hannahbarberra162

[hannahbarberra162]

Fully Human, Chapter 6 (Sci Fi AU, Marco x Reader, dark, dead dove, non con, humans as pets)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | the other chapters

Thank you to @orioncipher and @tryingandfailingtowrite for beta-ing this for me. Thank you all for enjoying my space delusions.

Hallux = Marco's thumb. It's the opposing, opposable digit he has on his hands. His hallux would actually be more like a big toe but we're not talking about that.

Marco POV

Marco spent about an hour collecting various items he needed for you from about the ship. He was trying to keep the news of having a human quiet, at least until you had a translator again and he could explain more of what was happening. But it became increasingly difficult to avoid his brother’s questions about his activities as he gathered supplies. Izou wanted to know why he needed another translator, Haruta wanted to know why he needed infrared lights for his room, Blenheim wanted to know why he needed a youngling suit. Not to mention the crew he ran into while the containment cube trailed behind him filled with seemingly random items. Suspicions were raised among the Commanders but no one said anything outright yet. 

Marco couldn’t help himself from checking on your vitals every few minutes via his controller. They remained steady, your oxygen saturation and heart rate stable. His mind wandered as he pulled up the picture Thatch had sent again. Marco couldn’t get enough of seeing your lithe, limber body in his bed. He really wanted to watch the footage he’d taken earlier during the examination, watching your holes expand to take the rods again, but now was not the moment. He didn’t think his cock could take another round of you making him harder than he’d ever been only to have to wait to do anything about it.

Marco’s final stop along the way was back into his lab. He had run more extensive tests on your blood and found the results surprising. You had been given no immunizations. None. You weren’t immunized against White Lead disease, Sapphire Scale disease, or even against common cold viruses that existed in the galaxies. Given how fragile your health was, he couldn’t believe you’d made it this long without succumbing to some illness. He would have to give you multiple inoculations over the course of the next few days to catch you up. It might make you more fatigued and irritable but it needed to be done. Marco grabbed the injector off the shelf and began selecting for the first round of vaccines that he would administer shortly. 

His hands skimmed over the vials, plucking the ones containing vaccines for the deadliest viruses and diseases you might encounter. Interestingly, you had been exposed to Oro’s Virus. He was shocked when he read the detailed final report; you had barely been exposed to any human based viruses. Wherever you were from was remote and isolated, but somehow had also been exposed to a virus that had been eradicated for about 15 galactic cycles. It had ravaged the galaxies, its effects differing by species, but almost always fatal in those who fell victim to the virus. Marco thanked whatever force was keeping you from dying by the myriad ways you didn’t seem to think about.

As he grabbed the last vaccine vial, he thought about the issue of the clinical cuff. The one you had around your wrist couldn’t remain there, it would start giving faulty readings in a few days. He needed to put something more permanent on you, something that was meant for daily wear. Marco had an idea for a solution but he wasn’t the tech expert, he’d have to ask for help. Marco tapped a quick message to Izou, asking him to come to his quarters in an hour. Izou pinged him back quickly in agreement, as Marco knew he would. Izou thrived on intrigue, he would want to know why Marco had been collecting supplies. So if all went well, Izou would be able to make a prototype for you.

Marco returned as quickly as he could to his quarters while trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. He had a number of tasks but the most important of which was to begin implanting you with the internal translator before you woke fully. The process was easy, but the adaptation to the new translator wouldn’t be, especially for someone with as low of pain tolerance as you. Of course you would be subjected to whatever Marco determined was best for you. But he also promised to keep you from harm so if he could make the process easier for you, he would.  

Marco still remembered the gnawing pain of the translator taking hold in his brain stem despite having it implanted many cycles previously. Unlike the external translators which relied on bulky tech attached to the outside of the head, internal translators were actually microscopic telepathic snails that were injected directly into the brain stem. It was a low tech option but they were much more effective, allowing for closer translations and communications between all species. The positives were that the snails couldn’t be removed or broken in any way, and only died when the host did. The negatives were that it hurt like a bitch when they were implanted and burrowed their way into the brain stem. 

Marco immediately scanned the room for you as he came in. Like Thatch had reported, you were still sleeping on his bed, your chest rising and falling in measured breaths. You looked so sweet like this, a perfect little human pet. He knew your attitude would return after you woke, particularly after he was done with his modifications, but he enjoyed your docility for the moment. 

After admiring your soft curves for a few seconds longer, Marco turned back to the containment cube and pulled out the various modifications and injector. Marco nearly winced when he compared the size of the injector to your neck – the syringe was meant for creatures his size or larger, not someone small like you. Still, it had to be done. 

He placed the injector on a hover tray and set it close to you on the bed. Marco sat near you, his bed warm against his skin due to your body heat. Marco had made the right choice in being hasty, you were close to waking. He had been worried about the dosage  of narcotics he told Thatch to use, using the smallest amount possible. He had been concerned that it would make you sleep too deeply or too long. Human needs meant he would have to keep you on a strict schedule, making sure you always were rested, fed, and well fucked at the appropriate times. He’d establish your routine once you were more settled into your new life and the tumult of your adjustment was over.

That thought in mind, Marco removed the blankets from your top half, once again admiring your smooth and soft skin. As he reached for you, his eyes narrowed at finger shaped bruises on your upper arm. The only being who could have left those in his absence was Thatch. Marco gently picked up your limp arm, examining the marks closely. They were ordinary bruises but Marco ground his teeth at the sight. He had to remind himself of his intentions to mod you before you woke up because what he really wanted to do was find Thatch and beat him for harming you so carelessly. This was why he had to be your Master. Everyone else on board would be too rough with you, injure you, maybe even kill you. They didn’t understand how breakable and fragile you were, how much stronger any one of them were. He’d have to give an information session about how to interact with you to the Commanders before you met them as a group.

Marco healed the bruises quickly, not wanting to see the damage done to your delicate skin, before rolling you onto your stomach. He ran his hand up your spine and moved your hair away from the base of your neck to prepare for injection. Marco probed your neck with his deft fingers, finding a good injection site between your vertebrae. Marco grabbed the injector off the tray, giving it a second to sanitize the area. Once it beeped, he quickly punctured your skin and pressed the lever, forcing the telepathic snails into your brain stem. 

After setting the injector back on the tray, Marco covered you with the blankets once more. His eyes were trained on your expressive face as a small whimper came from your throat. Your brows were knitted in pain as your lower lip pouted. As your Master, he needed to console you with touch, since that was what all humans craved. Marco rolled you to your back and scooped you up into his arms, once again surprised at how light you were. He could carry your small frame endlessly and not feel tired. Maybe he would. 

Settling you into his lap, Marco held you tightly as the pain of the implantation hit you in full.

Your POV

You were in the twilight of being asleep and awake, unable to pull yourself fully into reality. Your head lolled to the side as someone repositioned you to sitting. Your head leaned against something pleasant, a hand rubbing up and down your back while the other held on to your outer hip. Normally this would have been all you ever dreamed of - warm, fed, and being held tenderly. But something felt wrong. 

Something hurt.

And it wasn’t your sore ass or aching head – something hurt inside you, like a parasite was trying to burrow its way into your spine. You whimpered, trying to shift away from the pain. Warm arms held you in place as the agony increased. Tears leaked down your face as you fought the urge to scream. All your muscles were bunching up, your body trying to protect itself against harm. You tried to wake yourself further but it hurt to open your eyes, the light increasing the effect of the stabbing sensation in your neck.

“Shh. I know,” a calm voice said from beyond the haze of artificial sleep. You knew that voice from somewhere but couldn’t place it as your agony increased. The arms tightened further but didn’t hurt you, just gave you something to press against. Sweat was beading on your forehead, the sharp pain nearly unbearable. You whined again, the pain in your neck felt like it was scalpels grinding against your spine. It seemed to be emanating from the base of your neck so you raised a hand to try and rub at the site. A leathery hand encircled your wrist and pinned your hand back down to your side.

“It’s almost done, only a little bit more yoi,” someone said. Despite the pain you cracked open your eyes and looked up. It was Marco, but…you understood him. You tried to talk to him but your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

“ -got me witha transponder?” you mumbled out, the pain already receding.

“I injected you with an internal translator, yes. You should be able to understand me and I can understand you as well. The pain should be ending momentarily,” he said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. You sagged against him while the pain left as quickly as it built. You rested your head against Marco’s chest, taking a few moments to collect yourself before squaring off against him again. The room spun slightly, maybe your head was still woozy from the drugged food. As you tried to keep from vomiting, Marco pulled the blankets down slightly and reached for something behind you.

“Small pinch yoi,” Marco said as something sharp poked your shoulder blade. 

“Ow! Whassat?” you griped, shifting your body away from him. Marco’s hand brushed against the outside of your breast as he set something silver on a nearby tray, which reminded you that you were still naked. You pulled the blankets back up under your armpits.

“Tracking implant,” he said simply. You blinked slowly. Wait, what?

“Tracking implant?” you mimicked his words back to him, unable to express a complete thought. You felt anger stirring within you but your muddled brain couldn’t quite grasp onto it. Marco hummed and rubbed the irritated site on your back, making you huff. You didn’t need his coddling, you needed him to take that thing out of you. If you had a tracker, your chances of escaping undetected to Lafftale were laughable. 

“Yes. So I am able to track your precise location at any given time yoi. I anticipate that you will generally be with me or in this room. But there may come a time that I must leave you somewhere else and the ship is large. I do not want to risk you getting lost,” he explained, as if that was completely logical.

“ ‘M not a pet,” you retorted, indignation building in your tone. The longer you stayed awake, the clearer your mind became. Memories of your time in his lab rose to the surface, making your face flush once more. You tried pushing at Marco’s arms around you, but it was like trying to move wapolian bands. 

“Which reminds me, you are my pet yoi. I have spoken with my Captain and he said I may remain your Master,” he stated, as if your freedom was something he could take away with one sentence. Every word he said made you angrier, his condescending attitude making your mind short circuit with fury. This was the first conversation he wanted to have with you now that you could communicate?

“Take the tracker out,” you hissed at him, your nails ineffectively digging into the skin of his forearm. You wondered if he could even feel it through his tough skin. 

“No, the tracker will remain in your body,” he said evenly, like he was telling a child they needed to eat healthy foods.

“You - you can’t just do things to me and expect me to let them happen! Get it out!” you said, pushing your head off his chest. You wobbled slightly but didn’t fall back into place. One of his arms reached to the side, while the other remained around your waist.

“Hmm. So I shouldn’t inject you with the vaccines for the five most common viruses in the galaxy? Three of which would kill you within a day?” Marco said calmly as you saw him preparing an injector with small vials. 

“N-no, I didn’t - wait, which viruses? Oro’s Virus? Do they have a vaccine for it?” you asked, trying to shake the remnants of your confusion. Marco’s eyes sharpened when you mentioned Oro’s virus. But you needed to know if there was a vaccine for it, if they’d found a cure. Marco didn’t answer but you heard a beep and felt a sting in your outer thigh as he pushed the lever to the injector. You hissed as the vaccines burned through you, it hurt more than you’d been expecting.

“No, that is the only one you don’t need yoi. You’ve already been exposed, you can’t contract it. Why do you ask?” Marco said conversationally. He didn’t really think you’d tell him, did he? You remained silent as he massaged your outer thigh. It did actually feel nice, the pain receding as he continued to rub your skin. You couldn’t stop a happy sigh as he prodded around the injection site gently with his hallux.

“Everything I do is for your benefit. I will be giving you more inoculations over the coming days as well yoi,” Marco continued, his hallux now rubbing small circles on the injection site. Your ire returned as his statement justified doing whatever he wanted to you. Yes, you were glad he was vaccinating you, but that didn’t mean you liked anything else he did.

“You don’t do things for me! You do things because you want to - y-you like when I’m upset. You left me stranded in th-that dirty bubble and I couldn’t see! It was completely dark and I didn’t know if anyone was in the room or not. That wasn’t for my benefit,” you said, trying to show him the error in his own thought process. Marco’s head tilted to the side as he considered the new information you’d provided, his hand still rubbing your thigh.

“Hm. I did not account for your weak eyes when I activated the privacy chamber. I believe I can adjust it so it is easier for you to see out. You were never in any danger, you do not need to fear being left in this room yoi. Why did it distress you so much? Are you afraid of the dark?” Marco wondered, his hallux leaving your thigh and rising higher towards your face. You had been afraid, you had been afraid of the dark since an incident in your childhood, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“I wasn't afraid, but I didn’t appreciate it,” you said defensively, intercepting his wrist and trying to prevent him from stroking your skin. Like all the times before, it didn’t help. 

“Of course you're not afraid," Marco agreed easily with a small chuckle, making you want to strangle him. "But it was time for you to rest,” Marco said while stroking a finger down your cheek. The way he simply informed you of what he assumed you needed made you see red. For the millionth time you wished you were born a stronger being, some kind of creature that could hold their own against someone like Marco. Your ass hurt just from sitting on his lap now that the pain from the injections wasn't distracting you any longer.

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” you said with an exasperated huff. 

“Did you rest yoi?” Marco asked calmly, his hallux now stroking up and down your neck.

“Of course I did! The food was drugged-” Marco’s hand came up to cup your jaw, turning your head to face him. 

“No, before you ate. Did you rest?” Marco repeated, his eyes boring into your own. Despite his half lidded eyes, you weren’t expecting the intensity of his stare. His teal eyes felt like they were looking directly into your soul. You opened your mouth to lie but before you could Marco’s fingers gripped your chin tightly.

“Do not lie to me yoi. I do not tolerate liars. I have your clinical data, I already know the answer,” Marco said, his teal eyes unblinking. You shut your mouth. There was nothing you could say.

“And there is the answer. I know it is in your nature to rebel, especially since I am your first master. But every correction, every order and rule is designed to help you. The more you obey, the easier the transition will be for you yoi,” Marco said, a pleased chirp emanating from him once more. You tried to push his hands off you so you could get off his lap. You didn’t want to be sitting nude in his lap while he told you how little he thought of you.

“Let me go! I’m not – you don’t know anything about humans!” you demanded. Marco sighed and dropped your chin to toy with your hair.

“It is best we have this conversation now and quell any thoughts you may be having about escaping. And if you wish to get off my lap, you will need to ask politely yoi. Unless of course, my earlier correction wasn’t a sufficient learning experience,” Marco said, paying your defiance no mind. You swallowed thickly, your ass still hurt from earlier. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your mind. You’d have to pick your battles and this wasn’t one you were going to win.

“May I please get off your lap, Marco?” you asked in an overly sweet tone, the words practically dripping in venom. In your mind you were telling him to fuck off and die, but you didn’t think he’d appreciate that.

“No.” 

“But I asked like you said!” you exclaimed, fury clouding your senses as you tried to squirm out of his hold. Marco merely shifted you so that you were pressed with your front to his front, your legs bent over his large thighs. Your breasts were pressed against him, your nipples puckering from the cold air hitting your exposed skin. You shifted, trying to get away, but only felt something large rubbing against your core. Your eyes widened – was that…? There wouldn’t be a way that he could fit if that was - 

“And I declined. If I wish for you to be on my lap, that is where you’ll stay. Now stop fussing and allow me to tend to you,” he said as he grabbed a textile disc off the nearby tray. Grabbing both your wrists with ease, Marco pulled your chest forward, exposing your back to him. Instead of pressing the disc on your chest like most textile discs, he pressed it into the middle of your back. 

Your back arched as something cold spread across your skin, different than the textile disc you’d felt before. Unlike your wapolium suit, this one was deep blue and significantly softer. You were a little surprised Marco was clothing you given that he seemed to be obsessed with touching your skin. Regardless, you were thankful that you’d have something to wear. The suit continued stretching over you until Marco touched your wrists and neck with two of his fingers. 

“This youngling suit is better suited for you than your previous one. It has some self cleaning properties, a few healing proteins woven into the fabric, and is much softer for your sensitive dermis. It will not give your skin abrasions like the wapolium one,” Marco explained as he let you push back slightly. OK, that did sound better than having your wrists chafe and bleed daily. And maybe the healing properties meant that your ass would feel better by the end of the night. You ran your hands along the dark blue fabric, finding it pleasant to the touch.

“But how will I take it off? I can’t - I can’t reach the disc,” you said, bending your arms behind you to try to touch it. The disc was in the middle of your back, in a spot you couldn’t quite reach. 

“You don’t. Even if you could reach the disc, it won’t respond to you. It is programmed to only respond to me. It’s meant for younglings who need a caretaker, not unlike you,” Marco said condescendingly as your eyes flashed with anger. 

“I don’t need a –”

“We’ve discussed this already yoi,” Marco replied, not even listening to the remainder of your sentence.

“Then how will I relieve myself?” you asked through gritted teeth. You’d figure out a way to get the suit off – maybe this would be a way.

“I programmed it to allow that function independently yoi. It will split as necessary for that reason and rejoin afterwards. Actually, one of the benefits of the youngling suit is that openings can be made on any part and rejoined after the need is fulfilled. Watch.” You stiffened as he trailed a clawed finger across your collarbones, the suit opening as if a seam had been ripped there. But that meant-

“So you have access to m-my whole body. All the time,” you choked out, a new fear making your breaths come faster.

“Of course I do. I am your Master,” Marco said simply. Marco easily moved you again, as if to prove his point. You weren’t resisting, your thoughts still on the suit and how to get it off. He turned you so that you were now sitting with your back against his front, much like you began this experience. Once he moved you to his satisfaction, his fingers delved into the open seam of the suit. The tips of his fingers reached the swell of your breast but didn’t move farther down.

“Stop telling me that, you’re not my master! Let me go!” you protested, your hands gripping his wrist to try and halt his progress. Marco’s hand stilled, though not by your own effort. You bit your lips, cowering a little. Was he going to spank you again?

“You’ve said similar statements a few times. Let us dissect your desire for freedom yoi. Where would you go? Back to the small, ill equipped vessel that left hours ago? Or back to where you originally came from?” he asked. Your mouth slammed shut. You didn’t want him poking and prodding at your origins, the less information you gave him the better.

“You obviously came from some hidden location, no one has owned you before. So where did you come from before the merchant ship?” he purred into your ear, his second hand coming to grip the front of your throat. You weren’t struggling now but you felt your pulse quicken as his long fingers tightened slightly. He wasn’t restricting your breathing, but even the threat of doing so had you feeling faint. You’d thought about being interrogated for information before, it was something you thought you’d prepared yourself for. But preparing and living it were two different things.

“You can do whatever you want to me, torture me however you like. I won’t tell you anything,” you said, feeling his palm against you as you swallowed. Marco gave a dark laugh, the sound worming into your lower stomach and making you clench. You felt his breath on your exposed chest, his fingers now pushing deeper into your suit and cupping your breast. Your breath hitched as he rolled your pert nipple between his fingers.

“Such a defiant little pet. I don’t want to hurt you, I want to pleasure you yoi. And I want you to pleasure me,” he said softly into your ear. A long tongue breached the shell of your ear, making you shiver. 

“Your heart is beating quickly,” he murmured into your ear. “Are you scared again?” You didn’t respond immediately, looking away from him as he kneaded your breast and pinched your nipple. You tried to suppress your mewl as he toyed with you, tried to stop yourself from grinding against his hard length. 

“N-no,” you whispered, wishing you sounded more sure of yourself.

“Perhaps you want something else from me then, hm?” he asked as he opened another seam down the front of your suit, nearly to your pussy. His hand left your throat to explore the new open seam, his talons pushing down your stomach. You resisted the urge to wriggle as he brought your senses to life. What was wrong with you? Why were you ready to moan as he tried to extract vital information from you? 

This was too overwhelming, too much for you right now. You gulped back tears even as you wanted to arch into his touch. You couldn’t believe your body wanted to respond to him again, so soon after he examined and humiliated you. But your mind couldn’t take it, you were too overwhelmed, too raw, too confused. You would crack and break if he did anything else to you right now. 

“S-stop. Please,” you begged quietly, tears starting to pool on your lashline. Marco’s hands stopped as he looked at your face. You felt his lips on your head in what you guessed was supposed to be an approximation of a kiss. He pulled his hands out from beneath your suit and closed the seams once more, his fingers sliding against the fabric of the suit. 

“Sad little human, so pretty when you cry yoi. See what happens when you’re a good girl? When you act like the sweet pet I know you can be?” he cooed at you. You took a shuddering breath, tension making your chest tight. Marco ran his hands over your clothed arms, like he was comforting a frightened animal. He pulled you flush against him, his hands roving over the outside of the suit. You thought he might drop the subject of your origins, but Marco began speaking a few moments later.

“Back to my original question - where would you go with your freedom? You have no spacecraft, no biological immunity to any diseases or viruses, no ability to fight any kind of creatures, no Berri credits, no ability to survive in harsh conditions, and you’d be hunted to the ends of the universe by beings much worse than myself. Your crew did not put up a fight and immediately surrendered you to us. Could you find another that can defeat an Emperor’s crew like this one? A crew who would defend you and not sell you to the Celestial Dragons for trillions of Berri credits? So I ask you again – where would you go ?” His words were practically whispered by the end of his line of questioning, the softly spoken words ripping your plans of escape to shreds. 

Humiliation burned through you and the tears that had threatened to spill earlier were now dripping down your cheeks. OK, there were some parts of your plans you had to think through again, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be relegated to being his personal fuck toy. Marco tutted at you, his thumb rubbing the tears off your face. 

“I do not mean to upset you. But that is the reality of your situation yoi. You are incredibly vulnerable and unfathomably valuable, a dangerous combination. Most beings would not be as kind as I have been. You would have been bred immediately and tortured thereafter for the whereabouts of the other humans. You must remain here with me, there is nowhere else you will be safe. Do not worry, pretty human. I will take care of everything you need,” Marco said quietly as you sniffled.

His words made sense, you knew you were weak and vulnerable. And yet you couldn’t shake your desire for freedom, your need for autonomy. Your species hadn’t eked out survival among the stars just for you to end up right back where you began. You wanted a moment alone to gather your thoughts – there must be some way you could get away from him.  

“And who is this lovely little specimen?” a voice purred as another being entered Marco’s room. His top half was humanoid, complete with two arms and a humanish looking face. His long, straight black hair matched his completely black eyes, strikingly set against his lavender skin. He was dressed elegantly in a long,  purple garment made from real fabric. But as he moved into the room, you saw through a slit in his dark purple dress that his bottom half was composed of tentacles. Long, thick, muscled tentacles propelling him quickly towards you. Your vision narrowed until he was the only thing you could focus on as he gracefully moved towards you, his tentacles moving him so seamlessly he appeared to be floating.

You couldn’t breathe, your suit was now suffocating you. You watched his every move as you clawed ineffectively at the neckline of your suit, trying to get more air in your lungs. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and your heart hammered in your chest. You pushed against Marco with all your might, trying harder than ever to escape his hold. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, giving you additional strength to try and flee as fast as you could. 

You needed to get away.

Now.

Taglist: @rebeccawinters @mfreedomstuff @joyfullittlethings

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize AU - One More Nice!Shanks (Non yan Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | the other chapters

I got a bazillion asks for more nice Shanks. Here's just a few - I've deleted many.

In general, I don't like getting these types of asks. I write the characters the way I do because I enjoy them that way. That being said, I did end up writing some nice ABO Shanks for y'all.

You can read this instead of Chapter 3 - he's not a dickhead in this one and he and the Omega have a chance at falling in love.

I'm also writing the final chapter of the main series. Thank you for sticking through my long breaks between updates to the main fic <3

Shanks POV

Shanks watched the little Omega fall asleep in his bed, your chest rising and falling evenly. It seemed like you couldn’t relax even in sleep, your brow still furrowed and your muscles still tensed. Shanks could guess what you were dreaming about and the thought of someone hurting a weak Omega like yourself had him balling his fist. He pushed your hair back from your face, his fingers stroking your cheek gently in an attempt to soothe you. He was loath to leave you, but he didn’t want to push you into heat faster. Shanks gave you a final look over before leaving his cabin, making sure to shut the door quietly so you wouldn’t wake. 

It was late at night but Beckman was sitting at the deck table, smoking a cigarette and watching the night sky. There was a bottle of whiskey and two cups already waiting, Beckman knew him well.  Seeing his Captain, Beckman opened the bottle and poured tall shots for each of them. 

“Did ye decide what ye want to do with ‘er?” Beckman asked, handing a cup to Shanks. Shanks took it, swirling the liquid in the glass. He felt the familiar burn as he tilted the glass back and drank it down in a gulp.

“I’m not sure I can do anything for her besides keep her here,” he admitted. Shanks had thought about your situation many times over, and he couldn’t come up with an alternative. If he put you on any island, no matter how remote, you ran the risk of being discovered and kidnapped again. Besides that, you were injured and terrified, you were in no place to be alone for the time being. You couldn’t go back to Beta Island, your cover was blown. Of course he wasn’t going to sell you, the thought alone had a growl threatening to burst from his chest. There really weren’t any other options he could determine besides keeping you on the ship.

“It’s a bad idea to keep an Omega on a pirate ship,” Beckman remarked, pouring Shanks another drink and handing him back his glass.

“Roger did it. That’s how he got Ace,” Shanks replied, swirling the drink in the glass. Beckman grunted, but Shanks wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or not. 

“Not sure that’s the best example to pick,” Beckman argued lightly, draining his own drink. Shanks hummed but didn’t answer. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find you enticing. Every fiber of his being called for him to take care of you, to protect you, to nurse you back to health. He wanted to mate you, sure, but more than that he needed to protect you. Not only that but your scent drew him in a way nothing had before, the desire to bite and claim you rising every time he had a whiff of your alluring smell.

“For now she stays on the ship, at least until her heat passes. I’ll talk to her, see what we can think of,” Shanks decided, drinking the second shot down.

“So be it. We’ll dock tomorrow or the day after, she’ll make it until then. Just don’t fuckin’ mark her or she’ll go into heat right thereafter, yeah? Keep yer head on straight,” Beckman’s voice was firm as he gave his captain a hard stare. Shanks resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his first mate’s attempt to lecture him. He had listened to Hongo, he knew what to do. He wasn’t even going to sleep in the same bed for fear of starting your heat before they could reach an island.

“Who’s gon’ tae stay with ‘er?” Beckman asked. Shanks feigned nonchalance with a practiced shrug. Shanks knew after years together Beckman always saw through him but had the grace not to say anything.

“Whoever she picks,” Shanks declared definitively. And yet his thighs were taut with tension as his mouth easily supplied the words. He wanted to be the one with you during your heat, he wanted to be the one making you come on his cock, he wanted to be the one you called out for when you were out of your mind with passion, he wanted to be the one biting into your scent glands and marking you. But it wasn’t his choice, it was yours. Beckman grabbed the two empty cups and the bottle and grunted. 

“It might be you, Beckman. I’m gonna offer her the choice the next time she’s awake,” Shanks said over his shoulder to a retreating Beckman. He just shook his head and sighed.

“If ye say so.”

Shanks was still hungry after missing dinner, so he meandered down to the kitchens on the hunt for something to snack on. He overheard the conversations flowing between his Commanders as he approached the kitchen and he found himself smiling as they prattled on. He should have known they’d be gossiping because normally he’d be right there with them talking shit. Shanks stood listening in just outside the open door to the galley.

“- know he’s gonna keep ‘er, there’s no way he won’t,” Rockstar exclaimed, slamming down something heavy on the wooden table.

“‘Course he is, have you seen her? All that hair, those legs, the smell? Can you imagine what it would feel like to fu -” 

Shanks’ Conqueror’s haki surged with power causing the wood door to splinter as a rumble simultaneously built in his chest. Bonk Punch, Gab, and Yasopp looked up from their seats astounded, nearly frightened. Their stares confirmed that this wasn’t the Shanks they were used to - he had never used any kind of force against a member of his crew. He was barely conscious of his actions but he couldn’t stop himself from acting this way. He’d barely felt his haki gathering much less activating, shocking himself as much as his crew. But hearing the Omega being objectified and reduced to the sum of her parts filled him with rage. The Red Haired Pirates weren’t like Kid and his crew, they were better than their base designations. He was better. Yasopp looked over at Gab and put his hands up in an apologetic supplication.

“Sorry, Cap. Was just…chatting. Didn’t mean nothing by it,” the sniper’s voice was faint as his eyes darted from his captain to his crew mates. Shanks pulled in a deep breath, reminding himself that these were his loyal men, the people who had been with him through everything. Shanks prided himself on his self control, on his ability to be who he needed to be at all times. And this? This Alpha wasn’t someone he recognized or wanted to be. His mind raced as he began to think that maybe keeping the Omega wasn’t a safe decision after all. 

“Sorry,” Shanks gritted through his teeth as he tried to calm his own turbulent thoughts. He grabbed the closest food off the counter – a bunch of small bananas – and retreated away from his men. Shanks munched on the bananas as he walked back to his cabin, purposefully avoiding talking to any more crew until he’d sorted his mind out. If you did stay on the ship, you’d have to be marked by one of the crew – and soon. His crew wouldn’t be able to navigate such a volatile rise in Shanks’ emotions. 

Pushing the door in while holding the bananas in the crook of his arm, Shanks entered the dark cabin. Your light scent filled the cabin and the smell went straight to his cock. You had moved from your previous position, now curled up completely into a little ball at the far end of the bed. You were against the cold wall with the bathrobe from before discarded at the foot of the bed. Shanks frowned at the sight of your defensive sleeping position. He wasn’t going to sleep in the bed with you but he did want to readjust you to a more comfortable position. If the boat rocked heavily to either side you might get jostled against the wall, which wasn’t a pleasant way to wake up.

“Come on, Love,” Shanks said while pulling you towards the middle of the bed. You were warm and sweaty despite the cold air in the cabin. You jerked awake as Shanks settled you into the middle of the bed, moving your arms and ducking your head quickly to protect your face. The sight of your terrified and confused expression broke Shanks’ heart all over again. He sat on the bed next to you and tried to calm you down from whatever nightmare you’d just been experiencing. 

“Shhhh, it’s just me. You’re on the Red Force, everything is fine. You’re safe. Go back to sleep, it’s the middle of the night,” Shanks whispered into your ear. Your chest was rising and falling too rapidly as your eyes darted around the room. It looked like his words weren’t reaching you so he resumed purring. You closed your eyes again and tried to relax your stiff body but whatever you’d been dreaming about was sticking with you. He ran his arm gently over your back, far away from your scent glands. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Shanks asked quietly as his purr rumbled through his chest. He wasn’t surprised when you shook your head fervently in response to his query but Shanks didn’t mind. You were entitled to your own thoughts and feelings, and if you felt like sharing he’d be there to listen. 

To Shanks’ surprise, you sat up and scooted over to him. He stayed still, not sure what it was you were seeking. His eyebrows hiked as you sat next to him and buried your face in his neck, the vibrations of his purr on your face. He continued gently running his hands up and down your back as your scent blossomed in the cabin. The longer he purred for you, the more your scent bloomed in the small cabin, making his desire to scent you grow with each whiff of flora he inhaled deeply in his lungs.

Shanks tried to inhale as little as possible of your incredible scent, his control over himself already thin after his burst of haki earlier. Still, you seemed to find comfort in his purr, your stiff back already loosening by degrees. The longer he purred, the more his Alpha side awakened within him. Shanks felt his canine teeth elongating in preparation for a bite before he turned his head the other way, far from your tantalizing scent glands. His dominating side was roaring at him to bite you, to properly claim you, but his rational side knew you hadn’t given consent. Even if you had, you weren’t ready physically or emotionally for another Alpha after the treatment you’d gotten from your first. 

After his teeth receded, Shanks resumed slowly stroking the skin of your back, purring all the while. Eventually, you were lulled back to sleep by his soothing purr, Shanks feeling your even breath fanning across his chest. Shanks slowly extricated himself from you, leaving you a much looser pile of limbs in the middle of his bed. He covered you with a blanket, feeling a small measure of satisfaction as you gave a contented moan and snuggled in deeper to the blankets doused in his scent.

Throwing off his cloak, he laid down on the couch in his cabin for the night. He put his hand behind his head and tried to will his cock to stop twitching at every one of your breathy little sighs.

It didn’t work.

Your POV 

You woke up confused. You were very warm and no one had come to wake you via bodily harm. You hadn’t been woken up in the middle of the night by someone pulling on your chains - and actually, now that you moved around you realized you had no chains on. You were…in Shanks’ cabin. Alone. Covered by his blankets and doused in his smell as the late morning sun streamed through the window. You weren’t sure what time it was but it was definitely later than you’d slept in a long time. You blinked a few more times as your memories of the previous day came back to you - the rescue, the bath, the food, the dreams…

Shanks hadn’t been what you expected from an Alpha, and especially not an Apex Alpha. You thought he was going to join you in the bed, and take whatever he wanted from your body. Instead he’d calmed you after a nightmare, lulling you back into your dreamless sleep and settling you in his bed. He hadn’t even slept next to you, letting you take the entire bed to yourself. Surprising yourself, you had even touched him willingly, wanting to feel his strong purr, to wrap yourself up in it as securely as the blankets around your body. 

You didn’t know if that was the real Shanks or if he was putting on a show so you’d lower your defenses. He hadn’t done anything to you yet, but maybe he wanted you more pliant, more willing, than Kid had cared for. Maybe he wanted you to think you wanted him? Or maybe he was counting your mistakes to dole out punishments later? Your head spun thinking through the mind games that Shanks might be playing, each of his actions shrouded in suspicion in your mind. Either way, you’d remain vigilant, ready to do whatever he asked of you lest he hurt you like Kid had.

Alone for now, you took stock of your injuries as was your morning custom. Your neck hurt where Hongo had stitched it but that was to be expected. Your other sores ached as well but you were used to it. You hadn’t received any new injuries so all in all you were doing well as far as you were concerned. Looking around, you saw the cabin had an ensuite you hadn’t noticed the previous night. Even Kid had let you use the bathroom when you needed to, surely you could now. After relieving yourself in the small bathroom, you happened to look at your face in the mirror hanging above the bathroom sink.

You looked….rested. Purple bags still bloomed under your eyes, but there was a look of calm on your face that you hadn’t seen in a long time. The sutures from Hongo looked like they had been done well, the stitches even where he’d sewed you back together after Kid’s bite. Pulling your eyes away from the person in the mirror, you returned to your spot on the bed and hid yourself under the covers once again. You were hungry but there wasn’t any food in the cabin and you wouldn’t have eaten it without express permission anyway. 

You lost yourself in thinking about Shanks’ actions the previous day while you sat in the bed for an indeterminate amount of time. You didn’t mind, you were used to waiting without any diversions, and you had always enjoyed spending time alone. At least here you weren’t in chains or bound in an uncomfortable position. The sun shifted as the day passed, bringing the warmth of the afternoon into the cabin. The way the cabin steadily grew warmer made you glad you were naked, you would’ve been a sweaty mess by now if you had been clothed. As you lounged and absently brushed through your tangled hair with your fingers, there was a single knock on the door before it opened. You averted your gaze and brought the blankets up to cover your neck.

“Good afternoon, Sleepyhead!” Shanks said merrily, opening the door with his hip to bring in a tray of food and drink. You didn’t reply and didn’t look up, choosing the safer option of waiting for him to tell you what he wanted you to do. Even though he had been kind so far you didn’t want to push him before you knew him well enough to predict his behavior. 

“Been up for a while, then? Why didn’t you say anything or come out?” Shanks asked with genuine curiosity while holding a mug of water out to you. You extended your hand to accept it, thankful for the cool water.

“Answer me, Love. I enjoy hearing your voice. Why didn’t you let me know you were up or come out of the cabin?” he prodded gently as he handed you the mug. The truth was you weren’t going to do anything he didn’t tell you to do, but that wouldn’t satisfy the Emperor. He’d already told you he wouldn’t harm you but you weren’t sure if you could trust him. You didn’t want to risk incurring his wrath should your doubt be considered a slight against him. Instead, you gave him a half truth and hoped he’d accept it without asking anything that might put you in danger.

“No clothes,” you said in a rough voice before letting some of the water slide down your parched throat. You sighed in happiness, this was exactly what you wanted. You gripped the mug tightly, your muscles remembering a time when someone would take it away unless closely guarded.

“Ah, right. My fault for that one,” Shanks said with an easy smile as he set the tray down on the bed. You watched him amble over to his clothing pile on the floor where he began kicking it with one sandaled foot. “Go ahead and eat while I look for something for you to wear. Those need to be washed, not for you. Maybe there’s something in here,” he said while opening a chest filled with fabrics. Rummaging through them, he pulled out breezy cotton shirts, loose fitting pants, and an endless array of sashes.

“Hmm. Not sure there’s anything in here that would fit you, but we’ll give it a go. Here, try….these,” Shanks said, handing you a billowy top and hideously colored orange pants. You set the mug of water you were still sipping on the bedside table and stood up to pull the shirt over your head. It had one button that sat below your navel and the plunging neckline left your breasts completely exposed. The pants were large but you rolled the legs up a few times and they would work if you didn’t have to run anywhere. 

“Well, that won’t do. I don’t think you’d like walking around like that, yeah? Maybe I could…hold on. Lemme go check and see what’s on the ship. You sit tight here and I’ll be right back,” the Emperor said while looking at your outfit. Sitting back at the edge of the bed, you waited patiently and nibbled at the food until he returned just moments later. 

“Well, it’s a mixed bag. The good news is that we’ll be docked at an island by tomorrow and I can buy you new clothes. The bad news is I have nothing for you now, so you’re gonna have to wear these. I don’t have a lot of, oh wait…I have one long sleeved shirt I think…the one from the time with Ace…" The Emperor was talking as he threw clothes from his trunk onto the floor, the pile growing by the second. It was almost surreal, here was one of the strongest men in the world at your feet, looking through his old clothes on your behalf. He must have sensed you were watching him because he looked up and beamed at you. You didn’t know what to make of the gesture so you looked down and picked at a stain on the pants you were wearing.

“Ah well. We’ll be at an island tomorrow so we can raid their stores. Not literally though, we’ll pay for whatever you need,” Shanks said, stuffing everything back in the trunk without sorting or folding and shutting it by pushing the lid down. Your heart swelled with the thought of being on land once again, you hadn’t set foot off a ship since the day Killer had brought you to the Punk. 

“Can I go too? Please?” you asked quietly without looking up. After a moment, Shanks stood up and walked over to where you were by the bed. He put his hand on your forehead, the action causing you to flinch backward. As he touched you, the feeling of his chilly hand against your overwarm forehead felt wonderful. You leaned into his touch, practically rubbing your face into his palm. You hadn’t realized how warm you were until he touched you.

“I don’t think so, Love. You’re already getting feverish, you’re getting too close to your heat to risk going on the island. I’m not going to let anything happen, but it might make other people uncomfortable with how much scent you’re producing. So, no, Love, you’ve got to stay here for now. I don’t even want you leaving the cabin until your heat starts. There’s a few Alphas on board and it would cause stress to the crew. It’s not your fault, but it would be easier for everyone if you stayed put for now. I’ll bring you whatever you need,” Shanks said softly, his fingers skimming your cheek for a fleeting moment. 

You nodded at his statements. Logically, it made sense and you understood why the Emperor had denied your request. But…it had been so long since you’d asked for anything and you were immediately told no. You were keenly aware of your place once again while you sat with your head bowed and waited for his next command.

Shanks POV

Shanks was distraught at the Omega’s minute reaction as he told you that you had to stay on the ship. He wanted to show you the world as he saw it, a place rife with fun and adventure, not keep you in a cage like you had been before. But based on your rising body temperature, they’d dock at the island just in time for your cycle to begin. After your heat subsided, he’d take you on the island like you requested.

Your increasingly potent smell was already causing the crew agitation, even though the majority of them were Betas. Hongo had assured Shanks that once you’d started your heat and an Alpha joined you, it would be easier on everyone as your scent merged with your partners. For now, as  your pheromones taunted the noses of the crew, tension was high on the ship, tempers rising and fights breaking out over small matters.

Shanks had left the cabin to look for clothes for the Omega, thinking that maybe Beckman or Yasopp had something that would fit you. Ben liked tighter shirts and Yasopp was the shortest on the crew, so maybe they’d have something. His Alpha side had been appeased when you were wearing his clothes but they weren’t a great solution due to your more diminutive size. Walking down the deck, he heard Beckman growling while talking to Monster, something he hadn’t seen in all the years they’d been sailing together. For the crew’s sake, he had to tell the Omega to stay in the cabin.

Breaking the news to you hadn’t been easy either, your carefully schooled features concealing nearly all your sadness as he said you had to remain in his cabin. Just the slightest wobble of your lush lower lip told him you were upset about his decision, though you didn’t voice any discontent. You merely kept your gaze averted as your hands gripped the fabric of the pants you were wearing tightly in your small fists. Shanks sat down on the bed, giving you plenty of space in case you weren’t comfortable being close to him.

“It’ll be ok, don’t worry. You’ll get off the ship soon, just not now. You can be brave for a few more days, yeah?” You nodded as you moved your torso slightly closer to Shanks. Shanks looked at you with curiosity – did you genuinely want comfort from him or were you trying to guess what would satisfy him ? Shanks had seen your flinching, how you waited until you were sure what he wanted from you, how your anxious eyes tried to gauge his reaction before speaking or moving. All these fear responses were learned, and he’d work with you to slowly break you of those habits. He didn’t want you living in fear, especially not of him.

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips, a nervous habit he’d seen a few times already. Shanks’ attention was briefly diverted to your lovely mouth but he perked up his ears as you spoke again. Your words were so few that he tried to focus on everything you said.

“Who will…help me?” you asked in a small voice as you worried the fabric of his overly large shirt between your fingers. 

“Through your heat? Hmm, well that’s something we need to talk about,” Shanks said, leaning back on his elbow. It was well known that if an Omega didn’t have an Alpha for their heat it was tantamount to torture, so someone was going to have to help guide you through it.  He was trying to keep his body language as casual as possible, crossing his legs like he was lounging on a beach chair. In reality, he was barely able to contain himself from telling you that he was going to be the one with you through your heat.

“We’ll be docked at an island but I don’t feel comfortable letting an unvetted Alpha near you.  So just for this one heat, I’d like you to pick from anyone on board my ship. We’ve got a few Alphas. There’s me, Beckman and Yasopp – I know you met Beckman yesterday. And I’m happy to introduce you to Yasopp,” Shanks explained, trying not to grit his teeth. He didn’t want to influence you one way or another. 

“It would only be this one time. For your next heat we can find someone else if you’re not happy with m- with whoever you choose,” Shanks continued. He’d almost supplied himself as your Alpha accidentally, his need for you to choose him nearly overriding his thoughts. 

You bit your lip between your teeth, your foot now bouncing. Your scent had changed, the smell of fear acrid in his nose even if you weren’t using your words to tell him so. Your hand flitted up to touch the old mating bite at your neck, your fingers dancing against the stitches. Shanks gently pried your hand away; touching the newly healing wound wasn’t a good idea. Shanks squeezed your hand lightly, trying to provide comfort in a reassuring way.

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Shanks said softly, letting go of your hand to cup your cheek. You hesitantly raised your eyes to his neck but didn’t make eye contact. Shanks didn’t want to push you, you were uncomfortable enough already. 

“No one is going to hurt you. Not now, not during your heat, not after. I’ll protect you, no matter who you choose. No one is going to hurt you ever again,” Shanks said, his fingers gently pushing on the underside of your jaw. Your eyes were wide as they met his own, your fear still perfuming the cabin. Shanks could tell that you wanted to believe him, but he also knew it would be his actions that proved that he was telling the truth rather than his words. 

“Which Alpha would you like to help you?” Shanks asked, circling back to the original question. Your gaze snapped to the ground, unable to maintain eye contact with him. Silence stretched between the two of you as Shanks allowed you space to think. You wrung your hands and your jaw clenched, but no sounds came out of you. He let you think for a few minutes, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. He didn’t have much time, you were going to have to make a selection, even if it wasn’t him. Your mouth dropped open but no noise came out. Shanks understood your hesitation, perhaps you thought Shanks was testing you.

“There isn’t a right or wrong answer. We’ll work with any choice you make. But I do need you to choose. Everyone else is getting sent off the ship for your heat to avoid conflict,” Shanks said softly. Still you were silent, your heartbeat pulsing wildly at your neck. They were running out of time, much to his regret he was going to have to force the answer out of you. As a Captain and Emperor he often had to make choices that would inevitably disappoint or hurt someone for the greater good, and this was one of those times.

“I’m sorry for this, we don’t have much time,” Shanks murmured. You looked at him with wild eyes, already shrinking back and cowering in fear. 

“Tell me which Alpha you want for your heat,” Shanks Commanded softly, his hand now covering yours. Your mouth opened and closed as you unsuccessfully tried to avoid answering his query. But your biology overrode your mind and you cleared your throat to answer. 

“Y-you, Emperor,” you whispered, your raspy voice barely audible. Shanks’ alpha side wanted to crow in delight, to revel in the fact that you’d chosen him. But a small persistent doubt soured your hesitant declaration. Did you really want him ? Or were you just trying to please him as the Captain and Apex Alpha? Did you really feel you had a choice? Shanks wished he could find out the answers to his questions but he suspected pressing you would just cause further distress. Shanks sought to soothe you after the confession he’d wrung from you.

“Thank you for trusting me. I’ll do everything I can to make this as easy as possible,” Shanks said, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. Hongo had told him you might want privacy as your heat built and he wanted to give you plenty of time to make your nest. Shanks put his hand on his knee in preparation for standing, but his eyebrows hiked as you rested your small hand on top of his own. To his knowledge, this was the first time you’d touched him of your own volition.

“I’m s-scared,” you admitted, your long hair covering your face as you looked down at the cabin floor. Shanks burned with the desire to pull you into his lap and kiss you until you felt secure in his ability to protect you. He shifted a little closer to you, but didn’t remove your hand from atop his own.

“This will be my first time with an Omega in heat, we’ll both be new to this. We’ll go through it together, figure out how to help you,” Shanks said reassuringly. He wasn’t scared, but he was worried that your experience was going to further traumatize you if he didn’t go about it the right way. You gave a miniscule nod.

“Afterward…after the heat…am I…can I go…” You’d let the question dangle but Shanks knew you were asking if you’d get to assimilate into society. Another disappointment to come your way, Shanks thought, at least for the foreseeable future. He still couldn’t think of a way to give you freedom while also keeping you safe from slavers and Celestial Dragons. 

“No, Love. You can’t go back to Beta Island,” Shanks said, his fingers interlacing with your smaller ones. “You’ve been identified as an Omega now, it wouldn’t be safe. There’s a lot of people who would hurt you if given a chance. I can’t let that happen. If you want to be safe, you need to stay here with me,” Shanks explained, his chest tightening as he thought about your previous treatment. Your face paled immediately at his words and you reached for him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling gingerly almost as if in supplication.

“N-no, please Emperor, don’t leave me. Please let m-me stay,” you bleated out. He pulled you into a loose hug, careful not to startle you with any quick movements. Your fingers curled into his shirt, your cheek rubbing against his chest as you pushed yourself closer to him.

“Of course you can stay, Love, don’t worry. We’ll get everything sorted after your heat,” Shanks murmured into your hair. “You’ll be with me for as long as you’d like, I would never turn you away.”

You moved slightly, slowly shifting yourself until you were sitting on his lap as if giving him time to stop you. Shanks didn’t move, waiting to see what you would do. Obviously, his Alpha side was elated to have the attention of an Omega, especially one so close to heat. Your face was pressed against his chest, though now you were angling your nose higher. You wrapped your shaking arms around him, your hands unable to meet behind his broad back. Shanks wrapped his own arm around you, rubbing your back in comfort.

“Thank you, Emperor,” you said into his chest. Shanks just hummed, his hand pausing in the middle of your back. He hadn’t really done anything tremendous for you, he hadn’t even known you were on Kid’s ship before you were brought to him. There was a lot he wanted to do for you, to help you acclimate back to a normal life, but that would have to come after your heat. 

“You s-saved my life, I was going to d-die on that ship,” you whispered. Shanks felt tears running down his chest, you were crying silently in his arms. If he hadn’t felt your tears on his skin he wouldn’t have guessed – you were completely quiet, your chest wasn’t even shaking. You were right, Kid would have killed you had you remained with him. He’d check in with Dorry and Broggy and make sure Kid made it safely to the bottom of the ocean.

“Can’t say that I know what to do. I wasn’t expecting you to join us. But we’ll figure it out together. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said softly. He removed his hand from your side, gently tipping your face up to meet his own.

“You can be upset, or angry, or happy, or whatever you want. You don’t have to hide yourself anymore. Nothing is going to change the way I fe- that I’ll protect you. OK?” he said, his thumb rubbing the underside of your chin. You searched his face for a moment before giving him a shaky nod. 

“And please, call me Shanks,” he said with a sunny smile. The corners of your own mouth quirked up, just for a moment before settling back to your usual fearful frown. But for Shanks it felt like he’d found a treasure chest full of gold. You took a shuddering breath, your eyes trained on your trembling hands in front of you.

“ ‘M sorry,” you said so quietly that Shanks thought he misheard you.

“You’re sorry? What could you be sorry for?” Shanks asked, skimming his knuckles on the back of your hand. Truly, what on the seas were you apologizing for?

“I’m a big hassle, you’re doing so m-much for me. I can’t p-pay you back,” you said, a slight hitch in your breath the only indication that you’d been crying. Shanks wanted to kiss you deeply, to show you with his body how he felt inside. But he didn’t think you’d be open to that right now given your emotional state.

“You don’t need to pay me back. And none of this is a hassle. I’m glad we found you,” he said softly.

“D-do you want to?” you asked, your gaze leaving him to look at a far wall.

“Do I want what? For you to stay here?” Shanks asks, confused by your non sequitur question.

“Do you want to b-be my Alpha? For the heat,” you whispered, biting your lips after your query. Shanks nearly laughed at such a sweet question but wisely held it in. Even after everything that had happened to you, you worried if you were coercing him into going through heat with you. Shanks was fairly sure that any Alpha on the grandline would give their left arm to go through a heat with an Omega like yourself.

“I do, Sweets. Of course I do, with such a resilient, kind, empathetic Omega. Don’t worry, you’re not twisting my arm,” he said, wiggling his stump a little. A rough sound left your throat, making your eyes widen with surprise. You had laughed. You nuzzled back into the crook of his neck, as if embarrassed by the noise you’d made. Shanks wondered if you hadn’t heard yourself laugh since your vocal chords were destroyed, maybe you hadn’t been expecting the change in your own voice. He found it enchanting and wanted to make you laugh many times over.

“I didn’t always sound like this. I used to have a nice voice,” you rasped into his shoulder.

“You still have a nice voice. I like the way you sound,” Shanks mused, his fingernails gently stroking your back. You stayed quiet for a few moments longer, your warm breath tickling his neck. You looped your arms around him again, pulling yourself even closer to him. You tilted your face up, your features not filled with fear or anxiety. Instead your eyes were soft as you looked at his own, the first you’d done so willingly since he’d met you.

“Thank you, Shanks.”

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[hannahbarberra162]

Fully Human Art by @gouraminnow

Y'all we've been blessed by delicious art by @gouraminnow. Enjoy their renditions of Space Marco and Space Thatch as much as I have (look at them all the time). Thank you so much for creating these, they really fill my heart with joy <3

They saw the (poorly described) vision and they ran with it. Thank you!!!!

[hannahbarberra162]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WHAT CAN I DO SO I CAN HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER OF “Not My Monkey” IT’S SUCH A GOOD FANFIC

THANK YOU NONNIE!!!

You don't have to do anything!! I love that fic a lot - it's one of my favorites that I've written. I already started the next chapter, and it's filled with more silliness and dumb jokes. I am trying to write a bunch of different fics but I assure you I haven't forgotten that one. It's my labor of love for sure <3

[hannahbarberra162]

Fully Human, Chapter 5 (Sci Fi AU, Marco x Reader, dark, dead dove, non con, humans as pets)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | the other chapters

Thank you to @tryingandfailingtowrite and @moldychefboyardeecan for their help in keeping me on track <3

I'm not sure if I did a good job explaining what WB looks like but imagine the rock titan from Hercules (Lythos) but with only one head. Kinda like that.

YES I'm writing other things too.

Your POV

You pounded on the bubble and yelled Marco’s name as you watched him leave the room. He didn’t even give you so much as a backwards glance, just turned on his talons and left. You had been scared shitless when the bubble appeared. You didn’t know that such a thing existed, much less that he’d be trapping you inside of one. It was darkening rapidly, your ability to see what was outside the bubble diminishing by the second. Not only that but it wasn’t letting much light in, either. Artificial night descended on you rapidly and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Your breaths came in short pants as black dots swam in your vision. This was ok, you’d be ok, you’d be ok. You just needed to pop it somehow and the light would return.

You tried everything you could think of – pounding your fists against it, trying to pop it with your fingernails, pushing against it, even biting it. Nothing worked, you couldn’t get out of that stupid bubble. You didn’t want to yell too much in case it brought more beings into his quarters – you didn't want to attract more attention now that Marco wasn’t there to intercede on your behalf. 

After trying to pop the bubble unsuccessfully, you decided to lie down on the bed to try and relax. You were tired after the events thus far and there wasn’t anything else you could do for the moment. You tried not to think about how dark it was in the bubble, how the walls seemed to be closing in on you, how your eyes strained to see anything on the outside. Would you be safe? What if Marco was going to give you to his innumerable brothers, like he said? What if they hurt you like Thatch had -- or worse? You began imagining different scenarios, each one worse than the last.

You realized your nails were digging into your palms so strongly that they were nearly puncturing your skin. Your forehead was clammy and your heart was skittering in your chest. You needed to calm down. Nothing had happened, you were still OK. Being anxious wasn’t going to help your situation. Using the same techniques you used when Nacl’s ship was in deep space, you closed your eyes and breathed in through your nose and exhaled out your mouth. It almost worked, your breathing more normal than it had been.

You decided to close your eyes in the hope that sleep would quell your fear of the dark. It wasn’t a welcoming bed; the mattress felt like cold rock and there weren’t any blankets other than the ones you already had. You spied one pillow, which you grabbed and shoved under your head. It was fairly comfortable, though not as fluffy as you wished it was. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried to push everything out of your mind.

You focused on relaxing your muscles, beginning with your toes. Little by little you were able to get your limbs to loosen, your body and mind relaxing after your never ending ordeal. As you laid in the bed, it became more comfortable as if molding itself to your body. It wasn’t made of metal or rock like you’d suspected, but an extremely thick goo that seemed to be activated by your body heat. The goo fit around your body closely, cushioning you with surprising comfort. Now that it wasn’t rock solid, this was maybe the best mattress you’d ever slept on. The beds on lafftale were made of leftover fabric scraps and the ones on the merchant ship were metal. This, however, was something you could get used to. You would need more energy for when Marco would return, you had no doubt that he would want to continue his fucked up experiments on you. You rationalized to yourself that it was OK to rest for a while, you could enjoy the comfort that the bed was providing.

You were asleep before your next thought.

“Stop, Sol,” you mumbled to the hand that was shaking your arm gently, though the fingers were gripping you a little too tightly. Why was Sol bothering you so early? There was still plenty of time to sleep before chores, she didn’t need to bother you now. The insistent hand shook you again, more firmly this time. You tried yanking your arm away but she wasn’t budging.

“Sol, stoppit. Lemme sleep,” you grumbled louder this time. You were determined not to let your sister wake you up, this was the most comfortable rest you’d ever had on Lafftale. You tried to yank your arm away from Sol but she had your arm in a vice. Actually, she was hurting you now, her grip tightening painfully on your upper arm. But…Sol wasn’t stronger than you -  A low hiss like two rocks scraping together resounded in your ears. Your mind stumbled over the noise, the sound incongruent until your mind finally pieced together where you were. The bubble, Marco, the examination – and now someone was in it with you.

Your first reaction was to curl into a tight ball and try to cover your head with your arms to protect yourself. But the hand on your upper arm didn’t let you move as you desired, forcing you to remain unguarded. You heard another soft hiss, the fingers now gripping you so hard you’d definitely be bruised. You cracked open your eyes and peeked out from between your arms. Looking up, you saw that the bubble had disappeared, revealing Thatch sitting on the side of the bed next to you. He was looking down at you with an intense stare and continued to hiss at you, his forked tongue flicking out of his mouth as he spoke. 

Even though Thatch’s grip was hurting you, based on what you remembered in the examination room that probably wasn’t his intention. If anything, you were worried he was going to try and fuck you in Marco’s bed. Maybe you could show him that he was causing you pain and he’d release your arm. It was worth a try.

You sat up and put your palm over his own, his hand surprisingly warm for being scaled. He stared you in the eyes, emitting a long hiss. Despite his probable thoughts, you willed him to understand this wasn’t sexual. His mouth frowned as your tiny fingers pried his much larger ones off slowly, one by one. He acquiesced to your unspoken desires, removing his hand from your arm completely after the first few fingers. You looked over your arm, dark bruises already forming in the shape of his fingers. Rubbing your skin where he’d grabbed you, you tried to give him a pathetic look to show that he’d injured you. His tongue flicked over his snout as if in thought, his eyes roving over your minor injuries. 

After a moment, Thatch started  hissing in varying tones and gesturing vaguely with his hands. You weren’t sure what Marco had told him to do specifically, and you didn’t want to get in trouble again if he felt you were disobeying orders. To quell any potential misunderstandings about your compliance, you turned your head and bent your ear to show him that you no longer had a translator. Another hiss came from him, and he reached to grab you again. You jolted back, not wanting to be touched or fucked or grabbed or whatever else it was he wanted to do to you.

Thatch slowed his movements, his tone more placating than it had been before. He slowly brought his hand back towards the bedside table, as if showing you he wasn’t going to harm you. He was treating you like a wild animal caught in a trap, like you’d bolt if he moved too quickly. Thatch grabbed a plate you hadn’t seen before, piled with unappetizing brown mush. He reached to hand the plate to you, his reptilian eyes watching you with keen interest. 

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. Marco had told Thatch to cook for you but you were incredibly nervous. Marco had said a lot of misinformation about humans but he did get one fact correct – there were many foods you couldn’t eat without risking serious health issues. On your previous ship you’d eaten only Baratie meal replacement bars, the small rectangles a sure bet not to kill you since you could be certain of the high quality ingredients. They were expensive but at least you knew you wouldn’t die, the high price worth your piece of mind. You remembered that Marco had sent a list of unsafe foods to Thatch but what if he made you something that wasn’t on the list but was still unsafe? You couldn’t ask him right now, and Marco wasn’t around to heal you if you needed it. Your mouth watered at the sight of the food even as your brain worried that it would kill you.

Thatch reached to hand you the plate but you shrunk back. You were too nervous to eat it, regardless of whatever it was Thatch had prepared. Thatch clicked his tongue at you in a clear show of rebuke and reached forward to hand your the plate again. Your stomach chose that exact moment to gurgle in protest, making its presence known. You hoped that Thatch hadn’t heard but his eyes opened wider with interest, his head tilting to the side. His hand went to touch his controller – was he going to tell Marco you weren’t complying?

Hoping to mollify him and avoid another spanking, you reached out for the plate with shaky hands. You were hungry and you didn’t like wasting food, so you’d have to take a chance on whatever the brown mush was. Your arms dropped once you grasped the plate, finding it much heavier than you were expecting. Thatch’s hands shot out, grabbing the plate so that it didn’t fall. He took it from you and set it in front of where you were sitting on the bed. 

You were ready to eat but was he going to give you any cutlery or…? You pantomimed that you wanted a utensil with which to eat, bringing your hand to your mouth as if holding a fork. But Thatch just nodded eagerly at you, he must have thought you were asking if it was food. Well, duh, it was food of some kind. How dumb did they think you were? You were taking too long by his standards because he plucked one of the brown bits off the plate and held it in front of your mouth. You licked your lips as your heart skittered in your chest. You reached for it with your fingers, only to hear another click and Thatch to pull it away. You frowned, realizing he wanted to feed it to you. 

You parted your lips hesitantly, only for Thatch to pop the piece of food in. You quickly closed your mouth, not wanting to give him any ideas of sticking his fingers in like Marco had before. Chewing and eating the food was an interesting experience . It was kind of dry and wet at the same time, crunchy but also soft. It didn’t have much flavor, maybe a hint of savory broth and saltiness, but it wasn’t completely inedible either. It wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had, but you could choke it down.

You reached down for another bite, grabbing more with your fingers and tossing the strange food into your mouth. Thatch gave you an encouraging click, to which you glared. You knew how to feed yourself, this wasn’t a feat. By the time you’d chewed and swallowed your first few bites, you didn’t care about the texture or taste. Once you started eating, you realized you were starving. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you’d last eaten but whatever Thatch served you was palatable enough for your stomach. You pinched more between your two fingers, shoving it into your mouth. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled to Thatch after swallowing the bite. His attention hadn’t wavered in the slightest, he was watching you like you were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. It was unnerving to have someone staring at you while you ate but you did you best to ignore him. You ate quickly, not enjoying the feeling of being watched and giving periodic hissing commentary, even if you couldn’t understand it. You ate rapidly, finding the food easy to eat quickly. Once you were done, you pushed the plate away from yourself. There was still a lot left on the plate but if you ate any more, you’d burst.

Thatch made a loud rasp once you were done and reached out slowly for the plate. He took it back from you, hissing loudly as if pleased with your efforts. Now that your stomach was full, you wanted to lay down again. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten so fast, you thought in retrospect. Thatch grabbed a cup of liquid off the table, pushing it against your lips. You took a sip, it tasted like water. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t but you were suddenly too tired to care. 

Your eyelids were heavy now, your body swaying with an unnatural drowsiness. Your head lolled to the side and another hiss escaped from Thatch. This wasn’t normal lethargy, you thought as Thatch hovered over you. You tried to keep your eyes open, to focus on Thatch as he loomed over you. Your mind tried to rile your body to action, but all you could do was curl up back on the bed, your eyelids heavy. Your eyes closed and the last thing you remembered was Thatch pulling the covers up to your neck.

Marco POV

Marco stood outside Pops’ room, checking his controller for your vitals. He’d been checking your vitals every few minutes, the real time data comforting him that you were alive in his absence. He didn’t know how you’d managed to survive without someone monitoring your care - you were always frightened, always scared. Marco knew you’d fallen asleep by the easy rate of your heart but something had frightened you, causing a rapid spike. Thatch had told Marco he was on his way to Marco's room so he sent a message to Thatch on their private message line, just to make sure all was well. 

Marco: Is she alright? I got a notification that her heartrate spiked.

Thatch: She was sleeping when I came in and wasn’t anticipating me waking her up. She startled awake but ate the food I brought her.

Marco: Excellent, thank you. How did she tolerate the food?

Thatch: I was concerned because she initially refused the food but then a gurgling sound emanated from her. I nearly contacted you, I was worried something was wrong. But then she ate most of the serving, she seemed to enjoy it immensely. I made too much – I forgot how small she is. Marco huffed out his nose. Already testing more boundaries like the tricky little human you were. He clicked his tongue out loud as if you were there to hear the reprimand.

Marco: Human stomachs emit noise when they’re hungry, it’s normal for her. Like I said, humans will lie about their needs and wants. This is a perfect example – she refused the food even though she was hungry. You did well to insist she eat .

Thatch: Interesting. I’ll keep that in mind for the future. She repeated the same word a few times as she woke - Sol? I’m not sure what it means, my translator couldn’t determine anything. Marco typed the word into his notes - he’d ask you about it later, along with several other questions he'd gathered over the course of his time with you. Maybe Sol was something important to you that he could use as leverage for your compliance. He really should get to his meeting but his need to know about your current situation was not yet satisfied.

Marco: What is she doing now?

Thatch: She’s asleep again, curled up in your bed. I gave her the narcotics like you asked, they worked nearly immediately. Such a cute little thing [pic attached]. Marco’s heart warmed at the thought of you sleeping in his bed. He had asked Thatch to drug you to sleep using some harmless medications he’d found in his lab. They wouldn’t keep you asleep long, just enough time for Marco to talk to Pops, gather supplies and finish his tasks before returning to you. After this conversation he was going to do a few modifications to you and would prefer if you were not awake for the process. He’d complete them either way, he didn’t need your permission by any means. But the process was rather unpleasant and it would be easier to complete if you weren’t resisting or fearful.

Marco: Thank you again, brother. I wouldn’t trust another with her nutrition. Marco could practically hear his brother’s proud hiss as he received the complimentary message. But Marco wasn’t just complimenting his brother out of courtesy, he trusted Thatch more than any other chef he'd ever met. He trusted him enough to help care for you .

With that, Marco closed the conversation on his controller. He opened the picture attachment Thatch had sent, nearly cooing at the image it displayed. You were indeed curled up in his bed, the mattress much larger than your tiny body. Your fingers were curled around the emergency blanket, making him wonder if it was warm enough in the room for you. He’d adjusted the temperature to the optimal sleeping temperature for humans, but it could vary between humans. Marco wished he was lying next to you, your back flush against his front to warm you, your soft skin against his own. Soon. 

Closing the image, he knocked on Pops’ massive steel door.

“Enter, my son,” Pops boomed from within. Marco had been in Pops’ room innumerous times – his relationship with his Captain spanning many galactic cycles and was proud to be a Whitebeard Commander. Pops was reclining in his massive chair, his eyes bright with interest. Pops was from an old lineage of beings, nearly gone in this age. Whitebeard was a Titan, a colossal being made of moving slabs of naginatite, the strongest mineral in the known galaxies. He respected Pops’ decisions, both as Captain and as his adoptive father. Marco desperately wanted to keep you, but he would abide by whatever Pops decided. 

“Marco, I haven’t heard from you since that merchant ship was sent on its way,” Pops said in his gravelly voice. 

“I have news yoi,” Marco said, wanting to cut right to the heart of the matter. 

“I found a human on that crew. I already detained and examined her. She’s healthy and in breeding range.” Pops shifted in his chair as he thought through the implications of Marco’s statements. Some sediment fell to the floor, but that wasn’t unusual.

“What percent?” Pops asked, the massive slabs of minerals that comprised his body clacking against each other in interest.

“100%. She’s fully human,” Marco said, trying to maintain a cool and detached attitude. Yes, Marco wanted you, but right now he had to act in the best interest of the Whitebeard Pirates, not just for his own personal gain. 

“Were there any other humans aboard the ship?” 

“No. Just her, the rest were commonly found species yoi. She had disguised herself as a Three Eyes, but the scanner picked up her hDNA percentage.” Whitebeard was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts as he stroked the white rocks above his mouth. 

“Where did she come from?” Marco sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He wished he had more answers to give Pops.

“I’m not sure. Based on how I found her and her general demeanor, it is clear she wasn’t owned by any other masters previously. I haven’t able to extract information from her yet. Her translator was external and poorly installed. I had to remove it to heal the infected implantation site. I will be installing another shortly.” Pops continued stroking his mustache, contemplating Marco’s announcement. 

“I saw a human once, many cycles ago. Small thing, slept a lot,” Pops mused. “We need to find out more. Where she’s from, if there are more humans, why was she on that ship, what her plans were,” Whitebeard intoned. Marco nodded, he’d planned on getting that information out of you as well.

“Where is she now?”

“My quarters. She’s sleeping,” Marco’s voice tightened with his admission, swallowing the question he wanted to ask. He wanted to know if he could keep you, if he could be your master. He didn’t want to sway Pops in any direction, assured that Whitebeard would do what  benefitted the crew as a whole. 

“Are you her master then?” Pops asked with a hint of amusement in his tone. Marco bristled slightly but told his Captain the truth.

“For now. I’d like to remain her Master, if you’ll allow it. Humans have always been a special interest of mine, I do feel that between my knowledge of humans and my medical knowledge I am the best equipped to take care of her. Humans are very fragile and I’m worried some of my brothers will accidentally injure her without proper education.”

“I remember your interest, my son. Finally all those articles and videos came in handy,” Pops said with a knowing smile. “And about breeding her?” Marco forced his face to remain neutral. 

“Well…I’d like that too. I tested her limits and she should be able to take a number of the Commanders, but some are too large. It would be a privilege to breed with her,” Marco replied honestly, his feathers ruffling as he spoke. Marco didn’t want to share you with anyone , but he wasn’t the only member of a dying species on board. His face must have shown his apprehension because small rocks fell off Pops’ shoulders as he laughed heartily.

“GURAHAHAHA Keep your human, Marco. You can share her as you see fit, I trust you. From what I remember, humans are social creatures. So if there’s one, there’s more. Your brothers can begin the hunt for their own once we get information from her,” Pops said. 

“Thank you, Pops,” Marco said quickly, his shoulders loosening with the knowledge he wouldn’t have to share his prize. With Pops’ permission to keep you as his personal pet, Marco’s anxiety decreased significantly. Now he could focus on acclimating you to life as his pet, guiding and preparing you for how things would be for the rest of your life. You had quite a bit of training ahead of you, and Marco was excited to be the one to provide it. He hoped you’d settle into a peaceful life, your sadness and fear finally abating as you realized you were safe with him.

“Perhaps I’ll have some grandchildren soon,” Pops said, a wistful look on his face. If Marco had been a human like you, he would have flushed. Marco loved his Captain, would die for him, but did not want to discuss procreation with his father figure. Marco cleared his throat.

“We’ll find the rest of the humans yoi. I’ll get her talking.” 

Taglist: @rebeccawinters @mfreedomstuff @joyfullittlethings

[hannahbarberra162]

Cowboy Thatch art by @jk--47

Huge thank you to @jk--47 for drawing the most handsome, beefy, biteable cowboy Thatch from my fic Rural Medicine and alien Thatch from Fully Human. I actually have these downloaded to my phone and computer and look at them a lot more than I probably should. Can you blame me???

And shirtless and fucking charming I can't look at him too much or I explode. THE FUCKING HAT TIP

[hannahbarberra162]

Is uncomfortably numb part 4 cancelled?

Hi! It isn't cancelled! I will be honest, Law's not my man so I seldom feel tempted to write him.

That being said, I am going through and trying to finish fics that only have 1-2 more chapters left. I've started a few already. That includes:

Uncomfortably Numb

Crocodile's Gambit

Mating Call

Emperor's Prize

Heat Transfer

Snow Fall

A Negative Outcome

Wow that's a lot.

So yes, it will be done eventually. I have so much I want to write but life isn't just putting Marco in various Situations unfortunately.

[hannahbarberra162]

if i make an omegaverse based on ur omegaverse for emperor's prize im gonna write shanks as the omega and have him get fucked crazy style to balance out your dominant alpha shanks

Hi! I combined all of these into one since they're about the same topic I hope that's OK! You're welcome to write in the AU! The only requirement is that Shanks is a pathetic loser like I know he is.

Just kidding, you can write him however you'd like! Give him a pussy, make him an Omega, make him cry, make him beg, do whatever you want! Tag me when you're done!

If it makes you feel better I'm writing a little treat for all the Nonnies who ask for nice Alpha Shanks.

[hannahbarberra162]

Rural Medicine, Chapter 2 (Thatch x Reader, fluff with some angst, modern AU)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | the other chapters

Thank you to @jk--47 for beta-ing this work! I keep adding to the plot and I'm not sure anyone cares but me but I love cowboy Thatch and no one can stop me. Huge thank you to @flyingbanananas for helping me fix one of the scenes with your wonderful suggestions!

A/N: IK you can’t get a transfusion at urgent care, this is fiction. Also don’t be like Sabo, go to the ER if you have internal bleeding.

Three grueling hours later and rounds were finally done. Normally rounds were over in about an hour or so, but Dr. Crocus wouldn’t shut the fuck up about every single disease  presentation that each patient had. And of course, because you were the resident and he was the attending, you had to dutifully listen to what he said and answer all his questions that were designed to slip you up. That in itself was ok, you had attendings like that before. No, the worst part was that of course Dr. Crocus knew Marco’s father. And of course he’d met Marco when he was younger. So of course Marco got to be buddy buddy with the attending while you followed behind them like a stray dog. You didn’t really know what Marco’s father did, but everyone seemed to know him. Probably some big shot in the government or something. 

Once you were finally free from rounds, you grabbed your phone to check for new messages. Your heart raced as you saw an unread message from Thatch from earlier that morning.

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: It’s a date :)

You didn’t mean to leave him on read for so long, so you typed out a quick response. It wasn’t that you were ignoring him, you really couldn’t always be on your phone.

You: Great! I’ll meet you at Shakky’s at 8?  

Shakky’s was the local rip off bar but you generally liked the vibes there. It was a little rough and tumble but nothing you couldn’t handle. You’d treated one of Shakky’s bartenders at the Urgent Care and sometimes he’d slip you a free drink as repayment. Thatch started replying right away, which made you smile. It was nice to text with someone who wasn’t playing the game. 

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: U sure u don’t want me to pick u up? U could be my passenger princess.

Ok, that idea had appeal. He did know where you lived…but no. You didn’t really know him and if things got awkward you would want to drive yourself home. If things went well, then next time you’d sit pretty while he drove you places. The thought of relaxing while someone else drove you nearly had you sighing in happiness. 

You: Not this time, but I appreciate the offer. I have to go back to work but I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night.

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: Me too ;) 

You walked back to the resident lounge with a bounce in your step. You had a long way to go before you were free for the night, at least you had something to look forward to. Even if Thatch did use emoticons like an old man.

Hours later and you were dragging your feet into the Urgent Care for your last shift of the week. You closed your eyes as you grabbed the handle to the staff door and wished upon every star you could think of that there wouldn’t be anyone in the waiting room for you.

Wrong.

You mentally groaned as you peeked into the waiting room on your way to a patient room and saw a few familiar faces. You’d told some of these ranchers that you weren’t a primary care office, that they needed to go to their regular doctor and not see you every month. They were not only ignoring your advice to establish care with a primary care doctor but also ignored most of your medical advice as well. You didn’t really expect anything else from gruff farmers, but you did wish they took their medications regularly.

And oh come on, Ace was in the waiting room too? You’d just treated him the other day, how did he keep – whatever. You took a deep breath and mentally prepared for the bullshit you were about to hear. 

About two hours later and you’d given Fossa a requisition for lab work, Blenheim got a referral to podiatry, Haruta got a prescription for antibiotics for a nasty bite, Jiru got a referral for a sleep study, and you gave Rakuyo a referral for physical therapy. 

The only person left was Ace. 

You pushed the door to the exam room open to see his smiling face. You tried glaring at him but a smile cracked through as he beamed at you. Ace was one of your favorite idiots. You couldn’t imagine how he’d injured himself again but the stories were always pretty funny. This time there was another man with him wearing a top hat, ruffled shirt, and trim waistcoat. Considering Ace didn’t wear a shirt, they made an interesting pair.

“Hi, Ace. What are you in for this time?” you asked, sitting down on the stool by the computer.

“Not me, actually. I brought my brother Sabo here to see you,” he said with a bright grin. Oh? The blonde was his brother? You mentally shrugged, you didn’t give a single shit about people’s family connections or their familial resemblances. 

“How often are you here?” the blonde asked his brother, his eyebrow arching. Ace’s smile widened.

“Enough that she knows me on sight. What can I say? I'm a memorable person and being a park ranger is dangerous work,” Ace said, tossing his brother a smirk. 

“Why don’t you ask Ma-”

“Alright, how can I help you?” you asked as you scanned his file. You wanted them gone so you could have an easy night finishing your notes and finally collapsing in your bed. Looking back at the patient, you could have sworn you’d met him before. But you’d remember meeting someone with that kind of facial scarring if only for the fact that you wondered how he kept his vision with an injury so severe.

“Have I seen you somewhere?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. “Oh I know,” you said with a snap of your fingers. “Aren’t you that Revolutionary guy who keeps fighting the World Government but hasn’t gotten captured? The one with all the wanted posters?” 

“Hey! You can’t ask those kinds of questions! Doctor’s secrecy or whatever!” Ace sputtered, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Yes. I can,” you said with an eye roll. You weren’t taking advice from someone who met a “friendly” porcupine the previous week – which left you removing the needles for an hour. Besides, the laws meant you couldn't reveal how you met Sabo, not if you already recognized him.

“That’s me!” Sabo said with a dazzling smile. Oh, they were brothers alright. Charming, charismatic, idiotic, hot brothers. “You’ve seen my work?”

“Uh, didn’t you set fire to that animal testing facility a few months ago after freeing the test subjects?” you asked, briefly scanning his medical history.

“Yep!” That had made you ecstatic actually, the experiments the Marines did there were completely unethical. You’d done a one month internship there in college and what you had seen still gave you nightmares. Sabo could have a few extra tests on the house as far as you were concerned.

“Next time go for the loan office,” you said with a half smile.

“So how can I help you?” you asked, rolling your stool over to him. Sabo lifted up his ruffled shirt to reveal a nasty bruise over his trunk. As an ER doctor you’d seen a lot of things, but never a patient with that amount of bruising who was in such a chipper mood. You quickly snapped on gloves and asked Sabo to lie back on the table. You gingerly touched his bruises, surprised he wasn’t wincing or even showing discomfort. The only time he twitched was when you palpated his broken ribs.

“Well, you’ve broken a few ribs and a lot of internal bleeding. I’m sending you to the emergency room-”

“No,” Sabo said, his smile unfaltering. Of course. Of course Ace’s brother would be just as difficult as he was. But in this case it made sense – if Sabo went to the hospital he’d be arrested by the Marines for his numerous crimes against the World Government. Adjusting your stethoscope you thought for a minute to determine the best course of action. The doctor in you couldn’t let him leave without some kind of medical care, even if it meant going beyond what the Urgent Care was meant to treat.

“Do you want to know how I got injured? It’s kind of a funny story actually,” Sabo said conversationally, interrupting your train of thought. Your eyes flicked over to the lead pipe in the corner that had red stains on the bottom. It might be better if you didn't know.

“I’m good. Ok, listen. I’m going to give you an xray here for the ribs and some pain medication to take the edge off. You need a transfusion for your significant blood loss. You need medical attention somewhere, like a hospital,” you stated. Sabo gave you an unblinking smile. You sighed. He wasn’t going to a hospital. 

You pursed your lips – Sabo wasn’t going to the hospital, that was clear. Really, by law you should be calling the authorities and have him arrested. But in your good conscience you couldn’t let him leave like this. Despite his good nature and surprisingly robust constitution, Sabo was at a critical point in his bleeding. And you did like the Revolutionary Army and what they stood for, you wouldn’t let their golden boy die from internal bleeding. You could fudge the charts a little and say it was Ace who was getting the transfusion. He had enough medical maladies that something like a transfusion wouldn’t be a surprise. Thinking it over in your head for a minute, you decided to do the right thing.

 “I can do it here-”

“Thank you! See, I told you she was good. And you were afraid she was going to call the Marines,” Ace said, bowing slightly. This fucking guy.

“Was not! Chopper said that she’s the doc to see for situations like this,” You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled slowly. You didn’t care at the moment how they knew Chopper, he had a pretty wide social circle anyway.

“I can do it here, but this isn’t the best facility. Ace, I’m saying you’re the one getting the transfusion so I don’t get fired for helping a fugitive. It’ll take one to three hours and you’ll need to follow up with me in a few days. I’ll give you my cell number and I can meet you somewhere else,” you explained. Both brothers grinned at you. Definitely related.

“Thank you, I owe you an incredible favor. I know urgent care isn’t the correct facility for such procedures and that you are risking your license over such a matter,” Sabo said with a hand over his heart. He spoke a lot like some of the nobles you had treated a few times, but how could that be if he was Ace’s brother? A mystery for another time when you weren’t on the clock and violating the law.

“Yeah, yeah. Send my bill to the Revolutionary Army.”

Two hours later and you were finally done at the Urgent Care. It had only taken about an hour and a half for Sabo’s transfusion to run but you also had notes to do and a final patient to see. You urged Sabo to come back a few days later so you could check on him and make sure he wasn’t dead. Outside of Sabo, you felt like all these ranchers were telling each other to come to you, that you’d do all the work they needed without the hassle of having a primary care doctor. You didn’t mind treating them, but you were exhausted. You looked at your watch, it was almost 10 PM on a Friday night. Perfect time to faceplant into your bed and not wake up until late afternoon. 

Which is exactly what you did. 

When you woke up the next day, you were surprised to see it was only noon. There was still plenty of time to get some errands done before getting ready for your date. You took a long, luxurious shower, running through your mental list of everything you needed to get done that day. 

After finishing your shower, you threw a load of dirty clothes into the washing machine. You were unsure when you last had the time to run more than your lab coats and underwear but based on the smell, it had been a while. Humming to yourself, you looked over at the closet full of clothes you seldom had the opportunity to wear. The weather was warm so you threw on a cute sundress and hit the road, prioritizing what you needed to get done. 

Your first order of business was obviously getting a gigantic cup of coffee. You settled for getting one at the gas station after filling your nearly empty tank. You inhaled the aroma and sighed in happiness. It wasn’t a fancy latte but your heart loved gas station coffee. Maybe it was because your medical school had been across the street from a gas station and you’d spent many breaks between classes guzzling the cheap brew. You did not harbor the same eternal love for gas station taquitos – after a few too many eaten hot off the rollers you couldn’t even look at them anymore. 

Once your car was fueled, you made your way over to Whole Cake Foods. It was cheaper than the other grocery store in town, All Blue. You’d stopped in All Blue once and walked right back out once you saw they were selling 2200 Beri protein shakes. Definitely not in your price bracket at the moment. You went down the middle aisles, grabbing the standard fare that you usually ate. It was mostly frozen food or food you could make quickly, like ramen. You didn’t bother getting anything fresh, all your fruits and vegetables went bad before you could eat them. It wasn’t that you liked eating like shit, you didn’t have the time or energy to cook anything else. 

It didn’t take you long to finish your shopping, hopping back into your car to go across town for one more errand. Checking the time, you’d be able to get this done and head back to your house in time to eat and get ready for your date. You just had to stop by the hardware store and pick up a few new lightbulbs and a step ladder to replace a bunch of bulbs that burned out at Kureha’s. You’d been meaning to do it for forever, it was so annoying to have to use the bathroom light when you needed light in your bedroom. 

You drove over to Water Seven and quickly grabbed what you needed. You couldn’t remember what wattage your bulbs were so you picked lightbulbs that looked the most like the ones in the house. Did it matter if they were 60 watts or 120? Weren’t all lightbulbs the same? Whatever, you were a doctor, not an electrician. Looking at your phone, you saw it was already 4:30  – you needed to get home, shower, eat, and get ready for your date.

You threw the brown paper bag onto the passenger seat, put your key into the ignition and….

Nothing.

Turning the key made a brrrrrr sound come out but the engine wasn’t coming to life like it usually did. 

Fuck.

You thought quickly through your options. Kaya was on call, she wouldn’t be able to help you. Her boyfriend Usopp was on a road trip with his friends, Law was on a surgery rotation and working, and Chopper couldn’t drive. So you were out of luck for someone to come pick you up. 

FUCK.

OK, you could still solve this. You were an ER doctor, this kind of situational change was nothing to you. You’d somehow deal with the car, borrow a loaner, go home, and tell Thatch you’d be late but still show up to the date. Plan made, you pulled out your phone and called Iceburg’s shop. You needed to talk to him about your car anyway. You weren’t sure if he would be mad since you’d bailed on him the last time you had an appointment to bring it in. In your nervousness, you bit a nail as the phone rang.

“Galley-La Auto Shop, this is Paulie,” a gruff man said on the other line.

“Hi, this is-”

“Iceburg, it’s Kureha’s brat!” the man shouted, cutting you off before you could finish your sentence. Based on his tone, you didn’t think it was a good sign.

“Tell her no,” you heard Iceburg yell back.

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” you protested, getting a little flustered at their rude treatment. Didn’t they value customer service? A muffled sound came through the phone as someone else got on the line.

“What is it?” Iceburg asked. The chill in his voice had you second guessing your choice to call.

“Well, my car won’t start and I’m stuck-” Iceburg sighed into the phone.

“Listen. You no call no showed on me twice in two months. That’s money out of my pocket. I can’t give you any more special treatment even if you are Kureha’s kid-”

“But I was called in to work! I didn’t have a choice-”

“I’m booked solid for the next week. I can get you in after that,” he said, before the line went dead with a click. He hung up on you? Ok, yes, you had missed your last two appointments at the auto shop but you were on call! You had to get to the hospital, it wasn’t your choice! People were literally dying! You understood why Iceburg was mad, but it really wasn’t helping you at the moment. You laid your forehead on the top of the steering wheel. 

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

…

…

There was one other person you could call for advice. Or, text. 

You reluctantly pulled your phone out of your pocket and scrolled through your recent contacts. The thought of asking Thatch for a favor already had you feeling discomforted – he had already helped you two nights prior. You didn’t want him to think you needed him for anything or were mooching off him. You typed and deleted the same text several times before finally finding the courage to hit send. 

You: Hey Thatch, can I ask you a question? You flipped your phone over and stuck it between your thighs – you would feel it if he responded. Sure enough, a few moments later you felt the buzz of an incoming text.

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: Always, Sugar. What’s up? The use of a pet name had your cheeks burning a little bit but you couldn’t deny that you liked it.

You: So I’m in town and my car won’t start. What should I do? I have jumper cables – should I use those? You hoped he had a simple list you could check, you didn’t really know much about cars.

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: I won’t say told u so. Send me ur location and I’m on my way. 

You: Are you sure? Aren’t you working? You felt guilty that he was coming get you. Yes, it was the weekend but ranchers worked daily. It wasn’t like the farm turned off because it was Saturday.

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: It’s a good time for me to take a break. Location please. You pursed your lips, you really hadn’t meant for him to come get you. Still, you didn’t really have any other options besides taking a taxi you couldn’t afford to get back to your house. 

You: I’m in the parking lot of Whole Cake Foods.

Thatch Neighbor 🤠: I’m coming, Sugar. Stay put. Your palm across your mouth hid your small smile. It had been a long time since you’d been able to ask anyone for help – and receive it. 

With that, you got out of the car and scrolled on your phone while leaning against the body of your car. It wasn’t something you normally had the time for but it felt nice to relax in the late afternoon sun. About 45 minutes later you looked up and saw the same deep purple truck from the night before pulling into the parking lot. You smiled and waved and saw him grin smile back, making your heart skip a beat. He pulled up next to you, turning off the car and getting out. 

While you were waiting you’d wondered if it was just a trick of the light or your sleep-addled brain that made him so incredibly attractive the night before. You’d worried that when you saw him again he wouldn’t be as good looking as you remembered. You should have put your fears aside because when you saw him in the afternoon light, he looked even better. Thatch stepped out of his truck and you momentarily forgot why he was here as you stared at him. 

In the dark of the night you hadn’t fully  seen how toned his forearms were, how large his biceps were, or the dimple in his cheek. He was wearing well worn jeans slung low on his hips and a tight white tshirt, his hair slicked back from his face instead of down low like the night before. Thatch looked comfortable and casual and oh so sexy. He looked like he could be on the cover of a romance novel – all he would need is a breeze to blow his hair behind him and a cheesy title like Lassoing his Love, or something like that.

“So, the car didn’t make it, huh?” he drawled, standing in front of you with his thumbs in his pockets. Blinking your eyes a few times, you recentered yourself in reality. 

“Uh, n-no. It’s uh - well, I don’t really know what’s wrong with it. I called Iceburg-”

“He’s an asshole, don’t bother with him,” Thatch said with a scowl. His face softened again before pushing his hat farther back on his head.  “You can go sit in the truck, I’ll take a look at your car.”  Being told that you didn’t need to handle a crisis was the hottest thing a man had ever said to you, but you didn’t want to impose. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” You offered, it would be rude not to. But really, you wouldn’t be much help between the fact that you were in your cute sundress and your lack of mechanical knowledge. So in your heart, you hoped he declined your offer.

“Nah. Go relax, I got this,” Thatch said, grabbing a toolbox from the bed of the truck. He took his cowboy hat off his head and put it on your own.

“Hold this for me, would ya?” he asked with a grin.

You had opened your phone to your email just in time to avoid getting caught watching Thatch root around under the hood of your car. Again. Thatch was obviously well versed in car mechanics and was making the whole ordeal look easy. You tried to watch him surreptitiously as he worked, his back flexing under his tight tshirt and his ass straining against his old jeans. He looked so tasty you had to remind yourself to breathe.  Thatch somehow sensed you were watching him, looking up at you and tossing you a wink and a smirk. Blood rushed to your face in a way you hadn’t experienced since the talent show in elementary school. You averted your gaze quickly, mortified to be caught staring. You were grateful Thatch didn’t say anything and turned back to bend over your engine.

A few minutes later (after you failed to quell many inappropriate thoughts), Thatch came to stand next to the open passenger window. He wiped his hands on a rag and looked down at you from under his cowboy hat. All your hard work at trying not to blush was ruined as blood returned to your face – and he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“Well, good news is it’s just the alternator that’s dead. I can fix it for you,” he started, flipping the rag over his shoulder like a chef. You sighed in relief, a smile gracing your mouth.

“That’s great! Thank-”

“The bad news is I can’t do it right now. I don’t have the parts and Franky’s is closed. I’ll have to come back tomorrow,” he continued. 

“Oh. Well. Um, thank you! I can - well, you don’t have to, I can deal with it tomorrow, I’ll figure out something-” you stammered, not wanting to make more work for someone who was practically a stranger. A hot stranger who lived next door, but a stranger nonetheless. Thatch hummed but didn’t respond to your statement.

“We can leave the car here for the night, I’ll drive you home for now. We’ll figure out the rest on the way,” he said, leaning on the window. 

“Thank you, really. I feel bad making you drive me around so much,” you said, resting your hand on his corded forearm. Thatch didn’t mention the touch but didn’t move his arm away either. He smiled at you and tossed the rag back onto the bed of the truck.

“You’re not making me. I want to,” he said simply. At this rate you could probably run a study on what happened if someone blushed continuously within a half an hour time frame. 

“Thank you,” you said simply, giving his forearm a small squeeze. Oh lord, it was like squeezing iron. You kept talking before your imagination could supply any more imagery. “Ok, let me grab my groceries, I don’t wanna leave them here. They’re in the trunk,” you said, reaching for the handle of the door.

“I got that too, I gotta put my tools away anyway. Just sit pretty,” he said, his calloused hand settling on top of yours for a moment. Before you could blink he’d removed it and started walking to the back of the truck. You popped the trunk of your car with your keys and tried not to imagine what those roughened hands would feel like on other areas of your soft skin. You failed. 

“This isn’t food,” Thatch stated from behind you a few moments later. You scrunched your brow, trying to remember what else was back there. You hadn’t cleaned out your car in a while, maybe he’d found an old laundry bag or something? 

“Oh, um, I might have a few lab coats back there too? I think-”

“No, I’m looking at your bags from the grocery store. None of this is actual food, there’s not a single fresh item here. This isn’t nutritious,” Thatch said disdainfully. You twisted in your seat to look at your open trunk. He had a frozen meal in his hand, flipping it back and forth between the front and back of the box.

“I can’t let you eat this. I’m a chef, this is an insult to my profession,” he said, dropping it back into the bag as if the box was going to bite him. His tone was teasing but your pride still took a hit from his words.

“I mean, I don’t really have time for cooking. It serves its purpose,” you said, trying for a light tone. Thatch raised an eyebrow at you before rummaging in the bag once more and picking up a sachet of instant ramen.

“I’m just worried about your health, I’m not tryin’ to insult ya. You gotta know this stuff isn’t good for ya,” he added, showing you the front of the carton. You bristled, it wasn’t like you enjoyed eating pre-made frozen lasagna and ramen all the time.

“Wait, you’re a chef? But you know so much about cars,” you asked, still a little upset about his gentle ribbing. Maybe changing the subject would have him dropping the issue altogether.

“It comes with living on a farm. Everyone does for the most part. Maybe a few of my brothers don’t, the ones who work offsite like Ma-” you interrupted him as he crunched the noodle bag slightly. 

“Hey! That’s my favorite flavor! Don’t break ‘em!” you protested, getting out of the truck and scurrying to the trunk of your car. You stood next to Thatch and grabbed the bag out of his arms, moving as he tried to look at more of the groceries in the bag.

“Look, I know it's bad but I don’t have many other options. And I don’t have money for more food, so I need to take it with me, OK? I can’t waste this stuff,” you said softly while doubling down on your choices.

“I don’t mean anything by it. We’ve all had struggle meals, yeah? But you’ve got other options,” Thatch said, picking up the second paper bag from the trunk.

“Like what? I can’t eat at the hospital every day, residents can only eat 20 meals a month for free and I can’t afford anything else,” you groused, hugging your bag tighter to your chest. He was right, you shouldn’t eat this way, but there wasn’t any other way you could reliably have a warm meal at the end of a long day.

“I’ll cook for you,” he said with a grin. You stared at him – surely he was joking.

“Haha, very funny,” you said in a clipped tone. You didn’t find the situation humorous in the slightest. You were the one who had to choke down frozen food over the weeks. He was a chef, he probably cooked and ate amazing food daily.

“I’m not joking. I cook full meals for everyone on the ranch three times a day. Adding you to the roster would be no trouble at all,” he explained, putting your bag of groceries into the bed of the truck. Thatch slowly reached for you and gingerly pried the second bag from your hands, like you were a scared animal backed into a corner. You let him but made sure he put it next to the first, not leaving any of your food behind. 

“No, I can’t. Thank you, that’s very generous, but no,” you stated with finality, your mouth setting into a thin line. It was one thing to get a ride to your house but it was not acceptable for a grown adult like you to depend on anyone for a basic need. You’d learned early on in life that you couldn’t rely on anyone but yourself and this was no different. Thatch looked at your face and must have seen your determination because he nodded once, his countenance softening as he gently grabbed your elbow between his rough fingers. 

“Then at least let me feed you dinner tonight. It’s about suppertime and the food’s already cooked. It would be my pleasure,” he said with a warm smile. You immediately felt guilty for coming down so hard on him, he was only trying to help. It wasn’t like you to return kindness with scorn, and he didn’t deserve it after coming all the way to pick you up. Besides, a warm dinner did sound nice. You relaxed your shoulders from where they’d hiked up to around your ears and gave him a smile.

“So you’re saying you’re bringing me home to your family for our first date?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Thatch’s grin widened as he walked you back to the passenger side door.

“This isn’t our first date, that’s later tonight. This is just dinner with neighbors.”

Taglist: @radiantnico @mfreedomstuff @thetempleofthemasaigoddess

[hannahbarberra162]

So this in Pinterest and I imagine baby like this whenever she's curled up 😆😆

BAHAHAHA exactly!! That's her for sure!! But I'd say 50% angrier at any given time than this pleasant looking snakey. This one seems like she'd listen before biting. Baby bites first, asks no questions and bites again.

Thank you!!!

[hannahbarberra162]

Hiiiiiiiiiii I actually got inspired by your writing and I really wanted to write something about Shamrock. Do I get your permission for it? Can I tag you when I post it???? If so thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Hi Choco!! I definitely don't own Shamrock, you're free to write what you'd like about him! Or did I misunderstand and you saying you want to write in the AU from Long Forgotten Fairy Tale? Either way, I'd love to read what you've written! Please tag me when you post <3

[hannahbarberra162]

Hiii

I just wanted to ask if you will be updating „Hysteria”? Bcs I just found your story and Im already hooked <3

Thank you :)

Hi Nonnie! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying my fic! I've gotten quite a few requests for this particular fic recently. Once I finish this chapter of Space Marco I started, then another chapter of Phoenix / Marco, then the last one with modern AU Marco, I'll pick it back up.

I'm just kidding -- all to say I am planning on continuing it soon. Probably not the next few weeks though. Thank you for asking <3

[hannahbarberra162]

Stockade, Hour 5 - Fossa (Dark, Dead Dove, Non Con)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | the other hours

Sorry for the wait! Reminder: this is dead dove / non con. Also I know I said I would have each Commander in their own individual hour / chapter but it might not be the case down the line.

Marco left you panting in the middle of the stockade, barely able to register the noise beyond the gates. The walls must have parted behind you at some point because you were startled by the feeling of a warm hand settling on your upper back. You nearly burst into tears, you needed a short break, a rest, anything before you had to endure whatever they had planned next for you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw it was Thatch. He had brought a tray with some food, beverages, and a towel with him.

“C’mere Sugar. Got something for ya,” he said with a smile, sitting down cross legged next to you. You looked him over, still panting heavily as he set down his tray on the deck. He opened his arms, as if to wrap you in a hug but you cringed backward. What did he want from you? Didn’t he already have his turn?

“Nothin’s happening right now. Little break. Bringin’ you some food and drinks,” he said calmly, patting his lap. You looked at him warily but crawled over to him, plopping yourself in between his legs. It wasn’t like you had a choice in what would happen so you might as well try and placate him with something as small as sitting in his lap. 

You weren’t sure you’d be able to eat right now, but you’d take whatever beverage he was offering to get the taste of Marco’s cum out of your mouth. You reached for the cup and picked it up, surprised at how heavy it was. The mugs on board were meant for people much larger than yourself, just like everything else. Looking in the mug, it was some kind of fruit juice. You were a little surprised that Thatch would offer you such a rare treat while the ship was at sea but you weren’t going to ask any questions.

Lifting the tankard to your parched lips, you drank greedily, barely tasting the tangy fruit juice on your tongue. Some of the cool juice spilled down your chest as you chugged, but you didn’t care. You drank as fast as you could, gulp after gulp going down your throat. You tried to drink more but felt some resistance pulling on the bottom of the tankard, keeping you from chugging. 

“Whoa, slow down. You’re gonna have it all come back up if you drink that fast,” Thatch said into your ear, gently pushing the tankard away from your face with a large hand. You knew he was right, your stomach was sloshing with what you already drank, but it had been a momentary distraction from your ordeal. 

“Take it easy, still got a ways to go,” he said, letting go of the cup once it rested your lap. You nearly laughed at his words. Take it easy? Not likely under the current circumstances. As you lifted the tankard back to your face, you jolted as you felt a wet washcloth against the underside of your breasts. Thatch tutted at you as some of the juice spilled on your chest.

“Don’t waste it, I don’t have much more on board. I’m only washin’ ya. Marco’s healing doesn’t remove the stickiness. Thought you might appreciate it,” he said as he continued to gently scrub the juice and other fluids off your breasts. You wished he would have asked first, but truthfully it did feel rather nice to have the cool damp fabric against your skin. Since the stockade began in the morning, the day had only gotten warmer and it wasn’t even reached the hottest part of the day yet. 

You drank from the tankard more slowly as Thatch continued to scrub down your neck, shoulders, and back. He kept up a one sided litany throughout his cleaning, as if trying to gentle you. You didn’t know why he bothered, it wasn’t like there were any other choices you could make.

“That’s it, just washin’ ya. Doin’ so well, everyone’s lovin’ ya. You’re gonna make it, I know it. Such a good girl, doin’ great, only a little bit longer until you’re done. You’re the best we’ve had in a long time, you’re our little star…” You tuned out his words, the supposed comfort only making bile rise in your throat. You heard murmuring from the crowd but couldn’t be bothered to care at this point. It wasn’t your idea to take a break, it was Thatch’s.

“They’re annoyed I’m getting more time with you, that’s why they’re grumbling. They’re not upset with you,” Thatch explained, pouring more water on the cloth and wringing it out onto the deck. You didn’t answer, not that Thatch seemed to notice. You sipped on the juice as Thatch wiped down your legs. 

“Open ‘em,” he said softly into your ear. You thought about asking to do it yourself but you figured it would be futile or that he might refuse to wash you altogether. And you did want the fluids washed off of you. The feeling of the sticky cum on you was unbearable now that you weren’t actively being used. You sat back in Thatch’s lap and opened your legs with a shaky breath. You averted your gaze and focused on the juice in your cup, not wanting to look down at yourself. 

You looked the same of course, it wasn’t like your anatomy had changed since your trial began. Yet you couldn’t bear to look at yourself, shame washing over you as Thatch gently wiped the evidence of three Commanders from between your legs. Your lower lip wobbled but you bit it between your teeth nearly to the point of drawing blood. You only had 11 more hours to go, you could do this to save your crew. Thankfully Thatch wasn’t lingering, just giving you a thorough cleaning. 

Once he finished, he set the cloth down and washed his hands with some of the leftover water. He plucked something off the tray and held it up to your mouth. Looking at the fresh fruit in his fingers, you shook your head to refuse it. Your stomach was already in knots, filled to the brim with anxiety in addition to the juice. There wasn’t any room for anything – even something as small as a slice of clementine.

“Try. I won’t be back for a while and you’ll need energy,” he urged you, his goatee tickling your neck as he spoke in low tones. You looked at the fruit again and parted your lips – he was right, you would need energy if you were to make it through. Thatch took the opportunity to slip the wedge into your mouth, his finger tracing the seam of your lips as you chewed. You leaned back on him like a chair, content to spend a few minutes eating and drinking rather than being entertainment for the crew. 

He brought slice after slice to your lips, feeding you slowly by hand. Your mind was blank, your brain on autopilot as you zoned out of the experience. If you hadn’t seen he was feeding you an orange prior to starting, you wouldn’t have been able to tell him what fruit you were tasting. All too soon Thatch was picking you up off his lap and setting you back on the deck. You broke out of your trance, giving him a wide eyed look as he stood up and brushed himself off. He gave you an affectionate smile and patted your head.

“Don’t worry Sugar. I’ll be back later, I’m not gonna let you starve.” He gave you one more pinch to your cheek before grabbing the tray and now empty cup and sauntering off to the edge of the stockade. Your eyes tracked his movement in a naive hope that he’d come back and let you rest for longer. But the gates parted and Thatch exchanged a few words and a laugh with the incoming Commander. 

Based on the facial scar and cigar in his mouth, this was Fossa, Commander of the fifteenth division. Your break was over, you were back on the clock. You stood up, in truth feeling a little better now that you had something to eat and drink. Your determination was renewed as he walked towards you, ready to start another hour of torment.

Your stomach dropped as you saw Fossa was bringing something into the stockade with him. Fossa was carrying a long table under one arm, a towel draped over his shoulder, and a bottle of clear liquid in his hand. You bit the inside of your cheek – you hadn’t liked what Atmos had brought or anything Haruta had either.  Everything brought in so far had been a bad time for you, and you worried that this would be no different. 

As he approached, Fossa gave you a once over and a nod, like he was sizing you up and found you fitting. He unfolded a long padded table on the deck and handed you the bottle without a word. Was this like what Atmos had wanted? You were grateful that at least there would be padding under your hands and knees this time, getting a break from the rough wood of the deck.

Your eyes were wide with confusion as he took off his vest and threw it off to the side. He quickly disrobed from his pants, his large cock already half hard. But instead of telling you to do something about it or to climb up on the table, he wrapped the towel around himself and laid face down on the bench. You were unsure what to do exactly – up to now the Commanders had been very upfront with what they wanted from their time with you. Fossa bit his cigar and grunted, resting his head on his forearms.

“I want 40 minutes of massage, girl. Start with my back and shoulders, those ache the most,” he stated, laying his arms down at his sides and putting his face into the headhole. You finally read the label on the bottl  – it was scented massage oil.

“You always do this!” someone yelled from the crowd. “We don’t wanna watch-”

“Shut the fuck up, ya lot of losers! This is my hour and I get to do with it what I want! And I want a fucking massage!” the Commander lifted his head to shout back. You blinked in surprise but you were still trepidacious. This wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed, you were sure of it.

“Get to it girl. Don’t waste time,” he grunted, stubbing his cigar out on the deck. Nodding, you took a deep breath. Maybe you wouldn’t have to do anything too terrible during the hour if all he wanted was a back massage. In any event, you had 40 minutes of something different before having to have sex again. You uncapped the bottle and spread a generous amount of the oil onto your palms. The liquid warmed between your palms as you rubbed them together before reaching for Fossa’s shoulders. 

“And yourself, girl,” he said with a glint in his eye. Your mouth set in a thin line, but you squirted a little more oil into your hands. You quickly rubbed the oil across your stomach and arms, noting that at least it had a pleasant fragrance. 

“All over, come on,” Fossa barked out, making your shoulders jump. Guessing at what he wanted, you spread a generous amount of oil over your tits and ass. A smile ghosted over Fossa’s lips before he put his head back into the designated hole on the table.

“Firm pressure, back’s all fucked up,” he said as means of telling you to begin. You squared your shoulders and began.

His back was hairy  – as was nearly every part of his body. The table was low enough to the ground that you could reach his entire back, which made you wonder how often this occurrence came up. You shook your head, you didn’t have the luxury of letting your mind wander. You placed your oiled hands on Fossa’s back and began rubbing his back, using your thumbs for additional pressure. 

Fossa wasn’t wrong about his back and shoulders. His muscles were bunched tight, the knots nearly as tough as the ones you just had to make. You weren’t a great masseuse but you must have been doing an OK job because he started grunting when you worked on his knots. 

“Fuck fuck fuck right there ahh c’mon girl, put some muscle into it,” he commanded as you dug your thumbs into his shoulder blades. As desired, you used more of your body weight to press into his skin, your thumbs already sore after only a few minutes. Still, it wasn’t as bad as what had come before – better your thumbs than your jaw. 

You took your time, working him from the back of his neck all the way down to his lower back. Fossa didn’t offer any commentary other than the grunts, which you took as a good sign. The Commander looked like he was relaxing under your touch, his shoulders sagging the longer you massaged him. Just when you were wondering how much time you had left, Fossa picked himself up onto his forearms.

“Now the front,” he said, rolling himself on to his back. His erect cock was bobbing under your gaze, but maybe he wanted you to massage his arms and legs? Or his chest? Maybe he didn’t want-

“Sit on it,” he commanded. Fossa turned to grab his cigar off the deck once more, as casual as if he’d just asked you to massage his hands. You hesitated – after all that he wanted – 

“Come on, only got 20 minutes left,” he said, smacking your ass lightly. You deflated slightly, of course that was what he wanted. 

“You’re gonna ride me until you come, I come, or the time’s up,” he said with a grin. One of  Fossa’s arms settled behind his head, his shoulders with more range of motion than they had before you massaged him. His other hand reached down to pump his hefty cock a few times. 

“And you know what the penalty is for faking, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to his side. You frowned and shook your head. No one had mentioned anything about faking orgasms, the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

“Penalty for faking is forfeit. Death for your crew. So don’t try it, we don’t like liars here,” he explained, his rough palm roving over your ass. You nodded and started to climb up on the table. There was no point in delaying the inevitable, and it might make him angry if you did. You weren’t wet anymore so you put some of the oil in your palm and stroked his cock a few times, making him hiss in a breath.

“Atta girl,” Fossa praised, his wide smile making his scar stretch across his face. You shivered, his statement making you feel like there were bugs under your skin. Still, if the Commanders were enjoying you like Thatch had said, they’d be less likely to condemn your crew to death. 

You climbed up on top of the table and threw one of your legs over Fossa’s wide pelvis. Now that you were straddling him, you lined yourself up with his cock, rubbing the head a few times back and forth over your slit. Fossa’s hands came to paw at your breasts, your oiled skin sliding easily between his fingers as he pulled and groped. A cheer rose from the crowd, momentarily distracting you from your task. While you had been massaging Fossa, the crew had mostly been quiet, likely waiting for the boring session to be over. Now their interest was renewed as you parted your pussy lips and started to lower yourself onto Fossa’s massive cock.

You shifted side to side as you worked the tip of Fossa’s cock inside you. Even that felt like it was too large to fit in your body. You put your hands on his hairy chest for stability, using his pecs as support while pushing yourself lower. Even though you’d been stretched by the previous Commanders, the feeling was more intense now that you were on top. The stretch was painful, your core burning as you split yourself open for his pleasure. Keeping your goal in mind, you continued to grind yourself lower.

“That’s it, a-all the way. Take all of me,” Fossa grunted, his hands now encircling your hips. Fossa wasn’t forcing you down, for which you were grateful. You worked your hips forwards and back, trying to relax your muscles enough that you could accept his massive full length. You tried sliding down again, but you weren’t wet enough. The other Commanders had at least made your body physically ready for theirs, sparing you from the pain of being too dry when they had you. Now you only had the small amount of oil you’d slicked on yourself and Fossa’s cock since Thatch had wiped you clean earlier. It wasn’t enough to stop you from wincing as you speared yourself on his cock. 

Panting, you leaned over Fossa, trying to catch your breath from forcing the aching fullness into you. Your hip joints were already protesting being spread so wide and you hadn’t even accomplished your goal. Gritting your teeth, you lowered yourself more until your ass finally met his thighs, only his pubes visible beneath your cunt. 

“Good girl. Now ride,” Fossa commanded, moving your hips in a circle with his rough palms. You flattened the tops of your feet against the massage chair and used your quads to lift yourself up a few inches off his cock. Your channel stung as you rose up on your knees, the drag of his cock painful as you tried to comply. Maybe you could close your eyes and imagine something else, something that would help you get through one more hour. Marco and Thatch definitely wanted your eyes on them, but maybe Fossa wouldn’t notice or care.

“Reverse cowgirl?” you asked Fossa, the implicit meaning clear. He blinked at you and you realized these were the first words he’d heard you say.

“Don’t matter to me,” he said with a small shrug. You carefully turned yourself around without getting off his cock, it had been difficult enough the first time to get all the way down. Once you were seated backwards, you jolted forward as Fossa slapped your ass. 

“Get going,” he said, his thumbs digging into the small of your back. Now that you weren’t facing him, you could close your eyes and imagine that you weren’t on the Moby Dick , you weren’t riding some Whitebeard Commander’s cock, you were…back on the Piece of Spadille, with Ace under you. You’d never so much as kissed him in real life, but you’d imagined that scenario many times over.

You shut your eyes tight and tuned out the noise of the crew as best you could, your hips setting a slow rhythm so you didn’t hurt or tire yourself before the time was up. You pretended that it was Ace stretching you out, his brow furrowed in that way it did when he was concentrating fully. That those were his thumbs on your lower back, massaging you to encourage you to feel good. But Ace wouldn’t let you ride reverse cowgirl, no. He would want to have you first in missionary, so that he could kiss you, unable to stop once he started. Ace would fuck into you slowly at first, reverently, like he couldn’t believe that you’d want him at all. You’d smile and kiss him deeply, happy to show him that you loved all of him, the cracked and broken parts too. You’d look up at him, your fingernails digging into his back as he kissed your neck, his warm hands stroking up and down your flank. He’d look at you with his large brown eyes, his desire clear to you. He’d reach down to thumb your clit, making your back arch off the bed…

Even without opening your eyes you could tell you were wetter, your delusional daydreaming was working. You were riding Fossa fully now, your cunt finally stretched enough that you were able to drag yourself up and down the length of his cock a few inches at a time. Fossa was biting his cigar so tightly that you thought it would break in two.

“Vista and Atmos swore you were tight, but I didn’t think it’d be like this . Pussy fit for an Emperor, just like they said,” Fossa said, his brows knit as you started to bounce yourself on his cock. Your thoughts of Ace flitted away as his words registered in your mind. They…they were talking about you outside? Not just the crew, but the Commanders? Comparing their experiences? Talking about your body like it was a piece of meat?

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to you. The crew were obviously talking about you, hell they had several betting pools. And of course you knew that the Commanders were all sharing you amongst themselves. But the thought of them talking about how tight you were for each of them had shame washing over you like a tsunami. It solidified that you weren’t a person to them, you were just a stupid whore that they all got to have a laugh over. You burned with anger, humiliation, shame, and inescapable sadness at once, your emotions pushing you over the edge until a fat tear rolled down your cheek. You swiped at it with a hand as your eyes sought out your Captain for comfort, as if from muscle memory. 

Ace was watching you.

 You locked eyes with him and your movements stalled. His eyes were soft, his mouth turned down into a sad frown as he watched you resume gyrating on Fossa. There was no judgement, no ridicule. Only sadness, concern, and regret shone through clear as day on his freckled face. He seemed te be saying he’d take your place if he could – he would – but this was your burden to bear for him. Ace had always been your calm in a storm, but now you looked away quickly as if scorched by his fire. 

You focused back on the Commander below you, not able to meet your Captain’s eye any longer. Fossa said that it would be over when one of you came, maybe you’d earn yourself a few minutes of respite before whoever came next. Sitting up straight, you moved faster and squeezed your inner muscles tighter, trying to get him to come inside you. 

“H-holy fuck, ‘m gonna fuck fuck keep goin’ right shit there-” Fossa kept up a stream of profanities as you felt his cock twitch inside you. His fingers gripped your hips so tightly you knew you’d be bruised afterwards but you bit the inside of your cheek and kept going.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck nnnh right there right there oooh fuck,” Fossa grunted as he spilled inside you. You slowed your movements but didn’t stop, letting him ride out his orgasm while still in you. After a few moments, Fossa started to pull you off his softening cock. You climbed off and sat down on the deck, your muscles crampinh from the effort of being on top.

“Phew, that was a ride, huh girl? Good job,” he said as he swung his legs over the side of the table. You knew by now he wasn’t looking for a response. He stood up and stretched, giving a pleased sigh when he rolled his shoulders. Fossa walked over to where he’d dropped his pants and started putting them on. You sat on the deck, pulling your legs up to rest your chin on your knees. 

“Oh, and good job on the massage too. Might ask you for another one if you make it through. Happy ending or not, my back feels great,” he said with half a smile. Your skin crawled as his come seeped out of you, trailing down your legs. You kept your eyes trained on the deck, not caring who came in next. At this point, it didn’t really matter. Well, aside from one. The only Commander who had really sent shivers down your spine was-

“Missed me?” a now familiar voice said as a talon lifted your chin up, the razor sharp tip pressed into the soft underside of your jaw. 

Marco.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @nocturnalrorobin

[hannahbarberra162]

May I perhaps bribe you for some more Heat Transfer 💰💰💰

That cliffhanger was PAINFULLLLLLL

Ha! No need for money Nonnie! You'll get it (eventually) for free!

Here's the secret: I don't like writing action. I don't think it's my strength, it's very challenging for me in a way I don't enjoy. So I have started the next chapter but I've scrapped what I have a few times over. I know what I want to happen, and I'll get there, but I'm not liking how it's turning out right now.

[hannahbarberra162]

Thank you for spoiling us with Marco content! I can't get enough of how you write the handsome pineapple bird!

Thank you for reading my renditions of Pineapple Bird!! I can't get enough of that guy / bird, I need him in every way possible. He's in a lot of my fics, even ones that aren't about him. I can't stay awayyyy

[hannahbarberra162]

I thought your stories couldn't get any better, but each new chapter of Fully Human proves me wrong!!!!

Thank you Nonnie!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying this one!!!

I am pretty fixated on this fic, I keep thinking I'll rotate back to the other ones I have going but No. Must have Space Marco. I have so much planned for our little human 😈😈😈

[hannahbarberra162]

Binge read (? Read it all within an hour or so) your Benn Beckman story and holy fuck am I hooked, almost screamed when I finished the second chapter and had to remember there wasnt any more chapters 😭 I gotta ask, are you planning on writing more chapters? I know you've been busy writing for the other stories but I gotta know if i just need to sit and wait or if I just gotta take the plunge and reread it till my fixation fades 😭 (Also i love your works, some of the best OP fics I've found so far and genuinely thank you for blessing us with all you've given ❤️)

Thank you so much Nonnie!!! That's so kind of you to say!! The OP fandom has really talented writers, we're very lucky. And I feel grateful that you include me in that pool <3.

That being said, I do still have the notes for that one and I can continue it. Truthfully I felt like I didn't do a good job making an OC and felt embarrassed to continue. I can pick it up again soon -- I am tying off a bunch of fics so I'll have time for more.

I do want to write more Red Haired Pirates / Shanks / Beckman so this might be a good venue for it.