#reluctance

“We could always skip this part and go straight to the celebration?” you asked Tate, waggling your eyebrows.

Tate chucked and replied “sorry, no dice. It has to happen one way or another.”

“Would you mind being the one that gives me the physical exam then?” you asked Tate while walking away from the women’s quarters. She’d shown you the empty bunk that would be yours and you just placed your stuff on it. There’d be time to unpack later - you didn’t want Tate to miss the celebration on your behalf.

“Oh, sure. Would it make you feel more comfortable? Marco can just wait outside the room and I can apprise him afterwards.” Tate had correctly guessed your feelings. You didn’t like being touched - and especially not by men. Marco and the others were nice but you wanted a break from their grabby hands. If you were honest with yourself, you did find Marco very attractive, which set off a series of uncomfortable feelings you’d think about later. Your connection to your romantic side was complicated, at best.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said with genuine emotion in your voice. Hopefully it would be done quickly and you could move on.  Not that you wanted to be at a huge party, but it was better than a medical exam. 

Tate let you into the infirmary, where Marco was already putting on his medical coat. You locked eyes with him, but Tate patted his arm and said with a grin “sorry, Doc. Women only. Nurses orders.” Marco paused his actions and replied calmly “is that so? Alright, I’ll wait in my office.” He removed the coat from his arms and started walking to another room you couldn’t see. He didn’t appear to be bothered that you wanted Tate to complete your exam, which was a relief for you.

Tate brought you to an exam room, and had you sit on the table. You were pinching your fingers again out of nervousness. Tate was unbothered and asked you questions about your medical history, any chronic illnesses, any allergies…pretty general stuff. She weighed you, measured your height, looked in your eyes and throat, all things that didn’t provoke any feelings in you. You were actually feeling a little more relaxed when she put on medical gloves and stethoscope and stood in front of you. “Alright, just us ladies here. Could you take off your shirt, please?”

“No.”

You were surprised you could hold the firmness in your voice. But you weren’t taking off your shirt. You’d been to enough medical exams to know she could do this part with your shirt on. 

“Please? It would make my job easier,” she tried to coax you.

“I’m sorry, but no. I can’t.”

“Alright…then I’m going to have to reach under your shirt to use my stethoscope. Is that a good compromise for us?”

You nodded at her and felt your heart rate spike as she reached under the front hem of your shirt with her stethoscope. She placed it on your heart and asked you to take deep breaths. She then moved her arm around to the back hem of your shirt. She reached under and placed the stethoscope on your back. You sucked in a pained breath - you didn’t like the feeling of anything touching your back. You felt her letting her fingers move a little on your back, but she didn’t say anything about it. She just asked that you take deep breaths so she could listen to your lungs. Once she was done, she pulled her hand and the scope out from under your shirt and smiled at you. “I think that’s all I needed,” she said. “You can go back to the main deck if you’d like. Take the first set of stairs on your right. It sounds like the fools have already started without you.” You thanked her for her work and departed quickly. 

Marco POV

He heard Tate sigh and walk towards his office. He looked up from his paperwork as she leaned against his door frame with notes in her hand.

“So? How’d everything look?”

“Overall, not too bad. She’s a little underweight, but nothing Thatch can’t fix. I’ll let him know to start her on a special diet. I’m sure he’ll be over the moon,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’ll want to monitor her food intake for at least two weeks to make sure she’s eating enough.”

“Anything else?” Marco asked.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed she’s…tightly wound. Highly anxious. And her back is a mess. Wouldn’t take off her shirt to let me get a look at it. I don’t think there are any open or infected wounds, but there’s definitely a lot of scar tissue. I think it causes her pain. Other than that, she’s doing ok.”

Marco’s lips pressed into a thin line. It seemed you did still have some fight in you - even if that fight was only to keep your secrets.The healing flames made more sense now. He wasn’t too worried from a clinical perspective - Tate would have informed him if there was something that needed immediate attention. He’d have to see what was going on even if he had to force you to take off your shirt.

Thinking of gently but sternly forcing you to take off your shirt sent a chill down his spine and blood to his shaft. You would try to wheedle out of it, he thought, but he would remain firm. Maybe you’d cry a little, while he soothed you but continued to take off your shirt against your weak protests. He’d find out what was under there, help you, fix you, reassure you. After such an intimate moment, you’d be soaking in your panties. You’d look up at him shyly through your wet eyelashes and ask him to finish taking care of you. He would push your panties to the side and bully his thick fingers into your tight warm cunt while licking the tears off your face. He would keep finger fucking you until you cried again - this time from overstimulation after cumming again and again. Many things to look forward to. But for now, he’d go and join the festivities on deck. 

He had been disappointed but not surprised that Oyaji had put you in the women’s dorms. Despite being a Yonko, having killed hundreds of people, and going toe to toe with the King of Pirates, Oyaji was still…traditional in some ways. It would take a little creative planning to get you to sleep in his cabin. Oyaji hadn’t outright said anything to Marco during their conversation about you, but Marco knew the old man was perceptive. He and his siblings wouldn’t be able to escape the shrewd eyes - and comments - of Oyaji forever.

Y/N POV

The party was just as big as the ship it was on. You were sure you’d never partied with over 1,000 people before. When you opened the door to the deck and stepped out, you were greeted with a cheer as loud as a thunderclap. ‘

“It’s the lady of the hour!”

“Welcome to the crew, gal!”

“C’mere and toss one back with us!”

Crew members started swarming towards you, greeting you, introducing themselves, and trying to clap you on the back. They were obviously being social, meaning to welcome you to their ranks. But you were highly alarmed, backing away as more and more happy pirates came to wish you well. You tried to smile and talk with everyone but there were too many people surrounding you and caging you in. You had backed yourself into a corner when you felt yourself being picked up around the waist and placed on someone’s shoulder. A large and callused hand held you onto you on your thigh as a large pompadour came into view - Thatch had you. 

“Back up, cabrones! You’ll all get your turn,” he said, effectively dismissing them. Although you didn’t like being picked up, it was nice to have a higher vantage point. There was good natured grumbling but people did disperse and left you to talk to Thatch. He was walking over to a group of pirates - including Ace, Marco, and Vista. 

“Mami, you have to say something if you need something” he said to you over the loud din. “But if you find it difficult, come find me. I’m always happy to help you out Mamacita.” You didn’t reply but thought about what he said. He was right, it was something you could work on. He was probably trying to foster your independence - to make you less reliant on him and the others so they could do what they needed to do. He didn’t take you off his shoulder once he reached the group, which made you feel self conscious. Trying out his previous lesson to you, you leaned towards his ear and said “Thatch, would you mind putting me down?”

“Aw, come on. I’ve been wanting to pick you up all day,” he pouted. You flushed and didn’t ask again. Maybe this lesson didn’t apply to himself, only to others? You didn’t want to cause a scene so you decided to roll with it. It was easier to talk to everyone when you were approximately at their height, anyway.

He had brought you to a circle of Commanders who were talking and laughing. Still on Thatch’s shoulder, he gently smacked your thigh and said, “Y/N, I’d like to introduce you to the Whitebeard Commanders. You’ve already met Ace, Marco, and Vista. But there are quite a lot of us - don’t feel overwhelmed, we’ll all get to know one another.”

The men went around and introduced themselves. You quickly met Jozu, Blamenco, Namur, Haruta, Curiel, Blenheim, Kingdew, Izou…the list seemed to go on and on. You would have to ask everyone their names again after this was all over, there was no way you’d remember everyone. However, when you were introduced to Izou, you felt a flash of memory. You wiggled to be let down and Thatch begrudgingly set you on your feet. 

You walked over to the elegant man and said “Commander Izou, may I ask you a personal question?” The Commander looked at you bemusedly and said “It’s just Izou, and please. Go ahead.” 

“I know this is a long shot, but I’m wondering if we exchanged correspondence many years ago? Was it you who sent the seven lengths of midnight blue Eri silk? Izou is an uncommon name, so I just thought I’d ask.”

Izou’s mouth gaped open. He dropped his sake cup, which broke in pieces when it hit the deck. You bent down, fixed it, and stood up to give it back to him. He accepted the cup with shaky hands. He was openly staring at you, like a thunderbolt had hit him. 

“You’re - you’re- Amo?”

You smiled and said “No one has called me that for a long time. But yes, I used to make clothes under that name. I remember your sketches well - tasteful Wano inspired clothing, an interesting take on men’s and women’s wear, midnight blue silk design with rose silk accents- seemingly the inversion of what you have on now,” you said, contemplating his current outfit.

You continued “Unfortunately, I’m sure all that silk you sent me was destroyed years ago. I can repay you for the cost, if you’d like, since I never completed my end of the service. The quality of the silk you sent was exquisite and I can guess the price you paid. Or if you’d rather, I could still make the design for you. I’d have to redraw it, but I can tailor it even closer to your current measurements. You have a stunning figure -  I’d love to design for you again.”

Thatch POV

Thatch loved seeing you confidently talking to Izou. He was proud of you for finding some of your footing among them. He hadn’t heard you say that much at once since you’d met. Clearly this was something you were passionate about. It was so cute to see you talking and gesticulating with Izou. He wished you were still on his shoulder for this conversation, but at least he had been the first of his brothers to hold you.

Speaking of brothers, Thatch had known Izou for literal decades. He had been with the man through thick and thin, and seen him in all kinds of predicaments. He’d watched as Izou slowly fell in love with Vista, stealing glances and light touches. He’d seen Izou climb the ranks and become a Commander, he had comforted the man for weeks when they learned Oden had died. He knew Izou as well as any friend could. But one thing he had never seen before was Izou…blushing. Izou’s face, chest and even ears were a bright shade of red.

Izou was at a loss for words - something so rare Thatch had only seen it once before, when Vista had proposed. Thatch had to find out more.

“How do you two know each other?” Thatch asked you, since Izou was still dumfounded.

“Oh, I used to make clothes and people would mail me design ideas and sometimes fabric. I received letters from Command..er, Izou, and liked his proposal. We wrote back and forth a few times and I agreed to make him a specific garment. But then I had to leave my island so I didn’t get to make them..”

At this point, Izou interrupted aghast. “My dear, saying you make clothes is like saying Whitebeard can sail a boat. You didn’t make clothes, you are the premier textile artist in the New World.”

Izou turned to the assembled crowd and sputtered “you’ve never heard of Amo? The Amo? The number one designer New World, the brilliant recluse who only took on projects he - er, she - felt were worthy?” Thatch and the Commanders shifted around awkwardly but didn’t answer. Izou sighed and said to you “Don’t be distressed, this group of brutes are not known for their fashion sense. I assure you your fame hasn’t faded - your garments are worth more than ever before since your…disappearance.”

“Oh, I don’t care about any of that,” you said, waving your hand dismissively. “I’ve just missed designing and creating. I’d love it if you'd let me work with you.” Thatch thought Izou was going to pass out.  Izou finally remembered how to talk and started excitedly chattering away with you - he was quite the fangirl. Thatch did remember when Izou had received a letter from someone and was so happy he twirled about on the deck. He had even bought drinks for the other Commanders, a rare occurrence. If you were going to be hanging out with Izou, it would be another set of eyes on you. Izou was the best at casual intelligence gathering, so maybe they could finally get some real information out of you.