#marco the pinepple

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 8: Page Turner

You took it easy Saturday morning. Simple breakfast, nice long shower, and you really did keep your work time limited.

Most of it was because it was hard to focus in the first place.

Marco had asked if it was okay to “pester” you with some images, and you said he could. You got a glimpse into the day of the life of the animal hospital, at least as it was on a Saturday. The receptionist gave you a little wave as Marco took a selfie with her. They both had cups of coffee from Sanji’s in their hands.

There were quite a few pictures of sleepy and cuddly cats and dogs. Marco’s hand was in almost every shot, as he seemed to be going through and giving all their discharges a final overview. Complete with extra scritches for the animals. One of the pictures was Chopper “in jail” on charges of being too nice.

His fake tears were quickly replaced with a smile as Marco took another selfie. He was wearing red-rimmed glasses in the picture, and you had to admit he looked good in glasses. The big, almost cheesy smile on his face certainly brightened your morning.

But it did make it really hard to focus on work.

One o’clock rolled around and Marco let you know he was on his way home to change and he’d be at your place by three. You packed your laptop away and got out of your pajamas, cleaning up a little bit before you got into your outfit for the day.

Nothing too wild; you wanted to stay true to your agreement, but you weren’t going to dig the chains and belts out of your closet from your college days and go all in. A pair of dark baggy jeans with enough holes and wear in them that you wore black leggings under them. The front pockets could hold a 2-liter, but it was a pain to dig your wallet or keys out of the deep pockets. You grabbed a t-shirt and a zip up hoodie to complete the look.

A small shoulder-strapped purse, over your t-shirt, but under the hoodie, gave you a safe place for your keys and wallet, and the black leather strap certainly didn’t take away from the aesthetic.

You mis-matched your socks because you were an adult and no one was around to stop you. Between the jeans and your creepers, no one was going to know about the socks anyway. The creepers were the closest thing you had to actual emo fair, so hopefully it made up for slouching a little on the rest of the look.

The last few years your outfits had been either professional for work, pajamas for the rare lazy day around the house, and a little flirty for the few moments could grab with whatever partner you had at the time. But now you were on your couch in comfy clothes, finding yourself oddly nervous.

If he’d been joking then, well, then you were still at home and hopefully you’d have the time to spare to change before you headed out to wherever you were going. But your larger concern was that you were going to be far too under-dressed, and the good doctor was going to show up with black hair and dragon-eye contacts or something.

You couldn’t picture it though. You could barely picture him in anything other than those scrubs. Scrubs that fit just snug enough you didn’t have to much wonder what he looked like under them.

The sound of SEL pulling into your drive got your attention, and you were already on your feet when there was a knock at the door. It’s like you were sixteen again, going on the first date Ivankov was officially aware of.

Opening the door you almost laughed. It wasn’t because he looked silly, it was more of a relief than anything else. Marco smiled back in return, seemingly just as relieved to see you wearing what you were.

The veterinarian was in oversized black cargo pants and combat boots. There was a chain twisted around his belt that dangled off to one side a little, and he wore three silver rings across both hands. A long-sleeved shirt was under the faded t-shirt, the text was battered, but it was a retro print shirt with a dusty blue color and gold lettering. Over top all of that was a faded flannel with the sleeves rolled up. The layers were warm enough he didn’t need a coat or jacket, but you were grateful he hadn’t dyed his hair black for the occasion.

“It suits you,” he says after a minute, smiling.

“You don’t look bad for an ancient emo, either.” You retort teasingly.

Marco laughs. “I thought about breaking out all the old piercings and dying my hair, yoi,” he grins. “But I didn’t think tonight was the night for showing up in eyeliner and black lipstick.”

“I would’ve felt a little under dressed, but,” you catch his gaze before continuing. “It wouldn’t have been too hard to share the lipstick at least.”

Marco’s ears go pink as he takes a step back, stepping down from the porch. He looks up and down the block real quick before beckoning you over to the edge with an easy motion of his fingers. You walk up to him, tilting your head up a little, and giving him a crooked grin.

Despite the flush of color in his ears, those blue eyes stay just as hooded as ever. There’s a second before he moves, as though he’s giving you a chance to step back. Once his gaze shifts from your eyes, to your lips, a single warm finger tilts your chin up just a little more as his lips press against yours.

Warm, soft, and just enough pressure to send a sweet rush through your chest. When your fingers find his arms, he leans back a little, just enough space that you see the smile tug at his lips before your eyes shift up to his.

“I…” You start, but Marco takes a step back, offering his hand.

“If we don’t leave now, we might not leave at all.” He says smoothly. “I’m curious to know how well my surprise will land.”

The soft, almost shy, laugh escapes you and you put your hand in his. “I admit, I am curious.” You say, as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you and waiting until you were situated before he closes the door. The refined actions are a little discordant with your outfits, but that just makes it all the more amusing.

“So what time are we going to that shop tomorrow?” He questions, pulling out of the drive. His arm is across the back of your seat as he’s turned to look over his shoulder.

“Shop opens at nine, and the more of the day Usopp has to work, the better.” You explain, struggling to keep your mitts to yourself for the first time in a long time. “It’s barely twenty minutes from here, so it’s not too bad.”

“The pretty bird is asking me to be an early bird, eh?” He smiles as he heads down the road. “I suppose I can move these old bones early tomorrow.”

You laugh. “I know you’re enjoying playing it up, but you’re not ancient, and I refuse to believe your bones give you any issues.”

“Mm, I suppose they do cooperate better than most.” He says with a grin. “Do you want to try and guess where we’re going?”

“Hmm… There’s not a reunion tour for any old bands,” you say, leaning into the word a little and getting a chuckle from Marco. “So, I doubt we’re going to a concert. You don’t seem like the kind of guy to have a first date at a loud bar, but you do seem like the kind of guy who enjoys dancing and drinking.”

“Responsibly, of course.”

“Of course.” You agree with a smile. “Are we going to the port-side faire?”

Marco shakes his head. “Nope, guess again.”

“Hrm.” You put your hand up to your chin. “It can’t be a walk along the beach, not after my jab, and not with combat boots. There’s a mall in the next city, but that’s a long drive, and I doubt you would’ve started the trip at three in the afternoon.”

“Do you moonlight as a gumshoe, yoi?” He asks with a laugh.

“What? Hahaha, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s just all the stuff I do at work. It’s very detail oriented.” You insist. “So I think in details.” You lean your head back in the seat and ponder quietly for a moment. “I’m beginning to think the clothing choice is not a useful clue.”

“Ah, and she gets warmer.” He muses.

“Are we going to stand out then?”

“I’m only answering questions pertaining to location, yoi.” He asserts, glancing at you with a smirk. “

You make a strange noise, sitting up in your seat. “Please tell me the Baratie has a dress code.”

“Hm, I wonder.”

“Marco, you-!” You stop yourself and take a deep breath. You were getting flustered, but you realized that you hadn’t asked if you were going to the Baratie.

“The first time you use my name,” he says the words evenly, but his ears and cheeks are almost painfully red. “And it sounds like that.”

Suddenly it’s too warm in the car and you can hear your heart thump in your ears. “I… I’ve said your name before.”

“It was always doc, or Dr. Marco.” He says, those blue eyes finding your gaze again. It was just for a moment, but before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling your hoodie up to hide your face a little.

There’s a few quiet moments between the two of you, and you’re not sure what to say. You usually use nicknames for people until there’s just no chance of things working out between you and them. Sometimes you use nicknames because someone likes them, like Bentham, who delights when you call him Bon-bon.

“I, um…”

“It’s okay.” He says, reaching over without looking and slipping his fingers between yours. The cool metal of the rings he’s wearing contrasts with fingers so warm, they’re almost hot. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, yoi.”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s… I guess I didn’t even consciously realize it, and when I thought about it, it was a little like falling down a rabbit hole.” You admit with a nervous chuckle, tightening your fingers around his when he starts to pull his hand away. “Unless you need it to drive,” you assert, managing to look over at him. “The hand stays.”

Marco smiles, flexing his fingers in response. “As you wish.”

“Dread Pirate Marco, huh?” You tease, and Marco laughs.

“For Halloween one year,” he admits. “Any more guesses?”

“Hm? Nah.” You shake your head, pulling your hoodie back down. “It’ll be what it’ll be.”

“Good, cause we’re almost there.” He states, pulling into a large lot with a few businesses scattered around the ample parking that was provided. It wasn’t quite large enough to be a strip mall, but there were easily a dozen stores and a couple places to eat located near one another.

You look over the stores as Marco drives through the lot, looking for a place to park. The small little collection of stores isn’t packed, but there’s still a decent amount of people out and about on a nice Saturday afternoon like this.

You put your hands over your face and hear him chuckle. “Shut up,” you grumble playfully. “I… just don’t want to know yet.”

“Keep your eyes closed then,” he instructs. “I’ll come ‘round and guide you after I park.”

You chuckle a little as the car comes to a stop. “You’re happy to be able to get the door for me, aren’t you?”

Marco hums. “I’m a little old-fashioned, sue me, yoi.”

You hear him get out of the car, doing your best to keep your eyes closed. Your door opens, the crisp air of impending winter rushing in, and you put a hand out. Marco slips his hand under yours and guides you out of the car.

“I’m not going to get to do this often, am I?” He muses, moving you enough to close the door and lock the car.

“I mean, if it’s important to you, I’m not unreasonable.” You pout a little, sticking your tongue out in his general direction.

“Keep sticking that tongue out, and I’ll start to take it as an invitation, yoi.” There’s a teasing vibe in his tone, and a serious promise in the words themselves, as his hand presses against your back to help guide you.

You stop, keeping your eyes closed, but turning toward him – it was easy to know where he was when he was holding your hand and steadying your back – and stick your tongue out a little. You can feel his body tense, and his breath is hot against your ear after his body turns toward you.

“You’re a bit of a brat,” he says, and the tone in his voice carries desire, and approval. His hand on your back wraps around you and covers your mouth as his other hand pulls the collar of your shirt and your hoodie aside. The motion is swift, but not painful, and your cry of surprise and pleasure is muffled by his hand as his lips and tongue assault the tender flesh of your lower neck.

Marco sucks the skin into his mouth harshly, causing you to grab onto him to steady yourself. As soon as the sweet pain hits, he stops, and a few hot kisses trail up along your neck, leaving you weak-kneed and wanting more when he stops.

“Haa-holy shit.” You gasp, leaning your head against his chest and taking a minute.

“Too much?” He questions.

You shake your head. “You’re going to have to push harder if you’re trying to be too much, Doc--.” You clear your throat, taking a step back. You open your eyes, but you’re only looking up at him. “I mean, Marco.”

His gaze doesn’t break, but the smile that slips across his lips sends a good shiver down your back. He licks his lips and lets out a small sigh.

“Close your eyes, yoi.” He says in a tone not nearly as commanding as you think you’d like it to be. “Let’s see how much you like this surprise before we move onto other ones.”

You laugh a little as he moves to guide you again like he was before. There’s a dozen thoughts running through your mind, but you aren’t sure how to put it into words. You aren’t surprised by his passion, you’d seen it burning in his eyes ever since you ran into him at Sanji’s café the day after you’d barged into his animal hospital.

He almost had an aura of relaxation that flowed off him, and you had to wonder how long it took him to perfect that. What happened to help him tuck his passion away safely? What kind of fire did he have that he learned how to temper so well? What little you knew of him had you a little concerned, honestly. The idea that his hardships could’ve been tremendous, between sailing, and the loss of his father, and effectively being the eldest son in such a large family.

Your family had been small. Smaller still when you basically ran away from them. You had friends here, it’s not like you were alone, but by all rights, Ivan was your only family.

“Alright, I think you can open your eyes now.” Marco says, stopping you both.

You open your eyes to see a decently sized shop in front of you. There were tables outside with people enjoying obviously hot drinks, with a couple heaters in place to keep the immediate vicinity a little warmer than it was. The exterior had a steampunk vibe, and the sign across the top was “Cups & Covers.”

“Is… Is this a café bookstore?” You ask, not doing well to mask your enthusiasm.

“It is.”

“I… I didn’t think I really said anything, so, how – why here?” You question curiously.

“You make good coffee, yoi.” He says with a smile. “And you left me alone in your living room for half an hour. The view of the backyard was relaxing, but you had six bookshelves that I could see, yoi.”

“You saw six full bookshelves, and thought, what this lady needs are more books?” You ask, laughing as the two of you step into the store.

“Was I wrong?”

You snort. “No.” You admit, crinkling your nose in a false pout. “Alas though, it seems your surprise date won’t land as you had expected.” You say it with a bit of a grandiose tone in your voice.

“Oh?”

You grin, whether he stepped into your trap willingly or not, it was nice to still spring it.

“This is hardly the second worst day of my life.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 20: Oratorium

You had been so sure.

Or maybe you hadn’t. Maybe you had already lost surety the moment the parameters were laid out before you. You liked control, you wanted control, but the way he said it, the promise of everything after, crumbled all the pride and desire for control you could have hoped to hold before it started.

Not that you think he did that on purpose. Not consciously at least. You could tell from the words that he spoke and the easy way he acted during your little competition that he wasn’t concerned about losing control. He’d do as you ask, following your instructions just as easily as he’d been willing to give them.

But every shift of his clothing as he moved. Every drop of warmth from fingers that lingered along your shoulders. Warmth you shouldn’t even have been able to feel through two layers of clothes! All of it just seemed to erode your resolve, your very desire.

And so, a couple hours later, one large stuffed pineapple as your prize, won by him, here you were. Standing in the middle of your living room, shoe-less and still. Waiting for him to tell you what to do.

So far he seemed content to just sit on the couch and look at you.

He’d taken his wool jacket off and was just sitting on the couch in slacks and a turtleneck. You could see his eyes moving over you, even in the relative darkness of the room. Neither of you had turned on a light, moving through the space just by the light of a few electronics and digital clocks.

“Having a hard time deciding?” You question after another minute or two of standing there.

“Maybe I’m enjoying admiring you.” He offers, gaze flicking up to yours.

“You were looking at me the entire time we were at the carnival.” You mutter, eyes slipping away from the intense stare. An intensity that was more impressive given the relaxed expression he had on his face.

“True.” He admits, standing up from the couch and stepping toward you. There’s a shiver that rolls through you as you feel like you’ve gone from being admired to being hunted. Glancing at Marco there’s nothing different. The expression on his face is unchanged, but something is different.

“It is a little difficult to decide.” He muses, stepping around you.

“O-o-oh?” You watch him walk out of your line of sight, and it’s everything you have in you to stay still as he moves around behind you.

Warm hands are on your waist as an answer, and you can feel him lean down a little to speak closer to your ear.

“Do I ask you to strip for me, yoi,” he begins. “Do I strip you myself? Maybe I  leave as much on you as I can, and take you while you’re still mostly clothed.” His voice is low, hot breath making way for dry, steady kisses around your neck as he moves the collar of your top aside gently. “Do I sit on that couch and have you ride me, or do I bend you over your dining table and just take you?”

You let out a gasp of air at the next kiss against your skin. “If you don’t decide soon, I might c-cum just listening to you.”

“Mm, that turned on, pretty bird?”

You nod, a simple yes falling from your lips in breathy shards.

“That desperate?”

Your fingers flex and your body tenses a little. “Get-getting there.” You murmur, feeling too hot, and too constricted as you were.

“Maybe I can just bend you over here.” His voice wraps around your throat with more demands than his hands. “Pull these leggings down a little, and hold you in place by your arms.”

One hand slips under your top. His fingers are like fire, hot against skin that’s been screaming for his touch since you got into his car earlier today. The other hand is feather light against your back, causing you to suck in a breath at a mix of pleasure and a ticklish sensation.

He holds you in place easily, fingers undoing your bra.

“I keep meaning to take my time with you,” he admits, voice muffled against your shoulder. “But every time I start I just want more of you faster.”

You make an odd sound, caught between wanting to assure him that he doesn’t need to rush, and wanting him to rush. He seems to take his time just fine as far as you’re concerned, and the idea that he could spend more time teasing you, or just looking at you, is a bit like being caught between heaven and hell.

“You… you sound like you just want to spend an entire day, um… just with foreplay.”

“It’s tempting,” he hums, finally lifting your shirt up and pulling it off of you. “But don’t panic at the idea, pretty bird.” He continues, tossing both of your shirts onto the couch before hooking your loose bra with a finger and pulling it off of you slowly.

“I’d make sure you came at least a dozen times during it.”

“Haaa-nnngh, heck.” You murmur, softly as he begins to undo your skirt. He kneels down, slipping it slowly down your leggings and having you step out of it, one foot at a time. “You’re, uh, a lot… um… hornier than I expected, doc.” You manage teasingly.

“The way you sing for me, pretty bird,” he says, looking up at you as he tugs painfully slowly at your leggings. “I’d be a fool to not listen for as long as I could.”

He pulls the leggings down a little further and you can feel the heat rushing through you as his movements halt. You hadn’t bothered to put anything on under the leggings. Between them and the skirt there wasn’t a functional need, and also you knew that it would have an effect.

Eventually.

That eventually being right now.

“Pretty bird.” His voice is a mix of restraint and inquiry.

“All night.” You answer the unasked question, eyes darting away from his gaze when he looks up at you.

A heavy kiss on your hip makes you gasp, looking down to watch Marco leave a slow trail of kisses down from your hip to your thigh as he pulled the leggings down. His thumbs and forefingers slipped along your skin as his other fingers worked the fabric down further and further.

He helps you lift one leg, pulling the leggings off from one side, kisses wandering to the inside of your thighs as he slipped the leggings off from your other leg. He tossed them easily onto the pile of your clothes in the corner of the couch, his hands returning to your skin quickly.

One hand against your lower back, the other on your leg as his kisses shift back up your thigh. You moan, shifting a little in his grasp despite your efforts to stay still. A hot wet tongue along the crease of your torso makes you twitch and gasp, hands on his shoulders as you try to keep yourself steady.

“Seems you taste and sound delicious, pretty bird.” He murmurs against your skin, leaving kisses against your stomach.

The laugh that escapes you is a mix of nerves and need. “If, if you say so.” You gasp as his hands shift, bending you back just a little as he stands, kissing you steadily up the middle of your chest. The kisses shift to your neck, and you hold onto him as his teeth move over your skin, teasing to leave marks on you.

“You’re… still completely dressed.” You huff a little as he turns you around, your back to him.

“That I am.” He concedes. You don’t have to see him to be able to feel his gaze moving along your naked backside.

You grin after a moment of silence and wiggle your ass. “Like what you see, doc?”

“Since the first day I saw you,” he says. You can’t stop the gasp that escapes you, and before embarrassment completely ruins you a kiss against your back makes you moan.

His hand is just above your stomach, fingers flat against your chest between your breasts, holding you in place as his mouth trails and traces along your back. You had no idea how sensitive you were, but Marco’s kisses were pulling gasps and shivers from you easily.

“Mah-Marco!” You  gasp as his other hand moves up the front of your thigh. “Please, please, you’re driving me wild, please!”

“Please, what, little bird?” He questions, against your skin. His kisses resume and his fingers slip between your thighs before you can answer him. Your torso leans into his hand as your legs part for fingers that slip inside your pussy easily. His thumb’s against your clit and your only on your feet because of his hold on you.

“Dont! Stop! Don’t, ahhhh-nnngh, stop, don’t!” You beg desperately, your addled mind flooded in pleasure and a little worried he’ll take your words as a request to actually stop. Fortunately, for you both he seems to know what you mean.

His lips trail along your back, nibbling kisses sending jolts of pleasure through your skin, adding to the pleasure of his hand buried in your folds. The sensation rushes you faster than you expect. Marco’s fingers curl inside you and spots explode in your vision. You cry out in euphoria and your legs buckle entirely as you cum on his hand.

Marco slows your descent when your legs give, holding you against his chest to keep you stable even as his fingers continue to tease you. The warm kisses against your back shift to your shoulders, a husky voice slipping into your ears.

“What a wonderful song, pretty bird.” He murmurs, the fingers against your chest flexing as he pulls a few more airy notes from your lips before removing his hand from between your thighs. He leaves soft kisses against your shoulder as you catch your breath and come down from your high. “Doing good?”

You nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… I’m good.” You assure him, your voice only a little airy as you lean back enough to kiss him. “I’m not going to tap out after just half a round, old man.” You tease with a wink.

“Old man?” He muses.

“Ancient.” You state, referencing a conversation that seems years ago now, instead of just a few weeks. Marco chuckles, his hands wandering over your hips and legs once you’ve got sense enough to keep yourself steady.

“I think we’ll have to get you a nice big fluffy rug.” He says idly. You hum, prompting him on as you can feel him looking at the fireplace. “It’s getting cold enough, it would be a good way to keep my old bones warm.”

You laugh a little nervously at the idea of getting railed on a throw rug in front of your fire place when you don’t have blinds on the big bay windows that overlook your backyard, but also at the idea of Marco’s bones needing any consideration at all.

“Does your place not have a fireplace?” You question, leaning into him with a contented hum as his hands continue to wander over you.

“My place doesn’t have privacy.” He nearly growls, teeth nipping at the curve of your ear.

“Then… I suppose I’ll have to find a nice rug.” You admit, a soft gasp leaving you as his teeth and tongue tease the tender line of your neck.

“Until then, this’ll have to do.” Marco says, turning you around and lifting you up until you’re on your coffee table.

“What’re you-.”

“Lay back, pretty bird.” He instructs, and you’re leaning back before you really know why.

“I don’t know if this is sturdy enough for, well, much of anything.” You admit, but even as the words leave your mouth you realize that it’s not what Marco has in mind.

Pulling off his turtleneck, you see him pull on a pair of thin, supple leather gloves. Something about the setup, with him between your legs, shirtless with the gloves on, makes your whole body shiver. The rush of heat through you almost makes you dizzy, but you aren’t sure what’s prompted him to do this.

“What- what’s… um…”

“I thought you might like this.” He says simply, gloved hands firm against your thighs as he spreads your legs open wide. His waist presses against you as he leans over you a little, running his hands up your sides, leaning down enough to kiss your collarbone.

“I - uh - yeah, I - hnnngh, haaa.” Your garbled words crumble into dust as the kisses against your collarbone travel down your breasts. One gloved hand teases one nipple as his mouth teases the other. Your body squirms beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist as your hands latch onto his shoulders, soft shivering whimpers slipping between your lips as he pleases you so gently it almost tickles.

“Gul-gloves, w-why g—loves!” You gasp as the ticklish sensation shifts more toward pleasure as Marco’s light touch becomes firmer.

“Is it bad?” He questions, sucking your nipple almost harshly and pulling a cry of pleasure from you in place of whatever answer was on the tip of your tongue.

You shake your head as his kisses slip down your stomach and his hands continue to tease your breasts. “No, no, it’s just… I never… I mean… hnnnngh, fuck me, why?”

“Because we’re still getting to know one another, yoi.” He answers warmly, his smile more reassuring than mischievous. “If you like it, I can keep the gloves.”

Your hands go over your face, you can’t match that look he’s giving you right now. “It certainly looks hot.” You mutter from behind your hands.

“Does it feel bad?” He prompts, and you shake your head.

“No, but, um…” You groan a little as gloved hands slide along your skin. Your body rolls from your shoulders down to your hips. It does feel good, you can’t deny that.

“You’re more for skin to skin, pretty bird?”

You peek out from behind your hands and give him a small nod. “I don’t dislike it though.” You add, moving your hands enough to at least appreciate the aesthetic of it.

Marco’s already pulling one of the gloves off with his teeth and the only thing you can think, is that you’re never going to look at this man the same way again. No one human deserves to be able to look that nonchalant while also looking that damn sexy at the same time.

You need to have him come undone beneath you. Even just once.

“Let’s test one last thing, yoi, before I take the other one off.” His eyes shift from yours down to your crotch. He leans back a little, slipping two gloved fingers into the wet mess of your slit. The texture makes your back arch, hissing in a breath as your hands go to the sides of the coffee table, bracing yourself as he pushes his gloved fingers into your vagina.

“Haaa-nnnngh!” Your moan nearly turns into a growl as he moves his fingers inside you, his bare hand sliding up your stomach, pressing into your chest to hold you in place against the coffee table.

“Different, huh?” He muses and you nod, eyes shut as your fingers and toes twist and curl as you work to keep your legs spread. “Better?”

You nod and then shake your head, and before you can say anything he curls his fingers a little, the rough seam of the glove pressing into your clit as his thumb teases you. Just as you start to feel the pleasure building inside of you again he pulls his hand out and you nearly collapse into the table.

“Is… is this going to be the whole night?” You question carefully.

“Hm?”

“You just teasing me or making me cum.”

“You don’t want me to make you cum over and over?” He questions, pulling the wet glove off and setting it aside.

You press your lips together and look away for a moment before turning back toward him. “I don’t want to be the only one cumming over and over.” You clarify.

“Ah, but I’m in charge tonight, yoi,” he hums, straightening up and leaning over you again. “Maybe I just want to listen to you all night.” He punctuates his words by leaning down and kissing you softly. Your hands go to his chest, your fingers trailing over his skin tenderly.

He shifts a little, deepening his kiss, and you can feel an unmistakable bulge press against you. You moan into the kiss and can feel a pleased sound rumble in his chest. You shift your hips, pressing into him greedily as you break the kiss. There’s barely a whisper of space between your lips and his.

“I can… I will,” you correct, your hazy gaze shifting away from his lips to his eyes. “Sing even sweeter with you inside me.”

You can see a flicker of light from somewhere, but you’re unconcerned. After your first night together you know it’s coming from him. Nothing from those sparks has caused you or your home any harm. The lights are almost easier to read than his face sometimes, so you’re grateful for them.

He shifts suddenly, kissing you deeply. His tongue slips easily into your mouth, hungry and hot, trying to steal breath and sense from you as the rough fabric of his pants push into your slit. His hands run along your arms, fingers tangling into your own, holding your hands as you moan and shiver underneath of him. The demanding need makes your blood rush through your body, the feel of his chest against yours sending sparks through you.

Just as you’re starting to feel dizzy from all of it, he breaks the kiss, giving you a swift peck on the tip of your nose before standing up.

“Stay there.” He says, walking out of the living room into your kitchen. You hear him grab the box of condoms off the counter, opening the container with just enough restraint to not rip the box to pieces. He tears a few of them off, setting them nearby before he kneels down between your legs.

“Just one thing I want to do first.” He says, pushing your legs wide and giving you one more look before leaning down. “I got too caught up in things the last time, and I bet this song’s the sweetest.”

Your hands are over your mouth before he begins, but you feel one of his hands leave your thigh as he pulls your hands away from your face.

“Don’t.” He says simply, and you bring your hands down to your sides.

Soft kisses against the insides of your thighs have hot and heavy breaths falling from your lips before he even truly begins. Fingers slip along your thighs, trailing behind the kisses, holding your legs apart as his thumbs spread your labia.

Hot breath against your wet folds makes your body tense, your fingers curling against the sides of the coffee table. The first press of his lips against your clit tenses your legs, but he takes his time, placing kisses where he pleases, flicking his tongue over your clit every now and then. You can feel his lips tighten in a smile, or soft puff of air as he chuckles, every time he pulls a shivering, shallow moan from you.

The teasing is enough to drive you wild on its own, but just as you’re ready to beg him to do more, he finally dives in entirely. His name on your lips is overtaken in the rush of pleasure as the first cry is ripped from your throat. Your hands are on his head, body taut and toes curling as his tongue pushes deep into your dripping pussy.

His nose, or thumb, or lips push into your clit, you can’t tell. All you can feel is the pleasure of the sensation as he devours you. He seems to give you a moment of reprieve, until his tongue circles your clit, his teeth and lips sucking and nibbling on it until your fingers are curled in his hair.

You don’t know what to say, to beg or plead; to call his name or call him master, to confess the terrifying feeling in your chest and put a word to it, or to keep your heart where it was. Your brain can’t find the thread that makes your mouth work and instead you just cry out half-swears to god and sea, severed expletives dribbling from between your teeth as he demands your body cum for him again.

The tension snaps, and pleasure floods through you in a rush with his tongue buried deep inside you. You can feel yourself throbbing against his tongue as he seems determined to drink every drop of pleasure from you.

A soft babble of over stimulation has your lips and legs twitching before he stops.

Wiping his mouth, he takes your hands in his gently. His fingers and thumbs massage your palms while he leaves soft kisses against the tips of your fingers, giving you a few moments to catch your breath and come down from your high.

When you’re eyes finally focused on him again he smiled. “Quite the song, pretty bird.” He muses, shifting again so that he’s leaning over you a bit, fingers moving idly against yours. He leans down and presses a soft kiss against your stomach. “How are you holding up?”

You smile, leaning your head back and breathing deep. “You haven’t worn me out yet… old man.” You say teasingly.

“Are you trying to get into trouble?” He muses, kissing you again before he helps you sit up on the table.

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t like it?” You retort, curling your legs around his waist and slipping your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m just making sure you’re not trying to be a brat.” He murmurs, trailing soft kisses from your lips to your neck. “I can be a brat-tamer if you want.”

“Haaa - I don’t know how to answer that right now.” You admit, letting a content moan out as he kissed into your neck a little more firmly.

“We’ll worry about dynamics another day then.” He mumbles against your skin before lifting you up as he stands. You give a small squeak, not expecting to be picked up so easily. Your legs and arms reflexively tighten around him, but the firm grip he has on your ass isn’t going to let you go anywhere.

A few soft kisses, and a swaying movement almost like a slow dance, and eventually Marco sits on the couch, with you straddled atop him.

“Like dancing, doc?” You hum, leaning your chest against his, exchanging a few soft kisses as he smiles.

“I can be tempted.” He answers you, shifting you up a little before he moves his hands to start undoing his belt.

You laugh softly. “I’d… have to be taught,” you admit with a bit of a sigh. “I’ve danced before, I can move my feet, but I’ve never really danced with someone. I stepped on enough toes during school that I didn’t really try after that.” As you talk you let your lips wander, kissing down his neck, nipping at the shell of his ear, listening to the soft hitches in his breath.

“Need help?” You question quietly, hearing him deal with the condom wrapper.

“I’ve endured your brand of help once already, yoi.” He grins, accepting a kiss from you as you feel his hands shift more. “I got it, pretty bird.”

“Got me too,” you breathe the words, eyes more on his lips than his eyes, glancing up shyly as he guides you and you shift down. Your hands are on the front of his shoulders, keeping yourself steady as you feel the head of his cock press against your slit.

“Look at me, pretty bird.” His voice is soft. It’s a request, more than a command. A wish.

You can feel the heat rush through your body, pulling your eyes up to his gaze. You can feel his fingers flex against you, pulling a quiet gasp from your lips. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes on his, but not an uncomfortable one.

“There you go, keep your eyes on mine, yoi.” He purrs the words, pushing into your pussy slowly. “I want to see that sweet face of yours as I fill you up.”

“Haa, haaa-nnnngh, that’s - that’s,” you gasp, the slow steady stretch sending pleasure skittering through your body. Your whole body is twitching and trembling, and only half of it is the physical sensation of him going deeper and deeper.

The other half are his eyes on you. The way he looks so relaxed still, but you can see his pupils are wide, taking in every detail he can get his hands on. It almost felt like you were being recorded, though you knew better, he was just enthralled by every gasp and twitch.

Enthralled by you.

The revelation rips through you like a spark, and you gasp, fingers flexing against him as he finishes sinking into you. The pleasurable feeling that soaks into you causes you to sink into Marco, leaning against his chest with a muffled moan, and finally breaking eye contact with him.

“Does it feel that good?” His question is rhetorical, the surety obvious in the tone of his voice. He uses his grip on your ass to shift you up slowly, making you twitch more before he lowers you down faster than before.

The action pulls his name from your lips as you tense against him.

“Are you going to stay hidden in my chest like this?” He murmurs, lips kissing the side of your face. “You can, if you want, but,” his hand shifts and his fingers are under your chin, pulling your face toward his and leaning you back slightly. “If you lean back a little, and put your hands on my legs, you can ride me, pretty bird.”

He leans you back a little further, leaning forward with you enough to kiss you before you can answer him. One hand keeps your head in place, the other is braced against your back. You have one of your hands on his arm, the other already reaching back to brace against his leg. The deep kiss addles your brain a little, but it’s more pride that helps you.

He did win, after all, and even if his gaze left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, you knew you could trust him. Even if feeling like this was new for you.

You lean back enough to break the kiss, putting both of your hands behind you, bracing yourself against his legs as you used the leverage to move your hips. The position and angle had his cock hitting you in the same spot he’d curled his fingers into earlier.

Again it was his eyes on you, more than the act, that had you twitching as you rode him.

“Marco,” you huff, looking up at him and catching his eyes shifting over your body before he looked back at you. “T-touch me. Please. Don’t just… don’t just look.”

“As you wish,” he replies after taking a moment longer to simply watch you. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping your hips. He helps you move for a moment, pushing up into you with slow thrusts, making your legs part even further and settling you into him deeper than you could go on your own.

“It’s… not fair,” you huff, eyes tracing the lines of his tattoo as his hands shift again, leaving you to ride him on your own.

“What’s not fair?”

“You feel so good!” You nearly bark the words, picking up your pace in the mix of desire and frustration. “Your hands, your gaze, the sound of your voice! And, y-your - shit… your - nnnngh - fucking cock.” You huff, taking a small pleasure in seeing his eyes slightly widen. “I’m, haaa, at your mercy and… I’ve never been… but I want to be.”

Not everything you mean to say is leaving your lips. Even in your ecstasy you can’t quite bring yourself to be so vulnerable. Even as much as you trust him, as much as you want him. It’s barely been any time at all, you almost wonder what’s wrong with you to fall so hard, so fast, and so recklessly.

His hands move up your sides, fingers slipping over the curve of your breasts before his fingers begin to tease the stiff flesh of your nipples. His touch makes your entire body tense and your breath is rushing out past your lips in hot, whimpering gasps.

“It’s you too,” he says after a moment. His eyes are sharp, but there’s a shiver in his voice when he speaks. “The sound and sight of you. Your scent and touch.” He pulls you close, tongue and lips against your collarbone, moving up to your neck. His hands keeping you moving, not letting your pace falter.

“The idea of selling the clinic,” he huffs, fingers flexing against your skin. “Just to spend more time with you…” The thought dies on his lips, as your eyes meet before he kisses you. There’s a desperation between the two of you, and there’s relief in knowing it’s not just you.

“Don’t you dare.”

He smiles, pulling you closer as he leans back against the couch, hands on your hips, helping you ride him while you’re against his chest again.

“I won’t, pretty bird.” He promises, his hips thrusting up into you almost more than he’s moving you. “Cum for me, yoi. Look at me while you do.” He demands, grinning as your face twists in a mix of embarrassment and a desire to do as he asks. His simple demand had made your entire body tense and you nearly came just from his words alone.

“Try,” you gasp, gaze shifting to his lips for a split second before you look back to his eyes. “I’ll try, but please - d-don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what?” he hums, and you’re almost positive he knows what you mean already.

You shake your head. “I’m, almost there… please, Marco, don’t stop.” You gasp the words, hazy eyes down to his lips for a second again. This time when you look up at him he has a look on his face that’s almost dangerous. It’s still relaxed, hooded eyes, an easy smile, but there’s something that makes the small hairs on your body stand on end.

“Look at me,” he demands, and your eyes stop shifting around his face. You know what the next words are going to be, you know you could probably stop him, but you’re so close, and you want to. You want to submit.

No, you want him to unravel beneath you, at least once.

Just, not right now.

“Cum for me.”

A whimpered plea falls from your lips, but your body tenses, and the orgasm you didn’t even want to struggle against in the first place rushes through you. Marco’s lips are against your neck, teeth grazing over the tender flesh, caught between need and restraint, bringing himself over the edge with you with a few rough thrusts that pushes the air trapped in your throat by your orgasm free.

Sweat slicks your bodies, and your rest your head against his shoulder, breathing hard. You can feel his heart thundering in his chest, beating against the frantic thump of your own.

“Did you really just cum because I told you to?” Marco questions. His hand’s moving down your back idly, and when you don’t answer right away you can feel him look toward you.

“I was already close.” You insist, but you can’t bring yourself to turn and look at him, and you know exactly what that’s going to make him think. The truth of it has your face so hot you’re surprised you aren’t burning his skin.

His fingers slip along your hair, holding you tightly against his chest for a moment before he murmurs into your ear.

“We should test it, yoi.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 12: The Firebird

Getting out of the car, you already saw Kid leaning against one of the bay door frames. The day was barely started and he was already covered in grease, shop uniform giving way. Knowing him he’d been working all night and hadn’t slept yet, versus having gotten up early enough to be in that state.

“Usopp here yet?” You call out, heading up to the shop proper, Marco coming up behind you.

“Yep,” Kid answers, squinting against the morning light as he cleans his hand up a little with a rag that’s seen brighter days. “Only just got here though, so you haven’t kept ‘im waiting much, Mouse.”

You roll your eyes and jerk your thumb toward Marco. “Eustass Kid, Newgate Marco,” you step aside as Marco steps up. “Marco, Kid.” You say, finishing your lazy introduction.

“Pleasure.” Marco says, taking Kid’s mostly de-grimed hand and giving it a shake.

“Sure thing.” Kid tilts his head toward the parking lot. “That yours?”

Marco looks back at his car and smiles as he looks back at Kid. “It is.”

“… Lemme put her up on a rack so I can get a good look at ‘er and I got a hood arm for you, no other charge.” Kid offers, still squinting against the light. Looking back and forth between the two of them you realize Marco’s the only person you know who could look Kid in the eye, damn giants.

Somehow Marco looks smaller than Kid, but probably because he’s not nearly as broad.

Marco looks to you and you smile. “I’m not gonna lie, I’ll be under the rack getting my fill too, if you’re okay with it.”

Marco chuckles. “Alright, it’s a solid deal, yoi.” He admits. “I’ll bring the car up. That bay?” He asks, pointing to one that looks like it has a lift in it.

“Yup.” Kid answers, his tone a little more friendly and a little less business.

“I’ll go talk to Usopp while you do that, and get things rolling.” You state, heading into the shop proper to find your car and Usopp.

The young artist is setting up his gear near your car. You start to say something to him, but the sight of your car catches your attention. In several pieces to make it easier for the paint job, everything has been reworked. If it wasn’t for the distinct body style and design of the interior, you’d almost wonder if it was your car.

“We either replaced or refurbished just about everything.” A familiar voice says from behind you. Looking over you see the wild blonde hair of Kid’s childhood friend Killer, one of the co-owners of the shop, poking out from behind the frame of a van with flames down the side of it. He turns to get a better look at you, lifting up his welding mask and giving you a smile.

“We kept what we could, but strictly original parts barely make up 10% of her now.”

“Did you guys redo the entire frame then?” You question, giving a wave to Usopp as Killer comes over to walk you through what they did to the car.

“Just about. You didn’t have near as much rust as we expected to find. Kid might not say so, but you took care of her really well, honestly. The engine had to be scrapped. There wasn’t enough machining to save it, and truthfully, the newer engines are just far too efficient.” Killer starts pointing at a few places while he explains. “Replaced all the clips and lines, new brake assemblies and tires. You got that sky blue base color, so we went with white for the interior. You had that dingy 70s silver before, so Kid didn’t think it was too different to bother saying something before hand.”

“Nah, white’s fine. It’ll be a challenge to keep clean, but y’all do detail jobs, right?”

“A-yup. Heat an’ Wire mostly, but I don’t think you’d hear a single complaint if this was the car they were cleaning.” Killer continues on. “Left the manual windows, and there’s an emergency release for the seat, but we did add fully adjustable controls to the seats.”

“Oh, programmable?” You prompt and Killer tilts his head.

“Here Kid was worried you’d be irritated by technology invading your precious time-capsule.” Killer grunts and you wave him off. “Yeah, you can put things were you want and save three different settings, so have fun with that. It’s still good old fashioned key-bound entry,” he continues on. “Kid says since you won’t have to worry about jumping her with the new, well, everything, that we could set you up with one of those magnetic keys for extra security if you wanted?”

“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it. Restored like this I’m going to have to get a new coverage policy, that’s for sure. It’d be cheaper on my end with the added security of a fancy key like that. Any chance I could have three for this car?”

“Three keys?”

You nod. “For now, one for me, one for the shop, and one for my house, in case I lose the one I keep with me.”

Killer tilts his head a little, and then nods. “I don’t see why not. I think we can order up to four for a single ignition without raising any concerns.”

“Perfect.”

“Whaddya think of her now, Mouse?” Kid asks, coming over to where you are with Marco not far behind.

“I think I’m going to go kick Victoria’s tires if you don’t stop calling me that.” You grumble.

Kid snorts. “Yeah, well, don’t kick Vicky’s tires, or your new car’s tires.” He warns. “Steel-belted, you might actually break a toe.”

“Hells Kid, are the windows bullet proof too? The security on this is already high enough as it is.” You tease, and Kid seems to consider.

“I mean, they could be.” He muses.

“No, no, that’s -,” you pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head. “Thanks Kid, you guys did a great job.”

“Of which you had no doubt.” Kid retorts. It’d be arrogant, but he and the guys have the skills to back up his statement.

You smile and sigh, seeing no reason to give him an actual response. You turn to Usopp and give him a smile. He’s the only person in the entire shop that isn’t towering over you, it’s refreshing.

“Let’s talk design, Usopp.” You begin cheerfully. “The faster we get on the same page the faster I can look under Marco’s car’s skirt.” You hear Marco cough as Usopp laughs. Pulling a paper out of your pocket you unfold it and hand it off to Usopp. “I was thinking this kind of design.”

Usopp looks at it, looks to your car, and looks back at it. “That’s the original insignia design for the most part, isn’t it?”

You nod. “The expansion of the tail feathers would be unique, and I was thinking, one chain could go down each side of the car, and the third could come down through the headlight assembly?”

He tilts his head and looks back and forth again. “Yeah, I can see it. Do you know what colors you want to go with?”

“I think so. So if we do the outline of the wings in a kind of teal, with a metallic gold accent? I was thinking maybe a less metallic gold and more of a… hmm… dandelion gold for the chains.”

“Hm… rimmed in the metallic gold would be a nice touch.” He offers.

“Ooooh, yeah, that would. If the clear coat was a gloss finish too and not matte that would add to it.” You agree.

You’re too distracted with Usopp to notice, as Marco covers his face with a hand, listening to the two of you talk. Kid notices, looking over at him for a second before looking back at you. He keeps his voice low.

“You alright?”

“Huh? Oh - yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

“Wait, what if we invert the gold and yellow on the chain?” You prompt, and Marco makes a strange pained sound only Kid hears.

“You sure?” Kid presses a little. “If you’re going to hurl in my shop, step outside first.”

“No, I’m fine, yoi.”

Kid’s eyes narrow for a moment, and he seems about to say something when his eyes go wide.

“Oi, Mouse, I’m borrowin’ your boy toy for a minute.” He barks, grabbing Marco’s collar and pulling him away from everyone else.

“Hey, hey, don’t you-!”

“It’s alright.” Marco says, waving you off and giving you a smile as he and Kid go to the other side of the shop.

Your face twists a little, but Killer pats your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on ‘im, stay focused with Usopp for a bit.”

“Yeah, thanks Killer.” You murmur, turning back toward Usopp after giving Kid and Marco one more glance. Kid didn’t look happy, but Marco didn’t look bothered, so you did your best to pull your attention back to Usopp.

“The phoenix?!” Kid hisses, caught between disbelief and anger. “You’re Marco the gods-damned phoenix?!”

“Was.” Marco answers flatly. “Twenty years ago. Been a vet for over a decade.”

“The Whitebeard pirates were legendary.” Kid states. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. Caught between admiration and disbelief, he finally settles on the only thing that’s coming to mind for him. “Is she in danger?”

“No one’s been safe since Roger tried to right the world.” Marco answers a little more sourly than he means to. “But in danger because of me? No, not so far as I know. We stopped being pirates and the government stopped being a problem. Less trouble to just leave us be, yoi.”

“… Are you really immortal?” Killer asks, looking over his shoulder and giving a thumbs up before turning his attention back to the other two.

“I age,” Marco replies, tilting his head a little. “Past that, I don’t know. Nothing’s even so much as left a scar on me, yoi. But I’m not exactly testing the limits of things by taking care of cats and dogs.” He’s quiet for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked with her about this yet, so I’d prefer-.”

“I’m not going to snitch,” Kid grumbles. “Talking about that stuff’s gotten fuckin’ touchy over the years, and considering mine keeps the shop running smooth I ain’t so stupid as to go around yappin’ about someone else’s business.”

“Happy to have your understanding.” Marco says quietly.

Having finished with Usopp, you came over to the other three, looking a little tentative until Kid waved you over directly.

“We all good?” You prompt, looking from one set of eyes to the next.

Marco smiles. “Exceptionally.”

You narrow your eyes a little and Marco looks taken aback for a second before you turn on Kid. “You didn’t go and do that whole big brother routine, did you?”

Kid rolls his eyes. “The hells would I go and do that? Yer doc’s alright.” He grumbles. “Let’s look under this car before Usopp paint’s the whole damn shop teal an’ gold.”

He pauses for a second, and turns and looks at you. “What made you pick those colors anyway?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking back over your shoulder at your car. “Just seemed right.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 15: Dinner

“The tea good?” You question, finishing up your prep as you work to make dinner for you and Marco.

The drive into work had gone smoothly. Marco had arrived a little early, and in your nervous state you’d been ready for a good thirty minutes before he even arrived. You’d used the extra minutes to grab coffees on the way into the office, four for you, and six for him. Mondays at Phoenix Rising Animal Hospital tended to be an all hands on deck kind of day, and Marco wanted to make sure no one was left out.

The quick kiss he’d landed on your cheek had flustered you enough that even by the time you’d gotten to your cubicle Bon-chan had asked if you were running a fever. Thankfully no one else had been in by that point, so you didn’t have to deal with Buggy or Ivankov.

You’d both opted to skip meeting for lunch - your schedules weren’t aligning well, and also you needed to stop at the grocer’s before heading home. You wanted to cook dinner for Marco to show your gratitude for the rides to and from work, but to do that you’d need some actual food in your house. Ever since your car had broken down you’d been mostly ordering in.

“It is,” Marco answers. He’s sitting at the breakfast bar watching you cook, after making sure you’d be comfortable with him doing so. He’s still in his scrubs, but honestly he looks good whatever he wears, so you’re not complaining. “You make good coffee too.” He muses.

“The good coffee was a necessity, the good tea’s a passion.” You reply, continuing your work. “Admittedly, my cooking follows after the coffee more than the tea, so I hope it’ll be palatable. If it’s bad we can just order in.” You offer.

“What’re we having? You bought so much I wasn’t sure what was for tonight.”

“Poached white fish and dirty rice.” You reply, grinning.

“Dirty rice?”

Your grin splits into a wide smile. “I knew you were going to focus on that. Wild grain rice with finely diced vegetables. It looks dirty.” You shrug. “I’m sure it has some reasonable name, but that’s what I call it.”

“Anything planned for dessert?” He prompts. You can feel your skin warming up. It’s the way he said it, more than anything else. The effect of trying to sound nonchalant in a tone that carries a little too much weight to be truly innocuous.

You swallow, pressing your lips together and doing your best to focus on cooking. “Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to buy anything for dessert.” There’s a moment’s silence between the two of you before you reach a safe break in your cooking and turn to face him. “Besides, something like that, I think I’d rather surprise you.”

“Oh?”

Smiling you nod, walking out of the kitchen and around to his side of the breakfast bar. He turns toward you, letting you step between his legs. Large warm hands slip around your waist, holding onto your without pulling you close just yet.

“I just think the presentation is as important as the actual dessert, and if you know beforehand it takes something away from it.” You reply, not really clarifying much of anything.

“And if I want something sweet right now, yoi?” He pulls a little, bringing you closer.

“I’m hardly made of sugar.” You muse, letting yourself be pulled in. The height of the breakfast bar stool puts him pretty level with you, just a little lower. The effect of him looking up at you with those hooded and relaxed eyes of his is making your blood rush.

How he manages to look so calm despite it all would be frustrating if it wasn’t so hot.

“You taste plenty sweet to me, pretty bird.” He assures you, hands pulling you in closer, pressing your chest against his as he nuzzles into your neck a little. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself a little, gasping as greedy lips kiss against your neck.

“Sound sweet too,” he muses, words hot against your skin.

“Please,” you gasp, fingers flexing against his shoulders as kisses track down all the spots that make you moan.

Teeth graze your earlobe, tongue against your neck briefly before he kisses your neck again. “Please what, pretty bird?”

“Haaa, I want you to stay.” You huff in frustration, turning toward him and losing all sense of your next words as his lips met yours. A firm hand lost in your hair tilts your head and you part your lips for him, letting him deepen the kiss.

“I want to stay, yoi.” He admits, gaze finding yours for a moment.

“I know.” You lean forward, closing the small distance between you both and letting your kisses drift away from his lips and down the line of his jaw. You could hear and feel the heavy breaths escaping him as you kissed and nipped against his neck.

“I wanna mark you.” You whisper, staying by his neck. You can feel him tense a little.

“Sure.” He says softly. “As you wish, pretty bird.”

The desire overtakes any sense to ask if he’s sure, and you lean in, licking and kissing his neck until you feel him relax a little. Sucking on the tender skin harshly you feel his hands tense against you as hissed moan escapes him. After a couple seconds you let up, licking the bright red, sure to bruise, mark and leaving a few soft kisses around it.

“You… didn’t hold back.” He husks, voice heavy and face flushed.

Sorry,” you say the word, but it’s hard to actually mean it as your eyes linger, watching with a little surprised as the mark fades before your eyes. “Automatic.” You murmur, and he sighs.

“It just means you can do so to your heart’s content.” He offers in a voice that is practically begging for you to continue.

Marco nuzzles you softly, and you step back. “Let me check on dinner.” Your voice is airy, needy, you don’t want to stop, from the way his eyes follow you it’s obvious he doesn’t want to stop either.

There’s a few minutes of silence between the two of you as you work on dinner and he watches you. You pay a bit more attention to the details than you actually need to, worried that if you look back over at him you’re going to forgo any concern for dinner entirely.

“Dinner tomorrow night as well, right?” He asks after you start to plate your meals.

“Y-yeah.” You answer, wondering idly how you’re going to manage another night of this. Maybe you can get same-night delivery on a chastity belt or something.

“Will we be picking up your car before or after?”

“Neither. It might be in the garage already, honestly.” You admit. “The opener was in the car, so Kid’s plan was to just drop it off when it’s done.”

“It might be in there already?” He questions. “Do you want to go see?”

“Mm… no, I don’t think so.” You admit with a small smile. “It’s Schroedinger’s garage right now, and as long as I don’t look there is no car, and if there’s no car, then I’ll see you in the morning.”

You nod your head toward the dinning table, carrying two plates out of the kitchen as Marco gets up. There’s a pleased smile on his face at your words, and once you set the plates down he pulls one of the chairs out for you.

“Allow me.”

“Such a gentleman.” You muse. “You’re going to spoil me, getting me used to treatment like this.”

“If the world was at all fair,” he says, sliding your chair in easily. “You would’ve been spoiled long before I came along, yoi.”

You can feel your face heating up, and you clear your throat. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly mistreated… or um…” Looking down at the food you’re certain you’re lit up like a Christmas tree. “I’m beginning to think what I was doing before now wasn’t, um, dating, really. So much as, I think the kids call it, hooking up.”

“The kids.” He repeats, chuckling as he sits down. “You are one of the kids.”

You stick out your tongue. “Look here, Eldest Brother of Thirty-Seven, you were probably calling people whipper snappers before you were old enough to legally drink.”

Marco laughs happily. “You’re probably not wrong, yoi.”

Your amusement fades a little. “Did you… I mean, did you get a childhood?” As soon as the question leaves your lips you put your hand up. “No, wait, that’s - that’s a little rude on my part, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s alright.” He reassures you, grabbing a bit of fish. His brow raise a little and your focus turns to your plate and you grab a quick bite, unsure if his reaction is distaste or not. Between your haste and concern you can’t really seem to actually taste it, and for a second you’re worried you messed something up while you had been flirting with him.

“That’s,” he swallows, tongue running over his lips briefly. “Really good.” He admits, taking another bite.

Relief washed over you and your brain resumed working again. It was good, probably the best the dish had turned out for you. Not that it was bad after you’d effectively mastered it, but it was just a little bit tastier this time.

Or maybe it was the company.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes.

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 1: Pity

It was the worst day of your life.

Nothing had gone right since you’d woken up, and nothing was going to go right, you were sure of it. Your timed crock pot had shorted overnight, so instead of waking up to the really fancy oats you’d gotten used to, you woke up to cold, curdled mush. The power bar was a poor substitute, and to add insult to injury your coffee filter tore a little, and there were grounds in your brew.

Crunchy coffee wasn’t high on your list of caffeine options, but you didn’t have time enough to brew a second pot. Gulping down what you could stomach, being un-caffeinated wasn’t an option since you hadn’t slept much at all the night before. You chased it with some tap water to clear the grounds from your mouth and grabbed your coat before heading out.

It took three tries to get your car going, and that should’ve been warning enough for you to just call a taxi or order up a Bubble Ride™, but you didn’t. Two miles from work you’re stuck at the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck and just bouncing your head off the top of the steering wheel in a vain attempt to brain yourself into unconsciousness.

If you had the time off to spare, you’d just call off and call the day a wash. Ivankov was a reasonable boss, and honestly you could probably just tell him everything that had happened, and he’d give you the day off. At this point, however, you were closer to work than home. Getting the car towed to Kid’s shop was going to be expensive enough without buying a ride back home.

You’d ask to ride with the tow driver, but not all of them were okay with that, and you weren’t having the kind of day that had you wanting to see Kid’s face in the first place. If he didn’t give you hell for holding onto your old car, he’d probably try to get you to go out with him again.

For an ex-boyfriend, he was still a good guy. You made decent enough friends, but the attraction was still there from time to time and it was in your best interest to ignore it. You were almost tempted to try and date his best friend, but Killer was pretty loyal to Kid and honestly that would be awkward as hell for at least a couple years.

The only thing that went right for you, was that Heat had answered the phone when you called the shop. A mark for the win column, you supposed.

The walk to work had, admittedly, been a smart move too – but not for you.

Strange sounds had caught your attention and looking into an alleyway you saw a few kids, teenagers maybe, beating on what looked to be a dog. They were hollering and cheering one another on, and you could hear whimpers and yelps from the dog.

You didn’t even think about them turning those kicks and sticks on you as you yelled and ran into the alleyway. You were yelling swears and threats and heading toward them without stopping. You weren’t normally the most threatening thing around, but they must’ve decided an adult was too much bother and they ran off.

The dog was in a sad state, but you knew there was a vet hospital between here and work, it was only a couple blocks from your office, and a few of the people who worked there would come to the same bistros and cafés for lunch.

“It’s going to take everything I have left to haul you to that hospital.” You say softly, kneeling down and carefully, slowly reaching a hand out toward the dog. You were certain it was a pit bull of some kind. You weren’t much of a dog person, but that didn’t matter right now.

“If I pick you up, I hope you don’t bite me. I’m not like those fuckers.” You say it evenly, and the quiet growls of the dog cease. It licks its nose and seems to relax. “Well, if you do, at least I’ll be on my way to a hospital.”

You pull out your cell phone and dial 4-1-1. “Yeah, can I get connected to Phoenix Rising Animal Hospital?”

“Location?” The operator asks.

“Lvneel City, North Blue.” You answer, and after a second the line is transferred and starts ringing. “Ah! Er – I’m Chopper, you’ve reached Phoenix Rising Animal hospital, h-how can I help you?”

“Hello Chopper, my name’s (Y/N), I’ve found an injured dog that needs emergency medical attention, can I bring him into your hospital in the next few minutes?”

“EH!? I mean, yes! I’ll make sure everyone’s ready! Was the dog hit by a car?”

“No, but I don’t know how long some teenagers were beating on it.” You answer. There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line and the young man’s voice changes.

“Okay. We’ll be ready to assist you as soon as you arrive.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” You hang up the phone and tuck it away, scooting closer to the dog. “If you bite me, I might drop you, but I’ll do my best to hold on.”

There’s a little bit of growling from the dog and a little hesitation on your part, but after a few soft words and some painfully slow movements, you manage to lift the solid dog into your arms. There was a soft whine, but the wagging tail seemed like a good indicator and so you began walking.

The few people on the sidewalks gave you a wide berth, more from the dog in your arms than because of you. But you could also feel something soaking into your shirt slowly, and you realized the poor dog must have gotten cut at some point. You hold it a little tighter to your chest, it’s the only option you have for trying to apply pressure at this point.

There’s a yelp and a sudden sharp pain in your arm. You wince against the bite, but as soon as you flinch the dog lets go.

“I know, it hurt, I’m sorry.” You say it breathlessly. “Whew, you couldn’t be much more than twenty pounds, but it’s not like I can put you over my shoulder.”

Looking up you see the door to the vet office is open and a tall mink is standing outside looking around. The white polar bear is hard to miss, between his height and the rarity of minks in Lvneel. When he sees you, he turns in toward the hospital and calls out for something. By the time you reach the doors there are two guys in scrubs wheeling out a small gurney and helping you to set the dog down.

“He’s bleeding. She’s bleeding, I don’t know, I didn’t look.” You say evenly as the three of you work together. You follow them into the hospital, and the two guys hustle down a hall as the tall mink puts a hand on your shoulder.

“They’ll take care of him,” he says reassuringly, offering you a warm smile.

“I just – I just saw some teenagers kicking the dog.” You start to explain, looking down the hall the two men disappeared down, and then looking down at yourself. You’re covered in blood and dirt. “I didn’t realize he was cut. I didn’t – I don’t know, is he even gonna be okay?”

“They’re going to do everything they can, miss.” He assures you. “Calling ahead and giving us a heads up was very smart.”

“I… yeah, I… thanks.” You say looking at the mink more closely and finally clocking his name tag. “Uh, Bepo? Thanks. What happens now?”

Bepo tilts his head, and you think under any other circumstances you’d coo at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… it’s a hospital, not a charity, what’s – who – er… how’s he gonna be paid for?” You ask.

“Oh! Uh, well-.”

“We’ll see if he’s chipped.” You turn to see a man in scrubs and a white lab coat walking over to you and Bepo. He was tall, messy blonde hair topping an otherwise mostly shaved head, giving you a soft smile. “If we can reach the owners will inform them of what’s happened, and let them know they can come collect their dog, yoi.”

“And if they… if… ugh, oh no.” The scent of blood from the dog, the smell of the hospital, the stress of the morning, all of it catches up with you. You manage to put your hands over your mouth, but you can’t stop your breakfast from coming up.

The blonde man and Bepo both step back as half-digested breakfast bar, and gritty coffee, explode from behind your fingers and cover the front of you. For better or worse, you can’t smell blood or bleach anymore. Not that the tang of stomach acid is really any better, but it doesn’t make you nearly as queasy.

“Sorry.” You manage, wiping your mouth and taking the barf bag the tall blonde hands you. “I don’t… handle the smell of blood well, and it’s been… a really bad morning.”

“Are you hurt?” He asks.

“Huh?” You look up and notice him looking at your arm. “Oh… yeah. I… I realized he was bleeding, and I couldn’t put pressure on it, so I just pulled him to my chest a little tighter and I think I hurt him. He didn’t mean it though!” You add forcefully, stepping toward the tall man. “Don’t put him down for biting me, he didn’t mean to!”

“Calm down miss, we won’t put her down for that.” He assures you, putting his hands up in front of him. “Can I look at your arm, yoi?”

“Oh… yeah. Yes, please.”

“Chopper,” He says, turning toward a small reindeer-looking mink. “Go find a pair of scrubs for our client, and some clean towels and come into exam room 4.”

“Yes!” Chopper responds, changing size and shape and bounding down the hall looking more reindeer like than he had before.

“You can hold down the front, yes?” He asks, looking at a young lady sitting behind the reception desk.

“Of course, Dr. Marco.” She answers firmly. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the back bathroom.” She adds, “Just before the O.R. doors.”

“Thank you. Bepo, can you grab some spare kits and the toothbrush for me, and ask anyone not assisting Law with the Pittie to come out and clean this up?”

Bepo straightens, “Yessir.” He says before walking away.

Marco grabs a sign from behind the desk and sets it near your disaster before extending a hand. “This way, miss, uh?”

“(Y/N).” You answer, looking at your blood and vomit covered hands and putting them at your sides. “Please, uh, lead the way.”

“Maybe a quick stop at the bathroom first, so you can clean up a little, yoi.” He offers and you nod, following behind him as he escorts you.

You shed your coat into a plastic bag provided by the vet, wash your hands and arms, and use some paper towels to soak up the worst of the mess that was down the front of your clothes. The smell was awful, but you were getting used to it enough you didn’t feel queasy anymore.

At this point you could probably face God, with no fucks left to give for the day, and come out on top. After all, on top of everything else, you managed to nearly vomit on a really hot veterinarian. It was most certainly the absolute best first impression you could’ve possibly made with anyone.

“Alright, I’m as clean as I think I can get.” You admit, coming out of the bathroom and tying the bag with your coat in it.

Marco tilts his head. “Wash your arm without looking?”

You make a face, but sigh. “Yeah, I have a hard time with blood, and I didn’t want to hurl again.”

“That’s alright, I can work with that.” He says with a smile and leads you down the hall a little further before stepping into exam room 4. You sit down when he nods to one of the chairs, and he brings a stool over, sitting nearby and looking at your arm.

“It doesn’t look like it’ll need stitching. I’m just going to clean it up and get it dressed properly.”

“Uh, sure. Thank you.”

“Certainly.” He grabs a small kit and begins to clean up your arm carefully. “Only broke the skin in two places. The dog will be observed for rabies as a matter of course, but I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’ll get you prescribed some antibiotics to reduce the risk of infection, if you want?”

“Oh, nah. Thank you, but I’ll just, uh…” You sigh and wave your free hand around a little. “Go to the hospital or something if it gets infected.”

“Mm. Want to talk about it?” He prompts and when you look over at him, he glances up. “Your bad day. It’s barely nine in the morning, yoi. It must be quite the tale.”

You snort, covering your mouth and laughing as you see him trying not to laugh. “Sorry,” you say, not really sure what the apology was for exactly, as another giggle fit takes you over and you laugh more.

“A bad day,” he muses, eyes focused on your arm. “But a good laugh, at least.”

You chuckle a little as the blood rushes to your face for a moment. Whether it’s visible or not, you can feel the rush of heat in your cheeks briefly.

“Ah, can I make a call real quick? I don’t want to be a no show for work on top of everything else.” You ask as you pull your phone out of your pocket.

“Of course, I can step out if you need me to?”

“Oh, no, this’ll answer your earlier question, so you can stay if you’re not too busy.” You answer, and he goes back to tending to your arm.

After a few rings a gruff voice answers the phone. “Thank you for calling the Emporio Imperium, this is Buggy, how can I direct your call?”

“Oh, hey Buggy, manning the phones today?” You ask with a small smile.

“Eh? (Y/N)? Where are you?”

“Ah, a hospital.” You say and hold the phone away from your ear for a second as Buggy loses his shit for a moment. “Calm down, I’m talking to you, aren’t I? I’m fine. Well, mostly fine.”

“What happened? You’re taking today off, I’ll let Ivan know.” He asserts and you see no reason to argue.

“Well, I slept for crap last night, my crockpot shorted so I had a breakfast bar for breakfast, my coffee filter tore so my coffee had grounds in it, the car barely started and then died about two miles out from the office. It’s being towed to Kid’s shop,” you explain. “But when I was walking into work-.”

“You were still going to come in after all that?” Buggy’s voice nearly cracks, and you see Marco press his lips together. He certainly heard him through the phone.

“I don’t have much time off left,” you grumble. “Look, on my way in I came across some asshole kids beating on a dog. So I brought it to the Pet Hospital by the office. I got bit – it’s not bad don’t panic – but I have blood everywhere and to top it all off I threw up.” You finish, voice flat as you look up at the ceiling.

“Even if I wanted to still come in, I would, at best, be in scrubs smelling vaguely of barf and soap.” You admit. “I’m just going to go home.”

“…Need a ride?” Buggy asks in a very small voice.

“Nah, thanks Bugs, but I’m just going to order a Bubble or walk.” You answer. “Just let the team know I’ll be out today.”

“Tomorrow too?” He prompts.

You sigh. “I’ll be in tomorrow. Stop trying to make me use my precious time off, you menace.”

“Sure, sure. If Ivan lets you.” Buggy says with a triumphant sound in his voice before he hangs up.

“That little…” You growl and put the phone back in your pocket.

“You enjoy your work, huh?” Marco asks, taping the dressing in place and rolling the stool back a little.

You offer a weak smile. “I do. I work with good people, trying to do good things, I guess.”

“You guess?”

You shrug. “I know, I just… ah, sorry.” You let out a sigh and smile a little better. “It’s been a long day, and I don’t really want to add ‘trauma dumping on the nice animal doctor’ to the list of things gone sideways today.”

There’s a knock at the door and Marco nods as the door opens. Bepo pokes his head in. “Here’s the scrubs, and a tooth brush and the paste. Oh and a spare bag.” He says, handing the items over to Marco. “The entryway is cleaned up, is there anything else?”

“No, Bepo, I think that’s all for now.” Marco answers, setting the toothbrush and paste by a small sink in the room and setting the clothing down on a nearby exam table.

“Thank you Bepo.” You say, leaning forward a little and offering a smile.

“You’re welcome, Miss (Y/N).” He says in return. “I wish we could do more.”

“This is above and beyond already, thank you.”

Marco smiles, standing up. “Don’t get caught in a loop you two.” He says. “Miss (Y/N), we’ll give you some privacy. You can change into the scrubs, and brush your teeth. I’ll give you a ride home afterward.”

“Thank you, I-. Wait, what?” You go to ask, but he’s already shoved Bepo out of the room and closed the door.

You sigh, narrowing your eyes at the closed door.

“That slick bastard.” Muttering under your breath you brush your teeth and strip off your blood and vomit-stained clothes. For everything else that happened today, at least your socks and underclothes were dry.

You grunt as you pull on the scrubs. That was your silver-lining. Despite everything else that had happened, there weren’t any big puddles in the road for someone to have soaked you while driving by.

All in all, not your best day.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 21: Tension

You woke up expecting to be tangled up in, and weighed down by Marco’s limbs, but instead you awoke to an empty bed. Groggily looking around the smell of coffee was reassuring.

You took your time, stretching muscles that were still a little sore despite Marco doing whatever he had done before. Apparently there was a limit, and some of that had to do with how little stamina you had left. Considering you practically rag-dolled on him in the shower, it was small wonder you were sore this morning.

Or afternoon maybe. The sun had been threatening to come up on the horizon by the time you two had finally stopped for the night.

It seems when supplies aren’t the limiting factor, your stamina was. It didn’t bother you, but at the same time you were a little worried as to just how much stamina he had. You might not be a professional athlete, but you were still strong enough to haul that injured dog a couple blocks without breaking a sweat.

Picking up the nearest shirt you could find, you slipped it on, and walked slowly out of your bedroom and down the hall. You could smell more than coffee in the hall, and a softly hummed song was drifting out of the kitchen.

Stopping at the end of the hallway, you leaned against the wall, watching Marco use your kitchen like he owned the place. You could smell something roasting in the oven, and the scent of either bacon or cured ham coming from the stove top. You recognized the song Marco was humming, an older rock song that was almost before your time.

You’d assert it was the humming that made you stay back to listen, but the view wasn’t bad either. Sweatpants and a white t-shirt never looked better, as far as you were concerned.

Deciding closer was better than where you were, you stepped into the area properly, letting your bare feet hit the wooden floor a little heavier than usual. You catch the slightest flinch in his movements, but he recovers very quickly.

“Good morning, pretty bird.” He hums, turning toward you as you seat yourself at the breakfast bar. “I was hoping for breakfast in bed, but this’ll work.”

“Already-ack.” Your voice comes out like gravel, and you cough a few times before trying again. “Already taking over my kitchen.” You try to say it flippantly, but you sound like a pack a day smoker. You take an offered cup of coffee and give him a smile before taking a sip. The warm liquid does feel good, but it does nothing to help your current situation.

“You stole my voice.” You grumble at him, watching his face splotch red in places as he smiles sheepishly.

“My apologies, yoi.” He says, pressing his lips together to suppress a smile. “Do you feel alright otherwise?”

You nod. “Sore, but I don’t feel sick.” If anything you feel better than you have for months. Though you’re pretty certain the extra exercise isn’t strictly to blame. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Roasted potatoes and peppers, and some bacon. I can toss a couple fried eggs in, if you want, yoi.” He says. “There’s enough time before the bacon’s done.”

You grin. “Someone wore me out last night, eggs are probably a good idea.”

Marco leans across the breakfast bar and kisses the top of your head. “As you wish, mi cielo.” You can feel the heat rush through you at his words more than the chaste kiss, and you turn your attention to your coffee as he pulls out some eggs to add to the meal.

“Technically though, I think it’s lunch.” He admits, nodding toward the clock in your kitchen. A little after noon.

“It’s eight a.m. somewhere.” You say coarsely, and pull a laugh out of him.

“I think we’ll have to take it a little easy today.” He muses, heating up a pan for the eggs.

“I want to argue,” you begin, and Marco gives you a quick sidelong glance, and you shake your head. “But if I don’t take a breather today I’ll be stuck in bed all day tomorrow.”

He clears his throat a little, red lighting his ears up before he can even start talking. “I… did pack enough to stay the whole weekend.”

“You could stay even if you hadn’t.” Your words disappear into your coffee cup, but you’re certain he heard them clearly.

There’s a few minutes of silence as he finishes up cooking, making plates for each of you. He sets one down in front of you, fingers lingering a little and causing you to look up at him. The red in his ears is radiating out to his cheeks.

“Are you suggesting I walk around in the buff?”

Your eyes shift down to his sweatpants as you bite your lower lip before looking back up at him. “Maybe.”

He sets his own plate down with an embarrassed half-chuckle, refreshing both of your coffees before coming out of the kitchen and sitting down beside you at the little breakfast bar.

“You know that’s my shirt.”

“Oops.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you’d cleared your plate in near record time. Getting up you stepped around Marco, reaching past him and snagging a slice of bacon off his plate.

“Oi!” He reached for you lazily and you stepped away easily, giving him a wink as you ate your prize.

“I thought with all those brothers, your reflexes would be better ‘an that.” You tease, putting your plate in the sink before walking back over to the breakfast bar. You opted to stay “safe” on the kitchen side of it for now. “With thirty plus brothers, meal times had to be a war zone.”

He nods, tearing his toast in half and handing you part of it. “No one’s dared steal from my plate for ten years, yoi.”

“Tryin’ ta say yer rusty?” You question, lips against the toast as you eat it while he replies.

Marco grins. “Nah, I’m just saying,” he stands up, pushing the plate aside as you finish your half of the toast. Two hands on the counter and Marco vaults over it so easily your brain barely registers that he’s in the kitchen with you now, stepping closer.

Practically looming.

You jump a little when you realize you were backing up without thinking, hips bumping into the counter behind you.

“You’re very easy to catch, pretty bird.”

“Haa-ahhh-‘m not trying to get away.” You manage, hands on his arms as he leans down and kisses you.

The heavy kiss is hot and demanding, firm hands grabbing onto you and lifting you up. He sets you on the counter, putting his hands on the edge of it before breaking the kiss and setting his head on your shoulder.

“You’re not going to break me.” You reassure him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I might just lose my voice for a day or two.” You kiss his shoulder and pat his arm, you sound awful, but you really don’t feel that bad at all.

“You’re not completely healed either.” He adds, shifting enough to kiss your shoulder in return. “You’re in my shirt.”

“I think if I take it off now that’s not going to help.” You offer and he starts to laugh.

“Probably not.” He shifts a little, letting his kisses trail up your shoulder to your neck. Moaning softly you tilt your head away to give him more access. “You’re supposed to stop me, pretty bird.”

“Don’ want to.” You mumble in response, fingers slipping up his arms as his hands are against your back.

“We should go out and do something.” He insists, teeth against your ear, breath hot and erratic against your skin. “Otherwise -.”

“We’re not out of condoms yet,” you assert, but your throat betrays you and you turn aside just in time to avoid coughing in his ear. It takes you a moment, and you just sigh and lean back as he gives you an understanding kiss on your cheek.

“Betrayed, by my own body.” You grumble, sliding off the counter as Marco walks out of the kitchen.

“You’re supposed to listen to your body, yoi.” He insists, ruffling your hair a little as you walk by. “We could go to the book store.”

“Hit up Thatch’s for dinner again?” You muse.

“Please no.” You can hear legitimate concern in his voice. “If he hears you right now I’ll never live it down.”

You chuckle a little, and consider teasing him more before opting for mercy. “Somewhere else for dinner then. A town or two over to avoid familial relations.”

Marco scoffs. “We’d have to leave the island to avoid them entirely, yoi.” He admits, following you back into your bedroom so you can both get changed. “There’s a pub that Sanji’s dad owns, we could go there.”

“The Nasugasira?”

“Yeah.”

“Zeff owns like, four or five restaurants, doesn’t he?”

Marco nods. “One in each of the seas, and then the Baratie, which travels around.”

“Well, that all sounds like a good plan.” You agree, trying to clear your throat. “I’ll, uh… get changed in the bathroom.” You add, clothes over your arm, stepping away from Marco backward. You were sure he’d let you go get changed without any fuss, but some part of you was reluctant to turn your back on him right now.

“You look, and sound, like you’re up to something, pretty bird.” He grins, stepping toward you slowly as you step backward.

“Me? No, no, not at all.” You reply a little over dramatically. “But, I mean…”

Marco hums, raising one brow curiously.

“If you like being watched, I wouldn’t mind looking.” You admit, nearly leaping out of your own skin as your heel smacks into the wall by the bathroom door.

“You’re running into a lot of things today.” He muses, stopping short of closing the distance between you both.

“It’s, um… I mean, it’s just that…” You put your clothes up to your face, effectively trying to hide in them. “You’re some kind of dangerous.”

“Only with you.” He says, stepping closer. “I’ve… never…” He presses his lips together and takes a step back. You look up and catch his brows furrowed a little before he relaxes and smiles. “Sorry, pretty bird, we should get going before the tension gets to us both.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, but even as Macro moves away you don’t move into the bathroom. “I…” He stops, turning a little toward you, and you try again. “I… have a…” You furrow your brows and press your lips together.

It’s been over ten years since you fled your home island. Over ten years since you ate the devil fruit without knowing what it was. Over ten years, and never once had you even admitted that you had a devil fruit, or what island you came from. Over ten years. Dozens of people, people who were friends, people who raised you like family. Your silence wasn’t just for your sake.

The government hadn’t used a Buster Call since Ohara, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t.

“Secrets.” You say finally. “I have… secrets.” He turns toward you completely, walking back over to you. “I want to tell you, it almost feels like a need, but-.”

“It’s alright, yoi.” He assures you, pulling you into an easy hug. “We both do.” He kisses the top of your head again. “Chin up, pretty bird. We’ll talk about them when we’re ready.”

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a weak smile before disappearing into the bathroom to change.

It wasn’t the secrets themselves that weighed on you - what his were or yours for that matter - it was a strange urge that compelled you to want to talk about them that was heavy on your mind. Ten years, twenty almost, and you never once felt compelled to say anything to anyone. Not even Kid, and you’d both confessed to being in love at one point in your relationship.

Not even to Ivan either, and she was the closest thing you had to a parent.

At least one that wasn’t part of your secrets.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 19: Amusement

The rest of the ferris wheel ride was had in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable silence, the two of you leaned against one another and enjoyed the view, and when the view became the interior of the ferris wheel itself you nuzzled your face into his arm, remembering a moment too late that you had put on a bit of makeup that morning.

Fortunately, if any was left to rub off on his coat, it didn’t.

Marco stepped out, offering his hand for you. You take it with a smile, inclining your head a little as the two of you move away from the crowd.

“I’m getting used to all these gentlemanly considerations of yours.” You admit, hand twined in his as you meandered about. Your eyes wander over the crowd as Marco hums appreciatively.

“Rough and tumble as growing up with so many brothers could be, in a way I think it managed to smooth us all out to some degree, yoi.” He admits. “Pops wasn’t shy with his feelings on the matter either.”

“I bet.” You mutter a little, distracted by something that’s caught your attention.

“What’s got your attention?”

You squint a little and then look up at Marco. “Stay here for me, I’ll be right back.”

His brows furrow slightly in confusion for a moment, but he lets your hand slip out from his and gives you a small smile. “Sure thing, I’ll be right here, pretty bird.”

Turning on your heel you disappear into the crowd so quick that Marco’s eyes go wide for a second. It wasn’t that you were particularly skilled at skulking through crowds, but you were quiet, and a little below the average height for the island. The moment you crouched, just a little, it was enough to put you below where most people would look at eye level.

Some of it was a bit of skill. You fled your home island when you were younger. Right around the time you’d accidentally eaten the devil fruit that resided within your bones. Other things that helped were the passive effects of the devil fruit itself.

You honed in on the voice you recognized as you wove through the crowd and popped up right in front of Thatch. Who was standing with a young, freckle-faced boy with messy black hair.

“Thatch.” You state dryly, and the older man nearly screeches when he sees you before looking around nervously. “What are you doing here?” You nearly hiss the question.

He finishes looking around before looking back, and down, at you. Reaching out silently he grabs the young man with him and pulls him closer.

“Enjoying the carnival with my little brother.” He says in a tone that clearly implies otherwise.

The younger man waves a little awkwardly. “Hi.”

It takes a second and your face lights up. “Oh, by the seas, you’re stalking your brother on his date.” You put your hand over your face for a moment.

“I… well, I mean… not… exactly.” Thatch stammers.

“No one knew where he was going to go,” the younger man starts explaining. “So, uh…” He stops, and looks away. “We split up.”

“You… split up?” You question and watch in real time as both men get more uncomfortable. “Wait, all of you? All thirty-seven of you?”

“Thirty- what, no, like… ten… of us.” Thatch starts, and then stops. “Look, it sounded like a better idea when Ace and Sabo were laying it out the other day.”

“Ace,” the freckled young man says, holding out a hand. You shake it, still looking a bit dumbfounded between the two of them. You give Ace your name as you release the handshake.

“Yoooooou two should probably leave.” You say after a second. “Trying to… I don’t even know what, but that stuff only works in movies.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not wrong, we thought we saw him at one point, but we lost him so fast.” Ace admits sheepishly. “It’s just that he’s always so calm and collected all the time.” He asserts. “I’ve never seen him like, ruffle, in the last decade.” The storm grey eyes look to you with an intensity you hadn’t expected.

“Until Sunday.” Ace explains. “He blushed! He smiled! Like, no, wait, I’ve seen him smile, I’ve never seen him like that.”

You can feel your face heating up. “Stop talking.” You say, looking away. “Look, go home before your brother murders you both, and I’ll, uh, come visit or something. Soon-ish. Soon-ly. Just, it was nice meeting you.”

You say quickly and disappear back into the crowd. You already left Marco alone for longer than you meant to, but now you had a new problem to consider. You didn’t want to do anything to end the date early, but you also didn’t want to keep anymore secrets than you already were.

After a moment, you found Marco, right where you left him, looking up at the sky. You didn’t quite reach him before he looked down at caught you with his gaze. You smiled, taking his hand before the two of you started to meander again.

“Can I ask what it was?” He says after a moment.

You laugh a little. “You can, I’m still trying to sort out how to say it.”

“Is it… bad?” His voice is a little more nervous than you’d expected.

“No, I don’t think so. It’s endearing, but maybe a little aggravating.” You offer, squeezing his hand and looking up at him, pausing your meandering walk again. “I saw Thatch.”

The confusion on his face is nearly adorable, before he rolls his eyes and sighs. “And?”

“And a young man named Ace.” You say, a cheerful tone in your voice. Marco pinches the bridge of his nose. “They hadn’t found their quarry, but, I did send them home.”

“I didn’t tell anyone where we were going.” Marco starts, and you pat his arm.

“I know, apparently they broke off into groups and cast a net over the city.” You explain and watch him nearly pale. He mutters something in a language you don’t know well, but you know muttering swearing when you hear it, no matter the language.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and seemingly true to an earlier statement, you see him relax. He brings your hand up to his lips and gives your fingers a warm kiss.

“I’m glad to hear you have a sense of humor about this, yoi.” He muses, leaning down and kissing your forehead before straightening back up. “My apologies for my brothers.”

“Not at all.” You assure him. “I’m looking forward to meeting more of them. If, uh, you’re comfortable with that.”

“You want to?” There’s an easy tone in his voice, but you can feel his fingers flex.

“Yeah.” You admit, clearing your throat a little. “Thatch is nice, and Ace seems like quite the enamored younger brother. It seems like you have an interesting family, and you haven’t said anything bad about them, so… yeah.” 

“Alright.” He says simply as the two of you continue walking.

“Oh, and I did say I would petition for you to not murder your brothers.” You say after a moment, and Marco laughs.

“Well, if it’s you asking, I suppose I can forgive them, yoi.”

“So what next?” You question. “It’s cold, but I feel like I could go for ice cream.”

“I need to try and win you a cheap carnival prize too before we leave.”

“Ah, but what if I win you a cheap carnival prize instead?” You prompt, giving him a cheeky grin.

“A competition?”

“Whoever wins a big stuffed animal first wins?”

“Sure.”

“Ah, but what do they win?”

Marco leans down, speaking quietly into your ear. His breath is hot, but it’s the words that warm you more than his proximity.

“Control, once we get back to your place tonight.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 10: Teenagers in Love

You leaned back against him in the dark hall, his hands slowly unzipping your hoodie as you stood in the entrance hall. There was little left to be said, and there was just enough light that you could see the outline of his fingers against your dark clothes. But even if you couldn’t see him, you were aware of him.

Breath hot against your ear, strong hands pulling your hoodie back and down your arms slowly. He was taking his time, and wouldn’t be rushed.

Not that you wanted to rush him.

Dinner at Thatch’s restaurant had been nearly perfect. Marco’s brother was as comfortable to talk to as Marco was, and by the end of the meal you were bantering playfully with both of them. A single drink, delicious as it had been, wasn’t enough to dull your senses, but it was enough to take the edge off of your concerns.

Marco’s fingers undo your belt, the soft click of thin metal is the only sound you can hear over your rising heartbeat. Your hands are on his arms, not because you need to keep yourself steady, but because you want to touch him, and you both have too much on still.

He undoes the top button of your jeans and you slip out of your shoes, taking a step away and looking at him over your shoulder. He takes his own shoes off, quicker than you think he should be able to, but you’re too focused on other things to care. Pulling your shoulder purse off you set it on the counter and turn to face him.

 There’s a light in his eyes, and while they’re still hooded, there’s no denying the fire burning in them.

“I’d… like for you to come inside, when we get to my place.” You say it softly, squeezing his fingers. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look over at him, the fear of rejection making it hard to muster up your earlier confidence.

“Am I being a gentleman?”

“… I’m not going to confine you to my living room.”

“Allow me,” he says, a voice heavy and almost demanding, as he reaches for your belt and tugs it free of your jeans while you start to pull his belt loose.

You step back as he steps toward you, letting him close the gap enough to almost meet your lips before you shift with a smile. He drops your belt on the floor while you pull his free, letting it fall to the floor as you take another step.

The smile on his face promises he’s enjoying the teasing display, and he pulls his t-shirt off, grabbing one end as he brings it down behind your back. He uses his shirt to pull you to him as he steps forward, keeping you from taking another step back.

You gasp a little, suddenly pressed up against him. He tosses the shirt aside, hands on your body before you even realize you’re free and holds you in place as he leans down and kisses you. The heavy kiss makes you moan, your fingers holding onto his arms as your soft gasp of pleasure is enough for his tongue to push into your mouth.

Marco’s hand cradles your head, and he nearly lifts you up as he takes a couple more steps toward the hall leading down to your room. You can’t help the surprise squeak he devours, with how easily he lifts you, your toes just barely leaving the floor before you’re set back down.

“I can be a gentleman in any room of your house, yoi.” He says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do you want to be a gentleman?” You prompt, looking down at your hands.

“What I want isn’t important just yet.”

“… Do you want to sleep with me?” You question after a moment, turning toward him.

You have one hand on Marco’s shirt as you take a step back, looking over your shoulder just enough to make sure you’re headed down the hall and not into a wall. Your other hand is holding your pants up, which desperately needed the belt to stay in place.

“Do you really want to keep those?” He questions, taking another step toward you as you grin and step back.

“At least until you lose that other shirt.”

He smiles, starting to pull the shirt up. The hallway is darker than the living room, but as you step further into it, the dim light of the living room rims his body. The soft glow follows along muscles you were pretty sure you knew where there, but seeing them shift and ripple as he tosses the shirt aside was something else.

Your eyes shift from the edges of his body to the center of it and you let go of your pants as you see a large, and completely unexpected, tattoo on his chest. You get tangled in your pants and start to fall backward, but before you’ve even registered the sensation of falling, Marco’s grabbed you. One hand on your arm, the other around your waist.

“Careful, yoi.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, eyes shifting from his smile to his chest. He rights you, as you step out from your pants entirely, heart thundering in your chest. Your hand reaches for the door handle to your room, eyes locked onto those bright blue ones as you push the lever down and open the door. Stepping backward into the room you hook a finger through the belt loop of his pants, pulling him forward.

Marco’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Yes.” He answers.

“Then I want you to come in and show me what you want.” You admit, as he pulls into your driveway.

Marco puts the car in park, turning off the engine. “And if I don’t want to be a gentleman?”

You grin as he turns toward you. “Even a brute stops when someone says a safe word.”

Marco steps toward you as you tug on his pants, scooping you up and nearly putting you over his shoulder. A surprised noise escapes you before you begin to laugh as his fingers tickle down the backs of your legs.

You don’t have a chance to beg him to stop before he shifts and lets you drop a bit onto your bed, bouncing slightly against the mattress. His arms are under your legs and he pushes you further onto the bed when you bounce. You’re still giggling from the earlier tickling and surprised with how well he’s effectively man handling you, but you realize he’s pretty practiced at moving someone around like this.

“What’s the safe word, pretty bird?” He prompts, setting his knee on the mattress between your legs.

You open your legs, making enough room for his other knee. “Red.”

“Mmm.” He hums, leaning over you, eyes holding your gaze as he leans down enough to kiss you.

You let your fingers wander over his skin as you hum into the kiss, turning your head as needed when he shifts his weight. One arm sinks into the bed as his opposite leg shifts, pulling your legs open a little wider.

He breaks the kiss as the thumb of his free hand traces down the middle of your chest, and down your stomach. His eyes are on you, soft smile on his face as your hands are on his shoulders, your body already squirming with need before his fingers slip under the band of your panties.

He moves his fingers back and forth a little, teasing you without going any further down.

“If you t-tease me, I’ll pin you down and ride you my d-damn self.” You say, trying to assert yourself despite the soft gasps escaping you.

“Say my name, yoi.”

You feel a shiver rattle in your chest. “Haa, w-why?”

“I like the way it sounds.” He leans down, letting his fingers move just a little closer to your throbbing clit, and whispers in your ear. “I want to compare it to all the other sounds you’re going to make for me tonight.”

You can’t remember the last time you whimpered, but you do as he leans back a little, and cover your face with your hands. You hear a pleased chuckle come from him and you will your hands away from your face, holding onto him again. Try as you might, you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes right now.

“M-Marco…” You manage quietly.

“Once more,” he says, and you feel him and the air around him tense. The shift is enough to pull your gaze back toward his, and the sharp look in his eyes makes your heart thump.

“Marc-aahhhh-mmngh!” You gasp, clutching onto his arms as his hands shifts and his finger hits your clit. The sudden, almost rough sensation makes your back arch a little, but even with your squirming his finger doesn’t lose its place.

“M-Marco!” You gasp his name, body squirming more as he relentlessly teases your clit. That sharp gaze is still on you, softened by the satisfied smile that was accompanying it. Usually someone’s finger would slip away when you squirmed and you’d get a second’s reprieve before things continued, but he wasn’t giving you that mercy and you were coming undone fast.

“I’m gonna, haaaa-shit! I’m going to cum!” The flat of his palm laid against the lower part of your stomach, holding you in place a little as your legs twitched and kicked, his finger staying right where he wanted it.

“Don’t fight it.” He says evenly, leaning down closer and pushing your legs wider with his to subdue your trembling body a little as he continued to tease you.

“I, haaa, could-couldn’t if I wah-wanted to!” You cry out. The building pleasure is so fast it’s a little overwhelming, but you want to know how it’s going to feel. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“I won’t.” He promises, kissing your forehead before returning to watching your face.

“Haaaa-fuckin’ ha-ells, I’m going to-!” Your voice is a shivering, breathy mess, and Marco’s gaze doesn’t look nearly so sharp in your hazy vision. “Going to kuh!” The word breaks in your throat as your entire body tenses for a second.

You suck in a breath after your muscles relax a little, the pleasure of the orgasm still flooding your body and Marco follows the breath, kissing you deeply. Your cries of pleasure are muffled by his lips and shifted around by his tongue as though he’s savoring the flavor of them.

He leans back, giving you one more soft kiss before sitting back on his heels and removing his hand from between your thighs. A few small shivers twitch through your limbs as he smiles down at you, lifting your legs up and bringing them together.

“You… you’re not done, I’m not-.”

“I’m not done.” He assures you, chuckling a little as he tugs your panties up and off your legs. “I thought I had it in me to be patient no matter what.” He muses, bringing your legs back down on either side of his thighs. “That I could savor every moment, and not be rushed like some horny teenager.”

He pulls his pants and boxers down enough to free his already stiff cock, stroking it lazily. He reaches behind himself, pulling his wallet free and holding it toward you. You don’t seem to notice it at first and he chuckles.

“Pretty bird.” He hums, pulling your gaze back up to his. “Help me out a little.”

“Ah, sure, sure.” You nod, reaching past the wallet and wrapping your hands around his hard shaft. He sucks in a breath, bucking his hips a little as he moves his hand out of your way.

“Th-that works.” He agrees shakily, and you can hear small grunts as he tries to focus on getting a condom out of his wallet.

You bite your lower lip, running your fingers and palms against his stiff flesh. He seems to be caught between trying to hurry to get the condom on and not wanting to stop you. Clasping your hands together, twining your fingers, you stroke him with your palms, running your thumbs against the underside of his dick and rubbing slow circles as you move to the tip.

“Sssshit,” he puts the edge of the condom wrapper between his teeth, grabbing your hands in his and pulling them away before he traps both your hands in one of his. Using his one free hand he rips the package open, letting out a slow breath.

“You asked for help.” You tease, fingers flexing inside his grip.

“Lesson learned, yoi.” He retorts, a smile on his face as he releases your hands to get the condom on faster. Before you can get your greedy fingers wrapped around him again, he has it against your soaked folds, stroking against you slowly as he catches your hands in his again.

Marco pins your wrists to the bed, attacking your neck and shoulders with kisses. You gasp, laugh and moan as he works, the sudden actions catching you off guard in a good way. You rock your hips, grinding back against him and getting rewarded with a hot gasp of air against your skin.

“Marco,” you murmur and feel his body tense.

You can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses up your neck and nips your ear a little. “As you wish, pretty bird.” He nearly purrs the words before he shifts his hips.

The tip of his cock pushes against your clit a little before it shifts down, slipping between your labia and pushing slowly into you. You’re wet from your earlier orgasm, and you certainly hadn’t cooled down in the short time since. Your fingers flex in his grip, and you gasp a little, your legs opening wider as your toes flex.

“Haa, haa, m-more,” you breathe as he kisses you. The soft fluttering kisses give you enough space to say something if you need to as he works in deeper, stretching you slowly despite his earlier spoken impatience.

“I – hnngh – won’t, won’t break. Marco you can go f-faster.” You grin as he looks into your eyes. “Stop being such a gentleman, doc.”

He makes a face, before leaning down and capturing your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You manage to mumble his name a little before he pushes the rest of the way into you. You moan into the kiss, your body twisting in pleasure as you were held under him.

“Shit,” Marco swears so softly you almost don’t hear it.

You can’t help yourself as silent giggles make your body shake. Marco looks at you, a mix of inquisitiveness and amusement on his face. You bite your lower lip and shake your head.

“N-Nothing, it’s nothing.” You managed to say, trying not to laugh.

Marco rolls his hips causing you to gasp. “Mmhm. What has you so amused, hm?”

You shake your head harder. “It’s mean,” you admit, moving your hips and urging him to move. “I can’t say it.”

“Hm… I wonder how many times I can deny you another orgasm before you’ll tell me, yoi.” He muses, pulling back slowly and pushing back in just as slowly. Letting go of your wrists he reaches behind you and undoes your bra before pulling it off and away.

“You wouldn’t.” You look at him and the smirk on his face and feel the blood rush through you. “… you would. Seriously though, it’s mean!”

“I forgive you.” He prompts with a cheeky grin, keeping his slow pace.

“… if you came too soon like some teenager I’d promise not to tell Thatch.” You grumble looking away as you feel the heat rise to your face.

There was a flicker of light, or so you thought, but whatever it was, it was gone too fast. Your searching eyes found Marco’s and for a split second his eyes were wide enough that you could see the entire circle of his bright blue irises in the dark. Like the flicker of light, the sight was gone almost as fast as you noticed it and you didn’t get time to dwell on it.

Marco pinned your wrists over your head, hooking one of your legs with his free arm as his hips started to thrust into your needy pussy faster. Bent over you like he was, the angle and position left his lower abs to grind against your clit every time he filled you up.

Even with him saying he wasn’t going to be a gentleman, somehow you had expected your first night with the laid back vet to be soft and slow, and maybe even more awkward. But you couldn’t wiggle away from the pleasure he was pushing into you, you couldn’t even hope to wrest control at this point.

“M-Marco, I-I-I said it was m-mean, I’m-!” He slows a little leaning down and kissing you, tongue in your mouth like it belongs in there more than your own. It’s not anger that’s driving him, you know what that feels like, Kid was good at all the shapes anger could take.

This was something else.

Passionate. Insistent. Determined.

Prideful.

You relax and let him dominate you. You’d always resisted. You weren’t the little mouse scurrying about in the world, you were powerful. You were the Great Keeper – strong, and beautiful, and full of pride. Marco wasn’t the only one with a secret devil fruit beating in his soul, but whatever his was, you deferred to it.

And you did so in a way you had never done before.

“Please,” you murmur as he leans back from kissing you. Your brain is fuzzy, your body’s warm, and you just want to sink into him. “Please Marco… more. T-take more, please.”

There’s a rush of flames, blue and gold, and enchantingly beautiful, that flare in the air just as he shifts, covering your eyes with his hand. His voice slips into your ear, heavy and needy and demanding.

“As you wish, (Y/N).”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 13: Drop-Off

After getting a good look under Marco’s car, Kid brought it back down and installed the hydraulic arm so no one would need to hold the hood up anymore. You and Marco left Usopp to his work. With the custom paint job, plus the clear coat, it would be another couple days before the car was entirely ready for you.

“It would be my pleasure,” Marco started, as you were nearly back to your house. “To drive you to and from work for the next couple of days, pretty bird.”

“Mm, I suppose it would be nice to not have to think about how I was going to get to and from work.” You admit with a smile. “I would like to pay you back at least a little.”

Marco glances over at you with an easy smile. “And how do you mean to do that?”

“I’m certainly not as skilled as Thatch or Sanji, but I’m pretty sure I can still cook a decent dinner or two.” You offer. “Unless your evenings are already spoken for.”

“Short of an emergency at the hospital,” he begins, reaching out and slipping his hand over yours. “I am available as much as you can put up with me.”

You feel the blood rush through you as you try to play it off. “Are all the men in your family this terribly smooth? Or are you simply well-practiced, Dr. Newgate?”

You see his ears go pink even as he smiles. “Neither, pretty bird.” He glances over at you and then looks away, almost shyly. “It’s just natural with you.”

You pull your hand away, both of them going over your face. “That’s just not fair.” You grumble from behind your hands.

“Allow me to capitalize on being terribly unfair, to ask if you’d like to go on another date.” He prompts, turning into your driveway and putting the car in park before he turns toward you. “Friday night?”

You peek out from behind your fingers. “Monday and Tuesday dinners at my place don’t count as dates?”

He smiles. “They do, but I was thinking more about the next place I’d like to go. I had fun yesterday, and, well, today too, yoi. I’m usually just back and forth between home and work, and I’d just really like to have fun again next weekend.”

“Friday… and Saturday?” You question and his smile widens.

“Should I put together a proper over-night bag this time?” He questions.

You laugh a little, a mix of nerves and need, and nod. “If you are so inclined, doctor.” You answer teasingly. “What did you have in mind for Friday?”

“The south harbor has a carnival, it’s only got a couple weeks left. It’ll be a little chilly, but it’s been a while since I wasted money on rigged games for cheap stuffed animals.” He offers, giving you a meaningful look.

“Trying to impress someone?” You retort.

He laughs softly. “I don’t know about impress, yoi. But if failing spectacularly at shoddy games entertains you enough that I get to hear your laugh again, I’ll gladly pay the price.” He admits, undoing his seatbelt and sliding over to your side of the car seat.

“That’s - that’s not f-fair.” You stammer, caught between being flustered by his words and the rush of tension in the air as he closes the distance between the two of you.

“It’s all fair until you tell me to stop,” he replies, leaning in enough nuzzle his cheek against yours, kissing the side of your face softly.

“I might actually be out of my league.” You admit nervously, turning your head enough to brush your lips against his.

There’s a warm rush of air between you both as you each sigh at the light touch. You smile, it’s nice to know you’re not the only one so easily effected. Marco moves in, taking advantage of the moment to kiss you. His hand on the back of the car seat shifts, his fingers disappearing into your hair. His other hand is warm against your thigh.

A firm squeeze of your thigh causes a soft gasp from you, and that’s enough for him to deepen the kiss. Your hands are against his chest, but you’re not pushing him away, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He leans back a little, breaking the kiss, and you tighten your grip on his shirt and pull him back. The words on his lips die in a soft, surprised, muffled grunt, but he recovers quickly.

You don’t control the second kiss for long, but the low hum in his chest leaves you feeling that you’re maybe not entirely out of your league. When he leans back again, he kisses you softly a couple times before leaning back enough to look into your eyes.

“You’re making it hard to go home, yoi.”

“It’s barely after lunch.” You point out, looking toward your house before looking back at him.

“I need to make sure my brothers haven’t burned our house down.” He replies. “If I go in there now, I might not make it to work on time.”

Still holding onto his shirt you lean forward and put your head on his chest. “Responsibility, responsibility, I have never wanted to be irresponsible quite so strongly before.” You grumble, shaking him a little.

“Aye.” He agrees, his eyes shifting over your body for a second before he looks back up at you. “Speaking of, what time do you need to be at the office tomorrow?”

“I don’t have too much of a set schedule.” You admit, letting go of his shirt and smoothing it out idly as you continue. “I’m usually in around seven or so, especially if I know I’ll be there late, but any time between six and ten is fine. Whatever works for you and your schedule.”

“I can work with that.” He says, leaning back a little, but not shifting too far away. “I’ll text when I’m on my way?”

You nod. “That works.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you both look around the car before looking back at one another.

“It’s really hard to leave.” You admit, causing him to chuckle.

“It’s… really hard to let you.” He agrees. “I’ll do my best to have more time available this coming weekend. I probably won’t… probably shouldn’t, spend the night Monday or Tuesday, but I’ll accept the meals, if you’re okay with that.”

Smiling, you nod. “Yeah, yeah, I uh… I think I can manage.” You admit, putting your hand on the door handle. It takes you a moment to actually engage the handle to open the door, and the sound and feel of the mechanism almost seems dreary in its own way.

Sighing lightly, you open the car door, lean back toward Marco, and kiss him a little roughly before stepping out of the car. As best as you possibly could, you managed to catch him off-guard and are rewarded by his half-frozen form looking up at you.

“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, doc.” You grin.

Marco chuckles. “Indeed, pretty bird, indeed. Rest well, yoi.”

“You too, when you get to it… and, thank you. I had a great time.” You say with a smile before you close the car door.

Marco leans over the steering wheel, arms folded along the top of it, giving you a smile and a wave when you look over your shoulder at him before going into your house. Stepping into your house and closing the door behind you, you hear him pull out of the driveway.

Leaning against the door and sighing, you realize you have most of the day ahead of you, and nothing you particularly cared to do. Well, you think with no small amount of aggravation, there was at least someone you wanted to do, but that wasn’t going to happen today.

But, you’d get to see him tomorrow, and ideas began to come to mind, so you let yourself be distracted, as you started to do what you needed to for the next day. Moping about around the house wouldn’t be the best way to let the day resolve anyway.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 25: Family

Marco returned after a series of apologetic texts explaining that his brothers weren’t letting him leave until he answered some of their questions. Once he walked in the door he set a suitcase and backpack down, took off his shoes and scooped you up into his arms, hugging you close and breathing deep before saying anything.

“Welcome home,” you say quietly, giving him a few soft kisses before he finally set you back down.

“Home, eh?”

“For the foreseeable.” You grin. “You want some tea? From your texts it sounded like your brothers were interrogating you.”

“Tea sounds wonderful, yoi.” He admits, walking into the kitchen with you, and sitting on the breakfast bar. “Ace was the worst of the lot, and he was feeding the others.” He grins and sighs. “I had to promise to visit at least one Saturday a month just to reach my closet.”

“Well, you have your promise for October in the bag.” You point out with a smile. “Since that’s when the party is.”

“I am expecting to hear ‘that doesn’t count’, from someone.” He admits with a grin.

You hand him a cup of tea, stepping back and leaning against the counter top, taking a sip of your own cup. “Any other concessions?”

“They haven’t even met you yet, and I’ve been requested not to horde you all to myself.” He says with a grunt. “I pointed out that you had a say in that, that they couldn’t control, yoi. But also,” he begins taking another sip. “I warned that if they crashed too many dates you might get your fill of them.”

You laugh. “Well, that’s one way to solve that concern.”

“Have you alked to Ivan yet?” He questions, looking over at you before taking another sip.

You shake your head. “I’m going to Monday. Figure I can just let all three of them know at once and then use my work commitments to cut the whole thing short.” You explain with a smile. “I mean, no one’s going to say anything bad, they know better.”

“I feel like ‘willful child’ was something used to describe you.” Marco muses, affection in his voice.

You grin, setting down your cup of tea. “Repeatedly, I’m sure.” You lift yourself up onto the counter to sit and let out a heavy breath. “Less so, before I ran away.”

You pause for a moment, looking around the room before looking back at Marco. “I don’t know the name of the island I was born on, but I know it’s in the New World somewhere. My family were… broken. They were broken. Three brothers, a sister, my mom and dad, all just empty shells going through the motions of living.”

You press your lips together and put your face in your hands for a second, pulling your feet up onto the counter, practically hiding behind your knees.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Marco says softly, staying where he is.

“No, I do. I do,” you admit putting your hands down and doing your best to look at him. “Because it would be cruel to feel this way, and to be this close, and then not say anything." Sorrow, deep and powerful crosses your face, despite your efforts in trying to maintain some level of neutrality.

You knew how the world felt about-

“- My family were nobles.” You say flatly. “Disgraced nobles, as far as the story goes, living in squalor after being removed from the lists.” You look away a little, eyes unfocused on anything in the here and now. “But that life was all I knew. I was born after their fall. I knew nothing else but that house, and it was a little larger than this place. It was hardly squalor, hardly poverty. It was comfortable. Dry and warm when it was cold outside and dry and cool when it was hot outside.

“We had to make our own meals, and clean our own things, but even removed from the lists, there were concessions provided to us. There was a certain image and importance to maintain, as though disgraced nobles were still worthy of more than common folk.”

Licking your lips a little, a bitter sweet smile slips along your features. Your shoulders droop and you sigh. “I was, for a time, happy. Even surrounded in the misery of a family who did little more than lament all they had lost, I wanted for nothing. I ate, cleaned, and played outside. No one paid much mind to me, within the house or without. I had a couple friends in a neighboring town, people who didn’t know who I was, unlike the townsfolk near our home.”

“What worked in my favor was that I didn’t have any of the recessive traits most of the nobles on the island had.” You sigh, quiet for a long moment. Marco didn’t move, even to drink any of his tea, and sat silently until you were ready to continue. “Which eventually did not work in my favor.”

“Lets go sit on the couch.” Marco prompts, getting up from his spot and walking over to you with his arms open. “If you were worried about your lineage scaring me off, yoi, it won’t.”

After a few hitched breaths, you wipe your eyes, scattering the errant tears, before reaching out toward him in return. He lifts you up easily, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around his waist. There is comfort in the embrace, and the position, and it’s nice to just lean into him for a moment as he makes his way to the living room.

“Am I setting you down, or just sitting down?”

“Just sitting, please.” You reply quietly, moving your legs so you could comfortably lean against him while he sat back on the couch.

“You’re… really okay with it?” You question, voice still quiet. You know how the world views nobles. You know how nobles treat and view the world.

You wouldn’t be able to blame anyone for seeing you differently.

“I’ve seen who you are with my own eyes.” He assures you, holding you tight, nuzzling against the side of your face gently. “Blood’s never mattered to me.”

“… They were going to marry me back in.” You admit after a moment. Keeping your head on his shoulder you just sit there for a little longer. “Someone… someone thought I’d make good, healthy, heirs.”

Your fingers tighten, bunching up the fabric of his shirt. Even now the whole situation still turned your stomach.

“They sent a gift. Something considered priceless. I didn’t even know the concept of devil fruits before then.” The words become easier and easier to say, and so you just let them come out. “I didn’t want anything to do with it. I was barely old enough to understand it all. To understand that they were basically selling me to get their names returned to the lists.

“I ran off. I ran off a dozen times, dragged back each time, but I didn’t stop trying, and they could only do so much. Shackles are for commoners. You can’t beat a bride to be and risk injuries before the wedding. Can’t break my legs, you need me to walk, and so I ran.”

Marco’s arms seem to engulf you, as though he’s trying to consume the pain that comes from your words, or shield you from the anger bubbling up in him. You aren’t sure which. Maybe both. You just know the action is comforting. Protective. Kind.

“I gave it away, the fruit, to a kid on the street, but he was smart, or scared, and wouldn’t eat it. Thought it was poisoned. So I took a bite first.”  You’re quiet for a moment, letting the memory play in your mind again after so long. “It was sweet. Rich and full of honey. I know now that devil fruits usually taste awful, but this was delicious. He loved it so much he helped me leave the island.

“He couldn’t have been eight. I was barely twelve. We never used names, swore we’d never meet again. I think we both understood on some level, how dangerous it was. I stowed away, on some ship, and ended up here.”

“… You remember anything about the ship?” He prompts.

“It was huge…” you lean back so you can look at him. “It was one of the reasons we picked it. Figured I’d have less chance being caught on a really big ship.”

“Huge doesn’t narrow things down for me.” He says with a grin.

“… Oh right! You and your family sailed.. I guess this was about twenty years ago now.” You lean back, sitting on his thighs, thinking for a few long moments, trying to make sure you remembered the details correctly. “The front was white, rounder than other ships in the front. It had so many sails too, and I think it had blue down the sides, and, I don’t know, yellow or gold trim.”

“… Did it… look like a whale at all?” He questions hesitantly, eyes focused on you. “The front part, I mean.”

You tilt your head, and smile. “Yeah it did, kind of like a white version of a big blue whale.”

Marco purses his lips and furrows his brow, blush running across his face.

You’re confused for a moment before realization dawns. “You… know the ship?”

Marco nods.

“… Do I owe Shanks an apology?”

Marco’s face flinches a little, and he shakes his head slowly.

You can feel the blood drain from your face. Not out of fear, but the dread of true understanding.

“I… owe… you, an apology.” You say slowly, and catch just the briefest nod from Marco. You look away and cover your mouth with your hand, thinking about your date at Thatch’s restaurant. “I thought that sauce tasted familiar.”

“Thatch practically started an inquisition!” Marco teases, grip tightening on you when you try to leave his lap. “We had locks on the refrigerator and pantry for five years after we got here!” He’s laughing as he pulls you against him entirely, kissing and nipping where he can. The light actions are ticklish on purpose and you can’t help your own laughter.

“I barely ate anything!” You insist, half-heartedly trying to escape. Marco grabs you suddenly, and firmly. Holding your head and body in place, eyes focused on your lips for a second as your laughter dies down.

The first kiss is soft and persistent, his body on edge as though he’s waiting to see how you’ll react. The next kiss is deeper, more insistent and needy, tongue pushing into your mouth and bringing soft moans up to your throat.

“He thought we had rats at first.” Marco says, still holding your face, not letting you back away too far.

You nod a little, eyes shifting from his reddening lips to his eyes. “I thought he spaced them out for his own foot size, and it was easy to step over them.”

“Did you trip a few on purpose?” He questions, and you nod.

“He was using such good cheese.” You admit, laughter bubbling up in you again.

Marco tries to keep a straight face and fails, the two of you falling into giggling laughter again. It takes a couple minutes to calm down and you set your head on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe it.” You murmur, fingers tangling into his.

“We left from that island, and stayed here.” Marco says. “That was the last trip we ever took.”

“Ivankov caught me.” You explain. “I thought I’d cleared the docks and was free and he picked me up like some stray cat.”

“I always wondered what secret she had.” Marco grins, changing his grip and capturing your hands behind your back, freeing up one of his. “Kept your secret all this time.”

“M-Marco,” you gasp, squirming a little as he pulls your collar aside, leaving kisses against your throat.

“Stowing away on a pirate ship is dangerous.” He says, voice low and heavy against your skin.

“You… you were Whitebeard pirates.” You state it and Marco pauses for a brief second before nipping at your ear.

“When’d you know, pretty bird?”

Your breath leaves you shakily. You aren’t worried about him hurting you, not now, maybe not even from the beginning, but the tone of his voice caresses your bones. From his tone alone you were at his mercy.

“A week, or so.” You admit. “The tattoo looked familiar, and then everything else just… added to it.”

“You weren’t scared?”

“Of you?” You can’t help the disbelief that slips into your voice.

“Most people are afraid of pirates, yoi. Even if they haven’t been pirates for years.”

“Most people think the marines actually protect them.” You retort, feeling Marco’s lips pull into a smile against your skin.

“I’m glad we never caught you.” He says quietly.

You laugh softly, sighing. “It would’ve been awkward to have been an honorary little sister or something and then end up here.”

“Little bit.” He agrees, letting go of your hands and pulling you into another kiss. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve lost either way, yoi.”

“Less bothered by the lost yesteryears, yeah?” You prompt, watching his cheeks turn red.

“Only a little.” There’s a pout in his tone, and another kiss follows it. “Gonna make up for all the lost time anyway.”

His hands tug at your shirt, and you lift your arms, letting him pull it off, breaking off the kiss for just long enough to let the article pass and get tossed aside. Leaning into the next kiss you tug at his shirt, and he leans forward, breaking the kiss and helping you pull it off.

No other conversation is had that night, nothing beyond quiet words of acquiescence and desire, peppered by the occasional sweet words of love and need. Tender kisses and desperate fingers trail over sweat speckled skin.

Pleasure is chased and caught, again and again, until limbs tremble simply from existing.

The clock chimes the name of a new day before dinner is consumed. The soft shuffle of sheets afterward, the brief moments of sleep, and the delicious scent of coffee to rally the morning.

And so began Monday.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 11: Condominimum

You groan a little. Waking up you felt warm and comfortable, but it took your brain a moment to understand why it felt like you had a weighted blanket on. You could feel the blood rushing through you for a moment as you felt Marco’s chest against your back. His arm was under your head and his other arm was against your side, hand resting on your waist.

Marco had run himself out of condoms last night, and with a little help from you had gotten things going in the bathroom for you both to clean up. You’d tossed his clothes into the wash before you both got in the tub, and you took your sweet time with everything. You didn’t want to go to bed yet, and you hadn’t been completely worn out by the time the condoms were gone.

It wasn’t to say you hadn’t been satisfied, however, but you could’ve happily gone a little longer.

“How is it I’m covered in bruises and bite marks, and you don’t even have a scratch on you?” You questioned, running your fingers over his back. “I know I wasn’t that gentle.”

“It’s… kind of automatic.” He admitted hesitantly.

“Auto- … oh, you’re, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You say reassuringly, remembering that he’d mentioned he had a devil fruit. “I was just admiring your back… side.” You hum, tilting your head a little before kissing his shoulder and hearing him chuckle.

“And it’s alright, yoi. If you’re willing to keep your eyes closed for a few minutes I can make sure you don’t wake up sore tomorrow.” He offers, looking at you pointedly from behind those half-lidded eyes.

You’d taken him up on the offer and had sat on the edge of the tub for a moment while he moved his hands over you. It felt good, almost like a massage, but it left you feeling even more tired than you had already been and he’d ended up practically bathing you. You were fairly certain that was really his end goal, the smooth bastard.

Marco asked you about the evening, your back to his chest as he took his time washing your fingers and arms. His voice hummed against your back and you’re pretty sure you nodded off a few times, nudged gently back into wakefulness when he needed to adjust you. It was times like this that you were glad you had one of those massive claw-foot tubs.

It was a treat you limited to once a month at most for yourself, but it was certainly big enough for two people. Three, if they were flexible enough.

After the bath, and a quick shower, you tossed Marco’s clothes in the dryer and made some tea. It was really hard to keep your hands to yourself when he was sitting at your kitchen table in nothing but a towel. But you didn’t have the energy to do much more than tease him, and it wouldn’t be polite to rile him back up and then fall asleep on him.

You wanted to be able to do this another night, not frustrate him so much he didn’t want to come over again.

Mostly you got him to talk about his family and his brothers. You learned more about Ace, and Izou, and Thatch. He told you stories about Ace’s brothers Luffy and Sabo and the trouble the three had gotten into when they were younger.

When the dryer was done Marco had just asked for his boxers, unless you “needed him” to wear more.

“Nah, boxers are fine.” You admit, tossing him the clean boxers and holding the dark blue t-shirt up to yourself. “Oh this is so warm, it’s tempting.” You add, giving him a pointed look.

Marco cleared his throat. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, yoi.” He starts, hand over his face. “But, please not tonight… that’s a battle of wills I don’t want to face right now.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “Another time then.” You agree, tossing the shirt back in the dryer. “We need to get to sleep so we can actually get some sleep. We hafta be up at eight at the latest, and that’s if you want toast and coffee for breakfast.”

And now, here you were.

The last thing you wanted to do was get up and get out of bed. The idea of lounging around for the entire Sunday with Marco was immensely alluring, but you had promised, and you needed to work with Usopp if you wanted to get your car back the way you wanted it.

Besides, even if you decided to just throw caution to the wind about your car’s custom paint job, you would still need to get up and go outside. You needed more condoms. A box, at minimum, you decided firmly.

Maybe two.

Something about the way Marco acted told you that he had stamina for days, and you wanted to know what it was like to get him to the end of those reserves.

But that was for another day, either way, and so with a defeated sigh you moved to get up and Marco shifted. Quickly and smoothly, his arms and legs moved carefully to cage you and pull you back. You made an undignified squeak of surprise at first, but you were laughing quickly, and he snuggled his face into the back of your head.

“Good morning,” you hum, squirming back into him a little. He grunts in response. For someone whose hands had been pretty much everywhere on you the night before, he was keeping them under control this morning.

“We need to get up.” You try to assert, but his grip on you tightens a little in response.

“Alarm hasn’t gone off yet.” He replies sleepily.

“If I wait until the alarm goes off, I won’t be able to make a decent breakfast.” You point out.

“Toast is fine, yoi.” He replies, shifting enough to kiss your neck.

“Toa-ahh-mngh. T-toast isn’t, haa, M-Marco!” His hands had started to wander, and you could feel your body heating up at the prospect.

“Want me to stop?” He questions, shifting you enough that you’re mostly on your back with him looking down at you. He hasn’t pinned you underneath him completely yet, but it wouldn’t take much.

You make a very strange, very strangled sound as the internal conflict bubbles up in you and Marco laughs, laying down on his back before you have to try and answer. You were hungry for a decent breakfast, but you couldn’t deny your more carnal cravings.

“Only because we’re still out of condoms.” You insist, sitting up and giving him a grin.

He sits up enough to rest his chin on your shoulder, hand squeezing your thigh a little. “I was only planning on having my pretty bird sing for me.” He assures you, before kissing your neck and getting out of bed.

You sit on the mattress for a moment, not moving toward the kitchen until you hear the click of the bathroom door. “Breakfast, right. Right. There’s only one objectively nutritious meal in this house, (Y/N), and it’s not in the bathroom.”

You slide out of bed and grab a pair of sweats, pulling them on as you start to gather up stuff to make breakfast. You’re up almost a full hour before your alarm, and that’s plenty of time. You get the coffee rolling and bacon cooking and set up some eggs and toast to round it out.

You hear Marco yawn as he comes into the kitchen, just a couple minutes after the coffee was done. “Scrambled or over easy?” You prompt, handing him a cup of coffee and he sits down out of your way.

“However you mean to make ‘em for yourself, yoi.” He answers sleepily.

You smile. “Not a morning person, eh doc?”

He stretches, much to your delight, and gives you a sleepy smile. “Unlike you, I need at least half a cup it seems.”

You give him a quick glance before smiling and cracking some eggs into a bowl. “Thank you for staying the night.” You reply.

“… Anytime, yoi.” He says quietly, eyes meeting yours for a moment before you both look away. After a couple sips, he stands up and goes to look out into the backyard.

You consider inviting him to stay the night again that night, but you both have work in the morning, so you shove the wishful thinking into the back of your mind and focus on breakfast.

After a few more minutes, breakfast is done and the two of you sit down to eat.

“It’s good.” He says between bites.

“It’s hard to mess up,” you reply, a smile on your face.

“I’ll have to let Ace or Luffy cook for you one day.” He says with a crooked grin.

You laugh. “You know, my instincts are telling me to pass on that.”

The two of you finish breakfast and get ready to leave. Marco wears effectively what he had yesterday, just with less layers and accessories. Long-sleeved shirt only and the pants and boots he looks pretty casual.

You give him a smile when you see him. “So… how’s your will power this morning?” You prompt, with a devilish grin.

There’s a moment of confusion before he laughs, handing over the t-shirt he’d worn yesterday. “I hope you mean to wear it with pants.”

You shake it in your hand lazily, as you head toward your room to get ready. “So that’s the defining factor, huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

You can hear him mutter something to himself even though you can’t make it out, and pull your morning clothes off, slipping into jeans, Marco’s t-shirt, and little else. Shoes and a coat and the two of you were out the door and on your way to Kid’s shop.

The car ride there was fairly quiet, but just before you arrived at the shop, Marco breaks the silence.

“Nervous?” He prompts.

“Huh? Oh, no, not really. Kid’s a professional, I just… I don’t know. I’ve never been in this situation before.” You admit with a chuckle.

“… And what kind of situation would this be, yoi?” Marco questions, looking over at you for a second before looking back at the road.

“Having my… uh… I mean.” You feel your body heat up in embarrassment. It was a perfectly logical assumption to make, with how things had been going, to assume that you were both effectively dating. Some people didn’t like using labels though, and you knew that, and you didn’t need those labels either, but you’d certainly been thinking it.

Still, trying to say it out loud was making you realize you hadn’t exactly talked about it. You grin despite it, there’s nothing really for you to worry about, and you understand that quickly.

“I mean, are you my boyfriend, my boy toy, or my sugar daddy, hm?” You manage to recover well enough that Marco coughs.

“Your sugar daddy?!” He questions in disbelief before he starts laughing.

“Not what I expected you to pick,” you shoot back and you both laugh.

Marco pulls into the shop’s parking lot, taking a moment to consider things before answering seriously. “Boyfriend works for me, yoi.” He says, parking his car. “If it works for you.”

You chew on your bottom lip lightly for a second. “Yeah, it works for me too.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 16: Frustrations

Tuesday you entered the garage once Marco brought the two of you back to your house for the day. Sure enough there was your car - you’re practically new car. Everything had either been machined, replaced, or refurbished, and you were certain the only miles on the new engine were however many Kid used to make sure everything was perfect before driving it from the shop to here.

“Wow.” Marco whistles. “It looks brand new.”

“Technically it practically is.” You admit, walking by the small work bench you had in the garage and picking the keys up before walking around it. “Man, Usopp did a phenomenal job.”

The 1978 phoenix design had been expertly recreated on the hood. Black lined the body, fading into blue, and then teal, and finally there was small golden area around where the bird’s heart would be. The wings were hollow like the original design, lined thinly in metallic gold with teal for the flames. Against the blue of the car’s body it really made the design pop.

The final touches were what you and Usopp had talked about the most. It was based off a design you’d seen of the mythological Phoenix in a book you’d read. One that, well, you weren’t sure anyone else had access to anymore.

Three sets of golden rings chained from the main body of the bird’s tail feathers. One wove its way down around the headlight assembly, the final orb painted behind the car’s manufacturer’s insignia. The other two chains slid off the hood and fluttered down the quarter panels of the car, ending just before the door handles.

“`What uh… what prompted these colors and this design?” Marco questions, walking around the car with you and admiring the work.

“It’s a little unorthodox right? Usually the phoenix is depicted with reds and golds. A powerful entity of life and rebirth and immortality.” You begin. “Timeless and mythological.”

Running your fingers over the last few chain links of golden tail feathers on the car’s door you pause for a moment before continuing.

“I read a book a long time ago, thanks to Ivan shoving books in my hands almost faster than I could read them, that had an illustration of the phoenix with colors like these.” You smile softly, a mix of the memory and your little white lie. Ivankov had shoved books into your hands as fast as you could read them when you were younger, but even so, most of the books you had read were contained within your library. A place no one could enter unless you let them.

A place that would get you executed on the spot, changed world or not, if anyone ever learned about it. You hadn’t even told Ivan about it, though you were pretty sure that he knew you had a devil fruit, even if you never used it or talked about it. Your surrogate guardian was dangerously observant.

“It was a book on Devil Fruits,” you say a little abruptly, pulling yourself out of your own memories. “That’s where I got the word tori too. The Tori Tori no Mi are a class of bird-related devil fruits, and besides, Tori-chan is just an absolutely adorable name for a car that’s probably going to sound like a demon if I rev the engine a little roughly.”

“Ah, I see. So you’re a, uh, fan of that devil fruit?” His words are a little awkward, but his expression is relaxed. He gives you an easy smile when you look over at him.

“I mean, it is a really cool fruit, but I don’t know that I’d say I was a fan.” You clarify. “No matter what a devil fruit is or does, the effectiveness of any of them is based on a ton of different variables. The stamina of the user, their capacity to mesh with the fruit, the creativity required to utilize it, and the control to keep from burning themselves out.”

You clear your throat a little, popping the trunk to see if Kid left you any surprises. “If I was a fan of any fruit, it’d be more like being a fan of the person who had it. You know, how well they could use it, and what they used it for.” You explain, pulling out a jumper kit, an emergency kit and a blanket from the trunk before lifting up the floor to see how the spare tire and jack were situated.

“I mean, who’d be a fan of someone who had like, a healing fruit and all they did was go around and kill people?” You start putting the kits back in the trunk and give Marco a smile. “It wouldn’t be the fruit’s fault, at least, but what a waste.”

“That makes sense.” He murmurs. Taking in a breath he smiles, focusing on you more than the car. “Want some company for your first drive?”

You grin. “You trust me enough to relinquish control like?” You tease.

Marco grins. “I like driving my car, yoi.” He begins. “It doesn’t mean I have trust issues.”

“Mmm, but you do like being in control.” You assert, giving him a pointed look as you unlock the car.

“You’re not talking about driving anymore.” He grins, getting into the passenger seat and setting it as far back as it will go.

“I was not,” you admit, settling in and hitting the garage door before you start up the car. The engine in your Firebird is a little louder than Marco’s SEL, but it rumbles smoothly, and the even though it’s amplified within the confines of the garage, it’s not so loud as to be a nuisance.

“It feels like it’s been months since I’ve gotten behind the wheel.” You run your hands over the steering wheel. “It’s a little surreal honestly.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, everything’s new, effectively. This isn’t my car, but it is most certainly my car.” You try to explain. “Kid did a solid job.”

“You’re not wrong, yoi. I might have to consider seeing if he’d be willing to be my primary mechanic.”

“If you actually let him work on that SEL he’d probably pay you for the privilege.” You laugh. “Next time we have a reason to go to the shop I’ll see if I can get him to show you Victoria.” You turn, looking over your shoulder as you back out of the garage. “It’s certainly one thing you two have in common, if nothing else.”

“Hm? He’s more into the older luxury cars?”

“Yeah, Vicky’s a 1957 Bel Air.”

You drove the two of you along a few back roads, hitting a long open stretch and really opening the motor for a couple of miles. You didn’t want to push your luck too much, but it was nice to be behind the wheel again. It was even nicer to have a car that wasn’t going to break down on you on the way to work, or well, anywhere within the island honestly.

You and Marco talked about cars while you drove. How he effectively inherited his from his Pops, and you admitted that your car had been a gift from Ivankov. It wasn’t in the greatest shape when you’d first gotten it, and you’re pretty sure Ivan had only meant for you to drive it for a couple of years before buying your own.

Before the car had given out, however, you’d ended up getting close to Kid. With his business it just made sense to let him keep the car running, and in the process you yourself had learned quite a bit about cars. It had worked out in the end, and even Kid had been trying to get you to replace the Firebird for the last couple of years.

He wasn’t sick of working on it, so much as he was probably worried the frame would just snap while you were in the middle of driving.

But now that wasn’t a concern. Tori-chan was as new and as safe as you could hope for, and in a way the entire process really had made her something of a phoenix.

After the drive it was dinner.

And then farewells.

The kiss in the foyer was gentle, long, sweet, and entirely too brief.

Your fingers had stayed entwined in his for as long as you could possibly manage, and you didn’t want him to leave.

He didn’t want to leave.

But there would be work in the morning, and you had your date plans set for Friday. Time that had danced around you and slipped through your fingers might deign to slow the next couple of days, but it would still move forward. It had no other choice.

Once you closed your front door, however, you had a problem you hadn’t really ever had before.

Your home was empty.

Empty hadn’t ever really been a word you had used to describe it before. It was, perhaps, a bit too big for a single person, but it had all that you needed and more. You had shelves of books, plenty of storage, and room enough to host parties occasionally. A little more than modest, decidedly less than ostentatious.

But it hadn’t ever felt empty before. Not like this.

You tried to tell yourself it was the rush of a new love, but you’d had “new” lovers before now, and even then your home had been comfort. The peace and quiet gave you time to recharge, or cool off. It never left you feeling almost hollow.

Almost cold.

It was frustrating! You were full-grown, not some teenager led around by your nose by your libido. There was no reason to be so dramatic about it.

Flopping onto the couch with a sigh, you already knew the problem wasn’t your libido. Sure there was a lot of chemistry between you, and a lot of tension, and a lot of tenderness too. You teased each other on near equal terms, and you were certain he was struggling as much as you were.

The flush in his cheeks, the red in his ears, the heat that rolled off his neck and the desire that slipped from his lips like silk. The way his fingers twitched and flexed, and the pleased sounds that rattled around in his chest.

The way he restrained himself even though you could tell he just wanted to completely take over.

In some ways you wanted to let him. Not to lose yourself in him completely, but a little. Enough that, at least in certain situations, you could happily let him lead. Let him decide.

Let him hunt you.

“-you’re going to end up that Vet’s pet, little mouse.” Kid’s words echo in your brain a little, and you scoff into the empty air of your home.

Empty.

Grumbling and muttering, you pull yourself off the couch and grab a shower before turning in early for the day. Time would pass because it had to, and if you were just going to be frustrated sitting on the couch, you might as well get a little extra rest.

If things went well this weekend you’d need the extra energy anyway.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes.

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 2: Friendly Terms

“Thank you again, doctor Marco.” You say for the third time as you get into his car. It’s a 1972 Mercedes 300 SEL and you’re almost afraid to put the plastic bags of your ruined clothes in it, despite Marco’s insistence it was okay. “You really didn’t have to go this far.”

Marco hums a little. “You could’ve kept on walking by that alley, yoi.” He says, putting the car in gear and heading out of the hospital’s lot. Your home address is already in the car’s Log Pose, quietly giving directions. “You were already having a bad day, helping that dog only made it worse.”

“No,” you interject, looking out the car window. “Not helping that dog would’ve made it worse. This was the best way the day could’ve gone.”

Marco’s silent for a moment and his eyes are on the road when you look away from the window. “How long before you’ll know if there’s an owner for her?”

“Well, we’ll know today if she’s chipped or not.” He explains. “Even so, the office team is already making calls and checking missing dog resources. They’ll reach out today and tomorrow, and we’ll post pictures once she’s awake. If you want to claim her it might take a couple weeks before we can promise full ownership but if you want to surrender her to the hospital, you can do that in a couple days.”

“I’ll probably surrender her.” You answer. “I don’t have a roommate or anything, and my job can run long some nights. It wouldn’t be right to leave her alone that much.”

“We have some cats, if you’re looking for a pet.” Marco says, a smile on his face. “A couple short hair domestics will keep each other company while you’re at work and still be happy to see you when you get home, yoi.”

You grunt. “I’ll think about it. How many pets do you have?”

“With an answer that surprises everyone, none.” He says, glancing over at you with a smile. “Every time I’ve ever tried to have a pet one of my brothers takes a liking to it. Now, whenever we have too many surrendered pets, I just walk them through the hospital and have them pick something out.”

“Ho- how many brothers do you have?” You’re not sure you want to know the answer.

“Lots.” He says with that same smile. “My foster father took a lot of boys under his care. Not many of us are blood-related, a few here and there, but we’re all Pops’ kids.”

“Oh wow. Sounds like a good man.”

“He was,” Marco answers evenly.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. A couple of my brothers took over the legacy, and the house is still full of sons and daughters.”

“That’s good then.” You smile. “I… really appreciate this, by the way.”

“Mm, you’ve said thank you quite a few times, yoi.” His grin takes on a devious tilt. “If you give me too many more thanks, I’ll be back to owing you again. Before you know it, I’ll owe you dinner at least.”

You flinch and then laugh. “That’s fair, ah… right, food.”

“Hm?”

“I was wondering why I was so hungry, and then I remembered.” You say with a soft grunt. “At least now I’ll have the time to make something, unlike this morning. Ah, there it is, on the le- oh hells.”

“You have company, it seems.”

“Yeah, I do.” You grumble.

“You going to be okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, no, I’ll be fine. He only looks like the world’s biggest delinquent.” You assure him. “Kid runs a car repair shop, and my car got towed there this morning.”

“Friend then?”

You deadpan at Kid as Marco pulls into your drive. “Enough of one, yes.” You turn to Marco and smile. “Thank you again, I-.”

“Dinner it is then?” He prompts with a smile, and you feel the blood rush up to your face.

“Th-that, I, it is-.” You stammer.

Marco laughs, and admittedly, dinner sounds like a great idea. “Don’t let me bully you into it, yoi.” He says with a smile. “It was my pleasure.”

“I’ll be by, ah, not tomorrow, but the next day.” You say, trying not to say thank you again, and gather up your bags of clothes before letting yourself out. “Th—see that you’re careful g-going back.” You manage and Marco smiles.

“Of course, yoi.” He replies as you close the door and turn toward Kid.

“The hell are you doing here?” You grumble at Kid, walking over to him.

“Your car comes into the shop, and your work says you’re in the hospital!” He snaps back at you. “Then you don’t answer your fucking phone!”

You pat the scrubs and realize they don’t have pockets and hold up the bag. “Phone’s in the bag, I didn’t hear it. I’m fine.” You assert. “Damn, did you talk to Buggy?”

“Yeah.” Kid grumbles, crossing his arms against his chest. “The fuck happened?”

You turn and smile, waving to Marco before he backs out of the driveway. “My car broke down on the way into work, once I got it towed I started walking.” You explain opening on the bags and grabbing your keys. Kid’s face crinkles at the smell.

“I came across some teenagers beating on a dog, and chased them off. Took the dog to the vet, and ended up caving in and calling off work.”

“What happened to your clothes?”

“The pittie bled on me, and then I threw up on myself.” You explain, unlocking your door and stepping inside. “Come on you bastard, I’ll make you some tea and you can bitch to me about my car.”

“I’ll toss your stuff in the wash for you.” He offers, coming in behind you and locking the door for you.

“Nah, it’s going to have to be pre-washed and treated, otherwise that blood’s never coming out.” You grumble. “But!” You add hastily. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Want me to order some grub?” He offers, and you can hear a bit of irritation in his voice.

“Planning on staying the day?” You toss back. “My car needs fixing.”

“Not for the whole day, just long enough to make sure you eat!” He snaps back. “Why’re you so fucking testy?”

You turn to look at him, giving him a flat look. “I didn’t sleep last night, my coffee had grounds in it this morning, my crockpot broke, my meager breakfast was a breakfast bar, which I threw back up once it sunk in that I was covered in blood, in a hospital from carrying a pit bull terrier for two blocks. I was fucking testy before I saw you in my drive, you asshole.”

“Fucking hells.” He swears, pulling out his phone. “Soup, sandwich or sushi?” He questions, much less irritation in his voice.

“Sandwich is fine,” you reply. “I appreciate it.”

Kid grunts, but doesn’t say much else as he puts the order in. “Are you finally going to buy a new car?”

“Is it unsalvageable?”

“If I say yes, will you buy a new car?”

“Only if you’re being honest. Otherwise, you’ll just have to charge me hourly.” You say, going through the motions of making tea as Kid sat on the dining table.

“Honestly, if I’m going to fix it this time I’m just going to buy all the parts I can’t refurbish in the shop. By the end of it you’ll have the car of Theseus.” He explains.

“A new car without buying a new car.” You muse. “Sounds good to me.”

Kid pinches the bridge of his nose. “What have you got against buying a new car? I mean, at this point you’re going to owe the shop so much you might as well have bought a new car!”

“Ah yes, but this way your shop gets the money and not the flashy dealership and it’s shady salesman.” You muse, turning toward him. “Oi! Off the table! Sit in a chair like a normal human.” You snap and Kid slides off the table and grabs one of the chairs, sitting in it backwards.

“I mean, it’s your money.” He grumbles. “You really want to support my business that much?”

You shrug. “Better the devil I know,” you say with a grin. “Besides, someone has to make sure you have enough money to keep Heat and Wire fed.”

“Not Killer, eh?”

“Oh, he can fend for himself, I’m sure.” You say with a grin.

Kid grunts. “Well, if that’s what you want.”

“It is, I like the car.” You admit. “It’s a classic at this point.”

“It’d have to be more metal than rust to be a classic.” He snorts. “You want me to restore it while I have it?”

“How long would that take?”

“Couple weeks.” He says. “But it was going to be a week to get all the parts and do the refurbish work as is.”

“Yeah, I’ll make it work then.” You say, pouring two cups of tea.

“That old Firebird worth that much to you?”

“Aye, and more.” You admit, setting a cup down on the table behind him, sitting down and forcing him to turn around properly in the chair to face you.

“Who was the dude?” He asks and it takes you a second before you roll your eyes.

“Vet.” You say, taking a sip. “He patched up my arm, got me clean scrubs so I wasn’t stuck in puke clothes, and even got me a toothbrush so I could clean up a little.”

“He wasn’t busy with the dog?”

You shake your head. “He wasn’t the vet that was taking care of her.” You say, leveling a dangerously unamused look at Kid. “You gettin’ jealous?”

“Tch. I’m allowed to worry about you.” He grumbles and your expression softens.

“As long as you stay in your lane, you’re not wrong.” You agree.

“Yeah, yeah, but why did your arm need patched up?”

“I was trying to stifle the dog’s bleeding and I hurt her. She bit me, he cleaned it up and bandaged it.” You explain, lifting the sleeve of the scrubs up and showing it to him. “Nothing major, no stitches.”

“You want a loaner for the next two weeks?” He questions.

“I’ll get a rental, sure.” You counter.

“You know, friends do things for each other like loaners and shit.” He grumbles.

“Kid, I have money, I have nothing I want to spend it on, I think the least I can do is spend it on my friends and help them out.” You counter.

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue, and gets up. “Thanks for the tea.”

“… You’re not staying for lunch?”

“I only ordered the one sandwich, I’m going to get working on your precious car.” He grumbles, biting off the words more than you know he means to.

You and Kid had dated for a few years off and on. It was always volatile. You were oil and water, or oil and oil and just too much alike in some ways to really get along. He’d get jealous far too easy for your liking, and you couldn’t understand why he wasn’t just direct with his feelings. He was smart enough and his vocabulary was certainly large enough, but it didn’t matter.

Everything tended to devolve into an argument. The sex was great, but without anything else to support it things would fall apart. After the last break up you swore him off to his face. You wanted to cut all ties entirely, but Killer had intervened and convinced you both to remain friends.

As it was, you made pretty good friends, but the sexual tension would bubble up sometimes, and it made it hard to be around him. He wasn’t just good looking, he was confident in his good looks, and his devil fruit powers aside, that confidence was magnetic.

You blamed living alone for your weakness, but you were rough around the edges yourself, with half the charisma as far as you were concerned, so the number of people willing to put up with you was very small. Ivankov and Buggy liked you well enough, but you stood staunchly by the saying that you didn’t get your honey where you made your money.

Besides, Ivan was entirely too much for you. You couldn’t keep up with him even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure anyone could, that Queen’s energy had energy, and as for Buggy – well, you were stressed out enough on your own, honestly. You didn’t need him adding to it.

“Dinner it is then?”

The veterinarian’s voice rings in your mind, and you shake your head, trying to toss the sound loose. The last thing you needed to do was waste more time dating. Someone in a job that had to be just as demanding on his free time as yours was, wasn’t going to be a good fit. You’d be dating in name only, never having a spare moment to even see one another anyway.

“Bah.” You grouse up at the ceiling, finishing the last of your tea.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 6: Brothers

“I don’t know if I can keep up.” You admit with a laugh. You’re sitting in a restaurant that is maybe a little too fancy for your tastes, but you acquiesced, and Marco seemed to know the people who worked there. “So Ace is your brother, but also brothers with two other boys, who are only brothers to him, but again, not by blood. Wait, they exchanged cups when they were like, what? Six?”

Marco chuckles. “Somewhere around there. Cheeky little thieves, yoi.”

“So, you’re the eldest then, mr. ‘I’m ancient’?” You tease.

Marco shakes his head. “Not by age, no. I was the first one Pops adopted, so I ended up filling the role of eldest son, but I’m barely into my forties.”

“A little older than I thought,” you muse, taking another bite of the house salad that precludes your meal.

“Not a little too old, I hope.” There’s a tinge of worry in his voice, but that sure and easy smile seems certain it will only hear good news.

You grin deviously, biting your lower lip suggestively before meeting his gaze. “A little too old for what? This is just a dinner to settle a tab, isn’t it?”

Marco’s face goes pink, and he chuckles a little nervously. “I’m undone by my own words, it seems.”

You smile, licking your lips to help relax your mouth so you can speak. “But no… not too old.” You admit, clearing your throat as the waiter brings your main courses.

“I hope you won’t have to sleep at the office every time I want to take you on a date, yoi.” He teases and you nearly choke on your water.

“N-no, of course not.” You assure him, as you compose yourself. “These last few days were just bah-er… unique.” You correct and then start laughing. You have a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter so you don’t disrupt other diners, and Marco gives you an inquisitive look.

“Sorry, it’s nuh-nothing really.” You say, almost losing it to another giggle fit. “It’s just a silly thought.”

“I’d love to hear it.” He says evenly. The tone of his voice, the slight smile on his face, the way those hooded eyes looked at you, was dangerous. Disarming too, and you found yourself willing to share.

“I’m just imagining introducing you. ‘This is Dr. Marco, I met him during the worst day of my life’.” You say, making a little motion with your hands and raising your voice half an octave.

It’s Marco’s turn to nearly choke, almost spitting out what he was eating and taking a second to compose himself. Despite the hand covering most of his face you can tell he’s gone pink, and he’s having a hard time looking at you.

“I warned you,” you say with a laugh.

He nods, hand over his mouth a moment longer as he tried to calm the blush out of his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he sniffs a little before letting out a soft chuckle.

“I was expecting silly,” he asserts, blush darkening on his face again despite his efforts. “Not endearing, yoi.”

It’s your turn to be flustered, and you turn your attention to your meal. The best part of having dinner with someone is that there was always something to help distract you from that other person when you needed a minute. Since it was rude to talk with your mouth full, all you had to do was keep putting food in your mouth and you could buy yourself a moment or two.

“So, if you don’t mind my asking, how many brothers do you have?” You question after a few moments of quiet eating. You’ve both had a chance to move past your earlier flustered states.

“Thirty-seven.” He says evenly and you drop your fork.

“Thir-thirty-seven?” You had expected a big number, a dozen or so maybe, but not triple that. “Holidays must be completely bonkers.”

An amused chuckle escapes him. “Most every day is a little bonkers.” He admits. “I’m not even sure how many nieces and nephews I have since Thatch took things over. It was forty-two just from my siblings who had married and started having kids.”

He takes a bite of food, mostly to give you a chance to process everything before he continues. “Most of them moved to other cities, or islands altogether. We do a full reunion about every five years, but we usually take over Heun. It works out well.”

“Heun… No way, are you telling me that your family reunions are why Heun hasn’t needed help the last…” You start to count years in your head and you and Marco answer at the same time.

“Nine years.”

You’re quiet for a moment as you process what’s going on. “Ivankov failed to mention that Heun was off the records because of a single large family.” You say flatly after a moment.

Marco smiles. “In a manner of speaking, Ivan was the reason we chose Heun.” He admits. “I didn’t realize that’s who you worked for, but when you said donations now it makes sense.”

“Ivan’s never said he’s friends with the head vet at the animal hospital either.” You say flatly. “Not that she knew I was coming to dinner with you specifically.”

“If it makes it less surreal, I’m not directly friends with Ivan.” He says evenly. “Both of Ace’s other brothers are, and Ivan and one of my… we’ll say brothers to keep it easy, was also an associate. That old reptile hasn’t been around since the first reunion, but that connection is effectively how we ended up doing what we did.”

“So… you guys load up a big barge, water, seeds, cloth, booze and food, and party hard for a couple weeks while supplying the island?”

Marco nods. “We send yearly supplies outside of that.” He admits. “You ever send stuff to Sphinx Island?”

“In the New World? Oh yeah.”

He points with his fork. “That’s the trade. Ivan has international connections that are tried and tested. He keeps Pops’ home island on his radar, and we take care of Heun.”

“With Thirty-seven brothers, you certainly have enough hands to do it too.” You admit. “Your family has sailing experience then, I take it?”

Marco nods. “It was… years ago. Back before Roger changed the world with the One Piece.”

Didn’t change it enough. You grumble internally, but keep it to yourself. That Roger changed the world for the better was undeniable, but the change wasn’t enough. The world really needed a true revolution, a liberation from the top down. Roger managed to improve the world before an incurable disease took his life, but you always felt it would’ve been better for him to pass the torch, instead of trying to carry it.

But, it was what it was. Roger’s choices had left you with little hope, but it wasn’t like he made his decision knowing your situation.

Marco cleared his throat. “My apologies, I know that can be a heavy topic.”

“It’s alright. That’s, it’s - I mean, you don’t have to answer, but why Lvneel? If you and your family were sailors, why settle down here?”

He nearly laughs. “We didn’t come straight here, yoi. We’ve been on Lvneel, oh, I guess almost twenty years, but for a couple years we still sailed.” He looks a little melancholy and sighs. “The world changed so much, and stayed the same in a lot of ways, but in the end, fate brought us here and we settled in. Lvneel’s a good place. It was much less of a city when we first got here, yoi.”

He takes a bite of food, and you can see the tips of his ears go pink before he speaks again. “It’s certainly worked out well, so far.”

The sweet shiver that goes down your back pulls a soft, awkward chuckle from your lips, despite your efforts, and you focus on your meal pointedly for a few minutes. It’s delicious, thankfully, and once your heart stops trying to beat a dent into your rib cage you manage to shift the conversation.

For better or worse your chosen topic is likely to put you right back where you were a moment ago, but you think it might be like a bandage. Ripping it free will break some of the building tension and you spare yourself lingering anticipation.

“So, Dr. Marco,” you say with a crooked smile, trying desperately to mask your nerves. “What did you have in mind for our first non-obligatory date.”

He smiles and for a split second it almost feels like you’ve been pinned to the wall. “How do you feel about surprises, yoi?”

You almost laugh. “I’d say it depends on the surprise.” You admit. “Surprise hospital bill, not high up on my list. Surprise date that doesn’t end, say, in a hospital… certainly higher up the list.”

“What’re your Saturdays like, yoi?” He prompts with a smile.

“Mostly open. I usually go into the office for a couple hours, but it’s not required.” You answer. “Yours?”

“Minimal staff, no appointments. We generally only do discharges, if anything.” He explains. “I usually go in just to avoid being called in if something unexpected happens. But, by 3pm I could be at your place, yoi.”

“To… go somewhere?” You prompt, uncertainty and, well, nerves wasn’t really the right word. There was a part of you that wasn’t sure you’d oppose making out on your couch with this man a scant few days after having met him.

His willpower better be better than yours though, or things wouldn’t stop on the couch.

He nods. “To go somewhere.” He says reassuringly. “If you wanted to invite me in, though, I wouldn’t decline, yoi.” You look up and catch the gaze looking back at you. It was relaxed as ever, hooded eyes open just enough you could feel the unexpectedly sharp gaze root you to the spot.

Something in those eyes did not carry the promise of gentlemanly behavior.

You swallow thickly, taking a drink of water almost reflexively.

“I’m guessing the where is the surprise part then?” You question and he nods. “That’s quite the gamble.”

“Oh?”

You hum. “You barely know me, what if you take me some place I can’t stand? What if I don’t like movie theaters, or long walks on the beach.” You put quotes around the last phrase, rolling your eyes a little. “Maybe I’m allergic to ice cream. The whole day could turn into a disaster.”

“The second worst day of your life, yoi?” He questions with a smile.

“Pfft,” your earlier sarcasm breaks, and you laugh. “Well played doctor, well played.”

Marco hums a little in response.

The rest of the meal goes smoothly. You and Marco talk about nothing at all really. The weather, your work schedules. You decide to go on your surprise date in a week. Saturday’s right around the corner and you still have plenty of work to deal with, so the next one after is best.

You exchange phone numbers, and even plan to meet at Sanji’s café for lunch when work allows for it. Little details weaving between the fabric of the lives you both currently live.

Maybe you’re not as busy as you always thought you were. Maybe it’s that you’re all rough edges and biting wit. Maybe you and Kid were just a bad mix. And Daz, and Galette – though admittedly those two were only in Lvneel on business, and you hadn’t intended to leave the island. Some of your relationships had been just kind of doomed like that. Fukaboshi was a fishman with responsibilities heavy enough to try and drag you under, but it hadn’t been a bad summer that year.

In between there was always Kid.

He wasn’t a bad guy. Him, Killer, Heat and Wire ran a successful business, one you’d benefited from more than once. You fit so poorly, off and on, for so long, that you had started to think there was simply something wrong with you. Some deficiency or flaw that you couldn’t smooth down enough to make it work.

But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t hit a rough edge and growl, or pull his hand back. What little wit you’d thrown at him he’d taken in stride, and returned skillfully.

Kid was straight forward and crude. You knew within moments that he wanted to get to know you, he’d said as much in words heavy with lust and fire. If nothing else, you never had to wonder what was on Kid’s mind, or what he wanted. Which had been refreshing at first, a change of pace from people who seemed either timid or falsely polite.

Marco’s words hadn’t been crude, or timid, and there wasn’t any ulterior motive in his politeness. But yet he had still been direct in his desires. Without a single crude word, or wandering hand.

As you walked up to your door, the sun dipping low, you knew you could invite him inside and he would say yes. You knew dessert had been a while ago, but his lips would still taste sweet. You knew that his steady manner and even cadence would slip you so easily from your clothes, and you would happily drown in it.

There was no need to guess.

He put the car in park and got out, walking up to the door with you, a few paces behind, hands tucked in his pockets. The air was chill enough that your breath came out in little white puffs, catching the last few glimmers of the setting sun, and picking up the orange yellow glow of the streetlamps.

“Walking me to my door, you’re quite the gentleman, doc.” You muse, putting your back to the door and giving him a smile. You weren’t quite at eye level with him, despite the step up from walkway to porch. He gives you a smile, relaxing his shoulders and letting his coat drop down a little. You could see the chill run across his skin as little bumps formed, and remembered scrubs weren’t exactly warm.

“It’s purely selfish.” He says, reaching out for a hand you were offering him before you even realized what you were doing. He brings your fingers up to his lips bending down a little, but still keeping his eyes on yours as you feel the blood rush up to your face.

“Until next time, Miss (Y/N).” He says softly, before placing a kiss against your fingers.

“Ah… in… indeed.” You manage as he straightens back up, giving you a warm smile before going back to his car.

It took you a moment to remember how keys worked, but you got inside and realized he didn’t leave the drive until you were safe inside the house. Whether he lingered a minute longer in case you needed something, or because he didn’t want to leave, you couldn’t say.

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes.

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 3: Coffee

Yawning you take another drink of coffee and stretch. It was just before lunch and you felt relieved to be back at work. You’d caved and let Kid drive you into work, but you’d been adamant about finding your own ride home.

Going over the numbers again was going to require a break first, and you wanted to get out and stretch your legs. It was beautiful outside today, if not a little cold, but it was autumn, and Lvneel was an island that experienced all the seasons. None of them were extreme, however, which made it a nice place to live.

Putting on your coat you walk through the rows of cubicles, stopping briefly by an office. “Bon-chan,” you say, causing the dark-haired man to look up from his work at you. “I’m going to step out for lunch, want me to bring anything back?”

“Non,” he says after a moment’s consideration. “Ivan-sama is bringing me something, but thank you Miss (Y/N) for asking.”

You smile. “Of course, Bon-bon. Is Buggy fed and watered too?”

“I’m not a plant!” Buggy grumbles, his head popping up over the wall of a cubical.

“Some sort of exotic pet then?” You prompt and watch his face go red. “Buggy – do you need me to bring anything back?”

“… A flashy coffee.”

“Coffee is not food.”

“I had a burrito earlier, I don’t need food. I need coffee.” He grumbles disappearing back behind the cube wall.

“Aye, aye.” You answer, with a wave of your hand.

Heading out of the office building you made your way over to the nearby café. It was late enough the lunch rush was over, and early enough that nothing baked that morning was going to be stale. Heading in you grab one of the bento boxes from the stand and walk up to order.

“Black coffee, and the lunch.” You set the box up on the counter as the blonde behind the counter smiles. “How goes, Sanji?”

“Every day is improved when a beauty like you graces my shop, (Y/N)-chan.” He says with that same easy smile. Sanji was happily married, and his flirting was always more like flowery complimenting. You’d met his husband a few times. A very stern man with mossy green hair and resting murder face.

Zoro was a good person though, and they were both adorable toward one another when they didn’t think anyone was paying attention. They were friends with people who were friends with Kid and Killer, so you knew them well enough even if you didn’t hang out much directly anymore.

You smile in return. “I bet. I’ll need a decaf Flashy coffee when I leave, can I just pay for it now?”

“Of course,” he says, punching in the complicated drink Buggy enjoyed. “Decaf today, huh? Did he do something bad?”

You laugh a little. “His head came up over the cubicle when I asked him what he needed. He usually only detaches like that when he’s already stressed.”

“Ah, alright. You’re all set. I’ll get that drink going once you’re done, so don’t feel rushed.”

“Thank you, Sanji.”

You sit down at one of the empty tables and dig into the meal. The best thing about Sanji was his cooking as far as you were concerned. It wasn’t just that his food was delicious, but it was always exactly what you needed. The price was good too, especially for a place located in one of the busier parts of the city.

You nearly choked when you looked up just in time to catch Marco’s gaze as he came into the café. He was in scrubs, his lab coat, and a jacket over that. He gives you a smile as he walks up to the counter.

“Sanji, how are you today?”

“Not bad, doc, how’re the patients?” Sanji asks.

“Better behaved than most of the staff.” Marco jokes. “Ah, it’ll be two black coffees, a macchiato, an iced decaf and a green tea for today, yoi.”

“Sure thing, I’ll get that going for you.” Sanji says, ringing up the order.

“Flying solo today?”

“Robin-chan took care of the lunch rush single-handedly.” Sanji says, beaming. “The moss head will be in later and Duval will be in before the dinner rush starts.”

Marco laughs. “Alright then.”

Sanji gets to work with the drink orders and Marco comes over to your table.

“Spare a few moments to keep an old man company?” He requests, and you put a hand out toward a chair.

“Old man, huh?” You question, giving him a soft smile.

“Ancient.” He says, smiling in return. “You look like you’re doing a lot better today, yoi.”

You nod. “Decidedly. I slept last night and my coffee wasn’t crunchy this morning.” You admit giving him a genuine smile. “Any luck with the Pittie?”

He shakes his head. “She’s not chipped, and so far the only active missing requests are for brunettes and blondes. No one, sadly, is looking for a beautiful blue girl.”

“… Will she be okay if I don’t take her?” You ask, worry on your face. “I know how people can be with that breed.”

Marco’s brows raise a little, and he smiles. “Ah, she’s the darling of the hospital already, yoi. If you don’t take her I’m sure someone on my staff will. If you have time, you should come by tomorrow. There’s a small bit of paperwork to do and I’m sure the patient would love to show her appreciation, yoi.”

You smile. “I had planned to pull a long shift today specifically to leave early tomorrow so I could come by.”

“Good, that’ll leave us plenty of time for dinner afterward.” He says, leaning on his hand and regarding you with an easy smile.

He’s relaxed from his words down to his posture. His eyes are hooded, and his voice is even. There’s no bravado, no bluster, but the confidence is there. The first time he brought up dinner it was a distraction, the second time it was teasing, but this time there’s a seriousness to his offer. A weight that wasn’t there before.

Your eyes go to your drink and you lift it to your lips slowly, unable to meet that gaze as you respond. “Do you really want to take me to dinner?”

“Mm,” he hums affirmatively. “You made quite the impression, yoi.”

You almost choke on your coffee, setting it down as you laugh. “I nearly threw up on you, that is certainly an impression.” You look at him, and the smile on his face causes you to press your lips together and look away. It was easier to be around Kid when he was in one of his moods, than it was to match that smile.

You chew your lip and fidget a little, mulling over the offer, and letting your own smile show through as he sat quietly and left you to your pondering.

“Do I get to ride in that car again?” You question. Your face is turned away a little, but you’re looking him in the eyes.

“That car?” He repeats, his smile widening a little. “I see it made an impression, yoi.”

“It’s a custom silver blue paint job for starters, and even a stock 1972 Mercedes 300 SEL would make an impression. Those fabric seats aren’t stock either, and for an ancient car, it didn’t have a spot of rust, so you’ve either restored it a time or two, or taken flawless care of it.” You rattle off, taking a few more bites of your lunch and when you’re done you look up to see Marco smiling at you in a way that makes your heart skip.

“What?” You barely even really ask the question, caught like a deer in headlights.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers smoothly, looking away and glancing out to the street. “Since it’s the only car I have,” he continues, looking back at you. “Then can I take that as a yes?”

“No place fancy.” You counter.

“I’ll even wear my scrubs.” He offers.

“I want to look under the hood.”

“I get to pay the entire tab.”

You narrow your eyes a little and then smile. “Alright, fair.”

“Oi, doc, order’s set.” Sanji calls from the counter.

“Excuse me,” Marco says, getting up and going over to the counter. He picks up a 6-part carrier with sugar, creamer and straws in the empty pocket. “Thank you Sanji.”

“Of course.” Sanji replies with a smile.

“It’s been a pleasure, miss (Y/N),” Marco offers, walking by your table before he leaves. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

Your self-assurance abandons you in record time and you look away with a small, muttered, “me too.” As he leaves.

It takes you a few minutes to return to your meal, and you can feel Sanji’s eyes boring a hole into the back of your head. You don’t even spare him a clipped “What?” because you know it’ll prompt him to dive face first into his usual romanticism, and a lot harder than usual.

It was just dinner. Dinner with him in his scrubs. It wasn’t going to be anything. It wasn’t. There was no need for you to sit here and think about how it would be nice for it to be more. No reason to think that being busy at work meant you’d use your time together at home efficiently.

At home?!

You put your face in your hands to try and drive your snowballing thought away. You nearly threw up on him, and here you are picking out curtains and thinking about the quiet moments.

You hadn’t even had any loud moments.

You had been covered in blood and vomit, you hadn’t even touched the man’s hand.

But.

He had seen you at your absolute worst, or close enough to it, and was actively looking to spend more time with you. That was worth a lot. Worth enough that maybe you could shove your recent cynicism aside and at least enjoy yourself.

“(Y/N)?” Sanji questions, hand on your shoulder and you nearly leap out of your skin. “Sorry. I was calling for a couple minutes, I was worried you were having some kind of seizure.”

“Haaa, maybe.” You sigh a little. “Is that Buggy’s disaster decaf?” You prompt, pointing at the drink in his hand.

“Indeed.” He says with a smile. “If it’s going to be a long night I can send the idiot moss head over with a spare coffee for you?”

You snort. “You married the guy, don’t call him that.” You grin, standing up and taking the coffee.

“It is said with love, Miss (Y/N)-chan, I promise.” He assures you, beaming a smile that backs up his words.

“Alright, alright, and yes. That’d be fantastic. He can send a text and I’ll come down to the front doors. If I’m done before nine I’ll shoot you a text.”

“How’re you getting home that late?”

“Bon-bon’s going to be late today too, and I imagine Buggy’s going to stay over just by virtue of being a worrisome little shit.” You explain. “I was planning on ordering a Bubble Ride, but if they’re still around I’ll grab a ride home with one of them.”

“Alright,” Sanji pulls a cigarette from his front pocket and follows you outside. “Be sure to call Jaggy if you need to.” He insists, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. “Don’t let that pride get in your way.”

You salute and give him a wink. “Aye, aye.”

[shirohige-pirates]

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 5: Nameless Firebird

“I really appreciate this.” You feel a little like a broken record at this point, but you’re not sure what else you can say. “I feel like I’m managing to show you all my worst traits like some gallery of flaws.”

He chuckles a little, the sound slipping over you soothingly. “You’ll have to be far more direct, Miss (Y/N) if you’re trying to run me off, yoi.”

You feel the rush coil in your stomach a little and laugh nervously. “Ah, haha, yeah I have no qualms about being direct, I promise.”

“You sleep at your office often?” He prompts, shifting the conversation as he turns off the main streets and heads toward your place.

“Not enough to have my own apartment key or anything,” you answer teasingly. “But often enough the owner brought in breakfast for me this morning.”

“It’s good to have a boss that looks out for you like that.” He muses, and you can see the smirk on his face as you laugh.

“Ah, like one who picks up five drinks on his own to keep his staff happy?” You prompt.

“Vet staff operate on coffee and purring kittens.” He assures you.

Oh, to be a purring kitten. You muse to yourself, imagining how you could fit at least six kittens on his shoulders. Eight, if his shoulders weren’t so relaxed.

His car pulls into your, thankfully empty, driveway and you step out as he puts the car in park. He doesn’t make a move to exit so you duck down and look over at him.

“Come inside.” You say, not offering up a choice so much as making a demand. “I’m certain you’re enough of a gentleman you’ll stay put in the living room while I get cleaned up and changed.”

You see his ear go red from your current viewpoint and he smiles. “There’s no easy way to argue that, yoi.” He says with a smile, pulling the keys free of the ignition and stepping out of the car.

You smile as you lead him up to the front door. “More efficient when there’s no room left for argument.”

He chuckles at the statement as you open the door. Wooden floors, a more modern design, and not much aside from basic furniture and some sparse decorations. Your home was a little spartan, but you didn’t really spend much time at home, so you hadn’t seen much of a reason to really dive into it.

It was functional. Functional enough to play host to a dozen people if needed, but any more than that and you’d have to rent extra chairs and maybe consider paper plates.

“Let me start up some coffee before I hop in the shower.” You offer, heading to the kitchen. “The TV’s single remote controlled, I just have a basic package, but you’re welcome to watch something.”

“It’ll be nice to enjoy the quiet,” he assures you. “You don’t have to make coffee just for me.”

“Mm, well, I’m currently all out of kitten purrs, so this’ll have to do.” You say with a smile, pulling down a couple of mugs. “Some fresh coffee will be nice after my shower anyway, so it’s not just for you.”

“In that case, I gladly accept.” He chuckles softly, staying at the edge of the kitchen. “It’s a nice place you have here.”

“Thanks. It was one of the first places built, we had to gut it and rebuild it just before I moved in. Don’t compliment the cleanliness of it,” you say with a smile. “I pay for a service. Or do compliment it,” you add. “They do a great job.”

You point to a sky-blue mug. “You can use this one when the coffee’s ready. There’s sugar, and some creamer in the fridge, but I don’t think you’ll need them.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, two black coffees,” you say, giving him a grin. “Starsky and Hutch don’t strike me as coffee aficionados, your receptionist was probably the macchiato, and for completely different reasons I bet you and the laconic vet both prefer black coffee.”

The look of surprise on Marco’s face turns to a smile and then he laughs. “That’s pretty impressive, yoi.” Those hooded blue eyes of his catch your gaze, and for a split second you can almost feel something akin to talons wrapping around you, but the sensation passes as swiftly as it struck.

“What would those different reasons be, I wonder?”

You grin mischievously for a second before walking toward him, and then patting him on the arm before you continue walking by. “Gonna take that shower now, I hope you enjoy the coffee, Dr. Marco.”

You walk down the hall to your room, stepping inside and closing the door behind you before you exhale into the room.

“Hhhhholy hells.” You sigh into the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You’d flirted before, with more people than just Kid, who had – admittedly – been the center of your verbal jousts for some time. Dealing with Marco wasn’t like finding a new opponent, it was like you’d moved into an entirely new bracket and were scrambling.

You had a sinking feeling that what control you thought you were holding onto was simply out of the man’s benevolence. That relaxed posture of his, the easy way he did everything and the quiet confidence that rolled off of him were dangerous. They were comfortable, and comforting for that matter. It was almost like you were floating peacefully on the water’s surface, completely unaware of the shark swimming by a few feet below.

When Kid pulled you in you knew you were getting tugged. But with Marco…

He could knock on your door and ask to join you for your shower, and you wouldn’t say no. You didn’t even let Kid past your front door for months when you two first started dating. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not you trusted him, so much as the act of letting him into your house was equal to letting him into your bedroom.

That’s just how it was between the two of you.

The tension was going to kill you. The desire was going to get you into trouble. You almost wanted to just poke your head out into the hall and ask him to leave. He would. He would with little more than a thank you for the coffee and a tilt of his head.

You’d never see him again. You were certain of it. That’s all the push it would take, and he would be gone, and if you came into the animal hospital, things would be in your control. Professional or confessional.

How easy it would be, to let your desires pass your lips and have that first, sweet, tentative – gods no it wouldn’t be tentative. It would be so soft and sure and –.

You bang your head on the side of the shower. The only thing stopping you from braining yourself into unconsciousness is that there’s only one person who would find you passed out with a welt on your forehead, and honestly you had shown enough of your ass to him already.

Rather your ass was about the only thing you hadn’t shown him. Right now you weren’t too keen on the idea because you really didn’t want that first time to be a collection of unfortunate events like your first meeting had been.

Though, had it really been that unfortunate? Aside from effectively saving that dog, you did meet someone who saw you puke before he even heard your name, and was interested in getting to know you. Seemed interested? Had to be interested.

You level a sharp stare at absolutely no one and nod your head. This is not some sort of misunderstanding. He’s not simply being nice, or polite. There are several ways he could repay your, uh, kindness? That didn’t involve taking you out to dinner.

You really felt as though the entire series of events had left things level and settled. There was, as far as you were concerned, nothing truly left owed one way or another.

Pulling a t-shirt on to go with the cargo jeans you’d already slipped into, you towel dried your hair one more time before walking back out into the living room.

Marco was standing in your living room, looking out the large windows that gave a nice view of the backyard and forest beyond. He was sipping coffee from the sky-blue mug you had indicated to him earlier and apparently, truly, just enjoying the quiet.

“See anything good?” You prompted, pouring a cup of coffee for yourself.

“A few rabbits and some birds.” He admits, turning toward you. “It’s quite the relaxing view.”

“Mm, houses close enough together I know the neighbors by sight, city far enough away there’s a few good hours every day where you don’t hear a single car.” You take a drink of coffee. “Perfect.”

“Your coffee is very good.” He says with a smile, drinking the last of his. “Is there anywhere you’d like to go for dinner?”

“Mm, there are a few places I like.” You admit, smiling at him after you take another drink.

He gives you an expectant look for a moment and then smiles. “Ah, I’m being left on my own.”

“You’re paying the entire tab,” you jab. “It’s only fair you choose. Ah, but still nothing fancy.” You add hastily and are rewarded with another amused smile.

“We have plenty of time still, I would love that look under the hood.” You are being a bit of a brat, but it’s refreshing to tease someone who takes it in stride.

“It would be my pleasure, yoi.”

The two of you get your shoes on, but you forego your coat for now. Marco pops the hood for you and holds it up. You look for the arm to keep it up and quickly realize it either doesn’t exist or broke at some point.

“No arm has to make working on it a pain,” you say leaning in the other side and looking around. It’s almost immaculate inside the engine.

“Had a custom hydraulic arm, but it gave out a couple weeks ago, yoi. Ace nearly decapitated himself forgetting that it was busted so I took it out until the replacement comes in.” He explains.

“Ace is?”

“The youngest.” He says and you give a soft ah, as you keep peering around.

“How often do you clean this engine?”

“Two or three times a year, yoi.” He answers, shifting a bit and resting the hood more on his shoulder. “I’ll rinse the snow and salt off in the winter every day if it’s bad enough, but my brothers help. They’ll wash it pretty often and I just fill in the gaps.

“It was Pops’ car first, so everyone looks out for it, even if I’m the only one that really drives her.” He admits.

“He took good care of her before you inherited it.” You say, coming around closer to where Marco was. “That engine isn’t original, but that’s not surprising.”

“You really like cars.” He muses.

You smile and chuckle a little. “I like old cars.” You clarify. “Seeing how things were, how they’ve progressed. There’s a challenge in keeping something going that isn’t easy to find parts for. I mean, sadly, my car’s in the shop getting the overhaul of its life. But that old girl was mostly rust and dreams when I bought her.”

“I look forward to seeing her.” He says and you realize you’re practically up against him, having shifted all the way around the hood.

Marco moves enough to let you get by him. He’s so tall he’s able to arch over you and keep hold of the hood.  You’re grateful you left your coat in the house, you’d be sweating right now if you had it on.

“Me too. Much as I like old cars, my practical knowledge is completely useless. I can’t restore her, or fix her, so I have to rely on a trusted mechanic.” You admit with a little irritation in your voice.

“Not a friend?”

“Merf.” You make a noncommittal noise, and finally step back letting Marco lower the hood. “Kid’s not not a friend, but he’s a trusted mechanic before much else. We were kind of like a car with square tires.” You muse, giving a clipped laugh. “As long as one of us was on edge, we could go forward. It gave a false sense of functionality.”

“And now?”

“Mm, to keep with the analogy, now we each have our own cars. He’s got Victoria – and I do mean a car – and I have my old Firebird.”

“A nameless Firebird, huh?” Marco prompts as you turn and meet his gaze. There’s something in his eyes that seems even more intrigued than a few moments ago.

“Even if she had one,” you start, heading back toward the house. “After all the work Kid’s going to do to her, she’d need a new name.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, in honor of her rebirth or something. A mark of survival, a statement of resilience.” You continue, kicking off your shoes and stepping further into the hallway. “Unless you’re crazy hungry and want to leave right now, I just want to finish my coffee before we go.”

Marco takes off his shoes and follows behind you. “Take your time. Did you have any names in mind, yoi?”

“Well, I could start calling her my phoenix, but that’s a bit on the nose, especially for a Firebird, of all cars.” You say with a laugh. “Maybe I’ll just name her Tori-chan.”

Marco has his hand over his face when you look over at him, his lips pressed together as he takes in a deep breath slowly and lets it out just as slowly.

“You alright?” You question, tilting your head before taking a gulp of your nearly cold coffee. Good as you were at making a cup of coffee, it wasn’t so hot when it was cold.

“I’m having a small crisis.” He admits, lowering his hand enough to look at you over his palm, leaving his mouth covered. “What do you know about devil fruits?”

You raise your eyebrows a little and tilt your head. “More than most, I imagine. People I work with have eaten one. Kid too. They’re not like, walking around with signs around their necks or anything, but Kid’s certainly not shy about his. They taste awful, they’re incredibly rare, but it seems like pockets of devil fruit users end up congregating, almost like the fruits are a draw to one another.”

You set your coffee cup down and lean against the pantry door, folding your arms and looking over at Marco.

“You’ve eaten one as well, I’m guessing.” You state, all the answer you need is in eyes that don’t look away from yours. “It doesn’t bother me, if you’re worried about that. You don’t even have to tell me what it is until you want to.”

“… I appreciate that.” He says heavily, letting his hand drop all the way down. “I haven’t used it since Pops died, and the clinic opened. Well, I haven’t used it openly.”

You’re quiet, lips pressed together for a moment.

“You have questions.” He says, an easy smile on his face again.

“A great many, but I can stow my curiosity.” You assure him, straightening up and smiling brightly. “Dinner, then?”

“It would be my pleasure, yoi.” He agrees, bowing slightly.