What More Could You Want, ❤️‍🔥x❤️‍🔥🤝💗u💗

💕Touching my heart💕

Just come up with some thought, brothers Kinai&Sitka&Denahi give me the same kind of vibe as ASL brothers.

But what if…

Sitka as Ace, Kinai as Luffy and Sabo as Denahi

I really will keep that in mind

Remind!! The art is not mine!! I searching author, but can’t find them, if you know please send in reply or any other way, after what I add the link and mentioned them!! (The first art) /the art was uploaded to my phone, but… that’s was really some time ago so…/

The second and third art come from official Disney and the last one from official One piece manga (as I know)

!! Though idea of au is come from my mind

captive🪽

Probably would've loved this s-, like I had one too growing up 🥲

Mihawk's secret...

They'd probably -

🌩slap u pretty

and

dress u cool🌩

it's not fair that everyone in Gokurakugai is so hot

WeIrD & ShInY, so cool ✌️

it was always the plan to put the world in your hand

When you are all that and a bag of chips 😌 👌

One Piece novel HEROINES illustrations by Sayaka Suwa

How delightful reading this was🧊🧡🍧🧡🍨🧡🍦🧡❄️🧡⚽️🧡

jealous ~ portgas d. ace x reader

2,000 words | she/her reader

summary: ace was not jealous of luffy's new sitter

masterlist

“She sounds like a witch.”

“Well that makes her cooler than you! Blah!” Luffy sticks his tongue out with a face.

“Ace.” Sabo calls sternly, “Don’t say those things about (Y/N).”

“I didn’t know that witches had names.” Ace mutters and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re the witch!” Luffy slaps Ace on the head before leaping from his chair.

Ace quickly turns in his seat, “You little brat!” He yells, trying to swat at the eight year old.

“You did insult his new sitter.” Sabo comments, setting the plate of cooked meat on the table, “Luffy! Come eat!”

“Meeeaaatt!” The small voice screeches, followed by the pitter patter of feet.

Ace scoffs, grabbing a piece before Luffy can get his grubby little hands over all of it, “Don’t see why we need her.” He takes an aggressive bite, “Poisoning his mind.”

“You’ve never even met her.” Sabo exasperates, “Besides, we need the help.”

Luffy inhales his plate, “And she’s the best!”

“See!” Ace points wildly, “Poison!”

Sabo rolls his eyes, “Just eat your food.”

Ace grumbles, doing as he’s told but not without some irritation.

It had been several weeks since Sabo had hired you to watch Luffy in the afternoons. Ever since Sabo had been assigned more responsibilities at work, he wasn’t able to pick Luffy up from school like he used to. Being that Ace takes Luffy to school in the mornings, he already compensates to stay later at his job.

So the only solution was to have Luffy spend a couple hours with someone during the in between.

Which was easier said than done.

They first tried Garp, but after Sabo had come home to Luffy unattended and trying to cook over an open fire in the trash can (more than once mind you), they realized they might need someone new.

Then there was Dadan, but after one little shaved eyebrow incident it was clear it wasn’t going to work out.

There were even more who lasted less, so when you showed up it was like a god send.

Ace had laughed his ass off after Luffy excitedly, and Sabo dejectedly, recounted the story of how Luffy managed to hide from you the entire afternoon. Only visible by the dozens of spitballs he landed on your face.

Sabo figured that was the end of it and was already writing up a new ad when you texted asking about dietary restrictions. He cautiously texted you that he’d be surprised if Luffy had any. He wasn’t trying to get his hopes up but when he came home the next day to find Luffy intently watching you frost cupcakes, he had a good feeling about this.

Luffy took to you almost as fast as he took to Ace and Sabo. Every day you had something new for him. Building blanket forts, playing pirates with foam swords, having him help prep tasty snacks, it was endless fun and Luffy never wanted it to stop.

Ace on the other hand wasn’t as pleased. While he never had the displeasure to meet you, he was getting a little tired of listening about the wonderful and amazing and super cool (Y/N).

How great could you really be?

“Besides,” Sabo continues, “You’ll finally get to meet her at Luffy’s soccer game this weekend.”

“What!” Ace shouts, slamming his hands on the table, “Why!”

Sabo ignores his brother’s overdramatics, “Luffy asked her too.”

“Yeah!” Luffy adds happily, “She’s gonna make me a sign!”

“I can make you a sign!” Ace pleads, “I can make you twosigns!’

“Ace. Get a hold of yourself.” Sabo snaps while rolling his eyes, “This is just pathetic.”

Sabo had assumed Ace had gotten over when he didn’t mention it in the days leading up to the match.

How wrong he was.

.

“Why’s that crap all over your face?”

“Language, Luffy.” Sabo calls over his shoulder.

“It’s for you.” Ace says, checking his spirit face paint in the mirror, “Because I’m your biggest fan.”

“You look like a clown.”

“A clown that’s gonna buy you ice cream if you win.”

“Really?” Luffy asks excitedly, “A double scoop too?”

Ace smiles to himself looking back at Luffy buckled in his seat, “If you score a point you can have a triple scoop.”

“Triple?!” Luffy screams followed by his muttering about which flavors he’s going to get.

“Bribery?” Sabo deadpans, “Really?”

“What? Needs a little motivation if he wants to win.” Ace defends himself.

“Right.” Sabo says sarcastically, “That’s what this is about.”

Ace ignores his brother, instead continuing to hype Luffy up with thoughts of ice cream and extra sprinkles after the match until they pull into the parking lot.

As soon as the car is parked, Luffy is a shot out of the car like a canon, sprinting to the field to see his friends.

“I think your pom poms are in the trunk if you want to grab them.” Sabo teases.

“Shut up.” Ace growls, “Sorry I’m just a bigger fan than you are.”

Sabo scoffs, choosing to ignore Ace’s comment in favor of heading to the bleachers.

Ace follows and from a distance can see Luffy sprinting off the field and to someone in the crowd.

They open their arms wide and catches Luffy as he collides against their chest. Even from so far away he can see Luffy talking a mile a minute and waving his hands all over the place. The person throws their head back with a laugh before pulling out a giant sign that Luffy accepts with stars in his eyes.

Wait a minute.

Ace roughly pulls Sabo back by the shoulder, “Who the fuck is that?” He whispers urgently.

“Who?” Sabo asks confused, eyes following to where you and Luffy are, “You mean (Y/N)?”

“That’s (Y/N)?” Ace hisses.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she looked like that?”

“What do you mean?” Sabo shoots back, annoyed with Ace’s integration.

“What do you mean what do I mean?” He nearly shouts, “Look at her! She’s gorgeous!”

Sabo chokes on a surprised laugh, “You cannot be serious right now.”

“And you let me paint my face like an idiot!” Ace continues, starting to panic.

“I told you, you looked like an idiot.”

“Yeah, but…” Ace trails off, “Whatever! I don’t know how you could do this to me!”

“Get over yourself.” Sabo shrugs off Ace hand, “Now you like her because you think she’s hot?”

“She’s not hot.” Ace shoots back, disgusted Sabo would resort your appearance to such a trivial word, “She’s beautiful. She looks like she was crafted by Aphrodite herself!”

Sabo cocks his head, “When were you reading mythology?”

“That’s not important!” Ace stomps his foot, “I have to go, I can’t let her see me like this! I need to get-”

“Saboooo! Aceee!” A voice screams from across the field.

Ace feels like he’s in a horror film as he slowly turns to see his monster of a little brother waving them over.

Sabo gives him a shit eating grin, “Looks like you’re out of luck.” And then walks off to the two of you.

Ace follows, a little thankful for the face paint since it hides the deep blush on his face. Not that it would be as bad if he wasn’t wearing it in the first place.

“Look! Look!” Luffy is jumping up and down with the sign in his hands.

The words ‘Pirate King Luffy!’ are drawn in big block letters, along with the team’s strawhat insignia. Wow, Ace thinks to himself, beautiful and talented.

“That’s cool Luffy!” Sabo smiles, “Did you thank (Y/N)?”

Luffy whips his head in your direction, “Thank you (Y/N).”

“Of course, my little pirate king.” You smile while ruffling his hair. Ace swears your voice is like tinkling bell, “Although I’m sorry I didn’t go all out like some of your fans.”

And then your eyes cut to Ace and he partly wishes he had painted his whole body because there’s no way his flush hasn’t spread down his neck.

“Uhm, hi!” Ace blurts out before bowing, “I’m Ace.”

He watches as you lean into the palm of your hand with your elbow on your knee, “I’ve heard a lot about you. Glad to finally put a face to the name.” You say with a smile.

“Aha.” Ace laughs awkwardly, internally freaking out about whatever Sabo or Luffy might have said about him.

“What face?” Sabo cuts in with a smirk, “Can’t even see it.”

Ace tries to elbow Sabo in the gut while you giggle behind your hand.

“This is boring.” Luffy complains, “I’m leaving!” And then hands you the poster before sprinting back to the field.

“Good luck!” You call after him with a wave, “So?” You look at the brothers, “You two want to sit?”

And Ace is lightening quick to take the spot beside you while Sabo scoffs to himself.

There isn’t much time for talking when the game starts, because you are a surprisingly loud fan.

Cheering for Luffy and each of his teammates, waving the sign back and forth, laughing when Luffy tries to kick the ball at the wrong goal.

It’s surprising the Strawhats even win, had it not been for the goalie with the green hair that stopped every ball like he had a third hand or the boy with the swirly eyebrow who’s kicks sent the ball from one end of the field to the other, there was no way the other team members could have pulled it together.

But Luffy had fun, and that’s what mattered.

“Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream!” He screamed, running back to the three of you sitting in the stands, “Are we getting ice cream now?”

“Well the team did win” Ace nods, “I suppose you deserve it.”

“Yeah!” Luffy spins in a circle, before turning to you and tugging on your hand, “Did you see me out there! I kicked the ball just like we practiced!”

“You did!” You agree with a proud grin, and Ace and Sabo note you choose not to mention it was into the wrong goal, “I’m so proud of you!”

“You should come with!” Ace awkwardly shouts, drawing the attention of the group, “Uhm, for ice cream, if you’d like to join us, that is?”

“Oh.” You say, a little taken back by the offer. You had assumed Ace might have not liked you too much after the first quarter when he barely said a word. Each time you tried to engage him he’d rush out an answer before starring at the ground while Sabo shook his head beside him.

You had decided to instead spend your time cheering on Luffy, ignoring the small dejection in your stomach at his apparent dismissal.

“I’d love to join, if that’s okay?” Your eyes shift to Sabo who’s looking at Ace with a bit of surprise in his expression.

“But I thought you didn’t like (Y/N).” Luffy says from below, “Because she’s a witch!”

Anger and embarrassment flush through Ace’s body as he grabs Luffy by the back of the collar and drags him closer, slapping a hand over his mouth, “I never said that! Why would I say that?”

“Mhm!” Luffy shouts into Ace’s hand.

Ace laughs awkwardly, “That’s not nice Luffy, (Y/N) is much too pretty to be a witch.”

Sabo scoffs for the hundredth time that day, so over watching Ace’s pathetic attempts at flirting. “C’mon Luffy.” He grabs the boy from Ace, “Let’s go get you stuff.” Taking him to the field to pick up his bag, “We’ll be waiting in the car!”

“Luffy doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Ace says quickly.

“It’s okay.” You hold up a hand with a smile, “I know a jealous big brother when I see one.”

Ace doesn’t respond, a little ashamed to think about how he’s behaved the last few weeks.

“But I suppose the only way to overcome that is to share my time with Luffy.” You hesitantly meet his eyes, “If you’d like that is.”

“I’d like.” Ace nods his head up and down, “Very much. And maybe without Luffy?”

You laugh at his forwardness, “How about we start with the ice cream?”

next chapter

That's the stuff right there 😏 😏

Firework show. (NSFW!) Ace x Oc/Y/n

I made this semi my oc bc my oc has like fire and firework powers but I wanted this to be enjoyable for others that wanna roleplay as my oc.

Ace's breath hitched, a phantom sting lingering where the vibrant, almost playful, flames had kissed his skin. He flexed his singed fingers, the faint scent of burnt sugar and sulfur a stark contrast to the usual salty tang of the sea air. The memory of your heat, the way it bloomed and pulsed, replaced the phantom pain with a different, more potent kind of warmth.

The remnants of your power, a swirling, vibrant echo of fireworks and wildfire, still danced on his tongue, a taste he couldn't quite place. It was a delicious, dangerous burn, a reminder of the raw, untamed energy that pulsed within you. He remembered the way your body had arched, the soft gasps that turned into sharp, almost feral cries as his touch ignited your own internal inferno.

Now, standing on the deck of the Moby Dick, the curious gazes of his crewmates bore into him. "Ace, what happened to your fingers?" Thatch asked, his voice laced with concern. Marco chimed in, having seen the burns closer. "Yeah… You look like you burned them."

He froze, the question echoing the raw intensity of the previous night. The image of you, a swirling vortex of fire and light, overwhelmed his senses. His mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation, but all he could conjure were vivid flashes of your skin flushed with heat, the way your flames had danced around his touch, the way his tongue had traced the delicate lines of your form as you erupted in a blaze of your own making.

He swallowed, the phantom sting of your fire now a burning blush creeping up his neck. The words caught in his throat, a mix of desire and the sheer absurdity of trying to explain the consequences of your shared inferno. How could he possibly articulate the way your power, untamed and wild, had turned his own touch into a brand, a mark of your shared, fiery passion? Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse… You walked onto the deck, your gaze falling on the three of them.

Ace cleared his throat nervously, his eyes darting towards the floor as he fiddled with his now burnt but healing fingers. It wasn't his fault you were so easy to… flare up. You had similar powers to Ace, but without a Devil Fruit, your abilities manifesting as fire or fireworks. Usually, when intense emotions like pleasure, sadness, anger, or envy took hold, you became… fiery. So, during their intimate moment, you unintentionally burnt his three fingers and tongue. Thankfully, neither of you were harmed by the fire itself, but physical damage was still a possibility. If they could see his tongue, they would surely notice its abnormally vibrant red hue.

"Ah…uh…" he stuttered, scratching the back of his head, the blush on his face deepening. He glanced at Thatch and Marco, who were still eyeing his burnt fingers with concern. The corner of his mouth twitched into a sheepish, forced smile. "Well…you know how it is, right? I'm always clumsy..." he said, hoping his nonchalance would diffuse the situation.

But your presence only heightened his embarrassment. He could still vividly recall the taste of you, the sound of your moans against his lips. It was impossible to ignore the pull towards you, the way his heart raced whenever you were near.

"Just…got careless with some fireworks last night," he lied smoothly, averting his gaze from your knowing expression. The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly, years of pirate life honing the skill. "Nothing to worry about," he assured, holding up his hand with a casual wave.

Inside, though, he felt anything but casual. He craved another taste of your fire, the rush of adrenaline as your flames danced around him. And there you were, a living embodiment of everything he desired and feared. The urge to reach out, to pull you close, to apologize for the burns was strong, but he held back. For now, he'd let the secret simmer between them.

Marco and Thatch looked confused. They weren't aware Ace had fireworks, but… Ace was always reckless. And they had indeed heard some sort of fireworks last night. However, Thatch wasn't buying Ace's story easily, his eyes finding yours and giving you a skeptical look. Marco was thinking the same thing but didn't want to jump to any conclusions, knowing it would fluster you both and probably make both of you go on fire. Again. Marco raised a doubtful eyebrow. "With three fingers and your tongue? Sounds a bit… specific."

A shiver went down Ace's spine as he remembered the way his tongue had swirled and dipped, the way your moans had grown louder, more desperate. Your fingers had gripped his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as the intensity built. Then, a sudden, sharp burst of heat, and a searing pain had shot through his fingers and across his tongue, the taste of you replaced by the acrid tang of burnt flesh. He'd pulled back, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and concern, but you'd only gasped, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release. He began to think about the way your breath had hitched, soft whimpers escaping your lips as his fingers slipped inside you, the friction building the heat within you. Your flames, usually contained, began to flicker and dance along your skin, a visual representation of the rising pleasure. He'd dipped his head, his tongue tracing the delicate folds of your core, and your fire had erupted, a wave of heat washing over him. The taste of you, a blend of sweetness and sulfur, had filled his senses as your body convulsed around him, your internal fire igniting his own... Oh and when you came? When you came... It felt like fireworks popping and sizzling on his tongue your sweet juices flowing onto his tongue like fire... He knows it's bad for him. But you know Ace loved it as much as you did in the heat of the moment.

"I swear it's nothing, Marco... I'm fine. I just... Got a little carried away with something-"

"Something or someone?" you replied, finally breaking your silence. Ace's eyes widened in shock… He knew how bold you were, but fuckkk—you were driving him insane. That playful look in your eyes and that teasing little smirk on your face… Thatch and Marco's eyes darted between you and Ace. It didn't take long to put the pieces together. Oh but when you put two and two together what do you get? A very hot mess.

Looks like Ace was playing with fire. Literally.

♀️🧨That frickin' beat💥♂️

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LAW

absolute mushiest of the mushies🤜💗

Louder than Words - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

This is like the mushiest piece I have written. I was kinda embarrassed...but here it is. Let's give him the hugs and space he needed huh? This could also be a message to you lovelies out there too. MasterList linked at the bottom too!

Ace didn’t know what came over you, but whatever it was, he wasn’t complaining. Per se. 

You’d cupped his face gently, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks tenderly, while he just looked back at you, curious. He smiled, in hopes of easing or appeasing whatever drudge was swirling in his chest and tainting this moment, “everything alright?”

You hummed and nodded at him, not a line on your expression but the bliss that pulled at your lips, revealing your peaceful serenity to him. His breath hitched slightly as you pressed your lips to his forehead, lingering for a moment. Then a shorter peck to his nose, before nuddling it back and forth with your own. He reopened his eyes when you tilted his head, still cradled in your palms, and pressed kisses to either of his cheeks.

You pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, and he felt his heart chase after you, beating with a tenacity meant to jump ship from his chest to yours. Your eyes dropped to the last target on his face, and he felt his entire physiology twist in anticipation.

You guided his face to yours gently, holding him as though he was the most prized treasure of all the seas. If he ever said that aloud, you would agree. 

Your own personal One Piece. 

You guided him, and he followed eagerly, gravitating towards you naturally, and you met him somewhere in the middle, colliding in an explosion of euphoria, igniting the wiring of his entire being.

His every sense sharpened, yet by attuning himself to your every move he melded into you. He-his edges-seemed to all but disappear as he chased after you unwilling to disconnect for a moment longer than necessary. Your pull, irresistible-inevitable as he continued to dive deeper into it.

Deeper and deeper. 

Closer and closer. 

Chest to chest. 

Heart to heart.

Until you gently guided him away, again cradling his face and rubbing sweet, sweet, tender circles into his skin, massaging your warmth into him. Your eyes again held his, and gosh you’re just so beautiful. He’s pulled out of his daze when he felt your chest struggling under his. You’re panting slightly, your breathing a little strained, and he realized that his weight on you definitely isn’t helping. 

He lifted himself up just slightly-unwilling to completely part but-no longer crushing you. He couldn’t help but wonder: when had he ended up on top of you like this?

You’re gently moving his head about in your palms again, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Then another to the crown of his head and for a moment he’s so glad he showered and washed his hair yesterday.

“I’m so thankful to have you in my life,” you breathed into his skin, lips inscribing the words into his forehead, and tugging on his heart strings.

Again his head is guided by your hands and again his eyes are treated to the sight of yours. Like a rope with a knot catching onto a splinter of wood, the air caught inside his chest. Your own eyes trailed over his features, slowly, carefully, as though committing every part of him, every detail, to memory. You studied him with a sort of reverence, your awe manifesting in a choked gasp and subtle widening of the eyes.

Your hands slowly slipped from his face, and he found himself missing your touch immediately. Thankfully, he didn’t have to part with it for long. 

“I am so grateful,” your fingers ghosted along his cheek moving to his lips, “that you exist,” your words tugged at that stuck knot.

“That you were born,” a warmth spread through his chest - yet he couldn’t breathe. 

“That you exist in this world - and that I,” your expression became impossibly soft, “that I get to know you.” 

He opened his mouth desperate to return the sentiment, but you continued gently tracing his lips as you did, “that you’re allowing me to love you like this.”

He couldn’t-

You let out a little squeak at the speed and force with which he sat the two of you up and held you. His fingers interwoven with your hair, his nose buried in your neck, his other hand pressing you into him, melding you into his body. Soon enough, even his legs came to wrap around your own, completely preventing any chance of escape.

Though to be honest, you escape to him, not from him. 

Oh the things you did to him. 

He might be made of fire, but his devil fruit couldn’t protect him from the way your affections effectively set fire to his very brain-his heart. His chest heaved, pressing against yours, his eyes water and his grip tightened. Tremors overtook him as he fought the urge to crush you completely into his body. 

How could joy resemble a knife tearing through his chest? How could the tearing pain feel so delightful? The contradictions were enough to make his head spin and his thoughts knot up.

A gentle hand - your gentle hand slowly worked its way through his hair, patiently undoing any tangles your fingers came about, consequently undoing the intricate knotting of the net entangling his mind. The delicate trails your fingertips drew along his scalp soothed his thoughts such that each raging beastly emotion was conquered in turn. It wasn’t too long before he’d vanquished the confusion, your tender care steering him to clarity.

You were steering him towards dreamland too if he’s honest, as his consciousness began to ebb under the rhythmic flow of your fingers through the waves of his hair. It wasn’t long before it plunged completely into the ocean of unconsciousness. 

// ——

When he regained consciousness you were seated beside him, reading something or another. You were really engrossed in whatever it was you were reading, so much so that you startled a little when his hand lethargically claimed your own, pulling it closer to him.

He brushed his lips on the back of it, grinning up at you with eyes that drooped with the sleep still in them. He delighted in the flustered expression you wore in response to his own affections, blinking at you slowly. You marked your page with your free hand, before closing the book to give him your undivided attention.

“How was your nap, love?” Love you called him. Love.

His eyelids closed, succumbing to the weight they seemed to carry, basking in the bliss washing over him like a gentle summer shower. 

Love. 

He could hear you moving about, his hold on your hand tightening as you shifted. A little groan left him as he struggled to open his eyes and mouth to speak to you. You were not helping with how your other hand came to comb his hair again, but he managed, “mmm you’re…gon’ make me fall ‘sleep ‘gain.”

“Then that means you need more sleep m’love,” m’love, not just any love, your love. Yours. 

He was your love. 

Yours.

He was yours. Happily so. Forever would be too. If you’d have him. 

He hummed, lips weakly pushing through sleep to show you his satisfaction. 

Your voice was much closer to him now, speaking from right above his head, and he fought an uphill battle trying to open his eyes to look at you. His whole body felt heavy, completely sapped of strength. Heck even his grip on your hand was as limp as ever. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was in contact with sea stone or something. 

He felt you press your lips to his forehead again, gently fueling him enough to pull his lips into a drowsy, wobbly, smile. 

“Get some rest love,” you spoke softly, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Stay wit mmmmm,” talking was proving to be a challenge, “c’mere.”

He threw a heavy arm over what he hoped was your waist. It probably was? Gosh he couldn’t care with the way you were giggling next to him. 

“Sure thing love,” you had to be doing some kind of magic with how he felt like he was levitating despite the weight that seeped into his bones, “just let me brush my teeth first.”

He couldn’t hold you down if he wanted to with how tired he was, “mmm back soo,” he mumbled.

“Sure thing,” his lips wobbled themselves into a smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead again. 

He was out instantaneously. You kept your promise though; through his daze he felt you slip in and embrace him. Seems like his body knew what to do too, despite its earlier lack of cooperation, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you in return before he was out again.

He woke up in your arms. 

His head rested against your chest, with your arm languidly around his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath filled him with the nostalgia of the scent of home. A home that did not exist in his memories. Which meant it probably existed in his imagination then. A home that could be. A home with you.

It was the scent of home nonetheless. 

He tightened his hold on your waist nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

I’m so grateful you exist.

His arms instinctively tightened.

That you were born. 

His inhale was a stuttery one, his own lips and vision stuttering as well. He buried his face further into your neck, taking in your scent again. Yet all that did was push the tears out faster. 

That was the opposite of what he’d expected! 

Urgh. One of those hot, salty blobs ended up on your skin.

To his relief, and dismay - oddly enough - you remained unconscious. Your eyes closed and breathing consistent. Though that didn’t last long, as you shifted slightly, the arm around his shoulder worked to pull him into you, as your other one came up to play with his hair-you really liked doing that huh?

“Get it aaall,” your voice was thick with sleep, “get it all…out,” you hummed a bit, “let all that poison out.”

“Darlin’, did I wake you?” It was pathetic how his voice cracked - he hated this weakness that was welling up...again.

Just like that, your hold on him tightened, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. 

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” you sounded much more awake now, “you’re one of the people I want to be there for the most.”

Unfortunately, a choked sob left him. Gosh he was so pathetic. He was a full grown man! He wasn’t supposed to be some weak crybaby! To think he used to get mad at Luffy for crying too!

Yet…

He. couldn’t. stop.

His shoulders shook, the tremors traveled his body, and a violent shiver wracked it. Yet you laid and held him and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing your favorite spot on his forehead consistently. Every kiss, every gentle brush of your loving fingers tenderly working through his hair, every tender trace of your fingertips on his scalp, brought a fresh wave of tears to follow the next. At some point he’d started clutching on to you, like you were the life-ring preventing him from drowning.

He wasn’t sure how long you two stayed like that. All he knew that in between his sniffles and his sobbing there was your voice. 

“Get it all out love,” you lightly encouraged - as though he wasn’t lesser for crying like a baby. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you said a few times too - as though this pathetic display wasn’t shameful.

“I love you so much,” you reaffirmed time and time again stroking his hair - as though his weakness didn’t make him less desirable.

For whatever reason he didn’t doubt a word. Despite the mental cesspool working overtime to drown him in darkness, the light of your honesty shone through. No matter how far he fell, it followed.

He wasn’t sure how long you two lay there, holding each other, and he wasn’t sure when he’d lost consciousness again. His eyes were so incredibly heavy when he woke up again though. They must be swollen from all his crying. You weren’t next to him this time, however as his senses came back to him, he could hear the sounds of a pen scratching and paper flipping.

When he sat up, he noticed a pitcher of water and a tall glass with an opaque yellow-tinted liquid and some mint leaves in it-lemonade probably-on the bedside table. He had a moment to locate you at his desk before you turned to face him, “hey there.”

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still thick from lack of use.

You put the pen down, got up, and walked towards him with a kind smile, “I made you some lemonade, and got some water,” you sat down near his legs, “gotta replace all those fluids you lost.”

That got a chuckle out of him, “your lessons with Marco are going well, huh?”

“I also have a lot of personal experience with these things,” you grinned at him.

“With crying like a baby?” 

You just hummed and nodded.

“This might sound bad,” you weren’t looking at him as you confessed, “but I’m kind of…” you trailed off, shooting him a quick glance, “happy,” you shrunk, your shoulders reaching your ears, “you felt safe enough to be that vulnerable with me.”

“So, you liked seeing me cry?” He poked at you. “Should I cry more for you, doll?”

“Ace,” you groaned, your smile only growing fonder as you looked at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a sadist,” he kept teasing, “I’m not sure how I feel about this kink of yours.”

He loved the way you rolled your eyes, but revealed your teeth with how big your smile was getting. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” you corrected, “I like that you feel safe with me.”

You paused, then appended, “well safe enough to not hide your pain.”

“Hide my pain?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Crying is one way to get pain out of your body,” you twisted your body to face him more fully, voice soft as you shared your opinion, “emotional pain especially.”

“Isn’t crying just weakness?” He frowned at you. 

“No?”

“It’s not?” 

“Do you think I’m weak when I cry?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“But you’re a woman.”

A tired look flashed over your features momentarily, “so men aren’t allowed to cry?” You challenged, tone still as patient as ever.

“Only weak men cry,” for some reason the words sounded less convincing in your presence.

“Who says?” His gaze snapped up to meet yours and you repeated yourself, “who said?”

“Isn’t it just something that everyone knows?” His brow furrowed, scowl taking his features. 

“No,” you paused as you said that, “well I guess in a sense,” you squinted at nothing, “yes… it is something that many people assume.”

“You just saw me cry like a baby,” he countered, “you don’t think I’m weak?”

“On the contrary,” he felt his eyes widen despite the weight embedded into them, “you’ve been carrying all that pain.” 

An ache tormented your gentle expression, “and you choose kindness and warmth and bring joy to those you care about despite it,” you looked him in the eye again, “that isn’t something a weak person could do.”

A shiver traveled down his spine at the way your eyes studied him, softening as you opened your mouth to speak again, “kindness is the mark of the strong, Ace,” you placed your hand on top of his notably larger one, pride dripping from your voice, “and you’re so incredibly kind.”

What was with you and stealing the air from his lungs? He felt his chest constrict like he’d been punched too.

“We’re so lucky to have you in our lives,” your thumb traced circles onto the back of his hand, “we’re even luckier to be loved by you.”

He could feel that prickling in the back of his eyes he was becoming way too familiar with for his liking. “We really have to do something about that crying kink of yours,” he joked.

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you weren’t mad. “I think I’m just going to have to tell you more often how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

His heart lurched in his chest, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

“We can both be lucky.”

“Then I’m luckier.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yea huh.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“No,” he has a huge grin on his face at your scowl. 

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, rising from the bed with a dramatic sigh, “I’ll let you believe whatever you want to believe.”

“Oi!” He couldn’t help the chuckle that left him.

“Drink some water and your lemonade, love,” you gave him a little peck on his forehead again, “then let’s get you showered and fed.”

He caught your wrist as you moved away, “where are you going?”

“To the desk,” you blinked at him.

“What’re you up to there?”

“I’m just going through some paperwork,” he really was the luckier one of the two of you.

“Marry me,” the words flew out of his mouth before his mind could even register them in his thoughts.

You laughed, raising your left hand for him to view, “already did.”

Shoot.

“Now,” mirth still colored your expression, “you drink your lemonade while I get these papers done.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted you and allowed you to slip out of his grasp.

It was when he’d finally moved to lean back against the wall and grabbed the drink you’d prepared that he heard you giggle a little. Strange, given what you were working on, “see something funny?”

“No,” you singsonged, cheerfully wiggling in your seat, “it’s just my husband asked me to marry him, again, and I’m feeling very happy.”

His head clunked against the wall he rested against, heat rushing to his cheeks as a disgruntled groan left him, despite the way he was grinning, “I swear I didn’t forget.”

“I didn’t think you did, love,” you giggle some more, turning slightly to look at him, “I’m just so happy you would want to marry me, again.”

“I’d marry you again every day if I could,” he took a swig of his lemonade enjoying the way you fought and failed to keep your smile contained as it threatened to split what he could see of your face.

You turned back around and he could see that you were fighting to focus on the papers in front of you. 

“How about we have another wedding on the Moby Dick?” He found himself scooching his way down the bed, his excitement uncontained. “We can get you a proper dress this time! Your own!”

He looked up thinking some more, “and I’ll wear a proper suit with a vest and a tie and everything!”

“I’m surprised you know about vests and ties,” you shot him a teasing grin.

“Hey! I took some etiquette classes as a kid!” 

“You did?”

“I didn’t tell you?” He’d have to tell you more about his life before he set sail then. “Yeah back when I was in the East Blue,” it’s been a while since he left huh? “Makino-a barmaid from the village nearby-taught me manners.”

“So she’s the one that taught you about vests and ties?”

“Yeah,” oh wait a second, “we can have Thatch make us a huge cake and a feast!” Now that he was back on the original topic he had so many ideas! “Pops can officiate! Marco can be the one to bring you down the aisle! And-and-”

“You really want to have another wedding then?” You were now turned to face him completely.

“Yeah! How about it?” He scooched even closer to you. “Our first one was nice too, but we were in a hurry and I remember we had to go with whatever we had.”

“Is it bad that I liked our small, humble wedding?”

“Huh? No of course not! It was great!” Where did that come from? “I’m just saying we can have another so I can ‘marry you again.’”

“Hmm the idea of seeing you all dressed up in a three piece suit is tempting,” you hummed.

He guffawed a bit at that. “I’d probably mistake you for an angel if I saw you in a white dress.”

“Aww you wouldn’t recognize me?”

“Nah because,” he smirked, “I’d be blinded by how beautiful you’d look.”

When you hunched your shoulders to your ears and looked away a bit, his chest swirled with pride. He was getting better at this flirting with you thing!

“Maybe we shouldn’t then,” sounds of protest were leaving him before he knew it, “I don’t want to blind you.”

That had the two of you laughing.

When you calmed down, you turned back towards the work waiting for you, “there isn’t much left to do commander, so stop distracting me.”

Your distraction quickly chugged the rest of that refreshing glass of juice, and moved back to pour himself a glass of water. Something seemed to click within his head as he pondered your order: “I’m distracting now, am I?”

“Very.”

He burst out laughing. “Well we’re even then,” he proceeded to take a loud slurp of water.

He almost choked on it laughing when he saw you startle a bit, his flirt landing well with you again. 

Cradling his glass, he opted to just watch you work. He’d make your second wedding happen. You deserved to be celebrated again and again. Besides, it’s not like pirates didn’t party regularly. So it’s not like they’d be going out of their way really-if that’s what you were worried about. Well, knowing you, that was something you were worried about. He found an amused little huff leaving him at that thought. 

“See something funny, love?” Seems you’d heard him.

“Nope,” he grinned your way, “just thinking.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Hey!”

“You come up with some pretty crazy schemes,” he noticed the little smirk on your lips - oh you cheeky - “they’re usually fun, even if they’re dangerous.”

“Like you’re one to talk!” He grinned. “You always add on more crazy things!”

“My crazy things are to make your crazy things less dangerous,” you hummed, “I very much prefer you alive, well, and healthy you see.”

“You just like me,” he beamed at you with a laugh.

“I love you, actually,” you responded without missing a beat nor looking up from your paperwork.

Yeah.

He was definitely giving you that second wedding here on the Moby Dick. Maybe even at one of the prettier spring or autumn islands on Pops’ turf. Whatever you’d like the most! Heck he’ll give you two second weddings - er - a second and a third. Wedding. Yeah.

Oh!

Maybe he could even surprise you with it! 

He ought to get started on it - today! Right now!

He threw back the rest of his glass of water and rushed to the door.

“Ah! Ace! Wait a second!” He paused right before opening it up. “I’m just about done with this! Let me finish and I can help you with your hair and back!”

“Huh?” He raised a brow at you.

“Huh?” You returned equally confused. “Weren’t you going to shower to feel better?”

“No?” He tilted his head.

“Then you’re going straight for the kitchen?” You continued, still confused. “Didn’t you want to eat together?”

Oh that was tempting. He couldn’t say no to that. Wait, even the shower help was tempting. You’d been the one to teach him how to properly scrub his scalp after all. But he didn’t want to delay his surprise a second longer!

“Then, I’m gonna get some fresh air,” not really a lie, he’d get fresh air on his way to see Marco, “then we can eat together.”

“So no shower?”

“Wouldn’t we get caught?”

“What do you mean? I’m just washi-Ace!” You let out a garbled sound making him laugh.

“Alright, alright darlin’,” he gave you a lopsided grin, “I’m just teasing. Yeah we’ll do both.”

“Okay,” you seemed pleased with that outcome, despite it being more work for you.

He let go of the door handle to come press a kiss to your forehead, “love you.”

“Love you too,” you returned immediately.

He walked out the door feeling lighter than he had in a while.

Yeah he was definitely giving you the grandest wedding he could, and he was a Whitebeard pirate, and they really knew how to party.

Extra:

Later during an “Official Division Commander Meeting”:

Izou: she must be the one to pick out her dress

Ace: then I’ll take her out to get one picked

Izou: absolutely not! I will

Ace: hey she’s my wife

Izou: exactly! You’re not allowed to see her in the dress until the ceremony you fool!

Marco: (placing a comforting hand on Ace’s shoulder) well, there’s no one better for this task than Izou yoi

Izou: hmph! but of course

Thatch: you all have the easy part, I have to make all the food, and the cake

Ace: it’ll be worth it!

Thatch: for you maybe, you’re not the one cooking to feed a fleet. I swear I have the most difficult job

Marco: we have feasts all the time, no need to do anything extra yoi. 

Ace: except the cake! The cake is really important!

Thatch: yeah yeah I heard you. groans

Marco: Besides your division has a bunch of cooks to help you out doesn’t it?

//------------------------

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