Birthday Request Event - 2024

BONUS GIFT

Gift Details ♥
Reader Style: cisfem
Character: Marco and Thatch
Vibe: SFW Consensual
AU: Canon AU
Prompt: Forced Proximity
Gift Giver: Kaz (Raffle winning request)

Summary: Inspired very much by a piece of art (link in the comments)

Content Notes: Safe for work - but barely.

Give your thanks to the Raffle Winner for deciding to use her raffle prize to have me complete this prompt xD

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

You gasp and squirm. It's a tight fit in the crate, and you're stuck between Marco and Thatch. Your face is practically smushed into Thatch's broad chest, and your legs are on either side of Marco's waist.

For the first time since you've known both of them, they're very tense.

"Izou!" Marco bellows. You've never heard him bellow. You've only rarely heard him yell, and that was just to be heard over the din of the crew. "Open the crate!"

"No." Izou's voice is muffled. The crate isn't air tight, and light is getting in, but most of the illumination is from Marco's flames. "Don't bang too hard, the outside's lined in seastone."

"Bastard." Marco grumbles, his voice barely audible to you.

"Two of you know why you're in there." You can hear the grin in Izou's tone, and you already know you're not getting out of this box. "If you bring the third up to speed, I'll consider opening the box. Until then," There's a slight pause before Izou is nearly bellowing as well.

"Spend a few minutes sympathizing for what the rest of us are going through!"

Marco moves to smack the crate again and the motion presses his thigh into your crotch. You can't stifle the surprised noise that bubbles up in you, but it's the pleasure around the edges of it that makes the whole box go still.

"...sorry." You mutter in the tiniest voice.

"No," Marco clears his throat, moving very carefully this time. "That was my fault, pretty bird."

The three of you stay silent for a few long minutes before Thatch nearly weeps.

"I can't take this." He admits with a sigh. "I'm dying."

"Are you claustrophobic?" You question, looking up at him. Thatch looks down at you and stiffens from head to toe. There's a strained expression on his face, and even in the dim light you can see his face is several shades of red.

"I wish." His voice cracks and he puts a hand over his eyes.

You tilt your head and hear Marco sigh behind you. "He likes you, yoi." He clarifies.

"Oi!" Thatch barks.

"So do I." Marco adds.

You feel the heat rush through you at the realization. You were already losing your mind because Thatch and Marco were, to you, handsome and alluring and completely unobtainable. But now the crate felt much smaller. You could feel Thatch's heart beating against his chest like a canon, and you were painfully aware of how you were straddling Marco.

Grabbing onto Thatch's tunic, you bury your face in his uniform. "Me... me too." You manage to say, your voice almost disappearing into the cloth.

The silence that follows is almost killing you, but Marco doesn't let it go for long.

"Pretty bird?"

"... Both." You admit before your grip tightens on Thatch's uniform and you almost curl in on yourself. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Thatch's hands are on your shoulders. He's not forcing you to move, but he's trying to get you to look up, or maybe just let up. "Sorry for what?"

You let him lift you, releasing your hold on his clothes and covering your face. It's suddenly not nearly dim enough inside the crate. "For liking you both."

"That's-." Thatch starts.

"Not a problem." Marco finishes, the two shifting in the crate until their legs are comfortably crossed over one another and you're sitting in the small space between them, legs draped over one side, back supported by the other set.

With comforting ease, Marco is holding your left hand, and Thatch is holding your right hand. Each has such a tender hold of it that you could easily pull your arms free. Not that you'd be able to get far, stuck in the crate with the two of them.

"I -." You start, but you aren't really sure what to say.

"No need to pick, yoi." Marco reassures you, lifting your hand to his mouth slowly, watching you carefully before he places a warm kiss against your knuckles.

The tug on your other hand draws your attention to Thatch, who is doing the same thing. "We get along well enough, sugar." He assures you before kissing your hand.

"But... that's asking too much, isn't it?"

Marco and Thatch both grin, and Thatch laughs. "You're a pirate," he beams. "Be greedy, girl!"

"And," Marco's voice is low, sending a shiver through you before you even turn to see the look on his face. "Seeing as we're pirates too," he tugs on your arm, pulling you toward him until you had a hand pressed on his bare chest. "We'll be just as greedy, yoi."

Thatch squeezes your hand as Marco captures your lips, and you squeeze back. Marco's lips are smooth and soft, hot and hungry, and his hand at the back of your head pulls you in closer. He's true to his word, greedily claiming your mouth until he breaks the kiss and your tongue seems to chase after his for a second.

The sure smile on his face isn't smug, but there's certainly confidence there.

Thatch tugs you in his direction, Marco helping you shift as your addled brain is trying to catch up with everything that's happening.

Thatch tilts your chin up, moving your hand up to his shoulder as he turns his head to the side and leans down. You hold onto Marco's hand like you had Thatch's before, fingers twitching against his as Thatch closes the distance between your lips.

His are rougher and drier, but just as heated and hungry. Idly you think you'll be marveling at the similarities and differences for years to come. Enjoying the rare moments you fluster Marco, and the heated moments when Thatch flusters you both.

Your body aches with curiosity at the idea of having them both. How completely devoured you would feel with two sets of hands against your skin. Two hungry sets of lips. To thick and -

"Look at you," Thatch murmurs, holding your face up with a finger under your chin. "Already so greedy."

"I ... haven't said anything," you nearly sigh the words, surprised to hear the blatant need in your voice.

"No, you're just pawing at us like you want to strip us." Marco teases, running a finger down your back, and pulling a shivering gasp from you that has you putting a hand over your mouth to stifle it. You're not so far lost in your need to have forgotten the crate's currently out on the middle of the deck.

"A little patience." He promises you. "Thatch and I will sate that greed once we get out of this crate, pretty bird."