The Siren (Marco the phoneix X reader)

A drunk mind speaks a sober heart

Marco POV

You found solitude in your commander's cabin, thankful for your private room in this moment. Once you stepped foot into it's confinement your felt yourself fall back against the sturdy timber door. Resolution of the night playing through your mind, causing troubled thoughts to consume you. You had crossed a line you didn't think you would in your drunk state. Yet you hadn't received the reward you had hopped to come from your bravery.

A shacky breath left you, as one of your hands tussled through your blond locks. It's not like she had pushed you off or told you to stop. Yet you felt you were wrong to give hope to the potential of the two of you. No man on this ship or in the presence of Whitebeard would survive that feat. Not even his first commander....Yet you wished for nothing more. She was your greatest treasure.

This was the siren and she could have any man. She was paid to entertain men and she was just doing what she was good at. A groan left your lips in frustration, you refused to think of her as a petty whore. She was oh so much more, her beauty supreme, her grace undeniable, her charm irresistible, her personality captivating, her wit and intelligence undeniable. No the siren was capable of deceiving CP0 but tonight she had let her guard down.

You mind was in a frenzy the alcohol playing with dangerous thoughts. You moved your attention to the now empty bottle you had not yet relinquish hold off. No it was worse then thinking she was playing her part of a whore or doing her job. There was a simple explanation for her actions, she only wanted you in the moment because of the alcohol. A sick feeling erupted in the pit of you stomach. 'It was only because of the alcohol' you spoke the words out load followed by a pang of melancholy. Little did you know that the same women you seek was having the same fear enter her thoughts in regards to your own feeling towards her, within her own room on confinement at the exact same moment.

Your POV

Soft silk sheet encapsulated your body in a heavenly security. Only the morning sun peaking above the seas horizon and creeping through your window could wake you from your blissful slumber. Your eyes drifted opening enjoying the sight before you. You always loved your private cabin on the Moby Dick. You cherished the moments in which you could live freely to the sea and stay with the people you trusted.

Unlike the other rooms for the commanders or the shared crews quarters, this particular room had a simply elegance and homely charm. You were unsurprised that not a single thing was out of place or missing. You wouldn't be surprised if Whitebeard himself locked the key away and guarded this space from pervy crew men in your absence of required. There's was a line that he would not let any man cross and that line was defiantly anything beyond the threshold of your room.

Your eyes scanned the room taking in the charming embrace it offered. White wash timber furniture of a duchess, beauty table, bookcase and bed frame took up the space in a demanding presence. Intricate carved flourishing adorned the furniture in an element of handcrafted elegance. Old leather bound books, intricate ornaments from travels, a lush hand knotted floor rug, whimsical art and crisp white soft furnishings created elements of decor to give life to the space. Beyond marble  and glossy white tiles led you into a private en-suite fit for a queen. This was the only space on this ship that embraced a feminine charm and it was always safely kept for you. A privilege you did not take lightly.

You stretched out, realising you had no choice but to get up and face the reality of last nights wondering. You were unsure if you wanted things to be forgotten and stay the same or hope that last night would have sparked something new with Marco. Both possibilities left you in a state of confusion, surely no man was worth this confusion.

You showered and dressed, discarding your normally over the top elegance to a more authentic attire. Your wore lace up heeled boots with over-the-knee stockings giving you a sense of edginess that you often lacked in your traditional siren persona. Accompanied with high waisted black shorts and white button down blouse. A tightly bound corset with thee intricate belt buckles finished the assemble. This corseted belt help conceal you weapon of choice three finely made daggers.

You pined your hair back with a delicate clip that mirrored the silver work of the corset belt, with only a few soft curls falling free, shaping your face and softening the overall aesthetic. It was weird to see this version of yourself, so used to putting on the well constructed beauty of the siren. Yet this rougher visual seamed more authentic to who you truely were. A visual only available to the select group of pirates your trusted and the revolutionary army.

You made you way to the dinning hall, bypassing the table of hangover commanders. You briefly overheard the teasing of Ace and decided it was best to make you way directly to Thatch in the kitchen, then overhear your little brother sexual encounter. What however didn't escape you was the lack of one handsome pineapple at the table joining in on the teasing.

Thatch greeted you with a hearty grunt, his hunger over state presented in his lack of excitement to cater for the ship of ingrates. Despite this he wore a smuttering of red marks to his neck and a disheveled state with pride. A cheeky grin gracing his lips as he passed you your preferred breakfast of fresh fruit. Popping your self up on the bench next to him as he worked, you returned his smile. 'Good night?' You questioned.

'Safe to say you knew how she felt about me, I don't know if I should be impressed with you or angry you made me look a fool for so long,'

'It was quiet enduring actually, our cold hearted vixen Jessica Rabbit has a soft spot for persistent chivalry...well in your case stupidity. In fact you should be thanking me for I encouraging you in your ridiculous endeavour.'

Thatch simply shook his head at you in response, a smirk breaking across his face as your own soft spot walked through the dinning room doors. 'Well in that case, I should return the favour,' he spoke with a look of mischief as he gestured behind him.

You didn't have to turn to know exactly who he was referring to. Thatch has always joked that Marco and you had bickered because of a deep rooted love for each other. The other commanders thought he was absolutely boonkers for even suggesting such ludicrous accusations, yet Thatch continued to joke unaware of how true he was. A joke he would constantly tease the both of you for in order to get a reaction. You hated to think of how much slack you would receive if he knew how close it had come to a stolen kiss being almost shared beaten Marco and yourself last night.

'Still going with that joke? I'd agree with you but then we'd both be wrong.' You replied

'Thatch wrong, that never happens,' Marcos voice spoke from behind you, his tone heavily rooted in sarcasm.

Thatch passed him a plate of breakfast, the two man sharing a cheeky grin at each other's state. 'Good night I see!' Marco stated.

'Better once you to left, what you two get up to anyway?.'

'Marco here proved with our a shadow of a doubt, his dance skills rain supreme over my pathetic attempt to compete.' It was you turn to speak sarcastically to Marco. Turning to face him for the first time, there was amusement in his normally bored looking eyes.

A heavy grunt for Thatch indicated his disbelief. 'I believe I showed you all up, got the girl to prove it,' he stated.

'THATCH. Less talking more FOOD!!!' A demand came from one of the table of his diversion. A clear remark to tease and frustrate the chef known for his gift of the gab.

A disgruntled Thatch screamed his reply back 'IM NOT YOUR SLAVE,' he stormed over to the table in a playful frustration.

'About last night...' Marco paused obviously fighting an internal battle to find the right words.

You eyed him carful taking in his expression, he was often so guarded yet he seemed more vulnerable.

'Marco Pops wants a word,' Fifth commander Flower sword vista interrupted. He watched you both carefully before stating, 'You too already at odds with each other huh?' Not waiting for a reply before chucking at the two of you and departing your presence.

You waited to see if Marco would say any thing  but to no avail. Instead you decide to dissolve the tension as he made his way to leave 'It ok Pineapple, About last night, you did prove you are the best dancer, maybe a rematch is in order though, best to be sure.'

You were surprised to see him smile, before leaving. 'I'll have to get you drunk again to stand a chance,' he stated.

'A Drunk mind speaks a sober hearts,' you whispered to your self unaware of just how good Marcos hearing was. Seven little words had you heart in your throat and Marco's beating rapidly.