#the avengers of the beach

[age-of-moonknight]

Variant cover for Avengers (Vol. 9/2023), #7 by Marcos Martin.

[letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse]

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Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: With the storm well under way, Izzy resigns himself to a tumultuous night of self-loathing. Little does he know that something- or someone- will interrupt his not-so-peaceful evening...

A/N: Ooooooooh, boy! Hello, all! Did you miss me? This chapter. Wahoo! This chapter took a hot minute to write. Fun fact, it has the largest word count to date within this series. Isn't that crazy? Anyhoo, enjoy and I'll see you in chapter 4!

Content Warning: Angst, ANGST, aaaaaaaaangst! Self-deprecating feelings and blood. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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

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His world was violently swaying or more precisely, the Revenge was being pushed this way and that by the violent waves of the expected storm. But the weather beyond the porthole did not concern the silver-haired pirate. He had lived his life on the seven seas long enough to know when he was in a life or death situation and what lay beyond the glass, was not even worth his concern.

No, no, the only tempest that plagued the great Israel Hands, was the tempest that brewed within his mind. His earlier interaction with you played on repeat, tormenting and mocking him for how incredibly unforgiving he had acted towards you. The only crime you had commited had been caring about his wellbeing and being the bastard he was, Izzy had reacted poorly. Surely making you regret even acknowledging his feelings or perhaps ever acknowledging him. The words, 'I'm sorry' would definitely not suffice in repairing the damage between you he had caused.

In some ways, he wished that Edward had underestimated the severity of the storm. If the Revenge sunk, the First Mate would never have to face the consequences of his actions come daybreak.

A sudden loud clattering sound, followed by a string of muffled curses peeked the pirate's attention. At such an hour, he had assumed everyone, bar those on watch- had retired for the night, planning to try and sleep through the worst of the sea's displeasure. So, who the fuck exactly was roaming the halls?

On unsteady feet- well, foot- it took a major effort on Izzy's part, to make it to the door in one piece. Every extreme rocking of the cabin threatened to trip him up and the last thing he needed was to inelegantly become acquainted with the floor.

Upon opening the door, the sight before his every eyes was one that he did not wholly unwelcome but met with a certain degree of reluctance. He could never be disappointed to see you splendid self. However, after his antics in the morning, Izzy did wish he was not the one to discover your angered self.

Noticing something moge in your periphery, you quickly turned to face whoever had stumbled across your moment of distress but when you took in the unusually dishevelled and sleep deprived appeance of your First Mate, you could not resist the annoyance that bubbled up within your chest. "Oh, good. It's you."

Yeah, he deserved that kind of reaction and more, Izzy mused. "Nice to see you too, (y/n)." but then, as was custom with him, th silver-haired pirate frowned, confused as to why you were not tucked up in bed. "What the fuck are you doing still up? I thought you were playing roomies with your friends?"

"I was but then everyone got seasick." your grumbled, wishing your crewmates possessed a stronger constitution. The smell of vomit was sure to haunt you throughout the entirety of the night.

"Define 'everyone'."

"Be easier to list who isn't throwing up." the fallen cup rolled and tapped against your foot, as the ship violently rocked once more, reminding you of the unattended spillage. "Fuck, there's tea everywhere."

"Careful, you'll slip." Izzy was quick to hold out a stabilising arm for you to hold onto, as you ducked to retrieve the cup. Despite your earlier annoyance, you were grateful for his presence beside you. Taking a hold of the offered arm, you managed to grab the cup before it rolled further away, though there was not much you could do about the tea.

"Thanks."

During the day, it was not often that you strayed into this area of the Revenge. Your dyties generally lay within the confines of the storage hold, kitchen or rec room, should you wander away from the deck. If younwere not sharing a cabin with your friends, nor were you attending to one of your crew mates, that could only have meant... "The rec room is in the opposite direction. Who needs tea in this part of the ship?"

It was wishful thinking on his part, to assume that you had been bringing him tea as a sort of olive branch, after his earlier outburst. Perhaps you had known how horrible he was at making amends unprompted and were taking matters into your own hands. Izzy's misplaced hopes were dashed with your response. "The Captain."

The First Mate should have known better than to be an optimist. Had life not already proven to him time and time again that this was no fairytale, that he did not get a happy ending? Upon hearing that the tea was intended for one of the ship's commander, he could not resist a sneer. "Oh, of course Stede fucking Bonnet can't keep his stomach contents down when there's a storm, that fuc-"

"The tea was for Ed." you interrupted with ease, effectively cutting Izzy's rant short. You were in no mood to listen to his tirade about The Gentleman Pirate.

You could have laughed at Izzy's horrified expression. Stede Bonnet was many things but a terrible leader? You could never share the same sentiment as the First Mate. You liked the co-captain a lot and to see Izzy failing to believe that it was his captain, that had forced you out of bed in the middle of a storm, well, you were going to have to ask Lucius to recapture the moment with charcoal and paper. "What? Edward..."

"Yeah, your beloved Blackbeard is currently vomiting his guts up." you scoffed in a similar Izzy fashion. "I'm supposed to be delivering ginger tea to anyone who's even looking remotely green, while Roach tries to not set the kitchen on fire." as if on cue, you entire world kiltered to the right, slamming you body first into the silver-haired pirate."Fuck!" you cursed loudly.

Thankfully, Izzy was not quite as uncoordinated as you. Years of life at sea had improved his balance greatly. "You're okay. You're alright." he reassured you, as he held onto you tightly, making sure to keep you upright. "I've got you. Just...hold onto me." he did not know whether to thank or curse the God's. Obviously, you were in great distress. However, he could not deny that he was thankful for the excuse to hold you close. Hell, his pining was downright pitiful. Never had he been so grateful for just the opportunity to hold someone. If you could have read his mind, no doubt you would have pushed him away in an instant. Probably called him a fee choice phrases too, as you struck his face with you palm. Now there was a mental image...

Izzy's arms were wrapped around you. Izzy's arms were wrapped around you! Thank the heavens above! You could not help but lean into his hold. If only it were under different conditions, the snide voice in your head reminded you with a cruel laugh. Still, you had to enjoy the rare moments of closeness you both shared. They were so far and few inbetween. Call you pathetic, call you deranged- no, seriously, that was what the First Mate would call you if he knew just how in love you were with him.

Another tilt of the ship sent you both tumbling into the opposite wall. This time, Izzy had you caged between his arms, carefully not to accidentally crush you with his form. In the low light, it was impossible to see the mutual blushes that burned scarlet on your faces. "How the hell am I supposed to move around the ship when it feels like we're about to capsize at any moment?" you fretted, knowing that you Captain was waiting for his tea.

"We're not gonna capsize."

"Tell that to Poseiden when he drowns us."

With an uncharacteristic laugh, Izzy was quick to settle your racing mind. "We're not going to-"

He never had a chance to finish his sentence. A crash of thunder and a particularly vicious wave, had you both on the floor in an instant. The little light that allowed you to see went out in a second, plunging the hallway into complete darkness. In the confusion of the moment, Izzy lost his grip on you.

Which way was up and which way down? He panicked, fumbling around for your form. "(Y/N)? (Y/N)!" he called out to you, listening intently for any sort of a reply over the weathering cacophony.

"Iz?" where was he? you questioned, desperate to be reunited with the First Hand. You could feel a wall behind your back, so at least you were still in the hallway and had not tumbled too far. "Iz, where are you?" you gave an involuntary jolt when you felt a hand grasp onto your shoulder. "Izzy?!"

"It's me, sorry." he apologised, as a wave of relief snuffed out his main concern. He had found you. "Anything broken?" he could feel you trembling against his hand. No doubt if the lights were working, you would look equally as terrified. His heart squeezed at the mere mental image.

"Don't think so." you were running on pure adrenaline, any aches or pains would not fully present themselves until you were out of harms way.

This was ridiculous. You were going to get injured- gravely wounded- if you were forced to continue with your task and Izzy could not stand by and let that happen. You were more important to him than most on that damn ship. No, all the seven seas. "Abandon your post, crewmate and get in the fucking cabin. Right now. Edward is just going to have to fetch his own fucking tea!" Izzy commanded, keeping you cradled against his chest, as he helped you both to stand.

"I heard that!" the echoed voice of the once feared Blackbeard reverberated above the booming thunder.

While the voice sent a shiver of worry through you, there was only one- well, two men- who did not flinch in the presence of the myth, the legend. Luckily, you were clinging to one of those very men. "Good, you selfish bastard!" Izzy called back without hesitation, before he called out once more into the obsidian black, "Roach!"

"Yeah?" the voice of the cook replied, unsure who was summoning him. "God?"

"Fucking give it up man and get back to your bunk. That's an order! Everyone else, stay where you are! Understood?"

He did wait to hear any of the replies, there was only one person on his mind now, you. "Come on, I've had enough of this."

When Izzy had previously fantasised about taking the journey from the hallway to his bed with you in tiw, it had usually been under very, very different circumstances. For starters, you were wearing too many clothes. "Have a seat." he offered before something caught his eye. Before you could question his sudden look of concern, the First Mate was already gripping your chin and tilting your face towards his.  "Shit." he gasped, eyes roaming over your face.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, as you did everything in your power to not let your eyelids flutter shut. It felt as if every fibre was screaming, kiss me kiss me kiss me.  "W-What?"

"You're bleeding." he stated as a matter of fact, dropping his hand.

Well, that proverbial cold shower of a revelation was enough to cease your desirous thoughts and refocus your mind. "What, I am? Where?"

"Your lip." the First Mate admitted with a strained voice, the thought of kissing you running rampant through his mind. Why did you have to cut your lip of all things, as if you had chosen that area specifically just to torture him.

Your hand instantly rose to feel for the wound. "Oh." despite it's minimal size, your fingers drew away bloodied, as you felt a spike in pain. "Ouch!"

By pirating standards, your cut was nothing more than a scratch and yet, seeing you bleeding rattled Izzy's internal calm more than he was willing to admit. Life at sea was a dangerous one. Whether it was the elements, the blade of another's sword or even the lack of oranges- death was always nipping at your heels. The reality of your fragility was just too much for him to process at that time, Izzy needed to focus and at least prevent the cut from becoming infected. "I haven't got a med kit in here." he murmured, looking around his sparsely furnished room. It had become common place to have Roach patch up all and every injury that, Izzy had become lax with his own medical supplies. He had used the last lot of bandages to tend to his leg.

"It's fine, I'm sure it'll stop bleeding in a moment."

Thinking quickly on his foot, Izzy reached over for leather waistcoat, which he had hung up earlier on a nearby chair, before he had called it a night. Reaching inside on of the pockets, he produced a rectangular piece of brilliant white cloth. "Here, use this. It'll have to do for now."

You tried not to think about how your fingers brushed together, as you took the material from him. If only you had known that Izzy's mind was working double time, focusing on the same preoccupation. Unfolding the square, you noticed something unusual sown into one of the corners. "This is a monogrammed handkerchief." you chuckled.

His cheeks warmed to the sound. He was really in for it now, Izzy thought glumly, as he prepared himself for the onslaught of mocking that would ensue from you and undoubtedly, the crew when you eventually told them. If you told them. Had you ever divulged one of his secrets? Izzy could not recall a time you had indeed betrayed his trust. Perhaps he was overthinking things? "Congratulations, you have functioning eyes." he grumbled.

"Since when does the great Israel Hands own lacey doilies with his name on them?" your tone was interwoven with that familiar playfulness. Devoid of all and any malice. Just a sign that, for the time being, you were going to tease the ever-loving life out of the First Mate.

"Oh, fuck off. I was a gift from that twat we have to call a co-captain." it a moment of boldness, hecdared to gently nudge your side with his elbow. Not enough to jostle your too much, as you regarded the dove white fabric.

It was the finest handkerchief you had ever laid eyes upon. The thin accent of lace around the perimeter edge, screamed of intricate artistry. The fabric alone must have been worth a fair bit. Woukd probably buy a pint or five at Spanish Jackie's tavern. You were surprised that he had kept the pretty item, instead of trading it for an item he would actually prefer.

"You sure you want me to get my blood all over it?"

"I'd rather you just stop yapping and start trying to lessen the amount of blood on your face." there was no anger to be found in Izzy' words. He just wanted to see the wound temporarily treated. Thankfully, you complied with his request and soundlessly applied the handkerchief to your lip, wincing at it made contact with the inflamed area. Out of sight, out of mind, Izzy could relax somewhat and not have his gaze permanently fixated to your lips and his mind constantly begging the question, what would they feel like against his?

The quiet that ensued was comfortable, not awkward. Much like the many times you had spent the night shift together, simply stood side by side on the bow, playing witness to the inky midnight blue wonder, that was the sea and the sky. "Thanks, by the way. Not just for the handkerchief but for letting me stay in here." you eventually murmured, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night.

"Well, it's better you're here." and he meant that wholeheartedly. Things were always better when you were around, but true to his nature, Izzy quickly added, "Can't have you knocking yourself out or some shit. I'll need every competent pirate on deck first thing in the morning. Someone's gotta make sure this boat stays afloat."

"Right, yeah. Of course." did he dare delude himself into thinking he heard a slight inflection of disappointment in your tone? After another pause, you pulled the handkerchief away to examine the amount of blood. Hell, even injured, you looked exquisite. "Do you think it'll scar?"

"No, I think your pretty little face will be just fine." he responded without thought.

As soon as that familiar grin lit up your face, Izzy knew he was in trouble. Why had he used that word to describe you. Colleagues did not call each other pretty. Well, Stede fucking Bonnet's crew did but they were hardly atypical pirates. And you knew Izzy better than most, maybe even better than Ed, you woukd know immediately it was not just a turn of a phrase. You woukd see through any facade he put up to downplay the situation. You would know his little secret and surely be disgusted by him. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I..." his cheeks and neck burned a furious beetroot red. Not like this, he cursed his careless tongue for it's betrayal. Please don't let them find out like this.  "I, um..."

Little did the First Mate know that his fumbling response put a kibosh on any hope you had that the silver-haired pirate shared any of your feelings. It had been a fool's dream to believe that the great Israel Hands could ever fall for a mediocre sailor as yourself but still, you had put your faith in a hurtful delusion and you only had yourself to blame for the pain you now felt. 

Immediately, Izzy noticed your face drop in disappointment. His stomach twisted and knotted itself with anxiety, as he misconstrued your crestfallen expression to be the result of embarrassment at his accidental admission of admiration of your beauty. "It's fine, Izzy. I was just teasing you. You don't actually need to answer me." you mumbled, half-heartedly trying to reassure the man that you were not dispirited by his lack of interest in you.

"No, I-" he needed to explain himself, needed to make amends but why, oh why, would his brain not engage with his mouth. He was Israel Hands, damn it! Not some bumbling fool, like that moronic so called co-captain and yet, that imbecile had managed to secure himself a somewhat steady- if not, whim-prone- relationship. Why was it so difficult for Izzy to be as equally successful in matters of the heart?!

As the seconds slipped by, he was losing you further and further into your spiral of self-doubt. "It's late. If you've got any spare bedding, I'm happy to take the floor." you conceeded, wanting the night to be over and done with now. The fortuitous opportunity to spend the night in Izzy's cabin had become your very own cursed suit. You should have just told him to 'piss off' and spent the night failing to deliver tea to your fellow crewmates but nooooooo, fate had decided that that was too kind at situation for you. Instead, you had had to play witness to revelation of Izzy's disinterest in you and now, all you wanted to do was pretend to sleep until the storm had passed and then, you would flee to a new ship and change your identity at the earliest opportunity.

"You can have the bed." he offered, knowing it was only fair to offer you tge one comfortable place to sleep, after he had made you feel so uncomfortable, that you were dismissing him completely and wanting to hurry to sleep, so you could leave immediately once the storm had settled.

"No, this is your room, that wouldn't be fair."

It was late and in all honesty, Izzy too just wanted this ordeal to meet it's end. There was only so much discouragement one man could feel before he decided enough was enough. "Just take the bed, (y/n)." he sighed wearily, hoping you would not argue further.

Oh, how wrong he was. "But your leg-"

Just as you had only hours before, you made a comment about his wellbeing and without control over his response, he was quick to snap, "-I'm still capable of lying down on the fucking floor with one leg." Izzy sneered, sick to the back teeth of people assuming that because he was one leg down, that he was now incapable of living the arduous life of a pirate. That his disability had made him soft now.

But you just had about enough of his tumultuous temper. "I know that, Izzy! Fuck, you make me feel like I can't ever say the right thing to you." you spat right back at him, arms folded crossed over your chest as you hugged yourself. You used the gesture as a a form of protection from whatever vile response he would say in rebuke to your confession. "I just don't want you to be uncomfortable., that's all. I know your leg still hurts sometimes." the final part of your defense was mumbled, as you will to fight died on arrival.

You were tired. Not just physically but mentally too. He exhausted you  to no end. All you wished was to one day have a civilised conversation with this man, without fear that he would suddenly snarl at you in anger at the drop of a dime.

Despite your preparation of the onslaught of curses and vulgar language you had come to expect from talking back at the fearsome pirate, all you were met with was contemplative silence, as Izzy mulled over your words.

He had always known his short fuse would push you away one day. In fact, he was certain of it. If he were a better men, he would risk his entire savings on those odds. He would be a winning man while losing you forever. "Do you mean that?"

"What?"

Hearing you admit your frustrations, made the silver-haired pirate's heart sink into the pit of his stomach. Looking at you now, as you refused to return his gaze, made Izzy wish he could get on his knees before you and beg for forgiveness. "About me making you feel like you never say the right thing?"

"Well, yeah." you shrugged. Stede always preached that honesty was the best policy and as much as Izzy might have wanted to run thr man through with his blade, you had to admit, the co-captain made some good points. "I feel like I'm always walking on eggshells around you. One minute we'll be having a normal enough conversation and then the next, you're telling me to 'fuck off'. And I get that's just how you are and that's fine, I guess but it makes me really anxious. Like I'm just waiting to say something that'll accidentally make you angry."

You thought back to your time on deck that morning. How a perfectly fine conversation had ended with you humiliated and fighting back tears, as you had finished the dregs of your one hot tea. Knowing the crew had played witness to your talking down, had planted the seed  of an unshakeable sense of shame within your very core. You had felt Lucius's eyes boring a hole into the back of your skull, as you had fled the scene. You thanked your fair weather stars that something had compelled him not to follow you. The last thing you had needed was pity. "You know what, this was a mistake. I'm sorry, forget I said anything. I'm gonna go."

You had planned in that moment to make a quick exit. Well, as quick as the violent swaying of the ship would permit you. As you stood on unsteady legs to leave, you felt something catch your wrist and prevent you from fleeing into the night.

Izzy's grip was not tight enough to hurt you. As a matter of fact, in all your time in knowing him, the word gentle was not a word you would have ever associated with the First Mate. Yet, the hand that encircled your arm was not only warm to the touch but could even be considered as tender in it's gesture. "Sit down." he softly commanded.

You hated how the tonal change made you feel weak at the knee. For goodness sake, the man did not even think you pretty! You should most definitely have not been feeling flushed at him calmly ordering you around. "I'd rather not." you said, voice strained, as you prayed he would not notice how fucking whipped you were for him.

"Just...sit down, (y/n)." he implored, regarding you with an expression that crumbled your resolve to runaway. So, instead, you sank back onto the bed, trying not to get distracted by the feeling of his hand still touching your flushed skin. The sensation threatened to send a shiver down your spine. This, this was what the man was capable of doing to you. If only he knew the power he had over you. You were melting with only a gentle hold.

He should have let go. Izzy was fully aware he was pushing his luck. Letting his fingers linger around your wrist, even though you were no longer a flight risk but he could not help himself. He was not an indulgent man. In reality, he was deprived, hollowed out and starving for all and any scraps of closeness that came his way. So, he held on...just for a moment longer. Relishing in the feeling of having you beneath his fingertips. In another life, he may have even been permitted to hold your hand. What a privilege it would be, to lace your fingers with his. Oh, how he yearned for such a simple touch. "I know that I'm a fucking nightmare to be around-"

And right on cue, you jumped to your defense. "-I didn't mean it like that!"

"Will you just shut the fuck up for a moment?" he started, quickly stopping himself once more. Was that type of talk not the exact reason he was trying to make amends? With a weary sigh, Izzy wiped a hand over his face, finally freeing your wrist. Much to your mutual disappointment. "Please?" he all but begged, causing your heart to skip a beat. "I never meant to make you feel that way. Out of all the morons on this ship, you...well, you actually make my life a little less shit. I can't promise I'll totally change but," this was a completely new side to the pirate you had hoped but could not ever confirm actually existed. "I'll try to make it feel less like eggshells around here." "That good enough for now?

After years of fighting tooth and nail for survival on ship after ship, any shred of vulnerability had been locked away, out harms away. With a heart turned to stone, harmful habits had been acquired and for a long time, that had been fine. Acceptable, even. Then Stede fucking Bonnet with his 'talk it through as a crew' had come along and turned Izzy's life of piracy upside down. Threats, fights and all sorts of vulgarity were no longer the standard upon the vessel and truth be told, Izzy was struggling with the adjustment. He knew he needed to change for the better but he had never had to motivation to do so. Not until you.

Then the silver-haired pirate waited with bated breath for your reply. Half-expecting, half-wanting you to completely reject his offer. It would be easier for him to remain set in his ways, to not put in the work. Your refusal would only fuel his terrible mood. It would be easier for Izzy to accept your hatred, than your kindness. Such tenderness woukd only ever leave him question, why?  A wretched dog as he deserved only to be put down, not cared for by someone so conscientious and hard-working as yourself. You were the best of all of them.

So, when your tearful, "Thank you", left your lips, Izzy knew he was a goner. From the moment on, he would put in the work and strive to be worthy of your friendship. He had a long, arduous road ahead of him.

Maybe he could wait to start his self-improvement in the morning, he thought, as a yawn threatened yo spill from his lips. "That being said," he added, noting the way your glassy expression hardened, as you looked at him warily. "You're still taking the bed." he smirked, as unsurity morphed into incredulousness in an instant.

"Izzy!" your yell of exasperation only made his smile widen.

"That's an order, (y/n)."

Gently shoving his arm, you pouted. Glad the tense moment between you had passed. "You're not sleeping on the floor, you twat!"

Rolling his eyes but daring to lean into your side playfully, he scoffed.  "Oh yeah and what's your bright idea then, that we both share the bed or something?!"

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A/N: Guess what happens in the next chapter...

[lord-cherry-bucket]

The sunshines take their goths to the beach

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was at a beach bonfire with my friends and the Avengers. Captain America was frantically looking for his shield. Iron Man was glaring at me, because he found me annoying, but I didn’t care about his opinion. I wanted to roll around in the sand. So I did.

[carsonian]

Avengers film posters (ish) but it's just Steve and Tony and the things they've said to each other that I registered as turning points. A few of these I feel mirror the other's experiences either in parallel or as a foil. These boys are complex, got multitudes & whatnot

[doggoboxxo]

Sorry to my cec/Rae folks! I’ve been taking a break from the fandom due to some happenings,, here’s a beach bear :]

[2milli0n]

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Im curious because I think I might be crazy

Also what are the movies you guys are rewatching?

My thoughts on each answer:

Only Once: Your favourite movies!?! Really!?!? …Okay 🤷🏻‍♀️ I genuinely don’t understand how that’s possible. I pretty much only ever watch a movie once if I really disliked it…even then I’ll probably wait some years and try watching it again

2-5 Times: This is how often I watch most movies..even ones I only kinda liked. I like to rewatch everything before actually deciding if I like it or not. The thing is..once I’ve seen it about 3 times I start to get too comfortable and decide I love it no matter what. I do this with songs too

6-10 Times: Okay this one I’ll accept depending on the reasons. If the first time you watched it was within 5-7ish years then I’ll accept it. I will also accept it if its a favourite, not because it’s a comfort movie, but because it’s genuinely amazing and you don’t want to become apathetic to it’s amazing-ness

11-20 Times: There are definitely quite a few movies I’ve seen this many times. Mainly ones that are shorter and have come out more recently.

More than 20 Times: You are my people. You get me. I have seen an unreasonable amount of movies dozens and dozens of times and I will watch them more times. To add some perspective I have seen Attack of the Clones seven times since January. That’s not even 4 months…imagine how many times I’ve seen it in total :)

[shadowdoge9k]

doodlesss

[letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse]

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**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

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Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You and me both." Archie scoffed.

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

"Hey, Izzy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[men-men-everywhere]

Tom Holland

[annab-nana]

🐚 there are different types of soulmates, some are romantic, some are platonic, some are familial + the avengers (with each avenger being a type of soulmate?)

okayyyyy i like this!!! i think i'm gonna do this with the original six

also, it's a bit of a long one but i wanted to go a little more in-depth on each one so i hope you like it :))))))

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing

❀ masterlist ❀

you never knew how much getting called to fight thor's brother alongside six other people would affect your life, but it did tremendously. you held each of them very close to your heart and you felt you all made up each other. nat wouldn't be who she was without the rest of you and you wouldn't be who you were without them. neither would clint, thor, steve, bruce, or tony.

'soulmate' was a good term to describe the relationship between you all, but often when people hear the word, they immediately think of romantic love. that wasn't the case you and the avengers—at least not all of them.

bruce banner was a platonic soulmate to you. there were certain people who no matter how much you hung out with them, your social battery would never run out. bruce was like that.

you both wanted to be alone but not completely, so you'd accompany him in his lab. sometimes, you helped him out when he needed a lab assistant. other times, you sat in your established corner and read a book, filling bruce in on what was happening in it periodically.

what you and bruce liked most about each other was that you could find peace and quiet within one another. you were the one to calm the hulk down to get your bruce back. he'd sit silently and just listen to you rant about something without judgment.

if you wanted judgment, you'd go to another platonic soulmate of yours, tony stark. you did value his honest opinion and how he wasn't afraid to hide it. there were times when his opinion did hurt, but he was always right—irritating but true.

excitement followed tony around constantly. when you went up to his lab or his office, you never knew what you were going to intrude on. you've almost been hit by several flying mechanical inventions of his more times than you could count on both hands. but thankfully, you were blessed with the power of speed and really great reflexes, so you'd dodge it just in time while also giving him a wide-eyed look.

one thing you and tony really got each other on was anxiety. the pair of you were the most anxious people the rest of the team had ever met. unnecessary worrisome thoughts ran through your head faster than you could move and that was saying something. you and tony got each other in the aspect, but also, if you were alone together and super anxious, yours would bounce off of his and it would fester into something worse.

steve could often help with that and talk you through it—tony had pepper for that. there was a reason steve was the leader of your group. he knew his soldiers and how to help them in times of despair, just like he knew how to help you when your mind was against you.

steve was a good friend. you could talk to him like you could with tony and bruce, but instead of being brutally honest or a quiet listener, steve told you what you wanted to hear. maybe he was a bit of an ass kisser, but you appreciated it in times where you needed some uplifting.

you also adored his patience. sadly, when it came to art, you weren't the best, but you loved to draw and wanted to become better at it. steve admired your persistence and did everything he could to help you become better and you have improved over time—just not a lot so your work was still shit. he definitely may have you beat when it comes to art and drawing and stuff, but you wipe the floor with him when it comes to running, much to sam's liking.

you thought of thor as an older brother. he never failed to make laugh. he wasn't afraid to show that he cared for you. he was protective over you—they all were, but he and clint were on another level. he liked to run around with you on his back and mess around with you.

you think he treated you like a little sister to make up for the relationship he wished to have with loki if loki wasn't so... well, loki. and you took to it pretty instantly since your family wasn't exactly the greatest either. the only time you ever felt like you were part of a true family was with the avengers, but thor himself played a major part in that.

and in true sister fashion, you did your best to make him forget about his breakup with jane by keeping him occupied and having fun, but also being there for him when he was upset about it. to most people, he didn't talk about it, but with you, he did. it was a little questionable that you two never hid anything from each other. there were some things he's told you that you wish you could wipe from your memory, but you do enjoy getting to be your complete self when you're around him and for him to be able to do the same with you.

clint was like a dad to you. you figured that since he was already an actual father that he treated most people like that, but he didn't with the guys and he and nat already had a friendly history so it seemed to be just you. you both didn't mind it though. you never knew your actual dad so maybe you latched onto the closest thing you could get.

clint never told you, but when he taught you how to shoot a bow and then saw your wide grin when you finally hit somewhat close to the target instead of way off, it reminded him of a little lila barton doing the same thing when she was younger. you were like his home away from home, his small bit of his actual family when he was away with the avengers. you had met his family too and they loved you as much as you loved them.

clint was a good shoulder to cry on. most of the guys were, but you felt comfortable when clint hugged and soothed you before asking what was wrong. looking from the outside in, you wouldn’t expect clint barton to be that great at understanding and calming down a crying girl, but he was phenomenal at it.

lastly, your romantic soulmate. natalia romanova. natasha romanoff. your nat. you never knew you could love someone as much as you did her, but your heart surprised you. sometimes, it hurt how much you loved her, but she was the one for you and you were the one for her. there was no denying it.

it was interesting to see such a hard-ass woman have a major soft spot for someone, but you were lucky that that soft spot was for you and that you got to reap the benefits of being hers. she reminded you constantly of her love for you so you never had a reason to doubt it.

she was your everything. she was your reason for breathing. she was why your heart kept beating. she was who you got up beside every morning and who you went to sleep next to every night. it was her lips you kissed constantly, her hugs you savored, her body you worshiped, her words you memorized, her spirit you loved immensely.

so yeah, when you first got the call about the avengers initiative, you might've rolled your eyes and wished to be doing anything else. but now, you cherished that day and wouldn't change anything about it for the world.

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new!

come celebrate with me :)

[thanos-the-dad-titan]

Unbothered, enjoying life...

[deepdisireslonging]

Aphrodite’s Rock

The Reader keeps bumping into Bucky on work trips, but they keep the relationship conversational. During a trip to Cyprus, they drift together again and take a turn for the sweeter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings/Promises: swimming nude, Fluff, SMUT, oral (female and male receiving)

Word Count: 2830

Note: I didn’t swim, but I dipped my toes in the beach mentioned here a few weeks ago. It’s a beautiful spot and obviously inspiring. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Your friends called him your ghost.

They never saw him. They knew his name but forgot it easily. It didn’t matter that he would find you when you were with them or brushed past them in a crowded room. He was a specter, a joke you insisted on playing.

“Come on, Y/N!” “Woohoo!” “Get it, girl!”

You gingerly walked your way over the pebble line before floating into the water. Cyprus had beautiful beaches, but you never could remember to have your swim shoes for their pebble-encrusted coasts. With a deep breath, you submerged to wet yourself all over. When you came up, opening your eyes, you focused on your goal ahead.

Aphrodite’s Rock.

It had been a destination joke that your friends encouraged. In mythology, Aphrodite was born when Cronus (the father of Zeus) was ordered by his mother to cut the balls off of his father, Uranus. They fell into the sea, and the “foam” (a cleansed detail that always made your friends giggle) bubbled up to create the goddess of love and beauty. She swam towards shore, alighting on a rock before continuing to land. Legend said that if you swam around that rock three times, you would be blessed by her with eternal beauty.

It wasn’t your style to half-ass anything.

With a wink, you submerged yourself up to your neck. You threw your swimsuit towards land a minute later. Helen, your roommate, caught it and lead the others into cheers and hoots, swinging the suit around as you headed off to swim.

For the end of May, beginning of June, the water was perfect. The current swirled with both cool drifts of water, and patches warmed by the sun. It glittered and foamed with gentle waves. The first lap was easy. You waved at your entourage on the shore to much fanfare. The second lap started to tax your limbs. Apparently, Aphrodite didn’t give away gifts easily. By the third, you were struggling to continue the circle around the rock against the current that had seemed to gentle before. But you made it. Triumphant, you swam towards shore.

“Well done!” “How’d you do that so fast?” “Can you feel it yet?”

Helen asked, “can you go back and do an extra lap for us?”

You treaded water, catching your breath. “I don’t think that’s how that works. Even then, it was a tough swim. If you want eternal beauty, you have’ta swim for yourself.” The girls booed, begging you to swim around again. Again, you declined.

With a twinkle in her eye, Helen tossed your swimsuit over her shoulder. “Then come on out, miss beauty. Show off what Aphrodite gave you.”

“What?”

“Come out of the water.”

You sank deeper. “Nuh-uh. Not without my suit.” Nerves chilled the water more than the current as they continued to taunt you. Helen took a few steps back, making you jolt. “Please give me back my swimsuit.”

“Come out and get it.”

To your dismay, they retreated up the beach to the tunnel that ran under the road. A shop and the parking lot sat at the top of it, but that was too far without a stitch to help you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him. He was sitting on a lump made of sand and seaweed. Sensible pebble-crossing shoes, light but not loud beach-wear. And his baseball cap that struggled to hold all of his gorgeous brown hair. He stood, holding up the light jacket that had been at his side.

Before you could swim in his direction, Helen raced back. “Just kidding. Here’s your suit!” She tossed it high enough for you to catch it out of the air without having to move too much above water. The others showed up with your shoes, towel, most of your jewelry, and your phone to take your picture post-swim. They led you towards the tunnel. When you looked back, your ghost was gone.

{*}

“He was there!”

Helen rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the way you go on about him!” She sucked her teeth. “If he saw you swim, then he knows we’re gonna use you to get free drinks tonight, right?” She pulled you into the Cypriot beach night-life, drowning out your answer.

Paphos was the real destination spot for tourists. It might well have been Panama City Beach for all the tourist-centered activities, but there were restaurants, gelato, and plenty of people to have fun with outside of your circle. The others had already found what looked like a bachelor’s party, so you joined in. Music washed over you, filling your veins with energy and an ich you would eventually need to scratch. The more the night wore on, the energy waned, and the inch settled into a disappointed hum.

You broke away from your friends for a breath of fresh air. At the dock, a cold forearm sat itself next to yours on the rail.

“How was the swim?”

You smiled, looking up at your ghost.

Bucky hadn’t changed a bit since you’d seen him last. It didn’t matter where you traveled for work, pleasure, or the fun places around your apartment, he could always find you when you needed a quiet friend. It should have been terrifying, but something about him made you more at ease than when you were with anyone else. He never made assumptions, never made a pass. The relationship was completely baggage-less conversation.

“It was lovely. A bit rough at the end, but I made it.” You bumped your shoulder into his. “Thanks for trying to save me.”

He looked off to sea. “I almost didn’t. Kinda wanted to see what Aphrodite had given you too.” He chuckled as you gasped and posed like you were covering yourself. “But I figured you rather swim out to sea than do that. I’m glad your friend reconsidered. My jacket probably wouldn’t have been big enough to contain all your glory.”

“Shut up.”

“No. Really. I think you’ve got a glow around you.”

“It’s probably sunburn.”  You smiled as he laughed out loud.

“It’s not hard to get one around here, is it? Paphos is nothing but sun and hot sandy air.”

With a puff, you agreed. “Everybody wanted to rush from place to place. I kept having to beg to stop for water or shade. But today has been nice.” Gently, you leaned into him. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

Several minutes passed as you both silently listened to the waves. In the background, the nightlife carried on. But standing by Bucky, the world stood still except for the lapping of the waves against the pier. Without the sun, the formerly sweltering air turned chill. Bucky moved to your other side to wrap his flesh arm around your shoulders and to share his body heat. With a sigh, you rested your head on his chest.

“I should probably get back.”

“Probably.”

Another minute passed. A particularly loud song made the crowd cheer and sing along. You groaned and moved away from Bucky.

“Come with me.” You took his hand, trying to drag him towards the fun. It was like trying to move a boulder. “Please? One dance.” When he shook his head, you pouted. In a Hellenistic move, your eyes glittered with mischief. You leaned close to him, and whispered in his ear, “if you’ll dance with me, you can see me without my swimsuit on.”

Bucky gasped. He reached, but you were gone. Slowly you walked towards the club. He followed like a fish on a hook.

Inside, you waved at Helen and pointed at Bucky. She didn’t recognize him, as always, but cheered your catch. While Bucky went off to find a glass of water, she eventually made her way over to you.

“How’s that gift workin’ out for ya? Makin’ moves already; I’ve always envied your style.” She leaned on you and tossed an arm over your shoulder. “How do you manage it?”

“We can go back to the rock and swim around it tomorrow, if you’d like.”

She laughed. “Maybe. Will Aphrodite cure a hangover too?”

“Probably not. You’d have to find out where Dionysus hangs out.”

After calling you a nerd, she told you to make use of the hotel. There were enough men in the bachelor’s group (minus the bachelor) and nobody was going to need it. Even if somebody did, her parents had upgraded the group to a suite, so everybody had their own room. When she saw Bucky heading your way over your head, she wished you luck and made herself scarce before you could stop her. Another introduction missed.

Bucky handed you the glass. “That was Helen, right?”

“Mhmm. She’s convinced you don’t exist, but she also keeps dodging ever meeting you.”

“Someday.” Bucky let you finish the glass, then tugged you close. “About that dance… shall we?”

“Yes, please.”

{*}

Grinding. Pulsing. Bucky couldn’t keep his hands off you all through the dance, and all the way to your hotel room. The new and exciting feeling of his touch made you yearn for more. His lips pressed hot on the back of your neck as a distraction. You struggled to open the door. He nudged you to one side, fitting the key in one try before swinging it open, and spinning you inside. It locked with a click and his lips were all over you again.

He let you push him onto the bed so you could slowly remove your clothes to the faint tempo throbbing from a floor below. When you were down to his skivvies, his hands flexed against his knees. But he didn’t reach. Didn’t plead to touch. You stepped closer, slipping one bra strap down your shoulder, then the other. Turning, you offered up your back and the clasp to his next move. His touch was tentative and tender. The tips of his fingers barely grazed your skin. Deftly, the clasp popped open. As the fabric dropped, you pushed fabric off your hips and let your panties fall off as well.

Only then did he reach. His hands, one warm flesh and the other cool metal, caught your hips, spinning you. Brilliantly blue eyes looked up at you, trapping you as he pulled you into his lap.

For never having taken this step, you both moved like old lovers.

Your fingers dug themselves into his hair while his spread across your back. He guided you to roll your hips until you were gasping. His lips gently pressed against the space between your breasts.

“I wanted to let you know,” he said, moving his hands to slid up your sides, “you’ve always been beautiful.” Flesh and metal kneaded your breasts. “You didn’t need the swim. Aphrodite doesn’t hold a candle to what you have naturally.”

“Careful, that kind of talk has gotten girls in trouble before.” You ducked your head in embarrassment. You knew too much mythology for your own good. “Sorry, I don’t mean to ruin the mood.”

His face lit up with a smile. “You haven’t. I love that you know so much about the world around you.” He pulled you down for a chaste kiss. “You know where you’re going. Where you’ve been. You probably remember more facts than the common person has a lifetime to forget.”

That last bit was tinged with a sadness you didn’t understand. There weren’t words. You acted on instinct. Dipping your fingers under the edge of his shirt, you smoothed them up his chest. He helped remove the fabric over his broad shoulders, baring an expanse of skin you had never seen before. The scar at his shoulder, where his prosthetic ended, caught your attention. Your fingers whispered over it. Bucky flinched, but he eased your fingers to touch the line. He was trusting you with all of him, even if you didn’t know his story.

Watching him, you slowly leaned down to kiss the scar. The last dregs of tension eased out of his body as you laid three kisses down.

Then his flesh hand was gripping your chin, forcing you to stay still as his heated kiss took over you. It may have been you that pushed him back into the sheets, but he rolled you over to your back. Tiny gasps and moans slipped out while he kissed down the hollow of your throat, nibbled on the center of your collar bone, and kissed down in a line between your throat and stomach. Your thighs fell open easily. Heated as you were, both of his hands were warm on your thighs, holding them apart, spreading you out for his gaze. It didn’t take him long to dive towards your sex. Like a starved man, he licked and sucked until you were keening. Then he added his fingers. They curled and scissored, setting a shiver across your body. Combined, his mouth and fingers made you cry out his name. You clawed at the sheets. Bliss overtook you.

Bucky was there, his blue eyes boring into yours as they reopened after your release. Giving you as much of a show as you had given him, he unhooked his belt, sliding it through the loops as your mouth watered. Two pieces of clothing had to drop before you could see his glory. You crawled to the edge of the bed. He made you sit there as he fisted his cock in his hand.

“Please, let me.” You gently batted his hands out of the way. Then you took up the same pace he had been using. Bucky groaned, tossing his head back and thrusting into your touch. While he was looking up, you leaned down and took the head into your mouth. He snapped to watch you. His mouth opened in an unshed gasp as your lips moved up and down his shaft. You gripped his hips, rubbing your thumbs into the dip of the V within your reach. Bucky moved your hair out of your face and away from obstructing his view. Soon, he was panting, groaning, and his thrusting had pushed you back towards the sheets. You braced your arms back, determined to make him feel equally as good as he had for you.

True to your wishes, he came with a shout, filling your mouth and spilling over your lips.

Your touches turned ravenous.

He pushed you up the bed, kissing as much of your skin as he could manage. You did the same, gripping his shoulders and leaving fingerprints. His hands spread, squeezed, moved you around so you couldn’t tell what was up or down. Soon, his hard cock was sliding through your slick, catching your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

“Need you. Please.”

“I’m right here.”

He filled you slowly. You arched, loving the sensation of his stretch of your walls. When he paused, you rolled your hips. Begging him to move. To take you.

“I’ve got you.”

The hotness of his breath on your neck puffed with his moans in time with his thrusts. Faster and deeper, he filled you, spearing int your sex with wild abandon. Your moans matched his increasing pitch. Your nails scratched down his back, making him arch, which pushed him further into you.

Everything was moving, pulsing, and you were heady with pleasure.

Bucky’s hips moved faster, fighting the stutter and making sure you were ready.

“Cum with me. I’m right. There!”

You cried out, your vision blurring and your body shuddering. He shouted, bracing himself on the headboard as he filled you. Slowly, he pushed a few last thrusts into you, making sure you took everything of his release, and he felt everything of yours.

With a grunt, he fell beside you. Both of you were panting, heaving. You shared a look. And burst into a fit of giggles. You leaned over, kissing his cheek.

“What took us so long?”

He didn’t reply. Just smiled and shook his head.

You were almost asleep when he moved out of the bed. He came back with a warm towel to clean you up and a glass of water. When he finally slipped back into to bed, pulling the covers over both of you, you swung an arm over his chest.

“Please be here in the morning.” You yawned. “I want to see you in the morning light.”

With a soft smile, he pushed a lock of hair out of your face. “No promises, Doll. But you’ll see me again.”

Sleep was creeping in. “Soon?”

“Soon.”

{*}

You woke up alone the next morning, woken up by your roommates returning to the suite. But on your end table was a note and a present.

The ring you had lost at the beach.

“Until next time.”

You smiled. Slipping the ring on your finger, you began to get ready for the day, the trip back home, and considering where your job would take you next. And you daydreamed what “next time” would bring.

___________

Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

____________

Other Happy Bucky Fics:

 Sweetie Pie (S) 

 A Gift to Me (F, S, Christmas) 

No One Will Notice (Professor!AU, S)

[noxnthea]

What did Clint call Wanda when they went to the beach?

A sand-witch!

— Winterhawk, found family, beach episode

—

Fifteen yards away, Natasha opens a giant umbrella as Wanda sets down their cooler and bag next to the lounge chairs they brought down earlier. Bucky watches as Wanda ducks to avoid the spread of the umbrella, then only barely manages to throw up glowing red hands to deflect the frisbee Clint sends cutting through the air a second later. Sam, halfway to the water, jumps to catch it. 

Clint jeers as Sam misses, then flops down unceremoniously onto the ground next to Bucky. He spreads his arms out, burrowing his fingers into the sand. 

Bucky eyes his movements with distaste, readjusting the towel underneath himself. “You’re disgusting.” 

“Mmm,” Clint murmurs in happy confirmation, eyes closed against the glare, grin twice again as bright as the sun above them. “Happy as a pig in mud though. Only, it’s sand. And I’m not a pig.” 

“Except for when it comes to pizza.” 

“Valid. Or coffee. Or that one time with the PETA warlock.” He wriggles for a moment, then rolls onto his side. Sand sticks along his shoulders and back, obscuring the freckles there. Bucky reaches out to dust it off, letting his hand linger. Clint smiles up at him.“We deserve this, you know.” 

“Deserve what?” 

“A beach episode.” 

“A what?” 

Clint tilts his head behind him to where Tony and Steve are picking their way down from the parking lot, their journey made infinitely slower by the constant dialogue of consensual objectification Tony’s running at his boyfriend. “A beach episode — it’s the scene in the movie where the characters finally get what they deserve. The break they want, a chance to blow off steam.”

Bucky’s not a fan of the sand — he’s got a metal arm with interlocking plates, after all — but he can see the appeal. He nods. “Where we get what we deserve.” 

Clint lifts up onto his arms and scoots backwards to join Bucky on his towel. It doesn’t really work — there’s a reason they each have their own. And yet, Bucky can’t quite bring himself to make Clint move. 

“Mhm.” Clint bumps against Bucky’s shoulder, sending tiny grains of sand sprinkling down his arm. “It’s perfect. Tony gets to see Steve in tiny, tiny shorts, glistening with water. Nat gets to pretend she doesn’t absolutely love getting to be a tourist for once. And Wanda — she gets to be our little sand-witch.” 

Bucky snorts at the terrible joke, but it’s tempered with softness as he watches Wanda jog down the beach to where Sam’s already waiting in the waves. She’s got a smile on her face, hair billowing out behind her. She catches the frisbee as Sam tosses it to her mid-stride, delighted laughter loud for all to hear. 

No magic necessary.

— other halloween joke ficlets here!