#ofmd imagine

[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

[caitlinsnicket]

deserving more

summary: izzy needs to be taken care of, and you do just that

warnings: low self esteem implied, sad izzy, angst, lots of fluff though

a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written i've been manic for a whole week i'm going crazy i need him in my pocket (i'm also posting this on ao3 under the same name so,,,

Too long had passed since you got to the front of his cabin door, and even longer your hand hovered its handle. He could shun you, could throw something at your face, could stab you, he could be dead. You didn’t really care, to be honest, you just wanted him to be okay. Feeling yourself get calmer, and ready for whatever Izzy you could get (the angry, the moody, the melancholic, the drunk), your hand finally touched the handle and you opened the door.

He was sitting on his sad excuse for a bed, bottle of liquor halfway empty, hair falling on his forehead in such a way that no light reached his eyes. The whole room was a mess, things on the ground everywhere, and it was difficult for you to find a place to put down the things you brought with you.

“What do you want?” He said after a long sigh, taking another sip from the bottle and muttering something else that you couldn’t understand.

You had to choose your words carefully. You knew how he could be, but given his expression, which made your heart ache, you didn’t think he had any energy left in him.

“I want to help. Just… tell me how.”

Izzy took a sip of his drink, not bothering to look at you while you spoke. 

"And how can you help?" The former first mate asked, his tone somewhat rude. Still, no real venom behind his words.

You had to suppress a smile. He had no idea how endearing he could be.

“That’s what I’m asking, dear. Let me help you.” You stepped closer now, and he watched your every move. Izzy rolled his eyes, the drink almost empty already. 

"Fine. What can you do then? Sweetie, that is." He rolled his eyes, leaning back on the wall behind him. You chuckled, moving things around with your feet to make a smoother path for him. You didn’t dare look at his leg. You tried to focus on something else.

“Do you have more alcohol in here?” You ask as you take the bottle from his hand and throw it out of the room, not caring if it was smashed. You’d deal with it later.

He scoffed, getting up with difficulty and going up to a cabinet on the far left of his cabin. There, he retrieved another bottle, and struggled to get it open. 

“You’re lucky I don’t kill you for that. And I do have more stuff here, you got a problem?” He’s not managing to open it, and it’s such a weak attempt to show strength that it fills you with affection. 

You take the new bottle from his hands, gently so as to not startle him, and place it near the things you’ve brought with you. Keeping it for some other time might be a good idea.You try to make your voice soothing, as if he was a wild animal that could run off or bite at any moment.

“As long as I find it here, it’s going out. You stink, how long has it been since you’ve cleaned yourself? Time to get cleaned up.” You go to the tub on the right side of the place, filling it with the hot water you managed to bring, and start arranging things as they should be: the soaps and oils on a little bench beside the tub, a stool not too far away and a towel at arms length. Izzy scoffed again, but he made no attempts to try and take his drink back. 

"You think I stink? I took a bath not two days ago. I smell fine." He looked around, anywhere but you, and one might say he was embarrassed. 

“You stink because of the booze and the wet leather. And probably the dried tears. Come on, be a good boy and help me get you to the tub.” You reached for him, taking his arms gently in your hands. Izzy groaned and tried to pull away, but he was too weak to escape your grip. 

"I don't wanna."

“Shush now. There we go, look at the nice, warm water. I’d leave you to clean yourself, but you can barely stand. Is it okay if I help you with it?” It felt important to you that he knew he had power over himself and his body. He’d already been taken so much, it was the least he could have. Izzy groaned again, but a small part of him was starting to enjoy this, and he finally gave in. 

"F-fine."

“There’s my good boy.” You feel a flutter in my chest when his cheeks warm up a little, and reach for his gloves.

"Stop," Izzy said, blushing for a moment before he realized what he had said. The former first mate then covered his face in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean to - I mean - this doesn't mean anything, alright?!"

“Right.” You extend the word as long as you can, and go back to the task at hand. You pull his hands back down, not looking at his face in an attempt to give him privacy. Still, you get a glimpse of his burning cheeks.

His hands feel warm against yours, the ink on them itching you to caress it with your lips. You try not to stare too much, soon moving to taking his vest out. His breath tickled your cheek, and if you looked up your lips would be inches away from each other. Reluctantly and with a deep breath, you take a step back to be able to look at him.

“I’m serious though. I just want to take care of you right now. We can talk about the meaning of things when you’re sober.” He started to get fussy again, but you pulled him back by his sleeves and started undoing the button on each of them.

"I can handle the meaning of things," Izzy said with a roll of his eyes. "I just want to sleep. I'll be alright, I swear." The former first mate then let his arms go limp as they were pulled back. "Get me clean, and then I'll think about meaning with you."

You don't answer him, instead, you get impossibly close, opening his shirt button by button, trying to ignore your quickened heartbeat.

“This okay?” You look at him this time, consequences be damned.

"Mph - yes - fine." Izzy was a little more than blushing at this point, his eyes darting somewhere else as you undressed him. "I know what you're doing, you know?" As his chest came into view, it became a little harder for you to concentrate on not biting him. You took a deep breath and a feeling of dread crossed you when you realized he noticed it. His cheeks were pink.

“Oh, really? What am I doing? Besides trying to take this off.” You stumble at the last word, his shirt completely off now, revealing his full chest and stomach. You licked your lips subconsciously, darting your eyes to the ceiling for a moment. “Now your pants.”

"You're trying to seduce me," He mumbled as he began to slide his pants down. "I know it's happening right now, and you can't deny it." He struggled a bit, but you didn’t dare to touch him then. He’d probably punch you if you tried.

You averted your eyes once his leg came into view, turning to the other side to give him privacy. Your fingers itched to touch him.

“I can’t seduce you, I know. You only have eyes for the captain. Even after this mess, it’s still him. I get it.” You inspect your shoes, alert to his grunts and movements. Soon, the sound of water splashing told you he was already inside the tub, and you turned back around.

“Then why even try? You know you can’t win, and I know you can’t win.” He sighed, splashing some water on his face, trying to wake up. “Don’t waste your time trying, because it’s never going to happen.” He slid himself up to his mouth in the water, watching you like a hawk.

“You’re worth it.” You say, hoping your voice doesn’t quiver, not looking at him while you take another bottle from your bag. “I’m going to sit behind you now and wash your hair, okay?”.

He ignores your warnings, staring into the distance as you pull a stool to the side of the tub and start organizing your items.

“ I'm really not." He mumbles, his voice hoarse. His expression was still grim, and he tilted his head in your direction to see what you were doing.

You gathered water on your hands, the warmth comfortable on your skin. You gently let it run down Izzy’s head, repeating the movements until his hair was completely wet. He sighed and leaned more to your side, his shoulders visibly relaxing. From your point of view outside of the tub, he looked small, like a hurt animal afraid to be hurt again. You opened up the bottle of hair wash that you stole from Stede’s cabin and started massaging his head very gently.

“I don’t know who told you that, but you are. To me, you are.” Talking about your feelings to him was easier when he wasn’t looking at you. He leaned back more, and you noticed his eyes were closed, the crease on his forehead almost gone.

“I’m a wreck.” He muttered, his hands moving slowly through the water. “How is that attractive?” His voice hesitated a little, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I mean, I was always into hot messes. You fit the description.” You said, a smile making its way to your face. Bubbles emerged from his hair, and you were careful to not let any of it go to his eyes. “Besides, I think you’re attractive even when you stink.” You scrape his scalp with your nails very tenderly, the touch barely happened.

Izzy shuddered, moving his head down slightly to avoid your wandering eyes. Still, you caught a glimpse of his pinkish cheeks and your smile got wider.

"Y-yeah, well - you're the only one then." He then glanced at you, a small smile on his face. "No one else likes me, I swear. The crew and the rest of the world despise me, and I can't blame them for that." The smile didn’t reach his eyes, as if he was making a joke at his own expense.

“You know what they call you? ‘Our Izzy’. They know why you're tough on them. I know why too. We know you care. I'm just the only one with romantic taste around here.” You rinse his hair from the bubbles, watching his chest going up and down as he breathes calmly. He didn’t respond for a while, simply playing with the bubbles in the water. His hair felt soft in your hands.

"I'm... too tough on them sometimes, I swear. I just... I just want to help them." His voice was so low you could barely hear it, a far cry from the man you first met when you boarded the ship. It felt hard to breathe for a moment.

“I know, dear, I know. It's alright.” You feel bold, and you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. He stills for a moment and then relaxes entirely. When you pull away, you get the soap and hold it out to him. “I'll let you wash yourself now, but I'm right here. Just... to talk or help.” I turn my back to him, trying to give him some privacy. There would be time for staring some other time. Hopefully.

Izzy held the soap in his hands, but didn’t use it yet. Instead, he stayed still, enjoying the feeling of the water around him and aching for the feeling of your fingers back on his scalp. He felt so comfortable he forgot what he was supposed to do, until you leaned back on the tub and he heard a thump.

"Right. Sorry..." The former first mate rubbed the soap along his arms, his legs, his back, anywhere that he could easily reach. You heard him groan and cover it up with a cough, probably cleaning his amputated leg. You felt your body boil at the thought of it, considering finishing the job with Blackbeard. After a while, you heard the sound of water splashing around, and then silence. "That felt nice." His voice broke when he said it, as if he was ashamed. You sighed at the bubbling affection on your chest, your first instinct to reach to him and squeeze him to you.

“Would you like me to continue? The water is still warm.” You turn slightly, so you could hear him better in case he whispered.

“I-I mean, if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and as you turned around you realized his eyes were previously closed. He opened them, his gaze glazed and tired. “I don’t want to be a bother. Just… Don’t do anything you’ll, y’know. Regret.” He quickly looked away, always ready for rejection. Expecting it. The only thing he’s ever known, by the looks of it.

The need to kill Ed burned in your veins.

Instead, you get the bottle of oil and put it in your hands, warming it up before you touch his head again, a happy sigh leaving his lips. His hair felt softer than ever as you moved slowly through its strands, leaving no part untouched.

“You’re the one thing I don’t regret.” I say, closer to his face now, studying his features and how the droplets of water dibble down his neck. Next, I inspect his hair, the strands making a stunning gradient of black, gray and white.

Izzy couldn't help but notice you looking at him. He cleared his throat a little, the blush on his face making another appearance. 

"Do I... Do I have something in my hair?" He was obviously fishing for a compliment here and hoping you'd just be nice and tell him how good he looked.  He didn’t realize how desperate he sounded. You turn your gaze to him, your positioning a little weird to stare at him properly, but comfortable nonetheless.

“No, just… You’re so pretty Izzy.” Your touch turns featherlight now, just touching him for the sake of being close.

Izzy went silent, his face growing even crimson at your compliment. His hands go back to nervously playing in the water. 

"I'm... I'm not pretty. Not in the slightest." His voice was almost shaky, and he tried to hide his face so you wouldn't see how much he was blushing. Your smile turns to a smirk, your fingers just brushing his hair back now.

“Well, I say you are. You're pretty and handsome and if you knew the power you have over people... The power you have over me.” You grow breathless, leaning closer to his ear. “You'd conquer the world.” In a whisper, you make him shiver, and he takes a quick glance at you before looking back to the water. His shoulders seem to relax, though.

"If I had that kind of power then I wouldn't be moping about right now." He thinks about the power he actually wanted to have, whose power he wanted to have, and his mind drifted off for a moment. It only took a second to realize that you were still looking at him, and he cleared his throat. "And, just how much do I have... 'power' over you?"

You took a moment to think. This would be it. You know there’s still life after this, and tomorrow will be another day, but it would change things. You look at him again, the tattoo on his cheek and neck, the strand of hair falling over his forehead. You move to stand beside him so you could look at him properly. He deserved to be looked at, to be acknowledged. You take a deep breath.

“I'd kill Blacçbeard for you. And Bonnet too. And anyone else you asked. I'd do anything, Izzy, just so you'd glance at me.” You lean in his direction, pushing the strands of hair away so you could get a clear view of his face. His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown. “That's why I acted like an idiot in the beginning.” You look down at your hands, then get up, feeling his eyes on you. From your bag, you get the clean towel and squeeze it in your hands, feeling its softness. “I wanted you to look at me.”

He looked like he was about to pass out. His heart was pounding in his ears, the urge to kiss you becoming almost irresistible. He knew this wasn't some act of kindness, something that was happening simply because you were a good person. It was something different, and he wasn't sure of what to do with that knowledge. He attempted to speak, but what came out was a mix of a scream and a sigh.

"W-what?"

“You heard me. Now, dry up, I have a surprise for you.” A shy smile makes its way to your face, and you rummage your bag again looking for the final thing you’d use today.

"Yes, ma'am." The former first mate's eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said. He made it too easy. "Right. Of course." Izzy then got out of the bath, taking the towel from your hand and drying himself up. He wasn't sure about anything anymore, but at the same time, he didn't mind this at all. As a matter of fact, he kinda liked it. It felt good to be desired like this. 

“Tell me when you’re ready” You tell him, holding the softest fabric you’d ever seen in your hands. Also stolen from Stede. 

He took a moment to finish up, holding the towel around his waist before calling out to you.

“Okay. I’m ready.” He says, readying himself for your gaze on him. Instead, you hold out your hand to him, a silky white nightgown coming into his view. He stares for a second, completely silent, and you let out a laugh at his reaction. His stomach curls at the sound, wishing nothing more than to hear it again.

“I know it wouldn’t be your first choice, but I found it a while ago and I thought you might need something nice. Soft. You deserve it, Izzy.” As your laugh died down, your voice became softer, as if trying to assure him that he was still safe, and still himself. “Plus, I only wore it a couple of times.”

He remained quiet for another moment before practically ripping it off your hand and mumbling profanities at you and Bonnet. You heard the towel hit the ground, and then the ruffling of fabric. 

With shaky hands, he put it on, the fabric feeling comfortable and cool against his skin. He took a look at the mirror on the opposite side of the room, and beamed at how pretty he looked, hair down and shiny clothes on. He felt warm all over, buzzing with life and excitement.

“You can turn around now.” His voice quavering but soft. As you turned around, you saw that his expression was soft too.

He looked like an angel, like a lost prince finally back home, like someone who finally got exactly what they needed to be happy. 

“Oh, Izzy.” You hold his right hand to give him balance as you stare, his cheeks a light red color now, even in the dim light. His smile is hesitant, but bright all the same. It takes all your strength to not kiss him right then and there. “You look perfect.”

You supported him as you made your way to his bed, and he seemed grateful as you did so. His eyes were expectant and hopeful, but you pushed your own excitement down to focus on him. You tucked him in, making sure he was comfortable, and sat beside him, intertwining your fingers together. Before you could say anything, he broke the silence.

“You can kiss me, if you want. Or, I don’t know. I don’t mind.” His fingers trace mindless shapes on the back of your hand, and you shiver at it. Still, your heart aches for him and his reaction. You pull his chin up with your fingers, making him look at you.

“Not tonight, love.” His pupils seem to widen at the nickname, and his lips part slightly. “And don’t get me wrong, I really want to. But not tonight. Not now. I’ll earn your affection Izzy, and I’ll do so gladly. And even if you don’t want me like that, I’ll still take care of you.” You caress his cheek then, his beard coarse against your fingertips. You smile at him, moving closer once again and kissing his forehead, your touch so light he could confuse it for a butterfly's.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything, I’ll be in the cabin right beside this one. Just knock and I’ll come right away. Goodnight, Izzy.” You kiss his forehead again, taking in his puzzled expression, and you figure out you’ll have time to explain it to him some other day.

You leave the room, but before you close the door, you take a look at him. He stays still for a moment, his hands crossed on his stomach, his face deep in thought. Then, he smiles a little, contained and shy at himself and turns around, his back to you. You close the door, trying not to make noise, and make your way to your own cabin, your heart fluttering with what you could only assume was love.

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

[just-a-little-cellist]

I see you're taking requests!! I'd like to request a Izzy hand x gn/male reader where the reader is oddly obsessed with Izzy's hands if that's okay? Could be sfw or NSFW, whatever your heart is more into :3

(I'm so deeply in love with Izzy you don't understand, littol rat man stole my heart so I am more than happy to write for him)

(Izzy Hands x gender neutral reader - set pre-season 2, some NSFW towards the end :P)

Izzy is an observant man, so sooner or later he will notice the unusual amount of attention you direct towards him.

How he reacts to it, though, will depend on how close you already are.

If you two are not close, he maintains his distance for a bit while he tries to figure out what's going on with you. He doesn't understand at first what your intentions are - he figures if anything that you're just intimidated by him - so he doesn't think much of it. However, after catching you staring a few times while he's working and seeing your flustered face turn away, he guesses that there's something more behind it.

As he starts finding excuses for you to help him with things, another thing he notes is that you seem most fixated on him when he's working with his hands. He catches you, just once, transfixed by the way his hands move when he shows you how to tie a particular knot for the second time.

Izzy curses himself when he finds himself making an effort to get your attention like that more, and he maybe even initiates some casual affection, like putting a hand on your shoulder or your lower back while he's talking to you.

If you two are in a relationship when he begins to notice, the teasing will start fast.

"See something you like, darlin'?"

And once he sees just how flustered it gets you, he'll find any excuse to rile you up.

He absolutely does that thing where he cups your jaw with his fingers and traces his thumb over your lips.

He'll beckon you over on deck with a crook of his fingers, and from the smirk on his face he knows the filthy thoughts that motion sparks.

If Izzy's sat next to you, there's a hand placed firmly on your thigh and, if you don't protest, his fingers will trace upwards until you're squirming in your seat.

(Sidenote: if you ask him very nicely he will absolutely wear the glove in bed.)

#our flag means death x reader #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd x reader #ofmd x you #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #isreal hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd imagine #ofmd headcanon #izzy hands hcs #izzy hands headcanons #izzy hands imagine

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Pride Got in the Way (Izzy Hands)

Pairing: Izzy Hands x Gender Neutral! Reader

Words: 5.6k+

Warning(s): HURT/COMFORT! ANGST! blood, verbal fighting, physical fighting, stab wounds, injuries, needles/stitches, swearing

A/N: IZZY BRAIN ROT. I am so obsessed with him right now omg, I just had to write this out.

Summary: You were tired of your lover, Izzy Hands, treating the crew of The Revenge you called family poorly, and decide to take a quiet walk out. Unfortunely, two muggers demanded your items.

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

It was one of those rare stops that were made for The Revenge. There was a need to stock up on food and none of you wanted to get scurvy like Swede did. It was some small port that you and Ed pointed out to Stede that was mostly neutral to pirates. Although Izzy made sure to remind you and Edward that no one had to worry about the crew of the Revenge being taken as pirates. Despite loving the man to death, his comments about the crew and captain of The Revenge made you roll your eyes. You were Stede's first mate and held loyalty to the crew, regardless of your relationship with Blackbeard's first mate. Even with his comments, he had agreed to put up with "Stede Fucking Bonnet" and the crew for Edward and for you.

It was strange how you and Izzy fell together like long lost souls. You were one of the only ones deemed competent on the Revenge, with the inclusion of Jim. He saw how you handled yourself with a sword when he rescued you and a few others from the Spanish. He saw the potential you had and got to know you, helped better your swordsmanship before you two confessed feelings.

Currently, you and the rest of the crew were putting away all the food Stede had purchased for the vessel. You were close to finishing, hoisting the last bag of potatoes over your shoulder, Wee John carried up two crates of oranges right behind you, Stede and Lucius were carrying a few loaves of bread, and everyone followed along with the remaining groceries. When you got to the hull kitchen Roach pointed you to where he wanted the potatoes and after that you went back to the deck. 

You stood on deck towards the front of the ship, placing your hand on the shoulder you used to carry all the sacks. You rolled it and winced as some pain bloomed from your shoulder and shoulder blade to your spine. You cursed under your breath and dropped your hand, figuring you must of lifted something wrong and pulled a muscle. 

"Are you alright?" You heard Izzy's distinct voice behind you. You felt his hands caress the spots between your shoulder and neck, his thumbs kneaded circles into the tender flesh and muscles for just a few moments before he stood by your side. He never was much a fan displaying affection in front of the crew, despite everyone already figuring out you both were a couple.

"Yeah, I think I strained my shoulder carrying food. It'll probably heal in a few days. Are we leaving after this?" 

"Well, fucking Stede wants us all to go to the tavern and enjoy a night off." He scoffed.

"A night out sounds fun, it can be almost a proper date night." You smiled and watched his face visibly soften at that idea. 

"Will we still go to the tavern with...everyone... or..." His voice trailed at the thought, making you chuckle.

"I would like to spend an hour with everyone before we go off on our own for privacy." He rolled his eyes and you chuckled again. "I know you think less of our crew, but maybe this time on the land in a joyous occasion will be fun."

"Let's hope, my dear." You bit your tongue and looked down at the bustling docks. You hoped he held you as an exception to his discontentment but you can't help but feel hurt by his words, as you were still a key part in Stede's crew.

----------

The tavern was bustling with energy and lively music. Stede had promised to buy everyone their first round of ale, but you knew everyone was probably going to dip when morning comes. The crew were causing a ruckus but everyone seemed happy. Everyone except Israel Hands, who sat next to you in the back corner brooding. Every time you tried making conversation, it always resulted in him giving you short, half-assed replies. He hadn't even touched the drink Stede had bought him. You had it at his pride against your captain, the crew, and the way things are run on The Revenge.

"Israel," The use of his actual name had him blink in shock and turn to face you. "Why are you so tense? You should be relaxed and should be enjoying the ale."

"Dancing makes you soft. All this makes you weak." He spat and gestured to everyone. This time he included you with his insults, whether intentional or not. "Blackbeard has been falling since he came across Stede and you lot."

He clicked his tongue and scowled. "We should be back on the water right now, looking for a ship to raid and plunder. These dogs shouldn't be having fun like this when they haven't done shit to earn it."

"Well, I am a part of those dogs, Israel." You glared at him, some pent up frustration building up. "I was hoping you and I can at least dance and be somewhat tipsy and happy before we go on our own."

"You know what, Izzy?" You stood up from your chair and practically snarled at him. "I know losing your reputation and losing what Edward used to be may be the end of the world for you, but it isn't for me. Stede is an idiot, yes, but he saved my life from the destitute and pain I experienced by giving me a spot with his crew. His crew is not the most pirate ready people, but damn do they make good friends. I have tried to tie you, someone I deeply care for and love, in with them but you insult them without getting to fully know them."

"(Y/N)..." He tried speaking but you didn't allow him.

"I don't know if you realize it but every time you insult them, you insult me. And your last remark here? Just solidified that you truly see me as nothing more than a dog." You removed your coin pouch from your hip and dropped it in front of him. "If you're not going to drink that because Stede bought it, use my funds." After that, you quickly stormed out of the tavern, not caring how everyone was watching you tear into Izzy.

"Shit." Lucius muttered and quickly went to follow you. Stede saw his first mate looking upset so he decided to excuse himself from Ed to try and help. With a raised brow and a disappointed look, Edward Teach decided to approach Izzy on what happened.

Outside the tavern, you paced with tears threatening to fall. When you heard the door open you quickly turned so your back was facing whoever came out. You could feel your body tremble as you kept your arms wrapped around yourself.

"Hey, it's just us." You heard Lucius speak softly, approaching you on your left.

"What made you upset?" Stede asked on your right.

"That was the first time either one of us exploded at each other." Even your voice trembled, a tear slipped from your glassy eyes and fell along the curve of your face. "I just... I don't know if he realizes how mean he sounds sometimes."

"I think he does. He is an angry little twat." Lucius snorted, which made you slightly chuckle through the tears.

"But what we also know is he cares for you deeply, (Y/N)." Stede placed a hand on your upper arm and you looked to face him. He visibly gulped at your tear stricken face. "And you do for him."

"I'll never see why but I respect you." Lucius added. "You are amazing, the best of us next to dear ol' Jim. He needs to see that in order to respect you, he needs to learn that things aren't going to be the same as they were for him."

"Blackbeard has taught us a lot, and you have been a great help in that. I'd say we are ready for a true adventure after this." Your captain smiled but you knew he was just trying to make you feel better. So, you smiled and nodded, giving them both a short hug.

"Thank you both. I am just going to take a quick walk for some fresh air, I'll be back in a bit."

"Stay safe, I will need my first mate for when we sail tomorrow." Stede winked and headed back into the tavern.

"And when you get back I'll get you a drink, (Y/N)." Lucius gave you another hug, leaving you alone. You sighed, shoving your hands into your coat pockets before walking down the street.

It was quiet and empty, the only light source was the half-moon and the lit lanterns down the path. You had no real destination in mind, you just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the silence. You had hoped in your heart Izzy would take your words into consideration but you feared your outburst would forever damage your relationship with him. You knew you were right, but you didn't think losing your cool like that was what was needed.

You shook your head. This walk was to clear your mind, not dwell on the encroaching heartache.

---------

Back in the tavern, Ed was having a simple talk with Izzy on what happened. Suddenly Stede and Lucius came back in and immediately made their way to Izzy. The shorter man groaned at the thought of dealing with them both but Edward slapped his arm.

"See, that attitude has (Y/N) upset, mate." Edward scolded. Lucius and Bonnet pulled up chairs and sat across from the two and it seems the rest of the crew started paying attention to what was happening.

"You're lucky they like you." Lucius said with a curled lip, disgust on his face.

"Iggy..." Stede tried to start but Izzy gave him a look. "Sorry, Izzy, when you yell and insult us... Do you realize that you are also insulting (Y/N)?"

"What?" He was confused. He thought his actions towards you would have been obvious that he never included you when he was ordering around the crew.

"You never really differentiate it when you do. Regardless if you should or not, your insults also hurt them as we are the closest thing to them as a family." Stede concluded his remarks and everyone nodded or hummed in agreement.

"Yea mate, would you like it if they did the same thing to Blackbeard, Fang, Ivan and you?" Frenchie asked, pointing a finger at Izzy.

"I-I get it. I was a complete twat to them. I'll apologize when they get back." Izzy sighed, gritting his teeth slightly. "I... I apologize for my behavior and will try to work on that."

"That is great! Remember, when we get angry on the Revenge: we like to talk it through, as a crew." Stede smiled and Izzy gave him a glare, but bit his tongue from retorting. "Okay! We shall leave you alone for a bit."

------

You went down to the docks on your walk and now you were heading back to the tavern. The cool air nipped your face but after some time to yourself, you felt much better and calm. You planned to apologize to Izzy about your outburst. You recognized that snapping at him in front of everyone before talking to him about it in private was a bit out of hand and you likely embarrassed him, but you weren't going to apologize for your message.

You were about two minutes away from the tavern when you felt the hair on your neck seemingly raise in alarm. You felt as though you were being watched. You slowed to a stop, putting your hand on the hilt of your sword, and turned around. Sure enough, there was a man following you.

"Couldn't help but notice that nice coat you're wearing, and that sword." He spoke, a smirk on his face. He slowly approached and slowly unsheathed his own sword, a bit rusted and damaged.

"And?" You tilted your head, slowly mimicking his action with your own sword, wincing ever so slightly at the pain from your shoulder.

"Why don't you hand those over and any other nice things, and I won't have to kill you?"

"Why don't you fuck right off?" You raised a brow and cocked your head to the side. The man spat in your direction and immediately started taking swings at you. You expertly blocked each swing, the sound of metal clashing echoed in the night. You were playing purely defense against him. You allowed him the offense to tire out, which he did. You could see his swings were getting sloppy.

You shifted to offense, taking swings at him. You landed a few cuts on his arms and legs, nothing too serious but you wanted to get it across you weren't to be fucked with. Thinking back to Izzy's lessons, you easily maneuver your weapon and disarm him. His weapon was sent to the ground and you swiftly put the tip of your weapon at his throat.

"Walk away now or my blade will enter your throat."  You hissed. It didn't seem to faze the man, which confused you. You were about to press the tip into his throat to get the point across when you heard footsteps behind you. That is when it clicked why this man wasn't phased. You quickly turned on your heels and that is when searing, hot white pain was felt in your lower left side. You glanced down and saw a dagger in your gut.

"Surprise." The person who stabbed you smirked.

"Careful of the coat, I want that." The man you previously were dueling spoke. The dagger was yanked out of you, tears fell from your eyes at the pain. Your grip tightened on your sword and you swung it at the man who stabbed you. He stepped back, only receiving a cut to his cheek. You take a step to get in reach with him but then your right thigh was slashed, the immediate pain almost made it unbearable to stand in that moment.

"You're one tough cookie."

"F-Fuck..." You hoarsely spoke. You attempted to try and get away but one of the men shoved you to the ground. Roughly your coat was taken from your body, your attempts to fight them off were futile. Your sword was then picked up off the ground while you tried to stand back up again. You were met with a fist straight to the nose and you were on your back. You rolled over onto your side as blood began leaking into your throat from your nose.

"Take their necklace too." The first one you dueled commanded.

"N-No..." You pleaded, voice stuffy from the blood leaking from your probably broken nose. A hand buried itself in your hair and lifted your head up while the other maneuvered your chain and ring over your head. The ring Izzy bought you to match his around his tie. After it was stolen the person dropped your head, which bounced against the dirty ground.

The two muggers simply cackled at the situation and took off the way you had just come from. You took a moment to catch your breath and pushed yourself off the ground. When you added more weight to your slashed leg you could barely contain the almost scream of pain. Your blood and tears were a mix on your face.

You started slowly limping back to the tavern. Like hell were you going to die alone on the streets... without apologizing and explaining yourself to Izzy...without telling him and your crew you loved them. Pure rage and determination filled your system as you trekked onwards. You could tell you were getting weaker by the second from loss of blood, but you hoped you were applying enough pressure to your side wound to keep the bleeding down.

It took you longer than you had wanted, but the tavern was in view.

"Just... Just a little bit more..." You mumbled, the taste and smell of coppery iron penetrated your taste and smell. Your vision was darkening along the corners and you struggled to keep your head up. You could tell you would collapse soon, before you could reach the door.

Thankfully, that door swung open and out came three people. You could barely tell who they were; Wee John, Frenchie, and Roach.  You could feel numbness begin to take over your legs, so you took one final step in the light of a lantern nearby.

The three were laughing, telling the rest of the crew they will be right back before the door slammed shut. Their laughing stopped when their attention was on you.

"(Y/N)?!" Wee John shouted. You couldn't speak, you simply smiled and your legs gave out, hitting the ground with a painful thud. The three quickly rushed over and horror was on their faces at the amount of blood on your person.

"Shit!" Frenchie cursed. "Take them back to the ship to Captains quarters, Roach you get to sew up any wounds when you get there and I'll get everyone else."

"Got it." They both replied and sprung into action. Roach slipped off the apron he always wore and wrapped it as fast as he could around your thigh as that was bleeding more than your other wounds, telling you to keep pressure before you were lifted into John's arms. You cried out at the movement, John hushed you gently and the three of you took off towards the ship.

Frenchie slammed open the door, "Guys!" Only a few people turned their heads, he gritted his teeth in frustration. "GUYS!" The music and chatter died down as everyone stared at him.

"What is it?" Stede asked.

"It's (Y/N), they got attacked. John and Roach are getting them to the ship. It's pretty bad."

It was dead silent for a moment. The mug Izzy was holding clattered against the floor was the only thing heard in that moment.

Chaos then ensued. Everyone was pushing their way out the door while Stede threw some coins at the bar keep. Izzy shoved himself to the front of the group as they ran back to the ship. He felt cold dread in his system, tears threatening to spill. 

The crew got the ship in no time and Izzy was bounding up the ship. He felt his heart drop when he heard your screams from the captain's room. He wasted no time getting there and saw Roach attempting to hold your upper body with one arm while John was holding your kicking legs.

'This couldn't be happening... Why them?' His mind raced.  His heart ached. Guilt seeped into his system. The last thing he did to you was be a complete asshole. He didn't dance with you, he didn't take you out for a nice night out... he let his pride get the better of him and now you were hurt...

"Good! I need someone to hold them down." Roach commanded Izzy. "I'm trying to suture their wounds but they won't hold still. Someone help John with their legs!"

"Right..." Izzy blinked and rushed over. He felt his throat constrict at the sight of your shirt and pants basically cut open, and at the blood and wounds on your body. He wasted no time draping himself over your upper body/chest area, his back to Roach while he placed his hand on the top of your head, petting you softly.

"Izzy-?" You whispered out, your vision blurred from tears.  You felt the needle Roach was using to pierce the tender flesh around your leg wound, causing you to yell.

"Yes, it's me." He hoarsely whispered.

"I-I'm sorry for earlier. I am sorry for e-embarrassing you..." Your eyes squeezed shut as Roach continued sewing the wound. "I'm so-sorry I got attacked-"

"Hush. Don't apologize my dear." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. Roach had him scoot up more so he could have better access to your other wound. When he started on it, you threw your head back from the pain. You were able to get your arms around Izzy and squeezed them around him from the jabbing needle sensation. You whimpered softly and Izzy didn't know if he could take much more of you in pain. He whispered comforting words to you and placed another kiss on your temple.

The crew was in shock watching the scene before them. They were all worried for you, of course, but they had never seen Israel Hands so affectionate and soft before. Even Edward has never seen him like this before. 

"I just really love you and I want...want-" You screamed as Roach accidentally poked the needle he was using too close to the wound, your eyes rolling back before you passed out from pain and blood loss. Your arms around him go limp.

"(Y/N)?" His eyes searched your face for any sign of life, but you were still. The only thing he felt was your shallow breaths underneath him. Izzy quickly got off of your body and looked to Roach, who finished stitching the wounds. Oluwande, who helped John with your legs, handed him the bandages and Roach quickly wrapped up the wounds. Olu placed a blanket over your body and the three men stepped away, leaving Izzy the closest to you.

"Will...Will they make it?" Stede stepped forwards and asked. 

"In my professional opinion, I'm not sure. They lost a lot of blood; they were stabbed in the gut and had a deep cut in their leg. With them walking to the tavern, it furthered the bleeding. We may have to stay for a few days, watch for infection. If they get worse, we need to take them to an actual doctor." Roach sighed and crossed his arms. "We just have to watch over them."

“They must have been mugged.” Frenchie commented. “When we saw them, they were missing their coat and sword.”

“And their ring.” Izzy snarled, the thoughts and images of you being attacked and the images of you bleeding and wounded plagued his mine. He figured it was two people who jumped you. The wound to your gut and the wound to your leg were from different weapons.

Feeling overwhelmed and too emotional, Izzy turned away from you, shoving through the crew before storming to the deck. He found himself at the spot you both were at earlier. His hands gripped the wooden railing as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking out. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you died. He could barely stand to be in that room with you, he felt like he didn’t deserve to be in your presence any longer. He was blaming himself. If he hadn't been an asshole, you wouldn’t have left the tavern. 

“Izzy…” Blackbeard's voice startled him. The shorter man simply glanced over his shoulder and returned his tearful stare back to the city. “You should be in there with (Y/N).”

“I can’t.” Israel shook his head.

“They're your partner, mate.” 

“It’s my fault they are like this.”

“That’s not true. Izzy, they would want you in there when they wake up.”

“If they wake up…” Izzy tensed up when he felt Edward’s hand clasp his shoulder.

“Get your head out of your ass and get in there. You were a dick in the tavern but that doesn’t make what happened your fault. The people who attacked them are at fault. Not you. Do you want them to die thinking you were mad at them or thought less of them?” That struck a chord in his first-mate. He then pulled Izzy away from the railing. “Go, that is an order from your captain.”

Izzy didn’t argue any further. He hesitantly walked back to the room, waited as everyone else cleared the room, before stepping back in. He closed the door quietly and gazed back at you on Stede’s bed. Your face was still covered in blood and a layer of sweat covered your entire body. 

The door behind him opened and he spun around and saw Lucius standing in the doorway with a damp rag.

“I figured they didn’t want to wake up with crusty blood on their face. Here, you do it.” Lucius offered the rag and Izzy took it slowly.

“Thanks.” He whispered, then made his way to you. Lucius stared at him, shocked at his gratitude. He decided it was best not to comment on it and swiftly left Blackbeard’s first-mate alone. Izzy pulled up a chair and sat bedside to you, his face solemn. He leaned over and began cleaning your face. Thankfully your nose didn’t seem broken to him. His free hand cupped the top of your head as he wiped the blood under your nose and around your mouth. He moved towards your neck, cleaning the drying blood that got there. 

When he finished, he simply tossed the rag somewhere else in Stede’s quarters. He kept his one hand on your head, petting you once more, while his other reached under the blanket to grab your hand.

“I need you to pull through.” Izzy pleaded, tears welling up again. “You can’t leave me, (Y/N). I still owe you a dance and a night out. I still owe you an apology.” The tears fell again, and all Israel could do in this moment was hope you would wake up.

-----------

Mostly everyone on the ship started working on cleaning tasks early in the morning, and everyone kept looking to where the captains quarters were. Everyone was hoping to see you come, alive and recovering. Izzy hadn’t left the room, not that anyone could blame him. Edward checked in a few times as the day progressed but you were still out and Izzy was still holding your hand. While others were doing minimal jobs on The Revenge, Jim, Frenchie, Fang, and Black Pete were on the lookout for whoever robbed you, hoping they could get justice and get your items back. 

Izzy felt exhaustion seeping into his bones, but he refused to sleep. He wanted to be present when you awoke so he could apologize. He didn’t care if you didn’t want to see him again, he just wanted you awake. He wanted to see you recover. He took your hand in both of his hands and raised it to his lips, his facial hair scratched the back of your hand.

What Izzy didn’t expect was to feel your fingers twitch against his hands. His eyes snapped to your face as he heard soft groans leave your mouth. Your eyes opened, but you winced from the light, rapidly blinking. Your eyes adjusted to the light and you turned your head, looking at Izzy.

“Izzy?” You mumbled, taking in his worried and tired face. You go to sit up, but immense pain in your lower abdomen hits you. Izzy took one of his hands away from your hand and gently pushed you back down on the bed.

“Stay down, (Y/N). Do you remember what happened?” He cupped your cheek.

“I was followed on my way back to the tavern. I fought and disarmed him, but he had another person sneak up behind me. I turned around and was stabbed, then the other guy slashed my thigh. They took my coat… and the sword and ring you gave. Oh I’m-I’m sorry they took them…”

“Some of the crew are looking to get those back, don’t worry.” He hushed you. “You have nothing to apologize for, my dear. I should be apologizing, I was a complete and utter twat."

"I didn't mean to yell at you either."

"I needed it. I wasn't aware I was hurting you. I can't…promise immediate change or no slip ups, but I will work on integrating myself more into the crew." You stared at him for a moment and he worried he said something wrong, but when you smiled… that beautiful smile, he knew everything would be alright.

“Kiss me, Izzy.”

“Gladly.” Izzy leaned over, and placed a gentle, deep kiss. You giggled at his goatee scratching and tickling your face, you felt him smile against your face. 

“Izzy! We found the bastards- Oh shit! Sorry mate!” Edward entered the cabin. Izzy immediately shot up, slightly flustered, fixing his hair that fell over his face. You turned your head in Blackbeard’s direction and grinned at him.

“Hey Ed!”

“(Y/N!)” He opened his arms with a smile and approached the two of you. “I’m so glad you’re awake, how are you feeling? Izzy here was worried; sat by your bed all night.”

“Aww.” You smiled at Izzy who gave you a flustered glare.

“You said you found who did it?” Izzy straightened out his vest.

“Oh yeah. We spotted them hanging out at the docks. They got (Y/N)’s stuff. We are keeping an eye on them, I am sure you want to be the one to confront them.”

“Yes, good. You,” Izzy spun and pointed at you, “Stay put. You will be resting until you can properly walk.”

“Come on-”

“Don’t make me get Stede to order it.”

“Fine.” You huffed, but chuckled.

----------

Izzy stormed out of the captain’s quarters with Edward trailing behind him. Edward made sure to announce to the crew you were awake, and that whoever wants to help with the two muggers can join him. Stede happily volunteered and so did most people with the exception of Swede, who offered to keep an eye on you. 

The group dispersed, Ed going somewhere out of as he knew these people would run at the sight of the infamous Blackbeard. The two individuals were near the ship, one had your coat and the other had your sword and ring. The crew practically surrounded them on all sides to ensure they didn’t escape. Izzy rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, slowly approaching the two.

“I am only going to say this once.” He stopped right before them both, his voice catching their attention. “Unless you want to die, you will hand over that coat, sword, and ring.”

“Why should we?” One jeered, eyeing up Izzy. 

“Those items belong to my partner-”

“And my first mate!” Stede jumped in, making Izzy roll his eyes and make a ‘tch’ noise.

“I think they are talking about that dumbass we robbed last night.” The one with your coat nudged the other. They both shared a laugh, Izzy snarled and unsheathed his weapon. The second the one with your sword drew it, Izzy wasted no time to start swinging. It startled the two. His harsh strikes and ferocious demeanor had the one holding your sword completely unnerved. Izzy wasted no time landing many cuts to his skin before expertly disarming him. Jim stepped up and took your sword, holding it at the two. The rest of the crew, including Blackbeard, stepped in as well.

“Shit!” One of them hissed. The both of them begrudgingly took off the items and handed them over to Jim.

“I better not see you two ever again, or I will kill you both.” The men simply glared and turned away from him, quickly leaving the docks.

“Job well done, Izzy!” Stede grinned and patted him on the shoulder. He simply nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, and grabbed your things from Jim. He then made his way back to the ship, coming aboard to see you standing on the dock waiting for him with Swede keeping you up right.

“I thought I said you were to stay put.” He scolded, then put the necklace with the ring on it over your head. “And you didn’t keep them in bed?” He then scolded Swede, a bit more harsh.

“Don’t blame him, Iz. I was getting up regardless, he didn’t want me hurting myself.”

“I got it from here, Swede.” Izzy took over helping you and started taking you back to the captain’s room. “And no one disturb their rest!” The door closed behind you two and you laughed.

“Less bark there.”

“I am trying to integrate.” He sat you on the bed and placed your items on a chair nearby.

“Come lay with me Iz.” 

“W-What about your injuries?”

“You’ll lay near the windows so I can lay on my right side. Please.” You pleaded. “I am wounded and need the comfort of my lover-”

“Fine.” He chuckled lightly and joined you on the bed. He maneuvered himself to the side closest to the windows, then helped you lay down with him. His arms were carefully wrapped around your form, letting you place your injured leg above his. He took a deep breath in, taking in your everything; he felt instantly relaxed.

You yawed, and snuggled right under his chest, sleep coming quick despite having slept for most of the day. Izzy exhaled, and let sleep finally take over. Neither of you too had to exchange ‘I love you’s’, you both knew you each deeply cared for one another, more than anything else.

Twenty minutes or so have passed, and Stede and Edward decided to pop in to check on you both. Stede had to bite back an aww at the sight of his and Ed’s first-mates snuggled together. Before Stede could possibly ruin the moment, Ed grabbed him by the arm they both left to inform the crew what they saw.

#izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands imagine #izzy hands imagines #izz hands reader insert #our flag means death #our flag means death x reader #our flag means death imagines #our flag means death imagine #our flag means death reader insert #ofmd #ofmd x reader #ofmd reader insert #ofmd imagines #ofmd imagine #izzy hands x y/n #izzy hand x you #ofmd x y/n #ofmd x you #our flag means death x you #our flag means death x y/n

[mischievous-thunder]

Ah yes, the blissful opportunity to witness the affectionate touch of reassurance with a hint of protectiveness that we've all been reading about in fics

#our flag means death #ofmd #steade bonnet #edward blackbeard teach #blackbonnet #blacksteade #stedeward #imagine your otp #fanfiction ao3 #rhys darby and taika waititi #ofmd imagine #incorrect ofmd quotes #gay awakening #lgbtq representation #gay irl #funny dank otp memes #otp prompts #writing promt #otp writing meme #mischievous-thunder.tumblr.com

[izzystwat]

inspired by the one and only legendary niall horan ear imagine. this is 100% Izzy

#izzy hands #ofmd #ofmd izzy #ofmd meme #ofmd fanfic #ofmd imagine #imagine #ofmd crack #ofmd au #our flag meets death #our flag means death meme

[wolpertingerprompts]

Imagine the crew's reaction upon finding out that you're secretly a cat shapeshifter. (Especially Frenchie).

#fic prompt #fanfiction #prompt #prompt blog #fanfic #imagine #idea #fic #ao3 #fandom #ship #otp #writing #writing prompt #humor #reader insert #ofmd prompt #ofmd imagine #ofmd #shifter #shapeshifter #cat shifter

[frodo-of-the-nine-fingers]

imagine: jim catches you stealing some oranges from their family's land. they stab you

'that was hot' you say

'i know' they say 'wanna make out?'

you make out

#ofmd #ofmd crack #imagine #ofmd imagine

[hansoeii]

Do you think of me?

#I am not ready to witness these two longing for each other in season 2 it's gonna ruin me #stede writing love letters to ed while on his way to win him back #and ed stealing the wedding toppers and imagining marrying stede during quiet and vulnerable hours #yeah I'm very much not ready #these two are my favorite thing in the world #our flag means death #our flag means death fanart #our flag means death 2 #gay pirates #ofmd #ofmd 2 #stede bonnet #edward teach #ofmd fanart #ofmd 2 fanart #david jenkins #rhys darby #taika waititi #my art #fanart

[sunnibits]

okay wait wait wait hold the fuck up. I may very well be reading into this too much but like. this picture is from the very end of ep8 right,, ARE THEY FUCKING WEARING IZZY’S GLOVE?????? or at least mimicking it???? um????

#HELLO??? 🥺🥺🥺 #like. I may just be crazy. but I feel like since vico is such an izzy stan like… #that doesn’t seem like an insignificant costuming choice… #and they didn’t have the glove on BEFORE izzy died….. #if I’m right I’m actually going to cry oh my god #imagine… like aragorn wearing boromirs bracers… #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #jim #izzy hands #jim jimenez

[ridleymocki]

Ed tearing up over a love letter while distractedly strangling a guy to death is peak dark comedy to me guys, like this is the show, it was so funny and neither Ed nor I are perfect people in that moment but here we are

#it's called disparate response in perspectival imaginative engagement trust me on this #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd #edward teach #blackbonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd finale

[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

[saltpepperbeard]

me: UGH stupid ned low. it would have been so nice to see rhys & taika/ed & stede dance :( leslie jones: girl (gn) i got you

#OFMD #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD S2 #Taika Waititi #Rhys Darby #Edit #ofmd gifs #ofmdgifs #ofmdedit #ofmdsource #ofmdblog #ofmdaily #not TOGETHER but like you get it lol #AND LESLIE GETS //US// #again #she really just appeared and dropped an entire quarry of GEMS huh #like goodness GRACIOUS #also okay hsdjkhsdjkls #imagine them going to go slow dance #AND THEY JUST: DO THIS HSJKDDKLS #THE ENTIRE CREW WOULD JUST BE LIKE 🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍 #starts popping to la vie en rose idk

[douwatahima]

the theory that stede is writing his letter to ed on the back of the wanted poster here absolutely kills me because can you imagine seeing a poster with a drawing of your face made out to look much scarier than you actually are, with a list of your crimes, the reasons why people consider you a monster, underneath only to turn it over and find a lovingly handwritten note written by the only person who you felt ever really saw you that begins with the words "i love everything about you"

#tv: our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #i hope this post makes sense it's been sitting in my head for hours #also yeah i know that line might not even be from the letter yadda yadda yadda but can you IMAGINE???

[edsbacktattoo]

one of my favourite things about season 2 is 'you wear fine things well' 2.0. like that phrase means so much to us, the super sexy audience, so knowing that it means a lot to Ed AND Stede as well?? oh my god. it means enough to the both of them that when Ed says it, Stede immediately knows what he's getting at. like sure he's saying 'you wear fine things well' with his big baby cow eyes and his little kitty cat collar but what he means is, 'this was the moment i fell in love with you. and now i'm saying it back.' and they put that in the tv show that we, the super sexy audience, watched. fucking cinema.

#does this post make sense #sorry it's nine pm and i've just finished a coffee and im listening to fiona apple so you can imagine the high that i am riding #i also just finished writing the tolling bells so i'm an emotional wreck #i'm wallowing in my feelings this evening like a pig in mud #ouuuughghggh ofmd save me. save me ofmd. #ofmd #oh we thinkin?

[mischievous-thunder]

When you cannot help but allow yourself to be a classic example of gay disaster

#our flag means death #ofmd #stede bonnet #edward blackbeard teach #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #blacksteade #stedeward #ofmd imagine #incorrect ofmd quotes #otp prompts #writing promt #funny dank otp memes #rhys darby and taika waititi #lgbtq representation #gay irl #gay awakening #fanfiction ao3 #imagine your otp #mischievous-thunder.tumblr.com