I've been seeing these things where it's "who fell first, and who fell harder" for one piece characters, and the blurbs would go into the reasoning for the choices, if you could do one of those please? the only stipulation I have is it has to include brook, cause he's my favorite, after him you could add whoever you'd like!
Ofc, I've placed a lot of characters, so there are for any taster from admirals, to warlords, yonko and yonko's sons, pirates etc over 50 different characters
𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛?
Brook:
Who fell first: Brook
Who fell harder: Brook
After decades of loneliness, Brook fell instantly when you showed him genuine kindness despite his skeletal appearance. His soul was already yours before he even realized it. He fell harder because to him, you're not just another love—you're the melody that completes his lonely symphony, the reason his soul finally feels at peace after so many years of isolation.
Luffy:
Who fell first: Luffy
Who fell harder: Reader
Luffy fell first because he simply decided you were his friend without overthinking it—typical Luffy fashion. You fell harder because you had to navigate the complexities of loving someone whose first love will always be adventure and freedom, making your affection more challenging and therefore more intense.
Sanji:
Who fell first: Sanji
Who fell harder: Sanji
Sanji falls in love with anyone who shows him a shred of kindness, so he was smitten instantly. But he fell harder because you saw past his womanizing ways to the loyal, wounded man beneath, making his devotion to you eclipse his usual flirtations.
Zoro:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Zoro
You fell first, recognizing the honor beneath Zoro's rough exterior. Zoro fell harder because once he finally acknowledged his feelings, his loyalty became absolute—he'd follow you to the ends of the earth and challenge any god who tried to keep you apart.
Law:
Who fell first: Law
Who fell harder: Reader
Law fell first but kept it hidden beneath layers of tactical analysis and emotional distance. You fell harder because when he finally let you past his walls, the depth of his carefully guarded affection overwhelmed you completely.
Marco:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Marco
You fell first, drawn to Marco's quiet strength and the weight of responsibility he carries. He fell harder because after centuries of serving others, finding someone who wants to care for him instead was a revelation that shattered his carefully constructed composure.
Ace:
Who fell first: Ace
Who fell harder: Reader
Ace fell first, wearing his heart openly as he does everything else. You fell harder because loving someone so determined to outrun his past meant loving all his broken pieces, which somehow made your affection more profound.
Mihawk:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Mihawk
You fell first, intrigued by the solitude of the world's greatest swordsman. He fell harder because your interest wasn't in his title but in the man beneath it, a distinction that unnerved and ultimately captivated him completely.
Shanks:
Who fell first: Shanks
Who fell harder: Reader
Shanks fell first, charmed by your spirit during a casual tavern encounter. You fell harder because discovering that the carefree emperor would drop everything for your safety made you realize the depth of his devotion.
Doflamingo:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Doflamingo
You fell first, seeing vulnerability beneath his cruelty. He fell harder because your compassion was a weakness he couldn't eliminate, eventually becoming an obsession that rivaled his lust for power.
Crocodile:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Crocodile
You fell first, recognizing the wounded man beneath the cynical exterior. He fell harder because your persistence in seeing good in him cracked foundations he'd spent decades building.
Whitebeard:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Whitebeard
You fell first, seeing the father beneath the pirate lord. He fell harder because after decades of being a symbol, being wanted simply as a man was something he never knew he needed.
Katakuri:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Katakuri
You fell first, glimpsing the man behind the perfect facade. He fell harder because you accepted his imperfections without judgment, allowing him to be himself for the first time since childhood.
Kaido:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Kaido
You fell first, seeing the pain beneath his nihilism. He fell harder because your belief that he could find happiness was more terrifying than any enemy he'd ever faced—and more compelling.
Beckman:
Who fell first: Beckman
Who fell harder: Reader
Beckman fell first, recognizing your strength immediately. You fell harder because discovering the depth of his quiet devotion was like finding an anchor in the chaotic world of pirates.
Franky:
Who fell first: Franky
Who fell harder: Reader
Franky fell first with his usual theatrical flair, but you fell harder when you realized beneath the showmanship was a man who would rebuild his entire world just to make you smile.
Jimbei:
Who fell first: Jimbei
Who fell harder: Reader
Jimbei fell first, respecting your character above all else. You fell harder because his unwavering honor in a dishonorable world made you realize how rare such devotion truly is.
Rayleigh:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Rayleigh
You fell first, drawn to his wisdom and the history in his eyes. He fell harder because after living as a legend, being wanted simply for the man he is today touched something he thought had long turned to stone.
Paulie:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Paulie
You fell first, charmed by his old-fashioned manners and the passion he poured into his work. Paulie fell harder because you saw past his debt obsession to the loyal man beneath, making him protective in a way that surprised even himself.
Usopp:
Who fell first: Usopp
Who fell harder: Reader
Usopp fell first, crafting elaborate stories just to impress you. You fell harder when you realized his lies came from a place of wanting to be worthy, making you want to protect the brave heart beneath his insecurities.
Thatch:
Who fell first: Thatch
Who fell harder: Reader
Thatch fell first, his natural charm immediately drawn to your warmth. You fell harder when you discovered that beneath his easygoing exterior was someone who genuinely cared about making others happy, especially you.
Vista:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Vista
You fell first, admiring his elegance in battle and the kindness in his eyes. He fell harder because you appreciated his artistry and the gentleman he was, not just the division commander everyone else saw.
Izo:
Who fell first: Izo
Who fell harder: Reader
Izo fell first, his refined nature immediately drawn to your grace. You fell harder when you realized he offered you a sanctuary from the pirate world, a place where you could both be yourselves without pretense.
Bon Clay:
Who fell first: Bon Clay
Who fell harder: Reader
Bon Clay fell first with a dramatic declaration of friendship and love. You fell harder when you discovered his loyalty was absolute—he'd face down any enemy, defy any odds, all for the sake of the bonds he cherished, especially with you.
X Drake:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: X Drake
You fell first, intrigued by his intelligence and the mystery surrounding him. He fell harder because you accepted his dual nature without question, making him want to be worthy of the trust you so freely offered.
Koby:
Who fell first: Koby
Who fell harder: Reader
Koby fell first, his earnest nature immediately drawn to your kindness. You fell harder when you realized his determination to do good was genuine, making you want to protect that purity in a corrupt world.
Smoker:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Smoker
You fell first, seeing the justice beneath his gruff exterior. He fell harder because you didn't try to change him, instead understanding that his roughness was a shield for a deeply principled man.
Kizaru:
Who fell first: Kizaru
Who fell harder: Reader
Kizaru fell first with his casual, almost detached interest. You fell harder when you realized his apparent indifference was a defense mechanism, and that beneath his lazy demeanor was someone who cared more deeply than he let on.
Fujitora:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Fujitora
You fell first, drawn to his wisdom and the justice he sought. He fell harder because you saw him as a man, not just an admiral, making him want to live up to the faith you placed in him.
Akainu:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Akainu
You fell first, seeing the conviction beneath his extremism. He fell harder because your compassion didn't threaten his beliefs but instead made him question whether justice and mercy could coexist.
Aokiji:
Who fell first: Aokiji
Who fell harder: Reader
Aokiji fell first with his lazy interest that slowly became genuine affection. You fell harder when you realized his casualness masked a deep sense of justice that had been worn down by years of compromise.
Kuma:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Kuma
You fell first, sensing the tragedy beneath his mechanical exterior. He fell harder because you saw the man still trapped inside, making him want to protect you even when he thought he could no longer feel anything.
Kinemon:
Who fell first: Kinemon
Who fell harder: Reader
Kinemon fell first with his formal samurai courtship. You fell harder when you realized beneath his traditional exterior was someone who would defy even death itself to keep his promises, especially to you.
Oden:
Who fell first: Oden
Who fell harder: Reader
Oden fell first with his characteristic boldness and enthusiasm. You fell harder when you realized his larger-than-life personality hid a deep capacity for love that made you feel like the most important person in the world.
Ichiji:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Ichiji
You fell first, seeing the man beneath the "sparkling red" exterior. He fell harder because you didn't fear him or his family, instead treating him as an equal, which was something he'd never experienced.
Niji:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Niji
You fell first, recognizing the pain beneath his anger. He fell harder because your kindness wasn't weakness but strength, making him want to be worthy of the compassion you so freely offered.
Yonji:
Who fell first: Yonji
Who fell harder: Reader
Yonji fell first with his cocky confidence that slowly became genuine affection. You fell harder when you realized his competitiveness was a cry for attention, and that beneath the tough exterior was someone desperate to be seen.
Perospero:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Perospero
You fell first, seeing the artist beneath the sadism. He fell harder because you appreciated his craftsmanship rather than fearing his power, making him want to create things that would make you smile rather than just terrorize his enemies.
Cracker:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Cracker
You fell first, seeing the insecurity beneath his bravado. He fell harder because you weren't impressed by his power or his puppets, but by the man himself, making him vulnerable in a way that terrified and exhilarated him.
Oven:
Who fell first: Oven
Who fell harder: Reader
Oven fell first with his aggressive pursuit that slowly became protective. You fell harder when you realized his ferocity was always aimed at protecting his family, and that he'd added you to that circle without hesitation.
Daifuku:
Who fell first: Daifuku
Who fell harder: Reader
Daifuku fell first with his gruff interest that slowly became possessive. You fell harder when you realized his temper was a shield for a deeply loyal man who would destroy anyone who threatened what he considered his.
King:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: King
You fell first, sensing the loneliness beneath his stoicism. He fell harder because you saw him as more than just Kaido's right hand, making him question a lifetime of loyalty for the first time.
Queen:
Who fell first: Queen
Who fell harder: Reader
Queen fell first with his flamboyant pursuit that slowly became genuine. You fell harder when you realized beneath the showmanship was someone desperate for acceptance, making you want to give him the validation he'd never received.
Jack:
Who fell first: Jack
Who fell harder: Reader
Jack fell first with his brutal straightforwardness. You fell harder when you realized his destructiveness came from a place of loyalty so absolute it bordered on fanaticism, and that he'd transfer that same devotion to you without question.
Gecko Moria:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Moria
You fell first, seeing the broken man beneath the arrogance. He fell harder because you weren't afraid of his darkness but instead wanted to understand it, making him want to let you into a world he'd kept closed for decades.
Hawkins:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Hawkins
You fell first, intrigued by his mysterious nature. He fell harder because you weren't interested in his fortunes or predictions but in the man himself, making him question a lifetime of trusting fate over people.
Loki:
Who fell first: Loki
Who fell harder: Reader
Loki fell first with his god-sized ego and confidence. You fell harder when you realized beneath the arrogance was someone desperate for genuine connection, making you want to see the (childish in my opinion) man rather than just the "Sun God."
Lucci:
Who fell first: Reader
Who fell harder: Lucci
You fell first, sensing the complex man beneath the cold-blooded assassin. Lucci fell harder because your unwavering presence in his life became a variable his logic couldn't compute, slowly dismantling the emotional walls he'd spent a lifetime building until he found himself wanting to protect you more than any government secret.
Buggy:
Who fell first: Buggy
Who fell harder: Reader
Buggy fell first, immediately captivated by anyone who showed him genuine admiration without fear. You fell harder when you discovered that beneath his blustering ego was someone deeply insecure, making your affection feel less like a choice and more like a necessary mission to show him his true worth.
Fukaboshi:
Who fell first: Fukaboshi
Who fell harder: Reader
Fukaboshi fell first, drawn to your wisdom and the kindness you showed his people. You fell harder when you realized this prince carried the weight of his kingdom on his shoulders with such grace, making you want to share that burden even if just for a moment.
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Youre out being a feral beast on a battlefeild but having the time of your life.
Whitebeard: HEY!! THAT'S ENOUGH! THAT'S TOO MUCH YOU BEAST!!
Oh. He absolutely wants to adopt you.
You blow a raspberry at them and flip em off.
You: "SHUT UP OLD MAN YOU'RE NOT MY DAD OR MY CAPTAIN!!!"
It was then you found out. You.fucked.up. He lunges towards you like a bat out of hell and reaches for you with his humongous hand.
The shriek you let out at the sight could be heard from miles because he got your ass and kept you under his arm while you kicked and screamed.
"LET GO YOU PIECE OF SHIT RAHHHHHH"
He scratches his head and heads back to the Moby Dick absolutely unbothered. He's actually blushing a little, happy that he has you now to add to the family.
"Yeah yeah you brat-Thatch!" He yells out.
The 4th division commander jogs over and tilts his head up at the walking mountain "Yeah pops?-oh" he notices you and walks over to your side keeping up with the pace no problem.
"Ok so do you want mac and cheese or meat for your dinner? Im open to requests too" he knew the drill when it came to adopting new young family members.
A/N: oh God this was seriously like balm to my soul, though I'm not that happy with the ending but thank you so much to the amazing and super sweet @ye-old-hermit-woman for requesting "Reader is a new recruit who's exceptionally strong and can handle her own in battles, she's constantly worried over by Thatch and the others since she's the only lady on the ship and she's had about enough." I really really hope you like it and I didn't mess up Thatch
Plot: after being constantly babysat by the crew and teased by Thatch for looking delicate you have had enough and a cleaning task with Thatch turns from banter to something more
Warnings: teasing, use of Y/N, oral, p in v (not to much described though), tickling, not proofread, MDNI ⚠️🔞 (I originally wrote it in first person so if i forgot to change something please tell me)
Characters: Thatch x FReader
The Whitebeard Pirates' gym was usually a cacophony of clanging weights, grunts and the rhythmic thump of sparring practice. Today, however, it was just the swish of brooms and the scrub of sponges. It was your and Thatch's turn for cleaning duty.
You were the newest recruit and the only woman on the primary ship. A whirlwind of power that had surprised everyone. You could out-spar most of the division commanders and had a speed that made even some of the veterans sweat. Yet, you couldn't escape the constant, smothering blanket of protective worry from your new family, especially Thatch, the Fourth Division Commander and chef.
“Careful there, sweetheart,” Thatch chirped, leaning against a dumbbell rack with his arms crossed, a smug, playful glint in his eyes. He watched you haul a massive stack of weight plates back onto the rack. “Wouldn't want you to strain yourself. You’re a fragile flower, after all. Need your big, strong division commander protection, don’t you?” He teased.
You froze, the two plates in your hands feeling suddenly lighter than feathers. The words weren't malicious you knew Thatch genuinely cared and was just teasing. But after a week of being told to 'take it easy,' 'let us carry that,' and 'don't overdo it, sweetie,' you finally snapped.
You dropped the plates with a resounding CLANG.
“A fragile flower, you say?” you gritted out, spinning around. Your eyes were flashing with a mixture of annoyance and determination. “I’m not a fragile flower I'm at least a damn cactus with a temper, Thatch. And I’ve had enough of the tiptoeing and be treated like I might snap in two if I so much as look at a weight.”
You didn't give him time to react. You launched yourself forward, a blur of muscle and righteous anger, tackling the commander mid-smirk.
“Let me show you how fragile I am!” you yelled, driving him back against a sparring mat.
Thatch grunted as he hit the padded floor, a genuine flash of surprise, which was immediately followed by pure, delighted mischief, crossing his face. He met your charge with his arms coming up instinctively, but he held back, letting you scramble on top, trying to pin his arms.
“Woah, simmer down, sweetheart! Didn’t know we were getting a bonus workout!” he chuckled, easily keeping your weight off his chest with one hand while still making you believe you were in control.
You pushed harder, your adrenaline spiking. You used your full strength, the strength that had fended off vicious pirates on the Grand Line, focusing it all into pinning this smug idiot down and not get distracted by his annoyingly charming smile or his damn handsome face. Nope definitely not. Not even by the way he smelled like cinnamon and something earthy and masculine, nope that was not distracting you.
But just as you forced yourself not to think too much about him or this situation right now, the air shifted.
Thatch's smile didn't falter, but the casual lightness in his eyes was replaced by a smooth, fluid intensity. In a move so quick and deceptively effortless you didn't even register it until it was done, he shifted his hips, hooked his leg around yours and used your forward momentum against you.
In an instant, you were no longer on top. You were flat on your back, Thatch’s weight solid and inescapable over you. He had your arms pinned above your head in a vice-like grip, his movements precise and utterly unhurried. He was breathing easily, his chest barely rising while your own was heaving rapdily and that not just from the surpriseof the sudden repositioning.
“See now, sweetheart ” he said, his voice a low, tantalizing rumble, sounding like he was ordering an appetizer, not pinning a powerful opponent. “You’re strong, really strong. But I’m the division commander. And I just happen to be a little bit stronger.”
You blinked, still completely overwhelmed with what just happened. Your face was turning a spectacular shade of crimson. He was right. You had used everything and he had countered it like it was a minor inconvenience. His strength wasn't just raw power, it was practiced, smooth and damnably impressive.
“L-Let go!” you pouted, struggling. “You cheated!”
Thatch’s grin widened. He leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief.
“Cheated? Nah. I just proved my point, princess,” he purred. “And now… you gotta eat your words.”
His hands left your wrists, but you didn’t have a chance to move. One hand shot to your side, the other to your ribs and he started to tickle you. Hard. Relentlessly.
“A-AHAHA! NO! THATCH—STOP IT! I’M GO-AHAHAHAH! C-CURSE YOU! LET GO!” you shrieked, bucking and thrashing with genuine desperation, your speed utterly useless against the sheer assault of playful torment. Tears of laughter and frustration welled in your eyes.
Thatch, eating up your distress like a gourmet meal, pressed his advantage. “Say it, sweetheart! Say who’s stronger! Say you need your big, strong and utterly handsome division commander's protection!”
“NEVER!”
He intensified his attack, his own deep, rumbling laugh filling the quiet gym.
“S-ST-OP! OKAY! OKAY! YOU’RE…… YOU’RE STRONGER! THE STRONGEST! LET ME GO, YOU MEAN TEDDY BEAR!”
He laughed hard at you calling him a teddybear and finally relented, pulling his hands away but he didn't move immediately off you instead his eyes softened and he looked down at you as if memorizing every contour of your face, before finally getting off you and collapsing beside your panting, tear-streaked and red form. The room was silent save for your ragged breaths and his soft chuckles.
“See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?” he said lowly, unable to hide a triumphant smile.
You glared at him, or at least you tried to, catching your breath. “I hate you. I really, truly hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he murmured, rolling onto his side to face you, his teasing gone, replaced by a deep, tender warmth that made your heart skip a beat.
You lay there, chest heaving, staring back. The truth was, you were completely, irrevocably head over heels for this infuriating, handsome, charming and strong man. You had been for quite some time now but always pushed it down.
Thatch lifted a hand, gently wiping a lingering tear from your cheek with his thumb. His eyes dropped to your mouth, and the air between you two went from playfully charged to deeply, undeniably electric.
“You’re beautiful when you’re mad,” he whispered, his voice suddenly husky his hand tracing from your cheek down to your jawline and stopping to gently grip your chin.
You swallowed hard, your heart slamming against your ribs and your lips parted slightly. Before you knew it though he tilted your chin and leaned in, closing the small gap between you and pressed his lips to yours. It wasn't a demanding kiss, but a soft, almost reverent touch, a silent confession of all the worried glances, the playful jabs and the mean crush he had been nursing since you had stepped onto the deck.
You felt the shock, the heat and the sudden, overwhelming relief of shared desire and butterflies in your stomach. You moved, not to fight, but to lean in, your hands coming up to cup his jaw, deepening the kiss into an answer.
When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested together, the cleaning forgotten.
“I was beginning to think I imagined the electric tension between us,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering open as you felt your cheeks heat up and you smiled almost shyly.
“Me too,” Thatch admitted, his own heart practically slamming against his ribs. He gave you a final, sweet peck. “Come on, princess. I know a better place to recover from that very necessary wrestling match.”
He stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, letting him pull you up. Without giving you a chance to respond further, he grabbed you, hurled you over his shoulder with an ease that was almost insulting and carried you through the corridors of the Moby Dick.
“Thatch what are you doing? Put me down.” Your arms flailed, but it was no use and laughter slipped past your lips while you were completely at his mercy.
“Can’t do that pretty girl, you’re going to learn the hard (😏) way how I really treat someone under my protection, someone who admitted that they needed me,” he teased and you grumbled. “Don’t worry love, I’m gonna show you how to worship someone as stubborn… and strong as you,” he murmured into your ear as you reached his room, the door closing softly behind you both and suddenly the teasing, public energy of the gym was replaced by the heat of Thatch’s private room. “And you’re going to like it, trust me.”
Thatch's quarters smelled faintly of something earthy, spices and the sea, a comforting blend that was uniquely him. Thatch moved like a man ready to worship the woman who could handle her own and who, finally, felt truly handled by him, the residual adrenaline from the wrestling match mixing with the frantic, heady desire that had been simmering between you for weeks.
He gently pushed the door closed with his foot. The moment the latch clicked, he set you down gently but firmly, his hands still holding you close, you could feel him pressing against you his hands tracing over your sides and back. His eyes roamed over you with that same teasing, possessive gleam. You could feel the heat rising in your chest.
Your hands moved on their own threading fiercely through the soft, brown strands of his hair.
“You’ve been so stubborn all day,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck making you shiver under his touch. “Talking about how strong you are… how independent… and yet, look at you now. You admitted that you needed my protection, that I’m stronger than you and who would I be to not reward such insight.” He rumbled before kissing you again and you met it with a hungry fervor, a blend of relief and long-suppressed need.
“You’re such a damn tease,” you mumbled, your words heavy with adoration.
“Only for you, sweetheart,” he promised, his voice low and ragged. He lifted you easily, setting you on the edge of his large bunk and took a step back, his hands resting on your thighs, his eyes sweeping over your face.
He looked at you with utter affection, his chest heaving slightly, the playful mask completely gone, replaced by an intense, consuming admiration.
“You have no idea how hard it’s been,” Thatch confessed, his thumbs tracing circles on your skin. “Watching you lift everything, fight everyone, wanting to be the one to worry about you and knowing I couldn’t cross that line.”
“You crossed it pretty spectacularly back there,” you teased, your own breathing evening out, though the heat in your cheeks remained.
He grinned, the familiar mischief returning just for a moment. “I told you, I’m stronger. And you admitted it.”
“I admitted you’re a fiend with a finger-pinch, Thatch,” you corrected, but the fondness in your eyes belied the sharpness.
He chuckled, then grew serious again. He took your hands, bringing them to his mouth and kissing the knuckles one by one.
“You are the strongest person I know, [Y/N],” he said, his gaze locked on yours, full of deep, honest respect. “But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be taken care of. You deserve to be seen, to be appreciated, to be protected and to be absolutely adored.”
He knelt before you, sinking onto one knee, turning the moment into something sacred and profound. He began to worship you not with grand declarations, but with the focused, tender attention that you had been missing for quite some time now.
He pulled off your heavy boots, his large hands careful and gentle as he traced his hands over your tired feet before he got up and pushed you softly back down onto the matress and hovered over you.
You gasped, heart pounding, but there was no fear just a shiver of anticipation. “T-Take care of me… huh?” You whispered back, your voice trembling, craving more of that smug, dominant energy he radiated.
His grin spread wickedly as his hands roamed deliberately and began to slip teasingly under your shirt, feeling every inch of you. “Yes. Worship. That’s exactly what you deserve, [Y/N]. Someone to show you exactly what it means to take care of you and how much I want you.”
You moaned, tilting your head back as his lips trailed down your collarbone, each kiss leaving a mark, a warm imprint of possession. You could feel him pressing you further into the mattress, every movement controlled yet smooth, his power effortless and your body reacting instinctively. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
He caught your hands in his, kissing each knuckle again before he pinned them above your head with one strong arm, his body trapping yours. “You’re going to feel every inch of me,” he whispered, voice low, commanding. “Every touch, every kiss, every mark I leave… will make you feel good and show you that you’re mine.”
You trembled under his control, hips pressing into him and he let out a low chuckle at your reaction. “God, you’re perfect. Strong, stubborn… and yet so desperate for me.” His words made you shiver all over, sending heat pooling between your legs.
Before you could even respond he captured your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue teased yours, exploring, asserting and you kissed him back with the same intensity. Tongues tangled and fought for dominance. Every part of you wanted him, wanted to feel his strength against yours, wanted to surrender and fight at the same time.
When he finally broke the kiss, just enough to smirk down at you, you could see the unmistakable glint of care and love in his eyes. “And now,” he said smoothly, “you’re going to understand why I’ve been holding back. I’m going to worship you… the way you deserve.”
With that everything else faded into the heat of the moment. Every touch, every whisper, every low growl from him told you he had been imagining this for a long time. And you? You were ready to let him take control completely, to show him just how much you wanted him in return.
He moved quickly yet smoothly to undress you, leaving you exposed to him in ways that made your cheeks burn hotter with each passing second.
Thatch’s hands never stopped moving, gliding over every curve of you, exploring, teasing, while keeping you completely pinned under his strength. You moaned into his neck as he nipped and kissed along your collarbone, each bite leaving a mark, each kiss a claim.
“You feel that?” he murmured, voice low and possessive. “Every shiver, every gasp… it’s because of me. Because I’m yours and you're mine.”
Your hands instinctively reached up and started to unbutton his shirt while the mixture of his dominance and teasing words had your mind swimming. “Thatch… please… haaa… don’t stop…” you gasped, body trembling under him.
He chuckled, savoring your reaction as you frantically pulled his shirt off. “Don’t stop? Oh, you’re going to remember this,” he whispered helping you remove his shirt discarding it to the side, before he began trailing his lips from your jaw downwards, teasing your neck brushing over the top of your chest, then teasing the swell of your breasts. “Every inch of you belongs to me. Every gasp, every moan… mine.”
You arched into him instinctively, desperate for more, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. And he responded immediately, his hands sliding down to glide over your sides and stomach down to your waist, leaving lines of fire and electricity in it's wake.
Another gasp left your lips as you felt your skin prickle, his strength both firm and fluid and so damn thrilling and consuming.
“You’re the most stubborn and at the same time beautiful woman I've ever met,” he murmured as he leaned down, capturing your lips again. “You have no idea how many nights I've spent dreaming of this, love. How many times I've been thinking about you, needing you” he breathed lowly.
“I… I… did too!” you onfessed with a gasp, your voice breaking as the kiss deepened. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, pressing your body fully against his. Every inch of you screamed for him, craved him, his touch, the way he had effortlessly overpowered you earlier and the way he always treated you like you were someone special.
Thatch’s grin was wide, maybe a bit possessive, as he broke the kiss to whisper teasingly against your ear, “That’s it. Admit it… admit I’m stronger, admit you need my protection. And then… I’ll worship you the way you deserve.”
His lips traced every inch of your skin, leaving little kisses along your neck, shoulders and down your arms, teasing lightly as his fingers danced across your sensitive spots.
“Yes! Hah! I—I need you! You’re stronger… and I… I need your protection!” You gasped, shivering under him, completely flushed, completely his.
Satisfied, he didn’t stop. He nibbled and sucked lightly on your neck, chest, every inch of skin he could reach, hands roaming freely, teasing, worshiping, marking you in ways that left you breathless. Every touch was a mixture of dominance and adoration, he was cherishing you like no one else had before. You shivered beneath him, heart racing, every nerve alight from anticipation and arousal.
“You drive me insane princess,” he whispered, voice low and rough, “so strong, so beautiful and so willing to let me take control. You’re mine… completely.”
You moaned as his lips trailed down teasing your nipple, giving it a flick of his tongue before he trailed down kissing a path lower and lower till he reached your bellybutton, smirking up at you, savoring your needy face and the whine you made when he stopped. “You're so damn perfect” he murmered.
Then, without warning, he moved between your legs, and your breath hitched as his lips found your most sensitive spot. A sharp gasp escaped you and you instinctively tried to close your legs but Thatch was already in control. His large, strong hands pressed firmly but gently against your thighs, holding them open. “No,” he groaned, voice low, teasing and obsessed. “Not yet. You belong to me now princess, let me show you how much I crave this, you.”
Your body instinctively reacted to the sensation. Back arching and head tilting slightly backwards a deep moan escaping your lips. You were utterly lost in the heat of the moment. Every part of you was melted away, leaving only desire and surrender. And Thatch? He soaked it up, grinning like a child in a candystore as he continued to kiss your core before sucking teasingly on your clit.
You trembled, heat pooling between your legs as his tongue teased and flicked against you, expertly finding every sensitive spot. Every lick, every suck and every move deliberate, every touch a reminder of his strength and claim over you.
You reached down to him, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Haaaah don't — Thatch don't — fuck —don't sto-op” you moaned.
Your hands clawed at his hair and shoulders, your breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps, but he only hummed, clearly enjoying every reaction. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered against you, his pompadour brushing softly against your thighs, his goatee grazing your skin as he kissed and licked. “So stubborn… so strong… and yet, look at you. Completely mine. Every gasp, every shiver—it’s all for me.”
“Thatch… p-please… I—ah—can’t…” you gasped, each word cut off by another flick of his tongue, another teasing kiss that left you writhing.
“Shh,” he whispered, voice low and commanding, hands holding you firm. “You can love. You’re mine to worship, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it and you will too.”
And you did under the combination of his caress and worshipful attention, leaving you trembling and gasping, totally at his mercy but for the first time in your life you didn'tmind being at someone else's mercy.
You were trembling, breathless, your body arching up into his mouth with every teasing stroke, your skin prickling. Your hands twisted in the sheets, your thighs shaking against his iron grip.
You were close, so close as Thatch sucked harder “Thatch… please…” your voice broke, high and desperate.
“Not yet sweetheart” he teased as he felt your body quivering under his ministrations.
“I can’t take it anymore. I need you—inside me—please…”
He froze for a moment, lifting his head to look up at you. His eyes were dark now, the teasing grin softening into something hotter, hungrier. He let out a low, satisfied sound and dragged his thumb slowly along your hip, a silent promise.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he murmured, his voice low and rough with restraint. “You don't know how much I wanted to hear you say that.”
He moved upward, kissing a trail up your stomach, over your chest, up your throat, until he hovered over you again. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight and warmth surrounding you. His face was close to yours now, breath mingling with yours as his forehead pressed to yours.
“I’m going to take you,” he whispered, his tone a mix of command and worship. “The way you’ve been begging for. The way I’ve been dying to.”
You whimpered, trembling under him, hands clutching at his arms for purchase. Every part of you was on fire, desperate for him.
He kissed you then, deep and hungry, one hand gripping your hip while the other cradled your cheek as you felt him slowly enter you making you gasp into the kiss. He rolled his hips slowly, deliberately, teasing you with the weight and heat of him pressed right where you wanted it most but not yet giving in. He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his grin returning, a little smug but nonetheless soft and full of affection.
“Say it again,” he murmured as he picked up the pace deliberately not rushing anything, savoring the moment. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” you breathed, eyes half-lidded and pleading. “Please, Thatch. Make me cum.”
He groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a second and then leaned down to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to lace with yours, holding you, anchoring you. “That’s my beautiful girl…” he rumbled and then he moved, slow but sure, finally enough to give you what you had been begging for, his strength and heat wrapping around you as his mouth found yours again, swallowing your gasp.
You felt him hit that sweet spot over and over, making your heart race as hus grunts became more feral. You were both so close your grip on his hand tightening as you felt the orgasm built up and Thacth began moving faster and a little rougher.
“Thatch — haaa — gonna,” you moaned as you felt yourself cum hard and with a deep feral grunt he followed you, filling you up.
You were both panting by now while Thatch didn't pull out immediately instead he just looked down at you breathing heavily his face slightly flush and small droplets of sweat on his chest.
“I love you my little cactus,” he whispered voice a little raspy now, yet still carrying that teasing undertone.
“I love you too, my big strong protector.”
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Hello Sparks! If you’re into this request would you write some headcanons of Thatch trying to flirt with a shy crush? Maybe one who’s in his division and helps him in the kitchen? :3c
💥Hiya darling!! Ah! Such a cute request, especially for my first ask!, can we all tell that i may have a favourite Whiteheard Pirates character lol? Thank you for requesting!~☆💥
- Thatch? For all of his romantic practices in the mirror? Is actually complete dogshit at flirting in real life,
- When you had first been pulled into the whitebeard pirates orbit, Thatch had mostly found you just sitting in the supply room, organising and making sure everything was in order,
- Since then? Pops had put you under Thatch's division, after all, the cook did need someone to help him with his godawful organisation system, I mean, honestly, who the fuck labels thyme as Oregano???
- Thatch usually keeps his voice down whenever your nearby, shooting looks over at his assistants if they get too loud when you were there,
- Thatch first starts falling for you when he finds your organisation system, the little stars and hearts that you use as coding for what goes where, he can find things significantly easier now that you've been helping him,
- Vista had lended Thatch a few roses and like the hopeless man the cook is, instead of giving you the flower? He uses them to make a rose petal infused version of your favourite dessert,
- Thatch does defintley practice in the mirror to try talking to you, pick up lines that Vista had told him, general flirting, but whenever he actually tries it in person? Izou and Marco are always covering their hands from how hopeless he is,
- Thatch starts to leave small post it notes around where he learns you usually stay when organising the many many storage crates in the Moby Dick, small affirmations, little love confessions, everything he wishes he could tell you,
- in return? You start leaving small love hearts and little messages on the spices and resources that you have organised,
- When Thatch eventually plucked up the courage? He makes dinner for you both and then finally actually gives you the goddamn rose,
Summary: Y/N is told her new rules that her caretakers have given her as they get closer and closer to the winter islands with a storm looming over their heads.
I always found it hard to wake up, especially when I'm pretty sure the sleep I just had was the best sleep of my life. The warm blankets on my cool skin, and Stefan making himself comfortable over my feet provided the perfect temperature as the ship slowly rocked back and forth lulling me to sleep.
Not that it was really required, I was already exhausted. But it was all over way too quickly as I found myself being woken up rather suddenly by a very overenthusiastic Thatch who was way too chipper this early in the morning. Stefan seemed to share in my displeasure growling at Thatch as he jumped off the bed, trying to bite his ankles.
“Up an at ‘em, sugar.”
Thatch shoved Stefan away from him with his foot that Stefan was still trying to bite.
I must have looked like a zombie, I felt like a zombie. Once Thatch got Stefan away from him he took one look at my face while he leaned right over me, his signature chef's coat smelling like bread dough mixed with a very clean but masculine smell of what I assumed was some kind of hair product that must have the strength of concrete to be able keep his hair up in his signature style.
“Come on Buttercup, the day waits for no one!”
I groan, trying to sit up only to collapse right back into the plush mattress as my entire body pulsates with intense pain, not unlike how it felt getting into the bath yesterday before Marco used his powers. Every part of my body was hurting but my hands were definitely the worst of it. The pain meds Izou gave me last night had definitely helped me sleep but it definitely made walking up the next day very difficult after they had worn off.
“It… hurts.”
I could feel every single tear in my skin from my panic attack yesterday with excruciating detail, except now it felt like someone was pouring lemon juice in the wounds. Thatch gave me a tight smile as I looked at him with watery eyes. The rest of my body that wasn't in pain feeling dull and lifeless.
“I figured. You had a very eventful day yesterday, but once you eat something we can give you some more pain killers and you'll be ready to take on the world in no time.”
I groaned as Thatch wrapped his beefy arm about my stiff shoulders, helping me sit up in the bed, my body aching in protest while Stefan, seemingly able to feel my pain whimpered pitifully by the door.
“How are you this energetic at….
I looked around trying to figure out the time of day, my eyes were too hazy from sleep to make sense of anything but I didn't think any proper light was coming from the port hole, at least not any that illuminated the room any, the only light coming from a candle on my bedside table that Thatch must have lit.
“.....what time is it anyway?”
Thatch chuckled, his chest rumbling against my side.
“Well for one; I'm the chef for the entire crew and sleep is practically nonexistent for me. You try feeding all the people on this ship even with a full division to help, and second; It's four in the morning.”
I stare up at him in disbelief.
“Four!!!”
Thatch laughed so hard I thought he was gonna stop breathing. His head was tossed back so far and so fast I was worried he was going to get whiplash.
“Come on, don't be like that. Come spend some quality time with your favorite chef. You’ll be my little taste tester this morning.”
Thatch booped my nose with his free hand as I tried to flop back into the bed but Thatch had already scooped me up and was walking out the door with way too much pep in his step, Stefan following him while trying to nip the bandages around my toes again, and it was only then that I realized I was still in the gorgeous dress Izou gave me last night.
“Wait!!!”
Thatch froze, his arms tightening around my shoulder and the back of my knees, Stefan growling for a second like he thought we were in danger..
“.....at least let me change!”
Thatch stopped in the doorway and looked at my face, then down to the dress before pouting.
“Awwww, but you're so cute. You look so good in this blue.”
Never did I think I would ever see a man like Thatch pout and whine like a child who had their favorite toy taken away from them. Clearly he would need some convincing.
“As a professional chef I would think you’d know about the importance of proper kitchen attire.”
I tried to appeal to his professional sensibilities. And it seemed to work.
Thatch rolled his eyes so hard I didn't think he’d be able to bring them back from behind his skull. But surprisingly he did, bringing them all the way down to look at me as he nodded, if not begrudgingly, and tilted his head from side to side while turning around and plopping me gently on the bed, Stefan coming over to lick at my feet as Thatch turned to rummaging through the dresser that was beside my bed and under the porthole that had no light shining from it. After a second he turned back to me and placed some clothes on the bed beside me.
“Ya need help?”
I looked at the clothes he had picked out for me as I considered his question. It was a simple white knitted sweater and loose black pants with a light purple sash to keep the pants up, but they didn't look like Marcos clothes aside from maybe the sash that looked suspiciously close to his light blue one, but everything else was too small. No, these looked like they would fit me, and even more; they looked like they hadn't been worn. I didn't even know that they had put clothes in the dresser for me.
I looked at my hands, still wrapped tightly in the bandages Marco meticulously wrapped around me after our bath, and thrumming with pain that I didn't think I'd be able to close them, none the less get dressed. I didn't want to ask for help, especially with something so basic but I needed help being fed for the last few days as well as needing Marcos help bathing me and both him and Izou having to help dress me, I'd have to suck it up, again. And clearly I didn't have any other choice, especially because I didn't want to risk ruining this beautiful dress before I could return it to its rightful owner.
So with a deep sigh I finally gave in.
“... yeah”
Thatch could clearly tell how depressed I was about not being able to do it myself. His face contorted into that kind of tight smile you’d give to someone you pity but it was still from a place of kindness. It was humiliating on so many different levels, though not as humiliating as Marco having to give me a bath, but still humiliating. But I guess by now I should be used to others’ clothing me.
But still, I've never needed help like this before, it was so foreign. But at the same time it wasn't like I had anyone to rely on before anyway. Only having myself to take care of everything, everyone and myself while my brother was working. It was strange to rely on others so completely like this. But at least they didn't make me feel bad about it.
Thatch sighed while placing one of his large warm hands on my cheek, stocking it gently with his thumb.
“It's ok to need help (Y/N). You've been through a lot. No one expects you to be 100% right now, that would be ridiculous, we're here to help you till you're all healed up, and however much longer you need.”
I looked up into his kind dark eyes before I nodded begrudgingly. Though it’s not like I really had any other choice.
“I just never thought this was the kind of help I'd ever need.”
Thatch huffed a laugh.
“Fair, but I've never heard of anyone's life going exactly as they had planned.”
I stared up at him with the most unimpressed face I could muster and he put his hands up in ‘surrender’.
“I know, I know; not the point. But I'm not wrong.”
After another second of me halfheartedly glaring at him I raised my arms as best as I could, which wasn't much, silently signaling I would accept his help now.
Thatch leaned over me, my face practically smushed into his chest as his arms wrapped around me in a comforting hug but also so he could reach for the zipper at the back of the dress and carefully unzip it while being mindful of the bandages around my waist. Once I was freed from the beautiful garment I reached for the sweater, determined to try and dress myself at least a little bit. I was able to get it around my neck and one hand into the beginning of the sleeve before it hurt too much for me to get any further myself, my wrist hooked on the arm.
I looked at Thatch like a kicked puppy in the rain, sad and pissed off that I couldn't even get one full arm into a sweater by myself. I looked even more foolish while Thatch looked as red as a tomato with cheeks puffed out so much he looked like a puffer fish as he tried to hold in his laughter…. very poorly. Even Stefan was looking at me with a tilted head, clearly trying to figure out what I was doing.
“Stop staring and laughing and help me, or so help me god.”
He seemed to find my blunt tone even more comical, he wasn't even bothering to hold back his laughter anymore. He was so loud I was worried he would wake up the other commanders.
He slipped his hand into the end of the sleeve I had tried to get my arm through, grabbing my stuck wrist from the inside. He grabbed it gently and helped guide it through the rest of the sweater with the kind of precision only a chef or doctor could have. I winced a bit but the pain wasn't too bad with help.
Thatch went to my other side and did the same, wincing a little at my own pained expressions as he finished pulling the sweater down my torso and over the bandages wrapped around my middle.
“Don't worry, Buttercup. Once I get some food in ya, you’ll feel a hundred times better. My cooking heals all, it almost puts Marco’s powers to shame.”
Thatch’s encouraging smile was strangely contagious. It was hard to be so gloomy around someone so bright. He reminded me of Ace a little at the moment. No idea how he and Ace managed to keep up the attitude seemingly 24/7.
Once my sweater was adjusted properly I stood on shaky legs, the ache shooting up my legs and into my spine, Stefan jumping up and moving a few steps back to avoid being stepped on. \
Thatch leaned down to my height so I could place my hands on his shoulders to help keep me upright as I placed my feet into the legs of the plants as the pulsing pain that was gradually increasing every second became more and more difficult to stomach. My shaking got worse with every second I was on my feet.
“Oooowwwwww”
Thatch winced with me again, that tight, awkward smile returning.
"Bear with me, Buttercup.”
He leaned down, my hands going from being the only thing on his shoulders sliding down to his back, my arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled up the pants for me. Once the pants were up he reached over for the sash before he paused to think for a second.
“Let's sit you down for this, Buttercup.”
Once I was comfortable on the bed Stefan waddled his way back over, laying his head on my feet again while Thatch got down to his knees, still taller than me I might add, and wrapped his arms around me again. My slightly chilled skin absorbs his warmth. He wasn't as warm as Ace but pretty damn close. But he pulled away too fast for me to really enjoy. He wrapped the long sash around my waist one more time before he tucked and tied it so it and my pants were secured around my waist.
Once he was finished he stood back up and gathered the dress that had been abandoned on the floor beside the bed and folded it nicely on the dresser for later. I'd have to remember to let Izou know where it was later so he could get it back.
“Never thought you pirates would be so tidy.”
Thatch gave me a side eye,
“What do you mean by that?’
I shrugged as much as I could before my shoulders tensed too much, my muscles cramping uncomfortably.
“Well Izou and Marcos' rooms are all really tidy, but let's be honest: pirates don't have the best of reputations when it comes to cleanliness."
Thatch makes a sound that's a mix of a sigh and a huffy laugh, his head hung for a second before he walked back over to me, picking me back up and walking towards the door before he said anything, Stefan hot on his…. or…. well…. my heels.
“Fair enough, and to be fair it is true in most cases. However, as the chef of the ship I need things to be clean in my workplace and because my work is practically all consuming it tends to leak out into other aspects of my life. Marco being a doctor is just obsessed with cleanliness and Izou just enjoys things to be organized. Ace could care less but I wouldn't call him a slob. But with the unfamiliar weather in the New World the ship tends to rock a fair bit so anything not tightly secured or bolded down tends to go places whether you like it or not. And the last thing you want to do is trip over yesterday's clothes that you left on the floor if you aren't paying attention to where your stepping after a long day or if you stubble when the ship rocks a bit too hard and you trip over the clothes and end up with a bloody face, so people just tend to keep their spaces tidy…”
I nodded along while he talked and walked down the steps to the deck immediately feeling the intense chill on the side that wasn't snuggled up to Thatch. It was a lot more intense than last night. I shivered in Thatchs arms, goose bumps covering my skin underneath my bandages, making them even more uncomfortable.
“...but I think I know where the messy rumor came from. No matter how clean we keep our rooms, depending on if we have rough seas or just finished a battle, everything tends to get all messed up from all the rocking and shaking unless they're bolted to the walls and floor and naturally we tend to complain about the mess to the shopkeepers when we go buy replacements for any broken furniture or damaged items. I can't even tell you how messy my kitchen is after a rough fight. No matter how much I try to keep things secured I almost always need a new pot or pan, and don't even get me started on the one time I had to replace all our kitchen knives.”
Once we arrived in the kitchen, Stefan being forced to remain on deck, Thatch continued his little rant. I felt significantly warmer now that I was inside, especially because some of the ovens were already on, filling the room with an amazing smell and blanketing me in warmth. Thatch couldn't stop talking about how pissed he was about the time he had to replace all his knives after they were all chipped, some even broken in half and how expensive it was while plopping me on the counter of his little private kitchen again.
I looked over to the ovens that spanned the entire wall all the way down the kitchen and saw what I assumed to be bread pans inside which explained the delicious smell. He must have been awake for a while if he was already able to make bread dough and get them in the oven. Suddenly I was grateful he only woke me up at four am.
“How long have you been awake?”
I looked over to him, pulling my eyes from the ovens, as he threw a dish towel over his shoulder after washing his hands before making his way back to me, pinning me in place as he put his hands on either side of my hips and leaned down so he was a little more eye level with me.
“Funny of you to assume I slept.”
I gawked at him for a second before he chuckled, leaning down a little more so his forehead rested on mine for a second just looking at me, his wide smile never leaving his lips.
“I'm just kidding, I got about three hours. After cleaning up dinner last night and doing a little breakfast prep I was able to catch a few z’s.”
My face didn't change, if anything I'm pretty sure it got even worse which just made Thatch burst out in a cackling laughter.
“How the hell are you so chipper, or even alive for that matter?”
After another minute he finally calmed down, taking in a few deep breaths.
“Oh, Buttercup. You're so cute.”
I glare at him, maybe he stays so chipper by sucking the life out of others.
“I take a few naps during the day between meals, my division's job is pretty all consuming so we don't have any other responsibilities besides cooking and my guys are capable of taking care of most meals especially after I do some food prep the night before. That being said we'll train and always assist in fights or go on missions if Pops needs us to but that's not often. The fourth division is the division you'll see most around the ship.”
I stare up at him in disbelief as he stares back with an all too smug smirk.
“Have you even gotten a solid eight hours of sleep?”
He considers it for a moment, but the look on his face told me he was just fucking with me.
“Nope”
He popped the ‘p’ sounding so smug while saying something so concerning.
“You're kidding.”
His smirk only widened.
“At least not since I joined, which was so long ago I don't even bother remembering.”
I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to say some snarky remark about his unhealthy sleeping habits before he interrupted me with a soft kiss on the cheek. I stare at him with big eyes, what was with everyone here and kisses?
“Now, what do you want to eat for breakfast? There is always some reliable consistency like eggs and bacon, bread, hashbrowns and the thing almost every pirate on this ship lives off of: Coffee.”
I didn't even comprehend his words, I don't think I've even even seen bacon and eggs on the table at the same time, having so many options and then having thatch asking me what I wanted completely short circuited my brain. But he just waited patiently for me to answer his question, his smirk softening into a warm smile as he watched me clammer to find words, any words, only for me to keep looking at him like a gapping fish.
After a few more seconds of him waiting for me to say something his hand reached up and held the back of my neck, but with the size of his hand it also covered the base of my skull. He gave my neck a gentle squeeze, finally grounding me enough to close my mouth and just stare into his eyes.
I didn't know how to feel. I knew it must have taken a lot to feed everyone on this ship, but having all those options like it was no big deal? I just couldn't comprehend it.
“Come back to me, Buttercup. Where did ya go?”
I blink a few seconds, bringing my vision into focus. But Thatchs smile never faltered, seemingly undeterred by my reaction. After another second I finally answered him, saying the first thing that came to my mind.
“I…I’ve always wanted to try pancakes.”
Thatchs dropped for a split second but it returned so fast I thought it would have just been my sleep-idled brain messing with me.
“Pancakes it is.”
He finally leaves my personal space, not like he went far and started working while I enjoyed the warmth I felt coming from the ovens.
He starts gathering all the ingredients needed. All giant bags of flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, eggs, oil, and massive cartons of milk. He grabbed everything so quickly, knowing where everything was like the kitchen was a part of him. It looked more like a kind of waltz than cooking.
After staring at him for a few seconds I finally decided I couldn't sit in this silence anymore. It wasn't particularly awkward but I still figured talking was better than gawking.
“Speacking of, where is the rest of your division? It's a big kitchen for a big crew but we're the only ones here.”
He turns to me and smiles as he finishes measuring all the ingredients into a giant bowl that I could fit in and still have leg room, placing it into an even bigger mixer. Though I guess I should be too surprised a giant crew needs giant portions and giant cooking tools to make it all.
Once he was sure everything was secure and in motion he walked back over to me, leaning the side of his hip on the counter beside me.
“I tend to do most prep throughout the day and the evening so they just have to gather pre-cut and measured ingredients and combine them into proper food. It lets them go to sleep right after dinner and lets them sleep in a little in the morning. Breakfast is served around eight am, so they’ll be getting up around five or six.”
I nod along.
“So you get most of your sleep in the day when you're not prepping and they sleep during part of the night?”
“Exactly.”
We just stood there looking at each other for a few minutes. Well… he was standing, I was still sitting on the kitchen counter, my limbs still pulsing. The silent staring contest only ended when a bell rang.
Thatch walks over to the ovens, opening them all one by one and taking out the pans and dishes of different kinds of bread with the towel that was on his shoulder, placing all the pans on several tall pan holders so they could cool.
The smell of all the freshly made beards filling the room made me close my eyes and took in a few deep breaths. Some were sweet loafs, some savory like garlic and rosemary, some just plain loaves of white bread and even some sour dough. I couldn't help the low moan that came from my mouth as I continued to sit in the delicious smell. I don't think I've ever smelled anything so amazing.
“I think that's the best complement I've ever heard.”
My eyes shoot open as my face warms almost as hot as the ovens, I'm pretty sure my ears started whistling like a kettle. For a second I completely forgot I wasn't alone.
Thatch looked at me with soft eyes as he moved over to the mixer and removed the bowl of the mixed batter and over to several giant pans on an even bigger stove. No wonder he was so beefy, I would be too if I had to lift giant bowls like that full of pancake batter. Not to mention all the giant bags of ingredients, I'm pretty sure all of them had to weigh at least fifty pounds.
“I kinda feel like a doll in a doll house, everything in this kitchen is so huge.”
Thatch let out a huge belly laugh as he placed a few dollops of batter onto the hot pans.
“Nah, you're just small.”
I glare at him,
“I’m not small, I'm perfectly average, you're all just mini giants.”
He snorted a laugh as he finished placing batter on all the hot pans.
“Hahahah, mini giants?”
“Well Jozu, Namur and Fossa are really tall, their small giants, the true giant is your captain, but you're all still really tall, I think Ace and Haruta are the only ones who are of a normal height, so yes… mini giants.”
Thatch was laughing so hard I thought he was gonna pass out and collapse onto the floor, I'm pretty sure he didn't take in a breath for a good two minutes. After a few seconds listening to his laugh I could help but join in. It was contagious, but I couldn't laugh as hard as he was, the marred skin around my stomach and sides hurting with every movement.
“Oh, Buttercup. You're killing me.”
He wiped a tear from his eyes and he came over again placing a hand on my waist and pulling me into him so my butt was just barely on the counter, kissing my temple this time.
“That being said, don't let Pops hear you call him captain, he’d throw a fit.”
I looked up at Thatch, but I did find it hard to believe someone like Whitebeard would ;throw a fit’.
“I know, he already told me to call him Pops after Marco had introduced us. It just doesn't feel right calling him anything else, so I figured I'd just call him Pops while he's around. ”
Thatch stared at me with soft eyes for a few seconds before moving back over to his pans to start flipping the pancakes.
“He may be our captain but nobody calls him ‘captain’ unless they're in deep trouble. It's Pops just Pops whether he's around or not.”
“Still, it just… doesn't feel right.”
Thatch made a huffing sound, like he was unimpressed.
“What?”
“Buttercup, he wouldn't ask for you to call him Pops if he didn't want you to. But he did, meaning, just like everyone else on this ship, it Pops or nothing.”
I look at Thatch like he had three heads.
“I cried like a child in his hand after Marco told me I had been asleep for a week. He probably only told me to call him that out of pity just to make me feel a bit more comfortable, I'm not even a part of the crew.”
Thatch walked over, each step taken with purpose and leaned over me again, pinning me to the counter, forcing me to lean back but I could only lean so far, Thatch’s face stopping just shy of our lips meeting.
“Sweetheart, you are as much a member of this crew as anyone else in his eyes. And he's not the kind of man who gives ‘pity’.....”
Thatch practically spat out the word. Like it left a horrible taste in his mouth just saying it.
“He hasn't had a daughter on his ship in a long time. He's eager to have one again. I’d bet my commander post that if you called him anything but Pops he’d shed a tear or two himself. ”
I almost scoffed.
“Thatch…I’m not even staying long term, I couldn't. I'm not a pirate, I've never been on a ship. I appreciate the care you all have given me and I'll never be able to properly repay you all, but I'd be useless here. I have no idea how to fight. I've never tied a knot in my life. I’d be a burden even more than I am now and that's a disservice I'd never commit to the people who saved my life.”
Thatch tilted his head and leaned closer till his lips grazed my ear softly.
“Baby girl, the last thing you would ever be is a burden, no matter how hard you’d try."
My breath hitched. My head hung down to rest on his shoulder as his hand moved back up to the back of my neck, keeping me in place. I didn't even know what to say to that.
“I-I, I wouldn't h-have anything to do, o-or even contribute. I'd be de-dead weight.”
I couldn't help my stuttering, I felt all shy and flustered all over again.
“Baby girl, I can think of a hundred things you could do for us that would make you invaluable.”
Thatch still hadn't pulled away from my ear. His warm breath wafted over my neck. In fact I’m pretty sure he stepped closer, pressing his body into mine, as much as he could anyway. I didn't even think it was possible for us to be any closer.
“St-stop messing w-ith me.”
He signed, resting his forehead on my shoulder for a second before looking back at me.
“I wouldn't do that to you, Buttercup. You could join my division, I can teach anyone how to cook.”
I huffed at him.
“I bet I'm better than you already.”
He leaned back to look me in the eyes again as his smirk re-appeared at my sudden boost of confidence.
“Oh, and what makes you think that?”
I pause a second before answering him with as smug a look as I can manage.
“I…..”
I pause for a second before finishing smugly.
“....don't let pancakes burn.”
His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates for he turned back to look at his nearly smocking pancakes.
“Ah shit!!!”
He scrambles back over to the pans and tossed them onto a massive serving tray right before they could get really burned. Once he was absolutely sure the pancakes were safe and far from harm he turned back to me with a face of annoyance but he was clearly trying to hold back a smile.
“You little minx. If you weren't so hurt I'd give you what for.”
I felt my confidence slowly come back.
“Why, because you can't handle the competition?”
He raised one eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something before several chefs funneled their way into the kitchen, finally filling the massive space.
Thatch did a complete one-eighty. One second he's in snarky comeback mode the next he is in commander mode.
“Well look what the cat dragged in, hope you got your sleep because we got hungry brothers to feed.”
All the chefs practically stood at attention although their eyes said they were half asleep.
“I need you guys on meat duty, I want ham and bacon in the oven in ten minutes and sausages on pans.”
He pointed to the first few chefs in front, and after they received their instructions they made their way to their stations, making way for the next few chefs behind them.
“You guys get working on the eggs, I want sunny side, scrambled, hardboiled, poached and omelets.”
And again another wave of chefs go into action.
“You guys are on sauce. I need hollandaise, gravy and nothing else, we don't need a repeat of last week, the less sauce the less we need to clean up.”
And another round of chefs with the disposition of well trained soldiers disappear into the sea of chefs.
“You all are on carbs. I’m talking hashbrowns, slice the beads, prepare the rolls, help me finish the pancakes and get the butter and syrups out”
“And finally the rest of you are on fruits, I want lots of oranges sliced especially, I don't need Marco on my ass again because of another scurvy scare. And be sure to use all of the melons and pineapples, they're perfectly ripe and won't last the rest of the week. And once you're done get the dishes and utensils out on the tables for them to grab as they come in.”
And just like that an army of chefs were at their stations cooking like there's no tomorrow, I know I saw it all yesterday morning but that was when they were already working, it was fascinating to see how they all got started.
As Thatch made his way back to my side watching over all his subordinates now that a few of his division was handling the pancakes. Everyone moved with precision and grace, avoiding everyone while simultaneously working together and hauling anything and everything they needed to where they needed it.
“Damn.”
I was practically out of breath at their efficiency.
“Impressive right.”
Thatch leaned over into my ear so I could hear him over all the hustle and bustle that filled our once quiet kitchen.
I looked up at him in disbelief.
“Are they chefs or soldiers?”
He smirks again.
“If I've done my job right, both.”
“ That's terrifying.”
He wraps his arm around me. Hugging my side close to his as the chefs worked around us.
“How so? I promise you're perfectly safe with us, especially in my arms.”
He emphasized his point by plopping himself on the counter beside me and hoisting me into his lap. Securely holding me in place with his strong forearms secured tightly around my stomach while still being mindful of my tenderness. But despite his caution I still wince at the sudden movement.
“Well you never know, i’d argue your division to be the most deadly; they could stab you with expertly sharpened kitchen knives, drown you in perfectly seasoned soups or poison you when you least expect it.”
He leaned over and rested his chin on the top of my head, his goatee tickling my forhead.
“Like Marco would let anything happen to his precious patient. It’s been a while since someone has been so hurt that they needed his daily attention, he won't let anything happen to you. He’s having too much fun, he won't risk losing that to anything.”
“Well it's good to know that you could care less.”
He squeezes my middle a little, making me suck in a sharp breath.
“Don’t even joke like that, Buttercup, none of us would ever let something happen to you and the only thing going into your mouth is going to come from my hands. Just to be safe. Not that I don't trust my division.”
He paused, lifting his goateed covered chin from my head as he looked to his side, my eyes following only to be met with a gaggle of very unimpressed looking chefs.
“What?!?! I said, “I do trust you.”
They all roll their eyes before getting back to their tasks at hand.
I opened my mouth to say something snarky only for my stomach to rumble so lough I'm pretty sure it woke up the rest of the ship.
Thatch laughed for the up-tenth time before the sun had even come up. He kissed the top of my head before hopping off of the counter while I was still in his arms, twisting me around so one of his arms was around my shoulders and the other was under my knees as he made his way out of the kitchen, weaving his way through his division who couldn't be bothered to notice him. Once we were in the galley he set me down on the closest bench style seat in front of an incredibly long table.
“You wait here, I'll be right back.”
He was only gone for a minute but all I could focus on was how hungry I was so it felt like a mini eternity. But when he did come back I could have given him a big ol’ sloppy kiss. He placed a plate of pancakes in front of me, accompanied by some fruits and a glass of juice.
“Eat up, Babygirl, then we'll get some meds in you.”
I nod before I freeze, my body going rigid.
“What's wrong?”
I turn my head up to Thatch, a tight look on my face.
“I don't have my meds on me.”
Thatch stared at me for a second before he huffed out a laugh.
“I thought you were about to tell me something earth shattering, that's why you got so tense, seriously?”
I feel my cheeks warming a little.
“Marco said to always keep them on me.”
Thatch rolled his eyes,
“I doubt he expected them to be glued to you. Besides you were still half asleep when I brought you down here, I'm sure he'll forgive you. After you eat we’ll go back up to your room and grab them. Marco will grab you from there to change your bandages anyway.”
I stared at him for a little longer before looking back down at my mouth watering plate.
“Are you sure it's ok to eat before everyone else? It feels wrong.”
Thatch sat down beside me, one leg on either side of the bench.
“Yes, Buttercup, I'm sure. Call it the perks of being so close to the head chef.”
I smile at him in thanks before I reach for my utensils, only to freeze with my hand hovering over my fork. I was trembling uncontrollably as I tried my damnedest to close my fingers and pick it up.
I tried, and failed to close my fingers more than a twitch. I could feel my eyes burn with shameful tears.
I kept trying, probably hunting my hand more if the pain was anything to go off of, until Thatch’s hand fully engulfed mine and pulled it away from the fork. I couldn't help the choked sobs from escaping my throat as I looked up at him with watery eyes. He smiled that tight smile before bringing me into a hug.
“It's ok, Baby girl, like I said, we don't expect you to be able to do anything. You spent all night last night using your hands, it's only natural they need a break, especially after your panic attack yesterday. Your hands are only starting to feel the real extent of the skin tearing now. In the meantime, that's what I'm here for.”
His arms unwrap from me and reach for my fork and knife with an ease that made me envious. He cuts off a small piece of pancake and holds it up to my puffy lips, waiting patiently for me to open my mouth so he can place the fork in it.
The second the fluffy, sweet pancake hits my tongue, I thought I died and went to heaven, another moan unwillingly escaping my lips.
“This is amazing.”
He smiles while waiting for me to finish chewing and spearing a piece of pineapple for me to eat.
“Well you better get used to it.”
I nodded.
“I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to my own cooking.”
“So you admit that I’m a better cook than you, good. And hey, we just found another thing you could do on the ship. I'll keep you on board just to test new recipes.”
I nodded enthusiastically as I was chewing the tart, juicy pineapple piece. Thatch wasn't kidding when he said it was perfectly ripe.
“I will happily be your food guinea pig.”
After about thirty minutes of him feeding me, my plate was finally empty and my stomach perfectly full. I let out a deeply satisfied sigh as I thanked Thatch.
“No worries, Buttercup, happy to do it. Now let’s get you upstairs, I'll grab Marco after we get your meds, I'll bet he’ll want to take care of the bandages sooner than later.”
I nodded along, too satisfied for words.
Once again I was hauled up into Thatch’s arms and back up to my room. The sun was finally starting to break over the horizon. Reveling beautiful gradient reds and oranges.
“Ah shit.”
I look at Thatch but his eyes are on the red horizon.
“What’s wrong?”
“Red skies, we’re gonna be in the middle of a bad storm pretty soon, gonna have to let everyone know. We’ll have to prepare."
“You can tell that just from the color of the sunrise.”
Thatch tilted his head side to side.
“Kinda, it's not a hundred percent but the red sunlight means the light is passing through high-moisture air, making it red. And high moisture means storms. But because we are really close to those winter islands that means it’ll probably be an ice storm.”
I looked at the beautiful sight but now it just made me anxious.
“Well that's not good.”
Thatch nudged me.
“Dont worry about it, Buttercup, we'll keep you plenty safe. It's not our first storm and it won't be the last. We’re very qualified to keep the ship and us intact."
He starts walking forward again, making his way up the stairs and back into my room, plopping me onto the bed.
My pill bottles had somehow found their way onto the dresser right beside the dress. No idea how we missed it before we left but again, I was still half asleep.
Thatch grabbed the red bottle and popped out a small pill before taking out a small bottle of water from his pocket. He popped the pill into my mouth and held the lip of the bottle to my mouth so I could take a few sips.
“Do you want your anti-nausa meds?”
I considered for a second before shaking my head.
“I’m good right now.”
He nodded,
“Alright, but remember to keep them on you, the strom will definitely shake things up.”
I nod.
“I bet if I didn't keep them on me anyway Marco would throw a fit.”
Thatch snickers a little before walking to the door.
“Speaking of, you sit tight and will grab him and he can tend to your bandages. And I'll see you later.”
I smiled and nodded, waiting patiently for Marco.
__________________________
Once I closed (Y/N) door I had to pause and take a breath to calm myself. Pretty sure if I had spent one more second with her I’d have tourn off our cloths and fucked her on every avalible surface. She is just too precious for words.
I turned from her door and faced Marcos, knocking on it a few times till I heard his sleepy “Come in.”
I walked in, finding him sitting at his desk that was illuminated by a few candles. No doubt going over Pop’s charts. But one look at me and he turned to face me completely gesturing to his bed for me to sit on.
I sat down with a huff, dragging my palm down my face.
“You look like you’ve been put through the ringer, it's barely seven.”
I had to take another few breaths before I said anything.
“That girl is gonna be the death of me Marco.”
He smirks,
“Is that so?”
I nodded.
“I can't even tell you. Her cute sleepy face, her sad little pout when she begrudgingly accepted my help getting dressed and eating. Her soft skin as I held her on my lap. I kissed her plush cheek twice and I think I went to heaven. I can't even tell you how close I was to nutting in my pants, especially when she moaned at the smell and taste of my food. I was fighting a boner all morning. God damnit, I could barely focus.”
Marco smirks at me, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Just a few hours alone with her and you're already falling apart, the great Twin Blade Thatch.”
“Like you were doing any better. And speaking of falling apart; we'll have to prepare for a storm today. We got a bright red sunrise and the temperature has dropped several degrees, it's gonna be nasty.”
Marco took a second to properly look outside his porthole to look at the bright red sunset before a deep sigh escaped him.
“I think it'll be smart to keep her with Ace today then, he’ll keep her warm while we deal with the storm.”
I nodded along as he spoke.
“We’ll be docking at the winter island by tomorrow afternoon. I'll tell her about her new rules we discussed last night while I'm bandaging her up. That being said, I think it'll be good for her to spend some time on the island. I bet Izou would take her. I'll be busy with med restock and you'll be busy with food restock, and Ace will be doing recon and scouting so he’ll be too busy. And besides, I bet he’d love to take her shopping for a few souvenirs.”
I nodded.
“I’m sure he'd love to spend some money on our girl.”
Marco agreed.
“Speaking of money, I think it would be good to give her an allowance of some kind. Just a bit of money for her to spend herself so she doesn't feel like she’s mooching off us, We’ll just tell her as part of the crew she gets a cut of the loot.”
“That’s a great idea, that being said we’ll have to work on her accepting her place as a member of the crew, also she's waiting in her room for you right now. Told her you’d want to tend to her bandages right away.”
Marco stood from his chair,
“Then I better not keep her waiting.”
“Yeah…. damn, we must be some of the luckiest motherfuckers in the world.”
Marco looks back at me as he grabs a coat for himself and (Y/N) that was laying on top of his dresser. Prepared as usual.
“Aside from the obvious, how do you mean?”
“We’ve been able to get her dressed and undressed, seeing and feeling her delicate skin, even if most of it is covered in bandages it's still as soft as an angel's wings. I feel like I'm on cloud nine. Now I just need her naked in my bed, pressed close to me in a beautiful, sweaty afterglow while she's all out of breath and half lidded.”
Now it was Marco’s turn to groan.
“Stop, it's hard enough to keep the Phoenix under control as is. If I don't introduce them soon he’s gonna take control and do things I won't be able to take back. I don’t want to scare her but I also can't hold back much longer.”
I hummed in understanding.
“What if you introduced them while on the island, the med restock won't take too long. And I'm sure she'd enjoy a flight on the mighty Phoenix.”
Marco practically moaned. His blue and gold flames flicked around his shoulders.
“It’s a shame that not what I want her to ride, but I guess it'll have to do for now.”
I laughed,
“Go tend to our girl before we both get hard with just the thought of her.”
He chuckled but took his leave. Once the door shut I relaxed into his bed, my legs spreading wide as images of (Y/N), naked and spread out under me, ready and waiting to be devoured.
I groan at myself as my cock twitches to life in my pants. Looks like the fourth division will have to handle breakfast service themself while I take care of myself in my room.
__________________________
It took a few minutes before Marco knocked on my door, popping his head in before I even had a chance to say anything.
“Mornin’ Baby Bird, how we feelin’?”
I smiled at Marco,
“Morning Marco, pretty sore but Thatch just helped me with my pain meds after breakfast so I'll feel better soon.”
He hummed in a semi-unimpressed tone while setting down two coats he had been holding beside me on the bed before getting down on his knees in front of me, his hands resting on my waist.
“Thatch told me about breakfast, you couldn't feed yourself?”
I nodded solemnly.
“Lucky for me, Thatch didn't let me suffer in my humiliation for too long though."
Marco smiled a little before taking my hands in his, turning them to and fro before finally holding them palm up.
“There is no need for you to ever feel humiliated around us. Could you close your fingers as much as you can without too much pain?”
I wasn't able to close my fingers as much as I thought. All I could do was twitch them, but I guess I shouldn't expect vast improvement in my hands range of motion compared to forty five minutes ago in the galley. But that didn't stop me from trying to close them more.
Marco’s face tensed up as he watched me try to close my hand.
“I did say to try and close them without causing excessive pain, didn't I?"
“You did.”
Marco released one of my wrists and took my chin in his hand and made me look down at him. His face leaned in so close that our noses practically touched.
“Then why are you trying so hard and hurting yourself, Baby Bird?”
My cheeks get a little red,
“They're not going to get better if I don't use them.”
Marco’s fingers tightened around my chin.
“Oh, are you also a doctor?”
I scoff at his mocking tone.
“....no”
I drag out the word, begrudgingly accepting my imminent scolding.
“No? Oh. Well I am, and while we will have to do some physical therapy later, right now your skin is fragile and weak, especially after tearing so bad from your panic attack yesterday. That's why I did your bandages up so tight after your bath, so that you don't accidentally tear them anymore while they're so fragile. Not only that but you used them so much last night, you especially need to rest them after that.”
I tried looking down in shame but Marco’s hand wouldn’t let me, his eyes softening. After a few moments of silence he tilted my head to the side and kissed my cheek.
“From now on you're not allowed to use, nonetheless, lift anything with your hands until I give you go ahead, understand? And I mean nothing, no cups, forks, spoons. Nothing”
I grumbled quietly, but the look on Marco’s face shut that down just as quick as it started and I nodded in defeat.
“Words, Baby Bird. I want to hear you say you understand.”
I look up at his half lidded eyes for a few seconds before giving in.
“I understand.”
He smiles.
“Good. Now, let’s get your bandages off so I can reapply the aloe cream on them and re-wrap you, and we can have an important discussion.”
I look up at him with wide, nervous eyes as he helps to lift the sweater and unties the sash and wiggles down my pants till I was bare, aside from my underwear, once more and he started unwrapping me.
“No need to look that nervous, Baby Bird. I don't want you confined to your room constantly, that will just drive you insane. So now that you'll be out and about off the ship and on an island, it's our job to keep you safe and to do that we need some rules. And especially as your doctor it would be against my duty of care if I let anything happen to you and these rules are how we’ll make sure nothing will happen to you.”
He paused sharply, examining the ankle that was in his hold with an intensity. The mangled skin looked worse than I remember.
“Did…. you try walking?”
The look he gave me was enough to kill a shiver shooting down my spine. It took me a second to find my words.
“I..I…n-no.”
His intense stare pinned me in place.
“Then what did you do? Your feet are bruised, you did something, don't lie to me (Y/N)."
How could he even tell?! My skin was already a bluish yellow color.
“I……”
I wrack my brain for why he would think I tried walking. And then I realised.
“OH!! Getting dressed!”
He tilts his head to the side, silently asking for clarification.
“This morning when Thatch helped me get dressed he helped me stand on my feet so I could get my pants on.”
Marco’s stare doesn't let up. If anything it just gets harder. The silence felt like a pressure on my chest.
“Thats it?”
“Yes… that's it, he carried me around the rest of the morning.”
Marco finally broke his stare and continued examining my feet, after a few seconds he signed before grabbing the same topical aloe cream from his pocket that he had been treating me with the last few days.
He dips his finger in and rubs the cream between his palms, spreading it around and warming it up before starting at my feet and working his way up. His hands gently pressed and massaged all the way up my calf and up my thighs.
“So… those rules?”
I tried to get him talking again so that I didn't just have his methodical hands to focus on.
He hummed, but stayed silent a few more seconds before he started.
“Rule 1: No walking around by yourself, on the ship or on any islands we dock at. We can't guarantee your safety if you're not with one of us, but obviously you can't walk around which brings me to the temporary subsection of rule 1: no walking period. Not until you have my say so. You think using your hand for one evening to feed yourself hurts the next day. You don't want to find out what trying to walk too soon will feel like the next day. I'm already not liking the look of your feet after you stood up for less than a minute this morning.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds as I considered his words and he continued to work his way up my body after dipping his fingers in the jar again, having finished on my legs.
“Ok.”
He could tell how down trot I sounded but he didn't comment on it, just nodding at my acceptance.
“Rule 2: No using your hands, like I said before. Not until I give the go ahead and even then only during our physical therapy sessions.”
“Ok.”
Marco paused a little longer that time, his hands no longer rubbing the cream into my stomach and sides and he didn’t start again as he continued.
“Rule 3: You will visit me every day at least once for daily checkups and bandage changing. I'll also continue to help you bathe until your skin is stronger.”
I didn't say anything at that one, just turning my face away from him a little as my cheeks warmed. I felt like a useless child, having rules placed on me, but it was their ship and I had no room to argue while I was under their care.
“And last, Rule 4: No talking to strangers under any circumstances."
My head shoots back to Marco so fast I'm pretty sure I got whiplash, but before I could get one word out the glare Marco gave me shut me up before I could say anything.
His glare pinned me in place for another few seconds, I didn't even think I was breathing until his face softened and he took my cheeks in his warm hands and kissed my forehead. Holding his lips to my skin for a while till we both calmed down a little.
Once he pulled back he took my left hand and started working the cream into it and up my forearm.
“You need to understand that this isn't a punishment, and the last thing we want is for you to feel like a prisoner, that's the last thing you are. But as a Yonko crew, anyone associated with us is in danger, even if they're not a threat.”
My eyes fill with warm tears as Marco explains his reasoning.
“The last thing we want is for you to feel restricted, you have every freedom to explore the ship when one of us is with you to carry you around and you'll get to explore islands with us as well. Do some shopping and see the world.”
He wiped a tear away with his thumb.
“I promise it's not forever, at least not all of the rules, things will change and as you get healthier you'll have free range of the ship by yourself.”
“And islands?”
Marco signs, his head hanging down for a second.
“Like I said, you are vulnerable to being kidnapped or tortured when you're associated with us but we don't want to keep you on the ship twenty four seven, that is cruel. But with that privilege comes restrictions, you'll be able to walk around and explore but one of us will always be with you. Sometimes we will be busy with our own work as commanders but we’ll always make time for you so that you can explore and have some fun at markets. I'm sure Izou and Thatch would love to go shopping with you and no one is more enthusiastic about exploring islands than Ace.”
The tears came a little faster, my nose starting to stuff up as Marco finished up on my other arm.
“Oh, Baby Bird. You are not a prisoner, and we’ll do our best to prove that to you, but you are our responsibility and we care about you very much and we won't leave anything up to chance when it comes to your safety.”
Marco holds my face so that I have to look at him with my tear blurred eyes.
“I need you to say you understand and will follow your rules, even if you don't like them.”
My lip quivers as I stare at Marco, not wanting to give up so much of my autonomy. Even if I knew in my heart I really didn't have a choice.
‘Please, Baby Bird, for me? And my peace of mind?”
His eyes had sympathy but also held firm, he wasn't going to let either of us move an inch till I gave in.
I looked up, needing to avoid his sharp eyes while I collected. I took in a shaky breath, closing my eyes tightly before nodding my head.
“Ok, I understand.”
“You’ll follow the rules?”
“Y-yes.”
Marco sighed,
“I need you to say the words (Y/N).”
I couldn't help the hiccup that escaped me as I finally gave up my useless resistance. Looking back into Marco’s eyes.
“I will follow all your rules, Marco.”
He smiled, but it didn't really meet his eyes. He could tell how disappointed I was but he kissed my forehead once more regardless, like a form of thanks, before grabbing some fresh bandages from his other pocket and started wrapping me up like a mummy again.
“Thank you, Baby Bird, truly. You have no idea how relieving it is to hear you say that. I promise it won't feel like you're expecting it to. However, I am going to need you to promise me one more thing.”
“W-what?”
Marco finishes wrapping one leg and moves on to the other.
“You’ve never been to sea, yes?”
“Yeah”
“And Thatch told you what a red sunrise means, correct?”
“Correct.”
My voice comes easier to me now that I've started to calm down.
“The storm we are expecting will be intense and cold because we are so close to the archipelago of winter islands. Because of the fragility of your skin and the fact you can't properly keep in body heat Ace will be taking care of you today.”
I nodded along as Marco spoke.
“I need you to promise you won't leave his side, you guys will mostly be held up in his room but if anything happens, you don't let go of him, understand?”
The weight of Marco's words hit me like a tsunami. A sea storm is bad enough but in the New World, it's a whole other beast. My hands started trembling. Marco noticed and immediately took them into his own hands, but being mindful of the fact I didn't have bandages on them yet.
“Dont worry, he will keep you perfectly safe, I just need you to promise me you won't leave his side. I need you to hold onto him the entire time until one of us says the storm has passed. Your legs can't handle standing on their own and even if you could stand, you don't have your sea legs. We can't risk you losing your balance and ramming into a wall or the floor, or worse some furniture and tearing open your skin. I'm still too weak to use my healing flames to do anything other than relive some of your pain so it could be catastrophic, and you'd definitely be bedridden in the infirmary for weeks.”
My breathing got heavy but Marco didn't let me get too far into my panic.
“Breathe, Baby Bird. Ace will keep you safe, you just have to be in his arms for him to do that, understand?”
“Y-yes.”
Marco smiles a genuine smile.
“You’ll stay with Ace?”
“I’ll stay with Ace.”
He smiles and brings my marred hands to his lips, giving each knuckle feather light kisses only a doctor could manage..
“Marco! Stop! My hands are disgusting, they're still all torn and bloodie! At least cover them with the bandages first!"
Marco looked at me like I had kicked Stefan but Marco didn't give me the chance react before he lifted me by my hips and plopped me down so I was completely laying down on the bed as he climbed on top of me before I could even blink as he was straddling my hips and completely encompassing me with his wide frame. His lips practically pressed onto mine. His forearms on either side of my head, forcing me to look him in his eyes.
I didn't even have time to be embarrassed that I was pretty much nude underneath him before he spoke.
“I will tolerate many things, (Y/N) but I will not tolerate my patients badmouthing themself, especially when they have only just started healing. Especially when it's my favorite patient”
I gasped as Marco moved his face from right above me to the side of my head, his lips resting on the shell of my ear.
“I have seen wounds far worse than yours, Baby Bird. If I hear you, or hear that you bad mouthed your appearance while healing again, I'll have to do something I may regret.”
I nodded, my throat closing tightly around any words I would have wanted to say.
“Good.”
Marco kissed the back of my ear before he finally sat up, but he still didn't get off me. Just keeping me pinned under his hips without actually putting his weight on me, which I was grateful for. He'd probably break all my bones.
He gently grabbed my arm, starting to wrap the bandage from my fingers up my arm till it reached my shoulder, repeating the process on my other arm. Once he was satisfied that I was thoroughly wrapped up he kissed my hands, his lips lingering on my hands and he stared into my eyes, clearly making his point.
Once he was satisfied with the redness of my face he got up off me and the bed, helping me sit up and putting my clothes back on.
His hands rested on my neck giving it a light squeeze right before his smile faded.
“Did you only take the pain meds this morning?’
I hummed before nodding.
“Do you have your meds on you?”
“Yeah,”
I pulled the three bottles from my pocket, showing him.
“I want you to take a muscle relaxer, you're very tense. That is not good for healing, it'll help relieve the pain as well.”
“Oh?”
I hadn't even noticed how uptight I was.
Marco plucked the blue bottle from my hand, undoing the top and taking out a pill and holding it to my lips.
I opened obediently and he placed the pill on my tongue, pulling out his own water bottle from his pockets that seemed to be neverending and helped me swallow the pill.
“Does everyone have a water bottle on them?”
He nodded,
“I make everyone carry them, the last thing I want to deal with is a bunch of dehydrated and sunstocked pirates every minute of every day.”
I nodded. Smart.
“Now, let's go find Ace before that storm starts, I'd bet anything that he's tormenting everyone in the galley right about now. That is if he's not already passed out into his plate.”
I counted help but giggle at his words as Marco carefully picked me up and started walking back down to the galley to find the aforementioned living bon fire.
A/N: Here we go! Part two, so exited to after daydreaming of the what if's, I am actually writing it and feeding into the maladaptive daydreaming! I just finished the finals for one of my universities so hopefully I will be able to continue my normal writing rotations soon!And again go check out @rollinouttahere-writes
Reminder that this story is little bit different from my other fics and other because rather than one reader/Oc it has two! one is the Usual Dokucha which means reader in japanese and Yomite which might also means Reader in Japanese? One day I will find out!
“Marco, I reckon you might have overdone it; how much did ya give them? Thatch remarked, watching the steady breathing of the young girl, eyes snapped closed, much to Thatch’s disappointment.
“The girl? Izou’s weapon can only carry a small portion, so she only received a small dosage-yoi” Marco noted his eyes lifting from the papers he had been reviewing, brows cinching together as he took in the girl. With a swift motion, he placed the papers down and approached the girl, placing his stetoscope near her heart.
“She should have woken up already-yoi, but her vitals are all stable, so I ‘m not too worried,” he hummed, removing the stethoscope and beginning to press his palms on different parts of her body.
“She is malnourished, however,” he added before glancing at the gunsman sitting next to the siblings’ bed.
“Did you notice anything during your fight?” he queried
Izou, who had been in a reflexive state, opened his eyes at the doctor’s words, glancing up at the girl sleeping soundly before letting out a thoughtful hum.
“She was significantly slower than what my intel reported, if she was fighting on that scale while malnourished it would explained why she was struggling during our fight” he surmized as he stood up and approached the child, brushing away stray hairs from her face with his Gaze once again softening; something here was simply not adding up and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Marco could only let out another sigh at this, turning back around to continue dotting information in the previously forgotten papers, before Thatch's voice interrupted his thoughts once again.
"The fella is awake!" He cheered, eyes glanced down towards the end of Dokucha’s bed, where the older of the two sat, knees tucked under his shin, and despite his eyes looking slightly dazed, they never lost track of his sister, tracking any move made on her.
"No…he never fell asleep-yoi" Marco corrected
" I really think ya should check those dosages, Marco, you definitely gave this kid too much of something," he chided as he waved a hand in front of the young boy, a frown overtaking his previous grin as he received nothing but a simple glance before Yomite's head dropped, his gaze glazing over completely.
"I never gave him anything-yoi; he went catatonic the moment we brought him on board; he hasn't said a word and has barely moved”
"Marco, don't tell him you scared em out of his wits, ya rascal," he barked, only getting an eye roll from the first mate
"Well, I declare that's nothing a good meal can fix, right?! c'mon fella, I can make anything you want, as long as I have the ingredients, least I can do after this whole situation!" Thatch offered with a grin, melting into a wince as the kid made no move to acknowledge him.
"Tough crowd…c'mon," he urged
"Can't Promise it won't be the same fellin' ya could get at home but it will be plumb tasty! He exclaimed, eyes brightening as his statement finally got the pre-teen to glance up at him.
"Unless it's poisoned, I don't want it."
"Well now…. No need to be like that; I know you are mighty ways from home but as soon as we get some thing settla we will get you right back to your old man. Hell, I will personally take ya to Greenbull if that makes things betta."
That single comment snapped him from his stupor. He had already failed; he had failed to escape, he had failed his sister, but his only hope now was that these pirates could eliminate them so they could finally rest in peace. But now, even that was about to be put in jeopardy. No matter what, he would not be going back, even if that decision cost them their lives.
"I won't let you ruin what my sister and I went through only to be sent back to that asshole," he snarled, jumping for the nearest person, that person being Izou, and in one quick motion, he grabbed one of the man's Flintlocks before the latter could stop him.
At the motion, a tense atmosphere grew in the room as the three men turned their attention to the sudden commotion, Marco dropping the papers in his hand in favor of trying to approach the child, trying to convince him to drop the gun he was currently aiming at his head.
"Now, now, kid, how about we talk about this?" Thatch tried as he inched closer to the pre-teen with the caution a person would use when approaching a terrified cornered animal, which he supposed was not very different from the current situation.
"There's nothing to talk about. I won't go back! I won't let you take her back either!" he swore
"I'm sorry, Dokucha, but I will have to head off early," he bawled with a war cry, his tiny fingers tightening around the trigger. Normally, the child would have been more in tune with his surroundings, but in his craze and altered state, he missed the small signals the Doctor was suddenly giving, and when he had finally noticed it was already too late, as an arm suddenly enveloped him.
Ace had expected many things when he heard news of his brother's sudden capture of the Admiral's children, but walking in on the oldest holding what looked to be his own brother's weapon, straight into his head, was not one of them. He glanced up at the three commanders who were trying to settle the situation before Marco finally took notice of his sudden arrival, gesturing down to the kid. Easily understanding his intention, he swiftly wrapped one of his arms around the kid's torso.
"It's okay, kid, let it go," he shushed, bringing him to his chest and beginning to kneel down as his other hand gripped the arm holding the weapon, sliding closer to Yomite's hand until finally he was able to press into the kid's wrist, twisting enough to make him drop the weapon with a cry.
Ace could only let a hiss as the loss of the weapon caused Yomite to suddenly go haywire, trying to reach for something, anything that could replace the gun, soon resorting to using his own hand to claw himself in an attempt to finish the job himself
"I won't let you, I won't let you."
"Hold him-yoi," Marco ordered, dashing forwards towards the two, a syringe in hand as Ace switched his hold from holding the kid's torso to holding their head and hands still to allow access for Marco and to avoid any damage Yomite himself was attempting to inflict on himself.
"NO! Get way from me; I'll kill you all!"
"It's going to be alright-yoi," Marco assured him as he injected the sedative into his neck, quickly taking over for Ace, lowering Yomite to the floor as he shushed him, waiting for the anesthetic to do its job.
"You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to kid, it's okay" Marco promised, but Yomite was already to far gone, tears rolling down his face at the turn of events, conscious swiftly fading as the men in the room transformed into nothing more than blurs, a single word floating in his mind before black completely enveloped him.
'Dokucha'
Dokucha let out a small whine, eyes opening slightly only to be bombarded by bright lights, lifting her hands to cover them only brought more confusion as she was unable, trying once again only to met with resistance a second time, eyes forcing themselves opening despite the sudden illumination to find an explanation, only to be filled with most questions when she spotted herself cuffed to what appeared to be a hospital bed
"You're awake-yoi, How are you feeling?" a voice piped in, causing her to whip her head in the direction of the voice, eyes furrowing as she spotted a familiar Face
"You're….Mister… Phoenix?" she inquired, head spinning as the man let a small chuckle in response, her eyes drifted downward where another familiar face stood.
"Mister Izou?"
"I'm sorry about the cuffs, but I couldn't risk you hurting yourself," he apologized, taking a few notes in a nearby chart before giving her his full attention, chair rolling closer to her.
"Why would I injure myself?" she mumbled, tilting her head when her question caused the two men to glance at each other before the Doctor eventually broke their gaze, only to switch to looking at something next to her, prompting her to do so as well, the sight bringing tears to her eyes.
"Yomite?" she questioned with a cry, trying to reach for him, only for the same obstacle to stop her, turning around back towards the commanders, lips trembling.
"Can..Can I see him?"
Marco pursed his lips at the question, a thoughtful hum leaving him. It was true that the youngest seemed to be in a much calmer state than her older counterpart. Still, they had believed the same from Yomite at first, only to accidentally drop what seemed to be the catalyst for his sudden shift in attitude. The only way to check Dokucha's mental state was to provide the same Catalyst, something Izou seemed to catch on to easily.
"Before that, dear, I must ask you something."
"Okay…"
"After we do our negotiations would you like us to drop you Near a marine base? So that your Father can retrieve you-yoi," Marco inquired, a frown growing as she noticed the girl freezing up, eyes beginning to water even further.
"Please don't send us back, we can't; we can't go back," she sobbed
“I ‘ll tell you anything you want, everything I know so please; don’t send us back”
Despite being seasoned Pirates and seeing bloodshed in levels one could only imagine, a child sobbing, begging not to be sent home to the point that they would be willing to die to escape, was still something that broke their hearts.
The fought people of all kinds daily, whether they were honorable pirates holding themselves to their honor despite their path or pirates who, due to lack of strength or wickedness, had to resort to less than honorable means, but these, these were children, terrified children that sought not fame or glory but respite, escape. And the way things were going it was growing abundantly clear what the pair was running away from.
Marco let out a sigh as he got up easily undoing the girls binds one by one until she was finally able to sit up on her cot, glancing back at her brother she looked up at the Doctor who extended her hand; giving the blessing to he unspoken request, watching as she wasted no time to run to her brother's bed; enveloping him to the best of her abilities. They let her lie like that for a while until Izou eventually approached her, kneeling beside her with a gentle smile.
"Hey, I need to talk with you."
"About Aramaki?"
"Including him, yes."
"What about Yomite?" she mumble looking up at her brother, his face scrunching up in what she could only guess was another nightmare.
"I will take care of him-yoi" Marco assured her, approaching them to check on the boy's vitals.
"We can also come back in a little bit. We will let you know the moment he wakes up," Izou called, straightening himself up and extending a hand towards her, which with much hesitation she accepted as the two walked away from the infirmary, as Dokucha gave her brother one last glance before continuing to walk beside the gun-user.
