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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago

Text

Supernova

A/N: *sigh* here we are again simping over a man I shouldn't be. Oh well.

Summary: Imprisoned in deep space, Ettore discovers an old flame still burns as bright. And hurts just as much. NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings under the cut~ | Word Count: 5.4k~ | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of sexual related crimes, cursing, choking, Ettore being a simp, masturbation, oral (m receiving), rough sex, biting, face slapping, hair pulling, fingering, pussy slapping, mouth fuccin, swallowing

Of all the fucking people to see on this ship.

He’d have picked anyone else, to be honest. Any other rat-faced, intemperate bitch to spend the rest of his miserable young life with. To wait out his days ‘til, eventually, they’d all die. He could deal with the other female prisoners, it’s not like all of the women on the ship were that bad to look at. Just most of them. Crime had done a number on them after all those years, many of them sullen in the face, violence brimming beneath their expressions.

But he’d take them all on, every single day of his life, instead of her.

His fucking ex-girlfriend.

A brief relationship. Yes. But it frustrated him all the same.

It had been years since then at least, so the sheer bitterness of seeing her again wasn’t so fresh. She’d looked his way once in passing in the canteen, but had not lingered. Perhaps she didn’t even recognise him.

But he’d recognise her anywhere.

Ettore. Who now wouldn't be seen dead in a relationship, having done the terrible things that landed him here.

Ettore. Who had a questionable past with women.

She’d changed. Matured somewhat. Before, she was smaller, slimmer, not a woman you would usually associate with such violence. But what she lacked in stature she made up for in temper, even back then she was a loaded gun with the safety off, threatening to shoot her rage in any direction she seemed necessary.

And for whatever reason at the time, when he was younger, a bit more stupid he supposed, blinded by her striking nature, they’d gotten into a relationship, though never defined. One that was equally destructive to each of them.

He’d always been in and out of the police station. He wasn’t smart, so he didn’t easily evade capture. But she did. She always got off light, using her sex to her advantage. It was much easier when a barely twenty year old girl could easily go from violent offender to playing the victim with a simple expression change. She did it too well.

But now, clearly, she’d done something even she couldn’t escape from.

How many years had it really been? He couldn’t really even remember. They'd all blurred together.

All he cared to remember of their relationship was that it was toxic, on both parts. Never in terms of outright violence, it wasn’t like that, but they hurt each other with their words, with their actions and attitudes. Where he was cold and not willing to back down and admit his wrongdoings, she was sharp, quick-witted, but her insults hurt him the most.

But it was exciting. God it was so fucking exciting to be with her.

As wrong as it was, the only manner in which either of them knew how to get the anger to simmer down, was to fuck. It’s possibly the healthiest sexual relationship he’s had with a woman, and that’s saying something. He doesn’t dwell on that fact too much.

Whenever they had a fight, which was extremely regular, they would expel it with hate sex. It was rough, aggressive, borderline violent. And they would say as much to each other, before submitting their bodies, tangled against each other like strangling.

Now, looking at her. Her maturity astonished him. She, in principle, hadn’t changed, but there was something about her that he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t tell how he felt that she didn’t recognise him. Most of the prisoners were indifferent to each other, barely talking even in close situations, so that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he felt the simmer of that nostalgic anger again when he saw her.

Since realising it was her, his use of the Box had increased dramatically. Using his imagination was horrendous. She was right there. He could have the real thing if he wanted. And yet he found himself, stroking his cock vigorously to the memories of their chaotic fucking. Remembering the way her breath used to feel against his skin, holding back her sounds from being too loud, the way her tits pressed against his chest, the way the flesh of her thighs felt in his palm as he raised them to rut into her deeper. Her skin. Voice. Taste. He wanted to sink his teeth into her, and lick at the blood that pooled to the surface; would she taste as sweet as she used to? For some reason, he thought she would taste better now.

Fucking his hand to the thought of her wasn’t enough, he needed to feel her pussy choke him for all he was worth. Needed to stuff himself inside her until she winced as he reached the end of her. He would pull her back by her hips, digging his fingers in as far as they would go, and watch as he disappeared inside her, each thrust punctuated by her sweet moans.

Each day that went by, her ignorance of him was growing too much. Those dark feelings he’d buried since they broke up and he went down his own path of crime were now bubbling to the surface, angry at having been suppressed for so long.

Now that he had seen her. She was everywhere.

He nearly cracked when he saw her walk the short route from the showers to her cell, her hair all wet and already dressed in her sleepwear, which left little to the imagination. It was the closest he'd come to seeing her body in years.

He wasn't shy about admitting it to himself what he thought in that moment.

Thought about grabbing her, pinning her down. He'd use restraints if he had to. Ripping those shorts off and just taking her right there, not caring if she was ready or not. Just a pure animalistic desire put entirely being fucking himself into her.

He didn't.

But the reins on his control were slipping.

He watched across the canteen as she went to put her tray back, eyes floating over her form. The red scrubs they all wore were shapeless, but his eyes were boring holes in it, wondering if she still looked the same, if her tits would still fill his palm as effortlessly as they used to.

Another male prisoner was talking to her, in a clear, over-zealous manner, with a stupid grin on his face. He was talking excitedly, shooting his shot. And Ettore stared darkly, eyes flitting between them and gauging her reaction.

Something akin to excitement and pride bolted through him when she turned away, rolling her eyes.

God she still does that. Fucking brat.

He watched as she walked away, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips, the slope of her neck. There’s a heat burning in his belly, one he recognises as desire. He feels his cock impossibly hard at the prospect of having her again.

It’s beyond dark in the hallways by the time he’s finished in the Box. He fans his shirt against his chest as he leaves, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the corridor, barely even seeing someone is waiting for him to be done, leaning against the wall.

His whole body goes warm when his eyes land on her, waiting there with ankles crossed, tapping her foot against the linoleum floor. But when the door opened, she looked up at him, having to bite her cheek to suppress her grin.

The little bitch had known it was him the entire time.

And had chosen to ignore him.

He stood, as amused as she was, and she didn’t move an inch as he stalked towards her, except when she brushed her hair out her face to look at him better. Their eyes bore into each other as he leaned his arm next to her, against the wall, right next to her head. Though she was a head shorter than him, she looked at him as if she held all the cards.

“Ettore” she greeted, her tone rising at the end.

Fuck. Her voice.

He tried hard not to grin. He thought she was being a little temptress and knew entirely what she was doing, pressing all his buttons she knew existed. Poking and prodding at the darkness that lingered under his skin, threatening to burst free in goosebumps.

She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t respond, “I'd say it's nice to see you but…”

“Hm” he responded low in his chest. She was so close. He could just reach out and touch her, she was real. “Considering how things ended”

It was her turn to hum, something dark behind her eyes, “We were younger. Stupid. Especially you” she teased, “We just weren’t right for each other”

Fuck. You. Ettore thought.

“Maybe you’re right…” he hummed, “...we were a bad combination. But you have to admit…we had something. Didn't we"

She smirked, seeing an open window, “Is that what you think about? When you’re in there” she cocked her head towards the Box, “Do you think about me?”

You know I fucking do.

Ettore’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of silent rage. She stood there watching him vibrate with need, practically able to feel the thumping of his heart, able to hear how his blood sloshed around inside him, humming with a deep, dark desire.

“Do you still think about our fights?” she asked, her voice provoking, “how they always ended?” she was speaking in a whisper now, and Ettore’s hand formed a fist, his body yearning to touch her. And how she just stood there, knowing entirely what she was doing to him, with that bratty fucking smirk on her face. He wanted to wipe it off, show her who he was now.

“Savour that memory. Because it’s not happening again” she smiled, slipping from the wall towards the Box.

He saw red, and grabbed her arm tightly, pulling her back with force. Don't you know what I've done, stupid bitch. Her amused expression never falters.

"Nobody says no to me"

“Now, now, play nice” she taunts, “If you do, I will too”

“Who said I want you nice” he asked with a hard expression, “I’m not looking for nice”

Her damned smile is driving him crazy. And he’s surprised, when he shouldn’t be, when he grabs her face but she doesn’t move an inch. His fingers press against her jaw tightly, surely hurting her. Her eyes look over his face, beguiling him, perhaps taking in how much about him had changed.

“I always did bring out the worst in you, didn’t I”

Ettore grinned darkly, “You know how I like it”

Their faces are so close, they can feel one another’s hot breaths, lips yearning to collide like two stars, to only self-destruct into supernova. From here, he can see how his fingers are making red indents in her skin, the way her chest moves from her breathing and how her pupils dilate at the forceful nature of their attraction. He wonders if underneath this hard, bratty exterior, if she is soaking wet for him, pathetic little bitch.

“Christ, you still drive me fucking crazy”

She grins at that, as if she’s won. He hates that self-righteous look on her face. And being so close to him, practically touching, she can feel his manhood throbbing through the thin material of his scrubs, desperately seeking fulfilment.

“What do you say we find somewhere, recreate some of those old memories”

She hums, pulling her face forcibly from him, “Dream on” she shrugs, “Use your imagination”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

He would be offended, angry even. If he didn’t know her. And knew that this was her nature.

She makes a point of standing in the doorway of the Box, forearms leaning against the frame. Provoking him.

He gives her a cold, hard look, “What if I don’t want to? What if I want the real thing?”

“There’s plenty of women here. Maybe you could pretend it’s me” she winks, making his heart freeze in his chest for a moment, “Goodnight, Ettore”

Fucking tease.

The Box door shuts and he has to ground himself, digging his nails into his palm, thinking about what she’s doing to herself behind that door. What pretty sounds she would make, when his cock forced its way into her again.

When he laid in bed, trying to ignore the stark blue light of the ship and the incessant hum. That wasn't keeping him awake.

What would she do, if he just walked into her cell, began to touch her sleeping form, running his hand over her soft skin. Was she a deep sleeper still, as she used to be? Would his hand on her flesh wake her up?

He imagined kissing and biting her neck, marking her as his own, as she was always meant to be. And if she did wake up soon enough, she'd find him pulling off her underwear, teasing his hot and angry tip against her slit.

It'd be easy to take it by force. He could. If he wanted to.

She was different to the other women, the ones he'd had after her. The ones who met their end.

They were all stupid, wanting a love from him that they could never get in a million years. Wanted more than he could offer. Something they paid for with their lives.

She never expected his love. She saw the darkness in his eyes and wanted to see more of it, to see what abyss it led to in his soul. She had seen that side of him and nurtured it, fed it. Let him take his anger out on her body, and revelled in it, with that look she always gave him, when she knew he wanted it.

She'd given that look today, seeing that darkness lingering in him. Perhaps she wondered if she could fan those flames and see how brightly he'd burn, no matter the cost to them both.

He thought about back then. How he used to start fights, just so he got to fuck her the way they both liked.

It made him hard thinking about it.

He wanted her to want it. Something he'd never admit. Deep down, perhaps he'd known she wanted it too.

It was that odd familiar feeling. Like a spark is igniting his insides when he sees her actively talking to the other guys on the ship. Namely Monte. Tall and broad. Prick.

There is jealousy, sure. But also that raw unbridled lust that used to drive him. Drive them. Maybe she hasn't changed as much as he thought.

He wonders. Could he still make her burn like she used to? Could he still feel the heat himself, and let himself be marred by it?

He'd been so cold for so long.

He wanted to feel alive again.

It frustrated him to no end, now that she knew how much he wanted her again, how much her attitude had flipped. Entertaining the flirting of other guys. She’d taken to wearing tank tops, deliberately not wearing anything underneath, and wearing her scrub bottoms low on her waist, sometimes so low he swore he could see the dimples at the base of her spine, where he used to rest his thumbs to tug her body to his.

Any guy that flirts, or so much as passes a glance in her direction, however overzealous, she welcomes with a wicked grin and flirts back, just to irk him. Whenever her eyes met his, they glinted with pride at getting the reaction she’d wanted.

He felt almost feverish, every nerve and vein in his body felt piping hot. Blood rushed to his cock with astonishing speed whenever she so much as breathed in the same room as him. And the flirting? His fists were tight, white-knuckled, seeing that smug look on her face.

They don’t understand you like I do. Nobody will know your body like I do.

She turns away from Monte, who has a stupid fucking smile again, as if he ever has a chance. And her eyes meet Ettore’s over her shoulder.

Their eyes lock. As if she is saying what are you going to do about it.

A challenge.

Break. Come to me. Show me how much you want me.

He couldn’t wait. Tonight she’d scream.

Staying awake at night, he knew all her movements. She always gets up in the middle of the night, with such quiet, delicate footsteps and goes to refill her water bottle.

It was the only window of opportunity he found, to be alone with her.

Careful not to wake his cellmates, he crosses the threshold out to the corridor, the blue light straining his eyes. But just barely enough to see her disappear around the corner. He felt the chill of the air conditioning on his bare chest, skin prickling up, but it was overcome with the heat that ran through his blood. He was sure that his own cells inside him were vibrating, aching to collide with hers.

He grinned, darkly with all his teeth, when he saw the back of her. If she had heard him approach she didn’t show it. And he thought she was perfect for being taken right then, just how she was. In her sleepwear, a top that hung too big on her, with a pair of shorts on her bottom half, her hair tied in a loose bun, messy from writhing around in bed.

When he heard the water stop, he pushed forward, grabbing her bun and shoved her so hard into the wall he was sure she hit her face against it. It’s pitiful how he groaned low in his chest, the way his erection pressed against her soft ass, how flush his chest was to her back, standing tall over her as if he might kill her.

She gasped and winced slightly at the tight hold he had on her hair, her water bottle forgotten and water spilled to the floor. She hummed a laugh as he twisted her arm behind her back,

“This is pathetic, even for you”

“Shut the fuck up” he whispered, breath hot against the shell of her ear. A pleasant shiver ran through her, “can’t stand you prancing around, acting like a fucking slut with them”

He forgot how strong she was, for someone her size, as she yanks her hands away from him, elbowing him in the chest, making him grunt, annoyed.

“Fucking-” he grabs her again, shoving her back hard against the wall, curling his hand around her slender neck and squeezing slightly, pulling her up to look at him. He can tell just how hard she is trying not to smile, and it only makes his simmering anger build.

He can feel how tight his chest gets when he looks at her, feeling primal at the way his lungs inflate and deflate, “You know you want it, like you did back then” he growls.

She scoffs, “Back then?” she says with a bemused raise of her eyebrows, “...that was then”

“And it can be now too”

It’s like those nights back then, when he’d just become consumed in the smell of sex, just to satiate his hunger for her.

“I don’t think so” she smirks, choking in some air when his thumb presses slightly into her windpipe, choking tighter. He can feel her tits press against his chest as she breathes, the colour coming to her cheeks the harder he pushes on her neck.

“You think anyone could fuck you like I do?”

“I think Monte could” she grins.

He scoffs, pressing himself into her impossibly harder, allowing her to feel his hardness grazing against her clothed cunt.

“You want me to fight for you, don’t you, you little bitch”

Her own hands join his at her neck, fingers trying to dig under his. He can feel her heartbeat through her veins and he allows himself to wonder what she’d feel like inside. He’s never felt more torn, more in control but not at the same time.

“I’ve changed a lot since you last saw me. Done horrible things” she says,

“I don’t give a fuck about that”

I just want to remember how good I made you feel. How good you made me feel. To give you what you want.

She smiles softly, “It was always like this, wasn't it…us hurting each other” her eyes seem to study his face, and though almost imperceptible, his grip loosens somewhat, “I think it turns you on” she whispers, “does it excite you?”

The air seems thin in his chest at what she said. They were both awful people, there was no doubt about it. But that was what drew him in, and what continued to make him come back to her.

That she never judged him for those things, because she was just as bad.

“I think you want to hurt me” she smirks, “you’re pathetic”

Something clicks inside, Ettore crashes his lips against her, knocking his teeth against hers and kissing her belligerently, and though it’s rough and chaotic, she sighs contently into his mouth. It’s a mess of tongues and teeth, the way they kiss reflective of what is going on inside them. And the more he feels her hot breath and lips against his, the more his blood sings with desire, all flooding below his waist, pressing his erection against her stomach.

He pressed his thigh between hers, nudging them apart, one hand dipping beneath the hem of her shirt to feel her hot skin, trailing up and taking her shirt with it when he palms at her breast. He swallows her quiet moan as he kneads the flesh beneath his hand, his lips trailing from hers and dragging his nose across her cheek, taking this moment to breathe in her individual scent. He mouths at her neck, biting softly at first, but becoming more rough as he feels her jolt when his teeth sink into her skin, his tongue running across the bruised skin, groaning when he tastes the slightest bit of coppery blood.

“Stop that” she all but breathes, shoving her shoulder against him in reprimand.

He squeezes her breast hard at that, pushing her so much against the wall as if he is trying to mould her to it.

“You’re mine”

She even has the gall to laugh at him for saying that, despite the position they’re in.

With fire in his veins, pressing his bare chest against her, he bunches her tank top in his fists and tugs, the fabric surrendering beneath the harshness of his fingers, revealing her tits to him finally. His hips rut into hers, pushing her up the wall, one hand clutching her ass in his hand to keep her there as he mouths her other breast, running his tongue over the rosy bud.

Her head tilts back, landing on the wall with a thud as his wet muscle pleasures one nipple, nipping every now and then on the sensitive skin, and the other being moulded in his calloused palms. It feels better than before. Though even now, they’re considered young, they’d seen the glimmer of themselves before all this. And now, hurtling through space, he’s found her again, and this time there’s no letting her go.

Soft moans slip from her mouth, running her fingers through his hair and tugging hard, it makes him moan out as well, the vibration coursing through him into her chest.

His hand slips from her breast, trailing down her front, over her stomach to the hem of her underwear, not even wasting time and dipping beneath. Long, thick fingers glide over her slick mound, down to her entrance, where he shoves them inside her as far as they will go. He feels her body go rigid for a moment, a shocked gasp falling from her mouth, before they turn swiftly into whimpers and moans as he fucks her with his fingers.

She’s so wet, it’s easy. And he feels just how tight she is, every single ridge, just the feeling of her hot insides makes him want to bury himself inside of her as much as he can, as often as he deems fit. After a few moments, he finds that rough spot inside, using his fingers to rub hard against it. Her back arches against the wall, pressing her tits against his chest, the hardened buds rubbing almost painfully sensitive against his skin, her hands squeeze his shoulders and he groans at the sensation of her nails digging in.

“Say you want it” he whispers low against her ear.

He knows she does. He feels how wet she is for him, her sounds.

Her eyes crack open, her lips part in pleasured pants, curling up into a hedonistic smile, “No”

His mouth forms a frown. But she knows better.

He pulls his fingers out of her, giving a hard wet slap to her that makes her jolt and her clit throb, then going to tug her underwear down her legs. She kicks at him, writhing in his hold, her small fists trying to push him back.

“I said no”

“Yeah, yeah” Her face whips to one side and she whimpers as her cheek blooms with pain from his palm, “shut the fuck up”

Despite the hot pain on her face, she feels her insides flutter, clenching around nothing as she looks back at him, to see the hard expression he gives as she shoves his shorts past his hips. Her eyes land on his cock, all hard with the angry red tip weeping precum desperately.

“There he is” she smirks.

He props her up against the wall and shoves himself harshly inside her, barely giving her time to adjust to his size and length, until he hits her spongey end. Her chest erupts in a pink flushed colour, air expelled from her lungs.

He trembles slightly as he bottoms out inside her, completely filling her with himself and feeling her walls quiver uncontrollably around him. Squeezing the flesh of her thighs, he thrusts mercilessly into her, seeking the ultimate fulfilment he feels only her body can offer.

Ettore makes few sounds other than his hurried breaths and grunts into her ear, pushing himself so close to her that the only movement is his hips slapping against her thighs and the wet smack of their moist skin meeting each other. He grabs her face, digging into the skin where he’d hit her and keeps her quiet with his lips on hers, moving his tongue against hers. She hears his low sounds in his throat, deep and primal.

They fuck like they’re fighting, as they always had done. Fingers leaving red welts where he’d gripped her too hard, the mark on her cheek reddening, even the lewd sound of her pussy accepting him, it was all angry and aggressive.

She tightens her grip on the hair at his nape, chasing that pressure that was starting to build in her gut. She can feel him grin against her neck, he must be able to feel it too, the way her cunt trembles around him, the way her eyebrows furrow together and her lips caught between her teeth.

“You gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck you” she breathes, her voice strained by desire.

She never wanted to admit the things he did to her, sexual or not, made her feel excited and dangerous all at the same time. He huffs air as he laughs against her, feeling a sheen of sweat begin to cover his back as the effort of fucking her.

“You asked for it” his thumb pushes past her teeth, collecting her saliva on his thumb before dragging it down her body between them, rubbing in fast, furious circles on her overly-sensitive bud. It makes her strain her neck as she throws her head back, a barely-contained moan escaping.

“Just give up”

There’s little resolve left in her, the way his thick cock bullies that spot inside, pushing against her walls at the top in this position. The sheer lewdness of the situation had her nearly forget where they were, just fucking in a random hallway, and it sends a bolt of excitement down her spine at the thought of getting caught.

He watches how he disappears inside her, a ring of her arousal white at the base of him, how wet she sounds with each slap of skin. Hastening the circles on her clit, she grips him at his nape tight as he buries his face against her shoulder, her entire being shuddering as her orgasm blazes a burning trail through every limb, every cell, igniting her in a way only he ever could.

“Fuck-”

It’s the only sound he’s capable of making as an all-body shudder rolls through him. The way she clenches around him, holding him tightly.

He quickly pulls out of her, briefly feeling disappointed at the loss of her tightness, fisting his cock to completion. That is until she falls to her knees in front of him, looking up at him through her eyelashes, watching the way his chest heaves from this angle.

Cock slick with her arousal, watching the way he fists it quickly, she feels that familiar tug of arousal below her belly button.

His fingers thread through her hair, tugging at the crown to pull her face towards him. Holding himself at the base, he drags the tip over her lips, leaving a glistening path of both his and her arousal behind that she quickly collects with her tongue. Her lips chase his length before enveloping the tip in her mouth, running her tongue over the already sensitive slit.

A long, exasperated sound between a breath and a moan rushes out of him, having to lay his hand flat against the wall as she begins to bob her head on him, accepting his cock into her mouth with a renewed vigour, watching how he reacts.

Gripping her hair tight, she hums around him, sending a pleasant roll of warmth up his spine, and he tugs her head towards him, using her face for leverage to fuck himself into her mouth. He feels himself hit the back of her throat, and how her mouth contracts as she gags softly, trying to relax her jaw.

She closes her eyes as he sets his pace, hands resting on his thighs only slightly as she feels his hips press against her face. His cock bullies the back of her throat with a lewd wet sound, and it’s so intense, that she can feel her eyes watering, her slick gathering between her thighs once again and the throb of her previous orgasm still rolling through.

He’s so close and she can feel it, and when she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, chest rising and falling steadily, eyes scrunched shut as his own pressure builds. She would’ve smirked at it, if he wasn’t buried to the hilt in her mouth. He looked the most handsome light this, pink in the face with his muscles of his stomach flexing, trying to hold back.

As soon as her hands cup his balls, hurtling him towards his own orgasm, his jaw slackens and his grip hardens in her hair in such a satisfyingly painful way.

“Shit-” he pulls himself from her mouth, shoving her head back to the wall and she takes a much needed breath in, “Open”

He fists his cock to her open mouth, his blue, wild eyes boring into hers, chest tightening as he comes undone and releases thick ropes of cum onto her waiting tongue. She blinks up at him, both of them smelling of sex and arousal, her breasts heaving with her breathing. In the stark, low light of the corridor, his face looks so sharp, as if it were made of stone, with a glow that almost looked inhuman.

She dives on him again, sucking off the remainder of his cum and pressing her tongue to the underside, tracing the throbbing vein there. The over-stimulation has Ettore shiver slightly, releasing his hold on her for a moment as she pulls off him with a wet pop. He watches with a lewd curiosity as her throat contracts, a sigh from her lips showing how she had swallowed all of him. Her eyes glisten in a kind of gloating pride right up at him, a mischievous glint behind it all as she smiles in satisfaction.

He pulls her up with a hard grip on her arm, letting his eyes fall all over her body.

“Miss me?” she whispers against his lips.

“Shut up” he responds with a grin, crashing his lips to hers. Binding himself to her irreparably.

And even though it damages them both, it just hurts too good to even think about stopping.

dividers by @saradika

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics @theoneeyedprince @thelittleswanao3 @hb8301

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#ettore x you #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore x reader #ettore #ettore fan fic #ettore fanfic #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #high life fanfic #high life fanfiction #high life 2018 #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #ewanverse

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quinloki · 1 year ago

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period sex and aftercare and /BUGGY/ are so big brained can i ask for those two plus dacryphilia with buggy and croco-baby and maybe a secret third character (your choice) if you feel up to it!!! Thank yooouuu!!! :o)

Alright, I got ONE MORE KINK ASK after this and I'll be all done with them \o/ Holy shit I can't believe how many asks I got for this (And how much fun I've had dealing with them.)

It helps a lot that I love kinks, kinky people, one piece characters, and learning/educating >.>

Alright we got Period Sex, Aftercare, Dacryphilia (the crying kink) - For Buggy and Sir Crocodile - and since you called him Croco-baby I'll add Donquixote Doflamingo to this.

I am surprised with as often as I feel like I've seen the crying kink pop up that I haven't already done it for ANY of these guy =O

And also yay \o/ AFTERCARE ASK \lol/

Go go alphabetical!

Buggy:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - It's messy, it's red, it's kind of flashy actually, and Buggy loves it. You don't grow up on the most famous pirate ship in the world without being comfortable with all sorts of things. I feel like everyone under Roger's flag was, we'll say educated, and as such I can't see anyone from that crew being put off by menstruation.

Plus, orgasms are a cure for some, and there's one way to find out if it works for you to alleviate any cramping you may be feeling. You're going to be a complete mess by the time it's done though, Buggy's a little blood-lusty, surprisingly maybe, but he gets feral, and more so than with lipstick or makeup, he loves to "mark" you.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - He is a terribly stressed clown, but I also think he's a big damned softie too. Buggy really is just as comfortable brushing your hair as he is ordering the crew around. Maybe more so, honestly. All that hair he has though, and that makeup he wears, the man's skin and hair care routines are on point as much as his eyeliner game. He will take care of you after every session, even if he subbing or bottoming some of it.

I think Buggy's desire to serve is almost as strong as Sanji's honestly. If you're an important person to him, he doesn't want to let you down, and he will devour your praises. But he's also The Captain™, and no matter what his role was, he's going to provide you proper aftercare.

Dacryphilia - No. - Sure sometimes tears happen. Sometimes you're so overwhelmed they slip out, sometimes you are chocking on the impressive package this man has. Sometimes tears happen, but Buggy doesn't like tears. He doesn't want to see you cry. If your makeup smears he wants it to be cause of sweat and pleasure and touch, not because you're crying. He's not even good at handling happy tears, let alone any other kind.

Buggy's more of let-him-do-the-crying-for-both-of-you type. He'd happily be the only one stressed to the ends of his capacity, than to have you worry. (Which probably worries you xD it's a bit of a cycle like that).

Sir Crocodile:

Period Sex - Yes - He doesn't mind the mess. The cause doesn't bother him. The only reason it doesn't rate higher is because it's hard to know if your period will heighten your pleasure or your pain - that lack of control bothers him, no matter how well or fast he can adjust accordingly.

He also doesn't see it as marking you the same way some others do. It's your blood, not his. It has a scent that isn't his or his cigars. If anything it's an annoyance because you should smell like him, and you shouldn't ever be hurt enough to smell like blood. You shouldn't be close enough to violence to even know what blood smells like, at least as far as he's concerned. But he'll soothe your cramps and discomfort in any way he can when it's that time.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - As said before, Crocodile is all about control, and aftercare is required for control. You don't want to leave your little bottom/sub spiraling with all sorts of thoughts on their own. Whether we're talking toxic AU or not. Aside from the control though, he enjoys it. It's time to bond, to discuss, to connect. The more he knows about you the more control he can exert.

The more control you can hand over.

Plus, as beautiful as you are in his clutches, you're just as beautiful in his care.

Dacryphilia - FUCK Yes - Oh please cry for him. Sob in terror or pleasure or pain, he's not picky. Your face in tears is as lovely as your face contorted in pleasure. The only requirement is that those tears are his fault. No one else is allowed to make you cry.

As much as he will pull tears from you - and most sobs of pleasure as long as you're good - he'll kiss them away so sweetly. Brushing them aside so kindly, and with such praise.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - Not only is it a mess, it's a bloody mess. Doffy's a bit twisted and I can see him actually smearing the mess all over you while he's taking a break between railing you. He's not doing it so much to mark you, as he is to almost degrade you. He'll tell you how dirty you are, covered in blood and cum and tears - he 100% gets into degrading you during it.

Sometimes being on your period can make you more sensitive to pleasure, and sometimes it makes you more sensitive to pain - it doesn't matter as far as he's concerned. He'll get his pleasure at the least, and he'll enjoy turning you into a mess in the meantime.

Aftercare - Yes - Unless he's truly into you, don't take this as some kind of kindness. Aftercare is a good time to learn and bond, and for Doffy that generally means it's a great time to reinforce all his manipulations. It lets you think he cares (again, *maybe* he does), and pulls you closer into his grasp.

A truly skilled puppeteer doesn't necessarily hide the strings, he just makes sure you don't pay attention to them when you should be >.>

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don't even know - Cry for him, please. Crumble to pieces in pleasure, fear or pain - whatever it may be that you've earned at the point in time. If you're overwhelmed in pleasure he'll promise you such sweetness and devotion. If you're overwhelmed with fear he'll admonish you softly and forgive you magnanimously. If pain stains your face he'll have you begging for forgiveness, a forgiveness he'll bestow on you when he feels like it.

Perhaps after you've gone raw and hoarse from tears and begging.

Much like others who enjoy making their partners cry, it is a pleasure reserved entirely for him and no one else. Members of his immediate family may get an understanding pass, circumstances depending, but anyone beyond that is likely to be dealt with swiftly.

#kinky one piece head canon #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #x reader #buggy x reader #sir crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader

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itsmeliaeri · 6 months ago

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You ppl really can't separate fiction from real life, can you?

"Oh this ship is bad is underage how can you ship them"

Bro one of them have literally 6 eyes and the other hide in his shadow both fight demon that normal ppl can't see with magic not to mentione the older one is like 5 years old boy lookin for candy while the younger is possess by a 85 year old man soul!

ARE YOU LOOKIN FOR LOGICAL AGE IN THIS? GIVE ME BREAK

Besides, this younger one that yall so concerne abt literally got himself killed so many times and have a very VERY dangerous life! You dont think it's bad and all but thinking that he and his teacher could fall in love and have a healthy relationship is sick!??

And in a series like jjk? Where brother and sister and father and daughter sleep with each other? Where there's clearly mentions of rape? Where its mangaka literally said Mai first love was Maki?

These all are not correct obviously, shouldn't happen, but by real life rules not in FUCKIN FICTIONS! I'm afraid of someday I say "I loved the relationship between Cersei and Jamie" and someone gose "oh you support incest?" No I fickin don't nor I fuckin support a relationship between a student and a teacher in REAL LIFE ffs GROW UP ALREADY

Gojo and Megumi have the chemistry I want, they're beautiful, care for each other and everything is perfect between them for me, they give me peace and that's enough, you should find yours instead of saying bulshit and waste your time.

and for the love of God, please search to learn the difference between pe*do and underage! For your sake and me. You all make me sick when use that fuckin word in every topic!

#gofushi #gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro #jjk #五伏

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kai-anderson-whore · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!!! Could you do an imagine where y/n is the first serious girlfriend he’s had since Emma so she’s insecure and she gets hate because she’s a good bit younger and has to deal with the fact Evan and Emma still work together on AHS so their fans still want them together. Lots of fluff with a touch of smut? Thanks!!!

Insecure of the ex (Evan peters x fem reader slight smut)

Warnings: hate comments, doubting a relationship, being compared to an ex, smut, heavy kissing, p in v sex nothing too major, fluff

Word count: 1,4k

A/n: in my flop era xoxox

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

The dim light lit up the room the coffee cup in your hand, your phone in the other. Evan your boyfriend of two years sat on the other side on the room watching tv. You had just posted a picture of you both on instagram it was a picture one of your friends took when out for dinner you were cuddling into Evan, his lips on your head hugging you close with the caption "here's to two whole years with you my love, and many more 💕💕".

You loved the picture one of your favourites. You received nice comments from your close friends and family congratulating you both on the milestone. But you couldn't help but notice the negative comments. "They won't last any longer", "I miss Emma", "he's probably going to go back with Emma", "she's so much more younger than him probably only with him for the money", "god I hate her #evan&emma". You knew you shouldn't have let it bother you but it did.

Sure you were a couple of years younger than Evan five years to be precise but you weren't with him for his money. You loved Evan you both met at a convention and hit it off from then on sure it wasn't too long after his split from Emma roberts. He still worked closely with her in ahs which did make you feel unsettled but you learned to get on with it since Evan loved working on the show despite his ex girlfriend being there too.

But the comments on each post didn't stop you from getting into your head. You wondered why he was with you, was he just using you to get over Emma and you were just sticking around to something that means nothing to him. You didn't know. Every time Evan was filming for ahs you knew Emma would be there and with their history you didn't know if there was still feelings or not between them. Their fan ship them more than you and Evan it was just something you learned to become accustomed with.

You glanced over at Evan his eyes focused on the screen in front of him. "What time is it?"you asked you already knew the time it was past midnight already but you wanted him to notice. "Twelve fifteen- oh happy anniversary babe" he says after pulling out his phone getting off his seat giving you a kiss on the lips. But you couldn't help but feel hurt at the fact you had to tell him.

"What's this?" Evan asked his eyes glued to your phone. 'Shit' you thought you forgot to lock out phone so he wouldn't see all the comments. "It's nothing Evan really" you tried to dismiss but Evan wasn't having it. "Come on let's see the post it's obviously us" he smiled taking your phone from your hand his smile grew at the picture remembering the day clearly.

With a short scroll of his thumb his boyish smile dropped seeing all the horrible hate comments you were receiving for the first time. Evan's brows scrunched in confusion reading all the comments. "How long has this been going on for?" He asked the tears pricked your eyes uncontrollably you felt like you couldn't breathe.

"Almost the whole of our relationship, I delete the comments so no one can see but there's so many of them" you started to sob. "Sometimes I think they're right what do you see in me Evan, they're obsessed with you and Emma I can never compare to her" you started to sob. Evan just placed your phone down engulfing you in his arms.

He smelled of your favourite cologne hints of wood, tobacco and citrus notes it was all so comforting to you. Your tears staining his white t-shirt but Evan didn't care about that all he cared was making you feel better and putting a stop to these comments. "Listen to me" he started cupping your chin so you can meet the gaze of his brown eyes.

"They might be obsessed with me and Emma and can't get it in their heads we're history. But I'm obsessed with you okay your the best thing that's happened to me what I see in you is a beautiful, smart, independent woman who loves me just as much as I love her and no dumb comments will change that you can't compare to Emma because your better and I mean that". His words made you cry more but a smile crept on your lips which Evan didn't hesitate to kiss.

"I love you so much Evan I'm sorry for-" you tried apologised which Evan placed his index finger to your lips shushing you. "Don't apologise you have nothing to be sorry for it's natural to get upset and let these comments get to your head and I know me working with Emma still isn't necessarily helping but your the only one for me". you could see the hurt in his eyes Evan hated seeing you upset. Nodding your head you whisper a small "I'll stop apologising" to him before burying yourself back into his arms.

"I'll put a stop to these comments I'll log back into my instagram account and say something I promise" he added kissing the top of your head. You still felt shitty these comments really have took it's toll on you. "Hey look at me" you looked up at Evan again who placed a kiss on your lips, "I - promise- I'll- sort- this" he said in between kisses. His lips continued to kiss you your hands roamed his hair. His body pushing you further down on the couch slotting himself between your legs.

A giggle escaped your lips Evan took those thoughts away a smile once again invaded your lips, "there's that beautiful smile" he sighed happily. His lips peppered themselves along your neck, your head moved to the side slightly giving him more access to you. "Happy anniversary babe" he mumbles against the hot skin of your neck. "Happy anniversary" you sigh in satisfaction completely forgetting about those comments you knew they shouldn't matter all that matters is you and Evan.

His hand roamed your body slipping under your sweater feeling every curve. His lips continued its work along your neck and collarbones. "Evan" you hummed desperately, Evan knew what you wanted and wasted no time in giving you it helping you out your sweater and sweatpants leaving you in just your undergarments. Evan then proceeded to remove the remaining articles of clothing from his body, you took the time on getting completely bare for him showing him every curve and shadow of your body.

"How did I get so Lucky with you" he smiles his eyes drinking all your beauty before him. He slotted himself back between your legs your arms wrapped around his neck, your legs hooking along his waist. Evan gave himself a few tugs before lining himself up with your entrance. Your body quivered as he started pushing into you slowly.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as evan thrusted into you in a slow passionate way. Your arms still wrapped around his neck bringing him down to meet your lips. Your lips moved in sync swallowing each others moans. Wanting to be more closer to him if that was even physically possible. “I love you so much” he whispered against your swollen lips bringing his back upon your own.

Soon enough you felt that knot form within you. Evan picked up the pace a little more bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans got louder as you came undone beneath Evan. He stopped for a moment drinking you in a smile forming on his lips, “god you so beautiful” he thought out loud coming down from your high Evan started to chase his own high coming undone on top of you.

You both felt limp laying on the couch not saying anything just trying to collect yourselves. Evan had his arm slung over your frame a small smile on your lips completely forgetting about the comments. “I’ll sort all that out I promise” he broke the silence nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck placing a lazy kiss there. “I know thank you Evan” you sighed tracing your fingertips along his back.

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elledberry · 1 year ago

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No, but like, WHY do people care so much about other people ship preferences?

I get it, I don't ship the obvious ones or the "right" or what was given to me by the author, but IS JUST A SHIP.

Look, don't get me wrong, I'm not angry at other preferences when it comes to this. What I get annoyed at is that when there is an illustration, an edit, a fucking fic, any kind of media, that shows that romantic dynamic between the characters they will be like

"siblings 🩷" "omg no how could ship that? They aren't like that." "Have you read the books ?" "Omg, people actually ship them?" "The author said..." "omg but this (name of other ship), it's so much better," and so on.

My beautiful person who comments in every edit of (some examples, but I'm sure that there's more) harmony, lunami, zutara, sasusaku .... do you really think that they/we don't know or care about this ? Do you know what you look like when u comment stuff like that? An idiot who can't let others have a different opinion on literally fiction character's romance life, like that one kid in kindergarten who saw another kid getting a toy and go's on about how that toy is lame compared to theirs, a spoiled brat.

You have so many things to be arguing about in the actual plot, but you can't cus you think that the idea of nami and luffy together is so wrong that you go around in every media of them "oda said..." But with other members of the crew, oda said absolutely nothing... not only that, but are we really discussing this ? Can we be talking about I don't know... how racist and hypocrites are some people in this famdon? Really give your disappointment and disgust to that(what is actually important).

Harry and Hermione are another great example of "I know they aren't like that but I like the idea of it" WE KNOW THEY AREN'T LIKE THAT but we think is cute it could HAVE BEING cute, sometimes people just grow up shipping and seeing they as a possible couple, like people who grow hating sakura and now simply can't have a actually good argument of why she should be hated on... that was an ironic comment by the way but also not, ( no, her not liking the main character the same way shouldn't be one, or the author not giving her screen time either much less cus of the fact the the anime did her dirty with so much disconnect things from the manga, like her relationship with sasuke <his perspective of it > or naruto himself for that matter, hate on a literally 12 years old for saying shit that every fucking person in the village grew up thinking, funny, why not hate on the thirdkage then? The person who could have actually stopped the hate on a little kid) [Sorry that got out of the main point]

Or zutara, my God, people get personal with just as harmony, relax, just cus I like them doesn't mean I hate kataang, surprise or not I do think they are indeed very cute, I'm pretty sure some other people who ship zutara too... we just see the potential, what could have happened, once again, enemies to friends to loves, the plot, you know ? There is no need to get offended by the IDEA of it. We love the drama and the fic, the illustrations, the edits are just a format that represents and shows it, share if people who likes it, you don't like it ? Oh well, let me tell you a secret, ignore it, you probably ignore so much more important things, why not a fucking edit of ship you don't even like ?, oh you can't ? You can't see other people "toy" and shut about your disappointment on it, is it that hard ?, oh well, have you actually not known that there's an amazing thing within social media, when you hold/press or simply click on the 3 dots on the top of the post, there's a option there, that's right, BLOCK IT the algorithm will understand if you continue blocking it, unlike some people.

I'm just rambling about this because I'm sick and tired of people being such a killjoy, I just want to enjoy "my ship" and see the comments of people who actually likes it to, not yours "siblings 🩷" in post which is definitely not about that, or "oda said..." when i didn't ask what he said, you know people have different things that brings them a scape from reality that brings them a funny giggle (no killing others people joy, when it's such a basic no harmful thing), wave of emotion for those who don't get to feel much in the day-to-day life or simple just cus.

It just petty of you, be better.

Ps.. There is no offense for those who ship other characters within these plots(or different ones), original, popular, or unpopular. Do your thing. Be happy. Just don't spoil others.

Ps2... NO I'm not defending incest that's no it at fucking all ( sorry if I didn't make it clear). I said "siblings" when it came to lunami and Harry x Hermione (cus people like to comment that on posts that aren't even about it < the platonic soul mates comment>), they AREN'T related or grown up at such. Point is you hating the idea of it and going on every post about the ship and hating there. hate all you want, but not on ,obviously, posts that are for the fans of the ship.

#lunami #ships #sasusaku #harmione #harmony #zutara #kataang #levihan #harry x hermione #harry potter #naruto #sakura #luffy x nami #atla zuko #atla katara #one piece #sasuke

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spectrechosts · 17 days ago

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Desperado

I want to be done reuploading and all I have left is shorter stories I haven't touched in forever which means shit is getting CONDENSED into single posts so I can have all this done by Halloween.

This one is about an anxious pilot and her friend who definitely isn't a pirate. 3 chapters.

Selene sighed.

"Okay," She said, "Do you really want to know why this keeps happening? Because you're not going to like it."

Luna nodded, meekly.

"It's the hat."

"What?" She squeaked, half baffled half offended.

"Literally nobody doing reputable things in space does so wearing a cowboy hat. It's- I don't even know how to explain this to you in a way that shouldn't already be apparent."

"But I like my hat!"

"I know."

"You can't judge someone based on a hat!"

"I don't know what you want me to say. It's like one step removed from wearing an actual pirate hat in terms of accessories that say you are doing piracy."

"You cannot assume that from a hat."

"It's the hat and the fact that, to an outside observer, your tendency to avoid people because you're shy looks like you have a whole 'mysterious dark stranger in a tavern' vibe going on."

"But-"

"I told you you weren't gonna like it." Selene said, and finished her beer. "Now tell me what you got roped into so I can get you out of it."

"I-I think they're loading black market organs onto my ship."

"Jesus christ."

"I'm sorry."

"Luna, you can keep the hat. It makes you look cute. But, for the love of god, you have to get better at saying no to people."

~~~

"C-Can you please go faster? I have deadlines, and-"

The customs officer glared at Luna, and she withered. They carefully inspected every inch of her cargo hold, opening shipments, checking for hidden panels, scanning for traces of contraband.

"What's her deal?" Another customs officer asked Selene, who was watching the scene unfold.

"Oh, you know how it is." She shrugged. "Jumpy pilot gets singled out at a checkpoint for being suspicious, that makes them more jumpy the next time, and round and round it goes. She's been flagged down for inspection six times this month."

"Heh, poor kid."

"Poor me having to wait through all this. I could be on Mars by now if I didn't have a soft spot for doe-eyed idiots."

"Mm. Well, speaking of inspections, your ship's been randomly flagged for a search."

Selene narrowed her eyes.

"That seems to happen quite often when you're on shift."

"Hey, I just do what the system tells me." The officer said, putting his hands in the air. "Think of it as lucky that they show up on my watch, and not somebody less understanding."

"Fine." Selene huffed, and slipped him a credit chip.

"Well, looks like everything checked out clean. I'll get outta your hair."

Selene folded her arms and waited for Luna to finally be cleared to leave.

"I'm sorry!" She cried over comms as they took off again. "I just get so nervous!"

"It's okay, Luna. You're not doing anything wrong."

"I don't know why I get so worried about being searched. I'm not a pirate, I don't even know any pirates!"

Selene smiled.

She'd tell her eventually, if things between them got serious.

~~~

"S-So that's my cargo manifest, and as you can see everything is in order."

Luna was sweating bullets. She didn't know what it was about inspections, but just the idea that she might have accidentally messed something up and go to jail for it made her queasy.

"Ah, I don't need to read all that, girl. Just show me what you're hauling and we'll talk about what you're going to do with it, okay?"

The inspector clapped her on the back, and she squeaked. "Um. Okay?"

"Good girl."

This inspector was weird. She was very nice, but everything she said sounded scary somehow. It kind of reminded her of that one time Selene had gotten drunk while they were docked at Neptune and said some incredibly salacious things to her in a similar tone of voice before passing out at their table.

That… Wasn't a memory she needed right now. She was flustered enough.

"So um, this section is all iron ore, containers one through twenty-six."

"How wonderful. Next."

"Then these ones, twenty-seven through thirty-one, these are all, um, industrial air filters. It's- It's mostly all just stuff for the refinery." Luna explained.

"Okay, I think there's been a misunderstanding here." The inspector said, putting her arm around Luna's shoulder.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry?"

"It's okay, pretty girl. I was unclear. I want you to show me the good stuff, yeah?"

"The… Good stuff?" Pretty girl???

"The secret stuff, babygirl. The illegal stuff."

Luna went pale.

"Nonono, I-I don't have-" She babbled, and the inspector's face fell.

"Ohh, babygirl, I don't like being lied to." She said. Her sly smile was gone, her relaxed posture replaced with that of a predator looming over her prey.

"I'm- I'm not-" Luna said, backing away.

"Do you know what happens to people who lie to me?"

Luna backed into the side of a shipping container, and the inspector slammed an open palm next to her head. She flinched at the impact, tears welling in her eyes.

"They… Go to jail?"

The inspector's ominous appearance cracked, a smile showing through. "They- What?"

She giggled. She laughed at her and Luna's face burned and she didn't understand what was going on.

"You- You still think-" The inspector struggled to speak between fits of laughter. "Oh, oh I had heard Selene liked to play house with easy marks, but holy shit girl you're like, actually stupid."

That made Luna mad. Was she too trusting? Maybe. Was she bad at social situations? Sure. But she was not stupid, and she did not like being laughed at, and she definitely didn't like how this girl talked about Selene. She balled her hands into trembling fists.

"Whew, okay, let's do this from the top, with no subtlety so you can follow- ghlk!"

Luna punched the fake inspector in her stupid throat and tackled her to the ground, raining blows upon her arms as she attempted to guard her face.

Luna was released from the security office after a few hours. The cameras corroborated that the now very bruised woman in the other holding cell had been posing as a customs officer to gain access to her ship.

Selene was waiting for her when she got out, and swept her into her arms.

"I'm sorry," She said, "This is my fault, I-I haven't been honest with you."

"You're a pirate." Luna grumbled.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Do you know her?"

"…Yeah. She's my ex."

"Then is what she said true?" Luna sniffled. "Are you just, playing house with me? Because I'm gullible?"

"No!"

"If-If I find out you're lying to me, I'll never forgive you."

"No, Luna, I was going to tell you everything, I swear."

"Okay." Luna said. "I believe you." She wiped her tears away with her sleeve. "So… That's the kind of girl you're into?"

"Not for a long time now. Too much trouble."

"What kind of girl are you into then?"

"…Okay," Selene said, blushing a little. "There is one other thing I need to tell you, while I'm spilling my secrets-"

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leadandblood · 2 months ago

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RE drunkJop: this also gives Crozier's own drinking issues such an intriguing flavour because ofc the captain cannot be flogged so. Jop having to deal with that, maybe with resentment. Who knows maybe he himself had gotten drunk because he was done with Crozier's bullshit. Or meaning to do away with the recent bottle. (dont mind me I am just rattling the bars of your braincells' cage so that they may run free)

*the cage breaks open and my braincells scatter in every direction like this:*

IT'S EVEN SUPPORTED BY THE SHOW IN A WAY. At least in my humble reading of it.

We all know Nedward is mad when Crozier drinks but (although subtly) Jopson hates it just as much. You can see it if you pay attention to him enough. He's not exactly angry, but he HATES it when Crozier is drunk. I've made a post about it before i think *furious searching* found this one at short notice but i've definitely made more. He absolutely HATES it.

When Francis punches Fitzjames, Tom just leans against a cabinet and stays there, breathing like he's trying to calm down.

The little pause and a big eyed look before he says "two bottles, sir" has been haunting me since i thought abt it too hard one day.

A good reason for this attitude towards Crozier when he's drunk would be the "i got lashed for less and here he is still in command of a ship" attitude, or maybe, from another angle, it may be "oh my god Captin what the FUCK are you doing" thoughts.

Since he would have been just 23 (which is Insane to me HE WAS SO YOUNG WJAT THE FUWK) and the drunkenness was on duty AND severe enough for 36 lashes (jesus...) it must have been REALLY BAD i reckon.

Of course if we take the show canon, then he may be drinking because of his mother. He left her there, hand maimed, with his brother... Must have felt terrible the poor lad. Even though she wanted him to go, he might have had second thoughts. Maybe felt like like he shouldn't have left.

I think that's a really good reason.

But. If we diverge fron that a bit and step aside for a moment... Take a breather...

I think Crozier's (very bad) love language is giving people way too many/hard tasks. I SWEAR i just saw a post about it recently but i cannot for the life of me find it. How Crozier puts Little under so much preassure Because he loves and trusts him. Maybe he was doing that and more to Jopson during the Antarctic expedition. Maybe Jopson just couldn't handle the work/stress/preassure/whatever Crozier was putting him through at 23. But he was too proud to admit it/didn't want to disappoint him, so he turned to drinking. Maybe he thought nobody would notice? But then it got out of hand.

Two ways this could've gone after the lashing.

The way he's quick to fulfil commands in the show could be "you can't break me again, not like back then" kind of quiet, invisible defiance. He might think it wasn't deserved or at least not to such an extent and hold some resentment toward Crozier for it.

On the other hand he could be trying to prove to him that he's Better now and he's Stronger now and More Capable, Look, Daddy, Look At Me Aren't I So Much Better Now. Could be trying to undo all the shame from disappointing him back then with being the perfect steward now, going above and beyond although he doesn't need to.

Really an interesting thing to think about, to me. Which way did he swing? I need to think more abt this. Anyway.

It would also explain why he doesn't drink in the show! Since drinking on the job was the source of his previous punishment he'd be more likely to decline that shot from Blanky.

Then! Crozier goes dry and Teeheehee Just Like Meeee 🥰🥰 Ofc I'll Help You Get There Captiiin 🥰 And he might get a sick little kick out of it at first, because it finally feels like justice.

But then it goes on for one day too many and it's painful to watch and he starts feeling really bad for Francis. Like it's his fault Crozier's suffering so badly and he stays beside his bed for so many hours of the day and guards him so fiercly because he feels like he somehow caused it. And he doesn't want people to see the captain that way. He wants everyone to respect him and maybe to Jopson this would be the worst thing to come out of it. People not respecting Crozier.

Because nobody could understand his suffering like Jopson does of course! Nobody at all! And least of all Edward who's never had such problems but Tommy and Francis ooh they have so much in common now! He'd be insufferable about it.

(I've played with the thought of drunk Jopson in the fic, but not that much and i would love to expand on it... The Antarctic expedition in '39 would be the best way to do that it seems *sinister laughter*)

Moving on though. Timeskip!

When scurvy takes over him and his lash wounds open again he's really brave (stupid) about it and doesn't tell anyone. But it Hurts so fucking bad. So then he tells Bridgens, whom he trusts not to tell anyone and also to help him. Bridgens dresses his wounds and tells him to "Rest for god's sake". But we know Jopson ://

He doesn't rest and it gets worse and worse and he gets weak really fast until he falls while hauling one day and doesn't get up.

Crozier feels like Shit because well He Supervised that lashing. He's the Cause of this. He could've probably Stopped it, but he Didn't. He may have even ordered that lashing to be done. Oooh he'd feel so fucking miserable.

This is giving "300k fic" vibes and i don't know if im ready for that but GOD i so want to write it now. Thank you for stirring these thoughts, Anon 💖💖🙇

#This is written as very broad not specifically for the AU #For the simple reason of I think More People should think about this and i don't want to #Limit it by making it into the au #But if you ARE a fan of the au then by all means take things stated as basically canon or half-baked canon lmao #I have to sit on this a while more wow #I am. Having feelings. And so many thoughts.#It actually hurts #I have thought abt Tom drinking ofc. But this is certainly new holy shit #So many new layers i am going insane #I actually think it's going to result in a few thousand words at least #Wow #Okay #the terror #francis crozier #thomas jopson #edward little #Mention i guess

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nctsworld · 1 year ago

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Your latest fic was so cute and funny. Deadass left me want to have more of it. Like, did the date go successfully? What other tricks our mischievous Gemini had up his sleeves? Seriously, short but so good.

thank you so much for reading at your earliest convenience! i won't be writing a continuation, but here's how it goes down:

reader is furious, and in retaliation, truly wants to set the bar high for the date

date activities requested: go to the movie theatre (and you tell hyuck he better be ready to buy every single snack and drink available), dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town (this shouldn't be surprising), then overpriced ice cream in the same area as the restaurant

but of course! hyuck turns it around and takes it a step up

he rents out an entire theatre to watch the movie, on top of clearing out the snack and drink section (hyuck is grateful for his friend, renjun, who is the manager of the theatre)

there's a moment when the back of your hands brush as you reach for the popcorn, but you deny your anxiety (and the obvious tension). obviously, it's only because you're the only two in this entire theatre.

afterwards, he doesn't drive you to the restaurant, but to the pier instead.

"i'm not even kidding—are you going to kill me and dump my body here?"

"i feel like if that was going to happen, you'd be doing that to me."

"then why aren't we at the restaurant?"

your brain clicks when you see it: the small cruise ship.

"you never said i couldn't bring the restaurant to you."

he isn't kidding, because he pulled strings to have one of the sous chefs from the restaurant to work tonight on his day off (you catch that his name is jaemin and that he owes hyuck a huge favour—okay, seriously? is this guy friends with everyone in town?)

and it's utterly romantic. only the two of you, besides some help and the chef.

candles light everywhere. wine and champagne, both readily available. the food is to die for.

you're warm. not from the alcohol and food. not from all the candles. not from all the smiling, laughing, and the truly, genuine good time you're having. something is blooming.

as the sun falls, especially by sea side, it becomes chillier. he offers his black bomber jacket and you accept, placing it around your shoulders.

when you finish dinner, you didn't expect to have a small cart roll up to you with several ice cream options.

"okay, i couldn't get the same brands from that store, but jaemin recommended these and they were pretty expensive."

following that, you catch yourself getting lost in his goofy smile, and after a beat, he laughs awkwardly.

"you okay? you're looking at me kind of funny."

shaking your head, you play into it. "because you do look funny."

the night ends perfectly. he drives you home, like the gentleman he is, and walks you to your door.

"i hate to say it, but i really had a good night."

"told ya."

god, that smirk.

"you're looking at me funny again," he says, but the expression on his face makes you think he knows something you don't.

you don't even compute the moment he leans in, cups your cheeks, and pulls you in for a sweet, deep kiss

the kind where it happens, you take a one-second breather, and then you dive right back into it

both of you, after making out for some time, realize you should probably stop as everyone can see.

"i'll text you later, yeah?" he says, drawing back.

you simply nod, mesmerized by him. his lips. his everything.

"for our next date, by the way," he whisper-shouts, walking backwards. "i'm calling the shots and it'll be a simple one."

"who says there'll be a second date?" you ask cheekily.

"oh yeah?" he raises an eyebrow.

you embrace for another few more minutes until a dog barks, breaking your bubble.

and hyuck ends off with a kiss on your cheek and a soft good night whispered into your ear.

#fullsunsets #cee.q&a #yn brainrot #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #haechan fanfic #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #omg i wrote way more than i thought i would but there ya go!!! HAHA

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astral-mariner · 8 months ago

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so there's shots in the saiyan saga of bulma futzing around with raditz's scouter and i'm like "MISS BRIEFS, I do not BELIEVE that a piece of alien tech can reasonably be taken apart with a FLATHEAD SCREWDRIVER" so it is a firm headcanon of mine that she had to resort to flathead screws to put it back together after she mangled the original ones by not having the correct weirdo alien screwdriver. AND OF COURSE vegeta brings like half a dozen of them back with him because they're like the spaceman equivalent of like a bicycle repair kit but bulma is DELIGHTED with them anyway and vegeta does not understand what this fuzzy warm 'i did a good' feeling is that is happening underneath his ribcage.

Oh my god, I love this! If someone writes a fic of this, I'd be all about it. That's so funny that she'd use an Earth screwdriver.

Everyone knows I already have a million headcanons about Raditz's scouter too. Like, Bulma and her dad were smart enough to figure out a Namekian ship. So she'd definitely be able to hack Raditz's scouter for whatever data might be left on it. I bet she learns a TON about how the Planet Trade works just from the interface and being able to browse some of its "Internet." And my long ass fic is literally her reading through Raditz's private stuff.

It's such a cool plot device to use---Bulma learning about stuff in space and perhaps other things she shouldn't even know about via the technology she's literally seen with in canon.

I really do think that was a big thing that brought her and Vegeta closer---them talking about things out in space. She'd be curious, of course, and it would come up naturally as she's doing tech repairs for Vegeta. How he trained between missions, what tech he used, what might be useful to adapt (as she makes her own version of Vegeta's PTO armor). And Vegeta might be his usual brusque self and give only perfunctory details... But even the way he talks about things, what he avoids talking about, and what little slips of personal details come out would tell Bulma quite a bit about him and would leave her wondering about more. Of course a genius scientist is going to take every opportunity to interview a humanoid alien that could tell her all about life in space.

And Vegeta might act like he merely tolerates her because she provides his training equipment, but you know for a fact that man is lonely, and he'd secretly enjoy when they end up talking for more than a few minutes. Finds excuses for it even. Finds little things wrong with the gravity simulator, finds little reasons to start a fight with her. Because gods know he could never just...go and visit and talk to her because he enjoyed her company or anything.

#bulma #raditz #vegeta #vegebul #ask astral #headcanons

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hellfireloserclub · 5 months ago

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Sandworms, loopholes and questionable sandwiches.

A trip to the lake with the kids and Eddie shouldn't be so confusing. If the kids would just give Steve five seconds to think he would be able to get his head straight. ( Straight? Oh how that ship had sailed) Inviting Eddie to come join them on a few days away had just been step one on Steve's plan. Step two had been to get Eddie alone. Step three was... a work in progress. Listen, Steve might have learned a thing or two about himself while he was off visiting Robin at college, that didn't mean he knew what he was doing. He just hoped he still had a friend in Eddie after he worked it all out. He's just got to survive being the responsible adult for a few days first.

My @steddiesummerexchange fic is out in the world @aaliona I hope you like it.

Read it on Ao3 Here

............

sneak peak

.............

“Henderson. I swear to god, if you don’t choose a spot, I’m throwing everything in the lake.”

Eddie wasn’t joking.

Since they pulled up to the campsite, all he seemed to have done was listen to Dustin and Mike squabble about where was best to set up the tents.

Apparently there was a science to it.

Eddie was pretty sure the fact that there were actual spots marked in the undergrowth was a good enough sign a perfect site already existed, but what did he know?

He watched as Dustin placed a hand on the trunk of a tree, feeling the moss under his fingers. He was about to spout some more Henderson bullshit that he probably learned at that nerd camp of his, and frankly Eddie wasn’t in the mood for it. Not after a three-hour road trip with a van full of teenage boys and broken air con.

Dropping the pile of canvas he was carrying unceremoniously and turning heel, he ignored the shouts of protest behind him.

Yet here he was signing up to torture himself, sleeping on the floor and being bitten by every bug in a hundred-mile radius. The things he did for Steve Harrington.

His side twinged, but he shook it off. Physical activity after sitting still for the drive now pulling at old hurts.

Two years may have passed but the skin grafts still pulled if he tried to do too much.

He knew Dustin would never forget that day, but sometimes the little numbskull forgot that Eddie’s thick skin was only metaphorical these days.

He wasn’t exactly a fan of physical activity before he became bat chow, but after?

One wrong move and he was stuck walking with even more of a limp than usual, if he overdid it, he was looking at bare minimum two days to recover.

It really was a beautiful sight. The lake wasn’t half bad either.

The man in question was currently lugging a canoe down to the lake edge with Lucas.

Eddie had been sure the sight of a boat and a lake would fill him with fear after the events of spring break, but the sight of Steve easily dragging the banana yellow canoe?

That was making his heart race alright. But that was probably more to do with the way Steve’s muscles stretched under the sinfully tight shirt - and less to do with under worldly eldritch horrors.

“Should you be perving on your babysitter?” Eddie asked as he nudged Baby Byers with his hip, both watching Steve and Lucas drop their cargo on the lakeside. Stupid dumb jocks weren’t even breaking a sweat.

Reaching the makeshift base camp, Will wordlessly handed him a Coke from the cooler.

The younger man’s eyes firmly planted in the same direction as Eddie’s gaze.

Evidently Eddie was not the only one enjoying the show.

To Will’s credit he didn’t blush, he just shrugged and hid his coy smile behind his bottle.

Even so. Will didn’t have to call him out about it.

“At least I’m being subtle. You’re almost drooling.” He said.

Will was coming into his own since he had come out to the party at the beginning of 87.

In that time his confidence had grown tenfold and with it so had his cheek.

Oh, he was still charming and sweet, but my god did he have an antagonistic streak a mile wide.

Everyone joked Dustin was Eddie and Steve’s kid. But in Eddie’s opinion if you wanted the perfect mix Will the wise was your answer. He had Steve’s bitchy streak and no tolerance for bullshit and Eddie’s theatrics and imagination.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he could read Eddie like a book, and had latched on to the fact that Eddie was well and truly neck deep in confusion over how he felt about the aforementioned babysitter.

“Take it off!”

Silently they watched as Steve and Lucas made more trips to the back of Steve’s borrowed van.

The background squabbling from Mike and Dustin barely dampened the beauty of the lake where it stretched out as far as the eye could see.

This was the closest thing to the ocean Eddie had seen with his own eyes.

Maybe one day he and Steve would take Argyle and Jon up on the offer of going to visit them in Cali. Get to see the real thing.

But for now the massive lake and sandy shore in the blistering sun would have to do.

Finally, Steve showed weakness to the sweltering heat. Watching Steve wipe the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his shirt should not be making Eddie feel like he was about to combust.

Eddie felt like he was melting.

He was going to blame the heat on his heart attack. Not the vision in khaki flashing his midriff like some two bit wench.

But now she seemed to have gotten bored with telling Mike what to do and had moved on to observing the floor show down on the lake. At Max’s outburst, Lucas pointed to himself grinning.

Eddie had completely forgotten there was anyone else about.

Max yelling from the rocks almost made him drop his soda.

She had been micromanaging the site’s setup since she still wasn’t a hundred percent on her feet yet without her cane.

“Come on Steve, don’t leave us hanging.” Max yelled, shit-eating grin and eyebrow waggle in the lake's general direction.

“Mayfield, you are a child.” Eddie reprimanded, not that Max ever listened to anything he had to say. She flipped him off as El laughed hysterically into her shoulder.

Lucas deflated slightly and Steve dropped his t-shirt back in place, shaking his head and muttering something to the other boy so low that nobody else could hear it.

“Don’t hate me cause you ain’t me Munson.” She mocked sliding the sunglasses she had dropped to the end of her nose back into place now her ogling of Steve had been fulfilled.

“Your boyfriend is right there?” Eddie pointed out raising his soda to Lucas in a ‘bro solidarity‘ shrug.

“I can window shop. If Steve didn't want to be ogled at, he wouldn't be putting on a show. You telling me you and him don’t do exactly the same when you’re on a night out?” Max waved him off, turning her attention back to Steve who was now doing his best not to look back up to the campsite. His face flushed pretty as he arranged the canoe on the bank.

“Are you telling me you aren't buying what he’s selling?” Max asked between laughs.

Eddie tried to defend his and Steve's honor, but all that came out was a garbled cut of noise. Beside him Will sniggered.

“Oh, don’t you start.” He grumbled.

#steddie #steddie summer exchange #steddie fan fic #eddie/steve #pez steddie event contribution

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elvisabutler · 2 years ago

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#15 Fluff prompt with army! Elvis where you know he’s been seeing other girls and you just met him but he actually really adores you/makes time for you. Kinda took inspiration from the Anita phone call where he’s nagging her about calling, this is different, he wants her to visit and call.

called ya, didn't i?

fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t for some implications but again pretty tame pairing: elvis presley x female plus sized reader word count: 1249 warnings: mentions of elvis and his ladies' man ways. mentions of the reader deciding men are trash. minor insecurity on the reader's part, nothing too woe is me, more practical than anything else. reader is of age ( i mention her daddy so it needs to be said. ). author’s note: thank you for this anon! this was adorable and after the- smut army elvis prompt i got i discovered he's actually quite fun to write. hope you enjoy this! this is done for my 1k gala, based on fluff line “just call me whenever you like.” y'all know the drill, real elvis or austin elvis works fine for this despite the moodboard.

If there's one thing, and one thing only that your parents have taught you, it's not to be stupid around boys. It's to know that most boys are stupid and don't have your best interests at heart, instead they have their own interests at heart and are slaves to their own desires. Army boys- be it the ones you've grown up with on bases in various places or the ones who've been shipped off to fight in wars or to just be a peacekeeping force- are ten times worse. Something about the fact that they know they can be shipped away at any time makes them practically caustic with other people's feelings and hearts. No, you know better than to fall for an army boy.

Or at least, perhaps you you did. You thought you knew better and then Elvis Presley came strolling into your life and you- oh, you feel that God has to be mocking you. He has to be mocking you because there's no way Elvis Presley would show interest in you. You're confident enough in your figure, it errs a little too much in the rotund direction for some but you like it just fine. Figure that whoever you want to be with would do the same, tell you how much they enjoy the plushness of your stomach and of your various parts. You know the type Elvis goes for, however, and you- oh you- are most definitely not it.

Yet, here was Elvis sending you letters and finding out your phone number from other people because you're so charming every time he talks to you. He never gets to talk for long, someone always pulling him every which way but it's fine, you think. It's fine because he's got all those other girls, the nice refined girls who look good in the papers and even the ones that just look good, even if no one but you and half the base know about them. No, it's better this way, better that you don't call him and you just leave him be to the other girls. Leave him to charm them like he kind of charmed you.

Except Elvis keeps making time for you. He keeps pushing aside whatever girl he has on his arm at any given function to come and say hello to you. It's not unwelcome but it's strange, it's strange to see Elvis Presley making time for you. It's even stranger still that one night he asks you on a date. A date your mind tells you that you should accept, you shouldn't accept because he's going to inevitably toss you aside like you just watched him toss the other girls aside. It's a date you do accept though, one that's filled with dancing a little silly till the slow songs start and he's twirling you as if it's the most natural thing in the world. It's a date filled with so much joy you almost forget it has to end until Elvis is on your doorstep placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"Gonna let me take ya out tomorrow night?" He murmurs, his hands against you cheeks, his thumbs rubbing them slightly. "Please, darlin'."

You agree and your life becomes a whirlwind of dates and phone calls and Elvis getting sent to Paris where you know he's got another girl so you don't call. You don't call for over a week until Elvis calls first. Your instinct is to remain sweet and charming because even if he's got another girl probably in the next room over but you can't help the way you pout just a little.

"Why are you calling me? Don't you have a pretty French girl to kiss and spend your time with?" The hurt seeps into your tone despite everything. You knew better and yet- yet you thought maybe this was different. "I didn't call you for a reason, 'Vis."

There's a silence on the other end of the phone call before you hear a muffled curse before he groans. "Baby, I ain't got any French gal. I got you, but no French gal looking to be mine." He pauses. "Ya really think I ain't- Baby I'm mad as hell ya ain't here wit' me. Why would I- That's why ya haven't been callin' me? Ya think I got someone else?"

It's your turn to be quiet on your end of the line as you listen to his breathing and hear a slight huff of a laugh leave him before you answer. "Well what am I supposed to think? I know how you are and how girls are and how I'm cute and pretty but not your-"

He cuts you off. "Not what I go for? Darlin'- now I want ya t'listen. I jus' call me whenever ya like. I wanna hear ya voice, wanna hear 'bout ya day. Wanna get to know ya real well. Thought I made that pretty clear 'fore we went to Paris but I'm guessin' I didn't now."

"Oh Elvis." Those are the only two words that cross your mind at the admission and you're struck by a faint rush of embarrasment that you had read the situation so wrong, that you had allowed your judgment to be a little clouded when it came to him just because he was Elvis and just because he was a boy in the Army. It makes your heart twist a little before you finally gain up the courage to speak again. "You really mean it? You aren't teasing, are you? I know you do that too and I don't think I could handle you doing that to me. It'd be real mean."

"Baby. My mama'd- God rest her soul- she'd ask God to smite me if I lied about this. No lyin' I want to get to know ya better 'fore my tour's over. 'Fore they send me back home. If I get to know ya and we like- we enjoy each other more, ya can come home wit' me. Already want ya to visit me more often. Wanna see ya. Hear ya."

A laugh leaves you, a soft little thing that Elvis thinks is something a little bird might sing before you speak. "I- Okay. Alright. I'll- I'll call tomorrow night, how about that? Because I got to sleep, Elvis. And we'll talk and I'll see if my daddy can help me see you."

You can hear the relief and the smile in Elvis's voice when he answers you. "You better. And- I know you're a good girl, I do, but I wanna kiss ya on the lips sometime soon. Can we-"

"Maybe. Play- Play your cards right, Elvis. I'm not so easily swayed you know." You answer is a little cheeky and earns a loud bellowing laugh from him in response.

"Best answer I'll get from ya. Alright." He pauses and hears someone yelling for him before he curses yet again. "Listen. You 'member. Tomorrow night. Gonna be right by the phone waitin' for ya."

He has to hang up before he gets confirmation from you. But the phone call he gets the next night and the night after that and the one after that might just be enough of one. Enough of one to take you on another date when he sees you and one that ends with a proper kiss. And perhaps it's just maybe enough of a confirmation to talk about taking you back to Memphis with him.

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x plus sized reader #austin butler elvis #austin elvis #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley fanfiction #ally's 1k gala #ally writes

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inaris-mage-of-storms · 1 year ago

Text

Content warning for swearing, blood and gore, and death of background characters.

}{ Part Six }{

Every muscle burns and his head aches fiercely, but Martyn pours every ounce of his waning strength into swimming after the ship. He's inhaled water a few times now, and the curious fish surrounding him have disappeared. It's a bad sign, he knows, but the ship is still in sight, and that means he has a chance.

He hopes it means he still has a chance.

It would have been safer for him to get back to Scott's ship, but it's dead in the water and Scott is on the enemy ship, outnumbered and unarmed. Another wave washes over Martyn just as he opens his mouth to take a breath, leaving him coughing and spluttering. The ship is getting smaller and the shadow under the waves is getting closer and oh, god, he's going to die here before he can even try to protect Scott -

Martyn grits his teeth and kicks harder. He's not dead yet. He still has a chance.

Just when he thinks his strength is about to fail him, the ship looks like it's getting closer. It's stopped moving; he's gaining on it.

He only hopes it doesn't mean bad news for Scott.

Martyn finds rope hanging from the side of the ship and grips it firmly, hauling himself up even as his muscles tremble with exhaustion. He falls over the side onto the deck and lays there, gasping, hearing nothing but his heartbeat roaring in his ears as he stares at the sky.

Right, the moss. He digs it out of his ears, making a face at the dampness, and hears -

Nothing.

Waves lap at the side of the ship and wood creaks as it drifts aimlessly on the sea, but there is no shouting, no gunfire, no steel drawn or clashing.

No singing.

The smell of blood is almost overpowering.

With dread in his stomach, Martyn rolls onto his hands and knees before lurching to his feet. He sees the bodies first, or what's left of them. The deck is slick with blood and viscera instead of seawater, and he almost slips in his hurried steps toward the sole figure standing. Scott turns toward him as he approaches, and the sight brings Martyn to a halt.

Scott is always beautiful, but now there is something hauntingly ethereal about him, something inhuman about the shine of his eyes. There are sleek fins in place of his ears, and through a tear in his shirt Martyn sees gills. Blue and green scales line his skin in places, glittering in the sun like jewels.

He is beautiful, and he is drenched in blood.

It drips from his claws, is smeared across the corner of his mouth and down his chin, and soaks into his clothes. The slow curve of his lips when he sees Martyn is a predator's grin showing off a mouth full of sharp teeth, not the sleepy lover's smile he remembers from early that morning.

It leaves Martyn breathless anyway.

"Are you hurt?" He scans Scott for injuries as he approaches, but already suspects that none of the blood is his. Scott doesn't answer, busy conducting his own inspection of the cut on Martyn's temple with his fingertips and a frown.

"They shouldn't have touched you."

It isn't the same compulsion he feels when Scott sings, but there is still something in the undercurrent of his voice that makes Martyn want to drop to his knees in worship. (Or maybe that's just the effect he's always had on Martyn. He can't quite remember, now.)

He puts his hand over Scott's, and his other hand seeks Scott's waist. "I'm fine," he tells him softly. "Are you okay?"

The scales are receding, the gills are gone, and Scott's ears are slowly looking more and more human as he smiles at Martyn, this time with more softness than sharpness. "I'm okay. I'm just - " He blinks heavily, swaying on his feet. " - Really, really tired all of a sudden. Isn't that strange?"

That's all the warning Martyn gets before Scott collapses into his arms, oblivious to the shout of surprise from his Kestrel. Martyn's worry spikes again as he lowers Scott to the deck, looking around frantically. The ship is too large to sail on his own, and his head is pounding, and he's not even entirely sure where they are anymore, and he - he can't think, he doesn't know what to do -

"Sun God!" He calls out to the deity in desperation. "S.G., I need help! Please."

His voice cracks as golden light materializes before him, and he can't bring himself to care about the tears beginning to swell on his lashes. "I need to get him home," he begs. "Please, I - "

They're on the main docks of the Faction Isles before he even finishes his plea, and the suddenness of it doesn't help the nausea rising in his throat, but he fights against it. There are cries of concern from the people loitering nearby, and they rush over as Martyn staggers to his feet with Scott in his arms.

Cruppy is among them, and Martyn stumbles in his haste to step away as the creature approaches. "Back off," he snaps. "Don't you dare come near him, don't you fucking dare!"

"What happened?" asks Eloise in alarm, at the same time as Apo says oh my god, that is so much blood and Ros says is he okay? and he can't make out the rest of the voices as they overlap and he can't see clearly, and his ears are ringing and everything is too bright and too loud and he needs to get Scott somewhere safe -

"Give them some space!" Sausage's voice cuts through the crowd, and Martyn can't see where he is, but his instincts hone in on friend ally safe even as he clutches Scott tighter. "Martyn? What happened?"

Sausage is in front of him now, a shelter between him and any potential threat. "Not his blood," he mumbles, and Sausage relaxes at the reassurance. "Need to get home, get cleaned up..."

"Will you let me carry him?" asks Sausage softly, and Martyn is grateful he hasn't tried to take Scott from him without warning. (He's pretty sure that in his current state he would have bitten the first hand that reached out.)

Reluctant as he is to relinquish his hold, Martyn knows he's on the edge of collapse, and he trusts Sausage would never harm Scott. "Okay," he agrees, handing him over to his factionmate. They make their way to Martyn's base; it's closer, and Martyn doesn't think he could stand being outside of his own territory right now anyway. Cleo will no doubt be breaking down his door as soon as the news spreads, but that's a problem for later.

For now, he and Sausage get Scott cleaned up, checked for injuries, and tucked into bed. Martyn tolerates Sausage treating the wound on his head, then crawls into bed next to Scott's unconscious form, and waits.

#file: storm writes things #piratesshipping #majorwood #scottyn #pirates smp #scurvyblr

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our-death-means-flag · 2 years ago

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izzy hands x reader with enemies to lovers. that’s it. that’s the ask. im so in love w that angy little man

Bonding Under Duress

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader Summary: Stede really wants the crew to get along or at the very least tolerate each other. Unfortunately that includes you and Izzy. So the two of you get sent on an errand for the captains with the actual goal of the two of you getting to know each other. A storm has other plans and you and Izzy learn much more than you wanted to about each other… Warnings: minor descriptions of injury, Izzy being very mean to himself, angst, hurt/comfort

“Absolutely fockin’ not!”

“As much as I hate to agree with that asshole, no.”

For once you and Izzy agreed on something, both of you glaring at each other when you realized.

Stede wilted. You immediately felt the urge to comfort him. “Captain, I’m not trying to question your judgment here, but really, no. There’s no need for this.” You reassured.

Izzy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fockin’ ridiculous…” He grumbled under his breath. “I don’t take orders from you, you posh twat.” He snapped at Stede.

You immediately shot him a deathly glare. “God, you're predictable. Get some new material or just shut the fuck up.”

“Hey now, both of you. I’m not asking.” Stede puffed his chest out a tad. “It’s an order from your captain. I’m not expecting you two to become best friends or anything. All you need to do is go on that island and bring back some peaches! Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours and who knows, you may learn something about each other.” Stede seemed very optimistic.

You sighed, already nodding, well aware of how far Stede was willing to go for an idea like this.

Izzy seemed to be about to protest when Ed leaned in. “An order from both of your captains actually!” He chimed in.

“Edward…” Izzy all but whined.

“Izzy.” Edward echoed, even mockingly copying Izzy’s whiny tone.

You watched as Izzy’s face flushed every shade of red, though whether it was rage or embarrassment or maybe both, you couldn’t tell. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Izzy must have noticed since that seemed to set him off. “Oh fuck off. I’m not going to some stupid fockin’ island to get some stupid fockin’ peaches with this stupid fockin’-

“Bye! See you in a few hours! Have fun, you two!” Ed yelled cheerfully as he was towed away.

You waved while watching Izzy in your peripheral vision. The bastard looked furious. So much so that he was practically vibrating with rage. Then again he had been thrown over Ed’s shoulder like a bag of potatoes and all but dragged here.

“So…” You finally asked, drawing the word out, on guard in case he decided to bite you. “Let’s go find some stupid fockin’ peaches, eh?” You couldn’t manage to mimic Izzy’s voice but if you said so yourself, your ‘fock’ was pretty accurate.

Izzy snarled. “Piss off. We’re not working together. I’m going one way and you go the other.” He turned on his heels and stormed closer to the edge of the forested part of the island. You merely waited. He paused, deep in thought, glanced one way, then the other and then seemingly realized what you already knew.

You, of course, decided to rub it in. “I sure won’t stop you if that’s what you want. But I’d recommend against it. Not only is it against captains’ orders but when was the last time you did any navigating on land?” Izzy seethed and you grinned. “Also I have all the stuff, since rather than acting like a feral dog, I actually packed so… again, all your call of course.”

Izzy very obviously considered running off on his own if just to spite you but instead he turned quickly and stormed up to you. “Fine. You’re right.” He said it like the words burned his throat. “But I swear if you get us lost-“

“Yes, yes, I know, you’ll maim me and/or kill me in some creatively brutal and violent fashion.” You waved a hand dismissively. Deciding to go further you added. “Which you and I both know you won’t do since that’d piss off the captains.” You knew you shouldn’t keep teasing but you enjoyed watching Izzy turn red.

With a seething Izzy following you, you started trekking into the forest. Luckily you’d come prepared and had brought along your wide knife to cut through the foliage. The terrain of the island wasn’t quite the same as the ones you’d been on before but it was close enough.

The two of you walked mostly in silence with you occasionally warning about upcoming hazards in your path. You easily navigated the uneven terrain but Izzy had significantly more difficulty. Probably because he was used to a ship. As much as a ship swaying could mess up your balance, it was not comparable to uneven weird terrain like this.

The first few times you’d chimed in with a “careful” or “watch your step” Izzy had snarled back at you to “Fuck off”. But after nearly falling on his ass a few times, he started to take your warnings more seriously.

(Honestly you deserved sainthood for not laughing until your lungs failed every time he almost fell. Especially since he’d always flail and pinwheel his arms to keep steady. Something made even funnier by the fact that he was unharmed beside his ego.)

Luckily for both Izzy and your composure, you managed to track down the peach tree quickly enough. As you clambered up the tree and gathered up the requested fruit, Izzy stood around looking woefully out of place.

You really were trying to work on Stede’s ridiculous bonding plan but you couldn’t resist and pelted Izzy with a peach. You nailed him dead center in the chest. He jumped clearly not having expected the sudden fruit attack but somehow his reaction time was quick enough to catch the peach as it bounced off his chest. He shot you a glare which you returned with a smile. Izzy tossed the peach in his hand, clearly silently considering throwing it back at you. However you simply motioned with the extra bag you’d brought which was currently full of peaches, making it readily apparent that you would in fact, return fire and that you had much more ammo. He backed off.

You climbed down from the tree and just as you were sorting yourself out…

BONK.

A peach contacted the side of your head. You spun to face Izzy and he had the gall to look confused and innocent despite the fact that he clearly no longer had a peach in hand. You couldn’t help but smirk as you ducked down to pick up the peach and as you were standing up (but before you fully did) you threw it at him.

It just kept going that way as the two of you walked back. The peach being tossed back and forth with varied strength. Whether or not it was possible to break someone’s nose with a peach, Izzy sure as hell was trying to. Hell he’d nearly succeeded throwing the peach so hard you nearly hit yourself in the face with your own hand just from catching it. You on the other hand, had a simpler goal, you wanted to land it on his head. Izzy seemed to assume that you were aiming for his face so his defenses were focused there instead. You were certain you could land it before the two of you made it to the beach but you didn’t get the chance.

You noticed first. Izzy seemed really uncomfortable on land so that’s probably why he missed it. However you’d thought the air felt off all day. But it was only when the first thunder crack pierced the mostly quiet area that you realized that the off-ness you were feeling was the same way you’d feel before a storm.

Izzy had been mid throw when it happened. The peach hit you in the leg and was instantly forgotten as his attention immediately darted towards where you knew the shore was, doubtlessly worrying about Ed. “We have to get to the Revenge.”

Izzy looked genuinely concerned so you didn’t give a snarky answer. “We can’t. There’s no way they can get a dingy out in what’s about to be a storm.” Your words were immediately emphasized when rain started pouring down. “We can’t make it back now. Let’s find somewhere to hunker down and get back when the storm passes.” Izzy still looked moments away from booking it back to the ship. “Ed, Fang, and Ivan are all on that ship. You don’t have to trust anyone else, just trust that they can handle it. Don’t risk making them worry about us on top of managing the ship.”

Izzy cursed under his breath as he visibly struggled with the choice but luckily your logic won him over and you didn’t have to drag him. “Fine.” He hissed the word out harsher than any curse word.

The storm hadn’t been gracious enough to give the two of you any time to talk and the wind and rain was already getting stronger. Despite just having had to talk Izzy out of this exact thing, you couldn’t help but worry about the Revenge. The island was pretty much all tall mountains, you doubted that your crew had gotten much warning. But you had to accept your own logic. They’d handle it. You could trust Ed and Stede to keep the ship safe (admittedly mostly the former).

The wind and rain made traversing the nasty terrain even more difficult than it had been before. The wind knocked you off balance and the rain made the ground slippery. The warm day you’d been having moments ago had vanished, the rain coupled with the wind made you nearly shiver. Despite the cold, you couldn’t run for cover. You had to painstakingly walk carefully to avoid falling.

After you got dangerously close to losing your balance at the edge of a small valley, you decided to reach out a hand to Izzy since you could tell he was struggling. His frantic stumbling was significantly less funny when he was actually in danger. Of course, Izzy didn’t appreciate your offer. You took it as a testament of how much you’d seen Izzy swear that even over the deafening roaring wind, you could tell he was telling you to “Fuck off”.

You could feel the mud under your boots shifting and you were incredibly worried about it giving out in a mudslide so you tried your damndest to move as quickly as possible. You nearly fell when your boot slipped out from under you. If the wind wasn’t so goddamn loud, Izzy might have actually heard your warning. But the sound of your voice was easily overpowered by the wind.

Then the ground gave out from under both of you. You just barely had the time to launch yourself backwards, slamming none too gently into a tree for your troubles. Izzy wasn’t so lucky. You were immediately back on your feet and spotted him lying at the bottom of the small valley.

“Izzy?” You called out as loudly as you could. No reply. He didn’t so much as stir. Even if he hadn’t heard you, you doubted Izzy would just lay on the ground. “Shit.” You mumbled under your breath and quickly as you could, you made your way down, none too gracefully. You were at his side shockingly fast. Izzy was a little banged up but he was breathing thankfully, though it looked like he’d hit his head. He was out cold. “Well, shit.” You mumbled to yourself.

You ducked down and were able to carefully maneuver Izzy into your arms. For such a small man, he was shockingly heavy. But the universe did give you a bit of mercy when you spotted a small cave, looking to be most protected from the storm. You managed to drag the two of you inside. You put both Izzy and the bag of peaches down and dropped down to the ground, exhausted. Even though you were out of the wind in the rain, you were still soaked and you were still freezing. You forced yourself to get back up.

Luckily, the wind blew quite a few sticks further into the cave so you weren’t stuck trying to build a fire with wet tinder. Cold and uncomfortable as you were, it was incredibly difficult to be patient enough to slowly grow the fire but your dedication paid off. Before long You were basking in the warmth of a newly made fine.

You pulled off your overcoat which, while completely soaked, had protected most of your clothes. Izzy had given you shit about it, how a long coat wasn’t practical in the Caribbean (ironic, coming from a man in leather pants and a leather vest).

Despite what you wanted to do you knew you couldn’t just sit by the fire. You had to take care of Izzy as well. You dragged yourself up and knelt down by Izzy. He had a small cut on the back of his head but luckily it didn’t seem to be that bad. You didn’t hesitate to tear off one of your sleeves to wrap it up. You pulled Izzy as close to the fire as you dared but he was still shivering a little. You managed to pull him up so you could start the daunting task of getting him out of his vest and shirt. His vest was pretty easy but his shirt was completely soaked and probably responsible for sapping a lot of his body heat.

As you untied his cravat you noticed the ring around it. You’d spotted the ring before (gotten a pretty close look when Izzy decided he needed to get into your face to yell at you). He always wore it. It was clearly important to him so you didn’t want to just set it aside and risk it getting lost, so instead you slipped it into one of your pockets. At least it would be safe there until Izzy was conscious enough to not lose it.

You had to rest his head on your shoulder so you could wrestle his dead weight out of his shirt. ‘Please don’t wake up right now. Please don’t wake up right now, ‘ you silently begged the universe, because, while you usually followed Stede’s ‘talk it through’ method, that was a conversation that you didn’t want to have. Luckily for once in this dumpster fire of a day, you at least got that and Izzy stayed unconscious.

You definitely did not glance at his chest, taking in the mix of scars and tattoos that you’d never seen before. And it definitely didn’t look incredibly attractive on him. Not at all.Your jacket was dry at that point so you laid it over Izzy as a makeshift blanket. You considered taking his sword since you didn’t want to get stabbed on instinct when he woke up, but you also figured he’d probably feel better if he had it with him.

You crumpled against the opposite wall of the cave and basked in the warmth of the fire. Since you were the only one who was conscious, you had watch duty by default. You glanced at Izzy. Hopefully he’d wake up soon. You doubted you could carry him back to the dingy and leaving him behind so you could get someone to help you made you incredibly nervous.

It was strange to see him so calm. With his face so relaxed and your sleeve wrapped around his head, he looked like a completely different person. You let yourself stare at him for a moment before focusing on something else. Luckily your bag full of peaches was within arm’s reach. Quite a few of them had been crushed or otherwise mangled by the rough journey but you managed to find one that was mostly intact.

At least you had snacks…

---

It wasn’t easy to gauge the passage of time in a cave but you’d have to guess it had been around an hour. You’d had to go grab more twigs and tinder for the fire and the rain seemed to be slowing. That was something at least. Looked like the storm was going to stop soon. Then you’d have to figure out how to get Izzy and yourself back to the Revenge.

Before you could worry about that a low raspy groan caught your attention. Izzy was waking up… He immediately grabbed at his head, hand going for the injury at the back of his head.

“Careful!” You said, more on instinct than anything else.

His eyes immediately darted to you and after a brief moment where he seemed to take in his surroundings, he immediately drew his sword and pointed it at you and skittered away as best he could until his back hit the wall. His whole body seemed shaky and uncertain, the hand holding the sword was trembling.

You held your hands up in slight surrender, not wanting to freak him out any more than you already had. “Well, good morning to you too…” you managed, voice shaking slightly with an awkward chuckle. He stared longer. Not knowing what to do, you cracked a joke to ease the tension. “I know, the one sleeve thing looks great on Ed but it sure looks stupid on me eh?” You motioned with your bare arm for emphasis.

“What the fuck…?” He managed to hiss out, he looked genuinely confused.

You furrowed your brow. “Do you remember what happened?” You weren’t a doctor by any means but memory loss could happen with head injuries.

“I…” Izzy managed. He lowered his sword and clutched at his head. “I fell?” He mused, more to himself before a look of clarity passed over him and he hissed out “stupid fockin Stede Bonnet. Stupid fockin peaches.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, if he was pissed off, then that was back to the status quo for Izzy. “So you definitely remember then. How’s your head?”

“How the hell do you think it is? It fuckin’ hurts.” He snapped at you. He glanced around getting a proper look at your surroundings. “What the fuck happened?”

Glad that he seemed more calm and had stopped pointing a sword at you, you explain what happened: how he’d fell, how you’d dragged him here. When you reached the part where you’d taken his shirt off, he’d immediately looked down and seemingly realized that he was in fact, not wearing a shirt. He pulled your jacket up to cover himself more, looking almost comically like a blushing lady.

“Why the fuck?” He immediately snarled at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because it was soaking wet and you were shivering? You would’ve frozen your damn tits off if I hadn’t.”

He looked like he was moments away from snapping at you when he stopped himself and his hand immediately shot to his throat. Before he could say anything you jumped in, well aware of what he was about to ask. “I have it, don’t worry.” You patted the ring in your pocket. Izzy stared at you almost nervously. You probably would’ve teased him at any other time but you could tell he was genuinely concerned, so you didn’t.

You stood slowly and walked around the fire, choreographing your movements as not to take him by surprise. “Here,” you said as you gently placed the ring in his hand. He clutched it tightly to his chest, one hand clutching his ring and the other toying with the fabric of your coat. You sat back down and leaned against the wall of the cave.

You expected Izzy to break the silence with an insult or a sarcastic comment, instead you got a soft, shaky, “Why?”

“You wear that ring all the time. It’s clearly important to you and I didn’t want it to roll away or get lost or something. I-“

“Not the ring.” Izzy interrupted. You raised a brow. “This.” He motioned at himself and the cave around the two of you. “All of this.”

You didn’t expect to somehow get more confused after his explanation. “What do you mean by ‘this’? I mean, sure a cave ain’t all that cozy but it got us out of the storm…. Besides-“

“No!” Izzy snapped, clearly furious. You immediately shut up, not sure what to do. He luckily didn’t raise his sword at you but he leveled a finger pointing at you accusingly. “Why did you do any of this?”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what he meant. “Uh, you know that if I’d left you back there, you could’ve died?”

He nodded as you thought he might get it then he spoke again. “You hate me.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were just a given, a fact of the world.

You blinked. The pieces clicked together. “I don’t hate you.” You explained softly. Izzy scoffed, disbelief clear on his face. “No, I’m being honest. I don’t hate you. Granted you can be a fucking asshole. But, I only give you shit because you give my crew shit. I don’t hate you. And even if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t have left you for dead.”

Had he really expected you to just leave him there?

“Wait…” Though, that did raise a concerning question… “Are you telling me that you would have left me?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Of course not. You’re one of few people on that ship that knows what they’re doing. Besides, even if I wanted to, the crew wouldn’t believe me. Even if it was an accident, they’d all assume I killed you. But they actually like you. Even the captains. You could come back drenched in my blood and they’d still believe whatever you said.” Izzy chuckled humorlessly.

You stared, too stunned to speak. Suddenly, you felt awful about teasing him before. No wonder he was so incredibly hostile if he thought you could murder him and get away with it, that you hated him enough to do it. You buried your face in your hands. “Damn it, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” You glanced up to see Izzy was staring at you, confusion clear on his face.

You hesitated, trying to figure out how best to phrase it so it wouldn’t sound patronizing. “I’m so sorry for anything I did that made you feel like you weren’t safe with me. I doubt my words mean much but, I really wasn’t going to do anything more than tease… or hit you with a peach… Sorry about that too.”

His expression only got more confused. You watched as he went from confused to a little scared then immediately to annoyed. “Don’t pretend to care!” He snapped. “If you're planning on lowering my guard for some later attack, it wont work.”

The ‘it won’t work this time’ was implied. Sure, you hadn’t been a pirate all that long, but you certainly knew how awful people could be. You couldn’t help but wonder about Izzy’s scars. Had he gotten any of them from crew members who hated him? Just waiting for a moment of vulnerability to pounce.

Izzy Hands was making far too much sense for you all of a sudden.

“That’s happened before?”

Izzy all but growled at you for that then he actually looked at you. He seemed surprised by whatever he saw. “Of course.” He replied, again his voice matter-of-fact as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.

But you were undeterred. “That may be how some people are… But you’ve made it pretty clear how soft and pathetic the Revenge Crew is.” He didn’t seem convinced. “If I really wanted to do something like that, we literally would not be having this conversation right now!” You emphasized.

“Unless you want something from me.” Izzy snapped immediately.

“Well, I don’t. Not really. You don’t really have to believe me. But I’m not going to hold this over your head. Really, I would've done the exact same thing if anyone else got hurt.”

Izzy stared at you, eyebrow raised. After a long moment, he huffed and broke eye contact. “I can’t understand you…”

You sighed. It seems like the two of you got completely opposite things from this. You could finally understand at least in part why Izzy was like that, while he was completely baffled by you. You were saved from the uncomfortable silence by noticing that the rain had finally subsided. “Ah, the rain’s gone. Finally, we can get back to the ship.”

---

Izzy watched, pensive, as you stood and stretched, grabbing the bag filled with those stupid fockin peaches, carefully putting out the fire and generally cleaning up. He couldn’t help but notice your bare arm, the one whose sleeve was currently wrapped around his head.

“Oh, here!” You tossed him his vest, shirt and cravat. They were all in good condition. You’d clearly taken care to take them off without damaging them. Eager to put all this strangeness behind him, Izzy wrestled his shirt and vest on, keeping an eye on you as he did.

None of this made any sense.

You hated him. He knew that. You’d made it clear from the moment you’d met. You were Bonnet’s first mate, loyal to your captain and protective over your crew. You’d made it no secret that you didn’t like how he did things.

Izzy had been hated before. Of course he had. He had a position that people wanted and he was well aware that he wasn’t all that likable. At least before people had a reason to fear him as well. You didn’t. You had an entire crew behind you and with Edward so wrapped up in Bonnet, Izzy didn’t have anyone to protect him.

Well, except… You, apparently. You, who’d had every opportunity to get rid of him on this stupid trip even before the storm came in.

And yet, here he was. Unharmed. Not only had you not tried anything besides the same teasing as usual, but you’d actually saved him. That alone was completely ridiculous. But you’d done more than that. You’d gone out of your way to take care of him. (His ring felt like it was burning in his hand as he put it back in place.) Even if you weren’t going to kill him solely out of respect for your captains, you wouldn’t have needed to do any more than drag him here. Yet, you’d not only torn your shirt to patch him up, you’d given him your jacket and even taken the time to make sure he didn’t lose his ring, just because you knew it was important to him.

He tried to stand but he was quickly overcome with dizziness and nausea so he stumbled. He braced himself to hit the ground but… Instead he found himself leaning against your chest, your arms wrapped around him.

“Shit! Izzy you okay? Ah, fuck dumb question, sorry. Are you feeling dizzy?” Your voice was still so fucking concerned. No mockery. You gently pulled away, seemingly unphased by the fact that he wasn’t responding to you, still supporting him so he didn’t fall. “You… uh… can hang on to my jacket if you like?” Your words made him realize that he was still desperately clutching your jacket.

He hissed out a “Fuck off” on reflex but… Fuck it. He slipped your jacket on. It didn’t really fit all that well but it was warm.

You smiled. “How about this…” You let him wrap an arm around your shoulder. “I don’t think you should be walking on your own but I sure as hell can’t carry you anymore. For such a tiny man, you’re rather heavy…”

Izzy scoffed. “Not my fucking fault you’re a giant.” He grumbled. There was less bite in his tone than usual but it was absolutely still there.

You smiled at the insult. “I’ll take that as you feeling a bit better. You’re already being a snarky asshole.”

It had been a pain in the ass to clamber back up the hill he’d slipped down. Honestly, Izzy was surprised you managed to clamber down in the middle of the storm and not fall as well.

The walk back was generally quiet only broken by your occasional comment of “careful” or “watch your step” which, Izzy was realizing, you’d done before. He’d assumed that you were being condescending. But now, considering everything else you’d done you must have been genuinely warning him. The more he thought about it the more he realized how you’d never really been that bad. You teased and occasionally the two of you would get into genuine arguments, but you never did anything particularly malicious. And you clearly cared about your crew. You’d check in on everyone (himself included he realized suddenly) after a raid, make sure everyone ate, and, while you were far too lax about it in Izzy’s opinion, you did make sure chores got done.

Hell, considering how much of non-captain Stede fockin’ Bonnet was, Izzy had little doubt in his mind that you’d been mostly running the ship.

You were still soft. Too soft. But, clearly, it was working to some extent.

You were actually making far too much sense for him all of a sudden.

Dammit.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for the two of you to find the beach. The Revenge was visible in the water and even from this distance, Izzy could tell that it was undamaged. A dinghy was also already enroute and its passengers all immediately waved at the two of you once they spotted you.

Edward, impatient as ever, decided he wasn’t going to wait and jumped off the dinghy and waded the last few feet of water before sprinting over to you. “Izzy! Y/N! You two okay? Nasty one that was, huh?” (Any other time, Izzy would have probably chastised him for jumping into the water like that (especially after a storm) but right now, he was just glad to see his captain was safe. )

“Izzy hit his head. Pretty sure it's not that bad but he might have a concussion.” You reported quickly. “Is everyone else all right?”

“Everyone’s fine!” Ed replied.

“The ship?” Izzy asked.

“Fine as well, Iz. No worries.” Edward assured. A pause. “Well… Aside from a few of Stede’s books.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. Of course.

The dinghy ride back was irritating. Roach seemed determined to check Izzy for a concussion right then and there. Though, it seemed that he agreed with you. Izzy would be fine. He’d definitely feel it tomorrow but he’d live.

The moment the two of you set foot on the Revenge, Stede was there. “Oh thank goodness! We were incredibly worried! I’m very sorry about all this! The storm really surprised us.”

Luckily, Izzy’s head had calmed enough that he could pull away from you and lean against the railing instead. He quickly glanced around, the deck was messier than usual but didn’t look all that bad. His attention couldn’t help but drift back to you…

You were giving a quick report of everything (far more professional than Stede Bonnet deserved) before presenting him with the bag full of peaches. Bonnet was quick to announce that everyone was getting some kind of peach dessert that Izzy had never heard of as a reward for making it through a storm. Izzy scoffed. The reward for making it through a storm was being alive.

As Bonnet ran to the chef so he could explain this weird dish, you walked back to Izzy, leaning against the railing next to him. “I can handle everything up here. You should probably lie down.” You explained softly.

“Don’t need to lie down.” Izzy grumbled back.

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of having two first mates on a ship if you can’t take a break? I’ll get Captain Ed to drag you if I must.”

“Fine.” Izzy spat. A long pause. Izzy glanced around. Everyone seemed not to be focused on the two of you. “Thank you.” He said quickly.

You smiled. “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”

“...I’m still going to be a dick.” He confessed.

That actually made you laugh and Izzy couldn’t help but think that he liked that sound. “Duh. I’m not expecting anything to change. And I’m still going to give you shit.”

Izzy chuckled himself and nodded. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You pushed off of the railing and waved goodbye. “Well, I’m off to ask Stede if I can borrow one of his shirts for a bit. See you around!”

“Good luck.” Izzy replied, both of you well aware that you were going to be dragged into Stede’s wardrobe and not return for hours. You chuckled.

Just as expected, the moment you asked, Stede’s face lit up and you were immediately dragged off into his pastel colored hell.

Before Izzy could even take a breather, Ed was all but leaning on his shoulder. “Hi. You’re going to lie down.” His voice held the same force as an order. Izzy sighed, well aware that resistance was futile.

As Izzy was all but dragged back to his cabin, with a promise that someone would go check on him later, Ed decided to talk. “So,” His captain began with a grin that heralded problems. “Nice jacket.” Izzy’s eyes widened as he realized he was still wearing your jacket. “Guess you guys really got to know each other huh?”

“Piss off.” Izzy grumbled but made no move to take your jacket off. “My clothes were wet.”

“Ooh! So they saw you naked too?” Ed teased and Izzy all but short circuited.

“I- Ah… My shirt and vest were wet.” Izzy clarified, somewhat shakily.

Ed merely hummed. Izzy knew him well enough to know he wasn’t done. “So… when's the wedding?”

“Edward.”

A/N: Izzy’s one of my favorite characters so I have to be mean to him. Also, I've gotten a few requests for enemies to lovers with Izzy, so, there will be more coming soon. (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

#ofmd x reader #ofmd izzy #our flag means death x reader #our flag means death #izzy hands x reader #izzy has all the issues #ofmd #israel hands x reader

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