#wooooooooooow

You gently tried prying Marco’s arm from around your side, happy to see that he’d at least put you into one of his shirts before bringing you into his bed. He’d seen you naked and a whole lot more, so it wasn’t like it was that big of a deal. Still, it felt different to wake up naked with a man you’d never met before. 

Kind of. 

You tried removing his hand and laying it on his chest ever so slowly, listening to his even breathing in the early morning light. But even the slight movement had Marco stirring from his sleep. He was also a doctor you belatedly remembered, he was likely used to being woken up at all hours of the night. All doctors you’d ever met were light sleepers, either by nature or by training.

“Good morning yoi,” Marco said, watching you from his half lidded eyes. He smiled and stretched his arms over his head, highlighting his eight pack abs. OK, he was good looking, that wasn’t news. He laughed lightly, sitting up in bed. It wasn’t the Phoenix’s dark laugh that made your stomach flip, but it was passable enough, you supposed.

“Hey,” you said with an unconvincing smile, trying to make yourself sound less awkward. There wasn’t exactly social protocol for “I’ve had your dick in my mouth but it was being piloted by the mythical being who inhabits your body,” or “you fucked me with a corkscrew cock while being trapped in the body of a giant bird.” You’d never had great bedside manner and today was no exception.

“This is a little strange - I don’t really know what to say. I’ve been watching you for days but we’ve never actually spoken,” he said with a smile, rubbing the stubble on his chin. At least he didn’t remark on the sex stuff with the Phoenix.

“Yep,” you agreed, tossing your legs over the side of the bed. You didn’t say anything further, waiting for him to continue talking. No pleasant topics of conversation were coming to mind for you either. “Thanks for uh, dressing me,” you said as you stood up. Marco’s shirt reached mid thigh on you, more of a dress than a shirt. 

“Hang on, let me get dressed too. I’ll take you around the ship, introduce you to everyone,” Marco said, throwing off the blankets. Your gaze immediately snapped to his massive cock, making you blush in your memory of the Phoenix throat fucking you. Speaking of…

“Where’s the Phoenix?” you blurted out. Marco’s eyebrows hiked slightly as he stood up, the blanket no longer covering him at all. He certainly was not abashed about being naked, you thought. And with a body like that, you understood why. 

“Hm? I am the Phoenix-”

“No, no. I mean like, the other - you know, the one I was talking to before,” you explained, looking around for your clothes within Marco’s tidy cabin.

“If you're looking for your belongings, they're being laundered right now. They were dirty from all the, ah...well don’t worry, you’ll get them back.” Marco said, walking over to his desk. “Here, I borrowed a spare uniform from the nurses,” he explained, handing you the pink bundle. You unfurled the dress – if something that small could even be called a dress – and scowled. 

“No.”

“Ah, there's nothing else–”

“I’m not wearing that,” you said, crossing your arms.

“It’s not that bad, all the other-”

“If you’re about to tell me all the other nurses wear it, fuck you for three reasons. One, I’m not a nurse, I’m a doctor and a veterinarian. Second, they shouldn’t be wearing it either, it's an affront to their profession. Third, if it's not so bad, you wear it then,” you spat at him, balling the dress and throwing it at him.

“Let me talk to the Phoenix,” you demanded, putting all your weight on one foot. You knew you were taking out your nerves on Marco but it was kind of his fault you were in this position in the first place. Marco frowned but remained silent for a moment.

“He’s sleeping right now,” Marco grumbled, crossing his own arms in the standoff. There was a beat of silence between you. You didn’t really want to get into it with Marco right now, you wanted a cup of coffee after spending days in a dingy cave. And a hot shower, now that you thought about it. 

“Fine. I’ll wear this,” you declared, gesturing to the clothes he’d dressed you in.

“Your tits are out,” he remarked dryly.

“So are yours,” you snarked back. “Gimme a pair of your capris and I’ll make it work,” you said, pulling your arms into the shirt to turn it around. The deep plunging neckline was now in the back, the shirt covering up your front. “There, are you happy?” you asked, your hands on your hips.

Marco POV

Was he happy? He wasn’t sure himself.

It was a strange sensation to wake up back in control of his own body after nearly a month of being shoved to the background. He’d never enjoyed rebirth cycles, the pain of dying by being burned alive every bit as excruciating as it looked. But this time he had the extra experience of watching with awe, horror, surprise, and pure lust as the Phoenix trapped and kept you, eventually turning you into its mate. 

Marco didn’t know he would acquire a mate during a rebirth cycle. He wasn’t aware that was something that could occur, much less that it would happen during this one. The Phoenix hadn’t been particularly forthright about the event either, just telling Marco he’d come to enjoy the benefits of mated life, whatever that meant. 

Marco had kind of assumed that you’d like him without much effort on his part. He thought that the two of you would fall into an easy relationship since you were already mated for life. That did not seem to be the case as you glared at him and tied a sash around the waist of his shirt. You were a little…prickly, but he understood why. If Marco had been surprised, he couldn’t imagine the kind of emotions you were feeling. Not only were you now mated to Marco and the Phoenix, but you now lived on an Emperor’s pirate ship filled with 1000 pirates, including the two who had kidnapped you in the first place. It would be an adjustment, that was certain.

What he did know was that seeing his mark on your back filled him with both pity and satisfaction. The brand was large, taking up the majority of your back. There was no mistaking it either, it was the Phoenix foot that had created the mark. Interestingly, the brand on your skin wasn’t red like a normal brand would be, but had healed in shades of blue. He couldn’t imagine the amount of pain it had caused you, even if the Phoenix had healed you moments later. His fingers itched to touch it, but he didn’t think you’d be receptive right now. 

Marco wished to touch many parts of you, truth be told. When Thatch and Ace had brought you to the cave, he immediately perked up from within the confines of the Phoenix. You were just his type, he thought, and smart to boot. He enjoyed when you talked to the Phoenix, when you sang to him, when you slept on his body. Of course, he had really enjoyed fucking you, even though being in the body of the Phoenix without its presence was an unbelievably strange sensation. 

Marco thought he would spend the morning introducing you to everyone, maybe showing you off a little. He did not expect to be trailing behind you as you angrily made your way down to the galley, pirates moving out of your way as you stomped through the halls. Marco tried putting his hand on your shoulders, only to have it pushed off with disdain. Maybe you'd be more amenable after breakfast.

You entered the galley and made a bee line to the numerous carafes of coffee Thatch set out every morning. The galley was full of various people chatting and eating, including one person Marco was sure you recognized.

“Hey! You made it back!” Ace beamed at you. You gave him a look so cold even the Phoenix felt it.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” you bit out, grabbing a mug from the rack. Ace’s smile never faltered – and neither did your scowl.

“Well, it all worked out, right? Marco told us that you and the Phoenix uh…mated-” you slammed down the empty mug on the table and walked up to Ace, grabbing the tassels of his cowboy hat and yanked him. Hard. You were certainly not one to be intimidated by infamous pirates.

“Shut the fuck up you little shit. I don't give a fuck how big your bounty is or how strong you are, I'll put laxatives in your food until your brains come out your ass. Give me my records back, I know you stole them from my house,” you snapped at Ace. Your voice wasn't loud but the intensity had everyone's attention. Ace’s eyes flicked to Marco, who gave no indication of his feelings one way or another. The mess hall went quieter as everyone pretended to still talk to one another – the biddies all wanted to hear what was happening. By the time you were done dressing down Ace, Marco was sure even Whitebeard would know every creative turn of phrase you'd used.

“If you don’t get me my records right the fuck now, I’ll have the Phoenix eat you whole and shit you out into the sea,” you continued. Eyebrows through the mess raised speculatively, the crew did love a well spoken threat. 

“Can - I don’t - the Phoenix wouldn’t do that right?” Ace asked Marco, his fork dropping from his hands. Marco just shrugged. He also hadn’t liked that Ace took your records. It was insult to injury and Ace had kleptomaniac tendencies that should be curbed anyway.  Besides, the Phoenix wouldn’t eat him. Probably.

“I’d go get the records yoi,” he said calmly, grabbing a new mug for you and filling it with coffee. Ace shoved the rest of the food on his plate into his mouth before stumbling off the bench in the galley. You took the coffee Marco offered you, blowing on the hot beverage.

“Thank you, Marco,” you said politely, as if you hadn’t just ripped Ace a new one. The noise from the crew resumed as the scene ended, some men scurrying off to spread the news that Ace had his ass handed to him. 

Your POV

You hadn’t meant to be such a bitch to Fire Fist but he deserved it and more. Who the fuck was he to say that everything worked out? And you were still mad about the records – he did crack one, just like you’d told him he would – and it was one of your favorites too. You sat at the table where Ace had brought you back your records and a few other of your belongings that he’d pocketed. So now you had your little pink pipe (thank gods), a nice pen you got as a gift from Sengoku, and a set of watercolor paints. You didn’t have any paintbrushes or paper but it was a start. 

You were now laying in a hammock on the deck with your hands behind your head as you swayed gently in the pleasant weather.  You were trying to imagine this was all one big, crazy, vacation. It was delusional but it was helping you calm your nerves, as silly as it was. Marco had tried to spend time with you after breakfast, but you told him the truth – you needed time alone to process everything. It was strange spending time with just him and you just wanted a few hours by yourself. Eventually you would have to meet Whitebeard, all the other Commanders, the crew or whatever, but you didn’t have it in you right now. What you really wanted was to talk to the Phoenix, but Marco said he was still sleeping. Lucky bird.  

You were staring at the clouds in the sky, thinking about how one looked like the Shark Guitar when you overheard two people talking on the deck near you. You took in a deep breath, determined to ignore them and enjoy your strange vacation. Maybe you could even get an alcoholic beverage or two – everyone knew the Whitebeard Pirates liked to party, you just had to get your hands on some.

“- think if you piss on it, that’s good. Piss is sterile,” someone said out of your line of sight. Your eye twitched but you ignored it. Vacation , you thought, a pirate themed vacation .

“Nah, I don’t think it’d work. Ale maybe? That stuff is sterile after they put in in those barrels for so long. That’s why I’m gonna-” You couldn’t take it anymore and turned your head to bark at the idiots who were going to get gangrene.

“Ale’s fermented, not sterile. Don’t use it to wash a wound, it’ll get infected!” you yelled at whoever was daring to interrupt your daydreams. “Fuckin morons,” you said under your breath. You hadn’t meant to interject but the stupidity was too much for you to bear. You saw two guys by the railing, one of whom had an already infected wound on his forerm. Awesome.

You tried to lay back and enjoy the weather again. You tried to think of every cool dance move you’d seen the Soul King do on stage. You even tried to summon the image of Yagi to crowd out the conversation that was reaching you. You thought you had succeeded until someone was blocking your sun, the putrid smell of infection wafting your way.

“So, uh, can you help me?”

Phoenix damn it.

Marco POV

After breakfast you told Marco in no uncertain terms that you were on vacation, not to bother you, and that you’d be chilling in a hammock on the deck. Marco hadn’t been able to get a word in before you stomped away from him, the mark on your back on full display. Something in him felt satisfied when the crew looked at the blue mark on your back – like it was warning them to stay away, that you were his. He would offer to let you wear his shirts backwards every day if you wanted to. 

Marco didn’t know what to do with you. He needed to smooth things over, to get you to like him. The two of you were going to be stuck together from now on, it wouldn’t work if you only liked the Phoenix. Or at least it would make for awkward bedtimes since the Phoenix told him in no uncertain terms that you would only be staying in his cabin from here on out. Marco sighed, wishing he had the time to go flying.

Since the awakening, he was stronger than he’d ever been. He was able to vary the size of the Phoenix, ranging from his hybrid form all the way to the gigantic version from the cave. He felt like he could go even bigger, but he hadn’t had the time to test out his new limits. There was so much power simmering beneath the surface, Marco wished the Phoenix was more forthcoming about what the awakening entailed. But for as much as the Phoenix had been talking for the past month, it was unusually silent now. True, it was resting after the ritual, but being tired had never stopped the Phoenix from giving its commentary before.

Marco was deep in thought as he walked down the hall towards the infirmary, mentally preparing himself for another day of healing injuries that shouldn’t have occurred in the first place. He heard some crew talking in the hall and slowed his step. It was a good way to hear what was happening on the ship without having to engage the gossip mongers directly. Marco’s head tilted as he realized they were discussing you.

“-told her if she didn’t help me right now that I’d die. I figured it would work since it sometimes does on Marco. She looked me in the eyes and said ‘then perish.” Marco overheard one crew member tell another. He stifled a laugh, enjoying your brusque bedside manner. 

He didn’t remember exactly what division they were in- maybe the tenth? But he was surprised to hear that you were working. You’d told him very clearly that you would not be working as a physician, that he took you from the perfect job and now it was his problem. You did add that you would see Stephan and Kotatsu as patients, which he appreciated.

“She stitched my arm and her advice was to not be an idiot,” the other replied. “Saved me from having to talk to Marco and hear another lecture though,” he said contemplatively. Alright, that was enough. Marco turned the corner and gave a placid smile to the men, who stiffened at being caught talking about them.

“And where did you say my mate was?” he asked, pretending he heard nothing. He mentally cringed at calling you his mate out loud and hoped you didn’t hear about it through the grapevine.

“In the infirmary.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said, looking at Marco incredulously. “There’s two doctors for one thousand people? And those thousand people are all pirates who fight regularly and are apparently all idiots?”

“I’m serious. There’s also twenty nurses but they’re only for Pops,” Marco said with an easy smile, leaning against a small desk. Deuce was clutching a pen so tightly Marco thought it was going to snap and was looking between you two. He was used to Marco’s calm and easy going nature, not your bold and brash one. Maybe he thought you and Marco were arguing, but Marco found it rather fun, more like verbal sparring. Marco had found you in the infirmary, snapping at his patients and guiding Deuce’s clinical decision making gently. For as mean as you were to the patients, you were patient with Deuce and corrected him without making him feel foolish. 

“And Deuce, what are your credentials?” you asked sharply, suddenly turning to look at the younger man and flicking your eyes over the ship’s second doctor. The Phoenix in him stirred, not liking the length you were looking at another male. Marco shushed him.

“I um, almost finished medical school?” Deuce answered, giving you a lukewarm smile as he fidgeted. Your mouth gaped open and you gave Marco a nasty look. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath.

“Deuce, you’re demoted-”

“Oh, thank god,” Deuce exhaled, slumping over. He ran his hand down the side of his face as if in relief.

“-back to medical student. You’ll be rounding with me, get your supplies. We start in ten minutes,” you stated. Deuce looked at you like a kicked puppy. 

“But I don’t want to be a doctor-”

“Yeah, well, neither do I. I’m a veterinarian,” you said dryly. You gave Deuce an apologetic look, probably the nicest one Marco had seen you make thus far. “Sorry kid, I still need help. Maybe one day you can go back to whatever it is you wanted to do,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. Deuce looked at Marco. Marco shook his head.

Poor Deuce.

Your POV

After spending a few hours with Deuce, who you actually found tolerable, you excused yourself and went back to Marco’s cabin. You figured that since you and Marco were now mated that his belongings were yours and visa versa. So you rummaged through his drawers until you found what you were looking for.

Booze. 

Every doctor worth their salt on the Grand Line had a secret stash of booze somewhere in their office – you included. And you knew Marco would need booze based on the caliber of questions you’d gotten from the crew that day. You had to confirm that no, salt water directly from the sea was not a cure for strep throat and yes, they really did have to wash their hands every time after using the restroom. How any of them survived longer than a month, you didn’t know. But you did know it would drive Marco to drink. After shuffling through his desk drawers, you let out a happy hum as you found what you were looking for. 

Marco apparently liked rum based on the two open bottles in his desk. You made a sour face, it wasn’t your favorite. You’d thrown up a lot of Captain Roger’s spiced rum one of the first times you’d been drinking as a teen and it had ruined the beverage for you. But as sailors said (were you a sailor now?) - any port in a storm. You grabbed the more full bottle and the tumbler inside the drawer and saw something peeking out behind it.

Pulling it out, you found a crumpled packet half full of cigarettes. Oh ho ho...Marco the Phoenix had a little bad habit it seemed. It endeared him to you ever so slightly. Maybe he could be redeemed. Or corrupted, whichever worked. You filled the tumbler halfway, swirling the amber liquid within. Grabbing it, you chugged most of the rum in one take. 

Bottoms up, bitches.

A few hours later and you were sitting on the floor of Marco’s cabin, your chin resting on your knees and feeling sorry for yourself. You had such a nice life before stupid Thatch and stupid Ace took you. You missed your little house, all the little knick knacks you’d gotten along the way, the paintings you’d done, the photos you had of your friends. You even missed Yagi a little bit, it was amusing when the goat ate Sengoku’s papers.

You weren’t foolish enough to think you’d be going back to Enies Lobby - it wasn’t like the Whitebeard Pirates could waltz up and ask for your things back. No, you were going to be living with Marco for the foreseeable future – maybe forever. You’d figure it out eventually, but for now you were entitled to be in your feelings.

You hiccuped and a tear hit the blue pants Marco had given you. Well, on him they were capris, on you they were pants. You never asked to be the mate of the Phoenix, no matter how much you liked hanging out with that bird. And it wasn’t nice that he abandoned you and left you with human Marco. You missed the Phoenix, you wanted to talk to him. Marco had come by earlier and tried coming into the cabin but you locked it from the inside.

“Are you alright?” he asked, in his annoyingly sexy voice. How dare he be concerned for you when all of this was his fault to begin with? Wait - was it? It was hard to remember right now, but you were pretty sure it was his fault. After your next drink you’d be able to convince yourself it was definitely his fault.

“G-go ‘way,” you mumbled into your knees. You didn’t want to see Marco at all – he would try to get you out of your bad mood and you felt like sulking. There was silence outside the door for a moment before Marco spoke again.

“I’ll be back later. Try and drink some water,” he said before you heard the sound of his retreating footsteps. You sniffled, cried a little bit more, and felt sorry for yourself for even longer. After a while you were emotionally drained but still awake. What you really wanted was company, in the form of a giant flaming bird. But you’d sent away Marco, so your chances of seeing him without leaving the cabin were low. 

Unless.

You tried something new – you mentally reached out to the Phoenix the same way you’d communicated before in the cave. You weren’t sure it would work since Marco was now awake and in charge, but it couldn’t hurt to try. To your surprise you felt something almost like a brush of wings against your mind.

“PHOENIX! ARE YOU THERE?” you thought aggressively. You hoped you didn’t sound drunk in your thoughts.

“Lower your voice. There is no need to yell,”  the Phoenix said with a mental toss of its head. You sent back the mental image of you smiling at it. It sent an image of itself giving you an indulgent look. You preened from the attention, but a thought popped into your mind. 

“Can Marco hear me t-too?” you asked, trying to think quieter.

“Loud and clear,” Marco said from wherever he was on the ship. Whatever, he could hear what you had to say. It wasn’t like he was separate from the Phoenix anyway, you guessed they could also communicate mentally. A permanent three-way, you supposed.

“Well don’t l-listen, Marco,” you demanded, sending a mental image of you with arms akimbo. You heard a mental sigh but Marco didn’t answer. Good enough, you thought privately.

“ Phoenix, can you come here? I’m in Marco’s cabin,” you pleaded, sending an image of yourself with wide eyes and your lower lip protruding.

“I generally do not take the form of the vessel; this is his domain,” the Phoenix answered, its tone soft and apologetic. You sent back an image of yourself as you currently were - sitting in Marco’s cabin, your face red and blotchy from crying, Marco’s empty bottle of rum in front of you. You tried to convey your loneliness and sadness to it but weren’t sure the feelings were translating. You sniffled pathetically, hoping the Phoenix would feel bad for you. There was a moment of silence on the other end before you heard a reply.

“ I’m on my way,” Marco replied.

A few minutes later and you were unlocking the door so that Marco could enter. He looked behind you to see the damage you’d done but didn’t comment on the empty bottle nor that most of the remaining cigarettes were gone now. It was clearly Marco and not the Phoenix, to your annoyance -- that wasn't who you wanted.

“C-can you come out?” you slurred at the Phoenix. 

“Rude. At least ask me first,” Marco said with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, uh, s-sorry vess- uh Marco. Can Phoenix come out?” you said with an apologetic smile. Marco rolled his eyes but took a deep breath and closed them. A moment later, they opened once more and you immediately knew who it was. You stood up and threw your arms around Marco’s middle, hugging the Phoenix tightly.

“Ah, fair mate. To what do I owe the pleasure?” the Phoenix asked from Marco’s body, his arms coming to hug your in return. 

“Can you ch-ange into your f-form?” you asked, rubbing your cheek against Marco’s chest. He had a very light amount of chest hair to your surprise. The Phoenix picked you up, putting his hands under your ass as you wound your legs around Marco’s waist. 

“But in the vessel’s form, I have hands. With which I can do the most wonderful things,” he purred, shifting you to one arm. With the other, he pushed his hand into your hair and tilted your head. You felt his lips at your neck, kissing and sucking up and down the column of your throat. You sighed and melted into his arms, wanting to rip off all your clothes and have drunk sex with the Phoenix. 

“No. Not happening again,” Marco said into your minds. You sensed the Phoenix’s annoyance but he removed his face from yours and walked the two of you over to his bed. The Phoenix sat down and settled you onto his lap. Maybe you'd try again in a few minutes after Marco was distracted.

“Why do you pout, little mate?” the Phoenix cooed at you, as Marco’s fingers tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“ I’m not pouting,” you said, nuzzling your face back into Marco’s broad chest.

“You are. Why are you not interacting with the vessel? It is vexing him,” the Phoenix asked, running his hand up and down your back. You thought that your back wouldn’t be sensitive because of the scar tissue but you could feel every pass of his fingers. You shivered as he lightly ran his fingernails over the outline of the mark, arching into his touch.

“I don’t know. I’m more used to you, I guess,” you said into his mind, winding your hands around Marco’s neck. He was muscled all over, touching any part of him felt great. You sent an idea to the Phoenix if it in Marco’s body, pounding into you, making the bed shake. You'd be on your back on Marco’s bed, holding up one of your legs while the other leg wrapped around Marco's waist. The  You would be moaning, Marco's free hand squeezing your throat as…

“No,” Marco snapped. He sounded pained and annoyed but that was his problem. You sent him an image of you sticking out your tongue.

“Can’t you stay with me? I don’t want - I want to spend time with you,” you thought at the Phoenix. You belatedly realized Marco could still hear and you’d probably hurt his feelings. The Phoenix cupped your face, running his thumbs over your cheeks.

“That is not my role. I share the vessel’s body but this is his world. I am always near, but I cannot often be with you physically. Tonight will be the last for the foreseeable future. You must adjust to being with the vessel,” the Phoenix said, sympathy tinging its tone. It wiped a tear that fell down your cheek as you looked down and nodded. You didn’t really understand why, but you weren’t one to argue with mythological beings about what they could and couldn’t do. You sniffled a while longer as the Phoenix continued to gentle you, eventually placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“You will come to love the vessel as you love me. He and I are two halves of the same coin, he is just as suited to you as I,” the Phoenix assured you. You were quiet for a few minutes longer.

“He’s more strict than you,” you mumbled.

“You mean I am more amenable to your whims,” the Phoenix stated. You thought about it for a moment before answering. Marco had told you that if you went flying together he was going to hold you in a talon to make sure he didn’t drop you.

“Yes.” The Phoenix laughed at your answer, the sound going straight to your pussy. Gods you loved that voice.

“Can we go flying?” you asked, reaching up to put your hands on his shoulders.

“I see no reason why we cannot.”

“Can we do loops and drops and stuff?” 

“No. It's not safe, you might-” Marco interjected.

“Naturally. I have yet to drop a mate,” the Phoenix continued smugly. “Do not worry sweetling, I will guide the vessel in the ways of courting a mate.”