuously as you could, trying not to startle him anymore than he already had been. With a swipe, you began to rub the herb mixture around the sore looking welts left around his cut leg, making a point to run your fingertips soothingly over the goose-bumps that began to rise at the feel of you against him.

'I wanted you to know- to know that you're always safe around your crew.' You did your best not to let your voice tremble, no matter how much your throat tried to choke you. You turned your head back down to his leg, trying to hide the fact that your mouth was crumpling in on itself.

He winced as your hand brushed against a tender point, and you ran the back of your knuckles over his skin in apology. He felt like he was burning alive: a fire blazing so furiously in the pit of his stomach he was sure it was gushing out, swinging around the room and warning everyone of his impending falter as he fell upon the crags of your fingers below. He had no idea how, in all the seas, you couldn't possibly see how ecstatically devastated he was to be sitting here with you.

He didn't mind dying. He wasn't scared of it. As long as you were there to enhalo his misty light in the end. As long as you were there to love him until his last breath. As long as, no matter what form he took, you were still enclosed around his heart.

'Who says I have anything to confess?', he glanced at you with heavy eyelashes, eyes bleary but sharp as he started straight into your soul. I don't have to confess it, he thought, it's so fucking painfully obvious.

How could he confess something so inexplicable? Something that wrapped around all of his bones, that wormed its way into parts of himself he thought long numb: long lost. How could someone ever articulate the feeling of life itself? It was insurmountable, far too transcendent, too impetuous for mortals to to unsnarl into words.

'Oh Izzy', you said, mouth falling into a frown at the way his hips reflexively bucked up at the feel of a new cream being slathered around his leg to try and numb the pain. He moaned, trying to mask the sound by clenching his fist into his mouth and biting desperately into his knuckles. One more touch, and he was about to fall apart. 'Your eyes are drowning in so many regrets I can barely see the stars in them anymore.'

He huffed out a laugh, looking at you with incredulous, wild eyes. He willed his hand to stop shaking as he let it rest, still clenched, by his quivering chin. 'Not in my eyes. You never could. That's not possible. Not me.'

'I could.' You were quick to reply. 'I always could. You're our guiding light, Israel Hands.'

Oh boy, if he wasn't devastated before he sure was now. His face fell immediately, and for a moment you felt your heart ache with a sore regret at the silvery tears that began to cloud in the crinkles of his eyes. But then he does something that surprised even you.

The way he opened his legs up was almost miniscule: too small for anyone who didn't know this man's quirks and intricacies and giveaways to notice, but a well aimed shot that sent a rush of heat prickling up your cheeks. Before he changed his mind and retreated into himself again, you were quick to scoot your backside over and come to rest far too intimately between the tightening leather of his inner thighs.

'You can't be surprised that we care about you', he started after a moment of comfortable silence, leaning the side of your head to rest gingerly on his intact leg. 'That the whole crew has always cared about you. Look, someone even got you a mop-', you gestured to his side, trying to make him laugh before the sun rises, and thankfully you succeeded.

He shook his head out as if trying to refocus himself as his chuckle died out in his chest. He didn't want to laugh right now. He wanted to focus on the weight on his leg: on the feel of your nose brushing on the length of seam running up to his groin. He blinked back heavy tears that spread along his lashes, sniffling coarsely. He probably should laugh, he thought. He should be fucking howling, spitting, going rabid at the irony that the one thing he had been yearning his whole life was lying right there on his lap, and he only had a few hours left in his pathetic life to savour it.

'How are you doing, by the way? Seriously', you jolt your head up to watch him quizzically. He did his best not to meet your eye, choosing instead to stare at the black grains above Jim's slumped head. 'After, you know, everything that happened with Ed-'

'You don't need to worry about me', he sniffed, but his hand twitched as he lifted it up to rest on his thigh, just above the top of your head. 'It's my job to worry about all of you. Not the other way round.'

'When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we want to worry about you. This isn't some kind of weird mandate or self-preservation tactic on our part Izzy. You may be a fucking idiot, but you're our fucking idiot. Let us take care of you too, like you've been looking out for us.'

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head beginning to shake furiously enough to send his stray silver locks clambering over his eyes. He was glad for their cover, so he wouldn't have to see the way you had lurched forward: the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, as you rose onto your knees and pressed your hands firmly around his waist, just where the joint of his legs met the soft squish of his tummy.

'Don't you shake your head at me. We all know you've been trying to direct Blackbeard's anger your way. We do!' You cocked your head, trying to follow his face as he squirmed in your grasp. Losing your patience, you gripped his jaw with your thumb and pointer finger, directing Izzy's widening eyes back your way. 'We do, Izzy. We know what you've been doing for us. What you've been sacrificing. And I'm sorry - I'm sorry that none of this is fair. I'm sorry that any of this happened at all.'

One. Two. You tapped your finger a third time, your fingernail swirling over the fine nuances of the holster running over his sawed leg.

It had always been your little secret: a shared confidence, between you and Izzy. One tap. Two. Three on each other's arms after battles, three taps there on your shoulder before you went down to your bunk, three fleeting touches burning at the back of his spine to let him know that you were alright: to let him know that he was alright.

You only stopped when you heard a brisk inhale: a sharp whistle that broke through your indulgent repose and made Roach roll over. Thankfully, a moment later, the cook's arm was splayed out across the floor again, and his leg kicked out backwards with a swift jolt up poor Button's behind. Izzy, though. Izzy, despite the surprising tenderness of the moment, was almost smouldering. The muscle by the side of his femur began to writhe underneath just the point of your fingertip, the feeling of just your warmth making him feel too feeble. Too needy to even control the rest of his body; he desperately tried to reach out a hand to shove your shoulder back and push you away, but his mind was too busy swimming with the concentration of trying to remember how to inhale.

The sharp breaths he dragged in painfully were starting to worry you, as were the wracks of his spine as he seemed to writhe backwards and forwards, back arching off the wall before collapsing back down on itself painfully again.

He felt your hand clench around his back, guiding him to sit still again. You were close, far too close - your noses almost touching, as you took a risk and used your free hand to slowly.... god, so fucking slowly he felt like he was going to split in half. He looked like a wounded animal: something terrified of being hurt as his eyes stayed trained on your approaching fingers, face wary until your fingertips touched his hair and tucked it behind his ear.

And then he felt that warmth. That warmth against the shell of his ear. He bit down hard enough on his lip to draw blood, and for once, he was glad for the taste. It was comforting. Familiar. Deserved. He wasn't one for the fucking heartache of tenderness. And god, how his heart ached.

'Come on,' you nestled yourself between his legs again and perched your elbow up on his left leg. 'People must have cared about you before. Might as well get it all out in the open. Be honest with each other now.'

He paused, before the stubbornness wormed its way in again. 'No, they haven't-'

'Well, what about your parents? Your parents must have been kind. Besides, the crew obviously cares about you. I obviously care about you. Stop being so pig-headed.''

He startled you with a laugh: he seemed to choke on it, his teeth baring as he barked it out, yet he still couldn't seem to look at you quite yet. That's alright. You had an eternity left in these few hours.

Kindness?

He couldn't remember a time before joining Stede's crew that he had ever felt such a thing, let alone let it fester in the crevices of his ribcage until he felt the dreaded thing was going to claw its way out. Perhaps, if he let himself fester in the silence for a moment, an image of his mother would squirm its way out of his long repressed memories. Clawing and scratching and digging her pointed nails to dig her way out. No, his mother had never offered him a jot of comfort. She could stay buried in that coffin he had stuffed her down into, instead of rotting inside of him. He had enough barnacles to scrape off his body as it was.

It wasn't as if he had any surprisingly sweet memories of his life before. His mother had never been one for grace: her words always bit at his brain like a frenzied tempest, his actions never good enough. Once, when he was six years old, he had tottered up before the sun rose and followed his older brother down to the docks, trying to please his mother. Even so young, he had spent most of his years yearning to be seen as anything but the 'nuisance' or 'pest' his mother used to spit at his feet, and yearned to return with a line full of fish to please her. To help her with the chores that she always yammered his father had left her to rot with. Had left him. That he rotted away her youth. When he came slinking into the doorway, a nervous smile twitching at his ruddy cheeks, his mother had taken one look at the muddy, damp fringes of his trousers and had slapped him clean across the face for his troubles.

Another part of him remembered her warmth. The same that radiated off your palm as you spread your fingers across his knee; the way she would sometimes scutter into his bed at night, and he could smell the harsh sting of alcohol on her breath as she curled up and hugged him close against her chest. Of the way she would sometimes let him sit on her knee once the three of them had returned home after service, and she would brush back his growing hair and he would curl himself up to chase the stray ray of sunlight that glowed against her neck.

It had left him a Gordian mess of a man. Simultaneously spending his life seeking any kind of validation, any kind of affection, while his stubborn self-preservation did its best to push everyone away.And yet here you came, watching him with those sweet, sad eyes. Swinging the sword to undo him.

'I don't remember much about them', he replied curtly, but not unkindly. 'My father left us when I was young. I was... mainly left to my own devices.'

You nod slowly, letting his words thinking in. Letting the misery drenching every seething heave of his tongue wash over your head. 'Well', you began to rub your thumb in circles against his trousers, 'at least you have us here now. One good thing to add to the pile.'

There we go. The knot's slowly being undone.

You tried to smile, but the intensity of his gaze falling on you again unsettled you.

'You're right.' His voice was far too earnest for his own good. 'I have had one good thing in my life. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

You nearly jolted when you felt his hand smack down on top of yours. He had closed his eyes to try and hide himself from his discomfort, but his gloved fingers still slid between yours and squeezed despite himself. Once he was assured they were firmly intertwined: his own grasping tight enough to bust the leather at the stitching, he dared himself to finish his train of thought before he lost his nerve.

'I do... I do care about the crew. None of this was their fault, and they shouldn't have been fucking blamed for it. But I- I, I care about someone else far more than all of this twatty lot put together.'

It's a whisper into the darkness. A despairing yell of defiance against the solitude. A smothered light, long lingering and far longer forgotten. A spark of hope against the threat of ruination. It was a silver tear, glinting like starlight against his iris and falling with a content plop onto the back of your hand.

'I-I-', he stuttered out, clenching his teeth as he wills himself not to cry. 'I-'

The words refused to unlatch from his throat. Luckily, you were adept enough to notice the longing that drew a sad ache across his face.

'Izzy, I-'

'Let me finish', he stumbled out, his whole face now contorting as he struggled with the weight of it all. His bottom lip began to wobble against his will, face falling in on itself.

'I have-I have... love. For you. 'What I'm trying to say is'-, he shakes his head, chiding himself.

'Izzy, I know, it's alright. I know. I understand.' You grabbed tighter onto the back of your hand, enveloping it with your free one until his stopped shaking, begging him to realise you could see him.

'No-. No. If I don't say it now, I'm worried I never will.'

'Take your time, take your time. We have all the time in the world'. A sob finally gasped out from Izzy, chest heaving as he felt you draw his hands up towards your mouth. Still safe. Still warm. Still firmly cupped between your own, but the feel of your lips brushing against his knuckles was enough to send him reeling. The gentle peck that followed, though, was enough to finally let him break free.

A tentative finger reached out, checking for any signs of repulsion before landing awkwardly to point into the blade of your shoulder. He seemed to freeze: immobile marble frozen in fear as he seemed unaware as to what to next. After a few wary blinks, he clumsily spent a few seconds trying to manoeuvre the rest of his arm to cross across your back, before tugging your torso to lean closer towards him.

For a moment, it finally seems as if the world has skittered upright on his axis again. It felt normal. It felt right, feeling him grow comfortable with affection again as he melted, for the second time that week, into your hug. For his sake, as he burrowed his head into the pulse point of your neck until his stubble began to tickle your collar bone, you pretended not to hear the maimed whimpers that struggled past his closed lips.

The only time he moved was to raise his head up towards your nose, bumping it playfully against the tip of your own. Then another graze. A rub, and then another one, his eyes the whole time languidly drawn down to stare at your cupid's bow, until he slowly brought himself down to breathe unsteadily against your mouth. After a final moment of contemplation, he blinked placidly before closing his eyes and tilting his head to close the miniscule distance between the two of you.

His jaw was tense as you ran your finger down it, so busy trying to commit to his memory the pressure of your lips against his bottom one that he was forgetting to breath. But he didn't pull away. In fact, his hand clamped around your neck, digging almost painfully into your back as he stumblingly latched onto you, forcing himself further against your opening mouth. His hand found solace by cupping the back of your skull, chest squeezed against your breasts as he opened his lips and almost devoured you whole.

A loud 'awww!' erupted from your side, making the two of you jolt apart. The only problem was, Izzy's bottom lip had been rather firmly attached to yours. This meant that as you drew back, Izzy, in his stubborn unwillingness to let you go, let his bottom lip drag down along your inner mouth until a line of saliva connected your bottom lips, which only made the person the other side of the brig giggle even louder.

'You guys are cute', Black Pete yawned with a wakening stretch.

'Yes!', Roach chimed in as he teddy bear rolled his lanky legs round in front of him. 'I swear!', he continues, ostentatiously wiping his finger underneath his eye, 'I must be crying! I'm two seconds away from going up there and commencing our escape myself.'

With a tilt of your head that hit Izzy's chin, you looked at the cook incredulously. Izzy only gazed down at you past the crook of his nose, wonderstruck as the he let the words wash over his head.

'You. You really think you can take on all those very competent pirates up there.'

'Of course!'

'You cried for twenty minutes earlier about soup!'

Roach waved his hand unconvincingly in front of his face. 'Broth, it was broth! But I'm great with knives, remember! I have one hidden in my underwear right now!'

'Why... why is it in your underwear?', Oluwande piped in as he rested his head on the side of a barrel.

'Yeah, you weren't captured', Archie added, shuffling her own head off Jim's shoulder to look out past the bars. 'Why isn't it, I don't know, in your pocket or something.'

Even though Roach has opened his mouth to answer, his train of thought is broken by the tired grumble of another one of your friends. 'I hate to admit it, but that was actually very sweet', Lucius chimed in, twisting his lips into a shit-eating grin as he eyed the both of you up, another cigarette now firmly tucked in and freshly lit between his fingers as he took a drag.

'Is everyone on this fucking boat awake?!', Izzy cried, wrapping a hand protectively around your shoulder joint.

You snorted, burying your head protectively against the soft skin of his bellybutton. The sound of the crew beginning to argue with an increasingly impatient Izzy was like music to your ears; the monster was beginning to retreat.

No longer did it hang and shake and pierce the walls with its talons until it bled umbras. It retreated: chased away by the comely love of your crew. Of your family. Of the man who held you protectively against him, blinding you with his tender love.

#ofmd #ofmd imagine #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands imagine #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands fluff #izzy hands angst #ofmd season 2 #con o'neill #Israel hands #israel hands imagine #Israel hands x reader #Lucius spriggs #edward teach #stede bonnet #black Pete #OFMD season 2 #oluwande #roach #jim jimenez #archie #buttons #wee John feeney

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Early Retirement

Summary: Izzy washes up on a beach after leaving the Revenge and rowing through a storm. Luckily for him, a kindhearted stranger took it upon themselves to take him in and nurse him back to health. Maybe even give him a new home.

Word Count: 6478

It’s cold. Too cold.

It seeped down into his bones and settled there until he couldn’t feel his limbs, he couldn’t feel anything other than that debilitating cold. He forced his eyes open but saw nothing but darkness, the salt stinging them. His lungs burnt in their attempt to suck in air but received nothing but water. 

Then everything just…disappeared.

The amount of time that passed was a mystery to Izzy but when he came back to consciousness, it was warm. It felt like his body had thawed out, limbs heavy but at least he could feel them now.

His heavy eyelids blinked open, the sunlight coming in through a window making him wince. Everything had a slight blur to it but he could make out that he was in a bedroom, one that he definitely didn’t recognise. He was tucked into a bed, pillows cradling his head and plush bedding cocooning his body, his injured foot elevated on a pile of cushions.

The last thing he could remember was…the sea. Fuck. He had left the Revenge after Stede’s return, at least being allowed the dignity to make that decision himself. A freak storm had rolled in when he was half way to reaching land in his rowboat. It ripped his little boat to shreds and the ocean had pulled him beneath the waves. 

He had barely even fought it when it happened. Izzy had always known this would be how he went, at the mercy of the sea, better than the end of a sword. Men like him didn’t get peaceful deaths, he accepted that a long time ago.

Yet, here he was and it was too warm and soft to be Hell.

As his senses returned to him he focused on a smell that wafted up from somewhere else in the house, it was something savoury, something warm and comforting.

He wasn’t alone then. It made sense, of course, but it still put him on edge.

Izzy tried to pull himself up from the bed but it felt like his body was weighed down and his foot throbbed when he tried to move it. With a grunt, he fell back down onto the bed. He could barely move, he’d need a proper plan before he flung himself out of bed.

Before he could try to move again, the door to the bedroom he was cooped up in opened. “You’re awake,” you smiled warmly, “how are you feeling?”

The pale, ragged, looking man in your guest bed was glaring at you. You were sure he would be threatening if he didn’t look like he just crawled out of an ocean grave.

“Where am I?” he questioned accusingly.

“Somewhere safe,” you assured him, ignoring his hostility as you crossed the room.

He hesitated, watching you cautiously. You supposed you couldn’t blame him, he was in a strange place and somewhat incapacitated.

“What happened?”

You sighed. “You washed up on the beach a few days ago. Saw you on a morning walk, thought you were dead by the look of you. Nearly scared the life out of me when you breathed,” you told him honestly.

“Days?” Perhaps his surprise would have been a little more audible if his voice wasn’t so scratchy. His wide eyes conveyed it enough though.

“Your foot is injured but it was wrapped so I assume you know that. You had an infection, have been in and out of consciousness with a fever for the last four days. I’m not surprised you don’t remember any of it,” you informed him.

“So you just happened upon me, dragged me back to your home, and nursed me back to health?” He was suspicious of you and he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“The doctor got some men to help haul you up from the beach and stopped you from dying on us, he left some medication, but then just left me to it.”

“Where are my things?” It was only then, as he shifted on the bed, that he realised he was only wearing his smalls under the blankets.

“For somebody who just avoided death, you are awfully quizzical,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “Everything that survived your little swim is safely stored in another room. I’m generous enough to try to help a stranger but not naive enough to let them have blades on them. I’ll bring you your clothes now that you’re awake and a pair of linen pants, they’ll be easier to get on and more comfortable than those leathers you washed up in.”

“So you know I could be dangerous?” Izzy squinted at you. You know he was dangerous but taking the chance anyway only made him more suspicious. People didn’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts, especially for people who they thought were dangerous.

“No offence but when a man washes up on the shore, armed to the teeth and clad in black leathers, I don’t assume they’re just a travelling merchant,” you rolled your eyes.

“This happen a lot?” he asked sarcastically. At least he was well enough to give you some snark.

“Nope, you’re my first,” you shrugged, smirking slightly. “So, what do I call you?” you asked.

“None of your business,” Izzy growled, though it came out weak and scratchy.

“Well, you’re in my home but okay,” you rolled your eyes at him, as if he wasn’t a threat. Then again, he supposed he wasn’t much of a threat right now.

Izzy frowned, but his glare remained hard on you. “Who are you?”

“You tell me and I’ll tell you, for now you can just call me…your guardian angel,” you offered, making him scowl. “Anyway, you’re looking a lot brighter than when you washed up. You should be able to keep solid foods down now, so I made some healing stew special for you. Oh, and the bread just came out the oven this morning.”

Before Izzy could question you further, you had waltzed out of the room.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to return though, this time entering the room with a tray balanced on your hip. You walked up to his bedside, placing the tray down on the table beside his bed. 

The tray held a bowl of stew, a couple slices of bread, a mug of herbal tea, and a glass of water. 

Izzy just glared at the tray as you took a step back.

“Look, I’m not holding you hostage. If you want to leave, you can, but have some common sense and stay put for a while. Your foot was inflamed when you showed up, the doctor had to shave down the bone and redo the stitches. You need to rest it if you want it to heal properly,” you chastised him.

The man frowned, looking down at his foot. You saw the pain in his eyes and it made your voice soften. “Doctor said you’ll be able to move around in a couple of days if you use a crutch, then you’ll just have to use a cane. Once it’s healed though, he said it probably won’t affect your movement or balance at all.”

“You sure?” he dared to be hopeful.

“The doctor seems pretty sure. But you have to follow orders if you want it to heal properly. So you can’t go hobbling around looking for your ship just yet.”

He squinted at you, suspicions returning at full force. “What do you know about my ship?”

“Relax. I don’t know anything. I’m just not stupid, I figured you’re a pirate,” you shrugged.

Apparently, that only made him more suspicious of you. “And you still risked taking me in?” You had to have ulterior motives, it’s the only thing that made sense.

“You gonna kill me?”

“No. Not if you don’t give me a reason too.”

“Rob me.”

“No, unless I kill you.”

“...take me hostage and sell me?”

“No…”

Izzy sighed. You were right, he wasn’t a threat right now and even if he was, he had no intentions on hurting you unless you gave him a reason too.

“Then it looks like we’re safe,” you smiled, like you had just sorted some problem out. “Eat, I’ll be back soon to collect your dishes and change your bandages,” you ordered lightly before leaving the room again.

The next time you returned it was to take away his dirty dishes. He had emptied the bowl, having not realised how hungry he had been until he took that first bite. He would probably be able to eat more but knew better than to risk it, too much too soon could have him bringing it all back up.

You had brought some supplies with you to change the bandages on his foot. He had glared at you the whole time, as if expecting you to do something to purposely hurt him. You didn’t though. Instead, you handled his foot and ankle delicately, cleaned the wound as carefully as you could and rebandaged it. Working diligently, only speaking when you were apologising for something you couldn’t help or asking him if the bandages were too tight.

The rest of the day went much like that. He didn’t speak whenever you came into the room to bring him food or take away empty plates, and you didn’t try to engage him in conversation, just polite small talk before leaving again.

-

The next morning, Izzy woke up to you bringing him another tray of food. “Morning,” you greeted him, placing the tray down beside him. “Made you some breakfast, have to keep your strength up.”

Izzy tried to sit up, making himself wince. You moved quickly, helping him shift into a comfortable sitting position. His whole body still ached but the comfortable bed was helping, he couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if he had been recovering on his little cot back on the Revenge.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, sounding like you genuinely wanted to know, weren’t just being polite.

“Like my boat wrecked,” Izzy mumbled, letting you settle the tray over his lap.

“Well, that’s to be expected. You look better than you did yesterday already, that’s a good sign,” you encouraged. “I’ll be around, have some things to tend to, but just shout if you need something.” Izzy only nodded before you were out the door again.

-

The next few days went very much the same but with each passing day, Izzy could feel his strength coming back. He could sit up perfectly fine on his own, had even stood once, only to fall back down when his injured foot touched the floor. He could feel himself recovering, the room was comfortable and the food was good. He supposed he shouldn’t complain but…he was feeling cooped up, trapped, useless.

Izzy lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when he heard movement outside his window. It was probably nothing of interest but even that was appealing to him right now.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bracing his weight against the bedside table as he stood on his uninjured foot. He kept the wounded foot from touching the floor as he hobbled towards the window.

It was morning, you had just taken his breakfast dishes from his room, and the weather outside was bright. He looked out over the garden.

From what he could make out, he was on the second floor of a cottage, no other residences in sight.

From his window, he could see your garden where you were tending to your chickens. Tossing feed out for them. He lent against the window frame to support his weight and just watched.

You wiped your hands on your apron once you were finished tending to your chickens, looking up to see your guest in the window of the guest bedroom.

Izzy felt his face heating up, a shame building in his chest as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. But you just smiled brightly and waved at him, silently noting to yourself to chastise him for moving around without support.

-

Izzy scowled at you from his position, perched on the edge of his bed.

“Here you go,” you presented him with the wooden crutch the doctor had given you for him. “Think you can manage?” you kept your hands out, as if ready to catch him if he fell, as he pulled himself to his feet, letting the crutch take the weight off of his bad foot.

“I’ve used a crutch before,” he grumbled, determined to be able to be properly independent again.

“Just making sure,” you were still watching him closely, hands hovering around him as you moved out of his way.

Rolling his eyes at you, Izzy gave the crutch a test run, using it to walk across the room without grabbing at tables and walls. You just nodded to yourself, satisfied that he was adjusting well to it.

“Listen, now you move around more by yourself but don’t take the piss,” you scolded, surprising him a little. “You still need to rest, to stay off of your foot as much as possible. Okay?”

As much as he wanted to scoff and dismiss you, he could tell you were serious.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Seriously, just accept some help, alright?” you found yourself rolling your eyes at him again, you had lost count of how many times you had done so since this man could hold a conversation again. Still, you found you did it with a little fondness.

-

Now that Izzy had started using his crutch, he could move around your cottage, moving up and down the stairs with your help. He insisted that he didn’t need your help but you wouldn’t let him near the narrow staircase unless you were with him.

At least that meant he could come downstairs and sit in the living room or the kitchen instead of being locked away in his room all alone, he could even go and sit outside and get some fresh air. 

He was currently in the living room, you had left him in front of the fire with a selection of books to choose from, while you finished cleaning up in the kitchen. You had just put the last of the dishes away when you heard hissed cursing coming from the other room.

Tossing the rag down, you rushed into the living room to find Izzy standing, gripping the back of the couch with one hand and clutching his crutch with another. The pain was etched on his face.

“Alright, come on,” you spoke softly, with care, as you hurried to his side. 

You took hold of his arm, listening to him complain as you encouraged him to lean some weight against you. Still, he let you guide him back to the couch and sit him down.

Once he was sitting and you had placed the crutch to the side, you knelt down in front of him and pulled his wounded foot into your lap.

He had knocked it against something when he was walking around and when you unwrapped the bandages you saw that it was a little red but looked perfectly fine otherwise. He hadn’t broken any of the stitches, he wasn’t bleeding, it didn’t look too irritated. Thankfully, he was still on the mend.

“You have to take it easy, be careful and don’t over do it,” you sighed. Something about this man told you that he wasn’t used to sitting idle for long.

“I’m fine. Just knocked it,” he insisted petulantly.

“Yeah, well…just be careful. Once the bandages come off for good and you can put proper weight on your foot again, you’ll be able to get around with just a cane.”

“And then I’ll have outstayed my welcome,” Izzy nodded like he was agreeing with something.

“What? No!” you frowned, sitting back on your heels. “Of course not. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

Izzy blinked at you, face contorting in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I’m kind and you’ve been a decent guest so far,” you shrugged, like it was truly that simple and that true, standing and brushing off your knees. “Now, sit still for once and I’ll fetch you some tea,” you ordered and, well, Izzy could follow orders, couldn’t he.

You were just about to leave the room, just about to cross the threshold, when he spoke up.

“My name is Izzy.”

You paused in the doorway, taking a moment to make sure you had heard him correctly. You turned back to him with a smile, all soft and sweet in a way that warmed him from the inside out.

“Izzy,” you repeated, testing the word on your tongue. Izzy found that he liked the sound of it and you decided that you liked the feel of it. “I like it.”

Izzy only nodded when you gave him your own name, still smiling as you disappeared back into the kitchen to prepare that tea for the two of you.

That evening, the two of you enjoyed a soothing tea in front of the fire together.

-

“I think it makes you look distinguished,” you complimented as you monitored his movements, smiling at how far he had come since you found him half dead in the sand.

“That’s a generous way of saying old,” Izzy rolled his eyes, adjusting his hold on the handle of his new cane. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was simple and sleek, good enough for him in his opinion.

“Absolutely not,” you tutted. “Anyway, you wear the age well so it still wouldn’t be an insult,” you shrugged.

Izzy looked away from you meaningfully, hoping to play it off as casual. “If you say so.”

“You could get a real nice one with a silver handle or something. Oh! You can get one with a hidden knife in it!”

You could just picture holding a sleek but ornate cane, just simple enough to satisfy him. Looking all distinguished and formal until somebody says the wrong thing, looks at him the wrong away, and he unsheathes his hidden blade.

“Huh…that’s not a bad idea, actually,” Izzy hummed, looking at the cane more approvingly this time. Yeah, maybe he could make this work.

-

Evening tea had become a bit of a routine for the two of you now. Sitting in your cozy living room in front of the fire, blankets over your laps, a cup of tea in your hands, and maybe a book each depending on your mood. It was a pleasant, calming way to end the day.

Izzy kept glancing at you, watching as your eyes followed the lines in your book, lost in the fictional world. He wanted to speak, to get this off of his chest, to take the weight off of your shoulders but…but he found himself worried that saying what he needed to say would take all of this away from him. He liked this, even if it wasn’t a life made for him. He would miss it.

“I’m really able to leave now. I’d find a ship,” he finally managed to speak, to push the words out without faltering.

You paused, lowering your book to look at him. “And I’ve told you, you’re still welcome. I like living out of the way, like the quiet, y’know, but it’s been nice to have you here. You’re interesting and I enjoy your company. Izzy scoffed. “Really, I do,” you insisted.

“Well, you’re probably the only person who does,” he muttered, thumbing at the pages of the book he hadn’t been reading.

“That can’t be true.”

“Apparently, I’m difficult.”

“Okay…yeah, I can see that. But it’s kind of…endearing, you know?” you laughed a little.

Izzy pondered it for a moment, still not really believing it despite how sincere you sounded. “...if you say so.”

“I do,” you didn’t care how many times you needed to reassure him, he needed it and that was all you needed to know. “Anyway, don’t you go worrying about rushing out of here. You can stay as long as you need.”

“You wouldn’t want me here if you knew who I was,” Izzy insisted firmly.

“Well, tell me who you are, Izzy,” you placed your book down, completely forgotten about, so that he could see your full attention was on him. “Tell me, Izzy. It won’t change anything,” you promised.

Izzy sighed, placing his unopened book down as well, refusing to look at you as he spoke. “You can’t promise that.”

“You’ll never know unless you tell me,” you shrugged.

Izzy took a stabling breath but nodded, knowing you were right, that you would probably find out eventually anyway. It would be better if you heard it from him.

“My full name is Israel Hands and you were right about me being a pirate,” he started. For some, that would be enough information.

“...that name is familiar,” you hummed thoughtfully, trying to remember where you heard it. It didn’t sound like a common name and you were certain you didn’t know anyone with the name ‘Hands’, but you had definitely heard the name before somewhere.

“I’m the first mate of Blackbeard,” he added.

For a moment, you could only gape at him. It wasn’t everyday you found out you were housing one of the most infamous pirates of your time.

Izzy waited for the horror or disgust to set in. He knew the stories and tall tales people told, some true and others wildly fabricated. He knew that you had likely heard one or two stories yourself if you recognised his name.

You shook off the surprise but found yourself more confused about how he ended up here. “What is the first mate of Blackbeard doing washing up here with a missing toe?” you asked, not sounding disgusted or afraid of him.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, figuring you didn’t really want to hear it anyway.

“I have the time.”

Izzy was certain that you were just being polite, perhaps even afraid that if you weren’t he would hurt you in some way, but when he looked at you, you were nothing but genuine. Your eyes held the usual care and sincerity that they usually did when they gazed upon him. Your smile was still soft. Like nothing had changed, and maybe it hadn’t.

So, unable to find a reason not to, Izzy told you everything. You just made yourself so easy to talk to. He started from the very beginning because you wanted to know who he was, not just how he ended up here. 

He told you of a young boy at the docks sneaking onto a ship, of a cabin boy aboard Captain Hornigold’s ship, of a newly made captain and first mate that still had sparks in their eyes. He told you about the creation and rise of Blackbeard, of the fuckeries, the victories, and the losses. He told you about Queen Anne’s Revenge and of all the years they served her well. He told you of men growing bored and restless, of a ship christened The Revenge. Of the landed gentry come pirates. 

He told you a saga of hope and pain that ended in betrayal, desertion, mutilation, reunion, and finally in the enlightenment that had Izzy Hands climbing into a dinghy in the middle of the night. Only two days away from shore. Only one day before a storm that only his previous captain could have predicted.

Izzy told you everything in front of a crackling fire, the warm mug of tea growing cold in his hands. And you listened, like he was somebody worth listening to.

That night, you both fell asleep in the living room. The fire burning out but the blankets draped over you both keeping you warm. For the first time in a long time, neither of you fell asleep alone.

-

When you woke up the next morning to find the other side of the couch empty and the house silent, you worried. Your talk last night went very well, in your opinion. Izzy had opened up and you had listened, had reassured him when he was finished or doubted himself.

You threw off your blanket and jumped to your feet, heading out the front door. You walked around to the rocks that overlooked the beach, finding him sitting there, looking out at the sea.

You relaxed at the sight of him, reassured that he hadn't run away in the middle of the night. You joined him quietly, he didn’t look up but he seemed to welcome your company.

The two of you watched the sun rise over the horizon but you couldn’t help stealing looks at Izzy’s face, he looked so…content. There was a faint longing in his gaze, lost in his thoughts, but he looked happy, the early morning sun illuminating his face.

“Do you miss it?” you asked, staring out at the gentle water with him.

“Sometimes…” Izzy confessed on a soft exhale. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really. It’s strange being on land. The ground is always so still.”

“Yeah, it tends to be,” you joked a little, catching the way the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in the imitation of a smile.

A beat of silence passed. “I understand if you want me to leave now.” Unfortunately, he kept speaking before you could protest. “My foot is healed enough. The worst that can happen now is that I need the cane for the rest of my life, I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”

This again…you sighed.

“Izzy, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Even when you know who I am?”

“Even then,” you nodded, smiling fondly. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not some violent barbarian that people tell stories about. I’ve known you long enough to know you wouldn’t hurt me and that I’m rather fond of you. My home is open to you for as long as you want it to be,” you promised.

“Kindness gets people killed,” Izzy chastised quietly.

“Lucky thing I have the best swordsman in the Caribbean to protect me then, huh?” you teased, knocking your shoulder against his.

“Yeah…real lucky…” Izzy mumbled out at the ocean.

“So you’re staying?” you asked, not hiding the hope in your voice. Izzy just nodded. “Good, I’m glad,” your smile grew.

“At least for the time being,” he shrugged.

“I’ll just have to make the most of it then, won’t I?” You tried not to roll your eyes at his attempt to play coy. Izzy shook his head at you but found himself smiling despite himself.

“Now come inside and get something to eat,” you patted his shoulder.

Izzy let you help him to his feet and hand him his cane without complaint. He even let you take him by the arm and guide him back into the cottage, though he pretended that he didn’t find the whole thing comforting.

-

You walked into Izzy’s room, which you had started calling it instead of ‘the guest room’, and found him shaving in front of the mirror.

“Aw, I was likely the scruffy look,” you pouted playfully.

“It’s a fucking nightmate,” Izzy muttered as he shaved his cheeks clean. Now he could stop scratching at the stubble. You just chuckled fondly at him.

“Want me to trim your hair when you’re done?” you offered. His stubble had grown in almost enough to not be considered stubble anymore and his hair had grown as well, you figured he’d want that trimmed back down if he was so particular about his facial hair.

“I can do it myself.”

“I have no doubt. I usually do my own as well, but a little helping hand would do no harm.”

Moving on to neatening around his goatee, Izzy sighed. “Fine…just…”

“I’ll do it exactly the way you want, don’t worry,” you promised him.

“Fine.”

You sat on the bed while Izzy finished shaving and trimming his goatee until it was perfectly neat. Izzy’s stubble had grown in while he was bed bound, so this was your first time seeing him properly groomed the way he liked. Turns out, you liked it too.

He was huffy about it but allowed you to pick up the shears and comb through his hair. You worked slowly, making sure to speak to him and not take it too short. As you spoke and worked, Izzy seemed to relax, trusting you.

You cut his hair back down to the length he preferred but he still hadn’t slicked it back with pomade like he usually did, hadn’t done so since he woke up in this very bedroom. Instead, it hung loose and soft over his ears. It made him look soft, less intense. He supposed it was more suitable for his current living conditions so he tried not to dwell on it too much.

“There you go. You look lovely,” you complimented, running your fingers through his hair and letting it fall, smiling proudly at your handiwork. Izzy scoffed. “Oh just accept it,” you tutted, “you’re all neat and tidy again, all nice and handsome.”

“Christ,” Izzy complained, glaring at your reflection. “I will maim you.”

“Ah, so there is some pirate left in you. Very nice to see,” you teased. “I’ll leave you to keep grooming yourself.”

You could hear him muttering curses to himself as you left the room, giggling to yourself.

-

Izzy sat at the kitchen island, cane propped up beside him, peeling apples while you worked on making a pastry. “You really need to make a pie?” Izzy questioned, but didn’t slow his work.

“We need to use up the apples somehow or they’re just going to go bad and that would be a waste,” you reminded him. “Anyway, you’ll like it. I make a great apple pie.”

“...you’ll have a high standard to beat,” he warned.

“You’ve made me curious, Izzy,” you looked over at him but he didn’t look like he wanted to talk any further about it, so you didn’t push. “You can tell me another day.”

You continued to make the pie, the fluidity of your actions telling Izzy that you had indeed done this many times. You would give him a task here and there, and he would carry it out diligently. You could imagine him as a first mate, just as diligent on the deck as he was as your sous chef.

Izzy watched you plate up two slices of freshly baked pie. “Here, have a slice while it’s still warm,” you placed a plate in front of him. “Cream?”

“Sure,” Izzy nodded and poured some over his slice before joining him, sitting beside him. Izzy took a spoonful of pie and brought it up to his mouth before pausing and scowling at you. “Stop fucking watching me like that.”

“I want to know if you like it,” you whined.

“Then I’ll tell you,” he huffed.

“No you wouldn’t. You’d mumble ‘yeah, it’s fine’ even if it was the best thing you had ever eaten.”

Izzy fought back his smile, knowing you were right. “I promise to tell you just stop looking at me like that.”

“Fine,” you sighed heavily, dramatically. “If you insist.” No, you weren’t pouting.

But you also didn’t watch him eat, and that was enough to satisfy him. “Okay, yeah…” Izzy sighed after swallowing his second bite. “This is good,” he praised.

“Thank you,” you grinned, bright and proud, before digging into your own slice. 

Izzy just chuckled and shook his head at you, going back to enjoying his pie.

Izzy slows his chewing when a thought dawns on him. This was all so…domestic, the way you moved around each other, shared the space together. He didn’t think he’d ever be sitting in a kitchen of a cute cottage, eating a pie that was made for him by his…fuck, he needed to shake off that thought immediately. 

His what? His carer? The person who took him in when he was on death’s door, who took pity on him.

“We could go for a walk later, maybe even down to town if you feel up to it. Give that cane a proper test run,” you suggested between bites.

“Sure,” he agreed.

“But I swear, if I see a single flinch or hesitation in your steps, we are turning around and coming right back home.” You didn’t come off as a threatening person, you were rarely stern with him, but he knew you were being serious about this.

Maybe he was focusing on the wrong part of your warning but…

Home. 

You talked about it like it was both your home and his home, a home you shared. Like it could be his home. Could this be his home? Fuck.

“Sounds good,” Izzy nodded.

-

Izzy had allowed himself to grow too comfortable, he only realised that when the worries seeped back in. He had grown used to your home, your presence. He didn’t like change, never had, and a lot of things had changed lately but the two of you had developed a bit of a routine that helped calm his nerves. Now it felt like it was all changing again.

You had been acting strange, almost distant towards him. As much as you could do while sharing the same space. He would often catch you losing yourself in through but never voicing them, never letting him in on it when he asked. Something was wrong, he must have done something wrong, it was the only thing that made sense. Maybe you were building up the courage to kick him out and send him on his way, you had realised he was more trouble than he was worth.

“Izzy, can we talk about something?”

This was it, you were going to ask him to leave. He has outstayed his welcome, if he has ever truly been welcome in the first place.

“Sure.” His voice didn’t falter and he was proud of himself for that.

“You told me how you ended up here, about what happened and I was wondering…well, the crew, Blackbeard, aren’t expecting you to return, are they?”

That question threw him off. Oh, maybe you were worried about Blackbeard coming to your shores and causing trouble. “Probably not. They’re probably relieved about it as well,” Izzy answered, honest but a little bitter about it, even he could admit to that.

“And you aren’t going to try to go back?” you asked, though the question wasn’t judgmental in any way.

“Wouldn’t be welcome if I tried, I imagine. But I have contacts, I’d find another ship or something,” he didn’t want to lie to you but he also didn’t want you to keep allowing him to live in your home out of pity or guilt. He would manage, he would survive, he always did.

“…Blackbeard was talking about retiring, right?”

Izzy felt himself sigh before he heard it. “Sure. Guess he managed it too, in his own way I suppose. Didn’t think retirement was a fucking option. Still not sure it is,” he admitted.

You looked nervous again, aimlessly fixing a cushion on the couch you both sat on. “What if this could be your retirement?”

“What do you mean?” Izzy frowned.

You might have huffed and rolled your eyes at him for being dense but you could see his genuine confusion. “Somewhere peaceful and quiet for you to relax. Good weather. Somewhere comfortable by the sea. Sounds like a good retirement spot to me…”

“I…what are you saying?”

You had to fight the temptation to reach out for him. “I’m saying that maybe you deserve to have a retirement too. Some…some good days without constant worry and fear. Maybe you deserve it and have earnt it just as much as Blackbeard,” you gave into the need, reaching out and placing your hand over his, “and I’m asking if you could have that here, I’m asking if you would stay.”

“You want me to stay…for good?” His face was scrunched up like he was trying to figure out some complicated puzzle. Like he didn’t believe that you could just want him to stay here with you.

“I do,” you nodded like it was as simple as that, because it was. “I’ve lived out here for a long time. Never felt lonely despite the distance I am from town. I think I would be lonely if you left. Think I would miss you. No, I know I would.”

“I don’t need charity,” Izzy growled, pulling his hand away from yours.

It made you ache but you didn’t fight him, didn’t try to touch him again, giving him the space he needed. “I’m not doing you a favour. I just want you here, Izzy. If you want to go, I’ll support you and do whatever I can to help, of course, but I want you to stay.”

Izzy couldn’t argue with you, apparently. He didn’t snap or accuse you of lying, he paused and considered it. Why would you lie? What would you be getting out of this if you were lying?

“…why?”

There was so much you could say, so much you had yet to put into words. But one of the many things you had learnt about Izzy during your time together was that actions spoke louder than words, the care you had shown him had earnt his trust more than anything you had said.

You acted before you could talk yourself out of it.

You shifted closer to him on the couch, placing a hand against his shoulder when you lent in. The kiss you pressed to his lips was short and tender, just enough to express the way you felt.

When you pulled back, hand still on his shoulder, he was just looking at you. The lines on his face softened and lips slightly parted as he blinked at you.

“Will you stay with me, Izzy?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Izzy nodded, looking a little stunned but the answer felt right. “Yeah, yes, I will. I want to stay as well.”

You smiled adoringly, lifting your hand from his shoulder to stroke his cheek.

Izzy had woken up in your home thinking he had died out at sea but he knew there was no way that was the case because this couldn’t be his afterlife. He hadn’t done enough good to earn this, you were just giving him this out of the kindness of your heart.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve it, didn’t think he did deserve it, but he was here anyway. Maybe you were right, maybe this could be the next, maybe even the last, phase of his life. He would do whatever he could to earn it now, to earn you and this home.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #our flag means death izzy #ofmd x reader

[caitlinsnicket]

izzy hands sfw headcanons part 2

a/n: part 1 here. part 3 here HAHAHAHA im going lulu (also if you see any mistakes feel free to tell me so

after the loss of his leg, sometimes he might pretend to forget his cane just so he has to lean on you for support. truth is, he hid it under his bed so you would have a harder time finding it and he could spend more time with your arms around him

speaking of leaning, he leans a lot to get a look at you from a lower perspective (not that it's hard, he's not very tall), he leans on your body, on your arms and on your shoulders because he likes your warmth and loves to feel you near him

holds your hand to move around as well, displaying it proudly to the crew and puffing his chest out like a peacock so they know you're together

also tends to get very flushed if you lean on him and hold his hand, looking around expecting a joke, until you distract him with kisses on his cheek

lives for moments where you need comfort. it's not that he likes it when you're feeling bad, but he likes to feel needed for emotional suport, like he's good enough to make you feel better

he loves to feel useful when it comes to you, and so he learns to anticipate your needs and wants. he leaves something light for you to eat on a table on his cabin beside a cup of water, when on land always buys you new clothing pieces that he knows you might need, gets extra blankets in the middle of the night because he knows you might get cold, all that cheesy stuff

he's a romantic at heart

he is very particular about his hair, and has learned how to keep it tidy and practical for his day to day like. however, if you ever ask him to run your hands through it in the middle of the day or to style it in a different way, he'll move like lightning to sit on the ground, head at your hand's level so you can do as you please

his 'disheveled hair' look is probably his hottest too, strands framing his face beautifully, making him look disgruntled and mysterious at the same time. your fingers ache to touch it whenever he's like that

after a while he starts wearing his hair loose (without gel or pomade) more often while on the job, relaxing more and more with his own image

(he still loves his puffy fancy hair though

it's also the softest hair ever. you don't mention it when you notice the many hair care products hidden behind his bathtub, or the different things he uses to keep his hair in place, just as he won't mention it when he notices that you started using them too to smell like him

his favorite thing to do is having his hair taken care of by you. just mark him as yours in as many ways as you can

the curls on the nape of his neck are so endearing and charming it's hard for you to pay attention on anything he's saying. if he notices, he swears at you and walks off, fighting a goofy smile

one day, he decides he's gonna cut his hair short. you are supportive about it, obviously, even if a part of you is dying inside. so he goes out, cuts it and comes back with a glint on his eyes that is so obvious and endearing, as if he's begging you to praise him and call him pretty

and he just looks so nice and tidy and hot (so fucking hot) that you can't help but spend the next hour or so messing with his hair until his legs are wobbly and his mouth is hanging open

his hair ends up being spiked up very often, which makes him look younger and more relaxed. it brings warmth to your heart, and a shy smile to his lips

taking care of him is a tricky job, reserved to you (and fang) on the rare occasions he's too sick to fight back. still, he whines and struggles and cusses the both of you out until he gets too tired to complain anymore and just allows it to happen

feels extremely embarassed and self conscious whenever you feed him soup, but secretely he's vibrating with joy from your attention and care. he can't help but notice how much love is present from your touches and actions, and it makes him feel almost worthy of it

his favorite foods are the ones you cook for him when he's sick. you manage to put so much flavor and affection in it those that sometimes he yearns for a cold or a headache just so you'll cooks him something without him having to ask

he doesn't notice how much better you treat him in comparison to past lovers until jim or fang mention it to him, and he starts watching the things you do for him

it's the little things for him, like the way you neatly fold his clothes after he takes them off, the way there's always a cup of water on the side of his bed in the morning, or how sometimes you'll just remember things that he's mentioned in passing once and buy him a related trinket when you're both on land

he's over the moon and proud of having earned your affections, and will even grin in that manic way that sometimes gets to him

#imagine #headcanons #our flag means death #our flag means death fanfiction #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd x reader #our flag means death x reader #izzy hands #israel hands #izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #izzy hands imagine #israel hands imagine

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Hey babes!!! Love your work so much, keeping me going in this trying time (cancellation)

Ive had this silly little idea bouncing around for a while. I was thinking like Noble turned Pirate Reader x Izzy hands

maybe the reader is really good at sword-fighting and Izzy doesn't know how, with some angst but a happy ending? Im sure whatever you do will be amazing!!! Thank you so so much <3

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Masterlist

I hope this is what you were looking for <;3 @im-a-fungi1234

Swordplay and Secrets 

After years on the job, Izzy developed a keen instinct for sizing people up quickly, based on their skill with a sword and their interactions with fellow pirates. Despite his confidence in this ability, you remained a mystery to him. The moment Blackbeard ordered the crew of Queen Anne’s Revenge to aid Stede Fucking Bonnet during his capture by the Spanish, Izzy’s attention was drawn to you. He observed as you effortlessly cut down men with your sword, displaying a level of confidence and eloquence he rarely witnessed among other pirates. 

After a week aboard Bonnet’s ship, it became glaringly obvious to Izzy that you and Jim stood in stark contrast to the other fucking morons on this crew. Both of you possessed formidable combat skills, Jim in knife fighting and you with a sword. What set you apart even more was your reserved nature. Jim appeared guarded and often simmering with anger, whereas you maintained a polite and unassuming demeanor when interacting with your peers. In contrast, the rest of Bonnet’s idiots on board had no issues drawing attention to themselves and behaving like utter twats. 

It bothered Izzy to no end that he wasn’t able to figure you out. The puzzle became a fixation for him, especially as his captain sank deeper into the clutches of Stede Bonnet, a situation beyond Izzy’s control at the moment. Recognizing the potential danger in not understanding who you were, Izzy was determined to uncover more about you. Izzy harbored a general distrust for people already, even the pirates he felt he understood. On the quarterdeck, he observed you attempting to impart a lesson on swordplay to Bonnet’s scribe on the main deck. Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be a lost cause; the scribe came across as particularly lazy. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

“Lucius, focus. I thought we were here to practice,” you chided, your words directed at Lucius, who glanced up distractedly toward the quarterdeck. 

Lucius had been the person you connected with the most on The Revenge. Aside from Captain Bonnet, he shared the most similar background with you. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to focus, babe, when Dizzy Izzy is up there shooting daggers at us,” Lucius grumbled, nodding towards Izzy who observed from above. “What’s his deal?” 

“Just ignore him” you urged, subtly glancing up towards Izzy. “I feel like he’s always just staring.” 

This comment elicited a smirk from Lucius. “Not at me, he’s not.” Lucius whispered. 

“Sword fighting is like dancing,” you began, ignoring Lucius’s comment. Your words caused him to audibly groan. “Each strike is a coordinated step. You have to be able to lead and follow, anticipating each move like partners in rhythm.” 

“For the record, I hate dancing,” Lucius whined. 

You attempted to teach Lucius the art of sword fighting, emphasizing the importance of balance, footwork, and precise strikes. However, it became apparent that he was quickly losing interest. He struggled with the movements, and after a few attempts, he let out a sigh of defeat. Part of you couldn’t shake the disappointment as you realized that in Stede’s crew, finding someone decent to practice sword fighting with was proving to be a challenge. You had hoped that teaching Lucius would offer an opportunity to hone your skills, but his quick disinterest was clear. Your father, a master swordsman, had instilled in you the importance of these skills. Learning to wield a sword had once only been a way of connecting with him, but now it served as a skill for your survival. 

A sense of loneliness crept in as your mind drifted back to your home, the family, and friends you left behind. You came from a noble family, a family secretly grappling with financial struggles. Outwardly you and your family always maintained the air and manners of nobility, even though you lacked the comfort of wealth. You never truly felt like you belonged in that world. The desperation within your family eventually led to your departure, seeking a way to support them. Piracy had become the only realistic option, even though it left you feeling like an outsider. Stuck between two worlds, you found peace in the civility aboard Stede Bonnet’s ship, grateful for the steady income it provided, which served as a lifeline for your family. The sole confidant in your past was Lucius, and while he understood your perspective, you couldn’t shake the suspicion that the rest of the crew wouldn’t share the same understanding. 

Suddenly, Israel Hands appeared before you and Lucius. “Fuck off, Mr. Spriggs,” the first mate spat at him. Lucius shot you a worried look but promptly followed the instructions, likely relieved to have an excuse to escape the lesson. 

Once Lucius was out of sight, Izzy turned back around, eyeing you curiously. “Who taught you sword fighting?” Izzy questioned accusingly. 

“My father,” you replied plainly. In your upbringing, the importance of listening to those stationed above you was stressed, but you learned that sometimes, answering as simply as possible could get you out of tricky situations. This was not the first time Izzy had asked you questions about your past, but he was getting more persistent. 

“Who is your father?” Izzy rolled his eyes, edging closer to you in an attempt to appear intimidating. 

“No one that you know, sir,” you replied curtly. You had no interest in divulging your background, well aware that it would only complicate matters. Witnessing how the crew reacted to Stede Bonnet’s station, you understood that maintaining a low profile was crucial. The crew’s tendency not to take him seriously reinforced your resolve to keep your head down and focus on making enough to support your family. 

Izzy was visibly getting annoyed as you continued to dodge his questions. You observed his furrowed eyebrows raise, and you sensed that an idea had crossed his mind. 

“Let’s have a duel then. If I win, you tell me who you are and where you’re from,” Izzy challenged. 

You considered the offer, a part of you hoping that a victory on your part would finally put an end to Izzy’s inquiries. 

“Fine. If I win, you stop asking,” you replied with a sigh, agreeing to the duel in the hope of putting this matter to rest once and for all. 

The clash of steel reverberated through the air as you and Izzy engaged in a fierce sword fight. The dance of blades unfolded with a relentless intensity, each parry and thrust executed with precision. For much of the duel, you seemed to have the upper hand, skillfully anticipating Izzy’s moves and countering with calculated strikes. Despite the circumstances, a sense of enjoyment crept over you. Engaging in this sword fight felt like a proper duel. It became a form of meditation, your mind fully immersed in the combat, anticipating every move Izzy might make. In that moment, all other worries dissipated, leaving only the dance of steel. 

As the battle reached its climax, Izzy found himself on the defensive, struggling to keep up. However, with a swift move, he expertly kicked a leg from under you, sending you sprawling to the ground. In that moment of vulnerability, Izzy seized the opportunity. With a swift motion, he pointed his sword at your neck, and looked down towards you with a smirk. 

A sudden surge of anxiety gripped you as Izzy’s sword found its mark, pointing at your throat. The anonymity you had enjoyed among your crewmates, the chance to start anew without the weight of a title, was suddenly under threat. The idea of revealing your true identity to Izzy filled you with a sense of dread. The prospect of disclosing your background to Izzy meant potentially forfeiting the freedom you had found among the crew. 

Izzy withdrew his sword from your neck, smoothly returning it to his side, allowing you a moment to sit back and catch your breath. After a while, Izzy, wielding his sword with gentleness, used the flat of his weapon to gently lift your chin, ensuring your eyes met his. As your eyes locked with Izzy’s, a defiant glare emanated from your stare. 

“Who is your father?” Izzy repeated. 

In a hushed tone, you admitted, “He’s a duke,” the defiance still present in your unwavering stare directed at Izzy. With a deliberate motion, you shifted his sword aside with your hand and rose to your feet. 

Izzy sneered, his expression twisted with disgust. “Oh I see. You’re just another rich twatty playing at being a pirate for fun. You’re just like Stede fucking Bonnet.”

This was the reaction you had feared all along. A surge of rage consumed you at the insinuation that your life as a pirate was a frivolous choice. In response, you turned away from Izzy, no longer willing to listen to his insults. However, his firm grip on your arm halted your departure. 

“Did I speak out of turn?” Izzy taunted with sarcasm, trying his best to sound proper. 

You weren’t sure if it was anger or lingering emotions about your family, but tears welled up in your eyes. “You don’t know anything about the sacrifices I’ve had to make,” you spat at Izzy, attempting to hold back tears, though a few managed to escape. Swiftly wiping them away with your free hand, you jerked your arm from his grip and hurriedly descended below deck. 

 ⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Izzy observed you leaving, a sense of vindication washing over him for what he said to you. He was tired of nobles deciding they wanted to be pirates on a whim. However, he couldn’t shake off his confusion at your reaction. Unlike Stede Bonnet, you didn’t exude pride, but the idea of a noble on a pirate ship didn’t make sense to Izzy. Abruptly, Mr. Spriggs materialized at his side, a presence Izzy had overlooked in his intense focus on winning the sword fight. 

“Well Dizzy Izzy, that was pretty fucked up,” Lucius started. 

“Fuck off,” Izzy grumbled, feeling uniterested in engaging in the conversation. 

Lucius paid no heed to Izzy’s dismissal, crossing his arms as he spoke. “It’s actually quite sad,” he remarked with a frown. “Their father squandered the family’s fortune through gambling, and now they send all the money they earn back to support their mother and siblings.” 

Izzy held his silence as Lucius revealed more about your circumstances, a wave of guilt washing over him for the harsh words he had directed at you. 

“They mentioned piracy was the only option they had.” Lucius concluded, walking away with a satisfied air about the point he had made. 

“Fuck,” Izzy whispered, his regret palpable, and he descended below deck in search of you. 

Izzy discovered you in Bonnet’s ballroom, seated amongst the scattered cannonballs. The dim light revealed traces of tears on your cheeks. 

Izzy approached quietly. He gestured toward the vacant spot next to you on the floor, whispering, “Can I sit?” 

You nodded in acknowledgement, but your gaze remained fixed ahead, deliberately avoiding any eye contact with Izzy. 

Izzy began, "Mr. Spriggs told me about why you're here. I said some things I regret. It's honorable that you're trying to take care of your family."

"I just chose the least honorable way to do it," you replied. Despite the weight of the conversation, a small smirk played on your lips, and Izzy was relieved to see that you weren't in tears. "If I had a choice, I wouldn't be here," you continued.

"Where would you be?" Izzy asked curiously.

"I miss my family, but I never really felt like I belonged there either," you whispered, a hint of sadness in your voice.

"Maybe you wouldn't have chosen this life, but you belong here," Izzy whispered back. "Piracy is a place for people who feel like they don't belong anywhere." 

As Izzy glanced over at you sitting beside him, an unexpected emotion washed over him. In this moment, he found himself admiring and respecting the choices you had made. Moreover, it was the first time in a long while that Izzy had encountered someone capable of wielding a sword as skillfully as he could.

Izzy chuckled, "You almost kicked my ass during that fight."

"You kicked me, literally," you replied, playfully rolling your eyes. "That's the best fight I've had in a while."

"It's because you're surrounded by a ship full of twats who wouldn't know what side of a sword to use," Izzy grumbled.

Your laughter filled the air, causing Izzy's heart to skip a beat for a moment.

"We should fight more often," you suggested with a grin. "If I win, you have to tell me something about yourself, and if you win, I'll tell you more about me."

"Deal," Izzy replied quickly, a genuine eagerness in his tone. He wanted to learn more about you, intrigued by the prospect of unraveling the layers beneath the surface. The fact that you were interested in knowing about him surprised and pleased him. People rarely asked Izzy about himself anymore; they tended to accept the rumors at face value. He hoped the future would bring more sword fights and late-night conversations with you.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd x reader #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd fanfic #israel hands x reader #israel hands #ofmd izzy

[our-death-means-flag]

Headcanons: Hugging the Crew of the Revenge

All of them are my blorbos. I want to hug them. So, here’s that. First time posting on this account! Sorry if this sucks! Platonic or Romantic, up to you!

Stede

Probably not very experienced in giving hugs

Always liked the idea and wanted to hug people but it’s not very ‘proper’ and the poor guy didn’t really have any friends so hasn’t gotten to give many hugs

Has many stored up hugs waiting to be unleashed

Would be very eager but would probably overthink it

Give him a heads up. He wants to set up the ideal hug! Tea, pillows, blankets, the whole nine!

He would go and change into his softest clothes for the occasion

Fumbles his way through the first few seconds but once he gets a good handle on it, he gives very good hugs

Hugs you very gently 

Would be happy to read to you while hugging you if it would make you feel better

(It would also make him feel better)

Very soft (fine fabrics) and smells amazing

Just one hug from Stede and you’ll be smelling like flowers for the rest of your day 

Probably does the awkward dad pat on the back

Ed

Probably also not super experienced in hugs

But also very very excited

A very forceful hugger

He gets very excited okay?

Also he strong 

He will 100% squeeze the air out of your lungs

Would also appreciate being squeezed

(Ed would love weighted blankets and I will die on this hill)

Also probably the most likely to pick you up and swing you around

He won’t drop you don’t worry 

Despite all the shenanigans, his hugs feel very warm and sturdy

He was probably overthinking just as much as Stede but he’s just better at bluffing confidence

How does he win a hug?

If you tell him you he did a good job with it, congratulations, he will now hug you whenever he sees you 

Will probably ask for another hug right after putting you down

Izzy

Hugs for the rat-man

Local meow-meow has never been hugged

Will insist up and down that he doesn’t want/need a hug

He absolutely does but will never ask

Also no way is he self aware enough to even consider the possibility that he might need one

If you somehow manage to give him a hug, he will have absolutely no idea what to do 

Will probably stand there, hands awkwardly in the air like someone has him at gunpoint until you tell him it’s okay to touch you

Once he properly is hugging you he will melt immediately

This man is incredibly touch starved and this is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to him 

He gets one (1) kind gesture and he immediately has an existential crisis

Might cry and if you let him hide his face in your shoulder he’ll cry harder

Let him cry. Poor guy needs a good cry

Hugs incredibly gently by default (He doesn’t want to hurt you)

Will probably never ask for another hug but will be thinking about it for a long time

Please hug him again

Lucius 

Gives very good hugs, nice, comforting 

Definitely knows what to say to make you feel better 

Also pretty open with affection in general 

Loops his arm over your shoulder when talking etc.

Would probably whisper something flirty in your ear just to watch you get flustered (If you’re alright with it of course)

Would also go for the ass grab (he asks first of course)

If you’re strong enough to carry him, he would 100% ask you to

Though if you say yes even once he will keep asking. He’s kind of lazy and very flirty so he would be living the dream getting carried around

Also wouldn’t hesitate to rally the entire crew to give you a group hug if he thought it would help you 

Black Pete

Would initially insist he’s too cool for hugs

This doesn’t last more that ten seconds because he actually really likes hugs and will fold very quickly even if you don’t push

Seamlessly switches over to claiming he gives the best and coolest hugs

They are pretty cool hugs admittedly 

Comfy but a bit on the tight side 

Would give you a very strong pat on the back

Like a little too hard but he means well

He’s trying

Jim 

Doesn’t strike me as someone who likes hugs all that much

Not very physically affectionate in general 

If they did give one they’d probably be very gentle and they’d do their best to move slowly not to spook you since that’s what they’d prefer

Their hugs feel very safe and comforting

Jim would feel protective of you while they’re hugging you

They’re glaring at everyone over your shoulder 

If Oluwande dragged them into a group hug they’d be a bit more comfortable with that 

They’d probably prefer slinging their arm over your shoulder and sitting next to you to a proper hug

Comfortable but not too much touching involved

Olu

Very very good hugs

I can not emphasize enough how comfy and good his hugs would be 

A true master of hugs 

Knows exactly how much force to use and how long to make it 

Would gently rub your back 

Tells you that everything is going to be okay and you can’t not believe him

His hugs feel so safe you could easily fall asleep in his arms

He would let you if you did

Also probably send Jim to make sure everyone else keeps it down so you can sleep

10000/10 hug

Frenchie 

Loves hugs and physical affection 

The kind of person who would greet you with a hug

Careful at first but that’s mostly because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable 

Once you give him permission, he will hug you whenever he can

If you hug him from behind he can also play something for you

Cuddles. So many cuddles 

Will happily share a blanket or a pillow with you

Wee John

Loves hugs

Very comfy and soft and warm

Probably very careful about how tightly to hold you

Would pick you up and carry you around

He might drop you

Depending on where you both are and how close you two are he might just book it running 

For the chaos

Would totally let you sleep on top of him (He is a very cozy bed)

Roach

This might be overly specific but I think he’d be the type to run up behind you and jump scare you with a hug from behind 

If you do it back to him he would be pretty happy and proud

Personally I don’t think that startling someone on a ship where most people are armed is a great idea but in his mind if he gets stabbed he can fix it

What’s a little stabbing but a garnish on a hug?

Generally likes hugging from behind

If you’re trying some food he made for you he’d probably be draped over your shoulders like a blanket while waiting for your opinion 

The Swede

The Tackle Hug™

He got excited and just went for it

Sent both of you flying

He felt really bad about it and apologized a lot

Will do it again the next time he wants to hug someone 

No matter how many times it happens, he will never learn

Stede might suggest that the Swede uses it again during a raid as an attack and you have mixed feelings about that 

Ivan 

Hug neutral

If you need one or if a hug would make you feel better he’d be fine with that 

Probably won’t seek out hugs on his own though

You can cry or fall asleep in his arms and he’ll be fine with that

Will happily take care of you

Fang

I think he would be a little nervous 

He hasn’t given many hugs and he really doesn’t want to mess up

Would probably tell you that he’s nervous 

Once you assure him everything’s going to be okay he gives you a very good hug

Gets very excited and will be grinning for a while 

Very safe and warm

Buttons

Would give surprisingly good hugs

Gives you a comforting pat on the back

Grandpa hug vibes

Karl or Olivia would probably join in and perch on your head or shoulder (They also want you to know they support you)

Buttons would insist that the sea gives the best hugs. (You have no idea what to make of that. He probably isn’t threatening to throw you overboard. Probably )

Also make sure you do not ask him while he is moonbathing

He would absolutely pause the moonbathing to hug you 

But he will not pause to put on pants

Be warned

#ofmd x reader #our flag means death #izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #edward teach x reader #stede bonnet x reader #frenchie x reader #frenchie ofmd x reader #blackbeard x reader #could probably write whole fics for stede ed and Izzy #if anyone wants #count all the times a self conscious writer uses the word probably in a set of headcanons #im very nervous #this sat in my drafts for a week

[pandalorian36]

Izzy Hands x (male) reader

A: You're right. I was jealous. B: I know. A: It was foolish. B: It was. A: Must you agree with me all of the time?

Leaning over the bar I grin at the bartender “Two scotches.” the women grins winking “Two scotches coming right up.” She hands me one glass but keeps the other out of reach “The other will cost you your name.” I sigh doing a small mock bow “L/N.” I hold my hand out for the glass, but she doesn’t hand it over leaning on the bar instead flicking her hair over one shoulder “You're pretty cute for a pirate.” I sigh clenching my glass “I’m here with my partner.” She giggles twirling the glass “A pirate who does not wish to dally how odd.” I frown brow furrowing “My drink.” She giggles leaning closer “Am I not pleasing to you?” I scowl “My drink.” She hands it over running a finger down my chest “I’ll be here should you change your mind.”

“Hands off.” I grin taking a step back and sipping from my drink the bartender looks Izzy up and down “What’s your problem?” Izzy scowls “You’re touching my man.” I grin wrapping an arm around his waist “Come on.” He doesn’t budge fists clenching “Iz lets go.” He takes my glass shattering it on the counter at which point I haul him over my shoulder carrying him out while he swears.

“Iz calm down.” I lower him back to the ground glaring “I am calm.” I chuckle “Course you are.” He scowls “I’m fine.” I grin brushing hair out his face “You sure darlin? You’re not jealous?”

“I don’t get jealous.” I grin leaning closer “You sure.”

“I don’t get jealous.” I laugh brushing my lips against his “Sure love. Let’s get back to the ship.” He continues grumbling while we walk making me laugh, I throw my arm around his waist kissing his cheek “Don’t worry love, only got eyes for you.” as we draw nearer to the ship, I pull my arm back crossing them casually behind my back. Ed grins sauntering over “Anything interesting going on in town?” I shake my head going over to Lucius, Jim and Olo sat on the deck playing cards. “Care to join us hot stuff?” I roll my eyes slightly slumping down next to Jim “Lay of Lucius.”

“Merely stating the facts. You really should let me sketch you.” I frown glaring at the dark-haired man “Not going to happen.”

“I think you would make a wonderful model.”

“Lucius drop it.” he smirks “Come on I’ve sketched pretty much everyone at this point. Just one little drawing.” I go to reply when a shadow falls over our group a hand skimming my shoulder gently “What are you all doing?” Pete smiles slightly “Resting, Captain gave us the day off.” Lucius sighs dramatically while pointing at his sketchbook “Y/N won’t let me draw them.” I stand trying to subtly push Izzy backwords “No and I’m not going to change my mind.” Lucius grins standing as well leaning forward “All I am asking is one little drawing. We’ve all seen you working on the rigging.” Izzy tenses while I frown “Lucius, I suggest you drop it.” I turn away managing three steps before Lucius makes a mistake “Anyone else think their butt looks incredible in those trousers.”

I hear a thud then a splash followed by loud clammering from the rest of the crew. Groaning I turn the others gathering around the railing Izzy seething fists balled at his side. Pete is practically over the railing yelling “Lucius? Babe? You, okay?” Fang grips Pete’s waist preventing him from falling over the edge.

Olo and Roach grab the rope ladder lowering it over the side while Pete rounds on Izzy “What the hell? You pushed him.” Izzy scowls “Care to join him?” I sigh grabbing his arm and pulling him away to the other side of the boat “Really Iz? You’ve got to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“You didn’t need to push him overboard.” He shrugs slightly “Accident.” I roll my eyes sighing “Right an accident. Really Iz, you’re all over the place today.” He scowls glaring over my shoulder at Lucius who is drenched “What the fuck was that for?” Izzy tenses and before he can retaliate, I shove him into the side of the boat hands gripping the front of his jacket while I crash my lips into his. Screw the crew, they need to learn.

Izzy relaxes hands moving to my hips. Grinning I pull away kissing him once more before turning to face the rest of the crew all staring with slack jaws and wide eyes. “Now excuse me I have stores to tidy.” I walk away smirking at Izzy who is looking a little spaced out.

Kneeling down in the storeroom I start sorting through the new barrels and crates a smirk still plastered on my face. Footsteps stomp into the room shortly after which I choose to ignore until he starts speaking.

“You’re right. I was jealous.”

I grin moving another crate “I know.”

“It was foolish.”

I grin standing “It was.”

“Must you agree with me all of the time?”

Chuckling I turn around backing Izzy into the wall “But I am so rarely wrong.” He snorts heat filling his cheeks “So everyone now knows.” I shrug grinning “Just means I can do this when ever I want.” I press my body against his one hand burying in his hair the other on his waist “If this is what happens every time I get jealous, it may happen more often.” Grinning I kiss him again “Just have to prove I’ve only got eyes for you. My grouchy pirate.” He rolls his eyes slightly a soft smile on his face lessening the effect “Whatever.” Laughing I kiss his cheek “I should get back to work. Can’t be slacking in front of the first mate.” He shrugs slightly arms wrapping around my waist “I think your due a break.”

#x reader #x y/n #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy #izzy hands #israel hands #ofmd #ofmd x reader #pirates #male reader #israel hands x reader

[brwnicons]

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.

#izzy #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy #izzyposting #izzy x male reader #israel hands #x male reader #ofmd x reader #ofmd x male reader #ofmd x gn reader #izzy x gn reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #izzy x reader #israel hands x reader #fluff #ofmd fluff #our flag means death #our flag means gay #gay

[letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse]

<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: The fallout from the storm leaves more answers than questions for the crew, as they do their best to heal from wounds past, present and future.

A/N: Hiiiiiiii, besties! Chapter 5 is officially here! Whoop whoop! Who's ready to board the Angst express? Also, Happy Easter!

Content Warning: Knives, mention of injuries, trauma, sensory overload, mentions of drowning and blood. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, REPUBLISH, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. I DO NOT OWN OFMD OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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

She watched as the ship came rolling in. A flurry of activity upon the main deck, as the anchor was dropped, and a plank lowered to connect the boatside and port. Something was wrong- she could sense it. Usually when the Revenge paid a visit to the Republic of Pirates, there was a certain frisson of excitement and promise of good times. This time around, the crew's calls were not sentiments of hopeful anticipation but anxious haste to disembark.

Spanish Jackie's eyes narrowed, as she spied upon the weary form of one Oluwande, supporting an equally worn out Jim and Archie. Damn, she had never seen them looking for forlorn and exhausted. Sure, pirating was not the most glamouroud of professions but cuts, bruises and...what even was that staining their clothes? Yeah, the trio had seen better days, that was for sure. "What the fuck happened?" the bar owner forgo her usual greeting, demanding to know what the hell was going on.

Oluwande regarded the business woman with a look of pure reluctance. He was tired- no, scratch that- he was bone-achingly, soul-wearily exhausted, to the point where talking felt like a curse and a chore. Every fibre of his very being was screaming in unison for him to collapse upon the ground and become one with the dirt. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust and all that jazz.  "Ship got caught in a storm."

"Any casualties?"

It only happened occasionally but there were times when Oluwande would get overwhelmed and it was like something in his brain switched off, needing to go on standby for a while, until he felt more settled and assured. His partners were aware of the main triggers that would induce a sensory overload. Things like a cacophony of clashing ambient sounds or extreme exhaustion would prompt him to remain silent for a while.

It had never really phased Jim, Archie- and when she was visiting- Zheng. As soon as he had explained it to them, their only main concern was making sure Oluwande felt supported during those periods of quiet. Whether it was finding him a safe space to decompress or making sure he got enough rest- the great loves of his life always endeavoured make sure his needs were met.

Sensing their partner's increasing distress at having to be verbal, Archie quickly spoke in Oluwande's place. "We're bringing them out now. Is there a doctor nearby?" the grateful upturning of his lips confirmed her suspicions. Always happy to help, the pirate have him a gentle squeeze around the shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah...Oi, you! Yeah, you!" Jackie called out to one of her many husbands. How she kept track of them all was anyone's guess but damn, Archie was impressed. The lady had mad game. If the pirate weren't so burnt out, she might have been even more impressed byt in the particular moment, she just wanted a comfortable seat and a warm meal. "Send the doctor to the local Inn. Tell him he's gonna have a real busy fucking morning. Oh and that The Genital Pirate will be paying!" like hell was Jackie going to foot what was going to undoubtedly be one expensive bill. She knew Stede was loaded but hopefully he had enough coin in that silk purse of his to pay the handsome fare.

Jackie's attention refocused when she caught sight of Swede supporting Blackbeard's right hand man. Damn, did every single member of the Revenge look equally as haggard? "Fuuuuck, you look like you've seen better days." Izzy could not bring himself to respond with his usual sharpness. Gods, he felt as fucking wonderful as he looked. The rescue mission had been an absolute nightmare. So many collective moments of thinking, 'this is it, this is how I go', that amounted to finally pulling Pete's unconscious body from the watery depths. It was a miracle that the First Hand himself had not drowned. In all honesty, Izzy could not decide which was worse, this storm or the night he lost his leg. "Wow, must be bad if you aren't even telling me to 'fuck off'."

The sound of more footsteps took the spotlight off of the weary First Mate, who was glad to have Jackie's attention directed elsewhere. In that moment, the silver-haired pirate allowed himself a moment of weakness to lean upon Swede more than he generally would have done, under different circumstances. But he was tired. Tired of always having to be capable and strong fir those around him. It was quite nice having someone support him for a change.

The charismatic business woman offered her signature wolf-like grin at the two co-captains, who had finally made their way to shore. No obvious wounds to be seen upon their persons, she noted, wondering who it was out of the cohort whom required such urgent care. "Eddie. Hello, Stede. So, a storm, huh?"

A storm, yeah. Some storm, Stede thought, as he felt Ed's grip around his waist tighten at the mere metion of what they has all just survived. Before the blonde could even open his mouth to give a retort, his lover beat him to the punch with a bitter laugh. "If you could call it that. Felt more like a trip to fucking Hell."

"Heard you got some injuries..." the words died, as she and the rest of the waiting crew, moved to let Fang and Roach carry the first of several makeshift gurneys up the hill. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah. 'Oh, shit'." Ed muttered, watching was a solemn gaze, as the body was carried into the nearby Inn.

"That's a lotta fucking blood."

====

Perhaps they should have washed up before sitting down in the Inn's small dining area. Well, if you could really call it that. It was more of a gloried room with a few tables and chairs. Still, the plates of cheese and bread were more gratefully recieved by the famished pirates, who could barely recollect when they had last eaten. What day was it even? The storm had felt like it had lasted an eternity.

"There was so much blood." Wee John commented, as he bit into another piece of bread. It was almost inedibly dry but thankfully, the cold pitcher of water, in the middle of the table, solved such issues.

Swede nodded with mild enthusiasm. He did not mind the bread's texture so much, having eaten some truly horrific meals during his time at sea. However, the cheese. Oh, the cheese. It was chalky in texture. The blonde was not aware that cheese could be so powdery. "So much. Maybe even too much?"

"I didn't even realise a person could bleed that much." yeah, no. The cheese was actually worse than the bread, John decided, pushing away his plate in disgust.

"Surely that was an abnormal amount of blood, right?"

Whilst Roach was the most seasoned out of them all when it came to seeing blood...and severed body parts, even he had to admit, it had been an alarming amount of...red. "Yeah, that's gotta be some witchcraft or something. People don't bleed that much." he blamed the fairies. Yeah, it was the fairies fault for sure. They must have been displeased with his offering of thanks, after they made the bread rise.  and cursed the ship with their fairy magic. That was the only logical answer.

Also, the bread at the Inn really was fucking disgusting.

====

It felt almost sickeningly self-indulgent to allow someone so intrinsically well-meaning to tend to such a wretched soul as he and yet, Ed could not bring himself to push away Stede's gentle touch. In fact, the once gruesome legend found himself leaning into the tender caresses. Despite the apparent care he was receiving, Ed could not quieten his racing thoughts. No matter how much he proverbially tried to smother the insidious voice,  that whispered vile realities, from the recesses of his mind. "Fuck." he cursed, as his lover carded his fingers through the silvery tresses. "This is bad, Stede."

The Gentleman Pirate faltered in his ministrations, knowing full well that Ed was not referring to his loving gestures. "I know." there was a graveness that tinged his tone, confirming all of Ed's most intimate fears. If happy-go-lucky Stede Bonnet thought the situation was dire, then Ed was well and truly fucked.

"The crew's gonna blame me for everything, you know?"

He did not want to agree. Oh, how he did not want to but despite his whim-prone ways, Stede knew that they both had to be realistic about the given situation. It would be a fool's error to assune that everything was okay with the crew, that things would magically go back to the way there were and a few weeks time, the Revenge would set sail once more. "I do."

"And they've gotta point. If I hadn't royally fucked them all up during the last storm, we'd've had all hands on deck. And..." the question tasted bitter on his tongue, souring the lingering taste of all the sweetest kisses they had ever shared. Ed knew that Stede's answer had the potential to break his heart into a million pieces but as a suckered for punishment, the pirate had to know his lover's honest opinion. "Do...do you blame me?"

Moving to stand between his lover's legs, Stede gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Ed's ear, noting just how defeated his boyfriend looked. That would just not do, he thought. "Honestly? No, no I don't." the co-captain's attempt at a smile was strained at best but still, it allowed sone light to encroach on the heaviness that dwelled within Ed's heart. Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, truly was a lighthouse to the once lost soul. "In fact, I blame myself. I underestimated how deeply traumatised the crew was. So, if anyone is to blame, it's me."

What, no! No, no, that did not make any sense to the silver-haired pirate. No, he and he alone was to blame. How could some so...so good and loving as Stede be to blame for the atrocities caused in the name of Blackbeard? "But they wouldn't have been traumatised if I hadn't-"

As much as Stede was usually a firm believer in talking things through as a crew, he also was well-versed in the thought pattern of his fretting amour. Such a conversation could go round and round in circles for hours, if he did not shock the man into breaking the spiralling of his mind. Nothing too drastic, just enough to snap him out of the self-loathing and bring him back to the present moment. A tender kiss was often the best option for such a task. It was short, sweet. No taking, only giving. Providing comfort and a promise of unconditional love.

Pulling back after a beat, Stede kept his forehead pressed against Ed's, savouring the closeness and allowing the pirate the option to lean in for another, should he crave such a thing. "Guess we'll just have to be co-blamed, hmm?" Stede whispered, offering another freely given smile. This time, it felt more genuine. Easier. Almost as easy as breathing.

And with that, Ed tugged the

Gentleman Pirate closer into his encircled hold, until the blonde was situated on his lap, needing him to be as near as physcially possible. "I needed that." the silver-haired man mumbled, as he buried his face  against the drenched fabric of Stede's shirt.

The once pristine material was tainted with...he did not even know who's blood it was. All he had witnessed was the bloody aftermath in the hold, before he ordered Buttons to clean what he could and leave the rest for the repairmen to  deal with. The familiar iron scent overwhelming Ed's senses. Man, the stench of decay transported him back to that unwelcome memory of when the night the Kraken was truly purged from existence...

====

"Did you see his face?" the mystic questioned his drinking buddy, as they sat side by side, outside in the pleasant warmth.

Though he preferred the silvery light of the divine moon, Buttons could certainly appreciate all that the sun had to offer. The basking rays of golden splendor were a much welcome gift from Mother Nature, after the heavy downpour of the previous days. It was too nice a day to be stuck inside. Plus, someone had to pay mind to the crew's clothes, as they dried outside on the line.

"Who's face?" Fang questioned, as he took another swig from the bottle he had brought from Spanish Jackie. Though his usual preference was rum, the fresh orange juice was definitely a nice change of pace. Good for you too, he thought, savouring the sweet, citrus flavour.

He was thankful to be able to experience something as simple as drinking juice from a bottle. After the events of the storm, he had been so sure that none of the Revenge's crew would live to see another day, let alone taste an orange. It was terrifying to even pause and consider how close to death they had been only a mere twenty four hours ago.

No, no, enough of that, the pirate chided himself, as the tell-tale sting of tears threatened to blur his vision. He was safe now. They were all safe. Well, most were safe, Fang thought glumly, remembering how all good cheer for surviving the beast of a storm, had instantly been snuffed out at the emerging form of Captain Stede. Damn, there had been so much blood.

Fang was well-versed at witnessing so much gore but outside of a raid environment, the sight had turned his stomach. He had fight back the waves of nausea, that threatened to cause bile to spill past his lips. Thankfully, no such incident had occurred. The last thing the pirate needed was a vomit-inspired nickname.

"Izzy's."

"No."

"Looked like he'd seen a ghost."

Were Izzy sat with them now, he would have undoubtedly told the pair to 'shut the fuck up' but the First Mate was nowhere in sight. In fact, Fang could not recall when he had last seen the other pirate. He assumed that, like the rest of the crew, Izzy had locked himself away in one of the many rooms but now that he pondered on it more, had Fang caught sight of Izzy following in tow, as your body had been carried off the ship? Perhaps he was by your side right now. Fang liked the idea of that better, than Izzy being holed away in some dingy space, with only a bottle for comfort. He also liked the prospect of you being kept company.

"Probably has." Buttons continued, his gaze scanning the nearby shoreline. On the horizon, you could easily spot the Revenge, in all her damaged glory. Once a proud vessel, now a shell of her former self. "The ship'll be haunted now, for sure. No way anyone can survive bleeding that much and live to tell the tale." he added gravely.

====

"What's the damage?" the once fearsome First Mate asked, as he sank into a nearby armchair opposite the lengendary- oh, who was he kidding, it was fucking Edward, for goodness sake- who was busy doing fuck all but getting lost in his spiralling thoughts.

Pouring his new companion an equally large dose of rum into a secondary glass, which had been meant for Stede but he was off somewhere, talking to the doctor about an update. "Multiple crew injuries, a damaged ship and a potential mutiny on our hands." he rattled off the list as if it merely contained supplies needed for the crew.

At the sound of the word 'mutiny', Izzy could no suppress his scoff. After everything that had happened, the pirate highly doubted that the shipmates of the Revenge were even thinking about rebelling against their co-captain. If anything, their main focus would probably be getting a change of clothes, food and getting absolutely stinking pissed in their rooms. Hell, that was all that Izzy had planned his agenda that evening. In fact, a glass of this poorly aged rum was a good start. Downing the drink in one go, he savoured the familiar burn, as it warmed his throat and chest. Urgh, it was truly disgusting. Had the owners watered it down? "The crew actually mentioned anything about kicking off, or are you just being a narcissistic prick?"

"Izzy..." Ed all but begged for the man to take him seriously. Emotions amongst the crew were surely running high and once the option of a mutiny entered their minds, the idea would spread like wildfire, burning through everything he and Stede had fought so hard to build together, leaving in it's smoldering wake nothing but ash and potentially, his charred corpse.

"Look," "I'll keep my ear to the ground, see if I hear any actual rumblings, okay?"

"Thank you."

"Twat."

"Have you been to see them?"

"Don't-" during his time on the rocky waves, he had been thankful that you were at least safe in the hold and not there to witness both the demise of him and your friend. If only he had known what was really afoot in the hold, Izzy would have kept you by his side. Hell, he would have left the crew to their own fucking devices- storm be damned- and kept you hidden from sight in the safety of his cabin. "I can't...not with you. Not right now, Edward. I..." the uncharacteristic break in his voice caught his lifelong companion by surprise.

Ed knew how much Izzy cared about you. For fucks sake, the man was not as subtle as he thought he was when it came to his pining. However, Ed could list on one hand the amount of times he had witnessed the First Mate's stoic mask crack under the pressure of intense emotion. It felt almost blasphemous to pay witness to the glassiness, that built up in Izzy's eyes, as the silver-haired pirate tried his damned hardest to not breakdown right there and then. "I'm not blaming you but-" a gloved hand came to settle over his mouth, as a sob ripped through his body.

Gods, it was just one nightmare after another. But you. Oh, you. Just the mere recollection of your body being bundled onto a makeshift gurney and carried past the crew, as they stood in horrified silence on the hill, was sure to haunt Izzy for the rest of his wretched days. And Izzy could not even blame Frenchie for what had happened. The poor bastard had been lost in a hallucination, caused by unresolved trauma. Had he been in control of his mind, there was no doubt that the young man would never have dreamed of injuring you- accident or otherwise. "you might as well have been the one to put the knife in his hand." he all but whined, sounding as broken as he felt.

"Iz, I'm-"

"No. No, I don't want to hear it. Fuck your apology, Edward." he meant every word. Izzy did not want Ed to feel any worser than he already did. Isreal Hands was many things but he was not vindictive. Well, he was not feeling vindictive at that particular moment. Calm him soft but sailing the seven seas with Bonnet's ragtag group of misfits had shown the First Hand an alternative life to being a pirate. One full of love and a found family. While Izzy could still be hurtful with his words, he was trying so desperately to be better. Anything for those he loved. Had he not promised the exact same thing to you? "I'm at fault too." but before Ed could even dare to interrupt with a protest, the silver-haired pirate was quick to shake his head. Roughly drying his tears, Izzy delivered one last line to his captain, "I fed your fucking darkness back then. Let them blame me too."

Let (y/n) hate me too, it's what I deserve, Izzy thought, as he downed the rest of the glass and stood to make his exit, wanting nothing more now than to get blind drunk on whatever disgusting excuse for rum the inn could offer.

====

"I'm not saying I blame him completely. I'm just saying it's his fault." Jim whispered to her partner, as the sat outside the door to their shared room. Oluwande was inside decompressing after his sensory overload and while the two pirates knew he needed space, they felt more assured remaining at least in the hallway, should he need anything.

It felt good, Archie thought, as they took a bite of the cheese Wee John had brought up for them to share, to be able to rest for a moment. After everything that had happened, it was a miracle that they had survived the storm. What a blessing it was to be able to sit beside their partner, share food and even breathe the same air. When quite frankly, they should have all been sleeping with the fishes. "Completely, yeah and I hear you, babe. It's just that- you know- if Izzy hadn't poked the bear-"

"Oh, no. Totally. The guy fucked us all over." Jim agreed half-heartedly. It was not anything personal to Archie. Usually, the pirate would be all for talking things through. However, it had gotten to a point in the day where, they felt unable to really process any more information, let alone mentally dissect the thought pattern of another person. So, whilst they were not fully engaged in the conversation, Jim recognised that Archie obviously needed a sounding board while the worked through some things. And, hey, once Oluwande was awake, he could take their place, while they got some much needed rest.

Taking another bite, they ruminated over the chalky consistency of the cheese. Yeah, there was something  definitely not quite right with it. After one more testing bite, it was then they realised that the kind gesture had not been all that kind. Wee John had proffered bad cheese on them! That bastard...

The more Archie considered the gravity of the situation, the more she found herself not being able to completely cast the blame onto the First Mate.

So much had happened during the Kraken era. So many horrible, terrible, unforgivable things. And yet, she knew that deep down, things could have been so much worse. There were times when they had been so sure that Blackbeard was going to punish them for something but the cut of a knife never came. There was no barrel of a pistol to stare down. Archie had always considered those moments to be based on pure luck or prayers answered by the snake god, Manasa. Knowing what she did now, the pirate realised that it had been Izzy taking the fall for their shortcomings. He was not a guardian angel by any means but credit was given where credit was due, the guy had suffered for his infatuation with the lethal myth. His anatomical sacrifices had saved their lives on more than one occasion. "I guess he did kinda pay the price by losing his leg."

====

"We've managed to stabilise them. It'll be a bit touch and go over the next few days but right now, we're optimistic for a full recovery." the doctor explained in a hushed tone, as he and the co-captain lingered outside his patient's door.

A sigh he had not been aware he was holding, escaped his lips. Okay, that was something, right? They could work with 'touch and go'. The battle was not over yet, at least. There was still hope. "That's...that's really great news. Thank you for all your hard work. Myself and the crew really appreciate all your efforts."

"I'd recommend in the meantime, minimal visitors. Only people they're closest to on the ship, that kind of thing. Just while we're monitoring things." at the mere mention of visitors, Stede was already knew who should have be first in line to pay the patient a visit. The only question was, were they sober enough to sit by the bedside without throwing up everywhere? He highly doubted it. The last he had seen of the other man, he had been clutching a bottle tightly to his chest, as he made his way up the stairs and to hide away in his room.

"Of course, I'll let everyone know."

"One last thing, Jackie did mention that you'd be footing the bill."

"Ah, yes. Of course." the blonde dare not think about the extortionate amount that the doctor was about to charge him. Still, the gentleman had at least stabilised any serious wounds, so Stede supposed he did deserve some coin. "Let me get my purse."

====

With your fight or flight insticts in overdrive, the sound of the door opening, had caused you to reach for the knife you kept concealed under a nearby pillow. The pirate would have assumed that following your plight in the hold, you would have been unsteady upon your feet and yet, you moved at an surprising speed. In the blink of an eye, you had abandoned your post on the bed and had the serrated edge of the blade pressed against his throat.

If anyone else had dared to attempt such an act, they surely would have been impaled on their own weapon but with you, the silver-haired pirate, fought tooth and nail to keep his insticts at bay. He let you slowly regain your sense and return to yourself, as you blinked a few times. Whatever fear plagued your mind, slowly lifted, allowing you to recognise your surroundings and not deem the man before you as a threat.

The blade clattered to the floor, as you arm dropped to your side. You supposed this was the moment you were meant to feel shame for having threatened the life of the man you called co-captain and yet, you felt nothing. No emotions bubbled to the surface. All that remained, in the wake of your momentary lapse of mental control, was a much-welcomed numbness, that sat heavy as a stone within the center of your sternum. The feeling of nothing was far better preferred to the overwhelming waves of grief and terror, that had previously coursed through your veins.

Ed's gaze momentarily broke your intense eye contact, to survey the discarded knife. Only then did he notice the tarnished metal. Crimson coated it's exterior and while he could not be fully certain that it was not your blood, that adorned the crude metalwork, there was not doubt in his mind that, this was the same weapon that Frenchie had brandished in the storage hold. The Captain had his suspicions as to why you had kept it in your possession but such thoughts would have to remain entirely his own, until you were suitably taken care of.

You watched the man warily, as he bent to pick up the knife. Despite the tensing of your muscles, he did not pay your on edge disposition any mind, while he took his time to place the blade upon the modest writing desk. Ed was conscious to keep his movements steady- no sudden gestures, nothing to spook you in your heightened state of alert.

With the knife out of harm's way, his attention zoned in once more on you, as you stood just a few feet away, anxiously wringing your hands, as if you expected something foul to befell you, now that you were without your trusty blade.

Despite your fears, your demeanour softened a fraction, when the once fearsome myth of a man offered you a rare smile. It was small. Hell, barely even noticeable to the untrained eye but you spotted it all the same. It was a gesture meant to comfort, to put you at ease and well, whilst your nerves remained frayed, you could not deny that, his presence was more than welcome in that cramped space of yours. Company served as a distraction from the intrusive memory of your time in the storage held.

He dared to take a step towards you, and then another, when you did not cringe away from his approach. Edcarefully watched you for any subtle changes to your physical appearance. From the rise and fall of your chest, to the wide-eyed stare- any discernible flicker of your trepidation rising by even a fraction, he would back away. All he wanted was to help you feel more like yourself again, not worsen your mental and physical stare further.

Toe to toe, you now stood. So close in fact, you could feel the much welcomed heat radiating from his leather clad body. Perhaps you should have listened to the adrenaline-fuelled alarm bells that screamed in your head, as you allowed the pirate to take your hand in his but there was something about his gentle touch, that kept you rooted firmly to the spot. He turned your hand to be palm up, as he examined the crude, jagged line, that marred the skin from the base of your digits, to the crook of your elbow. Really, it should have been cleaned and bandaged hours ago by the doctor. Roach had tried his best but your hysteria had prevented any actual medical intervention. Now that it was just you and Ed, alone in some random room at the inn, you finally became aware of how painful and itchy the wound felt.

You winced, as his ran a thumb along the inflamed skin, noting the budding infection that bloomed beneath the damaged surface. You could have sworn you had heard him mumble a quiet, "Sorry." Though, in your current state, it could have just been your mind playing tricks on you. "You have two choices." he suddenly stated, interrupting the stifling silence that had sat heavily in the atmosphere. "Get cleaned up and then have the doctor take a look at this." Ed explained concisely, carefully letting your arm drop to your side. "Or you can see the doctor now and we'll get you cleaned up later." his arms roamed over your shirt. The once pristine (colour choice) was now completely ruined by the nauseating dark red, that now saturated most of the cloth. Ed doubted that it was your arm that had caused such monumental stain.

The overwhelming sense of guilt reared it's ugly head, as the pirate felt the familiar tug of sorrow pull at his heart strings. To hell with what Izzy had said, this was his fault and his alone, Ed thought, blaming himself for the precarious predicaments of his crew's wellbeing. Izzy may have instigated his bad behaviour all those many moons ago but Ed had allowed himself to thrive in the darkness and pain of Blackbeard. This was all his doing but by the grace of Calypso, he was going to make amends. Anything and everything to make his crew feel whole and mentally stable once more. Starting with you. "So, what'll it be, (y/l/n)?"

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

A/N: It's your choice, dear reader, what would you prefer- get cleaned up first and then see the doctor or vice versa? Chime off in the comments or vote in the poll here and I'll write whichever decision gets the most votes.

P.S. oh, just one more thing, either choice will completely change the trajectory of the story. So, pick wisely!

#avengeofmd #avenge ofmd #save ofmd #ofmd izzy #blackbeard #stede bonnet #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd stede #our flag means death #ofmd fanfic #izzy x reader #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #israel hands x reader #Israel Hands #snow at the beach #season 3 renewal #renew as a crew #ed teach #edward teach #my writing #angst #letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse #letsdeerintheheadlights #izzy hands x male reader #izzy hands x fem!reader

[hmserebusadjacent]

Now That I See You

Izzy Hands/Male Reader (Both Aromantic and Asexual)

Summary: You guess correctly that today is Izzy's birthday, and you are determined to treat him to a nice day out. The end of the evening brings about the reveal of your feelings for each other.

Word count: 2756

AO3 link:

“Izzy, can I make an assumption? Please feel free to tell me if I’m wrong.”

Izzy Hands looked at you with narrowed eyes, suspicious but intrigued by what you had to say.

“Go on.”

You took a deep breath and smiled calmly.

“Happy birthday.”

Izzy inhaled his next breath quickly, so quickly you worried he might choke on it. He regarded you in a new light now, moving closer unintentionally to get a better look at you.

“How did you…?”

Izzy Hands was looking at you as if you were magical, too stunned to speak.

“Magic”, you replied cheekily, winking at him. Izzy blustered a laugh, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

“You are truly bizarre.”

You physically preen, shaking your shoulders out.

“Thanks.”

You look at him more seriously, taking in the man and wanting to make him feel more comfortable. You take a step forward and he watches you softly.

“Seriously though. I get the same around my birthday. Wanting to hide away more and to just try and forget the whole thing is happening.”

Izzy looked down at his own feet, a flush lighting up his cheeks. You couldn’t tell whether it was from embarrassment over being so easily read or from something else.

“You deserve to be celebrated.”

You looked up into Izzy’s eyes and saw the genuine feeling there. Oh. Well, that was delightful.

“I could say the same of you, Iz.”

The man scoffed a laugh but you wouldn’t back down. You gently laid a hand on his shoulder and he looked between it and you, trying to work you out. His shoulder did relax under your hand though, which was nice.

“If you’ll let me, I have a few things I’d like to treat you to today.”

You squeeze his shoulder, trying to be comforting and confident even though the look in his eyes right now makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet.

“Me?”

You nod, smiling.

“Yeah, you. Just to try and show you why I care about you so much. To show that you can be treated nicely, more than once in a while.”

Izzy nodded, whether it was to himself or to you. He looked out toward the island in front of the ship, to the large town on the coast that was alive with possibilities. Then he looked back toward you, assessing you. You were good friends at this point, and you knew that Izzy trusted you implicitly and you him. But there were still times when he looked at you as if everything could crumble into the ocean and either you would give him a reason to regret his trust or he would fuck things up so hideously that you would never want to look at him again.

This time, he seemingly wanted to put his faith in you and the bond you shared.

He held out his arm, forming a little crook near his elbow.

“Come on then. Show me the wonders of what a good birthday can be.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that formed on your lips as you took Izzy’s arm.

“You won’t regret this, Iz. I promise.”

Izzy desperately hoped that you meant it.

—--

As you walk down off of the gangway with your arm through Izzy’s, you feel like you are practically glowing. Izzy moves away from you only for long enough to offer his hand as you step onto the pier, and you admire again how much of a gentleman he is around you. You retake his arm and lead him over to a few of the interesting looking stalls along the front.

Izzy isn’t normally much of a one for shopping but today he tries to look interested in more things, pointing out things that he thinks you might like to. When you introduce the idea of you buying him a few gifts he is incredibly hesitant at first, not wanting you to waste your money on him. In as polite and gentle a way as possible, you remind him that you had done incredibly well from the last raid by finding a secret stash within the hold of the ship.

With that in mind, and perhaps with a heavy flush on his cheeks, Izzy concedes the point and begins looking more seriously at things he might like. Along the seafront you treat him to some new hair oils that smell like oranges and spices, and watching him inhale the scents again after you bought them for him was amazing.

As you headed further into the town, you bought a few bits for yourself including more sewing supplies in case you were going to offer to mend Izzy’s shirts again. The last time you had done it, you had sewn a tiny heart over the last remaining stitch to keep it in place, and knowing that little heart was pressed against Izzy’s skin did wonderful things to your heart.

If Izzy knew about it, he hadn’t said anything. But the way he smiled at you sometimes as he tugged on his shirt to make it more comfortable told you that maybe he was aware of it.

A few stalls later and Izzy had picked himself out a few nice rings. They glittered on his fingers like stars, making his hands look even more enticing. After you spotted a ring that you were making puppy eyes at, Izzy insisted on buying it for you, taking it straight from the vendor and slipping it onto your middle finger. That action alone had your heart racing, let alone the fond look Izzy Hands gave you afterwards.

By the time it was lunch time, the pair of you were really quite hungry. You insisted on taking Izzy to a bar that you knew. It was slightly more upper crust than Izzy was likely used to but you just wanted him to try some incredibly hearty food for once and not feel guilty about it. The bar owner welcomed you with open arms, delighted to have you gracing their establishment again and taking you to a table with the best view possible. They gave you an almost knowing look as Izzy seated himself on a stool, and you quickly shot them a look before they hurried off with a giggle.

By a very nice miracle, the bar owner decided that today was when you could call in a favour that they owed you, so round after round of delicious food was sent yours and Izzy’s way. Izzy picked through a lot of it until he could make sense of what everything was, and you did your best to assuage his fears by telling him the ingredients you knew and enjoying every bite you took with relish.

When Izzy took the first bite of a dish he really liked, you watched the dawning enjoyment on his face with absolute pleasure. After that he tucked in without hesitation, sampling all that he could whilst sending you surreptitious glances to make sure that you were eating heartily as well. When the two of you were well and truly full, you wandered over to the bar with the dirty plates just to do your little bit to help out. Your barkeep friend said that they were glad you had found someone to be yourself with, and commented that your friend Izzy seemed to be entirely himself around you too.

You paid your respects to your friend and received a hearty hug in return. When you returned to Izzy the man was softly smiling, playing with some of the rings on his fingers. As you left the bar he offered you his arm again and you gladly took it.

Then you both spent the next few hours wandering around a sort of public garden, just chatting the time away. Sometimes you would reach out to run your hands across leaves that looked like they had nice textures and Izzy had a look in his eye that made it seem like he desperately wanted to be the plants that were deemed worthy of your touch. Yours was a curious friendship in that regard, because Izzy never seemed to know how much touch he wanted. You couldn’t say that you blamed him, given how touch starved the man’s life seemed to have been before this point. When he hugged you, he clung onto you like you might disappear from his grasp, might disappear forever if he didn’t treat you properly.

One of those kind of hugs was one you shared underneath the shade of a palm tree, away from prying eyes. He clung to you tightly, fiercely, communicating so many different emotions and words through touch. Through your touch you tried to say “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” You said those words out loud too just to make sure that your point was doubly heard, and Izzy only nestled closer to you as a result.

Dinner time came round swiftly but you were both still too full from earlier to even contemplate food, even though it sat quite nicely in your bellies. So you decided to implement your last plan of the day, as the sun began to set and cast wonderful colours across the sky. You walked Izzy to a small boating lake where people were happily rowing themselves around in little coracle like boats, each with a lantern at the centre. After paying for your own and receiving a lantern in return, you motioned for Izzy to get into the boat first. After that he took the lantern from you and offered his hand again to see you safely and securely into the boat. When he tried to take the oars you shook your head gently, beginning to paddle you both out into the twilight evening.

As you rowed, it gave you the perfect opportunity to look at Izzy longingly. He alternated between looking at you and looking out over the lake, occasionally picking up the lantern to look more closely at the water’s surface. Little fishes came up to meet the light and Izzy looked down at them with an interested expression, watching how their scales caught the light. He looked so at peace that it made your heart ache.

When he looked back over at you, every time his eyes were so full of fondness and softness that you wanted to weep. Izzy truly cared about you, you knew, and you would never take that for granted. He might even be one of the best people you knew, which was hard for your friends to understand. But there was just something about him, something that only you seemed to see.

He was a truly stunning person. And you hoped that Izzy knew that, in his own small way.

Eventually you rowed the pair of you to a secluded corner of the lake, surrounded by willow like trees. You pulled the oars into the boat and sighed happily, with Izzy giggling equally as happily at the sound.

“Thank you for today. You’ve treated me so well and I really appreciate it”, Izzy murmured genuinely, leaning forward a little.

You inclined your head a little, smiling.

“My pleasure, Iz. Thank you for allowing me to do all of this for you.”

Izzy looked down at his own hands and the rings that adorned them, the new shine to his boots from the boot polish you both tried out and bought.

“You’ve reminded me that I can have nice things.”

The man splayed his hands over his own chest and you felt your heart skip a beat when one of his fingers landed directly over the heart you knitted into his shirt.

“All of my thanks are with you. I’m still not used to being treated so nicely, but I appreciate it.”

You smile sincerely, also leaning forward a little, planting your feet more firmly against the bottom of the boat.

“You are a treasure, Iz. Worth every bad day and good day in this crazy life that we lead. And I want to remind you of that, always. I truly adore you.”

As the last word leaves your mouth, you realise that Izzy’s expression is even softer. A smidge of longing had crept in at the edges, lighting up his gorgeous eyes even more. Perhaps you realise how much you have said, even if you have said all of those things separately at different times. All together they practically sounded like a confession of love.

And perhaps that’s what this was, you realised. And perhaps that was just what Izzy wanted to hear.

As Izzy moved the lantern out of the way before taking your hands in his, you can feel your heart quivering with excitement. Even more so when he presses a kiss to the back of both of them whilst looking at you all the while.

“I adore you too. So much that sometimes it hurts to breathe.”

Izzy smiles self consciously and you giggle a little with delight.

“I know that confessing your feelings was not why you brought me out here, but I want to say this.”

The older man shook your joined hands, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

“If you would be willing, I would like to give the two of us a go. See what we can build together with this adoration we share for each other.”

Those words were the most magical words you had ever heard in your life. Izzy was looking at you so dreamily that you wanted to melt right into his arms all over again.

“I would love that, Izzy. More than anything.”

The grin that spread across Izzy’s lips was fantastic, as was the ecstatic laugh he let out as he brought your hands to his lips again. He pressed kiss after kiss to them, punctuating each and every one with an “I adore you.”

“I adore you, Izzy Hands”, you whispered as he finally ran out of steam, taking a moment to gain his breath back. He smiled at you almost giddily and you were sure that you looked equally love struck.

A moment of silence lingered before Izzy Hands looked down at your lips and oh it felt good to know just why Izzy had looked at your lips so many times in the past. Before you knew it you were leaning in and Izzy met you halfway, claiming your lips for his own. The first kiss was incredibly gentle and feather light, and it was only with the second one that you both wrapped your arms around each other.

The only thing that stopped you both from kissing and kissing until you ran out of breath was the fact that your excitement was rocking the boat slightly, and neither of you wanted to end up in the lake.

Izzy smiled at you like a lovestruck school boy and took the oars from the middle of the boat.

“I am going to row us back and then take us back to the ship where I can kiss you properly.”

You had no problem with that plan at all.

—-

Once back upon the ship, you both madly raced for Izzy’s quarters. When the door was locked and you were both sealed in, Izzy gently backed you up against the wall and started kissing you all over again. In those next few minutes you found that Izzy really enjoyed having his hair played with and you loved it when he placed a hand over your chest to feel your heartbeat.

Once the two of you had kissed each other senseless, you both admitted to the fact that you were worn out. Delightfully so, but worn out none the less. Today had been a busy but exciting day. Izzy offered you the chance to stay in his cabin and you jumped at the chance, only leaving for long enough to gather your wash things and a spare pair of clothes. You both washed and undressed to a level where you both felt comfortable and then Izzy took you to his bed, immediately laying his head down on your chest when you had laid down.

As you played with Izzy’s hair and listened to the sound of the man’s calm breathing, you think that this is the happiest you have been for a long, long while.

“Night, Iz”, you murmur as you close your eyes.

“Night, sweetheart”, you hear Izzy murmur as he too closes his eyes and smiles to himself.

#izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #izzy hands x male reader #izzy fucking hands #izzy hands our flag means death #izzy hands era #our flag means death #izzy hands

[thatmissquin]

I Wrote a very self indulgent piece about Izzy Hands.

I don’t know if i’ll write more but it exists. it’s more an female original character (who happens to be a s e x worker) rather than reader, but the tag inspired me to just do it so .... thanks?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39553671

#izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #israel hands #izzy hands x oc

[maximwtf]

 “What kind of a moron gets shot…”

Izzy x Reader

words: 1970

google docs pages: 3,5

warnings: blood, a gunshot wound, slight alcohol use

opening: A medic, you get shot in a crossfire. It’s only after things have settled a little that anyone has time to notice you. No one but you are used to removing bullets, so obviously the crew chose the next most experienced pirate to help you with your instructions. Izzy. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! I finally started watching this series, after putting it off for so long and oh my god do I love this man more than life itself. I would die for him. Anyway, sorry if this is a little ooc, I’m learning how to write for him ! Requests for him would also be lovely, I have so many ideas that I don’t even know what to write :D

 “What kind of a moron gets shot…”

The feeling of rain hitting your face kept you to your senses, additional moisture to the already wet wooden deck you were laying on. At least you had made it back, but that did not remove the fact that someone from the other ship had gotten a good shot at your thigh. For that reason, you didn't mind the wet fabric sticking to your skin. The waves of pain radiating from your thigh were enough to keep your mind from thinking of anything else. 

Your body curled up a little, hands going to hold the place of the wound on their own, or at least that’s what it had felt like. Like your body was moving on its own. There wasn’t much of a thought process happening in your mind, though it felt like you should have known what to do. You’d removed more than one bullet in your time, and it wasn’t a rare procedure to perform for you. But never could have you guessed the amount of pain a bullet wound caused. You’d only ever helped someone else and seen them try their best to stay still for your sake. As much as you had hoped these thoughts would have distracted you from the pain, they didn’t. The pain was still raging, making you groan and grunt silently against the deck. Or at least what you thought had been quietly up until voices became audible around you. They’d been there before as well, but they’d become somehow louder by now. Like the people that sounded further away were now closer. The crew must have noticed something was wrong.

You opened your eyes, still curled up on the deck. Most of the crew were there, standing near you. From your perspective and what was left of your vision, they seemed concerned. But probably rightly so. Most of them had become quiet, only light chatter among them. “Well, fucking someone help me.” You growled, allowing the words to come out and going back to gritting your teeth straight after. The chatter got louder for a moment before someone was pushed out from the group. By the sound of his voice, you identified him quite easily. The first mate of Blackbeard’s, Izzy. He did not sound keen on doing this, insisting for someone else to do it before accepting his fate. But you and mostly everyone else in the crew seemed to agree on him being the most experienced for this, after you. 

You knew their first idea would have been to just cut off the whole leg, but for the amount of times you’d helped them you were hoping they’d see this as owing it to you and actually helping.

Your vision was getting a little more blurry, not badly but enough to make things a lot more confusing. You tried to keep a straight head, knowing you’d have to assist Izzy while he got the bullet out. While these thoughts were running through your mind, two of the crew members of which you hadn’t seen who carried your form to the lower decks. No more of the rain, you thought. They cleared a table, and by the sound of it they must have just sweeped the items on it to the floor and placed you on the smooth surface instead. 

There was a moment of silence before through your haze you could hear Izzy’s voice clearly. “Well, fuck off? No need for an audience.” He said, and by the sound of it the people previously there made their way back up. “Cut the…the pant leg.” You said, not wanting to waste any more time. Izzy looked at you, doing as you said but with slight hesitation. “How does a medic manage to get shot?” The first man asked in a voice you wanted to believe was annoyance, trying not to find a hint of worry from his voice. You didn’t want to imagine a man worried for your life trying to save it. “Guess the bullets couldn’t resist a…a checkup.” You took a quick breath, gritting your teeth as the fabric was pulled off from over the wound. Izzy didn’t say anything to that, perhaps it had been a bad time to joke either way. You didn’t have time to waste, for anything from the bullet could leak to your bloodstream if you kept stalling. “T-take off yer belt-” You had to take a breather before continuing, but that was enough for Izzy to give you a dirty look, which you were glad you couldn’t see properly through the slight blur. “And wrap it a little higher from the wound…” You finished the sentence, trying to stay still on the table. “Gathered that much.” He said, voice still stern as he undid his belt and wrapped it tightly around your thigh. “Get yer knife…and dig..dig the bastard out.” You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment as you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

The sound of Izzy taking out a knife from his belt opened your eyes once more. You took a weak hold of his wrist before the first mate was able to start the process. “If I lose consciousness after…take the fabric you removed and..and use it to close up the wound after cleaning with rum…” You instructed him before your hand let loose from his wrist. His eyes were on you, you could feel it. Yet, he did not say a word. It worried you, but you didn’t want to tell him that. You wanted to think that he didn’t care. As many times as you had spent time with him, he did not care for you. Maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed talking to you from time to time. 

You took a hold of the edge of the table, which was worth it. Because as soon as Izzy had dug the knife into the wound you screeched. Using the palm of your hand to cover the rest of the horrendous noises leaving you, feeling hot tears push their way through and fall down the sides of your face. The gritting of your teeth helped, somewhat. The feeling of the blade hitting the bullet sent a mix of shivers along with waves of pain through your body.

You tolerated it for a while, in a way proud of yourself for that, this being the first time a bullet was being removed from you. Though, that did not last long.

The dim lights in the lower deck began to seem darker, and your body wasn’t contorting itself the same way as before. In a way you felt more relaxed this way, though the darkness that had started to slowly surround you was something you didn’t look forward to. A faint sound of the bullet hitting the wooden flooring as the knife left your body was the last thing you heard. Your consciousness faded away, leaving Izzy alone with bloodied hands and a mess on the table. 

His gaze shook a little, but he stood still at the table. Thanking whoever had left a bottle of rum in the lower deck. Izzy took a hold of the brown bottle and took a swig from it himself. With a second to think, he poured the liquid from the bottle straight onto the wound. It felt odd not to hear you instruct him, not that he needed it anymore. But you being so silent, seemingly dead to anyone else's eye who might have walked past, it shook him a little. As many people as he had killed and seen dead, none of them had affected him this way. The thoughts of your death filled his mind for a brief second, before the first mate shook them away. He wasn’t sure how much to pour, stopping eventually. He thought you might like the rest of it once you woke up. In his experience, rum was good at numbing feelings. Just what pain was, only a feeling. 

Izzy wrapped the wound best he could, leaving the belt on. You hadn’t told him what to do with it after, and that had only now occurred to him. As much as his duties would have commanded for him to leave you with the rest of the crew, he did not want for you to wake up in the noise and smell that was the crew’s quarters. Was what he told himself, not being able to ask for your opinion. 

He might have not been the tallest man on deck, but that did not mean he was weak in any way. He picked you up easily, carrying you to his quarters. Barely a spot for sleeping fit there, but he managed. 

The first mate laid your still form onto the small bed, seating himself onto a box next to it. His eyes stayed on the bed for some time before a sigh left his lungs, turning his eyes to his hands. He placed them over his face for a while, the burning feeling of tears trying to push through all too familiar at this point. They never truly fell down, so it did not count as crying for him. A pirate didn't cry.

So he sat there, the held-back tears reddening his eyes a little as he leaned on the wall behind him and stared at the other in front of him, keeping his gaze up. He felt conflicted, more so than usual. He hadn’t thought of you, not of how much he seemed to care. Sure, the two of you had spent an odd amount of time together, but you preferred to be alone or at least at the sidelines, so did he. So, for long it had been a coincidence that you bumped in together. And during those times you spent together were almost enough to make him feel alive again. But when you didn’t, was when he truly felt lonely. And so he did now, now when you were unconscious. A sharp breath drawn by you caught his attention back. The end of it started sounding more like a hiss than anything else. Your eyes tried to open slowly, but the sheering pain forced them to snap open with yet another hiss. You curled up on the bed before your eyes landed on Izzy. His mouth was slightly agape, but soon realised to hand you the bottle from earlier which you gladly accepted. After a long swig you handed it back to him, hand shaking ever so slightly. Eyes focusing on him now, vision back to what you remembered as normal. Even with Izzy keeping his gaze quite low, you could see the slight tint of red in his eyes. The first mate hadn’t said anything yet, so you decided to break the silence. “Have you been crying?” Came out rustier than intended, but the teasing tone of voice was still clear somewhere in there. Izzy’s jaw tightened, but he must have backed away from what he wanted to say. “Sod off.” He looked away for a moment, expression much softer after from what you could tell. Though, he seemed stiff. Like he was shaken in a way you’d never seen him before. “Izzy-” You sighed, not sure what to say to him, so instead you thought of something else. His other hand was resting on the edge of the bed. Expecting him to pull away at the very least, you placed your hand on his, but he didn’t. He allowed your slightly warmer, shaky palm to warm his colder hand, badly wiped away blood dried on it. “Thank you.” You said silently, not to disturb the oddly peaceful silence that had formed from the slightest of connections. Izzy turned to you, moving his hand further on the bed, not adding anything to that. The touch was a thank you enough, more than enough to him. 

#izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #israel hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd x reader #our flag means death x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #izzy hands beloved #yar har I love pirates

[bowieandqueen11]

Moonlight Dalliance / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago but I think I might have accidentally deleted it off Tumblr because I can’t find it now! Hope you enjoy and I’ll have another request out asap! 😘

Warning: spicy, implied sexual content, sword fighting, mentions of blood and some strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or it’s characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Before you had even reached the deck, you could hear the clashing of steel reverberating through your bunk.

If it hadn't been for the pouring of sawdust through the cracks in the ceiling beams that rained down like ash over your nostrils: if it hadn't been for the graceful leaps of careful footsteps lightly stepping in box squares above your hammock, you might have chalked down the noise to Roach's snoring. In fact, as you swing your legs over to your side and try, as quietly as possible, to land on the floor of the recreation room without waking as many as your ship mates as possible, said cook was trying to do his best impression of what could only be called a foghorn mixed with an incredibly rusty blender.

'For God's sake-!' The sound of Lucius' voice disturbing you as you were trying to tip toe towards the door almost makes you jump out of your skin. Unravelling Black Pete's arm from around his waist, he gives a final groan into the side of his pillow before throwing it in a wide arch straight at Roach's head. 'If you don't stop snoring I'll stick my wooden thumb, splinters and all, straight up your ar-.'

Thankfully, the sound of you wincing as you grab onto the handle and inch the hinges slowly backwards is drowned out by a stout HMPH as Lucius' pillow lands on Button's stomach. You can't help but let out a snicker at the way the man shoots straight up from his slumber like a scarecrow being raised in a field. He arches one eyebrow and glanced around intently. 'Attack, we're under attack!' You take the opportunity of your fellow crewmates either lunging out of their hammocks, or being tipped out onto the floor during the frantic hustle and bustle that followed to escape out to the helm of the ship. In fact, Wee John seemed to take far too much pleasure out of twirling the Swede's hammock so that the man ended up a mess of tangled limbs, yelping like a fly caught up in a spider's web as Oluwande tried to grab his arm and pull him back out. You didn't mind the good natured jostle of your friends: you had spent so much of the evening tossing and turning, unable to get the thought of one arrogant prick in particular out of your mind, and so the excuse to leave your bunk and get some fresh air was more than welcome.

The sea air - god, the sea air felt so kind on your tired lungs.

The night seemed fragile, the moonlight tender as it spilt over the creaking boards of the ship and pooled in a warm puddle around your feet. It seemed to widen within your eyes, a fine mist spraying like a wicked phantasm from its shadows and coating the surrounding sea in thin tendrils of smoke. With a mind hazed with tiredness, you rubbed at the corners of your eyes and tried to chase away that dream-like glow only the late night could bring. The sails caught in the mild wind and groaned above you, masking out the sounds of Izzy's short pants as he wiped his forehead with the untucked end of his shirt. In fact, not realising yet that you were standing only a mere few metres away from him, he grabbed his shoulder and tugged his shirt off completely, discarding it with a frustrated throw at Stede's cabin doors.

Two hands grip tighter on the wood, willing its body to relax. The tang of salt could do nothing to burn away the fizzling want banging against your ribcage, nor could the cool pinch of the helm railings distract you from the fact that you had spent every second of that day restless; as if on repeat, every time you closed your eyes, or had your thoughts distracted away from repairing the helm, or talking to Lucius, or exploring the islands Stede had insisted you all stop at so he could take Edward off on some grand adventure, you were taken back to that afternoon. The feel of Izzy Hands, the soft ache in his eyes, so desolate, so hopeful: when he had been congratulating you on a job well done fighting off some remote Englishman who had tried to ambush your crew once you had docked, and behind the thrum of his beating heart he hadn't the wit to stop his arm from reaching out and brushing the back of his knuckles against the droplets of blood splattered on your cheek.

His smile had dropped almost immediately of course, and he had run like a gun was being unloaded against his heels back into his quarters and hid there for the night, but the look in his eyes when he had touched you... god, if it wasn't enough to make Davy Jones repent his sins, for even his adoration for Calypso would seem like hatred in comparison.

Yet only the smoky gleam of the moon melting over the champagne waves kept your aching head company. The moon, being a sneaky temptress, was in fact the one thing that drew you to the cause of your distraction; squinting down onto the deck, it took you a minute to remember the reason you had come up here in the first place.

Izzy Hands. In the flesh. And lots of it, if the sweaty gleam of his bare chest was anything to go by.

It takes a moment for your mind to shape the shifting umbra into a perceptible form: he looks angry, furious, even, as his sword slices the misty air like swiss cheese and gives lashes to the main mast. The cherry wood cracks easily under the weight of his blows, the poor shaved shards that land by his feet obviously taking the brunt of the walloping you can only assume is meant for your captain.

Swallowing your nerves, you call out to the fickle shape. 'What are you doing wandering about at a time like this?'

He startles as you wander across the ship towards him, perching back against the side of the mast he was currently tearing to shreds. Incredulously, he looks you up and down before bowing his sword. Your laughter sweetens the edge of his blade, and for a moment Izzy's step falters at the sound.

‘I could ask you the very same thing. Don't you know that all the horrifying creatures slink out from the depths after the full moon rises.' He tilts his head at you, pushing his tongue up against his teeth to stop a smile from breaking like welcome dawn across his face. 'Would hate to see you get dragged away by something... wanton.'

You scratch your cheek, trying your best to hide how you were growing flustered at his words. 'Well, at least if I get dragged away I'll be going with clothes on.’

He flushed at that, head tilting down as he crossed his arms gruffly over his abdomen and blinked languidly.

'What are you actually still doing awake?', you ask, crossing your arms and doing your best not to fantasize about leaping forward and ripping the rest of his trousers straight off with one tear.

'I couldn't sleep.' What he didn't tell you, was that he couldn't sleep because he was so in love with you his heart felt like it was going to bleed out of his fucking chest any time he tried to distract himself from thoughts of you.

'Yeah, neither could I.' What you didn't tell him, was that you couldn't sleep because you were dreaming of grabbing Izzy by that scruffy collar and kissing him silly.

A tense silence suffocated the two of you, sliced only by Izzy shooting his sword through the air with one last precise carve through the freshly hollowed mast. Izzy whips out his wrist, clenching his fingers into a tight fist to try and alleviate some of the burning tension running through his joints at the desperation to touch you.

‘You did well today. As much as I hate to admit it, you can fight better than any of those other morons.’

‘A compliment? From Izzy Hands? Pinch me, I must still be dream-‘

‘Your footwork is a little rusty, though. Could use some work, so you don’t trip over and fall on your own bloody sword.’

‘There we go. There’s always a but with you, isn’t there? You can’t just give the compliment and leave it hanging.’

'I'm just saying... it would be a real shame to pierce such a breast.' Your breath hitches as his eyes dip down to contemplate the sliver of skin still on show between the free flowing buttons of your dress shirt. He sniffles, fingers almost indiscernibly tightening around the metal of the hilt as he did his best to stifle the overflowing shiver that was running up and down his legs. He keeps a tight watch on you for a moment, before biting his bottom lip with his top teeth and darting his eyes out towards the ocean, both incredibly aroused and also incredibly sheepish from having shown such weakness.

'And to ruin such a fine blade.'

He runs his hand across his beard, motion tired yet calculated. Too jolted to speak, let alone run away back down to your bunk and hide your head underneath Oluwande's arm for the rest of time, you leave Izzy the perfect opportunity to pounce.

’Here… come here’, his knuckles fold as he beckons you forward with one hand, his other still resting on the hilt of his rapier as he jabbed it into the floor and let it drop after a moment. If he had let it go just then, as he watched the swish of your hips approach him, he had a pretty good feeling his knees would buckle underneath him. ‘I have far more experience than you do. You ought to learn from a real pirate. Not the hoity toity arsehole that runs around this ship like a headless chicken.’

‘If I remember correctly’, you say sharply with a growing smile, ‘you lost against that headless chicken.’

‘Don’t.’ Before you have time to realise what’s happening, Izzy has grabbed you by the waist and rugged you back. He prays you didn’t hear the hoarse groan that jilted from the back of his throat as your buttocks bounced back against the tensed muscles of his lower abdomen. His voice is gruff and warm against the shell of your ear, but his fingertips burn with the ferociousness of a thousand lantern fires as he snakes his free hand around your shoulders and grips onto the bottom of your chin.

'Don't tease me. It won't end well for you.' His thumb digs into your jaw as he tilts your head back, and you can feel his smirk branding it’s way into the bare strip of skin between the nape or your neck and the hollow of your earlobe. Your head is fully resting back against his forehead now, and his vice on you only lessens once he’s content that you’re too far gone to step away from him.

'Put your foot... here', he guides your right foot forward with the toe of his boot, almost sinfully slowly so he could feel every twitch and tense of your quadriceps against the inside of his thigh. 'There you go, lean your weight forward-'.

He tips you then, doubling you over so your back is pushed down against his groin. You swear you can feel the curls of his hair fall in loose curls down against the small of your back, gathering that his head must be hovering just above your tailbone. For your own sake, to stop your legs from turning into jelly and letting your full weight fall so easily into Izzy's grip, you pretend the haunting moaning sound you hear must be from the hinges of the sails as they turn through the night sky.

'Perfect form', he breathes out in a short gasp against the shell of your ear once he's collected himself, his arm tightening around your stomach as he places you. His right hand drags down your arm, teasingly burning a trail right down over the back of your hand and onto your fingers as he entraps them with his own. He turns your hand, his own clenching so they fold over your own. 'That's it, now jut forward and strike.'

His knee pushes against the side of your buttocks as he jumps the two of you forward; he shoves a little too harshly, though, and just before your feet nearly trip backwards over the rotund exterior of a rogue barrel, Izzy's hand has shot out like a viper to latch its teeth around your wrist. His fingers squeeze as he tilts you upright again, a sharp exhale whistling out of his nose at how close you come to falling into his chest.

'You're not a bad teacher', you manage to laugh out between gasps, 'but unless you're packing... who doesn't bring a weapon to a sword fight?' Straddling to the side, you manage to slide down and grab onto his discarded sword, sweeping the tip through the air until it landed just below his chin. Tilting the skin up, you gaze down at him through dropped eyelids, his fingers now nearly convulsing against your wrist.

You manage to break free of his hold, grabbing onto his bare arm and pulling him so now he was the one caught in your trap. Your bicep holds around his stomach, moving with each tremble of his breath as you graze the sharp edge of his rapier down across his face and jut it under his jaw.

The bastard only smiles as you hold the edge of his blade against his throat.

'Did you really think you could win this fight?', he asks between the tight lips of a knowing smile, and it takes you a second to realise that his free hand has wrapped round to hold onto yours on top of the handle. He shoves the blade away, kicking out with his foot so you trip backwards. He easily catches you before you hit the ground.

You dance your fingers up his chest as he holds you tight against him, dipped down like lovers do during the first dance. All the stars burn deep within the depths of his soul, pouring out like razing destruction from his eyes as he keeps darting a path between your nose, and back down to your lips.

'I don't think you won this either, Izzy Hands. In fact, I think we both lost something here.' You spread your fingers out over the bare skin across his pec, feeling the flittering thud of his heart pound out against your fingertips.

By god, if he had ever been so delighted to lose.

His lips ravish you like a man shrivelled under the island sun, desperate to drown; before your gasp can fully deflate from your lungs, your legs have been kicked out from underneath you by a swift and skilled kick from the side of his boot.

Oh, he had been planning this for a long time. Had been thinking of nothing but this since he had boarded this vessel. The tightness of his arm as it snakes around your back and stops your shoulders from taking the brunt of the bounce off the boards: the way he throws his rapier behind his back without a second care, instead replacing his clenched fingers with the reddened meat of your hip as he levers you down was far too precise and meticulous to be a mere spur of the moment, subconscious thought.

An uncomfortable heat shivers over your torso and settles as an anchor weight in the pit of your stomach as Izzy grazes his right hand over the top of your thigh. Plop. Plop. Plop. His leather gloves ball as he taps his finger one by one, teasingly, against your inner thigh, using them to shove your legs wider apart. His lips pull away with a sickeningly sweet pop from your neck only for a second, as he breathlessly glances his eyes in a jagged path across your face.

He looks wonderstruck.

You can't help but reach out to touch the tough muscle of his left peck, swirling your finger across the short strands of his chest hair. The soft scrape of your fingernail soon turns into your fingers fully spreading out like the tendrils of a swift current once you feel him bury his head into the curve of your neck; his chin juts into your pulse point and the bastard has the audacity to whimper at the feel of your palm brushing over the hardened tip of his nipple.

If he wasn't living out all of his deepest, darkest dreams, the man nearly collapsed on top of you may have felt embarrassed at the way his pelvis began to buck down and brush the tightening leather over the rising line of skin underneath your belly button. In your turn to be bashful, you can feel a flush crawl over your cheeks as Izzy grabs onto the bottom of your thigh and tugs you closer, fist clenching over your ankle as he throws your right leg up and over the side of his hip bone. His hands are surprisingly soft, surprisingly gentle as he claws and kneads and mewls into you, his lips dragging down and over to the side of your jaw now with quick, tempered nicks.

You're scared his skin is going to melt off at the bone with how it burns against your hip: it holds tightly to the side of your pelvis, his thumb toying with the tassels hanging from the band of your trousers as he impetuously grinds down against you again. You can feel his shit eating smirk as the flat edge of his tongue licks a hot streak up to the shell of your ear; he bites down, tugging at your earlobe and clenching his fingernails so tightly into the soft skin at the side of your buttocks that you were amazed he didn't draw blood.

‘What on earth was that noise?! What’s going on up here! Which hooligan is up making a ruckus on my ship? And so late! I know you wanted another bedtime story, but I told you, we all need our beauty sleep!’

The glim flicker of a handheld candle illuminated out from the stairway as the ruffled hair of your captain peered out past the door like a startled meerkat. With wide eyes, he mustered the courage to lift up the skirts of his nightshirt and take a step out onto the deck, away from the safety of Ed's gentle snores as they billowed out through the crack.

Before your captain can spot the two of you caught in such an awkward position: Izzy grinding against you like a needy dog, your hand bunched into a tight fist in his hair and your legs wrapped tightly around his taut waist, he shoves a gloved finger to your lips. Annoyed at being disturbed, you tilt the hand gripping his hair backwards and smirk to yourself as Izzy dips his head down to land between your breast bone to try and hide his groans.

Before you can tease him anymore, he's gripped onto your wrist and is tugging you up; he's near carrying you bridle style in his arms as he slips past the railings of the ship, mingling in with the shadows. His hand covers your mouth to stop your giggles, carrying you off down to the bunk of his room so the two of you can carry on your midnight dalliance where your poor, confused captain wouldn't be able to hear the pounding of the bed as its frame shudders against the wall and your screams echo out against the silent moonlight.

#Ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands imagine #Izzy hands x reader #Con o’neill #ofmd imagine #israel hands #Israel hands imagine #Israel hands x reader #Our flag means death imagine

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Loyalty

Summary: Izzy Hands has always been loyal, always needed somewhere to place that loyalty, even the crew of the Revenge knew that and could respect it to some extent. Only...they didn't think it was possible for him to be more loyalty to somebody that wasn't Blackbeard. At least...until you come back.

Word Count: 8331

“First mate Hands! Three vessels approaching,” Buttons called from up on the quarterdeck. He didn’t turn to look for the first mate, or anyone else for that matter, he just stared out at the open ocean and the three specks in the distance that were approaching in a V formation.

“Fuck,” Izzy strode over to his side and pulled out his spyglass to get a good luck at the approaching fleet. Three vessels. Three of them. There was no way the Revenge and her crew could take them on, he hoped the winds were right to flee.

All worries of fleeing or fighting left Izzy, leaving him cold and in shock. The flags raised on the three ships were familiar, causing an aching in his chest. A distinct flag he never thought anyone would see again and, somehow, he knew that nobody else had come across the design and claimed it for themselves. Somehow, for some inexplicable reason, he just knew. The way Edward always knew how the weather would turn. He felt it in his goddamned bones, in his very being.

“Fuck…” Izzy’s curse came out weaker this time, breathier.

“Orders?” Buttons asked, not seeming perturbed in any way by Izzy’s reaction. Maybe he just didn’t notice. Izzy hoped he didn’t notice.

“Drop anchor, raise Blackbeard’s flag…and prepare to let them board,” Izzy ordered stiffly.

As if from nowhere, the fucking scribe appeared, always showing up at the worst times. “We’re letting them board?” he asked, both insubordinate and concerned. Where did the little shit even come from? “Shouldn’t we, like…be moving in the other direction, very fast?”

“Nobody fucking asked you,” Izzy snarled. “Just do as I said, I’ll deal with the captains,” he didn’t give them any time to argue with him, already leaving.

“You’re really going to do what he said?” Lucius asked, turning to Buttons. He could smack himself, looking to Buttons of all people for some sensible behaviour.

“Aye, they are the orders,” Buttons nodded. That was that.

“Oh my God, we’re going to die,” Lucius whispered to himself, frowning at the three dots in the distance.

-

Izzy knocked on the door to the captain’s cabin and waited for some muffled shout to be invited in. He already knew this was going to be tricky, so he entered as formally as he could, not looking to cause problems. Not this time. He closed the door and stood in front of the couch where the two captains sat.

“There is a fleet approaching, three ships, we’re preparing to let them board,” Izzy reported.

“Let them board?” Bonnet asked, eyes wide and curious.

“Why the fuck are we doing that?” Edward asked lowly, at least giving Izzy a chance to offer a reasonable explanation.

“It’s Captain L/n,” Izzy told him. Bonnet blinked, wondering if that should mean something to either of them.

Clearly, it meant something to Edward because he tensed a little, glaring at Izzy now. “...so you went above my head?”

“They aren’t here for a fight. We’ve raised Blackbeard’s flag, they’ll know who we are. They aren’t going to raid us,” Izzy reasoned.

“If they’re here, they’re here for us. It’s not a mistake,” Edward agreed with that at least. 

Izzy just nodded, letting Ed believe whatever he wanted to believe. Izzy already knew why you were here, there was only one thing you would come for.

“You know each other?” Stede asked.

Izzy felt the need to roll his eyes but hold himself back. “We used to sail together,” he answered instead before insisting, “they aren’t going to attack us.”

Edward huffed, throwing himself back in his seat. “Fine, whatever. Let us know when they’re preparing to board,” he dismissed the first mate.

“Aye, Captain,” Izzy nodded, taking his leave without complaint nor hesitation.

“Is everything alright?” Stede asked Edward carefully.

“The crew will be fine,” Edward promised, putting those worries to rest. “Haven’t seen L/n in years, they got into some trouble a while back and disappeared. Looks like they got themselves a fleet together, though…”

-

The largest ship in the fleet expertly pulled up along the side of the Revenge and dropped anchor. The crew of the Revenge watched, antsy and curious, as the other ship’s crew prepared the gangplank.

Edward and Stede had come up onto the deck to overwatch the crew and to greet the boarding crew. Izzy stood by Edward’s side, trying not to fidget or bounce his leg in anticipation.

On the deck of the other ship they could see the crew thrumming about, securing the ship, preparing. Izzy’s gaze wandered to the helm, heart skipping a beat when he saw the familiar figure speaking with a member of their crew.

Izzy could already feel the excitement bubbling in his chest.

Once the gangplank was secured, the other crew’s first mate and a gunner crossed over to the Revenge, introducing themselves curtly before glancing over their deck.

“Is Israel Hands here or are we wasting our time?” the first mate asked.

Immediately, the crew of the Revenge was looking at Izzy.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy muttered to himself. “They send you over as a threat?” he asked, unamused.

The first mate looked him up and down. “Yeah, you match the description,” they nodded. “The crew understands?”

“They’ll behave,” Izzy sighed.

The first mate nodded to the gunner, and the gunner returned to their ship. During the wait, Izzy could still feel the eyes on him, and could feel the unasked questions from the crew.

It must have been only a minute at most but, for Izzy, it felt like hours, before you were crossing over the gangplank. Hopping down onto the deck of the Revenge with practised grace.

“Too cowardly to board first?” Edward asked accusingly.

“Too busy to sit through small talk if Israel wasn’t here. I don’t like wasting my time,” you rolled your eyes, not rising to whatever fight he wanted.

Then, in an instant, all of your attention was focused on Izzy. He was older now, of course, as were you, but you would recognise him anywhere. He was looking at you the same way he used to, devoted and adoring, like you were the only other person standing on the crowded deck.

It was too much for him, seeing you, having you look at him like that.

You always could read Izzy well, you would consider yourself fluent in Israel Hands, and you could tell that he was practically shaking to hold himself back, to keep himself composed. You wouldn’t make him wait any longer, you weren’t cruel.

“Oh, Israel, I’ve missed you,” you strode over to him confidently, quick to wrap your arms around him.

Izzy returned the embrace like it was second nature, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, practically melting against you. You couldn’t help yourself, having to run a hand over his hair before forcing yourself to pull away and release him.

Well, you released him for the most part. Your hands remained against his upper arms. “I’ve been away for too long,” you observed but both of you were already well aware of that.

“Where have you been?” Izzy asked, the only thing he could think to say. You had been assumed…dead, disappearing without a trace. Yet here you stood, very much alive. Older than he last saw you but perfectly recognisable to his eye.

“You know about how the navy got a little too close, had to lay low for a while. Got a new crew together, started operating in different waters, took years for everything to cool down but once I got word, I sailed right over here,” you explained, not aiming to make him wait for such an important answer. “Sought out Jackie, of course, she knows everything. Found the Anne but you weren’t there, got into a boring conversation with the quartermaster. Wasn’t making the same mistake once I tracked down the Revenge.”

Izzy seemed to think your story over, trying to figure out whether you were telling the truth or not. You had never lied to him before but you understand that disappearing for years can damage somebody’s trust in you. If his trust in you had faded, you’d make sure to earn it back.

Izzy thought over the details, he supposed they made sense. There technically hadn’t been any proof of your death, just rumours, and the British had continued their search for you after your supposed death. You always had been clever, able to get out of difficult situations. And you were always careful, wouldn’t have risked the lives of your crew by returning too early to the Caribbean.

Izzy gave a slight nod, assuring you that he believed you. That he was glad you were back.

The sound of shifting beside you reminded you that you weren’t as alone as you would have liked to be.

“Alright. I suppose I should speak with the captains of this vessel,” you addressed it to Izzy, not anybody else. Like nobody else mattered.

“If you must,” Izzy mumbled, filling you with a feeling of fondness.

With a hand against Izzy’s back, you turned to the two captains, Izzy following your movements like it was just a natural thing for him to do.

“Sorry to invite myself over but I’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” you promised the two of them, only one of them familiar to you.

“Izzy makes it sound like you and he were friends and you know Edward…I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you stayed for a little while. Got reacquainted,” Bonnet, you assumed he was, offered.

You looked at Izzy questioningly. “He’s being serious,” he told you with a sigh.

“The Gentleman Pirate,” you nodded in understanding and Stede preened under the recognition. You considered it for a moment before nodding, “I can’t stay long, I have business to attend to, but it would be rude to turn down your offer.”

“Wonderful!” Stede clapped his hands together, though Edwarded looked decidedly less happy about it.

“I’ll let the crew know we’ll be anchored for a little longer than planned,” you announced before turning to Izzy. That’s when the crew really noticed it, the way your gaze locked in and softened as soon as it turned on to Izzy. “Israel, do you have a cabin?” you asked.

“Yes. I’m the first mate,” Izzy answered, as if it was obvious, but not with the irritation he would if one of the crew had asked such a stupid question.

“Good,” you nodded before shrugging, smiling at him. “Though you’ll be staying in my cabin, of course.” The way you said it wasn’t demanding, just as though it was a given.

The captains would sleep in their cabin, Jim and Olu would sleep in their room, Lucius would sleep between Pete and Fang, the crew would sleep under the stars, and Izzy would be staying with you in your cabin. That’s just the way things were.

Izzy just nodded, relaxing at the idea of being welcome in your cabin once again.

“First mate needs to stay aboard the ship,” Edward commanded. In all fairness, it was a fair demand to have.

“We’ll stay anchored, don’t you worry. I’ll even leave a couple crew members over here if it makes you feel better. But Israel will be staying with me,” you really didn’t think Edward was asking too much, just for some security that you would kidnap his first mate, but you made sure he knew that you weren’t asking him.

“Izzy,” Edward looked to his first mate then, expecting him to agree with him.

“I’ll be fine, Edward,” Izzy promised him.

Edward opened his mouth to argue but no words came out, he looked stunned. You decided that was enough of a confirmation for you. 

The crew just watched, feeling dumbfounded, as you spoke quietly against Izzy’s ear and guided him over the gangplank and onto your ship. Watched how your hand sat against his lower back, thumb stroking up and down against his leather waistcoat. Watched how easily Izzy let you lead him.

Once you crossed over to your ship, you quickly announced to the crew that you would be sticking around for a little while. Your crew just nodded, accepting the small change in plans, and starting preparing for their stay.

With your crew up to date and content, you led Izzy to your cabin. As soon as he was through the threshold and the door had clicked shut behind him, Izzy felt himself relaxing completely.

“I thought you were dead,” Izzy heard his voice before he even realised he was speaking. It was quiet and water.

“Oh, sweetie,” you were in front of him in an instant, his face cradled in your hands. “I won’t lie, it was a close call for a while, but I’m here and I’m perfectly fine. Better than ever, actually. Went from one ship to three…just one thing missing, the very thing I’ve been tracking down since I returned to the Caribbean.”

“And what’s that?” he asked quietly, desperately. He needed to hear it.

“Oh, please, you just like to hear me say it,” you accused fondly before your expression softened completely, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You, baby.”

Clearly, that was the right answer, because Izzy all but threw himself into your arms. Clinging to you.

“I’ve got you, sweet thing, and this time I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, carding fingers through his hair.

“You’ll have to leave, you have a fleet…responsibilities…” Izzy mumbled into your shoulder.

You paused for a moment, earning a displeased sound from the man in your arms. “It really has been a long time, I didn’t realise I had to ask,” you whispered, prying him off of you as gently as you could but you needed him to look you in the eyes for this. “I want you to come with me, Iz. Will you come with me? Will you come home?”

Izzy felt like he was floating, glowing. He felt warm. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” and everything about the way he looked at you told you that he meant it.

You smiled, kissing his temple before guiding him back into your embrace. It was good to have him back in his arms.

“Edward won’t be happy,” Izzy warned you. All he really wanted was to lock himself away with you, to lock the world out, but he couldn’t ignore the reality on the other side of your door.

“Nobody with a lick of common sense would be happy about losing you, baby, but we’ll handle it,” you promised.

“He won’t like that you’re poaching a member of his crew. Especially not his first mate,” Izzy was fretting, he always was so good at that.

You buried your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. “Let me handle it, sweetheart. Do you trust me to do that?”

“‘Course, I do,” Izzy almost sounded offended. Offended that you thought he wouldn’t trust you.

“I’ve got you. Edward never really did, he knows that,” you soothed him. There had always been an unspoken understanding. He could run around with Izzy trailing after him but he was only ever borrowing the man. No matter what, no matter what he did or what they became, Israel Hands was yours and always would be.

“I’m yours,” Izzy stated firmly.

“I know, Love. Just as I am yours.” Izzy hummed as you pulled back just enough to press a tender kiss to his lips.

You always did that, always insisted on it. You were his just as he was yours, you belonged to each other in any way you wanted too. His loyalty was always reciprocated by you.

When you pulled away from him again, you noticed that a few tears had slipped down his cheeks.

“Oh, love,” you cooed, brushing away the tears.

“Sorry,” Izzy apologised, feeling like he had somehow ruined the mood. A reunion was supposed to be a happy thing and he was happy, and yet here he was crying.

“Don’t apologise, it’s alright,” you tutted softly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Just…missed you,” he confessed.

“I missed you too, more than I ever realised possible.” In all honesty, you were a little surprised you haven't teared up yet. You supposed you had more time to process, having been searching for Izzy for so long, while Izzy only just realised you weren’t dead today.“Come on, let’s get you comfortable and maybe some tea,” you suggested.

“That sounds nice,” Izzy nodded softly.

“I’ll get you some comfortable clothes, I got you a few things,” you offered, unfortunately having to release Izzy completely.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he frowned a little, watching you move through your cabin.

“I just wanted to be prepared if you agreed to come with me,” you shrugged. As if buying Izzy some extra clothes was a big deal, you would do anything for him, this was nothing.

“‘Course I’d come with you,” he responded quickly, as if you might actually be doubting that.

“I know, love. It’s just been a long time, I suppose I had to prepare myself in case things had changed,” you admitted with a small sigh. Mostly, you had felt confident that you and Izzy would fall in together like anything had barely changed, because the two of you were just…right.

“They haven’t.” It wasn’t the complete truth. So much had changed between him and Edward since you first went your separate ways, things had changed in ways that he hadn’t even thought possible. A lot of that change began when they got word of your disappearance, Edward hadn’t liked how Izzy mourned then Ed’s dark moods started getting more frequent.

So much had changed, but not the way Izzy felt about you. That just wasn’t possible.

-

“No wonder Izzy’s been a miserable pain in the arse,” Lucius commented, sounding somewhat sympathetic for the prickly old man. Almost as if he had developed some new understanding, even if he had been a pain in his arse.

“What do you mean?” Pete asked with a little frown. 

In truth, the whole crew had been thrown by the recent events. The pirate captain who boarded their ship with grace and confidence, barely acknowledged Blackbeard and Stede before whisking Izzy Hands away without a single complaint from him.

“He’s been separated from the person he loves!” Lucius declared like it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing the attention of the rest of the crew that lingered on the deck.

“Oh…oh yeah, I can see that,” Pete nodded. He hadn’t really considered Izzy having some long lost love that made him the way he was but now that Lucius mentioned it, that did look like a sweet reunion, the restraint obvious on both sides. Then Pete frowned, suddenly feeling a little sad. “I couldn’t be apart from you for years, babe.”

“Aw, neither could I, babe,” Lucius lent into his side, kissing his cheek that plastered a grin on his face.

“Iz isn’t like that, don’t worry,” Edward scoffed, coming up behind the two of them, drawing more attention to their conversation.

Lucius only jumped a little at the sudden appearance before frowning in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Iz,” Edward shrugged, “he isn’t all sappy or whatever.”

“You’re kidding right?” Lucius just looked at the bearded man, certain that he was joking with him. He wasn’t. “Sure, clearly he shows it in a different way. He’s a devoted little fucker, but he’s very clearly sentimental. I’ve never seen him look so…relaxed and comfortable than when they hugged him.” He couldn’t truly believe that Edward couldn’t see that. Perhaps denial was more rampant in pirates than he first thought.

“They used to sail together, they were his superior for some time. He’s just loyal,” Edward shrugged again, though seemed a little less sure of his words this time.

“But…more loyal to them than he is to you…” Lucius observed, making Edward frown. “If that weren’t true, he wouldn’t have even left the ship, right?” he wasn’t sure why he was pushing the matter so much, maybe it was his own nosiness.

Clearly, Edward didn’t like what he had to say though because he was soon stomping off with Stede hurrying after him. Probably with a lot of questions about what just happened.

-

You couldn’t help but smile against the rim of your teacup. Already, Izzy looked more relaxed than he did when you first stepped aboard the Revenge. He sat on the other side of the couch, his feet propped up in your lap, shoulders drooping with tiredness, and his hair slightly mussed up from your attention as he sipped from his own cup.

A knock on the door had him tensing, though. You tried not to react too much, hoping he could fall back into that safe space the two of you had once created together a long time ago. You just dropped one hand down to his ankle as you called for the guest to let themselves in.

Your first mate stepped into your quarters. The whole time the two of you conversed about Captain Bonnet having apparently invited you and Izzy to dinner in their cabin, you rubbed soft circles against Izzy’s ankle. He managed to relax under your touch, not seeming to mind the extra set of eyes in the room then.

“Dinner?” you hummed, “what do you say?” 

Izzy was pondering over his answer before he even truly processed that you were asking him. Nobody asked his opinion about things these days, Edward used to of course but recently it was just whatever whim either he or Bonnet wanted to pursue.

“Sure, have to face them sometime,” Izzy muttered into his cup before drinking from it again.

You gave his ankle a small squeeze of reassurance before facing your first mate again. “Tell the captains we’ll be there,” you ordered. They nodded and left without another word, you were pretty sure they knew that you didn’t wish to be interrupted unless it was an emergency for a little while. They knew how much time and work and even coin in some cases you had put into tracking down your dear Israel Hands.

Once the door was shut, you gave Izzy a moment to be sure that your first mate was gone, before turning to him with a serious expression.

“Izzy, we don’t have to tell them that you plan to leave or anything yet. We’ll hang around for a few days so everything’s not so sudden, okay?” you assured him. “I thought we’d have at least until the morning before seeing them again, if I’m being honest,” that earnt a small blush from Izzy, “I’ll just follow your lead on the matter.”

“Thank you,” Izzy sighed, deflating against the arm of the couch. In the back of his mind he was vaguely grateful for the fact that you had tutted at him and shoved a cushion behind his back when he sat down.

“Anything for you, my darling,” you smiled, stroking your hand up and down his calf as you finished your tea.

-

You were right on time for your dinner with the captains of the Revenge, you didn’t want to be any ruder than necessary after all. Edward had his back up as soon as you stepped through the door and he noticed Izzy’s new clothes, clothes that he was certain Izzy didn’t own and yet seemed to fit him almost perfectly. 

Of course, you had to make some guesses about Izzy’s sizes when you bought the clothes but you could easily have them tailored to fit him perfectly, you were pretty pleased with yourself for getting it this close anyway. 

Stede had also seemed a little thrown off, blinking at Izzy’s new look. Honestly, it wasn’t a drastic difference. He had just switched his leather pants to black cotton for the sake of comfort and was wearing a deep blue shirt, he always had preferred to wear darker shades, under his waistcoat.

Stede shook it off quickly, politely welcoming you and inviting you both to sit at the table. Izzy sat by your side without any prompting, without even thinking about it really, while Edward and Stede sat opposite you both.

You were at least rather impressed with the meal their cook, Roach, had prepared for the four of you. It just about made up for the tension that lingered at the table.

“So, how do you know Edward and Izzy?” Stede asked, a clear attempt at making polite conversation. You could appreciate the effort.

“Used to sail together, long before Edward or I became captains,” you told him.

“They were on the first ship I joined,” Izzy added, making you smile a little. You hadn’t really expected him to tell any sort of story but you weren’t disappointed about it in the slightest. “They were a few years older than me.”

“Took my little dove under my wing,” you teased, tapping your knee against his under the table and making Izzy blush. You had wondered if he would fluster as easily as he used to, assumed that he wouldn’t, but you were definitely pleased to find it was just as easy as ever. “I became quartermaster shortly after Israel joined us and he was the smallest boy on the crew,” you recalled fondly.

“Fuck off,” Izzy muttered, “just ‘cause you had a growth spurt.”

You gave him another fond smile, one that was reserved purely for him, before looking at Stede again. “We sailed together for a good couple of years before Edward joined the crew.”

“Yeah, then we mutinied Hornigold,” Ed grinned, perking up at his chance to contribute.

“Me and some of the crew had already made plans to head out on our own, we all agreed I would captain,” you nodded, “Izzy and Eddie left with me at first, guess it was just easier that way. Once we raided a decent ship, Edward wanted to leave and captain his own crew, wanted to build a legend.”

“I knew he could do it and I wanted to help him achieve it,” Izzy smiled a little to himself.

“And they did it,” you grinned proudly at Izzy. You were honestly proud of both of them but Izzy had always been so dear to you, Edward knew you only had eyes for him.

“Legends are just that, though,” Izzy sighed, “then the legend gets bored of his own story.”

“Iz-” Edward’s expression dropped.

“No, Edward, it’s fine. Guess I got tired of it too,” Izzy confessed, poking at his food a little, “...around the time we caught word of Y/N’s disappearance.”

You couldn’t help yourself, feeling the overwhelming need to comfort him. You placed your hand on top of his.

“Knew something changed, wasn’t sure what it was,” Edward admitted with a small frown. He knew something had changed, could slap himself for not realising what it was.

“Guess I realised a legend doesn’t really mean anything. At that point it just assured our safety, other crews didn’t fight back, raids were less risky, and that was enough for me,” Izzy continued, letting you take hold of his hand properly, letting it ground and support him, “but it wasn’t enough for you and you got bored.”

Edward nodded his agreement, looking a little guilty about it. “Just became a trudge, y’know?”

Izzy agreed, he did know, he had seen it on Ed’s face day after day. Surviving had been enough for him at the time, still would be if your fleet hadn’t sailed towards them he imagined.

“Sorry, Iz,” Edward sounded genuinely apologetic, a heaviness lingered over their time together and all either of them could really do now was acknowledge it and offer condolences.

“Me too, Ed,” Izzy returned, as equally apologetic and guilty looking.

You were almost smiling, proud of them for being able to see things from each other’s perspective even if it was only just a little bit right now. Then Stede had to go and talk. “Well, I hope we can all agree that things worked out in the end,” he smiled and knew he meant well but…

Edward didn’t respond, just gave him a faint smile, while Izzy scowled and you blatantly ignored his comment.

The rest of dinner continued in mostly silence, Stede occasionally commenting on some side and how it was prepared or asking questions about your travels during the time of your ‘disappearance’. You had actually enjoyed the conversation until he said ‘that sounds marvellous! A real adventure!” Again, you knew he meant well, and he was right in a way, some of the things you did and saw could be described as marvellous, it wasn’t all misery once you pulled everything together, but it left a sour taste in your mouth.

It wasn’t long before it came to dessert, Roach bringing in a tray of different flavoured tarts. Roach received the compliments for his hard work before leaving the captain’s quarters.

Stede and Edward were quick to pick their favoured flavour, familiar with the cook’s pastries. You glanced over them, considering, before picking the one you thought you’d prefer.

Before you ate, though, you noticed Izzy frowning at the selection in that way he does. Not frowning because he was upset or displeased, more out of confusion and thought than anything.

“Here, you’ll like this one,” you picked up a lemon tart and placed it in front of him, “it’s lemon and the texture is more like cream than jam.” If Izzy’s preferences in sweets were anything like they used to be, you were certain he would prefer this tart.

Always trusting your advice, Izzy took a bite of the tart. Your heart fluttered at his little hum of approval. There was so much to learn about Izzy that was new, but it was comforting to be reassured that you still knew him well.

“Good?” you asked, casually.

“Good, thank you,” Izzy nodded, taking another bite of the dessert.

Stede watched the little interaction and felt familiarity pang in his chest, he could easily recall sharing new recipes and luxuries with Edward. He always assumed that Izzy couldn’t stand anything that wasn’t for the purpose of base survival, now he wondered if he just didn’t like him and the Revenge. Yeah, that seemed to make the most sense…

After eating, the captains of the Revenge asked you both to share a drink with them. Izzy had given you a small nod and you had accepted their invitation. Stede poured you each a port and chattered about his recent adventures with Blackbeard and his first mate. The exaggerated storytelling and rambling was enough to have Izzy’s patience wearing thin.

“You should check in with your crew,” Izzy suggested quietly when he saw the chance, a light lull in conversation. You took the hint, he wanted to leave and you wouldn’t deprive him of that. There were other places you would rather be as well.

“Good idea, hun,” you smiled, nothing but adoration in your expression, as you placed your empty glass down. “Always one step ahead,” you placed your hand on Izzy’s shoulder as you stood.

You said your polite goodbyes to the captains before heading for the door, Izzy right by your side, only holding back a few inches when you had to pull the door open.

“Izzy,” Edward’s voice brought you both to a halt, turning back to face him. “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked. It was obvious that he meant for good, not just for now.

“Ed…” Izzy sighed. He really had hoped this would wait until morning, to give him just a little more time with you before he had to deal with this.

Apparently that was enough of an answer for his captain, former captain? “After all these years?”

You glared a little, not liking that Edward was making Izzy feel bad but you let it go, not wanting to involve yourself unless you thought it truly necessary.

Some like hurt flashed across Izzy’s face, some old ache returning. “I thought they were dead, Edward. I thought that I left, and they died, and I would never see them again,” he told him with some slight panic. You moved closer instinctively at his distress, placing a hand against his back. “I can’t lose them again,” Izzy confessed plainly, voice rough.

Edward was about to speak but you got there first, needing Izzy to understand what you wanted from him. “You won’t lose me if you stay, Izzy. I hope that isn’t why you’re coming with me. You’ll always be mine.”

“I know,” Izzy looked at you with wide eyes, eager to correct you. “I want to come with you.” That was all you needed to hear.

“Izzy-” Edward tried again.

“Ed, if you can give up Blackbeard, I can give up First Mate Hands,” Izzy insisted. He couldn’t be sure that Edward was going to try to convince him to stay but he refused to risk it, couldn’t handle that right now. Today had been…a lot, and that was a wild understatement.

“We’ll stay for another couple of days, but we can’t stay any longer,” you told the captains. “But it’s late, we’ll discuss this further tomorrow if you wish,” the way you spoke assured them that there was no room for argument but that you would keep that promise. If they wanted to speak further on the matter, it would happen tomorrow, not tonight.

Izzy was tense as the two of you left the cabin but pressing into your touch the whole way across the deck and the gangplank. You didn’t speak until you were aboard your ship again.

“How are you feeling, love?”

Izzy actually took the time to consider it, to assess himself and try to put words to how he was feeling. He never was particularly good at that but you had always insisted on him trying his best. “Good…good, actually,” his answer was a little quiet, a little breathy, like he was surprised by his own answer.

“It’s okay if you’ll miss him, he’s been your best mate for years,” you told him.

“Just don’t want to hurt him,” Izzy confessed sincerely.

“He’s a grown man, he’ll manage. And you’ll see him again,” you wanted him to know that if he wanted to see Edward again, then of course he would be able to and you would make sure it happened.

“I’m not having second thoughts, I want you to know that,” Izzy’s glossy eyes focused on you again, his words firm, like you could ever doubt him.

“I know that, just making sure you’re alright, hun,” you promised, rubbing small circles against his back. “Now, should we go to bed?”

“Please,” Izzy let out a heavy breath like some weight had been lifted from him and he could finally breathe properly.

Without hesitation, you led Izzy back to your quarters where he could properly unwind and the two of you could get properly reacquainted without any further interruptions.

-

The next day you had made yourself comfortable over on the Revenge, not wanting to be too far away from Izzy as he continued on with his first mate duties. You couldn’t help but watch over the strange crew with amusement, they were certainly endearing but not the best sailors. You bet the whole thing was driving Izzy insane.

“Still have your midday coffee?” Izzy asked, bringing you out of your musings.

You turned to him with a smile, accepting the warm mug from him. “I do, I always get drowsy this time of day. Don’t have to sneak them anymore now, though,” you sipped the coffee, sighing, pleased, as you lowered the cup. “It’s around lunch, did you get yourself something?” you asked.

“Nah,” Izzy shrugged.

“Go and get something, even if it’s just an orange. If you don’t fancy anything down in the galley, my cook will whip something up for you. They love a challenge,” you insisted, your demand soft and made out of nothing but care.

“An orange is fine,” Izzy rolled his eyes, “I’ll get you one too.”

Before you could huff and insist that he doesn’t need to fetch you things, he was already gone. You shook your head in slight exasperation but smiled fondly as you sipped at your coffee, made just the way you like it. It seems that he had remembered some things as well.

“He makes quite the little errand boy, huh?” a younger man came up to your side.

You instantly went tense, expression darkening as you turned to him and lowered your mug. “You’re Spriggs, the scribe?” you squinted at him.

“Izzy talked about me?” Lucius asked, preening somewhat.

“He’s mentioned you,” you nodded, letting him bask in the satisfaction before stepping up to him. “One more word about him and I’ll slice your dick like an onion.”

In an instant, Lucius froze and stared at you with wide eyes. “Why an onion?” he was already cursing himself for asking a stupid question instead of fleeing. He didn’t know you well but he had a feeling that you would follow through on the threat.

“Would you rather I cut it into neat little segments like an orange?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Uh…no?” Lucius answered carefully, unsure if you even wanted an answer.

“Go,” you rolled your eyes as he scampered off.

Izzy returned shortly after with two peeled oranges. “Why did the scribe look like he was about to hurl?” he asked, only a little accusingly.

“Dunno,” you shrugged innocently, accepting one of the oranges.

Izzy hummed, standing by your side, close enough that your arms brushed against each other’s. “You threaten him?” 

“Maybe…”

“...dick onion again?”

“It’s effective,” you smirked to yourself, “nobody says a bad word about you if I have anything to do about it.”

Izzy huffed but you caught the way his cheek turned a light pink. “Don’t need protecting.”

“Of course you don’t, you’re a fucking vision with a blade. But I like taking care of you…and maybe I like threatening people just a little, but mostly taking care of you,” you teased, leaning your shoulder against his. “I’m always going to have your back, Izzy, my love,” you kissed his cheek.

Izzy sighed but was unable to suppress a little smile. He’ll forgive himself, he didn’t think anyone saw it.

-

It was just like Izzy to insist on doing his job until he had officially left The Revenge and joined your crew. You didn’t mind though, patiently waiting for him to finish his nightly rounds.

The rest of the crew was sitting around with some drink and telling stories, they had pestered you to join them and you didn’t see the harm in it. You accepted the bottle of rum they handed you but mostly just held it in your lap as you listened to their tales.

Izzy finished up his rounds, as satisfied with the condition of the ship as he could be. He glanced around the deck to see where you were waiting for him and saw you sitting with the crew. Suddenly, he felt unsure if he should interrupt but there was a little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that it was you, and there was no such thing as interrupting when it came to the two of you.

“Finished my rounds,” Izzy announced as he came up to the group, getting your attention.

Immediately, you turned your attention to him with a smile. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the time to respond before the others were speaking.

“Join us, Izzy,” Lucius encouraged. You looked him up and down but saw that he was being sincere, so you didn’t comment on it.

“Yeah, they just told us all about the Hornigold mutiny. Totally badass,” Pete grinned, hooked on the stories you had to tell.

Izzy frowned at the group, all looking at him with varying levels of eagerness but all seeming pretty welcoming, before looking to you. “Are they mocking?” he asked with a small snarl.

“No, darling. They just enjoyed the story,” you assured him, smiling even when your heart ached. “Do you want to sit or do you want to go back to our cabin?”

Truthfully, Izzy didn’t want to spend time with the rest of the crew but he didn’t want to ruin your fun either…

So, he just sat beside you in response.

You smiled and shifted closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. “This guy is fascinating,” you told him, gesturing to the Swede, who preened and blushed under your comment.

“Really?” Izzy asked, unamused.

“The stories he has are insane. Don’t know how many of them I believe but entertaining nonetheless,” you insisted, “born under blood rain, now that’s a great start to a story.”

Izzy rolled his eyes but he had to admit that was a tale he and Ed might have tried to sell under the legend of Blackbeard.

“Drink?” you offered your bottle to him.

“No, thanks.” 

You nodded, placing the rum bottle beside your feet.

The crew quickly fell back into their dramatic stories, trying to one up each other in entertainment.

Once you were certain that the crew was distracted enough, you lent into Izzy and spoke low against his ear so only he could hear you.

“We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you could sense he wasn’t exactly comfortable, you didn’t have to know him that well to realise that, and you didn’t want him to force himself to do anything.

“It’s fine,” Izzy mumbled back.

That just confirmed to you that you were right.

“Come on, let’s turn in for the night,” you patted his knee, shifting to stand.

“No,” he clasped your hand tightly, stopping you from standing, looking a little worried when you met his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” you squeezed his hand comfortingly, making sure to stay quiet and now draw anyone’s attention.

“Nothing, it’s fine. We can stay.” Izzy couldn’t quite hold your gaze and you made up your mind.

“Well, it was good sitting with you guys but I really should go check on my crew,” you declared as you stood from your seat, gently tugging Izzy to his feet again. Despite his halfhearted protests a second ago, he followed without argument.

The crew wished you a goodnight and didn’t try to stop you when you left, returning to your ship with Izzy in tow.

You greeted your own crew and bid them all a goodnight before disappearing into your quarters.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Izzy complained as soon as the cabin door was shut. “You could have stayed if you wanted too.”

You nearly rolled your eyes. Of course you could have stayed if you wanted too, just as he could have stayed without you if he wanted, or asked to return to the ship if he wanted. You didn’t roll your eyes though, understanding that this was stemming from something deeper.

“All I want is to be with you, my dove,” you promised him, taking his hands in yours. “I’ve spent enough time drinking and telling tales and I haven’t spent nearly enough time in your company.”

“You sure?” How could the infamous Izzy Hands, best sword in the Caribbean, look so vulnerable and unsure? His eyes just gave everything away.

“I’m completely certain,” you answered firmly but with an underlying tenderness.“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want or aren’t comfortable with,” you quickly kissed the tip of his nose.

Izzy flushed and grumbled a little but you still saw the way he smiled to himself. “Are we still leaving tomorrow?” he asked.

“We are. If you’re still okay with that,” you nodded.

“I am.”

You smiled softly, placing a hand on the back of Izzy’s neck and touching his forehead to yours. “Good. I was thinking we could have breakfast with Ed and Stede in the morning, say goodbye properly before heading out. It’s your choice,” you suggested.

Izzy hummed in thought before nodding slightly, leaning into you some more. “...we can have breakfast.”

-

You had decided to host breakfast in your quarters, figuring it would be the polite thing to do, where Izzy’s belongings had already been put away neatly, like they had been there all along. You couldn’t wait for the cabin to properly look like it was lived in by Izzy.

After breakfast, which went surprisingly well, you and Izzy walked Edward and Stede to the gangplank. “It really was good seeing you again, Edward,” and you really did mean it, you had been friends once upon a time. “No hard feelings, right?”

Edward looked at Izzy and saw the way the tension in his shoulders was less than he could ever remember seeing. “Yeah, no hard feelings,” he nodded, a little hesitantly.

You smiled, glad. You really hadn’t come to cause trouble, just to get your Israel back.

“And it was fascinating to meet you, Captain Bonnet,” you hadn’t fully decided if that was a compliment or not. Izzy did seem fond of him and that had clouded your judgement, you could admit that. 

“Likewise,” Stede grinned, “feel free to visit anytime.”

“See you around, Iz,” Edward nodded to his former first mate and long term friend, a weight to his words.

“See ya, Edward,” Izzy nodded back, just as heavy.

Edward and Stede returned to the Revenge and your crew took down the gangplank.

“Ready, love?” you asked, touching your hand to Izzy’s elbow.

“Ready,” Izzy nodded, sounding sure of himself.

You shouted for the crew to raise anchor and set on the course you had previously given them. The crew called back their acknowledgements and got to work.

You smiled at your bustling crew before leaning against Izzy, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Welcome home, my dove.”

“Don’t think that petname really fits me anymore,” Izzy grunted, making you chuckle.

“Nonsense. You’ll always be my dove,” you tutted. Izzy sighed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, honestly enjoying watching a competent crew working again. “We’re heading to port, going to give the crew some extra coin and shoreleave for a job well done. Think they can manage sailing straight for a few days,” you hummed.

Izzy looked around the deck, seeing your crew bustling and busy, talking between themselves as they worked diligently. “Look like they have it handled,” he agreed.

Your hand settled against his lower back as the two of you returned to your quarters. Once inside, you shrugged off your coat and folded it neatly over the back of a chair. The cabin had already been cleaned up from your breakfast meeting.

“Can I ask a question?”

You frowned a little as you turned to Izzy, hoping he was only asking such a question as a formality. “Of course,” you nodded.

“What is my position among the crew?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You already have a first mate and I don’t like the title of ‘bed warmer’.”

You were taken aback by his words, as if you would ever refer to him as such or allow anyone else to do so. “Izzy, you don’t think…that’s not how the crew sees you, I promise. You’re a respected pirate, a respected member of the crew. When I told the crew just who we were looking for, they were excited to have Israel Hands on the crew.”

“I would just like to know my position,” he sighed, still as stubborn as ever.

“I suppose I didn’t really think about it, was too focused on just getting you back,” you admitted. “I would offer you the position of first mate but…well, mine is very loyal and put a lot of work into helping me track you down. It would be wrong to demote them. But you’re far too qualified for a lower rank,” you thought out loud before your face lit up, an idea coming to you. “How do you fancy being co-captains?”

“Co-captain?” Izzy gaped at you. “You’re joking?”

“If Blackbeard can do it, so can I,” you shrugged.

“Co-captains, a fucking stupid thing,” Izzy muttered. He really wasn’t ready to be taking ideas or suggestions from Stede fucking Bonnet. “Could just be…could just be your partner…”

“Partner, captain. Whatever you want. Either way, you’ll be respected and listened to aboard this vessel. You have my word,” you vowed.

“I believe you.” He always did, you never gave him a reason not to.

You met him where he stood, snaking your arms around him. “I can’t believe I have you back.”

“I can’t believe you’re back,” he breathed, settling his hands on you, just needing to touch and feel. Still needing to remind himself that you were alive, you were here, and you were real.

“Never going anywhere without you again,” you promised. “Will have to fucking kill me,” your dedication sent a shive down Izzy’s spine. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” It felt like a prayer falling from Izzy’s lips. How long had he longed to hear you say those words again, to be able to speak those words again?

“Thank you for keeping this,” you whispered against his lips, toying with the ring on his necktie.

“As if I’d ever stop wearing it,” Izzy had never even considered it, had only taken it off of his finger before it began to feel heavy on his hand. It was too easy for him to see, to remind him. So he moved it to his neck, wanting everyone to know that somebody had gifted him such a ring once, cherishing it, while clad in black in mourning.

Izzy didn’t need to mourn any longer because you were here, holding him and kissing him. He would have to put his ring back on his finger.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #our flag means death izzy #ofmd x reader

[caitlinsnicket]

izzy hands sfw headcanons part 1

a/n: i was gonna make one post with all the headcanons, then i was gonna split nsfw from sfw, and now i had to split the sfw because it's too big. part 2 here. part 3 here. im losing it

repressed little angry man with his repressed little feelings

his loyalty is yours. privately, yes, but yours. he'd put himself between anything and anyone for you

he carves wooden things for you, sea animals, boats and anything else you mention you like. he might give it to you directly or just leave it in your things

when you thank him, he either calls you twat and tells you to fuck off or just nods his head with a little smile on his face

if you ask him to, he'll sing for you, and blush while doing it

it also becomes a habit between the two of you to sing together in the privacy of his cabin, slowdancing with the melody

he also sings sometimes to wake you up because he knows you like his raspy voice

fuuuuuuck his raspy voice. gets raspier in the mornings, and it never fails to make your knees buckle. because he knows that, it's not unusual for him to sneak behind you to whisper nonsense in your ear

praises you for anything you do, even things unrelated to piracy. you make a good knot? "that's very good". you manage to cook a half decent egg? "it's perfect, love". you style his hair in a different way for fun? "i've never looked so good. that's all you, dear"

he starts wearing fingerless gloves to feel your skin against his at all times

physical touch is mandatory and something he craves constantly, specially when you're in his line of sight

sometimes you think he's purring when you give him any kind of physical affection, but that's only a theory that you keep private

his pda evolves around kissing your hand while being flirty

big attatchment issues. as in he'll freak out a little if he doesn't know where you are

he's always worrying about you, in what he believes is a subtle manner. in front of the crew, he pretends he's going to chastise you in private, when in reality he's just asking you if you need anything or if you're tired

likes to boss you around for funsies, but if you'd rather sit still and look pretty for him, he's happy to ignore the rest of the crew's protests at your special treatment

likes to teach you things around the ship just to be close to you and feel pride at how fast you're learning (praise him for being a good teacher, you might make him blush).

might slap you in the ass if you do a good job and no one is around to tease him

he's always baffled by how much you want him, and not just in the physical sense. when he sees how much you're working for the relationship to function, how much effort you put into making him happy, he's at a loss of words

he's worried that you were going to be put-off by his violence, but when you welcome it as just another lovable part of him, he knows you're the one

if you use violence for him (to protect or defend), he'll have to use every fiber of his being to hold back tears. having people care for him is a new experience, and it becomes overwhelming

he's incredibly funny when he wants to, and not just when he's bitching about the crew. just funny

will do anything to make you smile or laugh at him. it's not uncommon to see him joining in on the crew's shenanigans just to see you happy

when he's sad he'll go quiet, sad puppy eyes looking defeated, and it's very likely he'll lash out on the crew

he cries a lot, violently, his sobs go through his whole body and he shakes so much you thought he had a cold the first time it happened

when you wipe away his tears and just hold him close, he almost believes he deserves to be loved

he fusses a lot when you try to comfort him, wiggling away from your grasp and telling you to fuck off, before melting into you and breaking down in your arms

it's very difficult for him to accept these kinds of things, so praise him while you're at it, give him positive reinforcement and he'll get used to the comfort you provide him

his smiles light up the world, but you can't tell him that otherwise he'll hold himself back. unless you're both alone, in his cabin, huddled together and he smiles at you, you trace the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and just whisper "you're fucking beautiful", he'll blush and bury his face on your hands, a low rumble on his chest

#imagine #headcanons #our flag means death #our flag means death fanfiction #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd x reader #our flag means death x reader #izzy hands #israel hands #izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #izzy hands imagine #israel hands imagine

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

I see you're taking requests for reader/Izzy

I really like this headcanon that Izzy loves to watch the stars when he's alone and I've never really seen anyone write about it? He could teach the reader about the stars/constellations or something.

That and like... I love the idea of him being gentle with the reader with touches or kisses or smth just-- he touches the reader as if they might break :') idk if you can come up with something with this mess of an ask but yeah thank youuuuu <3

This is a shorter one <3

Masterlist

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Izzy’s absence during Stede’s story time was no surprise, but you made a mental note to tease him about it later. Instead, you found yourself nestled between Lucius and Wee John, listening intently to Stede’s tale of a young French girl yearning to go to the prince’s ball. Your head rested against Lucius’s shoulder as he boasted about how he would effortlessly catch the prince’s eye if he were part of the story. Frenchie chimed in, expressing his disdain for hoity-toity balls for rich people. 

Despite the interruptions, the crew members remained engrossed in Stede’s storytelling, a nightly ritual cherished by all except Izzy. Only when you dragged him over did he reluctantly join, grumbling until you settled snugly between his legs, your back against his chest. Then, he seemed content, holding you close, even if it meant enduring Stede’s tales for an hour. 

After the stories concluded and the crew dispersed to their sleeping quarters, you searched for Izzy, only to find him missing from his bedroom. Heading back to the deck, you were greeted by the serene night, the moon and stars casting their glow on the calm waters surrounding the ship. Eventually, you found Izzy near the stern, sitting on the poop deck, gazing at the starry sky. His silver hair shimmered in the moonlight, and you couldn’t help but admire how peaceful he looked. As his eyes met yours, you realized he had sensed your gaze. You tilted your head to the side playfully, knowing he would catch on to your silent admission of missing his presence tonight. 

A cocky grin spread across his face as he studied you, a familiar gesture he often did when it was just the two of you. “Did you miss me?” he purred softly, the tone in his voice sending a familiar chill up your spine. 

“Fuck off,” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance. Yet, a small smile, curling up at the corners of your lips, betrayed your true feelings. 

“Oh, I see, you’re pissed at me?” he teased before gazing back up towards the night sky. You made a show of going to turn before his voice stopped you. “Get the fuck over here. Stop being a twat.” 

You pretended to pout at his command, but quickly complied, sliding between his two legs where he sat, nestling your back against his chest. It was exactly where you wanted to be, safe in Izzy’s arms. He enveloped you with his arms, drawing you closer, and lightly brushed his lips against your neck. Your body trembled at his touch, feeling your heart racing in your chest. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered in your ear, planting soft kisses along your neck. Although you were never truly upset with him, you melted at his touch, wondering whether you could ever be angry towards Izzy if this was his solution. 

Leaning his head back against the ship, he once again gazed at the stars, and you rested your head on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of each breath. 

“What were you up to tonight, Iz?” you whispered, brushing your fingers lightly against the back of his hand. He responded to your touch by flipping his hand palm up, allowing you to easily intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Story time is when those twats finally shut the fuck up, so I take advantage of that time to just look at the stars,” he replied softly, speaking in a manner he often reserved only for you. 

Warmth radiated through your chest upon learning something new about Izzy. It had taken a long time for him to start being vulnerable with you, and you felt privileged every time he shared something new about himself. 

“Teach me,” you requested.

With a gentle touch, Izzy guided your hand towards the vast expanse of the night sky. “Here, look,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. His finger traced a familiar pattern among the stars, forming the outline of a bear. “That is Ursa Major. The Great Bear,” he explained, his whisper tickling your ear. 

You settled your head back on Izzy’s chest once he had pointed out the constellation, gazing at the stars he had indicated, as a wave of peace rushed over you. You felt Izzy’s fingers begin to trace up and down your arms as you both continued to gaze towards the sky. After a while, his fingers wrapped around your side, and he ran his thumb up and down your ribs. You couldn’t help but let out a long sigh at his touch, eliciting a low chuckle from Izzy that reverberated through the air. You felt your eyelids begin to grow heavy as time continued to pass in Izzy’s arms. 

“The Great Bear looks like a ladle,” you mumbled before sleep began to claim you. Izzy chuckled softly before planting a warm kiss on your head. “I’m going to call it Roach’s ladle.” 

Next thing you knew, Izzy’s arms had wrapped around your legs, lifting you up to carry you. You nuzzled your head into his chest, gazing up at him, before whispering, “I want you to tell me about all of the stars, Izzy.” 

“I promise,” Izzy whispered back, a warm, gentle smile gracing his face. 

You thought the stars in the sky were beautiful, but nothing in the universe could compare to Israel Hand’s smile. You would do anything in your power to see it as often as you could.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd x reader #ofmd fanfic #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #Israel Hands x reader

[our-death-means-flag]

Iz Hands x a reader with sensory issues. Mostly with voice though, not much with texture and other things. Reader is a good fighter and shit, much like Blackbeard, but just can't stand the constant yelling and noise. I just feel like it'd be interesting to explore that. Izzy noticing reader flinching or covering their ears when he yells and feeling bad. He wants to help but doesn't know how. Maybe they talk and Izzy realizes how much the noise effects them and is sort of like "How the fuck did you captain a ship before then" but later tries to make them or get the crew to make them something to block out noise. Sort of the 1700s equivalent to noise cancelling headphones.

Quiet

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader (implied romantic but vague enough to be platonic) Notes: You’re a well known pirate and friend of Ed’s, eager to be along for the ride with this strange new world of his. You're skilled enough that when you suddenly react strangely to Izzy yelling at you. He decides to investigate and then help. Warnings: some descriptions of sensory overload, Izzy being bad at comfort (he’s trying)

Honesty, you’d been doomed to this fate the moment you were on a ship with Izzy yells-as-a-hobby Hands.  The only reason it hadn’t happened already was purely luck. But your luck could only last so long.  

You’d had sensitive hearing your whole life. In all honesty, it was an asset as much as it was a hindrance. After all, no one had  been able to sneak up on you. But most times it was a problem. You never knew why but occasionally sound just became unbearable.  Voices in particular. Sometimes hearing someone yell felt like taking a point blank cannon blast to the head.  Usually you could pretend that none of it bothered you. You had developed an art to hiding your flinches and holding back your reactions during your long and successful pirating career. 

But you couldn’t always manage that.  And currently, you were having an incredibly hard time.

It probably wasn’t actually Izzy that pushed you over the edge. Well, at least not only Izzy. The crew’d had a party the night before to celebrate a really good raid. That alone was a lot. 

And now Izzy was yelling as usual. Your brain was so busy screaming about how loud it was you actually had no idea what he was actually complaining about. Each syllable grated on your mind. You were as tense as a bowstring trying incredibly hard to focus on anything but the sound to no avail. Your hands almost trembled so you let go of the rigging you were trying to redo to try and calm the shaking. 

Everything was so damn loud.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus. No dice. You had to get out of here. 

Loud…

Maybe you could make up a reason? Maybe you could say you were hungover from last night's party? Or maybe you just weren’t feeling well? Though, both of those excuses were liable to get you yelled at by Izzy Hands for slacking off… Shit.

Loud.

Maybe you could escape to the stores? When had anyone done inventory last? Or you could climb up to the crows nest? That might be quieter? Maybe-

If you were not as overwhelmed as you were, you would have definitely heard someone getting closer but now, you only realized when a hand grabbed your arm and spun you around. The suddenness of the action did not help your racing mind. Neither did the fact that Izzy Fucking Hands was currently yelling in your face. Your long suffering composure finally broke and you flinched back, clasping your hands over your ears and pulling away. You felt your back hit the railing and your shoulders shaking from gasping. 

Quiet.

Everything was suddenly quiet.

More so than it would be if you had properly covered your ears. Something was up. You peeked your eyes open and saw the whole crew staring at you, dead quiet. Even Izzy, shockingly, had backed up, looking confused at you.

Shit.

“I-” You managed. “Uh.” You fumbled for words, hands still clasped over your ears. “I’m gonna just go… Yeah.” While everyone was still stunned you booked it, pulling one hand off one of your ears just long enough to open a door and disappear below decks, found a quiet corner and curled up in it. You tried to steady your breathing, hands still covering your ears.

Slowly but surely your mind calmed down. You kept your hands where they were but you were feeling a little less like your head was being ripped in half and your brain finally managed to reboot. You groaned. It had been ages since the last time you slipped up this badly in front of people. At least that time you'd been able to write it off as a symptom of blood loss on account of the hole in your side.  This time? This time, you had no excuse. (Maybe you could go with the ‘pretend to be hungover’ plan and just deal with Izzy’s lecture later…)

Izzy wasn’t able to sneak up on you this time since you weren’t completely out of it. The moment the storeroom door opened you looked over. The moment you noticed him you dropped one of your hands into your lap, trying to play it off like you were leaning your head on the other one. “What do you want?” You tried to imbue your voice with some ‘I’m the captain and you have to listen to me’ energy you usually managed to have but not this time. Your voice came as an exhausted whisper.

Izzy looked very odd, lingering at the door like a nervous shadow. “I-” He started at a slightly louder than speaking noise and you jumped ( your body having apparently completely given up on the fight to stay unnoticed). “I’m sorry… I think.” He finished in a stage whisper.

You raised a brow, both from the strangeness of Izzy being so considerate and the strange phrasing. “You think you’re sorry?” You echoed.

“The boy, Spriggs, said I should apologize.” Izzy elaborated. “Though I’m not sure what for.” A pause. Izzy glanced around and gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your confusion only intensified. This was very odd for him. Sure the apology was stilted and awkward but it seemed genuine. Izzy Hands genuinely apologizing to you… You never thought you’d see the day… He visibly fumbled for more words so you decided to put him out of his misery. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Look, I’ll tell everyone that you apologized and everything’s all fine. You don't have to do this. I officially accept your not-really-apology for whatever you said.” You commented, chuckling weakly. “You’re free to ditch me.”

“You don’t know what I said?” Izzy looked genuinely baffled.

You shook your head, pulling both hands away from your ears and letting them fall into your lap. “Not a clue. I couldn’t hear you.”

Izzy tilted his head. The gesture looked so odd on him. “Is there something wrong with your ears? Should I get the doctor?”

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong… Well, if there is something wrong it’s been like that my whole life…” Izzy only looked more confused. You considered for a moment. Eh, fuck it. Might as well… “It’s just a thing that happens with me. Sometimes sounds are just…” You motioned vaguely with your hands. “Too loud. Just the yelling and all the noise makes it hard to think.”

“You can’t handle noise?” Izzy asked, still looking disbelieving. You nodded. “Then how the fuck did you captain a ship?” He was clearly still making an attempt to be quiet so his words came out as more of a hiss than a yell.

You shrugged. “I got good at pretending it didn’t bother me. When I was a captain, I could stay in my cabin and avoid most of the noise. Can’t exactly do that anymore, can I?”

“Pretending? So it always bothers you?” 

You nodded. “Yup. Sometimes it’s just too much. With yesterday’s raid and the party… I guess it was a bit much for me. Everything was just too loud. Pretty pathetic huh?” You laughed lightly at yourself. Of course Izzy was going to have a fit over you ditching work for something so stupid.

“Impressive actually.” Izzy stated bluntly 

You did a double take. “What?” If it was supposed to be sarcastic then it was delivered wrong. 

Izzy seemed surprised at your surprise. “What? You work through all that.” You weren’t convinced. Izzy sighed. “You work on a ship full of idiots who won’t do their damn jobs even if you served it to them on one of Bonnet’s stupid fancy plates, and you work through all that shit?”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Was that a compliment you just gave me?” You chuckled. “Who are you and what have you done with Izzy?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off.” His voice was still soft. “Does anyone know?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s too easy to exploit in a fight. Don't want to risk it.”

“Not even Ed?”

“No, I think he knows there’s something with me and sound. He’s observant enough but I never told him.” Sure you and Ed had been kind of friends before, for a long time too but before the Revenge, the idea of being allowed to be that vulnerable (even around someone you trusted with your life) felt wrong.  Izzy seemed weirdly stoic for a moment. You wondered how he felt, knowing a secret his captain didn’t. “You can tell him if you’d like. I’m not going to ask you to keep a secret from your captain.” You knew how Izzy’s loyalties lied between you and Ed, but you still didn’t want to put Izzy in an uncomfortable situation because of your screw up.

A moment passed in comfortable silence and you stretched and stood. “Well, back to it…” Izzy held up a hand to stop you from leaving. “What?”

“You’re taking the rest of the day off.” You could tell he meant it as an order even though his voice was still soft. 

“No, no. I can get back to work.” He stared. “Seriously I’m fine. I’ve worked through this sort of thing before.”

Izzy huffed and for a moment you thought he was going to back down but instead. “Take the day off. That’s an order from your first mate.”

You sighed. You weren’t winning this. “You got it, first mate Hands. Don’t hesitate to get me if anything comes up.” He nodded curtly but you doubted he’d get you for anything short of an emergency.  You walked out into the hall towards your cabin. “Also, thank you.” You called over your shoulder. “It was nice of you to come by to check on me, even if it was under duress.” 

“I will take your break back.” Izzy grumbled but you knew it was an empty threat. He’d had to convince you to take the break after all. 

You chuckled. “See you around!”

The day after what you were mentally calling ‘the incident ‘ you came on deck to find nothing unusual. It was quiet, as it usually was. Even back when you were a captain, you always came up on deck early. It was calm and you could get a lot of work done. You waved at Izzy when you came on deck. He returned the wave (after looking behind himself as if he assumed you were waving to someone else).

As the day continued the crew slowly trickled awake. Quite a few people asked if you were “feeling better”. Apparently, Izzy had told everyone you’d had a headache (Sans Ed of course, you caught the slightly concerned looks he gave so, you gave him a thumbs up in return). As soon as the crew was on deck you were already bracing yourself for more yelling. It didn’t take long for someone to piss Izzy off enough. You could see Izzy gearing up for a yelling match while Wee John and Frenchie seemed unimpressed and you were already mentally preparing for the sound. 

It didn’t come.

You heard Izzy instead hiss out a cold “Wait.” at barely above a whisper. Whether it was the unusualness of it all or the serious tone of his voice, they listened. Izzy quickly made his way across the deck to stand at your side. You raised a brow in silent confusion. “Cover your ears.” He mumbled, clearly making an attempt to be quiet. It was strange but you humored him, curious as to what was going on.

As soon as your hands were covering your ears Izzy went back to where he was standing and (after confirming one last time that you had your ears covered) went straight into yelling. 

Huh.

You assumed he'd drop it after a bit. He was just giving you time to recover. That didn’t happen. Instead it became a part of Izzy’s usual routine. When he was going to start yelling, he'd always let you know, at first he had to run up to you, then later all it took was a glance. The heads up did help quite a bit. 

Of course you couldn’t always cover your ears. Whenever you had your hands full and couldn’t do what the two of you usually did, Izzy would instead switch to whispering his threats, grabbing whoever he was talking to and pulling them close.

“They respond better to it as well.” Izzy confided to you one morning, both of you leaning against the railing, drinking coffee and relaxing after a successful raid.. 

You grinned. “I’ve used that strategy for ages. You’d be surprised how intimidating whispering can be.”

Izzy chuckled lightly. After that he stayed quiet for a long moment. You raised a brow. You could tell he was trying to figure out how to bring something up. You decided to stay quiet and let him organize his thoughts.

You were rewarded for your patience by a jumpscare as Izzy just awkwardly shoved something into your arms. You looked down to see you were holding a box? You looked back at him and raised a brow. “It’s a very nice box…” You commented somewhat cheekily.

Izzy was doing a really good job at not looking at you. His face even looked a little flushed. “Piss off. Just open the damn box before I toss it into the damn ocean.” He mumbled. His tone was nowhere near as harsh as usual. 

You smiled, gently opening the box. Inside were a bunch of small pieces of… You picked one up. It was malleable in your hand. Wax. It was some kind of wax. 

“They're earplugs. Apparently they’re for your ears.” Izzy stated bluntly, answering your unasked question.

“In what way?”

Izzy sighed, seemingly unsure of himself. “You put them in your ears. Got them on the raid. Had a very well stocked clinic.” You nodded, you remembered Roach being excited about it all. “Willing to bet half of that shit was some kind of experimental treatment. Not even Bonnet knew all of them so it’s not just fancy. Saw the surgeon’s log. Apparently they’re designed to protect a soldier's ears when they’re fighting.”

“And you grabbed these for me?” You asked, already smiling, you pulled two pieces out and pocketed the box.

Izzy flushed more. “I- Well…I  thought they’d be most useful to you. So…”

“Thank you.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, you felt the flinch even as he tried to play it off. You immediately moved to pull away but Izzy moved his arm slightly as if to follow so you left your hand there. You’d been working the wax in your hand so it was already soft enough to try. You gently placed one into your ear, switching the hand on Izzy’s shoulder to put in the other. 

It actually… Kind of worked.

“I think they work… Izzy, could you yell for a bit.” Izzy chuckled at the request but he did step back a bit and shout. You could hear him well enough that you knew he was calling your name but the sound wasn’t overpowering like it normally was.

“Holy shit.” You whispered. 

Izzy was quick to rush to your side. “Are you alright? Did it work? I-”

You cut him off by placing a hand on both his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He fumbled for a moment then shivered but clung to you almost desperately.

“Thank you Izzy. Seriously. It means a lot to me.” You whispered.

As close as you were, you could hear Izzy’s soft, “Of course. I’m glad they help you.” 

You had a few minutes before the crew would come on deck. So you closed your eyes, enjoyed the quiet and stayed where you were until then.

#adding “history of hearing protection” to my list of weird things I googled while writing fics #i know I don't have to be historically accurate for ofmd but research instinct too strong #ofmd x reader #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #our flag means death x reader #ofmd izzy