#izo x reader

“Do you not take a blanket or a coat with you?” he asked. “Gloves, at least?”

You smiled and rubbed your palms together. “Don’t have any good enough for the sea air. And dragging a blanket around is far too much work. But don’t worry too much about me, I’ll probably survive.”

He shook his head. “You have questionable survival skills.”

“At times,” you acknowledged.

The next morning when you joined him at breakfast, a second cup of tea waited by your usual seat. You smiled warmly at him as you picked it up, the heat seeping into your sore joints. “Thank you.”

He inclined his head toward you. “It’ll be the most effective way to keep you warm in the morning. Maybe your hands will defrost.”

You teasingly wrapped your hand around his wrist and he startled at the temperature. “We can hope.”

His eyes dropped briefly to where your fingers circled his wrist before he took another measured sip of tea as though nothing had happened at all.

It turned into a fun little game; resting your hand against him every time you returned from your night watches. He stopped startling eventually but he still gave you a look that made you laugh every time. He even started shifting his sleeve out of the way before you reached for him, subtle enough that you almost thought you imagined it the first few times.

He wasn’t the warmest person on the ship by any means. There were plenty amongst the crew who carried enough heat to chase the cold from your hands instantly. Somehow though, resting your fingers against Izou’s wrist or forearm always worked better than the tea he slid toward you every morning.

“I’m starting to believe you crawl down the side of the ship and sit with your hands in the ocean for hours,” he muttered.

“I think it’s the wind,” you said. “It’s been a little chilled.”

“I’m going to ask Marco to remove you from the night watch at this rate,” he warned. “Although you may enjoy the air, I think you’ll be far less useful once frostbite finishes claiming your limbs.”

“If I lose an arm, I’m sure he could reattach it.”

Izou gave you a firm look. “That’s decidedly not how his powers work.”

“Maybe he couldn’t with his phoenix fire but I trust that he’s a good enough doctor.”

Izou shook his head slightly. You snuck a hand under his sleeve, pressing your fingers into the warmth of his forearm. If nothing else, he was rapidly learning how to function at breakfast with one hand.

Days passed with the same routine until one morning when you wandered into breakfast and found a fine black box sitting neatly beside your cup. Dark silk ribbon had been wrapped carefully around it, the knot pristine enough that you immediately looked toward Izou.

He nudged it toward you once you approached. “For you. Seeing as you insist upon inflicting pain onto yourself.”

You frowned but lightly pulled on the ribbon. Inside the box lay a pair of perfect leather gloves, stitched in a fine, strong thread. Their rich colour was mesmerising. They were the most beautiful gloves you’d seen and you had no idea where Izou could have even gotten them from.

“These are beautiful,” you breathed out, gently lifting them from the box. “Where did you get them?”

“I commissioned them for collection prior to our arrival on the last island,” he said, not meeting your eyes. “They should fit.”

And they did. They were warm and elegant but flexible too. You ran your fingers over the back of one after you put it on, rolling your hand around to test them.

“How did you get it so perfect?” you asked.

He inclined his head, smile faint but proud. “They’ll take some time to break in but at least now you should keep all your fingers.”

You placed them carefully back into the box. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Try not to ascribe too much selflessness to it. This is an act of self-preservation.”

You laughed and reached for your cup of tea. The warm ceramic was a welcome balm against your still chilled fingers. It was impressive that Izou always managed to have it at perfect drinking temperature by the time you arrived.

You were halfway through breakfast when Izou glanced over at you. “Are you not cold this morning?”

“Hm?”

He nodded to your hands. “You only received the gloves now. I imagined my suffering might still last until tomorrow.”

You held your tea up for him to see. “As a thank you, I’ll give you a break from your torment,” you teased. “I did see something pretty interesting last night though. A young sea king or… at least a very small one.”

For a second, something strange flickered across Izou’s face; a slight displeasure that was smoothed away back into perfect composure immediately. He adjusted the sleeves of his kimono and nodded to you to continue.

“That’s quite unusual.”

You nodded, not quite sure what to make of his momentary unhappiness. When it didn’t come back, you brushed it off as nothing. If it truly bothered him, you assumed he would mention it eventually.

The gloves quickly became part of your usual wardrobe. The leather softened more with every wear until they fit like they had been made with your hands in mind from the start. Even on warmer days, when the sea breeze carried no bite at all, you still found yourself reaching for them before leaving your room. They were fashionable enough to suit just about any outfit and they provided a nice talking point.

Mainly because of you. You wouldn’t stop talking about them.

Everybody on the ship had heard at least one explanation about how amazing the gloves were and how much you appreciated Izou for the gift. By the third day, several members of the crew had started finishing your sentences for you whenever the subject came up.

It got to the point where, when you joined Izou and Thatch for dinner, the chef pointed a spoon at you the second you approached the table. “I don’t want to hear about the gloves. I know they’re nice but I’ve heard it enough.”

“I haven’t even said hello yet,” you protested softly.

“Because you were about to start talking about the gloves.”

Haruta snorted loudly from further down the table. “He’s right. You’ve talked about nothing else for days.”

Izou looked toward the gloves with an expression you couldn’t quite place. Not pleased but not exactly annoyed either.

Thatch noticed immediately. “Oh, now that’s interesting,” he muttered into his drink.

“Be quiet,” Izou said without missing a beat. “It’s warm enough that you don’t need gloves right now.”

“I know but they’re so soft and lovely,” you said, holding them up for him to see. “It’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, I just didn’t anticipate such enthusiasm for them.”

You smiled fondly. “They’re such a lovely gift. I appreciate them a lot.”

“They’re only gloves.”

You frowned, not having expected the sharp dismissal. You were far from the only person giving him strange looks; even Thatch had paused in his conversation with Jozu, his brows furrowed in Izou’s general direction.

“Only gloves?” he repeated.

Izou ignored him.

“But they’re so thoughtful and well-crafted,” you protested.

“You might be overstating their features. You praise them so much you would think I forged them from gold.”

“They’re the nicest thing I own.”

“I think that says a great deal more about the quality of your wardrobe then,” he said. “I should consider getting you some more articles then.”

You smiled, tension somewhat broken by his dry comment. You nudged him with your elbow gently. “Izou, they’re my favourite because you gave them to me. I would love them no matter what they were.”

Something softened briefly in Izou’s expression before he lowered his gaze toward his drink again. He hummed in acknowledgement but said nothing else about the subject.

Two days later, the gloves disappeared.

There was no way you could have lost them. You’d worn them for the first portion of the night before you went to bed. And whenever you did that, you’d always take them off and delicately put them into their box which sat atop your dresser.

But when you went to get them before breakfast, they were gone.

The box still sat where you had left it but when you pulled it open, the folded paper inside rustled empty beneath your hands. No leather. No gloves. A strange cold panic settled in your stomach almost instantly and within minutes you were dragging through your room hard enough to rattle furniture against the walls.

You went through every other person’s hammock or bunk in case it had been moved. You stuck your head into the dustiest parts of the room and got rewarded with nothing but several sneezing fits.

Your next stop was the crow’s nest where you almost gave Haruta, who was half-asleep on his watch, a heart attack. He insisted there were no gloves up there and you almost landed on Fossa when you clambered back down.

You moved across the deck with enough frantic speed that crew members had to step aside before you collided with them. Boots hammered against the wood as you cut between groups, your eyes catching desperately on every dark corner and unattended surface.

Vista caught you as you rushed out of the dining room, already planning on making your way toward the galley. You were never in there but maybe somebody else had seen it.

“Missing something?”

“My gloves,” you said. “You know, the leather ones that – ”

“I know your gloves,” he interrupted. “The ones that Izou had specifically made for you. The same pair he spent weeks planning for.”

“I mean, I don’t know about him spending weeks on them…”

“I do,” Vista reassured. “Thatch wouldn’t stop complaining about Izou hovering around the galley while organising it.”

That made it so much worse… You rubbed your arms and gave him a desperate expression. He shook his head with a slight chuckle.

“Alright, let’s see if we can find them then. I remember you wearing them last night.”

“I was,” you said with a nod. “I remember taking them to my room but I’ve looked there twice now and found nothing.”

On Vista’s instruction, more than half of the fifth division found time between their daily duties to search the entire ship for your gloves. You helped where you could, buzzing about between the group as they checked every barrel and table.

Enough people climbed into the crow’s nest that Haruta eventually leaned over the railing with murderous intent in his eyes.

“There are no gloves up here!” he shouted across the deck.

“Check again!” somebody yelled back immediately.

“I will start kicking people off this ship!”

You winced when he did so, looking around to see if Izou was anywhere to be seen.

You weren’t sure you were ready to tell him yet.

“I know you’ve lost your gloves,” Marco said when you made your way to the infirmary before you even started explaining yourself. “I don’t understand why half the ship needs to come to a halt because of it though.”

“It’s only the fifth division,” you defended.

Marco gave you a flat look. “It’s not only the fifth,” he muttered. “I’ve caught about a third of my division looking around the medical bays. Fossa just checked my office for gloves.”

“Maybe they ended up there.”

“Why would they end up there?”

“They’re really important to me, Marco. If I’ve lost them, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Have you checked the rooms?”

“Twice. Just not the commander’s quarters aside from Vista’s.”

“Why would they be there?”

“They wouldn’t but I’m leaving nowhere unchecked. Speaking of…”

Marco sighed and still allowed you to go through both his office and personal quarters despite you never having been in either before. You were also needing to avoid Izou as best you could, ducking away when you spotted him on the storage deck.

You convinced some of the other commanders to let you look through their quarters too but eventually ended up pacing empty-handed next to Vista.

“I have an idea,” he said. “But I don’t know if you actually lost them.”

“Do you think somebody could have stolen them?”

He tapped a rhythm against the hilt of a blade, his gaze scanning over the deck. “I don’t think anybody would steal them but if they were truly lost, my men should have found it by now. Did Izou simply give them to you because your hands were cold?”

“That’s what he said,” you acknowledged quietly. “Though I think he was getting tired of freezing every morning. I have watch again tonight and I’m not used to this weather anymore.”

Vista hummed, clearly thinking. “I think I know where they might be. I’ll check and keep you updated.”

Unfortunately, whatever his plan, it didn’t result in your gloves returning before evening came along. The only reprieve you got was that Izou didn’t arrive at dinner and that both reassured and panicked you in equal measure. The guilt you had about him knowing that you’d lost his precious gift weighed heavily on you.

And your night watch started out even more miserable.

Marco offered to switch your schedule for the evening but you rejected it, planning to spend your free time searching over the deck. Again.

Instead, you ended up leaning uselessly against the railing, accomplishing very little beyond staring out across the dark ocean. The wind curled relentlessly around your fingers and knuckles, cold enough now that every flex of your hands felt tight and uncomfortable without the gloves.

It was far from the coldest temperature you’d sat through but it felt all the worse.

And you were kind of missing Izou too. You weren’t used to avoiding him.

You didn’t know how long you stood, watching the ocean pass instead of actually doing what was required of you, but your mourning was interrupted by a smooth voice.

“Are you plotting the best way to get frostbite again?”

You startled; turning to find Izou standing far closer than he should have been able to get without you noticing. You must have been completely lost in your thoughts to not notice his approach – as quiet as he moved, it was still with a steady enough pace that you normally recognised his approach.

The wind shifted strands of dark hair loose across his face, silk catching briefly in the moonlight as he waited for your answer. The lantern glow from further down the deck softened the sharpness of his expression but did little to hide the quiet attention in his eyes. You smiled, a shaky and uncertain thing.

“It’s a nice evening for it,” you answered.

You wrung your hands together, joints slightly stiff from the cold. Izou’s gaze dropped to them for a second before he met your eyes.

“You look cold.”

“I am,” you admitted, slipping them behind your back on instinct. “But nothing too bad… I… I lost the gloves. I’m so sorry Izou. I searched everywhere for them and they’re nowhere. They must have gone overboard because I checked every corner of the ship.”

“I know,” he said. “I noticed how many on the ship were looking for them today.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologised again. “I tried my hardest to keep them safe.”

“Don’t apologise. There’s nothing to be so upset over. They’re only gloves.”

You brought your hands back around to breathe on them, pressing your palms together. “I know but I appreciated how warm they kept me. And they saved your arms too.”

Izou sighed, stepping closer smoothly. “I hardly complained about it though I fear on a night like this, my sleeves may not provide you with enough warmth at all.”

“It’s really okay,” you said with a small laugh. “I’m not losing fingers yet.”

His gaze lingered on your hands for a moment too long and then he held out his hand. “I’m not certain we should take that chance. After all, you clearly have poor circulation.”

You almost laughed but rested your palm carefully against his. His hand was far warmer than the night air, heat sinking quickly into your stiff fingers. Before you could pull away again, Izou stepped closer and guided your hand toward his waist, settling it lightly against the overlapping silk of his kimono.

Your heart stuttered almost to a stop, breath catching.

“Unless I’ve misunderstood your interest?”

His words were softer now, not quite unsure but still testing. As though he was waiting on you for an answer you’d yet to give.

“No,” you said, a little too fast and a little too honest. “I mean… that’s… thank you.”

You hesitated for a second before moving your hand properly. Your fingertips dragged lightly over the cool silk first, testing, before slipping beneath the edge of the fabric. The warmth of his skin startled you almost as much as the quiet breath Izou drew in. You immediately tried to move back but he caught your wrist before you could do so.

“Sorry,” you said. “I know it’s cold.”

“That’s why we’re doing this in the first place,” he said. “You already reach under my clothing all the time to touch my arms. I’m surprised this embarrasses you.”

A nervous chuckle slipped out before you could stop it. “This is very different to that.”

“Is it?”

You unfurled your fingers, pressing your hand gratefully against his warm side. You could feel his breathing beneath your palm, the steady rise and fall of his very well-muscled chest moving softly. Your heart stuttered dangerously hard in your chest but you managed to get yourself to breathe.

Izou leaned closer until his forehead rested lightly against yours. The gesture was so careful it made your chest ache. At some point, his free hand had found your other one too, fingers threading slowly through yours despite the cold still clinging to your skin.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The ship creaked softly around you and somewhere higher above, the sails shifted against the wind. Izou’s fingers remained loosely threaded with yours, steady and warm.

“I made a mistake,” he admitted. “Two, if only one that I truly regret.”

“What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have given you those gloves,” he said. “I thought they would help you stay warm but failed to realise you would seek me out less in return.”

You smiled at that. “They were very nice gloves though. I liked them a lot.”

“I noticed that today. I’m considering returning them but I’ll only do so if you promise that you’ll continue to come to me when you’re cold.”

“Wait, you took them?”

“I thought that would be obvious.”

You huffed, unable to find space in your heart for any emotion other than relief. “Izou, that’s terrible. I was worried sick.”

“And I’m sorry for that but I don’t regret this outcome. Do you?” You laughed and tilted your chin a little closer to him. “Not at all.”

Marco the Phoenix | Polo Marco

Do not banish this man to the couch, he will end up in the infirmary and work through the entire night, and then you'll have an entirely different issue to deal with.

Just talk to him after you've cooled down enough and go to bed next to each other. He already doesn't sleep enough, getting banished to the couch is just another excuse for him to work.

Regardless, he's usually pretty agreeable so the only way he'd piss you off is when he's doing something dangerous that you're against or if he's not sleeping properly.

He always offers kisses and hugs in the morning after you make him sleep on the couch, if only to distract you from the fact that he hasn't slept.

Surgeon of Death | Trafalgar D. Water Law

No.

You're getting banished to high hell before you put this guy on the couch, not only because he's gonna chop you up for suggesting he fuck up his (already fucked up) posture, but also because the crew would absolutely rally behind him. Not to mention the strawhats, who seem to love sticking their noses where it doesn't belong.

He doesn't sleep well anyway, he hasn't slept properly since— ...Hm, where was I?

Anyway, he doesn't sleep well as is. He's so easy to startle awake and he gets nightmares during really bad bouts, the crew wants him to sleep at least 7 hours so the crew would veto you.

No couch. But you can ask Penguin and Shachi to serve bread for breakfast.

Izou

Izou is an honorable man... Not honorable enough to sacrifice his beauty sleep, but he is an honorable man. He'll at least give you a pillow and a blanket.

You could, theoretically, threaten to send him to the couch in a verbal argument. Unfortunately, he will be the one to lock you out of the bedroom during said argument.

He's also the one to open the bedroom late at night and sneak around trying to find you so he can carry you back to his quarters.

He's not afraid of admitting when he's wrong, and he hates going to bed angry so it's already rare you'll be locked out of the bedroom, but whenever you are, Izou is always quick to apologize for it the next morning.

Thatch

Yeah. You can banish this man to the couch. He will be absolutely miserable too. Also, the fourth division is going to knock on your door asking why he's sulking outside instead of sleeping in his quarters.

He will be sad, and whiny, and wet with rain and salt water from being outside. Do you really wanna deal with your man being a sad puppy?

He's a good man, you know. He's a good man. He makes mistakes, but he's a good man.

Also, please expect your favorite foods for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. The man loves cooking and he will apologize through a hearty meal. And perhaps a really shitty love song, make sure he doesn't embarrass himself. Make sure he doesn't even consider it. Don't let that man wax you poetry. Please. Have mercy on the rest of the crew.

Picking nervously at the hem of your shirt, you kept your head bowed and away from the man sitting parallel on the ground in front of you. The metre square table was all that was between you, ornate carvings pressed by hand into the surface to indicate battle amongst the cherry blossoms. War, death, beauty, and passion - the four words you would use in place to describe the ornate carvings, alongside every syllable to depict the gunslinging commander in front of you. 

“You're doing it again,” he offered you in a warning drawl, “Stop picking at your hemline, or there will be no shirt to shroud your body by the end of all of your fussing. Hands on the table, little flower.” Izou leaned over the centre of the table and took your hand away from your shirt with his own, placing it on the table beside your bamboo and silk placemat. As your eyes met his, you saw those four words within his warning gaze. 

War, death, beauty, and passion - those same four words were everything that was the man holding the moniker, Izou, in that one pointed look he aimed towards you. He was disciplining you with that single look, and you slowly found yourself sinking beneath his scolding stare. 

The man clad in a pink yukata slowly released your hand and moved back to sit on his knees. His gown slipped down his shoulder slightly to reveal the creamy, porcelain skin beneath the silken shroud, slowly rising a warm heat in the apples of your cheeks. He shrugged it back with a click of his tongue before scooping matcha powder in his bamboo spoon. Placing the spoon back down beside the bowl, Izou reached for the large, ceramic teapot filled with boiling water. 

“I wanted to give you this ceremony as a token of my appreciation to you,” he hummed casually, “Yet, all you've been doing is avoiding my eyes and picking at your shirt. It is unseemly, and you should be paying attention to a person when their performance is a gift to you.” You bobbed your head in confirmation before gazing at his hands. His every swishing motion was a dance, a ceremonial display of appreciation for tea, for water, and for you. 

“My apologies, commander,” you smile sheepishly at him, “It's not every day a former spade pirate is invited into a foreign commander’s chambers for a private performance. Especially not one as sovereign and titled as you.” Izou took a moment to sigh before ending it with a soft chuckle, shaking his head and slowly beginning to soften at the edges. 

“It's not every day a white beard commander invites a former foreign pirate, turned crewmate, into his chambers, yes,” he agreed with you, nodding his head before picking up the bamboo whisk, “But, then again, it is not every day any member of the white beard pirates earns a place at my table as a reward for feats of brilliance. You did good, little flower. I will not have you diminish your accomplishments.” 

A warmth flooded in your face while your eyes misted with embarrassment and humble pride. You managed to negotiate by yourself to make safe passage for the white beard fleet in an impossible situation, one that earned you crew respect and that same respect of the more reserved commander. It was one thing to have your doctor give you praise and a pat on the back, or your former captain cheering your name and crowing like a rooster into the air with a pyrotechnic display of flames, but it was another thing entirely to be invited into the chambers of Izou as he performed a skill he rarely demonstrated to others from his home country. 

“Not so brilliant, just luck,” you nodded with a small smile, “Caught the harbour master in a good mood-.”

“-Hush and watch your tone,” Izou sliced your words out of your lips and removed any further word from your lips, “You don't get to downplay your actions in settling something for our captain that we were struggling with, especially not while we're sharing in this ceremony together.” His brows knit in a tight line in the centre of his forehead before he slowly closed his eyes and leaned down towards the ceramic pot and powders, “You are far too smart for this attitude, and I will not have it at my table. I will not announce it again, so hold your tongue and take your gift.” Slowly and gently, the gunslinging commander pressed his bamboo spoon into a tin of green powder before gently compacting it in the concave crevice. Every action had a purpose, and you could see the softness amongst that hardened exterior in his facial features.

This was home to him: sharing a part of himself donned in ceremony in every action. His brows rose to a gentleness he was sharing with you as he slowly tipped the powder into the cup. Tapping the edge twice, and a third sharper time, he placed the spoon in a silken placemat beside the teacup and moved his hands in a dance-like fashion. Izou slowly extended his right hand, while the other moved back the sleeve of his yukata to reveal his wrists. His hands were marred in battle and controlled in every motion while slowly tipping scorched water from the teacup into the bowl.

Once the water and powder were married as one, Izou bowed and placed the teapot back in the centre of the table. His eyes closed while the aroma rose to fill his face and nasal passage. Everything was slow, soft, controlled, and with purpose. Even while reaching for the bamboo whisk once more, it was as simple as breathing, yet as mesmerizing as a dance to music you had never seen nor heard. 

Not a whisper was spoken between Izou frothing the water and tea powder and him placing the whisk upright on a ceramic tray to the left corner of the tea setting. He smiled down at it before again reaching for the water pot and pouring the water to the brim, again revealing his wrists to you. That same warmth crept up your face and settled in your cheeks while watching him perform a stationary dance in your honor. 

Izou finally placed the pot down at the centre of the table and reached his forefingers down at the base of the ceramic cup. Slowly moving them to form a triangular fixed position at the apex of the cup base, Izou bowed deeply towards you in the centre of the table. His hair fell softly in front of him, giving you a full view of down the back of his yukata and causing you to glimpse at his tattoo. 

Unsure of what to do, you mimic his actions as best as you could without practice to ceremony. Placing your hands in front of you, you slowly bow to return the gesture and keep your head low and eyes scrunched completely shut.

Slowly rising from his bow, Izou fought back a gasped hum that wanted desperately to escape his throat. You were bowing to him, sharing a respect you had no knowledge of, yet wanted so desperately to share in his action with him. This was a welcome surprise, and his heart began to slowly flutter and grow warm in witnessing you struggle to know when to rise from your low and respectful, seated stoop.

“You… Can rise now,” Izou smiled towards you, “You didn’t… Need to do that… But,” Izou waited for you to rise while continuing to smile gently towards you, “I am glad you did.” The man slowly reached for the ceramic teacup and spun the ceramic three times clockwise before raising it in both hands. He gently reached for you and nodded for you to take the cup from his hands. “While this is made similarly to the tea I have at home, I am, unfortunately, all out of leaf powder from my homeland,” his smile dimmed slightly, only rising as you took the cup from his hands and took it towards yourself, “The borders are shut, leaving my family barred from ever meeting my eyes again. This… This ceremony is my gift to you, little flower. I hope the tea is to your liking.”

“Commander-.” “-Izou,” he corrected you immediately and sharply, “While in my quarters as my guest, I am simply… Iz-... I-...” Izou coughed to clear his throat, clenching his eyes shut and swallowing thickly. You quickly placed the tea off to the side and rose from the table without drinking. Izou continued to cough without stopping, turning his face away and holding his throat. His yukata slipped and disheveled him, revealing the tattoo on his back and giving you ample room to pat on his back hard to dislodge what was causing him harm. 

Izou refused to rise from the table, slowly glancing around at the compartments of the kit until he located the mortar and pestle filled with fine powder. He shrugged off your hands and reached for the stone bowl. His coughing settled, only prolonging your shock while he gazed down with unspeakable horror on his face. 

“This…” Izou shook in a shuddered breath as he turned to face you. His eyes scanned your face before he looked at the tea in shock, “Did you taste or inhale the tea?” You looked at the cup before turning your attention back towards him. You shook your head ‘no’ before he nodded and gulped thickly. “I… I have… You need to get Marco for me. I…” Izou attempted to place his pink yukata back on his shoulders, but winced as if the material stung him. He leaned in and clasped the ceramic kettle of water and immediately poured the scorching heat on his hands. Hissing at the pain, he wet both before pulling himself away from the table. 

“Izou?” you furrowed your brows and nodded in desperation towards him, “Izou, what’s going on? I need to know before I get Marco for you. Can you tell me what’s going on? I can help you, just give me a run down.”

“I-...” he gulped before doubling over in pain, pushing himself away from the table and accidentally falling back onto his futon. Pain scrunched his eyes shut while sweat beaded at his temple, falling in a deep caress down the corner of his cheek and down the apex of his jawline. He began panting as if every breath stung him. Every inhale was burdened with labouring gasps that sounded as if he was aching worse than the sting of boiled water. 

“Izou-?”

“-The tea,” he gasped towards you, “The powder when I ground it down into powder. I-... It’s from the island we visited prior. The one… With the idols of lust… Mnngh-!” He peeled the corner of his yukata off his arm and settled it around his waist, “They said it was for relaxation and special occasions.” He moved his hands covered in the wrist-slits of his robe to settle in the center of his waist and covered his crotch. As soon as his covered palms hit his shrouded crotch, he doubled over and wailed out, “They and I have a very different idea of relaxation!” 

Dawning on your face with your eyes meeting his crotch and back up to his eyes again, you immediately felt the need to scold your commander for his actions. Holding your tongue, you shook your head and glanced down once more at the painful peak tenting his crotch. Pulsating beneath his robes, the usually reserved commander was now moaning as if in the most delirious pain and most delicious pleasure he had ever experienced before.

“Did you just get it on your hands, commander?” you asked him firmly, “And when you had inhaled it while foaming the tea, I mean.” You immediately rose to stand and close the distance between Izou and the door to his quarters, locking it behind you with you inside. He gasped and you heard the whimpered, ‘yes’, alongside the rustling of materials. “Commander, Ace encountered that the last time we’d visited the island and we had to resort to… Extreme measures… To get it out of his system. Do you remember, sir?” 

“Yes,” he hissed before more rustling occurred behind you, “And for all that timidity earlier, you have-, mghgn-! Fuck-!” Izou whined out before the rustling crew in further intensity, “You have changed your tune, haven’t you?” He managed to snicker at you before letting out a sound somewhere between a sob and a moan, “I d-didn’t expect it to be the same thing…” 

“Commander,” you firmed your voice, “Did you not expect a tealeaf for ‘special occasions’ and ‘relaxation’ from a culture where lust as their god to have some of that potent pollen in their habitual products?” You turned to face him, steeling your face in a firm line, “And I have changed my tune to match the severity of your circumstances. It’s not every day my commander inhales and grinds his own aphrodisiacs, sir. I am simply matching pitch.” 

“Such a spade-pirate still,” Izou gasped out a laugh, hanging his head on his shoulders and gasping out a small puff of lust while his yukata lay beside him. His slender cock was in his hands, pre-cum beading at the slit and coating his thumb in slick baring no relief. 

“My former captain, now reporting commander, burdened himself with me for a long time, sir,” you shook your head and slowly approached Izou as he lay on his bedding, “And now you are about to experience the delirium that comes from that powder-, Izou-!” You were swiftly made agitated by the full picture of Izou’s back to you as he hid his face from you. You softened your voice and leaned down towards him, reaching your hand forward but holding it back, “Izou, can I touch you?” 

“I can’t have you see me like this, little flower,” Izou’s shaky breath poured out to you, “This was… I know better than this. I am better than this. I should-... I-... All I wanted was to do was appreciate you. You deserve to be appreciated…” The dark hair atop his head slowly came loose and waterfalled down his back in rippled waves of loose strands. The action of his hand against himself was sinful, something you knew to avert your eyes from and give him privacy in any other given circumstances. 

But this was an emergency.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, you slowly gained his attention with a gentle squeeze to his muscle. Izou stopped pumping along his length and sucked in a shaken breath. It took everything in himself to halt his motions while his body screamed at him to continue. His cock was achingly hard, his balls tight against his belly, and his gut curdling with a lust he had never known prior like this. All the while you were there to walk him through it as softly and gently as you could. 

“Do you remember what had to happen with Ace, Izou?” you asked him softly, “Where we had to-... Aid the pollen to run its course through extracting it within the body of another?” Izou tensed up and nodded while still avoiding your eyes. “I think we need to do that for you too, sir.” You removed your hand from his skin and slowly tugged the shirt from your body, followed by your pants and panties. He continued to avoid your eyes while you returned to his side and lay beside him. 

It was fate’s cruel trick to give you, you were certain of it. The way you held such high regard and a large affection for Izou was a cruelty given the current circumstances. He was someone you wanted to impress, to earn the praise of, and the man of your dreams that you were trying so hard to be subtle about liking. Ace gave you hell for it, Marco gave you a smile and advice about it, Whitebeard approved of it - but in your heart, you still felt like the commander that held it was keeping you at arms length. 

Steadying your breath and stifling the sorrow beginning to bubble in your throat, you again tapped his shoulder to return his attention to you. You gulped back a shaken breath before offering the one thing you knew could cure him. 

“I… I may not be the best person for this job, but I’m the only one available at the moment to you. You…” your lip quivered and brows furrowed at the center, only causing you to give into the emotion you feared would pool over the surface and reveal it’s ugly head, “...You can just pretend I’m someone beautiful. Someone you want to be with. It’s okay, commander. It’s the only way we can cure you of this, remember? Just pretend I’m the person you want, and it will be over quickly. Please.” 

Izou’s body turned in an instant. The sharp and striking features of Izou loomed over you while his hands clasped around your wrists and knees and toes pinned your thighs beneath him. His look was of a violent rage, his eyes wild and accusatory. Izou’s painted lips curled into a harsh grimace as he snarled down at you.

“Why would I pretend you’re anyone you’re not when I want only you?” he spat down harshly. His eyes softened at the edges before his palm came up and pressed against your cheek, soothing over your features while he peered down at you with love, “I only want you. You have to know that I do, little flower. Can’t you see?” Izou leaned down and brushed his nose with yours, “I’ve loved you from the beginning. I just… Wish this was under different circumstances and not… If we don’t, my heart will give out.” 

Your eyes darted between his before you struck an uncharacteristically brave nerve in your core while leaning up and kissing him. Izou reciprocated immediately by removing his hand from your wrist and bracing both arms behind your head and and cradled you into himself. Both of you whimpered into the kiss while deepening it in every breath. He took your world and made it his with a simple touch, igniting your belly with a thirst that needed to be quenched. Your core throbbed while you attempted to spread your legs around the position he pinned you in. 

The braveness melted into courage when you flipped him on his back. You reached down between your bodies and found his cock with ease. He was large in your hand, only getting larger and more desperate as you pumped along his length. Your cunt slowly fluttered while arousal glistened along your walls. His kiss was deep enough to almost make you climax then and there, just from the deep complexity he molded your lips into. Everything was both ceremonious alongside a feral edge he worked so hard to control. 

Unbreaking the deep kiss, you ensured his body moved where you moved him. You slid his cock between your folds a few times to coat his tip in your slick while both hissing at the contact. He groaned in short, huffed breaths while you placed his tip inside your core and began slowly sinking down on it. His hands moved from around your neck to caress the curvature of your body down towards your ass while your own hands moved beside his head. 

“I’ve loved you for the longest time, commander,” you confessed in return while sinking down his cock further. You hissed at the mild sting around your ring of muscle, prompting Izou to help you remain stationary by not moving anything. He pressed a flurry of quick kisses against your cheek, jaw, and neck while you focussed on taking his entire length into your body. Finally sinking down with his entire cock inside you, you remained stationary while turning your head to look at him. 

Izou was in turmoil. His inky hair was coated in a sheen of sweat while his pupils were black with lust. Despite the potency of the pollen igniting his veins, Izou’s sheer willpower stopped his body from bucking up wildly into you. His hands gripped both sides of your ass and held you stationary while he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I love you so much,” he returned your affection and sealed it with a soft kiss to your lips before retreating back, “That is why I’m so harsh on you. I want you to be the-... fuck… Best version of yourself. I want t-to watch y-ou thrive-! Oh seas-!” Izou threw his head back while his body finally broke through the iron will that held it stationary. 

The commander’s hands gripped your ass and began rocking you down hard against himself. He refused to allow too much of his length to exit you, keeping your core flush with his own and grinding your clit on his soft pubic hair. You whined out in shock while he slowly removed an inch before slamming you back down on it once more. Izou planted his feet before moving his arms back and bracing them around your mid section; finally moving his cock out until the tip remained inside you before slamming it back harshly into you. It was slow, intentional, and deliberate in the beginning.

All before the pollen did what it does best…

…And remove your commander of all of his composure. 

You had never pegged Izou as a feral man in the bedroom. He always seemed to be one to be in charge and in control. In all of your fantasies about him, that’s what he was. The words ‘little flower’ spoke softly to you in your mind's eye while he aided you to fall apart in every way he knew how. Hands, lips, tongue, toys, even the air around you was manipulated by Izou in your dreams. This was not so controlled, but it was not any less beautiful. Especially with Izou rutting into you and growling your name in your ear that shot vibrations to your clit and spilled more of your arousal from your slit and onto his crotch. 

“W-Wait-!” you whimpered to no avail, “Sh-shit.” Your body shook while Izou rippled your ass with every harsh thud upwards. His cock drove into your belly and kissed at the back of your g-spot, causing you to throw your head back and yelp at the momentum. Where you assumed a man of Izou’s caliber would treat treat sex as an art form, as an act of love making with another’s body - this was nowhere near that level of refined decorum. 

Izou was fucking you. Not handling you with care, but fucking you deeply and harshly while chasing a high inside your body that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried.

“Wanted this moment to be different,” he barked between harsh claps of his hips meeting yours, “Wanted to court you first. Love you first.” Izou whimpered as his cock pulsated inside your body and swelled every vein rippling towards his tip. He was closer now than he had ever been to spilling himself up inside you, but it was no more a spill than it was him loving you. “I’m going to cum-! You’re-! Just stay like that. Just like that. Can I-?!” Izou tilted his head to find your face with his. His vibrant eyes bore into yours with a dark intensity. There was love lingering beneath the lust, showcased in the way he held off until you gave your permission. 

“Cum for me, commander,” you whimpered down into him, “You can cum, Izou. I want you to.” Izou darted his eyes between yours before clenching them tightly shut and throwing his head back once more. He filled your body like a shot of lightning, hitting your cervix with his viscous splashback and painting your bellies with how fast he released. At the sight of his creamy neck and that tremble of his pulse ignited in his vein, you leaned down and clenched your teeth and lips around his pulsepoint. 

Pleasure was found empathetically as his orgasm set yours alight with its spark. Pleasure engulfed your senses while you screamed into his neck. Izou slowed his movements, but kept them hard and harsh. Every thud of your skin meeting his was in time with the waves of your pleasure joining with his own. He was timing your bliss with his own while the pollen slowly left his body through releasing the tension and tight coils in his belly. 

Izou aided you down into his embrace by cradling your head in his neck. Your lips were still latched to his skin, sucking a harsh, purple mark into his neck as a trophy of your love. He chuckled and caressed the back of your head while you began sobbing after returning to the world around you. 

“I don’t think I’ve-... I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard before,” Izou gasped, prompting you to nod in agreement. 

“I haven’t cum like that ever,” you admitted with a laugh, moving back from his embrace to gaze down at him, “I usually need a little more stimulation than that to get there, especially on my clit-... You don’t need to know this, sir.” You quieted yourself and allowed embarrassment to slowly wash over you while you attempted to pull away from him. Izou frowned and hummed down at you in disappointment, clapping his hands on your ass and holding you stationary. 

“Of course I need to know this, little flower,” Izou whispered gently to you, “I want to know how to please my woman and what she likes. Especially after this…” The commander slowly caressed your ass and tilted his head. He smiled softly up at you and nodded, “You… Are mine, yes? If you’ll have me, I mean… You don’t have to be…” 

Bashful. 

Izou was bashful.

And you felt your heart melt while he began to avoid your eyes in search of anything else to fixate on. You reached down and claimed his cheeks in your palms, tilting his eyes back to meet yours and nodded down at him.

“I’ll only have you if you only correct me on my fidgeting in private, and not try to accidentally poison me with a lust flower,” you giggled at him, stroking the apple of his cheek with your thumb, “Those are my only conditions-, w-well, alongside exclusivity, I mean…” You mumbled and turned your head away from him, fighting your own bashfulness and sucking in your bottom lip to bite it. 

“Why would I want anyone else?” he answered sincerely. Izou reached up and fiddled with the nape of your neck while beaming a gentle grin up at you, “And I promise: no more experimental teas with aphrodisiacs for ‘relaxation’ and ‘special occasions’.” You both chuckled at the statement before rolling onto your sides and marvelling at one another. Learning his skin with your fingertips, and he with yours, Izou and you shared soft smiles and gentleness in his quarters until he deemed it time to rejoin the others hand in hand after cleaning one another up.

The love was old, but the feelings were new. Thankfully, you had one another to help you navigate the new horizons your love would take you - sans pollen this time. 

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @mermaniaa @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel @thesunxwentblack @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @yujo-nishimura @sunnyferr @floufli @pumpk1nn-patch @artemis162534 @mayhem-toez-64 @hellkaiserinphoenix @starchild-unnamed

"It was a beautiful country. Lush forests, pristine rivers, air so fresh you could get drunk on it." His smile carried a hint of sadness when he continued, "The snowy hills of Ringo weren't very kind to me and my sister when we were young, but even I couldn't deny their beauty."

Izou never shared much about his childhood or his hometown, so you leaned in, clinging to his every word. You couldn't help but notice how the longing in his eyes for the home he left so many years ago grew ever so stronger as the ship inched closer to Wano.

Once Izou started talking, he found it surprisingly difficult to stop. He talked about his days with Oden and his band of retainers in Kuri, about the stunning fireworks launched to the skies every summer, about the countless delicacies that "you simply must try".

The way his face lit up when he talked about the Harvest Moon Festival — which he claimed was his and his sister's favorite night of the year — was unlike any expression he had ever shown you before.

"Marco and I talked all the time about returning to Wano ever since we learned about Oden's death. Pops never let us go."

You squeezed his hand gently, hoping to offer him some comfort, but the long-haired man just sighed. "I know he was right. Back then, it wasn't the time yet to retake Wano. But now is our chance.”

“Our allies are strong." You reassured him. "We'll defeat Kaido, and help your hometown flourish again the way it used to."

With a nudge to his shoulder, you added, "And then you have to take me to that moon festival you loved so much."

The corners of Izou's lips turned up, just a touch. "That sounds nice."

"Oi, you two!" Cat Viper's shout interrupted you, booming from the opposite end of the ship. "We need to secure the rigging! We'll reach the waterfalls soon."

You took a deep breath, pushing away from the railing and turning your body to face the gunslinging samurai.

"You ready to come home?"

Izou held your gaze, and with his eyes, he silently told you how grateful he was that you decided to come with him — to stay by his side — despite the dangers awaiting you all at Wano.

He smiled, and brought the back of your hand up to his lips.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

a/n: this one's not a request but i wanted to write something for izou's birthday (i'm a day late but shhhhh pretend i uploaded this on time)

⟢ chibinasuu's flufftober – event page || masterlist

“How are you feeling?” Izou asked, his hands leaving your shoulders and seeking your own under the water. He twined your fingers between his, bringing your hand up to his face to kiss the back tenderly. You hummed lightly, your head rolling against his chest.

“Wonderful. Thank you for taking such good care of me, I can never rep-” Izou halted your statement by gently biting your earlobe.

“Don’t finish that sentence or I’ll take it as an affront,” Izou said teasingly, though he knew you had been serious. “An Omega never needs to repay her Alpha for care during heat. It was my immense pleasure that you selected me as yours,” he murmured, intentionally using vague language. He wanted to remain yours, but the chance for that conversation hadn't come up yet. You stiffened slightly and didn’t respond, casting your gaze out the window.

It was common for Omegas and Alphas to part ways after a heat, but he was hoping that this experience would catalyze into a serious relationship between you. Yes, you’d been sharing a room and cavorting about at night before then, but he wanted things to be official.

Especially since he’d been called to talk to Pops. Izou wasn’t delusional, he knew it was about his unprovoked aggression towards Ace. He didn’t think that Ace or Thatch tattled, but the very ship itself seemed to thrive on gossip. Pops must have found out, and he would have to answer for his behavior. True, they were pirates, but even pirates had rules for conduct. And Alphas couldn’t fight over unclaimed Omegas on the ship. But if there was some way for him to claim you, maybe things could work out between you…

“I have to leave soon, unfortunately our honeymoon is nearly over,” Izou continued, undeterred by your tense shoulders. “Should you need anything, please let any one in my division know,” he murmured, planting another kiss to the top of your head. Your posture softened as you leaned back into him once more.

“Or Thatch?” you asked, pulling your entwined arms around your chest. Izou brought his other arm around you as well, embracing you from behind.

“You are not working today. Therefore you will not see Thatch outside of meal time, correct?” Izou growled into your ear. Your heat had ended but you were still tired and sore. There would be plenty of time for working later. You hummed but didn’t answer. 

Izou removed his hand from your own and slid it upwards, his other hand joining to cup your breasts and roll your nipples gently between his fingers. You whined and shifted in his hold, your breasts tender after so much attention from him over the previous few days. He rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering in your ear as he knew you liked.

“How can you think of working when you’re so sore and tired, hm? Wouldn’t it be better to rest and go back to the kitchens tomorrow?” he murmured silkily, his words punctuated by his lips touching the very outer shell of your ear. “Little Omega can’t even take my hands in the bath, how can you expect to be on your feet for hours?” he continued, massaging your breasts and letting go of your nipples. 

“M-maybe you’re right. Do you think - will they be mad?” you asked, now turning around to face him. Izou wound his arms around your back, pulling you closer, a smile on his unpainted face. Even now, after days of sexual encounters, you made his cock stir with desire.

“No, they won’t be mad. They know you’re busy,” he said as a flush rose over your cheekbones. Even after everything you’d done together, you were still so charmingly  bashful. Izou’s large, elegant fingers crawled up your back, cupping the back of your neck.

“We still have a little bit of time. Let’s keep you busy,” Izou said before pulling you in for a deep kiss. You angled your head and twined your arms around his neck, happily sighing as the two of you enjoyed the last bit of time together.

A few hours later, Izou left his room once again, dressed properly for the first time in days. He had attended to you a few more times without the rush of heat behind his motions. There would be no knots now that you weren’t in heat and he wasn’t claiming you. There had been only tender, sweet joining of bodies. He’d tried to express his admiration and love for you through his movements, through his long languid strokes, through the deep kisses he gave you while inside you. He hoped you felt the depth of his emotions for you, rather than just his words. 

His mind returned to the conversation you’d had with him during your heat, when you were so far gone that you thought you were still back on that terrible winter island. Your confession during heat had broken his heart more than he could relay to you. He wanted to tell you that you meant everything to him, that he did want to claim you, that you wouldn’t be lonely and sad for the rest of your days. But he couldn’t make that promise yet, he would have to talk to Whitebeard first. And he already had suspicions about what Pops would say.

Izou also didn’t want to address it with you since you thought he was only a figment of your imagination at the time you’d spilled your inner thoughts. It was something deep in your mind, something that you likely wouldn’t have wanted to admit to him. His thoughts kept returning to your pitiful statements, how you yearned for love and affection, how you dreamed of mattering to someone, to him. His jaw set as he remembered your final words he brought you to bliss once again - how imagining a life with him made it harder to live in reality. 

He could relate.

If Izou admitted it to himself, he’d always been envious of his brothers who found partners and love easily. He acted like he didn’t care, but life was lonely on the seas, particularly after he parted from Oden. He missed his country, his hometown, his sister, and his former Shogun. Izou didn’t use you as a replacement, but you were helping heal his heart. He hadn’t even noticed how lonely he was until you’d come along, plucking him out of the gloom he’d unknowingly sank into. 

During your heat, Izou’s mind had been muddled with his own hormones and physical urges. Now that it had abated, Izou’s thoughts kept returning to one central theme - what would he do if Pops said you had to leave? Izou wouldn’t make any rash decisions, he wanted to see what the Captain said first. He loved his brothers and fellow crew – they were truly his family. But the thought of parting from you was so devastating, so horrible, that he couldn’t fathom making that choice either. Izou tried to push the train of thought from his mind; he didn’t want to worry over possibilities.

Pops was in his private rooms, for which Izou was thankful. He would meet with Pops wherever was convenient for the aged Captain, and take his lumps there. Still, he was glad there would be a modicum of privacy for the conversation, even if Pops’ booming voice meant that some of the conversation would be heard beyond the door. Izou knocked on the enormous door and entered, familiar with the way Pops conducted meetings. Izou slipped his hands into his sleeves, trying to keep himself centered for what was likely to be an unpleasant conversation. 

“Izou,” Pops boomed in greeting. Izou inclined his head, already feeling guilty. Pops had a way about him, he was able to express his disappointment without yelling or making a scene. Izou already felt his back muscles tightening in anticipation of bowing, and Pops hadn’t even said anything yet. 

“How may I serve you, Captain?” Izou began formally, tucking his hands into his sleeves. On the rare occasions Izou was stressed or unsure, he often reverted to his training from his early life, which was much more stiff and formal than anything Whitebeard had ever cared for.

“Is Tasuke through her heat?” the grizzled man rumbled.

“She is.”

“And she’s doin’ well? You too?” 

“Yes, thank you Captain,” Izou replied, bowing deeply. He was grateful for the time Whitebeard had allowed him to take away from his responsibilities. Whitebeard had many reasons unattached Omegas weren’t allowed on board. Izou wasn’t sure why Whitebeard had made an exception for you for so long, but he was thankful nonetheless.

“Y’can’t keep ‘er here anymore. Not like that,” Whitebeard said, softer than Izou was expecting. Izou stood up, his back stiff and straight. A cold sweat broke out on Izou’s forehead as his worst fears were realized.

“Yes, Captain,” Izou said, blinking slowly. He understood – logically it made the most sense – but it was difficult hearing the words come from his Captain.

“Y’know the rules about unclaimed omegas. Never ends well. This one’s nice though, not much smell to make everyone fight too much. Like ‘er food too,” Whitebeard mused, rolling the tip of his mustache between his fingers. Izou bowed once more, steeling himself for the conversation that would follow with you. He would have to figure out where to send you, he didn’t want to abandon you only for you to be abused again. Perhaps he could contact a fleet crew, someone reliable. He could follow shortly thereafter, once he found a replacement for his Commander position. Maybe Whitey would take you….

“And I heard you ‘n Ace got into it,” Pops grunted. Izou nodded, he would never lie to his Captain or try to cover up his own bad behavior.

“Yes. I lunged at him with malicious intent. Luckily, Thatch intervened,” Izou explained,  though his thoughts were still on what he could do to keep you safe while he figured out how to join you.

“Did Ace say something t’ya?” Pops asked, crossing one leg over his knee. Based on his many years with the Captain, Izou knew Pops had already heard the whole story. 

“He did, but it was rather innocuous. It wasn’t acceptable to fight him over something so minor. I was in rut but that doesn’t excuse my behavior,” Izou explained.

“Marco talked to him, explained how to act. I don’t tolerate in-fighting, but he’s an Alpha himself, he shoulda known better. Anyone woulda done the same,” Pops said with a toss of his head.

“Thank you Captain. I will - I will figure out where to take her. If you could let her remain until the next-”

“Y’could claim ‘er,” Whitebeard said, interrupting Izou’s line of thinking. Izou said nothing, his mind reeling from his Captain’s words as his world tilted on its axis. It was silent between the two men for several moments until Izou cleared his throat to began speaking.

“If that is your-”

“Ah, come off it boy. I know yer troubles, been hearing about it for years,” Whitebeard said with a scoff. Izou hid a smile, his Captain was the only person who could call him that and live to tell the tale. It was better than being called brat, which is what Marco and Thatch got from the Captain. 

“I’ve never complained-”

“Yer brothers do it enough for you,” Whitebeard replied, pulling a hidden flask from somewhere in his lounge chair and opening it. Marco confiscated all the booze he could find, but the old man kept finding ways to secret away more. 

“Why are you making an exception for me?” Izou asked, unsure why the Captain would suddenly bend his iron fast rules. Whitebeard took a long drag from his flask and grunted.

“Getting older, more sentimental. Wishing some things in my life were different. No regrets, just…different,” Whitebeard said, his gaze unfocused as he stared out at sea. Izou wondered who Pops was thinking of at that moment, someone who could have stolen the heart of an Emperor and vanished. Izou didn’t ask any questions; everyone was entitled to their memories.

“Anyway, you can claim ‘er ‘n keep ‘er here. Won’t cause fighting, at any rate,” Whitebeard said, still not entirely back in the present. 

“Thank you, Pops,” Izou said, bowing perpendicular to the floor.

“You’re welcome, boy,” Whitebeard said, his leathery face crinkling with a smile.

Unfortunately, Izou couldn’t return to you immediately. He had missed several days of work. He needed to be updated on what was happening in his Division by his direct reports, and handle anything that needed his personal approval. He thanked his division profusely for handling affairs so well in his absence; they had done a marvelous job. Even so, there were several items waiting for his attention and Izou couldn’t put them off. So even though he yearned to return to you, he worked diligently until long after nightfall. 

Izou stifled a yawn as he entered his rooms, looking for you in the darkened room. His brows hitched as he entered silently, you weren’t sleeping in his bed. He peeked into the bathroom and you weren’t there either. Where could you be so late at night? 

Izou grabbed a thick outer jacket for the cold night air before he left his rooms in search of you. The ship was entering a region full of winter islands, ones not so unlike the one he’d found you on. 

After searching the kitchens and thankfully not finding you working there, Izou headed towards another one of your favorite spots. His feet quickly took him to the bow of the ship, to the farthest spot someone could easily stand. He smelled you before he saw you, the scent of winter frost hitting his nose among the salty ocean spray. 

You faced the bow as the ship sliced through the dark waters, ocean spray occasionally splashing against your face. Your eyes were distant as your fingers clutched at your thin jacket – one of the only belongings you’d brought with you from your island. Izou frowned, that jacket wasn’t warm enough for the now frigid weather. Your face was reddened from the frosty wind, your garments and hair blowing in the night wind. 

Coming up behind you silently, Izou pulled you against his chest, wrapping his own jacket around your form. You didn’t even spare him a glance, deep into your contemplation, though you allowed him to move your body. You were freezing, your hands like ice as he tried to warm you. Izou settled his chin on your head as the two of you stared off into the night, his arm wrapped around your middle. 

“What are you searching for, little Omega?” Izou asked, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“My next island,” you replied without a moment’s hesitation. Izou straightened his spine immediately, alarms going off in his head. He removed his arm from around you and tried to turn you to face him, but you were now unmoving.

“What do you mean your next island?” he asked, his heart beating a tattoo in his chest.

“I can’t stay here any longer. It’s alright, I knew this day would come. We’re entering a set of winter islands, no? I think I’d like to live somewhere cold, like I’m used to. I was hoping to see one in the distance, maybe select one that would be suitable,” you explained. 

“I - you can-” For once, Izou’s words didn’t come smoothly. He felt like his brain was lagging, like he couldn’t speak fast enough. He took a deep breath, he wanted to make sure he said this the right way.

“Look at me,” Izou commanded you, using more formal language. He hadn’t ever used those language markers before with you, but wanted you to understand that he was serious. You did as he commanded, turning your body to face him. Your eyes were starting to wet with tears as you waited for him to speak.

“I have permission from Captain Whitebeard to claim you,” Izou said. But you didn’t smile or embrace him as he expected. Instead you sniffled and rubbed your eye.  You still didn’t answer, turning your face back to look at the endless churning sea.

“I wish to claim you,” Izou said in a whisper, gently taking your hand and bringing it to his face. He kissed your knuckles gently as your lip wobbled but you didn’t reply. Izou’s blood froze as cold as the ice forming on the deck.

“Do you not wish to be my mate?” he asked quietly as tears started tracking down your face. You finally broke your silence to answer, but wouldn’t look him in the face.

“It is not about what I want,” you said slowly, removing your hand from his own to wipe at your face.

“Then why-”

“It cannot w-work between us. F-find another to claim,” you declared, your voice shaking despite your determination. 

“I do not desire another. Only you. Why will you not join with me?” Izou probed gently, taken aback by your refusal. He had expected you to be overjoyed rather than the overt dismissal you were giving him. Something wasn’t right and he would uncover what it was, you were too precious for him to lose so suddenly. You were silent for a few moments before speaking, your voice nearly lost to the winter winds whipping through the air.

“Alphas will say anything d-during heat. I know your sweet words didn’t mean anything. You were just con-consoling me,” you murmured, your breath hitching.  

“I do not say things I do not mean. Why will you not accept my claim?” Izou implored, gripping your chin in his fingers. You tried to turn your face to dislodge him, but he wasn’t allowing such a thing. He had been so sure you were interested in being his given your admission, had he been wrong? You were silent a few moments, sniffling quietly before answering.

“Someone like you cannot be with someone like me,” you replied in your usual quiet tone. You continued before he had a chance to ask you what you meant. 

“You are a Commander to an Emperor, former retainer to Kozuki Oden. I am nothing, bred from nothing, and I will return to nothing. I will not tie you to me.”

“I do not agree-”

“For someone like you to - to choose me is not…is not acceptable. I do not want your claim out of p-pity,” you said firmly, though you stumbled over your words.

“You do not have it,” Izou said softly, trying to catch your gaze. He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers due to some misunderstanding or miscommunication. You gave up trying to avoid eye contact and returned his stare, your teary eyes already puffy. 

“Of course I felt bad for you when we met - it was difficult to watch the circumstances of your life. But I do not pity you. I do not tie myself to you out of a sense of charity. I want to bind us because I want you with me. Forever. I cannot imagine a life without you. I was ready to leave the service of the Emperor to keep you in my arms. I want to claim you. Let me claim you, sweet Omega. You’ll never have to be sad or hurt or lonely ever again,” he said softly, his words echoing what you’d said to him while you were in heat. 

Your breath hitched and your lower lip wobbled again as you pressed your face against his chest. Izou wrapped his arms around you, your smaller body shaking against his own. It wasn’t fair to use your private fantasies against you, but Izou couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. He needed you like you needed him and your low self worth wasn’t going to come in between you.

“I d-don’t - I want - p-please-” you struggled to put a sentence together, too overwhelmed by his soft words. 

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. You are the only Omega I have ever wanted. It is not just your scent or body that compels me, I enjoy your company like no one I’ve ever met. I yearn for you when we are apart and thrive when we are together. I need you. I love you. Please, stay with me,” Izou said softly, leaning down to press your foreheads together. He would never force you to be claimed against your will, no matter how desperately his Alpha side was clawing at him. But desperation drove him as you wavered in your conviction.

“I - I want-” you were crying harder now, your tears soaking through his robe under the thick jacket. Snow began falling, the large snowflakes accumulating in your hair and on your clothes like diamonds from heaven.

“Please, little Omega. Please,” Izou pleaded, hoping you’d hear his words. He’d never begged before, not even when his life had been on the line. And yet he would beg for you in front of the entire crew if he had to. If you refused him now, he would take your answer seriously.

You looked up at him, your eyes trained on his face. He couldn’t read your expression, but you still hadn’t replied to his supplication. You clasped your little hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Izou leaned down, preparing himself for a goodbye kiss. The Alpha in him roared to steal you away, to lock you in his room and claim you as was his right. But the man knew better - if you wanted to live independently, he would respect your wishes. Dreaming of someone in times of desperation and actually being together were two separate things. And dreams were sometimes better than reality. 

Izou quieted his mind, trying to preserve everything about this moment. Your skin in the moonlight, the snow drifting across your hair, your scent mixing with the cold night air, your lovely face turned up in anticipation of what would be your last kiss. Izou had loved and lost many people in his life. At least he would be able to have closure from your goodbye. He was heartbroken, but prepared as your cold nose brushed against his own.

Which was why despite being a trained fighter of many years and proficient in two types of haki, Izou jerked in surprise as you grabbed him roughly and sank your teeth into his scent glands. You bore down harder with each passing second, your dull teeth puncturing his skin enough to draw bloof. He moaned, the sensation so erotic that he couldn’t contain himself despite being in a public space. Izou could have cried with relief at your acceptance of his claim, your bite the precursor to his own. The only thing now on his mind was the driving urge to claim you, to bite you, to drive himself into you over and over until his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

Izou picked you up as you worried his skin between your teeth, his cock growing impossibly harder with every passing moment. You wrapped your legs around him, your mouth never leaving his scent gland as he practically ran with you back to his quarters. You hadn’t let go of his skin for a moment, your possessive claim only making his blood run hotter. 

Izou wasn’t sure if he passed by any of his brothers or crew members – everything was a blur as he felt you kissing and lapping at the open claiming bite on his neck. Izou barely had the self control to keep from kicking in his own door, opening it forcefully before striding over to his bed. Izou set you down, your teeth leaving his neck as you settled back against the bed. You pulled him towards you, his blood painting your mouth as you kissed him deeply. He tasted the coppery tang of his own blood as your tongues entwined, your hand tangling in his long hair.

Izou broke the kiss to throw off his jacket, both of your clothes following suit seconds later as he ripped them off you. He felt the fine silk shredding under his fingers, but he couldn’t be bothered to give it a second thought. In moments you were naked under him, your body still bearing the marks of your heat. He covered your body with his own, your thighs spreading as you wrapped your legs around his slim waist. Izou took a breath, wanting to have your full consent before doing something irreversible.

“There’s no going back,” Izou said, closing his eyes to retain some semblance of control. “Once I claim you, you’re mine.” You growled at him, causing his eyebrows to hitch slightly.

“And you will be mine,” you declared, gripping him tighter with your legs. Izou nearly laughed at your sweet display of aggression. You didn’t need to ward off any potential rivals. No one had ever come close to his level of desire for you. 

“Always,” he affirmed, sealing his devotion with a kiss. Your slick was potent in the air, your body already preparing you for the claiming. His incisors elongated and his cock throbbed with the need to be inside you. Izou parted your folds with one hand and lined himself up. Grabbing your hair, he turned your head to the side against his mattress and ghosted his teeth over your scent glands, making you squirm in his hold. 

“Please, Alpha,” you whined, your hips shifting in an effort to get closer to him. Izou’s grip on your hair tightened. Something primal in him needed your complete submission, for you to take everything he gave you. A claiming knot was forming at the base of his cock, slightly different than the ones he formed during your heat. This one was larger and would take longer to recede, giving your mating bond time to form.

Izou sheathed himself in you in one long, slow motion, pulling a loud moan from your reddened lips. A hiss left him when your wet walls squeezed his cock in an almost mind-numbingly tight grip. He quickly built a rhythm that had you arching your back beneath him, your heels digging into his back to spur him on. He adjusted your body, capturing your wrists overhead in one of his hands while the other remained tangled in your hair. He pumped into you as you keened, your slick cunt driving him to madness.

“Please, I-Izou. I’m c-close,” you whimpered, your broken pleas igniting his need to claim you. Izou’s fist tightened, pulling your head further to the side, clearing the way for his bite. He roared before he sank his teeth into your scent glands. Warm blood spilled into his mouth as he bit harder, marking you forever as his mate. 

As he tasted your blood on his tongue, you screamed his name, your cunt pulsing around him. Izou took the opportunity to push his knot into you, your orgasm stealing some of the pain of the claiming. Your legs tightened around him as your eyes shut, your mouth opening and closing without sound as your bliss continued. Your pleasure triggered his own, his seed spilling deep in your womb as his knot locked you together. 

Izou released his teeth, licking and lapping at your open wound as you came down from  your high. You were breathing heavily and unhooked your feet from behind him. Izou paused in his ministrations for a moment to roll over, with you now resting on top of him. Your limbs were splayed out as he continued to lick your claiming bite, infusing you with even more of his scent. You idly played with his long hair as your breathing finally returned to normal. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you to his chest. 

“It is done, little mate,” Izou said, kissing your forehead tenderly. You smiled and picked your head off his chest.

“Am I dreaming? This is beyond what I thought possible in this life. I hope you do not regre-,” you began to say before Izou cut you off by nipping at your ear.

“Never speak about yourself so lowly again,” Izou replied softly. “No one speaks ill about my mate. Not even yourself.” You would listen to him more than you would yourself, he thought. He would work with you until you understood exactly how wonderful you truly were.

“Mate. It’s almost funny. I never thought it would happen to me. I thought I’d be alone forever,” you mused, your fingertips prodding the claiming bite you left on his neck. Izou angled his chin to give you access, pleased with the ferocious bite you’d given him. “I may have bitten you too hard in my fervor,” you said sheepishly. Izou tsked at you.

“Never. I will wear your bite with pride for the rest of my days. And you’ll never be alone again, little mate. I promise.”