Summary: The crew finds out about your “secret” relationship with Izzy. He assumes you wanted it quiet because he’s older and jaded. You let him know just how wrong he is.
It wasn’t exactly subtle.
Sure, you didn’t say anything about you and Izzy being together, but you didn’t not say anything either. There were no secret signals or behind-closed-door rendezvous—just an unspoken understanding between the two of you. A closeness that wasn’t for show but was always there. The way his shoulder brushed yours when you passed. The way your mug was always filled first when he made tea.
You’d thought the crew knew. Or maybe just didn’t care.
Until the morning Lucius caught you slipping out of Izzy’s cabin, boots in hand, hair mussed, shirt askew.
He didn’t scream, he howled.
“Oh my GOD—I knew it! I KNEW IT!”
You barely had time to blink before the others came pouring in.
“Wait, what’s happening?” Frenchie skidded in, Jim right behind him.
“They’re together!” Lucius shouted, pointing. “Them! Izzy and them!”
Roach, passing with a tray of biscuits, paused. “Took y’all long enough.”
Izzy appeared behind you, shirt halfway on, and let out a long-suffering groan.
“You’re all children.”
“Children who clocked your soft little glances a month ago,” Lucius singsonged, leaning on the railing. “Honestly, I thought you were just really into glaring at their ass.”
You glanced at Izzy, trying not to laugh at the red blooming in his ears.
“Alright,” he growled. “Enough.”
But it wasn’t enough, not for them. That day, and the next, the teasing didn’t stop. Every time you handed him a drink: “Aww, is that for your little murder husband?” Every time he didn’t snap at someone: “Ohhh, love’s made him weak!”
He gritted his teeth and bore it like a soldier, but you could feel it—how he started keeping a little distance. Speaking less. Sleeping on the edge of the bed like maybe he wasn’t supposed to be there after all.
So you found him in the quiet that evening, sitting below deck in the corner he always haunted when he needed to be left alone.
He didn’t look up when you sat beside him.
“You mad?” you asked softly.
“No.”
“You’re pouting.”
“I don’t pout.”
You paused. “You are mad.”
“I just…” He sighed, looking anywhere but at you. “Thought you didn’t want them to know."
Your head tilted. “Why would you think that?”
Izzy set down the whetstone he’d been aimlessly turning in his hands. “Because I’m not someone people show off. Not like Stede with Ed. Or anyone, really. I’m just—me.”
You let the silence sit for a moment, then leaned in.
“Izzy,” you said, “I don’t show you off because I’m not proud—I don’t show you off because I have you. You’re not a trophy. You’re mine.”
He finally looked at you, eyes guarded.
“And if I thought for one second you didn’t want to be known?” you added. “I’d still choose you. Quiet or loud. But don’t ever think I’m ashamed of you.”
He blinked hard and looked down, jaw clenched. “You deserve someone easier.”
“Probably,” you said with a grin, “but then I’d miss out on the really fun part where I get to kiss the grumpiest man on the ship.”
That got him. A snort, short and sharp.
Then your hand found his. “You’re not a secret, Iz. You’re just… ours.”
And just as you leaned in, the trapdoor creaked open.
“I knew it,” Lucius whispered. “You’re in love, you old bastard.”
could i request an izzy x reader where they’re cleaning each other up after a raid? all fluff and falling asleep together
Summary: Izzy and reader clean up after a raid
Relationships: Izzy x reader
Word count: 800+
Warnings: Mentions of injury and pirate medical care
“Hold still you twat,” Izzy chastices as you squirm away from his attempt to clean up the cut on your forehead.
“Can’t help it, stings.” You pout.
Izzy rolls his eyes with a small smile on his face, “it’s gonna sting love it’s pure alcohol, just hold still.”
You manage to stay still just long enough for Izzy to clean your cut, you’ll never get used to that deep sting that sets your teeth on edge.
Izzy moves away slightly to inspect the wound, “shouldn’t need stitches luckily but it might scar m’afraid.”
“Will I still look hot?” you tease, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend.
“Shut up,” he grumbles as he swats at you playfully. “How did you even get that cut anyway?”
You shrug, “just some idiot, he got a bit overexcited with his knife, waving it around like a fucking magic wand.”
You notice his frown, touched by how protective he is of you, as you are of him. But you both know that you can more than handle yourself. Still it’s nice to have someone care about you so much, a familiar feeling since you joined The Revenge.
“Don’t worry babe, I stabbed him straight in the chest.”
“That’s my y/n.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head. “Just be careful though okay, I can’t-“ He doesn’t finish that sentence, he doesn’t need to, I cant lose you. He turns around before you can see the glassiness in his eyes.
Although you’re both more than aware of the dangerous lifestyle you’ve both found yourself in, it can be hard to watch your loved one be put in danger so often, and it definitely never gets any easier.
It’s only now when his back is to you that you see the blood soaking into his shirt. You move to lift the shirt up before he can stop you, revealing a large gash on his right side.
“You idiot, you were worrying about a teeny little cut on my forehead when you’re walking around with this.”
Izzy looks down at the cut as if he’d forgotten it was even there, “It’s fine.”
“No it’s not fine, come sit down.” You usher him back to the bed you were both previously sitting on so you can have a better look at the injury.
“You really don’t need to make a fuss.” Izzy grumbles.
“Like how you didn’t make a fuss about my head?”
Izzy doesn’t answer that, you take it as a go ahead to have a closer look at the wound. It’s quite a deep cut, looks like it’ll definitely need stitches.
“Were you just gonna wait until you bled out?” You ask him.
“Stop being so dramatic, I wasn’t gonna bleed out. I would’ve had Roach look at it later.” When he’d made sure you were okay he didn’t add.
You would chastise him for putting everyone else first but you know he takes his role as First Mate incredibly seriously, something you’ve always admired about him. Instead you just bite your tongue and go get Roach to help fix him up.
You watch as Roach tends to Izzy, the latter keeping a stoic expression as he’s stitched up. You know it’s for your benefit, he doesn’t want to worry you.
“All done, light duties only for the next few days, don’t want you to pop those stitches.” Roach says.
You thank Roach, he gives you a quick nod in return before leaving you and Izzy to it.
“I’m just gonna go check on the crew.” Izzy announces as he stands from his chair.
“Uh uh no you don’t,” you reply, guiding him to the bed instead.
“Roach said I could still do light duties.” Izzy argues.
“The crew will be fine for one evening, just lie down and relax with me.”
Izzy knew there was no point arguing with you, and truthfully he didn’t really want to, he was feeling kinda sore and always enjoys relaxing with you. He lays on his uninjured side, leaving room for you to snuggle in beside him.
You lay down beside him, allowing him to pull you closer until you’re nestled against his chest, one of your favourite places to be. You take in his scent as you lay there, your eyes fluttering closed as you let the day melt away.
Tomorrow’s another day, but tonight you’ll enjoy laying next to the man you love knowing that you’ve both survived another day.
“Goodnight, Israel.” You whisper, but you’re only met with a soft snore.
You smile to yourself, delighted that he feels so safe in your presence, just as you feel safe in his. You fall asleep that night knowing that you would do anything for this man, and no doubt in your mind that he would do the same.
warnings: blood, a gunshot wound, slight alcohol use
opening: A medic, you get shot in a crossfire. It’s only after things have settled a little that anyone has time to notice you. No one but you are used to removing bullets, so obviously the crew chose the next most experienced pirate to help you with your instructions. Izzy.
AN// Reader can be any gender! I finally started watching this series, after putting it off for so long and oh my god do I love this man more than life itself. I would die for him. Anyway, sorry if this is a little ooc, I’m learning how to write for him ! Requests for him would also be lovely, I have so many ideas that I don’t even know what to write :D
“What kind of a moron gets shot…”
The feeling of rain hitting your face kept you to your senses, additional moisture to the already wet wooden deck you were laying on. At least you had made it back, but that did not remove the fact that someone from the other ship had gotten a good shot at your thigh. For that reason, you didn't mind the wet fabric sticking to your skin. The waves of pain radiating from your thigh were enough to keep your mind from thinking of anything else.
Your body curled up a little, hands going to hold the place of the wound on their own, or at least that’s what it had felt like. Like your body was moving on its own. There wasn’t much of a thought process happening in your mind, though it felt like you should have known what to do. You’d removed more than one bullet in your time, and it wasn’t a rare procedure to perform for you. But never could have you guessed the amount of pain a bullet wound caused. You’d only ever helped someone else and seen them try their best to stay still for your sake. As much as you had hoped these thoughts would have distracted you from the pain, they didn’t. The pain was still raging, making you groan and grunt silently against the deck. Or at least what you thought had been quietly up until voices became audible around you. They’d been there before as well, but they’d become somehow louder by now. Like the people that sounded further away were now closer. The crew must have noticed something was wrong.
You opened your eyes, still curled up on the deck. Most of the crew were there, standing near you. From your perspective and what was left of your vision, they seemed concerned. But probably rightly so. Most of them had become quiet, only light chatter among them. “Well, fucking someone help me.” You growled, allowing the words to come out and going back to gritting your teeth straight after. The chatter got louder for a moment before someone was pushed out from the group. By the sound of his voice, you identified him quite easily. The first mate of Blackbeard’s, Izzy. He did not sound keen on doing this, insisting for someone else to do it before accepting his fate. But you and mostly everyone else in the crew seemed to agree on him being the most experienced for this, after you.
You knew their first idea would have been to just cut off the whole leg, but for the amount of times you’d helped them you were hoping they’d see this as owing it to you and actually helping.
Your vision was getting a little more blurry, not badly but enough to make things a lot more confusing. You tried to keep a straight head, knowing you’d have to assist Izzy while he got the bullet out. While these thoughts were running through your mind, two of the crew members of which you hadn’t seen who carried your form to the lower decks. No more of the rain, you thought. They cleared a table, and by the sound of it they must have just sweeped the items on it to the floor and placed you on the smooth surface instead.
There was a moment of silence before through your haze you could hear Izzy’s voice clearly. “Well, fuck off? No need for an audience.” He said, and by the sound of it the people previously there made their way back up. “Cut the…the pant leg.” You said, not wanting to waste any more time. Izzy looked at you, doing as you said but with slight hesitation. “How does a medic manage to get shot?” The first man asked in a voice you wanted to believe was annoyance, trying not to find a hint of worry from his voice. You didn’t want to imagine a man worried for your life trying to save it. “Guess the bullets couldn’t resist a…a checkup.” You took a quick breath, gritting your teeth as the fabric was pulled off from over the wound. Izzy didn’t say anything to that, perhaps it had been a bad time to joke either way. You didn’t have time to waste, for anything from the bullet could leak to your bloodstream if you kept stalling. “T-take off yer belt-” You had to take a breather before continuing, but that was enough for Izzy to give you a dirty look, which you were glad you couldn’t see properly through the slight blur. “And wrap it a little higher from the wound…” You finished the sentence, trying to stay still on the table. “Gathered that much.” He said, voice still stern as he undid his belt and wrapped it tightly around your thigh. “Get yer knife…and dig..dig the bastard out.” You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment as you braced yourself for what was about to come.
The sound of Izzy taking out a knife from his belt opened your eyes once more. You took a weak hold of his wrist before the first mate was able to start the process. “If I lose consciousness after…take the fabric you removed and..and use it to close up the wound after cleaning with rum…” You instructed him before your hand let loose from his wrist. His eyes were on you, you could feel it. Yet, he did not say a word. It worried you, but you didn’t want to tell him that. You wanted to think that he didn’t care. As many times as you had spent time with him, he did not care for you. Maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed talking to you from time to time.
You took a hold of the edge of the table, which was worth it. Because as soon as Izzy had dug the knife into the wound you screeched. Using the palm of your hand to cover the rest of the horrendous noises leaving you, feeling hot tears push their way through and fall down the sides of your face. The gritting of your teeth helped, somewhat. The feeling of the blade hitting the bullet sent a mix of shivers along with waves of pain through your body.
You tolerated it for a while, in a way proud of yourself for that, this being the first time a bullet was being removed from you. Though, that did not last long.
The dim lights in the lower deck began to seem darker, and your body wasn’t contorting itself the same way as before. In a way you felt more relaxed this way, though the darkness that had started to slowly surround you was something you didn’t look forward to. A faint sound of the bullet hitting the wooden flooring as the knife left your body was the last thing you heard. Your consciousness faded away, leaving Izzy alone with bloodied hands and a mess on the table.
His gaze shook a little, but he stood still at the table. Thanking whoever had left a bottle of rum in the lower deck. Izzy took a hold of the brown bottle and took a swig from it himself. With a second to think, he poured the liquid from the bottle straight onto the wound. It felt odd not to hear you instruct him, not that he needed it anymore. But you being so silent, seemingly dead to anyone else's eye who might have walked past, it shook him a little. As many people as he had killed and seen dead, none of them had affected him this way. The thoughts of your death filled his mind for a brief second, before the first mate shook them away. He wasn’t sure how much to pour, stopping eventually. He thought you might like the rest of it once you woke up. In his experience, rum was good at numbing feelings. Just what pain was, only a feeling.
Izzy wrapped the wound best he could, leaving the belt on. You hadn’t told him what to do with it after, and that had only now occurred to him. As much as his duties would have commanded for him to leave you with the rest of the crew, he did not want for you to wake up in the noise and smell that was the crew’s quarters. Was what he told himself, not being able to ask for your opinion.
He might have not been the tallest man on deck, but that did not mean he was weak in any way. He picked you up easily, carrying you to his quarters. Barely a spot for sleeping fit there, but he managed.
The first mate laid your still form onto the small bed, seating himself onto a box next to it. His eyes stayed on the bed for some time before a sigh left his lungs, turning his eyes to his hands. He placed them over his face for a while, the burning feeling of tears trying to push through all too familiar at this point. They never truly fell down, so it did not count as crying for him. A pirate didn't cry.
So he sat there, the held-back tears reddening his eyes a little as he leaned on the wall behind him and stared at the other in front of him, keeping his gaze up. He felt conflicted, more so than usual. He hadn’t thought of you, not of how much he seemed to care. Sure, the two of you had spent an odd amount of time together, but you preferred to be alone or at least at the sidelines, so did he. So, for long it had been a coincidence that you bumped in together. And during those times you spent together were almost enough to make him feel alive again. But when you didn’t, was when he truly felt lonely. And so he did now, now when you were unconscious.
A sharp breath drawn by you caught his attention back. The end of it started sounding more like a hiss than anything else. Your eyes tried to open slowly, but the sheering pain forced them to snap open with yet another hiss. You curled up on the bed before your eyes landed on Izzy. His mouth was slightly agape, but soon realised to hand you the bottle from earlier which you gladly accepted. After a long swig you handed it back to him, hand shaking ever so slightly. Eyes focusing on him now, vision back to what you remembered as normal. Even with Izzy keeping his gaze quite low, you could see the slight tint of red in his eyes. The first mate hadn’t said anything yet, so you decided to break the silence. “Have you been crying?” Came out rustier than intended, but the teasing tone of voice was still clear somewhere in there. Izzy’s jaw tightened, but he must have backed away from what he wanted to say. “Sod off.” He looked away for a moment, expression much softer after from what you could tell. Though, he seemed stiff. Like he was shaken in a way you’d never seen him before. “Izzy-” You sighed, not sure what to say to him, so instead you thought of something else. His other hand was resting on the edge of the bed. Expecting him to pull away at the very least, you placed your hand on his, but he didn’t. He allowed your slightly warmer, shaky palm to warm his colder hand, badly wiped away blood dried on it. “Thank you.” You said silently, not to disturb the oddly peaceful silence that had formed from the slightest of connections. Izzy turned to you, moving his hand further on the bed, not adding anything to that. The touch was a thank you enough, more than enough to him.
Maybe reader is simply very close to someone on the ship and Izzy thinks they are dating, or reader's ex shows up and Izzy (since his only other time he was in love, that we know of, it was the unrequired disaster with Ed) figures reader will leave him and the crew for this twat and he keeps being a grumpy ass
These are just vague ideas, honestly there is so little Izzy/reader that I am happy with whatever I can get
This request was written super well, and I loved the idea. <3
Izzy Hands X Reader (GN)
Jealousy, Jealousy.
Masterlist
Your gaze lingered on the shoreline, soaking in the familiar sights, as The Revenge sailed closer to the place you once called home. It had been years since you last set foot on the shore where you grew up. Though you no longer had family there, the nostalgia stirred excitement within you. As you mentally compiled a list of your favorite places to share with the crew during shore leave, a flicker of movement caught your eye. Across the deck, Izzy’s gaze found yours, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. With a nervous smile, you returned his gaze. There was an unexplainable anticipation to reveal the place you once called home to Izzy, a desire for him to truly understand you, even though nothing romantic had ever happened between you.
The longing to be closer to Izzy was a secret you had only shared one drunken night with Olu, Jim, and Archie. After a few too many swigs of rum, you let your desire slip, expecting ridicule or disbelief. Jim’s immediate reaction was to dismiss the idea as pure idiocy, while Archie, always one to revel in chaos, egged you on, perhaps sensing the potential for drama. Yet, it was Olu who offered the most genuine support, his caring nature shining through in that moment, as it always did. All three of your friends showed their support in distinct ways, each with your best interests at heart.
You made your way towards Izzy, who stood at the edge of the ship, his gaze fixed on the tiny town ahead. His grip on the boat’s railing was steady, his expression unreadable as always. As you approached him and settled beside him, you couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts occupied his mind. With an awkward smile, you greeted him, resting your arms against the rail, trying to summon the courage to start a conversation.
“Hey, Izzy,” you began, lightly tapping the wood beneath your fingers. “The crew’s planning to hit a bar tonight. You should come with us.”
“The whole crew?” You observed as Izzy’s expression tightened, you assumed he was envisioning the lively chaos that usually came with spending an evening with Stede Bonnet’s crew.
“I think even Stede and Ed are coming,” you added, unsure whether this news would be received positively or negatively by Izzy.
“Someone has to stay with the ship.” he remarked, you observed as Izzy turned abruptly, leaving you behind, though not without a moment of hesitation. He pivoted back to face you, his expression hinting at an unspoken urgency. “Thank you for inviting me.” he grumbled, before taking off once more. You stared off into his direction, feeling defeated, you could feel your shoulders slink down.
“Eso fue embarazoso” Jim whispered, wrapping their arm around you teasingly.
“Vete a la mierde” you retorted playfully, but as you rested your forehead on the side of the ship, a sense of embarrassment washed over you.
“It’s him that’s embarrassing, not you,” Jim reassured with an eye roll, yanking your arm gently to lead you towards the main deck where more members of the crew were waiting to go ashore.
The night took a turn for the better once the familiar sights of home surrounded you, leaving your interaction with Izzy a distant memory back on the boat. Your favorite bar looked exactly as you remembered, with its simple decor and the same cheap rum. Halfway through the night, your gaze caught a familiar face across the crowded bar - your childhood sweetheart, Samuel. He seemed almost surreal as memories from the past flooded your mind, but the love you once felt for him now felt like a distant echo of someone you used to be. It was still a comforting sight to see his face, and the remainder of the night, he stayed by your side, engaging with the crew.
He bought everyone drinks, eagerly listened to Stede’s tales of piracy, and repeatedly expressed his joy at seeing you again throughout the night. His presence brought a sense of relief, making home truly feel like home. Seeing him transported you back to your younger days when everything seemed simpler. You and Sam had been so young when you were together, and although relationships like that often don’t last, your parting had been amicable. You were both heading in different directions - the sea calling you while Sam seemed content to stay rooted at home.
In the end, it had been a successful night. Despite Izzy’s rejection weighing heavily on your mind, Sam’s presence provided a temporary distraction. The lively atmosphere of the bar, coupled with the antics of the rest of the crew, kept you on your toes. Sam left with a promise to find you the next night, and the crew set off back to the ship, the night’s events lingering in the air as they made their way home. As you walked back to the ship, Jim’s arm slipped around you, while they gave you a knowing gaze.
“No,” you interjected, feeling the weight of their unspoken question.
“I didn’t say anything.” Jim’s arm still draped comfortingly over your shoulder.
Archie caught up on your other side. “I like him,” she stated simply, lightly punching your arm.
“Leave it, you two,” Olu laughed from behind.
“It was good to see him,” you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “But we’re only here for a couple days.”
You and the crew returned to the ship, your arm linked with Olu’s as you strolled along, pointing out different buildings and sharing stories from your childhood. Though a part of you wondered what Izzy had been up to tonight, being with the crew always lifted your spirits.
⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓
Izzy had spent the entire night pacing the ship, consumed by curiosity about what the crew was up to ashore, yet lacking the courage to join them. He cursed himself for being such a fucking coward, especially when it came to you. After everything that had happened with Edward, he had vowed to guard his heart against developing feelings for anyone, if he could help it. But slowly, without him realizing, you had managed to sneak your way into his heart, leaving him uncertain of what to do next. He had never been good at this kind of thing.
You had extended the invitation to spend time together, even if the entire crew would be there. Izzy regretted his hesitation and that he declined your offer. Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling that you were only including him out of kindness. He didn’t particularly enjoy big group gatherings, rowdy drinking, or any of the activities that typically accompanied shore leave. For him, it was much simpler to focus on getting a job done. Even still, he felt like he had made a mistake.
The next morning, Izzy found himself in the captain’s quarters, attempting to gather information about the day’s plans while absentmindedly running his finger through the flame of one of Stede’s candles. Stede calmly sipped on a cup of tea, nibbling on his breakfast, while Edward sat beside him, his fingers lightly tracing over Stede’s.
“You missed a fun night out, Iz,” Edward remarked with a smile, his fingers now intertwined with Stede’s. “You should come tonight.”
“Samuel was lovely. Wasn’t he, Ed?” Stede replied, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
“Yeah. He was,” Edward answered plainly, a small smile directed at Stede, though Izzy noticed the nervous glance Edward shot in his direction.
“Who the fuck is Samuel?” Izzy huffed, curious about Edward’s strange reaction.
As Stede explained that Samuel was your childhood sweetheart, Izzy’s lips tightened into a thin line, feeling a surge of heat rising from his chest. He sensed Edward’s eyes fixed on him and watched as Edward squeezed Stede’s hand, attempting to swiftly change the subject. Part of Izzy was thankful he wasn’t there, because the mere thought of you with someone else made his blood boil, yet having to imagine it was equally unpleasant.
“Like I said,” Edward whispered after Stede had finished, giving Izzy an encouraging glance, “you should come tonight, Iz.”
“Fine,” Izzy grumbled.
As the crew walked through the city, Izzy found himself reluctantly trailing towards the back of the group, keeping a watchful eye on you as you walked alongside Olu. Your gaze met his when you glanced back, offering a warm smile and a pat on Olu’s arm before halting in your tracks. You waited until Izzy caught up, falling into step beside him.
“I’m glad you’re coming tonight, Iz.”
Izzy felt your fingers lightly squeeze his arm. Despite trying to maintain a stoic position, Izzy felt his heart swell at your touch.
Izzy felt a small smile spread across his face. “Me too,” he replied nervously. Walking beside you, and feeling your small touch, had already made coming out tonight worth it.
At the table in the bar, you stayed by his side, engaging in conversation with him, Ed, and Stede. As the night progressed, Izzy found himself pleasantly surprised by how at ease he felt in your company. Your laughter was infectious, and the warmth in your eyes made him forget about his earlier hesitations. With each passing moment, Izzy found himself opening up, letting down the walls he had built around himself. His expression shifted abruptly as the crew began calling out Samuel’s name. A tightness crept into his features, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the sight of the unwelcome presence.
Izzy’s glare intensified as Samuel glided over and smoothly positioned himself next to you, his arm casually draping around your shoulders and drawing you closer. Izzy scrutinized your expression, noting the awkward smile that appeared on your lips.
“Samuel, this is Israel Hands, the first mate,” you gently introduced, directing your gaze towards Izzy.
Samuel extended his hand for a handshake, but Izzy only grunted in response, his body tensing with a mixture of annoyance and rage. Izzy quickly stood up, retreating to the bar and leaving the crew behind.
After a few minutes, Izzy felt someone join him and looked over to see you peering curiously at him.
“You okay, Iz?” you whispered.
“Fuck off.”
Izzy turned, leaning on the bar, to face the table and his crew. After glaring at Samuel for a moment, he noticed you were still standing there next to him.
“He seems like a twat,” Izzy hissed towards you.
He saw a small frown beginning to form on your face, but he felt his anger fueling him.
“You could give him a chance at least,” you said quietly.
Izzy only replied with a snort.
“He’s a good man. He cares about me” Izzy heard the anger beginning to rise in your voice. “He asked me to stay here with him.”
“Maybe you should,” Izzy shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant, but inside, he was consumed by panic. The mere thought of losing you from the ship fueled his hatred towards Samuel even more.
“You think I should stay here?” you asked, your tone tinged with uncertainty.
“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Izzy hissed back.
Izzy watched with a sinking feeling as tears seemed to form in your eyes, and you quickly turned away from him, heading back to the table. Instant regret flooded through him as he watched you from afar. He had pushed you away again, right into the arms of some twat named Samuel.
Izzy noticed Jim glaring at him from across the room, a clear indication of disapproval on their face. Before long, Ed joined Izzy by his side, patting his shoulder in a gesture of support.
“Hey, Iz,” Ed whispered, his expression clouded with concern. When Izzy made no move to speak, Edward persisted. “You’ve got to tell them how you feel. Talk it through. Stop being a dick.”
Izzy left the bar as quickly as he could, but Edward’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind. The mere thought of you leaving, staying here with another man, and no longer being on The Revenge made him feel sick to his stomach. When he finally reached the ship, he paced back and forth on the deck, his mind consumed by imaginary conversations with you. He desperately searched for something he could say to make you stay.
⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓
Tonight, as you walked back to the ship with the group, you remained silent, keeping to yourself instead of engaging in conversation with the group. You had made a decision earlier, telling Samuel that you were leaving with The Revenge. He had been understanding, as always, making goodbye feel harder. You had never entertained the idea of staying behind, not when you had finally found a new family on your ship. The truth was, you had only mentioned it to Izzy to gauge his reaction, to see if he cared enough to ask you to stay. But it was painfully obvious that he didn’t.
As you and the crew boarded the ship, you felt a soft grasp around your arm, gently leading you to the back of the ship. Turning, you saw that the grasp belonged to Izzy. Curiosity piqued, you followed him silently as he led you away from the group. Once you reached your destination, you and Izzy stared at each other for a moment, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Izzy appeared lost, unsure of what to say next. As the moment stretched into a long silence, you opened your mouth, intending to break the tension, but before you could speak, Izzy quickly began to talk.
“Don’t leave,” Izzy’s words pierced the silence, catching you off guard.
“What?”
“Don’t leave. I know I don’t have any right to ask you to stay, but don’t stay with that fucking twat.” Izzy’s gaze bore into yours, his eyes filled with intensity, almost pleading with you to reconsider.
“Why?” you whispered.
“Samuel might care about you, but there are people here who care about you more.” Izzy whispered back, his voice vulnerable as he nervously tugged at the ring around his neck.
“Like who?” The anticipation built within you, as you silently hoped he would say himself.
“Olu, Jim, Archie… the whole crew,” Izzy grumbled, his eyes shifting nervously towards the floor.
“Do you care about me more?” you asked sweetly, hoping to coax Izzy into meeting your eyes. “Because I care about you.”
At your words, Izzy’s gaze quickly met yours, a flicker of emotion dancing in his eyes. Then, slowly but steadily, Izzy’s features softened, his guard melting away as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. “I care about you more than that twat,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
“I’m not leaving, Iz,” you smiled warmly towards him, relief flooding through you. “I don’t know what I would do without the crew, without you.”
You and Izzy gazed at each other for a moment, the warmth of his touch lingering on your cheeks. Suddenly, a smirk flashed across your face as you finally understood what had been weighing on Izzy’s mind.
“You were jealous,” you teased, a knowing smile dancing on your lips.
“Fuck off,” Izzy replied, but you could see a smile stretching across his face, his attempt to maintain a stern facade failing.
“You like me,” you whispered, your eyes tracing his lips with a playful glint.
Izzy interrupted your playful banter with his lips, silencing your teasing words with a kiss filled with longing and desire. His lips were soft yet demanding against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
“Wooo,” you heard Archie’s voice echo across the deck. “About time.”
The sound of her voice broke the spell, and you and Izzy turned to see the rest of the crew watching with amused grins. It was clear that your moment had not gone unnoticed, and a chorus of cheers and whistles erupted from the gathered crew members. You noticed Edward give a small wink to Izzy, a knowing look passing between them.
“I should make you jealous more often,” you giggled, the playful tone in your voice carrying a hint of mischief.
Izzy only rolled his eyes at this comment, unable to suppress a fond smile as he pulled you in again for another tender kiss.
freedom [i won’t let you down] — izzy hands x masc!reader
pairing: izzy hands x amab!masc!reader
word count: 2k
category: smut & fluff
tags: top izzy, bottom reader, established relationship, semi-public fvcking, p in a, creamp1e, slight glove kink, slight emotional hurt comfort, miscommunication, reader is stressed, izzy hands needs a hug, insecure izzy hands, izzy hands is soft for the reader, use of the word c0ck
summary: the crew heard your ‘session’ with izzy, and now you’re stressed because he wants to keep the two of you a secret.
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
“Shhh… Shh..”
Izzy’s gloved hand clamps over your mouth, though it does little to muffle the wanton moans that spill out against the supple black leather. He growls against your neck, the short hairs of his beard scratching against the soft flesh of your throat and making you purr with need.
“Shh..” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and presses a sweet kiss there — a stark contrast to the harsh, needy slap of his hips against yours. “Can’t let anyone hear us, little bird. You know that. Be nice and quiet for me, now…”
You whine into his hand as your body jolts with each forceful thrust. It isn’t often he takes control, but Calypso, when he does; he does.
“I know… I know… It’s just too good, hm?” There is a clear hint of smugness in his tone as his hot breath fans against your ear. Usually you’d want to smack the smug smirk off his face, but now just the sound of pride in his voice makes your tip leak. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Nothing ever does. He swipes a bead of pre onto his glove, making you whimper as you rub your cock against the leather, before he brings it to your mouth and shoves it past your lips. “Have a taste of yourself.”
A choked groan surrounds the clothed digit pushed into your mouth and you swirl your tongue around it. Mostly you just taste the dull leather of the glove, but there is a salty essence to it that makes you throb against your own stomach.
“Good boy,” Izzy grunts, pushing at your lower back with his free hand to make you arch more as he drives into you. His hand leaves your mouth and grabs at your hip, dragging you harder into his every thrust. “That’s it.. Takin’ my cock so well…”
He’s close, and you can tell. He always gets the same way when he’s the one fucking you. His muffled grunts and groans turn into shaky gasps that fall past parted lips, each buck of his hips starts to become sloppy and uncontrolled. Not to mention his hands wander, groping at every bit of skin he can reach like it’s his job.
“F-Fuuck.. Take that cock.. Good boy..” He pants. You smack back into him, meeting him halfway every time he impales you on his length. He always loves it when you do that, and this time is no different as it almost immediately pushes him over the edge. A few stuttering snaps of his hips later, he groans and buries himself all the way inside, his cock twitching as he pulses his come inside you.
His hand immediately slips down to wrap around your length and stroke you fast. His gloved fist gives you an almost unbearable amount of friction that has you coming all over his fingers after a few pumps, like some blushing virgin. Your whimpers turn into satisfied little sighs as he plants gentle kisses on your shoulder, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into your hip.
“Fuck, you’re so good. Feel alright?” He whispers and gives your ass a little smack with the back of his hand.
“Yeah,” You huff out a fond laugh, brushing away the bead of sweat gathering on your brow as you straighten up from where you’re bent over and reluctantly pull him out of you. You groan as his softening cock slides out, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, and watch with a pout as he tucks himself back into his pants. If it was up to you, you’d definitely be going another round right now.
A grateful hum leaves you as he helps you back into your black linen shirt and yanks your leather trousers up around your hips. You can’t help but wince as your aching cock rubs against the fabric, biting back a tiny whimper. “Think Stede knows we’ve been gone?”
“Nah,” Izzy scoffs and shamelessly licks your leftover come from his glove. The sight alone sends another bolt of need straight through you, and it’s a struggle to keep your boots rooted to the floor and not to pounce on him all over again. “Bonnet wouldn’t notice a cannon ball if it wasn’t shoved up his—“
“Now,” You scold playfully and reach over to pinch at his arm. “Be nice.”
“No,” Izzy returns simply, wrapping his fingers around the crook of your elbow and tugging you away from the conveniently set up crescent of barrels.
Trying to get Izzy to be a little nicer to people was proving to be… a challenge, that’s for sure. You’ve managed to get him to be nice to you, at least.
Most of the time.
When the two of you emerge on deck and the blistering sun beats down on your faces, Izzy lets his hand fall from your arm. You fight the urge to complain at the loss of contact, especially when his come is still buried deep in your ass and your head is swimming from your orgasm. All you want right now is to cling to him. But you know why you can’t.
He hasn’t said it outright, but it’s obvious Izzy doesn’t want the crew to know about… Whatever is going on between the two of you.
It makes your heart sting just a little bit, but you manage to put your own desire to be public with your attachment aside, in favour of keeping him in his comfort zone. It’s clear he feels safe in your company, and there’s no way in hell you want to do anything to ruin that.
“Alright?” Wee John throws a knowing smirk in your direction as you step away from Izzy to flop down beside him. “Took a while checking the oranges.”
“Mm. Wanted to be thorough after last time,” You give a halfhearted mumble and roll up the billowing sleeves of your shirt until they rest around your elbows. Huffing out a sigh and fanning yourself with your hand, you grumble, “Hot today, isn’t it?”
“Definitely sounded hot. You’ve got a bit of somethin’ on your mouth, by the way.” Wee John gestures to the general area of his own lips.
“What?” You squeak, choking on your saliva upon hearing the accusatory tone in his voice
Wee John tips his head back and lets out a delighted cackle as his large palm smacks at your back. “Oh, don’t act all coy. We all heard you.”
“All of you?” You manage to get out once you’re finished choking on your spit. You throw a glance around the deck at the rest of your crewmates and, sure enough, they’re all staring. And they all look as if they know exactly what you’ve been up to. “Shit.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. Everyone needs to blow off some steam. But… Izzy the Spewer? Really?” Wee John snorts, judgement ringing clear in his tone.
“Calypso help me,” You mumble and bury your flushed face in your hands, pointedly ignoring the sound of Wee John snickering beside you.
Izzy’s going to be so mad.
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
Dinner is about as awkward as you anticipated.
The others sneak little glances at you, thinking they’re being subtle about the way they look you up and down. As soon as you meet their gazes, they suddenly look away and clear their throats. There is a deafening silence draped over the tables, one that you can’t quite take anymore after about ten minutes of it. Muttering a string of curses under your breath, you suddenly stand from the table and abandon your plate, leaving the eating area to head back up on deck.
The walk up the steps seems to take an eternity as guilt eats away at you, tugging at your heartstrings as your mind screams at you; Izzy will be pissed if he finds out that people know. He won’t want you anymore. He’ll leave you.
You make a beeline for the captain’s quarters, where you know Izzy is eating with Ed and Stede — much to his disdain. Your knuckles rap twice against the door in a sharp knock. There is some grumbling and the scrape of a chair against the floor from inside, before Izzy yanks the door open.
“What—“ The venomous spit of a word dies on his tongue when he sees you standing there, and his fierce expression softens. “Oh… I thought you were eatin’ with the others?”
You can’t take it. How are you supposed to make small talk when you feel like you might throw up at any given moment?
“Everyone knows that we fucked,” You blurt out. “And I think they know that we do it often.”
Izzy’s whole body tenses, his shoulders forming a tight line as his jaw goes rigid. “Hm?”
“I’m sorry,” You whisper desperately. “I know you didn’t want anyone to know about us—“
Izzy’s thick brows knit together into a deep frown and he steps out on deck with you, pulling the door to the captain’s quarters shut behind him. “Hey… That isn’t true.”
All you can do in response for a second is frown right back at him. It isn’t true? But he’s been so secretive since your first time together, always creeping around with you and trying to keep you quiet…
“But—“
“I just,” He pauses to puff out a deep sigh and rub his fingertips over his beard. “I don’t wan’ you to be embarrassed. With me.”
“Embarrassed?” You let out a soft breath, your shoulders sagging from their tense line around your jaw. “Why would I be embarrassed?”
“Come on,” Izzy scoffs weakly, his hand moving to scratch at the nape of his neck. “We both know ‘m not the most desirable of partners. The crew’ve probably been takin’ the piss all day. You’re stunnin’, and I’m...”
“Don’t care what the crew think,” You murmur and take a few steps closer to him, until your bodies are almost pressed together. “I love being with you. I think you’re desirable. I think you’re stunning. And only Wee John made fun. Think the others are too scared of being screamed at by you.”
“You like bein’ with me?” Izzy mumbles. He shifts almost uncomfortably and rests his free hand on your cheek, his touch incredibly gentle as the digits brush against your cheekbone. “You mean it?”
“Yeah, Iz,” You whisper and lean into his hand with a content sigh. “I mean it. You’re perfect to me. I couldn’t ask for anyone else to call mine. I don’t think you realise how much I… How much you mean to me.”
A shaky gasp leaves Izzy’s parted lips and he presses closer still, resting his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “Shit. You make my heart hurt when you say things like that. Damn you, man.”
“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.”
“Yes, boss,” Izzy huffs and uses his hand on your cheek to pull you closer, letting his lips slide against yours in a tender kiss. You’re no stranger to sweet affection from him, but it still makes you melt every damn time. Especially when you’re already overwhelmed with relief and pure love for him.
The sudden cacophony of wolf whistles and cheers from behind you makes you yelp and almost jump out of your skin. You whirl around to find the whole crew — sans the captains — watching the pair of you with grins on their faces.
“We knew you were boinking!” Frenchie shouts with glee.
Izzy begins to growl, probably about to curse them out and give them week long punishments, but you shush him and brush your fingers over his beard. “Shhh. Just let them have their moment, and they’ll get over it by tomorrow,” You snicker. It’s true, and you can see that knowledge settling in his eyes. The crew don’t exactly have the best attention spans.
“Fine,” Izzy snarls, and he’s swarmed in an instant.
As the crew surround the pair of you, poor Izzy is subjected to a series of questions — who’s on top? how long has it been going on? will Stede marry the two of you? why not? — and he looks ready to chuck himself overboard at any moment. But even amongst the chaos and the barrage of questions being tossed his way, you notice him looking back at you once or twice with a soft look of pure adoration glimmering in his eyes.
And you watch him in return with a matching expression.
This went better than you could have ever expected.
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.
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.)
